The reserved chamber of the Jedi Temple buzzed with the gentle murmur of energy and anticipation. Heat radiated softly from the heart of the room, casting faint ripples in the air as rows of workstations glinted with neatly arranged tools. Kyber crystals hovered within containment fields, each one pulsing faintly in its own rhythm, like they were breathing.
Jackson Lesan stood just inside the threshold, a quiet weight in his chest that refused to lift.
This was supposed to be one of those moments for a padawan that was symbolic and a step forward. For most of the Padawans, it clearly was. He could feel their excitement as they spread out toward the stations, whispering to one another, eyes wide at the materials laid out. Some had Masters standing close beside them, offering nods, or a reassuring hand on the shoulder.
Jackson had no such figure in his orbit.
Not anymore. Not since Romi Jade was killed
His gaze drifted across the room until it landed on two familiar faces. Vera and Aris, the Noble twins. He didn’t know many others in the Temple yet, having only recently transferred from the Jakku Enclave, but them? They were a constant. Vera caught his eye first.
Jackson walked slowly towards the closest open bench, keeping one eye on the center of the room where Aris stood.
The younger Noble was clearly in his element, poised and composed as he oversaw the session. This was no sparring match today, this was something quieter. Aris didn’t need to raise his voice. There was a calm gravity to him, and the students responded to it.
Jackson slid onto the bench just as the lesson began.
The tools had already been laid out: welders, wood carving knives, miniature hammers, etching pens. Materials of all kinds were there as well: leathers, woods, even ornamental alloys and crystals, all organized by type and tradition. Some were exotic, others simple. All were waiting for purpose.
Aris moved methodically through the room, giving the class their framework. They weren’t here to complete their lightsabers in one day. This wasn’t a race. Each component, cut, shape, and etching, was meant to be deliberate. The lightsaber wasn’t just a weapon. It was a mirror. A reflection of its maker, how it felt to hold it, what it expressed to others, and what part of the Jedi’s soul it carried.
Even the choice of tools said something.
He explained how in the Clone Wars, Jedi assembled their sabers from prefabricated parts, chosen by intuition. It was fast. Efficient. Practical.
But before that? It had been art.
Each saber was handcrafted down to the housings, shells, and emitters, all built from scratch. It wasn’t just function. It held meaning.
Jackson listened in silence, his eyes roaming over the pieces in front of him. He reached for a block of sappierwood. It was dark and dense, and it felt cool beneath his fingers. The grain ran tight and fine, strong enough to handle pressure without splintering. He looked at the leathers, the metals, and the other wood blocks. It was too much for someone who did not even know his place yet. Maybe he just needed to start with the housing chamber. He didn’t know.
Next to him, another padawan was already sketching a rough shape into a piece of durasteel plating. His face was lit with focus, her brow furrowed, but when he looked over and saw Jax holding the wood, he nodded slightly.
Good choice.
Across the chamber, Valery Noble stood with her arms folded. A quiet sentinel. Not instructing. Just watching. Supporting.
Jackson glanced back down at the parts before him. He didn’t know what his saber would look like yet. He didn’t know if it would feel right in his hand, or if he even deserved to finish it without Romi Jade beside him.
But the materials were here. The path was laid.
And he wasn’t walking it alone.
Not entirely.
He picked up a datapad and started to sketch something. Jackson was a Lesan at least, so he could start there. What would a Lesan carry?
Ran Serys
. She was the overseer for the lesson, just to help the Padawan in case he needed it. He briefly, ever so subtly, smiled.
