Convergence (Star Wars: The High Republic)

by Zoraida Córdova

Xiri leaned on the arm of the chair and narrowed her eyes. “I’m curious, Jedi. Is this what you do all the time? Go here and there saving worlds with your light swords?” “Lightsabers. And they are for defense first. We go where we are called,” Gella said, remembering Master Sun’s words. “I’m still learning my way.” “Don’t you miss your home?” Gella blinked at the question. “The concept of home is not the same for me as it is for you.” “I suppose your temple is your home.” “Yes, though sometimes we’re assigned to different temples on different systems, and sometimes, like now, we live aboard a ship.” “Strange,” Captain A’lbaran said wistfully, “you fight to save so many homes for so many beings, yet you have none of your own.” “It’s not as simple for Jedi.” Gella turned to the flickering landscapes on the far wall. If she thought about the enormity of the galaxy for too long, how she would never see all of it, she’d get too lost in her own thoughts. “I’ve never actually thought of it that way. The galaxy is my home, then.” “Hm,” Xiri mused. “That sounds like a lot of upkeep.” “Upkeep does not do such a thing justice, I think.” A warm sensation spread from Gella’s chest. Certainty. Every Jedi, whether in the temples, on Pathfinder teams, or serving as Wayseekers, had a shared goal—peace and justice in the galaxy. “It is my calling.”