Чарльз Соул: Star Wars: Light of the Jedi (The High Republic)

All around the chamber, many more people had gathered, the guides bringing their charges to the room as the tours ended for the primary event of the day. Mikkel Sutmani. Joss and Pikka Adren. Keven Tarr, Admiral Kronara, even Chief Innamin and Lieutenant Peeples. Jedi prodigy Vernestra Roh and her newly acquired Padawan, Imri Cantaros, just arrived from their own encounter with the Nihil at Wevo. Senators and ministers and presidents and more, people from stations low and high. Thousands of people had gone to extraordinary lengths to ensure this moment happened, and as many as possible were present today. Those who could not or chose not to attend were given access to a secure holochannel, to allow them to see and listen in real time.

Chancellor Soh reached the dais. Cam droids hovered, recording the moment. She spoke.

“You know I envision a galaxy of Great Works—connected and inspiring and filled with peace for all citizens. I believe this is possible, but not because of me, or any special ability of mine. I believe it is possible because of us . Because we can and will work together to achieve it. We are, every one of us, a great work. I see a galaxy where we use our strengths to shore up each other’s weaknesses, where we understand and celebrate our differences and hold them up as valuable. We are a Republic where every voice matters, whether in the Core or on the farthest planet at the edge of the Rim.”

She continued, addressing the sacrifices made to bring safety to the Outer Rim and allow the station to be completed. The deaths of Hedda Casset, Loden Greatstorm—Bell Zettifar blinked hard at this—Merven Getter, Vel Borta, Captain Finial Bright, and many more were acknowledged. A memorial was proposed, another Great Work, for all those killed in the Legacy Run disaster and the Emergences that followed. A multipiece sculpture, with works placed at the site of the Emergences in Hetzal, Eriadu, and Ab Dalis, containing the names of all who died.

Lina Soh spoke for precisely the right amount of time, and concluded with these words:

“This station will be a symbol of the Republic in the Outer Rim. A place where we will celebrate our union, and help each other to make it grow. It will send out a signal, for anyone in this sector to hear, at any time. The beacon. The Beacon of the Republic. The sound…”

Here she paused, and the cam droids captured sincere optimism on her face. This was not a politician. This was a woman who believed every word she was saying.

“…of hope.”

Across the atrium, against the stars, lightsabers ignited. Hundreds, in all the colors of the Jedi Order, a salute, held high.

In the space outside the station, anyone who looked would see a surging glow rush out from the beautiful, open space at its heart, pushing back the darkness.

The light of the Jedi.

The beacon activated, a signal, a sound, a chime, a tone that anyone with even the most rudimentary equipment could hear, for hundreds of parsecs around the station. Anyone who was lost, afraid, confused, hopeless…they could tune in. They could listen, and the sound would help them find their way.

The Starlight Beacon. The first of many.

All was well.

“This is abeautiful place,” Elzar Mann said.

Avar Kriss was at his side; they had left Stellan Gios behind at the dedication, deep in conversation with several Council members. Elzar and Avar walked along a path through one of the garden modules on the Starlight Beacon: a huge transparisteel bubble, through which a long spiraling walkway had been built. The base of the sphere was filled with the native soil of a world called Qualai, a small, low-gravity planet on the edge of the Outer Rim.

From that soil grew trees, tall and thin and elegant, reaching all the way from the module’s base to its top, some three hundred meters above. Descending from the bright-blue branches of those trees, a drapery of vines, rippling ribbons stretching from crown to ground. These were varied shades of red and orange, graceful gradients running their lengths. Air currents stirred the vines, so they washed gently back and forth, their fragrance like incense.

The spiral path let one walk through these vines as they swirled and parted, tiny insects and birds bright with bioluminescence flitting between like sparks, each tree its own ecosystem.

At the center of the garden, with space looming beyond the transparisteel, the effect was something like standing inside a campfire, looking out at the night.

“Yes, it is,” Avar said.

“And all ours,” Elzar said. “No one else seems to have found it yet.”

“It won’t last,” Avar said. “I’m sure people will leave the party and find their way here soon enough. Couples looking for quiet spots to be alone, probably.”

“Then let’s enjoy it while we’ve got it, eh?”

They kept ascending, the sound of the flame-ribbons washing through the chamber.

“Look at us, huh? Just a couple of Jedi Masters, taking a quiet moment together. Can you believe it? Sometimes I never thought it would happen.”

Avar smiled at him.

“I knew the Council would promote you eventually,” she said. “Was never a question.”

“Easy for you to say. You made Master a few years ago.”

“Hey, the Council knows talent when they see it. When will it happen?”

“Soon, probably. I’ll need to stand before the Council, back on Coruscant. It feels like a formality, really. I can’t imagine my life will change as much as it did at the last elevation.”

“True. The jump from Padawan to Jedi Knight…that’s where it all really sinks in. The choice of it…” Her voice trailed off.

Elzar suspected they were both thinking about the same thing. Shared moments as Padawans, tolerated and understood and even common—but things to be left behind once one ascended to become an adult in the Order.

They hadn’t discussed those moments, not in a very long time, and never with more than an oblique reference, but they were never very far away from the other’s mind, especially when they were together.

Those times, many years in the past, seemed very present just then.

Avar stopped. It took Elzar a step to realize she wasn’t keeping pace, and he turned to look back at her.

He raised an eyebrow.

She held out her hand.

He took it. Held it up, looked at it, then looked at Avar Kriss, his friend.

The look she gave him was like that sea he found inside himself, the Force, deep and endless and impossible to fully comprehend.

You could drown in it.

“We are Jedi,” he said.

“We are,” she replied.

She looked away, and let go of his hand, and he was no longer drowning, but perhaps some part of him wished he was.

They kept walking.

“They gave me the station,” Avar said.

“What?”

“I have command of the Jedi contingent on the Starlight Beacon. With Master Jora gone, they asked me to take over. I guess I impressed the Council after what happened in Hetzal, and everything after, and…”

“Yes. You are very impressive,” Elzar said, his voice soft.

A little higher on the path, walking through the flames.

“I have work on Coruscant,” Elzar said. “Research in the Archives…what we achieved in Hetzal has given me all sorts of ideas about new ways the light side might speak to us. I know the Council doesn’t always understand the things I try to do, but I’m a Master now. I feel like this is my chance to really demonstrate how useful I can be to the Order.”