On the Wings of Valkyrie

Epilogue

The Emperor was dead, killed by Vader. Vader was dead, killed by the Emperor. Eclipse was dead, killed by the Emperor's Hands. The Hands were dead, killed by a massive weapon; Eclipse's last revenge, or so the stories said.

The Empire fallen, victory to the Rebels. Long live the Alliance.

Evidence of such information was everywhere.

The statues of himself Palpatine had erected lay as rubble. Imperial propaganda covered by paint of the Rebellion Starbird. The heads of the common folk no longer walked around bowed down by the weight of the ever watching stormtroopers. The only Imperial building that had escaped total annihilation and extreme vandalism was the Imperial Palace which was slowly being converted back into a Jedi Temple under Luke's supervision.

Even Vader's Palace had not escaped the vandals, though Luna supposed she shouldn't have expected anything less. Vader may have been assisted by Luke in the duel against Palpatine and even provided an entire legion of troops for the attack on Coruscant, but to the galaxy he was still little more than a villain.

Perhaps that worked in Luna's favor. The outside of Vader's—her's now, he had left everything to her though considering Eclipse's death and her own issues, Padmé, the twins, and Ahsoka had been in charge of figuring out what to do with it all—Palace appeared akin to highway underpasses and old train tunnels, littered with spray paint and far from pleasant messages, but the inside was untouched. Looters had not dared to bypass the walls, though much of it had been altered, rooms changed and many personal belongings missing. Palpatine probably had his people go through it after Vader's betrayal.

It was empty. At least in all the ways that mattered.

Luna didn't even know why she'd come here first after sneaking away from Padmé's watchful gaze. There was nothing there for her but dark, abandoned halls....

And secrets she had a duty to keep. She could take care of them at least.

Luna didn't know quite when the idea had come to her, but at some point she had realized that there were some things she knew Vader—Anakin—wouldn't want getting out into the galaxy.

And as his apprentice, it was her duty to ensure that such things remained hidden. Once that was ensured, she would move onto more difficult tasks—beginning with finding ways to prevent the First Order's rise and likely ending when she got herself killed. Maybe it wasn't what she should be doing, but it would keep her distracted.

Luna was fully healed now, physically that was. Everyone was becoming busy in their individual efforts to fully restore the Republic and their attention was for the most part off of her. That meant that the girl now had the freedom to disappear from their lives and their story. Perhaps action, actually doing something away from friendly gazes, would make things better. Somehow.

She knew it wouldn't work like that, but she could certainly hope. Try to hope.

Luna was actually rather sure she was no longer capable of hope. Or feelings. She felt like a shell with purpose, however loosely defined, being her only motivation to do anything.

"Whatcha up to, Arty?" a voice asked as the lights flickered. The entire Palace had felt colder than normal, good to see it hadn't been the girl's imagination. Luna looked back to find Apollo was standing in the doorway.

"Not much," she responded, returning her attention to her work.

"It looks like you're setting up a bomb."

"I am."

"Why?"

"They're going to demolish it anyways, might as well help things along."