Back home on our islet we fed the little ones bread smothered in jam and honey then put them down for a nap in Yoda's house - which was just big enough for all of them thanks to the sleeping loft, a normal feature of Whill cottages that had been left out of mine for the sake of headroom. Leaving Yedda to watch over the children Yoda, Raj and I withdrew to my cottage to hear Obi-Wan's news. It wasn't good.

"We gathered some fifty Jedi for the rescue," he told us, "nearly half were killed but I'm sure there are others out there."

"Hiding they are, as instructed, I hope." said Yoda. Obi-Wan hesitated, Yoda closed his eyes in resignation. "Some will not hide." It was not a question.

"Seig and Tygan are recruiting a force to challenge the new order." Obi-Wan admitted. "Many of the others have joined them, including Ryma and Ken-Gon - that's my wife and son." he added to me.

My stomach cramped in dread and Yoda clearly shared my misgivings. "Succeed they cannot," he said shaking his head, "not without the Star."

"We can't know that for sure, Master." Obi-Wan said quietly. "They feel they must try."

Yoda sighed heavily, the big ears drifting downwards. "Understand I do." he said sadly. "Servants of the Republic they are, guardians of peace and justice."

More war. More death. "The people won't follow them." I said. "They're tired, they want the peace and stability the Emperor promises - and they don't care about the price."

"Someday they will." Obi-Wan said gently, but with conviction. Then he turned to Yoda. "Seig knows the odds are against them, Master, but his feelings tell him it is worth attempting. At the very least they may lay the groundwork for a future resistance."

Slowly Yoda nodded. "True. True that is." then he gave Obi-Wan one of his piercing looks. "Something else there is." again it was no question.

"Yes, Master." he answered, Jedi control cracked and Obi-Wan looked as miserable as an ordinary human being. "Vader survived. We encountered him during the rescue."

It took me a moment to recognize the name - then I did and my heart gave a sickening lurch. "Anakin is alive!"

"No, Padme." Obi-Wan said firmly. "Anakin Skywalker is dead. Vader is a thing - more machine than man. An evil, twisted cyborg like Grievous."

"Your husband he is not." Yoda said sternly. "Forget that and endanger yourself and your children you will."

Then Obi-Wan added with grim gentleness: "Padme, Vader thinks you're dead. He believes he killed you and he's glad of it. You betrayed him and he hates your memory."

I bowed my head, fighting back tears. I believed him but I also thought - bitterly - that it was cruel of him to tell me such things. But then the other, sensible Padme who also lives in my skin reminded me that Obi-Wan was saying these hurtful things for my own good. I must not nurse false hopes of reconciliation and reunion. I must accept that my Anakin was as lost to me as if he truly were dead. The twins moved uneasily in my womb, upset by the turmoil in my mind. I struggled to calm myself for their sakes.

"I understand." I choked out. Obi-Wan and Yoda exchanged sad looks and said no more.

Raj, Obi-Wan and baby Mei-Qan slept in my cottage that night. Yoda somehow managed to squeeze himself into his own with the younglings. It was clear we were going to need much more room.

The next morning Yedda and I emerged from our house, fishing poles and baskets in hand, to see a large number of Whills unloading three big rafts moored to the bank between Yoda's cottage and our own. They made piles of long wooden poles, and of shorter flexible strips with the bark still on them, and with shovels almost as big as themselves heaped up a regular mountain of wet gray clay.

Yoda had emerged from his cottage to supervise the unloading, with the younglings watching bright eyed behind him. I turned to Yedda, "What -?"

"For the new cottage." she answered, then frowned a little. "More than one we might need."

Definitely.

The raftsmen finished their unloading, exchanged a few words with Yoda then departed. The children promptly made a beeline for the mound of clay. The old Master, instead of calling them back came to join Yedda and me.

"Another cottage we will build for Obi-Wan and little Mei-Qan." he said to us. "A room we will add to mine for the younglings." ears and eyebrows lifted as if asking for comments.

"That sounds reasonable." I said, eyes on the children now happily making hand and foot prints all over the smooth bank of clay and clawing up bits to mold into various shapes.

Yoda followed my gaze. "No harm are they doing." he said tranquilly. "Need to play and explore new things, Younglings do."

"Yes, Master." I agreed dutifully but dubiously.

I had always imagined the Jedi as being very strict and demanding with their apprentices but Yoda and Obi-Wan showed no sign of it that day. Baby Mei-Qan promptly joined the other children on the clay mound while her grandfather and Yoda picked a site for the new house and dug up a circle of grass for its foundation, then dug another against the rear wall of Yoda's cottage. Yedda and I got on with our fishing but Raj promptly joined in the fun as the younglings slid down the clay hill to the detriment of their clothes and faces and hair.

Yoda didn't seem to notice the clayey condition of his padawans when he called them over to do their exercises but duly admired the handfuls of models they had to show him before settling down to business. Little Mei-Qan, gray and glistening from head to foot with her hair sticking up in spikes, remained alone on the mound intently fitting her tiny hands and feet into the multitudinous prints.

I walked over to Obi-Wan, sitting cross-legged in the grass watching poles and sticks and clay models bob through the air over the intent heads of Master and pupils. "Your granddaughter," I told him, "is a mess."

He glanced casually towards the mound. "So she is." he agreed serenely, then arched a brow at me. "Does it matter?"

"I guess not." I sighed and sat down next to him. "It's just at my school they were very strict about being neat and well groomed at all times."

"The Naboo Academy was training royalty, naturally appearances mattered a great deal." he pointed out reasonably. "We are training Jedi and appearances matter very little to us."

"So I see. Looks like today's going to be a wash day." I glanced at him sidelong. "So, Obi-Wan, what Ancient Master in his infinite wisdom decided white was an appropriate color for Jedi tunics?"

He laughed. "I have no idea. But it's not a hard and fast rule. We can dress the Younglings in a more practical color if you prefer."

"Like gray maybe?" I suggested.

Yoda, like Obi-Wan, apparently had no objection to his pupils shedding chips of dried clay for the rest of the day but he bowed good humoredly to my insistence that they wash.

This was done by dumping buckets of channel water over giggling children as they gleefully rubbed at each others faces. Their hair was definitely going to require further attention but that would have to come later as we had a busy afternoon ahead of us. After drying the children off Yedda and I dressed them, after a fashion, in oddments left over from my dressmaking.

By the time we'd finished neighbors had arrived from all the nearby islets and the house raising was well underway. Our youngling Jedi were promptly set to weaving mats of rushes alongside a bevy of young Whills.

A thick layer of clay was spread over the bare earth then covered with smoldering charcoal from Yedda's stove and Yoda's. While the clay floors fired a circle of posts was hammered into the ground around each and other poles lashed to their tops and bent to form the rafters of the domed roofs. Wooden hoops were tied into place to form window and door frames and then everybody set to work weaving the wicker strips between posts and frames to form the walls.

My job was to pour tea or beer for the workers and pass out rolls stuffed with fish and or vegetables. When the plastering of the walls began the younglings joined in with a will, and soon were almost as bedaubed as before their baths.

Yoda came over for a cup of tea. "Wasted your efforts are," he said, eyes twinkling, as I poured. "Waited till evening you should have."

"Not at all." I said stoutly. "At least there'll be only one layer to remove, not two. And they would have needed a hot bath anyway."

Ears and eyebrows rose. "Hot bath? No tub big enough do we have."

"Oh yes we do." I said, and refused to say one word more.

After the thatching was completed our guests departed with warm thanks from all. Then the Jedi all disappeared inside the new buildings to paint the walls and lay rush mats, and I set to work on my own project.

By the time the younglings emerged, now spattered with whitewash on top of the clay, I was all set. "Children," I called, "come here please." One thing you've got to say for Jedi training, it certainly inculcates obedience; all five promptly trotted over to me, eyes bright with questions but asking none.

"Now we are going to take a nice hot bath." I told them, and herded them around the back of my cottage, trailed by curious adult Jedi, to behold a pool full of gently steaming water with bowls of soap and heaps of towels set around its edges.

Yedda gasped. "Padme, our beer vat that is!"

"I know." I answered calmly. "It had to be thoroughly scrubbed out anyway."

Obi-Wan shook his head with a wry smile but Yoda laughed out loud. "Inventive and ingenious our Mistress Skywalker is."

"Thank you, Master." I said demurely, but with a pleasant feeling of having gotten the better of my wise and venerable friend.