Chapter Text
Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir ori’wadaas’la
(Nobody cares who your parent was, only the parent you will be)
Year 9 After the Battle of Yavin
It’s been a long day, and Hera can sense Jacen dragging his feet at her side. It’s too hot and the market is too crowded. She glances over to check on him, and he’s rubbing an eye, so she can tell he’s tired and overwhelmed, and she feels about as worn out as he looks.
“Hey,” she squeezes his hand to get his attention. “You hungry?”
“Yeah,” he looks up.
“Hmm,” she surveys the stalls ahead. “What do you think we should get, meilooruns or pallies?”
Jacen brightens. “Let’s get some meilooruns.”
“I agree,” she smiles and cuts a path over to the nearest booth.
The vendor barely looks up when they approach.
“All right, how much?” Hera asks him.
“Five each.”
“Five?!”
“Well, if you won’t buy it, someone else will.”
Hera shrugs, feigning disinterest. “I don’t see a line at your stall, but suit yourself.”
The vendor scoffs. “You’re gonna leave like that? Come on, your kid is hungry.”
“Not that hungry,” Jacen mutters and Hera has to stop herself from either beaming with pride or bursting into laughter. She’s raising either a master haggler or a manipulative monster, but she’ll deal with that later. His technique catches the vendor off guard.
“Fine. I can manage with four.”
Hera nods at the piles of meilooruns on the table. “That’s still a big inventory you’ve got left. I’m guessing you’ll do two.”
“Three.”
“Two and a Half.”
“Three,” he repeats.
“Two and a Half. If I get that rate, I’ll buy two, so you’ll get that five you wanted.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
She hands over the credits, picking out two of the fruits and handing one to Jacen.
“Thanks!” She says cheerfully. She waits until they’re out of hearing range before speaking.
“That was some sneaky work, Jace.”
“I know,” he takes a bite of the meiloorun. “But I know they’re your favorite, so I had to help out.”
She can tell he means it, which makes her heart nearly melt. He cares so much for others. “Did you really want them, or did you just pick meilooruns for me?”
“Weeeell…” he grins. “I wanted one too.”
“I’m glad,” she smiles, ruffling his hair.
“Heyyyy! Mom!” He wriggles away.
“Okay, okay, come on. We’ve got to head back home.”
He walks close to her side as they weave through the crowds. Hera doesn’t have to hold his hand for him to stay close, and she’s suddenly aware of how big he’s getting. Of course, he’s still a kid, only nine standard years old, but it seems like a few short years ago, he was learning to walk and she had to carry him through markets like this. She still had to cut his fruit into pieces—-
When did she get so sentimental?
You’ve always been sentimental about family, Syndulla.
Her thoughts are interrupted by Jacen coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the market street.
“Woah, come on, let’s keep it moving.” She tries to guide him out of the flow of foot traffic, but he doesn’t move. “Jacen—“ she hesitates, seeing his eyes are closed. She can tell he’s focused, as if he’s concentrating or trying to remember something. She leans down to his level, putting an arm around him protectively to shield him from the passing people who are already giving them dirty looks. “What’s wrong, love?”
Instead of answering, Jacen breaks away from her, running as fast as he can down the street. For a moment, Hera is frozen in shock. She’s never seen him react like this, run like this. Jacen disappears from her sight, which terrifies her into motion. She pushes past bodies, ignoring the annoyed protests, struggling to track her son through the crowd, which is too big and too dangerous. Though the Empire is technically defunct, and she has spent the last five years working to dismantle its remains, there are too many sympathizers left, and the galaxy has too many who would want to use or harm a Force-sensitive child.
Hera find Jacen stopped in front of a Mandalorian wearing full, pure beskar, armor.
“Jacen!” Hera calls, her voice sounding more frantic than she’d like. From what she knows of beskar, someone wearing this much, that’s this shiny is someone who has earned it. Someone not to be trifled with. “Jacen!” She calls again, more firmly. Jacen either doesn’t hear, or ignores her. He’s still staring up at the Mandalorian, who seems to have just noticed him. She nears the two of them as Jacen nods in response to whatever the Mandalorian has asked him.
“Jacen!” Hera puts a hand on his shoulder. “I am so sorry,” she says to the Mandalorian. “Come on, let’s not bother—“
“But I could hear him, Mom!”
Hera has no idea what he means.
“It’s all right,” the Mandalorian assures her, sounding more amused than inconvenienced. “I thought he might be lost.”
“No! I found him!” Jacen is practically vibrating with excitement.
“You found…me?” the Mandalorian asks.
“No, no, him!” Jacen points at the satchel at the Mandalorian’s side, partially hidden by his cloak. The Mandalorian grabs at the bag protectively, but Jacen reaches for it anyway. Hera pulls him back, mortified at his behavior, before noticing a small, three-fingered hand reaching out from the bag toward her son.
“Hello!” Jacen says, as if this is completely normal and expected.
Slowly, the Mandalorian lets go of the satchel, and a small green creature peeks out of it, its large ears raising with curiosity. Hera doesn’t recognize the species, but it appears to be a child, maybe even a baby.
“Hi! It is you, isn’t it?” Jacen asks. The child makes a small squeak of excitement in return.
Hera relaxes her grip in surprise. Had he…sensed this kid from a block away? She looks at the Mandalorian. It’s hard to read his expression since he has his helmet on, but his head tilts slightly in confusion.
Jacen is a happy kid, a perceptive kid, and he’s shown signs of talent in the Force since a young age, but he’s not one to go running up to strangers and treat them like old friends. But this…If Hera didn’t know better, she’d think Jacen and this child are currently having a silent conversation, but the child doesn’t seem to be able to speak, or at least hasn’t yet.
“Is—“ the Mandalorian hesitates, lowering his voice. “Can you understand him?” He’s directing his question toward Jacen.
“Uh,” Jacen hesitates, then looks back at Hera, as if suddenly realizing what he’s done. Hera’s taught Jacen to be careful about sharing details about himself with strangers. Hera glances at the Mandalorian in front of her. There’s not really any way they can back out of this without an explanation. However, the fact the Mandalorian asked such a strange question means his kid has likely exhibited signs of the Force. Hera goes with her gut feeling and nods at Jacen.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs.
“Sorta,” he replies quietly. “It’s like—a feeling. I knew he wanted me to find him.”
So he had sensed this kid from across the market. “Have you ever understood anyone like this before?” Hera asks.
Jacen shakes his head. “That’s why I had to find him. I’m sorry I ran.”
She squeezes his shoulder gently. “Just take me with you and tell me what’s going on next time, okay?”
The Mandalorian hesitates for a moment, taking in this information before looking back at Hera. “Is he a Jedi?” He asks so plainly, Hera feels the urge to shush him. Where has he been the last couple of decades?
“Jedi haven’t been around for years," she replies quickly. It’s a non-answer, and the Mandalorian knows it.
“And yet, this little one has the powers of a Jedi,” he gestures to his child, who’s currently handing a small silver ball to Jacen, babbling something. Jacen smiles, returning it to the child’s palm.
Slowly, the orb lifts in levitation, hovering over his hand. It’s so natural, so effortless that Hera is frozen unexpected wave of emotion. Signs of the Force in Jacen are much more subtle, but this….this is like Ezra, like Kanan, like old newsreels of wartime generals long lost to time and Imperial propaganda.
“You’ve seen something like this before,” the Mandalorian observes bluntly.
Hera doesn’t answer, tries to hide her expression, but it’s not a question.
“I’m trying to find others of his kind. Others who would give him a safe home,” he continues.
“I’m sorry,” Hera says, taking the opportunity for retreat. “I don’t think I can help you.” She’s supposed to be visiting this sector quietly, away from the fleet. The last thing she needs is someone knowing anything about Jacen.
He seems to study for her a moment, and she doesn’t like it. He’s already figured out too much.
“I just met a Jedi. She was able to communicate with the child.”
It’s about the only thing he could have said to get her to stop in her tracks. The only one Hera can think of is Ahsoka, but Hera has no idea how he would have tracked her down. She feigns ignorance.
“A real Jedi, huh? Well perhaps you should return to them.”
She can tell the Mandalorian is thinking, trying to decide whether to reveal more.
“Ahsoka Tano was her name,” he says finally. “But she wouldn’t take him. She wouldn’t train him. Something about ‘too much fear.’”
Hera frowns. Now she’s listening.
“But,” he continues. “She could understand him without using words. Like your kid can.”
Jacen laughs, as if the child has just told him a funny joke, although still, no words have been exchanged out loud. Hera watches her son in wonder for a moment, then looks back at the Mandalorian. It wasn’t every day she ran into another person with a kid like hers. He seems genuine, and there’s something earnest about the way he’s sharing this information with her. Like he’s trying to be helpful, or else, he really needs help himself.
“Was a Mandalorian woman traveling with her?” Hera can’t help but ask, because last she heard, Sabine was with Ahsoka.
He shakes his head. “There was no Mandalorian with her at the time.” Hera’s heart sinks. She hopes Sabine is all right. “Although one named Bo-Katan told me of Tano, if that’s who you mean?”
He says the name of the heiress as if it’s unfamiliar on his tongue. A Mandalorian unfamiliar with the last known mand’alor? Who is this guy?
She shakes her head in response.
“I will not bother you all further,” he says, glancing at his small kid with fondness before looking back up. “But if you know anything that could help, I’d be grateful to hear it.”
She can tell he’s genuine in his request. If he’s after her or her kid, he’d have done something by now. If the man doesn’t know who Bo-Katan is, there’s no way he’s heard of a General Syndulla. She could walk away right now, and he would let them go.
Besides, if Ahsoka thinks this cute kid has too much fear in him, than what would she think of Jacen now? Hera doesn’t pretend to understand ancient Jedi philosophy. She’s done her best, but she worries it’s not enough.
The Mandalorian waits patiently for a response.
He’s just trying to do the best he can for his small family, the less cynical side of her thinks. And she’s a sucker for helping those she can see herself in.
“Maybe we should talk.”
-
They’ve found their way out of the market and to a small, empty corner park that’s not much more than a small patch of grass and some benches. But it has good visibility while being out of the way of traffic. She doubts the Mandalorian will start any trouble in such a public spot.
With more care than she was expecting, the Mandalorian lifts his child from the carrier and sets him down in the grass. He is small, but still waddles toward Jacen with enthusiasm. The two children stay close to their guardians, continuing their silent conversation. Jacen rolls the small silver orb toward the child and the child catches it midair with the Force.
Hera sits on the closest bench so she can keep an eye on everything. The Mandalorian sits next to her, a respectful distance away.
“You’ll have to forgive me for keeping things to myself,” she begins. “The galaxy is not kind to children like mine.”
He is watching Jacen and his child. “You’re wise to be cautious.”
She nods, understanding what’s unspoken. He’s likely seen his fair share of trouble. She watches Jacen for a moment. When he scrunches his face up in concentration, he can make the silver orb roll across the ground on its own. Hera feels a sudden tightness in her chest: a mix of pride and terror.
“Your child—“ Hera notices the Mandalorian’s hand twitch uncomfortably at the assumption. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—“
“No, it’s all right. We are a clan of two.”
There’s newness to the declaration, something he’s still getting used to. Hera smiles, knowing there’s a story there. “Has your child always shown such strength with his powers?”
“Yes. Yours?”
She thinks for a moment. “Small things. Not usually moving objects. Talking to strangers with his mind is new. Usually, the universe just seems to be a bit bigger and brighter to him. He notices everything: people’s feelings, old memories…It’s hard to explain. I don’t know if he can even explain it to me yet.”
The Mandalorian seems to understand. “You know of Tano. Have you come across any other Jedi?”
She hesitates, then smiles sadly. “Ah, once or twice. Unfortunately they are both…gone.” Even after nearly a decade, the word still feels hollow. It doesn’t properly explain things.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He lets the silence sit, and so Hera guesses he is also no stranger to loss.
“I should have taken notes when his father was alive,” Hera says, surprised at her own admission. “He’d have understood him more.”
“He had the same powers?”
She nods. “He used them to save my life and the lives of others. Several times actually,” she smiles, then thinks for a moment. “There’s a third Jedi I’ve met, but I’m not sure where he is now. He was new to learning about his power as well. Born past the time of the Jedi proper.”
“Well, it seems we might both be at a loss.” He stops, then decides to continue. “Tano did give me directions to a seeing stone. If Grogu meditates there, it’s supposed to be able to call a Jedi…“ he trails off, as if unsure of what he’s saying.
“Huh,” Hera almost laughs. She knows how it feels to try and describe Jedi practices as an outsider.
“What’s that?”
“It’s just, wouldn’t have been the strangest Jedi thing I’ve seen or heard of.”
The Mandalorian nods slowly. “From the two others you knew?”
She sighs. “They were…are my family. You see plenty of weird things when Jedi are involved. Things you can’t explain.”
“I understand that,” he looks to the child, Grogu.
They watch their children in silence for a few more minutes.
“So you’re headed to this ‘seeing stone’ next?”
“That’s the plan.”
Hera wonders what Kanan or Ezra would say. “And Ahsoka said….he had too much fear?” It worries her. It doesn’t quite sound like the Fulcrum she knew.
“Grogu told her that someone rescued him from the Jedi Temple in its last days. He doesn’t remember much.”
“Wait. The Jedi Temple?” Hera frowns. “But that’s — that was over twenty years ago.”
“His species ages differently. He trained at the Temple when it was still operating.”
Hera suddenly feels a chill. What has the small child toddling next to her son seen in his lifetime? Ahsoka’s own memories about that time are likely something she doesn’t wish to recall. Hera remembers Kanan’s hesitance to train Ezra in the beginning. Perhaps Ahsoka feels similarly. Sometimes it seems everyone in this galaxy has a host of memories they’d rather not confront.
“So this seeing stone is your last bet unless you randomly run into a Jedi?”
He nods.
“And if a Jedi responds to the stone’s call and wishes to take him, you will let him go?” She asks.
“It is my duty,” he says simply. But she can tell in the way he watches his child that it might break his heart. “And you?”
She shrugs. “I’ve never been good at letting go.” She turns to the Mandalorian. “I don’t know much, but if you need anything—“
“You likely know more about Jedi than me.”
Hera thinks of Ezra and Kanan again and smiles. Honestly, it’s absurd how many Force users she’s run into across her lifetime. She’s slow to trust and knows nothing about this man, but she knows a good parent, a desperate parent, when she sees one. She looks back at the Mandalorian, knowing she’s probably crazy for what she’s about to say. But it’s too late. She’s made her decision. “We could go with you.”
He turns quickly, surprised. “You don’t know me.”
“Maybe, but it’s very hard to fake being a good father.”
It seems to take him a second to process that she’s talking about him, much less paying him a compliment, which only increases her trust in him.
“Besides, it’s not every day you run into someone with a Jedi kid. I’d like my son to make his own choices about what he wants to do with his talents, but he should know about the Jedi and their history. This place might help him too.” She smiles at the two kids. Jacen has now offered to share his meiloorun with Grogu. “Look, I’m not offended if you turn me down. You’re trying to keep your kid safe, I get it.”
But she can tell he’s actually considering her offer.
“There are people after him,” he admits. “I don’t want to endanger your child.”
“I could say the same for us. I appreciate your honesty though.”
He seems a bit surprised but doesn’t ask further questions. Hera can tell he’s used to minding his own business and wonders again how he ended up with this kid.
“The stone is on Tython,” he says quietly. “You have your own transport, or are you looking for passage?”
“I’ve got my own ride.” She’s running through her mental log of planets. Tython is familiar, but very inner core. She’s never been there. This must be very old Jedi ruins. “You?”
“Yes.”
“I can follow you to Tython, then.” She has other things she needs to do, but she can put them on hold while she does this for her kid.
He nods. “I have to put a few things in order first, but I’m docked nearby.”
She thinks for a moment. “Here,” she gives him her spare comm frequency. “In case you get into any delays.” She nods at the kids. “Now our next challenge is just separating these two.”
“Grogu,” the Mandalorian says. His child immediately turns his head to look at him. “Come on, we’ve gotta go.” Grogu looks back at Jacen, uncertain.
“We’re leaving?” Jacen asks Hera.
“Yep.”
“Already?!”
“It’s okay,” she smiles. “We’re just going to load up and follow them. We’re going on a little trip to check out some Jedi stuff.”
Jacen’s eyes widen in excitement. “Wait…Really?”
She nods. “So you’ll see him again.”
“Good,” he turns to Grogu. “We’ll see each other soon, then.” Grogu doesn’t say anything, per usual, but blinks in a way that looks like agreement.
The Mandalorian scoops up Grogu. “I’ll call you from a Razor Crest around 1600.”
“A Razor Crest?” Hera is impressed. “Don’t see those every day.”
He shrugs. “See you soon.”
Hera watches as the Mandalorian and Grogu walk away before she turns to Jacen.
“So, wanna see if our supplies have been delivered to the Ghost?”
“Sure,” he replies, still looking at Grogu, distracted.
She studies him for a moment, thinking about how this must feel for him. She wants to understand. She wishes she could know what he’s feeling.
“You want to talk about it?”
Jacen shrugs, clearly overwhelmed.
“Okay,” she tries to keep her tone light. “Well, let me know if you do.” She’ll ask again later, when they’re safe in the Ghost.
Their shipment of supplies is waiting at their docking bay, and Hera starts loading the ship up. Chopper rolls out and complains about how expensive things were.
“Yeah, well, we’re getting reimbursed, so—“ she trails off as Jacen runs into the ship. Normally, she’d make him come back out and help, but he probably could use the time to think. She finishes loading and heads back in, checking to make sure things are in order for the flight to Tython as she makes her way to find Jacen. They’ve still got a little time before the Mandalorian is supposed to meet them.
She knocks on his cabin door. “Hey, Jace, can we talk?”
There’s a few moments of silence before a quiet, “I guess.”
Hera lets herself into his room. He’s sprawled out, laying on his bunk and staring at the ceiling.
“That was a lot, huh?” She sits down on the edge of the bed.
He turns his head toward her and rolls his eyes. It’s been awhile since she’s had teenagers aboard, but she’s getting sudden flashbacks. Clearly she’s said the wrong thing.
“Hey, come on. I really do want to help.”
“It wasn’t a lot, it was just…different.”
She nods, waiting for him to continue.
“I can’t really explain it, but — it was like I could hear Grogu in my head. Not really words but like…a holo of what he was thinking. He knew I was like him.”
“That must have been new.”
“Yeah.” Jacen sits up, thinking for a moment before more words come spilling out. “Like, sometimes when we pass by people, I can tell they have maybe something different, something like the Force, but it’s like they don’t know it, so it’s covered by um—“ he frowns, searching for a way to explain it. “It’s like you know when a ship is hidden by a cloaking device but you can still sort of see its shape if you concentrate really hard?”
Hera smiles softly at the metaphor. “Yeah?”
“Grogu was kind of similar, to that, but then—then he must have noticed me and he not only turned off cloaking, he also started sending me a message. A signal.”
“That makes sense. And so that’s when you stopped in the market?”
“Yeah. I was trying to figure out what was happening.”
“I see.” She thinks for a moment, wishing for the millionth time she knew more about the Force first-hand. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah?”
“When you’re just...doing regular stuff, do you have your ‘cloaking device’ on?”
His eyes brighten, and she knows she’s caught onto something. “Yeah!”
She’s not sure how to feel about that. “Can you tell me more about that?”
“Well it’s because—“ he frowns, thinking again. “Cause if I don’t, everything is too loud.”
She thinks of when he was younger, when being around too many people was hard for him. Usually, the universe just seems to be a bit bigger and brighter to him, she had told the Mandalorian.
“Other people and their emotions?”
He nods. “Everything.”
“So the cloaking device is more like a deflector shield for you?”
“It’s kinda both. If anyone was looking for me, they’d have pay a lot of attention.”
“How’d you figure out how to do this?”
He shrugs.
Hera takes a breath, mentally going over the ways she’s explained that he needs to be careful about where and how he shares about his gifts. Has she been holding him back? She’s spent years fighting for a safer galaxy for him, but she doesn’t want him to be scared or feel like he has to hide.
“Is it hard to keep this cloaking and shielding up?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “Not really.”
“I saw you moving stuff with the Force. Is that something you knew you could do?”
He shrugs. “I never really tried. It’s kind of hard though.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure the shielding was hard at first too.” She’s thinking of Kanan again, wondering if he did the same thing when in hiding to avoid being noticed. You couldn’t completely shut off the Force though, she knew that. And yet, Jacen had taught himself all this.
“Mom?”
“Mmhmm?”
“Are you okay?”
She sighs. Nothing gets past this kid. “I’m just thinking about how you’ve had to learn all this yourself.”
“Not really. You’ve taught me plenty of stuff.”
She nods. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide this part of yourself. I want you to be able to choose what to do with this gift.”
“And so that’s why we’re going to this place?”
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll both learn something new, huh?” She elbows him gently. He grins.
“I’d like that.”
“All right, well, let’s get going then.”
“Can I fly pilot?”
“Mmmm….no.”
“Pleaaaase?”
“Not on this lane yet. But soon, okay?”
“Okay,” he grumbles.
“You want to help with flight prep?”
He nods, jumping up, and follows her to the cockpit.