𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐬

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ⸺ 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝.

1543 standard hours. Year 7963 (14 BBY)
Salin Corridor, Stinger Mantis.

⚡︎ ⁺.  ◍ 。

       𝓗EAD IN HER hands and elbows on the table, Væmas had been staring at the two lightsabers placed before her as she was trying to look right through them. They had caused so much pain and death, which Væmas did not want to overlook. However, the crystal inside them had no will: they were not evil, nor good; simply what the user made of them. And yet, laying again her hands on those weapons repulsed her.

She didn't let Cal touch them; with his psychometric powers, he would have been overwhelmed by the — undoubtedly — horrifying past of the sabers. Væmas herself could feel the negative energy pulsing from them.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and sit up, straightening her back, before calling out to the Force. She felt the lightsabers rising from the table and the pieces separating from one another, staying perfectly aligned. Gracefully moving her hands, she removed the crystals from the rest of the parts and let those falling gently back onto the table.

Opening her eyes, she let the crystals float above her hands, shining in a bright red color. Tilting her hands, she did not fight her instincts and let the Force guide her: shutting her eyes again, she focused on cleansing the crystals from the dark side energy they contained. Væmas made out a red light behind her eyelids, pulling out of the crystals and into her and then her pushing it out into the universe.

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again and let the crystals fall in her hands. When her glance fell on them again, she raised her eyebrows in surprise as she realized they had changed color. From bright red, they had turned to a shimmering white.

Studying the parts of Malicos' lightsaber left, she decided to change the covering parts of the saber, this red and black did not suit her at all. Looking in the box Cere had put next to her, she managed to find several needed parts, the diagram of lightsaber building coming naturally back in her head. Building lightsabers again reminded her of her trip back from Ilum, with all the other younglings, when she built her first under the supervision of Huyang, the professor architect droid who had helped younglings build their lightsabers for thousands of years.

Væmas still used Malicos' emitter matrixes as she could not find two in the box. After the parts reunited, she closed her eyes again and moved her hands, following the will of the Force as her lightsabers assembled. She felt the instant moment where they were constructed and opened her eyes. The silver lining was shining and in appearance, they were built right, but Væmas still felt she was missing something.

Her glance fell on the building tool Cal had left for her in case she needed it. Seizing it, she started carving the metal of her lightsabers, reproducing spirals and volutes that she saw when she mediated, how she viewed the Force. It seemed only fitting that the design went on her lightsabers.

She was done after twenty or so minutes and looked at her creation, a satisfied smile lightening up her face. The silver lining caught reflection of the light, the volutes twisting around the hilt in a delicate pattern.

Getting up from the stool she was sitting on, she grabbed one in each hand, feeling comforted by their weight. This time, it felt right. It felt hers. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the igniting switch, expecting to have blue blades like she did back in the Clone Wars.

But her eyes opened wide when she saw the color of the blades. They were bright white.

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