The three members of the Naberrie clan endured the night differently. Padmé, dead set on her plan, didn't think much beyond the facts of what would happen and didn't allow herself to feel anything about it. She had been through crises before, and she had always managed by focusing on the task at hand and not her emotions on the matter… at least for a time. As such, she slept soundly.

Siri was tossing and turning, however, both nervous and repulsed at the prospect of a private dinner with Darth Vader. She had standards, and she didn't consider having a murderer over for dinner on par with her ideals, even if it was for a purpose. This was why she hated politics; she was far too blunt to handle the dancing and dodging required to deal with people she despised. Still, she could control herself when the need arose; she just didn't like it.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan didn't sleep at all. He stayed in the main living space, watching Imperial Center's traffic lanes light the sky alongside the buildings, stroking his smooth chin thoughtfully and worriedly. Nothing filled his mind but the constant dreadful thoughts of what could go wrong and how they could try to rectify it. He knew he had to be the calmest of the group; Siri would be on edge enough as it was, and Padmé, despite her amazing ability to keep her composure no matter the situation, was still at risk of being too reckless, of pushing too far. He had to be the one to ensure nothing went wrong… and he was bloody terrified.

Eventually the sky began to turn a dusty blue, casting dark shadows over the skyscrapers, whose lights eventually dimmed as sunlight pierced into the atmosphere. The traffic began to grow even thicker, vehicles began to honk at each other, and the smell of businesses opening, restaurants cooking food, and vehicle exhaust began to seep into the air through the balcony. Obi-Wan rubbed his temples wearily and stood. It was time to get ready for the day.

As he turned to go to the refresher and shower, he paused when he heard shuffling feet. He knew it was his wife, feeling the familiar calmness that overcame him whenever she was around. As if on cue, Siri entered the living room, rubbing the sleepiness off her face with her hand. Before she opened her eyes, she smiled, knowing who was in front of her.

"You going to make it through the day?" she asked quietly, opening her blue eyes.

Obi-Wan nodded tiredly. "I'll manage."

"You know Padmé can handle herself," Siri said, knowing what was bothering him. She approached him slowly, stroking his face once as a reassurance.

"Padmé is a brilliant woman," Obi-Wan conceded, leaning into his wife's touch. "But she still makes mistakes. She's just as flawed and Human as the rest of us."

"Try not to worry."

"I can't not worry," Obi-Wan sighed. "I've been looking after her since she was born. It's basically ingrained in my soul at this point."

"Well, I may not have originally been part of the family, but I care for her too," Siri remarked.

Obi-Wan smiled at her. "I never said you didn't. You grew up with her, anyway; it wasn't like you lived far away."

"Two blocks is far away when you're a little kid," Siri laughed before sobering. "But seriously, Obi, try to relax. It'll be over soon enough."

Obi-Wan nodded, trying to listen to his wife.

Imperial Center glowed rosy pink as the orbital mirrors engulfed half the planet in dawn's light. Tarkin watched the view for a time before glancing into the traffic lanes to see if his shuttle had arrived yet. Not recognizing any of the vehicles, he took a deep breath, inhaling the morning air and impatiently glancing at his chronometer. He had an early meeting with the head of Intelligence and its results would decide his actions for the remainder of the day; he had to get going.

The sound of footsteps made Tarkin turn and look into the hangar where he stood. Darth Vader was approaching him. The man looked as impressive and powerful as usual, but his eyes were clouded, gazing sightlessly at the ground. Tarkin knew better than to ask him anything; Vader was on his usual morning stroll, and the grand moff knew better than to interrupt it. Still, he was curious as to what the young Sith was pondering; was it the dinner? Or was he thinking about something else? Did he even think about anything on his morning walks? As much as Tarkin knew of Vader's routines and rituals, he only knew the superficiality of them and nothing more. Still, it was fun to guess; the Sith Lord was the biggest enigma the governor had ever met, and it was fascinating to try and figure him out.

Tarkin's thoughts were interrupted when Vader suddenly paused. Ah, so he was finishing his stroll. Now he would talk.

"Good morning, Lord Vader," Tarkin greeted just as the shuttle transporting military personnel to the senate building arrived.

Vader eyed Tarkin for a moment, probably collecting his thoughts from whatever was preoccupying him during his walk, but he said nothing. Instead, he nodded in acknowledgement and boarded the shuttle alongside the governor and a grand admiral.

"Lovely morning," the grand admiral remarked to Tarkin cheerfully.

"A clear one, at least," Tarkin replied, seating himself by a window and glancing outside. "Hopefully there won't be much rain."

"It's the wet season," the grand admiral sighed. "I doubt we'll have a dry day for the next few months."

Tarkin tossed a glance in Vader's direction. The Sith never engaged in small talk unless his assignment required it, so he sat alone, legs crossed, pondering once more.

The grand moff couldn't help himself. "Planning for a busy day, milord?"

The grand admiral looked briefly at the Sith Lord before directing his attention elsewhere. Tarkin didn't blame him; he had witnessed the man's promotion at Vader's hand – the previous grand admiral had been a little too… lenient for the emperor's tastes, and so Vader had murdered him in front of all his men. Pushing the matter aside, Tarkin watched Vader once more to see his reaction. The Sith Lord looked calmly at Tarkin, but as usual, didn't answer his question. Instead, he asked, "Is there something you need, governor?"

Tarkin shook his head, telling the Sith that everything was fine. The young man never answered personal questions, or if he did, he indicated that nothing was important apart from his mission, whatever it was that day. Tarkin knew better than to push his luck. Instead, he settled for reviewing his own schedule for the day, pushing Vader out of his mind.

Thankfully nothing of great consequence had been discussed in the senate arena. The most interesting vote was simply about a minute amendment to an environmental law concerning some random sector of Imperial Center, and even that took over three hours to debate. Siri sighed heavily before the conversation drew her attention back to the present.

"I'm sorry to hear about Kuna."

Padmé bowed her head slightly, remembering the brave Rodian. "We all are. I hope his family will be alright."

Senator Bail Organa nodded in agreement. The group was in his office, which was larger and more ornate than Padmé's due to Alderaan's high status in the former Republic. It was clear of listening and monitoring devices due to his aides, and so they could safely hold a conversation there. Eventually, Bail said, "I heard the emperor spoke with you the other day. Does he suspect anything?"

"He doesn't want me leaving Imperial Center," Padmé replied grimly.

"And he introduced us to Darth Vader," Siri added since she knew Padmé wouldn't. Her sister-in-law gave her a brief irritable look.

Bail's eyebrows rose in alarm. "Vader?"

"We have the situation under control," Padmé replied quickly. "Don't worry."

"If the Empire is on to you there's no point in remaining," Bail noted. "I can arrange for the Rebels to get you out."

Siri snorted. "Only if it's Al; that mynock owes me money."

"It's not quite that drastic yet," Obi-Wan said, catching both Padmé and Siri by surprise. "But it would be nice to have that ready, if necessary."

"I'll ensure everything is arranged and ready to go on a whim." Bail assured. "Be safe, all of you."

The three bowed in unison before departing and returning to Padmé's office. Siri began to gather Padmé's things as Obi-Wan nervously wrung his hands together, looking out at the dusty red light piercing the sky. It was dusk. It was time to go home.

It was time for dinner.

He hadn't seen Vader all day, but that was expected. The young Sith was probably scouting the area and stalking his prey as much as was possible. However, Tarkin had to see him; this was urgent.

Entering the emperor's antechamber, Tarkin searched around, heading for the security station. Since it held the most security information and the best surveillance, he figured he'd find Vader there. As he walked into the room he caught sight of the Sith silently watching footage.

Tarkin would normally say nothing; Vader could easily sense his approach and would acknowledge him when ready. However, this matter was too pressing to wait.

"Lord Vader," he acknowledged.

Vader turned, catching on to the man's urgency. He immediately stiffened. "What's the matter, governor?"

"I had several meetings today with Imperial Intelligence and the navy," Tarkin explained briefly. "From all the information that I have gathered, I'm fairly certain I've found the Rebel base."

Vader didn't react with surprise, anxiousness, or happiness. Instead he simply nodded his head in acknowledgement. "The emperor will no doubt want to hear of this."

"I am making my formal report to him this evening," Tarkin said, already expecting this sort of reaction from the Sith. "What I need, however, is for you to return to the field. Death Squadron must lead this."

Darth Vader considered his words briefly. "My will is the emperor's will. You must speak with His Majesty on this matter."

"I am requesting it," Tarkin replied somewhat impatiently; if the Alliance caught wind that the Empire had found them they'd vanish so fast Tarkin wouldn't have a chance to order anything to happen. "But you must attend the meeting with me. If the emperor agrees you must leave immediately."

"I have a dinner I have to attend for my current mission," Vader replied calmly. "If His Imperial Majesty wishes me to return to the field I will immediately do so, but until then I must follow his current orders. Good evening, governor."

He wasn't quite sure why he had even bothered to try convincing Vader to cancel his dinner date. The blasted man followed the emperor's orders at all times and never deviated from them. It was ridiculous for Tarkin to think the Sith would do anything outside of his objective. Tarkin supposed he was just getting a little overexcited from the news of the day; he needed to get to the emperor quickly to sort this out and get Vader's head on straight.

Not that the boy could really help his behavior anyway.

Hastily bidding Vader a good evening, Tarkin quickly went to the hangar and took the shuttle to the palace.

Glancing at her wardrobe, Padmé sighed. She wasn't going to wear her senatorial gown to dinner; she needed to impress Vader and get his attention. So what should she wear?

Her eyes caught a glimpse of a black dress and Padmé pulled it out of her closet. The corset was leather and strapless, and the floor length skirt had embroidery in it. A black gem encrusted necklace came with the outfit, along with fingerless black leather gloves. She smiled and put it on. This would do nicely.

Padmé emerged from her bedroom to show the dress off to her family. Siri nodded in approval with a smile while Obi-Wan stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"You look remarkably like a leather tube of toothpaste," he said, making Siri smack him on the arm.

"Thanks," Padmé replied, annoyed.

Rubbing his arm and giving Siri an irritated look, Obi-Wan said, "What do you expect me to say, Padmé? Could you possibly wear something tighter? Really, please, I don't think you're selling yourself enough with the look."

"Oh brother," Siri rolled her eyes. "It is a date, Obi, and we'll be the referees to make sure Vader doesn't do anything."

"Perhaps we should make sure Padmé doesn't do anything." Obi-Wan muttered.

"The dress isn't that bad," Padmé huffed.

"It's calling attention to all sorts of lovely places," Obi-Wan said dryly.

"Obi-Wan, that's the point – I'm trying to catch him off guard."

"Well you'll certainly do that."

"What about the food?" Siri asked to steer the conversation to another topic.

"I had Sabé make it. The protocol droid set everything up."

"Sabé? No wonder I was doing her work today." Siri grumbled before conceding, "Well, she is an amazing cook. You didn't tell her why, right?"

"I just said I had an important dinner with a high official," Padmé shrugged.

"All right, well just remember what we said we'd talk about," Obi-Wan hastily interrupted, his anxiety making itself known. "Keep the topics—"

A beeping signal from the door cut off his conversation and the three heard Padmé's protocol droid answering the call.

"Greetings. This is the residence of Senator Padmé Amidala and Representative Obi-Wan Naberrie. May I help you?"

"I have an appointment with the senator and her family."

Everyone froze at the soft sound of Vader's voice. Padmé felt her heart rate skyrocket before she quickly took a deep breath and nodded to herself, calming once more. Obi-Wan simply clasped his hands in front of him and closed his eyes, maintaining his composure, while Siri watched the entranceway where Vader would shortly appear.

After briefly telling the droid who he was and why he was there, Vader was led into the main lounge. He wore nothing particularly special: black pants, a black tunic, and a dark brown vest. His belt was adorned with different pouches and code cylinders, and a long cylindrical object that hung from a clasp.

His lightsaber. He was armed.

Padmé once again hastily calmed herself as she smiled and bowed to the Sith Lord. "Darth Vader, it's a pleasure to see you. I see you have your lightsaber with you; did you come expecting a battle? I promise the dinner will be calm and relatively uneventful."

Vader watched her, his piercing gaze burning through her. Despite her years of experience in political situations, he somehow managed to see through her façade better than anyone had ever done. Nevertheless, he didn't say anything antagonizing. "I always carry my weapon, senator. I trust it is not a problem."

Padmé and Siri both opened their mouths at the same time to reply, one saying it was slightly rude while the other said it was fine. Obi-Wan interrupted both of them by hastily gesturing to the dinner table in the next room. "Well, let's eat, shall we?"

Siri and Padmé both nodded and looked to Vader expectantly. The Sith began to walk towards the dinner table, and so everyone went and sat in their appropriate places, Siri beside Obi-Wan and Padmé beside Darth Vader.

"Has your day gone well?" Padmé asked as she placed her napkin on her lap, twisting it tightly to still her shaking hands. It was time to get to work.

Vader nodded.

The group sat in silence for a few seconds, the Naberrie family shifting awkwardly in their seats as Vader grabbed his napkin and ran his fingers along the edges, straightening miniscule wrinkles, before placing it on his lap. He then returned his attention to Padmé.

"You seemed busy today. You spoke with many senators. What did Senator Organa or Senator Mothma have to say to you?"

"The usual business," Obi-Wan answered for Padmé. "Conversations that are typically far too boring and tedious for dinner; I wouldn't want to give you indigestion."

"A more interesting topic is the one we were having just before your arrival," Siri remarked, making Obi-Wan and Padmé look at her confusedly. Vader turned his attention to her as well. "Representative Naberrie and Senator Amidala were discussing the benefits and pitfalls of starting their careers so early in life. As you probably already know, Senator Amidala began her political career when she was thirteen. Did you start your military career early as well?"

"You started early too," Vader stated. "You were fifteen when you began training to become a handmaiden to the queen. Why did you choose to become a handmaiden?"

"I wanted to serve the queen and Naboo," Siri replied, looking uncomfortable under the Sith Lord's scrutiny. "I knew I didn't have the patience for actually running for an office, so I figured it was the next best thing."

"Did you know Senator Amidala would be elected the year you finished your training?"

"I knew she was the princess and therefore was in line for election if the people would have her." Siri said. "We were friends, so I was hoping she'd make it, but that wasn't my primary reason for my choice of career."

Padmé hastily tried to get the conversation back where they wanted it. "You haven't told us about your own career, though, milord. Did you know early on that you would be a military official?"

"Yes." Vader replied before turning his attention to Obi-Wan. "Have you ever traveled to Shibé Lagoon, representative?"

Padmé felt her stomach churn. Shibé was an atoll lagoon that served as both a tourist hotspot and a meeting place for Alliance recruiters on Naboo.

"The real question is who hasn't?" Obi-Wan remarked with a smile. "It's a beautiful place to visit. Have you been there?"

"No, but a woman named Amaé is there—at least she was until Intelligence caught her." Vader said dryly, watching Obi-Wan intensely.

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, but said nothing. Padmé felt her chest tighten immediately and she nearly tore her cloth napkin; Amaé was a Rebel contact who would help people join the Alliance. None of them had heard of her capture; they didn't even know if Vader was lying or not. The very fact that he knew about her indicated that Intelligence was on to her, but it didn't guarantee they had her. Amaé was the woman's alias; she lived in a small village in safety under a different name. Assuming she had caught word that Intelligence was on to her, she could still possibly be at large and safe.

Vader was playing with them.

"Let's not forget the dinner itself," Padmé hastily said as she noticed Siri staring at Vader, not quite masking her horror at the idea of Amaé's imprisonment. "Salad, anyone?"

Obi-Wan and Siri acknowledged Padmé, but Vader continued to watch Obi-Wan carefully, making Padmé very nervous. Obi-Wan met with Amaé more than Siri – was Vader on to him?

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and looked Vader bravely in the eye. "Would you like some salad, milord?"

Darth Vader continued to watch him before finally lowering his gaze to his plate and nodding.

It was time to take control of this situation.

Straightening her back, Padmé said, "Lord Vader, I have a proposition for you. We know so little of you and you may not know everything about us. Perhaps an icebreaker?"

"I know of one we did when I was training," Siri piped in. "It was a list of twenty questions – nothing too obtrusive, but still fun."

"I'll ask first, then." Vader said, but Padmé shook her head.

"Now, now, milord, the hosts ask first," she said with a smile.

"I prefer a question for a question."

The Naberrie family exchanged glances before nodding. "Very well."

"So each person gets to ask one question," Obi-Wan immediately said before the Sith Lord could speak. "I'll go first; we can go around the table."

Vader leaned back in his seat; a small sign of acquiescence, but Padmé would definitely take it considering how this conversation had been going so far.

Obi-Wan started mildly, not wanting to be as straightforward as Vader. "What was your favorite activity to do as a child?"

"I didn't have a favorite activity."

"Not a single one?" Siri pressed.

"Is that your question?" Vader looked at her.

Biting her lip irritably, Siri said, "No… when did you join the military?"

"Many years ago."

"Oh come now, be specific or we won't be either," Padmé remarked with a forced laugh.

"Eight years ago. How well do you know Lord Ferjad, senator?"

Padmé gazed at him confusedly. Lord Ferjad was a Naboo noble who had retired during her term as queen, but she didn't know much about him apart from that. Whatever Vader was prodding around for, it wasn't anything she was involved in. "I'm afraid I only knew him for two months before he retired from the council. He seemed to be a kind man."

Now it was time for Padmé to ask the question. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, "How long have you known the emperor?"

"Eighteen years." Vader answered casually, catching Padmé off guard. He had struck her as being rather young, perhaps only a little older than her, but maybe he just looked younger than he really was. For him to know Palpatine for eighteen years implied that… but wait…

"But you said you were only in the military for eight years," Obi-Wan noted. "What about the other ten years?"

"You stated these questions were unobtrusive," Vader looked at Siri pointedly.

"True," Siri replied a little reluctantly. "Try a different question, representative."

"What's your favorite place of recreation on Imperial Center?" Obi-Wan asked with a forced smile.

"I have none."

Okay, let's stop asking for favorite anything… Padmé thought to herself. Vader didn't seem to have any sort of preferences at all, so those questions were wasted opportunities.

"Have you ever had a childhood crush?" Siri asked in a mockingly sly manner, just trying to steer the conversation anywhere that would make him uncomfortable.

"No. Representative, do you know anyone named Lesma Moek?"

Padmé felt sick; Lesma was Amaé's real name. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run to the holo terminal and warn Lesma. Instead, she pulled even harder at her napkin. Obi-Wan blinked a few times before grabbing his utensil and digging harshly into his salad. "I'm afraid not."

Her turn. "Why do you not seem to have any sort of favorites of anything?"

"I have no use for trivial matters."

"Eat your salad, milord," Siri immediately interjected, trying to slow the breakneck pace of the icebreaker (icebreaker… more like interrogation). "It's quite delicious."

Vader paused, and Padmé was worried he wouldn't listen to her, but he did take his utensil and delicately poke a few leaves, taking a small bite. This momentary lapse in his scrutiny seemed to lighten the mood tremendously, allowing everyone to just breathe for a second.

"Do you like it?" Padmé asked.

Vader swallowed and gave her a somewhat stern look. "It's not your turn for a question."

Padmé laughed at his seriousness. "That's not an icebreaking question, milord!"

Suddenly furrowing his brow, Vader quickly recovered and regained his neutral look. After Padmé repeated her questions, he finally shook his head.

"You don't like it?" Siri interpreted his response. "Why do you find it displeasing? What do you prefer?"

"I find it neither pleasing nor displeasing." Vader answered. As he opened his mouth to ask another question, Obi-Wan interrupted him.

"I don't know about you, but I do love this salad and would like to enjoy it some more before we continue our game."

Padmé silently thanked her brother and ate gratefully. There had to be a way to get this situation back to a conversation and not an inquiry. Vader was not only shameless but also relentless; what was he playing at? He wasn't being subtle at all in his manner; was the Empire so certain that they would risk leaking what they did know to a suspect? If that was the case, why hadn't he just killed her already?

Was that why he brought his lightsaber?

Padmé stared at her salad bleakly, losing her appetite. She was supposed to be the one making him uncomfortable, not vice versa. How could she turn this around?

"All right, on to the main course," Siri said with a smile of delight as she eagerly began to serve the food to everyone whether they had finished their salad or not. Apparently she had come to the conclusion that the sooner they ended dinner, the better.

This was ridiculous. Padmé had been the one to invite Vader; she was not going to lose to him. As Obi-Wan and Siri hastily dug into their dinner, Padmé gazed at Vader. "Do you have a favorite food, or is that a trivial matter as well?"

"I have no favorite food," Vader replied.

"Why?"

"You're jumping ahead again," Vader remarked, gazing at her intently. Again his eyes drifted to her shoulders just as they had yesterday, but he seemed completely unperturbed.

"Oh come now, we can't play icebreaker all night," Obi-Wan defended Padmé. "After all, you seem to have quite the advantage."

"There are three of you and one of me," Vader stated dully, making his point obvious.

"Yes, but you know so much about all three of us and you're not giving us much in return," Obi-Wan replied with a smile. "Come now, be sportsmanlike; why is a favorite food trivial? Don't you have any preferences?"

Darth Vader paused here; he seemed to be growing uncertain in his reply. Thank the gods – they were getting to him. Why they were making him uncomfortable over something as simple as a favorite dish was beyond Padmé, but by heaven she would take it. "I have no need for a favorite food."

"Why not?" Padmé pressed on.

"It's trivial."

"Why is it trivial?"

Vader fell silent and picked at his food. His face remained neutral, but his eyes glazed over as he suddenly became pensive. He eventually said, "Food is energy, nothing more."

"One can't enjoy it while he's nourishing himself?" Padmé questioned.

"There's no purpose to it."

Padmé laughed. "Sometimes you don't need a practical purpose for something."

Vader ate his food in silence, and his pensive look remained. Obi-Wan and Siri had already managed to finish their main course in record time and were watching Vader eat anxiously, chomping at the bit for him to finish. At least he wasn't asking questions for the moment. Perhaps some alcohol would help alleviate everyone's worries, and help increase Vader's pensive mood.

Grabbing a bottle, Padmé held it for Vader to examine. "Would you care for some wine, milord?"

Vader shook his head, continuing to eat in silence.

"You don't drink?"

Again, he shook his head. Blast it, before he wouldn't shut up and now he was mute? Had their conversation about favorite foods bothered him that much, or was he trying a different tactic?

"What do we have for dessert?" Obi-Wan asked Siri.

Before she could reply, Vader placed his utensil on the plate and asked, "Do you all drink often?"

Bemused, Padmé answered for the other two. "Well we all enjoy our wine; apart from Chandrila and Alderaan, I would say Naboo has the best wine in the galaxy."

"Nothing beyond wine, then?"

"Perhaps the occasional sturdier liquor," Obi-Wan replied with a shrug. "Do you drink much?"

"No." Vader said before standing. "I must leave now. Thank you for the dinner."

Everyone stared at him blankly for a millisecond before they stood and hastily bowed as he exited. His abrupt departure left them speechless until a few seconds after he had left the apartment. Siri eventually opened her mouth first, about to say something when Obi-Wan shushed her harshly. Pulling out a device, he scanned the apartment for any bugs that Vader may have left behind. When he found none, he pocketed the device and sighed heavily, collapsing on the couch in the lounge.

"What a hellish experience," he groaned. "No more dinners, Padmé, I'm begging you."

"This was a mistake." Siri shook her head. "You can't get to that guy—I knew he was a heartless son of a Hutt but good Force there's no possible way you can affect him!"

"He's just a difficult opponent," Padmé said halfheartedly. She herself was at a loss as to what to do. The last thing she wanted to do was give up, though; they still had no other option, and she was far too stubborn to bow down to the emperor's enforcer. "We had him in a corner for a while."

"Yes, when we talked about food," Obi-Wan retorted. "That'll obviously help us."

"Forget him for a second," Siri shook her head. "What about Lesma? We have to warn her!"

"If we tip her off, then Vader will know we're in contact with her," Padmé gasped just as that realization hit her—he had set a trap for them.

"But we have to help her!"

"If we help her, Vader will know we're with the Alliance. If we don't help her, she'll be tortured and killed." Obi-Wan groaned, putting his face in his hands. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"There has to be way to warn her without him suspecting us," Padmé shook her head fiercely; this was a nightmare.

"She may not even be captured," Obi-Wan interjected. "He could be baiting us with pure conjecture."

"He knows her real name!" Siri pointed out.

"Siri, you need to get in contact with Al," Padmé immediately ordered. "Find out if Lesma has been captured. If she hasn't, then we'll know he's baiting us."

"And if she has?"

"Then there's not much we can do…"

"Well if she isn't then, we have to get her out of there!"

"Al can get her out." Padmé tried to reason. "Just because a Rebel contact goes underground for a bit doesn't mean we tipped her off."

"Vader connected us directly to her." Obi-Wan reminded Padmé.

"Maybe we could make it seem like the entire Alliance operation there got tipped off," Siri suggested. "They could make a scene like they notice an agent or something."

"I'm not sure how that would work, let alone if it would work," Obi-Wan sighed heavily.

"It's better than doing nothing!"

"Siri has a point," Padmé agreed. "Get in contact with Al. The Alliance ought to be able to arrange something."

"I'll go now."

"No, wait!" Obi-Wan hastily said, standing. "Vader might be monitoring the apartment. Just wait until we go to the senate tomorrow."

"We may not have that long!"

"We have no choice. He outplayed us."

"Sithspit!" Siri swore, kicking the couch. "This is insane. You can't do this anymore, Padmé. You can't get near him."

Padmé shook her head. No, she had to go through with this. "I'm going to be near him whether I like it or not, Siri. This way I can do it on my terms."

"Or he'll make you think it's on your terms," Obi-Wan snapped.

Padmé whirled on him, ready to give a retort, but she had none. Calming herself, she eventually managed to look Obi-Wan in the eye firmly. "He won the first round, but I'll win the next one. I promise."

Tarkin bit back a growl of frustration. He was still on one knee before the emperor trying to plead his case, but he was steadily realizing that there was no way Palpatine would let Vader return to the field.

"Your Imperial Majesty, I understand that the case of Senator Amidala is a serious one – no one wants traitors in the heart of the Empire – but can't this matter be handled by Intelligence? They are the ones who discovered the Rebel contact in the first place." Tarkin tried to argue, keeping his head bowed.

"Darth Vader needs this test," the emperor replied cryptically.

A test? Palpatine was wasting the military's best enforcer on a test? "Your Majesty, you already seem to have enough proof to connect the senator to the Alliance. Why not just have her executed?"

"I have very little evidence to that effect," Palpatine corrected him. "I have suspicions, but no proof."

Since when did that make a difference? "Your Majesty has ordered executions for less information than this."

"Senator Amidala is extremely popular with the people," Palpatine explained, his voice growing silkier as he grew annoyed with Tarkin's persistence. "Killing her without proof will cause uprisings. While these can be dealt with easily, she will simply be replaced and the inner workings of the Alliance will remain untouched. I want more than just the senator—I want the Rebels."

"You'll get the Rebels if you allow Lord Vader to take his fleet to—"

"The Intelligence reports about the location of the Rebel base are even more circumstantial than those about the contact," Palpatine snapped, finally losing his patience. "Investigate the matter for yourself, governor; I left this in your care. You can handle it without Darth Vader."

Well, that was that. Gritting his teeth, Tarkin stood and bowed deeply, backing out of the room. The instant the doors were closed he hissed out a foul curse and stormed down the hallway. It was true; he could handle the matter without Vader. He could confirm or refute the Intelligence reports. But if that base was there, and they managed to destroy it, that guaranteed nothing. They had no clue who was there, they had no clue if it was the main base or a side base, and if they attacked prematurely, they would tip the Alliance off. Vader's fleet was the best and operated best under his command; he was stealthier than an assassin, more cunning than an Intelligence operative, more intuitive than a Jedi. Yes, Tarkin could get the job done without Vader, but with Vader he could not only destroy the Rebel base but every single Rebel in the galaxy. Tarkin was not one to waste resources.

But apparently, the emperor was.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Tarkin punched the call button for a lift. When one finally arrived, the door opened to reveal Vader standing there, making the governor jump slightly.

"Milord," Tarkin acknowledged with a bow. "You're back awfully early. I presume you're going to your quarters."

Vader nodded mutely, taking a step back to allow the governor to enter the lift. After entering, Tarkin didn't hit for any floor, allowing the lift to rise to Vader's destination.

"How was dinner?" Tarkin asked.

"Productive."

Tarkin took this reply with a single nod of his head. That meant it went well by Vader's standards. Maybe he could finish his mission quickly so Tarkin could utilize him in the field. "Do you have enough evidence to get her killed?"

"No."

The two stood in silence for a time, Tarkin brooding slightly as he watched the Sith Lord. Vader stood still, focusing on nothing, but his eyes were alight with a thousand thoughts. Yes, that dinner apparently was quite productive. But still, he got back awfully early…

"Did you even eat?" Tarkin asked.

Vader nodded.

"How much?"

"Enough."

Typically, that response would be adequate; Vader would have no reason to lie about such a trivial matter. But since he was looking like he had a million thoughts on his mind…

Tarkin sighed heavily. "Milord, do you plan to retire anytime soon?"

"No." Vader said as the lift door opened to his floor. He left without another word. Tarkin sighed again, hitting a button for one of the main floors. After arriving there, he briskly went to the enormous palace kitchens and made a request of the nervous cooks. Ten minutes later he carried a tray with a small meat wrap and a bowl of chocolate ice cream to the lift and leaned against the wall as it sped to its destination.

Darth Vader had no favorites, no preferences, nothing of the sort. He liked nothing, he did nothing outside of his rituals and his duties, and he showed no interest in anything. But one thing Tarkin had learned to observe was what Vader did more readily, more eagerly. And for many years now, every time Vader ate dinner, he would eat until he was full, but when meat wraps were served he would eat more than usual, and Force forbid any chocolate ice cream be within his reach, for it would vanish in a heartbeat. He never ate in a hurry, but he would most definitely ensure he ate every single scoop of ice cream in sight. Whether the young man was even aware of his preference for the food or not, Tarkin didn't know, but he did know this…

Entering Vader's quarters, Tarkin placed the tray on the table. Without having to say a word to Vader, the Sith grabbed the food as if he had been expecting it and ate heartily.

Sitting across from the Sith Lord, Tarkin only said, "Finish that job quickly, milord. Kill the senator and be done with it. We have more important work to do."