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Fallen	By : serendip Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 3106 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. This story is for entertainment purposes only. No infringement of rights is intended. I do not make any profit from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Fallen
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-the end...
- 12
- 13
- 14
The hum of a lightsaber slicing through the air was unmistakable – it was a sound Bria had become quite familiar with in the past year – that and the sounds that always followed –
"Bam! Pow! Whakam!
"Take that, you tinnies!"
Oh dear... Bria closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping. Where on all of Coruscant had he learned that? "Ben! Come here please."
The cherubic face of the five year old boy appeared in the doorway that led to the terrace. It was a small terrace and an even smaller patch of synthetic grass, but on the capitol planet it was enough, a lot really, and Bria was proud of it.
She looked at his innocent little face for a moment, trying not to smile. "Please, darling, keep it down, okay? Lily is sleeping."
"Uh! But Mommy!"
"Ben," she warned.
The little boy's shoulders slumped in defeat and he swung his 'lightsaber' around dejectedly hitting it against the ground. "When can I go back to school, mommy?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. Soon, I think."
The battle over Coruscant had been devastating. It had only been a couple of days since, but she had no idea when the schools could reopen. Unfortunately, her husband hadn't had so much as a morning off, though.
He worked near the center of the Senate District; his building had been damaged and he'd only narrowly escaped being buried in the rubble. Overcome with the fear that such a thing could happen here at home, she had begged him to take one day off but he insisted he was fine – and the mess left behind would not clean itself up.
And of course, no, they couldn't afford it. So she'd kept quiet, but she knew his back was bothering him. And she knew he would never admit it.
She wanted to call him, as she used to every afternoon, but his comlink had been destroyed and she had kept the extra in case of an emergency with the children. Sighing quietly, she was careful to keep they worry from showing on her face. "Go and play, Ben. I'll make you a snack."
"Okay."
Bria moved about the kitchen, prepping dinner and cutting up fruit for Ben and she didn't notice when the emergency broadcast came on overriding Ben's holovid and she didn't notice when Chancellor Palpatine started speaking, not really listening over the sound of Ben playing outside.
"Bzz."
'The Jedi...'
"Szhoom."
'conspired to create the shadow...'
"Psshhhhht."
'grind the Republic into ruin...'
Wait. What? The words came together in her head and Bria dropped the knife she'd been chopping with and moved to the old couch in front of the view screen. Captivated, she brushed toys aside as she sat down, her heart beating just a little faster than it had before.
'But the hatred in their hearts could not be hidden forever. At last, there came a day when our enemies showed their true natures.
The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power...'
"Mommy, what..."
"Go to your room." It came out much harsher than she meant and a flash of guilt coursed through her as his face fell. "Sweetheart, can you play in your room for a bit?" She asked, softer.
"But mommy – "
"Why don't you set up that game you like. I'll be there in a minute."
"Okay!"
Bria turned up the sound...
'...but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled.'
Jedi rebellion? She truly didn't know what to think. How could it be possible? The Jedi she had met, less than a year ago...
He had been so kind, and thoughtful...
Wanting to take Lily and Ben out and let them play in the sunshine, she'd packed a lunch and a bag for the baby and they had left for the park. Getting there had been nothing short of an expedition. Ben was loud and wouldn't sit still, and Lily, she was sure, had decided to start teething, which included copious amounts of crying and drool, the very moment they'd left the apartment.
As soon as they'd arrived at the park, the baby had needed to be changed, but with the gleaming enormous play structure within view, towing Ben to the 'fresher was not an option. Children were much stronger than they looked.
That was when he appeared, as if from the heavens above. "I wonder if I might be of some assistance..."
Ben had noticed immediately, as Bria had, the telltale brown robe and silver cylinder. "You're a Jedi!" The young boy exclaimed. Bria hadn't even known that Ben knew who the Jedi were, but with the war and all, she resigned herself to the fact that he must have picked it up somewhere.
"I – uh," Bria stuttered. Surely, letting your young son go off with a stranger was not considered good parenting. It was just then little Lily let out a long suffering wail that Bria was not sure her eardrums would ever recover from.
"Yes," she said quickly before the bearded Jedi came to his senses and changed his mind. "Thank you. I'll just be a second."
"We'll be right over there." The smile he flashed her was warm and genuine even as Ben jumped up and down excitedly and began tugging on his robe.
Bria frowned at the memory now, she had not even thought to ask his name. But she knew there had been no 'hatred in his heart'. If the Senate was half as corrupt as she had heard...
Even so, no one was above the law.
Could the Jedi have done what the Chancellor was saying?
As each new worry came to mind, she felt a nervous flutter of uncertainty in her chest and had a sudden desperate aching to talk to her husband. She hoped he would be home soon.
But then she could hear Lily babbling from her crib, and Ben called to her, so she shut off the screen and stood up, rubbing absently at her forehead. Dinner needed to be made, and there were children to be tended to, and life went on.

'The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power against the Republic by assassinating the head of government and usurping control of the clone army. But the aims of would-be tyrants were valiantly opposed by those without elitist, dangerous powers. Our loyal clone troopers contained the insurrection within the Jedi Temple and quelled uprisings on a thousand worlds.
The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!
Well, serves them right. The arrogant, self-serving lot of them.
That was Jace Ryen's primary thought. Then an image flashed through his mind – an old bar on a an outer-rim planet and a trusting, unshakeable young woman. The way she had looked at Jace...
And the Jedi – the way she had looked at him – knowing and innocent, all at the same time. So sure of what she believed, so sure of him. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.
"Mr. Ryen?" The soft feminine voice of his secretary over the office comlink broke him from his thoughts and he punched off the radio, not having any interest in listening to the rest of the declaration. "Not now," he answered, grimacing.
Kriffing Jedi. Up until a few months ago he'd only encountered them once before.
His parents murder had been a planet-spanning incident, so heinous and ridden with mystery the Jedi had been asked to aid in the investigation. And they had come to the conclusion within a matter of a few kriffing hours that the 15 year old son was the primary suspect.
Jace understood the theory: the sole living family member, set to inherit billions, was unlikely to escape suspicion, but that didn't negate the trauma of being accused of killing his mother and father. As a reckless and defiant teenager, Jace Ryen was guilty of a great many things, but murder was not one of them. For all their supposed power in The Force, the Jedi who had investigated him hadn't been able to figure that out for too long.
Jace shook his head, pushing those memories back to the depths from which they had surfaced. It had been a living nightmare he had no desire to dwell on. And at the tender age of 16, after a horrible year of interrogations and trials, his personal struggle for innocence came to an end, but no one was any closer to figuring out the dark mystery behind who had killed his parents and he had decided the next time he came across a Jedi...
Well, he'd grown up since then, but the hatred, and he knew deep down, fear, was still there.
Lost in thought, he shuffled the few impersonal items he had on his desktop moving them out of their neat arrangement and back again. The second time he had encountered the Jedi: It had only been a moment, one evening in his life as an informant, but on the back of what he had learned, and in the uncertainty of these dark times he'd decided to rely on his instinct and put his trust in someone. That was not something he gave easily, but he had to admit she had not disappointed him. Kenobi had been, not surprisingly, arrogant and assuming – and the experience had been as humiliating as one would expect – but he had been understanding as well, in the end.
Jace had made it his business to know a lot about people; he did trust Aala and he had not missed any of the looks the two had given each other.
His sharp gaze fell on the top drawer of his expensive Kriin-wood desk where he knew there was a piece of flimsi with a name and a comm code. If anyone asked, nothing more than a way to contact a pretty girl he'd met in a bar...
He wondered if they were together – if they were even still alive. He didn't want any Jedi to be in charge... but an Empire, he didn't want that either. He'd seen evil, he knew what it looked like, what it sounded like.
There were sure to be many, even on Corellia alone, that would agree.
Jace glanced at the door to his inner office, and hit the comm again, "I'm going to be busy for a couple hours," he said to the secretary as he stood up.
The bright light came on as the door slid open to the private room where he kept his more sensitive projects. At the moment, he was working on the listening device he'd made, adapting it to work at a farther range and he hoped, eventually, to make it subcutaneous, as well – a completely undetectable piece of spy technology. The possibilities were limitless in his mind, and it seemed there was no time like the present.
He would continue to fight for his own freedoms. As usual, he just wasn't sure exactly who he was fighting.

'The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated! Any collaborators will suffer the same fate. These have been trying times, but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire...'
Collaborators...
Intent on listening, her full attention focused on the speech, Sola Naberrie took in each word with the studious attention that was her nature, until this point. The full impact of Chancellor Palpatine's meaning hit her like a ton of duracrete.
Collaborators. One word, nothing more than a catch-all to prosecute anyone he damn well felt like prosecuting.
She'd felt distinct concern for her two younger sisters for the past three years: As she well knew both their involvement in the war had increased exponentially.
But now, after everything they had done, where would this leave them? Padmé had been a strong proponent, speaking out against the war and even some of Palpatine's own decisions as of late... But Aala...
The words she had spoken to her months ago, words of caring and reverence for one man in particular – seemed like nothing more than a death sentence now.
The first time Aala had called to speak of this she'd told Sola everything about her long relationship with Obi-Wan Kenobi – from the end of the blockade, rekindled when Aala moved to Coruscant, years of romantic clandestine rendezvous' – okay, maybe I'm dramatizing, Sola thought with a tiny smile – and then how Aala felt she'd truly messed it up. Later, she'd told her they had... talked... and Sola had seen Aala happier than she'd ever been before.
And she knew, because she knew her sister, that Aala was in love and she hadn't realized, not yet anyway, but those things took time.
It seemed it was time they would no longer have.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Jedi and all Jedi were now declared enemies of the Republic; and any collaborators, as well. That meant... surely, they weren't...
Sola's hands clasped together as she bowed her head, hoping against hope. It was not fair, it could not be true. How could the Galaxy be so cruel?
A glance out the window of their cozy kitchen assured Sola her girls were safe and sound, playing in the garden – Ryoo, her dark hair shining in the sunlight, picking the blue and yellow flowers of her namesake with a serious expression, and Pooja, her lighter colored curls bouncing as she giggled and danced around her sister – and she was reminded of Aala and Padmé when they were young. She knew they thought themselves incurably different from the other but she had always seen their similarities more than anything else.
Aala and her keen search for truth; Padmé and her fierce defense of justice. Both fought for the same thing.
The Declaration wore on. Sola's husband came to stand behind her, his hand lifting to press assuredly against her shoulder as he listened with her. Leaning toward him, she was grateful for his solid, unspoken support. Sola was sure Padmé was safe, in the Senate. But Aala, if she was with Obi-Wan, if she was as devoted as Sola suspected, the danger she was in was unspeakable.
Anger and frustration welled up in her. Galactic Empire – the mere principal of it went against everything she believed in, every ounce of her wanted to scream in protest. It was pure tyrannical evil.
Oh, Aala, she thought, please be okay.
But more than anything else she feared that by the time she would be able to reach either of her sisters it would be far too late.

The call had been sudden, short and nearly unbearable. 'Come now. Urgent.' and a set of coordinates, all in code.
Aala procured a ship, a small one, from Bail's collection and sat for a whole minute at the helm trying to remind herself what to do. She hadn't had a license in a very long time.
Her vision was blurry. Her heart was racing, but everything was moving in slow motion. She could feel the darkness, it was closing in, choking her.
She hated flying and making her way to this rock in the middle of nowhere hadn't been easy. Especially under trying circumstances.
If she'd had any presence of mind, she would've thought it odd that she seemed to know where she was going. She couldn't have slowed down if she'd wanted to.
Padmé had to be alright, had to be. She could feel her still... she had to be alright.
There was a corridor, everything was dark and cold. She pushed a door open, turned a corner – what she saw would be burned into her memory forever. Bail and Yoda were off to the right looking through the glass wall in front of them. Padmé was laying on a table in white, bright lights illuminating her still figure. Obi-Wan was with her... pulling the white sheet up and over her head.
Everything stopped. She heard someone cry out – it wasn't until a moment later she realized it was herself. She fell to her knees, sick with anguish – simply unable to hold herself up. Sobbing, she couldn't breathe, tears were already making heavy tracks down her cheeks. Bail rushed to her side, catching her in his arms before she crumpled to the floor. She clung to him, not able to take her eyes off Padmé's motionless form. It would be so easy, too easy to pretend it wasn't her when she couldn't see her face. But she knew.

When he'd first met her...
Aala had seemed bright eyed and eager, happy and amiable. Everything Bail wanted for this internship, they'd told him. Certainly, she was easy to get along with, she'd proven herself knowledgeable and intelligent from the start as he went over the workings of the office of the Viceroy and the first day had gone well enough.
The next week, the very first issue he assigned her to work with him on, gone was the happy go lucky girl he hadn't thought was right for the job – she turned serious and frank, voicing her disagreement without hesitation. And then she'd flat out told him he was wrong, and he knew this working relationship was sure to work out just fine.
She shared his passion for fighting for what was right in spades, and she worked tirelessly, always in motion. Her sharpness and intuition proved invaluable to him and she was promoted within the year. Thankfully, position didn't matter much to her. The title of Ambassador, while not necessarily precise, gave her access to any number of important places and things – she was like a second pair of eyes and ears, an assistant, an advisor, and over time he was glad to say she had come to be a friend, as well.
Aala was the very definition of pragmatic. Through the best and worst of times she could be unemotional and to the point; commonsensical; efficient.
None of those descriptions seemed to apply to her right now.
He had been the one to tell her Obi-Wan was dead after the ordeal on Jabiim. The shock on her face was instantaneous and transparent, but she remained silent. She grieved on her own and then went back to work.
He'd seen more emotion from her in that one moment, than he ever had, and that was when he knew how she felt about that particular Jedi. He had never been more happy to end up proven wrong about General Kenobi's mortality, because if there was anyone in this galaxy that deserved a bit of happiness, it was her.
The pain on Obi-Wan's face now was as evident to Bail as Aala's reaction to Obi-Wan's death, though he knew both people to be thoroughly schooled in controlling emotion. Overcome with Aala's outpouring of grief, Obi-Wan seemed unable to move.
Bail looked up to him, helplessly; he had never seen her cry – surely, Obi-Wan had at least seen a tear here or there, but it didn't seem he knew what to do now either. Bail watched as Obi-Wan forced his own composure as much as he could and came to her, a purposeful urgency in his step.
As Obi-Wan moved toward her, her gaze was finally pulled away from Padmé's body and then locked on to him. He knelt to the ground in front of her.
"Please," she whispered between sobs. "Please, no..." Bail carefully disentangled himself from her, letting her fall into Obi-Wan's sure embrace. Obi-Wan held her close; she just kept pleading with him to make this not real.
Bail stood and turned away, fighting desperately to hold himself together. He didn't know one person could hold that much pain and sorrow and survive it. Padmé hadn't.

Two things had always been a struggle for Aala Naberrie: sitting still and letting go of a grudge. With age and experience had come the ability of control – enough to be able to sit through countless meetings, sessions, committees – the worst the Senate could throw at her, but she had never truly had any patience and she doubted she ever would.
Sitting through those countless meetings, sessions and committees, dealing with any variety of personalities, Aala had also learned a lot about controlling her temper. Holding a grudge became irrelevant if you didn't get angry in the first place.
But here in this moment, after everything, she felt like she was thirteen again and she felt like acting like it, too. It just wasn't fair.
Obi-Wan had tried, she knew he had – they had sat together for a long time in that tiny kitchen unit, her hand grasped assuredly in his own, but Aala could not shake the treacherous feelings that were weighing her down.
Now, they were preparing to leave Polis Massa, after what felt like months to Aala, though it had only been hours, and she found herself wandering the corridors of the Tantive aimlessly, restless and angry.
A quiet noise inside a room she was approaching stopped her in her tracks. It was Obi-Wan's voice, she would know that in a heartbeat, but she'd never heard it used in that way, in all the 13 years she had known him. Singing...
She tip-toed to the doorway and peeked in, her breath catching at the scene. Obi-Wan, the features of his handsome face relaxed in a way she hadn't been expecting, was holding one tiny baby in his arms; Aala knew Padmé had given birth to twins, and she knew they were healthy but she admonished herself for not even knowing their names, she hadn't thought to ask.
The soft strains of the simple melody were soothing, Obi-Wan's tone warm and even. She recognized the lullaby he was singing to the little one and wondered where he could have learned it. The baby cooed softly as the song ended and grasped at the air with it's tiny fist. Obi-Wan offered his finger and chuckled as the baby tugged his pinky into it's little mouth.
In that one moment, the ice in Aala's heart melted away, her grief shrank into the background and she could see light again. She could, even if it was just for a minute, forget how it had all ended, to know Padme and Anakin's love had been real, and out of it had come these two beautiful little babies. Maybe... maybe it could be okay. Hope could come in even the smallest of forms.
"They won't bite," the sound of his deep voice startled her. Even his half teasing smile was contagious and she couldn't help rolling her eyes at him.
"You're the one I'm worried about," she said finally stepping into the room.
"Only if you ask nice."
She envied his effortless ability to find levity in any moment. Stopping in front of him, Aala ran her fingertips across the baby's soft forehead then looked over her shoulder at the sleeping form in the cradle behind her.
"They're beautiful..." Her eyes stung with unshed tears.
"This is Leia," he offered, "and that is Luke," he nodded toward the baby boy.
Both were quiet, peaceful... amazing... wonderful. She smiled, "How do you tell them apart?"
He looked at her, his blue eyes piercing. "Their Force signatures - are quite different."
"So, they're..."
"Very strong."
"Well, how do I tell them apart?" she joked and he smiled back.
"May I?" she asked quietly.
"Of course," he shifted the baby into Aala's arms, his movements gentle and slow; and she cradled Leia close to her chest.
"Let me get you a bottle. I think she's hungry; she's been trying to get nourishment from my little finger and I don't think it's working."
As Aala sat down on the sleep couch in the small room, little Leia looked up into her eyes and it was the most incredible experience she had ever been a part of.

AN: Nearing the end of this story, please let me know what you think :) Thanks for reading ~Ashley
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Fallen