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| - Leia awoke to the faint sound of approaching footsteps, accompanied by gently whispered voices. Voices she knew. She blinked away the sleep from her eyes, then rolled over to face her sons. They looked surprised to see her alert. She was surprised to see them at all. Hadn’t it been less than twenty-four hours ago they had all left her like trash in a gutter? Anakin, her little Anakin, spoke first. His manner was timid and unsure, but he managed a smile. “Hey, Mom. Feeling any better?” She shifted onto her back and pulled the covers a little further up on her chest. His blue eyes were wary of her, and they broke Leia’s heart. The gash she had torn in the fabric of their family had to be mended somehow, if only for the sake of her children. “Not really,” she admitted. How could she possibly feel better? Han had come and gone, and shown no signs of forgiving her any time soon. Then again, she hadn’t really expected him to. “But I’m glad you’ve come,” she admitted, swallowing a growing lump in her throat. She would hold onto these shreds of her former life while she could. Jacen smiled gently at her, and sat on the end of her bed. One of his hands squeezed her leg affectionately. It took all of Leia’s strength of will not to recoil from his touch. She distrusted it, distrusted any touch, really. For months now, any touch she had been given only brought her pain. “Of course. Any time you need us, we’re here. Can I get you anything now? Are you thirsty?” She was thirsty, terribly thirsty. She was sure that all her bodily fluids must have been emptied in her never-ceasing stream of tears. Her whole body felt dry and dehydrated. Her eyes were red and swollen from that same weeping. She knew she must look a mess. “Yes, please. Water would be wonderful.” He went outside her privacy curtain and came back with a small cup of water from the fountain. Leia drank it gratefully, although a little suspicious. Something was up with these two. “So,” Jacen glanced at his brother and then back at Leia, “Uncle Luke told us about his talk with you.” Leia emptied her cup of its last vestiges of liquid, buying time. She had not wanted her sons to know of the horrible thing that had befallen her. She didn’t know why, but it felt like a private shame she should bear alone. Her cheeks flushed with humiliation, her jaw set tightly. Would they berate her now? She had to be prepared for it. “Did he now?” Leia responded hoarsely. She dodged their pointed stares. Anakin’s hands cupped one of hers. Her whole body tensed. “Mom, it’s okay. We’re not angry at you, we could never be angry at you for this. When you told us about the baby I was just…taken off guard, that’s all. But this isn’t your fault, and Jace and I know that.” There was a pause. “Mom, look at me, please.” Hesitantly, Leia turned to face her baby, who was no longer a baby. He was well on his way to manhood, and what a fine man he would make. “I love you. You’re my Mom, and nothing can ever change that.” Her breath hitched; she could scarcely believe her ears. Thin fingers gripped his so tight her fingernails left marks. He was giving her an opening, a chance to make it right. Force knew she was going to take it. “I didn’t mean to. I promise you, this was all forced on me.” “We know, Mom,” Jacen interjected softly. His gaze was soft, but there was anger underneath it Leia recognized all too well. Cale Wilos had made more than one enemy when he had taken advantage of Leia Solo. Tentatively, she felt a wisp of the Force flow from him and touch her, comfort her, like a spiritual embrace. Leia pulled away from him, afraid to let him feel the seed of darkness planted in her heart. They knew too much about her ordeals with the Baci already. “Jacen, I’m not…I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve given in to passions no Jedi ever should. The Force is no longer a safe tool for me to use.” He looked disappointed, but sympathetic. His presence deliberately withdrew from her. “I would be afraid of the dark side right now, too, if I were you. But don’t give up completely. Uncle Luke can help you work your way through this.” “I hope so,” she whispered, then glanced down at her hands intertwined with Anakin’s. “Boys, I want you to know that during all this time I never forgot you or stopped loving you. I fought to get back to you, and prayed you could forgive me when I did.” She met their gaze steadily then, and let her hope shine through her eyes. Maybe, just maybe she could keep them after all. And then Jacen said what she had been waiting, longing to hear. “We forgive you, Mom.” Fresh tears glistened on her cheeks. For the first time since her rescue, Leia truly felt like herself. This is who she was, above all the titles and laurels: a mother. “Thank you. Thank you.” She wiped her face quietly, then asked, “And your sister? And Han? Where are they?” The brothers shared a secretive look. Finally Anakin said, “Dad just needs some time to work this out on his own. He’ll come around.” “And Jaina?” Jacen heaved a great sigh. “Jaina still loves you, too. She just doesn’t know how to face you yet. We were all pretty ashamed at our behavior towards you earlier. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.” Leia nodded, encouraged. She could wait, if that’s what it took. “Now we just need for you to get better,” Anakin told her with a wink. “The sooner you’re up and at it again, the sooner this can all be worked out.” “Which is why we’re here in the first place, actually,” Jacen agreed. He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and laid it on the sheets between them. “I was hoping you would let me try a healing technique on you. I know that I can’t fix everything going on inside you right now, but maybe I can repair all the physical damage you’ve suffered.” “You mean like a healing trance?” “No. Just let me try something,” he sounded confident in his ability, but the vagueness of his request scared her. “I don’t know, Jacen.” Letting him in while she was in such internal disarray didn’t seem wise. “Please? It can’t hurt anything.” The gentle honesty in his eyes won her over. She would have done anything he asked of her right then if would mend the rift she had created, even a little bit. “All right.” “Close your eyes, please.” She did as asked. His smooth fingers grazed her temples, and waves of healing energy flowed from his touch. It was a powerful sensation, like jumping into a cold pool. The sudden all around feeling of wellness sent shivers down her spine. It started at her head and moved down her body to the tips of her toes, washing away sickness and malnourishment. The intensity of the Force energy replenished her starving cells, cleansing her blood. A cool rush made her a little heady, and she had to take a deep and shuddering breath to keep from being carried off by it. “Oh, wow,” she struggled for air as he pulled away. It seemed like an eternity since she had felt the Force like that, clean and untainted by her own maliciousness. And besides that, her whole body felt new and energized, really alive. Her eyes opened to take in her son, who was still leaning over her, examining her critically. “Do you feel anything? Any better?” he asked. “Better?” she chuckled. The sound was so foreign coming from her own mouth, and took her off guard. How long had it been since she had laughed? “Jacen, ‘better’ is as drastic an understatement as I can imagine. What did you do?” He smiled at her mischievously. “A discussion for a later time. So. Do you feel well enough to get out of here?” Leia took a long drought of sterilized hospital air, and then nodded. This was a new and frighteningly favorable turn of events, and she was determined to overcome the consuming fear and anger of the dark side. The best way to do that would be to find a sense of normalcy again, surround herself with family. With a grunt she swung her feet out of the bed and sat on the edge. “If you’ll have me.” “If they won’t, I certainly will.” All three Solos turned in unison to face the new speaker. An old woman stood just inside the privacy curtain, her face sallow and kind, and strikingly familiar. Leia imagined it was almost like looking in a mirror twenty years from then. Anakin leaped to his feet at the sight of her, almost panicked. “Pad—” he cut himself off, glanced at Leia, and began again. “What are you doing here?” The woman’s eyes remained glued to Leia. “I am here to see your mother, Anakin.” Leia herself was riveted in the moment, her mind snagged on something she couldn’t quite decipher. It was like trying to think of a word on the tip of her tongue; she just couldn’t get it out. Jacen and Anakin exchanged alarmed stares. “But,” Anakin sputtered, “I thought—” “You thought wrong,” she corrected stiffly. Her gaze had not left Leia’s face. And suddenly she had it! It was like waking from a deep slumber, slow and difficult, but the realization hit her full in the face. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She was dumbfounded. How could this be? It was impossible, but there she stood. It was no dream. At last she managed to fumble over the word, “Mother?” Her mother, the woman she had never before lay eyes on, took a hesitant step forward. Her brown eyes—Leia’s eyes—shone bright and moist. “Yes, my darling. Oh, my Leia. Look at you, you’re so beautiful.” Leia stared at her, mouth agape. “This can’t be. You, you’re dead!” The other woman shook her head sadly. “No dear, I’m not, as you can well see.” Jacen reached out and laid a hand on Leia’s shoulder. “It’s really her, Mom. It’s your mother. Her name is Padmé. Jaina found her on Nirauan.” “On where?” Leia blinked dumbly at him, confused. “Nevermind. We’ll tell you about it later.” “Yes,” Padmé agreed, taking another short step closer to Leia’s bed. “All that can wait.” “Where have you been? Why are you here now? Emperor’s Black Bones—does Luke know?” Leia’s mind spun out of control, jumping in too many directions at once. It was so much to comprehend. She didn’t know how to act. Part of her felt like a little girl and wanted nothing more than to run into the arms of this woman who was no stranger. Another part held her back, couldn’t believe what she knew—what she sensed—was true. “Yes, he does,” Padmé nodded, her lower lip trembling with emotion. “And I have been waiting, stranded, in the far reaches of this galaxy for forty years waiting to hold my baby girl in my arms. My Leia—gods, if you only knew how much I love you; how I have loved you all this time; how I have lived for nothing but you and Luke since the day Obi-Wan took you from me.” Leia didn’t understand, and yet it made sense. It made utter and complete, perfect sense. With a shout of delight she stood and threw her arms around her mother, and they cried on each others’ shoulder as if neither of them had ever cried before.
* * * Jagged Fel stepped inside his uncle’s offices on the Pillory with an air of confidence he didn’t necessarily feel. The place was nicely furnished, but not overly so. Wedge gave no credence to opulence. Shawnkyr Nuruodo followed him inside, her tall blue form towering over both him and Uncle Wedge. The former rebel, turned New Republic general, turned rebel, greeted Jag with a hug and Shawnkyr with a firm handshake. “I’m glad you both could make it,” he smiled. “Come, sit.” He led them into his personal office, and each took a seat opposite him and the big wroshyr wood desk. “Can I get either of you anything, before we begin?” “I am well, thank you,” Shawnkyr politely declined. “No, thank you,” Jag agreed. The fact that Shawnkyr had been specifically invited to this visit told Jag that his uncle meant business, and so he would treat it as such until proven otherwise. His relationship with Wedge Antilles was an awkward one to begin with, besides. He was never sure how to behave with someone who was family, yet essentially a stranger. So in some ways, Jag was more at ease in this formal environment. “General Antilles, why don’t we cut straight to the power cable. Ambassador Nuruodo’s time is very limited.” Wedge inclined his head in agreement. He was a man who could appreciate a straightforward approach to a problem. In that way at least, they were kin. “I am here to finally broach the uncomfortable subject of the CEDF’s new weapon. These ‘shield strippers’. As I am sure your Chiss tacticians have already deduced, we cannot win this war only with what resources we have now. So, I would like to propose that we purchase a cache of these from the Ascendancy.” “Who is this ‘we’ you speak of, General?” Shawnkyr asked, her red eyes cunning. “Does this rabble even have a name?” The wan smile remained pasted on Wedge’s amiable face. “The Borsk Fey’lya led news media is calling us ‘The Mutineers’. That is of course only a temporary name.” “Of course,” she agreed. “I can tell you up front, General, that the CEDF will not sell these armaments to you. But we can arrange to have the plans shipped here, and new ones engineered for the Chiss fleet now under your command.” “What kind of effect would this have? If only a few ships carried the weaponry?” Wedge questioned. “A positive one, to be certain,” Shawnkyr told him. “Their range is quite impressive. I would dare say our complement of Chiss ships would be able to handle the entire Baci fleet.” This time, Wedge’s smile was genuine. “Wonderful. How soon can you have it done?” “That is a question for Colonel Fel,” she eyed Jag closely. “He was on the original development team at Csilla.” “The Four Families will not allow already constructed models to be shipped here,” Jag agreed with his counterpart. “But I could possibly have a set manufactured for this fleet inside six months…perhaps. If we push it.” Antilles looked discouraged. “That is quite a span of time where we’ll be fighting unequipped. Is there no way to have it done sooner?” Jag shook his head sadly. “I am sorry, no. I don’t think there is. In fact, I doubt the Four Families will even supply us with these plans. I’ll have to construct them from my own personal notes, and memory.” His uncle let out a wearied sigh. “Begin immediately, then. We’ll find you whatever resources you need.” Jag waited a few heartbeats to be dismissed, then realized that order was probably not forthcoming. These Republic types really had no sense of proper military procedure. He stood cautiously, and saluted. “Yes, General. Will there be anything else?” “No,” Wedge waved him off. Jag turned to leave, Shawnkyr close behind, when Wedge remembered one more thing. “Oh wait, I forgot. Jag, Iella wanted me to ask you to stop by for dinner tomorrow night. Have a little family time.” There it was again, that hazy gray line between work and his personal life that just kept getting fuzzier. Soon he wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference. “All right,” he replied uneasily. “What time?” “1900 hours will be fine,” Wedge smiled. “I’ll see you then.”
* * * “Well, that was interesting,” Shawnkyr commented later, when they were back in the territory of the ship reserved for the Chiss. They walked at a casual pace, wandering the halls to nowhere in particular. They had been allotted no conference room of their own, and personal quarters were out of the question. So this is how they conducted most of their serious debates: roaming the corridors. “Indeed,” Jag agreed, his jaw clenching and unclenching habitually. “I wish there was some way to convince the CEDF to send us the prototypes. The interlude without them might cost us the war.” His childhood friend was decidedly less pessimistic. “They will send more ships, if they must. It will be enough to keep us afloat until we have created our own. The Four Families cannot afford to chance sending something so precious across this distance, however remote the chance of a disaster befalling it would be. But just imagine if these rebels were to take the prototypes, and we were left with nothing until more could be constructed. A calamite of that nature cannot be risked. We are keeping our eye on the larger prize, after all.” Her red eyed glance in his direction was pointed. “I hope you have not forgotten it, Jagged.” No, he had not forgotten. How could he? The plan of his CEDF superiors haunted his sleep, even more so because he had helped to formulate it. The Chiss would help defeat the Baci, just as he had promised. During that time, he and the other officers in close contact with the rebels would gather any sensitive information possible. When the war ended, the galaxy would be in shambles from the splitting of their own numbers. The Ascendancy would kindly help put the pieces back together, and soon the realm that had been so ignorant of their very presence would be ruled by them. The Chiss would hold sway even into the Core of the galaxy. All that would be perfect, if not for one small blunder on Jag’s part. And that blunder went by the name of Jaina Solo. He didn’t know how or when, but at some point during all this mess he had lost sight of the things he once counted most important. It all faded into distant memories with one smile from her perfect lips, and Jag couldn’t resist himself. She had even given him an out, and, fair-haired fool that he was, Jag had protested. The thought of watching her get up and leave his quarters knowing that he would never hold her, kiss her again, had dwarfed everything else. There could only be one explanation for his behavior. He was insane. That, or he was falling in love. Perhaps they were one and the same. So now there was a very painful dilemma without any promise of a suitable outcome. He could tell Jaina of the Ascendancy’s main intentions, or he could not. The consequences of each were more than obvious. Until he could come to a decision, Jag had the feeling things were only going to get more complicated. The best thing to do would be to cut and run, as far as Jaina went, now, while he had the chance. Yet he doubted his own determination to carry through, even if their relationship was doomed to failure. That was one certainty. It would come to an end. “No,” he muttered at last. “I have not forgotten.” Her tight smile seemed satisfied. “Good. Very good.”
* * * The metal cylinder was cool and smooth to the touch, and Cale Wilos felt more powerful just holding the thing. The weapon of a Jedi would now be wielded by their enemies. Delicious. His thumb pressed the button on his new lightsaber hilt, and an indigo blade shot from his hand. Cale’s chuckle was gratified. “You’ve done well, Zeya. I am pleased.” She circled him like a shark around its next meal, ebony eyes like calculating serpents. A weapon identical to his dangled from her hip. “I am glad you approve, Premier.” He swung the sword experimentally. It thrummed against the light air resistance, but Cale was surprised at the weightlessness of it. All the mass was in the hilt. It would take a while to get used to, that was inevitable. “When would you like to schedule our first practice session?” “How about tomorrow?” her astute gaze had left him, and was now focused on the planet beneath the Dintellion’s orbit. “I’m supposed to visit Bilbringi’s surface later today. There is a bit of an uprising I need to silence.” Cale’s attention was still fixed on his new toy as he spoke. “Why haven’t they all been killed, like on the other planets?” “Because,” her tone was careful not to be patronizing, “we need the natives to help with the shipyards. That is why we wanted this place, you remember. We needed a repair station for our fleet.” “Oh, yes,” Cale replied, distracted. Finally he thumbed the lightsaber off, and the blade once again disappeared into the hilt. “Very well then. Just take care of it soon.” “Of course, Premier,” she promised, giving him a deep bow. “Is there anything else?” He thought a moment, but still came up short. “No Zeya, there isn’t. You’ve done well.” Another brief bow, and she was gone.
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