Leilani had little time to process everything as events unfolded rapidly. Being in shock certainly aided her in coping with the chaos, but as she recovered, her duties resumed without pause. Her health felt off-kilter upon arriving back in Coruscant, the city's concrete jungle closing in on her. She wished things had gone differently, that this return didn't echo the one that had haunted her since "the day she lost everything." It was a memory she'd rather forget. But fate had a twisted sense of humour, and it seemed her return was precisely when she needed to fight for what little remained. As they landed on the platform, her troopers quickly faded into the shadows. Though Anakin and Obi-Wan were there, Leilani didn't even get the chance to say a proper goodbye. The Chancellor was quick to intercept her, preventing her from making any other foolish attempts to speak with someone else or even share a simple chat with her companions.

She felt trapped.

Now more, than in Skimmer's gloved hands.

"Come, my dear. We have much to discuss," the Chancellor said. His voice was syrupy sweet, almost too polished, a tone that set off alarm bells in her mind. Whenever he spoke that way, it was a sure sign that trouble was looming, and being near him felt like standing on the edge of a precipice.

Although, she held her ground. Straightening her posture, she brushed her fingers against the bacta-patch on her neck before following him onto the shuttle along with the other Senators—and only from inside, she took a last glace towards her two protectors.

As the shuttle's door closed behind her, the subtle hum of the engines grew louder, drowning out the voices of those around her. Leilani kept her expression neutral, her eyes scanning the faces of the Senators, searching for any sign of empathy or understanding. Instead, she saw only political ambition and veiled curiosity. The Chancellor sat at the head of the small cabin, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of authority and calculated charm. The Chancellor began to speak, his words filled with praise for her bravery and dedication to the Republic. Yet, Leilani sensed his compliments to be laced with ulterior motives; he spoke of unity and the need for strength in these troubled times, but she could sense the underlying tension, the power plays at work.

At that moment, she wished she could shed her newly acquired title and vanish into obscurity. But as they entered the Senate building and settled onto the marbled couch in the Chancellor's office, the feeling of suffocation grew stronger. Words failed her; her throat felt drier than ever, and she could hardly find her voice — as the Chancellor and Mas Amedda sat across from her, their eyes fixed on her, expecting a response.

Her confidence vanished in a boil of superheated glass.

"It grieves me to say that our only chance to capture Count Dooku could be in the hands of this operation," Palpatine said. "With your authority as Countess of Serenno, this will be a clear way to capture the Count and seal the fate of the war."

"My word and role alone will not be enough to destabilise the entire government. The Duke and Duchess of Solha, along with many of his court are loyal to his cause—not to mention the people. Some are capable of seeing the tyranny behind his actions but just as many would follow his words as law," she said. "We would only push the planet into an unnecessary civil war by invading it under my command."

Palpatine clasped his hands together above the table and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Perhaps if we plan this more carefully, we can turn the Serenno government to our cause," he suggested, his voice deceptively calm.

"With all due respect, Your Excellency, that sounds like manipulative fraud," Leilani replied, her words sharp. "I doubt my people would welcome such machinations, and I refuse to force the Republic's agenda onto innocent civilians. I understand the stakes, but we shouldn't rush into another conflict without knowing if we can even succeed. We might do more harm than good."

Palpatine's expression hardened, though his tone remained controlled. "You underestimate the importance of your role, Lady Serenno. It's not just about heritage or symbolism; you hold a position of real influence," he said, his words laced with subtle threat. "But, as you know, this matter ultimately rests with the Senate. I'm sure they will reach a reasoned and thoughtful decision."

"Very well," was all she could muster. She glanced between Mas Amedda and the Chancellor, searching for even a hint of decency, but their cold expressions offered no comfort. Dismissed without another word, she almost bolted out of the office and into the Senate's corridors, her steps quickening as she walked down the marble-lined halls.

Two Senate guards followed her, providing protection against an increasingly ominous threat. As she walked down the corridor, she felt the weight of the eyes on her—glowering stares from senators and government officials who weren't shy about expressing their disdain, not only for her new role but also for her association with the Jedi. The atmosphere was tense, the hostile glances like shards of glass digging into her resolve, each one a reminder of how precarious her position had become all so suddenly. And while it didn't seem right, or even fitting; she decided to seek out the only ones who could be sharp enough to help her prepare for the Senate and the political conflict.

She gave no thought of failure. She simply needed to speak to the right people and find a solution.

That's how she found herself standing before Padmé Amidala's office door, rapping her knuckles against the hard surface and anticipating the senator's invitation inside. Their bond had grown, largely due to Anakin. Padmé often confided in her, expressing concerns about her husband or simply seeking solace after a trying day—and Leilani was always there for her. They had become friends, united in a world fraught with adversity, both yearning for a return to times of peace. And as their perspectives aligned, their friendship deepened even further. Now, she hoped that it would help the other way around, Padmé being there for her and helping to prepare for the Senate meeting; training her in the ways of diplomacy she only knew the base of. She needed to find her voice, calibrate her tone, and, while sounding convincing, stay true to the facts. To avoid disaster, she had to sway the majority of senators, but the strategy to achieve that was elusive. The next day, she would address thousands of senators, and although her intentions were clear, the path forward was not.

There was only one question in her mind.

How will she do it?

"We need to align the facts and gather examples to support your case," Padmé said as they got comfortable in her office. "After that, it's on you to persuade them. I can offer advice, but in the end, you'll be the one who has to deliver the message."

Leilani sighed. "You know that I am not meant for this, Padmé."

The younger woman rested her hand on Leilani's shoulder. "You've won battles and led sieges. You can definitely stand in front of the Senate. We need to gather allies for your cause. I know we can rely on Senators Organa, Farr, and Mothma, but for the others, we'll need to be convincing enough to bring them to our side."

"Indeed," came a third voice, prompting both women to turn around. "Senator Amidala, Lady Serenno," he greeted, a faint smile on his lips as the door swung shut behind his figure.

Leilani returned the smile. "Senator Organa," she acknowledged with a smile, standing up and stepping forward to welcome him with a light, half-handed embrace.

"Padmé mentioned you're gearing up for your address tomorrow," he said, clasping his hands behind his back as he spoke. "It's good to see you taking the initiative, Leilani. However, you know how volatile the Senate can be, especially now with the war and the growing influence of the Chancellor."

Leilani nodded, her expression tense. "I'm aware. But I'm not just fighting against the tides—I need to steer them in a different direction. Padmé and I were discussing how to structure my speech to get more senators on board."

Senator Organa glanced at Padmé, who gestured for him to continue. "I suggest you focus on your personal experience. Talk about Serenno and the impact the war has had on its people. Humanizing the conflict will resonate with senators who are tired of the constant fighting. But be careful; Palpatine's been sowing seeds of distrust against the Jedi for a while now and your appearance in this matter can only worsen that thought in many."

"That is exactly my concern."

Padmé added, "It's important to acknowledge your Jedi background, but rather focus on your role as a leader. Highlight your efforts to bring peace to Serenno and how the people there are suffering from the ongoing conflict. Mention your desire to avoid unnecessary violence and propose diplomatic solutions where possible."

"I agree, you have to convince people to stand up for what they think is right."

Leilani listened intently, her brow furrowing. "That sounds like a solid approach. But I'm worried about the more aggressive senators, those who see military action as the only way to end this war. How do I address their concerns without losing the support of the moderates?"

Bail raised an eyebrow, considering his words carefully. "You'll need to find a balance between strength and diplomacy. Acknowledge the need for security and defence, but emphasise that you're looking for sustainable solutions that won't lead to more bloodshed."

Padmé interjected, "Be aware that some senators are heavily influenced by Palpatine's rhetoric. They see the Jedi as a threat and may view your connection to them with suspicion."

"And some minds can't be altered, no matter what they hear," said Bail.

Leilani felt herself blanch. Yet accepted it anyway.

She was going to fight; only this time, instead of her sabre, her words were supposed to be her weapons.

Bail Organa was the finest public speaker the Senate has ever known, carrying a certain weight Leilani could only aim to ever do; so she absorbed his words. They stayed and talked until late, and as Leilani felt her static headache forming from all the information, they switched, limiting their words to personal ones, catching up easily while sipping on a drink. She did enjoy the company of the two, she was comfortable and while being in the Senate building, also safe.

As it got terribly late, they all departed, Organa walking down the stairs to the hangar bay; while Padmé and Leilani had drivers waiting for them in front of the building. With one last exchange, they said goodbye, going in opposite directions. Leilani hopped onto the back seat, leaning slightly back as the ship's engines started, letting all the air out from her lungs which she didn't know she held in. The invisible hand of anxiety gripped her throat, the exact same way how her brother force-chocked her all those years ago; viciously holding her up against her will, keeping her at bay while everything was smoothed over. Yet she was never the obedient one, not then, not ever. With one last ghost of a touch to her neck, she blinked slowly, as they reached the street to their old apartment. Dooku had brought the place months after he became the Count of Serenno, mostly for official meetings, or simply to be able to stay on Coruscant and yet not have to reside at the Jedi Temple; and just as she felt her heart clenching as she saw the door to the building, now it felt right to stay there too. It was on the upper levels of Coruscant, reasonably close to the Temple still, yet far enough to be unbothered, and not bound by duties.

She remained in a daze, unaware that a masked figure was watching her from a nearby rooftop, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The shuttle moved sluggishly over the crowded street, its lights dimmed by the fog hanging over Coruscant. Yet the bounty hunter had a clear shot, and without hesitation, they targeted the shuttle's engines. The right sublight engine caught fire within seconds, causing the shuttle to lose control. Leilani barely had time to react as the pilot panicked, frantically trying to regain control by pulling the wheel in the opposite direction; but instead of stabilising, the shuttle began a rapid descent.

Leilani scanned the surroundings, searching for the sniper, even as the shuttle plummeted. Nothing stood out amidst the chaos. She reached forward, tapping the pilot's shoulder to get his attention, signalling that it was time to abandon the ship. He was in shock, his hands gripping the wheel as if sheer force could change their fate.

"Jump," she urged, her voice firm despite the panic setting in. She knew they had only seconds to act. She stood on shaky legs, focusing on the nearest rooftop, the only safe spot within reach. The air felt thick in her lungs, her body fuelled by adrenaline as she prepared to leap. She tapped into the Force, feeling it flow through her senses, guiding her as she made the jump.

Her high-heeled boots hit the durasteel roof half a click away, the impact sending shockwaves up her legs. She turned to see the twi'leki pilot struggling to follow, so she reached out with the Force, giving him the boost he needed to make it to safety, as the shuttle continued its uncontrolled fall disappearing into the fog below with a deafening crash.

"Are you alright?" she reached to help up the man.

He shook his head. "I'm fine...thanks to you, Countess."

It was far from over.

Another laser bolt cut through the air, and as Leilani turned to deflect it, the twi'leki pilot leaped forward. His motion was swift and selfless, his body intercepting the shot meant for her. The blaster bolt struck him square in the chest, the force of the impact sending him tumbling to the ground. He grimaced in pain but maintained eye contact with Leilani as she ignited her sabre and crouched down in front of the man.

Her eyes softened as she touched his wound, her fingers brushing over the torn fabric. She absently deflected another blaster shot with her lightsaber, her attention locked on the injured pilot. The world around her seemed to fade as she focused on comforting him in his final moments. She whispered soothing words, her voice gentle, not wanting him to feel alone as his strength ebbed away. The vibrant blue of his eyes dimmed as life drained from him.

"*Inay sehrian tanara, as a drakkon talar," he whispered, trying to sit up. Leilani reached out, cradling his head in her lap, and gently eased him back down. "**Serei caelan ethal siemah."

"***Ki, entra caelan ethal," she whispered back, her words laced with sorrow.

Serennian.

The realisation struck her like a Lylek's sting.

This man—her own subject—had given his life in a fight that shouldn't have happened. He had died for her, the leader meant to be their hope, their salvation. And it was her failure that had led to this. A tear escaped and rolled down on her cheek as she gently closed his eyelids for the last time, the weight of his sacrifice pressing down on her. She knew she had to do something—anything—to ensure his death was not in vain, to honour what he gave up for her and for their people.

The bounty hunter eventually retreated into the bustling streets as the robot police arrived, but Leilani could barely bring herself to stand, even after the body was taken from her lap. The composed facade of a Countess cracked, revealing a woman sitting in the middle of a dusty alley, her dignity shattered, with curious onlookers watching her every move.

"He was Serennian," she repeated over and over again.

Losing a soldier on the battlefield was not unusual for her, and she rarely had time to grieve properly. As a General—and a Jedi, no less—she couldn't allow herself to cry or show weakness; there was no room for slowing down. But this time, it felt different.

A hooded figure drew near, the cloak pulled low over their head. Leilani didn't even register when they lifted her from the pavement, picking her up as if she weighed nothing. She didn't resist; her body refused to comply with her mind's instincts or the rapid pounding of her heart. Instead, she accepted that, for once, she wasn't in control—of the events, of her body, of anything. She let the stranger lead, allowing herself to rest in their arms.

To the man, she felt as light as a child, and as he cradled her in his arms, he channelled the Force to soothe her, easing the pain that had drawn her inward. The faint, ragged semblance of who she once was seemed almost tragic. It reminded him of Corellia, once again, of a time when Leilani would instinctively draw closer to him, how she'd find comfort in his presence, and he in hers. He remembered how she would relax with each gentle touch, her anxiety melting away, and how he cherished those moments. His eyes never left her, always on the lookout for any sign of discomfort or distress. He would focus all his energy on grounding her, even as his own fears gnawed at him—fears about the uncertainties of tomorrow. Holding her now, he felt like a Padawan again, like a young boy lost in a dark forest, carrying the one person who meant everything to him, hoping that by some miracle, things would turn out okay, and wishing everything would be different after all.

Memories...that was all he had now; and that was—by his thoughts—all he honoured as he noticed her and opted to help on his way back to the temple, from Dex's Diner.

One thing he wasn't sure about...if he dared to change that. To be friends again, rather than reminders of the past.

The shock had knocked Leilani out for the night, especially after Obi-Wan laid her in her bed at the temple—she couldn't recall how she got there, but she was profoundly grateful to find herself waking up in the morning, safe and sound. As she stretched and yawned, her eyes wandered through her old quarters, carefully sidestepping the flood of memories they threatened to bring. Instead, she rummaged through her cupboard, seeking something appropriate for the Senate meeting. Her fingers found a long, dark-purple gown, a gift from Dooku, its fabric still smooth and rich in colour; and as it miraculously still fit her form, she felt it almost to be encouraging and yet ironic. It was to be a long day.

* Inay sehrian tanara, as a drakkon talar — "Protect our people, as the dragon promised" in ancient serennian language

** Serei caelan ethal siemah — "May I enter the eternal sleep" in ancient serennian language

*** Ki, entra caelan ethal — "Yes, you may enter eternity" in ancient serennian language