#you know master cordova would be desperate to make cal find as many echoes as possible

[breakfastteatime]

Today's Survivor request is 'Echo' for @animatedjen

Master Cordova joins Cal in the stacks of holobooks, the elder Jedi radiating such a sense of peace and belonging Cal can’t decide if he wants to ask how he does it or run away and hide in shame.

He takes the secret third option and simply says, “Hi.”

“Hello, my friend,” Master Cordova says. “I take it you are finding plenty to occupy your mind.”

BD laughs louder than Cal, and he dodges Cal’s half-hearted swat, leaping onto Master Cordova’s shoulders for cover. “Plenty, thank you,” Cal says.

BD does a jig and tells Master Cordova Cal wouldn’t know how to not occupy his mind even if his life depended on it.

“Well then, perhaps I can pick your mind for a while.”

“Sure, although I’m not sure there’s much I can tell you that you don’t already know. Unless it’s about Venator deconstruction. There’s a good chance I know more about that than most people.”

“If it’s alright with you, I wonder if I might make use of your psychometry.” Master Cordova holds up his hands. “Please, do tell me if I am stepping out of line. You owe me nothing, and I do not wish for you to feel like a performing bogling.”

Hearing Cal being compared to a bogling is apparently the funniest thing BD has ever heard, and he cackles so much he almost falls from his perch. Cal shakes his head, promises Master Cordova it’s fine, and follows him to a small chamber off to the side of the main archive. Inside, a small collection of artifacts awaits them. An Anchorite bows, wishes them both a good day in a melodic voice, and slips out to leave the three of them alone. Master Cordova shows him what appear to be Zeffo artifacts – Cal recognises the art style and the script. While BD scans, Cal runs his hand over them, echoes singing as they always do. Those on the surface belong to Master Cordova and shimmer with the excitement of discovery. Diving deeper, Cal reaches further into the past. There, deeper down, the original carver’s emotions. Pride at being asked to create an image of the Sage Eilram, the Life Wind guiding mind and hands to create perfection. Cal reports his findings to Master Cordova. “Sorry, nothing to say where the Zeffo went.”

Master Cordova shakes his head. “I expected nothing of the kind. Now, may I ask for one more?” This time, the artifact he reveals is distinctly Jedi in origin.

A lightsaber hilt. Its ostentatiously curved hilt and intricate carvings suggest it is a relic of a bygone age, even more bygone than the one Cal grew up in. Lightsabers were sleek, functional from what he remembers. This? This is art. Curious, Cal touches it.

She raises her weapon, a final salute to her enemy, to her Padawan, to the Force, to the Jedi Order who went to such pains to train her. The Sith are coming, and she cannot allow them to pass. Deep breath. Release your fear. The Force is your ally, you are a conduit. She ignites a brilliant blue blade and swings into battle and – 

His master is gone. Dead. Not even a body left to cremate. She took many of the Sith out with her, their bodies scattered where only her robes remained. He opens the lightsaber piece by piece and takes the crystal nestled within. Reconstructing it, he places it in its final resting place with all the other weapons of the honoured dead.

Cal opens his eyes. Master Cordova watches intently. Embarrassed to be the focus of such focused attention, Cal hands over the lightsaber hilt and shares its story. “Where did you find it?”

“In an ancient temple, one so old even my old friend Jocasta Nu knew little about it,” Master Cordova explains. “I found it in a small nook. There were many such nooks in the wall, but this was the only lightsaber that remained. Cal, the wars with the Sith are ancient. The echo remains that powerful?”

“Yes.”

Master Cordova seems delighted. “What a wonder it is to know that we truly do become part of the Force, immutable within it.”

“I’m sorry you can’t perceive it the way I can,” Cal says.

“Oh, my friend, there is no need to apologise! Just hearing about these few things is enough for me.”

A subtle, no, evil laugh emanates from a certain droid. Master Cordova could ask Cal to find more echoes in the room. In fact, Cal would love to do so, wouldn’t you, Cal?

Cal shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

Master Cordova lights up.

It’s Cere who comes to rescue Cal hours later. She suggests they all go for lunch, and subtly pulls Cal aside while Master Cordova and BD go on ahead. “Here.” She slips a pair of pills into his hand. “You don’t have a migraine, do you?”

He takes the pills, swallowing them dry. “Nah, just a headache,” he says honestly. “Takes a lot more these days to trigger anything more serious.”

She stares at him. He shrugs. “It’s been a while, Cere.”

“Too long,” she says, her hand squeezing his.