"Why do you do that?" Obi-Wan asked as the Senator and the Duchess disappeared into the war room.
"Do what?" Anakin asked, wandering up to his side.
"Touch her stomach? It's not going anywhere, at least, not yet."
Anakin looked out to the giant ball below them, an untouched Mandalore, unable to meet his friend's inquisitive gaze.
"You've lived these past three years without touching her every five seconds. What's changed?"
For a moment only the background hum of a busy operations centre filled the void.
"More than half the remaining Jedi were killed. We've both been declared enemies of the Republic," Anakin offered two very plausible solutions.
Obi-Wan didn't believe him on either one. His silence in response showed that, telling Anakin that he should try again.
"I hope you never know the agony of dreaming your wife's death," the young man said quietly. "To go from the joy of discovering you will be a father, to the misery of knowing your love has granted her an agonising end. I would wish it on no one." He turned his head to Obi-Wan, his eyes dark with a pain so foreign Obi-Wan reeled. "She will live," he said firmly. "I have foreseen it but only after Captain Rex and his men rescued me. For those first three months –" he stopped and shook his head, feeling his chest clench again as he remembered.
He swallowed, trying to breathe and push away the image of Padmé screaming while her body was ripped apart. Struggling as his fingers flared with need to run over the living swell again.
"For a short time I dreaded our child and our future. Now that won't happen, I intend to enjoy every moment we have," Anakin softly concluded.
Obi-Wan was staring at his old Padawan in abject horror. He'd known none of this.
"Anakin," he began, wanting to offer comfort but not even knowing how.
"Our baby is a blessing," Anakin had somehow buried the agony and was now looking at Obi-Wan with determination. "Padmé won't die in this quest but if I do, if I never get the chance to hold our baby, then at least I will have taken every opportunity to make her understand," he looked to the room where she even now plotted to take back the Republic. "How much I wanted it."
"You will get the chance to know your child," Obi-Wan reassured, firm in this. At the same time astounded by Anakin's calm acceptance of his dark fate.
"I intend to try."
"I won't be coming with you," the Duchess was quite clear. "I will follow on the Coronet."
"Your unarmed Royal Yacht? We are going into a war zone," Obi-Wan calmly pointed out.
"A war Mandalore is not a part of," she reminded him with that haughty arrogance that made his heart warm. "And it will stay that way."
"Then stay. Here."
"I need her in the Senate," Padmé looked up, away from the plans she and Anakin were studying to remind them of the quite specific role the Duchess needed to play.
"You can do it alone," Obi-Wan told Padmé.
"No, I can't. Alone I'm a disaffected ex-Senator who is leading a well-armed Rebellion. Even my closest supporters will be forced to disavow me as a traitor. "
"Together we are strong," Duchess Satine supported her. "Voices for peace."
"Together you are vulnerable," Obi-Wan corrected.
"Palpatine's victims need to be given a voice," Padmé said angrily. "And they will have mine."
"And mine," Satine chimed in.
"Anakin, would you help me please?" Obi-Wan asked in exasperation, looking to where Anakin had crossed his arms over his broad chest and was watching the exchange in silence.
"Sorry Obi-Wan. I only fight battles I know I can win. C'mon R2."
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"Maintenance bay," Anakin began walking towards the door, a cheery whistle emerging from the blue droid who whizzed around the table to follow after him.
"Why?" Obi-Wan pressed, suspicious.
"R2's sensors are out of alignment."
R2 beeped a somewhat indignant response which prompted a head nod from his master.
"Yes, my sensors are out of alignment too."
"Your sensors?" Satine asked in astonishment.
Anakin held up his arm and wiggled his fingers in the black leather glove.
"I don't understand," she looked at the tall blonde Jedi, then looked to his petite wife for a more verbose explanation.
"Anakin's right hand was lost in a battle," Padmé was clearer. "He has upgraded the replacement, a number of times, with R2's assistance."
"And it needs maintenance," Anakin chimed in. "So if you'll excuse us," he disappeared into the corridor and the small droid followed with chipper beeping to which Anakin responded "yes we can do it now. Anything to get out of that debate."
An hour later she had a trooper point her to the maintenance bay, a cavernous room filled with spare droid parts of every kind. It was quiet except for one unseen corner where a constant back and forth of chatter flowed, Anakin's words answered with R2's beeps, accompanied by a constant undertone of the small sparks associated with low grade welding.
She was surprised when she happened upon them to see that R2 was not the one being worked on. Anakin was perched on a stool with his arm stretched out on the work table, three of R2's long mechanical appendages outstretched into the fine machinery, shifting with precise movements. The occasional flash of light indicated this wasn't just a checkup, the two of them were definitely modifying something again.
"Oh," she voiced her mild surprise as she appeared from between the shelves.
Anakin's head was already tilted slightly in her direction, he briefly looked up to smile at her in greeting.
"What's the verdict?" he asked, looking back down to his arm and pointing to the base of his thumb. R2 squawked an indignant sound, insulted that Anakin thought he couldn't see the miniscule fray in the wiring.
"The Duchess will travel to Coruscant on the Coronet. It will be escorted by the Negotiator and as soon as she drops out of hyperspace two of Obi-Wan's fighter squadrons will launch as protection, accompanying her until she makes planetfall. At that point she will rendezvous with Ahsoka and I."
She pulled up a stool and settled across from him, on the other side of the high work bench. Her gaze followed his and she surveyed the intricate layout of partially disassembled machinery.
"I thought you were just making an excuse to get away," she assessed it curiously.
"It occurred to me that I might not be feeling the baby kick because I can't actually feel properly."
R2 pulled away briefly, reached to a cache of spare parts off to one side, selected a delicate filament and held it up for inspection with a questioning whistle.
Anakin inspected it visually then asked "Is there anything finer?"
R2 rolled away, disappearing into the racks of shelving for a moment before beeping a loud affirmative. "How many microns?" Anakin wanted to know. Two short beeps. "Yes, that sounds good."
The blue droid popped up again and began integrating the fine wire into the circuitry. Anakin's attention returned to Padmé.
"One of the sensors was slightly out of alignment, and see there," he indicated with the tip of his pinky to where R2 had just finished soldering the new filament in. Her eyes followed with interest, nodding when she saw the contact point. "There are three joints that sustain most of the pressure when I use my lighstaber. On that one most of the essential wiring was starting to fray."
He withdrew his pointing finger as R2 moved in with pincers to remove the next piece of degraded circuitry.
"It's lucky you're here R2," she noted, glancing up at the blue droid who wheedled proudly and kept working, a small spark flying before he replaced the plate covering of Anakin's thumb.
"And I was making an excuse to get away," bright blue eyes twinkled at her with a roguish cleverness.
"Yes, Obi-Wan is probably wishing for an excuse of his own." She watched quietly for a few minutes and then ventured to ask "do you have any doubts about me landing on Coruscant?"
"No," he cocked his head and looked to her questioningly. "Why would I?"
"You're not afraid?"
He blinked lazily, smile growing as he admitted "I've had three years to get used to it. Besides, you follow your instincts, you're a great shot with a blaster and unlike the Duchess, you have no qualms about firing when necessary. You will have Captain Rex and his men with you, plus Ahsoka," he shrugged. "I doubt the politicians will put up much of a fight."
He tilted his head then, concentrating on R2's work. "I've seen you on that Senate floor. Without a Sith Lord to hold you back," his eyes turned glittery again. "You'll destroy the government. I wish I could be there to watch."
"Not destroy, rebuild," she corrected.
Anakin looked up at her smugly. "Whatever works."
R2 was now carefully piecing his hand back together.
"I will find a diplomatic solution," she promised them both, though still a little charmed by his utter distaste for politics.
She stood, rounded the table to his side and took his hand up just as R2 finished.
Running her index finger up the thin plating that comprised the curved palm she enquired "Can you feel now?"
He bit his lip, restraining himself as he felt her fingernail pass over every miniscule sensor. When she reached his wrist he curled his reassembled hand, both of them hearing the slight whir of servomotors in the otherwise silent room. His fingers each individually contracted up until they cupped around the back of her hand and captured her. Both their eyes enraptured by the sight until Anakin raised his head and looked directly at her.
"I feel everything."
Without putting his glove on he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, slowly drawing it to his lips. Padmé physically shuddered. It was brief, but he felt it and savoured her reaction to him. Her long elegant fingers curled around his own, the taunting of near-ecstasy subtly teasing him in the force.
"Poor Obi-Wan," he murmured into the intimate quiet.
"Yes," Padmé whispered, reached up and drew her fingers down his temple. "He doesn't get this for many years to come."
And he wouldn't, the intimacy of such a connection had grown from the heat at the beginning into this long smouldering burn.
They were alone for some time in the maintenance bay, savouring one another until the ship suddenly rocked.
Padmé hurried to get to her feet as a horn started blaring. A split second later Anakin's arm began beeping and he touched his com.
"Report," he urged.
"An Imperial destroyer just dropped out of hyperspace and they're firing on us."
"I was afraid of this," it was Padmé who responded to the hurried words and turned for the door.
"We cannot fire back," the clone trooper reported back. "Without killing our own brothers."
"No," Anakin agreed. "Padmé and I will be up shortly."
They'd raised shields and taken two more hits by the time they made it to the communications room.
"There's an incoming transmission," Yularen was touching a button and they all stood back from the projector as General Tarkin appeared.
His beady eyes travelled straight to Padmé. Her shoulders straightened so she stood tall but otherwise didn't flinch.
"Senator Amidala, you are a traitor to the Empire and a terrorist. Surrender now and we will spare your ships and their men."
Anakin stepped into the recording, solid at her back. "Don't do this General Tarkin," he advised sternly. "You're playing with fire."
Tarkin looked surprised to see him. "General Skywalker. We assumed you were dead. The Emperor will reward me most handsomely for bringing both of you in alive. And it is Admiral Tarkin now."
"We won't surrender," Anakin folded his arms in defiance.
"Then I shall be forced to destroy you."
Obi-Wan was behind the Imperial broadcast and out of sight. He softly issued an order to target their main laser cannon and take it out.
Tarkin's transmission flickered as the shot hit home.
Anakin's features twisted into a mocking grin. "We're not defenceless," he warned.
"We don't want to fight," Padmé tried to cease hostilities, to de-escalate the situation and find a diplomatic solution. "These are good men."
"They're harbouring fugitives, the pair of you have committed the worst kind of treason," he argued back angrily.
"No," she rebuffed. "These men defied their programming to save the man who had put his life on the line for theirs so many times. Surely you haven't risen to Admiral without appreciating that war changes people, makes them think differently."
Tarkin paused.
"I've also learned to do whatever it takes." He turned his head slightly to issue an order to a commander. "Launch the bombers," he said calmly. "If she won't come quietly then perhaps the destruction of her friend the Duchess of Mandalore and the entire city of Sandoon will make her more willing." He looked back at Padmé. "All those innocent lives," he taunted her. "Destroy them Captain," an order to his own men.
"No!" Satine lurched forward in horror.
Obi-Wan tried to reach for her shoulder and stop her but it was too late.
"Mandalore is peaceful, we have no weapons. Destroying my people achieves nothing!"
"Duchess Satine," he greeted in slimy satisfaction.
"Conspiring with a traitor and the last of the Jedi," he shook his head mockingly. "This does not bode well for you. Not at all."
Obi-Wan stepped forward now and sternly taunted back "Not the last of the Jedi."
At his appearance Tarkin seemed to pause momentarily. Anakin Skywalker surviving was within the realm of possibility. He was stubborn and reckless, he'd proved his abilities many times over the war.
Obi-Wan Kenobi represented something else entirely. The strength of the ruling council, the might of the Jedi order. Where there were 2, there was the possibility for many more.
For just a moment Tarkin paused to wonder if he had backed the losing side in this final remnant of the war. One Emperor. Two Jedi. And an army divided between that would battle itself into extinction.
Padmé's eyes widened as she caught sight of another monitor on a far wall, the Separatist ships they'd been monitoring all suddenly disappearing off their scopes.
"Captain," she turned her own head calmly. "Prepare the ship for lightspeed and set your coordinates for Coruscant."
"Milady," came the sputtered protest but she interrupted with a calm "Now."
She turned back to Tarkin, not passionate like Satine, stubborn like Anakin or stern like Obi-Wan, Padmé was calm and rationale. "You've no doubt discovered the entire Separatist fleet massing close by. They intend to destroy Coruscant, a final fail-safe instruction from Dooku. And they've all just jumped to hyperspace."
She didn't stop as all her companions whipped their heads around to confirm that, yes, the entire remnant fleet had suddenly disappeared.
"We intend to stop them. We would welcome a truce and your assistance. I don't think the Emperor will be pleased to find out his new Imperial Centre was destroyed by your negligence, because you were too busy obliterating the Mandalorian capital for no reason."
"Ready for lightspeed," Admiral Yularen relayed quietly. "Lady Skywalker."
"If you intend to capture us, you'll have to come too." Her final command was to her own steadfast loyal Admiral. "Make the jump," she then reached out a button and cut off the transmission.
She immediately turned to the Duchess. "I'm sorry but you'll have to come with us, we will re-negotiate the terms of the Mandalorian treaty once the Empire has fallen."
"But my people!" the Duchess protested.
"If he wants to find favour with the Emperor then he'll chase after the bigger prize. That's we four here."
The lines out the windows began to blur as they powered up and leapt towards Coruscant.
The hanger was a hive of activity with crews fuelling ships, pilots suiting up, troopers getting their final briefings. All the starfighters were preparing to launch the moment they fell out of hyperspace, the ground troops preparing to take flight in their troop carriers.
Anakin was standing next to one such troop carrier, palms pressed to Padmé's cheeks, foreheads touching.
"Live through this," she implored quietly, her hands coming up to cover his. "Come back to me."
"I will," he promised quietly. He leaned down a little further and kissed her softly. "Let Captain Rex protect you. Trust Ahsoka's feelings. Give your speech then get. Out." The last two words were enunciated firmly.
"I will."
They kissed lovingly, Padmé's fingers twining in his hair as she was swept away in the passionate kiss. His hands stroked her neck, his thumbs brushing her earlobes before they pulled away. He handed her up into the troop carrier, their eye contact not breaking.
Ahsoka followed up after her. "I am trusting you with everything," he instructed his ex-Padawan.
"She will live through this master."
Captain Rex and his team began piling in to fill the carrier.
"I'll protect her General," he promised. "We'll see you back here when it's all over."
"I look forward to it."
The Duchess Satine was handed up beside her, and then Obi-Wan came to stand by his side.
He looked Padmé in the eye as he gave her the only other protection he could. A benediction for her and their unborn child.
"May the Force be with you."
Her hand cupped around her fully revealed, heavily swollen middle. "My baby Jedi is," she promised in a breathy final word.
Anakin's worry broke into a familiar smile.
The Saviour fell out of hyperspace and the door to the troop carrier slid shut, as did the doors on the multiple troop carriers lined up along this side of the hanger bay.
Anakin turned and ran for his own starfighter, Obi-Wan by his side.
The twin fighters burst free of the atmospheric shields. Anakin veered off to the left with a squadron of bombers behind him. Obi-Wan veered right, heading straight for the planet.
"Form up," Anakin commanded into his head set, aiming straight for the droid carrier before them.
The ship hadn't even had time to bring its laser cannons on line when his team began their first run.
"Aim for the weapons platforms," he ordered his team. "I'm going for the bridge."
They dropped an entire compliment of deadly explosives, decimating the craft's outer hull. He saw out of the corner of his eye as a dozen troop carriers burst free of the Defiance and were quickly followed by a dozen more from the Saviour. Padmé's among them.
"Vulture droids," he heard a clone voice in his headset and looked up, focusing on his own present. The observation was correct, vulture droids were launching from a number of the Separatist ships and heading straight for them.
"Stick to the carriers," he advised his own team. "You're not manoeuvrable enough to take out all the vulture droids, and this battle won't be won if the carriers aren't destroyed."
He flicked channels and connected to the fighter squadrons just launching from the Defiance's hanger bay. "We need a hand here," he called.
"Coming sir," a clone voice assured.
He flicked back channels and asked "Obi-Wan?"
"We're through the atmosphere, no followers," he reported.
"I'll join you shortly," Anakin promised, leading his squadron up for a second run on the same ship. One more button touch and he was talking to his own men. "Let's finish this one off," he completed the loop back and led from the front, firing everything he had into the shield generator. It flickered and then exploded outward, leaving the entire ship vulnerable. A well aimed torpedo and he watched in satisfaction as the second control tower was no more. His squadron followed and as the last bomb was dropped, the ship jerked and started to list sideways. Fire now raging at multiple points. It's laser cannons gone silent.
A series of whoops started up behind him.
"1 down, thirty to go," Anakin reminded them.
"We'll get those Seppies!" came a jubilant call back.
"I'm going to leave you boys to it," Anakin grinned at the arrogance. "While I take out their master. Good luck."
"Go get 'em sir," Came the enthusiastic reply.