Epilogue:

With the end of the Galactic Republic and the tragic demise of the Jedi, the advent of the Galactic Empire went virtually unopposed. The galaxy's new Emperor united the war torn regions of space and ushered in a time of security and conformity, instituting a vast array of policies all designed to centralize power and advance the imperial agenda.

The many worlds of the galaxy pledged themselves to the new state reluctantly, incapable of organizing resistance against the regime after the discord and destruction sown by the war.

But wherever there exists tyranny, so too are there heroes ready to fight against the oppression.

From the hardscrabble reaches of the Duscur Expanse come the Blue Lions, a savage militia of zealous fighters and stalwart soldiery under the command of a man they call The Cyclops.

Headquartered amidst the nigh unnavigable hazards of the Sightless Abyss are the Cinderwolves, a clandestine network of underworld operatives and surveillance specialists led by a mysterious figure known as Gemini.

Hailing from ports and planets throughout the Outer Rim emerge the Free Trade Coalition, a ragtag and decentralized alliance of similarly-minded smugglers and other ne'er-do-wells united by love of profit and love of freedom, occasionally rallied by the blockade runner Purple Princess.

Originating from deep within the Zanado cluster is the Emerald Star, a spiritual organization committed to preserving the faith and moral teachings from before the Empire's rise, directed by the will of the Archbishop.

And even in the shadows of the Empire, there are whispers of resistance cells banding together to form networks and undermine imperial authority, said to be under the guiding hand of one known as the Flame Hegemon.

Five years after the Empire's rise, these disparate alliances finally join forces, uniting behind common purpose to form the Rebel Alliance, and a new hope dawns on the galaxy.

AN – Things go pretty well for the rebels. Thales's death is anticlimactic. Hubert poisons his wine and he drowns in the bath. Shez learns what it's like to be a target for revenge. Dimitri gives up the ghosts, one way or another. Byleth still calls Edelgard mistress but only in bed.

Anyways, here are some extras.

Forging Friendship (Eventually)

A groan of pain was the first signal of her awakening, eyes momentarily fluttering open before clamping shut as the dull ache in her skull demanded attention. Hapi slowly worked through the pain, drawing upon the sensation to fuel her strength just as she'd been taught. Taking a deep breath, the darksider forced her eyes open as she sat up, taking in her surroundings and noting how different they were to when she was last conscious.

A small serving tray was set down next to her threadbare accommodation as her captor and rescuer took notice. "You've awakened," observed Constance. "How fortuitous."

"You," spat Hapi, eyes narrowing with ire. Spotting her lightsaber sitting on a nearby shelf, the redhead called it to her with the Force, thumbing the activation rune and scything the blonde's head from her shoulders.

…or at least, that was the plan.

Constance crossed her arms in disapproval and frowned. "I took the liberty of removing certain key components from your weapon," she informed. "Now may we converse like civilized beings, or will I have to demonstrate my superiority yet again?"

Hapi held her stare for several seconds, before letting out a sigh and lowering her arm.

"Excellent choice," approved Constance with a sharp smile. "Now, I imagine we both have questions for the other. As I am as magnanimous as I am splendiferous, I shall allow you to go first."

Padawan's Preference

Edelgard bowed her head. "Thank you for choosing me to be your padawan, master."

Byleth looked over her new apprentice carefully, her face stoic and blank as she studied the young woman before her. A small frown crossed her face. "You don't have to call me that," she stated.

Edelgard looked to her, uncertainty in her eyes. "Pardon?"

"Master. You don't have to call me that if you don't want to," elaborated the knight.

"It is tradition," responded the padawan neutrally.

"It is," allowed Byleth. "But you seem averse to its usage. If you are to learn from me, to be my padawan, I would have you address me in a manner befitting your comfort."

For a time, Edelgard and Byleth stared at each other, the former's piercing gaze appraising, the latter intent and patient. Eventually, Edelgard nodded her acquiescence. "Very well. Then, since I am to learn from you, I shall address you as my teacher."

Byleth offered a slow nod, the barest hints of a smile touching the corners of her mouth. She'd never had the opportunity to mentor a padawan before, but she had a feeling this would be the start of a beautiful relationship.

Paralogues of the Purple Princess

"You know, most people would be in agony right now," commented Lysithea.

Facedown on the massage table, Shez let out a loud sigh of contentment as she felt her muscles loosen in relief. "How could anyone think this is agony?" she pondered in bliss.

Wordlessly, Lysithea continued to stimulate her companion's bare back with a stream of Force lightning. As ridiculous as this was, at least the view was nice.

.

"Lysithea, come on! Please?"

"No, Shez! I am NOT giving you access to the navigation computer! The last time you plotted a course we wound up on the other side of the galaxy, all our fuel was gone, and the cargo hold smelled like bantha for a month!"

.

"Lysithea, no!"

"Please Shez? Just a teaspoon! Not even, just a pinch!"

The purplette sighed as she held the container above her head. "Lysithea, we promised to deliver these unopened packages of sugar and Force-damn it, we are upholding that contract!"

.

"Shez, please stop screwing the lid on the pickle jar so tightly," scolded Lysithea as she sat down for breakfast.

"What's the big deal? You got it open just fine."

"It's humiliating. Of all the things in the galaxy the Force is meant to be used for, opening a jar of pickles should not be one of them."

.

"A grappling gauntlet?" wondered Shez as she turned the object over in her hands, examining the device in detail. "It looks pretty fancy but I'm sure I can wrestle someone to the ground if I need to."

"Put that down!" snapped Lysithea as she yanked the object away with the Force. "It's not grapple as in wrestle. It's grappling as in grappling hook." She set the gauntlet back on her workbench.

"So… it's meant for rock climbing?"

Lysithea sighed. "It's intended to supplement your mobility in the event we run into any hostile Force-users. As you'll recall, lightsaber combat can get pretty… acrobatic. If you ever get separated from your opponent or require rapid redeployment, this prototype grappling gauntlet is equipped with multiple magnetic wires intended to carry your weight across short distances."

"Couldn't I just use a jetpack?"

The pale-haired woman shot her companion a look. "…Shez, remind me again what inflammable means?"

"Ah… I'll never live that down," sighed Shez.