AN: WELCOME! I know, right?! We're already going on this! Welcome back! Or...welcome to this massive saga! This is In Chaos, I Thrive, the third part of the story that started with From Grace, I Fall, and its sequel, From Darkness, I Rise. Let me explain.

I struggled with the format on this one. Originally, I was going to start this story at 5 BBY and tell important bits in flashbacks. BUT KURENAINO, you may say. That's, like, a fourteen year gap since the end of the last story! And you HATE flashbacks! Yeah, guys, I know. The stuff in those fourteen years, turns out, is REALLY important to establishing what will be going on by the time I was going to start. And it had to be told. So, this next part is going to be a but different, only...fifteen chapters or so, dedicated to setting up the state of the galaxy and establishing character relationships that are absolutely essential to the next part. This isn't a one-shot collection. This is a countdown to a galactic mess.

I actually had a lot of fun writing this one, and we're going to have a lot of fun with this story together, I promise you. If you're new to this series...uh, you CAN start here, if you like, but it's highly recommended you go back and check out, at the very least, From Darkness, I Rise. Long, I know, but I've been told it's a fun read. Alright, business done! Enjoy, my lovelies!

Chapter 1: Fulcrum - 18 BBY

Mos Eisley was, to put it simply, a wretched hive a scum and villainy. A haven for murders and thieves, where lawlessness was the rule, where the only authority acknowledged was that of the Hutt Cartel. There was a time when the town was a city, bustling and sprawling, not grand as a city on a world that mattered, but for Tatooine, Mos Eisley was the center of everything. Until a particularly vicious attack during the Clone Wars destroyed every major city on the planet, and in their hour of need, Jabba the Hutt came to render aid to the desperate, broken people, and crime reasserted itself as the only law, the shambled, burning towns rebuilt under the careful watch of a mighty cartel, forced to lay low, came out of hiding to reassert its power.

Crime had flourished during the Clone Wars, the peacekeeping Jedi that once stood vigilant against the lawless occupied with leading the Republic against the Separatists, and the major cartels had gathered tremendous wealth and strength, empires of their own that thrived on the business of illicit activities. Then came Mandalore's Shadow King. A violent storm of shadow and fire and rage that would see the galaxy burn if it meant the crime cartels would be rendered to ash, and they were. Crime was not eliminated, but the cartels were, save for Jabba the Hutt, leaving a void that Mandalore stepped in to fill, peerless warriors with a talent for violence that was bred by the Death Watch, the ruthless guard Mandalore's mighty Empire.

Then came the Galactic Empire out of the tatters of the Republic, and everything changed. With the abrupt end of the Clone Wars, former Separatist worlds found themselves crushed under the boot of the Empire, local populations forced to turn to crime and smuggling simply for survival as those who opposed the new regime were hunted and destroyed. From the chaos, Jabba the Hutt, the miraculous sole survivor of Mandalore's crime purge, saw his own influence spike as the lawless rushed to his protection, and within months, the Hutt Cartel was reborn, more vast and stronger than it had ever been, allowed to thrive in the vacuum the other cartels had left, and left largely alone by the Galactic Empire, who found themselves struggling to exert control over worlds closer to home.

Mandalore supported the Empire that brought peace to the war torn galaxy, but with the influence of Jabba on Tatooine on the edges of the Mandalorian Empire, Bo-Katan and her Death Watch found themselves struggling to maintain control of the vast expanse of their territory, the once called Hutt Space falling back into lawlessness with Jabba's sudden rise. Bo-Katan had called on Palpatine to help secure her boarders, but the Emperor had his own troubles as the first year of his rule was spent trying to exert his control over the Core Worlds, a difficult task made even harder by pockets of violent, random opposition that spread chaos and dissent throughout the Empire. Equally violent attempts by the Empire's top commanders to secure the galaxy with forced order only led to further resistance to Imperial rule. It was, in short, a mess.

Without Imperial support, Mandalore's warrior's spread across Mandalore Space to serve as the lone force of the Mandalorian law, and many turned to bounty hunting as an effective and profitable means of cleaning up the galaxy of the criminals that drew enough attention to become noticed. Many of these jobs came from Jabba himself, exerting his influence by destroying those that may stand as a challenge to his uncontested cartel. Still more of these contracts came from the Galactic Empire itself, the new power offering insane sums of credits for the capture or execution of the Empire's enemies in an attempt to rid themselves of the sources of the threats to their uncontested rule.

It was a good time to be a bounty hunter, and Mos Eisley, heart of Jabba's crime empire, was the best place to look for contracts.

"You would think," one man said to his companion as they strode across the sands to Mos Eisley's cantina, "that the Empire would have control by now." He was tall, the Mandalorian armor he wore the black and red of the Death Watch and marked with carbon scoring that had yet to be scrubbed off, indicating his recent forays into battle.

"Don't complain," his companion said softly, a faint wind rustling the black robes that were integrated into his own black and red armor, the helmet on his head adorned with sweeping horns that served to invoke respect among those he commanded, and fear among those that opposed him. "If the Empire had no enemies, we'd be out of work."

"If the Empire had no enemies, maybe they'd get off their royal asses and finally do something about the Hutts." His companion scoffed.

"That isn't likely. The Hutts are vastly wealthy, and attacking them is extremely dangerous, both economically and politically." He shrugged, the pair passing by a small group of scruffy humans that quickly averted their gazes from the Mandalorians. Thieves, most likely, attempting to go unnoticed by the intimidating pair. "And, I hear the Emperor is making good with Jabba. Keeping the cartel out of your hair while your own Empire is struggling is a good move."

"Is it?" the other asked. "I would think keeping Mandalore happy would be a top priority."

"It is," he said as they walked into the cantina, the air thick with hazy smoke. "But not when Jabba's involved. That slug never lost power when Mandalore took over, and he's stronger now than ever. Why should the Empire get involved and pick a side when they don't have to? Mandalore and the Hutts keep each other in check, there's no reason to disrupt that balance. The Empire's a long ways from expanding into the Outer Rim anyway, and nobody has ever cared about Tatooine."

"Because of the sand?" he offered, and his companion nodded.

"Because of the sand. I've always hated the stuff, it'll scuff your armor something fierce."

They walked through the crowded, noisy room, passing by the bar where ruffians sat drunkenly arguing with each other and tables where several different species sat gambling, and the headed right for the back, where a dozen bounty hunters gathered around a terminal, speaking in hushed whispers to each other as they collectively scrolled through the contracts posted to the system. Every now and then, one of the bounty hunters would tag a contract, and the information would be sent to their datapads to be accepted, or released back into the system for another to take. The pair sat behind the group at a table tucked into a corner and took out a datapad which they linked to the terminal, and a moment later, the contracts were displayed before them on the small screen.

"Filter the results," the man in robes softly commanded, and his companion nodded and did as he was told, adjusting the search parameters to only display contracts posted by the Empire, using their vast wealth and the excess of bounty hunters in the Outer Rim to the best of their advantage. What was posted was more of the usual, suspected spies and saboteurs, and a general reminder that information on fugitive Jedi was to be reported to the Imperial Inquisitorius for a sum of credits. Nobody ever reported fugitive Jedi if they weren't actively working for the Empire. A dead Jedi was worth more than the information on one, and the Mandalorians were ruthless in their hunt for them. Still, in one year of Imperial rule, very few survivors of the Jedi Purge had actually been found, and the reminder went largely ignored. Jedi were rare, if not extinct, and there were better ways to make credits than chasing ghosts.

A collective gasp went up in the group of the bounty hunters, and the two Mandalorians looked their way as chairs shuffled and the previous conversations were silenced. A new contract had been posted, one of the rare contracts that couldn't be tagged and accepted by a single hunter, but was open to all who would make the attempt. What got the attention of the hunters in the cantina wasn't who the contract was for, but how much was being offered.

"Right on schedule, it would seem," the man in the horned helmet drawled, amusement in his voice as he rose, his companion following suit and quietly tagging the contract as they moved to stand among the other bounty hunters.

"One million credits?!" one of them gasped, staring slack-jawed at the display and quickly tagging the information on his datapad, his eyes quickly scanning over the information that was sent to him. "Obi-Wan Kenobi..." he said softly as he read the information. "Fugitive Separatist leader."

"Never heard of him," one of the hunters, a Devaronian, said.

"I thought that Dooku guy ran the Separatists," a human said, and an agitated Duros rolled her eyes.

"You're all a bunch of ignorant, backwater nerf herders, you know that? Where were you during the war?"

"Staying out of it," a Zabrak female drawled, and the hunters erupted with laughter, and the Duros hissed with annoyance and stuffed her datapad into its pouch.

"You guys go ahead and take that job. A million credits isn't worth anything when you're dead."

"Scared, little girl?" the Devaronian asked, leering at the woman, who shot him a look of disgust. "I bet our Mandalorian friends here will take that job. Mandalorian's ain't scared of anything."

"Scared, no," the Mandalorian said, standing beside his intimidating, dark companion. "But also not stupid. Read the information" he said, holding up his datapad and turning it around so they could all see. "Wanted for sparking the rebellion on Umbara, evaded Imperial pursuit and disappeared after three days of running." He whistled. "Any guy that gives the Empire this much trouble is worth leaving alone so the rest of us can be entertained."

"This guy sparked the rebellions on Umbara?" the Devaronian gasped, pointing to the image of the young, unassuming man on the datapad.

"He's a baby," the human said as he put away his datapad. "He's just a boy, I've got a son older than him, from the look of it. What is the Empire doing hunting children."

"Dangerous children..." the Duros said. "The Empire wouldn't be offering so many credits if this job was easy. Last time I saw a contract this big was for the Black Sun, and they wanted hunters to go after the guy so they could draw him out." She scoffed. "They never intend on paying."

"Says here to report information to the Inquisitorius," the human muttered. "And he's a Jedi?" He looked at the Mandalorians. "You look like you've been out there in the fighting. If the Inquisitors are involved with this...Obi-Wan, is he involved on what's happened on Raada?"

"Raada?" the robed Mandalorian asked. "Where's Raada? What's happened?"

"You don't know?" The Mandalorian shook his head.

"We've been in the Expansion Region for weeks on a job, we haven't heard anything."

"Raada," he said slowly, "is a farming moon, little place here in the Outer Rim. The Imperials took over," He leaned in and lowered his voice. "They say there was a Jedi there. The Inquisitors were deployed."

"That's it," the Devaronian said, dropping his datapad on his chair. "I'm out. This is too much trouble for me. There was a fifty thousand credit contract I saw earlier, go back to that." Quiet mutters of agreement were muttered, and the bounty hunters dismissed the contract and began looking for something more reasonable. The Mandalorians took a moment to look at the group, and quietly accepted the contract on Obi-Wan Kenobi, and left the cantina without another word to anyone.

They were silent as they made their way across the sand streets of Mos Eisley toward the spaceport, a small spread of secure hangars run by the Hutts that was in a state of constant construction and rebuilding in an effort to recreate the massive compound that had existed before Tatooine was attacked. The bigger the spaceport, the more smugglers they could facilitate, and the effort had been a top priority for the past year and a half. It was slow going.

As they approached one of the enclosed, private hangars, a pair of heavily armed Trandoshans. Nodded their scaled heads and stepped out of the way, the heavy locks on the door clicking and whirring as it unlocked, and with a hiss, the door slid open, and the guard detail quickly closed the door once again when the pair had disappeared inside. The ship that sat inside the hangar was a large, sleek creation, jet black accented with blood red, a fearsome looking thing that bespoke of wealth and elegance. Arrow shaped in design, it boasted of rounded, smooth curves and wings that swept in a gentle arch from the rear of the ship, it's design specifically created to hide not only some of th most powerful engines ever made, but also to conceal powerful heavy laser cannons underneath its wings.

With a sigh of contentment, the Mandalorian slipped off his horned helmet and, smiling, walked up the boarding ramp into the confines of the Umbra. Obi-Wan Kenobi was home.

"They're getting desperate," Cody said, slipping off his helmet as he tapped on the controls to retract the boarding ramp and seal the airlock. "I'm surprised they didn't do this sooner. They must be really mad about what we did on Umbara."

"It is the first active rebellion we've encouraged..." Kenobi said softly, sitting in the pilot's seat and prepping the ship for takeoff, the engines smoothly beginning to hum as they engaged. "Everything else has been small by comparison, but they'll have their hands full with Umbara for months. As we learned in the Clone Wars, Cody, hard handed tactics don't work on the Umbarans." Upon signal from the ship, the hangar's skydoors opened up, and when Cody dropped into the copilot's seat, Kenobi engaged the stealth system, lifted the ship into the air and pressed the accelerator forward, flying slow and close to the ground and heading out toward the vast desert of Tatooine.

"Are we worried about the Inquisitors yet?" Cody asked, and Kenobi shook his head.

"No, but I'm starting to wonder where they're getting these guys from. They did a pretty good job executing trained Jedi old enough to serve the Inquisitorius, so...where." His eyes narrowed as he looked out the forward viewport as the sand rushed past. "Sidious must have been training Force sensitives untouched by the Jedi if he..." Kenobi groaned as he smacked his head. "Dromund Kaas. It's the only explanation."

Cody tilted his head as he looked the Sith Lord over. "Before my time, sir."

"Me and Quin. Mission to Sith Space back when I was a Jedi." He waved his hand in the air, dismissing the question when a stab of pain pierced him. It was old pain, but it never seemed like it. "Long story, but at the heart of it was this. Sith Temple. Lots and lots of acolytes of the Dark Side. I bet you Sidious is drawing from there, they were awaiting the return of the Sith last time I was there."

"That where we're headed next?"

"No," Kenobi said firmly. "Dromund Kaas will put us too close to Sidious and Vader. And," he chirped, a bright smile coming to his lips, "our next spot is the Lars farm to pick up Luke! I need a few weeks with the kids, I have missed them."

Cody rolled his eyes as he scoffed, but he couldn't keep the smile from his lips. "I'll contact Jabba and Bo-Katan about this contract on you. We'll get the word out."

Kenobi nodded. "Find out about this matter on Raada as well. If there were Jedi there, I need to know. Maybe it's Luminara. We need to find her before the Empire does."

Mandalore stood in fierce opposition to the criminal Hutts, as everyone in the galaxy was well aware. As one rose, the other declined, until they became locked in a power struggle to control the Outer Rim territories that had, for thousands of years, belonged to the Hutts and now were part of the mighty Mandalorian Empire. It was a front, of course, a clever ploy set in motion to make it very difficult to occupy Mandalore Space. Bo-Katan and Jabba had been working very closely since the Empire arose, a dangerous alliance that put up the front of Imperial support and order under the militaristic Bo-Katan, while she quietly supported the expansion of the Hutt cartel to be used to smuggle supplies to worlds suffering under the yoke of Palpatine's Empire.

It was perfect. Organized crime protected by law and order, the front upheld by the Mandalorian bounty hunters that did jobs on behalf of the Empire, and averted suspicion away from them by taking out criminals that were stupid enough to draw attention to themselves. It wasn't enough to take down the Empire, which, despite unrest, grew stronger by the day by employing hash, brutal consequences for opposition, but it was a good place to begin a movement, when the time was right. When the Jedi younglings have grown to fighting age. When it would be time to establish the New Sith Empire.

The ship slowed, the whine of the engines lowering to a soft thrum as they stopped in the air and lowered down into a large hole carved in rock and sand, the below the surface courtyard serving to keep the sun and heat away from the homestead. Kenobi was out of his seat before the ship finished powering down, and before the whine of the engines died, the Sith Lord was running down the boarding ramp to meet Owen Lars, his arms crossed over his chest and glaring at the uninvited guest.

"You know," Owen said, almost growled, "one day, you're going to lead the wrong people here, with how much you come and go. How do you expect Luke to stay safe when he's around you."

Kenobi clapped the farmer on the shoulder. "It's a stealth ship, Owen, nobody sees me come and go, and unless the Empire starts capitalizing on sand, Tatooine has nothing they want. You and your wife and my son are safe."

"Well, Jabba-"

"Jabba," Kenobi stressed, "works for me. I've told you. As do the Mandalorians, so you have nothing to worry about." He could see the farmer's shoulders relax, and though he still looked displeased, he could feel the man filled with worry, not anger, and it was quickly beginning to fade.

It had been easy enough to convince Owen Lars to help care for the infant son of his brother, Anakin Skywalker, the young Knight listed by the Empire as one of the traitorous Jedi that was confirmed dead in the aftermath of the purges that swept the galaxy. It became a different matter entirely when Obi-Wan had told the farmer that Luke would be staying with the Lars family while Obi-Wan was away fighting against the Empire that now claimed to rule the galaxy. Luke would be Luke Lars when he was on Tatooine, but otherwise, he would be raised as Luke Kenobi, adopted by the man that Anakin had said was very dangerous, and when he was old enough, he would be taught how to use the Force. Owen didn't like it at all. After all, it was the Force that got his brother marked for death and killed, and now it seemed that this rogue Jedi would condemn Anakin's son to the same fate.

It wasn't that he didn't like Obi-Wan. He did, despite his brother's warnings, which had been frantic and wrathful the last time they met. Anakin had said that Obi-Wan was a bad man, a dangerous man, that he was out to hurt Anakin personally, and Owen believed it. But he also believed that a man that would fix and improve vaporators for farmers he hardly knew, a man that would adopt the son of his enemy and raise it as his own, a man that would fight against the Empire that killed the Jedi was a man that was at least trying to do the right thing. Perhaps the man was seeking redemption for past wrongs. Owen didn't know, but it wouldn't be fair to punish baby Luke for it.

Beru was another matter. Beru loved little Luke, and she absolutely adored the man that was his father, and when she stepped out of the homestead with Luke in her arms and saw her husband standing and talking with Obi-Wan Kenobi, she smiled brightly and rushed into his waiting arms.

Are you keeping safe?" she asked quickly, a smile on her face as she looked up at the Sith Lord from the protective embrace of his arms, a smiling Luke snuggled between them. "How are things in the galaxy? Is there really no more Republic?"

"You know there isn't, Beru," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her cheek as he took the giggling Luke from her arms, the one year old's presence reaching out to wrap itself around his father, warm and excited, and the Sith held him tightly. "We talk about this every time I'm here."

"I know, but it's just so hard to believe!" she said, clutching her husband's arm, and Owen sighed and gently pat her hand, his hard features relaxing in the presence of his wife's enthusiasm. "There's always been a Republic!"

"And the Empire will treat us just the same as the Republic did," Owen said softly. "With indifference. It doesn't matter what's happening in the galaxy, life never changes on Tatooine."

"Has Luke been good?" Obi-Wan asked the pouting woman softly, and she immediately brightened.

"He's an angel," she cooed, tapping the baby on the nose, and with a wild laugh, Luke grabbed at her finger. "It's...nice to have a child around."

A sly smirk passed over Obi-Wan's face, a devious light in his golden eyes. "You know, Beru, if you like, I can teach your husband how to make one."

"Oh, ha, ha, Kenobi," Owen said, his voice raised in both outrage and embarrassment. "You wouldn't know anyway, you didn't make Luke!"

"No, that's true," he said softly, his eyes drifting far away as he reached into the Force to conjure the vision he once had of his own son, the pain that followed readily welcomed and sharp within him. "But I did once. Long ago." Owen looked at the man before him, his golden eyes appearing to see nothing at all, a small, pained smile on his lips, and sympathy rushed through him like a wave that was completely unwelcome. He didn't want to like Obi-Wan. He thought it best for everyone involved if Luke stay safe on Tatooine, not go off for weeks at a time with his decidedly dangerous adoptive father. But when he looked at him now, he saw a father, not just to Luke, but to a child that came before him. There was a great deal he didn't know about this man. One day, he may stay around long enough to find out.

The warm, familiar comfort of Luke wrapped around him and brought Obi-Wan back to the present, the faint smile never fading. "Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?"

"...my speeder needs repairs," Owen grumbled. "I'd get parts to replace it, but, well, the shop that sold the parts blew up in the attacks."

"Oh." Kenobi frowned. "When I bring Luke back, I'll drop off a new one." He smiled softly when both the farmer and his wife's jaws dropped. "State of the art. You'll have the best speeder on Tatooine."

"I-I can't-"

"Credits are of no consequence," Kenobi interrupted, holding up his hand. "But, if you don't want it, consider it a late birthday gift for Luke. I'll contact Jabba and have the parts you need brought to you. I can fix your old one when I come back." Owen couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"When will you be back?" Beru asked quietly, gently stroking the shock of blond hair on the baby's head, and the Sith Lord shrugged.

"A few weeks. Maybe more. I need to lay low to plan my next move and-"

"Sir!" Cody shouted, rushing from the ship and grinning like an idiot. "He knows all about Raada. His relief effort went and evacuated the entire farming community on the moon to rescue them from the Empire's activities there."

"I don't suppose he rescued a Jedi was living in that farming community," Kenobi said, bored and disbelieving, and Cody's grin grew even wider.

"You better believe he did."

In the personal hangar within the Palace of Alderaan, there was always an empty space left open. Just in case, Organa always said, and everybody simply left it at that. In truth, the space was left open for the Umbra, and that space was now occupied, the cargo ramp extending with a hiss as two Mandalorian warriors came striding out, one of them holding a baby, and followed closely by the largest rancor anyone had ever seen, its skin a ghostly white and long, wicked horns sprouting from its head. Servants cleared the way quickly, though nobody was afraid of the ambling beast anymore. They had seen enough of the creature to know that it wouldn't attack unless its master commanded it.

Obi-Wan strode into the living room where Breha Organa sat watching as Leia smacked the ground with blocks, laughing like a thing crazed until she rose up into the air, her brown eyes wide as she was drawn to the cause of the manipulation of the Force, and instantly began squirming and howling with laughter when she saw and felt the presence of her father and her brother. Breha rose to her feet and bowed as Obi-Wan walked over, placed a kiss on Leia's forehead, and took her out of the gentle grasp of the Force, clutched to his chest next to her brother, the two twins wriggling and grasping at each other's arms.

"Master Kenobi," Breha said softly, a gentle smile on her face. "We were expecting you, but not so soon." He flashed her a smile.

"Fastest ship in the galaxy. Probably." He sat on the ground and placed the twins among the blocks, the rancor dropping to his belly on the ground, exhaling with such force that it ruffled the children's hair, and promptly went to sleep. "Have you noticed any development of Leia's powers?" he asked softly, the twins watching with rapt attention as the Sith Lord splayed his hands before him, and the blocks around the children began to rise. Giggling in response, Luke and Leia extended their own fingers before them in imitation of their father.

"Things move on their own when she's sleeping sometimes," Breha said, watching in fascination as the blocks moved to orbit around the twins. Luke reached out and grabbed one, and promptly began to chew on it. "Little things. And not much."

"Luke's doing that as well," he said, nodding. "I'll need to take them to see Yoda sometime soon, he has more experience with baby Force sensitives than I do. The sooner they can control it, the safer they will be." He lowered the blocks to the ground and stood, and with their toys restored, the twins began the task of building together.

"Breha," a voice called as the door opened, the swift, purposeful footfalls entering the room and bringing with them Bail Organa. "Let me know when..." He stopped suddenly and stared at the room, the massive rancor sleeping in the sun that entered through the window, the clone soldier that sat at a table scrubbing the carbon scoring off his armor, the twins building an infant masterpiece on the ground, and his wife, standing beside a Lord of the Sith. Bail Organa smiled brightly, and rushed forward to take Kenobi's hand. "I was worried about you," he said, the enthusiasm in his voice making it seem as though he had never been worried at all. "That business on Umbara got very nasty very quickly. It's a bold move. An open rebellion."

"One that's too small to succeed, but give me time, and I'll use their example to ignite the Western Reaches. There are Separatist strongholds all over the place out there that think the war is still going."

"You may not need as much time as you think," Bail said, swiping his finger over a datapad and handing it to the Sith Lord. "This happened a few days ago. Cody said you've been out of galactic events for nearly three weeks, so I doubt you would have heard."

Gold eyes darted over the datapad, and slowly, a wide grin spread across Kenobi's features. "The Antar Atrocity," he read. "Antar just can't get a break, can it?"

"Massacres, all over the planet," Bail said grimly, shaking his head and his face pained. "All part of the Emperor's attempts to pacify former Separatist strongholds. Not all of Antar was loyal to the Confederacy, but the Empire made no attempt to sort them out. All of them were rounded up and slaughtered."

"And all thanks to our good friend Wilhuff Tarkin," Kenobi said, grinning as he handed the datapad back to the somber Bail. "Mass arrests, execution and slaughter. He must have taken a page from Skywalker's book, or what I did to him really messed with his ability to manipulate a situation."

"Or the goal is just fear," Bail said, firm and angry. "Resistance becomes more difficult when people are afraid of retribution that severe."

"Mm, maybe in the short term, but this sort of brutality will always find opposition." Kenobi sighed wistfully. "Oh, if it was me at Sidious' side, the entire galaxy would have been united by now. He knows he needs a diplomatic, manipulative hand, what is he doing..." He sighed again. "Working with what he has, I suppose."

"You almost sound like you miss it," Bail scoffed, and the Sith Lord shrugged.

"This should have been my Empire. I was supposed to be a part of it, and now..." He laid a hand on his chest and sighed dramatically. "I need to burn it all down. It feels like having to execute your own grandfather. For his own good. For mercy."

"Strange thing for you to long for an Empire while you're working to destroy one."

"Is it?" Kenobi said, a dark tone to his voice and his eyes glowing with greed and lust and longing. "Have the ruins of Palpatine's Empire, for all I care, establish a new Republic, if that's what you want, but I will have an Empire. A Sith Empire. I want to retake my palace and rule from Mustafar. I want to sit on the throne of Dromund Kaas in Sith Space. I want to rule over Ziost and Malachor and Moraband. You can have your feeble Republic. I will rule from a seat of power in an Empire ruled by the Code of the Sith."

From her place on the floor, Leia shrieked with laughter and clapped her little hands together. Luke knocked the blocks over. "Well," Bail said softly, "we need to take down this Empire first."

"That we do." Kenobi took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, to ease the rising Dark Side within him. "This matter on Antar will help. I can use this to make an extremely big mess."

"Some people," Bail said slowly, measuring each word before he said it, "have been talking to me. Pointing out acts of kindness in this new, cruel galaxy of ours, and when there's a concentration of them, I try to find who's behind them, and we have a little talk."

Kenobi leaned in. "And what do you talk about?"

"Rebellion, Obi-Wan," Bail said softly, and the Sith Lord hissed and drew back.

"We can't, not now, it's too soon."

"Too soon, perhaps, but not too soon to begin forming an organized resistance for when the time is right! Already, I have operatives working missions to aid people that need it. The Empire will grow stronger, yes, but so will we."

"This is endangering Leia," he snarled, pointing to his twins on the floor, and Bail found himself looking into the face of not a Lord of the Sith, but a father. "If they trace this activity back to you, it will be over." Bail raised a hand to calm the man.

"I know. Which is why there's...another. I picked her up recently, and she's going to be coordinating my intelligence network. Under a codename, of course. Fulcrum. The point through which all our information passes." Kenobi's eyes widened in understanding.

"This is about Raada. This is about the Jedi you found." A wry smile came to Bail Organa's lips.

"She's in my study." Obi-Wan didn't wait for him to say another word before he sprinted out of the room and down the elegant halls of Aldera's palace. He knew the way. He had been there many times before. With a wave of his hand, he threw open the doors to the Prince's study and stopped in the doorway, breathing hard as he looked at the girl perched upon the desk, two small kyber crystals laying beside her. It wasn't the woman he was expecting. She was older, noticeably grown in the year and a half since he had seen her, the small lumps of her montrails beginning to elongate into adulthood. She stood slowly, cautiously, as if she didn't know if she was in danger or not, her hands shaking as she flooded with emotion. She didn't like this man. But her Master had loved him.

"Master Quinlan told me to tell you to fix the escape pods on your ships," Ahsoka whimpered. "He says they're not made to save organics, and it's a design flaw."

Kenobi laughed shortly, his throat constricting with emotion, and he rushed to the Togruta and tightly grasped her to his chest, the former Padawan shaking as she began to sob. He was a Lord of the Sith, the cause of all that was wrong in the galaxy, but right in that moment, she felt safe. "I need to know everything," Kenobi said softly, waving his hand to shut the doors, and he led her to a chair, the girl sitting obediently as the Sith leaned back against the desk before her. "It's plagued me not knowing what happened to Quin." The girl sniffled, her jaw clamped firmly shut. "Please, Ahsoka, I need to know how he died."

"What good will that do you?" she hissed, tears streaming down her face. She had been numb for so long, on the run for so long that she never felt safe enough to feel the weight of what had happened, not just to her, but to the Jedi, to the Force. "What good will it do him."

Without taking his eyes off of her, he unclipped Quinlan's lightsaber from his belt and held it out before her, the girl's blue eyes widening in disbelief. "Tell me, Ahsoka," he said softly, "and I'll tell you how I made his murderer burn."

And she did. Slowly, at first, but as she began to talk, as she opened herself up to the pain of the mutual grief that they shared, the words came quickly through the tears, and she told him everything. About how Quinlan had reconciled with Asajj Ventress, and how the Nightsister had died to save the man she loved. About how Plo Koon stood against Skywalker, a fellow Jedi, to give a Sith acolyte and his former Padawan a chance to live. About how Quinlan Vos had stood bravely against Anakin just so Ahsoka could escape with the proof of Kenobi's innocence in the Stewjon massacres, proof that condemned Anakin Skywalker as a murderer. About how she had delivered that proof to the Jedi Masters, and they had never returned. About how the Temple was attacked, filled with dead Jedi and children. How she found Master Yoda with a group of younglings and provided a distraction so they had a chance to escape. How she escaped Anakin Skywalker's wrath because Captain Rex, clone of the 501st, had saved her, and she'd been on the run ever since.

In the course of her story, Bail Organa entered with the twins, the babies crying helplessly and refusing to be consoled, stopping only when the Sith Lord took them and held them close, his wrath and pain and hatred touched with warm, small hands that did nothing to lessen his fury, but instead left him feeling understood. When Ahsoka had completed her story, Kenobi pressed Quinlan's lightsaber into her palm and told her about the duel on Mustafar, and how Anakin Skywalker, then the Sith Lord Darth Vader, had been defeated, dismembered, and left to burn.

Everything, all of it, was because of Ahsoka, because of Quinlan Vos' sacrifice. Because of the time that Plo Koon and Asajj Ventress bought with their lives. Order 66 was executed prematurely, too early for Kenobi's taste, but so early that it had sent Sidious scrambling to keep his plans from being completely destroyed, so early that his plans had backfired, the Force freed from his clutches when Darth Lumis walked away to achieve Mastery of the Dark Side, when Yoda and hundreds of yong Jedi survived when they would have otherwise perished. Ahsoka Tano, the presence in his visions, the curious shadow in the field of dead Jedi, the one that would come to stand beside him. It was all beginning to make sense. This was exactly what the Force had intended.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it myself," she said softly, cradling the baby Luke as the child slept, his fingers in his mouth. "I never thought Anakin could fall like that. He was...such a good friend to me..." She sniffled and shook her head when the Sith Lord remained silent. "And he replaced you. Again. I bet that hurts."

"It did," he said softly, holding Leia to his chest as he called upon the Force to lift the kyber crystals on the desk before him. "Where did you get these?"

"An Inquisitor," she said. "I killed him and broke his lightsaber, and I'm in need of a new one, since I gave mine to Rex." The Togruta sniffled. "I didn't even know there were Inquisitors."

"There will be more," Kenobi said softly. "I think I know where they're coming from, and now that one of them is dead..." He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Organa tells me you've signed up for this little..." Kenobi sneered. "Rebellion of his." The Togruta nodded. "It's far too early, the Force isn't ready, and even with the Empire reeling from the messes I've been making, they're meeting every uprising with crushing brute force. They'll extinguish the flames before they have a chance to catch fire. And now that they know you're alive, little Lady Tano," he said, flicking one of the protrusions of her growing montrails, "they'll be looking for you."

"I've been in hiding for a year, Kenobi," she spat defiantly. "I killed the man they sent to hunt me."

"And now," he said softly, "Darth Vader will know you're alive, and you're a huge loose end. The mistake that got away. He'll be hunting for you."

"What do we do?" Bail asked quickly when he watched fear fill the Togruta, and Kenobi growled in irritation.

"We give him something he wants more to chase." Obi-Wan smiled sadly at the twins. "I've been keeping low for a while. Time to make Sidious work for it. I'll keep them busy, and it will give you time to build support for your rebellion while Palpatine is looking the other way."

"That seems excessively dangerous," Bail said softly, but Ahsoka grinned at him, fierce and determined.

"I can get you the information you need," she said swiftly. "Places to strike, people to trust. Quinlan trained me really well for exactly this sort of thing." Her chest puffed with pride. "I won't embarrass him by failing."

Kenobi smirked. "Fulcrum."

The Togruta nodded. "Fulcrum. We'll have a rebellion ready to fight when you're ready."

Kenobi took a deep breath and looked at the relief workers before him. Introducing Bail Organa to Ahsoka Tano was a very good idea. "Get in touch with Bo-Katan," he said softly. "She controls a huge territory, you'll find allies there."

"I'll contact her by the end of the week," Bail said, reaching over and writing himself a note.

"I burned worlds as the Shadow King," Obi-Wan said softly. "It may be time to become the Shadow King again." He smiled, felt the Force run through him, urging him toward this end. The Antar Atrocity, the uprising on Raada, the death of an Inquisitor, the rebellion on Umbara, the Separatist holdouts in the Western Reaches. The galaxy was primed for chaos, it just needed to be spread. "Alright," Kenobi said as he smiled. "Let's go make a mess."