Yeah, Charlie, I know I said last night, but things went wonky. At least it's up now. Thanks, everyone, for being patient with me while I got over a bit of a stumbling block in this chapter. I actually had to scrap part of it and start over. Someone wanted to be very chatty this chapter. I brought one of my favorite EU comedians in from the X-wing series. Those of you who've read the books will know who. More EU characters and some input from Firmus are promised for next chapter! Enjoy!
The Hero Strikes Back
Chapter 10
Watching HoloNet News was becoming somewhat of an entertaining hobby for Jix, especially when the Emperor was making some sort of appearance. The Corellian wasn't spending much time outside the apartment, but it was no hardship. Somehow, Dex's contacts had found a luxurious place for rent, well above the planet's artificial surface. To boot, it was less than a hundred kilometers from the capital district, giving him access to a wide range of amenities and services, including unlimited HoloNet time.
Palpatine had become much more visible since the Executor's appearance and sudden departure a month ago. Without Vader to oversee the military and other public portions of the Imperial machine, the old man was being forced out of his reclusive shell. He was frequently on the HNN, and his public behavior had started a slew of frantic whispers among the throneworld's residents.
From the very first days of the Empire, there had been those who suspected that their illustrious ruler was not right in the head; at first, the numbers had been miniscule. In the last month, the count had jumped exponentially just on Coruscant. Only the most fanatic Imperials still lauded Palpatine as a just man who provided security in the galaxy. Many whispered that something had changed the man.
It was plain to Jix that the Emperor was losing his mind, and if he remained in charge, the galaxy was going to go to the mynocks. Not even the tabloids mentioned anyone becoming close to Palpatine; in fact, the Court had been informally disbanded, as its members were no longer welcome in the Emperor's presence. There were a few military men following the Sith Lord around these days, but the stars above knew that any Navy man promoted above Captain was carefully screened for Force sensitivity, among other things, so none of them could possibly be a potential apprentice for Sidious.
With a sigh, Jix switched off the screen.
Klaxons wailed as Han raced through the Ord Radama base. I knew it was too good to be true. We stayed here too long, and now we're being bombarded by Imps. Swinging into Tactical, He quickly spotted Leia and breathed a small sigh of relief.
"Time to go, Princess," he said quietly, placing a hand on her arm. She was lucky that she hadn't been in one of the bombed buildings.
"All personnel to transports. Evacuate the base!" The brunette straightened from speaking into the comm board and pinned him with her stare. "Not until everyone else is away, Han. I will not leave anyone behind."
"Have you lost your mind?" he asked. "Two-thirds of them were already on the Ex when the Star Destroyers jumped in-system! All that's left is these guys!" He waved at the handful of staff in the room. "Hell, the Rogues launched more than twenty minutes ago. They're running out of firepower while you're trying to empty a base with nobody in it!" Leia turned her glare on the staffers.
"Get to your transports!" The barked order sent them scurrying out the door, and the pirate tugged on her arm again as the senator bent to the control panels again. After a moment, she allowed him to coax her away. "The self-destructs are on a ten-minute timer. Let's go, flyboy."
"Yes, Your Worship," Han replied as he rolled his eyes. He knew that Chewie would be ready to lift the Falcon as soon as they hit her ramp; hopefully they could reach the Ex before the three Deuces forced her to jump into hyperspace. Mauler, Agonizer, and Devastator were notorious for having the most brutal Rebel-hunters the Imperial Navy possessed in command.
"Go, Chewie, go!" he yelled as they hit the Falcon's boarding ramp. The ground was receding before he even reached the control panel. The hatch sealed, and Han moved toward the laser turrets. "Let's see how many of those mynocks we can peel off of your dad's ship, huh?"
Without a word, Leia pushed past him and climbed the ladder for the dorsal turret. The grim expression on her face didn't bode well for any Imperial pilots that got between them and the Lady Excellence, formerly the Executor.
Han had just gotten situated in the ventral turret when he heard the stutter of the upper quad turbolasers. An explosion outside the ship followed shortly, and he blinked. A TIE fighter entered his field of vision, and he squeezed his control yoke in reflex. Green bolts stitched the intervening space to leave a pair of charred holes in the enemy's solar array, but it flew on, probably hoping for another pass on the Falcon.
Getting within sight of the Lady Ex took a good ten minutes, since she was a third of the way around the planet. He'd racked up a good ten kills at least, but Leia was far more deadly, having over fifteen to her name. A pair of friendlies showed up on his targeting computer, and he matched them to a pair of TIEs, their solar panels trimmed with an electric blue that couldn't be missed as they screamed by on the trail of an interceptor that had, until now, been nibbling at the Falcon's engines.
Beginning landing approach! Chewie roared. Cease fire!
A sudden flash of light startled Han; a gray ship with a surprisingly fluid and organic form decelerated to a spot just below him. A set of automated laser cannon emerged from the smooth expanse of her upper hull and laced a pair of Imperial TIEs with green. Nanoseconds later, they were merely expanding balls of plasma.
"Peko-peko requesting permission to dock," called a feminine voice over the comm system. For some reason, it sounded familiar, like he should know the speaker.
"Peko-peko, come to heading two-one-five mark one-one-three and follow the Falcon in," replied Control. The avian craft executed a neat turn and tucked in right behind them while Chewie grumbled something about babysitting. The Wookiee was obviously not pleased.
With a sigh, Han powered down his laser cannon and climbed back up to the main deck. He offered a hand to Leia when she descended and then pulled her into a hug.
"Good shooting out there, sweetheart," he murmured. The princess' arms tightened briefly in silent thanks. Thank the Force—she's safe now. We're all
Anakin frowned to himself as he and Corran neared Bay Aleph Four, where Luke's Rogue Squadron and the Millennium Falcon were now berthed, as well as the ship that had dropped out of hyperspace and into the middle of that furball. He could sense that both of his children were fine, but the Force was still urging him in their direction.
He halted just inside the blast door to look around. A couple of the Rogues' X-wings were damaged, but there were twelve present; none of those kids had been lost. The Falcon had a couple of new blast scores, and Han and Chewie would undoubtedly want to make some sort of modification that would turn the bay into a chaotic mess for at least a week. The real focus of Anakin's attention, though, was the Peko-peko.
The ship's sinuous lines and organic shape gave away her origin, at least to the Jedi; it had been a long time since he'd seen a Nubian cruiser. The matte gray paint seemed out of place and unfinished. Even as he examined her, there was a loud hiss. A section of the lower port-side hull began to descend, and his breath froze in his lungs.
How…? Is it really her? he thought. There was a gentle tug on his sleeve. He turned to find Corran gazing at the woman with wide green eyes.
"That's her, Master, the woman who's bound to you." Anakin nodded and looked again, his heart lodged in his throat.
She stepped off the lift, her dress and cloak swirling around her feet. It was easy for him to follow her gaze as she first looked at the Falcon. Han and Chewie were just coming down the ramp, with Leia still out of sight. The group of X-wings and pilots was next, with a bit of a pause to observe the youngsters rehashing the battle with wild gestures. Then dark brown eyes met blue, and time seemed to stand still.
"Anakin?" He couldn't hear her from this distance, but the movement of her lips forming his name was so achingly familiar. One of her hands rose to her heart, then moved to touch a very familiar square of ivory.
"Padmé… My angel." The words barely made it past the lump in his throat. Is this even possible? He remembered too well the HoloNet coverage of her funeral, had felt the loss of their Force-bond. His mind was reeling.
Then she was in motion, striding toward him with a grim expression on her face. The open-handed slap took Anakin completely by surprise, snapping his head to the side.
"Ow." That's gonna leave a mark.
"That is for Mustafar." He winced at the venom in her words, hanging his head in shame.
"I deserve that, and worse," the Jedi admitted. Then warm lips were on his, Padmé kissing him with a nearly desperate hunger. Despite the years apart, he responded automatically, his arms gathering her slight frame close.
"And that is for returning my husband to me," she breathed as they paused for air. "I told Obi-Wan you were still in there, somewhere."
"It's been so long," Anakin whispered, lost in her scent and the feel of her hair against his face and hands. Without warning, she grabbed his right hand, pulling it away to examine it.
"What is this? What happened to the arm you built?" She shoved his sleeve up to his shoulder, obviously looking for the interface ring, and then glanced up in confusion.
"I'm a new man; more than half of me is technically less than three years old." He could feel her fear. "I almost died on Mustafar, body and soul. As far as anyone cared, Anakin Skywalker was dead. I was told I killed you and our children, and it nearly killed me. Vader took control, little more than a soulless cyborg, until Luke and Leia brought me back."
"They… How long has it been since then, Anakin?" She was trembling now, and he tried to soothe her with his touch. "How long?"
"Just over twenty years," he replied, caving to her need for the information. When Padmé burst into quiet tears, he drew her closer. "What's done is done. All we can do is pick up the pieces and mend things as best we can." Not knowing what else to do, he found the link between them and poured out his heart along it.
She shuddered as the torrent of emotions flowed through her. How was I out for twenty years without knowing it? she wondered. What has happened to my babies without me?
"You were dead, and I was so lost without you." Anakin's fear and loneliness washed over her.
"Where are they?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer. "Where are our twins?"
"Safe," he replied, his thumb brushing her lower lip. "In this bay, even." Padmé found herself drowning in his kiss again, clinging to her Jedi husband with all her strength. She felt a pulse of energy, like a storm surge, as they became familiar with each other again. When it happened again, she sighed and tucked herself under Anakin's chin.
"Dad?" The question, though not directed at her, startled Padmé. She turned just a fraction, one hand clutching at Ani's tunic. The young man who had spoken wore a bright orange flightsuit with a white emergency life-support unit hanging loosely across his chest and a light gray helmet under his arm. More surprising, though, was that Anakin's blue eyes stared out of that face, from under Anakin's hair, but the expression might as well have been her own. She looked up at her husband, silently demanding his explanation.
"I told you, they're safe. That's our son, Angel." The former queen looked again. The pilot bore more than a passing resemblance to Anakin, true. Her mind couldn't find any logical reason to disbelieve, but it was so terribly difficult to remember that two decades were utterly lost to her.
"Luke?" she whispered. The blast helmet fell with a clatter as the young man approached her carefully. She saw him glance up briefly, seeming to question her husband, but then returning that intense gaze to her. Padmé felt dampness in her hair where Anakin was pressing his chin. Since when does my Jedi cry? Then the pilot was reaching toward her, his fingers just brushing her cheek.
"Mother? Oh, stars, Mother…" He swept her into a hug, and that was all it took to convince her. He hugged just like his father. A choked sob escaped her as she returned the embrace.
"Whoa, princess," she heard Anakin say a few moments later. "Take it easy. Your mother's not going anywhere… At least, I hope not." Curious, she looked around to see who her husband was talking to and saw—herself?! Whoever the young woman was, she could have been one of Padmé's handmaidens, though her garb was as utilitarian as what Padmé had worn when she and Anakin had attempted to rescue Master Kenobi.
"It's me, Mother. Leia." The gently spoken words brought down the barrier holding her tears at bay. My baby girl, all grown up. So many questions ran through her mind as she was enveloped by her family.
A discreet cough and the quiet, growling laughter of a Wookiee finally prompted the four Skywalkers to break apart. The furry humanoid looked vaguely familiar, while the human man was new to Padmé. Leia leaned against him comfortably, and the man—a Corellian, if the bloodstripes on his trousers were legitimate—responded by gently clasping her to his chest.
"Eve since she and Han quit dancing around their feelings for each other, Leia has been acting like I did at Varykino," Anakin murmured by way of explanation. Padmé felt her face heat as she remembered that brief idyll. "I hope Luke realizes what he feels for Mara soon, or she'll be furious."
Some men can be as dense as duracrete. She stifled the chuckle that rose at the thought and watched her daughter talk to Han. The man's attention was focused only on Leia, though something about him told her that he was connected to his Wookiee friend on a profound level.
"Mother," Leia began after a moment. "This is Captain Han Solo and his honor-brother, Chewbacca. The Millennium Falcon is their ship."
"You fly that Pecko…" Solo let the word taper off, apparently knowing that he was pronouncing it wrong. "I've never seen a ship like that before; it looks kinda like a bird."
"She was built on Naboo, my homeworld. The shape is that of a peko-peko, a Naboo reptavian that can be tamed and used to hunt small game." When the Corellian nodded his understanding, Padmé continued. "I liberated her from someone who apparently had no appreciation for aesthetics. When I get the opportunity to paint her, it will be in the natural colors of the peko-peko. Her builders would likely approve."
"Liberated, my love?" Anakin asked with a grin. "What kind of trouble have you been getting into?"
"You're the one who's always at the center of the mess, husband mine. Besides, I'm much better for her than someone who refits the interior with duraplast. All her beautiful lines were covered up. The shipwrights would have gone into fits." The Jedi's raised eyebrow informed her that he would like more detail later.
"And it was just you in her, out there?" Solo asked.
"She was designed to be flown by one person when necessary. The laser cannons have a dedicated droid brain operating them." He looked impressed. Anakin's arm around her tightened briefly as she was turned toward the blast door. Gigantic panels began to slide along the bay's magcon field behind her, but not before Padmé saw green lasers vape a TIE fighter that was rushing toward the opening.
"Have you seen a doctor or a med droid?" her husband asked solicitously as the bay was left behind.
"Of course not. I didn't know of any I could trust. I didn't know who to trust."
"Let me arrange for you to be checked, then," he urged. "I just got you back; I couldn't bear losing you to some silly health issue now." When she acquiesced with a sigh, Anakin lifted a comlink. "Bay Delta, prepare for a full scan of one human female, priority Aleph. No visible injuries, just a check to be on the safe side." Padmé could just barely hear the confirmation.
"You worry too much," she informed the Jedi. Then she noticed a dark-haired youngster deep in conversation with Luke at the tail end of the group. His clothes looked vaguely familiar in cut. "Who is he, Anakin? The youngling." He glanced back, then nodded to himself.
"That's Corran, my padawan. Not that I'm neglecting Mara and our two, but he is solely my responsibility." He glanced down at her. "I'm supposed to play a very large part in reestablishing the Order. All of the children will learn from me at some point."
"You'll do a wonderful job," she assured him, knowing from his tone that he had doubts.
Over an hour later, Padmé was glaring at Anakin. He knew how she hated being poked and prodded, whether it was by a med droid or a living being. That was one of the reasons she hadn't know that the twins were, well, twins.
"To all intents and purposes, milady, you are in exceptional health for a dead woman." At least Dr. Phanan was funny, even if his humor tended to the morbid. "In fact, you're not even forty-eight, not physiologically." Startled, she glanced at her husband to find him mirroring her shock. "All scans are consistent with a healthy human female in her late thirties to early forties. Including, ahem, a fully functional reproductive system. No offense, sir!" The young doctor held up his hands when Anakin glowered at him.
"Thank you, Dr. Phanan. May we go now?" Padmé asked with extra sweetening as she glared right back at the Jedi.
"Of- of course. Though, if anything starts to bother you, do come back right away, Madam Skywalker. It would be best to keep an eye on the situation." She slipped from the scanning bed to stalk over and smack her husband's crossed arms.
"Apologize to the poor boy. You shouldn't terrorize medical staff; they can be terribly sneaky when they decide on revenge," she hissed at the tall man sotto voce.
"Appreciate it," Anakin told the doctor curtly before turning for the door. Throwing a 'what can you do?' glance over her shoulder, she hurried to keep up.
She'd been given a bit of an impromptu tour on the way to the medbay—one of apparently many on this colossal ship—and therefore knew that Anakin Called this area the 'family sector.' Why was something she had yet to find out. Just a bit upset a t his gruff behavior, she grabbed his arm and pulled with all her strength. He swung to face her.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked. "You're behaving like the wrong end of a gualama." For some reason, that brought a hint of pink to his cheeks.
"The Living Force brought you back, I'm sure of it. But why didn't it keep you alive in the first place?!" The angry words surprised her.
"It doesn't matter. At least I'm alive now. Stop playing with 'what if?' and 'why didn't?' You know how much trouble that caused last time." Anakin became very contrite as she brought that up. All the tension drained from his frame.
"You're right," he admitted after a minute. Then he hesitated, looking around. "I think I told you earlier that this is the family sector; we're in the uppermost corridor. Luke, Leia, Han, Chewbacca… their rooms are all on this level, as are mine."
"Show me?" she asked quietly. "Your quarters, I mean. Where I will be living with you." Anakin's entire face flushed. Padmé smirked at her success and took the opportunity to slip her hand into his.
"Um, right…" Once over his shock, the Jedi began to stroll along the passageway very slowly. "All of this has been refitted since we defected three months ago. Instead of individual cabins opening directly onto the hall, it's now groups of rooms, each cluster centered on a shared living area that lets out here. Over ten thousand beings joined us when we stopped in the Corellian Sector, most of them the families of Jedi who were killed in the war and the Purges directly after. They're all housed in this sort of arrangement. Rostek Horn, Corran's adoptive grandfather, hid them twenty years ago, and helped me bring them together again after I'd broken all ties to Palpatine."
"He sounds like a brave man," she commented, and her husband nodded.
"He adopted Corran's father after Nejaa was killed, knowing that Valin and others like him were being hunted by the Empire." He stopped at t wide door and palmed the control, causing it to open smoothly. She was wide-eyed as he ushered her inside.
The large room was well-lit, with a food prep station in one of the far corners and a table and seating in the other. The near half of the space was dominated by a huge, curving gray couch—ample room for at least seven adult humans. A holochess table sat off to the side, displaying a partial set of dejarik pieces. It looked like the players had gotten up in the middle of their game. On a blank section of wall was projected a stunning view of a city Padmé recognized as Aldera on Alderaan.
"That's Leia's," Anakin said, gazing at the picture. "Bail raised her, and now all she has to remember those years are her holos." She must have looked as confused as she felt. "Alderaan was obliterated by Palpatine's toy superweapon, on the command of Wilhuff Tarkin. Leia was forced to watch it happen. She gets quiet at times, and that's when I'm most worried for her." The blond sighed heavily.
"You need my help with them both," she guessed, and he nodded. "We'll make it, Ani, together."
'Together' had to be the best word in the galaxy.