I stood, mesmerised, before our new acquisition. A set of little Kyber crystals, all of them faceted the same way, but with very different colours. Purple, blues, yellows, reds … an arrangement fit for the "All species week" on Coruscant.

I knew to never mention that gathering to Director Krennic; Galen's escape, four years ago during the event, had left him sour. As for myself, I had wonderful memories if this festival. People of all horizons gathered, drank, sung and played music in streets laden with colourful clothes and streamers. The mood, joyful and unbridled, had always gotten to me. One of the only times where I had stumbled about, tipsy, with friends from the academy to dance the night away. One night during the year when I could wear my own clothes instead of a uniform, and unleash my inner self. Euphoria. The moments I allowed myself to loosen were scarce enough to be counted on one hand. Even with guys, when having sex, I remained the one in control.

So it was with a giddy eye that I considered the deep colours of our new acquisition.

Do you know where those Kyber crystals come from?

My notebook slid by my side, pushed by a set of long fingers. It caught my attention and I shook my head. No. I had no idea where this neat little collection came from, but I couldn't take my eyes away from them.

Jedi light sabers.

I frowned as Galen left to barricade himself in his office, probably to make a plan about the testing of our new toys. Or maybe, thinking about his wife once more; she used to believe in the Force after all. By then, I was used to Erso's eclectic communication skills; his sudden take offs and appearance didn't faze me. Such was the way of the scientist.

My attention returned to the memory foam that held our little crystals. The size matched; they could fit in a palm. I ran my finger over their facets longingly, wondering whose Jedi knights those Kybers has served. Friends, or merely tools?

The downfall of the Jedi order was hazy to me, at best. I had been nineteen at the time, working on the inertial dampeners of the nuclear reactor that had now been installed inside the Empire's battle station. A newbie, fresh out of school, trying her best to impress her hierarchy. Things were simple then; there had been no Krennic, only work for the republic and my mother's constant pushing to thrive. The news that the Jedi order had attacked the chancellor, and turned against the republic, were easily swallowed. The clone army had exterminated them, pure and simple, because of their deflection.

At the time, the whispers of conspirationnist had fallen on deaf ears. Seeing the Chancellors' disfigured face had convinced me that the Jedi were misled, period. I believed in science, not in the Force or anything else, and the enemy was the enemy. Now, try as I might, I couldn't recall what those adverse theories were; that the self-declared emperor was a Sith, or something like that. That he had Darth Vader in his thrall, and sent him to kill every remaining Jedi in retaliation. Where was the truth? Did I even want to know? If Krennic was a manipulator and a liar, how far did the masquerade go?

We scientists weren't privy of the Force. We didn't feel it, and it left us alone with our research. Had the Jedi lost their way? Really? To me, Jedi meant light, and safety. I never feared them, was I wrong?

I needed information, and I knew where to find it. Galen's wife knew the way of the Force after all, so I popped into his office once more. He was probably expecting me, for he pulled a chair. A mild wave of annoyance greeted his actions; was he manipulating me as well? He seemed to know exactly what I wanted, and the things that roamed my mind. It was unsettling, at best, and for a moment, I felt the urge to yell at him. Whatever for?

This situation, stuck between him and the friend of his young years, was uncomfortable at best. At worst… I didn't know where it would lead. Their relationship was so murky that it plagued my nights. Ugh!

— "Did you need something?" Erso asked.

I nearly started, the wave of annoyance washing away as I took in his features. Little by little, the tense lines seem to abate in my presence. A slow but steady progress. I poked my tongue inside my cheek, trying to create a little order in my rushing thoughts.

— "The Jedi, they used the Kybers in their light sabers, right?"

A nod. His eyes were guarded, his face giving nothing away … there flew the trust and easiness of the past minute.

— "Did they use it for anything else?", I asked innocently.

— "Not that I've heard of. From what I gathered, they bonded with the mineral and only made use of it if needed."

Nothing new here; the Jedi had kept their secrets well. But Galen's eyes, so intense, were trying to read my face. So I fished the notebook from my pocket and kept talking, just to produce some noise that would be caught on the recording while I wrote.

Where did they find the ones that will power the base? They'll have to be enormous.

I slid the sheet to him, standing to block the camera's view as I continued to theorise. His answer brought a shudder down my spine.

Temples, museums and worshippers, probably. Many worlds were pillaged for crystals and metal to build the battle station, even legacy worlds like Mustafar.

My memory struggled to remember; I had heard of those, but been too ensconsed in my little world to realise what it really meant. But Erso wasn't finished, for he added:

There is a legend about how the Sith created weapons of destruction out of Kybers.

Silenced greeted that statement; the implications too deep, too meaningful for my mind to handle the double task of speaking and thinking at the same time. I should attribute the man an award for managing to shunt my multitasking, really.

My pause caused Erso to level me with a meaningful glance, then he turned the pages of my notebook, as if to signify that he had no more to say. Funny, how simple actions could communicate the world when words were too limited. As he returned to the previous page, Galen found a picture that had nothing to do with the present research. I blushed to the tips of my hair; I had doodled the sea landscape during the last meeting, too bored to keep my hands still. I had quite nothing to say to my defence, except that long demonstrations never managed to catch my full attention; they were too slow to keep my multithreaded mind busy. Drawing would occupy my brain just enough to prevent it from escaping in another world and lose track of the meeting altogether.

To my surprise, Galen's long fingers only tapped the landscape once, his eyes taking in the picture of my childhood planet.

— "Where is this?"

— "My hometown, on Tion"

I sat again, careful not to disturb the pile of datapads, trinkets and papers that littered his small desk. Galen's workspace resembled his mind. For a long time, he just gazed at the picture, and I wondered if my drawing had triggered a memory for his sadness seemed to resurface. Wife or daughter? Parents, perhaps?

— "Do you miss it?" he eventually asked.

My ambition had driven me away from the planet, but I had many fond memories of my time in Tion. From there, I kept the reddish hair colour obtained from local plants; a token of my attachment to the place that had birthed me.

— "I miss the influence of the sea. There's much water on Eadu, but nothing like the shores I'm used to."

He turned to me, his gaze softened, more open than I had ever seen him.

— "My daughter used to draw on her datapad, she invented stories."

His trust touched me, but I didn't know how to defuse this intense sadness. Hence the clumsy joke.

— "Imagination runs in the family."

— "She took the drawing from her mother."

His features hardened before I could even try to apologise, his shoulders squaring, as if to face adversity.

— "Show me the plans of the base."

I scurried away to fetch my datapad, disappointed that, once more, I had only managed to pry him open for a good ten seconds before he closed off again. I knew, somehow, that a link existed between the landscape and his need to review the plans. I just wasn't privy to it, and wasn't about to prod his mind. I had done enough damage for today.

Curiously, Erso emerged from his side office to join me at the main desk. I projected the 3D plans in front of us, and watched the little moon that would be complete in a few years. The floating hologram called the attention of Sahali who approached, probably to see what the great Erso had in mind. Several coworkers joined him, but Galen didn't seem to even notice. I wondered what they thought of him. "Haughty," some said, failing at understanding that his communication skills sometimes bordered on autism. And given he was in enemy territory, one couldn't possibly blame him anyway.

At the moment, Galen's eyes were set on the battle station, a moon-wide enough to host thousands of droids and personnel alike. Soon, it would host the mightiest weapon of the galaxy, and reach its farthest confines. The empire, then, would be almighty … and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it anymore.

— "Show me the shaft, please."

I fumbled on the layers to highlight the weapon's cone structure. The collimator itself was eight kilometres long, bringing the entire battle station to a hundred and twenty kilometres in diameter.

— "Hypermatter reactor and cooling systems"

Erso watched the plans silently, but I could see how his mind overloaded as he ordered me back and forth. One word, sometimes, his tone flat, characteristic of the man when he escaped into another dimension altogether. Galen Erso was having an epiphany, and idea so big that it occupied him entirely… My colleagues soon grew bored with our limited interaction and returned to the containment cell to continue the piezoelectric stimulation of our Kybers. Sahali was the last one to leave, sending me a harsh look; probably jealous that Erso talked to me, and that I seemed to understand what I was doing. A paradox, for I had no idea of what was happening in the genius' mind right now.

His hands were moving, his lips as well, muttering, measuring, assessing. With his tall frame, I couldn't help but watch, mesmerised by this strange dance.

— "How many cubic metres of doonium and Dolivite?"

His smooth voice called me back to reality and I blinked, finding his eyes set upon me.

— "Uh…"

— "Find the data"

He wasn't about to say "please"; communicating with me was already such an effort, to him, that I didn't drape in my dignity but jumped on the second datapad to get the information he needed. I knew enough of the man, by now, to understand that his brain worked like mine … only ten times more powerful. He needed to follow his line of thought, and would probably be there past midnight if I didn't kick him out of his office to sleep.

The afternoon was spent in a frenzy of research; I had no idea what I was looking for. I felt like providing hundreds of pieces of a puzzle without any clue to what the image should look like. It was unsettling to walk in the dark, but I had faith in Galen. He would be the light. The only issue, in this, was the aim.

Would this breakthrough be used to advance our research and put the weapon into commission? Or was it something different entirely?

When I left that night, in need of a stiff drink, Erso was still locked in his office. Would he eventually share, or leave me in the dark? I had shown no outward sign of my inner tumult; he couldn't know whether to trust me. I returned to the lab way past my sleeping time, slightly tipsy on my way to bed. As I had foreseen, Galen Erso was still there. Asleep, head cushioned by his arms amongst a mess of notes and messy doodles. I could only distinguish the bridge of his nose and his tousled hair, but the picture made me smile nonetheless. I wondered if his strands were as silky as they looked; he had such wonderful hair for a man. A mad scientist indeed. I extracted a safety blanket in the lab and gently covered his shoulders before I switched off the light.

— "Goodnight, Galen," I whispered to the slumbering man before heading out.

As I walked to my quarters, I wondered if his wife used to drag him to bed, and bring him food whenever he forgot to eat. And even if it was plain stupid – I was a rational woman after all – I swore to the dead woman that I would look over her husband in her stead. Warmth engulfed me then; I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.