Chapter Text
Luke is sitting in one of the upper sections of the Temple, closed off for the general public and even some of the residents (the children). He’s sitting at a console, a few tomes and his datapad are laid out nearby. He’s supposed to finish researching lightsaber materials and crosscheck all parts and their specs, but his mind is circling back to the desert the night before—
He shakes his head, pulling himself back into his search at the console. The cursor is ticking in the search bar at the end of the phrase “Durasteel chromium melting temperatures,” but he’s yet to hit “search”. I’ve been doing my absolute worst to finish my final task quickly, how long can I stretch this?
Leia hasn’t yet reached out with any news about Han, so they must still be searching. Luke shakes his head and gets back to trying to finish compiling all the specs before he falls asleep at the console.
***
Next day, he’s back in the same room, this time meditating on a poem from Chirrut’s collection. It’s nearing midday, judging by the position of the sun as he peeks through the dusty transparisteel of the window.
There are light footsteps in the outside corridor and a moment later, the door hisses as it opens to let K'asia into the room. Luke sends a weary smile their way.
“Chirrut told me to check if you fell asleep. Your com’s off,” K'asia says, panting a bit from exertion. They must have ran upstairs instead of using the turbolift. Almost everyone in the Temple does it, if their limbs allow them to (“Excellent exercise, keeps us all in good shape,” is what Chirrut mentioned multiple times to Luke as they jogged upstairs to meditate on the roof).
“I was about to go downstairs and pester him about today’s poem,” Luke admits sheepishly, putting away the datapad. “The moment between breaths / Is the balance of the Force. / Between life and death. / Rest and action. / Serenity and passion. / Hope and despair,” he recites from memory, eyes going half-lidded. He looks back up at K'asia and says, “I wonder what’s his take on the whole ‘balance’ thing.”
“Ah, that’s from Nartum Trecim, a true Force ontology classic.” They nod solemnly. “Want to grab a bite on your way to Chirrut?”
“I’d love to.”
***
Later that day, Chirrut takes Luke to the very top of the Temple to meditate, but evidently neither Luke’s mind nor heart are in it because he just breathes in the frigid air and contemplates the cityscape. The rise and fall of each sector, the shapes of buildings—the domes, squares, cylinders, and the occasional spire are pleasantly lulling Luke’s mind into a peaceful humm.
“Master Îmwe,” he breaks the silence as his gaze is once more drawn to the two tallest constructions that stand out from others, leaping towards the sky like needles. “What’s in the two spires? The tallest ones? They look a bit different from everything else in the City.”
Chirrut huffs out a laugh. “Mostly hieroglyphics and other wall art, some statues. All of them of gargantuan proportions. Almost no one in the Galaxy remembers the people who built them, but they—the ancient Zeffonians—used to be a proud civilisation, strong in the Force. I happen to know this because a Jedi I once knew came here to research the twin structures and then told me all about his finding, the incorrigible chatterbox that he was.”
The Guardian then goes into a long and detailed story of Master Eno Cordova and his studies on the Zeffo culture, all the travels he made to chase the known remnants of these long-forgotten people. Luke’s utterly enchanted, mostly at the thought of another Jedi long gone, and makes a mental note to try to get into one of the spires to see if the Zeffo art can speak to him through the Force.
“—with Bodhi.” The name breaks through Luke’s reverie. “Right?” inquires Chirrut.
“Huh?” Luke says, intelligently.
At that, Chirrut pokes him in the back with his stick. “I said, you’ll have to go with Bodhi to find a kyber shard for your lightsaber. He can take you there.”
***
After a few days, when Luke finishes compiling specs for his new lightsaber and when Bodhi’s done with his post-supply flight deliveries—they finally have an afternoon to themselves. This time Luke comes over to Bodhi’s apartment to pick him up, so that they can head together to the New Market. When Bodhi lets him in, he’s got a spoon in his mouth and looks generally dishevelled.
He takes out the spoon and says, “I just got up from a nap, so um—I’m still not entirely sure which year it is, but come in.”
Luke steps over the threshold and the door irises closed behind him. “It’s still 3 ABY,” Luke supplies. “As far as I know.”
Bodhi rolls his eyes but kisses Luke’s cheek. “Come and meet Ahm, we’re about to have an early dinner,” he says and motions Luke into one of the rooms.
A grey-skinned Latero is sitting at a small table, engrossed in something on their datapad. When they notice the guest, they hop off the high stool and put out one of their four hands for Luke to shake. “Well, well. Delighted to meet the dashing rebel,” they wink at Luke, who sends Bodhi an amused grin.
“Pleasure to meet Bodhi’s favourite auncle,” Luke says.
Ahm guffaws at that. “Bodhi’s only auncle, but I’ll take it.”
Luke sits down at the table with Ahm and they watch Bodhi stir the pot with the red gourd soup. He hopes it’s not going to incinerate his taste buds as he eyes the jar with chilli flakes on the counter next to Bodhi.
His fear probably registers on his face because Ahm leans in to Luke and whispers conspiratorially, “In this house, none of the shared meals are spicy, so don’t sweat. I'm not particularly fond of good food hurting my mouth.”
Luke exhales, relieved, and they both chuckle.
***
After dinner, they head to the New Market as planned. While Bodhi is buying fresh meiloorun fruit, Luke's standing a few steps away, leaning against a wall and quietly admiring the way Bodhi laughs at something the fruit vendor says. He’s appreciating how Bodhi throws his head back in laughter as he’s taking the bag from the vendor, how he’s grinning at Luke when he’s walking towards him, his eyes crinkling. Stars, I’m in love with him—
“Before you protest that these have gone bad—they absolutely haven’t. The purple rind is a variant,” Bodhi says, holding up an oval fruit with small horn-like protrusions. Luke is still having a major revelation, but his brain promptly kicks back into gear and instead of spiraling into a breakdown in the middle of a busy New Market alley, he comes up to Bodhi and kisses him soundly. He’ll have to unpack it all later.
“Sweet,” Luke says, his heart beating faster from the kiss and from the realisation.
They stroll around the Market, pointing at various things in the stalls. Bodhi talks about the supplies he’s brought from Takodana and complains about the prices going up in the current unstable economy. Then, they walk past a tapcafe and Luke excitedly lists various fruit-based beverages available in Mos Eisley.
They stop at the Square of Stars and sit on a bench in the shade of a giant tree with gnarled branches and pink leaves. They eat the fruit through the cut off top with the disposable spoons the vendor gave them. The flavor is the right combination of sweet and sour for it to be refreshing. Luke puts down the empty meiloorun rind.
“So, Chirrut told me that you can take me to the Catacombs?” He starts and Bodhi furrows his eyebrows, slow to catch up. “For my—” he makes a buzzing noise and mimes waving a lightsaber, also avoiding the word “kyber” in public. Anyone could be listening.
Bodhi’s face lights up in comprehension. “I could drive there with my eyes closed, I made that run so many times, mostly under cover of dark.” He shrugs. “We hauled the explosives for the mines, from Saw’s weapons stash—” Bodhi lowers his voice to a whisper, “now it’s a warehouse for you-know-what.”
“It’s a date then?” Luke asks.
“It’s a date.” Bodhi nods, taking Luke’s hand in his.
***
Back in the pilgrim quarters, Luke’s lying on his bedroll and staring at the ceiling. Now with nothing to keep him occupied after the evening meal and meditation, his thoughts are immediately back to his earlier realisation. Artoo rolls up next to him, listening to Luke thinking aloud. Earlier, as Luke switched the droid on, he was greeted with an angry warble at being left here unpowered all these weeks. Now Luke is using Artoo as his sounding board for the approaching crisis when he’ll have to leave Jedha and leave Bodhi behind—and—
Artoo chirps at Luke, don’t worry you can see him when you have leave next time in three years.
Luke groans as he reads the transliterated Aurebesh in Artoo’s holoprojection. “Thanks, Artoo. Really helpful.”
***
Before they parted, Bodhi suggested meeting at the Garage for their “Catacombs date”, so Luke can have a look at some metal scraps he could use for the emitter, switch, and sleeve. Denic is there, tinkering with something at the workbench and Luke notices how her short red hair and pale skin are all dotted with oil, as though something exploded shortly before they arrived.
She’s ecstatic at the opportunity to finally meet “Bodhi’s handsome young man”. Luke blushes at that and glances at Bodhi, his eyebrows raised.
“All true, no?” Bodhi replies without missing a beat.
Denic appears to have forgotten all about her work for the day and showers Luke with questions—about his homeworld, his X-wing, and his piloting experience. Luke is more than happy to talk shop with a fellow pilot.
“Bodhi tells me you talked him out of joining the Academy,” Luke says to Denic.
“And saved him from losing his natural flair!” she gestures animatedly at Bodhi who is suddenly very interested in the state of his fingernails. Denic takes off her goggles—the same model as Bodhi’s—and accidentally smears oil over her cheek. “All those imperial protocols and drills would have turned him into a scrub with no passion under his wings,” she shakes her head at that, apparently having strong opinions about imperial pilot training. Then her eyes widen and she says, “You weren’t an imperial pilot, right?”
Luke chuckles. “Nope, I’m all—how did you put it? Flair and passion, self-taught.”
“Then it’s meant to be!” Denic beams at Luke. His smile softens and he nods.
Bodhi clears his throat, but his lips twitch in a quick smile. “Let’s uh—let’s have a look at all the scrap lying around, maybe you’ll find something in good enough shape for you to, uh—make use of,” he says and puts an arm around Luke to walk him towards the nearest stack of boxes. Luke told Bodhi to keep his mission to build a lightsaber a secret, which also had to include Bodhi’s family (“I love them, but they’re all incurable gossips, so it’s safer that way,” he told Luke).
“Have fun, boys,” she says, waving an oil-smeared piece of cloth at them.
***
Luke walks out of the Garage with a box of small parts.
“Are you sure this trash can be used for a lightsaber?” Bodhi asks, still not convinced even though Luke insisted it was all perfectly suitable.
“It’s all about ingenuity and—and—creative flair,” he flashes Bodhi a grin. “Not about expensive or rare materials. My master gave me a long lecture about it. There is a certain humbleness in appreciating common parts and materials,” Luke explains to Bodhi, leaning on the speeder parked on the curb outside the Garage.
Bodhi hums, fiddling with the bike throttle. “Makes sense. But do you think some Jedi liked glittery things so much that they made their lightsabers from gold and diamonds?” He sits down on the speeder seat and gestures at Luke to sit behind him.
“Chirrut, K’Asia, and Ramu all collectively told me the Jedi were assholes, so probably more than one did that?” he muses. “I read that it used to be a matter of personal taste, so I guess it wasn’t explicitly forbidden.”
Bodhi shrugs and turns on the speeder. The engine’s whine drowns out all other street noises and they both hop onto the seat. Luke hugs Bodhi tightly as the vehicle starts to slowly lumber on through the busy alleyways until they reach the downward zig-zag of speeder driveway from the city’s mesa to go into the open desert. It’s just past noon and the open view in front of them makes Luke both excited and nervous. Somewhere out there, there’s a kyber crystal that will sing out just for him. He clings to Bodhi’s back and breathes in deeply.
“Ready to face the desert?” Bodhi turns his head back to Luke.
“Ride on,” Luke says.
“Yes, sir, Mr Jedi, sir.” Bodhi nods gravely and Luke smacks him gently on the side, laughing.
The ride through the open sands is much different on a speeder than it was in the shuttle high in the skies. The cold wind mercilessly whacks Luke from all sides, so he stays flush against Bodhi’s back, trying not to move too much. If it hadn’t been for all the layers he’s got on—jacket, poncho, scarf—he’d definitely end up with a nasty cold.
As they drive on, three motionless figures appear on the horizon and the closer they get, the more they resemble people. As the speeder draws near, Luke can discern the hooded figures of stone have some facial features carved out, albeit softened due to old age.
“The Three Faces,” Bodhi says, as he stops the speeder right between them. “Although there’s not much of their actual faces to be seen anymore.”
“No, but—there is a certain presence to this place, I can’t really—it’s a very odd feeling,” Luke whispers to Bodhi, as though afraid to speak in a normal voice.
“Good odd or bad odd?” asks Bodhi, twining their fingers together. The only sound out here is the faint rumble of the idle repulsors, but more amplified in their ears by the quietness of the open desert.
“Neither,” Luke says, haltingly. “I feel,” he pauses, licking his lips and looking for the right word, “exposed.”
“Uh-huh, let’s go,” Bodhi says, shivering in Luke’s arms. They leave the figures behind them in a cloud of dust.
About an hour later, an imposing rock structure appears on the horizon. At the base, there’s a carved out entrance, almost insignificantly tiny when compared to the rest of it. Luke is awed by the sight and the feeling only gets stronger, the closer they are.
When Bodhi parks the speeder in front of the entrance—now clearly a few metres tall—Luke dismounts the vehicle and approaches the sandstone wall. He touches the smooth, yet coarse surface and almost recoils at the coolness of it. He should have expected it wouldn’t be warmed from hours of scorching hot suns beating down on it and yet he is fooled for a moment. Bodhi takes his hand and Luke steps into the Catacombs, his other hand trailing behind him over the stone surface.
***
They wander into the dim space and Bodhi switches on his flashlight. Inside, there’s a spacious chamber with walls lined with vessels shaped like urns. The two men halt in the middle of the space and Luke’s suddenly overcome with a profound sense of presence, much different from the feeling of being watched at the Three Faces.
“From this moment I step into my next,’ he whispers softly into the darkness. ‘From this place I step into my next. From this life I step into my next.”
He glances at Bodhi who sighs and nods. “For I am one with the Force, for ever and for ever,” Bodhi finishes the prayer. Luke tightens the hold on his hand.
They exit the first cavern and wander for a bit in the meandering corridors of the Catacombs. Luke’s excitement from before has waned significantly and now he’s in a much more somber mood. This place feels sacred, despite the more utilitarian function it has served in the recent years. People’s remains have been here for a much longer time than the storage has been lying around. Next to him, Bodhi appears rather subdued as well.
They walk past stacks of crates strewn somewhat haphazardly along the corridors and when they reach another roomy cavern, Luke gasps, squeezing Bodhi’s hand. The flashlight illuminates rows of stacked crystals and the light reflected from them refracts and dances on the walls as it breaks into different hues.
Luke lets go of Bodhi’s hand and wanders between the rows, touching the crystals every few steps. They’re supposed to alight with a different color in the hand of their destined owner, but none of them has changed their hue yet. Bodhi doesn’t follow Luke into the crystal maze, clearly sensing that this is something that the Jedi has to do on his own.
Luke stifles a pang of impatience as he continues walking along the rows, hearing in his head Yoda’s chastisement of his hot-headedness. He was afraid of this moment, knowing it would make him face the inevitability of leaving Jedha, but now he’s impatient to finally touch the kyber shard and watch it glow with a new color. His excitement returns and his heart starts beating faster as he gets further into the maze. He left Bodhi with the flashlight, knowing he wouldn’t need it to find the right crystal without worrying about getting lost—the faint glow of the flashlight illuminates the spaces between the crystals enough for Luke to easily navigate the narrow path once he’ll need to return. So he walks and walks, hoping he’s getting closer.
As he turns another corner, Luke hears a faint hum coming from a cluster of crystals near the ground level. He crouches, his heart hammering in his chest now, and locates the source of the sound. The Force is with me, he thinks. Luke puts out his flesh hand towards the crystal, closes his palm over it, and watches it glow with soft green light. The shard breaks off from the cluster with a hollow crunch and the hum lowers in pitch.
He wanders out of the maze with the shard lighting the way and casting a green hue all around him. Bodhi is sitting down on the ground, cross-legged, and raises his head at the sound of Luke’s footsteps. He beams and Luke answers with a broad grin, holding up the small crystal.
“I’ve never seen one glow like this,” Bodhi whispers reverently, his hand hovering over the shard in Luke’s palm. “I hauled all of this here and none of them ever did this.”
“The light comes from the bond with a Force user, so—yeah,” Luke remarks and locks his gaze with Bodhi’s. He kisses him, but quickly withdraws, almost instantly overwhelmed with guilt and anguish because soon he’s going to leave and—
“What’s wrong?” Bodhi says softly and Luke feels him touch his arm. He opens his eyes and looks at Bodhi, taking in his features awash in the green light.
“Nothing, I—” Luke stammers and squeezes his eyes shut, as though trying to steel himself to face reality. Then he feels being enveloped in an embrace, Bodhi’s warmth seeping into him.
“Bodhi, I—” Luke begins and feels wetness on his cheeks. His vision blurs slightly. “I’m going to leave soon and—I never expected—I never even dreamed—I could have this with you—and I want you to know I—” he sniffles, interrupting his babble, now clutching at Bodhi and squeezing him tightly, “I care about you, so very, very—”
Bodhi’s sudden movement interrupts Luke’s stream of words. He puts some space between them and frames Luke’s face with his hands, gazing at him intently. There’s also wetness on his cheeks, glinting with greenish sparks. “I love you, Luke Skywalker,” he says quickly. “I love you,” he repeats, nodding. “And I’m going with you. If you’ll have me, that is.”
“I lo—what,” Luke’s thoughts grind into a halt. His eyes widen comically and he shakes his head. “Of course I’ll have you. Stars, Bodhi, I love you, too,” Luke lets out and adds, “I never thought—” He shakes his head one more time and kisses Bodhi’s palm.
Bodhi closes the distance between them again and this time the kiss goes on uninterrupted, both men savoring the closeness with renewed intensity, but it remains just that—a celebration and a promise of something more.
“I thought you wouldn’t want to leave Jedha,” Luke whispers when they part.
“I thought so too,” Bodhi admits. “But I want to help make it right for others like us. Like Jedha.” He kisses Luke’s cheek. “And I want to be with you up there, among the stars.”
After a good while, they leave the Catacombs the same way they entered—hand in hand. But they are both changed and Luke’s heart sings in unison with the kyber in the jacket pocket over his heart.
***
Back in his quarters at the Temple, Luke is poring over the heap of materials from Denic’s Garage, testing out different combinations around the kyber core. Before their confession in the Catacombs, he had been sure this moment would be a bitter obligation instead of celebration of his skill and training. Now his heart soars at the thought of having Bodhi at his side when he flies away from Jedha. They won’t both fit in the X-wing, so he’s going to request a transport and let Artoo fly his X-wing back to the Redemption.
Luke tinkers with the parts some more, but at one point he feels that the combination is just right. He levitates the finished lightsaber hilt, closing his eyes and reaching out with the Force to each part, affirmed in the overwhelming sense of rightness. He takes it in his right hand and the blade ignites. Luke combined a pressure grip with a locking activator, inspired by descriptions of combat techniques involving lightsabers used as throw weapons. He tries out a few moves, wary of the close proximity to various objects in the room. He deactivates the blade and puts down the new hilt, proud with his work.
***
When he talks to Leia over a transceiver call about arranging a transport for him and a new soul willing to join, he also tells her about the need to establish a rebel outpost here on Jedha.
“Good timing, we’ve hit a major milestone with the search for Han. We’ll send someone over to pick you up in a week,” she says to him over the transceiver. “I‘ll talk to higher command about Jedha. Can’t wait to have you back with us, Luke.”
“Thanks, Leia,” Luke replies. “Likewise.”
***
Bodhi and Luke have a few days just to themselves before the transport will pick them up, so they enjoy their remaining time on Jedha to the fullest. Bodhi’s resolve doesn’t waver, but he sometimes admits he’s worried about Denic and Ahm, although Denic assured Bodhi she’ll take care of them as she’s much younger than Ahm.
“She told me that the worst case scenario is she’d take over the supplies business and temporarily close shop,” Bodhi says one afternoon over a cup of chav tea.
Luke reaches out over the table and caresses Bodhi’s palm. “I have a feeling they both will be fine.”
Bodhi smiles and says, “That’s reassuring, actually.”
***
In the next few days, Luke manages to spar with Chirrut and Baze—not at the same time—finally besting them both. He knows he’ll miss them, but something tells him, this is not the last he’ll see of them.
He’ll also miss K’asia and Ramu—especially their long conversations over breakfast and good natured bickering over the nature of the Jedi Order.
It’s the last of these mornings for now and all three of them are hunched over hot porridge.
“Someone has to stay here to keep things in check,” K’asia says, waiting for their meal to cool a bit. “Did you tell your contact about helping us out?”
“I did,” Luke nods and thinks back to the other day when he went with Baze and Chirrut to meet with a City Council official to talk over some practicalities of establishing a rebel outpost on Jedha. They were cautiously excited and enthusiastic, so it was a good start. “You’re not on your own anymore.”
***
A week from Luke’s call with Leia, he’s sitting in the spaceport hangar with Bodhi waiting for their transport. Luke’s expecting a nondescript shuttle with a mildly excited cargo pilot who got a chance to change their usual supply route, but it’s the Falcon descending into one of the hangar bays.
When the ship lands, Luke sees Lando and Chewie through the cockpit viewport in the pilot and co-pilot’s seats. As the ramp lowers onto the duracrete, it’s Leia who waves at Luke and Bodhi when she sees them on the bench across the bay. Lando and Chewie soon join her down at the ramp.
They come up to the Falcon crew, walking hand-in-hand. Luke introduces them and both Lando and Leia shake Bodhi’s hand, while Chewie envelops him in a furry hug. Luke failed to mention who the soon-to-be rebel is to him during the brief transceiver call the week before, but all three of them are quick on the uptake. Leia is smiling broadly at them both, eyes glinting with joy.
“Ready to join the Alliance?” she says to Bodhi.
Bodhi looks over to Luke, they lock eyes for a moment and then both smile.
“Let’s do this,” he replies and they all go up to the Falcon.
