Her gnarled hands shook as she slipped the letter inside the envelope. The stationary was thin and cheap with no laser embossed seals of nobility or elaborate gilt edges. It was the cheap paper servants used.
Servant. The Republic worlds thought it a more dignified title than slave. The little pay and lodging that came with it, implied a better status—with freedoms, that mere slaves would never enjoy. After a lifetime spent toiling for impatient nobles, those freedoms seemed irrelevant.
Her life held so much promise. She was born from solid Imperial stock. Even as a child, she was proud and honourable, but those qualities weren’t enough to save her family. The details of that night had waned over the years—she couldn’t even remember her parent’s faces anymore, let alone why they were executed.
She did remember a smuggler. He caught her wandering the streets and took her in. After a few terrifying months of being cooped up on his ship, helping him to hide relics and trick Hutts, he dropped her off on Alderaan to live with ‘some good friends of his.’ He promised her, they would give her a good life, and they did. They fed her, clothed her and trained her to be a nurse. In the absence of true family, these people were as close as one could get, even if they were Republic sympathizers.
She sighed at the memory. That was a lifetime ago, and the child she had inherited needed to be dealt with. She had cared for him for five years, but it was time to let him go. He was a good boy, as boys go. He had special gifts. A great power slept within him. She would miss him, but not for long. The pain in her chest reminded her daily, she didn’t have much time left.
Dragging the pen across the envelope, she finished her task.
“Master Jedi, I know your order discourages attachments to the past, but please, consider this my last request. Give this to the boy when he’s old enough. So that he understands.”
The Jedi nodded and took the envelope. “Did you want a moment before I take him?”
“No. Just leave me.”
The Jedi waited until his new charge slept, before opening the old nursemaid’s letter. His brow furrowed as he read…
By the time you read this, I will be long dead. My name doesn’t matter. It isn’t out of some desperate vanity, that I’m writing to you. It’s so that you can know your beginnings.
I was nursemaid for one of the top noble houses on the world I came to call home. I devoted most of the years of my life to my master’s well being. I share this with you, so that you may know that I was knowledgeable and respected in my position—that these aren’t mad ramblings from some old woman.
When you study your Republic’s history, you will come to know of an attack on the world you were native to, Alderaan. The battle was led by a powerful Sith—Darth Malgus. I recognized him, because I was born an Imperial. He was stunning, and ruthless. So that you don’t wonder, it was not I, who betrayed our world. I do suspect there was a greater reason for the battle, than merely showing dominance. It is my hope, that you will come to take my meaning.
The day you were born, fire rained from the skies. The mountains heaved and crumbled and the others that live on this world burrowed deep into the soil. While I was away tending to my master’s needs, Imperial ships bombarded the planet. Carriers full of troopers descended and our home was reduced to little more than a crater. I hid in the rubble and watched.
A Sith Lord appeared from the dusty shambles and stalked the area. He was desperate in his search. He used his skills to upturn wreckage and fuselage but found nothing. The world was burning around us. It could have been minutes or hours. I don’t know. I waited for the Lord to leave.
Once he was gone, I gathered what nerves I had left, and began to search for my master’s family. They had all perished in the bombing. Lost and alone, for the second time in my life, I was at a loss. My home was everything to me.
I wandered aimlessly, when I heard a faint mewling. I followed the sound, and found you. Newly born, completely alone…how this was possible was beyond me. An infant, such as you were, should have succumbed to the attack, or the cold, but there you were. I took you and cared for you.
When the battle faded, I made inquiries about you, but none knew anyone who expected a child. So I kept you. Your gifts were unlike any I’d ever seen, even for one so young. I still struggle with the fact of your existence. It was as if you were borne of the battle, forged from fire and prayer. Look within yourself, and you will understand clearly what it is, I am trying to tell you. Your birth, was like no normal birth. You were utterly alone.
A distant memory...~
The Jedi Master ran his hand over his chin and exhaled heavily. Slipping the letter back into it’s envelope, he leaned back in his chair. Truth was the domain of the Jedi, but what would this knowledge bring? This was not a decision for him alone. It was one for the council to make, when the time was right.