Setting: After the destruction of the Death Star 2, near the Ewok village. Through Obi-Wan’s point of view.

accept the pain,

cherish the joys,

resolve the regrets.

- unknown

It is quiet here. No creature stirs. They are dumb, yet even the simplest of creatures can sense the need for silence. Only the wind dares to blow through the trees. But it blows lightly, so that the leaves barely move.

It is quiet here.

And it is dark, so dark. It is an appropriate way to say farewell to evil. What is born in darkness dies as night falls.

There is a celebration going on. The joyful sounds of cheers and primitive music are muted as they float through the vast forest, but wisps of hastily uttered words survive.

The Emperor is dead. The Emperor is dead.

True. The tyrant had at last succumbed to mortality, and by no better means than his own ambition. Palpatine’s once admirable trait had betrayed him when he attempted to break the bonds of brotherhood. Of blood.

But the sith’s reach went beyond that of his apprentice and the boy Luke. That despicable old man even tried to turn Jacen, my son, against me by feeding him lies that I had known of his destiny but had purposely never prepared him for it. He told Jacen that I had never claimed him as my son, and that I let him fall to the Empire because I was jealous that his power surpassed my own and wanted to keep my legacy as a Knight unsurpassed and untainted by Jacen’s existence.

Jacen resisted Palpatine for a while, but eventually the sith’s poison seeped too deep. I watched horrified as for the second time that monster stole someone I loved from me.

When Palpatine’s wilted hand closed around Jacen and made him his, my son died. A monster more terrifying than Vader took my son’s place and so I turned to Luke, the last hope for the galaxy.

But Jacen surprised me.

In the end, with Vader dying and Luke gravely injured, my son sacrificed himself for his friend. When the Emperor died his creations disappeared and my former apprentice and son returned.

The stars are so bright, so full of life. Like my son. I did not have enough faith in him. Or enough hope. I failed my son for the second time by not believing in him. And for that I am truly sorry.

A branch snaps and I look up, startled but not afraid. The dead cannot die twice.

It is him.

He does not see me, but it will only be a matter of moments. A glowing specter in a dark forest at night is hard to miss.

He has changed since I last met him. His hair is longer and seems darker from the shadows cast by the towering trees, but I know that it is as bright as mine once was. His walk is slightly stooped, partly from exhaustion and partly from pain. I would tell him to go to a medic, but I know that he wouldn’t. At least not yet. We have much to talk about.

And I have much to reflect.

This young man is my son, a child that my darling Katherine gave me but was kept hidden from me by my own instruction. If I had known that I was to be gifted with a child, perhaps things would have been different.

Perhaps if I had been there to watch Jacen grow, to guide him in the ways of the Force, his interlude with the Dark could have been avoided.

I knew that I didn’t have the time to tell him about his destiny, and I should have told him right away, but I refrained. The truth is I was afraid. Afraid for this son that I had just discovered. Afraid for what I knew he was to face.

I wanted Jacen to remain innocent for as long as possible. Before his destiny caught up with him.

But I can see now that my reluctance to inform Jacen about the legacy he had inherited hurt him more than I intended.

His confusion, anger and hurt at mine and his mother’s sudden deaths caused him to find outlets in the Force that lead him closer to the Dark Side.

I only wanted Jacen to be protected. To be happy.

Perhaps things could have been different.

Then I heard it. The one word that I longed to hear more than anything else in the galaxy.

“Father.”

Jacen stood before me and I barely recognized him. It wasn’t the physical differences that startled me. It was his eyes.

There was a large scar across Jacen’s left eye, a frightening twin to the scar that Anakin sported before he turned. Jacen stared unblinking at me, his left eye strangely unfocused, and I knew then that he was blind. Thankfully it was only his left eye.

There were also burns on Jacen’s face, arms and hands. Tokens of Palpatine’s gratitude, no doubt. I strongly suspected that there are more.

But there was something else. Something less...tangible.

In my son’s eyes I see knowledge, a new wisdom that wasn’t there before. But it is a wisdom created from experiences that should not have been. The burden of knowledge come too late has been placed on my son’s young shoulders.

I regret not being able to be there for my son when he needed me, but perhaps I can help guide him on his way to recovery from his injuries.

He should know that I am proud of him. He accomplished what I and the other jedi could not. The Emperor is dead. And Jacen is now a man.

A man that will forever be a mystery to me.

Jacen moves to speak to me and I want to cry.

He is my son, but I will never know him.