I'm still alive, I promise.

By the way, thanks to all the support while I wasn't updating, especially to an anonymous reviewer who simply left a review to make sure I was ok. You guys are really sweet. :) I'm sorry about the lack of any contact or updates whatsoever, I've been very detached from fanfiction over the past few months. Busy life and all. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the update.


Despite having told Padmé that rest was the best thing for her, Obi-Wan found himself barely able to sleep. He tossed and turned, thankfully ignored by Siri, until he heard movement out in the hallway, startling him to alertness. It was still dark outside, perhaps an hour before the family had agreed to leave. It could have been anyone preparing for the journey, but the Force told him it was Anakin. Sighing, he settled back into bed; no doubt the young man was going for his morning walk. There was no talking him out of it, which was slightly frustrating given the man's condition, and Obi-Wan was fairly certain Anakin wouldn't use the crutches now that they were somewhere public.

The Force stirred again, but this time it wasn't Anakin. Opening his eyes once more, Obi-Wan struggled for a few seconds to focus before sensing who was also awake.

Padmé.

Well, I suppose there's no point in trying to sleep now, Obi-Wan thought dully. She would want to know where Anakin was, and she would have a host of other concerns. It was time to get up.

Slipping out of bed, Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes tiredly and entered the hallway. Padmé stood like a shadow outside her bedroom, looking half awake and worried.

"Was that Vader leaving?" she whispered.

"It's fine," Obi-Wan assured her softly. "He's just going for a walk."

Padmé let out a quiet laugh. "Figures. I knew he walked as a morning ritual but I thought he might curb it when he's injured. I shouldn't be surprised."

The siblings stood silently for a moment before Obi-Wan's eyes finally adjusted to the dark. They settled on Padmé's neck abruptly when something looked off, and he suddenly recognized a redness to her skin that he'd not noticed before due to the heavy winter clothing she'd worn yesterday. "Padmé… are those burns around your neck?"

Padmé shifted, sighing. "A gift from Lady Tarkin."

Obi-Wan felt his chest tighten, protective anger swelling in him, and he exhaled heavily to calm down; there was no point in getting angry when it wouldn't accomplish anything. He still couldn't quite shake all of it, though, and while he was remiss to beat the woman responsible, imagining her being arrested was a nice alternative. And heaven knew he would never let that woman near his sister again. "She tortured you while she held you prisoner?"

"She made me her slave," Padmé admitted somewhat reluctantly.

Obi-Wan blanched. "What?"

"It didn't last long," she remarked, waving a dismissive hand.

"Padmé, that doesn't detract from what happened," Obi-Wan shook his head, walking towards his sister. "Are you alright?"

Padmé huffed as if it didn't matter. "Of course I am."

Obi-Wan eyed her. Padmé shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. They remained this way, both stubborn and especially fortified for long, pregnant pauses after dealing with a master of silent communication. Eventually, however, Obi-Wan won out.

Padmé sighed heavily, sagging against the wall. "It wasn't pleasant, okay? But… but I got through it."

Obi-Wan nodded, far more content now that she'd admitted it. At that point, shuffling was heard in their parents' room, and the two returned to their own rooms to prepare for the day. Obi-Wan reluctantly woke Siri, who thankfully wasn't as grumpy as he expected her to be, and within half an hour everyone was ready to go (except Ryoo, who was snoring on her father's shoulder as he carried her around the house).

The family congregated in the living room, each person carrying a duffel bag. Obi-Wan immediately sensed panic as his relatives noticed someone was missing.

"Where's Vader?" his father asked.

Obi-Wan was going to explain that Anakin walked every morning to get his bearings when the man himself entered the living room, his cool neutral gaze sweeping over the group. A moment later, Al entered.

"Are we ready? I've got a route planned out," he said.

Everyone nodded, some nervous, some ready to go, some reluctant about the entire matter. When they walked outside everyone shuddered from the cold that bit into their exposed faces, and Ryoo whined a little, burying her face further into Darred's shoulder. Most of the family glanced back at the house sadly, unable to move for a few seconds, before Al whispered that they had to leave.

They moved in small groups, with Al leading alongside Ruwee and Jobal, Siri and Anakin in the center, and Sola, Darred, Ryoo, Padmé, and Obi-Wan bringing in the rear. The path wound through most of the city's alleys, avoiding central areas and patrol spots. Eventually they reached the hangar, and Obi-Wan had to smile when he saw The Invariant Beauty; it felt like it had been a lifetime since he'd laid eyes on that ship.

Everyone boarded quickly and Al delegated living spaces. Ruwee and Jobal would have Al's room while Sola, Darred, and Ryoo would take the bunk beds in the hidden guest quarters. Obi-Wan, Siri, and Anakin were allotted the hidden cargo bay beside the guest quarters upstairs, and Padmé had the couch in the small den.

"And you?" Siri asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Al shrugged. "I'll just sleep in the cockpit."

The family dispersed, exhaustedly dragging their feet to their assigned quarters, but Obi-Wan, Siri, Anakin, and Padmé remained. Anakin strolled into the cockpit, much to Al's chagrin, and Siri followed to ensure the two didn't start a fight over any sort of technical matter, leaving Obi-Wan and Padmé to sit on the sofa.

Padmé shifted uncomfortably as she glanced at the cockpit entrance. Last night's conversation was still burning fresh in her mind, and she felt her stomach churn. Obi-Wan had been right, of course – they needed time. But she was both impatient and hesitant, eager to keep her distance but also wanting to resolve the issue now. She hated this feeling.

Not quite able to shake her thoughts about Vader, she broached the subject in a different manner. "I still can't quite believe how close you and Siri have gotten to him."

Obi-Wan glanced at her with a small smile. "We've had some time to learn about him… just as you did."

"Funny how things change when you know someone better," Padmé muttered, somewhat to herself.

"Yes. Funny." Obi-Wan sighed, his gaze unfocused all of a sudden as he thought about something. "Padmé… there's something you should know about Anakin, and I'm fairly certain you won't find out from him."

Padmé looked at him curiously, starting to feel dread seep into her. What was she about to find out? Was it something terrible about Vader, something that would make their relationship even more complicated? "What is it?"

Obi-Wan's face darkened in what almost looked like revulsion, and he swallowed hard. Padmé felt even more dread – what did Vader do to make her brother react in such a way?

Eventually, he said, "Anakin's devotion to the emperor doesn't just stem from brainwashing… he's Palpatine's son."

Padmé felt her mouth go slack as her mind went blank for a moment. An instant later, a million thoughts flooded her, and the same revulsion she'd seen pass over her brother's face settled heavily in her stomach. He was… he was what?

Palpatine had reproduced?!

"If family wasn't your foundation, then what was?"

"The emperor."

Padmé recalled their conversation at Thecine, where they had actually started discussing his relatives, where he had all but stated his father had told him his purpose was to serve the emperor.

He… he really… he was…

Good gods. Good gods.

"H-how…?" she stammered.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain neither of us wants to know the particulars."

Padmé shuddered. This… she shook her head continuously, not quite able to fathom what she'd just heard because it made so much sense it hurt. Stars above, it was a miracle Vader wasn't worse than he already was. This made too much sense. This… Padmé didn't even know what to do with this.

As Padmé continued to gape at nothing and contemplate this world changing discovery, Vader himself exited the cockpit, barely giving her or Obi-Wan a glance, and entered the hidden hatch, climbing the ladder, though he headed downward instead of up.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan called softly. "The cargo bay is upstairs. You know that."

"I'm working on the engines."

"While we're flying?"

"While we're in hyperspace."

Obi-Wan eyed the man suspiciously, and Padmé marveled at how the two could have a seemingly normal conversation considering what Obi-Wan knew about him. And then, for whatever reason, she suddenly felt jealous. Why was it that Obi-Wan and Siri could be so at ease around Vader, even call him by his actual name, yet Padmé, who had been the original one to convince Vader he was a person, was held at arm's length?

"Is Al aware of this?" Obi-Wan continued, unaware of Padmé's change in emotion.

Vader sighed in what was almost exasperation and eyed her brother. He tipped his head a little stiffly, seemingly annoyed by the barrage of questions, and then slid down the ladder.

Obi-Wan sighed and faced Padmé again only to pause, his brow furrowing as he finally seemed to notice something had changed in her demeanor. "Padmé?"

She couldn't stop herself. "What did you do—how did you manage to earn his trust after everything I did for him? He shot me for heaven's sake, and yet I'm the bad guy here!"

Obi-Wan stared at her, shocked and unsure what to say. "I—Padmé, I told you this would take time."

"Time? I wanted to help him first, I reached out to him first!" Padmé was on her feet now, emotions and words spilling out of her faster than she could reign in, and an exhausted, hurt part of her didn't bother controlling herself. "Vader is the one who changed the situation!"

"No, Padmé. You did." Obi-Wan cut in, also standing, regaining his composure.

Padmé froze, but her blood was rushing with anger and confusion. "How did I cause all of this?"

"You didn't cause all of it, Padmé. That's not what I said," Obi-Wan shook his head and folded his arms, looking like he did whenever he lectured her when they were younger. "I'm saying you changed the situation, and then we all made many mistakes that contributed to create this mess we're in."

"When did I change the situation?"

"When you proposed marriage to Éothen."

Padmé paused in mid retort. Éothen. This had all started with Éothen. Palpatine had been introduced to Éothen at the opera. Padmé apparently hadn't been a threat until she'd made a connection to Salkende through the warlord's son. She hadn't caused a rift in her relationship with Vader until she introduced another man into the picture, one she was willing to marry.

But… but… it was for the Alliance!

"I did that to help the Alliance," she argued.

"No matter the reason, that is what caused a major change," Obi-Wan retorted. "Besides, even that isn't entirely the reason Anakin acts differently around you."

"What do you mean?"

Obi-Wan shifted, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts. "Padmé… your love for Anakin is genuine. I know that. But you… when you love people, you make excuses for them. Constantly. You'd write off Anakin's behavior as brainwashing, as something that he couldn't help. In part you were correct, but not entirely – Anakin has always had a choice. He's never had all the options, but he has had a choice. He chose to obey Palpatine and do all the atrocious things he's done, and your way of explaining it was that he simply couldn't help it."

"He couldn't!" Padmé argued. "How can you possibly expect a man to know any different when his entire life has revolved around obeying his father? The fact that Palpatine is actually his father just makes that even more obvious to me!"

"Padmé, you're missing the point." Obi-Wan stressed, taking a step towards her. "Siri and I know that Anakin has had a hard life, but instead of writing off everything he's done, we've forgiven him. We held him accountable and we still forgave him for all of it, even for killing you when we thought you were gone. You've only excused what he's done, made it seem like there's nothing to forgive in the first place. Do you forgive him for shooting you? Or are you just willing to say he couldn't help it and simply want to pick up where you left things?"

Padmé stared at him, wanting to say so much but suddenly lost for words. Then anger reared its ugly head inside her, and she yelled, "That's not true! You don't think what happened affected me? You don't understand anything. And you really don't have a right to be high and mighty to me when you didn't even give Vader a chance in the first place! It took me dying to get you motivated, and then when I came back you almost acted like you wanted nothing to do with me!"

A hurt look crossed Obi-Wan's face, his mouth slightly open as if he wanted to reply but couldn't. Padmé felt a twinge of remorse for her words but was too angry to act on it. She would have stormed out of the room, but there really was nowhere for her to go to be alone. Padmé suddenly felt claustrophobic, but Obi-Wan was the one who gave her space, sighing sadly and climbing the ladder to go to the cargo bay. Seeing his face made her anger diminish, and she felt frustrated with herself and her brother. The guilt started to fester; she knew she'd hurt him. But he'd hurt her too.

His words stung, not because they were cruel, but because they made too much sense. But it wasn't like she hadn't thought through everything that had happened, it wasn't like she'd mindlessly written off Vader's actions.

Right?

Padmé growled, shaking her head. This was ridiculous. She wasn't a teenage girl who only acted on hormones. She wasn't some naïve girl who would just assume everything would be fine if she could fix him.

Right?

She'd thought this through. She had. She'd gone over this hundreds of times in her head when she and Vader had been back on Naboo. But what was she supposed to do? Vader couldn't help what had happened to him. He couldn't. He didn't know any better. He…

He had a choice, and he had chosen to shoot her.

Sighing heavily, Padmé lowered herself onto the couch, her abdomen aching with a phantom pain. Was there ever going to be a point where they'd gotten through this? She felt like she was spinning in circles, desperately wanting to get off this ride but knowing she had to stick through it to the end. It left her dizzy and isolated, but she knew her brother and sister-in-law would be there for her. She knew that. She just wished Obi-Wan wasn't so blasted honest sometimes. Honestly, being blunt was Siri's job. Obi-Wan was supposed to awkwardly stumble around the issue and offer solace in his own private way. Jedi training had made him bolder. Either that or almost losing her. They'd changed so much.

Padmé stood and paced the area a bit before collapsing on the couch again in exhaustion and submission. She couldn't deal with this now. She wasn't sure she ever could, but she knew she would have to eventually. Just… not now.


It was raining on Imperial Center, which was both unusual and unwelcome as it was the dry season. Tarkin stood glumly in the hangar watching a shuttle land, getting sprayed with some mist from the wind the shuttle generated. He barely flinched. He'd felt numb for the past day, going through the usual routines with little to no thought dedicated to it.

He had already announced Vader's death to the senate. It had been surreal saying the words aloud. He'd said them calmly as if they were from a dream rather than an actual Intelligence report. The senate was in an uproar – not everyone was happy with the turn of events, and some suspected Tarkin himself was responsible for everything. The man felt a hollow laugh rumble in his chest, too weak to even emit from his mouth; as if he could have arranged everything that had happened. As if he wanted everything that had happened.

Tarkin clasped his hands behind his back as the shuttle's landing ramp lowered. It was from Eriadu. He had immediately summoned his wife after they'd retaken the system – he wanted a status report, and he'd wanted it in person. It didn't seem to matter nearly as much now as it did when he'd first called for her, but, like everything else, he would simply go through the—

What in the blazes?

Tarkin's wife descended the ramp, her right wrist bandaged heavily and her right hand completely missing. She looked pale and far more somber than he'd ever seen her.

"What happened?" he immediately asked, approaching her swiftly.

His wife gazed at him, looking defeated and frightened. Tarkin was slightly perturbed, having never seen that look on her face, and he repeated his question. When he still got no reply, he started to grow angry, and he gestured for her to follow him to his quarters. They arrived quickly, and Tarkin found himself getting all the more irritated that he couldn't come up with a valid reason for her state – he had been too out of it lately. He had to focus.

His wife walked to the couch and sat silently. Tarkin crossed his arms. "Did Rhaegon do this?"

She shook her head.

Tarkin's patience started to wear thin. "Tell me what happened!"

His wife jumped, startled out of her brooding. "Amidala."

Tarkin blanched, and he felt his blood run cold. "Amidala? She… she escaped?"

His wife hunched over, looking away.

Fantastic. Fantastic. This was all he needed on top of everything else. He supposed it didn't matter anyway; with Vader gone Amidala was of no use to him. But it would have been cleaner if he'd just killed her as a prisoner at his estate. Now he would have to track her down… now she might pose an actual threat. People couldn't know he'd held Amidala prisoner as a means to coerce Darth Vader.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. His wife was utterly useless; all the years of their marriage she had been lavishing at their estate enjoying her authority while he had been working, and the one time he gave her an assignment she botched it. He hissed, "How could you have let this happen?"

His wife looked at him suddenly, scared and upset. "I… Rhaegon attacked!"

"Rhaegon broke her out?" Tarkin asked, feeling the bottom drop out of his stomach. How many Imperials knew of his plans with Amidala?

Lady Tarkin shook her head, bringing him some relief. "She escaped in the attack. Some kind of group of people was helping her."

"What kind of group?" Tarkin questioned, irked at her ignorance.

"I don't know," his wife shook her head, her voice trembling.

Tarkin cursed under his breath, looking away and ignoring the silent sobs that started to emit from her. Then he whirled on her. "I told you not to underestimate her!"

His wife had no response, crying into her left hand. This was pointless; she was too upset and he was getting angrier by the second. Tarkin sighed heavily and summoned a medical droid to look at her injury – he supposed she hadn't had it properly treated apart from stabilization since he had summoned her immediately. He wondered if she'd even heard the news about Vader.

Well she would find out later. He couldn't stomach seeing the greed in her eyes when she heard that no one was in his way for the throne now. It might compel him to smack that look off her face.

He shook his head, ignoring his wife as the medical team arrived and escorted her out. He would have to go to Keeper for this, and it made him sick. The last thing he needed was to give that woman another advantage, but if Amidala opened her mouth it would compromise his position entirely. But who had helped her escape? Tarkin imagined Amidala would seize the opportunity during Rhaegon's attack, but not that she would get outside assistance. Was it Rhaegon himself? He was no longer a threat. Was it the Rebels? There had been no report of Rebel activity anywhere near Eriadu. For heaven's sake, they'd been on the run from the Empire during that point. Unless they managed to spare a strike team… but how would they have known? Did Vader ever have a chance to find out before he died?

Tarkin leaned heavily against the wall, overwhelmed by an emptiness in his stomach. He shook his head. Focus.

He would have to accelerate his coronation plans (to be more exact, he would have to start planning for his coronation – he'd simply announced a mourning period for Vader with no intent to vie for the throne anytime soon) to secure his position. He would have to rely on Keeper to eliminate Amidala. This wasn't good. This was putting him in a dangerous position. But to do nothing would be suicide.

He needed more answers before he could go to Keeper, though. He needed more. Taking a deep breath, Tarkin went to the medical wing of the palace to seek out his wife, who would ideally be calmer by now. When he found her she was staring at her right hand in horror as a prosthetic was attached to her wrist. Now that the wound was exposed, Tarkin felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

He knew that wound.

"You were attacked by someone with a lightsaber?" he asked, unable to hide the surprise and tremor from his tone.

"Amidala did this," his wife hissed, looking at the emperor-to-be with a glare that was tempered by the tears glistening in her eyes.

Tarkin blanched. Amidala? What was she doing with a lightsaber?

Wait.

"How did she get a lightsaber? What color was it?"

"I don't know how she got it," his wife shook her head. "I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't, you fool," Tarkin snapped, once again growing tired of her blubbering. They were in this situation to begin with because of her. "Just tell me what the color of the blade was."

"R-red."

Red. Red. No Jedi would wield a red blade. She didn't get that weapon from a Jedi.

Vader.

How had he known? Had he been the one to break her out? Tarkin felt ice freeze him to his core, and for a fleeting second, he was suddenly glad the boy was gone. He couldn't imagine what Vader would have done in retaliation.

And then he wanted to hit himself for even thinking that. And then he shook his head of the matter entirely. Whatever Vader would have done was now irrelevant. The boy was gone.

He supposed he now knew why Vader had been attacking the Imperials on Ferrasco. Tarkin tasted bitterness in his mouth, feeling self-loathing rise in his chest. If he hadn't used this ploy, Vader would have never…

Tarkin sighed. It didn't matter. The situation was entirely too complicated to blame on any one person. Well, at least except for Palpatine. That man had excelled at creating complicated situations. Tarkin could imagine the deceased emperor was cackling with delight at what had transpired.

What a bastard.

Tarkin left the medical wing without another word. He had plans to make.


Obi-Wan was right.

Padmé sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. Obi-Wan was right; she hadn't forgiven Vader… maybe she even had made excuses for him. Maybe. She still wasn't convinced of that. But she did know she hadn't forgiven him. It wasn't because she hadn't thought of it, though – it was because she hadn't wanted to think of it. She hadn't known if she was ready to forgive him… if she ever would be.

But she had to decide that now. It had been long enough. Things would only get more complicated from here, and she had to sort at least one matter before they arrived at Ghanu'jivo.

So… did she forgive him? He had apologized. She still loved him. So yes? Was it really that simple? It certainly didn't feel it – thinking that she forgave him made her gut churn uncomfortably. Maybe she wouldn't be able to sort this out just yet, which was incredibly frustrating. She felt like her entire life was out of control, out of her hands, split in so many different directions due to her emotions and loyalties.

I guess things really haven't changed since Varykino, she thought sadly. After all, she'd been so divided in her loyalties back then too.

Or had she? She'd chosen the Alliance, after all. And it had almost gotten her killed, not to mention trapped in an engagement she'd never wanted to be in.

Was it worth it?

Padmé shot to her feet, immediately shaking her head. That question was too ridiculous to even contemplate. She'd dedicated her life to helping others. She wasn't going to stop now just because it affected her life in unimaginably miserable ways. She wouldn't.

She needed to establish some kind of status quo, at least. Something to maintain her sanity. Some sort of way to neutralize the interactions between her and Vader. She didn't know if she could handle the tension between the two of them for much longer.

Sighing again, Padmé steeled herself and climbed the ladder down to the engineering area.

Darth Vader was tinkering with a machine part, completely engrossed in his task. His face was relaxed, and he looked like the man she'd known on Naboo instead of the broken mess on Coruscant or the emotional disaster she'd been dealing with for the past twenty-four hours. It made her heart almost stop.

"Vader," she whispered.

Vader jumped minutely, apparently not having sensed her approach, which she found odd. She wondered if his concussion had anything to do with it. The man quickly recovered, however, and slowly turned to face her, acknowledging her silently.

"I'm sorry," she said, unsure how to start but slightly annoyed that an apology was the first thing she could think of – she'd already apologized last night. Honestly, she was starting to get a little sick of apologizing.

Vader's eyebrows drew closer slightly, indicating he didn't know why she was saying that.

"I'm sorry about everything," Padmé tried to reason out. Why was she apologizing? He'd shot her. He'd apologized for it. She'd smacked him, and it was warranted, but she'd apologized last night anyway. "I just… I just want things to… between you and me…"

Blast it all, what was she trying to say? She was better than this stammering mess she was being.

"Look, I just… the only way things are going to get better for us is if we talk." She managed to work out, and a small part of her wondered if she was saying this for Vader's sake or hers.

"There are other ways by which things can improve," Vader remarked softly, catching Padmé off guard.

"How?" she asked, clinging to a desperate hope that things might actually work out.

"Your actions are all that matter," Vader said.

Padmé waited for a punchline, but none came. She grew slightly exasperated. "Yes, actions are great. What actions are you talking about specifically?"

Then she shook her head. "Wait, why am I the one jumping through hoops here? You made a mistake as well, you know. I accept your apology, but those are just words. What actions do you have for me?"

"You're not dead."

Padmé felt the blood drain out of her face, and she took a step back. "W-what?"

Vader shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable. "Master wanted you dead. I thought I'd killed you. I… when I saw you were still alive, it was going directly against Master's orders. You're supposed to be dead. But I… won't kill you. I… I can't go through that again."

Padmé didn't know what to make of this information. Should she be happy that he chose not to kill her? Grateful? Terrified that he had even still considered it? Angry that the only reason he wouldn't kill her was because of the pain it would cause him?

The last thought was what stuck in her mind, and she suddenly took a step forward, incensed. "Palpatine isn't the only person who matters. Neither are you. Is that all you can think about? How to—"

She cut herself off. What was she thinking? Of course pleasing Palpatine was all he thought about. He was his father. Blast it, she was the one who knew Darth Vader for heaven's sake. Then she choked on her words, realizing that Vader had actually acknowledged how he would feel about a situation and she had immediately shot him down.

"Vader—" she started to say desperately, wanting to immediately fix the problem she'd just created.

Vader interrupted her. "Your actions are all that matter. They've said enough."

What did that mean? What actions was he referring to?

The ship shuddered, and Al's voice was heard over the intercom. "We've arrived at Ghanu'jivo."

Vader sighed, slowly putting down what he'd been working on. Then he took a few steps towards Padmé, saying, "Obi-Wan wanted me here. Siri wanted me here. You want me here."

He paused in front her, just a breath away. Padmé stared into his eyes, their intensity burning into her.

He said softly, "So here I am."

"Hey!"

Padmé nearly jumped out of her skin, so entranced with Vader's gaze and quiet voice that she hadn't heard someone open the small panel that accessed the ladder. Al was apparently calling for them from the lounge. Darth Vader watched her for an instant longer and then climbed up to reunite with the others. Padmé took a few seconds to catch her breath before following.

The landing ramp was already open, and Obi-Wan, Siri, Al, and Vader were in the process of disembarking. The rest of the family was more hesitant, waiting for Padmé, who led them outside with a reassuring smile.

It seemed that this part of Ghanu'jivo was a land of forests, valleys, streams, and distant mountains. The weather was blissfully warm in comparison to the cold winter temperatures from Naboo, Salkende, and Eriadu. Padmé saw multitudes of people dressed in both Rebel and foreign attire, and she assumed the strange looking ones were the Jedi. They held themselves in a similar manner to her Jedi protector, Qui-Gon Jinn, and she also was struck by how much Obi-Wan and Siri had absorbed that demeanor in their own ways.

And then she saw Éothen.

The Salkenden looked somber but calm, watching them with a distant gaze. Padmé felt her heart grow heavy as she contemplated how she would handle this situation now.

Snap-hiss.

Padmé gasped, recognizing the sound and immediately reaching for her blaster, though she stopped herself for the briefest moment—after all, there were Jedi everywhere, so surely that was the sound of one of their blades—before realizing that it was a good instinct to grab her weapon.

Darth Vader had summoned Siri's blade and was charging towards Éothen with a ferocious roar.

Padmé, Obi-Wan, and Siri all yelled for him to stop, all charged forward, but they couldn't reach him in time. However, Éothen grabbed Padmé's shoto, having held on to it since her rescue, and activated it, blocking the attack. Vader paused at this before flinging his hand forward and somehow sending Éothen flying without even touching him. Then the shoto slipped from the Salkenden's slack grip and flew to Vader's outreached hand.

"Vader, stop!" Padmé shouted as she finally reached him.

Vader turned his eyes on her, and they were a sharp, sickening yellow. His face was contorted in a rage she'd never seen on him before, and she took three steps back, horrified.

"That's enough!" Obi-Wan called, activating his own blade, which glowed blue.

By this point most of the Jedi in the vicinity were also armed and ready to take Vader down, but Siri waved madly at them to prevent them. Padmé's family stood by the ship, terrified, and Al held his blaster tightly, aiming at Vader's head.

"Anakin, what are you doing?" Obi-Wan asked as he stood between him and Éothen, who was quickly getting back up and looking ready to continue the fight. Padmé looked between the two men desperately.

"He needs to die!" Vader spat.

"No one is dying today," Obi-Wan retorted firmly.

Éothen started to charge, and Padmé caught sight of him in time to rush over to him, putting a steadying hand on his chest. "Éothen, don't!"

The Salkenden whirled on her, but his glare simmered down to a wary expression as his eyes settled on Vader once more. Padmé also looked at the man and saw him staring at her, anger gone, eyes wide, a strange expression of hurt, hatred, and confusion on his face. Then, abruptly, he deactivated both blades and stormed in another direction, and Siri's quick gesture ensured that the Jedi didn't stand in his way.

"What the hell was that all about?" Al demanded to no one in particular. Before anyone could answer, he shook his head, telling the Naberrie family to follow him to the main base. Obi-Wan, Siri, Padmé, and Éothen remained surrounded by Jedi.

"Why did you stop me?" Éothen asked Padmé as Obi-Wan and Siri directed their attention to the Jedi.

"He would have killed you," Padmé emphasized.

Éothen huffed, looking away bitterly. "You don't know anything about my abilities, Amidala. Don't assume I couldn't handle myself."

Padmé started to grow frustrated, snapping, "Don't be an idiot, Éothen. He is a trained killer, a Force user, and is more than used to eliminating entire armies on his own."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Éothen spat, facing her fully. "I've heard about your relationship with him – you weren't just distracting him on that vacation to Naboo, you were falling for him."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Padmé retorted, though she really wasn't sure how to respond.

Éothen exhaled sharply, shaking his head with disgust and walking away. Padmé, equally angry and still filled with adrenaline after what had happened, growled and stormed in the opposite direction, heading straight for Obi-Wan, who had apparently just finished talking to the Jedi.

"This is ridiculous." She ranted before he could even say a word. "I try to save his life and he gets mad at me."

Obi-Wan watched her silently, probably trying to figure out what she was talking about, but she was too angry to explain. Eventually, though, he said, "Padmé. Calm down."

"Calm down? I'm not the one who started getting accusatory with someone who just saved my life!" she snarled, pacing.

"Padmé," Obi-Wan repeated, and his calm tone started to ease her nerves, at least getting her to stand still. "I imagine that his frustration isn't about you saving him."

"What are you even talking about, Obi?" Padmé asked tiredly, suddenly drained from the ordeal.

Obi-Wan took a slow breath. "Let's look at this from his perspective. You have lost most of your family, and that is what is most important to you and your culture. A senator comes up and says she can help you rebuild your clan by marrying you. You lose even more of your family and your team. Now this person is all you have left and she has promised to help rebuild your clan. Then suddenly, this person starts to back out of the arrangement that she got you into in the first place as soon as another viable candidate appears for marriage. How do you think you are going to feel?"

"That's not what happened!" Padmé argued.

"Not entirely, no," Obi-Wan agreed. "But that's how Éothen sees it."

Padmé stopped and felt even more tired and stressed than before. She felt like she'd aged a decade over the past few weeks. Groaning, she buried her face in her hands, sinking to the ground. "Everything that's happened to him and his people is my fault."

"Don't say that," Obi-Wan said softy, sitting beside her. "You couldn't have expected all of this. None of us did. Rash decisions were made, but beyond that none of this was your fault."

Padmé looked at her brother forlornly. "Tell me how it's not my fault, Obi. As you said, I'm the one who promised Éothen I would rebuild his clan. After that, he and his team went through so much effort and risked all their lives, losing their lives, to save me. And after that, his planet was practically destroyed by the Empire."

"The Empire attacked his world because it was a base for the Rebels, not because of you."

"They would have never joined the Alliance if it hadn't been for me."

"Padmé, blaming yourself will do you no good, nor will it change what has happened," Obi-Wan insisted. "This isn't your fault."

Padmé wasn't entirely convinced, but she was at least somewhat cheered by his reassurance. Biting her lip, she glanced at her brother. "I'm sorry. For what I said earlier. I… I was out of line."

Obi-Wan sighed, looking away for a moment. "I'm sorry too, Padmé. Because you were right – I was too distant. I…"

Before he could find the right words to say, Padmé grabbed him in a fierce hug, burying her face in his shoulder. Obi-Wan stiffened initially, surprised, before returning the embrace.

"I love you," he whispered.

Padmé felt tears well in her eyes, but for the first time in eternity, they weren't from sadness or confusion or hurt. She smiled into her brother's shoulder and held him more tightly. "I love you too."

Eventually the two pulled away, and Padmé looked around to see that everyone had dispersed. "What about Vader? Shouldn't we go after him?"

"I will handle that," Obi-Wan said with a low tone that indicated he was steeling himself for a confrontation. "I'd appreciate it if you could help Siri plead his case with the Jedi and Alliance councils. I imagine they are not pleased with the turn of events."

Padmé looked at her brother uncertainly. She most certainly didn't want Vader in a cell, but she honestly wasn't sure they would be able to convince the others, especially after the bonehead move Vader had just pulled. Of course, she was only just now considering why he would even do such a thing, and she really couldn't come up with much of a reason aside from perhaps pure jealousy.

Which would imply, of course, that Vader was still in love with her.

Padmé suddenly found it very difficult to catch her breath. She didn't know why this was such a shocking discovery - Vader's behavior over the past day and a half didn't exactly imply that he didn't care. But... somehow it still stole her breath away, imagining that the emotions they had felt when they danced on Thecine were still buried in each of them, that somehow they might be able to rekindle those emotions... somehow. In a world without his past transgressions, in a world without a war between his faction and hers, in a war without Jedi and Sith, in a world without Salkende and her engagement, in a world where her actions reached him like he'd said. Somehow it could work.

Obi-Wan no longer noticed her, rising and heading another way. The movement startled her out of her musings, and she quickly tried to reorganize her thoughts to figure out how in the blazes she would ensure Vader wasn't executed or imprisoned.

The prospects weren't exactly promising.


A mild drizzle had begun to saturate the ground and permeate the air a fair distance from the Jedi training grounds. The grass was slippery, and visibility was beginning to diminish. It had taken over an hour to get to this point. It reminded Obi-Wan strikingly of the day he and Siri had pursued Anakin outside of Firro, though the circumstances seemed quite different now.

Though the air was still, the Force was alive with energy, tumultuously moving around him, leaving him a little dizzy. Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, continuing his trek, and he eventually reached the source of the storm. Anakin stood at the precipice of a cliff that overlooked a waterfall, standing stiffly.

Obi-Wan didn't have to speak. Anakin already sensed him, and immediately began to rant. "I'm not a Rebel. I never will be. Never. So whatever you have to say, it won't matter. I won't listen to the Jedi, I won't listen to the Alliance. And I will not get near that… that thing."

"That thing is a person," Obi-Wan reminded him a little curtly, angry that Anakin would do such a thing when the situation was already difficult enough. A part of him knew the man really didn't have much control over his emotions—for heaven's sake, he was still figuring out he had them, let alone what they were or how to deal with them—but that didn't change the fact that Anakin had just made everyone's lives far more difficult than necessary. "And that person is a very important member of the Alliance."

"All the more reason to kill him!" Anakin shouted, whirling on Obi-Wan.

"This has to do with Padmé, doesn't it?" Obi-Wan asked, sighing. A small part of him longed for the days before all of this stress, before Anakin Skywalker had ever entered their lives, before Padmé had thrown herself at the second most dangerous man in the galaxy. But a part of him thought that world seemed emptier - a world without a reminder of the beauty of life constantly looking him in the eye, a world without such complete innocent curiosity that it baffled the mind, a world without the possibility of redemption.

It was still bloody exhausting, though.

"If he hadn't existed Padmé would have never—" Anakin started to say before stopping himself, suddenly put out. He looked away.

"Would have never what?" Obi-Wan prodded calmly, tiredly. "Would have never betrayed you?"

Anakin shook his head, sitting on the grass and hanging his legs over the edge of the cliff. Obi-Wan took another deep breath and sat beside him. Remembering Padmé's own voiced frustrations back on the Beauty, he asked, "Are you angry at her too?"

Anakin exhaled loudly, covering his eyes with his left hand and folding in on himself. "You expect me to know?"

Obi-Wan tipped his head. Fair enough, though he was pretty certain Anakin had at least an inkling of what he was feeling. "In either case, you cannot do this. You cannot just attack random people around the base, Anakin. Your fate is tenuous enough as it is."

Anakin's hand slowly slid down his face until collapsing on his lap, leaving him glaring out at the majestic waterfall as rain pelted his skin. Both men were soaked by now, but neither noticed it.

"None of this would have been an issue if we'd stuck to the original plan," Anakin remarked bitterly.

The original plan? "Running away?"

Anakin nodded.

"You would have never reunited with Padmé."

Anakin clenched his jaw. Does it matter at this point?

"What is that supposed to mean? I know you love her." Obi-Wan countered.

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan a moment, surprised that he'd heard his thought, and then stared irritably at the waterfall once more. After remaining that way for almost two minutes, Obi-Wan shook his head, holding out his hand. "Give me the weapons."

Reluctantly, Anakin slapped Siri's lightsaber into Obi-Wan's hand, but the red shoto Éothen had used remained on his belt. Obi-Wan cleared his throat, motioning towards it, and Anakin shook his head.

"It's mine," he said.

"Just because you took it from Éothen does not make it yours," Obi-Wan said with slight exasperation – the boy really did act like such a child sometimes.

"It's mine," Anakin repeated.

"Are you implying he somehow stole a shoto from you?" Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him.

Anakin looked away.

"Anakin. Give me the weapon."

The boy remained motionless, and when Obi-Wan reached for the hilt himself, Anakin rose abruptly.

"I won't attack him," he ground out as if the words themselves disgusted him. "But I'm not giving this back to him either. It's not his."

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "You do realize the Jedi and Alliance won't want you running around with a weapon?"

"Then I won't let them see it."

"Anakin."

Anakin furrowed his brow, suddenly confounded as to why Obi-Wan was seemingly randomly stating his name. The Jedi sighed again.

"Very well. Hide it if you wish. But I swear, Anakin, if you use it—"

Anakin held up a hand. "I said I won't. Trust me."

Obi-Wan looked at the young man sadly. "I do trust you, Anakin, with my life. With Siri's life, with our child's life. Just not with his."

"So you don't trust me." Anakin stated flatly.

"I do," Obi-Wan insisted. "But you must trust me as well. Trust my judgement, my decision. I decided to bring you here."

Anakin looked at his feet, the Force rippling uneasily. Then he closed his eyes, sucking in a breath and the Force was pulled inward as if he were sucking that in as well. Ice filled the air, and Anakin exhaled, looking at Obi-Wan neutrally. "I won't attack anyone."

It was apparent that he would not give up the shoto without a fight. Obi-Wan was in no mood to provoke one. Sighing a third time, Obi-Wan stepped away. "Very well. I'll hold you to it."

Tired of the conversation, he gave one last sad glance to the young man and then departed.


Al crossed his arms, tensing slightly as he watched the Naberrie family settle into their new quarters. It just figured that as soon as they landed Vader had to cause problems. What the blazes had that been about, anyway? He shook his head. It didn't matter. He wasn't going to be the one to fix it—he still wasn't convinced Vader was stable enough to be let loose, and the man certainly proved his point—but he knew it would be incredibly taxing on Obi-Wan and Siri. Maybe Padmé, too, if she had opened back up to him… if she was crazy enough to open back up to him.

Blast, that whole family was insane.

Sighing, Al dragged his feet down the hall. He had his own issue to worry about now – Odeki Rubar, Al's Intelligence contact, was dead, and his widow, Aya, was the woman Al had smuggled to the Rebel base as part of the spying deal. Al was willing to bet she didn't know what had happened since no one from Salkende would have known about her. That meant the task of telling her was up to him.

"My day just keeps getting better and better," he muttered to himself.

Making his way to the makeshift lab that had been set up, Al paused in the entranceway. Aya's pregnancy was starting to show now, her belly ever so slightly swollen. The smuggler clenched his jaw. He didn't want to do this. His hand was forced, however, when Aya noticed him, pausing from work synthesizing Kelathik serum.

"Hey," Al said, his voice rough. "How you doing?"

"Do you need something?" she asked, as cold as ever.

A dark part of Al wondered if she would even be upset at Odeki's death, but then he remembered how she had reassured her husband before they had left Imperial Center. She didn't trust the Rebels, but she adored her husband. Al felt sick.

"Yes. Yes, I… have to talk to you." He stated reluctantly.

Aya started to look nervous, taking a small step away from him. "About what?"

"It's… it's about… Aya, your husband…" Al stammered, trying to find the right way to say it. At this point the woman would piece it together on her own, and though that would make it easier for him, it was still incredibly… rude? Cruel? He didn't know. It just didn't feel right to leave her guessing.

But guess she did, and Aya's eyes widened, her mouth opening in horror. "What happened? Was… did the Empire…?"

"Intelligence got him," Al finally managed to spit out gruffly. "I… there was nothing I could do. I'm so sorry."

Aya covered her mouth with a hand, tears glistening in her eyes. Al felt like dirt. He took a step towards her. "I… if there's anything I can do…"

"Get out," she whispered brokenly, turning sharply so her back was to him. "Please. Just… get out."

Al stepped away, watching her sadly. "I'm so sorry."

With that said, he left the lab, feeling miserable.

Meanwhile, a heated debate was taking place in the council chambers, where Padmé had just entered.

"We gave you one last chance, after he attacked Jedi, and in the end—"

"—Can't go about attacking—"

"He's dangerous—"

"He could be useful—"

"That is enough," a Togruta Jedi interrupted firmly as Padmé neared the group.

Before the Jedi could continue, Bail Organa noticed Padmé, and his face lit up with relief and a warm smile. "Padmé. It's so good to see you."

Padmé returned the smile. "I guess you already knew, then?"

"The Salkendens and Captain Brek briefed us fully on the situation," Organa explained. "We were most certainly surprised, to say the least. I didn't realize…"

"That I was stuck in the middle of a power play?" Padmé finished for him. "Me neither. But I'm here now… and I'm glad to be back."

Bail reciprocated the sentiment, placing a hand on her shoulder, and for a moment she didn't have any worries, just relieved to be safe with allies for the first time in what felt like years.

Closer to the other Jedi, Padmé recognized Qui-Gon Jinn, who was also watching her with a soft sense of happiness. "We're glad to have you back."

Siri, who had watched the exchange silently, finally spoke up, putting the meeting back on its course. "Look, I understand that Vader's dangerous. Believe me, I've seen what he's capable of. What he did today was out of line, but what you're forgetting is that he stopped. He didn't even hurt Éothen."

"He shouldn't have attacked him at all!" an Alliance general noted.

"This is Darth Vader we're talking about, people," Siri pointed out in a somewhat exasperated tone. "Are you really expecting him to be polite and gentle with Rebels? Baby steps."

"Viceroy Organa had said that Commander Kenobi would have one week to get valuable information out of Vader," General Dodonna noted. "It has been more than a week. What information has the Sith Lord provided?"

Here Siri faltered, and Padmé looked around the room, trying to ascertain what had caused the ultimatum in the first place. Qui-Gon, however, stepped up to help Siri. "The past two weeks haven't held many opportunities for interrogation, I should think, what with being attacked and fleeing, and then going into hiding for a period of time."

"No more excuses!" another council member yelled. "That's all you Jedi have been making for him! Isn't he your sworn enemy?"

"The Dark Side is our sworn enemy," Qui-Gon replied. "Darth Vader is not necessarily an agent of it."

"Vader's position as a Sith may not be as concrete as we previously thought," the Togruta Jedi noted, catching everyone's attention. "But that doesn't change the current dilemma."

"He saved our lives from Imperials," Siri finally spoke up again. "On multiple occasions. I've lost count how many times he's saved us. He took on an entire star destroyer's forces on Ferrasco to make sure Obi-Wan and I escaped. He may not have provided us information yet, but his loyalty is not to the Empire."

"That may be," Bail sighed. "But he has proven he is still too dangerous to be trusted alone. We must imprison him."

"Imprison him?" Padmé repeated. "That's not going to help!"

"If you throw him in a cell it will only have a negative impact on him," Siri insisted.

"We cannot keep letting him get away with his actions," another councilman shook his head. "And no one feels safe with him wandering around."

Padmé bit her lip. She didn't blame the Alliance for the idea, but that would not aid Vader at all. How would he react to being imprisoned again? Angry? Hurt? Neutral? How could she stop this?

"Can't he stay somewhere in the Jedi compounds? Away from our base?" She suggested.

"The Jedi relinquished their custody of Vader after the last incident," Dodonna waved a frustrated hand.

Last incident? Stars, how much trouble had Vader caused?

"You have twenty-four hours to get information out of him," Bail finally said. "I cannot make any more allowances beyond that."

Padmé saw Siri's worried expression and felt her own gut clench. Neither woman was sure they would be able to deliver on that requirement. But at least it was a chance.

"Agreed," Siri finally said, her voice tight.

"And if he slips up one more time, he dies right then and there," Dodonna warned. "No excuses."

Siri eyed the general, stony faced and silent. Padmé felt the tension thicken in the room, and she herself was growing more anxious by the moment. Siri took a deep breath and looked away.

"With that matter settled, I have something I must discuss with the Alliance council," the Togruta Jedi promptly cut in. "I have already spoken to the Jedi Council about it and we are in agreement. When I took over the enclave after Master Windu's death, I inherited his journals, which contain a wealth of information that was not shared with the rest of the Jedi. Some of it is useful only for cultural purposes, but there is a lead that I wish to pursue to test for its validity. I will be departing, and the Council will remain in charge of the enclave with Master Lu as temporary head."

"What are you investigating?" Bail asked.

The Jedi tipped her head. "Possible allies. I won't elaborate simply to avoid false hope. I will return in no more than a week's time."

The Alliance council acknowledged her, and as she left, Padmé saw Éothen enter the room, and she tensed. Had the council invited him, or was he barging in for a specific reason? Did it have to do with her?

What was she going to do about him? She knew her time to delay the inevitable was quickly running out. But after her conversation with Obi-Wan, she was unfortunately finally settling on a decision. But Vader... earlier she'd been graced with the thought that they had a chance, that they both still loved each other. Surely love was enough to get them through? If Vader still loved her, and she went through with this… but there was no way she couldn't go through with this…

Padmé squeezed her eyes closed, shaking her head. She hated herself more than anyone else for getting herself into this mess.

"Éothen," Bail acknowledged. "The Alliance wanted to extend a formal thank you for everything you have done for us and our people. We are truly in your debt."

Well, at least that answered why Éothen was there. Padmé opened her eyes, ignoring the headache that had started to drum in her skull.

"You can thank me by helping me in return," Éothen responded. Padmé felt her chest tighten. Here it comes. "My people are homeless and unable to take on the Empire alone. You must help us retake the Tsograda Sector."

Padmé blinked. That… wasn't what she'd expected him to say. She supposed she shouldn't be too surprised; like her, Éothen had many problems to worry about, not just their relationship.

The Alliance council shifted uneasily. "We understand your desire to retake your home, but we suffered in that attack as well. We may not have the numbers to retake your entire sector, and if we only take your world, the Empire will immediately eliminate us."

Éothen took a steadying breath, his eyes starting to bore into the councilmen. "My people have sacrificed everything for yours. Honor demands you return that favor."

"It isn't completely impossible," a man in the corner piped up.

"Does Rebel Intelligence know something, Captain Andor?" Bail questioned.

"Salkende is undefended," the spy captain explained. "The Empire dedicated most of its attention to Grand Moff Rhaegon, but his forces are falling apart as we speak. An official declaration of Darth Vader's death was made, and security around Imperial Center is tightening. Their focus is no longer on Tsograda; the entire sector is only protected by a small fleet."

"But as soon as we attack, they'll send an armada in," Gen. Dodonna pointed out.

"Tsograda is a self-contained war machine," Éothen piped in. "If we can retake the sector, it'll be able to protect itself. Believe me, the Empire will not get the upper hand over us again. Senator Tlenden can rally the rest of Tsograda."

"Senator Tlenden is dead," Bail informed him in a soft tone. "He was executed under the emperor regent's orders."

Éothen paused, closed his eyes, and sighed. Then he huffed, almost as if in amusement, and shook his head. "Of course. Then I will rally the people."

"If we are going to do this, now would be the opportune time," Capt. Andor noted. "The Empire is busy finishing off Rhaegon and reeling from Vader's supposed death."

"Why does the Empire suddenly think he's dead?" Padmé asked. "Didn't they say he was indisposed before? What changed?"

"We're not sure," Andor answered, looking ill at ease with the prospect. "Could just be a power play by Tarkin. We're looking into it."

Padmé looked down thoughtfully. Another power play. Was this in retaliation for her escape? Was he securing his position?

Of course he was. She wasn't supposed to be alive. He had defied Palpatine. If word of that got out…

"I might have a way for us to derail the Empire even more," Padmé said, catching everyone's attention. "We can use Tarkin's plot against him."

"What do you mean?" Siri asked.

"Palpatine had ordered my execution. Tarkin went against that order. If we let that information leak, it might make people less likely to follow him." Padmé suggested.

Bail raised an eyebrow. "But Tarkin's already emperor regent. Hasn't he basically eliminated the competition?"

"Padmé, I don't see how that argument will really help considering the previous emperor wanted you dead," Siri noted, crossing her arms skeptically. "I mean, the fact that you're alive will be shocking to people, but Palpatine's orders basically declare you a traitor. No one would care what Tarkin did to you."

"Except Tarkin kept a traitor alive," Padmé tried to argue.

"Maybe. But I'm sure he'll come up with some kind of excuse. He's got to have powerful friends if he even managed to get this far."

Vader would know, Padmé thought. They had to talk to him about it. The fate of Tsograda and the Alliance itself depended on tripping up Tarkin. She let the argument drop, unwilling to pull Vader into the conversation – if she said he had valuable information on the subject the Alliance would demand he tell them within the twenty-four hour window they'd allotted him. She was fairly certain that in itself would be reason enough for him to be all the more uncooperative.

"The point is that Salkende needs your help," Éothen finally cut in. "Will you provide it or not?"

The council was silent for a few moments, members exchanging glances, before Bail spoke for all of them. "Unless anyone has a valid dissent, the Alliance will provide aid. We'll organize a counterstrike immediately."

The other councilmen were silent in agreement. Éothen bowed slightly. "Thank you."

"There's no need for that," Bail said. "We owe you infinitely more for all your people have done."

With that said, the meeting was adjourned. Both Jedi and Rebels wandered out of the room, and Siri looked between Padmé and Éothen before leaving with Qui-Gon. Before she knew it, Padmé was alone with Éothen. The Salkenden said nothing initially, staring at the projector where the council had been gathered, looking preoccupied. Padmé watched him for a while longer, wondering how she would approach this, making sure she was doing what was best for the greater good and not what was selfish.

I would say it'd be nice to be selfish, but I'm pretty sure I've made plenty of selfish decisions that have led us into just as much trouble, Padmé thought irritably. It was now or never. It was time to finish this and repay her own debts, own up to her own mistakes. Even if it meant...

Oh Vader... I'm so sorry.

She had to do this. Whether she loved Vader or not, whether he loved her or not, she had to this.

She hated herself even more with each passing second.

"Éothen," she started off hesitantly. The man turned to look at her, a distant look in his eyes. "I… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything that's happened to you and your people. I'm so sorry for all the pain I caused."

She paused, unsure how to continue, and Éothen said nothing to prompt her. He simply waited, and she wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

"My engagement to you has brought you nothing but trouble, all on the promise of renewing what's most important to you," she continued. "I… I don't want to hurt you anymore. I…"

"You won't," he cut in abruptly, sounding strangely unhappy about this conversation. Was he misinterpreting her? She was trying to say she would go through with the engagement, she was trying to push beyond her reluctance and emotions and the voice in her head that was screaming that she was being an idiot about everything.

"I won't?" she repeated confusedly.

Éothen swallowed, placing his hands behind his back. "My clan is gone. I may have a chance to restart, but… not with you. I have to protect what's left of my planet, and I cannot do that with someone as unpredictably dangerous as you."

Padmé blanched. "What?"

"I'm not a smooth politician, but that doesn't make me an idiot," Éothen said, and now his voice was starting to grow sharp. "I know you have feelings for Darth Vader. Whatever insane reason would compel you to be attached to a murderer is reason enough for our engagement to end, let alone all your hesitancy and obvious manipulation in the first place. It's obvious you're unstable and can't hold a commitment. I have enough instability in my life – I don't need your irresponsible and irrational behavior to be part of it."

Before Padmé could say anything else, Éothen bowed formally. "Goodbye, senator."

Padmé watched him leave the room, wide eyed. What…? She… she felt… she felt so free all of a sudden, like she could fly through the sky. Then she felt miserable – what had she done? What had he done? Why was this so complicated? Why couldn't she be happy that she was no longer trapped in an engagement that no one wanted? Why did she have to be stupid enough to get into one in the first and place and cause so much damage before someone else had the gall to end it? Why did she have to feel so guilty about being happy?

Groaning, Padmé slouched as she was torn by mixed emotions before rubbing her hand over her face. "Damn it!"

Damn it!


The Jedi enclave and Rebel base were buzzing with activity as plans were thrown together for the retaking of the Tsograda Sector. Obi-Wan and Siri consulted with the tactical team about the situation on Ferrasco briefly before properly reuniting with Qui-Gon, enjoying a calming conversation with the man and recounting the events. Éothen sat quietly at the edge of the compound, his eyes staring at nothing in particular as his mind thought about a million different concerns.

But far from the Jedi's reach, Aya Rubar, newly widowed, wandered the forest, no longer in despair, but filled with fiery determination that enflamed her soul and eliminated all scruples from her mind. She'd heard about the attack on the Salkenden by the Sith. She'd heard that the imprisoned emperor had returned. And after a few hours of searching, she finally saw him.

Approaching him, she watched his analytical gaze as he examined her. Then she whispered, "Are you really Lord Vader?"

The man nodded, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Rubar swallowed. "I can help you."