Chapter Eleven (Patreon)

It was rare for the junior initiates to go on field trips. In Ali’ya’s four years in the Initiate Dorms, there had been three trips, twice to museums on Coruscant and once to the Coruscant Public Library’s main building. She knew the senior initiates had more trips (and were said to visit the Senate Dome on one of them) but until they reached Padawan age it was rare for a Jedi Initiate to venture beyond Coruscant. That alone would have made Ali’ya suspect something was up when she and her age-mates in the Clan were led to the hangars. The System, of course, gave it away once she boarded the corvette.

Quest: The Gathering

Pass a Jedi Right of Passage by finding your kyber crystal on Illum

Rewards: 2,000 experience points, kyber crystal(s), become a Senior Initiate, early access to the Adolescent System (currently using the Childhood System)

Failure: -1,000 experience points, possible death, possible maiming, fail to become a Senior Initiate, prohibited from trying again for two years, Childhood System locked in until age 12.

Well, Ali’ya thought. Not like I have a lot riding on this then. She had known, in some small part of her mind, that not every initiate passed the Gathering. What happened to those who failed was never brought up in the media of her time. That death was possible shouldn’t have come as a shock given Ilum’s environment, but it certainly unsettled her.

Ali’ya had few friends in her Clan. Kazdan had been one, before he became a padawan. Mace and Kirana were both in different clans, and Mace was younger than her besides. While this could have made for a dull trip, it allowed Ali’ya the time she needed to center herself again. Had she been an actual child, meditation would likely have been impossible given her current state of mind. Fortunately, she had decades of experience calming down from a panic attack, even if she was stuck in a child’s body.

Ali’ya spent the first six days of their journey meditating, and trying to use her long years of past experience with radical acceptance. There was no way out of the Gathering, and even if there was she wouldn’t want to take it. She liked the people she had now, her friends and teachers. She liked the peace and calm and almost infinite knowledge that was the Jedi Temple. She liked Master Dooku and his harsh lessons, Master Bulq and his more gentle but equally practical ones. She knew both of them would Fall in the future, but she could see why it had been so devastating when they did. Dooku, for all his harshness, had an aura about him that screamed competence and capability. One couldn’t relax around him thanks to his attitude, but if he was present Ali’ya knew she was in good hands. And Master Bulq . . . He was wonderful. He listened when she talked about the Coruscanti depths, listened to her tearful retelling of her family’s murder. He paid attention when she spoke and, rather than reprimanding her for her emotions, helped her work through them. True, his method of working through emotions almost always involved the Force, but he was a Jedi and they worked, so she could forgive the religious bent.

With that knowledge in hand, Ali’ya began looking into lightsaber mechanics. It was a topic she’d studied only briefly before, seeing it as largely irrelevant. In retrospect, the idea that they would be warned in time to prepare for the Gathering should have been ludicrous. Initiate training was all about learning to trust the Force, something they were supposed to do with their weapons as well. Ali’ya thought that was silly. The Force would help, of course, but it was up to each person to decide the finicky details like metal plating or which power cell to use. Electronics were unnecessary to the Force, why would it care about anything beyond the hilt’s shape and the disposition of the kyber crystal? The kyber, of course, might well have opinions about proper construction, but wouldn’t it be best if Ali’ya had some knowledge to bring as well?

Fortunately, the ship was full of books, articles, and simulations about lightsaber construction. From the first force-imbued weapons to the most modern type of power cell, Ali’ya took full advantage of her Learning Prodigy trait and high Intellect score as she pushed herself to read as fast as she could while still understanding the words. Which meant one book per day. Two, if she was lucky.

To call lightsabers complicated was an insult to complication. They were beyond it, entire enigmas. They were a compilation of phenomena that defied all scientific logic. Calculations of power, length, width, and a variety of other key statistics included various “Kyber variables,” something that was entirely unmeasurable and depended not only on the Kyber but on the wielder. In short, one choosing to build a lightsaber--whether it was one with a natural crystal, a synthetic one, or one of the myriad exotic crystals around--would have to rely on the Force. One could assemble it on their own, but without clear communication with the semi-sentient crystals (or the pure force of will that was the Dark Side) the would-be objects were doomed to fail. Someone without the Force could, on rare occasion, learn to wield a lightsaber but no one but a Force-sensitive would ever be able to craft them. There was still a place for knowledge of mechanics in building a lightsaber--indeed, the blades that lasted longest and cut hottest were those designed by the technically capable and wielded by those strong in the Force--but it was not at the heart of the blade. The crystal was. Semi-sentient and powerful in the Force, it was kyber that dictated the reality of the blade. The Dark Side could force kyber into certain patterns, or through brute strength ensure a synthetic crystal had enough power. It was said to be one of the starting points of the First Schism, when a dark-oriented Je’daii first bled his crystal, which was then housed inside a metal blade.

So, while her knowledge of mechanics would be useful, it did not mean she could determine the design of her blade, only that she was able to give the kyber suggestions it might otherwise not think of. The crystal is the heart of the blade, she remembered. It was not only sentiment, it was fact.

Ilum was cold. Ali’ya had expected that, and dressed warmly. Despite her fur she’d worn an insulated jacket, fur-lined boots, and insulated trousers. It was still cold. Even with the hood up and the sunglasses on. The caves, at least, lacked the cutting winds of the surface. Though they did have an endless labyrinth where not even the Force could guide you out, so blinding were the lights of the endless kyber crystals.

Ali’ya did her best to follow the Force as it guided her down the icy paths. She ignored the calls of her clan-mates as they tried to stick together despite knowing they each had their own paths. It struck her that this was a rather cruel test for children. Ali’ya knew what she would be facing. Some sort of psychologically challenging--perhaps damaging--vision, the potential for death, and the potential of being kicked out of the order. She’d been damaged before, came close to death, and she had billions in credits and investments waiting for her if the Order decided she wasn’t up to snuff. She had lived a life, and was granted this second chance. The rest of them were kids. Literal children. They deserved better than to be sent out on a potentially lethal test. At the very least there should have been someone waiting nearby to rescue them if something happened, but instead they were to “Trust in the Force.”

The Jedi, Ali’ya thought. Are blinded.

“You would dare challenge the Jedi Order?”

Ali’ya’s head jerked up at the unexpected voice. It was deeper than hers, more mature. Towering over her at more than two meters, was an adult Togorian. The Togorian wore simple brown robes, plain in color and rough in texture. She held a large lightsaber hilt in her hand.

“The Order has its flaws,” Ali’ya said cautiously.

“The Order is perfect!” the Togorian snarled, stepping closer to her. “They are the Light in the Darkness, the hope of the galaxy! With the fall of the Order comes darkness everlasting! The rebellion succeeded, yet it failed to create a true state. Trillions died from the Yuuzon Vong! Only the Order, perfect and strong, can be trusted to stand against the apocalyptic invasion!”

Ali’ya took a desperate step back. “You-you’re me.”

“I’m what you will be,” the Togorian smiled. “What you should be. But if you will not heed the call of destiny, I will be forced to cut you down.”

Ali’ya did the only sensible thing. She turned and ran down the hall. The thudding footsteps of her future self disappeared slowly as she ran, her panting breath overtaking even the glittering sound of the kyber.

“Woah, easy there.” The voice was warm, gentle. Ali’ya couldn’t help but relax. “You had quite the fright. Did that mean Jedi scare you?”

Ali’ya nodded. “She--she said she’d kill me if I didn’t--” Ali’ya paused, looking up at the stranger. The not-stranger. They were another Togorian, tall as her future self. But unlike her future self the Togorian before her dressed well, in fluid robes of black and red silk. The only thing that stood out were the sickly yellow eyes.

“They’re all like that.” Now that she saw the eyes, she could hear the voice. The rasping death that scraped along the end. The malice that dripped, unbidden and unseen, from the tip of every word. “The Jedi are unfeeling fools. Unfitting to rule the galaxy. You have been given a second chance at life. Why not take it? Take it all. Take everything for your own, and rule over the galaxy! What are these creatures before you but playthings? Have you not been--”

“ENOUGH!” Ali’ya screamed, and the Force heeded her call. “I am not either of you! I refuse! I will not lose my feelings, nor my head! There is a way between, there must be!”

A lightsaber ignited behind her. Ali’ya turned sharply, eyes wide. “You will choose,” her Jedi self said. “The light--”

“Or the Dark,” her Sith self finished. His own blade lit, blood red contrasting with bright blue.

“There is no inbetween,” the two declared.

“Fuck the binary,” Ali’ya spat. “I will not chose.”

“Then you will die.”