Disclaimer: George Lucas used to own Star Wars, and it's now owned by Disney.

Warnings: This story is rated M for strong sexual situations, language and violence. You have been warned.

AN: Hello, everybody! This will be a shorter chapter than usual. This is mainly a transitional chapter, meant to bridge the gap in between chapter 35 and the next chapter, where everyone's next moves will be shown. Make no mistake, however: the next chapter will show everyone planning out their next moves, and the different paths the characters will take.
To those who wanted to slap Yoda for his actions, keep in mind that he was not meaning it in a malevolent way. :P I think that Yoda was genuinely thinking that Anakin could escape from the planet somehow; he genuinely thought that Skywalker would escape, and so he wasn't willing to risk the order to go get him. Because Anakin is a powerful Jedi, Yoda wasn't willing to say it to his face. They had to go get Padme. But because Padme is a mere senator, he feels free to express his opinion to her. :P The attachments comes second to the order, in this case. There's also another reason. In the 'Revenge of the Sith' novel, Yoda goes to the Senate to fight Palpatine already knowing that he has lost. In this situation, because of the added backup of the Jedi, I think Yoda thinks that he can win. He isn't merely going to fight at that place, he really is going to kill the Chancellor. So he goes over there and he gets his butt kicked, and he realizes that he is far outmatched and overpowered by the Sith Lord more so than he thought. I think it scares him, and in his desperation it causes him to abandon his mission on Coruscant in order to save what's left of the Order. ;-D It doesn't excuse it, but Yoda does have his reasons for doing what he does. ;-D I hope this sheds some light on Yoda's actions, for those who were upset by what he did. :-D Enjoy!
- PH316

Forbidden Longing

A collab fic by Lilac Moon and PyramidHead316

Chapter 36: Transitions

The bulky gray cruiser sped along through space undaunted in its journey. They were now on the Tantive IV, Bail's personal transport. They had boarded it after rendezvousing with Bail's staff, who had retrieved the craft and gone ahead to meet up with the Jedi. Serra was now on board with them. After assuring that the younglings were safe and secure, Serra had joined them, stating that she needed to make sure that Anakin was all right, after he had rescued her from the Temple. Padmé welcomed her into the fold, eager to see another Jedi. Greetings were exchanged, and now the members of the group were sitting around the table and scattered amid the room discussing strategy. It was an odd, eclectic group; three Jedi, a senator and some droids, with Shaak Ti somewhere else, and Padmé checking on something else, but Anakin, Yoda, Bail, and Aayla paid close attention, with the droids waiting silently. Serra was also was a noticeable absence.

"Where are we going?" Anakin asked, inching his head towards Bail in the doorway.

"To Polis Massa," Bail replied, standing in the frame of the doorway leading to the corridor. He towered over everyone else in the room, even Anakin, who was currently sitting down in his chair. "It's an outpost beyond the Republic. The Empire has no influence there; neither do the Separatists and the Trade Federation," he said, assuring them. Yoda was also sitting nearby next to Skywalker, patiently hearing anything they had to say.

"How do we know the Empire won't pursue us there, anyway?" Aayla said. She was leaning against a panel in the room.

"The Polis Massans are very secretive; they value their privacy, and don't like outsiders," Bail said, assuring the teal skinned Jedi Knight. "They function as a medical facility for travelers who find themselves stuck in space with a serious emergency, and the Polis Massans are compassionate enough to help them out, but after that visitors are expected to go on their way. It's perfect for us, until we can figure out our next move," Bail said, relaying what he knew about the Polis Massans. The group breathed a sigh of relief.

Yoda breathed in deeply. "Very well. Trust your judgment, we must, Senator," he said.

"It's decided then. We'll head for Polis Massa," Bail said, with a slight smile.

Anakin sighed. "I suppose it'll do to get Padmé looked over in a medical lab," he said.

"Anakin, she's fine. I made sure that she was safe," Bail assured him.

"Forgive me, Senator, if I don't take your word for it," Anakin said with a frown. Bail smirked at him. He recognized the look of a husband wanting to check on his wife.

Anakin got up from his seat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something important to do."

He left the others behind, without saying a word.

Anakin found himself in the cargo hold of the Alderaanian vessel. The storage room was gray and dark, surrounded by boxes and crates of supplies stored in the depths of the ship for emergencies and other occurrences. The cargo hold was sterile; Alderaanian vessels were renowned for being artistically designed, but this aspect of the ship wasn't one of them, Anakin thought. Still, it served the purposes of what he was looking to do here. If he knew the other person as well as he thought, the same thing would have occurred to her.

The doors soon slid open opposite him. Padmé stepped into the room, looking around at the different crates occupying the room. This room was away from the others, and that served their purposes for now. They stared at each other across the hold, conveying a world of emotion in those two simple glances. And then the moment broke. Padmé rushed into his arms, and Anakin held her tightly with his dark clad arms, relieved to finally have his most precious person safely in his arms.

Padmé cried into his shoulder. "Oh Anakin, I'm so glad you're all right! I was so worried about you," Padmé sobbed, embarrassed by how overwhelmed by emotion she was. She was relieved to finally have him safe and unharmed, though it had been a close one for a moment there. "I was concerned the clone troopers would catch up to you, and when I saw you and Obi-Wan dueling…" she trailed off.

Anakin held her close. "Padmé, I'm all right," he assured her, wondering how reassuring he was being. For a while he wasn't sure he would make it, and he hated to admit he was worried about not reaching Padmé safely. But they were safe now. Somehow things always worked out for the best when they put their best effort forward. Anakin knew that wasn't always so. "It's okay. We're safe now," he said, thinking about if he had made those disastrous decisions he was making under Palpatine, had Obi-Wan not put a stop to the mistakes with his horrid actions. Thankfully, he didn't have to think much about those things. He expected her to be reassured, but instead she sobbed even harder, burying her face in the crook of his robes, and wrapping her arms around his leather covered shoulders tightly.

Padmé shook her head. "It's all gone, Ani," she cried, shuddering with heavy sobs. "The Republic, the Jedi…the Senate is still intact, but it will lose all its power to legislate laws under Palpatine. It's as good as useless now. Palpatine is in charge now. He and his cronies. And all their underlings that serve them. They'll trample over everyone's rights and enslave the galaxy with their schemes. And it's all our fault," she said through her cries. Padmé wiped away her tears with her fingers. "We couldn't stop them," she said regretfully, feeling a world of guilt as she shook her head. If only they had gotten there sooner, if only they had acted together against Palpatine and Obi-Wan, they might have been able to prevent this tragedy that had fallen on the galaxy. The what-ifs were numerous and piling up in her mind, providing Padmé with an infinite number of scenarios of what would have happened if they had done things differently. The possibilities were almost too much for her to bear.

Anakin shook his head. "No, it's not," he said, denying the mere idea. "We could never have anticipated that the Sith would interfere the way he did. We didn't know that Obi-Wan would sell us out so thoroughly to everybody's worst enemy." He pushed her back a bit, gripping her shoulders as he stared sternly at her. "We did the best we could, and it is not our fault that things turned out the way they did. I will not have you blaming yourself for things that you're not responsible for," he said seriously, staring into her chocolate eyes.

Padmé continued to cry, and she said nothing in response. She buried her face in his robes, and once again let her emotions overwhelm her. Anakin wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest while comforting her. He felt the tears stinging at his eyes, but he held them back. He was done crying, and the focus was now on rebuilding – and getting redemption. Not for himself, but for all of the children who had died in the Temple, the Jedi across the galaxy, and the innocents of the Republic who would suffer under Palpatine's rule. And he would start by tearing down this Empire that Obi-Wan had built, and rebuilding the Republic back to its former state. He stared past Padmé, surveying the image of the Temple burning in his mind, the soldiers dead in the Temple, Jedi lying bloody and mutilated, and chaos everywhere he looked. Obi-Wan would pay. Somehow, some way, he would find a way to make this right.

They stayed there in the cargo hold for a while, crying over what they had lost, in one's case, and contemplating what the future held, in the other's case. They had lost a great deal of their backgrounds to the destruction today, and countless friends and allies, and seen the Republic itself torn down, but at least they still had each other. That was all that mattered. They had each other, and they would now have to rely on that support to help them throughout the coming dark times. They both knew the dark times were coming. While they would try their hardest to remove Palpatine as quickly as possible, they both knew the next several years, or months at least, were going to be hell. Still, all was not lost. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Things seemed hopeless now, but they knew things would change. They had to hope the support of their family and friends would be enough to get them through this dark time, and allow them to restore some of what had been taken from them.

There was darkness surrounding him everywhere, and he had only the faintest idea of his surroundings. He knew he was in a medical bay most likely, but nothing else. This sensation of floating in a void was unusual – it wasn't meditation, it wasn't dreaming, it was something else. This was simply nothingness, with him unable to discern even the slightest of details. He tried to move his limbs, to see if they still worked, but they did not respond. He figured he was strapped down – he had already figured out that much, at least. The subject wrestled indecisively in his mind, trying to will his body to do something, anything to tell him its status.

The droid operated on him carefully, outside in the real world. He was laid out on a medical table clad in his dark robes, while the droid maneuvered its limbs into precise expertly designed motions. It moved its limbs with precise mechanical precision, not making a single mistake as it was positioned near the prone body's head. Ordinarily, the Sith Lord would have been forced to remain awake during the full operation, in order to strengthen his connection to the dark side through the pain that was wracking him. However, due to the delicate nature of the operation and the extremely precise movements needed on the part of the droid, the patient had to be rendered immobile. Hence, he had been given a local anesthetic to ease the burden. Unfortunately, this had the side effect of leaving the subject's mind in a state of odd displacement, barely conscious, yet somewhat aware of what was going on around him. The subject shifted slightly on the medical platform, with only the slightest hints of movement giving away the fact that he was conscious. The subject's strong mind was formidable, and not quite easily swayed by narcotics; however powerful they were, they were still barely a match for him in the long run. The medical droid inserted a needle into the subject's eye, as it tried to reconnect the optic nerve to the implant it was installing.

A series of images played in his mind. Fire in the Temple. Jedi dying under his guns, his soldiers. Anakin confronting him. Blades clashing under the threat of destruction. Him losing the fight. Anakin delivering the fatal slash, taking half of his face. His blood boiled under the surface, as he recalled how humiliatingly Anakin had delivered the final blow during a moment of distraction. He had become distracted, and that had allowed his foe to easily take him down with a gigantic amount of luck. He had been humiliated, and Vader had been left clutching his face in agony. It was enraging how easily the situation had been allowed to happen, and embarrassing that he had been defeated so easily. Now he was left with the consequences. A curious sensation had begun to take hold in him. He had felt hatred before, but it was directed at Anakin's actions, his stubbornness and drive not to submit to him, not against his former apprentice himself. Now, however, he was starting to hate the boy himself. Vader needed to capture Anakin, because he hated him just a little bit now, so that he could make him submit, showing him who his true Master was.

Vader watched as the darkness swirled around him, and decided to be patient. Fine, he would allow himself to enter into a respite. He would recover his strength, and when he was wielding the full power of the dark side he would strike. The boy would not escape him forever. Skywalker was out there, and as long as he was, the former Obi-Wan would pursue him. The darkness always won, despite what the Jedi thought otherwise. But for now, he would relinquish himself to what this droid and his Lord Sidious had planned for him. Vader lay back metaphorically in the corner of his mind, as the droid continued to operate on him. The galaxy was already under their control, and there would soon be nothing delaying his destiny when he regained control of himself. He would make sure of that.

The ship was still streaking past the stars outside in hyperspace, as it continued on its journey towards the asteroid base. Serra was situated in her quarters, the one that had been so generously given to her by Bail Organa. They were on their way to an asteroid settlement in the Outer Rim. Serra had been told of the destination by the other Jedi, but she didn't know what to make of it. She hadn't participated in the discussion, and she was only told after the decision had already been made. She hadn't even heard of Polis Massa until today. She only hoped it wasn't some decrepit, run-down base where the Empire could easily track them. Serra sighed to herself. There was another thing on her mind.

She had kept her mind off certain matters during the battle, instead concentrating on the tide of clone troopers heading their way. The battle with the clones demanded her utmost attention, and neither she nor Anakin could afford to make the slightest mistake. Now that the adrenaline from the battle was wearing off, however, she found her mind turning towards the obvious subject in the room. Her Master's death had hit her hard. Cin Drallig was gone. He was never coming back. It had been so sudden, she didn't know what to think. It was like an explosion suddenly rocked the earth under her. He had died before he could reach her; before she could even respond to it. She didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. Serra felt her composure disappearing, as she pondered everything that had happened in the past several hours.

She started shaking all over. Serra was losing her composure. She tried and failed to contain the trembling that had taken hold over her entire body. She felt like she was on the verge of hyperventilating, and her body was no longer responding. Jedi were supposed to be detached. They weren't supposed to feel anything for anyone or anything. Why was this happening to her? She felt a lump in her throat, and was powerless to force it down. No…that wasn't right, she thought. She was a human being, not a machine. How was she supposed to feel nothing? She didn't understand what was happening to her, and she felt cold over her body, like an explosion of emotion had taken place inside her, and she was powerless to stem the torrent flowing through her consciousness. One thing was certain: her heart was crushed. She felt a devastating pain in her chest, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe, as she sat there in her isolated confusion. She was confused and distraught, and she was lost on what action to take, or where to go.

Anakin entered into her quarters. "We're all set for the current time. Bail's staff just entered the coordinates a while ago, and we're on our way to Polis Massa," he reported cheerfully, trying to put on some kind of positive front. The moment he saw her face, Anakin knew something was wrong. "Serra?" he asked questioningly.

Serra looked up at him. "A-Anakin?" she asked uncertainly.

He stared at her seriously. "Is everything all right?" he asked her gently, sensing that something was occurring. In all of the activity, he had forgotten about Serra's predicament, and what it had cost her. Sad to say, he wasn't close to Cin Drallig. The man was a jackass and an overly arrogant nuisance. But now he saw that it had been a mistake to ignore her; Serra's emotions were roiling in the Force, and it seemed like she was close to snapping. She looked like something had broken inside her, and she was trembling all over, visible in a subtle way even under her heavy robes. He could sense her confusion all the way in the hallway from the Force if he tried, and he wasn't sure how he had missed it before. It occurred to him that it was frightening, seeing her so vulnerable like this. Her cloak protected her from the cold of space, he reflected, but it could not protect her from her own feelings, it seemed.

"Anakin…Master Cin…he…I…" Serra was having trouble working her mouth. Her lip was trembling. She felt so confused and so distraught, she didn't know where to turn. It was like her world was revolving into a tailspin all around her, and she had no way of stopping the dizzying sensation. She was supposed to feel nothing, but how was she supposed to do that? She was supposed to let go, they told her to let go among the Jedi, but there was just no way she could bring herself to embrace that teaching. Not now; not in this moment. It felt like a part of her Force aura had been severed, and a piece of her soul was now missing. She decided to stand up from her seat, and she was torn about whether to pace around the room, or go running from the room, away from the distraught whirlwind of emotions she was feeling. She was left with a disturbing question. It played over and over in her mind like a message on an answering holocom, relentlessly torturing her with its persistence. Her shoulders were shaking, and she was having trouble controlling even her most basic emotions and responses. She was distraught and emotionally volatile, and she felt something had to give, because she couldn't go on like this for much longer.

Why…Master…?

Anakin looked at Serra, and he knew what she needed before she even voiced the request. He was about to say something, but she suddenly launched herself into his arms, taking him by surprise. He was caught off guard, but he recovered in a few moments, encircling her with his cloak covered arms. Serra began to cry in his arms, leaning her face against his uniform. Anakin wrapped his arms tightly around her, drawing her in close to give her the support she needed at this time. Serra sobbed harder against his chest, overwhelmed by emotion that was pouring out of her in waves. Anakin tucked the top of her head under his chin, holding her close as she mourned the man she had known for 20 years, and grown to love as a father. He had lost his mother, and it hurt like hell. The least he could do was offer her support.

Behind him, Padmé had appeared in the doorway. Anakin was cognizant of her presence, but he did not say anything. He turned around to face her, gave her a nod, and then turned back to holding Serra.

From the doorway, Padmé watched as her husband held the crying Jedi Knight, glad that Anakin finally had another Jedi to connect with. She could have been jealous, but Serra obviously needed him, and so she would push that potentially bothersome feeling to the side. They would need to rely on each other in the next few days, and perhaps for longer, if they were to survive this.

This was a good thing.

AN: The relationship between Anakin and Serra is not going to be a romantic one. Don't worry, Anakin's already got Padme. :-) Rather, it's going to be more like siblings. I see it as a little sister type of thing, kind of like what Sola and Anakin would have had, had she not screwed it up, although there Sola would have been the older sister, obviously.

R & R! - PH316