LEILANI SERENNO bridged the past and the present, born into a family of cruelty and then groomed to fulfil a role in the grand scheme of things. She was a puppet manipulated by her brother, ensnared in a larger narrative orchestrated by the Force. Y...
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The preparations were carried out with precision, every step methodical, every detail accounted for. Their mission was not one that required grand military strategies or complex battle formations—it demanded subtlety, precision, and absolute secrecy. The fewer people who knew the true purpose of their journey, the safer they would be.
And yet, despite their careful planning, Serenno had already caught wind of her return.
The whispers spread like wildfire, carried by the voices of civilians who had long awaited the day their Countess would walk among them once more. The city streets of Carannia, the capital, buzzed with quiet speculation—some dared to hope, others remained wary, wondering if her presence would bring salvation or another storm of war to their doorstep. The noble houses, ever watchful, were divided—some viewed her return as a reclamation of her birthright, others saw only the shadow of Dooku cast behind her, unsure if she was a liberator or merely another Serennoan pawn in the endless game of power.
And yet—Dooku himself did nothing.Not a word. Not a warning. It was as though he did not care. As though her return was a triviality, not worth his time or attention.
But Leilani knew better. She knew Dooku did not act without intent. If he was not stopping the rumours, if he was not reacting to her presence, then it meant he was focused elsewhere. Which meant Quinlan's infiltration had worked. The Count's eyes were on his newest prospective apprentice.
For now, Serenno belonged to her.
Anakin's role in their plans had been executed with his usual efficiency—a small, calculated strike against one of the droid outposts stationed on Serenno's outer districts. Not enough to draw the Republic into a full-scale engagement, but just enough to shift the droid military's attention. A disturbance. A distraction. And it had worked.
The Separatists had turned their gaze outward, scrambling to assess the situation, moving their troops away from the inner cities. It gave them an opening. Leilani, along with the few trusted allies they had gathered, slipped through the cracks, moving into position to aid the resistance that had been operating in secret for years. The time had come for action.
But just as they were about to move forward, everything changed.
The comm crackled to life, a transmission cutting through the quiet, urgent, and insistent. Obi-Wan reached for the device, brows furrowing at the source. The Jedi Temple.
The message was brief, but the weight of it was unmistakable. Anakin and Obi-Wan were being recalled immediately. Another battle had begun, another siege demanding their presence—this time, on Anaxes.
Leilani could feel the shift in Obi-Wan's presence the moment the transmission ended. The quiet tension, the unspoken resignation. He had always known this mission was borrowed time, that duty would call him away before they had even begun to truly act. Their eyes met, and for a moment, words were unnecessary.
