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“Mama, tell me a story!”
Hera smiled down at her son, who pulled the covers of his bed up to his chin. Jacen’s voice was like the sweetest music to her ears. Hera hardly saw him, with a war going on out there in the galaxy and her being a general in it. She got a few days here and there where she could find time to come home to him, and she cherished that time. Those moments- playing with toys, going for walks in an open field, bedtime stories- were worth the universe to Hera. This was why she fought now, to be able to have those moments every day in a peaceful galaxy, and for everyone else to be able to do the same.
“Which story tonight, Jace?” Hera scrolled through the children’s stories saved on her datapad. “The Little Loth Cat? Goodnight Moons?” she suggested. Jacen shook his head.
“Tell me one of your stories, Mama,” the child said. Hera smiled again. She had so many stories.
“How about Uncle Zeb and the Meiloorun Hunt?” Hera fondly recalled the memory from years ago. Jacen shook his head again.
“A new story.”
“A new story? Okay.” Hera had one. An important one, one that Jacen needed to know. Although, she didn’t know how she would tell it. “Your father’s name was Kanan Jarrus, and he was the bravest man I ever knew.” Jacen looked up at her with wide eyes. Although only 4, he was aware something had happened to his father years ago, but didn’t know much else. His attention was fully fixed on his mother. “He was a Jedi Knight. He had a blue laser sword and could use the Force.”
“Woah,” Jacen breathed, though Hera doubted he really knew what those things were.
“I got into trouble with some bad people,” Hera said. It sounded strange to her, to tell it like this, as if it really were just a story and not a haunting memory of electricity crackling over her body as she was strapped to a metal table.
“Oh no!” Jacen said, his green eyebrows shooting up.
“‘Oh no’ is right, buddy. But, your father decided that he would save me, and he did. He got me out, but we ran into more trouble.” Hera knew this would be the hardest part to tell. How could she possibly phrase this for her 4 year old son? “This time, your Aunt Sabine was in trouble, too, and someone else. His name is Ezra. Your father chose to save us all- Sabine, and me, and Ezra, and you , too.” Hera ended it there, patting her stomach with a small smile. Jacen didn’t need to know more details. Not until he was older.
“Is that what happened to Daddy?” Jacen asked simply, but he had a strikingly profound look on his little face. Not sad, but thoughtful.
“Yes, Jacen,” Hera answered, trying not to remember too much.
“Daddy was a hero,” Jacen concluded. Hera felt tears of pride welling up in her eyes. Pride for her son, who was growing up to be so smart and intuitive, and pride for Kanan, who was the greatest hero she’d ever known.
“Yeah, Jace. He was a hero.”
It remained that easy for a long time. Hera even got better at telling the tale, which, over time, she’d given the flair of a legend- “It was a simple story, about a boy who was lost, and a girl who was broken. They fought alongside a survivor, a war veteran, and a fallen knight. I led them into battle against an evil so terrible, it tried to black out the stars.”
Jacen was satisfied with that, and so was Hera. She tried to decide when she thought Jacen was ready, but never came to a conclusion. Deep down, Hera knew it was herself she was waiting on. Perhaps she would never be quite ready. Hera told herself the time would come naturally and left it there. Eventually, it did.
“Mom?” Jacen said, feigning casualness as he tapped away at a game on his datapad. He was 15 now, and growing seemingly by the hour. The older he got, the more Hera saw Kanan in him. In his smile, in his build, in the sparkle in his eyes, in his sharp wit. It made her heart full more than anything, but phantom pains ached, too.
“What’s up, Jace?” Hera replied, also feigning casualness as she could tell something serious was on his mind. Jacen hesitated. He took in a breath, and Hera could practically feel the butterflies in his stomach. A thought crossed her mind- Could he be wondering-?- but she waved the thought away before fully entertaining it. Nonetheless, her hand clenched tighter around the wrench she was using to make a repair in the cockpit.
“Mom, what happened to Dad? I know the story, ‘they fought with a fallen knight’ and all that, but what actually happened?” His question was shaky, a contrast to his typically confident and outspoken demeanor. When Hera heard it, she froze. Her breath caught in her throat, and she let it out in a quiet sigh.
It was probably about time for this conversation, anyway, and Force knows she wouldn’t have started it. This was for the best. Still, Hera slowly put down her wrench, slowly made her way over to Jacen, and slowly sat down next to him, as if she could wait just a little longer.
“You want the whole truth, huh?”
“Yeah,” Jacen nodded, taking a deep breath, “The whole truth.”
As hard as it was, the whole truth was what Hera gave him. She told him of how she was captured and tortured, newly pregnant and so worried about the life inside her with each surge of electricity, hoping to the Force that the drugs didn’t affect the baby. Of voicing what was always deeply known between her and Kanan- “I love you.” Of watching him burn not five minutes later.
Jacen was contemplative and quiet except for a few questions.
“Who blew the cell? Do you know?” he asked.
“Our best guess was an Imperial Governor called Pryce. She died when we took back Lothal. We gave her a choice, but she decided to die with the Empire.” Hera was surprised at how calmly she was able to answer.
“Good.” Jacen straightened up in his seat as he said it, and so did Hera. He stared forward, his face stony and expressionless, but his eyes said everything the rest of his face did not. They had a fierce glare in them, and crackled with anger. Nothing scared Hera more than that look in his eyes.
“Jacen, don’t say things like that,” Hera said, trying to be gentle and trying to be firm and trying to sound like she wasn’t more afraid now than she’d ever been in her life.
“But...Dad…” Jacen said, the edge quickly draining from his voice. His brow furrowed with confusion and hurt. His eyes lost their severity and took on a profound sadness that was just as powerful as the anger. His grief was so deep he didn’t understand it. His father had been dead for his whole life, so why did it hurt so much? Jacen left his sentence where it was, not even trying to find words to continue. He didn’t need to. Hera put a hand on his shoulder.
“I know, Jace. Believe me, I know.” There was nothing else she could tell him. Saying everything would be perfectly fine in the end was an empty promise. Scars might fade, but they don’t disappear. All Hera could give was her understanding. Jacen slowly put his hand on top of his mother’s, and they sat in silence.
It was times like this when Hera wished more than ever that Kanan was there. He would know what to do. It frustrated Hera that out of everything she’d learned from her life experiences, the one thing she hardly understood at all was the most important thing in her life- her son. There was a lot that Hera knew about the galaxy, but there was also a lot she didn’t know. This side of Jacen was one of them. The Force was a beautiful thing, but it could be dangerous- that much Hera knew. She’d seen it with Ezra, although she didn’t understand. Ezra once had those same looks in his eyes that Jacen now did, but Kanan was there to guide him. Hera was certainly no Jedi. What if she couldn’t manage her son’s anger and hurt?
Well, she at least had to try. Maybe Hera didn’t know exactly what to do, but she knew something that might help.
“Jacen, it’s time I took you somewhere.”
The Ghost landed on an empty stretch of field far removed from Lothal City. White-purple mountains towered and rolled across the landscape. Jacen looked out of the viewport from the seat in the cockpit that used to be Kanan’s.
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere I should have taken you a long time ago,” Hera said as she opened the back of the ship and left the cockpit. Jacen followed, curious and confused, but knowing this had to be about his father. There were a lot of questions running through Jacen’s head, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he quietly followed Hera as they stepped off of the Ghost and into the grassy plain.
Jacen had never been so far from Lothal City before, as there wasn’t much worth seeing out in the plains. However, now that he was there, he immediately felt drawn to the area. Something about simply being there put his mind at peace. The air was temperate, clean, and crisp compared to the city. All was serene and silent save for the quiet swishing of grass. A slight breeze rustled Jacen’s hair. He closed his eyes and breathed in. He tilted his head toward the sky, felt his feet planted on the ground, and flexed his fingers.
This planet felt alive .
There was a faint tingling Jacen felt from his toes to the tips of his fingers, and somehow he felt as if it were the life force of Lothal itself. Something so much bigger than him with a calmness and a wisdom that came with many, many years of existence. After a few more moments of taking in this new side of Lothal, Jacen looked to his mother and nodded, ready to see whatever it was she brought him to see.
The mouth of the cave and the walls inside were was decorated with ancient paintings. In the center of the cave, on the ground in front of a painting of a mountain, sat a simple memorial. There was nothing but a green mask and a wooden heirloom- a kalikori.
Jacen understood immediately, and his breath hitched. He carefully stepped further into the cave, feeling as though he were walking on sacred ground and at risk of disturbing something. Hera knelt in front of the memorial, leaving a spot beside her from Jacen. He looked at her, as if asking permission, and she gave a slight nod. Slowly, Jacen knelt beside his mother and looked at the small memorial of a man who was a stranger to him. Jacen felt strangely detached, almost hollow. He thought that he should be feeling something more. He didn’t have the connection that his mother did. Jacen didn’t know his father. All he had to offer was a single tear, the materialization of the only thing he felt in that moment: lost.
Suddenly, something changed. Something in the air. Something inside of Jacen. Yes, all at once, his soul was filled with a warmth, an inexplicable feeling of connection, that was familiar yet foreign at the same time. He felt it deeply through his whole being, just as he had felt when he’d stepped onto the plains for the first time. Jacen couldn’t articulate it, but in his heart, he knew. He spoke a single, breathless word:
“Dad.”
Hera looked at Jacen beside her to see that his cold demeanor had completely changed. The corner of her mouth turned up. The Force worked in mysterious ways. Mysterious, beautiful ways.
Hera and Jacen remained there for a while. They didn’t talk, as neither could find the words to say. Just being there, together, was enough. Eventually, Jacen looked at mother and said,
“I’m ready to go now. Thanks for bringing me here.” He sounded at peace, which was all Hera could hope for. She patted her son on the back before they stood up and left the cave.
Jacen breathed in the crisp air of the plains once more as they walked back towards the Ghost . He saw movement in the corner of his eye that made him come to a stop. Jacen turned to see a loth-wolf, almost otherworldly in its majesty, standing in the field beneath the setting sun. Jacen and the wolf made profound eye contact for a time-stopping moment before the creature continued on its path. As Jacen jogged to catch up with Hera, he absently touched the loth-wolf patch on the arm of his jacket.
“Mom, did you see that?” Jacen asked.
“See what?”
Jacen paused for a moment. “Nevermind.” They walked the rest of the way in content silence.
The Ghost was filled with a quiet, introspective energy as Hera and Jacen took their seats in the cockpit and prepared for liftoff. Hera let herself yearn for Kanan to be sitting beside her as he had all those years ago. She didn’t allow herself to dip into those feelings often, as living in the past was no way to live, but it felt okay in that moment. However, as much as Hera missed Kanan, she loved Jacen, and wouldn’t trade the galaxy for him sitting beside her.
Jacen, meanwhile, was deep in his own thoughts. He wondered what it used to be like around the Ghost, with his Aunt Sabine, Uncle Zeb, and the Ezra he’d never met. And his father. What was his father like? Just on a normal day? Where did he like to sit around the ship? Was he funny? Was he good at holochess? Did he get along with Chopper? Jacen broke the silence in the cockpit as stars began to fill the viewport.
“Mom?”
“Yeah, Jace?”
“Could you tell me about Dad?”
Hera smiled. She had so many stories.