Fourth Time's the Charm

[Drin Kizael]

"My first lightsabre's blade was silver," Drin Kizael said as he leaned over his work. "It was the trademark color of those who possessed the gift of energy channeling in the Order. We were seen as a bit of a clique."

A 25 cm gray cylinder was splayed open on the table before him, with scavenged electronic components from three different starport markets lined inside it.

The felinoid narrowed his eyes at a speck of dust that had settled onto the emitter matrix. A nudge from the Force passed over the device like a gentle breeze, blowing the particle away. The cargo hold of an old freighter was hardly the ideal place to be doing delicate electronic tuning, but he didn't know when he'd have this much free time again, and this project had become a priority after the close call they just had.

"This one will be orange I think," he continued as he connected the power modulator in the center. "I'm going for the color of the sunset on my homeworld of Trian. We'll see how close I get."

"I thought you said lightsabres got their color from the crystal," the little girl next to him piped up. She was all of eight years old and already strong in the Force, eager to learn.

Kizael smiled. "Well they do, at first. The focusing crystal splits and remerges the energy passing through it, and each type of crystal has it's own unique wavelength."

Drin glanced at the girl and back at the lightsabre parts. "But you see this little dial right here?" He pointed at a tiny screw at the base of the modulator barely the size of the tip of his claw. The little girl scrunched up her face and peered over his big furry arm to get a better look.

"Turn that at just the right degree," he continued, "and you can change the visible light that the energy gives off to any color you want." The girl's eyes widened at that.

The Jedi chuckled and picked up the power cell, securing it at the base of the cylinder. "The Council considered such a thing a frivolous waste of effort. It was viewed as a sign of lack of discipline to bother. Discipline was very important, understandably." He let out a resigned sigh, adding, "And so everyone's weapon was either blue, or green, or violet because they typically only used three types of crystals."

The little girl watched with wide eyes as a fastener floated gently into place over a connecting wire. "So am I going to get a lightsabre when I'm old enough to be a Pata-- padi--?"

"Padawan," Kizael prompted with a soft smile. "And yes, of course."

"When?" she asked innocently.

The big Trianii belted out a laugh and grinned broadly. He covered her head in one hand and tussled her hair playfully. "When you stop asking, Lianna."


***

Drin sat up straight on the bench, rolling a kink out of his shoulder. The brittle air aboard the Whaladon had a way of making him feel his age.

He took a deep breath, surveying the work on display in the 45 cm cylinder on the table in front of him. The Trianii glanced over across the workshop. With a slight gesture, a jeweler's screw driver floated out of a drawer and drifted lazily into his hand. He leaned back down over the components, narrowing his eyes tightly as he turned the screw at the base of the power modulator.

[Daria Nytherciria]

With the structure of the Whaladon groaning all around them, each drawn-out sound like the song of its namesake, it was not difficult to move about without being noticed – but Daria suspected that her arrival in the cargo hold had not gone unnoticed. She watched the Trianii in silence, not seeing yet nonetheless understanding what it was that warranted so much of Drin Kizael's. For the time being, she said nothing, not wishing to interupt his concentration.

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael slowly turned the frequency setting twelve degrees. He then paused, closed his eyes, and tweaked it back one degree. With a sound that bordered somewhere between satisfied and curious, he repeated the process on the modulators twin attached to the other side of a second power cell.

He drew a long breath, examining his progress for a full two heartbeats. Each segment of the schematic flashed in his mind's eye as the Force glided over the components. He smiled slightly, setting down the tiny screw driver and picking up a soldering iron.

Without looking up he said, "Hello, Daria."

[Daria Nytherciria]

It was as she had suspected. Drin knew he was not alone. “Hello, Kizael.”

Pacing a few short steps forward, the Miraluka stood alongside the work bench. She watched the Trianii Jedi's hands, perceiving the tools he held simply as an absence in the light that composed his being. She cocked her haid faintly to one side and shifted her study from what was being made to the maker himself.

“You are crafting a new weapon?”

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael sounded out an affirmative "Mmm hmm" through pursed lips as he welded a connection together between modulation circuits. "The Maker willing, this one will not meet the same fate as its predecessors."

Drin smirked as he set the iron back into its holder. "Although I hesitate to count the one that I cobbled together from smuggled pieces in prison. I didn't even prepare the crystals properly on that one. It was only a matter of time before it blew up on its own, whether I meant it to or not. But it served it's purpose."

[Daria Nytherciria]

It had been particularly industrious of Kizael to have created a lightsaber whilst in confinement. It had taken Daria weeks to assemble the parts for her first blade, and longer still to connect them successfully together. Strangely, it was not this weapon she carried now, but one she had taken from another: Darth Stratus.

“Is it nearing completion?” she asked, peering at where the 'saber must have sat for only a second. Her real interest was in Drin himself, though she was not have openly questioned him on the matters that drew her curiosity.

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael smiled crookedly. "Yes and no. You had a surprising number of components available. I've built so many of these now and repaired so many vibro weapons in my time with the Rangers that it seems I can put the electronics together in my sleep."

He sat up straight, reaching his hands out to either end of the 45 cm hilt. "Though I am being significantly more creative with this design. It's not like you would have a Sith holocron on hand. And I can't exactly walk into the Temple archives to find the design notes I'd like."

The Jedi grimaced and glanced up. "Of course, the archives aren't even there any more. Are they." He pressed his lips together, stifling a subtle growl as he looked back down at the table.

"But," he added as if to assure the somber tone would not linger, "I've worked with enough modular weapons that I understand the concept. It's not as big of a stretch as one might think."

Kizael closed the hilt with a snap. "So yes, this part is just about finished. Still, it's just a paperweight until I've had time to attune both sets of crystals."

[Daria Nytherciria]

One of the blessings of being aboard Rebel Alliance vessels was, as Kizael had mentioned, the resources they provided. Whilst the Rebellion wasn't able to provide everything that the Jedi needed, they had a great deal more to offer than the handful of freighters the Jedi had brought with them. There had been an overwhelming show of generosity from near-everyone aboard the convoy, each of them wanting to contribute in some way towards the cause.

There were some things, however, that could only be acquired by a Jedi. “I see... where did you acquire your crystals?”

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael froze just as he was about to pick up the hilt. For a full heartbeat he sat rock still and stared at the device in his hand. Feeling the tension stirred up by Daria's words drift away, he slowly exhaled.

The Trianii turned fully in his seat to face Daria. "What?" he asked in a calm tone that masked the disbelief behind his eyes.

"Where did you acquire the crystals?" she repeated. "For your lightsaber," she amended, sensing his hesitation.

"Am I to understand," Kizael began, "that someone on board thought enough to collect all of the proper components for lightsaber construction -- diatium power cells, insulation, lenses, molding equipment, even suitable emitters -- and you have no focusing crystals?"

Drin looked off to the side, letting the moment soak in. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Forgive me," he said. "When I saw the workbench, I should have thought to take a more careful inventory before simply diving in."

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Trade in lightsaber crystals is policed heavily by the Empire,” Daria clarified, not quite sharing Kizael's amusement at the situation. She frowned in faint confusion. “Either they occupy the planets capable of crystal production, or they destroy the crystal formations entirely.”

There was a black market trade in synthetic crystals, but as one Padawan aboard the Wheel could testify, they had a habit of causing explosive malfunctions and leaving the wielder with a rather nasty set of burns. The scarcity of the crystal's was one of the reasons that Daria carried a saber she herself had not crafted.

“I have heard rumours that Ilum remains untouched.. but the Rebel Alliance doesn't seem to be able to provide conclusive intelligence on that matter, given their limited presence in the Unknown Regions.”

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael nodded solemnly. His penchant for finding the humor in most any situation helped him maintain balance through the many trials of his life, though he forgot how that trait was met by most of his Jedi peers.

"Chances are, Ilum's location was purged from the system the instant Palpatine tried to access it, unless of course he just wiped it outright." He paused, considering his own words for a moment.

"If the Alliance had intel on Ilum I would be both impressed and alarmed. If they had found it and recorded its location, that would mean the Empire could find it just as easily."

He stood up, pacing a little. "The only place the location was recorded was in the Jedi temple. So if the planet hasn't been bombarded into nonexistence, it's safe to conclude they never found it." Kizael turned to Daria and added softly. "And never will, I fear."

[Daria Nytherciria]

It was sometimes easy to forget that there were beings on board the Wheel who had set foot in the Jedi Temple, back when it had held pride of place on Coruscant. One of the Order's greatest losses had been its archives, whose data-cards reportedly chronicled the lengths and breadths of time. So much of its contents had been seized or, worse, destroyed and Daria could scarcely imagine what it must have been like to have access to such a wealth of knowledge.

As for Ilum, it's location – and fate – remained unknown. Folding her arms across one another, hands at her elbows, Daria accepted Kizael's prediction with a soft nod.

“I suspect you may be right, so long as we remain dependent on the Rebellion to convey us about the Galaxy.”

[Drin Kizael]

"Yes, well, I'm working on that," Kizael said casually. "This tiny little convoy needs better a defense than its hyperdrives. We need more ships, but none that would be better served on the front lines in the Alliance. And not so many that the younger adepts try to take us off to war themselves."

The Trianii regarded Daria. "They need to see us doing more. And making The Wheel feel a little more secure is a good a place to start. We can take on another ship or two without depriving the Alliance of another crew. Just enough to carry a compliment of fighters and shuttles and at least one vessel for away missions."

He returned his attention to the half finished sabrestaff hilt. "But that plan just got shelved. I did not know about this crystal problem. Without lightsabres, we can't be the symbols that the galaxy needs.

[Daria Nytherciria]

The business of what the Alliance would and wouldn't provide them with was... tricky, at best. Thus far it had been Navaria and Daria herself who had acted as brokers between the Jedi and their benefactors, so the Knight knew first hand how circular those discussions could be. They took small steps, surmounting one obstacle at a time – and here, apparently, was another.

“How would you propose we solve this.. problem?”

[Drin Kizael]

"I have absolutely no idea." Kizael stopped pacing near the open doorway of the small workshop. "This would be the point where Master Yoda or Master Koon would suggest we go meditate on the matter."

The Jedi leaned against the wall, looking out the door at nothing. "And we all know how far that got them," he added with a sigh. His eyes seemed to focus on something distant in the empty corridor.

"I went to Ilum once, you know." Kizael chuckled to himself at the memory. "Though we certainly took a scenic route."

The Trianii's ears tilted up. He straightened his posture, his eyes dancing with sudden realization.

"Denon," he whispered.

[Daria Nytherciria]

“Denon?”

Though widely travelled, Daria had always charted courses that avoided the Inner Rim Territories wherever possible. The presence of the Empire hung like a miasma over so many of the planets therein, and whilst it was not universally popular, there the Imperial rule was near iron-clad.

Denon was one such world, a planet whose vast urban sprawl was often compared to that of Imperial Center itself. It was exactly the kind of hive of activity that she had spent her life, to this point, trying to avoid.

[Drin Kizael]

Kizael regarded Daria as she echoed him though his mind focused more inward, sifting wildly over the possibilities that his memory had produced.

"There was a hyperspace accident," he began, more to himself than to the Miraluka. "We had to take a rather severe detour. Nearly a week in real space skimming the Hydian Way to get back to civilization."

The big Trianii shook his head ruefully. "They've surely wiped its memory at least once in... mir gohj twenty-eight years -- It was that long ago wasn't it. And that's assuming they even still own it."

Kizael returned his attention to Daria, as if remembering she was in the room. "I need a shuttle from the Valiant."

[Daria Nytherciria]

Daria merely stared back at Drin, with a look of brief puzzlement. It was as if she had just watched a holo-film, from which sections had been cut and scenes shifted into a disjointed order, giving the distinct impression that she had missed something.

“Colonel Vorega is an accommodating woman. I don't doubt that she would provide you with a suitable vessel, should you request one.”