c8

The Victory

Hermione's shot went wide of the target as 'it' happened again. A crash reverberated through the bulkhead and screams of pleasure could be heard from down the halls. The girl cringed as she heard the crass tones of Ventress, along with Harry's grunts.

"Yes Master! Harder! Hard-!" Her voice cut off with a choked gasp, and her wheezes for breath came instead, along with sharp smacking sounds.

"You like that? Huh?"

"Yes!" The Dathomiri woman wheezed in clear tones of pain and pleasure.

Rapidly, Hermione cast a silencing charm on the door to the cargo bay, wondering why she hadn't thought to do so before. She couldn't help but shudder as she turned back to her makeshift target range and the Mandalorian woman that was instructing her. The woman had refused to remove her helmet during the training, as she didn't want to 'accidentally' get shot in the face before understanding her student's abilities.

Hermione raised her blaster rifle to her shoulder once more and fired off five more shots, hitting the center of the target with every squeeze of the trigger. She had found target practice with her wand correlated quite well to this weapon, and the more she used it the more she had to wonder how Obi Wan could think this beauty 'uncivilized'. Everything about it was streamlined, beautiful, and built to serve a single purpose. If her side of the blood wars had wielded weapons such as these then perhaps they wouldn't have lost. Her thoughts were interrupted as her instructor came forward and took the weapon from her hands.

"You are distracted." Bo-Katan stated. "Why?"

The witch raised her brows with exasperation, then pointed back toward the door. "Are you telling me those noises aren't driving you crazy? It sounds like Harry is torturing Ventress!"

That expressionless helmet turned slightly in confusion. "Why would that bother me? I taught him how to do that after all."

"You taught him to hurt women!"

"Hurt? What? Oh…" Bo nodded her understanding. "You don't have a lot of sexual experience do you?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything." The brunette huffed.

"Everything." Bo took her impromptu student by the arm and led her to sit beside her on a nearby couch, before removing her helmet to look her in the eyes. "You see, the Mandalore lives for freedom in all things. That includes freedom of self expression. He understands that some women have kinks, and he likes to give each of his partners what they desire in the bedroom, as he sees those kinks as an expression of themselves. For instance, I like to dominate him. Shaak Ti really enjoys slow and sensual sex, along with threesomes. Ventress however, very much enjoys public sex and being rough in the bedroom. Harry is a very giving lover, and as such he is giving Ventress what she desires. Not torturing her, as you so caustically put it."

"O-Oh." Hermione's face was beat red by that point. "Sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Those sounds, the way Harry is now, how I fit into everything… it's all just so confusing."

"It's understandable. But don't worry. As I said before, Harry believes in freedom. He would never force you to do anything you do not want to do. He only insisted you learn the blaster because he wants you to be able to defend yourself if your wand is lost or destroyed."

The former bookworm nodded as her gaze returned to the range. "I'm surprised he didn't offer to teach me how to use a lightsaber, or wield the force."

Bo shook her head at those words. "I asked him about that when he ordered me to train you. His response was that it would take years to get you proficiently trained to wield a lightsaber without the danger of cutting off your own limbs. He had certain benefits that cannot be transferred. As for the force, he said you were a person of reason and rationality, and to use the dark side was to be constantly at the whims of your passions. He worried what such a thing would do to you."

"That was probably wise." Hermione shuddered, but still got back to her feet. "What's next?"

Bo re-donned her helmet and bade her follow to the center of the room. Then she gave her a non-functioning blaster, and led her through a series of movements with the barrel. They involved rapid aim corrections, back steps, rolls, and strikes with the retractable vibro blade bayonet.

"Ah, Bo? What am I doing exactly?"

"This is a martial art specific to close quarters arms fighting. I've seen many a soldier freeze up if their enemy draws too close to them to use ranged attacks. This will not be the case with you. It will take us another three weeks to arrive at the staging area, and by the time we do I'll have these movements burned into your muscle memory. As long as you have a blaster in your hands nobody will be able to touch you. Weather they be five hundred yards away or less than a foot. Now repeat the moves I just showed you."

Mandalore Spaceport

Obi-Wan took a deep breath before hopping out of his starfighter. The Order had received a bulk shipment of these as their personal craft, and he had to admit they were impressive. Officially, he was supposed to be heading off to meet up with his personal cruiser. Orders had been received, and the senate had pretty much begged the Jedi to go out into the war as generals. Kenobi had been against it but what could he do? He was outvoted. Instead of going directly there however, he had instead taken a detour. Rache's words had continued bouncing in his head since he'd left, and now he just needed to know for sure.

He had intended to make his way through customs, take an air taxi to the Ducal Palace, and then hope against hope that Satine would see him. That however went out the window the moment he tried to go through the arrival terminal. His credentials were scanned and a moment later twin security guards took his arms and carried him into a nearby room. He would have done something about it, but the woman waiting for him inside took his breath away. As the guards left them alone all he could do was stare.

Satine Kryze was just as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was so gold it nearly glowed, her skin appeared flawless and smooth, and her eyes… oh those gorgeous blue eyes drew him in like a whirlpool.

She stood silently across from him for several moments before breaking it herself. As she began to wring her hands, Satine said, "We flagged your ship the moment you entered our hyperspace lanes. I figured it would be easier if I just met you here, instead of letting you traipse all over my planet looking for me."

When Kenobi still didn't respond she grew nervous and started rambling, "I mean, I could have been anywhere you know. With Death Watch gone, I can finally travel freely again, and I have events all the over the place, and-"

Her words were cut off as the wide-eyed Jedi walked up to her and cupped her face with a gentle hand. "You're just as beautiful as the day I lost you."

It was such a simple gesture. It shouldn't have elicited such a strong reaction. But it did. Tears started to build at the corners of Satine's eyes, and try as she might she could not stop their fall. "You didn't 'lose' me, Obi." She whispered. "You left."

"You were a ruler, Satine. You had goals and responsibilities that had your need and attention. I thought… that if you wanted me to stay, you would have asked it of me."

The duchess slowly raised her own hand and placed it over the one on her cheek, "How could I have done that? You were a Jedi. You'd given your life to the Order. I loved you, Obi, but I could not do that to you then. I couldn't ask you to choose me over them."

"You could do it now."

Satine's jaw fell open beneath his warm palm. "What?"

"Ask me now. I love you Satine, I always have. Say the words, and I'll leave the Order. If you would still have me of course."

The tears fell even harder at those words. "After all this time?"

"Always." Obi Wan leaned in slowly, and the duchess did not pull away.

As their lips touched, all the years between them seemed to slip away, and all each of them could see was the young couple they'd once been. For the next hour the world that existed outside of them both disappeared and all that existed was each other.

One Hour Later

"Wow." Kenobi laughed as he ran his fingers through Satine's hair as she rested on his chest. The table they'd used as a makeshift bed wasn't exactly comfortable, but the Jedi would die before he'd complain. With Satine in his arms he'd suffer any discomfort required. "You're amazing."

"Hmhmhm." The duchess gave a dainty chuckle and said, "Thank you. You weren't so bad yourself." She snuggled deeper into him and her levity became subdued. "I can't ask you to stay, Obi."

He jolted, and his hand froze. "What? But we just-"

"Oh, I still want to be with you. You finally came back to me and I have no intention of letting you leave me again."

"Then why?"

"Because you are a man of duty, Obi, and your home is at war. If I asked you to stay now then you would. But you'd spend every moment thinking about the other Jedi you weren't able to watch out for in this conflict."

Kenobi nodded at that. "You still know me so well. So what are you suggesting?"

"You remain in the Order, at least until this war is finished. Fight for the people and defend those you can. When you have time, come to me. My arms will be open. Finally, when peace is restored, hang up your lightsaber, leave the Order for good, and make your home here."

Kenobi leaned down and breathed in the fruity scent of her hair. "I love you, Satine."

"And I love you, Obi." She ran a gentle hand over his face and commented, "I'm still not sure about the beard though."

"Hm? Why not?"

She smirked, "It hides too much of your handsome face."

For one blessed moment, all was right with the galaxy. But it couldn't last forever. Not when there was a question burning in the Jedi's mind. "Satine," He said, "I met up with Darth Rache a little while ago, and he mentioned a 'nephew' of yours. One with dirty blond hair." He felt her stiffen in his arms, and even without an answer he would have known the truth.

"I… I didn't know how to tell you. Not in a way that wouldn't have influenced you. You deserved to make your choices without that weight on your shoulders."

"Does he know? About me?"

Satine sighed, but refused to move away from his warmth. "He doesn't even know about me, Obi. Not really. I call him my nephew, but as far as he knows, his mother was one of my closest friends. Even after you left, my rule wasn't entirely secure. It seemed like the best way to protect him was to create a disconnect between us."

"That doesn't have to be the case now, though." Kenobi reasoned. Death Watch is gone. The hostile elements of your government and military have left. Maybe its time for the truth to come out."

"Perhaps…"

"Satine, I… would really like to meet my son."

The blond haired woman tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. "Then let's get dressed, and we can go talk to him.

Tattooine

"Now, do it just like I showed you, Anakin." Revan's disembodied voice said from beside the young man on the dune. "Focus on the emotions of your people, and use them to power your storm."

The words came loud and clear to the blond youth staring at the palace of Jabba the Hutt. He was closer than many in his army would have liked to the target, but for this attack to work, he needed to be within a certain range.

For the last several weeks he'd been hitting every town and slave post he could find. Each time cutting off supply and stock until the slave trade had nearly ground to a halt. Sure, there were many people already in captivity, but no more were being sold without his raiders and outriders intervening. He had the numbers to make sure that happened now, as his army and camp followers had risen into the thousands.

The effectiveness of his actions, and his martial abilities, had taught Anakin a very important lesson about his planet's Huttese overlords. They were not generals nor did they possess minds capable of creating military actions. They were just bullies, with gangsters and enforcers under their payroll. They knew nothing of full-scale combat or how to deal with a larger enemy force. Instead they used fear and intimidation to get their desired results. The problem they faced, and that had leveled their earnings into the sand, was that Anakin had shown the slaves of this planet that they did not have to be afraid any longer.

It was that lesson that had allowed him to walk almost right up to Jabba's home. It was time to finally end the monster. After taking a deep breath, the former padawan focused on the palace and raised his hands. As the force began to build up around him, he followed his new teacher's direction and let his consciousness flow to the army that followed him. In their minds he found rage and hatred, and he used it push the wind and sand around him into a massive, swirling, vortex, reaching high into the sky. The effort required to harness this much power nearly ripped him apart, so he skimmed further amongst his followers and found the sense of hope and belief they held for him and his dream of a free Tattooine. This stability helped him to temper the tempest before him long enough to drive it forward. With a single push it set off, and with every meter the storm travelled it grew by leaps and bounds until a full fledged sandstorm engulfed the palace in the distance.

For twenty minutes Anakin maintained the maelstrom, and the entire time was spent in the sweaty, exhausting, struggle of evening out the harsher emotions he was channeling with the hopeful. Finally, he reached his breaking point and released his hold on the force, letting the power bleed out of him back into the sand below.

What he saw when he looked on his results nearly caused him to fall over in shock. Revan had explained what such an expression of power could bring about, but to see an entire stone palace leveled to its foundations from something he did was truly humbling. Why hadn't the Jedi told him this was possible in his lessons?

Behind him, his soldiers cheered and began firing their rifles into the air. In the wake of the death of their greatest abuser, the people thought their fight was over. It hurt him to crush that enthusiasm.

It took several minutes of shouting and light emotional manipulation via the force to quiet everyone down, but he managed it. Then he grabbed a voice amplifier and addressed everyone at once.

"My people. Today a great victory has been won. Jabba the Hutt is dead. Brought low by the hatred of those he himself oppressed. Now, it is our time to rule. Those that were chained shall guide our future!" His people cheered at those words, and several minutes later he was able to continue. "This fight does not end with Jabba however. Our planet is a central hub for slavers, spice runners, and smugglers. As a resource it is too valuable for them all to give up on. We need to prepare for when they try to seize power back from us."

From amongst his followers, a single voice called out, "How are we going to do that?"

Anakin smiled at the clear opening. "Jabba controlled all space traffic on this planet, and I know for a fact he collected several battleships in his personal hangers for his use. There isn't enough time to train you all to be pilots, and defending the entire planet's airspace could very well take more manpower than we currently have. So instead, we will make our cities and farmsteads unapproachable from the air. We'll strip those battlecruisers of their heavy guns and mount them on buildings, behind barricades, and in camouflaged ditches. We'll secure our borders with armed walls and droids. We will make the cost of trying to take back this planet so high, that any invader will shit their pants at the thought of their lost credits. What say you to that?!"

"Skywalker!"

"Skywalker!"

"Skywalker!"

As his people chanted his name, a single tear fell down Anakin's face. These people had followed him. They'd fought for him and died in his name. Now, after they'd achieved temporary freedom, they still believed in his words and plans. He had thought the day he was expelled from the Jedi Order was the worst of his life, but how could it truly be so bad if it had led him here?

"You have done well, apprentice." Revan's ghostly voice spoke in his ear. "Freedom has been achieved. Now it must be defended."

The Victory

Harry's vessel, after weeks of travel and random hyperspace jumps to avoid Zygerrian patrol sweeps, was lined up with the rest of his fleet; prepared to lay waste to this planet of subjection and dishonor. As he knelt in battle meditation, directing his interstellar navy to the best possible starting positions, he could feel it. Across the vast distance to the planet's surface, the wails and pain of the subjugated were reaching his ears and squeezing his heart.

Long ago he had been just like these unfortunate souls. Trapped in a small cell, beaten, starved, and forced to work for those that by all rights should have been his inferiors. Yes, he understood these people's pain; and now he let it fill him, fuel him, and power the mental domination of the battlefield he was creating in his mind.

In the course of mere seconds he watched thousands of possible battles take place in the skies. He watched comrade and enemy felled alike, until finally he settled on the one outcome out of tens of thousands where every single one of his generals, pilots, and officers made it to the planet alive. The foot soldiers, as heartless as it sounded, could be replaced with volunteers from the planet. Harry had no doubt there would be many. However, The decades of experience those three groups represented were inherently necessary to keeping his army well trained and disciplined. He knew that losses were to be expected, but this way he could keep the vast potential of his army at its pinnacle once the fighting began in earnest.

With a slow exhale of breath, the young Sith came out of his trance, and slowly sent his flight plans to the pilots with his wrist communicator before opening his eyes. Out of the viewport of his cabin, he could see nothing but the vast emptiness of space, and he couldn't help but smile. Many would be disheartened, to find themselves so far from home. They'd feel small and insignificant before the expanse laid before them, but not him. All Harry felt was peace. All that space, all the openness and mystery for him to explore. The vast cosmos felt more like home to him than Hogwarts ever had.

The sounds of fresh footfalls broke him from his revery as his women entered the room and knelt around him. Assaj dropped to sit on both knees as she leaned against his left shoulder. Bo simply sat down with her helmet removed and leaned on his right. Hermione walked around to sit in front of him, and kissed him square on the mouth.

Harry smiled into her lips and asked, "Does this mean you want to be with me after all? I know the 'multiple women' thing was troubling you."

The brunette blushed at his words, but nodded nonetheless. "We're about to go into battle, Harry. I don't want to do that without letting you know what you mean to me. I love you. I have since the night you saved me from a rampaging troll. Yes, you're different now, but so am I, and I plan to spend the rest of my life getting to know who you've become if you'll let me."

Harry kissed her again and asked, "What about the others?"

"It's definitely an adjustment. But as long as you love us equally, I can be okay with it."

"I promise." He intoned before pulling her forward to lean against his chest. There, surrounded by his women, Harry allowed himself a few brief moments of peace before he stood up and moved down the hallways to the bridge.

"The others are strapped into crash couches in the cargo bay. Is it time, master?" Ventress asked as she approached him.

"Yes." He nodded. "Will you stay at my side for this, Asajj? Will you guard my back as I will yours?"

She took his arm in her own fiercely and stared up into his face, "Always."

He reached to her and cupped her face in his hand. "Thank you, my love." And then he activated the wide range communicator. By doing so he knew that both his army, and the people of Zygerria would hear his words, but that was all part of the plan. He wanted to address his followers as a way to kick off the assault, and he wanted the oppressed on the planet below to know that someone had come to fight for them. Besides, they'd gotten this far without being detected, and it was too late for the Zygerrians to launch their fighters against a planetary assault.

"My noble Mandalorians, warriors all, lend me your ears. This is your Mandalore. You see those specks on the planet below representing military bases, spacecraft, and planetary defense brigades? I pity them. I pity them because they falsely believe themselves strong, when they have never known the terror of Mandalorian shock combat. They've never had to experience the fury of our blasters, blades, and beskar. Those sorry fuckers have my pity because they have no idea what manner of shitstorm is about to rain down upon them."

"We do not go to the surface to conquer, we go to liberate. Below us are slavers, monsters, and the absolute worst scum of this universe. Do not give quarter to those you find. Do not even offer it. For they would not do the same for you. They would enslave you, collar you, and divest you of your armor and honor. Tell me, is that something any true warrior would stand for?"

The speakers blared and fuzzed out temporarily with the force of the response he received. The Sith took a moment to let the rage of his army settle before continuing. "While they were subjugating others for profit, you were training. While they were living easily off the merits of others, you were learning to break armies twice your size. While they were living lives of luxury, you were learning to end your enemies with extreme prejudice. Who are you!"

"Mandalorians!" The call came through.

"Why are were here!" He called.

"To liberate!"

"And who must die for this?"

"The Zygerrian slavers!" As the calls and cheers continued to rain through the speakers, Harry strapped himself into his seat and switched the ship controls from automatic over to manual. "Follow me then!"

With the concentrated roar of his prepped engines, the Victory shot down toward the planet's surface. At once the craft was met with anti-air turret fire, but several of the lighter combat craft, moved into position by way of his battle meditation, reduced the shells to atoms before they could even pose a threat.

Down they fell, slowing ever so slightly as the Victory and fleet broke atmosphere, but still they were damn near free-falling into the capital city. As the royal palace appeared as a steadily growing dot in the distance, Asajj turned wide eyes to the Sith and, through the pressure of falling at so many G's, managed to rasp, "Master, why are we just falling?" When she received no immediate answer she tried again. "Master?… Master?… Harry!"

At her exclamation, the man in question flipped several switches to prep his repulsorlifts and said, "The slaves on this planet all have sub-dermal explosives implanted in their necks. Our hackers have assured me that the master kill-switch is located in a hidden drawer on the royal throne."

He reached out with his senses and confirmed that his squadron of pilots were ready for the next stage. His ground troops had already landed at several key targets, and though they'd taken some losses, it was far less than should have occurred. He thanked the force, and Zannah, for the effectiveness of his battle meditation as he hovered his finger over the activation switch.

"While the rest of the army keeps the defenders busy, we're taking the palace. It's imperative that we seize the throne room before the queen can execute forty percent of her population."

"Why would she do that?"

"To keep us from getting them. These people are only property to them after all. Now hold on to something!" In a flash he hit the activation and his ship, along with his coterie of followers, reversed trajectory and transferred their downward motion into a forward glide. Straight at the palace!

Ventress had just enough time to brace herself and clamp her hand onto Harry's before their ship smashed straight through the wall of the northern tower. The Victory bounced, skidded, and scraped its way across the vast expanse of decadence for several terrifying moments before finally grinding to a halt. The resounding booms echoing in the floor told them that the other ships had copied his maneuver with the other towers.

"Ugh." Harry grumbled as he unclipped his safety harness and stood up. "Somehow I thought the landing would be softer than that."

"You didn't land, you crashed." Ventress grumbled as she did the same.

"Regardless," the Sith unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and held it ready, "We still made it to the goal. Now go get the others out and be prepared to run. If the queen is smart she's already on her way to the throne room." His apprentice nodded and they took off running.

Explosions rocked the stone foundations of the palace as the group of four ran from corridor to corridor. The light, green tint from the sun, glared in through the broken glass of the windows at strange angles, illuminating the defensive forces just enough for Harry and Ventress to mow through them with their blades. Those they missed were quickly dispatched by Bo and Hermione as a result of their thermal scopes. The former bookworm turned out to be especially deadly as she tended to transfigure the corpses of the men she killed into wild animals that attacked their fellows.

On and on they went, never stopping, and constantly keeping their momentum going. As any student of war knew, a surprise attack was only good as long as you advanced faster than your opponents could adjust and set up a defense.

Finally, after twenty minutes of running they reached the doors to the audience chamber. There was just one problem. The Mandalorian's were occupied on different floors, and a cadre of defenders were making their way toward them.

Harry looked to Bo, "Can you hold them here?"

She nodded her helmed head, and gestured to Hermione, "With her help, I can give you all the time you need."

"Excellent. Come, apprentice." His voice was dark with promised pain as he pushed open the great doors long enough to walk through. He could sense that queen Miraj Scintel was already inside, and she was sitting on her throne.

"Well, whatever do we have here?" The catlike woman was sitting regally with her back straight, a metal box held clamped in her hand. She stared at the lit lightsabers before her, and though she tried to remain the picture of a serene ruler, Harry could sense her spike of fear. "A pair of Sith come to take my crown?"

"A pair of Sith here to murder a slaving piece of filth." Harry growled as he began to step forward. "I'd offer to let you go if you publicly apologized to every man, woman, and child you've had a hand in brutalizing, but I truly cannot fathom any reality where I'd be able to sleep at night knowing you still walked the physical plane."

At the sight of his continued advancement, Miraj raised the metal box she held to his view. "Stop! This is a deadman's switch, Sith. If my finger comes off of it every slave on my world will die. Your little mission will grind to a halt if that happens, I imagine." Contrary to her words, the bearded man kept stalking toward her. The queen was getting nervous now. How could her attacker not see that he was trapped? "We will need to make terms before I surrender this box. What will it take you to leave my world?"

Harry had crossed half of the distance between them. "There's nothing you can give me." He kept moving.

Miraj's left eye twitched in annoyance. It was going to destroy her economy to euthanize so much of her stock, but one should never make a threat without being willing to follow through with it. She raised her finger off the switch. Or, she tried to. A terrified glance down showed that her digit hadn't even twitched at her command. It was like something was holding it there against her will. What was going on! Before she had a chance to figure it out, the Sith was standing before her. Because of her species' natural height, she was taller than the man, even sitting down, but the aura of control and malice he radiated made her feel small. The crimson blade he raised over his head made her feel worse. In that moment, Miraj Scintel knew she was about to die, and she started to cry. This was not how a queen was supposed to go out.

Before Harry could end the monster before him however, Zannah flowed into existence at his side.

"Stop, Harry." She said as her spectral face leaned in close to examine the Zyggerian. "This one has a superb body. I want it."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he deactivated his blade. Then he turned, nodded to Ventress, and watched as she willed the still compressed deadman's switch out of Miraj's hand into her own. She'd been holding it down from the moment they entered the room. "Really, Zannah? Of all the bodies in the cosmos you choose a slaver queen?"

"What can I say? I want cat ears." She glared at him then, daring the younger man to say anything about it.

The Sith wasn't about to make that mistake. "Very well. I'll preserve her, and once this battle is over, I'll conduct the ritual." With that, he struck the queen in the face hard enough to send her sprawling out of her throne, and smoothly took her place. Harry smiled then, easily dropping back into his mediation as his commlink to the generals opened. Now that he had control of the Slave's explosives he could begin coordinating the ground offensive himself. With any luck the bulk of the fighting would be done by the evening.

Three Months Later

"I don't understand why we're all here, Master Yoda." Obi Wan grumbled as he, the diminutive green master, Mace Windu, and Shaak Ti made their way down the ramp of their landing craft. The war had been raging in earnest for a while now, and the bearded Jedi would have preferred to be out with his men, working to restore peace. The sooner it was brought about the sooner he could return to Satine after all.

He smiled as he recalled their time together. Being held in her arms was just as calming as he remembered, and learning that he had a son after all these years certainly gave him incentive to stay alive. He wanted to get to know the young man dammit!

"Requested we were." The grandmaster chuckled as he hobbled along. "Free, Zygerria now is, and contact with the republic, it seeks to make. Before generals, we are diplomats and peacekeepers, are we not?"

"Yes, master." Kenobi acknowledged, properly cowed. With all the fighting they'd been doing, all of the military engagements they'd seen in such a short span of time, it was easy to lose track of their true purpose.

They finally reached the ground and were met by a delegation made up of a multitude of races. Each were dressed in loose, comfortable looking, yet fashionable attire. The way they seemed to be forcing themselves not to bow to the newcomers made it clear to them all that these had been former slaves. The twi'lek woman in the lead stepped forward to greet them.

"Many welcomes to you all." She nodded her head to each master assembled. "The free people of Zyggeria are proud to have such honored guests on our soil. If you would please follow us, we'll lead you to the emperor."

Yoda frowned at that statement, though he still hurried to catch up to the woman as she and her entourage started walking away. As he kept pace with the other Jedi behind him he asked, "Free you are, yet an emperor you follow?"

The twi'lek giggled lightly behind her hand before responding, "I know how that must seem. To be fair to the man, he didn't want the position. Myself and the other slaves he freed however, made it clear that we would accept no government that our savior was not at the head of. He capitulated soon enough. Under the condition that no citizen must ever feel scared to approach him with concerns. He does not wish to become a tyrant."

"Who is this man?" Windu inquired.

"Oh, we were instructed not to tell you just yet. He wants it to be a surprise."

Remembering the last conversation he'd had with a certain Sith Lord, Obi Wan couldn't help but say, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

An hour of taxiing through the bustling streets and active repair work later, the group finally made it to the palace. The honor guard of Mandalorians guarding the perimeter confirmed what Kenobi had been thinking earlier, and he mentally prepared himself for the hangover he just knew Rache was going to ensure he had after today.

As they mounted the steps Windu asked him, "Kenobi, you have contacts on Mandalore. Did the Duchess send this army?"

"No. This a force that left the planet rather than live under her peaceful reforms. They're called Death Watch."

"Well that sounds ominous."

"No." Yoda huffed as he hopped lightly to the top of the stairs and entered the elevator. "Filled with righteous purpose they are. Sense it, I can. Belief in their leader and cause they have."

"I bet."

"What was that, Kenobi?"

"Nothing, Mace."

The bearded man leaned back to whisper in Shaak's ear, "If I'm right, then we're about to meet your Sith boytoy."

She beamed and smiled at him gratefully as she began to smooth out her robes. Mace gave the whispering Jedi a strange look but didn't say anything as the lift dinged to signify their arrival in the audience chamber.

When the group saw the bearded man sitting in a throne with four women cuddled at his sides, several things happened at once. Shaak ran across the expanse and jumped into his lap, Obi Wan groaned, Yoda chuckled, and Windu started cursing ecstatically.

"No! Force no!" Windu wound down. "This is some kind of trick." His cursing started up anew when the Sith gestured to the side and summoned a tray carrying glasses, ice, and a hefty bottle of whiskey.

"I am not drinking with you again!" Windu exclaimed anew, only to groan as Yoda smacked him in the shins with his stick and hopped lithely over to the tray to pour himself a glass. The grandmaster took a sip and sighed at how smooth it was.

While all this was happening, Shaak could only coo and snuggle deeper into her man's chest. This was perfect! Harry had grown out his beard and they were sitting in the same grand chair from her vision! If those aspects were coming true then perhaps the others would soon follow. Her thoughts turned to the wriggling bundle she'd held in that dream, and a dopey smile alit on her face. She decided she might need to start thinking up names.