A few weeks after the peace was formally signed, Asori and Terek's transport arrived in the Axum System. On arrival it was queried by Superb, an old, functional Venator that acted as the mostly-ceremonial flagship of Anaxes' defense forces. The old ship was still combat capable—and carried proof of that ability in the form of recent scars, earned at Corellia.
The gray-plated, red-trimmed ship fired off a salute into open space at their arrival, broad-scattered turbolasers vanishing into the void, welcoming home a storied son, one who had done his duty, and in the course of his duty given his life to protect others. A man Anaxes was proud of, just as Asori was.
Her Papa.
Somehow, after that, all the bureaucracy became very easy, and Asori tried not to break down in tears as she did all the needed flimsiwork.
It had been many years since a Rogriss had last breathed the faintly-familiar air of Anaxes. For thousands of years, the signature export of Anaxes had been spacers. It had contributed far more than its fair share to the Old Republic's Judicial Forces, and after the Dawn of the Empire that tradition had continued.
Most of the people in attendance wore military uniforms of one kind or another. Asori was one of the few who did not; she had chosen instead to wear a civilian tunic and trousers in mourning gray, complete with a veil, silently relieved to no longer be wearing Imperial insignia.
Anaxes' military tradition meant that Anaxes was also very familiar with the military funeral. The fact that Asori and Terek were unable to return with their father's body might have been unusual on many other worlds, but to the people of Anaxes it was far from atypical.
The burial traditions of her homeworld were thus unique, and tailored to the professions of its people. Typically, the ashes of the deceased would be bonded with metal and forged into a symbolic plate which—among the more prosperous of Anaxes' families—would then be interred into a family mausoleum.
A heavily urbanized world, like Coruscant or Denon, Anaxes had made an effort to preserve nature, especially in and around sacred spaces. The cemeteries of the Great Plain dated back to the world's first settlements and were thousands of years old. Among the many mausoleums within the Great Plain was one which bore the name 'Rogriss.' There was a tall plinth capped with a sunstone statue of a Keffi riding beast in harness, the saddle empty and reversed boots set through each stirrup.
The honor guard stepped forward aiding Asori and Terek to open the heavy stone doors. Within were hundreds of plates engraved with names and ranks, a rainbow of subtly-different durasteel hues that gleamed in the afternoon sun.
Their mother's plaque was made from the hull of Agonizer. She would have bonded her father to metal from the ship's keel as well, but after Poln Major that opportunity had been forever lost. Admiral Pellaeon had permitted her to take some of the damaged hull of Termagant instead, which left her father's plate a darker, void color.
One of the honor guards stepped forward, the Anchoress. A tall, sticklike woman of advanced years, she wore an elaborate ermine robe that had intricate, purple-thread embroidery that ran in whorls over her shoulders and down her sleeves.
"Who stands before this monument to the honored dead?" asked the Anchoress.
Asori's voice failed her, but Terek's did not. Unlike her, he wore a uniform that still carried an active rank. "Asori and Terek Rogriss," said Terek. "Birthed of Teren and Ystercia, and raised in service."
Asori lifted the durasteel plate, held it out and read from it, the words laser-engraved as befitting her father's last will and testament. "Admiral Teren Rogriss: Proud father, besotted husband, sometimes wit. Forever on watch."
The Anchoress accepted the plaque, bowed over it reverently, then handed it back to them.
Together, she and Terek placed the plate next to their mother's, above rows of empty shelves for future ranks of future Rogrisses. They stood in front of the pair, among the many plates of her other ancestors and relatives, offering a silent reverie.
They stepped back, giving way to the Anchoress again. She removed from a miniature arc-welder, burnished with bronzium tracery, and used the tool to affix Teren's plate next to his wife's before turning back to address the crowd.
"We stand here today to bring a son of Anaxes home, interred with his beloved, in the place of his family. Teren Rogriss lived as an exemplar to the finest traditions of service and died shielding others from unspeakable evil. Be he long remembered."
"Be he long remembered," the honor guard murmured. One among them had a familiar voice, and Asori allowed herself a quick glance. Atril Tabanne was there in her New Republic dress uniform, her expression appropriately solemn. Together with the rest of the guard, Atril issued Asori's father a solemn and heartfelt salute, practically Imperial in her precision.
Time hung heavy, and Asori remembered again how her father had been prepared to die to save Atril's life before Asori and Atril had even met.
Because he'd given his word. Because a Rogriss doesn't break the faith with those who deserve it.
Asori still wasn't sure what kind of powers the Jedi had. She didn't believe in ghosts or life eternal, but she could swear she could feel his affection, and a ghost of his wry smile.
"Be he long remembered," she echoed, thickly. Then she stepped back and watched as they sealed the mausoleum once again.
When the stone doors ground shut, Asori and her brother turned, and, observing tradition, walked away from the shadow cast by the mausoleum, into the bright noonday sun towards the supporting throng without a backward glance.
Traditionally, after an Anaxes funeral, the friends and family would get together and have a light lunch and drinks, but Asori had decided not to hold one. Instead, she had taken her brother and Atril to a small, largely outdoor restaurant at the edge of the Great Plain, where Anaxes' remaining wilderness met the edges of the city. Behind them was a mountain range which created a natural barrier between the city and the wilderness, through which repulsor-trains regularly carried city-dwellers to the country for rest and relaxation.
Atril and Terek were getting along, and it made Asori nervous. It had been a long time since she'd had a girlfriend… since before she'd gone to the academy, even. Being in the fleet hadn't left a lot of free time for relationships, and she had been rather intent on not making the same mistakes her father had.
She watched as the two of them laughed, Terek leaning in to whisper something conspiratorial to Atril, then the two of them both looked in her direction. She flushed under their regard, determinedly looking away and taking a sip of her wine.
"I'll be right back," Terek said, standing. Her younger brother was round-faced and stocky, built more like their mother even as she resembled their bantam-weight father. "I need to hit the head, then I'm going to grab another bottle of wine. Any preferences?"
Atril shook her head. "I defer to local expertise."
Terek smiled and turned to leave. Atril watched him go, then slid in next to Asori, her hand moving to rest on Asori's knee. "How are you doing?"
Asori offered her a lopsided, not entirely truthful smile. "Appreciating that you two are getting along at least."
"He's easy to get along with," Atril agreed.
"It's odd being home. I'm grateful that the government didn't sell our family home, because I'm not sure where I would have gone now that I've left the Fleet. But I still don't feel like I belong here anymore."
"Have you given any thought to signing up with the New Republic Defense Forces?" Atril teased.
Asori snorted. "As if they'd take me"
"You'd be surprised," Atril said, and squeezed her knee. "But, if you still haven't shaken the call of the void, I may know a different organization that could use your skillset. Does that pique your interest?"
Asori's brows furrowed. "Which organization?"
Even with repairs and computer hardening well underway, Roganda's attack on Coruscant had taken a toll on the world. Repairs were progressing at speed, and would continue quickly, but the blow to confidence had been more severe. The subsequent destruction of the World Devastator at Corellia had been a reassurance, and the signing of the peace treaty an additional confidence booster, but nonetheless Luke could still feel the uncertainty and anxiety of Coruscant's populace.
He could almost see it in the skyline before him. Coruscant's skyline stretched into the horizon, lines of well-organized aircar traffic moving people from place to place.
"We've all been through a lot," Kam Solusar said. The older Jedi had recovered admirably quickly from the wounds he had sustained during the battle, but Luke knew he had a few new scars.
"How's Tionne?"
"She's all right. Her injuries weren't as bad as mine." Kam shrugged. "She didn't fight off two dozen battle droids at once."
Luke eyed him sideways. "Exaggerating for effect?"
Kam's face stayed stony calm, which matched what Luke expected from him. Still, he could feel the amusement that came from the other Jedi.
Tionne had been good for him.
"Keep your secrets, then," Luke teased.
"I don't know where sludgenews came up with that number," said Kam, stone-faced and words grinding like boulders. "I think it was three dozen."
Luke laughed.
In the meditation chamber, Luke could see Streen, having returned to his usual spot by the window. In the next room over, Tyria and Kirana Ti were training, exchanging Tyria's martial arts expertise and Kirana Ti's basic Force-spells. Mara sat cross-legged, watching them train.
"You've put in the purchase order?" Kam asked.
Luke nodded. "Mara and I met with Karrde to help with all of the paperwork. We've also put in the second order with Rendili, so we won't be able to keep it quiet for too much longer. I know Leia has informed the New Republic of our plans, too…"
"Is that why certain corners of sludgenews have been fearmongering about the impending Jedi takeover of the government?"
"Probably," Luke sighed. "Those rumors are also why we've accelerated our plans. Mara warned me that the moment we informed the Senate that it would leak, but I'm still stunned at both how quickly it happened and at the strength of the response."
"Don't be." Kam shook his head. "I was an Inquisitor, remember. This world was told over and over again that the Jedi had turned against the Republic, disfigured the Chancellor, and had been singularly responsible for everything that had gone wrong for centuries. There are a lot of people who want to see a return of the Jedi, but there are also millions of people who are terrified of us and always will be."
"You sound like Leia. This is the exact reason that we need to start playing a more active role again. We need to return to our traditional role of mediators. The Jedi were very ill-prepared and ill-suited for the wars of the last century, but we're very well suited for the peace. Now that the war is over, we need to be out there, helping keep that peace and kindling the Light everywhere we go."
"Tionne's already singing about it," said Kam.
"We may have to use that as the soundtrack for the recruitment holos," Luke laughed. "Join the Rangers and help the Jedi today! It'll be just like the ads for the Imperial Starfleet I used to see back on Tatooine as a boy." Luke shook his head. "It's a good thing the Imperials never found Tionne and put her to work. My Aunt and Uncle wouldn't have been able to keep me away."
That got a smile out of Kam. A small one, but a smile nonetheless.
Luke gazed around the Conclave Room at the center of the Coruscant Jedi Consulate, looking at each face in turn. Corran Horn stood in front of his chair, green Jedi robes hanging lightly around him, ready to start his briefing. Going clockwise around the room were Cilghal, Kam, Tionne, Mara, Streen, Tyria, Kirana Ti, and himself. Leia was absent, still working with the representatives of the new Barony to hammer out trade relations and system transfers.
It was the first time the entire Jedi Order had been assembled in one place in quite some time.
"There's no sign of the Seed?" asked Mara. She sat perched on the edge of her chair, leaning towards Corran, expression intent.
"Corellian Traffic Control tracked every piece of debris from the World Devastator. Most of the fragments were vaporized when they impacted with the planetary shields, but there was still small debris falling after the shields were lowered to allow the fleet to help with emergency services. Ninety-eight percent of the debris that was large enough to make planetfall has been found and cataloged, and given Luke's warning finding the last two percent has been a very high priority of the interim government. CorSec has participated and provided labor required to continue the search. So far nothing." Corran's voice was serious. "But it's impossible to know whether that means the 'Seed' was destroyed with the World Devastator, was destroyed physically but its 'presence' survived to die in Ismaren's head, or still exists and has yet to be found."
Luke and Mara shared a look. They'd spent many hours discussing exactly this in the weeks since the battle. "They should continue searching," Mara instructed.
"The Seed was dormant on Nar Shaddaa for a long time," Luke added calmly. "Centuries, perhaps millenia, perhaps even longer than that. But…" he allowed his voice to fade, the remembered words from those many debates with Mara rising back up as he let all the possibilities again come to mind… "It could have been destroyed. Being integrated into the World Devastator may have fundamentally changed it."
"I can assure you," Corran said to both of them, "that Corellia takes the threat very seriously. We will keep vigil." He looked at Luke, eyes measuring. "It certainly is a danger the Jedi should take seriously as well."
"And we will," Luke conceded. "We can log this in our databanks and Tionne can write it into ballads so people will know what to watch for. However, our numbers remain limited. Even as we recruit more Force sensitives and train more Jedi, in my lifetime our numbers are unlikely to grow greater than a few hundred." He turned, looking once more around the room, meeting the gaze of each of the new Jedi. "Among all those trillions of people out there who do not have the Force, there are many exceptional individuals who want to help us step back onto the galactic stage. Which is why we are going forward with the re-founding of the Antarian Rangers as a support and auxiliary branch. Tyria?"
As Corran sat, Tyria Sarkin stood, rolling her recently-healed shoulder with a satisfied fluidity. She had also grown increasingly comfortable and self-assured in recent weeks as the Ranger project had progressed. "Thank you all for trusting me with this project. Kell and I have made contact with other Ranger survivors, on Toprawa and elsewhere. We are working to arrange a gathering to discuss recruitment and training initiatives. Unlike Jedi, we'll be able to draw from those who cannot use the Force, though they may want to sit in on a class or several and they should of course be made welcome."
"The philosophy of the Jedi can and should be shared," Luke agreed. "We will arrange it."
"The new Rangers—and also the new Jedi—will need supplies and equipment," pointed out Corran.
"And ships," Mara agreed. "Which is why the Order has begun a procurement process. We need vessels large enough to support even serious humanitarian projects, but small enough to not excessively drain the Order's finances or threaten galactic governments"
"Master Trader Karrde and Baron Administrator Calrissian have been good enough to offer to support us in fundraising efforts," Luke added, silently grateful not to have to do that job himself. Even with the funds they already had available, it was important not to deplete their reserves "The war may be over, but the peace is no less difficult. Many worlds have been devastated and must rebuild. The New Republic is embarking on its own efforts, but as Jedi I expect we will be guided to the places and people most in need. We can and will offer the New Republic guidance, but many of those most desperate are going to be outside of the Republic's borders."
This was a point of contention, he knew. Some of the new Jedi believed that closer ties to the New Republic, and focusing their efforts within its borders, was sensible. But despite Luke's own familial ties to the New Republic's government, he disagreed. We must be free to follow the Force as it wills, and not be bound by borders and governments, he thought.
Such an idealist. Mara's tone was mildly exasperated, bordering on sarcastic. He caught her gaze; her green eyes were sharp with amusement.
So keep me grounded, he sent back with a smile.
We're buying starships, Farmboy. That's the opposite of what we want.
"This will not be easy," Kam warned. "But I believe it can succeed."
"With difficulty," Mara countered. "We intend to be an independent organization, but we will need to be accredited to operate in the New Republic and in the Barony, not to mention other independent polities like the Corporate Sector. Places which may be in the most need of our help, like the Hutt territories, will not allow us to operate openly."
"And what is our mission?" asked Corran. "In CorSec, we had a clear operational mandate."
"We're Jedi," said Kam. "We serve wherever we are needed."
Corran clearly didn't like that answer, but Mara spoke before he could. "The mission of the Jedi," she said slowly, "will be a complicated one, because each of us will be different. Tionne is not going to serve the way Cilghal does, or Kirana Ti, or you Corran. Each of us is unique and will serve in our own way." She leaned forward. "In a single word, our object is Justice."
"The Empire claimed to be just," Corran pointed out. "Justice is not an easy word."
"If it was easy, the songs about it would be pretty boring," said Tionne brightly. "Adversity and variety are the spices of good storytelling."
Luke smiled. "The Force will guide us, Corran," he said confidently. "We do not have all the answers to these questions now, but the better we serve the Force, the better we will uphold the ideals of the Jedi. For now, our foremost objective is to help keep this fragile peace, and to aid all those who suffer. Wherever they may be."
Service and Justice, he thought. The means and the end. Make small differences, change individual lives, and kindle those small flames, until they amount to something bigger.
We do the best we can.
The kitchen of the apartment was busy. Leia stood back at a distance, letting Han and Winter work together on the various dishes that were being prepared, with limited help from an excessively eager Threepio, and a little more help from a far less eager but dutiful Kyp.
Her twins were on the couch with their Aunt and Uncle. Leia could remember Mara's first interactions with Jaina, her baffled confusion at how to interact with the then-toddler. Now Jaina was a little older, a little more verbose, and just as confident. She had thrown herself into the slim space between Luke and Mara and was talking excitedly about something—what, Leia didn't know, but it probably had to do with spaceships—while Mara nodded along. Luke was his usual enthusiastic self, though at the moment his enthusiasm was mostly directed at Jacen, who was sitting on his other knee. Their conversation was much quieter and less animated, but Jacen's expression was rapt, listening to Luke's more hushed words.
On the opposite chair was Tycho, Winter's husband, with their daughter, Mia, resting in his arms, comfortable, protected and—for once—quiet.
Chewbacca was there too, but just for the day. In the morning, he'd be taking the Falcon to go back to Kashyyyk. He'd grown more comfortable allowing the Noghri to take his place as defender of the Solo family as he'd gotten to know them better—and learned about the seriousness with which the Noghri took their oaths. Meewalh and Cakhmaim were both out of sight, probably doing a routine patrol. Their dedication and fervor to protecting Leia's family was both a constant source of reassurance and something that provoked an odd sense of guilt. She'd tried to talk the Noghri out of their sense of almost divine responsibility, but despite all her diplomatic skills she had failed every time.
She knew, too, that when word of Mara's pregnancy got back to the Noghri clan dynasts, one or two guards would be assigned to her brother's family as well. Mara probably wouldn't take that well… but that was a problem for tomorrow.
There was a tug. She looked down, and found that in the few seconds her attention had been on Luke and Jacen, Jaina had hopped off the couch and raced across the room, her hand on Leia's pantleg. "Momma!"
"What is it?" Leia asked.
"Mara is gonna be my Aunt!"
Leia met Mara's gaze. The former Emperor's Hand had a dazed expression that Leia recognized, Mara had worn it after pretty much every interaction with Jaina over the years. But this time, Mara didn't try to hide the way she snuggled into Luke when he wrapped his arm around her back. She looked across the room at Leia and offered her soon-to-be sister-in-law a slightly-embarrassed smile.
"That's great, sweetie," Leia told Jaina, grinning back at Mara.
"Uncle Luke is real happy," Jaina said proudly.
Leia lifted Jaina up onto her lap and hugged her, feeling Mara and Luke's happiness through the Force, just as Jaina did. "Yes," she confirmed. "He really is."