Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy.

F. Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940)

He came to, suddenly and painfully. It wasn't so much the pain of his injuries that pierced his awareness. No, that he could have dealt with; physical pain was his servant, not his master. The pain that almost paralyzed him, as he sat on the cot in his chambers of the Galactic Alliance frigate, was the chilling pain of death. He felt the truth of it in the force. A part of him, a part he hadn't even known was still there, wanted to curl up in the fetal position and just lay there on the cot, while the fallout of what happened came and went. Jacen Solo knew that to be childish and absurd but what surprised him the most was the fact that such a puerile part of him still existed. After all, in all humility, he considered himself world weary and wizened by experience and hardship.

He overcame his self-induced paralysis with a choked sob, which escaped him before he even realized it. He cursed himself a fool and tore the sheets off his body. He was surprised to find himself sweating. The cool recycled air of the ship hit his chest and seemed far colder than it was. Goosebumps appeared on his flesh as he jumped out of bed and hit the cold steel floor at a dead run. He used the force to grasp his clothing from the clothing hooks along the wall and dressed himself while running, and half-stumbling, through the corridors to his destination: the ship's medbay. He nearly ran over a startled looking lieutenant. The soldier hollered something after him, but he paid her no heed.

His body was still recovering from the injuries he had recently sustained in his battle with Lomi Plo and her Dark Nest and, as such, his limbs and joints protested his uncaring use of them in their fragile state. He briefly considered what this all meant for his visions of the future but brushed those thoughts away. He finally reached the lift that would take him to the medbay. Luckily the doors slid open just as he arrived and he breathed a sigh that was a mixture of gratitude and profound grief. When his eyes caught the large crate inside, he almost howled in rage. He had a feeling that if he delayed any longer, the tragedy that had occurred would only be compounded further.

The soldiers responsible for the obstruction were slowly pushing a repulsor-lift that carried some unknown cargo. They were lazily joking back and forth while pursuing their menial task. They had been stuck with the night-shift after all or at least what had been designated night-shift, out here, in space. Jacen threw himself into a foot first barrel role and used the force to assist his leap and trajectory. He flew above the cargo sled and below the lift door's ceiling, and braced himself midair to keep from suffering any injury when his feet hit the wall of the turbolift. Using the force and a physical shove against the lift's ceiling he came to a landing on his feet. The navy troopers looked at him with what amounted to confusion and awe, neither sentiment one which Jacen had time or patience for. He shoved the repulsor lift down the corridor with a strong push of the force, and hit a button on the elevator's selection panel. The door closed against the soldier's exclamations of protest, sealing the two inside with him.

Jacen leaned back, while a part of his mind recognized that his jumpsuit was inside-out when he caught his reflection on the lift's polished walls. He looked haggard and his eyes were bloodshot. It momentarily intrigued him that he could ponder something as minute as his appearance in the face of horrible tragedy. The elevator finally came to a halt and the moment the doors slid apart he heard commotion in the medbay. With force enhanced speed he moved towards the sound of voices, leaving the two shocked troopers in the lift behind him. One of the voices that he was rushing towards was pleading.

"Master Jedi, please," the voice implored, "you mustn't be up. You're exacerbating your condition…"

The sound of his voice trailed off as Jacen rounded the corner leading to the room it was coming from.

"Get out of my way!" a voice as cold as ice warned whoever had been speaking.

Jacen caught site of the situation a moment later as he entered the setting of the confrontation. Mara Jade was clutching her lower abdomen, were the shatter gun pellet had hit her kidney. She held an ignited lightsaber in her hand and was holding it threateningly in the direction of the doctor, who held his hands out in front of him in a sign of surrender. The twi'lek was obviously at a loss. He did not understand why he was being threatened and was trying to calm Mara down. Jacen spotted a figure laying vertically across Mara's bed. Whoever that was had obviously tried to stop Mara from leaving, prior to Jacen's arrival at the scene. Tried and failed.

Jacen's entry caused the doctor to turn half-way around. His eyes were wide and he was obviously afraid. A spark of recognition passed through his eyes immediately.

"Ah Jedi Solo, I'm glad you're here," he began. "You're aunt is trying to leave and—"

"Why don't you let me take care of this," Jacen interrupted, his voice bellying his lack of confidence in his ability to take care of anything.

The doctor glanced towards the unmoving figure draped over Mara's bed. "But my assistant—"

"GO!" Jacen commanded forcefully, using the force to augment the urgency already present in his tone. The doctor immediately turned and fled the scene.

Jacen met his aunt's eyes for the first time. Behind the determination that was so often present in her eyes, he detected something else . . . it almost looked broken. Jacen lifted his hands away from his belt, where his lightsaber hung, trying to put her at ease, mimicking the stance of the doctor that had just left. "Mara I know how you must feel—"

He regretted the words the moment they had left his mouth.

"Don't you dare!" Mara spat vehemently. "It's not like there's a precedent for this in your life, oh so wise wanderer. And if that's your idea of comfort . . . I have to tell you you're bedside manner is atrocious," she winced, the hand clutching her abdomen shaking. "You've no idea what I'm feeling right now. Oh force…" her determined expression broke for a moment, and Jacen saw a tear rolling down her cheek. But just as fast, her expression hardened once more. "I don't even know what I'm feeling, so how can you, or did your five year sojourn include a stop at a grief counseling seminar?"

Jacen took another step towards her, his hands still held out before him.

She scoffed at his approach. "You know I know what you're doing right?" Mara asked rhetorically. Her lightsaber tilted towards him sharply coming to a stop a few inches from his chin. "Is this the part where you ask me to put my lightsaber down?"

Jacen looked at her empathetically. It suddenly struck him how long it had been that he had utilized his natural empathy for anything. "Could you please put you're lightsaber down?"

Mara laughed hoarsely, but it turned into a sob almost immediately. Her façade suddenly broke down as tears began to stream out of her eyes. Her lightsaber clattered to the floor and Jacen rushed towards her, catching her in his arms before she collapsed on the ground. She instantly buried her face in his chest and Jacen felt tears start to spring to his eyes as well, at the sound of her muffled sobs.

He had spent so much of his time, recently, trying to battle impending dooms, visions of horrible futures and contemporary horrors alike, that it was only now, with this unforeseen tragedy striking, like lightning out of a clear blue sky, that he suddenly felt utterly foolish for thinking himself capable of preventing anything. It didn't help that he had warned him not to go. Jacen came to the stark realization that he had thought him eternal, untouchable. Like something out of the storybooks. And now that foolish misconception that he hadn't even realized that he'd been harboring was dashed to the ground, shattered like so much broken glass. To see his impervious aunt in this condition was hitting him almost as hard as what had happened to cause her loss of composure. If he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that he was utterly unsure as to what was going to happen now. He felt as though the galaxy had lost its conscience.

Jacen sensed a new arrival to the scene, before he heard the person enter. Jacen turned his head slightly to acknowledge the person's presence. Mara didn't make any movements to show that she had noticed as well, though he assumed that was more a lack of caring than actual obliviousness. An older man, perhaps sixty years of age with an insignia denoting him as captain had entered the room. He held his hat in his hand and looked doleful, and Jacen felt the emotions he was wearing to be sincere. Jacen realized that he, himself, must look completely out of character with tears rolling down his cheek. He nodded towards the newcomer, hoping it would spur him into doing whatever he had come to do, though Jacen was pretty sure he knew what that was.

"I'd come to relay a communiqué we'd just received, but it looks like you've already…" he trailed off, unsure how to finish the statement. He stood there for a few moments saying nothing, until the flash of Jacen's eyes roused him out of his silence. "I just wanted to say that your family has my deepest and most sincere condolences. The Alliance has lost its greatest hero today, at least in my opinion, and I know many soldiers share my esteem. Especially veterans."

It took those words, said by this serious career officer, in that somber tone, to drive the truth home in Jacen's heart. His uncle, Luke Skywalker, the rebuilder of the Jedi order and Hero of the Rebellion, was dead.