Apologies for any typos! Also, hold on tight. You've been warned. ;)


The Force felt… different. Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure, as he wasn't really an expert in the Force to begin with, but something seemed strange. It left him uneasy, filling him with energy and tension, making him feel on edge like he did back when he was leaving for Salkende with Siri the night Padmé had been shot. His immediate surroundings were quiet, peaceful, but something lurked in the distance, like an oncoming thunderstorm that was too far away to hear its roar.

Opening his eyes, Obi-Wan rubbed his face to wake himself some more. Perhaps he was just not focusing right – he had been sleeping most of the trip back to Ghanu'jivo after they'd won the battle in Tsograda. Éothen had gone to Salkende, had spoken to his worlds alongside his people, and the Alliance had left a few ships to help protect them until their own sector could step up.

This battle had barely been intense enough to be considered a battle, but Obi-Wan had spent the entirety of it in a ship, leaving him more rattled than if he'd been shot at on the ground. He had needed some space afterward, climbing to the hidden quarters upstairs to avoid both Qui-Gon and Al, and the twelve hour flight from the Tsograda Sector to Ghanu'jivo had been more than enough time to sleep considering he hadn't rested since Naboo. It also allowed him to stop worrying about what had just happened and start worrying about what was occurring with the rest of his family.

By now Anakin should have calmed considerably. Perhaps Siri had talked to him, convinced him to at least get close enough to the enclave to eat, sleep, bathe, and maybe, just maybe, see an actual physician. They hadn't addressed Anakin's injuries since they'd walked one hundred ninety kilometers through swampland and plains.

Blast that had been more exhausting than anything he'd ever done in his life.

Obi-Wan laid back down on one of the bunks in the upper room, allowing himself to slip into a hypothetical situation. Siri would convince Anakin to come get checked out by a physician, Padmé would visit to ensure he was alright, and the two would sort out their issues. Then Obi-Wan would return to a peaceful, content family with no problems whatsoever.

The Jedi Padawan snorted. Sometimes that Sith Code dictating peace is a lie seemed truer than it really needed to. He'd be lucky if Anakin could even be found in the forest let alone anywhere near the enclave or base. He'd be lucky if Padmé and Anakin had even spoken since their last conversation by the time he returned.

Well, there was no point in worrying about it now. Now he could just relax. He was alone and no one was trying to kill him at the moment. It was a pleasant change of events. He should take advantage of it.

"We're coming out of hyperspace in a minute!" Al called in a chipper manner over the intercom.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. Well, there went that idea. He supposed he shouldn't complain given that he'd had twelve hours to relax, but he'd spent most of them sleeping. Having some alone time while awake was a luxury he hadn't had in, well, months.

Time to get back to work, he thought. At least he'd caught up on sleep now. Mostly.

Rising, Obi-Wan slid down the ladder to the main level just as the hyperdrive disengaged. He didn't have to wait long before they'd entered the atmosphere and landed. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan silently made their way to the landing ramp as Al powered down the engines.

"I trust you slept well?" Qui-Gon inquired with a gentle smile.

Obi-Wan returned the sentiment with some wry humor. "Yes, it's strengthened me for the insanity to come."

Qui-Gon became surprisingly pensive, staring out at the scenery as the landing ramp lowered. "Yes… what's to come."

"Do you sense something?" Obi-Wan asked, feeling dread fill the pit of his stomach. He should've known that bad feeling he'd had earlier was legitimate.

"Something, yes, though it's unclear what that might be," Qui-Gon answered.

Obi-Wan took a deep, fortifying breath and followed the Jedi Master's gaze. He sensed Siri before seeing her appear into view as she trotted towards the Beauty. He felt a genuine smile grow and he disembarked in time to meet up with her at the bottom of the ramp.

"I'm glad you're alright," Siri remarked, her face glowing with relief.

Obi-Wan had to laugh. "Honestly, this battle was more of a vacation than anything else we've done lately."

"Well, you won't believe what happened while you were gone," Siri said, her tone strangely bemused, excited, and concerned at once.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's Anakin," Siri explained, and Obi-Wan immediately felt his own nervousness increase. What had Anakin done? "He said he was going to help."

Obi-Wan blinked. He… he did what? "What?!"

Where had this come from? This didn't make any sense. That boy had practically screamed he would never help the Alliance, and he was the most stubborn person Obi-Wan had ever met. What would make him turn like this?

There had to be more to this.

"He's talking to the councils right now," Siri continued. "Telling them about how to infiltrate Imperial Center during the coronation, to take Tarkin down, to take everyone down."

Obi-Wan didn't let Siri get another word in. He brushed by her, running towards the council chamber that had been retrofitted to be the main briefing room. He sensed Siri right behind him as they both practically left Al and Qui-Gon behind. This was too unbelievable. Obi-Wan knew he had left Anakin pondering, but… well…

Had it actually worked? This seemed too easy, too quick. Obi-Wan had never gotten through to Anakin without at least several days of hammering through that boy's thick skull. It was almost as if Anakin had a failsafe telling him to be as slow, confused, and puzzling as possible in order to completely baffle his enemies and friends.

His wife eventually caught up just before they reached the building. "So I guess I'm not the only one slightly confused about this turn of events."

No, you're not, Obi-Wan thought as they reached the briefing room. The lights inside were dimmed as Anakin stood at the center, motioning to a hologram in front of him. It was a map of Imperial Center's senate district, with certain pathways highlighted. He looked and felt eerily calm as he spoke, almost as if this were a regular mission, almost as if he were talking to Imperials instead. The room was packed and everyone was watching and listening intently. Obi-Wan saw Padmé in the corner and managed to wade through the crowd to reach her.

Padmé's face lit up as she saw him and she reached out and pulled him into a hug. Obi-Wan sensed happiness radiate from her.

"I'm so glad you're alright," she whispered into his chest.

Obi-Wan pat her back and then pulled away. "It wasn't that bad. But Padmé… what in the blazes is going on here?"

"Vader wants to help," she explained, her eyes glistening with tears. "I… I don't know what you said, but it got through to him."

Wants to help? But… this was just… this was too easy. Then again, Anakin had had his epiphanies in the past that had surprised Obi-Wan and Siri (such as hugging them in thanks for what they'd done), but… well. Maybe he was worrying too much.

But that feeling in the Force…

"You think I'm the one who convinced him?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

"I'd assumed you'd spoken to him after I'd left," Padmé replied, furrowing her brow slightly in confusion before she shook her head in dismissal. "It doesn't matter. It's genuine, Obi, I know it. He wants to help us, and this is an unbelievable opportunity for the Alliance."

"Perhaps so," Obi-Wan muttered, pulling away to watch Anakin carefully. He felt his stomach churn as he recalled Anakin's words and his own thoughts about everyone's priorities, especially Padmé's. Yes, this might be a great move for the Alliance, but… well…

If that were the case, then why the hell was Anakin doing it?!

"You're suggesting that we attack the heart of the Empire after we've nearly been pulverized? Our numbers are lower now than ever," a Rebel general said, snapping Obi-Wan out of his musings.

"This is an infiltration, not an invasion; your numbers are sufficient," Anakin replied smoothly. "And you will not find a better opportunity."

A rumble ran through the crowd. Bail spoke up. "The situation is alluring, but without a solid plan it's pointless to talk about. So do you have a plan?"

Anakin tipped his head in acknowledgement and then pressed a button, zooming the hologram onto the senate building itself. "All the VIPs will be in the senate building for the coronation ceremony. Security will be tight and fleets will be orbiting the planet. However, if we enter via separate shuttles, we can smuggle enough people on-world to create strike teams. I can design data spikes that will hack into the consoles and override security checkpoints, cutting power so Imperial Intelligence is blind to our activities. Several power stations run the senate building specifically; if you know the codes, as I do, you can easily get in. Using senate security consoles you can quietly lock the building down without tripping any alarms. If you do that, then all you have to do is incapacitate the VIPs inside and use them as hostages to have the fleets stand down. Then bring in your armada and wipe them out. You can end the war in a day."

"How do you suggest we incapacitate them? They'll have a veritable army inside that building," someone asked.

Here, someone else spoke up: a tan skinned woman with dark, determined eyes, thick black hair, and an aura of someone who dedicated their life to one sole purpose. The Force swam darkly around her, and Obi-Wan felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Notably, the woman was also pregnant.

"I can help with that," she said in a clipped Coruscanti accent. Obi-Wan wondered if this woman was the Imperial Al had smuggled off the capital to get information from Intelligence. "I'm a scientist. I know many compounds that can incapacitate a group of people, including airborne chemicals. There are a few odorless, tasteless gases that can knock out a building full of people."

"How do we get in without tripping alarms after they're incapacitated?"

"You don't. You already have people inside," Anakin answered.

"So they can get knocked out too?" a Jedi questioned suspiciously.

"These gases have reversal agents," Anakin shook his head. "That in combination with Jedi strength would be enough to overcome any effects. You would be immune, and you could simply wait for them to drop."

"Surely someone will notice," another officer noted. "If a security officer doesn't check in, if the security stations that you infiltrated have silent alarms… this isn't foolproof."

"That's why you have other teams to keep them busy."

"An attack? They'll send down an army!"

"Not an attack," Anakin again shook his head. "A distraction. Create blips in the system. They'll be monitoring more things than they're accustomed to – the crowds will be enormous. Divert attention from the senate building without creating a threat and they'll be distracted enough."

The room was silent as everyone pondered the issue. The Jedi shifted uneasily while the Rebel officers seemed anxious.

"This is a bold plan, Lord Vader," Bail commented, crossing his arms.

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "Bold is necessary. You won't have another opportunity like this one. Besides, your last proactive move eliminated the emperor himself. This isn't an entirely new situation for you."

"The coronation is in two days!" Gen. Dodonna argued. "How can we prepare for such a plan?"

"I can synthesize the compounds within a few hours, with the necessary chemicals," the scientist piped in once more.

One Jedi dissented. "This is too risky and too soon."

"He's right, though – we may not have another opportunity like this!" a councilman said frantically.

As the seconds ticked by, Obi-Wan noticed the dynamic switch, where the Jedi's previous restlessness filled the Rebels with excited nervous energy, and the Alliance's initial anxiety spilled into the Jedi. Though several masters voiced their concerns, it seemed the Alliance Council began to have a majority in favor of the plan. Without Master Shaak Ti around, the Jedi Council did not have the same clout, and eventually, they were drowned out with shouts from the Alliance officers.

"The majority has decided, then," Bail announced, though he himself did not sound happy about it. "We will follow this course of action. Capt. Andor, I will let you coordinate the mission with Lord Vader."

A man watching in the corner stood straight and nodded, taking several colleagues with him as he walked over to Anakin. Obi-Wan felt his stomach drop. This… wasn't good. This was too soon. This was… something was wrong.

Something was wrong.

Siri shuffled over to Obi-Wan. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "We can't do this."

"Hey, he's right – we don't really have a better opportunity," Siri argued mildly.

"Siri, this—this…" Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a calming breath.

His wife put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know the Jedi say to trust the Force. I'm not really convinced it's an actual thing with a will, but I do know there's something out there that's bigger than us with a will. So… just trust that."

"You never were a believer of the gods, were you?" Obi-Wan chuckled in exasperation.

Siri shrugged. "Their mythology sounds too… normal. They're just as bad as us. I don't really put trust in that. But if nothing else, trust the Alliance."

"Not Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked tiredly.

Siri looked away. "I… I trust him with my life."

Obi-Wan also looked away, following her gaze to Anakin, who was talking to the Rebel spies. "I do too. I trust him with our lives. I trust him with our daughter's life."

The couple watched in an uneasy silence as the unspoken sentiment filled the space between them.

They knew they could always depend on Anakin to help them. But the Alliance… Anakin hated the Alliance.

"Anakin is pretty rash," Siri commented. "This isn't exactly that out of character for him."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. There was no way they'd be able to convince anyone otherwise, and… he still wasn't entirely sure this… well… he didn't know. He just didn't know.

"Come on. I get the feeling we're going to get dragged into this," Siri said, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand. "Let's prepare."


Padmé felt giddy with so many emotions as she walked through the training grounds. She was still ecstatic Vader was finally willing to help, was finally on the same side as her. She was beyond relieved that Obi-Wan was okay. She was eager to complete the mission and simultaneously nervous about its success. And on top of all that… she was uncertain what would come next. She had worked so hard for so many years to take down the Empire that she had never considered what would happen once it actually came to pass. What would everyone do afterwards when the war was over?

Indulging herself, Padmé leaned against a tree and imagined a possible future. She would still be a senator, helping the Republic rebuild. Obi-Wan would likely happily retire from politics—poor thing had never been a fan of it anyway—and continue his training as a Jedi alongside Siri. Maybe Siri would remain a handmaiden? A Jedi handmaiden? Was that even a thing? Padmé chuckled; being a handmaiden in a time of peace would probably be too boring for Siri. Her family would happily be in Theed once more. And then Vader… what would become of Vader? Would he be at her side? Would they… could they…?

Blowing out a shaky breath, Padmé felt herself go weak at the thought of being together, of never having to worry about a war creating a chasm between them again. Twenty-four hours ago this would have seemed nearly impossible.

To think that everything she had gone through with Vader would culminate into this… into this. Vader was finally on her side. They were finally fighting the Empire together.

Laughing to herself, Padmé wiped a few tears away and noticed Vader himself wandering towards the edge of the area. A smile sprang to her lips before she could even register it, and she ran to meet him. "Vader!"

Vader turned, his stony face softening at the sight of her. Padmé didn't slow down even as she neared him, and noticed with great amusement as his eyes grew slightly wider in concern and confusion before he registered that she was about to slam into him. He started to adjust his footing to better handle the collision but Padmé beat him to it, tackling him in an enormous hug with a joyful laugh. They tumbled to the ground and rolled down a hill briefly, eventually stopping with Padmé partially laying atop him.

Both parties panted for air after being winded by the hit, gazing into each other's eyes. Vader looked startled before blushing and glancing beyond her face into the sky. Padmé chuckled and pulled away. "Where were you going?"

"Away from here."

Padmé rolled her eyes, swatting him on the shoulder playfully. "That's not very informative."

"I don't need to get more specific."

Instead of commenting on his statement, Padmé burst with everything she was feeling, shooting to her feet. "Vader, I'm just—I'm so happy you're finally by my side. I love you, and I never want this to change."

Vader watched her, slowly rising as well, his surprise fading into something somber. "I don't… I don't like change, either."

Padmé paused, even more overjoyed and surprised at what he said. "You recognize something you don't like?"

"Siri said things that came to mind first were typically what you wanted, so I assumed things that I don't want are things I don't like," Vader explained, shifting uneasily. "Is that right?"

Taking a deep breath, Padmé finally started to settle, smiling and nodding. "Yes, it is."

The couple stood in silence for a few seconds before Padmé took a step towards him, finally registering his words. "You don't like change… are you talking about this new situation? Helping the Alliance?"

Vader took a step away, immediately looking to the ground. Padmé filled the gap between them once more, putting her hand on his cheek.

"It's okay," she assured him softly as he stared at her hand in mild bewilderment. "You're doing the right thing."

"Is that why you do it?" he questioned quietly, pulling away from her touch but making eye contact with her.

"Yes," she answered firmly, lowering her hand. A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered doubt, worry, and she gave it some breath. "Why are you doing this?"

Vader examined her face carefully, his eyes filled with conviction, his stare intensifying until Padmé almost couldn't watch. "Because I love you."

Tears immediately stung her eyes again, and Padmé blurted out some mixture of laughter and crying as she hugged him so tightly she couldn't breathe. It felt good. All of it. This felt amazing.

Gods, she couldn't believe this was happening. Her world was filled with such happiness she didn't even know how to express it anymore.

Vader slowly but surely wrapped his arms around her in return, though the touch was far more timid than her death grip. It was only dawning on her now that this was the third time he'd hugged her since their reunion, and it made her even more cheerfully astonished. He'd come such a long way from the cold, emotionless, lost man she'd met on Imperial Center.

And he loved her. He loved her.

Gods, she truly never wanted this to end! It felt so freeing to finally be with him without any strings attached, without an engagement, an emperor, a war, plotting, emotional scarring, anything.

Eventually the moment had to end, and Vader was the one to do it, seemingly growing either uncomfortable or impatient with their position. Padmé didn't really mind – his hugs were rare, and she figured he still wasn't entirely comfortable or understanding of the gesture quite yet. As they pulled apart, her hip jostled against something metallic, and she looked down to see her shoto hanging on his belt.

Seeing the weapon reminded her. "I saw you using that earlier when you were sparring. You took it from Éothen."

"It's not his," Vader remarked coldly.

"No," Padmé agreed, stepping away and holding her hand out. "It's mine."

Vader furrowed his brow, obviously perplexed. "If you agree that it isn't his, then why did you give it to him?"

"I didn't," Padmé corrected him with a smile. Did he truly think so little of her that he assumed she would hand over something so precious? "I was trying to get it to Obi-Wan when I… well, when I thought I was going to die."

The change in subject brought a heaviness to both of them, one that darkened her spirits despite everything. They still hadn't quite resolved this issue, but now… maybe now she was truly ready to.

Except Vader changed the subject yet again. "I will relinquish it when this is over. It is yours by right, but I require it for now. The plans are being finalized, but I believe you will be going to Imperial Center alongside Obi-Wan and the pilot. Siri and I have been ordered to remain."

Padmé blinked a few times, trying to comprehend all the information thrown at her. She'd been thinking about everything that had occurred up to this point and the end result of a victory, but she hadn't honestly given much thought to the actual mission itself. Hearing that she would be a part of it made her happy, but she also began to grow nervous at the prospect. This was a hell of a mission. This was the mission. If they failed at this, the Alliance failed. If they succeeded, the war would be won.

This was their final stand. Their final hope. Their final chance. And she would be in the thick of it.

But Vader… "You're not coming?"

He shook his head.

"That's outrageous!" Padmé said, suddenly annoyed. "You're the one who came up with the plan. You would be critical in a mission like this!"

"I agree, but it's logical that they distrust me." Vader remarked, crossing his arms and looking away. His mood seemed slightly off, distant and pensive.

Padmé sighed, frustrated. "Yes, it is. Blast."

The two stood in silence for a moment before Padmé smiled, still enjoying his company despite everything. "Let's spar a bit, then. Get ready for what's to come."

Vader gazed at her, looking startled for a moment, his lips parted slightly, before his eyes brightened. He took a small breath and nodded, his body suddenly shaking with eager energy. Padmé had to chuckle at his excitement, and she took him by the hand, heading towards the forest. Vader's eagerness morphed into bewilderment as he slipped his hand out of hers before pausing, a realization hitting him, and reluctantly offering his hand back to her.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Padmé told him gently.

Vader furrowed his brow and shook his head, still holding his hand out for her to take. Padmé grasped it hesitantly, wondering what was confusing him now, but inevitably pushing it aside so they could go to the woods.

Both their cares and worries seemed to leave them the farther they got from the training grounds. The more the trees closed in, the freer she felt, and before she knew it they were both running side by side. Padmé smiled the entire way, glancing at Vader to see his face flushed and alight with eagerness.

Vader started to veer to the right, and Padmé followed his lead until they reached a large clearing. Both slowed to a halt, panting for air yet still filled with energy.

Padmé quickly moved to one side, raising one hand to protect her face and the other to protect her chest. Her fists balled tightly and she bounced lightly on her feet, watching him with anticipation. Vader stood still for a moment and then held out a hand, and Padmé grunted as an invisible wall slammed into her, knocking her to the ground.

Gasping, Padmé rolled to the side and pushed herself to her feet just as Vader came her way and got a clear hit to her jaw. Padmé groaned, falling to the ground but getting her bearings enough to swing a leg out in order to trip him. Vader hopped back to avoid the hit, giving Padmé time to get up a second time and regain her guard, spitting some blood from her now split lip. Blast that had hurt. Sparring wasn't supposed to get them beaten up.

Who was she kidding? This was Vader.

Taking the initiative, Padmé ran to him, giving a feint punch to the left. He raised his right hand, keeping his posture sturdy to deflect the supposed blow, leaving his other side open. Padmé jabbed quickly, landing a solid punch to his nose. Grunting, Vader stumbled back and kicked high, making Padmé stumble to avoid his foot, losing her footing entirely. Vader used the momentum from his kick and his stumbling to flip onto his hands and then feet, reorienting himself with energy stored in his knees to charge forward. Padmé met him halfway, letting him tackle her to the ground.

As he was on top of her getting ready to pin her with a chokehold, she grabbed for his waist, where her shoto had been dangling unused the entire time. It was likely he had chosen not to use it because Padmé wasn't armed, but she knew well enough that he already had the upper hand both in physical strength and the Force, so she was going to take every advantage she could get. Vader seemed to sense the maneuver, but he only had time to hastily pull away as Padmé activated the blade, listening to its distinct snap-hiss with satisfaction as a red glow illuminated the clearing.

Vader almost smiled. "Good move."

Padmé smirked back. "I know."

Vader's eyes narrowed, not in annoyance but almost in playfulness, and he bounced his knees for a second before charging towards her. Padmé swung the blade in a wide sweep to keep him at bay, but he caught her at the wrist with one hand and grabbed her arm with the other, twisting her so she flipped to the ground. The shoto deactivated as it rolled out of her grip, and an instant later it was active and at her neck.

"Now what are you going to do?" Vader asked, his voice light.

Padmé smiled and then gripped his hand to keep the blade away before kneeing him in the groin. Vader winced, his firm hold against her temporarily lightening, and Padmé shoved his chest away with both her feet.

Vader sighed as he steadied himself, suddenly put out. Padmé got to her feet. "What's wrong?"

Deactivating the shoto, he tossed it to her. "You don't know how to use it properly. If this were a true fight I would have killed you."

Padmé sighed. This was starting to sound like Varykino. "I'm not going to be fighting you."

The words suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth, and her stomach clenched as both of them shifted uncomfortably. She had said that then, too. And he… his reaction…

Blast. He'd known it wasn't going to last.

Shaking her head, she tried to rekindle the happiness that they'd had a few moments ago. "We'll just go again, then."

Vader shook his head. "There's no time. The coronation will be soon. You should return and learn your part, and then hone your skills. You're good with hand-to-hand combat and even better with a blaster. Enhance your strengths. We can worry about the shoto later."

Padmé felt her heart skip a beat. He knew there was going to be a later in all this insanity. That meant he was planning on sticking around after the mission. This really was happening.

"Vader…" she said shakily, giddy with joy, dizzy with excitement, shaking from nervousness. "When this is over… what will you do?"

Confusion and concern immediately danced across his face, and Vader took a minute step away from her.

"When we've won," Padmé clarified. "When the war is over, what will you do?"

Vader's emotions settled, and his gaze grew cool. "Hypothetical situations are irrelevant."

Hypothetical? "You don't think we'll win?"

"I know what will happen. What I do after is not important at the moment."

Padmé swallowed thickly. "It matters to some of us. I'm already planning."

"You shouldn't," he immediately said a little too loudly. "You don't know what the future holds."

"Yet you do?" she asked flippantly, a weak smile playing at her lips. She had wanted this to be a happy moment, but now it was starting to wear her down.

"I know enough."

Padmé sighed, looking away. "I… I see it including you. But I guess you don't."

"Elaborate," he prompted, looking a little unsettled.

Padmé grew gently amused at his confusion. "Vader… when this is all over, there will be peace. We'll all be free, including you. Where we go, what we do, who we're with… it's all up to us after this. And I… I want to be with you."

Vader's lips parted slightly as his eyes widened. He didn't seem to know what to say.

"I was just… wondering if you wanted to be with me too," she finally said, holding her breath.

Vader's brow furrowed, and he close his mouth, tipping his head slightly to one side. With a confused, stilted tone, he said, "I… I love you."

Padmé giggled, looking away. His love was so sincere. She needn't have asked, and they both knew it, hence his confusion. Then she took a step closer to him, her body shaking once more. "Then… be with me? Forever?"

Now he looked even more confused. "But people don't live forever."

Padmé outright laughed now. His naïveté was too much for her sometimes, especially in such an important moment as this one. "Darth Vader… will you marry me?"

Vader's mouth fell open, his eyebrows rising to his hairline.

Then he closed his mouth with a snap, his eyes still wide.

Then his eyes started to soften, his brow lowering, his face glowing with some inner warmth and emotion.

Then his mouth tightened, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped away, growing rigid. When he exhaled, his eyes opened, and his gaze and posture mirrored his old self: cold, distant, unfamiliar.

"I can't," he said.

Padmé felt her own mouth open, her eyes immediately stinging with tears. She couldn't breathe for a moment, the air having been punched out of her by his sound refusal. "W-what?"

She shook her head, also stepping away from him, hurt beyond words, her world crashing down around her. It was as if he'd shot her all over again.

Vader's cold demeanor melted upon seeing her reaction, but instead of apologizing or anything of the sort, he only mirrored her dejection.

Eventually, she found her voice, half whispering, "Why?"

Vader looked at his feet. "I… I never really gave much thought to marriage before. Never had a reason to. The governor was married, but he never saw his wife. Master wasn't married at all. It never mattered. It seemed more like some kind of contract for mutual gain, a means of investing in one another's affairs and possessions. But I… then I saw Obi-Wan and Siri. And marriage… marriage suddenly meant so much more. Suddenly it meant everything. They're more than partners. They love each other. They know each other. They trust each other. I just… can't."

Padmé stared at him, unable to speak. What was he saying? Vader looked her in the eye one last time, looking as sad as she felt, and shook his head. "I'm sorry."

He walked away.

The forest was silent. The air was still. Padmé stood like a stone, her heart somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach, her eyes freely letting tears leak out. Why… why would he say no?

Why would he say no? He loved her, and she loved him – they wanted to be together, or at least that was what she had assumed. Maybe she shouldn't have assumed anything. But Vader…

As the seconds ticked by, Padmé started to come back to reality, started to realize what had just happened, started to realize what she had truly asked of him. Of Darth Vader – a tormented man who was still learning how to understand what anger or sadness or happiness even meant, let alone what to do with those emotions.

Why had she asked?!

Padmé's tears continued to fall, but her emotions quickly turned from sadness to frustration. Vader loved her. That was a certainty. He hadn't said he wouldn't marry her, he'd said he couldn't. There was more to it. He was still confused, still too emotionally messed up, and here she was jumping the gun again and acting without thinking.

He had said no to the marriage proposal because they weren't ready. He knew they weren't ready for that kind of commitment.

But what did it mean to be ready for marriage? Padmé knew her parents would say there was never a point where one would feel ready. They just did it because they loved each other and knew each other enough to realize they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.

How did she know if she was being impatient or Vader was being stubborn? How did she know if now was the time for marriage? Maybe Vader thought she meant right now, when in actuality she meant sometime after the war had ended. Maybe he had no concept of engagement.

No, that wasn't right. She'd been engaged to Éothen for heaven's sake. Vader knew everything there was to know about marriage.

Well, maybe not quite. He'd said it himself – his knowledge of marriage was based on observing Palpatine and Tarkin. It was only recently that he'd witnessed marriage in its true form through Obi-Wan and Siri.

There were so many things happening all at once, and so much had been going her way. She'd just wanted to complete it. She'd been so overjoyed she'd wanted it to compound and felt ready to express everything she felt. Obviously Vader wasn't ready.

And that was the issue: it wasn't that they weren't ready – Vader wasn't ready. The fact that he wouldn't even let her call him by his actual name was testament to that.

Growling, she stormed back to the enclave, angry at herself that she had asked so soon because of excitement, that she had put Vader through that stress when he wasn't ready to handle it. The damage had been done; she would just wait until after the mission to talk to him again. Things would be… vastly different after that. And maybe, maybe she could actually act rationally and invite him to stay so they could be together, and he could become more comfortable with the idea of anything beyond that.

Looking at the enclave as she approached the edge of the forest, she took a deep breath, the wind stinging her eyes. They loved each other. The rest would fall into place. She just needed to make sure she didn't screw it up. She felt drained after the brief exchange, upset and disappointed. She could accept this. The poor man had been through so much and was still learning to be a human being; she could wait for him to be ready. She would wait.

Padmé glanced around, scanning the area for him. She wanted to at least apologize, explain that she was willing to wait as long as he needed. She wanted to fix this. However, he was nowhere in the immediate vicinity, and after roughly ten minutes of walking through the enclave to no avail, she paused by the residential quarters, even more exhausted. Maybe it was best she didn't find him; she was rushing again. She wanted to fix her mistake immediately, and sometimes people just needed time. She knew that from her work in politics… she didn't know why that knowledge didn't transfer to her relationships.

Shaking her head, Padmé told herself over and over it would be fine. It would. She just needed to let it settle. She needed to focus on the mission. Heading into the residential area, she decided to get a fresh outfit and speak to the Rebels about the plan.


The training grounds were strangely quiet considering all the hustle that had been going on earlier. The plans were set, and the strike teams would be leaving in an hour. All that was left now was waiting. Some people trained, others celebrated as if it were their last night, others rested, and others said their goodbyes.

Obi-Wan found himself walking alone, having left Siri to find Anakin. The two had already spoken of the mission to come, of the peril. They had decided it was best for their sanity's sake that they didn't speak of it any further. This one mission would decide the fate of the Alliance, of the Empire, of the galaxy. It was a heavy burden, and he… he wasn't sure he was ready for it. Obi-Wan had only just started his training as a Jedi, and though he was a good fighter already, he had never been in an operation like this. He'd been a spy, someone who could be subtle and speak his way through most problems, someone who could get out of a snag if it presented itself, but not someone who would be going headfirst into the danger. Sure, he'd fought in battles now, but those had honestly been defensive. Hoth, Ferrasco… he'd been holding off the enemy, not necessarily attacking them. The one time the Alliance had been on the offensive that he'd witnessed had been when they'd killed the emperor, and Obi-Wan had been on the sidelines for that. And this most recent battle in the Tsograda Sector had practically been a farce – the Empire hadn't expected anyone to retaliate after the sound thrashing they'd received. But this…

There were three strike teams: the senate team, the generator team, and the security team. The senate team consisted of the Jedi, who would sneak into the senate before the coronation began and plant the gas canisters in the ventilation system, waiting out the effects since they would be left immune due to the reversal agent provided by the Imperial turncoat, Rubar. The generator team was the group that would take the data spikes designed to override security stations and sabotage the necessary computers. They would sneak into the power station and the security station, cutting off power in certain parts of the senate building such as doorways in order to prevent the Imperials' escape while simultaneously cutting off automated security and ensuring Intelligence didn't catch wind of anything. The security team was backup to either party and protected their escape routes. The Rebel fleet would wait in the Expansion Region until they were sent the signal to attack – that would be after the VIPs were taken hostage in order to have leverage, otherwise the Imperial armada would annihilate them.

There was an unofficial fourth team that consisted of Al's compatriots in the criminal underworld on Imperial Center. They would cause minute distractions and headaches for Intelligence in order to keep them occupied during the entire operation. Between Bail's funds and the newfound income from Tsograda after Éothen had convinced the sector to assist, they had enough money to hire an army.

The teams would assemble at a rendezvous point in the Expansion Region, where the fleet would remain while the groups boarded smuggler ships. Al would take the generator team and two of his associates would take the others. Padmé was part of the security team. Siri would remain on Ghanu'jivo to keep an eye on Vader. And Obi-Wan…

Obi-Wan was leading one of the strike teams – the generator team. He didn't know what to make of it. He didn't know why he would be chosen. Surely there were so many more who had infinitely more experience? He knew all the Jedi were going to the senate building, so perhaps the Alliance thought they could spare one Padawan to lead a team, but… any other Padawan would be a better option. Obi-Wan was no warrior. He was barely a Jed for heaven's sake.

As he walked, Obi-Wan suddenly found himself distracted when he saw his baby sister sitting by the small stream that cut through the enclave, her arms crossed. She wore a light brown tunic over beige trousers with brown boots, and two leather straps crossed her chest. Her hair was pulled back into a braid. She was gazing into the water contemplatively, but a heavy sadness and worry knotted around her in the Force.

Growing concerned, Obi-Wan went to her. "Padmé?"

Padmé jumped slightly at hearing his voice and glanced up to meet his eyes. Before he could ask a second time, his sister spoke up. "I heard about the plan. You… are you okay?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I have to be, don't I?"

The two gazed off in silence, but Obi-Wan could tell there was more to this. "Padmé, what's wrong?"

"It's… nothing pertinent to the mission."

"Yet it still bothers you."

Padmé took a slow, tired breath. "I made a mistake."

Furrowing his brow, Obi-Wan moved to sit beside her. "About what?"

Padmé shifted slightly to give her brother some space, staring at the water. "I moved too quickly. I didn't think. Just more of the usual, I guess."

"What happened?"

Padmé sighed. "I proposed to Vader."

Obi-Wan blanched. "You what?"

"I know," Padmé immediately said as her brother gawked at her. "It's too soon."

Too soon was absolutely correct. Obi-Wan knew they both loved each other but they still had far too many issues to sort out before they could enter into that sort of commitment. For heaven's sake, Padmé had just gotten out of an engagement.

Besides, Obi-Wan shuddered to think if Anakin even knew about certain technical aspects of the partnership; with as naïve as that boy was, it was sometimes hard to tell what he did and didn't understand.

"Oh, Padmé," he sighed, exasperated and suddenly nervous at the same time. They were engaged… well… perhaps it wasn't a too big a concern. They could be engaged for a very long period of time and just sort out their issues before a marriage.

Before a marriage. That sounded entirely too final, too real. Obi-Wan knew they loved each other, but…

"He said he couldn't."

Obi-Wan stared at her, stunned yet again. Anakin said no?

"I guess I understand. It's not like he doesn't love me… I just think even he realizes he's not ready. It's too soon. I'm always too soon."

Obi-Wan watched his sister as her emotions eventually shifted from a weary sadness to frustration.

"I'm a stupid little girl who can do wonders in politics but screws up everything when it comes to her love life," Padmé moaned, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose.

Obi-Wan smiled gently. "Padmé, you don't have a love life. You don't have any life outside of your work. That's why you're terrible at it."

She rolled her eyes. "Like you're any better?"

"I spent my formative years in the service corps bonding with friends and helping others under the guidance of more experienced leaders," Obi-Wan noted with a raised eyebrow. "You became a queen of a planet."

Padmé sighed heavily. "You're never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?"

"I think you did wonderful things as queen," Obi-Wan said. "I'm not saying it was a mistake. I'm saying it's an explanation as to why you're struggling now."

His sister contemplated his words and then smiled sadly. "Yes… I suppose you're right. But it's time to stop using it as an excuse. I just wish I could remember to do so in the heat of the moment."

"It happens to us all," Obi-Wan assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You wouldn't imagine the things I've said to Siri sometimes."

"Obi, you're terrible at expressing yourself in general, let alone with a crush," Padmé laughed. "If Siri weren't as blunt and persistent as she is you two would have never gotten together."

Obi-Wan huffed mildly. "I am capable of taking the initiative."

"You seem to be, yes," Padmé said, suddenly sad again. "More than you used to be."

He detected the source of her sadness and felt similarly weary. The past few months had aged them greatly. "Time changes a person."

His sister leaned against him. "Change can be for the better."

Obi-Wan smiled. "It certainly is in his case. Siri says he needs therapy."

Padmé looked him in the eye. "She's right. He does."

"Well he won't accept that kind of help and you know it. Certainly not right now."

"No. Not now." Padmé agreed quietly, looking away once more. Then she sighed and stood. "Come on. We have a mission to accomplish. It's time to end this war."

Obi-Wan watched her for a second, feeling a chill run down his spine, though he wasn't sure why. Then he stood. "Yes, it is."

The pair walked together, heading for the civilian quarters to say their goodbyes to their family. The exchange was as brief as possible—both for their sanity's sake and for the sake of time—with reassurances to their parents and sister and quick hugs. Then they went to the training grounds where Siri awaited them.

Crossing her arms, Siri watched them approach before saying, "You two had better be kriffing careful. I've lost you enough times already."

Padmé and Siri immediately embraced, holding each other for a long while. Padmé felt herself shiver a bit, unnervingly reminded of the night she was shot, but this was entirely different. She wasn't awaiting an escort with which to flee… she was going on a mission to end the war. This wasn't a retreat. It was proactive. It was the end game. With Vader's plan and the Alliance's resources… it would work. They would win.

They had to.

The operation had been fully planned. Tsograda was rallying around Salkende, focusing on rebuilding their own sector, but the Alliance sent word of the attack and Tsograda sent weapons and basic supplies for Ghanu'jivo. With the boosted help they had enough tech and firepower to make an impact. The defector scientist, Aya Rubar, had created the compound and antidote for the Imperials and the Jedi, respectively. All the pieces were ready.

Everything was set. It was time to go.

Padmé and Siri released each other enough to look the other in the eye. Siri squeezed Padmé's forearms. Her eyes glistened with so many words and so many worries, but she couldn't voice them. Padmé felt her chest tighten, both from nerves and excitement. Eventually the friends let go, and Siri turned her attention to her husband.

"So this is it," Padmé heard her mutter to Obi-Wan.

"One can only hope," Obi-Wan replied.

"We have everything we need and everything planned. We're going to win this." Padmé told them, her voice quivering with conviction.

Siri smiled softly, pulling Obi-Wan to her in a gentle kiss. Padmé smiled and looked away, her gaze drifting towards the woods. Vader's words echoed in her mind. They love each other. They know each other. They trust each other. He loved her, and she loved him. Did he think she didn't know him at this point? Perhaps she didn't. Obviously massive mistakes had been made by both parties up to this point. Padmé knew it was too soon. She knew that. She wished she'd had more time up to this point. Everything was suddenly moving so fast.

Sighing, Padmé returned her attention to the couple as they pulled away from each other and gave each other an intense gaze, silently communicating everything they needed to. For the briefest moment she felt remorseful, wishing she had that kind of connection with Vader, and then she shook her head. Someday she would. She just needed to be patient.

Besides, she had something far more pressing to focus on right now.

Obi-Wan turned to leave, and Padmé followed, avoiding eye contact with her sister-in-law as the woman watched them go. They walked side by side in silence until they reached The Invariant Beauty, where Al and Qui-Gon waited. All the teams were being transported aboard the fleet to the rendezvous point, so for now, it was just them on the Beauty.

"I can't help but wonder if Master Ti is even aware of this," Obi-Wan said as they approached Qui-Gon. Padmé looked at the two curiously, not knowing who that Jedi was.

"The Council sent word, but they've heard nothing in response yet," Qui-Gon replied as Al headed up the landing ramp.

"Who is Master Ti?" Padmé asked as Qui-Gon followed Al.

"The leader of the Jedi Order," Obi-Wan answered, looking back at the training grounds with a worried expression. "The Council didn't exactly approve of this escapade, and seeing as she's the head… well, I don't know. I just hope she's aware. She was supposed to be getting possible reinforcements, after all."

Padmé put her hand on his shoulder, smiling fondly, recognizing this aspect of her brother. "It'll be fine, Obi. You worry too much."

"Don't I always," he sighed, finally boarding the ship. Padmé followed suit, and the ramp closed behind them.

The engines roared to life as soon as they'd entered the lounge, making both of them jump. The pair made their way to the sofa and strapped in beside Qui-Gon. The ship angled as it tore out of the atmosphere, making Obi-Wan grip the restraints a little. Eventually they steadied and everyone heard the distinct wail of the engines accelerating and the hyperdrive kicking in as the ship punched its way into hyperspace.

Al exited the cockpit. "Well. I guess this is it, then. We'll be there in an hour."

"I'm going to go meditate," Obi-Wan said softly, heading for the ladder. Qui-Gon smiled and followed him.

Al and Padmé watched them go before the smuggler rubbed his hands together nervously, glancing into the cockpit. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"I know," Padmé remarked almost to herself, a smile ghosting her lips. "It's too good to be true."

"Good? Good? I was thinking something like too terrifying to be true." Al retorted, crossing his arms. "Just when I think things can't get any crazier…"

Padmé had to chuckle at his behavior. "It'll be fine, Al. How could it possibly be any crazier than the stuff you've already seen and done? From what I've heard you were part of the armada that attacked Emperor Palpatine's fleet. Not to mention you escaped Hoth with Obi-Wan, Siri, and Vader, and you rescued me from Eriadu."

Al gestured dramatically. "Yeah, yeah, that was all insane too, but this? A direct attack on the Empire while it's at its strongest?"

"It's not at its strongest, it's at its weakest," Padmé reassured him. "That's why we're doing this. Not everyone is on board with the coronation; there are still outliers who refuse to fall in line. It makes them vulnerable."

"Yeah, but the ones who are falling in line are all on Imperial Center right now. That's at least half the Empire."

"This isn't a full frontal assault," Padmé said, trying a different argument to assure her friend. "It's an operation, not a battle. We know we're outnumbered, but they're not expecting us."

"That's because they crippled us!" Al ranted, flailing his arms in the air. "Do you have any idea how many people we lost after Hoth and Salkende fell? How many Jedi died killing Palpatine?"

"Al, they've planned this out thoroughly," Padmé said, taking a step towards him. "It'll be fine."

Al sighed heavily, rubbing a hand down his face. "That's what they always say."

"Why didn't you bring this up to the councils, then?"

Al grunted. "Yeah, that'll go well. The Alliance has a military, and what they say goes. It doesn't matter if you agree with it or not."

"The Alliance is not a dictatorship," Padmé argued, suddenly slightly annoyed by his tone.

"I know that," Al shook his head, appeasing her. "But just because it's not as terrible as the Empire doesn't mean it's innocent, either. I just… Padmé, I've got a really, really bad feeling about this."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "Al, when do you not have a bad feeling about something?"

"Plenty of times!" Al replied, sounding affronted. "Like when I go to the cantina. Or go to the refresher. Or go to sleep."

"Oh brother," Padmé laughed. "This isn't going to be easy, Al, but there's no reason to be downright paranoid."

"If you say so," Al said. He headed back to the cockpit, muttering under his breath, "Vader suddenly decides he wants to be a good guy and everybody throws a plan together in the span of a day to attack when all the Imperials are in one place and nobody bats an eye. Sure, I'm not being paranoid at all."

Padmé felt her gut clench hearing him. Al was a worrier, rather like Obi-Wan. There was reason to worry – this would be difficult. But… she shook her head. They would be fine. Vader had been changing for the better – it's not like this came out of nowhere. He loved her.

Is love really enough? A voice whispered in her mind, making her shudder. He loved you when he shot you.

"That was different," she muttered to herself, burying her face in her hands. Palpatine had always been controlling him, but now he was gone. Vader was free. Obi-Wan and Siri had ensured that.

Rubbing her face, Padmé stared at the floor. The whirlwind of emotions she'd been experiencing since her engagement had broken off was finally winding down, and it was leaving her both dizzy and unsettled. However, just because she was calmer didn't mean she needed to doubt everything that had happened. She shouldn't doubt him.

There were things she was certain of – the Alliance was right, she loved her family and Vader, and was loved in return by them… but the farther she got from Ghanu'jivo, the more uncomfortable she began to feel. Eventually, after what seemed an agonizing eternity in which she tried to debate the reasons why Vader was helping the Alliance, all the different ways he wanted to show he cared, she eventually admitted it:

She was worried too, and not just because of the mission that was to come.

Standing, Padmé ran a hand over her head and looked for Obi-Wan. Her brother had been with Vader far more recently than Padmé had, he'd helped him adjust and had seen him change. Obi-Wan would know the truth.

Climbing the ladder, Padmé sought out her brother and found him meditating in the hidden chamber above, sitting on the floor beside Qui-Gon. Both opened their eyes at her approach, looking at her expectantly.

"May I speak with you in private?" Padmé asked, directing her attention towards Obi-Wan.

Her brother nodded and stood, motioning beyond him to the large storage area that Al used for smuggling. She walked by Qui-Gon, giving him a smile as she went, and the two entered the compartment, closing the door behind them.

"What's wrong?" her brother asked softly.

"It's about Vader," she began.

"About marriage?" Obi-Wan surmised.

Padmé let out of a soft chuckle. "Actually, no. I think I've sorted out that issue in my head. It's… I know he wants to help. I know he does. I just… I need a second opinion on it."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "You were convinced at the briefing."

"I still am," she said a little shakily, not quite telling the truth. "Almost. I just…"

Shaking her head, she thought back to her conversation with Vader. He'd said he was helping because he loved her. Wasn't that reason enough?

Love hadn't been enough to help last time. Now that she was away from him, now that she was beginning to calm down and the reality of the situation was truly sinking in… she needed a second opinion.

"You talked to him, right? What did you say?" she asked.

Obi-Wan looked away, his eyes distant. "I told him that you had helped him when you thought he was lost. If he truly loved you, he would do the same."

Padmé furrowed her brow, confused. "He thinks I'm lost?"

Before Obi-Wan could reply, she remembered. It felt like a lifetime ago given everything that had happened since then, but in reality it only had been about a day. Vader had said she hadn't loved him. But… this…

This didn't make any sense.

Feeling dread fill her stomach, Padmé shook her head. "How… what did he say to you?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "He believed you were in the same situation he was in before – he believed you were a pawn of the Alliance, just as he was a pawn of Palpatine."

"He acknowledged that he was a pawn of Palpatine?" Padmé asked incredulously.

"I'm paraphrasing," Obi-Wan said, waving a dismissive hand. "The point is he thinks you're a slave to the cause."

"And you said that he should help me as I tried to help him?"

"As you did help him, yes."

"But…" Padmé tried to reason out, growing even more confused. "How would assisting the Alliance help me? I wouldn't aid Palpatine when the roles were supposedly reversed. And I'm not a slave to the cause."

Obi-Wan bit his cheek, turning away and stroking his beard.

Padmé grew slightly annoyed. "You think I am?"

"No," her brother immediately assured her. "But I know you're… a bit too enthusiastic at times."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing we haven't discussed before."

"About me being rash?"

"Something like that, yes."

Padmé narrowed her eyes. "There's more you're not telling me."

Obi-Wan took a step away from her, giving himself some air. "Padmé… why did you become queen? Senator?"

"Back to me being queen again?" Padmé asked, exasperated. He never really dropped that subject, did he?

"You were very young, you know."

"I'm aware of that," she acknowledged a little flatly. "Looking back sometimes it seems a little too young, but I did it for a good reason."

"What reason?"

"You know why, Obi."

"Tell me."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "To help Naboo, to help the people from the Empire. To make a difference."

"And why did you become a senator?"

"To help the Alliance," Padmé answered before staring at her brother incredulously. "You're saying I shouldn't have?"

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head. "I'm saying you, rather like Siri, have a tendency of throwing yourself into dangerous situations to save the universe without realizing something very important."

"What?"

"You can't save the universe," Obi-Wan said. "No one person can. Not alone."

"You are the one who joined the Alliance first," Padmé pointed out.

"Yes, I did. But that's the thing – I joined the Alliance. I didn't think I could save everyone from the Empire by myself. I knew that as a collective group we could make a difference."

"It's not like I'm a vigilante, you know," Padmé noted, confused by his argument.

"No, but you always place the responsibility of the cause solely on your shoulders. You are the one who went after Darth Vader when he was assigned to you. You are the one who took him to Naboo so Siri and I could work. You are the one who wanted to singlehandedly save him from Palpatine. You are the one who wanted to bring Salkende into the fold by selling yourself to Éothen."

"I was trying to help," Padmé stressed. "What would you have me do instead?"

"Perhaps not take such extreme measures for starters," Obi-Wan answered mildly with a small smile. "My point is you've always wanted to save the universe, and it… doesn't work that way. Anakin sees it too, and it's why he assumed you were just a pawn for the Alliance. Your devotion is vastly different from his, but in his mind that's how he understands things. He doesn't understand the concept of believing in a cause so powerfully that you would do anything for it. He understands devotion to people. So for him, your actions make no sense unless you're doing it under orders, unless you managed to strip yourself of feeling and just be, well, a droid."

A droid. A droid couldn't feel emotions. That was why he'd said she hadn't loved him.

Now Padmé was more confused than ever. "But… why would he help, then?"

"Because he adores you," Obi-Wan answered with a tone that was almost disbelieving, as if it were obvious.

"Well, yes, but…" Padmé acknowledged. Yes, she knew he loved her. So… he was doing what she'd done on Naboo? She'd initially been helping for the sake of it, but it morphed into love after a while. But she'd been trying to help Vader, not the Empire. "Why would he help the Alliance?"

Obi-Wan's expression darkened, filled with worry. "That's what I'm still trying to figure out."

The ship shuddered. The hyperdrive groaned and then faded into silence as the reverse thrusters roared to life.

They were at the rendezvous point.

Glancing at each other, Obi-Wan and Padmé exited the cargo bay in time to see Qui-Gon going down the ladder to the main level. They followed suit, and by the time they'd arrived they heard the ship enter the atmosphere of whatever world they were supposed to go to.

Entering the cockpit, Padmé asked, "So where are we?"

"Lysatra," Al answered. "Pretty unknown world and relatively uninhabited. There are cities but they're mainly in the tropical zone. Best put your jackets on, because this place is cold. Not Hoth cold, of course – I pick better places than the Rebels, after all."

Glancing through the viewports, Padmé saw a chain of rocky mountains bordering a beachfront. The sky was crisp and clear, and there were two freighters and multiple shuttles already awaiting them on the beach.

"Are those your associates?" Obi-Wan questioned, motioning to the freighters.

Al nodded. "Tyberus and Lastina. You won't find better criminals out there… and rarely will you find more expensive ones."

"Can they be trusted?" Obi-Wan asked.

Al wiggled back and forth in his seat as he landed the Beauty. "Eh. Lastina not so much. Tyberus is okay. Well… on second thought, not really, no. But they get the job done. Just don't trust them outside the job description."

"Fantastic," Obi-Wan muttered. "Why would you hire people you can't trust?"

"You can't trust any criminal," Al replied as the ship finally settled into the sand. "But Lastina and Tyberus are… special. They're in a caliber all their own. Even I'm not that good. Tyberus has been in the business since the Clone War, and Lastina has always done the riskiest jobs and succeeded. They're the best of the best, and that's what we need to get this done."

Al led everyone out of the cockpit. Padmé felt her stomach churn all the more, anxious and eager, worried and hopeful. She subtly grabbed her brother's hand, and he squeezed hers in return as they walked down the ramp together. The sunlight lit up their faces, making Padmé squint as a harsh ocean breeze blew chilly wind right through her. There was some sound of bustle as Rebels exited the shuttles and sorted themselves into their teams, but most of it was overpowered by the crashing of the waves.

There were two freighters immediately ahead of them, one on the left and one on the right. The left one was circular and looked like a Corellian design. In front of its landing ramp stood a Mirialan woman who had black triangular tattoos on her sea green cheeks. Her thick, curly black hair was tied in a bun, though some strands spilled into her face, blowing about in the wind. She leaned against the hydraulics of the ramp, arms crossed, smirking and quipping with some Jedi as they boarded, looking positively delighted with herself. The other ship, on the right, looked like a backwards star destroyer, triangular in shape and smaller in size than an actual destroyer but certainly not lacking in firepower. It had scorch marks and many of the plates sheathing the hull seemed to be stained different shades of grey, as if they'd been replaced multiple times over many years. A Human male sat on a crate beside the ramp, watching soldiers file onto his ship with cold steely blue eyes, chewing on something and saying nothing, his rugged face looking like it was carved from stone. He reminded Padmé strongly of Vader, though he was obviously older, with some grey hair mottling his dusty brown mane that whipped carelessly in the wind. So these were Al's compatriots.

"Lastina and Tyberus, I presume?" Padmé whispered to Al.

"Yep," he said softly as both smugglers took notice of him.

The Mirialan, Lastina, approached first, smiling slyly. "If it isn't my favorite smuggling buddy."

Al smiled back. "If it isn't the best singer in all of Gardulla's employ… and you ain't even one of her hired singers!"

Lastina laughed. "You can hear my luscious voice later, darling. I'm having way too much fun with the Jedi. I wonder how far you can bend them before they break…"

"Hey, be gentle with them," Al replied, slapping a hand on her shoulder before turning his attention to Tyberus, who had watched the exchange with mild interest. "Everything in order?"

Taking a small breath, Tyberus brushed against his coat, revealing two blasters at his hips as he crossed his arms nonchalantly. "Same old same old. At least it won't be boring."

"I'll say," Al muttered.

Lastina barked out yet another laugh, stroking Al's cheek. "You're not worried, are you? Don't you trust us to do our jobs?"

"I know you'll get everyone in just fine," Al remarked, pulling the other smuggler close by her belt. "It's after that point that gets me worried."

Padmé watched the exchange in slight exasperation.

Her brother voiced her thoughts. "Perhaps you can save the flirting for later?"

Lastina took notice of Obi-Wan and her eyes gave him a quick scan as she smirked. "Honey, flirting's on the house. Other perks come with more excitement, though. You're another Jedi, aren't you?"

"I won't be traveling with you," Obi-Wan quickly said, looking slightly flustered at the woman's attention.

Lastina puckered out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. "Aw, too bad. I don't bite that hard, unless you want me to."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and looked away. Tyberus interrupted the exchange, looking slightly amused. "I'm heading out in five minutes as planned. Let me know if you need anything, Brek."

Al nodded and watched the Human smuggler walk back to his ship. Then he looked at Padmé. "You're one of his passengers. Best get going."

Padmé jumped, startled, and then looked at Tyberus once more. She felt suddenly heavy, and she glanced at her brother. Obi-Wan was also watching the smuggler, and then he turned his attention to her. His eyes glittered with concern, his brow slightly furrowed, but then he sighed and looked at the sand for a few seconds, the wind blowing his hair in his face.

"Obi…" Padmé started, not sure what she would say.

Obi-Wan put his hands on her shoulders. "May the Force be with you."

Padmé watched him, feeling the finality in the words, sensing the love carried through them, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, her brother let go and took a step away. Al and Lastina had moved farther into the beach and away from the Beauty. She grabbed Obi-Wan's hand.

"May the Force be with you too," she said, squeezing as tightly as she could. "Be safe."

The siblings nodded to each other and then broke eye contact. Obi-Wan walked to Qui-Gon to discuss matters, and Padmé turned to face Tyberus' ship. Slowly, she walked away from her brother, away from the Beauty, and towards her destination. Towards the mission. Towards the end game.

This was it.

As Padmé neared the ramp, people started to pass her, boarding the ship as well. The security team. Her team. Faces brushed by in a blur, each as nondescript as the rest, but at one point her heart skipped a beat, and a flash of icy blue and golden brown caught her eye. Pausing, she looked around, convinced she had seen a familiar face, but in the end she was surrounded by strangers, all her comrades but none she knew by name. Tyberus had already boarded and the engines started to fire up. Jumping, Padmé finally climbed the ramp as sand was thrown into the air by the harsh wind created by the ship.

The landing ramp closed, and Padmé entered a seating area where everyone else was already strapping in. Taking a deep breath, she sat and buckled in, leaning her head back and closing her eyes as the ship rumbled around her.

"For the Alliance," she whispered under her breath, and the ground vanished beneath her feet.


It was quiet. Too quiet.

Siri sighed as she wandered the enclave. She'd figured walking might relieve some of her nervous energy, but the more she wandered, the emptier the place felt. So many people were gone – all who were left were essentially civilians, wounded, and some very young Padawans. Siri felt somewhat annoyed to be remaining on Ghanu'jivo as well, particularly in light of the fact that her husband, sister-in-law, and friend were all going to be in the heart of danger without her there to help, but she knew someone had to watch Anakin, and everyone used it as an excuse to keep Siri off the battlefield.

Her hand drifted to her belly, and she sensed her daughter's presence, taking some comfort in it. It was worth missing the action to keep her safe, but it was still frustrating. Obi-Wan was leading a strike team, Padmé was part of a strike team, Al was arranging all the criminal activity, and they were all in the heart of danger for the most important mission in the war's history. Siri was a woman of action, and here she was sitting on the sidelines worrying instead of actually doing something.

Well, she supposed babysitting Anakin gave her some purpose.

Anakin. Where was Anakin?

Her hand falling to her side, Siri tried reaching out through the Force. She didn't sense him distinctly, only trails of him, like a scent left behind for a tracker to follow. Walking to the edge of the enclave, Siri wandered into the forest, where she was most likely to find him.

Anakin's sudden desire to help had her feeling both hopeful and skeptical. She knew nothing that could have changed his mind on the matter, and the fact that Obi-Wan seemed equally concerned was not reassuring. Nevertheless, Anakin had made good points at the briefing – like their strike against Palpatine, this was critical, even if they hadn't had much time to plan it. Considering the small window of opportunity, they'd put together a fairly solid strategy, anyway – certainly more concrete a plan than the one against Palpatine, which had essentially consisted of rush in and attack as hard and fast as possible and hope to survive.

Anakin was a rash young man. He made decisions in a heartbeat, changed his mind in the next heartbeat, and then grew confused about the entire process immediately after that. Siri could see him doing this, she just couldn't see why. Perhaps she could talk to him about it when she found him… after she dragged him to a medical bay. With fewer people around, he might be willing to finally get some legitimate rest and treatment for his concussion, cracked ribs, and twisted ankle. They'd all seemingly forgotten about his injuries from Ferrasco given everything that had happened, but Siri still worried about him.

As the trees grew denser, Siri suddenly felt colder. Reaching for her lightsaber, she tried to shake the feeling that something was off, but she wasn't foolish enough to deny it altogether. She glanced around, all her senses alert. "Anakin? Sweetheart, where are you?"

Siri started to walk even more slowly, circling around as she did so to watch every angle. Anakin's presence was more notable here, but it didn't seem, well, immediate. It felt more like a heaviness than a current presence. She shook her head. She wasn't that good at tracking through the Force, so she couldn't be sure.

"Anakin?" she called out again, and then suddenly her ankle made contact with something cold and stiff but strangely soft. Gasping, she fought against the sudden shift in balance, but nevertheless fell. Immediately activating her lightsaber, Siri leapt to her feet once more and glanced around to see nothing. She looked down to see what she'd tripped over and gasped.

It was a body.

Trying to catch her breath, Siri looked around once more, reaching out into the Force, but she felt no threats nearby. Siri then crouched and held her blade over the corpse to examine it. The face looked vaguely familiar, and she felt immense relief at realizing it wasn't Anakin. It looked like a soldier… it… it was.

It was one of the soldiers that had been selected for the mission. He'd been part of the security strike team. Siri remembered seeing him when they were sorting out who would go where.

Her blood grew cold. Examining the body, Siri saw that the man had been stripped to his undergarments. With his chest exposed, she noted that there were no wounds. How had he died? He was cold and stiff – he'd obviously been dead for a while, but it couldn't have been too long; she'd seen him when they'd put the plan together a mere few hours ago. He must have been killed almost immediately after that. But… how? Why? Who had done it?

Eventually, Siri traced along the man's body to find some kind of wound, and her hand froze when it reached his neck, which in the light of her blade she could see was contorted in a manner it shouldn't have been. Someone had broken his neck, but there was no sign of a struggle. There hadn't been a fight. The man's neck had simply snapped. But what had he been doing out in the forest? Had he been killed here, or was he simply deposited here? And who had the skill to sneak up on a soldier and eliminate him in one fell swoop?

Her heart rate increased. Siri jumped away from the body, suddenly disturbed. Deactivating her blade, she ran back to the enclave to speak to the few Council members remaining. She had to tell them what she'd found. And then… she had to find Anakin.

"Please…" she whispered as she ran. "Please don't be doing anything stupid."


Imperial Intelligence was bustling more than she'd ever seen it. Consoles were crammed with Watchers, whispers from Minders hissed through the air like insects, and operatives of all sorts walked to and fro. A nervous energy filled the building as everyone prepared for the coronation, which was less than a day away.

Keeper watched everything from her office, where she had cameras that allowed her to see every centimeter of headquarters. She played with her hair, twirling it between her thumb and pointer finger, a small smile ghosting her lips. Everything was falling into place beautifully. She had faith that the pieces would play out against each other. She'd done her part. Intelligence had taught her well, and her brief time spent close to the emperor all those years ago had taught her more than she could have ever imagined.

A lifetime of work had led up to this. Sacrifice and duty had deprived her of everything, and now she would finally take it all back. The chaos would cease and the control would be absolute. In a sense, she'd already won; after all, whoever controlled Intelligence controlled the Empire, and in turn, the galaxy. But she was no fool. She knew she had loose ends to eliminate. But after everything she'd done, Keeper wouldn't have to do much more. Just wait and watch. And, for the first time in years, truly smile.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough. But she was patient. She'd waited almost her entire life for this. She could wait a little while longer.

Several precincts away, the palace felt colder than ever as Tarkin stood somewhere he hadn't been in what felt like an eternity.

Vader's quarters were left exactly as they had been when he'd departed for the last time over a month ago. A thin film of dust was beginning to coat everything. A data pad laid on the table between the sofas, still opened on files of information detailing tracking patterns of the Jedi fleet he'd eliminated. Tarkin's own pajamas sat in a pile where they'd been carelessly tossed after Vader had changed clothes the morning after his breakdown. The boy's bed was made, but there was an indentation in the mattress, with wrinkles in the covers, in the spot where he had sat when Tarkin had visited him the morning of their departure.

It looked almost like a ghost had sat there now, knowing everything that had happened since then. Tarkin could see the boy now, see him sitting there staring at his hands emptily, tiredly, stating that he was a danger, that he was faulty. Warning Tarkin that the emperor was always right, being lost for words when Tarkin proved him wrong. Sitting there, dejected, broken, but alive.

Tarkin reached for the blanket to smooth the wrinkles, but found that he couldn't do it. Instead he stared and felt emptiness fill him. The boy had died fighting Imperials, for whatever reason, unable to know that he hadn't lost everything he'd held dear. He'd died thinking he was a failure, he'd died thinking he was alone.

There was no point mourning his loss anymore. Tarkin's coronation was coming up. It was time for him to stop asking questions about the boy's death. It was time for him to move on. That was why he'd come here, why he'd decided to look through the boy's quarters one more time before he had them torn down.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he reached down and smoothed the blanket, feeling each individual wrinkle against his palm. It was like a stab to the heart with every touch, but the pain turned to rage. He would move on, yes, but he would not forget. He would never forget whose fault this truly was.

Keeper would pay. Tarkin would ensure she died painfully. As soon as he was made emperor, he would have her detained. He would send the entire military after her if he had to. She would be begging for mercy by the time he was through with her. He just had to wait for the coronation, and had to wait for Amidala to be eliminated. She was the one thing standing between him and Keeper.

Even then, his position would be enough to protect him. Once he was emperor, it might not matter if news about Amidala came out. All that mattered was that Keeper had to die for killing Vader.

Sighing, Tarkin backed away from the bed, staring at the pristine, unblemished blanket. Tomorrow. Vader would be avenged tomorrow. And in the meantime, the boy would get to take his own posthumous vengeance - after all, Tarkin had discovered Vader's research on the location of the Jedi base. A fleet had searched Wild Space to no avail, but they'd left probe droids, and now, finally, they'd gotten promising results.

Ghanu'jivo.

Vader would kill the Jedi, and Tarkin would kill Keeper. And then, finally, they could both be at peace.

Tarkin turned and left, promising himself to never look back.