"At least I feel real again." Padme told the whited out hyperspace outside the port.

"There is nothing quite like a brush with death for focusing one's attention here and now." Anakin agreed.

She looked at him, sitting beside her in the pilot's seat. He grinned, suddenly looking amazingly like the mischievous little boy she remembered. "This is one sweet ship. Where'd you get her, Padme, and what do you do use her for?"

"Our usual supplier, Nubian Shipbuilders, customized by our own engineers of course." she answered. "She's a royal courier ship. These last few years she's spent most of her time ferrying my representatives to and from the moons."

"Negotiating with the miners." said Anakin.

"For all the good it's done." she agreed gloomily.

He shook his head. "They're being used, Padme, manipulated by the Sith. Just like the Trade Federation ten years ago." grimly. "And I thought Naboo would be safe."

"So did I." said Padme sadly. "Ani, I don't want to endanger your family."

"You won't." he assured her. "The only people, besides you and me, who know you're going to Tatooine are locked up under Master's eye."

"What about the ground crew?" she asked. He looked guilty and it dawned on her: "You mindtricked them didn't you?" she accused.

"Well, yes. But don't worry, if anybody notices the ship's missing Master will explain everything. They won't get into any trouble."

She frowned, she didn't like the idea of meddling with innocent people's minds. But - after all - this was an emergency. Ani'd really had no choice. "I understand."

Tatooine shone hot gold in the light of its twin suns, very different from Naboo's gentle greens and blues.

Anakin brought the ship down on a salt flat. All that showed of the homestead above ground was a small dome sheltering the entrance, the metal roof of the garage and a sunken courtyard. Padme followed him down the ramp, folded into a hooded cloak against the harsh desert sun. She saw a droid working nearby. "Ani, is that -?"

"Cee Threepio? It certainly is. Mom got some coverings for him. The plates don't all match but it's better than nothing."

Intent upon his acrimonious conversation with a tempermental vaporator the Droid not only failed to notice the ship landing, but didn't hear them approaching.

"Hello, Threepio." said Anakin.

Finally he looked up, and did a comical double-take. "Master Ani? And surely it's Miss Padme!"

She smiled. "Nice to see you again Threepio."

"Oh how exciting." he said happily. "We don't get much company way out here you know." raised his voice. "Mistress Shmi, Miss Beru, look who's here!"

And sure enough there was Shmi, running to Ani's arms, followed by a pretty girl with light brown hair braided and pinned in tight little knots atop her head. She and Padme smiled rather shyly at each other.

"You said you'd come back but so soon?" Shmi was saying to her son. "Where is Master Qui-Gon, is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid I'm the problem." Padme answered for him. "Just like the last time."

"You're a queen?" Beru asked, staring wide eyed at this girl, surely not much older than herself.

Padme nodded, a little ruefully. "I'm afraid so."

"Of course we've heard of Amidala of Naboo." said Cleig Lars, Shmi's husband. He was a burly, blunt featured man with piercing blue eyes that reminded Padme of somebody she couldn't quite place. His son Owen, Beru's fiancee, looked just like him.

Cleig sat at the head of the stone table in the open dining room, Shmi at it's foot, with Owen and Beru on one side and Anakin and Padme on the other.

Ani grinned at her. "There you are, Padme. You know you're famous when they've even heard of you on Tatooine!" turned back to his stepfather. "I don't believe there'll be any danger, neither the Hutts nor the assassin knows she's here. But if you'd rather we could stay at the old hermitage on the edge of the dune sea."

"Don't talk nonsense, son." Cleig answered gruffly. "Family's family, and the Hutts don't care what happens in the back country."

Padme just hoped Anakin was right about there being no risk. Logically she didn't see how there could be - but she wasn't feeling terribly logical, more scared and hunted. She'd thought Naboo was safe too.

"It won't be for long," Anakin was saying confidently. "According to the Chancellor Obi-Wan's making real progress tracking down whoever's behind the assassins."

"Who?" Cleig asked in an oddly strained voice. His expression was strange too - stunned, but grieved or angry under it, Padme couldn't decide which.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." Ani explained, eyeing his stepfather curiously. "Another Jedi Knight and a friend of mine. Do you know him?"

"He's my son." Cleig said flatly. Continued bitterly as they all gaped at him. "And no, I don't know him. The Jedi took him away from us when he was a baby."

"You never told me I had a brother!" said Owen.

"You don't." his father answered. "He's not ours any more. Your mother and I didn't see any point in talking about him since we'd never see him again."

"You could." Both Larses looked at Anakin. "There's no rule against Jedi contacting their families once they've become Knights and many do. I'm sure Obi-Wan would want to meet you both."

"He has your eyes." Padme said, suddenly realizing why Cleig's clear blue gaze had seemed so incongruously familiar.

His face twisted in something like pain. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

Anakin nodded understanding. "We can't do anything about it now anyway."

"Here let me help you with those." Padme scooped the top layer of dishes off the pile in Beru's arms and followed her into the kitchen to help load them in the washer. She could feel the other girl eyeing her when she wasn't looking and finally caught her at it. Beru blushed and Padme laughed.

"Don't look so surprised. I know how to wash dishes, and cook and clean and sew and all the rest."

Beru looked bewildered. "But...but you're a queen."

"Yes I am, but royalty on Naboo isn't like on, oh - say Alderaan or Omuud, you aren't born to it. I was just a farm girl like you."

Beru looked even more confused. "I don't understand."

"It is a little complicated." Padme conceded. The dishwasher finished cycling. She opened the door and started to unload it, handing the dishes to Beru to be put away. "You see thousands of years ago Naboo was a sanctuary planet, a place where nobles and royals could go to escape their enemies. Unfortunately they brought their feuds with them and all the fighting nearly destroyed our world.

"So finally the people, and a good many of the nobles and royals too, rose up against the troublemakers and defeated them and we set up a new democratic government." she grinned at Beru. "But it was boring. We missed the good things about having royalty, the color and pageantry. So we brought it back, but in a different form; nowadays you go to a special school to learn how to be royal, then you run for election to a throne, and if you win you rule for ten or fifteen years then abdicate.

"That's why our royalty is always very young." she continued seriously. "Royal duty is a terrible burden and the idea is to get it over with while you're young and have the rest of your life for yourself."

Beru put the last dishes away, took two damp cloths from the sink and handed one to Padme. "But how do you decide who goes to this school?"

"Recommendations are made to a board of former royals." Padme answered as the two girls began wiping down the counters. "They study the candidates and vote on them, and then send a letter the parents offering a scholarship to the Royal Academy. They usually accept, it's a great honor to be asked and a very good education too. But a lot of students don't last out the first year."

"Really?"

"Really. It's hard, especially when you're little. You have to wear formal robes practically all the time and you must always be polite and gracious no matter how you feel. The classes in etiquette and deportment are murder, not to mention the history, political science, diplomacy, psychology and about a hundred other things."

"You have to have a bit of the playactor in you to stand it." Padme continued thoughtfully, handing her dirty cloth to Beru who put it with hers in a sort of mini-vaporator to reclaim the water. "Dedication alone isn't enough. Part of you has to enjoy the dressing up and the ceremonies and speechmaking."

"Do you?" Beru asked intrigued.

"Not so much anymore." Padme admitted. "It's really begun to wear on me over the last year or so. Which should be all right, since custom says it's time for me to abdicate, except that I don't see how I can between our own local problems and secession crisis. It would feel like deserting my post, and not be very fair to my successor either."

"How long have you been queen?" Beru asked.

"Ten years now." Padme sighed. "I guess I can put off abdicating another year or two if I absolutely have to without trashing our constitution. But I can't say I like the idea."

Beru frowned. "Ten years? How old are you?"

"Twenty-four, I was fourteen when I was elected queen."

The other girl's eyes went round. "Fourteen! How old were you when you went to this school?"

"Six. That's the usual age, six or seven."

"You're kidding!"

Padme shook her head. "No. I told you the idea was to do your duty young and get it over with."

"But six!"

"It's easier to adjust when you're very young too." Padme explained. "Somebody your age, who's used to a whole different way of life, would have a terrible time. My sisters are always telling me they can't see how I stand it, but it's not so bad if you've been living the royal life almost as long as you can remember."

"Sounds like the Jedi."

Padme blinked. "What?"

"That's just what Anakin said about Jedi training, that it had to start as early as possible so the acolyte would have less to unlearn." said Beru.

"It's not the same thing at all." Padme assured her earnestly. "Jedi are much more disciplined than we are. And we can go home on visits they can't."

"No." Beru agreed quietly. "I've always felt so sorry for Shmi, losing Anakin like that, but at least she had a chance to know him, and for him to know her. What happened to Cleig and his first wife was much worse I think."

Padme bit her lip. "I know what you mean. It was hard enough on my parents, sending me off to live in Theed even though they could come and see me. To have to give up your baby must be awful. But it's easier on the child, a baby won't be homesick or cry for her mother at night."

"Did you?"

"Oh yes, all my first year. And I know how hard it was for Anakin to leave Shmi."

"Obi-Wan never had anything to miss." Beru said quietly. "Maybe that's worse."

The idea struck Padme with almost painful force. Was never having a mother worse than losing her? "Maybe it is, I don't know."

"What's he like?"

"Obi-Wan?" Padme thought. "Not much like Owen or Cleig to look at, except for the eyes, a completely different kind of face. He wears his hair long and has a beard like Master Jinn. Very cool and quiet on the surface but incredibly intense underneath. He has a nice dry sense of humor, though I've never seen much of it. But then I only see him when I'm his assignment and we're both in trouble. I don't know what he's like off duty. Anakin would though." she remembered what Ani had told her on Naboo. "Anakin says Obi-Wan's a very great Jedi, he admires him immensely."

"I'd like to meet him." said Beru, then bit her lip and looked towards the kitchen door. Cleig's voice and Anakin's drifted faintly down the passage from the living room. "But I don't know if it's really a good idea for him to come. There's no way to make up for all the time he and Cleig and Owen have lost. Maybe seeing each other would just upset them all."

Padme tried to imagine how cool, collected, always controlled Obi-Wan would feel about meeting his long lost father and brother, but couldn't. She simply didn't know him well enough. "I guess they'll have to decide for themselves if they want to risk it.