Shadows of Tomorrow

Chapter 59 - Visions in the Night

"Can I hold it, Daddy?" six-year-old Vizma asks hopefully, looking up at him.

Marr looks between her and the purple lightsaber humming in his hands. "I told you, when you're older. It's a very dangerous weapon."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?" The ability to make puppy eyes faces is completely unfair.

And it might work, if they weren't discussing something so incredibly risky. "Not right now," Marr replies firmly.

She pouts, then brightens again. "Can I touch it?"

"Okay," he concedes at last, deactivating the blade and kneeling next to her. She lets out an over enthusiastic squeal, reaching out and wrapping her tiny hands around the hilt.

Marr doesn't let go of it, of course, but she doesn't seem to care. It still defines as "holding" in her eyes.

"Can I turn it on?"

"Maybe later. It's bedtime," Marr decides, clipping the hilt back to his belt to put away later.

"'M not tired!"

"You have lessons early tomorrow," Marr reminds, reaching down to lift her into his arms, "Come on."

"'kay," she mumbles, snuggling against him.

He wonders, for the briefest moment, if this is anything like how masters felt towards their padawans. This feeling of unending protectiveness and love, knowing that he'd do anything to take care of his child. If it's anything like how Anakin felt towards Ahsoka, and how Obi-Wan felt towards him. Obviously, masters aren't supposed to see their padawans as their children, and he doesn't think most of them ever did, but it's hard to say.

Shrugging the thought aside, he carries Vizma into her bedroom, setting her back on the floor. "Daddy?" she asks.

"Yes, little one?"

"What was the Jedi Temple like?"

She knows that he used to be a Jedi, and a little about it, and she also knows not to breathe a word about it to anyone. Little children can, in fact, keep secrets very well, at least when it has to do with... magic.

Also, that's a hard question to answer. "The Imperial Palace used to be the Temple," Marr replies, "But it's been remodeled and made... fancier." And more Sithly, he can only imagine. "Most of the Jedi lived there, though there are smaller Temples across the galaxy."

"Why are they called 'temples'?"

Because... they are? How does he answer that? "Because the Jedi are more than an organization," he answers, "They're... a culture of their own." Religion. Sort of.

She climbs onto the edge of her bed, looking up at him. "I wanna see the Temple."

Yes, well, the feelings are mutual. Though he can't imagine what it would be like going back there now. "Maybe someday." After they destroy the Empire. Whenever that happens. It won't happen until Sidious is destroyed, and... Is there anyone left who's powerful enough?

Vizma lays down, curling up in bed, and he tucks her in.

"Can you tell me the story of when you stopped the virus bombs?" she asks hopefully, suppressing a yawn.

He chuckles quietly. "You've heard that one before, and I don't think it it's a very good bedtime story. How about I tell you about when... the Emperor decided to bring a giant beast right to the capital?"

The Zillo beast. He'd been at the Temple when that happened and had seen some of the circus out the window, though no padawans were called to get involved because of the dangers.