Galen nodded some, taking in what Mara said. "Every so often I've gotten flashes of my parents...they were both Jedi I think. I know my father was at the very least for certain. My mother...I barely remember but I know she wielded a lightsaber." Mara was the first person he had told that to. He glanced over at her, his mind mulling over what she said about caring. "How do you resign yourself to the fact though that the one you care for could die?"
Hearing that resisting the Dark side would get a bit easier with time lifted Galen's spirits a bit and he smiled slightly. "The man I want to be..." he repeated slowly. "What if I'm not sure on what kind of man I want to be?" He glanced at his hands. "I'm a killer...I know that I am. I accept that. I accept that my hands may never be clean of the blood they've spilled. But what kind of man can I become?" He shifted to look better at her.
"I don't think I'd ever have the patience or temperment to be a Jedi like you."