There was no particular pattern for where the crystals might be found. There were some planets that hosted them in countless numbers, and those places were often considered holy or special. Pilgrimages were made and lessons learned and lightsabers crafted. And thus the light crystals went about the galaxy to be put to use.
Dark crystals were made, too, but not in that holy place. They were plundered from their rightful bearers and corrupted by the hands that stole them. Even rock could be changed by the power of the Force, bleeding alterations until their color was the deepest red. The balance was finely staged between the two, light and dark, and it took very little to upset it.
When the first ships appeared in the sky over a planet where the crystals grew in number, nothing seemed amiss. Ships visited the planet all the time, and crystals were taken away, but this occasion was different. There were no young bearers to hear the songs, no attentive students to learn the lessons. There was only greed and a terrible, terrible want.
The planet was ravaged, its crystals broken by uncaring hands who thought to twist them to their own uses. No more could the planet be considered a holy place, and no longer would pilgrimages be made. Instead, those who had once gone there would avoid it and despair for the loss of the crystals that once sang to them.
But in the wideness of the galaxy, there were many planets and many places where the crystals could appear. They would be harder to find, their concentration lower, but it would not be impossible for one who sought, for one who listened — for one who had learned the first lessons and had the patience to learn more.
The crystals grew, adding structure in an ordered way, one prism at a time.
And while they grew, they waited.
Chapter 26
BAIL OFFERED HER A SHIP, but Ahsoka turned him down. Everything in his manifest was new: sleek, fast, very obviously built on a Core world. Ahsoka elected to keep her own craft. She knew its foibles, for one thing, and she also knew it would stick out less on an Outer Rim world than any of the fancy ships in Bail’s collection. She did let Antilles’s crew fix the engine damage, though. Well, she let R2-D2 do it while she supervised.
While the droid worked, Ahsoka took the opportunity to examine Bail’s operation. He’d said that not everyone on board was fully aware of what he was attempting to organize, but it seemed like everyone at least knew that what they were doing wasn’t entirely Empire business. She could tell from the conversations she overheard that the crew was loyal to Alderaan and to Breha and Bail themselves, which was a good start. Bail’s work was slow, as he’d said, but his foundation was strong. Of course, it helped that he had more resources than she’d had on Raada and that the people he was working with were already trained to fight and follow orders.
Sitting in the hangar bay, with R2-D2 by her side, Ahsoka began to realize that what she had accomplished on Raada was more of an achievement than she’d thought. It wasn’t like Onderon, where she’d had time and, most important, Rex to help her. She hadn’t failed on Raada, even though her people had suffered casualties. She had learned a new way to fight, too, and she needed to have as much patience with herself as she did with the people she fought alongside.
R2-D2 beeped a question at her, and Ahsoka examined his work, even though she had a feeling they both knew he didn’t require a second opinion.
“It looks great, Artoo,” she said. “I’ve missed having you around for exactly this kind of thing.”
The droid chirruped happily and made a few last adjustments to the engine. It hummed to life, and Ahsoka jumped to her feet.
“Thanks, little guy,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s ever sounded so good.”
R2-D2 made a smug sound, set the tools back in the crate, and rolled off without making any further comment. He passed Bail, who was walking in Ahsoka’s direction. The senator was off that day, as well, on a mission no less dangerous than hers. He was headed back to Coruscant to play Imperial puppet in the Senate, and he was dressed for the part.
“Are you sure you don’t want backup?” he said. “I’m sure Chardri and Tamsin don’t hold a grudge, and they’re good in tight spaces. Well, they are when they know what they’re up against.”
Ahsoka smiled as the test cycle of her engine spun down. She’d be able to leave soon.
“No, thank you,” she said. “It’ll be easier on my own.”
“Is it some mysterious Jedi thing?” Bail asked. He hadn’t pried the previous day when she had left out a few key details, but now that they were sure not to be overheard, she supposed he had a right to know the risk he was taking.
“No,” she said. “It’s just difficult to explain. I might not have a lot of time and might have to make decisions quickly that don’t make sense to outsiders. It’s nothing personal, I promise.”
“That’s all right,” Bail said. “I’ve worked with enough Jedi over the years to know when to let them go their own way.”
“I’m not really a Jedi, you know,” she said. They hadn’t talked about it before, but again, now that they were alone, it was only fair to let him know that his investment might not get the return he was counting on. “I left the Temple, turned away from the Jedi path.”
“If you’re not a Jedi, then what are you, Ahsoka Tano?” Bail asked. “Because to be honest, you still sound and act like a Jedi to me.”
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out,” she said. She patted the engine pod. “Thanks for loaning me Artoo for the repair. The engine is perfect.”
“Anytime,” Bail said, and smiled. “I should get going. But we’ll be there when you signal for us.”
“I’ll see you then,” Ahsoka said, and watched him walk to his own shuttle.
Once the senator was gone, Ahsoka made a few last modifications to her ship and started her preflight checks. She’d had to make quick decisions the previous day, and she wanted to be sure that she hadn’t put stress on anything besides the engines. She had time and security to do it now, and even though waiting galled her, she knew it would pay off.
She hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep at all the night before, the image of Kaeden with the lightsaber to her throat burned into her memory, but she’d been so exhausted that she’d dropped off almost as soon as she’d stopped moving. When she woke up several hours later, she’d felt much better and then instantly worse: Kaeden probably hadn’t slept very well, whatever time it was on Raada.
She forced herself to clear her mind of worries. It wasn’t easy, but she knew she would do her friends no good if she let emotion cloud her judgment. She might not be a Jedi, but she needed to act like one for a little bit longer. She knew how it worked, anyway: clear your mind and see the goal. She was determined to do that for the sake of her friends.
The preflight check ended, signaling that nothing new had been detected. She stowed her gear — the bastons, her carry bag, a few useful things that Bail had given her — but kept the pouch with the hilts on her. It was bulky now, but she was reluctant to store it anywhere else.
She asked for clearance to depart and received it, along with the deck officer’s wish of good luck. She took the ship out of the hangar and then ran her calculations for the hyperdrive.
When that was ready, Ahsoka placed both hands on the controls, looked through the front viewport, and made the jump to lightspeed.
Ilum was a world of ice. Stark, cold, and beautiful as long as you didn’t have to spend too much time outside. It had been a holy place for the Jedi. Ahsoka had been there three times, once for each of her own crystals and once with a group of younglings. The first two times had been unremarkable, except for her excitement over having the tools with which to build her lightsabers. The third time had been more of an adventure, complete with pirates. Ahsoka was very much hoping this visit would be a quiet one.