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He’d wanted to leave Jedha.
It had been so long since he’d last set foot anywhere other than the cold and holy moon.
He used to lie awake at night, staring off into the secretive depths of space, dreaming of breaking out on some grand adventure through the stars. Sometimes he would become a masked vigilante, fighting crime on Chandrila or Hosnian Prime. Sometimes he would be a beast wrangler and trek through the forgotten planets of the Outer Rim for a new mark to tame. Other times, he would dream up a quiet existence on some backwater world out of the way of the craziness of the rest of the galaxy.
Eventually, he’d found purpose with the Whills, and Jedha suddenly became the only place in the galaxy he wanted to be.
Then that was all ripped right from his grasp.
He’d wandered, purposeless, for some time after that.
Then came Matty and Vildar…
Tey has wanted to leave Jedha for some time, but not like this. Never like this.
He always imagined that Coruscant would gleam. It’s the bright, shining capital of the galaxy, so it must be a beauty beyond anything he’d ever conjured in his own mind.
Standing here now, it just seems cold. Far colder than Jedha ever was, and oh so lonely.
The Jedi Temple, much like the Temple of the Kyber, stands proud and isolated, an intimidating profile against the city behind it.
It’s almost enough to make Tey lose his nerve, but he fears that if he turns and leaves now he will never have the courage to return, and he’s spent too much of his life in the shackles of his own fear.
One step becomes two becomes ten until he’s walking into the grand foyer of the temple, hands in his pockets, trying to hide away from the many prying eyes following him as he moves.
This would be so much easier if he had Skoot with him, but after getting the layout of the temple from the little droid, he’d decided this was something he had to do on his own, leaving his companion back on the freighter Kradon had somehow agreed to let him fly here.
He’s almost able to sneak his way entirely through to his destination when suddenly he is stopped by a large and imposing Calibop, standing with his hands on his hips in a not so subtle display, his lightsaber pronounced from where it hangs off of his belt.
The Jedi doesn’t even hide his attempt at looking taller, a clear means of looming over Tey who is quickly coming to regret this trip with each moment that passes.
The Jedi speaks, “You seem to be lost, young fellow.”
His voice carries an accent that so many here in the core speak with, without ever being cognizant of. It sounds like authority and piety and though Tey feels guilty even thinking as such, a hell of a lot like arrogance.
Tey responds in a near whisper, “I’m looking for the Kyber arch.”
He hates how small he sounds. He hates how frightened he sounds. He hates that this is perhaps the most colossal task he’s ever had to undertake and yet he’d rather be back on Jedha, playing at the ragtag hero for all those souls the Convocation seem to forget exist.
A look of confusion passes over the Jedi’s face, his raised eyebrow feeling like enough to cast Tey into the ancient marble below his feet.
“Say that again.”
Tey clears his throat. He sets his feet. He closes his eyes and thinks of brown hair, gloved hands, and a smile that was so incredibly kind there toward the end.
“I am looking for the Kyber arch. I am here to honor a friend.”
Tey isn’t foolish enough to think that a dam will suddenly burst in the old bastard’s heart, and that he will be hit with a shred of sympathy and allow Tey to pass by, but he’s also not prepared for the entirely accusatory glare he receives in response to his words.
“The Kyber arch is not a tourist attraction, son. It’s incredibly sacred to the order.”
It’s almost laughable, the speed with which every last shred of courage flees his body in the face of any sort of authority. Tey has the urge to run and hide, tuck himself away in some secluded and liminal space while the world continues on around him.
He pushes down the bile threatening to climb his throat and speaks again, “I understand it’s importance. As I said, I’m here to honor a friend. I don’t take any of this lightly.”
The Calibop sighs, it seems like his attempt at sympathy, though it sounds far too annoyed to convey the intended emotions, “I’d be more than happy to point you to one of our pleasure gardens or meditation fountains. Those are free to all on Coruscant. I’m sure you mean well, but I can’t just allow strangers entry to one of the holiest areas of our temple.”
The Jedi turns as if to lead Tey away, take him astray of his purpose, and the panic blossoms in his body once more. He has to do this, and he has to do it now, or all of what has led him to this moment will eat at him for the rest of his days, leaving him a cold and empty husk just like -
He can’t even bring himself to think it.
Tears sting his eyes, and though his voice once again trembles, he fights to squeak out, “Please. I need,” he’s gasping now, clutching at his shawl as if it is the source of his in-articulation, “I just need a moment. My friend, he… He would have wanted me to do this.” His tears are freely falling now. All he seems to be these days is tears. “Just one moment, and then-“
Another sigh, this one not at all attempting to hide its annoyance.
“Son, don’t make this harder than it has to be. Walk with me, and tell me about this friend of yours.”
Tey stays rooted to his spot. He can’t- He won’t let this be the end. He just has to make this Jedi see…
“Tey?”
Even through the haze of tears and with that muted panic still ringing in his head, Tey would recognize Matty’s voice anywhere.
She’s almost like an angel, standing in front of him in her temple robes, hints of bruises still etched on her skin, relics of her time spent on Dalna. Tey wasn’t even sure she’d survived that nightmare. All of the reports of what transpired there between the Jedi and The Path of the Open Hand were horrific.
The Calibop looks back and forth between Tey and Matty several times, before venturing to ask, “Do you know this individual, padawan?”
That famous Cathely bravado flashes across Matty’s face at the condescension from her fellow Jedi, and it’s enough to make Tey feel as if he can breath again.
“I am a knight, Master Anim. Knight Matthea Cathley. And yes, Tey Sirrek was present at the Battle of Jedha. He was instrumental in saving Oliviah Zeveron’s life and protecting life throughout the city.”
The old Jedi doesn’t seem fully convinced, so Tey does something he hates. He speaks to the master’s arrogance.
“I am a Guardian of the Whills.”
Tey has a feeling the sour taste in his mouth at the surprised smile on the Jedi’s face will stay with him long after this encounter.
“Well, I’m certainly sorry to rain down such an interrogation upon you. I will be on my way. I trust you can help this gentleman in his travels, Matthea.”
Matty’s glare doesn’t leave the old fool until he is well out of sight.
An exhaustion overtakes Tey as he watches the master turn a corner and disappear further into the temple.
Matty reaches over and takes his hand, a comforting weight keeping him from getting lost in the hum of bodies all around them.
“It’s good to see you, Tey. I can hardly believe you’re here.”
He makes several attempts at words, only being able to open and close his mouth while all that he wants to say gets pulled back into the dark corners of his heart, afraid to be let out into the light of day.
Matty squeezes his hand, tears now glimmering in her eyes as she says a simple, “I know.”
Turns out, the words aren’t needed. She begins to walk, and Tey follows. He doesn’t have to ask where she is leading him, doesn’t have to remind her of what his intentions were when he made the long journey to Coruscant from Jedha. They just walk in companionable silence until the Kyber arch is in front of them, as poignant and as reverent as Tey imagined it to be.
For a while, they do nothing but stand together. A young Cathar padawan finishes their meditations, leaving Tey and Matty alone in the quiet of the space around them.
Matty moves first, and Tey follows a heartbeat later, finally pulling Vildar’s Kyber crystal from the depths of his robes, holding it in his open palms like it’s the most priceless treasure in the galaxy.
Together, they place the crystal in its final resting place, a small speck of brilliant emerald within the beautiful sea of crystals around it.
There’s a finality to it all. It’s equal parts crushing and freeing. Tey suspects Vildar’s absence will travel within his heart for the rest of time.
He whispers, “I can’t think of the right words to say.”
Matty’s smile is tearful, but it shines with a hope that tells Tey that the light of the Jedi will continue to shine in the galaxy, even after the horrors that the Path of the Open Hand delivered upon so many had tried to dim it permanently.
Matty matches his whisper with one of her own, “I don’t know that anything needs to be said.”
She takes his hand once more.
“I think it’s enough that we’re here. Vil told me that it was because of us that he was no longer alone.”
They sit together and cry for a while. He’s sure Vildar is somewhere in the great wide beyond rolling his eyes at them with a smile on his face, equal parts enamored and annoyed at their dramatics.
Tey still isn’t completely sold on all the mysticism that the Jedi and others preach in regard to the force, but he knows that it means something that Matty, against all odds, ended up here in this moment. He’s also sure that Vildar is here with them as well, in his own way.
“Hey, Matty,” he begins, a smile finally finding its way onto his lips. “You think we should-“
Matty pulls him into a crushing hug, a fresh round of tears falling from both of their eyes, though this time accompanied by their laughter.
They’ll be okay. Somewhere out there is an old drydak making sure of it.