Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its associated characters; they all belong to their respective owners. I only own any characters or plotlines that you do not recognize.

Foreword: The events of "Jedi Crash" and "Defenders of Peace" are mentioned in this chapter. They aren't getting their own chapters (as Elara is not present for this mission), but they are discussed fairly heavily.


39. The Bonds that Bind/"Storm Over Ryloth"

Coruscant, Inner Rim

The bruising around Elara's waist was an ugly mottled greenish yellow, and she winced a little as her fingers passed over the stretch of it on her stomach. They dragged a lightly perfumed, cooling lotion across it. Her under-tunic was tucked up around her waist, knotted beneath her chest to keep it from flopping down as she attempted to soothe the aching flesh.

"Dooku better watch out," Padmé snickered. She was reclined on her bed sideways, casually, with a beautiful wine glass perched in her hand. There was a smile splitting her face, bright and unbothered.

Elara arched an eyebrow and glanced up at her friend. She stood in front of the mirror Padmé sometimes lent her, though her back was turned to it. It had made it easier for her to throw a glance over her shoulder to see where she was spreading the lotion. "And why's that?" she asked.

"Well, from the way you keep grimacing, I'd imagine you might just go after him to seek revenge for bruising you," the senator quipped, bringing the wine glass to her cheekily quirked lips.

With a soundless, graceful snort, Elara smirked and spared a glance over her shoulder. She eyed the bruising on her back, which was a little lighter than what was on her front.

"I just might, actually. My belt sits just over this, it's very annoying." She tugged at the knot she'd made in her tunic until it came loose, and then tugged it back down over her torso. "If only bacta fixed bruising…"

"It makes you look daring. Maybe that's why that pirate took such a liking to you."

A bright laugh spilled from Elara's mouth as she turned to screw the cap back on the pastel purple jar the lotion came from. She slid it to the back of Padmé's vanity, then snatched up her own waiting glass of wine. Its stem was made of twisted, pale blue glass, the color of which elegantly bled up into the bowl of the vessel. Elara padded over to the bed and carefully sat herself down on its edge.

"He took a liking to me before we made our very daring escape attempts," she revealed. Elara scooted backwards until she could twist around and tuck her cross her legs comfortably. She winced a little as she slouched, relaxed, her bruised skin pinching and pulling.

Padmé beamed, the very tip of her tongue ever-so-slightly caught between her teeth. Even dressed casually she looked ethereal. What she'd said was 'just a nightgown' was a flowing masterpiece of lavender fabric and lush blue embroidery. A true testament to the fashions of Naboo, which Elara would forever be in awe of. But it wasn't a terrible complex garment, in comparison to the complex outfits she wore on a daily basis. It must feel like such a relief to wear something simple for once. For Elara, it was wonderful to shuck off her armor pieces, untuck her tunic, pull off her boots, and let down her hair. Jedi robes had never felt particularly constricting to her, even with all their layers. The armor, however, did get a little claustrophobic after a while.

"Was he really quite a flirt?" Padmé asked in a girlish hush. Elara's lips tilted into something of a smirk and promptly hid it in her glass. With a playful gasp, Padmé pushed herself up, the wine in her glass swaying dangerously. "He was!"

"Okay, yes, he was!" she laughed. "But he's a pirate, of course he's a flirt. They all are."

"Oh, I bet Anakin was horrified."

Elara snorted and nodded, unable to help but snicker at Anakin's expressions throughout the mission, often caught between horrified and disgusted. How there had been a handful of times that she'd worried he might deck Hondo just for calling her 'Pretty Jedi' one time too many. "He was! Oh, stars, he was."

Padmé hummed, a soft smile playing across her lips. She looked down at her hands, one of her thumbs caressing the curve of the wine glass. Elara watched something in her friend's expression shift. It was slight, almost impossibly so––but it was there. A tenderness. Visible only in the senator's eyes and the corners of her mouth. But it was there. It had Elara quirking her head curiously, eyes narrowing a hair upon her noticing it.

"He's very sweet," Padmé said.

"Yeah, he is. I don't know what I'd do without him, really," Elara admitted.

The blithe energy of the room settled a little at the admission. There was a seriousness to it. It was something that she'd never really admitted out loud to anyone that wasn't Anakin. She flashed her friend a smile and took a long sip from her glass. The wine was good. It came from Corellia, a gift to Padmé from a visiting dignitary. These moments, shared just between the two of them, were even rarer than the opportunities Elara got to wind down with the 442nd. But she treasured them just as much. It gave both herself and Padmé a chance to unwind wholly and completely, not have to worry about politics or war. And for as much as she loved her brother, Obi-Wan, and every member of the 442nd it was nice to have some time with someone who wasn't, well––male.

"And… how did Obi-Wan react?" Padmé asked.

Elara's eyebrows lifted and she hummed into her glass. Once she pulled the glass away from her mouth, she tilted her head inquiringly. "React to what?"

For a moment, all Padmé did was stare at her. Then, with a little laugh, she scooted a little closer. She leaned in closer, the plush mattress shifting beneath the change of weight distribution.

"The flirting," she clarified.

"I… don't think he reacted much at all." Elara shrugged, making it clear that was all she thought about the situation. A flash of skepticism washed over Padmé's face, and when she clocked it, Elara clucked her tongue. "Anakin has a reason to be… distressed by all the spewed flattery. He's my brother. But, Obi-Wan, he's…" she trailed off, mouth hanging open wordlessly. She lifted a hand like the gesture might help, but it didn't, and she sighed. "He didn't react."

Her stomach cramped a little at the thought that Obi-Wan didn't have a reason to have reacted, other than the fact he was her comrade and her friend. He might've been a little more tense than normal, but she'd just ascribed that to his general annoyance with the pirate's flippancy. Not because he'd felt uncomfortable with what Hondo had been saying, not because the words got under his skin and burned there for… what? Jealousy? The word had the wine in Elara's stomach curdling slightly. Did she want Obi-Wan to have been jealous? To have hated every charmed word Hondo spoke because he wanted to say such things instead? The thought startled her so badly that she downed what was left of her wine, and then stood to go get more. Padmé watched her go with what could only be described as something akin to wistful. Like she wished there was more she could say or ask about the situation.

Elara picked the wine bottle up off the vanity and tilted its contents into her waiting glass. Her thoughts were now drawn to the memory of waking up cuddled into Obi-Wan's neck. How warm his skin had been beneath her lips, how intoxicating that feeling was. How her more conscious mind longed to press her lips against his throat again, to be able to savor it. Heat flared to her cheeks, staining them a flushed pink. She might be able to pass it off as effects of the wine. She hoped she could. But Padmé was perceptive, and this was only her second glass. For a moment, Elara entertained the idea of, perhaps… telling Padmé what had happened, just to get it off her chest. To be able to discuss it instead of internalize. But the idea was swiftly cast aside when she recalled the thrill of panic she'd felt when Dooku had revealed he'd seen them. One person was enough. It was best to keep this tucked close to her chest.

Once Elara had poured her fill––and cleared her head––she turned to face Padmé and raised the bottle questioningly. When she got a smile and a nod in response, she crossed the room to refill Padmé's glass.

"I told the Council about the bounty," she revealed.

Padmé sat a little straighter at this. She, too, had been thrown for a loop upon being told that Elara––of all people––had a bounty on her head. She'd immediately launched into a series of questions, and posed potential solutions like the good politician she was. This had happened shortly after they're arrival back on Coruscant, and Elara had yet to decide what her own course of action would be about the situation. Telling the Council had seemed like the best idea. It didn't seem like the type of information she should keep to herself; that, and if she didn't tell them, either Anakin or Obi-Wan certainly would.

"What did they say?" Padmé asked.

"They were equally as perturbed by the situation as I was." Elara gingerly placed the bottle on the bed stand, her thumb whisking away a drop off from the neck of it. She dashed it off against her pant leg. "They said that the issue will be looked into. They're going to scour the holonet and various databases to see if they can track down the source. They've asked that I keep thinking on who might've been the one to place it, too. Until then… I'm to continue on as normal."

For a moment, Padmé was quiet. Her brows had knit themselves together, her mouth hanging gently agape, and her hands sat in her lap, clasped around the bell of her glass. And then she laughed––a breathy, disbelieving laugh.

"Continue on as normal? There's a bounty on your head, surely it isn't safe to send you… galavanting across the galaxy. It's ludicrous," she pointed out. Her tone had shifted into something more senatorial, the kind of voice she used when addressing a fellow diplomat. It betrayed her displeasure with the Council's response.

Elara pad over to the window and peered through its open slats. It was nighttime, and the world was once again flickering with brilliant displays of light. For a moment, she allowed herself to wonder if this was the window Obi-Wan had hurled himself through some seven months ago. Then her shoulders rose in an almost indifferent shrug.

"The Jedi are already spread thin as it is, we can't spare anyone."

"You're… one of the Chosen Ones––"

That caused the Jedi to make a sound in the back of her throat, one of her hands flapping through the air. "I don't think that matters. They still let Anakin crash any number of ships he gets his hands on, so…" Elara shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Besides… at the risk of not sounding humble… I am a Jedi. I imagine that your every-day bounty hunter isn't going to risk their lives for a single payday on such a difficult target," she reasoned.

"But what if someone does? What if someone, like those pirates, decides to take that risk?" Padmé rose from her spot on the bed and went to join Elara at the window. Her face was alight with concern.

A slightly crooked smile pulled across Elara's face. "Then, perhaps, I'll be one step closer to discovering who it is that wants me so badly."

With a very unamused shift in expression, Padmé carefully folded her arms over her chest, wine glass still clutched in one hand. "This is one of those moments where your relation to Anakin is undeniable…" That caused Elara to snort and hide an amused look in her drink. After a quiet moment, Padmé spoke again. "Do you have any thoughts on who's looking for you?"

"No. I wish I did." Elara then laughed, small and a little rueful. "It's funny, how as you grow older you realize what the true price of peace is. That in fighting for it, you disrupt the peace of your own life. I've never been foolish enough to say there were no consequences in what I've done as a Jedi… That being said, is it terrible that I had never considered having… enemies? Aside from the obvious, of course––Dooku and the Separatists, the Sith… but personal enemies?" She shook her head, lips grimacing. "Hondo had told me that for every being I have saved, there is one left scorned. Which means that the list of enemies I have created is so vast, that I wouldn't know where to start looking for the one who's searching for me."

The idea of having a personal enemy, one who wanted to track her down and only her felt like something out of a story. The ones that spread across cantinas like wildfire, the ones that kids acted out in their free time. It didn't feel particularly real. She'd not even counted Dooku as a 'personal enemy,' just a nuisance that got on her nerves anytime he was thrust back into her life. So it all felt a little outlandish. But it was now something she had to seriously contemplate, despite its strangeness.

A comforting warmth appeared at Elara's elbow. She looked down to see Padmé's hand gently placed there; it then slid its way around and down to her forearm, linking their arms together.

"I hope it's resolved, soon," Padmé confided. "This galaxy would be remiss if it lost one of its best Jedi."

Elara smiled over at her friend and nodded appreciatively. Padmé returned the smile with ease. These moments between them were few and far between, but they were so precious. They were one of the sweetest reprieves from the war. They filled Elara with the hope that, once this war ended, once the horror and tragedy ceased, there would be more of them. That one day, she could sit down and enjoy an evening with her friend, without any threats looming over their heads.

OOOO

Elara, freshly returned from a mission that had dragged her and her men––literally––through the dirt, was ready to rest. Stand in the refresher until the warm water soothed her aching muscles, face-plant into her bed, and immediately fall asleep. Then maybe she'd indulge in a cup of tea when she woke up. Those plans, however, were immediately put on hold as she started to pass the Uneti courtyard. Sitting on the steps before the tree was Ahsoka, chin resting in her palms, elbows braced on her knees. Even from a distance something seemed wrong. So Elara rerouted her path and stepped into the courtyard. Peeling off her dirty armor could wait.

The courtyard was quiet, bathed in the warmth of the afternoon sun. A slight breeze tickled the branches of the Uneti tree, which shivered and fluttered in it. It was peaceful. A good spot to stop and think. To unwind. Elara announced her presence quietly, doing so by stepping down to the step that Ahsoka had perched herself on. When the padawan looked up, she startled a little.

"Master Skywalker," she greeted, a little surprised.

Elara smiled. "Ahsoka." She gestured to the stair. "May I?" Once she received a nod, Elara plopped down, a long, relieved breath pulling out of her mouth. She draped her arms overtop her knees and squinted up at the top branches of the tree. They continued to gently dance, silhouetted against the sky. And it was quiet again. No sound but the distant hum of speeder traffic and the slight rustling of leaves filled the air. Then, after a moment, Elara said, "I come here to think, too."

Ahsoka sighed, her hands lifting to press against her face. When they dropped away, they bared an expression that was both troubled and tired. It twisted at the young woman's lips, pulling them into a very uncharacteristic frown. She hugged her arms into her chest, wrapping them around herself as she hunched forward a little.

"Master… can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Of course."

"What… are your views on attachments?"

The question was wholly unexpected. It struck Elara like a blow to the stomach, leaving the air knocked from her lungs. It wasn't a simple inquiry with an equally simple answer. Everything about it was loaded. Because every Jedi had a differing opinion on the matter. They were influenced by who their Master was, what they'd experienced in their lives, and their own attitudes and philosophies. Her answer would be different to Anakin's, which would be different from Obi-Wan's, which would be different to Qui-Gon's. There was no black-and-white answer to it, no matter what the Council led them all to believe.

"Can I ask… what brought this question on?" Elara asked. She was stalling, and she knew it. Her views on the matter were still being honed and challenged; she needed a moment to figure out how she was going to go about answering this.

"Master Aayla said I needed to be wary of my attachment to Master Skywalker. On the last mission we were on , he got hurt––" she cut herself off and sat a little straighter, and turned to Elara, wide-eyed, "––he's okay, now, though! But… we needed to get him help, and I wanted to stay with him. But Master Aayla told me to go with her, so I did, and then… she told me that Jedi don't form attachments, that I'll have to learn to let go of my Master eventually. But we're supposed to be compassionate, aren't we? How can you be compassionate and not form attachments?"

Elara was quiet a moment, aware of Ahsoka's intent gaze boring into the side of her head. There was no easy way to go about this conversation. No simple terms. No black-and-white solution. So, with a deep breath, she launched herself headfirst into it. Because for as confused as Ahsoka was about it, she was just as scared of it.

"Well… the Code does dictate that we, as Jedi, are not meant to form attachments, but… it's not as cut-and-dry as we're made to believe. No one Jedi has the same view on it as another. Some take it to heart and form no attachments, even with their Jedi brethren. Others take it in stride and find their interpretation of it. You, in time, will come to figure out what that rule means to you," she explained.

Ahsoka cocked her head to the side, curiously, and scooted a little closer to the Jedi Knight. "What does it mean to you?"

With pursed lips, Elara turned her eyes to the Uneti tree. It stood ancient and steadfast, with all the resoluteness that she wished she had. She allowed its calm, balanced energy to wash over her, ease her frazzled nerves and slow the frantic tattoo of her heart.

"I think that we're predisposed to forming attachments," she said softly. "We're meant to care for the galaxy to the degree that we'd do anything to protect it. That, in itself, is an attachment. It's no wonder we form them… it's natural for us to do so. But it's how you handle them that matters. If they become… possessive, selfish they become dangerous." She forced a smile across her face and turned it on Ahsoka. "But that's just me, don't take it as gospel." Despite their talk, the offered words, the padawan still seemed troubled. So Elara rose to her feet with a groan and offered her a hand. "Would you like a cup of tea, Ahsoka?"

For the first time since she'd spotted her in the courtyard, Ahsoka smiled. It was small, but it was there. She nodded and placed her hand in Elara's gloved one. "Tea sounds nice."

"I've got a lovely blend from Gleann you might like," she said, helping pull the young woman to her feet. "And over it, you can tell me what it was Anakin did to get himself hurt."

"And you can tell me why you're so dirty?"

Elara laughed and looked over at her pauldron. The symbol of the Republic could barely be seen beneath the smears of dirt and dried mud. "Yes, I can; and, believe it or not, I'm not the worst off. You'd have to go to Blinker for that."

As they both meandered their way back inside, Elara couldn't help but feel a little spark of guilt in her stomach. She was, perhaps, the least qualified person to have answered Ahsoka's inquiry. Because she was so desperately fighting not to shatter the Code for want of an attachment. One that would not only destroy her but him as well. It wasn't that she just wanted press kisses across his cheeks, drag her lips along the column of his throat, and explore whatever amount of skin he'd let her––she longed for the connection of it. The way that their eyes met, their secret smiles, the way her heart fluttered at his smile. She wanted to be lost in the emotions and the feelings of it. And all of it was building up inside her so rapidly that Elara feared that she might burst at any given moment. Because she wanted, so badly, to love him as hard as she possibly could.

And if that wasn't a biased opinion, Elara didn't know what was.

OOOO

The Emissary, Outer Rim Territories

The tides of war never seemed to stop turning. The minute one planet was liberated, another was viciously seized. And though this had been what Ack-Ack had been born to do, it never got easier to witness. The newest planet to be gripped by the Separatists was Ryloth. It was a planet in the Outer Rim Territories, in the Gaulus Sector, at the coordinate R-7. It was the home planet of the Twi'leks, and their major export was the rare ore known as ryll. And the bastard Separatists had gone and occupied the planet with their clankers, put up a blockade, and were starving out the native Rylothians. The whole damn thing stank of the same stuff Christophsis had. It turned Ack-Ack's stomach to think that they were going to have to do it all again. But he'd do it. They all would. Because there was no way any member of the 442nd was going to let those Twi'leks suffer the way the Christophsians had.

There was a whistling beep, which drew Ack-Ack's attention to the holotable on the ship's bridge. A small red light flashed insistently, indicating an incoming transmission. It was coming from the Resolute, General Skywalker's flagship––or, rather, General Anakin Skywalker's flagship. The General––his General––had mentioned something about calling him 'Skyguy,' and though the lads had taken to it, Ack-Ack had been unable to bring himself to do so. But, regardless of name, the younger of the General Skywalkers had been in charge of confronting and breaking the blockade. It would allow the elder General Skywalker and General Kenobi to lead their ground assaults. This was, hopefully, his call to say that he'd succeeded.

But, in having known Anakin Skywalker for a little over a year, now, Ack-Ack was sure he'd snagged an obstacle of some kind.

"General," he hailed. Elara turned from where she'd been reading the tactical board, her eyebrows gently railed. "There's a transmission from the Resolute, sir."

There was a faint flash of relief that sprinted through her eyes. It was a look Ack-Ack recognized, not only because he'd seen it on her before, but because he'd felt it himself. The relief that her brother was, likely, safe. Elara stepped up to the holotable, reaching out to touch his arm in quiet thanks. He nodded and pressed the proper button to let the transmission through. When it did, three holographic figures appeared around the table––those of Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Anakin Skywalker. The latter appeared unharmed, but there was a troubling frown marring his lips.

"Skywalker," greeted Windu in his typically terse manner. "Have you broken the blockade?"

There was a staticky sigh, accompanied by a shake of Anakin's head. "No. I'm afraid there was an… incident."

"Of what kind?" Elara asked. She clasped her hands at the small of her back, and Ack-Ack noted how her fingers drummed against her wrist. It was something she did when she was anxious, he'd come to realize.

"I let Ahsoka take the lead on this one. Had her lead a squadron for an initial assault, but four more frigates jumped out of hyperspace and surprised us. I ordered her back, but she didn't listen… we suffered significant losses," Anakin explained. "They caught us by surprise, Master. We were outnumbered."

Ack-Ack felt his breath catch in his throat. It never got easier, hearing the casualty reports. Even if he didn't know the clones by name, they were still his brothers, and each loss still burned hot and painful. But it caught for another reason, too––the mention of Ahsoka. She was a good kid. A little foolhardy at times, sure, but good. If she'd been amongst those significant losses, it would be a damn shame. As he'd taken a step back from the table as the call began, he was able to watch as Elara's shoulders tensed. She, too, must've feared for Ahsoka's well being. He expected nothing less from his kind hearted General.

"How many men did you lose?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"We lost a cruiser, the Redeemer, plus an entire squadron of fighters."

"What of Ahsoka?" Elara asked. Though her tone was even and what one might consider indifferent, Ack-Ack knew that she wasn't.

Anakin's hologram shook his head, his expression lightening for the first time since the call had started. "No, uh, Ahsoka is fine. She's just recovering from the battle," Anakin assured. "Losing her squadron was hard to take."

Elara visibly relaxed, and the tapping of her fingers stopped.

"Give her time, but, Anakin, you will need her help if you're going to get through this," Obi-Wan reminded.

"I know." For a moment, the General almost looked a little sheepish. Like he'd done or said something that warranted Obi-Wan's comment about patience.

"Your forces have been cut in half, Skywalker. If you can't break that blockade before the next planetary rotation, we will have to postpone the invasion," Windu informed.

The idea of postponing the invasion didn't sit right with Ack-Ack. They'd arrived on Christophsis just in time. They'd been on the planet's surface when the invasion occurred. They'd been able to stave off Separatist forces for longer than what the Christophsians would've been able to do alone. But the Rylothians––they'd been alone. They were still alone. Stars knew what the Techno Union had done to them; and what they would do to them if they didn't get there soon. Ack-Ack clenched his fingers, curling them into tight fists at his sides. It was times like this he had to clench his teeth or bite his tongue. He'd done his out-of-turn talking when he was in training. Now wasn't the time; especially when he'd be in opposition of one of the most revered Jedi on the Council.

"The Twi'leks on that planet can't wait forever, Master. The longer the Techno Union keeps control of Ryloth, the more difficult it will be to free them," Anakin contested.

"I agree," Windu conceded. "We don't have much time."

After letting the agreement hang in the air, Windu and Kenobi's holograms disappeared. Anakin's remained. His expression was tense and, after a moment, he sighed and leaned forward, his hands appearing to grasp the edge of the holotable.

"You can do this, Anakin," Elara encouraged gently. Gone was the business-like tone, and in its place was the warm, loving tone of an older sister. Her hands dropped away from behind her back. "Give Ahsoka a chance to resk. Encourage her. We all remember what it's like to lose our men for the first time. It's important that she knows that we've felt what she's feeling now."

Anakin nodded, his lips curving slightly upwards at the corners. "Still can't believe you don't think you're fit for a padawan…" he muttered. He straightened up and nodded, shoulders squaring in self-imposed confidence. "Thanks, Lari. I'll see you soon."

"I believe in you, Ani. May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you."

Elara reached down and pressed a button, and Anakin's hologram flickered out of existence. She lingered there a moment, and then she turned to face Ack-Ack. There was a contemplative furrow to her brows, and her lips were pursed.

"What do you make of the possibility of postponing the invasion?" she asked.

Ack-Ack's eyes dropped to the floor momentarily, as he mulled over how to respond. Truthful or restrained. Elara was his superior officer, but she was a considerate one. He'd come to realize that she appreciated candidness, and, quite honestly, encouraged it. Transparency was important; secrets could kill. So when he lifted his eyes again, Ack-Ack lifted his chin as he met her gaze.

"May I be frank, sir?" he asked.

Elara gestured to him with a sweep of her hand. "Please, Captain."

"I don't like it one bit. The whole thing reeks like Christophsis, and we barely made it out of there with the skin of our teeth. But we were there for them from the start. The longer we wait, the more likely the outcome'll be grim," he told her.

"My thoughts exactly," Elara agreed.

"But… I have confidence that General Skywalker will breach the blockade. Given his… methods, I think that we'll succeed in reaching the surface of Ryloth. My only concern is when."

A smile split across her face at the mention of her brother's 'methods'––which were more hair-brained schemes than anything. And that smile was a nice thing to see; it got the corners of Ack-Ack's mouth lifting, too. It hadn't made many appearances in recent days, which was unusual. Elara was a woman of many smiles. Confident, reassuring, sympathetic, melancholy, exhausted, angered, frustrated, sad, elated, amused. While she was a steadfast commanding officer, she was a genuine person. So when those fearless smiles waned, when they were offered more sparingly, Ack-Ack got concerned. He feared that something had happened. What, exactly, he didn't know. But something had changed; and it wasn't for the better. He'd wanted to ask if anything was wrong––but was unsure if it was his place to do so.

It was something he might've ascribed to the fact she'd somehow accrued a bounty; but the smiles had been fading long before that. Though, the bounty was something else that he worried about, too. There wasn't a doubt in Ack-Ack's mind that Elara couldn't deal with it. But everything surrounding it was still so hazy and mysterious. There was no saying when the situation was going to rear its head. Many of the lads'd had a good laugh when the news of the bounty had spread around––Elara Skywalker, their kind-hearted General, had a bounty of half a million credits on her head? It seems ludicrous! And yet, underneath the amusement, the laughter, and the joking, there was worry. Each man in the 442nd respected General Skywalker. And they'd be damned if she got hurt on their watch.

What Ack-Ack feared most, however, was that the war had started to take its dreadful toll on the brightness of Elara's being. That it had broken her so thoroughly that she'd one day stop smiling altogether. And if she lost it for good, it would be a damn shame.

"We best be on standby, I want to be in hyperspace the minute we get the all-clear," she decided. The lingering remnants of a smile still clung to her lips as she gave the order. The men had taken to calling her 'the Gentle General'; it was a fond moniker, and one that suited her well.

"Yes, sir. I'll go tell the lads."

"Thank you, Acks."

Ack-Ack bobbed his head and then moved to take his leave. Just before he exited, however, he cast a look over his shoulder. Elara had moved back to the tactical boards. They were transparent for the most part, save for the sweeping illuminated blue lines, so that meant he could see her face. It had sunk back into the furrowed expression that had replaced the smiles. Ack-Ack frowned to himself. Maybe it was his place to ask. He was her right-hand, after all. He was the one at her side through the thick and thin of battle. He was her friend. She was his family. Whatever bothered Elara, bothered him. He would ask her, Ack-Ack resolved. But the moment to ask had to be opportune––and this wasn't one of them. They were planning an invasion, and whatever it was that was hampering her brightness had yet to disrupt her work ethic. So, with his frown still firmly settled on his face, Ack-Ack did as he'd been asked and left the bridge.

Contigo Squadron was being sent out for this one. They were a good group––tightly knit, got along well, always had each other's backs. And it was that kind of comradery that they needed for this mission. They needed competency, they needed dedication, they needed good men. The 442nd was chock-full of all of that; but Contigo Squadron was particularly exceptional. They'd been a driving force on Christophsis, and if they were about to face more of the same, their experience would do them well. A chunk of Contigo Squadron had been biding time in the loading bay, waiting for orders, so that was where Ack-Ack headed to.

Sure enough, the usual suspects were loitering around the bay; though, loitering might not have been the correct word. Not in this situation, at least. For Gunney was sitting up against some crates, scrubbing at his helmet visor with a soft rag. Beside him was Strafer, who sat stretching out his arms and legs. Blinker and Klick were checking over their blasters, inspecting the gas canisters and cleaning the muzzles with gloved pinkys. A handful of Contigo Squadron's other members hung about, too, checking med bags and doing equipment checks. Others had laid out their supplies on the floor and were methodically repacking them into packs and crates.

It was Blinker who'd spotted Ack-Ack first, and a big grin split across his face when he did. He lifted a hand in greeting, and hoisted his blaster up onto his shoulder jauntily.

"Captain Acks! We got our orders yet?" he called.

Some of the men perked up, looking up from their tasks, other's turned an attentive ear whilst still remaining focused. Ack-Ack stopped where he could see most of the men and nodded to them.

"The General wants us to be ready when the call comes in. We're effectively on stand-by, so stay alert. Continue with your final preparations, but be aware we could be called in at any moment," Ack-Ack ordered.

Echoes of 'yes, captain' went around the group of assembled clones.

"How's incursion goin'? Y'know, with the blockade?" Klick asked. He jammed the gas canister back into his blaster without looking, a testament to how many times he'd done the exact same thing in the field.

"The 501st hit a bit of a roadblock. They… they suffered significant losses, I'm afraid," Ack-Ack informed. A solemn air wafted over the group, grimaced and drawn faces turning to look down in silent reverence. "Keep 'em in mind when we get down there. We'll honor 'em by fighting the way they would've fought it. Their deaths won't have been in vain. Whaddya say boys? We gonna do good by our brothers?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

A smile crawled across Ack-Ack's face, warm and confident.

"Now that's what I like to hear!"

Ack-Ack stood by and watched as the men went back to their activities. He watched as one trooper griped about all the stuff he had to pack and carry. One of their medics, Fang, was counting bacta patches. Blinker, who finished checking over his blaster, went to go sit by Gunney, chattering away. The latter continued to scrub at his helmet, and the slight lift of his lips caused by his facial scar grew as his brother said something amusing. It was moments like this that Ack-Ack tried to etch into his memory.

Because these were the most fragile moments in a soldier's life. The ones that you clung to with soft fingers when the world around you was exploding. The ones that they pulled out of their pockets on the days they lost countless comrades, brothers, friends. They were a reminder both of what they fought for, and what was at risk. Come the next day, it was entirely possible one of the faces that Ack-Ack was looking at would no longer be present. So it was for that reason he lingered, that reason he watched. Because he'd be able to pull this delicate memory out when all else seemed hopeless; and it would give him the drive to go on.


Afterword: The end there was a brief, introductory foray into Acks' POV; still gettin' the hang of his inner voice, but it was fun to try! A wee bit of down-time this chapter, just to address some things; and next up we've got the Innocents of Ryloth. And all I'm saying is… buckle up reaaaaal tight, boyos!

Review Replies!

DCDGojira: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Nerdette92: Dooku was definitely sitting there, watching them cuddle with the most disgusted expression on his face. The man was very, very displeased with his lot in life last chapter. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

MotherAiya: I had to push the tension to a fracturing point and the cuddling had to be it! The breaking point is… literally so close, you have no idea how excited I am. And, oh, Dooku absolutely snitched to his master about what he saw––he lives to make everyone else's lives hell. And the count-down starts ticking till they find out that it's Wyle… the Council has put their feelers out there… there is so much angst potential in the future and I, like you, am very excited for the possibilities it brings! And thank you so much, really! I try and make sure that a chapter is at it's best quality before posting it. It's been really enjoyable to edit these chapters, recently, and I'm very happy that you're enjoying them as much as I'm writing them. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

09sasha: Obi's thoughts on Hondo's flirting will be addressed a little later, but don't worry… we'll get them. And, oh… Hondo's not gone for good. We will absolutely see him again, and he will absolutely be bolder in his flirtations. And I wasn't able to work in a scene where Elara mothered/took care of her boys post-elctro-torture; but I've toyed with having a collection of one-shots/one-offs of things that I couldn't fit in to the main story. And we'll probably have a stint of Obi-Wan's POV next chapter… and we'll DEFINITELY have some Obi-POV the chapter after. I also think a lot of the medicine in the SW universe is like… patches and injections? I imagine there are tablets and pills, but they don't really spend a lot of time on medical practice. I'm introducing one of the medics from the 442nd (Fang) because I have a soft spot for medics. And I'm so happy that this story can bring you some happiness! It brings me a lot of happiness in writing it and sharing it. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! And I hope you've got that ticket for the Obi-Lara train handy… you're gonna need it soon.

Guest: Tarkin'll get what's comin' to him, I promise!

canopusXI: I'm really happy that this story can bring you some brightness! And getting up the chapters is really a joy for me, so I always try to find time in my day to sit down and write for a bit. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

thenerdnextdoor: I will credit my writing of Hondo to watching one too many pirate movies and reading one too many pirate books! I've always longed to write something pirate related, so I got to channel all that through Hondo! Also, 'wee smarmy bastard' is the perfect description for our lovable space Jack Sparrow. Dooku is gonna keep that information close to his chest and slide it to Sidious when he feels it's the best moment. He's… the worst. They're both the worst. And poor Anakin, pretty soon (very soon) his '?' attitude is gonna go to '?!' Anakin and Obi are definitely both very protective; but she's so capable that all they can really do is glare and huff, 'cause they have faith she'll get out of it xD And, yes! Elara's the master of witty clap-backs, and snagging the last word. I credit that to the fact that she grew up with Anakin. Also, I can totally see the 442nd screeching a battle cry as they storm a pirate's lair to save their Genny––loyal till the end, they are! And both Satine and Elara are definitely not the type of ladies to fight over a man. If anything… Obi-Wan's gonna have one hell of a time coping with the fact that they might actually get along really well. Poor, poor man xD And that boiling point you mentioned… I'd start watching the water 'cause it's gonna bubble over soon. Once again, thank you so much for the lovely review! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
the7horcrux: My secret love of pirates used to be a very public love of pirates when I was in middle school xD To anyone who knows me, though, knows I'll sell my soul for good pirate content––and I always will. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Amelia: Ahh, thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Pinnney: They all deserve so much more than down-time, but this was the best I could give 'em. Yet to address how the clones feel about the bounty––but you better believe Blinker's never gonna let Elara live it down. And as for the PotC fic sitting in my drafts… my love for Commodore James Norrington grew over the years. I have a 15 (?) page idea doc for an oc story for him. I don't think I've really touched it in years, but I'll read through it every now and again for fun. And there's more quality Obi-Lara content coming up! Real good stuff! Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

monkeybaby: Ohh, you best tighten up that seatbelt because it's about to go d o w n. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

MalirBly: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
ObiWanWinchester: Dooku, at one time or another, sends everyone with his snide, snarky comments! Obi-Wan and Elara, both speechless––very rare. And Anakin, clueless––happens more than he knows xD Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

lolistarkiller: Oh, Hondo realizing that the 442nd would absolutely eviscerate him was so much fun to write. Elara doesn't often deal threats, but when she does… she does it with confidence. Hondo was absolutely the surprised Pikachu meme in that moment! The plunge is a-comin'! And I love the clone sketch that you have up on your deviantart; it's great! Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Princess Jaquline Chess: I love the confidence that Hondo has that these three Jedi, whom he drugged, kidnapped, tortured, and almost sold out are his best friends. And that he's got the balls to look Elara dead in the eye and basically be like 'so––you and me? ;)' It's for that reason he's one of my favorite Clone Wars characters. And poor Obi-Wan and Elara get exactly one, (1), uno, un moment of vulnerability, and Dooku goes and ruins it. These two… hopelessly in love and so in danger for it. Also… Anakin being like 'yeah, they're just good friends, isn't that great?' is… that's very apt. Very, very apt! And Obi-Wan is on the Council, yes! I believe I mentioned it, but it was probably in passing some time in an earlier CW chapter. I might've mentioned it while they were negotiating on Christophsis? Even I can't remember, so there's no reason to worry about having forgotten xD Thank you again, so much! I hope that you're doing well, and that you enjoyed the chapter!

bambam411: You ready for another coaster? You ready for very soon? I sure hope so! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and hope you enjoyed this one, too! Thanks again!
KingPenguineJG: I'm very impressed you read this whole story in one sitting! And I'm very much looking forward to the Mortis arc; I've got a lot of plans for it… Elara's certainly gonna have a time and a half. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

RJNorth: Anakin and Obi-Wan being protective is some prime stuff––because they want so desperately to protect her, but sometimes it's all they can do to stand back and just… watch. A lá the Hondo moment. Some reaaaaaal good Obi-Lara discussions are gonna happen soon, and I'm so, so ready to write them. I'm also itching to get back into writing these two bantering flirtatiously. And brainstorming for your SW story makes me both so excited for the day you post it, and it drives me to keep writing mine! And it's not at all strange to think that the Council would send someone out––'cause they did! Elara'll get her chance to do some in-person investigating, but, for now… she's gotta bide her time. Every time I think of the Satine episodes, all I can think about is Anakin standing there with a martini glass––and how Elara's gonna be standing right there beside him. Whilst he's amused, she's gonna be… thrown for a loop. A real big one. I'm so excited to write that arc, and we're so close to it! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again––and may the Force be with you! (also that meme you made has still got me chuckling!)

I-got-zapped: This slow burn is killing me and I'm the one writing it! But we're getting to the all-important breaking point! I'm really very happy that I've been able to get these chapters up pretty frequently, especially after having gone through a stint where I had no creative drive. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

PrettyRecklessLaura: I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter! Thanks again!

LoveFiction2020: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

camelotprincess1: I love a character that's able to, like… stab someone and then make a joke about it right afterwards. It's a perfect combo, so Hondo's amazing to write. Anakin is such a little brother; his being impressed by Elara accruing a bounty was something I had to slide in there xD And Elara is definitely gonna be a little more on guard now that she knows about the bounty. The poor dear is still so confused about it. And if you liked jealous Obi-Wan, get ready, 'cause he's definitely gonna make another appearance later on! He's fun to write when he's jealous––especially because that jealousy has to be conveyed so, so subtly. Dooku is a master of cutting comments; which makes him a great opponent for Elara, the queen of getting the last word. But his noticing her and Obi's lil moment is, uh… certainly a little troubling. How thin is that thread they're holding onto looking? 'Cause they're really playing with fire now. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites! It means a lot!

Better strap in, buckle up, get some popcorn, and a drink––'cause next chapter is gonna be a doozy, I tell ya. I'm… so very excited. "Innocents of Ryloth" is up next, folks! We've almost concluded season 1, which means the first half of the first year of the Clone Wars is done with! Only… two and half more years and six seasons to go! Again, thank you all, y'all seriously rock! This story wouldn't be the same without y'all!

See ya next time! ;)

~Mary