Obi-Wan held back an enormous yawn. It had been hours since Al had contacted him, and he was only just now getting to the Promenade; an accident had occurred right at the taxi pad, and Obi-Wan either had to walk to a different sector or wait for the accident to be cleared. Considering it took on average three hours to drive through a sector, he figured waiting would be the better option. Since he was by fire and security personnel he knew it would be a little safer than lounging elsewhere. He was right, but it somehow left him even more exhausted… no doubt because it was seven in the morning.

The dreary hazy atmosphere didn't let in too much sunlight at this hour, but it was enough to make Obi-Wan feel even worse. He hated seeing the sun rise when he hadn't slept at all the previous night. It somehow struck him as a huge smack in the face from the galaxy as if to say well you may feel exhausted but we're just going to drag you through the mud and force you to endure another day! Or maybe that's how Siri had put it once. He wasn't sure.

Al and Siri were already aware of the situation, but there wasn't much they could do, honestly. Maybe Al's ship would be ready by the time Obi-Wan finally got back to the Promenade. He'd be eternally grateful if it was; he could just go to sleep if that were the case.

When he heard the security officers telling someone the delay would only be a few more minutes, Obi-Wan finally sat up. He had been leaning against a wall near the taxi pad for hours, and his body was slightly stiff. Standing, he stretched and did his best to keep his eyes open. After a few minutes (that felt like hours) he finally hopped aboard a taxi and notified Al and Siri of his approach.

When the taxi arrived at the Promenade, the hazy morning made the place look different. It was chilly and far more abandoned than it had been four hours ago. Obi-Wan hastened to the enormous golden statue of the Hutt in the center of the lower area, getting a little splashed by the fountain that surrounded it. He caught sight of Siri and Al and went to them.

Al looked like a wreck. His black hair was sticking out in all directions, and despite his very dark complexion Obi-Wan could still see shady circles under his green eyes. He stifled a yawn behind a slightly tremulous hand, and he swayed on the spot. Siri didn't look much better, her eyes bloodshot and her face red as if she'd been rubbing it incessantly.

"About time you got here," Siri muttered, her voice rough.

"I couldn't exactly help a traffic accident," Obi-Wan remarked.

"None of this would've been an issue if we didn't have to pull a kriffing all-nighter…" Al grumbled.

"You think I'm any happier about it?" Siri snapped.

"It was your idea in the first place!"

"Enough," Obi-Wan cut in tiredly. "What did you find out in the Red Light Sector?"

Al blew out an irritated breath. "Just give me a sec, I'm trying to get my half-conscious brain organized…"

As Al squinted at nothing in particular before rubbing his eyes with a groan, Siri looked at Obi-Wan. "You don't look that great, either."

"Yes, well, I'm not as young as I used to be when we'd stay up all night in the service corps," Obi-Wan replied. He briefly recalled the long nights that they'd sometimes spend, planning for the next day and then just partying because they never had time to relax while on assignments.

Siri laughed. "You're only twenty-five. That's not ancient, you know."

"Right now I feel ancient," Obi-Wan groaned.

"Right, got it," Al snapped his fingers. "So! Salkende is at war."

Obi-Wan blanched. "What?"

Siri rolled her eyes. "You couldn't have just told me while we were waiting?"

"I wanted to just say it once," Al replied indignantly. "You know how annoying it is to repeat yourself?"

"Why is Salkende at war? Who are they fighting?" Obi-Wan interrupted.

"It's a civil war," Al explained. "Salkenden culture surrounds the family – clans to be exact. These clans are central to all life on that planet, and they can get to be kriffing huge sometimes. Apparently this one clan started a war with the ruling clan so they could take over the planet and they're still fighting."

"I wonder which side the senator is on?" Siri thought aloud.

"Probably the ruler clan's side," Al surmised. "Otherwise he wouldn't be a senator right now."

"Salkende isn't the only planet in that sector." Obi-Wan noted. "The other worlds have to be in agreement. From what I know of Tlenden, he's very popular with his sector."

"That's because he visits everybody and listens to their complaints, and anybody who bothers to watch senate sessions knows that he is pretty outspoken when he thinks something is stupid or wrong." Siri said. "Yet he won't join the Alliance. We could help him squash whoever the upstarts are."

"At this rate, I'm not sure the Alliance can do much of anything," Obi-Wan sighed. "We've lost both our bases, supplies have probably come to a halt…"

"So how are we going to join them at the end of the recess?" Siri asked.

Obi-Wan felt his gut clench. He'd been wondering that for a long time now. "I don't know."

As the three stood there listening to the sound of the large fountains around the statue, Obi-Wan recalled what he had witnessed before Al had contacted him. "By the way, I saw something very odd back in the Corellian Sector."

"What do you mean?"

"There was an Imperial there. He was dressed in civilian clothes, but you could still tell – and he spoke with a Coruscanti accent. He met up with some woman and asked for a serum of some sort—Kelathik, I think."

Al gasped. "Kelathik? What the krif would an Imp want with that?"

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked. "I've never heard of it."

"It's designed to mess with certain tests," Al answered. "Force detector ones, most notably. It makes your midi-chlorian count go haywire – at least that's what they claim it does. I did a bit of research into it because it was in really high demand in the core worlds – what it actually does is it masks them. Makes it seem like you've barely got any in your cells. Doesn't take much, either; midi-chlorians are insanely tiny, even for microcellular purposes."

"Wait, what the blazes are midi-chlorians?" Siri asked.

"They're Jedi makers is what they are," Al replied in a whisper as if it were a top secret topic. "Scientists used to think they were how the Jedi used the Force. See, the Force was this big energy field thing, and the midi-chlorians were the way the Jedi could hear and use the big energy field thing."

"Big energy field thing?" Obi-Wan repeated dully, staring at Al.

"What, you can explain it better?" Al accused. "Anyway, the more midi-chlorians you had, the better you could hear the Force. Like having more receivers, you know? Nobody figured out how midi-chlorians worked or the genetics of them or anything – huge research topic that's unexplored because the Empire made it illegal to study."

"So why haven't we heard about it?" Siri folded her arms.

"Because the Empire erased all knowledge of it, except that it's how you can find out if somebody has the ability to use the Force." Al said. "And you know what happens when somebody is Force sensitive."

"They kill them." Obi-Wan supplied. "I can see why it would be popular in the core worlds."

"Yep! They've got mandatory midi-chlorian counts on all children born in the core worlds," Al nodded sagely. "I heard they were trying to expand it, too."

"They are," Obi-Wan nodded. "They didn't say anything about midi-chlorians, but I recall the senate mentioning that it would alter a law to expand a test to the expansion region and mid-rim. They were making a decision on the funding of it. But that was in the form of a security bill—they were just debating the finer points of it right before the recess."

"A security bill?" Siri repeated. "Wait, yeah, I do remember that… that's what they meant?"

"That's still really weird that an Imperial would want it," Al noted, rubbing his chin. "Unless he's trying to hide some Force sensitive kid of his or something."

"But why would he make himself so obvious?" Obi-Wan asked no one in particular. "His behavior made no sense."

"So they already did the trade?" Al asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. He was just arranging for the trade. They're meeting back there in two days."

"I can have a friend stage the place," Al offered.

Siri jumped. "Friend? If you had a friend, why didn't we stay at their place?"

"Because this friend lives on the streets and is just a very good informant," Al answered.

Siri sighed heavily.

Obi-Wan pondered the matter for a while longer and then he agreed with Al's suggestion, telling him the time and place they would meet.

"Kelathik serum…" Al muttered. "I could really get into that. If they're spreading the tests, the demand's going to skyrocket."

"So glad we didn't have to worry about that," Siri laughed.

"We were born before the Empire," Obi-Wan pointed out. "It wouldn't have mattered, anyway."

"True." Siri conceded before looking at Al. "So when's the ship going to be ready?"

Al looked at his chrono. "About five more hours."

Obi-Wan and Siri both groaned in dismay.

The kitchen of the lake retreat was well stocked with plenty of food to last the entire recess. Frozen nuna and shaak were the main meats provided, but there was also pikto, nivobo, and even some haava meat, a rare delicacy on Naboo. Along with these meats, there were so many fruits and vegetables Padmé couldn't even begin to list them. Some bread was readily available, and she had been using it alongside nuna eggs and some nutty pastes for meals so far. Dinner yesterday hadn't been too much of a concern since neither person had seen each other; also, both were still tired from their odd sleep schedules, but today… today they were going to dine together.

Padmé didn't know why she was suddenly nervous. She'd certainly shared plenty of lunches with him and even breakfast this morning. She supposed it was because the last time they had dinner it… hadn't gone so well in her favor.

This time would be better. It would finally be the real rematch she had been looking for. She'd keep things simple while still probing to just figure out who this guy really was – honestly that was her goal at this point. She'd let the attachment form itself; she just was determined to be nice to him and learn about him.

Except there was no dinner prepared.

Padmé was suddenly reminded of Sabé again; she had made the dinner for them last time. Sabé had always loved to cook.

Shaking the thoughts out of her mind, Padmé sighed. She could do this. She could manage to be nice to the man who killed her friend. She could. She had to.

That still left the matter of what the blazes they were going to eat. She supposed she could make some sandwiches, but that didn't seem very dinner-like. Or polite, for that matter; she had invited him here, so she might as well feed him properly.

Padmé hadn't seen Vader since he had returned from sparring (though what or who he'd be sparring with was beyond her), and that was five hours ago. She wondered if he was even going to show up for dinner. Surely he was hungry, especially if he had exercised.

Staring helplessly at the food in the freezer, Padmé pondered on what she was going to make. She could thaw the meat quickly, but it would get rid of a lot of the taste – she remembered Sabé ranting to Siri about doing such a thing after a handmaiden training session when Siri, completely exhausted, had thrown some meat into the thawer without a second thought.

The door to the kitchen opened, making Padmé jump and whirl around. Darth Vader entered, seemingly unaware of Padmé's presence. Or maybe he already knew she was there. She didn't know. She didn't know how Sith figured everything out; the only facts anybody knew about Sith Lords was that Vader was the only one and that meant he could use the Force. Not exactly much to go on, honestly; there hadn't been Force users since the Jedi were wiped out twenty-one years ago.

Just in case he hadn't noticed her, Padmé cleared her throat softly. Vader either didn't hear her or just ignored her. He walked straight to the refrigerating unit and pulled out some bread rolls, nut paste, and a jam. Slathering the paste and jam on the rolls, he munched away silently.

"That's not much of a dinner, milord," Padmé noted, closing the freezer to face him fully.

Vader glanced at her and ate another bread roll in response.

Padmé sighed. "No meat?"

"Nothing's thawed," Vader pointed out.

"I know."

"Didn't plan for dinner, then."

"You didn't plan?"

"No, you didn't plan."

Padmé felt her ire rise a little. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you didn't plan for dinner," Vader repeated slowly, as if to a little child.

"I know what it means—"

"Then why did you ask?"

"Never mind," Padmé cut in, annoyed. It was suddenly becoming very difficult to be nice to him. Maybe he was just getting her back for her actions earlier… though honestly, judging from the dull expression on his face as he ignored her once more, she wasn't even sure he remembered what had happened earlier.

Though she did notice he was armed once again. Blast, had she scared him that much?

Motioning towards his lightsaber, she asked, "Expecting something?"

Vader paused and glanced at his weapon. "No."

"Then why are you carrying it?"

"Because."

Padmé felt her ire return. "You're just trying to annoy me, aren't you?"

Vader shook his head, his mouth full.

Sighing, Padmé turned around to face the freezer once more. "We could always just quick-thaw something."

When she got no response, she glanced behind her, but this time she said nothing. Vader was looking at her exposed back, a slight blush to his face. Hiding a chuckle, she returned her gaze to the freezer. She grabbed some nuna meat, but just before she could close the freezer door, Vader asked, "Is that ice cream in there?"

Padmé paused and stepped aside so he could see into the freezer. "I believe so. It looks like chocolate."

Vader watched it for a while and then simply nodded, returning to his snack.

Padmé smiled. "You like ice cream?"

Vader paused and looked at her. "Do you?"

Padmé shrugged. "It's okay. I prefer pastries… especially those made by Nilbau at her shop near the senate. Have you ever had her pastries? They just melt in your mouth."

The Sith Lord didn't seem to know what to say at her remark, so he continued to eat until he finished all the bread rolls. He turned to grab some more when Padmé laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I'll make you something more substantial, milord. Let's just thaw some of this meat and we can at least have nuna sandwiches."

Vader pulled his arm from her touch, but he nodded in acquiescence nonetheless. Stepping back to let her work, he stood in a corner, motionless and silent. Padmé worked quickly to make the food and then put it on two plates. She grabbed the plates and then turned to face him with a smile before nodding towards the door. "Let's eat in the dining room."

The two settled at the table as they had done at breakfast. As the two began to eat, Padmé noted that he was eating far more delicately now. She didn't know why that observation was significant, but it just stuck out to her; he had been practically stuffing entire bread rolls into his face earlier, but now he seemed the pinnacle of etiquette.

Dinner was spent mostly in silence until Padmé brought out some wine. "I know we only had sandwiches, but it's too good a wine to waste. Have you ever had Naboo wine?"

Vader glanced at the bottle and then her. Then he shook his head. Padmé belatedly remembered that he claimed he didn't drink back on Imperial Center. Still… was that because he actually didn't drink, or was it because of his supposed behavior change? He didn't protest as she poured the wine, so she figured maybe he was a little more casual when off Imperial Center.

Handing him the glass with a smile, Padmé raised hers in a toast. "To the Empire, milord."

Vader tipped his glass towards her in response and then sipped. Padmé was busy swirling her wine and sniffing it in delight when she suddenly heard him cough softly. Looking up, she saw him staring at the wine with a furrowed brow. "Is something wrong?"

Vader jumped, not noticing her scrutiny until now. Then he quickly shook his head and put his glass on the table.

Padmé raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior, but she let it slide. Instead, she began a conversation. "So, I wanted to apologize again for earlier. As I've said before, I can get… carried away sometimes. But that aside, what you said about the anti-alien laws really does warm my heart. I'm glad you share my belief on that. It's a pity you're not involved in politics, or you could help me and the representative on this matter. Though honestly, milord, what were you doing in the senate tower all that time?"

Padmé knew his true reason for being there, but she was still curious how he would answer. He had never really given her any sort of explanation; the one time she had asked (the first time they had actually held a conversation, she now realized), all he did was confirm that the senate wasn't in danger.

"The emperor wished me to be there," Vader answered after a brief pause.

I'm sure he did. "Ah, I see. Well I'm glad you were – we would have never met, otherwise."

She knew by this point that Darth Vader would not speak unless directly asked a question, so she didn't expect him to carry the conversation beyond that. Instead, she changed topics. "I can't get over being here. It's been a long time since I had a chance to relax. You said your family never went on vacations? How could you survive that? I think even I would go crazy, and I always maintain a busy schedule."

"You have been busy," Vader noted. "You've been in public service since you were thirteen."

"Well, yes, I have, but I was asking how you managed," Padmé prodded, not letting him change the focus of the conversation.

"I…" Vader shifted in his seat, looking at the table. "I have ways of managing."

Before Padmé could ask, Vader looked at her. "How do you relax?"

Sighing, Padmé indulged him. "A lot of times I visit family, if I can. If not, then I… I dance."

Vader blinked. "You dance?"

Padmé let out an embarrassed laugh. "Well, yes. I love it, it's so much fun. I used to torture poor Obi-Wan for hours making him practice dancing with me. Siri used to joke that I danced with her husband more than she did."

"So why did you come here, then? This is neither of those methods."

"Well, it's still being around people I care about," Padmé replied as cheerfully as she could; she didn't want to scare him any more than she had. "As for dancing…"

Getting an idea, Padmé stood and left the room, grabbing a music chip. Placing it in a receiver, Padmé picked a nice waltz and then put the receiver on the balcony rail. She then beckoned Vader, who had been watching her actions. "Care to dance with me, milord?"

She knew it was a long shot. He didn't like being touched at all, let alone having constant contact. Still, since it was customary to never touch people you weren't familiar with on many core worlds, there were also plenty of dances that didn't include any sort of physical contact.

Darth Vader watched her silently, looking conflicted. He'd glance at the stars, then the wall, then the receiver, then back at her. His brow would tighten, then relax. He took some deep breaths. Eventually he said, "I don't know how to dance."

Padmé gave a gentle smile. "I can teach you."

The Sith Lord was silent for a long time. To Padmé's surprise, however, he nodded and stood, walking to her.

A new waltz started with string instruments slowly bringing the piece in. Padmé placed Vader right in front of her, and she could immediately tell from his stiff muscles that he was nervous. Instead of comforting him, though, she just held her right arm at an angle in front of her, her palm up. She then motioned to his right arm, advising him to do the same. Vader raised his so it was hovering a few centimeters from hers. Then Padmé raised her dress slightly so he could see her feet move as she counted aloud with the beat of the music. One two three, one two three, one two three… Padmé took a step backwards with her right foot, staying on her toes. Her left foot joined her right, placed just behind it, and then she took a small step with her right to place it just behind her left in beat with the music. One two three… She motioned for Vader to follow her. He took two large steps to catch up to her, and she laughed. "Do it like me, milord. I go back with my right, you go forward with your left, and vice versa."

Then she did the same motion, starting with her left foot. Vader hesitantly followed her lead, placing his right foot first. After doing the motion a few times, he finally seemed to be getting the hang of it. The man was surprisingly graceful; once he realized he was supposed to mirror her, he became as smooth as silk in his movement. His gaze moved from his feet to hers before he finally looked into her eyes. Padmé changed directions to prevent them from running out of room, and she felt her arm tire a little. As she stepped forward, she lowered her right arm and raised her left in the same position. Vader followed suit. The two wordlessly danced back and forth to the waltz, gliding to one end of the balcony or the other. In that moment Padmé finally did feel at peace; she hadn't been lying when she said she found dancing to be one of the most relaxing things she could do, even if it was with Darth Vader. She was surprised how comfortable Vader seemed as well; the two were making direct eye contact, but neither felt awkward or compelled to say anything. She let herself grow lost in the deep blue irises, and her thoughts became blissfully free. There were no concerns over anything or anyone; just the two of them dancing.

Eventually the waltz ended and Padmé let out a small laugh, curtseying. "You're a very fast learner, milord."

"I've done similar to this." Vader replied.

"Well you have the Coruscanti waltz down well." Padmé remarked. "Perhaps we can learn some more complicated moves?"

Vader nodded, and the two were dancing once more. Just as before, he learned quickly, though sometimes they would almost bump into each other, garnering a startled look on his face and a laugh from her. Eventually the two were waltzing calmly once more.

"This is nice," Padmé said honestly. "It's been a while since I've been able to dance."

"There are parties at the palace."

Padmé snorted. "I don't typically get invited to those – I'm not quite important enough. Besides, I think those parties probably get too crowded anyway. It's also very hard to talk to higher officials when all they can do is speak so highly of themselves."

After a pause, Padmé asked, "Do you go to those parties often?"

"Occasionally."

"Do you enjoy them?"

"I can tell you don't."

"But I'm asking if you do."

"No."

"Why not?"

Vader grew silent. He didn't seem to have a proper response to this, so he just shrugged.

"So," Padmé began, mulling over information in her mind. "You've known the emperor for eighteen years and have been in the military for eight years. Judging from your pragmatism, you strike me as very duty bound to the Empire… yet you agree that it could use some cleaning up. If you're so dedicated to the Empire—and quite determined to never give yourself some down time, apparently—then why don't you do something to improve it?"

"I do as the emperor asks. Nothing more."

Something in his tone made Padmé shudder a little. His statement seemed so completely honest, as if he were stating his core belief in creation.

"Wouldn't the emperor appreciate some feedback?"

Vader stopped dancing. "Feedback?"

"You know, your opinion," Padmé suggested. "I'm sure he'd be happy to lend you an ear since you seem so close to him. How exactly did that happen, anyway? No one heard of you until you were already the top dog. I presume that's how it always is in the military, but eight years is an awfully short time to climb the ranks, if I may say so."

"I served my purpose."

It was an odd answer, to be sure, but Vader said it quite curtly, so Padmé let it drop. In fact, as soon as the dance finished, Vader offered a small bow and left.

"What did I say…?" Padmé muttered to herself. The question might have been a little prying, but it wasn't really much worse than anything else she had asked or said. Well, she supposed she'd have to find out later. Strolling back into the dining room, she sat at the table and sipped her wine in solitude. Eventually she cleaned the table and went to bed, too tired to worry about it for the day.

The next morning, Padmé rose and cleaned herself up quickly. She dressed in something far more modest while still having some playful flirtation to it. It was a yellow dress with pink flowers embroidered into the bodice and white flowers in the skirt. It was a thin strapped gown with a lace shawl that fell off her shoulders. She used some colorful ribbons as armbands, and she arranged her hair in loose buns with some hair nets and smiled at her reflection. She liked this outfit better than yesterday's.

As she walked towards the balcony to see the beautiful morning and enjoy the crisp air, she noted that Vader's room was once again unoccupied. When she arrived on the balcony, she saw him walking down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Walking."

Again? "Do you do this every morning?"

"Yes."

Vader hadn't even looked in her direction this time until she asked, "May I come along?"

He paused and glanced at her. His eyes examined her, and his face seemed to soften slightly before he shook his head and left. Padmé sighed. She didn't quite understand, but she was starting to get the impression that these morning walks were some sort of private ritual, so she'd stop offering to join him on them. In the meantime, she could at least make breakfast for them both… and then perhaps enjoy a good book. Heaven knew she hadn't had time for a relaxing read in ages.

As she did these things, she couldn't help but wonder about Obi-Wan, Siri, and Al. She hoped they were alright; at this point they should have been at Salkende, at least for a little while. Hopefully they were figuring out whatever was wrong with the place and why the senator refused to join the Alliance. Even more hopefully (but at the rate things were going, even less likely), they were also convincing him to join anyway, and offering some sort of alternative to overcome whatever issue he had.

Then she thought about their predicament in general. At the end of the recess they were going to join up with the Alliance permanently. There would be no going back to Imperial Center. Padmé had no fondness for that planet, nor did she enjoy having the nail biting stress of playing spy in the heart of enemy territory, but she still worried that they were abandoning their posts. They hadn't run their decision by the Alliance, anyway, and… it just felt wrong. She didn't want to stop helping – she felt like she was doing something useful, something with purpose. She wasn't sure if she'd feel that way if she wasn't spying, despite both Obi-Wan's and Siri's misgivings on the matter.

Sighing, Padmé lounged in a chaise for a while, ignoring the book she had grabbed. Her mind was too busy with other thoughts to be reading. Her musings were interrupted when she heard Vader returning from his stroll.

Rising, she left the lounge and entered the dining area, where he was entering from the balcony.

"Milord, I was wondering," Padmé began carefully. "Since it's a beautiful morning out, perhaps we could have brunch outside? I've got plenty of materials for a picnic. We are here to relax and enjoy the scenery, after all."

Vader nodded in acknowledgement, turning on his heel to walk back outside. Padmé laughed. "Well, wait; I have to get everything ready."

Grabbing all the necessary items, Padmé picked up the basket and followed the Sith Lord outside. The morning was comfortably warm, which meant it would probably be relatively hot by noon. Padmé led Vader through the grass towards the edge of the island where there were plenty of waterfalls nearby. It was her favorite spot in the whole retreat. She placed a tablecloth on the grass and then sat, putting the basket on it. Patting the spot beside her, she invited Vader with a smile to sit down. He did as requested, gazing at the surroundings.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Padmé prompted.

Vader looked at the waterfalls, then her, then at the food. "What's for breakfast?"

"Some egg sandwiches," Padmé answered, pulling the food out. "Along with some fried atpeks."

Vader took the plate she offered him and ate silently. Padmé breathed deeply, enjoying the smell of the waterfalls and the breeze they provided. She allowed for the silence as the two ate, but once they were finished and she put the dishes back in the basket, she stood without grabbing anything else. "Come on, let's go the falls."

Vader watched her, his face neutral, but he didn't hesitate for too long. Rising, he followed her to the edge of the island and the two removed their shoes and dipped their feet in the water. Padmé gasped at the coldness and then laughed. Vader barely flinched.

"I see you're accustomed to the cold, then?" Padmé giggled.

Vader looked at her. He didn't seem to know what to say, so he returned his gaze to his feet. Padmé happened to glance at his feet too when she noticed something odd; his right foot had some dusty pink mark on it that stretched like a tree or a leaf from beneath his pant leg to the middle of his foot. It branched a few times and then faded into his skin. Motioning to it, she asked, "Is that a tattoo of some sort?"

Vader followed her gaze and looked at his foot. "No."

"What is it?"

Vader said nothing, stepping out of the water and sitting on his feet. He stared at his reflection silently. Padmé got an odd feeling and decided to not push the matter. Instead, she sat beside him.

"Sometimes I wish my life was more like this, and less like what it is on Imperial Center," Padmé sighed. At this point, she was just trying to bring forth any conversation. He was unusually quiet today.

"What is your life like on Imperial Center?" Vader asked, looking at her. "All I see is your time in the senate building."

"That's basically my life right there." Padmé moaned. "But I guess it's for a good cause."

"What does that mean?"

Padmé glanced at him, wondering if he really meant what he was asking. Well, she supposed she could be sincere in her answer. "I… sometimes wonder if I'm making a difference. I already know democracy has died, but I just wish it was still there in some form… like being a senator really meant something beyond being…"

"Being what?"

Should she complete her sentence? She wasn't planning on saying anything treasonous, but it was still pretty controversial. Well, Vader had admitted that he though the Empire wasn't perfect, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"Being a pawn." Padmé finally said. "That's basically what we are. We're just Palpatine's little playthings. He makes all the decisions. We don't really do much of anything except argue on the details of whatever the emperor thinks is unimportant."

"Such thoughts lead to actions that could rectify the matter."

Padmé jerked her head to face him once more. Was he suggesting treason? No, that couldn't be it. Padmé had to remind herself that the entire purpose of her interacting with this man was because he was assigned to ensure she wasn't a traitor. He just wanted her to slip up.

You'll have to be sneakier than that. She thought to herself. But as she heard herself saying these words in her head, she sighed heavily. She wasn't sure what she could believe; he had seemed sincere in his thoughts about the anti-alien laws, but if he was just trying to trip her up, did he really mean what he said? Or was he actually being sincere now? He was acting so radically different from Imperial Center, she wasn't confident in any sort of conclusions she was drawing.

Instead, she just decided to voice her concerns… sort of. "Why are you so different away from Imperial Center?"

Vader shifted, watching the water intently. "I… have to act differently there."

"Because of the emperor?"

Vader paused. Then he nodded.

"Do you prefer to be away from Imperial Center?" Padmé asked. "Or are you just happy to be doing your duty?"

"I can tell you don't prefer Imperial Center."

"I can't imagine who would," Padmé replied. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I don't."

"You don't prefer Imperial Center?"

"No."

Padmé nodded slowly, taking the information in. She still wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not.

Then Vader took the initiative. "You said yesterday that you became queen to help people, and you're a senator to try and maintain democracy. Yet you prefer to stay on Naboo. Why deal with the conflict? Why not just stay here?"

"I wish I could," Padmé said honestly. "But then I wouldn't be doing everything I could to help others… I try to place everyone before myself. My needs aren't nearly as important as an entire galaxy's… or my family's for that matter. And family always comes first."

Vader looked at his reflection. He whispered her words. "Family comes first."

"Yes," Padmé said firmly. She'd drop everything in a heartbeat if anything ever happened to her family. Seeing as two members of her family were in the Alliance, though, and the rest were maintaining relatively low-key lives, she didn't see that becoming an issue.

As she pondered these issues, Vader continued to watch the water, staring at his own reflection with quite a bit of intensity. Padmé eventually turned the conversation to him. "Do you feel the same about your family?"

Darth Vader said nothing, but this time Padmé wouldn't change the topic or ignore his silence. She would wait. She really wanted to know the answer to this. Vader had so far revealed these strange tidbits about himself that didn't seem to fit into a coherent picture, and she was starting to grow a little tired of the mystery that she had claimed to be so tantalizing two days ago.

She watched him for almost two full minutes, and it felt like an eternity. The crashing waterfalls were actually beginning to fray her nerves as she watched him – why wouldn't he just say anything? Padmé honestly didn't know why she was expecting something important to come out of his mouth; he could easily just lie, as he seemed to be doing that a lot… which was very odd because he had been quite frank back on Imperial Center. She supposed that went back to the whole Palpatine issue, but it didn't make sense; he should be less inclined to lie when he's away from the man.

"I don't have a family."

Padmé jumped, not expecting him to speak. Then his words washed over her, and she stammered slightly, trying to come up with a response. "You—what do you mean?"

"I don't have one." Vader repeated, still watching his reflection.

Padmé wasn't sure what to say. If he didn't have one, then why did he say they approved of his career choice? They weren't never there, then, right? "Were… did they die?"

Darth Vader was silent.

Padmé suddenly felt pity fill her. She had seen many orphans before, and every time she did she couldn't imagine just how terrible it was to lose all one's family. This made Vader's devotion at least make a little more sense – perhaps he saw the Empire as his family? Flawed but still there for him? "I'm really sorry."

"Don't waste your breath on the matter, senator," Vader said calmly. "I've no use for a family."

"You—what is that supposed to mean?" Padmé gaped at him, stunned by his harsh words.

Vader finally looked up from his reflection to stare at her. "I've no use for a family."

Any pity she felt for him vanished, replaced with anger. Padmé scoffed. "Well I figured you wouldn't be the type to settle down and get married, but what about your parents or siblings? Didn't you care about them? Didn't you love them?"

Vader's mouth slacked open a little, his eyebrows rising. "Love? Love? Love is a useless and weak emotion; there's no room for it in life."

Immediately after saying this, Vader leapt to his feet, storming off, but Padmé was not going to stop the conversation there. Standing, she ran after him. She'd had enough of this insanity. She couldn't tell whether he spoke truth or lies, she couldn't tell if she had to be more or less obvious, she couldn't tell if she was making him like her or just being ignored… she was at her wit's end. She was kriffing tired of his strange ways of speaking or thinking.

Catching up to him, Padmé stood in front of him, cutting off his line of escape. Throwing caution to the winds just to see how he'd react, she said, "And what if I were to say I love you?"

"Then you're pathetic and deserve to be crushed like everyone else," Vader answered coldly.

Padmé felt anger sear through her like fire. "Well it's a good thing I was lying, then!"

Vader's hard look suddenly vanished. He stiffened and stared at her, his gaze suddenly clouding. His brow furrowed a little, and then he looked away. Padmé was baffled by his behavior; why was he bothered by her refuting her declaration of love?

Padmé said, "You… surely you didn't actually believe me, did you? You don't… you're not…"

She couldn't even finish her statement. If he was bothered by her apathy towards him, then did he have some sort of attachment for her? She hadn't actually succeeded in what she was trying to do, had she?

Vader seemed to catch what she was implying and he immediately looked at her. "I have no such pitiful feelings for you, senator. I just…"

Vader looked away once more. "I made a mistake."

At that, he turned to another direction and started to walk away.

Made a mistake? "What do you mean you made a mistake?"

Vader paused, but he didn't face her. He remained like this for a while, and Padmé didn't make any motion to go to him. He seemed rather reluctant to answer her, but he also seemed like he had already made his mistake. After all, if he hadn't wanted her to ask what he meant, he really shouldn't have said that, and they both knew it.

Eventually, without turning, Vader said, "The governor… the governor told me to never believe or trust politicians."

The governor? "Governor Tarkin?"

Vader nodded.

"What was your mistake, then?"

Vader finally turned and looked at her pointedly. "I believed one."

Padmé stood there, stunned. It was so odd that this was bothering him so much. True, one didn't declare their love lightly or toy with other people's emotions, but he obviously wasn't torn up about not being loved—just being duped. Had he really taken her so seriously? Had he really believed her that much? She thought it would be rather obvious that she didn't actually love him—even someone she was trying to seduce would know that it was just lust or some other motive that was causing her behavior, not love.

Suddenly Padmé started to feel guilty. Vader was a hard man to read (which was putting it insanely mildly) because he never gave straightforward replies unless they were so blunt that they both held no room for argument and really said very little anyway. But just this once, he was dead serious and honest, and she had apparently just broken what little trust he did have in her. But it was an obvious lie—blast it, she was so confused.

"I…" Padmé began to say, trying to figure out what it was she needed to say. Then she just got even more confused. "You said it was weak, though! Why would my lie bother you?"

Vader sighed. "It's the principle of the mater. I shouldn't have made the mistake."

He was admitting weakness—this couldn't be a lie. There was no reason for him to destroy his dignity if he didn't actually mean it, right? Trying to piece together what little rapport they had, Padmé ran over to him as he started to leave once more. "Milord, wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you; it wasn't my intent. I just… it's such a foreign notion to me, hearing you speak the way you did about love. Who taught you to think like that?"

"It doesn't matter. This conversation is over." Vader said curtly, and he moved passed her and departed.

Padmé sighed heavily. Heavens had she messed up. But honestly, how was she supposed to know he'd be so bothered by that? Besides, she had been telling the truth just now—she was so caught off guard by his awful words about family that she just had to push him to his limits like he was pushing her.

By heaven, when were Obi-Wan and Siri going to get here?

Shaking her head, Padmé calmed herself as best she could. She stood still, letting the sound of the waterfalls soothe her nerves. After about ten minutes she decided she needed to find Vader and try to make amends. Returning to the water, she grabbed her shoes and then his – since he left them it would be a perfect excuse to start a conversation. Slipping her feet into her own shoes, Padmé began wandering the island in an attempt to find the Sith Lord.

A strange sound was heard over the distant noise of the water. It was like a low pitched humming that would grow louder in a quick spurt and then become quiet again. Padmé had never heard such a sound before, so she followed it slowly until she turned a corner.

Darth Vader had managed to find the only shady spot on the island and was doing some strange but enthralling form of martial arts with—was this his lightsaber? She'd never seen one activated before. It was bright red, and when he would move it in a quick motion it would leave a trail of light behind it. Padmé watched, amazed at the technique; it was no doubt deadly, but it also looked beautiful. Eventually, she cleared her throat to get his attention. "Milord?"

Vader whirled around and his blade angled horizontally. In a heartbeat, it was singeing her neck. Padmé jumped with a yelp, her body immediately freezing afterward. The heat of the blade stung, and it had come so fast it felt like a smack. Vader's eyes were yellow and red—or was it just the reflection of his weapon?—and glowered at her. And then, in an instant, the look was gone. He deactivated his blade and took a hasty step back.

"Apologies, milady," Vader said in a thin voice, as if he himself didn't know what he had just done.

Padmé took a few gaping breaths to calm herself and then rubbed her neck, wincing at the slight burn that was left behind. "I-it's fine… you—you left your boots at the water. I was returning them."

As Padmé held them out like a peace offering, Vader hooked his weapon to his belt and took a step towards her. Padmé said, "Also, I wanted to apologize again. Truly, I am sorry, milord – I didn't mean to upset you."

Vader paused, his hand reaching for his boots, and he gave her a funny look. He hadn't already forgotten the argument, had he? It didn't seem likely. So why was he confused by her apology? Was he not expecting it? Did he think so little of her?

After his brief confusion, he took the boots from her and offered a nod. He slipped his feet into his shoes and then bowed, turning to leave.

"Milord," Padmé called hesitantly. Vader stopped, but he didn't face her. "I hope I'll see you at dinner. I promise we'll actually eat something substantial tonight."

She added the last statement to try and lighten the mood, but Vader only nodded and continued to walk away. Had she messed up that badly? At this point, she figured it wasn't that; he just needed his space. Judging from what she was discerning about the man, Vader was quite the introvert, on top of being almost emotionless—almost. Look at her; she was already changing her mind about him. Originally… well, what had he been to her originally?

A target. A threat. A challenge. A danger. A mystery.

So what was he now? Still a mystery, to be sure, and still most definitely dangerous. Padmé wasn't sure what else, though. She felt dirty thinking of him as a target at this point, and considering what he had stated about family, it was finally starting to make sense how he could do the atrocious things he did. Was he just inherently evil, then, or had someone instilled that into him? Padmé didn't know how old he was—he looked like he was around Obi-Wan's age, maybe a little older—but it was likely he was mostly raised and indoctrinated by the Empire. After all, he'd said he'd grown up in the Palace District.

Wait… what?

Now that she was really starting to think about it, a lot of things weren't adding up. Vader claimed that he grew up in the Palace District of Imperial Center. That area was for the highest ranking Imperial officials. But if Vader didn't have a family… it was possible they were dead, but it just didn't feel like she was getting the entire truth of the matter out of him. Honestly, that wasn't surprising, but it was frustrating. Sometimes the Sith Lord seemed quite sincere, but other times she wasn't sure. On top of all that, he denied basically anything that would indicate a normal life; was he in some rigorous military training? The most prestigious academy to train youth for the Empire was still a secondary school, so he would have at least had a normal childhood up to that point. Again, this wasn't adding up. And then he stated that he'd known Palpatine for eighteen years but had only been in the military for eight. So… did he know the emperor because of his parents? That did seem plausible, at least. But how had he risen in the ranks? How did he become a Sith?

Padmé shook her head. She'd have to sort these issues out with him, though probably not within the next few days. Just thinking about all of it was giving her a headache. Groaning, she headed back towards the villa; she needed to make dinner, anyway.

Thanks. Be. To. The. Gods.

Siri sighed as she fell onto the bed in heavenly bliss. Al had finally gotten his ship back, and they were just waiting for clearance to leave the spaceport at this point. She was eternally grateful for a shower and a bed. And her own kriffing refresher in general.

She heard Obi-Wan collapse on the top bunk (she had stolen the bottom since it was faster to access) and smiled, her eyes remaining closed. "You think Al's going to be conscious enough to get us out of here?"

"Hopefully," Obi-Wan replied in an exhausted voice. "He can sleep after we go into hyperspace."

"True," Siri conceded with a yawn. "Night, Obi."

"Good night."

Siri let herself go limp, completely relaxing. She was so bloody exhausted. She tried briefly thinking about how they were going to solve a civil war and convince Salkende to join their cause… but blast it, she was too kriffing tired.

She hoped Padmé was alright.

Padmé had to admit she was proud of herself. The dinner table was set beautifully, and there was enough food for twice the amount of people eating it. In the center was roasted shaak meat in a sauce, and four different vegetable sides, along with freshly made bread (which was a little singed, but Padmé never claimed to be the best cook). A lovely wine was already on display, and chocolate ice cream sat in two bowls in the freezer. It would be a great dinner.

Padmé stood facing the table and the balcony, waiting expectantly for Vader. He eventually arrived close to sunset. Padmé was a little annoyed when he simply took a seat and made no remark, but she also wasn't surprised; she was starting to grow used to his odd behavior, even if she didn't understand it.

Sitting across from him, she asked, "Did the sparring help?"

Vader looked at her confusedly.

"You know, to relieve stress," Padmé prompted. "Blow off some steam and the like."

"…Steam?"

Padmé sighed heavily. "Never mind."

The two ate in silence for a while, but Padmé's curiosity eventually pestered her too much to remain quiet. Instead of asking about him, though, she began by talking about herself. Maybe if she revealed more about herself, he would open up to her—and not just the get information out of you kind, but the sincere kind that would lead to conversations and less awkward interactions and… well, company.

"Milord, have you ever felt lonely before?" Padmé asked. Before he had a chance to answer, she continued. "I have. It's… I just… it's such an awful feeling, you know? It's like you're surrounded by people but you feel like you're not one of them. You feel like you don't know them, like they don't know you. It's as if you're in a different world from them, or you're a ghost. I keep myself so busy, but somehow it doesn't solve the problem. And Obi-Wan and Siri have each other… and I just have me. I represent billions of people—they all rely on me so they can be heard—but nobody… nobody hears me."

Padmé stared at her food helplessly. She had intended to elaborate on her question a little, but that had all come out way too fast. She hadn't meant to speak that freely. But blast, it felt so good, so freeing to say that. She never spoke about her loneliness to anyone. Sola would rub it in her face as a reason to give up her work, and she didn't want that. Obi-Wan would show that adorable awkward concern where he would try to give advice and sound like he had solved the problem without somehow saying anything that helped. Siri would take her out for a girl's night out and they would have a good time, but it was only a temporary fix.

Hesitantly, Padmé looked up, expecting to see a blank look or perhaps a confused one. Instead, Vader was staring at her, frozen. His eyes were slightly wide, his mouth a little slack, his hand paused with food on the utensil. He looked floored, enthralled, terrified, and bemused all at once. It was like some sort of world shattering realization had hit him, or like his philosophy of life had suddenly changed.

"That's… that's loneliness?" he asked quietly, almost urgently.

And then it hit her. He knew that feeling. He lived that feeling. And he hadn't expected her to know it too. But… he didn't know it was loneliness?

Padmé nodded silently. Vader looked down, putting his food back on his plate. He looked lost all of a sudden. Abruptly, he stood, ready to leave.

"Milord, wait," Padmé said softly as she stood. "What's wrong?"

Vader shook his head, and he began to walk away.

"Milord," Padmé called again. Walking to him, she motioned to the balcony with a tender smile, as if she were reassuring a youngling. "Let's dance first. You did so well yesterday."

Vader was hesitant, but eventually he nodded, following her to the balcony. Padmé started some music and the two took the same poses as yesterday. Padmé led, as was tradition for Coruscanti dances, and the two waltzed across the floor, smooth as flowing water. No words were exchanged – none needed to be. After realizing that Vader shared something with her, especially something that intrinsic to her, Padmé finally found some common ground. She didn't need to interrogate him anymore; she didn't need to force herself on him. And somehow, despite his lack of emotion, he seemed to see it too. He was far more relaxed than before, and he eventually closed his eyes as they danced. Although they weren't touching, he somehow knew where to go, how to follow her. He was trusting her lead. Trusting her.

Padmé was breathless.

When the dance ended, Vader opened his eyes and bowed slowly. Padmé bowed in return. Neither said anything. They only looked at each other for an instant before Vader left, but it somehow didn't break the spell. Instead, Padmé made her way back to her bedroom before pausing and backtracking. She went to the kitchen, grabbed a bowl of the chocolate ice cream, and then left it in front of Vader's door before going to her own room.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :)