CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Barriss Offee stood on the Jedi Council's observation balcony overlooking the enormous bowl of the Galactic Senate chamber and watched as the pods of the hundreds of delegations slowly began to fill. Supreme Chancellor Amidala had not announced an agenda for the session, and conflicting reports on the Holonet disputed whether the Chancellor in fact had lifted the adjournment of the legislative body or instead simply had convened the representatives for a joint briefing on the end of the Vyhrragian war. Barriss had her suspicions, but they were only that.

She would know soon enough, along with the Senators and the citizens of the galaxy. There was no point in speculating any further.

"Anakin was right," Barriss said quietly.

At her sides her two friends looked at her in surprise.

"Our meditations are clear. Our perceptions are not shrouded." Barriss clasped her hands in front of her. "It is different than after Sidious was slain. It is different now. Brighter."

"Yes," Aayla Secura said. "I agree."

Valin Halcyon crossed his arms over his chest. "Balance is restored to the Force."

"It is," Barriss said. "There is no doubt of it."

"The Sith have been defeated," Valin said. "Their menace has been vanquished forever."

"Unimaginable suffering in the galaxy has been avoided," Aayla added, gazing out over the chamber. "Intolerable evils have been averted."

Barriss nodded once. "Yet darkness remains. Evil persists. So long as some crave power, or wealth, or supremacy, the dark side will offer them the tools of aggression and domination."

"Just as the light will be an ally to those who seek peace and justice in the Republic," Aayla said. "The Jedi will stand against darkness, as we always have."

"Our task is simpler now," Valin said. "The Sith were a perversion of the Force – a corruption of its power beyond the bounds of reason. With their evil extinguished, it is only the natural balance of light and dark that we must maintain. And without the fog of their diabolical plots to cloud our vision."

Barriss smiled. "Simpler, perhaps. But not simple."

"No," Valin conceded. "The galaxy is too large, and we are too few."

"As it has always been," Aayla reminded them calmly. "We will do our duty as we have always done. We will serve the Senate and the Republic, and follow our mandate and the Jedi Code."

"And the will of the Force," Barriss said.

"As Anakin did," Valin said, nodding.

"Yes," Aayla said. "The Code, our rules, our service to the Republic… None of that matters if we do not first serve justice, and the Force."

Barriss closed her eyes for a moment. "There will be dark times in years to come. That is the way of things – light and dark ebb and flow, and achieve balance."

"Darkness will always exist," Valin said. He smiled. "But darkness cannot triumph. Darkness can rise, but it cannot endure."

"No," Barriss agreed. "That is what Anakin has won for us – the balance of the Force."

"And for that," Aayla said, "we owe him an eternal debt of gratitude."

Barriss glanced around the Senate chamber and saw that nearly all the pods now were filled. "They will begin the session soon," she said.

Even as the words left her mouth and her companions nodded, a building murmur rose from the gathered Senators. Far below on the floor a single pod had begun to rise toward the Supreme Chancellor's podium atop its high column in the center of the expansive chamber.

Barriss tapped the viewscreen on the low front wall of the observation balcony, and the image focused on the ascending pod.

Barriss recognized the seated figures immediately. Supreme Chancellor Amidala wore a black gown, and a thin black veil hung down over her face. At her sides were her old friends Sabé Bellion and Jar Jar Binks, both dressed in similar black attire of mourning from their homeworld of Naboo.

The pod slowed to a stop, and the three figures disembarked and took up their posts on the Chancellor's podium. The murmur quieted as the veiled woman faced the assembled delegates.

"May the Force be with you, Padmé," whispered Barriss.

Padmé's gloved hands rose and lifted the veil up and off her face. Unlike her address to the Senate declaring her candidacy for Supreme Chancellor, she wore no ceremonial makeup and no formal jewelry of any kind. Instead she looked like nothing more than a humble woman in mourning, one of thousands across the galaxy widowed by the war. Without the pageantry of the Senate around her, she would not seem at all like the leader she was.

Barriss smiled. The only adornment to the black gown was the familiar japoor snippet pendant hanging from a thin chain. And Barriss no longer had any doubt what Padmé would say.

"Senators, delegates, fellow citizens of the Republic," Padmé's image on the small viewscreen said steadily, "I come before you to account for my actions, and to undo what I have done. I do not seek your forgiveness or your approval. I do not wish to avoid responsibility for my decisions, or to claim any special prerogative to justify them. I will provide my conclusions and reasons to you, and I will submit myself to your judgment."

A surprised rumble echoed through the cavernous bowl. In the Force Barriss could sense the disbelief and shock of many Senators, and the rejoicing of others.

Padmé squared her shoulders and lifted her face to the assembled legislature. "I hereby rescind my decree adjourning this body indefinitely. Under the rules of procedure, it is my duty to declare that the Senate is now in plenary session for the conduct of business."

A thunderous ovation filled the chamber, and every Senator in attendance stood and applauded the Supreme Chancellor's announcement. When the clamor faded, Padmé began her address. She described the Victory Strike plan and the secrecy with which it had been designed and implemented. She discussed the state of the war and her reasons for concluding that decisive action had been imperative. She explained why suspending the Senate had been the best option among undesirable alternatives, and why Victory Strike had been the best choice for the Republic.

Padmé smiled, and concluded her speech. "Thank you," she said. "May the Force be with you."

Another round of cheering and acclaim greeted her words, and it lasted for several minutes.

After decorum was restored Padmé glanced down at the podium's computer stations, then looked up again. "The Chair recognizes the Senator from the Rodia system."

Barriss felt the trepidation flowing out from the gathered legislators as Senator Breena's pod released from its moorings on the wall and floated slowly toward the center of the chamber. Breena long had dissented from the Senate's course in the war, and had been one of Padmé's staunchest opponents from the first moments of Supreme Chancellor Amidala's term. Some of the Senators no doubt wondered if Breena planned to call for a vote of no confidence in the widowed leader who had won the war.

The Rodian's pod stopped in midair, and Breena looked straight at Padmé. "Fellow Senators," Breena said in her heavily accented Basic, "I move for a vote of ratification and endorsement of the Supreme Chancellor's actions."

A collective startled gasp resonated in the quiet chamber, punctuated only by Senator Rylla of Ryloth providing the necessary second to the motion.

Breena stood taller. "I respectfully request that the vote carry by unanimous consent."

In her observation box high above Barriss smiled. The Force was with Padmé today. The Force was with them all.

Padmé lifted her eyes and looked up through the wide round opening in the center of the roof of the small circular room. The sky still was deep blue with the last hues of dusk, and the brightest stars of the constellations had begun to reveal themselves like glittering gemstones on a dark cloth. Over thirty years ago she had gazed up at this same panorama of light and gloom while she had paced slowly to this place for the final remembrance of the Jedi Master who had guided and protected her on her quest to save her planet from its conquerors.

Tonight the roles were reversed – the protector mourned the savior. For over two decades she had kept Anakin's heart and soul safe and true until he finally had fulfilled his destiny, brought balance to the Force, and saved the galaxy from the Sith forever. He had given his life to ensure his triumph. A true Jedi sacrifice, one worthy of his memory.

Qui-Gon Jinn had been right about Anakin from the start all those years ago. That, at least, was something to celebrate, not mourn.

Padmé smiled just a little as she lowered her gaze to the funeral bier in the middle of the room. Atop the neatly stacked wooden beams lay Anakin's motionless body, his hands clasped atop his chest and his closed eyes facing up into the night. A soft burst of wind ruffled his tan Jedi robes and his short gray hair, and for just a moment Padmé thought he somehow would sit up, turn to face her, and go on living.

But she knew he wouldn't. That was just her last, desperate hope rising to the surface of her emotions. Anakin was dead, and nothing could change that.

Padmé slowly scanned the mourners gathered around the circumference of the room. It was a private memorial – no state funeral at the Senate, no formal burial at the Jedi Temple, no royal honors on Naboo. Only those who truly formed the ties and bonds of Anakin's life were here for the sacraments of his death.

Opposite her was the delegation from the Jedi Order. Anakin's three closest friends on the Jedi Council, Barriss Offee, Aayla Secura, and Valin Halcyon, had conveyed the Order's condolences to her a short time ago, and she had asked them to stay for the ceremony, just as the Council's representatives had mourned Qui-Gon three decades ago.

Standing just behind the three Jedi Masters was Mace Windu, his eyes closed and his hands clasped calmly in front of him. With a wistful pang Padmé wondered why she and Mace still were here, when so many others were gone. Anakin, of course, and Obi-Wan and Yoda too. Perhaps her task was to lead the Republic into the future as Supreme Chancellor, to shape the course of the recovery from the Vyhrragian war and the reparation of the injustices that had given Argis' rhetoric so much power in the first place. She was not yet fifty years old, and it seemed the Force expected more of her. Yet Mace was nearly twenty-five years her senior, and she could not fathom what the Force possibly could have left to ask of him.

Then again, she never would have anticipated that the Force could demand that she go on without Anakin to support her. Sometimes it was better not knowing the answers.

Padmé's eyes drifted to her right, where her family and friends stood huddled together, crying. Her parents and sister. Sola's family. Sabé, Alain, and Nalé. Dormé, Rabé, and Saché. Jar Jar Binks and Bail Organa. Threepio, Artoo, and Jaytoo. Compared to Anakin, she had so many. All his life he had been practically alone. First, there had been only Anakin and his mother. Then his apprenticeship to Obi-Wan. Then his marriage to Padmé. True, Anakin had found companionship in a small group of friends on Tatooine, and later among the Jedi, and in a few short years he had grown as close to the Naberries as if they were his own blood and as close to Sabé as if she were his sister. Yet Padmé wondered if some small part of him always had remained that lonely, scared little boy who had flown with her from Tatooine to Coruscant after the Boonta Eve race that had won his freedom. Whether the street kid from a dustball in the Outer Rim ever had felt truly at home on the glittering worlds of the Core.

Padmé looked to her left, to their family. Bryon and Sarré, and baby Nyklas. Danaé. Leia and Han. Luke and Mara. Whatever he might have thought of Coruscant, or the Senate, or the Jedi Temple, she knew Anakin had found joy beyond description with her and their children. That primal sense of belonging he had lost at his mother's death ultimately had blossomed again, and once more he had found something invaluably precious that was undeniably and irreversibly his. Their family – Anakin's family – had been the very best part of his life.

The blue in the sky had shifted to black, and countless more stars sparkled in the nighttime vista. There was no reason to delay any longer – everyone already had paid their last respects to Anakin.

She felt Mara arrive at her side, and her gaze met somber green eyes. Padmé smiled a warm, consoling smile and nodded once.

Mara reached out for a moment and put a hand on Padmé's arm, then nodded back and turned away. She walked to the side of the bier and stopped. For a heavy moment she paused, and her shoulders rose and fell in a long, deep breath. Slowly her right hand reached up, and it seemed to hang in midair.

There was a whisper of sound, and then the glittering silver lightsaber handle held beneath Anakin's hands atop his chest lifted smoothly from the lifeless grasp and floated into Mara's upraised palm. Her fingers closed around her former Master's weapon, and she lowered her hand.

With the distinctive snap-hiss the turquoise blade ignited.

Mara held it there, angled in the air in front of her. The thrum of the shimmering laser sword filled the quiet chamber, and the sound echoed off the walls and up and out the open roof into the night.

Mara stepped forward and plunged the lightsaber into the bier. Instantly flames began to spark and crackle as the searing heat of the energy blade lit the dry wood ablaze. Mara held the laser sword inside the bier for a few more seconds, then stepped back and deactivated the weapon.

The flames began to grow, quickly consuming the fuel and flickering upward toward Anakin's body. Padmé saw Mara's hand move forward slightly, almost as though Mara was about to toss the handle up to Anakin again. Instead Mara's hand shifted back, and she clipped the handle to her belt next to her own.

Padmé stared at the roaring fire as it engulfed Anakin. His spirit was part of the Force now, and his physical form was only a last fleeting manifestation of the man she loved.

She wondered what Anakin would think of her decision to return his body to the Force in this place. He had been born on Tatooine, but after his mother's death he no longer had thought of the desert planet as home. He had lived nearly all of his adult life on Coruscant, in the Jedi Temple or their residence, but the capital had never captured his heart. He had spent numerous days and weeks with her on Naboo, but he cared so fondly for it only because of how much she loved her homeworld. There was no physical place in the galaxy that was truly Anakin's.

So Padmé had chosen Theed – the place where the events that led her to Anakin had been set in motion during her first year as Queen, the place where a few days later she had stood with Anakin to mourn their friend Qui-Gon.

This place mattered to her, so it mattered to Anakin. He would approve of her choice because of what it meant to her. That was the only thing he would have considered.

Padmé's vision blurred from the bright, flickering flames of the funeral pyre and from the tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She blinked away the wetness in her eyes and looked at Anakin once more. His body barely was visible through the conflagration, and she knew that within another few minutes he would be gone.

Someone took her hand, and she looked over to see Luke standing at her side. Her son's blue eyes shined so much like his father's, and he gave her a tender, comforting smile so much like her own. He squeezed her hand once, and waited.

Padmé squeezed Luke's hand in return, and smiled back.

---

Leia strode quickly along the corridor of the Galactic Senate building. She tugged the cowl of her cloak further down over her face and hunched her shoulders. She'd finished dealing with the few quick matters she'd snuck into the office to resolve, and now she was heading back to her airspeeder to fly home. She didn't want to be seen, and she certainly didn't want to get dragged into any of the politicking now rampant in the hallways. There would be plenty of time for that in the coming days, but not this evening.

She emerged onto the small outdoor landing platform to see a tall man in a dress-whites Navy uniform leaning back against her parked airspeeder with his hands crammed into his pockets.

Leia reached his side in an instant. "Captain."

Han grinned. "Princess."

She looked up into his eyes. "So, you're here to say goodbye?"

"Guess again, sweetheart."

"Really?"

"Really."

"When do you deploy?"

Han pulled his hands from his pockets and planted them at his sides on the airspeeder. "Three days."

Leia smiled broadly. "Come on. Dinner's waiting at home."

He hesitated for just a moment. "All right, Princess. Sure."

"Oh. I'm sorry. You had other plans."

Han flashed her a lopsided grin. "Lando won't even notice. Trust me."

"Good," she replied. "You want to fly?"

He grinned even broader. "I wouldn't mind."

They hopped into the airspeeder. With a smooth burst of the repulsors Han lifted them away from the landing platform, and after a few more seconds they were zooming through the crowded traffic lanes of the capital city-planet on a direct path toward the Skywalker residence.

Leia leaned her head on his shoulder. "What was it you came to tell me?"

Han glanced down at her for a moment. "About the deployment."

"You could've just commed to tell me that."

"But then I wouldn't have gotten to see your beautiful face, sweetheart."

"Nice try, Han." She leaned into him a bit more. "What else were you going to tell me?"

"You sure you're not a Jedi mind-reader too?"

"I'm sure."

He sighed. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Too bad."

"I arranged my next assignment after the deployment."

"And?"

"Turns out there's three one-year openings for new instructors at the Academy."

Leia smiled – what a perfect opportunity for him. "How did you find that out?"

Han grinned. "From Fel. He snatched up one before anyone else, the little sneak."

"And who's the third?"

"Wedge."

She laughed. "Does the Academy realize what they've done?"

He laughed too. "I doubt it."

"Which campus? Carida?"

"No."

"Corulag?"

"Nope."

Leia gasped. "Coruscant? Are you serious?"

Han smiled innocently. "Would I lie to you, Princess?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

Han swung the airspeeder around and cut their speed. He tapped a button on the console, and on the side of the towering skyscraper in front of them a pair of docking bay doors began to open. The gap was just barely wide enough to fit them when he flew inside – a few centimeters to spare. If that.

Leia chuckled to herself as Han triggered the doors to close again. Too easy is no fun.

Once the repulsors cut away and the airspeeder settled down on its landing gear, Leia hopped out and waited for Han to join her. She reached out and took his hand, and led him toward the turbolift.

He stopped, and looked around at the other airspeeders, Luke's X-Wing, and the Lady Vader docked in the spacious chamber. "So… this is where your father died."

She'd forgotten he'd only been in the residence since then, not down here. "Yes."

"It doesn't bother you to be here?"

"Sometimes it does."

"But not right now?"

"No. Not with you here too."

He turned to look at her. "There were things I wanted to ask him about his flying… Things I wouldn't need the Force to learn."

She smiled. "He would have taught you, you know. He respected you, as a pilot and as a man."

Han shrugged. "He had a funny way of showing it sometimes."

Leia laughed. "It was difficult to impress my father, Han. Very difficult. The only other man I saw him treat that way, I married."

He raised his eyebrows. "And you're hoping to make it two for two?"

She stretched up to kiss him. "Han?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't get cocky."

Mara stood next to Luke on the terrace of the Skywalker residence. They both were leaned forward with their elbows braced on the edge of the low wall, and the brisk night wind whipped at their tan Jedi robes. Together they gazed off into the sparkling cityscape.

His voice broke the silence. "What's wrong?"

She glanced over, surprised. "Nothing. Why?"

"You haven't said anything in a while."

"Oh." She realized he was right, and looked away. "Nothing's wrong. I've just been thinking."

"About what?"

"About Anakin. I didn't get to say goodbye."

"I'm sorry, Mara."

She nodded. "I know you're right – I know he forgave me."

"I felt it."

"So did I."

Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Then why the regrets?"

She looked at him again, and shrugged. "For my own selfish reasons. I wanted to be able to say everything to him in person. To tell him. It matters to me, even if it doesn't to him."

He nodded once. "I understand."

Mara leaned into him a bit. "He knew about us, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Did he ever say anything to you?"

"No. And you?"

"No." Mara took a slow, deep breath and sighed. "He believed in us before we did."

Luke rested his cheek on the top of her head. "It's a bit disconcerting, isn't it?"

She laughed lightly. "I suppose so."

"He would be happy for us, you know."

"Yeah."

He squeezed her to him. "Mara?"

She sighed again. "I… I wanted his blessing. I wanted to hear it from him. Not just know it."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks," she said. "Well, there's nothing I can do about it. I might as well accept that."

"It will take time," he replied soothingly. "And I will be here with you as long as it takes."

She lifted her face and kissed him gently. "Good."

"We need to tell the others soon, Mara."

"I know. I just… I'm not sure I'm ready yet."

He laughed. "I'm not sure I'm ready either. But we have to tell them before we go to the Council."

She laughed too. "Yes. Very true."

"And we can't elope."

"No. I'd never do that to Padmé. Especially not now."

He smiled. "And we should announce it when we're all together, so no one feels left out."

Mara knew he meant tonight. They couldn't count on too many more days when Bryon and Sarré and Han and Leia and Danaé would all be home. "Luke…"

"It's all right," he said. "Only when you're ready."

She nodded, and leaned into him a little more. She caught herself brushing her fingertips along the slim, jagged scar running diagonally across the back of her left hand. The burn had been much worse than that, but the bacta patches and synthflesh had healed the rest of the severe wound with relative ease. This thin, pale line along her skin had persisted, though, and Mara knew it would be with her forever. It was a message from the Force, a constant reminder of how close she had come to choosing the wrong path.

Considering that Luke would have a cybernetic right hand as long as he lived, the small scar seemed trivial by comparison. Even when he didn't wear a glove, though, no one noticed Luke's hand. Her mark, by contrast, was open and obvious – it was there for all to see. There was a meaning there too, probably, one she might not discern for years to come.

"I'm going inside," Luke said softly.

"Go ahead," she replied. "I won't be long."

"All right." He released her from his embrace and stepped away from the wall. "I won't say anything. Not without you at my side."

"I know."

She didn't turn around, but her perceptions in the Force told her Luke was pacing slowly toward the door that led back inside the residence.

Mara gazed off into the night, and took another deep breath. What was she afraid of? What was she waiting for? Why, after all the pain they'd suffered through, was she now holding back from Luke?

Her answers arrived in a familiar glimmer in the Force. It startled her, and she spun in the direction of the sensation. She gasped, and her hand flew up to her mouth.

There, leaning back against the low wall of the terrace with his arms crossed over his chest, stood Anakin.

He was a shimmering blue figure of light. A phantom image of her mentor, her idol, her father. He looked the same as he had the last time she'd seem him alive only a few days ago.

A million thoughts raced through Mara's mind in that instant, and she couldn't find the words for any of them. There was so much she needed to say, so much she needed to tell him. So much to apologize for, and so much to ask. Yet she couldn't speak. A jolt of panic coursed through her body – she couldn't waste this moment. She trembled as she met his gaze.

Anakin's eyes were filled with pride and love. He smiled warmly at her.

When she smiled back Mara knew she didn't have to say a word. That single look between them washed away her fears and regrets. He had come to her to say goodbye, and give her the peace she needed.

Now her voice worked just fine. "Thank you."

Anakin nodded.

"Will I ever see you again?"

"You won't need to," Anakin said. He tipped his head. "Now go."

Mara glanced over her shoulder to see Luke waving open the door. When she looked back again, Anakin had vanished – and she laughed. One last lesson from her Master.

Her past had been Anakin's. Her future was Luke's. And she was ready to seize it – all of it.

"Hang on a minute," Mara called out to the man who soon would be her husband. "I'll come with you."

Bryon gazed out the window of the nursery into the sparkling nighttime cityscape of Coruscant. Behind him he heard the soft sounds of Sarré tucking Nyklas into the basinet. Their son finally was asleep for the night – finally. Bryon had thought fighting in the war was exhausting. It turned out that being the father of a Force-sensitive infant was far more tiring. Not even close, in fact.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Whatever you want is fine with me," Sarré replied quietly.

"You're sure?"

"I am." Her arms closed around his waist as she embraced him from behind.

"All right."

She squeezed him a little. "You don't know what you want, do you?"

He chuckled lightly. "Is it that obvious?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Blast."

She laughed into his back. "What are the advantages of the assignment at Command on Coruscant?"

He smiled at his reflection in the window. "I get to be with you and Nyklas."

"And you won't be in danger."

"That too."

"And the disadvantages?"

"I can make a difference in the field, and the other commanders know it. They want me there."

She squeezed him again. "You don't want to disappoint them."

He sighed. "No. I don't."

"And if you deploy to the theater, you'll earn their respect and admiration."

"Yes."

"So other than risking your life," Sarré asked, "why not do it?"

"Because I don't want to be away from you and our son."

"How many systems haven't surrendered yet?"

Bryon thought about it for a moment. "A few dozen. No more."

"How long will it take? To defeat them, or compel the rest to surrender."

"I don't know."

She swatted him on his abdomen. "Take a guess, idiot."

"At most a couple of months, I suppose."

"So do it."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's not that long."

"You're right, I guess. It's just…" He took a slow, deep breath. "I've missed you so much. I've missed so much of Nyklas' life. I don't want to miss you, or miss him, any more."

"I know, Bryon," she said. "But you've spent your whole career fighting in this war. Don't you want to see it through? Don't you want to finish it?"

He paused, and sighed. "Yes. I do."

"Then finish it. I'll be waiting for you, and so will Nyklas."

Bryon spun within her embrace and wrapped his arms around her. "The Senate will be very busy."

"I know," Sarré said. "But I'll have lots of help."

"True."

"Deploy to theater. Finish this for good, and come home."

He smiled. "I will."

Suddenly he felt fingers tickling his sides. "Stop that," he warned.

She batted her eyelashes innocently. "Stop what?"

"Right," Bryon said, tickling her sides in retaliation. "Like you don't know."

Sarré giggled, and tried unsuccessfully to squirm away. "You started it!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No," he insisted. "I didn't."

She glared up at him. "Yes, you did."

He felt the tickling on his sides again – except both her hands were planted squarely on his chest, ready to shove him playfully. "Sarré?"

She furrowed her brow. "What?"

He held up his hands in front of him – and watched her shiver at the tickling on her sides.

Her eyebrows rose. "You really didn't start it, did you?"

"No."

Together their eyes shot to the basinet, where Nyklas was looking at them with wide eyes and a broad grin on his face. Their son giggled at them, and clapped his tiny hands in self-satisfaction.

Bryon looked at Sarré. "Has he ever done that before?"

She shook her head. "No. Never."

"Oh. I guess we're stuck with the Jedi powers, huh?"

"Yes. I'm pretty sure we are."

Bryon grinned. "So… good luck with that while I'm away."

Sarré grinned back. "Watch yourself, General. It's not too late to rescind your orders."

Padmé stood on the small balcony above their bedroom in the Skywalker residence. Their bedroom – hers and Anakin's. The balcony where they had stood together, gazing off into the wondrous cityscape of Coruscant, for countless nights of their marriage. Where he always had stood with his arms around her and his chin atop her head as he embraced her from behind. The balcony where he had made her smile and laugh, where he had soothed her pain and calmed her anger, where he had supported her in a million amazing ways.

Tonight Padmé stood on the balcony alone. Tonight, and every night for the rest of her life.

Anakin was gone.

"I miss you," she said into the cool, gentle nighttime breeze brushing against her face.

Padmé crossed her arms over her chest and watched the brilliant multicolored lights of the airspeeders zooming and whizzing across the sky in intricate patterns of traffic lanes. The sight was mesmerizing in its detail, and beautiful in its own way. Beautiful for Coruscant, at least.

Beneath her she heard the door to the bedroom swish open, then closed. After a few more seconds came the soft thumps of booted feet climbing the circular staircase to join her.

"Hi, Mom," Danaé said as she stepped out onto the balcony.

"Hi, Danaé," Padmé replied over her shoulder. Her daughter hadn't called out to her – she'd simply sensed Padmé's location in the Force and come to find her. Just like Anakin had done so many times. Padmé wondered if Danaé realized that.

"It's chilly," her daughter said. "You should have a cloak on. Or at least a robe."

"I'm fine, honey," Padmé said, laughing lightly. Her simple tunic wasn't heavy, but it was enough. "Really."

"All right." Danaé didn't sound convinced.

Padmé glanced back briefly at her daughter, but didn't say anything.

"You've made a decision about something," Danaé said into the silence. "I can feel it."

"Yes," Padmé admitted. "Yes, I have."

"Well?"

"When I finish my service as Chancellor, I'm going to return home."

"To Naboo?"

"Yes."

Danaé nodded. "You've lived on Coruscant for a long time."

"Yes, I have." Padmé turned to face her daughter. "I miss the beauty of Naboo. The rivers and waterfalls. The trees and plains. The architecture."

"What about Nyklas?"

Padmé chuckled. "I didn't say I wouldn't visit here now and then."

Danaé smirked. "Now and then?"

"All right, maybe there will be some extended visits," Padmé conceded. "But here… this place…"

"It will never feel like home again. Not without Daddy."

"No. It won't."

"You could find somewhere else. Maybe near Sabé and Alain."

Padmé reached out and put a hand on Danaé's arm. "I appreciate the thought, sweetheart, but it's not what I want. For you and Bryon, and Luke and Leia, Coruscant feels more like home than Naboo. But not for me. And once my last obligations are concluded here, I want to go home."

Danaé pulled her into an embrace. "I understand, Mom."

"Thank you."

Danaé's hands rubbed Padmé's back tenderly. "We'll miss you so much, when you're not here."

"I know," Padmé said. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other often."

"Yes. We will." Danaé stepped back, and furrowed her brow. "So, what will you do with the residence?"

Padmé smiled. "I think Bryon and Sarré should have it."

For a moment Danaé gazed off into the night. "Yes," she finally said when she looked back. "That makes sense."

"You think so?"

"I do." Danaé reached out and took Padmé's hand. "I have the Temple. Luke and Mara… will have a family in their own time. And Leia…"

Padmé laughed. "Leia will need a place of her own for her family. She'd never be satisfied with this one. It's too much mine, and your father's. She has too many… idiosyncrasies to ever be content with it."

Danaé laughed too. "Very true."

"Besides, you'll all be welcome here any time. I don't have any doubt that Bryon and Sarré will keep several guest rooms ready. That's just who they are."

"Yes. And you'll always be welcome too, whenever you want to see us."

Padmé squeezed her daughter's hand. "I know."

Danaé released her grasp and turned toward the stairs. "Good night, Mom."

"Good night, Danaé."

When her daughter disappeared down the steps and the bedroom door had opened and shut again, Padmé closed her eyes and leaned into the cool breeze. She'd made these decisions in less than a day, and yet she knew they were the right ones. She was ready to go home. Once her time in office was concluded, she would go back to Naboo. Without Anakin here, Coruscant would feel empty. Even if she stayed, their children would move on to their own families, and homes, and futures. She knew Bryon and Sarré would be delighted to have her live with them in the residence, but Padmé didn't want that. She wanted them to have a home of their own, for their own family. She would visit them often, and that would be enough. It was time to retire to Naboo, to return to her homeworld and all the joys it brought her.

Padmé opened her eyes and looked out over the towering skyscrapers and darting airspeeders once more. Yes, Coruscant was beautiful in its own way. But it wasn't Naboo.

She took a deep breath, and sighed. "I miss you," she said softly into the night. "I don't know how I can go on without you."

The breeze ruffled her hair and chilled her cheeks, and she crossed her arms over her chest again.

"I miss you, Anakin," she said. "I miss you so much."

She shivered a little, and then felt a warm touch of air on her neck and jaw.

Almost like his hand, cupping her face. And then another warm burst of air, almost as if he was kissing her once, gently, on the lips.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I love you," his voice replied – his real voice. Not a memory, or a spark of her imagination. His real voice.

"I'll be waiting for you to come for me, Ani," she said. "Don't be long."

"When the time is right, angel."

Padmé smiled.

"The Force will be with you," Anakin said. "Always."

THE END

A brief Epilogue concludes the trilogy…