AN: Storytime! So, I haven't been able to write all of quarantine. Until, like a week ago. And all of a sudden the Eternal WIP called to me. As it sang to me, I realized that if I do end up continuing this story, I wanted to change how some things in Chapters 9 and 10 were done. So, I rewrote Chapter 9 this week. Probably could still use some work, but I'm honestly so proud I cranked out another chapter for this baby.

So, like usual, don't get your hopes up. I have a tendency to disappoint. But for now ... I did a thing. Please enjoy.


It felt just like it had the moment he'd been born. She'd been up so long, so tired, so exhausted when Han cried out. He whooped in her ear, squeezing her hand repeatedly while she fell back against the pillows. He's here, Princess! he'd cheered her. He's here! Then, the fruit of her long and grinding labor was shown to her; he came into the world screaming and kicking but Leia's heart bloomed with love and an indescribable joy at the sight.

She felt something almost the same now, but with it was an overwhelming nervousness that sent Leia's limbs into a slight convulsion. Her anxiety and shock were only emphasized when the familiar presence suddenly reached out and deliberately touched her. She gasped aloud but only earned her husband's attention when her body smacked against the floor.


"It went better than I'd expected," Jaina surmised. "She wasn't upset or disappointed. I think she was actually happy for me, albeit a bit wary."

Kyp stood across his office from her, arms braced against his desk. He managed a deadpan expression as he responded, "Only wary?"

Jaina caught a smirk, and she shrugged. "Hey, my parents don't hate you. I think that's the best we could have hoped for."

Kyp chuckled, shaking his head. "Glad to know we're aiming high, Goddess."

"I think it just puts her on edge that we're together. She's very protective;he wants the very best for me, to know that I'm safe. She doesn't realize it, but she's been like this since Anakin died. I'm imagining how worse it might get now that Jacen's gone." She shook her head abruptly to veer herself back on track. "Anyway, it's you. She might be more used to the Kyp Durron who picked fights with Master Skywalker every five minutes—"

"Hey!" Kyp feigned an offended expression, pointing a defensive finger at Jaina. "It's been two days since our last fight!"

Jaina ignored his jest. "But you've changed. You're past that and I think she'd rather remember the old you if it's any excuse to save me from another relationship. She ...worries about me."

"Well, you were her last remaining child for— a while. I can't blame her. For any of it! What about Han?"

Jaina tried not to make a face. "He is ...taking it in stride. You know that you're a friend to him? He's trying to be the protective daddy who won't let his little girl get hurt but it's you and he trusts you. It throws him off his game."

Kyp frowned. "Am I supposed to apologize for that?"

She chuckled silently and sauntered back to where Kyp stood. Her hands wandered up his front, tickling the firm muscles of his abdomen, and he took her hands in his own. "Don't apologize," she said. "This is good, don't you think? Neither of my parents hate you! This is new to me; they both hated Jag."

"I agree with them."

With a comically sour grin, Jaina rounded up for a playful punch but stopped. She dropped her arm. "No, I think I'm starting to see the light."

"Now we just wait for the imminent doom."

"Doom?"

"Yes. We are the catalyst, aren't we? First, Jacen dies. Next, Anakin comes back. Now, I'm in a relationship with their only daughter. Your parents are tough but they have to have a breaking point."

"I don't know. I can't remember the last time something as positive as my dead brother coming back to life has happened in our family. I'm not sure that counts."

Kyp shook his head, doubtful. "I think it's inevitable. While it's an amazing thing that's happening, are you and your parents really ready to deal with everything when Anakin wakes up? Telling him everything that's happened since the Myrkr mission. Jacen— wasn't Jacen anymore, Tahiri became severely depressed, then joined up with a Sith Lord, Mara died. You had to kill Jacen."

As Kyp silently predicted, Jaina jumped to take the offense, her eyes already lighting with unmatched flames of fury. "That wasn't my brother! That was Caedus!"

Kyp held her close, gently, to reassure and soothe her. "Jay, I get that but will Anakin?" Jaina took a breath and stepped back as she understood where Kyp was going. "Not likely." She nodded. "I keep telling myself that this isn't going to be as simple or even happy as it looks, but I still don't think I get it. None of us do. If any of us have the slightest clue as to how excruciating this will be, I'd put my credits on Tahiri."

"I think she's accustomed herself to always living in a constant state of suffering," Kyp agreed. "What she feels now is the same numbing anxiety she's felt since Anakin died."

"Which means that there's no way out of this eternal battle shock."

"There is no cure. No respite. Not with everything that's happened to your family in the past several decades. There are too many ghosts, too many wounds. Even getting Anakin back can't erase all that pain."

It was one of the highest truths Jaina had come to acknowledge. While she could see the coming joy that the return of her little brother would bring the Solo family, Jaina was not naive enough to ignore the struggle that would come with it. The Vong War had forced her to grow up quickly and Anakin's death had been the catalyst of her transformation from the young girl who dreamed of flying for Rogue Squadron to the battle-weary woman who had helped win the war— the mock Trickster goddess, the Sword of the Jedi. That was a sister Anakin hadn't yet met.

Grandfather's downfall, my grandmother's unexplained death, Alderaan's demise, Jacen's downfall, Mara's sudden death, the death I planned and delivered to Caedus. None of it will ever leave us. These tragedies will always haunt our family for generations on.

It was the Skywalker inheritance, Jaina supposed. Whether her family had chosen this path or fate had chosen them, it was all just inevitable. Joy and pain and relief and suffering. They all came in one big package. Whatever came would have both its highs and lows. Every delight in life had its price, but Jaina suspected such an extreme high required an equal price in return.

"Hey." With his thumb, Kyp prodded at her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "This isn't going to be easy. You and I both know that. But don't let the workings of the dark side distract you. Don't let the pain and suffering take over you. Your brother is alive, Jaina. He'll need you."

She fell in his embrace, slumped in his arms, head buried in his chest. There were no words to express what she was feeling, the ride between joy and the thousand fears plaguing her. There was no way to prepare.

It was inevitable— the pain, the suffering, the old ghosts coming to revisit.

Why was the inevitable only negative?

Jaina wasn't sure how long she remained in Kyp's arms, his grip tight and sure around her small body. She could have been sleeping for how much it startled her when her comm suddenly beeped in her pocket. She sighed, unclipping it from her belt and pressing the answering key. "Solo." Kyp took hold of her hands, steadying her.

"Jaina," Han's tired yet alert voice responded. "Hey, sweetheart. You might want to come back down to Anakin's room."


He'd only visited Eclipse Base's medward a few times, but he was sure this wasn't it. Though, it was, quite clearly, a medroom. Just what facility, he had no idea. The air in the room was considerably fresh, not so muggy as he recalled. The lights were near blinding, and he immediately shielded his gaze. A natural warmth from outside blanketed the room just comfortably, more akin to the heat of a sun than an indoor heating unit.

Anakin allowed himself a moment's rest while his eyes adjusted to the overwhelming light before he tried looking around more. White ceiling, clean white walls, a cool gray counter along one wall. When he couldn't find any valuable clues, he pitted his elbows against the bed and pushed himself into a sitting position with too much effort. Groaning in pain, he only managed to pull himself up a little before he gave up. He fell back against the mattress, panting and huffing from the effort and the pain it shot up his side.

He glanced to his right where there was a viewport looking to a sunny outside; Eclipse's medrooms didn't have viewports. Decorating the viewport's sill were dozens upon dozens of vases of flowers and cards. More piles consisted of gift baskets of fruits, candies, and pastries. Others yet were piles of fresh clothing, a few with tags still attached. Most came with hand-written notes or letters, 'Get well soon!', 'Welcome back!' and 'We've missed you!' written excitedly on each one.

Between Anakin's bed and the viewport sat a reclining chair with a white Jedi robe slung over the top and a blanket draped along its stretched length. There was nothing else of note. He dropped his head back, still grimacing from the pain in his side. He clutched a hand to the spot, now holding his ribs just above his hip. Right, he remembered with another grimace. That wound. He turned his neck, groaning into the pillow beneath his hide as he waited for the flaring pain to ease.

"Relax," a soft and soothing voice suddenly broke through Anakin's awareness and he looked up to see a pale, shaking Chadra-Fan standing just inside the doorway. "Please lie back down. You were critically injured and your body requires rest to heal."

"Tekli?" His voice croaked from disuse.

"Anakin," the small creature gasped. "You need to relax." She started forward, a hesitant first step. Like, she was afraid of getting too close.

Realizing he wouldn't get anywhere if he didn't first obey, Anakin relaxed into the mattress and let his limbs hang limp. "Tekli? Where are we? What happened?"

Slowly, his friend seemed to relax just the tiniest bit as she approached his bedside. She carried a flimsipad on one arm but set it down and held his gaze, offering little comfort for his anxiety. As if he wasn't wary enough of his foreign surroundings, Anakin had never seen his friend exude such nerves; her black beady eyes were wider than Anakin thought he'd ever seen them, and her mouse-like ears perked up, unusually alert for their rather calm atmosphere. Typically, Tekli was known and admired for her remarkable poker face, the constant state of peace which she always conveyed; certainly a key benefactor to her skills as a medic. But Tekli's anxiety was starting to give Anakin anxiety, and he got a grip on himself just soon enough so that he could call upon the Force for comfort and remain levelheaded. While he was at it, he extended his senses generously, cautiously searching for any threat. The only anomalies he could find were a handful of presences about as anxious as Tekli. Deciding Tekli was his best source to get some answers, he did as she had asked and relaxed where he lay.

Just as his own breaths resumed a regular rate, Tekli appeared to relax, and she played with a controller until Anakin's bed eased him into an upright seated position. "How do you feel?" she asked, barely meeting his gaze. "Are the painkillers working for you?"

"Considering the beating I got from that mob of Vong, I'd say I'm feeling as good as can be expected."

That seemed to get Tekli's attention, and she stood rather still now, staring at him. She managed a few steps closer to his bedside. "So, you remember that. The fight in the grashal."

Anakin nodded. "Did they knock me out right then? I don't remember anything about when we got out."

Tekli silently stammered for a response, and Anakin swore he could see her two hearts beating harshly in her chest. "Tell me, Anakin," she managed. "What all do you remember? What is the last thing that you remember?"

Anakin resigned himself to the conclusion that Tekli would not be answering any of his questions until he answered hers. Subconsciously, he reached a hand to brush the wound in his side. "We were nearly to the queen. I could sense her. A whole mob of Vong were there to greet us. Tesar got hurt— injury here. You were staying with him, trying to heal him in the middle of the fight. I was on the other side of the grashal, away from the rest of the team. Jaina was going to come help me, and I told her to keep going. I … I killed most of the Vong who came after me. But then there was Nom Anor in the grashal too. I threw a detonator at him, and …"

"And?"

The room was nearly silent, except that he was hooked up to a dozen or so machines, an IV line stick in a vein just below his wrist, a clip attached to his right index finger. But they all pronounced him healthy (for the most part)— the clearest one proclaiming life, beeping along with his even heartbeat.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

"I don't remember."

Tekli took a seat beside him, silent for a moment as if letting him reflect before she pushed him any further. "Nothing else?"

No, there was more to it, more than Anakin thought he recalled. But the few extra seconds he saw flashing through his mind looked and felt more like dreams than reality, yet they were so vivid. He felt fire, his body on fire, but much more pleasant than the sheet of pain that had enveloped him. This fire strengthened him, ignited him as he raged on, heart pounding, head roaring. For those few seconds, he was invincible. He raised his lightsaber toward the Vong warriors in defiance, and the Force didn't simply flow through him but became him. Or, he became it. More than just becoming the blood rushing in his veins, the marrow in his bones, or the nerves beneath every muscle. His mind was overcome by unmatched power, wisdom, and instinct. It guided him, the light side of the Force. It possessed him until he was part of it and the two could not be separated.

"I was one with the Force."

Tekli didn't seem half as surprised as he was as he voiced that memory. She didn't so much as nod as she gave him another moment to recollect. "I saw, Anakin. I saw you, saw the Force take you to become part of itself. You incinerated every Vong who came close. You didn't need to reach for their soft spot under their arms. They had no chance against you. You saved the rest of the team."

Anakin turned his head to look at her. "Then, what happened? What happened when I fell?"

Those last few seconds flashed through his memory again. The flames that nearly came from him, the raw and untapped power erupting from his mere presence, the thousands of ancient voices that had seemed to call to him as he forced his way through the ranks of Yuuzhan Vong. And the feeling of passing hands … reaching out to brush the hands of everyone he loved— brushing his sister and brother's hands, his parents, Uncle Luke's, Aunt Mara's, the rest of his team's, Tahiri's … Like a goodbye.

His gaze fell to the polished floor, a mirror of the drop he felt in his chest.

"I am not sure you would believe me if I told you."

"Tell me, Tekli." His voice came out hoarse this time, gruff and weary.

For the first time since she'd seemed to regain her courage, Tekli looked away. "I think there are some other people who want to see you and would rather they be the ones to explain."

Anakin's gaze flew to meet hers. "Explain what? Have I been in a coma?"

"Anakin, relax. Please." Tekli rested her palm against his shoulder, and Anakin was minutely aware of the Force pulses emanating from her hand to make his body obey. "Anakin." Her voice was more soothing this time. Her words washed through him like gentle waves on the beach. "Your parents are on their way here. I am sure they would appreciate knowing you are awake. I will get them for you, and I think they would prefer they talk to you first."

Anakin tried to fight, but Tekli relied on her own strength this time. As she pushed him down by his abdomen, Anakin wondered if she was pressing his injury on purpose as he rolled over groaning, and Tekli slipped out without his notice.


Where was he? What had happened after he'd fallen? What had happened with the mission? Tesar had been injured. Was he okay? Jaina— gods, he hoped she hadn't done something stupid when he'd fallen. Or, whatever had happened … Had they gotten the queen? … Had they lost any more before they made it out?

Out. He was out, wasn't he? Where was he, again? Oh, gods. He was about ready to pray to Yun-Yuuzhan or Yun-Yammka or a number of the Yuuzhan Vong's various gods if he thought it would help. At this rate, he almost dreaded hearing what there was to 'explain'.

What had happened since that last harrowing moment he remembered? Why were they no longer on Myrkr? How long had it been? Had they been successful? Or had his team been overwhelmed by the Yuuzhan Vong forces and had been defeated by them? Was the galaxy now living in oppression under the Yuuzhan Vong? He imagined planets greener than Felucia but overtaken with Vong forestry, living ships, living armor, no droids, no technology. What had happened? How long had it been? The same questions burned through Anakin, igniting every cell in his body with more and more fear. A Jedi knows not these things, Anakin heard his uncle's voice quoting Master Yoda in his head and he forced himself to take in a long, calming breath. He looked to his arm where his fluid drip was attached, listened to the soft beeping of monitors behind him. Technology. So, Vong couldn't be anywhere near.

He was further comforted when he felt it.

Well, them. Anakin became aware of two glowing Force presences he'd recognize anywhere. His parents. Though they felt different, but Anakin figured he could only imagine the worry they'd felt while waiting for their children to return home. Regardless, he knew those were his parents, and it brought him more relief than he thought it would to feel them close by, to know he would get to see them again.

Of course, they were familiar, but they felt so— different. He tried to push all the doubt away. His heart swelled with relief at the familiarity and he smiled before he brought his gaze up to see two people he hardly recognized. There was his father, but he looked older, more haggard, more weary. His eyes were softer than Anakin had ever seen them and he swallowed thickly when Anakin met his gaze. His mother stood right at Han Solo's side, her hand in his, but she almost looked like a completely different person. He recognized the woman as his mother by her loving and warm eyes but was thrown off by the foreignness of her hair being cut to her shoulders with more shots of gray than Anakin remembered. Even her eyes bore a soberness that disconcerted him— a pain that seemed to be buried deep within the woman, simply emanating from a dark place that hadn't been there the last time Anakin had hugged her. They both looked so much— older, wearier, simultaneously emptier and fuller. No, these couldn't be his parents, couldn't be the galaxy-famous Leia Organa and Han Solo.

Something shattered in both of their gazes when their eyes met. Anakin had imagined falling into his mother's arms in relief upon his and his team's return, but his parents didn't say anything— hardly moved!— and Anakin felt too lost to say the first word.

They were locked in a staring match, Anakin trying to find the answers— any— in his mother's near blank stare. Her dark, mournful eyes, they said so much, yet so little at the same time.

"Anakin!" His mother was the first to break the odd silence that had descended upon the moment and Anakin relaxed his confused, perturbed expression to look at her more gently, letting his relief triumph the chaos his mind refused to let go. Tears dripped down her cheeks and her jaw shook with silenced sobs before she let go of her husband's hand to step forward. She didn't rush to embrace him but rather took a tentative step forward, then another, and another until she could reach him. Their gazes still locked, Anakin for one still unable to break out from the tension, she dropped into the chair at his side, a tremor wracking her small body. With hands so shaky they almost seemed frail, she reached out to him.

Dark, dark eyes. Clouded in a deep sadness Anakin didn't remember being there. But a new strength too. Maybe, nothing had broken in her or his father. Maybe, that had been strength, new courage she was bolstering up. Had he done this? Him, his brother, and sister leaving their parents to sacrifice their lives? He supposed that would do it. No, he didn't think anything in his mother could break, but a greater light seemed to return to her eyes as she took him in. Her fingers danced against his cheek, they shook so terribly. Until she opened her hand to his cheek. Her gaze wandered for a moment, following her touch as she caressed his face, brushed his chin. Like she was trying to recognize him. Anakin wanted to take hold of her, fold her up in a great hug, and give her whatever assurance it was that she needed. She ran a hand through his hair, attempting to brush through the wild curls, and it was so normal that Anakin couldn't help but beam. Pain still thrummed in his side, but he was strong enough to mumble, "Mom."

Then, something in his mother either broke into a hundred shattered pieces, or all those pieces came together, and she was finally there. Finally full and present. Then, she just became hysteric. "Anakin!" she sobbed, squeezing him in her arms, one hand wrapped tightly around the back of his head. Her other arm had come around his back and was caught tightly around him. Too tight. He relished the warm feeling of being cuddled in his mother's arms but his body flared with pain that he had forgotten and couldn't help the yowl that followed. Leia jumped back, her eyes frantic, crazed. She raised a hand to her mouth, fresh tears leaking from her eyes. Only then did Han come up to her side.

Tekli hurried forward from behind them. She played with his fluid drip while Leia took a hesitant step forward again. "Oh, stars," she murmured. "Kriff! Anakin ..."

Anakin shook his head. "It's fine, Mom." Immediately following his reassurance, he thought he heard her squeal. "I'm fine."

His parents traded a nervous look.

"I upped the dosage on your painkiller," Tekli was now telling him, drawing his attention away from the two unfamiliar figures at his other side. "If I gave you anything heavier, I would be worried about you not being very lucid. I think your questions deserve answers."

Anakin acknowledged the note with a short nod, quickly looking back to his family, trying to fill in the blanks. His mom and dad, looking so much older, like so much of life had passed without Anakin. Their demeanors. And, hey— where were his siblings? Without meaning to, Anakin made that last question verbal. The looks of his parents only grew more shocked. "Mom? Dad?" he asked, his voice quivering, losing the strength he usually maintained. Something was wrong. Something was off. "What happened? Where are we? What happened?"

Leia's gaze softened and she returned to his side, walking around the bed to take a seat beside him. She took his hand and grasped it between both of her own. Han stood just behind her, seemingly still too afraid to get too close. But they both stared at him like he was a ticking detonator on display.

Was something really off about Anakin's surroundings? Or was it something about himself that was off?

"I'll leave so you can talk," Tekli said and quickly slipped out.

Anakin immediately turned his gaze back to his family. "Mom? Dad? Please say something."

Anakin looked to his father who, along with his mother, was crying. The sight unnerved him further. "Hey, kid," he whispered, reaching out to gently squeeze Anakin's unharmed shoulder. "We've missed you."

"Missed me?" he frowned in confusion. "Did I almost die?"

Leia flinched. Han stiffened.

"Mom!" Anakin shouted with more force. "Dad! You have to tell me. What happened? How long have I been out?"

Leia reached out to comfort him again, her hand going to caress his cheek then squeeze his shoulder. "Oh, Anakin."

"Take it easy, kid," his father tried. "You're in pretty rough shape."

"Something happened. Just tell me. Please. Tell me what's going on."

Grimacing, his father began, "Yeah, you were out, kid. For … a while."

A while. He could have laughed at that. That told him nothing. "Could you be more specific?"

They traded another look again, a kind of look Anakin was having a hard time deciphering. Anakin watched his mother's expression, lips pursed in anxiety. When he caught her gaze again, they deepened into a sympathetic frown. "What do you last remember? Do you remember the mission?"

He nodded. "Myrkr. I remember everything about Myrkr." His heart clenched at the memories. "We lost both of the Hara sisters. And Ulaha, Eryl, and Jovan."

In his peripheral, he saw his mother nod. "I know, honey."

It went quiet again, save for the medical equipment buzzing around him. But, fierfek, the memories! The pain, the fear.

Imposter! Trying for pens!

"We're not on Myrkr anymore."

"No, Anakin. You're safe now."

You need to help Tekli!

"The mission …"

"It was a success. You're a hero."

I'll be along!

"The queen …"

"The queen is dead, Anakin. You saved the Order."

"We did it?"

"You did it."

The images in his mind flashed and he saw his friends, the rest of his team. Tekli kneeling over Tesar, pressing her hands to his chest, slapping his face, trying to get him up. Jaina, his own sister, screaming from across the grashal, tears running a path down her dirt- and blood-caked face. Lowie fending off the attack, roaring in defiance as he pushed on. Tahiri … stars, Tahiri and that helpless look on her face, the devastation, the strength she pulled together for him.

No. For that, you have to come back.

"What about the rest of the team?"

His parents were both silent for another moment. "Jaina is here. She wants to see you. Maybe, you should talk to her about the mission."

"Mom."

"Jaina was there with you. She knows—"

"I'm not asking for a military debriefing, Mom. I want to know who all made it back."

"Just in here," Tekli's voice suddenly returned, and Anakin looked up, startled, to see another familiar and yet foreign face. Jaina.

His big sister appeared appallingly older. Though she still brimmed with life and many more years ahead of her, she looked older in a mature way, in a physical way. Besides that, she looked much more mature in the other way as well. Like a spark of wisdom had suddenly come upon her. She didn't look like the teenaged older sister Anakin remembered. She looked like a battle-weary soldier who had learned to live with the life that had been handed to her.

Myrkr had been hell. But this … Hell didn't do this to a person.

Further, she somehow looked even more like their mother. Especially when her face fell and they both had a moment longer to take the other in.

"Anakin?"

Jaina. Kriff, he was so relieved to see her. She was bruised and cut up, bandaged wrapped around her neck and arms and one high up on her forehead, but she was alive and, damnit, Anakin had never been so relieved.

Unlike with their parents, there was no hesitance in her step, and she swept forward to join him on his bunk and crush him in her arms. It hurt so kriffing bad, so terribly, but— gods, Jaina was okay! She'd made it too. He'd never been so relieved before, and he would happily endure an eternity of the physical pain she was causing him if he could keep the rest of this moment too.

"You made it," he muttered, squeezing back as much as he could, but he realized his strength was not quite there. "You made it, too."

Jaina let go at that moment. She looked at him, her brandy eyes aflame. "You were worried about me? Anakin, I swear— I swear, if you ever do that to us again, I swear …" But she broke off, lost all control. Anakin couldn't remember any other time he'd seen his sister cry so hysterically as she did now, throwing herself back into his arms. "Kriff, Anakin. You're never leaving us again."

"Leave?"

This time, Jaina exchanged a look with their parents. "Have you told him?"

No one said anything.

"Jaina, you have to tell me about the mission. You have to tell me what happened."

"Anakin. What's the last thing you remember?"

As he'd told Tekli, he patiently repeated to Jaina, "Myrkr. The grashal."

"What else? Tell me everything that was happening."

Anakin swallowed on a desert dry throat. "Raynar is gone. Lomi and Welk— they— they're gone. Tesar was out. Tekli was trying to wake him. You and Tahiri didn't want me to go. But I insisted. You were angry at me for going. And Tahiri. Tahiri was—" He couldn't find the words so he shook his head and continued. "I saw Nom Anor. I threw a detonator his way, pushed it to a cargo pod..." He stopped there.

"And?"

Anakin's gaze flicked back up to meet Jaina's. "I . . ."

"If you remember, tell me."

"I don't . . ."

"You remember. You know what happened."

Anakin shook his head, his chest locking up with pain as he tried to force those last seconds back.

"Anakin," Jaina spoke his name quietly but firmly. "You tell me what happened."

"I was one with the Force." He heard his mother suddenly utter a shrill sob and she covered her face with her hands as Han wrapped her up in his arms. "The Yuuzhan Vong practically disintegrated when I passed."

"And then?"

"After I pushed the detonator ...I don't remember. That was ...the end."

"The end of what?"

Anakin blinked. "I don't know." He sighed. "Jaina, what happened after that? What happened to everyone else? Where are we? This can't be Eclipse."

She sighed. "This isn't Eclipse," she agreed. "We're on Shedu Maad. It's— a new base for the Jedi. The mission is over."

"And?" Anakin pressed her. His patience was wearing thin.

"We won, Little Brother."


Careful words. Very careful. She carefully wrapped her words in truth, leaving out what none of them were prepared to say. If she was careful enough, there didn't have to be any more pain today.

"Jaina, what happened after that?" Anakin asked. "What happened to everyone else? Where are we? This can't be Eclipse."

She sighed. "This isn't Eclipse," she agreed. "We're on Shedu Maad. It's— a new base for the Jedi. The mission is over."

"And?" Anakin was pressing her.

"We won, Little Brother."

"The mission?" He frowned at her odd choice in words..

She shook her head. "The war." Anakin's frown deepened. "The war is over, Anakin. We won it for you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Anakin ...You died." Jaina watched his gaze move to their mother who was caught in their father's arms, shaking, sobbing. "Mom, Uncle Luke, me and Jacen. We all felt you go. I know, it sounds insane but it happened. And we had to live through that. You died, Anakin. When Nom Anor was watching your detonator, you died. We brought your body with us when we left. We held your funeral on Hapes. Uncle Luke put your body on the funeral pyre. You were dead, Anakin."

She saw the conflict flash across Anakin's face- the confusion, fear, hesitance all painted clearly. He shook his head, a small movement so quick Jaina nearly missed it. He opened his mouth, exhaled, but no words came. Jaina didn't have any either.

Leia leaned toward her son and held his face in one hand. "I had to mourn you," she explained, stroking her thumb along his stubbled cheek. "And that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. My boy. My baby boy. But you're back. You're home again."

He shook his head. "I don't understand. This doesn't make any sense. I—"

"None of us understand," Han told him. "None of us have been able to make sense of this. All we know is we lost you so long ago but now you're back and we aren't wasting that."

"It's a lot," Leia admitted. "Maybe you'd like to hear what's happened since Myrkr first?"

"Like what?"

"Well, is there anything in particular you want to know?"

It was hardly a moment's breath before Anakin responded with his first question. "How long has it been?"

Leia swallowed but supplied the answer. "Anakin, it's 41 ABY. It's been 14 years since the Myrkr mission."

His face dropped. He looked at his parents again, at his sister. The new streaks of gray in his mother's hair, the laugh lines creasing his father's face, the newfound maturity that hed gracefully settled on his sister's shoulders. No, hell didn't do this to a person. Time did.

"No," he managed to mutter. "No. No, the mission was just— just … "

"Anakin," Leia tried to soothe.

"That's impossible!"

"Anakin."

Jaina's gaze flicked from Anakin's fearful eyes to the monitors above his bed to her mother's concerned gaze and touch.

"Anakin, honey, please—"

One of the monitors started to bleep and Leia shot to her feet. She laid her hand against Anakin's cheek and even Jaina felt the sudden rush of love, reassurance, and relief which their mother was sending to Anakin. Against her efforts, the warm feelings filled the room, becoming the mother's new aura rather than the focused stream she was trying to channel. It still held the same effect and Jaina couldn't help but relax, shed the tension weighing down her shoulders as she felt the gentle onslaught of her mother's love for her and her brother.

Despite all this, however, Anakin's distress was growing. Unintentionally, he was fighting back against Leia's efforts and his fear was overcoming his mother's love. Jaina saw the strain of concentration mixed with worry in her mother's brows, saw how they knitted together with her own fear. "Anakin." Her voice was firm, but her touch grew lighter, fingers feather brushing against his face. To aid her, Jaina made it a meld and joined Leia in calming Anakin. Then, she saw what method her mother was turning to rely on. It was memories— of Anakin.

Sensing the renewed strength of Leia's assurances, Jaina thought she'd have the upper hand but Anakin's panic was wearing on her and she came to the start of defeat when Jaina gently shoved her mother aside, pressed a few fingers to her brother's temple, and summoned him to sleep. At once, his head slouched back against the pillows and his eyelids fell shut. Leia and Jaina stepped back in the same moment, the mother nearly panting.

"Well," Jaina said shortly, "we weren't ready for that at all.

"He just needs time."

"No, Mom. What he needs is the truth. And soon. I think there's nothing better we could do for him than just hit him over the head with it."

"No! It's been over a decade and he thinks the Myrkr mission was just yesterday. I can't do that to him!"

"How long will it take to gently ease him into everything? It'll hardly take him a day to start wondering where Mara and Jacen are."

"Leia, she has a point," Han tenderly said, still sitting behind her. "He needs to know soon. I don't think there's any gentle way of easing him in."

Jaina didn't want to be harsh, but she tried to convey her point straightly, firmly. "He needs to know what happened to Tahiri, what happened to Aunt Mara, what happened to Jacen. It isn't going to be painless but we need to get it over with."

Leia allowed herself the shortest sigh before she nodded once. "You're right. But I'm not going to throw anything on him at once. We'll let him ask and we'll tell him the truth."

Jaina nodded back. "I think that's the only good way to go about this."


The next time Anakin woke, his mom was the only one in his room. Leia Organa Solo sat at her son's bedside and Anakin laughed to himself when he realized that his mother was tousling his hair slowly, playing with his curls between her fingers. When she saw that he was awake, she smiled gently, moving her hand to brush over the long waves. "Good morning."

He groaned, waking himself to full awareness. "Morning?"

"Dad brought you breakfast from the cafeteria if you're ready."

Anakin nodded and Leia helped him sit up. With much effort on both their parts, Anakin came to sit up straight and Leia pulled a tray over his lap and set down a plastistill box. She opened it for him, took out the fork which came in its own wrapper. She poked it through the packaging and set it in the box, mixing the crunchy greens that sat beside a standard cafeteria gorba melt. "You looked like you were in a lot of pain making just the smallest movements," she noted gently as Anakin began lifting his arm and winced. "Cilghal wants to know how badly it hurts."

"I'm alright, Mom. It's not that bad."

Leia didn't seem eager to take that answer, however. She looked at him for a moment, her brown-eyed gaze flashing with empathy. She sighed, taking his fork and cutting his food into small portions. Anakin smiled to himself.

"When Jaina came back from Myrkr, I needed to hear about it. I felt your pain before you died but I needed to hear from Jaina how bad it was. When I saw your body— I didn't want to think about your last moments. I didn't want to think about how awful it was."

Anakin's ear caught at those words— this was his mother's own testimony of his death. She felt it. And if anyone had it would have been her. Leia seemed to notice his reaction because she looked back up to smile uneasily at him. "I felt it, Anakin. I'd been praying that I would never have to feel that in my life and it hurt so bad when I did."

"No promises," he muttered with less bitterness than one would have expected.

His mother actually laughed, but with less amusement. "No, no promises. You know that Dad and I couldn't have been prouder of you? We never stopped crying, mourning over you but we were always the proudest parents when the HoloNet had remembrance stories on you. You died a hero, Anakin. I always knew you were destined for something bigger than I could imagine."

"I didn't want to hurt you and Dad by going to Myrkr."

"We know. Honey, when you died— the part that hurt your father the worst was that he was afraid he might have hurt you when he shot down your plan at Eclipse. If that had been one of his last conversations with you … "

"I know that he was only worried about—" He stopped abruptly, his own heart tearing in empathy for his father— both of his parents. Despite what little his family had told him earlier, it was sinking in and Anakin was coming to realize the truth of it. Nom Anor. The detonator. Then everything just stopped, was no more. That had been the end. The end of his life. "Losing us."

Leia didn't respond. Finished preparing his meal, she set the fork in the container and set it on his tray. "There. Eat up."

Anakin couldn't ignore the rumbling in his stomach, begging for something to fill it, but he was hardly in the mood to eat. A thousand questions still littered his head. His last memories being of his friends locked in a frantic battle, in pain, hurting, in fear, morale low; he needed to know what had happened. Forget his own resurrection, he just wanted to know how the mission had gone after his eyes had closed. He needed to know if they'd really won, if Tesar had woken up, where Raynar had gone, if anyone else had fallen. Had any other lives been lost executing his brilliant plan? How much death had he caused?

And Tahiri. Where was she now? How was she? Was she okay? How was she handling the effects of her uncompleted Shaping? She'd had a hard enough time when Anakin had stayed with her to help her heal. Had she healed?

And, he supposed, what had happened to the galaxy, to his family over 14 years?

All these questions, fears, locked up inside of him. He needed to know, couldn't wait another moment to ask. He needed to know right now. Anakin was preparing to ask about the outcome of the Myrkr mission but surprised even himself when her name was the first thing to spring to and from his lips.

"Tahiri," he said, quickly, suddenly, breathlessly. Startled, Leia's gaze returned to him with a flick. She straightened up, leaning forward slightly. "Tahiri," he repeated as the impact hit him head-on.

Of course, the mission's outcome mattered greatly to Anakin and he feared what other losses and struggles had befallen the team, but his chest and throat locked up in fear for the fate of his best friend— no, the young woman he'd been falling in love with. As soon as he admitted that to himself, a hundred more fears clogged his mind and he wondered in anxiety, had she moved on, discarded their last years together as a first crush, left all those memories of nervous kisses and childhood friendship coming to mean something more? Anakin didn't think he could handle that. He missed her, yearned to see her, to know for a fact that she was unharmed. He needed her.

No— for that, you have to come back. Her tears dissolved him.

Take her, Jacen. Kiss Tahiri for me.

His eyes began to sting while he waited in heavy anticipation for his mom to respond but he hardly cared, hardly even connected the dots to realize that he was on the verge of tears in his fear.

Leia's mouth fell open in empathy and she reached out to brush a thin trail of tears from his cheek. "Tahiri," he managed to get out one more time, his voice rough and thick with his grief. For a moment, Anakin thought she was all that mattered. "Tell me she's okay."