I took the first step by collecting the various parts. The light-saber, while an elegant and deadly weapon, actually was not that complex. Getting the parts to put one together was not difficult at all. To serve as the hilt, for example, I salvaged the throttle assembly and handlebar tube from a junked speeder bike. I took it from where the wreck hung in the Crash cantina and no one so much as noticed me make off with it. I got the dimetris circuitry for the activation loop from an old capital-ship-grade ion cannon fire initiation controller-won that piece of junk from Shala betting on another tuskette fight. The recharger port and wiring came from a comlink. A milled down Tri-fighter laser flashback suppressor became the parabolic, high-energy flux aperture to stabilize the blade and I pulled the dynoric laser feed line from the same broken laser cannon to act as the superconductor for energy transference from the power cell to the blade. Buttons and switches were easy to find, and dear old Admiral Tavira, with her gift of the brandy de-canter and snifters, provided me all the jewels I needed to make a half dozen lightsabers.
The most difficult part of creating a lightsaber was producing the power cell that stored and discharged the amount of energy necessary to energize a lightsaber blade. That said, the parts list called for a pretty basic power cell-in fact, because of the age of the instructions, I had a hard time locating one that ancient. Newer power cells were more efficient than the one my grand-father had specified, but I didn't think that would present a problem. After all, as I read the instructions I came to realize that the nature of the battery was not as important as how it was integrated with the rest of the components.
The core of the Jedi ritual for creating a lightsaber came down to charging the power cell that first time. My grandfather ridiculed the popular superstition stating a Jedi channeled the Force through his lightsaber. He suggested that this was a mis-understanding of what it took to charge it initially and tie it to the rest of the weapon. The Jedi, carefully manipulating the Force, bound the components together-linking them on some-thing more than a mechanical or material level, so they worked with unimagined efficiency. Without this careful seasoning and conditioning of the lightsaber, the blade would be flawed and would fail the Jedi.
Before I could figure out how to put Tavira off for another month, Elegos decoded an annotation to the instructions for constructing lightsabers. It turned out that during the Clone Wars, Jedi Masters developed a way to create a lightsaber in two days. Nejaa included this method, noting it was to be used only in times of pressing need, but not in haste. I read it over and felt a certain peace settle upon me. I knew the words had not been written for me, but they sank deep into my core. Urgency without panic, action without thoughtlessness.
I began by calming myself and simplifying my lifestyle. I drank only water and ate noodles that were all but unflavored. I cleared Tavira's gifts from my bedroom, or hid them away in closets. I sat in the middle of the floor, with the parts for the blade laid out in a semicircle around me. I studied each one and used the Force to enfold it and take a sense of it into myself. My hands would fit the pieces together, but I wanted the parts to mesh as if they had been grown together. The lightsaber would be more than just a jumble of hardware, and to make it I had to see the parts as belonging together.
I fitted the activation button into its place on the handlebar shaft and snapped the connectors into the right spots on the dimetris circuit board. I worked that into the shaft itself, then inserted a strip of shielding to protect it from even the slightest leakage from the superconductor. Next I snapped into place the gemstones I was using to focus and define the blade. At the center, to work as my continuous energy lens, I used the Durindfire. That same stone gave my grandfather's blade its distinctive silver sheen. I used a diamond and an emerald in the other two slots. I wasn't certain what I would get in the way of color tints from the emerald, and with the diamond I hoped for a coruscation effect.
Onto the end of the hilt where the blade would appear I screwed the high-energy flux aperture. It would carry a negative charge which would stabilize the positively charged blade and provide it a solid base without allowing it to eat its way back through to my hands. Controlling a lightsaber blade was diffi-cult enough without having it nibbling away at fingers.
I clipped the discharged energy cell in place, then connected the leads to the recharging socket. I screwed the recharging socket into the bottom of the hilt but didn't fasten on the han-dlebar's original butt cap that would protect it because I needed to charge the power cell for the very first time. I reached over and took the charging cord from the small trans-former I'd borrowed from our tech bay, and plugged the light-saber in.
With my finger poised on the transformer button that would start the energy flowing, I drew in a deep breath and lowered myself into a trance. I knew that manipulating matter suffi-ciently to meld the part and forge the weapon would have been all but impossible for anyone but a Jedi Master like Yoda, but doing just that as part of the construction of a lightsaber had been studied and ritualized so even a student could manage it. It was very much a lost art, a link to a past that had been all but wiped out, and by performing it I completed my inheritance of my Jedi legacy.
I hit the button, allowing the slow trickle of energy to fill the battery. I opened myself to the Force and with the hand I had touching the lightsaber's hilt, I bathed the lightsaber with the Force. As I did so subtle transformations took place in the weapon. Elemental bonds shifted allowing more and more en-ergy to flow into the cell and throughout the weapon. I was not certain how the changes were being made, but I knew that at the same time as they were being made in the lightsaber, they were being made in me as well.
In becoming a conduit for the Force for this purpose, the final integration of the people I'd been occurred. The fusion became the person I would be forever after. I was still a pilot: a little bit arrogant, with a healthy ego and a willingness to tackle difficult missions. I was still CorSec: an investigator and a buffer between the innocents in the galaxy and the slime that would consume them.
And I was Jedi. I was heir to a tradition that extended back tens of thousands of years. Jedi had been the foundation of stability in the galaxy. They had always opposed those who rev-eled in evil and sought power for the sake of power. People like Exar Kun and Palpatine, Darth Vader and Thrawn, Isard and Tavira; these were the plagues on society that the Jedi cured. In the absence of the Jedi, evil thrived.
In the presence of just one Jedi, evil evaporated.
Just as with the lightsaber, the changes being made in me were not without cost. What the Force allowed me to do also conferred upon me great burdens. To act without forethought and due deliberation was no longer possible. I had to be very certain of what I was doing, for a single misstep could be a disaster. While I knew I would make mistakes, I had to do everything I could to minimize their impact. It was not enough to do the greatest good for the greatest number, I had to do the best for everyone.
There was no walking away from the new responsibility I accepted. Like my grandfather I might well choose when and where to reveal who and what I was, but there was no forget-ting, no leaving that responsibility at the office. My commit-ment to others had to be total and complete. I was an agent of life every day, every hour, every second; for as long as I lived, and then some.
I heard a click and looked up, blinking my eyes. "Elegos?"
Elegos stood over me, offering me a glass of water. "It's done."
I blinked, then took the water and greedily sucked it down. I lowered the glass and felt water dribbling down around my goatee. I swiped at it with my right hand and felt the stubble of beard on my cheeks. "How long?"
"Two and a half days." The Caamasi smiled and took the glass back from me. "Not as fast as your grandfather, but ac-ceptable."
"Anyone notice I was missing'?"
"Several people inquired, but I told them you were down with the brandy ague. They said they could understand your celebrating your change in fortune." He set the
glass on my dresser, then walked back into the suite's parlor. "While you were engaged in here, I found something else to do, and made good use of one of Tavira's gifts to you. I estimated the pattern based on my merehis of your grandfather."
He held up a green Jedi robe, with a black belt and black overrobe. "I think it should fit you well."
I nodded and brandished the lightsaber. I punched the but-ton under my thumb, giving birth to the silver blade 133 centi-meters in length. "A lightsaber and robes. Looks like a little justice has arrived on Courkrus, and it's about time."
decided to build upon the ex-cuse Elegos had fashioned for me by spending more time drink-ing-or, at least, appearing to be drunk. A little Savareen brandy spilled on a tunic will leave you reeking of the stuff, and if you keep swirling it around and are sloppy when you drink it-spilling more on yourself in the process-folks notice. The people I was spending my time around had no trouble believing I was three jumps from sober at all times.
Being drunk gave me far more freedom because, as long as I was not obnoxious, lost at sabacc, and was generous with Tarira's money or gifts, I was everyone's friend. People looked forward to seeing me, found it easy to ignore me, and even treated me as if I was not there on those occasions when I feigned sleep.
I chose the Survivors as my first targets. I knew them better than I knew anyone else, so I had an edge on getting into their minds. The Survivors were also the most disciplined of the In-rids, so if I could break them, make them skittish, the nervous-ness would bleed over into the other groups. My move against them would be the prelude to my attacks on the other groups, so I wanted it to be especially chilling.
Elegos and I worked hard on it, programming it into my datapad, then projecting it out of the holoprojector pad in my suite. We ran it over and over again, allowing me to memorize it from every angle, and practice my part in it. I had to be careful and quick, but if it worked right, it would shake the Survivors to their core.
I took a seat in the Crash cantina at a table very much in the back. Captain Nive normally sat there, and not too long afterward he joined me. Jacob had not been paying me court as had the other pirate leaders-he trusted in the friendship we had built up during the time he commanded my squad-ron. I actually liked him and the way he managed the Survi-vors, but from the conversations we'd had, I knew he was not wholly comfortable with all he had done in his life. That con-fidence, expressed to me late one night, was about to come back and haunt him.
Jacob sat with his back to the corner of the room. I sat at his left, with my back toward a wall, but slightly exposed along my flank. Another chair sat across from him and could not be seen by most of the rest of the room because of a pillar. I had a bottle of Savereen brandy sitting in front of me, and a snifter in my right hand. Jacob drank lum, but never enough to get roar-ing drunk, just mildly suggestible. We sat there, chatting in low voices about the latest rumors concerning Shala the Hutt, when I pushed the empty chair out with my left foot, as if someone were drawing it back to sit.
I tapped the Force, letting it fill me, but turned my head toward the chair and away from Jacob. "You can't sit here. This is a private table." As I said that, I reached out with my senses and projected an image into Jacob's brain.
Jacob's head came up and he blanched. "Not possible." The figure he saw sitting down opposite him spat out a thick golden credit coin, that bounced once on the table. My left hand swept out to grab it, then I slapped down the credit I'd palmed. My left hand recoiled. "It's cold."
The figure across the table from Jacob wore an Imperial Captain's uniform, albeit a bit too small, and had a mouse un-der his left eye. In fact, Captain Zlece Oonaar of the Cra~'ader looked exactly the way he had after the Survivors had tried him and Jacob had ordered his execution. Jacob himself had stuffed the gold credit in his mouth, following the old superstition of buying off the evil things the dead would say about the living, then had him pitched out of the Backstab's main airlock.
Zlece Oonaar looked directly into Nive's eyes. "You can have your gold back. The dead don't speak ill of the dead."
I grabbed Jacob's left wrist with my right hand. "What does he mean?"
Jacob's mouth hung open. "I don't know."
Zlece nodded slowly. "You know. You know you should have died the day all your friends did. If you'd fought harder, they might have lived. You failed them, and now you will join them. Doom is coming to Courkrus. All your victims will be avenged."
Jacob stood abruptly, tearing his wrist from my grip, and threw his mug of lum through the phantasm. I let the image fade into a bloody mist that drifted away as the mug shattered against the pillar. Jacob stood there, gape-jawed and trembling, then looked around at everyone else in the cantina. Their at-tention had been drawn to him when the mug exploded, but they had seen nothing prior to that.
Jacob pointed at the chair. "Did you see him?"
Other people started to shake their heads.
He looked at me. "You saw him, didn't you, Jenos? You saw him."
I shuddered and drained my brandy snifter. "I saw him. He was that guy we took, the one we tried." I fingered the coin. "You put this in his mouth."
Jacob snatched the coin from my grip and held it aloft.
"Right, I put this in his mouth."
"But we left him in space." I poured more brandy into my shifter and looked up at Jacob, ignoring the tightening knot of people closing in on us. "What did he mean, `Doom is coming to Courkrus'?"
Jacob snatched my brandy away from me and swallowed it all in one gulp. "I don't know." He put the snifter down again and tapped the rim for a refill. "I don't know, but it is not good. Not good at all."
Within twelve hours the story of the visitation had spread all over Vlarnya and had taken on a life of its own. I had people tell me what they had seen and got to listen to them describing a vision I know they never saw. Even when I said that was different from what I'd seen, they told me I was misremem-bering because I'd been drunk at the time. They knew what the truth was, and it really seemed to scare the bone right out of their spines.
No one was quite certain what it was they'd seen. Some thought it was a ghost, pure and simple, come back to haunt Nive for killing him. Others took the warning into account and wondered why a ghost would warn when he could have just struck and killed us all-if a ghost could actually do that. The warning seemed to worm its way into the minds of many, which was my intent. i wanted them to have been warned so when things started to happen, they would link them back to the warning.
I was pleased the first effort had so grand an effect, but I knew I couldn't do that sort of thing again. While I might be able to use an illusion to throw off pursuit, simple ghostly com-ings and goings were not going to convince the Invids that it was time to abandon Tavira. The palmed coin provided solid evidence that convinced a lot of people of the veracity of the visitation. Because of that I decided that the next actions I took required physical proof of something going on, and a coin wasn't going to do it. It was time for something a bit more direct and painful.
I waited until after Timmser and Caet had dragged me home from Crash and turned me over to Elegos before acting. Mum-bling how he hoped I wouldn't vomit on the bedsheets again, the Caamasi hustled me off and the two of them escaped lest they be asked to help clean me up. Once they were away, I slipped into the Jedi uniform, donned a hooded cloak and slipped out into the night. Using the Force I was able to blank the short term memory of those hotel staffers who did see me, leaving them with an innocent eight-second gap in their memo-ries that covered my passage through the lobby.
Using the Force both in Crash and in the lobby was taking a risk at detection by Tavira's advisors, but I was fairly certain there were none on Courkrus. She'd never given us one before and she had no reason to assume there was going to be a prob-lem on Courkrus. To leave one here "just in case" would be to provide any of these groups with a chance to learn her secret and strike out on their own. For that reason alone I felt very safe in u
sing the Force as I hunted.
My previous sojourns into the city served me well as I moved through less populated alleys and byways to reach some of the seedier areas of the Aviary. I reached inside to tap the Force, so I could expand my sphere of responsibility and locate someone who needed help. My intention, of course, was to help that person and take the criminals involved out of the holograph. It was like being back in CorSec, making a sweep through Trea-sure Ship Row, just without all the lights.
The difference was, this time, I had the Force as my ally. My sense of the city and the area around me became acute, al-lowing me to register the various life sources. Had I wanted to, I could have taken a census of crunchbugs or feral tuskettes in seconds. I didn't, though-other data drew me on into the night.
When on patrol for CorSec, I'd been a predator looking for prey, hoping I didn't find it in sufficient quantity to kill me. With the Force, I almost felt like a superpredator. I sensed where everyone was, where their attention was directed. I could choose paths of confrontation that would keep things quiet, or would make for a big display. At the moment I chose some-thing smaller and more intimate, but I knew the day for some-thing more spectacular would come soon.