milliways_bar | Millitimed to sometime after the thing with k_in

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Millitimed to sometime after the thing with k_in_black.

Ray comes in from New York City, rubbing at his face tiredly with one hand. He's got a sheaf of papers in one hand, and he looks as if he could use a drink; what the Bar gives him, however, is his usual green stuff and a plate of dinner. He nods and touches the bar briefly with his Visa card.

"Thank you, Bar, I appreciate it."

That having been done, he scoops up his receipt and goes looking for a place to sit.

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"Let go of the stick, Matilda," Ray says. "Just stop using the power on it."

The instant she does so, he brings up the 'sabre and slices the stick cleanly in half.

She blinks and has a good look at the 'sabre, then a good look at the fallen halves. Then she brings one back for inspection, tapping the cut part with her fingers thoughtfully.

"That's interesting. How do you make one of those?"

"First you have to design power cells that can run the 'sabre without being completely drained at the first go," Ray says, picking up a rock and tossing it in the air. "Then-"

He swings the blade. Two half-rocks hit the ground.

"-you have to design the power routings and couplings and focusers inside the weapon itself. And then you have to get all of the necessary crystals, most of which aren't available on Earth. I had to learn to grow photonic crystals molecule-by-molecule to make my first one, and that took months. After that- well, while you're learning to build one you need to learn how to move while you're using one, so that you don't accidentally forget that the blade is longer than it feels. It only weighs as much as a flashlight, after all. It's easy to cut off things like arms or legs if you don't watch out."

She drops the branch and fetches a half-rock for examination.

"Hmm. It would take more knowledge of building things than I have at the moment." It has never been clearer that she intends to gain more knowledge rapidly. "But it shouldn't be difficult. You grew your own crystals, you say? What differentiates the sort you grew from any other sort?" Her brain is whizzing along madly in true Matilda fashion. "And would perhaps the sort of power cells you have for the PKE meter, the ones I'm not allowed to make on account of their being radioactive, work well?"

"As I said, they're photonic- periodic dielectric or metallo-dielectric nanostructures designed to affect the propagation of electromagnetic waves in the same way as the periodic potential in a semiconductor crystal affects the electron motion by defining allowed and forbidden electronic energy bands. An opal would be an example of a natural photonic crystal, but the crystals I make are a lot more complicated and sophisticated than anything Earth ever produced naturally. They route and focus the energy themselves and block out the undesirable or unneeded wavelengths so that the blade ultimately terminates naturally, instead of extending forever the way a natural, unattentuated light ray would."

He shakes his head. "The power cells that I would suggest as a substitute for the radioactive ones would be suitable. The deuterium ones just don't have enough energy in them to run this. That's how much of an energy drain it is."

"Well then. I'm sure I saw a few books on advanced physics in the Milliways library that could get me started on understanding exactly how such a crystal would need to be shaped, and with a powerful enough microscope and the right raw materials I could certainly make one."

"That's good. I won't even have to handle radioactive substances."

She notices that he seems perfectly all right with the idea of her making her own lightsabre now - either that or too dense to realize that she's going to, but she'd bet all the money she doesn't have on the former.

Ray nods. "The initial outlay's going to be expensive," he warns. "But once you've gotten good at photonic crystals you should be able to synthesize gem-grade opals, and if you can figure out how to sell those, you should make back your investment in no time. If you're serious about going through with this, though, I really do have to ask you to talk to a Master first. I'm only a Knight, not a full Master."

"Well. I shouldn't have any trouble with the building, then."

"You mean you aren't allowed to go out and find new students? Pity. You seem like you'd be very good at it."

There is definitely more going on in Matilda's brain than there is coming out of her mouth. For one thing, she doubts her ability to find a Jedi Master, and for another, she isn't about to let herself be impeded if for some reason she does find one and he or she doesn't let her study as a Jedi.

"Well, I'm allowed," Ray says, "but only in my own world. I've apprenticed my nephews back there, so that's all right, but around here- not so much. I'll send Master Qui-Gon after you, though. He'll be able to help you way better than I could." Pause. "He's dead, by the way. Is that a problem? Some people are a little weird about that."

"That's more than curious. Why make a distinction between people here and people where you come from? Thanks for sending me Master Qui-Gon, then. I'll be sure to speak with him when the opportunity presents itself."

"Dead? No, not a problem. So long as he's walking around and his bits aren't falling off, because falling-off bits are icky."

"It's a jurisdiction thing," Ray says. "I'm the only Jedi in the world, where I come from. That makes me my world's Master and Founder by default, even if I haven't got the Force and all the other things Jedi Masters know and do. Around here we've got Masters and Knights enough to make up a minor Council, and that means that the senior Masters make the rules."

He shakes his head. "Nah, he's the healthy kind of dead. You wouldn't even know he was dead to look at him. he's a little taller than I am, has light brown hair and a beard, and dresses in brown robes. Sounds a little bit English, in fact, even though he's not from Earth's galaxy."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose the system must work. It exists, after all." A dubious tone is clear in her voice; people making rules have not, in her experience, made them well or sensibly. All those laws about having to be sixteen before you do such-and-such, for example.

"Well, that's all right then. Being dead is a silly thing to worry about if it doesn't affect someone at all, now isn't it?"

"It worked pretty well in Master Qui-Gon's galaxy for a few thousand years and a couple of hundred different species," Ray says. "I'm not going to argue with it too much. Then again, like I said, I'm the only Jedi on my world. It makes a bit of a difference."

He smiles. "Yeah, I know. He does just fine,f rom what I can tell."

"A few thousand years?" The dubiousness retreats a little. "That's fairly impressive."

"Oh yeah," Ray says. "One of the Jedi masters of Qui-Gon's time- Yoda- was nine hundred years old by the time he eventually died. And he'd trained Jedi for eight hundred of those years. Master Yoda wasn't human, by the way," Ray adds. "His species lives longer."

"That's interesting." Like 'that shouldn't be difficult', this is a phrase she should probably trademark, on account of using it so often.
"So since there aren't any Jedi where I come from, if I became one, I'd be able to take students from my world but not ones from around here?"

"It's very possible, yeah," Ray says. "Of course, it all depends on how many people would be willing to have such a young instructor, but it's possible."

"I'd want to at least wait until I graduated university before taking on students of any kind. Then again, is an eleven- or ten-year-old instructor any easier to deal with than a six-year-old?"

"You'd be surprised," Ray says. "Still- we'll see what happens. And you definitely need to talk to Master Qui-Gon."

The prospect of directing her to any other Jedi master doesn't even enter his head. Master Windu and Ray simply don't click, and as for Master Dooku- well. Not gonna happen.

"I'll do that. You said you'd send him to me? Hmm - these days I'm up in my room a lot; it has the perfect reading desk. But it hasn't got a number and I suspect it moves around..."

"It moves around?" Ray asks curiously. "Okay, that's new. How do you find it, then?"

"My key has a little tag that gives me directions." She fishes it out of a pocket to show to him. Inscribed on the tag in tiny, impatient-looking handwriting is the message: 'Go back inside, you dolt.'
"It changes depending on where I am and how close I am and whether or not I've just done something silly like walk too far down the hall and miss the door."

Ray peers at the tag, and laughs. "Okay," he says. "That's interesting. Master Qui-Gon would probably have to use the Force to find you, but I don't know if he can do that without having met you first."

"I could ask the Bar for another tag like this one, and you could give it to him."

"If it'd do that," Ray says, "that would be a splendid idea. Thank you, Matilda."

Millitimed to sometime after the thing with k_in_black.

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