A/N: There's a shoutout moment in here for all the folks who have also obsessively rewatched the AOTC blooper reel over the years. In addition, the happiest of congratulations to Hayden Christensen, who won a Saturn Award for his work on Kenobi on Tuesday! Well deserved!

II. SPACE

Chapter 6. Jendirian Valley

I stepped from plank to plank
A slow and cautious way;
The stars about my head I felt,
About my feet the sea.
I knew not but the next
Would be my final inch.
This gave me that precarious gait
Some call experience.

- Emily Dickenson

I held my breath more than once on our journey from the boarding deck up to our assigned floor on the Jendirian Valley, but as far as I could tell, we didn't draw any attention. After our show to the gate agent, Anakin wanted to pause any conversation until we safely reached our final destination aboard. I complied with a simple nod, pleased to be given ample opportunity to observe the passengers bustling around us.

And, truth be told, I found myself suddenly very shy after our enthused demonstration. I was shocked at how easy it had been to fold into Anakin, how pleasant it felt to feel his arm around me and stand so close. I was grateful to not have to switch into forced chitchat after such an unexpected wave of feeling.

The freighter was stopping first on Alderaan before progressing on to Naboo, but its voyage would not stop there. It would move on to two more planets before circling back to Coruscant. All around me, I saw exhausted faces on the young and the old. Many held suitcases, but a discernible amount shuffled along with only the clothes on their backs. Some of these refugees were only recently escaped from their worlds. Plenty others had been staying in huge holding bays on Coruscant— indoor shelters, which grew more crowded by the week as they'd waited for their immigration to be approved. Some of the worlds we'd be docking at had stricter rules about admittance than others, and this impacted the waiting time to be processed.

{Hope you've got your chip, 'cause we're booked up if you don't.}

My step faltered and my airflow hitched in my throat. With great pain, I realized that however Dormé had managed to secure us last minute travel, it was fairly possible— even probable— that two refugees who'd been in wait for passage were pushed back to later flight as a result. Yet again I cursed whoever was orchestrating the assassination attempts. The target they'd dropped on my back triggered ripple effects that continued far beyond me.

In between my efforts to fight the Military Creation Act, I'd spent as much time as I could using my Senatorial position to advocate for the refugee process. I'd pushed for better accommodations in the holding bays, expedited processing, and more personnel to help with the mammoth operation. It was one of the reasons why seeing the overworked agent at the gate had so distressed me. All of my advocating wasn't just for political show— it was no mere coincidence that refugee freighters were stopping on Naboo. But the irony wasn't lost on me that I was now a passenger in the very system I'd worked to improve.

Passengers were only assigned floors, not specific lots. I presume this was to keep the quota of passengers evenly spread out throughout the ship. But once on your designated floor, it was a first come, first serve race for the best space to call home for the nineteen— or longer— hour flight. Whether it was the Force guiding him or just Ani's height and sharp eyes, he spotted the miraculously empty alcove in the back left corner before I did. It was perfect. We had walls on two sides, a tower of crates on another, two beds, and a direct line to the freshers without being too close to be concerned about either the traffic or the smell.

As I laid my suitcase on top of the brown sheet of my cot, I gave my companion an approving smile. "This is wonderful."

He looked back at me, surprised and clearly skeptical. He was scrutinizing my face as he questioned, "You think so?"

"Well," I paused, thrown by his apparent disbelief. I'd thought the perks of our area were obvious, and I hadn't expected to have to explain my positive reception to them. "It's not right next to the buffet line, but I think it'll work just fine."

Ani's frown lines lessened but didn't disappear entirely. "I just figured…" He hesitated, his eyes dropping to the ground.

"What?"

"Well, you're so used to traveling at a much higher level of, ah, a much higher standard of—" He rubbed the back of his neck, the very picture of discomfort. With a loud exhalation, he let go of his neck, only to wave his hand in a general gesture at the space around us. "I was worried you'd think this was all beneath you."

I looked back at him, slightly stunned and more than a little offended. "The comforts come with the job, Ani, but they're not why I took it, nor why I keep it."

He bit his lower lip and nodded with a heavy head. It was the closest thing to an apology I was going to receive. I was glad I'd said something— I didn't want him under the assumption that I was a spoiled diplomat.

"Are they alright with you?"

The crown of his head shot up at my question, but he only met my eyes briefly before skirting them away again. His voice was quiet as he replied, "Clean sheets. Plenty of food a short walk away." He smirked with a quick shrug, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "No master looking over my shoulder. This little corner is a palace compared to where I've slept most of my life."

It didn't go unnoticed that he'd used the word palace to describe the area to a former Queen who'd actually lived in one. Ani didn't seem to me the type to court pity, so instead of saying anything that might be mistaken for it, I offered him a small smile before busying myself with the best place to stack my suitcases.

Not long after, I asked Ani to move a few of the nearby crates into a row in between our beds. The cots were already several feet apart and pointing in different angles alongside the two walls, but even as our alcove provide ample privacy, the specific space itself still felt a little too open for my comfort. While he did so without a word of objection, there seemed a distinct lack of enthusiasm about him as Ani completed what I'd asked.

We were sitting in a comfortable silence on our respective beds for a few minutes until a knock on a tall box— not unlike how one would knock on a door when requesting admittance— caught our attention and turned our tidy travel plans upside down.

"Hello!" By said box, a petite woman with three children at either side was looking at us with an energetic air, even as she almost seemed out of breath. The younglings— two boys and a girl— all had her style of brown curls, though they had not yet inherited the streaks of gray she herself was far too young to have. A man, his arms crossed over his broad chest, stood behind the brood, his lips turned down in clear disapproval.

"Hello," I repeated back, giving a polite smile as Ani and I each came to a stand. Although there was nothing yet apparent as far as what we could do for them, I offered, "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Come away, Raloma." The man behind the woman urged, annoyance lacing his tone. "Leave them be."

Ani eyed the pair. "Is everything alright?"

The girl, maybe around age eight, eyed Ani with a shy smile before tucking her face into her mother's skirt.

The woman, Raloma, darted her eyes back and forth between Ani and me. "Yes. Well. No. You see, we had some trouble getting up to the floor—" she sternly eyed one of the young boys with a look every exasperated mother eventually learns, "Got a little held up when someone wanted to run off and do a tour of the atrium down below. Well, so, by the time we got up here, all the spots with multiple beds were taken."

As much as my heart went out to this woman and her family, I had a sneaking suspicion I knew where this was going.

"I see." I looked over her children once again, then back at her. This time, I read the energy in her eyes more correctly. She was gearing up to plead.

"We weren't that far behind you back in the boarding line, and we heard that you just got married—"

"Congratulations, by the way." The man, his arms still moodily crossed over his chest, spoke out gruffly. I got the sense from his tone that he meant the words sarcastically.

Despite his manner, never dropping her sweet disposition, Raloma continued, "Oh! Yes, congratulations. And, like I said, by the time we found a spot, it was the worst of the leftovers." Her eyes suddenly widened. "No! I mean, it's fine for two people. Plenty of space for two people. Really close to the cafeteria line, too, if you like food. But we—"

"Wow! An astro droid!" The face of one of boys lit up, and he took an eager step towards Artoo. His mother snatched him back.

"But— come here. We were hoping—"

"Oh, Raloma, leave them alone. We'll be fi—"

The woman snapped her head around and spoke to her mate with an unmistakable drop in courtesy. "I'm not going to have them crawling over me for thirty hours while you snore away on the only bed." As smoothly as it was obviously well-practiced, Raloma turned to face us again, the smile plastered to her face once more. "Would you mind, being newlyweds and all, well, possibly… switching?"

My mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Nervously, I stole a look at Ani. His expression matched mine.

I looked back at the poor woman and saw that her gaze had shifted to the crates in between the beds. She suddenly looked up at me with a mixture of confusion and fear. Whatever her impression of the fence I'd asked Ani to erect, it sorely depleted the confidence she'd had coming into this. After all, what kind of newlywed pair not only sleep in separate beds, but put a barrier up between them? And in the first half hour of arriving on the transport?

I looked again at Ani, who now was studying me. Not taking his eyes off my face, he cleared his throat and spoke first. "I'll happily follow whatever my, uh, my wife," a hand made a small, nervous wave in my direction, "wants to do."

I don't know which is more ridiculous— my brain's initial reaction to hearing Ani speak of having a wife, or the fact that it took another full second for me to remember that wife was supposed to be me.

At his pronouncement, Raloma's eyes fixated on mine with borderline desperation.

Wherever we'd be moving to, all other details aside, there was only one that mattered. There would only be one cot.

I took one last look at her expression and the three children clinging to her skirt. Saying no was never an option. "Of course. We'd be happy to switch with you."

"OH! Oh, thank you!" Raloma rushed forward and put her arms around me, the children stumbling to a stand where she'd left them in her wake. She held me tightly but quickly, swiftly moving over to Ani. I couldn't help but let out a light laugh at his expression as she similarly wrapped him in her arms. After his shock, a warm smile broke out over his face. He wasn't bothered by her antics. When Raloma stepped back, she kept her hands on his forearms and nodded appreciatively. "Quite a handsome one you got here, girl." Raloma sighed wistfully and put a hand to Ani's cheek. "They always start out so beautiful when they're young."

The man several steps behind her let out a disgruntled sound from the back of his throat. He muttered something under his breath, but I only caught the words "funny braid."

Neither party had unpacked anything yet, and so we completed the switch with relative ease. Before we left, Ani offered to move the crates between the beds back, but Raloma was quick to assure him it wouldn't be necessary.

Her mate led us back to their original spot after we got our suitcases together and made to follow. When we arrived, Ani and I discovered a fourth child, another boy, holding the space in hopeful anticipation of us. Seeing him, I immediately felt better about my decision.

The man and his son gave us a wave and final word of thanks, then disappeared to join their family in the alcove. Our polite smiles faded with the steps of the passengers we'd gifted our corner of the universe to, and as Ani and I took in our new surroundings, a feeling of dread knotted in the pit of my stomach.

I meant what I said earlier— I was no pampered princess, and the conditions themselves did not phase me. However, I wasn't blind. I knew Ani still carried a level of affection for me that went beyond the professional. I likewise hadn't forgotten the way my body reacted to his stare in the mirror this very same afternoon. As warned, the space we'd moved into had one bed, which laid opposite a two stacks crates. More crates on either side served as chairs. The area would've been impossible for the family of six to function in, but it likewise felt impossible to exist here considering who I was sharing with. There was barely room for my suitcases. How was I to spend nineteen hours avoiding his intense stares when we'd practically be right on top of each other? There were only so many trips to the fresher I could take as an excuse before Anakin suspected I had a medical issue.

The air between us grew more awkward the longer we stood there taking in our new accommodations. Eventually, my 'husband' turned to me with a nervous smile. "At least it's close to the food." He wasn't wrong. The buffet line was only a few meters away.

I didn't reply. That was a perk he alone could bask in all he pleased.

He must've seen the apprehension on my face; his voice was even more packed with nerves as he bravely tried again. "I bet you're missing your yacht now, huh?"

I shook my head in faint protest. I pushed away the fear that, even if I were on a spacious Nubian yacht the size of the royal cruiser with Anakin, I would likely feel just as anxious as I did now. "Not at all," I answered, without spirit. I don't think he believed me.

We found a spot for the suitcases on the ground near the top of the bed. There was a bungled moment when we each went to sit on the mattress at the same time, both of us springing back up to our feet and offering the seat to each other— even though, really, there was plenty of room for both of us on its long side. Ultimately, Ani's graciousness won out, and I perched on the edge of the bed while he fidgeted at a stand near the crates. The level of awkwardness got even worse when he promptly took a seat at the makeshift table on one of the boxes. Suddenly, we were sitting directly across from each other with nothing really to say.

Despite my more introverted nature, or perhaps because of it, I pride myself on being able to make friendly conversation with pretty much anyone I cross paths with. I've always been apt at thinking of ways to get discussion flowing even with the most tight-lipped of strangers. But the more agitated and neurotic I watched my counterpart become, the more my own discomfort grew. With dread, I began to panic that the already long nineteen hours would be absolutely eternal. Will it be like this on Naboo, too? Am I going to be hiding from him on Varykino?

I strongly suspect my continued silence in particular was driving Ani's madness higher, as he gestured a little too enthusiastically at the buffet line and said, "Lunch? I can go grab it."

I nodded, relieved. At least the quiet between us could be more easily excused if we were both shoving food into our mouths.

Ani had to make two trips in order to secure both bowls of soup and beverages for us. The odor of the culinary offering was questionable, but my stomach grumbled all the same at the sight of it. We took our seats at the table to begin our meal. Although my hunger drove me to pick up my spoon with rapid speed, I caught sight of the cautionary steam rising from our dishes just before raising my filled utensil to my mouth. Ani's hunger, unfortunately, did not grant him the same powers of observation.

This became evident when, after a loud slurp, he suddenly leaned away from the table and tossed his spoon back into the bowl. Quite loudly, he cried, "Gods, that's hot!" His fingers flung in the air for a second before they went to cover his lips.

I was about to laugh until I noticed he'd garnered the attention of a group of toddlers sitting on the floor near us. They'd looked up at his outburst with not a little trepidation, and their caretaker gave Ani a reproachful look. Seeing them as well, Ani did his best to reassure, pulling a hand away from his mouth long enough to form a repentant smile.

Perhaps because of how loudly he'd howled, the silence felt that much more palpable when we resumed eating. Both of us, especially Ani, took extra care to blow on the liquid from our bowls before gingerly sipping it, which became the only soundtrack of our conversation. At last, I thought of something to say, though it was hardly my most creative work.

"That's a good scarf on you."

"Thank you. Yes."

Another long moment stretched on.

"It's Chimiliean silk."

"Oh."

Another unbearably long pause. Spoons clanked against bowls. More slurping.

"It was a gift. From the representative of Chimili."

"Oh."

And with that, I gave up.

Before we'd begun eating, I noticed a young, thin, human woman with purple hair pass by our adopted lot twice. She'd stood out to me more because of the focused way she'd looked at us rather than for the color of her hair. I noticed this scene continuing even as we were seated at the table. At first, I thought she was a hungry patron sniffing out the buffet line. And yet, every time she passed by us, her hands were always empty.

On her fourth rotation, where once again she studied us with a quizzical expression, her brown eyes met with mine. Caught, she rapidly jerked their view elsewhere and hurried past. On her fifth turn, I thought it time to bring the girl to Ani's attention.

"Ani, have you noticed the young woman who's taken an interest in us since we moved to this spot?"

He didn't look up from his bowl. "The one with the purple hair?"

I should have suspected. He was a Jedi, after all, even if only an apprentice.

"Yes."

"I have." He swallowed. "But she hasn't been staring at us since we switched. She's been hovering since we were in the atrium on the boarding deck." Looking completely unbothered, he scooped up another spoonful of soup. Something made him look up though, and at the expression on my face, he confidently declared, "She's not a threat."

While his finding itself didn't necessarily surprise me, considering it would have to be the worst sort of assassin who stood out so plainly with their hair and made no sly effort to hide themselves, I was still a little hesitant with the ease with which he'd reached this verdict. "How can you be so sure?"

Ani shrugged. "I've read her Force signature multiple times. It's always the same. She's…" Pausing, he lowered his spoon. He frowned in concentration, as if re-reading whatever mystical report he'd received from her 'Force signature'. "She's in pain."

"She is? Physically or emotionally?"

"Emotionally, I think. But you'd be surprised at how hard it is to decipher one from the other sometimes. The worst kind of emotional pains read a lot like a severe physical wound."

Although my confusion hadn't abated, concern for this woman replaced my apprehension. "And you've sensed this in her?"

He nodded, going back to his food. "I don't know why. But something about me keeps drawing her back."

This threw me even more than his previous comments. "Something about you?"

He grinned and looked up at me from his bowl. "Surprised?" However, he then shrugged again and admitted, "No, honestly, I was too. I've been on the lookout for anyone who's recognized you, for obvious reasons, but her attention seems to be mostly on me."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't say she's not a threat if I didn't truly believe she isn't."

"And the Force tells you she's not?"

"She's not."

I was even more confused than when I'd brought this topic up, but I didn't pry any further. Ani didn't seem troubled about the purple haired woman, regardless of her strange behavior. One might think he was almost too casual about it. Even though it didn't explain this stranger's emotional state, I suddenly bristled at the idea of random women fixating their attentions on Anakin. Was that how he navigated his Jedi duties beyond the Temple? Politely steering enraptured women away as he went on saving the galaxy one assignment at a time?

Did he steer them away? I knew the Jedi had rules about love and relationships, but they weren't celibate.

I grew quiet as I wrestled with this unexpected train of thought and my resulting uncomfortable feelings. With sudden gusto, Ani rushed through the last of his bowl. He was already pushing back from the table as he announced, "I'm going to go for a walk around the deck. I'll check out the floors above and below us too."

"What for?"

He looked at me like the answer was obvious. "To do a security sweep of the perimeter, of course."

"Of the perimeter?" I leaned back on my box. "Ani, we're on a refugee freighter. Nothing's going to happen to us here." Without thinking better of it, I shook my head, laughed, and— dismissively— said, "You're getting too caught up your first solo assignment at playing protector."

I didn't realize how deeply I'd wounded him until I looked up from my bowl and saw the look on his face. I immediately regretted my lax demeanor and the hypocrisy of my terrible words. Mere moments ago, I was the one concerned about a purple haired woman whose body weight was even less than mine. What's more, he was only trying to take my safety seriously. What more could anyone enduring assassination attempts hope for in a defender?

Instead of pointing these two very obvious facts out to me, as he had the right to do, Ani only bit his lip and turned away. Somehow, this was so much worse.

"Ani, I—" I searched for the best words to rectify my blunder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"I'll be back in a bit." He still hadn't looked at me when he picked up his bowl and strode away. I watched from afar as he deposited it in the used dishes receptacle. Then Ani disappeared behind a dividing wall and was lost to my sight.

I couldn't believe my own carelessness. Although ashamed to admit it, I knew I'd said things the past two days to belittle him in an attempt to reaffirm appropriate distance between us. I'd even performed such an exercise in the first seconds of our reunion. With those instances, at least, I could hide behind an excuse, however weak it was. But calling his guardianship— a role he'd made clear multiple times he took very seriously, a duty he'd already risked his life pursuing an attacker for— playing protector… I had no such defense. My words were beyond unnecessary; they verged on being cruel.

I leaned forward on the table and rubbed my forehead with my left hand. Closing my eyes, I lightly massaged my temple. Half my bowl was still filled with soup, but I'd lost my appetite. I didn't need to look at a clock to know we hadn't even spent an hour on the freighter yet.

Weariness wore on me more heavily than my most cumbersome gown. This was all a terrible start to our time together. I couldn't help but question how much of it was my fault. So what if Ani carried a crush from his boyhood days? He'd been studying to be a Jedi for the past ten years— no crush would dig very far into his heart. Without a doubt, he'd had extensive training in that area. Not that the guidance of his Jedi mentors would be required here; a few more hours around me and my artless comments, and I'd surely undo the very last of his of affections in short order. I reiterated to myself again— he must consciously know, on some level, that his sentiments weren't going to go anywhere. He was a Jedi. It was all a passing fancy— a tenderness from a decade ago sweeter in its memory than its actuality. More likely than not, it was actively disintegrating with every step he took around the Jendirian Valley while my words rang in his head.

The blame rested on my shoulders, then. It was my unease at his stares and remarks which led to the belittling. It was my own body that responded so unexpectedly to him, and my own inability to handle such reactions with the grace befitting a woman of my age and position. I was the infallible Amidala. Stoic. Unfailing. Composed. And here I was, taking out my discomfort out on a poor teenager who'd only ever treated me adoringly.

I heaved one last sigh and opened my tired eyes. When I did, they immediately made contact with a pair of brown ones staring back at me, framed in a thin face surrounded by short, purple hair.

The young woman I'd seen pass by so many times, who Ani had deemed to be harmless, was not only paused in her step this time— she'd ventured into our tiny court of space. She stood a few feet behind the crate where Ani sat before my callous words made him flee my presence.

Despite my curiosity, I didn't have the patience at the moment for pleasantries. "Sit down, please," I directed at her, with all the authority of a former monarch. At best, she'd comply. At worst, she'd scurry off again, and I'd be left to my doleful musings in peace once more.

Timidly, though, she approached the table. She slowly took Ani's former seat, smiling awkwardly as it became clear her legs didn't match the length of his. The purple haired woman scooted the box forward so as to make her distance from the table's edge less apparent.

I didn't wish to keep referring to her, even if only in my head, as the woman with purple hair, so when she finished her adjustment I asked, "What's your name?"

Her smile, never wide to begin with, was already gone. "Sasha."

I almost blurted out my own name but caught myself just in time. "I'm Ramé." My tiredness overruled any desire to drag this out. "Why have you been watching us?"

Sasha peered back at me for a long moment before, inexplicably, her eyes swelled with thick tears. Her mouth parted as she let out a single gasp, but otherwise she remained composed as the ship's artificial gravity tugged twin streams down her cheeks.

I didn't even know this woman, but there was no air to her that led me to believe Ani was wrong in his assessment of her being a threat. Whatever was troubling her, it was severe, and I resisted the urge to extend an open palm across the table towards her. I wasn't sure how she'd respond to the act. "I'm sorry," she finally said, her throat constricted. "I know I must seem like a lunatic staring you and—" she paused, somehow looking even more pained. I wasn't sure which answer would make her more upset as she questioned, "Is he your husband?"

She wasn't a threat, but I couldn't trust her enough to tell the truth. "He is."

The tears flew down her face with greater magnitude, and she lifted shaking hands to wipe them away. Her cheeks, two emptied pillows, were left red after her aggressive strokes. "That's what I was afraid of."

I couldn't fathom what, but I asked, "Has he done something to offend you?"

"No! No, and again, I'm so sorry, it's just…" Sasha took a deep breath and closed her eyes, seemingly committing to stabilizing herself. After a beat, she reopened them with more calm than before. "Your husband looks so much like my fiancé."

Now I truly had to resist the urge to reach over the table and take her hand. I'd sat across from enough persons with tragic stories to know the beginnings of one. Being myself a recently rejoined member of the mournful, I could commiserate all too well. "You don't need to elaborate if you do not wish to, but I will listen if you'd like to go further."

The woman opposite me took another steadying breath, then began, "We were fleeing our homeworld—Vantrilla. The Separatists came. There was resistance. Dinn wanted to fight." Her voice broke. I'd already extended my hand across the table by the time she mentioned Vantrilla. I'd read the recently released, horrific reports after the Separatist takeover of the pacifist planet. Sasha took my hand gratefully and pushed on. "I begged him not to. We were only one lunar cycle away from our commitment ceremony. He agreed to get out on the next ship. But… his name was already known in the resistance circles, and one of the fighters was captured. She was pressured to give up names. It must've been an honest mistake— the fighter must not have known he was trying to leave and hadn't really done anything monumental yet for the cause. But the Separatists stopped us before we made it to the ship. When they tried to arrest him…"

She didn't continue, and I didn't press her to. Her fiancé's fate was obvious from her state of grief.

Sasha wiped more tears away, then looked up at me with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry. It's just, when I saw your husband— they may as well have been twins. The eyes, the build, the hair," she shook her head, "well, except for the ponytail and the braid. But even the smile! They look— they looked— so much alike. It was like seeing a ghost." Tentatively, she finished, "It was like having him back for just a moment."

"I understand," I assured, though really, how could I? Reading reports and even holding this woman's hand as I listened to her ruptured life paled in comparison to actually living it. And I'd never come close to having or loving a partner the way she obviously did her fiancé. "I'm sure he'd be very grateful that you made your way to safety."

"How long have you been married?"

I didn't know the dates the gate keeper saw on our documentation. Not that she'd likely ever see them, but I decided to stick with the current story. In any case, I was mindful of the youthfulness of my groom. Softly, I simply replied, "Not long."

"Newlyweds," Sasha said through a smile and yet another wave of tears. "Like we were supposed to be by now." She gave my hand a squeeze, then retrieved her own to brush her crimson cheeks anew. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. Both of you. I won't trespass by again."

I tilted my head and smiled at her with friendliness. "You aren't trespassing, Sasha." I pointedly looked in the direction of the buffet line. "Besides, we're in a rather unavoidable area. It's a long flight. You don't need to go to the trouble of avoiding us."

She nodded but came to a stand with an air of decision. "No. Thank you, but I think it's best for everyone if I keep my distance. As you said," the broadest, most genuine smile yet graced her features. It broke my heart even more— she had a lovely smile, and it retreated all too quickly. Yet, for a moment, I saw a hint of the radiant woman Dinn had loved. "It's a long flight. I wouldn't want your husband calling floor security on me."

I felt it best not to mention my 'husband' was probably the highest level of security on the entire ship— or, at least, the only kind of guard carrying a lightsaber and communed with a mystical voice in their head.

"Take care, Sasha. Please do feel free to stop by, even if you just want someone to talk to."

"Thank you," She gave me one last smile. It brought comfort to see she at least looked better, more centered, than she had when she first sat down. "Enjoy your flight." As she turned to go, she stopped suddenly after her first step. She looked back at me with a somber, heavy stare. "Don't take any time with him for granted."

"I'm sorry?"

"I saw the crates separating your beds before. I saw the way he walked off, and the way you looked when he did. I know I have no right or business to tell you how to be in your marriage, but…" She gazed at me so seriously I dared not breathe. "Just don't take any time with him for granted."

"I won't," I vowed. It was an easy oath to make. I'd already been steering myself in such a way while coming to grips with my behavior with Ani. If our current state was my fault, I would take up the duty of fixing it.

The conviction in my answer seemed to satisfy her, and Sasha left without another word.

In the silence of her absence, my earlier hesitations returned. My conviction alarmed them. A warning voice in the back of my mind, one wholly different from the dangerous vixen who responded to Anakin's presence with something akin to famine, recalled the way he'd looked at me in my bedroom with the clarity of hindsight. It darkly cautioned me not to enter into a game I was not prepared enough to play. There were rules here I did not yet even know, much less could fathom how to master.

Foolishly, I pushed that voice aside.

"Is everyone on board?"

I stood over the cockpit dashboard, sharing looks with my pilot, Commander Ric Olié. He was personal pilot to the Queen, Commander of the Naboo Royal Space Fighter Corps, and the leader of our Bravo Squadron. Right now, though, I just needed him to be the man who'd successfully picked up Qui-Gon Jinn in the midst of his battle with the black-garbed, saber-wielding duelist.

When a response didn't come, I aggressively pushed the comm button again, which would broadcast my voice to the loading bay where the ramp extended from. "Is anyone down there? Is everyone alright?" I'd only been on the throne a few months, but the expectation of being answered promptly coupled with my natural concern, and the impatience was clear in my much louder second attempt.

"Yes, handmaiden, we are all accounted for." The wry voice of Qui-Gon Jinn came through the cockpit speaker. This could only mean he was standing there himself, pressing the comm button on the wall in the bay. I smiled, ignoring the mild irritation in his cadence. "We were just making introductions."

I looked around me. A short, blond boy— who could claim the title of Tatooine's most recent champion of the Boonta Eve Classic— was now noticeably absent. Ani must've rushed out alongside Qui-Gon's apprentice, who's name I couldn't currently remember, once we'd accelerated.

"We're all glad you made it aboard, Master Jedi."

"I'm glad the pilot knew how to handle the ship timely. Please, give him my thanks."

Smiling again, I looked over at Commander Olié. He only gave quick nod. He was a soldier through and through— always looking to achieve, but never for praise.

Tatooine became a sunburnt globe behind us as we escalated further into its atmosphere. Truthfully, I was thankful to leave it behind, and not just because of the life or death matters that lay ahead of us at our next destination. But as the pilot began to enter the coordinates to the capital planet, I put a staying hand on the back of his swivel chair. "Wait."

Ric turned to me with a mixed look of surprise and disapproval. "Wait?"

"There's something we should do before we enter hyperspace."

"Yes, there was something we had to do. We did it."

I forgave the man for his tone. He didn't realize he was speaking with his Queen, and after all our delay, his reaction was completely warranted.

But I had a feeling a certain someone would like to witness this moment.

"I speak with the authority of the Queen," I replied, dipping just enough into my rehearsed Amidala voice to make the authority as convincing as possible. "And I'm requesting that you wait while I retrieve the boy we owe our hyperdrive and this flight to."

Ric balked at this reasoning, but I could see his internal debate over whether he had the grounds to argue with me. Handmaidens like mine were a new concept with my reign— the precedents were, in many ways, still being established. I myself wasn't even sure I'd had the conversation with my five dedicated bodyguards to give them my blessing to declare such a statement, so I know Commander Olié had no bearing on whether or not what I said was true.

"You've got a minute or two anyways," he finally muttered, reluctantly. "Hyperspace travel isn't something to mess around with, so I've got to make sure our lanes are clear before I push that lever." He eyed me sternly. "Hurry."

Before he might say anything else, I hurried towards the cockpit door. It dutifully sprung open for me despite my speed. I quickly made my way to the loading bay, sensing a trail of sand being left behind in my wake. The walk from Mos Espa had been long, our stay there much longer, and I imagined I could wear my gray and blue outfit for weeks and still be dropping particles. Thank goodness the Trade Federation wasn't hunting me by sand trails, or I'd be discovered with comical velocity.

Qui-Gon, his apprentice, and Ani were about to walk through the hangar bay doors when I came upon them. The Jedi Master looked no more the worse for wear, and at this I gave another relieved smile. It had snuck up on me, but as much as I didn't initially care for Qui-Gon since joining him in Mos Espa, I'd warmed to him in the interval since. Maybe, it was just from lack of company and the now familiarity of his. But certainly, I did not want him to die, especially when we'd finally achieved our goal and were about to depart from Tatooine. His efforts, as much as I'd chagrined at them, had gotten us here arguably as much as Ani's had.

"As I said, young Padmé, I'm alright. You need not come to check on me in person." Despite his tone, the towering figure bestowed me with a smile and kind, twinkling eyes. I would always remember those kind eyes. "But! I suppose it's always nice to feel appreciated."

I grinned more brightly at him, though now somewhat apologetically. I wasn't here for him. "I'm very glad to see you're alright. Any idea who or what that was down there?"

Qui-Gon crossed his arms in front of his lower torso, one hand grabbing a wrist. "No, I cannot say that I do. Perhaps, it was a disgruntled gambler upset that Anakin took his winnings from him."

"A gambler with a lightsaber?"

Qui-Gon paused. I was more observant than he'd counted on. "As I said, I cannot say who it was."

Can't or won't. Either way, I knew a closed-off stance when I saw one. Whatever his suspicions were, he was burying them into his Jedi robe as securely as he tucked his weapon behind it. I could no sooner reach for an answer any more than I could take his lightsaber from him.

I carried on with why I'd traveled to meet them. Commander Ric Olié wasn't going to wait forever, especially not with a single handmaiden's order keeping his hand off the controls. My gaze fell to the sandy boy already watching me as I announced, "I'm here to collect Ani. There's something I think he'd like to see."

Qui-Gon Jinn was a very astute man. I think, given the still static state of the ship, he gathered what I was up to with characteristic speed of understanding.

Ani, for his part, looked up at me with wide eyes, not comprehending. "Me?"

I nodded. Excitement crept into my voice as I asked, "Have you ever gone into hyperspace before?"

"No. Well, kinda. Remember when I said," he looked shyly in the direction of the apprentice before continuing on, "that my mom and I were sold to Gardula the Hutt when I was three?"

If Qui-Gon's pupil had any reaction to learning Ani was a slave, he made no outward notion of it. Perhaps the Master had already updated him on such details about their new charge.

"I do remember."

"Well, we were taken to Tatooine on a freighter. It was dark. There was only one bathroom." He looked down at the floor. "So my mom says. I don't really remember it."

I stepped forward and bent over to be eye-level with him, balancing my weight with my hands on my knees. "What do you say to us remedying that experience today?"

Ani looked up at me with eyes as blue as the streaks he was about to see in the galaxy's sky.

I stood straight and offered my hand, and without hesitation he took it in his warm one.

With a quick look at Qui-Gon, who gave me an amused smile, we turned to go. On a hunch, I turned over my shoulder one last time before the vertical door shut behind Ani and I. Qui-Gon and his apprentice's faces had turned grave in the two seconds since I'd stolen the boy from them. No doubt, they were about to have a conversation about the attacker which they were free to do, due to my unknowingly aiding them with Ani's removal.

As we trekked towards the cockpit, I started to loosen my grip on Ani's hand, not seeing a practical need to keep holding it anymore. In return, his grip only tightened. I didn't try to let go again.

Commander Olié greeted us with a huff as we came through the cockpit doors, but at Ani's reverent exclamations about "a real starship cockpit!", his lips actually curved up into a smile. I held no misgivings towards the man— not only was he doing his job, but I could completely understand the pull to reach to Coruscant as quickly as possible. It wasn't that far of an understatement to say Naboo and her people hung in the balance. Even I was surprised I'd paused our departure for even a moment.

But my already broad smile only grew wider as I took in Ani's face. He was staring out into the blackness of Tatooine's outer atmosphere. I'd been so preoccupied with wanting to show him the light of hyperspace, I'd forgotten he might just be enthralled with the preliminaries, which were as foreign or absent to his memory as what was to come. Without preamble, he suddenly tugged me along with him to the corner of the nearest window, where he looked down at the planet he'd toiled on for most of his life. The planet his mother still involuntarily called home. As if his thoughts were of her, a timid hand reached up to reverently mold itself against the glass in the direction of Tatooine's revolving surface below. Knowing that no words would quite suffice, I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. This was their last goodbye until only greater powers knew when. After a moment, he looked up at me; his eyes clear and brave.

I turned to the pilot, finally as ready as he was. "At your pleasure, Commander."

"Actually," Olié said with a mischievous grin. "I was thinking I could use a co-pilot's assistance on this one."

Olié and I both peeked at the young man in the seat to his right, who subsequently slowly turned with arched eyebrows. He seemed to be as surprised as I was. Pushing a hyperspace handle, while being a maneuver which required more than a child's arm strength, was not a two-person operation. But Olié gave him a subtle wink and shake of his head. His eyes fell upon the boy at my side. "What's your name?"

"Anakin Skywalker."

"Well, Anakin Skywalker. Would you like to send this ship into hyperspace?"

Ani's expression mirrored the explosive look on his face after he'd won the Boonta Eve race. I think he would have pumped his arms up and down in the same fashion if one of them wasn't still holding on to mine.

"Really?"

"Really." The Commander pointed next to the spot on the floor next to his chair, just in front of the hyperspace lever. "It's my understanding we owe our new hyperdrive and our thanks to you. Seems only right."

Cheeky modesty coming through, Ani let go of my hand and swaggered his way forward. "Nah, I just won a podrace is all."

Olié's eyes flashed up to meet mine. Even though podracing was illegal on Naboo, the sport was widely known across the galaxy. And after watching it live, I now fully believed Ani from when he said he was the only human who'd ever successfully done it. I nudged the Commander to continue on. "I'll fill you in on the story later."

I didn't have to see Ani's face to know he was smiling that signature confident grin. "It's a good story."

After a quick rundown of instruction— which amounts to basically pressing forward on the one lever, though, to Olié's credit, he made it sound more dramatic and thorough than it actually is— Ani placed his grip on the silver handle. Any other nine-year old's hand would've surely shaken, whether with nerves or excitement, but Ani had the cool being of a natural-born pilot. If anything, it was spellbinding to watch a child become so still and relaxed by the mere touch of an aircraft's controls. Whether in his self-built podracer, or in a Nubian yacht he'd never stepped foot in before, Anakin Skywalker was suddenly home.

"Ready?" Olié asked.

Ani paused to throw a poignant, grateful smile my way. It touched my heart that he already wanted to show so much appreciation when the best was yet to come.

He spun around towards the front again, his voice focused. "Ready." Olié put an adult's hand with an adult's strength alongside Ani's hand on the bar.

"3… 2… 1, and…" Their combined hands pushed the handle seamlessly. Ani let out a whoop of delight as the ship seemingly lurched forward, though thanks to the grace of the shipbuilders, it felt to us like no more than a slight vibration. And yet, to all eyes looking outside the cockpit, blueish-white streams stretched into literal beams of light on all sides, as if the universe itself was bending to our will. We were off.

Putting Ani's enjoyment to the side temporarily, I closed my eyes and released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Finally. After being stranded on Tatooine, each day of lost time digging into my wary heart and racking my already fractured nerves, we were on our way to Coruscant. Help was, almost literally, on the horizon.

"Padmé, look!" Ani was excitedly moving around the front of the cockpit, barely mindful to stay out of the pilot and the unofficial, official co-pilot's ways. He must have figured I'd seen this hyperspace scene before, but I understood his unspoken desire. He wanted to share this experience with me, not have me stand in the back and keep my eyes closed, private to my own thoughts.

"Isn't it wonderful?" I beamed at him, giving myself to the moment and letting his waves of innocent joy wash over me. At fourteen, I was already blasé about the visuals of hyperspace. Plenty of humanitarian trips off-world with my parents and the similar ventures with the Legislative Youth Program had seen to that before I'd even become Queen. But at Ani's jubilance, I remembered my earliest memory of the sight. I felt my own appreciation return as the teenage apathy dissipated. There really was nothing quite like it.

His voice was full of awe. "If I could fly a podracer through this, I'd never land on the surface of a planet again." He turned and grinned at me. "Don't worry, I know that's not possible." The 'yet' in his tone was unmistakable. Already, I could see the wheels turning in his head on how to make the impossible possible. If anyone could make a podracer fly in space, I easily believed it would be him.

Ani and I lost track of time gazing out at the streaks beyond the thick glass. Just when I thought he'd seen enough, he would return to his state of entranced gaping. His enthusiasm, which reignited mine for years to come on even the most rudimentary of trips, was a cherished memory I held onto long after he and I parted after the invasion. Right up to my Senatorial term— on more journeys than not— whenever I found myself in the cockpit, I would think of little Ani and the mesmerized way he'd appreciated the stars. Perhaps it was a feeble dream, as all things are more magical when one is a child, but I always he'd hoped he never lost that joyful bewilderment.

The only somber moment arrived when he suddenly became very still, and he whispered that he wished his mother could see this, too.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed when Anakin returned from his security tour. I came to a graceful stand as he entered the space. His eyes were still avoiding mine, and his jawline hinted at unabated strain. "Everything satisfactory?"

My voice was too high. Ani eyed me hesitantly. "Yes," he muttered, with no elaboration. His walls were still up. I'd offended him just as deeply as I feared.

I've never been known for my grand comedy, so I should've known better than to try to make a joke. "No hidden assassins lurking behind any crates?"

Ani shot me a reproving stare. He hadn't looked at me like that since he'd accused me of being surprised that I was an important assignment to him. "Don't mock me, Padmé."

"I'm not," I carefully replied. Anakin was watching me like a skittish creature, different emotions flying across his face faster than I could keep up to read them. I quickly decided to abandon the tactic of words and reverted straight to the idea I'd formed since Sasha left. "While you were walking, did you happen to see any signs for an observation deck?"

I would bet my wardrobe I'd seen such directional signs while we were boarding, but I still held my breath until he quietly answered, "Yes." A tight pause. "It's five floors above us." He frowned at me, confused. "I didn't look for threats up there. Should I have?"

I couldn't tell if his question was meant in sincerity or not.

"I'm asking because… Would you like to go up to the observation deck with me?" I forced myself to relax— I hadn't realized until that moment how taut my stance was. It was easier to smile encouragingly at him when I wasn't stockpiling tension in my body. "I'd like your company, Anakin."

He scoffed, but there was a flash of hope on his face which he failed to hide. "Because you need protection up there?"

"No." My voice was soft. It was imperative to me to make amends, and not for the sake of the flight and not for our stay, however long or short it would be, on Naboo. "Because even if I knew every being on this ship, yours would still be the company I would want."

The warning voice in my head railed against my inflammatory words. It cautioned that was playing with a fire I didn't not have any inclination as to the heat of.

As would become a habit over the coming days, and years, I again ignored it.

In any case, Anakin was finally looking at me squarely now, a curve of his full lips tugging them slightly upward. I hadn't reestablished our rapport just yet, but with a great deal of relief, I realized I'd chosen the right recourse.

He raised an arm in the direction of the nearest elevator. "After you, milady."