Sabé read through the notes she'd made in the briefing request Luke had given her that morning. This plan of his and Leia's was insane—as his security, she was horrified. As his aunt, she was proud. Of course this was what would happen when those two met each other for the first time.

The Millaflower Movement weren't even a radical movement as far as Rebel cells went. She'd been on contract with the Ghosts on Lothal, the Free Ryloth movement, Gerrera's Partisans, and most of the more centralised, interconnected cells. The Millaflowers didn't target Imperial refineries or factories or weapons development—they protested almost daily outside the plasma extraction plants on the Great Plains, but no military strikes had been taken against them. They didn't have the resources.

As far as Rebel movements went, it was a pretty safe one for Luke to get involved it. If he hadn't gone into politics he probably would have been a leading member.

Even so, she didn't have any Naboo-specific contacts with them. It was possible that one of the other handmaidens knew them, but the topic of the Empire, or rather the Empress, was a touchy one. Sabé was the only one who actively worked against her so, as far as she knew. Plenty of the other women quietly disapproved but would be loyal if asked of them. Others were more reticent to share their opinion with Sabé, which could mean absolutely anything.

She'd go through another route, then. The Millaflowers weren't associated with the larger rebellion—were very reluctant to, in fact—but she knew one person who'd at least know how to get in contact with them. From there, Luke's name alone would have to do the work. He was a popular anti-Imperial candidate whenever he ran for elections, and when Representative Maya had been murdered for speaking in the Millaflowers' favour on the council, he'd spoken out to condemn the act. That might get them through the door.

Her Rebellion-issue comlink was at the very bottom of her bag, hidden in the lining. She switched it on and contacted Ahsoka.

It buzzed for a few moments, then a little longer. While she was waiting, she went over every corner of her office, just in case. No bugs. She drew the curtains, then she sat down at her desk to wait. If it rang out, it wouldn't be the first time, and she'd have to try again later.

Eventually, she was sitting still for so long that the automatic lights switched off, plunging her into darkness. Several minutes after that, the buzzing stopped abruptly. The blue Fulcrum symbol, two parallel lines with a triangular notch in them halfway down, with two diamonds alongside, materialised instead of a hologram.

"Is this an update on the sun?" the modulated voice asked. Ahsoka knew the only person who could be calling from this comlink—right to the point.

"Yes and no. I need to establish contact with the Millaflower Movement on Naboo."

A moment of silence was the only surprise that Ahsoka showed, through the heavy layers of encryption. "You are both getting involved on the ground, then?"

"He would like to. As would the moon."

"We saw that they had started collaborating. Have there been any notable developments?"

"No signs of danger, no. Not of the sort you're thinking. I'm concerned about ideological developments, not metaphysical ones."

"Neither would be surprising."

"No. But they're both dangerous. And inconvenient."

"I disagree. This… is a good time for this. We have been consulting about their development and now is probably the time we need them to get more involved."

"You want to train them?" She paused. "They're both right under our enemies' gazes. Now is not the time."

"If they're as dedicated to their roles as they seem, then they'll be under our enemies' gazes for the foreseeable future. And our enemies' gazes are astute. If they're not trained, they'll eventually give themselves away."

Sabé chewed on her lip. She couldn't argue with that. Nor could she argue that Luke's uncanniness was only growing more noticeable. It hadn't been as obvious as Leia's when they were children, but compounded with political training, his ability to tell when his opponents were lying was growing dangerous.

And Biggs was back.

Biggs, whom Luke had saved with the Force.

The more danger the twins were put in, how much more likely was it that something like that would happen again?

She let out a breath. "Let me talk to him about it first. Break the news gently. It won't be easy for them to understand, but he won't mind you training him." The number of times Darred had had to pretend he tossed him the hydrospanner…

"I won't be training them."

"What?" Sabé nearly dropped the comlink. "Then who will?"

"I will send you instructions for how to contact the Millaflower Movement. But contact instructions are all I have for you. They dislike collaboration with the larger rebellion, despite our efforts; perhaps the sun and moon can do something to change that. You should be able to set up a meeting to discuss this—especially with the sun's reputation on-planet. You can expect the details within the hour."

"Who will, Fulcrum?"

Even through the modulation, she could hear Ahsoka's wince. "A good teacher—a dedicated one. He's protected Luke before. He will protect him again."

"Him?"

"He's already on the planet—he intends to make contact at the Festival."

"Without briefing me?"

"That man's philosophy has always been more about forgiveness than permission."

Sabé hissed out her breath between her teeth. "What guarantee do I have that he won't make a shipwreck of protecting him? Again?"

"It has been ten years. And Vader's actions were not his fault—not twenty years ago, not ten years ago."

"I don't want to hear it. If he fails—"

"Then we will all have a very big problem on our hands," Ahsoka agreed cheerily. She disconnected the call.

Sabé threw down her comlink and buried her face in her hands. The movement alerted the lights to the fact she was still there, and they flickered on, bathing her reality in harsh, no-nonsense white.

Running her hand through her loose hair, she considered her options. She could say no. She could veto this. At the end of the day, she was still the woman who had successfully protected Luke for over ten years.

But she wouldn't.

The Force was a part of Luke's heritage, whether she wanted to admit it or not. There was as much of his father in him as his mother, and she was not equipped to keep the father in check. Owen Lars, when he'd been briefing her on his nephew, had made that clear.

And she'd promised Luke she would be open with him. Honest. Hiding a piece of him that was as essential as oxygen flew in the face of that in an unnecessarily cruel way.

She wanted him to be happy. She could tolerate Kenobi's presence for that reason and that reason alone.

Running errands like this was technically for aides, but Luke's assistants were all taking time off—as well they should. He didn't have handmaidens, since that was a tradition usually only used by the reigning monarch, but he had a handful of part-time aides who were mainly friends he'd made while studying politics at university. They were off enjoying the chance to be at home before they committed to a much longer stay on Coruscant, and Luke really didn't mind handling chores like this himself.

This one was just to drop by the Queen's administrative offices to make sure her handmaidens received his reports on the Senate, and his notes on the draft of her speech that she'd sent to him. It was a quick affair. The youngest handmaiden—her name was Alicya, he believed—met him and they discussed it briefly, before he slipped back to his own office on the other side of the Palace gardens.

He took the walk slowly. His comlink was sitting on his desk, so any urgent messages could wait for a moment while he enjoyed his stroll through the gardens. The temperature was soaring as summer approached—Naboo's axis didn't tilt much, but enough that one half of the year was much balmier than the other—and he stopped to sit down in the cool shade of a perlote tree that had been transplanted here from the swamps. He tilted his head back and just breathed. Life thrummed around him, and he could almost see it. The birds, the insects, the trees that were hundreds of years old, their gnarled roots just below his feet.

It was tranquil, here.

With the Palace shielding the gardens on two sides, there wasn't much wind, but what little there was whistled through the trees and against the windows that lined the gardens. Luke had the feeling that something was wrong long before he noticed the change in that wind—the temperature dipped, and something tugged deep in his chest. He opened his eyes.

Seeing Vader standing on the little bridge over the artificial brook, half shielded from him by foliage, watching him, nearly made him faint.

Now that he listened, he could hear that respirator's rasp on the wind. Vader, to his horror, took his attention as an invitation, and approached. When it was clear that Vader was going to try to sit on the wrought iron bench beside him, Luke scooted along as far as he could to make space.

Vader less sat down than fell onto the bench, and Luke tried not to jump up and run for it. They weren't touching, but there were only a few centimetres between Vader's large arm and Luke's puffy sleeves. It was far too intimate for his liking.

Vader did not seem to pick up on this at all. "These gardens are as beautiful as I remember them," he intoned, turning to look at Luke. It was unfair to judge him based on something he needed to breathe—or perhaps it was, considering it seemed to have been specifically designed to be intimidating—but the mask made that seem all the more forward. Instead of turning only the side of his head, he had to face Luke head on, with the full force of his attention.

"That would make sense," Luke said. "As I said yesterday, the Palace has a policy of maintaining appearances. It has looked like this for centuries, and any changes must be documented carefully, with extensive holographic evidence and justifications."

"That explains the similarities."

When had Vader been to Naboo before? As far as Luke knew, he'd never made a visit in an official capacity. He must have been here under a different name, in a different life.

"Can I help you, Lord Vader?"

"No." Vader's tone was such that that seemed the end of it, until he continued. "But it has come to my attention that we have never had a conversation."

Luke swallowed. "We have, surely? I've spoken with you before."

"In a far more stilted capacity. Yes. But, as my wife insists, we are family." He looked Luke up and down again. A headache pounded behind Luke's eyes, and he brushed it away, shaking slightly. Satisfaction, tremulous hope, roared at the back of his mind, but he didn't have the faintest idea what he could be satisfied or hopeful about. "You are my… nephew. You have spoken with my wife—and she hopes to speak with you more, in a less formal setting. I was hoping we could talk."

How was this his life? "Of course, Lord Vader," he said.

"You may dispense with my title."

"Right, Vader." If Vader took the same step that Amidala had taken and asked him to call him uncle, Luke might actually scream. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I am under the impression that you enjoy working with mechanics."

Luke nodded, suspicious. "I do. If I hadn't become a senator, I would have probably joined Uncle Darred's sector."

"What does your uncle do?"

"They make toys. Hardy ones, for young children who can't have droids yet." There was no response, so he added, "I think they're working on a toy stormtrooper design. Programmed with the battle movements of various famous battles, and so on. They're making an entire squad which will be able to act out the Pacification of Mimban."

Darred hated that project. He'd admitted that after the lunch the other day—their secret showstopper this year was nothing but propaganda. He worked so hard to get it dropped that if he hadn't worked there so long, he would probably have lost his job by now. Arguments that they would only be contributing to Imperial brainwashing of children were meaningless against the promised profits.

"A valiant toy. Will you be receiving one?"

Luke blinked. "My lord, I'm twenty-two."

Vader started, slightly, then looked Luke up and down. Luke wondered how old Vader had assumed he was. He was a senator.

"Have you ever played with his toys?" Vader pressed.

"When I first came to Naboo, yeah. To help me settle in, he gave me a waterproof mechanical colo claw fish. I named it Munch. I was afraid of water, and swimming lessons, so I would put Munch in the water first. He'd swim around in it, scouting it out to make sure it was safe."

Vader's hand, sitting on the edge of the bench, clenched. The metal whined under his grip.

"Of course," he said. "You mentioned that you grew up on Tatooine."

His sudden intensity startled Luke—and frightened him, more than a little. "Yeah," he said. "I know you've been there before."

"I have," Vader replied, his tone clipped.

Luke closed his eyes to steady himself, but that didn't help. All he saw was fire. His face, his arm, his hand, were burning all over again.

"It was lovely to talk to you," he said abruptly. "But this was only meant to be a brief break. I have to get back to work."

"Luke—"

Luke flexed his hand. Vader's gaze flicked to it, but he didn't seem to understand its significance.

"Thank you, Lord Vader," he bit out, and then he was gone.

Vader, mercifully, didn't follow.

Pooja was wandering the Palace idly, trying to refamiliarise herself with the building she'd once worked in, when she saw Luke in the gardens.

He was meandering through them almost in a trance, like she'd seen him do before. When he sat down to enjoy the peace, she smiled. He used to sit for hours in one space, if he was in the right mood, just feeling the world go around. Luke had always seemed more in tune with things than anyone else she'd known.

She saw him notice something and frowned, doing her own double take when she spotted Vader approaching. Whatever obsession that man had with her brother, she didn't know. At least it didn't seem harmful.

They clearly weren't meant to meet here—Luke was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, but he was startled, and not in a pleasant way. Had Vader just interrupted his only moment of peace? Or…

Something chilled her.

Had Luke been meant to meet someone in the gardens? If so, who? Organa?

Or, as the Empress had implied, someone even more treasonous?

She worked her jaw. She had been trying to keep tabs on him since they got here, but with no luck so far. If he was conducting clandestine meetings, she would have no way of finding out. And finding out was what their aunt had charged her with.

If Luke was in the gardens now, distracted by Vader…

She was moving before the thought consolidated in her head. Luke had aides, she knew, but there was no way he hadn't given them leave while they were all at home. His office would be empty while Vader tormented him.

It was an agonising few minutes, trying to race there without being suspicious. But Luke was in the middle of the dense gardens, farther away than she was. She just had to ride the turbolift down several floors and then she was there.

It used to be her office. She still knew it well. Had Luke changed the code to unlock the door? A test tap proved that he had.

She cursed, then tried other combination he might have chosen. His own birthday? Interesting number orders that he and her dad used to have fun with? It was probably that, knowing him, but she didn't know any. Out of desperation, she punched in her own birthday.

It worked.

She was oddly touched.

Luke's office looked much the same as when she'd last been in it, except it was much neater, cleaner, and tidier. Any senator's had to be, but Luke was always fussy about dust.

His files, however, were not so spick and span. There was no discernible order to them, and she scanned them in frustration. What might be incriminating? Where would he hide it if he were colluding with Rebels? There were a number of hidey holes in the office, but either Luke didn't know about them or hadn't found anything to use them for yet, because they were empty. Even the one in the desk chair itself.

The view from the office window looked out onto the garden, and she glanced out to check how she was doing. Luke was standing up, storming away from Vader—he looked upset. That was a fair reaction to Vader, but she was running out of time.

Where? What? How?

Why was she spying on her brother in the first place?

Why couldn't it be that they were just on the same side, and she could trust him, the way they'd trusted each other wholly for the last ten years?

She was about to either abort, or burst into tears, or both, when there was a loud buzz. She froze.

His comlink was on his desk. She'd seen that, but she hadn't bothered hacking into it—he was far more stringent about security on that thing than his office. Same with his datapad.

But whatever message that had just been sent to him was sent to both his devices, and she could read it faintly on the screen.

It was from Sabé. Pooja scowled—and hated that that was her first reaction, when that woman had been a part of their family as long as Luke had. But she read through the preview that was shown.

Arranged the meeting you wanted. I'll give you the details later.

It was a perfectly innocent, non-incriminating message. That was what made it so strange.

If it was an innocent meeting, why not set the time and place in a message? It would be more efficient. Surely the only reason she and Luke would have for not wanting to have digital evidence of this meeting would be that it was a clandestine one.

Something was going on. Luke was meeting with someone he shouldn't. And yet because Sabé and Luke were careful like this, she didn't know where, when, or even with whom.

She took a deep breath. Calmed down.

She just had to tail Luke a bit more effectively. Keep an eye on him. He would confide in her eventually, surely? They were close. She'd been the closest in age to him when he moved to Naboo—Ryoo had already moved out—and they'd stayed close since then.

They were close. She didn't need to spy on him.

She was spying on him anyway.

When Luke returned to his office, shaken and rattled, Pooja had already slipped away, rattled for an entirely different reason.

Once Luke got Sabé's message, he was excited—and apprehensive—all afternoon. All evening, even, until he got back to their rooms and Sabé could tell him about it in person. She promptly did.

That night. One am. On the walk along the cliffs under the Palace, below the waterfall, where the noise would drown out the words.

The moment Sabé told him, she headed towards Leia's quarters to tell her, as well, while Luke planned.

They'd have to meet at the start of the walk. There was one path from just outside the Palace gardens—it was a popular tourist walk, skirting the Palace and the waterfalls—but there'd be guards in the gardens at night, and anyone could see them from the windows if the moons were bright. The other entrance to the path was on the other side and held the same problem.

But there was a secret passage from the Palace basement that led onto the path. It was watched, of course. It had to be; it was too close to the Palace to go unmonitored. But it was monitored only by security holocams, and those could be switched off.

Luke and Leia went in alone at midnight, with Sabé standing watch over the door behind them.

Both of them were dressed in utterly nondescript clothes. Even Leia's pilots wore white, which tended to stick out at night, so she was covering the too-large white jumpsuit she'd borrowed from Evaan with a khaki jacket, while Luke had borrowed a dark grey tunic of Sabé's with a blaster holster built in. He'd wiped his makeup off for this trip as well. When they walked through the secret tunnel, and Leia lifted her glowrod high enough to see his face for the first time, she flinched.

He tried not to react.

"Luke…" she murmured. She continued on but kept throwing glances back at him. "Are you—"

"It's an old scar," he said. "I usually keep it covered. Appearances are important on Naboo."

"That's not how it should be. My mother has pulmonodes—she fell from Appenza Peak during her Trial of the Body—and they're a badge of pride. She survived."

"I survived," Luke said. "Biggs did too. I don't regret what happened. But it's still best if I keep it covered."

"Who is it best for?"

"Turn left."

Leia jerked her head up just in time to avoid slamming into the rock where the tunnel turned. She let out a soft laugh. "I'd never have thought there were tunnels under Naboo."

"There's plenty of things under the surface of Naboo. Sea monsters, plasma mines, the bones of past rulers…" He was only half joking. There was a tomb somewhere under the Palace where the skulls of queens used to be interred, back when the monarchy had been hereditary instead of elected, but it wasn't on this path.

"Are we walking above plasma mines now?" She glanced down at her feet. There was nothing to be seen—just soft rock.

"No. They dried up and moved elsewhere. You'll mainly find them between the swamps and the Great Plains now. Once they were gone, the natural defence of the waterfall and its proximity to the river meant that the Palace got built here."

Leia paused as the tunnel came to an end, and they edged onto the walkway along the cliff face, the waterfalls up ahead roaring. Her hand settled on the railing. "The waterfalls must cause significant erosion."

"The royal architects and engineers prevent that. Continuity is important."

"They'll fight that hard against change? Even against nature?" Leia stopped, giving him a quizzical look.

"It's important that some things remain the same."

"Everything has to change at some point. The next generation will always have different ideas to the last one."

Luke shrugged. "I don't disagree." The sand dunes of home never stayed the same. There were geographies lost and found every day, there. "Listen."

They stopped talking long enough to notice that the distant roar had grown into a cacophonous one; they hadn't realised they were near shouting until then.

"That's the great waterfall," Luke called. "We're almost there."

They came to the balcony they were meant to meet at a few minutes later. Luke made sure they switched off their glowrods before turning the corner—if someone in Theed or, Shiraya forbid, the Palace looked out at night and saw lights glowing halfway down the waterfall, it would be obvious there was a meeting going on. The light of the three moons filtered through the water was enough to see by—barely—once their eyes adjusted. Luke crept out onto the balcony, staring at the furious rush of water that cloaked them.

When the representative they were meeting with arrived, he turned to face her just as she turned the corner. The roaring was loud in his ears, but he still heard her faint gasp of surprise at the sight of his scar.

"The moons are lovely tonight," he offered by way of greeting.

She stepped forwards and lowered her hood. She was a young woman his and Leia's age, with short black hair and a dark cloak concealing her figure. He couldn't tell if she was armed or not, which he supposed was the point. His blaster in his holster was a little more obvious, but he made no moves towards it.

"They're lovelier when they're full," she replied, completing the code phrase. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Senator Naberrie. Senator Organa." She nodded to Leia, who had sidled up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Luke. It was comforting; they drew strength from each other. "Your presence on Naboo has been sorely missed."

"My apologies for my absence."

"You didn't have much say in it." Her tone was professionally neutral. "You can call me Locap."

Luke nodded. It was the name for the plant the Gungans used to extract plasma and stabilise it—not an actual name, but an auspicious codename.

"I understand you would like to get involved."

"We would," Leia confirmed. "While we are here—and in the future. We have connections and resources we can provide. We have access to places and people others may not have. And we can simply cause a distraction where needed."

Luke said, "I think it's safe to assume that you will be planning a strike during the chaos of the Festival of Light. I can tell you that Queen Dalrana is anticipating that, but she is more worried about public unrest and riots between Amidalans and yourselves. If you focus your attention on being subtle, and making your statements through your strikes, her security won't affect you. But I can still give you the plans for both the Naboo soldiers and, hopefully, the Imperial ones."

"Sometimes I think Dalrana is a sympathiser herself," Locap observed.

"Certainly, a sympathiser to your goals, if not your cause. But she has a dangerous line to walk, with the Empire."

"And you don't, Senators?"

Leia smiled. "We're walking it a little more recklessly."

Locap's passive expressive did crack a smile, there, before she sealed it off again. "Alright," she said. "We can't give you any details of our workings or our operations. Not yet."

"We understand that."

"But your reputations precede you. We'd be happy to have you on board." She pulled two comlinks—tiny ones, small enough to conceal under makeup quite easily—out of the pockets of her robes. "These are encrypted. Familiarise yourselves with them. I will coordinate with our command structure to see what we are able to tell you about the event at the Festival and later strikes, and you will receive contact from us here. Ensure they never fall into anyone else's hands—destroy them if you have to. We are able to destroy them from a distance if needed."

Luke nodded and took one. Leia took the other.

"We have the resources and the plan set out already. But we do need a distraction. If you can keep as many eyes on the evening ball at the Palace as possible… I presume you will be attending?"

"We will."

"Make sure no one from the Empress's retinue leaves before midnight. Including the Empress."

"You're planning something directly to do with her?" Luke was surprised.

"We have made many pragmatic strikes in the past. Now it's time for a political statement. She's come back to Naboo for the first time in twenty years. We want to remind her she's not welcome."

Luke thought of his grandparents. His family. Their stance on this.

Padmé was welcome. Empress Amidala was not.

"We'll do everything we can," Leia said. Luke nodded his agreement.

"Good. Afterwards we can talk more in depth about getting involved—perhaps you can meet the leadership. We've been focused on grassroots movements but connecting more deeply with other cells is a contentious topic." She glanced at Leia. "If this goes well, you may be a powerful spokesperson for greater collaboration."

"That collaboration is why I suggested we get involved."

Locap raised an eyebrow. "You suggested it?" She looked at Luke in surprise.

"I've been hesitant," he admitted. "Representative Maya was my friend. No matter how often I considered it, I felt I could do more good without risking so much."

"And now?"

"Now I'm not on Naboo. And the Empire out there is even worse than it is at home."

Locap looked at his cheek. Her knowing look told him she'd done her research. "I thought you'd have known that already, Senator."