Elphora was a warm world, but not overly so like Tatooine. Located at the edge of the outer rim, it was apparently one of the former bases of the Millipedes, one which had remained undiscovered in the Empire's subsequent raids and tracking-downs of all rebels sixteen years ago. And so, it proved a good place to set up shop for our currently extremely small and underfunded rebellion. Mostly Jyn and Cassian Andor stayed here full time, with a few of Saw Guerra's former partisans joining them. As I had a farm to tend to and an identity to maintain, I couldn't be here all the time, particularly with the Inquisitors tracking me. They might track me right here. Then, goodbye, three x-wings and four computers and a dozen soldiers…

But today, I was here on base, and felt immediate discouragement on hearing Andor's report. We were almost out of money, again. Leia could only funnel so many credits to us in secret without anyone becoming the wiser; mostly, she sold her jewelry and other personal items, because giving money from the royal accounts was how Queen Breha did it before. We knew it could be traced. I contributed what money I could, but the amounts were laughable.

Also, no one wanted to fight with us besides those few who had come on board. Big shock. For one thing, we could only give them vague promises about planning to destroy the Death Star—to which they merely gave sarcastic and unbelieving looks. For two, the Empire's iron grip was felt everywhere. Who could actually believe it would fall?

Well—a few of us. But mostly it was those few who knew the truth about Galen Erso, and those of us who had little to lose. Until the Death Star was down, no one would seriously consider rebelling. But once the Death Star was down, Sidious would hunt us like a bloodhound—or rather, use his favorite bloodhound to do the hunting, Vader. So then, we, a piddly rebellion who had taken on the Death Star (assuming we even got it down) would then be crushed anyway. Probably.

It was an impossible circle of non-solution that none of us seemed to be able to penetrate. Even if we could, we had no money anyway. And you could buy a few X-wings here and there for "fun" without anyone thinking much, but mass purchases of ships and material? Only Han knew how to get stuff like that, and he was unwilling to help, likely because he realized it would immediately put at least the criminal element on alert. And since the Death Star still stood…

You get the picture.

But I made sure to put on a determinedly placid, kind countenance as the ship swooped down on the mossy "landing pad" we'd allotted. It was a sleek, modern vessel, shining silver in the sun, and mirrored the sleek, modern young woman who exited. As was more typical for her, she wore the finery of her world, today a set of gray silk trousers and shirt with a white cape fluttering behind her. A pilot with floppy blond hair accompanied her, which hadn't been in my instructions; I supposed this was her way to defy me. But I needed to check the woman could be trusted.

"Padmé," I greeted pleasantly. "Good to see you made it."

"Well," she replied, "I could hardly refuse the invitation, Uncle Luke. It is alright if I call you that, right?"

I got the distinct sense she was trying to needle me. Lightly, I said, "Sounds great. I've wanted to hear it for years. Your pilot…"

"You mean Lieutenant Seastriker?" Padmé nodded to the woman. "Thank you. That will be all for now. She can be trusted."

"Are you certian?"

With hand to her heart and faux hurt in her face, she said, "I thought you said you trusted my judgement."

"I do. I just want to make sure everyone here stays as safe and as well as possible."

"Well, it's fine. Trust me." Padmé smiled, that flinty light in her eyes.

I inclined my head. Trust was a two-way street. And maybe I could sneak back later and talk with this "Seastriker". "After you."

OOO

A half hour later, after giving her an extensive tour of our not-so-extensive base, Padmé turned on me. "I'm going to be honest with you."

"Please."

"This setup borders on the completely ramshackle. One shoddily-built laser canon could take everything out."

Well. That was blunt. And it hurt. But I hadn't lived on Tatooine the majority of my entire life without developing some thick skin and some harsh realism.

"It's a problem." I explained the circular logic issue with which we were battling. "And so… small buildup like this, moment by moment, it's the best we can do right now until we find some kind of solution."

"I have a solution."

Oh, I imagined she did. Fondly, I smiled. "As what's that, honey?"

"Stop this."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"No," she retorted with insolence but also intense intent, "you listen to me. You know I'm right. You aren't stupid, Uncle Luke." (Despite the situation I liked hearing the monicker come so easily from her.) "And I have been thinking. I… I see what you might have meant about Vader."

My blood ran cold. I kept blank. "How do you mean?"

"The other day, the YILC—" Young Imperial Leaders Coalition—"had a tour of the Imperial Palace—you know, like every year—anyway, we ended up seeing Vader… Well, he…"

"Choked someone."

"I'm sure she must have done something terrible!" The cry came almost frantically.

She must have done something terrible… I thought of my mother, the mother I'd never known, choked and then left broken in the smoky ashes of Mustafar. "I'm sure she did," I replied, surprising Padmé. "To Vader, at least. But to him, even breathing wrong is terrible."

"You know that's not true."

"Do I?" I challenged softly, thinking of things I couldn't think of. It was a she. Not a he. You know where he is right now… "I'm sorry, Padmé, that you had to see that. No one should ever have to see someone else die except warm in their beds naturally."

"See?!" she suddenly cried, like a dam burst. "And then you have to go and say things like that—you're just so… good. Kriff. Kriff it all," she uttered.

I had to laugh, never having heard her utter such oaths. Unfortunately, she took it as my laughing at her expense. Her spine straightened. Her gaze cooled and narrowed.

"I have put in much thought to what you said, especially on the trip here. Now, I am unsure what you wanted to accomplish with this besides making me believe no rebellion would ever be possible, but you are right: I am… not prepared to turn you all in."

Despite some of the comments there, relief ballooned within me. And victory. I knew it! I just knew she couldn't! "Padmé," I began, "thank you—"

"You didn't let me finish. I am not prepared to turn you all in. Yet.

"If, however, you persist in this foolishness, I shall have to take action. No matter what the cost. For Alderaan. And for the Empire. The Empire is peace, Uncle Luke. It is order, and society, and civilization. I admit… that I have begun to see some of it in a different light… but that doesn't change my loyalties. Do you understand?"

Padmé was an honorable woman. A woman dedicated to her Empire. But also one who loved. She was willing to give those she loved a chance in order to avoid their deaths. But she also refused to yield, and let what she viewed as chaos return to the galaxy.

I said, "I do understand, very well."

"Alright, then," she said quietly, unlike her. "Now, let's go. This world is too damn hot for my liking."

"What? But it's so pleasant!"

"And Tatooine is somewhat hot, I suppose."

"Well… I mean… yeah…"

She rolled her eyes, more relaxed than I'd ever seen her. She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the ship. "Come on."

"Where are we going, by the way?"

"Alderaan. I am to be in a parade celebrating my coming of age and my near completion of my challenges."

The amount of "I" "me" and "my"s in there was a bit indicative of her self-focused nature. But it sounded fun enough. I'd support her. Maybe I could even bring up her Force sensitivity at some point, and begin to introduce this dimension of reasoning as to why her loyalties must shift.

I smiled at her and shrugged. "Sounds fun."

But that didn't mean I'd forgotten she met Vader, or that he now knew his granddaughter in some capacity. Had he recognized her as a relative? No. Impossible. Then she and Leia would be… And he never had known Leia, not when he cut the Organas heads off or after.

He had no right to lay claim on them. But I needed to watch things ever more closely to keep the two safe. Vader's inability to know his own relatives was a gift, but might someday prove a curse.

If only I could've known how right that thought was then, when Padmé was still young and smiling and with that light in her eyes.

OOO

And the parade was fun—until crowds of hecklers began throwing rotten food at the fancifully dressed and gloriously adorned Padmé as she waved at them. "Spoiled brat!" one cried in pun. "Alderaan is ruined by you and your father!" another declared. "You're no princess!" went another. And finally, the last one I caught before the feed cut out: "Plain Princess Padmé!"

Later, Han, Leia, and I waited with grim faces, each probably thinking different things. I felt for Padmé. But I also knew Leia must necessarily live up to her reputation as the durasteel-fisted queen of her world and punish them for such free speech.

Then Padmé came in through the palace gates and into where we waited—

And ran into my arms. Han and Leia looked on in shock as I hugged her back, murmuring soothing nonsense. "Come on, honey," I coaxed. "Let's let 3V help you out of those clothes."

OOO

"They hate me. They all hate me. I always thought my people adored me, but they don't. They despise me."

I corrected her, "A select group of beings apparently dislike you. I can testify to a similar experience in my time."

"This isn't about you! This is about me!"

"Well," I mused, "yes. And also no. It also involves your mother, and people's perception of what a princess should be."

"Pretty, you mean."

"I suppose."

"Like Mother. Or you. You should've been a princess."

"I'm not sure I fit the role…"

This got one little laugh. "I meant… oh, you know what I meant. Don't you think I wish I was beautiful like Mother? I should be, because both she and Dad are so handsome. But that's not the way it turned out for me! Of course it bothers me sometimes. Of course I know people look at me and think, 'Really?' Plain Princess Padmé. Even my attendant droid pans it—'Why, you look almost bearable today!'" She falsettoed. "But… at the end of the day… I can't do anything about it. So what can I do but go on and focus on the things that matter more—the things I have in my control?"

"We're luminous beings, Padmé, not this crude matter. You know what I see, when I look at you?"

She still stared down at the floor. "What?"

"I see a very loving, very courageous, very convicted, and idealistic young woman dedicated to her duties. One who feels deeply, and so naturally would be hurt that a few of her people don't currently reflect the same love she holds in her heart for them. And I'm so, so sorry that you're hurting. But you are beautiful, honey, inside and out. And you will be a wonderful queen of Alderaan to blow them all away."

Honey eyes came to meet mine. "You're a very nice liar, Uncle Luke," she said at last, with a kindness I'd never seen in her before.

"I mean every word."

"Yes. I think that's why it seems so genuine. You really believe in people."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. It's just… people don't really believe… the way that you believe. Look at me: I lose more faith in the Empire every day."

I gave thanks for the sonic neutralizer I'd thought to tuck into my tunic earlier.

I handled this confession carefully, like an unstable kyber crystal. "We all lose faith in the Empire at some point. But we can always keep faith in individual people, and in their better natures, as well as in causes."

She waggled a finger. "Don't go trying to recruit me again now. I'm too tired."

"I meant it only in a general sense."

She sighed. "I know." Then, "For so long… I've tried to play the part of the perfect princess. Only now do I realize it was in part because I realized my failings in some respects of the 'perfect' princess ideal. I'm not pretty. I don't often feel generous. I actually loathe many beings."

"A comprehensible feeling in politics."

"Uncle Luke! You're sassy!"

I put a finger to my lips.

She finished, "I've been playing a part that isn't me. Maybe it's time to stop."

"We all play our parts, always," I replied. "I play farmer. You play princess. Leia plays queen. Han… well… he's not too good at playing viceroy, but… These parts are made up of us, and they should be made wholly of us, you're right. They just aren't the whole us. And that's okay, too. So if you feel like you've been playing a princess that isn't all you, then find your own princess that is wholly you. Remember it just needn't be the whole you. Some things… we're allowed to keep for ourselves."

Padmé took my hand. "You're a good man. Thank you, Uncle." No longer was there any teasing in her tone when it came to the moniker.

I squeezed her hand back. "You're most welcome, Your Highness." And I inclined my head.

OOO

This chapter was inspired by the song 'Arcanine' by Ursine Vulpine. As usual – please consider a review if you liked reading.