Could Te’Ami have refreshed the blade, if she wanted to? Absolutely. But it turned on when she wanted it to, and the kyber crystal that powered it remained as pure and resonant as the day she found it on Ilum so long ago. If there was an uglier lightsaber in the Order, she hadn’t seen it. The thing was scratched and gouged with use, and had an unsightly blob of solder up near the business end where she’d welded one of the components back on when it fell off.
Its hilt was dark cerakote with a heavily tarnished copper crosspiece. Not wanting to take her hands off her control sticks at such a crucial moment, Te’Ami spared a tendril of the Force and used it to lift her lightsaber from its holster on her belt. “Let us become spears,” she said, speaking a ritual phrase from her own people, the Duros. It was faster than speaking, more effective. She could feel their assent through the link Master Kriss maintained back on the surface of Hetzal Prime. “Are we good?” No answer from the other Jedi, but she didn’t need one. It had to be done by feel, with the Force, by all the Jedi at once in a single moment. This shot could not be calculated using computers.
#PIKKA ADREN FULL#
More specifically, where it would be when the full power of the weapons systems on the Vectors and the Longbeam hit it all at once. She considered, thinking about where the object had been, where it was, where it would be. She could feel it, distorting gravity along its path. As one.” She stretched out her senses through the Force, seeking the deadly meteor-or whatever it was, the scans remained inconclusive -hurtling through space toward them. Regardless, if Nib Assek said she and her Padawan were ready, they were. Te’Ami and Mikkel, though, could not understand a word Burryaga said. It wasn’t easy for a human throat to re-create the warbling growls and whines that composed Wookiee speech, but she had made the effort. Nib spoke his language well-she had learned it specifically to take him on as her apprentice. He was a young Wookiee, and spoke only Shyriiwook, though he understood Basic. Her Padawan, Burryaga Agaburry, didn’t say anything. “We’re ready as well,” said Nib Assek, the third and final Jedi Knight in their little squadron. He never said much, but the job always got done. The low voice of Mikkel Sutmani rumbled from her speakers, immediately translated into Basic via the onboard systems. “Are we ready?” The replies came in across the Jedi-only channel.
Vectors could be tricky craft-the fluid responsiveness of the controls meant they could accomplish incredible maneuvers, but only if significant focus could be maintained. “Thank you,” she said, then flipped another few switches before quickly moving her hands back to the sticks. “Weapons are under your control,” Joss said. An amber light flashed on Te’Ami’s display, then went steady. The little bit of non-task-oriented chatter on the way out to the Fruited Moon had suggested Joss and Pikka wereĬontractors of some kind-workers on the Starlight Beacon hitching a ride back to the Core now that their job was done. Admiral Kronara assigned them a Longbeam -better to put another ship out there to help instead of leaving it sitting idle in its hangar. Te’Ami didn’t know them personally-only that they weren’t part of the Third Horizon’s crew, and had volunteered their help immediately when the cruiser dropped into the system and the scale of the disaster became clear. His wife, Pikka, was in the copilot’s seat. “Acknowledged,” came the reply from the Longbeam, spoken by its pilot, Joss Adren.
I need you to transfer your weapons systems to my control,” she said. She reached out a long, green finger and flipped one of the finely wrought switches on her console. Fail or succeed, the Jedi were in this together. It was inexact, best for transmitting sensations, locations, but it was still a useful ability, particularly in a scenario when a hundred Jedi were all trying to save a system at once. Master Kriss had a skill set rare among the Jedi: She could detect the natural bonds between Force- users and strengthen them, use them as almost a sort of communications network. She could feel Avar at the back of her mind-not in words, more of a sense of the woman’s presence. Four billion people-a high priority indeed. Master Kriss back on the Third Horizon had designated this as a high-priority mission, which Te’Ami understood. The little fleet was moving at incredible velocity, headed directly for the anomaly. It would break things just to show you it could. Worlds seemed unbreakable when you were standing on them, but Te’Ami had seen things in her day…the galaxy didn’t care what you thought couldn’t be broken. The amount of energy transferred upon the object’s impact would fall like a hammerblow on the little planetoid. Total destruction of the Fruited Moon wasn’t impossible.
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