The Eternal Emperor

The wreckage of the Invisible Hand smoldered behind them as Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Palpatine disembarked. Emergency crews swarmed the crash site, dousing fires and assessing the extensive damage. The three descended the ramp of a Republic gunship that had whisked them from the platform where the ship's remains had come to rest. 

A convoy of speeders waited to escort them to the Senate. Clones snapped to attention as the trio approached, their polished armor gleaming in Coruscant's perpetual daylight. Palpatine, his usual air of calculated composure restored, nodded appreciatively to the troops. 

"Another heroic feat for the history books, Master Kenobi, General Skywalker," he said, his voice carrying a thin veneer of warmth. 

"Just another day in the service of the Republic," Obi-Wan replied, brushing soot from his robes. Despite his light tone, his face betrayed weariness. 

Anakin glanced at Palpatine, a small smile in his face. "Let's just hope this is the last time we have to 'rescue' you, Chancellor." 

Palpatine's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Let us hope, indeed." 

The convoy sped through the bustling streets of Coruscant, weaving between the towering spires and shimmering skylanes. The city planet was alive with its usual hum of activity, though the scars of the ongoing war were evident in the increased military presence and the somber faces of its citizens. 

============================== 

Amidst the flow of dignitaries and Republic personnel bustling about, Anakin's eyes immediately found her—Padmé. She was standing at the edge of the platform, her posture graceful yet tense as if she had been waiting for him. Her hair was elegantly arranged, and her gown shimmered subtly under the fading sunlight. 

The moment their eyes met, she began moving toward him, a mixture of relief and joy lighting up her face. Anakin quickened his pace, and before either of them spoke, they were in each other's arms, kissing each other as if they hadn't met in years. 

"Anakin!" Padmé exclaimed, her voice trembling slightly as she clung to him. 

He held her tightly, his chin brushing against her hair. "Are you all right?" he asked, his tone low and filled with concern. 

"I'm fine," she assured him, her voice soft but steady. "I was so worried about you." 

Pulling back slightly, he looked into her eyes, his smile warm and reassuring. "Obi-Wan and I took care of it," he said with a faint hint of humor, referring to their harrowing adventure aboard General Grievous's flagship. 

As they moved to a quieter corner of the platform, Padmé hesitated, her hands fidgeting before she finally took his hand and pressed it gently against her stomach. 

"Something wonderful has happened," she said, her voice trembling slightly. 

Anakin's brow furrowed in confusion. "What is it?" 

She took a deep breath, her gaze steady despite her nerves. "Anakin... I'm pregnant." 

For a moment, he froze, the words sinking in. Then a smile broke across his face, wide and genuine, as joy overwhelmed him. "That's… that's wonderful!" he said, his voice full of emotion as he pulled her into another embrace. 

Padmé leaned into him but couldn't hide the flicker of anxiety in her expression. "What are we going to do?" she asked, her voice barely audible. 

Anakin pulled back slightly, his hands resting firmly on her arms. "We're not going to worry about anything right now," he said, his tone resolute and comforting. "This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life." 

Padmé's smile finally returned, full of warmth as she leaned her head against his chest. For that brief moment, the galaxy and its endless conflicts faded away, leaving only the two of them and the hope of the life they were about to bring into the world. 

=========================== 

The Jedi Council chamber was bathed in the amber hues of Coruscant's perpetual twilight, the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the bustling cityscape far below. Anakin Skywalker stood before the Council, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable. Around him, the Masters sat in their semi-circle, their faces carefully composed—though hints of unease flickered in some eyes. 

"Anakin Skywalker," Master Windu began, his voice stern and deliberate, "you have been granted a seat on this Council. But we do not grant you the rank of master." 

The room was silent save for the faint hum of traffic outside. Anakin's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. He stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the faces of the Jedi before him. Obi-Wan Kenobi's expression was neutral, though a shadow of concern lingered in his gaze. Yoda's wise eyes watched him with their usual depth, while Windu's stern features betrayed no emotion. 

Finally, Anakin straightened. "I understand," he said, his tone measured. "And I thank you for your consideration." He paused, letting the weight of the moment settle over the room. "However," he continued, "I have made my own decision. I will be leaving the Jedi Order." 

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. Obi-Wan's head snapped toward Anakin, his eyes wide. "What?!" 

Murmurs rippled among the other Masters, their composure momentarily shaken, though none showed it openly. Windu's sharp gaze fixed on Anakin, his expression hardening, while Yoda hummed thoughtfully, leaning on his gimer stick. 

"Stop you, we cannot," Yoda said after a long moment, his tone heavy with resignation. "Your choice, this is. A path of your own, you must walk." 

Windu leaned forward slightly, his tone clipped. "In that case, the matter of your seat on the Council—" 

Obi-Wan interrupted, his voice firm. "Stands. It was made under his capacity as a general and not as a Jedi Knight." 

A murmur of discontent passed through the room, but no one voiced an objection. Anakin nodded once, his expression unwavering. "Then, if you'll excuse me…" he said, his voice steady, and without another word, he turned and strode out of the chamber, his black robes billowing behind him. 

============================== 

The small quarters Anakin had called home for years were dimly lit, the muted light casting long shadows over the spartan furnishings. His few personal belongings were neatly arranged in a small pack by the door. The sound of his lightsaber being placed onto the table echoed in the stillness as he stripped off his Jedi robes for the last time. Beneath them, he wore the all-black combat uniform of a Republic General. 

A soft knock at the door drew his attention. Anakin turned as it slid open to reveal Obi-Wan. The older Jedi stepped inside, his brow furrowed, his expression a mixture of concern and sadness. 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan began, his voice soft, "what are you doing?" 

Anakin turned back to his pack, fastening its clasp. "What does it look like?" he said without malice. "I'm leaving." 

Obi-Wan stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back. "I know what you said in the Council chamber, but I have to ask: is this really about their decision not to make you a Master?" 

Anakin turned to face him, his expression resolute. "It's not about that," he said firmly. " I realized something, Master… Obi-Wan." The correction was subtle but significant. "The only reason I stayed here for so long was because I had nowhere else to go. No one else to turn to. But now… I have something else. I have more." 

Obi-Wan's frown deepened. "Padmé," he said quietly. 

Anakin didn't deny it. "I won't pretend she isn't part of the reason. But it's more than that... far more." 

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment, his gaze searching Anakin's face. "You're making a mistake," he said at last, his voice tinged with sadness. "The Jedi Order may be flawed, but that does not mean you should just walk away from it." 

"Walk away from it... I'm rather walking towards something more important."Anakin replied, his tone softening. "This place... It's not where I belong." 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "If this is truly your decision… then I won't stand in your way." 

Anakin nodded, a small smile of gratitude flickering across his face. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. For everything." 

He shouldered his pack and stepped past Obi-Wan, pausing briefly at the door. "May the Force be with you," he said quietly before disappearing into the hallway. 

The Republic escort shuttle stood waiting on the landing platform, its engines humming softly. A squad of clone troopers saluted sharply as Anakin approached, their polished armor gleaming under the platform's floodlights. He returned the salute, his black uniform lending him an imposing air. 

As he ascended the ramp, Obi-Wan stood at the edge of the platform, watching him go. The wind tugged at his robes as the shuttle's ramp closed, sealing Anakin inside. 

The shuttle lifted off, disappearing into the night sky. 

============================= 

The bridge of the Pride of the Core was an embodiment of precision and control, a bastion of military efficiency wrapped in the steel resolve of its commander. The dim lighting of the command deck gave the space a somber, almost sacred air. Control consoles hummed softly, casting a faint greenish glow over the faces of the officers stationed at their posts. The massive viewport at the front of the bridge framed the endless swirl of hyperspace, the vibrant blues and whites illuminating the otherwise subdued interior. 

Kneeling before Lelouch, Dogma, the clone whose unwavering sense of duty had both condemned and saved him, kept his head bowed. His body now clad in dark heavy armor with numerous carvings of unknown origin. The faint hiss of the ship's environmental systems underscored the silence as Dogma's voice cut through it, steady but heavy with conviction. 

"Understood, my Lord," Dogma said, rising to his feet with precision. The determination in his eyes was evident as he gave a firm salute before turning sharply and striding out, the soft thud of his boots fading into the background. 

Fordo, always at Lelouch's side, stood a pace behind and to his right, his sharp eyes hidden beneath the visor of his helmet. His hand was pressed to the side of his helmet as he received a report. After a moment, his arm dropped, and he inclined his head slightly toward Lelouch. 

"Stage Three has concluded with no unexpected interference," Fordo reported, his voice even, carrying the professionalism of a soldier who had seen too much. "General Anakin has begun organizing his forces on Coruscant. Jedi General Ki-Adi-Mundi has finalized his preparations and is waiting for the go-ahead. General Kenobi has departed with the fleet for Utapau. General Grievous has discreetly departed Utapau for Mustafar, taking the Separatist leaders with him. Everything proceeds as you have dictated." 

Lelouch nodded slightly, his sharp gaze fixed on the swirling lights beyond the viewport. "For now," he murmured, the faintest edge of contemplation in his voice. 

The quiet tension of the moment was interrupted by the voice of the navigation officer from his station on the left side of the bridge. "My Lord, we are approaching Coruscant. Estimated arrival: one hour." 

Lelouch straightened, the movement subtle yet commanding. "Helmsman, prepare to drop us out of hyperspace just outside the planet's local sensor range," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for question. "Ensure we remain close enough to reengage the hyperdrive if needed." 

The helmsman turned in his chair and gave a crisp nod. "Aye, my Lord. Adjusting coordinates now. Calculations locked. Ready to drop on your command." 

Lelouch lifted a gloved hand in a smooth motion. "Execute." 

The vibrant swirl of hyperspace suddenly collapsed into the stark blackness of real space, dotted with the distant glimmers of stars. Coruscant loomed far ahead, its surface glistening with the countless lights of its urban sprawl. The bridge crew sprang into action, their reports flowing in rapid succession. 

"Status report," Lelouch commanded, his voice cutting through the controlled chaos. 

"Engines steady, hyperdrive on standby," reported the engineering officer. 

"Weapons systems operational and standing by," came another voice from the weapons station. 

"Communications clear across all decks," added the comms officer. 

"Life support and auxiliary systems stable," the chief systems officer concluded. 

Lelouch nodded at each report, his gaze unwavering. "Take us off the radar," he ordered, his tone as cold and precise as a scalpel. 

The comms officer quickly relayed the command. "Attention all stations: initiating silent run protocols. Stand by." 

The bridge lights dimmed further as red emergency lighting replaced the normal illumination. The faint hum of the ship's systems softened and eventually came to a stop as the engines powered down, and the weapon turrets retracted into their locked positions. The air itself seemed to grow heavier, the crew working in hushed voices as if the ship's silence demanded their own. 

"We are running silent, my Lord," the comms officer confirmed, his voice low but resolute. 

Lelouch clasped his hands behind his back, his posture radiating an aura of control and authority. "Good. Maintain this status. I want updates on any fleet movements in and around Coruscant. Prepare to monitor all communications channels. I want a status update every 5 minutes regarding any major troop movement." 

"Yes, my Lord," Fordo acknowledged, turning slightly to coordinate with the officers around him. 

As the Pride of the Core drifted in the void like a predator lying in wait, Lelouch's violet eyes glinted in the low light. 

Under the silence of space, the hangar door opened as a lone transport gained some distance before jumping into hyperspace, continuing its route towards Coruscant.