When Obi-Wan had returned, he had been told by the med droid that his companion was still asleep, which left him sitting alone in the antechamber once more with only his thoughts for company. He briefly considered returning to the ship, as Artoo would at least be some company, but that would mean eventually coming back inside, i.e. leaving Artoo with the ship for a third time, which was not to be done. So, he settled himself on the floor and tried again to meditate. The Force was still wracked by death, but now he was able to find an oasis of life in the signature of Luke and Leia, and while focusing on it wasn't easy, at least he now had an anchor in the storm. After living through what felt like a century of horrors and chaos, there was unspeakable relief in even the briefest moment of something approaching peace.

Padmé didn't want to wake up, didn't want to throw back the heavy, numbing folds of slumber that wrapped around her, safe and warm, shielding her from… her fuzzy mind couldn't say exactly what, but there was certainly something unpleasant beyond the blanket of sleep. Someone else evidently had other ideas, however, for her dreams were suddenly invaded by a sharp and plaintive wailing, which was almost immediately joined by a second, less sharp, but just as demanding, and both growing louder. Crying—babies— her eyes snapped open, and she lurched toward the sound—ouch—as streaks of blue flashed through her mind. But no, this was a room, there was no ash, no glowing rivers, no danger, only a pair of very demanding infants. Already taking after— She shuddered, fingers going to her throat as the door opened and the med droid entered, carrying Luke and Leia, who were apparently ravenous.

For the next several minutes, the twins absorbed her attention completely. Feeding Luke was not terribly difficult, but Leia… Leia had, it seemed, already decided how the process ought to work, and was not easily convinced that her methods were less than ideal. Eventually, however, both infants were fed, and Padmé held them both once more, kissing first one and then the other.

She had known for months, now, that this would eventually happen—but still, it was strange to actually see and hear and hold their children in her arms. To look at Leia and see how she already favored the Naberrie line, petite, with wisps of dark brown hair. To see Luke looking up at her with Ani's eyes. Their children.

But there was no them anymore; there was only her, and the ghosts of all that had been, all that she had hoped would be. There was only her, one small ex-Senator in the shadow of a rising empire, and how very small she felt, as insignificant as a single blaster bolt against a lightsaber, so very useless that she might as well give in, give up, lay down her arms and her beliefs and bow to the risen giant. And what—live a life of subjugation? Hypocrite! Accept the tyrant you mistakenly aided in his bloody path to a throne? No. A thousand times, no!

A spark flared within her, lending a momentary energy to her tired psyche as she rested her cheek lightly against Luke's head, then against Leia's, whispering under her breath, "I won't give in! I'll not give up until one of us is in the ground."

And it damned well better be Palpatine, because I will see my children in a free galaxy. For their sake—for the sake of what their father had been, for their grandmother whom they had never met, for the sake of every single sentient being in the galaxy, she would see this through. She had no idea how, and her brain resisted the idea of actually doing anything useful at the moment, but… somehow, she would see it through. Somehow.

There was a knock at the door, which slid open a moment later to admit Obi-Wan, who inquired as before as to how she was.

"Much better after a good rest," she replied. "I told you there was nothing to worry about."

He grimaced. "That's… not exactly true. It seems Sidious was draining your life by means of the Force." As her eyes widened in alarm, he added, "You needn't worry. The bond has been severed, and he has hopefully been persuaded, at least for the time being, of your demise."

"Why would he use the Force to kill me? There are more conventional ways of eliminating rivals, ones which would leave a clear cause of death and arouse less suspicion."

"We can only speculate. It is possible that he wished to increase his own vitality, in which case sapping the energy of an outspoken opponent would have an excellent irony and theatrical flair."

She muttered something under her breath; it sounded like the Huttese equivalent of Pompous bastard, which managed to coax the briefest of smiles from Obi-Wan, before the sadness returned to his countenance. He seemed at a loss for something to say or do, so Padmé nodded toward her daughter, who was becoming a trifle restless. "I think Leia wants to be up and about. Would you mind holding her for a bit?"

"Of course not."

He took the infant, who squirmed and scowled in indignation at being displaced, but as he began to wander around the room, she settled down once more.

Padmé didn't want to interrupt the frail peace of their slow meander, but what Obi-Wan had said about Palpatine troubled her. She gave the Jedi a moment more, and then broached the subject.

"The bond that Palpatine was using to kill me—you said he might realise that its breaking was not because of my death."

"Unfortunately so. I spoke with Master Yoda; he was our last hope against Sidious, but after confronting him was forced to retreat. We need to move on as soon as you are able. Although I believe it likely that he has been fooled, Palpatine is immensely powerful and may have noticed the cutting of that bond in spite of my efforts. You have family on Naboo?"

"Yes, but even if they are all opposed to the Chancellor—the emperor—which cannot be guaranteed, I can't go there. I'm going find a way to fight this, Obi-Wan, and I can't drag my family into it. What about Alderaan? Bail Organa was one of my closest colleagues, and he and Breha will likely seek to thwart Palpatine."

"Alderaan is too close to Coruscant. If I were to become unable to shield Luke and Leia, their presence would quickly come to Palpatine's attention."

"If you were—are you coming with us, then?"

"If you will permit, it would be wisest for their safety," gesturing toward the twins.

And for your own, and mine, she thought. No one should be alone after what we have experienced. All she said, however, was, "Of course, and I would welcome the company of a friend, as well. Now—if Alderaan is too close, what about Chandrila?"

"Chandrila?"

"Mon Mothma's homeworld. She is another colleague, though less close than Bail, whose views align with ours." It would be easier to involve herself in a resistance movement if she had proximity to her allies. Then another thought struck her. "No, that's no good… the world of one of my allies will be Palpatine's first thought, if he discovers that we are alive."

"We could stay for a time on a Separatist world. It should take at least a few weeks, if not months or years, for the Separatist worlds to be absorbed into the empire, given that the empire is rising from the Republic, and Palpatine no longer has Dooku in the CIS to carry out his orders."

"You think the Negotiator could hide on a Separatist world?"

"I have successfully carried out undercover work in the past."

Which remark earned him a cold look. "I know; that is an argument for another time. But it wouldn't work, anyway—the two of us, together, would be too recognizable in the CIS."

Padmé lifted her free hand to play absently with the cord that had hung around her neck day and night for the past three years. There was a part of her that wanted to tear off it off and fling it away, crush the bit of wood beneath her heel until it snapped into pieces, broken like her faith. I always believed you could do better, be better! Why, why couldn't you, didn't you? At the same time, there also was a part of her that wanted to cling to the pendant as though it were her only raft in a wild sea, a transient hope which must fail her in the end, but which allowed her to pretend, for the interim, that there was a way out of this. I still believe you're capable of good.

"What is that?"

"Japor snippet. It's a tradition from…" instinctively, she tried to think of a plausible lie—but there was no need, not anymore. "From Tatooine." She let the cord fall. "Tatooine… even if Palpatine were to find out that we survived, he knows how—how Anakin hated the place. He would never expect that I would raise our children there. He—Anakin—had family there, or stepfamily, at least; the man who freed his mother, and his son. Lars, I think they were. They might be willing to help us, for the sake of Shmi's grandchildren, at least for a couple of days."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in his usual contemplative attitude. "It could work, if you're willing to live on a Hutt-controlled planet notorious for harboring smugglers, bounty hunters, and worse. But—I know it's where you met… are you sure you want to put yourself in that position?"

Padmé smiled tightly. "I'd rather take my chances against smugglers and bounty hunters than the Sith. As for the rest—I'll survive. Will you?"

"It appears to be my foremost skill."

She wasn't sure whether to be more relieved that Obi-Wan's wry humor was returning or concerned at its grim undertone.