Author's Note: This was supposed to go up Sunday. All I have to say is Migraines suck. Enjoy.

Chapter 89

Vader's Flag Ship Exactor - Month Twenty Seven, Day Fourteen PEF

Early morning

Padmé stared out the viewport as the starlines passed in blurs of brilliant light.

They'd left Naboo roughly two days before, jumping to hyperspace almost immediately and headed for a location unknown to her. That they were still in hyperspace led her to believe they were headed to Coruscant, which was unlikely considering Anakin wanted to keep her as far away from the Emperor as possible. No, more likely they were headed to another of the core worlds, or possibly beyond them into the known mid rim planets. It was only a guess on her part, for she hadn't seen Anakin since his departure from their suite the day they'd arrived in orbit.

Their argument right before his departure had been heated and brief, and Padmé had been left in tears, overwhelmed by the reminder of who he had been and everything they'd lost, the memories threatening to break her for the first time in months. Flashbacks had been near instant and brutally persistent, taking her back to times where they had been happy, in sync and in love. Images of their more passionate times, stolen moments between missions and senate meetings.

Threepio had tried to help her, but hadn't been able to reach her.

It had taken her almost the whole of the time he'd been on planet to sort through the images and walk herself through the darkness to put herself back together. The shredded hopes she held in a fragile hold at war with the knowledge of what had been and what might still be. If only Anakin wanted it as badly as she did.

Artoo had returned, greeted her amicably and spent time with both her and Threepio, but after two days of the droid coming in and out of the suite, of anticipating Anakin's return so she could finally get some answers, she'd come to an inevitable and disappointing conclusion.

Anakin was avoiding her.

Again.

For a man who like to face most of foes head on, she found his lack of presence frustrating and infuriating.

The worst part by far was the broken promise on top of the other broken promises he'd given her. His promise to treat her as an equal, to give her freedom had been nothing but pretty words to keep her placated. While he'd been on Naboo, she'd tried to leave their suite only to find herself locked in and the comm. system giving her access to a single office who was always polite but otherwise useless. Vader's promises to allow her to assist with finding Luke and Leia was another casualty; with his continued denials of her to his office, she'd lost hope of him honoring their deal. His continued absences and infrequent contact only reinforced that she was not his equal partner.

Despite all of this, she was determined to get her answers... once she could get him in front of her.

Threepio and Artoo were charging, the flickering lights of their charging ports illuminating the darkness about them behind her, and she turned to look at the droids instead of the starlines for a change in scenery.

Artoo had been less than forthcoming with his master's whereabouts, saying only that he was preparing for a planetary landing and had been spending his time in the hangar bay and the detention centre. After the first day and a half, Padmé had asked Artoo to deliver a message; a message that had gone unanswered for all the droid had assured her he'd delivered it.

Isolated as she was, Padmé chose to bide her time; Anakin would return eventually - everything of his was inside the suite.

The hours passed slowly as Padmé maintained her vigil. Yet Anakin didn't return.

Artoo completed his recharging cycle and, as Artoo was slipping out of his charging station, he toodled at her in concern, Threepio still having some time left on his cycle.

"I'm alright, Artoo," she assured him tiredly. Her anger burned in her gut, sustaining her, but it had shifted into disappointment. Anakin hadn't been one to go back on his promises to her before their... before. If this change was a consequence of that time between, it wasn't one she particularly liked and he would hear her. "Do you know where Anakin is?"

He gave a mournful negative followed by an apologetic sound.

"It's not your fault, Artoo," Padmé assured him.

The chime at the door sounded and she glanced at it in surprise. Striding over to the controls, she pressed the comm. panel. "Yes?"

"The door controls have been released, Lady Vader." one of the troopers stationed at her door told her.

"Thank you, trooper," Padmé clicked off the comm. with a frown and glanced at Artoo, who had followed her to the door. "Unlocked? Well, good, right? Come on, Artoo, let's go for a walk while Threepio finished his charging cycle. I'm sick of this room."

Padmé hit the door controls and was gratified to see the door slide open. The troopers at her door stood at attention as she stepped through and she waved them away when they made to follow. "Follow me," she told them pleasantly, "and I'll make sure you spend the next forty eight hours in a bacta tank."

"Our orders-"

"Are you guard this room," she told them firmly. "Disobey me at your peril, trooper, for I am an excellent shot and I know every weak point on that armor."

The troopers exchanged looks, clearly communicating beneath their helmets and Padmé turned to go.

"My lady-"

"Don't test me, trooper," glancing back over her shoulder, she kept her words pleasant.

"But, my lady-"

"If you finish that sentence with anything but have a nice walk, it will be the last thing you speak for some time. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, my lady." there was a pause and then an inclination of their heads. "Have a nice walk."

"Thank you, troopers."

Leaving them behind her, Padmé headed for the training salle. She needed to work off some of the excess energy being cooped up for days had given her. When she arrived however, she found it occupied.

And not by the individual she was looking for.

The familiar figure was going through a series of katas that Padmé didn't recognize, her twin blades in hand but un-ignited. The dark circles about her eyes stood out in her pale face as she breathed evenly, deliberate in her motions. Pausing in the doorway, Padmé glanced down at Artoo, who remained silent, only to have the ice-blue eyes of the Force Adept looking back at her when she lifted her head back to the other woman.

"Padmé."

"Asajj."

"I see you've slipped the leash."

"And you look no worse for wear." Determined to be civil, Padmé kept her hands loosely at her sides and her tone even. "How was Naboo?"

"Interesting," Asajj smiled but Padmé could see there was no job behind it; it was a calculated move, as much as the appraising look that was now aimed her way. Even as she did, she stepped into the next deliberate stance. "And informative."

"Which you would only tell me if you wanted me to ask, Asajj." Despite the distance and animosity now between them, this part of the Force Adept hadn't changed. "What did you learn?"

"Shouldn't you be asking your dear husband?"

"How you do know I haven't already?"

Asajj laughed softly. "You're far too calm, Padmé."

Padmé frowned at the cryptic comment. Had something happened on Naboo that she was unaware of? "Is there something I should know specifically?"

"Nothing the holonews won't be able to tell you." turning, Asajj presented her profile to Padmé and continued breathing evenly, slipping into a crouched balance position. "If you're allowed to watch the holonews."

Biting back a sharp retort, Padmé breathed deeply before answering. "That still doesn't answer my question about what you learned, Asajj."

"A conversation for another time." Ventress effectively cut off the line of conversation and changed its direction. "Did you meet your guest while we were away?"

"My guest?"

"That would be a no," straightening from her crouch with a smooth move, Asajj stepped back. "Perhaps you should ask your... husband."

"I would if I could find him," Padmé returned evenly. "You'll be pleased to know he refused to answer my questions about Lianna and the rest."

"You expected otherwise?" Asajj chuckled, shaking her head. "Every day he closes the net around you further and you... you lie there, accepting your fate. Where is the woman who was so determined to rid the galaxy of Vader? Where's the woman who saw nothing but the misdeeds and atrocities of the Sith Lord? Or have you forgotten the fate of the Wookiees? The Twi'leks sold into slavery? Have you been brought so under his spell that you don't remember the younglings in the Jedi temple?"

"Stop it!"

"The truth cannot be stopped. No matter how good his mask, or how much you deny what he is, that truth will surface sooner or later, Padmé." With a noise of contempt, Asajj stepped towards the door. "I look forward to watching you betray everything you believe in, Lady Vader, as you search the reaches of the galaxy for the one thing you will never find at his side."

Padmé held her tongue as Asajj disappeared into the hallway, though she desperately wanted to say something to refute the accusation. Even to bring Luke and Leia home, she would never sacrifice the very values that had driven her life. She'd sacrificed everything to ensure those ideals prospered only to have the very foundation of her belief shaken when the Senate had voted for the formation of the Galactic Empire only to wake up to find herself in labour and abandoned.

Artoo pressed into her leg and whistled a concerned inquiry.

"I'll be okay Artoo. I shouldn't let her get to me, especially not when I know she's trying to drive a wedge between Anakin and I." With a sigh, she shook her head and rubbed her hands over her face. "I just wish he'd talk to me. The more he avoids and won't talk with me, the more I can't help thinking that she might be telling me the truth. Am I blind, Artoo?"

He toodled a reply and beeped a rude noise, making her smile.

"Thanks." she patted his dome. "Now, who is this visitor that they keep talking about?"

Outside the training room, Asajj paused to listen to the exchange between Padmé and the droid.

As Padmé voiced the very question Asajj had hoped to illicit, her lips twitched. Padmé was not going to like what she found when the droid led her to their guest. Even less when Vader caught her with him.

A shame Asajj couldn't be a bug on the wall to observe. She had her own preparations to make, however, and quickly slipped away before the droid led Padmé exactly where Asajj wanted her.

"Why are we on the detention level, Artoo?" A shiver ran down Padmé's spine as Artoo directed the lift to open on the high security level. She'd never have made it on her own, not that she was sure why they were there to begin with, but her privileges didn't include this deck. "I asked you to take me to the guest they keep talking about. Guests aren't generally kept on the detention level.

Artoo gave a mournfully soft sound she didn't recognize, but he was too far ahead of her for her to read the translation.

They passed through a control area without a guard, the corridors dark and quiet; an empty cell block. Passing through the halls, Padmé was reminded of the times where she'd been forced to escape from situations similar to this. She wouldn't have wished her worst enemy into one of these cells. Rounding a corner, they came to a high security cell that was generally used for dangerous persons or those of unexpectedly proficient and unexpected skills. Jedi counted on that number and Padmé's heart sank to her toes as she saw that the cell was not only active but occupied.

A figure lay slumped beside the small, floor anchored cot that was the only piece of furniture in the room. Their hair was dark and matted, visible even through the gloom of the cell. Their breathing was shallow and harsh, as if it hurt. And it may have. Even from her vantage point outside the ray shielded room, she could see tears in their shirt showed open sores and bloodied furrows on the skin beneath fabric that was dark with bodily fluids. She could only imagine the smell as the inmate shifted, a flash of light skin just below their shorts catching her eye. An involuntary gasp escaping her as she realized that the blackness of what she thought had been pants was, in reality, bruises and blood that covered their legs from mid-thigh down.

Her gasp caught the attention of the inmate and the man groaned, shifting, as if making to get up.

"Oh please, don't move," she couldn't help herself, stepping right up to the ray shield that prevented their escape, stopping just shy of putting her hands on it. "Please don't hurt your-"

The figure's head came around sharply and it was his eyes that prompted recognition.

"Max-!" Padmé's breath caught in her throat as she took in the beaten and bruised form before her, her eyes burning.

Max.

Max was here.

Max was...

Her gaze traveled over his injuries. One of his eyes was swollen almost shut, his nose broken and his jaw bruised. Visibly tortured despite the fact that someone appeared to have tried to clean him up, her gaze lingered on the polished white of his finger bones, which stuck out through the backs of his hands, surrounded in bloodied rings like gaudy decorations. Crippled, only his thumbs seem to have been spared.

Guilt swept through her with such an intensity it almost buckled her knees.

This was her doing.

Max had only become a target because of her.

"Padmé," his voice was reedy and raw; nothing like the teasing man who'd helped her build their successful Rebel cell.

"Max..." choking on her guilt, Padmé pressed her hands to the ray shield, knowing it was a futile attempt to reach him as the energy rippled and crackled under her touch. "What are you doing here?"

His laugh rattled in his lungs and made him cough. "I'm a prisoner, princess; what's it look like?"

"Not like... What did... your hands-"

"They alternated," he looked at them dispassionately, as if they belonged to someone else. "After the first couple, it was like it wasn't happening to me. I heard myself scream, saw the bones push through the skin..." he shrugged, wheezing, "Whatever cell they're keeping you in, it looks like your're being taken better care of."

"It's better appointed," she agreed, her heart in her throat. "Oh Max, I'm sorry; you shouldn't be here. This is my fault, all my fault. I'm sorry."

"At least you're not trying to run me over in the hallways," he coughed, blood flecking his lips. "Though, in retrospect, I'd welcome that now."

"Maybe I can get you out of here, maybe-"

"Cruel to the last, Padmé," he laughed weakly. "Hope? Here? No. Once I'm delivered to the Emperor, I'm a dead man. I've accepted it."

Padmé blinked. "To... the Emperor? Max, why would you be taken to the Emperor?"

"I always knew your husband was a man of power, sweetheart; I just never knew he was the man of power." His bark of laughter was self-depreciating and wry. "Some slicer I turned out to be."

"You think that the Emperor is my husband? Emperor Palpatine?"

"I don't blame you, Padmé; political matches can be difficult. I wouldn't want him anywhere near kids of mine either."

"Max, Palpatine's not... I'm not married to the Emperor, Max."

He wheezed a chuckled. "You still can't tell me the truth, even now?"

"I..." Padmé swallowed hard. "I'm not married to Palpatine, Max. That is the truth."

A low, charming laugh somewhere behind her alerted her to the fact that she and Max were no longer alone. Max flinched as Anakin stepped around the corner and into view. "Married to the Emperor? For such an intelligent man, you really are an idiot."

"Ana-"

Max flinched, shrinking back against the bunk. "Lord Vader."

He bowed with a flourish, his smile hard, and Padmé unconsciously stepped between him and Max protectively. Vader's eyes flashed as he noted her movement, but his attention remained on the prisoner. "At your service Komar Edge. Or should I call you Mefral Fabun. No? Perhaps Edoc Legule?"

Padmé watched him warily, uncertain of where this was going, but she could feel the tension in the room, so thick with confusion behind her, and malice before her, that it threatened to choke her. Anakin had taken the news of her and Max about as well as she'd expected him to. At the time she'd been grateful for his hurt; it had allowed her to keep distance between them. Now... now she regretted it. Max had been a solace once and she couldn't let him pay for her selfishness; he was still her friend.

"Anakin, please, let's go somewhere else and-"

"There's no need for that, Padmé." he finally focused on her, his smile charming, "Why don't you introduce me to the other man in your life? It seems he's a man of many names along with many talents."

"Anakin, he's injured; he needs medical attention."

"He'll be taken care of shortly," Anakin assured her pleasantly, so much so that it only reinforced the unease she was feeling. "Now; introduce us, Padmé."

"I don't-"

The blue gaze leveled on her was uncompromising and Padmé swallowed hard. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Max, my former financial analyst. Max, Anakin Skywalker; formerly the Hero with no fear."

Max flinched but didn't respond.

"Always so shy. There's no reason for that now, is there, Padmé?" Anakin's chuckle was dark as his tone was friendly. "We're all friends here. Why don't you try again, only properly this time."

Padmé met Anakin's gaze and realized what he was doing. "Anakin, please."

"Now, Padmé."

There no compromise in his tone and Padmé flinched even as she acknowledged that this was her responsibility. "If I do, you have to promise me he'll be taken care of; tended to. Properly."

"Of course."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Swallowing hard, Padmé turned back to Max. "Max, meet Anakin Skywalker; my... husband."

Max's eyes widened almost comically, a gasp and then a cough catching him as he doubled over, blood spattering the ground as he wheezed and struggled, his gaze never leaving hers. Betrayal was in those eyes; complete and utter. He couldn't speak, but he didn't need to as she read every condemnation, every regret, every accusation in their depths. Padmé stepped back, only to have Anakin slip his arm around her shoulders. His touch was strong and firm, but there was no comfort in it. She struggled, looking to break free, and Anakin only tightened his hold, his unspoken message clear.

"Him?" Max's choked accusation was layered with agonized betrayal. "You said he killed your husband!"

"From a certain point of view," Anakin agreed amicably before she could respond. "I ceased using the name Anakin Skywalker to be the day I became Darth Vader. In essence, I did kill him."

Padmé flinched. "Anakin, please, he needs medical attention."

"In a moment, Padmé. You see, Max led Asajj on a merry chase. You never told me he was so talented."

"How else would I have avoided detection for so long?" barely holding onto her temper, Padmé was determined to do nothing that would put his rage on the wounded, tortured man behind the ray shields. She hadn't been able to protect Max and, with how calm Anakin was being, especially with how hurt he'd been when he'd found out how she and Max had been lovers, the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. She didn't trust this charm; Anakin had never, even as a child, liked sharing her with others. "I had to have help, especially the technical help he could give me. I'm not stupid; I know my limits."

"Clearly not."

"I told you I had allies."

"And a lover," Anakin agreed smoothly, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes despite the conversational tone. "He's not what I expected."

"Anakin, please; he didn't know. Don't hurt him anymore."

"Begging, Padmé? For him?"

"If that's what it takes to get the medical attention he needs, yes! He was there for me, Anakin, when you weren't. When you'd turned your back on everything we had, Max was there. He helped me, can't you see that? It's because of him I was able to avoid capture; he protected me when you couldn't."

"Is that what you're calling it now?"

Glancing at Max, Padmé returned her gaze to Anakin quickly. "What else am I going to call it? Max was there for me while you were trying to burn the galaxy to the ground!"

"I thought you were dead, Padmé," his voice dropped to a hiss. "I was grieving."

"So what, the galaxy was just a bigger Tusken Raider Village?"

"They deserved it; for killing my mother." His eyes flashed a yellowish green before settling back into blue. "The galaxy kept me from you and then took you from me. They had to pay!"

"And now? I've been with you for months, Anakin; when does it stop?"

"It doesn't."

There was such a finality to his words that Padmé took a step back, the ray shield behind her crackling as she brushed it. "It has to end somewhere. People deserve their freedom; it's what we were fighting for all those years!"

"Freedom to do what, Padmé? To fight and kill one another in poverty? To rebuilt without support or direction? To take advantage of those less fortunate? Or is this about you?" Anakin stood his ground, crossing his arms over his chest, flicking his fingers at the man behind her. "What freedom did you want? The freedom to deny me? To adulter when it suits you?"

"That's not fair, Anakin!"

"No? How about you, Max?" His gaze passed her by. "Do you think that's a fair assessment? After all, she did take advantage of your trust."

"I'm not getting between you two again, man. I would never have-"

"I asked you a question," Vader lifted one hand and Max let out a yelp as his feet came off the floor. "And you owe me an answer, Max."

"Anakin, please-"

"Now."

"We always knew you were alive, sir," Max told him, his breathing shallow and laboured. "We hid her at her insistence, she said no one could know beyond those who already knew-"

"Not even her beloved husband."

"She insisted you were dead!"

"And that she remain that way."

"Yes!"

"Could you have brought her back from the dead?"

Nodding as he gasped for air, Max lifted his broken hands to his throat as if he couldn't breathe. "Y-ye-!"

Padmé lunged for Anakin as the slicer started turning blue, grabbing his outstretched forearm. "Let him go, Anakin; you promised me!"

Anakin looked straight at her and smiled boyishly. "As you wish."

There was a sickening sound of bone snapping and then a body hitting the ground behind her.

Silence reigned for what felt like an eternity as Padmé froze. Watching Anakin watching her, an easy smile on his lips as he brought his hand down to stroke her hair. Unable to step away, she saw him gently caress her hair, his smile taking on a smugly triumphant tilt. Feeling as if she wasn't in her body, as if everything in her wold had just shifted, she watched as if from another place outside of her body, the sounds around her muffled.

When he spoke, he broke the spell.

"No one touches what is mine and lives."

Padmé stepped away from him, turning disbelieving eyes to the body on the ground behind the ray shield. She swallowed hard, feeling the emptiness inside her grow, the tight band around her chest reminiscent of when she'd seen him on Mustafar before Luke and Leia had been born; before they'd been separated. She'd seen Anakin kill before, seen him protect her, but this... Max had been helpless, his only crime Max's body lay un-moving, a pool of fluid spreading out from the heap and she turned away to find Anakin watching her, his lips moving.

She hadn't heard him.

"What?"

"I said, I'm going to fix this but I need time, Padmé."

"Fix what?"

Max was dead; what was he talking about?

"This; us, your death."

She blinked at him, speechless. He'd changed gears so fast, her head was spinning.

He continued. "I want you standing beside me; I want to let you live freely."

"I don't-"

"I know, I know," he smiled eagerly at her, as if the body of the man he'd just executed wasn't cooling barely feet away, "I'm getting ahead of myself. Bringing you back needs to be done the right way; if we don't handle it carefully, your resurrection would be used as a rallying cry for the insurgents. You wouldn't be able to hold your seat as a senator, but as my wife you'd have the ear of the Emperor. I know why you didn't want to come back sooner, but once things are sorted with the Emperor, and you'd make a speech-"

Staring at him as he began to warm to his subject, she couldn't believe what she was hearing, what she'd just seen. As he spoke about her turning her back on every ideal that she'd ever stood for; easily, as if he didn't know her at all. Her Anakin would never, never, have asked her to betray her ideals and her principles simply to ensure her own survival. He'd accompanied her on too many missions and seen too many close calls to ever believe it was possible.

Death hadn't scared her if it meant that her death would upholds the precepts of truth and justice she'd held so dear.

Her heart crashed to her feet at how badly she had misjudged him; how badly he'd fooled her. She'd come to him through betrayal and, at some point, she'd lost sight of what he'd become and he'd done, turned to him of her own volition, willfully blind in her acceptance of his support. From the start, all she'd wanted was Luke and Leia and a small corner of the galaxy to call their own, where they could grow in peace as a family. The months leading up to their return from Dandoran had given her hope that Anakin had wanted the same; that he would leave the power behind and they would be a family. They'd stopped fighting and he'd pretended to be the man she'd once loved.

Only, Anakin had ceased to be.

In his place, corrupted and twisted by power and intention was Darth Vader. Vader, who had turned on the very order that had opened its doors and taken him in, providing shelter and training to a frightened boy they had doubts about training. Vader, who had gone searching for his mother and slaughtered a whole village of Tusken Raiders to the last child. Vader, who had fought his mentor, betrayed the very man who called him brother, and tried to kill him. Vader who had slaughtered Jedi younglings as easily as he'd just broken the neck of a man who had done nothing but offer her comfort after Vader's betrayal and abandonment.

Numbness invaded her limbs as she watched him animatedly going on about what needed to be done to bring her out of the shadows. The Anakin she remembered, the sweet young man with big dreams who had been her husband, was gone.

Oh Vader could pretend, had pretended, playing on her most precious memories. She'd come to him through betrayal and, at some point, she'd lost sight of what he'd become and he'd done, turned to him of her own volition, willfully blind in her acceptance of his support.

That charade was done.

He'd shown his true colors. Vader was a man who would do anything to achieve his goals so long as the things he deemed important were kept safe. He was a man who was so twisted by power he could no longer see that the ends didn't justify the means. He took what he wanted, uncaring of the cost to others so longer as he, or his Master, benefited. He was willing to betray everything to achieve it

She could see that now.

He remained an echo in the animation of Vader's features, the color of Vader's eyes and the cadence of the Sith Lord's speech, but Vader was not Anakin. He had been, once, but no longer. If Anakin was still inside him, and he had to be somewhere for Vader to have fooled her so utterly, he was but a tiny fraction of the man before her and buried so deep that Padmé had failed to reach him. Vader had absorbed him so completely, twisted his perception of her into an unimaginable perversion of his memories.

She'd been right all those months ago. Vader had killed her husband. He'd been lying to her for months and she'd willingly been blinded.

No more.

Never again would she be oblivious to the cruelty and cunning hidden beneath his handsome features and charming manners. Padmé knew she was stronger than that, stronger than when she'd first come to him and, despite his lies and elaborate deception, she was in a better place mentally, and more determined than ever to fight for her freedom. Once she had it, she'd resume her search for Luke and Leia.

Vader was in for a shock if he thought she was simply going to quietly accept his plans for her.

Vader's satisfaction at having broken the neck, and potentially several other bones in the body of the man who had once possessed what was his gave him a calm and a peace he hadn't known since Padmé had resumed eating and settled into her new life with him. It would be time for the next steps, as he'd explained, shortly, but first, he needed her to understand exactly what she'd need to do if there was any hope of having his Master call off the bounty on her head and welcome her openly. Vader was confident his Master would welcome his fellow Nabooian back into the fold as soon as she denounced the Rebels publicly and set her support firmly behind him.

"Once we've gotten back to Coruscant, I'll need to -"

"You killed him."

Vader stopped talking as she interrupted him and frowned. "You asked me to take care of him, Padmé."

"That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Asking someone to take care of another individual is well known among the underworld, a place you've spent the last two years, as a signal to eliminate them," he reasoned with a half smile, trying to charm her to his way of thinking. "I only did as you asked."

"You killed him!" Her hands slapped against his chest and pushed, wiping the smile off his face. "He needed medical attention and time in a bacta tank."

"He was beyond saving, I did him a mercy."

"If that's what you have to tell yourself to sleep tonight, at least one of us will know you for the murderer you are."

She wasn't exactly wrong, but he hadn't expected her to react so forcefully to the Slicer's death. He'd been making a point; a point she seemed to have missed. "No one touches you but me, Padmé." his hands slid around hers and pressed them tightly to his chest as he leaned towards her, his tone holding every ounce of possessiveness he felt towards her. "I'm your husband and you're my wife; that makes you mine."

"That's what you think, Vader."

"Vader." He frowned, eyes narrowing, unease creeping into his sense of well being. "You never call me Vader."

"I'll never call you anything else ever again," her eyes flashed as she made the promise, conviction in every syllable she spoke and every line of her posture.

"No." Vader shook his head, feeling the progress he'd made slipping away; when she called him Anakin, or any variant there of, Padmé was happier. And if it made her happy, if it gave her the link she needed to reminder her of who he'd been and was still, in a small way, he wanted her to use it. "No. I want you to call me, Anakin, you hear me?"

"You don't deserve to have that name," she snapped back, forcefully dragging her hands from under his and stepping back. "Like you said, you stopped being Anakin Skywalker the day you became Darth Vader."

That wasn't the information he'd wanted her to take away from his discussion with the slicer. "Enough. We're headed for Coruscant and I intend to see that you're restored to your rightful place at my side, Padmé."

"Over my dead body." Seething she stepped widely around him. "If you think I would ever turn my back on the ideals that we fought so hard for just because you want me to, you never knew me at all."

"We have to stop at the shipyard on Gwori first." Revealing that little fact wouldn't endanger anything he had set in motion and he'd learned over the last few months that she could be placated with bits of information to make her more receptive. "By the time we get to Coruscant, you'll see things my way."

"Keep dreaming," she told him fiercely. "Never again, Vader. Never, you hear me?"

His eyes narrowed. "Never is a long time."

"Not long enough."