Star Crossed

In the shark's claws

Hey, long chapter here. Brace for a stressful moment.

We roughly met every third day, free to speak our minds. It was refreshing, to be able to communicate without the scrutiny of the team, or the cameras. Strangely, I felt myself loosening at Erso's contact; he was so genuine, without a filter. Quite like me. The strangest ideas and notions flew through his mouth before he could sort it out; but I wasn't a mere human. Most of the time, I was able to grasp a thread and pull myself in the discussion. It was like a rope ladder, thrown in the wind, that I could grasp en route to reach his idea-ship.

I realized that our little social time helped him out of his grief. The simple action of speaking to me, telling me of his past, or Lyra's smile, of Jyn's birth and Vallt's prisons, of Orson's betrayal seemed to unload some weight from his shoulders. I never judged him; my mind was so similar to his that I could grasp his concepts easily. No need to explain; we were more attuned to each other than I had ever been with a human being. In a few short weeks, I learnt more about the empire than I had in the past ten years. The republic, Darth Vader, the fall of the Jedi order, the separatist war, the pillage of the legacy worlds... All those events I had dismissed as 'politics' were presented through a new angle. More mature and more informed. One that gave me chills.

Galen Erso was a good man, lost, half of the time, in his mind, but attuned to the deeper-void. I, on the other hand, still fled emotions so strongly that I was surprised to find so many in such a genius. The control I had over myself called his curiosity; he was my frank opposite, not having a care in the world about how people viewed him.

Our relationship changed gradually, from distrust to curiosity. Curiosity to friendship.

In the corridors, people watched me differently now, and the scientist's team, Sahali the first one, gave Galen some even meaner looks than before. When I caught those bitter glares, I had to refrain from smirking. The rumour was running, and it suited our needs well enough.

Yesterday evening, Galen's new idea had left me perplexed; he had noticed that Kyber crystals responded badly to experimentation because they were... alive, somehow. My next statement – I don't do spiritual stuff and magic - had brought a smile to his face. It was so rare that I couldn't help but stare... until he told me that he had said the exact same thing to his wife, eight years ago.

He launched in a long explanation about the Jedi and the Force church, stating that they had been using Kyber crystals in their light sabers for ten thousand years, bonding with them with their intentions. The question that remined, though, was 'what could a crystal really want ?' My colleague had shrugged, then; he had no idea. But overall, his idea made sense.

Stuck in front of the light sabers crystals, I couldn't help but review our last conversation in my quarters.

— "Kybers flee our efforts to analyze them with neutron activation, even plasma mass spectrometry. It resists our efforts. If we can find a way to communicate with them, perhaps we can stall the project for a few months."

— "Stall, how long ?"

— "Long enough for me to implement another idea."

He had not shared; I had not asked. When playing a dangerous game, better to keep too many secrets than be exposed. By now, I was confident that if Galen needed my help, he would come to me. So, while he talked to himself in his office, I tried to clear my mind and attempt a Jedi meditation technique in front of the Kyber mallet.

Who knew that I, scientist anti-religious, would one day try to communicate with a crystal ? For a long moment, I felt pretty stupid. Chasing thoughts away – with a mind in overdrive, it wasn't an easy feat. Trying to loose my sight in the crystal. Time passed, and nothing happened. Frustrated, I took a swig of my caf. Cold. Ugh, it enhanced the bitterness. A sudden flash caused me to wince. A light saber, red... bleeding. A tall, dark form, breathing through a mask. The cry of agony of the crystal within, forced to do his will. Bent to the dark side, corrupted, desperately trying to thrive in the peacefulness of the Force without any change to reach it.