Life on Bogano gradually settled back into its familiar rhythm.
The excitement that had followed the raid against the Imperial convoy slowly faded into memory. For several days, every meal had been accompanied by retellings of the mission. The children had demanded to hear how Sebul had crashed the Gryffindor into an Imperial transport. Ahsoka and Quinlan had corrected the story repeatedly, only for Sebul to exaggerate it even further the next evening.
Eventually the tale became just another favorite story around the dinner table.
The newly acquired Imperial transport also ceased to be a spectacle.
During its first few days on Bogano, nearly every resident had found an excuse to visit it. The children had explored every corridor they were permitted to enter. The Nightsisters had wandered through its massive cargo bays in amazement. Even Master Yoda had taken an entire afternoon inspecting its engineering decks with quiet curiosity.
Now, however, the giant vessel simply became another part of the settlement.
The Jedi children resumed their daily training beneath Master Yoda and Obi-Wan's guidance. The Nightsisters returned to studying magic under Veyra and Harry. New homes continued to rise near the lakeshore while expanded farms stretched farther into the surrounding fields with every passing week.
Bogano continued growing exactly as Harry had always hoped.
Only one person refused to return to anything resembling a normal routine.
Sebul.
Harry had predicted it the very moment the stolen transport settled onto Bogano's soil.
Everyone else finally realized he had been right.
The pilot had, for all practical purposes, moved into the ship.
Every morning, long before the first rays of sunlight reached the settlement, Sebul was already aboard the enormous vessel. With a battered toolbox hanging from one shoulder and a datapad tucked beneath the other arm, he wandered from deck to deck accompanied faithfully by little Rollo, who somehow managed to carry spare parts nearly twice his own size.
Every evening, long after the children had gone to bed and the lights inside the village had begun disappearing one by one, faint glows could still be seen deep inside the engineering sections of the transport.
The sound of welding torches, grinding tools and cheerful humming became part of Bogano's nightly atmosphere.
At first Winky refused to believe the situation.
She prepared a comfortable bedroom inside the settlement, complete with fresh blankets, clean clothes and food for several days.
Sebul never used it.
Three days later Winky finally climbed aboard the transport to drag him home herself.
Instead she discovered that the former officer's quarters had somehow been transformed into Sebul's personal residence.
His blankets had already been moved.
His clothing had been neatly folded inside the lockers.
His collection of tools occupied half the room.
Even his favorite old chair now stood beside the small viewport overlooking Bogano.
He had officially relocated.
Winky simply sighed, muttered something about stubborn mechanics, and thereafter started delivering meals directly to the transport.
One afternoon Harry decided to see just how serious the situation had become.
Carrying a basket prepared by Winky, he climbed aboard the transport and followed the familiar sounds of metallic banging echoing through its corridors.
He eventually found Sebul hanging upside down inside one of the engine compartments with only his legs visible while Rollo carefully held a welding torch exactly where his master instructed.
Harry leaned against the doorway and watched the strange scene for several moments before speaking.
"You know," he called out, "most people sleep inside houses."
Sebul's muffled voice echoed from somewhere inside the engine.
"I do."
Harry slowly looked around the engineering deck.
"This is a ship."
"It is now my house."
Harry couldn't help laughing.
"I knew this would happen."
A moment later Sebul slid backward out of the compartment, landing neatly on the deck. Grease covered nearly every inch of his face, and his clothes looked as though they had survived a small explosion.
Instead of looking exhausted, however, he appeared happier than Harry had ever seen him.
"You don't understand," Sebul said seriously.
"No?"
The pilot turned toward the massive engine and affectionately rested one hand against its housing.
"Listen to her."
Harry blinked.
"'Her?'"
"The engines."
Sebul's expression became almost reverent.
"They're beautiful."
Harry stared at him for several long seconds before slowly shaking his head.
"You've officially gone insane."
Rollo produced a series of electronic whistles that sounded suspiciously like agreement.
Sebul immediately pointed accusingly at the little droid.
"Don't encourage him."
Harry set the basket beside the toolbox.
"Winky sent food."
Sebul looked genuinely surprised.
"Oh."
"I forgot lunch."
Harry folded his arms.
"You also forgot breakfast."
Sebul frowned thoughtfully.
"...Did I?"
Harry simply sighed.
"You really do live here now."
"I really do."
He sounded absurdly pleased about it.
Harry merely laughed, leaving him to his beloved engines.
Some battles simply weren't worth fighting.
While Sebul devoted every waking hour to restoring the enormous transport ship, life elsewhere on Bogano remained wonderfully peaceful.
Harry threw himself into another project.
One he had wanted to complete for a very long time.
His own lightsaber.
Not one taken from a defeated enemy.
Not one recovered from a battlefield.
His own.
Something crafted by his own hands.
The discovery of Bogano's kyber crystal had changed everything.
When they had first uncovered the deposits beneath the planet, everyone's first instinct had been to gather as many crystals as possible. Such treasures were unimaginably valuable throughout the galaxy.
But after several expeditions into the riverside, they had reached an unexpected conclusion.
The deposits beneath Bogano were vast.
Far larger than anything their growing settlement could possibly consume.
Even after collecting enough crystals for future generations, the deposit still glittered with kyber stretching far into the darkness.
More importantly, Harry had absolutely no intention of selling them.
Kyber crystals were not ordinary minerals.
They powered lightsabers.
Starships.
Ancient superweapons.
In the wrong hands they could bring unimaginable destruction.
Harry refused to become the supplier for future wars.
Instead, enough crystals were collected to power Bogano's workshops, laboratories, greenhouses and every future building they intended to construct.
The remaining caverns were left untouched.
Protected by wards.
Hidden beneath the planet.
When Harry explained his reasoning, Master Yoda merely nodded.
"Greed," the old Jedi Master said softly, "leads to darkness."
Harry smiled.
"We already have everything we need."
Yoda's ears twitched approvingly.
"Wise, that is."
So instead of mining...
They began creating.
The largest workshop on Bogano was transformed into a lightsaber forge.
Long wooden worktables stretched across the room. Every surface had been carefully organized.
Emitter matrices.
Power cells.
Activation switches.
Crystal chambers.
Grip casings.
Focusing lenses.
Tiny precision tools.
Each component rested neatly in its proper place.
Most of the materials had been quietly acquired over the past several months by Obi-Wan through trusted contacts scattered across the galaxy.
Nothing that would attract Imperial attention.
Just years of careful preparation finally bearing fruit.
When the children entered the workshop that morning, they stopped almost immediately.
Luke's eyes widened.
"So..."
He looked toward Harry with barely contained excitement.
"...today?"
Harry smiled.
"Today."
The room instantly erupted into whispers and excited murmurs.
For years they had practiced with enchanted training sabers Harry had created through magic. They glowed like genuine lightsabers but carried no lethal blades, allowing children to learn safely.
They had always known real lightsabers would come someday.
That day had finally arrived.
Master Yoda slowly walked to the front of the workshop.
The room gradually became quiet.
He rested both hands upon his cane before speaking.
"A lightsaber..." he began softly, "more than weapon, it is."
Every child listened.
"It represents a Jedi."
"It reflects its builder."
"Built with patience."
"Built with purpose."
"Built with yourself."
Even the youngest Nightsister children seemed captivated.
Harry walked toward another table where dozens of carefully selected kyber crystals rested upon soft white cloth.
Every crystal possessed a different color and personality.
Blue.
Green.
Yellow.
Purple.
White.
Orange.
Even several unusual crystals whose colors none of them had ever encountered before.
Harry smiled.
"No one chooses a crystal."
Several children looked confused.
"The Force does."
One by one they approached.
Luke paused before several blue crystals.
For a moment Harry thought he would select one.
Instead Luke's hand moved farther down the table until it rested gently upon a green crystal.
The crystal glowed warmly beneath his fingertips.
Luke smiled.
"It feels..."
He searched for the right word.
"...comfortable."
Yoda nodded.
"Chosen you have not."
The old Master smiled.
"Chosen you were."
Friga discovered herself drawn toward a brilliant yellow crystal.
Krigo selected a deep blue one that almost seemed to shine beneath the workshop lights.
Several of the Nightsister girls instinctively reached for white and pale silver crystals without hesitation.
The Force simply guided them.
Meanwhile Harry quietly studied the remaining crystals.
Several seemed to call softly toward him.
Yet one continued drawing his attention more strongly than all the others.
An orange kyber crystal.
Unlike the brilliant blue and green crystals surrounding it, this one radiated a calm, balanced warmth.
Neither light.
Nor darkness.
Harry picked it up.
The crystal pulsed once inside his palm.
Almost like a heartbeat.
Nearby Quinlan noticed.
"Orange?"
Harry smiled.
"It feels right."
Quinlan nodded thoughtfully.
"I think it suits you."
Around them, work gradually began.
Obi-Wan patiently demonstrated how each internal component fit together.
"There is no hurry," he reminded them. "A rushed lightsaber becomes a dangerous lightsaber."
Luke, who had already begun reaching for several tools at once, immediately slowed down.
Harry chuckled.
"See?"
"I wasn't rushing."
"You absolutely were."
Luke grinned sheepishly.
"...Maybe a little."
Soon the workshop filled with quiet concentration.
Metal clicked softly together.
Tiny tools scraped against polished casings.
Occasionally someone raised a hand.
"Master Yoda?"
"Hmm?"
"Why won't this fit?"
Yoda examined the piece.
"Upside down, holding it you are."
"Oh..."
Embarrassed laughter followed.
Another child approached Obi-Wan.
"My crystal doesn't fit."
Obi-Wan smiled after a brief glance.
"It does."
He gently rotated the chamber.
"You've simply placed it backwards."
More laughter filled the room.
Meanwhile Harry worked differently from everyone else.
Instead of assembling one lightsaber...
He built two.
Each hilt developed simultaneously beneath his hands.
Elegant.
Simple.
Perfectly balanced.
But each also possessed a specially crafted locking mechanism built into the pommel.
Eventually Quinlan wandered over.
"What exactly are you making?"
Harry silently lifted both hilts.
With a satisfying metallic click...
They locked together.
Quinlan's eyebrows rose.
"A double-bladed saber?"
Harry shook his head.
"Not exactly."
He disconnected them again.
Holding one lightsaber in each hand, he smiled.
"Normally I'll fight like this."
Then he connected them once more.
"But if necessary..."
He ignited one blade.
A warm amber beam extended outward.
Then the second.
Twin orange blades burst to life in opposite directions.
The workshop was bathed in brilliant golden-orange light.
Every conversation stopped.
Luke stared with open admiration.
"You can switch between both styles whenever you want?"
Harry nodded.
"Depending on the situation."
Even Obi-Wan stepped closer to study the unusual construction.
"I've never seen a design quite like this."
"I wanted flexibility."
Quinlan sighed dramatically.
"Now I'm jealous."
Harry laughed.
"You only have one lightsaber."
"I've noticed."
Quinlan looked thoughtfully toward the remaining components.
"I think..."
He smiled.
"...I'll build another."
Obi-Wan chuckled.
"Planning to imitate Ahsoka?"
Quinlan grinned.
"No."
He pointed toward Harry.
"I simply refuse to let him have all the interesting ideas."
Ahsoka, who had quietly entered the workshop halfway through the lesson, folded her arms.
"Two lightsabers require twice the practice."
Quinlan looked entirely unconcerned.
"I've got time."
"You've also got entirely too much confidence."
"I definitely have that."
Hours slipped by almost unnoticed.
By evening every table held unfinished lightsabers in various stages of completion.
Some were nearly finished.
Others consisted of little more than carefully arranged components waiting to be assembled.
Nobody seemed disappointed.
Building a lightsaber had never been something completed in a single afternoon.
It was a journey.
One requiring patience.
Reflection.
Growth.
As the setting sun cast warm orange light through the workshop windows, Harry looked quietly around the room.
Luke smiled while polishing his emitter under Obi-Wan's guidance.
Master Yoda patiently corrected another child's grip assembly.
Quinlan and Ahsoka were already debating the advantages of dual lightsabers versus staff configurations.
The gentle glow of dozens of kyber crystals illuminated smiling faces filled with hope.
Outside, the distant sounds of Sebul enthusiastically arguing with one of the transport's engines drifted faintly across the evening air.
Harry smiled.
Peace.
For the first time in many generations, a new generation of Jedi was not preparing for war.
They were learning.
Growing.
Forging lightsabers that reflected not only their connection to the Force, but the people they hoped to become.
Looking around the workshop filled with children, teachers, friends and family, Harry realized this was exactly the future he had dreamed of creating when he first came to Bogano.
And for the first time in a very long while...
That future no longer felt like a distant dream.
It had already begun.