One Year Later

I finally found myself a job. I knew what I could do, but I never had to look for a job before, my future was always assured. The only questions were whether I'd take a Padawan or not, eventually try for a seat on the Council… well, that choice has been made for me now. I have a Padawan, whether or not I want her. Our arts need to be passed on, our history. And most importantly, who we are, what we represent. What we believe. The Emperor will take all that from the universe, but we have to be remembered the way we really were. We weren't the monsters he's portraying us as.

Keira's grown over the past year. Now she's toddling around with a huge toothy grin, and I can't help but to smile back, even though I don't feel like it. When I smile, I remember her smile. Her quick wit, her kindness, her compassion. And it hurts. It hurts worse than anything I've ever seen or experienced. Hell can't be much worse than this.

If I didn't have Keira, I would have gone mad long ago. Madness still threatens in unguarded moments, when I allow my mind to drift. It always drifts back to her… to that day.

I can still feel my fear, smell the burning flesh… hear the screams. The terrible screams as the Jedi, my friends, were slaughtered. I'm positive I was screaming too. I still feel my leg burning as the blasters burned through it, and the Force screamed.

I haven't touched it since that day. I'm not brave enough. My memory of that time is too fresh. Far too fresh. It will take years for the wounds inflicted on that day to start healing, and even then they will never fully heal. At best, they will be covered by a bandaid, and Keira is my bandaid.

I'm always afraid someone will find out my secret, a rat will catch on, and tell the Emperor. Then it'll be finished for us here. We'll have to move, and I want Keira to grow up and train in a secure environment, something I can't provide her. I wish I could.

Mon Mothma visits me frequently, supports me however she can. But she can't give me too much, or draw attention to me. We both understand. The risk is too high, for both of us. If the Emperor found out she was helping a Jedi, well, lets say the penalty for starting the Rebellion is beginning to look very attractive.

And on top of that, I'm screwed, as is Keira. I didn't save her to watch her die. And unlike her namesake, I can do something for her. And I will. Keira deserved a chance at live, and in my mind this baby is my dear friend's chance at another life. My chance to make up for my inaction. To make my mark on the galaxy, hoping my life will amount to something. That our legacy will live on. Possibly even to a new order, even if I don't live to see it.

It's enough for me to know we won't be forgotten.