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Ezra walked his kyber crystal back and forth across his knuckles. It caught the light and sent rainbows scattering across the galley. A rock shouldn’t feel much of anything, but this one felt almost eager. Ezra flipped the crystal up in the air and caught it mid-fall. Yeah, his kyber crystal was pretty neat. He’d be happier with it if he hadn’t had to face his worst fears and watch Kanan die, but no one could say he hadn’t earned it.
Ezra studied his crystal with narrowed eyes. “You had better be worth it.”
“It will be,” Kanan said, plunking a mug of caf down in front of Ezra before sliding into a seat with a mug of his own. “Once you make your lightsaber.”
“Yeah,” Ezra drawled, “about that. How do we turn this—” he held up the crystal “—into that?” He pointed to where Kanan’s lightsaber lay on the table between them.
Kanan chuckled and sipped his caf. “There is no ‘we’ in this situation. I show you how it’s done and then you build your lightsaber.”
“But—but,” Ezra sputtered. That’s what Kanan had said about the Temple and look how that turned out. Just thinking about it made his chest hurt.
“Ezra, relax,” Kanan said gently. “You wouldn’t have that crystal if the Force didn’t think you were ready for it. You’re smart, you’re capable, and I’ll be here to help you however you need.” He smiled. “Trust me kid, you’ve got this.”
“Okay, okay.” Ezra closed his eyes and breathed in-two-three-four and out-two-three-four just liked Kanan had taught him. The tightness in his chest loosened. “I’ve got this,” he told himself and opened his eyes. “Show me.”
Kanan nodded and set his caf aside. “Each lightsaber is as unique as the Jedi who wields it, but the underlying structure is basically the same.”
He closed his eyes and reached for his lightsaber in the Force. It rose to float between them. Kanan frowned slightly in concentration as he separated the emitter shroud from the main hilt with a familiar click. The outer casing slid back to reveal the inner workings.
“Whoa,” Ezra gasped.
His eyes were drawn to the sky-blue kyber crystal at the heart of it, but there was so much more to the saber than that. He recognized a diatium power cell. And an energy gate, maybe? There was some kind of wiring harness, a bunch of metal bits, and stuff. Lots and lots of little, complicated stuff. Kanan was going to explain it all, right? Right?
Kanan lowered the whole thing to the table and reached again for his caf. “Go ahead. Take a look and tell me what you see.”
Ezra reached for the crystal. He closed his eyes as he curled his fingers around it. “It feels…different.”
Kanan nodded. “It came from the temple on Ilum.”
That might account for the difference in color, but it didn’t sit right somehow. “There’s more to it than that,” Ezra said. He closed his eyes and sunk deeper into the Force to figure it out.
If his crystal felt excited, then Kanan’s felt calmer. Settled. A little amused, maybe. Almost paternal. Ezra’s eyes snapped open.
“It feels like you!”
“Does it? Hmm.” Kanan rubbed his chin, considering. “The caves on Ilum were filled with crystals,” he said in that wistful tone he sometimes got when talking about the Jedi. “Half the test was finding the one that resonated with you.”
Ezra leaned forward, waiting eagerly for more about Ilum, the test, any of it. Kanan was always happy to share Jedi wisdom, but he hardly ever talked about what they had been like. Not that Ezra blamed him. It wasn’t like Ezra was itching to talk about his parents. Sometimes it just hurt too much.
“Got your datapad ready?” Kanan asked instead as he set aside his empty mug. “Let’s get started,” he said and began to explain what each part was, what it was for, and if it was optional. It was a good thing Ezra was taking notes because he never would be able remember it all without them.
“I have a couple of spare parts you can have,” Kanan said when they were done, “but you’re going to have to scrounge for the rest.”
“Story of my life,” Ezra said with a laugh.
Kanan smiled at that. “The Jedi used to say, ‘this weapon is your life.’”
“Is it?”
Kanan hesitated, then shrugged. “The Jedi had a lot of sayings, some of which could have been phrased better,” he said with a little laugh. “A faulty lightsaber can cost your life, but if you’re living for a weapon, you’re doing it wrong.”
He reached for the Force and pulled his lightsaber back together. He snatched it from the air and held it out towards Ezra. “This weapon isn’t your life, but it is an extension of you. It fights what you fight and protects what you protect. Figure out who you are, what you’re fighting for, and how you want to do it, and you’ll know exactly how to build your saber.”
Ezra lay in his bunk and thought about his lightsaber. It was like having a word caught on the tip of his tongue. One moment he could practically feel the hilt in his hand, and the next it was like grasping at fog. Ezra knew what he was fighting, so why couldn’t he see how? Every time he pictured himself going up against the Inquisitor, all he could see was him knocking Kanan’s lightsaber out of Ezra’s hands. He groaned aloud in frustration.
“Hey!” Zeb banged on the underside of the bunk. “What are you doing up there?”
Ezra groaned again and rolled over to bury his face in his pillow. “Leave me alone. I’m meditating.”
Zeb snorted. “Meditating? Oh, is that what we’re calling it now? Fine,” he said with a dramatic sigh, and rolled off his own bunk. He grabbed his bo-rifle and headed for the door. “Just don’t get any of your ‘meditation’ on my stuff.”
It took a few seconds for Ezra to catch on. Embarrassment exploded across his face like a time-delayed bomb. “No! I’m not—” Ezra scrambled to get down from his bunk and away from the very idea of this conversation. “I’m just—I’m trying to figure out my lightsaber.”
“Figuring out your lightsaber,” Zeb said in a strained voice, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “Come on, kid. It’s not that hard.”
Ezra’s cheeks burned. What good was having the Force if he couldn’t use it to make the floor just open up and swallow him? Or better yet, Zeb. Why couldn’t the floor swallow Zeb? “Not my—” He gestured vaguely towards his crotch. “My actual lightsaber.”
Zeb’s lips twitched and then, because he was a giant, overgrown six-year-old, he burst out laughing. He bent double, clutching his sides and gasping like Ezra not ‘meditating on his lightsaber’ was the funniest thing in the galaxy. Why couldn’t Chopper be his roommate? Even that would be better than this. It was enough to make Ezra want to go back to his com tower. It had been painfully lonely, but at least he could meditate in peace.
“It’s not funny!” Ezra punched him in the shoulder. “I’m serious!”
It took him an obnoxiously long time, but Zeb finally managed to pull himself together. “Sorry, sorry,” he gasped, leaning against the wall as he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “I don’t get it. Your saber’s gonna be just like Kanan’s, right?”
“Maybe. No.” Ezra had certainly thought about it. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
There were a lot of advantages to a lightsaber that didn’t always look like a lightsaber in their line of work. It was just that Kanan said he needed to know who he was, and Ezra did. He was a loth-rat and a Jedi and a rebel. A saber that broke apart to hide seemed more like an or.
“Huh.” Zeb scratched his beard, considering. “Going with a double-bladed spinny one like the Inquisitor then?”
“Ugh.” Ezra made a face. “No.” Anything like the Inquisitor was the last thing he wanted to be. “I need something different. Something amazing. Something no one will expect.”
“Sounds like what you need is a bo-rifle,” Zeb said, hefting his own. “No one will expect that,” he added with a chuckle.
“That—” actually wasn’t a terrible idea. A lightsaber with a blade and a blaster. That way he could fight up close and far away without having to switch weapons like Kanan.
“Zeb, you’re a genius!” Ezra hit him with a lightning hug and darted for the door. If he was adding a blaster to his saber, he was going to need a lot of extra parts. Good thing he knew just where to find them.
“Hey, where are you going?” Zeb called out after him. “How was that a good idea?”
Ezra rummaged through the starboard storage locker looking for lightsaber parts. It was amazing just how much Hera had managed to cram in there on a series of densely-packed, unlabeled trays. They were so tightly packed it was almost impossible to tell what anything was. He pulled the first tray and dumped it on the floor. Little bolts and screws went rolling everywhere as he pawed through the resulting mess. Looked like droid parts. Well, okay then. Ezra pulled the next tray and tried again.
Someone pointedly cleared their throat behind him as he was grabbing tray number three, making him yelp and slam his head into the underside of the locker’s lid. Chopper tittered with malicious glee and Ezra had the sinking feeling he was about to be in some serious poodoo. He turned slowly to find Hera standing with Chopper crouched at her heels and a face like a thundercloud. Oh, he was definitely gonna get it, and it was almost certainly Chopper’s fault. Stupid tattle-tale rust bucket. He just loved making Ezra suffer.
“Hey, Hera,” Ezra said, smiling sheepishly. He tried for his best innocent bystander look like he had no idea where the mess could have come from.
Hera wasn’t buying it. She folded her arms and gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “Just what do you think you’re doing? Aren’t you supposed to be working on your lightsaber?”
“I am. Working on it, I mean.” He gestured to the jumble of junk on the floor. “I’m looking for parts.”
Hera raised her eyebrow as she surveyed the mess of droid and gunnery parts scattered across the corridor. “I see. And it never occurred to you to ask for help,” she said in that too-calm voice Ezra had learned to fear. She wasn’t mad, she was just disappointed and somehow that was worse.
“Ah, no.” Ezra rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry.” Lothal under the Empire hadn’t exactly been a generous place. After his parents’ arrest, it had only taken him a few months of suspicious looks and closed doors before he figured out he couldn’t count on anyone but himself. “Guess it’s been awhile since I had anyone to ask.”
Hera’s expression softened. “You know you can always count on us.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, what do you need?”
“Here.” Ezra grabbed his data pad off the floor and pulled up his notes. “I’ve got a list. I marked everything I already have,” he said, handing it over.
He had maybe half a lightsaber at this point. Kanan had given him a power crystal and an emitter matrix. Ezra had managed to scavenge some wiring and buttons from his old com tower and found the perfect casing at his parents’ house. He’d cannibalized his academy-issued blaster too. It had felt appropriate, or maybe just really ironic.
Hera drummed her fingers on the pad as she studied the list. “I think I have some of this.” She looked up sharply. “Have you checked with Sabine?”
Ezra shook his head. He hadn’t checked with anyone.
“You should. She’s probably got some of this in her bomb stash. In the meantime, I know Chopper has a power cell you can have.”
::What?!!:: Chopper recoiled, throwing his manipulators in the air in horror at Hera’s sudden betrayal.
Ezra smirked. Chopper thought he could get Ezra in trouble? Ha! Served him right.
::No I don’t.:: Chopper frantically shook his head.
Hera glared at the droid. “Yeah, Chop, you do,” she said in a tone which brooked no argument.
Chopper looked from Hera to Ezra and back again. ::Fine,:: he grumbled and shot off down the corridor.
“You better be getting that power cell,” Hera called after him.
The droid flipped her a careless salute and kept on going. Ezra narrowed his eyes at the retreating figure. Chopper knew better than to cross Hera, but there was still a good chance the power cell might explode the first time Ezra tried to use it.
Hera turned back to him. “Alright,” she said, tucking the data pad into the front over her coveralls. “Give me a few hours to see what I can pull together.”
“Thanks, Hera.” He gave her a quick hug. “You’re the best.”
She flashed him a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile before her expression turned serious. “And while I do that, you’re going to pick up every. Single. Piece,” she said, poking his chest for emphasis. “I want those trays back exactly like you found them.”
“Right! Right!” Ezra dropped to his knees as Hera walked off and scrambled to gather up all the scattered bits. Karabast! And just when he thought he was in the clear. It was going to take hours to set everything back to rights, but, he probably would have had to do it anyway. At least this way he was getting some parts out of it. And, more importantly, Chopper wasn’t here to see it.
Paint fumes wafted out of Sabine’s open door like an invitation. Ezra ran a nervous hand through his hair. He could do this, he reminded himself. Just because she’d shot him down every time he tried to flirt with her didn’t mean she wouldn’t help him with this. He straightened his jacket and charged into the breach.
“Hey, Sabine,” he said, leaning casually against the door jam and pouring on the charm.
Sabine just sighed. “What do you want, Ezra?” she asked without bothering to turn around or even pause her painting.
“Ah, yeah.” Ezra rubbed the back of his neck. “Hera said you might help me with parts for my lightsaber?”
She lowered her paint sprayer with a put-upon sigh. “What do you need?”
He straightened from his casual slouch. “A modulator and an energy gate.”
“Yeah, I have those.” Sabine hummed and tapped her chin. “Now where did I put them?” she asked herself as she considered her supplies. There were certainly a lot of places to look between the three crates stacked in the corner and the four piled on the top bunk. She hauled down one of the latter and knelt to paw through it.
Just like that, it was like Ezra wasn’t even there. He stood in the center of the room, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He should say something, but what? He turned to study her painting for lack of anything better to do. It was a bird? Or a nebula? Or possibly a bird made out of a nebula? It was all abstract and pretty hard to tell.
It was a good conversation starter either way. “I like it,” Ezra said. “It’s really—” he paused, searching for a word that would make him sound smart and sophisticated “—pretty,” he finished lamely and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Why was it so hard to talk to her just because she was pretty and awesome and could probably kill him with her little finger? Kanan said he was trying too hard, but Ezra just really needed her to like him.
He could practically hear her eyes rolling. “Thanks,” Sabine said dryly. She fished a modulator out of the crate and set it on her bed. She hefted the box back into its place and grabbed its neighbor. “You need many more parts?” she asked as she resumed her search.
Ezra shook his head. “This is the last of it.”
“You pick a color yet?”
He hadn’t even thought about it. “I’m not sure I can.” Given the choice, he’d rather have blue than red, but he wasn’t sure he even had a choice. “Pretty sure it’s the same color as the focusing crystal.” At least, Kanan’s was the same color of blue as his crystal.
Ezra fished his crystal out of his pocket and held it out to Sabine. It had looked sort of bluish back at the temple, but was more or less clear out in the real world.
She studied it with a tilted head. “So white then?” she asked, sounding a little disappointed.
“Maybe,” Ezra said with a mischievous smile. “Or maybe—” He tilted the crystal until it caught the light and sent rainbows dancing across the room.
“Whoa,” Sabine said with a laugh. “Now that’s my kind of lightsaber.”
She pulled an energy gate out of the crate and scooped the modulator off the bed. “Here.” She pressed them into his hands and turned back to her paint sprayers before Ezra could get a word in edgewise. But that was alright. He leaned back against the doorframe to watch her work. She hadn’t thrown him out, and that was definitely a step up.
Ezra spread his assembled parts out on the floor. It looked like a pile of junk, and it kind of was. Kanan hadn’t told him much about where the Jedi had gotten their parts, but he was willing to bet the process had been nothing like his. He’d pulled together bits from his old life and his new. It represented everything he was fighting for and a few things he was fighting against. His lightsaber wasn’t his life except it kind of was. He couldn’t wait to show them.