Hello everyone. I apologize for the long wait. I had to take a break from this story for a while. But your wonderful reviews and the current pandemic have brought me back. I wanted to give you guys something to keep yourselves sane in this craziness and to have someplace fun (or, well, whatever you consider this story, because let's be honest, fun isn't always the first word that comes to mind lol) to escape for a while. Stay safe and wash your hands, everyone.

Empty. He felt empty.

Smoke curled from the gaping hole in Cipher 8's chest. Cipher 8. The woman who had planted the idea. The woman who had known what it was like to be treated like an object, to be used and abused by the Empire. The woman who, despite everything, persisted and fought and bled for the Empire, even after Master's death. The woman who fought for Master's legacy, for him. Her true motives were unclear, but he recognized a battered and abused weapon when he saw one, and he'd related to her.

He hadn't intended on killing her, but it seemed she had been eager to eliminate the traitor. And that wouldn't do. His focus was absolute, and he would have no one stand in his way. He hadn't hesitated to kill her. But now he hesitated. He watched her a moment longer, feeling something in him snap. Then he looked up, glaring at what stood before him.

The governor. The wretch.

The traitor.

Darth Vader had only trusted two people his entire life. Only two. Master and the governor. It had always been Master and the governor. But Master had always come first, and though the governor was helpful, he was secondary. He had been someone to lean on, someone to utilize if he faltered or was unsure. But he'd known. He'd known this day would come. Deep down, he'd known.

He'd never wanted it, though. Not until Master died. Not until the governor took what wasn't his.

He hadn't cared about the throne. Not back then. But he did recognize that the governor's ascension was just too sudden, too perfect. The man had been planning. The man had wanted Master to die. He'd been trying to plant little seeds of treachery in Vader's mind before Master's death. He'd never been loyal to him in the first place.

He'd known. He'd known the governor had an underlying motive. He'd seen it over the years, but he'd ignored it. He'd always ignored it, always thinking that the governor could be a steadfast rock when he needed it. When he'd thought Padmé was dead, when he'd tried desperately to reorient after shooting her, the governor had been there when even Master hadn't.

And yet here they were.

He had trusted the governor implicitly. Even at his best with Obi-Wan, he hadn't trusted him the same way. How could he? After hearing of Tarkin's ascension to the throne, he'd learned never to trust anyone like that again.

It was ironic, then, how it had been Tarkin himself to suggest what brought Vader here now.

You deserve better.

Tarkin stared at him, shock emanating from the Force and from his expression. His blaster was slack in his hand, seemingly forgotten. "Vader…?"

Stepping over the cipher's body, Vader advanced slowly, feeling his body tremble with emotions he didn't recognize. The governor was no longer a trusted ally. He was an objective.

"You're alive…" Tarkin whispered. Strangely, his voice was almost… Vader wasn't sure. It trembled, just like everyone's had when they saw Padmé alive for the first time. Something in it seemed warm, something in it seemed sincere.

It made him sick.

Grasping the Force, he thrust his arm forward, imagining Tarkin flying across the room, hit with impossible strength. The governor did just that, grunting as he slammed into the wall.

He felt the urge to toss the governor again. So he did. And again. And again.

"Vader, enough!" Tarkin shouted weakly, blood leaking out of his nose.

"Why?" he hissed.

Tarkin blinked profusely and slowly stood, looking at him. "What?"

"Don't you dare play the fool with me, governor," Vader growled. "You betrayed Master. Tell me why."

Tarkin stared at him, panting for air. Vader waited, but the response he got wasn't an answer. "What happened to you? I thought the Rebels had captured you. I was told that you had been killed!"

He narrowed his eyes. "You took the throne immediately after Master died."

"But you're alive—"

"Would you prefer I was dead?" He snapped, taking a menacing step forward.

"No!" Tarkin immediately replied. "No. I… I'm glad you're alive."

He glared at the filth before him, clawed at his mind with the Force to sense the obvious lie. But there was no lie. The governor's words sang with truth.

But… that… that didn't make sense.

"You're lying!" he screamed, using the Force to toss the governor once more. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't control his own heartrate, breathing, thinking… he couldn't stop himself.

Tarkin yelled out in pain this time, and Vader felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. His eyes stung, and his body trembled. This was destabilizing. This was insane. This was amazing. This was hell.

This was right and so, so wrong all at the same time.

"You used me; you don't care!" The words just started to pour out of his mouth unchecked. He didn't know how to stop. "All you've ever cared about is the throne! Tell me why!"

Tarkin groaned, trying to pull himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily against a chair. It made Vader sick to see it.

"I… hold the same ideals… as your father…" Tarkin gasped. "Power… means… everything… and the throne… held the most… power."

Vader bit his lip, feeling it tremble. His entire world shook. There it was. There it was. The governor had never been loyal to Master. He'd always wanted Master's position.

He'd lived by Master's rules just as Vader had.

But… didn't that mean this was just the logical conclusion?

No! Everyone had to obey Master. Power plays only mattered beneath Master's status, not for the purpose of taking it!

Master wasn't perfect.

Vader's breath caught in his throat. The words were his, but the sentiment was Obi-Wan's, was Tarkin's. After all, Vader knew better. He knew Master was never wrong.

The dragon inside him purred, coming alive and clawing at his insides. Is that true?

But he'd died. How could he be the most powerful being if he'd died? Why did that even have to matter? His power meant everything to Master, but to Vader... all that had mattered was Master himself.

Master… Master… he wished he was alive. He wanted him to be alive.

"Lord Vader, please…" the governor pleaded. Vader's gut twisted. "Everything I did… this had always been my objective. But I… I didn't want to hurt you. I had intended to include you."

"Is that why you held Padmé prisoner?" he snapped, feeling hot at the thought of it. The governor had been planning on using Padmé against him, had enslaved her and hurt her for the sole purpose of controlling him. She hadn't discussed it with him, but he'd overheard enough, sensed enough, seen enough. The burns on her neck. The whispers between her and her family. Tarkin's need to take him to Eriadu before Master's death. He'd put the pieces together. The governor had planned on using her just as he'd used him.

The governor's eyes widened briefly as the realization hit him, but he recovered quickly.

"Padmé made you happy," Tarkin said, his voice finally returning fully. His statement was so obvious, so matter of fact, that Vader had to immediately snarl at it.

"Happy? I don't know happiness, have no need for it—"

"Stop lying to yourself," the governor interrupted, halting Vader dead in his tracks. "You don't have to do that anymore. Palpatine isn't here anymore."

His gut clenched. The last thing he needed was a reminder of that. Feeling a scream rumble in his chest, he threw Tarkin across the room again. The governor let out a small yelp of pain, pathetic and soft, weak and insignificant. Vader suddenly felt the fire in his veins disappear, and he grew icy cold. Suddenly it didn't matter if he'd betrayed Master or not, and that thought alone made his insides freeze. Suddenly all that mattered was that Tarkin had used Vader, had used Padmé, had used everyone. He was only out for himself.

And that… that… hurt.

"I trusted you," Vader whispered, his voice trembling.

Tarkin feebly pushed himself onto his knees on the floor and watched Vader with dull eyes. Vader didn't know how to read his expression, and it didn't matter. He suddenly felt drained, empty, and alone, just like he had on Hoth.

"I know," Tarkin said softly. "I know you did. That's why I thought I had a chance to help you, a chance to free you from Palpatine's vice grip. We would have both gotten what we'd wanted."

"I don't have—"

"You have wants. You have desires. You're a living breathing person. You wanted Amidala, Lord Vader. Don't deny it."

He bit his lip. Tarkin's words echoed Padmé's. When did the governor start caring about Vader's personhood? Was he just saying it because Padmé had? He knew he was a living, breathing person. It still felt wrong to admit it, but he knew it. Then he glared at the governor once more. "So I would have become a means to an end for you, then. It's no different."

The governor actually coughed out what seemed to be a laugh. "Except I wouldn't have tortured you emotionally or physically. I wouldn't have controlled every aspect of your thoughts. You and I both have the same viewpoint, the same logic of how the galaxy should be ordered. Ours would have been a partnership, not enslavement. I respected you."

Respect? What was respect? Like admiration? That meant viewing the person as an example, an ideal, right? It never had entirely made sense to him, just as knowing what it meant to like someone or care for someone had meant nothing a long time ago. So, so long ago…

Did that mean the governor looked to him as a prime example of what was right? But then why would he… Vader shook his head. This man was a manipulator. Nothing more. Everyone had an ulterior motive. Trust was for fools. Padmé's objective was the Alliance. Obi-Wan and Siri were loyal to the Jedi. Trust was for fools.

"We can still be partners, milord."

His attention snapped back to the governor. Was this man actually still trying to play the game, still trying to trick him into believing that he was a useful asset?

An asset. As if the governor had just been an asset. Vader… Vader had cared about the governor.

A wave of nausea overcame him at the admission, even if it was just in his own mind. Then something else set fire to his body once more, and he reached forward, clawing the Force with his fingers. Tarkin gasped, grasping his neck as his trachea slowly closed.

"I will never trust you again!" Vader yelled. "You betrayed Master! You betrayed me!"

"Anakin, stop! Let him go!"

A familiar warmth entered the area. The bond in his mind hummed with proximity.

Obi-Wan.

Vader gripped the governor's throat even harder, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. Tarkin's presence in the Force, once a consistent comfort, began to fade.

"Let—him—go!"

At the order, he automatically dropped the governor before shaking his head and snarling. The governor was prone on the floor now, motionless. The sight pierced his chest, hitching his breath, and suddenly he felt even more out of control than before. Whirling on Obi-Wan, he yelled, "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

Obi-Wan watched him with wide eyes, some sort of expression on his face. Vader couldn't quite read it. Was it fear? Was it shock? Both? He didn't know.

He didn't care.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan rebutted. "You sabotaged the mission. People are dying because of you."

"I'm doing what I should have done from the beginning!" Vader said, pacing back and forth, filled with energy. "The throne is Master's legacy, my birthright. The governor took that from me. He betrayed Master.

"I'm doing what you said I should do! You said I should free Padmé from her enslavement. She is bound to the Alliance like I was to Master. I'm freeing her from it. I'm freeing you and Siri from the people who killed Master. The Alliance falls today! The Jedi fall today!"

What seemed to be horror colored Obi-Wan's expression and his signature in the Force. "Anakin…"

Obi-Wan stood still, his face white as a sheet. Vader grew all the more restless for it. He'd figured they would be upset. He certainly had been at Master's death. But it would pass. They would realize it was better this way.

But for whatever reason, he wanted to see that now. Something snaked its way into him and curled in his stomach, a shivering icy cold doubt that they wouldn't go along with the plan, that he would be alone.

"Do you love me or not?" Vader demanded.

"I… Anakin, of course I do," Obi-Wan replied haltingly. Too haltingly.

More doubt filled Vader's mind. "No you don't. You're too loyal to the Jedi. You'd promised we would never go back to the Rebels!"

"The only reason we went was because of Padmé, Anakin!" Obi-Wan argued. "I wasn't going to abandon her; I wasn't going to lose her right after I'd just gotten her back!"

Vader gasped for air as if he'd run a kilometer. His fingers tingled. His vision swam. The Force roared around him. "I don't… I don't want to lose her either. But she's already gone as she is. Don't you understand? She was never here in the first place!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I said it before, and you agreed!" he explained, needing to make his point. "I said she'd become a tool for the Alliance. You said—"

"I suggested you help her, yes, but not destroy everything she held dear! How in the blazes is that helping?!" Now Obi-Wan was starting to sound angry.

"I had to lose Master to gain everything," Vader whispered. "I had to lose him."

"And after we lose everything, what then? Do you expect us to simply play along, to bow down to you as our new emperor?" Obi-Wan demanded, gesturing harshly with his arm.

Well… yes? But that wasn't why he did it. It wasn't about the power. It was about them. When the dust had settled, he could be with Padmé. When the dust had settled, Obi-Wan and Siri would be free and safe to have their child. When the dust had settled, they would all be a family.

Why doesn't he understand?!

"We'd have each other." He said simply.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, burying his face in his hand. "Anakin, this… this is wrong. This is so wrong."

"You don't want us together? Is that it?" he snapped, starting to pace again.

"I wanted nothing more than to go to some unknown place and live out my life with you, Siri, and our child," Obi-Wan said softly, slowly lowering his hand. Vader froze. "But that changed when Padmé came back. You can't be this… this selfish."

Then it clicked. "You didn't choose the Jedi. You chose Padmé."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. "Is this a competition between you two?"

"You're allying your views with hers!" He accused. "Don't you understand that they're wrong?"

"Why? Because they disagree with you?"

"Because they killed Master!" he bellowed, his voice echoing in the room. The walls trembled at his lack of control, shaking the foundation of the bunker with the Force.

It didn't matter if Master had been right or wrong. It didn't matter if Master had hurt him. He'd loved him. He'd loved him. He would never forgive the Rebels and the Jedi. Never.

Obi-Wan watched him for a long time, his eyes hard. Then he shook his head, looking away. "I'm sorry. I should have known better. We should have never involved you in this."

That was a dismissal and he knew it. He was avoiding the issue. "Are you with me or against me?"

"It doesn't have to be an absolute," Obi-Wan said. "I can agree with you on some matters and disagree on others. Please, Anakin – listen to reason. Stop this."

Why? Why should he stop? Because it wasn't what Obi-Wan wanted? Was this simply a matter of Obi-Wan's will against his? Whose will was more important?

Up to this point, everyone else had been more important. Up to this point he'd always put their desires first. He still wasn't even entirely sure what his wants and desires were. But this… he knew this:

He didn't want to be alone.

You were never alone with Master. So don't be alone now. Just submit. All you have to do is submit.

He took a step away, feeling sick for the millionth time. A deep, dark desire that had laid dormant within him, the poison from the dragon inside his soul, stirred.

Obi-Wan won't hurt you like Master did. He didn't on Ferrasco. Even Siri stopped wanting to hurt you. They love you. They forgave you. They would be there for you. Just submit.

He shook his head, hyperventilating. The desire slowly rose up, making his world spin.

Padmé was so happy that you said you would help the Alliance. It's all she cares about, just as Master only cared about maintaining his power. You can be with her. Just submit.

Submit. Submit. The desire that he'd locked away most of his life suddenly manifested, and his entire body fought against the word, against the mere thought of ever obeying anyone again.

"NO!" he screamed, grasping the Force and throwing Obi-Wan against the wall so harshly it shook dust from the ceiling. Obi-Wan fell to the floor, still and silent.

Footsteps. Gasping. The Force warmed, the smell of roses in his nostrils.

Padmé.

She'd known. As soon as HoloNet had gone dark, she'd known. As soon as Obi-Wan had talked to her on the comlink, she'd known. She'd been frantic. She'd been terrified. She'd been hurt. She'd been so hopeful that it would work out. But she'd known. As soon as it had all gone wrong, she'd known. They'd both had their fears on the way to the mission, and they'd both prayed they were wrong.

Oh, Vader.

Padmé had followed Obi-Wan's comlink signal all the way to a bunker that was only protected by the dead. She'd felt her stomach turn, but the Imperials had been killed by blasters, knives, poisons… this hadn't been Vader's doing.

What would she say? What would she do? What could she do? How could they salvage this disaster?

She continued deeper into the bunker, and as she climbed a ladder that led downward, she heard yelling. Obi-Wan was down there, sounding strained, hurt, angry. It had been so long since she'd heard her brother get angry.

Sucking in a breath, she ran down the hall just in time to hear a vicious scream. She entered the room just in time to see her brother fly right into a wall, rendering him unconscious. She stared at him for a few seconds, her heart skipping a beat. Was he okay? She wanted to run to him, but movement in the room caught her attention.

Her gaze turned to what was directly in front of her. To who was directly in front of her.

Vader.

The man stood in the center of the room, his face flushed, his eyes wild. He was breathing as heavily as she was, even though he obviously hadn't been running across half the district. Padmé felt her skin crawl. She was suddenly reminded of that fateful night on the balcony. Then she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. They'd been so close. She'd thought it would all work out. She'd believed him when he'd said he would help.

"Why?" she asked.

"To free you." He immediately replied.

Free her? Then she remembered her conversation with Obi-Wan aboard the Beauty. "Because you think I'm a pawn for the Alliance?"

Vader's eyes, if possible, widened even more, though it was a brief reaction. He looked almost relieved, nodding, some normal color returning to his cheeks.

Padmé felt disgusted with both herself and Vader. What a hell of a mess she'd gotten herself into just because she'd decided to woo the man who was watching her. Not that she regretted helping Vader in the slightest… just…

Damn it!

"Obi-Wan was right," she conceded sadly. "Your loyalty is to people, not principles."

Vader's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He watched her warily.

"That's not how it works with me," Padmé explained, standing tall. "My loyalty is to my principles, my beliefs. That doesn't mean I abandon the people I love – it means my decisions are guided by my ideals."

"You sold yourself for the Alliance."

Padmé shook her head. "Because of Éothen? Yes. I did. I was desperate, terrified, angry. I had just found out that you had destroyed the Alliance's reinforcements, after I'd thought that you and I had made a breakthrough."

Before Vader could get a word in, she continued, "But I learned. I regretted the decision. I still do. I can't change what happened. I can't take back the damage that I caused. But I can do what I can to make up for it. Vader, you… you have to believe me. I truly, deeply love you. But this…"

She looked around the bunker, and her eyes settled on another figure. Was that Grand Moff Tarkin? Seeing the man jolted her back to reality out of the conversation, the reality that the world was falling apart around them, that the Jedi were dying and their escape route was quickly disappearing, if not already gone entirely.

The reality that they were trapped here with all the Empire's might closing in.

She couldn't do this. She wouldn't. She loved Vader. But she had to draw the line.

She had to draw the line.

"If you love me, you would stay. You would understand."

Padmé felt her frustration grow. "You're using love in the twisted way that you understand it. If you claim that someone should obey blindly because they love a person, then love is indeed a prison. But it's not. Love is selfless. It's literally the opposite of what you're saying."

"Love is unconditional." Vader snapped.

Padmé smiled, sad and tired, but indescribably relieved that he at least knew that much. "Yes… yes, it is. As such, I still love you, even though you're trying to destroy everything I have worked for and care about."

But that didn't mean she'd let him continue. That didn't mean she would explain away why this was okay. Because it wasn't.

None of this was okay.

Darth Vader was the son of Emperor Palpatine. He had been abused and manipulated his entire life. He knew so little of emotion and proper mental health. He didn't understand. But despite his stunted emotional development, he wasn't a fool. He was capable of learning the truth. He hadn't had much time to do so, but he'd had enough that he should know better than this.

Family was the foundation for everything. She knew that, and it explained why Vader's foundation was essentially nonexistent. He acted based on the options he thought he had, which were very limited. It was time she broadened those options. Just this one time. This last time.

There was no going back from this.

Padmé had been telling the truth when she'd said her principles guide her decisions. Her principles told her that Vader deserved love and respect, compassion and empathy. Her principles had guided her to help him when they were first getting to know each other on Naboo all that time ago. And now, her principles told her that despite Obi-Wan's truthful statement that she couldn't singlehandedly save the galaxy, she could save this man. And her love for him told her that she was willing to try one last time.

But only if he chose. Only if he wanted it. She couldn't fix him – he had to fix himself. She would give him the option, but he would have to willingly take it. She would help him, but he had to choose to go down this path.

"I love you," she repeated, slowly walking towards him. He watched her stiffly, as if he were expecting a rejection. Perhaps he was. But what she offered wasn't quite a rejection. It was an opportunity. An escape. For both of them. "I want to help you. The Empire destroyed you. I let the Alliance consume me. I still believe in their cause. I still believe they're what's right, what's good for the galaxy. But I can help people in other ways. It doesn't have to be as a spy, as a soldier, as anything related to the Alliance. I can help you.

"Palpatine hurt you. He twisted you into thinking that hurting others, that bullying and dominating was the way to make things work. But it isn't. It's not about hatred or power. It's about love. It's always been about love."

"I do love you," Vader insisted. "That's partly why I'm doing this."

"Love is selfless," Padmé almost snapped, trying to hold herself in check. She understood why he viewed this as an act of love. She did. But he'd put his sensibilities above hers, he'd thought he'd known best when he didn't know anything. It was arrogant, and it was wrong. "You're trying to break me down. That's not selfless. That's selfish."

Her words stung, and Vader's eyes flashed with hurt and annoyance. He took a menacing step forward, but Padmé didn't back down.

"I want to help you." She reiterated, holding onto her resolve, meaning every word. "But you have to be willing to work with me too. This is a partnership, not a dictatorship."

Vader watched her, considering her words. "A partnership?"

Padmé swallowed and took deep breath. "We both leave. You leave the Empire, I leave the Alliance."

Vader stared at her, trying to fathom what she had just said.

Padmé continued, "Our entire relationship has been spent with us trying to win each other over to the opposite side. It's what started our relationship. We've been trying to force our world views onto each other. We've been trying to manipulate each other. I want that to stop, and I'm pretty sure you do too. But we have to get out of this war."

Slowly, she reached out her hand to him. "Let's fix this mess together."

Vader stared at her. "You… you want to just leave? Just like that? Abandon everything?"

"I'm not leaving until we get this situation under control," Padmé said firmly. "We can't get out of here alive otherwise. But after that… after that you and I can discover our path together."

The former Imperial eyed her suspiciously. "This is just another ploy. You're just throwing yourself into the situation to save the Alliance."

"I'm doing this to save you," Padmé argued, lowering her hand.

"And I'm doing this to save you!" Vader retorted, gesturing around the room.

"You killed Tarkin to save me? You hurt Obi-Wan to save me?" Padmé questioned, glaring at him.

"Tarkin deserved his punishment—he betrayed Master!" Vader snarled, but the fire quickly went out of him. "Obi-Wan…"

Padmé continued to glower, waiting for an explanation that she knew would never be able to excuse what had happened. Vader's eyes darted to her brother and then back to her.

Vader shook his head. "I just… I don't know… I…"

"You lost your temper," Padmé supplied, crossing her arms. "That's the issue: you can't control your emotions. You don't know how. Nobody's expecting you to know how—you were never taught. But you're hurting us, not helping us. Don't you see that?!"

Vader groaned, shaking his head even more violently. "Why are you doing this?!"

"Because I care!" Padmé yelled. "How do you reconcile two people you love telling you two different things? How do you decide? Do you even know?"

Vader stepped back, unsure and agitated.

"You don't know." Padmé answered her own question. "You want to know why? Because you base everything on your attachment to people. You can't do that, Vader! Or you end up like this, with the people you love on the ground because you got so lost and confused you didn't know what to do, and so you just reacted!"

"It's not just people," Vader hissed, charging forward again. "I understand how the galaxy works. Power is everything, Padmé – if you were powerless you wouldn't be able to accomplish anything."

"Obi-Wan and Siri were powerless as fugitives, and yet they still managed to help you," Padmé retorted. "Power isn't just about being able to control or hurt others. In fact, true power isn't something that's physical or flaunted – true power comes from being able to control yourself."

"I was able to control myself until you destabilized everything!" Vader accused.

Padmé stared at him incredulously. Gods, she guessed everything was finally coming out. Shaking her head, she said, "You weren't controlling anything, you were denying it. You were pretending it didn't exist. How long do you think that would have lasted?"

"It could have worked." Vader insisted, his eyes softening. "You… you could have been with me, we could have served Master together."

Was he still fixated on that? She shouldn't be surprised. She really wasn't. Just sad. And tired. So, so tired. "Palpatine assigned you to spy on me, to kill me. It would have never worked."

"I could have explained it to him."

Padmé shook her head again, growing frustrated. "He wouldn't accept an explanation. I was a threat. I would never help Palpatine. Not after everything he'd done to hurt others."

Vader paused, considering something. Then he asked, "So you would have never forgiven him?"

Forgiven? Forgiven Palpatine? Where was he going with this? What did this have to do with anything right now?

And then it hit her. This had nothing to do with Palpatine.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. She doubted she could, particularly since he had been unrepentant. She doubted anyone could, especially after learning how he'd treated his own son. But she knew who this was truly aimed at. Obi-Wan had said that he and Siri had forgiven Vader for everything, had acknowledged his crimes and still forgiven him. Neither Padmé nor Vader had forgiven each other up to this point.

He'd shot her. That was still the main point of contention. Padmé had immediately dismissed it as soon as he'd seemed to be on her side, mainly because she hadn't even thought about it. But forgiveness wasn't something that just happened. It wasn't automatic. It had to be a conscious decision.

It wasn't just that he'd shot her, though. Now he'd made an even more grievous mistake, an even bigger mess. So many lives were being lost because of him. All because he'd wanted to get revenge for Tarkin's actions. All because he'd wanted to help Padmé, Obi-Wan, and Siri.

Forgiveness was never the easy choice. It often didn't even seem the rational one. And in this instance… it might even seem impossible. But Padmé loved him. She loved him. That was enough.

It would always be enough.

She chose. "But I do forgive you."

Vader's gaze, having drifted to the floor, immediately snapped back to meet hers. She held eye contact, meaning what she'd said, wanting to convey that to him. She did forgive him. She wasn't sure how they would recover from this catastrophe, but she did forgive him for it.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and he cleared his throat, looking down and stepping back. When he stared at her again, his eyes were dry, but his face had softened. "I… forgive you too."

Padmé felt a smile grow on her face, tired but genuine. "Thank you."

The two stood in silence, emotionally exhausted and not sure where to go from here. Vader spoke first.

"The Alliance will kill me," he said, looking away. Padmé felt her gut clench. Yes, they would. There was no stopping that now. It was part of the reason she said they should run away. That and the simple fact that staying in this war would only cause strife – Vader just didn't understand yet. All he had to go by were what Palpatine and Tarkin had taught him – the only reason he'd stayed in line with Obi-Wan and Siri was purely out of love, not agreement. Staying in the war would only create more disasters like this, it would turn Vader into their biggest enemy. She didn't want that. And she knew he would never stop fighting the Alliance while she was a part of it.

So yes, in a way she was still throwing herself into this to save someone else. But why wouldn't she? What sort of selfish person would she be to let him drown like this? No, she couldn't save the galaxy. The Alliance could, and she could help them. But Vader… no one else could help him. Obi-Wan and Siri had to take care of their child, and Padmé had started this mess. Padmé loved him. She wasn't going to leave him. Not by her own choice.

Vader took a deep breath, regathering his thoughts. "The Alliance will kill me. But the Empire… the Empire is my birthright. I would control everything. You want to take that away from me?"

Padmé paused, considering the question. No one deserved the throne, really, but despite Vader's words about power and control, he'd never cared about the throne. This was more of a reaction to Tarkin than anything else, it seemed. Or perhaps a way of holding onto his father's memory.

Wait. No. It was deeper than that. He would control everything.

Control. This was about control. This was about agency. This was about his own freedom, his own personhood.

This was everything that he was.

"I want you to be happy," she finally said. And she truly did. But she couldn't determine his happiness for him, and she would not sell herself like she had with Éothen, and so she continued, "But I won't compromise my morals for it. You can stay with the Empire, but I won't follow. Or we can both leave. The choice is yours. I won't order you or force you into anything. You deserve to choose."

Vader stood there, silent. His body trembled as if the magnitude of her words were impacting him with a force stronger than he could handle. He took a small, shaky breath, and eventually his eyes looked beyond her, cloudy with thought. They then drifted to somewhere beside her before finally settling on her once more, hardening with determination. Padmé held her breath.

"Check on Obi-Wan," he ordered, his voice firm. "I'll make sure we still have an escape route available."

Padmé blinked, her world shifting. An escape route? So he was coming with her, then? He… he'd chosen her. He'd chosen her over the Empire.

He chose her.

A laugh of relief bubbled in her chest and she breathily released it before nodding and running to her brother, her mirth growing somber as she saw blood trickling down his temple. Kneeling beside him, she shook his shoulder gently, and the gravity of the situation mixed in with her immense relief and happiness, making her dizzy.

Vader would run from all of this, would be safe from the conflict (and to be honest, the conflict would be safe from him). He wanted to be with her. They could be together. She could help him. He could finally start healing and living. But they still had to get out of here. They still had to salvage what was left of this mess. The senate building was in chaos and the full might of the Imperial military was likely starting to bear down on them. Al was probably gone with the other two smugglers – at least she hoped so. By now it would be too late to fly out. The planet would be on lockdown. And the Jedi…

Obi-Wan moaned, shifting. Padmé's attention immediately returned to her brother. "Obi? Obi, wake up. Are you okay? What's hurting?"

Blinking a few times before squeezing his eyes shut, Obi-Wan rolled onto his back, his hand slowly rising to rub his face. He flinched at the touch and then opened his eyes to look at her. "Padmé?"

Padmé smiled at her older brother, placing her hand on his chest to comfort him. "I'm here."

"Anakin?"

Padmé's smile grew, and she turned to get Vader's attention when she noticed he'd stepped out. She assumed he was checking their escape route. Looking back at her brother, she said, "He's going to be okay, Obi. I talked to him. He's coming with me. We're… it's a long story."

Obi-Wan groaned, sitting up. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm not sure. Vader's checking for a way out of here."

Obi-Wan stared at her, his brow furrowing. "A way out of here? He's coming with us?"

"Yes. I just said that," Padmé replied worriedly. Did her brother have a concussion?

"Padmé, what did he say?" Obi-Wan asked, his raspy voice growing clearer as he woke up more.

"He said he was making sure we still had an escape route available."

"No, what did he say about joining us?" Obi-Wan shook his head. "He'd said that on Ghanu'jivo as well. He could be playing you again."

"There's no reason for him to do that. He has all the pieces right now." Padmé explained.

"What if he left to get security to arrest us?"

"He wouldn't do that," Padmé said, shaking her head, ignoring the slimmest doubt in her stomach. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. She'd been completely open with him, and she expected him to be completely open in return. This was their last chance. If he broke her trust after this, it was over.

Obi-Wan looked unconvinced.

"You may not trust him, but trust me." Padmé insisted, holding a hand to help him stand up.

As Obi-Wan accepted her help gratefully, Padmé glanced around the room once more. All she'd noticed before was Grand Moff Tarkin, but now she realized there were at least three more bodies there. A woman was right in front of the entranceway, a hole in her chest, a small half smile still stuck on her face for some unnerving reason. A couple of guards were flanking a chair, perhaps where Tarkin had been sitting. Another woman was on the ground beside the seat, and Padmé recognized her: Lady Tarkin. Growing nervous, Padmé leaned a little closer to the direction of the seat to see if Lady Tarkin was breathing and instead saw the hideous sight of a blaster wound to the head. Swallowing a gag, she looked away.

Footsteps echoed in the room as Vader reentered. He paused, his eyes falling on Obi-Wan. The three looked at each other for a moment before he said, "I'm… I'm sorry."

Padmé felt her heartrate rise a little, but she realized he was addressing Obi-Wan and apologizing for hurting him. Obi-Wan remained silent, apparently not yet willing to accept the apology. Vader seemed to sense that too, and he bit his lip.

Padmé was about to break the tension when Vader said, "There's a way to help the Jedi."

Both Naberries stiffened. "What?"

"I planted explosives around the senate district and in the senate building," Vader explained, alarming Padmé. "It was a backup in case the dioxis and security forces didn't work effectively enough. You can still use it to your advantage."

"Dioxis?!" Obi-Wan repeated.

"Isn't that a poisonous gas?" Padmé confirmed worriedly.

Vader nodded impatiently. "The point is—"

"You tampered with the data spike and poisoned everyone?!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.

"I needed to ensure they died!" Vader finally snapped before shaking his head and taking a step back so he could try to calm down.

Padmé tried to catch her breath to calm the other two before the situation escalated again, but Obi-Wan managed to push through his horror.

"How exactly do you propose we help, then? Blow everything up?" Obi-Wan snapped.

"If there are enough Imperial forces there, you could," Vader waved a hand dismissively. "But it's more likely that some Jedi and Imperial officials escaped the building. If you gave the surviving Jedi access codes, they could use it to force a ceasefire. It could get them off the planet."

"How would it get them off the planet?" Padmé asked. "It might buy them some time, but the Empire will just find a way to kill them all and disarm the bombs."

"There were disagreements about who should be emperor," Vader explained. "Many ships will have left or have started fighting each other by now. The main threat is the military force that's on the planet, and most of them are in the Senate District by now. Threatening to detonate the entire area will make them stop – soldiers might be willing to die for the Empire, but the officers and diplomats won't be. The Jedi can flee with a few hostages for good measure and make their way to acceptable escape routes."

"What acceptable escape routes?" Obi-Wan demanded.

Vader shrugged. "Whatever routes they find. I can't make any other guarantees."

"You made this mess, Anakin," Obi-Wan said coldly, standing. "And your solution to cleaning it up is to give them a possible chance that they can maybe get to the lower levels, assuming there are even survivors by this point?"

Vader shifted, growing uncomfortable. Obi-Wan glared for a while longer and then closed his eyes, balling his fists, and taking a deep breath. Padmé watched the two for a moment longer before saying, "We don't have time to argue. Vader, give Obi-Wan the information on the bombs. He can relay it to the Jedi."

Vader nodded, seeming at first reluctant, and then timidly walking towards Obi-Wan before the man opened his eyes and gave Vader such an intense stare it stopped the man dead in his tracks.

"I will trust you for this," Obi-Wan said quietly. "Do not abuse that. Do you understand me?"

Vader watched him a moment longer before nodding. As the two exchanged information, Padmé pulled out her comlink, now wondering how the blazes they were going to get out of here. She called Al first, praying that he and the other Rebels have gotten out.

"Padmé! Are you okay?"

Padmé wasn't sure if she should feel relieved or terrified that Al had answered. If he was off the planet the transmission would have never reached him. "I'm fine. Where are you?"

"In the underbelly. I wasn't leaving without you guys."

Tears leaked out of her eyes. Al was such a great friend. "The Rebels?"

"They left with Lastina and Tyberus. They're safe. Lastina and Tyberus refused to wait for the Jedi, though."

"At least the soldiers got out," she muttered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Can you send me coordinates?"

"Let's not. I don't know if Intelligence is picking back up or not," Al replied, adding with a nervous laugh, "In fact we probably shouldn't have said half the things we just did. Uh, I'll just meet you, uh, where we normally do. Okay?"

The Drunken Dewback Cantina. "Got it. We'll be there."

Cutting the connection, she turned to Obi-Wan and Vader. "Al's going to get us out of here."

Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgement. "I managed to reach Qui-Gon. There are still some left fighting. He said they would get it done, but…"

Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head.

"They're Jedi. They're not weak." Vader stated as if it were obvious. In his own way, he was trying to reassure Obi-Wan, despite his own sentiment about the Jedi. Obi-Wan recognized the gesture and gave Anakin a tired, wary, but still somewhat thankful glance.

"Then I suppose we should head out," Obi-Wan said, looking at Padmé. "Where are we going?"

"The Drunken Dewback," Padmé answered, already heading towards the exit. "Let's go."

Obi-Wan nodded and walked alongside her before stopping suddenly, making Padmé halt abruptly as well. Before she could ask what was wrong, Obi-Wan turned to look at Vader, who hadn't moved.

Vader shifted uncomfortably. "I… need to do something."

"What do you need to do?" Obi-Wan questioned, stiffening.

Vader looked down, his hands playing with his tunic. Padmé faced him fully, wondering what was suddenly wrong. "I need… I need to… I don't know. I just… he… I need to be alone."

Padmé stared at him confusion. "What's wrong?"

"The governor."

Padmé looked over at the body and felt her heart clench. Whatever opinion Vader now held of him, Tarkin had practically raised the man. And he'd killed him. The reality of that must be sinking in now. "Vader…"

"We'll be outside," Obi-Wan said softly. "Be quick, Anakin."

Vader nodded, and the siblings walked to the other side of the hallway where the escape hatch was. Obi-Wan sighed, facing Padmé. "Now that we have a moment, what exactly is that long story that led Anakin to suddenly change his mind?"

Padmé took a deep breath. She had a lot of explaining to do.

Everything hurt like hell. His chest burned. His head was swimming. His neck… stars, his neck.

Tarkin coughed, and he was fairly certain he spit out some blood.

Biting back a moan, he shifted, moving a shaky hand to his forehead. What had happened?

Vader.

Opening his eyes, Tarkin coughed again as he tried to sit up, ignoring his body practically screaming at him to stop.

Vader. He was alive. That beautiful, stupid boy was still alive. And he was pissed. Tarkin shook his head. He'd tried to explain, tried to express his astonishment and relief, tried to say he wanted to help him. But he supposed Vader was too far gone. The loss of Palpatine without the proper structure to recover had destroyed any control he had left over his sanity and his emotions.

But he'd known where to find Tarkin. So that implied that he had some part in the attack on the senate building. That meant he still had some sense of logic left in his mind. How did he escape the Rebels? He obviously wasn't in league with Keeper, who was now no longer an issue. But…

Tarkin felt his breath catch in his throat as he suddenly realized he was being watched.

Twisting his torso, he saw Vader kneeling beside him, looking at him intently. Tarkin felt his skin crawl. Hesitantly, he prompted, "Milord…?"

What was the boy up to? Why was he suddenly calm after his previous outburst? What was he planning in that destroyed mind of his? If only his idiotic wife had kept Amidala in check, if only his spy had brought Vader home in time… things would have been so indescribably different.

His wife. She was dead, wasn't she? Oh well. He supposed she'd served her purpose.

"You have to leave."

Vader's calm voice pierced the silence, making Tarkin jump. What? Leave? What had happened while he was unconscious? Did Vader take over the Empire? Was he banishing him?

"What's going on?" Tarkin asked hesitantly, his throat hurting at the effort.

"Imperial Center is no longer the seat of power. The Alliance will likely take this place as a symbolic victory once they recover. You have to leave."

The Alliance? Wait, hadn't Vader taken over, though? That was why he'd come, or at least that had been the impression Tarkin had gotten. "The Rebels are here? Where will you go?"

"With Padmé."

Ah. Tarkin shouldn't have been surprised. Vader had known about Amidala's imprisonment, so they obviously had reunited. Perhaps she had managed to calm him enough to plan this coup. Had she finally won him to her side? "You're a Rebel?"

Vader's face darkened. That was all the answer Tarkin needed. But if Vader wasn't a Rebel, and he wasn't taking over the throne… "Milord, what's happening?"

"I just told you."

"With you."

"I said that too."

This didn't make sense. Amidala would turn him in, wouldn't she? Or did he help her simply to show he cared? "You're not a Rebel, but you're assisting the Rebels?"

He could see the boy growing more agitated. He didn't want to push his luck – he wouldn't survive another argument with him. But he couldn't just ignore the fact that this made no sense. What was wrong?

"I did what I had to. That will no longer be the case."

"What do you mean?" Tarkin asked hoarsely.

"I'll be with Padmé."

Well that told him nothing. Stupid boy, what was he playing at? And why he was helping Tarkin now? "Why do you want me to leave?"

"You will not the throne," Vader said in a deep, commanding tone, his eyes darkening.

Tarkin wouldn't take the throne? After everything he'd fought for? After all the years of scheming, guiding, ruling… Vader just thought he would give it up?

It wasn't like Tarkin could argue with the boy. He would die in an instant. But… "Where do you propose I go?"

"You're smart. You'll figure something out." Vader replied dully, obviously not caring. "Now, go."

If Vader stayed with Amidala, she would use him for the Alliance. She obviously already had. She would wear him out like Palpatine had. Tarkin tasted bitterness alongside the blood in his mouth. He supposed he had to give the senator credit – she was among the best manipulators he'd met. She must have taken advantage of him due to his grief over Palpatine and relief over seeing her again. He must have fallen right into her hands, and she'd turned him against Tarkin. But he wasn't giving up on the boy that easily.

"Come with me," Tarkin said.

Vader blinked. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You can't hurt me anymore."

Tarkin almost flinched at the remark, his body aching even more somehow. Hurt him? He was trying to help him, blast it! "Did you actually decide to stay with her, or is she simply telling you what to do?"

Here Vader shifted, and he cocked his head to the side as he considered Tarkin's words. Eventually he shook his head, his face hardening. "I make my own decisions."

Tarkin would be relieved if it weren't for the fact that these 'decisions' led him to think of Tarkin as an enemy. It also just didn't seem likely. "Milord… please, just hear me out. I… I just want to make sure you're alright. Amidala has used you before, you know."

"And you haven't?" Vader hissed.

"I have," Tarkin conceded, knowing there was no point in denying it. "I did what I thought was necessary. How else could I convince you that the emperor was hurting you? You wouldn't listen to me."

Finally, Tarkin got a decent reaction. Vader bit his lip and looked down. "Why are you asking?"

"I want you to be safe," Tarkin answered sincerely.

Vader eyed him warily and confusedly. He really didn't understand, did he? Tarkin was remiss to admit it, but he cared about this lost, confused moron. He'd cared about him for quite a while now. He needed to convince the boy of that so he could get him out of harm's way. They could always plan a triumphant return after he'd eased the boy's worries. He highly doubted Vader had sorted everything out in his mind since Palpatine's death.

"Come with me," he repeated, sitting up more properly despite the pain.

Vader watched him flinch as he gingerly tried to stand. The sight seemed to bother the boy, but he stood wordlessly so he could be at eye level. Tarkin waited patiently for a reply, but eventually the pain started wearing his patience thin. "Milord, please. Come with me."

Eventually, Vader shook his head. "No."

Frustration and fear bubbled inside of Tarkin, a sensation he didn't like in the slightest. "Milord, if you are correct in saying you decided to stay with her, that still doesn't guarantee your safety. She will use you for her own purposes – she already has. And the Rebels… the Rebels will kill you."

"I know they will," he stated matter-of-factly.

Tarkin felt sick. So this was the boy's new reality, then. He'd gone from being psychopathically unstable to just plain depressed. This was just… he wouldn't see the boy like this. He wouldn't. He'd seen it once before and he'd stomped it out of Vader as hard as he could. He would do the same now. Placing his hand on Vader's shoulders, he made eye contact with the boy, trying to get his point across. "Dying is easy, milord. Too easy. Only the weak choose to die. It takes immeasurable strength to live after loss. He would want you to live. Choosing to live is the most important decision you could ever make."

Vader's calm façade faded. His stormy eyes smoothed with shock, and his mouth slipped open slightly. He stared at Tarkin, speechless for a few moments as the former emperor regent allowed the words to settle in his mind. He wanted to make his point quite clear. He didn't need—want—the boy to die, particularly by his own doing. That was just… wrong. In every way.

Slowly, Vader closed his mouth, reaching for Tarkin's hand. When he grabbed it, Tarkin expected some sort of dismissal, but instead the boy squeezed his hand, and… and…

He smiled.

"Go governor," he said softly, slowly removing Tarkin's hand from his shoulder. "I'll be fine."

Tarkin stared at him. He'd never seen him smile. What was he…? What did they do to him? Was it possible they… they'd helped him? There was no way he could sort this out now, and obviously he was failing at convincing Vader to run away with him. But… he would make it. They both would.

He was going to be okay.

With that reassurance in mind, Tarkin shakily nodded and backed away, heading towards the emergency exit hidden against the back wall. He felt Vader's eyes on him the entire time, and he paused at the last moment, turning. Vader was watching him, no longer smiling, but his face was soft with… Tarkin didn't even know. He'd never seen the expression on the boy's face before. If it were anyone else he'd almost say it was fondness.

"Anakin?"

Tarkin jumped at the voice from the hallway. Vader quickly turned and exited the room without another word. So that was it, then.

He was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

Tarkin would make sure of it.

Taking a deep breath, the former emperor regent fled the bunker.

The trek to the Drunken Dewback had been made in silence. Everyone had a lot to ponder. Imperial Center had become chaotic, with riots occurring on every level. The Jedi would be able to escape in this chaos fairly easily, assuming they could get out of the senate district in one piece. Obi-Wan felt his stomach squirm just thinking about it.

But this new development… Padmé and Anakin were going to run away together? Hide from the Alliance and Empire alike? It would have been reasonable if it weren't for the fact that Anakin had singlehandedly murdered at least half the Imperial senate and likely the majority of the Jedi strike team. He couldn't continue to escape punishment, because it obviously hadn't done him any good. Obi-Wan, Siri, and Padmé had all defended him tooth and nail to prevent further punishment. And this was what it had brought them.

Well, Obi-Wan mused, we did bring this upon ourselves as well. We knew. Gods. This is all my fault.

Taking a shaky breath, Obi-Wan coughed as they entered the cantina. He felt sick. He felt so incredibly sick. And his head hurt like hell.

"Guys!"

Jumping, Obi-Wan sensed Al before he saw him. The Zabrak smuggler rushed towards them, looking frantic. "Are you all okay?"

"A little banged up, but we'll be fine," Obi-Wan answered. He sensed Anakin shift uncomfortably beside him. He was still too angry at the boy to really say much, so he ignored the reaction.

"And the Jedi?" Al questioned softly, his expression denoting that he was expecting bad news.

"I gave them everything I could to help them," Obi-Wan answered honestly. "I told Qui-Gon to reach you when they got to safety."

"So I guess we wait? The whole planet's going to be on lockdown," Al remarked, looking uneasy at the concept.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Padmé asked.

"I can transmit Imperial codes. They'll think we're part of the fleet." Anakin piped in.

Obi-Wan eyed him, sensing his intention. He seemed sincere and apologetic ever since Obi-Wan had awoken, but he still didn't like this. It would take more than an apology to rebuild the trust he had shattered today.

"Even in a crisis like this? They'll just accept codes and be done with it?" Al asked doubtfully.

"They won't reach us in time if we leave at the right angle," Anakin explained. "Their ships are likely spread thin due to infighting."

"Sounds risky," Al noted nervously.

"The alternative is to stay," Padmé said. "Maybe we could hide in the lower levels? We could wait for the Jedi and then get them out of here."

Anakin stiffened, taking a small step away from the group. Obi-Wan immediately reached out and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him back to them. As he did so, a realization struck Al.

"Wait, you're not even supposed to be here!" he said accusingly, pointing at Anakin. "What's going on?"

"Long story," Obi-Wan and Padmé said together.

Anakin suddenly spoke up. "It would be best if we left now. The longer we wait, the more organized the Imperial forces become. They're still trying to recover from everything that happened."

"I won't get a transmission from Qui-Gon if I leave the planet," Al shook his head. "The Empire will pick up on it, stop it from being received, and trace it to the source."

"Are there any other smugglers who can get them out of here?" Obi-Wan asked.

Al frowned. "Not any I'd trust with Jedi. If we have to leave now, they'll have to lay low until we can get an extraction team."

"Then remain here," Anakin ordered, catching Obi-Wan off guard. "We'll find another way out."

"What?" Al looked at him incredulously.

Anakin furrowed his brow in annoyance, and Obi-Wan said, "He heard you. How else are we going to get out of here?"

"I can steal a ship."

"That won't attract attention," Obi-Wan droned, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Anakin continued, the sarcasm lost upon him. "I'll give him the codes so he can escape as well when he meets up with the Jedi."

Well, Obi-Wan supposed this would allow them to get away from the Alliance instead of try to explain to Al why they couldn't return to Ghanu'jivo. Still, he didn't like the idea of Al staying around much longer. He also didn't like the idea of the Jedi being abandoned. He supposed there wasn't a better option.

Sighing, Obi-Wan looked at Padmé, who also seemed in agreement.

"Am I the only one who doesn't like this idea?" Al asked the group.

"Don't worry, Al," Padmé reassured him. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah, you'll be fine," Al grumbled.

Anakin snatched a small data pad out of Al's pocket and typed into it, returning it to the smuggler before he had time to snatch it. "These are the codes you will transmit. Transmit them as soon as you break atmo and then jump to hyperspace when you're out of the gravity well. Don't wait for them to speak."

Al looked at the pad worriedly. "Okay…"

Turning, Anakin tried to leave the cantina immediately, but Obi-Wan held him in check. Still looking at Al, he said, "May the Force be with you."

Al glanced at him, his expression growing even grimmer. "Thanks. You too. Be safe."

Sighing, Obi-Wan turned as Padmé bade Al goodbye. Anakin watched him shyly. When Padmé was finished talking, the three exited the cantina together.

"Where are we going to find a ship?" Padmé asked no one in particular.

"There are multiple hangars in the area. Statistically, one of them should have a ship in it." Anakin stated, his voice a little soft. It seemed he was at least somewhat guilty for his actions, which eased the pulsating anger that Obi-Wan had been desperately fighting ever since he'd woken up.

"Then let's get to it," Obi-Wan said, guiding Anakin and leading the group.

The search was thankfully quick, and they managed to discover a ship that looked to be in decent shape. It was unguarded except for docking clamps, which Obi-Wan and Anakin removed with the Force. The three climbed aboard and settled in the small cockpit as Anakin hotwired the engine to start. Despite the loud sound of the engines, the silence in the cockpit was far more deafening. Anakin smoothly guided the ship into the sky, and the view began to grow black as they exited the atmosphere.

Anakin reached for the navicomputer to input coordinates and then paused, looking at Padmé and Obi-Wan.

"Where to?" Padmé asked softly, looking at Obi-Wan.

Well, if they were avoiding both sides… sighing, Obi-Wan accessed the navicomputer and looked up the coordinates for Nar Shaddaa. It would be the perfect place to lay low - its dangers would be no threat to Anakin, Obi-Wan was at least somewhat familiar with the area, and Padmé could keep Anakin's rash tendencies in check. Obi-Wan would contact Al from there in a day or so, and he prayed that his friend would be alright and have enough time to escape with the Jedi by then. In the meantime, he would call Siri as soon as they exited hyperspace.

Once the coordinates were set, Obi-Wan looked up to see space engulf the viewport. They had broken free of the planet. Anakin reached for a console to input clearance codes when the Force suddenly rang with alarm. Tensing, Obi-Wan was about to ask what Anakin had done when an enormous fleet exited hyperspace in front of them. Feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach, Obi-Wan then gasped as his entire world shift, recognition slamming into him.

Those weren't Imperial star destroyers. They were Alliance ships.

"What are they doing?" Padmé gasped. "They wouldn't have come after the mission went bad! They'll get slaughtered!"

"They shouldn't be here," Obi-Wan agreed. Also, how was the fleet so big? It was far larger than the one that had been dispatched to assist them. Wait… were those Corellian dreadnaughts? But Corellia had dropped out of the conflict after Senator Bel Iblis' family had been executed!

What was going on?

Multiple fighters swarmed out of the ships' hangars, and Anakin gripped the steering yoke firmly, his knuckles white.

"Surely they won't attack us, right?" Padmé looked at Obi-Wan. "This is a civilian ship."

Obi-Wan put a steadying hand on Anakin, squeezing his shoulder. The man had better listen. "Don't fire at them. Let's see what they do first."

Glancing at the radar, Obi-Wan saw Imperial ships quickly approaching. The Rebel fighters flew around their stolen shuttle harmlessly.

"I don't get it," Padmé mumbled, shaking her head.

"Are the coordinates set or not?" Anakin asked brusquely. "We're about to be caught in the middle of a space battle."

"Yes," Obi-Wan answered, though he still didn't know what was—

Wait. Master Ti. She'd left to get allies.

Stars above. Corellia had never left the war. They'd just needed to regroup. They… the Alliance would actually have a chance to destroy the remaining fleets over Imperial Center. They could take the capital.

Obi-Wan released the breath he'd been holding as Anakin activated the hyperdrive. Al would be alright. And maybe, just maybe, the Alliance could salvage a victory from this after all.

Siri moaned. Then she gasped, her eyes opening instantly as she tried to shoot to her feet and fell back onto a pillow.

A pillow?

"Hm, take it slower you should, yes?"

Grunting, Siri turned her head to see a small green creature staring at her, his wrinkled face twisted in a soft smile. "Who are you?"

"Important, that is not," he said gently. "Rest you should. Rest your young one needs."

"What?" Siri stared at him. How did he know about her baby? Wait—how the blazes had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was the landing pad! "What's going on?"

"Ghanu'jivo is safe," a familiar voice said, and Siri looked up as Jedi Master Shaak Ti entered her sight. "Master Yoda had been coordinating with Senator Bel Iblis to reconstruct the Corellian forces. It seems we came back just in time."

Master Yoda? Wait, Corellia? They hadn't been a player in so long she'd almost forgotten about them. They were… so Ghanu'jivo…

"The families, the younglings—"

"Are safe," Master Ti finished for her, smiling reassuringly.

"Who the blazes is Master Yoda?" Siri asked.

The green creature chuckled. "Wise and strong Jedi. Once leader of the Jedi Order before the Empire. Handsome too, hehe!"

Master Ti rolled her eyes with a smile. Siri looked between the two. Considering the amount of power and light emanating from the little man, she could only assume he was talking about himself. "Not too humble, are you?"

Master Yoda sighed, leaning against a small cane. "Humbled I was many years ago. Had to go into exile, I did, far from my fellow Jedi. Protect them, I had to. Sensed me with them, Palpatine would have. But here now, I am, and safe you all will be."

His words, despite their odd order, calmed her more than she expected. Her hand shifted to her belly, and she sensed her baby's presence in the Force, still strong, despite everything. Stars. This child was going to be more resilient than Anakin at this rate.

Oh gods. Anakin.

Siri bolted up. "Anakin. He's—the mission—"

"Rest. Enough action you have seen today." Master Yoda insisted, putting a small green hand on her arm.

Siri felt her eyelids grow immensely heavy, and she tried to fight it with all her might. They had to know. She hadn't had time to look for Anakin more thoroughly, but in all this fighting… well, would he have helped or hidden? She didn't know. But she had find him. And she had to make sure the mission had gone well. Despite her best efforts, however, sleepiness overcame her, and she fell back onto the pillow.

Please let everyone be alright, she prayed as everything faded into black.