Precipice by shadowsong26
Part 2: Homecoming
Homecoming: Chapter 1
If Bail could have managed it, he would've slipped into Aldera City under cover of darkness, made his way unseen into the palace by one of the hidden exits he'd used to sneak out as a child, and spent a few private hours reuniting with Breha before he had to resume his public persona and reassure his people; a tall order, when he could barely reassure himself.
It might have been better that way for reasons other than his own weariness and selfish needs. Briefing Breha on everything that had happened-or, at least, everything that he knew-before any public statements or commitments were made would have helped. They had a long, complicated path ahead of them, and starting it with unclear objectives was potentially dangerous.
Still, there wasn't much help for it. He was who he was. Short of borrowing one of Padmẻ 's tricks and finding a body double, there was no real way for him to enter the city incognito. Besides, after his brief disappearance, it was probably better to keep his movements as open as possible, at least for the time being. Act as if he had nothing to hide, and hope that that would discourage anyone from looking.
So, despite his inclinations, he arrived in broad daylight, and went out to reassure the crowds that had gathered near the spaceport to meet him.
More have come than usual, he thought, scanning his gathered people. But they're quieter. Restive. Unsure.
No one knew what to make of what had happened lately, and he felt a brief stab of guilt at the thought. It was his duty, not only to represent Alderaan to the rest of the galaxy, but to explain and represent what was going on in the rest of the galaxy to his people. He had gotten too caught up in the rush of events. He had failed them in that.
And I'm not going to do much better now, he acknowledged in the privacy of his own mind. He had to balance the need to reassure them with the need to placate any of Palpatine's eavesdroppers. And, unfortunately, the second goal had to take priority. Until he and Padmẻ could build their coalition, until the Jedi could build momentum, he had to maintain his position. He had to play his part.
He held up a hand for attention, as a helpful staff member passed him a microphone. "My people," he began, then drew on all the oratorical skill he possessed to make platitudes sound like promises. "Many things have changed, in the capital and in the galaxy as a whole. One thing I can and will confirm for you is that the war with the Confederacy of Independant Systems has ended. Count Dooku, General Grievous, and the majority of the Separatist Council have been killed, and their congress has been dissolved." There had been no one left to make a formal surrender, or he would have thrown that in, too.
A low murmur spread through the assembled citizens at his announcement, and he waited for it to run its course.
"There are questions that remain unanswered," he continued. "Among them, how to reintegrate those systems that succeeded, and what will become of the clone soldiers. I will be returning to the capital soon, to aid my fellow Senators in the effort to find answers for those questions." Along with others that he didn't dare mention just yet. But what he'd said should be safe enough.
He thought he detected a faint note of relief in the response. If only because I've let them know that our Senate won't be disbanded. That some level of democracy will still persist, despite what Palpatine has done.
It wasn't-yet-a lie. But he doubted the Senate would last any longer than it took Palpatine to replace it with some other bureaucracy, one he controlled completely. It would be a gradual process, probably, but there would come a time when the last vestiges of the Republic he had spent his entire adult life serving were gone.
Unless we can depose him before that happens.
"As I said," he told them, pushing that worry aside for now, "many things have changed. And we will likely see more changes in the coming weeks and months, as the galaxy as a whole returns to peace and stability."
And here came the tricky part-how to phrase what he next said to accomplish both goals of this impromptu speech, without limiting any future direction he and Breha might take. "I ask you to remember that we of Alderaan have long existed as a shining example of peace for our neighbors. The galaxy has changed, but that role we have played need not follow suit. A new age has begun, and it is my hope that Alderaan will continue to serve as a beacon, a guide towards peace-" he stopped himself before adding 'and liberty,' just barely "-in the galaxy."
He stepped back from the microphone to somewhat ragged applause. He hoped he had pulled it off-that Palpatine's eyes and ears would take that as Bail urging his people to keep their heads down and support the new regime. All in the name of the 'peace' the Emperor had promised them.
But that those who valued freedom, and justice- true peace-would read it as a reassurance that he had no intentions of betraying those ideals, despite the dangers of the New Order. Or even, perhaps, as a call to action. Covert, perhaps, but action nonetheless.
Only time would tell.
For now, the crowd at least seemed mollified. Some of the tension in the air had dissipated. He was able to make his way over to the waiting speeder and back to the palace without any further incident.
Of course, once he was there, he had to provide the same reassurances to members of the planetary government. And they, unlike the crowd at the spaceport, would be able to ask questions.
He made it through as best he could, careful to weigh every word he said and promise nothing other than his diligence and to remain in close contact in the future.
With the expertise gained in a lifetime of politics, he dodged any and all questions about where he'd been since the Republic had fallen.
Finally, after close to an hour, he managed to catch Breha's eye through the crowd. She nodded once and then, with the firm serenity he so adored, summarily ended the session.
Without waiting for the courtiers to dissipate, she crossed the room to claim his arm and all but drag him somewhere more private.
Not that he objected, of course.
As soon as the door to their rooms slid shut behind them he pulled her close, burying his face in her veiled hair and just breathing her in for a moment. It had been-hard; harder than he'd been able to acknowledge until now, to watch Padmẻ and General Skywalker clinging to each other and their children. Finally allowed to be open about their relationship, if only with their closest friends and allies, and yet-
Bail thanked every god he'd ever heard of that he and Breha had never had to endure that. And never would. For all that their respective duties sometimes required long separations, they could be-and usually were-in constant contact, even when they couldn't touch.
And for all the-for all the children he and Breha had lost, for all he envied Padmẻ her twins, to have to give a child up the way they had, to know their was far away and have to pretend the child was dead…
No, he didn't really envy them that much after all.
Breha curled into him, holding on almost as tight. She had been worried about him; he knew that much. They'd spoken-briefly, and very circumspect-while he was en route here, and while she hadn't exactly reproached him for not contacting her sooner…
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry."
She nodded, then pulled back. "Tell me?" she asked.
He took her hand and guided her over to a seat and told her everything.
Everything he'd seen, everything he'd done, since C-3PO had called him to Padmẻ 's apartment on the night the Temple fell. What he and Padmẻ and the Jedi had started. The lies they had woven to protect the children.
Even eliding over the more gruesome details-she didn't need to be haunted by the images of dead children on the Temple steps, or the sound of what he had been so sure were Skywalker's dying breaths-it took him over an hour.
Breha, dark eyes solemnly fixed on him, heard him out without interrupting. When he finished, she quietly asked, "It's really that bad?"
He nodded.
She closed her eyes and took a breath. "So, we're still at war."
"I don't know that we'll be able to avoid it," he admitted. "Technically , there are legitimate, nonviolent ways to remove him from power…"
"But he controls all those avenues," she finished for him.
"Yes," he said. "It won't be open war for a while, though," he added. "Or at least I don't think it will. And maybe-maybe the Jedi, with our help, will be able to end this before it comes to that."
She shook her head. "We can't count on that. They are too few, and the problem too large." She opened her eyes again.
"I know," he said.
"What, exactly, will we be doing?" Breha asked.
"My role, I think, will be mostly coordinating," Bail said. "I have contacts I plan to cultivate in the Senate, and a few outside the official power structures."
"We're well-positioned for that," she said thoughtfully. "We've always been fairly open to immigration. If I relax those regulations a little farther, as a show of faith in the new regime's ability to keep the peace…"
"We can move people in and out." It would make his work easier, for sure. It also put his home and family at a greater risk than he'd wanted, but-
As she'd said, the problem was too large to hold back. Besides, Breha made her own choices. She always had. And she was good at this-part of what had freed him up to focus on diplomacy, on his work in the Senate, was her sheer genius for administration and organization. He was the diplomat, she was the leader. Between the two of them, they had kept Alderaan safe and strong, despite the troubled times.
"And supplies," she said. "I'll have to review a few things, but we'll do whatever we can to support your revolution."
He smiled at her and brushed a strand of her hair aside. "I'm sorry, Breha. I wish I had brought better news home to you. And I'm sorry for committing to this-committing both of us to this, before discussing it with you." Because, practically speaking, he wouldn't be able to do this without her. Once he'd gotten involved, it was only a matter of time before his wife did, as well.
She shook her head and smiled wryly up at him. "You can't help the news you brought. Only what you do with it. And what you're doing is exactly what you should be doing."
He kissed her softly. "Thank you," he said.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "You probably shouldn't tell me everything," she said, with a faint hint of regret. "I should have some level of plausible deniability. Just in case."
He nodded, leaning his head against hers. "All right. Will you trust me to decide how much to tell you?"
"Of course," she said. "But Bail-don't do this again, all right?" She pulled away to look at him, to meet his eyes, to make sure he understood her. "Don't disappear on me like that. We can come up with a code word, for when you have to be out of contact, but don't-I worry. And I'll worry more now, I know it."
"I won't," he promised. "Don't disappear on me, either, all right?"
She rolled her eyes. "Says the man who sneaks half-dead fugitives off Coruscant, and forms conspiracies with the most wanted men in the galaxy, and-"
He held up his hands, smiling despite himself. "I take your point, my love. I'm the reckless one."
"No," she said, a smile quirking at the corner of her mouth. "Just the diplomat. And spy, apparently."
"At times, they're much the same thing." He kissed her forehead lightly. "But I mean it," he added. "It's...it's very important to me, knowing that you're here."
"Where else would I be?" she asked. "You're the diplomat. I'm the administrator. Remember?"
"Humor me?"
"Of course, love," she said. "I won't disappear. I'll be here, waiting for you. Always. Just so long as you remember to come home."
"I will," he promised, pulling her close to lean against him. "Always."