Even though it sounded insane, something made Jaina believe him. Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was something else, but whatever the reason she knew he wasn't lying. People were being brought here. Anakin was here.
Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she felt as if she'd already known that somehow. A ghost of a memory, or an overactive imagination, flickered to life inside her head. It didn't last long, though. She could just barely, if she tried hard enough, picture having met and spoken with him. Along with...
"Anakin Skywalker." She said the name outloud, then blinked and re-focused on Sam. "My grandfather, Anakin Skywalker. He's here too. I remember spending time with him. Working on my ship, in fact."
It was a vague memory she couldn't recall entirely, but it was something at least. "I think I may have talked to my brother before, too," she admitted quietly. "But I've dreamed of it so much since he died that I might just be imagining it."
She gave a frustrated sound and shook her head. "Take me to him?" she asked. "Maybe he knows someone who can help." She thought he probably did, although that was based more on a hunch than any memory. Anakin just always seemed to find those who could help, and surrounded himself typically with people who would do whatever they could for others. It was how he was. Who he was.
Or had been. Idly, Jaina found herself wondering if being here had changed any of that.