I lived.
I lived to fight in an X Wing.
— to command during the Battle of Scariff.
— to see the Empire, the very thing that robbed me of everything I had, crash and burn like the magma on Mustafar.

        But I should've died.
Even though I'm glad I didn't.
My life was saved by two people: Yula and Fitz 

Yula healed me. Brought me back from death.

Fitz framed my death by way of a Vital Suppressor and a Blaster set to stun. All made possible with his malfunctioned chip.

I was later found by some Rebellion leader sweeping the Temple for survivors. From that day on,I dedicated my life to fighting for those who could not fight for themselves. Those who gave up their lives so I could keep fighting.

        Every day I fight. I fight to carry on my Padawan's legacy. She gave up her own life for mine without any hesitation. That girl did that for me. That girl died for me.

That vulgar, sarcastic, closed off, secretly kind and loving, incredible girl. She was the closest thing I've ever had to family. No, she was family.

She's been the biggest inspiration in my time with the Rebellion.

She's there with me in every x-Wing, battle field, Imperial Base, and Command Room. Her legacy will forever remain in my heart, and in the Galaxy.

She's somewhere up there in the Cosmic Force. Bringing comedic relief, hope, and truth to the world. Oh hell, knowing her she's making sarcastic remarks to everyone she meets and pranking them every chance she gets. Jek's probably helping her too.

Her sacrifice is the cause for my very being. And it's the cause that gives me hope of change. Her rebellious, unorthodox spirit is the same one that the Empire wishes to destroy. Luckily, it's also the same spirit within every Rebel Soldier. And we're certainly not letting some feeble Empire defeat us.

I fight for freedom, justice, and for truth. For the Rebellion.

And I'll carry on the legacy,and great memories, of that incredible girl as I do.
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