A/N: Previously...Leia and Han narrowly escape an explosion while on a mission with Luke, Ahsoka, and her team, Padmé and Bail make deals on Corellia, Obi-Wan rescues some prisoners and an old friend from Imperial Prison, and Anakin gets rescued from a duel with Malefus.

9 BBY. The Star Destroyer Inexorable.

Inexorable floated, serene in the vacuum above Lianna. Her sublight engines glowed a blinding blue against the dark of space, and her lights winked like so many stars themselves. Her fighters were back aboard now, and the pair of Victory-class destroyers dispatched from Florrum flanked her like loyal attendants.

She was an impressive sight. It was impossible to tell, from the outside, how poorly she and her complement had performed over the past day.

Inside the big destroyer's hull, though, the tension was palpable. Troopers and Naval personnel went about their business as normal, as needed to keep the ship flying, but they did so with no friendly conversation. Their faces were to a one, drawn and pale.

There was good reason for their fear. Lord Malefus was not yet back from the surface of Lianna, but he was en route, and unlikely to be pleased with the day's events. Over the past year, every shift on the bridge crew had watched their guest's temper boil over into mad violence at least once, and they'd had plenty of time to spread their stories across the whole ship. Even the Stormtrooper bunks were alive with rumors, aside from the single squadron of Fett clones still serving aboard the ship. They resolutely refused to talk about Malefus, but they were an insular bunch at the best of times, so none of their comrades put much stock in them.

Up on Inexorable's bridge, Captain Tor Atrela's jaw ground tighter and tighter as he tried to decide his course of action. Courtesy and military decorum mandated that he meet Lord Malefus's shuttle in the hangar, to welcome him back aboard the ship. As Captain, the highest-ranking officer on the destroyer, his absence would be a grave insult, and by all accounts, Malefus was not a being to offend. On the other hand –

It wasn't Atrela's fault that the TIE pilots hadn't hit their mark in time. It also wasn't Atrela's fault that the Jedi fugitive had escaped on Lianna. But then, it also hadn't been Ensign Nefryk's fault that their fuel convoy had been late on the way to Mandalore. It hadn't been Petty Officer An Mer, Lieutenant Talris, or poor Commander Mohr's fault either, and yet they were all dead. Atrela didn't want to be dead, and experience told him it was a poor idea to be the first being to confront Lord Malefus in a black mood.

In the end, it was his pride in his station that tipped the scales. If he was going to die today, at least he'd do it in the course of his duty. He took one final breath, drawing himself up and committing his soul to the Old Ones. He swept his gaze over the other Bridge officers, mentally running through his knowledge of them. He couldn't greet Malefus alone; two officers was the bare minimum for the Emperor's right hand. He might be condemning another to die alongside him as well, but damn him if he'd go to his death alone.

"Piett!" he snapped. The spare little Lieutenant shot up from his station and to attention.

"Yessir?"

"Have Lieutenant Yanero relieve you and accompany me to the hangar." The color drained immediately out of the young man's face, leaving him green around the edges. His spine stayed ramrod-straight, though, a credit to his training.

"Y-Yes, Sir." Piett said, with quite a bit less enthusiasm. Atrela met him as he climbed up to the bridge's walkway.

"Come along, Lieutenant." He said, trying for a kind tone. After all, this wasn't Piett's fault either. Rather, Piett had acquitted himself well over the course of his assignment to Atrela's bridge. He was going places in the Navy, assuming no one put a lightsaber through him first.

Piett didn't even try to say 'yes sir' a third time, just swallowed audibly. He matched Atrela's strides though, no lagging behind.

"Where are you from, Piett?" asked Atrela, for something to think about other than the doom awaiting him, mostly. They'd left the bridge behind now, but it was a long way to Nex's main hangar.

"Ah-Axxila, Captain." Came the quick answer.

"Hm." Said Atrela. "That's in the Outer Rim, isn't it? Where in the universe did you pick up that accent?" Not on Axxila, surely. Piett's accent was Coruscanti, precise and snappy. He'd seldom heard a more Coruscanti accent, in fact.

"The Academy." Piett answered, his eyes fixed forward and his tone deliberately neutral. "I found it difficult to gain the respect of my superiors with my native accent." Atrela sighed. He was from Taris, himself, but he'd joined the Navy before the end of the Clone Wars and as such, had managed to avoid some of the prejudice that reared its head in the absence of all-out war. Only some, though. Core World Naval officers were the same all 'round.

"I suppose you would." He said, realizing he hadn't responded to Piett's admission. "I'd never have known." Piett nodded, an expression that wasn't quite gracious, though it made a good imitation.

"Sir, we are going to – that is to say –" he trailed off, looking at Atrela as though hoping he would contradict his fears.

"Yes. Someone must greet Lord Malefus, he is well within His Majesty's good graces and we cannot afford to be unprofessional." Even at the cost of our own lives.

Sometimes, Atrela wondered what had become of the Navy he'd joined. The uniform and the ships remained the same, but the superiors. The superiors and the orders seemed so much colder now.

Piett drew his shoulders back. "Very well, Captain." was all he said.

They reached the hangar far too soon for Atrela's comfort. A conference with the supervising officer in the comms deck told him Lord Malefus was due in less than ten minutes, so he and Piett made their way to the glossy black hangar floor with all the enthusiasm of a half-dead Hutt. Too soon, Atrela watched the Lambda glide through Inexorable's mag-shields, trying to swallow around his wire-tense throat. At his side, Piett's jaw was clenched so tightly that Atrela could practically hear it creaking. Both of them might as well have had their spines bolted straight up and down.

Useless, likely. Good posture wouldn't save them.

The Lambda set down with all the finesse of a brick, and Atrela held back a wince, despite the impending doom. Lambdas were well and good for carrying troops and dignitaries, yes, but stars, were they ungainly. The pilot in him rather hated them.

Steam spilled into the hangar as the shuttle's hatch opened and the ship depressurized. Atrela drew a deep breath, hoping against hope that it would not be his last.

And then his throat closed off. Instinctively, his hands went to his collar, trying to loosen it, but he continued to choke even as he pulled the fabric away from his skin. His feet left the floor as Malefus stalked down the access ramp. One hand extended in front of him, the pale fingers curled into a claw, he was strangling Atrela without even touching him.

"You had very simple orders, Captain." Said Lord Malefus conversationally, still holding Atrela in midair while he tried in vain to breathe. "I do hope you have an adequate explanation for your failure to capture that ship."

Atrela was far too busy fighting to draw breath to answer that.

"Perhaps you're unaware, Captain, that you let a Jedi slip through your fingers. I am unfamiliar with the Navy, I admit, but surely you have starfighters? Cannons, even?"

Atrela's vision was spotty and filling with static, there was a roar in his ears. He was going to die, he thought, remotely. Right here in his ship's hangar.

And then his knees hit the floor and he could breathe, gasping lungfuls of precious recycled air on the floor. As he coughed and massaged his aching throat, Malefus bent down and hissed,

"Consider yourself exceedingly lucky that I must report to the Emperor immediately. It is the only reason you draw breath once more." Atrela could smell ozone and sweat on his clothes, and, with the small portion of his brain not focused on breathing, he wondered what had happened on Lianna. Lord Malefus had a personal hatred for the man they'd been hunting, and the fight between them must have been awe-inspiring.

Lord Malefus stood once more and swept out of the hangar, no less stately for his sweaty hair and scorched sleeve. Atrela took another deep, burning breath and got his shaking knees back underneath him, resisting the urge to grab Piett's arm for support. To his credit, the Lieutenant offered him a hand up all the same, concern in his eyes. Atrela took it, brushing the wrinkles from his uniform.

He'd dodged a laser bolt, just then. Perhaps it was time to reconsider his career.

The rush of sentience around him in the Force was inhibiting his focus; Malefus ordinarily worked alone. It was rare that he needed soldiers at all, let alone the full crew and complement of a Star Destroyer.

And still, it hadn't been enough.

Malefus' fist clenched, so hard that his knuckles ached. He'd failed, failed to kill the Jedi, failed even to capture him. He'd injured his prey, but not even the scent of his charred flesh and the sound of his pain could calm Malefus.

He left the ship's Captain gasping on the hangar floor and stalked to his quarters in a black fury. He'd implied to Atrela that his failure as a military commander had invited Malefus's punishment, but in truth, he could either let the Dark out to play or be consumed by its cold fire himself. Even now, his rage snapped poisonous in his soul, threatening to choke his mind with its bloody haze.

Lashing out at the hapless captain was undignified, perhaps, but it was better than to be consumed by the Dark Side. Sith had died that way. Emotions were to be used, not to be succumbed to. And Atrela had failed in the discharge of his duty, though not so badly as Malefus himself had. A wash of hot shame roiled in his guts at the thought. Malefus hated to lose, and he'd lost very rarely over the past ten years. You are a Sith Lord, he thought viciously, you will not feel this weakness.

He could not face his Master like this.

Malefus had claimed what was ordinarily the Captain's cabin as his quarters. Although not set up ideally for his occupancy, it was spacious enough and had a hard-line comms array wired in. He passed the comm by and instead turned the lumas off, plunging the room into utter darkness. He took his place in the center of the room.

"Peace is a lie." He murmured. He knew this. He knew this for the way his blood sang in battle, the savage joy in the fight, whether physical with his lightsaber or mental in the Force. Peace was a lie. Through passion, strength. Through strength, power.

Power was the focus, power was the answer. In his refusal to engage beyond what was necessary to avoid Malefus's blade, the Jedi had the power in their fight. Detachment, the Jedi's greatest weapon and greatest weakness, but Anakin Skywalker had used it to his advantage today.

His commlink chimed a second time, and Malefus knew he must report to his Master. To delay any longer was to invite retribution. With a jerk of his head, the lumas flared back to life, drenching the small room in harsh light. Darkness clung stubborn in the corners, though, sustained by his meditation.

"Through power, I gain victory." He muttered to himself, crossing to the comms array. And through victory, my chains are broken.

His Master's presence arrived a nanosecond before his visage, sinking the temperature in the room. Malefus dropped to one knee and bowed his head, hearing squeaks and crackles as ice crept up all of the glass in the room.

"What news, my apprentice?" croaked Sidious. "Have you captured my prize?" Malefus squeezed his eyes shut and ground out,

"No, my Master. The Jedi is cunning, and my forces incompetent." Sidious laughed without humor.

"It is a poor master who blames his tools, Lord Malefus." He snapped. "Tell me why I should not call you back to Imperial Center to face my wrath for your failure." Unbidden, Malefus's fist clenched, sweat springing up on his palms despite the temperature. His Master's cold pleasure twisted through the Force at his reaction.

"Because I will stop at nothing to see him dead, my Master." He snarled, his tone made all the more vicious by fear. "I am your apprentice. I bested the Chosen One in combat and tasted his blood on my blade." A vicious grin twisted his face as he spoke and remembered the hot flash of triumph as the Jedi had screamed.

His Master laughed again.

"You are precocious, Apprentice." He said, sibilant. "In your absence these past months, my Inquisitors have grown arrogant. Do not return to Imperial Center. Go instead to Mustafar and remind the Inquisition who they serve." Malefus grit his teeth, his anger a whirlwind in the Force. He was no babysitter. "You will do as I command in this, or your insolence will rapidly cease to amuse me." snapped Sidious, all traces of humor gone from his tone.

"I – will do as you command, Master." Sidious smiled beneath his hood.

"Good. There is nowhere for the Jedi to hide in our Galaxy. Soon enough, it will be time to snuff their lives out for good. For now, let them slink in the shadows like the cowards they are."

The hologram disappeared, but the chill of Sidious's presence lingered, clammy on Malefus's skin. And tickling at his –

Malefus looked down, surprised. White lines of energy crawled over his sword hand, sparking between his fingertips and tickling the skin. He clenched his fist once more, staring in wonder as the Force lightning crackled over his knuckles and around his wrist. There was stiff tension in the Force, building every second and binding the lightning in his bones. Absent, nearly without conscious thought, Malefus pried his fingers apart and lifted his hand. The lightning coiled in excitement.

The tension broke.

With a scream, the white lightning twisted up his fingertips and arced across the cabin, catching a luma before scorching along the walls. The bright panel exploded in a shatter of glass and a shower of sparks. Malefus blinked.

Well, this was an interesting development.

9 BBY. Sulon.

"So the only reason you even took us to Raxus in the first place was so we'd be out of the way while the Rebels moved?" Luke's voice went squeaky on the end with how angry he was, but Auntie 'Soka just nodded, unbothered.

"Viceroy Organa was worried the Navy would catch them before they got away, so he sent you two with me to make sure they wouldn't pick you up." Luke's face stayed stormy, but Han shrugged, mouth twisting into a grin Leia knew wasn't totally real.

"Well," he said, "I guess that makes sense. Can we get better fake papers next time, though? Getting blown up kinda sucked."

Luke was angry, Han was angry and pretending he wasn't, but Leia couldn't honestly say she was mad, not even a bit. Aunt 'Soka and the Viceroy's plan made sense, after all, and it was what Dad had done on Nar Shaddaa to protect Leia and Han. Getting blown up had sucked though. The shiny burn on Leia's forearm itched and stung something awful, and her ears still rang when it was really quiet. The Rebel medics said they'd go back to normal in a couple of weeks, but Leia hated it; it was like having a fly buzz 'round her head all the time.

Ahsoka heaved a deep sigh. "My team and I have to go make our report to the higher-ups," she said, not sounding happy about it, "they're anxious with the Viceroy being gone. We've got to figure out what to do with our new friends until he comes back. Can you three entertain yourselves for a few hours?"

"Sure." Said Han, his smile turning all the way real as he turned toward the ship. "We'll work on the Falcon, I got plenty of stuff I wanna do. You two can help, right?" Leia nodded immediately.

"I will!" Dad had taught her lots about ships while he worked on them back home. She liked the way they worked, how all the little parts and systems worked together. It just – made sense, like not much else did. And the Falcon was special, full of joy and freedom in the Force.

Besides, it was something to think about that wasn't Luke and Dad and everything that had happened in the last two days.

There was plenty to do, too. Han wanted to strip out and replace every system in the Falcon, make her all custom, and they'd only done the life support and the navicomputer wiring before they'd gone to Raxus. Han wanted to do the coolant lines next. Coolant kept the hyperdrive and the sublight engines from overheating, and if the lines were old or didn't work right, the coolant didn't get where it needed to go when it needed to be there, and that meant problems. Giant-fireball-kind-of problems.

Han had wheedled some new fuel and coolant lines from a supply team a couple of weeks ago, and from then until they'd left for Raxus, he'd been busy cleaning and tweaking them at the little holotable on board. He was finishing up now, with Luke's reluctant help. Luke wasn't happy to be around, Leia could tell, but at least he'd stayed. She was kind of surprised, really. Luke had other friends around the base, and as for Leia – well, she'd tried to talk to him about their parents again on the flight from Raxus.

It hadn't gone well.

How could Luke not believe that Dad loved Mom? Leia knew he did, she remembered how his eyes went all melty and his presence in the Force soft around the edges whenever he talked about Mom. Stars, she could feel that same softness, that same love, on the holo emitter sometimes, like an energy stamp, because Dad had carried it around so much.

She knew Dad loved Mom, and she knew he'd love Luke too.

But then, maybe Luke was so sure he was right because it was Mom who didn't love Dad. Luke would know that better than Leia after all. Leia'd never even met Mom, all she had was one image on a hologram and her own face in the mirror, sometimes. And if Mom didn't love Dad, well-

If Mom didn't want them, she and Dad would be fine, just like they'd always been. She didn't need a mom who didn't want her.

She didn't.

So yeah, she wanted to work on the coolant lines because it meant electrical and mechanical work and that meant lots of thinking about things that weren't Mom, on account of how fiddly it was. Luke was a good helper even when he was in a really bad mood, it turned out; he had a great memory and he was mega-smart, so even though he didn't know ships on the inside like Leia and Han did, he knew what all the tools were and he could find them in no time.

Leia was shoulder-deep in one of the old lines, hunting for the circuits that powered the valves, when Luke shouted from outside;

"Get out here, quick! Somebody's coming back from a mission, and they've got a wicked ship!"

Well, it had to be pretty wicked, to make Luke yell for her even though he was mad.

Leia wiggled back out of the compartment she'd crawled into and grabbed for a rag to clean the electric blue coolant residue off her hands and arms. Still holding it, she poked her head out of the hatch and looked around. Luke was standing on the gangway, leaning out over a support strut. Leia skipped over to stand beside him, her feet strangely light on the floor. As the ship, which was a modified freighter, glided into the hangar, though, the rag fell out of her hands as she realized why she suddenly felt so happy.

Luke turned to speak, but Leia was already gone, sprinting across the hangar and dodging mechanics and pilots by the skin of her teeth. She skidded to a stop as the ship landed and waited, bouncing foot-to-foot, unable to keep still. After way, way too long, the ship's ramp lowered, spilling a rush of steam into the hangar.

Leia didn't care though, because she was already dashing up the ramp, past the skinny teenager and astromech alike, and flinging herself at Dad, who caught her with a grunt and a step back.

"Dad!" she gasped. "You're back!" He squeezed her tight around the waist, dropping to one knee so that her feet settled back on the ground. People were staring, probably, but Leia didn't care because Dad was there, sunfirewarm in the Force, and just like that, she was home.

"I said I would be, didn't I?" he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She took a step back to get a good look at him. And then she stared. And kept staring.

"What happened to you?" she whispered, still staring at the empty space where Dad's right hand had been, at the white bandages winding up his right arm and around his shoulder. Dad's good hand jumped from her back and onto the durasteel hilt he'd worn on his hip since they left Tatooine all those months ago.

"Remember the Sith on Nar Shaddaa?" he asked. She nodded. It wasn't like she was about to forget about that day. Dad took the grip off his belt and flicked a switch near the top. Immediately, a blade of blue-white light appeared with a hiss of plasma, throwing weird shadows all over the ship's hold. It hummed like it was alive, and Leia found she could stare at it instead of the stump of Dad's arm.

"I fought him." Said Dad. "With this. His caught my arm right before I kicked him through a window." He flicked the switch again and the light disappeared with another hiss. Dad hooked it back onto his belt and took Leia's hand in his, a reassuring smile on his face. "I'm fine, Princess," he said, squeezing, "but it did kinda wreck my hand." Leia thought about it for a moment. Dad's presence was bright and warm in the Force like always, if a little frayed around the edges from being tired. He was telling the truth.

She'd never had to wonder that, on Tatooine.

"You can build a new one, right?" she asked, finally. Dad laughed, startled.

"Yeah, kiddo, I can build a new one. You can help me." She grinned.

"Yeah, you can teach me!" She pointed at the grip. "And then, you can teach me how to build one of those." Dad raised an eyebrow.

"I can, huh?"

"Yup!" said Leia cheerfully. "It's what you get, for not telling me about Jedi and then leaving for ages." Dad laughed again. "Oh!" exclaimed Leia. "There's somebody here you gotta meet! And Han's here too, he'll want to see you!" She tugged on his good hand until he stood up.

Luke and Han were waiting at the end of the ramp as Leia pulled Dad out of the hold. There were a bunch of people standing around and staring now, including the teenager she'd run past on the way. Well. There weren't a lot of kids around here and she'd been running really fast, so that was probably it.

"Hey," called Han, "you made it!" Dad grinned and went to answer, but he went quiet as he caught sight of Luke, standing just behind Han's leg and almost hiding his face.

Well. Leia wasn't about to let Luke grump his way through this. She grabbed at his arm and tugged him forward.

"This is my friend!" she said, determined. "His name is-"

"I'm Luke." he said, real quiet. "Luke Naberrie."

"Luke," said Leia gently, because Dad didn't say anything for a second. In fact, he'd stopped dead on hearing Luke's last name. "This is my Dad."

"I'm, um, I'm Anakin Skywalker." Said Dad, projecting worry and nerves in the Force. "I'm-"

"You're my father!" cried Luke, throwing himself forward. Dad dropped to his knees in time to catch him in a tight hug. "You are, aren't you?" asked Luke after a moment, voice muffled in Dad's shoulder. Leia knew it, she'd known always, somehow, but she still waited on pins and needles, for Dad to answer.

"Yes." Said Dad, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. "Yeah, I'm your dad." Luke grinned his sunshine grin and they clung to each other for a long moment. Leia beamed at them.

"You-" said Luke eventually, stepping back. His face fell back into familiar grumpy lines, but Leia could feel his clammy fear as he took a deep breath. "Are you and Mom-I mean, do you-are you really mad at Mom?"

Dad jerked back like Luke had hit him, his tired blue eyes wide.

"No, I'm not – I'm worried about her, Luke, but I'm not mad at her, not at all." Luke looked up at Dad, his eyes broken.

"But then, if you're not mad, if you and Mom-then why-" his eyes welled up with tears. "Why did you take Leia away and leave us?" Dad's hand jumped immediately to Luke's face, his thumb brushing tears away from her brother's cheek. He looked up at Leia, meeting her eyes, and nodded his head, calling her over. Leia didn't hesitate, just pressed herself against Dad's side, wrapping an arm around Luke.

"Oh, Luke, I never wanted to leave you and your mother." He said, and Leia realized he was crying. She'd never, ever, seen Dad cry. "Your mom and I, we wanted to live together on Naboo, as a family. But the Emperor would have found us."

"Because you're a Jedi." Said Luke, accusing. Dad nodded.

"I was a Jedi, yeah, so I had to go somewhere far away, where the Emperor wouldn't find me. Your mom couldn't leave her people, and we didn't want the Emperor to think she was a rebel."

"So-" said Luke, "you-you do want me around?" At that, Dad pulled the both of them into a hug, which was pretty impressive, considering he only had one hand to do it with.

"Of course, Luke, of course." He said. "I'll always want you around, kiddo, you and Leia both."

They stayed there for a moment, with Dad holding Luke and Leia tight against his chest, until a cheerful voice rang out across the hangar,

"Hey, look what the gundark dragged in!" If Leia had been less focused on hugging her family, she would have seen half the onlookers jump out of their skins, but as it was, Han snickered for her. Leia looked over and found Aunt 'Soka, back from her briefing and grinning montral to montral.

"Hey, Snips," said Dad, standing up. Leia stayed on the ground, but Luke didn't want to let go, so Dad just picked him up.

"You're missing something." Said Aunt 'Soka as she reached them, her blue eyes flicking pointedly at the empty space where Dad's right arm had been. "Got into a fight, huh?"

"Lucky strike." Said Dad, shrugging. Ahsoka raised one brow.

"Sure, Old Man."

Dad smiled. Aunt 'Soka held her teasing expression for a moment or two, and then flung her arms around Dad's waist. He shifted Luke in his arm so he could lean his head against her montrals, and Leia heard her say, very quiet,

"I missed you, Skyguy."

And it was so sweet, Leia didn't even laugh at the nickname.

"Luke?" came a voice. It wasn't a shout, but it cut over the buzz of the hangar all the same. At the sound of it, Dad froze, so it wasn't too hard for Luke to jump to the ground and take off running for the woman who had spoken.

Padmé dropped to her knees just in time for Luke to cannon into her, knocking her onto her backside. She didn't care though, because her son was in her lap and she was home, a thousand parsecs from Naboo and Coruscant both. She ran her hands over Luke's head, carding her fingers through his hair. It had grown down into his eyes and over his collar, catching the bright sunlight outside. She gathered her legs back beneath her so that she was kneeling on the floor.

"Oh, baby, I missed you so much!" she said, laughing through the words. Luke grinned.

"I knew you'd come back." He said, breathless. "I missed you too, Mom."

"Padmé?"

She'd had eyes only for Luke since catching sight of him, but she heard the voice, familiar, rough and slightly accented. Luke bounced to his feet as she stood, searching. She found the face she was looking for, maybe ten meters away.

He cut his hair. She thought, absurd. And then she was moving, crossing the space between them with quick strides. He met her in the middle, and she flung her arms around her husband's neck. His arms came around her, strong and sure, and lifted her up so her feet dangled just off the ground. He spun her in a tight circle, and for a moment, the last ten years vanished and she was standing on the Senate steps with a beautiful young Jedi Knight. Then, she twined her fingers into his hair, cropped short in the back, and it all came back to her. She crushed her mouth to his as her feet settled back to the floor, and she felt rather than heard him moan.

Much as she wanted to, she didn't deepen the kiss, but pulled back to rest her forehead against his. He sagged in her arms, tears in his blue eyes.

"I missed you, so much." He whispered.

"I love you, Ani." She murmured, and felt his hand tighten on her back. "Let's not do that again." He gave a startled, short laugh and took a step back. She let her hands come to rest on his chest. His slipped around to her right hip. Only the right one, though. She looked, and wished she hadn't.

"Ani, what –"

"I'm alright, Padmé. He said, brushing off her concern just as he always had. "There's someone here you should meet, though." His gaze flicked sideways, to Luke and –

And a girl around his age, with dark hair and eyes and a snub nose.

"L-Leia?" Her voice broke as she tried to speak, and very suddenly, her legs wouldn't hold her up anymore. Her skirt pooled around her hips as she fell to her knees, and Anakin dropped with her rather than letting go.

"Dad – is this - " The girl's voice trailed off.

"Leia," said Anakin softly, "this is Padmé."

"I'm your –" Leia didn't let her finish the sentence before she flung herself at Padmé, who caught her with a grunt of surprise. She was a solid weight in Padmé's arms, and her eyes filled with tears as she stroked her daughter's hair.

Leia pulled away after a second and narrowed her eyes, not at Padmé, but at Anakin.

"You lied to me." She said, her small hands fisting in Padmé's gown. Anakin smiled at her, small and sad. It was an expression she'd never seen on his face. Goddesses, she'd missed so much.

"I did, Leia. Can you forgive me?"

"Why'd you tell me she was dead?" Looking over Leia's shoulder at Luke, Padmé could see the same question in Luke's eyes. She held out a hand to him. After a second, he took it and let her hug him to her side.

"I wanted you to be safe, and I thought if I told you the truth, you'd want to leave Tatooine." Said Anakin, simply. "I'm sorry you had to find out from someone else, Princess, I should have told you when we left."

"You should've." Said Leia. "Nobody told me, though." A spark of pride crept into her voice. "I figured it out on my own."

"We did." Said Luke. At his voice, Leia turned her eyes on Padmé, who braced herself.

"Luke thought you didn't want to be with Dad and that's why you left." Her eyes were still accusatory, daring Padmé to prove Luke wrong. Padmé shook her head, vehement.

"Oh sweetheart," she whispered, "I have wanted nothing, nothing more than to be with Anakin and you and Luke since before you were even born. The only beings I love more than him are you two." Leia trembled and threw her arms around Padmé's waist again. Padmé brought her free hand to Leia's head once more, stroking her dark hair and Luke's upper arm in turn. Anakin's good arm slipped around her waist, and Padmé felt her tears begin to fall.

9 BBY. Sulon.

Anakin's sense of day and night had gone out the window sometime this week, but he was certainly exhausted by the time the medic let him out of her sight with a stern warning to come back in a week. He'd have been happy not to visit at all, but if he had learned one thing from the War, it was that putting off a trip to the medics would only make things worse. He smiled, remembering Kix's barely-restrained eyerolls. Obi-Wan had always been the worst about it, but Anakin hadn't made Kix's life easy either.

Still, submitting to a medic's hands was never a fun experience, and it was less so for Anakin. Between his childhood and the War, he wasn't a fan of being touched, particularly when he was exhausted and injured. The medic was a professional; she hadn't reacted to his tense muscles or freezes, but the past two hours had left his nerves frayed and he wanted nothing more than to find Padmé, Luke, and Leia.

Briefly, before he slept for a month.

Of course, finding was the immediate concern. The twins, understandably, didn't want either of their parents out of their sight, and Padmé'd had to promise to take them exploring so as to stop Leia from demanding to go to the infirmary with Anakin. It had done the job, but it did mean that Anakin now had no idea where they were. Leia, he knew, would be most excited about the hangar, but he had no idea what Luke might want to do. His heart twisted at the thought.

He loved Luke, had missed him all the time he and Leia had lived on Tatooine, but he had missed a baby, a warm weight in his arms and tiny hands wrapped around his fingers. Now, seeing Luke as a skinny child with missing teeth, bright blue eyes, and a mop of unruly blond hair, Anakin couldn't avoid the fact that he'd missed nearly all of his son's life. He knew Leia from the top of her head to her toes, knew how she liked her eggs cooked and what her face looked like when she was trying not to laugh, but he knew nothing about Luke.

Another item on the list of things Palpatine had ripped away.

They weren't in the hangar, the mess, or either of the common areas. Eventually, a logistics officer took pity and told him that Padmé had been assigned quarters half an hour ago. A look at his chrono, which by now had caught up to local time, told him it was, in fact, the night cycle, so he made a guess and turned for the base's living quarters. Padmé looked up from where she sat on the low bed as he came into the room they'd been given. She had changed out of her floor-length gown and into soft leggings and a shirt that was rather too big for her.

"Is that mine?" he asked, pitching his voice low so as not to wake either of the twins, who had curled up on either side of Padmé and were, to all appearances, fast asleep. She smiled, and warmth curled through his insides.

"It's been ten years, Ani, I think it's mine under Galactic property laws." She said, the playful light in her eyes undercutting her soft tone. "What did the medics say?" Leia made a small, sleepy noise, shifting against Padmé's thigh. Anakin crossed the little room in two steps and ran his hand over her head, smoothing her flyaway hair, and she stilled, smiling in her sleep.

"It's not so bad." He answered, once he was sure Leia was fully asleep. "A little nerve damage and a nasty burn. Medic-Officer Taneel thinks everything will heal fine if I take it easy." He shrugged his good shoulder. "It's weird not to have a prosthetic, that's all." He kept going to move it, forgetting until a moment too late that he didn't have a hand there. Padmé's eyes flicked to the bandages, and he could see her deciding whether to ask him what had happened in the fight. In the end, she sighed and said,

"Come to bed, Ani, you look like you're about to fall over." He didn't need to be told twice. Leia moved again as the thin mattress shifted under his weight, but she only woke up enough to roll over and pillow her head on Anakin's hip. Another beautiful smile lit Padmé's face at the sight.

"She's so-" she trailed off, her eyes helpless. "I missed so much." Anakin nodded, his eyes slipping over to Luke, who hadn't so much as twitched through all of this.

"We'll catch up." He murmured. "We have plenty of time, now."

"I hope so." Said Padmé softly. "We did just join a war, you know." Anakin sighed.

"I do know. Believe me, I thought about staying hidden in the Outer Rim, living a happy life as far from the Empire as I could get. In the end, though – I can't do that. We left our kids with a mess of a Galaxy, we owe it to them to at least try and fix it." Padmé laced her fingers through his.

"I think you're right." She said. "This isn't going to be easy, though." Anakin shrugged.

"We've always had people trying to kill us and everyone we love." She shook her head.

"That's not what I mean. I love you, of course, and I know you love me, but – we're strangers, Ani. We've never been able to spend much time together, and now we've been apart for years. Not to mention, we'll have to learn to live together, to really be together. It will be a lot of work, for both of us." She leaned over to drop her head onto his shoulder. "Worth it, always, but –"

"But not as easy as we'd like it to be." Anakin finished, when she broke off. "We'll figure it out, Padmé. I have faith in us."

Her shoulder shook in a silent huff of laughter. "Oh, go to sleep, you optimist." Anakin grinned.

"As my lady wishes." He let his grin turn a little crooked. "At some point, when the kids get bored of being glued to us, I intend to catch up on other things." Padmé's eyes went dark, and this time, her smile was decidedly wicked.

"Oh, I expect nothing less, General Skywalker."

Epilogue. Two Weeks Later.

The cave they had turned into a comms room was near the top of the canyon, close enough that natural light filtered in, catching the red stone and all of the veins of different stone and minerals running through it.

It was a welcome respite from the rest of the base, underground as it largely was. Bail allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sight before he turned his attention to the meeting assembling in the room.

It was a commanding group. More than likely, they would never all stand in the same room again, but for this, Bail felt they had to see each other in person, know this movement was real.

Ten years ago, Senator Bail Organa would never have dreamt of this moment, of shaking hands with a Mandalorian warlord or a Separatist General. Ten years ago, Ferus Olin had been a businessman, a former Jedi Padawan. Now, he was a rebel leader, talking politely with Obi-Wan and Skywalker in the corner. Ten years ago, he'd had many of the same friends, but certainly had never seen such resolve in their eyes. As if to remind him of that, Mon laid a hand on his arm.

"We are ready, I think." She said softly. She was a practiced hand at keeping her emotions hidden, but Bail could still see the steely excitement in her. Bail smiled. He and Padmé and Mon had discussed the issue of who would lead them at length, but in the end, there was only one choice.

"The floor is yours, my friend." He told her. Mon raised a hand. The low murmur of conversation drained away as, one by one, the rebels turned to her, forming a loose half-circle around her. Bail took a step back to stand beside Padmé.

"I thank you all for your decisions to come here." Said Mon, her voice carrying in the large room. "I understand it is a risk for all of us to be in one room, but I think you'll all agree it is necessary for this."

"Risks must be taken in order to form alliances." Said Kryze, with a gracious nod. Bail wondered whether she'd grown up in Mandalorian Court. She was Satine's sister, and she had manners when she chose to use them, but he couldn't picture her sharp haircut and armor in Sundari.

"We speak of war, do we not?" asked Horn Ambigene, less graceful. "Not like those squabbling fools on Corellia?"

"In time." Said Bail. "We cannot afford for the Emperor to know of our existence now, as I'm sure you agree, General." Ambigene scowled, but he eventually made a noise that was probably agreement. "We will prepare for war starting today, across the Galaxy and in secret."

"It's a dangerous thing we're proposing." Said Mon, her voice solemn. "After today, there will be no turning back. We will either forge a new galaxy together or we will be lined up and shot together. Are all of you certain this is what you want to do?"

"As long as the Sith are alive, we Jedi in danger whether we're part of a rebel movement or not." Said Ferus Olin, just as serious. "Better to die fighting than hunted down like animals." Ambigene and Kryze both nodded agreement. So too, Bail noted, did Obi-Wan and Skywalker.

"We laid the seeds of this movement before the fall of the Republic." Said Bail. "It has taken me a great deal of time to come to terms with what we must do, but I believe it is the only just course." He took a deep breath. "For Alderaan."

"For Ryloth." Said Padmé Amidala.

"For Genonosis and the Confederacy." Said Horn Ambigene.

"For the Jedi." Said Ferus Olin.

"For Mandalore." Said Bo-Katan Kryze.

"For Dac." Said Meena Tilles.

"For all who suffer under Imperial rule, and against those who have thrived because of it." Said Mon, a note of finality in her words.

"We are agreed, then." Said Bail, leaning over the carved outcropping of rock. "We who are gathered here swear solemnly upon the vows we hold most dear that we shall free our Galaxy from the tyranny of Darth Sidious's empire, or we shall die in the attempt." He watched as Mon met the eyes of every being in the room, and each nodded their assent. She looked to him last, her blue eyes full of conviction. Bail nodded. Mon turned back to the group of them.

"Then, by the agreement of the representatives here today, the Alliance to Restore Freedom to the Galaxy is born."

A/N: Three years later, and we're done. Massive thank yous to everyone who took the time to read, favorite, and review this story. I never thought this would become what it did, and you all are the reason I was wrong. I do intend to write more in this universe, as I will probably never be over my Star Wars phase. Until next time, readers.