A/N:

Hey there guys, gals, and non-binary pals!

Hope this chapter finds you well, and may this chapter bring something positive to you!

Thank you those who followed and favorited the story! And thank you reviewers: Bosmer1701, DS2010 x3, Guest, Eldar-Melda, Danni, Natosi Pranja x2, and rubyfizz87[a suspected bot].

Chapter 24: Found

The Force had always been a guide, but never like this.

Obi-Wan moved through the corridors of the Republic flagship with the precision of a being of extensive training and experience. His lightsaber at his side but unlit. The Force whispered in his ear, pulling him forward with a clarity he couldn't explain. It was more than instinct—it was a bond, fierce and undeniable.

The Jedi Master called upon the Force again, reaching for the two beacons within it. The twins. Anakin's twins.

Their presence led him here, to this ship, with coordinates that had appeared in his mind as if the Force itself had etched them into his memory. A team of Jedi had joined him: Jedi Master Luminara Unduli, Master Plo Coon, Jedi Master Cin Drallig, Jedi Master Bant Eerin with her Padawan Taro Venn, and Jedi Knight Aayla Secura.

They used one of the Temple's remaining evacuation shuttles. They brought a medical droid, just in case.

Now, they moved as one through the familiar halls of the Republic flagship, their steps light and deliberate. The Jedi worked seamlessly, communicating without words. To Obi-Wan, the ship felt both alien and heartbreakingly familiar, its corridors haunted by echoes of what had been.

He pressed forward, weaving past guards and surveillance cameras, the twins' presence growing stronger with each step. When he reached the locked door, his heart skipped. The faint cries of a baby—two babies—echoed through the Force. For a moment, the ship's hum faded, replaced by the gentle coos of life.

"They're here," he whispered, relief washing over him.

With a flick of his wrist, his lightsaber ignited, slicing through the door's lock in a single, precise motion. The door slid open to reveal the Naberries huddled together, Ryoo and Pooja clutching their grandfather's hands. Amidala's mother looked up in shock, her face pale but determined. In one are, she cradled Leia. Sola, Kenobi saw, was holding Luke.

"Master Kenobi!" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and gratitude.

Obi-Wan stepped into the room, extinguishing his lightsaber as he knelt beside them. "You're safe now," he said softly, his gaze falling to the twins. They were so small, so fragile, and yet their connection to the Force glowed like a supernova.

He reached out gently, brushing a finger against Leia's tiny hand. She grasped it immediately, her grip surprisingly strong. Obi-Wan's breath caught as a wave of warmth flooded through him.

Duty, he reminded himself. This is my duty.

But the word felt hollow, insufficient to describe the depth of what coursed through him. The Force didn't just bind them—it wove them together in a way that transcended titles or roles.

He placed a comforting hand on the middle-aged woman's shoulder.

"Let's get you out of here," Obi-Wan said, standing and lifting Luke into his arms. "All of you."

The other Jedi fanned out, freeing each family member from their binds and assessing their wellbeing.

"All of the family is accounted for and in good physical health," Bant Eerin reported, her voice calm but quiet. She glanced at the medical scanner in her hands. "No injuries, minus minor contusions and sprains from the struggle when they were abducted."

Master Cin Drallig looked around the room again, his gaze scanning for someone he knew wouldn't be there. A deep, sinking feeling welled within him as he turned to Bant, his voice low. "And my Padawan, Zett Jukassa?"

Bant's hands faltered on her medical scanner, her head bowing slightly. She couldn't meet his eyes.

It was Sola who stepped forward, rubbing her chafed wrists. Her face was pale, but her resolve held as she met Drallig's gaze. "He's gone," she said softly. "They killed him."

Her voice wavered as she placed a trembling hand on his forearm, a small gesture of comfort. "I am so sorry," she choked out, her grief spilling over. "He—he saved my daughters. He shielded them from blaster fire."

Drallig's posture shifted, his shoulders bowing under the weight of the loss. His Padawan, just a boy, gone. Another light extinguished by this cursed war. His Padawan.

"We need to keep moving," Drallig said after a quiet moment, his voice quiet but firm. It was all the time they could afford to mourn the young one.

Obi-Wan nodded, taking the lead as the group moved out. The other Jedi circled the family protectively, their movements precise and deliberate. The twins' cries pierced the silence, urgent and raw. Obi-Wan knew they would be undiscovered soon.

They had to move faster.

Obi-Wan's communicator buzzed, the sound jolting him from his thoughts. "Kenobi," he answered.

"Obi-Wan!" came a breathless response, the urgency in Padmé's voice sharp and unmistakable.

"Padmé?" Obi-Wan said, his steps faltering. "Where are you? How's Anakin?" The questions tumbled out instinctively, though he hadn't had time to dwell on his former Padawan. Their Force bond pulsed with something he couldn't decipher, and it only heightened his concern.

Padmé grunted in response, the sound of something heavy dragging in the background. "My family and the twins—they're on separate ships. They've activated a destruction protocol. Do you have them?"

"We have them," Obi-Wan said immediately. "We found them in the same location. We're evacuating to the shuttle now."

"Thank the Force," she breathed, though her words were clipped with strain. The dragging sound resumed.

"Where are you?" Obi-Wan pressed, his tone sharp with concern.

"I don't know. Just… take care of them, Obi-Wan." There was a brief silence. "I have to go," she said quickly, her voice hitching. "Kriff!"

Blaster fire erupted in the background, a chaotic mix of close and distant shots. Obi-Wan's grip on the communicator tightened as the connection abruptly cut off.

"Padmé!" he called, but the line was dead.

The group rounded a corner, only to come face to face with a squad of red-armored Royal Guard clones. The clones raised their blasters in unison, their leader barking, "Drop your weapons. You are under arrest!"

Obi-Wan stepped forward, his expression calm but commanding. He'd never done a mind trick on so many before, but he'd will it to work. Raising his hand, he spoke with measured authority. "You never saw us. You're to continue your duties, and if asked, this location is clear."

The clones' postures stiffed. "I never saw you. I'm going to continue my duties, and if asked, this location is clear," they all repeated mechanically before turning and marching away. The Jedi mind trick leaving them dazed but obedient.

The group pressed onward, urgency, driving every step. The cries of the twins echoed through the corridors, growing louder as they neared the shuttle bay. Time was running out.

Padmé was able to stun all the clones in the skirmish, but she knew it didn't mean it was over.

She grunted as she shifted Anakin's weight, her muscles straining with each step. His unconscious body was heavy—far heavier than she remembered. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, the sound of alarms blaring around her, but she refused to stop.

Gasp in. Drag him from under his arms. Stop, exhale rapidly. Repeat.

Every breath felt as if she could never get enough air.

She turned her head to see behind her and see where she was going. The hanger not that far away now.

"Come on, Ani," she muttered, dragging him inch by inch. "You're not quitting on me now after all we've been through together!"

Adrenaline surged through her veins, her limbs trembling with exertion. She wasn't sure if it was sheer determination or some spark of the Force guiding her, but she kept moving. Step after an agonizing step, she pulled him closer to safety.

Inch by agonizing inch.

The sound of boots on metal flooring froze her in place. She turned, her breath catching as two security officers rounded the corner, blasters raised.

"Stop right there!" one barked, leveling his weapon at her.

Padmé's grip tightened on Anakin's arm, her mind racing. Without hesitation, she reached for the blaster at her side—stolen from a fallen guard.

The officers barely had time to react before she fired, her shots rapid and precise. They fell instantly with an escaping grunt of being stunned. Her hands trembled as she lowered the weapon, but she didn't have time to dwell on the moment.

Turning back to Anakin, she renewed her grip, her muscles screaming in protest as she dragged him toward the open loading ramp of a nearby ship.

The incline loomed before her, and Padmé nearly collapsed at the sight of it. Every ounce of her body screamed that she couldn't do this—that it was impossible.

But she didn't listen.

She sat down on the ramp and braced her feet against the floor. She wrapped her arms tightly around Anakin's chest, his dead-weight body in between her legs, locking her fingers together. With a guttural cry and using every shred of her remaining strength, she dragged him up behind her. Her arms burned, her core twitched, her legs shook, and every tendon in her body felt like it would snap under the strain.

Her breaths were sharp and shallow, but she refused to let go.

"You're not dying here, Skywalker," she growled through gritted teeth. "Not on my watch."

Finally, with one last heave, she pulled him onto the ramp and let his body slump onto the cold metal floor. Padmé scrambled to her feet, slamming the control panel to retract the ramp.

The ship lurched as it sealed, the alarms muffled slightly. She stumbled toward the cockpit, collapsing into the pilot's seat. Her hands shook as she powered up the ship, her fingers flying over controls.

"Just hold on," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Hold on, Ani."

The ship roared to life, and she gripped the controls tightly, guiding it out of the hangar and into open space. Her heart pounded, the stars blurring before her eyes as the vessel sped away from the doomed flagship.

Padmé ran back to Anakin after finishing the coordinates, her chest heaving as panic clawed at her.

Her adrenaline-surged fingers pressed against his neck, searching desperately for a pulse. It was faint—maybe not even there.

Tears blurred her vision, but she didn't stop to wipe them away. She grabbed Anakin under his arms and began dragging him toward the small medical bay. Every step was agony, her muscles screaming in protest, but her mind stayed locked on one thought:

Save him.

When she reached the medical table, she let out a sob of frustration. The table was elevated, far too high for her to lift him easily.

"Come on, Ani," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "Help me out here. Just a little."

He didn't respond, his head lolling lifelessly to the side.

Gritting her teeth, Padmé looped her arms under his shoulders and began hauling him upward. Her knees buckled, her back strained, and for a moment, she thought she'd collapse under his weight.

But with one final cry of exertion, she managed to roll him onto the table, his body slumping heavily onto the cool surface.

She stumbled back, gasping for air, her hands braced on her knees. The medical table activated with a soft hum, its weight sensor triggering the system. An irregular heartbeat flickered on the monitor.

Then the monitor flatlined.

The piercing sound froze her in place, her entire body turning cold. She stared at the lifeless form in front of her, her mind screaming against the reality before her.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head violently. "No, no, no!"

She surged forward, climbing onto the table and straddling his midsection. She pressed her hands to his chest.

"No way, Skywalker. You're not going to die!" she shouted, her voice thick with desperation as she began chest compressions. Her hands moved with frantic precision, her strength fueled by sheer willpower.

"You hear me? You're not leaving me!" Her voice cracked as she tilted his head back and forced a breath into his lungs. "Not after everything—not now!"

She resumed compressions, her movements growing more desperate.

Nothing. The flatline screech still haunting her ears.

Time felt warped—moving too fast and too slow all at once. Her tears mixed with the sweat dripping from her face as she pressed harder, pounding down with all her strength.

The cracking and popping beneath her hands startled her for a moment, but she gritted her teeth and kept going.

Broken ribs. Dislocated bones. That meant she was doing it right.

"Come on!" she cried, her voice hoarse. "Come on, Ani!"

Suddenly, the monitor's tone changed.

She froze, her breath catching as the flatline gave way to a shaky, uneven rhythm. Then his chest rose, a shuddering, gasping breath breaking the silence.

Padmé let out a choked sob of relief, collapsing onto his chest as her hands slid up to cradle his face.

"Ani," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You're okay. You're going to be okay."

His eyelids fluttered, his gaze unfocused and glassy as he blinked up at her. "Padmé…?"

She nodded, tears falling freely down her cheeks. "I've got you. You're safe."

His eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out again. But his heartbeat remained steady.

Her body sagged with exhaustion as she slumped forward, resting her forehead against his. Her voice dropped to a whisper, raw and shaky. "You're not allowed to die, Anakin. Not now, not ever."

Faint beeps and the hiss of air—familiar sounds of a medical bay—crept into his consciousness like a wave racing up a shore.

Anakin stirred, his eyelids heavy and reluctant to part, as though the weight of years of battle and anguish still anchored him to the bed beneath. But something was different—his body felt lighter, as if the crushing gravity that had pressed on his chest for so long had finally lifted.

And yet, there was an ache deep in his chest, sharp and bruising with every breath. A dull throb radiated outward, wrapping around his ribs like a reminder of how close he had come to the edge.

For the first time in what felt like years, there was no fear gripping his heart, no urgent voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to move, to act, to save someone.

Instead, he felt... peace.

The word was unfamiliar, but it wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

He opened his eyes slowly, squinting at the soft, golden light that bathed the small, private room. The ceiling above him was of stone, smooth and familiar. His brow furrowed weakly. He was in the ancient Temple of Sylvantar. But he couldn't remember how he had gotten there.

"Anakin," a gentle, familiar voice called.

He turned his head toward the sound, the movement sluggish and accompanied by a sharp twinge in his chest. He winced, his breath hitching, but the discomfort faded as his gaze landed on her.

Padmé.

She was seated beside him, her hair cascading over one shoulder, her hand resting gently on his. She looked tired but radiant, her eyes full of quiet, steady strength.

His memories flooded back all at once. Fear stiffened his weak body, his instincts trying to ready him for action. "The twins! Our family—!" His voice was hoarse, rasping against his throat as if it hadn't been used for days. He tried to sit up, but his body felt impossibly heavy.

Kind hands pressed softly against his chest, soothing him back down. They smoothed over the bandages tightly bound across his torso.

"They're safe," she said, her voice thick with emotion but unwavering. "The twins are safe. Everyone is safe. Everything's alright."

Her words pierced through the haze in his mind, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He blinked, the memories cruelly replaying—her cries of anguish, the overwhelming fear that he might lose everything, his hands, no within his control, clamped around her neck. Then the weight on his heart as it had given out entirely, followed by... nothing.

Now, those memories felt distant, like shadows dissipating in the warmth of a new dawn.

"I… don't… how…?" He struggled to speak, his words halting.

"Obi-Wan led a group of Jedi to rescue them," she said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "Even after they found out you were married to me, and about our twins, they still risked everything to help us."

His gaze shifted downward, taking in the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. Each shallow breath sent a dull ache rippling through him, but the pain felt oddly grounding. He managed a small, shaky nod to show he understood, though his mind and body felt too drained to fully process her words.

"How… are… they? Is everyone… alright?" he rasped, his voice trembling and faltering.

Padmé's face softened into a smile, her fingers tightening gently around his. "They're perfect," she said. "Leia is asleep, and Luke..." She chuckled softly. "Luke keeps trying to roll over. He's determined, just like his father."

Her smile dimmed as her eyes saddened, the shift in her emotions rippling through the Force. "Ryoo and Pooja were unharmed, thanks to Zett's sacrifice."

Anakin's heart sank. Zett—he was just a kid, one who should never have been given such a dangerous assignment.

Padmé leaned closer, her forehead resting gently against his temple. "My parents are okay. Sola and Darren, too. A little beat up, but nothing a few days of bacta gel and wraps can't fix."

Anakin let out a shaky breath, his fingers finally curling around hers. His family was safe. Everyone was safe.

"We did it, Ani. We did it," she said, her eyes misty and a small smile growing.

His brow creased with confusion.

"We defeated Sidious, saved the Jedi. We saved the entire galaxy from an Empire ruled by the Sith." She wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye, her voice brimming with pride. "And we saved each other."

He felt the weight of her words as his mind began to clear. That was when he noticed it—the lack of a crushing pressure that had weighed on him for so long had finally lifted.

"I feel... different," he murmured. "Like a weight is gone. Like I can breathe for the first time."

Her free hand moved to his cheek, cradling it tenderly. "That's because you've been carrying the galaxy on your shoulders for so long," she whispered. "It's over now, Anakin—the war, the secrets—it's all over."

A soft knock sounded at the door. Anakin turned his head weakly, his breath catching at the sharp pull in his ribs. Obi-Wan stepped inside, his expression uncharacteristically tender.

"I see you're awake," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You gave us all quite the scare."

Anakin exhaled a short, breathy laugh. "You should know better—I always pull through," he said, his voice steadier now, though his hand instinctively moved to his chest as a jolt of soreness reminded him, again, of his ordeal.

"True, but this one was very close. Your heart stopped, and Padmé brought you back," Obi-Wan said, nodding toward her.

Anakin had no memory of it, but something in his soul stirred at the knowledge. "So, you did this?" He gestured to his ribcage. "I should have known it'd take someone insanely strong—or insanely in love with me—to pull that off. And you happen to be both," he teased, though his arms moved cautiously over his bandaged ribs.

Padmé rolled her eyes in mock annoyance but laughed, her hand tightening on his.

Obi-Wan chuckled, stepping closer. "You've earned your rest, Anakin," he said quietly, his tone carrying a depth of emotion Anakin hadn't heard in years. "The galaxy doesn't need a hero right now. But your twins—they need their father. And Padmé, her husband. To be what they need, you must rest."

Anakin closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. For once, he didn't fight Obi-Wan's insistence to rest.

Padmé pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, her lips light and reassuring. "Sleep now, Ani. Rest."

Her voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket, soft and soothing. The tension in his body melted away, and Anakin drifted back into sleep, the warmth of her presence easing him into it.

And, for the first time in his life, he dreamed.

No prophetic visions, no nightmares of his loved ones' deaths. Just pleasant, kind dreams of his family and of nonsensical things. Dreams he wouldn't remember when he awoke—only the feelings they left behind.

Happiness.

Love.

Belonging.

And, at long last, peace.

To be continued…

A/N:

This has been so long coming, but this is the second to last chapter. An Epilogue is left and a separate Author's Note at the end (I'll post them on the same day, I believe). I've got a working draft of the epilogue and will begin the author's notes soon. Hoping to finish it up this week.

I'll go into it later in the final author's notes for the story, but this has been a nearly 12 yearlong publicly posting journey (worked on it before publishing it her on FF), and so much has happened and changed. I'm so blessed to have been able to finish this and have such incredible readers and interactions along the way.

Best wishes, and many blessings.

Responses to "guest" Reviewers:

Guest: Thank you so much for your review. It may have been two words, but it means a lot to me and I ADORE reader engagement. Glad you believe I am doing "great"; I do my best and really want you to enjoy it!

Thanks again, and many blessings!

Danni: Hey, non-binary she/they girlie, hey! Ha-ha! /playful (No malintent or insult meant)

So good to see you again! Thank you so much for your consistent reviews and kindness!

I'm glad you "loved" that Padme killed Sidious! I've not yet come across it (I, of course, have not read all of them) and really wanted to write it out, again, since I started writing the fic over 12 years ago. Ha-ha, I'm glad you caught that. Indeed, his overconfidence was his downfall! And that line is… infamous for me, but I wanted to try and reclaim it in a way, ha-ha! Thank you, I really wanted to weave in original cannon elements; I believe it's important to keep the incredible, beautiful beats in what I write—what better to include and acknowledge?

Wow, it is indeed a callback to the first chapter! Yeah, definitely foreshadowing, ha-ha! In a way her "dying of a broken heart" and postpartum depression are connected—I wanted Anakin to be a force that balances her and cares for her, even subconsciously. So when they are apart, she is susceptible to illness/death. I, PERSONALLY, see Padme's death as Sidious doing malicious deeds with the Force, maybe even draining her life and pumping it into Anakin/Vader while he's in surgery. I'm so glad those details stood out to you, I work really hard to connect things, foreshadow, etc. if I can. Glad you noticed!

Yeah, of course! I've responded to every review I've ever received. Though, recently there are a lot of spam bots/spammers, so I won't be responding to them (makes me kind of sad, breaking my "streak", ha-ha!)
Thank you so much again! I hope you continue to enjoy the story! (Just an Epilogue and Author's Notes left!) I also hope to hear from you again!

Many blessings.

January 16, 2025