The tale was told, the story complete. All three of them stared downward at the table; it seemed hard to look into each other's eyes.

"Thirty years," the man said, echoing Den Dhur's final words. "I can barely image thirty years."

"You're older than that," the woman said softly. "Your body, anyway."

He shifted, looked at her. He examined her chin, her cheeks, her hair, everything but her eyes. "You're Scout, aren't you?"

"Nowadays I usually go by Officer Esterhazy." Her smile was sad. "Nobody's called me Scout in thirty years. Nobody except Den, anyway."

Somehow he couldn't bear to look at the Sullustan. "And have you and Den been together, all that time?"

"Not all of it," Den said. "We split up for a while, trying to find Laranth. And afterwards, well, we both found things to keep us busy."

"You're… a medical officer? A doctor?"

Scout- he couldn't think of her by another name- nodded. "I tried to take after someone I admired."

"But you were… are a Jedi."

She kept smiling, still sadly. "Like Djinn used to say, Jedi is something you do. For me, it's been about helping people. It always has been. And that's what I've been doing, all this time, in my own way. Quietly. A lot of the time I don't even use the Force at all."

"Right under the Empire's nose for twenty years," Den said with gruff admiration.

"I was never strong enough for them to care," Scout said.

"But the Jedi are back," he man pressed. "Luke Skywalker, he's set up a whole new academy on Yavin 4. You should go to them. You should try and-"

"It's not for me," Scout shook her head.

"Did you go there? Did you see it for yourself?"

"No, and I don't have much to offer either."

"But you do! You lived through the old Order, you saw it fall! You know how to avoid the mistakes they made last time."

"Maybe. I made a lot of mistakes myself back then. But Skywalker's getting off on the right foot, I think."

"How do you know that?"

"He's letting his students love, marry, have families. He's letting them take part in real life, not locking them up in the Temple right after they're born." Her smile got a little warmer. "I know Djinn would have liked that."

For some reason, he still felt disappointed. "So you're just… staying here."

"I'm doing my job," she said.

The room fell into silence again. He mustered the strength to turn and look at the Sullustan. He almost flinched away when he saw those big black eyes, boring into him.

"What about you?" he asked. "You aren't with the police or CSF, are you?"

"No," Den admitted. "Believe it or not, I've started doing journalism again. Turns out it's a lot more fun now that the Empire's gone. My skills were a little rusty, though."

"Then what did you do for thirty years?"

Den stared at him, just stared. His body tightened with fear he couldn't explain. "Were you… looking for them?"

"For a long time." Den's voice was dry, heavy, sad. "But eventually, I pretty much convinced myself that there was nothing I could do. That I'd never know."

Silence again. They were staring at him; he wanted to get up and run out of the room but there was no place to go.

Then, softly, Scout asked, "Do you know what your name is?"

He felt like he was submerged under water, thrashed about by hard currents. "That's… a very hard question."

"What do people call you?" Den leaned forward.

He closed his eyes, like that would chase them away, but of course it didn't.

"Where were you born?" asked Scout. "Who were your parents?"

He felt cold tears run down his face. "You used to call me… I-Five."

The silence, the darkness, seemed to last forever. Then Den asked, "What else do you remember?"

"When you told that story… sometimes it felt so vivid it was like was remembering it myself. I could see the faces of people I never knew, places I'd never been. But Jax… I could never remember his face." With great effort, he opened his eyes and looked at them both. "It's my face, isn't it?"

Scout nodded. "What else do you remember?"

"I don't know!" He pounded the table with a fist. "These memories… They're not mine! I was… I am a private investigator. I've been working on Coruscant since the Empire was around, helping people..."

"What were you before then?"

"I…. I could never remember. I just… tried not to think about it."

"And when you did?" asked Den.

"I felt pain. Loss." He blinked away new tears. "I think I remember a little about Lath Melray. He was brilliant, strange… and so alone. But I was never alone. Not with you and Jax..."

He shuddered. He looked at his hands. They were worn pink human hands, but somehow he was expecting them to be burnished metal or smooth green flesh.

"Do you want to remember more?" Scout asked.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He felt like everything he knew, everything he'd done, everything he'd even thought was about to be washed away.

Then he understood that it was already gone.

He gave a short, jagged nod. Scout reached out and placed a hand on the top of his head. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and-

-he remembered everything.

The next thing he knew his face was pressed against the cool metal tabletop. His skin tingled with cold sweat, his hands were shaking. His chest heaved with fast deep breaths.

His lips, suddenly dry, whispered, "My turn."

"What is that?" the woman asked.

Painfully, he tried to sit upright again. He looked at Scout, then at Den, like he was seeing them for the first time. Their faces seemed so layered, now, half-buried by thirty years of trials and losses.

"Why did you say that?" Scout asked again. "My turn."

He shuddered. "Jax told me that. Right before he… before we..."

Scout got that bittersweet smile again. "Thracia said he whispered something to you, right before he shut down your droid body. I always wondered what it was."

"Thracia," he repeated.

"Do you remember her?" asked Den. "The old woman?"

"I remember Naboo, and what she did for us there… And afterward..."

"What happened when you woke up?" asked Scout. "Were you confused?"

"I didn't remember anything. I didn't know who I was." He stared down at his hands and tried to remember the first time he'd seen them that way. "Thracia… She was there with me. She was so exhausted, but she said we had to flee. And I went up to the cockpit… I didn't know what I was doing."

"We tried to call you," Den said. "I had no idea what was going on, but Scout, she had the Force, so she sort of knew."

"I panicked. Jumped us to hyperspace without even looking where we were going." He swallowed. "We were lucky it didn't kill us."

"What happened after that?"

"We landed on… a planet… No, a space station. And this woman, she said she wanted to help me, give me back my memories, but I was scared. I panicked. I ran. I got on a ship and left her."

"That's what she told me," said Scout.

"You found her, then?"

Scout hugged herself. "I was chasing rumors about this old woman who healed people and told fortunes in the Outer Rim. I eventually found her at Bimmiel. She was very old by then, but… I was there for the end. She told me what she could."

"I shouldn't have run." He kept staring at his hands. "I should have stayed with her, but I was scared… I was out of my mind. I didn't understand anything."

"Thracia gave us what we needed though," Den said. "She told us you stole away on a ship bound for Coruscant."

"She taught me how to unlock your memories too," Scout added.

"I wanted to go home," he said.

"I guess that should have been obvious," admitted Den, "But we'd been avoiding Coruscant. Aside from all those political reasons, it's pretty much the worst planet in the galaxy to try and find a single person."

"But you did." He looked up at them. "How long did it take?"

Scout took a breath and said, "Twenty years, give or take."

"Twenty years..."

"A lot of other stuff kept getting in the way too," Den reminded him.

"I know. I remember."

Palpatine's death, the fracturing of the Empire, the Krytos plague, the back-and-forth conquests that ravaged the planet before the New Republic finally took full control.

"We never gave up," Den's voice started to break. "And when we did find you, it seems so obvious. I mean, you, working in the mid-levels, as a private investigator..."

"Like Jax," he whispered. He squeezed his hands into fists, then relaxed them. "But after all this… I mean, I've lived, what, three lives now? Four? What am I?"

"Only you can answer that question," Scout said.

"No! That's not good enough!" He hit the table, but neither of them recoiled. "You people brought me here, gave me back these... memories."

"Would you have preferred we just let you shuffle on, not knowing what you really are?" Scout asked.

He didn't know. He had no answer. He felt bowed down by the weight of so many lives, so many responsibilities. He wanted to break down and cry.

He reached up with those worn pink hands, palmed wetness from his face. "I never used to be able to cry," he said. "That old HRD body, it could do a lot of things… but never cry."

"You're human now," Den said simply.

"I used to be so much more… I was a fripping droid!" His body shook with dry laughter. "I could be any droid I wanted, too! I could have lived forever. But this..."

"Being mortal's a pain sometimes," Den said. "You didn't have much choice about it in the end. Just like all of us."

"Choice," he repeated, and laughed again. It hurt his chest. "I was going to sacrifice myself. I was going to die, permanently. Forever. Just to save Jax."

"He saved you instead."

"I didn't ask him to do that."

"No. You didn't have to," Scout said. "Jax wanted to save people, and after losing Magash, Sacha, Ash and Djinn..."

"I know," he sniffed. "I know why he did it. It's just… All I ever wanted to do was save him. The way it ended…"

He lowered his face to his hands. Scout placed one warm hand on his shoulder-blades and said, "He gave you your life because he loved you. Just like you loved him. Attachment can be a weakness or a strength, just like anything else. It all depends on who you are and what you do with it."

"A droid and a Jedi," Den remarked. "Interesting kind of love."

"Droid, Jedi..." He picked his head out of his hands. "I've been both. But now… what am I?"

"A man," Den said.

"A man," he echoed. He let his hands fall into his palms, closed his eyes, breathed. He knew a man was all he'd ever be now. In a way it was a relief. "I feel so… so tired."

"As well you should. We've been at this all night."

"It feels like a lifetime. Three lifetimes. Or four, I don't even know anymore."

"Your long night's almost over," Scout squeezed his shoulder. "Do you want to see the sun come up?"

He opened his eyes. "Don't you have to… do something with me? I mean, this is a police station, they took me in, and..."

"I just called in some favors," Scout said. "Den and I thought this was the best way to handle you."

"You wanted to make sure I stayed put."

"More or less," admitted Den.

Their planned had worked, though he didn't need to tell them that. Den picked up his cane used it to push up from his chair. He said, "Come on. Let's get some air."

He rose to follow his friend as Den turned for the door. When he tried walking he almost fell; it was like he was using these legs for the first time. Scout took one shoulder and helped him out the door, into pale gray corridors now empty.

"Hey, Den," he asked, "What happened to your leg?"

The Sullustan chuckled. "It's been thirty years. You can't blame me for being a little worn down."

"I know. But what there anything… specific?"

Den sighed and said, "It's gonna be another long story."

"I have time," he said, "Plenty of it. As much as mere mortals get, anyway."

"That's good, 'cause I've got about the same."

"That means we're on the same level now?"

"Two lowely, mortal meat sacks. Disappointing huh?"

"Down this hall," Scout said, and led them toward a doorway.

It slid open. Cool wind rushed them, tickling his face and tousling his graying hair. He followed Scout and Den out onto the balcony.

The sun was coming up over Galactic City. High spires sparkled in the gold light and early morning speeder-traffic were like criss-crossing lines of jewels suspended in the air.

"Great view, isn't it," Scout flashed a smile. She looked young again.

He could only nod. He'd watched so many new days dawn on Coruscant, but right now, it was like he'd never seen it before.

Den put a hand on his arm and said, "Welcome home, friend."