Kael awoke to the same sterile room, the same distant hum of the Executor's engines vibrating through the walls. But today, something was different. There was a subtle shift in the air, a tension that he could feel even in his still slumber. The Force was growing stronger within him, and each day it seemed to resonate more deeply.
As he stretched and got up from his cot, he took a moment to look at himself in the small reflective panel on the wall. His face still had the softness of a child, but there was a fierceness in his brown eyes now—a hunger that hadn't been there when he first arrived. His black hair was still messy, and his body still felt too small for his growing mind, but Kael knew one thing for sure: he was changing.
Training had become the focus of his existence, the single constant in his days aboard the Executor. As soon as Kael entered the training chamber, he saw Vader standing at the center, as usual. The Sith Lord's presence was commanding, suffocating in its intensity. The dark side of the Force seemed to pulse from him like a physical force, surrounding Kael.
Vader didn't speak right away. Instead, he raised his hand, signaling for the remote to activate. It hummed to life and floated in front of Kael. This was a new challenge—no longer was he just avoiding blaster bolts. Now, he would be tested with something greater.
The remote fired, and Kael immediately reached out with his mind, his senses extending outward. He had to control the bolt this time—not just slow it or redirect it. He had to master it.
The red plasma streaked toward him with blinding speed, but this time, Kael was ready. His heart beat quickly, his breath shallow as he stretched his focus. The Force surged within him, and he could feel it—like a current of power running through him. It felt alive, as though the Force itself was eager to be used.
He extended his hand, but not to stop the bolt. Instead, he reached for it, using his mind to bend its trajectory. The bolt wavered in the air, moving slightly off course. The energy rippled around him, the air crackling with tension. Kael's eyes narrowed in concentration.
For a brief moment, the bolt hovered mid-air, suspended by Kael's will. His heartbeat quickened. He was doing it. He was controlling it. The power of the Force felt almost overwhelming, and for the first time, he felt like he had a real connection to it. He wasn't just an apprentice learning to react anymore; he was starting to shape it, to understand it on a deeper level.
But then, just as quickly, the bolt broke free from his grasp. It veered off and hit the floor with a spark, but Kael didn't move to avoid it. Instead, he stood tall, his chest heaving with the effort, and his mind still alive with the remnants of the Force.
Vader's voice cut through the silence. "You faltered again, Kael. The Force is not a tool to be wielded in such a manner. You must let go of your desire to control it. It is a part of you, not a weapon."
Kael clenched his fists, frustrated. He had felt it, felt the control in his hands. Why couldn't he hold it?
Vader stepped closer, his heavy footsteps echoing in the silence. "The Force is not something you can dominate, Kael. It is a living, breathing energy. You must learn to yield to it, to guide it, not force it into submission."
Kael nodded, though the words felt like a heavy weight on his mind. He knew Vader was right. Every time he tried to force the Force into a shape he desired, it slipped through his fingers. He had to learn to trust it—to let it flow freely, as Vader had said.
Later that evening, as Kael lay on his cot, his mind buzzed with the day's training. He could still feel the aftereffects of the Force's power coursing through him. The raw energy, the connection—it was intoxicating. But it was also difficult to control, frustrating, like trying to grasp a flame without burning yourself.
He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he would ever truly master the Force, if he would ever be able to fully understand the power that pulsed inside him.
In the silence of his room, Kael reflected on the lessons Vader had given him—lessons about surrendering, about trust. He had to learn to let go of his desire to control everything. The Force was not a thing to be bent to his will. It was a force of nature, like wind or fire, unpredictable and uncontrollable, but also beautiful in its simplicity.
The next morning, when Kael entered the training chamber, he didn't immediately step into position. He stood still for a moment, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He reached out with his mind, sensing the presence of the Force around him, listening to its quiet hum.
For the first time, he tried not to focus on controlling the outcome. He focused on feeling the Force—letting it move through him, letting it guide him. It wasn't about forcing it, he realized. It was about listening to it, responding to it.
The remote fired once again, and this time, Kael didn't try to force the bolt into submission. He didn't try to make it do what he wanted. Instead, he let it come to him, feeling the energy of the bolt as it rushed toward him. He extended his hand not to stop it, but to gently guide it.
And as the bolt neared him, it slowed—just enough for Kael to step aside without having to dodge. It passed him, harmlessly striking the wall behind him. The sparks were faint, but Kael could feel the hum of the energy still lingering in the air.
Vader's voice came from behind him. "You are beginning to understand. But this is just the beginning. There is much more you must learn."
Kael didn't respond. He simply nodded, his heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. He had done it. He had felt the Force flow through him in a way he hadn't before.
Later that night, Kael lay awake, his mind still restless. He had succeeded today, but it had come at the cost of his earlier frustration. Letting go of control had been harder than he thought. But the taste of success—of truly feeling the Force—was enough to keep him going.
Kael closed his eyes, focusing on the steady pulse of the Force within him. It was becoming more and more a part of him, like an extension of his own will. In time, he knew, he would master it—he would wield it as effortlessly as breathing.
But for now, he let the silence of the Executor cradle him to sleep, knowing that his journey had just begun.