A/N: This chapter is a bit Mothma heavy, so if you're only here for Krennic, I am sorry for that! Krenny will be back next chapter in FULL FORCE. FULL. BTW the next chapter, I hope, will rock your socks.

The fact that Mon could not unite the rebels into one strong alliance continued to eat at her. Just saying that she had an idea about the Empire possibly developing a superweapon was not enough. There was too much distrust in the rebel factions. She needed proof. Being confined to Yavin 4 as a result of her son's birth was bittersweet; it gave her a much needed period to take a break from the general chaos but took time away from the cause.

But it was also during that time, those sleepless nights, that she formulated a plan. It would be a plan that would take years—possibly ten or more—but she was confident that it would secure the unity that she sought.

One of the main components of destroying Orson Krennic's project was gaining the trust of Saw Gerrera. Mon had never met him face to face, but she had exchanged a few short transmissions with him in the early days of her deflection. He had quickly proven to be fickle and unreliable. Their types of rebellion differed so greatly that she had long given up on him. But since that time things had changed: he had made strides in various sectors of the Outer Rim, Ashoka had Fulcrum, and Yavin 4 was growing into a stronghold. Perhaps it was time to revisit his alliance.

Because they were so different, Mon saw it difficult to not see that Gerrerra's tactics edged up against terrorism. But she had come to realize in the recent years that his help was their best shot at survival.

As the pieces of her plan slowly gelled, she thought about Orson more and more. If her plan were to be successful, it would mean ultimate and irrevocable failure for him. When Mon was alone to muse (which was rare) she wracked her brain for different outcomes of this scenario, but the plan always pointed back to Krennic's downfall. She knew she would not only be working against him, but she would be striving to destroy everything he had been working on for the past nine years.

In spite of her strong convictions, this reality affected her greatly. She reminded herself that they never were truly together; their relationship never had time to grow. It was cut off before it could ever bloom. A great emptiness seized her as she thought of that abrupt night on Pekest. And she knew it was because of Orson.

As Mon Mothma watched her son, Jobin, sleeping placidly against the jungle sounds of Yavin 4, she found herself longing for Orson Krennic's touch again. The feeling burned itself firmly into her, threatening to be too much to bear. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting the thoughts, the images, the longings.

She focused on her son's chest as it rose and fell softly in the moonlight. Of course, he raised the stakes immensely: not only did she need to come back alive to be a mother to her child, but she needed to succeed in acquiring the Celestial Power plans. It seemed no one from the inside was deflecting anytime soon so she'd have to be the one to go in. The timing, though, would have to be perfect.

At the close of Leia's tutoring session the next day, she pulled Bail aside.

"Absolutely not," He said without hesitation in response to her plan.

"Bail—"

"Have you told Davits about this idea of yours?"

"Of course not. He'd tie me down."

"With good reason!" Bail said, "Mon, you have Jobin now—"

"All the more cause to fight for freedom," Mon said in a fierce, low voice, "Who are we fighting for, if not for our children?"

Bail took a swift intake of breath. His face did not care to hide his look of exasperation, but then his features softened as he regarded her.

"I miss you in the senate," he admitted, "but Mon, what you're thinking of doing is extremely dangerous. And let's not forget that you had more than a fair amount of trouble getting off Coruscant in the first place. And now you want to go back? And what about the failed mission on Geonosis?"

"This is moving too slowly," Mon countered, "I've been patient for too long. We haven't had any major advancements in years. Sabotaging trade routes and supply lines is one thing, but if I can acquire the plans, it would change everything. Geonosis was botched because of carelessness. I can blend in much better on Coruscant."

"There's no convincing you otherwise," Bail sighed as they watched Cassian lift Leia onto his shoulders and fly her around the disembarkation hangar like a starfighter. Mon lifted an eyebrow in surprise; the boy was usually much more reserved, but he had seemed to have taken a liking to the princess.

"She couldn't stop talking about his lesson on espionage last week." Bail nodded his head toward the boy.

"He did a good job with it. We're all proud of him here. He's come a long way."

"All right then, Mon," Bail beckoned to a giggling Leia as he walked up the ramp into the Tantive IV, "I can't promise you my help, but I'll do what I can."

"Thank you, Bail," she said, "And please, tell no one of this. Any of it."

"As always." He beckoned to Leia again, "All right, sweetheart, we're off."

The child leapt down from Cassian's shoulders with the dexterity of a Jedi and ran onto the ship. She grumbled and disappeared. But only a moment later, her head popped out.

"Thank you, Senator Mothma." She said.

"You're welcome, Leia," Mon smiled and she and Cassian watched together as the ship taxied out of the hangar in preparation for take off.

Cassian glanced at her, once again reticent and stoic. Mon could feel him wanting to speak.

"What is it that you want to say, Cassian?" She asked him without taking her eyes off of the departing ship.

"I can help."

"With?"

"Your mission."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your secret mission. To Coruscant. To steal plans?"

"What—no—how did you hear?"

Cassian betrayed his pride with a small half smile which disappeared as quickly as it had manifested. His display of childlike antics with the princess had allowed him the perfect cover to eavesdrop on the conversation. Mon shook her head, hiding the fact that she was impressed with a look of disapproval.

"Not this time."

"I have experience!" Cassian exclaimed in a soft voice as he trailed her back to her office, "I just instructed Leia on this very type of mission. I have connections with certain smugglers—"

"—No—"

"—who could get us to Coruscant safely. And they're still doing inventory downstairs on the new acquisition of arms. So they won't miss a few blasters and such. I could procure them without General Draven knowing."

"Cassian," Mon said in a low voice as a few pilots passed them, "you're a child. And you need whatever is left of your childhood. Please—"

"But then, you should stay too, since you're a mother." He responded immediately. Mon didn't have very much experience with teenage boys, but she figured rebellion was in their hormones.

"At least that's what General Draven thinks."

He knew his words had the effect he intended, but she didn't show it.

"You're staying put." Mon told him with what she thought was a firm tone of finality, but he continued to trail behind her as she entered her office. They were now safe from curious ears.

"You need my help." He persisted as she busied herself with a new file of unscrambled Imperial transmissions.

"And why is that?" She asked in a flat, offhanded way as she worked.

"Because I'm your safest bet." His answer was not the one she expected, and it got her attention. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

Mon considered Cassian's words in thoughtful silence. This had been the most he had ever spoken to her in one sitting. His playing with Leia had been a surprise, but the entire conversation had been a shock. Impressive.

"I'll think about it." She said and, with a nod, dismissed him from her presence. And Mon would think about it. She had quickly learned in recent years to consider all options, even the ones that seemed ridiculous.

Thirty minutes later, while breastfeeding Jobin, Mon continued to weigh Cassian's proposal. He was her safest bet. She called Draven in.

"How is Cassian progressing in training?" She inquired.

"Much like his studies, I imagine," Draven responded as he took Jobin and burped him over his shoulder, "He's smart as a whip. Very quiet, very studious. Reserved, even. Wise beyond his fifteen years. The kid has seen a lot."

"Yes. Yes, he has."

"He really helped us get out of that scrape on Sullust." Draven continued, "He really is quite resourceful; it's why I brought him back with me."

She nodded.

"Why do you ask?"

"Curious about your observations," Mon said, "He's very good on my end—just wondering about yours."

"All right then," Draven was satisfied with the answer. "Shall I put Jobin down for his nap now?"

"Indeed." Mon said, "I must pick through these transmissions."

Draven left her, cooing to Jobin the whole way. Mon smiled; he was proving to be a fantastic father and she allowed herself a moment of gratitude for it.

Her eyes started to scan the transmissions on the screen before her, hungrily searching for any clues. She'd trained herself to spot certain key phrases or names so that she could piece together the never ending puzzle that was Project Celestial Power (or whatever they chose to call it these days).

Talk of a huge Imperial Military Ball on Coruscant. That was interesting but not unexpected: the Empire loved all things having to do with war. She had happened upon an invite list. Usually this type of thing would be discarded, but if she had been planning on journeying there, perhaps this would be a good cover. Over seven hundred people were on the guest list and surely more were to attend. She was sure she could throw together a disguise. Navigating the journey would be difficult. And then she thought of Cassian.

She knew she had kept that Imperial uniform for a reason.

It had been nearly a year since their last meeting and Krennic had still not recovered. He roamed the battle station like a roving specter. It seemed that her unexpected appearances had had a paralyzing effect on him: he now saw her everywhere. His heart would leap against his ribs whenever he imagined her. Krennic was so distracted by the thought of her that he had difficulty getting anything done. Tarkin continued to lay in wait, taking silent but meticulous note of Krennic's behavior during Imperial visits.

But Orson had no way of expelling the pent up energy inside of him on the isolated station. He looked forward to his journey to Coruscant next month for the Military Ball. He was certain he could find some young thing to relieve him.