CHAPTER FOUR
"Leave your cloak onboard," Anakin called to Danaé down the hallway of the Lady Vader. "We may not be here very long, depending on what they've found while we were in hyperspace." He didn't really expect any results yet, but he was trying to be optimistic.
His daughter clipped her lightsaber to her belt as she joined him at the top of the boarding ramp. "Ready," she smiled.
Waiting for them a short distance away from the starship was Admiral Mirkalla. Anakin thought the man had aged well since he last had seen him. He stretched out his feelings in the Force and perceived the commanding officer to be calm and poised. It was very reassuring. "It's been a while, Admiral," he said in greeting, striding forward to shake the man's hand.
"Yes it has, Master Skywalker," Mirkalla nodded. He immediately noticed the tall Padawan learner hanging back a few paces behind the Jedi Master. "And this must be your daughter?" The physical resemblance between Anakin and the young woman was uncanny; were they not so plainly a generation apart in age, he might have thought they were twins.
"It is that obvious?" Anakin laughed. "Admiral, meet my daughter Danaé Skywalker." He waved her forward. "Danaé, I'd like to introduce you to Admiral Mirkalla. He and I have served together in the past."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Danaé bowed respectfully and shook his hand.
"The pleasure is all mine," Mirkalla insisted. "The more Skywalkers we have on hand, the better."
Anakin glanced at the admiral with a look of concern, wondering if the news had gotten worse. "What is the latest word from the reconnaissance team?"
"We're minimizing transmissions to ensure they can't be easily detected. They report in every four hours." Mirkalla began to lead the pair of tan-robed Jedi toward the rear of the docking bay. "The last one was half an hour ago. Captain Solo advised that they have narrowed the search area considerably, but they've yet to locate the frigate."
"The Vyhrragians are being quite disciplined," Anakin nodded. "I didn't really expect to you say anything different." He paused, casting his gaze around the enormous docking bay. "When is the corvette from Naboo expected?"
"Any time now," Mirkalla answered. "Certainly before the next scheduled report from the team. That little transport your wife is on has an old hyperdrive; it's practically obsolete. Not like the one on your ship," he chuckled. "You made it here all the way from Coruscant in the time it's taken them to travel from Naboo."
Anakin smiled broadly. Very subtly his shoulders straightened up and his chest puffed out. "Not many starships in the galaxy can compete with mine, Admiral."
---
The young Twi'lek secretary stared at the pair of female humans standing patiently in the lavishly appointed waiting room of the Office of the Sergeant-at-Arms in the Galactic Senate building. The older woman, probably in her mid-forties, wore a finely tailored royal blue formal gown. Her dark brown hair, solid gray at the temples with streaks throughout, was swept up in a seashell spiral at the back of her head. The teenaged girl, probably her daughter, was dressed in an understated powder blue dress and had a long braid of light brown hair.
The secretary's lekku twitched in consternation. The Sergeant-at-Arms was on his way to greet them personally. He never did that for anyone, including newly elected Senators. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out who this woman was.
Just then her boss burst through the open doorway and rushed forward to the pair. "Senator Bellion? Is it really you?" The white-haired elderly man clasped the older woman into a tight embrace.
"Yes, Richon, it's me," Sabé admitted with a bit of embarrassment. "And it's former Senator Bellion, thank you very much." She indicated the girl to her right. "You remember my daughter Nalé?"
"Yes, of course. You certainly have grown, my dear." When Nalé blushed and looked down at the floor, he turned back to her mother. "You know what I say," the Sergeant-at-Arms teased, "once a Senator, always a Senator."
Sabé shook her head and chuckled. "Well, I'm not here as a Senator. Not really." She opened a small portfolio in her hand and withdrew a single durasheet document. It was embossed with multiple formal seals and written in elaborate script. "Here are the credentials," she sighed. "I have agreed to stand in for Leia Organa in the Naboo delegation until she returns to Coruscant."
The old man nodded solemnly. "I do hope she is released or rescued soon," he frowned. "I'm becoming almost as fond of her as I am of you." He slid the durasheet into his own portfolio, then passed two identification badges and access cards to Sabé. "You're cleared and ready."
Sabé nodded. "They're debating her capture now, aren't they? I'd better get to the chamber right away."
"Yes, they are. Would you like me to walk to you over?"
"No need," she winked. "I remember the way."
With that, she and her old friend embraced briefly again before Sabé and Nalé bid farewell to a seemingly very flustered secretary and headed toward the Naboo delegation's pod in the Senate hall. Sabé had been there so many times she didn't even have to consciously think of the path her feet should take – they made their way of their own accord.
For almost six months after the Battle of Geonosis many years ago, Padmé had gone into hiding with Anakin. During that time Sabé heard from Padmé very rarely and saw them only once, when she secretly provided some supplies for their starship. When Padmé finally had stopped her subterfuge after Darth Sidious' death, she not only was alive and married, which Sabé had known, but also pregnant with twins and resolved to resign her post in the Senate. Sabé initially had been reluctant to believe that Padmé wanted to step down, but after discussing it together she understood Padmé's changed priorities and her decision to pursue her goals by other means – as a professor at the University of Naboo, not as an elected official. At Padmé's urging and with her assistance, Sabé easily had won the special election to fill the remaining three and a half years of Padmé's term. She then won two full terms in office of her own. After over fifteen years in the Senate, she had retired to raise her children and focus on Naboo-sector local politics. And two years ago, Padme's daughter Leia had trounced handily Sabé's one-term successor to claim the seat herself. Sabé's daughter Sarré had been Leia's campaign manager and now was her most trusted handmaiden.
But Leia was missing. She had been taken prisoner, if not killed, by Vyhrragian forces. There had been no word about her for almost two standard days. In the current crisis atmosphere, and especially with its own Senator being directly involved, the Naboo system could not afford to be unrepresented in the Senate. Sabé already was on Coruscant and without hesitation had accepted Queen Vivonia's request to serve again temporarily.
Sabé strode confidently into Naboo's pod, with Nalé on her heels, to find Representative Tickis waiting for her. The young Gungan was quite polished and professional, at least from what she had heard from Sarré. Quite unlike Padmé's old friend Jar Jar Binks, who was Tickis' uncle. Or cousin. Some relation, anyway.
"Welcome, Senator Bellion," the Gungan greeted her in crisp, unaccented Basic. He handed her a small datapad. "I've been making notes on the debate. This should catch you up very quickly."
"Thank you, Representative," she acknowledged with a nod. "This is most unexpected."
"I prepare these notes all the time for Leia," he replied, inadvertently slipping into the informal usage of the office the way Leia ran it. "Unless you don't want them?"
"No, no, please," Sabé smiled. "Do what you always do. I'm only here for a few days." Her eyes met Tickis' – they both knew that might not be true, but they were going to operate on the assumption that it was. As she turned to face Nalé, her daughter preempted her.
"We've met, Mom," she groaned. "Sarré introduced me a long time ago."
Sabé decided to let the attitude pass without a response. Nalé did not have Sarré's love for politics, but Leia's Coruscant office was understaffed at the moment and Sabé needed someone she could trust on hand. And, really, what did she expect by bringing a fifteen-year-old girl to the boring Senate against her will during a school vacation? Sabé read through the notes, then lifted her head to listen to the raging debate among the delegates. The tone was far more acrimonious than Tickis' notes revealed.
Under Chancellor Trellem, the Senate had shifted styles. Instead of a series of unconnected and unresponsive speeches by each legislator, true parliamentary argument was the order of the day. And at the moment, two of the current Senate's master debaters were sparring head-to-head.
Senator Rylla of Ryloth, a corpulent Twi'lek, was a member of the Chancellor's peace faction. "What proof do we have," he was demanding bombastically, "that Senator Organa has even been kidnapped? I am fully and completely unwilling to make any change in policy based on unsubstantiated rumors! Negotiations, both public and private, are proceeding. We must not overreact."
Senator Bail Millius of Alderaan, only a few years older than Leia but undisputed leader of the defense faction, raged back. "What proof? The Senator surely understands Basic. Did he not witness the Navy's briefing in this chamber this morning?" A loud collective guffaw echoed through the spacious room as dozens of Senators enjoyed the jab at Rylla's expense. "I ask you, colleagues, how many more times will we sit back and do nothing as Argis flaunts the laws of the Republic?"
"Perhaps there has been a misunderstanding in respect to this incident," Rylla suggested. "Or perhaps Senator Organa was taken by pirates masquerading as Vyhrragian military. Perhaps even rogue elements of Argis' own forces seek to discredit him. Until we know the truth, we cannot rush to judgment."
"The truth? You can't handle the truth!" Millius now truly was enraged at his opponent. "Argis is seizing planets with impunity. Raising a massive army and navy, one already greater than most planetary forces of the Core. Denying access to Holonet reporters. Censoring news broadcasts. And now he has taken hostage a member of this august body. Can you not see it? This is nothing short of an act of war!"
Chancellor Trellem, from high up on the central podium, finally stepped in to restore a measure of decorum. "This tragic development is only another small step in our dispute with Argis and his New Justice movement. Senator Rylla is correct. Until we have better information, we should not act hastily. Yet Senator Millius is right to remind us that at some point violation piled upon illegality will cumulatively create a situation in which action must be taken. I think perhaps he overstates his case, however. Even if Argis has seized the Senator from Naboo, it may not be an act of war."
Sabé slammed her left palm on the console's large red button and triggered the drive mechanism with her right hand. The Chancellor had misplayed his hand badly. First, he should have been aware that the galaxy's leading authority on the laws of war had arrived in Naboo's pod. Second, the woman for whom she was substituting was an unabashed member of Millius' defense faction. Third, Sabé never had liked Trellem anyway. So she was going to savage him for his careless statement and score a few points on Millius' behalf in the process. The pod zipped quickly toward the debating arena below. When Trellem recognized her rising to her feet at its front, she saw his face fall.
Inside, Sabé was brimming with anticipation. Nalé was too young to remember her mother at the height of her influence in the Senate, when she had been one of the chamber's most intimidating orators. Maybe watching the ease with which she was about to humiliate the Supreme Chancellor would give her daughter a new perspective.
It wasn't so bad to be back after all.
---
Leia adjusted herself on the floor of her cell. She was sure it had been at least two standard days since her capture; the hard tiles were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. And she felt disgusting. The puny dribbles of water she could coax from the sink barely sufficed to wash her hands, and she desperately wanted a shower and a change of clothes. It didn't seem likely anytime soon.
She had looked carefully over every square inch of the cell, hoping to find some means of escape. She hadn't. And, anyway, she admitted to herself afterwards, where exactly was she planning to go if she made it out? She had no idea how to get to a hangar, and it seemed unlikely the Vyhrragians would let her fly away in a starfighter even if she could hot-wire one. So she was stuck in here.
The clomping of a pair of boots in the hallway caught her attention. The metal sliding box at the base of the door clanged loudly, then slid into her cell. Leia crawled across the floor and looked inside. The container held a bottle of water and a large bowl filled with foul-smelling gruel of some kind.
She leaned against the nearby wall and pondered what to do. She had refused to eat any of their food or drink any of the liquids the Vyhrragians had provided, afraid they might be poisoned with a toxin or contaminated with a mind-altering drug to ease the interrogation she was confident was coming at some point. Her stomach ached sharply from hunger pains, however, and she would become delirious from thirst sooner or later.
If they want me dead, she decided, then they would have killed me already by now. So it's probably not poisoned. And I can't hold out forever. I'll just have to take my chances. She reached inside the box and retrieved the bottle and bowl.
The gruel tasted even worse than it smelled, but it was food. Maybe even nourishing. After a few bites, she concentrated even harder and successfully suppressed her gag reflex. She devoured the rest of the slop as quickly as she could to get it over with. Then she placed the bowl back in the bin and scooted across the floor to the far wall. She waited. And waited some more. Leia wanted to be sure the food was going to stay down before she drank the water.
Convinced after several more minutes it was safe to proceed, she chugged down the entire bottle of water in one massive gulp. She finally realized how tired and weak she had become when it took seven tries to toss the bottle back into the sliding box from only a few feet away.
She braced her back against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. An hour later, she still was feeling no ill effects from the meal. Relieved, she decided it must have been the right decision.
At least if she was going to be here a while longer, she wouldn't be quite so miserable.
---
With Jenny, Artoo, and Threepio trailing her, Padmé reached the bottom of the naval corvette's boarding ramp. She wore an elegant blue dress and carried only her small shoulder bag with her; Bryon had insisted that his men would unload and deliver their luggage later. Quickly she scanned the gigantic docking bay of the Invictus, looking for one person and one person only.
At first she didn't see him. The Lady Vader was resting on its landing gear across the expansive space, so she knew he was here. Then her eyes caught two figures in the telltale tan robes rushing toward the corvette. Without thinking she let the bag fall to the floor and broke into a run.
"Ani!" she called to him pointlessly, for she knew full well he not only saw her but also sensed her in the Force.
After a few seconds, husband and wife reached each other. Anakin grasped Padmé firmly by the waist, lifted her off her feet, and twirled her around several times as he planted a wonderfully gentle kiss on her lips. When he set her down again, he pulled her against him forcefully and buried his face against her neck. "I missed you so much, angel," he agonized forlornly, his voice barely audible.
"I missed you too," she whispered, choking back tears. The fierce intensity of their embrace expressed their gut-wrenching anxiety for Leia, and their unshakable determination to rescue her, better than words ever could.
They simply stood there locked tightly against each other, relishing finally being together again. Everything else could wait.
Jenny scooped up Padmé's bag and went straight to Danaé, knowing she would prefer a conversation to waiting aimlessly for her parents to end their display of affection. "Bryon's on the ship with his troops," Jenny told her while they shared a brief hug in greeting. "He'll be out shortly."
"That's good," Danaé smiled. "I haven't seen him in a while. We have a lot to catch up about."
"When you do," Jenny nudged her with an elbow, "ask him about Sarré. We're dying to know if they're officially together right now or not."
Danaé looked over, confused. "Is she here too?"
"Yes," Jenny nodded. "Padmé couldn't exactly say no to her about this."
"True," Danaé agreed somberly, then let her face brighten again. "I'll see what I can find out."
"You're our best shot right now," Jenny teased. "Feel free to try a mind trick if you need to."
Danaé appreciated the levity and gave Jenny another hug. A quick glance showed her parents still unmoving, clutching each other desperately. All she wanted to do was briefly say hello to her mother, and she didn't feel like disturbing them just for that.
Off to the side, the droids were left to fend for themselves as always. Artoo toodled a query.
"No, I don't know where he is," Threepio replied in annoyance. "But Master Anakin's ship is here, so I'm confident he is as well."
From behind them came a series of squawks and chirps that could only be one droid. Threepio turned his body to face that direction and Artoo rotated his top around. Sure enough, approaching at a rapid rolling pace was R2-J2, an astromech droid who looked like a black-and-gold version of Artoo. This droid, whom everyone called Jaytoo, was Anakin's personal creation. He had built the droid especially for the Lady Vader and designed his tools and computers to complement his own abilities. Jaytoo's skills in astrogation and repair probably were superior to Artoo's. Comparatively speaking, though, Jaytoo was a weak computer slicer and could contribute little to space combat analysis. But that was exactly what Anakin wanted.
Artoo warbled a happy greeting in return, and Threepio stepped forward to pat Jaytoo on the dome. "Why thank you," he said with excitement, "we did have a pleasant stay on Naboo with Mistress Padmé. We have so many interesting things to tell you…"
Following Jenny and Danaé toward the far wall of the docking bay and its entrance to the rest of the destroyer, Threepio started ahead, prattling on and on as he walked. Wheeling behind on three legs each, Artoo and Jaytoo turned to go after him. As they did, they let out very quiet amused bloops to each other and spun their domes quickly back and forth. It was the astromech equivalent of a shaking head and a "Doesn't this guy ever shut up?"
---
They gathered around a table in an interior conference room on the bridge of the Invictus for the expected status report from the reconnaissance team. Anakin sat at the head, closest to the intercom speaker. Padmé was at his left and Admiral Mirkalla on his right. Jenny and Sarré were on Padmé's side of the table, Bryon and Danaé with the admiral.
Right on schedule the intercom buzzed and the communications officer patched the transmission through. "Bravo Base, this is Bravo Two. Confirmation requested," said Mara's voice.
"Bravo Two, encryption confirmed. Proceed," announced the officer, who then immediately clicked himself off the feed.
"What can you tell me, Mara?" Anakin asked.
"Nothing good, nothing bad, Master," Mara reported calmly. "We're continuing to clear large areas of space, and we're closer to pinning down where the frigate is. But there is much left to do. It will be hours, if not days. The data is on its way."
"I know you're doing your best," Anakin responded reassuringly. "And it's better to be careful and deliberate than act in a rush and miss something."
"Yes, Master."
"Have you and Luke used the Force to assist the search?"
"Without informing Captain Solo, yes we have, Master," Mara answered. "Although our efforts have become increasingly difficult." She paused, making Anakin suspect she was nervous to report her analysis. "We believe there may be a Force-user aboard the frigate who is interfering with our attempts to locate her."
"I also have encountered resistance when I have tried to check on Leia," Anakin informed her. "Trust in the Force, my young Padawan. It will not mislead you." For now, he decided not to tell her about the two black-cloaked figures in Leia's frantic Force message or the Jedi Council's conclusion that the Sith once again were threatening the galaxy. The logical conclusion was that the Sith had seized Leia and now were trying to block the Jedi from finding her easily. But he wanted Mara and Luke to fulfill their mission on their own.
The intercom beeped to signal that the data had been received. "Is there anything else, Master?"
Even if he didn't mention the Sith directly, he didn't want them to do anything foolish. Like he might have done at their age. "Remember, Mara, locate and track only. Do not engage. Remind Luke as well."
"Yes, Master."
"And tell Captain Solo I look forward to meeting him. May the Force be with you."
"May the Force be with you, Master," she responded before cutting off the link.
The seven of them discussed the options for half an hour before ultimately deciding to continue with the current plan. They would have to have faith that the two X-Wings and the Falcon could accomplish their mission quickly. With that conclusion reached, Anakin and Padmé asked for and received some privacy in the conference room.
He gave her all the details of his vision from Leia, the Council's deliberations, and Obi-Wan's meeting with Mace and Yoda. She shared a wealth of information about the ongoing debates in the Senate and the relative numbers of the peace faction and defense faction. After about an hour of discussion, they had circled back to the two principal issues at hand: the Sith's return and the Senate's deadlock.
"Well," Anakin started again, "it seems unlikely the Sith have infiltrated the Senate the way Sidious did, don't you think?"
"I agree," Padmé nodded. "These disputes are bona fide, not manufactured."
"So where does that leave us?"
"I can see three possibilities. One, Argis is working directly with the Sith. Two, Argis is a legitimate political dissident who is being unwittingly manipulated by the Sith for their own ends. Three, Argis has nothing to do with the Sith and his involvement in Leia's capture has been faked, probably to provoke a war."
"Makes sense to me," he concurred. "Now we just have to figure out a way to determine which of those it is. And I have no idea how we do that."
Before Padmé could answer, the intercom buzzed. "Jedi Master Skywalker?"
"Yes?"
"Admiral Mirkalla advises you to turn on the Holonet now, sir. Something you need to see."
"Thank you."
Anakin flicked the switch and brought up the news network on the main viewscreen. It was broadcasting live the latest ranting speech by Argis, delivered as always from a balcony of his royal palace on Vyhrrag.
"… have hindered the galaxy for too long. It is time we moved on to the future." Argis was a tall and thin human male in his late twenties with pale skin, short black hair, and a neatly trimmed black beard and moustache. "So today I come before you to announce that the Jedi Order no longer holds a monopoly on the power of the Force."
Anakin and Padmé exchanged startled, worried glances.
From behind a curtain, two tall figures dressed in white tunics and huge billowing white cloaks strode forward to take up positions at Argis' shoulders. Their faces were not visible, and Anakin could not sense them through the Force over the electronic feed. "I have formed the Crusaders of Justice," Argis continued. "Together with the military forces of the New Justice movement, the Crusaders will fight for the weak and impoverished. We will use the Force for the good of all citizens of the galaxy. Its strength is truly miraculous and great. For too long it has been held in secret by a small group of self-proclaimed guardians of its power. Now it can be shared with all, for the benefit of all. The Force is not a mystical and incomprehensible thing. It is a weapon for all that is good and honorable and right in the galaxy. A weapon of justice." With a flourish, Argis ended his speech to the riotous cheering of the thousands in attendance.
Anakin flicked off the viewscreen and leaned back in his chair. He took a deep breath and looked over to see that Padmé had done the same. "Now we have part of our answer," he winked.
"Hmm?"
"I think we can eliminate your third possibility, don't you?"
She looked deeply into his eyes. "Oh, right. Yeah." She took another deep breath. "Do you think these Crusaders of his are the Sith?"
"Yes." He ran his fingers through his short gray hair. "I suppose it's possible they're not. But I would be very surprised."
"So the only issue is whether he's knowingly cooperating or is being duped."
"That's right." Anakin rose from his chair and stepped over to stand in front of her. "And that's not something we can determine right now. But I haven't seen Bryon in a while and Danaé wants to see you."
She pulled herself to her feet by his hands and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "And that is something we can do right now."
"Indeed, angel, it is." Hand-in-hand, they walked together out of the conference room.
---
Danaé opened her eyes and looked at her fingers. They were pale and heavily wrinkled. Despite the joy of the almost-too-hot bath, she knew it was time to get out. She found it hard to believe the Invictus had guest facilities this elaborate, but apparently the Navy had decided that it was necessary for those times when Senators or other dignitaries might be aboard. For now she was delighted that the Skywalkers had the run of the place.
The warm heat of the full-body dryer unit finished its task, and she slipped into a simple pale blue nightgown and pulled on a matching heavy plush robe. When the next two updates from Luke, Mara, and Captain Solo also had come back negative on the Vyhrragian frigate's location, Anakin and Padmé had agreed that the best plan was for everyone to retire for the night. In the morning, hopefully there would be better news.
After the hours of meditation with her father on the Lady Vader, her mind remained clear and placid for the first time in quite a while. She also felt pleased to have been able to spend some time alone with her mother. She still had not caught up with Bryon and suspected she knew why. Thrilled about getting a restful night's sleep, Danaé waved open the refresher door and stepped out into her bedroom. As she did so, she relaxed her mind too – and was bombarded by powerful emotions in the Force she should have anticipated but forgot to prepare herself for.
From what seemed like her right was a blazing presence in the Force so strong she almost couldn't read it. Like a supernova, it nearly blinded her other perceptions entirely. Its radiance was filled with indescribably happy emotions of all kinds, but mostly a profoundly deep and abiding love touched with undercurrents of desire and pure serenity. The only aspect that made it uncomfortable for Danaé was that she couldn't perceive her mother and father separately.
Can you keep this to yourselves, please? she asked reluctantly through the Force. The immediate reply was more a wave of thought than words, a combination of sincere apology and giddy embarrassed giggle. As suddenly as it had blasted into her awareness, the shining brilliance was utterly gone. Danaé smirked. It was amazing what her father could achieve with the Force when he remembered the need to do it.
With the overpowering light gone, another wave of emotion assaulted her from the left. She had thought Jenny was taking the room on that side, but apparently not. Instead she sensed Bryon and Sarré alone together. Although the emotions were similar to her parents', in other ways they differed completely. Contentment and desire were there, certainly, but there was a quiet desperation to the love, a relentlessness to the happiness, and a driving pulse of anxiety beneath all of it. Despite their elation, the two young presences hardly were serene. And they were totally incapable of dampening their radiance in the Force.
With a lung-emptying sigh, Danaé picked up her access card and lightsaber from her bedside stand and dropped them into a deep pocket of the robe. She wiggled her toes into a pair of slippers and left her room, walking down the hallway to the small lounge of the guest suite.
A warm cup of cocoa in her hands, she stood at the wide viewport of the room. She was on the side of the destroyer facing away from Sullust, so she looked out at the huge expanse of stars and dropped her mind into another peaceful Force meditation. In the living Force, she could sense all the activity on the destroyer, the hundreds of soldiers carrying out their duties and hundreds more sound asleep. It was a pleasant and soothing tingle.
She had no idea how long it was before her mind sensed another presence coming up the hallway toward the lounge. In the meantime she apparently had unconsciously finished her drink. She stepped over to make another cup as Sarré poked her head around the corner. "Hi," she whispered. She wore a thick white plush robe over a white nightgown.
"Come on in," Danaé smiled, struggling to keep her face from giving anything away. The two young women did not say a word to each other as they made themselves cocoa and walked over to the viewport together.
"You're here because of us, aren't you?" Sarré asked after a while. "We tried to be quiet."
"No, it's not that," Danaé giggled, patting Sarré on the shoulder with her left hand. "It's what I can sense in the Force, and you can't control it." She looked more closely at Sarré now. She had brushed her shoulder-length blonde hair thoroughly and washed her face, and all the gloss was gone from her slightly swollen lips. All of Leia's tricks, Danaé chuckled to herself. If I didn't know to look…
"Oh," Sarré replied, looking down into her cup. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about that."
Danaé reached her hand around to Sarré's opposite shoulder and pulled her into a half-hug of sorts. "Look," she insisted calmly, "I don't mind. You haven't seen each other in a long time. You need to… get reacquainted. I understand." In the Force, she could tell that Sarré was missing every second away from Bryon, although the playful glimmer in her spirit suggested he probably was soundly asleep right now.
"Okay," Sarré sighed. Her lavender eyes looked up suddenly at Danaé, filled with fear. "Do you think your Dad…"
Before Sarré could finish the question, Danaé nearly choked on her sip of cocoa. When she found her voice again, she sputtered in laughter. "Um, no. He was… let's just say… preoccupied."
That, finally, relaxed Sarré's mood. "Oh. I see."
When the giggling subsided, Danaé looked closely at Sarré again. "You really love him, don't you?"
Sarré nodded shyly. "I always have," she whispered.
"My parents know," Danaé suggested gently. "You and Bryon don't need to hide it anymore."
Sarré wouldn't meet her gaze. "I think we know that. Intellectually, anyway. But I don't think we're ready to admit it yet. Not to their faces."
We're not or he's not? Danaé wondered but kept the thought to herself. Then she sensed a third presence headed their way. "My Mom's coming," she warned Sarré in case she wanted to leave. She stayed.
"Hello, girls." Padmé strode into the lounge with a noticeable bounce of happiness in her step and strong emotions of contentment and satisfaction peeling off her into the Force. Her unbound long brown hair was an utterly tangled mess and hung out in all directions over her fiery red nightgown and robe. She clearly had not looked in a mirror, because she had made no effort to cover the deep bruise at the base of her neck that had not been there several hours ago.
"Hi, Mom," Danaé smiled. It amazed her that the serenity she had perceived earlier still hung over her mother like a second robe.
"Hello, Padmé," Sarré said far more quietly. For years now Sarré had been under strict orders to call Anakin and Padmé by their first names. It still seemed unnatural to her, but she forced herself to do it. The lecture she received each time she forgot was plenty of incentive to remember.
A cup of cocoa in her hands, Padmé joined them at the viewport. "The stars really are lovely tonight, aren't they?"
"Yes," Sarré agreed, "they're beautiful. Even brighter than on Naboo."
In the Force, Danaé could sense their feelings. They weren't talking about the stars. Not really. For the first time in a while, Danaé's thoughts drifted to her own romantic life. More accurately, to the lack of it. Her father and mother shared the most deeply intense and mature love imaginable and were more powerfully happy together than any other couple Danaé ever had encountered. Leia had loved Jarren Organa with a passion that Danaé had been able to feel even when he wasn't around. Bryon and Sarré had been in love since before either of them understood what love was. And her older brother, well, Luke Heartbreaker was a man to be reckoned with in the Jedi Temple.
Danaé wondered if something was wrong with her. In many ways, she was a Skywalker through and through. Except in this. All the rest seemed to need romantic attachments in their lives, to thrive vibrantly with them and struggle in their absence. Yet she never had felt such emotions in herself. She was completely at home in the Force, embracing all the life energy that flowed constantly in the galaxy around her and in her own body. In the classical Jedi way, she felt unlimited compassion for all living beings. True, she loved her family more deeply and more plainly than other things. But she doubted she ever would feel in her own life the special emotions Padmé and Sarré had tonight. Later, when things were calmer and the crisis was over, she would figure out whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Or maybe neither and just the way she was. In the meantime, she stretched out into the Force again and enjoyed vicariously the sheer happiness of her two companions.
"Yes," Danaé whispered to no one in particular, though she guessed they could hear. "Yes they are."