Author's note: I thought of this today, and couldn't resist getting it down. I'm not likely going to write a real sequel of Jennet and Canderous' story, but flashes of their future hit me from time to time, and I might share them, if they make a good one-shot story. Writing to her newborn daughter was a very Jennet thing to do, and I thought she might bully Canderous into contributing as well. Hope you enjoy, and please read and review!

Always, LJ

My darling daughter,

I've had eight months to anticipate your arrival and have enjoyed every minute of it. I put aside this datapad to write you letters on the occasion of your birthdays, of which Aunt Visas assures me there will be plenty. I thought of this when I realized how little is left of my own mother, and how much I could have used a word or two from her during my pregnancy, and will continue to wish I had for the rest of my life. I'm not sure how much of her advice I would have taken, but having it is as important, I think, as following it. So here we are.

You're beautiful, darling. From the top of your fuzzy dark head (which I'm assured will become my own caramel blonde soon enough) to your slate gray eyes that are already hinting at being your father's bright blue, to the tips of your tiny toes, you're the most gorgeous baby I've ever seen. I do apologize for the hair, though; it's already curling. Blame your grandfather Drake for your wooly-head every time you curse it when you're tugging a hairbrush through the snarls.

I expect it will drive your father insane when the men start taking notice, but considering your family and future training on both sides, I doubt you'll have any problem fending off unwelcome attention. Not to mention an entire honor guard and half the Jedi council watching out for you. I'm anticipating that your first kiss will happen well away from prying eyes; by then you'll have long figured out the over protectiveness of your honorary Mandalorian uncles. Not to mention your father. Between us, I hope it's a good kiss, well worth the subterfuge it will take to experience it.

I'd like to apologize now for all the mistakes I'm doubtless going to make raising you. I can already see the faint line between your eyes that marks the stubbornness that you possess. I can't blame you; you came by it honestly. There will be tantrums and arguments and "Mother!"s and pouting and foot stamping. As long as being stubborn doesn't develop into foolhardiness, it will serve you well. Stick to your guns if you know you're right, but be willing to listen to cooler heads than yourself when you're unsure.

Marry a man that doesn't try to change you, and don't try to change him. Follow your heart in all things, and don't apologize for being who you are. Help people when you can, and recognize when you can't. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it. Apologize when you're wrong – it will happen a lot more than you'll like.

Listen to your father. He loves you so much; I can see him bursting with pride when he looks at you. He gives good advice, and listens well – even when it seems he's not listening at all. He remembers everything so don't try to lie to him; it's the worst possible tactic to take. Hug him whenever you get a chance, just because you love him. He'll grumble sometimes about it, but he loves it as much as you will.

Most of all, remember you're loved, just because you are. Believe in that, when things get rough. Trust in that love, and the Force, and while things won't always be easy, they will be as they should be. You're the brightest star in the galaxy to me and your dad. My life truly began when I met Canderous Ordo, and it's beginning again with you.

It will be a few years from now before you read this, I know. I'm not sure when I'll give it to you. I expect this will come to you when it's needed.

I hope I'll be a good mother, and you'll call me on it when I'm not. I love you, Helen.

You're sleeping now, in a crib beside my bed. I wish you could see yourself, all curled up on your stomach with you're little bum sticking up. The backs of your tiny ears are pink, and you have your thumb in your mouth. I can hardly believe we made you, and can't wait to experience every second of your life.

Sleep well, my darling.

Your loving mother,

Jennet

Dear Helen,

Jennet insists I write this to you, a mere day after your arrival. To the day I die, I won't forget your birth; as bloody as any battle, and more work than strategizing a twofold attack when you're outnumbered and outgunned. Jennet and Visas assure me it was an easy birth; I'll have to take their word on that. All I know is it was hours of waiting, a lot of pain, and my hand is still numb. But in the end, there was a miracle – you.

You're born of two warriors, and named for two more. I wish you could have met your grandmothers; my own mother would have adored you on sight, as would your grandmother Miranne, Jennet assures me. I never met her, and am doubtful she would have approved of her daughter marrying a Mandalorian, but that is neither here nor there. She would have accepted the inevitable, I think, and we would have gotten along well enough. From what I have heard, she was a formidable woman, which she passed to her daughter, and granddaughter.

Don't be afraid of pain; you'll experience a lot of it. But mostly, the best things happen in life because of it. Meet it head on, face it down, and you'll be better for it. Change is pain. Learn to adapt, and you'll always come out on top.

You're going to look mostly like your mother, and for that I'm grateful. A girl shouldn't have my face looking back from a mirror every day. You're as beautiful as Jennet, but it looks like you'll have my blue eyes. I'm glad I gave you something of myself. And I think you'll have the height of the Mandalorians; as tiny as you are now, there's a hint of that in your legs – long and muscular. Warrior born, and enough Force sensitivity to allow you to be Jedi, if you wish.

I hope as your father I can teach you the skills you need to survive. By the time you're old enough to join your mother and me in battle, the universe will be a very different place than it is now, I expect. I hope you'll always be able to come to me when you're troubled, and never feel like I didn't care. I'm not always good at telling people I do. But you are the most amazing thing I've ever done. I loved you from the moment I knew you were growing inside your mother, and that will never stop. Ever.

Jennet wants me to give you advice that will help you in the future. There's two things I can think of that will serve you best personally. One, when it comes time to marry, pick a man that can face me down. I won't say without fear (if he doesn't have a healthy amount of it towards me, I haven't done my job as a father) but with honor and pride, and most of all, honesty. If he loves you as you deserve, he'll be all right with me. If he hurts you, I'll hunt him down, with the entire honor guard and Jedi council behind me. If your mother doesn't get there first.

The second, listen to your mother. She might take all day to get to her point, but she's a wise woman, and she'll speak for both of us when it matters.

Don't be afraid to be wrong, but do everything in life with honor and honesty. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do whatever you have your mind set on. Don't take half measures; do it with your whole heart and mind, and you'll get along fine.

As I write this, your mother is nursing you, and it's an incredible sight. I can see the strength in both of you, and it makes me proud.

I wish so many things for you, Helen. I hope we'll give you a good life.

Love,

Dad