Okay. I'm sorry! I know that doesn't make up for not updating in like, three weeks. The first week I was lazy second traveling. I know I'm a sporadic updater, but a review would be nice, even if just to say you hate my guts. It would be nice to know somebody is still out there.

The trip to Corascant in Ruwee and Jobal's ship does not take nearly as long as I would have liked. Two hours spent huddled in discomfort, listening to the moans of a dying man. Two hours watching his wife wipe away blood, and sweat from his brow. And two hours holding Luke, feeling his warm hand curl around my thumb.

Two hours.

I step out of the ship alone, leaving Luke with his grandparents. The atmosphere is thin, and I tire quickly and sink into the reddish brown sand by the river where we landed. My eyes scan the horizon, but find no sign of a ship. Well, I should have expected that. Naboo is not known for getting things done quickly.

A puff of gray dust shoots up over the crest of a hill about a quarter mile away. Impulsively, I stand up, pulse quickening, panicking. I don't know…I don't know. I don't want to be arrested. I don't know what to do.

But—why should I stay here when they arrive? Why shouldn't I leave now and let them find him and care for him, and I can go free?

Because I need to talk to Padme. So she can understand. Because I have to make sure Naboo will do what I need.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I stride towards the hill. A pungent breeze slowly filters through the mask, causing me to cough slightly. By this time I am very near to the hill, and a silhouette walks around the front. As it draws nearer, I see it's Obi-Wan.

As he approaches, I can see that he is frightened. Which can only be a bad thing, as in my experience it takes quite a bit to unnerve Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He sees me as well, and fairly hurtles towards me, stopping, panting and out of breath, about three feet away.

"Anakin," he yells as soon as he recovers, "What the Force do you think you are doing?"

"I—"

"It's all over the news, of course," he says, much more calmly, as though a minute ago he wasn't screaming his lungs out at me, "'Masked man holds family hostage; wants army recruits—' And then I saw you were going to meet with them—are you aware that the medical staff are also trained as police officers? Anakin, they aren't going to just calmly talk to you and do whatever you want—they will arrest you. Come on, you have to get off this planet, now. They'll have sensors—you can't let them find you—and you can't kill them—what is wrong with Padme's father anyway? Oh, never mind, just come on—"

He turns and flies towards the ship, getting about ten feet before realizing I am not with him. "Anakin, please, we really must hurry—don't be silly—"

At once I am incensed, angry and furious. The man calls himself my friend—doesn't consider for an instant that I know what I'm doing. "I'm staying," I inform him, sweeping back towards my ship, clenching my fists, "I suggest you leave. You're wanted for conspiring to overthrow the Republic."

"I'm trying to help you, Anakin!" my former master insists, jogging to rejoin me, "Could you at least do me the courtesy of explaining why you want to stay?"

"I'm going to talk to my wife," I snarl, "Besides, I want to at least try to convince Naboo to meet Palpatine's demands so he doesn't kill you all. And if they won't—I think I've earned arrest. Unlike you. Leave, Master, so they don't get you, too."

"Come with me," he pleads, tugging at the back of his hair, "Anakin, Naboo will not meet your demands, you'll be wasting your time—please. There is no need for this—you will regret it."

"If they do arrest me—" I say, voice trembling, "you have to hide Padme and my babies for me. Please, Master. I don't want any of you to die, you must escape—you must protect them for me."

"Anakin—"

"Obi-Wan. Leave."

He stops where he stands, stricken, as I continue to pace forward towards the glossy blue ship that landed next to my own while I was talking with Obi-Wan.

As I get closer I see about twenty people in white uniforms standing around the ship, with guns. Among them is Padme.

She appears horribly out of place among the armed men, standing small and dark-haired, wringing her porcelain white hands, biting her lip.

I walk faster, careful not to go so fast I pass out from lack of oxygen. About twenty feet from the group, all the blasters are pointed at me in unison. "Stop where you are!" commands one of them through a bullhorn, "Do not come any closer. Negotiations will be carried out from here."

I take two cautious steps backwards, blindly probing and carefully placing each foot a little higher. I raise both charcoal hands in a peaceful gesture, palms out, mind racing.

I don't know—I can't think—I don't see how I can get them to Padme's father to help him, to save him, and also negotiate for Palpatine—I don't…

"No need. I'm turning myself in."

Did I just say that?

"The prisoners are on the ship. The security code to unlock it is 62232."

My hands tremble as I realize the full ramifications of what I'm doing. Obi-Wan was right, they'll arrest me, and then Palpatine will kill Obi-Wan and Padme and the twins. How could I be so damn selfish?

But it's too late now, because the officers are swarming around me now. One pulls my arms back and snaps cuffs on them. Someone laughs. One kicks my shins, surprising me so I tumble forward and bite my tongue. My mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood.

And now pulling myself to my feet I see my father-in-law being carried out of the ship in a stretcher and loaded onto the blue cruiser. I see my wife embracing my mother-in-law and taking our son in her arms, cradling him to her chest. I see pearly tears fall from her eyes as she sees her son, and then she looks at me.

Forgetful of everything, knowing she might not recognize me, hoping maybe she doesn't, I call her name. "Padme," I say, and it sounds so pathetic and weak, like a gasping death prayer, that I forget that this is the woman who can chase away nightmares, who loved me, who laughed and talked and played with me.

As I walk by her, she spits at my feet.

This gesture is met with cheers of approval and applause from her fellow Nubians. She looks at her feet, shocked, then, still clutching Luke, she follows her mother and father onto the ship ahead of me.

Another guard comes out of the cruiser holding a handheld weapons detector, which she sweeps across my body. My lightsaber sets it off, and she throws it carelessly into a metal container. I clench my teeth. She seems to notice this somehow. "Oh, is the terrorist not too happy now?" she taunts scathingly. "Well, that's just too bad. You're an asshole, you know that? You would have killed that baby without a moment's hesitation."

I do not respond.

I am lead into a cell. A comfortable cell, to be sure, as the Naboo are too peaceful to ever dream of inflicting actual pain on anybody, but a cell just the same.

A nurse comes over and he injects a needle into the small gap in the body armor just above my elbow and I am suddenly so sleepy…..

-------

Qui-Gon Jinn looks at me sadly. "Hello, Anakin."

What? "Qui-Gon—?" I slur, my tongue thick, "But you're…you are…you're dead."

"And you, Anakin, are asleep," he chides gently.

"Oh," I groan wearily, pulling myself to my feet and yawning, "I guess that explains it then. Master Qui-Gon, I just got arrested."

"I know," he says, smiling sadly, "and believe it or not, young one, it was the right thing to do."

"Right? How can it be right? I should have left with Obi-Wan, I didn't even get to talk to Padme…she hates me now anyway, I think. I didn't do my job, I didn't get rid of Palpatine, and on top of that my master probably thinks I hate him. He probably wishes he never met me at all."

"You underestimate Obi-Wan," he chastises gently; "he knows you too well to think you hate him because you were angry. An even if he did think that, he wouldn't hate you for it. Give him some credit. Obi-Wan loves you too much to bring himself to hate you. I think he proved that on Mustafar."

I stare at my hands, ashamed. He's right, of course. "But I still didn't kill Palpatine," I mumble softly, "I didn't do my job. I didn't balance the Force. I failed."

"You have not failed, young one," he says, "The future is clearer from my point of view…but if you'll excuse me, I think someone else wants to talk to you."

"What?"

"Good-bye, Anakin Skywalker. I hope we will meet again."

"Then why won't you teach me how to be a ghost? You're telling Obi-Wan."

"I would tell you if I could, Anakin."

And the world dissolves.

-------

"Ani—"

"Qui-Gon…no…"

"Ani, it's me…Padme."

I shake the clouds of sleep from my aching eyes and try to sit up and find I can't feel anything below my neck.

"Padme…I'm sorry…" I whisper, letting the words fall between us.

"My father is okay," she says, refusing my apology and instead answering my unasked question. "They think he'll live. Thank you," she continues haltingly, "for bringing him back to me. However. I must know why you are doing this."

"For you," I moan, aching with the need to feel her. I reach with the Force and caress her mind with my own; she responds by flinching and withdrawing. "I did it for you," I say more quietly, "so that you would live."

Tears fall unhindered from soft brown eyes. "I cannot understand your reasoning, nor condone your behavior. I cannot forgive or forget what you have done. But Anakin Skywalker, you are my husband, we promised to stay together for better or worse. I love you, Anakin. And I will not let them take you away."

She takes my hand and puts her forehead to mine. She is cold. Her shoulders shake and her tears fall to my eyes, crying for both of us.

"Now—Ani, I have to give you another injection to put you back to sleep. No one knows I'm in here or that I woke you up. Okay?"

She jabs the needle into my elbow, kisses me gently, and she is gone and so is everything else