Chapter Three - Do, or Do Not

Cycellia

"No!" Jin-sé cried. She pounded at the door futilely. "Let me go back! I have to help him!"

"We can't," Kin replied helplessly, gunning the engine and shields and hoping against hope that the troops wouldn't notice their escape until it was too late. "He ordered us..."

"My Master needs help!"

Gunfire echoed outside, and something snapped inside of him. "We have our orders," Kin snapped. "And if you don't get up here, we'll be two dead ex-Jedi Initiates. Take the guns!"

Stunned, Jin-sé stared at him for a moment before slowly sitting down in the co-pilot's chair.

Kin forcefully shoved away the agony he felt all around him, the hurt and confusion from the disowned padawan beside him, and focused on the controls. He had only piloted a transport twice in his life, since the Agri-Corps required very little off-planet and he had never acted as a supply runner. Force, help me do this! Kin stretched out to the Force and his hands instinctively reached for two levers on the control panel. He pulled back on them as a report of gunfire echoed from their own ship's cannon. Apparently Padawan Corran had decided to focus on the present – hopefully that would be enough. Hopefully the distraction their ship provided would allow Master Geriy to escape.

Polis Massa

A polished glass window separated Padmé and her children – and her trusted friend, Obi-wan – from the eyes of Bail Organa and Master Yoda. Obi-wan glanced toward baby Leia, recording her name in his mind for the future, and cradled little Luke in his arms. Hope and Light – fitting names for a time so rapidly overcome by darkness.

Padmé spoke with a voice of heartbroken desperation, her eyes pleading with Obi-wan as he turned to meet her gaze. "There's still good in him."

Obi-wan could only look back helplessly, unable to respond.

"I know there's… still…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes slowly drifting closed.

No.

Obi-wan desperately reached out to feel the Force-presence of the woman before him, his arms still holding baby Luke. His shoulders slumped slightly in relief a moment later. She was alive – barely.

Beyond the divider, Yoda shook his head sadly at her futile conviction. Bail Organa swiftly looked at Obi-wan's face. His voice echoed through the glass. "Is she..."

Obi-wan shook his head.

Bail took a deep breath and began giving orders.

Minutes later, Obi-wan stood in the deserted hall of the medical center, watching the medical droids care for the twins while their mother was in intensive care. His thoughts were heavy. Would she live? The medical droids had stated she seemed to have lost the will to. But surely the twins were reason enough?

"Difficult, this will be." Obi-wan turned to see Master Yoda standing there, watching him with sadness in his eyes. "Better, it will be, if survive, she does not."

Obi-wan stared at the old master in shock at his apparent callousness.

Yoda shook his head vehemently. "Her Force-presence, almost gone, it is. If believe her dead, Vader does, all three safe would be."

Obi-wan stood up straight, something within him released at Yoda's focus on the future. He's right. She must be believed dead... "What if she were put in a healing trance?" Obi-wan asked.

The diminutive Jedi nodded, his eyes meeting those of the bereft Master before him. "Hoped, I did, that understand, you would."