Hi! It's hard to write a preface to this considering I haven't updated in over a year I think? I usually get around to writing this in earnest again when another Star Wars movie is set to come out, uncoincidentally, but here is a chapter update! This chapter is longer and is certainly one of the final ones, and I can't believe it honestly. Having written this fic for 5 years it's wild that I'm still writing it and I will be happy and sad to see it finished (if I finally ever get around to it lol). Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I will honestly try to update soon but hey, I clearly can't promise anything, but let me know what you think by leaving me a review :) Thank you!- Ellisaed

Leia pressed her palm firmly against her ear at the sound of an alarm that blared, on and on and on. It was the same alarm sound that would ring when the Palace would run emergency drills, and she'd have to wake up and be carried outside by her nursemaid Rena. She would never know if it were a real emergency or not until her Daddy would come up to her and kiss her head and quiet her frightened tears; he always said to never let that alarm scare her, and that he would always be there when it did.

Leia bit her lip, trying not to remember that memory right then because it made her miss him even more.

She clutched even tighter to Luke's hand, which made her feel less sad. In between their hands was Leia's half of the necklace, which felt better to hold together than just on her own.

Luke looked at her and gave a small smile. The bruise on his face near his eye looked to hurt very much, but he smiled anyway and whispered, "It's loud, like a turboengine."

Leia nodded, "I don't like it."

"It's ok. My uncle says to always listen to alarms 'cause they are meant to keep you safe from something."

Leia figured Luke was right. Mister Kenobi had said they were very close to finding her Daddy and Mommy and Winter again. The three of them – and R2-D2 – were gathered in the corridor on Level C, leading to the entrance of the Holding Cells. They could not enter, even with the access key Leia had borrowed, because Mister Kenobi said the Star Destroyer was on lockdown which meant good and bad. Good, because the Imperial security could not find them. Bad, because they could not find her parents and Winter until the lockdown could be overridden.

R2 was working on decrypting the passcode to an access panel leading into the holding cells, twirping quietly in what Leia guessed was concentration. Mister Kenobi paced slowly before them, speaking in a hushed voice into his comlink; Leia overheard words that sounded good, like "reinforcements" which she knew was a just long word her Daddy often used that meant "help" -

With a shuddering crash, the room around them fell into darkness. Leia shrieked in reaction, clinging to Luke beside her as she did the same to him. The darkness persisted for only a moment more before a familiar flash of blue lit up the small space; Leia smiled and Luke gasped at the sight.

"Whoa! What is that?!"

"Mister Kenobi let me hold it!"

"Really? I wanna hold it too Papa!"

Mister Kenobi, whose face was illuminated by the blue glow, smiled and laughed softly through his nose. "Maybe a little later."

Leia knew Luke meant Mister Kenobi when he said "papa" even though he wasn't really his father, which confused her a little but not that much. Mostly because Mister Kenobi did everything her daddy did, like watch after them and smile even when he was worried inside, and even pretend to steal her nose (even though Leia knew he didn't really steal her nose, but she played along anyways).

When a red emergency light flickered on above their heads, Mister Kenobi tucked his sword away and knelt down beside them.

"Why's the light's out?" Luke asked, brows wrinkled in concern. He was gaining more colour by the minute, after Mister Kenobi and placed his hands on him and made him feel better. Leia didn't know how, but she could feel he did something to help Luke. He was still very tired and bruised, but he looked much less sad.

"It is a good thing; it means we will be heading to safety very soon. I've been able to contact the Royal Guard, and they have sent help - "

"Reinforcements?" Leia noted.

Mister Kenobi nodded, "That's right, little one. The power outage means they are intercepting the lockdown. They've sent in a shuttle, and we will need to meet them in the hangar bay soon. Once Artoo can get into the holding cells, we will find your parents and head back to Alderaan."

"Home!" Leia said gleefully, but her face fell a little in realization. "Will ... you be going home too? To Tatooine?"

In reaction, Luke held her hand tighter. Even the thought of her letting his hand go ever again seemed to open a deep rift inside her, one very empty and very sad. Mister Kenobi seemed to notice this, letting the back of his fingers brush along her cheek, a gesture of gentle consolation. "No need to worry on that now, young one."

That sadness in her was soothed somehow, feeling much less heavy. Leia felt it lift, as if Mister Kenobi brushed it away like a tear. No, more like he took it onto himself.

The help would come soon, and take them back home. Maybe then she could have a bath, and eat, and then even have her birthday celebration after all. Leia had nearly forgotten again that it was her birthday. So much had happened to her in the past … she could not recall how many hours or days it had been. Thinking about going home made her more hopeful, but Leia also decided she would be happy if she could just sleep a little bit too. She was very, very tired.

Luke, as if he sensed her trail of thoughts, mumbled, "Papa … s'it bedtime? I'm tired."

"You've both had a very, very long night. Try to close your eyes now, for a while." Mister Kenobi brushed his fingers over Luke's eyelids gently, and then to Leia's. "I'll be right here when you wake."

It was the last thing she heard before being lulled swiftly to slumber.

Obi-Wan smiled, put at ease having the twins sleeping and safer in such a state; he had only needed a touch of the Force to nudge them there, knowing how exhausted they were. He felt all too much the same, though he continually pushed that aside, summoning a simple meditation ritual filtering through his thoughts to assist him. Obi-Wan knew had been through much worse than this before, during the War and even as a Jedi Padawan, caught in the perils of the duties of Knighthood, gone days without food and water, been tortured and beaten and broken and bruised. There was something about this sort of pain in him, though, that differed in an inexplicable way.

As a Jedi, Obi-Wan had been taught throughout his years in the Order of serenity, of focus, of a ridding of emotions for the balance of the Force. However, that humanity inside him, that part of him that was a man and not a Jedi, had been fighting him during this entire journey, and his heart felt heavy with so many things. This cause he fought for was nothing assigned out of duty by the Council. These children before him were not just lives to be saved. These children were the spawns of the alleged Chosen One. Though Obi-Wan had thought he had given up on this prophecy long ago, on the shores of Mustafar, he knew in that moment that there was something eternal and infinitely impactful about where he was, and who he was saving.

Somehow, even more than this, these little ones were Anakin Skywalker's children. His memories took him back to their first night together on Polis Massa, watching the twins sleep nestled in safety of one another, feeling a fatigue much like what he had felt then. Just like before, though circumstances differed, Obi-Wan was willing and determined to do whatever he could to ensure the little one's safety, that temptation to flee far away from him then. Like before, he held a anxious heart but a bright hope for the both of them. And like before, what he wanted most was to get them as far away from Vader as he could.

Obi-Wan had managed a weak transmission with the Royal Guard on Alderaan, who were busy dealing with not only another incendiary bomb but the attack on the Palace and the capture of the King and Queen. The Imperials, whom Obi-Wan had seen fleeing the Palace before his capture, had been there to find the necklace and that only, and were long gone by the time the Royal Guard had been able to mount a counterattack. Knowing that the royals were relatively safe seemed to put the Guard at ease, and they had sent a fleet to their aid immediately. Their job, then, was to escape the Star Destroyer Vengeance unscathed; though he doubted the Imperials would resist a surrender in the face of the damage they had already done, Obi-Wan had learned never to expect the expected when it came to dealing with any adversary.

R2-D2 twirped a little tune then, grabbing Obi-Wan's attention, and the sound of the door being opened was a welcomed one. He affectionately patted the little droid's domed head as he wheeled to his side. "Well done Artoo."

The room beyond was dim, emergency lights illuminating only vague figures in the dimness. Again, the Jedi drew his blade, and a sensation like a breath on his neck alerted him to a presence on his left side. The blue light of his saber shone better on the figure, a man, who stammered with a glowering look, "By order of the Emperor - "

Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, which caused the officer to jolt back a step in shock. No doubt it's been years since he's seen a Jedi in action.

"Unless you would like to see exactly what I think about what the Emperor orders, I suggest you lower your blaster."

"That's exactly what I've been telling him, Master Kenobi."

He recognized the baritone lilt instantly, and through the darkness could see the silhouette of Bail Organa through the glare of a transparasteel boundary. They exchanged a quick nod.

"I said b-by order of the Emperor - "

"Traitor, or coward?"

"... pardon me?"

"Do you consider yourself more of a traitor, or a coward?"

"Sir - "

"There is surveillance in this area I presume?"

Confused, the man nodded.

"Perfect, then. You have two options: be captured on camera releasing the holding cells or be captured fleeing the area and allowing an intruder to do such themselves. It all depends on if you wish to be portrayed as a traitor or a coward."

"But that's - "

"Or you could hand over your blaster, release the holding cells, and leave quietly."

"Or I could hand over my blaster, release the holding cells, and leave quietly."

The man repeated the phrase verbatim before moving to do just as he had spoken. As Obi-Wan approached the cells, Bail Organa shook his head with a rueful laugh. "Is that why they call you 'The Negotiator'?"

"Not exactly. I only resort to persuasion if I don't have the patience to negotiate further."

At his side, Breha stood close in vigil, a smile in her tired brown eyes as she regarded the Jedi, "You are safe; I was worried that since you were not with us, the worst had happened."

"They had taken me in for questioning." Obi-Wan replied, deciding in that moment it wasn't necessary to mention anything about Vader, at least not then, "Luke and Leia are in my care, safely outside."

"Winter informed us of the feats they had accomplished to keep themselves safe." Bail said, in his arms a sleeping girl that Obi-Wan surmised was the Princess' playmate. She bore a striking resemblance to the Princess besides her stark white hair.

"Your daughter is a resourceful young girl." Obi-Wan commented, a bit of pride in his voice, reminded all too well of the resourcefulness of the child's birth mother. "There will be many stories to tell when we get back to the Palace."

"So i have heard already, of an elaborate ruse, disguises, and something about a necklace?" Bail sent him a questioning look that looked for confirmation of something he assumed was truth. Obi-Wan acknowledged it with a half-nod.

Breha whispered in reply to the unspoken exchange. "So it is, then, the necklace of Padmé Amidala's?"

"Yes. There is someone in the Empire ... someone who wants it for themselves. Clearly, they were willing to stop at nothing to achieve this."

Again, the wordless exchange between Bail and the Jedi Master occurred, confirming a suspicion lying in his still brown gaze, and he said softly, "No doubt, then, it is imperative we allow them no further heading in their search."

The door to the cell opened finally with a hiss, and Bail was already moving, already strategizing, "I assume you've contacted the Royal Guard?"

"By the look of things, they should already be onboard anticipating our departure." Obi-Wan replied, "The Lars family is in their care now, back on the surface; they have been held by Imperial guard ever since their arrival on Alderaan."

"No doubt I will be stuck in Senate meetings for days after this resolves," Bail sighed, that stress on his face already showing. "Nothing like a little governmental unrest to keep you on your toes. Breha had thought the recent taxation reformation was bad enough."

Breha, who had gone ahead of them slightly, was already at the children's side, caressing her daughter and taking her into her arms with a look flooded with more emotions than Obi-Wan could name. Obi-Wan followed and cradled Luke once again.

Each with a child resting in their arms, the three followed R2-D2 as he lead them quietly forward, hopefully to a swift and simple safety ahead.

Something in the Force sent a sensation down Obi-Wan's spine, gently warning that this may not be true. After all, he still had not reclaimed Luke's half necklace, and he was determined not to leave without it.

"So, Master Kenobi, do you have a plan for our escape?"

Obi-Wan shot Bail a look, brows raised as if he had just received an insult, "Your Highness, it hurts me that you even feel the need to ask."

"A pleasantry, Master," Bail said, a small smile in his words, "I was simply inquiring as to whether this will be an escape of stealth, or of more ... forceful means, no pun intended."

"We will make our way to the hangar with as little commotion as possible, but if the need arises ... "Obi-Wan, with his free hand, offered Bail the blaster he had taken off of the Imperial officer. The senator chuckled.

"Are you suggesting 'aggressive negotiations', Master?"

"I hope you haven't lost your touch with a blaster."

"As long as you're still as quick with your saber -"

"Lest you forget, I fought General Grievous single-handedly far too many times during the War. If anyone has taught me to hone my reflexes, it was that tyrant."

"Was it on Or Tuma that he managed to best you?"

"Best me? I don't recall anyone hearing about our skirmish on Or Tuma, but he certainly did not best me - wound me is a better way of putting it."

Breha rolled her eyes in slight at the two, not protesting at their playful show as she followed them quietly down the corridor.

Fidel could not still his racing heart, battering at his chest, drowning him in his ears, coursing through unsteady breath. Thousands and thousands of thoughts blinded him, all echoing back over and over again in his mind.

He stood alone, bathed in the darkness of one of the Star Destroyers many debriefing rooms, watching the blinking lights of a control panel before him. Out of the bay window above, the first waves of Alderaanian Guard frigates could be seen in approach, as was inevitable considering the state the Imperial assault had left the Royal Palace in. The Senate was most likely beside itself, wrought with outcries of the attack from Alderaan's ally systems, and with the Senator in their possession it only made for an even greater list of grievances.

It took all Fidel's effort to stand, ignoring the trembling in his knees. In his right hand, clutched like a dying man would to life, was the item that had been ailing him for so, so long. The thing he had lied and cheated to get in between his fingers - fingers stained with the grime of his sin and the blood of his rage and the scars of his regrets. The very thing that had become his end.

Absentmindedly, he spared a glance down at it again, curiously, as if maybe in his hands it was something much more than what it had turned out to be. But no. It was no omen, no weapon of power or destruction, no key to free him or of any wealth to buy him riches. It was dirty and broken. It was made of cheap organic material and incredibly worn down. It was ugly. And as painful as it was to be doubly affirmed of its pity, it seemed to hurt him even more so because that was exactly who he was, then, as a man.

"No matter." Fidel spoke aloud to only himself. A sideways smile crept into his mouth, stretching at the corners with trembling tension, whispering with fervency, "No matter what it meant or did not mean, no matter what it's worth or what not, no matter at all."

Fidel had decided already what he was to do with it.

"Tit for tat, I say." He chuckled then, pleased with himself, reaching into the pocket of his belt, "If Lord Vader is so quick to dismiss me, to toss me aside, then so shall I be. So too shall I be."

Fidel raised his multitool, the small blue lighter flame flickering in his trembling grip. He stared, mesmerized by the glow in the darkness, the small but powerful weapon he grasped.

Just as he raised his hand, the flame beginning to lick the pendant, the familiar sound of the door behind him opening halted his movements. Fidel didn't turn, didn't move at all; it seemed even that action was not worth his effort anymore.

The voice that spoke to him was familiar, but not in any way that caused him calm. "Fidel."

He … is here. Why is he here? Fidel's grip tightened. He remained silent.

"I have come to commemorate you. Clearly, I had underestimated your abilities. You leave me pleasantly surprised, indeed."

Lord Vader's sharp breathing kept Fidel constant, steadfast in his stance. His hands, however, began to tremble just slightly. His resolve was breaking down.

If those words had been uttered by his superior even just hours before, Fidel would have groveled at Vader's feet. Nothing had he desired more than this, than to be acknowledged. How his thoughts betrayed him, sending him back to the memories he cursed and called false if only to deny their existence. Memories of his days in the Academy, of the strides he took in assurance that he would graduate at the top of his class, that he would climb and relentlessly climb until he rose to a position where he would be successful, powerful, and if not those, then able. Able to escape the pitiful life of being a merchant's son. Able to never again go nights without food. Able to demand things from others that he was demanded to do for them as a child.

At the age of eighteen standard years he had been watching the Holonet live stream as Senator Palpatine had taken his position as the leader of the New Galactic Empire. His belly had burned as the roar of applause had welcomed the man into the new era, and Fidel had felt a hunger like no other. Power. It was almost unearthly, how he had suddenly grown famished with a need for it. How the first taste of it had sparked an addiction into a ravenous flame. More, more, more, his drive had begged him for it. And just as it seemed he would be so close to engorging himself finally, he was left again starving, eyes picking apart the bare bones clutched in his hand.

This necklace. All of this, every single moment of his strain and suffering, all for this.

"… this necklace."

Fidel muttered the words before he even realize he had spoken aloud. When he heard Vader's breaths remain unbroken, his mind tumbled on, stumbling aloud again his thoughts.

"… th-this wretched … pitiful thing. I had barely stopped to think twice why such a man-like machine as my lord … would want for it. Would search high and low, would risk so much for it. Was it some vain hunger for power? Or something even worse, even more useless … a sentiment? Something as pathetic as love?"

"Lieutenant. I suggest you hand the item over to me, and retire yourself from duty."

Fidel turned, then, and faced the dark figure who seemed even more menacing in the dimmed lights, hand outstretched in wait. But the thoughts that burned in his belly infuriated him even more than the strength of his fear, and he went on.

"No. No, no, it can't be that, it cannot be – you bombed an entire village of Alderaanian innocents simply to smoke out a witness who was useless to us, you had me manipulate and traumatize the Princess of Alderaan for your precious information, you forced me to perform interrogations on a child - you made me drug him and hit him and beat him until he surrendered, you … you left me for dead at the feet of that Jedi …"

The remnants of Fidel's feverish exclamations left him panting stridently, marked his face with tears. A split-second lapse of clarity came over him, in realization of the line behind him that he had not only crossed, but sprinted from in abandon. There would be no turning back from this. Even so, his words were not deterred.

"Commemorate me … commemorate me?" The Lieutenant smiled, laughed sadly, "No … you have proven incapable of sentiment – at least, not towards I. You deserve every moment of suffering you have caused me, you deserve to fail at this mission you have begun. And you, my lord … deserve none of my pity."

The floor beneath their feet was jutted and rocked at the sound of impact that shuddered around them, summoning alarms to scream into their ears, and summoning Fidel to action.

What occurred then seemed to happen in retrospect, as a memory one studied in leisurely pace. Vader's hand, which had been held towards him in wait, was raised and drawn into a fist at the cadence of Fidel's words. Likewise, in the same motion Fidel had tossed his multitool towards his adversary to instead grip the handle of his blaster rifle holstered at his side. His feet were raised by the power of Vader's unseen hand, but not with enough force to dissuade Fidel from aiming and successfully firing his weapon into the transparasteel window bay behind him.

And the pitiful, wretched thing dangling in his right hand was tossed away. Moments later, Fidel was thrown backwards along with it.

A crash, a bright light, and Luke was jolted out of sleep.

That alarm was still ringing in his ears, but his surroundings had changed. Instead of Leia resting her head on his shoulder, Ben's shoulder was beneath his head. He clung reflexively to the man's uniform, eyes wider then as his awareness increased with each passing moment. To his left, the King and Queen were knelt hidden behind a barricade. The Queen held in her arms both Leia and Winter, who were awake as he was; Leia's face was set in a look Luke recognized, brown eyes bright and sharp as if ready to join the fight herself, while Winter was huddled closer and more fearful.

The King held a blaster and was firing shots in the times he raised his sightline over the height of the barricade for a better view; yes, in return, they were being shot at. Luke looked to his right, seeing four men dressed in uniform similar to that of Ben's, wearing helmets that covered their eyes and also firing blasters. The symbols on their breast pockets was that of the Alderaanian House, Luke remembered, and realized they must have been on their side. Then, he looked up to Ben who had noticed his consciousness and was instantly giving him those soft blue-grey eyes that soothed his unspoken fear.

"It's alright, Luke," Ben said calmly, as if they were not being barraged with bullets above their heads. In his right hand Ben held the blue saber he had seen him wielding earlier. "Don't be frightened."

"What's happening?!"

Ben could not reply, however, as one of the guards motioned them to stand as a clearing in the fire made way. Then they were moving, huddled close and crouched low as to avoid attention, heading toward a shuttle across the hangar; Luke, though held close to Ben protectively, did his best to scan his surroundings. He looked out along the huge hangar bay and saw the stars outside the exit port and the glittering green orb below that was Alderaan. The whole scenario reminded him of the footage he would see on the Holonet in Mos Espa when he travelled there with his Aunt and Uncle, talking of Imperials and Rebels and opposing forces and noble causes. He had always admired the pilots, and wished one day to be one just like them. However, there and then in the thick of the battle, Luke was not sure if he had really known what he was wishing for -

Luke was shielded by Ben's body as another loud noise pierced his ears; a blast like a bomb resounded, and a spray of transparisteel showered down from above them. The guards shouted commands at one another, and he heard Leia shriek, tossed back a bit and away from her mother's arms. The King moved to go to her, but Ben was already moving, using his saber to guard himself from the barrage of fire that had resumed.

Luke, left alone for only a moment, was suddenly washed over with clarity. The fatigue, the pain, the weariness of his body was gone. The boy felt something in him, a pang alike to that of hunger, a twinge alike to that of pain, and though he knew he was frightened something else much stronger overcame the emotion. It called to him.

Then, he was moving, his eyes drawing him to a body that was lying on the floor surrounded by glass in front of him, his bare feet carrying him there unfazed by the transparisteel slivers under his skin. The sounds around him had muted, a low hum silencing them out, electric and powerful, seizing his every thought. It called to him.

No, he called to him.

The man, now before him, moved his lips slowly. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, and his chest heaved in shuddered, strained breaths. Sharp, translucent shards impaled him, reflecting the lights around them like the stars he had seen, alike to the look in the dark eyes, bright with tears.

It was the Empire man. He called to him.

"Boy ..."

Luke reached out and met the hand that moved toward him weakly. The man pressed an item firmly into his palm with a strength that was fast fading. He looked to want to speak, to explain, to ask for pardon. All these things were choked back.

"Thank you." Luke whispered, and with his feeling sent a bit of this to the man best he knew how -

A crash, a bright light, and Luke was jolted into darkness.

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think!