The Lore of Enduring Solace

"It has been two years. Two years since Order 66… but that day still burns behind my eyes.

When the clones turned, it was so sudden. One by one, our masters fell—taken by surprise. I still remember screaming as my Master Force-pushed me onto an escape shuttle packed with younglings. There he stood alone as the legion closed in.

He refused to cut them down, for he sensed the betrayal was not their own. Even as they fired upon him, he saw them as comrades, not targets. But when they called in their LAAT to shoot our shuttle down, his hesitation vanished.

He planted his feet, ignoring the pain as a blaster bolt seared through flesh, and thrust his open palm toward the gunship. The air seemed to crack as he wrenched its massive engine free. The resulting explosion was blinding. It swallowed the bridge, the clones, and my Master in a wall of fire.

It was only yesterday that I finally mustered the courage to return to that fateful site. There it was—the LAAT’s wing, still lying jagged in the crater. As I walked the perimeter, I caught a faint glint in the debris. As if it were calling to me, I instinctively reached out… and to my astonishment, an object flew straight into my hands.

Its surface bore burnt scars interlaced with the wear of time, no doubt from years of exposure to the elements. Yet the markings were still unmistakable—precise geometric lines reminiscent of the Coruscant Temple’s great hall, etched across the hilt. This was my Master’s Korvus lightsaber.

And as though in defiance of death itself, his kyber still glowed faintly within. I pressed lightly on the activation switch and in an instant, the ruins around me were washed in a brilliant green spectacle.

To me, my Master lives on. And in remembrance of his unyielding spirit, I have named this lightsaber the “Enduring Solace”.

Because his sacrifice didn’t just save me—it saved the younglings. It bought our future. For even in the darkest of times, hope does not burn out."