⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

All warfare is based on deception.

—Sun Tzu

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Melanie was a little girl, she always used to love stringing up the lights on the tree at Christmas time.

She loved the bright colors of the bulbs and the way they made the ornaments sparkle.

The thing she had always hated, however, was untangling them. It was her least favorite part of the whole experience. Half the time, her mom had given in to Melanie's childlike whines for help; the woman letting out a sigh of exasperation, before finally reaching over to help her with her meager task.

As Melanie grew older, her mom gradually started to deny her requests for help; insisting that Melanie untangle the lights for herself.

It builds character, her mom had said, wiggling her eyebrows playfully.

One year, the Christmas lights were tangled in the worst ball of wires Melanie had ever seen.

"Ugh!" Melanie let out, slamming the ball of useless multicolored lights down to the floor. "This is hopeless, Mom! Let's just go out and buy some more."

Across the room, her mother continued to lay out fragile glass ornaments to prepare them for hanging on the Christmas tree.

"Hmmm... no." Ms. Bains finally replied, simply giving a nonchalant shrug as she reached down to pick up another ornament. "They're perfectly good lights. There's no reason to give up on them yet."

Melanie groaned in frustration. "But just look at this, Mom! I'll never get it all untangled."

Ms. Bains glanced over her shoulder, gazing at her daughter with a fond smile. "Sure you can! Just one strand at a time."

Melanie stares out into the city of Coruscant, thumbing gently at the gold locket that hangs from the column of her throat.

A cool breeze of air rushes over her, rustling golden strands of hair that hangs over her shoulder.

To her left, the sizzle of the charcoal grill she received from Madame Jocasta a few months ago crackles over her eardrums, pulling her back to the present.

Slowly, her eyes lower to the sheets of paper pressed against the brylark wood leaning on her lap.

Her green eyes scan over the timeline of events she has written down each night to try and commit them to memory; thinking over how there is still so much left to do.

Anakin kills the tuskens.

Anakin confesses to Padmé.

Anakin marries Padmé.

Anakin never tells anyone what happened.

She flips the first page over, reading the words that have been scribbled further down on the back.

Aayla Secura and her battalion are overrun by the Separatists, and are forced to retreat.

Anakin and the 501st are sent to rescue Aayla, and Anakin is heavily injured while holding back an explosion.

She crumples the first page up into a ball, tossing the words into the fire.

The sizzle of burning paper reaches her ears as she numbly begins to read the words on the second page of notes.

After losing contact with a medical station orbiting Felucia, Anakin, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are sent to investigate.

Once they arrive, Anakin, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are attacked by the Separatists, and are forced to crashland on Felucia, where they will then encounter a village of small aliens that will request their help against the pirates that have been raiding their villages.

Melanie grimaces at the words, the wide grin of Hondo Ohnaka flashing behind her eyes, making her curl her lips up in disgust.

Ugh, she is so not looking forward to meeting that asshole.

It's almost funny how a murderous and bloodthirsty pirate becomes suddenly so not cute when they are real.

She shakes the thought away, forcing her mind back to the present moment at hand.

God, so much shit has gone wrong already.

She takes a moment to think about that; over how much Palpatine has already messed things up, or set horrible things in motion in this universe.

And there's still so much more to come.

It almost feels like Palpatine has twisted this entire universe up into one big ball of tangled strands of darkness.

How the hell is she ever supposed to unthread it all?

Sometimes, she swears she can even see it; the way the dark cords drag behind the Jedi Order's feet like weighted chains tied to the ground. The way strings of barbed shadows gradually constrict around the skin of their necks, making them clear their throats, rubbing at their chests in confusion.

It's like a thickening noose is tightening over each of their necks; one that only Melanie can see. Over the years, the strings have been meticulously attached to the ends of Palpatine's wrinkled fingers; the disguised Sith Lord simply itching for the right moment when he can finally lift his hand up to strangle all of his puppets in one fell swoop.

Melanie's jaw clenches, choking down the bitter horror rising up in her chest.

None of that has happened yet. She still has time.

And yet, sometimes—

Sometimes, she looks at the Jedi walking through the halls of the Temple like they're all already dead.

She squeezes her eyes shut, swallowing down the wet lump of dread bubbling up in her throat.

Fuck, how the hell can she ever do this?

God, she can't. She can't do it. Not all by herself. She's just one person.

Ms. Bains glanced over her shoulder, gazing at her daughter with a fond smile. "Sure you can! Just—"

"—One strand at a time." Melanie murmurs under her breath.

She blinks open her eyes, staring numbly down at the written timeline of events again.

She takes the words in, thinking over how far she has left to go to make it to the end of this war.

And then she thinks over what she has already accomplished.

Ryloth. The Jedi holocron. Getting Barriss on her side.

Slowly, she releases a shuddering breath of air.

And then she crumples up the rest of the pages, before tossing them into the fire.

A few seconds pass as she stares down at the flames, watching the words burn to ash.

She is yanked sharply back to reality as a rapid series of knocks sounds out across the wide expanse of her room, echoing from the other side of the door.

That must be Ahsoka.

The young Togruta mentioned to Melanie a few days ago how Barriss was going to have an interview with the reporter, Yoova Kastle, to talk more about the war. Somehow, Ahsoka's wide eyes and pleading expression had wrapped Melanie into coming along with the Padawans before she could even realize what happened.

Melanie sighs, rubbing at her aching forehead as she turns off the sci-fi charcoal grill, before slowly dragging herself through the glass doors of her outdoor balcony and back into her room.

She haphazardly throws the brylark wood into the crate at the foot of her bed, and then makes her way over to answer her door.

She taps a random code into the touchpad beside the wall of her door, watching as it swishes open, revealing Ahsoka's bright orange features.

"Hey, Mel!" Ahsoka gives her a blinding grin, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. "You ready to go?"

Melanie swallows down the urge to tell Ahsoka no, simply forcing an artificial smile to her lips. "Yep. I was just waiting for you."

As Melanie and Ahsoka begin to walk down the hall and to the turbolift, Melanie opens her mouth to ask Ahsoka a final question.

"Where's Barriss?" she asks, green eyes flickering around the wide stone hallway in confusion. "Are we meeting her at the Senate building?"

Ahsoka laughs, nudging her side playfully as they both come up to the turbolift entrance. "No, silly! Barriss just had to talk to Master Luminara about something. She'll meet us down in the hangar bay in a few minutes."

Melanie watches as Ahsoka's small hand reaches out to tap at the blinking buttons of the sci-fi box.

The doors swish open, and then they both step inside.

As the turbolift begins to descend down to the hangar bay of the Temple, Ahsoka's high-pitched voice travels over towards her ears for a final time.

"Are you excited to get to see Barriss in action?" Ahsoka asks, tilting her head to the side to gaze up at Melanie's taller form.

Melanie holds back a grimace, recalling the utterly vicious barbs Ahsoka had been forced to dodge during each minute of her interview with Yoova Kastle a few months back.

Barriss has already been through many interviews like these. Melanie knows that.

And yet, a part of her dreads the next few hours to come.

Barriss has just recently had a change of heart on her thoughts on the validity of the war, and something deep in the dark recesses of Melanie's mind can't help but screech at her that fuck, Barriss isn't ready, she's not fucking ready; she'll crumble under the pressure, slipping back into old habits at the first sign of Yoova's emotional manipulation, and fuck, fuck, fuck—!

She blinks, a gray fog clearing from her eyes as she forces her mind back to the present.

"Absolutely ecstatic." Melanie mutters.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Across the city of Coruscant, Chancellor Palpatine leans his elbows on the large steel desk in his office, chin perching regally against his clasped hands.

His dark eyes track the motions of the holorecording continuing to play out in front of him, watching with chilling precision as Advisor Bains stares straight at the camera, before the woman purposefully turns away to march over to stand next to General Windu.

Beside him, the blue glow of his apprentice flickers; the distance of star systems slightly warping the connection.

"And you are absolutely certain, Master, that you do not wish for me to arrange an... accident?" Dooku's voice crackles gruffly over the line.

Palpatine chuckles, raising a hand in a gesture of dismissal. "No, no. There is no need for such barbarities, my apprentice." He reaches out to turn off the holorecording, before turning to face Dooku's direction. "Besides, I would like to have the chance to meet this... Advisor Bains. She may prove to be quite useful."

He watches with amusement as Dooku's holographic features flicker with frustration.

But his apprentice says nothing; simply jerking his head in a curt nod. The former Jedi is no fool. Dooku remains very aware of what can occur if he disobeys his Master. Palpatine has made certain of that.

As the connection ends, Palpatine rises up from his desk, turning to gaze out of the large glass viewport that spans the length of his office.

He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his Senatorial robes, dark eyes scanning over the massive shape of the Jedi Temple in the distance.

His upper lip just barely curls into the ghost of a snarl.

One day, he will see that Temple razed to the ground.

Patience, the dark mass inside of him croons. Have patience.

The Sith Lord hums, wrinkled features gradually slackening back to that of a picture-perfect politician.

Far in the distance, a trail of smoke rises from the side of the Jedi Temple.

Palpatine narrows his eyes.

"Curious." he murmurs under his breath.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Melanie stares off into space, mind far away, as she waits for Barriss to finish her ongoing interview with Yoova Kastle.

Barriss had been pleasantly surprised that Melanie had decided to come along with her and Ahsoka to her interview. The Mirialan Padawan's bright expression had softened Melanie's heart even more; another crack forming in the icy wall separating Melanie from everyone else around her.

This, of course, is very annoyingly inconvenient. It would be much easier altogether if Melanie could simply remain objective about the events that could still come to pass from certain individuals in the future.

Sadly, she is beginning to realize that remaining politely indifferent is easier said than done.

Her lips pinch together with tension, features flickering with annoyance.

Ugh! Stupid fucking weak-willed heart!

Vaguely, on some offhanded level, she just barely registers the sound of Barriss's soft-spoken voice booming over the speakers of the stage.

"—Yes, while I too agree that war is a terrible tragedy for all involved, I have grown to realize that it is sometimes necessary to help—"

"—Necessary?" Reporter Kastle's voice is like the crack of a whip as he hones in on the one word he can use to twist the conversation to his advantage. "Now, that is something bold to say indeed, folks. The Jedi apparently believe killing and invading planets to be necessary—"

Melanie's teeth grind together. Rage bubbles beneath the surface of her skin, threatening to erupt from her throat in a sharp stream of curses and insults to the infuriating man in question out beneath the blinding lights of the stage in front of the Senate building.

Just as Melanie is about to completely fucking lose it, Barriss opens her mouth to reply to the Coruscanti Reporter.

"You misunderstand me, sir." Barriss cuts in with a surprising level of firmness. "And the Jedi."

Melanie blinks, snapping her head to gaze out past the small makeshift curtain that has been set up on each side of the stage, green eyes scanning over the scene happening mere feet away from her with complete shock.

"Oh?" Yoova's eyebrows raise.

Barriss nods, alien-like features filled with determination. "Yes. I have come to realize—just as the rest of the Jedi have been forced to realize—that while war is a terrible thing to endure; it is also something that one must do, if we are to continue to defend the planets that cannot protect themselves."

Melanie stares, a flicker of disbelief welling up inside of her again, as Barriss's firm words in defense of the Jedi echo through her skull.

It still amazes her to this day that she has somehow managed to accomplish the impossible with Barriss.

She can only hope that Barriss's optimism over the validity of the war will last.

She is yanked back to awareness, just barely registering the sight of Ahsoka's quiet fist pump into the air; the young Togruta grinning widely at Barriss from the very edge of the side curtain of the stage.

To her right, Padmé leans over to speak near Melanie's ear.

"It would appear that the crowd likes her." Padmé murmurs quietly, tone laced with approval.

Melanie does not look towards the Senator. Instead, she turns her gaze to the large crowd gathered near the foot of the stage.

She watches the Coruscanti citizens, vacantly taking in how their alien-like expressions twist with amusement; the crowd bursting into entertained laughter as Barriss makes some gentle quip to Yoova Kastle's next barbed jab at her way of life.

She stares. And stares. And then stares some more.

If she looks long enough, the faces begin to blur together into snarls of rage, instead of loud booms of laughter.

The crowd is entertained. So—at the moment—they love Barriss, and in turn; they love the Jedi.

But one day, the Jedi will lose their shine.

What then?

"Yeah," Melanie mutters under her breath, "but how long will that last?"

On the edges of her vision, she sees the way Padmé's face twists into a frown.

"I am uncertain what you are trying to imply." Padmé says, eyeing her with confusion.

Distantly, Melanie finds herself realizing that it's probably a very good thing that Ahsoka is too far away to hear the conversation that is about to happen.

Slowly, she turns her head to face Padmé's direction.

Melanie licks her dry lips, hesitating for a short moment.

Should she really be considering confiding in Padmé? Even only slightly?

After all, the Senator still remains far too close to Anakin and Palpatine for Melanie's comfort.

Melanie swallows roughly, silently weighing the pros and cons.

Finally, she decides that this small bit of information about Barriss can't hurt to share. Why would Padmé feel the need to bring up a random Padawan in Palpatine's presence anyway?

"Barriss didn't always believe what she's saying out there." Melanie admits. "She... she's mentioned to me and Ahsoka before about how the public are starting to believe that the war is 'unjust.'" she finishes with a scoff.

She watches as Padmé's features twist into a look of bafflement.

"Really?" Padmé's voice clearly shows her level of shock.

Melanie sighs, simply giving the Senator a nod. "She was... confused. And I guess, honestly, she just wanted to believe that there was an easy way to make the fighting stop." Her fingers rub at the surface of her temple, already feeling the effects of a migraine coming on. "She was right about one thing though. These interviews..." she trails off, shaking her head wearily. "... We're basically just trying to out-propaganda the other side."

Gradually, her eyes turn back to face the booming laughter of the crowd.

"The public won't love the Jedi forever." Melanie mutters, dully taking in the way the citizens of Coruscant are continuing to soak up their new level of entertainment for the evening. "In the end... people always need someone to blame."

Silence descends over the two women for a moment as they each look out into the crowd.

Finally—

"Well, perhaps more should be done about that then." Padmé replies, tone growing determined.

Melanie blinks, brows furrowing as she turns back to face the Senator. "What?"

"Perhaps you have a point." Padmé tells her in acknowledgment. "Perhaps we are focusing too much on the war itself. What would happen if say... the interviews became more personalized?" she suggests, turning her body to face more in Melanie's direction, continuing to argue her point. "The Jedi could talk more about their lives. Their likes and dislikes. Even their hobbies, for example." Her eyes widen as she snaps her fingers in the air, as if grasping at an idea before it can fly away. "They could even do it in groups!"

Melanie gapes at the Senator, completely astounded. "That's... that's actually a great idea."

Padmé grins brightly at her, and the look is so reminiscent of that to a friend that Melanie knew in High School; that for a moment, she almost forgets why she has even been wary about the Senator at all.

But then Melanie opens her mouth to continue on, sadly having to burst the brown-haired woman's bubble.

"I'm not sure the Jedi will be willing to do something like that though." she admits, chest heaving out another weary sigh of exhaustion. "They're not really into being front and center in the war as it is. Now, you'll be asking them to actually get personal? I feel like it'll be like pulling teeth."

Padmé doesn't react to that information in the way that Melanie expects.

The Senator simply smiles, a twinkle of mischief forming in her eyes. "Oh, don't you worry about that. I will speak to the Council about it. I can be very... persuasive... when I put my mind to it."

She stares at Padmé, feeling a strange wave of relief ripple over her shoulders.

Melanie had convinced herself that Padmé would be of no help to her cause in trying to save the galaxy, what with how close the woman remains to Anakin and Palpatine.

Quietly, she can admit that—in the deepest recesses of her mind—a part of her might've even been harboring a lingering resentment for the Senator; unwilling to accept that maybe, just maybe, the former Queen of Naboo genuinely did have good intentions, at least in her own way.

Melanie swallows roughly. "... Thank you."

Padmé waves her off, lips stretching into a wide smile with a gleaming row of teeth. "There is no need to thank me! I am always happy to be of help."

Funny. She's happy to help only a certain subsection of people at times, her mind sneers, dark thoughts swirling like storm clouds over her soul.

The muscles in her jaw clench as she shoves the thought down, imagining it sinking beneath a tide of rippling waves; never to be heard from again.

Damn. She's gonna have to work on this whole lingering resentment thing, huh?

She forces a blank smile to her lips, struggling to hide any anger that may reside in her eyes.

"I honestly don't know how you do all of this." Melanie mutters.

Padmé throws her head back, letting loose an amused lilt of laughter. "Oh, it isn't always as simple as it may appear. I can assure you of that. But it can be very rewarding once you accomplish something greater than yourself."

"It can't be easy." Melanie says carefully. "I'm sure not everyone in the Senate cares like you or Senator Organa do."

"That may be true." Padmé admits. "But there are some Senators I know with pure hearts." Her features tighten; the curve of her smile dimming just slightly. "But, yes: for many, politics is simply the name of the game. And—sadly—you have to play along if you want to get anywhere with them."

Melanie frowns, disgust curling in her gut at the scenario Padmé describes. She can't imagine having to deal with such completely corrupt and useless people every other day of her life. "But how can you ever get anything good done that way?"

Padmé's glossed lips widen into a mischievous smile. "Now, my dear, I never said you always have to listen to them." Strands of hair slide down to hang near the side of her jaw as she leans closer to Melanie. "Do you want to know what I do when I want to get something done in the Senate?"

Melanie shuffles, clearing her throat. She still feels slightly awkward interacting so 'chummily' with the wife of the future Darth Vader, especially when taking into account what the woman already knows about Anakin's actions. "What?"

Padmé chuckles softly. "I simply give them a dazzling smile, and then tell them what they want to hear. And then do you know what I do?"

Melanie watches Padmé lean even closer; slightly losing focus for a moment as the glare of the burning heat from the sun reflects off the surface of the Senator's diamond earrings.

She is yanked back to reality as Padmé opens her mouth to speak again.

"I work in the shadows, accomplishing what I want done anyway." Padmé tells her seriously.

Melanie's eyes flicker around every part of Padmé's face, something inside of her taking in the woman's advice.

A part of her still remains wary though.

Of course, Padmé isn't Palpatine. Melanie obviously knows that.

And yet, in this moment, she can almost swear that Palpatine's smile glints back at her from the flecks of hazel in Padmé's eyes.

She flinches sharply back to awareness as another boom of laughter echoes across the audience gathered at the foot of the stage.

Melanie sighs, rubbing at her temple to try and relieve the pounding headache that has started to burst behind her eyes.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that advice someday." she mutters under her breath.

Beside her, Padmé lets out another twinkling laugh. "Well, if you ever decide to join the world of politics, I will be more than happy to offer you words of guidance."

Melanie hums wordlessly, hands lowering from her face as she stares out into the crowd again.

As Padmé and her descend into another long moment of silence, Melanie finds herself quietly deciding that perhaps the Senator isn't really half bad.

Gradually, her mind begins to wander, recalling the tense scenario the Senator had gone through when the Jedi Council requested Padmé's help in spying on Senator Rush Clovis.

Melanie stared dully down at the blue glow of the holotable of the Jedi Temple Situation Room, vaguely registering the sounds of Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda conversing quietly with each other as they all wait for Anakin to arrive from fucking off with Padmé.

Not that anyone else in the room knew that information.

But still. It was always funny to think about, when situations like this came up.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to peer around the room.

She flicked her gaze to each Jedi; scanning over their familiar forms.

She tilted her head, focusing on the dark mass of threaded cords that were locked around Obi-Wan's neck like an ever-ready waiting noose.

The dark mass twisted, burrowing into Obi-Wan's skin harder.

Melanie stared at the noose; imagined herself reaching over to twist the squirming threads of darkness this way and that. Imagined the pads of her fingers rubbing against the slippery surface of the bond, searching for a weak point.

Across the circular holotable, Obi-Wan's body turned more to the side; his mouth moving rapidly as he continued to speak to Master Yoda and Master Windu.

Melanie watched as the motion caused a dark cord to slip loose from the barbed noose hanging around the ginger-haired Jedi's neck.

She stared at the loose strand of darkness. Her hands twitched at her sides, itching to yank it out of the man's skin.

She imagined doing it. Imagined herself reaching over and pulling the thread of darkness out at the roots. She imagined herself staring down at the slithering strand of shrieking shadows, before tossing the broken cord away from her in utter disgust.

Across from her, Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, words coming to a halt. He cleared his throat, raising a hand up to adjust the collar of his robes, before beginning to speak again.

Melanie ignored this; simply turning to gaze toward the familiar form of Mace, distantly watching as the purple-sabered Jedi continued to converse with Obi-Wan and Yoda.

The room descended into silence as the stomp of footsteps entered the room.

"Sorry I'm late. What's going on?" Anakin asked, the deep baritone of his voice traveling throughout the room and resonating down the length of her spine as he came up to stand beside her.

Melanie shivered at the sound of his voice; something in her already on edge with the way she had apparently begun to daydream about ripping cords of darkness from the throats of Jedi walking down the massive lengths of the Temple hallways.

Mace did not even offer Anakin a reprimand for being late for over three hours; simply continuing on with his former explanation of the recon mission to come, as if Anakin had been with them all since the beginning of the meeting. "We believe Senator Clovis is conspiring with the Separatists. We need to find out what he's planning."

On the edges of her vision, she just barely made out the shape of Anakin's lips twisting up into a smirk.

"Do you want me to interrogate him, Master?" Anakin asked, tone dripping with a startling level of dark anticipation.

Melanie clenched her teeth, shrinking slightly from the man's presence.

And then she instantly berated herself for it as the curve of Anakin's disappointed frown burned into the side of her face.

Fuck! Fucking damnit!

She thought she was getting over this crap. But apparently, that had been a naive hope at best.

Annoyance flared up inside of her.

God, was this how it was always going to be? How the hell could she ever become friends with him like this?

It wasn't even that big of a deal. So what if Anakin was a little too excited to beat someone up? A million people around the world probably feel that urge every day at one point in time, if they get eager enough.

It wasn't necessarily a good thing, but it's not like Anakin's knocking on Hell's door yet.

But still, the dark anticipation in Anakin's voice couldn't be denied.

If he was anyone else, Melanie would have done the same thing that Obi-Wan just did across the holotable; simply giving a roll of her eyes.

But Anakin wasn't anyone else. He's the future Darth Vader.

And so, when taking that into account, every moment Anakin showed even a hint of darkness is leveled up to one hundred in Melanie's eyes.

She was also very, very aware that certain type of bias against the dark-robed man was far from fair.

This was exactly why she had grown so frustrated with herself in this moment.

She ducked her head down, letting out a huff of air.

Fuck! How could she ever fucking get past this?

Some part of her felt like the terror would always be there. Even if she managed to bury it deep inside; managed to hide it to the point where Anakin and her could sit across the table from each other and laugh and joke like they had been friends for years; she still felt like the moment Anakin made one wrong move or raised his voice too sharply, that she would suddenly be back to square one.

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Anakin's shoulders slightly shrunk down, as if the man was trying to make himself appear smaller.

A ripple of guilt washed over her.

This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to expect Anakin to walk on eggshells around her.

Fuck! She wished she could just rip out her fear and bury it in the ground. But she couldn't. Fuck, she just couldn't do it. Every night she dreamed of the snarl on his face as he sliced a lightsaber down to cut her body in half.

Every night, she dreamed of him stomping forward to cut down the terrified forms of Jedi younglings.

She gritted her teeth, holding back a shudder.

Her feet remained planted firmly on the ground, some part of her stubbornly refusing to move even one inch farther from the heat radiating off the surface of his body.

She would not flinch. She would not flinch again. She would fucking get over this shit. She would, she would, she would—

She is yanked sharply back to reality as Mace's gruff voice cuts through her rapidly spiraling thoughts.

"—We need someone who is not a Jedi to get close to him for us." Mace explained, dark brown eyes flickering in Anakin's direction. "Someone he won't suspect."

"If not a Jedi, then who?" Anakin questioned them all in confusion.

Mace's eyes never left Anakin's face as he said his next words with a purposeful level of emphasis. "A fellow Senator."

"Selected Senator Amidala, we have." Yoda confirmed, chiming into the conversation then, as he too turned to gaze up at Anakin with a knowing expression.

As one might imagine, Anakin did not take that information well.

Melanie zoned out for the next few minutes as Anakin and the three Council members argued back and forth with each other over Padmé's level of involvement.

Finally, Obi-Wan turned to gaze in Melanie's direction.

"Miss Bains," Obi-Wan gave her a dazzling smile, "As we all explained to you before, your presence has been requested here for a specific reason." He tilted his head, blue irises scanning over every inch of her expression inquisitively. "Master Yoda has, of course, warned us against the use of relying too heavily on your future knowledge. However, we would humbly like to request for you to offer us a... nudge... in knowing how this situation might play out." The quirk of his lips became even more prominent as he eyed his former Padawan's face knowingly. "I believe it may give Anakin some peace of mind to know that his... old friend... will be alright."

Melanie shuffled awkwardly as the entire attention of the room was suddenly thrust upon her.

She cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest.

A beat of tense silence.

Then—

"If Senator Amidala goes on the mission... she'll find the proof you're looking for." Melanie told them all quietly.

All the Jedi exchanged looks of deliberation.

Finally, Yoda turned back to face Anakin. "Trust you, Senator Amidala does, Skywalker. That is why, convince her, you must."

Anakin had finally relented after that, to Melanie's complete and utter relief.

She had worried at the time that Anakin would give himself away if he argued with the Council any further on the matter.

God, she still remains amazed that Anakin and Padmé managed to hide their relationship for as long as they have. Sometimes, they were so obvious that it was almost ridiculous.

They're lucky the Council doesn't ask questions.

She has no doubt that the Council is aware of the two's feelings for each other. It's the "marriage" part that still probably escapes their notice.

For a moment, Melanie imagines it, what the sheer absurdity of the Galactic Senate would descend into, if that information ever became public knowledge.

Has Senator Amidala allowed her feelings for General Skywalker to cloud her judgment over the war? Should all of her former work be called into question? How can we trust the word of someone whose lover remains such a significant force in the war? Of course she'd want the war to end quickly. Who would want to risk their husband dying?

Melanie can see the headlines now.

She shakes the thought off, blinking back to awareness just as the boom of Yoova Kastle's voice echoes through the speakers of the stage.

"And that's about all the time we have, folks!" Yoova rises up from his seat along with Barriss, before reaching over to sweep the young Padawan against his side for one last photo opportunity.

Melanie watches as the flash of a holocam sounds off somewhere above the stage, green eyes taking in the way Barriss blinks blearily to clear the blinding wash of light from burning into her retinas.

Reporter Kastle gives a final megawatt grin to the hovering holocams, before promptly shoving Barriss back towards the exit of the stage.

Melanie scowls, stepping forward with Ahsoka and Padmé to greet Barriss as she stumbles back behind the makeshift curtain.

She waits for a moment, allowing Barriss and Ahsoka a chance to give each other a hug, before finally taking a step forward to place a hand against Barriss's slim shoulders.

"You did good out there." Melanie told her, giving a soft smile of approval.

Barriss ducks her head, features flickering with embarrassment. "I only spoke the truth."

Unwillingly, Melanie feels another resounding crack fracture over the icy wall around her heart.

Damn. So much for polite distance.

Ah, whatever.

Melanie gives Barriss another soft pat, before finally releasing the young girl's shoulder.

Things seem to have gone pretty well today, if Melanie does say so herself.

And so, of course, it is at this very moment, that the asshole known as Yoova Kastle decides to open his stupid fucking mouth again.

"And now, it's that verrrry special time again, folks!" Yoova raises a hand to point at a sleek-looking skycar descending from the air. "Are you all ready for your weekly interview with everybody's favorite Chancellor?"

The crowd below the stage goes wild, their screeches and hoots of excitement threatening to burst Melanie's eardrums.

Slowly, Melanie turns around.

She dimly watches Chancellor Palpatine's elegant skycar lower to the front of the red carpet that spans twenty feet out from the edges of the stage.

A dull ringing fills her ears as the terrifying sight of the disguised Sith Lord steps regally out of the metal confines of the skycar; the faceless members of Palpatine's Red Guard standing stiffly in front of the metal doors of the sci-fi vehicle for when the Chancellor is ready to leave after his interview.

She stares, silently beginning to lose it as the disguised Sith Lord begins to step closer to them all.

Palpatine's wrinkled features stretch into a wide grin as he comes to a stop in front of Padmé and Melanie. "Senator Amidala! How are you, my dear!"

Distantly, on some offhanded level, Melanie just barely manages to register the muffled sound of Padmé's voice. It might as well be reaching her ears through a flood of water.

"I am doing quite well, Chancellor!" Padmé replies, inclining her head deeply in a show of respect to the man in question. "And you?"

Palpatine gives a low chuckle, making Melanie's stomach curdle with pure dread. "As well as can be expected these days." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in a motion of artificial sadness. "After all—these days are dark times indeed. Wouldn't you agree, Senator Amidala?"

Padmé nods. "Indeed. These are dark times for us all."

Melanie's brain screeches with rage, something in her itching to reach over and shake Padmé by the shoulders while yelling at her to wake up, fucking wake the fuck up; can't you fucking see the that the Devil is standing right in front of you—!

She, of course, does not fucking do that; considering that attempting something so stupid would sign her death warrant.

No; instead, she stands as still as a statue, mind far away as she watches Palpatine's dark eyes turn to focus on her own.

Palpatine's wrinkled features twist into the smile of a picture-perfect politician as he scans over every inch of her form. "And who do we have here? I don't believe we have ever had the pleasure of making each other's acquaintance, my dear."

Palpatine reaches out to extend a hand in greeting.

Melanie is clasping his palm in her own before she even realizes what has happened.

She smiles brightly at the Chancellor, and she is calm. She continues to shake his hand firmly, and she is calm. She releases the cold chill of his fingers; arm lowering back to hang uselessly at her side, and she is calm, calm, calm—she has never been calmer in her entire fucking life.

Dissociation is a hell of a drug, she thinks dizzily to herself, continuing to grin brightly at the evil Sith Lord standing mere feet from her.

"It's nice to m-meet you, sir." Melanie says, just slightly stumbling over her words. "My name is Melanie Bains."

Palpatine raises his eyebrows in a clearly artificial show of surprise. "Ah, so you are this Advisor Bains that I have been hearing so much about."

Melanie's grin remains frozen in place as she takes in the man's horrifying words.

Fuck! He fucking knows she's an advisor. Goddamnit, Anakin!

She shrugs, ducking her head slightly as she lets out a chuckle of nervousness. Hopefully, Palpatine will simply mistake her anxiety for a show of embarrassment. "Yep. That's me."

Palpatine clicks his tongue, dark eyes tracking every twitch that ripples over her expression. "I must say, you are not necessarily what I was expecting."

Melanie can't help it. She chokes out a muffled snort. "Yeah. I get that a lot."

She watches deliriously as Palpatine tilts his head, dark eyes peering down at her with chilling curiosity.

"What a curious accent you have." Palpatine notes, tucking his hands regally into the sleeves of his Senatorial robes. "Tell me, just where did exactly you say you were from, my dear?"

Melanie's heart skips a beat in her chest, but her face remains devoid of any fear that lingers beneath her bones. "I didn't." She gives an artificially shy-looking grin. "Never got the chance to say yet."

"Ah, yes! Of course." Palpatine says, raising a hand to tap the side of his temple with a grandfatherly chuckle. "You must forgive me. My old memory is not like it used to be."

Ah, it's almost hilarious to think about the level of bullshit the evil man just spewed out of his mouth at this precise moment.

She ignores the disguised Sith Lord's clear bullshittery, deciding to just give the man what he wants. The cat's clearly out of the bag at this point, anyway.

"I'm from a small planet called Earth." she tells him, smile still frozen in place. "It's on the Outer Rim."

Palpatine hums. "Ah, that explains the more... primitive name. It takes time for societies to advance to the level of our great Coruscant, after all."

Melanie allows the edges of her lips to turn slightly downward at his light jab, some part of her internally realizing that the Sith Lord is testing her reactions to him.

Across from her, the Chancellor's face grows pleased, almost as if he has found a new toy to add to his collection.

"Well then," Palpatine begins, inclining his head slightly towards Melanie in an artificial show of respect, "I do hope you all stay for the show. I have a rather momentous announcement to make."

On the edges of her vision, she just spies the shape of Padmé's features twisting into a look of confusion. "An announcement? Pardon me, Chancellor, but would that not be more appropriate for the Senate chambers?"

The low chuckle Palpatine lets out at that moment chills the very blood in Melanie's veins.

"Patience, my dear Senator." Palpatine murmurs, turning to begin walking towards the stage. "I think you all will find this announcement very... motivational."

A dull ringing fills Melanie's ears; time beginning to blend together as she numbly watches Palpatine walk out onto the stage to warmly greet Yoova Kastle.

She stares, watching Palpatine's mouth move, but she can't seem to register a word he says. He might as well be speaking through a thick layer of water.

Palpatine and Reporter Kastle's interview goes on for some time, before a certain snippet of conversation finally breaches past the waves of Melanie's mind.

"—So, if I'm not mistaken, my sources have informed me that you have arranged this little meeting for a very special occasion." Yoova questions the gray-haired man sitting across from him with a waggle of his eyebrow.

The low chuckle of Palpatine's voice echoes over the large speakers of the stage overhead.

"Why, yes, I do believe I have." Palpatine replies.

Melanie watches with a detached sort of horror as Palpatine rises up from his seat to make his way over to the front of the stage.

"It has recently come to my attention that our great Republic military has a new addition added to its ranks." Palpatine begins.

Melanie freezes.

No. No, he wouldn't.

"As you all know from the Galactic Senate's recent meetings, the Republic has had a string of rather... astounding... levels of success in the war these past few months." Palpatine tells the large crowd gathered like bugs beneath his feet.

Ah, but of course he would.

And so, Melanie can do nothing but wait in frozen terror as the disguised Sith Lord opens his mouth to spout her secrets to the galaxy.

"I would like to personally welcome Melanie Bains in her new role as Advisor to the Jedi Order." Palpatine proclaims cheerily to the millions of citizens across Coruscant watching the holo broadcast of his interview.

As the crowd near the stage begins to descend into a cacophony of confused murmurs, Melanie vacantly registers the sound of Ahsoka's voice.

"What is he doing?!" Ahsoka hisses, blue eyes widening in shock.

To her right, Padmé frowns in confusion, also appearing baffled at the Chancellor's blunt announcement of Melanie's presence to the galaxy.

Melanie ignores all of this, blood beginning to pound loudly in her ears as she watches Palpatine's dark eyes gaze in her direction.

Palpatine's lips curl up into a chilling smile, extending a hand behind him to gesture for Melanie to join him on the stage.

She stares at the wrinkled hand of the Devil beckoning her into the burning light of fame.

And then she takes a step forward.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Miles and miles away, the gathered number of Jedi Council members still physically present on the planet continue to speak around the holotable of the Jedi Temple Situation Room.

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes as he stares down at the holographic mappings of Felucia. "I suggest that we prepare for the possibility of—"

The ginger-haired Jedi's words are swiftly cut off as the beep of an incoming transmission sounds out from the holotable.

Obi-Wan frowns, reaching down to tap at a blinking button on the side of the table to allow the transmission to come through.

The blue glow of Mace Windu's form flickers to life in front of them all.

"Ah, Master Windu." Obi-Wan says, inclining his head in a show of respect. "I do hope things are going well for you and your men on the front lines."

Mace's expression grows grim, and it makes a pit of uneasiness begin to form in Obi-Wan's stomach.

"Is everything quite alright, Mace?" Obi-Wan asks.

"Turn on the HoloNet News channel." Mace orders them all gruffly.

A tense beat of silence falls over the room as the entire Jedi Council exchange looks of apprehension.

Finally, Obi-Wan forces a swallow from his throat, before reaching down to follow Mace's order.

Mace's holographic form shrinks down slightly and is pushed to the side as a new holorecording begins to play out in front of them all.

Obi-Wan stares, watching the scene playing out before him with a growing level of disbelief.

Breaking News! Chancellor Palpatine announces a new face at the heart of the war effort!

The blue glow of Chancellor Palpatine's form turns to the side, beckoning a figure from the back to join him on stage.

Pure dread ripples across Obi-Wan's soul as Melanie steps forward.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Melanie swallows down any bile threatening to rise up in the back of her throat.

Her footsteps echo loudly across the surface of the stage as she slowly makes her way over to join Palpatine's looming figure.

She does not look behind her; purposefully ignoring the frantic whispers of confusion that are coming from the two Jedi and Senator that remain hidden from the audience's view.

None of that matters now. Nothing can stop what has been set in motion. Her fate is sealed.

Her expression is stiff; the whites of her eyes just barely more prominent than usual as she comes to a stop next to the disguised Sith Lord in question.

Palpatine's teeth look like a row of razor blades as he gives her a broad smile.

She numbly allows the man to maneuver her to face the audience, feeling the pressure of his fingers digging into her shoulders from behind.

"I am proud to finally announce Miss Bains's presence to the galaxy." Palpatine croons lowly, the weight of his hands gripping her shoulders just a bit tighter, almost like anchors chaining her to the ground. "It is a true feat of bravery indeed to join the fight for freedom and justice, and Advisor Bains deserves to be commended."

The echo of Palpatine's speech travels throughout the stage, before finally evaporating into nothingness.

And then—

Silence.

Melanie stares numbly out at the crowd, distantly taking in the hundreds of eyes that all wait for her to speak.

The humming whir of a holocam droid fills her ears as the metal device moves to hover mere inches from her face.

She blinks slowly, watching her blank-faced reflection stare back at her through the probe droid's metal eye.

Strands of hair slide down to hang near the side of Padmé's jaw as she leaned closer to Melanie. "Do you want to know what I do when I want to get something done in the Senate?"

Melanie shuffled, clearing her throat. She still felt slightly awkward interacting so 'chummily' with the wife of the future Darth Vader, especially when taking into account what the woman already knew about Anakin's actions. "What?"

Padmé chuckled softly. "I simply give them a dazzling smile, and then tell them what they want to hear."

Melanie tilts her head, forcing a grin to her lips; wide enough to give her crinkles at the corners of her eyes.

"Hi, my name is Melanie Bains. I come from the planet called Earth on the Outer Rim," she begins, staring directly into the eye of the lifeless holocam droid, "And I am proud to represent the Jedi—your great peacekeepers—in their fight against injustice throughout the galaxy." She widens her smile even more, clenching her hands tightly behind her back. "But more importantly, I am proud to represent the Republic, and to fight to protect your great Democracy."

She closes her mouth then; heart thundering in her ears as she waits for the crowd's response.

Silence descends over the entire space around the Galactic Senate building.

And then—oh so slowly—claps begin to resonate throughout the crowd below.

Melanie lets out a quiet breath of air as the crowd starts to cheer loudly.

She continues to give a too-wide grin to the holocam in front of her as the wrinkled hands of Palpatine wrap around her shoulders; pulling her closer to him for a photo opportunity.

"Isn't that wonderful!" Palpatine chortles, lips twisting into a grandfatherly smile.

Melanie continues to grin for the cameras flashing every few seconds, nails digging into her palms as she clenches her hands tightly behind her back.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Across the city of Coruscant, the Jedi Council descends into chaos.

"Does he not realize what he has just done?" Mace hisses out, holographic features flickering with complete frustration.

"How could the Chancellor have even learned of Miss Bains's presence?" Shaak Ti murmurs, black eyes narrowing in confusion.

Near the head of the holotable, Obi-Wan raises a hand placatingly in the air towards Mace's holographic figure. "Now, Mace, perhaps he simply wasn't aware—"

"—Aware or not, the damage is done, Kenobi!" Mace snaps. "The Chancellor has just placed a target on Bains's back."

The entire Jedi Council purse their lips, features growing grim at Mace's ominous proclamation.

They turn, eyes taking in the holorecording playing out in front of them.

Chancellor Palpatine and Melanie continue to stand shoulder to shoulder on stage together.

Melanie's holographic grin remains frozen in place all the while.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hours later, Melanie stares off into space, distantly registering the differing voices of Anakin and the Jedi Council arguing with each other around the holotable of the Jedi Temple Situation Room.

The Council had contacted Anakin over his comlink, ordering the man to join them for an emergency meeting to discuss what just fucking blew up in each of their faces mere hours ago.

To Melanie's complete delirious amusement, Anakin had apparently known fuck all about what Palpatine had been planning to say today.

There is something deeply ironic about that fact, and it makes her chest threaten to erupt with hysterical laughter.

However, she does not do this, since she would look completely fucking crazy to the group mere feet away from her.

Her mind wanders, recalling what had happened after Palpatine's little stunt earlier today.

The whole crowd and reporters around the stage had descended into complete and utter chaos after the Chancellor's blunt announcement.

Palpatine could have been an award-winning actor in another life.

After he and Melanie left the bright lights of the stage, Palpatine gave Padmé a look of artificial confusion at the growing worry rippling across the Senator's face.

"Whatever is the matter, dear Senator?" Palpatine asked.

Padmé tried to hide a grimace. "I do wish you would have reached out to discuss this with me beforehand, Chancellor. I am unsure if the Jedi Order was ready for such a revelation to the public yet."

Melanie dazedly watched as Palpatine's wrinkled features twisted with false worry.

"Oh, dear," Palpatine began with a low murmur, "I hope I have not made things difficult for you all."

She grits her teeth at the memory, all but seething with hatred for the evil man in question.

She thinks, again, of the chaos she, Ahsoka, Barriss and Padmé were forced to trek through after Palpatine had finally left back to his own skycar.

"Advisor Bains will not be taking any further questions at this time!" Padmé yelled out over the cacophony of voices blending around them all, her manicured hand continuing to grip Melanie's pale wrist as she led her, Barriss and Ahsoka through the growing crowd of cameramen.

Melanie shakes the thought off, quietly grumbling to herself in annoyance.

She is swiftly yanked back to the present problem at hand as Obi-Wan's distressed voice travels to her from across the room.

"I told you, Anakin! I specifically told you not to inform him!" Obi-Wan scolds the dark-robed man standing next to him.

"It wasn't me!" Anakin insists, tone growing offended.

"Well, whoever it was that told him; the damage is done." Mace says wearily. He raises a hand, rubbing at his forehead. He looks much older than he should be in this moment. "The broadcast will surely have reached halfway across the galaxy. Sooner or later, the Separatists will know."

Melanie clenches her teeth at those ominous words, rage simmering beneath her veins.

Fuck! Palpatine did this shit on fucking purpose!

God, she fucking despises that man.

"Look, Palpatine was only trying to help!" Anakin tells them all, struggling to plead his friend's case.

Melanie tries. She really does. But she just can't help it. She chokes out a muffled snort; Anakin's ridiculous words continuing to echo through her skull.

Every head in the room snaps over to her.

She doesn't even grace them with a glance; simply waving a hand to vaguely gesture in their direction. "Continue."

The entire Jedi Council and Anakin snap their heads back around to begin arguing with each other once again.

"This is a complete disaster." Mace goes on, dark features pinching with tension. "We had the upper hand with Bains's presence unknown from the Separatists, but now—"

"—It doesn't matter." Melanie says, swiftly cutting over Mace's unsaid words. "It's done."

She rises up from leaning against the surface of the stone wall, before slowly making her way over to stand between the tall figures of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

Melanie lets out a weary sigh. "We all knew I couldn't stay out of the spotlight forever. This was always going to happen, one way or another."

"Perhaps." Obi-Wan concedes, raising a hand to scrub at the surface of his beard. "But now we are not able to control the information, or how it will travel across the galaxy."

Anakin speaks up then, already beginning to turn to make his way towards the exit. "Look, I'm sure if I just go talk to Palpatine, he'll realize what he's done, and work to fix it—"

Melanie freezes, bone-chilling fear washing over her at those words.

She whips around, reaching down to grasp at the thick length of Anakin's forearm before he can walk away. "No!"

Anakin freezes at her touch. He blinks down at her fingers wrapped around the tendons of his arm in bafflement.

Melanie purposefully ignores his surprise, simply taking a step closer towards his looming form. "You don't have to do that."

Anakin frowns. "But if I just talk to him—"

"—Anakin!" she interrupts sharply, squeezing the scorching heat of his skin a little bit tighter.

Anakin's words screech to a halt. He stares down at her in open-mouthed astonishment.

A few heartbeats pass as they stare at each other.

Then—

"Please." she whispers.

Anakin swallows roughly, eyes flickering between the touch of her fingers, and then back up to her pleading eyes.

Melanie's pulse flutters as Anakin's muscles flex under her hand, some part of her growing convinced that the man is about to rip his arm from her grasp to go and do what he wants to do anyway.

Finally, Anakin releases a shaky breath of air.

"Fine." Anakin says, clearing his throat as he peers down at her through the strands of hair hanging over his eyes. "If that's what you really want."

Oh, thank God.

Melanie sighs in relief, releasing the burning heat of his forearm. "Thank you."

Across from her, Anakin blinks rapidly; some kind of daze seeming to clear from his eyes.

The dark-robed man ducks his head, mumbling something under his breath about, "checking on Ahsoka", before turning to stomp out of the room.

Melanie watches him go, furrowing her brows slightly in confusion at the man's quick departure.

Huh, that was weird.

She ignores Anakin's strange behavior, simply turning back around to face the holotable again.

The entire Jedi Council stare at her in complete bewilderment.

Melanie frowns, arms crossing over her chest, growing uncomfortable under the weight of their stares. "What?"

"I must say, Miss Bains," Obi-Wan starts, lips twitching upward in amused bafflement, "I do believe that's the first time I've seen Anakin follow an order without much question in quite a while."

She shuffles awkwardly, giving them all a small shrug of her shoulders. "I just said please."

A beat of silence.

And then, Obi-Wan shakes his head, appearing exasperatingly fond. "Please. Apparently, I could have just been saying please. All these years..."

Mace pointedly clears his throat, gathering the attention of the room. "Kenobi, if I may, there is still the matter of what to do about Advisor Bains."

Obi-Wan blinks. "Oh, yes. Quite right you are, Mace. Well, I would suggest that we—"

Melanie's mind wanders, purposefully allowing herself to zone out of the conversation then.

It's not like she doesn't already know what the Jedi will be forced to do.

They can't afford to risk such a valuable asset. They'll probably make her stay at the Temple for a while until the heat dies down, before sending her out on the front lines with Anakin and Ahsoka again.

She thinks about that fucking jackass, Palpatine; picturing what he might be doing in this very moment.

She has no doubt that the disguised Sith Lord is very pleased with himself.

One day, she will see that man's head cut clean off his body by the heat of a lightsaber.

Melanie decides that she will enjoy this. It will be satisfying to watch. Maybe she can convince one of the Council members to record the experience when they finally deliver the killing blow.

If she ever manages to claw her way back to her own universe, perhaps she will even take the recording with her as a keepsake. It would be fitting that she would be gifted such a thing, after everything she has given up to try and save this universe.

She could even show her mom the recording, allowing the woman to witness Melanie's accomplishments.

Deep down inside, Melanie knows that she will not do this. Even if by some goddamn miracle she manages to make it back to her universe, she is also still very aware that she will never be able to actually tell her mother what happened to her.

Besides, she's also pretty sure that if she sat there giggling to her mother hysterically while watching a live murder, that her mom would look at her like she was insane.

She would be insane if she did that.

Hell—maybe she already is insane.

She feels like she is, half of the time, as she strolls through the halls of the Temple, staring at the wriggling masses of shrieking shadows that burrow into the skin of each Jedi she passes by.

Some part of her is vaguely aware that she is bordering on having hallucinations.

She decides this fact does not matter. What's a few hallucinations in the face of saving the galaxy?

She hums quietly, giving a short nod to the stone floor beneath her feet.

She thinks again of Palpatine's face, daydreaming about the light leaving his eyes.

Something deep inside of her seems to ripple with invisible twinkling laughter.

It almost sounds like it's speaking to her.

It almost sounds like the whisper of a word:

Patience.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

☽

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

A/N: Well... shit. 😬

Things have just gotten a lot more complicated.

As we all knew, Mel wasn't going to be able to avoid Palpatine forever. Still though... Palpatine just threw a hell of a wrench in Mel's plans. Were you surprised by Palpatine's choice to forcibly out Melanie's presence to the galaxy? It's definitely smart. It forces Mel to the forefront, allowing Palpatine to control the narrative in the press.

And we all know how Palpatine loves his control. 😬😬☠️☠️

What did you think about Mel's thoughts on the tangled webs Palpatine has already managed to weave throughout the galaxy? Did you find her thoughts on the matter about trying to untangle it all interesting? It's a big feat for one person, that's for sure. Definitely a heavy burden to carry. 😔

What did you think of the way Mel handled meeting dear old Palpatine? I gotta say, I think she did fairly well. Only stuttered once or twice. Lol. Dissociation is a hell of a thing. 😂

And what did you think of Mel and Padmé's interactions? Mel is still obviously wary of Padmé, but she still followed Padmé's advice at the end, when trying to deceive Palpatine and the press on her internal freak out session.

And then, finally, we also have the end scene with Anakin. 👀❤️‍🔥

What did you think about it? Mel seems to have gotten a bit more comfortable with him, since she was willing to touch him to stop him from talking to Palpatine.

Are you surprised how easily Anakin gave in? The Council definitely was. 😂 It was like they witnessed a miracle or something.

Mel didn't seem to realize how big of a deal that was. But it's interesting to think how much Anakin seems to respect her opinion on things.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter! We're definitely getting into the thick of it now, since Palpatine is aware of Mel. Things will be getting a bit more... complicated... from here on out. 👀☠️

See you all next time, my little reader ducklings! ❤️👋

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

☾

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

"How can you win the game if you never make a move?"

♟︎ ♟︎ ♟︎ ♟︎ ♟︎ ♟︎ ♟︎ ☾⋆☽            ♙ ♙ ♙ ♙ ♙ ♙ ♙ ♙
♜ ♞ ♚ ♛ ♝ ♞ ♜            ☾⋆☽            ♖ ♘ ♗ ♔ ♕ ♗ ♘ ♖
   ________                 ________
                                                           ♟︎ ♝