A/N: I was going to wait longer and work on this bit some more, but I got fed up because I hadn't updated in so long. Sorry. I hope you like this part!

Three-eight found Commander Sympatha where she should be, in the hut cleaning some equipment.

"Commander Sympatha, I need to talk to you about something," he said, his tone formal.

Sympatha looked up and smiled at him. "You needn't be so formal. We've been working together for months on end, remember?" A few months ago, she wouldn't even have made the request, and would have accepted the formal tone. Now, she felt that he was… she hesitated for the word. A friend? Perhaps not, but still, he was very much like one, as close as she would ever get.

Except for Boba, said the tiny voice in the back voice in the back of her head.

But he's gone now, probably dead. Anyway, there's no chance that I'll ever find him, or that he'd even remember me, thought the larger portion of her head.

"Commander Sympatha?" Three-eight brought her back from her musings.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, Three-eight. What was it that you wanted?" She smiled at him.

It was Three-eight's turn to hesitate. What was it that he wanted? Did he truly want to do as the Supreme Chancellor had asked? He hadn't asked anything really sinister; all he wanted was for Three-eight to bring Sympatha to him.

But why didn't he just ask Sympatha to go? Wouldn't that have been easier?

Maybe it was something she might resist… maybe it has something to do with the Jedi uprising!

Yes, that could certainly be it. Sympatha, even though she was not a Jedi, was helping them rebel!

But how could she? She had been here all this time!

On Yoda's orders… maybe we were sent here to do work for the Jedi Rebellion!

We haven't found anything! What could the possibly want with a deserted place like this.

A hide out, or a weapons base. But none of this is helping me decide what to do with Sympatha!

I'll warn her of what I think it might be, and see if she still wants to go.

It was fortunate that Three-eight had reached this conclusion in his thoughts, because Sympatha was getting impatient. Or as impatient as she ever got.

"Well?" she asked.

"Right," said Three-eight. "I have been ordered to take you back to Coruscant. Normally, this would not be suspicious, but the Jedi are rebelling against the Republic, and you may be suspected to have a hand in it. I don't think you do, though my opinion doesn't matter, and I don't want to put you in danger unnecessarily. What would you like to do?"

Sympatha rested her chin in her palm, only for a moment. There was no choice, really. The decision was simple.

"Alright, I believe that it would be safe for me to go to Coruscant. Let's leave now."

"Do you think we should disable the camp, or do you think that we will be back?" Three-eight asked his commander.

Sympatha hesitated. "Disable the camp."

Ar'an was ten, and Boba was 5. They were playing in a weed lot on the rainy planet Kamino. Ar'an had made a crown of weeds to wear on her head and called herself the queen. Boba wanted to be the king; he had heard about kings and queens in some of the books that Ar'an had read to him, but Ar'an said he couldn't been, because that would mean that they would have to be married, and she wasn't allowed to be married.

"Who says?" Boba had asked her.

"Your father," Ar'an had replied matter-of-factly. "And he said I couldn't consort with men either. He told me he would tell you the same thing, that you couldn't have any relations with women, when you were old enough to understand it."

"But why?" Boba asked again.

"He said it would distract us from our job; and a distracted bounty hunter is a dead one. Do you want that?"

Boba shook his head solemnly. He was already cherishing the notion that he would be a bounty hunter himself one day, and follow in his father's footsteps. He would do whatever it took to become the greatest bounty hunter of all time.

"But," he added. "It wouldn't hurt for you and me to get married. We'll both be bounty hunters, so we can distract each other. Surely Dad won't care about that."

Ar'an laughed. "Maybe he will, maybe he won't. I don't know."

Boba took her hand and said seriously, "One day when we grow up we will get married, and be the bounty hunting king and queen of the galaxy!"

Ar'an woke up from her dream, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She must have fallen asleep at the controls. She wondered why she had had that dream again. It had been occurring more and more often recently, and Sympatha had no clue why. Usually she didn't dream, but this seemed like it was more than a dream; it was like a message, a message from the past. She sat up and called out to Three-eight, who was sitting in the control both opposite her in this tiny ship. "How close are we to arriving?" she asked him.

"We should reach Coruscant in one galactic standard hour," her co-pilot replied.

"Excellent." Ar'an leaned back in her chair and was about to close her eyes again when Three-eight spoke.

"What will you do if they try to execute you?" he asked haltingly.

"Who would try to execute me?" Ar'an asked, turning around to look at him.

"Well, the clone armies have been ordered to take out their Jedi commanders, because they are rebelling, and even though you aren't a Jedi, you were put in command by them, and may be suspected of collaborating in the plot."

"How could I have collaborated in a plot when I've been stuck on a remote planet for months?" Ar'an asked, skeptical.

"I don't know, but they may not think that way."

"Hmm… would you execute me if you were ordered to?" Ar'an asked, a bit teasingly.

Three-eight was stumped. "I… I don't know…" he answered, brow furrowing. "I suppose a few months ago I would have said yes I could, and you would say the same about me, but… so many things have happened that the creators didn't intend to happen, and I don't think I could answer for what I might do. Everything is so… different than it should be."

"That's how it is in war," Sympatha answered. "That's how it is always."

When they docked in Coruscant, Ar'an was ready for anything. Clone troopers, Jedi, even droids wouldn't have fazed her. What did surprise her was the particular Jedi that greeted her, Anakin Skywalker, looked… different. She had seen him before, and he looked… evil? Perhaps that was the word for it. She did know that there was no warmth in those now yellow eyes, just like there wasn't any in her clear ones.

"My master bade me to take you to him," Anakin informed them. "He will see you in his chambers. Just you, Commander Sympatha." For Three-eight started to follow them. "He can wait here." Sympatha followed Anakin up to the Senate building, while Three-eight stayed with the ship.

A/N: I'll try to write more soon, but I write when the mood swings me.