I'm not alone, out in the blue (Lightsaber Construction)

[Corey's OOC]

There was something to be said about being patient. Marek Starchaser knew that well. In the wilds, no matter what world you found yourself on, you needed to be patient. But not brooding. Waiting for the opportune moment was the only way to make it. Rush yourself, or not seize the moment as it is presented to you, and you’re as good as dead. There was nothing out there that wanted to help you. You had your wits, your equipment, or lack thereof, and your skills These were what got you to safety.

And despite his rising position within the Confederacy and with the financial backing of the Haor Chall Engineering company behind him, he was not forgetting his roots. Sure, he was able to afford his hot rod shuttle, the astromech droid, and all of the gear he could ever want, but there was something that wasn’t going to change. Marek was a survivor, he knew his roots, and he was going to prove he could still do what needed to be done.

Having left his ship, astromech and most of his belongings back at the Roon Sanctum. What he did have was a revolver-based slug thrower, his kukri blade, and his wits. Making it into the wilds of the still not so familiar world wearing a sleeveless shirt, denim pants and boots. He knew what he was after. Very little food, but hopefully he wouldn’t need it. The Force would give him all he needed in this little adventure.

Around his neck was the crystal, the one he pulled from the underwater cave on his homeworld. Tied up with a nerf hide cord, he could feel it press against his skin. He was ready for this. He knew what he needed to do. He had been studying the holocrons. He was memorizing them. In his bag was a pad of flimsi-sheets, just in case, along with the parts he needed. The parts he had been collecting. The parts he had been purchasing. They were all here. He was going to finally get this blade down, and take up the mantle that the Starchasers before him had.

But he was something different. He was still on the same page as his predecessors with the Force, that it could be used from either side, so long as the goals were placed. But unlike them, Marek was adding to a tradition, not just entering service. He was following a code, like his family, similar, but different, but there was so much more he was doing here.

That was why he was getting out. He was escaping the Sanctum, and the ships he had. The only bit of technology he had was the initial power cell for his lightsaber. The rest was all things that would work just as well if all the electricity in the galaxy disappeared. He was getting out so he could get his thoughts together. So many things were happening so fast in his life that he was forgetting how to reach out to himself. But that was going to change.

Taking a deep breath of the wooded air, he was smiling. He knew there was a sea up this direction. He had the perfect place in mind. It came to him, in a dream, or a vision, and he knew it was going to be there. It was the place where he was going to take his next step on his path.

 

[Corey's OOC]

It was strange. So many people in this galaxy didn’t know how to unplug themselves. Marek prided himself being and adventurer. He knew where he was supposed to go in life, and what he didn’t know, he made up as he went along. Maybe that was the pilot blood in the Starchaser line. Still, he wasn’t concerned with being a pilot. He had his shuttle, and that was what he needed. It got him from point A to point B, if he needed anything else for Templar work, that would be provided, and he’d fly that just as well.

But see?

People being plugged in constantly lost their train of thought. This wasn’t about what Marek was able to do, he knew what he was able to do. He would be a fair pilot, just the same as he was a good shot. He was a survivor, and learning new tasks and how to work in new situations was what kept him alive.

That and knowing where to step. To anyone nearby, there wouldn’t be a sound coming from Marek, well, aside from rustling, but no snapped twigs or missed steps. He was surefooted even in this scrub. He had his eyes open, but he wasn’t exactly seeing. He was reaching out with the Force, and looking for where the vision was telling him to go. It was overlooking the sea, the environment that Marek preferred over any else.

Water and the tropics. Besides, they did have the most fun options available to him, with water sports and just… being warm. The orange lightsaber that was going to be his within the next few hours was not only a representation of the Corellian heritage and the undersea caves, but of the sun, and fire. Heat, and what he would bring. Maybe it was foreshadowing with his studying under various Sith?

Still, he continued on.

How much time had passed? Was he that far into his thoughts? Passing throught he scrub, Marek fell back into himself, back to the hear and now, not to the past. Not to the survival lessons from his father, the Jedi Sentinel lessons of blending in from his father and grandfather, of avoiding the Force, and blocking what was coming against him. That was the base line for tutaminis, and Force resistance, somerhing he could and would learn. From the thoughts of those lessons, to the Zeison Sha and their similar goals and ideals to the Templar, of surviving and protecting their own, while proving to be your own being. That was important.

Maybe after he constructed his lightsaber, he’d visit Yanibarto see if he could pass a trial to procure a Discblade. After all, he was pretty solid with the projectile guidance. Still, at this point, it was time to clear his mind again. And to get ready.

 

[Corey's OOC]

He was taking his steps. Now that he had found where he was to build his lightsaber, the Templar Aspirant put his bag down. Inside were the parts of his lightsaber that he ahd assembled. Sure, it wasn’t his lightsaber yet, but these parts would come to a whole and create him his orange blade, with the ultima pearl stylings on the outside. Something that represented him, represented his home, and represented the sea. He needed to make sure this blade echoed him in every way.

The metallic cylinder actually came from Charros IV, and was from the plants where his company assembled its droid starfighters. The crystal from Corellia, and the pearls from Dac. Several pieces were just purchased about the galaxy, and that was fine by him. He had everything he needed. Closing his eyes and taking a seat on the cliff, he was clearing his mind.

Reaching out to the Force, he surrounded each and every piece of his future weapon. His tool. His eternal companion. A deep breath in, and out. The weapon slowly came together, the parts were clicking into place. The emitter and internal circuitry that would give the blade its length. Following this was the crystal mount, and the orange lightsaber crystal.

The pieces were fitting together, both physically, and metaphysically, in the Force, like they belonged together. He knew this was supposed to happen, but even Marek had his doubts if it actually would work for him. It was going to be what it was going to be. He knew this blade now. He could feel the crystal, feel the pulse of the Force in the blade, that reflected him. With the Force, he moved the diatium power cell into place, and the cap on the base of the weapon was soon to follow. Screwing it in, Marek was rotating the blade in front of him, only seeing it with the Force.

He could feel the power in the weapon.

Could feel its purpose.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t sure how much time had gone by. Time was relative, in the eyes of the Force, after all. The proper amount of time went by as he bonded with the crystal and turned it into his lightsaber. His weapon. He knew that there was a time for everything, that included palaver with foes, and time with loved ones, as well as the creation and expansion of one person’s being.

Waking up to the real world, and the darkened sky, it was sometime post dusk and pre-dawn, but close to one as the sky still held some of the sun’s color, he grabed the blade hilt as it felt from his hold in the Force. Was it done?

Would it work?

 

[Corey's OOC]

Everything was going to depend on this next moment. Slowly rotating the cylindrical hilt in his hand, he was letting his fingers feel it as much as the Force was. This was his blade. It was going to become a permanent part of his armory, and his personal equipment. He had the melee weapon that he was going to use if people ever came close enough. He was going to need to learn how to use it properly. Sure, there was training here and there from the Holocrons, but he needed to actually learn to use it.

And use it well.

A deep breath and his thumb pressing the activator switch, the orange blade jumped to life with a distinct snap and holding a strong hiss. A wave back and forth and he could hear it reacting to the air, feel the hum in his hands, and the Force. A new Templar was armed with a lightsaber. The weapon of the Jedi and the Sith and other groups. He was adding this to his experience, to his abilities.

Carrying it now was more of a tool, a shock instrument to those that don’t realize what he is. When he let people get in close enough, he could use this, much like the kukri it will be replacing, to slash at foes. It won’t be much besides a blunt instrument without the training he needed.

This, in addition to his Czerka slugthrower, Templar Crossbow and his blaster rifle, were going to be his constant companions, his valued belongings. He was ready to fully take up the mantle of his Aspirant position. He was working hard now, but he was ready to take up the defense against other Force users, now that he the proper weapon. He was going to need to find a way to keep them at bay. And that was probably with more than just battle droids.

He did have a walk back to make. There was time to consider the world during that during the trip back to the Sanctum.

-End-