Again, suspension of disbelief in this chapter. (Again it's what I originally wrote.) Also I am not too great at action scenes, because I haven't practiced much. Hope you still enjoy!

OOO

I was losing this duel. I knew I was losing. And he knew I was losing.

So he decided to add some spice by explaining everything, for some reason. "When I first met you, I felt something strange."

"I don't mean to make it awkward, but… aren't you eighteen? Has to have happened before." (Since I was going out, I figured I might as well go out with pith.)

But this just made him smile—and then parry far more intensely my attempted strikes. That made me focus entirely on not getting scorched to death. Sure, I'd fought with quarterstaffs, and it somewhat lent itself to laser-sword fighting… but not too much. The sword was heavier than I had imagined, and he struck and moved at lightspeed with dark-born strength which I knew not.

He continued, "I watched you during the dinner, because I was trying to figure out what was going on. And you impressed me, then. I learned how you went to the Carrion Spike with your class, and you spoke so eloquently, reserving your words with care. I thought, This is an interesting princess. Of course, I'd heard about you before, but rumors get things so mixed up and all."

"True. I heard a rumor you're an annoying little ass… Oh. Wait…"

He laughed, and then proceeded to ignore me. "But then, I saw your necklace in the garden. And that's when things started to make sense. Do you know what that necklace does?"

I thought about denial, but then the word slipped out anyway in my intense focus on the fight. "No."

"I didn't think so. It shields Force-sensitivity, so far as I can tell. The kyber crystal in there helps to harness and conceal Force strength. And that was when things started to make sense. I knew what I'd felt when I met you. What everyone else had missed. And I also knew only one person could have given that to you: Whitesun.

"I thought about turning you in straight away, but I admired your courage. You're so clearly damaged by everything that's happened to you, but you don't stop. You refuse to stop, to let him have the final victory over you. You have the heart of a warrior, and have emerged from the most difficult of tests still with the will to fight. That's a very rare thing. I knew you could be valuable."

He spoke of me like I was an object of rare and remarkable value scavenged from the sands of Tatooine, rather than a person. He went on quickly like he might be stopped lest he get the words all out now, that same febrile light in his eyes as before, even as I lagged, knowing the end was near. Or maybe not.

Maybe such mercy wasn't headed my way.

"And then you beat Alba. Oh, Padmé… that was wonderful. I'd never seen anyone lose control so completely like that. I wanted to kiss you, then, because then I was sure. The dark was so powerful in you then. So glorious. But then… you drew back." For the first time, he betrayed a hint of a frown. "I wish you hadn't. It would have made everything so much easier. But I couldn't give you up. Not now. I had to keep you… But by then, it wouldn't have been wise to tell Grandfather. I'd kept you from him. The only way to make things right was to bring you around, and then show you to him… Don't you see? So I couldn't tell him, or give you to him. Not yet. It had to be me… You were mine, now, after what we'd shared.

"But then, your cover got blown by your foolish father. And you ran with Whitesun. That left your mother and Garr. I knew I could get you back, because I knew you'd come for her. I had to tell Grandfather then, what I'd learned… I didn't quite tell the whole of it… But he was displeased. I could tell. Still, his displeasure focused on them, mostly… But I thought he would listen to me, until today… He was about to disregard me in there! He says you can't be worth much to us, because of your mind. I told him he was wrong… that you'll be wonderful… But he just doesn't understand… But you do, don't you, Dove? I'm sure you understand."

In this moment, it occurred to me that I might not be the only one in this duo to be not-entirely sane. This boy, too, housed some instability of his own. It was in his words. In his voice. In his eyes.

Yet… I realized that, perhaps because of that… I did understand. I understood extremely clearly—excepting the whole possession thing. And I felt… I felt…

I lost my focus, and my footing. I stumbled on one of the crates, and then fell back, barely bracing myself against the wall. The fiery red blades snapped together, coming to both poise at my throat.

Death.

"You do understand, don't you?" he asked almost anxiously, eyes hunting mine, like my response really mattered.

"Yes. I understand."

"Good, good." He breathed out, sharply.

I tensed—I cringed—preparing for the inevitable—

And instead through my veiled vision saw him extinguish his lightsaber and offer his right hand to me. "You have a lot of potential, Padmé. But it's nothing without some proper training. Let me help you. I'm sure it will help you mentally, too. Part of your instability… it stems from the Force made confused in you. I'm certain of it."

I examined the pale, slim hand, dull in the low light. It seemed so small. So fragile. So unthreatening.

The station rocked underfoot. "What—?" On instinct he turned to look out the viewport, even as I did, at the suddenly changed scene: the shield was down, and the rebel ships, aware of their sudden change in fortune, were now speeding toward the Death Star. Toward us. To destroy us. To destroy the station.

My pulmonode heart began to beat once again with the I want to live I want to live I want to live rhythm of the duel. Though I realized this was also good. We might actually win this thing…

I stood up, taking hold of Luke's stolen lightsaber as I did so. The prince looked back to me. "We should go."

"If you're so confident about this station's safety, why flee?"

"Because the shield wasn't supposed to…"

"Oh, don't worry. We knew it was a trap."

"I realized that. Clearly your intelligence is good."

"So I've been told."

He said, "Come with me, Padmé."

And if I refuse? But I knew the answer to that one. Death seemed to be closing in on all sides, except for one—one I refused to contemplate—

"What about your grandfather?"

"He'll understand." He didn't seem to wholly believe that himself.

But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered, suddenly. Because all of a sudden, I felt in the Force a life… a life full of hope and courage and strength. A life flying in one of those ships out there. Adalyse.

And then I felt the flare of life extinguish as surely as water dousing a flame. Out. Goodbye.

I cried out, unbelieving, shocked numb, but unable to deny the flesh truth of the durasteel reality… And I suddenly realized that in this boy before me stood the source of all evils in the whole of the galaxy. He had killed her. He had tortured my mother. He had killed Garr. He had taken my life and my family's lives and that unborn little baby's life—

That same haze of rage overtook me from when I'd hurt Alba. I didn't try to suppress it, for it lent me power. Power enough to take on the shadow, grasp its thin neck between my hands, squeeze and twist… And the boy fought back, but had clearly been unprepared for such an onslaught of violent potency. Yet that didn't mean he was without the greater skill. I cried out again as one of the two fiery blades he wielded sliced down across my face and into my chest, so nearly hitting those vital components which sustained my life—

Fueling my rage, making me fear—

Fueling the power—

Soon I maneuvered him into a trip even as I had been maneuvered before, and my blade was slicing cleanly through his hand. I had to hold my chest with one hand, the better to keep safe the components… The station rocked again. His hand seared off, falling to the floor… His eyes were wide as they took me in—wide and defenseless, gaining me a glimpse of a wounded and frightened little boy huddling there—

Then a voice said, "Good! Good!" and the Emperor stumped in on his cane, cackling gleefully… His sulfuric eyes took in the scene. "I see what my grandson meant, milady. You are powerful indeed. Now, kill him."

The prince gasped. Breathlessly, he uttered, "Grandfather…?"

The cold Emperor looked no longer on him—only on me. "Kill him now."

The station rocked again. And I saw as if in a dream myself standing at the helm of Imperial power, no one mocking me, no one calling me a glorified droid, no one calling me mad. I held control. Strength. Valor. Supremacy.

The moment passed. For suddenly I was thinking of Adalyse again, and the terrible pain had returned. It was like I felt her presence here, in this room, with me right now. And if the thought of my uncle or mother or father couldn't pull me back… the knowing that this would never be what she had wanted for me did. She'd just sacrificed her life for all of this. I couldn't disrespect that.

I stood at the edge of the room, and at the edge of this room lay a long drop into a hangar below. Was I wrong or could I see a ship just there? The Force will provide… I mused.

Without a word, I took the hand that didn't hold Luke's lightsaber and gave a salute to the prince at my left. Then, I jumped headlong into the depths below, trusting in the Force to catch me. Or not. It would do what was right.

OOO

Thoughts?

One more chapter, then it's on to 'Heirs' the sequel! Yay!

Warm wishes,
Hope