Figlia d' 'a Tempesta
Memories of Thyferra resurfaced in hazy snippets. The feeling of being hollowed-out as the Force vanished continued to stay with Cora. Now, she felt hollow for a different reason.
How much fighting had she done - Woostri, Coruscant, Arkania, and so many more - with very little to show for it? Sure, her true use seemed to come in the footnotes with the organization of refugee camps and the hours upon hours spent triaging civilians and combatants alike, tallying the cost of war in grim arithmetic.
There was pride in that sort of work. It was necessary. It wasn't as lofty as a battlefield victory, but Cora wasn't chasing notoriety or glory or even acknowledgement.
She only wanted to prevent tragedy before it could happen.
Maybe she had, in some small way that she would never notice because how could you measure a tragedy that didn't happen? This flavor of thought kept her awake at night. The High Republic staggered. Her family was a mess.
Luciana smiled wide enough for her mother to see the two tiny, white teeth that had recently erupted from her gums. Makko held their now-standing daughter in place as Cora held her hands out. Her voice was soft, sweet, coaxing.
The hollow void had filled in an instant, overflowing with sunlight the moment she'd returned home. The Republic had taken a nasty blow, but it still stood strong. Her family might've been complicated, but every breath she now took was for Makko and her daughter.
Luciana took a wobbling step. One tiny foot padded atop the bar of warm sunlight. She paused, hesitating at the strength in her own little legs before she looked up at her smiling mother.
A second step sent her shakily over the stone tile, where she collapsed into Cora's waiting arms.
Makko Vyres
