From Flames, I Soar

by Kurenaino

With the Empire at the height of its power and the shadow of a greater threat hanging above all those who would oppose Palpatine, the Specters, led by former Jedi Padawan Kanan Jarrus, are forced to contend with the Sith Lord that set the galaxy ablaze. Sequel to In Chaos, I Thrive.

24. Tactical Retreat

AN: Alright! Bit of a longer chapter, sorry for the delay. The next...two? Three? Chapters of this are friggin huge, so excuse any delay it may take as I sit and ponder it. I want to get it just right, because it's a big stupid mess, and I LOVE big stupid messes. Enjoy, lovelies! Blood of Mandalore updates this weekend, got some good things for that, and if you want to read the worlds most messed up oneshot modern AU where Kenobi's a damned serial killer, Genesis is up and ready for you sickos to read. Hell is a real place, and I'm going there in such style. Seriously, though, it's one of the better and darker pieces I've written. Check it out if you're interested, but be warned, not for the faint of heart.

Chapter 24: Tactical Retreat

Thrawn stood in the room before the Imperial Navy High Command, his hands behind his back as he half listened to the superior officers rail against him, as was their custom every few months, or any time he had some level of success, a victory achieved by methods they never agreed with, seemingly discontented with victory, no matter how large, if it was achieved by the Chiss Admiral. But times like this were their favorite, times that were excessively rare and thus all the sweeter for it. The times when Thrawn's plans failed, and they had never failed more spectacularly then they had in what had been a small skirmish over Bandomeer turned military disaster. And so he was here, called back to Coruscant from his patrol duty in the Arkanis sector to be court marshaled. Again.

Thrawn's aid, Commander Eli Vanto, stood at his side, his gaze focused on the floor before him, his jaw clenched tight in irritation. The situation had been grossly unfair, Vanto had said on the way in. Bandomeer was clear across the galaxy from their patrol, and they had received the summons to return to Coruscant before they had even known there was an issue. Even en route, they had only gotten a brief, partial report of what had occurred, and most of the information on the matter they hadn't even received until they were standing here, being charged with accusations of all sorts, most of which they were hearing for the first time. He didn't show it nearly so expressively as the young Commander, but for once, Thrawn was just as irritated with the situation as Eli was.

What Thrawn had gathered of the situation was this: the Star Destroyer Malevolence, flying under the identification of the Chimera, had been attacked during its patrol over Bandomeer in a two pronged assault, one on the mining and refining facility down on the surface of the planet, and one on the Star Destroyer itself. In the course of the attack, rebel or criminal factions had managed to steal nearly four hundred pounds of refined ionite, a staggering amount, considering the rare, light weight qualities of the ore, and had somehow not only managed to take control of the entire facility, but had somehow managed to hijack the Star Destroyer. When reenforcements arrived, the Malevolence opened fire and destroyed two valuable Interdictor cruisers and delt moderate to severe damage on the three Star Destroyers that arrived to lend aid before Malevolence was destroyed.

Valuable resources stolen, thousands of people killed, three ships destroyed, one of which was a nearly indestructible Star Destroyer, and three other Star Destroyers so badly damaged it was almost more cost effective to scrap the ships and build new ones instead of making the necessary repairs. All this in light of the fact that no insurgents were captured made for a very bad situation, one that was only made worse for Thrawn personally in light of the fact that the security recordings from the Malevolence were destroyed with the ship, and the footage from the facility below had been lost when they reported that during the time, their security systems were malfunctioning, which was extremely convenient. Accounts of what had happened had to be given by the facility's traumatized survivors, and there had been no survivors from the Malevolence.

It was a situation with largely unknown variables, and as the man that instituted the plan in the frst place, Thrawn was called to answer for it to the delight of the High Command that hated him. He had been court marshaled before, but had always managed to get out unscathed, due in part because of people of influence who had taken an interest in smoothing the road for the politically dense non-human. So this, a bad situation with Thrawn's name remotely attached was all the High Command had been hoping for.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Admiral Thrawn?" one of the men asked, disdain in his voice that rankled the Commander at Thrawn's side. "A great many of the Navy's high officers have been complaining about the way you order them around," he sneered. "Perhaps this is why."

"On the contrary," Thrawn said plainly, the impassive quality of his dull, flat monotone visibly irritating the men and women sitting at the table before them. "If they had obeyed my instructions to not engage a force that behaves in this manner, no ships would have been destroyed, no men would be dead, and we would have security recordings essential to the capture of the Shadow King."

"And you would just have them allow insurgents and smugglers to do as they wished?!"

"No," Thrawn said, a slight growl to his voice as his irritation began to build. They did not understand. "Not any group. Just this one." He drew up, his back straight as he watched anger and outrage on the faces of the people he was supposed to try and placate, and Eli groaned softly. Thrawn always did this, and for all his genius, simply did not see the senseless insanity of the politics behind their military. "All the captains flying Star Destroyers displaying the Chimera ident were given a case file with very specific instructions on what to look for, in addition to procedure to be observed in the event that such behavior is observed."

"And you think you can just hand out orders to whomever you wish?!" a woman on the left snapped, and Thrawn held his breath, his glowing red eyes carefully watching the heat radiate off the High Command far more than before. They were becoming more angry. "That is the problem here, Thrawn! You have no authority to assume command of so many ships, especially not when some of those ships contain officers that outrank you."

"You don't even have proof that this was your Shadow King!" another chimed in, and Thrawn's eyes narrowed.

"I do, in fact."

"Oh, do you?!" he snapped, scoffing as he waved his hand in the air. "Do tell us, Thrawn, how did you manage to come to that conclusion when you weren't even there, and when there is no evidence?"

"We have evidence," Thrawn said flatly. "In the form of the testimony we heard here today."

"Vague ramblings from traumatized security personnel isn't evidence!"

"It is enough." Thrawn took a deep breath, waiting for the interruption, but it didn't come, the silence pressing him to continue. "Testimony from the private security force located within the mining facility put a droid on the scene, a Clone Wars era astromech that is a known part of the current Lothal insurgency. We have good reason to believe that the Shadow King is closely associated with these rebels."

"First I've heard of it," one of the men scoffed. "And what evidence do you have to support that?"

"The fact that he has come to their aid on several occasions," Thrawn said flatly, Eli taking out a datapad and quickly running his finger over it.

"I'm sending all the relevant files to you now, sirs," Vanto said quietly, stepping in mostly to give Thrawn a moment to process all the new information. "Workers from the factory say they saw a Jedi and a few Mandalorians, which fits the bill for both the Lothal rebels and the Shadow King. Given the circumstances, it's a good guess that we're dealing with the Shadow King."

"Then where's his rancor?" one of the women sneered, glaring pointedly at Eli, and the young commander bristled. "There were no reports of a rancor on the ground."

"Just because I do not carry my blaster does not mean I do not have one," Thrawn said flatly. "This is the Shadow King. Thinking otherwise will prove to be a dangerous mistake." He frowned, his high brow knitting together in concentration as he considered all the new information. "There are unknown factors at play. He has knew allies, or has changed his methods. We must learn what these are before-"

"You won't," the man sneered. "You are being reassigned."

"W-what?" Vanto said, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the High Command. "There has to be some mistake. That was the Shadow King!"

"And if it weren't for your Admiral, Commander, this attack wouldn't have happened!" the man snapped. "Identifying ships as the Chimera has just put a target on fifty Star Destroyers! How long before he destroys the next one?!"

"He will not," Thrawn said calmly. "The Shadow King is after me. Knowledge of multiple Chimeras will prevent him from attacking. He will be certain it is my Chimera before he attacks again." Thrawn frowned, looking at the ground and slowly stroking his chin as he thought. "He is dangerous, and it is ill-advised to give him the opportunity to engage us on his terms."

"As what happened on Bandomeer?!"

"No," Thrawn said flatly, drawing up slightly, and Eli could almost see the man bristle. "The situation I had designed forced him on to an Imperial Star Destroyer, the situation I created was one meant to ensure that the terms of engagement belonged to us. By engaging him, as the captain so foolishly did, the Shadow King forced us to fight on his terms. That is why we lost." Thrawn took a deep breath, the room silent and strangely attentive around him. "A Star Destroyer is not an easy target, and he will not use the same tactic again now that we have seen it."

"And you can be certain of that how?" the man growled. "Your ill-conceived strategy only served to make our ships a target!"

"As was the intent," Thrawn said, smooth and even, though Eli could hear the hint of strain in his voice. He was growing irritated. "Had my directions been followed, had the captain not foolishly attacked when he should have held position, the Star Destroyer could not have been boarded and wouldn't have been commandeered. Calling in reenforcements only served to force the Shadow King to be hostile in his escape." Thrawn's red eyes narrowed. "His failure to heed my directive cost thousands of lives and valuable resources. I am very close to catching the man. His activities upon the Malevolence would have given me information I need for his capture, and it has now been destroyed. Such an opportunity will be difficult to recreate."

"Such an opportunity will not be created," the man snapped. "You will not be hunting the Shadow King anymore, Admiral, and that comes directly from the Emperor himself. He says the matter of the Shadow King has already been taken care of, and you are to focus on pursuit of the rebel entity known as Nightswan." Thrawn's eyes widened slightly for a moment as he quickly observed the High Command, not a single one of them looking pleased.

"Understood," Thrawn said quietly, his easy compliance making cold, vicious glares twist the faces of the High Command. Like always, the outcome was determined before they had gotten there, and as always, Thrawn was sidestepping the consequences they felt he deserved, the result of his powerful benefactors pulling strings behind the scenes.

"Your reassignment," the man growled, "is on Botajef. There's a situation there you are to resolve, by any means necessary. The relevant information has already been sent to the Chimera." The man sneered. "Dismissed, Admiral." Thrawn and Vanto left together, silent as they walked down the long hall, the Admiral contemplative and the Commander silently fuming.

"They're just trying to bring you down again," Eli glowered. "I bet this assignment on Botajef is just another attempt to make you look bad."

"You are probably right..." Thrawn said, his voice distant and thoughtful, and Eli was silent, allowing the man the space to think. "Knowing what we do about the Shadow King, how do you suppose the Emperor has managed to get the situation handled?"

"Well..." Eli pursed his lips as he thought, his mind racing through all the data, all the information he knew about the Shadow King and all his identities. Eli had been brought in on this matter very late in the game, the Chiss having the former hopeful supply officer put his talents to better use in the much more subtle case of the Nightswan, the mysterious rebel that had been disrupting Imperial shipments of valuable materials all across the galaxy. Investigations into the Nightswan had led to him discovering something much more mysterious, the disappearance of positively enormous quantities of ore used to make starships, all of it being somehow hidden away, stockpiled, or used in some secret project. The matter was of great interest to the Chiss, and so, Eli had his hands full. The Shadow King, the Negotiator, Darth Lumis, Obi-Wan Kenobi...that had been Thrawn's pet project, a personal venture that he was unwilling to bring Vanto into. Until now.

"Could the Emperor somehow have used all the information you've gathered on the Shadow King to find a way to trap him himself?" Vanto asked, quickly biting his lip and shaking his head. "No, that can't be it. He must have put someone else on the case. Someone he thinks is better suited to the job."

"Perhaps..." Vanto frowned and shook his head, the Chiss as noncommittal as ever.

"The High Command didn't seem pleased about redirecting you to Nightswan, so that isn't exactly a demotion. Could the Emperor think that Nightswan is somehow a bigger threat than the Shadow King?"

"A bigger threat?" Thrawn repeated, straightening up and folding his hands behind his back. "No, not bigger, but perhaps more immediate. Kenobi has been harassing the Empire since its inception. Alone, he is no true threat to the Emperor or his rule."

"But he isn't alone anymore, is he?"

"If he was ever alone to begin with, which I sincerely doubt..." Thrawn took a deep breath and held it, his gaze fixed straight ahead of him. "No, Kenobi has always had allies, and many of them. He has merely been biding his time and waiting."

"For what?" Vanto asked softly, and the Chiss turned his glowing stare on the young Commander.

"For an opportunity..." Thrawn whispered, his monotone edged with amusement. "He is smart, and he is patient, and he was most certainly aboard the Malevolence. Nothing else explains the sudden turn of the crew on their reenforcements. Which means it is very possible that the next time we cross paths, he may be more amicable toward me."

"...how, sir?" Eli asked, completely confused, and a faint, secretive smirk turned up the corner of Thrawn's lips. He was used to being confounded by the Chiss, but...this was different. When there was silence for more than ten seconds, Eli knew he wasn't going to answer. "Does this mean we won't be capturing him?" he asked, trying a different angle.

"On the contrary," Thrawn said evenly. "This will make it easier to capture him. If his guard is lowered even slightly, it will be enough. It is still far too dangerous to make the attempt. He possesses a method of mind control I do not yet fully understand. But I will soon." The Chiss frowned. "What is keeping him from mobilizing his forces, do you think?"

"Maybe...hmm..." Vanto's lips drew into a thin line, his arms crossed over his chest and absently rubbing at the Lieutenant Commander rank plaque on his uniform. "His forces have to be spread thin, right? Maybe he can't mobilize yet."

"Which may explain Nightswan's elevated importance to the Emperor," Thrawn mused. "Somehow, Nightswan is aware of the disappearing raw materials from the market. Perhaps he is even aware of this secret project the Empire is building. It is obviously of the utmost importance. Perhaps it is this that Kenobi is waiting for."

"...have you figured out yet exactly what it is, sir?" Vanto asked, and Thrawn shook his head.

"I do not know. The quantity of the resources disappearing indicates that it is enormous." The Chiss' eyes narrowed, a deep frown on his face. "The discovery of such a thing seems imperative. I wonder if Kenobi knows. Nightswan most certainly does, given his pattern of smuggling ore for crafting Imperial ships away from the Empire."

"Could that be why the Emperor wants you after Nightswan?" Eli asked. "To keep Kenobi away from the project?"

"Possibly..." Thrawn took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I must know what this project is..." He nodded. "Nightswan is, indeed, the priority. The matter of the Lothal insurgency should be resolved soon enough. The Grand Inquisitor has been called away to aid in ending the rebel cell. I hear they are bringing Tarkin in for the job." Eli shivered.

"Nobody deals with rebel factions like Tarkin."

"Yes...I am interested to see how he chooses to fight Kenobi. We shall have to pay close attention to their activities. What we can learn from observing the activities surrounding Lothal in the coming days may give me a way to finally trap the Shadow King."

"And you think they Emperor will let you?" Eli asked, and a faint, knowing smile crossed Thrawn's lips.

"Oh, I suspect he will, yes..." He straightened up. "One thing at a time, Commander Vanto. Let us first deal with the Nightswan, as the Emperor wishes. I will also need to make time to visit Bandomeer. I wish to examine the facility myself. There is merit in a strategic retreat. We must take this time to study our adversary. His methods are changing, and he has new assets we must take into account."

"And you believe you can do that just by watching?" Thrawn nodded.

"With the force that is being brought to subjugate Lothal, our Shadow King will need to show his hand to escape with all his allies. We will use this time to see exactly what those allies are, and the methods he uses to fight his way out of Tarkin's trap."

"And Tarkin has set a trap?" Thrawn nodded, and Eli laughed and shook his head. "Damn. I suppose you don't get to the tp by being a fool."

"No, you do not," Thrawn said softly. "Tarkin has faced him in the past and has done quite well. I look forward to learning from his example. I have already sent the Grand Moff my suggestions of engagement and a full report on Kenobi's tactics and strategies and how they have changed since the Clone Wars. Before long, Kenobi will have nowhere left to run. I have already ensured that."

"How?" Eli asked, but the Chiss didn't respond, only smirked faintly as he made his way back to the shuttle to return him to the Chimera.

---

Minister Maketh Tua hurried through the streets of Lothal from the government building, her head lowered and her gaze fixed on the street before her as she attempted to calm her fast and ragged breathing. She had done all she could for Lothal, tried to do her best for the planet, the people and the Empire in Governor Pryce's absence, but all her efforts had been for nothing. A rebel group had sprung up, not a terribly unusual thing, but her group was...excessively mobile, and all her best efforts had been unsuccessful in stamping them out. As time went on, she called in the help of ISB Agent Kallus, but to no effect because this group of rebels was led by a Jedi. A real one. Not one of the stories, not a thing out of the imagination of children but a real, honest to goodness Jedi.

Things got out of hand after that, and further resources were called in. A member of the fearsome Inquisitorius, and not just any one of their many brothers and sisters, but the Grand Inquisitor. It had been enough to put the Jedi on the run...until it wasn't enough. Until something had happened that left the Inquisitor stranded on an asteroid after chasing the fleeing rebels there, and he hadn't been seen on Lothal since. Not until today, the Inquisitor returning, scowling and bitter and angry, his left hand little more than a palm, his five fingers missing, and Maketh shivered. The rebels had bested the Inquisitor. How was she supposed to explain this problem to Governor Pryce upon her return?

The answer came for her that afternoon, when she and Agent Kallus and the Inquisitor met in the Government building's massive hangar to greet the new asset that the Empire was sending them to deal with the rebels. Only it wasn't an asset.

It was kriffing Grand Moff Tarkin.

Maketh almost fainted at the sight of him, the sharp featured man none too pleased with the handling of this vital Outer Rim world, an essential piece of maintaining Imperial control in the region. How could she have allowed this to happen? How could Kallus have let the rebels triumph? And how had the Inquisitor, a specialist in slaying Jedi, failed to slay this one? All questions that Tarkin had asked, and none of them had an answer. The imposing man had dismissed them all, promised to review the situation that evening himself, and tomorrow afternoon, changes would be made.

Maketh had never been so frightened in her life, had never felt anxiety so strong. Surely Tarkin would understand. Surely he could see how loyal she was to the Empire! He had to. What could she have done? She wasn't military, she held no command like Kallus, she had no powers like the Inquisitor, controlled no troops like Commandant Aresko. She was a civilian, a government official with no real power. She was just there as a placeholder, an administrator to run the menial things while the Governor was away on Coruscant. Tarkin must have understood that.

There was no way she could be held responsible for all of this! She had given the Empire more than she was able, sacrificed her personal life for the good of the citizens of Lothal and for the interests of the Empire. She had no time for her friends, her family, no chance to fill the void that was her romantic life, and it was all for the Empire. Sacrifices, all of them, things that kept her awake and lonely at night when she tried to sleep, the strain of it all almost more than the young woman could bear. And now rebels, Tarkin...

Stress and anxiety and fear and tension rushed through her, her mind swimming with all the stories she had heard about Tarkin, her heart pounding and her fast, uneven breathing unable to be brought under her control as she thought about what tomorrow might bring. She was distracted, so distracted, so withdrawn into her own mind that she failed to notice her surroundings, and slammed right into someone walking out of one of the alleyways, and Maketh Tua went tumbling to the ground, dropping the pouch of data cards she had been carrying with her back to her home so she could prepare for her meeting with Tarkin and the pouch opened, spilling data cards all over the dusty ground.

"Oh, dear, I am so sorry," a light, smooth voice said, a clipped, almost aristocratic lit to his Coruscanti accent, the man reaching out and grabbing her hand, and Maketh looked up into the clean shaven face of a young, handsome man, sharply dressed in the black double breasted tunic and pants of a TIE fighter officer, his rank plaque displaying the four blue tiles of a lieutenant. Her furiously pounding heart seemed to stop at his touch, her near hyperventilating lungs freezing mid-breath, her face heating terribly, but in an instant, all her worries seemed to fade away, a single touch clearing her thoughts and concerns as she looked into eyes that seemed almost...gold.

"Are you alright?" he asked, soft and sweet, and Maketh slowly nodded, at a complete loss for words. With a smile, he knelt and began scooping up her spilt data cards. "I wasn't watching where I was going, I apologize. I just transferred here from Skystrike Academy. They need pilots here on Lothal to test the new TIE fighters." He stood, handing her the pouch and smiling. "Um...I mean, the rebels only blew up one of them, right?"

"Y-yeah..." She had heard that they were bringing pilots in to test the new TIEs. Lothal's increased production was turning them out in such numbers that they were nearly ready to be distributed to Star Destroyers all across the Empire. All they needed were the best to test them. She had arranged that, Lothal's increased production was in part her doing. Tarkin would see that. She could feel her anxiety returning, and she gave the pilot a nervous smile, but found she couldn't speak when he returned her smile with a terribly charming one of his own.

"I've never been to Lothal before," the handsome officer continued, running his hand through golden blond hair and laughing softly in embarrassment. "I'm trying to get my bearings and wasn't paying attention so..." His eyes narrowed slightly and he leaned in, and Maketh flushed deeply when she felt those strange eyes examining her. "Are you...local?" he asked gently. "I swear I've seen you somewhere before..."

"Y-you very well may have," she stammered, holding her hand out to him. "I'm Minister Maketh Tua." The golden eyes widened, a pleased smile on his lips that made him look both bewildered and delighted.

"You're Lothal's minister?" he gasped, a light, easy chuckle in his voice as he clasped her hand between his. "It must be my lucky day. The holonet doesn't do you justice, Minister Tua. I'm Lieutenant-" He stops, holding his breath for a second before he smiles and shakes his head, his eyes lids lowered seductively over his unusual eyes, and Maketh couldn't breathe. "You can call me Ben," he drawled, smooth, even and inviting, and she felt herself drawn to him, all her worries and concerns about Tarkin and the rebels fading from her mind.

She had been working so hard, tirelessly since Governor Pryce had left the young woman alone to care for the most important planet in the Outer Rim. She...deserved this, she had well past earned the right for a break, to have some handsome officer sweep her off her feet, if only for a moment. In a time when her stress had reached its highest peak, the timing couldn't have been more perfect to run unsuspectingly into a man that very literally knocked her off her feet. It was...almost too perfect, but she quickly brushed the notion aside. There were hundreds of new Imperial arrivals on Lothal every single day, and Tarkin no doubt brought a large compliment with him. Ben here must have come in with the Grand Moff, and she was distracted. Of course she'd run into someone like some distracted idiot.

"Listen," Ben said, drawing closer, his voice lowering to a smooth, even drawl, "let me buy you a drink to make up for so carelessly running into you." He slowly reached up, his long fingers brushing a strand of her pale blond hair behind her ear and lightly touching her temple, and she shivered, the tension and stress and need within her reaching a breaking point. She had been without for so long. "I could-"

"I'd love to!" she quickly interrupted, somehow managing not to trip over her tongue in her haste and excitement, and for the briefest of moments, the lightly stroking fingers stopped, stiff and tense as a look of confusion flashed across the handsome face, wary and questioning, as if he hadn't expected her to so quickly agree. Was that even possible? A young, handsome officer of the Empire surely had no trouble landing himself a woman, so why? She brushed that thought away as well, He was young, just out of Skystrike, and was probably unaware of the draw. Almost as soon as she had seen it, the questioning flash in the golden eyes was gone, his fingers tracing down her cheek and falling to grasp her hand once more, a delighted, almost bemused smirk on his face, his entire demeanor pleasantly surprised.

"I didn't expect you to say yes," he said, a shy smile on his face, his eyes drifting to look away as his face softly flushed. How old was he? Maketh peered close at the man's fine features, the golden eyes that almost seemed to glow in the twilight, his smooth cheeks, his hair longer than regulation, all of it making him seem almost boyish. He couldn't have been more than twenty, though something in the way he carried himself suggested not the bold step of a young officer, but the calm confidence of someone much more seasoned. He may have just been youthful, or else he was the most impressive young officer she had ever seen. Perhaps the fight against the rebels should be led by this guy.

"I didn't expect to be asked," she countered, and his gaze drifted up to her, a sly smirk on his lips and expression that seemed to scream mischief.

"Honestly, I expected this to go very differently..." His face lit up when she looked at him questioningly, and he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Not all people in positions of power within our Empire take things like this kindly. The last time I bumped into a superior, I was beaten so throughly I thought I wouldn't be able to get up again."

"P-poor thing..." Maketh said, sighing when he let her hand go and offered her his arm, and she delicately took it. "And I'm not a superior, I'm just a minister. It's the Governor that has the real power, not me."

"And you govern in her stead," Ben smoothly drawled, affectionately petting the hand on his arm. "That makes you very powerful..." He smiled at the slightest hint of ambition and excitement in her light brown eyes, a soft gasp on her lips as if she hadn't considered how much influence she could actually wield.

"M-maybe so..."

"Well," Ben chirped, "I live in service to powerful women. So tell me, Mistress," he lazily drawled, lifting her fingers to his lips and slowly kissing them. "What would you have of me?"

---

Two hours later saw Minister Tua and Lieutenant Ben in the woman's modest apartment after plying themselves with very fine, very expensive alcohol at the local bar, their breathing heavy and their hands wandering as they quickly undid buttons and buckles and clasps in a desperate, frantic effort to divest the other of their clothes first. Ben was winning, the tight clasps of the officer's tunic a fair bit more difficult to remove than her own civilian clothing, and she was down to her undergarments before her own shaking hands had managed to even halfway undo her partner's uniform. She was...out of practice, and despite his previous shyness and modesty, Ben was clearly experienced, his long fingers deft and steady as they undid clasps and buttons with ease, and she briefly wondered how many women he must have had to have such steadied, practiced hands. She quickly found that she didn't care how many, so long as she got to have him here. Tonight. Now. After all, by this time tomorrow, she may be dead.

"I-I haven't done this in a while..." Maketh explained in a voice that trembled in nervous laughter. "I'm not the sort of girl that takes a man home the night I meet him!" She winced as soon as she said it, her explanation falling flat since that was exactly what had happened. "Stars, you must think I'm some...s-some..." Ben laid a finger over her lips to silence her, and she immediately obeyed the gesture, hardly daring to breathe as she looked at the man and found understanding on his face, like he could somehow sense her sudden distress and disgust with her own broken standards.

"It's alright," he said softly, his fingers lazily stroking the bare skin of her waist, and he smiled when she shivered, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle the moan he was drawing from her. "I...have that effect on people." He slid his hands over her hair and undid the tight bun she kept the pale blond strands tied in, the silken hair cascading over her shoulders and falling between her shoulder blades, and the officer hissed appreciatively. "Beautiful..."

"I wouldn't normally be doing this!" she tightly explained, growing more and more nervous the more excited she got. "But Tarkin arrived, and we're having a meeting tomorrow. He's going to make changes and I..." She shivered as the long strands of her hair slid through Ben's fingers, but he drew no closer. She bit her lip as she looked at him, his head tilted curiously to the side, attentive and silent as he waited for her to continue. She didn't. She couldn't.

"You're afraid." It wasn't a question. Maketh looked away from him and nodded, tensing as the man placed his hands on her shoulders and backed her up, sitting her down on the bed and she watched him tensely as he sat beside her, a respectful gap between them, and she found herself relaxing immediately.

"Tarkin is taking direct command of Lothal," she stammered. "It's good, of course. We have a rebel problem that we haven't bee able to get a handle on."

"That's why we're here, yes," Ben said softly.

"He's holding me partially responsible for it," she muttered, tightly grasping his arm and scooting closer, her bare leg pressed against the fine black cloth of his pants. "Me and Agent Kallus and the Inquisitor, and of the three of us, I'm the least valuable." Her thin form began trembling. "Someone needs to pay for these failures. Someone needs to be held responsible..."

"And you think that person is you," Ben said softly, the Minister tensing and with a whimper, she pressed herself against his chest, listening to the low, long hum in his chest as he thought. She felt his fingers slowly drag across her bare shoulders and in their wake was...warmth, a deep, smooth pulsating heat that ran down her pack like water, that touched the tension in her back, the knots in her muscles and removed them, brushing them aside as if they were nothing. It was...impossible, and she wouldn't have believed it was happening if she wasn't so keenly aware of the feel.

"Do yu know what he is planning?" Ben asked softly, and relaxing against him, Maketh's hands slowly petted at his tunic, his rank plaque, and decided the coat needed to come off now. When she slowly made to continue undoing the clasps, the officer stopped her hands whit his own for a moment before he slowly began helping her with the task.

"I don't know..." she said softly, slipping her hand inside his tunic when they had unclasped it enough for her to freely feel at the muscles of his chest, and she frowned slightly as she touched him when she felt not the smooth, even skin of a young man, but the feel of long, deep crossing scars and welts. "I know he's swift and decisive..." she muttered. "I know he's bringing in someone big and important to help him."

"What, Tarkin?" Ben scoffed, shrugging off the tunic when he undid the last clasp, the woman at his side gasping softly and running delicate fingers across the long, black scar across his chest. "Tarkin's asking for help? From who?"

"I don't know..." Maketh whispered, looking up into his face, her eyes wide and searching. "I just know that it's someone very important, and they're bringing a large force with them. Tarkin is very serious about securing Lothal, and our rebels..." She looked over her shoulder as if checking to make sure they were alone, and she leaned in closer, her hand flat on the scarred chest. "These rebels have a Jedi. Tarkin's taking this very seriously, and it seems like he believes that the Shadow King is working with them."

"You don't say."

"That's what the Inquisitor believes..." She laughed nervously, suddenly trembling in Ben's grasp, and he drew her closer to him, his fingers in her hair as he absently stroked and petted. "I'm going to die..." she whimpered. "Tarkin is going to have me executed. I-I'm doing the best I can, I-" She sniffled and bit down on her lip to keep tears from falling, her hands absently stroking to the officer's sides and desperately clinging to him like she had nothing else to hold on to.

"You're scared and alone, Minister..." Ben said softly. "No wonder you have thrown yourself into the arms of a man, everyone needs comfort." Ben kissed her pale cheek, his hands tracing her back and slowly unclasping her bra and tossing it aside when the Minister clasped her hands behind his neck and climbed into his lap, whimpering pitifully when his hands rested on her hips. "Let me take care of you..."

"Stars, please..." She wasn't sure who kissed who first, but the second his lips touched hers, she felt a desperate keening in her throat, her arms tensing to hold him closer as he quickly removed her last article of clothing. She couldn't explain it, but somehow, she felt...safe, like he would solve all her problems, like everything was going to be alright. She felt herself relaxing and surrendering herself to him when he laid her back on the bed, leaning over her and gently running a hand over her chest. It was going to be alright.

"Please..." she whispered, running her fingers over the scars that covered his chest, carefully avoiding the deep black one for fear it may hurt him. It looked painful. "Please, tell me everything's going to be alright." He drew back slightly at that, his eyes narrowing slightly, his expression serious, and she felt the breath catch in her chest. She had thought it was a trick of the light, but those strange, golden eyes did glow.

"Would you care to hear what I truly believe?" Ben asked, his light, carefree lit gone in favor of a low, pensive growl, and she couldn't help but slowly nod. "I think..." he began, trailing a hand up her thigh. "From what I know of Tarkin, there will be consequences for the repeated failure in regards to the growing insurgency problem, but I don't believe that you will pay the price for the repeated failures."

"You think I'll be alright?" she timidly squeaked, a small, hopeful smile on her face as she looked into those eyes. She had seen eyes like these before on only one other person, not exactly the same, but similar.

"For now..." Ben drawled, pinning her arms above her head with his forearm and returning the inquisitive look she was giving him. "Most likely, Tarkin will try to cull those in charge by executing someone lower in the chain of command who can also take part in the blame for the rebels' continued existence." Ben quickly kissed her forehead. "I think, at least for tomorrow, you are safe." Maketh reached up and stroked his cheek, her thumb running under his eye.

"I've seen eyes like this before," she whispered. "It's not quite the same, but the Grand Inquisitor has eyes like yours..." A clever smirk came to her face. "You don't happen to be some...undercover agent of the Inquisitorius, are you?"

"Nothing like that, no," Ben said, chuckling softly as he kissed at her neck. "My mother's mother was Pantoran. Yellow eyes run in the family."

"And all your scars?" Maketh ran her hand over his chest. "I know you said the military...disciplined you, but-"

"Abusive weird uncle," he quietly explained. "Family drama, that's all. Nothing I take with me into the bedroom." He nudged her legs apart with his knees as he wiggled out of his pants, the Minister's breathing becoming heavy and excited as she watched him. "You ready?"

"N-nervous..." she said breathlessly. "I-I haven't-"

"I know," Ben interrupted as he stroked her hips, the Minister arching off the bed as a wave of desire washed over her. "You and I are going to be very good friends, Minister, I can tell..." Ben smiled at her, a small, wild thing that made Maketh shiver, and for just a moment, she saw something in him, the slightest hint of something unspeakably dangerous. "I'll be gentle, I promise..."

---

Obi-Wan sat in the armchair by the window, his leg crossed over his knee as he stared at the data card in his hand. It had been checked more than once for tracking devices, hidden spy programs, encrypted transmitters, anything that was malicious, malignant, underhanded, a way to glean more data from him while his guard was down. HK-45 ran the first scan and found nothing. He had K-2SO run a second, more thorough check when he returned to the Umbra. He himself had run several of his own checks even after the incredably able K2 had assured that nothing was amiss. This was a gift, as it was intended t be, and still, Obi-Wan had yet to find the strength to actually look at what was on the card.

Bandomeer had been a categorical failure. Even though his plan had been executed to perfection, it had been done in the jaws of a trap, rendering the entire operation not only immediately futile, but actively damaging to his position in his fight against Thrawn. He had placed the man in checkmate, only to discover he had cornered a pawn, not the king, had held the Idiot's Array in his hand, only to have the cards shift at the last minute and leave him with a complete bust. Instead of capturing and killing Thrawn, Obi-Wan had laid his entire hand face up so the Chiss could see all the new cards he had collected.

The Chimera. Obi-Wan scoffed, his hand tightening around the data card as he made to slip it back into his pocket, only to find his grip tightening, his hand unmoving, and slowly uncurled his fingers to look at it once more. There was no telling how many Star Destroyers out there were designated Chimera, their identification transponders concealing the true name of the ship. It was a serious oversight to not have considered this, and in his haste to do away with the Chiss, he had not done his research well enough. It wouldn't happen again. Each and every Chimera they found was a trap, nothing more, and there was no doubt in his mind that the actual Chimera was the biggest trap of all. It may not even be possible to even attack the Chiss' ship at this point anymore. Once again, Thrawn staunchly held the advantage.

Of course, it was very likely that the Admiral got nothing from this fight, a stalemate instead of a victory. Thanks to the timely appearance of more Imperial ships, he had a way to throughly destroy the false Chimera and with it, any recording of his activities on board. Even better, Chopper's tampering with the security systems down on the mining facility would have rendered any recordings collected completely unusable. There were eye-witness accounts to deal with, of course, and once the Chiss got his hands on the people who had lived, he would know more, but the accounts would be unreliable and inconsistent. It was chaos down there, after all, just as the Sith had ordered.

Really, the only one that had come out ahead was kriffing Lando Calrissian.

Obi-Wan looked at the data card in his hands, and his eyes drifted to the window, the dawn only just beginning to break. The return trip to Lothal from Bandomeer had been especially tense, and he had spent most of it alone, researching his next step and speaking to Ahsoka to develop a plan for Lothal. For the rebellion, this was an especially important mission, one that Ahsoka was trusting him with because she was too nervous about the dangers to send anyone else. Something big was happening on Lothal, and nobody knew what it was, but they knew why. When it came to keeping Imperial control in the Outer Rim, Lothal was a key strategic position, a strong military base outfitted not just with an Imperial Academy, but with the factories and production output necessary to create an entire invasion force within a week.

Keeping the spirit of opposition alive on Lothal was essential, not just because they could damage Imperial production with dissatisfied workers from the inside, thereby severely weakening their grip on the Outer Rim, but because as long as the Empire held tight control of Lothal, a greater rebellion beginning in the Outer Rim wasn't possible. Even if he were to turn Mandalore against the Imperials, the retribution coming from their other points of power would see the flame of rebellion quickly doused, lit prematurely and failing to catch the fire they needed. They lacked unity, and so long as Lothal stood ready to respond to rebel threats, uniting the rebel cells would be very difficult. They needed Lothal as it was, managed by idiots, where the rebels could continue to erode the Imperial structure. But that seemed to be coming to an end.

It was a window of opportunity that couldn't be missed. With word of the Imperials sending a larger presence to Lothal to deal with the rebel insurgency in their vital world, now was the time to make certain that Lothal remained in in their grasp. An actual confrontation with a massive Imperial force was a terrible idea, so Ahsoka and Kenobi agreed that sending the Sith to investigate the situation before hand was a necessity in devising their plan going forward. With any luck, he could turn someone high up the chain of command into his puppet, get someone in on the inside to feed the rebels information. Once they had been infiltrated, even a larger force would have difficulty dealing with the rebels, so Kenobi set to the task of deciding who he was going to sink his claws in.

His gaze drifted from the window to the naked Minister Tua on the bed, the woman deeply sleeping and throughly used. She had been the obvious choice for several reasons. She was important, but only because the Governor was out, which put her in the center of things without bringing notice to herself. But beyond that, Obi-Wan's gift from Thrawn had dragged Satine to the forefront of his mind, a place she was never far from anyway, and the Minister shared a close enough resemblance to the woman to make her immediately appealing to the Sith Lord. Her hair was too long, yes, but it shared a similar pale blond color, her eyes were light brown instead of the striking blue, but it mattered little when they were closed, and he couldn't see them at all when he took her from behind.

Her voice and accent wasn't the same, but it was close enough, and her skin was pale and smooth enough to feel so much like his lost love that more than once, he caught himself feeling for the scar on her hip that she had acquired on Draboon when he had foolishly dropped her, only to have his heart stab with pain when he remembered it was a different woman under his touch. He had intended to seduce the girl, use the compulsion of the Dark Side to see her dragged into his grasp where he could spend some time altering her mind, shifting her loyalties, looking into her thoughts and memories and drawing out the necessary information. But in the end, she had thrown herself at him all on her own, lonely, desperate and so very, very afraid of the Empire she served. It was more than ideal.

One of his pawns could stand on their own for a time, but not for long, and under scrutiny, they would surely be found by the Empire's paranoid eye. But a willing plant, one that served him with their own will instead of his own...that was an irreplaceable asset that needed to be cultivated, and Maketh Tua was so willing to serve him. Her eagerness for everything he had to offer, coupled with the memory of his long since dead lover on his mind saw Obi-Wan take her several times, until the dark of night strained with the threat of dawn, until the woman was long past sated, far past the point of exhaustion, only able to cling to him and moan tiredly underneath him as he thrust deep inside her.

It wasn't just for his own pleasure, of course. There were many ways to secure a person's loyalty, and when the time came, fear of what the Empire would do coupled with the memory of the man that was there to hold her in her time of need would see her turn from Imperial Loyalist to Rebel Spy. Ahsoka always needed new Fulcrum agents, and Maketh Tua could be ideal, if she was played correctly, and she had practically played herself, giving Kenobi not just her body, but her confidence, and that was more valuable than anything else.

The comlink at his wrist beeps and he ignores it for the first few chimes, his eyes glued to the sleeping Minister, the woman not moving a muscle despite the sound, and she wouldn't be any time soon. He had worked her past the point of exhaustion for a reason. He knows the call is encrypted. All the people with his personal com dial would only use encrypted coms themselves, but force of habit makes him check it anyway, and he rolls his eyes. Encrypted, as expected. He answers is before the device can chime again.

"Lumis."

"Lumis, this is Fulcrum," Ahsoka's voice came clear and quiet over the com. "Do you have a handle on the situation?"

"I do, and it's worse than we feared," he said, his voice low to keep from waking the sleeping woman. "They meant it when they said they would be sending something big. Tarkin's here."

"Tarkin?" Ahsoka hissed, Kenobi's momentary silence standing in for his answer. "Shit."

"He's calling in more help that will be here tomorrow. We may have to write Lothal off as a loss, Fulcrum. I have two ships, a rancor, three droids, one hell of a pilot, two Mandalorians, one and a half Jedi and a big purple cat." Kenobi scoffed. "I may be a Lord of the Sith, but I'm not invincible, and I'm not stupid, and while I might be able to make my force look much bigger than it is..." He sighed and shook his head. "Lothal's a stronghold. I can deal a lot of damage. But you can bet that Tarkin will be expecting me, and he will see the world burn if it means I go down with it."

"...it's a really big rancor, Lumis." Obi-Wan chuckled softly.

"Still not invincible, my friend. I don't want to let him loose in a city like this, too many things can go wrong, and if I lose my rancor, you might not be seeing Obi-Wan anymore." He smirked slightly when he heard her sharp intake of breath. She had remembered the last time. Last time, Lumis' rage had burned a planet and destroyed a system, and in the Jedi's haste to end the war quickly so they could focus their efforts on dealing with a Sith Lord gone mad, they had sent Quinlan Vos, Asajj Ventress, and Ahsoka to Raxus to assassinate Count Dooku. The ploy had failed, and Darth Lumis had captured Quinlan and dragged him down into the Dark Side. It had been the last time she saw her Master walk in the light until the moment of his death, when he had died to save her.

"Alright, well, can you go after Tarkin directly?" Ahsoka asked, and despite the fact that she could not see him, Kenobi rolled his eyes. "You did it before a few years ago on Eriadu, and in his estate, no less. Surely you can do it again."

"Yes, perhaps," he scoffed, looking at the data card in his hand and deliberating on putting it away or keeping it in his grasp. "If I had months to plan like I did then, I could certainly make a go of it, though he and I have played that game before, and Tarkin didn't get to where he is by not learning from his mistakes. Not to mention that breaking into a home is very different from breaking into one of the galaxy's most secure military facilities, even for me."

"I don't want to lose Lothal, Lumis."

"Great, send ships to help us." There was silence, tense and frustrated, and he could almost see Ahsoka biting her lip and tracing the white markings on her face with a long finger, a habit that she had picked up from Quinlan so very long ago. "No, you can't risk the greater rebellion for my Spectres," Kenobi spat, and Ahsoka scoffed in disbelief.

"What, your Spectres?"

"Yes, mine," he snarled, a soft groan from the bed immediately drawing his attention to the Minister, and he sat in silence, waiting to see if she would awaken, but after a moment, she nestled back into the covers and lay still. "I will not sacrifice my rebel cell to keep a planet we cannot possibly hope to hold," he said, softer this time. "I want them to join the greater rebellion as soon as possible, not die pointlessly against the storm the Empire will bring upon them here on Lothal."

"You can't bring them here," Ahsoka quietly warned. "Not now, not when they are being hunted."

"We are all being hunted."

"Not like you, your cell is led by a Jedi." He could hear Ahsoka sigh heavily, could feel her tension even across all the distance between them. "The Grand Inquisitor is after them, and you can bet that Tarkin is there and not dealing with other rebel groups personally is because of the Jedi. The effectiveness of the cell is inconsequential, the Jedi leader of the Spectres is a symbol, and that is far more dangerous to the Empire than a single cell." There was silence for a moment. "Do you understand why I can't have them join our cause?"

"They'll lead Tarkin and the Inquisitors right to everything we have worked to build, I'm not an idiot." He took a deep breath. "We are going to lose Lothal," Obi-Wan said slowly. "That is an inevitability. The planet is too important to the Imperial plan, and from what I understand, Tarkin is calling in reenforcements. I guarantee you, he knows he will be dealing with me. He'll be ready." Ahsoka hissed softly.

"Do you know what he's bringing?"

"No, but my contact is meeting with him tomorrow. I'll have all the information by then, and from there, I'll make a plan with the Spectres. I don't want to commit to a plan before I have all the information I need, but..." He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. There are a lot of very powerful Imperials converging on Lothal right now. It's almost too good to pass up. If I can make a big enough mess, we can draw the big guys out and take them down all at once..."

"You make a big enough mess, and Lothal's going to be subject to an orbital bombardment and you're all going to die," Ahsoka drawled. "As you said, Tarkin will scorch the planet if it meant killing you."

"I know, I know..."

"Who's your contact?" Ahsoka asked. "Someone we can use?" Kenobi grinned wolfishly.

"You'll like this. Minister Maketh Tua. And before you say anything," Kenobi growled when he heard the Togruta gasp, "she's here and she's sleeping, so try not to shout."

"...you didn't."

"Six times!" Obi-Wan whispered excitedly. "But one of those might not count because I made her-"

"No, stop, I don't want to know!" Ahsoka quickly interrupted, sighing heavily when she heard the Sith laughing deeply. "Never let it be said that you haven't whored yourself out for this rebellion..."

"I suspect I will continue to do so," Obi-Wan said casually. "Oh, the sacrifices I make for this rebellion..."

"Ha, ha. You're an ass, Lumis."

"It didn't go like I thought it would, she practically threw herself at me. I didn't even need to use the Force to get my way, Fulcrum, she's desperately afraid and just needs someone to treat her like she means something. This one has the potential to be an actual ally."

"Not just another girlfriend?" she asked coyly, and Obi-Wan snorted in disgust.

"Oh, please, Fulcrum, I don't have girlfriends, I keep slaves, you know that..." Obi-Wan said, his voice distant as he looked out over the city, the data card clutched tight in his hand. "I'll keep working on her. I believe she can be easily convinced to aid us in the future."

"Which would be very useful if you lose Lothal like you seem to think."

"Always have your bases covered," Kenobi muttered. "Anything on your end?" He could hear Ahsoka groan, which was never a good thing.

"We looked into Senator Trayvis, as promised," she said, her voice flat. "You were right. He's been pretending to be an enemy of the Empire in order to lure rebels to his location to ambush them. That was a good call. If the Spectres followed that lead instead of going to Bandomeer with you, they'd have been caught in the trap."

"Did your agents get away?"

"Two of them didn't..." Ahsoka growled, and Obi-Wan sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too..." Ahsoka sighed morosely, and Obi-Wan kept an eye on the Minister. With the sky above Capital City breaking with the dawn, the woman would be waking soon for her duties, despite the long night they had, and when she did, he's have to play his cards right to draw her back to him, lest he lose this vital ally. "Worse than that, Trayvis did another broadcast, but this time, it was to recommit himself to the Empire and denounce your Spectres as dangerous, violent insurgents."

"Well, he's at least right about that..."

"Don't be glib, Lumis, he's offered a reward for their capture. Now that we know Tarkin's involved on Lothal, this move reeks of him. He's trying to flush them out and damage the good work they've done. Public image is important to fighting this war, we can't gain allies if people believe us to be worse than the Empire." Obi-Wan took a deep breath and held it, his moth pressed in a thin line, and he rolled his eyes when he reached up to stroke his beard as he thought, only to touch bare skin.

"Two can play that game," he whispered. "There are some very important people on Lothal right now. Tarkin, the Grand Inquisitor, whoever it is that is being called in to help. If we make a big enough commotion, we'll draw them out to deal with us. At the very least, I need to bring the Inquisitor to heel. He needs to remember who his Master is. I'll start gathering information to stage an attack based on the intel I will receive from the Minister today after her meeting with Tarkin. In a week or so-"

"No, you need to act quickly," Ahsoka said. "The more time you take, the more time Tarkin has to prepare for you, and he knows you're there."

"No, we need to take the time to step back and gather information," Kenobi growled. "The faster we rush in, the faster we will die. Nobody ever got anywhere meeting Tarkin with force."

"Nobody ever got anywhere meeting him with tactics either!"

"Uh, I did, sweetheart. And what would you know about going against Tarkin? I fought him many times during the Clone Wars! Did you?" He could hear Ahsoka softly grumbling, her words unintelligible, though he was certain they were curses. "Honestly, Fulcrum, what did Quinlan teach you? No wonder you failed as a Jedi, that bastard never did have any patience."

"He was a better Master than you could ever be."

"...I know." Obi-Wan felt the familiar stab of pain in his chest, his teeth clenched tightly as he felt the wounds within him tear open and begin to bleed the seething, tainted poison of the Dark Side. He could feel the beast stirring within him, his constant companion howling in anguish, and on the bed, the woman began whimpering. With a swift curse on his lips, Obi-Wan forced the Dark Side to submit, reluctantly calming, but he could feel its protest through the throbbing burn in his chest, the monster yearning to be set free. This was why he hadn't looked at the data card in his hand. He was afraid of what would happen when he was confronted with the image of his beautiful lover, and he had a job to do.

"I rushed to act when you found the Chimera," Obi-Wan quietly explained. "If I had prepared, if I had stalked the ship until I knew everything, I would have learned it was a fake. I will not make that mistake again."

"...that was my fault," Ahsoka whispered. "I'm so sorry about all that. If it was a more complete trap, if-"

"Stop it, Fulcrum," Obi-Wan said calmly. "Thrawn is my fight, not yours. He played his pieces well, and it's my move again. I'll get back to thinking about it once this matter with Lothal is settled."

"I want to help," Ahsoka said softly. "Listen, Lumis, there's a rebel cell headed by a man named Nightswan. Have you heard of him?"

"We've briefly discussed him, yes."

"I hear he had a brush with Thrawn years ago and has since been studying him. Following his career very, very closely, which has made him something of an expert on the subject of Thrawn." Ahsoka chuckled softly, almost as though she could see the look of fierce determination on the Sith Lord's face. "I've had no luck getting him to meet with us yet. He's leading a rebel cell out around Batonn, but they're a suspicious, paranoid lot. But I'll keep trying. We'll get Thrawn, Lumis. I promise you that."

"I know..." On the bed, the Minister began to stir, groaning softly and turning when the early morning sun filtered in through her window and drew trails of light across her face. "I need to go, Fulcrum, the Minister is waking up," Kenobi whispered. "I'll keep you informed of the situation as it progresses. The Spectres and I will meet to discuss today's meeting with Tarkin so we know what we're up against. I should have the basic idea of a plan by tonight."

"I'll be waiting," Ahsoka said quietly. "May the Force be with you, my friend."

"And also with you." He switched off the com and quickly ruffled the hair he had smoothed when he got up, divested himself of his pants, and quietly slid into the bed next to the Minister, his arms wrapping around her and drawing her against him, the gentle curves of her back fitting against his chest. He gently kissed at her neck, nipped at her ear, allowed his hands to lightly rove the length of her body, and soon enough, each touch drew a keening whimper out of the woman, each stroke making her squirm against him as she slowly awoke, breathless and aroused in the arms of her lover for the night.

"Morning', beautiful..." Obi-Wan whispered, his hands on her hips and drawing her closer to him, the groggily, half-awake Minister moaning softly when she felt the man's quickly growing arousal pressed against her.

"What time is it?" Maketh asked, her tired eyes squinting against the light, and she shifted in the Sith's arms, turning over and laying her head against his chest and smiling faintly when he brushed the pale blond hair behind her ear, the silken strands sliding through his fingers as he brought them to his lips.

"Long before the government buildings open," Kenobi muttered, kissing the corner of her lips, and the Minister sighed softly as he gently nudged her legs apart, her breath coming faster as she rolled onto her back at the man's insistence, the Sith Lord going with her and settling comfortably between her legs, propped up on his elbows as he stroked her face. "I want to see you again, Maketh," he whispered, and the woman turned her face away, trying and failing to conceal the deep red flush on her pale skin.

"T-that would be alright with me." He quickly kissed her.

"I'll leave you the number for my personal com. You'll contact me after your meeting, won't you? I want to make sure you're alright." The nervousness instantly returned, and with a soft whimper, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her.

"I-if it's not alright..." she whimpered, her fingers threading through his thick, golden hair. "If I'm not...i-if..."

"If you fear for your life, Maketh, you call me and I will come running." Kenobi lightly kissed at her neck when she felt her hands tighten in his hair.

"What can you do..."

"Mm, I might know a Mandalorian that can help." The already tense woman froze, her breath held as she looked into eyes that had fire burning within them.

"A-aren't Mandalorians dangerous?" she meekly asked, and the soft smirk on Kenobi's lips slowly widened into a devilish grin.

"Oh, yes they are..." Maketh whimpered softly, reaching under Kenobi's arms to stroke his back and drew him closer as she clung to him, her legs adjusting slightly to allow him inside her.

"I promise, I'll call..." She sighed softly as he slowly pressed into her, the strange warmth at his fingertips brushing away her concerns about everything. It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.