Hey, everybody! I would say happy All Saint's Day, but I said it yesterday, lol; I didn't expect to update so quickly! I'd actually written this as part of the previous chapter, but it kind of put too many things together in my opinion, so I left it off. This chapter is shorter than most of the others, but it's also the halfway point of the story, so I guess that's all right. I'll let you guys decide, haha. Enjoy!

The bridge of the Liberator was relatively small compared to destroyers, but it served its purpose. There were half as many people staffing it, but they all did their jobs diligently. Every single person on the ship had enlisted with the sole purpose of bringing the Jedi back to the galaxy in full force.

Rahm Kota turned away from the bridge to face a small holoprojector by the wall. A commander stood there waiting for him. He approached the commander, his mind full of thoughts about the fleet's mission. For over twenty years he had remained hidden; he had been in a large battle in the Outer Rim during Order 66, and due to its size, he had to include clones in the operation. When the execution order came through, Kota had sensed the danger, but many of his militia had been killed. To this day the one decision Kota regretted was waiting to regroup; the Empire had been very weak during its conception. The war had torn apart both Republic and Confederacy, and if Kota had struck Coruscant within a few weeks of Order 66 it probably would have fallen. Instead, he had been cautious; he had gathered what little militia he'd had left, and they'd remained in hiding for almost a year trying to get more people until he thought they'd be ready to test the waters. By then it had been too late.

But he hadn't been twiddling his thumbs over the past twenty-one years after that, either. Kota had spent his time amassing an armada, learning the enemy's strengths and weaknesses, figuring out how Palpatine had managed to dupe the entire galaxy. He also searched for other Jedi and had formed a relatively large group; some of the Jedi were with his fleet, while others remained hidden, working as spies or contacts for the Alliance. Over the years Kota had done what he could to make up for his serious miscalculation. He'd at least come to the conclusion that Palpatine ultimately was the only Sith Lord – any other Force user under the Empire was simply that: a Force user. They didn't have proper Sith training; they were just taught how to kill and utilize the Force to do so.

And then Vader came into the picture.

Rahm didn't know what to make of Darth Vader. The man's title itself denoted that he was a Sith, but from what Rahm had gathered about him, he wasn't so sure. The man's battle record was without a doubt formidable, but it also didn't seem to fit within what Kota would expect from a practitioner of the Dark Side. Every move Vader made was calculated; there was never a report of him doing some random act of violence. When Vader did unspeakable atrocities, they were always responses to something. Sith were known for taking pleasure in the suffering of others, so Rahm would expect Vader to initiate such scenarios, but he'd never found any record of it. Vader had been within the galaxy's notice for nine years now; his initial appearances were patchy at best – the records would only mention him briefly and then never cite him again. It wasn't until about four years ago that he really came into prominence. But in all that time, he'd been acting as a lackey to Palpatine rather than an ambitious sadist. It wasn't typical of a Sith apprentice.

No matter. Despite his confusion about the man, Kota still knew that Vader was his most powerful opponent, and his biggest obstacle between him and Palpatine. If Rahm made enough racket taking out Imperial outposts, it would attract some attention. Rahm had been biding his time, but once he saw the Alliance taking hit after hit he'd decided to enter the fray; it allowed the Rebels to catch their breath, and it would hopefully attract Vader – Kota wanted to be the one to defeat him.

Once he reached the holoprojector, the seasoned Jedi glanced over the information presented. They'd already taken out four outposts and the fleet that had gone to Yavin 4; if they kept to their course they'd make a steady path towards Coruscant—or Imperial Center as those murglaks now called the place.

"General, we don't have enough firepower to take Coruscant," the commander said, noting the planet on which Kota's gaze was transfixed. "Will the Rebels be ready by then?"

"I know some other allies apart from the Rebels." Kota replied with a smile.

"But Gen. Ti said she was going to stay in hiding so she could train the Padawans," the commander shook his head.

"Master Windu is more than ready to join us with his fleet." Kota said.

The commander raised his eyebrows. "Master Windu managed to scrape a fleet together?"

Kota laughed at the man's surprise. "You underestimate Windu's ability to rally soldiers, commander."

"I suppose," the commander replied. "Well, general, if we can rendezvous with Gen. Windu, we'll be ready to take Coruscant within a few weeks."

Kota nodded. Perfect. They would hit every Imperial post on the way until they reached the Expansion Region and then they would go quiet; hopefully they would attract Vader by that point. Once the Sith apprentice was disposed of, Coruscant would be ripe for the taking.

The Empire would soon fall.

String music echoed throughout the large ballroom as Tarkin glanced at the inhabitants. It was rather like the party for the commencement of the Festival of the Stars, but there were key differences. First of all—and most importantly to Tarkin—there were no traitors in the room. Mothma was now in prison, and any other senators in the room had Alliance leanings at the worst; none of them were foolish or brave enough to do much more than complain. Many of the senators were in their home sectors by this point, but those who were the most concerned with power and prestige still attended the parties thrown at the palace, and that was why Tarkin didn't concern himself. Most of the senators who were ambitious and selfish enough to be here were equally idiotic; it took a truly conniving and clever individual to make their way to the top, and anyone so obviously desperate to kiss up to the emperor would not be in that category. The only reason Tarkin was an exception to the rule was because he lived here. Under normal circumstances he'd be touring his oversector to ensure there weren't any problems, but since he had the entire military on his shoulders at the moment, that changed the circumstances.

But it also allowed for many opportunities.

While Tarkin didn't like having so much scrutiny on him from the emperor, being in constant contact with the top military officials had its perks. He had innumerable excuses to converse with all the grand admirals, generals, and moffs. He'd already made quite the beneficial friendship with Grand Admiral Kepp while discussing the Rebel base on Yavin 4 – Kepp was just as convinced as Tarkin that he'd made the right move about the Alliance and that the error was entirely Ozzel's (who was thankfully no longer a problem). Tarkin would also have the opportunity to speak to Grand Admiral Pen, who was among the most reclusive of his circle—and who was in charge of most of the fleets in the Core Worlds, including those protecting Imperial Center. He would be a valuable ally, especially since Tarkin may have made an enemy of the head of security forces for the planet during the last party. Nevertheless, his error of judgment from then wasn't a concern – once he obtained some more power he could easily replace the man.

Tarkin eyed everyone in the room. The music created a strange dichotomy to everything: its tranquil tones contrasted sharply against the backstabbing attendants and the raucous partying going on outside the palace. The windows and walls were sound proof, so no one inside heard anything from outside, but simply looking outside was an indication that there was no peace out there – speeders were flying everywhere dropping so much confetti that it looked like it was raining (which was thankfully not the case – the weather division always ensured a dry beginning to the Festival of the New Year for convenience's sake), and the crowds were so large it looked like the ground had a moving carpet; every level of Imperial Center was completely packed with beings. No doubt there was loud party music and announcers bellowing cheers over the raucous crowds, as well.

The ballroom itself wasn't too different from the last party; it still had its famous enormous floating chandeliers, the arrangement of the furniture was the same as always—a throne for Palpatine sat at the head table, elevated above the rest of the room and surrounded by banners bearing the Imperial insignia, and refreshments were lined along tables by the wall sized mirrors, lounge seats were near the windows, and the center of the room was left open for dancing—but there were the additions of holographic images that displayed the Empire's biggest triumphs of the year.

Eventually Tarkin noticed Grand Adm. Pen and smiled, making his way over to the man. Tonight was going to be a good night.

The chilly evening air whipped between what was left of the destroyed buildings of the colony. Dead leaves slid across the ground as the wind blew them, making gentle scraping noises as they moved. Excited shouts overwhelmed everything, though, as the relief workers and refugees alike celebrated an end to the crisis. The slaves had since turned themselves in and were given food and medical supplies, and they were welcomed into the site warily but nevertheless without any sort of hostility. Despite the earlier disaster of the day, everything was at least ending well.

Padmé sighed, wrapping herself more tightly in her shawl. She had been wandering the site for almost an hour now. After she had returned with Rekk she had taken him straight to the medical tent, and then she had helped Iena organize all the supplies and reestablish contact with the secondary and tertiary colony sites. Once the slaves had arrived, Padmé had ensured a peaceful negotiation. Now she really had nothing to do except watch everyone prepare the New Year celebrations; most of the galaxy put on HoloNet feeds of the Coruscant Countdown on Imperial Center, and the countdown would be beginning in a little over an hour. It seemed like everything was resolved, but… she hadn't seen Darth Vader since the incident in the morning.

Sighing, Padmé sat on an empty crate, thinking over the situation. She hadn't really given Vader much consideration beyond brooding over what had happened on her way back to the colony with Rekk. Since then she'd been so busy that she hadn't even noticed Vader's absence until the past hour. Padmé wasn't sure if he was somewhere in the colony and she just hadn't seen him or if he was at one of the other sites. He'd said he'd follow her back.

A little worried, Padmé went to Iena. "Hey, have you seen my friend? The one who came with me?"

Iena paused, considering the question, and then shook her head. "No, sorry. You can ask around, though; I'm sure someone's seen him."

Padmé nodded and left the main tent. She had asked around a little, but she hadn't had any luck. Vader wasn't causing trouble somewhere, was he? All the slaves had arrived in one piece, so at least he hadn't gone on some killing rampage. So where was he?

She finally got her answer when she spoke to a relief worker who had escorted the slaves into the colony. He claimed he saw someone who matched Vader's description just outside the perimeter. Padmé immediately entered the woods, holding her blaster at the ready since it was growing dark; she didn't want to be caught off guard while wandering the woods at night alone.

Eventually it grew so dark that she had to activate a glow stick. Padmé began to worry, both for her own safety and Vader's. She didn't even know if Vader was still in the woods, and at this point she might get lost. Turning back towards the colony, she sighed and walked carefully, her cold fingers tightly squeezing her blaster.

As Padmé caught sight of the perimeter, she suddenly recognized the Sith Lord in the distance. He was entering the colony from a different direction. Padmé ran to him.

"Milord, where have you been?" she asked.

"I was salvaging the other shuttles at the secondary site." Vader answered, not looking at her. He was his usual calm self; it was almost as if he didn't remember her anger from that morning. Or he didn't care. Honestly, she wasn't going to apologize for her reaction, because she was still convinced that he had attacked too soon. Nevertheless, she held back her anger; by this point she was more frustrated with the situation itself than with him, especially since he'd actually stopped when she asked him to. That in itself was a miracle.

"Any luck with that?" she pressed on, pushing the matter aside.

"Some," Vader replied as the two walked into the main colony. Padmé looked around at all the people huddled around space heaters and campfires; the buildings were too damaged to have any sort of enclosed interior, and the tents were filled with injured and supplies, so everyone was mostly outside.

Padmé paused, not sure what else to ask or say. Their earlier argument had exhausted her and apparently he wasn't very eager to talk, either. It had been a long day. Then she belatedly remembered that at the most Vader only got twenty minutes of sleep over the past forty-eight hours. Stepping in his way so he would give her his full attention, she said softly, "You should get some rest."

"Not now," Vader shook his head, walking around her.

Growing a little annoyed, Padmé followed him. "Why not?"

"I must report about the shuttles to Iena."

"You didn't make it sound like you'd accomplished much," Padmé noted.

"I repaired one shuttle, but I had to gut the others to do it."

Padmé smiled. "How about you tell her in the morning? I'm sure Iena's already finished her work for the day, anyway. Everyone's getting ready to celebrate the New Year's Festival. You know, I'd almost forgotten about it, honestly, with everything that's been going on."

Vader didn't look very convinced. "I'm going to tell her."

"Milord, just relax," Padmé advised, standing in his way once more. "If you're too high strung to sleep, then celebrate the New Year with everyone. Come on."

Motioning for him to follow, Padmé guided the Sith Lord through the crowds of people. Eventually she caught sight of a campfire surrounded by younglings. Judging by their outfits, they were new relief and refugee corps members. Smiling, she walked over to them; she remembered how lonely it could be when she was little and serving in the refugee relief movement. "Hello, everyone. Are you excited about the festival?"

One of the younger looking ones nodded. "I heard they're going to use some stuff to make fireworks!"

"That's a waste of supplies," Vader noted.

Padmé rolled her eyes, looking at him briefly. "It's in good fun." Then she returned her attention to the younglings. "So what are you all up to right now?"

"Campfire stories!" one of them replied excitedly. "Wanna join us?"

Padmé laughed and nodded. "Of course."

Sitting beside the children, she looked at Vader expectantly. The Sith Lord stared at her. The children shifted around so there was an open space for him across from Padmé. Eventually he sat stiffly; he wasn't giving the impression that he was very comfortable with younglings.

Oh, well. It was New Year's; time to try new things, right?

"So what's the story?" Padmé asked.

"We just finished one," a girl explained. "Anyone can start the next one."

Padmé nodded. "Okay, I'll tell one."

The younglings sat up straighter, watching her excitedly; considering how much older she was than them, they probably expected her to have some grand tale of old or some exciting adventure she'd had. Padmé felt their childlike excitement within herself, as if it were contagious. "A long time ago on a distant world, there were three children: a boy, Pelé, and two girls, Shekha and Nyya. They were the best of friends and lived a normal life, but one day Shekha stumbled upon a beautiful blue bird sleeping in a park. The bird was large and made a strange humming noise, and all around it ice was forming. Shekha was enchanted by the bird, and she immediately got her friends' attention. They all gathered around the bird, but as they did so, they suddenly became tired. The three lay down around the bird, falling asleep. And then…"

Padmé looked at Vader expectantly, waiting for him to continue the story. The Sith Lord blinked, staring at her blankly. All the younglings looked from her to him, their eyes wide with wonder, but they began to look confused as time stretched on a little too long. Padmé cleared her throat, raising her eyebrows at the man to make her point clear.

Vader continued to stare at her.

Padmé prompted him with less subtlety. "What happens next?"

Vader gave her a confused expression. "I don't know. I wasn't there."

Padmé sighed heavily and shifted over to him, leaning over and whispering, "It's a story, milord. Just make it up."

Vader looked even more perplexed than before. "Why?"

"To entertain the younglings," Padmé replied, growing a little annoyed. "Honestly, didn't your parents ever tell you stories?"

Vader continued to stare her before looking into the fire, searching his mind for a memory of such an incident. Eventually his furrowed brow relaxed and he looked at her in some sort of realization, and he nodded.

"Then it's just like that," Padmé encouraged with a smile, returning to her previous spot and waiting expectantly.

Vader took a deep breath and the children looked happy once more. They all gazed at him in anticipation. Vader leaned in towards all of them, as if he were about to tell them a secret, and he said, "And they were all killed in their sleep."

The children gasped, looking horrified. Padmé felt exasperation and shock fill her and she immediately added, "Or someone tried to hurt them, but they—"

"No, they died. Never let your guard down." Vader interrupted and then stood and left.

Padmé bit back a grumble. Smiling at the children, she stood and said, "I'll continue the story later, young ones."

Chasing after Vader, Padmé said, "What the blazes was that?"

"You said base it off of stories I've heard."

"Your parents told you about someone being murdered in his sleep?"

A loud cheer erupted from her left, and Padmé looked around and saw of a large hologram displaying the countdown occurring on Imperial Center. She could see the statue of the emperor and enormous holographic numbers floating over it. The hologram had no sound, but there was no doubt an monstrous crowd in that plaza right now. People were beginning to gather around the hologram, and someone put on loud party music, garnering another cheer. Padmé smiled; now the party was starting.

Turning, she once again looked at Vader, who was still walking in another direction. She hastily caught up with him. "Hey, where are you going?"

"The shuttle."

She figured he was getting some rest. Heaven knew he needed some. Still, the new year was about to begin; she didn't want to celebrate alone, and watching the party rev up was exciting her. The service members were a great group of people to be with, but apart from Iena, she didn't know anyone. And, despite their earlier issues, Padmé decided that she didn't mind celebrating the end of the old year and the start of the new with Darth Vader, as crazy as that sounded. Hell, she wanted to see if she could actually have fun with him. Or laugh at his expense. Either was a good possibility, and either was way more entertaining than letting him sleep. Even if he did need it.

"No you're not," Padmé laughed, stepping in front of him. "New Year's is almost here – let's celebrate!"

Vader blinked. "Celebrate?"

"You've never seen a New Year's celebration?" Padmé asked, fully doubting that statement; after all, Vader had grown up in the center of the action – Imperial Center always had the biggest New Year's parties.

"I have," Vader replied. "I've no need to join one."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "Lord Vader, sometimes there are points in your life where you just decide to do something absolutely crazy and random. This is that moment. Now come on!"

Vader looked like he was about to argue, but Padmé grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the party. She ran to the nearest table serving refreshments and grabbed two protein drinks; they weren't much, and they didn't taste that good, but by heaven they were going to toast with something. Upon returning to Vader, she handed him the drink, which he took with a bemused expression.

"Too bad we didn't bring any wine," Padmé chuckled as she took a sip.

Vader watched her and then glanced at his own drink before observing the crowd. The music was ridiculously loud; Padmé could feel the beat of the bass vibrate in her chest. People jumped to the beat and laughed and yelled. Vader then said something, but Padmé couldn't hear it.

"What?" she yelled over the noise.

"What's the point?" he asked again.

"Of what?"

"Of any of this?"

"Just for the hell of it, Vader!" Padmé replied with a laugh; blast, her adrenaline was starting to go wild.

"Are these spiked?" Vader suddenly questioned.

Padmé paused. "I highly doubt it. Besides, I haven't tasted anything off."

Vader turned and walked away.

"Hey!" Padmé ran to catch up with him. "Why can't you just stay and have fun for a change?"

Vader didn't seem to have a reply. He just watched her and then looked away.

Padmé sighed. "Just try it, milord. Just try not caring about anything for a little while. Just try living in the moment, enjoying the party, the people, the new year."

"I thought you were mad," he suddenly said over the music, still looking away. "Why are you insistent I stay?"

Padmé sighed, all amusement gone. Apparently he did remember her anger from that morning. But she didn't want to bring that up now. Her excitement was dwindling as her exhaustion returned, though; she wished he would just understand. Not everything was a mission. She herself had a hard time accepting that sometimes, but even she wasn't as bad as him. "Because you deserve better."

Vader immediately looked at her.

"You… you keep denying yourself, like you don't even think you matter," Padmé shook her head. "I still don't agree with what you did this morning, but… you still stopped when I asked you to, and I appreciate that. And you might have saved my life… I can't deny that. So… for me… just let yourself have fun. Please. You deserve that."

Vader continued to stare at her before he closed his eyes and shook his head, his brow furrowing. He was starting to get a similar expression as the one he had on Isola before he almost had another mood swing. Padmé wanted to reassure him in some manner, but she'd learned from Isola to not touch him; honestly she was surprised he hadn't shoved her off him earlier when she'd grabbed him. Instead, she did something else. She bowed.

"I would appreciate it if you did this for me, and for yourself," she said. "But… if you don't feel like doing so… I'll understand. And I'll respect that."

Her words stunned Vader, and they seemed to unlock something in him. His face softened, and his deep blue eyes glistened as he looked at her. Eventually he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his expression was neutral once more, but it felt different, like this kind of neutral wasn't just the typical I'm-unaffected-by-anything façade. "Will you come with me?"

Padmé became a little confused, but she also had the slightest glimmer of hope. "Yes, of course."

Vader nodded and then suddenly began to walk away from both Padmé and the party. Confused, she followed him. "Where are you going?"

"You said you'd come with me."

"Okay…" she muttered before trying again. "Where are we going?"

"The woods."

Padmé grew a little uneasy. What was he planning? "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Vader didn't answer. Padmé grew even more nervous. They had little to fear from the forest, particularly with Vader's prowess in battle, but… why did he want to go somewhere away from anyone's notice? She was suddenly grateful she was still armed, but then also felt a little guilty for such a thought; she should feel a little more trusting to Vader, honestly, after all the times he'd saved her, but…

The two reached the edge of the perimeter; the music and the roaring of the crowd were nothing more than a distant rumble. Vader entered the woods, and Padmé hesitantly followed until the lights of the colony barely touched them. Then he stopped.

"It's better out here," he suddenly said very quietly.

Padmé stayed a few steps away from him. "Why?"

A loud hiss emitted and the area was lit with a red glow. Vader's lightsaber was active and in his hand. Padmé jumped with a yelp and took a few hasty steps back. Vader's eyes glittered in the red light, but he watched her with an expression of nervousness, as if he were more worried than she was. Padmé's hand touched her blaster, but she didn't remove it from the holster yet. "What are you doing?"

"You said have fun," Vader explained, twitching his blade a little. "You said… you said you'd be with me."

Padmé felt some sweat trickle down her brow. "Yes…"

Suddenly the blade moved, but it angled towards Vader, as if it were being pointed at him instead of her. Vader watched her expectantly. "I… I can't have fun. But I can do this. We can do this."

Was… was he offering her his lightsaber?!

Padmé stared at him, astonished and still worried. "This?"

"Spar with me." He said with a lightness to his voice that she'd never heard before. He wasn't ordering her; he was asking her.

Padmé walked towards him slowly and tentatively reached out her hand. She felt the lightsaber hilt touch her palm, and was astonished at how warm the blade was. Vader's hands had warmed it for her, and it hummed and tickled her palm. She smiled, looking at it in wonder as her fingers closed around the hilt.

"The blade is an extension of yourself," Vader explained, beginning to pace around her. "Don't hold it like a weapon, but like you would hold out your arm. Feel its life pulsing through you. The electricity is your blood, your pulse is the crystal; let them fuse. Close your eyes. Sense the blade, feel the weight in your hand, and adjust accordingly. Nothing else matters now; it's just you. No one else exists."

Padmé did as she was told, entranced by his words and the weapon she held. Her breathing slowed, and it seemed as if the world around her disappeared. All she could feel was the warmth in her hand, all she could feel was it vibrating, and all she could hear was Vader's voice. Then she felt warmth on her left wrist, which was just sitting at her side. She jumped, startled, and then grew even more astonished when she realized it was Vader. He was touching her wrist. Gently, he guided her left hand to the hilt and made her hold it with both hands. Then he released his grip.

"You'll have more control over it that way," he pointed out, stepping away from her. "Adjust your grip accordingly; your dominant hand should be on top. Then do what I said before. Let it become one with you. Once you feel that, open your eyes."

Padmé nodded, closing her eyes once more. She was too shocked to say anything honestly, and she was also afraid she'd break the moment if she did speak. Whatever she had said before, it had obviously made a huge impact on Vader. She really needed to figure out what worked so well with him. Hopefully this wouldn't end up like Isola; his behavior there had been tender and kind, but then he'd pretended it had never happened. He'd said she'd been temporarily weak. Surely this wasn't the same, though; he wouldn't be letting her use a weapon if he thought she wasn't worth it.

Oh Force. What did he think of her?

"Focus."

Again, she nodded and took a deep breath. Eventually she felt comfortable with the grip and opened her eyes.

"Good. Now, stand with your feet greater than shoulder length apart. Bend your knees slightly; if they're too tight the shock of an impact will make them buckle, but if they're too soft you'll have no defense from a blow. Hold the blade directly in front of you."

"Why are you doing this?" Padmé couldn't help but ask as she did what he said.

"No questions," he immediately replied. "I teach, you listen. Then you… you'll be… just learn. Got it?"

Okay, she'd figure this out later. "Got it."

Vader then began to walk her through a series of stances and steps, making her do them over and over a million times. Sometimes he'd make her stand in one position for what felt like an eternity, other times he'd make her step back and repeat herself. Through it all he never raised his voice; he sounded calm, even content. Eventually, though, Padmé began to feel tired; her muscles ached, and her head began to pound from hunger and exhaustion. She fought it for a little while, but eventually she relaxed her posture and held the blade angled away from her.

"Haven't we sparred enough?" she asked.

"Don't let exhaustion stop you. You're stronger than that. There is no exhaustion for you. There's nothing; you're a weapon, you are the blade. Weapons never tire. Weapons never hurt, or desire, or anything."

Padmé sighed. "All right, I'll be a lightsaber for a little longer, but—"

She paused when she recognized a chorus all yelling the same words. When she listened more intently, she realized it was a countdown. Gasping, she whirled around. "The countdown! The new year is almost here! Come on!"

She was about to run away when she remembered the lightsaber active in her hands. She carefully held it towards Vader. "How do you turn it off?"

Vader stepped towards her and took the hilt, and the blade vanished. Padmé then hastily bade him follow her, and she ran back towards the colony. When she reached the site, she saw everyone crowded around the hologram of Imperial Center. The countdown was at ten already. Blowing out a sigh of relief she ran to the crowd and grabbed a bottle of water, joining the chorus.

"Five… four… three… two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!" they all bellowed at the top of their lungs.

Padmé laughed and wished everyone around her a happy new near, offering toasts with the drinks they all had. Eventually she turned around to toast to Vader's health and the new year when she abruptly realized that he wasn't there.

The countdown was just starting. They had a minute left. Siri laughed cheerfully as she and Obi-Wan munched on some snacks that were readily available in the kitchenette. Al had the Coruscant Countdown on the large holoprojector in the lounge, but he'd vanished in his quarters. He hastily came back, though, with a bottle in his hands.

"Some Alderaanian wine in honor of our destination!" Almusian announced happily.

"Ooh, hand it over!" Siri said happily, holding out her hand. Obi-Wan went to the kitchenette, no doubt to get some glasses.

When he returned, the three poured out the wine and waited. The countdown had reached almost ten seconds by the time they'd returned their attention to it. Al and Siri hastily began to count down. Obi-Wan remained quiet, watching them with a smile, before he joined in at five seconds. As soon as they reached zero, their own wishes for a happy new year were drowned out by the ground shaking bellowing emitting from the hologram. Then music began to play once more, and Siri faced Obi-Wan while Al bellowed out the chorus to the song. The two offered each other a toast.

"To a better year," Siri said with a smile. "A year of victory for the Alliance."

"To a year of good health," Obi-Wan offered, and the two clinked their glasses, sipping the wine. It went down smoothly, and Siri took a deep breath and closed her eyes, savoring the taste. Then she smiled at Obi-Wan. Leaning towards him, she laid her head on his chest, wrapping one arm around him while the other held her wine. Obi-Wan rested his head atop hers, and she felt him take her glass. Al continued to wail the lyrics to the song, oblivious to the two of them. Siri chuckled as she heard his poor musical skills. Then she felt Obi-Wan's hands on her back; he must have put the wine glasses on the table. Eventually one of his hands slid to her chest and pushed her away slightly so they could look at each other. Siri looked into his blue grey eyes and felt the world around her dissolve. Ever since she and Obi-Wan had become friends she'd finally felt at home with someone, and it only increased over the years. Her mind was at peace, her body relaxed. Nothing mattered when she was in his arms.

Obi-Wan gave her a gentle smile and pulled her towards him again. The two closed their eyes and kissed.

Tarkin offered a toast to Grand Adm. Pen on the large balcony as he looked below him. The cheers from the massive crowd in the plaza could be heard hundreds of levels above ground, and confetti was flying everywhere. Fireworks made the entire area vibrate. The commencement of the New Year's Festival was always quite a sight to behold, and even Tarkin felt himself relax just enough to enjoy the evening.

"To a successful year," he muttered, sipping his wine with delight.

Since we're at the halfway point, would you mind letting me know what you think is going well for the story and what could use improvement? That way the second half can be better than the first! :)