Chapter Forty-One

They were all looking at him intently, which was understandable given the fact that prior to the last minute, they had all believed him to be dead. Anakin could feel the burning heat of those disbelieving stares boring into his back as he leaned over Padmé's prone body. He understood that everyone surrounding him right then wanted answers. Their hushed murmurs of disbelief rang in his ears. But right then his only priority was his unconscious wife. He was confident that she hadn't been physically injured when she fainted, but he couldn't attest to her mental state right then.

Undoubtedly, she had received the shock of her life. Anakin supposed that Padmé fainting at the mere sight of him was probably the least bad thing that could have happened. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for her to begin coming around. After only a few seconds of him gently calling her name, Padmé's eyes finally fluttered open.

She stared at him with the same stricken expression she'd had right before she fainted, an odd mixture of fear, panic, and hope. "Is…is this real?" she whimpered in an almost childlike voice, "…am I really looking at you right now?"

Anakin tried to smile at her through the tears that suddenly blurred his vision. He swept up her hand and pressed it against his bearded cheek. "I'm here."

The feel of his skin beneath her palm seemed to reanimate her and she lifted herself up to cradle his face in her hands, her trembling fingers skimming greedily over his features. She touched his eyes and nose and mouth in desperation reaffirmation that he was real. She whispered his name again and again, almost half-convinced that she was hallucinating. But he felt warm and vibrant and alive. The certainty of that made her sob with relief.

His mother had as similar dazed reaction as she knelt next to him. Shmi was weeping so hysterically as she incredulously traced his tousled hairline with her fingers that her grandchildren felt compelled to wrap her in a mutual embrace with sweet murmurs of comfort. Very nearly moved to tears himself by his wife and mother's unabashed display of emotion, Anakin threw a desperate look up at Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

"Is it possible we could do this without an audience, please?" he begged gruffly.

Obi-Wan jerked a quick nod and pivoted to address the growing crowd. He opened his arms wide and began herding back the onlookers that pressed in on them. "Alright! Alright! There's nothing to see here!" he announced in his usual droll manner, "Just a man back from the dead! No need to be alarmed. It's a Force miracle! Let's give them some room, please."

While Obi-Wan was preoccupied with pressing back the spectators, Ahsoka saw to the task of locating a more private area for the Skywalker family to have their reunion. In the end, she ended up directing an emotionally bewildered Padmé, a weeping Shmi, a stoic Cliegg and overwhelmed Anakin back onto the ship they had just vacated while entrusting Luke and Leia into Satine's charge. Padmé and Shmi were the last to stumble onto the ship, their disbelieving gazes glued to Anakin's back the entire time.

The decision to leave Luke and Leia out of the loop was also met with strident protests from the youngest Skywalkers who were adamant that they should be present as well. But after Ahsoka convinced them of the wisdom in allowing their mother and grandparents some time to adjust to their father's miraculous return without their background chatter, they settled down a bit. Once Anakin was situated with his wife, mother, and stepfather back onto the ship, Ahsoka tipped her heads toward him in a nod of silent encouragement and withdrew herself as well.

As soon as she did, Shmi and Padmé rushed forward to envelop Anakin in a fierce hug. His arms went around them both tightly as they sobbed tears of gratitude and confusion. They wept so earnestly that he wasn't sure what he could do to comfort them. From above their heads, he met Cliegg's stupefied stare in helpless appeal. Discerning his silent plea for direction, the older man shrugged in consternation.

"I…I wish I could help you, son," he uttered timorously, "But I'm just as flabbergasted as they are…"

Padmé lifted her head to regard him with a devastated expression. "They told us you were dead," she choked, "They all said it, even Obi-Wan and Ahsoka… Th-They told us that you were gone from the Force…and I had to accept it…"

"I know. I'm sorry."

His mother reared back to survey him as well, her lined features beset with a heavy scowl as she took in his appearance. "Where have you been all this time?" she whispered, "Were you being held captive?"

Anakin reluctantly shrugged from the women's hold. "Yes and no." He looked at Padmé when she whispered his name. "I thought you were dead. I thought Maul had killed you."

Shmi reached out to touch his sleeve. "She almost did die," she told him gruffly, "She and Leia both."

"I'm sorry," Anakin said again, addressing his wife sorrowfully, "I promised you that I wouldn't miss her birth and I wasn't here for you."

"It's alright," Padmé whispered, still dazed, "I barely remember that time myself."

When neither she nor Shmi made any efforts to elaborate on that somber disclosure because they were still clearly absorbing the shock of his return, Anakin glanced over at Cliegg for answers. "Padmé was in a bad way emotionally when Leia came," he explained gruffly before looking over to his wife, "They both were. It was very hard after you were gone, son."

"I'm so sorry…" Anakin reiterated hoarsely. The apology sounded trite in relation to all they had endured because of him, and he knew it, but he couldn't stop saying the words.

His mother took a step closer to him. "You keep apologizing to us, Ani," she murmured, "But why? What do you have to be 'sorry' for? Are you saying that you stayed away all this time deliberately?"

"No!" he denied emphatically, "Never! I would have never let you think I was dead, Mom!"

Padmé dragged her hands over her face in a futile effort to regain her composure. "Then where have you been this entire time?"

"On a planet called Mortis," Anakin explained, "It is a nexus for…it was a nexus for the Force. It's been destroyed now," he concluded in answer to the silent question on all their faces.

His wife jerked a terse nod. "So, this was the Jedi's doing after all," Padmé intoned bitterly, "They're the reason you were taken from us!"

"No, it wasn't their fault. It wasn't anyone's fault, Padmé. It was my birthright."

Anakin could tell that Padmé wanted to vehemently refute that explanation, but his mother seemed to understand and calmly accept the explanation. "This is because of how you were conceived, isn't it?" she asked him softly, "Because…because you're the Chosen One."

"Yes."

"Did you…did you go there to find your father, Ani?"

He offered her a gentle smile, realizing for the first time that the same question that had plagued him for his entire lifetime had plagued her as well. "The Force is my father, Mom. That's where I came from. It wasn't anything you did. You were chosen too. Like me."

While Shmi acknowledged that truth with relief and gratitude, Padmé sought refuge in her anger. "You stayed away from us for ten years so that you could be one with the Force?"

"I had no idea that it had been ten years until Luke and Leia came to me, Padmé!" he told her emphatically, "I didn't know how much time had passed. I was just as shocked when I saw them as you are shocked to see me now."

Padmé fell back a step with a stunned gasp, her anger abruptly replaced with crippling regret. "Luke knew. He always knew…even when he was very little. He kept trying to tell me and I… I thought he was grieving. I didn't listen to him. I should have listened… Why didn't I listen?"

Anakin gently took hold of her shoulders before she could begin blaming herself. "This isn't your fault," he said, "Please don't think that…"

"You needed me," she wept brokenly, "You needed me this whole time… I'm sorry, Anakin!"

"No. You needed me," Anakin countered, guilt leaving his words garbled, "I had no idea that things had gotten so bad."

"Would you have come back if you had known?" Padmé wondered aloud, half in hopeful desperation, half in accusation.

"I couldn't come back, Padmé. That was the problem."

"Our children rescued you, didn't they?" she whispered with dawned understanding.

"Yes. They did."

Shmi choked out a tearful laugh. "That's the reason they ran away. Now it makes sense why Luke has been so impossible lately! He knew…and he was determined to find you."

When Anakin nodded, Padmé stammered, "But…but why didn't Ahsoka say anything? Why didn't she tell me that she was going after you? Why didn't she tell me?"

"I'm not so sure she believed them either," Anakin replied, "but she wanted to get the answers for Luke because he was having dreams."

Padmé glanced at him sharply. "Dreams? What kind of dreams? You mean like you?" Once again, Anakin nodded and when he did Padmé's breath escaped her in a grieved sob. "Oh no, not again. Not my son! I don't want that for him!" The words were harsh and embittered, but Padmé refused to call them back, even when Shmi admonished her softly. "No! I won't pretend that having the Force is some sort of special honor," she muttered, "It feels more like a torment, and it has robbed me of everything! Must my child suffer too? Where does it end?"

Shmi placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's not a torment, Padmé," she whispered, "The Force brought Ani home to us."

"Yes," she sniffled in agreement, lifting her eyes to regard Anakin through her shimmering tears, "Yes, it did. And it also took him away."

There was a tense beat of silence that followed her disillusioned statement that Cliegg Lars graciously diffused. "You look tired, son," he said, "When was the last time you had a hot meal?"

His mother was quick to interject her own parental commentary after that. "You are very thin, Ani," she said, "And you look so scruffy. Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Anakin offered her a wry, affectionate smile. "Yes, Mother."

"Well, at least allow me to prepare something to eat for you," she insisted, "To welcome you home."

"Thank you. I'd like that."

Shmi indulged in several more tearful embraces and Cliegg solicited one of his own before they both reluctantly excused themselves under the guise of preparing a meal but with the true intention of leaving Anakin and Padmé alone to talk. It was evident that the young couple had many things to say to one another that would be better discussed without an audience. Still, even after Shmi and Cliegg had gone, Anakin and Padmé continued to observe one another in uncomfortable silence. There was an abundance of unspoken need between them, but both felt hesitant and apprehensive about traversing that emotional landmine. They were both fearful that the feelings unleashed would be too big to contain.

Finally, the silence became too much for Anakin and he asked with a fair amount of dread, "Are you angry with me, Padmé?"

Much of the stony ire drained from her features with his question and Padmé dropped her shoulders with a heavy sigh. "I've been angry for a long time now, Ani," she whispered, "But right now? I'm mostly in shock. I can't believe I'm looking at you right now."

"You don't have to just look," Anakin said, opening his arms to her, "You can touch me too."

With a small, teary cry of grateful laughter, Padmé went rushing back into his arms without hesitation. She held him tight, closing her eyes to savor the familiar weight of his arms around her, the radiating warmth of his skin, and how perfectly his body had always seemed to align with hers. She had even missed their height difference, and how Anakin would often rest his chin atop of her head whenever he held her. Padmé buried her face in the folds of his robes and tightened her hold.

"I never thought I'd get to do this again," she choked, "I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too." He leaned back to gently brush the wild tendrils of hair that had escaped her untidy bun back from her face, noticing the random threads of silver there for the first time. He fingered a single strand with a wistful smile. "These are new. When did this happen?"

Padmé ducked her head self-consciously. "Well…I'm not a young woman anymore. I'll see my 39th year soon."

Despite her offhand manner, Anakin's expression remained somber as he smoothed her errant curls back from her face and asked, "Are these my doing?"

"Yes. You and your children," she joked lightly. She didn't want to make him feel guilty, didn't want her ever-present bitterness to seep into this glorious, miraculous moment between them. Padmé tried to keep her tone flippant and carefree. But the words sounded forced, to herself and to Anakin. She held two fingers to his lips when he started to press it. "Let's not speak of unpleasant things right now," she implored softly "Please… I don't want to do that."

"Then what would you like to do instead?" he asked.

She offered him a rather timid smile when she said, "Well…you haven't officially kissed me 'hello' yet."

"Then please allow me to rectify that oversight immediately," he laughed, leaning forward to grant her sweet request.

At first their kiss was tentative, a sweet nibbling as they slowly reacquainted themselves with one another. And then it shifted and deepened, gaining intensity as reticence was beaten away by familiarity and familiarity gradually escalated into pure need. Padmé bunched her fingers into the folds of Anakin's heavy robes, gripping the material like an anchor while he kissed her fervidly and she kissed him back with equal intensity, the salt of her tears mingling with his own.

Padmé ended the contact far too soon for his liking. Anakin literally mewled aloud with the loss when she broke their kiss. She reared back from him slightly to regard him with a laughing smile, her nose crinkled adorably. "Sorry. Your beard is a little scratchy. It will take some getting used to, I think."

"I can shave it if you want," he offered, unapologetically seeking her lips again.

"I don't hate it," she reassured him between eager kisses, "but I do like seeing your beautiful face."

His answering chuckle was muffled against her mouth. "I like seeing your beautiful face," he whispered, "I love you, Padmé. I want you to know that. I never stopped."

"I love you too," she whispered back.

When he started to nudge her backwards against the nearest available flat surface with the obvious intention of tugging her shirt free from her trousers so that he could caress her bare skin beneath, Padmé danced out of his reach with a diffident sigh. Anakin emitted a disappointed grunt. She bit back an amused smile at his endearing pout. His reaction was so familiar, so petulant, so Anakin that she almost laughed.

"Don't look at me like that. Unfortunately, I can't stay in here with you indefinitely, Ani," she reminded him with that same characteristic pragmatism that he remembered so well, "I'm not the only one who needs an explanation from you. We have people waiting for us outside, most notably our children."

Anakin grudgingly acknowledged her argument with an agreeable nod. "Speaking of our children, you should know that you did an incredible job raising them, Padmé," he said, "Luke and Leia are perfect. They truly are."

Padmé chuckled wryly. "I don't know if I'd go so far as to describe them as 'perfect,'" she hedged, "But I'm very proud of them. They're good children…for the most part."

He grunted a laugh. "They do seem rather headstrong, especially Luke. When did he become so arrogant and willful? He's so different from the little boy I remember."

"Actually, he's the tamer of the two."

"You mean Leia?" Anakin sputtered in disbelief, "My sweet, little Leia?"

"Oh…I see she already has you fooled. That didn't take long."

"What does that mean?"

"Let's just say that you should be grateful that your daughter has chosen to use her powers for good rather than evil," Padmé laughed, "She can be a quite the little dictator sometimes."

That description seemed so incongruent with the sweet-faced urchin with whom he had become acquainted that Anakin found himself frowning thoughtfully. "I really have missed a lot, haven't I?" He had said as much many times already, but it was quickly becoming clear to Anakin what an incredibly massive understatement that was.

"Yes. You have," she agreed sadly, "But there's time to catch up, right?" She regarded him with a beseeching look, as if she half feared he planned to walk out of her life again. "You're staying here for now, aren't you?"

"I'm staying here forever," he replied, pulling her back into his arms, "I'm never leaving you again."

He wasn't surprised by the skepticism that lurked in the depths of her eyes, but Anakin hoped to chase it away with his touch. Many kisses later, Padmé reluctantly extricated herself from Anakin's embrace. "I need to go now," she told him, "I have a strategy briefing and, if I stay here with you too much longer, I'll be late…which would be in very bad form since I'm the one who scheduled it."

"Your husband returns from the dead and you're going to a briefing?" Anakin teased her, "You really know how to make a guy feel special."

"I see the last decade hasn't gifted you with a better sense of humor."

Anakin sniffed in mock affront. "What are you talking about? I tell the best jokes!"

Padmé stifled a burst of laughter which too quickly became a self-deprecating frown. "I really wish I didn't have to leave you."

"You're not leaving me," he reassured her gently, "You're the leader of an entire rebellion, and a very busy woman. I can keep myself occupied until you're done."

"Are you sure?"

He reached out and tenderly caressed her cheek. "I'll be fine."

She held his hand against her skin with a grateful sigh. "At least let me show you where you can get cleaned up."

Padmé afforded Anakin with an impromptu tour of the base camp as she led him to what he had to assume were her private quarters. The first thing Anakin took note of was the camp's strategic layout. It was arranged in a semi-circle with a large, open communal area in the center and what he assumed were private living quarters around the perimeter. Clearly, there weren't enough barracks to go around because there was a plethora of tents that littered the communal space.

He also noted how diverse the camp seemed, filled with every species imaginable. In addition to that, they all seemed incredibly fond of his wife. It didn't escape Anakin's notice how nearly everyone respectfully greeted her as "Commander Skywalker" as she passed by, almost mystified by her. The reality was mildly disorienting. When he left, his wife had been a former queen, retired politician, and aspiring social reformist. He had returned to discover she had added military leader to that long list of accomplishments as well. The realization filled Anakin with pride but also saddened him as well.

"Do you know that you have thieves and criminals in your camp?" Anakin asked, keenly aware of the faces he'd recognized from his former life as director of the GFCA.

"Yes. I am aware," Padmé replied dryly, noting his disapproving scowl, "But you find allies in the strangest places these days…and those are very hard to come by."

Anakin appraised her with a pensive look. "I thought you frowned on that sort of thing."

She shrugged. "What can I say? When you're on the run for your life that tends to change your perspective on who you choose as allies."

"How bad did it get?"

"Selling out a Jedi or a clone to the Empire can be a very lucrative business," Padmé said, "Especially out here where resources are scarce. I'm very careful about who I trust, Anakin. If someone is in this camp, it's because they've proven themselves and they belong here."

Once more he found himself lamenting that she had ever been placed in that position to begin with and, at the same time, he was filled with deep admiration for her as well. Her strength and fortitude amazed him. Not many people would manage to survive under the constant threat of death, but not only had Padmé survived, she had thrived and all while raising two Force sensitive children on her own. He had thought that he couldn't possibly find new reasons to love her after all this time, but Padmé was constantly surprising him. He suspected that she always would.

When they finally reached her barracks, he was surprised by how small and relatively bare her accommodations were. Beyond two beds and some sparse furnishing there wasn't much going on inside. It was certainly a far cry from the opulent apartment she'd had on Coruscant during her days as a senator, her parents' spacious villa on Naboo and even the modest mid-level apartment they'd shared together shortly after they married. Even the small addition that Cliegg had built for them on Tatooine seemed like a palace in comparison.

"This is where you live now?"

Padmé snorted at the disdain she detected in his tone. "I've lived in worse places, Ani. This feels like home, and it's been a long while since any place felt like that. Reminds me of Tatooine in a way."

"I'm glad you have fond memories of that dust ball," he grumbled, "That makes one of us."

"Why wouldn't I have fond memories? We conceived our son there after all."

While he stewed over that reminder and all the associated memories that came with it, Padmé folded up one of the beds to retrieve the large, aluminum trunk that had been stored beneath it. She flipped back the lid and began rummaging through its contents. "I'm pretty sure I still have an old pair of clothes in here for you." She briefly peeked over the edge of the open lid to quip, "Unless you prefer to remain in your druid garb. Though it's not a look I'd recommend."

"When did you become so sarcastic?" Anakin laughed.

"I've spent a great deal of time with Obi-Wan. He's a bad influence."

"I can't argue with you there."

She snapped the case shut and rose to her feet to pass him a neatly folded pair of trousers, a tunic, and a dark cloak. "I'm sorry I don't have anything more than this to offer you. We had to travel light so I couldn't keep everything."

"Why?"

"Why did we have to travel light?"

"Why did keep these things at all?" he clarified softly.

"Because they smelled like you." A profound beat of silence passed between them. Anakin struggled to tamp down his usual tide of self-hatred with her unreserved honesty regarding the years she had spent grieving for him. Sensing that, Padmé smoothly segued into the next subject, not wanting to waste a second more of their reunion on negative emotions. "Come with me," she said, "I'll show you where to find the refreshers." Clothes in hand, Anakin dutifully followed her as she led the way outside once more.

"We have eight freshers in all," she explained as they walked along, "Six of them are sonic but two have water if you want that. Being on a desert planet, we try to use those sparingly though. You'll find what you need to clean up inside."

"I understand," Anakin said, "But eight freshers for all these people? How does that work?"

Padmé tossed him an arch smile. "With extreme creativity," she laughed.

"Do I even want to know what that means?" he groaned.

She laughed again. "Probably not. We don't have a lot of boundaries in this camp." Upon reaching their destination, she turned to face him with an anxious smile. "Are you sure you'll be alright? Can you find your way back to my quarters?"

"I can manage," he said.

"The code is the same one we had for our apartment on Coruscant." She shrugged lightly at his questioning look. "Stop looking at me like that! There's nothing wrong with being sentimental."

She lingered for a moment, shy indecision flittering across her pretty features before she suddenly squeezed her eyes shut and surged forward to peck a quick kiss to his lips. When she stepped back, Anakin was grinning at her, obviously pleased with her spontaneous gesture. Padmé grinned back.

"I'll see you soon," she murmured.

As he subconsciously admired the confident sway of her hips as she walked away, Anakin's smile gradually faded as she disappeared from his view. Despite how flippant and dismissive she had been and her reluctance to go into greater detail, it was plainly evident to Anakin that she and their children had lived a difficult life. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for her as a young widow with two small children, constantly on the move and with very few people to trust because she had a relentless target on her back.

It was little wonder that there was an underlying cynicism and acrimony that seemed to emanate from her entire being now. She had endured too much in her short lifetime. He wasn't surprised that she had become jaded and disillusioned, but it saddened him that the abiding optimism that had once characterized her being had faded in the last decade. Anakin didn't sense that she was devoid of hope entirely, but he could also tell that her confidence in the inherent goodness of others had been shaken. That realization saddened him the most because he couldn't help feeling responsible for the loss. He was still preoccupied with those depressing thoughts about it when he entered the fresher.

Despite his strong feelings on water conservation, Anakin opted for a traditional shower instead of a quick sonic. There was something infinitely satisfying about the sensation of the lukewarm water running in rivulets over his skin, washing away the grit and residue he had accumulated in the last 24 hours. Afterwards, he set about the task of trimming away the shaggier edges of his beard and clipping the unkempt ends of his hair. When he surveyed his reflection in the mirror once he was done, the face that stared back at him wasn't completely familiar, but it wasn't the façade of a total stranger either.

His blond hair had been restored. His eyes were the same clear blue that they had always been. None of the physical traces of his former transformation on Mortis seemed to remain, though Anakin suspected that the changes he'd experienced had been more than surface deep. He couldn't deny that he felt profoundly transformed in an irrevocable way. He had the inherent knowledge that the unparalleled power that he had sought his entire life, the precious ability to transcend his own fear…that was finally his after what felt like a lifetime of seeking. Only when he stopped actively seeking to attain it, Anakin realized, did that power become his at last.

Feeling that dynamic energy pulse through his body, he studied the glinting blade of the clippers in his hand. He almost wanted to test his theory, to determine for certain if he had truly shed the remnants of Mortis, but he was afraid of what he might discover. After all, he and Padmé had only just been reunited and he could easily sense how uncertain she was. He didn't want to complicate things further or beg for trouble where there was none. Mortis was gone, and the life that he'd had while he was there had perished with it. Anakin was determined to leave it in the past.

Consequently, he convinced himself that his unremarkable appearance was confirmation that whatever changes his stay on Mortis had wrought had been transient. All of those changes had been washed away when the planet crumbled. The more he told himself that, the more he believed it.

And that wasn't very hard to do either. He certainly didn't look like any god, but no more extraordinary than any other human male. He was older now. Fine lines of age had settled around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Of course, he still didn't look anywhere near the 47 years of age that he truly was. The person staring back at him was still a very young man in his early to mid-thirties.

In contrast, the person he was inside felt as if he had lived a thousand lifetimes. He felt altered in a way that went beyond mere physiology. He had been reborn spiritually. His entire outlook on life had changed completely. How could it not when he had figuratively died and then been reborn? It was little wonder that he felt free of internal conflict for the first time in his life.

Anakin surveyed his neatly trimmed beard and hair in the reflective transparisteel before finally taking a step back. He was still rather "scruffy" as his mother had described him earlier, but definitely less unkempt than before. "Well…I suppose it will have to do for now," he muttered to himself.

When he emerged from the refresher sometime later, Luke and Leia were outside waiting for him. He stopped short at the sight of them. "Where did you two come from?"

Luke shrugged noncommittally. "We snuck away when Satine wasn't looking."

The explanation was given without the slightest hint of regret or shame. It was merely a statement of fact for which neither of them felt guilty. Anakin regarded them both with a stern look that bordered on amused disapproval. "Why do I get the impression that you two do that a lot?"

Rather than admit to their propensity towards flagrant disobedience, Leia changed the subject altogether by asking, "Are you going to the briefing now?"

"I wasn't invited," Anakin replied.

Leia stepped forward to take his hand. "I think Mom would want you there, Daddy," she reasoned, seemingly intent on leading the way.

Luke fell into step beside her and favored his sister with a quelling look. "But she wouldn't want us there and you know that already," he reminded her in a furious underbreath, "Would you stop being such a troublemaker? We're on thin ice with her as it is."

Anakin lagged against Leia's efforts to pull him along as the two bickered. "I don't want to get you in trouble with your mother," he protested, "If she doesn't want you present, then you shouldn't be there."

"She's planning a huge attack," Leia argued vehemently, "It's going to be dangerous, and she's going to need your help. But she won't ask for it. She never does."

"What kind of attack?"

"All I know is that she doesn't think she'll come back," Leia mumbled, "You have to make sure she does."

It didn't require much prodding beyond that argument to gain Anakin's cooperation with his daughter's plan. "Alright," he conceded, "But you both have to promise me that you'll stay outside. I mean it. I'm putting my faith in you to do this. Don't disappoint me."

Luke and Leia exchanged a disheartened look between them before they grumbled in unison, "Fine."

Anakin managed to slip into the briefing without causing much disruption just as Padmé was concluding her address. He kept the cowl of his cloak draped low over his face, careful to conceal himself amid the shadows in the far corner of the room so that he wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention to himself. Beyond a few cursory glances no one seemed to pay him much notice. For the most part the group's attention remained riveted on Padmé.

She was currently explaining away three-dimensional digital plans for what Anakin immediately recognized as Project Stardust…Sidious' Death Star. He was stunned to see it again after so many years though he wasn't sure why. The plan had been under secret construction long before Sidious had turned him. He had become aware of it only after he had pledged his eternal allegiance to his master. And yet, Anakin had never considered that it might have survived the old man's death. But, by now, he should have known very well that not all of Sidious' amoral aspirations had perished when he did. The past ten years were ample proof of that.

"…this battle station was built with a fatal flaw," Padmé was saying currently, "If we target the main reactor here, it will cause a chain reaction throughout the entire battle station that will prove catastrophic. That is where we will focus our fire power."

Rex leaned closer to peer at the plans, noting the spot she had indicated with a keen eye. "Why would they leave themselves so vulnerable? This seems like a rather egregious oversight."

"One of the chief designers of this battle station happens to be one of us," Padmé replied, "We have allies in places we never imagined."

Anakin turned that revelation over in his mind. So, there had been traitors within the Empire even during the construction of the Death Star, he realized in hindsight. At one time, such knowledge would have provoked him into vengeful fury but now it only filled him with grim amusement instead. Clearly Sidious had not maintained the tight control on the galaxy that he had imagined in those early days. Even after the Jedi purge and the terrible oppression that had followed, there had still existed people even high within the ranks of the Empire who had been willing to risk their freedom and an almost certain execution to oppose their Emperor. Anakin wished that he'd had the courage to do the same.

"…will be a coordinated attack," Padmé continued, abruptly shaking Anakin from his private musing, "While our forces will be concentrated on the Death Star, our sister cells will be simultaneously targeting key Imperial military bases across the galaxy. Afterwards, we'll regroup and make the final push to Coruscant. We'll face off with Preet on his home turf."

Someone from within the crowd summarized the plan grimly. "So, we're going all in on this thing then? This won't be our usual hit and run? You're planning for this to be a final strike against the Empire? It had better succeed or…"

"…yes," Padmé confirmed softly, "It's 'go big or go home' time, people. We either crush the Empire once and for all or we die. Those are the only options left."

A red-haired woman who Anakin recognized as Bo-Katan Kryze stepped out from the crowd and took her place beside Padmé. "This is what we've been working towards for eight, bloody years. We're doing this," she said, "We're going to hit them, and we're going to make it hurt. I'm standing with Commander Skywalker. Who's with us?"

Padmé responded to her show of solidarity with a grateful nod before addressing the group once again. "As I said before, I won't force anyone to join this mission," she said, "If you want to go underground, now is the time to do it. But, if you choose to stand with us, please know that your decision will not be made in vain, no matter the outcome! We will be standing for justice and that is worth whatever price that must be paid. I'm willing to pay that price. Are you?"

Someone from the crowd shouted, "I'll stand with you, Commander Skywalker!"

"So will I," said another, "Bo-Katan is right! Everything we've accomplished up until now has been leading to this!"

"It's time to make our stand!" cried yet another, "You've led us this far, Commander! We trust you to take us the rest of the way."

Inspired by that avowal and the near unanimous support of his wife, Anakin chose that moment to push the cowl back from his head and step from the shadows, declaring with the same unequivocal conviction, "I will stand with you as well, Commander Skywalker. I am at your disposal." Almost immediately, dozens of eyes snapped around to his face following that bold declaration, but Anakin only had eyes for Padmé, who stood staring at him in mute astonishment. "Just tell me what you need me to do."