Padraig sat on the edge of the chair in the spacious office, his hands clasped on his knees. When he had heard that Padawan Anneke Skywalker was to escort him back to Naboo, he had contacted his old mentor. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Chancellor."

Palpatine tutted. "Come now, Padraig. We've known each other for way too long to stand on ceremony."

"Of course, Palpatine. I apologize." It felt strange to use his personal name now that he was Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Senate, regardless of their shared history.

"Now," Palpatine said, leaning back in the luxurious chair behind his desk, and clasping his hands across his stomach. The huge pane of glass behind him set his face in shadow and his grey hair caught the light and made a halo around his head. When had he gotten so old? "What can I do for you?"

Padraig shifted in his chair, unsure of how to start. "Do you remember the war five years ago, when the Trade Federation blockaded Naboo?"

Palpatine nodded. "Of course. That was when I was elected."

"Right. Yes." Padraig picked at the hem of his tunic, studying the grey carpet. "Just before the war, I ended up on an outer rim planet—Tattooine—and the Jedi with me discovered a Force-sensitive and brought her back to the Temple."

Palpatine raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

Padraig bit his lip, focusing on the strip of dark red wall above the window. "She's been assigned to protect me now and… I can't stop thinking about her." He met Palpatine's eyes. "I think I'm in love with her."

Palpatine blinked, then smiled, leaning forward with his elbows braced on the polished dark grey surface of his desk. "But that's wonderful. When can I meet this girl?"

Padraig shook his head. "You don't understand. Jedi aren't allowed to have romantic attachments."

"Well, that hardly seems fair." Palpatine stood and paced along the windowed wall, his hands draped behind his back, shaking his head slowly. He stopped and turned to face Padraig. "Do you truly love her?"

Padraig nodded helplessly.

Palpatine's eyes bored into him. "What are you willing to do for her?"

Padraig took a deep breath. "Anything."

Nodding in satisfaction, Palpatine turned away. "Good. Good. I will help you."

Padraig blinked. "What—?"

Palpatine spun around, his laser gaze pinning Padraig again. "Do you want her or not?"

Padraig straightened his shoulders. "Yes. But the Jedi Council—"

"You let me worry about the Jedi Council," Palpatine said. He put his hand on Padraig's shoulder. "I just want you to be happy, my young friend."

The Starfreighter was huge, its hold filled with many people who didn't have the credits to travel more luxuriously. The noise and smell of so many beings was almost overwhelming at times, though right now most were sleeping. It was the last place assassins would think to look for the former King of Naboo and his Jedi protector.

Padraig sat on the floor next to Anneke's sleeping form, the rumble of the engines and his thoughts keeping him awake. The vote coming up in the Senate on the Military Creation Act—he did wish he could be there to help defeat it!—and the personal danger he was constantly in these days were nearly always at the forefront of his mind, but Anneke was right there, a strand of hair straggling across her forehead. He had an urge to brush it back, but didn't want to wake her. She looked so peaceful, completely comfortable lying on the floor with her head pillowed on her pack.

Wrapping his arms around his knees, Padraig turned to survey the other travellers. Not that he had any interest in them, but it felt wrong to watch Anneke while she slept; it felt like an invasion of privacy. Of course, there was precious little privacy on this tub, but still.

"No," Anneke mumbled, and Padraig turned back toward her. She was still asleep, but no longer peaceful. Her brow was furrowed and she shook her head back and forth. "No! Mom!" She thrashed her arms as if trying to escape the blanket he had thrown over her when she first drifted off. "No…!"

Padraig put his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. Leaning over, he said, "Anneke? Wake up!"

Her eyes flew open, and she half sat up, looking wildly about her. Then she fell back against her pack, and threw her arm over her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Padraig hadn't taken his hand from her shoulder—didn't want to do so. "You were—you seemed to be having a nightmare."

From behind her shielding arm, Anneke mumbled, "I'm fine."

Padraig sat back, letting his hand fall to the floor beside him. She wasn't fine, but she obviously didn't want or need his comfort. "We went to lightspeed while you were sleeping."

Anneke lowered her arm, calm once again. "I'm looking forward to seeing Naboo again. It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

Padraig smiled, remembering his home. "It may not be as you remember it," he warned her. "Time changes things."

"Sometimes," Anneke agreed, her eyes meeting his. "Sometimes for the better."

Padraig shivered a little at the intensity in her eyes. There was something about a Jedi's gaze that seemed like they could see into your soul. He swallowed and looked away.

She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. Through the thin fabric of his tunic sleeve, her touch was almost too warm.

Padraig's eyes snapped up to meet hers as if he were compelled. For a moment, caught in her gaze, he couldn't breathe. Palpatine's question came back to him: 'Do you want her or not?' Oh yes, he wanted her. But did she want him?