Obi-Wan Kenobi looked at least a decade older than he was. The lines around his eyes were deep, and the scars that covered his body painted a picture of a man who had seen too much violence. Still, those who knew him vouched for his kind, if not dutiful nature.

Of course, those who knew him before the purges could see the new weight he carried on his shoulders, the way he struggled to release the ghosts of his past into the force, as any well-trained Jedi knew how. There was nothing anybody could do to council him. He was the highest-ranking Jedi left amongst the survivors.

He knew that Yoda had escaped the purges and had even felt his presence deep in the force far away. Obi-Wan knew there would be a time when it was safe to contact the wisest of them all, when it was time to vanquish the Sith that had caught them all by surprise.

Obi-Wan had spent most of the day meditating after the news came. A young Jedi found in the Imperial Palace was set to be executed in the following weeks. He'd never met the boy but felt an overwhelming sense of failure that another would be killed soon, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He looked up at the stars and wondered how many of his brothers and sisters wandered aimlessly, calling out but never too loudly.

"Master Kenobi?" a young padawan asked. One of the few survivors left after the temple had been raided.

"Yes," Obi-Wan asked, pulling his eyes away from the sky to look down at the child before him. A boy of about eight, human and obviously tired.

"How much longer until we go home?"

Obi-Wan could only watch the young child before him with mourning. "I'm… I'm not sure," he admitted with honestly. The boy could be an old man before they ever returned to their place as protectors of the galaxy.

The boy frowned. "Master Yoda told us not to lose faith."

At this, the Knight raised a tired brow. "Is Yoda talking with you again?"

The boy nodded almost sheepishly. Yoda had been one of the main instructors for all of the younger recruits and had a close bond with them. It was no surprise that he would be trying to reassure them, even now when he was hidden so far away.

"He's right," was all he could reply.

Obi-Wan turned back to the stars and let his eyes wander across the great vastness of it. Now if only he could get the same reassurance.


Padmé took a deep breath and turned to face her visitor. It occurred to her that this was where she communicated with Mothma and rebel contacts. Having Vader here felt like a distinct boundary had been crossed.

"Your proposal?" she asked.

"It's clear that the emperor has some sort of interest in you from the files he's kept classified, even from me."

Padmé nodded and took a seat. Vader began a light pace before turning and scrutinizing her.

"When he called you last week I believe he was making an assessment." His voice was lower and much more serious than she'd ever heard it before.

She kept her face neutral, asking carefully, "What do you want from me?"

His breathing was loud but nothing compared to her heartbeat.

"He will contact you again. He's planning something, and you're involved somehow. Whenever he speaks to you, you will tell me everything that he says."

She watched him very closely for a long moment. She was falling back into the familiar feeling she got around him. Her stomach churned and she was certain she was shaking if she cared to release her hands from the tight fists she had them in. A numbness had settled over her, and even though she knew it was dangerous, it was becoming comforting. There was no way she could ever be fearless from Darth Vader, but there was a part of her that was able to distance the threat he was and watch almost like a third party as he stood there in her apartment.

"I tell you everything whenever the emperor speaks with me, and you'll what? Not kill me right away?"

"Careful, Rebel."

She took a calming breath and looked back at him. "What if he doesn't contact me again?"

"He will."

"But what if-"

"I said he will."

Padmé wasn't sure how he could be so certain but figured she should just agree with him for now.

"I want unmonitored communication with off planet contacts."

"Your alliance contacts," he spit back at her. It there was one emotion that transferred easily in that mask, it was disgust.

"I will continue with my full efforts to get your Death Star past its critical stages, and I'll tell you everything the emperor may speak to me about, but when this is all over I'm sure I'll be dead." She watched for a moment to see if he might disagree, but when there was nothing she exhaled and continued. "All of that will mean nothing, and I can die right now if I'm not given this."

There was a horrible pause where she was certain he would kill her.

It dragged on while he watched her without moving, the black lenses focused entirely on her, and for once she lowered her guard just the tiniest bit. Let him see this is the truth, she thought. I'm not afraid to die.

"I could have you tortured the way I had all the others." The words were frightening. She could see Vistin and countless others before him.

"You could," she answered quietly.

The silence dragged on before he began to head for the door. She watched, certain there were Stormtroopers on the other side.

"Discreetly. You may talk to your friends unmonitored by me."

Her surprise left her paralyzed. She flipped and shouted, "Wait!" before he could leave.

"Yes?" he asked tightly from her closed door.

"How will I contact you if- when the emperor calls me again?"

"Come to my ship."

He was gone then, her door closing behind him. Although she couldn't hear much from the hallways, she could imagine the sound of his breathing echoing and the steady rhythm of his boots as he went further away.

She stood and was surprised to find herself steady, not shaking as she thought she would be after another encounter with Vader. For a horrifying moment, she wondered if she was getting used to these terrible meetings with him.

She dismissed this thought, though. The conclusion was inevitable. When the Death Star weaponry was out of the critical stages, she would die. Before she went to her early grave, she intended to make it count by giving the Alliance everything they needed to undo her work. That much was worth dying for.


There was a schedule given to her a few days after Vader's visit listing the dates when various Moffs would arrive.

She read it a few times before deciding it was information that would be useful to Mothma. When she began the connection to the encoded number, she wondered if Vader was staying true to his agreement and hadn't set up some way of monitoring her. For now, she would operate as though he was true to his word.

After a moment, one of pillars to the rebellion greeted her. Padmé gave the warmest smile she could manage.

"Amidala, I was getting worried when we didn't hear from you these last weeks."

Looking at somebody who represented so much of the rebellion was overwhelming for a second. The feeling of betrayal left an ugly feeling in Padmé's heart, and though she was certain she would never be able to tell Mothma of her deal with Vader or of the contact she'd had with the emperor, in that moment it was very tempting to tell her everything.

She held back her emotions and only nodded. "With Darth Vader's presence on the planet, I've held back from contacting you until I had enough information to justify the risk," she answered robotically. "I'm sending it now."

The latest blueprints and schedules began to transfer to Mothma, who smiled approvingly. Padmé felt another sharp burst of guilt.

"How has it been having Vader there?" Mothma asked while the files finished their transfer.

The former queen answered slowly albeit truthfully. "His presence is… overwhelming. I've tried to stay out of his way."

At this, Mothma's smile dropped. "Do you think he knows?" she asked it very cautiously and watched Padmé closely.

This was it, where she would have to actively lie to one of her oldest colleagues, somebody who she both trusted and respected. The guilt grew, but she reminded herself that everything she was doing was for the greater good of the Republic and the return of democracy.

"No. I've managed to stay undetected."

Mothma accepted it so easily, too. It hurt because it affirmed what Padmé always hoped for, that trust and respect were mutual between them.

"Okay. Good, I'm glad. I understand this is difficult, Amidala, and dangerous, but I promise you it's for a good cause."

"Yes, I know," she answered back with absolute certainty. "It will be worth it."

It had to be.


The uprisings were becoming more frequent and much more violent. Although she disliked violence, Padmé couldn't help but silently support the slaves of Despayre who were trying to escape their servitude. It was all useless, though.

They'd had some impact as manufacturing halted in some areas, but before long they'd be back to full speed, of that she was certain.

An impromptu meeting was held in the boardroom. Padmé did not schedule it, nor did she run it; she sat in the back, listening to the others. Their main concern was how this would look when big Moffs began to check in and see their progress.

While the others spoke loudly over what they thought the course of action should be, Padmé pictured Naboo. The waterfalls, the smell of the wildflowers, the pleasant villages spread out all around the planet. She began to miss it terribly and longed for a quick swim in the pristine waters when she realized the room was silent.

Silent save for his breathing.

A part of her cried out, so tired of his sudden appearances and so tired of having to survive one confrontation after the next. Another small part of her was actually relieved to see him, if only it meant the end of this meeting.

"Lord Vader, we were just discussing the recent uprisings. Would you care to join us- " the young manager quickly shrunk away when Vader's eyes landed on him.

"Everybody out," he commanded. Quickly, the room emptied, but just when she was standing to leave the black lenses of his eyes fell back on her, and she knew she would be staying.

She sunk into her seat and waited until they were alone.

"Why haven't these uprisings been stopped?" He asked the moment the doors closed.

Oh. So, he did want to talk about actual work.

She relaxed in her seat and, feeling rather bold, said, "If I recall, it was you who said we just needed to cut their supplies and starve them out."

Maybe it was a mistake to get cocky now, but she watched him from her place across the room and felt almost certain she wouldn't die during this encounter.

"Then they're getting supplies from other sources. Friends of yours?"

She lost some of her confidence under the accusation. "No," she may have said a little too quickly. It was the truth, anyway. Mothma had pulled out all other Alliance members.

"Then why haven't you done more to stop this?" his deep voice cut at her. He was definitely playing boss now, forgetting their interactions and deals outside of the office. Padmé switched from defensive rebel to competent employee. The truth was, though, that although it fell under her duties she just couldn't bring herself to stop people fighting for freedom. Even when she was in the role of Imperial employee, there was no stopping the real Padmé from shining through, the one that loved democracy and the freedom all living creatures deserved.

Her anger grew as she glared at the man before her. "You've stopped them before, haven't you?"

"When it became necessary."

"Then what's stopping you now?"

"I expected you to have handled this by now."

Her patience thinning and her mood souring, "I can't exactly force them to work. They're conscious beings, not droids."

"What would you know of servitude?" Vader snapped back at her. Except that it was genuine anger she heard in his artificial voice. She knew then that she needed to stop herself and focus on self-preservation, but something reckless in her wanted to keep going, aware that the consequences could be dire if she went too far.

"I know that it's wrong, and the fact that we're using it disgusts me."

There was a sharp snort from beneath the mask, once again making her question who was under there.

"Yes, I'm sure this sudden change from your precious planet has been quite the shock. Slavery has always existed, even during the Republic."

"And it was wrong then too."

"You didn't care then because you didn't have to see it. You wouldn't care now if you didn't see it every day."

She stood up then, face burning with anger, indignation, and maybe even a little shame. "I do care, and we both know I'm not just sitting around letting this happen."

"Careful, your highness."

"I hate this! I hate hurting those people and forcing them to do this. You want to stop them? Fine. But don't expect me to-" She stopped and watched him. He held so still, eyes boring down on her. For a moment, she wasn't even sure he was breathing and the following silence left her ears ringing.

When he said nothing and she finally calmed herself down, she took her seat again. With one more calming breath, she looked back up at him. "Is that all you wanted to talk about, Lord Vader?"

He glared down at her. "Stop their uprising and continue ahead of schedule."


She was still so angry when she returned to her office that she began to seriously consider forgetting everything and taking the rest of the day off.

He knew she was part of the Rebel Alliance. How could he possibly think she was okay with slavery? Or that stopping an uprising was just something she could throw on her schedule, no big deal. Slaughter may have come so naturally to him, but every life lost because of her decisions as queen stayed with her and would likely follow her for the rest of her life.

She wanted to go home, her real home, not her bare apartment just down the road. Naboo. There was no way she could, but for a moment the idea was calming enough.

She sat and was actually able to get some work done, send out a few inquiry messages about stopping the uprisings, make sure that important pieces of the Death Star had been delivered to the right hangers. Even immersed in her work, though, the overwhelming longing for home remained.

It was all for the Rebellion, and her happiness was nothing compared to the sacrifice of her life, which she already accepted as good as gone.


Vader was certain he hated her. Not in a long time had somebody gotten so under his skin that he couldn't kill them and be done with it. Palpatine was the only other who came to mind. Of course, they came from the same planet. The thought of using the Death Star on Naboo suddenly became very appealing, though he doubted it would hurt the emperor in the slightest.

It would devastate the former queen, though, which might just be worth the wrath of the Emperor. There was no point in meditating. All his thoughts revolved around Padmé and how much of a useful nuisance she'd become in figuring out whatever Palpatine had hidden up his sleeves.

If there were any indication that she was integral to his master's plans, it became all the more tempting to get rid of her within the hour, a speedy construction of the Death Star be damned. Vader began to pace through his room, for once out of the suit and breathing in the heavily ventilated and artificial air. It still irritated his lungs, but there were no serious coughing fits this time.

It didn't matter. All too soon, he was being called by the emperor himself. Quickly putting his suit back on, he answered in his usual bow with masked thoughts of finally killing the old man and fulfilling his destiny.

"Rise, my friend."

"Yes, my master?"

The same yellow eyes as his own, the same ones he'd known nearly two decades now looked down on him from the video image.

"Excellent news," the grainy image before Vader spoke, "not much longer and we'll have the Imperial Senate no longer able to draft bills but rather vote on ones we send them."

Though not of particular interest to Vader, he only nodded and waited for the real reason Palpatine would call.

"I know you must have heard of the Jedi we discovered here in the palace. Not much of a concern, he was so weak in the force, but I'm afraid I need you to stay on Despayre longer than originally intended. You will have to miss the execution."

There was no point in telling his master he'd already landed his ship and settled in for a long stay or that controlled executions did not interest him rather than the thrill of the hunt. That would cause too much trouble, so instead he answered with the usual, "As you wish, Master."

"Good. Good."

He waited for more, but the old man only continued to watch him intently. Vader rarely felt social discomfort, and this was probably the closest he came to that. "Will you require anything else, Master?"

One old eyebrow cocked, he gave a grin that showed all his greyed and rotted teeth. "I hear construction is well above schedule."

Vader nodded, "Yes, it is."

He waited for more, but there was a quick and thoughtless farewell before the image before him disappeared and he was left blessedly alone. He didn't take his suit off again, though. Right about now the emperor would be making another call to Padmé, and if she stuck to their deal than he expected a visit from her soon.


Thank you to slumberdollx for the editing, as usual. Thanks for reading!