"It's only meant to be one," Cal says, laughing lightly. "My master's, his was originally a double-bladed lightsaber. One end was damaged that day when... well, when everything happened."
He's a little more prepared to tell about it, at least. It will always be painful, but he's come to terms with it, able to really move forward. It's why he'd really decided to go through with trying to make a new lightsaber here. He wanted something to protect those he'd come to care about in this new place, and to help those that they'd been summoned by.
"Our ship was in Bracca's system, and we were about ready to head out again when something happened. I'd just finished another training exercise, and we had our commander there with us while we awaited our new orders when he suddenly raised his gun to fire at my master." Cal frowns, still unsettled by those moments, by the casual shift in someone he'd considered a comrade to become an enemy. "Master Tapal felt it, something through the Force. He had to strike the commander down, and we'd soon end up having to face our own troops.
"I lost my lightsaber when I was trying to get away since Master Tapal told me to take another way to the escape pods. Ran into some troopers. Thankfully he was there when he was. But I keep thinking...if I hadn't, then maybe..." Maybe he'd still be alive. Maybe they would have had more of a chance. Cal can't help but think those things, but he knows the past is the past. There's no changing what's happened. But it still hurts.
He looks at his empty hands as though trying to remember what his original lightsaber had looked like, curling his fingers to his palm. "We eventually made it to the escape pods," he eventually continues. "More of our troops caught us there, and it was taking me time to get the override for the doors working. We were under heavy fire, but Master Tapal was doing his best to defend us. That's when his lightsaber got damaged." He swallows, those memories seared in his mind. His master faltering, blaster-fire still flying all around them. His fear.
"He fought to protect me, and ended up taking the brunt of the attacks. When he fell, I just..." Fingers brush the scar there on the side of his face as he recalls the burning pain. "I reached out through the Force in desperation. I just wanted them to stop, and somehow I managed to slow them down. Not for long, but enough for us to make it into the pod and escape." Cal closes his eyes. "...there was no saving my master. His injuries were too much. He told me the war wasn't over, and to wait for the Council," he says, shaking his head. A signal from the Council would never come, although Cal had still clung onto the hope of one for some time even after that. But that hope had eventually faded. He lets out a slow breath.
"...he pushed the lightsaber into my hands, telling me to trust only in the Force. And then...I was alone."
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He's a little more prepared to tell about it, at least. It will always be painful, but he's come to terms with it, able to really move forward. It's why he'd really decided to go through with trying to make a new lightsaber here. He wanted something to protect those he'd come to care about in this new place, and to help those that they'd been summoned by.
"Our ship was in Bracca's system, and we were about ready to head out again when something happened. I'd just finished another training exercise, and we had our commander there with us while we awaited our new orders when he suddenly raised his gun to fire at my master." Cal frowns, still unsettled by those moments, by the casual shift in someone he'd considered a comrade to become an enemy. "Master Tapal felt it, something through the Force. He had to strike the commander down, and we'd soon end up having to face our own troops.
"I lost my lightsaber when I was trying to get away since Master Tapal told me to take another way to the escape pods. Ran into some troopers. Thankfully he was there when he was. But I keep thinking...if I hadn't, then maybe..." Maybe he'd still be alive. Maybe they would have had more of a chance. Cal can't help but think those things, but he knows the past is the past. There's no changing what's happened. But it still hurts.
He looks at his empty hands as though trying to remember what his original lightsaber had looked like, curling his fingers to his palm. "We eventually made it to the escape pods," he eventually continues. "More of our troops caught us there, and it was taking me time to get the override for the doors working. We were under heavy fire, but Master Tapal was doing his best to defend us. That's when his lightsaber got damaged." He swallows, those memories seared in his mind. His master faltering, blaster-fire still flying all around them. His fear.
"He fought to protect me, and ended up taking the brunt of the attacks. When he fell, I just..." Fingers brush the scar there on the side of his face as he recalls the burning pain. "I reached out through the Force in desperation. I just wanted them to stop, and somehow I managed to slow them down. Not for long, but enough for us to make it into the pod and escape." Cal closes his eyes. "...there was no saving my master. His injuries were too much. He told me the war wasn't over, and to wait for the Council," he says, shaking his head. A signal from the Council would never come, although Cal had still clung onto the hope of one for some time even after that. But that hope had eventually faded. He lets out a slow breath.
"...he pushed the lightsaber into my hands, telling me to trust only in the Force. And then...I was alone."