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| - The hangar bay was filled with barely ordered madness. Technicians and pilots stormed across the durasteel decks, taking up their stations for the moment all had awaited. Through the wide open bay doors and shimmering airlock could be seen the blue sphere of Contruum, dotted by the rebel fleet. Only a few minutes before, the Baci had arrived in the system. And, though only known to a few, the Hapan Royal Navy waited quietly for the opportune moment on the other side of the planet’s gravity well. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” Leia pursed her lips in worry, frown lines wrinkling her face. The hands gripping Padmé’s were cold with sweat. Padmé smiled reassuringly, and found that it wasn’t all that hard to do. She wasn’t worried about her well being with Anakin. They would be just fine. In fact, she was slightly ashamed at how little she would be doing in the last battle against the Baci. But she was too old now for Luke and Leia to condone her doing anything more. “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me and worry about yourself a little. You’re the one going into the tusk cat’s den. Don’t give a second thought to Anakin and me.” Leia didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she put on a good show of it. “You just be safe. I want you here when we get back.” Her mother leaned forward and pulled her into an embrace. “Same here. I’ve only just found you, Leia. I don’t want to lose you now.” She kissed her brow softly, fighting the urge to cry. After living and loving Anakin Skywalker, she knew better than to protest when his offspring decided to be foolhardy and brave. It wouldn’t do a bit of good. The best she could manage was to be supportive and pray to the stars they came home to her. Leia nodded into her shoulder. “You won’t, Mom. I promise.” Padmé pulled away, a smile fixed on her face. “Good. I’ll hold you to it. And that goes for your brother, too,” she added, spying Luke’s approach over Leia’s shoulder. He came to stand between them, an arm draped across both. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he smiled down at her, all good humor outwardly. Padmé wondered if it was for Leia’s sake or her own. “Cale Wilos won’t know what hit him.” She squeezed the arm around his waist a little tighter. “He’ll rue the day he decided to pick on my children,” she chuckled. And the statement wasn’t entirely bravado, either. Though Force blind, Padmé knew enough to recognize Luke was a powerful Jedi, maybe even more than Anakin had been. He would doubtlessly prevail in a fair fight. The only problem was, she couldn’t be sure a fair fight is what he’d get. Luke laughed along, then gave Leia a nudge. “Are you ready?” he asked softly. Leia nodded, eyes on the floor. They were dressed in matching Jedi robes of a soft tan color, carrying only lightsabers, and Padmé thought the resemblance between them had never been more pronounced. That wasn’t always the case with those two, but at times she did see it. She thought it came with the determined set of the jaw and powerful, certain eyes that she readily admitted were all Skywalker. “All right then,” he sighed. “Mom, I’ll see you when we get back.” He bent to kiss the top of her silver head. “You and Anakin be careful out there.” “We will,” she caressed his cheek. “And please, try to come back in one piece.” He smiled roguishly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His true hand extended to Leia, and she took it. “Let’s go. Our shuttle’s waiting.” Padmé watched their retreating figures until they disappeared inside the waiting ship twenty meters away. Then she let out a wistful sigh, a painful vice squeezing her chest. She knew it wouldn’t abate until she could see them both with her own eyes again. “I hope they’ll be all right,” a voice from behind startled her. She gave a little jump, spun around, and then laughed. “Oh Jaina, I’m sorry, you surprised me!” Jaina stood with her helmet in the crook of her arm, the orange flight suit wrapping loosely around her form. A smile straight off of Han Solo’s face was plastered across her visage. “No, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s the Jedi training—sometimes I forget to switch out of stealth mode,” she winked. Padmé laughed again. “It’s fine, don’t trouble yourself.” She placed her hands on her thin hips and studied her granddaughter appraisingly. “Well look at you, Vornskr Commander! Are you all set?” Jaina nodded vigorously. “We’re just waiting for the signal. We’re not supposed to launch with everyone else, not until right before the shields are down and Mara and Dad move in.” “It seems like General Antilles and the Admiral have all bases covered. I don’t see how we can lose,” Padmé grinned. “Let’s hope,” Jaina sighed, crossing her fingers. There was a slight commotion off to their right, and both women swiveled to watch. It turned out to be nothing more than one of the Chiss squadrons trying to push through the multitude to their clawcraft. Padmé spotted Jag Fel among them. “Oh look, it’s Jag and Spike Squadron,” she pointed. Her glance flickered briefly over Jaina, and she was slightly startled to see her pale at least two shades. Her gloved fists tightened around the flight helmet. “What’s wrong?” Padmé asked, concerned. Jaina shrugged it off, but still gave the air of being somewhat out of breath. “Nothing. Why?” Her smile, meant to be reassuring, was faint. Padmé cut another glance over at the young colonel, a sly thought slithering its way into her mind. “Let’s go wish him luck.” “He’s busy,” Jaina protested, her eyes fixed on the slim figure waiting for his ladder to be wheeled into pace. Padmé flatly ignored her, and took off across the hangar. Jaina followed, without any of the protest she first exhibited. “Jag!” Padmé called, waving to the man who had been something like a grandson to her for many years. He turned at the sound of his name, but his green eyes swept right over her and fixed on the figure behind her. The whole set of his body seemed to change at the sight of Jaina, and Padmé felt strangely pleased at the new development she had just discovered. How had she not seen it before? They were perfect for each other. Jag greeted her with a hug and Jaina with a formal bow. “It’s good to see you both,” he smiled, gaze locked on her granddaughter. Padmé watched for Jaina’s reaction. Though she tried to temper it to something polite and distant, the affection in her returning smile couldn’t be masked. “You look well,” she said, barely a whisper. “Thank you,” he responded with the same intensity. It was probably the first time they had seen each other in over a month, and there they were, stuck in a public place with no way to truly voice their relief. Suddenly Padmé felt awkward and out of place, as if she had just intruded on a private moment. “I hope these shield strippers you’ve been working on are up to the task,” she chuckled uncomfortably. “I’m going to be the one out there with them, you know.” As if realizing for the first time that someone else was there, Jag turned to face Padmé. “Yes, I knew. And if the calculations of our scientists are correct, they should function just fine.” His attention slowly gravitated back towards Jaina as he spoke, like she was a magnet his eyes couldn’t stray from. “Oh, good,” she smiled. There was a very long and embarrassed pause, and finally Padmé said, “Well, we just wanted to wish you good luck out there.” “Thank you,” he turned his smile briefly on her. Then to Jaina, “And to you as well, Jedi Solo. Clear skies.” “Clear skies,” she echoed, and reluctantly followed Padmé away from the handsome pilot. After they drew out of earshot she murmured her goodbyes, something about checking her preflight status, and then was gone. A wake of uneasiness and longing trailed behind her. Padmé sighed once again. If anyone would understand what Jaina was going through, it would be her. The trials of a doomed and secret romance were many. With nothing else to do, Padmé made her way to the plain yacht commissioned for her own undertaking. The entire rear was stuffed with equipment and one large control panel affixed with all the necessary knobs and switches that would end the Baci regime. Despite that, the process was rather uncomplicated. Once the weapon had charged, all it took was the press of a button. The Chiss were all about efficiency. Anakin was waiting for her in the cockpit. He pivoted in the pilot’s seat to smile at her, and she took a seat beside him. “Is it prepped and ready?” she asked. “All green,” he answered. He was young and tasked with a mission of tantamount importance, but Padmé could see no nervousness in him. His blue eyes shone like ice crystals, ready and full of enthusiasm. She buckled her crash webbing. “Then let’s go.”
* * * Leia let Luke handle all the piloting duties without protest, too unsettled to trust herself at the helm of anything. It was only the two of them on the small vessel and so there was no pressure to feign more confidence than she felt. The truth was, she was scared out of her mind. She had spent the months since her rescue trying to do nothing but erase the memory of Cale from her mind, and then all of a sudden she found herself racing right back into his clutches. Yet even the mere thought of laying eyes on him again sent her trembling. Luke slid their shuttle out of the Pillory’s hangar bay, and then they were truly alone. The two fleets had drawn an invisible line between them, and the area of empty space separating them was quiet and somber. Like a tomb, she thought morbidly. The Dintellion hung at the fore of the Baci fleet, still showing signs of damage from the beating at Terephon. That was their destination, and Luke kept to their course in an unswerving line. His presence exuded peace and strength, and she grappled to feel the same sort of serenity. It persisted in eluding her. Her thoughts strayed to her family, most prominently to Han. They had fought constantly since she had decided to accompany Luke to his fated duel, and not in the barbed way that had marked their courtship. It had been truly venomous, and some of his words had left deep marks. She understood that it had all sprung from his love of her and need to protect her, but it stung nonetheless. She prayed she could make it through if only to be able to kiss him again, finally soothe the rifts opened in their marriage. The Baci flagship loomed closer and closer until it filled the viewport. They were given clearance, and Luke let the tractor beam haul them into the correct hangar. Leia’s heart pounded louder in her ears with every passing second, and she struggled not to fall into a dark panic. Thankfully, Luke was there to hold her hand and whisper soft things that he might or might not have said aloud, things that swept away the terror and encouraged a sense of calm. A cold sort of surety shivered up her arm from his touch and through the rest of her body. His whole being seemed to remind her that she was not alone, that they faced whatever came together. The shuttled docked, and Leia could see the gathering of Baci waiting for them. There was a surprisingly small number of guards considering the circumstances, but she wouldn’t complain about that. The only thing that truly unsettled her was the single-person greeting party standing patiently for them to disembark. Zeya. Her raven hair was perfectly combed and glistened under the bright bay lights. The form fitting officers’ uniform she favored was pressed and neat, and the high black boots polished to a shine. A lightsaber hung at her hip. That chilly, secretive smile played along her lips. Luke unbuckled his restraints and waited for her to find the presence of mind to do the same. Finally she loosed them, and let him lead her to the exit ramp. It was already lowered. He proceeded her down it, needing not words to understand she would require him to shield her, at least for a while. “Master Skywalker,” Zeya trotted unhurriedly towards them. Her black eyes flicked to Leia, and something hostile leaped from her strong presence. “You. What are you doing here? It was agreed he would come alone.” Leia fell into the Force, trying to treat the verbal sparring just as she would a lightsaber fight, through the same detached lense. “I’m just here to observe, Zeya.” The Baci made no attempt to hide her distaste. “That wasn’t in the arrangements.” “You and the arrangements can suck space fumes,” Leia snapped. “I’m here to support my brother.” Zeya bit back whatever she might have said, a calculating haze to her eye, then turned her attention to Luke. “I am sorry for my behavior, Master Skywalker. If you would accompany me to the arena, we will begin.” With an angry clip to her walk, she marched back towards the turbolifts. Luke and Leia followed. Once inside the tiny enclosure, Zeya gave in and stated the obvious issue she had no doubt been wondering about the whole time. With an air of flippancy she said, “You terminated the baby, I see.” Leia felt her whole body tense, and Luke gently touched her arm in restraint. “No, I did not,” she came back. “Oh no?” Zeya cocked a black eyebrow. “But you are not with child. That is easily seen.” Leia swallowed hard. “I miscarried.” “Ah.” There was no emotion in the utterance, just simple acknowledgement. Leia got the sudden impression that Zeya hadn’t really cared one way or another. The doors parted, and a long hall stretched out before them. At the end of it a square of light and the cheers of millions filtered in from where it fanned into the sandy-floored stadium. No one spoke as they walked this unadorned corridor. The floor tilted upwards somewhat in an incline, so that by the time they reached the end they stood at its apex. Outside, the seats were filled with Baci spectators. It was just like that day a lifetime ago, when she had sat and watched a similar spectacle with Cale, whom she hadn’t yet decided whether or not was an enemy. This time, Cale stood in the center of the oval battlefield, and she knew exactly what side she was on. Zeya peered out of the open doorway and then turned back to Luke. “I leave you now. Enter when you are ready to begin.” Then she slid away from them without a backwards glance. Encircling the dirt floor where they would duel was a waist-high wall, partitioning Cale and the fighting ring from a band of armed guards. It was behind this wall she went, close enough to smell the sweat and blood. Luke took a deep breath and shrugged out of his outer cloak. He handed it to her and smiled encouragingly. “I guess this is it.” Leia was still staring out into the amphitheater, watching as Cale laughed and gestured to his people, encouraging them to chant his name. He looked exactly as she remembered, her disgust was the same, but the climax of the moment was a bit of a let down after the anticipation. All the fear that had been washing her veins seemed unnecessary as she looked on. He was no demon with a supernatural ability to subdue her. He was just a man—and a stupid, conceited one at that. He had no power over her. But now, maybe she had some over him. Her gaze returned to Luke, and she felt the realization she had been running from all along hit her square in the face. She had known it would come to that moment, even though she had told herself it wouldn’t. She handed the robe back to him. “No. Not for you, it isn’t. I have to be the one to fight him, Luke.” He blinked a coupled times, mouth open, then sputtered, “Leia, I know the desire for revenge has to be terrible, but I can’t let you give in—” “This has nothing to do with revenge.” She pulled out her lightsaber and ignited it. The thrumming buzz filled the air between them. “It has to do with justice. He took something from me, and from every woman like me. Now I’m going to take a little something from him.” “Leia!” his voice held command, but she had already taken three steps out the exit. She twisted her head back to look at him. “This is what I’ve been training for, and not you or anyone else is going to stop me.” By then Cale’s attention had turned to her. His face held pure shock and disbelief. He had expected a master and got the apprentice. “What are you doing here?” His tone mocked, suggesting she didn’t belong. Then his eyes slid over her shoulder to see Luke on the cusp of the entrance. “Is Master Skywalker too afraid to come out and play?” Leia kept walking, coming closer to him with each passing second. The lightsaber in her hand begged to be used. “What, are you too much of a coward to fight me, Cale? Am I only viable prey when I’m drugged and blinded by the Force?” “Leia, stop!” Luke had decided to intervene. He left the cover of the access hall, but was immediately seized by three Baci guards. It became clear only one Skywalker would be allowed in the arena at a time, else foul play would be called. Luke and Leia both knew what the punishment for that would be. Cale kept smirking. “Get out of my way so we can get this over with.” “But it’s only just started,” she reached arm’s length, and swung with all her might.
* * * Mara rapped her nails on the control panel, a constant, rolling tap that gave indication to the turmoil within. The Jade Sabre floated aimlessly with the fleet, waiting for the signal to move. Eighteen Jedi were packed into the ship with her. A dozen more waited on the Falcon. At the present, most were meditating, leaving her to sit and stew in the cockpit alone. She slouched in the comfortable pilot’s chair, one leg thrown over the arm, boots propped on the switchboard. The stirring of her fingers was the only movement. Luke and Leia’s shuttle had disappeared inside the Dintellion nearly fifteen minutes prior, and he was still live. Every second he stayed so was a gift from the heavens. She could feel him in the back of her mind, always a piece of him shared with her. They were one in so many ways, and part of her believed if he died she would perish as well. She focused her attention on the comm, willing the signal into existence. As soon as they gave the mark she would be off. The shields would go down and she could fly straight to her husband, and then everything would be okay. Together, they would make it back out. A light was blinking. Her eyes flickered to the tactical map, displaying the positions of the ships in both navies. A very small, red blip was taking a turn around the Baci convoy. It was making a slow curve, and right in its intercept path was the nondescript yacht carrying Anakin, Padmé, and the secret Chiss weapon. Mara sat up in her seat. Shavit. What to do, what to do. Anakin might move out of the way with enough subtlety to avoid suspicion, but then, he might not. She could move to assist, but that would draw unwanted attention. But was that worth the risk of the weapon being taken? It wasn’t like she could comm Wedge to ask. There was no such thing as a secure comm channel anymore. She decided to bide her time and watch what happened. But it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared, just in case.
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