Disclaimer: I don't own SW.


"The lab results will come in soon. You will be released shortly afterwards," Owen recalled the officer telling him.

Three hours later, it irked Owen how he didn't recognize the man's bored tone, but he could do nothing aside from lie down and wait. His cellmate didn't agree, pacing around and asking, "How much longer are they going to take?"

Owen faced the dull grey wall, having seen enough faces from when he had been quickly questioned at the front desk. Human hands sadly shook him for the fifth time. "Owen! Owen, this is no time to sleep!" he heard.

"Yes, this is," Owen grumbled. "There's nothing else we can do, Beru."

"But we can't stay here forever! We need to get word out. Ani's a Jedi, now. He's gotta have some security clearance!"

Owen had already told the officer. A name like "Anakin" would stand out in the Core, but Owen hadn't seen that officer since he left their cell. Then again, he never mentioned Anakin was a Jedi. Of all the careers in life, why did Anakin choose that one?

"Just get some sleep," Owen said.

The bed squished under Beru. "I can't… I'm worried. We came all this way just to get thrown in here."

Owen couldn't deny it. After months to gather money, weeks to find a ship, and days of hopping from one station to the next to get to Coruscant, he and Beru had been into the nearest detention center. According to security, they were "carrying potential sources of biological weaponry to be used against the Republic." In hindsight, Owen shouldn't have let Beru buy black melons from that Trandoshan back home.

The door lowered, letting in the fruity smell. Now with no way to sleep, Owen sat up for the newcomer entering the cell. Instead of the man who imprisoned him and Beru, it was a young woman. Her dark blue uniform and tanned skin gave her a calm gaze which she leveled on the two civilians. "Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun?" she asked.

"Yes?" Beru squeaked, and Owen almost did too upon meeting the strange woman's brown eyes and sharp features.

"Please, come with me."

Though glad to be leaving the cell, Owen did so with a hand over his nose. He also kept himself and Beru a safe distance behind the woman. She couldn't have been much older than himself, maybe mid-twenties in galactic standard years, but she carried a level of danger down to the short dark braid dangling over her shoulder. The blaster pistol on her hip especially, which Owen barely distinguished from the long corridor of prison cells.

"Excuse me, but where are we going?" Beru asked from behind. Her words bounced with her twin blond tails.

"You'll see," the woman said upon arriving at the corridor's exit.

Owen almost stopped there. In the adjacent chamber, the officer who threw him and Beru in a cell turned from the long line in front of his desk. Owen barely heard him or the woman over the grumbling soon-to-be detainees, the aliens outnumbering the humans by a dozen.

"Let's see," he eventually said. "Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun, yes? From Tatooine?" The duo stepped forward, and the officer's widened eyes raised from his computer terminal. "Ah, yes. I see I had yet to put in a request to test your belongings."

Owen stayed silent to avoid any more trouble. However, Beru had no such restraint. "I'm sure you're busy, but can you tell us why we're here?"

"Beru, we can't–" Owen began but Beru cut him off.

"No, I want to know what this is for! It is another test? Or did you guys already check our ration bars to see if we're 'harboring any potential biological weapons?'"

"Beru!"

"Ahem," said the woman. "Officer, if you would don't mind…"

The officer shifted awkwardly before holding out a datapad. "Your release forms are on here. Provide your print and you're free to go."

Owen and Beru blinked at him. "Really? This isn't some trick?" came from the latter.

"This is no trick," the officer said a little too quickly. "Coruscant Security Force apologizes for the inconvenience. We will make sure it doesn't happen again. Your possessions are with your transport. Please provide your print."

After exchanging glances and doing so, Owen and Beru followed the woman again. Some of the aliens they passed grumbled in different tongues and tones, but all could be surmised as: "Hmph, humans."

The fruity smell kept Owen's concerns from the aliens. He noticed it before the officers threw him and Beru into their cell. It grew stronger the further they went down the corridor.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," said the woman as she led them to the elevators at the end. "The clones made everyone here a little antsy these days. Feel free to put in a complaint." At that, she quietly added, "Everyone does, anyway."

"We'll think about it, thanks," Owen said before eying the woman's blaster again.

The woman noticed Owen's look. "You don't have to worry. I'm your tour guide. I'm not taking you prisoner." She stepped into an arriving elevator. "At least, not yet."

Owen hid his distaste for the joke and the smell, the latter of which was even stronger in the elevator. Beru, being Beru, snorted a giggle and asked about it on the way down. Owen didn't listen to the woman's explanation. Stars, he'd take cramped cargo ships over whatever the techs were pumping into the air.

"Um, thank you," Beru eventually said. "Sorry if I was a bit… well, you know."

The woman smiled. "It's no trouble. Believe me, those cells can drive anyone crazy if you put them in there long enough."

"Still, we do appreciate it, miss…?"

The woman stood to attention. "Lieutenant Kara Lok, currently part of Vice-President Organa's security detail." She relaxed. "It's no big deal, really."

Owen's stare grew pensive. What would a Vice-President want with–in the officer's words–a pair of Outer Rims hicks? Unless…

The elevator dinged at its stop. Lieutenant Lok stepped out into a hangar bay, smiling. "Now, why don't we get started on that tour?"


Coruscant was unlike Owen had ever seen. The millions upon millions of lights he had seen from orbit became skyscrapers. Their chrome sheen made Coruscant brighter under its lonesome sun. The same sun blotted out the orbital station where Owen had been held and shone on the window of Owen's ride.

In its reflection, he saw Beru glued to her own window. "I can see why Ani wanted to come here," Beru whispered some ten minutes after they entered the atmosphere in a shuttle.

Owen begrudgingly agreed. Like he heard, Coruscant was one big cityscape. The shuttle zoomed over the many sunlit plazas stretching across the horizon. Must've been one of several layers, if the rumors were correct. Owen caught the whiff of industrial chemicals, especially in the shadows of the great buildings. The scent, and the people, became more noticeable the further the shuttle descended.

"... and on your right, you'll see the entrance to the lower levels," Lok said from the pilot upfront. "We'll be coming over to the Senate Tower in a few minutes." She paused when a couple of shadows appeared on either side of the shuttle. In the following buzz from the controls, Lok fingered a button on it. "Speaking of which… This is Lieutenant Lok. I'm bringing the general's guests as requested. Transmitting landing code."

"The general?" Beru said over the conversation, but Owen had an idea whom the lieutenant was referring to.

"... Understood. Switching to auto-pilot." With that, Lok fiddled with the controls again before whirling to her guests. "Like I said, folks here are a little on edge, but there's nothing to worry about. It's standard procedure for anyone who enters the Senate Tower. The gentlemen in the starfighters flanking us will be here to make sure nothing… unfortunate happens to you."

"Has anything 'unfortunate' happened?" Beru asked Lok, and Owen again had an idea when he eyed the fighter flying by his window.

"Not yet, but you never know. Coruscant is full of surprises, believe me. It can happen to anyone, even guests of a general."

Owen kept staring at the fighter now flying ahead while its twin flew behind the shuttle. An unaware Beru said, "Um, I don't think we know a general. We were asking for an Anakin Skywalker. Is he on Coruscant?"

"Captain Skywalker?" Lok asked. "I'm sorry, but you've missed him and the general. They've been gone for a couple months now. You must've seen the news on the HoloNet?"

"We don't have it. In fact, we don't get much news from our part of the Outer Rim."

"It isn't that far, is it?"

"Far enough from 'civilized society,'" Owen said and thanked the following silence.

Beru ended it, saying, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to stay for some time. We can always see the sights. Owen here has talked about that. Right, Owen? Maybe we can see the Jedi Temple. I think Ani mentioned that once or twice in his transmissions."

"'A-Ani?'" Lok said with a snort. Clearing her throat never hid her chuckle. "Sorry, sorry. Just never knew Skywalker had a pet name."

"Do you know him?"

Lok's sputtering lips smirked. "You could say that. Him and General Kenobi."

Kenobi. "Figures it'd be him," Owen muttered under his breath.

"What, Owen?" Beru asked.

"Nothing." Owen looked to Lok. "So, why are we heading to the Senate Tower exactly?"

"Oh, nothing," Lok said. "Just Captain Skywalker's fiance is there."

Owen sat straight up in his seat. He barely saw Beru mouth the word, as if trying to confirm the truth herself. Owen himself had little time to process it, not when he soon noticed the large building in the distance and the large crowd at its front door.


Another day. Another protest. Padme thought she had grown used to them after living on Coruscant for almost three years. Then again, she had never been so close to one before today.

A couple floors above and to the right of the protest, Padme did not need the Jedi's powers to feel the anger and frustration. Letters written in Basic and other languages lit up across the silver-plated courtyard in front of the Senate Tower, proclaiming words Padme had heard over the Holonet many times. She even heard a few from outside.

"NO MORE WAR!"

"JEDI ARE WAR MONGERS!"

"BRING OUR SOLDIERS HOME!"

The voice beside Padme cut through them all and the whirls of surrounding transports. "Your highness," said Captain Panaka. "You should come back inside. This hangar is not safe."

Padme turned on the hangar bay's floor, and the sight of shuttles and hovercraft stood out in the chrome background. "I can assure you we are safe enough, captain," she said before holding out a datapad. "Now, if you could, please send these supplies over to our people. There are some extra rations, so distribute them to the Bpfasshis. They could use it as much as us."

"Very well, your highness," Panaka said and accepted the job with the slightest frown.

Padme hid her own frown, not bothering to watch Panaka depart. She more often than not debated with the captain, from rations for their fellow Nubians to finding spaces 'safe from the rabble.' Even the man's uniform matched more like a Coruscanti official than a member of Naboo's security force. "Too much time with Tarkin," Padme murmured to herself.

Her remaining thoughts billowed with her dark hair and purple dress from the arriving shuttle. Its sleek frame touched the pad Padme stood close to. Her surprise met that of the man and woman following the more familiar face off the ramp. "Lieutenant Lok," Padme greeted with a slight bow of her head, per the custom of her people.

The lieutenant nodded, per her own training. "May I introduce to you Padme Amidala of Naboo. Your highness, these are Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun."

Behind Lok, the one named Beru blurted out, "'Highness?' Ani's getting hitched to a queen?"

"I am not a queen," Padme said curtly at first. "And 'Ani?'"

She tried not to ignore the following ramble, but she did, lost in her thoughts. Were this 'Owen and Beru' really the two Kenobi spoke of? Neither he nor Anakin mentioned them before. Then again, the pair before Padme were odd, from the way they–or at least one–spoke. If the name 'Ani' indicated anything, they also knew embarrassing stories. Kenobi was a secretive man, so there was no way to truly tell.

"There is no need to thank me," Padme said humbly to the grateful Beru. "You are General Kenobi's guests. I am merely here to welcome you."

"Well, uh, we humbly accept your welcome. Is that how you say it?"

Beru's man, Owen, broke his tired silence. "Beru, we should really go."

Lok agreed, her face growing serious. "He's right. Things might get ugly soon."

The rising shouts proved as much. Padme too spotted some of the blue Senate Guards meeting the protestors' putrid colors. "Yes," she said with a similar worry and led everyone away. "There should be a safer place by the–"

Suddenly, it came from below. Flash.

Padme turned from it. Lok's shout went deaf, unlike her firm grip on Padme's shoulder.

Again, flash.

Padme found the shaking floor with Owen, Beru, and their savior. Metal slamming into metal followed. Smoke clouded the red emergency lights above. Not the klaxons or distant screams, as Padme heard after uncovering her ears.

Helping her up, the lieutenant asked, "Are you alright?"

Padme nodded. "The guests," she said after a tiny cough, "are they–?"

"Still alive!" said Owen, standing up with Beru. The pair's ragged clothing made them blend in the smoke. "Beru, are you alright?"

"What, Owen? Did you say something?" the tiny woman cried. Her hand went to her popping ear. "Ow! Nevermind, I'm good."

Padme wished the same could be said for the hangar, let alone the shuttle once carrying her guests. It would have been enough if it was on fire and had not tumbled into another, folding its raised wings in on itself. Men and droids rushed into the hangar to put out the flaming wreck and the melted edges of the blast doors too late to fully close. "Your highness!" came from among those same men, running towards Padme.

She left Lieutenant Lok's grasp and stumbled into Panaka's, happy to see him for once. "Your highness, come. We have med droids on stand-by," he said over the noise. His face may have blended with the smoke, but his seriousness shone through. "You two, scan her highness for any injuries then get her to a medical facility."

"Can you bring one over here?" asked the lieutenant, now beside Owen's smoking robes and the wincing Beru. "I think these two need some help."

"Her highness' safety is my utmost concern."

"And these two are for me. General Kenobi's orders."

Padme ignored Panaka's murmur of "cursed Jedi" to address him. "I am well, captain. Please attend to my companions. They may require it more than I," she said. Her stare hardened after a moment of nothing. "Captain…"

A second later, the two bulky and blocky med droids passed her, and Panaka turned his frown to a nearby technician. Padme took the moment to relieve her feet of her broken high heels. Across the same floor, its heat fading to the activated extinguishers, she spotted Lok by the hangar's entrance. "Oh, shavit!" the lieutenant said aloud, drawing a worrying Padme over to her side. "Your highness, don't look–!"

Having done so, Padme buckled. The activated force field couldn't prevent her horror from falling into the smoking craters below. Scattered in or around them were the surviving dozens, if not some hundred, of the original thousands of protestors. Padme didn't need to be close for her heart to seize up at their drowned cries. Her mind lit up with images of day fire and ash in the skies of her homeworld. Of…

The lieutenant, her voice and touch unusually gentle, brought Padme out. She didn't hear a word. She only turned away, unable to do anything now as on the day she lost her home.


AN: Pretty much a preview for an unorthodox rewrite of the SW prequels I've had for a while. Pretty much might be the only SW project I'll ever work on, but it will be a long time before I put this fic up. Until then, take care.

Raika out.