((Open to interactions))
Jyoti had lost much during her Outer Rim campaigns, but now on Life Day, it was a time to remember what she still had.
So now she stood at the base of one of the huge decorated Wroshyr trees with those she treasured the most - her family. Her husband
Bastian stood by her side while Casval and Artesia bounded through snow behind them, tossing the powered stuff at each other, sometimes telepathically. Normally she would have wagged her finger at the twins to settle down, but it was Life Day, and she had gone so long without them that she let it slide today. However, eventually she did wave them over as she took a knee before the tree a small
force field generator in hand. Bastian meanwhile held a large chrome cylinder for her.
A fresh spike of pain rode up her lame left leg as she bent the knee. She really still needed her cane when she wasn't using the Force to enhance her mobility, but she didn't want to worry the twins by using it in front of them. There had been a reason she had yet to return to the Core so long after being crushed half to death on Nar Kreeta.
The Jedi Shadow excelled in hiding.
"It's a shame that New Holstice was overtaken by the Sith. The
Jedi Monument is gone." She flipped on the generator, a small whine being produced as it powered up. "This is why I keep Great River mobile. They'll have to work to wreck the Praxeum."
Bastian kneeled beside her, unscrewing the top of the cylinder.
"True, but it can always be rebuilt. Let's consider this the first step."
He uncapped the cylinder over the generator emitter, an eclipse of
glowing white moths erupting into the night air. Bastion pulled away the cylinder while Jyoti flipped another switch simultaneously to activate the generator. When the moths continued to ascended, they would find their progress halted by a gentle force field. Eventually, the moths acclimated to their new surroundings, flitting about in concentric patterns.
"Mom, what's that?" Casval asked as he plopped on the snow beside her.
"They're talking?!"
"Yes," she confirmed. "They're called Memory Moths. They can recite a single name whispered to them forever."
"Like who?"
"Those we wish to remember in passing...our Jedi friends at Great River helped me with the names."
"There's so many..." Artesia noted while still standing.
"Yes...there are," she agreed.
She didn't have the heart to tell her daughter that she didn't possess even remotely enough moths to cover all the dead among their ranks.
The final path of Jedi was one of sacrifice.