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Caleb walked through the halls of the temple. He could hear the traffic of Coruscant on the balcony that served as a walkway. The morning air was fresh and younglings and Padawans ran around him, heading to their lessons. He could feel the excitement and nerves of the older younglings, most of them having just been introduced to shielding and projected into the force still.
The tournament was in a few days, and they were likely heading towards saber training. He smiled at a pair talking excitedly to each other about which Jedi they would want as a master. He continued on towards master Yoda’s quarters. The old master had requested he pay a visit, needing to talk to him about something.
Caleb didn’t have a clue what it could be about. He was on a resting period since his own master's death 4 months ago. The council thought it wise to allow Caleb to adjust to his new rank of Jedi Knight, and mourn his master before sending him on any missions.
When the Jedi arrived, he heard Yoda call him in before he knocked. Opening the door, the young man saw Yoda sitting on a cushion, “You asked to speak with me?”
“Yes, Caleb Dume. Much to discuss, we have,” the Master gestured for Caleb to sit, “How have you been faring, hmm?”
Caleb thought for a moment. The last few months had been hard for him. At first he was restless and angry. Why should the council put him on probation? He fought beside Master Depa, she sacrificed herself for him. He thought he should be honoring that by helping others on the far reaches of the galaxy. Caleb was frustrated, and blamed those on the council for that frustration. Then one night someone knocked on the door, and opening it he saw his grandmaster.
“Caleb, we need to talk.” Master Windu’s face was serious. They two sat across from each other as Mace explained the council wasn’t asking him to rest as punishment for Billaba’s death, rather to give him time to mourn. He felt sending the young man on missions would act as a distraction, forcing Caleb to internalize and suppress his emotions. The grief wouldn’t be allowed to leave him if this happened, and it could take over him. “Use this time to acknowledge the pain you feel, and let it go. Don’t forget you are not alone right now. You are mourning your master, I am mourning my Padawan.”
Caleb had been doing better since that night. It was easy to ignore emotions with the excuse of the Jedi code, but from a young age those within the temple walls were taught to acknowledge rather than suppress emotions. The young man found he always struggled with doing so, but tried to improve over the years.
“I’m doing better. Assisting at the creche has helped me feel optimistic again.”
Yoda smiled at that, everyone knew the old Jedi had a soft spot for children.
“Glad to hear that, I am.”
Caleb knew Yoda liked to stay quiet to try and get others to say more than they were intending to and decided to move things along, “I doubt you called me here just to talk about how I am.”
“No. Another matter to discuss, we have. Attend the tournament, you should.”
“The Padawan tournament?”
Yoda chuckled, “Is there another, I was not made aware of, hmm?”
Caleb rubbed the back of his neck, he supposed there wasn’t.
“Why do you want me to attend?” The Jedi knight was planning on taking the day of the tournament to go into town and restock groceries. He thought the tournament was interesting to watch, and he always assumed he would take on a Padawan eventually but that was before Master Depa had died. Now he barely felt like a Jedi Knight.
“A vision from the force, I have had. Attend the tournament, you must.”
“I don’t know…” Caleb had no need to be there.
“Not a question. With Master Windu you will sit. Told him you would, I did.”
Caleb stared at the Jedi Master in front of him, his shock evident on his face. Of course he told Master Windu that he would sit with him. Yoda was notorious for meddling then calling it the will of the force.
Then again, who knows… maybe it was.
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With his day now occupied with the Padawan tournament, Caleb decided to go into town today. He headed towards the mess, for the more immediate issue of breakfast. He turned a corner only to be hit square in the stomach by a kid. The child fell back onto his butt, dropping his books everywhere.
“Sorry!” he started gathering his books up, “I was running late to saber training and I should have been paying more-”
The kid stopped when Caleb handed him the rest of his books, “You’re alright kid, your instructor will understand, just maybe avoid running in the halls.” The child looked bashful, a tint of blush on his tan cheeks.
“Thanks,” he gave the kid a hand to stand him up and the youngling started speed walking down the hall. Caleb thought he heard the sound of running again just as soon as he was out of the child's line of sight.
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Caleb walked into his once shared quarters, setting his bags down on the table. He ran a hand over his head, tightening his ponytail. He still had a bit of hair behind his ear that he clipped back from where his braid was severed. Most senior Padawans shaved their head so all the hair could regrow the same length, but he liked the length and he could always shave it later if it became tiresome. He put his groceries away, going to the fresher to shower Coruscant off. He changed into an army green undershirt, with brown robes overtop.
The young man decided on the gardens to meditate. It was his late master's favorite spot, her connection with the living force strong. He settled against a tree, slipping into a late meditation. He felt the ebb and flow of the plants around him, almost like the whole garden was breathing. Caleb felt a nag at the back of his mind, but pushed it aside. A few moments passed before he felt it again.
Cracking open an eye, he saw the youngling that had run into him sitting about 2 meters away. The Jedi sighed, chuckling to himself. He felt the boy trying to meditate, but being obviously distracted. He looked to be around 12. His presence in the force was suppressed, but clearly he had little to no training in shielding because feelings of nerves and anticipation slipped through.
Now Caleb was finding it hard to concentrate. He stood, standing to lessen the gap between them. The kid obviously noticed, but was trying to appear as if he was deep in meditation.
Caleb sat with his legs crossed and closed his eyes, but leaned slightly and whispered, “How was your class?”
The boy started in confusion, turning to look at the Jedi Knight. At first it seemed he didn’t recognize Caleb, then a bashful look crossed his face noticing it was the man he had ran into at full speed.
“It was good.” The kid looked down, “I like saber training though.”
“That’s good. It’s important to refine those skills.”
“Yeah, my instructor is hopeful about my technique, or at least I think she is.”
“Oh?”
“I’m hearing less sighs daily from her.”
Caleb laughed at that. He remembered early saber training, before one had a master. It was very… general. It was hard to find a style of fighting that suited you.
“Hey, progress is progress.”
“Yeah…” the child before him looked down, clearly lost in thoughts, his worry creeping into the force. A moment passed.
“Anything on your mind?” Caleb didn’t really know this kid, but he wasn’t just going to let a child deal with something obviously bothering him on his own.
Another moment of silence, before the dark hair kid sighed. “When you competed in the tournament, were you nervous at all?”
Caleb thought for a second, “I think nerves are a natural part of something like that.”
“I guess…”
“Hey kid, what happens, happens. Just trust in the force and do your best.”
“Right.” The child let out a yawn before standing, “I'm going to head back to my quarters. Thanks for… you know,” he made a vague gesture between them.
“Of course, sleep well.” He turned to leave, “I’m Caleb, by the way. Caleb Dume.”
He felt some shock from the child, everyone vaguely knew of his master's recent death.
“I’m Ezra. Ezra Bridger.”
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The day of the tournament came with excitement. The temple was practically buzzing within the force. All the initiates participating felt nervous and ancy, their saber instructors similarly so. The old masters on the council were there to watch, most of them having raised Padawans from initiates. Senior Padawans were there supporting and watching the initiates. Any initiate that didn’t catch a Jedi Knight or master's eye and become a Padawan would go to the service corps.
Ezra felt that weight full force. He was putting on his robes, double checking everything looked neat and proper in the mirror. He took a second to center himself, closing his eyes and breathing. He thought about what the Jedi Knight in the gardens had said. Ezra felt the force flow through him, guiding his mind to a calmer state.
The announcements of the participants were beginning. Two names before him, then “Ezra Bridger” was called. He opened the door, blinding lights of the converted training room greeted him.
This was it.”
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Caleb sat next to his grandmaster. He liked Mace Windu, and felt the older man liked him, but sometimes Caleb had no idea what to talk about with the older man. He was finding his nail very interesting when the Master Windu leaned over to him.
“Any promising candidates you know of?”
Caleb had no idea who any of the initiates were. He had been a little… preoccupied the past month. He looked down the line of initiates, glancing over all of them. He didn’t recognize any until… there! The third boy in was the boy who had run into him and he talked to in the gardens. Bridger! That was his name.
“I’m not too familiar with this group.” He did decide that he would secretly be rooting for Ezra though. The boy was smart and passionate from his short interactions with the child. Caleb felt his resolve through the force more than he felt any other initiates.
The first match came and went, a Twi’lek initiate winning. Ezra was dueling a boy a little taller than him and human. His name was Grev.
Both boys took their starting positions. At the go, Grev started toward Ezra, who easily blocked the boy's swing. Ezra countered with a downwards strike, which Grev dodged. Both boys showed skill in the fight, using the uncomfortable blend of saber techniques well. Grev knocked Ezra’s blade out of his hand, but Ezra swept his leg out from under him while using the force to pull his own blade back. Grev fell flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him, and Ezra’s wooden blade pointed squarely at his neck. The match was called with Ezra as the victor and Caleb felt himself actually excited for the boy. Ezra helped his opponent stand, the two initiate bowed to each other and went their separate ways.
Mace smiled at Caleb, “He caught your eye?”
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Ezra felt good. He was happy, but knew it wasn’t over.
As he waited in the rest area, he meditated not having much else to do and finding that watching the others duel was making him anxious.
“Hey kid, what happens, happens. Just trust in the force and do your best.”
The words repeated themselves in his mind. What happens, happens.
He thought he would be content with the service corps. The boy knew he wasn’t the best fighter, but he still tried to have hope. He would be content in the service corps, he would be happy as a Padawan. Eventually his turn rolled around again. He hadn’t realized and had meant to watch whoever he would be fighting. Now his opponent had the upper hand. Running a hand through his dark hair, the initiates took their positions.
He looked at the boy across from him. With Grev, he was on friendly terms. Unfortunately, the boy across from him didn’t like Ezra. Ric was his name. Ezra didn’t know why the older boy disliked him, but Ric was a good 4 inches taller and 15 pounds heavier than Ezra. He knew he would have to use his smaller size to his advantage.
As soon as the match started their blades clashed. Ric pushed down, sliding his blade toward Ezra hilt. The smaller boy stepped back and crouched, forcing Ric off balance. He felt a tug in the force, rolling to the left to avoid a strike. Back on his feet, he tried to take advantage of the older boy's recovery time, only to be shocked when another blow came. Ezra blocked it, realizing Ric wasn’t planning on allowing Ezra to take the offensive. Ric tried swinging down, only for Ezra to block overhead. The younger boy was starting to panic, he had to get a swing in or he would run out of stamina before Ric did.
As Ric drew back, Ezra noticed he swung wide and tried to take advantage of it to get a hit in. However, Ezra underestimated how high the swing would be, and his world exploded into pain as the blade hit him hard on his ear. He felt his head jolt to the side, a jarring pain in his head as he went down. He lay for a second, hearing a murmur in the crowd and the moderator signal the match over with a whistle. Ezra’s gut was filled with dread. He had lost.
“Disqualification for Ric Foster, illegal hit.” The moderator called out.
Wait. Disqualification? Ezra felt a hand help him up. Vokara Che was there helping him off the field. He felt heat rise in his cheeks as embarrassment filled him. He didn’t lose but only by disqualification.
Once he was in the waiting room, Vokara Che asked him some questions and flashed a light in his eyes. She had him look different ways, but moving his head left or right ached. And he felt blood from where the saber hit his ear.
“Well,” she started disinfecting his cut, “It’s safe to say you have a mild case of whiplash. It will be fine in a few days, just avoid strenuous activity and slowly stretch your neck when you can.”
Ezra looked down, wincing, “Does this mean I can’t complete the tournament?”
“I’m afraid so. However, you showed great skill and sportsmanship in your first match, and proved you can hold your own against a bigger opponent in the second.”
Ezra nodded. Hopefully it will be enough to catch a Jedi Knight’s eye.
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The rest of the tournament went off smoothly, all the initiates performing well. Most viewers and participants had cleared out of the training room. A few lingered, talking about the duels. A few Jedi Knights clearly had their eyes on initiates to be Padawans.
“That was a good group of initiates.” Master Windu turned towards Caleb, before his comm beeped. “Duty calls. It was nice seeing you, don’t be a stranger Caleb.” Mace put a hand on his shoulder and left.
Caleb wondered why Yoda had insisted he be there. He started to head back to his quarters when he felt the force tug him towards the waiting room.
Huh.
He turned, heading in that direction. When he entered the room there were only two people inside. It was Ezra and Ric.
“Maybe if you were a better fighter and hadn’t folded like a piece of paper at the slightest tap, I wouldn’t have been disqualified.” Ric’s tone was harsh, especially for someone who had obviously used excessive force for his entire two matches.
“I don’t know what to tell you Ric, you know headshots are illegal. Maybe if you hadn’t tried to hit my head you wouldn’t have been disqualified.”
Caleb smiled, good for Ezra.
“It’s not my fault you’re so short and such a timid fighter. Who would want to be your master anyway? Nobody wants to train a nobody from a backwater planet that's too weak to take a hit.”
Clearly that was a sore spot. Ezra didn’t retort, just looked down shaking his head. Caleb felt his fear and trepidation through the force. He could feel Ezra’s self doubt and longing, but he also felt Ezra’s potential. His determination to learn and drive to succeed. The Jedi Knight realized he wanted Ezra to succeed too.
Oh.
That’s why Master Yoda wanted him to attend the tournament. Caleb felt all at once his own desire for this child in front of him to be the best he could be. He felt the urge to be the one to guide him to that point, to Knighthood.
“What, now you have nothing to say?” Ric practically spat at him.
Wow. Clearly there was a history that Caleb wasn’t privy to. Deciding he had had enough of Ric, Caleb cleared his throat. Both boys jumped, not knowing he had entered.
“Ric, I would like to speak to Ezra alone please,” his tone was not exactly friendly, but he had a hard time caring. As soon as Ric left the room Caleb sat down next to Ezra, suddenly nervous.
“How's your head feeling?”
“Good. Master Che says I have whiplash though.”
“Oh… I saw your duels. You were good. A little rough around the edges, but you’ll get there.”
Caleb saw Ezra’s shoulders drop, “Yeah, if I get the chance.” His voice was low and blue eyes were planted firmly on the ground. Caleb’s heart ached at his face, seeming as though he had already given up.
The Jedi Knight wished he weren’t so selfish. Another Master should be the one doing this, one more qualified. But when he thought of anyone else training the boy before him it felt… wrong. Ezra deserved someone better than Caleb. But he felt the force tug on him. Who was he to not trust in the force?
“That's actually what I want to talk to you about. Listen, Ezra, I know I’m not the best Jedi knight. I know I’m still new. But, if you would allow it, it would be my honor to take you as my padawan.”
Ezra gasped, looking up at him. The child's face was filled with shock, and a moment passed.
“If you want to wait for another Jedi to ask you or you need time to think about it, I understand. But, I will be here if you-”
“I- I think that would be good, Master Dume.” Ezra’s voice was filled with relief and gratitude.
Caleb put a firm hand on his shoulder, “In that case, rise Padawan Ezra Bridger.” The Jedi Knight felt the start of a bond between them, but he wasn’t sure Ezra knew that it had already begun to form. Ezra stood, looking up at Caleb's face, a slight smile on his lips. Caleb felt relief and joy through the force. He looked at the kid that was now his padawan and felt hope for the first time in a while. Hope for the future and for himself, and hope for the child that was looking at him with blue eyes.
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Caleb knocked on the door, opening it slowly.
“To what pleasure do I owe this visit, hmm? Yoda sat on the same cushion.
“Before, when you asked me to attend the tournament, you said you had a vision?” Caleb waited until the Master nodded, “What was it of?”
Yoda chuckled, “In it, you were. With a Padawan by your side.”