How to Take an Empire

Chapter Seventy-Five: Accordingly

Ahsoka opened her eyes, snapping out of her sleep in the middle of the night cycle as she heard the Force as clear as if someone were whispering directly into her montrals.

Danger. Evacuate the base. Leave.

When the Force had been that loud, it had never steered her wrong. Especially not during her pregnancy. Thus she got out her bed, ignoring her aching back and hips from the weight of her eight-month pregnant belly. She threw on a pair of wide cargo pants, a tank top that pulled away from her stomach, and a short, wide, baggy cargo jacket. Then she tucked the shoestrings of her combat boots into her shoes before slipping her feet in with some difficulty but a lot less than she would have had if she had to find a creative way to tie the strings. Finally, she put her lightsabers and her comm in her pocket and stuck a hand blaster in the back of her pants. In times like these, she really missed her utility belt, but that was like asking someone to look and notice the swell of her stomach.

Once she left her room, time passed in a flurry of waking up the entire base, assigning cruisers, destroyers, and transports to get supplies and people away, and keeping a lookout on their radar for an incoming attack. Though she'd been surprised to get a call from Vader on her personal comm when she'd been clearing out her office, she hadn't been surprised to hear what he had to say.

Bail, who had been missing for just over a year now. They'd gotten something out of him. Not that Ahsoka could blame him. It was a wonder he'd held out as long as he had and an even bigger wonder he was still alive at all. But whatever they'd gotten out of him and managed to piece together was enough that Vader was sure it was a threat. And though Ahsoka didn't usually like to encourage his paranoia, the Force told her very clearly that this wasn't paranoia. They were at the culmination of something.

And after she'd told him that, though in not as many words, after she'd tentatively opened their bond after months of carefully ignoring it, after she'd felt the vibrating warmth of his caring for her, she'd almost spilled everything. About the baby, about her vision, about all her fears and apprehensions. She'd managed to stop herself at the last minute. Vader would worry enough as it was. No doubt, he already had to talk himself out of coming to the Rebellion base himself to ensure her and the twins' safety. There was no point in giving him more to worry about out of her own selfish whims.

She pocketed her comm again and made her way to command center.

"Are our satellites picking anything up yet?" she asked.

"They're picking something up alright," one of her techs answered, pointing to the radar where an entire fleet was headed their way.

"Not just any fleet," Diya said, coming into the room. "That's Thrawn's fleet."

"Admiral Thrawn?" Ahsoka asked.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," Diya corrected. "Palpatine gave him a promotion after that battle a few months ago."

Ahsoka didn't need the reminder. That report had been dismaying. They'd not just lost that battle against him. They'd been decimated. Not even because of any costly mistakes on the part of her own generals and admirals, but just because Thrawn was a genius battle tactician. His genius was only second to Vader and without the tendency for recklessness and utter chaos. This was a battle she should be taking the forefront on. This was a battle where she should be at the front of the line commanding her soldiers to avoid Thrawn's schemes, but...

"Why aren't you at the front lines?" Ahsoka asked vaguely.

"I delegated. I'm here to get you out of here," Diya said. "Not to mention, your kits won't leave without you."

"Obi-wan should have—"

"He left for a mission yesterday."

Of course.