The first night. The very first night. It was unfair.
Anakin had fallen asleep with the knowledge of the two tiny growing beings inside his wife beside him for the very first time and he had woken from a nightmare.
The images tonight were even more horrifying than the dreams of his mother's death. Padme, slicked with blood. Moans and cries. A voice – a voice he could not quite place – reassuring her. Obi Wan's voice, perhaps? Not quite. It was of little consequence. Anakin had seen Padme die, in childbirth, without him. He didn't know what happened to their children.
Anakin rose from the bed and padded towards the expansive windows of Padme's apartment. He remembered standing here, with Obi Wan, confessing to him the dreams of his mother.
They may be prophetic, they may not.
But they had been prophetic, hadn't they, in the end? Shmi had been in danger, she had needed rescuing. How could Anakin expect this dream to be any different?
Anakin imagined Obi Wan beside him, and what he might say.
We prevented your dream from becoming a reality once, Anakin. There is no reason we cannot do it again.
Anakin repeated it three times for good measure. No reason. No reason at all. All Anakin had to do was ensure that he and Padme were not separated. That the babies were born somewhere safe. The dream hadn't been in a hospital, had it? If he just made sure they were in a hospital…
We cannot obsess over manners of averting what you have seen.
That is what Obi Wan truly would have said. That they could never control anything, completely. That all happenings were the will of the Force. Anakin had lived under that doctrine for thirteen years and he still didn't quite believe it. The Force hadn't saved his mother that day. He and Satine had. He had cradled her body in his arms and he taken her from the wastelands and carried her home.
Anakin crawled back into bed and watched his wife sleep. With pregnancy, Padme had come to glow even more brightly than usual. She was more than an angel; she was a star. The centre of his galaxy.
The glow was healthy. Improved circulation, or something. Satine had told them about it but Anakin had only been half-listening. Padme was healthy. So healthy. Nothing bad could possibly…
Anakin placed his hands over his face and groaned. He was trapped on this endless cycle of useless thoughts. There was no chance at all he would get back to sleep. He would sit with his fear until sunrise.
Bo-Katan loaded an extra crate of rations, an emergency fuel can and two spare belts of weaponry into the small cargo cabinet of the fighter.
"I don't need all those, Ori'vod," Ahsoka protested. "I feel bad enough taking your ship…"
"Don't," Bo-Katan countered. "It's not my ship. It's a spare."
Ahsoka rolled her eyes.
"It's your spare ship."
Bo-Katan gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Your people care too much for technicalities."
Ahsoka gave a wry grimace but said nothing. Your people. She still looked a Jetii'ad, unarmoured with her 'saber at her belt.
"Mum and Dad will be upset to have missed you leaving," Korkie contributed, hauling a medi-kit and a therma-blanket into the almost overflowing trunk. "We have to look after you on their behalf. Mum says you always need a medi-kit and a therma-blanket."
Bo-Katan caught the look of guilt on Ahsoka's face and interjected before she could apologise.
"They'll be sad they didn't get to see you off," Bo-Katan conceded, "but they'll understand why you had to go. They'll be proud of you."
She stepped forward and embraced Ahsoka at her shoulders.
"What you're doing is noble, vod'ika. You're going out there to help a friend. To right a wrong. To fight for good."
Ahsoka gave a reluctant smile.
"You know that we'll welcome you back," Korkie added. "Whether it's a week or a year…"
The young man couldn't hide his grimace at the thought of the latter.
"You're a part of our family, Ahsoka. Whenever you need it, this can be your home."
Ahsoka nodded stoically and embraced him.
Kriff. They were nearly the same height.
"Korkie, tell me that isn't-"
Korkie grinned sheepishly as he pulled Mandalorian Folklore: Volume I from his belt.
"I wrote the Basic translations in erasable between the lines so you can read it without a dictionary. I just thought that maybe if you had some downtime it might be relaxing…"
Ahsoka hugged him again, fiercer now, lifting him from his feet.
"Thank you, Korkie. I won't neglect my studies. I promise."
Ahsoka clutched the book to her chest.
"Thank you both so much. I can't say it enough, I really..."
"We know, Vod'ika."
They watched the young solider clamber into the cockpit. Korkie was pretending not to cry, so Bo-Katan pretended not to notice.
"Stay safe!" Korkie bellowed over the engine noise.
"K'oyacyi!" Bo-Katan reiterated.
Ahsoka gave them a thumbs up – perhaps she, too, was too choked up by emotion to say anything more. They watched her lift from the runway and into a pod to be transferred across the dome. She would fly into a desolate star system haunted by space debris.
"Chin up, ver'dika," Bo-Katan told her nephew, giving him a comforting squeeze upon his shoulder. "She'll be back."
Korkie swiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand.
"She'd better."
The Darkest Day of the War: Republican Forces Retreat from Anaxes
As silence falls upon the wreckage of Endurance II, the devastating act of sabotage continues to wound the Grand Army of the Republic. The Republic's ground troops upon Anaxes, locked in twelve separate conflicts spanning weeks to months, were relying desperately on Jedi Master Mace Windu's reinforcements. These reinforcements, of course, never arrived, and the existing ground troops have today begun their retreat from a war they simply could not win.
The Chancellor of the Republic, the esteemed Sheev Palpatine, has responded immediately to the news of the retreat.
"We mourn the loss of the troops aboard the Endurance II, and we mourn the presumed loss of its commander, Jedi Master Mace Windu. But in all this tragedy we must not forget that the greatest suffering will befall the people of Anaxes, the people who have today been left to the mercy of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, a cruel army that has perpetrated countless war crimes. We must not lose sight of our goal in this time of mourning. We must rally, we must stand taller, we must find a resolution that does not waver. We must fight on. Republican troops must return to Anaxes. The people of Anaxes must be free."
The body of Jedi Master Mace Windu has not yet been found. The Jedi Order has given brief further comment through spokesperson Master Ki-Adi Mundi.
"This is a difficult time for the Jedi. The Grand Master Yoda stands in vigil, mourning the loss of these countless soldiers, and in contemplation of our best path forward. Master Windu is in our thoughts. We reach for him in the Force and know that dead or alive he is with us. No change to the Jedi role of the Grand Army of the Republic will be made without due diligence and joint discussion with the office of the Chancellor of the Republic."
The "best path forward" is yet to emerge. But there is little time to mourn. While the recent success of the Outer Rim sieges seemed to be turning the tide of the war in the favour of the Republic, the events in Anaxes have changed the balance of power in the galaxy profoundly. The Separatist invasion of the planet Bracca now looms as another crucial turning point in this war. Republican forces are holding their ground at present. HoloNet will follow the events on Bracca and Anaxes closely.
"Cam! I have a few questions for you, if you have a moment."
The retired soldier was deep in the palace Archives where Korkie had known he would find him. While his brothers were employed in positions somewhat resembling their prior professions – two in the Peace Corps, one as a mechanic – Cam had enrolled to attend the University of Sundari and study Mandalorian history. Korkie's mother had of course been heartily approving and had insisted on his free access to the Royal Archives.
"Always a free moment for the Prince."
Korkie rolled his eyes at the honorific and joined Cam on his knees by a low stack of holo-drives.
"They're retreating from Anaxes," Korkie stated. "Two hundred thousand troops. Where will they go?"
Cam sat back on his heels and pondered the question.
"Many will need medical attention, of course, in the immediate term. That will be provided on mobile medic ships. From there… some will be diverted to Bracca, presumably, if it looks like we need the numbers. The majority will be sent back to Kamino. They'll get some leave, finally."
"Back to Kamino?" Korkie repeated. "They wouldn't keep them in the wings somewhere closer to the battle fronts?"
Cam shook his head.
"Numbers aren't always better in war," he explained. "What's your Mando'an saying? A soldier with ten swords…
"…values not the one in his hand," Korkie finished. "I know what you mean."
"Besides, the spare clones are safer on Kamino," Cam went on. "You don't want to have your spare troops anywhere near CIS aircraft."
He picked out a holo-drive from the shelf and added it to his personal pile.
"The war has stretched far further than anyone thought it would," Cam told Korkie. "The Kaminoans never planned to have this many of their soldiers actively deployed at the same time. It's better for the army to have soldiers back on Kamino for training, being medically optimised, all that. Even us clones aren't designed to spend this much time on service. It's impossible to design anyone for that."
Korkie's interest piqued.
"How many would they aim to have on Kamino at a time? Of the three million adult clones?"
"In an ideal world, a third of them would be on Kamino."
"A third? A million troops back on Kamino?"
"Yep. That's how we'd be fighting a normal war. A war less horrible than this one."
Korkie brought his hand to his chin, pensive. He ran his thumb over his irritating teenage stubble.
"We have nearly three million clones currently deployed across the galaxy, correct?"
Cam nodded grimly.
"But if the scale of the war were to reduce… if further systems declared neutrality, say, and Republican troops were no longer obliged to defend them or able to use them as military bases… we could have more like two million clones deployed across the galaxy?"
"That's right, Prince."
"Korkie," he corrected him offhandedly.
His mind was rushing forwards. Rushing forwards to a galaxy in which he could use diplomacy, where he could do something useful, just like Ahsoka had said. He could use diplomacy to reduce the scale of the war and thereby reduce the reach of the Grand Army and the bio-chipped clones…
It wouldn't fix the problem entirely, of course. Two million clones perpetrating a Sith's orders would do damage enough. But if troops got to go back to Kamino then their Jedi generals would surely get to return to the Temple too. It would buy them time, if only a little, if a million clones had to travel from Kamino to do the Sith Lord's bidding. Every life was precious. Every planet that declared neutrality would make a difference.
They would have to bring the Separatists with them too, of course, to maintain the balance of power in the galaxy. But the economic incentives were there. If Republican planets promised to reinstitute trade deals in return for neutrality the Trade Federation would listen. Korkie had lived enough politics to know that money talked.
He thanked Cam and hurried off to see his mother.
Satine and Obi Wan had been welcomed home from their visit to Coruscant by an endless barrage of questions requiring Satine's counsel. They were honouring – attempting to honour – their new daily tradition of a politics-free lunch break, holed up in the Duchess's study where no one would disturb them, when Korkie barged into the room with the Force whirling, inspired, around him. He barely seemed to see Obi Wan, turning directly to look at his mother.
"Have you considered, Mum, that we might be forgetting the power of diplomacy?"
Satine cocked a brow, amused, as she helped herself to another mouthful of red gourd soup.
"That is not a crime I have been accused of before, Korkie'ad."
She eyed Obi Wan brightly. He had in their youth, of course, accused her countless times of overestimating the power of diplomacy and her own persuasiveness in particular. But Korkie was earnest and ignored the joke.
"We can do something, Buir, to help out while Master Yoda is trying to find that Sith," he pressed. "A smaller Republic means a smaller deployed Grand Army. We need to recruit as many systems as possible to the Council of Neutral Systems to reduce the scale of the war and therefore reduce the scope of the Sith's order."
Satine nodded her acknowledgement of his point, setting aside her bowl of steaming soup.
"You know I've tried that already, Korkie," she reminded him. "Long before we knew of the order."
Korkie flushed.
"Forgive me, Mum, but we didn't try that hard."
Obi Wan choked a little on his own soup. Stars, their son was turning into a brilliant force of nature.
"Really?" Satine asked, sceptical.
"I'm not saying it was your fault, Mum," Korkie assured her hurriedly. "It's just that when you founded the CNS that was when all the Death Watch stuff started happening and then we had all those economic problems and the Republic was going to kriffing occupy us so we had to back off."
Satine appraised this thoughtfully.
"Go on, bright one."
"We've defeated the Death Watch for good now," Korkie went on, "and the Republican sanctions don't sting like they used to – they've gone and poured all their money into this shitty war and now everyone's poor. If we go back out there and start recruiting aggressively, then every system that agrees to join us means that more clones can be retired back to Kamino."
Obi Wan rested his chin upon his fist.
"Which means a better chance of Jedi survival should the order be activated," he mused.
Korkie nodded his vehement agreement.
"I know we can't stop the whole war or fix this whole big problem, but I think we can do our part to make it smaller."
The family shared a slow smile.
"I think you've made some valid points, Korkie," Satine declared. "I think we would certainly be wise to try again."
She turned to Obi Wan and sighed, albeit with an underlying grin.
"This means more visits to Coruscant," she bemoaned. "More visits to the Chancellor!"
"This means more visits to Anakin and Padme," Obi Wan rephrased positively.
In discussions with the Queen, Padme had been granted a generous term of maternity leave that would commence in the last month of her pregnancy and continue for at least a year thereafter – which meant, of course, that she was furiously determined to create as much change as possible through the Senate in the intervening months before she stepped back from work for the first time since her early adolescence. Obi Wan's hopes for Anakin to have some time on Naboo would have to wait a little longer.
"Padme will be interested in Korkie's plan," Satine mused, understanding Obi Wan's thoughts. "You know, they have news for you, dear one."
Korkie brightened.
"I can come see them next time?"
"You can. We'll go soon, in the next few days. As soon as we can tidy up all these pressing constitutional matters."
"What sort of new do they have for me?"
"Exciting news," Satine murmured vaguely.
Korkie shot an interrogative glance at his father, who managed a smile and shrugged.
"You'll have to wait to hear it from them."
Exciting news. Stars. Obi Wan knew that Satine was right – that Padme and Anakin needed support, not doubt. He would support them. Of course he would. But he had a sinking, bad feeling that he could not deny. There could be no worse time than the present to have one's first children. No worse time than when his Padawan was so very close already to breaking point…
But Obi Wan had very nearly broken, hadn't he? When Korkie was young and he and Satine could do nothing but argue. When he had been sent to Fondor while his son was sick on Mandalore. And Anakin had been there. Undoubting. Supportive.
You must be very proud of him, Anakin had said, gazing at the baby in the bassinet.
On that life-changing day, it had not occurred to Obi Wan until that moment that he had something to be proud of. He had been thinking only of his failures and inadequacies. Until Anakin had spoken.
"You don't look that excited," Korkie observed, keenly.
"That's because I've heard the news already," Obi Wan countered mildly. "It is exciting news, Korkie. Good news. Truly."
There was little to be gleaned from the wreckage site on Endurance II; it had been resoundingly destroyed. Most of the large debris, Ahsoka assumed, had been picked up by the attending emergency services, or had contacted the atmosphere and fallen down to Anaxes before she arrived. It was eerie, being above it all. Looking at that planet and knowing the enormous pain that must exist upon its surface. The red-foliaged forests that had covered the planet's landmasses were already patchy from months of conflict. Now, more orderly bare spots were becoming apparent: the neat rectangles of land cleared by the CIS for industrial development.
More kriffing droid factories, probably. Exactly what this galaxy needed.
Ahsoka had been born on a planet of colourful forest and grasslands. Her very skin was coloured so that she might camouflage amongst them. Ahsoka looked down at Anaxes and wondered what it might feel like to lose your homeland, rather than to be lost from it.
She spoke more Mando'a than she did Togruti, these days. She had never dared try to relearn her mother tongue whilst in the Temple. The Masters would have shaken their heads and murmured of attachment.
Ahsoka's reverie was broken as she crested further over the horizon of Anaxes. A piece of debris, far separate from the rest. Her heart quickened. Perhaps Barriss's escape pod had been damaged and become stuck in orbit. She had expected to search for longer and wider than this.
But as she drew nearer Ahsoka saw that the object was not an escape pod; it was the Endurance II's severed cockpit, made of glass so that the commander could see out over their vast ship's trajectory.
The commander.
Ahsoka swooped down towards it. She thought she might have been able to sense life but didn't intend to get her hopes up. It had been days, now. And the fragment of the ship could surely not have remained perfectly sealed through the explosion…
Her borrowed fighter too small to take on passengers, Ahsoka pulled alongside the object and deployed her attachment legs. Now it was simply a matter of choosing where to land it. Fort Anaxes, the Republic's orbiting army base, would surely be overrun by Seppies and established as a base of their own. Getting down to the planet would be harder work, but she'd have a better chance at avoiding conflict. There were still deep swathes of untouched forest remaining.
Ahsoka descended through the atmosphere and thought of Anakin. She wouldn't be crash-landing this entry. As absurdly optimistic as it was, she couldn't shake the feeling in the Force that she was flying with precious cargo alongside.
Padme's perspective of the galaxy had changed rather radically in the past week – ever since her dear husband had chosen to enlighten her on the enormous Sith plot to use the Grand Army of the Republic to destroy the Jedi, that is. It was the sort of revelation that took a little while to come to terms with.
"Just so you know, I blame all of you for not telling me," she informed her company, pacing back and forth across her living room. "Not just Anakin."
Satine, Obi Wan and Korkie nodded in acceptance.
"And now you're telling me that Naboo should become a neutral state…"
She rubbed a hand against her aching forehead and gazed out the window, as though she might find inspiration Coruscant's expansive skyscape.
"Naboo has been a proud member state of the Republic for nearly eight hundred and fifty years," she recited. "Our union with the Republic is older than the city of Theed. We celebrate that union every year in our Festival of Light. Because we honour the democracy and collaboration that the Republic represents."
Padme chewed pensively at her lip, turning back to her audience.
"I know that the Republic is losing its way now. I know that better than any of you do."
She didn't mean to be argumentative. It was a simple fact. Only she had sat through session after demoralising session of debate that never landed upon a peaceful solution.
"Whether it's failing because of the pressure exerted by the Confederacy of Independent Systems or because our Chancellor values power more than he values peace-"
A flickering of displeasure, on Anakin's listening face.
"-or because of this Sith Lord lurking behind it all…"
She threw up her hands, hapless.
"Whether Naboo's departure would give the Republic reason to repair itself or hasten its decline… I just don't know."
Padme didn't say those words often. If you asked Anakin, she said them never.
"I don't know," she repeated.
It was liberating, in a way, to finally say it.
"What I do know, however," she mused. "Is that while Mandalore has been understandably distracted, I have not stopped trying to de-escalate this war from the day it began. And despite everything I have tried as the Senator of Republican Naboo, the war has only grown larger."
She managed a wry smile.
"You're right, Korkie. There are two-hundred-thousand soldiers permanently set aside for the prevention of an attack on Naboo alone, situated on our orbiting army bases. And if Naboo could convince even one of the planets in the Abrion sector to follow suit…"
"You could convince them!" Korkie chirped, unable to contain himself. "If you promised to reinstate your trade relations, if you went back to paying them a premium for their grain rather than the pittance they're giving by the CIS, or if you promised scientific collaboration for their hydro-energy sector…"
"Then we would have far less droids to contend with and less clones on battlefields with Jedi generals," Padme agreed.
"We understand that you must act in the best interests of your planet and your people, Padme," Satine advised, tempering her son's enthusiasm. "While we would appreciate Naboo's support, you are by no means obliged to give it. I know that it complicates matters, us being friends. But needless to say, we won't love you any less for whatever decision you make."
War was not in the best interests of her people. There was a lot Padme didn't know but she knew that much. This war had brought poverty and isolationism and uncertainty and had nearly brought the Blue Shadow virus to her people. She took a steadying breath and found a firm voice.
"I want to be part of this movement," she announced. "I've tried every avenue within the Republic to reduce the scale of this war. This is the only way left."
Korkie was openly grinning. There was a faint sparkling of optimism in Satine and Obi Wan's eyes.
"The Queen will agree with me," Padme went on. "The Republic has brought Naboo nothing but grief for the duration of her term."
She felt assured in her decision, reinvigorated by it.
"We have powerful voices to use, you know?" she prompted of her company, grinning herself now. "We're the HoloNet's favourites now, after all."
"We are the HoloNet's favourites, Padme, you and I," Anakin corrected her, with a smirk, before turning to Satine and Obi Wan. "Did you see the results of the Galaxy's Sexiest Couple poll?"
Satine snorted, Obi Wan scowled.
"Did you beat us?"
Anakin nodded smugly.
"You are looking at the winners, old man."
"Bantha-shit," Obi Wan declared. "No offence, Padme."
"None taken."
Padme listened to them bicker, light-heartedly, onwards. She wished that Anakin would talk to Obi Wan properly, beyond their banter. Talk to him about the fears that Padme was sure he had. It hadn't escaped her that Anakin was rising from bed during the night.
"I really do think that we can make the most of our fame," Padme reiterated. "For good."
She turned to the window once more and ran a hand along her abdomen. The swelling was small but undeniable.
"We are going to make this," she vowed, "the most famous and beloved baby bump in the whole galaxy."
There was a sputtering from behind Padme.
Ah.
She'd forgotten they'd not told Korkie.
"Is this the news you had for me?" he erupted, leaping to his feet. "Kriff's sakes, why did nobody…"
He shook his head in wonderment.
"I'm going to be a Ba'vodu!" he crowed.
Ah, beautiful Korkie. Irrepressible light in this dark galaxy.
Sorry for a bland-ish/political chapter, punctuated by my musings on Ahsoka's separation from her culture and shitty HoloNet humour. Next chapter: Ahsoka lands on Anaxes, Padme makes a speech to the Senate, and Sidious reappraises.
A question of guest reviewer 17's that I forgot to answer previously: sadly, there will be no more children for Obi Wan and Satine because when Satine had her placental abruption way back at the beginning of the story, Sewlen was forced to remove her uterus (emergency hysterectomy) to stop the bleeding and save her life. So she sadly has no womb to carry a baby in anymore. Sorry for my medical jargon not being clear initially.
Thanks for the beautiful support, my readers! A special thanks to any of you who have also read LOTCK - a little shout-out in this chapter with Satine's strong belief in the importance of medi-kits and therma-blankets.
xx - S.