Family
I glance between the two men. They're arguing as usual, petty bickering in which one tries to garner my favor at the expense of the other. Yet, that's all right. I can accept it; actually a small bit of me finds it flattering. Of course I'd never tell them that.
At different times, I have loved both of these men. Still do. Probably always will. They're more than friends, more than ex-boyfriends. They're family. My family. The one I chose, rather than was born with.
Much more so than Jacen these days; especially after everything he's put our parents through.
Travel
We've traveled from one end of the galaxy to the other hunting Alema. Jag's put his little program onto hundreds of space stations, thousands of starports, and the virus version has probably infected over a million starships.
And we three poor souls were chosen by Uncle Luke to hunt down the most promising leads out of all that data.
I think I hate traveling now. When this is over, I think I'll settle down on Ossus, maybe teach lightsaber techniques or something. I mentioned such a thing to Jag, and am disturbed at the light that's appeared in his eyes.
Food
Meal times are my favorite part of the day anymore. Whether we're sitting in some dingy cantina, the
Yet despite that, I enjoy the meals; the camaraderie. It almost feels like old times. It almost feels like life back before the galaxy went to kriff; back before the Vong.
Blessings
I stand on the flight deck, watching the battered old freighter slowly enter the hanger. One of her forward mandibles spit sparks from a graze by a turbolaser. The Falcon had seen better days, and survived worse. I have no fears at all that she'll be carting around any grandchildren I may have.
What amazed me was who my dad let fly her. Even from here I see him sitting in that pilot's seat with his back ramrod straight.
If my dad trusted Jag with the old girl, I had to wonder if he'd trust him with his little one.
Thanks
I stand over the funeral pyres, my mind blank as my hand absently rubs my stomach. Nine pyres send their flames into the black Ossosian night. Six Jedi. Two grizzled fighter pilots, and one Sith.
My jaw clenches for a moment as I once more consider just how much this war cost us. Just how much we lost. It seems that we've been losing things since Anakin died.
Yet I rub my hand across my stomach again, and I can't help but give thanks, that there are those willing to sacrifice all to save the galaxy. To save the unborn.
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