Chapter Ten: Murderer

"Sure," Luke replied, tossing himself down on his bunk, then rolling over to face me.

I sat down on the bunk by his knees, and paused. How was I supposed to start this conversation without rousing his suspicions? "I was just wondering why you objected so strongly to the idea of a disguise," I said at last.

He looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, this is going to sound kind of stupid," he replied, "but I've always been told I look like my father, and I didn't want to lose that, you know? My looks and my name are the only parts of him I have. I don't want to lose them."

"So you never knew your father?"

"Nope. He died before I was born. Uncle Owen always told me he was a navigator on a spice freighter, but Ben says he was a Jedi, and that Uncle Owen didn't really like that much – didn't want me following him."

"Your uncle raised you?"

Luke nodded. "And my aunt Beru."

"Well, what about your mother?" I asked.

Luke gave a small laugh. "Funny thing is, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru aren't even sure who she was – or is, maybe. Aunt Beru remembers this one girl my dad brought home to the farm once, but she doesn't know if she's my mom or not."

"That must be hard," I said. "Not knowing who your parents are, if you wanted to."

Luke gave me a funny look. "You phrased that weird."

I felt a slight blush stain my cheeks. "Sorry. I'm adopted, you see, but I never wanted o know who my birth parents were."

He sat up. "You're adopted? I didn't know that . . . and you don't want to know? Why not? Aren't you curious?"

I nodded. "I am. But I'm also curious as to why they gave me up. And I'm not sure that's a question I want to know the answer to." I shrugged. "I suppose I should have asked while I had the chance, huh?"

His eyes went wide in sympathy. "Oh, Leia . . . I'm sorry."

I tried to smile bravely. "Can't change it. Just – take my mind off it, will you?"

"How?"

I shrugged again. "Tell me about yourself."

He blinked in confusion. "Okay . . . what do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me."

He propped himself up an elbow and frowned in thought. "Uh . . . I was born on Empire Day," he said. "How's that for ironic?"

I looked over at him. "Empire Day, as in the first Empire Day?"

He nodded. "Yeah, why?"

My jaw sagged a bit. "Because that's my birthday, too!"

He stared at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!"

"That's so weird!"

"I know! We have to have a joint party."

"Deal."

He looked absolutely thrilled. Truth to tell, I was too. It was a rather juvenile thing to get excited about, but I was excited all the same.

"So, tell me about this Jedi father of yours. Did he die in the Purges?"

Luke shrugged. "Ben never really went into any detail, just said he was an awesome pilot and warrior, and a really good friend. He said Vader killed him personally." He looked up at me. "See why I can't be afraid of Vader? He killed my father, Leia! If it weren't for him, I would've had my dad growing up. So I have to help you guys fight the Empire, and I can't be afraid of Vader. I've got to honour my father's memory."

I was in shock. And I was furious. Vader had killed Luke's father? Not for the first time, and likely not for the last, I could have happily slaughtered Vader myself.

I managed one more question before I made my retreat. "What was you father's name, Luke? Maybe we could find a picture of him or something in the Archives."

He perked up. "You really think so?"

"Sure." My smiled felt forced. "Why not?"

"It was Anakin," he said. "Anakin Skywalker."

The little boy in my dream.

Vader killed that sweet, gorgeous little boy.

And so I got angry at Vader. Again.


I now had more answers than I had time to process them. I crawled into my bed and lay flat on my back, eyes closed, attempting to sort out all the information.

Vader had killed Luke's father, whom I had dreamt about, and now wanted Luke to join him in ridding the galaxy of a tyrant . . . by corrupting Luke in the process?

How did that even make sense? Vader was even more twisted than I thought.

I rolled over, vowing not to let it happen.


It was midnight, Coruscant time, and everyone was in bed. We were in deep space by now, and I reveled in the sheer smoothness of it. In atmosphere, I almost always got motion sickness, but not out here, among the stars.

I moved across the main room toward the console. Sabe had left the monitor on, as I'd asked, and I quickly found where she'd saved the recording of Sio Bibble. I was about to watch it when I heard someone shifting in the corner.

I turned around and saw Anakin sitting in the far corner. He was curled into a tight ball under a blanket, and yet he was still shivering like a leaf in the wind. My heart ached for him.

I walked quietly over to him, careful not to wake Jar Jar, who was snoring on the floor by the door, and sat beside him. He twisted his head to look at me; for a moment I was afraid I had scared him, but I soon realized that was not the case. Uncannily, he had already known I was in the room.

"Are you alright?" I asked him softly.

"It's v-v-very c-c-cold," he replied, the tears in his eyes falling down his cheeks as his shivering shook them loose, despite his best efforts to hold them back.

I handed him the over-jacket of my handmaiden uniform. "You're from a warm planet, Ani. Too warm for my taste. Space is cold."

He tucked himself up in my jacket and buried his feet under my leg. Even through his socks and my leggings and skirt, I could feel his icy toes. Peering over the collar of my jacket, he said, "You seem sad." His voice was muffled my the fabric.

I took a breath and began the act. "The Queen is worried. Her people are suffering – dying. She must convince the Senate to intervene, or . . . I'm not sure what will happen."

He gave me a small, hollow smile. "I'm . . . I'm not sure what's going to happen to me, either. I don't know if I'll ever see you again." He sniffed and ducked his head under my coat and his blanket, seemingly looking for something. After a moment, he reemerged and handed me something. "I made this for you," he said. "So you'll remember me. I carved it out of a japor snippet. It'll bring you good fortune."

I inspected the object in my hand. It was a necklace, with a thin wooden charm that must be the japor snippet Anakin was talking about. On the wood, a symbol was carved; it was beautiful and inticate, though I didn't know what it meant. I put it over my head.

"It's beautiful," I said sincerely, "but I don't need this to remember you. Many things will change when we reach the capital, Ani, but my caring for you will always remain."

"I care for you too," he told me, a soulful expression in his big blue eyes, which began to well up with tears again. "Only . . . I miss . . ." He couldn't go on.

"You miss your mother," I finished for him.

He nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks again. I put my arms around him and held him close, rocking him gently until he fell asleep.


"There is still good in him."

I sat straight up. "You again?" I muttered.

Whoever it was didn't deign to answer my question. I flopped back and rolled over, pulling the covers over my head and promptly falling back asleep, resolving to look up this Padme Naberrie soon.