Ten Months Later

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Cray Mingla gazed up at the steadily turning sphere of Ossus.

Negotiator's observation garden was serene: long transparisteel windows surrounded her on every side, curving up into a dome ceiling that brought robust starlight in. The garden was full of greenery, plants and insects and a handful of animals who had accommodated themselves to life aboard a spacecraft. Life surrounded her.

Negotiator was the second vessel to be launched by the Jedi Order, after the wreck of Rendili Vigil had been purchased for scrap prices and rebuilt by grateful Corellian repair yards to serve as the first official vessel in service to the Jedi and their Ranger auxiliaries. A slightly larger vessel, built with more comforts for both crew and passengers, Negotiator would be their standard-bearer, the ship that was first to arrive at worlds in crisis, carrying Jedi to investigate and settle disputes or provide aid. The garden was foremost among those comforts, a place for Jedi to feel at home in nature even in the void of space.

The planet above her cast reflected light down into the dome on the backdrop of stars. Ossus was red, with few stretches of green and constantly swirling white clouds, sparkling with constant, furious lightning storms. A bronze sphere, gleaming in the dark, it had been home to an ancient Jedi Temple and the Great Jedi Library. They had been abandoned, millenia ago, after Ossus had been ravaged by multiple disasters. It was possible for humans to tread upon Ossus' soil, and it was rumored that the world had natives who eschewed contact with outsiders, but the most spectacular ruins were dangerous and an extended visit would be hazardous even to a Jedi. The Imperial force which had garrisoned the world had been withdrawn after Endor, but even before that Palpatine had seemingly left Ossus' surface alone. As such it remained perhaps the very last refuge of ancient, untainted Jedi knowledge, if there was any to be found.

That was why Negotiator was here. Her cargo holds were laden with hundreds of excavation and archival droids, mechanical creatures immune to the radiation that plagued the ruins. Networked together so that they formed a greater whole, able to scan and search with flexible sensory tools that would not harm whatever artifacts, holocrons, or texts they might happen across in their search, they were ideal for the task. They could operate near-indefinitely, thanks to their ability to power themselves by returning to Ossus' surface, extending their solar panels and recharding in the sun, and could communicate their finds via their stationary hypercom to the Smugglers' Alliance network in this part of the Outer Rim.

The droids were the product of months of work, of effort and error, trial and triumph. They were the product of mastery. And the man who had been most responsible for it—her partner, her lover, her friend—had not lived to see it finished.

Cray shuddered as the tears threatened to take her again. Her connection to the Force had grown stronger in the months since the Battle of Corellia, and she could feel the undulation of life and change all around her. The water in the soil that provided sustenance for the uneti saplings that waited for their permanent homes; the tiny gossamer wings of the bees that cheerfully buzzed around the room; the green leaves of the large Fijisi tree that extended its expansive branches, filling the space near the turbolift. Life surrounded her, the Force surrounded her, energy offering itself freely for her to take, to shape, reform into something new.

And none of it, not even Cilghal's medical knowledge, had been enough to save Nichos' life. It had been all they could do to ease his passing.

"It's all right, Cray," he had said to her the last time they had been here. "It's all right. You and I both knew this was coming. We've known it for a long time." He had taken her face in his hands, and for once the pain was smoothed from his lips and he'd looked as she remembered him, calm and poised. "We were lucky to have the time we were given, we both know that." He had kissed her then, and she had cried, as she was crying now.

The intercom pinged, and the smooth, Anaxes-accented tones of Ranger Captain Asori Rogriss resounded through the ship. "Attention all hands. Initial launch in thirty seconds."

Looking out the window she could see the bulky lines of the massive Hazard Pod that contained the droids she and Nichos had toiled to design and build together, as it underwent final checks.

"Brace for launch."

Negotiator bucked slightly.

"Pod away."

Cray watched its engines flare into life like a fresh star. It streaked downwards, curving through one of those coruscating clouds, shimmering with blue-white light. And then, like Nichos, it too was out of sight. She knew it would be landing now, unloading its droids, dispersing them to begin the hunt, but the only evidence she had of them was the toll they had left on her fingers when she assembled the prototypes, the scars. She looked at those hands, otherwise unblemished, remembering how Nichos' own extremities had curled with agony as his disease progressed, infecting organ after organ until all that was left was the pain.

This day ought to be his crowning achievement. But there was no celebration to be had here, no joy. All around her the Force started to darken, because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! How dare the universe torment her this way! Why give her happiness at all if it was just going to take it away in the most excruciatingly painful, laboriously elaborate way possible. Why give her the Force if it was just going to use it to unambiguously demonstrate the horror of Nichos' condition, without also giving her the ability to help him!

The darkness relaxed around her. She let it go, and she cried.

She didn't hear the whisper-quiet sound of the turbolift opening, or the light footsteps across the dirt floor of the observatory garden. She did turn her head to see Luke Skywalker sit next to her, cross-legged, apparently not minding that he was getting dirt on his beige-and-brown Jedi robes.

She sniffled miserably, feeling stupid and weak.

"No, don't," Luke murmured. "It's okay. It's okay."

The words were enough to send her into another burst of tears. She fell against Luke's shoulder, sobbing, and he wrapped an arm around her, letting her cry. When she had regained the ability to speak, realizing that she was imposing her grief on Luke Skywalker, the galaxy's noble hero and a new father himself, who surely had better—

"No," Luke said quietly. "I don't. I have nothing in the galaxy better to be doing than to be here, right now." He offered her a ghost of a smile. "You're my student. And even if you weren't, you're a being in pain, and you are here, and so am I." He paused, letting her wipe her eyes.

"I'm sure you've never cried like this," she mumbled, tasting the salt on her lips.

"You'd be wrong," Luke said. "After Yavin, when the reality of all that had happened finally sank in, I cried for days. I tried not to, I wanted to look strong for Han and Leia. Especially Leia because she'd lost Alderaan and didn't cry anywhere near as much." He looked up, watching Ossus turn, the clouds alive with blue-white bioluminescence. "Chewbacca sat with me. At the time I couldn't even understand him, so he just sat with me and let me cry." He squeezed her shoulders. "If you want to cry, then you should cry."

Cray sniffled again. "It's not fair," she said miserably, her tears exhausted for the moment. "It's not."

Luke took a deep breath. "No," he agreed softly. "It's not."

When she didn't speak again, he didn't press her; instead, they watched together as Ossus, the center of all her efforts for these past years, all her trials, her life with Nichos and the object of all her goals, rotated slowly. "How did you get past it?" she asked finally.

"I'm not sure I did," Luke said. "In some ways Beru and Owen hurt more each year. What would they be doing today? What would they think of Mara, and everything the Jedi have rebuilt? There are quiet moments on the mid-watch where I look at the stars and wish they were here; that Aunt Beru and I could make ahrisa again, or Uncle Owen would wake me up before the crack of dawn to get the vaporators operating, even as I forget their voices." He took a deep breath. "Or I'll imagine Biggs, still flying with Wedge and the Rogues." He shook his head sadly. "But something Yoda told me once helps me sometimes, at least. All is one, in the Force. The Force is all life, not just all life that is, but all life that was, and all that will be. Wherever we go, we carry them with us."

Cray nodded, not feeling better. "He was glad," she whispered softly, her words ragged. "He was so glad that he lived long enough to meet your daughter."

"So am I," he said. "I'm glad he could be one of us for the time we had." He was quiet, looking up at Ossus above them as the world turned. "Why don't you tell me about him?"

So she did.

She told him how they met, as students at the Magrody Institute. How they'd shared the same advisor; how she'd found him insufferable at first, because of his tendency towards bravado. How she realized that his bravado was his own way of covering for his insecurities. How he'd convinced her that she was good enough, even as she'd done the same for him. How he'd always known what she was thinking, what she wanted or needed. How his illness had first manifested, how rapidly it had worsened. How their kidnapping by Roganda had taken away any chance they had to fight its progression. How after their rescue from Silencer Station he'd finally taken her aside, held her hands, and told her that he wanted to enjoy his last days as best he could, with her, working on something they both loved.

Luke listened, quiet and attentive, smiling when she smiled and laughing when she laughed. On occasion, even crying when she cried. It didn't make her feel better, exactly, but she could feel passion returning and the Force met her passion with its own. "He said he just wished he'd lived long enough to see me become a Jedi," she said softly.

"I think he did," said Luke.

That made her cry again. Luke sat with her and let her, and when she had reached the end of her tears she thought maybe he was right.

The quarters that Luke and Mara shared aboard Negotiator were large enough for them and their new daughter, but only just. They would be returning to Tempered Mettle after the mission to Ossus was complete, and from there they would return to Coruscant. Leia and Han were waiting for them, ready and eager to help with the next few difficult months of dealing with an infant.

Mara held Betrys in her arms, looking down at her tiny face with wonderment. She looked up when Luke entered, her expression soft, so incredibly unlike his first memory of her, the impression of ferocity that she had radiated. He sat next to her and she leaned into him.

Betrys' head was topped with wispy blonde hair. She peered up curiously at her parents with wide, brilliant green eyes.

"How is Cray?" Mara asked quietly.

"She'll be alright," Luke said, sure it was true. Sorrow clung to Cray, but it did not have the same desperate, almost nihilistic edge that it had when they had found her aboard the World Devastator. She had loved and lost. That loss would always be a part of her, but so too would the love.

Mara slipped one of her hands into his, lacing their fingers together. They gazed out through the viewport at Ossus—a world that represented the distant past of the Jedi, and perhaps also gave a glimpse into its future. Luke did not know what Cray and Nichos' droids would find, but he was sure that they would find something. It was yet another puzzle piece in the future of the Jedi, inspired by the past, but also new… born again out of stubbornness, determination, and love.

"Have you put any more thought into where the new Ranger headquarters should be?" Mara asked.

"Toprawa's a graveyard the survivors are still rebuilding, and New Alderaan is too far out on the Outer Rim," Luke said. "Some of the Core Worlds have been lobbying for us to settle them, but I think we want to choose someplace less prominent. We don't want to have our choice be perceived as some kind of political statement. Artoo had a suggestion, a world on the Mid-Rim. It began with an N I think… Naboo? It's not that far from Tatooine, actually. Have you heard of it?"

Mara gave him an odd look. "Of course. Palpatine was Naboo's Senator."

Luke frowned. "I think I knew that," he said after a moment. "Do you think it's dangerous?"

She shook her head. "No. I never visited it while I was Emperor's Hand and to the best of my knowledge Palpatine never did either. I don't think he was too fond of the place."

"Well, in that case it looks like it might be a good place for some training," Luke said, shaking off the uneasy feeling that had come with the unexpected mention of Palpatine's name. "It's got substantial settlements, a well-established and stable democratic government, and multiple inhabitant species who seem to live mostly in harmony, although there were some rough patches during the Empire. Plus, it has the benefit of large tracts of wilderness which should be good for training."

"Did Artoo have any particular reason for suggesting it?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't think so?"

"Well," Mara said philosophically, "Let's look into it. As you say, the galaxy seems to work better when Artoo is in charge."

Luke chuckled and tightened his arm around her. The two of them peered through the viewport, at the red world of Ossus and its white and blue clouds spread out below them, shimmering with electricity. Betrys, for once calm, exuded a fuzzy sense of contentment as they all enjoyed the moment.

In the Force, Mara and Betrys both felt the same to Luke. A sense of wonderment, of curiosity and anticipation, swelled around all three of them. A vision of the future floated before Luke's eyes, a vision of their future. All their hopes and dreams, promises and opportunities, shadowed by dangers and unseen foes that waited for them.

Dangers they would meet with a daughter who had her father's smile and her mother's scowl.

"But that's the future," Luke murmured to Mara, feeling her as immersed in the vision as he was himself. "This is the present, and we finally have time to enjoy it." Luke was determined to take what had been offered to them, to share and rejoice in it. The future would take care of itself.

Eventually, the vision faded, leaving just a vestige of warmth. He kissed Mara gently. "If you want to sit here and hold her, I can go and bring you something from the mess hall."

Mara squeezed his hand as Betrys grabbed for the folds of Luke's outer robe. "No, that's all right," she said. "We'll come with you."

Author's Note: Fin! The name Betrys Skywalker was invented by ginchy-amanda for her Echoes of Always fanfiction AU, and is re-used here with permission.

Thank you so much for reading!