Plasma and Puath Puhrr lay sitting on the ground of a carpeted bedroom, legs crossed, facing each other. They had been playing with dolls for the last three hours. There were hand-carved wooden figurines, and factory-made, luxurious collector's pieces as well; many types of human and alien dolls, and lots of plushies, scattered about them. Simple toys that neither of them had when growing up.

"I was the queen of the forest and, and—"

"—and I was your brave knight!"

The princess' bedroom was itself the size of a small palace, constructed with a double-sized high ceiling, a winding staircase to a mezzanine, where her royal bed lay covered in gold-inlaid sheets. Silk-satin curtains stretched along the walls over tall windows, and fur, fluffy carpets covered every inch of the floor. Her dress closet alone was more valuable than the corporate planetoid they used to live, and the value of her jewelry collection could support the campaign of a small army for a month.

Despite having been given countless expensive gifts by the king, Puath seemed to not care about the luxury. It was the company that she had missed the most; Plasma became a child again, playing with his sister.

The young Sith had cast aside his weapon, armor, and cape during his stay. For the first time, there were no problems, there was no Force, no Empire, no anger. There were just the two of them, sharing time, care, and love. It was all that mattered, all that he had endured for. All he wanted to do was spend time with his little sister. The castle did not matter; the money did not matter. His titles and authority were meaningless. Reconnection was what he craved the most.

He was truly glad that Puath had indeed found a loving home, and her new wealthy parents could give her things that he had never even dreamed of.

As royalty, Puath had her share of personal servants and dedicated private teachers. The servants, who constantly waited for her outside whatever room she was in, were in charge of bathing her, brushing her fur, fixing her bed, tidying her bedroom, clipping her claws, washing her clothes, cooking her food. She had a strict schedule and barely enough free time: she learned etiquette, languages, history, heraldry, mathematics, art, music...

"It's almost lunch time," Plasma said as he squashed his doll onto a rancor beast plushie. "We destroyed the monster! Now let's put these toys away, alright?"

"The servants do that, brother!" she said innocently. "Let's go to the dining hall; I've asked the chef to prepare a delicious dish for you!"

"Puath," Plasma said and looked seriously at her. "Do you think it's fair that these people clean after you? Come; I'll help you."

"Father," Puath called pleadingly. "Could I have my schedule cleared for the week, please?! I want to spend time with my brother! Please, please?!"

She squinted her tiny, golden eyes and drew up a wide grin, little hands before her chest, but Plasma intervened, scratching her little, white head.

"Never miss school, kitten," he said. "We'll play more after your classes. How about… you paint something really pretty for me today, hm? And I'll hang it in my ship!"

"Do you have a ship, Plazmi?!" Her eyes sparkled with fascination. "Can I see it?"

"Later; now finish your food and get ready for class."

There were smiles all around the table. King Kjuty Kal, Queen Tyana, Puath Puhrr, Plaz-myu and the Jedi Dandra Medd. Everyone was much calmer and the atmosphere seemed lighter, as if there was no Sith Lord present.

Puath thanked her father and the chef for the food, climbed down the chair and ran away with her Ithorian art professor. The servants cleaned the long, burgundy table and took the dirty dishes away with the help of cute, square-shaped droids.

The King wished to speak with Plasma alone after breakfast. The queen, the guards, the servants, and the Jedi diplomat were asked to leave.

"We can break protocol now," Kjuty said with relief, shoving an entire cobaltfruit doughnut in his mouth. "I wanted to thank you, Lord Plasma, and also apologize for the way I treated you before."

"I'm just Plaz-my here." He smiled.

"That is remarkably humble of you," Kjuty responded. "However, I believe you were sent here as a diplomat to negotiate an alliance between my House and the Empire; were you not?"

"To be honest, I was not. That was just a way to penetrate the planet's security and secure an audience with you. Finding Puath was my one and only goal."

"Oh, I see…" Kjuty sounded disappointed. "I suppose that's actually flattering, although terribly ego-crushing; and worrisome. If you were an assassin, I'd already be dead."

"When I first learned about you and Puath, killing you was my goal," Plasma commented sincerely and casually. "I believed then that you had purchased Puath as a slave. So, in truth, it is I that must apologize; and thank you for giving her the life I could never."

Plasma forced a cough and looked away to disguise the tears that formed around his eyes. The King seemed quite blown away by the raw honesty with which the Sith Lord spoke; he sighed with relief shortly after, letting out a nervous chuckle.

"I hope that Miss Ma'va managed to pull her life together with the money," Kjuty said, and Plasma interrupted him, harshly.

"She did not. The Hutt who charged you thirty million credits paid my mother ten thousand. What matters, though, is that you did the unthinkable to help Puath and for that you have earned my eternal gratitude."

A lifetime debt with a Sith Lord would have seemed an unspeakable victory to many throughout the galaxy; however, the King simply smiled and bowed his head subtly. Before him lay a man who truly, deeply loved his sister.

"Forgive me for my honesty," Kal said. "But you are the kindest and humblest Sith Lord I have ever met. I am glad to know the Academy did not change you."

"I wasn't trained in the Academy." Plasma shrugged. "My master rescued me and made me into a Sith; she gave me the power to find my family."

"You could stay here, live with your sister," the King offered. "If my House pledged allegiance to your Empire, I could request for permanent presence of a Sith Lord here, for security reasons—and I could appoint you as my personal bodyguard."

"That is incredibly thoughtful of you, Kjuty," Plasma said softly. "However, I meant what I said: I have no intention of getting in the way of Dandra's diplomatic mission. It would not be fair with her."

"Regardless, you are part of this family now, and are welcome to stay here for as long as you desire."

You are part of this family, the phrase resonated inside Plaz-myu's mind, massaging his spirit. He smiled tenderly at the King, and they held each other's hands.

"I appreciate the offer. I need to find my older sister first, though. Have you met her as well in Nal Hutta?"

"I'm afraid I haven't, although your mother did say she had been taken by a Jedi Master, if I remember correctly. Perhaps Miss Medd could assist you with this?"

"I believe she could," Plasma agreed somberly. "This conversation was delightful, but I must attend to other business. I'll be in my chambers if you need me."

Plasma could not shake the feeling that something was off. He had this constant discomfort in the back of his mind, sensing a subtle disturbance in the Force that tightened his stomach.

He retreated into his chambers that night. His outfit had been neatly folded, and his armor and cape had been solemnly assembled upon a display mannequin. A red light blinked on his communicator; he tried to call the ship, but the device seemed to have malfunctioned. He shrugged; R9 should be able to fix that in the evening.

Plasma sat on the ground and drifted away in a meditative trance. He found himself unable to detect any major disturbances in the Force.

Two hours later, a sweet little presence awoke him. He opened his eyes to a smiling little girl before him, all messy and covered in multicolored paint.

"You sleep funny, big brother!" She giggled. It was the most beautiful sound Plasma had heard, and the grin he drew upon his face seemed too large to fit in his head.

"I was meditating, kitten!"

"What is meditating?" she asked curiously.

"It's when you're half-asleep, and you dream with real things, and you can think about them with more attention." Plasma raised a curious eyebrow and tilted his head. "What do you have back there…?"

Her eyes sparkled and she bit her lip. She waved her shoulders back and forth shyly, suddenly producing a white canvas, hiding her timid face behind it.

"I—I painted something for you…," she muttered. "It's… it's not really good, but it's my present to you."

The painting canvas was about half a square meter and the artwork bloomed before Plasma's eyes like a plump rose in the spring. Despite her troubled past, she was still able to find joy in the littlest of happenings.

Puath had drawn three persons holding hands—her trace was sensitive, but steady, and her brush strokes were thick and controlled. Standing tall in the middle of the composition was Plasma, with his boots and cape, smiling like a striped, orange child; to his left, little Puath drew herself on a beautiful yellow dress, just like a young daffodil. Myat was on the other side, in her early-teenager years, dressed like a princess as well. Both Myat and Puath stared at their big brother with admiration and big smiles. A phrase above the canvas finished the masterpiece.

MY DEEPEST DREAM, painted by Puath Puhrr-Kal.

"Did you like it, Plazmi…?"

A thermal detonator of wholesome love exploded within the Sith's heart, sending shockwaves of pure emotions throughout his body and spirit. The Force around him seemed to flutter, like perfumed petals in the wind. He had the widest smile on his battered face, and the tears that rolled off his eyes contrasted with the joyful expression of his lips. He held up the painting with his trembling hands and found it difficult to speak.

"It's… it's the most, most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Plaz-myu finally said between heavy sobs, and with a breaking voice. "Thank you for this gift, little cub. I'll hang it in the cockpit, so I can see your face every time I jump into the stars!"

Puath smiled proudly and hugged Plasma around the neck.

"Baby girl," Plasma said solemnly. "Would you talk to me about Myat? I need to find her, too."

She swallowed in dry and lowered her eyes, nodding subtly.

"Did mom say something," Plasma suggested. "Or maybe you saw something…?"

She nodded again, fiddling with her fingers. Plasma put her on his lap, delicately stroking the fur of her head, gently swaying back and forth.

"She didn't want to go with the man," Puath whispered. "She screamed and protested, but he dragged her to his ship."

Plasma closed his eyes, hearing the fast thumping of his heart inside his ears.

"Who was this man? Did you know him?"

She shook her head again and spoke.

"He had this big beard and long hair… and carried a lantern like yours."

"Did the man have to use it? The lantern."

"No, and it was dark in the house." She shrugged. "He gave mother a lot of money and said Myat was going to a special school. We said goodbye and they left; mom never spoke of her again. Do you think it was dad who sent him…?"

"No, no, no!" Plasma raised her face slowly. "Dad will never hurt us again, understand? Never again."

She forced a smile and lay her head on her brother's chest, heaving up and down with his respiration.

"I have bad dreams about him, sometimes,' she confessed. "Do you too?"

"I used to, baby," Plasma said. "But not anymore. I made the bad dreams go away, yours will too."

"I'm sorry for what he did to you because of me, Plazmi." She hid her face on his chest and sobbed, uncomfortable memories painfully coming back to her. Plasma tightened the grip on her shoulders, trying to soothe her while he himself fought back tears of pain. "And for all the food you had to give me…"

"Hush, my baby," Plasma murmured with difficulty. "It was not your fault; and I would've done it all again for you. Do you know why?"

She shook her head.

"Because you and your sister are the most special, most precious persons of my life!" He lifted her in the air and smiled at her. "And I promise I'll find Myat and bring her to you!"

She giggled playfully and jumped to her feet.

"Okay!" she shouted. "The last one to the pool is a wet, stinky bantha!"

She then took off.

It amazed him how quickly Puath's state of mind could change, how ephemerous was the mind of a child. It also scared him how much guilt she had carried within her tiny chest for so long, and how she would have carried it along her whole life. However, he was convinced that she would heal, just like he had; all he had to do was give her all the love he could. He would protect her from all the dangers of the galaxy.

Realization struck him suddenly, and he jumped to his feet, running after Puath.

"Wait!" he shouted. "I don't even know where the pool is!"

###

Plasma was in paradise; every hour felt like dreaming, and he wished he would never wake up. Plasma, Puath, and her new father and mother spent the next morning and afternoon by the pool, which was as immense as the sea, with an artificial waterfall mounted ten meters over an artificial mountain.

Water splashed all around them, Plasma and Puath playing like a pair of fishes, jumping into the water, flopping around, playing hoverball, and more. King Kjuty Kal and Queen Tyana rested in a luxurious wooden gazebo, surrounded by golden guards, a few meters from the pool.

Dandra Medd also joined them; she spent her hours under the shade, working on a portable computer. Whenever Plasma glanced at her, she spoke into a communicator, mounted on the table. The young Sith came up to her, bouncing and laughing, dripping all over. She raised her eyes to him.

"Your eyes, they changed color!" she said, surprised. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she added. "Lord Plasma, I have to confess that I never expected to see a Darth of the Empire half-naked and unarmed in a swimming pool."

"There is no Empire here!" he chuckled, shaking off the water off his fur. Dandra tried to disguise her emotions, but they ended up laughing together. Plasma sat on the stone floor beside her, then whispering.

"Won't you join us?" he asked. "We are not enemies here; besides, you're working too much."

"I must say," she added. "You have quite a soothing aura about yourself. I am truly glad that I got to meet a Sith like you, Lord Plasma."

"My name is Plaz-myu here," he observed. "I'm just a guy with his family, living the only dream he'd had since childhood."

"Very well… Plaz-myu," she smiled tenderly. "You said we are not enemies, so can I assume you need something?"

He nodded, assuming a more serious semblant, then said:

"My older sister Myat. I've been told she was kidnapped by a bearded Jedi Master. Have you heard anything of it in the Republic?"

Dandra raised an eyebrow at the word kidnapped but overlooked it for a moment.

"A bearded Jedi Master," she imitated him, laughing. "You've just described half of the entire Jedi Order! Do you know his name?"

"I think so, but I'm, not sure…" he said. "Perhaps it's Kardjow, Karyel, Cardiel."

"Of course!" Dandra snapped her fingers and let out an exclamation of realization. "Little Myat, the new Padawan of Master Kardj'el! She's your sister, how could I have missed that?!"

Plaz-myu's eyes lit up along with his smile; kneeling up, he leaned over the table.

"Do you know her, have you seen her, is she safe?!" His heart raced again, and Dandra could see the table shaking softly. The Jedi nodded.

"I've seen her at the Academy but haven't had the opportunity to talk to her," she told him. "Contrary to popular belief, she is not the only Cathar in the Order, but as the only Padawan she's being called the Tigress of Tython. Rumor has it that she is the most talented Padawan in the arts of Force Healing the Temple has ever seen."

Padawan? Plasma cast a puzzled look at Dandra. His brain froze abruptly, confusion gnawing at his mind. Every information he had received about the Jedi and about Myat clashed against each other. The conflict inside his head was made obvious through his innocent eyes, and Dandra could feel the Force reverberating around him; she felt sorry for him, but shook away the feeling.

"Padawan is how we call a Jedi apprentice," she said. "I don't know the whole story, just that Master Kardj'el arrived with a skinny, malnourished girl about sixty standard days ago."

Plaz-myu swallowed in dry and looked away. Myat was being trained as a Jedi; that meant his mother had not lied. But how could it be? Puath had told him that Myat fought hard against going, and that this master had dragged her away. And everything that Komm'ett had taught him about the Jedi Order, and how much she had warned him about the Jedi Masters. Dandra must surely be lying. That was the only explanation. The Jedi were cunning masters of trickery, after all.

His attitude changed drastically out of a sudden. He stood up and paced backwards, staring at Dandra with a strange frown. He had been a fool for having lowered his guard near her; he would not make the same mistake a second time.

"I could look into this for you, if you'd like," Dandra broke the silence, reaching her hand to Plasma, but he ignored it. "Maybe find where she is now so you could go and see her?"

"Yes, that would be good." Plasma spoke monotonously.

From within the swimming pool, a strident, childish scream called for her brother. Dandra smiled at the little girl paddling her feet over a round floater.

"Give me a couple of days, Plaz-myu," she said. "Now go, someone needs you."

Lord Plasma, he corrected her with a soft growl and returned to Puath.

As the blue sky turned orange, tinted with the setting sun, Plasma dragged his feet tiredly back into the pool house, a small bundle of a Cathar kitten in his arms. A sleeping Puath wrapped inside a fluffy towel. The girl had succumbed to exhaustion, and Plasma would soon join her on the expensive couch in the lounge. They fell asleep together, Puath slowly rising over his chest, until dawn.

King Kjuty Kal surprised Plaz-myu as he opened his eyes to the rays of the rising sun behind the mountains. Little Puath remained sound asleep. They spoke in hushed whispers as to not awake the princess.

"I haven't seen my daughter this happy ever since we adopted her," the king said, staring at her angel-like features, her twitchy nose, and short whiskers. "Had I known she had a brother, I—"

"Kjuty," Plasma interrupted him. "It is not your fault. You've done more than I could hope for my little Puath."

"It's just—knowing that I could've done more." He sighed deeply. "Your mother told me you were dead; she showed me a picture."

The picture was also true, Plaz-myu thought to himself. He put a hand over the king's shoulder and smiled at him.

"My mother was deceived," he said. "But she was not a nice person; she abandoned me to die and took my sisters away."

"I am sorry to hear this," Kjuty lamented. "I would very much like to hear your tale if you one day desire to share it. I would like to understand where my daughter came from, her culture, her customs, her language…" He paused, caressing the white head of his daughter. "Thank you for never giving up, Plaz-myu."

Plasma smiled back. They both looked at little Puath, who scratched her ear three times then rolled to the other side, pulling her brother's heavy arm over her.

"Why don't you take her to a vacation trip?" the King asked out of a sudden.

"What do you mean?"

"Take her into the wilds; spend time with her; teach her what you can. You and she could go on a camping trip here on Retta, perhaps for a week. I wish she would not lose touch with her Cathar heritage."

"Besides," he added. "She would be with a Darth of the Empire; no other place in the galaxy would be safer."

At that precise moment, as if she had been listening to everything, little Puath woke up. She rubbed her sandy eyes, and blinked a couple of times, as the image formed in her dreamy mind.

"What's happening…?" she asked, forcing herself up and sitting on Plasma's stomach.

"Good morning, my love," Kjuty said and pecked the girl on the cheek. "Your brother and I were just talking about something that I think you'll love!"

She glanced between them both, expectantly.

"Your father just gave me permission to take you on a camping trip!" Plasma announced. "Would you like to? Just you and me!"

"Is it true, daddy?!" she screeched. The king assented.

The girl screamed again, flailing her arms, and wrapping them around Kjuty's neck. She bounced with excitement. She thanked her father over and over thoroughly, then turned to hug her brother.

"I'll teach you to swim, to climb trees, prepare traps, hunt for food!" Plasma said with enthusiasm. "We will play with bugs and worms, make mud ball fights, climb waterfalls! I might even teach you how to pilot my ship if you behave…"

Cold sweat dripped from Kjuty Kal's face as he forced an awkward chuckle. For an overprotective father from the royalty, that list of activities was his worst nightmare. The little girl, though, was deeply ecstatic. She leapt off the couch and put on her slippers. Before she could run off, her father called her.

"Hold on, little lady!" Kal stood up. "The trip begins only tomorrow. For now, you have classes to attend. I will help you pack your bags later. Now, come."