Kalla yelled out from the cockpit of the stolen Imperial ship, "Almost at Triple Zero. Be ready."

Coruscant.

Anxiety built up so much within everyone that it emanated into the atmosphere of the ship, so thick it could be cut with a heated knife. The volunteered rebels sat silently, staring at the ground and lost in their own thoughts. Worries. Prayers of love, hope, and success. Some clutched drawings that their kids had made to their hearts. Others held onto old jewelry, molded to fit the shape of their hands perfectly.

Talia wrung her gloved hands steadily, her brown eyes trained on the wall ahead of her. Her brown hair was stuffed up into a bun, hanging just below her Imperial cap. Cassian's infiltration team wore Imperial officer garb, while the rest dressed as dignitaries or highly civilized citizens of Coruscant. She wasn't sure if having Kay-Tuesso was more soothing, or a huge mistake. The droid assisted Kalla in piloting, but kept muttering how ridiculously unsuccessful this plan will be. Accidentally thinking out loud, she whispered, "It never gets easier...does it?"

Halron, who sat next to her in the same Imperial garb, questioned as he adjusted his coat, "What?"

"Fighting the Empire."

He glanced at Talia with his dark eyes, wondering what prompted the question in the first place. The job was rough. It's what they signed up for, after all. Then again…it really could get easier. This mission could be the turning point of the entire galactic civil war. Halron played with his short red hair for a moment, weighing the situation's outcomes in his mind. "Maybe after this it will."

Cassian racked his mind for any contingency plans. Wounds. Death. Survival for some, not all. The possibilities racked up in his mind. Get the Senators, go back through the maze, and out the door. No other entrances were ever constructed. If there was a lower floor that the rebellion knew about, then maybe. All the intel said was the maze. No one ever came back to tell what was after it. He rubbed his fingers together, toying with the pads of his thumbs unconsciously. Second ship. Need a backup ship.

When he focused in on what he was staring at, he averted his eyes. Talia and Halron spoke lowly. Cassian didn't want to draw attention to himself. He had enough to think about already. No distractions. The cogwheels in his mind turned. Any vehicle will do. Transport to a hangar somewhere. Hijack a ship. Get out.

With the odds against them, that backup plan was all he could think of.

The ship took a slow descent, guiding into one of the hangars nearby the palace. The other rebels looked up in fear. Hopefulness. Courage. Or, nothing at all. Almost in sync, all of them turned their gazes to Cassian.

He shifted in his seat before he stood up, his hand grazing the bar above his head. What was he supposed to say? All of his inspirational words had flown out on the winds of Dantooine like a Brith. But…looking around the ship at all of their faces, their worn out body postures, and their conflicted expressions, words wouldn't soothe them any more.

All they needed now were orders.

Determination took control of Cassian's features. Serious expression. Fire in his eyes. Words were short, simple, and to the point, just like his mother taught him. "Kalla stays here for our exit. Halron, Talia, Kaytoo, and I will go in. Sadako and the rest of you will be standing by in different positions within the palace in case things go wrong." He grabbed a few communications devices from the bag near the cockpit. Fumbling with them for a second, Cassian began to hand them around. "If any of you see or hear anything, no matter how minor, let me know. Push the button, but do not speak. I will respond when we're in a safe location. One little action can mess the mission up entirely."

The spies nodded in unison. Some bitterly stared at the little device in their hands. Others stood up, prepared to leave the ship. Blending in would be no problem. Not like anything they haven't done before. Watching was the easy part, and most of them appeared glad to do it rather than be on the infiltration team. They filed out a few at a time to not draw suspicion. A minute later, the next few would go. Then the next.

Talia sidled up next to Cassian, speaking low enough to where she could barely be heard, "Are you sure Marek will be here?" How could they trust someone like him? He led the Senators to their doom. Granted, it was unknowingly, but still. How could they be sure he wasn't doing the same to them?

"Yes." Hope kept him there. Hope sprung forth, fighting off the sense that they were walking into a trap. Capturing spies that lie high up in the chain of command could really screw the Rebellion over. He leaned down a bit, keeping his tone low and calm, "Are you having second thoughts?"

Talia looked away, her brown eyes trained forward. She straightened her posture; a switch in her mind flipped to Imperial standards. "No. Someone from the dark side averting to the light is unheard of. I'm skeptical."

Bright sunlight shone down onto the crew as they walked down the ramp. The hangar buzzed with life. Senators, dignitaries, troopers, and high end civilians entered and left Coruscant. Cassian nearly forgot how ridiculous the fashion was, compared to everyday people on the lower end of the payscale. Bright colors, weirdly shaped hats, tacky dresses and suits...He didn't miss it at all. His dark eyes flickered through the crowd, taking note of all of the exits. And I was skeptical of the Jedi, Sith, and the force. Yet here we are, going to fight against it. "If you can't trust him, trust me. I'll get everyone out of here."

"In one piece, I hope," Talia teased, sending a sly smile his way, and subtly elbowing his arm. Cassian snorted, a grin creeping onto his lips. If they weren't on a mission, he'd send back some snarky reply, or even elbow her back playfully. But...this was reality. Time for business.

When the team gathered on the steps of the Imperial Palace, they had to strain their necks just to get the full sight of the front. It was ridiculously massive, created in polished gray-green stone. Talia could've sworn she saw mirrored crystals embedded into the stone, illuminating the Palace in the sun's rays. Many towers jutted out from the palace, causing it to appear a chaotic, rich mess. It'd be impossible to guess how many floors the palace actually contained.

Getting through the front had been the easy part. As they walked on, the team examined just how massive the first floor was alone. The Grand Corridor wrapped around the entire complex, giving enough room to house a whole hangar in some floral areas. Rooms lined the walls on each side, no doubt leading into meeting rooms, chambers, auditoriums, and more used by politicians. Black stone and red tinted windows lined the walls in between the gorgeous Ch'halla trees. Amongst all the people and bustling footsteps, the vibrations caused the trees to change color. Upon appearance alone, one could get lost in the sea of rooms and people. There were no signs pointing in directions of specific rooms, turbolifts, or areas in general. Everyone went their own way and pushed their way through.

Once they cut into one of the less populated hallways, Talia let her eyes wander around at the tall structures and rich atmosphere. "Is this what they meant by maze? This place is…insane." The Ch'hala trees around them danced in the vibrations of their footsteps and words uttered. Cerulean. Magenta. A few colors from other star systems Talia couldn't name on the top of her head.

The trees were definitely gorgeous…but she couldn't help wondering what they were for. So many along the halls. Surely, not all of them could be décor.

Cassian responded dryly, "I don't know." Only a few more halls until we meet the infamous Starkiller… His mind rode along that thought, until something else popped to mind. He thought it ridiculous at first when he originally heard it from a spy. Seeing the Imperial Palace now gave him the impression it was true. "There was a rumor where a receptionist died at her desk. Didn't find her body 'til a year later."

KayTuesso threw in his own thoughts before he could even think to stop, "We'd be lucky if we suffered the same fate."

Halron side-eyed Kaytoo, while calmly walking behind Cassian and Talia. He grumbled for a moment and loosened his dark tunic's collar. Attempting to ignore the droid's ill words, he brought the conversation back, "Must be compensating for something. Huge ego, and this? This is too much."

"This is much better than the hovel you are living in." Kaytoo couldn't seem to help himself. Despite not being able to fix him and his erratic behavior, Cassian couldn't help but to chuckle. Maybe keeping KayTuesso wouldn't be so bad after all.

Taking it to heart, Halron's face scrunched up in anger. "Someone-"

The group turned the next corner; Talia's eyes immediately fell onto someone admiring the art work on the wall. With low words, she whispered out loud, "Is that him?" Cassian nodded, and led them to their informant.

All eyes ended up on the mysterious man. Brown cloth covered his entire body, matching the metal chest plate and gray wrappings around his wrists. His hand rubbed his extremely short dark hair, nearly massaging the oncoming headache he appeared to have. The man's oak shaded eyes landed on them, seemingly having to do a double take. "Is this…everyone?" Cassian nodded once more. The lack of words arrived as a cold front, despite the collaborative situation. Galen Marek raised an eyebrow, his words cloaked as sheer stability, "I thought there would be more of you."

All of them looked up at the colorfully abstract Kashyyyk painting. Upon further examination, the canvas appeared to be bark from an actual tree. No doubt from the original homeworld. Cassian glanced over at Marek, who stared at the art with a sense of ease. Almost as if he were at home. Keeping his voice hushed, Cassian replied, "Can't risk everyone going in at once."

Cassian held out his hand, even as screams rose from his inner self. How many rebels has this man killed? How many innocents have been slaughtered? Right now, none of that mattered. They were going to rescue the only hope the Rebellion had. It didn't make up for Starkiller's mistakes, but it paved the way for a brighter future. Cassian released a held breath and finally introduced himself, "Captain."

Galen studied his rebel counterpart as he shook his hand. "No name?"

"Safer that way."

"What are we up against?" Talia questioned. Right into the nitty gritty of things. Couldn't let the Empire get the upper hand because of time. She watched Cassian and Galen intensely, trying to figure out what plans they had in their minds.

The truth almost made Starkiller chuckle. The rage he felt for his old master contained it. His tone darkened as his eyes glanced away, "More than you'd like to know."

Without missing a beat, Kaytoo threw in, "That's reassuring."

"The maze is the easiest part. Without maps, the Imperials begging the Emperor for folly deals would never make it to the chamber." Galen clenched his fist, the veins protruding his skin due to his strength. Vader set his future in jeopardy. Left him for dead. Threatened the love of his life. All for what? Self gain. Trust for the most corrupt man in the galaxy. It was all useless in the end. Galen's jaw tightened, and he nearly spoke through his teeth, "This building's layout is engrained into my mind."

The group followed Starkiller through what seemed to be endless hallways. Dead end after dead end, they couldn't catch a break. No matter where they turned, people were there. Workers. Senators. Highly hailed people of Coruscant. Going to such meaningless places like restaurants and stores within the grand palace.

Supporting the Empire felt so right to the people who lived there. How could they not feel oppressed? Distraught? Morally corrupt? Questions piled on in Cassian's mind as they walked blindly through. Without freedom, all the people had was fear. That was not a way to live.

Any rebel that had previously seen the palace didn't know what a horror show it actually was. They were only in the first half of the palace, not to mention the first floor. The group passed three hangars alone on the way to their destination. Kaytoo mapped the place out in his mind as they went, watching for any items in particular to associate with.

Breaking the horribly tense silence, Cassian spoke as he trailed close to Starkiller, "Where are the Senators?"

Pushing the question aside, Galen directed his comment to his communications device, "Juno, do you see anything?" No answer. Buzzing and scratchy feed from the other end. Galen pushed the button again, his hopes dying out. "Juno?" A sigh left his lips as he shoved the device in his pocket. "There must be some type of jammer system here. The Senators are most likely in the Emperor's throne room."

"This day just keeps getting better and better," Talia mumbled to herself more than anyone. No communications and they were about to be face-to-face with the galaxy's most dangerous duo? Her nerves stood on end, yet she pushed herself to keep going. She maintained her composed Imperial standard posture and followed suit behind the two leaders of the mission.

Halron's fingers twitched towards his gun every time he passed an Imperial officer. He let out a shallow breath and asked, "What's the plan now, exactly?"

"Star-" Captain Andor stopped and corrected himself, "Galen, do you know what the Emperor's chamber looks like?" He never thought he'd hear those words leave his own mouth, especially to a force user, no less. Hell, Cassian never truly believed in any of that until he saw one with his own eyes. Yes, Talia said she used to be married to one, but these days, force wielders weren't running out and about in front of the galaxy. Not since the Emperor killed them all, anyway.

"Unfortunately, no." Starkiller abruptly stopped for a second, his head turning slightly to the right. His eyes closed, and when they opened, the pure fire rose again in his eyes. "We're close. I can sense Vader nearby." Then, it snuffed out like a blown out candle. For the first time, a smile rose on Galen's lips. "Right about now, Juno would say may the force be with us."

The Emperor's throne room chilled the Senators and Master Kota, embracing them in the clammy hands of death. Goosebumps formed on their skins, but they held their heads up high, despite the grim situation. Their knees embedded themselves into the cold marble stairs as they watched the Emperor perched on his throne in front of them.

The massive curved walls in the antechamber held numerous stations that stormtroopers occupied. Three giant circular windows adorned each side of the throne, their web-like structure reminding them of the jagged lines of an Imperial Star Destroyer. More stations were placed around the throne, holding the members of the Emperor's Royal Guard.

Then there he was. The Emperor himself, sitting on his throne all high and mighty, as if he had already won the battle. Adorned in his black robes, the Senators could barely see his scarred face. Words left the Emperor's throat, mangled and scratchy, "You are all traitors to the Empire. You will be interrogated. Tortured. You will give me the names of your friends and allies. And then you will die."

Bail Organa, who stared their supreme leader in the eye, spoke first in an eloquent fashion, "Our deaths will only rally others."

Mon Mothma followed suit, her voice calm and collected, "Hate with an iron fist shall not make us crumble." Nothing would stop the Rebellion. Even if they died, it would go on. Without a doubt.

"The Rebellion is much bigger than just us. Hope will persevere," Garm Bel Iblis finished, fear holding his entire mind, but not his body. Showing fear would only make the Emperor happy. That was something worth avoiding at all costs.

The Emperor almost chuckled. Poor fools. Hopeful as ever as they stared death in the face. "You truly do not know where you stand. Hope will always deteriorate, as it already has." Nothing. No movements. Not one Senator budged. Oh, he'll make them crack. "Your very public and painful executions will serve as an example to the rest of the galaxy."

An alarm rang sharply, causing the guests in the room to flinch.

Master Kota grinned, his scarred eyes staring at nothing in particular. White hair fell around his face. Marek was nearby. He could sense it. "There may be a rebellion yet."

A blue display screen popped up on the table next to the Emperor. A holographic image showed Starkiller approaching the Supplicants Waiting Hall just before the Emperor's throne room.

The Emperor's right hand curled up, meticulous thoughts filling his mind. Anger, nor worry, pierced the serious expression he held. His yellow eyes turned to his apprentice, "Lord Vader, deal with the boy."

The turbolift at the end of the hall opened up, revealing Lord Vader himself. Light shined on his black metal armor. The menacingly tall man exited the lift, his heavy breathing filling the silent room. In a flash, his red lightsaber flickered on as he watched his old apprentice. "I've trained you well, but you still have much to learn."

Starkiller bit back all of the things he could've said. All the things he wanted to say. None of them would hurt Lord Vader. It would only be used against Galen, rather than help. Calmly, Galen stated in spite, "You have nothing left to teach me."

Starkiller ran forward as he turned on his blue lightsaber, and attacked Vader. With every movement, he poured his hate and anger into it. The clashes erupted from the end of the hall, as if it were some massive light fight on the battlefield. Quick movements. Left. Left. Right. Galen screamed out in distress of his emotions, but fought back twice as hard.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Bzzt.

The two dueled as if they had put together a dance choreography. The movements were swift. Pure. Full of emotions. Betrayal. Hatred. Anger. Annoyance. Pain. So much pain. Each strike, each cry Galen let out, expressed all of that. Darth Vader countered all of it with precise moves, as if he were two steps ahead the entire time.

Hiding behind a massive column on one side of the hall, Cassian whispered to Talia, "Your husband did that?"

"Vader is skilled. My husband could not defeat him in battle, but yes. He did." She watched for a moment longer before resuming her hiding position. Seeing it brought back too many harsh memories. "The other Miralukas would not teach me. I'm not force sensitive by any means. The force is all around us, yet they refused me teachings of even the simplest of fighting. Some purist bumblefluff if you ask me."

The fight continued. Slowly, but surely, the movements got sloppier. Less articulate. The two resorted to using the force to throw any object they could at each other as a distraction. Lightsabers flung out, clashing against one another in an ear-piercing noise. Starkiller pushed forward, countering in moves Lord Vader hadn't thought of.

Halron nudged both of the rebels with his elbow. His face contorted into a worried expression. "What are we going to do if Starkiller loses?"

Kaytoo was the first to speak up, "His chances for success are forty-point-two percent. By the way he is fighting, though, I'd like to be proven wrong."

Right. Because that's what they all needed to hear. Talia glanced at KayTuesso for a short second before she answered, "Vader can sense us. I'd say get the hell out of here."

Over Cassian's dead body. We came here on a mission, and we sure as hell aren't going to abandon it. He pointed at both Halron and Talia as anger rose in his tone, "We're not leaving the Senators."

Halron watched the captain, looking for any signs of a tail. There was no way he was telling the truth while they were up against not one, but two force users that stood between them and the Senators. "You'd rather die than help the rebellion live another day?"

Cassian's lips twitched as he held himself back from snarling at his team. The audacity these people had to come all this way only to leave baffled him. "The Rebellion will not last without the money, soldiers, or supplies these Senators have graciously given us from the purity of their hearts. No matter how much hope and dedication we have, we need them."

Talia stared into Cassian's eyes, digesting all of what he said. He never answered if he was willing to die, but his actions spoke louder than words. The mission, if anything, will go sour. Cassian would not be on the sharp end of the stick when it happens. Talia would make sure of that. She agreed, "I'll be thinking of a distraction then."

"You are not going to be part of it," Cassian emphasized. He knew that look she had all too well. She had it before back on the X-Wing retrieval mission. Considering how much he worried then, a fear settled in his chest about how much that worry would be now if the same thing were to happen again.

Darth Vader abruptly force pushed Starkiller back, causing him to stumble near the other rebels. With enough time on his hands, he retreated into the turbolift. Galen broke out into a run towards the turbolift, causing the rebels to follow suit. Once it came back down, they all piled in against the walls, leaving Starkiller in the middle. Sweat fell off of Galen's forehead, and his eyes screamed pure hatred for his old master. His composure was riled up, muscles flexing as he got into an offense position, ready to spring out at any moment. A chill ran up Cassian's spine as he observed all of this.

When the turbolift opened up, Starkiller jumped into the antechamber. The Senators appeared frightened at the sudden outburst, yet the Emperor grinned. The rebels observed and held back in the turbolift until the time was right.

Darth Vader ignited his lightsaber once more, defending himself from an oncoming attack. Only, his reflexes weren't quick enough anymore. Starkiller slashed a good chunk of his master's chest armor off in one swift move. Vader countered with an attack to Galen's neck, but ended up clashing lightsabers. Both of their breathing became more ragged as the fight went on.

Vader initiated a swipe at Starkiller's feet, only to be retaliated with a force pull. The Sith was caught off guard, giving Galen enough time to hit his leg. Vader's breath shallowed as he fell. Starkiller kept taking shots. One at Vader's hand. Another at his other leg. Arm. Chest. It wasn't until the lightsaber fell out of the dark lord's hand that Galen stopped. The edge of his lightsaber was held to his old master's neck.

Starkiller stood over his previous master, anger flowing through his veins. His hands twitched, causing the lightsaber to barely miss the fragments of Vader's armor. Heavy breaths and his emotions clouded the noise in the room. With his eyebrows furrowed, Galen's eyes slowly darkened.

The thought of killing Darth Vader filled his mind.