Joining Young Justice

Chapter Twelve: The Black Blade and the Holocron

I skipped breakfast and training and kept to myself in the morning. I didn't even leave the room. I just sat on the edge of my bed, looking at the remains of the lightsaber and the two crystals.

I scooched off the bed and sat in the middle of the room, legs tucked underneath me, back straight, hands palm up on my knees. Meditation was now part of my daily routine. It reminded me of my training, of the words my masters had told me, of patience. My mind was sharp again and my connection with the Force was strong--stronger than it had ever been before.

The kyber crystals were clutched in my left hand. I reached out to the Force for knowledge. There had to be a way to heal the crystals, to purge them of the Dark Side that corrupted them. The Force fed me the knowledge I needed.

To bleed a lightsaber, a Sith put flooded it with anger, hate, fear, and pain. To purge it, I would have to do the opposite.

Placing one of the crystals aside, I took the other one in my hand and clenched it tightly, swallowing the lump in my throat that had formed when thinking about the damage the crystal had endured in the hands of the Inquisitor. Just holding it filled me with negative emotions, but I pushed them away, focusing on positive thoughts that would reverse the effects of the crystal. Peace, happiness, love, compassion.

Something nagged at me and a vision appeared, followed with a flood of emotions. Horrible, corrupting emotions. My mind flashed back to yesterday afternoon and my fight with the Inquisitor. The battle had been driven by anger. Pure, burning anger at the Inquisitors and cold-blooded execution of the Jedi. That same anger from the battlefield started to work against the emotions I was focusing on.

The crystal was fighting back.

Another vision appeared. I was in the transport ship the day Order 66 went out. A cold spear of dread pierced my heart as the first two clones turned on me. As they drew their blasters, I backed away, bumping into the side of the ship. In that moment, I was overcome with fear. I thought I was going to die at the hands of my own brother in arms. They continued toward me, switching off stun. The barrels were pointed directly at me and I didn't understand what was happening.

"No!" I shouted, fighting off the fear.

I pictured Ned, the day we first met. He was my salvation, my savior. He reached out his hand and he saved me. He made me happy again.

Bruce Wayne was Batman. That night on the rooftop of the Exchange Building, we'd formed a bond of trust and understanding. I envisioned that night and the feeling of relief I felt when I realized Batman was my ally--my friend.

"Chelsey!" someone shouted, shaking my shoulders.

My meditative state dissolved and I found myself face to face with Dick. He was bent on one knee in front of me, fingers digging into my shoulders as he shook me back to the present

"You were crying out," he said as I looked around, getting my bearings. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I was healing the crystal, but it was fighting me. Fighting the Light," I said. "I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"That I didn't fight back hard enough."

I unclasped my hand and looked down.

The crystal was black. Darker than the vacuum of space.

My stomach twisted in knots at the sight of it. Every Jedi new that black was the color of self-obsession. Pre Vizsla proved that with his Darksaber, and that blade had claimed far too many lives for selfish reasons.

How had I created something like this?

I dry-heaved and Nightwing pivoted to the side, placing a hand on my back, clearly confused by the entire situation. My hand clenched the crystal and I drew my arm back to chuck it across the room, but I stopped myself. I stopped the anger and took a huge, cleansing breath.