The coronation ceremony for Emperor Roan Fel took place in the same arena where they'd memorialized his father and brother three days before. The center stage had been reconstructed as something even more grandiose, with scarlet pillars rising in tiers and a great Imperial crest, twenty meters wide, lit atop them like a crown. Posted on those high pillars were a pair of stately two-dimensional portraits bearing the faces of Jagged and Davek Fel, markedly similar for their trim black beards, dark eyes, and the stripe of white hair cutting up from the forehead. A single high-backed throne sat at the center of the stage and when the ceremony began it was empty but luminous beneath bright spotlights.

On the arena floor stood ten thousand stormtroopers, shoulder-to-shoulder in gleaming white rows. Music played, thunderous and grand. When they took two steps to either side in perfect synchronization they opened a central aisle toward the throne. The first person to step down it was Empress Dowager Marasiah Valtor Fel, cradling her husband's slim golden crown in both hands. Robes of violet shimmersilk trailed behind her, and behind the robes a line of Imperial Knights processed two-by-two in capes and red armor. At the heart of that line and the center of the pageant, one man among millions, was the new Emperor.

Roan had known it would be like this. He'd stood by his mother's side as she'd planned the ceremony and made suggestions when needed, but his imagination had never come close to capturing the majesty of it.

The majesty was important. His mother had talked to him about symbols before the ceremony and not for the first time. His father and brother had died too soon after the completion of the Restoration war and the final unification of a battered Empire. The authority needed to secure his father's peace had to be swift, firm, and undeniable. A ceremony this grandiose, with millions crammed into the arena and trillions watching across the galaxy, would leave no doubt that the Fel dynasty would endure, and so would the path laid down by Roan's grandfather.

Other symbols were important. The Imperial Knights, in their scarlet splendor, drew the attention of everyone and left no doubt that the Force-users would be at the heart of the Empire for years to come. The deaths of Davek and Vitor were being presented to the galaxy as a tragedy, but not as a mistake. The Empire's costly actions at Hapes were being seen by much of the galaxy as an act of admirable boldness, in stark contrast to the Alliance's democratic dithering. Davek had told his people their liberation of Hapes would raise the Empire's moral leadership, and his martyrdom had sealed that. Roan would continue that, and was already planning to expand the Empire's influence in ways less costly. His grandfather had promoted a policy of victory without war, and Roan hoped he could bring it back.

There were symbols still. As Roan drew nearer to the throne he looked up at the images of Davek and Jagged. The thin scars on their foreheads and white stripes through their hair had been left by battlefield injuries, sustained but survived while young. Roan had taken his own grievous wounds, though not as visible. He'd nonetheless added a stripe of white dye through his hair. As it had been for the first two Fel Emperors, so it would be for the third.

When the Imperial Knights reached the stage they fanned out on either side. Marasiah stood before the throne, crown cupped in both hands. Roan paused for a moment at the platform steps and looked into his mother's eyes. For a moment he froze with all eyes on him, arrested by the enormity of what he was about to do.

Reigning for just eight years had taken visible toll of his father. At seventeen, Roan stood poised to rule for many decades. Power was draining. Power was tempting. He was acutely aware of the anger in his heart. The Sith had stolen his father and brother, and the desire for vengeance would never go away. The Sith had been eradicated, or so it seemed, but history showed they were like the worst pests, always hiding in the dark.

Even without the Sith, there would be other temptations. To withstand them he would need to rely on the people close to him: his mother most of all, but Treis and Mohrgan, the other Imperial Knights, hopefully Elliah as well. With them by his side the toll of ruling would be less harmful.

Roan clung to that thought and mounted the steps. The music mounted to crescendo. He stepped in front of his mother and dropped to one knee. Marasiah placed the crown gently on his head. It was thin and light but seemed to weigh so much. Yet when he felt his mother's faint touch through the Force he rose smoothly, proudly, and faced the assembled millions and the trillions watching from afar.

The Imperial Knights lined on either side of the throne ignited their pure-white lightsabers and lifted them as one. The stormtroopers pounded fists on armored chests and raised salutes. The crowd erupted in a messy chorus of adulation.

It was a moment of history defined. The new Emperor tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and let history become him.

-{}-

Five days after the coronation of Emperor Roan Fel, a very different pageant took place in the grand audience chamber of the Fountain Palace on Hapes. Absent were armored guards with blazing swords, thunderous marches, and assembled rows of soldiers. The emerald throne from which hundreds of Queens had reigned was present but conspicuously empty. A silver chord had been draped from arm to off, elegantly sealing it from use. The dais around the throne, while much humbler than the one the Imperials had used, was still packed with dignitaries. Empress Dowager Fel was among them, representing a son already busy on Bastion. From the Jedi Order, Jade Skywalker and Grand Master Lowbacca made an incongruous pair, and many in the audience- themselves selected from both genders, every planet, and all walks of Hapan society- had a hard time keeping their eyes off the mountainous Wookiee. From the Galactic Alliance, Kyrr Esch had come to represent the triumvirate.

Once the ceremony began- with the piping of a mere half-dozen horns- attention turned to the women who stepped onto the dais from either side. From the right came Tanith Zel; from the left, Allana Solo Djo. Both wore dresses elegant but not elaborate, and it was hard for the audience to miss the silver lightsaber attached to Allana's belt.

Nonetheless it was not for the former queen that they were gathered. When they converged before the empty throne, Allana placed a hand over her heart and recited the words they'd agreed upon. "I, Allana Djo, agree to formally pass that power to you, Tanith Zel, on the condition that you abide by all rules laid out in the new constitution of the Hapes Consortium. You will govern by consent of the Hapan people, for all Hapan people. As first President of the Consortium you will establish a Senate of the Sixty-Three Worlds and will work with its representatives to build a new future for us all. Do you swear to hold by those terms?"

Tanith exhaled, smiled, and deviated slightly from the wording agreed. "Absolutely, Your Majesty."

"Not any more," Allana whispered, smiling, and turned to the audience. "I hereby relinquish all authority passed to me by my mother Queen Tenel Ka. The Hapan monarchy is ended and the first Hapan republic has begun. I wish you the greatest fortune in determining your own fates."

The applause was instant and loud. Allana stepped away, leaving Tanith to stand alone in front of her people. When the clapping subsided she began her inaugural speech, sticking exactly to the words she and Allana had worked out.

Allana watched from her place beside the Jedi. Some in the audience kept glancing at her as Tanith began, but two minutes into her speech all eyes were where they belonged.

Jade edged a little closer and whispered, "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Allana said, "But I'm not out of a job yet. She'll need all the help I can give her."

"Still, congratulations."

Allana nodded slightly. "Thank you for coming. I know you can't stay long."

"It's my pleasure."

"You'll be going back to Zonama Sekot?"

"Yes. I'll take Nat and we'll spend some time with Kol."

It was more than deserved. Allana knew more than anyone how important it was for family to be together when it got the chance. "How much time?"

"As long as we need," said Jade, with a tight, satisfied smile.

Allana smiled too. They watched Tanith complete her speech, landing every word, and she ended with the day's most remarkable reversal, one she had suggested and Allana enthusiastically supported. It was centuries-old custom for Hapan queens to finish their addresses by commanding everyone in the audience to bow as one. When Tanith's speech was over of the people before her looked ready to dip on one knee. Instead Tanith was the one who dropped and bowed her red head in supplication to the people.

The audience froze, shocked and dumbstruck. From the back, someone started clapping. More joined in, and soon the audience chamber rocked with it, louder than Allana had ever heard.

"It looks like you've successfully passed the torch," Jade said over the din. "How does it make you feel?"

Allana wanted to say relieved, but it was more than that. The loss of Hapes had cast a heavy shadow over the second half of her life; the pressure of future rule had weighed the first half. All of that was gone now, and while challenges remained- they always would- she felt a freedom unlike anything she'd known.

No, she thought, not quite. A very long time ago, when she'd been just a child, she'd escaped from the pressure of royalty and travelled the galaxy with her grandparents aboard their old, battered, extremely un-regal tramp freighter. She'd been weighed by the past then too, her father's fall and death still fresh, but the galaxy had never seemed so fresh or full of wonder as when she'd explored it with Han and Leia.

Allana leaned close to Jade and said, "Believe it or not… I feel young."

-{}-

Sundown over the Skirata encampment at Kyrimorut was never was dramatic as sunrises, but it still had certain beauty. While the sun set unseen behind mountains in the west, the eastern sky changed smoothly from blue to gold to red to violet and finally to black. On cloudless evenings like this it was an especially impressive sight.

It was a bittersweet thing to watch sundown from the overlook where Ninet's and Dorn's helmets still rested atop waist-high stakes. Marin stood in front of Ninet's, Tamar in front of Dorn's, and neither spoke for a while. When the sky was dipping toward violet Tamar asked her daughter, "What will you do with her armor?"

Marin looked at Ninet's red helmet. "It helped me when I needed it, and I'm grateful… But I don't think I can keep it."

"You're sure?"

"I gave Nat my lightsaber. I shouldn't keep the beskar either. I never deserved it in the first place."

"Yes you do," Tamar said firmly. "You're a Skirata. You always were."

"Maybe. But I was never a Mando. I just pretended sometimes. The only time I really tried to be one…" Marin shook her head. "The thing is, I wasn't just play-acting as a Mando. I was playing as a Jedi too."

Tamar had tried to be a Jedi once and failed far worse than Marin had, but she didn't think her daughter would find that consolation. She'd also tried what Marin was about to do, live a life as neither Jedi nor Mando. It had been a lonely, drifting life. Tamar had come back to Clan Skirata having realized she'd never be a perfect Mando, but a Mando was what she'd been at the start. The life she had here was good enough; not perfect, but she was too old to waste years wandering in discontent.

She tried to figure out how to explain this, to pass some critical guidance to her daughter. Eventually Tamar said, "Wherever you go, don't be alone. You said you wanted to experience the life normal beings have when they're not playing as Jedi or Mandos or heroes with crazy bloodlines. So live it. Find people to live it with."

Marin tilted her head up watch the darkening sky. After thinking a while she said, "I've already been to a lot of places. I know a lot of people. Some of them I think I could trust. Some of them don't know I'm a Jedi."

"Then you have a place to start."

"Maybe. A lot of them don't know me as Marin Fel. I didn't want to advertise the name and give myself away."

"Understandable."

She hugged herself against night's coming chill. "They know me as Marin Solo. It's pretty inconspicuous, and still in the family tradition."

Tamar smiled tightly. "I've heard your great-grandfather was quite a rogue."

"Dad bragged about it, didn't he?"

"More than once. But Arlen isn't a rogue, even if he play-acted when he was young. I don't you're a rogue either."

"Maybe not. But still… It's a good name, isn't it?"

"I approve."

"I'm glad." Marin breathed cooling air, shivered, and said, "I think I should be going."

"Do you want to say goodbye to anyone else?"

"I think I've said all I need to."

They started back through the forest, past the main settlement, toward the small landing pad on which Marin's battered X-wing rested.

"You drop the name, the lightsaber and the beskar, but you keep the ship," Tamar observed. "Interesting choice."

"Flying pieces of junk is also a family tradition."

"You can't trade it for something more spacious?"

"Maybe. Give me a little time."

They turned to face each other beside the X-wing. Daylight was almost gone from the sky, and stars were peeking through violet dark. Mother and daughter embraced without words, then stepped away. Marin climbed up the ladder and dropped into her cockpit. Tamar stepped back and watched as the ship rose on its repulsors, fired its engines, and soared into the sky.

Tamar remained at the empty landing pad for a while. She watched the red light of her daughter's ship until it dwindled to nothing. Then she watched the sky's pure black, and the stars that marked a billion destinations. Finally, she turned for the settlement and walked back to the place where she belonged.

-{}-

When it reached the research station in Zonama Sekot's southern wastes, Jade Shadow settled gently onto the landing platform. Kol Skywalker was there to see the landing ramp lower and he rushed forth to greet his mother and brother.

He'd heard most of what had happened to them in the Hapes cluster. He knew his brother had killed a Sith and he knew his mother had been grievously injured taking down the dreaming Dark Lord. He'd expected them to look changed somehow, weary or harrowed, but they greeted him with earnest smiles and warm hugs. If anything they seemed lighter than when they'd left Zonama Sekot. They seemed more alive.

Master Veila was waiting on the edge of the platform, and Jade gave her a short hug as well. "I'm glad to see the research is still going on," Kol's mother said as Tahiri led them into the compound.

"The Alliance is prosecuting Rennis in full," the older woman explained. "And they've arranged to send two scientists to replace him."

"I hope these ones are… completely vetted."

"They have been. They're already working well with the shapers."

"I'm glad to hear it." Jade looked at her son. "How have you been helping, Kol?"

"I've been in the labs, a little. But less than I did before. Nei Rin's up in the Middle Distance. She said she has a lot to learn before she can really help this project."

"Nei Rin sounds wise."

Kol nodded seriously. "I've mostly been working on training down here."

"You mean you're getting instruction from Master Veila?" asked Nat.

"Partly," Kol muttered.

They gave him uncertain looks. It would be easier to actually show them, but that had to wait. Neither Jade nor Nat had actually been to this facility before and Tahiri gave them a short tour, letting them look in on laboratories used by the Alliance and Yuuzhan Vong scientists.

"Do you really think you can heal the whole continent this way?" Nat seemed skeptical.

"That's the goal," said Tahiri. "With Jedi, Yuuzhan Vong, and Alliance teams all working together, we make more progress than any of us could alone."

"It's what Aunt Jaina wanted," Kol added seriously.

"Still," said Nat, "We flew over a lot of ravaged land to get here."

"That's why it's a task that needs years and years of hard work," said Tahiri. "If this goes well we might even be able to undo some of the Yuuzhan Vong terraforming on worlds like Duros and Tynna."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Even Jade seemed skeptical.

Kol didn't hold it against them. He had faith in the people working on this project, but as Tahiri had said, this was a long process that would take many years. Maybe it would succeed. Maybe it would fail. As he'd said, he was doing more here than just running errands in the labs.

After Tahiri completed the tour, Kol found his opening. Once she showed them the ground-level gates that let them out of the compound, Kol led his mother and brother over a few dusty ridges, taking steps as long as his eleven-year-old's legs would allow. He could feel confusion from both Nat and Jade, but he didn't have to lead them far.

Three Skywalkers stopped at a trough between two ridges. It was a place Kol has scouted a few days before their arrival, and after bending low and clearing away some of the dust with his bare hands he uncovered what he was looking for: a stout, gnarled tree-stem jutting out of parched earth.

"Something's growing in this place?" asked Nat, surprised.

"It's stubborn," Kol agreed. "There's a lot of them here. Bora from older seedings that didn't take. But they're not dead."

"It looks close," said Nat.

Jade, though, seemed to sense Kol's intention. "What do you think you can do for this?"

"Just watch," Kol said. "This is something I've been working on."

He lowered himself to the dust and sat cross-legged. Jade sat next, on the other side of the tree sprout, leaving room for Nat. Kol's brother, resigned, dropped to the ground too.

They waited, watched. Kol closed his eyes and bent forward so his cupped hands were near the bora's dried stem. He breathed in and out and found his peaceful inner core, just like Tahiri had taught him. He felt the life all around him, just like Jaina had taught. Kol felt Nat in the Force, fresh with energy and still striving outward to a goal he didn't yet know. He felt his mother as something vast and powerful but also calmed, like the ocean in clear weather.

Against those to bright, living, powerful lives, it wasn't easy to find the faint spark of the tree, but he did. And with the Force he built a bridge, from himself and his family to the tree-sprout, and through that bridge he began to pass a little power from the greater to the lesser, the mighty to the small. As he shared of himself with the bora he shared himself with is mother and his brother, and they shared with him, and three Skywalkers and one small life were linked together as one in the Force. And as they linked Kol could feel something else: the bit of his great-aunt that had been passed into him, adding its strength too.

The link didn't last long. It didn't need to. When Kol separated from the tree he separated from Jade and Nat, and all three were alone in the Force but still warmed by each other's glow. When Kol opened his eyes he saw the bora-sprout before him, still small, humble and weak, but also enrichened by a healthy green color. Two leaves had folded out from the stalk to take in the light.

It was a small thing, but it was life. It was resilient. He looked up from the tree and examined their faces. Nat's eyes were wide in wonder and surprise. Jade's smile was bittersweet with understanding. She put a hand on Kol's shoulder and said, "That was good, son. That was beautiful."

He nodded, smiling, and looked back to the fragile sprout. In drawing healing breath from his brother and mother he'd in turn been drawing it from a line of Skywalker that went generations back and would continue beyond them as well. He knew the Force called Skywalkers to different destinies which were never easy, but they always came, and Skywalkers always had to rise to them.

Kol had no idea where his would lay, but as he looked at that fleck of life in the desert he thought he understood some of it. They said Skywalkers saved the galaxy time and again, but it wasn't true, not exactly. Empires rose and fell, war gave way to peace and to war again. Generations followed generations without end. Countless beings had lived and died without knowing or caring what the Jedi did.

Yet the Jedi, and the Skywalkers most of all, had a role to play. In giving of their power and themselves they safeguarded the life of the galaxy, fragile though it sometimes was. They sacrificed. They nurtured. They kept it resilient. It was a role passed along for a thousand generations. Kol's was just one in the link, but it was his time now.

The legacy of all who'd come before was in his hands, which meant he couldn't sit here forever. Kol rose first and brushed the dusty from his pants. Jade and Nat did the same, and they looked down on the boy with new respect. The look made him flush, embarrassed, but it gave new confidence, and when he met their eyes he couldn't keep from smiling.

"Come on, let's go back." Kol said, "We've got plenty of work to do."

END