Lord Darth Yoda - I really do see where you are coming from with the criticism, and its appreciated. I think that I wanted so desperately to write something where Sascha and Nara are just friends that if I kept repeating it, than it would be true. I should have just trusted that the readers 'got it' instead of stressing over and over again that Sascha and Nara aren't interested. A mistake, looking back at it. Actually you don't sound mean at all when you point out things you don't like - its a nice thing to have in a consistent reviewer. As for the positives, I do think exploring where Jedi come from is something that goes impossibly unexplored. I mean are no Jedi curious about their families? We'll see some of Sascha's parent's book in the little pre-chapter quote, and I do think we'll see them in the story, albeit briefly.

Speechbubbleme - I admit that Sascha and Nara's relationship draws from my own friendships. In high school I had a bunch of male friends, but the person I confided in was a girl that was smart and tenacious but also deeply troubled (my worries were really stupid compared to hers). So I do know how to write a male-female friendship...because I was in one.

Revanchanism FTW - Thanks for the review, love the creative name! It's a very good point that you make and I actually changed this chapter slightly to reflect on it. Thanks for the feedback - it sometimes spurs me to make changes for the better

A/N - I'm still sick somehow...but the Star Wars Rebels Season 3 mid-season trailer made me feel a bit better #hype

Anyways please enjoy the next chapter.

Chapter 48: Grieving

"I think it caught both of us by surprise. We'd discussed what we would do if our child was discovered to have a learning disability, or a birth defect, or any of a thousand incredibly rare scenarios. Never once did we discuss what we would do if our son was discovered to be a potential Jedi. It was simultaneously the best and worst news possible, because we knew that our child would be destined for a life that was beyond any of our wildest dreams. Yet, we also knew that we would be able to share in little of that."

"What do you do with a child that you know will only be yours for a few years? You love him of course, with everything you have."

-Excerpt from 'My Son, the Jedi' by Donah and Robry Whitestar

As evening set on Ubrora, Arslan Ivalice watched the crowd in the main square gradually grow larger and larger with some apprehension.

He knew that there was some percentage of the crowd that were just here to see the 'spectacle' of a public funeral, but most were here to pay tribute to a fallen daughter of Bontha. And some saw it as a passive protest against the droid army and the Mandalorians that were increasingly aggressive in their means of putting down the resistance forces. Arslan would take all of them, because this night was not his, no, he had a role to plan, but this night belonged to Lirri Boikana. Her strength. Her courage. Her spirit. Her life.

It broke his heart beyond words to know that Lirri was resting lifelessly in a closed casket on a raised brier just a short distance from him. Arslan had developed something of a tiny crush on Lirri, even though she was massively out of his league looks wise, and he was a fair bit older than Lirri had been. He had never said anything about it, because it hadn't been the time, or place to discuss such emotions. He doubted that Lirri had seen him as anything more than a competent organizer, but it had given Arslan a post-war fantasy to strive for.

Arslan shook his head and fought back tears. It was just such a massive shame, everything that had happened. But he knew that Lirri would want him to carry on. So he would, because while he had never sought the spotlight, he knew that sometimes, common men like him were asked to do things of great importance.

The crowd continued to amass in the square, it now looked like a the crowd for tonight would be large indeed. A large crowd to celebrate the life of a fallen hero. Arslan knew that he was taking a massive risk in being here, there was a distinct chance that some Mandalorian would show up with a bunch of droids and start arresting people. Or worse. Yet it was a calculated gamble, for if their enemy did attempt something like that, the average citizen may, finally see that if they do nothing that their freedoms will be taken from them.

Sekac ambled over beside him, looking as mournful as he had when he brought back the news of the ambush to the resistance headquarters. The normally quiet former hunter had been even quieter than usual since he learned of Lirri's death, and every attempt that Arslan had made to converse with him had been met with stony, resilient, silence. Everyone grieved in their own way, Arslan knew, but it didn't make it any easier to watch people that he had come to care about so obviously in distress. Maybe Sekac would come back around after the funeral.

Arslan was somewhat amazed that he and the people around him could be moved to feel such a loss anymore, after everyone had gotten used to dealing with death and loss. But that was the power of a larger than life figure passing away and for better or for worse, Lirri was larger than life.

Sekac noticed Arslan looking at him, but said nothing, he simply sauntered away slowly, obviously trapped in his own thoughts, his own grief.

A few moments later, Arslan tapped on his comlink, it looked like the crowd wasn't growing any bigger, so it was time to start the proceedings, "Dirkal, lower the lights." After a couple of seconds of hesitation, the lights that had been lighting Lirri's elevated briar dimmed. Arslan waited for the crowd to be silent, collected himself and then marched solemnly to the small speaking platform that had been erected for the occasion.

As he looked out over the crowd, he quelled his nerves, public speaking was something he'd never been fond of. Interviewing was fine, because that was usually a private setting, this was anything but a private setting.

"Good evening," he began, his voice cracking. That was not the start he had wanted.

Arslan psyched himself up again and began anew, "Good evening." Now his tone was strong, vaguely confident. Good enough. "As you know, we are here today celebrating the life of Lirri Boikana, daughter of Murgo and Sena Boikana, brother of Parv Boikana."

He paused respectfully for a moment, "The position of speaker at a public funeral like this is traditionally given to the person with whom the deceased created their greatest achievement. It humbles me beyond words to think that Lirri had chosen me to speak for her. I, personally, don't consider myself to be worthy of such an honor, but as a representative of the resistance, I will do my best."

"I only knew Lirri Boikana for a short amount of time, so I will leave the stories of Lirri's formative years to those who can better speak of them. So I will start her story with her time in the resistance." Arslan paused again, this time for dramatic effect.

"The first time I saw Lirri Boikana, she was holding a blaster rifle. I suppose that is only fitting," he said wistfully. "The two young Jedi, Sascha and Nara, were recruiting for the resistance and they had set up an impromptu firing range. Everyone else was a horrible shot. But not Lirri. No she stepped up and fired that thing like it had been made for her, like it was part of her arm." Arslan smiled ruefully, "I suppose at that moment, I realized how special she was."

"Her acts of heroism were so numerous that they almost became pedestrian. They ranged from simple acts, to something you would see in a holomovie. I could sit here and regale you of these stories until the sun comes up and we would all be better for it, but I'll tell just one story that was emblematic of Lirri, to give you a picture of who she was, and perhaps more importantly show you who we lost."

"I don't exactly remember when, but at some point a few weeks ago, the two young Jedi, Sascha and Nara, pulled Lirri aside and told her that she possessed the same talent that they had, that she could have become a Jedi. Obviously, she had none of their training, but she was determined to learn the basics."

"Every night, before she would go home for the night, she would go over the materials that the Jedi had given them. I glanced at them briefly, they were just histories and the very basics of how to use what the Jedi called the Force. Despite the fact that we were fighting for our lives every single day and getting very, very little rest, Lirri would still dedicate hours to learning all that she could. Eventually she started practicing."

Arslan shook his head ruefully, "It looked ridiculous. Lirri would sit on the floor and try to do the things that she had just seen the Jedi do earlier today. Things like sensing incoming projectiles, sensing emotions or moving objects with the Force. Lirri and I decided that the easiest way to test her progress would be to have me blindfold her, then lob a ball at her, and see if she could swat it away, much like the Jedi do with their lightsabers." He chuckled slightly, "It is good that the ball I lobbed at her was soft, because she missed ninety nine percent of the time. At least at first."

"I think at first Lirri was upset at herself for not learning how to do this impossible task after practicing for a couple of hours. That was why she never got better at doing it at first, I think." Arslan paused for dramatic effect, "Then after one very hard day, Lirri and I went back to my apartment, and she did not want to practice, she said that she was tired and that practicing was the last thing she wanted to do. So, I decided that I would whip the ball at Lirri's back without warning. Lirri turned slightly and caught the ball. It was amazing. But it could have been a fluke, so we tried again."

"I can't lie to all of you and say that she was able to parry everything I threw at her. But she was able to block the ball half the time I threw it at her. I knew at that moment that we had something really special. We had Ubrora's first Jedi."

Arslan got emotional, but was able to keep his voice clear, "We only got a glimpse of what Lirri could have become. Maybe she burned so brightly that it was inevitable that she would eventually burn out. Some say that the four Jedi have been sent here in our our of need because of some sort of divine providence. I say that the fate of Ubrora lies where it always has...with Ubrorans! Let us be like Lirri and look within ourselves to find our true potential!"

Arslan took a moment to calm himself down, and wait for the polite applause to end, "Many will say that I should not make this political. And perhaps they are right. But I knew Lirri Boikana, and I knew that she dreamed of a free Ubrora. It is my pledge that I will keep fighting for that future."

Arslan wiped away a tear, gently. "That is just one story about Lirri Boikana, and you will hear many more about her very soon. But if there was a reason that you thought that Lirri was special, you weren't wrong. She was."

Half a world away, Aurine Brynar and Tiplee had been watching the funeral of Lirri Boikana. After Arslan's speech, they had simply turned it off. It had been enough of an emotional roller-coaster for both Jedi Knights.

The war continued to take its toll on both her and Tiplee. Aurine had always viewed herself as someone who put herself on the front lines, so that others did not have to. But now, the tables had turned on her, and she was not liking it one bit. She didn't like the idea that she had to preserve herself for another time, and let others meet their enemy on the field of battle. Intellectually, she knew that she was doing the right thing, but the disconnect between theory and practice was eating at her.

"We should talk to the Padawans, while things are quiet in Bontha," said Tiplee.

Aurine nodded in mute agreement. She knew that Sascha had taken the news of Lirri's death hard. She also knew that Sascha and Nara had invested a lot into making Lirri into someone that could have managed the entire resistance, and now with that no longer an option, it would be up to the Padawans to once again be leaders. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure if they were up for it anymore, with them being physically and perhaps more importantly, emotionally drained.

Aurine and Tiplee slipped surreptitiously into a quiet room. Aurine closed the door behind them and then used her comlink to contact Sasch and Nara.

After a couple of rings, Sascha answered the call. "Hi Master," said the obviously fatigued voice of her apprentice.

Aurine waited for Nara to respond or offer a greeting, but the Togruta's silence spoke volumes. Eventually, Tiplee said, "Are you there, apprentice?"

"Yes, Master," replied Nara quietly.

Aurine and Tiplee shared a worried look. While Sascha seemed…subdued, Nara seemed like a shadow of her former self. Tiplee had mentioned that Nara had seemed to have been a bit more affected by Lirri's death than Sascha, which Aurine found surprising, but she was seeing, or hearing, the evidence of that right now.

"We were both very saddened to hear that Lirri Boikana died," she said, her tone as comforting as she could make it.

"You have our condolences," added Tiplee, "I know you were close with her."

Another long silence passed, and without the blinking light on Aurine's comlink indicating that the transmission was still ongoing, she might have thought that the call had been ended.

"Why did you call?" asked Sascha.

Aurine frowned, "We want to check up on you. How are things going?"

Yet another long pause, finally Sascha's voice came through, "What do you want me to say, Master? It's a disaster over here. The resistance is a shell of its former self and it was never all that strong to begin with. Nara and I are tired out of our minds and I've lost count of how many resistance members have died during the fighting. Lirri was supposed to hold it together, but now she's…gone"

"Stay strong, Padawans," said Tiplee, "You only need to hold out for a few more days. I hate being cryptic, but we are working on a solution to our problem."

Sascha and Nara both laughed, but it was not a laugh of amusement, it was a laugh of bittness, of resignation. "We aren't going to last a few days, Master Tiplee," said Sascha.

An icy claw reached out and grabbed at Aurine's heart, "You can do this, Padawans. Do not give up hope."

"Give us something to hope for then!" Sascha yelled. "I can make empty promises to our resistance fighters, but I was hoping that I might get some honesty from you. We need HELP, Master."

"Careful with your tone, Sascha," she warned.

Sascha released a long breath, "I'm sorry Master, I just…I don't know what I'm doing anymore. We are so out of the loop that we have no idea what is happening at your end. You can tell us to hope, but Nara and I need more than that to go on."

"Why are we even fighting?" asked Nara, her voice a whisper, "I don't want to fight anymore."

"It's okay, Nara," said Sascha softly, comforting, and Aurine imagined the two of them embracing lightly, "We can still do this, if we do this together."

"Together," said Nara, her voice slightly muffled.

Aurine grimaced, she had been sensing a deepening of the bond between Nara and Sascha for some time now and it seemed like only a matter of time before their relationship became something more than it should be. Tiplee hadn't seemed particularly concerned by the fact that the two Padawans had established a very strong bond, maintaining that Nara wasn't interested in Sascha, at least not in that way. But with two young people pushed to the brink, it would only take one moment of weakness for things to push things into attachment. For all Aurine knew, it had already happened.

"Just a few more days," she promised, trying to gloss over her insecurity, "There are plans in motion that I can't speak to you about. But trust me when I say that it will all be over soon." One way or another, knew Aurine.

"Trust in the Force," chimed in Tiplee.

"The Force didn't help Lirri," Nara said pointedly.

"Perhaps, it was her path to sacrifice herself as she did," Tiplee replied.

Neither Padawan seemed soothed by that answer. Aurine didn't blame them. "Master…" said Nara, "I'm going to go lie down. I just…can't keep my eyes open anymore…so tired..." Nara's voice trailed off.

"May the Force be with you, Nara," said Tiplee.

Nara murmured something unintelligible. Sascha, graceful as ever, said, "Just one moment while I help Nara, I'll be back."

Aurine turned to face Tiplee, whose face was taut with emotion. The Rishati, once she noticed that she was looking at her, returned her expression to one of cautious impassivity, but it was sobering to see Tiplee lose control, however briefly.

"I'm back," said Sascha. "What else did you want to talk to me about?"

"We just called to check in," replied Aurine, "And to offer you condolences about the passing of Lirri Boikana. Do you want us to try to get some supplies to the Resistance? It sounds like you could use the help."

Sascha sighed, "I don't suppose you have a spare army you can lend us?"

"Unfortunately no," replied Tiplee, "But we could send the Ubroran Rangers to support you. They are Ubrora's elite commando unit. I've fought with them, they are excellent."

"We'll take any help we can get," Sascha said immediately.

Aurine eyed Tiplee warily, they had not agreed to undertake such a move, but she supposed that she saw the sense in sending the Ubroran Rangers to Bontha. "We'll get them moving before nightfall," she pledged. "Is there anything else?"

"I'm worried about Nara," Sascha said bluntly. "I get the sense that she's just barely holding on to her sanity...and I don't know what to do. We barely leave each other's side anymore. I think it's only our connection in the Force that sustains us."

Aurine and Tiplee shared a worried glance. "Perhaps you should keep her to non-combat roles," Tiplee suggested.

"In a perfect world, I could do that, Master Tiplee, but I need her too," he admitted. "I'm just about out of people here I can rely on, and Nara is still the best fighter in the resistance. These Mandalorians must know we are on the verge of being broken, I can't imagine they'll let up the pressure. I need Nara by my side."

"Do you think Nara is falling to the dark side?" asked Tiplee quietly.

Aurine was very surprised to hear Tiplee broach that question, but she supposed that the Rishati did have the strongest connection to Nara.

"No," said Sascha after a short pause, "She's just…going away, little by little. All these traumas she's experienced, watching people die, being in charge of people that have died…she's not handling it well. She's already had a couple of minor breakdowns that I've been able to pull her out of, but if something else goes wrong on her watch…she might just break. She's weak right now, Master Tiplee."

Tiplee stared downwards, obviously emotional, "You can be her strength, Sascha."

Sascha's voice broke, "I'm trying to be there for her, but I have a limit too, Master Tiplee."

Aurine spoke up, "Perhaps it may be best if you sent Nara back to us…"

"No!"

Stunned a bit by Sascha's quick and uncharacteristically rude rebuttal, Aurine stared at the comlink for a long moment.

"I apologize…Master," Sascha managed to say, "I just meant that if Nara goes, I don't know how long I can last alone."

The two Padawans have become far too attached to each other, realized Aurine. "Maybe I should ask how you are doing, Sascha?"

"I think…If I start thinking about me, I'll lose whatever is keeping me propped up. I don't know, maybe I'm having a mental breakdown too," he laughed bitterly.

Aurine wracked her mind, trying to think of how to respond to that. She came up empty.

"Just a few more days, Sascha," said Tiplee, "Just focus on that."

Grateful for the Rishati's intervention, she managed to find words to speak again, "You are doing brilliant work Sascha. Remember, the Force will always be your ally."

Aurine imagined Sascha bowing his head respectfully like he always did after receiving praise, "Thank you, Master. Listen, I should go to sleep as well, I need every wink of sleep that I can get."

"May the Force be with you, my Padawan," she said.

"Goodbye, Master." With a click, Sascha signed off.

Aurine closed her eyes, hoping that this had all been a bad dream, hoping this was just a really advanced test at the Jedi Temple, hoping that somehow she would just wake up.

She opened her eyes to see Tiplee peering at her in concern. She turned away to try to conceal the tears that she were coming, but her friend just gently turned her around. The Rishati pulled her into an embrace. Aurine resisted for a moment, and then just…lost herself, pouring out all her tears on Tiplee's shoulder. Tiplee held her silently, waiting until Aurine could find her composure again.

Aurine sniffed and pulled away, using her good hand to wipe away some tears, "I guess that was coming," she said.

"I do not think less of you for reacting that way," said Tiplee. "As Jedi we can control emotions, but that does not mean we have to bottle them up. It doesn't mean we should bottle them up."

Aurine bowed deeply, respectfully, "Thank you, my friend," she said.

Tiplee clasped her shoulder, "I only ask that you will return the favour one day."

Aurine nodded. Truth be told, balling her eyes out for that quick moment had been good for her. She had been repressing too many emotions for too long. Now she felt oddly energized, ready to solve all the problems that were confronting them.

"It seems that our Padawans are struggling with their assignment," Tiplee said in a quiet tone. "Can we recall them back here?"

Aurine hesitated, "I mean we can, but it's a disaster if we do. The resistance in Bontha is barely holding on, and if it stops being a threat, all those droids that are currently patrolling in Bontha can be added to the droid army. Simply put, the impact that Sascha and Nara is having in the city is disproportionate to their actual threat. They just need to survive and keep the resistance a threat for a few more days."

Tiplee shook her head softly, "I don't like this. We are treating our Padawans like they are movable pieces on a dejarik board. These are our apprentices. We swore that we would do our best to protect them. Now we are using them as decoys! It doesn't seem right."

"It's not right. That's why Jedi make terrible Generals." Aurine slammed her good hand into her thigh, "I can't afford to have the morality of a Jedi Knight right now. We need to win this war, by whatever means necessary, because that's the only way anyone of us gets home."

The Rishati nodded slowly, "I suppose that winning is the only thing that matters." She turned away for a moment, "That is a horribly odd thing for a Jedi Knight to say."

"Maybe we should talk about how attached the two of them are obviously becoming," she said.

Tiplee's mouth twitched, "While I don't think their relationship is physical, I'll admit that they've become a bit too...dependent on each other for my liking."

"They are either platonically or non-platonically attached to each other, I think. It doesn't really matter which. This could turn out to be very bad for us, because if something bad happens to one of them, the remaining Padawan may be deeply affected...and not in a good way."

"I agree. But I don't see any alternative. Do you?"

She shook her head, "No. Is there anything else you think we can do?" Aurine asked.

Tiplee stared straight forward for a long moment. Then she turned to face her again, "Dream," said Tiplee. "And never doubt that there is always hope."