In a darkened room close to the top of the Tranquility Spire, Ahsoka knelt surrounded by eleven masters, feeling more out of place than she had since — well, maybe yesterday.

"Passed your trials have been," Yoda was saying formally. "Showed great resilience in the face of adversity, you have. Triumphed have you over Sith, over Grievous, over betrayal, and hopelessness. Admirable leadership qualities do you possess. Earned this ranking you have, and use it well we believe you will."

"Thank you, Master," Ahsoka said, bowing her head.

"Accept you the position of Jedi Knight?"

"I do."

Keeping her head bowed, Ahsoka felt Yoda approach, blade ignited and steady in his hand. He came around to her side, reached up to take hold of her Padawan braid, which she'd hastily produced at the last minute with Obi-Wan's help because she hadn't wanted to ask Anakin for her old one back — that he couldn't be here was enough of a low blow, she didn't want to rub that in his face even more. So she'd scrambled around with Obi-Wan to procure a string of silka beads similar enough to her last one, only so that she could stick it on her headdress and have it cut off twenty hours later. Ceremony, shmeremony.

The most jarring part about this whole thing really was that Anakin wasn't here. The second most jarring thing was that this was happening at all. This thing that she'd been dreaming of her whole life. This coveted right of passage. This thing that she wasn't really sure she wanted at all.

Well, she did. Of course she did. The Jedi were her family. At least, they always had been. At the very least, that's what they'd always said, even if that wasn't exactly how they had acted, when it had really mattered the most….

Ugh. It was…complicated.

But this was what she wanted. This was what she wanted. This was what she wanted.

…

…

…

Oh. Maybe she was one in denial, not Anakin.

Or, okay. Both of them. Because he definitely was.

She'd told him about all of this beforehand, of course. She'd been sort of fluttering between staying at the temple and crashing at Padmé's apartment (welcomed there, of course) for the last few weeks. But no matter where she went, it felt like she was in limbo. It felt like she was out of place. Didn't belong at Padme's with the set of new parents, constantly occupied with their children (she still couldn't believe Anakin had children), didn't feel right in the temple, after everything they'd done to her…didn't belong, either, down in the underlevels with the interesting pair of sisters she'd somehow traversed the galaxy with in a series of unwise decisions….

But in the end, she'd realized, there was one place she belonged. Or, at least, one place where she was really, totally welcome. One place where everyone was always happy to see her, but had no desire to dote upon her or dwell on what had happened. One place where she didn't have to think, but could simply act, and escape.

And the only way to get back to the 501st, in the end, had been through being knighted. So, here she was.

She'd discussed it with Yoda briefly, and though he was caring and compassionate as ever she'd gotten the definite sense that even he hadn't put as much thought into it as he might have before. She was welcome back, he'd said, if that was what she wanted, and if she was prepared for the commitment, and that had essentially been it. She'd expressed interest in leading the 501st for the duration of the war, which was concluding rapidly but hadn't been completely and entirely wrapped up yet…he'd agreed, and a few days later, she was here kneeling in the Council Chambers surrounded by eleven ignited lightsabers, being initiated back officially into the Order. And Anakin wasn't even here to see it.

Yoda severed her braid and handed it to her, then stepped back, holding his lightsaber over one shoulder, and then the other, and then raising it back skyward.

"By the right of the Council," he said as he made the motions, "By the will of the Force, I dub thee Jedi, Knight of the Republic."*

Ahsoka raised her head. Yoda continued, "Confer upon you further the rank of General, and pass to you command of the Five Hundred and First Legion for the duration of the Clone War. Serve well, and listen to the Force. It's guidance we all need in this troublesome time. May the Force be with you Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Knight."

She stood, bowed deeply, and made her way silently out of the chamber to blink in the bright light of the hall, thinking about little more than how anticlimactic this all felt to her.

So it was done. So she was a Knight. A General. And so she was ignoring the persistent, incessant voice in her gut telling her that this was so, so wrong, and that she was making a huge mistake.

But was she? After all, hadn't Anakin himself said that her leaving the Order had been a mistake? But hadn't that, too, just been him getting too attached, as he always did? Hadn't he also said he'd thought about leaving, as well? And hadn't he left? So what did he know? And furthermore, what did her gut know? What was best for her? Well, did her gut have any better ideas about what to do with herself? No? Then for now, this was what she would do.

For now. That was the ticker. Ahsoka could always just leave again, if it didn't work out. Like, for example, if she got framed for another crime she didn't commit and the Council decided to abandon her again. But, really, what were the odds of that happening twice?

This was a good thing. It had to be. She was sure. Definitely, positively sure. Yes, absolutely. She was as sure of this as Anakin was sure that he wasn't traumatized. Yup. That was how very, very sure she was.

So, it was settled. This was definitely, absolutely a great decision on her part. She was so happy to be back at the temple, to be a Jedi Knight and a general in the GAR, of all things.

And maybe, if she tried hard enough, one day that would actually be true.

Padmé had been doing the great majority of her work at the Senate offices, which was dreadful in a thousand different ways, but thankfully the only meeting she had today was being hosted at her own apartment, safe away from prying eyes and ears in the Executive Building. For the things that the Loyalist Committee and signees of the Petition of the 2000 urgently had to discuss were hardly something that could be spoken just anywhere, in the event that Palpatine did somehow get acquitted after his upcoming trial.

Worst case scenario. She didn't want to think about it, yet that was why they were here today.

At least she could be home today. That was the only saving grace of this horrible situation.

They met yet again under the sunny dome of her living area, with the yellow couches and balconies and low caf tables, discussing things that certain people in the Republic may have considered rather treasonous. So, it was a normal day.

"We meet again in the most dire of circumstances, my friends," Bail started. "That which we most feared is coming to pass right before our eyes."

"The Republic is failing," Mon Mothma added. "Palpatine is about to go to trial and if he is not found guilty, losing the fight for democracy may be the last thing we have to worry about."

"The time for petitions and delegations is over," Bail said, with a passionate flame in his eyes. "We have tried that, and we have been ignored. If this trial fails, we will have to take a different kind of action. We're trying to see how much support we will have if the need does arise."

"I have spoken with King Lee Char," said Senator Meena Tillis. "You have the support of the Mon Cala government, and the head of our military, Captain Ackbar."

"I can vouch for how meaningful that support will be if we must call to arms," Padmé said. She heaved a sigh. "Though I dread what another war might mean for the galaxy. I must state again my insistence that we need to collaborate with the Jedi in this matter."

Bail nodded. "We now know for certain where the Jedi stand on all of this, and it is clear we share a common goal: bringing Palpatine to justice."

"My only worry," Mon cut in, "Is that we must not allow ourselves to be known quite yet. If the trial ends with Palpatine being acquitted, his first target will be the Jedi. If we ally ourselves with them openly, we will be targeted same as them, and possibly neutralized alongside them."

There was silence in the room. Bana Breemu, who had vocally opposed involving the Jedi in this a few weeks ago, said, "You think Palpatine wishes to dissolve the Jedi?"

"He couldn't possibly," Fang Zar of Sern Prime said, baffled by the accusation. "He may have tried to gain control over the Jedi Council, but their Order has stood for thousands of years. Even he couldn't go so far."

"I believe Mon is right," Padmé said, choosing her words carefully. Anakin's admittance echoed in her mind: I would have burned this temple to the ground to keep you safe.She wished she could pretend it wasn't true. Well, at least it wasn't anymore. Right? "I am friends with several Jedi, and they share the same belief."

Bail said, "Palpatine's defense has stated intent to start a legal battle with the Jedi if he is found not guilty. I agree Jedi involvement will be necessary to our cause, but we must be careful of how we go about it. Going to them publicly would be cause for controversy, and suspicion."

"Our primary goal must be to convict Palpatine of treason," Padmé said. "Given my long history with Palpatine I have agreed to testify against him as part of their prosecution. Therefore, there are probably some things I should not know, if you follow me." She paused. "And I don't mean that I'm unable to keep a secret. Rather, I'm simply afraid of what Palpatine is capable of through the Force. The less people know of any concrete ideas, the better. But I agree we must still prepare for the worst."

She couldn't believe she was saying this. Advocating for open war. War against the Republic. Not that it was much of a republic anymore at all.

Not that Padmé would call herself a pacifist by any definition. She was no Satine Kryze, rest her soul. But for her, war and combat had always been a last resort, as it must be now. It must.

"If we are going to gather support," Bail said, "We must ensure it is reliable support. Those we can rely on to follow through in the event that Palpatine wins."

"We have Chandrila and Alderaan behind us," Mon said, "And Meena has pledged Mon Cala. Padmé, have you any idea whether the Naboo would support us?"

"I've not discussed this with Queen Apailana or the Gungun chief," she started, "But I —"

In that moment, she heard the sound she heard about thirty times a day, one of the babies — she thought it might be Leia — crying. It was faint, but her head snapped in the direction of the sound instinctively, as if for that one moment she'd been granted the power of the Force. Then she looked back at the other senators, who were all staring at her.

Oops. She hadn't realized how far that sound would carry.

She cleared her throat. Gathered herself for just one moment, as if nothing was wrong. "And many of the people in the queen's court feel personally responsible for allowing Palpatine to accrue so much power. That said, it has taken us a long time to recover from Trade Federation's invasion, and tensions with the Gunguns have been shifting over the course of the war. I cannot confirm whether or not they would be able or willing to lend support."

No one spoke. She frowned. She could still hear Leia, or maybe Luke. She was getting better at telling their cries apart, but she wasn't always right. "I apologize for the interruption, Senators. I'm sure it will be momentary, as my — mother is here and will attend to the baby."

Then the other one started crying, and Padmé fought the urge to wince. "Babies."

"I didn't know," Mon said, a smile dawning on her face. "How old are — they?"

"Five weeks," Padmé said, unable to suppress a loving grin. "I had them the night Palpatine was arrested, actually." She cleared her throat. "I — I wasn't going to announce this yet, but I suppose it would be prudent to do so now…I am actually planning on retiring from the Senate as soon as Palpatine's trial is concluded. One of many reasons I'm determined to see him convicted," she added with a little laugh.

"Your commitment to the cause is astounding, sometimes," Bail said, a twinkle in his eyes.

"It's difficult," she confessed, "But I've come this far in the opposition to a tyrant. I can't step down now." Another pause. "And I assure you I am committed, and I would prefer to be able to continue working for now. So I hope you will all respect my wishes and keep the existence of my children a secret. I simply wouldn't want any news outlets to become…distracted." There were nods all around the room. "Now, please let us continue working."

"Indeed," Mon said. "There is danger in trusting the political process right now. Palpatine has made four amendments to the constitution rendering it unrecognizable from before the Clone War. His court defense will attempt to use the legality of these changes to deny any claims of treason. I dread the possibility of their success, but in that event, we must be ready and waiting. An immediate call to arms would be unwise until we know exactly who our allies are and what powers they hold."

"We are all in agreement, I believe," Bail said. "Mon and I will work on the sidelines, in the shadows. Padmé will work publicly in the Senate, as a sort of cooperative public face of our movement." He glanced sideways at her. "You are aware of the risk, I assume?"

"I am," she confirmed. "Yet another reason I must ask for your discretion. As you all know, there have been many attempts on my life. I would like for those attempts to be only on my life, and not my family's. But I will not hold back. I admit I've begun to lose faith in the political process, but there is yet some hope. In some ways, goodness has already prevailed. The Jedi were able to make this arrest only at great cost to their own. They will fight tooth and nail to prevent a Sith Lord from being returned to power."

"I worry the Senate does not share their fears," Giddean Danu said. "From what I've heard, this revelation means little to most."

"People fear what they do not understand," Padmé said. "And even I, a friend of the Jedi, barely understand the Sith. Perhaps we can use that to our advantage."

"How?"

"The Jedi I have spoken of, the one that I said we can trust," Padmé said, and she realized her voice was incredibly hushed. "He is a member of the Jedi Council, and has personally encountered the Sith many times. He will help us if I ask him, and it could be a way to work closely with the Jedi without our connection becoming known."

Bail looked thoughtful, and she was for some reason grateful when he kept his voice down as well. "You're speaking of Master Kenobi?" She nodded. "I agree with Padmé. I would most welcome his help."

"Are you absolutely certain this is a good move?" Bana said warily. "Would it not look suspicious were someone to notice him attending our meetings here?"

"Not at all," Padmé said casually. "As I said, he is a personal friend. He's been over here a few times of late. This would appear to be nothing more than one of those friendly visits."

Mon was frowning at her, and Padmé retroactively heard how her words must have sounded. "I have no wish to pry into your personal circle, Padmé, but I'm afraid there is more to this than you're admitting."

There was a lurch in her gut as Padmé suddenly realized what she'd gotten herself into here. On the one hand, they really needed to work with the Jedi if they were going to bring Palpatine down, when all cards were in his favor and the entire structure of the government had been designed by him to see them fail.

On the other hand…everything that she was afraid to tell her colleagues now was information that Palpatine already had. In fact, the very thing she was doing — trying to get the Loyalists to accept Obi-Wan's, and the Jedi's help — was precisely something that Palpatine had tried to use to get Anakin on his side. It wasn't impossible he still had plans, that he was plotting away in his secure prison cell, to use his knowledge of this in his favor somehow, as he had before. But the thing was — she didn't have to let him have all the power. Palpatine may be holding all the cards, but she could take some of them back if she made the right move. If she reclaimed the truth for herself and took control of it.

Though, there was one card Palpatine didn't have…he couldn't possibly, there was no way….

He did not, in fact, know that it was twins.

She swallowed. No. Padmé would not follow that chain of thought through to conclusion.

After a long moment of deliberation, conscious of her friends staring at her, she came to a decision. "You're right. No secrets among us, only secrets from Palpatine. The reason that I know we can trust Obi-Wan, and the reason that he has been coming over here, is because my babies' father is Anakin Skywalker."

Despite everything that was going on — the universe ending, and all that — Padmé could not believe how good it felt to say that out loud.