• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Then you married his wife and adopted his son.”

My grandfather’s voice grew distant. “I’d known Scerra all my life. We’d always been good friends, and we both lost our best friend at the same time. Our shared grief brought us more closely together and our shared lives provided us with strong roots together. I have always chosen to think that Nejaa had an inkling of his fate and what would happen to us after his passing. I like to think knowing his friends would salvage love out of their mourning made his death that much easier.”

He patted me on the shoulder. “The dust down here has my eyes watering. I’m going to head back up. We can pull the chest out of here, if you want, or you can open it and just look at the things here. Your choice. You are the last Halcyon, so they belong to you.”

“Thank you.” I took a step toward the case, then turned and faced my grandfather. “You’re wrong in one thing, though.”

Tears glistened in the half-light. “Am I?”

I nodded. “I don’t see myself as the last Halcyon. I’m the last Horn. I just hope, in this chest and in the garden above, there’s everything I need to guarantee both lines will continue.”

Alone in the still darkness, I opened the trunk. Dust trickled down from the lid, filling the air. I expected a musty odor of old clothes that had long since mildewed away to nothing, but instead I found a chest packed neatly and tightly. All the clothing had been folded precisely and sealed in clear plastine pouches. I carefully pulled one after another out but opened none of them. Still, from what I could see in the glowrod light, the clothes had all been laundered, leading me to suspect the Caamasi Jedi had taken great pains to care for his friend’s effects.

Toward the bottom of the trunk I found boots encased in plastine, as well as a cloak and blanket similarly pouched. Below that I saw the lid of a hinged compartment that I lifted up. Inside it was thick foam padding with hollowed spaces for various items. I easily recognized the slot meant for Nejaa’s lightsaber. A small first aid kit, a shaving kit and a set of eating utensils all sat in their appropriate slots. Odd coins filled other slots, as did power packs for a variety of items and a positively antique comlink.

What immediately attracted my attention, however, was the rectangular slot filled with static holograms. I fished them out and carried them back over to where the sun’s light filtered down through the long chimney. One by one, I flipped through them and found myself smiling though I recognized no one.

I figured out which person had to be Nejaa after a couple of shots. From other items in the picture, especially the lightsaber clipped to his belt, I could tell he’d stood slightly taller than me, but no taller than my father, and he had my trim build. We didn’t really look that much alike, except around the eyes and chin. Still, he stood there easily and openly, feet shoulder-width apart, hands open, a smile on his face and life in his eyes. I recognized in his stance the way my father used to stand around and knew I’d adopted the stance as well.

The other figure I found easy to recognize was a Caamasi. Golden down covered him except around the eyes, where purple fur formed a mask around his eyes that spread tendrils up and back to stripe his skull. The Caamasi’s large, dark eyes seemed full of inquisitiveness, not the sadness marking the Caamasi I’d seen; but then I’d only seen Caamasi rarely and this shot had been taken before they’d almost all been wiped out. The two of them—my grandfather and his friend—looked weary in some shots, but that was to be expected of people fighting a war. That they also looked content spoke a lot about their commitment to keeping the galaxy safe.

Some of the shots had people I recognized in them. I saw a very young Jan Dodonna standing with Nejaa. I recalled the general having asked me in Lusankya if he knew my grandfather. He had indeed known him, but I’d not known who my grandfather was at the time. Jan saved my life in that prison. Had he saved yours,