Beyond - Legends Fragile - An Anakin and Tahiri Story Repost Completed

Chapter 10​

​

I Have the Touch​

Anakin was beginning to think that his many hours of debriefing would make his head explode.

He did not want to spend any more time talking about the sick and degrading things he had done to stay alive on Myrkr. He did not want to be reminded of the fear and frustration that had been his only companions as he’d walked for…how many endless thousand kilometers. He didn’t want to describe the disappointment and anger that had nearly crushed him when the first, then the second and third crashed ships he’d found had proved un-salvageable. Didn't want to recount how after nearly starving to death, he’d found hundreds of ration bars on the fourth ship, the one he’d finally escaped Myrkr on, and then had thrown up every bar he’d tried to choke down because his body wasn't capable of processing anything other than the dirt and leaves he’d been living on. And he really didn’t want to discuss being left on the worldship in the first place.

Listening to his wife give him a rundown of his new ‘life’ was threatening to do his head in for a whole host of other reasons.

Tahiri had spent hours, over the course of several days, going over basic domestic issues; how much money they had, where they lived, Will’s schedule, her schedule. Tahiri had transferred all the money in her various bank accounts over to accounts with both of their names on them, so that Anakin could access money if he needed it. He couldn't imagine what he’d need to buy while confined to a hospital room until Tahiri had gently admonished him not to go on the holonet and buy himself an X-wing while she was in one of her seemingly endless meetings. The thought hadn't occurred to him before she’d mentioned it, but he had to admit the idea was appealing as soon as the words were out of her mouth. He’d understood her rationale right away; their money was better off earning interest, and it was more prudent to wait for some military body to declare him flight worthy and hand him one of their X-wings.

He’d wondered where Tahiri even learned to manage a budget, but only for a moment, until he heard Iella’s and Winter’s names again, and found that Tahiri had done very well for them in his absence. She’d squirreled her salary away, writing off anything she could as expenses incurred to perform her job, using Intel and military procurement whenever possible. Diapers and toiletries were a necessity when she was sent on a mission; she always over ordered just in case, and no one ever asked that the unused supplies be given back. Iella and Winter had been very good teachers when it came to investing too; having seen what war could do the galactic economy they’d steered Tahiri toward some lucrative funds.

On top of that, Anakin and Tahiri had spacious living quarters on Wedge’s flagship; the renowned Lusankya. Putting a roof over his family’s head wasn't going to be a problem Anakin would have to face anytime soon. In fact, there wasn't anything Anakin was going to need to provide for his family at any time in the near, or - as far as he could tell - distant, future.

Not even protection.

Bram, head commando, weapons master, diaper bag wrangler—as his father had deadpanned—and all around swell guy, seemed to be everything Tahiri needed in a man. He kept her son safe, her blaster charged, her knives sharpened, and her super secret magic spy hair clip from detonating. He brought her food when she was too busy to remember to eat, messages from Iella when she was too engrossed in work to make it down to the communications office, and even brought her an extra pillow when he’d noticed that the med center staff had only given her a single flat one for the portable bed she slept on in Anakin’s room.

Intellectually, Anakin knew he had nothing to worry about, nothing to be jealous of, but having had Tahiri all to himself since the age of eleven, he wasn't used to, and did not like, sharing. Add to that the fact that he could barely walk, was on a liquid diet, slept more than his infant son, and had missed such seminal life events as the birth of his and Tahiri’s child and the attempted kidnapping of Will on Denon, and he was feeling a little superfluous. He was having a hard time digesting the fact that this guy, Bram, had stepped in to shoulder the duties that Anakin should have had covered when instead he was on a deserted planet eating slugs and toxic leaves, fighting to hold onto his sanity and stay alive.

It wasn’t Bram’s fault that he was handsome, capable, and utterly devoted to Anakin’s wife and baby—in fact, the capable and utterly devoted parts were commendable. Anakin would have been grateful if he could see past his own resentment. It was the handsome part, mixed in with the way Bram looked at Tahiri when he thought no one was looking at him that made Anakin want to place his palms against the other man’s temples and squeeze. Of course, that would require strength Anakin simply didn’t have.

The confusion and annoyance were growing steadily by the day, made worse by the fact that everyone was lying and hiding things from him.

They didn’t seem to be doing it in an effort to be conniving. He was relatively certain that his parents, his siblings, his aunt and uncle, even his wife, were filtering their answers to his questions through a sieve designed to protect him. What was driving him nuts, what was threatening to make him explode in frustration, was the fact that he couldn't figure out what they felt they were protecting him from.

He’d first noticed the deception several days after he’d woken up. It was evening, his family had all gone back to the Falcon and the Shadow, and, as was becoming habit, Tahiri had come in after everyone else had left. As usual, she had curled up next to him on his bed and was giving him a rundown of her evening; she’d done some work, had dinner, fed Will, given him a bath, put him to bed, and then come back to Anakin’s room for the night.

Anakin had asked why, since he’d woken up, she had been dressed like Iella Wessiri. Tahiri had smiled widely and then laughed out loud. Anakin had missed seeing her happy and wanted to see more. He leaned down, gently pressed his lips into that spot on her neck right below her ear, told her that she looked super sexy and that he now understood why all the old Rogues spent so many years chasing Intel girls, and that it was great that she was helping Iella and Winter out with translations and all… but he still wanted to know why she wasn't wearing her Jedi robes.

The farther down her throat he kissed, the more labored her breathing became, the more tightly her fingers twined into his hair, the less concerned he became with pilots and spies and the light side of the Force. He only faintly remembered Tahiri’s arm rising up or the gentle sweep of her hand that coincided with the slow closing of the curtain that hung at the observation window in his room. What he did remember, when he woke up the following morning, was that his wife had never answered him.

A few weeks, hundreds of mentions of Iella and Winter, and dozens of healing and rejuvenation trances later, and Anakin decided he’d had enough. The next person who walked into his room was going to answer his kriffing questions.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Anakin woke with a start, panicked when he didn’t feel Tahiri close by.

His sudden movement seemed to startle Han, asleep in a chair near his bed, who was reaching for his blaster before his eyes were even open. He seemed even more startled when his blaster wasn't where it was supposed to be.

Weapons still weren’t allowed in Anakin’s room.

Relaxing back into his seat, Anakin’s father smiled crookedly at him, “Nearly gave your old man a heart attack.”

“Sorry, forgot where I was for a minute.”

“S’okay. Must be rough, waking up like that.”

Anakin took a deep breath and nodded absently, then settled back against his pillows and leveled his father with a suspicious gaze. “Where is everybody?”

“Your mother is on the Falcon with the twins, Luke and Mara are talking to Traest, and Tahiri’s with Will.”

“It’s just you and me?” At Han’s nod he continued, “Good, no one to interrupt. Would you please tell me what’s going on?”

Anakin recognized the look on his father’s face—he was trying to play dumb, but they both knew that Anakin was the one member of the family Han couldn't pull that crap with.

“Sure. Just tell me exactly what you want to know?”

His dad was stalling, and Anakin felt his chest tighten. What could have happened while he was gone that was so bad? What were they all trying so hard to hide from him?

“Everything.” Anakin watched his father’s face become pinched with tension, felt himself tense. “But,” he continued, “let’s start with the easy stuff; like why Tahiri hasn't been with you while I’ve been gone? Why you don’t seem to have seen Will before I turned up here? Why Tahiri and mom haven’t spoken directly to each other when they've been in the same room? Why Tahiri is an Intel agent and not a Jedi and how the Antilles’ and the Celchus ended up being my son’s hold-parents?”

“Don’t you think you should be asking Tahiri some of these questions?” Han tried.

“I have, but all the answers she gives me leave out any sign of your involvement in her life, leading me to believe that you haven’t been involved in her life, or my son’s. At all.”

Han cleared his throat, took a breath, and then let his shoulders sag forward. “Tahiri is with Intel because I asked Iella and Wedge to look after her for me. Iella took a liking to her, so did Wedge and Tycho, and it turned out that Tahiri was a good fit as an agent. She stayed with them, ended up doing a job with Ackbar and Winter right before Ackbar died, and Winter took a liking to her. They were all with herwith her when Will was born.”

Han swallowed and gave Anakin an uneasy smile. Anakin knew that smile; it was the smile his father wore when he was about to say something that was going to hurt him as much as it was going to hurt the person he was talking to.

“The reason,” Han said in a strong voice, but then dropped his head. When he looked back up, he seemed so sad, and his voice matched that. “The reason that Tahiri wasn't with us, is that she had a hard time, when the mission ended, accepting that you were gone. That was hard for your mother. She blamed your brother and sister for you not coming back; that was also hard for your mother, and for them. And, when you add that to the fact that your mother was less than thrilled to find out that Tahiri was pregnant, and that you two had this crazy idea that you were married…”

“It’s not crazy to us, and we are.”

“That’s pretty much what she said.”

Han stopped again and stared at his son, his expression telling Anakin with absolute certainty that they were standing on the precipice of a before-and-after moment; that for the rest of his life, he’d be able to mark time by what happened in this room, on this day, at this moment, and that nothing anyone did could change it once the words came out of his father’s mouth. He also knew that as painful as this was going to be, he had to hear what those words were.

“Your mother did not treat Tahiri very well. Those first few days, well, weeks really, after you were gone were not her most shining moments, and unfortunately, Tahiri bore the brunt of a lot of that.”

Anakin starred at his father for a long time, trying to process the words the man was saying, struggled to comprehend their meaning. Finally he said, “Are you telling me that my mother took her grief over my ‘death’ out on my pregnant wife?”

Han’s silence spoke volumes.

“Are you kriffing kidding me?”

“Anakin, you have no idea what it was like. And you have no idea what it has done to this family. I arranged things with Iella and Wedge because I trusted them and knew that I could keep a close eye on Tahiri and Will through them. It was the only way I could see to keep my promise to you and still keep the rest of my family, and I’d just lost you—right or wrong as they may have been, I couldn't lose them too.”

Anakin sat horrified; imagining Tahiri alone all that time, suffering from the very thing he’d wanted so desperately to protect her from. She’d been so afraid when he’d left, and so much of what kept him going during those terrifying months on Myrkr was his belief that she and their son were safe and waiting for him with his family. He’d thought his father had understood, thought his father could be trusted to do the one thing he’d ever asked of him. Now, suddenly, he had images of his mother at her coldest, and it wasn't hard for him to imagine. For all her strengths, for all the good qualities that she had, Leia Organa Solo also possessed a tendency to shut down and turn to ice when hurting.

Anakin hardly recognized as his own voice when he asked his father; “What did mom do to her?”

“I’m not sure that a blow by blow account of everyone’s least…”

“What did she do?” Anakin cut in, louder this time.

Han suddenly looked older than Anakin had ever seen him, and part of him, the part that was still a little boy, the part that saw this man as a hero, the part that wanted his approval and still needed to be forgiven for Sernpidal wanted to run back to the other edge of that precipice. But it was too late.

“She thought Tahiri should have waited until after the mission to tell you she was pregnant.”

“She thought it was Tahiri’s fault that I ‘died’?” he asked incredulously.

“I really don’t think this is going to do anyone one any good.”

“I’m not interested in your opinion. Did mom blame Tahiri?”

“Yes, but Tahiri blamed Jaina and Jacen.”

“Jaina and Jacen left me there.” Anakin yelled.

“I know that Anakin, I know that now. But we didn’t know that then, and what were we supposed to do? What was I supposed to do?”

“You weren’t supposed to do this to the woman I love!”

“Anakin.” Tahiri’s voice was soft, and cracked in the middle of his name, and carried so much pain.

Anakin stopped, startled by her sudden appearance, caught his breath, and sank back into his bed, turning to face the view port.

She walked forward, probing, feeling for him in their bond, trying to get him to look at her, acknowledge her, not turn all of the fury he was feeling toward his family in on himself. He ignored her, instead sank down into the inferno of anger building inside him.

He’d failed, yet again, and Tahiri had suffered.

He closed his eyes, tried to block everything out, but he could still hear their voices; heard Tahiri ask Han to please excuse them, she wanted to talk to Anakin alone, then heard his father’s response; he didn’t want to leave.

“If there’s anything I learned from Chewbacca’s death,” he was saying, “it’s that letting things fester only causes more damage. We need to work through this, we can’t just let it sit.”

“And if there’s anything I learned from Chewbacca’s death,” Anakin shot back, “it’s that in this family it’s every man for himself and that I need to watch my back and the backs of the two people who matter most to me. My wife asked you to leave, I’d appreciate it if for once someone would listen to her.”

When the door was finally shut, Tahiri walked to the bed and sat on the edge. She took Anakin’s hand in hers, but he didn’t grasp back, didn’t lace their fingers together, just continued to stare out the window.

He felt her pushing at him through the Force, felt her trying to get him to drop the wall he was holding up between them, felt her pain.

She leaned over, pressed her forehead into his temple and whispered, “talk to me.”

He shook his head quickly, tried to control the convulsive pumping of his chest. “I can’t. I…”

Finally, he wrenched his hand from hers, threw the covers off his legs and got off the bed. He walked around the room, then paced in front of her, running his hand through his hair savagely; then he stopped, and faced her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he boomed.

“What was I supposed to say?” she wailed, standing up to meet him.

“You were supposed to tell me what happened when I asked. You weren’t supposed to cover for them. You were supposed to be honest, not give me half-truths and cute little lies. I shouldn't have to drag this out of you.”

When Tahiri tried to look down, Anakin lurched closer, towering over her, and grabbed her face, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“You aren't supposed to lie to me. You are always supposed to be honest with me. I expect them to lie and give me that ‘certain point of view’ crap. You’re not allowed. You are never allowed—”

His tirade was cut short when he heard the small squeaking noises coming from her throat. Her lips were pressed tightly together, she was trying not to cry out, trying not to let any more noise escape, trying not to look away or pull from his grasp. Both of her hands were wrapped around his forearm, but not to keep him close - to keep her balance.

Anakin yanked his hand back, horrified by what he was doing, more horrified by the angry red marks left on her skin; one where his thumb had held her jaw, three more on the other side of her face where his fingers had held her cheek. He heard a faint clicking, and his mind vaguely registered it as the sound of Tahiri’s boot heels hitting the floor - she was wearing shoes - and he realized that the reason she’d been holding onto his arm, the reason she’d been off balance, was that she’d been standing on her toes while he’d been holding her up by her face.

“Oh, oh Tahiri… I’m…”

He didn’t know what to say—couldn't find the words to express how sorry he was, or his own disbelief at what he had just done. And she just stood there, staring up at him, still gripping his arm, still trying to remain silent, trying to take the abuse he was dishing out, her eyes huge and more frightened than he’d ever seen them. Frightened of him.

He reached back up to touch the bruising skin, and she flinched.

Anakin whirled around, looking for something to focus his rage on. Anything would do. The first thing his eyes fell on was a tall oxygen canister and he sent it sailing across the room. It didn’t explode, but it did meet several other pieces of equipment with a resounding crash. After that, the rest was child’s play; surgical instruments, rolling carts, IV stands, monitoring devices, linen racks, pillows, blankets, containers of various fluids, and finally the mattresses and med beds they’d been sleeping on for the past three weeks all met the walls, the floor and each other as Anakin used the Force, and his hands, to hurl everything not bolted down around the room.

He was dimly aware of the sound of Tahiri’s sobs as she dropped to her knees, crawled to a corner, and put her arms over her head. He was faintly aware of the flare in her Force presence as she reached out to shield their son from the fury Anakin was pouring into the Force.

He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was punishing the wrong person, but he simply couldn't stop himself.


I Have The Touch/Peter Gabriel

 

Oh boy. I knew things weren't going to be pretty but wow.
Keep it up! Hope things get better!

 

Oh the amazing twists and coming together with brutal honesty and then fracturing of trust on various sides! I love Tahiri in this! Poor thing, caught in the middle! Anakin feeling like he's failed everybody who matters and been betrayed by the rest!

 

OH man, I remember this story. Definitely one of my favs. And i say that because i absolutely hated NJO.

But this story was always awesome.

Always loved your take on the characters, and the twists in this. Looking forward to this remake.

 

Chapter 11​

​

Breaking The Girl​

28 ABY
Lusankya, Near Castell, Colonies Region

Anakin lay flat on his back, panting, lightsaber pommel resting on his right palm. The mangled remains of several round, fist sized remotes surrounded his prone body, their fried circuits and melted casings scattered over a wide area.

Yet again, he had failed to catch even a third of the lasers being shot at him with the blade of his saber. So he’d given in to his frustration, opened his eyes, and begun to hack at the devices in rage.

Not very Jedi-like, but what did he care? He wasn't a Jedi anymore.

He took in a deep breath, tried to let the motion sooth him, then gave up in disgust. He rolled over onto his stomach, and pounded the floor with his fists, angry again.

Those were seven of last fifteen remotes he had. He’d already hacked up the other twenty-five Tahiri had gotten for him and it was going to take weeks to track down more. Of course, he’d probably hack those up as well. He could scavenge parts and rebuild more… but he didn’t have the patience, and waiting for Tahiri to order new ones would take forever.

He was alone in the workout room that Tycho had assigned to Tahiri and her commandos. Tahiri was up in her office working, as usual, and the commandos were standing watch over Will and his new nanny, Paloma - at least Anakin thought that was the little Togruta’s name.

Rumors had come in that another kidnapping attempt might be in the offing, so the commandos were standing over Will and the nanny whenever Tahiri was in her office. Actually, they were now standing over Will wherever he was if Tahiri wasn't with him. They only seemed to grace Tahiri with their presence when she felt the need to kick great big giant butts.

She hadn't asked Anakin to work out with her since they’d returned to the Lusankya. Clearly, sweeping the mats with her husband wouldn't provide enough of a challenge; Will would probably give her a better run for her creds. Or, maybe she feared that Anakin would get angry again and use the Force to strangle her.

They’d barely spoken in the month since they been here—at least not about anything more significant than Tahiri telling him where the clean towels were kept, or what blanket Will liked to sleep with at nap time, or her informing him that he had yet another appointment in the med center.

They’d avoided the awkward issue of them sleeping in the same bed by Anakin foregoing sleep altogether, opting instead to spend his nights in meditation, or yet more healing and rejuvenation trances. Eating together didn’t present a problem; Tahiri ate in her office or on the go and Anakin didn’t eat; he sipped, or, if he was lucky, the nutrition droid didn’t puree his food long enough and chunks that roughly resembled food found their way into his cups and he almost got to chew.

Anakin looked at his wrist chrono, debated going home, then decided against it; what was the point? Even if there were someone there, what would they need him for?

His wife had proven handily that she could survive on her own. She’d done precisely what he’d asked her to do the night before he’d left Eclipse; she’d kept herself and their son safe while he was gone. She’d not only done that, but when turned out by his family, she’d built a good life for herself. She hadn't needed his family after all, and she didn’t need him.

His son was thriving; happy and healthy. Will was surrounded by caring people who had spent every day of his life showering him with love and affection. Will didn’t squeal with unrestrained delight when Anakin walked into the room the way he did when the nanny, Wedge, Iella, Tycho, Winter, or even kriffing Bram and the other commandos came in; he just looked at Anakin curiously.

Will didn’t need him either.

His brother and sister hadn't cared enough to determine whether he was actually dead before blowing jets off the worldship; clearly they didn’t need him. The Jedi were doing their passive ‘we will only fight the fight that is brought to us’ crap, so they didn’t need him, or his anger, or his desire to kill as many Vong as he could get in close proximity to. And if his parents had needed him, then they wouldn't have left him on the medical frigate the way they had, regardless of whether or not he told them to.

That was all fine; Anakin didn’t need any of them either.

What Anakin did need was another bunch of remotes to hack to shreds, and short of that, he’d assign himself an old droid or three. He could probably inflict a fair amount of damage on a few of those, and kriff anyone who wanted to lecture him about anger being of the Dark Side.

He was drinking his meals and might very well wind up with mechanical innards before he was twenty-one.

For the first time in his life he was feeling empathy for his grandfather.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Tahiri stood in the doorway of her bedroom, slack-jawed.

It had been a running joke for years: she was the tidy one, Anakin was not. She’d been cleaning up after him since she was nine years old, but this wasn't ‘messy’, this wasn't ‘untidy’ - this was filth, and she wondered how anyone was capable of creating such a disaster in so short a time.

She’d only been off ship for three days.

Anakin lay on his stomach; sprawled out on the bed - the very bed he’d spent more than a month avoiding; each night looking at her as though she was asking him to sleep in a Sarlacc pit when she’d asked him to join her. His current position served to confirm her suspicions, her fears, that it wasn't the bed he had an issue with.

On the floor of the room, one every few meters, were empty med cups that had once contained the pureed liquid that had been serving as Anakin’s diet; at least she hoped they were empty.

Melted plastic remote casings and fried wiring were strewn about as well. They looked to have been hacked at, and the scorch marks on the floor, walls and ceiling indicated that Anakin had been practicing with his lightsaber, had gotten frustrated with the remotes, once again, and then taken his frustration out on the targets.

Tahiri didn’t want to know why he thought doing this in the bedroom was a good idea.

Dirty clothes littered the floor, and she couldn't decide whether to be happy that he’d actually bothered to change his clothes while she’d been gone, or annoyed that he’d ignored the hamper sitting next to the ‘fresher door. She also couldn't imagine how he thought he could have gotten all of this cleaned up on his own before she returned; and finally decided that he must not have cared.

The disaster in front of her only proved that her feelings were irrelevant to him, that he blamed her for all that had gone wrong in his life. Leia had been right; telling him about Will before he left for the mission had been a mistake after all, had distracted him and caused him to get left behind. It was her fault that he wasn't speaking to his family, and, while the idea of marriage and children was romantic in theory, the reality was a different story.

Anakin had made it abundantly clear since his return that he had no interest in her, had no interest in being a husband. The only time he’d touched her since he’d woken up was the night he’d made the comment about her being dressed like Iella, though he’d been too weak to do anything other than kiss her and cuddle. Tahiri had eventually chalked that one hour of stolen intimacy up to his relief at being alive; figuring she probably could have been any warm body.

He’d also made it clear that he had no interest in their baby, had no interest in being a father. The only reason Tahiri could figure that Anakin was even going through the motions, half-assed as his attempts were, was out of a sense of obligation, and she didn’t need the guilt of trapping him into a life he didn’t want to be in on top of the guilt she already felt for tearing him away from his parents and siblings.

What she was about to do was a gift. Setting him free would tear out what was left of her heart, but it would be better for all of them in the long run.

A few hours ago, on the shuttle coming home, she’d realized how ironic this all was; she’d spent fourteen months in agony, longing for Anakin, sure that having a piece of her soul ripped out wouldn't be as painful as fearing him dead had been. She’d been certain that nothing the Shapers had done to her—could ever have done to her—could compare to what him being gone had felt like; and yet here he was, alive and living in her home, and he’d never been farther away. At least while Anakin was missing, she’d been able to live under the delusion that he’d wanted her and their son.

Tahiri closed her eyes, bit her lower lip, tried to prepare herself for what she was about to do, accepted that she was as prepared as she was ever going to be, and stepped over to the bed.

“Anakin.” She called his name lightly, not wanting to startle him. He still had a hard time waking up, wasn't always sure where he was when his eyes first opened.

After a minute, she tried again; this time she rubbed his arm and called his name in a louder voice.

Still nothing.

Several minutes later, her anxiety and hurt over what she was about to do, augmented by Anakin’s lack of awareness, were sapping what little patience she had started out with. She hauled her foot back and kicked the edge of the bed. His response was to sigh, punch his hand into her pillow, and bury his face deeper into it.

Now she was getting angry.

She kicked the bed harder, not registering that she’d triggered the knife in her toe when her boot heel hit the floor again—until her third kick ripped a hole in the sheet and mattress. This made her even angrier, and her fourth kick, the one that finally got Anakin’s attention, sent puffs of fabric and stuffing flying.

Anakin propped himself up on his elbows, peered up at her from under his hair, and winced, before immediately dropping his gaze.

“Hey,” he said to the pillow. He lifted a hand up to rub at his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose then quietly asked, “When did you get back?”

“We landed an hour ago. I’ve been trying to comm you since we touched down.”

Anakin rolled over, sat up, looked around, his eyes going wide as he took in the state of the room, seeming as surprised as she had been to see the mess.

“Sorry about this, I’ll pick up.”

Tahiri closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her own nosed, and sighed before dropping her hands to her hips. “Don’t bother.” Then, carefully, she stepped over the obstacle course of debris to get to the dresser.

Anakin was just swinging his legs over the side of the bed when Tahiri hurled a bundle of fresh clothes at him; underwear, undershirt, socks, flight suit.She didn’t mean to hit him in the head, but couldn’t help the small glimmer of satisfaction when she did.

“Take a shower.”

He seemed to get the hint, didn’t argue, was already up and heading toward the ‘fresher when she reached the bedroom door; had the water running by the time she’d reached the kitchen.

Ten minutes later Anakin shuffled in, clean, wearing the clothes he’d been given. He sat at the table just as she slid a plate of buttered toast in front of him and slammed down a glass of blue milk.

“I spoke with the MD-6, he said he gave you permission to start eating light solids two days ago.”

She watched Anakin set his jaw and slide the plate away, but before he could say anything, she flicked her finger, using the Force to slide the plate right back.

“Eat it.” She ordered.

Staring at the table he ground out, “So I can throw it up in twenty minutes? No, but thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll find you something else. And if you can’t hold that down I’ll find something else.”

“How incredibly sensitive of you.”

“I’ve got a fully stocked kitchen and the rest of my life to cook for you.”

“And if I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life cooking for me?”

Tahiri fell back, felt her hip lean hard into the counter, felt her shoulders sag and her chin drop to her chest, felt something inside of her break as Anakin gave her the last bit of encouragement she needed.

“Fine. You want to keep drinking your meals, what do I care? It’s your choice.” Tahiri paused, swallowed the hurt that was threatening to choke her, and dived into the speech she had prepared and practiced while flying home. “Which brings up a whole list of other issues that are your choice. If you want to quit being a husband; fine. You’re done.”

Anakin stiffened visibly, but he didn’t speak, didn’t say anything, so she kept going.

“I release you from you obligation; it was never real anyway.”

He still didn’t respond, and a tiny voice inside of her begged him to; begged him to disagree with what she was saying, but he didn’t.

“You want to quit being a father? You never asked to be a father anyway, and you clearly have no interest in him. It’s okay, I’ve done it by myself this long, I can do the rest.”

Still nothing, and the little voice inside of her grew louder, began to scream, Please Anakin, please, tell me you love us.

Nothing.

“You want to quit being a Jedi? I can’t fault you there; even I quit that. But before you were any of those things—” here her voice hitched, and she looked down, concentrating on steadying herself so she could get through this; and he still hadn't looked at her. “Before you were any of those things, you were my friend, you were my best friend, but if you don’t want to be that anymore…”

I need you, Anakin; please tell me you need me too.

Tahiri felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly wiped it away and shook her head. “Whatever. Choke down your toast or don’t, but you need to comm Tycho. He wants you in the simm room this afternoon. He and Wedge have a bet going; Wedge doesn't think he can have you flight ready by the end of the month.Regardless of who wins, you’re to be building your squadron roster by the end of next month.” In a quieter voice, with her heart twisting in her chest, she told him; “I think it would be better for both of us if you moved out.Tycho can tell you who to see for your new quarters.I’ll have your things sent to you.”

Anakin continued to stare at his toast. He didn’t tell her he didn’t want to go, didn’t tell her he loved her; didn’t tell her that he wanted to stay.

She’d been right, he didn’t want to be here, didn’t want her. Letting him go was the right thing to do, because they couldn't go on living like this, him being miserable, and her waiting for him to work up the courage to leave on his own. She was doing the right thing for him.

Knowing that she wasn't going to be able to hold herself together much longer, knowing that her heart would never be the same, Tahiri turned to leave the kitchen. All she wanted now was to make it to the bedroom before she broke down, all she wanted was to be away from him so he wouldn't see how much this hurt her. If she could just get away, hide her pain so she didn’t need to suffer the humiliation of him seeing what his rejection was doing to her she’d be okay—she’d find a way to be okay, just like she always did.

She hesitated for just a second as she was passing him; she knew it was probably a waste of breath, knew that she’d hurt all over again when he never responded to her offer, but for Will’s sake she had to make it; “If you ever want to see Will, spend time with him… you can call me. We can work something out.”

Still, he said nothing.


Tahiri walked the remaining few steps to her bedroom, closed the door, and felt her knees give out. She slid to the floor as the tears began again, and she felt herself swallowed up by a gaping hole of agony, larger and deeper than anything she’d ever felt before.



Breaking The Girl/The Red Hot Chili Peppers

 

Hey guys, sorry for the silence and lack of replies. I had to go to Dallas for a conference and came back with a head cold... not conducive to posting - even if it is reposting.

Force Smuggler, Thanks for reading - and yes, the phrase 'it's always darkest before the dawn' comes to mind.

Nyota's Heart - yes... brutal is a good word. Just out of curiosity - how much of this do you remember?

Darth Kiryan - thank you for the kind words and for re-reading. I hated a lot of NJO too, but lets face it - it wasn't as bad as LotF or FotJ.

 

Chapter 12​

​

You Know What The Sun’s All About When The Lights Go Out​

Anakin took a deep breath, dropped into a crouch, and gave Bram the most menacing glare he could muster… while pain still rocketed through his ribs.

Bram smiled back, motioned his fingers in a ‘bring it on’ taunt, but the smile disappeared when Anakin launched himself into the larger man’s gut, sending him sprawling.

It took a while for Bram to get the words out. “Nicely done, Colonel, I’m going to assume you didn’t use the Force to do that.”

Anakin wheezed out a laugh, stood up panting, then reached down to give Bram a hand.

“Never. Knocking you on your ass wouldn't be anywhere near as satisfying if I had to resort to parlor tricks to do it.”

“Funny, your wife never seems to feel bad about it.”

Anakin swallowed the hurt that any mention of Tahiri inevitably brought, and shook his head. “She shouldn't. She’s half your size, and I’d prefer she not hesitate to use any weapons at her disposal if she’s in a real fight; practicing on you thugs keeps her sharp.”

“Oh, she’s sharp; knocked Stroker out cold the other day. Felt bad about it for a whole ten seconds too,” he laughed.

Bram must have noticed the look on Anakin’s face, knew him well enough now to recognize the change in his demeanor, because he placed a hand on the younger man’s arm, and gave it a gentle squeeze, “Hey,” he said “it’s going to work. And if it doesn't work tonight, it’ll work tomorrow, or the next day. It’s all going to be okay.”

Anakin smiled and nodded at his friend, wishing he felt half as confident as Bram, then decided - made a specific choice - to think positively. He and Tahiri had been through a lot, both together and apart; he was not going to allow himself to believe that it was really over between them, was not going to allow himself to believe that they didn’t have a future together. Despite all evidence to the contrary.

“Yeah,” Anakin finally breathed out, “we’ll see.” Striding over to his bag, he picked it up and, trying to brighten, said; “I’d love to stay and throw you around some more, but I’ve gotta get to Dr. Abay’s office.”

“Right, where’d you leave off last time?” Bram asked, as he grabbed his own duffel and followed Anakin toward the door.

“With my feelings toward my good-for-nothing siblings for ditching me on the worldship, and how that ties into my feelings toward Han and Leia for ditching me with Winter as an infant, and how that all exacerbated my feelings about how they treated…” Anakin shook his head slowly and let out a long breath before he continued. “He was practically convulsing with disappointment when the session was up and I had to leave. I swear the man is a trauma junkie.”

Bram laughed again. “Of course he’s a trauma junkie; he’s a shrink.”

The last three months had held some of the most painful moments Anakin had ever known - worse, in many ways, than his time on Myrkr. At least there he had believed that if he could manage to get himself home, Tahiri would be waiting for him. That comforting feeling had been absent since the day she’d kicked him out - since she’d refused to speak to him.

His initial reaction, after her proclamation that he should find his own quarters, had been anger and indignation; how dare she act like their issues were only his fault; how dare she act like he was indifferent to her and their son? How dare she be so insensitive to the difficulty he was having getting re-acclimated after the ordeal he’d just been through? After Tahiri had barricaded herself in her room he’d hurled his plate of toast into the wall, then sent the glass of milk sailing after it and stalked down to the simulator room.

He’d spent hours after that vaping computerized ‘skips.

Tycho had been impressed with his scores that day, was as jubilant as Anakin could ever remember seeing the man, until Anakin had asked who he needed to see to be assigned his own quarters. The fact that Anakin refused to talk about what had happened with Tahiri didn’t help. Tycho, suddenly stone faced, had given Anakin the name he’d wanted, told him what time to report back the next day for training, then turned around and walked away.

Weeks had gone by before Anakin was able to appreciate just how supremely he’d kriffed up – before he could accept that he was one hundred percent to blame for the situation he’d found himself in. Tahiri had tried to make things better, she had tried to reach him, and he’d done nothing but push her away.

He could tick off his mistakes as though reading a marketing list.

The day he’d learned how his family had treated her while he was gone, the day he’d bruised her face and trashed his med center room, he should have dropped down onto his knees, thrown his arms around her waist, hung on for dear life and begged her to forgive him.

He hadn't.

Mistake number one.

When they’d returned to the Lusankya, Anakin shouldn't have spent every night meditating or doing rejuvenation trances, or pretending to. He should have crawled into bed beside his wife, held her, told her how much he loved her, needed her, wanted her, and begged her to forgive him for wallowing in self-pity and shutting her out.

He hadn't.

Mistake number two.

At least one of the times Tahiri had tried to make eye contact with him in the first several days after his med center tantrum, he should have looked at her instead of avoiding her gaze.

He hadn't.

Mistake number three.

All the times Tahiri had asked him to help her bathe Will, feed him, play with him, get on the floor and encourage him as he struggled to learn to crawl, read to him, rock him, take some interest in him, Anakin should have jumped at the opportunities to get to know his son.

He hadn't.

Mistakes number four through ten.

When his doctor had prescribed sessions with the ship’s psychiatrist to help him work through the trauma he’d suffered, and the fall out with his family, he should have said ‘what a great idea’, made an appointment and kept it.

Instead, he’d told the doctor to go kriff himself.

Mistake number eleven.

When Tahiri had told him that it was fine if he wanted to quit being a husband, a father, a friend, he should have stood up and told her that he didn’t want to quit being any of those things, he just didn’t know how he fit in, didn’t know where he fit into the life that she had built for herself while he’d been gone, and that he needed her help.

But he hadn't.

Mistake number twelve.

The one time he had actually done what she’d asked was when she told him to leave.

Mistake number thirteen.

Despite the loneliness, there had been bright spots.

Three weeks after he’d moved out, he’d called Tahiri to ask if he could see Will. She hadn't answered her comlink so he’d left a message, thinking she’d call back and they would talk. He’d assumed that his effort would open the lines of communication and set them on the road to recovery. Instead he’d opened his door the following morning to be greeted by the nanny, Paloma, a Togruta girl—very sweet and capable, and deadly if provoked; she had Will cradled in one arm, a printed page graphing Will’s weekly schedule clasped in her other hand.

Anakin’s name was slotted into various squares on the graph and a note at the bottom of the page, in Tahiri’s neat script, informed him that she’d checked with Tycho to verify that the hours she’d assigned Anakin to spend with Will worked with his training schedule, but if there were any conflicts she hadn't accounted for Anakin was to let Paloma know and other arrangements would be made.

That incident made a couple of things very clear to Anakin; he was welcome to see his son, though his visits would be chaperoned by Paloma, who was always accompanied by at least two commandos, and any hope he had of getting a chance to talk to Tahiri while they passed their son over to each other was not going to happen. The realization had hurt Anakin, but he tried to focus on the positive; on the fact that she was not going to hold his son hostage as punishment for his bad behavior.

The bright spot in all of this was that it didn’t take long, or much effort, for Anakin to become one of the people who sent Will into a frenzy of squeals and giggles when he walked into the room, and soon Anakin found that the only thing in the galaxy that might compare to the feel of having Tahiri in his arms, was the feel of having his son in his arms.

He also made a friend, and an ally, in Paloma.

Another revelation, one that not only surprised but humbled him, was that Bram did not have a crush on Tahiri, he was not pining for Anakin’s wife or suffering from unrequited love; he admired her, he thought she was the strongest, brightest, most talent young woman he knew, and he considered it a privilege and an honor to serve her in any way she needed.

The humbling part came when Anakin learned that he himself was one of the few people Bram held in higher esteem than Tahiri. Eventually, Anakin realized that Bram was actually in awe of what he had survived on Myrkr, and what he had accomplished before that. Once Anakin got over the guilt he felt for his first uncharitable feelings for the man, he made another friend and ally.

It was Bram—and the other commandos—who trained with him, pushing him to help him regain his former strength, who watched his diet and suggested various supplements and foods to nurture his digestive system, and it was them, and Paloma, who kept him updated on what Tahiri was doing – on how Tahiri was doing.

He eventually smoothed things over with the Antilles and Celchu families as well. They were all sympathetic to the difficulties he had after his return from the dead, and didn’t hold that against him. What they did hold against him was his treatment of Tahiri, but as things calmed down and they began to see how sorry he was, and that he was prepared to do anything to get her back, they joined the ever growing number of people willing of offer him all the help they could to make that happen.

Anakin’s nights were hard; he was plagued by memories of the past. He remembered with crystal clarity the night he and Tahiri had spent in the little cavern on Yavin Four, the night before she’d been captured, the night he first began to realize that he was in love with her.

“What are we, Anakin? A year ago you were my best friend.”

“No one knows you like I do, and you don’t want anyone to…”

“…the way you treat your other friends must really stink…”

It seemed he’d been making the same mistakes in their relationship for a long time, and he had to wonder how they’d managed to come as far as they had before he’d finally caused it to implode. If he had thought being stranded on Myrkr was painful, it didn’t begin to compare to the pain of losing Tahiri’s love and respect.

One night, while lying in the dark, arms wrapped tightly around himself, longing for the feel of Tahiri’s arms wrapped around him instead, he realized that part of the problem he’d had when he’d come home was that he’d been looking at her as Will’s mother, Iella’s protégé, Intel’s rising star, instead of just Tahiri—and in an epiphany, not unlike the one he’d had that night on Yavin, he realized that all he had needed to navigate the rocky road of rebuilding his life was her.

Hard as he tried, he couldn't understand why he had treated her the way he had after she’d spent so many years showing him over and over that she was the one person he could always trust. Since they were nine and eleven she had held his hand through everything, been his biggest supporter, most fierce protector. She was the one person he could say anything to, the one person who would never judge, who would always forgive, would always love, and he now knew, was reminded, that he didn’t just want to rebuild his life, he wanted to rebuild his life with her.

He could easily have told her how lost and confused he felt when he came back, that he felt helpless, useless, and like less than a man, and she would have held him tight, kissed away his fears, and made him feel safe and needed. And these were all the reasons he had wanted to spend his life with her in the first place, these were all the reasons he had known, even at sixteen, that she was the one.

But instead, he had pushed her away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Anakin looked around the apartment, checking everything for the twentieth time. He’d comm’d flight control thirty minutes ago; Tahiri should be arriving any moment and everything needed to be perfect.

Will’s toys and books were all picked up and in their appropriate baskets. The throw blanket was folded neatly and draped over the back of the sofa. The holovids were in the right containers and filed back on the shelf by the holoplayer, in aurebeshic order. The data pads where stacked neatly on Tahiri’s desk, exactly where they were supposed to be.

Paloma had checked the bedroom and given Anakin the thumbs up; nothing on the floor or under the bed, nothing out of place, not a scorch mark to be found on the floor, walls or ceiling, and the bed was made just the way Tahiri liked it. The things he’d added, the special touch, were the flowers.

Six containers sat on the dressers and nightstands. The closest thing he could find to vases were old med cups, empty baby food jars, and a couple of glasses and each held a bouquet of six carefully folded paper flowers made to look like yellow Ithorian tulips; Tahiri’s favorite. On her pillow was a seventh bouquet, the stems wrapped in an ice-blue colored ribbon that was tied in a bow. Anakin had spent hours making the flowers; Will had helped, if eating the paper counted as helping. He prayed she’d like them, prayed she’d get the significance of the number of flowers; forty-two.

The ‘fresher was clean; the towels hung neatly, dirty clothes in the hamper, the sink wiped clean of toothpaste and any signs that he’d shaved. Anakin had wiped down the shower door, lined up the bottles of shampoo and soap. He’d even made sure the toilet seat was down.

The nursery was tidy and the dirty diapers had been taken to the incinerator earlier in the afternoon.

Anakin, with Will in his arms, had run the carpet sweeper around the whole apartment, then run a cleaning cloth over all surfaces; the place was spotless.

Will was clean and jammied.

Anakin had given up bathing him in the tub ages ago, deciding it was far easier to just take the kid into the shower with him. Will seemed to enjoy it, didn’t mind being soaped up, shampooed and then held under the cascading water. Tonight this had all been done after Anakin had spoon-fed him one bowl of mashed vegetables and one bowl of mashed fruit. Half the food always seemed to wind up in Will’s hair, his nearly white curls plastered to his scalp after each meal, and Anakin was dumbfounded to hear from Paloma that Tahiri didn’t have to bathe their son after breakfast, lunch and dinner. Maybe, if this evening went well, she’d show him how she managed to get more food into Will’s mouth than on his head, and Anakin and Will could cut down to one or two showers a day when they spent time together.

Anakin hugged his son to him, and inhaled that clean baby scent he’d grown to love, confident that Tahiri would be impressed with their son’s appearance.

He carried Will into the kitchen to check how dinner was coming. Lifting the lid off the pot of simmering csolcir, he leaned in and smelled that too.

“What do you say, Will of the Force? Will mommy like it? Uncle Wedge says this is her favorite Corellian dish. Think she’ll be impressed?”

Will furrowed his little blond brows and babbled earnestly, causing his father to laugh and kiss his head.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Wedge had promised that Tahiri would be pleased by his menu choice, she’d always loved it when Wedge had made it himself, and it was ‘relatively easy to do’; Wedge-ese for ‘even you can’t screw this up’. The ingredients had been hard to come by, but Stroker and Junip had friends in food procurement who owed them favors and, though it had taken days, they’d managed to scrounge up what Anakin needed. The important thing, the part everyone was counting on, was that Tahiri would know how difficult it was to find the ingredients and would therefore know how hard Anakin had worked to put this evening together.

Anakin looked over the table next.

Paloma had assured him it looked great; the tablecloth and napkins were a beautiful antique lace that belonged to Iella. Anakin had accepted the contribution gladly, not questioning how she’d come by fine linens in the middle of a war, or why she had them with her.

Tycho had taken the candlesticks from the senior officer’s dining room; the candles themselves had been donated by Bram. Again, Anakin hadn't asked questions, simply accepted the offering gratefully.

The plates and utensils were Winter’s; Alderainian patterns she’d found at a bizarre on Deyer years ago and happened to have stored with her on Mon Cal when Coruscant fell. He’d left those in the kitchen by the cook top. He didn’t want it to seem too obvious to Tahiri that he was trying to wine and dine her; he wanted to leave her an out, wanted her to be able to thank him for not trashing her place while she’d been gone, then say goodnight and show him the door. But, if she showed the slightest interest in letting him stay, in letting him serve her dinner and share it with her, he’d be ready.

He thought the anticipation alone would kill him though – tonight would be the first time they’d actually be seeing each other since the day she’d kicked him out.

The wine glasses were standing with the plates. They were cheap, standard, and would only be holding water. Anakin’s stomach still couldn't tolerate alcohol, and Tahiri was still nursing, but that was okay; their presence was symbolic, simply there to add to the overall affect he was trying to achieve.

Will yawned widely and rubbed a small fist into his eye. Anakin cupped his head and tucked it under his chin, swaying gently, debating giving him a bottle and putting him to bed.

His plan had been to keep him up, thinking that Tahiri would appreciate seeing him, would like to spend a little time with him before tucking him in herself. Anakin could only imagine how hard this must have been for her, how much she must have missed him. She’d never left him before, never been away from him, and had only agreed to leaving him with Anakin because Paloma and Bram had been reporting for weeks how good Anakin had gotten with him, how capable and loving Anakin was with their son, and had sworn to keep a close eye on them.

When Paloma had first informed Anakin that Tahiri was scheduled for a four to five day mission and would be leaving in two days, Anakin had felt a surge of grief; the idea of being away from his son was painful. An hour later, Anakin called Paloma and asked her to ask Tahiri if she would consider leaving Will, and an ample supply of milk, with Anakin instead of taking him with her. Paloma called back less than four minutes later; Tahiri had said no.

Anakin had Paloma ask Tahiri again a couple of hours later, this time giving a list of reasons why Will’s staying with him was a good idea; the stress of traveling with Will was always hard on Tahiri. She wouldn't need to take Paloma, she wouldn't need to take the commandos, she wouldn't need to take the arsenal, or her hair clip…

Paloma comm'd back after another hour to say that Tahiri was thinking about it, but not to get his hopes up.

He could do that; Anakin was becoming a pro at not getting his hopes up.

He’d supplied another list shortly after that; if Tahiri didn’t need to take breaks from her meetings, or whatever it was she was slated to do, in order to feed or spend time with Will, her trip might be shorter. She wouldn't have to travel with a crib, toys, diapers, baby food, she wouldn't need to worry about Will getting sick and having to rely on a med droid that didn’t know Will’s health history. He knew that was a little manipulative, and Tahiri didn’t take Will to the med bay as often as she had when Anakin had first gotten back, but she did seem to have an odd obsession with having him scanned for medical issues on a regular basis.

Finally, the morning Tahiri was to leave, Paloma called Anakin to report that Tahiri had given in; she would leave Will with Anakin, and was in the process of writing out a full five day schedule that she expected to be followed to the letter, with instructions that Anakin was to stay at her place while she was gone. Anakin was elated, had immediately called Tahiri to thank her. Of course she didn’t answer the comm, but he left her a message, telling her that he appreciated her trusting him, and that he and Will would be fine.

He also promised keep her place clean.


(You Know What The Sun's All About) when The Lights Go Out/James Patrick Carney and Daniel Aurebach

 

#11: Wow, just wow! I'm literally at a loss for words, which happens not often, at all!
I love that you give us both sides - how he (and also she) assumes a great deal about what the other person wants and doesn't. Funny that a child of a Solo and an Organa both would have a difficult time making sure the other person knew how they felt and making sure in turn they hadn't gotten their signals crossed. Although now that I think of the erm intresting style of communicating in ANH and ESB -

~!

It's only natural that Will would have a sense of who's that with Anakin, the lack of familiarity etc. But Anakin interprets that as rejection.

~!

In other rocky romance fics, the bridge came in one because the main character was in therapy and knew straight up from counseling that he'd better get his act together and his lady told him without equivocaition that she wasn't gonna take any mis-treatment.

In another, the crux came when a literal parting was imminent - so there had to be some opening up.

Here, I don't remember what the bridge was -- I just know that with so many caring people around, there's gonna be one.


In the hands of a less-adept author, this all could become very LOL melodramatic, but you make it so realistic and the characters sympathetic even as they frustrate you.

 

Chapter 13​

​

Magnet and Steel​

Anakin flicked a finger towards the stereo to turn on some music - something soothing – then hugged his baby closer to his chest and continued to sway and rock Will around the living room. He closed his eyes, opened himself to the Force, reached out to his little boy, and smiled when he felt his little boy reach back.

Even though he was only nine months old, Will was already able to do things that most Force sensitives weren’t able to until they were far older than him; he could levitate toys, call objects to himself that were across the room, convey emotions and needs to his parents—and he could shatter glass when angry; not one of Anakin’s favorite things.

What was one of Anakin’s favorite things was feeling Will use the Force to touch him. It was similar to how Anakin and Tahiri used to reach for each other, the way their emotions would meld together. It wasn't as strong or intense with Will, by any means, just like having a conversation with Tahiri would be different than having a conversation with Will; the desire and the intent were there, but the sophistication wasn't.

Will suddenly wiggled in Anakin’s arms and strained to turn toward the door. A moment later it slid open to reveal Tahiri, and Anakin’s breath caught in his throat.

She looked exhausted, but even more beautiful than his heart remembered.

A wide smile lit her face as she glided in, dropped her bag, and opened her arms to take Will.

“Hi, baby.” She whispered as she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead into his, and smoothed her palm over his hair. “Momma missed you so much.” She leaned back to look at him, grasped one of his hands and pulled it up to her mouth to kiss his fingers, then kissed his cheek. “Did you miss momma?”

“He has,” Anakin answered for him, “a lot.”

Tahiri looked up at Anakin, her smile smaller, but still there. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

They stood, looking at each other for a long moment, neither saying anything until Anakin forced himself to break the silence.

“Uhm… I know it’s past his bedtime… but I called flight control - they said you’d be here soon… and I knew you’d want to see him… I thought maybe you’d want to nurse him to sleep…”

He let the sentence trail off, not sure where to go next.

“Actually, that would be astral, I’m about to explode. Thank you for thinking of it.”

“Sure. He’s all ready to go. He had some fruit and vegetables earlier, not in that order - I stuck to your instructions. And he’s had a bath, well, actually a shower. It’s easier that way… for me… to shower him… with me. And I just changed his diaper, and those are clean pajamas. At least I think they’re pajamas, it’s hard to tell with some of his clothes, but they don’t have snaps or zippers so I figured they’d be okay to sleep in, but if you want to change him…”

Anakin stopped when he noticed that Tahiri had an amused look on her face and he wasn't sure if she was laughing ‘with him’ or ‘at him’.

“These are pajamas, but you’re right; some of them are hard to tell apart.” She turned toward the kitchen, a curious look on her face. “Do I smell food?”

Anakin put one hand on his hip, and with the other reached up and scratched his head, looked toward the kitchen himself, then back at Tahiri.

“Ah… yeah, I thought you might be hungry… I made a little something… for us… to eat. If you want to put him down, it should be ready in about twenty minutes.”

Anakin held his breath, waited for her to answer, waited for her to say ‘thank you for babysitting, you can go now’, waited to have his heart ripped out of his chest, watched as she seemed to debate how to respond.

“Um… I’m kinda tired… and grungy…”

“That’s okay,” Anakin cut in hurriedly. “I’ll just throw it in the fridge. You can eat it tomorrow, or, whenever. I’ll just grab my stuff and let you two...”

“Anakin?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I take a quick shower after I put him down, or will that ruin what you made?”

“No, no, that won’t ruin anything. It’ just csolcir. I think, if I did it right, it could probably sit for days and still be okay.”

He caught the slight tilt of Tahiri’s head, knew that tilt; knew all her little quirks and mannerisms, and this one meant that she was trying to figure out what he was up to. But then she smiled at him, at him.

“Okay,” her voice was soft, just above a whisper, “why don’t you say goodnight to your son?”

She turned Will slightly, and Anakin moved forward, placed his left hand on Tahiri’s waist to draw her closer, placed his right hand on Will’s back as he leaned in and kissed the little forehead.

“I’ll see you in the morning, buddy.”

Will looked up at him, but Anakin was too focused on where his hand was resting, on the fact that Tahiri had let him touch her, hadn't removed his arm from his body, to fully appreciate the loving smile his son was giving him. He would have felt bad about his neglect if he hadn't been doing mental back-flips from joy.

Tahiri ignored his hand, or at least didn’t remark on it, simply said, “I’ll be out in a while,” before disappearing into Will’s room.

Anakin nodded after her, then busied himself with finishing the table; he laid out the utensils, lit the candles, poured the water—bubbly, just for fun—then paced the living room, waiting.

When Tahiri reappeared, thirty-six minutes after she’d left, she looked even more beautiful. Her damp golden curls hung loose to her shoulders, and she wore a tattered tank top, a hint of smooth skin bare between it and the baggy sleep pants that just clung to her hips. Anakin would have recognized those pants anywhere; she’d stolen them from him on Eclipse.

Unfortunately, she also wore a pensive expression that worried him; had he gone too far with the flowers? If he had, he’d likely gone too far with everything else and this was all going to be too much too fast.

Positive, think positive, he reminded himself.

The goal for the evening was to be friendly; friends can make dinner for friends. It didn’t have to be anything more than that. It didn’t have to be anything she didn’t want it to be - he wasn't going to push, but he sure as hell was going to be available for anything she did want. He was going to make wanting him back as easy as possible.

Plastering a friendly smile on his face, Anakin pulled a chair away from the dining table, “Here, have a seat, I’ll bring out the food.”

Tahiri’s expression changed from pensive to curious again, but when he reached out to her through what used to be their bond he was met by the same wall that had stymied him for months. It didn’t feel quite as thick as usual, and the frayed-around-the-edges sensation was a little more pronounced, but she certainly wasn't welcoming him in. He wondered how non-Force users navigated relationships because this was driving him insane.

He came back in a few minutes later and set the plates down, pleased by the smile that blossomed on Tahiri’s face.

“Goodness, what did you blackmail Wedge with to get this recipe?” She asked as she dug in.

Anakin frowned, “Nothing, he offered it.”

Tahiri looked genuinely surprised. “I’ve been trying to get him to cough it up for months…” She stopped short, a look of comprehension lighting her features. “And the ingredients?”

“Uhmm…” Anakin suddenly felt caught out, even though the whole point was for her to understand that he’d worked hard for this. “The commandos helped.”

Tahiri rested her hand on the table and looked at Anakin, really looked at him, held his gaze for a long moment, then asked, “And you can eat this?”

He’d been hoping she wouldn't ask that, still found it hard to talk about, hated how pathetic it made him feel that he still couldn't hold down much food; that his body still rejected most of what he attempted to put into it – but if he wanted her back, he couldn't hide from her.

He gave her a lopsided grin and admitted, “I pulled a little out for myself before I added the spices. I’ll be fine.”

She continued to stare at him, and finally asked, “Anakin, why did you do this?” There was a hint of fear in her voice, like she wanted the answer, but was prepared to not trust it.

He cleared his throat, looked down - then forced himself to look back up. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

She kept staring at him, seemed to be trying to decide how to interpret his answer and it hurt that she had to do that, that she couldn't just accept what he’d said.

Fearing that he was about to lose her, lose the moment, he mentally scrambled for something to say, something non-threatening, something that wasn't about them or how badly he’d screwed up their relationship.

“So, how was the mission? What were you doing?”

Tahiri picked her hand back up, dug into her food, took a bite, and swallowed. “Mmmm… this is wonderful. You did a great job. It’s a good thing Tionne never knew you had it in you to cook. You’d never have gotten out of kitchen duty.”

“Tahiri, what was the mission?”

She cleared her throat, took a sip of water and sighed. “An infiltration unit I’ve been working with brought a group of Shamed Ones in; they asked for asylum. It’s unprecedented; no Yuuzhan Vong have ever surrendered, well, not without the shaped version of a suicide vest on. Iella sent me over to debrief them.”

“And?”

“And,” she shrugged, “I debriefed them.”

“And?”

“And, the information I got is classified.”

“Did they recognize you?”

“Yeah,” she admitted unhappily. “For a while there I actually deluded myself into believing that I could get away with not being ‘the Jeedai Who Was Shaped’. No scars, no lightsaber, I didn’t even levitate anything in front of them.”

Anakin chuckled, and Tahiri sighed heavily, her frustration painfully clear.

“I suppose it was naïve of me to think they’d miss who I was, but I’m the only agent qualified to handle something like this, so I couldn't not go.”

“I guess that means you’re still the only stunning, green-eyed blond fluent in Yuuzhan Vong running around the galaxy.”

Tahiri blushed faintly, dropped her gaze, twisted her fork into her food, and again, it hurt Anakin that she seemed hesitant to believe his words; acted like she wasn't sure she could trust that he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Anakin swallowed his disappointment, swallowed the bite of food in his mouth, then attempted something he’d spent his whole life trying to avoid; making small talk.

They discussed all the things Will had done, eaten, tried to eat, thrown, and called to himself while she’d been gone. Tahiri confessed that she was at a loss as to how to break him of the habit of using the Force to hurl toys around the room, though she had developed a theory that he only seemed to do it when he was bored or wanted attention. A frightening reality if true.

Anakin told her about the squadron he was building, Wedge and Tycho’s frustration with how long it was taking him, and his explanation for why it was taking so long.

“I’m asking these people to put their lives on the line every day, to trust me, and to trust each other. I’m trying to select pilots based on more than just their sim scores. I want a tight unit, a cohesive group that can truly work together, not just a bunch of individual hot shots.”

“I’d think Wedge would be behind you on that. Wasn't that sort of the model he used when he was putting the first Wraiths together?”

“They were more of a multi-tasking bunch, and Wedge was pulling wash-outs from all over who were willing to do anything to stay in a cockpit and out of the brig. I’m going more for personalities that fit with mine and with each other. I’ve actually been trying to get Dr. Abay to help me with psych evals, determine what these guys will do under pressure; how they will be with each other under stress. I’ve been putting groups of the pilots I like together to see how they interact. I’ve cut several really good pilots because I didn’t like the way they responded to pilots I genuinely like who had lower test scores. I want them to be able to hang out together, want to spend time together, not just fly at the same time because it’s their job.”

Anakin looked up from his plate to see Tahiri smiling at him.

“What?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“You’re trying to build a family.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows slightly, realized she was right, then smiled and let his head bob around lazily. “Yeah, maybe. A family of pilots who will stand together, take care of each other, no matter what.”

“It’s a good idea, and you’re an excellent leader; you’ll have the top squad around in no time.”

Anakin ducked his head again for a second before looking back up and saying, “I don’t know about that. I’ll just be happy if I can manage to keep them all alive for a while.”

“I can’t see how Wedge and Tycho could fault you for taking your time to achieve that goal.”

“They’re not really that put out, but they do like to tease.”

“Don’t I know it; and their wives are even worse. If they suggest I requisition my own MD droid one more time…”

Anakin laughed. “He’s perfectly healthy, Tahiri.”

“Oh, don’t you start too. I’d never even held a baby before Will was born, there’s nothing wrong with me wanting to make sure our son is developing normally,” she defended, and Anakin did another mental jump for joy because she’d referred to Will as ‘our son’.

They were both still smiling when Tahiri scooted her chair back to stand up, reaching for his plate as she did. Anakin placed his hand on hers, rubbing his thumb across it.

“Let me do that, you go relax.”

“Wow,” she said gently, “someone alert the press: Anakin Solo is volunteering to do dishes.”

“Only for you.”

His comment hung between them for a long time as they looked at each other.

Finally Tahiri nodded, “Maybe I’ll go unpack.”

“Okay.”

She pulled her hand away—slowly, Anakin was pleased to note—and stood and walked to her room.
Anakin was finished with the dishes and had everything put away, just the way Tahiri liked it, in no time. He’d done everything during the evening he’d set out to do; they’d spent time together, talked, looked at each other - Anakin hadn't dodged her gaze once, at least not for any significant length of time. They’d even laughed together. They hadn't discussed their relationship, but maybe now that might be possible.

Heading back into the living room, he looked around again; there really wasn't anything else to do. It was time to call it a night.

He was just reaching for his bag when Tahiri came back out of her room, the bouquet from her pillow, the one tied with the ice blue bow, in her hand.

“The flowers are beautiful, thank you.”

He smiled softly at her. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry they aren't the real thing. You have no idea how hard it is to find live tulips on a star destroyer in the middle of a war.” He hoped the tone of his voice was light, didn’t carry the desperation he was feeling.

“These are better,” she admitted, running her fingers down the shimmersilk ribbon, “they won’t die when I forget to water them.”

“Well, there is that.” He cast around for something else to say, some reason to delay his departure, noted the dark circles beneath her eyes, and decided he really ought to let her get some sleep. “I guess I should…”

“Anakin?” she asked, looking up at him; her voice small and uncertain, “why did you really do all of this?”

Anakin dug down deep for all the courage he could find, stepped up to Tahiri and raised his hand to cup her face. He willed his arm not to shake as his fingers touched the soft skin of her cheek, tried to put aside the memory of the last time he’d done so, and instead think of the thousands of times he’d touched her before that.

“Like I said; I wanted to do something nice for you. It’s not nearly what you deserve, and I know it’s long overdue…”

Tahiri continued to look at him, her eyes wide and pleading. She seemed to be waiting to hear more, seemed like she wanted to hear more; so he kept going - he took another step forward, lifted his other hand to caress her jaw, silently thanked the Force, and the stars, and any deity that might actually exist because she hadn't flinched or pulled away, and he kept going.

“I did it because I love you, and I miss you, and I really want to come home.”

Two tears fell from her eyes and slid down her cheeks, and Anakin leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead, then her temple, then dropped his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “Forty-two my love, forty-two,” because what no one else knew, what no one else could possibly understand, was that ‘forty-two’ wasn't just a reference to their ‘supposed’ marriage, it wasn't just a long standing joke, or a hammer to beat his mother over the head with. ‘Forty-two’ was a way for a boy who was never good with words to tell the girl he adored all that she was to him.

‘Forty-two’ meant ‘I love you’, ‘I need you’; ‘I’m incomplete without you’. ‘Forty-two’ was a reminder. ‘Forty-two’ was a promise. And as Anakin stood there, holding Tahiri's face in his hands, completely open to her in the Force, ‘forty-two’ was an apology; a plea for forgiveness for all the pain he had caused her, and an oath to never let it happen again.

When Tahiri opened herself to him, nodded her head, and reached up to touch her lips to his, ‘forty-two’ was acceptance, absolution, and the beginning of a new life.


Magnet And Steel/Walter Egan

 

Ok, so I opened this thread last night and read the prologue and first chapter, thought this could be great, bookmarked it, and closed it out.

Not two minutes later, I opened it back up and spent the next hour and a half reading the rest of it. Sorry for all the reactions I'm going to post now, but that's what happens when you read 13 chapters at once.

This is a wonderful, wonderful story. The writing is very polished, which I really appreciated, and the characterization is wonderful, especially for Anakin and Tahiri. I've loved those characters since JJK and was thrilled when they got together in NJO. Anakin's death was one of the most powerful parts of the series, and SbS has to be about the only decent work Troy Denning has done in the old EU. One of the worst parts of the EU for me, after Mara's death, was how the writers treated Tahiri, and it pretty much started with Dark Journey. Probably the most poignant part of your story for me was the simple fact that no one noticed Tahiri's miscarriage in the original time line. This seems like a very realistic missing piece of the whole story, and it's a brilliant addition.

The reactions of Anakin's family, especially Leia, really made me uneasy, and I think that's a good thing. Everyone (including me) writes these major characters as pretty much benevolent and loving at all times. We might throw in snark from Mara or some measure of guile from Han, but it's almost always ultimately positive. The stark difference in Leia's reaction to Anakin's "death" here compared to Jacen's "death" in canon Legends is what struck me most, and it bothered me at first, but on reflection it's completely plausible. In SbS, she had the opportunity to sense Anakin's death first, and that allowed her to believe Jacen was still alive. This time around, she doesn't get that. And everyone but Tahiri seems to have forgotten that in Star Wars, if you don't physically see someone die, there's no way they're actually dead.

I hope there's a lot more. As a Mara specialist, I'm really intrigued by her reactions throughout the story so far, and I keep expecting her to finally snap and put Leia and Luke in their proper places. Tahiri may have been lucky enough to find her best friend and lover early in her life, while Mara had to wait a long time, but Mara should recognize a lot of what Tahiri's gone through in her own background, and I keep waiting for her to realize it.

Kudos on a superb story.

Edit: I also hope we haven't seen the last of old Tahiri. She deserves to finally find some happiness.

 

#12: Wonderful. Actions do speak louder than words. The Celchus and Antilles can tell Anakin's really, really remorseful, as can Paloma, who would call him out if he were deceitful paticularly when it came to Will. Doubtless her good word in his behalf convinced Tahiri that he could watch Will while she was away.

#13: Oh SQUEEEEEE! A perfect song for a perfect chapter! The small talk, the sincerity, the gentleness and consideration he shows to her and her receptiveness.
One of the bestest reconciliation start chapters ever!

 

Good Morning ... Afternoon All.

I'd like to thank you all for reading and liking and commenting. I must say, I'm still trying to get used to the new structure around here. Back in the day we only knew if someone read by posts and replies - I'm digging this whole liking and board views thing! Unfortunately, since I can see who is reading I can't think you by name, only generically, but that does not diminish my gratitude.




Stone Jade
Hello and thank you for reading. And really, really thank you for leaving comments. That is greatly appreciated.

Ok, so I opened this thread last night and read the prologue and first chapter, thought this could be great, bookmarked it, and closed it out. Not two minutes later, I opened it back up and spent the next hour and a half reading the rest of it. Sorry for all the reactions I'm going to post now, but that's what happens when you read 13 chapters at once.
That makes me ridiculously happy! Not that I may have pulled you away from something else, but that my ideas and writing sparked your interest enough to make you think about it and brought you back, and I appreciate you taking the time to tell me.

This is a wonderful, wonderful story. The writing is very polished, which I really appreciated, and the characterization is wonderful, especially for Anakin and Tahiri. I've loved those characters since JJK and was thrilled when they got together in NJO. Anakin's death was one of the most powerful parts of the series, and SbS has to be about the only decent work Troy Denning has done in the old EU. One of the worst parts of the EU for me, after Mara's death, was how the writers treated Tahiri, and it pretty much started with Dark Journey. Probably the most poignant part of your story for me was the simple fact that no one noticed Tahiri's miscarriage in the original time line. This seems like a very realistic missing piece of the whole story, and it's a brilliant addition.
I’m running out of ways to say thank you! I worked very hard to make sure that all the characters’ actions and dialogue had a reason, and I had an extraordinarily talented and polished editor (Beta Boy) whose love for Tahiri rivals my own, so he was really good about quizzing me on why I was doing things. I started reading the NJO because I loved Mara in the first Thrawn books and heard she wound up marrying Luke. It was then that I came across Tahiri and then the JJK books, which I read to my kids. I’m a hardcore Tahiri fan girl and was so heartbroken over how her character was written in Canon/Legends so that’s how this story got started.


The reactions of Anakin's family, especially Leia, really made me uneasy, and I think that's a good thing. Everyone (including me) writes these major characters as pretty much benevolent and loving at all times. We might throw in snark from Mara or some measure of guile from Han, but it's almost always ultimately positive. The stark difference in Leia's reaction to Anakin's "death" here compared to Jacen's "death" in canon Legends is what struck me most, and it bothered me at first, but on reflection it's completely plausible. In SbS, she had the opportunity to sense Anakin's death first, and that allowed her to believe Jacen was still alive. This time around, she doesn't get that. And everyone but Tahiri seems to have forgotten that in Star Wars, if you don't physically see someone die, there's no way they're actually dead.
As you may have noticed – this is a repost. I originally wrote this story in 2009 and posted over 30 weeks between June and Jan 2010. I had the story largely worked out and about have written before I started posting - mostly because I did not finish the epic story I’d started a few years before, and am still regretting and struggling with that, and didn’t want to be a disappointment again. The funny thing is I got major flak from a few people regarding how I characterized H, L&L. I was told off for painting Leia as unfeeling and mean, Luke as floundering and Han as cowing to Leia. It got so bad at one point that I went back through my notes and thought about maybe changing some stuff, but then decided not to because the whole point of why I write fan fic is to look at different emotional and psychological possibilities that we haven’t seen in profic.

Since the reason I’m reposting this story is to try to get the writing juices flowing again I signed up for a writing challenge and I'm thinking of making Han and Leia’s perspective during this story the center of that challenge – in order to show more of what they were thinking and what led to their actions here.

I hope there's a lot more. As a Mara specialist, I'm really intrigued by her reactions throughout the story so far, and I keep expecting her to finally snap and put Leia and Luke in their proper places. Tahiri may have been lucky enough to find her best friend and lover early in her life, while Mara had to wait a long time, but Mara should recognize a lot of what Tahiri's gone through in her own background, and I keep waiting for her to realize it.

Counting the prologue and epilogue - there are 30 chapters/sections. I will probably post 14 and 15 today - so we're about half way through. Since I’m just going through and dealing with basic typos and little sentence structure changes and deleting markup code issues (that’s how long ago I posted this or was active on the boards! We had to put in our own markup codes!) it shouldn't take too long for me to get the whole story up. Well, with work, travel and two kids… my idea of ‘not too long’ may differ from other peoples though.
As for Mara – as much as I love her – I’ve really only written her in small bits. I’m not sure why – other than to say that a) since I’m a Tahiri junkie most of my story ideas pop up with her at the center and b) Mara is so complex and has the potential to be so kick-ass – I’d never want to post anything that wasn't super true to that. Does that make sense? So she will continue to be only a bit player here, I hope that doesn't detract from your enjoyment.

Kudos on a superb story.

Thank you again! I’m am so excited that you are enjoying it.

Edit: I also hope we haven't seen the last of old Tahiri. She deserves to finally find some happiness.

Since you didn’t join the boards until years after I posted this – I’m going to assume you don’t know how it ends and keep my mouth shut and whether Older Tahiri makes any more appearances.



Nyota’s Heart

Hello and thank you again!


#11: Wow, just wow! I'm literally at a loss for words, which happens not often, at all!

Given you are my most prolific commenter, that does not surprise me!


I love that you give us both sides - how he (and also she) assumes a great deal about what the other person wants and doesn't. Funny that a child of a Solo and an Organa both would have a difficult time making sure the other person knew how they felt and making sure in turn they hadn't gotten their signals crossed. Although now that I think of the erm intresting style of communicating in ANH and ESB -

As I alluded to in my response to Jade above – the whole reason I got into fan fic was to see/read/write what I wasn't getting from profic. As awesome as the world is, as good as the books are in a lot of respects, I personally like deep, rich, complex characterizations. I like meaty stew. And, one of my favorite ways to write situations in fic is to do the same scene from different perspectives to highlight that just because two people are witnessing the same event does not mean that they process it the same way – that how we process things stems from how all the stimuli in our lives has shaped our psyches. So yeah – even though one might think that an Organa/Solo spawn might be able to communicate… take a good look at profic – none of those kids were great with communicating.


It's only natural that Will would have a sense of who's that with Anakin, the lack of familiarity etc. But Anakin interprets that as rejection.

Poor Anakin. But seriously – I simply could not write this story as Anakin comes back and everything is instantly hunky dory. That just smacked of what irritated me about profic. While Anakin was away Tahiri has had to build a life, and I can’t imagine how that would be an easy transition, even without the war going on around them. Oh and – hello!!! PTSD anyone? One of the things I found so crazy about profic was no one addressing that with Jacen coming back in Destiny’s way. And then they scratched their head’s over his control issues and going Dark? Hence my making A and T work for it.


In other rocky romance fics, the bridge came in one because the main character was in therapy and knew straight up from counseling that he'd better get his act together and his lady told him without equivocaition that she wasn't gonna take any mis-treatment.

Therapy – check. And yeah…Tahiri’s gonna give him the ‘figure your stuff out’ talk again soon.


In another, the crux came when a literal parting was imminent - so there had to be some opening up.

Ah yes… perspective.


Here, I don't remember what the bridge was -- I just know that with so many caring people around, there's gonna be one.

I’m gonna go with ‘All of the above’ for $500.


In the hands of a less-adept author, this all could become very LOL melodramatic, but you make it so realistic and the characters sympathetic even as they frustrate you.


That is high praise! Especially since I really didn’t want to make it melodramatic or corny. I love and respect these characters too much to make their situation trivial or silly. I was genuinely trying to do an exploration of legitimate issues and feelings – even if the universe itself is a little corny sometimes, the characters shouldn't be.




#13: Oh SQUEEEEEE! A perfect song for a perfect chapter! The small talk, the sincerity, the gentleness and consideration he shows to her and her receptiveness.
One of the bestest reconciliation start chapters ever!

Thank you!


Thank you all again! I'm working on the next post now so should have it up sooner rather than later.

Elle

 

Chapter 14​

​

Back To Life, Back To Reality​

30 ABY
Lusankya, Skako System, The Core

Tahiri titled her chin and let out a ragged breath, as her heart rate began to slow and her excitement began to ebb.

Anakin was pleased to feel her contentment as the brilliance of her passion began to fade while he lay a slow trail of kisses down her throat. Even after – according to Dr. Abay – the impressive number of times they’d made love, the fact that he could consistently elicit such a response often got him excited enough to go again.

But this time, another presence stopped him dead in his tracks. He rested the crown of his head where is mouth had just been and chuckled.

“Incoming…”

Tahiri let out another deep, throaty sigh. “At least he’s considerate enough to give us time to finish.”

“I’ve bribed him to stay in his crib until we’re done.” Anakin confessed, his own voice still rough.

“With what?” The sound of delight he knew so well had been replaced over the years by a deeper laugh, not a giggle as often, but the emotion was the same.

He pushed himself up slightly, so he could look into her eyes, and slowly traced a hand along her body; his fingers danced along her ribs, then slid down to her waist. She sighed again, and smiled up at him as she draped her arms around his neck, and he continued his manual exploration; waist to hip, hip to knee, knee to ankle, then tucked her leg tightly into his side.

“I told him I’d buy him his own X-Wing when he turns two, if he agreed to hang out in his crib every morning until I’ve finished ravaging ‘mama’.”

“And did you specify the size of the X-Wing you’d be buying him?” she asked, suspiciously.

“What are you, his lawyer?” he countered in disbelief. “I figured you’d be on my side!”

“Oh, I’m on your side,” she smiled wickedly, but then grew thoughtful, motherly. “You don’t think we’re doing any damage to him, do you?”

“If we are, I’m sure the MD droid will let you know.” Anakin teased.

Tahiri slapped his arm. “I’m being serious. What if he grows up and has memories of being bought off so we can…”

“Ravage each other?” He finished for her.

“Yeah. What if he feels neglected and that causes some kind of syndrome or something?”

“What parenting manual did you fall asleep reading last night?” Anakin asked, mockingly.

They’d had this conversation more than once, and for all the ways in which his wife was progressive, and unconventional, and a risk-taker, she was quite the opposite in her parenting. Anakin had actually wondered - though not aloud - if Shimmra’s fear of and interest in Will had simply provided Tahiri with a convenient excuse to have a military squad watching over their son around the clock. He sort of thought that she’d have found another reason had the Yuuzhan Vong not provided one for her.

Of course Anakin hadn't had to kill a man with his bare hands in order to protect Will weeks after his birth, so he kept his mouth shut and indulged her, only lightly mocked her, and had learned very quickly when and where he could poke fun.

Tahiri squinted at him, held her hand out, and called the nightgown Anakin had taken off of her a mere thirty minutes earlier up from the floor.

“Forgive me for not wanting to damage our son’s psyche.”

Anakin leaned back down, pinning her to the bed again, and began nipping at her throat in the very spot he’d left off, murmuring in between kisses, “Having parents who enjoy showing each other affection is not going to damage his psyche, and the last thing our son is is neglected.”

She pinched his ribs lightly, “Get off me and get dressed before he gets in here.”

“We've got time; he’s skulking.” But Anakin rolled onto his back anyway, and reached for the sleep pants on the floor beside the bed, pulling them on under the blanket.

“Do you think other parents have toddlers who skulk?” she wondered.

“I’m sure the MD droid can tell you.”

He laughed again, as Tahiri pulled his pillow out from under his head and whacked him with it.

She had her nightgown back on and was just lying down again when a mop of curly blonde hair appeared at the foot of their bed. Tahiri and Anakin both stifled laughs as their son ducked under the covers, climbed up onto the mattress, and slinked towards them; his young mind wholly unable to comprehend that they could see him when he couldn't see them.

The small body wiggled up the bed and popped out from under the blankets.

“Wiwl he-uh!” Will announced, sitting up on his knees and grinning happily.

“Good morning, Will of the Force.” Anakin greeted, pulling his boy to his chest for a hug. “Did you have a good night?”

“Goo nigh. Coow-kie por Wiwl?”

“No cookies before breakfast.” Tahiri informed, as she did every morning.

Will didn’t seem disappointed, more resigned, since they went through the same routine day after day and Tahiri had yet to relent. Will was as stubborn as his mother though so Anakin knew his son wasn't going to stop asking, just like he knew his wife wasn't going to stop saying no.

If Will ever ratted him out, ever let Tahiri know that Anakin gave him tons of cookies before breakfast when she wasn't there, he’d be in serious trouble.

“C’mon, big guy.” Anakin said, throwing back the covers and scooping Will up into his arms, “let’s see what we can scrounge up; maybe if we bring mama breakfast in bed she’ll lighten up and let us have cookies.”

Anakin laughed again, and ducked out the bedroom door just as a pillow came sailing towards him.

​

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

​

​

​

Anakin lay sprawled out on the sofa in the living area, a data pad in one hand, Tahiri’s very large cup of caf in the other, happily watching his wife and son crawling around on the floor, laughing and squealing. They were playing a game they both loved; Will would hide behind various pieces of furniture, Tahiri would pretend she had no idea where he was, then she’d catch him and smoother him with kisses until they were both breathless, so glad that she’d finally found him again.

Besides the data pad in Anakin’s hand, more data pads lay on the floor nearby; one was a translation Tahiri was working on; boring…. One was the morning’s Fleet Watch; nothing terribly interesting there, given that the military refused to publish anything that had ever been classified; Anakin had discarded it in favor of the data pad Tahiri’s Intel assistant had delivered a short time ago. It contained the notes from the meetings she hadn't attended yesterday because she’d been working at her other job; being Anakin’s XO.

They’d quit fighting about him reading her ‘Class II and above clearance only’ documents months ago. He’d reasoned that surely Wedge and Tycho were reading their wives reports, and besides, a lot of the information in those reports pertained to Tahiri and Will and the Yuuzhan Vong’s dangerous obsession with them. Anakin felt he had every right to know what the crazy scarheads were saying about his family.

Anakin took a sip from the cup and grimaced slightly. He didn’t know why he bothered - his body wouldn't have been able to absorb many nutrients from the liquid if it had nutrients to offer, and he didn’t particularly love the taste. He supposed it made him feel human and adult - to sip caf in the morning while catching up on current events. He tried not to spend too much time thinking about the psychology behind it; that was Dr. Abay’s job; figuring out the psychology behind all of Anakin’s behavior. Or, at least that’s what Anakin told himself.

Will climbed onto the sofa and Anakin turned onto his side, making room for his son to lean against his stomach, as Tahiri put a vid in the holoplayer; an ‘educational vid’, the only kind Will was allowed to watch. This one would be teaching him the aurebesh in Basic. Knowing Tahiri, she’d have him reading and writing in several languages by the time he was three.

Anakin didn’t need Dr. Abay’s help to understand the psychology behind that.

Though Tahiri would surely have scored at genius level or above if Luke had ever tested his Praxeum students for such things, though she was as bright as or brighter than anyone Anakin knew, she’d been illiterate when they’d met.

The moment Tahiri realized that all the other candidates in her and Anakin’s Academy class knew and understood the written code that corresponded to the Basic language, and she didn’t, extreme shame and embarrassment had set in. Anakin had tried to soothe her, to reason with her; that had been a joke. He tried to tell her that having been raised in the desert by nomads with no access to formal education, computers, the holonet… of course she wouldn't know how to read or write, and, in actuality, the sophistication of her vocabulary was amazing, considering she hadn't had anyone to speak to in Basic since she’d been a tiny girl.

None of that had made her feel any better.

By her third week on Yavin Four, Tahiri’s private lessons with Tionne simply weren’t getting the job done fast enough as far as she was concerned, so Anakin had taken it upon himself to tutor her during their free time; when they weren’t sneaking off to try to solve the riddle of the Golden Globe, that is.

Reading proved fairly easy for Tahiri once she got a handle on the aurebesh itself. Writing legibly was harder; it took them weeks to figure out that she was left handed, then a few more for Anakin to figure out how to teach her to hold a stylus using her left hand. Because she was a perfectionist, because she wanted to know how to do everything and hated to be slowed down by the time it took to actually learn how to do it (a trait they were both guilty of possessing) Tahiri’s frustration level was on high for quite a while. When she burst into tears at one point, Anakin remarked that if she’d cried this much on Tatooine, her tribe shouldn't have had to move around very much in search of water.

He should have thought about that one for a while before letting it out, but he learned a valuable lesson himself that day, and he didn’t comment on her tears again for years.

What few people knew about Tahiri, one of the things that Anakin found most attractive about her, was that she was one of the most well-read people he knew. She read everything, anything; her greatest lament while stuck on Eclipse had been the lack of reading material she hadn't already plowed through. The interesting thing was that while she was innately curious enough, and read fast enough, to have already gone through a phenomenally wide range of topics by the time she was fifteen, not one had really grabbed and commanded her attention for any length of time. Where Anakin would read everything he could get his hands on that pertained to mechanical engineering, could lose himself for hours perusing the holonet for new information about ships and engines and flying, Tahiri simply hadn't found any one thing that really captured her interest.

Until Will.

She’d read more parenting advice and research than Anakin was comfortable with. Winter had actually told him at one point that Anakin’s timing was perfect; he couldn't have come back from the dead and gotten his act together at a better moment – he’d arrived on the scene just in time to prevent Tahiri from engaging in some of her less wise ideas. Thanks to his intervention, Will was not playing musical instruments, slicing computer programs, learning martial arts, mastering sign language, and doing quadratic equations before he could walk.

Anakin understood where Tahiri was coming from; she was trying to be the perfect parent. She was trying to be everything in a mother that she hadn't had, she was trying give her son every advantage, trying to pour every ounce of love and attention into Will that Cassa hadn't had the opportunity to pour into her, and dammit, she was going to make sure Will never caught a cold while she was doing it.

Tahiri’s neurosis would have been a little much to bear, were it not for how sweet she was about it, or how sweet she was with Will. Some of Anakin’s favorite memories, scenes that would play in his mind’s eye as long as he lived, were of Tahiri and Will - her rocking him, nursing him, reading to him, playing on the floor with him, the absolute delight she took in every developmental milestone he conquered. Whatever faults she might have, whatever issues they as a couple had needed to address, and were still working on, the one thing that no one could possibly find fault with in Tahiri was her mothering.

Anakin had also sat Tahiri down shortly after they’d gotten back together and assured her that they’d have Will slicing, dicing, kicking, and programming jumps, all while singing at the top of his lungs, well before he started school. She had absolutely nothing to worry about, because where Tahiri wanted Will to have all the love and support she hadn't had as a child, Anakin wanted him to win.

Iella had summed them up succinctly by announcing that they were totally average parents.

Once she had Will’s vid started, Tahiri crawled over to the sofa, then stood up on her knees and stole her data pad out of Anakin’s hands with a wide grin.

“Hey,” he protested.

“Hey yourself. I don’t remember you being given clearance, and I need to get some work done before we fly today.” She leaned forward and kissed him, then pulled back just far enough to give him a saucy grin and purred, “I’ll make it up to you later.”

Anakin’s grin was just as saucy. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Hmmmmm… As long as you hold me, you can do anything you like to me.”

Anakin leaned forward and gave her another kiss, and smiled against her lips when he felt a small chubby arm go around his neck.

He opened his eyes and smiled wider to see his son’s little round face looming next to his and Tahiri’s, cheeks nearly pressed to theirs; knew the matching small chubby arm would be wrapped around his wife’s neck.

Will had no interest in being left out of any loving.

“Mama Dada wuwv Wiwl too,” he instructed.

Anakin and Tahiri both laughed, then turned their mouths toward Will’s cheeks and neck and peppered their son with kisses and raspberries, both holding onto his body when he began to squirm and shriek from their onslaught.

Finally, Tahiri stopped, and drew back. “Enough,” she told Anakin when she could talk. “If we don’t let him breathe we might kill some brain cells.”

Anakin laughed again. “That’s okay. I gave him genius DNA, he’s got brain cells to spare.”

Tahiri rolled her eyes and swatted him on the head, then picked up the dropped data pad and turned around to sit, leaning her back against the couch, relaxing.

Anakin settled back on his side, and pulled Will into his stomach.

Will giggled delightedly at something the Gungan on his vid was doing, and Anakin wondered mildly if a Gungan was the right species to be teaching his son about diction and grammar. Then he rubbed a hand over Will’s head, and watched him stick a piece of fruit Tahiri had given him into his mouth and chew happily, lips wide apart, smiling in glee, drool dripping slowly down his chin.

Will still had not had any cookies yet this morning - at least, not any that Tahiri knew about.

Anakin took a breath, draped his arm across Tahiri’s chest, cupped her shoulder in his palm, drew his knees up a little further, bringing Will in slightly closer, and cherished the moment; committed it to memory. He inhaled the smells around him, memorized the emotions and the sights; the expressions on his son’s face.

He was having another one of those moments; he was standing on a precipice again, he could feel it. Not only would he be able to mark time by what came before and after this lazy morning, but he also knew that this would be the last lazy morning that the three of them would share for quite some time. He wasn't sure exactly what was going to happen, he wasn't sure what his role in what was coming would be, but decisions were about to be made – many by him. These few minutes alone with Tahiri and Will were a respite; some of the first few he and Tahiri had shared in weeks that he hadn't allowed to be marred by the tension brought on by his worry over what lay right before him.

He knew that the end was coming, the uncertainty that was crushing down on him, the two questions that were distracting him to the point that his wife had started issuing threats and ultimatums, were; what would his part in the final battle be, and would he be around to enjoy the peace when all was said and done.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

​

​

Anakin stared into space – literally; watched the millions of pinpricks through the canopy of his X-Wing, as he thought.

Some more.

He’d handed control of the squad over to Tahiri, had her running his pilots through drills and maneuvers. She was the one sending them out on sweeps of the neighboring systems in wing pairs, marking off sectors and reporting back to command; he was kriffing off.

At least, that’s what it looked like.

In reality, what he was doing was trying to figure out what to do with the next several days of his life, and it was actually Tahiri who had told him to do this; take this time while he floated in space, while he had no distractions; no calls to take, no meetings to attend, no reports to sign, no pilots to coach or teach, no sons to play with, no wives to seduce…

In reality, Tahiri had told him to take this time to figure his miserable self out or she’d send him packing again. She’d done it twice – “don’t think I won’t do it again, Anakin Solo,” had been her exact words.

In reality, she had been as miserable during their separations as he’d been, and she was not going to send him packing anytime soon, but out of respect for her, and a sense of self-preservation, he had decided that now, at this particular moment, the moment that Tahiri had decided was the right one, was the moment he would spend doing it.

And what he was doing, what his wife had informed him he was to do, was prepare himself mentally and emotionally for his family’s arrival and all that their arrival would bring with it.

From the first night they had sat in his room on Eclipse with Older Tahiri and begun to make the plans that would alter what came before, Anakin and Tahiri had assumed that there would come a point when they would no longer be able to use the other woman’s experiences and information. They’d assumed that the outcome of the Voxyn mission had changed enough, so that most of her knowledge would no longer be relevant, but apparently, destiny was a hard thing to shake.

In Older Tahiri’s time it had been Vergere who had related stories of the sentient planet, strong in the Force, to a captive Jacen. Jacen, in turn, had relayed the stories to a captivated Luke, and the two, with Mara and a few others in tow, had abandon the war effort and set out for the Unknown Regions, in search of the elusive.

When Anakin had tackled Alema and used her longblaster to blow Vergere to the great beyond, he’d thought he’d done more than just spare his brother months in the Embrace of Pain and eventual Sithdom; he’d thought he’d spared the Jedi from The Great Potentium Debate.

No such luck.

The day Tahiri learned that the Skywalkers were planning a mission to locate a planet that wasn't charted in any system the GA had mapped – she and Anakin were dumbfounded. When they’d realized that his aunt and uncle were thought to be heading toward the Unknown Regions, they were astounded. When yet another group of Shamed Ones surrendered, asking to be taken to a planet thought to be their race’s primordial home, a planet that Shimmra seemed to fear, Anakin and Tahiri stared at each other for some time, open mouthed, then fell to the floor, laughing hysterically. ‘Hysterically’ being the operative word, of course.

Days later, sources Tahiri trusted informed her that Jacen had had a ‘vision’ and that Luke was so desperate for a way to win the war, was so desperate for a non-violent Jedi solution, that he was more than happy to follow his nephew’s lead.

The irony was gut wrenching; every Jedi, friend of the Jedi, acquaintance of the Jedi, who had set foot on Wedge’s ship in the last year had spent at least a few minutes lecturing Anakin about the Dark Side. Stories of his temper tantrum were infamous, tales of his and Tahiri’s initial separation had made the rounds; evidently there wasn't anyone in the universe who didn’t know that he’d assaulted his wife or that she’d kicked him out. What everyone assumed was that his anger at his family and the Yuuzhan Vong was threatening to lead him down a dark path.

The irony was that all those Jedi who’d lectured him oh so recently were now singing the praises of Zonama Sekot, reveling in its enlightened theories, embracing the full spectrum of their own emotions because according to Zonama Sekot, or rather Sekot, the planet’s ‘intelligence’, there was no Dark Side.

If only Grandpa had known.

If there was one person in the galaxy, still alive, who would have benefited from the ‘shades of gray’ concept - if for no other reason than that he’d not have to listen to the damn lectures anymore - it was Anakin, and yet he’d actively worked to keep Zonama Sekot’s existence under wraps. It was the people who had always clung to the rigidity of Dark and Light who were running to the Potentium and embracing it the strongest.

This hypocrisy was feeding into the anger Anakin already felt toward his family and the rest of the Order, and it was making it difficult for Anakin to make decisions about the issues that he now faced. And the issues that he now faced, the ones that had been keeping him up at night and what had made him cranky enough to elicit threats from Tahiri were: did they use the rest of what Older Tahiri gave them to bring about an end to the war; and if so, how did they go about doing that without the Jedi finding out about flow walking, his brother becoming a Sith, or him losing his temper and just shooting them all?

More importantly in the next couple of days; what did Anakin say when his uncle asked him to be a part of the team he knew would be launching an assault on Shimmra himself? Or, what did he do if Luke did not ask Anakin to join them?

Anakin had gone back and forth about this; did he want to be on the ground with the Jedi - with his family - or in the air with his squad, the family he’d built and trusted more? Was he shirking his duty to the galaxy by hiding in a fighter instead of marching into Shimmra’s throne room and risking his life by trying to take out Omini? Was he shirking his duty to his wife and child by marching into Shimmra’s throne room and risking his life by trying to take out Omini?

Was he going against the will of the Force by manipulating the situation in order to plant himself in front of Omini if the opportunity didn’t present itself on its own?

A few nights ago, when Tahiri had found him in the living room, again, gazing out at the stars, so lost in thought it took her a full minute to get his attention, he’d broken down and told her how scared he was, how lost he felt, that he didn’t know what the right choice was and that he was afraid of making the wrong one.

Tahiri had sat down behind him, pulled him against her chest, held him, kissed away his tears, and told him how much she loved him, admired him and respected him. She told him that she trusted him to make the right choice, not just the one he could live with, and that she understood that this was bigger, and far more important, than just them; and he was reminded, again, of why he had known, even at sixteen, that she was the one.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

​

​

​

Anakin’s attention was grabbed by the sound of bells and pings, and the sight of his comm board lighting up. The sensor display showed sixteen contacts: the fighters of his squad, the massive Lusankya, and three ‘friendlies’, small ships that were running an Alliance transponder, but didn’t have the encrypted identification of the vessels in Wedge’s fleet. Tahiri, the Lusankya, and one of the ‘friendlies’ were all hailing him.

He threw switches, gave Tycho the go ahead to speak, and listened distractedly as he pulled his flight gloves off with his teeth and pressed a series of buttons on his wrist chrono- answering Tahiri, who he knew had pulled off her own gloves in order to hail him from her own wrist chrono.

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m assuming you feel them?” she asked, referring to the ‘friendlies’; Jaina and Jacen and whoever it was who was flying with them.

“Of course. And one of them is calling me.”

“Who’s the third? A cousin you've never told me about?”

There was humor in her voice, and Anakin could tell she was trying to keep his spirits up, distract him from his dread.

“You never know in this family. Relatives do have a way of popping up out of nowhere.”

“Well, play nice. We may need cannon fodder in a few days.”

“You’re cute.”

“I know. We've got Yuuzhan Vong poking around that need to be taken care of so why don’t you go initiate your siblings, make sure they know who not to shoot, and give them the coordinates.”

Anakin listened distractedly as Tycho gave him and Tahiri the information that they needed for the jump to the sector the Vong had just dropped into, while various voices of his squad members began to filter into his conscious. They were all weighing in with comments about him and Tahiri, wondering aloud what they were doing, what they were talking about that they’d feel the need to speak privately, not include them; as though Anakin and Tahiri couldn't possibly have anything to say to each other that the rest of them shouldn't be a part of.

”Lead and Two are ignoring us again.”

“They’re talking on those super cool wrist comms Anakin made for them.”

“I think that was an anniversary present for her.”

“Wow, what a romantic guy.”

“Aren't we supposed to be jumping?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna ambush some Vong.”

“You know Tahiri’s not be paying attention, or she’d vape you for that.”

“I think they’re discussing dinner. Anakin’s begging her not to make stew again tonight. You know how he feels about meals he has to chew less than twenty times per bite.”

“Nah… he’s begging her not to cook.”

“I’m sure he’s begging her to do something.”

“To wear black to bed again.”

“She wears clothes to bed?”

“Yeah… she just doesn't sleep in them.”

Anakin wasn't sure, but he thought the each of his pilots had made at least one comment.

“You know,” he cut in, “just because you can’t hear us, doesn't mean we can’t hear you.”

A chorus of ‘Sorry Lead’ came next and he grinned.

They were as devoted a bunch as he could have asked for; they were, in fact, the family Tahiri had said he was trying to build. He had to pretend to be put out - it was part of the game - but he knew, could feel, and was shown every day and in so many ways, that his squadron respected him and his relationship with Tahiri. That was really all he needed, they could tease all they wanted after that.

Switching back to his wrist comm, and his conversation with Tahiri, he scrambled for where he’d left off with her – initiating… know who to shoot…

Anakin smiled again. “If Jacen’s so bad he doesn't know who not to shoot in a furball I should switch his designation on the heads up display and let these guys have him.”

“I’m all for shooting your brother, but Jaina’s a good pilot, try to keep her intact, and if my guess is right, that’s Fel with her, and he’s a very good pilot.” Anakin heard the clicking of buttons as she sent the coordinates to the rest of the squad. “I guess I’ll take the kids over and get your party going.”

“You almost sound reluctant to start a fight. Where’s the real Tahiri? What have you done with my wife?”

“Oh, it’s me. If you’re a good boy, I’ll prove it by letting you inspect me later.”

He reached with the Force, reached for his best friend, his partner, drew in the comfort she was offering, and tried to relax. “I’ll get the twins and their friend and join you in a minute. Be careful. Make sure there’s still something for me to inspect when this is over.” He watched as his pilots began to make the jump, watched as, one by one, his squad took off to take out the invaders.

“Alright, but don’t keep me waiting too long, Hero-boy.”

“I won’t... Tahiri, I love you.”

“I love you too, Anakin. Now get a move on. Being all gooey and romantic is wonderful, but I’d prefer we get this over with and get home so you can do it there.”

“Yes, my love. Good hunting. I’ll see you soon.”


Flipping more switches on his comm board, Anakin opened up another channel, took a deep breath and said, “You picked a great time to pay us a visit, Twin Suns. I hope your lasers are charged and you’re ready to jump. We've got some scarheads to vape.”



Back To Life (However Do You Want Me)/Beresford Romeo, Simon Law, Nellie Hooper

 

#14: Oh delicious! Wonderful family moments! So tender and full of laughter!

when I read that this was another crossroads personally and otherwise.

I can just believe very well that (particularly after the last time) Anakin does not want to make a wrong choice, and it's not always that you individually make one, it's circumstances you can't possibly anticipate that makes your choice have less-than-desirable consequences.

 

Hello Nyota's Heart Thank you for the review.

#14: Oh delicious! Wonderful family moments! So tender and full of laughter!
Thank you. I figured A&T needed a break and some loving.

when I read that this was another crossroads personally and otherwise.
Yeah well... The story isn't finished yet...

I can just believe very well that (particularly after the last time) Anakin does not want to make a wrong choice, and it's not always that you individually make one, it's circumstances you can't possibly anticipate that makes your choice have less-than-desirable consequences.


Exactly! And he will have to deal with a lot of emotions and nudges in order to handle what's in store.

More coming soon.

Elle

 

Chapter 15​

​

I’m Always Touched By Your Presence Dear​

Jaina approached her brother, with Jacen and Jag in tow. Before they could reach him however a mass of people and machines converged on him; his position becoming a hub of activity before her eyes.

A rolling computer terminal/workstation, tall enough to use while standing up, was wheeled to his side. A tall droid approached with it, taking up sentry behind Anakin as pilots jumped out of fighters and mechanics flocked to ships.

Anakin lazily unzipped the top of his flight suit, pulling his arms out of the sleeves and letting them fall to his sides before scrubbing a hand through his hair.

Jaina was amused to realize that he’d grown since she’d seen him last, and was now probably a good several centimeters taller than Jacen and their father. It wasn't unheard of for young men to have a final growth spurt in their late teens, but somehow the idea that Anakin had continued to grow into his twenties, continued to grow after Myrkr, seemed amazing. He’d also bulked up a bit, thankfully. He wasn't large, by any stretch of the imagination—in fact, as Jaina got closer to him, she had to fight the urge to run back to her ship for a ration bar; he could certainly stand to gain a few kilos, but his arms and chest were muscular, and the rest of his body was nowhere near as painfully thin as it’d been fifteen months ago. The thing Jaina was happiest to note though was that his color was good, he looked healthy; there was no trace of that horrible jaundiced pallor he’d woken with.

She saw him shift his body slightly, as if deliberately adding himself to the throng of beings and machines blocking Jaina’s view of the droid behind him; but she caught sight of the back of Anakin’s shirt lifting, and his slight grimace. Jaina wondered what the droid was for, and if it was the cause of his frown. Could there still be something wrong with him that he’d need a med droid standing by as he climbed out of his fighter? She got the impression that she wasn't supposed to have caught the droid’s movement, or Anakin’s reaction, and also caught – felt - that commenting on the droid’s presence would be a huge mistake.

As she reached him, got within a few meters and he finally saw her, he lifted his chin slightly. “Hey.”

His greeting wasn't exactly warm, no warmer than his initial greeting in space had been, but it also wasn't the cold reception that she’d feared.

“Hey. Nice flying,” she offered in return. “Your squad’s pretty impressive.”

“Ah, you know how to soften up the locals. Keep talking, they love being told how good they are.”

“Apparently we need to soften them up; almost got our heads taken off by your security team when we popped the canopies.”

Jaina was referring to the group of soldiers who had held her, Jacen and Jag at blaster point in the neighboring hangar when they’d landed. One of the men, Bram, she recognized as the lead commando who had accompanied Tahiri to the medical frigate when Anakin had been found, and though she was sure he knew who they were, it had still taken calls to flight control, bodily pat downs, droids going over their ships, much discussion over whether or not to confiscate lightsabers, blasters, and charrics, and finally, she suspected, an okay from Anakin himself, before he’d allowed them to set foot inside Anakin’s personal hangar.

Evidently ‘Lambent Three’ was somewhere on deck and the guards were on high alert.

Jaina hadn't seen Three’s tracker during the engagement and she wondered who he was, why he required such insane security. Since Anakin’s squadron was technically an Intel group—military, but not regular navy, their roster classified, their hangar and quarters off limits to anyone without proper clearance—Jaina didn’t even know who was in his squad. She wanted to assume that the reception she had received was typical, not some kind of punishment handed out just for her and Jacen. But she wasn't sure.

“Oh, yeah,” Anakin acknowledged dryly, “Bram’s not fond of strangers.”

No one commented on the fact that Bram had met Anakin’s siblings and already knew who they were, or that Anakin had been notified—was supposed to have been notified—that Jaina and Jacen would be arriving soon.

Silence followed Anakin’s comment, a long silence. Just as it was threatening to make Jaina squirm, Jacen spoke up.

“Your Two is quite a flyer.”

Anakin smiled tightly, “Outstanding XO too, among other things.”

There was something in the way Anakin said that that made Jaina think that Anakin wasn't particularly happy with Two, probably because of the insane move Two had pulled to help Jacen out when his S-foils had locked open. If Two hadn't helped Jacen wouldn't have made the jump back to the Lusankya with the rest of the group when the third Vong unit had dropped in on them, and Jaina would be less one brother – again.

“I’ll need to thank him.” Jacen continued.

“Well, you’re about to get your opportunity,” Anakin called over the loud thrum of repulsors as an X-Wing touched down delicately - a landing that would have brought a tear to Wedge Antilles’ eye - practically on top of them. A wing nearly touched Jag’s head – which surely would have brought a tear to Han Solo’s eye.

Anakin’s smile turned smug as the snub’s canopy rose; the ‘I can’t wait to see the look on your face’ smirk she remembered from childhood, and Jaina suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she put it together; Anakin hadn't named his squadron the Lambents, they were Lumbont Squadron. Lumbont; Forty in Yuuzhan Vong.

Lumbont two.

Tahiri.

They just weren’t going to let that die.

Jaina looked up just as her ‘sister-in-law’ dropped her helmet onto her seat; watched her strip off her chest plate and her standard issue orange flight vac suit, leaving her in just a pair of trim cargo pants and shirtsleeves, then vault over the side of her ship, hitting the hangar floor lightly. Her flaxen hair was shiny and bouncing – looking slightly windblown, not sweaty and matted to her head the way it ought to look after hours tucked into a helmet. She also had a wide grin on her face, her perfect teeth white and sparkling.

She looked like a military recruitment add and Jaina wanted to kick her – or go take a shower.

“Hello, Jaina, Colonel Fel, good to see you. Jacen, how’re those S-foils?”

“You’re Lambent Two?” Jacen gaped, and Jaina wished should could reach over and flick her twin’s jaw closed; wished Jacen would get it through his thick skull that they were going to have to play nice with Tahiri if they ever wanted to smooth things over with their brother.

“Lumbont, actually.” She explained, “It’s a common mistake, though. And what? You didn’t think I could learn to fly an X-Wing? Your brother’s an excellent teacher, if you ever want pointers.” He continued to stare at her until Tahiri’s grin turned to a scowl.She shook her head dismissively; instructing; “I think ‘thank’ and ‘you’ are the words you’re looking for, Jacen.”

Jacen glared at her before finally gritting out, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, though I’m probably not going to feel that way when your brother gets me alone.”

Before she could elaborate on that comment, a Bith approached, and complimented, “nice move out there. Who was the idiot who couldn't get his S-foils closed?”

Anakin cleared his throat, though clearly amused, not embarrassed. “Moeller, meet Twin Suns Five, Jacen Solo.”

Jacen took it from there, still irritated, “The idiot who couldn't get his S-foils closed.”

Moeller gave Jacen the once over then turned back to Anakin. “Your dad only taught one of you to fly?”

“Two of us,” Jaina blurted out, before she’d had time to think, then felt sort of bad, and smiled shyly at Jacen.

Turning to Tahiri, Moeller handed her a data disk—his flight recording, Jaina assumed. “I so don’t want to be you when he gets you alone.”

“I never want to be her when he gets her alone,” a Quarren commented as he sidled up, depositing his own disk on the desk. He shivered and added, “he’s human,” as he gestured towards Anakin, making it clear he didn’t find Anakin attractive in any way.

Moeller swatted him on the head as they both walked away, saying, “She’s human too.”

Anakin and Tahiri ignored the two pilots, and turned to face each other for the first time since Tahiri’s arrival.

Anakin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her; she clasped her hands in front of herself and tilted her head to one side, lower lip jutted out in a contrite pout. He sighed and shook his head; she tilted hers in the other direction, and smiled sheepishly, gazing up from beneath her lashes. He closed his eyes for a long moment, pinched the bridge of his nose, then dropped his hands to his hips, opened his eyes, and blew out a long breath. Tahiri’s smile turned less sheepish as she lifted a hand up to run one finger from Anakin’s collar, down his chest to his waist, hooked her finger into his flight suit, pulled him forward, then lifted herself onto her toes, and playfully bit his chin before kissing it. He sighed again, dropped a kiss onto her forehead and finally spoke; “I don’t want to keep having this conversation.”

Before Tahiri could respond, a female Twi’lek, who’d walked up to stand behind her at the workstation, and was now rummaging through a stack of flimsy sheets, said; “You always say that,” and Jaina was slightly baffled to realize that a conversation had even taken place.

Tahiri ignored the Twi’lek, wrapped her arms around Anakin’s neck and apologized; “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“And you always say that,” the Twi’lek cut in again, then exclaimed accusingly, “I knew you had it!” She shook the flimsy she’d been searching for at Tahiri’s back, before marching off.

Tahiri laughed, then surprised Jaina by switching gears, becoming all business and calling out, “Alright, let’s get to work,” as she turned to face the computer terminal and began to type and feed disks into it. She glanced up, caught Jaina’s eye and nodded her head toward a couple of crash couches and old office chairs nearby and informed her; “You’re free to hang out, have a seat if you want, we take a while.”

Anakin stepped behind Tahiri, spread his feet wide apart so that he was standing only slightly taller than her, then brushed her hair to one side of her neck as she tilted her head for him and he rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. The action seemed entirely un-self-conscious, the two appeared oblivious to all that was going on around them as they whispered to each other and watched the monitor in front of them. Occasionally Anakin would point to the screen, Tahiri would ask questions; their conversation might have been typical of what any lead and XO would be discussing after an engagement or drill - if you didn’t count the affectionate pats and stolen kisses, or the teasing and mocking comments coming from their pilots and crew as they dropped off more disks and left more stacks of flimsy next to Tahiri’s elbow.

After more than an hour, in which time not a single pilot left the area Anakin and Tahiri were standing in, Anakin asked Tahiri for a total.

“Not counting the skips Fel and Jaina took out, ninety-two.”

“Alright,” Anakin said, mentally calculating with frightening speed; “Six for everyone, and an extra one for Eight, for boy duty.” Anakin patted Tahiri, low on her abdomen, then kissed her neck and continued, “and an extra one for you for this morning.”

“Mmmm… You’re the colonel, Colonel.”

Jaina felt her eyes widen, and her military sensibility snap to full attention. “You can’t do that.”

“I can’t do what?” Anakin asked, standing up straight and stepping out from behind Tahiri. “Reward my XO for a job well done?” One side of his mouth raised in a perfect Han Solo smirk before he asked, “How many men are lucky enough to have a wife who can micro-adjust repulsor pads? She did it all by herself today.”

Jaina’s mouth fell open and she ignored the repulsor pad ruse. Was he actually giving Tahiri kill credits for… no. She refused to bite; Anakin had to be teasing, but then she realized that he was serious about awarding the rest of the pilots equal kills when she knew they hadn't all earned them, and then ‘Eight’ got an extra kill for ‘boy duty’, whatever that was? Eight hadn't been on the tracker board either. What kind of circus was her brother running?

Ignoring the blatant reference to his and Tahiri’s sex life, she opted to complain about his blasé attitude toward protocol.

“You can’t just divide up kills and pass them out like sweets. You’re skewing the stats.”

“Oh,” Anakin breathed out, as though just understanding, “you would be referring to the military-wide competition amongst pilots to accumulate the most number of kills regardless of what the rest of their squad mates are accomplishing or, whether they are even surviving?”

Jaina crossed her arms and glared at her brother, who now had an elbow leaning on the top of the workstation—then caught sight of Tahiri flicking a switch on the forgotten droid that had been standing inert. She tried to hold Anakin’s gaze while still watching Tahiri as she pulled a small printout from the droid. The blonde girl read the flimsy and dropped it on her desk with everything else, and Jaina thought she’d go mad with curiosity.

“Yeah,” Anakin said, popping a cookie he’d just accepted from Tahiri into his mouth before he went on, “we don’t operate that way.”

Jaina continued to steam, was somewhat pleased to feel Jag also radiating indignation at Anakin’s lack of respect for naval record keeping. “What do you mean, you ‘don’t operate that way’? Kills are tracked for a reason…”

“Yes,” Anakin agreed, speaking with another cookie between his teeth, “To keep moral up and feed a pilot’s sense of accomplishment.”

“Exactly.” Jaina announced - then felt suddenly flustered by Anakin’s agreement.

Anakin looked thoughtful as he chewed and swallowed, then explained, “My squadron has the highest kill rate in the Third Fleet, one of the highest kill rates in the military. What difference does it make to anyone else how I distribute credit amongst my pilots? However I slice it up the kills still belong to us.”

“You’re giving kills to pilots who don’t deserve the credit, and depriving others of credit they do deserve.”

He chuckled, bit into another cookie, held one out to her, shrugged his shoulders when Jaina continued to glared at him, then asked; “How do you know who does or doesn't deserve credit?” There was humor in his voice, because, Jaina realized, he wasn't taking anything she was saying seriously. “You don’t know anything about my pilots, or how I lead, and… last I heard, you weren’t really military anymore, so I’m not sure why any of this should matter to you; but you’re welcome to keep watching while I work, maybe you’ll learn something. In case you ever decide to stop chasing spooking planets and rejoin the war effort instead of just shooting to save your own ass when you happen to fall into a firefight like you did today.”

Jaina bit down any retort about Zonama Sekot, or her inopportune arrival; assumed that if Anakin knew anything about the planet it was because, despite also being Anakin’s XO, Tahiri was still Intel; and thought if Anakin was going to be this antagonistic from the moment she walked in, before she’d even had a chance to do anything wrong, the rest of her stay was going to be brutal and Uncle Luke’s request was going to make matters worse. She was beginning to fear, again, that she was never going to get her brother back.

Sighing, and deciding to take his advice, see if maybe she could learn anything from him, she watched as her brother turned away from her, his expression becoming serious and quite focused, calling his pilots to form up.

Anakin spent a considerable amount of time with each of the men and women he commanded. He played back recordings Tahiri had cued, moments from the battle, highlights of every pilot’s record, pointing out various moments in their flights, maneuvers that were particularly impressive, things Anakin wanted them to work on, strengths and weaknesses. Then, as Anakin finished with each one, Tahiri handed them a brush and a small can of paint from a stash under her workstation and they went off happily to decorate their ships with kill marks.

As unorthodox as the process was, as time consuming and laborious as it seemed, as much as it grated on Jaina’s sense of order and discipline, she couldn't help but see the effect; every pilot worshiped her brother. Each one soaked up the praise, listened intently to his every word. They seemed honored to hear both his advice and criticism; seemed to feel that his time was highly valuable and that they were incredibly lucky to have his attention - looked forward to the opportunity to use his insight to improve their skills. Anakin treated each of his pilots with respect, made them feel like he was honored to have them serve under him, that he felt privileged to lead them, made it clear that he knew they were the ones making him look great.

The camaraderie and sense of kinship amongst the pilots was clear as well; someone had turned music on at some point, pilots and mechanics danced and bopped around as they did their work, some sang out, they all seemed to enjoy being together; no one seemed in any hurry to leave the hangar.

The other obvious thing was that the whole squad loved Tahiri.

Jaina began to see, after three hours of watching it, that Anakin and Tahiri’s public display of affection was as much for the squad as it was for them. This was a family; they were the parents, the pilots their somewhat unruly children. Their unity gave the kids a sense of security; as long as mommy and daddy were happy and together, all was right in their world. Remembering back to the dark days after Chewbacca’s death and the rift between her own parents, Jaina could understand the motivating factors at work here and had to admire her brother’s tactic.

The other thing Jaina realized was that it had taken Anakin a shockingly short amount of time to review all the vids; to find all the points in the recordings of each pilot’s disk that he wanted to discuss. He’d clearly remembered what had happened in the battlefield, what every one of his pilots had been doing, to find those moments on the tapes - to zero right in on them so that Tahiri could have them ready to roll. Her brother was a truly gifted leader.

A loud call of ‘Lumbont Three on your six!’ caught Jaina’s attention. Finally, it seemed, one of her questions would be answered.

From the back of the hangar, a man of medium height approached at a dead run: balanced on his head, short arms and legs splayed out as though in flight, naked except for a diaper and little combat boots, was a baby, giggling frantically. The miniature pilot’s helmet on his head was emblazoned with the labels ‘Lumbont 3’ and ‘Will’.

Tahiri and Anakin turned in unison, their joy unmistakable.

“Mah-Mahhhhh.” Will yelled out.

Anakin plucked his son off the head of the man, who turned out to be Valin Horn—Lumbont Eight, Jaina realized, and Anakin’s comment about ‘Eight’ getting an extra kill for being on ‘boy duty’ suddenly making sense.

Jaina remembered back to that first day in the med center after Anakin had been found; Winter’s story about the kidnapping attempt, and Tahiri killing the man trying to take her baby. Her annoyance at Anakin for awarding kills to pilots not even in space was instantly cooled by the realization that ‘Eight’ was not flying because he was on ‘boy duty’; left on ship to watch over Will. Her annoyance at the hoops she’d had to jump through in order to enter Anakin’s hangar was diminished as she realized that Bram and his team where simply making sure no-one who might pose a threat got close to their leader’s son, and Jaina knew that all these precautions were just Anakin and Tahiri using every means at their disposal to keep their child safe and alive.

“What am I? Minced Meat?” Anakin was asking his son, as he swung him up in the air and then and pretended to gnaw on his ribcage.

When Anakin finally stopped gnawing, and Will was able to catch his breath, Tahiri reached up and removed the helmet, revealing a cherubic face topped by golden ringlets and Jaina’s heart lurched at how sweet and beautiful her nephew was, and at the fact that she didn’t know him.

“Say no…” Tahiri commanded her son in a sweet voice as she leaned her nose into his, “but mama has cookies.”

“Wiwl hab coow-kies?” he asked; his little brows knit in concentration as his tiny lips worked to form the words.

“Were you a good boy for Uncle Valin today?”

“No, guh boy por Unka Bow-win.” He said, shaking his head and sending the curls swinging.

Tahiri turned her sweet smile on Valin and told Will, “Then you can have all the cookies you want.”

“You know,” Anakin began, as Tahiri produced yet another cookie from a seemingly endless supply in the pockets of her pants. Anakin leaned down and bit the cookie out of Tahiri’s hand and Will giggled, then pulled the cookie from Anakin’s mouth, and happily shoved it into his own, as Anakin continued, “Tahiri, light of my life, center of my existence, source of my joy…”

The Twi’lek, passing by again, made a gagging sound as she set her paint can down.

“Yehhhsss…” Tahiri answered.

“I haven’t read all the parenting manuals you have, but I’m fairly well versed in military training and I believe that the purposeful instruction of insubordination will come back to haunt us one day.”

“Possibly,” Tahiri conceded, “but I’m fairly well versed in Intelligence training and I believe that the purposeful instruction of counter offensive tactics can be useful in times of…”

Her reply was cut short when Will suddenly shrieked and wiggled his body so aggressively that Anakin had to fight to keep his hold on him.

“Gee,” Tahiri said mildly, “Did Paloma just round the corner?”

Anakin hefted his son back up and grinned. “Red will be this child’s favorite color forever.”

“Mine too.” Valin said salaciously, the wide grin on his face matching Will’s.

A young Togruta woman approached and tossed her disk to Tahiri before reaching out for Will. She took him from Anakin and, pulling him tight against her chest, nuzzled her nose to his. The two seemed to communicate on a level that exceeded language, then, after a moment, the girl switched him to her hip, reached into a pocket on her flight suit and pulled out a cookie for Will that looked just like the ones Tahiri was packing. She then pulled out another one and flipped it to Anakin.

He laughed and caught it deftly, saying, “Thanks, Lomi.”

“Who got your back, boss?” she asked with a wink.

“I wouldn't mind a cookie,” Valin sort of whined.

Rolling her eyes, Paloma retrieved another cookie, sent it sailing towards Valin’s face, then turned to Jaina, Jag and Jacen and asked, “While the pantry’s still open?”

They all shook their heads – no – so she closed her pocket and turned back to Will, who was stroking her montral.

“Wiwl wuv Woma.” He said softly.

“Loma loves you too, little man.”

Tahiri typed furiously for a moment, then said, “You’re up, Lomi,” and stood by while Anakin reviewed Paloma’s flight recording.

Paloma, Jaina quickly realized, was Anakin’s wing mate, and he seemed almost as fond of her as Will was. Jaina was also interested to note that, unlike all the female Jedi that Tahiri had disliked or resented for even looking at Anakin back on Eclipse, she not only seemed to have no problem with Paloma, she had her arm around her or was touching her a fair amount of the time the young woman was standing next to her.

At one point Tahiri smiled widely, pointed at the screen and, obviously referring to something the Togruta had done during the battle said, “That was art.”

Paloma grinned and gently elbowed Tahiri in the side. “Ah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you still have a husband.”

“Thank you for that,” Tahiri laughed, “but that was still a very nice move.”

“She’s right,” Anakin agreed. “That was stellar. I’ll have to program that into the sims, see if we can teach it to the others.”

“Thanks, man.” The woman beamed.

Paloma nuzzled her nose to Will’s again, then kissed his head before handing him to Tahiri, and said, “I’m on boy duty tomorrow; 0800 unless you need me earlier,” as she grabbed the brush and paint can Tahiri had set on the desk for her.

Tahiri squinted her eyes, thinking, as she cuddled her son. Jaina realized this was the first time she’d ever really seen Tahiri and Will interact. On the med frigate she’d seen Tahiri feed Will, but he’d only been a few months old at the time, and Tahiri had been so distraught, she’d practically been laying in Anakin’s med bed with him during those first several days, leaving the rest of Will’s care to Winter. From the time Anakin had woken up, until he’d freaked out and told everyone to get the kriff out, Tahiri had sort of avoided Anakin’s room during the hours his family had been in it, so Jaina hadn't seen her with Will much then either.

“Let’s see…” Tahiri began, as she crossed her eyes and puffed her cheeks out at Will, making him laugh. “Anakin starts patrol at 0500, and I’ve got to be an Intel Agent in the morning, but I doubt my first meeting will start before 0900, so that should work.” Will stuck one of the cookies he was holding into his mouth, and Tahiri opened her own mouth wide, making a show of chomping her teeth. She didn’t go near Will’s cookie, but the mere threat caused giggles. “I’ll give you a yell if anything else comes up.”

Paloma seemed totally unperturbed by Tahiri’s lack of focus.

“Kay. And I’ll see you tonight, right?”

Tahiri finally pulled back from Will and offered Paloma a wide grin. “We wouldn't miss it.”

Paloma reached over and poked the baby in the ribs, saying, “You’re all mine tomorrow, kiddo,” before turning and skipping off towards the ships.

Valin’s eyes followed her as she went. “Can I be all yours the next day?”

“Keep dreaming, Horny.” She called over her shoulder.

A high whistle and the sound of an explosion came from Anakin; the universal sound effects for crashing and burning.

“This from a man who’s kissed one woman. Ever.” Valin said.

“Hey, I didn’t make up the whole ‘Tusken Raiders mate for life’ thing.”

“She’s not really a Tusken Raider.”

Tahiri made a low honking sound.

Anakin let out laugh and Valin shook his head in disgust, walking away muttering, ‘that’s just wrong’.

When Valin was out of earshot, Anakin reached over, threaded his fingers through Tahiri’s hair, and gently pulled her head back. Leaning over her, he said, “Don’t do that,” to which Tahiri’s reply was to smile and honk again.

Anakin let go of her head and shook his own. “So unattractive.”

“For ly-hyffe,” she sing-songed.

A young human man walked up and Jaina felt her brother’s mood grow serious again, felt his presence in the Force shift; similar to how it felt when he and Tahiri had started their non-verbal conversation.

“Ah, time to pay the bill.” Anakin intoned, as he reached over and took Will out of Tahiri’s arms.

Tahiri wiped Will’s crumb-and-goo-covered lips, then wiped her fingers on Anakin’s shirt.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice going high as he finished his sentence.

“Punishment for what you’re thinking.”

“But I didn’t say it.” He defended.

“Might as well have.”

The human—his coveralls said his name was Hodge—set a thick data pad on Tahiri’s workstation then eyed her, shaking his head.

“Not necessary.” She informed him.

“I so don’t want to be you when he gets you alone.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “So I keep hearing. Why don’t you report instead of editorializing?”

Hodge shrugged. “Only bird damaged was yours.”

“Really?” Anakin asked in mock surprise.

Tahiri raised the heel of her boot and gently kicked the back of Anakin’s leg, and Jaina suddenly remembered Tahiri’s insane maneuver to help Jacen.

“I might advise,” Hodge continued, “that the next time some idiot can’t close his S-foils, you, of all people, don’t help him out. It’s sort of amazing you’re not blue from sucking vacuum. The fissures in your canopy are too deep to fix.”

Tahiri actually winced at that, and Anakin grew even more serious.

Hodge didn’t seem to notice.

“And I have to tell you, I’m dying to hear how you even managed it, but you know, I guess I’ll wait until after Anakin’s done wringing your neck. Speaking of which,” Hodge grew slightly bashful as he looked to Anakin, like a kid asking his dad to borrow the new speeder, excited, nervous… “I’ve got a little wager going with the guys in Blue Nebula’s Mech Crew, they think you’ll go at her as soon as the hangar’s clear, I said you’d wait ‘til after you got her back to your quarters. If it goes my way, I’m off the hook for that bet I lost last week when Tahiri took Valin down in sims four times straight.”

“That’s what you get for betting against me.” Tahiri scolded, jabbing her finger into Hodge’s chest.

“Oh… c’mon. You’d just done two shots and had Three in your lap.”

“You take your son into the simulators with you?” Jag asked from beside Jaina. He’d been so quiet through all the chaos she’d almost forgotten he was with her.

Anakin’s presence shifted again, brightened, and he appeared thoughtful, as though he’d just remembered something, but wasn't sure.

“Tahiri, didn’t you remote simm against a Vanguard a couple of weeks ago?”

Tahiri grinned wistfully, “Yeah, I did. Tough kill. Little bugger wouldn't hold still.”

Jaina could tell that Jag recognized himself as Tahiri’s opponent instantly, and managed to look both proud at providing a challenge, and chagrined at being bested, by her, of all people, until Tahiri finished with, “was digging into my pockets for cookies the whole time,” making it clear that her son was with her in the simulator then as well.

“Anyway,” Hodge brought the gloating Tahiri back on point, and her frown indicated that she wasn't happy about it. “I guess the moral of the story here is no more using your canopy as a battering ram.”

“Alright, message received.”

“Here,” Hodge shoved the data pad closer to her.

“What am I requisitioning? A new canopy?”

Hodge laughed. “You wish, hot shot. And you know damn well the canopy’s not the only issue. You’re not requisitioning anything. You’re requesting that procurement review a request for you to requisition yourself a new X-Wing.”

“Why?” she whined.

“Because you've gotten so many already.”

Jaina got the feeling that Anakin would have laughed at that, if the implications of what Hodge was saying weren’t so bad.

“Well,” Tahiri started lamely, “can’t we just use parts of other X-Wings?”

“You mean like build you a new one from the leftovers of all the ships you've already trashed?”

Anakin did laugh at that.

“Oh hush.” Tahiri said.

“Sorry, my love, but when he puts it like that, it sort makes me feel like an uncaring spouse to let you near a cockpit.”

“Won’t work anyway.” Hodge shrugged. “As good as Colonel Handsome and I are, even we can’t build you a ship without parts and we've already used up everything lying around, remember? We took the control panel out of the pit of forty-two A and put into forty-two B when you wasted B’s.”

“That wasn't my fault.” Tahiri gritted out, “I got caught in that ion back-wash when I shot the skip out from under Schreech.”

“I didn’t say it was your fault, but the board was still fried, and I wasn't able to track down a new one. Plus, we took the starboard engine out A and put in C when you got nailed last month when you put yourself between Valin and that cruiser analog, and the port went into B… can’t remember why we did that.”

Anakin put his hand to his mouth, the name ‘Talasea’ barely distinguishable over his fake cough.

Hodge snorted. “Forgot about that one.”

Will seemed to find that funny too. He put his own hand over his mouth and imitated his father, making fake coughing sounds. Anakin chuckle quietly, until Will announced, “Mama tuble gehn!” To which Anakin bit his lower lip and shook his head, while he tried desperately not to laugh out loud, finally giving up and burying his face in Will’s shoulder, his own shoulders shaking convulsively while Tahiri glared daggers at him.

“Why can’t she fly C?” Jag asked, clearly confused, and oblivious to Anakin’s peril.

Jaina was impressed he’d gotten that far; she’d lost track of A, and was only vaguely sure B was the ship Tahiri had been flying today.

“She can’t fly C, because all we were able to recover from C was the crash couch and the pilot.” Hodge offered dryly.

“Tahiri has the distinction of being the second Solo to go EV in combat.” Anakin informed darkly, his previous humor gone.

Any further attempt by Tahiri to defend her piloting was cut off by the shout of ‘General on deck’ and the din of boots snapping as all in the hangar turned toward the doors to salute Wedge Antilles.

Jaina couldn't remember the last time she’d seen a commander of Wedge’s stature on a flight deck, and wondered if word of his nephew’s presence had brought him down or if he paid regular visits to Anakin and Tahiri.

This question was answered soon enough.

“At ease,” he called out, relieving the troops to go back to their work as he approached.

Will was the first to get his attention.

“Wesh!”

“Hey Will, how’s my favorite pilot?”

Anakin handed his son off again, and Will happily kissed Wedge’s cheek, then accepted the cookie Wedge produced from the pocket of his uniform pants. Wedge took out a second cookie and went to toss it to Anakin, but Jaina’s brother held up his hand.

“No thanks, General… I’m good.”

There was no mistaking Wedge’s surprise, or his not very inconspicuous reading of the print-out still on the corner of Tahiri’s desk, or his pleasure when he’d seen what the print-out said, and Jaina finally realized – they weren’t really cookies. She just wished she knew what they were and why Anakin seemed to need them.

“Well, good,” Wedge tried to cover, “they’ll ruin your dinner anyway.” Then, turning his attention to his nephew, Wedge said, “Jagged, good to see you.”

“Uncle,” Jag bowed slightly. “And you.”

“Jaina, Jacen, were you looking to drop into the middle of a fur ball, or was that just the famous Solo luck?”

“Luck, as usual, Sir.” Jaina chuckled.

“We weren’t expecting you for a couple more days. Where are your parents and the Skywalkers?”

“They should be along later tonight actually. We were all hoping to spend a little time with Anakin and Tahiri before we sat down for the actual mission planning.”

That was true, they had all wanted to see Anakin; and they were hoping that if they spent a little time together, and were all nice to Tahiri, that Anakin would be able to put aside his anger at his family and think of the importance of this coming battle, think of the opportunity to end the war. Jaina thought it was a long shot, thought the likelihood of her brother going nova when he found out what Luke wanted was extremely high no matter what they did or how the topic was approached, but she and her father had been overruled and here she was, once again sitting back waiting for a family drama to unfold.

“Well, you’ll join us for dinner tonight, maybe we’ll get lucky and the old folks will make it here before the food gets cold. Tycho hates serving dinner cold,” Wedge said. “Tahiri can find you somewhere to freshen up before hand, and I’m sure she and Anakin will be glad to take you along to Bram’s birthday party afterwards.”

Jaina assumed that Bram’s party was what Paloma had been referring to earlier, and thought she saw slight grimaces on Anakin’s and Tahiri’s faces—like the last thing they wanted to do was take her, Jacen and Jag along, but they didn’t have a chance to say anything, wouldn't say anything, before Wedge faced Tahiri full on, his expression turning somewhat stern.

“Now, Agent Veila…”

“Yes, sir?” Tahiri demurred, sounding more like a daughter about to be gently admonished than a soldier about to be dressed down, which surely was about to happen.

“Tycho has suggested we change your call sign to Hobbie, but you’re probably too young to know what that means.”

The look on her face said she wasn't, or at least that her age had nothing to do with it, and Anakin was hiding another smirk; Jaina knew that he knew who Hobbie was.

“He’s the only other pilot I’ve ever known who flew his X-Wing into as much stuff as you. You've become the most expensive woman in my life. If your kill rate to hours in the cockpit ratio wasn't so high, according to my calculations, not your husband’s calculations, I’d consider busting you back to Iella full time just to save myself the cost in ships, but I know that only getting to spend ninety percent of every day with you would make Anakin unhappy.”

“And we wouldn't want to make Anakin unhappy,” Valin appeared out of nowhere to comment.

“I could bust you back to captain and that wouldn't make Anakin unhappy,” Wedge warned, giving Valin a sideways look.

“No, but it would make my mother unhappy.”

“When Mirax is living on my ship and wiping Vong off my windshield…” Wedge turned to Tahiri again, whose mouth looked to be forming the word ‘Yuuzhan’, and, wagging a finger in her face, said, “Don’t say it.”

She pursed her lips; then smiled sweetly, rocking on her heels, looking innocent.

Shaking his head - again, more like a doting father than the revered war veteran he was - Wedge asked, “Where’s Hodge?”

“Here sir.” The mechanic stepped out from where he’d been hiding behind Anakin.

“What do I have to sign to get her a new ship?”

“This sir.” Hodge grabbed the data pad off Tahiri’s workstation, scrolled through a few screens and held it out for Wedge.

Wedge passed Will to Valin, and, signing the data pad said, “Get her two, I don’t want to be having this conversation again for at least three weeks.

“Thank you, sir.” Tahiri and Hodge said in unison.

“Now, I didn’t come down here to bust your chops, although I’m always up for that, I came down to tell you dinner is going to be late. Iella and Winter are running behind, so meet us in two hours.”

Anakin brightened again, and Tahiri giggled quietly.

“Eight…” Anakin said, as he snaked an arm around Tahiri’s waist and began to back away from the others, a wide grin on his face, “Boy duty has just been extended. Two and I have... ”

Valin rolled his eyes. “Maneuvers to work on?”

“Precisely. Give us an hour to practice, would you?” Then, turning to Wedge; “Thanks for the heads up, General.” He said as he lazily saluted, then bent down, spun Tahiri, and scooped her up onto his shoulder. He faced his siblings, and, over his wife’s squeals, called, “See you at dinner.”

When Anakin turned around Tahiri picked her head up and, gesturing toward Jaina, Jacen and Jag, yelled out to Valin, “Will you find rooms for them, please?” as Anakin raced toward the exit.

As they disappeared, Will clapped his hands and said, “Mama Dada happy.”

“They’re gonna be a whole lot happier in about seven minutes.” Valin said.

Wedge gave Valin another scolding look, then appeared to notice Will’s state of dress for the first time, and asked the boy, “Where are your clothes?” Then he groused, “We finally get shoes on this child and now he’s naked.”

“Just like his parents.”

“Enough, Captain Horn,” Wedge sighed, as he and Valin turned and headed toward the hangar exit themselves, already seeming to forget Jaina, Jacen and Jag’s need for showers and beds.


(I'm Always Touched By Your) Presence, Dear/Gary Valentine

 

Such a great chapter. Love the squad dynamic here.

 

Loved the banter and the efficiency of the squadron. A close-knit group. Enjoyed Jaina's POV. Very much in character - the right mix of reflection and receptiveness to reconciling.

 

Excellent updates. The last few chapters have a very Allston (RIP) feel to them, which is the way fighter pilots should be written. Really glad to see Jag in here; he was one of my favorite characters during this time period.

You're right, I wasn't here the first time this was posted, and I can't wait to see how it all turns out.

 

Force Smuggler – Thank you! I’m glad you liked the squad dynamic. I got grief for that chapter when I posted the first time, so I was nervous about reposting without changing. I’m super glad it was well received here.

Nyota’s Heart – I do love trying to make the characters smart and sassy. And it just seemed natural that Anakin would have a kick ass squad.

Sone Jade – Wow! Allston-esque is high praise! Thank you very much.

I love Jag too – or rather the potential I saw in him. He is a main character in my other work – Fear and Love – which I’m desperately trying to find the ability to continue/finish and part of what I enjoyed was having the chance to write Jag as I thought he should have been written.

With all the choices of reading material on these boards I’m very flattered that you not only have given this a try – but have been impressed and entertained enough to actually comment! If time permits, I’ll have the entire story up within a few weeks. Funny – since it was completed five years ago – I thought the process would go faster – and am a little stunned that it’s still requiring so much effort to actually get it up. I can’t wait to hear what you think of the final product.

Working on next post now. Hope to have it up within the hour.

Elle

 

Chapter 16​

​

Whole Lotta Love​

Jacen Solo was in Hell.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like - and he wondered what he had done to deserve this punishment.

Was the Universe going to continue to flog him for one bad decision? Was he going to spend the rest of his life choking on little brother’s relationship with a woman he detested? Was he going to spend eternity feeling guilty for driving ‘the most promising Knight of his generation’ away from the Jedi Order?

And did they always paw at each other like this in public, or was this behavior a display reserved for him and Jaina, designed to make them feel even worse for what they’d inadvertently done - deprive Anakin and Tahiri of each other’s ‘company’ - for a year?

They’d all drudged through dinner; sticking mostly to neutral topics; the war, the war, and the war.

They’d discussed all the things that Anakin’s Super Squad had shot and killed, all the Yuuzhan Vong that had surrendered to Tahiri’s Incredible Infiltrators. They’d also discussed how cute Will was, how talented Will was, what a sweet baby Will was and how much Will loved his ‘Uncle’ Valin and the ‘Holds’, as Anakin and Tahiri referred to Will’s hold-parents.

Will had spent the meal toddling from familiar lap to familiar lap, being coddled and cooed over, and Jacen had felt Jaina’s pain at being ignored by their nephew, and again felt that he and his twin were being punished.

Two incidents in particular had set Jacen’s teeth on edge.

The first had been Anakin’s and Tahiri’s arrival; they’d appeared relaxed, obviously sated from their hour of ‘maneuvers’ while Valin had watched their son, and dressed for the party they were now all making their way too. Anakin looked like he was on a tropical vacation, complete with a loud print shirt open over a plain t-shirt, knee length trousers and beach shoes. Tahiri’s outfit was revealing in a less than subtle way; skin tight pants and a halter top tied with string across her back – barely covering her front. Jacen couldn't help but be offended; it was no way to dress in front of Wedge, a decorated general, and he was shocked when the stately Winter, of all people, complemented her on how beautiful she looked. It certainly wasn't the way Jacen would want the mother of his child walking around.

At least she had shoes on.

The second incident had occurred after Jacen had made an offhanded comment referring to Tahiri as Anakin’s girlfriend. Anakin had raised his arm, used the Force to call a small holo-cube sitting on a table in the Antilles’ sitting room to his hand, and slapped it down in front of Jacen. He’d triggered the play button, again using the Force, and treated all there to a recording of the wedding ceremony Wedge had performed, evidently not long after Anakin had begged Tahiri to take him back.

Mom was going to love that; no more ‘forty-two’ – it was legal everywhere now.

It wasn't the fact that Anakin and Tahiri were really married that annoyed Jacen so much as the emotion he could feel pouring off of Anakin in the Force while the recording played. His brother wasn't playing it in a ‘I want to share this happy occasion with you’ sort of way, it was a ‘kriff you and the bantha you rode in on’ sort of way; it was a ‘you and your feelings regarding my relationship mean nothing’ sort of way, and that bothered Jacen more than he wanted to admit.

He’d long since gotten over any hope that Anakin would leave Tahiri, or that her leaving him would stick. It wasn't even that Jacen thought Anakin should choose his family over Tahiri and Will, it was the idea that nothing mattered to him as much as Tahiri and Will that hurt.

Jacen just didn’t understand.

Of course, he’d never understood the attraction there. He’d assumed in the beginning that Tahiri’s appeal was that she was familiar, went along with Anakin’s hair-brained schemes, fed his worst instincts, and that as he matured he’d see that she was trouble. Jacen assumed that when they were younger she gave Anakin what any hormone driven seventeen-year-old boy would want and that eventually the ‘bond’ would wane. It had almost been a relief to him that Anakin wasn't going to be around to be saddled with her and a child; his brother deserved better than that; his brother was better than that.

And yet here they were, years later, ‘happily’ married, with that very child, and all the Solo family’s complaints and objections had done was drive Anakin away, further into this insignificant, sand clogged little orphan’s arms. And to top it off, his family now wanted a relationship with Anakin, and that child, and they weren’t allowed because of how they’d treated her.

Apparently how she’d treated them didn’t count.

Now, as if dinner hadn't been painful enough, as if fighting in a space battle and having to endure being ‘saved’ by Tahiri hadn't already taxed Jacen’s patience, he found himself making his way to a party for someone he didn’t know, with people who didn’t like him, when he should have been locked in his room meditating or doing something else to relieve the stress and angst brought on by the day.

Jag wasn't any happier about their destination, he could feel that clearly; he assumed Anakin and Tahiri could as well, but they didn’t seem to care. Jaina wasn't super happy about going either, but she was determined to do anything she could to get back in Anakin’s good graces.

Good luck, Sis.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Jaina was trying to ignore Jacen’s mood, had been trying to ignore it all day, but had found it particularly hard during dinner.

It had been wonderful spending time with the Antilles and Celchufamilies – people who had meant so much to her throughout her life. Wedge was her hold-father, Winter her nanny until she was four. Their company brought a feeling of comfort she hadn't realized she’d missed so much, a sense that as much as things had changed since the invasion, there were still safe harbors she could seek shelter in.

She wasn't a fool – she understood plainly that the four friends who had fought with her parents and uncle against the Empire were devoted to Anakin and Tahiri and their son, that they saw all that had gone on between Tahiri and her family in Anakin’s absence as a blight on her family’s record, but they were kind enough to not take her out and shoot her between the main course and dessert, and for that she was grateful.

It had also been nice to see Jag with his uncle; to watch him en-rapt as Wedge had spoken of Syal, Jag’s mother Syal, with fondness and the kind of awe that only a younger sibling can have for an elder.

Of course it had also made her sad because she knew that Anakin wouldn't be speaking of her with that same wistfulness anytime soon… possibly not ever again, but she tried to bury that fear and focus on the opportunity she was being given to spend time with Anakin and his family. Tried to focus on how sweet and loving he and Tahiri were with each other, and that they’d faced a really rough time after he’d come back and had come through it so strong, and that they adored their son and that Will was a sweet little boy.

She didn’t want to go to this party any more than Jag or Jacen, but it was important to her that Anakin see that she was trying, and so she and Jag and Jacen were sucking it up and going along.

She’d prayed making them join her wouldn't be a mistake; that Jacen wouldn't start a fight with Anakin - that Anakin wouldn't lose his temper and just shoot him.

That wouldn't be good.

After a seemingly endless journey through hallways, down numerous lifts and into the belly of the Star Destroyer, they finally arrived at what turned out to be a bar of sorts; a large room full of the pilots and mechanics Jaina had seen and met earlier in the day, and many others. The commandos seemed to be well-represented and Jaina remembered that it was Bram, the Lumbont’s head commando, whose birthday was being celebrated.

Their entranced caused a stir, all in the room seeming to be aware right away that Anakin and Tahiri had arrived - everyone knew them, and they knew everyone.

Jaina was shocked to see her quiet, self-contained brother slapping backs and shaking hands with a dozen beings as he made his way through the room. Tahiri had disappeared as soon as they’d cleared the doorway; Jaina had lost sight of her almost instantly, so she’d clung to Anakin, and was pulled along, as he worked the crowd. It reminded her a little of Leia on a good night, though Anakin was faster, barely giving her a chance to acknowledge an introduction before he was on to the next person.

At least he was introducing her. Jacen and Jag were behind Valin. Valin wasn't bothering with introductions.

Jaina continued to cling as they made their way to a table in the corner. Sitting in the middle of the table was a sign marked ‘You aren't really stupid enough to sit here, are you?’ She supposed it was her brother’s highly irreverent squad’s idea of a ‘reserved’ sign.

As Anakin reached his chair, and she had no doubt it was ‘his’ chair, an astromech droid was setting a glass of whiskey, neat, and an open ale in front of him. Again, it was clear that he was known, as was his order.

He was still greeting people, though now he was receiving more like a Hutt than a commanding officer, the beings acting more like underlings paying their ‘respects’ then pilots saying hello to a colonel; and as he was finishing his first whiskey, another was being set in its place.

They’d been sitting at Anakin’s table for almost an hour, Jacen clearly miserable, Jag a little better after having polished off his own drink, and Jaina actually sort of enjoying watching her little brother rule the roost. Music was blasting, though not so loud that they couldn't talk; just loud enough to make conversation difficult if they wanted it to be, when Jaina caught site of Tahiri – dancing over to the table slowly, hips and head swaying to the music. In one hand she carried a plate piled high with what looked to be small cakes dusted with a powdery substance. In her other hand was a half-eaten piece of the same desert, and on her face, as she chewed, was a look of pure ecstasy.

Anakin took the plate from her and set it on the table as he pulled her down to his lap. She draped an arm around his shoulders languidly as she popped the rest of the piece of cake she was working on into her mouth, and licked her fingers.

Anakin chuckled. “I’ll have to thank Yorg for making you Slord Cakes again.”

“Mmhmmm,” she purred into Anakin’s ear, before placing a kiss below it, then another below that, followed by a few more.

“How many have you had?” he asked her, amused.

Anakin’s neck was forgotten as she slowly sat up, her brow knit together in concentration for a moment. “Three? Four?” she asked, as though he might know the answer. She then reached for the plate again.

Anakin caught her hand and brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss. “Why don’t we wait for all of those to kick in before you have anymore?”

Tahiri shrugged agreeably, then shut her eyes and rested her cheek on the top of Anakin’s head as she began to run her fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what he puts in these…”

Valin, sitting between Anakin and Jacen, polished off his ale, smacked his lips lightly and said, “Same thing he always puts in them, Ree.”

Anakin smiled broadly and explained to his siblings; “Yorg’s mother was a pastry chef, was forced into service at one of Palpatine’s palaces because she was so good...”

“Yorg’s father was a chemist,” Valin cut in, his grin matching Anakin’s.


“Really?” Tahiri asked sitting up again, her obvious surprise bringing guffaws from both men. “How come I never knew that?”

Anakin kissed her shoulder. “You did, my love.”

“We tell you every time, Ree,” Valin confessed.

“Really?” She asked again, “How come I don’t remember?”

“Because his father was a chemist!” Valin practically shouted.

Tahiri shrugged, picked up another piece of cake and was about to bite into it when Anakin eased the cake out of her hand and shook his head, laughing gently. “Not yet.”

Tahiri pouted for a moment, then a smiled. She pointed at Jacen and laughed happily. When her giggles had distracted Anakin, she opened her mouth and lunged for the cake still in his hand. She got a bite, and with her mouth full, began to laugh again. She grabbed the rest of the piece Anakin was holding and held it out to Jacen as she swallowed and began to giggle uncontrollably.

Anakin laughed at her; then asked what was so funny.

“He,” she finally said, still laughing and holding the cake out to Jacen, “should try these.”

Jacen looked horrified, and shook his head as he raised a hand to her. “Thanks, I’m okay.”

“No, really.” Tahiri insisted. “You should. It will totally change…” She could hardly speak, but kept trying, and Anakin laughed with her, which only made her laugh harder. “It will totally change your view of… your view of… your view of the Force.”

By the time she got the words out, Valin was laughing as hard as Anakin and Tahiri, and Jaina was fighting not to join them because the idea of Jacen on anything that could make him as ‘happy’ as Tahiri was hilarious.

It seemed that only Jag was as insulted by the idea that Jacen needed to loosen up as Jacen himself.

Tahiri’s laughter stopped suddenly when the music changed. She squealed, shoved the last of the cake in her hand into her mouth and jumped up from Anakin’s lap, then turned to kiss him. He patted her hip, told her to have fun, and then watched her dance away, meeting up with Paloma, who was already on the floor. Turning back to the table, he met Jacen’s look, a look Jaina was all too familiar with; disapproval.

Anakin shot back the last of the whiskey in his glass, then chased it down with a long pull from his ale bottle before asking, “What? Is your problem that someone’s having fun, or that she’s having fun? Do you really dislike her that much?”

The mirth Jaina had been feeling died instantly, as the moment she’d been hoping wouldn't arrive reared its ugly head.

“This isn’t about me disliking Tahiri.” Jacen bit out.

“Oh, that’s a separate issue?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what is your issue, at this particular moment?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little irresponsible?”

“What? Having fun? You don’t think Yoda ever tied one on?”

Jaina ducked her head and stifled a giggle.

“I have a hard time imagining the grand master of the old Jedi Order with a hangover,” Jacen stated imperiously.

Anakin shrugged. “Probably the original ailment healing trances were invented for.”

Jaina sat back, continued to try to squash down the laugh that was threatening to escape her, and mouthed ‘thank you’ when a Zeltron waitress set another ale in front of her. She was going to need it with where this conversation was going.

“Have you really lost all respect for the Force?” Jacen was now demanding.

“No Jacen, I’ve lost all respect for pompous windbags who think that their way of doing things is the only way things should be done. Especially when they conveniently change their views after lecturing the rest of us for years.”

So, Anakin knew about the Potentium, too.

Jaina had to hand it to Tahiri; she was good. Wherever she, and therefore Anakin, was getting the information on Zonama Sekot, she seemed to be getting it right. And frankly, after all that Anakin had feared, given his name, given Chewbacca, given Centerpoint, and Ikrit, after what everyone else had speculated in terms of her brother following in their grandfather’s path, she could understand him being bitter about the sudden shift in the Order’s view of Light and Dark.

But Jacen was on a self-righteous roll and ignored Anakin’s comment. Jaina grabbed her ale and sat back again, deciding that monitoring the situation from afar was better than partaking in it. She’d be better able to jump in and prevent bloodshed if she had a clear view of the battlefield.

Those cakes were looking good though, and she had a sudden urge to join her sister-in-law in obliviousness, let the boys have at it on their own and enjoy the rest of her evening. Maybe even join Tahiri on the dance floor – she and Paloma looked to be having a great time.

But before she could work up the nerve to reach for the cake plate, Jacen was at it again.

“Fine, you have no respect for the new ideas the Jedi are exploring; have you lost respect for the Force itself?”

“Hardly, the Force is the one thing that I do respect, the thing that I’ve always respected. I didn’t choose to stop using the Force in some self-indulgent exercise when the galaxy needed me to use my natural talents to defend life.”

Jacen was steaming now and Jaina cradled her ale bottle to herself in between sips while she felt her brothers squaring off mentally. Then Jacen brightened, a clear sign he thought he’d gain the upper hand with the argument he was about to launch.

“And how is shooting stuff and partying and having sex showing respect for the Force?”

Anakin stared at him for a second, then laughed out loud.

“Oh, come on Jacen, you can do better than that. You aren't actually going to sit there and tell me that having fun is ‘of the dark side’, are you? Because if that’s the case – fit me for my black suit; I’m grandpa.” Anakin slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead. “Oh – wait – there is no Dark Side, so, am I even a Sith?”

That flustered Jacen, but he didn’t seem inclined to let that slow him down and Jaina wondered if Anakin’s new-found ability to verbally spar was a skill he’d picked up after ten years of living with Tahiri.

“I’m not saying you shouldn't have fun,” her twin was now arguing, “I’m saying the kind of fun she’s having seems irresponsible.”

“Why? We’re adults, we’re off duty, and we’re in a contained environment.”

“And you have a son.”

Anakin’s smiled disappeared instantly. “Who is asleep and being taken care of by competent people who love him while a group of highly trained soldiers stands outside their quarters. What’s your point?”

“Shouldn't you be taking care of him?”

“Kriff. Like our parents took care of us?”

Even Jaina bristled slightly at the insult to Han and Leia, but neither she nor Jacen had a chance to defend their parents before Anakin continued.

“Unlike the way you and Jaina and I were raised, and contrary to the impression you may have gotten because of Will being with Valin today, my son is actually cared for the majority of the time by his mother, or me, or both of us. We've built our lives around him, we've built our schedules around his. My squad doesn't love that the majority of our patrols are at night, they would much prefer to spend their evenings in bars rather than flying, but they don’t complain because they know how important it is to Tahiri and me that we be on ship during the day when Will is awake, and flying while he’s asleep whenever that’s possible. And it is precisely because we want to raise our son ourselves that he is here and not in the Maw. Given all that, I think it would actually be unhealthy if Tahiri and I didn’t have some playtime of our own once in a while after we've put Will down for the night.”

“I already said; I’m not finding fault with your wanting to have fun, I’m questioning the type of fun you’re having.”

“Has it occurred to you that if we weren’t Force-wielding freaks raised by power-mongers that this is precisely what we would have been doing during our university years? We’re actually acting like normal 19 and 21 year olds for once.”

“But you’re not normal 19 and 21 year olds, and you’re parents.”

“You keep coming back to that. I wish I could believe that it was my son’s welfare that was inspiring your concern, but given the fact that you haven’t shown any concern for him since his birth, or before that, it’s sort of hard for me to swallow now.”

“What she’s doing is illegal.”

Anakin laughed again, Valin joining in, and Jacen steamed more. He hated being laughed at.

“We aren't doing anything illegal. All the ingredients in Slord Cakes can be found in any human pantry. Tahiri’s right, you really ought to try one. Might loosen that stick up your…”

“Ahn-ahh-kihhn… “

Tahiri was on the edge of the dance floor; one finger crooked, a suggestive smile on her face, as she beckoned her husband.

Anakin nodded to her, then turned back to the table as he peeled off his shirt, the one that was already hanging open, leaving him in just his t-shirt. He finished off his ale, took a piece of the cake off the plate and popped it into his mouth with a smile, swallowed it down and, grabbing a second piece, stood up and said to Jacen, “I’ll have Yorg send the recipe to the Queen’s chef.”

Jacen’s expression turned to rage and Jaina had to bite back another laugh at Anakin’s reference to her twin’s unrequited teenage crush on their former classmate.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I’d like to spend a little time with.” Then, saluting Jacen with the cake – Anakin turned and headed for Tahiri.

Jaina watched her brother in fascination as he approached his wife. The music had changed as Anakin was standing up, a sexually charged sound emitting from the speakers as the bass and drums beat out a syncopated rhythm.

Tahiri’s expression had changed too; an unmistakable ‘come and get me’ challenge lighting her features while she took one step backward for every two steps Anakin took forward. Jaina couldn't see Anakin’s face, but something in the way he moved, in the almost predatory way he seemed to stalk his wife while she continued to lure him deeper onto the dance floor told Jaina that her brother was more than up to the challenge Tahiri was throwing down, and that they would both enjoy what was going to happen when he got to her.

By the time Anakin reached Tahiri, her body was already swaying again. He wrapped his hands around her waist then slid them down low behind her, pulling her body against his, falling into step with her instantly as she surrendered; she was caught, she was his; to do with her as he pleased. The air around them seemed to pop and buzz instantly, the raw passion radiating off them a nearly palpable thing as they fell into the beat of the music.

Valin chuckled as he set his ale down and Jaina looked at him.

“You’re in for a treat. The Anakin and Tahiri Show is always a feast for the eyes. Not to mention the other senses. Half the party will have disappeared to go make out in corners by the mid-point of this song. Though most of them won't be able to tell you why they feel the sudden urge to take off their clothes and jump the nearest person to them.”

Jaina turned back to watch the dance. Actually, ‘dance’ was a rather generous description for what Anakin and Tahiri were doing. The sensuality was startling.

Tahiri’s head fell back, her neck exposed, as Anakin let her drift into a deep back bend, leaning over her, sliding his hands up to her shoulders to support her as she arched into him. Their hips never parted as the music continued and Jaina wondered vaguely if anyone else was surprised, or bothered, by the display, or thought throwing water on the smoldering pair might be a good idea. Given Valin’s remarks, she supposed not. They were likely all too busy looking for their own partners to ‘dance’ with, unaware of the fact that they were subconsciously responding to what was coming off of Anakin and Tahiri in the Force.

If she didn’t know better, Jaina would swear one or both of them was part Fallen, given the effect they were having on the crowd.

As the tempo shifted, Anakin lifted Tahiri back up, and she draped her arms around his neck. They were still keeping perfect time with the music, their bodies still moving in unison, their hips still rocking in sync, with one of Anakin’s legs nestled between Tahiri’s as his hands began creeping back down her body, holding her firmly against his own. Tahiri traced one hand down Anakin’s chest, then up under his shirt, and wound the other up into his hair, pulling him down for a deep kiss as they continued to move.

Once again they appeared oblivious to all around them.

As suggestive as their behavior was, as intimate as it seemed in this crowded room, as much as Jaina had no desire to actually engage in such exhibitionist behavior, she still felt a pang of jealousy because she knew Jag would never feel free enough to behave even remotely like that with her.

Jag cleared his throat and asked, “Are they always so… demonstrative?” – unknowingly confirming her suspicions.

Valin shook his head and laughed again; then looked back at Jaina. “You just don’t get it, do you? He’s walked across two planets for her; she refused to give up on him when everyone else was sure he was dead. Demonstrative? They rejoice in every kriffing second they have together. Yes, they’re demonstrative, yes, we tease them about it. None of us would have it any other way. The rest of us pray that we’ll find love like that one day. It’s what we all aspire to, it’s what we’re all fighting to live for.”

“I can’t believe how much he’s changed,” Jaina finally said.

“He hasn't changed at all,” Valin went on, “you’re just seeing a side of him that he used to only show her.”

Jaina was thoughtful for a moment, eyed the plate of cakes in front of her, then, when she was sure she’d spotted the smallest one, reached out and grabbed it and popped it in to her mouth, delighted by the taste. She smiled to herself, smiled wider at Jacen’s scowl, grabbed a second piece, a bigger one, and stood up.

“You know what Jacen, Valin’s right,” she said, as she popped the second piece into her mouth and grabbed a third. She then grabbed Jag’s hand. “C’mon Jagged. Let’s dance.”


Whole Lotta Love/Led Zepplin

 

Valin is right about Anakin and Tahiri. From first word to last. And Anakin and Tahiri are right about their priorities: how they're prioritizing themselves as a couple and parents; and Anakin is spot-on the money when it comes to pomposity and what normal 19-21 year olds should/would be doing. Having fun, rejoicing in their youthful vigor, and the love they've been blessed with. Life is too blooming short for anything less. Seems like Jaina is coming around easier/quicker than Jacen.


You write some smooth dance sequences I can picture L/M making those moves on the floor, and I like it!

 

Chapter 17​

​

Ramble On​

Anakin chuckled to himself as he caught sight of Wedge up ahead in the hall, his parents and aunt and uncle trailing behind.

This should be interesting.

Meeting the group outside the door to the simulator room, he stopped, and smiled.

He nodded to Wedge first, “Good evening again, General.”

“Colonel Solo,” Wedge returned, a broad grin on his face. “Look who I found wondering around my ship.”

He smiled at Leia first, “Hello Mom. I’d give you a hug, but my hands are a little full,” he said, lifting Tahiri slightly, who was draped across his arms, her own arms wound loosely around his neck, her head facing over his shoulder, facing Valin.

He didn’t mean it, his claim to Leia, and she probably knew that, but it felt like the right thing to say to his mother after not having seen her for so long.

He looked to his father next. “Hi Dad, it’s good to see you.”

“Hey, kid, it’s good to see you, too.” And he could tell his dad truly meant it.

He was about to greet Luke and Mara when Tahiri finally seemed to realized they’d stopped moving, or that Valin was unconscious, and therefore not susceptible to her taunting—only upright because Junip and Stroker were holding him—and turned to face the relatives.

“I thought I felt a disturbance in the Force,” his wife announced, before laughing and tucking her head into Anakin’s neck.

Anakin tried to keep a straight face, tried to ignore the look of disdain from Leia, the looks of shock from his aunt and uncle, felt the rage brewing in his brother, who was now standing next to their mother, and gave up, smiling widely.

Jaina stepped up beside him, leaning heavily on Jag, and swayed as she said to the family, “Welcome to the Love Boat. You wouldn't believe the desserts Anakin’s squad cooks up.”

Wedge’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he looked from Jaina to Anakin, then he laughed too. “Oh… Anakin… she didn’t…”

“Blame your nephew, sir. I had my own woman to keep track of.”

Wedge shook his head as he said, “And it looks like you did an exemplary job.”

“Wait, I was supposed to be keeping track of Jaina?” Jag asked, sounding somewhat confused. “I thought she was ok as long as she was with Tahiri.”

Anakin looked at Jag, astonished. “What in galaxy gave you that idea?” But before Jag could answer Jaina swayed again, falling into Anakin’s side. “Ho, watch it there, sis,” he laughed.

She looked up at him and whispered, though not very quietly, “I really like your wife. She’s fun. And she knows where all the good deserts are.”

“Yes she does, Jay.”

“You’re a really good brother.”

“I’m trying, Jay.”

“And I want you to know, no matter what else happens, I’m really glad we all had tonight. I’ve really missed you, and I’m sorry for everything that’s happened.”

There was a lot of emotion behind her statement, and though Anakin wished he could believe that it was all sincere, he figured he should credit the cakes with at least some of it, but he smiled down at her anyway and said, “I’ve missed you too.”

Jaina closed her eyes and smiled, than swayed again, Jag barely catching her.

“Oops, sorry.” Jaina giggled. “Thought we were still dancing there for a minute.”

Anakin shook his head, and told Jag, “You may want to pick her up. I’m not just carrying Tahiri ‘cause she’s cute. More than six or seven of those cakes and coordination goes all to hell.”

“Alright,” Wedge said, grabbing Anakin’s attention back from Jaina and Jag, “are we doing what I think we’re doing?”

Tahiri picked her head up from where she’d been resting it next to Anakin’s neck, where she’d begun placing little bites and kisses below his ear, undoubtedly thinking her mouth was hidden behind her own arm, and turned toward Wedge and asked him; “You know how to say ‘star food’ in Bothan?” Before he could respond, she proclaimed, “Valin!” and then began to giggle again.

Anakin saw the grin Han was trying to hide, and remembered how much fun his father could be, wished his mother and his brother weren’t there, and decided he’d ignore them and continue to enjoy his evening.

Wedge clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Alright, brief me,” he ordered.

Anakin grew serious, or least tried to look serious, and brought Wedge up to speed; “Lieutenant Horn’s had four whiskeys and six ales, and is doing a thirty minute juvie trance. Agent Veila’s had who knows how many cakes…”

“Eleven.” Tahiri admitted.

“Fourteen.” Jaina countered.

“Twelve.” Tahiri corrected.

“Twenty-seven.” Jaina threw out.

“Forty-two.” They both shouted in unison, which made everyone just shake their heads as they continued to laugh.

“And will do a twenty minute trance.” Anakin finally finished.

“Ehh… pull her out in ten, this might be a race.” Wedge said as he pulled out his comlink and hailed Tycho, giving him the information before asking Anakin, “What are the parameters?”

Anakin cleared his throat, and tried really hard not to laugh; “Battle of Yavin, sir,” but then couldn't hold the laugh in while he said, “He’s Luke Skywalker, she’s Darth Vader.”

Tahiri pointed in Han’s general direction, “And you’re not saving his ass this time, kid,” and then giggled some more.

Shock tore through the Force, though Tahiri’s outburst had come so fast on the heels of Anakin’s answer to Wedge that he couldn't tell if his mother and uncle were incensed by his wife’s words or his own answer to Wedge. The fact that Wedge was in on the game did not appear to have gone unnoticed by his father or aunt however, and they both seemed to get the humor of the situation.

Wedge grabbed all of their attention when he cut back in with, “Do they have to kill the other before they take out the Death Star?”

“No, sir.” Anakin answered. “The station’s fair game, they just have to get to it before Tarkin gives the fire order. And no Red Squadron or Falcon.” Anakin looked back to his father and smiled. “Sorry Dad, but she’s right, you’re not saving his ass this time.”

Han smiled too. “No problem, kid.”

“Hodge handling the wagers tonight?” Wedge asked.

“Yes, sir.” Hodge said, as he wound his way through the crowd that had gathered behind Anakin.

Wedge rattled off the bets Tycho, Iella and Winter were calling down, and Anakin could hear Tycho saying that he was on his way and that they weren’t to start without him.

Tycho was the one who had trained Tahiri in the TIE sim when she’d been pregnant. Iella had insisted that Tahiri couldn't work around the clock during those long months, but Tahiri had needed some way to burn off her nervous energy and keep her mind off of Anakin, so Tycho had taught her to fly and took great pride in her winning streak.

Anakin hefted Tahiri a little higher up in his arms as she began making throaty breathing sounds; imitating his grandfather.

Jacen folded his arms and glared at her, saying, “Unbelievable.”

It was Jaina though, who stunned Anakin by scolding, “Oh, shut up, Jacen, you’re harshing my high,” which sent Tahiri into another fit of giggles; Jaina followed suit, which made Tahiri laugh harder, until the two were pointing to each other, both laughing hysterically.

Anakin glanced over at his uncle, but couldn't get a read on his reaction to all that was going on, and finally decided he didn’t care.

“Alright,” Wedge called, “send her under. Let’s get this thing going.”

Anakin looked down at Tahiri, waited for her to calm down, then bumped his nose on her forehead to get her attention, and said, “Hey, you ready?”

She smiled sweetly and asked, “Can I take off my shoes to fly?”

“Whatever makes you happy, Grandpa.”

Her smile turned less sweet, a smile Anakin knew well and loved. She ran a finger down his cheek and, heedless of the crowd, drawled, “Call me Grandpa again and I’ll wear black for you later.”

Several laughs came from behind them, and Anakin mouthed ‘Grandpa’, to which Tahiri smiled widely, and Leia huffed.

“Alright, my love, clear your mind.”

She made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a stifled laugh and said, “Oh, Anakin, there’s nothing in there right now.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then whispered; “Let me in,” as he gazed into her eyes. He focused, reached for her in their bond, felt her reach for him, then chuckled as her eyes rolled and her head whipped back.

Eight red fingers appeared out of nowhere to brace Tahiri’s skull, and Paloma gave him a stern look.

“One of these days you’re going to snap her neck.”

Anakin grinned again. “Nah, that’s what I keep you around for, Lomi.”

“Alright, troops,” Wedge was in commander mode, anxious to get his credits’ worth, “to your battle stations. Trey, take Tahiri, Anakin has work to do. Who’s timing the trances? Don’t give her a second more than twenty minutes. C’mon Luke… you’re going to love this.”

Anakin doubted that, but he passed his wife off to his friend, and felt his dad at his elbow as he made his way to the programming module and began to bring up the information for the competition.

“So, what’s the story?” Han asked.

“With the sim? It’s a grudge match. Valin’s manhood versus Tahiri’s cockiness; she’s way ahead. Endor, Yavin, Bacta, Duro, Requiem, Thyferra, head-to-head… She’s beaten him…” Anakin nodded to the front of the room, ‘Tahiri’ and ‘Valin’ written on a board there, the numbers ‘fifty-nine’ and ‘twenty-two’ under their names. “… repeatedly and he keeps coming back for more.”

“Wow…” Han whistled. “I would've assumed they were friends.”

“Oh, they’re mad for each other, wing mates in fact. And they’re the only ones allowed to insult each other. You don’t want to know the misery those two are capable of inflicting on anyone stupid enough to say a negative thing about the other. But get a few drinks in him, and a few Slord Cakes in her, and they feel the need to rip each other up in the sims. Highly entertaining for the rest of us.”

“Must make Corran crazy.”

“He refuses to watch anymore. And he owes me big. Actually, everyone here does. I’ve stopped collecting, makes me feel bad. I could buy a house and put Will through school on what these poor slobs owe me. It’s sort of become tradition; my standard birthday gift to everyone is to forgive their debts, wipe their slates clean. Of course we generally spend the end of every party right back here, me winning their creds back again, so it’s hard for me to feel too sorry for any of them anymore.”

“She that good?”

Anakin glanced up at his father, and couldn't help the proud grin on his face. “Yeah, she is. Between her Jedi reflexes and the fact that she’ll hurl herself in front of anything, you’d almost think she was born a Solo.” Then his smiled faded. “Which is fun to watch in here, not as much fun when we’re out on patrol. The women is going to make me gray before I’m twenty-five.”

“She’s been hurling herself in front of stuff since she was nine.”

“True. I guess I can’t really claim I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

“No, you can’t, and you deserve the punishment for getting married and starting a family so young. If you hadn't been dead when I found out I would have grounded you for that.”

“You’re almost as funny as your other son.”

Han chuckled, then kept going, “And how is your son?”

“He’s good, he’s really good. Iella send you the holos of him with his flight helmet on?”

“Yeah, they were great.”

“You see the one where the helmet fell forward and he had to tilt his head back to look out under the visor? With his little chin up in the air?”

“That was my favorite.”

“Mom see ‘em?”

“I think so.”

They were both quiet again until Han asked, “Tahiri doin’ okay?”

“Yeah. Can’t wait for this to be over. She hates that Will’s never seen sky, or trees, or real grass.”

“I can imagine. Having to raise a kid on a Star Destroyer ain’t right.”

“Beats the hell out of sending him to the Maw, though. Speaking of which, how mad are Luke and Mara going to be about this?”

“The sim? They've got a little better sense of humor than your mom these days. If it was Jacen making Darth Vader breathing sounds the princess probably wouldn't be sitting in the corner throwing an aneurysm.”

“That was sort of always the case. I got used to it.”

“Funny, Jacen always thought you were the favorite. But I think that’s part of having brothers and sisters; thinking the other is the favorite.”

“Maybe.”

“We all miss you, you know.”

Anakin didn’t know how to respond to that, but didn’t have too long to think about it before Han kept going.

“Is it Tahiri? Does she not want you to see us?”

He tried to control the flare of anger, tried to believe his father was just asking a question and not assigning blame. “It was never Tahiri, it’s me. She feels responsible and regrets her part in what happened on Hapes and the things she said that she can never take back. She wishes that she could change a lot of what was done.”

“So… she told you everything?”

“When I made her. And it wasn't that she was trying to hide what she had done, she was trying to protect me. She was trying to protect me from what all of you had done.”

“And we haven’t seen you because…?”

“Aside from the fact that I’ve been busy fighting a war? Because I’m not ready to deal with it yet. I’m not ready to deal with Mom’s and Jacen’s parts in what happened and I’m not going to ask my wife to spend time with them if I’m not ready to spend time with them.”

“Would she? If you asked her to?”

“Of course.” Anakin sighed and ran and hand through his hair. “Look, do you think Mom is perfect?”

Han rolled his eyes.

Anakin finished with the programming and stood up and faced his father full on, putting his hands on his hips.

“I want to make something really clear before you go back and report this conversation to the rest of the family; at no point did I think that Tahiri was a victim here, or even a remotely innocent party in this situation; I’m not an idiot, I know my wife, I know her faults, and I know better than anyone what kind of mouth she has on her. I was furious with her when I found out everything that happened, and I had no problem imagining exactly what she did or how the whole situation played out. In fact, I moved back out for several weeks while we were working through it, and I spent a lot of time during those several weeks in my therapist’s office, with her and without her. Once I calmed down, I realized that as angry as I was with her, I was angrier with you guys. She was alone; she had no one. You were supposed to take care of my wife and my son, and instead Luke tried to send her to a cluster of black kriffing holes, and you dumped her on strangers. She needed family, Dad. She needed to feel safe, she needed people she knew to help her deal with her grief and how scared and lonely she was and what she got instead was Mom blaming her for my death and Jacen calling her names.

“Tahiri would agree to spend time with them if I asked her to because she loves me and would do anything to make me happy, but aside from that; if given the opportunity, she would do anything she could to fix this. No matter how far we've come, no matter how much she and I have worked through, even though she knows, intellectually, that I forgave her a long time ago, emotionally she still has a hard time with it because she also knows that I will always wish that she had behaved better than she did. She wishes that she had behaved better than she did.”

Han scrubbed a hand over his face. “I think we all wish we that we had behaved better than we did.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You don’t think your mother regrets what happened, or what she’s lost and missed out on because of it?”

“Would she still feel that way if I hadn't accidentally lived? Would it matter to her how things were left with Tahiri if I hadn't turned up? Or would she just go on pretending that the two most important people in my life don’t exist?”

“Look, I understand and respect that you know your wife, but give me some credit for knowing mine, and, I might add, for a little longer. Yes, your mother does regret what happened, and yes, she does regret what she’s missed, it tears her up that she hasn't seen you or Will. But you and me fighting about it ain’t gonna help. We’re probably the only two rational members in this family. If you and I don’t step up and do something this could drag out forever, and I want my family back, Anakin. I want my son and my daughter-in-law, but most of all, I want my grandson, and I’m sorry if putting Will ahead of you hurts your feelings, but I’m trying to be honest here.”

Anakin smiled at his father. “That’s okay, he’s pretty amazing. I’d put him ahead of me too.”

“Can you give them a chance? Can’t you see that they’re sorry?”

Anakin grew serious again and sighed. “Frankly, no. Mom’s made no attempt to apologize, and I’m pretty damn sure Jacen isn’t sorry. Tahiri probably saved Jacen’s life today, and could have gotten herself killed doing it, and he’s been nothing but nasty to her since he walked into my hangar. For whatever reason he wasn't a huge fan of hers before she blamed him for Myrkr, I can’t imagine that he’ll ever like her. In all honestly, I don’t care, but the one thing he’ll have to do, the one thing I will demand, is that he treat her with respect. If today is anything to go by, he’s far from capable of doing that, so I’m far from feeling that a reconciliation is possible.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go bring my wife out of her trance so we can watch her kick Horn’s ass and save the rebellion,” Anakin gave his father a lopsided grin, “… because, there is good in her, after all.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Jaina felt fantastic… really fantastic.

She didn’t know what Yorg put in his Slord Cakes, and apparently neither did Tahiri, but they were great and they made her feel all tingly inside, and every time Jag touched her, her skin radiated warmth.

Screw sending the recipe to Tenel Ka – Jaina wanted Anakin to have Yorg send the recipe to C-3PO. She was going to have to have more of these made and Jag was going to have to try them.

Jaina was perched on Jag’s lap now; ignoring both her father and her brother—the latter she was debating running thru with her lightsaber—and watching the giant heads up display at the front of the room.

Anakin had brought Tahiri out of her ‘juvie’ trance, as he had called it, which Jaina thought was a funny name, and Jaina felt bad for her sister-in-law, and thought maybe she should run back to the bar, or ask Paloma to, to find more cakes for Tahiri so she could feel tingly again after she was done taking Valin down, which, apparently, she was about to do.

The screen at the front of the room was divided into four sections: one was the view from Tahiri’s TIE cockpit, and Jaina was curious as to where in the worlds Tahiri would have learned to fly a TIE, or why there would even be a TIE simulator on Wedge’s ship. One section of the screen was Valin’s view from his X-wing sim; one view was the screen the Rebel Alliance command center would have had to monitor the battle being waged in space over Yavin Four; and the fourth was the view that the Rebels guessed Grand Moff Tarkin would have had from the Command Salon of the Death Star.

The noise in the sim room was loud, the partiers yelling and calling out directions and encouragement to Tahiri and Valin; their own taunts and cajoling broadcast from speakers hanging in the corners of the room.

Tahiri kept up a constant chatter, asking different people if they knew how to say ‘star food’ in various languages, the answer always being ‘Valin’. She asked Valin if he was really full blooded Corellian because every Corellian she’d ever met flew better than he did, then she marveled that Anakin was only half Corellian, and yet twice as good as Valin.

Valin called to Anakin over the speakers - asked him how he put up with Tahiri’s relentless talking, how he stood the continuous drone of her voice, whether or not she talked in her sleep, whether or not he had to hide in the ‘fresher to get away from the grating sound of her nagging, whether or not she nagged him in bed, whether or not she bossed him around in the bedroom.

Anakin sat back, the front legs of his chair tipped off the ground, arms folded over his chest, a wide grin on his face as his delight shone brightly in the Force. He clearly enjoyed watching his wife dog his friend through space. He chuckled and shook his head when Tahiri ripped through Valin’s shields, and then proclaimed that now they were both naked, but that Anakin was more fun to be naked with.

When Tahiri had taken out Valin’s astromech, someone yelled out that now Valin was ‘flying a Solo too’. That brought a ruckus round of hoots and whistles from almost everyone.

The counter wound down to thirty-four seconds, Valin was in the trench, making a pass for the kill on the Death Star, having momentarily given up on shooting Tahiri, when she came out of nowhere, blazing in above and behind him.

Her trajectory was on an intercept course with Valin’s X-Wing; if she didn’t adjust and straighten out in time, she’d meet the surface of the station and explode; if Valin didn’t pull up in time, she’d have him trapped. Valin - trying to hang on long enough to fire his proton torpedoes into the reactor shaft – didn’t pull up in time. Not only did Tahiri pin him in and blast him away – screaming STAR FOOD!!! into her head set – but she fired her TIE’s twin lasers just in time to hit the reactor shaft with a shot of her own, at the last second before she absolutely had to pull up to avoid hitting the surface. She pulled up in time – and veered away as the famed battle station burst into a disk of gold and white gas.

Anakin leapt from his seat, pumping his fists into the air, screaming ‘Yes’, as beings of varied species slapped his back and mussed his hair. He turned toward Bram, gave him a two handed high five, then bound over to Tahiri’s simulator, barely waiting for the door to raise and her to pull her helmet off before he had her out of the cockpit and was swinging her around and kissing her soundly.

When Anakin finally set Tahiri down, she was laughing loudly, head thrown back, ecstatic over her win, then, she ran over to Valin, and jumped into his arms. He, much to Jaina’s surprise, didn’t seem angry or upset, but was laughing as well; shaking his head as Tahiri tickled his ribs and kissed his cheek.

Despite their mutual taunting and goading, it was clear that their competition was just a good time and that they adored each other.


The tingly feeling Jaina had been enjoying faded suddenly and was replaced by sadness. She was suddenly sad that all this fun that she was watching would be forgotten tomorrow, sad that these weren’t her friends and, after tomorrow, never would be. Sad because tomorrow Anakin would find out what their family had come here for; and Anakin was going to be so angry that they’d spent this time together, that he’d included his siblings, and even Han, briefly, in his life, that he’d allowed them into his world, and during their time together none of them had even hinted at what they’d come here to ask of him.

Ramble On/Led Zepplin

 

#17: One of the best let's get down to cases talks ever! Of course, between Anakin and Han - what else would you expect?

Woot! Those cakes! Totally livens up the party. But I do think even though she was more than slightly inebriated, Jaina meant what she said about being sorry.

 

Jaina felt fantastic… really fantastic.

She didn’t know what Yorg put in his Slord Cakes, and apparently neither did Tahiri, but they were great and they made her feel all tingly inside, and every time Jag touched her, her skin radiated warmth.

Screw sending the recipe to Tenel Ka – Jaina wanted Anakin to have Yorg send the recipe to C-3PO. She was going to have to have more of these made and Jag was going to have to try them.

Jaina was perched on Jag’s lap now; ignoring both her father and her brother—the latter she was debating running thru with her lightsaber—and watching the giant heads up display at the front of the room.

That was hilarious.

And then the ending. That doesn't sound promising.

They are screwed. I hope Jaina doesn't get thrown under the bus, but I'm not hopeful.