0 B.B.Y.

"Well Commander, we are here at last." Governor Tarkin remarked, overlooking the completed technological terror known as the Death Star through the viewport of the ISD Executrix's bridge.

Oberon stood quietly behind him, his hands gripped together behind his back as he listened to Tarkin lecture. His eyes were drawn towards the hulking spherical mass obscuring the view, the weapon he had been first introduced to just a few years ago, now completed and prepared for destruction

"The weapon is finally completed. In no small part due to your role as Security Supervisor of course," Tarkin added, turning his head towards Oberon.

Personally, Oberon felt "Security Supervisor" was as fictitious a rank as Director Orson Krennic's "Admiral" status. Most of the work was checking cargo manifests and going through the mountainous task of examining the history of each member of the station's personnel, albeit with the help of a large staff. Krennic himself carried out most of the work it would normally entail, keeping the station secret and out of the public eye.

"You're too kind Sir. The real thanks go to the thousands of men of women who have worked to make the station operational." He replied, trying his best to distance himself from the Station. He didn't want any credit for ensuring this weapon was operational.

Tarkin chuckled, turning to face him. "It isn't operational yet. We still require a test of the station's primary weapon."

Oberon's eye narrowed, his heart skipping a beat. The 'weapon' was the planet-killer he had feared ever since he had learned of the Death Star's existence.

"What would you have in mind?" He asked, doing his best to hide how disturbed he was by the idea actually using the weapon, snuffing out millions of lives

"Jedha City. An effective target that will concurrently wipe out any reminder of the Jedi Order and destroy Saw Gerrera and his band of fanatics." Tarkin replied, locking his steel gaze on Oberon, awaiting a reaction.

Jedha. Every Imperial's nightmare. Saw Gerrera and his Partisans had been waging war on the Holy city, where Kyber Crystals were being extracted from Temple of the Kyber, one of the most sacred temples in the galaxy for the few that still believed in the "Force", some mystical field that supposedly connected all beings in the universe.

In Oberon's opinion, the 'Force' sounded like a ploy the Jedi used to spread their influence in preparation for their attempted takeover of the Old Republic. Fortunately, Emperor Palpatine had managed to stop the Jedi treachery before it began, and as a result, faith in the Force dwindled, becoming little more than a relic of a bygone age.

Despite that, there were still plenty innocents caught in between the Partisans and the Empire. And now, the Death Star.

"That would make an effective demonstration, Sir." Oberon said after a pause, hoping it was convincing enough to satisfy the intimidating Grand Moff.

"I don't intend it to be a demonstration. Jedha is far too remote. A more public demonstration will be chosen at a later date. You are dismissed Commander. A shuttle will take you back to the Station at your leisure," Tarkin finished, swiftly turning back to the viewport to admire his creation.

Turning to take his leave, he could feel his stomach churning, knowing that Jedha wouldn't be the only victim of the Death Star's monstrous power.

After a long shift, Oberon stumbled towards his office, the durasteel door sliding into the wall as jammed his code cylinder into its slot, a beep confirming his identity.

As he returned the cylinder to its hidden pocket, he stepped inside, he approached the polished black desk in the centre of the brightly lit room, awash with the bright blue beams of hyperspace light.

Resting in the black leather swivel chair, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, once again thinking of the terror they were about to unleash upon the citizens of Jedha.

Taking a deep breath, he turned his sights to his pale white Mandalorian helmet, sitting in a stand on the desk. There's no honour in this. What would my parents think of this abomination?!

His thoughts were disturbed as a cheerful whirr echoed from his attached quarters, and R3-C6 rolled towards him.

Offering the droid a smile, he sighed, before removing his Insignia plaque and flipping it on to the desk, slipping off his clean white jacket and placing it on the chair's back, revealing a dark grey undershirt.

R3 began chirping, indicating an incoming transmission. "Who's it from?" He asked in reply, twirling the plaque in between his fingers.

The beeping the astromech replied with implied the transmission was from Lara Khan, now heavily pregnant and off duty, living with his Mother in Sundari awaiting the child's birth.

Not today. I don't want her seeing me while I'm dealing with this. She has enough to deal with without my crisis of interest

"Send a short message informing her that there is a communications shutdown. I'll call her back."

It broke his heart to lie to her, but in truth, it would be harder to speak to her and be unable to tell the truth about the classified weapon.

As he was about to return to his self-loathing, when a loud, monotone voice announced over the intercom:" Death Star will revert to realspace in, 0600 hours."

Great. More time to be trapped in my thoughts.

"Senior Commander Khan, Governor Tarkin requests your presence on the Command Bridge."

A small hologram of Major Cass, Tarkin's aide projected itself in the centre of the desk. Swivelling his chair away, Oberon carefully considered his answer, wondering if he would keep his composure in front of a room full of devoted officers

Looking out of the viewport, Khan's gaze fell upon the desert moon of Jedha, moments away from being victim to the Death Star.

"Inform him I will be unable to attend the bridge until after the weapon's firing. I am presently preoccupied."

The excuse was incredibly vague, he couldn't provide a reason for being 'preoccupied'.

Cass grumbled, clearly not convinced, but was polite enough not to inquire any further.

"I will tell him to expect you within the hour. I'm sure that will give you plenty of time to finish whatever is keeping you so busy."

Cass offered a brief smile, before the hologram disappeared, returning the office to silence

Any minute now, and the weapon will fire. The thousands of inhabitants of the Holy City will be massacred. And I am powerless to stop it.

As his stomach churned, he became aware of a deep vibration rippling through the floor of the battle station.

To the right of the viewport, he could see 8 bright green beams erupt out of the massive dish in the station's side, reaching a focus point before sending one central beam hurtling into Jedha's surface.

Jedha City was vaporised instantly, a mountainous mushroom cloud forming and expanding, engulfing everything surrounding it.

At least it was quick, he briefly thought, feeling faint. But that was no justification.

The dust cloud grew larger, eventually rupturing the moon's atmosphere, sending debris flying into space.

If all this destruction is for a test, then how many lives would the real thing claim?

Entering the observation deck, Oberon made his way towards the distinct figure of Tarkin in the centre of the room, stopping behind him.

Tarkin stood rigid by the large viewport, his sharp eyes fixed on the devastated moon below.

"Remarkable. Wouldn't you say, Commander?" He asked, tilting his head towards Oberon.

Doing his best to avoid eye contact, Oberon decided to give his honest opinion, or at least as honest as he could get without receiving a disciplinary action.

"That isn't the word that comes to mind, Sir. Perhaps terrifying."

"Oh? A weapon that can eliminate all enemy forces without giving them time to escape doesn't impress you? Perhaps there is a reason you work Intelligence rather than the Navy." Tarkin sneered, chuckling at his own joke.

The disgusting moral compromises out way the tactical advantages, Oberon thought to himself, his eyes planted on the floor.

"Regardless of your opinion, Commander, the Death Star is here to stay. The Joint Chiefs are Enroute to assume their Command, and as such, Colonel Yularen will be assuming direct command of all ISB forces aboard the Station. You will be reporting to him upon his arrival."

Glancing up, Oberon felt a wave of relief overcome him. Not only would he no longer have direct responsibility over the station, but Yularen would provide the wisdom he needed.

Standing in one of the docking bays littering the Death Star's equatorial trench, Oberon calmly observed a pristine white Lambda-class T-4A shuttle glide into the hanger, it's twin towering wings rising as it landed with thud.

"Colonel. Welcome aboard, Sir." He called out, snapping to attention with a salute as Yularen disembarked. "At ease, Commander." Yularen replied, waving away the salute as he stepped down onto the hanger floor. "There's no need for any pleasantries."

"If you say so, Sir. Allow me to escort you to your quarters." Oberon said, gesturing towards the hangers exit.

After a brisk walk through several wide corridors and an uncomfortably long turbolift ride, the two ISB officers reached their destination, a small plaque adorning the wall stating ISB, and underneath it Colonel Whullf Yularen confirming their destination.

Entering into the bland office, Yularen made his way over to his empty desk, taking a seat in the generic swivel chair, gesturing for Oberon to sit in the chair opposite.

"So, Commander, what is it that's bothering you?" Yularen asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

THIS BATTLE STATION JUST KILLED THOUSANDS, His mind cried out, desperate to share his regrets and doubts with someone. "N-nothing, Sir. Just got a lot on my mind. Lara is due to go into labour any week now." He lowered into the chair.

"I know. Congratulations. But I've also known you for the better part of two decades, and I can tell when something is plaguing your thoughts." Yularen replied, leaning forward onto the desk.

"And Governor Tarkin notified me of your concerns about the Death Star." Yularen revealed, resting his chin on his knuckles.

"Concerns?! We just killed thousands of people! And for what? To test a weapon? To take out a tiny rebel cell? And if that's just a test, what happens when we actually use it?!"

Yularen patiently let him vent, the grizzled veteran waiting to intervene. "I can understand why you're angry. To a degree, I share that anger. But you need to realise that this weapon, it is more than a weapon. It is designed to set an example. What will the Rebellion do, knowing that we have indestructible weapon that can destroy their secret bases in a heartbeat? Why, had the Old Republic had a weapon of this sort, there wouldn't have been a Clone War! We would have ended the Separatists on Geonosis. Saved Billions."

"And that's what we are trying to do? Scare the Rebellion into surrender before they can start a war?" Oberon stood up, scratching his brow. "Is this what it's come to? Killing innocents to prevent terrorists from killing even more?" Yularen gave him a saddened look, but offered no reply.

Before Oberon could continue, the clear viewport overlooking the office erupted in a bright blue light. Hyperspace? No-one told me we were jumping early. "Excuse me for a minute, Sir." Oberon said, slipping outside the office to investigate the premature jump.

The corridor was bustling, with several officers hurrying along. In the crowd, he recognised a familiar face. The ancient bald head heading towards the command deck belonged to General Hurst Romodi, another member of the Joint Chiefs.

"General Romodi, Sir!" He called, the tired, old General stopping to face him. "Is something the matter?"

"Scarif Base. There's a Rebel Incursion." Romodi replied. "Governor Tarkin believes they are trying to steal the plans for this station."

When the Death Star arrived at Scarif, Oberon found himself in front of a viewport as he hurried towards the Overbridge. The rebel fleet was larger than he expected. The Capital ship, an MC75 cruiser, was supported by several Nebulon-B frigates and both Hammerhead and Corellian Corvettes, aided by a swarm of X-wing and Y-wing Starfighters.

They had made short work of the Imperial defences. Two Star Destroyers were plummeting downwards, one torn in half, and the other smashed through the Shield Gate that once protected the planet surface.

They are far more effective than we predicted. If this Rebellion isn't stopped soon, it will spark into something uncontrollable, He noted as he rushed to the Command Deck.

The commanding voice of Tarkin reached him. "You may fire when ready." The station floor purred, and Oberon knew all too well what came next. The bright green beam erupted out of the Death Star, hurtling into Scarif's surface.

Approaching the Grand Moff, Oberon regained his composure. Turning to face him, Tarkin easily read his emotions, clearly seeing he was distraught.

"Sadly, Scarif Base was overrun by the time we arrived. Director Krennic and the garrison stationed there have failed. Destroying it is the only way to ensure our most valuable plans, the designs for this station included, don't fall into Rebel hands."

"It is regrettable, Sir. But what about the Rebel Fleet? Our scans suggest several transmissions have been beamed to the flagship." Oberon asked, waving towards the viewport in front of them.

The Rebel Fleet had begun moving away from the planet, preparing to retreat, ships beginning to jump to lightspeed. "Not to worry, Commander. Reinforcements are Enroute."

As if on cue, an Imperial 1-class Star Destroyer dropped out of hyperspace into the midst of the Rebel fleet, immediately destroying a Gr-75 transport that smashed into its hull, before tearing apart the Corvettes and Frigates that were unlucky enough to be left behind.

Eventually all that remained was the MC-75 flagship, disabled and left to float in space. A Lambda class T-4a Shuttle disembarked from the Star Destroyer, accompanied by 2 TIE/BR Boarding shuttles. (Although from the distance Oberon was looking at, they could have just as easily have been the similar design of TIE/sa Bombers).

A few minutes later, a Corellian Corvette detached from the rear of the MC75, hurtling away from the doomed ship. "Do you think the transmissions were received by that ship as well?" Oberon remarked, prompting a stern glare from Tarkin.

"Track that ship. I want its hyperspace co-ordinates. Now!" Tarkin barked. Sprinting to a nearby console, Oberon quickly began inputting the Corvette's trajectory as it jumped to hyperspace. He transmitted it to the hundreds of officers standing by to calculate every possible destination along it.

Within minutes he had the answers.

"Two possible destinations. Molovar, or Tatooine." Oberon announced, becoming aware of the deep breathing coming from a communications channel Tarkin had opened. Vader.

"Their destination is Tatooine. I can sense them."

Within a couple of hours, Darth Vader had managed to apprehend the crew of the rebel corvette, now revealed to be the Tantive IV, a ship of the House of Organa. Princess Leia Organa had been aboard, and had now been arrested and taken to the Death Star for interrogation. The Corvette had indeed received the plans for the Death Star, but they had escaped to Tatooine's surface aboard an escape in the clutches of an R2 unit and a 3PO series Protocol droid.

Awaiting the Princess's arrival, Oberon stood in Detention Block AA-23. Beside him was Lieutenant Shann Childsen, a snobbish bully known for his incompetence. Oberon demoted him after an administrative error led to several prisoners being wiped off Imperial records (Not that official records of any kind mattered on the Death Star)

The turbolift door opened, revealing the Alderaanian Princess, handcuffed, and flanked by two pristine white Stormtroopers.

"Ah, Senator Organa, it has been a while." Oberon said accommodatingly, as if he were greeting her in a Hotel reception.

Organa paused, taking a second to recognise him. "Commander Khan? From Cato Nemoidia? Finally, a friendly face. You should be able to explain to these barbarians that I have no part in this rebellion." She defiantly stated.

"Unfortunately, it would appear that the evidence is not in your favour, Your Highness. The Tantive IV was docked with the Rebel Flagship during the battle in which the plans for this station were stolen. As such you would know the location the flagship jumped from, which we believe to be the rebel base. Enfield, Prescott, if you would escort the Senator to Cell Block 2187."

Two Death Star Troopers moved forward to take the Princess out of the Stormtrooper's custody, taking her to her designated Cell, Oberon following them. Sitting her down on the Cell's bunk, they uncuffed her and stood at the back of the cell.

"Leave us." Oberon ordered, waiting for the two Troopers to exit, closing the steel partition behind them.

"Now," Oberon began, removing the short black cap sitting on his slick brown hair and leaning against the wall, "I'm going to give you a chance. Between us. No Vader. No Interrogator Droid. To tell me the location of the Rebel Base. And, if you do, then I will do everything in my power to ensure you walk away from here. Just a young disillusioned girl caught up in a Rebellion they don't understand. I, hand-on-heart, believe that is all that has happened here. You've got your entire life ahead of you, don't blow it all on this Rebellion. So, where is the Rebel Base?" Oberon asked, offering a kindly smile, something he was sure the Princess wouldn't see again on the Death Star.

Leia sat in silence, patiently listening to his plea for a location. "I'm sorry, but I genuinely have no idea what you are talking about. I am a member of the Imperial Senate, I have no connections to any Rebellion, and I am being kept here illegally. I don't know anything about a Rebel Base!" She innocently protested.

Groaning, Oberon jumped up from the wall, pacing around the limited space of the cell. "You're good, Your Highness. I'm almost convinced. But that's not going to work here. If you don't tell me the system, all you are going to do is cause pain. You were at Scarif, you've seen what this Station can do. What is going to stop- "

The flashing red light on his gauntlet interrupted him. Pressing the respective button, his comlink became audible with the obnoxious voice of Childsen. "Sir, Lord Vader is Enroute to interrogate the prisoner." The 'Prisoner'. Not even referring to her as a person.

"Roger that. I'm done here." He replied, hastily ending the communication. "Last chance Princess. Where is the Rebel Base?"

The Princess looked at him, her face full of concern. Weighing up her options. "I don't know. I don't know anything about the Rebellion." She said, turning to face the cell wall.

"Then there's nothing I can do for you." Oberon said resigned. Straightening his cap, he returned it to his head and moved to the door.

As it slid open, he stopped, turning to look back at the Princess. "Good Luck. You're going to need it." Frowning, he moved down the hallway, the door shutting behind him.

Two hours later, Oberon was back in his office, feet up on the desk and sorting through the relentless surge of files that had been sent to his office connecting the House of Organa to the Rebellion. The majority of these were useless (Such as two droids lent to a Minister on Lothal being stolen by a rebel cell before their mysterious return) however there were some that provided substantial evidence (Ranging from Hammerhead Corvettes being "stolen" by a Rebel cell to his first meeting with Leia Organa on Cato Nemoidia, where a Rebel Fleet had sprung the Tantive IV from an Imperial blockade).

The Death Star had just entered the Alderaan system, the reasoning of which he presumed to be the arrest of Bail Organa, Viceroy of Alderaan, Father of Leia and presumed mastermind of the rebellion. As he scanned through file after file, he was hardly surprised. Going way back to the Clone Wars, Organa had opposed granting more powers to Palpatine, and had been close with the Rebellion's founder, the former Chandrillian senator Mon Mothma.

R3-C6, parked against the wall in front of him, suddenly sprang alive before rolling towards him, informing him that Lara was calling back.

"Put her through." He ordered, sliding his feet of the desk as a pale hologram of a woman in a maternity gown.

"You've been avoiding my calls." Lara sternly remarked, crossing her arms.

"No, I haven't. I've been busy that's all. Lots of work to do on this super-secret space station. We're getting close to finding the Rebel Base. How's things back home? "

"Things are good. Amira's had to take your old protocol droid out for maintenance, but other than that, it's been quiet. Security's been pretty tight since the last Clan Wren attack, but it's a small price to pay for – "She suddenly groaned, her hand flying to the large bump projecting from her abdomen.

"I'm fine, it's just kicking. " She said after a pause, causing to him to breathe a sigh of relief. "You have got your communicator ready to receive the signal, right?" She asked.

"Of course, I'd did it just after I." He promptly replied. They had agreed that when she went into labor, his Mother would send him a signal using an old family communicator, which he had set his communicator to prioritize, resulting in a bright red light flashing on his gauntlet.

As they continued their conversation, Oberon slowly became aware of the floor vibrating. "No. They wouldn't." Oberon mumbled, turning his chair to look down at the peaceful planet below.

"Wouldn't what? Obe?" Lara asked, but wasn't listening, his mind flashing back to Tarkin's words before Jedha. A more public demonstration will be chosen. And Tarkin had found it.

The bright green laser erupted out of the Death Star, hurtling into Alderaan, before vaporising it instantly in a giant explosion of fire and ash. It faded away, leaving only an asteroid field where the prosperous planet once lay.

" No!" He cried, jumping out of his chair. "Oberon, what happened? What's going on?!" Lara yelled, unable to see the devastation.

"They killed them. I don't believe it. The entire planet. Gone." Oberon sobbed, resting against the viewport and sliding down to the floor, feeling the tears flowing from his single eye.

"They're dead. All of them."

Oberon could barely contain his anger. As he stormed towards the Death Star's conference room, where Tarkin was located, he had to be careful not to lash out at the Death Star Troopers forming layer after layer of security as he made his way towards his target.

Eventually, he arrived at the conference room, where Tarkin was speaking with Darth Vader. At first sight of the Sith Lord, Oberon was about ready to turn and run, to save his confrontation for another time. Unfortunately, Tarkin caught sight of him first.

"Ah, Commander. I had a feeling I would be receiving a visit from you. Whatever do I owe the pleasure?" The Grand Moff asked, resting in his chair.

"You know why. Alderaan. You blew it up. The entire damn planet. You killed millions." He snarled, slamming his fist on the circular table, prompting the two guards behind him to place their hands on their DH-17s. Tarkin didn't flinch.

"I did what I had too. And I will not be judged by you Commander. I believe Colonel Yularen already explained the purpose of the weapon to you?"

"Don't give me that trash. You know full well you could have targeted an uninhabited world like Geonosis. Heck, you could have destroyed the entirety of Jedha if you'd wanted casualties. Your entire reasoning for murdering all those innocent people was to blackmail the Princess into giving away the location of the Rebel Base!"

Tarkin scowled, rising out of his chair. " I do not require your approval to justify my reasoning for destroying Alderaan. And unless you wish to be court martialled, I'd advise you to stand down, Commander." Tarkin wove a hand towards the two guards at the door, who each placed a gloved hand on his shoulder.

Shaking them off, Oberon moved his hand towards the rank plaque on his breast, twisting it off and sliding it across the table.

"Then consider this my resignation. Effective Immediately, I stand down from my post as Security Supervisor."

Hours later, Oberon's TIE Advanced x1 touched down on Landing Pad 63 at Sundari City, the s-foils sliding closed as he climbed out. As he had been preparing to disembark the Death Star, he had been delayed due to Princess Leia's escape, assisted by the crew of a captured (now escaped) freighter and some old Jedi sneaking aboard to confront Vader. (An Obi-Wan Kenobi, a name he vaguely recognised) Not that he cared anymore.

Enroute the Mandalore, he had received the signal from his Mother that Lara had gone into Labor. Now, He didn't believe in the Force or anything of the sort, but it must have been fate that he was going home just in time for his child's birth.

Moving from the TIE to an awaiting Balutar-class swoop, flashing some identification to a by standing officer, before speeding away towards the New Sundari Hospital. Within half an hour, he was rushing through reception towards the maternity ward.

Barging his way through the corridors, he arrived at a waiting room where his Mother, Amira, was looking through a viewport into room where rows of new born children were lying in cribs.

She turned to look at him, a caring smile on her elderly face. "Son, you made it." Oberon moved towards her, giving her a hug. Pulling away, a concerned frown formed on his face. "Where's Lara? Is she alright?"

"She's fine, just recovering. I'll get a Nurse to take you to her." She replied. "And the child?"

"A boy. A beautiful little baby boy."

Feeling a mixture of shock and relief, Oberon rested into a nearby seat. It was finally setting in. He was a Father. The Empire and the Rebellion felt incredibly insignificant now.

"I'll go find someone to take you to Lara." Amira said, disappearing down a corridor. Still in shock, Oberon lay his head on his shoulder, looking down to his wrist gauntlet, noticing he had several transmissions he had missed, having had his communicator mute any Imperial channels since he left the Death Star.

Standing up, he moved over to a communications booth, making sure to firmly shut the door behind him. Activating his handheld holoprojector, he began the first recording, a message from Colonel Yularen, and a small blue figure of the aged ISB Colonel lit up the booth:

"Commander Khan, I wish I could speak to you in person. Governor Tarkin has only just told me about you resigning. I'm upset that you didn't come to me directly with this, but I understand why. I know you never supported the idea of the Death Star, and I can see why Alderaan pushed you over the edge. There are many who share your view, that Tarkin went too far. I myself am one of them. But you need to remember that it's motivation was to scare the Rebellion into backing down. We've tracked Princess Organa's ship to the Yavin system, where we believe the Rebel Base to be. The rebellion should be destroyed within the week. Once it's all done, I want you to come back, talk it out with me. I'm won't accept your resignation until you at least contact me. Anyway, give Lara my regards, and I hope to see you soon."

The booth faded to black, leaving Oberon in darkness. Reflecting on Yularen's words, he decided he would return to the station. After all, he was a father now, and needed to provide for his family, or some other sentimental reason. Besides, if the Rebel base was truly located, then Tarkin wouldn't have an excuse to destroy any other planets. Activating the next message, he surprised to discover its sender was General Tagge, another member of the joint chiefs. The hologram of the rat-like man fizzled on."

"Senior Commander Khan, I regret to inform you that the Death Star has been destroyed over Yavin by an unprecedented rebel attack, leaving no survivors save forLord Vader. As one of the few high-ranking members of the Station's staff to survive, the Emperor requests your present on Coruscant without delay."

The message ended and the booth darkened once again, leaving Oberon to process what had happened. Destroyed? How? The Rebels didn't have anything near the firepower required to take on a Battle Station the size of the Death Star. Exiting the booth, Oberon move towards an open viewport to get some fresh air.

They were dead. Tarkin. Cass. Romodi. Childsen. Enfeld. Prescott. Countless more. R3 was destroyed. He almost laughed at that. Hundreds of thousands of people dead, and he was thinking about an astromech droid. Yularen. Whullf Yularen. His mentor, friend, father-figure. The man who took a scrawny kid from Mandalore and forged him into an elite ISB agent. Made him into a man. Now dead. And the last thing Yularen would have thought of him was he was a coward, running away instead of standing his ground. And The Emperor. Palpatine himself wanted to meet him. Him! It's not that surprising. The Joint Chiefs, and countless other elite Imperials were aboard the station. ISB would be needed to pick up the pieces, find the perpetrators. And with Yularen dead…

"Oberon, are you alright?" Amira asked, returning with a Nurse. Turning towards her, he masked his face with a smile.

"I'm fine. Just something came up with work. Now, Can I go see my Son?"

The translucent partition slid open, and the Nurse led Oberon into the room, taking him into the room before turning and leaving, shutting the door behind him. In a bed in the middle of the room, Lara lay, in her arms cradling their child.

"Lara." He said, announcing his presence, walking towards her. "Oh, you made it. I didn't expect you to be here so soon." She tiredly replied, lifting her wary head towards him.

"I got away early." He mused, resting on the bed next to her, his eyes shifting to the sleeping child in her arms. "He's wonderful." He remarked, studying the boy's tiny face.

"He's got your eyes." Lara said, gently lifting the boy up and passing him to his father, waking the child which promptly began tearing up.

" Shhh now, Daddy's here." Oberon cooed, gently rocking the child. "Have you given him a name yet?" He asked, carefully wiping away the boy's tears as the child went back to sleep.

"Would I name our first child without you?" Lara replied, lying back in the bed, and falling into the pillows, closing her eyes.

Within minutes she was asleep, leaving Oberon and their child alone. Staring out of the viewport, Oberon whispered to the sleeping child, "Galaxy's changing, kid. The whole thing's coming undone. But I promise, long as I live, I am never going to let any harm come to you or your Mother."