The blade of the lightsaber hissed through the air. Obi-Wan Kenobi could not see its red gleam through the blindfold pressing on his eyes. He used the Force to know precisely when to duck.

The searing heat of his opponent’s lightsaber blade slashed overhead, nearly burning him. The air smelled like lightening.

“Good!” Yoda called from the sidelines of the room. “Let go. Let your feelings guide you.”

The words of encouragement spurred Obi-Wan on. Because he was tall and strong for a twelve-year-old, many assumed that he’d have the advantage in battle.

But strength and size counted for nothing where agility and speed were needed. Nor did they have any effect on the Force that he had not yet mastered.

Obi-Wan listened intently for the sound of his foe’s lightsaber, for his breathing, for the scrape of a shoe against the floor. Such sounds echoed loudly in the small, high-ceilinged chamber.

A random jumble of blocks on the floor added another element to the exercise. He had to use the Force the sense those, too. With such uneven ground, it was easy to lose his footing.

Behind Obi-Wan, Yoda warned, “Keep your guard up.”

Obi-Wan obediently raised his weapon and rolled to his right as his opponent’s blade slammed down into the floor beside him. He took a small leap back, clearing a pile of blocks. Obi-Wan heard the sing of the lightsaber as his foe attempted a hasty strike motivated by irritation and fatigue. Good.

Seat trickled underneath the blindfold, making his eyes sting. Obi-Wan blocked it out, along with his please at his opponent’s clumsiness. He could imagine himself a full Jedi Knight, battling a space pirate… a Togorian with fangs as long as Obi-Wan’s fingers. In his mind, Obi-Wan saw the armored creature glare at him through eyes that were mere green slits. Its claws could easily shred a human.