trans_9 | slivers of bone & tooth

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slivers of bone & tooth

Arha had left a message for Obi-Wan some time ago that she was taking the day to work on lightsaber crystal shaping. With the image of his crystal firmly embedded in her mind, she had begun tooling down a length of wormtooth and working it into a recognizable crystal-shape. The milk white crystalline mineral was finely cut now, hours later, and she sported several cuts on her hands and fingers from the taxing process. She began on another, determined that if something should go wrong with the installation of one, backup would be a good plan to have.

"Sallat Allah bi-kaswatay-h al-jaam!" she snarled as a razor sharp edge bit into the fleshy part of her forefinger. The translation didn't matter at all, and Stacy provided none for the particularly painful sounding oath. Arha half-hissed as she popped her forefinger into her mouth. Another slice to add to her connection. At least she clotted almost instantly.

It still didn't make the process fun or the wormtooth any better to work with at all.

After a moment of coddling her injured finger, she carefully used fine mister to spray off the blood and a small air jet to dry it before suspending it (which resulted in another slice and yet another curse) in the holders she had fashioned that allowed her to used the Force to rotate the piece as she was working on it. She sat back a moment, sucking at her doubly injured finger a bit more and scowled at the second piece in frustration.

This was going to take hours more.

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Luke, on his way back from talking to Steve, picked up a thread of frustration from Arha and headed her way, to see what she was up to.

"Hey, Arha," he called as he came into the place where she was working. "What are you up to?"

"Be silent," she growled almost atop his words as she nudged the semi-crystalline shaped tooth a few centimeters in the other direction with the Force and focused the cutting tool. A barely perceptible whine sang out as fine granules of mineral were shaved off. Frustration was putting it lightly as far as words went. His distraction had thrown her off a hair and the cut went too deep, which would result in a definitely deadly flaw. It would either shatter or fizz if her calculations were correct.

Arha let out another series of untranslated and particularly pointed oaths as she dropped the now useless 'crystal'. She took a moment to slump forward and grind the heels of her palms against her closed eyes. The sigh she let out was decidedly rough and she swept at a shard of wormtooth, annoyed, and wound up sucking on another fine cut for her efforts.

"Sit," she managed, mumbling around her thumb. Arha still managed a fierce scowl even if she was sucking at the wound like a cranky two year old.

Luke's smile fell off his face and right onto the floor. "I'm sorry," he said, now feeling very contrite for interrupting what was undoubtedly delicate work. "I didn't mean to make you make a bad cut... are your hands all right?"

"I am trying for death by wormtooth decades early," she said, flashing a quick view of the fine slices she'd managed to gain from a day's worth of cutting. Her sharp gaze caught his and she let her shoulders slump forward. She had made Luke feel bad and this was not acceptable.

"I should not have been rude, but this is..." Arha waved, frustration splattering in all directions. "Horrible. It is horrible and I am cranky but I must do this thing because I wish to have a crystal and--" Her jaw tightened. "I sound like a petulant child."

Edited 2009-12-07 06:14 (UTC)

"You sound like a woman on a mission," he said, and projected soothing feelings toward her. "And it's all right, I was intruding and didn't think to check ahead. Acknowledge your frustration, and let it go again. It'll do you no good when trying delicate work... trust me, I failed a dozen times and more to make this lightsaber--" he gestured to the one on his belt now "But it was only when I trusted myself and was relaxed, at peace, that I succeeded." The flash of apology at interrupting her delicate work gone, he cast around, eyes landing at last on the beautifully tooled crysblade handle.

"Is this finished?" he asked, gesturing to the hilt.

Arha closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, trying to work some of the tension out of them even as she let the frustration go--letting his soothing in helped. A moment later and her eyes opened. Luke had a point, a good one. There was more to making a lightsaber than just throwing components together, but Arha realized that the hands she were using now had never done this sort of work before. Many generations back, a woman had been a jewelry maker who had cut her own stones. The knowledge was something Arha drew heavily on.

"I am nearly always on one mission or another," she finally said, laughing, then gestured at the hilt. "I told myself that I will not fiddle with its etching any longer. I am satisfied with it, at least. If you wish, you may inspect it."

He did so, going over to pick it up carefully and examine the intricate carvings, the honed edge of the crysknife. "It's a weapon that suits you," he said at last. "My students made their lightsabers to represent themselves, but also their master. I see you're following Obi-Wan's design for the inner workings of your saber, but this outside and perhaps the crystal is all you." Luke grinned at her. "Beautiful and completely capable of defending yourself."

Arha dipped her head and half smiled. They were true words, though she was not certain she was...as good looking as all of that. She hoped the crystal would work, for it was the true heart of the weapon. It was amusing that she could be, perhaps, wielding 'desert power' in the form of a lightsaber.

"I enjoyed the carving of it immensely," she murmured. "The handle was less difficult than the crystals themselves, which apparently thirst for my blood." There was a soft snort that was followed by a slight shake of her head.

"Maybe you should take a break and let those clot a little more. I wish I had bacta patches, that'd get your fingers right back to normal in no time." Luke grinned, setting the hilt down carefully and taking his place opposite her and the area around her with wormtooth shards everywhere.

"It is as good a time to take a break as any," she said, her expression turning to an exasperated sort of wryness. Arha studied her fingers, then gently licked the most recent of the cuts. It smarted fiercely and she winced. "I am beginning to think there is a price to pay for this lightsaber building."

"Well, it's meant to be kind of a rite of passage," Luke said. "In the old Order as well as the new. If a trainee can build their own lightsaber, they're ready for more advanced instruction. It's a way to make sure you're ready for the next level."

"It will be the crystals I shall struggle with the most, I think," Arha said quietly. "But I see. It is a good test of ability. It requires a certain finesse and level of concentration, this I can see."

"That was the problem of the New Order when I was rebuilding it. The Emperor had ordered all the crystal caves destroyed or looted, so we were left making synth-crystals or using whatever else we could." He thought of Tenel Ka again, who had smashed a tiara that could have bought several Outer Rim systems to use one of the famed rainbow gems of Gallinore in the lightsaber she made after losing her arm; of Jacen, who had used a Corusca gem, of Lowbacca, who had used a focusing crystal from a piece of old electronic equipment. "But you're smart and innovative, and I know you'll be able to construct one. You don't give up."

"This is a certain thing," Arha said with a grin. "If one thing does not work, I shall try another. There are always options. I do not think I shall ever simply give up. That would be too easy."

"Not to mention you'd probably disappoint Obi-Wan something fierce," Luke said quietly. "But quitting is so unlike you that if you did I'd have to question if it was really you in front of me!"

"I might question my faculties myself," she said with wide eyes. "And one does not simply disappoint Obi-Wan in such a manner. It is...not done. No, I shall complete my lightsaber and that is that. It will take however long it takes once the crystals are complete."

"I look forward to seeing the completed saber," he said with a grin. "Hey, are you hungry?"

Arha thought about it for awhile, her expression serious. She was looking forward to completing her lightsaber and most of her mind was on that rather than on anything else. Her stomach decided the issue for her.

Loudly.

Arha gave Luke a sideways look.

"Apparently I am," she said with a laugh.

Luke chuckled. "Why don't we eat something? You can't keep doing great work like this if you don't take care of your body. We can change the setting to something new if you like."

"I would have you pick a place," Arha said with a tug of a grin. "I think I have a need to try something new. Perhaps something you enjoy, yes? I should be...dressed appropriately, I think, but I do not know what Such is a vexing thing and I wish to, at least temporarily, not be stuck in this suit." An instant later, she found herself clad in an off the shoulder tunic length soft sand colored sweater that was ribbed and textured, with long sleeves that came over her knuckles, and in snug black leather pants with knee high sand colored boots.

She blinked and then rubbed her cheek against the sweater almost wistfully. It was a shame she could not go out of the sensoriums with the sweater itself. It was soft and comfortable, though it was supposedly not really there.

Luke blinked once, but took her sudden change in wardrobe easily. Before Mara's arrival, it would have flustered him more, but now he just smiled. "That looks comfortable," he said, and then looked up at the ceiling as the world shifted, changed, and became the homey dining area of the Lars homestead on Tatooine.

It was evening, so it was still warm but not unbearable, and there were two trays of food steaming on the table. Luke's clothing had changed to his loose tunic, leggings, and boots that he'd worn so long ago as a boy. This was comfortable to him.

"It is very comfortable," she said, already inspecting the dining area with a soft tug of a grin, her fingers trailing over curves and corners before she found her way back to the table. The heat, too, was comfortable and she spent a few moments soaking it up with her head slightly tilted as she leaned against the table.

"This is a good place," Arha murmured.

"I grew up here," he said, gesturing to one of the benches alongside the table. Outside, Tatoo I and II lit the rim of the sinkhole with an orange glow. "This was where my aunt and uncle lived, and me too, when Obi-Wan brought me here after I was born."

"This place would have been comfortable on my Arrakis," she murmured almost lazily as she finally turned and sat. "Big, too. My cave was probably only a little larger than this room as it was--as you have seen. I like this place." Arha peered at the food, inspecting it with wide and curious eyes.

Her own plate had her daily intake of spice in it, naturally, but she knew the taste and texture would be as it should be. It was still food not from her world and she was naturally gleeful when it came to trying new things.

"I miss it sometimes," he said. "Coruscant is nice, but sometimes I want to see the sunrise hit the rim up there, and go out and feel the desert heating up around me."

"There is no better place than that in which you are most at home," Arha said with a smile. "It has a better sound to it, a better feel, than any other place. So I have observed. My own desert sands are a home of sorts, though they were such out of necessity. I, too, sometimes wish to see my sands in such a manner and hear the roar of the Maker in the distance. Familiar things, they are appreciated."

"Especially when we're called on to do unfamiliar things," Luke murmured, half to himself, as he slid into a seat. "We want to sink into familiarity and surround ourselves with it. The unfamiliar can sure be a scary thing."

He bowed his head a moment considering the food, then smiled at her. "It looks and smells just like Aunt Beru's nerf steaks and greens. I've dined at some of the best restaurants the galaxy has to offer, and despite all that, I've missed this the most."

"I suppose that one's early life can be defined by such things," Arha said, lost for a moment as she looked back over her life. "I cannot say that I have much to remember save worm rides to get away from my mentor and flaky spice cakes. Kalim did not much partake in the spice cakes, those were for me. In the early days, I did not know that the Bene Gesserit were pushing me toward spice saturation. I learned, though, that there was a measure of spice in all things given to me. But I still love spice cakes despite this."

She carefully prized a piece of steak away and looked pleasantly surprised. It tasted good. Arha had never much had meat. The occasional fowl made a good meal, but they were rangy, small things barely worth cooking. One ate what the desert gave them.

"Your aunt was a good cook," Arha said, once she had finished the small piece.

"She was, considering we didn't really have that much," Luke said, digging into his own plate with gusto. "Moisture farming isn't always a high-paying venture."

"Desert creatures know how to make do with very little and still make of things their best," Arha said. "She has my respect for doing so well with what she had. What sort of place did you grown the greens in?"

She took her time eating, as she always did, mulling the flavors around. It was good, considering she'd never truly eaten much meat. She wasn't a vegetarian, of course, but the desert did not have bulky things running around with gobs of meat on their bones.

...and one did not eat Harkonnen, no matter how fat some of them were.

Sheeana smelled the blood before she heard the cursing. A sensitive nose picked it out.

She opened the door to the sensorium-turned-workshop and waited for Arha to take a break, observing her deep in her concentration. She didn't wish to interrupt her and add to her collection of little wounds. Well, this is certainly one way to honor the precept that a crysknife must taste blood if it is drawn... She thought with her usual wry humor.

It was useless to ask something like 'What are you doing to that defenseless crysknife?'. If she felt like explaining she would.

The lightsaber handle, which was finished and delicately carved with swirls and etched with curling lines representative of wind gusts sat within reach, its gleaming milk-whiteness tempered with the soft brown of the outer layer of wormtooth. It looked more art than it did weapon and Arha was quite pleased with it. It curved just a little as it came to the butt--the place in which she had formed a crysblade that was in every way the same as a normal one. That part had been wrapped in a sheath.

Arha did not acknowledge Sheeana for a very long time, not until the crucial cuts had been made and the crystal (and still she cut herself more) was at a point in which she felt comfortable coming back to it once more. She left off, annoyed with her progress, with a soft huff and turned to face her Sister.

"I am making a lightsaber," she said without preamble. "It needs a crystal for energy to pass through." She flicked her now sore fingers at the offending thing. "This work is death by a thousand slivers of wormtooth, but I will see it through." Arha stretched, twisting to work out the knots on her shoulders and neck and growled softly at the ones she couldn't reach. She was tired and cranky and not particularly enamored of this crystal cutting venture, but she was making a Jed-Eye weapon and such a thing demanded she give it it's due.

Now this was an interesting thing. Clearly the wormtooth was meant to enhance the weapon somehow. The details of engineering were lost on her but she could tell that if a Reverend Mother's hands found it difficult then it would have been an impossible task for a normal person. "And the wormtooth provides that crystal? At least this one you will be able to sheath, for it has drawn more than enough blood." A cheap joke.

She could sense tension in Arha's muscles. They pulsed angrily under her skin, reflecting her mood. "Let me get some of those for you."

"Wormtooth is proving stubborn to craft at such a level," Arha grumbled, shifting slightly. "Even if it tries my patience, I shall not give up. I believe I may require two crystals, now that I think on it. This means I shall have to make four and--" She gave in and let Sheeana have access to the muscles that had more knots than she could work out herself. "Just one took me all morning."

Her wave was slight, though her expression slid to a half smile at the joke.

"The wormtooth will provide the crystal if it is shaped correctly. It seems I re-learn this craft with new fingers. But I fear I am wasting tooth with this madness. I, at least, draw comfort in the fact that the handle is complete."

Now this was a sculptor's problem, she thought as she pressed the points in Arha's back that knotted and pulsed with tension.

"Why don't you put a sensitive holtzman shield on the wormtooth? When you slip, your hand accelerates. You might end up striking yourself a few times as it bounces your hand back, but that has to be better than the razzia you're inflicting on your fingers now. Though I am curious about the wormtooth being used as a focusing medium..."

"That is a possibility, though there is a part of me that knows wormtooth will get its blood one way or another," Arha said and let out a noise that was somewhere between relief and a growl as a knot released. "If I have the right facets and the right sized crystal-teeth, I should be able to focus the energy to produce the proper frequency to generate a lightsaber blade."

"Honestly..." Sheeana said as she pressed another one out. "...it is disgraceful that a Reverend Mother should allow such knots to form in the well honed instrument of her trapezius. But ah, the Jedi's weapon? They are fascinating. I tested a simulation once. Did you know that they don't cause an atomic reaction within a Holtzman shield?"

"I was too intent upon my work to care about ah knots," Arha said, grumbling but relieved as the knot eased. "Truly, they do not? This is a good thing to know. I am pleased we will not be fried and reduced to ash should the issue come about."

The old Jedi did not say anything as he entered the sensoriums. Rather he merely took a sit across from Arha and watched her progress. It was a delicate process - of that he knew - to carve the crystals by hand. Qui-Gon had successfully picked up his belongings from the locker and felt more at ease with his lightsaber attached to his belt once more. Over the last few days he explored the ship, the only level he had left to wander through was the one containing the city. It deserved a thorough look as it seemed to be filled with much more oddities than the other levels.

He would continue to sit in silence until she was ready to acknowledge him.

A wise man, indeed, was Qui-Gon. Arha cut the crystal into its proper shape, the previous practice with the first significantly speeding the process with the second. Her slight flick of a glance was all the acknowledgement he received for a good hour and a half. The finished crystal itself finally floated it its holder as Arha sat back and peered at Qui-Gon.

He had found his own lightsaber, it seemed. Her fingers itched to take it apart to see its insides--no doubt it would match Obi-Wan's own, but still. If she could take it apart, she could put one together. Her schematics, the ones she had worked on after memorizing Obi-Wan's, rotated into view, and replaced the large crystal view that she had been replicating. Arha waved the whole thing away and began cleaning up the mess of wormtooth dust. The shavings and slivered shards would be returned to the sands of her own worm. Absently, Arha reached for a larger shard and bit down on another oath.

Blood beaded across her palm for a moment as she frowned down at the shard. She was not sure there were gloves that would protect her hands from the bite of worm. Arha folded the offending thing up in a scrap of cloth she had been using as a dust bag and then with a great deal of petulance, licked at the already clotted wound.

She would not recommend crafting wormtooth crystals to any but those who healed quickly. The delicate work was clearly dangerous and highly frustrating. Her eyes settled back onto Qui-Gon as a tea pot and two small cups materialized.

"It is time for tea," she said firmly, her voice edged with barely contained frustration. A bitter cinnamon scent wafted from her cup, though it was a sweet, mellow tea. She supposed that Qui-Gon's was different in that it contained no actual spice melange. Perhaps the odd taste was still there, perhaps it changed to suit his tastes, this she did not know.

The crystal hung there, rotating, and she gave it a particularly sour look. It dropped on to the table a second later, cold to the touch, and she nudged it across the table towards the first with the Force.

Edited 2009-12-08 14:19 (UTC)

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slivers of bone & tooth

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