*Note* Everything that has taken place up to the events of the twins' birth is the same as canon dictates, EXCEPT that Siri is alive. And the explanation for that will be discovered shortly.
*Disclaimer* Lucas gets all the money I will never make off this. =)
The bar was a noisy place, and E'taan Delanit preferred it to be so. Striding around a sabaac table, he eyed each of the competitors pointedly. One or two shifted uncomfortably, while the rest ignored him.
A man with tan skin, dark eyes and dark hair, E'taan was of average height and a slightly bigger build than normal. While someone of his stature usually wasn't considered much of a threat in the seedy places of Nar Shadda, his attitude projected a sufficient mix of confidence and meanness to give anyone pause.
Thus he was working in the bar, watching over sabaac games. The wage was crummy, but then I'm not exactly here for the wage.
He'd already thrown out two cheaters that night; one a nervous kid he identified the moment the youngster came in the door. The other was a professional, and E'taan almost felt bad tossing the man out the door. Usually the regular players left their thugs outside, and the general procedure was a painful beating for anyone E'taan threw out.
So far the game had been clean. A few times he passed over players with an electronic scanner, but all were clean. There are other ways to cheat, though.
One man had had an exceptional run of good luck, and E'taan considered him carefully. He never won more than three hands in a row, and occasionally lost a good-sized pot – but he was methodically reducing the other players' piles of chips.
A niggling in the back of E'taan's mind sent him stalking purposefully around to the far side of the table from the man, where he reached down and neatly plucked the cards from the hands of a regular.
"Delanit!" The Twi'lek exclaimed, frustrated and thrown off his groove. "How long have we known each other?"
"Not long enough," E'taan replied gruffly, holding the cards up and passing a scanner over them. It beeped that all was okay, and he placed them facedown in front of the yellow-skinned alien. "Sorry."
"You're paranoid, Delanit," he replied.
"I don't think he is," muttered E'taan's human suspect. "I'm folding for this hand."
"I'm not cheating," the Twi'lek, named Ges'tile, said angrily, hands going still on the table.
"You're not," E'taan growled, stepping back and collaring a Rodian who had been entertaining a lady friend at the bar. "But this one is."
The Rodian had sputtered at first, then immediate began burbling angrily. What is this! Can't a being enjoy a good drink without being suspect?
"You're not suspect, you're guilty," E'taan said with finality. "You've been spotting cards for your buddy over there, and here you both sit with almost four hundred thousand credits in your hands."
Leaping to his feet, the human suddenly brandished a blaster. "Let him go, and we back out of here nice and easy." E'taan's eyes narrowed, and the man continued. "I don't know how you caught us, but you're letting us go."
"You're marked, now," E'taan warned. "What are your chances of making it to a ship?"
"Better than what we've got here, with you tossing us to the goons out front," the man said. "Now—"
A sudden hiss cut the air, and man screamed as a tiny dart lodged itself in his inner forearm and unleashed an electrical shock, freezing his arm. Immediately the bulky Rodian threw an elbow at E'taan, who ducked it smoothly and came up with an open hand, grabbing the green face and then slamming the alien's head against the bar.
The Rodian dropped with a cut-off warble, out cold. On the other side of the room, a Barabel had cuffed Blaster-boy across the back of the head to achieve the same result. In two strides E'taan crossed the room and pulled the blaster away, examining it.
"Very nice. Three shot weapon, disposable, but able to get through the sensors at the door."
Around the room, murmurs began flying around the room, some claiming they had seen the throw and others arguing against it. Ignoring them, E'taan retrieved the dart – and then he felt it.
"Dreso, I need a break," he called to the barkeep. The man frowned and glanced under the bar where the medikit was placed, but E'taan shook his head. "I'm good. Need to head home, that's all."
The man nodded, and E'taan ducked outside through a door in the back.
Surprisingly, the alley was deserted – no bums, prostitutes, or spice dealers. Someone, E'taan knew, was projecting a desire into the Force, one that caused the average being to unknowingly find themselves moving on elsewhere.
Sighing, E'taan glanced both ways, hand dropping down to his blaster.
"I don't really have a chance, do I?"
"No," came a voice from right behind him, "you don't."
Yoda was troubled. For the past week he had been meditating and scheming. He had never started a rebellion before – though he had put a few down. Now he was in the unusual position of being on the opposite side – with no credits, no army, and no Jedi at his disposal.
Obi-Wan had made that fact very clear – he would not assist Yoda in anyway except in the direst of circumstances or to take advantage of the best opportunities. So the little green Jedi Master was, in every sense, alone.
After two days of frustration and his mind chasing wild nek trails, Yoda found himself playing a droid a game of holochess.
There were several strategies in holochess, and a few might work for him in starting a rebellion. While Yoda usually favored a defensive strategy, such a thing was pointless, in that the Empire was unaware they were opposed by him.
Right, Obi-Wan was, Yoda brooded. He would have hidden out on some planet and waited for Anakin's children to mature. Only the revelation from the Force had prevented it, and while humbling, it was also a comfort. If Obi-Wan had known that that was what he was going to do, surely Palpatine figured the same now that Yoda had vanished.
Surprise was his best technique, but the fact of the unknown was his best weapon, Yoda decided. For the moment, almost all public opinion was behind Palpatine. In time that would be eroded as Palpatine's grand speeches became a reality to many. And thus, Yoda decided, a rebellion would have to wait.
But he could prepare. He could begin acquiring weapons and credits. And most importantly, he knew, he had to remove key players from the opposing side.
It was a holochess technique sometimes referred to as "sniping". In amateur chess, one player might set up a defensive line and then use a surprise move to eliminate a power piece. Though one such move might be enough to tip the balance of the game, repeating the process made it more likely.
And in the holochess of real life, he thought, we are behind many pieces.
Already Yoda was hearing troubling rumors. Darth Vader was hunting down surviving Jedi with the 501st at his back. Whispers of dark persons called "Inquisitors" were beginning to float through the underworld.
Alone, Yoda would readily take the turned Jedi, but he was no fool to try and handle him and several hundred clones at the same time. But these Inquisitors…they sounded like loners, Force-sensitive assassins who struck and left a quiet fear in their wake.
His mind made up, Yoda stood and nodded to the droid, whom he had soundly beaten. "A target, I have," he murmured.
As he hopped into a small ship that Bail had left him, Yoda thought of the millions of clones. Something would have to be done about Kamino, as well. But first things first.
"Obi-Wan?" E'taan's voice was low and urgent. "You're alive! What are you doing here?"
The Jedi glanced up and down the alley. "I came to find you, specifically. How are you?"
E'taan grinned. "Still in up to my neck, as always. Valara is doing well."
"Any children?" Obi-Wan ventured. As soon as E'taan's face darkened the Jedi regretted it.
"No," E'taan said simply. "We try, and have had everything checked out. But we've only been married for a few years. The Force will give us children when we're ready."
"E'taan…" Obi-Wan trailed off, his mind searching for words. "…I can't think of any way to say this except that you were right, which you already knew. The Jedi were wrong. I can't believe that every youngling, including myself, who once lived in fear of the AgriCorps but managed not to go there would come to think that what we did was right."
"It's done," E'taan said simply. "I've made my peace with the Jedi – besides, their sins have caught up with them. What are you going to do now? You can hide out with Valara and I."
"No," Obi-Wan said, tossing back his hood. E'taan eyed the sprinkling of gray hairs and mentally made a bet they hadn't been there a month ago. "I'm going to rebuild the order, but I'm going to do it right."
"Really," E'taan said, folding his arms. "And how are you going to do that?"
"Not sure," Obi-Wan admitted. "As soon as we're done here, I'm going to track down Siri. We're going to get married."
"You're what?" E'taan's voice became a low shout at that, but he caught himself and spoke in a whisper once more. "Guess you came to your senses fully, then."
"Yeah. She's still alive, E'taan – I can feel her presence."
"What's keeping you?"
"This." Obi-Wan lifted a small lunch contain from behind a dumpster. "Will you take him?"
"Him?" E'taan took the container gently, realizing that any sentient in such a small box could not be very old. The lid was cracked for ventilation, and he lowered it slightly, his breath catching as he took in a small, peaceful face. "Who is he?"
"His name is Luke. He's got an insanely high midiclorian count."
"Except in comparison to Anakin's, huh?" E'taan asked glibly. Everyone knew of the Chosen One's twenty-thousand plus count.
"His is the same," Obi-Wan said, his voice suddenly filled with pain. "This is Anakin's son."
"What?" E'taan nearly dropped the box. "Did Anakin – oh, I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan."
"He's not dead," Obi-Wan admitted hoarsely. "He turned – Anakin is now Darth Vader."
Horror chilled E'taan's bones, and in his mind all he could think was how? Obi-Wan and Anakin had always been his only heroes in the Jedi Order. The former for his help in escaping the AgriCorps, and the latter because he showed enough of maverick tendency that E'taan had dared to hope the Chosen One would eventually change the Order.
Careful what you wish for,he thought dryly. "I'll take Luke – but only on a few conditions."
"Name them," Obi-Wan said warily.
"You let me raise him how I see fit," E'taan said, counting off on his fingers. "You will be a friend, a distant uncle-figure. I reserve the right to tell Luke the truth when I like."
"Impossible!" The word burst from Obi-Wan's lungs, but the look on E'taan's face silenced the rest. Sighing, Obi-Wan nodded. "What else?"
"You'll train Luke in the Jedi arts, but as a tutor. And on my say so. If I'm to raise Luke, I will have full rights as a father would."
Obi-Wan's instincts were going berserk, but the Force suddenly flooded him with a sense of confirmation, and those instincts, tuned to the Force, calmed themselves in response.
"Very well. Luke is your son." Obi-Wan nodded. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," E'taan answered, a broad smile appearing. "I'll take the little guy home to meet his new mum. You're welcome to come by, but I suspect you've got places to be, and a woman to rescue."
"Yes," Obi-Wan answered simply, pausing for a moment before moving to the alley entrance. "I'll be around."
"I know," E'taan said, watching as his old friend donned his hood and vanished. For a moment, the man shook his head at the sudden change in his life, then glanced down at the little form in the box. "C'mon, Luke," he murmured softly, timidly stroking the down on the little head. "Let's go meet the wife."