Luke's second day of actually acting as a senator was as confusing, though thankfully much duller, than the first. He was awake at the crack of dawn as always—or, what would be the crack of dawn if Coruscant was a planet with a normal, organic climate—and this time Sabé barely blinked when she found him already hard at work when she rose.

"What time does the Senate meet?" she asked, knocking at the door to the office in his senatorial apartments before speaking.

He barely glanced up. This office was far more comfortable than the one assigned to him in the Senate itself. "Oh-nine-hundred. I have a hour and a half of research time before then." He'd already spent a good hour of the morning agonising over another letter to Tatooine that wouldn't garner a response.

"I hate the Senate. Why are they so monotonous? So… sedentary?"

"I can run around with a blaster if that would make you feel better."

Sabé winced slightly. "It wouldn't. But I can't wait to get back to Naboo again." She was clearly steering the conversation away from that horrible image.

"It's only a few weeks before the Festival of Light," Luke said. "It would be terrible form to miss that."

"I'm looking forward to it. It's worth savouring, even if the reason for it is rather," she glanced around their quarters warily, before creasing her brow, "pointless now."

"The Naboo are nothing if not a people of tradition."

Sabé ignored the tension in his voice. "What are you researching?"

"The bills about to be proposed. The briefings about them were sent around this morning." He tapped his stylus against the screen on his datapad. "Senator Orn Free Taa has yet another bill about increasing senators' influence over their own homeworlds."

"I never listen to him. He's been pushing for his own power longer than you've been alive. Are there any bills you think are important?"

He smiled to himself. "Honestly? Yeah. Senator Leia Organa is trying to set up an independent judiciary."

Sabé raised her eyebrows. "Is she insane?"

"Her proposal is sound."

"She's gonna get herself removed from office."

Luke didn't know whether that referred to autocracy imitating democratic overturn or something far more sinister. "I like her proposal. An independent judiciary would do what Amidala talks about in every one of her speeches—eliminate corruption, prevent meddling for independent good."

"And it's more democratic?" Sabé asked.

"That too, but that won't convince the Empress."

"Nothing will." Sabé glanced over Luke's shoulder to skim through Organa's proposal. "It is sound, and I would support it in any other circumstance. But this is reckless and dangerous of that girl to propose. It makes me nervous." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Ninety-nine of one hundred days in the Senate are dull as blank flimsi. Why does your first one have to bring this up?"

"The universe likes keeping you on your toes," Luke quipped, but flicked to the next report on today's agenda. He was planning something with Organa's proposal, but he didn't want to give his aunt a heart attack first thing in the morning.

"It certainly feels like it sometimes. Leia is good at that, too."

"I meant to ask," Luke said conversationally, "don't you know her?"

It was a loaded question. Sabé had worked with Amidala. She had worked with other senators. And in the years while he was still growing up on Tatooine, far away from Naboo and its tricky place in galactic politics, she'd worked with a string of clients who would never be named but always reeked of excitement.

Excitement, to a twelve-year-old, of course meaning espionage. Nobility. Adventure in the name of justice.

To twelve-year-old Luke, Aunt Sabé had been the coolest person he'd ever met.

"I have," she said. "I know her father well. He organised the Rim Relief Movement, which of course I worked with you in."

"You knew him before that, though?"

"Other mercy missions. He runs a lot, and you know how Naboo likes being plugged into them."

Luke nodded. That made sense, but he crossed his arms. "You're not telling me the whole truth, auntie."

Sabé huffed. "Don't be that blunt on the Senate floor today, I beg you. It got you kicked off Naboo and sent into this mess. Shiraya only knows where you'd end up if you got kicked out of here too."

"You're still avoiding the question."

She turned on her heel. "I need to scan the apartments for bugs."

"Auntie."

"You can't take security too seriously."

"Tonra already did that. If you want me to stop asking, I will, but don't dodge."

Sabé broke herself off when she reached the doorway. "Fine. I'll admit. It's classified." A small smile was playing about her lips. "But I'm serious, Luke. Save your interrogations for the Senate and be more careful about them."

"I know. I just know I don't need to be as careful with you." He smiled. "You tell me the truth and tell me when you can't."

She nodded, her smile falling a little, and ducked out of the room.

Despite the immense amount of preparatory work he had done, stepping into the Senate chamber itself was still an overwhelming experience. The pod for the Naboo delegation was closer to the top of the Senate chamber than the bottom, so at least he had a halfway decent view of the chaos. He made sure to get there on time, so was seated and prepared long before the other senators filed in, almost lazily, to take their seats. The datapad, screen, and voting mechanism in his pod were self-explanatory, as were the pod controls. Luke was tempted to grab the controls and give it a spin himself before too many people came in, but he restrained himself. That would be unprofessional.

At 0900 to the second, the floor so far below opened up in a starburst, folding from the imperial cog into a flower as slats opened and the Empress's pod rose on its pedestal to the centre of the room.

Amidala was seated, her off-the-shoulder dress and cape orange-red and bright as a flame, with a towering hairpiece that must be a wig threaded with shimmering topaz to match. That cone of hair made her almost as tall sitting down as Pooja standing beside her, but if Luke noticed Vader, he dwarfed her.

If he noticed Vader. The pod was draped in dark velvet, all the better to be an unassuming background to the sparkling empress, and Vader vanished into its folds.

Pooja saw him looking and gave him an encouraging smile. Luke heard Sabé mutter something behind him and turned to her—turned to ask what her problem was—before thinking better of it. If Aunt Sabé's bitterness bubbled to the fore here, more than he'd ever seen her express before, there must be a reason. There would be better locations and times to discuss it.

It was only because Luke knew Pooja so well that he recognised the distaste in her eyes when she glanced at the itinerary for the day. Amidala's features were calm and unbothered, and she studied the schedule with the same focused interest she applied to everything she did. That didn't mean Luke couldn't tell she too was slightly annoyed.

Unsurprising. Who Organa had had to bribe so that her proposal would be the first on the agenda, Luke didn't know, but Her Imperial Majesty likely wasn't thrilled.

She cleared her throat, the microphone picking up every twitch of her vocal chords, and began with the usual pleasantries. The two-minute speech was droll, intended to buy time as senators shifted into presentation mode. Pooja had confided in him last night that the speech rarely varied from a handful of key topics, designed to be boring, but was much shorter than Palpatine's customary fifteen-minute drawl. Empress Amidala, ever in search of efficiency and efficacy, had whittled the pleasantries down without losing the flair every ruler needed.

According to Pooja.

"The first item on our agenda today," Amidala called out, her voice strong and clear. "Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan had a structural proposition to make: the formation of a new judiciary, independent from the current courts and the Senate's influence."

Grumblings immediately broke out, but Luke watched as Organa's pod ejected from its cluster in the wall to hover closer to the centre, where all could see her. She was as small as Pooja, if not more so, and very simply dressed in her plain white gown. The Naboo were peacocks beside Alderaanians, it seemed.

"Honoured delegates of the Senate," she began. "As the Senator of Alderaan, my proposal comes from a love for this Empire and a desire to make it stronger. Alderaan is a vital world of beauty and culture, and I know that thousands of other systems look to us as a trailblazer for everything—from having a good quality of life, to justice."

Her pod wobbled in mid-air, slightly. If that was done for effect or because she was growing too caught in her speech, Luke couldn't tell.

"As ancient and deserved as our reputation is, the Empire's reputation has far outstripped our own in the last fifteen years," she continued. "The stability brought by Empress Amidala's reign, and the prosperity that has blossomed because of it, cannot be overlooked or taken lightly. We have achieved this in such a short time, senators, and we have improved the lives of billions as a result. However, there is always more to do. Always further to push, until we can reach the stars."

She waved a hand. Luke's screen lit up and he glanced down, scanning the reports and figures that appeared there. "On your screens are recent concerning statistics surrounding the courts and the judges that preside over them. As you can see, from the farthest reaches of this Empire to trials carried out on Coruscant itself, the conclusions reached by the courts are suspect. They would not meet the anti-corruption standards imposed by the Republic thirty years ago."

Gasps of outrage erupted. "—you mean to imply—"

"—dare you compare the Empire to such a bloated—"

"—do you accuse—"

"—corruption—"

She sat out the shouting until the last one sounded, then jabbed a finger in that direction.

"Corruption!" she declared. "The number one enemy of this body, and yet we allow our courts to be subject to political influence! High-ranking military officers bribe their way to freedom despite ghastly war crimes, enemies made through petty squabbles are executed for the most arbitrary of offences—"

"Do you fear a just court because of your own illegal doings, Princess?"

Whoever jeered that, she ignored them. "—this is a disgrace to the Empress's vision and a disgrace to this system we have worked so hard to build. To truly move forward and achieve the vision of a just society, free from corruption, we must make the courts independent! Independent from economic influence. Independent from individual influence. And independent from political influence."

Fury. Luke was nearly bowled over by the strength of it in this chamber.

She finished valiantly, "This bill I have brought forth, which I'm sure all of you have reviewed, is the best means of using the foundation we have built to create something true."

The shouts were overwhelming. One of Amidala's handmaidens—a woman slightly younger than her, with a Naboo accent and light brown hair—shouted "Order!"

Amidala switched on her microphone and said, "The foundation I have built."

The shouting ceased.

"Your arguments and your spirit are commendable, Princess," she continued. "But you are young, and this proposal shows it. You were not here with us when we were developing the foundation you claim to prize so highly. And perhaps I can therefore chalk up to naiveté the fact that your proposal would not build upon it, but destabilise it to its core."

"Senator," Organa corrected her. "I beg to disagree, Your Majesty. Despite the narrative of increased accountability, security, and justice, corruption in the courts is far rifer than it was thirty years ago. My research shows this. It is not naiveté I speak from. It is the truth."

"I had hoped this was not as grave an insult as it first appeared, but it seems my initial suspicions are correct." Amidala's voice hardened. "Nostalgia is a tempting beast for the young and privileged, but I urge you to look past your father's rosy descriptions of the dying Republic and its glossy flaws. Do you accuse my courts of being more corrupt now than when they acquitted of any crime Nute Gunray, known warmonger, murderer, war criminal, and Separatist, no less than four times?"

Luke winced. As a Naboo citizen, the comparison cut him to the core.

Organa did not yield. "I do," she said. "As evidenced by the fact Lord Vader still stands at your side, free and untrialled, despite four dozen accusations of war crimes during his Outer Rim Project. Holographic evidence, records, and eyewitness testimony support these claims. That Lord Vader has not yet been asked to stand trial for his actions, let alone been convicted, betrays the corruption we would like to pretend is not present."

And as a child of Tatooine, that cut Luke even deeper. Before he could register what he was doing, he had hit the button indicating he wished to speak.

Sabé led out a strangled noise behind him. "Luke—"

"Your accusations against my husband are as distasteful as they are ill-suited to this discussion. If you are so intent on raising them, I recommend you raise them in the courts you wish for them to be addressed in." Pooja murmured in Amidala's ear and her face perked up momentarily. "The Senator for Naboo will be allowed to speak."

Luke did not look at his cousin and aunt as he carefully steered his pod forwards—the stabilisers were magical, there was nary a wobble to be felt—and mulled over his words. Instead, he kept his eyes on Organa. Her face had fallen at the name Naboo, her lip twitching into a faint scowl, and when she turned her gaze to watch him speak, it was with defiance.

Finally, Luke turned to Padmé. "Your Majesty, I would respectfully object that youth is not synonymous with naiveté, though such a fallacy is understandable." Another strangled noise from Sabé, who was trying to keep her head down. But when Luke glanced back at Organa, she was no longer looking at him—she was looking at Sabé, with dawning recognition. "Nor is experience an excuse for ignorance and complacency.

"Organa is a respected member of the Senate—her research into court corruption should be recognised, analysed, and acknowledged. These statistics are concerning. I propose a full inquest into this issue, to determine how we should proceed and what steps we should take. Perhaps, as radical as it sounds, an independent judiciary may not seem so abhorrent a solution if the situation is revealed to be as dire as Organa clearly believes."

Now for the hard part. He looked at Vader. Vader was looking back—had been this whole session, he thought, though he could not see his eyes—and his gaze was intense.

Its intensity only grew when Luke accused him of war crimes.

"And I also second her point about Lord Vader. Though a highly respected and respectable man, these… allegations…" He got the word out through gritted teeth. His scar stung. "…are blemishes to his reputation. The only way for such a thing to be cleared is for my lord to be declared and proven innocent in a just court of law. Thus far, this has not happened."

He finished on a slightly weaker voice, colour flooding his cheeks under his thick makeup, but he felt it was a strong contribution, nonetheless. With a respectful nod, he seated himself, and they retreated back into the cluster of other senators who were now staring at the new boy with everything from suspicion to confusion to awe.

Amidala did not look shaken: her eyebrows were faintly raised, her lips faintly curved. She inclined her head. "Thank you for your contribution, Senator Naberrie. And for, albeit unwittingly, demonstrating my point." She spread her arms. "Two young, highly passionate senators, willing to take on anything to improve the system, but you have both missed one key thing. The courts cannot be independent. They must be held accountable." She swept her spread arms to encompass the chamber. "And who else must keep them accountable but the noble delegates of this chamber, representing the galaxy which the court serves?"

Luke clenched his jaw. Sabé hissed through her teeth.

Organa took the initiative. "As Senator Naberrie suggested, however, my data shows that an inquest into the behaviour of the courts is still necessary. I second his motion to create a committee to investigate this."

Committee to investigate this. Luke winced. That sounded dangerously like the bureaucratic democracy Amidala had built her campaign against.

Nevertheless, the Empress inclined her head. "Then, unless there are any objections, I shall grant yourself and Senator Naberrie leave to form such a committee, under the supervision of one of my aides. You will have two standard months to produce results."

"We will need longer. Such a project is far reaching."

"I did not specify end results. But I want evidence that this is not a waste of time."

"And Lord Vader?" Organa pushed. "As Naberrie said, is he willing to submit himself to the courts to erase the stain on his reputation caused by these accusations?"

Amidala paused, glancing at her husband. Vader said nothing. He was still staring at Luke, who was trying not to scream from the stress of it.

"That will be determined by the results of your inquest," she decided. "Until we are certain that justice will be carried out, I am suspending important cases from being heard. The risk for the outcome is too great."

Sabé scoffed. Luke ground his teeth, but nodded when she looked at him, then shared a glance with Organa. Her brow was furrowed.

But there was no more time to dwell on it. Amidala glanced back down at her itinerary and moved on. "The next item on the agenda is Senator Tural's proposal for a new law enhancing the production…"

"Are you insane?" Sabé spat at Luke as Senator Tural took to the floor to explain more about the economics of permacrete.

"Only a little."

Sabé huffed a laugh. She looked like she'd aged five years in five minutes. "Warn me next time?" she asked and massaged her temples.

The rest of the Senate was mostly tedious, occasionally exciting, but by the time a heated debate about the taxation of a new hyperspace trade route was adjourned for the night, Luke felt he had learned a great deal. Sabé stopped shooting him angry looks after about an hour and relaxed as well—she even dozed off at one point, which he empathised with. All in all, it had been a good day.

He took longer than most other senators in packing up his things, trying to go over the notes he'd made to check for any last-minute revisions. So, when he stepped out of his pod, Sabé was already outside—and in friendly conversation with Senator Organa.

Luke paused when he saw her. She was slightly shorter than him, her posture and intensity even fiercer when seen up close. She caught his gaze in the middle of a comment to Sabé about Alderaan's landscapes, then turned to Luke.

"Senator Naberrie. You're not what I expected." She studied him closely. "You diminished my proposal into a committee."

At least she was honest about why she was annoyed at him. "I saved your proposal from being tossed out altogether," he countered.

She scoffed but didn't look sceptical. "Sabé tells me you're not much like your sister."

"We do have our similarities."

"I didn't doubt it." Her eyebrows were slightly raised, still, as she looked him up and down again. "Why did you get yourself involved?"

Her bluntness was refreshing. "Because I looked over your proposal this morning and I support it. Your research is concerning. But it was clear that the Empress would never allow for an independent judiciary as you suggested it, and I didn't want to see the whole issue dismissed."

"So, your interjection was that thought out?"

"No," he admitted. "I was winging it."

Sabé let out a soft, anguished noise. "You did that to me without a plan?"

Luke shot her an apologetic look. "If I'd had a plan I would have told you it." He said to Leia, "You invoked Tatooine. I'm passionate about that."

"I invoked Vader and the Outer Rim Project."

"My first thought when I hear about that project is what it did to Tatooine."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Turned the planet half to glass, I hear." Her gaze was unsettling, like she could see right through him. "Most people in the Senate—most people from the Mid Rim and Corewards—don't pay attention to any of that."

"Most people," he agreed. "Not everyone." He looked between them. "Is that how you know Aunt Sabé?" Sabé rolled her eyes at the blatant attempt to see if Organa's story matched her own.

It did. "Mercy missions," Organa said, and unlike with Sabé, that seemed to be the whole truth of it. "I understand you've been involved in a few yourself?"

"Mostly ones local to the Chommell sector and nearby systems, but as many as I can."

"The famine on Karlinus?"

He grimaced. "That was hard—we import a great deal of our food from there, there were concerns about famine back home. But Queen Dalrana's isolationist policies meant we had enough independent agriculture to feed ourselves while sharing."

"Ah. Queen Dalrana. Of course." Organa nodded and glanced around. "I'd love to discuss this—and Naboo—in more detail. Would you please visit me in my office later?"

With that, her directness was shuttered behind something subtler. Luke was fairly sure he was being invited to an interview of some kind. Hopefully, she'd be blunter if they were in private.

"We need to meet sometime soon to organise the committee. I would be honoured."

"Yes. The committee." Her face grew graver, her stare harder, as she nodded. "I have more research than I put into the proposal file—I'll forward you everything I have for you to pick through. We'll need to compare legal definitions of corruption and how the court laws have changed—"

"Luke!"

Organa stopped in her action plan, and Luke was so caught up in listening to her that it took a moment to process that Pooja had now joined them in the corridor, her dark red robes almost blending into the crisscross pattern of the carpet. She offered Organa a smile that was more a baring of teeth, then softened it when she turned to him.

"I've been assigned to help you with the committee," she said smoothly. "I noticed that you were all here and just came over to get a head start on how we want to go about this?"

She was lying, but Luke let it slide. "Of course. You've got perfect timing, Pooja, Senator Organa and I were just beginning to discuss that. She'll send us the full extent of her research today, then we were planning on meeting to lay the groundwork and establish what methods we will use later. When do you think you'll be free?"

"You and Princess Leia are certainly efficient," she said. Luke didn't miss the twitch of irritation from Organa, and Luke didn't hide his. He raised his eyebrows, willing her to get to the point; she got the hint. "I'm unfortunately busy for the rest of the day and have to accompany the Empress in numerous meetings tomorrow. But for the day after, I can adapt to your schedule."

"Excellent." He turned to Organa. "I can note more specific availability at the same time you send us the research—it will depend on how much reading needs to be done."

"Then I'll keep my schedule clear. Miss Naberrie." She didn't bother masking the coldness in her voice. Pooja pursed her lips. "Senator Naberrie." She inclined her head to Luke. "I look forward to continuing our conversation."

"Likewise, Senator," Luke said, and made sure his smile was warm.

Hers was too as she turned away and retreated down the hallway, her plain-clothed guard at her side.

"Why don't you go with her and catch up, Sabé?" Pooja said sweetly. "I need to discuss something with Luke."

Sabé squinted and glanced at Luke, who nonetheless sighed and nodded for her to go. Pooja wouldn't let up until she'd talked to him in private. So Sabé turned away and jogged to catch up with Organa.

The moment she was out of sight, Pooja pulled at Luke's wrist and ducked back into the Naboo pod. The Senate chamber was empty by now, but even if it hadn't been, the shape of the pod and the shields surrounding it kept all noise within itself. Pooja tapped at the controls with the confidence of several years of service and sent them soaring into the middle of the room.

Luke yanked his arm free and shook it. "Why were you so rude to Senator Organa? What are you doing?" He tried not to look down at the gaping cavern of the chamber below him.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "What you said in the session this morning was tantamount to treason."

"Was it?" He knew what she meant, but he challenged, "Nothing I said was wrong. Nor anything Senator Organa said. An independent judiciary is necessary for justice to be carried out. That's what the Empire is for, isn't it?"

"Don't play demon's advocate with me, Luke. You know full well that the pandering to democracy that happens on Naboo is not acceptable here. I don't want you hurt."

"By whom? The Empress?"

"Luke?" Her strangled plea choked to death. "How dare you?"

"She's got the most power. I don't have time for vague warnings, Pooja."

"Of course not the Empress. She likes you. She tolerated your dissent today and told you why you're wrong—and you know why you're wrong, now. You just need to come to terms with it." Luke didn't bother contradicting her. If that was how Amidala had twisted Pooja from a champion of democracy to a pawn of autocracy, it wouldn't happen to Luke. "But there are fanatics loyal to the Empire, Luke. And if you seem to be questioning its foundation, you put yourself in danger from them. You could be accused of being in the Rebellion."

"I'm not a Rebel."

"I know that! And so does Her Majesty. But if you are accused that may not help in court."

"I thought the entire conversation today was about how it would. And has, historically."

Pooja closed her eyes. "That's the other point. You openly accused Lord Vader of war crimes."

"We pointed out that there were accusations of war crimes and that it is only just to hear them out. I don't wish for Lord Vader to be condemned. But justice—an ideal that Empress Amidala runs her empire on—should prevail."

"Your words were still treasonous!"

"I didn't accuse Lord Vader of war crimes, Pooja," Luke repeated. He let his voice turn harsh. She took a step back in the pod; he didn't use that tone often. "And I could've. But I didn't."

Pooja's gaze flicked to his left cheek and back to his eyes.

"Alright," she said. "I know the Empire isn't perfect."

"Nothing is. I wasn't aware it was a crime to be passionate about improving it. The galaxy deserves better than this."

"I'm worried that you're bringing expectations of how democracies should work into this totally different system. I don't want you to get burned." She winced at her own choice of words.

"I know what the Empire is and what it isn't, Pooja. Can you say the same?"

The part of him that missed his big sister, and missed having a family that was whole, hoped desperately for an answer that was self-aware.

"Of course I do," Pooja said. "I work for the Empress."

Luke swallowed.

"Look, I appreciate that you're trying to look out for me," he said gently. "I do. But I am a politician. I'm not going into this blind."

"When did that happen?" she asked. "I'd have thought you'd hate this."

She didn't say that she'd also thought he'd be awful, and that she still thought that, but he didn't call her out on that.

"I'm not a fan of the lying," he admitted.

"I've noticed that."

"Or taking three sentences to say one thing."

"You're better at that than you are at lying."

"I want to help people, Pooja," he said. "That's why I ran for Prince of Theed. That's why I'm here. I've been given a second chance in life—how many second chances can I give to others?"

"You got kicked off Naboo because you were too disruptive, didn't you?" She ruffled his hair. "You're an idealist."

She dropped her hand from his hair, and he caught it, giving it a squeeze. That seemed too much for her: she surged forwards and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his. Luke screwed his eyes shut as he hugged her back. Tears leaked out anyway.

He'd missed his sister. He'd missed her so much.

"You remind me of Aunt Padmé in that regard," she said.

He kept holding her. But the light, airy feeling was left curdled and sour in his gut.

"Promise me you'll be careful?" she whispered. "Princess Leia is under surveillance for Rebel ties." He stiffened; she felt it. "Don't tell anyone—you're not supposed to know—but if you get too close… We'll work with her on this committee, but you have to be careful."

"I'm always careful." He missed the note of teasing he meant to interject, too bitter to really mean it.

Pooja didn't reply. Just let go of him, kissed him on the cheek, and steered them back to dock the pod. They disembarked in silence, and Luke felt the distance between Coruscant and Naboo—between Pooja and him—more keenly than ever before.

Between all the many systems it held, Vader's suit bled heat. Padmé liked leaning against him on the sofa in the evenings when she was doing some last-minute reviews of the day. It was nice to be directly against him when he was meditating. He tended to make his surroundings cold, which meant his embrace was all the cosier.

"Permacrete, hyperspace taxation, interplanetary transportation…" She sighed. "They're important, but nothing today could quite transcend the first debate."

"Organa is as foolish as her father was. Pay her no heed."

Padmé glanced up at her husband, a smile playing about her lips. "I don't. She doesn't have the votes or the voice to make anything more than surface ripples. I'm merely concerned about her dragging my nephew down the path of foolishness with her."

"He was eloquent," was all Vader allowed.

"They both demanded you stand trial for war crimes."

"Which I shall not, so their pleas were useless. But Naberrie's came from a sensible place."

"I feel there was more to it than the reason he gave about your image," Padmé pointed out, amused at his sudden interest in politics.

"Indeed. He radiated anger. But at least he seemed interested in justice for what I have done, rather than using me to undermine you."

"And you're alright with that?"

"Of course."

She chuckled to herself and laid her head on his shoulder. "You never cease to amaze me." His right hand settled on her left and stroked the back of her knuckles.

A soft chime heralded Pooja's presence at the door. Padmé called, "Come in," and her niece entered. If Vader stiffened under Padmé's head, she ignored him.

Padmé smiled to her as she handed her the datapad—that was her cue for the end of the workday. "Thank you, Pooja. Take this to my office and make sure things are in order for tomorrow morning, and that's all I'll need from you tonight."

"Of course, my lady." But Pooja hesitated before leaving.

"Be gone," Vader said. She flinched at the harsh tone; Padmé gave her husband a stern look. He did not grow any less tense. "You have been dismissed."

"What is it, Pooja?" she asked gently.

Pooja clutched the datapad. "I wanted to apologise for my brother," she said. "I've spoken with him—made sure he understands how dangerous his words were even if he didn't intend them to be. They came from a good place."

"Don't worry, Pooja, I understand. Idealism is exactly what we need. If your brother's brand is clumsier than we are accustomed to in the Imperial Senate, he will soon adapt. He seems an intelligent man. You don't need to make excuses for him." She added, not seeing her niece relax, "But I accept them."

Pooja nodded and let out a sigh. "I'm glad. I know he means well."

"That much is clear. You should invite him round for tea, tomorrow. It would be wonderful to meet him in a more informal setting. Otherwise, I look forward to what you and he will produce on this committee."

Pooja pointedly didn't look towards Vader. "Yes, my lady. I'll invite him"—her face lit up as she considered it—"I think tea with him would be wonderful. And I will make sure that Organa doesn't corrupt our work with her foolishness."

"Good. I knew I could rely on you." She smiled. "Was there anything else?"

"No, my lady." She bobbed her head.

"Then leave," Vader told her.

Pooja looked to Padmé. "You're dismissed, Pooja. Make sure you get some sleep."

"I will, my lady." She slipped out of the door, casting Vader anxious glances on her way out. Padmé waited until she was gone to turn on her husband.

"Why must you be so rude to my handmaiden?" Her tone was teasing, but there was still an edge to it. "She serves me well."

Vader stiffened under her tone, but bit out, "She is too close. Too intimate. You would not have Dormé interrupt us so needlessly."

"You're bothered by the interruption? You only needed to say—"

"She is presumptuous. She always has been. One would think she was your daughter, from how— from how she expects to be treated."

He tried to hide his slip, but Padmé caught it. "From how I treat her, you mean?"

For a moment, he was quiet. "She is not our daughter. She is too close."

"She is my niece."

"She is still your sister's child. Not ours."

"I want a family, Anakin. If that means connecting with my extended family, so be it. What problem is there?" It hit her after a moment. "You think I'm replacing them?"

Vader stared at her. She stared back. "She is not our child."

"Our child is dead, Anakin! They have been for two decades."

"We do not know that," he pushed. "The Jedi—"

"Are dead. You made sure of that—you tracked down and killed Yoda yourself." Because he'd thought that he was following Kenobi's trail, not Yoda's, but she ignored that point. "If our child survived, we would have found them by now." She threw herself to her feet, suddenly unable to bear contact with him. "They are dead. Why can't you accept that? Why must you always refuse to move on?"

He knew how much she had wanted to be a mother. He knew that even after the loss of their child, she had looked into adoption, IVF, ways of having a child with him that Mustafar hadn't excluded. But he had always refused to give her that dream.

His stupid, foolish, desperate hopes—

"He might not be," Vader insisted. She didn't turn to look, but she felt sure he had reached for her.

"Our child is dead," she said at least. It never got any easier to say, despite how often she had to do so. "How dare you attack me for building a family in the only way I can?"