Characters in the Prologue:

The Chosen: Anakin Skywalker

The Senator: Padmé Skywalker

The Child: Lúthien Skywalker

The Guardian: Sabé Janea

The Negotiator: Obi-Wan Kenobi

The Finder: Siri Kenobi

The Captain: Captain Rex of the 501st

The Learner: Ahsoka Tano

Cookies to everybody who got all eight, and even to those that got six or seven!

Important Note!

I've received questions about whether or not Obi-Wan and Siri's marriage was allowed by the Jedi Council in the epilogue of the first fic. So, I'll say right now: it's as secret as the Skywalkers'. Yes, Obi-Wan and Siri went behind the Council's back, which will have repercussions. But had they asked Yoda for permission, they would have gotten the same answer they did back after the first Talesan Fry mission, and they knew that.

To my reviewers (also answering more reviews to WYB's epilogue):

Obi's Mom: Thank you so much for the reviews and the fave! Oh, I've seen some of your Siriwan stuff before—it's cute! Yeah, I was hoping the epilogue would really deliver to Siriwan fans—definitely one of my favorite moments in the fic, and one of the most fun to write. And, well, as I said about, they didn't ask the Council. =S They knew what answer they'd get. And I'm so glad you enjoyed the Christian overtones! (It's so neat to see how many people have enjoyed that!)

So… the list above should answer your question about "The Captain," unless you don't know The Clone Wars. Captain Rex is Anakin's right-hand trooper. Nope, Obi-Wan didn't know… and with a war going on, I would imagine that chances are higher for an active Jedi mother to miscarry. As for another chance… well, I'll say this much. You recall that dream that Obi-Wan had in the last fic? The one with the little girl? ;-) Siriwan isn't so much the focus in this installment, but it should still deliver pretty well. ^^

Pearlmaidenredskyla: (Y'know, when I first wrote a reply to you, I had to copy your name. Now, I have it memorized, and it's longer than Grand Admiral Thrawn's full name! xD) YES, THE CAPTAIN, as in REX. Lol. No, you didn't mention it before. I know now. xDDDD Rex is first-rate, no doubts there. Hate to have to break it to you that he doesn't actually get that much screen-time in this fic, but I think he'll have a more significant role in the third installment. ^^

==Chapter I==

The Alternative

I would much rather say that every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before.

—C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Colors flashed and spiraled and flickered and crisscrossed and burst, lighting up the early morning sky over Coruscant's capital district. Those colors formed a spectacular work of art.

But that work of art meant the death of countless beings.

Padmé Amidala Skywalker watched the lethal performance from the safety of her balcony in the 500 Republica. Behind her, inside the apartment, she could hear the voice of the newscaster reporting on the battle, with clips of live footage.

It was cold out here. She pulled her robe tighter around her, eyes instinctively searching the lightening sky for a glimpse of a well-known starfighter. It was futile, of course—even with macrobinocs, she probably wouldn't be able to see the battle clearly enough.

She felt a roll in her womb and pressed a hand to her swollen belly. She had the vague thought that five months of pregnancy with Lúthien hadn't made her this large—the baby must be big. She wondered if, even from within the womb, her new child could sense the deaths, just like Lúthien could.

A moment later, Padmé felt a tug on her robe and looked down. "N'a-kee-tula," she breathed, "what are you doing out here? It's cold."

Three-year-old Lúthien Skywalker looked up at her mother, her big blue eyes mournful. "I wanna be wit' you."

Padmé's expression turned sympathetic. "You can feel it, can't you?"

Lúthien nodded wordlessly.

"Oh, honey." Padmé bent down and scooped up her daughter, holding her to the side. "Let's go inside," she decided. "It's cold out here, hmm?"

"O-kay." Lúthien laid her head on her mother's shoulder and stared up at the sky. Padmé let her look a few moments longer, and felt the toddler's hand drift down to rest on her belly. The little girl relaxed almost immediately.

"Come on," Padmé murmured, slowly returning indoors.

A beam of blue plasma seared through fabric, flesh, and bone…

And then it was over.

Count Dooku sank to his knees, the black stumps where his hands had been just moments before now burning with pain. He let out a quiet hiss, his only audible concession to the maiming.

His own blade crossed with Skywalker's, mere inches from his neck.

"Good, Anakin—good!" he heard Darth Sidious laugh. "Why don't you kill him?"

Dooku stared at his master, stunned. Kill… kill him? He looked up at Skywalker, at the storm roiling just beneath the surface of his blue, blue eyes.

And then he knew.

He knew.

"I shouldn't," the boy ground out, visibly trembling with the force of the storm within.

"Skywalker!" Dooku said, before Sidious could repeat his veiled command. "Jedi Skywalker, don't…"

The boy's face turned incredulous. "Don't what?" he spat. "You told me to use my fear and anger, and now that I have you on your knees, you're backpedaling!"

"Yes," Dooku said, with more boldness than he felt.

"Anakin, don't listen to him!" Sidious warned. "Kill—"

"Because I understand now," Dooku continued desperately, some long-buried part of him trying to reach the purer part of the boy. The part that would not kill a disarmed man.

"Understand—" Skywalker began, but Dooku cut him off, too.

"That's what being this close to death does to you," he said, almost wryly. Almost. "If you—"

"Anakin, he's filling your head with—"

"—kill me now, out of hatred, you'll open yourself to a lifetime of darkness," Dooku continued, his more powerful voice overriding his master's. Former master's. "And when you come to the end of it, you will be broken and alone."

The boy's expression did not change, but his sense in the Force did—minutely, but a shift, nonetheless. He was listening. Dooku was getting through.

"Anakin—"

"Look at me, Anakin Skywalker!" Dooku urged, not in the voice of a broken enemy but in the voice of a Jedi Master. A Jedi Master desperate to keep a young Knight from falling. "Do you see where I am? Do you know how I got here? Do you want to end up here someday?"

Something flashed through the stormy blue eyes—Dooku wasn't certain what. Memory, perhaps. But as soon as he saw it, he knew once more.

And this time, he knew that he'd won.

"Anakin," he said gently, and saw the boy flinch at the use of his given name, "I'll come with you. I'll surrender. I'll give you whatever data you require—I'll help you end this war. Please."

He didn't dare look at Sidious, but he could feel the Sith Master's ice-blue eyes burning twin holes of hatred straight into his skull and out through the other side. Sidious didn't dare urge so strongly now—at best, he'd look petty, and at worst, he could possibly damage the boy's trust in him.

And that was something Sidious would not—dared not—risk.

The boy took one last glance at the Chancellor, as if begging him to understand. Dooku wasn't certain that he himself understood.

Anakin Skywalker stepped back and deactivated both sabers.

Dooku released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, sensing a crucial shift in the Force. Myriads of possibilities opened up before him, threads of destinies skewed and tangled but leading to one inexorable point of light.

Anakin Skywalker should have killed him. He should have killed him, and he did not, though he had had the perfect opportunity.

Minutes before, Dooku had believed the so-called "Chosen One" to be half-Sith already. But even a being only half-Sith would have taken that opportunity.

The boy was a Jedi now.

Perhaps there was something to that "Chosen One" business, after all.

He felt cold and damp, and he trembled at the sensation. Cold was a feeling that he still had not quite gotten used to, even after living fourteen years off his desert homeworld.

Anakin Skywalker backed away from the Chancellor and the Count, eyes flicking back and forth between the two. He saw… something… there, and he wished he knew what it was.

He clipped both his and Dooku's lightsabers to his belt and hurried over to Obi-Wan's side. He didn't bother to open Palpatine's binders—not yet. With the Chancellor's almost disturbing insistence to kill Dooku, Anakin worried that a freed Palpatine might try to kill the Sith Lord himself.

In which case, Dooku just might be able to still pull a skifter out of his sleeve.

Keeping his eyes on the incapacitated pair, he lifted the fallen platform off of his former Master's legs and knelt by his side.

"Anakin, leave him!" Palpatine urged, and Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. "There's no time!" He saw Dooku give the Chancellor a measured look that Anakin couldn't decipher.

Leave Obi-Wan? The Negotiator, the decorated general, the Jedi Master? The man who was both father and brother to him? Leave that Obi-Wan?

Right. Maybe in a million years, if he ever got that old.

Obi-Wan was alive. Therefore, he was going to make it out alive.

That simple.

Anakin stared hard at the man who was like a grandfather to him, durasteel in his voice. "His fate will be the same as ours."

Something flashed in Dooku's dark eyes. Triumph? No… No, more like… vindication. How odd.

With the ease of one who'd performed this duty more times than he wanted to recall, Anakin lifted Obi-Wan onto his back and called Obi-Wan's lightsaber to his belt. "Hold in there, Master," he whispered, trotting back over to Palpatine and Dooku. The latter was standing once more, despite the pain still radiating off of him.

"Don't like it when it happens to you, do you?" Anakin muttered, opening Palpatine's binders with a flicker of the Force. He knew that Dooku heard him, but the old man apparently chose not to respond. Palpatine stood, and Anakin turned fully to Dooku.

"All right, Count, we're going to get to a hangar, and we're going to get out of here before this whole place goes to chaos," Anakin announced. "I don't care if you don't have hands anymore—if you can't keep up, I won't be coming back for you. Got it?"

"Understood," Dooku said gravely. "Don't worry, Jedi Skywalker—I want to escape this ship as much as you do."

"Somehow, I think you do," Anakin muttered wryly, jogging for the stairs.

Halfway up the steps, his burden stirred. "Ana—Anakin?"

Hmm, apparently, not only had Obi-Wan woken up, but he'd already noticed their tagalong. "Yes, Master?"

"What in blazes—"

"Master?"

"Yes?"

"Can I let you down now? You're kind of heavy."

Obi-Wan shifted his weight backwards, and for a moment, Anakin almost lost his footing on the steps. But Obi-Wan landed safely on his feet, and Anakin steadied himself. When he looked up, he was looking directly into his former Master's grey-blue eyes.

"Well, doesn't this look familiar," Obi-Wan murmured dryly, snatching his lightsaber from Anakin's belt, turning, and heading up the stairs. Guess that concussion wasn't enough to hold him down. Wait a second—familiar…

Then it hit him. Hando Anaka, and being prisoners alongside Dooku. Oh great, Obi-Wan just had to bring up that memory, didn't he? Anakin scowled and followed, hearing the older men's footsteps behind him.

The turbolift shaft hadn't been fun. At one side of the shaft, Palpatine had been dangling from Anakin's leg, and at the other side, Dooku had been dangling upside-down from Obi-Wan's grip.

But as awkward as that had been, it was nothing compared to the humiliation of being caught in…

"Ray shields." That was Dooku's voice, and he sounded as disgusted with himself as Obi-Wan felt.

"Wait a minute!" Obi-Wan protested. "How did this happen? We're smarter than this!"

"Apparently not," Anakin countered, planting his fists on his hips and casting an evaluating look at the light shimmering around them.

Dooku looked as if he had something witty—and probably unhelpful—to say, but let it slide. Good idea. The man was in deep enough already, and seeing as how he had already lost both hands to Anakin, he didn't need to provoke the boy any further.

"I say, patience," Anakin added, looking Obi-Wan in the eye.

"Patience," Obi-Wan echoed, folding his arms and nodding. His former Padawan… and patience. Water and oil had a better chance of mixing than Anakin Impetuosity Skywalker and patience.

"Yes," Anakin nodded back, sounding a bit more certain than he felt. "Artoo will be along in a few moments, and then… he'll release the ray shields."

"How delightful," Dooku remarked, to no one in particular. "I've always wanted to be rescued by a droid."

At that moment, they heard an electronic wail, and R2-D2 came careening out of one hall and smack into the doorjamb on the opposite side. He rebounded, regained his balance, and literally shook himself. Obi-Wan blinked—that little astromech really did have all the personality of a sentient being.

Behind him, Dooku and Palpatine turned to face the droid as Anakin said, "See? No problem."

"Anakin, there are always prob—"

The words hadn't even finished leaving Obi-Wan's mouth before droidekas rolled in from the same hall R2 had come. On the other side, super battle droids appeared, one of them telling R2 not to move. The little astromech shot a line of electricity at the larger droid, which gave a mechanical cry and kicked R2 over onto his back.

"No problem?" Dooku echoed, dark amusement evident in his voice.

Anakin glared at him over his shoulder, and Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't suppose you have a Plan B."

Anakin's eyebrows shot skyward. "I'm suddenly the leader here? I thought that was your job."

Obi-Wan blinked again. "Only just now are you finally acknowledging this?"

Dooku cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, if I may…"

"Well, I guess you're home free, huh, Dooku?" Anakin said bitterly.

Dooku lifted his chin and looked Anakin in the eye. "I told you that I would return to Coruscant with you and help you end this war. I will not go back on my word."

Obi-Wan arched a sardonic eyebrow, taking in the thundercloud expression on the Chancellor's face. "And I take it you have a plan?"

"As a matter of fact…"

"Padmé? Sabé? Anybody home?" Ahsoka's voice called from the comm division of the holo station.

Sabé leaned forward and hit the accept button. "Ahsoka?"

A quarter-sized image of the seventeen-year-old sprang to life on the console, in front of the HoloNet news bulletin. "Sabé, hey," Ahsoka said breathlessly. "Are you watching the news?"

"I'd imagine everybody in the galaxy who's not fighting right now is," Sabé said wryly.

Padmé entered the living room just then, Lúthien in tow. "Ahsoka!"

Ahsoka tilted her head at the new voice. "Padmé! …And Lúthien! Hi!"

"Hi, Aun' 'Soka," Lúthien said solemnly as she and her mother sat on the couch near the holo station.

"Ahsoka, what's going on?" Padmé asked.

"I was wondering if you'd heard from Anakin and Obi-Wan," the Togruta Padawan replied. "Rex keeps trying to get through to them, but they haven't responded since they headed for the Invisible Hand."

Padmé shook her head. "We haven't heard a thing from them since they came in-system. The newscasters still don't know where they are."

"Oh, c'mon, Padmé—cheer up!" Ahsoka encouraged. "They're big boys—they'll be just fine. They'll whip those dirty Seps and—"

"Language!" Padmé and Sabé said together.

"Oops," the girl said sheepishly. "Sorry."

Padmé sighed, rubbing her abdomen. "What about your end?"

"The Resolute's about to make the jump to hyperspace back to Coruscant," Ahsoka reported. "I should be seeing you later today."

"All right, Ahsoka." Padmé managed a small smile at her husband's apprentice. "Take care."

"You, too." The image winked out.

Lúthien turned to her mother, then, gazing up with large cerulean eyes, so much like her father's. "Don' worry, Mama," she said firmly. "Daddy an' Uncle Ben are gonna be okay."

"Ah, yes, the Negotiator," the dual-toned voice hissed. "General Kenobi—we've been waiting for you."

"'Scuse me," a battle droid commander said, brushing past Obi-Wan and bearing their lightsabers.

"That wasn't much of a rescue," General Grievous continued, snatching the sabers from the commander. Including Dooku's, but he didn't seem to notice.

"You're welcome," the droid almost huffed. Now, R2 was one thing, but how battle droids acquired this much personality, Anakin would never understand.

Count Dooku stepped forward, and Anakin could only hope that the Sith Lord was completely sincere about his surrender. It certainly felt like it, but Anakin couldn't be blamed for being wary of the man who'd been the sworn enemy of the Republic for the past four years.

"General—" Dooku began, but was cut off by Grievous.

"And –cough-cough– Anakin Skywalker," the cyborg continued to gloat. Anakin frowned slightly—maybe he was too caught up in his prizes to notice his boss's rather… maimed state? The cross-wired freak stalked up to Anakin and leaned into his face, reptilian yellow eyes against human blue ones. "I was expecting someone with your reputation to be a little… older."

Anakin smirked, knowing that, if things went well, that would be the most revenge Grievous would ever get on him for the destruction of the Malevolence roughly three years ago. He sized the cyborg up and said, "General Grievous. You're shorter than I expected." He lifted his chin, trying hard to bite back his smirk and not quite making it.

Too bad Ahsoka wasn't here—she was great at taunting.

"Jedi scum!" the general snarled, turning away.

"We have a job to do, Anakin—try not to upset him," Obi-Wan said wryly, his grey-blue eyes dancing.

Nearby, R2 tootled that he was ready.

"Your mission has failed, Master Kenobi," Dooku said curtly.

Only then did Grievous finally bother to acknowledge the presence of his superior, and when he did, even his cyberized mind radiated a sense of shock. "Count Dooku! Did the Jedi do this to you?"

Anakin felt a mental wince from Obi-Wan at the lengths Anakin had gone to disarm Dooku. But for crying out loud, how else could he have successfully defeated a man who could shoot lightning?

At least Obi-Wan didn't yet know how close Anakin had come to decapitating the Sith Lord. That… would probably not go over well.

"Yes," Dooku said coldly. "Once I receive prosthetic replacements, I shall dispose of them myself."

"That won't be necessary," Obi-Wan assured him, his face alight with relish. "This time, you won't escape."

"Artoo!" Anakin called.

The little droid promptly went berserk, extensions popping out wildly, shooting sparks, flame retardant, and lines of electricity. He released an electronic shriek as Obi-Wan whirled around, his lightsaber flying out of Grievous's grip and smacking against his palm. He tilted the ignited blade up to cut his binders, then pulled it forward to perform the same service for Anakin.

"Crush them!" Grievous ordered his Magna Guards even as the ship's alarms began to blare.

Anakin's own lightsaber now zooming towards him, he plucked it out of the air and activated it.

"Make them suffer!" Grievous added, backing away as the Magna Guards stepped forward to deal with the Jedi.

The next minute was a blur of blue lightsabers, droid parts, and violet energy from electrostaffs. As the two Jedi cornered Grievous, the cyborg hurled an electrostaff into a side panel of the viewport, shattering the transparisteel and blowing it out into space.

The bridge was now open to the deadly void.

As Anakin grabbed hold of a control station, he dimly saw Grievous be sucked out with the ship's atmosphere. Obi-Wan hung from the neighboring station, Palpatine gripped a chair and gasped for oxygen that wasn't there, and Dooku managed to tuck himself under a console facing away from the missing viewport panel. A blast shield swiftly cascaded out to cover the panel, shutting off the gap. Oxygen rushed back into the bridge to re-pressurize the room, and within moments, every last droid remaining in the bridge lay on the floor in pieces.

The klaxons still wailed. Anakin checked a console and banged his fist against it in frustration. "All the escape pods have been hatched," he told Obi-Wan.

"Grievous," his former Master concluded.

"Well, Count, care to let us in on any more grand plans?" Anakin asked sarcastically.

"It's not my fault that you let Grievous escape, young one," Dooku returned, a hint of frustration in his tone as he pushed himself out of his protective barrier.

"Do you know how to fly a cruiser like this?" Obi-Wan asked before Anakin could retort with something nasty. The two of them took seats at the piloting station.

"You mean, do I know how to land what's left of this thing?" Anakin corrected.

"Well?"

"Well, under the circumstances, I'd say the ability to fly this thing is really irrelevant," Anakin replied, already familiarizing himself with the system. There wasn't a ship in the galaxy he couldn't fly if he only had a few moments to study the pilot console—Grievous's old flagship had been no exception, and neither would his new flagship be. "Strap yourselves in."

They were going in, and they were going in hot.

"Open all hatches," Anakin told Obi-Wan, not looking up. "Extend all flaps and drag fins." He felt rather than saw his former Master comply.

The ship shook mightily as it neared the planetary atmosphere, atmospheric entry being something for which it had never been designed. Unlike Venators and Acclamators, this Separatist ship had been not been designed to land.

This was going to be fun.

He felt himself become one with the ship, just before it lurched. He felt the aft half of the ship break off. The thrusters were completely gone. He had just lost all directional control.

Anakin turned in his seat to glance back reflexively, returned his attention to his station. "We lost something." Understatement of the era, but if the other three men didn't realize what had just happened, he wasn't about to spell it out for them. He was under enough pressure as it was.

"Not to worry," Obi-Wan said, almost lightly, "we are still flying half a ship."

Not to worry. Riiight. Easy for him to say—he wasn't trying to crash-land this kriffing thing. What kind of idiot designed a capital ship that couldn't land?

He closed his eyes momentarily and whispered a prayer, then snapped his eyes open. The panic and frustration flickered and vanished altogether, peace flowing in to replace them. He could land this ship. He could.

Even though flames licked the hull and the viewport and his vision burned orange, he knew he could crash-land this gargantuan hunk of metal. He knew they would all get out alive.

The Force flowed in and around Anakin Skywalker as never before, singing in triumph even as more pieces continued to rip off from the main bulk, falling through Coruscant's atmosphere like meteors. The Invisible Hand seared through the sky, and it was redundant to say that they were coming in too hot, but Anakin said it, anyway. If he remained silent, his heart just might pound its way right out of his chest. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, made his clothes cling to him. His heart was a strange mixture of peace and euphoria, a-thrill with the lethal challenge of landing.

He heard Obi-Wan's voice report periodically—the voice of his former Master, his partner, his father figure, his brother. He wouldn't want to be pulling this insane stunt with anyone else in the galaxy.

When they hit a landing strip and roared to a halt at last, Anakin almost blacked out from sheer joy. He fell back against his seat, grinning like an idiot, then laughed weakly.

Obi-Wan joined him. "Another happy landing," he grinned.

Anakin just laughed harder.

99 Duesenflieger (99 jet planes)

Jeder war ein grosser Krieger (Each one was a great warrior)

Hielten sich fuer (Thought that they were Captain Kirk)

Es gab ein grosses Feuerwerk (There were great fireworks)

—"99 Luftballons," Nena

Author's Note:

I… never really liked it that Count Dooku died. I know that he had to, for things to turn out as they did, but even so… I'm not quite sure how I decided that he would live. Only that, once I did, it made sense. His survival of the Invisible Hand is going to be important in ways you probably wouldn't dream of. *shivers in ecstasy*

I'll explain Anakin's choice more in-depth next chapter. It certainly helped, though, that Dooku fought for his life, rather than remaining silent.

I know that I really cut down the battle scenes and the crash, but I have two good reasons. One, it would have taken me much, much longer to go into greater detail, because I would have had to play and replay those scenes over and over to catch all the details. Two, I don't particularly care for blow-by-blow novelizations of scenes from the movies in AUs—when I come across such scenes in an AU fic, I tend to skip ahead to where the story once again deviates from the film. If you want to relive those scenes, you can go read the book or watch the movie—they're better than any meager attempt on my part. ;D

Writing Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Dooku in this chapter was fun. I do believe… this is actually the first time I've ever dug into Dooku's mind. Heh, nearly four years of Star Wars writing, and I'm doing this only just now. But just because he's surrendered doesn't mean that he's exactly a "good guy"—he's getting a better perspective, but he has his own road to redemption.

Those scenes with Padmé & Co. weren't exactly necessary, but consider them neat extras. They get you better acquainted with the characters before Anakin reunites with Padmé in the Senate.

Sorry, but don't count on the second chapter to be up very soon—I've got Legacy of Thrawn to update. Once I've got a chapter up there, I'll return here. Promise!

Please review!