Santos looks out over the Nar Shaddaa city scape. The sun’s just set for the night, although you wouldn’t know it from the permanent golden haze of lights and pollution. The Chiss had to find his way on to the roof of the highest build in the sector simply to escape some of the neon and noise below. For this task, he wanted solitude. He’s comforted by the soft sound of a vorpak purring, softly and steadily. He certainly received a few unwelcome looks while walking through the city with Lirj on his shoulder, but not many people would dare make a comment to someone of his size.
Laid out in front of him on a rolled out rectangle of leather are all the components he had collected, and a list, each item accompanied by two rushed check marks. Santos reaches into a concealed pocket in his coat and removes a small pouch. He tips the pouch over, just above his free hand, allowing a small, orange crystal to tumble out. He quickly takes inventory of everything, and once satisfied that he has everything, it’s time to begin.
Callia had explained to him in great detail what needed to go where, although she embellished the process greatly with her Jedi rituals. His Holocron also provided him with a great deal of insight into the process of building a lightsaber, and Qel-Droma too included his fair share of ritual. The numerous differences between his two instructors were a testament to how much the Jedi order had changed over the millennia, and yet the core of what they were and worked towards remained consistent.
Personally, Santos never had much use for such ritual and structure, so he freely ignored that aspect of the task at hand, and focused entirely on the technical lessons. Although entirely convinced that he could construct the entire weapon with his hands, in this moment he chooses to follow tradition and exclusively use the Force. It’s a chance to practice using his abilities with precision. One by one his components begin floating, moving gracefully through the air until they find their place in the whole. He works quickly, every minute he spends on other endeavours is a minute not spent on rescuing Zet.
With the internal components in place, Santos begins to begins to encapsulate it in the outer casing. Soon, all the remains is a smooth, reflective hilt, floating in the air. Santos is fairly certain he did not follow Callia’s instructions perfectly. His creation appears to be nearly twice the length of the hilt she carries. The hilt itself displays no indication of switches, buttons or toggles. Instead, the polished, silvery finish is broken up by etched lines, cutting through the metal in a way that reminds him of the glaciers he grew up surrounded by. In the centre of the hilt, the seven pointed sun of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force draws attention to a single round button. As Santos takes the item in his hand and applies slight pressure to the button, a beam of vibrant orange light bursts out of either end of the hilt. Each blade is guided out of the hilt by four small, curved blades inspired by the Clawcraft, the first starship he had ever piloted, back when he served in the military of his people. The blades themselves pulse with an energy barely contained within the force fields giving them shape. He feels a startled Lirj press her eight tiny feet firmly into his shoulder as a small burst of energy extends out of a blade like a solar flare before quickly being absorbed one more.
Santos observes his work for a few minutes, and then calls the blades back into the hilt. He hides the device in one of the hidden compartments of his coat and makes his way back to the Rainbow Dash. There’s still work to be done.