The Moon

[innitmarvelous_og]

The air is thick with the sweet—some would say intoxicating—scent of blooming flowers, flowers the likes of which Alexsandr Kallus had never known in his childhood. How could he have, when he’d never set foot on this world until after he'd left behind his former lives?

 

The first life, lived in service to the Galactic Empire. The second, one of defection from that Empire, followed by service to help build the New Republic. But even that life had been abandoned many years ago.

 

The low sun cast its beams across the floor of his study, pulling him back to the present, away from memories of distant battles and wars.

 

Laughter drew his attention away from the window, and a smile graced his face as he turned toward where his granddaughter was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching some sort of children's entertainment on her holoprojector. That had been the source of her laughter, he surmised, as she continued to watch the images flickering before her.

 

A moment or so later, the program ended with a soft swell of music, and she quickly shut it off with a sigh. As he watched, her eyes then drifted upward toward the painting that hung on the far wall of the study.

 

There was nothing dramatic about the presentation, or anything that would catch the eye of any art collector. It was simply a muted, silvery moon that suspended against a glistering sea of stars. The strokes the artist had used were gentle, almost seemed to be hesitant, like the artist had tried their best to put on the canvas not what the moon was, but rather what it actually felt like to behold it.

 

For another person who saw it, it was a quiet, peaceful piece, he supposed. But for him, it was a reminder. Certainly not of the moon itself—for, as it wasn’t that fateful moon of Geonosis—but rather of the turning point that Bahryn had been.

 

It put ever-present in his mind the place and a moment in time when something in him had inexplicably shifted. The seed that had been planted there had been a tiny one, but eventually, in the days that followed, compassion began to replace duty. It was where his future had forever changed its course.

 

For years, almost since she was old enough to talk, Miri had been asking him the same question whenever she visited: “Dahvri, why do you love this picture so much? It’s just a moon, right? And not even one of our moons!”

 

In response, he always told her the same thing, even if his answer never ever seemed to satiate her curiosity.

 

A soft smile often graced his face as he would scoop her up, and while holding her close, he would answer, “It’s not just a moon, Stardust. It’s here to make sure that I never forget the important things.”

 

Her little nose scrunched up in an endearing way as she asked, “What important things, Dahvri?”

 

He never did answer her right away. Then there were times that his answer was a chuckle and a kiss on top of her sand-colored hair. Still other times, he would look at the painting, weighing silently just how much of the truth he could tell her that she’d be old enough to understand.

 

On this day, he let her question hang in the air a little longer than usual.

 

Finally, his voice was soft when he spoke. “There are times when you will find yourself feeling lost, and everything seems bleak or hopeless. You shouldn’t give up or give in, because the galaxy—or perhaps it is the Force, as the Jedi of old believed—will send a light to you.

 

The light doesn’t always look like a light, or it might not be what you expected. And there are times, Stardust, it hasn’t seemed like help at all. But even so, it’s there all the same. And once it comes, if you’re wise enough—and I know that you are—you take hold of the light and follow it to where it leads.”

 

Miri thought about his words, and her eyes grew wide as she asked, “You mean a light like, uh, a star map?”

 

Kallus’ smile widened, and he nodded. “Precisely, like a star map. A star map that will eventually lead you home.”