Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated elements belong to Lucasfilm, Ltd, and I'm Your What?intends no infringement on that copyright.

"I'm Your What?"

(A What-If)
Part Two

by
FernWithy/JediGaladriel, Moriah Organa of Alderaan,
Mr. P, SithAbigail,
and Vee
(iyw@strangepursuit.net)

Leia noticed that her mother was gone an hour after she came back from Watto's shop.

She'd cleaned up, meaning to go and talk to her, but she'd gotten distracted talking to Obi-Wan. Truth was, she was nervous, frightened of tipping her hand, and she didn't know why. She'd finally screwed up her courage, and gone to her mother's room to tell her everything...

Only to find the room empty.

She'd slipped away.

"Luke!"

She ran out onto the balcony where Luke and his father were speaking quietly. "Luke, hurry, she's gone!"

"Who's gone?" the younger/older Skywalker asked.

"My m-- Padmé!" She heard tears in the back of her voice. It wasn't fair. Why hadn't she said anything?

"What is it?" someone said behind her. Qui-Gon Jinn entered, straightening his poncho. Obi-Wan was a few steps behind, looking concerned.

Anakin Skywalker's eyes were wide and terrified, and Leia realized that he thought of her mother as

(an angel)

something special and fragile... that he loved her, simply and unconditionally.

How strange, a calm, distant part of her whispered. How strange that Luke's father cares so much for my mother, but neither of us ever knew it.

There was not time to ponder it.

"Please, we have to find her."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, immediately."

Luke put a hand on her arm. "Leia, are you all right? Why are you so -- ?"

Leia shook her head. "I told you I was adopted. She's my mother. We have to find

her. Please."

Luke's face went blank with shock, then suddenly he kissed her forehead. "We'll find her," he said. "Then I think we need to talk."

Anakin Skywalker was staring at her, mouth open. Then, abruptly, he ran for the door. Whatever shock it had been passed, and instead of saying he was going to go, he just did it.

The others followed.

As they reached the door of the lodging place, they stopped suddenly.

In a semi-circle in the dusty street were at least twenty stormtroopers, blasters drawn. Standing -- or rather, hovering -- beside the only officer, was Watto. "You see?" he said, holding out his hand for a reward. "I told you they were here."

------------------

Lando woke up to the sound of yelling, in the middle of the night. Rubbing his eyes, he overheard bits and pieces of a heated conversation.

"He's.... Chewie! We have to."

"Young one... You must not..."

"No! I have...."

Then he heard a crash and Lando rushed out of bed, almost glad that he had fallen asleep in his clothes. He took off for the cockpit, pulling on his boots as he ran, a skill he had learned from being an Administrator on Bespin. Seconds later, he found an unconscious Han and an irritated Chewie. Lando put up his hands, backing away ever-so-slightly from the angry Wookie. "Chewie... Want to explain?"

"Han wanted to go after Leia. He actually tried to push me so he could leave. The boy has a death wish, I think. Is there some self-help group for that? I could sign Luke and Leia up as well."

"Actually, there is one. I looked it up for Luke once and..." Lando trailed off when he saw the stare Chewie was giving him.

"Anyway, Chewie, why is Han unconscious?" Lando smiled nervously, hoping Chewie wouldn't take offense.

"He fell wrong." Chewie's eyes bored in Lando and he gulped silently.

"Okay, how did he fall?" Lando forced himself to take in a deep breath and not let himself be intimidated by the tame Wookie.

"I hit him." Never mind. There's definitely no such thing a tame Wookie.

"So... Why?" Lando was getting a little confused, he almost thought that was Chewie's point. But the Wookie wouldn't be that devious, right?

"He was about to go after Leia." Chewie spoke with all seriousness, sending out no signals that he was trying to be funny.

"Now why does he want to go after Leia?" Lando was getting a little frustrated but he knew better then to show it. All showing frustration did what get others angrier then they already were. Not that smart a thing to do with a Wookie.

"Darth Vader is on planet. Han is afraid for Leia. I told him if Darth Vader saw him gallivanting around, not only would he be captured, so would Leia, Luke, the Queen, you and the Jedi Knights. He would not listen."

"So you knocked him out. Great. Chewie, didn't your Mother ever tell you violence only helps?" Lando realized what he had said and cursed his sleep fogged brain. "HURTS! I didn't mean help! Violence doesn't help!"

Chewie was growling softly at this point, his version of a chuckle. "I know... I just don't know what to do with him. I couldn't let him go out and get himself killed."

With that Chewie lifted Han onto his shoulder, intending to carry him to the bunks. Lando called after him, thinking out loud. "Should I call the Queen's transport? They deserve to know about Darth Vader so they don't go venturing out.""

Chewie nodded a yes and Lando turned to the comm. After a minute of trying to get though, he came to a realization. "Communications are being blocked!" He knew what this meant, big trouble.

Lando stood up and found Chewie was suddenly right behind him. "We need to go find them now, Lando."

Lando couldn't help but wonder 'them who' but he kept his mouth shut, picked up a blaster and followed Chewie outside. "Ya know, Chew, it just figures Han would find a way to get out of a fight like this."

------------------

Sabé peeled the black dress off, guiltily relieved to be free of it. She didn't have time to enjoy the cool air coming through the cotton undergarment, though... she had to put on something more practical. Rabé was rifling through the wardrobe containers, looking for anything that it was remotely possible to move freely in. She finally found the maroon uniforms that were made for military parades, somewhere under a strange gray and white concoction with a stripe on the hood.

There was a battle dress for the queen, as well. Eirtaé held it out, the padded headpiece resting on top of it. Sabé sighed. She should not have broken rank with Jar Jar Binks earlier; it was time to get back to work. She looked wistfully at the more comfortable uniform, then reluctantly took the queen's dress. Though why the queen should need ceremonial battle gear...

Not Sabé's business. She'd already fixed her makeup, and she slipped into the new gown and high boots while Rabé and Eirtaé put on the maroon velvet. It looked a bit fancy for the desert, but easier to maneuver in than the flame dresses. Sabé hit the button beside the door, and Panaka, Olie, and Jar Jar came in. Behind them, the nervous protocol droid from the future was hovering, one hand slightly raised.

"This could be dangerous," Ric Olie said. "You've never been on this planet before, let alone in this time, and there may be things we don't know."

Sabé put on her best regal voice -- there were advantages to being the queen -- and said, "Captain Olie, you have a remarkable penchant for stating the obvious." He gave her a baffled look; she didn't pay attention to it. "Now, we have lost contact with the other ship, the ship from the current time. We have been given good reason to assume that is a prelude to something worse. We will all leave this ship, because it has clearly been identified, and not by friendly agents. If I am to be in danger, I should prefer to be in danger in a vast open desert to being in danger trapped in precisely the place where my enemy expects me to be."

"Her Highness is right," Panaka said, gathering handing out blasters efficiently (and if anything ever should have tipped people off about the identity switch, it was that Panaka often agreed with Sabé on security matters, but had yet to agree with Amidala). "This place is no longer safe, and we can't risk altering the timeline by allowing ourselves to be attacked at this point."

"If it's all the same to you," Eirtaé said, "I don't particularly want to be attacked at any point, and the timeline isn't my first priority."

The party gathered, insisting that the pilots and mechanics rescued in the hangar join them as well. They were about twenty-five strong when they set out across the desert.

Sabé led the way, alongside Panaka. Jar Jar Binks walked beside her clumsily, sometimes tripping over rocks strewn in the sand, but he didn't let himself fall behind. He looked terrified... but he stayed his ground.

Two kilometers from the ship, they saw approaching figures. There was no place to hide such a large group, so Sabé signaled everyone to stand at guard, with blasters at the ready. Panaka stepped in front of her.

A chilling howl broke the night, then shattered into sharp barking. Sabé clutched her blaster tighter, then remembered that one of their new companions was a Wookiee.

"Chewbacca!" the protocol droid said, throwing his hands in the air. "Oh, at last. I seem to have -- "

The man with the Wookiee -- Calrissian, Sabé remembered -- cut the droid off. "We need to get into town. How many of you are there?"

"Twenty five," Panaka said.

"The Empire has sent agents for my friends. And yours, I'd bet. I don't what Luke was thinking letting Kenobi go into town dressed as a Jedi. That's like putting a homing beacon out. People see a Jedi, they know they're going to get money from the Empire for reporting it."

Sabé didn't quite understand it. Certainly, Jedi were not everyday visitors, but there were enough that it shouldnt' cause such a stir. But there was no time to wonder about such niceties. "Very well. We'll come to your aid."

"Great," Calrissian said. "Let's just hope they didn't send a very big landing party."

Sabé smiled, remembering how Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had cleared a hangar of battle droids in less than five mintes. "It shouldn't be a problem," she said, and led the way toward town.

------------------

Luke watched as Obi-Wan held in a smirk and brought his lightsaber out within a second. "I confess to not knowing much about this time but I do know when someone is breaking the law---"

In a flash of an eye, Obi-Wan was down, shot by a Stormtrooper standing on top of a nearby building. A second later, so was Leia and Master Qui-Gon.

NOOO! Not again! Not again! Luke's mind screamed at him to move, to do something. He stood frozen until he saw a 'trooper aim at Father... "No!"

Luke Force-swung the blaster away, but it did no good, someone else just took the 'troopers place and Father was down. Luke raged out, knocking as many troopers down as he could manage before he found himself in handcuffs.

The Imperial Captain laughed cruelly and collected the various Lightsabers. "Don't worry Commander, your friends are not dead. My orders currently stand not to hurt anyone before the Emperor's arrival." The Captain spoke this name reverently, as if he was awed at the very name. "Believe me, you'd be stunned too, if it wasn't the Emperor's wish you stay awake."

Luke twitched and tried to open his handcuffs, with no visible success. The Captain spoke conversationally, grinning. "Force-proof. Nice little bit of technology from the Old Republic to help keep Jedi scum in there place."

The young Jedi kept quiet as he was pushed along the road, trying to block out Watto complaints about not getting his money right away. Walking, he noticed how the Stormtrooper carrying Father was cradling Father in his arms, unlike the others who were all but being dragged by the hair. That's something to remember.

Finally, they reached the outskirts of town and were greeted into the Imperial-class ship. It was large but not excessively so. The Captain's eyes brightened as he looked at Luke and Luke himself questioning the Captain's sanity. "You get to be taken to the holding cells. Have fun!"

You know, there are some days I feel everyone's out to get me. The rest of the time, I know.

------------------

Qui-Gon woke in a small, dingy cell on the hard floor and feeling sore all over. Obi-Wan? Are you alright?

Yes Master. It seems they just put everyone in cells, to be left alone until some Emporer comes. I have been conferring with Luke and he refuses to tell me anything of importance because of the timeline... Maybe you can convince him, Master?Obi-Wan's voice was tinged with worry and a little fear, not for himself but for his Master.

Closing the communication with Obi-Wan gently, the Jedi Master contacted Padawan Skywalker. Luke? Can you tell me more of this situation?

But the timeline, Master...

Qui-Gon got up and stretched, trying to get rid of the soreness that came with being stunned. Young Skywalker, the timeline is shot to Sith anyway. We can just hope we don't remember anything when we go back.

He could almost hear Luke's mental nod, Fine. We've been taken by Imperials. We did say we were wanted. Watto, apparently, knew that and turned us in for cash. Now, the Emporer is coming to interrogate or kill us. Well, whatever makes him happy, right?

Ignoring the sarcasm, Qui-Gon crinkled his nose in thought. Does he think he can really handle a Jedi Master and two Padawans?

Why not? He and Vader killed all the rest. He heard a small mental chuckle. Did I mention they were Siths?

Qui-Gon cut off the communication quickly, he needed to meditate on this. He sat down and let his mind drift with the Force.

A fire filled the Jedi Temple, smoke was everywhere. The creche leaders were panicked, trying to get the babies out with the Initiates helping. All Padawans and Knights were helping to fight the men in white armor while the alive Masters concerned themselves with the Sith Lords.

A young female Master fell, electrocuted leaving the temple with a horrible death scream. The Sith Master laughed, enjoying the power that came from her death and killed another. He killed until all that was left was screaming Padawans and young Initiates, too scared to have left.

Then he and the Sith apprentice exited the scene to enter another, apathetic to the pain of those remaining. The only time they stopped their path of destruction was when the apprentice picked up a small blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy who was about to be killed in the chaos.

The Temple burned and the infants wailed, the Initiates screamed and the Padawans clutched their heads in agony.

Qui-Gon broke out his meditation hours later, sweating and feeling as though he had lived all it. Vowing to tell Obi-Wan not to seek visions in this time, he went right to sleep on the small bunk.

------------------

Amidala had fallen into a fantasy as she walked through the desert -- she often daydreamed as she walked, though few people knew that -- in which she was stranded here on Tatooine, charged with finding a precious artifact which only she could locate, and she had to find it before the Trade Federation got to it. Silly, she knew. She had enough real worries. But the fantasy helped; after watching Ani race yesterday, she was having a lot of fantasies about going out and taking action on the matter. It seemed like a good thing to do, though of course, Naboo had no army, and she simply couldn't run a war -- negotiations and Senate censure were her only hope. But how she wanted to take it into her own hands!

"Hello, Your Highness."

She looked up.

Daydreaming or no, she'd kept her ears open, but she hadn't heard the black-robed man approach. The attacker from before. From her own time. His face was covered with nightmarish tattoos, and horns grew sharply out of his head. He had a lightsaber on his belt, but it was not drawn. At his size, he hardly needed it to intimidate her.

"Who are you?" she demanded, then remembered to add, "You seem to have mistaken me for the queen."

"My identity is not your concern, Your Highness, and we're both aware that I've made no mistake." He reached out a giant hand toward her --

Then a bright red light split the air in front of her, barely missing that hand. The robed man stood back, then drew his saber -- but he wasn't looking at her. He looked up at the nearby mesa.

Amidala became aware of another sound, a soft, horrible sound that she associated with hospitals and dying. The hiss-shush of a respirator. She looked up. Standing above her, dark cape blowing back in the wind, was the Imperial official she had seen earlier, the man with the death's head mask. Lights on his chest went up and down with each breath.

Dear Maker, she realized. It is a respirator. He's wearing one.

She didn't have time to register much more, because he was flying down from the mesa, landing with great force between her and her attacker. "You must leave, Your Highness," he said. "Immediately. This does not concern you."

"It seems to me," she said, "that it concerns me a great deal."

"Amidala," he said, with slow, deliberate patience, "leave now. Follow this road until you come to Sanctuary."

"I don't know Sanctuary, and I don't know you." But the second part felt like a lie.

"You will come to know both. Walk away."

The attacker laughed, a cold, knifelike sound in the dark. "If you have replaced me, my Master's standards have been lowered. If she is in your way, cut her down!"

"I intend to kill neither of you, but you must both return to your own time."

The voice that came into Amidala's mind was loud, intrusive, and commanding. Go to Sanctuary. You must survive. All depends on it.

Before she had a chance to answer -- or even comprehend what had been said -- the Imperial official

(vader but no not vader amidala please GO!!!)

pressed an attack on the man who had tracked her in the desert several hours -- or thirty five years -- ago.

Red sabers crossed, lighting up the desert night. Amidala backed away, not wanting to leave, but needing to avoid those deadly arcs.

She felt a small, warm hand on her own, and looked down.

A little girl, with a scar across her nose, was tugging at her. "Come on, he said to come to Sanctuary. He said." She put the emphasis on "said" in her voice, but in her eyes, the emphasis was on "he." Those dark eyes flickered momentarily to the duel, to Vader, then turned away in terror, then back in fascination. Finally, she shook it off. "Follow me. I'll get you safe."

------------------

Anakin woke up in a soft bed, a blanket wrapped around him. He could smell something delicious cooking nearby. He did not entertain the thought that he might be waking up from a dream. Never in his waking life had he been in such a comfortable place.

He opened his eyes, and was disappointed. This wasn't some rich room from a holoproj program. It was cold and made of steel, and the droid that was doing the cooking was a single-purpose, half-brained drone (one of the reasons Anakin had liked working on Threepio was that the protocol droid -- just on account of what it was supposed to do -- had to be able to do a lot of things and think in lots of ways). He sighed, and pushed the blanket down.

A door slid up, and a man in an olive green uniform came in. "Good evening, Master Skywalker," he said. "We're under orders to watch over you well. You've fallen into poor company. We barely had time to save you. Who knows where the rebel scum may have taken you, if they'd gotten you out of Mos Espa?"

Rebel scum ... anger rose in Anakin's throat, until he was sure he had to sick it up. Luke was his son. And Leia... had she said what he'd thought she'd said? Was she his, too?

"They're my friends," he said, having no desire to explain the situation to this man.

Soft bed or no, there was something wrong with this place.

"I note you share a name with the Jedi. He is, perhaps, your father?"

Anakin didn't answer. He didn't recognize any of the insignia on the man's uniform, but he did notice that there wasn't much of it, and Anakin talked to enough pilots to know that the higher the rank, the more buttons and ribbons went along with it. This guy was probably not much more than a lieutenant.

"If so, he doesn't deserve to have a son, not a man who would abandon you to the streets of Mos Espa, and only come to collect you when you got big enough to start to be useful."

"Where are they?"

"They have been placed under arrest. They'll be taken to Coruscant for trial."

"Why are you being so nice to me? I was with them. You should put me where they are."

"We are under orders to see that you come to no harm."

"Why?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it. Why not have some nice soup, and get some sleep?"

Anakin narrowed his eyes. He didn't like it when people thought he was stupid. "I want to know where my s- my friends are. I want to see them."

"It's not possible."

"Let me talk to someone who can make it possible."

"Someone will be coming soon enough." The officer went through the door, and it slid shut behind him.

Anakin thought about threatening to run into a wall and break his nose, then blame the officer for doing it when whoever it was got there, but he thought of Padmé right

then, about how reckless she thought he was, and he figured maybe she was right.

For a second, he was gripped by a panic that she was in a cell someplace, then he remembered that they'd been leaving in the first place because she'd slipped away. It was Luke and Leia and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon who were locked up. And these people with their soup and soft beds better not be hurting them.

What would she do? he wondered. What would she do if she was in a nice room while her (our) children were locked up someplace, maybe getting hurt?

Well, Padmé was with the queen, and she always spoke like she agreed with the queen. The queen was going to speak with someone to help her people. Patient and calm. Dignified.

He'd never be able to do that. He was no good at waiting. But he'd have to.

He looked around the room, trying to look casual, because he figured there'd be spy stuff in the walls. There were no free vent shafts -- the grates were actually cut into the wall, not removable. The door was locked. There was nothing to cut with. And the droid couldn't even talk, let alone be convinced to do something not exactly in its programming.

He had to think of something. He had to get Luke and Leia and the Jedi out of here (the idea that he'd be rescuing Jedi might have been funny, if he didn't have to figure out how he was going to go about it).

He set about looking for something he could use to break the lock.

------------------

A young Imperial ensign, Saryn Zoron, paced back and forth in the prison section. He had been ordered to make sure the Jedi didn't escape and was growing increasingly bored.

The only reason the captain put me here is so if they do get out, I'll be killed first.<

Snickering at an earlier joke, Saryn realized he had the sudden urge to check that younger Jedi's cell. What had been his name?

He couldn't remember. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be important if the prisoner had escaped somehow ... What's-His-Name was a Jedi, maybe he used some Jedi trick to zap himself away. He'd seen that in a holo once, as a kid.

"Don't be stupid, he has to be in there." Saryn rolled his eyes disgusted at himself but he couldn't shake the feeling that the prisoner had escaped.

After a half-hour of standing there, running through all the nursery rhymes he knew including 'Little Boy Jedi, come blow your Sax' and 'Little Ms. Yaddle, sat on her tuffet.' (What was a tuffet, anyway?)

Of course, one couldn't forget:

Yoda's gimmer stick sat on wall,

'til Yoda's gimmer stick had a great fall.
All of Yoda's knights and all of the Chancellor's men
Were glad they couldn't put the gimmer stick back together again.

Still, he couldn't put the feeling the Jedi had escaped out of his mind. Well.. I suppose opening the door for a second wouldn't hurt.

Keying in the intricate door code, he saw the Jedi kneeling on the floor, meditating. Saryn breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, hoping he hadn't disturbed the Jedi.

Before he could exit however, he was slammed on the head. Right before the blackness took over, Saryn saw the Jedi, (Obi-Wan, his mind supplied at last) leave, closing the door behind him.

------------------

Leia sat on the edge of the hard cot, glad that she'd been brought more comfortable clothes than the metal bikini before this happened. Hearing metal scraping on metal every time she shifted on the uncomfortable surface would have driven her mad by now.

She wondered if all the cells were this small, or if this had been given to her especially because she disliked small spaces. There was room here for precisely three paces in each direction, and turning usually involved hitting her hip on something. She'd finally giving up, but her mind continued to move, back and forth, over and over.

We should have told them everything before we went into town, they'd have been more careful, we'd have left sooner, they should have known Watto wasn't to be trusted...

And so on.

She heard a sound outside her cell door, a brief scratching, and she jumped to her feet, reaching instinctively for a blaster that had been taken away. She'd been out of the loop for six months and didn't have any vital information

(The rendezvous point at Sullust...)

that they would want, but that wouldn't stop them from pulling out the interrogator 'droid. Vader himself had used it sparingly and with distaste -- that had been bad enough, thank you -- but other Imperials were known to enjoy the devices a bit more than was good for them.

A muttered curse on the other side of the door, then a scrambling sound at the lock-pad to the side. The door rose. A brown-robed figure ducked inside, then closed the door again, jamming the lock mechanism with a piece of tan cloth.

Obi-Wan Kenobi turned to her. "Good to know it's one of us in here. There's a guard at the end of the hall. Hope you don't mind a moment's company before we get out of here."

Leia shrugged. "Not at all."

Kenobi gave her a grin, a rather dashing one, and she found herself returning it. She tried to call to mind the brief glimpse she'd caught of him as an old man, with white hair and a beard, falling beneath Vader's assault...

His eyes widened. "I die like that?"

She blinked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to send that to you at all. I didn't realize you'd see it. That's the only time we met before. And we didn't exactly meet."

"Hmm," he said, and said no more.

He pressed his ear to the cell door, and closed his eyes. Leia could see his brow furrow in concentration. Then he moved decisively, opening door, and stepping out into the corridor. He signaled for Leia to follow him.

------------------

Vader flipped out of Maul's reach, and hooked his old saber onto his belt, drawing the new one in the same motion. It would not have been effective as a throwing weapon, but as a duelling weapon, it would outmatch Maul easily.

The X-shape of the red beams lit the air in front of him, and he saw Maul ignite the other half of his double-bladed lightsaber. He attacked first.

Maul met his offense with graceful fury, using his weapon in smooth, precise arcs that met the pulsed energy of the crossed beams and used it as a repulsor. Vader was forced back a step.

"You always fought well," he said. "But your time is over, and has been for many years. You must return to your own era."

Maul didn't answer. He twisted his saber in a cartwheel, catching the edge of Vader's blade and sending it down. The old apprentice used the opportunity to somersault over Vader's head, putting himself closer to Sanctuary, further down the road. "I am ordered to retrieve the queen. The era in which I find myself doing so is of no concern."

Vader engaged him in a parry, trying to reverse their positions. "Whether or not your capture Amidala, your Master's vision will be fulfilled. She is incidental to him and to you."

"Then why protect her now?"

Vader tried to formulate an answer -- in fact, his protection of Amidala was as pointless as Maul's aggressive stance toward her. Whether or not Maul captured her, she would set Palpatine on the road to Empire. And whether or not Vader protected her now, she would die later.

But not until after Luke was born. He could not allow the despair over her death to stop him from keeping her child alive. Luke was destined to be his apprentice, his heir. Luke had to exist.

"The timeline," he finally said. "Consider it, Maul. Your Master has all he dreamed of in this time. All you both dreamed of. Will you risk it to change fate?"

Maul looked at him with loathing. "I care nothing for this timeline, and if you are apprentice now, then clearly I am not here to enjoy my Master's success. Perhaps I will change that."

He began another parry; Vader met it.

The duel rang out in the night.

------------------

Amidala let the girl lead her down the road, her eyes only drawn back to the brightly lit duel every ten steps or so.

"Come on," the child said, tugging at her arm. "He said to come to Sanctuary."

"Who is he?"

"He is Lord Vader, and you should do what he says. He wants what is best."

Amidala knew that the proper response was to reject it entirely; from what little she'd been able to glean about the current situation, she didn't think anyone in the Empire really wanted what was best. But she couldn't shake the sense that Vader, at least, wanted what he thought was best for everyone -- whether everyone liked it or not.

"My name is Dritali," the girl said, becoming conversational as soon as Amidala started to walk again. "I live at Sanctuary. Lord Vader sent me here, after he killed my father." Amidala felt a chill at the casual way Dritali said it, but she let the girl go on.

"He said that Kit would take care of me, if I just showed him this."

Dritali held up her arm, and Amidala saw a bracelet that reached most of the way to her elbow. It was cheap and not at all elaborate, but she thought it was an oddly attractive piece of jewellry.

Or at least that's what she'd thought when she'd seen it yesterday, on Shmi Skywalker's wrist.

Dritali smiled. "Kit looked like that when he saw it too. He won't tell me why. Will you?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Amidala said thinly. She no longer felt the urge to look back at the fight. "Let's move on to Sanctuary. I think I need to talk to Kit."

------------------

Anakin had gotten tired of trying to break his lock subtly. So, he had just broken the kitchen droid and started smashing the door open. Five minutes later, he was done.

I should have done this in the beginning. Much easier!

After exiting the nice prison cell (And if that wasn't at opposites, he wasn't sure what was), he starting running. He never got why people on holodramas and stuff would just walk when they were escaping. That just made it much easier for them to get caught. Maybe that was the point.

Slowing down as he passed a corner, he saw a small room with a partially closed door. Peering in, he saw a gnarled old human holo talking to that captain.

The captain was kneeling and kept his eyes on the ground, something that Anakin knew meant the old guy was important. Whenever Watto was especially mad when he wrecked a pod or something, he just keep his eyes on the ground and called him Master. Worked every time.

Straining his eyes, he overheard Old Man saying, "I will be on Tatooine soon... Two days at the most. Just break in the prisoners. No food and no sleep should work for now."

"Of course, my Emperor. And young Skywalker?"

Emperor? Luke and his friends are in it bad if there's an Emporer after them ... .

With a small flinch the boy realized, And now I'm in it too!

Walking away, he resolved to find the Jedi and friends if he had to look through the whole compound.

------------------

Obi-Wan left the room, feeling a little depressed. I die struck down, not willing to fight ... how fun for me.

After a few more minutes on this train of thought, he found a hand waving in front of his face. Catching it didn't require Jedi reflexes but holding in his blush when he figured out it was Leia's did.

Leia spoke calmly, a trait of a diplomat. "What about Qui-Gon and Luke?"

Obi-Wan could have told she really was concerned about Luke without the Force. Her voice tensed a little and her hands clenched. Irrelevant, but he had gotten good at noticing little things after Qui-Gon's focus on the Living Force.

"They have better locks then you." Obi-Wan gave a quick sardonic grin and turned out of the hallway.

"Should I be happy or insulted that I got a bad lock?" Obi-Wan glanced at her expression and had to put on his stoic-Jedi face to keep from laughing.

"If I were you, I'd be happy." As an afterthought he added, , she could imagine very well."Besides ... people are always paranoid about what Jedi can do. Some holodrama I had to watch in the Jedi temple had Jedi teleporting and fighting entire armies without even trying to get peace! Can you imagine?"

From the blush on Leia's face, she had believed the movie's portrayal of Jedi too. When I get back, I'll ask Master Yoda what he can do about Jedi PR.

"So, instead of getting to break them out the easy way, we need to find a computer accessable to the keycodes so we can break them out that way." Obi-Wan paused and took a quick glance to make sure the corrider was empty.

"It'd be easier to just find the code to open all prisoner doors at once, Obi-Wan." The statement was punctuated with a stare one expected from a Gamorean wrestler, not

a petite young woman from Alderaan.

"Or we could do that."

------------------

Anakin slipped out of his room (he tried to think of it as a cell, but found that he couldn't), makeshift club in hand, and out into the clean corridors of the ship.

For a ship, it most definitely was. Grounded at present, but vaguely aerodynamic. It looked like it could get places, and Anakin was vaguely curious about how it would be put together... but not as curious as he ought to be. Something told him that nothing about this ship would surprise him a lot. Things would be where he expected them to be.

He was right.

Down a staircase, into a hexagonal hallway. This would be

(the detention area)

where the prisoners would end up. Sure. Not anywhere close to the bridge -- which would be up several levels, if they were smart -- but not close enough to the bowels of the ship for an escaped prisoner to easily cause damage.

That's where I'd put it, if I were putting a prison on a ship.

The thought came quietly, with no fanfare, and Anakin accepted it without any sense of portent or premonition. It was a sense of mild discomfort that he might agree with the engineers who built this, but that was all.

Yet the odd little thought did linger, along with the more troubling question of why they'd put him in a nice room and tried to "save" him from his children and the Rebels, instead of just tossing him in a cell, too. Leia had talked a lot about the Empire when they were working together, and he didn't think they were the sort of people to just feel bad for the poor little kid.

The prison wing had one main corridor, and a second, smaller one that was perpendicular to it. There would be another corridor, parallel to the main one. Anakin didn't know how he knew this, but he did.

A guard appeared out of the smaller corridor, and Anakin barely had time to duck back into the place he'd come from.

Cautiously, he looked around the edge of the hall. The guard looked over his shoulder at the short corridor, as if he'd heard something, then shrugged and continued his route. He stopped by one door, kicked it, and said, "Comfortable, Jedi?" Whoever was behind the door didn't answer, and the guard, smiling now, did the same to another cell door across the hall. Also no answer. But Anakin had observed, and counted the doors, and noted which ones the guard had stopped at. He ducked back around the corner, and closed his eyes to call the image back up. Two on the left, three on the right...

"What are you doing here?"

He opened his eyes. The guard was glaring at him, weapon drawn. "Just looking around," he tried.

"You're not supposed to be down here. They said you might try. Go back to your room."

Anakin hadn't read a lot of stories -- who had time, with all the work to do? -- but he'd devoured every story about Jedi that he could find. And he knew from Watto that they really did try mind tricks from time to time. "I'll go back to my room," he said reasonably, and even started to turn. Then he called out mutely into... was it really the Force?... and pushed his mind out heavily at the guard. "And you will return to the bridge, Lieutenant."

The reaction was startling. Anakin had hoped that maybe it would work a little bit. He'd been prepared to be laughed at. But the guard staggered back, holding his head as if dizzy. Then he straightened up, a dreamy, distant look on his face, and he said, "Yes, m'lord" and walked away.

Anakin watched after him in gape-mouthed silence, and vowed to never use that trick again. It made him feel like he needed to wash his hands for about an hour, like he'd jumped in refuse and would stink of it for days.

Nevertheless, for now, it had worked. He took his club, and went toward the door on his left.

------------------

"What do you mean the Jedi are gone?" The Queen's voice was tightly controlled but a hint of anger had leaked through.

Lando shrugged and took a small look around the town's entrance. It was late now, late enough he would have to guess that it was almost dawn. "I meant what I said, Amidala."

He had never been one for formality, except when it suited him. Or when he was flirting. Besides, a fourteen-year-old who wore face-paint really wasn't his type.

Threepio sputtered out a nervous apology. "Ohh, Captain Calrissian doesn't mean anything by it. He's not a rude person, I promise," He paused, "please don't have me sent to the droid piles, your Majesty! Send Artoo!"

Chewie growled out a threat about what he did to droids who talked too much and Threepio shut up, scared straight.

Lando let out a chuckle as he saw proof that unreasonable fear wasn't just a Threepio trait. Several of the Naboo guards and that Gungan court jester were walking as far away from the Wookie as they could.

Yeah, Chewie's really going to just decide he doesn't like someone's hair color and rip

off their arms. Makes perfect sense.

Amidala was tapping her foot, he realized. She obviously expected him to say something. "Um ... hey, let's go find those Jedi, huh?"

The young Queen's eyebrows crinkled, but she motioned to her troops. "Spilt up into group of two or three. If you find anyone, you will take them back to the ship. We shall reconvene back at the ship in twelve hours, that should be more then enough time."

Lando started towards Chewie but the child-Queen grabbed his arm. "You, Captain, are coming with me."

Before he could even protest, he found himself being dragged off by the Queen.

Aggressive. Really, it's too bad she's not older.

------------------

Qui-Gon felt a surge of anger and annoyance flood the Force like a tidal wave, followed by intense self-loathing.

It's my father, Luke said to his mind.

Ani?

A chuckle, not at all in good humor. Ani. Yes. It's him.

There was no time to discuss the matter further. Metal clanged on metal at Qui-Gon's cell door, and the anger came back ... but it was a cleaner anger, maybe even an anger that Anakin wasn't aware of. Still not good, but at least not being consciously drawn upon.

The lock popped, and the door slid up. Ani smiled, purely relieved, and ran to him. "Qui-Gon! Sir, are you all right?"

Qui-Gon embraced him, and smoothed the mop of blonde hair that fit surprisingly neatly at the base of his own chin. "I'm all right, Anakin. You have lost your temper."

Anakin pulled away and looked down. "I have to get Luke out. And Obi-Wan." He was out of Qui-Gon's arms and across the hall before Qui-Gon could answer him, so he just followed.

Ani took his metal club -- which Qui-Gon recognized as some part of a droid, and smashed it against the locking mechanism.

"Ani," he said. "Someone will hear."

Anakin looked back guiltily. "I think maybe they won't come right away."

The door rose, and Luke was sitting there in a morose parody of meditation -- Qui-Gon was more generous than most masters, otherwise he might have considered it a pout. The elder/younger Skywalker (or was Luke the younger/elder?) simply looked at his father with resigned love -- and perhaps a bit of anger -- then stood and came into the corridor.

"Ani," Qui-Gon said, "I am glad to be free, but you mustn't use your anger like that."

Anakin simply gave him a puzzled frown. "I'm not angry."

Qui-Gon gingerly took the club away from him, then knelt down as he'd seen Shmi do earlier. It was a gesture that he thought Anakin would understand. "You have bludgeoned these doors open, and I imagine you did the same in your own cell -- "

Anakin flushed hotly at the word "cell," and averted his eyes.

Qui-Gon got that strange sense of shame and self-loathing again, but didn't let it distract him. He didn't sense that the boy had been hurt, and whatever reasons this future Empire had for its treatment of him were, in all likelihood, in his future, not his present. He glanced up at Luke, who was looking in any direction except Anakin's.

Interesting.

But the present was Qui-Gon's concern, and at present, he had a frightened nine-year-old boy with a lot of power inside him, who had used it in a way that felt personally wrong to him. "Ani," he said again.

Anakin's eyes found their way back to him.

"Anakin, you cannot just bludgeon your way in and out of situations -- "

"But it worked!"

"It always does," Luke said dryly. "And we don't have time to discuss philosophy."

"I couldn't agree more," Obi-Wan said, appearing from the short corridor. Qui-Gon had to suppress a grin; generally, Obi-Wan was willing to discuss philosophy at the point of gun, while Qui-Gon had to urge him out of it. "There are guards everywhere."

Leia was beside him. Anakin looked up at her hopefully, and was rewarded with a smile. Qui-Gon could almost feel the way the Force calmed around the boy at the sight of it. "Obi-Wan is right," she said. "It's time to get out of here."

"We'll need our weapons," Qui-Gon reminded her. "They should not remain in this time."

------------------

Maul finally made the mistake Vader had been waiting for. He counted on his finesse against the brute force of the four-blader, and it didn't work. Vader hadn't had to handle finessed saber-work for some time (he was, honestly, tiring), but this was the break he needed.

Maul tried to swing a quick double arc, feigning advance while executing a brief strategic retreat. The blades of the lightsaber dipped into a slight angle, just the one Vader could use to capture in the gaps of the x-shape of his own weapon. He twisted with all his strength, and Maul's weapon went flying into the darkness, creating a pinwheel of flaring red. Vader used the Force to call it to himself, and deactivated it. He advanced on his enemy, wondering in some far corner of his mind how exactly to end this fight without damaging the timeline irreparably. He couldn't kill Maul, and he had no idea how to simply send him back in time.

Kill him. Change the time line. One last murder to pay for all of them, and erase at least some of them.

The conundrum was too much. It made his head ache dully. If he killed him, and it changed everything, then he wouldn't be here to kill him and change everything.

So, you blow yourself out of existence. Is that really so bad? I mean, really? Amidala was before everything went bad. The children will still be here...

Vader cut off the unproductive line of thought. He'd only taken two threatening steps toward Maul. "Retreat," he said. "Return to your own time."

"I go where I please!" Maul spat. In a flash of speed unbelievable after a duel, he practically flew into the desert.

Vader debated following him, but realized that he still didn't know what to do if he caught this particular quarry. He supposed he should consult with Palpatine, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He assumed Palpatine's response would be to let the two of them fight it out, and see who was left standing. It was the Sith way.

Meanwhile, one thing was clear -- Maul knew where his quarry was, and what he intended to do with her. And Vader would not allow that to happen. He didn't bother making up an excuse about the timeline, or Luke.

He'd seen her again. He would not allow her to be harmed. Whatever it meant and whatever had happened, he discovered two things. The first was that he still loved her, and the second was that he didn't mind discovering that at all. It didn't even call to mind his weak former self (in fact, where Amidala was concerned, there was no former self, just the continuous sense of perfect symbiosis that had never left him). It was a simple constant, an instinct, and if he'd learned one thing that carried over between Jedi and Sith it was to trust one's instincts.

He sheathed his weapon, and headed for Sanctuary.

------------------

Amidala followed Dritali into the low-slung building. It was nestled into a valley protected by the mountains, and it bore the marks of once having been a fairly gracious underground palace. It was sparsely furnished now, but densely populated. Some of the children were her own age; most were younger.

A hand rested on her arm suddenly, and she turned to see a middle-aged man, with black hair and dark eyes, his face worn with weather and care. He looked like he was seeing a ghost.

Well, maybe he was.

"Amidala..." he whispered.

She nodded, not bothering to call herself Padmé. Kitster had obviously found out the truth somewhere along the line. "Hello," she said simply. "I'm a bit lost."

Then Kit's arms wrapped around her, and she felt herself held tight. It was the embrace of a brother, a friend, but it was full of years of experience that she hadn't had yet. It felt good. "I don't understand it," he said. "But you've been missed."

A thousand questions were on Amidala's lips. Why had she separated her children? Why didn't they know of each other's existence? Was she dead? What was this Empire? Where was Ani? That last somehow seemed the most important... but suddenly she didn't want to ask it. She wanted to ask anything else. She didn't want to know any of these answers.

Kit broke the embrace, and studied her face. "How long ago?" he asked. "You look just as you did in Mos Espa ..."

"That's where I came from. I saw you just this morning at the race."

"How much do you want to know?"

"You'd tell me, just like that?"

Kit looked around the crowded room. "These are the children of a war, Amidala. A war that's been going on for twenty years. I have little interest in protecting the timeline that led to it. But I will respect your wishes in the matter."

Amidala nodded. "Thank you. I need to consider it. I've met... my son... " She thought of Luke's face, and Leia's smile. There was something in this timeline that she wanted to protect. She was suddenly very tired. "I need time to think, and rest."

"Of course. I have private rooms. You may use them if you like."

"Thank you."

He led her to a quiet study, and she laid down on a simple couch. What do I need to know? What do I need to not know?

Her mind began its slow circling again, this time in earnest, and she didn't notice that she'd fallen asleep until she was awakened by the sound of soft, steady breathing. She felt a sense of complete, unquestioning protection, and pure and unsullied love. She'd felt a glimmering of it yesterday, but many years had passed since then, and it was stronger now.

She didn't open her eyes, though she felt tears welling up under the lids as she whispered, "Hello, Ani."

------------------

Sabè stood outside some building, waiting for Lando to come out. He had told her while stuttering, that he doubted they were in there but she insisted they look. Lando had relented but had made her stay outside.

Spotting him, she waved him over. "Were they in there?"

"Unless Padmé or Leia have a part-time job we really don't want to know about, no."

Trying to puzzle it out, she blushed when she finally did. Sabè knew she was extremely naive for sixteen at certain things, it came from being raised by a militant father. She loved her father very much but it had been a huge relief to leave home to work for Amidala.

"So do you think they're even in town?" Lando's question was lazy, he probably didn't expect an answer.

"Where else would they...be." Sabé trailed off as she saw the armored men in white look straight at her. "Run!"

To his credit, he didn't argue. He just ran as she did, cursing the outfit that slowed her so much. Entering an alley, they lay in wait until the men in white passed. "What were those things?"

Lando's voice was a little grim. "Those were stormtroopers. Still feel confident the others could handle them?"

"They're just big men with guns. That's all." Sabé nodded and clasped her hands when she noticed they were shaking a little.

"Big men with guns in troops of twelve against a kid, a handmaiden, a princess, three Jedi and a partridge in a pear tree. If they got taken by surprise...." Lando stopped that rain of thought and abruptly smiled. "But, hey, let's keep looking."

Sabé ignored her growing fear and led the way out, as queenly as Amidala ever was. Almost.

------------------

Vader stood quietly over his wife -- but it was so many years until she would be his wife, and had been so many years since! -- not knowing what to say to her. Her eyes had not opened, but she had spoken his name. His former name. The name that brought up all the unreasoning rage in his mind.

Except when she spoke it.

When she spoke it, he simply accepted it as his own, the way he might accept an old glove that didn't quite fit right anymore. "I have been called Vader for many years," he said.

"By me?"

"No. Never by you."

Her eyes opened. The tears welled out of them and spilled down her cheeks. "I want to ask what happened. I want to ask it, but I can't."

"It is well that you do not. You have some happiness in your future. I am sorry that this will cloud it."

She sat up, gazing coolly at him. "What are your intentions here?" Her eyes were neither frightened nor disgusted. All he saw was the icy appraisal of the queen of Naboo.

He stood forward into the light to submit to it. "Amidala, I have no ill intentions toward you. I merely wanted to see you. It has been... many years for me. I had not intended to wake you at all, only to stay and guard you from a second attack. I will not harm you."

Her eyes narrowed, but softened. "I believe you." She did, Vader could feel that she did in the soft aura of the Force that surrounded her. But he could also feel a high sense of nervousness, a fluttering heartbeat, a ghost-word floating through her consciouness... she was afraid of him in some way that did not appeal to him at all.

It came to him in a flash, though the fear was not fully formed in her own mind. The word that was haunting her was "husband." Vader stepped away, to give her more space. "Amidala, I desire the woman you will become. For the child you are, I have... remembered affection of friendship. You have no reason to fear... " For a moment, he was at a loss for words. He concluded simply with, "I will not touch you in that manner."

He felt the relief come from her, but also a certain self-conscious embarrassment. Vader remembered it well. She gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you, Ani. I will remember in a few years that such a statement... stings a bit."

"No, you won't."

Astonishingly, she laughed. Then she burst into tears.

Vader stood watching her, not having the first idea what to do.

------------------

Amidala got the crying fit under control. It wasn't like her, but then this was all too much. She tried to recapture the thought that it was all a dream, tried to weave any fantasy that would make this go away, but they all hit the solid, unyielding surface of the man who stood in the shadows.

Her husband-who-would-be-and-once-was. This monster, this beast in a death's head mask.

Ani.

The tears threatened again. How could she go back? How could she marry him? How could her children be born? This man... she had heard whispers of him in Mos Espa, and her captor had spoken of him as though they had the same master. How could she hold him in anything but contempt?

And yet she didn't feel that. She felt only a deep connection to him, deeper even than their shared children. She didn't want to feel it, but it was there. She heard their years together in his speech -- it was her own practiced, formal throne room speech. She saw the protective stance he took at the door. She understood that he'd spoken the simple truth when he'd said that he merely wanted to see her. She'd felt his love for her... and she felt her own potential to return it.

Even like this.

Maker help me.

"Amidala, I know this is difficult to understand... "

"How can I stop it?"

The sentence came out flatly, coldly, not at all the tone she meant, but Ani didn't react badly to it. He simply fell to his knees before her, and took her hands.

"Amidala," he said, "you cannot."

"You can't want this..."

"That isn't what I mean. This is not your responsibility. It is not your fault. It is not something you can fix."

"Is it something you could fix?"

He drew away abruptly, and stood. His voice became as cold as hers had been. "Do not make assumptions about what I want and what I do not want."

"It's too late for that, Anakin Skywalker. You already told me what you want, through your own actions. Now tell me how to help you get it."

He stood in the doorway for a moment, then simply repeated, "There is nothing you can do." He turned around. "This conversation is at an end. You will remain here until a way is discovered to return you to your own time. I have... " His voice broke for a moment, and she listened to the sound of the respirator. It was nearly a whisper when he spoke again, oddly stiff and formal. "I have enjoyed speaking with you, my love," he said, and disappeared into Sanctuary.

------------------

Vertash had twisted his ankle jumping off a couch -- it had been a spirited game of Tusken and Farmer, and Vertash, as always, had chosen to be a Tusken Raider -- and Kit was wrapping a supporting bandage around it when Anakin (or Vader, whatever he was calling himself these days; Kit wasn't picky) came out of the back room. He'd returned to Sanctuary not long after Amidala had gotten there, and asked politely enough if he might see her. Kit had told him she was sleeping; he had promised not to wake her. Somehow, Kit doubted that the promise had been kept.

Vertash wiggled his foot and cleared his throat, and Kit realized that he'd stopped rolling out the bandage. He finished it up. "Good as new," he said absently.

Vertash slipped down off the table, sought out Kerea (who was too upset by An- Vader's presence to join the games), and promptly tried to engage her in a card game of some kind. Kit had time to see her smile before he felt Vader standing behind him. Strange, how the pneumatics had become so constant that he almost didn't hear them. "What are your plans?" he asked.

"I must return her to her own time," Vader said. "Until then, she will remain here. I will watch over her and see to it that Maul brings no harm to her or to your home."

Kit wasn't sure how to bring up the next subject, so he dove straight in. "Your presence is disturbing some of the children."

Vader looked at him blankly -- of course it was blank, it was the damned mask, except that Kit thought the look underneath might be the same; blank puzzlement: And what do you want me to do about that? I have other priorities...

"I'm sorry, Anakin," he said, "but it's true. You are welcome to be here, but I can't say that I hope for a long visit. And I must ask you to..."

"I will remain discreet," Vader said.

Kit noticed that he had not been corrected on the name, but chose not to point that out. "I appreciate it."

A small hand touched Kit's, and there was no great surprise in seeing that it was Dritali's. She was looking up at Vader, her neck craned and her eyes directed nearly toward the ceiling -- she looked like a tourist getting the first glance of a skyscraper on Coruscant. "May I talk to you, Lord Vader?" she asked quietly.

"No," Anakin said, "you may not."

He turned, and went out toward the gardens.

Dritali bit her lip, and Kit was engaged in trying to cheer her up when the door to the back rooms opened again. He didn't see it.

------------------

Vader stalked through the gardens. Mainly rock gardens at this level, decorative stones, chosen for color and shape. Some such gardens could be lovely. He had seen one on the world of Reshtal which glowing obsidian and deep aquamarine... this one was a Tatooine garden. Sandstone and more sandstone, with varying degrees of red and brown. Some stones were flecked with mica. Most were just oddly shaped. It was a poor garden, shaped by children. Much like the one Kit had kept in Mos Espa, many years ago.

Vader leaned down, saw a smooth shape that looked like a pointing hand. He had found that in the desert during a trading expedition with the jawas that Watto had sent him on. Kit had kept it. The galaxy was full of many strange puzzlements.

He reached out, found Maul easily -- he was running in the desert. Not far from... other figures. Who...?

He concentrated more deeply. Rabé. Eirtaé. Names that he had neither spoken nor thought in many years. But they had been...

...sent out in this forsaken desert, while her Highness puts herself in grave danger and...

...it really is beautiful in its own way and I wish I was home on Naboo and...

...this'm berry bad, wesa got no nothing out here in the desert, if someone's deciding to crunch us...

Sabé had split up the remaining group. Interesting strategy. It would foil the stormtroopers for a little while, if they had to search for several small groups. Oddly, Vader felt no inclination at all to send word to the military about this knowledge.

He heard a light footstep, crunching on the gravel path, and thought it was the girl Dritali again. He did not wish to be seen attached to a clinging child (though he was in an honest enough mood to admit that it was gratifying to be important to her). He spoke as he began to turn. "I was quite serious about not wishing to speak to you."

"I didn't believe you," Amidala said. "I still don't."

"Go back inside, Amidala."

She shook her head, took a few more tentative steps toward him. "I can't do that, Ani. I can't walk away from you." Then, in a quick motion, she covered the rest of the distance between them. Her arms wrapped around his waist. Her cheek pressed against the machinery of his chest.

For a moment, he was too bewildered to even comprehend what she had done. He brought his hands to her shoulders, meaning vaguely to push her away, but instead, he simply stroked her hair. It was not... in any way improper. She simply... needed comfort. It was the sort of comfort she had offered him on the ship as it left Tatooine, when he was cold. Of course, for her, that hadn't happened yet. The odd thought came into his mind that he was teaching her to comfort him... if that would happen now. He doubted it would. She would be crazy to retain any fondness for him, knowing what would happen. "You must leave me," he said, finally remembering to separate himself from her.

"Why? Are you planning to do something you don't want me to see?"

"No. But you do not belong here."

"I've met our son, Ani. I want... " She shook her head and bit her lip. "I want you to tell me that we were happy. That we... "

"We were happy," he said curtly. He thought of Luke again, Luke falling into the windswept core of Cloud City, his mutilated arm waving obscenely up. If she had met him, then he was still close. He was...

...in prison. Or at least on board the ship. I... he/I... younger... Ani had gotten him out of the cell. Vader searched for a scrap of memory of having done this, but found nothing. He had simply read his own mind. A strange, twisted feeling.

"Amidala, I must go into town. Remain here."

"No."

"Luke has been captured. I can have him released, along with the others. I will deal with them at a later point, but I cannot allow the timeline to be polluted by their capture at this juncture."

"I'm going with you."

"Amidala -- "

"This is not open for debate. If you're going, I am going. Whatever you plan to do, you can do it with me watching."

He didn't have time to argue the point with her. He turned. If she was going to follow, she'd just have to keep up.

------------------

Amidala was beginning to get a stitch in her side from running, but she did not let Anakin out of her sight, and he did not slow his pace to accomodate her. He was as stubborn as an adult as he was as a child, at any rate. But that was all right. Amidala was stubborn, too.

She ignored the pain in her side and quickened her pace, her toes catching the faint edges of his moonlit shadow. She had a mad urge to step on it, to catch it like a cape and hold him still.

There was such a frenetic energy in him, in the way he walked, the way he'd been prowling the garden... but she had held him still, just for a moment. Granted, it had been the stillness of perfect shock, but it had been some kind of stillness, at least.

And why did you do that?

Oh, but that was the question, wasn't it?

She had not intended to embrace this monster that Ani had become. He frightened her, and contemplating the things he might be capable of doing made her stomach turn. In that brief moment of touching him, she'd felt -- almost seen -- that he had done things beyond her worst imaginings. Yet, she had not let go. She had needed to know what it felt like to hold him, to be held by him. She'd needed to know what it meant that he loved her. She'd needed to know that the children they would create came from what was good and true in both of them.

And she had felt it.

When she'd first seen him there in the garden, bending stiffly to examine a red rock, the thought had come to her cleanly and firmly: I will stop this. I will not allow this to happen to him. Thoughts of what had happened to the rest of the galaxy were distant and unreal. It was Anakin Skywalker that she wanted to save. And, unfortunately, the only way to accomplish that end was to directly defy what he had become, to draw on a relationship she didn't yet understand in order to move him away from... all this.

He stopped abruptly in the fringes of Mos Espa, and held up one hand for her to stop as well. She ignored it until she was beside him. "What?"

He turned his head. She wished he wouldn't look at her; the mask was disconcerting. "The Emperor is coming," he said. "It is better for you not to see him."

"Better for which of us?"

He didn't answer. He simply stared at her for a moment more, then went into town. She followed him through twisting streets, past the spaceport, and into an open area, where a large gray ship had docked. He strode toward it without hesitation. She followed, close enough for the wind to billow his cape against her face.

A cluster of guards waited at the base of the gangplank, and they bowed to him. "Lord Vader, this is unexpected -- "

He started in without acknowledging them. Amidala started to follow, but was met by the noses of several blasters. Anakin stopped at the top of the gangplank, and stood quietly. After a moment, he simply said, "She is with me."

The guards immediately parted, and Amidala followed Vader into the ship.

The commander -- at least Amidala assumed it by his position on the bridge -- immediately stood at attention. "Lord Vader."

"It is my understanding that several Rebels have been taken prisoner."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Release them immediately. They unknowingly occupy a strategic position in current operations."

The commander looked at his feet. "I apologize, Lord Vader, but I cannot comply."

Anakin raised his hand, and the officer began to grasp at his throat. Amidala gasped.

The black mask turned toward her again, then the hand lowered and the officer drew in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry, Lord Vader."

"Why do you defy me?"

"The orders to detain them come from the Emperor himself. I cannot disobey."

------------------

Anakin stopped. His blood was suddenly cold and fiery at the same time, and his head was pounding. Across from him, Luke was staring at the arch that led into the corridor.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had used mind tricks to get them into the storage room where their weapons were kept, and they'd just finished getting them (Anakin had kept his broken piece of droid) when the air changed. Luke seemed to notice it most, though Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon looked up as well, and Anakin thought Leia got a little bit pale.

But it was his own reaction that scared him, big time. He felt like all his bones were shattered and the bits were jiggling around in his muscles. He felt like diving for cover. And he felt like covering his face and crying in shame. "What's happening?" he managed to whisper.

Luke picked him up with no preliminaries shifted him to his back to be carried -- Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd been carried anywhere -- and said, "We're getting off this ship, now."

No one offered any arguments. Leia led the way, saying briefly that she knew the ship's class.

They wound down through corridors into a cargo bay, which looked to Anakin like a dead end -- all his earlier clarity about the ship seemed to have disappeared. Leia lifted a panel in the wall, and a huge section of the hull slid sideways. An alarm sounded somewhere above.

"Run!" Qui-Gon yelled.

The four adults spilled out through the newly opened hatch, and Anakin could hear Luke's labored breathing. "I'm slowing you down!" he said. "Drop me!"

"I carried Yoda ten kilometers a day. I can -- " he gasped a breath " -- carry you two or three."

"I can run."

"I don't have time to find out."

They were up and over a dune, headed out into the desert.

Leia stopped and looked at Luke. "Where now? Can we make it to the Falcon?"

"Maybe. I don't know. This isn't my city."

"It's mine," Anakin said.

Luke nodded, and finally let go of him. He slid to the sand. It was a good thing Luke hadn't dropped him to run -- his legs were numb from being held, and he just crumpled down to his knees.

With an effort, he stood up, and started walking the blood back into his legs. "We went the other direction from where the queen's ship is. It's a long way now, and we'd have to go back through them."

"I think perhaps we should find a different solution," Qui-Gon said. He put his hands on Anakin's shoulders, and that felt good and solid. The panic that had started in the ship began to abate.

"There's a cave out there, where the jawas sometimes camp. I can get us there."

Leia was already nodding, but Luke said, "No. I think your hideouts aren't the best places to be. We should find someplace new. Someplace you haven't been before."

Anakin nodded and looked at his feet. In the calmness Qui-Gon had cast over him, pieces were beginning, slowly, to float together. "Are you going to tell me why?" he asked quietly.

Luke started to speak, then shut his mouth and shook his head.

Qui-Gon knelt down beside him. "Ani," he said, "whatever is happening here, you do not have the blame for it right now. Don't cast your eyes down. But Luke is, perhaps, right to seek out new shelter."

Anakin nodded. "Well," he said, "I'll let you guys lead, then. Does anyone know the desert?"

"I know the desert," Luke said. "Let's go."

------------------

Qui-Gon kept his hand on Ani's shoulder, partly to keep the boy calm and keep his mind from putting the whole picture together, partly to steady himself. He'd felt the new presence come on board the ship, and it was unmistakable. Anakin Skywalker wrote a unique signature on the Force, and it had broken into the world of the Imperial ship with a vengeance. It was shot through with hate and anger and fear, but its essentially self-ness was still there.

The Chosen One had turned. Was this the Balance of the Force, then? This awful destruction and oppression?

No. Qui-Gon refused to believe that. Balance meant something different. Something that was about renewal and kindness. He'd seen that as clearly as he saw the stars in the night sky above him. He'd seen it in Anakin's future, and in Shmi's eyes. The balance was the return of compassion for the individual in a galaxy that had lost sight of it...

But the Chosen One had turned.

Could a Sith even know compassion, let alone bring it to the Force?

He had an urge to steal Ani away, to raise him in this timeline and therefore steal away what he had become, but he knew he couldn't do that. And don't you mean "train," not "raise"? The boy is not your son.

Ani's small hand reached up and touched his, and he smiled. Obi-Wan, walking to their left, gave a look of semi-guarded jealousy.

Luke turned to the east, and followed a small gravel path into the foothills of the distant mountains.

------------------

Lando brushed a hand through his hair, growing a little nervous but determined not to show it. The last thing he needed was a panicked Queen.

Besides... This was Mos Espa and fear wouldn't ever be great to show in a place like this. You could never tell who could be paying attention and with a young, pretty girl walking with him....

He might have taken risks by himself but even he had limits. Unlike Jabba, (And Lando couldn't hold in the shudder that came with the name) Lando had respect for other's lives.

"What's the matter, Captain?" The regard in Sabé's voice seemed true enough, if a little odd.

"Nothing..." Lando threw a quick smile at the teen before changing the subject. "I was on an undercover mission right before this. With a Hutt. Have you ever seen a Hutt?"

Sabé raised an eyebrow. "How could a Hutt go undercover?"

The phrase gave him a a rather silly mental image of Jabba trying to sneak around in a cloak and a wig. It might have been the panic rising up but he chuckled a little.

"Actually, the Princess and I were trying to save Han. I owed him a debt and it was my turn to pay up," Lando shifted uncomfortably. "I was really looking forward to getting off this planet. The last couple months have given me enough Outer Rim for a lifetime."

"I can imagine how one could tire of this planet ... there!" The last statement was punctured with a point towards a pair of stormtroopers. The two tried to make themselves inconspicuous until Sabè sighed in annoyance.

"This isn't getting us anywhere. If they were smart, they would have left Mos Espa long ago. We might as well be looking for them in the desert!"

Lando blinked, slowly. What was the one place he had heard most about Tatooine? Sith, the one place everyone in the rebellion had! Beggar's Canyon! Ever better, if he remembered the basic geography he had meomerized before becoming Jabba's guard, it was about an hour east.

The dark-skinned Captain grinned in anticipation. The Imps would never know to look there. Who else but the Rebels had a farmboy-turned-Jedi known for comparing shooting down the Death Star to womprat hunting?

"Come on Sabé. I know where they'll be headed."

He walked away, heading out to the desert with Sabé jogging along next to him. "You know that I didn't mean for us to look in the desert."

Which seems like a pretty good reason towards why this will be fun.

Instead he said simply, "Yeah."

An hour came quickly with the Queen making smart remarks and Lando laughing at her. Soon enough, they reached Beggar's Canyon and saw the group standing around.

Obi-Wan and Luke were sparing, wow, Obi-Wan was good. But when will those jumps ever come in handy? If he falls off a roof?

Leia was watching the spar. She looked like she wanted to get her mind off of something.

Qui-Gon was lecturing Anakin about anger and hasty decisions. Well, if the kid was anything like Luke, it was time well spent. Only problem was, Anakin looked like his mind was elsewhere.

Well, that wasn't that unusual, when he was a kid he'd never paid attention to lectures either. The thought was interuppted when Anakin stole a look at him and waved. "Captain Calrissian?"

Lando repressed a shudder when he heard the title. Which was odd, he hadn't done that since Cloud City ... with Vader.

------------------

Rabé blew out her breath, she was just beyond excited now. The fifteen-year-old had kept a sheltered life before she had been chosen by the Queen to be a handmaiden. Still, even that ended up with her stuck in a palace all day with tending to the Queen or practicing her fighting skills.

When she had discovered she was on a planet controlled by Hutts, instead of acting like anyone with sanity and being scared, she had felt overjoyed. That was mistake number one.

Mistake number two had come from not listening to her inner voice. She had just known something was going to happen but she hadn't wanted to look the fool and say it. Like she didn't look any stupider now, walking around town with a Gungan who wouldn't stop babbling about how they were all going to die?

"Mesa thinkin' wesa in twoble!" Jar Jar then did some odd thing where his tongue touched his nose. Rabè couldn't stop the smile that appeared on her face when Eirtaé reached up and bopped him softly on his head.

"Maybe you'll be quiet now, hmm?" Eirtaé did a small mock-glare, she was great at those. Too great, apparently because Jar Jar started cowering.

"Back on track -- Hey, Jar Jar, there's no need to stop walking! Look, we need to figure out a good place to search... Eirtaé, you're good with psychology, where's a good place these people would go?"

"Some place comforting. Homelike, maybe." Eirtaé's eyebrows crinkled as she thought.

They went on that way for a few minutes until Jar Jar started whining about a loud sound.

"What loud sound would that be, Jar Jar?" Rabè examinded his large ears before deciding that anything loud to him could just be a bug.

"Da sound of bad things coming thisa wayz!" He started jumping up and down, full of way to much energy.

Eirtaè sighed, " Jar Jar, nothing's around us." The younger handmaiden took a patronizing glance around them before stuttering out. "Rabè, do not tell me that's what it think it is, do not!"

Rabè turned around and immediately wished she hadn't. A horned man with tattoos littering his face stood directly in her line of vision. "I'm sure it isn't." She paused. "It looks like it's much worse."

"Do me a favor and don't have kids. I so don't think a child could stand this much comforting."

------------------

Luke had climbed up into the rocks along the canyon wall to try and meditate. His emotions had been high and vacillating all day, from the sheer joy of seeing his father whole and innocent, to sullen rage at thinking what he had become. He thought he'd come the closest in Mos Espa, just before they'd been captured... he was angry at how things turned out, and he needed to acknowledge that and deal with it... but he wanted to save this boy.

He loved his father.

In a way, it was repulsive to know that. Was he so desperate for a piece of his past that he was actually willing to forgive Darth Vader, who had spread terror and destruction across the galaxy?

But it didn't feel that way. It didn't feel like he was forgiving him at all. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his meditation -- not on the Force, or trying to see the future, but on trying to see his own heart. The vision that came was of himself, lightsaber raised, storming a vast fortress. It was guarded by Vader... but not Vader. In an upper window, looking helplessly down at the sharp rocks, was his Father, the boy down in the canyon now. He was begging, beseeching...

That was wishful thinking.

"Not necessarily."

Luke opened his eyes, startled. Qui-Gon Jinn had made his way up to the narrow place, and sat perched on a sharp rock where Luke had been unable to find purchase.

"You saw that?"

"I apologize," Jinn said, giving him a warm smile. "I didn't mean to intrude. But you... do not block terribly well. The vision simply seeped out of you. The creature at the door, this is a person you know?"

Luke nodded. "It's Father. Father as he is now."

"So I feared." Jinn looked down across the canyon, and Luke noticed for the first time that Lando had arrived, with a girl about Mother's age, dressed in a colorful uniform. Her face was painted white. Lando was looking oddly at Father. Jinn sighed. "I had wondered about your mixed feelings, padawan. You have met, then?"

"We have. We fought. He told me the truth."

"The truth is a valuable gift to give."

Luke shook his head. "Hardly a gift."

"A difficult gift, padawan. Yet still a gift, I believe. This truth you know -- it has made you see things differently."

"It's made me confused."

"Confusion is the first mark of wisdom. Only a fool is always sure."

Luke couldn't imagine why he found the conversation vaguely comforting, but he did. He smiled. "Maybe I'd rather be foolish."

"So you say now."

"Ben... Obi-Wan... told me that Vader betrayed and murdered my father. You know him. Why would he lie like that?"

"He wouldn't. I imagine he believes it, at least from some point of view... "

"Believed."

Jinn's face grew slack and sad. "That is not an easy truth to contemplate. Obi-Wan is like a son to me."

"And he was like a father to me."

Jinn raised an eyebrow, dissipating the gloom. "Which I suppose makes me your spiritual grandfather."

Luke surprised himself by giving a small laugh. "I suppose."

Jinn grew serious again. "Luke, your burden is not an easy one to bear. But there is strength in you that you do not suspect. And your vision -- "

"My vision was wishful thinking. Anakin Skywalker isn't a prisoner that Vader is keeping. They're the same person. I just want them to be different."

"I can see that, and you're correct. It would be dangerous to begin thinking of them as separate people. But the man I saw in your vision, the threshold guardian... even he is not wholly lost, at least not in your view."

"No, you're wrong, you don't know what I've seen... "

"Look at your vision again, Luke. Look closely. Watch what you see. It is not realistically true, of course, but you sense something. You sense something and you have created it symbolically."

Luke reluctantly examined his childish image again, feeling self-conscious now that he knew Jinn was looking. Father was standing at the window, looking down. Vader paced below the door, lightsaber drawn...

No, the lightsaber wasn't drawn. Vader was watching and waiting, but he wasn't attacking. Luke himself was the one doing the attacking.

He looked at the window, but that was no help. Father was reaching to him, but it was too far. His hands dangled out and...

Luke focused on the vision, seeing something suddenly that he hadn't seen before: from each of Father's fingers, a gossamer-thin thread floated down, and attached to Vader like a puppet. As he watched one of the threads broke, and Father lost control, but his face grew intent, and he spun it again somehow. He lost control, and he lost it often, Luke thought. But he could regain it.

He opened his eyes. Qui-Gon Jinn was smiling sadly. "Did you see what your vision was saying?"

------------------

Eirtaé groaned to herself as the tattooed monstrosity motioned for them to follow. A little unsteadily, they did so, not quite sure what Tattoo would do if they didn't.

Walking across the desert, Eirtaé had to shield her eyes from the biting sand. She could just imagine the galactic travel brochures. Visit Tatooine, for a day in the sun! There's always an empty beach, where you can perfect your tan. So, for fun in the sun, with gambling on the side, Tatooine!

After many bitter mental tangents, the small group reached a transport. A very expensive looking transport. What is a ship like that doing in a place like this?

Tattoo glared at them and ran a pink tongue over his fangs. He then started walking in, making it painfully clear they should follow. She had to stifle a giggle when she saw both Rabé and Jar Jar stick out their tongues at his turned back.

Unwillingly, they followed Tattoo into the complex hallway mazes. As if trying to learn the layout for an escape course wasn't hard enough, Jar Jar kept mumbling, "Thism berry bad."

After a few minutes of that, Eirtaé really wanted to hit him. Unfortunately, that would only draw unwanted attention to themselves.

Speaking of unwanted attention, Eirtaé held in a gasp as Rabé took out a bottle of bright pink nail polish and threw out the contents at Tattoo's back. Well, that's one way to get back at someone.

Finally, reached a small sparse room, where a figure sat. He turned to face them and an aura of power hit her all at once, making her want to kneel and beg and scream for forgiveness all at once.

"Ahh. The young Handmaidens. Thank you, Maul, they will be of great use. You may go now." The man faced the armored men in red. "Dispose of the alien."

Rabé's voice rose, cracking just a little. "You can't do this! I don't know who you think you are but---"

"I am the Emperor, my dear. And I can do whatever I wish." Eirtaé shuddered as she watched him smile. It was sinister, it was wrong. It made her feel like she should go wash just from standing near him.

"What do you want from us?" Eirtaé was shocked to hear herself saying that, she supposed her mind was running on automatic.

"Isn't it obvious? Blackmail for your Queen and for my Skywalkers." He chuckled a little. "For what is a Sith without a following?"

Rabé, always one for information, spoke up. "I thought there could only be two, Emperor."

"Yes, well, I'm not one for tradition. Besides, young one, when they had only two, did Sith rule over all? I do."

Jar Jar, the ever straightforward, stupid guy he was, spoke up. "Thism berry nuts. Yousa berry nuts!"

A red guard took a quick glance at the Emperor and in an attempt to stop the coming ire, spoke up quickly. "Your opinion matters so much to us, alien. It really does. Now come, it's cell-time for you."

"That taken care of, do you wish to tell me how you got here?" The Emperor made sure his tone was pleasing, but Eirtaé wasn't falling for it.

"Not really." Faster then she would have thought humanly possible, blue lightening shot out of the leader's fingertips. Rabé crumpled to the ground in a grotesque parody of a puppet.

He turned. "Now, Eirtaé dear, do you wish to tell me?"

------------------

Vader could feel the Emperor somewhere nearby. His transport had landed, but his presence was so overwhelming that it seemed to come from everywhere at once, which wasn't helpful when trying to pinpoint a location. Whatever happened, he couldn't allow Amidala to see Palpatine. She would know everything then, and Palpatine was not enough of a fool to believe she would simply go back and act out the old script again. Almost enough of a fool, Vader thought sometimes, when feeling particularly morose -- his Master was powerful and intelligent, but his ego was so large that he often made very preventable mistakes by underestimating his enemies (and those he thinks are his allies, a soft voice whispered in Vader's mind, as it frequently did) -- but not quite.

He could feel Amidala a few feet behind him, could almost see her face. She would be wearing her expression of practiced academic interest, her eyebrows ever so slightly arched, eyes looking pointedly at one object or another... never wide-eyed wonder, never disinterest. I am aware, that look said. I see everything and I understand everything, or will very soon. You can hide nothing from me.

Vader stopped walking outside the room that contained his hyperbaric chamber (apparently, his presence had been expected in some quarters; a ship that suited his needs had been brought). "You cannot remain with me, Amidala," he said.

"I will remain where I choose to remain."

Her voice was neither angry nor defiant. She was stating a fact, nothing more. Vader smiled beneath his mask. "The galaxy has changed since you last walked in it."

"I can't say I find it an improvement." She came around him, gave him a guarded look.

"Though I suppose that if you really mean to send me away, you have the power at your disposal to have me dragged."

"Yes, I do."

She nodded. "Well, if that's really what you want, you can call the guards."

It was not at all what Vader wanted. The urge to have her leave had only a slight advantage in his mind as it was; the idea of seeing her dragged away by stormtroopers -- almost certainly straight to Palpatine, he was beginning to think; it would solve all the problems Palpatine perceived to remove her from the picture -- was enough to defeat it. So he simply looked away from her. "You must leave," he repeated, though he had little hope of changing her mind.

"And where would I go? Our chi -- our son has been captured, and escaped, and I don't know where he and my companions have gone. My ship is certainly observed by now."

She started to say, "Our children," Vader thought. An interesting piece of information to stow away, and it... feels true. There is another. How? But this was not the time to pursue the matter. Her suspicions were already up. She was keeping her later self's secret out of some autocannibalistic loyalty. He thought it wise not to disturb it quite yet.

"These are my private chambers," he said. "I will rejoin you shortly."

"I'm coming in with you."

"My private chambers."

"So, I'm to wait in the hall?"

Vader wanted to sigh -- loudly -- but of course it wasn't possible. "Very well," he said. "You may enter."

She smiled. "Thank you."

------------------

Amidala entered Ani's quarters not knowing what to expect at all. Yesterday, his room had been neat, if packed with too many toys and projects for its size. These quarters were beyond neat; they were sterile. Surfaces gleamed dully at her, and terminals blinked in shades of green. A viewscreen dominated one wall. The only pieces of furniture were a small couch and a metal bubble of some sort that dominated the center of the room.

Ani indicated the couch. "Sit here," he said. "I will rejoin you." He hit a control panel, and the metal bubble split open, dull teeth appearing in the maw. Ani walked toward it, like a martyr stepping into a draigon's mouth in a fairy tale. robotic arms were beginning to emerge.

Amidala had seen the beginnings of such technology -- pneumatic respirators were not completely unheard of in her own time -- and she knew the function. This bubble was a place where he could exist without the mask. She had been starting to sit on the couch -- she was willing to give him some privacy; she just didn't want to leave him -- but the implications of that hit her, and she stopped. She could see him. She could truly see Ani, not this mask. She could look into his eyes and understand who he had become and why he still loved her, and why she was not afraid of him even though she knew she should be. She could see the face of her husband. Of her otherself.

But she didn't know how to ask such thing, even how to begin to ask for it. So she simply turned to him, looked at the bubble and glanced back up.

He drew back, horrified. "No," he said. "I absolutely forbid it."

She lowered her eyes. "I understand."

To her surprise, he didn't immediately go inside and shut her out. "The oxygen would make you dizzy, anyway," he said.

"I've been dizzy before." She chanced a glance up at him.

He was standing uncertainly, his head cocked slightly to one side, one hand lifted toward the bubble controls but not doing anything. "If you see me as I am, you'll never see anything else in me," he said. "There is a face between the one you know and the one you see that I would... prefer you to think of."

"Do you think I can forget this mask?" And there it was. The truth. She hadn't realized it, and it was an ugly, awful truth. She wanted to see his face because she couldn't bear the thought of marrying a monster and a face would help... Dear Maker, am I really so shallow? She looked away, sat on the small couch. "I'm sorry. I don't mean..."

A hand fell on her shoulder, gently. "You would not be human if this did not... disturb you. We are visual creatures. I am aware of the effect. I am not offended."

"I am still sorry."

"Come. It is not a pleasant sight, but if you would see it, you may."

Amidala stood shakily, and followed him into the bubble. The teeth closed, and they stood together in the belly of the beast. Ani said nothing. He simply sat in the robotic chair, and let the machinery begin its work.

Amidala felt the effects of the changed air immediately as she heard it hissing through the vents. She felt slightly intoxicated within minutes, but also hyper-alert. The bright white of the walls seemed to glow out at her, and she could hear the ratcheting clicks of the machines as they worked around her. She kept her eyes on Ani to keep her focus.

A clamp descended from the roof to pull up his helmet, while two arms from the sides of the chair rose and undid a series of complex connections in the underworkings of the mask. He reached his own hand up to pull the the circuit-laden shell from his head.

The skin on his scalp was shockingly white, and marked with a network of thick, ropy scars. It looked like his skull had literally split open at some point.

A small robotic arm worked the breathing apparatus, and made more disconnections, and Ani finally pulled away the mask that covered his face.

The scars continued here, even more deeply offensive against a beauty Amidala could still see the shadows of, like a crystal vase glued together by a clumsy child. Tubes were permanently set into his neck at various points, and small microphones reached up from the neckpiece of the suit to rest near the corners of his mouth. But in that ruined face, under dark eyebrows that had been improbably preserved, like precious gems sinking in clay, Ani's eyes looked out at her, the same intense, gray-blue eyes that had watched her so lovingly in Watto's shop.

"Now," he said, "you have seen all."

She came forward to the chair, looked into those eyes, and smiled. Maybe it was too much oxygen, maybe it was her weariness, maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she was not repulsed by what she was seeing. All she could see was Ani, as he was last night, bone tired from working all day, falling asleep near his pod. Between that tired boy and this ruined man, the man who would be her husband hovered, and she understood that when the time came, she would be glad of it. She reached out and touched his face.

He flinched away, but couldn't go far, locked into the chair as he was. She drew her hand back instinctively, but made herself reach out again. This time, he did not avoid it. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, for all the world as if she were the adult and he still the tired child. "Thank you, Ani," she said. "Thank you for letting me know you."

For a long moment, he simply held her gaze. Then his eyes grew distant, and he moved her hand from his face. "You have seen nothing, Amidala. Nothing of who I am now. And you have been in this atmosphere too long for your health. Leave." He placed an emergency breather in his mouth, and opened the jaws of the chamber.

Amidala nodded, and left him to his privacy.

Go on to Part Three