Archive of Our Own

Are there secrets, buried inside?

Are there broken dreams, that you try to hide?

Are there feelings that tear at your side?

It's like lookin' at a house of cards, a tower of lies

-Zayde Wølf, “Not Scared of the Dark

*****

Cal could hear the winds whipping around the Mantis outside as the ship came to land on Ilum. He remembered this place, the cold, barren wasteland that it was. The crèchemasters had harassed the Masters, Knights, and Padawans who would take groups of Younglings out to Ilum to retrieve the crystals, demanding that each child be bundled up to handle the planet’s extreme conditions. On the off chance that the older Jedi would not listen, the crèchemasters made each Youngling take a vow to dress appropriately. 

Were worry not settling deep in his stomach, Cal might have found the memory amusing. Comforting, even. He had been here before. He had done this once. Padawans, Knights, and Masters lost their lightsabers sometimes. Others would wield two sabers, one in each hand. They would need to return to Ilum for another crystal to construct a new one. Unsual as it was, such a thing was not unheard of. 

But you are different now, he reminded himself. The closed ramp to the Mantis, the only barrier between himself and what lay beyond, stood in front of him. It seemed an impossible bridge to cross. Who is to say a crystal will even choose the pathetic waste of space you are now? 

“Cal.” Cere’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “You will be tested.” 

“Yeah,” Cal replied weakly. “Yeah, I know.” 

“No.” Cere put a hand on his shoulder. “Every Youngling faced a great challenge here, but this will be different. That struggle you feel with the dark side, the one that we all feel, Ilum will know how enhance it. It will know how to show you who you really are.” She pulled something from her belt and held it out to him — a lightsaber. As Cal took it, he felt a familiar signature lingering on it. 

No, not just any lightsaber. Cere’s lightsaber. 

“But whatever test it has for you,” Cere finished, “I know you will pass it.” 

“Thank you,” he said. 

She offered him a dip of her chin as the ramp to the Mantis lowered. Chilling wind and snow blasted into the cockpit. He half-expected to hear Greez yell some complaint about it, but the Latero remained quiet. Cal wished he would, just something to breakup the unbearable silence threatening to crush him.

Cal clipped Cere’s saber and Master Tapal’s broken one to his belt and stepped out into the cold. 

He shielded his eyes against the snow’s reflectivity, the wind whistling all around, tossing his hair and snow into his face. The material of the Inquisitor’s uniform was waffled fabric beneath the outmost layer, shielding him against the cold. However, Cal knew the farther he trekked through the wet snow, the defense the waffled fabric provided would fail. 

“Let’s do this fast, huh?” Cal said to BD. He missed the comfort of his poncho, lost somewhere in the chaos his life had become between Bracca and here. “Before I freeze.” 

BD warbled in agreement, then asked Cal if he knew where he was going. 

“Yeah,” Cal said, rather half-heartedly. “I… I mostly do.” So many of his memories about himself before the Empire had been lost during his time on Nur, but there was some things that could have never been scrubbed free of his mind. No matter how hard the chair or Vader tried. 

After a short trek, Cal spied a construct in the distance. “It’s the Jedi Temple,” he explained to BD, shouting over the wind. “Every Jedi comes- came here as a kid. They called it the Gathering.” 

Memories of his own Gathering were starting to come back. He had been a part of a group of six. Before leaving the ship, Grandmaster Yoda had personally checked over each of them, ensuring they had the appropriate layers of clothing on. “Difficult to pass the trails, it is, with a cold, hm?” he had asked Cal. “Get an earful from the crèchemasters, I will, if one of you returns ill. Big, my ears are. Much complaining, can they take.” 

Cal, who had been so sick to his stomach with nerves that he thought he was about to throw up or pass out or a combination of both, had managed a small laugh. It had been years since Cal had even thought about Grandmaster Yoda, yet, he distinctly remembered the charming, sometimes mischievous twinkle in his eye. The Grandmaster had made it his personal mission to know each Youngling’s name and one special trait about them. For Cal, it had been his love of climbing and heights, which Grandmaster Yoda had encouraged by whispering to him how to get to the highest places in the Jedi Temple. 

Afraid of becoming too lost in the memories, Cal shook himself and pushed forward. The snow continued to thicken as it fell, the wind becoming more and more vicious, the temperature dropping to a biting chill. A blizzard, his mind supplied, remembering his basic weather education from the crèche. Once, there had been a place for ships to land that was closer to the Temple’s entrance. However, both Cal and Cere had been unable to find it upon their approach to Ilum. Cal had to wonder if the state of the planet and the difficult locating the Temple were connected. 

His face had long-since gone numb. His steps were becoming slower and more lethargic. He rubbed his hands together, trying to bring warmth back to them, as he climbed up over ledges and through claustrophobically-tight crevices to find the Temple’s entrance. Although shielded from the wind, the cold still managed to penetrate through the rock. Each of his breaths condensated out in front of him. 

Where are we? BD asked as Cal surveyed around the cavern. 

“Gathering Room,” Cal supplied, “I think.” He did not recall the Gathering Room being covered in ankle-deep snow all around. “It used to be beautiful… “ 

There, BD whistled, tapping Cal’s right shoulder. Cal turned and saw a control panel, stepping over to it. BD dropped off his shoulders and fiddled with it for a moment. To Cal’s left, a hexagonal doorway opened. Golden light and warmth flooded the cavern. 

Cal stayed in the Gathering Room until feeling started to return to his face and limbs. He shook himself, swinging his arms around to warm them up, before continuing. A staircase once bridged the area between the Gathering Room and the entrance to the caves, but it was no longer there, having fallen in. Cal cautiously climbed down over the icy rocks over to the caves’ entrance. The Temple itself was in a state of ruin, the walls falling in on themselves, cracked and broken pillars, little light penetrating through down here. 

“There.” Cal pointed to the icy wall guarding the caves’ entrance. Overhead hung a massive blue crystal. “Master Yoda melted that door to let us in.” 

How? BD asked. Force? 

“No, not the Force,” Cal said. “With the light… “he did a quick survey around the cavern, wracking his brain to remember what exactly Master Yoda did. His eyes landed on a massive, golden crescent shape piece stretching from the cavern’s floor to several feet below the crystal, and it clicked. 

Jumping down closer to the crystal, he reached out a hand and pulled through the Force. The golden crescent swung around, coming to a stop in front of him with a massive rattle that shook the ice and rocks around. He turned his attention to another wall panel behind and summoned one of the cords to himself, attaching it to the golden crescent. A beam of golden light and heat razed through. Finally, he reached out for the anchor hanging below the crystal, summoning it to himself, and pulled the crystal into position in front of the light beam. The heat was strong enough to melt the ice wall quickly. 

Before it could freeze back over, he climbed down the rocks and hurried into the tunnel. The cold was beginning to seep back into his bones, away from the warmth of the golden light beams. “Can you give me a light?” Cal asked. BD’s light flickered, illuminating the caves. 

During his Gathering, Cal recalled there had been six different paths, one for each Youngling to take. He did not quite know how he had chosen the one he had. Something within himself had simply known that the path he had taken was the right one. 

Now, there was only one path for Cal to take, leading off to his right. He started down the tunnel, and it gradually became lighter as he passed through it. When he came to the end of the path, he saw that the only way through was to swim. 

“Shit,” Cal swore. This was not going to end well, but he had no other choice. Cal gathered himself, drawing in a breath, then stepped off and plummeted into the icy water. 

The cold hit him immediately. His body seized up, forcing him to gasp for air. Still underwater, he instead swallowed a lungful of the salty water. His vision blacked out, limbs going limp. 

However, for once, he could thank the animalistic desire to survive he had developed at the Fortress Inquisitorious. By some miracle, his brain signals reached his limbs. He began to kick and push, desperate for the surface, desperate to draw in a breath of air. 

He breached it with a loud gasp, kicking over to the side. He grabbed onto a rocky ledge, staying still for a moment to allow his body to acclimate through the cold water. 

The only way there is through, Cal reminded himself. “You ready, BD?” 

The droid warbled yes. Yes, he was ready. 

Cal steeled himself, then dove under. 

The intial moments of his swim were the same bone-chilling cold as when he had jumped in. However, as he progressed, the water gradually become warmer and warmer. His path was lit by small lava vents popping out of the ground, the same ones that warmed the water. 

Here, his mind supplied as he was beginning to run out of air. He swam from the comforting warmth back into the deathly cold as he breached the surface again. Up ahead of the ledge, he spotted the continuation of his path. 

Cal pulled himself up to the ledge. He pushed his wet hair out of his face. Despite the warmth from the lava vents, it was still cold up here, even more so now that he was soaking wet. The cold penetrated right through the waffled materials of his uniform. He allowed himself some time to readjust to the cold before getting to his feet and continuing on. 

He walked the path in silence before eventually emerging into somewhere that he recognized. “The Crystal Caves,” he said aloud for BD’s benefits. “I- I know this place.” His tunnel at the Gathering had taken him here, the place where he had truly felt the calling of his crystal. “I- “

There was warmth. Warmth, like the Force had when he reached out to it again on Bracca. Warmth, like Ben’s voice, holding him to the realm of the living. Warm, kind, welcoming, like Master Tapal had been. 

It had always been there, waiting for him. Wondering what took him so long. 

“I feel it,” Cal said, voice breaking. He swallowed back what might have been a sob. “I feel it.” Relief unlike anything he had felt before filled him. He let out a small laugh. “I- wait, no.” 

Just as quickly as the warmth was there, it was fading. No — retreating. Running. 

“No, wait.” He picked up into a run, desperate to find the source of the warmth before it could evade him. No, no, he could not lose this, not now. Not when he had come so far. He could not turn back now, not when he knew that his chance to make something right was just within reach. 

Are you hoping that I give up? Cal silently asked. Are you wanting me to give in? Like I have before? 

“I can feel you,” Cal said. “I know you’re there.” 

BD warbled questioningly. 

“Jedi can’t pick any kyber crystal,” Cal explained. He skipped over a narrow gap, jumping between the walls and landing on the other side. “It chooses you. It’s there, I know it is!” He kept running, jumping over gaps, climbing up ledges, treading across narrow crevices. The call was there, he knew it was. It would get stronger, but then fade. 

He had the distinct sense that he was being watched. He surveyed his surroundings himself, then asked BD to scan them. However, BD found no signs of any other life forms. Still, the feeling stubbornly refused to go away. Cal had felt the eyes during his Gathering as well. At the time, he believed that Grandmaster Yoda had been watching his progress, waiting to see what trials Cal would fail at. It was only after the trial did Cal realize what a stupid idea that was. Ilum did not need the eyes of Grandmaster Yoda to know what Cal’s failures meant. 

He barely realized that his movements were becoming sluggish, and he was beginning to slow down. BD informed him that his body temperature was steadily lowering. 

“It’s fine,” Cal told him. He did not notice the slight slur to his words. “I’ll be fine.” 

Look, BD said, tugging on his left shoulder. Cal glanced up at two statues of Jedi Masters, their hoods drawn, their hands open and inviting. Cal studied them for a moment. He wondered if they were statues of anyone who had ever lived. If so, who had they been? 

The call was telling him to go that way. The statues watched him pass. Perhaps they were silently wishing him luck. Perhaps they were warning him of the dangers that lay ahead. 

As he crossed through the tunnel, a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye startled him. Cal spun, reaching for his saber out of habit, and searched around.

Wrong? BD asked. 

“Nothing,” Cal said. “I thought- “he shook his head. “Nothing.” 

When he reached the end of the tunnel, he saw a sparkling light across the other side of a crevasse. A single star shining in the distance, the one that would lead him to his destination, the one that could always be seen even in the dark night sky. 

“That’s it!” Cal pointed to it. “It’s right there!” He was close, so close, as all these years, after everything. It was right there. 

He leaped across the cravasse, following the flickering star. He came to an ice wall with only a tiny crevice to slide through and pushed forward. “We’re almost out of here,” he told BD, “I promise.” Despite his sluggish movements, slurred words, and beginning difficulty with breathing, Cal had never been more exhilarated in his life. Despite the cold ice pressing against his wet clothing, he had never felt so warm as he did now. Despite his failings, despite everything telling he could not do it, here he was, stepping out onto an icy ledge, so close to the finish- 

The ice gave away beneath his feet. BD dove off his shoulders. With a shout, he plummeted into the cold water. All went black. 

Cal? Cal, you with me? 

As he peeled his eyes open, coming back to consciousness, he became aware of a sharp, fiery pain in his left leg. Light hit his eyes first, then the actual processing of what was around. Rain was splattering on his face from a hole in the cruiser above. Distantly, he could hear the ship creaking as a thousand scrappers moved around and across. People were yelling for medics, for aid, for evacuation. 

Odd, Cal thought. That might have something to do with the pain in his leg. 

Cal? the voice asked again. Kid? A large figure moved into Cal’s vision, blocking out the light. He felt two hands on each side of his face, keeping his head straight. Can you hear me? 

Master? he wondered, reaching for the face above him. The figure gently pushed his hand back down.

No, his mind supplied. He’s gone. 

One of the hands slid around to the back of his head. Oh, kriff, the figure swore. 

How exactly had he ended up here? He remembered the hull plating of a starcruiser giving away beneath his feet, but that was the last thing. The fiery pain in his leg was crawling its way up his spine and into his head, infesting every corner of his body. He had only ever felt pain like this in the chair and when he had lost his arm. 

Stay with me, the figure begged, laying his head back down. Though his vision was blurred, Cal could see blood on the hand that had been on the back of his head. It’ll be okay. 

No. No, it was not going to be okay. He was hurt, hurt badly. He only got hurt badly when he failed. And when he failed… 

I’m sorry, he wanted to say. I’m sorry, please, I’ll- I’ll do better next time. 

He must have said it aloud because the figure shushed him. Kid, it was an accident. A hand reached for his face. There’s nothing to- 

Cal flinched away from the touch, and the figure’s hand sharply reeled back. I’m sorry, Cal said, please, don’t take me back there- 

The figure’s hands rested on his shoulders, and he squirmed, trying to get away. Please don’t hurt me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again- 

Stop moving, kid, the figure said. You’ll hurt yourself more. 

But panic had seized Cal’s throat.. I don’t want to go back, please don’t take me back, he pleaded, I’m sorry, I can’t go back, please, please, please- 

All went black again. Somewhere, in the void, the rest of that memory came back to him. It had been about six months after he arrived on Bracca, still new to the scrapping scene. One of the old Republic starcruisers he had been working on had a hull failure, sending Cal plummeting several feet downward. Prauf had found him hours later, with a broken leg, a few fractured vertebrae, and a cracked skull. Prauf had found him early enough that, even with Bracca’s subpar medical facilities, Cal had managed to make a full recovery. 

Prauf considered him lucky. Cal believed it was some strange work of the Empire on his body that helped his recovery. 

“What were you sorry about?” Prauf asked when Cal awoke. 

“What?” Cal said, feigning ignorance. 

“You said you were sorry about something,” Prauf explained, “begging not to go back ‘there.’” He made air quotes. “I don’t know where ‘there’ is, but it must be somewhere pretty bad.” 

Even after his time with Ben and on Bracca, sometimes, Cal forgot that he was no longer a part of the Empire. “I was confused,” he said, which was the truth. “It… happens.” 

Prauf’s dark eyes had watched him closely. Cal made an effort to not look directly at him. They had only known each other for six months at the time, but Prauf had learned how to read Cal like an open book.  

“Stuff like that does not just happen, kid,” Prauf argued. “You were scared, Cal. I’ve never seen you scared like that.” 

“Then you haven’t known me long enough,” Cal fired back. “I get scared like any other living thing.” 

Prauf slipped onto the edge of the hospital bed Cal was laying on. “You were acting like you had done something wrong. Hell, you were apologizing, for whatever reason. The hull failed, and you fell. It happens a lot.” 

Cal did his best to shift away from Prauf with his injured spine. Unable to roll to his side with his back to Prauf, he turned his head away. 

“Once you came to a little bit, you acted like I was going to hurt you,” Prauf said. A hand reached for Cal’s shoulder. “Did someone- “ 

At the slighest touch, against his will, Cal flinched. 

Prauf pulled his hand back. He sighed. “Cal, I don’t know where you came from, and I don’t know what you’ve been through. We haven’t known each other that long, and you may have no reason to trust me. But I want you to know that I would never hurt you. I don’t care what you do or say or whatever reason you give, I won’t do it. Wherever ‘there’ is, you don’t have to worry about it. I won’t let you go back there, no matter what. Please, trust me on that.” 

Cal stayed silent, unsure of how to process the information. “They took my arm,” he said, voice barely more than a whisper. “I made a mistake, and they took my arm.” He suspected Vader and the Inquisitorious would have gladly chopped him to bits for every single one of his failures. 

“As they should have.” 

Cal’s heart stopped. “What?” 

He was sharply tossed from the bed like a ragdoll across the medbay. He skidded across the floor, crashing into the beds, tables, and carts, items raining down on him. His leg and spine seemed to have miraculously healed, but he slammed his head into the leg of a bed. Stars danced in his vision. 

He pushed himself up into a sit, and the scene had changed. Now, he was in a dark, foggy void. The only illumination was a strange ring of reddish-orange lights shining through the fog. 

He heard the sound of a saber igniting before he saw it. A bloodred blade, gliding through the haze, cutting through the fog. A shadowed figure clutched its hilt, gaining on Cal, raising the blade. Cal threw his hands over his face, shutting his eyes, as the blade swung down- 

Instead of the blinding, blistering pain he was expecting, air whooshed past him. Something glass hit the ground next to him and shattered. 

Cal opened his eyes, once again in a new location. He recognized this place as Ben’s cave. Horror filled him as he pushed himself onto his knees, gently picking up the broken glass pieces that had once been a small model of a starfighter. A model of an Aurek-class ship from the Mandalorian Wars, Ben had explaned. The cave was notably devoid of any sort of decoration or personality, but Ben had a few small trinkets here and there. 

It’s okay, Cal told himself, fitting the pieces together with shaking hands. He could explain everything, that he had accidentally bumped it and that it had fallen off. 

But then… Ben would know. Ben would know he had made a mistake. It had only been two weeks since his escape from the Inquisitorious. He did not know Ben that well. Ben would be upset, wouldn’t he? Cal had broken something that belonged to him.

I’ll fix it, he vowed, holding up the reassembled pieces together in one hand. He’ll never have to know-  

One piece slipped through his fingers and hit the ground, shattering a thousand fold. 

Cal thought he might have heard his own heart break. 

Hours later, when Ben had returned, he had found the broken pieces of the starfighter where they had fallen. “Cal?” he called, voice distant and mute over the sound of Cal’s heart beating in his ears. “Cal?” He found Cal huddled in one of the caverns smaller areas. “Cal, what are you doing?” he asked plainly. 

Cal was unable to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice weak. “I- I didn’t mean to. I tried to fix it, but- but I couldn’t. I’m sorry… “ 

Ben reached out a hand, eventually managing to coax Cal out from his hiding spot. “It is only a trinket,” Ben told him. “Nothing important. If I wanted another, I could find one.”

He was… calm. Unbothered. “But I tried to fix it,” Cal insisted. He hated that tears were starting to well up, over something so small and so stupid. “I couldn’t- I couldn’t even do that- “ 

Ben shushed him, placing his hands on Cal’s shoulders. “Cal, it’s okay,” he assured him. “It’s just a thing. A thing that isn’t worth all this energy.” 

“So, you’re… you’re not- “ 

“Mad?” Ben shook his head. “I had a Padawan, once. If I got upset over everything small thing he broke, I would still be seething to this day.” 

It got a small laugh out of Cal. He remembered asking Ben about his Padawan, who he had been, if he knew what happened to him, but Ben remained unusually tight-lipped on the topic. 

Now, Ben’s face softened. “You didn’t have to leave, Cal. You were safe here.” 

Here. He knew that Ben was referring to Tatooine. “It was becoming less so,” Cal claimed. “I saw the Empire more. If they found me, they found you.” 

“They weren’t looking for you,” Ben said, “but they were looking for me. I put you at a greater risk than you did me. Why did you really leave?” 

I put you at risk, Cal wanted to say, but it was not the truth. It was the lie he had told Ben when Ben had asked him why he wanted to leave Tatooine. It was the lie he told himself for three years, wanting to have some selfless fib to live by rather than face the selfish truth. 

“Because I was scared,” he admitted, dropping his eyes from Ben’s. “I saw them everyday patrolling around the dunes. You told me stories about what they did. I heard some from travelers that passed through. I thought they were getting closer and closer. I needed somewhere else to be.” I needed somewhere no one would ever find me again. Cal had only returned to Bracca because the Empire had already combed the planet for survivors. Perhaps they would not think to look there again. “I can’t go back, Ben.” 

Ben placed a hand under his chin, tilting his head up. With a soft smile, he said, “I know.” 

And he shoved Cal back into the void. 

His back slammed into something hard. Restraints clapped up over his hands and legs. Electricity sparked in his vision, illuminating the room around for a moment. An array of claws was slowly closing in on him. 

No, wait, please- he wanted to beg, but his voice stuck in his throat.

Another flash of electricity, pain arcing through him, and the outline of a helmet appeared over him. Your choice, a robotic head, the voice of Vader, said in his head. Submit or die. 

Vader’s voice repeated it over and over again as the claws sent spasms down his body. He could feel the Dark Lord rifling around his head, scrambling through his brain, tearing apart every piece of his identity he knew to be true. Panic gripped him tightly, his own fear curling around himself in a tight, suffocating coccoon. He felt it everywhere, in every part of his body, in every corner of his own mind. There was no escaping it.

Dying would be the only true escape from all of this. To slip gently into that peaceful abyss, the only refuge from the hell that his world had become. Dying would be more honorable than this. Dying would be what his master, what the Jedi, would have expected of him. 

He was not ready to die yet. 

Surviving, living, submitting, running away to another life to escape the inevitable, was his only other option. Submitting was taking the coward’s way out. 

And he was a coward.

Cold rushed back to him, and his eyes flew open. He was still under the water, still soaking and freezing cold. Perhaps he had been there for hours. Perhaps for only a second. 

He registered movement in the opening above himself, a small figure kneeling next to the water — the small red-hair Padawan from Kashyyyk. 

His younger self held out a hand, an expectant look on his face. Cal will his limbs to move, reaching out with his left hand and grabbing the child’s. It was warm, solid, and real. Cal grabbed the ledge with his right hand. The kid stood, stepping back as Cal hauled himself out of the cold water. 

He crawled a few paces away from it, collapsing to his side with his knees pulled up to his chest. He was thoroughly soaked through, all the way down to his skin. The chill of the ice reached up underneath him, penetrating every inch of the Inquisitor’s uniform. He closed his eyes and curled in on himself, willing warmth into his body. 

He could feel the eyes of the kid on him as he sat back and watched Cal, perched on his knees. Cal pushed himself up enough to see the kid.

The kid’s head tilted. “You look sad,” he commented. 

At that, Cal let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “I do, huh?” He laughed again, imagining that he looked like a half-drowned tooka cat. “I wonder why that could be.” 

The kid studied him for another moment. “You have a lightsaber,” he said, pointing to the Inquisitor’s one attached to his belt. “I never seen one like that before.” 

Unsure of what to do, Cal unclipped it from his belt and held it out. 

The kid took it, then frowned. “No wonder you’re sad.” He turned the saber over in his hands, then shook it. The rattle of the saber’s broken pieces echoed throughout the cavern. “It’s broken.” He got to his feet. Cal slowed pushed himself up as well, keeping one arm curled around himself. The kid handed the saber back to him. 

“It’s just there, come on.” He grabbed Cal’s left hand, his cybernetic one, and gently tugged him forward to the flickering star. “It’s right there. It’s always been.” 

On his first step, Cal’s knee buckled. He quickly righted himself, but his steps became slower and more ragged. While the kid remained unfazed, Cal only made it halfway before his legs gave out underneath him. 

He collapsed to his side, hand slipping out of the kid’s grip. The cold had seeped into every fiber of his being. He wondered how his heart was still beating, how he was still breathing, against the treachous chill. The kid grabbed his hand again, trying to pull him back up. “It’s just right there,” he said again. “Not much farther now. Come on.” 

For a short time, his body did not respond. Leave me, he silently begged the kid. Your efforts will be wasted. Just leave me. 

Eventually, the kid managed to help him back to his feet and over to the flickering star, to his crystal. It sat wedged into the peak of an icy stalagmite. The kid let go of his hand and stepped aside. He reached forward, his fingers closing around the small crystal. It radiated warmth. He gently pried it from its place in the stalagmite, the warmth falling over his hands as he cupped it between them. 

There it was. It pulsed, almost like a heartbeat, as if the crystal itself were alive. A new, innocent life form he had a strange desire to protect, to shield from the horrors of the world. Unblemished, untarnished, uncorrupted by anger or hate. 

The warmth petered out. The crystal gave a short burst, then cracked into two. The light faded. 

Cal’s heart shattered. “No,” he whispered hoarsely. No, not now. Not when he had it, not when he was this close. “No, no, no,” he continued, his words coming out as broken sobs. He turned, his back against the icy stalagmite, and sank to the ground, knees to his chest. He cradled the broken crystal tightly against himself. 

Had he done something wrong? Was this the wrong crystal? He reached out, hoping to hear the call again, but Ilum remained silent. This was his crystal. His broken, shattered crystal. 

Then, perhaps he had done what he feared would happen during his Gathering. 

The kid knelt next to him, a hand on Cal’s shoulder, staring at the two halves of the crytsal in Cal’s hands. “It’s broken,” he said. 

Cal gave no response. 

“Maybe it can be fixed,” the kid tried. 

Cal shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “There is no fixing this. There’s… there’s no coming back from this.” 

It was over. 

He had failed. 

The kid’s dark eyes remained fixed on the broken crystal. Cal knew that determined look, the one he still carried to this day. He was working out a solution, something to solve the problem, but there was none. This was the end, and he had failed. 

A fitting end for a traitor. For a monster. For a failure, and for a coward. 

Cal Kestis, he mused bitterly. Failed Padawan. Failed Inquisitor. Failed Jedi. 

Cere would be disappointed in him. So would Ben. So would Master Tapal. 

What was left now? Return to Cere and have her finally understand that all her efforts were in vain? That she had wasted her time? Perhaps he could just stay here. Close his eyes and never wake up. Take the choice to die now, but die to escape the consequences of his failure. Just as a coward would do. 

Or maybe he would fail to die. He had already done it once. Who was to say such a thing could not happen again? 

“Failure is not the end, my friend.” 

Cal looked up. The kid gasped. 

Eno Cordova’s voice echoed through BD-1’s speakers. BD slowly skittered across the ice towards Cal. 

Cal reached out as BD scurried over to him, placing a hand on BD’s head. “You found me,” he said. “You- you found me.” You didn’t leave me. 

BD whooped in agreement, then stepped away from Cal. His light flickered blue, and Cal saw a hologram projected from the little droid. He could see BD in the hologram along with a man he did not recognize. Yet, he knew it could be no one other than Eno Cordova. 

“The time has come,” Cordova told BD, who cocked his head curiously. “This may be the last you see of me. I can sense the doom of the Jedi Order is upon us.” 

Beside him, Cal felt the kid’s hand pull away. The kid wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. Even though a part of him knew the kid was not real, he wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulders and pulled him closer. The kid graciously sank against him with a small sigh of relief. 

BD’s hologram beeped questioningly. Had they failed? he asked. Were all their efforts in vain? 

“No, my friend.” Cordova stepped forward and knelt in front of BD. “Failure is not the end. It is a necessary part of the path. Hope will always survive in those who continue to fight. Like you, BD-1. I believe you will find someone just as brave and persistent as you have been. And you will help them as you as helped me… but your memory will be completely lost. Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Barely a second’s hesitation later, and BD responded that he had never been more sure of anything else. 

Cordova pulled a small disk from his pocket and placed in in BD’s central unit. “Beginning total memory encryption. Only with a trusted connection will your memories be restored. I believe in you — I always have. And I believe in whom you choose to replace me.” He placed a hand on BD’s head, a solemn expression falling over his face. “Goodbye, old friend.” 

The hologram flickered out. BD turned to Cal. 

“Your memories,” he said, “you risked them for me?” 

Of course, BD replied. I believe in you. I always have. 

The droid who had never flinched away from him. Who had always seen him as if he were worth hoping for, believing in, despite knowing what he was. Cal reached out his free hand to rest on BD’s head. “I believe in you too, buddy.” 

BD bumped his closed hand. Cal opened his fingers, revealing the broken crystals. A chance, he said.

“He’s right,” the kid added. His younger self looked from the crystals up to Cal. “Keep falling, keep getting back up.” 

“It’s the only way to succeed,” Cal finished, remembering Master Tapal’s words. His younger self nodded in agreement. 

Cal pushed himself to his feet, moving toward a flat stretch of rock over to his left. He placed the broken crystal on his belt onto the rock, then removed the two sabers from his belt. And from there, he went to work, letting the Force guide his hands as he disassembled and reassembled the two sabers to how they were meant to be. His child self watched inquisitively while BD kept a light on the sabers and provided assistance when needed.

As he worked, the cold seemed to seep away, replaced by the warmth of the light he had felt back on Bracca. Feeling slowly came back to each of his limbs, a sudden reinvigoration and drive to live filling him. To truly live, not just survive. 

Eventually, he found himself look at a completed saber, resconstructed with Master Tapal’s and Cere’s together. Hesitantly, he reached out to hold it, afraid it would shatter into a million pieces at his touch. 

His thumb hovered over the saber’s switch. Would it even work? All was silent. No voices telling him what to do or what choices he had. No force pulling him in one direction or the other. 

For just a moment, there was no Empire nor Vader. No light side or dark side. There was no Fourth Brother. 

Whoever he was, whatever he had been, seen, or done, could no longer hold him back. He had made his choice, the choice to turn away from the dark, to pursue something more and greater in his life. There would always be those who knew what he had been. They would always been afraid of him, look up him as if he were a pariah. There would always been those who saw him as a monster, a coward, and a failure. They may never see him as anything more. 

And yet, it did not matter. He had once been a shambled fib of a person, someone who desperately wanted to be who everyone thought he was. Maybe he had always been that person, even if he could not see it in the moment. 

He had come too far to turn away now. That darkness he had once been afraid of would never leave him. The Fourth Brother and himself — they were the two halves that made Cal Kestis. It was all Cal Kestis, every broken, kind, monstrous, and brave part. The Padawan, the Inquisitor, and maybe someday, the Jedi. It was someone worth believing in. 

With a deep breath, he switched the saber on. 

The two halves of the saber, Master Tapal’s and Cere’s, ignited, bathing the cavern in purple light. He split the saber into its halves, and they remained activated. He had left the spinning ring around the saber’s hilt attached. 

He reattched the two halves and deactivated the saber, clipping it back to his belt. For the first time in seven years, he felt as though he could truly breathe properly. 

The next thing he knew, his younger self had thrown himself at Cal, arms tossed around him in an embrace. “You did it. I knew you could.” 

The kid stepped back, and Cal knelt down in front of him. “You’ll have to leave me here,” the kid said. “I can’t come with you, but I’ll still always be there, okay?” 

“Okay.” Cal nodded. 

His younger self wrapped his arms around Cal again. Cal returned the embrace. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered in Cal’s ear.

Cal held him tightly. The warmth he had only felt so fleetlingly now fully encompassed him. “Thank you,” he whispered back.