37 ABY, Coruscant
Grand Master Luke Skywalker stood at attention in the late morning sun, beside him Mara, Kyp, Octa, Corran, and the other Jedi veterans of the Fall of Coruscant, all dressed in their black flight suits bearing the red and white starbird badge of the New Jedi Order, helmets under their left arms. The other Jedi stood in ranks behind them wearing their traditional robes. Facing them on the other wing of the spacious rooftop garden were deep ranks of senior commanders and decorated pilots, and farther down the promenade were the senators, ambassadors, governors and other notable personages deemed worthy of an invitation. They were all listening as Chief of State Cal Omas delivered a long and grand address, his magnified voice echoing across the landscape, enormous banners fluttering in the breeze.
The overblown ceremony was not what Luke had imagined at all.
He had simply approached Omas about the possibility of a posthumous military decoration for his cousin Oberrin. There were sufficient grounds to justify it, Luke thought, considering Oberrin's conspicuous desire to serve the war effort despite the relative security of his own homeworld. Cal had agreed, but then the idea had sparked his politician's imagination, and lurking within every politician was a showman. It was the tenth anniversary of the battle, he reasoned. A public commemoration would rally the population as they continued to rebuild. A new public square should be designed and named to honor the occasion. What better to adorn a public square than a large specially-commissioned monument? By then, that runaway maglev train had well and truly left the station, leaving Luke and his vision of a quiet family affair in the dust.
Leia caught his eye from her place among the other honored figures behind Cal on the dais, that subtle I-told-you-so look on her face again. It was all in good humor. She thoroughly approved of the idea in principle, but she had warned him that something like this could be the likely result once Omas got hold of it. It was out of their hands now, and all they could do was play their parts for the honored dead.
Finally concluding his lengthy remarks, the Chief of State turned toward the hulking mass of granite behind him, veiled in scarlet. Leia pulled a cord on cue, and the veil fell away to reveal a sobering wall of names representing every last crewman and pilot lost in the battle. At the crest, in heroic profile, was carved the likeness of Oberrin Veruna, now the public face of them all.
His young sons, Darred and Ruwee Veruna, were escorted up to the dais by their grandmother, Pooja Naberrie. Chief of State Omas thanked them for their father's service on behalf of the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, presented them with the folded flag of the New Republic, the colors Oberrin had died defending, and a boxed medal for conspicuous valor in the face of the enemy.
Luke bit his lip as he watched Darred accept his father's award with as stoic an expression as he could muster, obviously fighting back tears with every ounce of strength he possessed. It was all worth it, all the fuss and pomp and bother, just to see the fierce pride on those boys' faces. Pooja's face was set like a veteran commander's, but she wasn't ashamed of her tears. She had grieved a long time ago, and these were tears of satisfaction.
A familiar roar shook the ground as impressive formations of starfighters of all descriptions passed overhead trailing plumes of white and red smoke, a ceremonial flyover led by Jaina Solo, and everyone present with even a passing affiliation with the military raised their hands to salute the fallen. Standing there with his fingertips to his brow, Luke had to hand it to Cal. It was a moving display.
It was a grim simulacrum of a family reunion, but a necessary one. They may have never met Cousin Oberrin, but their paths had crossed once on that fateful day above Coruscant, unbeknownst to any of them. It seemed only right to honor that, and better late than never.
No offense to the dead, but Luke was very much looking forward to visiting with the living when the ceremony was over. As they had all just been inescapably reminded, life was short, nothing was guaranteed, and they should all be grateful for the time that they had and the people they could share it with.
Luke was determined to live as much as he could before anyone would be doing any flyovers for him.