Star Wars:
The Penitent

a round robin by
Jedi Skysong, FernWithy/JediGaladriel, Vee, and Belle Bayard
with Ariana Lang, JediCallie, Kithera, and Rhui Chatar

PART FOUR: JUDGMENT (DEFENSE)

Bezya stood beside the viewport, looking down on the flawed jewel that was now Naboo. She was interested in meeting Vader's wife. Her aunt, Rejuo, had intuited that he had once loved someone deeply -- "Bezya, darling, there are men who have known love and men who have not, and you learn to recognize the difference" -- and the nature of the woman who had loved him was a matter of some personal interest. Was she like Rejuo in some way? Was that why Vader had befriended her?

Bezya didn't think so, but she missed her aunt, so she hoped.

A tiny dot appeared above the atmosphere, and began to grow as it approached the lodging barge in orbit above Theed. Most of the witnesses who had stayed here were hostile, but in Bezya's case, she had simply arrived too late to politely shuttled down to the surface yesterday. Still on her own sleeping schedule -- which differed significantly from the times on Naboo -- she had wandered through the lounges and arcades, and heard the vitriol being aimed at Vader. He saved us! she wanted to scream. He saved my people, and if you knew anything, you'd know he saved us all in the end!

"That the shuttle?"

She turned to find a young human male. His hair was dark and thick, and he had pleasant brown eyes. She bowed slightly to him. "Are you shuttling to the surface for the trial?"

"Is anyone here for anything else?" He winked, then nervously put some kind of package into a pouch on his belt. "I'm Fineal Merlor, formerly of the Imperial Navy."

"Bezya, daughter of Hafda, of Ampinua."

"That's right next door to La'azum, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I beg you not to judge us by our neighbors. We traded with them, but never adopted their... fanaticism."

"I see."

Bezya winced. She hadn't meant to sound anti-human, or even anti-Ka'alya (though she did harbor a deep suspicion of the latter). But her experiences with La'azum had been so universally negative that she found it hard to speak of the world without bitterness. First, the pull-back on trade, which had left Ampinua's market open for the likes of Zokusa. Then the hands-off policy when Zokusa had arrived (she supposed, rationally, that they were still just gunshy from their own failed uprising, but, still, neighbors are neighbors, and they'd done nothing at all...). Then, of course, the final insult: Rejuo had died there, in the Imperial factory she'd been given charge of.

Bezya simply didn't like La'azum.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't mean to seem... "

"It's all right." He shrugged. "After living in the Empire, a little neighborly feud barely registers." His eyes narrowed. "You're not the Ampinuan woman that was... that they say Lord Vader... "

Bezya raised an eyebrow at him. She'd known that the old rumors would surface, but she'd hoped she wouldn't be deflecting them so soon. "The rumors were about my aunt," she said. "And unless the tale you heard was that she was an engineer whose career he helped for no reason other than her talent, you've heard wrong."

"Okay. Clean slate. You made one mistake, I made one mistake. Start over?"

"All right."

"Hi, I'm Fineal Merlor."

"Bezya."

But there was nothing to say after it. A pity. He was good-looking.

The shuttle arrived ten minutes later.

Fineal Merlor watched the surface draw nearer, dread damping down on his spirits. The Ampinuan woman was standing by the viewport again, almost drifting on her delicate toes. Fineal had never seen an Ampinuan up close before. They were a pretty species, but uncomfortably close to the size of human children. He knew the moment he saw Bezya that all the rumors he'd heard about Vader and Rejuo were wrong.

But the faces in his mind were not Rejuo's and Bezya's. As Naboo drew up to him, the faces he saw were Alderaanian. Princess Leia's face. The defense attorney who'd summoned him. All the others. For the first year after the Death Star, he'd blanked out the idea that there ever had been a planet called Alderaan. He'd glassed over if it was mentioned. If a survivor appeared on the holoproj (as happened occasionally), he would change the channel. If an artifact was found, he ignored it. The dreams began after six months, but he dismissed them as nightmares at first, albeit nightmares that woke him up with his pulse tripping along like a mountain stream.

At last, he could deny Alderaan no longer. After all, it was the reason he was AWOL, the reason he had to duck away from any Imperial patrol he saw, to avoid his old friends. Once he allowed himself to remember, it seemed to be everywhere. He'd collected scraps of information obsessively. And he had drawn the chip out, for the first time since he'd left the station with it. The chip he'd used to get permission to leave. To give the records into the hands of the Emperor, so he would know about the "unfortunate event."

The chip had saved his life, but he had left it in the bottom of his pack. Now, he took it out, watched it, watched it again.

It really happened.

He was both fascinated by and terrified of the surviving Alderaanians. If the destruction of their homeworld had changed his life so profoundly, what must it have done to them?

And now, summoned by Ivva Japui, to testify before Leia Organa herself. The young girl with large deep eyes, who had begged the Empire to show mercy. Begged Tarkin. Not Vader, but Tarkin.

Because even she knew that Vader couldn't have stopped it, short of killing everyone on the station.

The landing platform appeared on the plain, and grew to fill the viewport. There was a series of noises as the ship locked with the platform, then the whine of the door opening.

Bezya turned and smiled at him. "Come on, then. Let's get outside. It looks like good weather."

He returned her smile, but didn't really feel it. He stood on legs that felt like they were made of ice, and numbly made his way into the sunshine.

Ivva Japui was standing at the foot of the gangplank, her arms crossed against the breeze. "Kel Bezya, Lieutenant Merlor?"

Both of them nodded.

"Welcome to Naboo. I'm sorry things weren't running a bit more smoothly when you got to the lodging barge."

"It's all right," Bezya said. "I'm fine."

"And you, Leiutenant Merlor?"

"Fineal. Please. I deserted the Navy. I have no right to a rank. I mean, no liking of it. I... " His voice failed him.

She nodded, and he could imagine that she knew all his thoughts, looked into his face and saw her world exploding in his mind.

With an effort, he painted on a new expression. "Looks like a nice day down here," he said. "Guess maybe I better find a place to stay."

Kit had awoken the next morning, deeply troubled with his conversation with the prosecution. With Vali, he forced himself to remember. If he wasn't to become as guilty of dehumanizing as the Empire had been he had to remember names and faces. He hadn't slept well, though that wasn't really anything new since this whole thing. In fact, sometimes he felt like he hadn't had any decent rest for years.

Though he realized he'd ignored what Vali had said yesterday, he couldn't help dwelling on the fact she meant to see his friend pay in full for his transgressions. While Kit had no problem with Ani doing his penance, he did object to him being put in prison or a labor camp. It seemed such a waste of his talents... His generosity and strengths could be put to a much better use. Somehow it seemed almost as much a crime as what they charged Ani with that he be sequestered away to fade into obscurity. He should make the most of his potential through helping others overcome their problems.

Now, if he could only convince Ani not to go into such a thing without a fight. Kit believed Ivva would do her best, but given Han's testimony, he wondered just how she would salvage the whole mess. He sighed and watched Vertash and Kerea playing with the little one, the Alderaanian orphan he'd taken in since they'd arrived here.

"You seem troubled, Kit. Other than the obvious, what's wrong?" Amidala's soft voice intruded into his morose thoughts.

He turned with a wry smile. "Oh, that's about it, Your Majesty."

"Kit! After all this time... my title?" She took him by the arm and pulled off into a corner. "Out with it. What's bothering you?"

"I had a talk with Vali yesterday..."

"I see. And that's what's bothering you?"

Kit dipped his head. "Yes, in a way. I can't hate her. She's done a lot of good, but it bothers me that she's determined to call for Ani's blood and see him put away where he'll just rot."

Amidala's jaw clenched. "Indeed, I can understand your mood. Well, I won't let that happen, Kit. In this trial or the other."

He gave her a curious look, but she refused to answer his unspoken question. Instead, she turned to the scene he'd been viewing earlier.

"She's adorable. What's her name?"

"It's Pippa. She's Alderaanian. Came here with her aunt awhile back. The aunt got sick and died and that left the little one alone. I found her begging in the marketplace..."

"And couldn't stand to leave her like that, I take it. Alderaanian, hm? Does Leia know?"

Kit shook his head.

"Once this is over, you should talk to her."

Kit's face took on a drawn look and he refused to look at Amidala.

"What's really wrong, Kit? You seem so unlike yourself."

The younger man took a deep breath and seemed to control himself. "I'm lonely, Am. I've lost Dritali." To the Jedi... again... "And I've watched Vertash and Kerea... they're getting older and soon they leave as well. The little ones back on Tatooine... So many here have approached me to adopt them."

Amidala took his hand. "You need to find someone. Someone to ease your heart, Kit."

He remained quiet for a few moments. "No one would want this feckless creature from a backwater planet. I'm not good for much, Am." He forestalled her protest. "Oh, I'm good with children, but I have no real talent for much else." Ani's wife looked like she would like to hit him. He put up a hand to fend off her outrage. "I'm too old to look for someone that way."

"Kit, that is absolutely ridiculous. You are needed. You have great talent. And as for losing the children..." She paused, old pain crossing her face. "That's the way of the world. At least you've had them for years. You've nurtured them, watched them grow. Not everyone is that fortunate."

Like me. I had to abandon my children to keep them from the monster who took my husband.

"Kit Binai..."

Amidala and Kit turned as one to find Ivva in the door.

"Are you prepared to testify in the near future?" the defending attorney asked.

Kit swallowed and nodded.

"Good. Because it looks like Ani will need every friend he can get."

Without another word, the diminutive Alderaanian swept from the room, leaving Ani's childhood friend and beloved wife staring at each in consternation.

Master Luke had looked up when his sister came in for breakfast, and given Dritali a little smile. "Tali, would you go for a run? For about two hours?"

Dritali nodded. She'd heard, "Leia, there are some skills that you really need to learn," and seen the princess blush deeply, then she'd headed out into the golden morning. Nights here were dismal with rain, but mornings were just fine, sparkling with water and sunshine.

She ran south and skirted the city, choosing the broken, rocky path that had once been a city wall. The treacherous footing made her depend on the Force rather than her own athletic skills, one of the hardest adjustments she had to make to her new life. She was glad her body was in shape -- she'd never survive this if it weren't -- but exercise as a padawan wasn't about toning her muscles. It was about stretching her soul, and the rush of clean freedom it gave her almost made her dizzy.

She would have run into Anakin Skywalker if his presence weren't so strong. She rounded a corner and felt the wave of energy slam into her, stopping her, then she looked up and saw him atop a pile of stone blocks, deep in meditation. For a moment, the world flickered around her, seemed to become someplace else, a burning mountain...

It disappeared, and he looked up. "Dritali. I thought you would be at the Palace."

"Master Luke wanted to teach Leia something."

Ani smirked. "I don't doubt it. I couldn't imagine how to bring up the subject."

"Are you practicing for... " She motioned toward the city, which meant nothing, but they both knew she was referring to Isabel's trial.

"Yes. I grasped the essentials. But I need to learn to control it, to show what I choose to show, rather than just an onrush of emotion."

Dritali shrugged and sat down beside him. "So show me something. Just to practice."

"What would you like to see?"

"I'm not sure."

"Hmmm... " Ani took a deep breath and closed his eyes. As he breathed out, the light and colors of Naboo changed, the sky became blocked by a metal roof. The party lights flickered, and the music blared. The room was crowded, but most of the people in it wore the same non-descript face and all seemed to be gray. One or two stood out. A flurry of motion caught her eye, and she saw a small girl with long dark hair, wearing a bright red dress. The girl was making her way over...

"No, please," she said. "Not that night."

The vision disappeared. "I'm sorry, Dritali. I thought you might like to see how I first saw you. The only thing worth my attention in the place." He smiled. "I wish I had simply spoken to you."

"Me, too." She looked across the plain. "Maybe you could show me when you and Kit found Sanctuary."

"You really want to dig in the archives, don't you?" He laughed briefly. "All right. If you wish. It's been many years since I thought about my childhood in any meaningful way. It may be a bit... blurred."

But it wasn't. Naboo disappeared immediately, and Tatooine replaced it, bright colored and beautiful, the sky a vast and glorious blue vault. The suns burned down in a benevolent way, and the red rocks seemed to glow. This was Tatooine, either as Anakin Skywalker had seen it, or as he chose to remember it -- not as it was, but as it wanted to be seen.

Dritali knew the place they were in, too. She'd been in it many times. They were at the bend in the road that led to Sanctuary.

Two boys, both dusty, ran hellbent around the curve, and skidded to a stop when they saw what lay beyond. One was clearly Kit Binai, his large dark eyes too prominent to belong to anyone else. His hair fell in an untidy clump of bangs, and his clothes were a wreck, if a neatly worn wreck. The other was a blond boy with bright blue eyes, but Dritali might not have recognized him if she hadn't known who he was. Ani's own face seemed to be a shifting mask, his voice a strange and frightening modulation. "Rugged... "

"You need to fix this," she whispered to his adult self.

His more normal voice just said, "Hmmm." The young Anakin's face began to normalize, to find its planes and ridges. The mask still remained a shadow under it as he went on to tell Kit that the Hutt palace they'd just found could belong to him now.

"Ani, try." She glanced over at him.

He looked genuinely frustrated as he watched. "Everything else is as I saw it. It's not as if I haven't seen my own childhood face recently."

"Well, you didn't see yourself then, and now you're showing what you see looking back on yourself."

He smirked at her. "Where exactly did you learn to coach this, padawan?"

"Just a guess. Look at yourself like you really were."

She turned again to the Ani in the vision, and she could see the shadow shifting and trying to fade. Then, abruptly, everything did.

Looking again over broken Theed, Dritali leapt to her feet. She'd felt something shift in the Force, but she couldn't identify it. "What is it?"

Ani looked around himself, thought. "Tashin," he said. "It's Tashin. Isabel is upset."

Dritali matched him stride for stride back to the Palace, taking the back route that Ani used to get past the press and the crowds. They didn't stop anywhere before the Infirmary.

Amidala and Kit were already there, and Luke was holding Isabel on one hip. Isabel was reaching out with both hands, and a vast power was flowing out of her and into her father. Tashin himself was barely holding on, even with all of Isabel's power trained on him.

"What happened?"

Amidala looked over her shoulder. "I don't know. The alarm went off ten minutes ago. His respirator was getting too much oxygen back."

"He's not processing his air."

"Right."

Ani went to Isabel. "Can you hear me?"

She gave him an irritated glare. "I'm right here."

"Are you?"

"As much as I need to be to hear you."

"Isabel, you can't keep this up indefinitely."

"He's not going to die. I won't let him."

Ani reached out his arms and took her from Luke. "Listen to me, Isabel. There's a facility on Coruscant that deals with respiratory failure. I had to go there frequently at first. They have the technology to stabilize him if you can hold him for the length of the trip. Can you do that?"

"Y-yes... "

"Good. Luke, tell Han to get a medical transport -- "

"No," Isabel said. "The Falcon. I can hold him, but it's important to get him there fast."

"The Falcon," Ani agreed. "Tell him Isabel needs to get her father to Coruscant at the top possible speed."

Directions were given, and Dritali faded back into the shadows. It wasn't the time to ask it, to ask...

But what were they supposed to do without Isabel to keep the Dead in line?

They saw Isabel and Tashin off on the Falcon, Han piloting with Chewie beside as usual. Leia looked a bit wistful as they left, but resigned as well. She'd taken to heart what Luke had taught of shielding her strongest emotions. Her thoughts she had no problem with, but feelings... those were another matter. Even long ago, on the Death Star, as she'd watched the place she called home blown to so much space debris she couldn't hide her horror and grief from Vader... her father. Positive emotions such as her love and desire for Han hadn't been any easier. At least now she had something to work with.

The small group turned back to enter the palace, an empty place apparent where Isabel had stood. Leia couldn't help but wonder how that other trial would go without the child's presence. She sighed and moved into the spacious hallway and returned to the dining area. Luke's lesson had kept them from breakfast and her stomach growled.

Kit had brought his children to eat and Leia watched him hover over Vertash and Dritali as they settled the little orphan they'd recently found. She frowned and tried to remember if she'd ever asked the child's name. No, but she would rectify that right now.

"Good morning," she greeted them.

"Morning," Kit returned, his smile a bit tight.

"Isabel's gone to Coruscant with her father. He's taken a turn for the worse and Father's suggested they go there to a specialty center for respiratory ailments." She stopped herself from grimacing at her babble. Taking a grip on her emotions, she forced a calm demeanor she didn't feel inside. "And who is this?"

She knelt beside the small girl, extending her hand with a smile. The child grinned back at her, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I'm Pippa. Mama and Papa left me with Aunt Veli on Corellia when I was just a baby. She told me they had to go back to Alderaan and they were there when... when it went away."

Pippa didn't seem to really understand the losses she'd suffered, but Leia realized Alderaan was merely a name to her. The child continued with only a pause. "Last year she brought me here 'cause she'd heard the last Alderaanian Princess was coming to see the bad man who did it got what he deserved. She got sick and died, but then Kit found me. He told me about the judge being the princess. Are you her?"

The innocent question coupled with her description of Father threw Leia off balance. What could she say? That he hadn't been responsible for it. That he'd only stood by and not stopped Tarkin from destroying the peaceful planet and those who lived there... including her foster father, Bail Organa, who had fought beside Anakin Skywalker during the Clone Wars.

Unbidden, tears stung her eyes and she looked away. A tiny warm hand gripped her own. She heard the others whisper to Pippa and struggled to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I didn't know he's your Papa."

Leia looked up into the now serious child's eyes. "You couldn't have. Believe me, Pippa. This isn't easy for me in any role. I love my Father, but I must see justice done."

The child, who surely could be no more than a year or two older than Isabel if that, patted her hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's okay. I understand now." She bent closer and whispered so only Leia heard her words. "Any time you want somebody to talk to who won't say nothing to nobody... just come for me."

The last Alderaanian Princess, descendent of a Naboo Queen and a Jedi warrior stared into the child's dark eyes and remembered. Remembered her own childhood and making an offer very similar to a person others considered a terrifying embodiment of the Empire's stranglehold on the galaxy.

"Thank you, Pippa," she whispered back and a sudden determination overcame her. When Han got back, she would approach him about adopting this child. If they ever had their own, she would merely be the first... the child of her heart, if not her body.

Kit watched Leia with his newest rescue and with a sinking heart, realized he would lose Pippa once things resolved with Ani's trial. He fought the desolation that threatened him, repeating to himself the mantra that it would be better for the little ones to have real families. It had very limited success. He found Leia's penetrating gaze on him and managed a ghost of his wry smile.

"So, Your Highness, when's the trial due to start again?" Vertash asked, his voice suddenly breaking on the last word.

Leia turned to answer him, allowing Kit to relax. Somehow, Leia's perusal could be just as disconcerting as Ani's had proven. Amidala's dark eyes and regal air, but her father's intensity and strength of will... what a combination. This time his smile held true humor.

He failed to hear Leia's answer to Tash's query, but he didn't really mind. He'd find out soon enough. Instead, he took the respite of being off the hot seat to study his two teen-aged charges. Kerea had chosen to wear something soft and clingy in a pale blue. Something that emphasized how much she'd grown in the last year. If he stood apart, as if an outsider, he could she had already made the transition toward adult life that spelled his nearing the end of his guardianship of her and Tash.

That young man's voice had begun to change and he'd shot up at least six inches in the past few months. Kit couldn't dismiss the bond between Tash and Kerea, one he recognized promised to be as strong as the one between Amidala and Anakin. Still, that very recognition brought home his own lonely state.

He glanced over at Ani and Amidala, heads together as they discussed something. His heart ached, with regret that they'd been parted so long and that Ani's fate hung in the balance and that he, Kit Binai, would never know such a bond. All he could do was pray that somehow Ivva could find some way to prevent Ani from meeting an awful fate. Few were given a second chance as he had been and it didn't seem fair to waste it.

Amidala touched Ani's hand then left, and Kit could only wonder where she would go so early. The morning had barely begun. Kit's stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten yet. The food sat cooling on the plates and looked less than appetizing.

"Come on. Either we need to eat or give this to the beggars," he called, bringing shocked looks his way. "Heh... that got your attention. Better put this back in the warmer or we'll all have lumps in our stomachs."

As the others scrambled to get their food rewarmed, Ani came over to him, concern written on his face. "Kit, I know you're troubled. Amidala hinted something of it and I've sensed you're... lonely. Is there anything I can do?"

Kit snorted in disbelief. "Now, just exactly what are you going to do for me to make me any less... whatever I am?"

Ani grinned. "I could introduce you to Ivva on a social basis."

A moment of stunned silence passed, sounds of the dining room around them as if they were on an island alone.

"Are you serious?"

"Completely."

"Give me some time to think about this. One thing at a time." Kit's hands raked through his curls, leaving them standing out at all angles. "Right now I just want to make sure you don't end up rotting someplace like the Kessel spice mines."

His friend shrugged. "Don't say I didn't offer. It'll stay open any time you make up your mind."

Amidala retreated to the hot springs, her breakfast wrapped in a cloth to keep it warm. She'd told Ani about Kit's situation, then made her escape. With everything that had happened this morning she felt off balance. Little things kept niggling at her and now that Isabel and Tashin had left, she couldn't help wondering if they would continue. Like making it to Ivva's place in less time and without so much as breaking a sweat.

She shrugged and sat on the bench beside the pool to eat before she bathed. The curls of steam rising in the cool morning air beckoned her, but her stomach's protest insisted she break her fast first. Once finished, she wiped her hands and mouth with the cloth and began to disrobe. No one came here any longer. No one except Ani occasionally and she'd gotten the distinct impression he'd be busy with Kit for awhile.

Her clothes slid off easily and from force of habit, she folded them neatly to stack them on the bench. Tucked in one pocket of her over tunic, she'd brought along a scented moisturizing soap and a washcloth. The towel had hung over her belt and that she placed on the rocks beside the pool's entrance beside the soap.

The warmth spread from her feet to the crown of her head as she moved slowly into the water, enjoying the sensation of it as it enclosed her body. For a few moments she allowed herself to merely float on the surface, then she stood up and took her hair down. The drain on one side of the pool provided a way for any soap or dirt to be filtered and the water recycled and she moved toward it. With the length of her hair, she needed a fair amount of soap and usually, someone to help her. She squelched a fleeting wish that Ani were here to do just that... and more.

Behave yourself, Amidala. You know very well things would most likely progress far beyond what either you or the Jedi feel are proper.

She shook her head, then proceeded with her shampoo and bath. As she washed her body, she studied her skin. The years had treated her fairly kindly, but she still remembered the tiny lines of age at her wrist and the slight sag of her breasts and belly (after all she had given birth to twins). Now, as she rubbed the soap into lather she noted with a shock the creases at her wrist had disappeared, her breasts and belly seemed firmer. Determined, she rinsed off completely and moved toward a patch of morning sun that shone on the pool's surface. The bright light didn't lie. Gone were the lines, the skin of her arms and body taut and toned as it had been in her younger years. A strange feeling passed through her. Isabel. Once again she remembered the day she'd been examining the disappearing white in her hair and the young girl's odd look and words. Had Isabel done something to her?

She shook off the mood, then it returned full force. Over the last month she had begun having cramps... cramps she'd not had for at least two years and this morning she'd felt as though once again she'd have proof that her body had prepared for a child. Her hands shook as she made her way back to the pool's side. Quickly, she toweled off, dressed and hurried back to her rooms. Somehow she managed to avoid anyone and once in her sanctuary, she pushed the mirror over to the window.

In the harsh light, Amidala continued to go over her face inch by inch. No lines, no sagging skin beneath her chin, the only white in her hair about two inches from the new growth... the new dark growth. She turned to the side, pushing aside her tunics to scrutinize her body. Yes, most definitely, her breasts and belly had tightened and smoothed without evidence of age or childbearing. By the ancient gods of Naboo, just what was happening to her? She gnawed her lower lip, heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. The import of these revelations crashed into her and left her trembling and determined not to tell Ani or anyone else of her discoveries.

"I haven't had much daylight free for awhile," Ani said, picking his way down the ruined wall behind the Palace. Kit hadn't spent much time in Theed before, but he guessed it had once ringed yet another garden. "I admit, I've come to miss the suns on Tatooine. I love Naboo, but... "

"Tatooine is home. I know. You're welcome to come visit with us for awhile, you know."

"I think Vali might have something to say about that."

"It's not fair."

"Fair?" Ani laughed and grimaced simultaneously. "No, it's more than fair. What I paid when I came back -- it was a fair toll for that road."

"But you already paid it."

"Then took it back." He sighed, and started walking again. "I know where you stand, Kit. I know where everyone stands. Except me. I thought I knew, but... " He made a strange sound of disgust, clicking through his teeth. "I find I want to live. And be free. But I cannot seem to find the justice in it. I am, after all, quite guilty of the crimes with which I am charged."

Kit wondered if he'd told anyone else that he wanted to live. It seemed somehow unlikely -- he was ashamed of wanting to live. "Ivva asked me to testify."

Ani stopped walking and shook his head. "What in the name of the Maker are you supposed to testify about? That I know how to build a podracer?"

"She didn't tell me. But there is the matter of the trust fund."

"I threw a lot of credits around, once they started piling up."

"We both know this wasn't thrown money, Ani."

"And you know this because I checked on your use of it so often? Or perhaps because it came with moral instructions?"

"I know it because it came from neither, and because its origins were blocked. You didn't give the money for show. But I never had the slightest doubt who it came from."

Ani gazed at him impassively, then turned away. "When did you know I was Vader?"

"For sure? When Dritali came with your mother's bracelet. Why didn't you just call ahead?"

To Kit's surprise, Ani laughed. "I suppose it was a bit obvious. I just wanted to make sure you took her in."

"Knowing how unlikely I was to take in a battered and homeless ten year old girl without an unimpeachable reference from Darth Vader."

"Is it safe to assume you have a working theory about this?"

"It's obvious. You were starting to want to tell someone. I don't know what got you started -- that was before the Death Star and Luke -- but something set you off. What was it?"

Ani sat down on a broken rock and looked out across the plain. The Alderaanian vegetation wasn't taking well in this section. "It's like home," he said. "Empty. Like it's waiting for something."

"You don't want to answer?"

"I don't know. I'd had... a rather severe disagreement with Leia, and I'd lost a friend. A woman named Rejuo."

"I've heard something about her."

"Don't believe what you heard."

"I didn't. But I guessed she was your friend."

He looked at his feet. "There are many reasons not to believe it. But chief among them was that I was always Amidala's husband, even when I believed her dead."

Kit understood abruptly why Anakin had been so obsessed with finding his children. There could never have been more of them. It was an awkward thing to know, and he coughed into his hand, trying to think of something else to say. "Anyway," he came up with after awhile, "the bracelet was just a confirmation. I'd suspected for some time."

"On what grounds?"

"Well, I'd traced the trust fund -- it wasn't very hard, just a few simple pathways -- and I knew it came from Vader. Which puzzled me, since I'd never heard the name before. I thought maybe this Vader person had been responsible for the death of one of the children's parents. I wanted to know before I took the money. I'm no saint, but I'm also not easy to manipulate with money. We can make do."

"I know that."

"So I found out what was available. It wasn't much. It was obvious that Vader wasn't an original name, and that his history was hidden. After that, it was just a question of figuring out who was most likely to be hiding behind there. I thought you were dead, so it took me awhile. But I kept circling back to you -- he appeared when you died, he was obviously trained as a Jedi."

"Unassailable evidence."

"That's why I just suspected. I was almost sure when Obi-Wan came to me."

"Obi-Wan!" At this, Ani looked truly surprised. "What did Obi-Wan go to you for?"

"I... well, he occasionally helped escaped Rebels integrate into Tatooine society. Sometimes -- with the less dangerous ones -- he sent them to Sanctuary for awhile."

"Astounding. I never suspected."

"At any rate, I asked him about Vader. And there was just a flash, just a second... but it was there. The name meant something to him. He told me that no one knew much, and then he wouldn't say any more. After that, I was pretty sure."

Ani just shook his head. "Vali will jump on the fact that you used that trust fund only four times, despite having an inkling of who it came from. She'll suggest that you didn't want to use it often because it was morally tainted."

"As long as it's just us, she'll be right. But I did use it. It wasn't something I rejected entirely. Our gardens were destroyed in a sandstorm one year, and I used it to buy food. Twice, I used it to send children on to higher education. And the fourth time, I bought Kerea."

"Bought her?" Ani looked at him, blinking in the slow way that Kit knew well was a prelude to one of his true tempers. "You used it to buy a slave?"

"Would you have preferred me to leave her in the cage? Or get Dritali and Vertash killed trying to break her out?"

He sighed. "I suppose I see your point. Was that when you called? To report the slave market?"

"That was when I called. As soon as Kerea's implant was deactivated. Your people tried to shrug me off."

"A lot of people tried to reach me. My people were there to shrug them off. I'm glad you got through."

"What happened to the slavers?"

"Nothing that will look good on the witness stand. I located them on Nal Hutta, sent in a platoon, and had them all executed. No more trial than the rebels on La'azum. The slaves were freed, though I believe some may have been conscripted into the Navy."

"I doubt the Wookiee was."

"If you're trying to get me to say they were enslaved by the Empire, the truth is, I don't know. I told myself that the workers in the mines on Kessel were prisoners -- criminals, not slaves. Of the other slavery that occurred -- and I'm sure now that there was some -- I knew nothing, because I closed my eyes to it, and Palpatine would not have been eager to have me open them."

"Ani, why in the Maker's name would I be trying to get you to say something like that? There are things I don't understand about what you did, but I have no interest in helping you with your neverending self-flagellation."

Neither of them said anything to that. Ani turned his head again, and looked out over the plain. Kit sighed. He was slipping back to where he'd been. He'd hoped that the talk of home, the admission that he wanted to live... that those things would bring a change. And maybe they would, eventually. Admitting that he wanted to live was a big step, though no one who knew him would be surprised by it -- Anakin Skywalker loved being alive, and always had. Why else would he have fought so hard to find some kind of life after being nearly cremated alive?.

"We should go back," he said. "You being out in the open is asking for some reporter to find you. Besides, I believe you promised me a proper introduction."

Ani smiled, all traces of his morose mood disappearing. "I did, didn't I? Well, come on, then. I think you two will get along fine."

The morning was eventful, but as the day passed into afternoon, things quieted. Kit called Tatooine, to check with Gilesa at Sanctuary -- she reported that everything was well, though she was at a loss for the story that one of the little ones was demanding. She described it to Kit, and he gave her the right tale, and she promised to tell it.

Amidala took advantage of the break in the trial to take in audiences as queen, a role in which she had to admit she'd been somewhat derelict of late. Since the throne room was set up for the trial, she held court in the Alderaanian museum. To her relief, no one had a thorny problem, and many of the meetings were happy affairs -- applications for trade visas, young couples seeking royal blessings for their marriages, a baby brought before her for a formal presentation. She'd nearly forgotten the last tradition, but apparently, some of the Naboo had really been reading up on their history, and the young father in question had chosen to, as he put it, "Introduce my son to the great wonders of our world." Amidala had held the child, and it had felt wonderful.

Anakin arranged lunch with Kit and Ivva. She was flattered, but reminded them both that her social life would be in abeyance until the trial was over. "It would hardly be proper for me to be seen all over town with my most handsome witness before he testified." She'd winked.

After Han left with Isabel, Leia diligently practiced her mind-shielding.

Luke and Dritali studied a historical text she'd managed to salvage and piece together from the destroyed library of the Jedi Temple. Luke was torn between wanting to ask his father what he knew about any texts that might still be extant, and not wanting to bring up that horrible era at all. The latter instinct won out, but it was close match.

Vertash and Kerea took Pippa to the marketplace, and Kerea bought a new dress.

Vali Umbuimi spent all day in her hotel room, enjoying the colorful displays of the river fish and watching a very bad romance on the holoproj. She enjoyed the latter greatly.

Bezya settled in to her room in the Palace, and Fineal Merlor stood guiltily on the edge of a group of Alderaanians in the square, listening to their soft-spoken leader call for the destruction of all that remained of the Empire.

Of all those who surrounded the Skywalker family, only Lando Calrissian, Prince of Theed, and Jelon Laryhi, Astaya of the Ka'alyan, had anything approaching an eventful day. The Dead-Talkers who had put themselves into exile around the city, for no reason Lando could see, began a campaign of petty vandalism. He didn't catch any of them, but much of his afternoon was spent washing away the red paint splashed on the outer wall of Theed. Laryhi joined him without saying anything. He looked somberly at the damage, and finally excused himself at sunset.

Had either of them shared this information with the others, the call of the Dead might not have come as such a surprise. But neither shared it.

Amidala was cleaning off her makeup when the call came. Instead of the gentle but insistent pull she'd felt over the past several nights, this call seemed to be driven into her mind like a knife through her ear. Her hands flew to her head, and she grasped at her hair until the pain subsided. When it had dulled enough for her to move without swaying, she made her way out to the garden.

Ani, Luke, and Dritali were there already. Dritali was clearly in pain; Luke and Ani wore expressions of strained acceptance. Yoda, Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan were lost in a sea of the Dead.

A tendril of mist reached out curled around her wrist. Before she knew what was happening, she was hurled against Ani. He raised his hand toward the Dead.

"Anakin, no!" Qui-Gon's voice rose above the fray, but only for a moment.

The swirling mists of the Dead began to coalesce, and Nizy Lummuo appeared, her face triumphant. "Keysha'li can't protect you now, murderer. You will face our justice."

A glimmering form appeared before Amidala. Yoda. He raised his gimer stick, his face cool and calm. The Dead withdrew to a distance of a few meters, as if a circle were drawn around the family, but they did not disappear, nor did the catcalls stop.

"Master Yoda... " Luke said.

"Control them, I can, but Keysha'li's methods are not mine. Control them and convince them to cooperate in Keysha'li's trial, I cannot."

"I can."

They turned. Behind them, the Dead parted grudgingly, and the Astaya came into the circle. He was dressed in ceremonial robes, and carried a violet jewel between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. He held it just above his head. He addressed Nizy Lummuo directly. "You are Ka'alya."

"You are Korkantu," she spat.

Jelon Laryhi was unfazed. "I do not come to you to ask you to accept my authority as Astaya. But you lived on La'azum all your life, Nizy, and you know that there are ways to control what you propose to do here."

"Do you believe you can threaten me, Astaya?"

Jelon raised the jewel higher. He spoke softly. "Olashya," he said, "your time has come."

Ani understood first, and tried to grab the jewel away from him, but it was too late. A great wind rose up in the courtyard, and a dark shape appeared in the midst of the dead. It was female -- Amidala could see that -- but other than that, all she could see was blackness against the gray. The Dead screamed. Red light split the mists, in a pattern of bars that separated the Dead from the living. The shadow remained silent.

"Accept her help, we will not," Yoda said. "This power, we have, and chose not to use. This method is... "

"Not your own," Jelon said. "I know. And I hope she knows what she's doing." He sighed, and turned back to Nizy. "There are other controls," he said again. "Do you wish her to remain among you, or will you abide by the terms you agreed to from Keysha'li?"

"It's so cold... "

"Nizy, will you exert control, or will you give it to Olashya?"

Nizy's eyes burned and swirled. "Yes. I will abide."

Jelon looked to the shadow. "Mother Zemai, she will abide."

The voice that returned was, to Amidala's surprise, high and soft. "As will I, my son," it said. "And I will be watching."

The bars and the shadow disappeared. Jelon Laryhi remained.

"She shouldn't be here," Obi-Wan said, when things had calmed.

"Keysha'li summoned her first."

Qui-Gon's image raised an eyebrow. "She neglected to share that information with us."

Jelon grinned. "She probably had a pretty good guess how you'd react. But it's fair. This is the trial of a Sith. Maybe another one should be around. Mother Zemai knows. Her memory goes far back."

"As mine does," Yoda said. "Many years, it goes back. Nearly to the time of Olashya M'Traet. Spoken, her name still was, when I was a child in the Temple."

"Then you know she did much in defense of the Jedi."

"Defense of such nature, we did not need or want. Nor do we now."

"To the contrary, it's clear that you need it now, even if you don't want it. Keysha'li's power was her own, and is not duplicated perfectly even among those strong in other ways. Let Olashya serve as Keysha'li's sword."

Understanding dawned in Yoda's eyes. "Redemption, she seeks."

"Yes."

"Achieve it in this manner, she cannot. But... " He looked at Luke. "Learned something from my last apprentice, I have. Stay, she may. But she must not use Darkness for control. Other strengths, she had as a child, as Anakin did. Those strengths, she must use."

There was silence, but Amidala thought she felt that other presence again, distant... and agreeing.

"Well," Qui-Gon said, "since we now have the issue under some sort of control, perhaps we should begin again."

"Begin?" Nizy said, turning to Qui-Gon. "Where would you have us begin? Perhaps with you?"

The world shifted, and -- with a sinking heart -- Anakin recognized the Council Room in the Temple. The Dead might be led by the Ka'alyan, but they had access to other things. He saw himself, but more clearly, he saw Qui-Gon, defending him while all the other Masters refused him.

"Is this where we begin?" Nizy mocked. "With your hubris letting this monster loose on the galaxy?"

"Leave him alone," Anakin said. "He was kind to a child who grew up badly. That does not reflect on him. Let it be."

The Council Room disappeared. Whether it was because Nizy was listening or because Olashya was holding her back, Anakin didn't know.

"And the Jedi?" Nizy said. "Perhaps they have something they would like to show us now?"

"Seek vengeance, we do not," Yoda said. "Merely want Anakin to return, we do, and put the balance of life and death in its proper place."

An old image came into Anakin's mind, a nightmare he'd had as a teenager, as the "Chosen One" prophecies had been bandied more and more often -- in it, he had dreamed that a giant scale rested on his shoulders, and was pressing him down into a hard rock.

"Ani!"

Amidala's voice pulled him out, and the shadow of the scale disappeared above him. That wouldn't do at all.

Nizy's voice was mocking again. "Oh, yes. The poor chosen one. All that responsibility. And he lived up to it so well!"

The wind blew across the courtyard, and a curtain of ghostly rain that left cold -- but dry -- trails across his face. Nizy now appeared with her rebels, crossing the plain. They huddled around her. "The Empire is following!"

A volley of blaster shots came from behind, from the troops that had tracked her out.

"We'll be killed!" a woman screamed.

"Murdered!"

"Vader will burn us alive!"

At the last, Anakin's mind quite suddenly asserted itself. I never burned anyone. Not deliberately. They had no reason to believe that.

(Yes, but your stormtroopers did. Remember Owen and Beru, if you remember nothing else. Those who loved your son when you could not.)

I didn't order that. More important, I didn't want that.

"We have to go to Ihivizi!" Nizy told them. "It can hold us. We can live from the mountain. They won't destroy the shrine!"

The scene shifted again, to the bloody cave. Beyond the entrance, he could see Imperial troops. Within, he could hear the cries of the dying. There was still a group alive. A small group. Women and children.

"We can make it out, Nizy," one of the women said. "We can surrender."

Then one of the children screamed. Anakin looked up, and was unsurprised to see the descent of a shuttle. His shuttle. No one else was going back and forth from the orbiting fleet, and the besieged Ka'alyan knew it.

"Really?" Nizy asked. "Is that what you really want to do?"

"Stop this immediately!" Amidala said. Her voice was not that of a frantic and outraged wife. It was the tone she had used on the Senate floor... or with Qui-Gon, during those first days, when she'd decided he'd usurped just a bit too much of her authority. "This is blatant manipulation, and the only thing it shows clearly is that you had made these people so afraid that they killed themselves at the approach of a shuttle."

"Who are we manipulating?" Nizy asked, her voice a thin mask of innocence. "You, Your Majesty? Are you thinking about things you'd rather not think about when you're naked in the springs?"

Amidala blanched, but she did not respond to Nizy's taunt. "The judge, Nizy. Whoever is judging this charade."

Anakin was still trying to fight his own rising temper, and didn't dare say anything. No one spoke to Amidala in such a vulgar way. No one.

You spoke when she attacked Qui-Gon. There is no evil in defending those you love against slander.

"Nizy," Anakin said, getting his voice under control, "you seem to be straying from the subject rather frequently. Have you said all you mean to say?"

"Not even close!" She started to come forward, her strange eyes swirling, but she was stopped by a sudden wall of shadow.

Olashya's high voice whispered into the night. "You are overstepping your bounds. I will not tolerate it."

Nizy's face contorted in fear and bravado. "You! The only strengths you're allowed to use are the ones you wielded when you were a child."

"I could give up my own redemption, Nizy. If that's what it takes to keep you where you belong." No answer. "But I think I won't have to." A strand of light appeared in the fog, weak and shimmering, and reached through the form that Nizy was showing.

Anakin traced it back; it was emerging from the shadow that was Olashya, but now, she was beginning to take shape. Anakin could make out the ends of long, light hair, the squarish chin that appeared under the shadows of her hood. Other strands began to make their way out from her, braiding their way among the Dead, until all were connected to her.

Nizy laughed. "If we reach oblivion, Olashya, then you will go with us now."

"If that is my destiny. But it is my son Anakin's that you discuss here tonight."

"Your son," Nizy spat. Her form was becoming disorganized, shifting through its years.

"They were all my sons, my daughters. Now, will you say more, Nizy Lummuo, or have you exhausted your supply of accusations already?"

A heavy silence fell, then Nizy pulled her image back together, and stood tall. "We of La'azum have showed the crimes he committed against us, but we are not the only ones who wander. The supply of accusations, as you put it, Sith, has barely been touched."

"I did what I felt I must, Lord Vader, and for that you took my life. I answered you truthfully, yet you crushed my throat as if I were no more than an annoyance."

The garden shifted into the bridge of the ambassadorial ship Leia had used to flee with the stolen information she had obtained for the Rebellion. Once again, Vader cornered Captain Antilles demanding to know the whereabouts of the battle station's plans. When the Captain continued to assert they were on a diplomatic mission, Vader's grip on his throat tightened in frustration until the sickening crunch of cartilage prevented any further answer and the world faded into red and then black.

"The Princess did not make me privy to her mission, only that we were to make all haste to Tatooine. As an ambassadorial ship, we frequently had urgent duties to perform and had no need to know more than the destination. Perhaps she felt it wiser to keep the crew unaware of what she carried, but we all were willing to die for her."

Other shades, all dressed similarly to the Captain moved closer, their eyes filled not so much with anger as determination, clustered around him. Anakin forced himself to look into each one's face, remembering the scattered bodies he had strode over in his search for Leia and the plans. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on that time.

Once again, what the others saw changed into the past... Aboard his Star Destroyer he paced, awaiting word they had caught the cruiser in the tractor beam.

I must retrieve the plans before my Master sends others else all will be lost. Leia... Why have you taken this course? Now, when I am even more powerless than before.

He ordered the stormtroopers to find her at all costs, giving them leeway to take prisoners and especially to capture her unhurt. He strode toward the smaller vessel's bridge, the smoke and odor of ozone so strong it even penetrated the filters of his mask. The Princess remained elusive and the sensation of impotent rage grew as the Captain continued to plead ignorance until Vader's cybernetic hand clenched in anger around the man's vulnerable throat. The crunch made him feel both horrified and disgusted with himself. But he could never let his men know this and he flung the corpse against the wall in rage, both at his thoughtless action and the consequences of the whole situation.

The scene melted into a cold stark room where Tarkin confronted Vader...

"The Emperor has given me authority over all on this station, Lord Vader and as such I order you to find those plans no matter who is responsible for their theft. Reports place Senator Organa from Alderaan in a position to receive them. Therefore, you will determine her whereabouts and secure both them and her, if necessary. I leave what you do with her to your discretion, but if you fail..." Tarkin's cold grey eyes studied him for a moment. "I'm certain the Emperor would be most displeased in that case. If you are unable to capture the plans I will be forced to take matters into my own hands. Things will become entirely unpleasant for the Princess and her home world should that become necessary."

Vader's teeth clenched beneath the mask, his anger simmering as he bowed to the man he considered even more cold-blooded and ruthless than himself as well as a less than stellar strategist. While the Sith Lord detested much of the giant technology his Master seemed to favor, he knew he must do as Tarkin bid or things would escalate beyond even what Vader could sanction. Once he had Leia under his control, he would force her to divulge not only where she had secreted the plans, but also the location of the hidden Rebel base.

Things had not progressed well and with the death of Captain Antilles, the picture grew grimmer. Then, when he feared his efforts had failed, one of the squadrons had come across Leia. After she blasted the Corporal in charge in the chest on full power they had stunned her, but Vader sensed no permanent damage to his valuable hostage. He sent troops to the surface to hunt for the escape pod he felt certain she had jettisoned with the plans onboard. Somehow, he couldn't return there again. His last visit to Tatooine had been when he had dropped Dritali off at Sanctuary and this time he could not bring himself to join in a search which might bring him in contact with those he would rather avoid altogether...

I will not think of Obi-Wan. I will not... He is dead to me... As dead as my mother...

Anakin forced his thoughts away from their track and back toward the Death Star...

He'd gone to Leia in her prison cell, prepared to discuss the location of her hidden Rebel base. She'd resisted as though someone had built walls around her mind. Despite the drugs, despite the mind probe, she would not reveal anything. He'd almost pleaded with her, fearing what Tarkin might do if she continued in her obstinacy. His fears came to pass when Tarkin demanded Vader bring her to him.

Tarkin had tried bullying her into giving him the information Vader had failed to elicit... When it appeared Leia had buckled, Tarkin gave the order to test the battle station on a closer target than the remote planet she had named. The Grand Moff hadn't kept him apprised of the fact he'd set course for Alderaan and Vader felt a certain numbness when he realized just exactly what the snake intended. Yet he hadn't stopped him.

No! Alderaan is peaceful! We have no weapons!

She'd seemed ready to attack Tarkin and Vader had pulled her back against him, holding her firmly... as much to keep her back from the Moff as to support her. Terrible pain nearly split his skull as Alderaan exploded; killing billions, killing the man who had fought beside him in his other incarnation. His hand tightened on Leia's shoulder and he felt certain she would bear the bruises of his fingers on her skin. He could only hope the pain would at least take her mind off the greater pain of loss. She refused to speak as he returned her to her cell to await execution.

The cell trembled as Anakin's concentration shattered and once again the courtyard appeared. Tears streamed down his cheeks unheeded.

"I beg forgiveness from those whose life I took aboard my daughter's ship. For the lives on Alderaan... Those I have no idea how I can atone for them--" His voice broke and he scrubbed a sleeve across his face. He dipped his head to the Rebel's shades who retreated, allowing another uniformed shape to step forward, this time wearing Imperial gray.

"Needa..."

"My Lord," the young ghost replied with a military salute.

How ironic that even in death, an untimely one caused by none other than the one the young officer stood before, protocol remained. Anakin opened his mouth to apologize, but Needa forestalled him.

"Lord Vader, I always believed you an honorable man, no matter what others said. I believed in you, believed that though I had made a tactical error you would understand and give me another chance." He paused. "I made a fatal error. Why Lord Vader? Why did you take my life when I had devoted mine to your cause?"

Anakin forced himself not to drop to his knees to beg Needa's forgiveness. Instead, he extended his hand to the incorporeal being. "I have no excuse. Those who knew me... Piett... He sensed I had begun to lose myself..." He gave a grimace. "Or perhaps it might be better said my true self had begun to fight with Vader and Vader resisted. A weak reason, but the best I can manage. Perhaps, if both the Dead and Living allow, I can do something for those you left behind."

Needa glanced over at Amidala. "What would you have had done for your own wife if she were in Hillo's place?"

"Provided for her comfort and support for the rest of her life. But that would not replace her husband as I cannot return you to her." Ani sighed. "I truly regret your death, Captain Needa and am uncertain how I can right the wrong I did to you."

To his surprise, Needa drew closer. "To me, that alone gives my soul some ease, Lord Vader."

Anakin shuddered at the name, but didn't withdraw from the intense cold the spirit exuded. "Please, in this incarnation, I am Anakin Skywalker."

Needa's ghost gave a slight smile. "In my world you are and always will be Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, but if this will give you a bit of comfort I will address you as you wish. See to my wife, Anakin Skywalker. More than just her monetary state. Show her what happened. No lies. Give her the truth and the reasons behind my death and then make certain she has nothing to want for. Then I can truly rest and consider your debt to me canceled."

With that, the young Imperial's shape began to dissipate into the mist. Somehow Anakin doubted he would find any of the other dead either as understanding or accommodating as the man he'd robbed of life unjustly.

Luke stood quietly to one side, the horror running through him as surely as it had on Dagobah when he faced Vader in the vision. Then he hadn't understood the significance of seeing his own face under Vader's mask after striking him down. Now he knew the danger every Force user faced and seeing those his father had either been directly or indirectly responsible for killing gave him the willies.

He glanced over at the palace windows and caught Leia at one, staring out at them as they stood there, and wondered how much she had seen. If she'd witnessed the whole thing on her ship and the Death Star. A stray thought of hers sneaked into his mind.

I wonder if Wedge ever knew how his cousin died?

That brought Luke up short. He'd never known about what had happened on her ship, not really, and certainly had never known Wedge's cousin had been her pilot. Perhaps that explained why Leia always treated Wedge kindly. Luke shook his head, returning his attention to the strange scenes before him.

A series of ghostly groups presented themselves, giving their versions of Vader's transgressions. Anakin allowed them their time, then displayed his own point of view. Strangely enough, his father seemed stronger, the image of Vader occasionally transposing itself over the strong young man standing beside Luke's mother. Yet, when Luke reached out cautiously with the Force, almost fearing he would find that same dark swirl and eddy of energy with a threatening duality, he found instead a strength of purpose and calmness he never seen nor suspected from his father after his recent depression. He drew closer to him, Dritali silently following, both ready to lend whatever support to Anakin Skywalker they could.

Anakin acknowledged Luke and Dritali's presence with a brief glance and an even briefer smile. He felt Amidala beside him, a warm haven in the preternatural cold of this trial, then turned back to the Dead, focusing on the Jedi spirits.

"I know there is more... Beyond what those who stand beside me can bear." He gripped Amidala's hand to quiet her protest that she could tolerate almost anything. "This needs closure. I need closure. Who will make judgment here?"

Qui-Gon stepped into the circle, facing Anakin as he had when he'd first promised the young boy he would train him, no matter what the Council said.

"Anakin, think. Who best could determine how you must pay these debts? Who best knows those who you owe and what would fulfill those dues?"

The quiet in the courtyard seemed almost sepulchral as Anakin Skywalker considered his old mentor's words. The Dead waited his next words without an attempt to influence them. He looked at their pale faces in the shifting scenes that continued to change as he remembered his past. Amidala, Luke, Dritali stood beside him, lending whatever support they could and he remembered all he had forsaken... all that he from them... when he had followed Palpatine. He looked back at the palace's lit windows, where his daughter, his precious Leia... so like him, stood watching from a distance. Filled with pain yet also with hope. The hope, he realized that she could renew the relationship that they had shared so long ago. Renew and heal and begin to understand each other, as they should have as father and daughter.

He turned back to the specters. Their hollow eyes seemed to demand he choose wisely and in the best interests of all he owed. Despite his pain and the knowledge that his world-weary spirit begged respite, he began to understand his death at this time would not truly satisfy either the living or the Dead. Nizy might howl her rage, but Mother Zemai would support his decision.

"I must make this judgment. Only I know the full extent of my sins. Only I can decide how best to pay for them." He bowed his head to the parties involved among the living and the Dead. "For my wrongs I will travel among the living for ten years. There I will right wrongs and seek my salvation. Not until I have satisfied those I have injured will I consider rest."

He paused, waiting for the Dead's fury, but Zemai kept them in order.

"Wise decision this is, Anakin Skywalker." Yoda joined Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan following him. "Further conditions have you to this judgment?"

Ani swallowed, exquisitely aware of his wife's presence. "Until I complete these tasks I must remain apart from my wife." Amidala cut off her gasp, but her pain reached him like a hot poker in his side.

Obi-Wan answered her unspoken distress. "It's for the best, Amidala. However, we will not begrudge you a renewal of your vows."

He paused and Qui-Gon continued with a significant look at the couple. "Give your wife some time with you, Ani. Then you can begin your quest." His lips quirked in a wry smile. "Indeed, most likely you will find it more difficult to go, but perhaps the reminder of what you leave behind will drive you to do your very best to accomplish what you must."

Amidala spoke up. "What of the other trial? What if he is sentenced to prison?"

Qui-Gon shook his head, his spirit form seeking out Leia, still peering out from her window. "Trust in justice, Amidala... and your daughter."

"Justice!" Nizy screamed, then her voice broke into a parody of laughter. "Oh, of course, justice. His 'mother' here, his daughter there, and his... " She glared at Amidala, and Amidala heard the word she meant, although she actually spat, "...wife egging him along on the sidelines. Justice of the women he's seduced."

The thread of light that held her brightened, tugged back, and Olashya came closer, seeming to be dragged like flotsam through the wake of the dead. Her face became clearer. Her smile was familiar, sad... Amidala knew the smile but she couldn't place it.

"You agreed to abide by the terms of this trial," she said, her voice low and threatening.

"It is not a trial, when the accused pronounces his own judgment, only to be upheld by those in his thrall."

Olashya held up one glowing hand, and Nizy backed away. She batted at the light-thread, but she had no effect on it. "I am in no man's thrall," Olashya said. "Nor in any woman's, least of all yours, Nizy Lummuo. I advise you to submit to this."

"I'm sure you do."

Amidala stared at the Dead, and was torn between a mad desire to attack them and rip at their insubstantial forms, and a competing urge to run inside the Palace, close her eyes, and pray for them to disappear.

She did neither. She just took Ani's hands, and shielded him with her body, for whatever it was worth. He tried to move her, but she wouldn't let him do it.

The Dead moved in, closer.

"You have been warned," Obi-Wan said. "Your case has been heard and judged."

Nizy let out a blood curdling scream, and the night was suddenly a rain of broken threads, as the Dead pulled away from Mother Zemai.

"Now!" the Astaya yelled. "Now, for all of us, Mother! For all your children! Even for the Dead!"

Yoda turned to her -- slowly... how could he be moving slowly now? Amidala wanted to run, to scream. But Yoda looked passively at the shadow of Olashya, and raised his hand to her. "Remember Zemai," he whispered. "Remember and reclaim."

All became still, and Amidala felt as though she couldn't move if she tried, though she longed to. Only the dead flitted about, now seeming leaves caught on a great wind. A bright golden light grew in the night air, and emanated out from Olashya -- from Zemai Laryhi -- and wove itself among the shades. They tried to escape, but could not.

"Come to me," she whispered, and her hood fell away to reveal a spill of blond hair. The years fell away from her face, her robes became the robes of a padawan, the braid formed of light across her shoulder. Her eyes were closed, but they opened abruptly, golden like the light, and sad. She spread her arms, and spoke aloud: "Now."

The light suddenly coalesced, not into delicate threads as it had before, but into thick ropes, binding her to the Dead, and they to her, form to form, inseparable.

Then she began to pull them in.

Amidala wasn't sure what she was seeing when the first shade moved toward Zemai and then disappeared into the light at her breast, but she understood quickly as four more followed, then ten, then a dozen. Zemai's form shone more brightly. The field of the Dead faded and emptied, until only Nizy stood before Zemai.

"Come to me," Zemai said again.

"No... "

Zemai reached out, gently, and touched Nizy's chin, a wise grandmother speaking to a loved but wayward child. "It is time, Nizy. Come. Come to your brothers, and to the man you loved. Leave life to the Living."

Nizy seemed to shrink somehow, to wither, but her wild eyes stilled, formed into the beautiful green they had been while she walked the plains of La'azum. She held out her hands meekly, and Zemai took them, and pulled her into the light. She now stood alone in the courtyard.

"Welcome, you are, Zemai Laryhi," Yoda said. "Take them on their journey, you shall, and should you find your way back to us, accepted will you be, as Anakin was and will be."

She smiled, and the smile was beautiful. "I doubt that I'll find my way back, but the offer is appreciated." She turned to Amidala, or more precisely, to Anakin behind her. "My son Anakin," she said, "what trials I've put you through."

He said nothing, just shook his head to negate it.

"Live now and prove your worth. And Jelon... my blood-son."

The Astaya looked at her evenly. "Now what do we do?"

"You go home," she said. "The task I gave Karik is over. Choose your future."

"And the Tr'astari'shal? The records?"

A pained look crossed her face. "I still find that I cannot condone destroying them. That, I will leave to Anakin to decide."

"It's not safe for him there," the Astaya said, still business-like. "The room... "

"You will find it less cold now. But nowhere is safe. He shouldn't forget that. Jelon, you are free of the responsibility."

"Thank you, Mother."

Again, her gaze moved to Ani. "You did as well as you could, Son of the Suns." Her hand floated out, touched his face, and he smiled at her. "I waited so long for you, my son. And I am proud."

With that, the golden light faded, and she disappeared from view.

Her father was dying.

Isabel had done all that she could. She had convinced him to want to return to the world of the living -- the will to live was the strongest power of all. But it was his body, his own physical self that was failing -- beyond any medical or magical power to repair it.

Her father was dying and Isabel had no way to stop it. She could turn back the clock for Anakin and Amidala, heal the most grievous wounds, return life to a dying Palace garden but not for her father. Some sense, some inner voice warned her that it was Kyrys Tashin's time to go and she could do nothing to hold him back.

Death, who had been cheated of so many at Isabel's hands, would not be denied this time.

The little girl shook her head as she stood by her father's bedside, intently listening to each labored breath. No, that wasn't right. Death had not yet come for Anakin -- Isabel knew that she was allowed to give him her gift. He had crossed Death's boundary, he was allowed to stay for whatever time he or fate would choose.

But not her father. Not Kyrys Tashin.

She wiped the tears streaming down her face and sniffled, feeling very much the child again now, despite all the rationalizations of her adult mind, despite all the memories of loss in the lives she'd had before. How many times had she gone through this? How many times had she watched them slip away from her, knowing that despite all that power, she could do nothing to save them?

Isabel hated feeling so helpless. Once more, the irony struck her. She could help Anakin and Amidala rebuild their family but not her own.

Irony -- if she was the goddess the Ka'alyan said, she could help her father now.

Please, she begged silently, Let him stay. Let me save him!

"He can't stay and I don't think you can make him."

Isabel had half-expected Death herself to be standing there in answer to her plea. But instead, it was Han Solo. She had probably said her thoughts aloud.

Han knelt beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Listen. I don't understand everything that you can do and what exactly you are. But I know you're like Anakin and the kid. All great and powerful, right?"

"I don't feel very powerful right now," she managed in a trembly voice.

"You can't do everything, kid," said Han gently. "You can't save every life and you can't right every wrong."

"But I can try," Isabel answered stubbornly.

Something flickered in Han's eyes. "Yeah. All of us can do is try. It's the trying that's the whole point."

Isabel turned to look at her father. "Yes. It is the whole point." She touched her father's hand,

(still warm, still living)

knowing that very, very soon, she would have to say goodbye.

DEFENSE.

Three days later.

Bezya awoke in the hours just before the sun rose over Theed, when the sky held a twilit blue that made her want to weep. She was beginning to get accustomed to the rich colors here after the deadened gray of Ampinua, but sometimes a chance angle, a new hour, would break upon her like a swell of music. She slipped out of her bed, and knelt beside the window to watch until the shade lightened into something else. It was also beautiful -- a purplish red shot through with the shadows of thin clouds -- but she couldn't meditate on the sky all day today.

The bailiff would be coming for her soon.

In three days in the Palace, she had met the Queen only once, and that briefly. They hadn't known quite what to say to one another, and the lawyer, Ivva Japui, had said that maybe it would be better to wait to speak to the family anyway, at least until after her testimony. Of Anakin Skywalker -- Lord Vader -- she'd seen nothing yet.

Nor of the judge.

Bezya let her breath out slowly. It had not been intentional. She knew that. She knew that the man she was speaking for today had done worse things. But --

I am deeply sorry for your loss, Bezya. A young Rebel in whom I had mistakenly placed my trust betrayed me. Your aunt was trapped between us.

Even through her own grief, Bezya had felt that Vader was hurt as much by the betrayal as by his loss, that this Rebel had been someone of value to him. It hadn't taken long to figure out whom it had been. It also hadn't taken long to see that Vader blamed himself as much as the girl for the incident.

Aunt Rejuo would have said that it was war. War had casualties.

Even casualties among civilians who'd just worked with one side or the other from time to time.

In truth, Bezya didn't know what to do with the strange lump of feeling she had about Leia Organa-Solo. She hadn't been trying to kill Aunt Rejuo; that had been a genuine accident. She'd been trying to kill Vader, and something had gone wrong. What was the legal classification for the death of someone who you weren't intending to kill, while missing the one you did?

But Bezya had no interest in pursuing the legal question, or in turning it over to the press. Leia was Lord Vader's daughter, and he cared what became of her. Hurting her in Rejuo's name would therefore be an insult to both living and dead.

Furthermore, Bezya was tired of the war and everything that had come of it. She just wanted to clean up and start over.

The bailiffs called for her an hour later.

Anakin recognized intellectually that Bezya had grown up at some point between Rejuo's funeral and now. She had taken on her adult shape, and her voice had gone into the slightly lower register of older Ampinuan females.

But she would always seem a child to him, in her last dayss of being able to hover painlessly over the prairies of La'azum. She'd floated beside Rejuo's grave, her translucent wings seeming to glow in the gray light, the only mourner other than Anakin himself. Bezya had been the rebel in her family -- she'd maintained contact with her eccentric aunt while the rest of her relatives had refused to speak to her after she left the planet. Ampinuans were not encouraged to leave home, nor were they especially welcome to come back if the rare off-world adventures didn't work out.

Amidala was looking at her curiously, almost studying her. She whispered, "Was Rejuo so small?"

Anakin nodded, not entirely sure why the matter was of interest to her. "It is an average size for Ampinuans."

Amidala nodded, and wove her fingers through his.

"Good morning, Bezya," Ivva said, when the swearing in was over. "I'd like to begin by asking you -- "

But Vali was shaking her head and standing impatiently. "Your Honor, I reiterate my objection to this witness. This young woman witnessed nothing directly."

Leia looked at her dully, and Anakin could see, even at this distance, that she hadn't slept. Her eyes were dark and sad, and kept flicking over to Rejuo. Bezya. Finally, she forced them to rest on Vali. "Neither did at least two of your own witnesses, Counselor. I reiterate the over-ruling."

Vali sat, and Leia waved for Ivva to go on.

Ivva didn't acknowledge the exchange. "Could you tell the court under what circumstances you knew Anakin Skywalker, known at the time as Darth Vader?"

"He befriended my aunt, Rejuo, when he liberated Ampinua's government from a despot named Mol Zokusa."

Vali didn't bother to stand. "Objection. Prejudicial."

Leia nodded. "This isn't Zokusa's trial. That judgment was passed long ago. Please remain on the subject you are addressing."

Anakin heard, very distinctly, And fairly, at that. He smiled, then sobered, wondering if it would ever be the right time to tell Leia that he had not killed Zokusa... she had. He had been the first person she'd killed, but he'd deemed her unready to deal with it.

Bezya gave her an unreadable look, then nodded. "Very well. My aunt was an engineer -- a good one, if that's not prejudicial."

"Go on."

"Lord Vader took an interest in her designs for ships in the Imperial Fleet, and for several years, championed her rise as a civilian attached to the Navy. He had to defend her many times against some factions in the Empire who didn't want to suffer an Ampinuan female in a responsible position."

"Objection -- "

" -- hearsay," Leia finished. "But also common knowledge. Overruled."

"At what point did you meet Lord Vader yourself?" Ivva asked.

"The first time... I was thirteen, and my aunt invited me to come to Coruscant to visit her while she was waiting for word about... about the factory that was to be built on La'azum. She thought I'd like to see all the great buildings and the trafficways, and the Imperial Palace." Bezya smiled. "She called me a bit wrong that time. I was very frightened of Coruscant. Too big and too noisy. So I stayed at her side all the time. After I'd been there a week, we saw Lord Vader, at his house."

"And the nature of this meeting?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly at the meeting. Lord Vader greeted me cordially, and offered me his library to entertain myself in for two hours. It was a wonderful library. I barely noticed when two hours were up."

Anakin pictured his library on Coruscant, suddenly clear in his mind's eye. It had been the only part of that house that had held any attraction for him, though it had contained certain items that could have proved problematic for him if discovered. Items that Luke would now be interested in. He would undoubtedly ascribe sentimental reasons for their presence, and he might be partially correct, but Anakin suspected the worst of himself -- he'd kept many of the old Jedi records because he was sure that something had been hidden from him during his training. He'd never had time to figure out what it was. Now, he wasn't sure it had been anything. But there had been so much else there. He wondered if he would ever see that room again.

"Relevance?" Vali said dryly.

Not much, Anakin decided.

"She's a character witness, your Honor," Ivva said. "I ask for some latitude."

"Granted."

"When your time in his library was finished, Bezya, what happened?"

"We had dinner. Well, Aunt Rej and I did. Lord Vader simply sat with us, and discussed the political situation. He said he was sorry, but he still hadn't been able to get an officers' commission for my aunt. But he thought he could keep her on as a civilian engineer." Bezya fell into thoughtful silence.

Ivva handed Leia a datapad. "Your Honor, I present into evidence no less than thirty-five separate communications from Lord Vader, to members of the military high command, Imperial senators, and regional governors. All seek an official appointment for one Rejuo of Ampinua. All were denied."

Leia scanned the data, unsurprised by it. Anakin noticed her lip curl at a few names. Amidala craned her neck, as if trying to read halfway across the throne room.

I never discussed Rejuo with her, not really.

He sighed. It had simply not come up. And now... he wondered what rumors she'd been exposed to. Well, she would undoubtedly hear them all here today. He leaned over and whispered, "Talk to me later about this, whatever happens."

She nodded.

Ivva was beside Bezya again. "After the meeting on Coruscant, did you have any further contact with Lord Vader?"

"Through Aunt Rejuo," Bezya said. "He did secure the job for her. On La'azum." Another odd look at Leia.

Leia closed her eyes, and swallowed as if queasy. "Yes."

"When did you next see him?" Ivva asked. Anakin realized that she knew nothing about Leia's connection with Rejuo, but he still resented the fact that it had been brought up at all.

Bezya looked down at her feet. "I saw him next at my aunt's funeral. He arranged for her to be buried with Imperial honors."

"And you?"

"He spoke to me about what a good woman she had been, and a talented engineer, and... " Bezya stopped speaking, and forced herself to control her emotion. "He comforted me as I mourned. And he gave me Rejuo's pension. Only I found out later that she didn't have a pension, because she wasn't commissioned."

"I see. Truly the behavior of a monster," Ivva said.

Vali was already on her way over.

She's so pretty.

Amidala wound her fingers more tightly through Ani's, watching the young woman on the stand, hoping that Vali didn't have anything too horrendous in mind.

I wonder if her aunt looked like that. I wonder if...

Ani squeezed her hand, and looked at her quizzically. She knew the look, and it reassured her. She'd only been jealous a few times in their relationship, and he'd given her this same, puzzled, what-could-you-possibly-be-thinking look, and it was because he really was puzzled by it.

Reassured, Amidala turned her attention back where it belonged. Vali had already swooped in on Bezya, and was all but perched beside the witness stand.

"You and your aunt were close, weren't you?"

"Yes. My parents didn't like her, but I always did."

"I see. A bit of a hero of yours?"

"I suppose you could say that."

"So the man who helped her... he must have been something special, too."

"Yes." Her delicate face became set and stern. "I fail to see where you find this problematic."

Vali turned away from her, and for an instant, she faced the defendant's box directly. She was fresh from her rest and eager, and, unless Amidala was mistaken, she did not seem to like Bezya much. "Oh, not problematic. Just, shall we say, noted for the record."

"Very well."

"How would you describe your aunt's relationship with this man?"

"He was her benefactor. And her friend."

"And she was his... what was she exactly?"

Ani reached over Amidala and touched Ivva's shoulder. His eyes were cold and hard. He mouthed, "Object."

Ivva raised a hand. "Objection."

"On what grounds?"

Ani leaned around, then just whispered, "May I?"

"May the defendant answer?" Ivva asked.

"It's irregular, but I'll allow it."

Ani nodded and stood. "The prosecution intends to bring up long-dormant -- and always untrue -- rumors about a woman not here to defend herself."

Leia's eyes narrowed, and Amidala could feel the way the energy flowed between them, a narrow, focused strand of... of whatever it was they shared. Leia shook her head. "I'm sorry, Counselor Japui. I have no more liking for gossip-mongering than you do -- a fact which Counselor Umbuimi should keep in mind as she pursues this, because the latitude is slim -- but the word of this witness is based on things she knows from her association with her aunt. That is the filter she is seeing through. I believe it to be important to understand the nature of this friendship."

Ani sat down, seething. Amidala could feel it in the air around him. It wasn't one of his more dangerous pouts, just the same frustration he'd been given to when someone made a criticism with which he disagreed, usually about decisions of hers that were questioned publicly. This Rejuo, though she had known him only as Vader, certainly seemed to rate what Amidala considered an archetypically Anakin-esque response.

Good for her. She saw him.

Vali went back to her questioning. "Would you say that your aunt considered herself a friend to Lord Vader?"

"Yes. Of course."

"And she felt... loyalty, perhaps?"

"I'd say she was loyal, yes."

"Affection?"

"It was difficult to feel affectionate about Lord Vader... "

"I'm sure there are many who would agree with that sentiment. Nevertheless, did your aunt ever seem to you to express affection for him?"

There was a hesitation. "Yes."

"Devotion?"

"Yes."

"In fact, Kel Bezya, your aunt was in love with Lord Vader, wasn't she?"

No answer.

"Kel Bezya?"

"I wouldn't know."

"You're under oath."

Bezya sat on the stand, her lips pressed together. "I don't see the relevance of this."

"Interesting. The defendant has made an objection, now the witness is objecting. This is a most unusual testimony."

Leia straightened her back. "The defense lawyer made the previous objection; the defendant simply explained it. As to Kel Bezya's objection... I'm afraid you do need to answer the question to the best of your abilities. I'm sorry, but it is relevant to know the lens you saw this man through."

"Too bad the lens isn't here to ask," Bezya snapped.

Leia took in a sharp breath, then closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Bezya said. "That was uncalled for."

"Yes it was. Please answer."

Bezya nodded. "Yes. She was in love with him. She told me so. But he never returned it. His actions in the matter were... of purer motivation."

"Ah, yes, of course. He wanted faster and deadlier TIE fighters. Much purer."

"He wanted an engineer to work in her own field and succeed in it."

"And you know this because?"

Amidala's heart was beating quickly. She was sure that Vali was going to throw out everything Bezya said on the basis of hearsay or speculation, or some other thing.

But this time, it was Bezya's turn to be serene and confident. "I heard that from Lord Vader himself, directly, the day they met. While my aunt and I were eating, he spoke at length about the political difficulties. My aunt said he didn't have to go to such lengths for her. His answer was, 'I will not have a talented engineer waste that talent by not exercising it. You have the skill to be at the top of your field, and I will see to it that you get there.' That's an exact quote, Counselor. I never imagined that I would hear an agent of the Empire say such a thing to an Ampinuan woman, and I burned it into my mind. If there were security cameras in his house, it would report to you exactly what I just said." She paused for effect, and smiled. "Was there something else you wanted to know?"

Amidala wanted to stand up and cheer, and instead settled for a smile.

When Vali spoke again, her humor actually seemed to have improved. "No, Kel Bezya, that's all I needed to know. Thank you." When she started back to her box, Amidala saw that she was smiling, not at all maliciously.

Odd.

Her attention drifted back to the witness stand, where Bezya was still sitting calmly and expectantly. Then her eyes went to Leia.

Suddenly, Amidala's good mood dissipated. Leia was pale and still, her hands gripping the sides of the throne like claws. For the first time, Amidala noticed that Ani was not smiling at Bezya or paying attention to Vali. The animosity that had flowed between Ani and Leia earlier was gone, and now there was something else, something that traveled under a shroud of darkness, which bound them together, and hid something terrible between them.

Leia relaxed her grip on the throne slowly and deliberately, then looked at Bezya. "The witness is excused," she said.

Bezya stepped down.

Leia called a lunch recess, and disappeared into her chambers.

How could the day seem so bright? The sunlight through her chamber's window hurt her eyes, forcing her to look away into the darkness... the darkness of the act she'd done in her younger years. She could still remember the rage she'd felt at realizing Vader's responsibility for Saché's death, the woman she'd believed her mother for most of her life. The blinding fury swiftly followed by cold determination to kill him. Leia rubbed her aching temples, the pain nauseating her almost as much as the memory of her attack and its unfortunate conclusion.

With a muttered curse, she rose, pacing before her desk. How could she judge her own father for his transgressions when she was as guilty as he of murder? Yet who else could provide the New Republic with a fair Chancellor? She had seen both sides and knew the dangers inherent in both. Bah! Who was she fooling? Only herself... She hadn't known of Rejuo's death until much later, but hearing Bezya's testimony brought back that day with terrifying clarity.

She'd gone to burn him away from her consciousness, to exorcise him in fire to make him pay her back for her loss. Beyond that, she hadn't really thought, just acted out of a sense of vengeance for a wrong he'd committed against her. And in that very act, she had tread perilously close to following in her father's footsteps. Now she knew that, but at the time all she could feel was a sickness in her soul at what she'd done... She'd watched him burn, and aware now of how he'd sustained his original injuries... Her gorge rose and it took all her willpower to bring her churning stomach under control.

Legally, she supposed she had every reason for a trial of her own, but really she didn't think anyone would prosecute her. After all, what she'd done could be seen as an act of war for the winning side. Morally...

Well, there's the rub, she thought. What I did at the factory on La'azum was no better than what my father did at Ihivizi to the Rebel leaders.

Bezya's delicate features rose up before her, reminding her of the brief view she'd had of Rejuo, hurrying beside Vader from the collapsing TIE fighter factory. The woman hadn't had Bezya's fragile wings or long hair and thinking back, Leia understood just how much Rejuo must have suffered under Palpatine's Empire and his treatment of non-humans. She also remembered the awful rumors she'd endured during her first campaign for a Senate seat and how unfair they'd been.

Leia sighed, feeling soul-weary and wanting nothing more than to finish this thing and try to move forward with everyone's lives. She'd listen to the other defense witnesses Ivva had summoned, but more and more she began to sense what she must do as far as sentencing her own father went. Something that would not only satisfy the plaintiffs, but also the defendant, for she knew Anakin Skywalker would only settle for a sentence appropriate to the crimes he felt guilty of as Darth Vader.

If it were only that simple for her offenses, she might consign herself to the same punishment. Except what she contemplated wouldn't have the same impact for herself as it would for him. Instead, she must continue in her role as Chancellor and judge of her father. The sole penalty she would see would remain the knowledge of what she'd done on Ampinua in causing the wrongful death of a woman who cared for her father merely because he had provided for her only as a friend he'd recognized as kindred spirit. For some, her sentence might suffice, but somehow she felt she had gotten off lightly and might never atone for what she'd done.

She glanced over at her cold lunch with a grimace. All thoughts of food made her stomach clench. Resolutely, she set her chrono to alarm in an hour and settled down on the couch in an attempt to rest and prepare to face the courtroom later. Whether or not she would find success in that remained as much a question as how she would deal with the following days of the trial.

It was the singing that caught Han's attention.

The song was in no language that Han had ever heard, sung by a voice of such heartbreaking sweetness and clarity, filled by a sorrow that wrung up too many old, long-buried memories that Han would have preferred not to dig up again.

Isabel was singing.

The little girl was sitting on her father's bed, staring sightlessly at the window, rocking back and forth as she continued to sing. She clutched her rather battered doll to her cheek with one hand. The other lay on her father's hand.

(Now so cold...oh my father, so very, very cold...)

Han couldn't help noting that the dead man looked far more peaceful than he had in life.

Slowly, he approached the little girl, not quite knowing what to do at that moment. The memories kept coming into his head, called up by the song -- he didn't know why. When he too had been an orphan, a lost child left to fend for himself with no family or friends to turn to.

"My father died free," Isabel spoke suddenly.

Han, who'd always managed to find something to say -- however crazy it was -- in any situation, stayed silent.

"You were right," the child continued in an unnaturally calm voice. "I couldn't save him. Not this time. I had forgotten that -- and I thank you for reminding me. But -- " She paused and Han thought that that was it for sure. But she continued in that same eerily composed tone. "My father -- he was at peace, he knew the Truth and he could go freely. I gave my gift to him, I did. And he was happy."

She fell silent then and Han realized, at that moment, what he could do.

He took the child into his arms, a bit clumsily at first, then he figured out how to hold such a little girl and then said simply, "You won't be alone. I promise."

And finally, Isabel wept.

"Wait for me out at our favorite spot," Amidala whispered to him, shooed him outside and then disappeared back into the palace.

Ani sighed and made his way toward the river to await her, certain when she joined him she'd grill him about Rejuo.

Rejuo... An ineffable sadness filled him and he realized he still missed the talented Ampinuan engineer and regretted her death because she had been beside him at the wrong time.

He'd known she felt something for him, but he'd figured it as merely a crush, an affection for him because he'd championed her cause. That she would share with her niece that she felt so deeply about him, loved him... unthinkable. How could she love that... that thing he had become? He'd never encouraged such feelings in her... truly, he'd never encouraged anything like it in anyone after he became Vader. Even Leia. That had been a fluke. He'd appreciated her spirit and something within her had called out to him without her knowledge and when she hadn't flinched from his fearsome appearance and reputation, a tiny chink had opened in his armor.

Ani settled onto the grass beneath one of the larger trees and leaned back against its rough bark. He closed eyes for a moment, then opened them with the sudden insight that his 'friendship' with his own daughter had started Anakin Skywalker's fight to return to the Light. Not that he hadn't done terrible things after he'd begun the ill-advised relationship, but deep inside he had acknowledged there had to be a better way to do things. That rationalizing the ends justified the means was a poor excuse for following Palpatine's edicts and allowing him to use him in such a way.

Then after he found Rejuo and did all he could to forward her cause, he managed to fool himself into believing he had indeed made a difference in the way the Empire did business. Ani snorted in self-derision. Poor Rejuo had paid the price of his hubris. Which brought him right back to Bezya's incredible revelation. If he had known how Rejuo felt... No, he wouldn't have changed what he did for her. She had deserved every bit of recognition he had fought to get her. But perhaps he might have cautioned her to... To what? She had never seemed that attached to him; never clung to him in public or private, had never said anything inappropriate. Just that odd sense he occasionally had gotten around her. That strangely tender warmth she projected beneath her cool exterior.

Forgive me, Rejuo, for not recognizing that. I hadn't felt it in so long I'd forgotten what it was and ignored it. I should have been more aware so that I could have disabused you of your misplaced affection.

Amidala cleared her throat behind him and he leapt to his feet guiltily.

"Sorry, Am. I didn't bring anything to sit on..." His voice trailed off at the sight of her. She couldn't have taken more than a few moments inside, however she'd brought not only a blanket, but also a basket, which he assumed she had filled with food. His stomach growled which made Amidala laugh. He grinned sheepishly, then joined her for a moment, pushing away his regret-filled thoughts.

Despite her protests, he took the blanket from her and spread it in the same spot he'd just vacated. With a flourish, he removed the basket from her arm and bowed, indicating the blanket.

"My lady, would you care to join me for a brief repast?"

A mischievous grin played over her lips before she dipped her head in acknowledgment. "Why, I would be honored, Sir Knight."

He could only feel grateful she looked away to where she would sit, giving him a chance to recoup from her words. Did she still see him as that young, brash Jedi Knight he'd been a million years ago? Of course she did, he wore that same face she had known in her youth. Though he appeared only nineteen, he still felt the weight of every year of darkness he had lived as if it were yesterday.

She looked up from her resting-place; the smile quickly replaced with concern. He tried to lighten his expression, but her frown told him he had failed.

"What's wrong, Ani?"

He shrugged and flopped onto the blanket beside her, rummaging through the basket to avoid looking into her eyes.

Her hand pushed at his shoulder, catching him off balance and making him fall onto his back.

"Ooof! Hey, what was that for--" She cut off his words with her fingers as she leaned over him.

"It's high time for you to stop trying to pretend with me. I know better, Ani. I know you and I know when something's troubling you." She glared at him. "It's that woman's testimony today, isn't it?"

He debated the wisdom of putting her off, then realized he wouldn't gain anything in the long run. She deserved to know.

"Rejuo had been a good friend. She... I found her in desperate straits and once I'd rescued her, I discovered she loved to work with designs and building things as much I did. In her, I found someone who didn't look at me in horror and who shared a common interest. Nothing more, Am, I swear. I never knew about... about how she felt. And if I had, I certainly wouldn't have encouraged her."

There was always only one for me.... Only one angel for this dark soul. And when I thought you were gone, I never thought love would touch me again.

Amidala lay on his chest, her arms cradling his shoulders. "Oh, Ani. Don't you think she saw through that fierce exterior into your soul? How could she not care for you deeply? Somehow, I have a feeling Rejuo saw beyond the darkness of Vader into Anakin Skywalker's soul." She gave a watery chuckle. "Perhaps we might have been good friends if I'd known her. At the very least, I would have respected her for her strength."

A disbelieving snort erupted from him. "Amidala, you must be joking. First off, Rejuo had no basis for such insight. She never knew Anakin Skywalker, only the Sith Lord Vader. I never treated her with anything but honesty--"

She pushed up to give him a piercing look. "Ani, you never really left. You just hid behind the scars on your body and your soul. But even those scars couldn't disguise the goodness deep inside you. Those who could penetrate it you held off, but it didn't stop them from seeing it."

Except Leia. She felt betrayed because I'd warned her against her going to the Rebels, had been responsible for ordering the stormtroopers to attack the place where Saché had hidden, for Saché's death. Then all my daughter had felt had been hatred and the overpowering need for revenge. Leia...

"You're too good, Am. You see the best in people, even when it's such a small amount no one else can."

"Right. Like I saw Palpatine's." She grimaced. "I never knew the depths he would go to and let him use me on more than one occasion to further his own ambitions."

"Difficult to see is the Dark Side," Ani parroted Yoda's words, remembering what Qui-Gon had told him so many years ago after Maul's first attack on Tatooine.

Amidala groaned. "Please, no Yodaisms today. It's too pretty out here and I'm tired of being unhappy. Haven't we had enough years of misery yet? Do I have to hear that old Jedi Master's murky stuff, too?"

A genuine smile split his face and she returned it with a tiny shake of her head. He continued to study her, taking in the soft halo of dark brown hair that fell around her beautiful face, the sparkle in her eyes, the tempting fullness of her lips that begged for the touch of his own.

"Ani..." she whispered. "If you keep looking at me like that, I'm likely to forget where we are..."

"Shh... Once this is over, Am, I promise we'll renew our vows." He pulled her closer. "I love you, Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker. Will you marry me, my angel?"

She looked down, worrying her lower lip between her teeth and for a heart-stopping moment he feared she'd refuse him. Then she raised her eyes again, so filled with love he nearly forgot to breathe.

"Yes, Anakin. I'll marry you again. I'd marry you a thousand times if necessary. So long as you say you love me."

"Am..." he whispered, then pulled her closer until he touched her lips with his own.

Soft, sweet, they melded to his as if she were part of him. No, she was part of him. No matter where he might be, a piece of her soul went with him and he left a piece of his with her. He felt his body stir and with regret, broke the embrace.

"Come on, love. I'm starved and lunch will soon be over." He helped her sit up, then rolled onto his stomach to return to searching through the basket.

She remained quiet during the meal and for the last of their lunch he lay back against the trunk with her sitting in his arms. He didn't care how much physical pain her nearness caused for the balm to his soul her love gave more than compensated for it. Neither said a word as they looked out over the river, the ducks quacking in the distance, the breeze softly ruffling their hair and clothes. Enjoying each other, smelling, tasting, feeling each other as they had been denied for so long made the almost certain sacrifices of future seem even more bitter.

He rested his chin on her head and committed her to memory once again. The feel of her soft body against his, her scent, the softness of her skin as his hand gently caressed her arm made him pray that his daughter would allow him a penance he could pay without forsaking his beloved wife completely. Somehow he knew he must do as Qui-Gon bid. Trust justice and trust his daughter.

There was no right approach.

Bezya had spent all afternoon, thinking of different ways to talk to Leia Organa-Solo. But how would such a conversation even begin, let alone end?

Bezya knew about Leia. She hadn't been obsessed, but she also hadn't exactly been disinterested. News items would crop up, and Bezya would always read them. Carefully. She wouldn't go seeking news...

Well, not often, anyway.

Maybe once or twice, she'd scanned the nets. Maybe she'd read a biography or two, and the profile that the Empire released for any helpful citizen who wanted to offer them information. But she hadn't pasted those articles into a scrapbook, or chewed her nails if she couldn't find anything. She hadn't gone to haunt places Leia was known to have been, or found old acquaintances to grill. It hadn't been a true obsession.

Still, that didn't change the fact that Bezya knew a lot more about Leia Organa-Solo than Leia knew about Bezya. It was a skewed, out-of-balance way to meet someone, even when the person was known because of some admirable skill or deed.

When the person was known because of resentment and anger...

How exactly was that supposed to go?

She knew that, ultimately, she had to tell Leia that she could go on with her life without fear of prosecution. But how should that go? A carte-blanche forgiveness? Not only could Bezya not offer it, everything she knew about Leia suggested that it wouldn't be accepted.

Maybe a statement of understanding, explaining how she knew all the things that had led to that night on La'azum, how Leia had snapped, and that she hadn't committed any war crimes since...

Sure, nothing like having a stranger analyze you and claim to know all the answers to questions that nagged at your own mind. No, Bezya wouldn't start making guesses about Leia's mental state. Hearsay, your honor. Speculation.

A righteous accusation, demanding an apology? A condemnation? Force her to face not only a war crime, but a horrible civil crime as well?

That wasn't in Bezya's nature.

At some point during the last rays of the afternoon, she heard court let out below, the spectators and journalists pouring out into the square. Downstairs, they would be serving dinner. Bezya wasn't hungry. She didn't turn on her lights, and the room grew darker.

At last, the room was a cool, glowing red, and she knew she could sit and think no longer. She would put it in abeyance until something occurred to her. She'd waited this long; she could continue waiting.

And she supposed she had best get dinner before it would be an ordeal to do it, though she still wasn't hungry. She put her mind back in some kind of order, flipped on the overhead lights to re-orient herself, then opened the door to go downstairs.

Leia Organa-Solo was waiting outside her door.

She'd obviously been pacing in small, short arcs, and when the door opened, she stopped and looked at Bezya with wide eyes. "Kel Bezya, I -- " Her voice faltered, and she simply stood there, blinking.

Bezya blinked back. All she could think of to say, in the end, was, "I know."

The sun sank, unnoticed, beyond Bezya's windows, and somewhere outside, the evening rains began.

Leia found her voice again first. "I'm so sorry. I... I can't even think how to say it. What I did that night on La'azum was... a terrible thing. A shameful thing."

"I have no argument," Bezya whispered. "I wish I did."

"All I can say is... and I don't know if I could make you believe this... "

"I'll believe what you say."

"If fate gave me a chance to get one life back, one life that was lost in all of this -- it would be hers. I never knew her, not really, but it would be hers, because I would have no right to ask for another, because of what happened."

"Fate seems not to have offered the choice." Bezya raised her eyes to meet Leia's. "Yet I understand and accept what you say."

"My father advised me not to publicly confess, but I am considering -- "

"No!" The word was out before Bezya knew it was coming, and she was shaking her head violently. "For the sake of all that's sacred, don't do that. The galaxy can't take another destabilization. To cause another war in my aunt's name would give her no honor."

"But it's hypocritical of me -- "

"Yes, of course it is. And you're going to have to live with that. It will gnaw you, and when it does, you remember her face in the fire." Bezya's heart was beating quickly, and she pulled back on the anger that was coming out with this. "But someone, somewhere, just has to say 'stop it.' It was a war. It was awful, bloody civil war, and things happened on both sides. And I'm tired of it. And the galaxy is tired of it. Only the miserable Ka'alyan and their ilk seem eager to keep fighting. I just want to make it go away. I want the galaxy to get on with its damned business and leave my family alone. That's not going to happen if you try to soothe your conscience by baring your soul."

"Kel Bezya, it may come out... "

"That you led the raid? Yes. It's bound to. But only you and your father know what happened outside the factory. I know what I've guessed. None of us will speak of it."

Leia looked like she wanted to say something. Her mouth even moved, but nothing came out. At last, she just closed her eyes, and straightened her shoulders. "Then we won't speak of it. But I'll be carrying it with me. I don't know if that means anything to you."

"It means something," Bezya said.

Leia nodded, started to say something, then turned around and went down the hall, her pace picking up as she walked, her back straightening. She would carry it, and she wouldn't do so as a conspicuous penitent. Her burden would be carried alone and in silence.

And maybe that was the worst punishment that she could have inflicted on herself.

DAY 14.

"Please state your name for the court."

"Fineal Merlor, formerly second lieutenant, Imperial Navy."

Not today, Leia thought. Why should Father's defense be so hard on me?

But the defense was what it was. His life was too entwined with her own, not merely by blood, for any part of this to leave her untouched. "Very well, Lieutenant Merlor."

"I no longer bear a rank, Your Honor."

Leia didn't bother answering. She just motioned to Ivva, who was looking fairly pale herself this morning.

Ivva nodded. "Mr. Merlor," she said, "you were stationed on the Imperial battle station known colloquially as the Death Star."

"Yes, Counselor. To my shame."

Ivva just blinked twice. Leia found that she could handle this better if she left her own head and tried to concentrate on everyone else in the room. Mother was looking down at her feet. The various spectators were shifting uncomfortably. The press was leaning forward, many of them double-checking their transmission units. Today would be the first time the galaxy saw what happened on the battle bridge of the first Death Star, and no news outlet wanted to miss it.

For some reason, Vertash G'lahter was sitting with Kit Binai today. Both of them looked grave.

"When the Death Star was destroyed in the battle of Yavin IV, the personnel loss was estimated at ninety-nine percent."

"Ninety-nine point five-seven," Merlor corrected automatically. Damned Imperial precision. Wouldn't it have been enough to just say "Yes"?

Leia let her eyes roam around the room again. Same looks, same business. Only Vertash G'lahter looked different. He'd leaned forward, and buried his hands in his mop of red hair.

"And how," Ivva asked, "did you survive the battle?"

Merlor sighed. "After the destruction of Alderaan, I asked permission to deliver the backup security chips of the affair to Coruscant."

"Asked permission from whom? Governor Tarkin?"

"No, ma'am. I went to Lord Vader."

"But Tarkin was in command of the Death Star. Surely he approved it?"

Merlor smiled tightly. "Governor Tarkin and Lord Vader did not see eye to eye on any number of matters. I thought it would be advantageous not to seek secondary approval at that time."

"I see." Ivva took a deep breath. "Am I to understand that your intention was not to deliver the security chip?"

"I didn't care about it. All I wanted was to get off that station. I couldn't stand it. I wish I could tell you I had a selfless plan to reveal everything to the people of the galaxy. It did cross my mind, but I am, in point of fact, a coward. I took the chip for cover and slipped off. When the Death Star was destroyed, my name was on the casualty list. I let it stand."

There was a pause.

Father was watching with some interest -- Merlor wasn't his sort of officer (at least as Leia understood such things), but clearly he was exhibiting some sort of courage, however belated.

"You mentioned that Lord Vader and Governor Tarkin did not see eye to eye. What experience did you have of this?"

"There were constant disagreements. Some I know of only by hearsay from other officers, but I... I personally witnessed a disagreement outside the war room. That was why I chose to speak to Vader. I thought he might want it on record that he... disagreed with Tarkin on certain matters. Now that I consider it, I suppose it wouldn't have reflected particularly well on him, but at the time, I thought myself quite clever."

"What was the substance of this disagreement?"

"Governor Tarkin wanted to use the Death Star to threaten Alderaan, to try and extract information from... from Princess Leia."

Leia tightened all the muscles in her body, concentrating on each one in turn. Vader's methods had been unpleasant in the extreme, but Tarkin's had been unspeakable. Merlor was glancing at her guiltily, and she wanted to shout, Why didn't you help me, you coward? Why didn't any of you help me? But she didn't. She just said, "Go on."

"Lord Vader said it would be foolish. That you... that she wouldn't betray the Rebellion, even for that. He said that Tarkin was too eager to use the Death Star. That taking an action like that would solidify the Rebellion, and possibly increase its ranks. A non-military target always would. He was quite adamant, but Tarkin was in command. He said that Lord Vader's approach was certainly not effective, and... " He shook his head. "I'm sure you take the basic meaning. I suspected that things would end badly, so I thought that Lord Vader would want his position on the subject preserved... "

The world swam, and Leia fought to keep from squeezing her eyes shut. The man was talking about the political ramifications.

But the point was, the political ramifications hadn't occurred to Father. Whatever Merlor's thoughts, Father had never publicized his disagreements with the Empire for political purposes.

"And that is what we are interested in," Ivva said quickly. She held up a small chip. "This is the chip you have carried since the destruction of Alderaan?"

"Yes."

Ivva placed it on the arm of Leia's chair, and both of them looked at it distastefully. "If it pleases the Court, I have edited the data on the chip to exclude material which is not of concern to these proceedings. The full record of Death Star activity is available on the original chip. This shows the disagreement between Vader and Tarkin, and shows -- for those who have questioned the sequence of events -- who gave the orders on the battle bridge."

"None of this pleases the Court," Leia said, "but less is more."

Ivva looked at her miserably. "Then I will advise all viewers that an act of wanton violence will be shown in its entirety, and that it was not a decision forced by actions of the victim, as alleged in Governor Tarkin's public announcement."

"Very well, Counselor."

Ivva dropped the edited chip into the player.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to be in court today," Dritali said. "I mean, I guess this one's going to be rough on your sister."

"We've taken too much time from your training already." Luke pulled the speeder to a stop. They were far down in the blasted lands south of Theed now, where none of the new growth had yet taken route. It was ugly here, but the rock-strewn plains were a good place to do physical training, and the fact that none of the busy Theed crowd bothered to leave the settled area made it cleaner and calmer for mental work. The latter would make up much of the day. Dritali was building her lightsaber.

Dritali got out of the speeder and pulled the toolkit after her. "Are you sure? I mean, I could probably follow your instructions on this without you being here. Didn't you make yours by yourself?"

"I'd rather be with you." He turned away, but he could still feel Dritali's piercing eyes on him. He wondered if, when she'd been with him a little longer, he would feel less like the student in the equation. "What is it, 'Tali?"

"You felt it, didn't you?"

He sighed. "No. Not the first time. The second time, above Endor -- yes, I felt something when the men died on board. But the first time, I knew very little of the Force, and all I felt was relief that the Death Star was gone, and pride at making a good shot."

Dritali was quiet for a long moment, then she picked up the box of components that they had put together in Theed. She held it thoughtfully against one hip. "Master?"

"Yes?"

"What do you feel about it now?"

None of your business. Not your concern. "I feel... relief that the Death Star was destroyed, and that the Rebellion lived on to win the war."

"And the pride?"

"I feel no pride about it. It was the first time I consciously used the Force to guide my actions, and I did something that needed to be done -- the Empire had left no option. But I don't take pride in killing, Dritali. I don't want you to, either."

He could feel something, some knowledge buzzing around her, but she was being less open than she was asking him to be. Dritali'd had no loyalty to the Empire, no matter which side of the war she'd been born on. Something else was eating at her. She looked at the box of lightsaber components. "We're not building this to carve krayt-tail on Boonta Eve."

Luke took it from her. "If you're building it with the anticipation of killing, you're not building it."

"I'm not." She sat down beside the toolkit. "I'm sorry. I never thought that being on opposite sides of a war that's over would make a difference. And I know that everything that was done... well, it had to be done, and it was the Empire's fault. But I just keep thinking about the men. There were some real... some really evil men in the Empire. And I guess there were some saints, too. And then there was your father, who couldn't decide which he was going to be on any given day. But most of them were just, you know, people. When I went to parties, I remember them playing cards and talking about sports, same as you guys do. They were on the wrong side, but... " She stopped and looked down. "I'm sorry, Master. I know I'm not telling you anything you don't know. And I know it must hurt you. I have no business bringing it up."

No, you don't.

Luke bit back the ungenerous thought, and sat down across from her, setting the box down between them. He touched her chin to make her look up. "It's good that I know what's troubling you, Dritali. We haven't discussed this. And I hadn't suspected that it was a concern to you, though I should have. I can't think of anything to make it easier."

She cast her eyes down again, and opened the box of components. Her hands were shaking a little as she reached in. "Yes, of course. We should start this."

Luke caught her wrist. "There's something you're not telling me."

Her eyes met his, almost involuntarily, and she looked trapped. But the image rose immediately in her mind. She tried to shunt it aside, to confuse it with other images, but it wouldn't budge, and all the shadowy images she conjured were insubstantial next to it.

In Dritali's mind, the only thing Luke could sense was the face of the boy Vertash G'lahter.

He let go of her and broke the connection, wishing that he hadn't made it in the first place. His eyes closed, but of course, he couldn't unsee it. "His father."

Dritali's voice was weak and shaky, the voice of a young girl, not a Jedi padawan. "His mother, too. She was... well, she wasn't supposed to be there, but she was there anyway. I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean for you to see that."

"Yes, you did, Dritali. That's why you brought up the subject in the first place. You wanted me to know that."

"Maybe... I don't know. All I know is that Vertash didn't want you to know. He's okay with you. He's been doing fine. I'm just not sure... you know, today in court... he's going to be there, and he'll be thinking about it, and... " She swallowed hard. "I apologize, Master. I have overstepped my bounds."

Luke opened his eyes, and took her hands. "It's all right, Dritali. I don't hold your loyalty to your friends against you, and I know you don't mean harm to me or to anyone else. I can't say I'm glad to know it -- I would be very glad to not know it -- but it is, perhaps, not wrong for me to have a face to put that last act of the battle."

"Against all those faces on Alderaan."

"I did what needed to be done. I would do it again, if the need arose. The Death Star had no business existing. But any time that something like that needs to be done... " He shook his head. "Maybe it's best if we always remember what the price is for doing it. That way, we will never pay it lightly."

Vertash had insisted on attending Merlor's testimony and had just as adamantly refused to let Kerea sit beside him to hear about both Alderaan and the Death Star. She'd been hurt, but in the end, he knew it for the best. Kit, however, he'd been more than happy to have at his side. Someone who'd never judge him as he'd never judged his friend, sitting over there in the defendant's seat.

Now he had to face just what kind of awful weapon his father had worked on. His still missed his parents terribly and could only imagine how Kerea felt. Not only had she lost hers as well, but also the entire place she had called home. Maybe she'd feel better that the Alderaanians here had more or less accepted her.

He grimaced. Except for the fact she'd attached herself to the son of a low level Imperial officer, things seemed better for Kerea. Wasn't bad enough he had Imp parents, but his father'd been onboard the vessel of her home world's destruction. After this whole thing ended, he wondered if she'd want anything more to do with him.

Fineal Merlor took the stand and Tash listened to his testimony with a sinking heart. No doubt in his mind now that his father had been indirectly responsible for his beloved's planet just with his presence on the battle station. Tash didn't know what made him sicker, that or the fact both his parents had died on that monstrosity the Emperor had created. An odd curiosity gripped him and he contemplated cornering the defense counsel after Merlor's testimony ended. Deep inside, he wanted to go over every minute of the data chip, searching for a glimpse of his father's face. He had to know where his father had been when the order to fire on Alderaan had come. His mother... Somehow he knew she'd been in his quarters, waiting for him to get off duty, praying no one would discover her presence.

And Vader had sent this man off the station before the Rebels had blown it out of the sky... along with nearly everyone onboard. The only ones who'd survived had been Merlor and Lord Vader himself. Tash wondered how Luke felt about it. He really couldn't fault the Jedi master for what he'd done. The Death Star had been an awful thing, he realized that now, but couldn't he have given the troops time to evacuate. He'd mulled this over a thousand times at least, always coming to the same conclusion. There hadn't been time. No time to allow his parents to flee, just as Moff Tarkin hadn't allowed Kerea's parents and so many others to leave Alderaan.

His familiar circular pattern of logic brought him back to Kerea. He felt slightly sick to his stomach and dropped his head into his hands, trying to shut out the former Imperial officer's voice and the others around him. Kit's warm hand on his shoulder kept him from completely tuning out, a mixed blessing in itself and he stifled a groan. He wondered how he'd face Kerea again once this thing was done. She'd been his staunchest supporter and perhaps he'd known that might change if... when she saw how the Empire had ruined her life. He sighed, sat back against the hard wooden seat and steeled himself to watch his beloved's planet blown to smithereens.

Kerea had more or less gotten over her distress at Vertash's refusal to allow her to be at his side during this morning court. Rather than turning her against him, she felt hearing what happened would have helped them both deal better with the past. After all, it wasn't like she had escaped suffering the same sort of losses. But somehow, he'd decided she'd be better off away from it and him.

Men... Always trying to protect their women when they're really the ones who need protecting.

She leaned against one of the market place's pillars, watching Pippa play with the other Alderaanian children in the square. Sometimes she wished she were that innocent again, never really understanding what she'd lost or stood to lose. Maybe that's what bothered her the most. She worried that she'd lose Tash, that he'd turn away from her. That she couldn't stand. Oh, he'd said he'd never leave her, but that was before he knew about this guy from the Death Star giving testimony about Alderaan's last moments. A painful lump lodged in her throat and the scene before her blurred. With one hand she scrubbed her eyes, determined not to cry here. After all this time she should have it out of her system. All she could do now was keep busy and pray that Tash wouldn't get weird on her. She'd give him a little bit to absorb the whole thing, then she'd find him and drag every detail from him if it took forever. A smile grew on her face. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad after all... Taking forever, that was. In fact, she sort of hoped it might.

With Alderaan gone forever, she'd attached herself to Kit and Sanctuary. But now she realized she had to do something with her life and she had no idea what that would be other than stay at Tash's side. Somehow, she doubted he'd see eye to eye with her on that. She tapped her forefinger on her chin, casting ideas around like clothing she contemplated wearing for a special event before settling on just the right one. With a determined tilt of her head, she called Pippa and headed for the Healers' quarter. Perhaps she could accomplish two things in one.

He wouldn't dare.

Anakin closed his eyes. Vader's voice was a memory. It wasn't like it had been before, when he'd felt Vader like he was more real than

(I am)

the present, but it was shockingly real.

He wouldn't dare. He won't defy me.

But Tarkin had dared. In fact, Tarkin seemed to think nothing of it at all. He'd given the order, and Leia had run at him. Vader had grabbed her instinctively and pulled her back when he'd seen the guards raising their weapons.

They must not kill her had been his thought. And the memory of the other thought, the unthinkable thought, rose just as quickly, before he could stop it: That is for me, and me alone.

Luke would undoubtedly call the first the "real Anakin," and the second a "Vader-ish" justification, but Vader remembered both of them feeling real, both of them feeling like his own thoughts. And he remembered watching the bridge of the Death Star, looking impassively out the viewport at Alderaan, and not caring about anything other than who would ultimately kill Leia Organa. The rest was just background noise.

Sure. Wouldn't want to be distracted from the murder of my daughter.

(You had no knowledge of that. Amidala lied to you.)

On this point, he had no trouble pushing Vader into his mind's version of a solid steel wall. Even then, he'd understood the reasoning behind Amidala's actions. She had done only what he had forced her to do by his own behavior.

And still, he couldn't seem to stop standing outside it, focusing only on his own concern.

The holoprojection -- cast across the galaxy -- showed the conference room of the Death Star. He heard himself telling Tarkin that his plan would be ineffectual; he heard Tarkin saying that it could hardly be less effective than what had already been attempted. Anakin strained to hear something of a moral objection in his own words -- as Luke would, and as Ivva wanted to -- but her heard only cold, rational judgment. True judgment, he still thought (moral concerns aside, Tarkin had been a plain fool about Alderaan), but not moral judgment. The fact that the objective truth and the moral truth happened to be the same was mere coincidence.

"...decided to test this station's destructive power on your homeworld of Alderaan."

On the holo, Leia ran forward and said, "No, you can't! Alderaan is peaceful," and for a second, Anakin had the confused impression that he was picking up emotions from the projection. Then he realized that it wasn't the holo. It was Leia, on the dais, reliving it in all its details.

He reached out to her with his feelings, and her back went suddenly straight. He could feel her recoil, and between them he saw himself put a hand on her shoulder. Leia. Leia, I'm sorry.

She reached back tentatively, and Anakin didn't think anyone else would notice that something was wrong.

Not that they were looking at Leia.

Tarkin gave the order.

The blast went out from the Death Star.

And Alderaan was erased from the sky.

Anakin felt a wave of anguish rising in the city around him, and he didn't let himself block it out. He had no right to block it out.

Amidala covered her eyes when the blast went out. She'd known almost immediately. Palpatine had made a special trip to Camp 1A just to taunt her with it. But she had never tried to picture it, never let the image in. And she didn't want to.

She had loved Alderaan. Not as she'd loved Naboo, of course, but she had loved it. She owed it so very much. And had she never set foot on it, it would still exist.

When she opened her eyes, the holo showed floating rocks in darkness, and her heart tried to search through them. Was this on the plains? In the hills? Was that rock hidden under the sea, or at the base of Lake Melara?

And Bail. Which of those rocks had he been standing on when the heavens turned against him? Saché had been gone for several years by then, but Bail was there. And all her other friends, the people who had hidden her as she made her way to the sanctuary of the palace with a crying baby in her arms. How many of those had figured out the truth about Leia and been wise enough not to tell?

Where were they, among the floating stones?

She wanted comfort, but she couldn't bear Ani's touch, not with the pixels of light still hovering in the air. He could have stopped it. He should have stopped it. How could Ivva be using this for defense?

"Enough," Leia said.

The holo discontinued, and Ivva looked relieved. "It is evident from the record," she said shakily, "that not only did Lord Vader not order this attack, but he did oppose it."

"Very well," Leia said tightly.

"Your Highness," Ivva said, and no one corrected her, "I'm sorry for the display. But there is a sentiment in the public, a belief that Lord Vader should be punished for this crime, which he did not commit, because there are so few survivors of the Death Star left to blame."

Leia's voice was thick. "Do you have any further questions for this witness, Counselor?"

"No."

"Counselor Umbuimi?"

Vali nodded and came forward. "Mr. Merlor, why did you bother to make up a story to leave the Death Star?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You approached Lord Vader to leave, and you made up a story which you believed would appeal to him. Why did you do this? He wasn't in command of the Death Star."

"Well, he was... Well, it was clear that if I had his permission I would be unimpeded."

"And if you didn't, you certainly would be."

"Well... "

"In fact, wasn't it fairly common knowledge that if Lord Vader was opposed to something, it didn't happen?"

"Objection," Ivva said, not looking up.

"Sustained," Leia answered, in the same tone.

Vali nodded. "Very well. In your experience, did you ever see a situation in which Lord Vader made an attempt to stop something and didn't succeed?"

Merlor sighed and looked at his feet. "No," he said.

"No more questions."

Ivva was shocked at herself.

She wasn't depressed, she wasn't castigating herself for this move, she wasn't even thinking about Alderaan.

She was just angry.

Really angry.

She brushed past Vali without acknowledging her and stopped in front of Merlor. "Mr. Merlor," she said, "did you carry a blaster?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's a simple question. Did you carry a blaster?"

"Um... yes... standard issue."

"And you carried this blaster on duty?"

"Of course."

"Well, why didn't you stop them from firing?"

A long, slow pause. "Excuse me?"

"You had a blaster. You knew where the ignition room was. Oh, for that matter, why not just go to the main reactor. Why didn't you stop the propulsion crew before they even entered the Alderaan system?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You had a blaster. Did you not know how to fire it?"

Merlor just opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"Objection!" Vali shouted. "Is there a point to this?"

"Is there?" Leia asked.

"Your Honor, there were thousands of people on board the Death Star. There would have been at least forty who knew what was happening at Alderaan. Every single one of them was armed. So were all the ones who might have gotten a sneaking suspicion. For that matter -- " Ivva stopped, suddenly not wanting to take the step that was next on the tip of her tongue.

Leia was looking at her implacably. "For that matter...?" she prodded, her voice honed to a sharp, cutting edge.

Ivva closed her eyes, so she wouldn't have to look when she said it. "For that matter, if you had given them a military base in the first place, it wouldn't have happened."

"Objection!" Anakin yelled from the box. "Get back here, Ivva!"

Leia ignored him, as she normally did when he spoke out of turn. "I am quite aware of that. What is your point, Ivva?"

"I'm sorry, your Highness."

"Apology accepted. What is your point?"

"That the number of people who could have intervened is in the thousands, yet only my client is being charged with not intervening. Why not try Mr. Merlor here? Or you? Or any of the hundreds or thousands of others who could have picked up a blaster and killed Tarkin?"

Anakin sank back into his seat behind her. She could see the motion out of the corner of her eye. She was going to get a lecture later.

"Am I angry at him for just standing there? Yes. I'm as angry as anyone else out there. But I ask the court -- and the public -- to think carefully about what they are suggesting. The only way to stop it, other than Tarkin's, would have been either a massive refusal on the part of Imperial troops, or a pre-emptive strike -- an execution for a crime that had not yet been committed. Are we as a Republic going to punish him with one hand for unfair and violent judgments, and with the other punish him for failing to administer the same?" She turned to the court. She was really going to go through with it. "When Hillo Needa came and spoke about her husband being executed, when Elshava Ozzel demanded justice for blood summarily shed, the public and this court agreed that those acts were despicable. Yet the action you wish him to have committed here would be the same. The only way Vader could have stopped Tarkin from destroying some world -- maybe not Alderaan, but some world -- would have been choking the life out of him before he gave the order. Is that seriously what we're all suggesting here?"

The court was quiet, and Ivva could hear her own quick heartbeat and rapid breath. Things seemed shaky in her eyes. She rarely lost her temper. She didn't think she'd convinced a soul, but she felt so much lighter, just rolling that stone away from her heart. A part of her had thought that it all would have been better if Vader had murdered Tarkin. If anyone had. But somehow, as she'd watched the holo, her eyes had not focused on the tall figure in black robes. They'd shifted from face to face, all of them intent, none except Leia's troubled. And she'd caught herself thinking, Well, why doesn't he just kill them all?

And she'd recoiled from the thought as soon as she understood it. She had to try to make other people understand it.

She may not have succeeded, of course.

But they'd heard.

Vertash's hand was gripping the edge of the long seat, and his face was pale beneath his blotchy freckles.

Kit understood Ivva's argument -- that everyone was as guilty as Ani, and therefore to lay this particularly at his doorstep was ludicrous at best -- but it was stabbing poor Vertash right to the heart. He always held a sneaking suspicion that his father might have some responsibility, but to have it dragged out for all the galaxy...

Kit put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and squeezed. There was no reaction, except for a slight lessening of the tension. He leaned over. "Tash, let's get out."

He nodded.

They stayed low and walked quietly down the aisle. No one was paying them any attention, and it was better that way. The hall was blessedly shadowy when they got outside. Kit slipped them into a small semi-circular alcove, and drew the curtain along the flat side.

Vertash collapsed into the bench, laid his head down on the table and wept.

Kit just sat beside him, hand on his neck, and waited for the wave to pass. Vertash had never been shy about his grief -- apparently, it hadn't been a hang-up on Yirisu -- but he hadn't shown it for a long time. After awhile he sat back shakily. "Guess that was about the worst of it, huh?"

Kit sighed. "I don't know, Vertash. I think so."

"Do you think she watched it down there in the Alderaanian quarter?"

"Probably. But I can't think how it would change what she knows about you, or your parents."

"Why didn't my father join the Rebellion?"

"Would it shock you to know that I never joined the Rebellion?"

"I... well, no, I never thought about it. I never figured you were on either side."

"I suppose I wasn't, by the time you knew me. But I supported the Empire in the beginning. Things were very wrong with the Old Republic. The Empire promised to change it. Your father... he may have still believed the promises. Or he may have thought he could change things better from inside than from outside."

"Or he may have stayed because of Mom and me. To keep us safe." Vertash was looking at his hands. "It could have been -- "

"If you say it could have been your fault, Tash, I will be angry."

"But -- "

"If your father only chose to stay with the Empire to keep you and your mother safe, then that makes him the victim of a horrible dilemma forced on him by the Empire, and you, guilty of nothing at all."

The corners of Vertash's mouth twitched, and he tried to smile. "I guess it's easier if I think I could have done something about it. Like not being born or something. I don't like it when nothing I do makes any difference."

"It's not easier. If you keep asking what might have been, what could have happened... you'll spend your whole life making up different stories that can't happen."

"Did you?"

Kit nodded. "A hundred times. I still do it. What if I'd kept writing to Ani while he was in training? What if I'd told Vader what I guessed about Luke? What if I had never supported the Empire in the first place, and fought with the resistance in the beginning?"

"Would it have been better?"

"I don't know. Maybe. The point is, Tash, that's something we can't know. And if you stare at all the impossible possibilities, you'll just freeze up. And Tash?"

"Yeah?"

"There was nothing you could have done. You were a kid. You were nowhere nearby. Kerea knows that. And so do you."

On the plain, Dritali dropped the microwelding tool she'd been holding, and uttered a short scream. Her hands buried themselves deeply in her hair. Luke's instinct was to reach out and soothe her mind, but the wave of feeling surging through the Force made any action like trying to steer a paper skiff through a sandstorm.

Ivva had gone through with it. She'd showed the security reel, and it had been broadcast throughout the galaxy. Outrage was there, and hunger for revenge, and fear, but here, this close to Theed and its large concentration of exiles, every other emotion was overshadowed by an anguished wave of homesickness, an eternal hunger that could never be sated.

Focus.

Luke closed his eyes, found his own presence in the fabric of the Force, and extricated himself from the maelstrom around him. It wasn't easy; the emotions were strong and they pulled at him. He also didn't think it was a good idea to shut himself off from feelings... but he also couldn't let them overwhelm him. At last he felt separate from it. He visualized himself hovering over a turbulent river, and scanned the surface for his padawan.

Dritali's presence was easy to find, if not particularly easy to visualize in his milieu. He called for her, and reached for her, and she grasped his mind desperately.

Relax. Concentrate.

She didn't for a moment, and Luke thought she would pull them both back into the storm. But at last, she understood that she wasn't trapped. She let Luke pull her up.

He opened his eyes. Dritali was sitting beside the forgotten lightsaber components, her skin sallow and her eyes wide. "What was it?"

"It was Ivva's demonstration," Luke said, but he wasn't sure how to follow it up. Would it be right to talk about it, or to teach her focus by turning her mind back to her lightsaber? Would the first course lead to understanding the nature of the Force, or to some kind of overwhelming emotional scene for Dritali? Would the second teach her that she had to be able to keep focused on what she was doing, or would it seem like he was telling her to shut out the pain of the galaxy for the sake of doing a minor errand?

He wondered idly if there would ever be a time when he felt like a Jedi Master, and wasn't constantly questioning his own decisions. Well, what had Obi-Wan done?

(I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voice had suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced... well, you'd better get back to your training.)

Luke hadn't taken that as permission to ignore other people's pain. So he said, "Dritali, you need to finish what you started."

She nodded tightly. "Yes, Master."

No argument, no questioning of it. She trusted him.

He hoped he was getting it right.

Han hadn't really been making a practice of watching the damned trial, but Isabel insisted on tuning in one of the newsbands as they entered the Naboo system. It seemed to be distracting her from her own grief, at least a little, so he let her do it.

Because he hadn't been following closely, he hadn't known what Ivva had planned for today, and when Isabel banged her little fist on the control panel and cried, "Is Ivva crazy? She can't show that!" he had no idea what she was talking about.

Then he recognized the world hovering in the air above the gameboard. It was the size of Isabel's head here, and she seemed to looking it in the eye. There was a trapezoid shape around it.

A viewport.

It was Alderaan, and he was seeing it from the Death Star.

And he was hours from Leia.

He saw her struggling there, a younger Leia who still had her world, still was innocent of her heritage... well, mostly... and he saw Vader pull her back. Good thing, too. If she'd attacked Tarkin, someone would have shot her.

Then there was a bright flash, then Alderaan was gone. The rocks blew out toward the edge of the projection and disappeared. The motion on the battle bridge seemed to have stopped, though the holo was still running. Leia had quieted, almost catatonic. Vader's hand remained on her shoulder, his thumb on the back of her neck. Slowly, she bent her head forward, leaning back a little. Someone who didn't know better would think that Vader was offering her comfort in her bereavement and she was taking it.

To Han, she just looked beaten. That had been only hours before he'd met her. She'd recovered quickly. He hadn't ever imagined that look on her face, that close.

The little image lifted its head again, looking like she was carrying a few loads of pure lead rolled up in those silly buns she'd been wearing when she was captured. She did not pull away from Vader.

Then the projection ended, and a reporter came on to do analysis.

Isabel flipped the projector off in disgust. "Stupid. I'm not losing Ani, too."

"What is it with you and him, anyway?" Han asked, wanting neither to discuss his concern about Leia nor hear Isabel's opinion of Ivva's tactics.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's going on? Why are you doing whatever you're doing?"

She shrugged. Her pigtails bobbed jauntily. "I like him," she said. "That's all. I always liked him."

She apparently considered this the end of the conversation, because she turned her chair around, and turned on one of the flat-screen games in the wall.

Han stood, absently mussed up her bangs (and was rewarded with a glare and a grin), and went back to the cockpit.

It was time for him to get back to Theed, to his wife, who would need him.

Kerea finished talking to the Alderaanian healer, who'd been more than happy to share her knowledge. It seemed the woman didn't care about the zealous diatribe the grey robes had made against Kerea's association with the son of an Imperial. She had gladly offered to teach Kerea the basics of medicine.

"You know, my dear, if you truly wish to pursue a career in healing you should look for a university. What I have to offer can't compare with the database available there. Perhaps on Coruscant?" The woman's kindly expression reminded Kerea of her mother's and she had to push back the misery before she answered.

"I... I can't leave yet. There's someone here... I... Well, I have obligations to my adopted family I have to meet before I could even consider leaving." What would Tash and Kit think if she told them she wanted to go to Coruscant to study medicine? How could she ever bear giving them up? "Uh... maybe later. If you don't mind, could I come back later, before we leave for Tatooine?"

"Of course. You're still young. You have plenty of time to make such an important decision. It's not something you undertake lightly."

Like committing one's life to another. Oh, Tash... Will you understand?

"Thank you again for your time, Healer Merida. I'll try to return in the next couple of days." She made her farewells and retrieved Pippa from playing with the healer's daughter, about the same age as Kit's newest acquisition.

"Are we goin' home, 'Rea?"

"In a bit. I have to go to the market place and look for some cloth. I've promised to design Prince Lando's clothing and I haven't even begun. Want to help me pick out some things?" she offered.

"Can I?" the little one asked, bouncing in her excitement.

"Sure, but we need to hurry. I'm pretty sure the court'll be out to recess soon. Maybe we can pick up some lunch on the way. Okay?"

Kerea took Pippa's hand and headed back into the market place. They passed a vidscreen, showing the court proceedings. Kerea couldn't keep herself from looking at the images displayed. A small crowd had gathered beneath the screen and the place held an almost eerie silence as the events leading up to, as well as, the actual destruction of Alderaan. Was that really Anakin up there? That terrifying creature clad in black, his face hidden behind a mask? It didn't seem possible, yet she knew it for the truth. But wait... He just stood there, holding back the Princess from the nearly skeletal looking man in grey as he ordered the Death Star to test its weapons on Alderaan. Then the beam and her peaceful blue and green world shattered into so much space debris. She didn't realize she wept until Pippa spoke up.

"Was your momma and daddy on Alderaan, too, 'Rea?"

Somehow, she managed to answer the innocent question. "Yes, Pippa. I'd run away because I'd had a fight with them. I never got to tell them how sorry I was... Never told them how much I loved them."

All my fault. I should have been there beside them. With my sister... I should be the one dead, not them.

Pippa squeezed her hand. "Don't cry, 'Rea. Your momma and daddy wouldn't want you dead. They'd be glad you're here. My aunt told me that's why I'm still here."

Kerea fell to her knees and hugged Pippa for a moment, allowing her tears to fall on the tiny, wise girl's shoulders. If she could only believe her words. The older girl sniffed, wiped her face and eyes and rose.

"Come on. We have work to do."

After they got a quick bite to eat, she lost herself in the market place's cloth vendors' stalls, picking and choosing exquisite fabrics for the Prince. He had told her cost meant nothing and she took him at his word. Heavy brocades in deep blues and greens for the over tunics, gauzy muslins in slightly lighter tones for the shirts, matching jersey cloth for the pants with contrasting stripes on the legs would serve as his trousers. In her mind, she considered designs for Lando, discarding the outrageous and settling on something more traditional. Something the Naboo Prince would have worn fifty years before.

Her and Pippa's arms bulged with packages as they made their way back to the palace. To her surprise, as they passed through the Alderaanian quarter, people greeted her kindly. She hadn't expected that after the spectacle the gray robe had made and what with the Princess' intercession, Kerea had thought they'd resent her. But it wasn't to be.

"Here. Let me help you," offered an older gentleman, taking most of the packages from the girls.

"You don't have to--"

"I know, but it's the least I can do for a fellow survivor," he told her, a twinkle in his eyes.

Kerea shrugged and returned his smile, then led the way back to her quarters. When they reached the palace grounds, Kerea saw Kit and Tash perched on a low wall. Tash looked like an AT-AT had run him over.

"Would you mind?" she asked Pippa and her new friend. "I really need to talk to someone. Pippa, can you show... What's your name?"

"Georg Slada..."

"Could you show Mr. Slada where our quarters are? I'll be there in a little bit."

Pippa straightened her thin shoulders with pride at the task. "Sure. Come with me, Mister." She marched off, the man in tow, his arms filled with all the packages and a grin on his face.

Kerea gnawed her lip, worrying not only about giving Pippa such responsibility, but how Tash had taken the display of the Death Star's power. Its destruction of her homeworld...

Kit looked up and caught her gaze. He squeezed Tash's shoulder, murmured something to him, then retreated back into the building. She could only guess he knew Tash and she had a lot to work on.

"Hey..." she began.

Tash refused to meet her eyes. "Guess you saw it in the square, huh? I'm surprised you want anything to do with me after that."

"Oh, Tash!" Without another word, she sat beside him, hugging him tightly and laying her head on his shoulder. "You not responsible for what happened. And your dad couldn't have really done anything. We both know that's true."

"But if he hadn't joined the Imperial Navy... If he'd joined the Rebellion instead--"

"Hush! He did what he thought the right thing to do. Stop blaming yourself and him for what happened to Alderaan. That's just as silly as me thinking if I'd stayed it wouldn't have happened... or at least I'd be dead, too." To her surprise, she realized the truth in her words. Her guilt over leaving wouldn't solve anything. She'd be better off trying to make her parents' memories proud with her life, not keep rehashing what she couldn't change.

He didn't reply to her reasoning, just turned in her arms and buried his head in her shoulder. She held him, not saying anything else, rocking him as if he were her child, not her beloved. Shudders passed through him and he held her so tightly she began to fear she'd bear bruises. Then, when she thought to pull away, Tash took a deep breath and sat up, though he didn't let her go.

"You're so good, 'Rea. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my anchor. You keep me from drifting away into oblivion."

Her face heated in embarrassment at his words and she lowered her eyes, certain she could never live up to his expectations. "You're the one who's special, Tash. You've made me realize how much I have to live for."

"Heh... Mutual admiration society, anyone?" He grinned at her, the traces of his tears shining through his amusement.

She laughed with him, then leaned forward to kiss him. With a quick look around to make certain no adults would spy on them, Tash returned her caress, then leaned back a bit to cradle her face and stroke her jaw with his thumbs.

"Precious one," he whispered.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "We'll see how precious you think I am when I tell you what I have planned." After a quick hug, she slipped out of his arms and ran toward the palace, Tash hot on her heels, demanding to know just what she meant.

"Are you okay?" Han muttered, putting his arms around her.

Leia sighed and sank into the embrace. "Better than I thought I'd be. I got through it. They got through it. No riots in the streets. I was half-expecting it. Falor Seranal is still around... "

"No one's taking him seriously."

"Maybe not. I don't know. It's all so... raw. I can't explain it in any other way. It's like a huge, exposed wound, and we're prying at it. Seranal is offering to cover it up with a healthy dose of outrage, and... well, Iw as afraid that they would take him up on it."

"But they didn't." He kissed her forehead. "Your people are still pretty much... "

"Alderaanian."

"Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but yeah."

"Thank the Maker for it. I wasn't expecting you back."

"Tashin died."

Leia sighed, and looked toward the door. "Poor Isabel. How is she?"

"I don't know. She hasn't talked much about it. She was watching the trial as we came back in. Talking about Ivva and your father. She's hardly said anything since Tashin slipped away." He sat down. "Don't let it fool you though. She thought she could save him. She's mad as hell at herself for not being able to."

"What's she going to do now?"

"Maybe we could take her. I'd say your father could -- she seems real attached to him -- but... "

"But you don't think it's a very good idea to put her with someone who could quite conceivably end up in a prison camp for the rest of what's likely to be a rather short life?" Leia crossed her arms against a chill, and stood by the window. "I wish I could say it wasn't a possibility. And she may like you, but I don't think she's terribly fond of me. Maybe Mother... "

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm... well, I'm judging this business and she has very definite ideas about how it should come out. I haven't agreed with her."

"She likes you fine."

Leia didn't answer him. She could see Isabel's face in her mind, sitting there in the courtroom. What will she do if I have to sentence him to prison? What will those grey eyes look like then?

But it was pointless. Isabel's opinion of her was second to Mother's -- how Leia dreaded Mother's reaction to an unwanted verdict! -- and even Mother's opinion couldn't influence her.

There were only three witnesses left. Kit Binai would be tomorrow. Then Luke. Then, if Ivva could talk him into it, Father. Leia had a good idea of what each of them would say. And the verdict was starting to take shape.

Oh, please, Luke, Kit... say something, anything. Don't make me think about what to do with Father. Don't make me decide it.

"Where's Isabel now?"

"She went to your Mother. I guess they're at dinner. Should we join them?"

Leia nodded. Han put an arm around her shoulder, and guided her down to the Great Hall to eat.

They were the last of the family to arrive. Isabel was sitting quietly beside Mother, who was stroking her hair absently. Father was sitting across from her, his big hands wrapped around her little ones. Obviously, they'd been having a serious conversation.

Luke and Dritali were sitting a bit to the side, looking awkward, and Kit Binai sat beside Dritali. Kerea and -- what was the boy's name? -- hadn't made it in yet. Lando was there, too, finishing up some city business with the Gungan woman Tili. She was plain and business-like -- not to mention married -- but Lando always flirted with her. Leia was amused by how well she reacted to it.

"Leia," Luke said, standing, "we've been waiting for you."

"Sorry to keep you waiting." She went straight to Isabel. "I'm so sorry, Isabel."

Isabel gave her a wan smile. "Thanks. Can we not talk about it? I... well, I'll make sure he has a Naboo funeral. But can we not talk about it any more now? Please?"

There was a moment of very awkward silence, then Leia nodded, and chairs were drawn in to the table. Serving droids began to come. Isabel continued to cling to Mother, who comforted her easily.

A hot stab of jealousy went through Leia, and she fought to push it away. She glanced at Luke. He was also watching it, with an unreadable look on his face. She tried to read him, and found something like a steel wall. Which was enough to tell her without reading his mind what he was afraid she would find there. He was jealous, too.

At least we both know enough to realize that it's an absurd and unfitting reaction.

Kit Binai started talking first. "So, Prince Lando... what is this business with Kerea buying cloth for you?"

Han rolled his eyes. "You're not really going to wear those things she's been drawing, are you?"

"I am." Lando grinned. "As it happens, Kerea's been designing some ritual robes for me. I told her to go all out."

Mother looked up with some interest. "Kerea designs clothes?"

"You oughtta see 'em."

"I plan to."

Father laughed. It sounded a little forced, but he was trying to respect Isabel's wishes. "Get her out now, Kit, before my wife's wardrobe swallows her whole."

"And here I was thinking about warning Amidala not to let Kerea get started on it. She'll never see the end of it." Kit gave a strained smile.

Dritali picked it up more naturally, and Leia was reminded that the girl had spent her childhood at Imperial parties where such silly small talk in the presence of great suffering was the normal mode of conversation. "Kree's really talented," she said. "She makes a lot of things for us back at Sanctuary."

Kit tugged on her braid. "She's going to have to find a new model. Looks like that career of yours has gone by the wayside."

Dritali touched her scar. "I don't think I would have gotten very far anyway."

"I can fix that, you know," Isabel piped up. "Lots of people can. But I could probably take care of it now."

Dritali didn't look surprised, just... disappointed? Sad? Whatever the look was, it faded into compassion. "It's better if you don't," she said. "I decided a long time ago not to get rid of it."

"In heaven's name, why?" Mother asked.

Dritali looked profoundly embarrassed. "It's, well... Let's say it's the last thing my father gave me." She dug into her dinner, watching her hands as if the process of cutting her meat were the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.

No one said anything; there was nothing to say.

Dritali seemed to feel the weight of it. "It's just, well, you know... I should remember who I was. Who he was. It's that... Well, I can't very well forget what's written on my face, right?" She looked up and smiled nervously.

Lando changed the subject -- Dritali looked very grateful -- and the conversation went on. Something about starting to plant further out from the city, because things were actually becoming crowded. Leia wasn't sure. Her mind was partly on Isabel, and the awful thing that was making her want to prove she still had power. It was partly on Mother, whose eyes had taken on a kind of deep intensity that Leia associated with problem-solving. Behind the comforting face she was showing Isabel, her mind was obviously working on some cool and rational chain of thought.

But mostly, Leia's own mind was racing around the issue of her father, and of remembering who he was was and

(i can't very well forget what's written on my face, right?)

what was to become of him. Something was trying to come to her, and she was eager, very eager, not let it in.

She looked up.

Father was watching her impassively, his face as blank as his mask had been, which was oddly comforting to her. She tried a smile, and he looked away.

Vertash and Kerea slunk in, trying to remain unnoticed. But in the uncomfortable silence that descended after attempts at continuing small talk failed miserably, their arrival heralded nothing more than a few raised eyebrows. Both blushed and slid into their usual places beside Kit with murmured apologies for being late. Dinner continued in silence and when they finished, each bid the other good night and retreated to their own quarters and thoughts.

Han and Leia retreated to their quarters to reacquaint, while Kit herded Vertash, Kerea and Pippa back to their assigned rooms. Luke looked over at his parents... something fleeting passing between Anakin and his Jedi son, before he urged Dritali toward the nearly finished handmaidens' rooms for a few more meditation lessons.

Amidala sighed in relief as her son and his Padawan departed. She needed to talk to Ani and she didn't want anyone to hear what she had to say. He just sat there, studying her and she felt her face heat.

"What? Do I have food in my teeth or on my face?" she asked, vaguely disturbed at how he could make her feel the callow young girl she'd been when they first met.

He didn't answer her directly. "What's on your mind, Am?"

She hesitated, struggling to not yell at him. Finally, she composed herself enough to continue. "How could you do that today, Ani? Ivva has done everything in her power to help. She doesn't need you acting like that."

Ani slumped further in chair, looking as recalcitrant as he had in his first youth. Stubborn to the bone. She waited, not giving him the satisfaction of letting him off the hook. He grimaced and sat forward, clasping his hands between his knees and sighing deeply before he addressed her concern.

"Leia doesn't need any more guilt. And Lieutenant Merlor, though he might protest, wasn't a coward. Neither were any of the others. They knew the consequences of going against Tarkin. It doesn't make it any more right, what happened to Alderaan, just... "

He paused, throwing his head back, eyes closed, his face revealing nothing. "Of all those on the Death Star, I held the most power, next to Tarkin. I could have forced the issue with him. I could have done something to prevent it. I should have contacted the Emperor... at least attempted to tell him of my concerns. That the useless destruction of a peaceful planet would do little to further Imperial interests against the Rebels..."

His voice trailed off. Then he opened his eyes and met hers with his piercing blue gaze... the one that seemed to see through to her heart. "I have to talk to Ivva, Am. Somehow... some way... I have to atone for this. No matter what my daughter decides to do. I have to see this through."

Amidala put her hands over his white knuckled fists. "I know, Ani. But Ivva was right. You couldn't have done any more than any of the others could have. It isn't right to prosecute you for something you had no real power over."

Unspoken between them the words... When there's so much you did have power over that you refused to see and do something about...

Ani relaxed some, turning his hands over to hold hers, then leaned forward to give her a brief brush of lips against her own. She wanted to cling to him, despite her earlier anger and anguish at seeing Alderaan's fate and how her daughter had suffered. Instead, she allowed him to pull away, stand and leave her to face his defense attorney. That, in itself, would prove a most interesting conversation. Almost, she wished she were a fly on the wall.

Sunset had begun to paint the Naboo sky with brilliant pinks and oranges among the clouds as Ani headed toward Ivva's quarters. His ever-present guard trailed behind him, not really pressing him when he told them of his destination, just there. Reminiscent of his entourage that followed him as Vader when he moved from world to world, ship to ship, station to station. There to guard, there to watch. Despite his power as Vader, Ani had always suspected Palpatine never entirely trusted him and kept a close eye on him. Perhaps by the very nature of the Sith, mistrust prevailed, even between Master and Apprentice as both knew the time would come for a confrontation for the position of supremacy.

Now, the guard stood between him and a disquieted populace... more protection than security against his escape. He felt grateful for them, aware many would just as soon he suffer the same fate as he had consigned others to in his incarnation as the Dark Lord of the Sith. His footsteps slowed as he approached Ivva's place and he collected his thoughts. He must let her know the reasons behind his protest today, why he felt he must not allow her to attack those who might cast a less than favorable light on his actions in the past.

The door swung open just as he'd raised his fist to knock on it. Ivva stood there, still dressed in her Alderaanian white... the same style Leia had worn when he'd captured her on her ship and taken her to the Death Star. He swallowed a painful lump and managed a weak smile.

"May I enter, Counselor?"

Ivva dipped her head and stood aside for him to pass by her into the room. Two guards positioned themselves outside her door, which she closed with a resigned sigh. Then she turned to him, a deep, burning anger in her gaze. One he recognized. One he felt certain he'd harbored for many years beneath his mask.

"We need to talk," he began.

"Indeed," she agreed. "I need to know why you object to me defending you. What do you expect me to accomplish if at every turn you obstruct and refute what I do? Or is that your aim? To see me fail?" She bit back her words and he knew she kept unsaid much of what she felt.

To grind yet another Alderaanian into dust...

He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off.

"I apologize for my outburst today, but not for my anger. I'm angry that you were on the Death Star and that my world no longer exists because of it... because of Tarkin. But I'm also angry that you've decided you know better what is best for you than anyone else." She paced before him. "How dare you? Ask me to defend you and then thwart me at every move. So I've made tactical errors, but you've not helped one bit."

Ani let her wind down, watching her stalk over to the window to stare sightlessly out at the deepening night. He'd come to lecture her on her inappropriate diatribe against Fineal Merlor and instead had a lecture administered to him for the second time tonight. A grin began to spread across his face, one that Ivva caught as she whirled on him.

She expected him to bite her head off and there he stood, silently laughing at her.

"No, no. That's not the way of it, Ivva. I asked for you because I felt you'd do the best you could and yet no one could accuse you of being prejudiced in my favor." After all, the Empire destroyed your world. "I'm flattered that you've defended me so strongly. That you've put aside your own interests to provide the best defense you could. I just don't want you to make it seem that I did what I did out of altruistic motives. Anything but. I was a monster in many ways. I'd walled myself off so entirely from others I'd managed to rationalize just about everything I did."

To his surprise, tears filled her eyes. She blinked several times and swallowed convulsively.

"Anakin Skywalker, I know you were anything but a saint, but you also weren't the bogeyman you'd like everyone to believe. I've come to believe the Emperor often used you for the awful things he couldn't do or wouldn't do himself. I'm not saying you should get off entirely, but that the court can't find you guilty of all the evils of the Empire. In many ways, you were as much a victim as those on Alderaan."

That left him speechless for a moment. That she saw him that way amazed him. Am... Well, she was still his wife and though it often floored him that she still loved him, it wasn't an entirely astonishing. Leia's ambivalence he expected, would have been disappointed if she didn't feel that way. Luke's love... well, that he felt stemmed a great deal from Amidala's genetics. That peaceful calm and understanding nature certainly didn't come from him. Leia... Now there he sensed a kindred spirit, in fact, that perhaps had been what had drawn him to her in her childhood. He sighed. Now where did Ivva fit into this?

"Can you see my position?" she finally asked him after the moments stretched on.

He nodded, aware she must see how her statement bemused him. "I give you that, though I still don't completely understand your reasoning. All I ask is that you not defuse the impact of a witness' testimony the way you did Merlor's today. The poor man feels bad enough about leaving the Death Star before its annihilation. Indeed, I had hoped he would have made his way to the Emperor, though now I realize that would have proved futile."

"Then let me do my job, Anakin. I know what I'm doing."

She stood there, hands on hips, reminding him very much of a younger Leia, confronting him with her objections to the Empire's injustices. He relented. Ivva had done what she felt the right thing to do and perhaps he had no call to protest her methods. Methodology had never been his strong suit as witnessed by his past.

"Very well. I can only pray those you call next won't suffer as intensely as Fineal. He certainly squirmed enough today." Anakin extended his hand. "I trust you, Ivva. Forgive me?"

Her shock stood out only a moment before she put her hand in his. "Of course, or I never would have agreed to defend you. Second chances don't come around much. Every one of them should be given every opportunity to succeed. Now, go back to your family and let me prepare for tomorrow."

Anakin found Luke in the handmaidens' quarters when he got back, repairing a lighting fixture that kept malfunctioning. "Hello, Father. Hope I'm not intruding."

Anakin shook his head, though Luke wasn't looking at him. "It's fine. I was just going to work on the hearth."

"It's good work. Mother will love it."

"I think she's found it already." Anakin sighed. He'd hoped to surprise her with it, and see her face, but at some point over the last week or so -- during Isabel's netherworld trial, he thought -- she'd started looking at him like she knew a secret. It was that small smile that he saw on her face sometimes, the I know something that makes me happy, but I'm waiting for the right time to share it look. It was a look that made him sad.

(And angry. Don't forget angry. She's keeping secrets again, and it makes you think of other secrets, and those secrets make you wonder about a whole different life you might have had.)

"Father?"

"I'm all right. I have idiotic voices in my head, but I don't listen to them anymore. Where is Dritali?"

"I think she ought to spend some time on her own."

"What you both need is to get away from Naboo and your various ties and try to create a working master-padawan bond." It was out before he planned to say it, and he regretted it immediately. He was no Jedi Master, and Luke needed to find his own confidence, his own ways of doing things. "I apologize. You must do what you feel is--"

"--right, of course."

Luke was grinning when Anakin turned around, and he realized that he had begun to use one of Obi-Wan's favorite phrases. You must do what you feel is right, of course meant--without exception--I am right and you are wrong, but I will give you the opportunity to discover that on your own. Anakin laughed. "I'm glad to know that not everything about Obi-Wan changed."

Luke went back to the light fixture. "At any rate, when this trial is over, I'm sure there will be many things to do."

"I'm sure there already are."

"I'm at the discretion of the Senate. They haven't made any requests."

"They will. What do you have her doing in the meantime?" Anakin considered making a jibe about Dritali's obvious crush, but it didn't feel right. It was beginning to fade into something more proper, and Luke was genuinely embarrassed that it existed at all.

"It's something she started on her own. Since before she met us. Well, me, anyway. She started trying to find the bits and pieces of the Temple library that survived... what happened."

Something in Anakin's mind tried to call up the guilt that he normally felt, but for once--for a mercy--something else came up first: I can help! He shook his head. "She doesn't need to do that."

"We really should find it, and--"

"No, Luke--she doesn't need to do that. That will take forever. I wish you'd told me she was up to that. I... well, I'm not proud of any aspect of it, but I commandeered a large part of the Temple's library into my own private collection before it was destroyed. It's in my house on Coruscant. I'll take you there... when all this is over, one way or another. I think that no matter what Leia decides, she will be able to see her way to allow that at least."

"Wow. I wish I'd told you, too. Or that you'd offered."

"I just didn't think of it. I mean, I did think of my library once, but, well, it never occurred to me. I know that sounds unbelievable--"

"You've had a lot on your mind. It's okay."

Anakin felt absurdly pleased with himself for a moment. He'd been able to actually provide something concrete that Luke needed. Granted, he had no business hoarding all of it in the first place, but he had prevented it from being destroyed, and now it was here, and he could give it to his son.

You could have saved more than records if you hadn't been such a deluded fool.

Yes, all right. Fine. Duly noted.

He couldn't (and shouldn't) recapture his pleasure at having a gift to give Luke, but neither would he ruin it by now dragging Luke into his own purgatory again. "How long do you plan to train her?"

"I don't know. I can't spend ten years with her, but I'm not going to give her my crash course, either. Five years, maybe. I don't know. I guess... until she knows as much as I do." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Which probably won't take long."

"You know more than you think you do, Luke. Your skills are formidable, and your background has taught you a great deal."

"My background?"

"Tatooine taught you patience, Luke."

"Uncle Owen wouldn't agree with that."

"And Owen taught you dedication and acceptance. And Beru taught you compassion."

Luke started to say something, then looked away. He sighed heavily. "You know, I... I do miss them. I don't talk about it a lot. And it doesn't mean that I... "

"Luke, they raised you. I would be shocked if you didn't think of them. For what it's worth, I think they were wisely chosen for you."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"That you think well of your guardians? It hadn't even occurred to me to be bothered by it."

Luke sat down on the window seat. "I still sense... discomfort."

"It's unpleasant, Luke. Thinking of my children having been raised by anyone else. I understand why, and it was the right choice. But it's the concept that disturbs me, not the particulars. In both cases, I believe your guardians were worthy people."

Luke ran a hand over his eyes. "I had to leave Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru where they fell." He leaned forward. "I wish I'd been able to go back."

Anakin sat down beside him. "I know, Luke. If it sets your mind at ease at all--and I don't suppose it does--I sent a squadron down to see that their ashes were properly interred as soon as I found out what happened."

"Thank you."

"You needn't thank me. I did not intend those deaths."

"Really?"

"Don't imagine altruism, Luke. They were the only people who knew where the droids would be. Killing them was unimaginably stupid."

Luke closed his eyes. "You executed the captain of the search team, didn't you?"

Anakin thought about a lie, then decided against it. "I would have, but there was no time."

"Of course. You had to get back to the Death Star."

"And question Leia."

This hung in the air. Anakin wasn't entirely sure what was fuelling this conversation on Luke's end. It was the first time they'd spoken frankly about his life as Vader, with no philosophy and no assurances of forgiveness. Anakin didn't know exactly how they'd gotten here from discussing Dritali's apprenticeship.

"Father, do you regret being raised by the Jedi?"

It wasn't the question Anakin had been expecting at all. "What?"

"Do you regret going to the Jedi? Being raised by Obi-Wan? Do you think it was the right thing?"

"That's a question with a lot of answers. But ultimately... no. I do not regret it. I would have some of managed differently, but Obi-Wan was a good guardian, and a kind man, if a bit distant. And growing up among others who could do extraordinary things was healthy. I don't think it's the only way to train a Jedi, but choosing to do it is one of the few things in my life about which I have no regrets."

And, to Anakin's great surprise, he discovered that this was true.

I have to get home soon.

Kit sighed. Now that he was under subpoena, he felt less inclination to stay of his own accord.

In front of him, a desk-sized holo showed one of the two large rooms that the smaller children used at Sanctuary. Kit had tried to give them their own small rooms, but, even back when there'd been enough space, the little ones were frightened to be by themselves, and took comfort in each other's presence. Jemmedki--a Wookiee girl who had arrived only a month before Kit had left for Naboo--was sitting up in bed, lazily grooming herself and yawning. Silgo, a Toydarian boy, kept diving on her, dodging her strong arms by flitting up toward the ceiling. Most of the rest were lumps on their beds, taking their afternoon nap in peace.

In the foreground was a young human woman, with dark hair and large pale green eyes. Gilesa Fre... one of Kit's first orphans. He'd found her after the Clone Wars, maybe just after Palpatine's rise, wandering in the desert, a half-starved toddler crying for her father. She still had that look in her eyes, though she was now in her late twenties and comfortably plump. Her arms were full of a wriggling Twi'lek child, who kept trying to reach into the lasers on their end.

"Want Kit!" the little girl cried, her fingers disrupting the transmission.

Kit leaned in closer, and spoke softly. "Now, Feeniz, you know better. You're going to burn your fingers doing that."

Feeniz sniffed and rubbed her stung fingers on her tentacles. "Want Kit," she muttered again.

Gilesa smiled apologetically. "She's afraid of the monster."

"Ah," Kit said. "Feeniz, where did you see the monster?"

Feeniz, now satisfied that her needs were being attended to, settled more securely in Gilesa's arms, and yawned extravagantly. "The window."

"I see." He looked at Gilesa. "Did we try our usual monster repellent?"

She nodded and winked. "Yes. And I checked under the windowsill. Feeniz says that this monster is invisible, unless you look right."

"Oh."

"Tash glasses," Feeniz said solemnly. "Could see him then."

Kit had no idea what "Tash glasses" were, so he called Vertash out of his room. The boy blinked owlishly--he'd obviously been almost asleep. Kit shook his head. "I don't suppose you've packed the glasses that Feeniz says you have. To see the monster outside her window."

He looked confused for a minute, then understanding dawned. He leaned over the projector. "Hey, Feen-bean, guess what?"

"What?"

"This is a magic transmitter. I hooked it with my glasses, so it can see anything I could. Gili, could you take it over to the window?"

The view shifted disorientingly, and Vertash grinned self-consciously at Kit while Feeniz was otherwise occupied. Kit mussed his hair.

The view settled on the desert right outside the window.

"Sweep it right," Vertash said. "And left."

The view moved like a pendulum, showing nothing at all (of course).

"Is he gone?" Feeniz asked somberly when Gilesa brought them back to the table.

"Well, Feen," Vertash said, unconsciously taking on the character of a biologist who often visited Sanctuary while he studied the Tatooine wildlife, "I don't think you had a monster there. I saw some little fairy footprints. I bet it's somebody who's there just to look after you and make sure no monsters get in."

Feeniz's eyes got wide. "Really? Just for me?"

"Just for you," Vertash said. "I bet she'll take care of all the rest, too. But you brought her, Feen."

Feeniz was too awed to speak anymore, and Gilesa tucked her in for her nap. "Thanks," she said. "Both of you. I'll have to get some of those magic glasses."

"They're handy," Vertash agreed.

"When are you coming home?"

Kit shook his head. "I have to testify tomorrow. After that... I really should come home. I'm not sure if Vertash and Kerea want to come with me."

Vertash gave him a troubled look.

"And Dritali?" Gilesa asked.

"Dritali is staying with her Jedi Master."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

They made a few more arrangements, then cut off the connection. Kit turned to Vertash. "You did well with that, Tash."

"Thanks."

"You're going to be a very good father someday."

"I've had two good examples."

Kit smiled, but there was something he needed to talk to Vertash about, and this opening was as good as he was going to get. "Tash... you'll be a good father someday, but... well, I don't think you should rush it."

He blushed deeply, until his face was almost the same color as his hair. "I um... " He slipped into a joking mode. "Is this going to be The Talk?"

"I'm not blind, Tash. I know what's going on. So, yes, I guess it's The Talk. It's not a very long Talk, though. It boils down to, don't be stupid. Don't rush things."

"I feel like we've been waiting forever."

"You're fifteen. I know it feels like forever, but it hasn't been, and it probably won't be. I think you and Kree are going to make it. And that means you have a lot of time to make decisions."

"Gotcha."

"Good. Now go back to sleep. Don't forget your magic glasses."

He smiled drowsily, and went back into his room. Kit leaned back in his chair, torn between pride in the boy and a nagging doubt that he would pay even a little heed to the advice he'd been given.

The night-bell sounded at the door, and he went to answer it, slipping outside rather than inviting whoever it was in. It turned out to be Ivva Japui. She was standing across the hall.

She was two years younger than Gilesa. Anakin was out of his mind if he thought this match could work. "I take it you're here about my testimony?" he asked.

She nodded. "For my own part, it's not going to be very dramatic. I need you to talk about the trust fund, and... well, Dritali wasn't the only one he sent to you, was she?"

"No. There were two or three over the years. Dritali's the only one he personally rescued." Or personally orphaned.

"Well, that's good. I guess where I'm worried is... well, we're sort of wandering around with you as a character witness. There'll be a lot of things that might come up as you speak. I'm a little concerned about how Vali will use the latitude. Are you a witness to... anything the prosecution would want witnessed?"

"Like his temper?"

"Like his temper."

"Yes. But I've seen him control it a lot more often than I saw him lose it."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ivva crossed her arms against a slight breeze. "Good. Then that's all there is. I'll see you in the morning."

DAY 15

Leia resumed her seat. It had only been a little over two weeks, but she felt as though she'd spent her whole life here, looking out across a see of unfamiliar faces, only to find her father's unnerving eyes meeting hers above all the tumult.

Ivva had four witnesses scheduled today, only one of whom was expected to take much time. The morning would be taken up by more two more Imperial officers and a politician Leia remembered vaguely from her Senate days; apparently Vader had opposed him on a measure dealing with the government version of what Lando had called "unorthodox labor practices." The afternoon would be taken by Kit Binai.

Leia found herself -- her daughter-self, not her judge/Chancellor-self -- looking forward to hearing Kit speak. In all her agonizing ruminations about her father, it had never occurred to her to ask anyone what he'd been like when he was a child. Maybe it wasn't a great interest of hers, but now that the opportunity was presenting itself, it intrigued her.

He'd told her once that he'd raced as a child -- she now knew he had been a pod racer on Tatooine -- and she knew in an intellectual way that he'd been a slave, but she knew almost nothing else. Had he been a bully? A leader? A follower? Had he liked to read or play sports? She could imagine all those things equally well, and, having seen the clone fairly young, she had a good idea of a face to put with each of the characters she imagined for him. Maybe she didn't have a pressing need to know those things. She didn't harbor any illusions that they would unlock the great mysteries of her father and her own identity, let alone shed any light on his guilt or innocence. But it would be nice to know where that troubled, stubborn, infuriating, beloved, and baffling man across the room had come from. And Maker knew, he would never remember it correctly for her.

(how can I forget what's written on my face?)

Leia blinked it away. Dritali's odd little question had kept recurring to her at odd, unpredictable moments.

Ivva swore in her first witness, and Leia listened as intently as she could. The man's testimony seemed to be of the general character-witness type that Ivva had been favoring. She had little hope of actually refuting most of the charges, so she'd adopted a strategy of showing them as possible wartime excesses of an otherwise decent human being. Well, maybe that was putting too fair a face on it. What Leia thought Ivva was trying to do was create a balance--virtues to weigh against sins, as if she could somehow tally the positives and negatives to come up with null... a clean slate.

This officer testified to Vader's beneficence in getting him into the Academy. Twenty-three others had written Leia with the same general gist. He gave me a future when I didn't have one.

To which Leia always fought the urge to say, Sure... serving him.

He was released, and the second officer stepped up. He testified to an admittedly heroic rescue when a reactor core had blown in the engine room of a Star Destroyer. He seemed less impressed by the fact that Vader had gone into the radiation than the fact that he apparently knew where the engine room was. "Most of the command staff never looked at us. But Lord Vader knew what we were doing, and commended us on it when we did it right."

On cross-examination, Vali asked him what happened when they did their jobs in a less than satisfactory way. The officer said that some were transferred, and Leia believed that was usually what happened, but his face and his body language spoke of a much greater fear.

The politician came next, and began his testimony with an extravagantly conciliatory speech, about having chosen the wrong side previously, but believing that he had done the right thing for his people. Leia tuned this out; he was stumping for re-election now that the Senate had been convened again. Vali finally objected. Ivva moved on to the central question for this witness, and was duly informed of Vader's opposition to slavery, which was hardly news to anyone, anyway.

Leia called a lunch recess after that. She'd expected to spend it alone in chambers, but the chime sounded almost as soon as she'd sat down.

Han peeked in, then put down a box of food. "Thought you might actually eat on your lunch break," he said. "You know, just for fun."

Leia laughed, and took a sandwich from the box. Her eating habits weren't nearly as bad as Han pretended, but she had skipped a meal or two along the way. Her face was getting a drawn look that she didn't care for at all. "I never figured I'd be playing hostess to the Darth Vader Loyalist Club. Do you know anything about the Academy business?"

"Nah," he said after a minute. "Nothing. I heard of it is all. Eat lunch."

"I wish I'd talked to Kit before this. I have a feeling that he'll leave soon."

"Yeah, I think so too. But... " He looked around with mock furtiveness. "Don't spread it around, 'cause it's top secret, but I hear there are ways that we can actually communicate from one planet to another. So if he went back to Tatooine, you could still talk to him. Depending on how much you're willing to pay, you might even be able to get some underworked pilot to fly you there."

She kissed his nose. "Do you think I could afford the fare?"

"You could probably work something out," he said, leaning in for a better kiss.

She pulled away and shook her head. "Bad timing. This isn't a very long break."

The rains were starting to taper off, but they'd left Theed in rich shades of green, with glistening leaves and a rushing river. The tunnel into New Otoh had been constructed with thought to the look of the river, and the current broke on the forcefield in a series of high, narrow waves, like a fountain.

Anakin had come up into the dusty room above the throne room--just a storage area, really--and found that he could see Theed in a wide and private panorama. He found that he couldn't look away from the glittering river, and he let himself slip into meditation on it.

Luke's arrival wasn't an interruption; his presence in the Force was both soothing and conducive to further meditation. For ten minutes, they sat together without saying anything.

"Nice view," Luke said, on no particular cue, but at what seemed like the right time.

Anakin pulled himself up from meditation, and nodded. "Yes. I was always fond of Theed. Calrissian has done an admirable job in restoring it."

Luke came forward, and stood closer to the window. "I'll never get used to all this water. I mean, I've been on a lot of worlds. Even Dagobah. But all seems... "

"Wasteful?" Anakin laughed. "I know."

"I was going to say 'foreign,' actually," Luke said. "But, yes, wasteful too. It's like watching Leia spend money. She always thinks she's not spending much. Well, at least when she thinks about it at all. But she'll buy something on a whim that Aunt Beru would have had to save for for months."

"She has it. In her point of view, she's being quite frugal, and spending almost nothing."

"I know. It's just different expectations. I've been thinking about Tatooine, since we talked yesterday. Maybe longer. It's funny. I look out there at a river and think about a desert."

"It's hardly surprising, with Kit preparing to testify. I have also found myself considering Tatooine frequently. What do you miss most about it?"

"Who said anything about missing?"

"Should I pretend to have read your mind, or admit that I just consider it obvious?"

Luke chuckled. "I guess it is."

"So...?"

"It'll sound stupid."

"I doubt it."

"Hot rocks."

"Rocks?"

"You know... they'd been lying on top of the sand in the sun. Sometimes, my hand would ache from working on the vaporators. You just pick up one of them, and it's this great dry heat. I don't know why, but that always used to make me happy."

"I can see that."

"What about you?"

"The sky. That's easy. It's awe-inspiring. Huge. I always... I recall as a child, I would just look up at it. You feel like you're part of this huge universe. But you feel so small, too. You don't need to meditate on Tatooine. You just need to look up."

"We haven't talked much about your time on Tatooine."

"It was all too brief." Anakin shook his head and laughed at himself. "What a thing to say about Tatooine! It's a far off backwater of a planet."

"It's still home."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

The silence came again, but Anakin could feel a question in Luke this time. It eventually came out: "Why didn't you come back? Why stay away all those years? Were you forbidden to have anything to do with it? Or...?" He shrugged. "I guess you had your reasons. But I've wondered."

"It's a fair question. I'm sure Kit will testify that Tatooine didn't leave my thoughts. But... I'm not certain I can explain this properly."

"Please try."

"Very well. The truth is, when I served the Dark Side, I was... frightened by beauty. I'm tempted to say that it was fear of the vastness of the universe, or my lack of ability to control it, or some equally facile nonsense. But in reality, it was the beauty itself that was troubling. I surrounded myself with things that were efficient, clean, and useful. But never beautiful."

"I don't understand."

Anakin pulled himself up onto the windowsill. "All right. I'll give you one piece of instruction as a Jedi master. I think the first sign you'll have that a student is in trouble is the he or she will suddenly cease to appreciate the beautiful for its own sake. She'll cease to take delight in things. When I first came back, Qui-Gon told me 'Joy is the road home.' I didn't understand him, exactly. Maybe I still don't, and I wish he would come correct me if I am in error" -- no response from any spirit accepted the invitation -- "but I think... I know... that it didn't mean that I should go out and dance at parties all the time. It meant... " He gestured out the window. "Real joy, Luke, is a quiet, unimpressive thing."

"Hot rocks."

"Or a perfectly blue sky. Or that streak of white in your mother's hair, or the way the way the sun hits her cheekbones."

Luke nodded. "She is beautiful. But that white streak is gone."

"I know. Has she mentioned to you why she dyed it? I find her lovely either way, but I am curious."

"She hasn't discussed it with me."

Anakin shrugged. It had been an idle question, and probably didn't deserve an answer. "It sounds trivial, of course. But it's important. When you feel joy--as at the sight of something beautiful, or the practice of a favorite skill--it is far more difficult to hold on to hatred and anger."

"Even at the self?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you sound... normal, Father."

"I would think you would consider this mood abnormal for me." He breathed in sharply, remembering because of the conversation to appreciate the feel of the air entering his lungs, then lowered himself to the floor to start heading back toward court. His guards apparently heard the movement; he heard them snap to attention on the other side of the door. "This afternoon, we're talking about Tatooine, and Sanctuary. I suspect Vali will find something to twist in Kit's testimony, but this is one of the rare cases where I have almost no regrets."

"Almost?"

"I regret that I didn't visit more. Things might have been different if I had. But what was done at Sanctuary is something I find I can take some degree of joy in. I helped, in a small way, to build something worthwhile in the midst of all the destruction. So I find that I am able to relax somewhat today. And I am grateful of it. Though I hope Kit doesn't end up paying for my temporary reprieve."

"What do you plan to speak to Kit about?"

Ivva looked over her shoulder. The Queen was leaning forward anxiously. She'd stopped wearing the utterly simple handmaidens dresses that she'd worn at the beginning of the trial, and today's gown was a wine-colored crushed velvet, with glittering white jewels forming a pattern on the bodice (Ivva was willing to bet that they weren't paste fakes). Her hair was piled into flattering curls, and a small red diadem rested on her forehead. She wasn't supposed to show up in court in her royal capacity, to avoid the appearance of ceding control on Naboo. Ivva thought she might well be toeing that line today, but she looked formidable and lovely. She couldn't help it... even when she wasn't publicly the queen, she exuded royalty like a subtle perfume.

"Ivva?"

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking. You wanted to know about Kit."

"Yes."

"He's a character witness. I plan to ask him about Anakin's patterns of behavior, and use him to suggest that there is more value in keeping Anakin here, and in some kind of freedom, than in secluding him in a prison where his better impulses are frustrated."

Amidala was quiet for a long moment. "Ivva, you've given up on trying to beat the charges, haven't you?"

"No, of course not!"

"You're thinking about sentencing."

"It has to be taken into consideration, Your Majesty. He... he doesn't deny some of the crimes. And they may not be outweighed. But I am not giving up."

She bit her lip. "You're not going to let Ani testify, are you?"

"He wants to... "

"Ivva, you know -- "

"I know he's my client."

"This is all so ridiculous. He's a Naboo citizen. I'll forbid extradition. I'll -- "

"No you won't, your Majesty."

"No, I suppose I won't. But I should talk to Leia. I should--"

"Your Majesty."

"I know, Ivva, I know. I just feel very powerless in all of this, and I don't much like it." She smiled thinly. "Don't worry. I know that's not the best aspect of my personality. I do my best to control it. But please don't let Ani testify."

Ivva sighed. "He's speaking the day after tomorrow, your Majesty. And I think it's his right."

"But he'll -- " She stopped talking and looked up. "My goodness. Look at that."

Ivva turned to the side door that the family used to get in and out of the throne room. She saw Luke coming in with someone that it took her a moment to recognize as her client. For one thing, he was smiling. For another, his back was unbent, and he moved without tension.

Amidala left the box, and went to him, pulling him into what looked like a very surprised kiss. Luke's eyes widened, then he just shook his head.

Anakin pulled away from his wife and kissed her nose. "Well, that as interesting."

"I figured I'd catch the mood while it lasted."

"Good thinking. You look beautiful."

"Is this what you two were like before?" Luke asked.

"No," Amidala said. "It's a lot better after thirty years."

The door behind the dais opened, and Leia came out, looking as drawn as ever, and Anakin's good mood faded as suddenly as it had appeared. It was like watching a great weight drop from the sky and settle on his shoulders. First, the look of dismay as he realized it was coming. Then the shoulders folded in, and the back bent. His eyes were cast down and his step slowed as he made his way to the defendant's box.

Leia looked down with great compassion (in Ivva's opinion, anyway), but didn't say anything. She took her seat, and the courtmembers began to come back in. Ivva told the bailiff's to summon Kit Binai.

As the court was getting itself in order, Ivva saw Leia's steady gaze on her father, and after awhile, Anakin returned it. Something passed between them, and Anakin relaxed, just a little.

Then the bailiff led Kit to the stand, and Ivva stood to swear him in.

Amidala sighed and sat down heavily beside her husband, surprised and ashamed by a sudden hot stab of resentment toward Leia.

This is an incredibly difficult thing that she's doing, and she's doing it well, and it is honorable, and you are proud.

True. But she was also uncomfortable. She often sat contentedly with Luke and talked to him about everyday life, but the last long and involved talk she'd had with Leia had been on Alderaan, on the subject of whether or not the bird who lived outside her window was really whispering secrets to her. Why?

At first, Leia had been in awe of her. Then Ani had come back, and Leia had been angry at both of them. Then she hadn't been angry, but, but...

But when she's in the room, Ani's whole mood depends on her. He seeks her eyes first, and responds to her emotions. And how does she answer the devotion? By judging him.

Amidala bit down on her own lip in disgust with herself. What an unworthy, pointless, and terrible way to think. It didn't in any way change the fierce love she felt for her daughter, the bright pride, the mad desire to search her face for the shapes of all the loved ones buried inside of her. But it shouldn't be there at all. Jealousy was an unattractive emotion even in normal situations. Jealousy of one's own daughter was revolting.

She resolved to talk to Leia later, and not about the trial. Maybe about Alderaan and the bird outside the window.

Ivva had finished swearing Kit in, and was pacing quietly in the open area, a custom she had when she wasn't sure where to begin. Kit was watching her with his deep patience. He was dressed in blue and tan, and Amidala could clearly see the child she'd met on Tatooine so many years ago. She reached over for Ani's hand, and he gave it easily enough. His thumb began tracing circles around her knuckles.

"How long have you known the defendant?" Ivva asked.

Kit leaned forward, as if giving an answer in a classroom. "I've known him since we were three. Forty years, give or take. We were both slaves to Gardulla the Hutt on Tatooine."

A murmur went around the courtroom, and Amidala tried in vain to remember whether or not that piece of information had been made public previously.

"How would you describe him?"

Kit smiled, the same bright, admiring smile he'd always had. "Ani was my best friend. He had a head full of impossible ideas. He found a way to make most of them happen."

"Ideas like what?"

"He wanted to race pods, so he taught himself. He wanted to be star pilot, and he became one. He wanted all of us to be free."

Ivva nodded. She wasn't going to pursue the question of the freeing of Tatooine's slaves, and neither was Vali. Too much ambiguity for either side to have a clear advantage, and at any rate, there were no charges related to that time.

"Tell us what you do now."

"I operate an orphanage outside Mos Espa. About forty children live there."

"And how did you come to be in this position?"

"Ani and I found the place when we were children. He decided it ought to be mine. No one seemed to object." He grinned. "At eight, it seemed perfectly reasonable."

There was fond laughter in the court. Bringing Kit had been a good idea. People wanted to like him, and gave him their affection easily.

"Relevance?" Vali called from her seat. "We're not trying his childhood, your Honor."

"Sustained," Leia said. "Counselor Japui, where do you intend to go with this?"

"Your Honor, my client has been portrayed solely in his function in the Imperial military--a military involved in a total war. I'd like to establish his actions outside that milieu. How did he behave toward civilians? Toward the most vulnerable citizens of the Empire?"

"And again," Vali said, "relevance?"

Because, Amidala thought. Because, because, because.

"Counselor?" Leia asked.

Ivva stood blinking, her feet tracing a paced pattern along a bar of sunlight. She was playing toward a sentence of course, and Vali and Leia both knew it, but she couldn't very well say so before the trial had even ended.

At last, she spoke. "Because of the nature of this trial, what we are doing, in essence, is weighing the life of the man in the defendant's box. We are asking if he is good, or if he is evil."

"Oh, please!" Vali stood. "Your Honor--"

Leia held up a hand, and Vali stopped moving forward. Leia's eyebrow was arched, and she was leaning forward slightly. "The court isn't here to decide the nature of a man's soul," she said. "But however poetically Counselor Japui has chosen to put it, I think her observation is true. Is this man more guilty than not guilty? It's a question of weighing. And in such a weighing, virtuous deeds should be taken into some account, though they will not expiate less virtuous ones. I'll let the testimony continue for now, and I'll hear your objections during deliberations. Does the prosecution object?"

Vali looked like she might, but ultimately, she just shook her head. "No. Prosecution withdraws the objection, but reserves the right to re-open it if this testimony goes too far astray."

"Noted for the record. Counselor Japui... return us to the time period in question, if you have a salient inquiry."

"Yes, of course." Ivva turned back to Kit. "Were you aware of Anakin Skywalker's identity as Darth Vader?"

"I wasn't at first. I received a trust fund from Vader, and began to investigate. It was anonymous, but one of the children at the time--Gilesa Fre--was good with computers, and she traced it to Coruscant and the Imperial Center. From there, I worked until I found out it was Vader."

"He acknowledged it?"

"The words were, 'A pittance. Use it wisely, and do not speak of it publicly.'"

"I take it that it wasn't a pittance?"

"Not a pittance." Kit shook his head, his eyes somber. "I grew more and more suspicious... the fund was generous and devoted entirely to Sanctuary, and almost no one knew about Sanctuary. I had to get past the idea that Ani was dead, but once I entertained the possibility that he wasn't, the identification with Vader was a simple matter of checking Vader's history and skills against the date of Ani's disappearance, and the skills he'd had at the time. Then Dritali Neral arrived, saying she came from Lord Vader, and wearing a token that only Anakin would have had."

"What token was that?"

"His mother's bracelet."

"I see. So he gave you money, and sent you an orphan."

Kit frowned. "It sounds cold, like that."

"But it didn't feel cold?"

"Your Honor," Vali began. "'Feel cold'?"

Leia nodded. "Counselor Japui, please clarify to the witness and the court precisely what you mean by the question."

"Yes, Your Honor. I used the witness's word, by which I assumed he meant that the donation of money sounded like a gesture to which no moral or emotional weight was attached. Am I right?"

"Yes," Kit said.

"Am I right in assuming that you did not consider this a true characterization of the act."

"Yes."

"What, if any, reasons do you have for your disagreement with the characterization?"

Good girl, Amidala thought. She'd actually managed to turn it into a legal question.

"Part of it was simply a sense," Kit said. "But it came from the fact that he gave... almost furtively. We've had many local donors over the years, some of whom I've accepted money from, others of whom I've turned away. The thing all of them had in common was a desire to make their actions public, to improve their images. One wanted Sanctuary to raise the children in a particular tradition, and to be re-named after his family. Another had members of the press accompany her when she made the transfer."

Amidala saw a few of the reporters rolling their eyes, and for the first time felt a hint of liking for them. They had their own job headaches.

"And this caused you to question their sincerity?"

"Not exactly. I think they really did want to give to the kids. But their motives were mixed?"

"And Vader's weren't?"

Kit sat back, his face thoughtful. He didn't speak for what seemed a long time to Amidala, but the cause seemed to be confusion. "The truth," he said at last, "is that I don't think Vader--Ani--precisely had a motive. He had an instinct to help me, and to help them. But he seemed embarrassed by it, and did his best to cover it up. It reminded me, for all the galaxy, of a respected businessman running for public office trying to hide a tryst with his secretary for fear of spoiling his image."

The court was briefly quiet as people tried to work out the image, then there was soft laughter. Amidala was amused to note that Ani was blushing and looking over his shoulder, as if he'd been caught doing something shameful.

"So you're saying that Vader was a hypocrite?"

"When it came to Sanctuary, yes. It's just that he got the morality backwards."

Vali was halfway out of her seat to do the cross-examination before she realized that there wasn't much point to it and sat back down.

"Counselor Umbuimi?"

"Your Honor?"

"Do you plan to cross-examine this witness?"

Vali rolled her eyes. "Your Honor, the only question I have about this testimony is why exactly it was given. I already registered that one."

Ivva looked at the floor and blushed red, and Vali realized that she couldn't have engineered a more pointed insult. It hadn't been intended that way.

"Counselor Japui, do you have any more witnesses today?"

"No, your Honor. My next two witnesses will require more time than is available today."

Leia nodded. "All right then. I'll call a recess early, and we'll reconvene tomorrow for Commander Skywalker's testimony."

The court visitors rose together, like worshippers released unexpectedly from a dreaded sermon, and started gossiping among themselves. Vali threaded her way through them to get to the defendant's box. Ivva's face was still bright.

The Queen gave Vali a look that stabbed with shards of glass--Vali had to take on faith the idea that Amidala had another expression; she certainly hadn't seen it herself--then got up and went to Kit Binai.

Anakin stood as soon as he noticed her and dipped his head respectfully. "Is there something you needed, Counselor?"

"Ivva and I need to have a little disclosure chat." She looked at Ivva. "Are you fine with doing it now?"

"Sure." She came out of the box (stepping over the train of the Queen's long gown carefully as she did it), and straightened her shoulders. "We can talk in the Council chamber, if it's all right with Her Majesty."

"It's fine, Ivva," Amidala said.

Ivva led the way back to the Naboo council chamber with authority--Vali sometimes forgot that she was, in fact, on Amidala's council--and they both sat near the end of the long table.

"Is this where your seat is when the Council meets?" Vali asked.

"We don't have formal seats. But I like the tapestry across the way."

Vali didn't bother glancing at it. "When Leia starts deliberating, she'll call in the Queen's Council as advisors. Naboo law. Which makes things a bit more convenient for you than for me."

"The Princess wouldn't give me that kind of advantage. I'll remind her of it, and I'm sure the Queen will agree to bend Naboo law to allow you to serve as an advisor as well, or to allow neither of us to."

"You're sure, are you?"

Ivva took some pins out of her fine hair, and fell limply across her shoulders. "Out there, she's Anakin's wife. Almost everywhere, she's Anakin's wife. But in here, she's Queen. And she's a very good Queen. She'll hate it, but she'll be fair."

"I still would have preferred an impartial jury."

"Don't assume the whole council is going to rush to Anakin's side. When I first found out who he was, even I ran out and refused to deal with him. The Gungans like him, but the humans--Naboo and Alderaani--are split. And the ultimate decision is Princess Leia's. Naboo law is not based on jury vote, but on consular advice to the judge."

"When this is over, you really should go to law school, Ivva. You're learning very quickly."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that." Her eyes went over to the tapestry. "You didn't seem to think much of this afternoon's decision."

"We're off the record, and we both know you were going to the sentence, not the verdict. It was foolish to be that obvious about it, and it was my job to point that out, but the court members liked Kit Binai." Vali stretched her legs out and leaned back. "That's why you really brought him, isn't it? His testimony didn't add anything. But if your client has such a patently likeable friend, how bad can he be?"

Ivva didn't answer, which was answer enough. Instead she sighed. "You wanted to talk about disclosure? On Luke's testimony tomorrow, or on Anakin's?"

"As a lawyer, Ivva, I'd advise you to keep your client off the stand, if you have to tie him up and gag him." Vali shook her head. "No, it's about Luke. Do you have any information that you think is pertinent to my case?"

"I've told you everything I'm aware of. He's going to testify to sensing good in Vader, and then to Anakin's destruction of Palpatine. Luke tells the truth, and he speaks plainly. Have you found something to contradict that?"

"I find his state of mind at the time somewhat questionable, and I'll push him on it, but no. I haven't found anything particularly damaging to his credibility as a witness." Vali leaned forward. "Ivva, do you know how long that final duel went on?"

"No."

"The entire length of the Battle of Endor. Unlike the first Death Star, there are many Imperial survivors from that battle. Most are easy to reach because they surrendered to the Rebels immediately. If there's a question of how long this good man in the dock tormented his son, and allowed him to be tortured by Palpatine, before deciding that there was something he could do about it, I can bring in half a dozen witnesses to say how long that door was shut."

"But no one to say what was going on behind it."

"That why my advice to you as a lawyer is not to put your client on the stand. Luke's not the only witness of those events, and Anakin has shown even less inclination to lie than Luke has."

"If you think it's bad for my case and good for yours, why would you be giving me that advice?"

"You have it in your mind that I'm your enemy, Ivva. I'm not. I like and respect you. With the exception of Calrissian, I've liked and respected everyone on the other side of this case, frequently more than I've liked and respected my supporters. I also think you have the makings of a good lawyer, and I'd like to see you follow through."

"And besides, getting Anakin to admit to the worst things you can imagine doesn't sound like much of a challenge."

Vali smiled. "True."

"Go on, try it."

Leia looked over her shoulder at her brother, and gave him as stern an expression as she could muster. He just grinned and leaned against the hangar wall.

"You know," she said, "I used to be able to do this when I was a kid."

"So you have a leg up on me. I couldn't do anything like this."

That was actually a little scary (and a little exciting), so Leia didn't answer it. She just squatted down beside Luke's X-wing, and looked at the duck that had built its nest under the engine. It looked back at her stupidly.

"Open your mind."

"To a duck?"

"Is he feeling anything?"

"He's probably feeling that he's a she, since she's got an egg in there."

"Oh, sure. Get technical on me."

"Aren't you supposed to be with your actual apprentice?"

"I'll be traveling with Dritali as soon as this trial is over. She's doing calisthenics. I thought I'd spend some time with you. Before you started having conversations with ducks."

Leia rolled her eyes, and tried to open her mind. "I think," she said, trying to give her voice a serious twist, "that the duck is terribly bored."

"Can you get her to come to you?"

Leia turned quickly, still in a squat, and almost lost her balance. Luke smiled. "Hi, Mother."

Leia stood, enjoying the feel of the blood rushing through her legs. "Mother."

Mother leaned over and looked at the duck. She waved to it, then smiled nervously. "I've been spending so much time taking care of Ani that I've barely spent any with the two of you."

"He seems to need more taking care of than we do," Leia said.

Mother laughed. It sounded amused, rueful, and affectionate. "Yes. Yes, he does." She looked up and caught Leia's eyes. There was something strange in the gaze. Leia could feel it moving across her skin like cool gelatin.

Luke looked between them, then bent and kissed Mother's cheek. "Sorry, Mother," he said. "But Leia's right... I should be spending time with Dritali. I'll come talk to you later."

She patted his hand and smiled at him. "I'll be in my chambers. Why don't you bring some tea?"

"Sure, Mother." He tugged a bit of her hair and left, giving Leia an encouraging look as he left.

What was going on? It wasn't like she was afraid to be alone with her Mother. Why they were...

They'd talked...

Well, certainly there'd been some talk.

Hadn't there?

Again, the nervous smile. "You could make the birds come when you were little. I thought it was your imagination at first. Then I remembered that Ani could do it, and I thought maybe you really were. Do you remember?"

Leia nodded. "When I was older, I decided it was my imagination. But I remember birds, and little animals in the garden. My mother Saché never said I was doing it. I'd tell her, 'Look, the birdies came,' and she'd smile and tell me what a great imagination I had."

"That was the right thing for her to do."

"I know. But I do remember." She squatted and held out her hand, not thinking about what she was doing, just feeling it. It felt like wishing. The duck shifted in its nest, then arched its neck out. It didn't leave its egg. Leia scooted forward and it allowed her to pet its head with the tip of her finger. She looked back at Mother. "See?"

"I see." Mother sat down on the steps of the ladder into the cockpit, and leaned against the rail, smiling. That strange look was in her eyes.

There must have been a talk. It had to have happened. Why don't I remember it?

Mother sighed contentedly. "I love you very much, Leia."

During Tashin's trial! Of course! Before Father testified. I did her hair and we...

Exchanged about two sentences. I was still angry.

"I love you too, Mother," she said. She sat down on the hangar floor in front of the ladder, her head about on a level with Mother's shoulders. Long, thin fingers rested on her head, and stroked her hair. It was a feeling Leia didn't realize she remembered until she felt it. She closed her eyes and enjoyed it. "You used to play with my hair."

"Yes. You couldn't wait for your hair to be long enough to braid. You used to try to braid mine whenever I had it loose. I took to braiding it myself in self-defense."

Leia laughed. "Yes. I remember. I used to tangle my fingers in it. I didn't remember it until you said it, but... "

"I lost a lot of hair to you." Leia felt Mothers fingers move, felt her hair picked up off her shoulders. The center fell back, then the left side was drawn across it. There was a tug as she picked up the third section, then the right side moved to the middle. Mother continued the braid as she spoke. "The last day I spent with you, you asked me to braid your hair. It still wasn't long enough. I never got the chance."

Leia felt her hands tense against the stone floor. "What happened that day, Mother?"

"Ani came to Alderaan. He was angry. I barely had time to hide you before he saw us together."

"You hid me in a trunk." It wasn't a question.

"It was the only way off the balcony."

"Short of letting him see the truth."

"Yes." The fingers paused for a moment, then the braiding went on. She was weaving the plait small and even, Naboo style. "Yes, short of that. I couldn't risk that, Leia. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes. Of course I understand it."

"When he came... how can I explain this? How can I make it understandable?"

"You felt that there was still good in him. You thought you could bring him back to the good side. And you loved him."

"Maybe I don't need to explain it."

Yes you do! If you loved him so bloody much, and believed that he was still good, then what was the point of putting me in the trunk? What was the point of keeping secrets when the truth could have made everything different?

"Of course you don't," she said aloud. It was a pointless speculation, and questioning Mother's decision at this juncture wasn't going to help anything. It would only serve to hurt her.

The problem was, the questions came up any time Leia thought about talking to Mother about the past. They came up and gagged her. It was more comfortable not to talk about the past at all.

Unfortunately, the present was pretty much off-limits as well, at least until the trial was over.

Mother finished the braid in silence, and tied it off with a band that she pulled from her own hair. The braid fell against Leia's spine with a pleasant weight. She looked over her shoulder. "Trade? I'm much better at this than I was at three."

Mother laughed. "I'm too old to be sitting on the floor."

"It's okay. I'll stand. Just scooch around." Leia stood up and stretched, while Mother turned so that Leia could reach it from beside the ladder. She started working on taking out the complicated pattern of pins that held up the curls, and loosing the chain that the red diadem hung from. "Do you have a comb or a brush?"

"Usually." She reached into a recess in the wine-colored gown, pulled out a small pouch, and rooted around in it. A moment later, she came up with a silver-handled comb.

Leia took it, and began to work out the tangles, starting at the ends and working her way up. Say something. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry about spoiling Father's mood earlier. I saw it right away, but--"

"It's all right, Leia. You're not responsible for Ani's mood swings."

Her voice was strangely tight, and Leia decided not to press the issue. She let a tangle occupy her for a minute, then changed the subject. "I was thinking that maybe we could reseed someplace new this spring. The rains are almost over, but maybe some late season plants would still take root."

"Maybe."

"I can't stay too long. I mean, I'll have to go back to Coruscant after... "

After.

The word cut off any conversation of the future. Will you and Father remarry? It depends on you, Leia. Will you be happy? If you let me.

Leia went on combing in silence until Mother's hair had lost its ringlets and lay in dark, glossy waves over her back. "Do you want me to put it up?" she asked.

"No. It's fine like this. It feels good. I'll just push it back with a band so I can see my ledgers."

She gathered up the pins and the diadem from the upper step of the ladder, where Leia had laid them down, and slipped down from her perch. She put her hand on Leia's arm and smiled, then drew her into an embrace. Leia returned it gladly.

Mother stroked the new braid. "So many places where the words don't come," she said sadly. "Maybe someday, we can talk about all those places."

"Some of them hurt."

"I know."

Mother pulled away, and raised her hand to Leia's face. She pushed a wisp of hair that had escaped behind one ear, then smiled and left the hangar.

Leia watched her for awhile, then sighed. She looked at the duck, sitting there on her egg, and shook her head.

Luke decided not to bother Dritali tonight. She was spending the evening with Kit, because, now that his testimony was over, he was talking about going home, and their time was short.

He also didn't think he'd be much of a master tonight. His mind was filled with images of the last duel with Father, and he was, quite frankly, afraid of what Vali Umbuimi would do on cross. He meditated for an hour or so, and was able to center himself and quell the fear. He would tell the truth. It was that simple. No one had pretended that Father was a saint, least of all Father himself. Luke hadn't gone into that fight believing that it would be easy.

The truth was the answer.

Depending greatly, of course, on one's own point of view.

He went to the kitchen and got a tray with tea and fruit, and went up to Mother's chambers. She was sitting at her desk when he got there, alone in a globe of golden light, her hair loose and spilling over her shoulders as she worked at her ledger terminals. Luke just paused in the doorway to look at her there, and miss all the times he hadn't seen her working far into the night.

She finished a line of figures and looked up, smiling when she noticed him. "Luke! How long have you been there?"

"I'm not sure. You took your hair down."

"Leia took it down, actually. Thank you for giving us a few minutes. It's been a long time since we talked."

Luke took a few steps into the room, and set the tray down on a low table. Three chairs were grouped around it. He thought they ought to bring in a fourth, against the possibility of the whole family gathering there at one time after the trial. Well, a fifth. Han was part of the family. And maybe a sixth, for Dritali, if he was going to finish raising her.

"Luke?"

"Sorry, Mother. Just counting chairs."

"Mmm." Mother sat down, not asking for an explanation. She never did, but she always seemed to know what he meant. "You're nervous about tomorrow?"

"Yes."

She patted the chair across from her, which Luke took, then leaned forward and took his hands. "Whatever Vali Umbuimi is able to point out pales beside the ultimate truth of what happened on board the Death Star. You know that, Luke."

"I do know it, Mother. But... it's one of those things that it's hard to put into words... what it meant to Father, to me."

"To everyone. No one ever did it before, at least not that I ever heard of. The Jedi didn't believe it was possible. But you found Ani, and he came back."

Luke looked down at their hands. Mother's were unlike the rest of the family's -- small, like Leia's and his own, but long and thin instead of squarish. He squeezed them gently. "There are things I don't like thinking about, Mother."

"I know."

"Vali will bring them all up. She'll talk about Bespin. And about... about how long it took."

Mother didn't say anything, but that didn't bother Luke at all. Mother understood. There were times and places she didn't like to think about, and Vali Umbuimi brought them all to her mind, too. She understood about finding a place inside her soul to accept what had been without dwelling on it. She knew about the questions that it would drive a person crazy to ask too often. She understood why he'd needed to go after Father, because she'd tried it herself. She understood what it all meant.

So none of it needed to be said. She just patted his hand, then offered him a cup of tea and sat back. "Luke," she said, "we're not walking through this blind."

"I know."

"That's the perception Vali has. She thinks that we're blinding ourselves--particularly that I am, but certainly also that you are--to the things Vader did. She thinks that you'll be shocked."

"How could I be shocked? I was there. I saw."

"She's not the only one who thinks it, Luke. I get letters. So many letters. People think that--"

"--that you can't know and still sit in the same room with him."

"Exactly."

"Father thinks I split him too much."

"He thinks I do, too."

"Do we?"

She thought about it. "Maybe. Yes. No."

Luke laughed, surprising himself. "We're decisive, aren't we?"

"That didn't sound quite right, did it?"

"It's all right. I know what you mean."

"You always do."

Luke felt a stirring in the Force, and then there was a knock at the door. Mother keyed it open and Father leaned around the frame. "May I join you?"

"As long as you don't try to exert undue influence on the witness," Mother said. "So no saving his life, and under no circumstances may you overthrow a tyrant and save the galaxy."

"I'm not sure where to find one these days." He smiled, and sat in the chair between them. He caught Mother's eye, and held her gaze for what seemed like a long time.

Luke cleared his throat. "Would you two like me to leave?"

They turned, and, at the same time, said, "No."

Luke laughed again, and poured his father a cup of tea.

DAY 16

In the dream, he is walking down a crowded street, the girl Dritali just ahead of him. He can see people glancing at him casually, then taking a second look and scurrying inside, shooing their children ahead of them. They look out their doors again, eyes wide.

He raises his hands, expecting the black gloves, the too-evenly sized mechanical hands. But he sees only his own hands. He looks up. Dritali's back is to him, but she is speaking to him. He doesn't know what the topic of conversation is, but she seems to think nothing of the way other people are acting.

"Dritali?"

She doesn't answer him. He may as well not have spoken. "...and you learn to live with it, Lord Vader, and that's all there is to it, because after all, you should remember--"

"No, Dritali, my name is Anakin, now."

"--and they should remember--"

"Dritali, please look at me!"

And she does look, and Anakin stumbles backward, unmindful of the people behind him. Gone is the small red scar that mars her cheek. Her face is a twisted ruin of burn scars, with a saber wound lashed through one side. Her hair is fine in back, but here, she is bald to the crown of her head, and thick white ropes of flesh criss-cross over her skull.

"--and you can hardly forget what's written on your own face."

Anakin pushed himself toward waking, and opened his eyes into the darkness. The chrono told him that he'd gotten a total of twenty minutes sleep this time. It seemed both more and less. More because he felt he'd been following Dritali for hours, less because his body felt as if he hadn't slept at all.

After he'd left Amidala's chambers last night, he'd still been feeling good. But he'd looked up at the tower where Han and Leia were staying, and he'd seen Leia bent over her law books, and an edgy, nervous jittering in the Force had warned him that it would be a bad night.

He dreamed often now--sometimes kind dreams, sometimes not so kind. Both were a relief after the years in the suit, when true sleep was rare and true dreams moreso. But the dreams tonight were relentless. He'd dreamed of Mother Zemai, standing in a river of blood, watching her flesh stream out around her. He'd dreamed of Bespin, watching his saber blade slice through Luke's wrist. He dreamed of fire. Then the business with Dritali.

He slid out of bed, and sat on the floor cross-legged to meditate. He needed to gather himself together. He would not make today any worse for Luke by going in there looking like he needed a nursemaid.

The first level of meditation was easy to achieve, if not particularly relaxing. His senses grew acute, and he began to hear the night-sounds of the Palace, the droids cleaning, the guards shifting their weight from one side to another as they stood their posts. Beyond the grand entrance--he supposed it was no longer hearing, but sensing--there were still a few die-hard protestors. They were whispering to one another.

He went deeper, sensing other people. Luke wasn't resting particularly well, and Leia... was still up. She needed to get some sleep. Dritali was dreaming her own dream, something Anakin couldn't pick up, though he sensed water in it. Amidala... He reached for her, found her mind. She was also dreaming, and much more pleasantly than he had. He couldn't see the details, but she was happy and content, surrounded by a large, happy family. She seemed to sense his presence in her mind, and he caught a sleepy My beautiful Ani... before she dropped into deep sleep and out of the dream. He smiled.

Good. His heart was slowing. His breathing was regular (but not too regular). He took himself down another level, to a place that came close to simulated sleep.

The visions began to come, at first slow enough to sort out. He saw Luke and Dritali traveling together, then he saw Dritali alone (this worried him for a moment, until he realized she was considerably older than she was now). She was rising up from a lake strewn with reddish flowers, the water streaming from her long hair. Then there was Luke again, seeking more students. He still had no wife. There was Kit on Tatooine, surrounded by his grown children. The visions started to come faster and faster, swirling around one another until they pushed Anakin into the deepest level of meditation he dared reach. Any further, and there were things down there, things he didn't want to see. The last thing he saw clearly was Amidala, reaching out to him, then drawing her hand away in horror, and covering her eyes. It was too late to go back.

The burning plain opens out before him. He can see Leia sitting on a mountain on the other side, her back to him. She senses him, and stands up, tilting her head a little. "Father?"

"Have you called me here, Leia?"

He can see her smiling, though her back is turned and she is several miles away. "No, Father. I've just been thinking about you. You found me here."

Somewhere at the edge of Anakin's vision, a volcano erupts, sending fiery light into the dark sky.

"Not thinking happily, I take it."

She laughs. It isn't bitter or cold, nor is it happy. It just sounds tired. "What's not to be happy about?"

Suddenly, she is standing before him, not the woman she is, but the child she was, her dark hair tamed into two long plaits that dangle over her shoulders. She raises a hand and traces the planes of his face. "Such a good face," she whispers. "I love your face."

Then a harsh wind blows the dry, hot air across the plain, and Leia is swept away with it. The landscape fades and disappears.

Anakin opened his eyes. The dawn light was seeping around the draperies, and the chrono told him that it was time to get ready for the day.

Leia woke up just past dawn, her face pressed into the pages of an old Naboo law book (thank the Maker, she had gone back in time far enough that she had been absorbed in a real book rather than a holo when sleep had finally taken her; laser burns would be a bit harder to cover up).

She lifted her head, and the string of words closest to her eyes woke her like a splash of cold water. She'd been studying the text when she went to sleep and it had haunted her dreams. The book was partly law, partly debate, and mostly a running, exaggerated narrative of figures in Naboo's mythical past. It was open to the story of the man who had allegedly divided the world between the plains and the swamps, and made a bid for both the kingship and immortality. He didn't get the kingship, but the queen who had been chosen (by an arcane process that Leia didn't begin to understand) used magic to grant him a long life, then...

Leia slammed the book shut. Ancient, barbaric, cruel practices. She had no business in this part of the law. Better to use old Republic law.

"Book do something to annoy you?" Han asked from their bed, rolling over drowsily.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"'s okay. I've only got an hour before I'd have to get up anyway. You still at that?"

"I slept for a little while."

"You worried about today?"

"No. This part I've heard a hundred times."

"Not changing your mind, is it?"

"I'm open to having my mind changed. That's my job."

She got up and went to the 'fresher to get herself together for the day. Another set of deep blue velvet robes (getting too hot as summer came on), a spare judge's cap. All other things aside, she would be glad to get the trial over with just so that she could wear something else. At the moment, she would almost welcome a day in the metal bikini, just for the change of pace.

What must it have felt like to Father, trapped behind the same awful image every day of his life?

But that was a daughter-thought, not a judge-thought, and she couldn't afford it yet. She cleaned herself quickly and decided to put on some makeup to hide the sleepless night. The robes came last, and by the time she left the 'fresher, she was in her role again. Han was already dressed--he wore the same sort of thing he always did, too, but it never seemed to bother him--and he was sprawled out on the couch reading the morning news.

"Anything unrelated to the trial?" she asked without much hope.

"Tournament scores from Malastare," Han offered.

"Anything important? The drought on La'azum? Or I got word yesterday that there's some trouble on Cal-Dar, student protests or something..."

Han flicked the menu through its list, then shrugged. "There's a blurb buried at the bottom."

"Great. I take it we're still on the front page?"

"Luke's testifying, Leia. Everyone wants to hear how Palpatine died. It's going to be a Hutt's caravan out there today." He glanced toward the window, where Leia could indeed already hear a larger crowd than usual beginning to gather.

"Marvelous," she said. "Han, look, I'm fine. Will you do me a favor and check on Luke?"

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"All right, sweetheart." He shook his head in disbelief. "Luke's looking forward to this, I think."

"He will until Vali gets her hands on him. Thinks he'll convince the whole galaxy that he was right. Do you know that's the first thing he said to me when we talked? 'I was right, Leia. Father told me to tell you I was right.'" She smiled. "That's Father, isn't it? He's dying in the middle of a battle, but still trying to win arguments."

"Settle them, anyway."

"Win them." She tugged on a bit of her hair, wound it around her finger, noticed she was doing it, and let go. "I don't think it's occurred to Luke that people might believe him without coming around to his way of thinking."

"True."

"Just go. Keep an eye on him."

"If you're sure that's what you want."

"It's what I want," she snapped, more harshly than she meant to.

Han just smirked at her. "Okay, your Worship, I was just leaving..."

He backed out the door.

Leia stared at the ancient law books for a long time, then put them out of her mind and headed down to court.

Luke sat staring out at the gathering crowds from one of the hallway window-seats. What he'd told Leia earlier had been almost as much to reassure himself as her that he could make the court believe he'd been right to convince Anakin Skywalker to return to the living. He could still remember the rage that had filled him when Vader intimated he would turn Leia if he couldn't have his son. How close Luke had come to letting that fury overcome him. How close he'd come to allowing the Dark Side dictate to him.

Destroy your father. Destroy the one who has inflicted so much misery on those you care for, on innocents who could not defend themselves.

Somehow, he'd managed to pull away, to realize just where that path led. After striking off his father's cybernetic hand... the right one, same as Vader had taken from him on Bespin... he felt an overwhelming disgust at how close he'd come to following in his father's footsteps. One look at the malevolent, decaying face of the Emperor as he egged him on to finish the job had proven sufficient to completely revolt the young Jedi he'd been trying to become.

He could still hear Vader's labored breathing as the respirator failed, still hear the insistent urging of the Sith Master to take his father's place at his side. Luke shuddered at the memories, aware each moment would be picked and pried at in detail today, like some carrion bird at a dying animal's carcass.

"Hey, Luke. You all right? Lookin' a bit peaked." Han's too cheery voice interrupted Luke's dark musings.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just thinking about the past."

Han gave his own shudder. "Not too pleasant, eh?" He shrugged. "Hang in there, kid. You'll do just fine."

Luke managed a weak smile. "Sure. I survived attacks by my father and the Emperor. What are a couple of lawyers gonna do to me?"

"What's this? The all mighty Jedi doubting himself?" Han joked, then lowered his voice, his expression becoming serious. "Listen, Luke. You did the right thing. Yeah, I know everybody in the family's trying to tell you the same thing, but you can't start second guessing yourself. At the time, you did what you had to. I may not understand all this stuff about the Force, but I do know family ties are pretty strong stuff. If you say you felt there was still something human and decent under that mask, I believe you."

"Thanks, Han. I appreciate it. Things will work out." Luke straightened and stood, then allowed Han to walk with him toward the court.

All I can do is appeal to the Force to back me up in this. And give me the strength to withstand what comes next. Somehow I feel facing Vader and the Emperor was easier than facing Father's crimes in court and explaining why I brought him back.

Amidala awakened with a sense of peace and contentment that was almost obscenely juxtaposed to the testimony Luke would have to endure giving today. She tried to remember the dream that had granted her the feeling, but came up with only tattered shreds of images. A large family, gathered at the lakeside. Herself as a matriarch. Winama's loom, rebuilt, with daughters of the house learning the craft. Ani playing with the children. Ani... not playing with the children.

She smiled to herself.

In the first year of her marriage, as she and Ani had grown used to the rhythms of one another's days, she'd often had this sense of fullness and balance. He was an early riser. He would awaken in the mornings and meditate on the nature of the Force. He hadn't seemed to enjoy meditation, the way Luke seemed to, but he'd kept up the practice to try and keep his mind clear.

Amidala's own meditations had been different. After he fell asleep at her side, she would stay awake and look at him. In her hour, the hour of marble moonlight, she would meditate on the curve of his shoulder, and ponder the universe in the tiny shadows of his spine. It had been in those quiet hours that she'd felt this deep calm before. She wondered what in the dream had brought it back, or what had prompted the dream in the first place.

Talking with Leia, of course. And Luke and Ani. Three perfectly normal interactions with her family. Braiding Leia's hair. Having her own hair combed. The simple things that they had missed... and now reclaimed.

She felt him outside her door just before he knocked and called, "Will you join me for breakfast?" The door cracked open and she saw the edge of his face before he seemed to notice she was still in bed. He disappeared and shut the door as if burned. "I will wait for you."

"Wait in the Great Hall, Ani," she said. "And eat something."

"I will."

"Something you like."

"Would you like me to get your breakfast?"

"Whatever you're having, get double. We can share."

A long pause, and she could feel him smile. "Very well, my love. We will share."

Then he left, and Amidala pushed back the covers. She glanced at the chrono and sat up quickly. It was later than she'd thought.

She combed her hair out quickly--the loose waves Leia had given her yesterday would have to do, pushed back with nothing more than the simple gold filigree headband she'd worn last night. No time to choose a dress carefully either. To avoid the problem, she closed her eyes when she reached into her wardrobe, and drew out the first thing her hand touched.

Padmé's flame dress. The one Leia had brougt back with her from Ani's place on Coruscant, where it had lain in a trunk for over twenty years. Too young for her, too...

Well, she'd chosen this way so she wouldn't argue with herself about it. The flame dress it would be.

She washed quickly at the basin in her chambers and let the soft material of the dress flow over her. The underdress--the hooded red shift--was left on the bed, and wore the flowing orange and yellow outerdress over a simple shift, with the loose hood draped back over her shoulders. Far too young for her, but it still felt remarkably good.

Ani's eyebrows raised when she came into the Great Hall, and he stood to pull her chair out. "Am I to switch names for you again?" he asked, dropping her a wink.

She kissed his cheek. "Good morning."

"I say this quite seriously, Amidala. You look like the girl who came into Watto's shop."

"I wasn't wearing this dress, and my hair was in braids."

"I remember precisely what you were wearing, and how your hair fell. And I remember you wearing this dress only a few days later. It still suits you prettily. Though I like it better without the inside part."

She looked at him. His eyes were admiring, but also quite frankly curious. This wasn't idle prattle. She turned to the table, where a large platter of eggs and fruit was laid out between them. "This looks good. Shall we begin?"

They didn't talk as they ate together, and the hour of testimony drew closer. Several times, one or the other would look up and begin to speak, then look down again and say nothing.

At last they could eat no more (the platter was, to Amidala's surprise, almost empty--she hadn't realized how hungry she'd been), and they stood up. Anakin touched her shoulder. "I waited too long, Amidala," he said. "I let him go through--"

"I know what happened, Ani."

"I want you to know that... that I do not hold that day in any pride. I did what I had to do, but far later than I should have."

Amidala closed her eyes. "The day was too late," she whispered. "I should have told you years before, when Palpatine's hold on you was--"

"Stronger," he said firmly. "I wouldn't have been able to defeat him. You were right to hide the children, Amidala. Kenobi was right. It hurts and angers me, and there is a bleeding hole in my soul when I think of it. But it was my fault, and you were left with no other correct choice."

"Ani."

"Say it, Amidala. Say you did the right thing."

She swallowed hard. "I don't know that I did..."

"I am telling you--I was inside my skin. I know."

A bailiff came into the Hall and approached them.

Ani leaned in closer. "Say it, Am. Know it in your blood and bones."

The bailiff was there. "Is-a time to go, Yousa Majesty, Ani."

She nodded, and led the way out without saying a thing.

Luke took the stand, then took the oath to speak only the truth. Though he felt certain of his motives, a cold pit opened in his stomach, making his hands tingle... well, at least his real one. Without conscious thought, Luke flexed his cybernetic digits under the black leather glove and tried not to allow his discomfort to show.

Peace, Luke. Remember why you're here. You're here to explain just what you sensed in Vader before you confronted him and the Emperor.

The quiet words soothed his racing mind, the mental echo of Obi-Wan reassuring him he would do well to invoke his Jedi calm for this unpalatable task. Why did must he relive those awful moments that had stretched on interminably for the entire court? To prove to the court that somewhere deep in the Dark Lord of the Sith known as Vader, Anakin Skywalker still remained... Still struggled for control, still cried out for justice and doing the right thing, no matter the cost.

The young Jedi master didn't look over at his father, seated between Mother and Dritali, neither did he meet Han's eyes, who sat behind them. No matter what his friend and Leia's husband had said earlier, things could get very uncomfortable, to say the least. Instead, he sought Leia's face, saw the tight, tense set to it and realized just how much she had and continued to suffer in this trial. Counselor Japui made her way toward him. Luke steeled himself, aware what she asked would be nothing compared to what the prosecution would put him... his family... through.

"Commander Skywalker, you are the only son of Anakin Skywalker, formerly known as Darth Vader?"

"Of course. That is a matter of recorded fact."

"A great deal has been speculated regarding just what occurred during that final confrontation between the Sith and yourself. Although this is not new information, the defense would ask that you go deeper. Into the motivation for your actions that day and why you refused to end Vader's life."

Luke shifted uncomfortably for a moment, closed his eyes briefly to gather himself, then went on, his calm voice surprising even himself.

"Perhaps it would be best if I spoke of the events leading up to that time. Though those are also known matters of record, if I give you my own perspective as to what I sensed and the continuing contact between my father and me it might clarify my reasons behind those actions."

Ivva looked toward Leia, who gave a brief nod. For a moment, the defense attorney hesitated, as if waiting for Vali Umbuimi's objection.

"No objections, Your Honor. The prosecution is... curious as well as to the exact reasoning behind Commander Skywalker's actions," Vali conceded.

Ivva dipped her head in acknowledgment and turned back to the witness. "Go on, Commander. Begin where you wish," she requested, then returned to her seat.

"On Bespin, when Vader disclosed our relationship, I felt only horror. Painful horror, that my father was not the navigator on a spice freighter as my uncle had told me for years. Painful horror that the creature before me, the one I knew had been responsible for so much suffering, had created me. At that moment, I began to understand the fearful and confusing vision I had on Dagobah. In a cave there, a place strong with the Dark Side of the Force, I had faced Vader and triumphed. Yet when I gazed into the fallen mask, it disintegrated, exposing my own face."

A murmur arose like waves on a shore until Leia called for order. Silence descended once again and Luke glanced at his father, then his sister. Both wore the same impassive expressions and he couldn't help thinking how much alike they truly were.

"Continue, please," Leia prompted him.

"That very horror warred with a frightening need to know just what had turned him. And the need to redeem him if possible. But I also knew I had no chance against him with the scanty knowledge I had. I wouldn't stand a chance in a duel. My own training had been woefully short, for the most part because of my impatience to stop the terrible visions of my friends' pain and suffering I had seen. At this time, I was unaware of the blood ties to the Princess. Still, in my darkest hour, I called out to her and the bond between us allowed her to rescue me. As we fled Bespin, I sensed Vader's presence. Not the cold anger that had tried to stop my destruction of the Death Star, not even the blackness I had sensed when I first saw him. Instead, I sensed... yearning, memories of better times, a need to see me again to reassure himself that I truly existed."

Luke met his father's eyes, not surprised at the glitter of moisture he saw there. He had all he could do himself not to weep at the memories of those experiences, but he forced himself on.

"I stayed as far away from him as possible for the next few years, mercilessly driving myself to improve my skills in the Force. I knew eventually we would meet again and then... I didn't know what would happen. I only knew that somehow I had find a way to help him return to the Light." He cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. "But first I had to rescue my friend, Han Solo. I felt responsible for his situation. If Ben and I hadn't hired his ship, then encouraged him to stay a part of the Rebellion, he might have never had to live through what he did. So I used my Force abilities to aid my sister, Han's copilot and General Calrissian to extricate him from Jabba the Hutt's clutches. Once he recovered enough, we and the Rebellion became aware of the Emperor's construction of yet another battle station... another Death Star."

The court remained quiet, hanging on his every word. Though everyone had heard the story many times, they seemed intent his testimony. He could only pray what he said didn't dig his father's pit any deeper.

"As we approached Endor, I sensed Vader's presence. He commanded the Imperial fleet's flagship star destroyer that protected the partially finished Death Star. As he acknowledge my presence, I feared my being along would endanger the mission, yet knew I couldn't turn back. Time ran on inexorably and as things grew grimmer on our mission, I knew I had to face my greatest fears and the biggest challenge of my life. If I were wrong, then I would give my life to end the Emperor's tyranny. I could only pray I was right."

He paused again, sipping from the tepid water set to one side for witnesses to quench their thirst. It did nothing to alleviate the parched feeling and he forced his words through dry lips.

"While my friends continued to strive to lower the temporary shields protecting the Death Star, I made my way toward the station... toward the beacon of my father's presence. I surrendered to the Stormtroopers, who then took me to him, as I had hoped. Despite my intentions, he voiced his opinion that it was too late for him, that he had become too steeped in the Dark Side." This time he didn't avoid Father's eyes. He sent him reassurances, though he could only hope the court would understand just why he'd persuaded his father's spirit to return to flesh. "It hurt that he felt irredeemable, but I felt that if I could continue to whittle away at his armor, in the figurative sense, I could reach what remained of Anakin Skywalker and have him aid me in taking down the Emperor."

Luke swallowed around the tightness in his throat. He'd come very close to joining the Force himself and could still recall the agony of Force lightning coursing through his body.

"Commander Skywalker? Are you able to proceed?" Ivva asked him quietly, concern plain on her face.

With a nod, he again cleared his throat and went on. "We didn't speak again on the flight from Endor to the Death Star. Yet I continued to sense a raging conflict going on in him. When I came before the Emperor, I couldn't help but wonder how I'd ever thought Vader dark compared to the blackness of Palpatine's soul. No conflict about doing awful things, no conscience about turning father and son against each other. He seemed to revel in my anger, encourage it. In fact, he goaded me, trying to make me take up arms against him. He succeeded, but my father prevented me from carrying through. At first I thought it was because he protected that spider and though he fought well, I couldn't bring myself to give my all to destroying him. Then as I refused to fight, he said the one thing that pushed me further toward the Dark Side." Luke took a shuddering breath, wanting desperately not to say what had driven him to attack Vader with a ferocity that nearly undid his father. But that would be a sin of omission, one he couldn't in good conscience commit. "He picked up from me my worry about Leia and threatened to turn her if he couldn't have me."

A stifled gasp from the bench drew the eyes of those closest, excluding the one Luke had been called upon to defend. Except it was going all wrong.

I'm so sorry, Leia. I couldn't tell you earlier.

Without waiting for any interruptions, Luke hurried on. "I fought like a possessed man, fearing if he knew then the Emperor would discover it as well and I couldn't allow that. We fought before him until I drove Vader back, striking first his chest and then his right hand." Luke did pause then, raising his own right hand and remembering his determination not to finish it when he saw that. "As he lay there, gasping for breath, I sensed he had given up. Had decided it was best to let me end it for him." His chin went up and a determined glint shone in his blue eyes for a moment before he put his 'Jedi face,' as Leia called it, back on. "I refused to kill him and when I did so, the Emperor became enraged. He turned that rage on me, torturing me with bolts of lightning until I cried out in agony." Once again, he turned to look at Anakin. "I called for Father. For him to help me. Even though I nearly lost consciousness from the pain... Even though he had fallen, our fight weakening him terribly, he rose and I sensed him begging wordlessly for his master to stop. When Palpatine continued, Vader picked him up and flung him into the reactor core's melting pit."

All of it wasn't news; in fact, much of it had come out since the Emperor's fall. Except what he'd felt. The bald facts seemed just that... Luke had surrendered to Vader, who then took him to the Emperor. They had fought before him and Vader had fallen. The Emperor had attacked Luke and in extremis, the young man called out to his father to save him. In a heretofore unbelievable act of heroism (did no one remember him before his turn?), Vader had once again turned to the Light and destroyed the man responsible for a stranglehold on the Galaxy for over thirty years. Still, Luke could almost hear the thoughts of the court... Did one act constitute redemption? Did it explain his return to the living? Wouldn't it have just been better to let him go?

Expectantly, the court seemed to wait for him to explain his reasoning for coaxing Vader's... no, Anakin Skywalker's... spirit into the clone. In fact, Ivva rose and approached him.

"So, Commander, do you feel that this deed warranted your later actions? Can you explain the reasons behind the seemingly impossible feat you performed of 'reanimating' the clone of Anakin Skywalker that Palpatine had created?"

"Indeed, I can. I felt my father, Anakin Skywalker, had much good left to do in this galaxy. That his life had been misspent in error and that any chance to further redeem himself was better than none."

Besides I wanted my father. I wanted to have him alive and with me for at least a little while so we could make up for lost time. The selfish thought surfaced, bringing heat to Luke's face.

"Thank you, Commander. That will be all," Ivva told him. "Your witness," she remarked to Vali, then returned to her seat, plopping down somewhat gracelessly behind her assigned table. She looked rather haggard and Luke wondered how much damage his 'testimony' had done to her case.

Vali came toward him, looking nearly as spent as her counterpart. She sighed and rubbed her temples before addressing him. "Commander Skywalker, do you expect us to believe this 'sensing of good' in Vader was enough to take the chance of bringing him back? Didn't you fear he would once again return to the same persona he'd been as a Sith Lord? Did you think it safe to put that kind of power back into his hands?"

Ivva began to protest, but Luke silenced her with a look. "No, Counselor, I didn't feel that way at all. What Vader had become... for the most part, it died with him. My father's not perfect, but who is? And though you can protest that many of his acts as Vader were atrocities, don't people deserve a chance to redeem themselves? To answer your first question, yes I do expect you to understand that what I sensed in him was worth taking the chance. And so far, Counselor, I haven't seen anything to change my opinion or belief. He won't abuse his power and can do a great deal of good for the Galaxy. It won't change the past, but it just might change the future."

Vali's headache was centered at the top of her spine, as if a nub of bone was drilling itself into her brain. She bent her head forward to try and alleviate the pain, and suddenly felt a tingle of energy. She didn't really need to look back at Anakin Skywalker, but she did so involuntarily, and was utterly unsurprised to see his eyes focused on her. She gave him a stern look and he looked away, but the pressure in her head didn't return.

Great. Wonderful. Like I don't have enough conflicts about doing this.

Well, at least this was an easily ignored conflict; Vali Umbuimi had never let her personal allegiances determine her professional stances. She went back to Luke. Her next question was based on nothing but intuition, but she trusted her intuition. Luke lied about as gracefully as a Wookiee danced the Ampinuan float-about.

"Commander Skywalker," she said, "you said that after your initial conversation on Endor, you felt that... how did you put it? That you could 'continue to whittle away at his armor'?"

"Yes."

"Commander, could you repeat to me exactly what he said to make you believe he thought it too late to save him?"

"He said, 'It is too late for me, son.'"

"Hmmm. Hard to misread that."

"I knew he didn't mean it. If he could still say it, then he had to know that there was something else out there. He had to still be able to see a glimmer of goodness."

"I can see the logic in that." She paused. If she was wrong, it probably wouldn't hurt her case too much. But if she was right... well, she had to ask. "And after he said that, Commander, I assume you pointed this out to him."

Silence.

"Commander?"

"Not exactly."

"What, exactly, then did you say, Commander?"

"I was angry and disappointed."

"And that's what you told him?"

"No."

The judge spoke softly. "Answer the question she asked, Luke."

Luke looked down. "I said, 'Then my father is truly dead.'"

Vali sighed. She'd guessed right.

"But I was wrong," Luke went on. "I realized that. When we were coming up... I could sense that he hurt. That I'd hurt him by saying that. If it were true, then it wouldn't have mattered."

"I see."

"Do you?"

Vali bit down on a caustic response. If his vaunted intuition wasn't telling him that she really did understand what he was saying, then she had to wonder what it was capable of telling him. "Commander," she said, "your testimony is that you were able to reach Anakin Skywalker shortly after dawn on the day of the Battle of Endor."

"It was a tentative connection..."

"Ah. A lot of interference."

"That's one way to put it."

"It was late afternoon when the battle ended."

"Yes."

"In the time between that 'tentative connection' and the time your father decided to assassinate the Emperor--"

"Objection!" Ivva called out. "Prejudicial." Good girl.

Leia nodded. "Sustained. The death of Senator Palpatine has not been ruled an assassination."

Vali fought a smile. Senator Palpatine, indeed. She would have to address the issue of whether or not it was an assassination with Anakin tomorrow, before one of Palpatine's half-bright lackeys decided to toss that particular grenade into the courts. "Very well," she said. "Commander Skywalker, how long was it from the time you joined your father until the time Palpatine died?"

"I wasn't wearing a chrono, but most of the day. If you have the time that the Executor went down, it was less than an hour before that."

"So, for somewhere between eight and ten hours, during which you had a tentative communication... "

"That was just for a minute at first!"

"Ah, so it's something mutable, that might disappear?"

"Not anymore."

"Is there some reason the court should believe that?"

"My father has been back for several months, and there hasn't been the slightest sign of it."

"Not at all? You haven't sensed the presence you thought of as Vader since your father's return?"

Again, a quiet obstinance.

"Commander, you are under oath."

His eyes went to the defendant's box. Something seemed to pass between Luke and Anakin. Luke sighed. "Once. After General Calrissian's testimony. But it was just a whisper."

"Something like the whisper you heard the morning of the Battle of Endor?"

"Something like that," he muttered.

"And we know how that turned out." Vali didn't need to turn around to see Queen Amidala glaring laser bolts at her.

"Objection," Ivva said. "May I approach the bench?"

Leia nodded, and gestured to Vali to join them.

"Your Honor," Ivva whispered, "Commander Skywalker isn't on trial for bringing his father back to life. And Counselor Umbuimi is the one who insisted that this trial isn't about whether or not Anakin Skywalker is good or evil."

"And Your Honor disagreed," Vali said.

Leia sat quietly, her fingers steepled against her lips, looking between them. Finally, she spoke. "Anakin Skywalker is not on trial for what he may or may not do now, and whether or not his resurrection poses a danger to society is not a question for the courts, as the courts do not exist to judge crimes a man hasn't committed yet. He's charged with nothing following his resurrection. I see no reason to bring up his emotional reactions to this trial. I don't know that anyone involved in it is doing much better. His actions since the resurrection are therefore not to be weighed, for good or ill, in the final decision of this court. Your question is therefore not relevant, Counselor."

Vali didn't argue. The seed of doubt was in the minds of Leia's advisors. Beyond that, Leia was right. It was legally irrelevant, except inasmuch as any case was prosecuted to prevent the offender from making a nuisance of himself again.

Leia released them, and Vali went back to her questioning of Luke.

"What I began to ask you before we were sidetracked was, how long were you engaged with your father and Palpatine before Palpatine's death?"

"Between eight and ten hours."

"During that time, how would you characterize your father's behavior?"

"At the end--"

"The end aside. I'm talking about the seven and a half to nine and a half hours before that."

"We fought. He was trying to bring me over to the Dark Side."

"By extolling its virtues?"

"By trying to make me fight him."

"Or kill Palpatine."

"He stopped me from killing Palpatine."

"I see."

"He wanted me to kill him instead."

"Another intuition?"

"Not at the time. I realized that later."

"When?"

"I'm not sure. It dawned on me slowly."

Vali thought about arguing with it, but she really didn't see any benefit in doing so. She thought Luke was probably right--on some level, Anakin's actions were a half-baked, semi-conscious suicide attempt. Since Luke had already established that Anakin had been hurt deeply that morning and was having a crisis of conscience, the court members would be too easily convinced to forget that those actions were also aggressive and brutal, threatening to both his children, and designed to improve his own standing in the Empire by corrupting Luke. Vali herself believed both versions simultaneously.

"And once you'd attacked him, and taken his hand, you were attacked by Palpatine."

"Yes."

"Did your father stop this action immediately?"

"He was injured."

"Yes or no."

"No."

"What did he do?"

"He struggled to his feet."

"And came to your aid with the next volley of lightning?"

"Not immediately."

"In fact, Commander, he didn't act until Palpatine made it plain that the next volley would kill you. The torture was acceptable--"

"No. He just... "

"No more questions."

"Redirect, Your Honor," Ivva said, coming forward.

Leia waved her on. Vali went back to the prosecutor's box.

"Commander, refresh my memory. What did your Jedi masters advise you to do in regards to your father?"

"It was plain that they... I was supposed to kill him."

"I've read some Jedi philosophy lately. Am I right in guessing that the Jedi did not make a habit of killing unnecessarily?"

"Yes. Never attack with anger or hate. Only in defense."

"And they believed that killing Lord Vader was an act of defense?"

"In combat? Yes. They weren't asking me to assassinate him."

Vali shook her head. Ivva was giving Luke an out, but he had to defend his Jedi Masters as well. She needed to remember that.

"Commander," Ivva went on, "why were your masters under the impression that you would need to kill Vader, rather than going to him and trying to convince him to come back?"

Luke finally understood what she was asking. "Because they believed it was impossible. Master Yoda once told me that starting down the dark path would mean you couldn't turn back, that it would always dominate your destiny."

"And you take that to mean that he had never seen someone turn back?"

"I take it to mean that both Master Yoda and Obi-Wan believed it impossible."

"How old was Yoda?"

"Nine hundred years old."

"That's a long time to get a sampling of sentient life."

"Yes."

"So it's fair to say that leaving the Dark Side is not a question of waking up in the morning and deciding to change the color of your uniform?"

"It's very fair to say that, Counselor. It's so hard that two of the strongest beings I know thought it was impossible. But Father did it. This court and the galaxy need to understand the magnitude of the action."

The crowd at the Palace steps went back a lot further today than it had yesterday, almost into the marketplace. It figured. That's the way people were. They hadn't wanted to hear Kit talking about how Ani had done something kind, but they were wild to hear Luke Skywalker recall pain and torture.

There were times Kerea Morlana thought that the hermits of the galaxy were the only ones who were sane, though so far she'd been able to come to her senses before the thought had much time to take root.

Vertash was walking ahead of her, holding her hand, finding a path among the people. They had no special reason to go to the market today, but it had become a habit, and it hadn't occurred to them not to go. He looked over his shoulder. "I think we're the only ones trying to go out of the Palace," he muttered.

She didn't answer him (it didn't really seem to require it). After a few minutes, the crowd finally began to thin, then to resolve itself into something of the mere busy street that it usually was in the market. Kerea's feet listed toward the fabric-seller (Vertash apparently didn't have anywhere else in mind).

When they got to the booth, though, the flaps of the tent were being rolled up. The little Toydarian who ran the place when the owner was away was packing bolts of cloth into durasteel crates.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Almost over," the Toydarian said. "Couple days, mostly legal stuff. People are watching what's going on in there or they're leaving. Time to move on." He looked at her with more respect than he had before she'd bought the cloth for Lando's clothes. "You gonna buy something, girl?"

"Hmmm? Oh, not today, no. Please send me your catalog."

She wandered away from him, a little disoriented. Vertash had let go of her hand, and he ran up behind her. "Hey, you. It's a fabric-seller. He's got a catalog. You look like you lost your best friend, and I know you didn't, because I'm right here."

She smiled, and hooked her arm through his. "It's all going to be gone after the trial. The market, the crowd. Us."

"Mmm."

"Come on, I haven't seen New Otoh yet." She headed for the arch that led down into the Gungan city. "What are we doing?" she asked, not looking at him. "I mean, after."

"Aren't we going home?" He came closer to her, put his arm around her shoulders. "Or were you, I mean did you want to... to stay in New Alderra?"

"What? No. I hadn't even thought of that." In fact, she found herself profoundly lonely among the Alderaanians, even the ones who weren't crazy. She sometimes wondered if that wasn't why the Princess didn't go there much. Ivva lived there, sure, but other than that... it was all strangers, mostly pretending to mean something to each other because it would have hurt too much not to. "I just mean-- Well, 'Tali's not coming back with us, and that will make everything different."

"Yeah."

"And you know, well, we're already off-planet, and if we want to see stuff, we've kind of got--"

"Momentum?"

"Yeah. Momentum. Kit said we didn't have to go right back with him."

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to go to Yirisu," she said, not knowing that she meant to say any such thing. The idea of going to Tash's homeworld had only occurred to her once or twice. It surprised her to find it on the tip of her tongue.

"Really?"

"Sure, really. It sounds like a nice place. And maybe your strangers will be better to us than my strangers."

"Maybe. My strangers don't have any reason to have a grudge against you."

They reached the arch, and started to walk under the river. The walls around them took on shades of blue as they went down, and the sunlight stirred the water around the tunnel into sparkling currents. "What do you want to do?" she asked.

"I just want to stay with you. I don't care where."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

She shook her head, and moved a few steps ahead of him, to a little alcove on the side of the tunnel that was set off for viewing a rather pretty eddy of sand that rose up in plumes from the riverbed. "Tash, you don't want to just tag around me. I don't know where I'm going, for one thing. I only just started learning about healing and things, and that's interesting. And I always wanted to make clothes, and now I'm getting a chance to do that. Not that it seems important."

"There's no point to being at peace if no ones doing arts." He sat down on a bench in front of her. "And that's two more options than I have. I don't have any idea what I want to do, so I figure I'll stick with you, and eventually, I'll trip over something."

Kerea frowned. "There must be something you want to be."

"I want to be Kit. Well, to do what Kit does. You know what I mean. I want to be... "

"A caregiver?"

"A good man." His voice was soft, and his eyes scanned the river absently. "I just want to be a good man. What I do for a job someday... I'd like to like it, but I don't want it to be who I am, you know? I want to be... " He shrugged, and blushed to the roots of his red hair. "You know what I mean."

She nodded. "Yes. But... "

"Come on, Kree. I've already decided who I want to spend my life with. That's pretty good for almost sixteen. I don't need a life's work yet. Besides, we're just talking about a week or so after the trial, right? You weren't talking about moving to Yirisu or something, were you?"

"No!"

"Good. Then we go to Yirisu, then go back to Sanctuary. That's the grand plan." He grinned, then kissed the tip of her nose.

"It'll be weird without Tali."

"Well, Kree, I've known Tali longer than you. She was there the night I came. I watched Kit put stitches on that cut of hers. And here's the thing--I never figured on spending the rest of my life with Dritali Neral. I love the hell out of her, but that thought just never occurred to me. Way too much drama."

Dritali slipped through the crowd after court let out, and made her way to the handmaidens' quarters. She wanted to spend time with Kit and the others before they left, but she also wanted to talk to Master Luke. She herself had broken under Vali Umbuimi's questioning -- lost her temper, slammed windows, and scared everyone in a ten person radius of her. But he had held up. She needed to know how.

And she needed to be there, because she knew it hadn't been easy for him. She was going to be spending at least the next three years as his padawan. He needed to know he could trust her to show up when things weren't so good.

She felt the crackle in the energy of the Force long before she heard footsteps in the hallway. It wasn't Master Luke, not yet. It was Anakin.

She looked up when he came in and gave him a wave. He smiled at her. "Luke will be along. His mother is speaking to him at the moment."

"Oh."

"Dritali, you need to... " He sighed. "You must let go of this attraction you have for him. He isn't merely older than you. He's your Master. Nothing could ever come of it."

"I know. I'm trying to. But this isn't about it."

She felt him rummaging around in her mind, then he shrugged and sat down beside her. "I suppose not." He laughed. "You're so matter-of-fact about everything. No denials, no arguments."

"Both of you have told me to be mindful of my feelings. I'm being mindful. Am I not doing it right?"

"You're doing it better than I ever learned to."

"That's a compliment."

"That you're in better control of your emotions than Darth Vader? There are, to put it mildly, many stronger compliments you could be given."

"Why do you feel like you can joke about him with me?"

"I suppose because you're one of two people who met Vader on his own terms, and didn't end up hating me for it. The other one is dead."

"That's not true. Luke met you on Vader's terms, and he loved you anyway."

"I'm not certain that 'love' is the right word."

"I am," Master Luke said from the door.

Dritali looked up. She'd been rather deeply into her conversation with Anakin, and she hadn't felt him coming.

Anakin didn't look surprised. Of course not. He could feel a glowbug flying around in the garden outside, if he put his mind to it. "Let me rephrase. Perhaps it was love, but of an odd sort, with no reason given other than blood obligation."

Luke grinned. "True enough. But I've found a few since." He sat down, forming the corner of their usual triangle. "Father, I wish things had gone better today..."

"Better than what?"

Dritali rolled her eyes. She was getting used to this. She thought she would miss Anakin when she started traveling with Luke. "You were fine, Master," she said. "At least she didn't goad you into slamming windows and screaming death wishes."

"I'm not fifteen." He smiled at her, then looked at Anakin. "Mother wants to talk to you."

"I know. I have to deny her something she wants. I am not looking forward to it."

"What does she want?"

"For me not to testify."

That, Dritali thought, was the best advice she'd heard all week. But she didn't say it.

Anakin uncurled his long legs and stood up. He gave a brief bow (a bit of Imperial business that no amount of time outside the Empire seemed to cure the military of; Vertash tended to give the same bow when presented to someone new, and it was a habit learned from his father), then murmured a goodbye and left.

"I want you to go spend some time with Kit," Luke said when he was gone. "You'll resent me if you don't."

"I'll go in a few minutes, if you really want me to."

"I really think you should. There's a difference. I'm not trying to get rid of you."

"But you do want to be alone."

"I need to meditate. But your company doesn't interfere with that. I just... " He shook his head, not in negation, but as if he were trying to shake something off. "I'm your Jedi master, not your older brother. I'm not going to burden you with my troubles. Did you learn anything from Ivva and Vali this morning?"

"What?"

"I know you were in court to give support to Father and to me. But I want you trying to learn wherever you are. What did you learn from Vali?"

"That the truth can sound like a lie if you cut it off at the knees."

"It wasn't a lie, Dritali. She was right--if I'd failed, it would have been nothing short of treason, leaving when I did. It was a huge gamble. I trusted Father, but I could have been wrong."

"So what am I supposed to learn?"

Luke thought about it, then laughed. "That your Jedi Master is tired, and trying too hard to draw a lesson. What I set out to say is that Vali's point of view is valid. So was mine. So was Obi-Wan's."

"What about Palpatine's?"

"I'm not going to give Palpatine any points."

It wasn't exactly a denial, but Dritali didn't push. She understood about points of view. She also understood that Master Luke was making up a teaching method as he went along. She was getting used to being his experiment, and she didn't mind at all. "I'll let you meditate, then," she said, and stood to leave.

Just as she turned toward the door, his hand squeezed her lower arm. "I appreciate you being there, Dritali, and I appreciate you coming now."

"Any time."

She left, not need to watch and see if he was able to reach meditation. The Force seemed to soothe itself around her as she moved.

Points of view. She had a feeling that wasn't a lecture she'd ever get from Anakin--he usually used the phrase rather bitterly, as a synonym for "lie told by Obi-Wan," though he apologized every single time it came out that way--but it did make her think, examine. As it happened, she agreed with Anakin's judgment about Kenobi's "point of view," but on the whole, she thought it was valuable to look at what everyone wanted and needed, and try to see how they saw. Maybe she should extend the benefit to Vali Umbuimi.

Then she remembered the way the windows had slammed, the way Umbuimi had forced her to admit that she wanted to kill her own father... that wasn't a point of view she wanted to share.

Kit Binai disconnected the holo-comm with slow fingers.

There was one transport to Tatooine leaving tomorrow morning. The next one was two weeks from now.

He could already hear Anakin, or any of the others: Solo will fly you back, or Luke, or...

But Kit knew that once they got into that, there would always be one more thing that had to be done. If he wanted to get to Tatooine, he would take a commercial transport, just as he'd taken one to get here. And he wanted to get to Tatooine.

That was the thing.

He'd planned to stick with Ani to the bitter end on this, but nearly every night, he was feeling a need to contact Gilesa at Sanctuary, to find out if anything was wrong, if he was needed there. He was. Gilesa could handle it, but it was his place, and he needed to be in it.

As if on cue--and given the Jedi, it might be--Ani swept past the door of the suite. Kit stood and went out.

It took a few steps to catch up with him, but Kit was still quick. "Ani."

Ani turned around, a slight smile on his face. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry... you were headed somewhere."

"Amidala wants to lecture me about testifying."

"You'll be fine. And she understands why you have to do it; she just would rather none of this was happening."

A laugh. "Thanks, Kit."

"I have to leave before you testify tomorrow."

"Kit, I never expected you to stay as long as you have. This is no way to spend your vacation. Will the children be going back with you?"

"I have to ask them." A hot point of laser drilled into Kit's heart. "Of course, Dritali won't."

Anakin put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Luke will watch her well, and her soul is in good keeping with him."

"I know. But I'll miss her."

"I know you will. I'll make sure Luke doesn't decide to sequester her and not let her visit."

"I'd appreciate it."

"Well," Kit said, "that's all I had to say. The shuttle goes up to the transport at sunup."

"We'll come see you off," Ani said, and smiled ruefully. "Even if she's not speaking to me tomorrow."

"She always speaks to you. Go on. Talk to her."

Ani nodded, and went on down the hall.

Kit locked the door of the suite (one botched journalistic break-in had been enough to instill the habit), then went off in search of Vertash and Kerea. He found them in the Great Hall. Kree had a bag full of Gungan water-beads, and Vertash was helping her string them onto a bit of transparisteel wire. He was starting to look restless. If Kree didn't stop the highly feminized hobbies pretty soon, he'd end up prizefighting again. Kit was accustomed to Tash's occasional need to test himself, and didn't worry about it--Tash never chose an opponent who was too strong (or too weak), and so never got hurt (or hurt anyone) seriously--but neither the Naboo nor the Alderaanians particularly approved of sport fighting (though Kerea herself showed a sneaking appreciation of it) and he was likely to get himself in trouble.

He pulled out a chair and sat down opposite them. A bead squirted off the end of the wire and burst on the table, spattering his hand, and making Kerea look up from her work and notice him for the first time.

"Hey, Kit."

Kit looked between them, just enjoying the shapes of their faces.

Vertash waved a freckled hand in front of his face. "Kit! You in there?"

"I'm here." He sighed and leaned forward. "But I won't be for too long."

"What?" Kerea's eyes got wide and frightened, and Kit realized that he'd given entirely the wrong impression. No matter how long he'd worked with orphans, he still tended to forget the secret panic they shared about losing people.

He took her hand. "Don't worry, Kree, I'm fine. But I need to go back to Sanctuary tomorrow morning."

"Oh." She took a few deep breaths. "Sorry. Just heard you wrong. I guess we better pack, then, huh?"

"That's what I wanted to ask. I know the two of you have been thinking about staying, and I'm sure it can be arranged with Amidala... "

"Maybe for a few days," Vertash said. They exchanged a glance, full of what Kit supposed they thought was a secret. "But we were thinking, maybe we could travel a little."

"Maybe to Yirisu," Kerea put in hopefully. "You know, where Tash is from."

"I know Yirisu. I think you'd enjoy it."

"Then you'd be okay with it? With us traveling together?" Vertash's eyes were deep and serious, and Kit decided not to pretend not to know what he was really asking.

"Tash, I know you're both intelligent and in possession of good judgment. You know where I stand on this."

He nodded.

"Did I miss something?" Kerea asked.

Vertash shrugged. "Kit's not quite in the dark about... you know."

"Oh."

"If I give you permission to travel together, will you both give me your word that you won't do anything foolish that can seriously put up roadblocks on your future?"

There was another of those exchanged glances, then Kerea said, "What if we got married?"

"At fifteen? That would be one of those foolish things, Kree. Do I have your word?"

"How old do you want us to be?" Tash asked.

Kit thought about it. "Eighteen. When you're eighteen, if you're still together and want to talk about getting married, you'll have my blessing."

They looked at each other, then back at him. "All right," Tash said. "You have my word."

Kerea thought about it a minute longer, then nodded. "Mine too."

"Good. Then you can travel together." He looked at them sitting together, and suddenly they seemed like the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, and the thought of leaving them behind seemed absurd, impossible... He stood, leaned across the table, and held them to him. "You may always come home to me," he said. "No matter where you are, how old you are, or what you've done. You can always come home."

"What's going on?"

They all turned to the door. Dritali was standing there. She'd taken her hair down around her padawan braid, and her scar looked red in the light. She looked like the same girl who had come to the door of Sanctuary so long ago.

Her face changed then, her eyes first widening then closing as she fought for control. "Then it's time," she said.

"Yes." Kit held out his arms to her, and she ran into them for the last time.

"For what it's worth, Amidala, I don't believe you should try to do this."

Amidala nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice. She was half-airborn when she turn to see Obi-Wan's shimmering form hovering beside the rail of the balcony off her quarters. "Don't do that. If you're going to appear, do something before you start talking."

"Would it alarm you less if I simply materialized in front of you?"

She thought about it. "No. I guess not. But when Ani did this... well, I could always feel him before he said anything or showed up."

"Anyone within a four system radius of Anakin can feel him," Obi-Wan said with a slight grin. "You most of all."

"Obi-Wan, he isn't going to defend himself if he testifies. He'll sit up there and accuse himself."

"That's true, Amidala, but to be fair, the accusations are hardly baseless."

"You're not being helpful."

"To the contrary, I am offering the best help you could take." There was a familiar flickering of energy in the air. Obi-Wan appeared to look up, and said, "Anakin is coming."

"I know. We already covered that."

Anakin came around the corner. Amidala was surprised to see a look of extreme apprehension on his face. There was something childlike about it... stubborn, willful, set. She wasn't at all amused, and was in fact somewhat offended by it. It took her a moment to realize that it was because he was approaching her like a rebellious teenager getting ready to cross his mother.

Well, if you're going to tell him what he may say and where he may take his stands, and what's safe for him and what's not... well, what do you expect?

She sighed. "Ani, we need to talk."

"All three of us?" he asked, looking significantly at Obi-Wan.

"Don't be annoyed with Obi-Wan. He's on your side."

It was difficult to surprise Anakin--he so often had a feel for what was coming--but this information clearly wasn't what he'd expected. He looked across at Obi-Wan's image, seemed to confirm it, then smiled and shook his head in a flabbergasted, but delighted, way. "It's been a long time since we three have held council together."

"And as usual," Obi-Wan said, "we have entirely different priorities."

"What are yours, old man?"

Obi-Wan chuckled softly. "My aging has stopped, padawan."

"And mine has reversed."

"I see your point."

Amidala stopped herself from just slipping out of the conversation to enjoy seeing them interact in the old, familiar way. "I'm not certain what Obi-Wan's priorities are, Ani. Mine are to keep you from damning yourself."

"I already did that, my love. My own priority is to make sure the truth is known."

"And mine," Obi-Wan said, "is to make you tell the story to yourself."

Amidala sighed. Obi-Wan had erred in telling Luke Ani wasn't redeemable; now he seemed to be overcompensating by assuming Ani wasn't fully aware of his own life and his own motivations. "What happened, happened," she said. "Ani is going to go up there and start giving a long list of... of misdeeds... "

"War crimes," Ani corrected her.

"...and the law is unlikely to care greatly what he felt like while he was doing it."

"That's why my priority is different," Obi-Wan said. "My priority has little to do with the outcome of this trial. It will be what it will be."

"Will you both stop it?" Ani asked. "Please? This isn't Obi-Wan's decision to make, based on some misguided notion of my lack of self-awareness. Nor is it yours, Am, though I understand your fear, and promise I will not exaggerate my crimes, nor be less than vigorous in my self-defense."

You won't keep that one, Amidala thought bitterly. You don't even know when yo'ure being "less than vigorous." But she said nothing.

"My notion is not misguided," Obi-Wan said mildly. "If you don't believe me, ask your son." With that, he faded, and his presence blinked out.

Ani looked over his shoulder. "Was I that rude when I was dead?"

It was the last thing Amidala had expected him to say, and it surprised a laugh out of her. "No. You were very polite ghost. I was just asking Obi-Wan why he couldn't be more like you."

He turned around and took her hands, smiling back at her, then sat down on the balcony rail. She let him draw her close, and stood with her hips brushing the insides of his knees. He kissed her fingers. "I know what you want, Amidala. I know you would rather I didn't speak, and let the court decide without my direct confirmation of anything. And I won't lie to you--I do not plan to exonerate myself of the charges which are true, nor to paint myself as a madman."

"You're the only defendant in history whose own attorney will have to declare him a hostile witness." Her voice sounded petulant, and she knew it. "I'm sorry, Ani. I know this is your choice. I don't mean to sound like your mother."

"What do you think she would say?" he asked abruptly.

"What?"

"My mother." He leaned forward and kissed Amidala's nose. "And don't worry, my love, I have no confusion between the two of you. You always fretted over me. It has never felt maternal."

"I've never been this much -- "

"Don't finish that sentence with 'older,' Amidala. Don't even think about it."

She grinned. There was no other way to finish it, so she left it unfinished.

"So, what do you think Mom would have me do here?"

Amidala thought of her brief (if intense) contact with Shmi Skywalker. She'd worried, she'd been frightened... but she'd also recognized her son's stubborn-ness, and been willing to recognize when he was right.

As he was now.

Damn. I'd rather he were wrong.

"She'd tell you that it was your path, and you had to choose it. She'd say to tell the truth."

"I think so, too. Of all the ghosts in my life, I think she's the one I'd most like to see."

There was no answer to that, so Amidala just leaned forward and hooked her hands behind Ani's neck. She kissed his forehead, then just leaned against him. His arms slipped around her waist, and he held her loosely. "I'm frightened, Ani. I almost went mad when you died. Did I tell you that? I felt you go and I thought I'd been ripped in two."

"The death penalty is off the table."

It wasn't an answer--Ani in a forced labor mining colony was not much more of a cheerful thought than Ani floating as a ghost again. And if the other prisoners knew what he'd been condemned for--as they most certainly would, given the publicity--he'd be a target, and be at war for his life from the day he arrived. The Republic didn't need to sully its hands with the death penalty--the prisoners would try to administer it themselves, and if Ani didn't allow it, he'd have to start killing again, and...

His lips pressed against the bridge of her nose, and he folded her into his arms. "It won't be like that, Am. I can't see everything you're thinking, but no matter how bad it gets, I won't spend my life at war with everyone around me. I did that before."

"Don't testify."

"My testimony will change nothing. It will confirm, but Leia knows what I am guilty of already. I want to allay your fears, Amidala. Tell me how."

She snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Find a way to change time. Don't let it happen. Make it not true anymore, Ani. Just make it go away." The wish was so childish and impossible that she wanted to laugh at herself for being silly, but it was so huge and helpless that instead she broke into tears. "Make it not true anymore," she whispered again.

He stroked her hair gently, and said nothing for a very long time. "I wish for that more than anything. But it is beyond any power, dark or light, that I have or have ever known. I am sorry, Amidala. But I can't make it go away, and I have to tell the truth."

There were no more words to say.

He awoke to her sweet scent and the wonder of her soft slight weight resting against his side. Morning light crept across the windowsill, motes in the air turning it into a golden stream that swirled and shifted with the air currents. Almost afraid to move, Anakin turned his eyes to observe her peaceful face.

So beautiful. How he had convinced her to marry him remained beyond him. Why she had continued to love him also remained a mystery. Had he indeed managed to turn back time? For she appeared no older than that last time he'd seen her, when she'd begged him to leave Palpatine and return to her and his family.

But no, he remembered the dress she still wore from the previous night and realized they had fallen asleep in each others arms. Seeking comfort from her distress, she had refused to let him leave for his own quarters. So he had put aside his misgivings and allowed her to curl beside him, holding him as tightly as he held her, as if she feared he might disappear before her eyes.

She'd tried to stay awake, but gradually... without any suggestion from his Force abilities... her eyes had drooped and her body relaxed against his. He'd nearly wept then at her trust and longing swept through him. Was it fair of him to withhold himself from her? Was he in truth merely punishing himself with his vow of celibacy?

Despite the bright sun, a figure wavered into view in one of the darker corners of the room. Anakin tensed, awaiting Obi-Wan's condemnation for weakness.

The Force spirit shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. This was the younger master, not the old man Vader had struck down.

"I won't begrudge you this, Anakin. Perhaps Qui-Gon has influenced me, but since I first appeared to you and you made your own judgement I have come to change my beliefs about this." Obi-Wan studied the sleeping Amidala. "She has suffered so much because of us."

"Us?"

"Indeed. The Jedi... At every turn we opposed her decision to marry you and then, we did nothing to succor her when she came to us for aid. Perhaps if we had, the Order would have survived."

Anakin supressed the start of shock at Obi-Wan's words. "Master, you feel she had that much power? Enough to stop me and Palpatine?"

Obi-Wan's shade shrugged. "Who knows, Ani? It's all in the past. Still, Qui-Gon and I have taken this before the Jedi Council and have argued the point many times. Now... we have persuaded them you have imposed an overly harsh sentence on not only yourself, but her as well." He began to fade. "Consider it well, padawan. Just who will pay the penance here? You or her..."

With that, he vanished, leaving a perplexed former Sith Lord gently holding his wife. Almost fearing to wake her, Ani pressed his lips to her temple and sighed. He already had come to nearly the same conclusion as Obi-Wan. Yes, he had inflicted a painful punishment on himself, for he had missed Amidala beyond belief all those years and it had taken all his strength of will to keep himself from her when he returned.

What he hadn't considered... Lord, did he really ever consider her?... had been what it would do to her. His hold tightened and she became restless until he made himself relax again.

But it was too late and she stretched like a sleepy cat, her body pressed firmly against his. Anakin groaned and shut his eyes tightly for a moment before looking into her slumberous eyes. Joy lit them, bringing her fully awake.

"Oh, Ani. You have no idea how wonderful it is to wake up next to you again." Her wonderful smile lit those incredible eyes, truly filling her entire face with enjoyment.

Though he still had doubts of its wisdom, he pulled her closer yet. "How true, love. In fact, once this trial is over I intend to remarry you. Surely the court will allow us a short time together."

She said nothing, merely kissed his jaw and embedded herself more deeply in his side. He sighed, wishing they could remain like this forever. Silently, he made yet another vow. He would be with her forever, even if he must leave her side. For he would give her a part of himself and strengthen their bond even more.

He considered the ramifications and concluded use of his Force abilities in this matter didn't constitute an abuse of power. Of that he would be the first to admit he had done as Vader. Never again would he use his powers to hurt, to kill, to destroy. Only for creation, for life and good. He must turn those negative feelings into forces for good, binding instead of killing those who worked for evil.

Ani smiled and Amidala looked up into his face with a question clearly written in her eyes.

"Time to rise, beloved. The palace stirs," he whispered.

She nodded and reluctantly allowed him to leave her side. He turned to her, offering his hand to help her up. Her eyes continued to study him before she accepted it and when she stood, she moved back into his arms.

"All I ask, Ani, is that you love me. I don't know how this whole debacle will end, but promise me you won't leave me again."

He sighed. "I'm afraid that is a difficult promise to make and keep, Am. But I promise this... You will always be mine and I will always be yours."

Leia hadn't gotten much sleep and what little had come her way had been tortured with more dreams of burning and blood. An image tickled at the back of her mind... Her father's face, the one he wore presently, somehow disfigured in a way she'd not seen before. Suddenly, the image shifted to a vision of the fight between her brother and her father before the spider the Galaxy had known as Palpatine.

She could hear her father's threat to turn her if Luke refused to join him and saw the fury in her brother's eyes as he attacked Vader. Vader...

Her eyes flew open to stare into the greyness of the room. Dawn surely approached and she felt as if the night had just begun. With a shudder, she recalled bits and pieces of her dreams. Disturbing bits and pieces and the wrenching realization that Luke hadn't trusted her ability to refute the Dark Side if Vader sought her out.

It galled her, yet somehow, deep inside she realized he probably knew her better than almost anyone, Han included. Luke had looked inside her heart and seen the seething cauldron of her passions. A rueful smile stretched her lips. What a poor Jedi she would have made! There is no passion... Hah!

Sometimes she felt as if her royal mask would choke her. Vader must have sensed how much she resembled him in some strange way. Perhaps that had been the reason he befriended her as a child. Perhaps that was why he prevented her from flying at Tarkin when that toad had ordered Alderaan's destruction.

She supressed a groan and managed to extricate herself from the arm Han had flung over her waist without awakening him. Her head ached like a herd of banthas had stampeded through it. Her cold fingertips massaged her throbbing temples as she padded over to the window.

The sun had begun to peek over the Naboo hills, shedding golden light over the nearly healed land as well as the old scars of the Emperor's destruction. The sight reminded her of her own psyche as well as the New Republic's. Too much pain and suffering had occured to forget. Now, if only forgiveness could follow...

"Didn't sleep well, did you, hon?" Han's sleepy voice startled her, but she managed to keep from jumping. His warm arms enfolded her and she leaned back into him.

"Not much. I'll be so glad when this is over, yet I'm almost afraid of it ending."

Han didn't reply to that and instead changed the subject. "Kit's leaving today. He's taking Pippa back to Sanctuary, but the others... Well, Dritali's Luke's now and from what Kit says, Vertash and Kerea have decided to do some traveling on their own."

"Hmmm... I'm surprised he didn't object to that. After all, they're only fifteen."

Han shrugged. "Dunno. My guess is he did, but then realized even if he forbid them they'd probably do it anyway."

Leia grinned. "I wonder how you know so much? Any chance you would have done something like that at their age?"

Her husband gave a snort of laughter, not saying another word before turning her around in his arms to thoroughly kiss her. She remained quiet until he came up for air, then Han didn't give her an opening to ask more awkward questions.

"Time to get dressed for breakfast. Kit said he's leaving afterwards. He's antsy to get back to his other kids." He pulled her away from the window and her morose musings.

When they finished getting ready, the sun had warmed and lit the room. Perversely, Leia wished it had dawned grey and rainy, feeling that would have matched her mood more appropriately.

With a flourish, Han opened the door without out looking into the hall and gestured for her to go through first. She shook her head with an amused smile and stepped into the corridor.

Her mouth dropped open as her parents emerged from the queen's quarters. She'd been married long enough to recognize the fact they'd spent the night together and had risen not long before.

"Better close your mouth, Leia or the flies'll start landing there," Han whispered, laughter glinting in his eyes as he followed her gaze. "What's the matter? Can't a couple of old married folks spend time together?"

Without taking her gaze from the two people she never expected to see like that, Leia punched her husband and felt her face heat. She knew it unreasonable, but somehow... Well, parents weren't supposed to do that sort of thing.

Oh to the seven Jedi hells with it! She knew better, but it still made for an uncomfortable meeting. Part of her wanted to duck back into her room and pretend she'd never seen them, the other part wanted to rail at them for their foolish and wanton behavior.

As if the two people she contemplated felt her gaze on them, Anakin and Amidala turned to see their daughter and her husband standing stock still in the hall. Leia's irritation and embarrassment cooled a bit when both of the older adults turned bright red, stammering out explanations.

"It's not what it looks like," Ani tried to assure them.

"Now, Leia, don't make assumptions..." Mother's voice sounded more than a little flustered.

Leia didn't answer either one, just sniffed and raised an eyebrow. Both of her parents ground to halt, Father's face becoming set in determination and Mother's taking on her 'queen' mode.

"We have nothing to explain," Amidala declared. "If I want to spend the night with my husband, that is our business and ours alone."

Father put a protective hand on Mother's shoulder. "Perhaps we should adjourn to breakfast. I want to talk to Kit before he leaves for Tatooine."

Leia gave a nod and stalked past her unrepentant parents, Han trailing behind. He gave his in-laws a shrug, as if to say he couldn't understand why Leia had gotten so upset.

It irked her that he didn't comprehend why she felt the way she did. But then, she had to remember his upbringing. She could feel Father's embarassment replaced with an irritation of his own.

She's my wife, daughter. We have the right to be together. No matter what you decide in this case, we will be together. I love her and for some strange reason, she still loves me.

A very subdued quartet of people descended on the dining room, though the emotions swelling in at least three of them made Luke look up from his food with a frown. Leia gave him a quelling glare to stave off any questions, but she knew her brother wouldn't let it alone.

She forced herself to greet Kit and the children cheerfully and wondered if she would ever have a normal life. Deep inside, she doubted it. Her parents were anything but normal and she had to admit, neither was her brother. Then again, who was she to point fingers? After all, she had dipped periously close to the dark side in her anger more than once. She toyed with her food, appetite lost in her unhappy contemplation.

Han's fingers closed over hers briefly. "It'll be okay. You'll do fine. Let it go. It's time to move on."

His whispered words made her sigh, but she picked up her tattered self-esteem and put it on like a well-used and well-known cloak. After seeing Kit off, they'd be back in the courtroom and she'd have to listen to Father on the stand. Her stomach clenched, driving what little hunger for food she had completely away.

She could only wonder why she felt cold and hot all at the same time. Even facing Vader on her cruiser after spiriting away the Death Star plans hadn't made her so nervous.

Pah! What kind of pusilaneous creature had she become? Leia straightened her spine and dug into her cooling food. No miserable encounter with her wayward parents or thoughts of listening to Father recount his sins would make her weak. After all, she had sprung from the loins of a great Jedi knight and a Naboo queen. She could stand up to anything and had done so more than once. Then why did she dread the conclusion of this trial so much?

Her gaze flickered over the two people who had become so important to her. Their heads bent together in conversation, dark and light, brought tears to her eyes. How could she stand to separate them again? Leia ground her teeth and made a vow to make every effort to satisfy justice and do the right thing for them and her.

The shuttle had been delayed due to technical difficulties. Kit shuffled his feet, torn between desperately wanting to leave Naboo for his home and staying to see it to the end. The need to return to Tatooine had won out, but he knew he'd leave a part of his heart here on this cool, rain-drenched planet.

He'd caught a quick bite to eat before the others had begun to stir, in some ways wanting to be gone before they could see him off. It hadn't happened. Now he stood amidst those he had come to love as his own, fighting back tears. In his heart of hearts he knew Tash and Kree would find their own way without him. Oh, they might visit him occasionally, but they had grown beyond Sanctuary's walls.

"My old friend, don't despair. Things will work out for us all," Ani quietly tried to reassure him.

Kit nodded with a half-hearted smile. "I know. Still doesn't make this any easier. And of course, you know if the court does decide in such a way that you aren't confined, you must come visit us."

He embraced each adult in turn, then the young ones he must release to their new lives. Without another word, he took Pippa's hand and walked up the waiting shuttle's ramp. He had vowed he wouldn't look back, but the little girl hadn't made any such promise. She tugged on his hand to make him stop.

Reluctantly, Kit turned with her to wave at the small group of beloved people. He swallowed against the rising distress, then gently urged Pippa into the hold. As they strapped in he could feel the ship shudder with the ramp's closing.

Within moments, the surface of Naboo began to shrink away beneath them and then the green-blue ball of the planet grew smaller and smaller. He tore his gaze away from the sight to stare at the velvet and diamond vista before him.

"Prepare for lightspeed," came the pilot's voice, then the familiar rush of stars swept away any trace of Naboo.

Kit settled back into his seat, feeling Pippa's tiny hand squeeze his.

"Are there gonna be any kids my age?" she asked.

He gave her a warm smile. "Yes, and some older and some younger. You'll like your new home."

"I'm glad I'm coming with you instead of staying with those other people."

"Why thank you, Pippa. You're certain you wouldn't have preferred a Mama and Papa to live with?"

The child cocked her head at him. "Nah. 'Sides, you need me more than them."

With that, she turned her attention back to the datapad she'd brought with her. Kit thought about her words. Had he really seemed so needy?

He forced his thoughts away from that and toward anticipation of seeing Sanctuary and its inhabitants. With a shiver, he realized he longed for his desert homeworld terribly. All he could do for Ani was to lend his long distance support. He closed his eyes and prepared to catch a few moments of rest before contacting home. Somehow he could only hope he could fill the holes Dritali, Vertash and Kerea had left in his family.

Anakin watched Kit's shuttle disappear with mixed feelings. Glad that his oldest friend would return to the place he felt most comfortable, but saddened at the loss of his physical support. As angry as Kit had been when Dritali had chosen to become Luke's padawan, Anakin knew his friend truly wouldn't begrudge her path.

Amidala's hand, tucked into the crook of his arm, slid down to his hand and squeezed his fingers gently. He looked down into her worried eyes and attempted to give her reassurance with a slight smile.

"It's still early, Ani. Do you need time to prepare for... for later?" She danced around the issue, a totally un-Amidala like thing.

"For a bit, but first..." He turned to the others, who had turned to go and ready themselves before making their way to the courtroom.

"I wish to make an announcement."

They paused and gave him their attention, expressions varying from dread to anticipation to... what? A hint of amusement? Now where did that come from?

He continued. "When this is over I have asked my wife to renew our vows." Meeting Leia's astonished gaze, he went on deliberately. "No matter the outcome, I will remain her husband and do the best I can to be the father I should have been to my children."

Silence reigned for several moments. Then Luke made his way toward him.

"Do you wish us present, Father?"

"Of course!" He sought Leia's face again, including her despite her attempts to withdraw. "It won't matter what sentence the judge decides. This is a separate issue all together."

His daughter's shoulders straightened and determination lit her face. Good. He hadn't liked the defeated look she had worn during breakfast. He smirked for moment. Despite his own embarrassment at being caught coming out of Amidala's rooms, he had perversely enjoyed Leia's shock once his own had faded.

Luke nodded, then gently shooed the others from the hangar. Anakin stood beside Amidala, watching them reenter the palace. He supposed they should go back as well. They both needed to prepare for his testimony.

But still they stood there, finally alone as the flight crews dispersed to do whatever assigned tasks they had unfinished. Time seemed to stand still as well.

A gentle breeze wafted the sweet smell of Alderaanian flowers into the cavernous hangar. The sound of birds singing floated with it and both remembered the days of their first courtship.

"Don't do it, Ani..." she began, but he pressed a finger to her lips to quiet her words.

Then he followed with his mouth, kissing her until both became breathless. When he broke away at last, he held her so close she could barely catch her breath again.

"I hate it when you do that," she protested in his ear.

He chuckled. "What? Try to distract you?"

"Yes... because you do, for awhile at least."

They both laughed a bit. Ani scooped her into his arms and carried her inside to one of the tiny cubbies used for donning flight gear.

"What are you doing?" Amidala asked in consternation.

"This..." He sat her on one of the benches, then knelt between her knees. Slowly, he passed his fingers over her face as if memorizing each contour. Everywhere they went, he followed with his lips.

"Ani... You need to get ready for today," she murmured.

"Mmmm... I will... I am... I just need something to remind me of why I should continue on in this form."

"Oh. In that case..." She framed his face with her own hands, bringing her mouth to his until he felt his heart pound in concert with hers.

She broke away with a gasp. "Ani, we can't... There isn't time..."

"I know, love. Besides, we must wait until Leia decides exactly what price I must pay." His words, so calm, gave no indication of the tulmult she stirred in his mind, soul, heart, and body.

He stood, grateful for the flowing Naboo robes he'd chosen to wear and held his hand out to help her up. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with love and desire.

"Then perhaps you'd best meditate or else you'll likely have trouble concentrating on the matter at hand," she teased.

He dipped his head and allowed her to leave the room before him to head back toward the palace and the courtroom. Watching her long hair gently sway against the column of her spine as she walked merely increased the fires burning in his heart and body.

Indeed, the matter at hand, my love, is not all that different. I intend to love you thoroughly and properly once this is finished. Then I can pay my penance with a clear conscience.

I'm not going to cry, Dritali thought, standing outside the hangar and trying to catch her breath. Master Luke had tried to comfort her, but she didn't want to spoil his happiness in his parents' announcement by dwelling on her own loss, which wasn't exactly unanticipated. Kree and Tash had left before the announcement, and they weren't in the hallway when Dritali had gone out.

She hadn't ended up with much time to spend with Kit, and their goodbye had been a hurried thing that wasn't at all satisfying.

Yes, no chance to wallow in melodramatic teenage angst, and decry the meaning of your childhood walking away from...

She gasped, and bit down on her hand, feeling exceptionally stupid for not letting anyone stay with her. This was hard. Of course, she'd also have felt exceptionally stupid trying to explain it to anyone in the Skywalker family, whose trials made her own pain look a toddler whining over a broken toy.

There was a rustle of skirts and the hangar door opened again. Dritali tried to shrink back, but Amidala's dress caught briefly on the doorframe and she looked up to catch it. Her face was flushed and Dritali thought her lips looked a tiny bit swollen. She smiled in an embarrassed way, then it faded into concern. "Oh, 'Tali," she said, "I'm sorry. We were... less than careful with you. Ani even took me by surprise and it was... "

"A pretty big surprise," Dritali said. "It's okay. I don't break very easily." But when Amidala touched her arm, she thought she might very well shatter into a hundred pieces. She responded to it by becoming perfectly still. Meditate. Control your emotions.

Amidala just stood and waited for her to do it. She wasn't a Jedi, but she'd spent enough time around them to understand what Dritali was doing and why she was doing it.

Once Dritali had calmed herself--and that hand on her arm, just patiently held there, helped immeasurably--Amidala started to walk down the corridor, leading Dritali along beside her. "You come and sit with me today, 'Tali. This day started well, but... "

"It's not going to be easy."

"No."

They swept around the corner, Amidala's long skirt swaying in the breeze of their passing. For Dritali, it brought back jumbled memories of walking through Manor House on Zompesha with her mother, but those images and feelings were so old and faded that recognizing them was more of an intellectual exercise than an emotional one.

Before they reached the public areas of the Palace, Amidala began to speak again. Her mind was clearly on the morning, not on the day ahead, but that was all right. "Dritali, I... this morning... I know that in the netherworld trial... well, what I mean to say is... "

"I'd make a guess about allowances made, but it wouldn't be my business."

Amidala gave her a smile. "I suppose not. What... what did Ani's guards say?"

"Oh, they were at the end of your corridor when we found them."

"They followed?"

"No. They just guessed."

"Good security around here."

"Ani's not a flight risk."

Amidala's face because faraway, distracted. "No. No, Ani was never a flight risk, once he got where he meant to be."

There was no further chance to talk. The next corner swept them into a mob of reporters--the route from the hangar wasn't secure, and Dritali truly hoped Ani would remember that--and Dritali had to serve as Amidala's security detail. She drew her shoulders back, and put a hand on the hilt of her lightsaber. The reporters didn't seem to know what to make of it, but they did fall back enough to let them through.

Court got settled quickly. The family was in no mood to prolong the issue, and the spectators were as eager as playgoers waiting for the final act. Leia took her seat, her face the same blank mask it always was at the beginning of the day, and the bailiffs led Ani in without incident.

Ivva rose. "Your honor, the defense calls the defendant, Anakin Skywalker, to the stand."

Leia nodded. "Anakin Skywalker, you are not obliged to testify. Do you understand this?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Ani said, moving up to stand beside Ivva.

"Very well. Proceed."

Ivva swore Ani in and he sat down. His face was carefully composed, but Dritali caught the glance he threw at Amidala. There were promises in it, but not about what would happen here and now. Amidala recognized this, and her hand tightened around Dritali's.

Dritali, surprised, returned the gesture. Giving comfort somehow reduced the need to take it.

"Your Honor," Ivva said, "may I have some latitude with this witness?"

"If you'd like."

"And, should it become necessary, may I treat this witness as hostile?"

"This witness is the defendant, Counselor."

"Your Honor?"

"Permission granted."

"All right, then." Ivva took a deep breath, then began her last examination.

Lando had never figured that he'd think of his Bespin clothes as "dressing down," but after wearing Naboo royal robes for a few months, he felt absolutely inconspicuous in a bright blue silk shirt and gray trousers. He didn't especially like the feeling, but he was under the same stricture as Amidala--he couldn't appear at an official proceeding in royal garb unless he was presiding (unless, of course, she was, but that was his only out).

He'd skipped most of the trial since his own testimony, but he wanted to be here today. I want to see how Ani's going to snake his way out of this one, was the conscious thought. Unconsciously... well, he didn't know what his unconscious reason was, only that the conscious one was about as genuine as tap shoes for Hutt. The odds on Ani even trying to snake his way out were nil.

He slipped into the back of the courtroom as Ivva took a deep breath, and walked over to her client.

"Good morning, Anakin," she said.

"Good morning."

Ivva didn't say anything for several seconds, and Lando had a bad moment of thinking that she couldn't figure out what her argument was going to be. Finally, she steepled her fingers in front of her chin and said, "We have heard from several Imperial officers that your role was matter of some confusion to them. For the record, could you tell the Court what your position was in the Empire, and what your responsibilities were?"

"My title was Lord of the Sith. My responsibility was directly to Palpatine."

"To do what?"

"To strike fear into the hearts of those who opposed him."

"I see."

Lando frowned, not at all sure what Ivva was doing. It wasn't making Ani sound very good.

Ivva started pacing. "So your position was one of loyalty to Palpatine."

"Technically."

"And in your mind?"

"I... disliked Palpatine."

"But you served the Empire?"

"Yes. Loyally."

"What was the Empire?"

Anakin gave her a look that was an almost amusing mix of confusion and irritation. "What do you mean?"

Ivva's voice became stronger. "I was a good Alderaanian girl. I hated the Empire and everything about it. But I've noticed something odd since I started talking to officers for this trial. I've liked several of them. They couldn't have seen the same Empire I did and still sworn loyalty. So what was the Empire you saw?"

"It hardly matters. It was what it was. There were good men in it, but it was... "

"That's not what I asked. Your Honor?"

Leia looked suspicious, but she said, "The witness will answer the question as it was asked."

"Anakin?" Ivva prodded.

"All right. I suppose... I suppose I saw the Empire as being different from the Republic. What came after the Republic was so horrendous that even the old have forgotten..." He shuddered. "The Empire, whatever it was, was not the Republic. Or so I thought. Of course, the Empire really was everything that was wrong with the Repub--"

Ivva held up her hand, cutting him off impatiently. "I am not interested in what you've discovered since. You were satisfied at the time that the Empire was not the Republic."

"Yes."

"What was it? What did it represent to you?"

"Your Honor," Vali Umbuimi said, "I object to this entire line of questioning. The defendant said it himself: The Empire was what it was."

Leia rubbed her temples. Lando watched her with some sympathy. She looked to Ivva. "Counselor, is this going somewhere?"

Ivva paced again. Once up the room, then half-way back down. She stopped, and he eyes were far away. "When I was a child," she said, "my parents had a way of catching me whenever I was about to do something wrong. Usually my father. He'd grab me by the scruff of my dress and say, 'Ivvie, just what do you think you're doing?' And he'd make me answer." Her eyes cleared. "That's what I'm asking, and I want an answer. I want to know just what my client thought he was doing."

Luke had always dreaded it when Uncle Owen gave him a hard look and said "Explain yourself." It wasn't that the worst punishments followed that--Uncle Owen, for all his gruffness, hadn't been much on bad punishments, and the worst were for carelessness on the farm, which caused loss of income and, more importantly, could cost a limb to someone not paying attention. Explain yourself was a terror because the minute he started talking, all the reasons that had seemed so good at the time always started sounding foolish and inadequate.

After the battle over Endor, he'd had a dream of Uncle Owen looking over the destruction in the bunker clearing and saying, Explain yourself, Luke. Why were you off chasing personal business when there was work to be done?

In the dream, for the first time, the answer had come easily: Don't you see, Uncle Owen? Bringing Father back was the most important thing I could do for the Rebellion and the galaxy.

The dream-Uncle had given one of his rare understanding looks, then turned away. Well, boy, let's say I might have some idea of what you mean, but you're going to have a hard time convincing anyone else of it.

Luke wondered if Father was now hearing some similar voice. Obi-Wan's perhaps. Father's face was pale, and all his strength from the morning seemed to be fading. Ivva had posed the question in the only way likely to open the door to defending himself, but it was still a terrifying question, and an almost unanswerable one.

"Anakin?" Ivva said. "Can you continue?"

Father nodded. "Yes. I can continue. I'm not sure where to start."

"That's fair. It was a vague question. Let me ask something a bit more specific: When you envisioned the end of the war, how did you envision the galaxy?"

"Confident," Father said after awhile. "I thought everyone would feel safe and secure. Everything would be clean and ordered."

"What about non-humans? Palpatine's thoughts on the subject -- "

"Were idiotic. I thought so at the time and I still do. Though at the time I recall thinking that I wasn't understanding him properly."

"And yet you did nothing to stop the humans-only laws?"

Father knit his brow, and Luke could almost see his mind working. "I was... " He shook his head. "This is difficult to explain. I never sat down and wrote out my reasoning. Had I done so, I would have realized it was -- "

"But you didn't," Ivva interrupted.

"No. I suppose I believed... the Republic had reigned for 10,000 years. I thought of the war as a temporary period of chaos while its ruins fell. I would put an end to it as efficiently as I could, and wipe out the chaos and lawlessness."

"And Palpatine would magically change his views when the war was over?"

"It never occurred to me that Palpatine would outlive the war."

"And you would have been Emperor?"

Luke expected a quick "Yes," on that, given his attitude at Bespin, but instead, Father thought about it deeply. Finally, he just shook his head in a dazed way. "I don't know. I said it, but I... when I looked at my idea of utopia... I was still doing my own job. I loathed politics then, and still do. The idea of what would come after was very unreal to me. I believed in it, but it was the way a child believes in a fairy story. It was a nice thought, but it didn't change what had to be done at that moment."

"Very pragmatic of you."

"Some might say short-sighted."

Ivva didn't argue. Instead, she just sighed. "Anakin, with that in mind, I'd like to talk about some of the specific charges. I will ask you to talk about these events as you saw them at the time, as a man who believed he was living in a temporary chaos on the way to utopia."

Father looked like he was about to say something. Luke could almost hear it -- If you'd like, but it makes no difference. I did what I did, and fuzzy thinking does not excuse it -- but at the last minute, he looked at Mother, and closed his mouth on it. He nodded. "As you wish," he said.

"Very well," Ivva said. "Then I'd like to begin where this trial began. I'd like to go back to La'azum."

Han had gone with Leia back to their quarters earlier to give his moral support to her while she changed into her judge's robes. He'd kissed her, then broke the news he wanted to avoid the courtroom for a bit.

He hadn't told Leia his reasons, but somehow he knew she was aware he felt more than a little uncomfortable hearing his father-in-law go over some of the events he'd lived through (he'd had quite enough of that, thank you very much). Her eyes had followed him as he retreated to the garden and he knew she dearly wished she could do the same. Still, she hadn't begrudged him his quiet time and left him to his own devices. Han made his way toward the fountain and sat under one of the arbors surrounding it, unfocusing his eyes while contemplating just what to do once this thing had run its course.

Isabel had made herself scarce recently, playing with Pippa and the others Kit had brought with him. But now that Kit had taken Pippa back to Tatooine, Isabel felt strangely reluctant to break into Dritali's training or Tash and Kree's time together.

Nothing like a third wheel on a horsecart, she thought with some unchildlike amusement. And while she wanted to support her favorite couple in the courtroom, she had come to realize Han needed her even more than Ani and Amidala would this morning. She'd witnessed Han's departure to the garden and the stressed look on both his and Leia's face. Time to cheer him up a bit so he could do the same for his wife once today finished. Ani's testimony would make the courtroom a living hell for everybody that cared for him.

She found Han at the fountain, the look in his eyes rather dazed, as if he had no idea what to do or where he should be. This wasn't going to be easy. Quietly, she sank down on the bench beside him and placed her hand over his. He came to with one of his crooked smiles.

"Hey, munchkin. Haven't seen you much lately."

"You haven't really needed me around a whole lot. 'Sides, Kit's taken Pippa away, Dritali's busy with Luke and Tash and Kree aren't much fun right now with all their plans and stuff." She made a kissey face and Han burst out with a laugh before sobering.

"Well, they are getting older, though I'm pretty sure Kit warned them against doing anything they'd regret later." He squeezed her fingers for a moment. "How are you doing?"

Isabel knew what he meant was how well was she dealing with life since her Papa had died, but that he didn't want to come out and say it. She shrugged and gave him a measuring look.

"Guess I'm okay. What're you and Leia gonna do when the trial's over?"

Han looked away, his gaze reaching for the window where his family sat listening to Anakin Skywalker's testimony.

"Heck, I don't know. Go back to Coruscant, I guess. The way the New Republic runs today, they'll all be at each other's throats if they don't have somebody there to make 'em pull together."

"I could come with you, if you want," she offered, not certain if he'd want to take on such a burden.

His gaze flew back to her, one eyebrow cocked in question. "Hmmm... That's not such a bad idea, kiddo. Having you around might take Leia's mind off all this." He jerked his head in the general direction of the courtroom.

"Really? I'd be good. I promise." No displays as the Goddess, she vowed. Not unless absolutely necessary. More fun to just play with things without all that fuss.

Han gave another laugh, this time relaxing enough to pull her onto his lap. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Isabel. You might be more than just a kid under that skin, but even Ani got himself into mischief when he was your age. Kit told me about some of their escapades."

Isabel giggled, then snuggled against him. "Okay, but I'll try not to do anything too bad." She decided to make things a bit more interesting. "So, whatcha think about Ani and the queen getting back together?"

"Kinda took the wind outta everybody's sails this morning, but... Aw, what the heck? They should be together. After all, they really are still married," he mumbled at the end and Isabel caught an image of Ani and Amidala leaving the queen's quarters together earlier in the morning.

A broad grin grew on her face. So... Things were progressing as she had hoped.

"Gee, do you think Luke and Leia will mind if they have more brothers and sisters? Or if Luke'll mind being an uncle?" she asked, putting on a innocent face.

"What?" Han bolted straight upright, nearly unseating her.

"Oh, nothing really. Just wondering." She hopped off her now precarious perch. With a quick kiss on his cheek, she turned to go, throwing another whammy over her shoulder before she left. "I do so love babies and since we'll be having a couple around soon, I don't want to miss being in the family."

She trotted off deeper into the garden, leaving Han speechless for a moment before her meaning sunk in.

He jumped up, running after her, yelling. "Hey, just a minute! Whaddaya mean 'a couple around soon?'"

"It didn't really start with La'azum," Anakin said.

Ivva bit down hard on the temptation to slap him across the face. That wouldn't look good. "It's the earliest charge we're dealing with," she said.

"No, you don't understand," he said, and he was right--his face didn't have the obstinate, don't-you-dare-try-to-cover-for-me look that she associated with his self-destructive moods. He looked thoughtful. That was what she'd been after; she just hadn't expected to succeed. "Even La'azum didn't start with La'azum," he finished.

"Go on, then. Where did it start?"

"I could go back a thousand years and start with Darth Bane, if you'd like. But I don't think I need to."

"The court heartily agrees," Leia said dryly.

Anakin smiled at her briefly, then looked back out at the court. "La'azum was the first of the atrocities that could be laid squarely at my feet. I had done awful things before it, but... I was in command at La'azum. It's as good an incident to start with as any."

Ivva sighed. "Anakin?"

"Yes, of course. You want to know where it started. What happened there."

"That's the idea."

"The Empire was able to get a strong foothold early," he said, "but the resistance was stronger than I had anticipated. I had foolishly thought that the change would be welcomed."

"I see."

"I perceived what I was doing as offering help to the galaxy. I thought I knew best. But still, people rebelled."

"Imagine that." Ivva stopped pacing, startled to discover that she'd spoken aloud.

Anakin hadn't noticed. His face was still faraway. "There were many lawless places. I'd been told I could deal with them. But one after another, Palpatine made deals with the very scum I'd joined him to eliminate. I could do nothing. At least not until the uprising on La'azum. For reasons that have already been elaborated, resistance on La'azum was... intolerable. I was to put a stop to it."

Ivva turned to ask him something else, but something in his face stopped her. He had to find the way himself.

If you are his lawyer, you will stop him now.

(Maybe. But I am also his friend, and I cannot.)

Anakin heard himself speaking, and was vaguely surprised by the sound of it. It was the wrong voice. Not ostentatiously wrong--the simulation had been almost accurate--but wrong enough to make it seem unreal. And the respirator. He should be hearing that. He brought its sound to his mind. It was too easy to do that, but for twenty-five years, he had lived with that constant drone, and he couldn't remember that time without it.

hiss-shush, hiss-shush...

"I arrived at Valshir with a large enough contingent to assert control over the government as soon as the resistance was dealt with. A legion of stormtroopers, and a handful of bureaucrats. I'd chosen them, for the first time. They were decent men. I believe some of them still hold positions in Valshir, positions they have long-since earned."

Another voice came into his mind, a panicked voice that cried out for him to stop. Nothing you did should still stand. Nothing is excused. No words change the past.

A glimmer in front of him caught his vision, and he saw Obi-Wan standing before him, face grave and serious. "Ani, step carefully, but move forward."

He nodded, not forgetting that the others in the room hadn't seen Obi-Wan, but not really caring either. "I installed them in the government, and had the previous leaders removed from office."

"These were Rebels?" Ivva asked.

Anakin shook his head. He'd been surprised at her voice. It seemed loud. "No. No, they were merely... ineffectual. They had failed to stop the Rebellion."

"What happened to them?"

"I don't know. I don't think I knew then. I imagine they found other work, or went back to whatever they were doing before they entered politics."

"I see. And after you'd removed them from office?"

"My job was to end the insurrection. I... "

(You set out to murder the leaders, to demoralize the Resistance, to...)

"I had citizens brought before me, and I used the Force to determine which were the leaders."

"Was this painful to them?"

(Yes, you were forcing your mind into theirs, how could it not have hurt them?)

"I don't know. I think it may have been, but under oath... it has never been painful to me, but I have always been under the impression that it can be to others. I saw nothing to indicate pain, but there was a great deal of indignation at the intrusion. And had there been pain, I would not have stopped."

"Why not?"

He looked at Amidala, wishing that he didn't have to answer that question. "It was not in my nature. I considered it a temporary problem. People suffer pain. They recover." A hand traveled up to shade his eyes, and he forced it back down. No hiding behind any kind of mask.

"That's not exactly what I meant," Ivva said. "Anakin, why use the Force to determine the leaders at all?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why did you care who the leaders were? Weren't the Rebels fairly recognizable? Didn't they wear some sort of uniform?"

"Well, yes, but... "

"So why not just round all of them up? Did you fear that the leaders were in hiding?"

"Possibly. But I don't understand... "

"Anakin, why did it matter who the leaders were? Why not just do what Nizy Lummuo would do two months later anyway? Why not just kill them all?"

Anakin blinked stupidly at her, then moved his eyes to Obi-Wan's image. Obi-Wan was nodding. "Yes, Ani. That's the question you need to answer."

"I can't answer that."

Leia leaned forward. "The witness will answer the question."

"No, you don't understand. I can't answer that because I don't know. It never occurred to me."

Leia knew what Ivva was doing, and she was actually doing it rather well. She was doing it in such a way that Father didn't even notice that he'd said the operative words -- "It never occurred to me."

In Father's mind (Leia could see this in his face), the sentence was followed with, And it's a good thing, too, since I would have done it much more efficiently and brutally than Nizy Lummuo.

Leia didn't doubt that it would have been more efficient, and she didn't doubt that it would have been as brutal (though she failed in trying to conjure up a way in which it could be moreso; Father would assume that he could have outdone Nizy simply because, well, he was Vader and she wasn't, but Leia wasn't so sure). It wasn't the point, though. Leia had taken the point: Vader had not committed the massacre because it wasn't Vader's style. It hadn't occurred to him. It wasn't what he was about.

Father was going on now, moving into the story of the rebuilding of La'azum in that same halting voice, as if shamed by admitting that anything might have worked out well. Leia only listened in a cursory way. She thought back on her long relationship with him, and even to the time before it. The only places she'd heard of civilian massacres were at La'azum and Motibi, and in both cases, she believed there were extenuating circumstances. She didn't think this was wishful thinking.

Of course, that didn't quite excuse the murder of the original leaders without any sort of trial, did it?

Father had reached the point of the factory on La'azum, and Rejuo. He refused to dwell on her. Leia agreed--Rejuo had been something of an aberration in Vader's life, as she herself had been. Then the factory burned. To hear him tell it, one would think that a grassfire had gotten out of control.

She cleared her throat. "The witness will please avoid... " Avoid what? "... avoid softening of Rebel involvement," she finished weakly.

Father gave her an irritated glance which she could easily imagine had been behind the mask many times in past conversations, and said, "It was a Rebel attack. The factory was destroyed. The facts are not in dispute, nor is the Rebellion on trial."

"No, but the defendant is," Leia answered, "and the nature of the event is pertinent."

He started to argue, and she raised an eyebrow at him, and projected the thought: And it is my prerogative to decide that.

He nodded. "Very well. Yes, it was a battle. The Rebels struck us hard. The factory was destroyed and Rejuo was killed. I became enraged at... at the Rebellion."

"How long after that did you discover your son?" Ivva asked.

"A couple of years. That happened after the Rebel victory at Yavin, though I had suspected his existence for some time."

In the court, only members of the family took any notice of that odd statement. Mother responded to it by hanging her head.

"We have heard something of your actions after the discovery of your son. Your prosecution of the war seemed to escalate at that time."

"At first, it was coincidental. Luke appeared at the destruction of the Death Star, which was the Rebellion's first major victory. The military response was to be expected... we redoubled our surveillance, streamlined and increased the Fleet, and intensified our war readiness."

"And you were given command of the flagship of the Fleet?"

"Not precisely command. The Executor was mine--a reward of sorts--but she was under Ozzel's command, and later Piett's. They were under mine, of course, but they managed the day-to-day affairs of commanding the destroyer, and held the title. I was, in some sense, commander of the Fleet."

"Which you dedicated to seeking out Luke Skywalker."

"And the rest of the Rebellion in the process. But yes, my personal target was my son. I became... focused on him."

Ivva continued to pace, obviously searching for some way to put Anakin Skywalker... Vader in a more sympathetic light. Before Leia could speak, the defense turned to her. Luke could almost see Ivva's palms sweating and she exhuded an odd combination of deadly determination and cold terror.

"Your Honor, I'd like to ask that rather than go over each individual incident the defense would explore motivations and the defendant's perceptions of certain key points."

Leia gave a cautious nod. "The court has no problem with that. Prosecution?"

"No objections, Your Honor. The prosecution would also care to hear what the defendant has to say."

Ivva dipped her head, then turned to Father, picking up where he had left off.

"So, you focused on your son during this period of time. Can you explain how this impacted your relationship with both the Emperor and those subordinate to you?"

Father sighed, but continued without much hesitation.

"I've already said I didn't particularly like Palpatine. Unfortunately, the reverse also held true. Perhaps that was the reason he held my wife secretly despite telling me she'd died. Perhaps it was why he continued to plot and plan and rub my face in the fact I was but the apprentice and he, the master. I don't know. All I do know... He used a combination of fear and hatred and I believe he never trusted me."

"And this became more marked when he discovered your son's existence?"

"Indeed. After the first Death Star's destruction, he almost seemed to blame me for surviving his pet project's end. Then, when Luke became a prominent figure in the Rebellion... Well, let us just say I sensed he went from outrage to his usual devious planning."

"Then the question perhaps becomes why you continued to serve him? Can you answer that?"

Luke watched a muscle twitch in Father's jaw and knew how difficult this was for him. Still, he managed to pull himself together and try to explain the horridly complicated ties that bound him to the Sith master.

"Counselor, Your Honor, explaining exactly why I remained with him, even after beginning to understand just how despicable the entire Sith lifestyle was... I don't know that anyone could do justice to it. That would be equivalent to explaining in exact terms why I turned to the Dark Side to begin with."

His gaze sought out Amidala, who sat with her spine rigid and gripped Dritali's hand tightly. Luke wasn't certain who suffered more. His padawan looked almost as tortured as he felt.

Ivva must have realized the bag of worms she had opened. "Never mind the details. Just give the court a general idea of your motivation for remaining under the Emperor."

Father gave a snort, then seemed to understand just how disrespectful that sound seemed. "I beg the court's and your pardon, Counselor. I wish it were that simple, but I will attempt to do as you ask." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Being a Sith, as I have told others before, was more than a philosophy. It was a way of life, and not one easily discarded. It tainted everything I touched. By the time I found Luke, I believed that nothing could redeem me. And even so, instead of pushing him away to save him, I tried to ensnare him in the same hideous web my Master had woven over the years. He had done his job well. I hated and feared him and he thrived on it. I had become his instrument of terror in his lust for power and I knew no way to escape him."

"And your men? How did they react to your 'obsession' with Luke Skywalker?"

"None knew he was my son. The name Anakin Skywalker had died over twenty years before. I managed to hide all references to it. I don't believe they had any inkling of my reason for pursuing him other than to take a Rebel leader into custody."

He gave her a significant look. "Besides, not one of them had the audacity to question what I did. Even when I did things... out of character... for even Vader, they kept quiet. My state of mind had become less than optimal and I suppose I shut out even the most obvious signs that I had stepped over the line."

Luke sneaked a look at the prosecution. Vali sat frowning, deep in thought and Luke's heart sank. He could only imagine what sort of cross examination she would pursue. By the Force, he wished Father hadn't gotten on the stand!

Ivva must have also realized this wasn't helping her case. She moved on to another subject, catching herself almost wringing her hands with a self-conscious glance at the judge. Leia looked more than vaguely ill and not well rested at all.

"Can you tell us about your involvement with the place called Sanctuary?"

A sense of relief at leaving the previous subject emanated from Father.

"Gladly, Counselor. Despite the fact I had left behind my past life, I still could not completely sever my ties to Tatooine. When I discovered my old best friend Kit had set up a place for orphans, regardless of their backgrounds, I felt it only right that I help. However, I also understood that should the Emperor ever discover this involvment I would pay dearly for it. And not necessarily directly. Over the years I had watched him destroy others through striking at those they loved."

Once again, his gaze sought Mother's and an understanding look passed between them. "I never intended that Kit or any of the children he took in suffer in such a manner for any support I might give a cause he considered pitiful and counterproductive to what he wanted."

"And therefore?"

"And therefore, the funds I provided for Sanctuary's use were deeply encrypted. I never intended for anyone, not even Kit, to discover what I had done. It wasn't until I began finding victims of the Empire's cruelty that I couldn't ignore and made certain they found their way to his place that he began to suspect." He gave Dritali a slight smile.

"So you didn't give this support in expectation of any sort of reward or recognition?"

"Good grief, Counselor! That was the last thing I wanted from it. I merely wished to help those who had been deprived of their parents. In my twisted way, I tried to make up for some of the things that made even my stomach wrench. I'd lost my own mother horribly and despite my emotional walls, I felt it the right thing to do to help a place such as Kit had made for the young ones caught in such a situation."

Ivva nodded and proceeded to move on as Leia began frowning. "If you felt so strongly about issues such as this, did you ever consider leaving the Emperor's employ?"

Anakin snorted and Luke sensed his wry amusement underlying the guilt and distaste for the subject. "Counselor, a Sith apprentice doesn't leave his master unless he dies or becomes strong enough to overpower him. It didn't matter that I had served him for over twenty years. Somehow he knew I chafed at times under his heavy hand and though I did his bidding... I found ways to... go around some of things he would have me do."

"Then why did you attempt to turn your son?" Ivva blurted out, her hand flying to her mouth as if she wished she could pull the words back.

Father's voice became very quiet, though most in the room had no trouble hearing him and Luke sensed the tightly leashed emotions roiling beneath the calm exterior. Force! Why had Father insisted on this? It could do him no good!

"Counselor, I believed I had no choice. I believed I had no chance at redemption and in this blackness of my soul, I had begun to feel I would sell anything to free myself of the Emperor. Indeed, I offered Luke the opportunity to rule at my side earlier. If he had accepted on Bespin, we would have faced Palpatine together."

A horrified hush hung over the courtroom and Ivva's face paled. Luke almost groaned aloud. He had hoped this would never have come to light. Father had just dug the pit a bit deeper.

"But... but..." Ivva tried to gather her thoughts and clenched her hands over her stomach. Luke could sympathize for his own turned and knotted. At last she gathered the shreds of her composure. "Nevertheless, he didn't and when he went with you to face the Emperor on the new Death Star, you saved your son's life at the cost of your own."

A grim smile thinned Father's lips. "Indeed, though the whole thing remains a painful memory for me for other reasons." He paused and stared at his hands for a long moment as if not truly seeing them.

"Go on. The court wishes to understand exactly what took place there, from the defendant's point of view," Leia broke in, her voice carefully emotionless.

"Perhaps I should speak of some of the events which occurred before that," he replied, meeting her gaze with an apology plain to see.

Leia nodded and Father continued. "My emotional state after confronting Luke on Bespin deteriorated. I began to question my path more and when I did, I acted in such a manner in order to reinforce my authority and my belief I had made the right choices. But the more I did those things, the more I doubted myself. In the end, I had picked up his strong emotional commitment to protect his sister and made threats to subvert her merely to divert his attention from the Emperor."

He swallowed and went on. "I had come to understand if he destroyed Palpatine and turned that I would lose something more precious than my own bedeviled existence. We fought, and as we did so, I knew he had grown beyond me... that he could defeat me. My hatred grew as the Emperor encouraged him to destroy me, but then... He refused. Somehow, he seemed to see that part of me that still remained, walled up and hidden from even myself."

Tears blurred Luke's vision and he blinked furiously. Father's voice managed to sound so calm, yet Luke could feel the pain leaking from his shields.

"I wanted to die, Counselor. But the thing I had become remained obstinately alive and when I heard Luke's cries for help... Force! I may have been a monster, but I could not ignore it. I keep praying Palpatine would stop, that he would let Luke go, that Luke would change his mind, anything to keep the torture from continuing. All I could think was 'What kind of choice do I have? Can I stand against this creature who reeks of the Dark Side power?' And I knew if I did, I would achieve what I desired... my death."

He stopped speaking and the room remained still, not even a cough or shuffle of feet to break the silence. Ivva nervously cleared her throat and Luke knew she felt anything she said would sound inane, yet she must move on to something else.

"Thank you for allowing us to understand how you saw the incident. And as important as that is, I would go on to find out other facets of your character as Vader."

She took up her pacing again, addressing him as she moved. "Prior to this incident, several things occurred as you mentioned. Actions you took that most would consider 'out of character' for even Vader. Can you expand and tell us how your men seemed to handle these incidents?"

"Certainly. I had worked hard for years to develop my reputation for terror, yet I had somehow also managed to maintain one also for reasonable fairness and my own certain code of honor. Perhaps a vestige of my time as a Jedi knight, though I would have probably strangled anyone who intimated such a thing at the time. Unfortunately, I had become so involved in catching my son I lost all sense of proportion. What I might have regarded with annoyance and a reprimand became a killing offense. Sadly enough, some of my best men suffered for it. Even when a certain sense of outrage at my own over-reaction filtered through I pushed it aside as I had so many times. It had become a habit to pretend I had no scruples."

He sighed and massaged his temples for a moment. "Indeed, my men had respected me with a touch of trepidation before all this began. Once I had started though, one could cut the fear with a lightsaber whenever I came to the bridge. I didn't enjoy it, but neither did I do anything to stop it."

"Yet you failed to punish Admiral Piett for the loss of the Millennium Falcon. Can you explain that?"

"Yes. Though I would not have accepted the explanation at the time, my first face-to-face meeting with my son had thrown me off balance. I hadn't planned on anything except capturing him. When I saw him..." His voice faltered, then steadied. "I knew he was my son. I hadn't been entirely certain before, despite his last name, but when I saw his face..."

He clutched the side of the witness stand, his knuckles standing out. "It was a heady mixture of joy and misery, Counselor. A rush of excitement that here stood the flesh of my flesh combined with anger and anguish that he would choose death over joining me. When I sensed him on the Falcon as they fled, I wanted desperately to follow... to try once again to bring him to me. But the implications of his presence, his actions... those stirred things within me that continued to make my mental state even more confused."

Would it have made any difference, Ani? Would it have, if you had known about Luke and Leia from the beginning? Would you have turned your back on Palpatine?

Mother's thoughts and worries, filtered through Father's mind whispered through Luke's conscious and echoed his own questions. He could only pray Vali wouldn't lacerate their souls any further. A futile hope he knew, but one he held on to with every ounce of his being.

Vali Umbuimi was almost as close to the end of her patience as Anakin Skywalker was, and she didn't need to be psychic to know that he was almost stretched to the point where his endurance would end.

Ivva's defense was clever, legally speaking. She'd all but coerced him into making a strong suggestion (if not a plea) of insanity. She'd made more headway than Vali had expected in getting him to admit that he hadn't always intended for things to get as bad as they had. But Vali knew well that Anakin Skywalker hadn't wanted to excuse himself, merely to explain (if not to actively denounce himself), and he was catching on to Ivva's tactics enough to be bothered by it.

Vali had been a prosecutor for her entire career. Her one defense job had been early on, and she'd botched it badly. She was not accustomed to being the one on the defendant's side. But she had a feeling that she would have to be here, because the people who thought they were on his side were eating him up, a piece at a time.

Ivva finished her questions, trying to exaggerate the issue of Vader's known reluctance to commit atrocities and downplay the fact that the reluctance rarely stopped him.

Vali stood, and Anakin looked at her with some sort of plea in his eyes.

"Anakin Skywalker," she said, "I would like to ask you some simple, yes or no questions. Will you answer them?"

"I will."

"You are not obliged to answer all of them."

"I will answer them."

Vali nodded. "Did you order the food supply to be burned during the siege of the Ka'alya Rebel fortress on La'azum?"

"Yes."

"Did you execute the leaders of that insurrection without trial?"

"Yes."

"Did you execute Lord Ynob Neral, without even a charge?"

"Yes."

"Did you allow the destruction of the world of Alderaan?"

"No."

Vali raised her eyebrows for effect, but the question was just for effect. His "yes" answers would mean nothing if he lied about a "no." "Explain."

"I argued with Tarkin and expressed extreme disapproval. Beyond that, I was not in a position to allow or disallow Tarkin's actions, short of murder, which I perhaps should have committed in this case, but did not."

The part of Vali that liked to take a prosecution and attack it like a Wookiee on his last meal was ready to jump at this -- he just admitted that he still thinks murder is all right under certain circumstances, Your Honor! -- but the woman she was outside the court was stronger, and right. Anakin was beating himself up, but he was done with pre-emptive executions, and she knew it even better than he did. "Very well. Back to yes or no."

"All right."

"Did you murder Admiral Ozzel?"

"Yes."

"Did your murder Captain Needa?"

"Yes."

"Did you order Captain Han Solo frozen in carbonite on the world of Bespin?"

"Yes."

"Did you engage in torture of prisoners?"

"Yes."

And on, and on. Yes, yes, yes, no, yes. His face grew calmer and his hands relaxed. Vali worked her way down the list.

"One final question," she said when she had finished. "Did you know that these actions were morally questionable when you chose to perform them?"

Anakin sighed and closed his eyes. "Yes."

Vali nodded. "No further questions, Your Honor."

Ivva seemed to have caught on to his mood change, and when she came forward, her face had lost some of its softness. "I have only two more questions, Your Honor," she said. "Anakin, if you had a chance to make all of those decisions again, how many of your answers would now be different?"

"Most of them."

"Only most?"

"I wouldn't change the 'no's."

"And the yeses? All of them?"

He thought about this, deeply and carefully. "Yes," he said at last. "Even Neral. If I have been graced with a second chance, then I cannot stay here and say that another man doesn't deserve one."

Ivva paused a moment, apparently unable to believe she had actually reached this point, then said, "And my last question, Anakin... why should this court allow you your second chance?"

Vali was surprised. It was almost certain to backfire, given Anakin's behavior thus far. But it was a good question, and a question that only Anakin could answer.

Anakin looked over at his wife and son, then looked to his daughter. "I've done despicable things," he said. "More than I have been charged with, more than I can even remember. Had I come before myself as Vader, I would have been summarily executed. Maybe it would be just, maybe it wouldn't. But it would be... I would be unable to repair any of the damage I've done. I died once, and was powerless to aid those who needed my help. I would like the chance to make amends, to the galaxy, to those I've harmed, and to my wife and family. It isn't an argument that would have worked were I facing myself, and it sounds weak to my ears even now. But it is true. I will spill my own blood, and the sweat of my brow, to try and atone for the monsters I have been."

He stopped talking, looking ashamed to have even asked clemency (Vali did not fail to notice that he didn't even bother trying to argue his innocence). It took the court a moment to realize that he had fallen silent, and Leia shifted in her seat. She looked at Ivva. "Counselor?"

Ivva only looked sadly at Anakin. "The defense rests, Your Honor," she said.

Anakin returned to his seat in the defendant's box, and out of the corner of her eye, Vali saw Amidala turn to cling to him.

Leia nodded. "I will hear closing statements now. The prosecution may come forward."

Vali rose. "The prosecution has never doubted and does not now doubt the sincerity of Anakin Skywalker's desire to atone for the crimes he committed as Darth Vader. It is an admirable thing, and I have a deep respect for the defendant. To be honest with the court, I always have.

"But those crimes are not minor inconveniences. They are not all contingencies of war. Anakin Skywalker committed brutal acts, in the name of the Empire and, by his own admission, in his own interests.

"Your Honor, the galaxy is still reeling from a war that tore it in two, that ripped brother from brother in a spray of blood. The actions of Darth Vader exacerbated that war, and are a point of anguish to the survivors and to the families of those who did not survive. What healing can he bring to Hillo Needa, or Elshava Ozzel? How can he make amends to the starved and mad children of Ihivizi? Can he give back six months of Captain Solo's life, lost to the carbonite? Or create a new hand for his son?

"It is time to restore justice to the galaxy, Your Honor, to restore trust that wrongs will be counted." Even against those with powerful connections, she refrained from saying, because Leia knew what she meant. "The galaxy cannot go on without knowing the guilty will pay for their crimes."

She returned to her seat.

Ivva stood forward. "As Counselor Umbuimi pointed out, we have just survived a horrific war, a war which tore apart families and minds. There is a great deal of fear and anger and hatred out there. Much of it was earned, on both sides."

She paused to let this sink in, then faced Leia directly. "But what we need, more than any sort of vengeance, is healing. We need to rebuild, and we need -- so desperately! -- to see that what was evil and corrupt can be returned to the good, and that good can spread to help clear away the shadows. Anakin Skywalker died once, and by something only a bit short of a miracle, he came back, and was given an opportunity to do some real good.

"How many deaths does it take to atone for the crimes of a single life? And what possible good can my client achieve from a prison world?

"Your Honor, let the galaxy heal. And let Anakin Skywalker's redemption show as the first step of that journey. Don't waste a miracle."

She stopped speaking, looked pointedly at Leia, then returned to her seat.

Leia rose, and the court rose with her. She picked up the scroll on which the charges had been written, and grasped it in both hands, in the ceremonial manner. "The court has heard the arguments of the prosecution and the defense. The hearing is adjourned, while I meditate on what I have learned, with the help of a counsel of advisors. We will reconvene in three days time, at which point the verdict will be announced."

Vali knew that Leia's hands must be shaking, but her step was slow and deliberate as she left the courtroom.

The entire palace had a subdued air about it that afternoon and evening. Kerea had dragged Tash off to the rapidly emptying marketplace, desperate to find suitable material to fashion a new wedding gown for Amidala. Luke, at his father's insistence, had taken Dritali down to the blasted plain just below Theed's waterfall to work on exercises that could prove... uncomfortable for bystanders. Anakin had suggested she work on her lightsaber skills, with live blades turned down to the point of giving a first degree burn. He'd shown Luke how to make the necessary adjustments in order to change the frequency of the lightsaber as well as it's length, something neither Ben nor Yoda had been given the time to do.

After finding ways to occupy the others and seeing them off, he'd turned to Amidala, kissing her fingers, then her lips and begged her for a bit of time alone. Reluctantly, she agreed and went back to her own quarters to pace and worry. He sensed her distress, but he felt his own would only make it worse until he could get it under control. He retreated to the handmaiden's quarters, ostensibly to give the carvings he'd done some finishing touches. Turning to his carvings, he mercilessly rubbed them with a special fragrant oil meant to preserve the wood until they gleamed in the fading sunlight.

Dinner came and went, the dining room nearly deserted as those involved in the trial sought what little they could eat in the privacy of their own chambers. Kerea had discovered an incredible fabric and eagerly drew up patterns she wanted to show the queen. The cloth shimmered blue and green as it moved. She'd also found a perfect sheer to complement it as the veil, a green-blue that picked up the mutable shades of the dress' material. When she finished her concept, she ran off to show Amidala, who burst into tears, then apologized.

"Forgive me, Kerea. It's beautiful. I just don't know if I'll ever get to use it," she managed once her tears stopped.

Kerea embraced her, feeling oddly like the parent. "That's not true, Your Majesty. We all heard Anakin say he'd marry you again, no matter what happens." She grinned up at the older woman. "You should know how he almost always gets what he wants."

Amidala gave a watery chuckle. "Yes, I suppose you're right." She turned to the material and pattern. "Now, lets see what we can do tonight. Then I'll just have to make certain he doesn't get himself too deep in one of his moods."

The sun set, painting the sky with pink and gold clouds on the horizon. Amidala watched from her window, wondering how much longer she should wait before she confronted Ani. Despite his vow in the hangar, she feared he might manage to find a way to weasle out of it. She rose and went to pick out a special dress, one that had memories for them both. Her hands fell on the flame colored handmaiden's dress and this time she donned the entire thing.

She slipped into it, turning to study her reflection in the mirror before she drew the hood up over her hair. In the soft light of the lamps she swore she had indeed grown younger. No fine lines marred her face, her hair... She'd given up trying to pretend it hadn't darked into the deep brown of her youth. Now she just had to await the right moment. She sat once again at the window, opening an old book and allowing the tale's magic to entrance her for a bit.

Leia had gone to the library, seeking out the ancient Naboo law book once more. She poured over it again and again, searching for answers. Somehow, she knew it lay there somewhere, if she just knew how to interpret it.

She didn't want to make this pronouncement, yet she knew no one, least of all her father, would allow her to renege on her appointed task. Outside, the sky darkened to a velvet black until the moon rose. Leia's eyes burned, her back and neck ached from bending over the written pages.

With a bone-cracking yawn and stretch, she rubbed her eyes and rose, surprised Han hadn't come to retrieve her. A glance at the chrono revealed the late hour. She sighed and padded toward her quarters.

Anakin had finished hours before, his hands aching from the repetitive motion of oiling the wood. He continued to stare out the window at the now silver washed landscape below him. His heart ached as well, for he knew the difficulty of his daughter's task. If it were up to him... Well, he'd already told the court what he would have done as Vader.

So many people had died because of him, directly and indirectly. Did he truly deserve a second chance? Or was he being selfish? To his surprise, hot tears spilled from his eyes as he looked out sightlessly at the serene scene. It blurred and he raised his face to the cold white orb hovering in the sky. In some ways he wished Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and the others would visit him. He wanted to know what he should do, how he should go about this atonement. How could he ever make up for his past? Could he ever trust himself to help Luke rebuild the Jedi Order?

He sensed a presence drawing near and as the door opened a crack, he smiled.

"Come in, Leia," he offered, realizing he had been hiding from her and everyone else who cared about him.

She walked to his side, then sat beside him. "I've been busy, Father, and decided I needed to get some rest. I... I sensed you in here."

He gave her a brief smile. "Indeed. I suppose I was rather 'loud' in my thinking."

Leia shook her head. "No, I think it was more I had been focusing on our problem and picked up your thoughts."

"Then, perhaps you shouldn't be here, daughter. Others might find it... compromising if the judge were found in the defendant's presence without others nearby."

He sensed her hurt as she rose, her eyes glittering with reflected moonlight. "If that's how you feel--"

"Leia, no. I enjoy your visits. Don't leave in anger. I just don't want anything to impair your job or make your task more difficult." He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to his side. "I love my daughter and am very proud of her. But until she makes her decision on how best to reach the verdict and sentence, perhaps it might be best to refrain from seeing each other alone."

Leia relaxed into his arms for a moment, pushing aside everything to savor the feeling of her father's embrace. "I love you too, Father. No matter what I have to do, I hope you remember that."

She gave him a squeeze, then pulled away. "I should go. Han'll be looking for me."

"As I would look for my wife should she be so late to my side," he replied, then shooed her out the door and sank back down on the window seat.

He kept in touch with Leia through the Force as she scurried back to her quarters. As her husband greeted her, Anakin retreated, not wishing to intrude on their private time. The closeness and intimacy of their reunion also prodded another sore wound. Amidala... He must remain apart from her until Leia had made her verdict, given her sentence.

As if his thoughts conjured her up, the door opened again to reveal her standing there. She wore the flame colored handmaiden's dress again, this time with the hood and she took his breath away. His heart pounded as she made her way toward him. He felt as he had that first time he had seen her again, after ten years apart.

"I've come to make certain you don't try to back out of your promise, Ani."

She stood between his knees and when he rose, he stood perhaps an inch from her. It never failed to amaze him how tiny she truly was beside him. He could feel her warmth radiating against his skin and his own raised in goosebumps. A shiver shook him.

"Are you ill?" She reached up, rising on her toes to feel his forehead.

He laughed. "No, unless you consider me lovesick."

"Don't joke, Ani. You know your health still isn't what it should be."

"And just what is it supposed to be? Force, Am! I'm in a clone's body. One that's grown far beyond normal in a short span of time. Of course it's been stressed."

"It? What about you? Not only dealing with being in a new body, but then this trial..." Her voice choked on a sob. "I don't want to lose you again, Ani. How many times do I have to say it?"

He took her face between his hands. "You won't lose me, Am. Never. No matter what happens, I'll always be a part of you."

"But I want more than just a part," she protested, wrapping her arms around him and pressing herself tightly against him. "I want all of you. Every single part of you, not just a faded ghost."

"I promised and I won't break this one, Am," he told her, kissing her closed eyes and cheeks.

She turned her face until her lips met his, then deepened the kiss. Anakin moaned, trembling at the strength of her response. He knew it wrong and he refused to let her do this.

"Don't, love. We must wait," he protested.

"For what, Ani? For our daughter to make the final decision on how you must be punished? Why must we wait? I've been married to you most of my adult life and apart over twenty years. You are mine and I want you," she told him fiercely.

"I know, Am. But I've made other promises as well, ones I must keep or count my honor less than its already stained past has made it."

Amidala's fist beat on his chest for a moment, frustration and anger vibrating through her. As swiftly as it came, her mood changed and she sagged against him, silent sobs shaking her.

"Force, Am. You know I can't stand to see you cry," he begged, holding her tightly and castigating his young body's needs.

For several moments he held her thus, pushing aside his misgivings on the wisdom of her proximity. She squirmed a bit in his arms and he loosened his hold. But it wasn't in protest of his grip that she moved, but to get even closer.

"Love me, Ani. You've been honorable for too long this time. I know it's wrong of me to ask, but I need you terribly."

He swallowed convulsively, his eyes closing against the sight of her beautiful face. "Please, Am. Don't ask that of me. I want it as much as you, but how can I face anyone knowing I've been unable to keep this vow."

Her shoulders slumped and she became very still. He feared he'd hurt her more deeply than he had his daughter. She pushed away and stood before the window, facing the same scene he'd contemplated.

"You're right, Ani. I'm being selfish. I'd come to comfort you and ended up demanding you ignore what you felt honorable." She turned back, a hauntingly familiar look on her face. He remembered it from the last time he'd seen her before her 'death.'

"This isn't like that time, Am. You must believe me. I... I truly want to do as you wish." More than you know, beloved. "But if I do as my heart and body urge me to we both will regret it."

His hands clenched at his sides as he resisted the need to pull her back into his arms and... No, he mustn't.

"Forgive me, love," he muttered, then fled the room, leaving an aggravated Amidala to curse and stomp her foot in frustration.

Men! Still, she couldn't truly blame him. She'd pushed and pushed and forced him into a corner. Blasted code of honor men had. Her footsteps dragging, she returned to her rooms to undress and climb into her cold, lonely bed.

Just before the sky began to lighten with dawn, Anakin made his way to her room to check on her. He stood at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep, seeing the twisted bedsheets and her restless movements. Fleeting images of her dreams nearly drove him to distraction. She relived their married life, then moved on to anticipation of being with him again.

He backed out of her room, sweating and aching, praying Leia would make her decisions soon. If not, he might go truly insane from his conflicting needs. The need to do right and the need to be with the one who meant more to him than almost anything else. Force, if Leia took too long he might say the devil with honor. And this time, he thought Obi-Wan just might understand.

Leia had only come back for a few hours, during which she slept soundly, and Han didn't begrudge it (much; he had hoped she'd be in earlier). He'd just drifted back off himself when she pulled herself out of bed and walked, zombie-like, out of their quarters. Han had followed her and managed to push some breakfast on her. He was rewarded for this with a smile and a kiss, which at least made it somewhat worthwhile, but he hoped he wasn't going to be playing nursemaid to his wife much longer. She needed to get this over with.

After she went off to the library (again) to get ready for deliberations, Han swung down to Isabel's room. No reason in particular, except that he'd gotten the idea in his head that she'd be living with them now, and he ought to keep an eye on her. She was waiting by her door, tying a ribbon into her hair. She smiled when she saw him, and ran down the hall to greet him.

"Han!"

He swept her up and carried her like a sack. "Now I knew there was something I forgot to pack down in the cargo holds... "

Isabel giggled. She seemed to be normal this morning, for which Han was profoundly grateful. "Put me down!"

Han ignored her, which delighted her. "Let's see, I know it was either this thing, or a sack of flour... which was it?"

"Han!"

He swung her around and sat her on his hip. "Morning, Isabel."

"Morning. What are you doing today?"

Han shrugged. "No idea."

"Could we check in on the Queen?"

"What for?"

"Just because."

Not having anything better to do, Han swerved ostentatiously (dipping Isabel halfway down to the floor and eliciting another giggle) and headed up toward Amidala's chambers. He knocked on the door when he got there. "Morning!" he called.

The door opened, and Amidala came out, pulling a sash on her robe. Her face was flushed in such a way that Han wondered if Ani was in the room, but her lack of nervousness killed that idea. She'd just been dreaming.

Join the club, he thought. Spouses of celibate Skywalkers, meetings once a week at daybreak.

"Hello," she said. "How are you this morning?"

Han smiled. "Sorry to disturb you, but Isabel just had to check in."

"Oh really?"

Isabel slithered down off Han's hip and raised her arms to Amidala, who picked her up easily and kissed the tip of her nose. Isabel responded in kind. "Just wanted to see how you're feeling."

"Why, I'm fine. I feel incredibly well as a matter of fact." She put Isabel down and bent to look her in the eye. "Funny things have been going on. Did you notice that my hair is changing colors?"

"Mmm... Maybe?"

"Mmmm... you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

"Maybe." Isabel grinned mischieviously. Amidala might be talking about something she suspected Isabel was doing as a goddess (or whatever it was Isabel was when she wasn't quite what she looked like) -- at least that was Han's guess, and he didn't think she was wrong -- but Isabel was answering as a bright four-year-old.

Amidala apparently realized that she was speaking to the wrong half of Isabel this morning, and just stood up and shook her head ruefully at Han. "It's been a strange life," she said. "And I think it's getting stranger."

"I got Leia some breakfast earlier, but I didn't eat. You want to join us?"

"I'd like to talk to Leia, I think. Queen to judge. Where is she?"

"The library. I'll walk you over."

"In need of company, General Solo?"

"You got no idea, Your Majesty."

She laughed. "Trust me, I do."

They walked to the library, Isabel holding their hands, and found that Leia had already left. Amidala sighed. "She can't possibly already be in the Council Chambers."

"She could be. She's in a rush to get this over with."

"Thank the Maker."

"You can say that again."

She wandered over to a table where several old books had been laid out in a loose semi-circle. An Alderaanian text of some kind, four Naboo tomes, a hard copy of the Code of Laws in the New Republic, and another of the Code of the Empire (Han just shook his head in disbelief at that; it was one thing to be thorough, it was another to be... well, there was no reason for her to be looking at Imperial laws).

"Interesting," Amidala murmured, flipping through it. "Maybe she's trying to judge the law at the time the... that Ani... " She didn't finish. Her hands floated over the other books. "Goodness, this is all very old. Still on the books, but... " She opened the largest book and it fell open to a wide page of dark lettering. "Codes of excommunication," she marvelled. "A little light reading?"

"Sure," Han said.

Isabel frowned suddenly, some of her childishness fading away. "I want to go back to my room," she said.

"I'll take you," Amidala told her. "If she's already in Council, I'm not going to be able to talk to her this morning anyway." She picked Isabel up and held her loosely. "Are you staying here, Han?"

"Sure. Don't tell anyone, but I got a thing for libraries."

"If you say so."

She wandered off down the hall, speaking softly to Isabel, who started laughing again somewhere beyond the first bend in the hall.

Han looked at the book. It wasn't a lie -- he did like libraries, and had hid in one or two over the years. He'd also smuggled some old books for a collector on Bespin once. He knew the way the spines tended to get used to opening at a certain place, and noted the way this one had fallen open to the page on excummunication. He scanned the words, which he couldn't read -- it was in old Naboo, and he guess Leia used some kind of transla-scan on it -- then flipped to the next page.

It was a woodcut, printed in primary colors, of a man who seemed to be crying red tears as he walked out across the plains, with the whole city of Theed seeming to watch from the Palace walls (which had not changed much in the millennia since the woodcut had been made, at least until the Desolation, and they were being restored to their old form). Han looked at that picture for a long time, and wondered what the hell was going through Leia's head when she read this book.

Leia tried to find the memory of her father's arms in the muscles of her back, but she couldn't quite retrieve it. They were firm, she remembered. Tender and gentle, but not at all tentative. Hard-muscled... she didn't know what he'd been up to with the cloned body, but he certainly had built it up. His arms had felt good and safe and warm, and he'd had a good smell, a clean but musky smell that wasn't at all sexual in its connotations for her -- he smelled in an obscure way like a hearth, with spicy dry wood stacked nearby. It brought to mind the image of being very small, on a trip to the mountains with her adoptive parents, being wrapped in a large, thick blanket that had been stored in an aromatic closet for Maker only knew how long before it had been brought out for her. She'd pulled one of her two long braids out to glimmer in the firelight, and had fallen asleep that night meditating on the reddish glow.

She latched onto that image, because she could actually hold it and remember that blanket in a way that she couldn't quite recapture Father's arms. In her mind, she wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. She needed that blanket.

Outwardly, she stood and looked at the thirteen other people in the room with her. Mother's Council -- four Gungans, four Naboo, and four Alderaanians -- and Vali Umbuimi, who had insisted on being present since Ivva Japui was part of the Alderaanian contingent, though both had agreed not to give arguments as lawyers. It was fair, and Leia had found no reason to deny it, though a few of the old Naboo were convinced that an extra advisor would invalidate the trial. Mother had assured them it would not, making one of her rare royal decrees on the subject, though she had not been much interested in it. Mother was not much interested in anything other than Father these days. They needed to get some... resolution... before the government of Naboo toppled from neglect.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, adopting Naboo formality, "we have all heard the evidence in the case against Anakin Skywalker. I would hear your advice before I pass judgment." Technically, she was supposed to use the majestic plural -- "We would hear" -- but she felt far too silly doing so to support the seriousness of the occasion.

No one wanted to be the first to speak, which she supposed she expected. There was a long, pregnant pause before a throat was cleared in the Gungan delegation. Carn Gari rose.

"Yousa Honor," he said, "I'm thinking that we all know da crimes weresa committed, and dat Skywalker committed them."

"Yes. But the question is, how many of them were crimes at the time?"

Carn Gari nodded and produced a copy of the Imperial code. "Some, we got as normal in da war. For this, theresa maybe something about Ozzel. Maybe that'sa justifiable under the Imperial law." He paused -- for effect; Leia was getting weary of lawyerly theatrics -- then shook his head. "But dissen not da kind of law we want to support. Dis law is illegal."

"Nevertheless," someone said from the Alderaanian contingent, "it was the law at the time."

Leia thought about enforcing strict protocol on speaking order, and discarded the notion. She might regret it later, but for now, open and unhindered discussion seemed most helpful to her. The man who had spoken -- she thought his name was Garlien, and he was Ivva's guardian -- nodded to her slightly.

"Please excuse my interruption," he said. "I should have waited."

"No, it's all right. Go on."

"I think there is no doubt that we are held to a moral law higher than the Empire was. But Lord Vader operated within the Empire, and I think the question is whether or not the law was so obviously morally wrong in a wartime context that any sentient creature would have realized it."

"Mesa no think so," Carn Gari said. "I'm thinking that it doesn't matter what 'any senti-ent creature' realized. It's mattering what Anakin Skywalker was realizing."

Another quiet pause. A timid hand went up from among the Naboo. It was the girl Tirzé, at whose wedding Mother had officiated not long before the Council had been formed. She rarely spoke, and Leia was surprised to see her offering to. Leia nodded, "Go on, Tirzé."

"As much as I would prefer to take Garlien's part here -- I'm sorry, Carn Gari, truly I am, but I hate this argument, I can't stand it, I don't want to -- "

"Tirzé."

"Yes, Your Honor. As much as I would like to side with Garlien, Boss Carn Gari is right. Perhaps it isn't what defines a crime -- laws both high and low do that -- but it's what defines the defendant's motives. Did your... Did Anakin Skywalker know what he was doing was wrong? Vali -- Counselor Umbuimi, I mean -- asked him, and he said he did."

"But is his word trustworthy in that matter?" Leia asked. It wasn't an idle question, nor was it a rhetorical one. It was a question she had turned over repeatedly during her early friendship with Vader, and had been stumbling across at odd times ever since: Does (or did) he even realize that he is (was)... well, evil?

The Council members looked cautiously at each other, each obviously hoping that someone else had an answer. Ivva Japui bit her lip sharply and looked away.

"Counselor Japui?" Leia said sharply. "You just made an observation. Please share it."

"It's not in my client's... "

Leia's heart sank. "Counselor, you are here as a member of the Naboo Royal Council, not as a defense attorney."

Ivva looked studiously at her hands, folded tightly on the table, as she answered. "When Commander Skywalker testified about going to him on Endor... He said that his father said, 'It is too late for me, son.'"

She stopped, and looked to Garlien, who nodded. "I think what Ivva is trying to point out is that a man who says such a thing, who speaks of his moral state as something inescapable and undesirable, knows the difference between right and wrong."

Ivva nodded, looking ashamed.

Vali Umbuimi stood, and gave a self-deprecating smile which was honest but clumsy from lack of practice. "If Counselor Japui will prosecute, perhaps I'll defend for a moment. We know that at the time of his meeting with Commander Skywalker, Lord Vader was clearly at a crossroads in whatever moral struggle he was waging. There are no charges dating from that time, and in fact there are no charges against Lord Vader after he left Bespin. It's obvious that something changed. Other than what the defendant claims -- though I will admit for the record that I believe him without proof -- we have no reliable information about his state of mind during the commission of the crimes."

"We have Kel Rejuo," Tirzé said. "He knew right, at least, and that should have the corollary of knowing wrong."

And choosing it anyway, Leia thought, and closed her eyes against it.

Anakin came across Dritali in the waste lands behind the Palace, where he'd expected her to be while Luke was meditating by the waterfall. It was a strange and new practice, this separate meditation. Anakin wondered if Yoda had announced his disapproval yet.

Oh, but that was ungenerous, not to mention mean-spirited.

And still true enough.

"Good morning, Ani," Dritali said, not turning to look at him. She was standing on an outcropping of rock, her arms raised and her hair waving slightly in the morning breeze. "Is there something you need?"

Anakin started to say something, the realized he had absolutely no good reason to be here talking to Dritali. He'd just been walking along and...

He rolled his eyes. "You called?"

She finally turned, and she was smiling mischievously. "Pretty good, huh?"

Anakin laughed, and sat down on a rock at the edge of the dried-up creekbed. "A Jedi must have the most serious mind," he intoned.

"You mean I'm never going to get my chance to 'lighten up'?" She plopped down beside him comfortably, on a rock a bit higher than his own.

He turned to look at her and found himself looking straight at her scar. His laughter dried up at the sight of it, as the night he'd found her came back to him, in all its bloody details. Her father had just cut her. He'd pushed the door in to the sound of breaking glass. It had bled brightly and profusely, and the red haze of it had burned through his mind, and he'd thought of his own face, and the fires that had burned it away from him, and he could not have stopped that lightsaber from coming down even if he'd wanted to.

The mark. The blood.

She was a pretty girl, with incredibly dark brown eyes and a swath of thick, course black hair that, in a properly functioning galaxy, would have been the first thing anyone noticed about her. But that scar... it drew eyes. No one would ever call Dritali "the dark-haired girl" or "the pretty one" or even "the padawan." They would call her "the one with the scar on her face."

She was looking at him quizzically when he came out of his depressing meditation, and he realized he was staring.

"I beg your pardon, Dritali. I was thinking of how awful it must be to have people stare at your scar, and I did it more single-mindedly than I've noticed anyone else doing it."

"It's all right. I'm used to it. I stare it sometimes, too. And it sure cuts down on the normal teenage distractions."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I doubt some handsome boy is going put all his efforts into wooing me away from my apprenticeship." She smiled again. "Which is okay. I only like guys who are completely out of reach anyway."

"Why did you call?"

"I was trying to remember how I did it before. You know, so that it goes out... "

"Subtly. An interesting trick. But why?"

"I don't know. Master Luke told me to try unusual things. Because they might come in handy. He said he beat a monster using a bone as saber once, and opened a cage with a skull."

Anakin tried to suppress a smile. "I'll have to ask him about that."

"You can go if you want to. I... well, that didn't sound right. Do you want to stay? Or we could go into town, as far as your limit goes. I think some of the booths are still up."

"Why?"

"What else are you going to do today? Go inside and pace up and down the halls?"

"I don't think so, Dritali. I have no desire to be... questioned."

She shrugged. "They won't notice you. You're not dressed like you were in court. Your face is pretty normal."

This thought was both comforting and troubling -- could it have been so easy, just slipping into the market? And what did that mean, pretty normal? He grinned. "Pretty normal, eh? I'll have you know, I used to be quite noticeable."

"Yes, I remember."

"That's not what I mean." Anakin could sense in the Force that Dritali was still kidding around, but the conversation was making him nervous on some low level that he didn't want to analyze. "You go back to your meditation. I'll go inside and pace."

She shrugged, and slipped back into her meditation. Anakin went back inside. Pacing didn't make the nervousness go away.

Vali decided to keep her mouth shut. She'd never been any good at defense strategies and she never would be. She'd come to make sure that the soft hearts of the Council didn't ignore the prosecutory arguments, but she didn't think she'd really need to do so.

Leia had dropped the absolute formality sometime after they'd had a lunch break, and was now pacing at the end of the table, her hands clasped lightly behind her back. She kept stopping to look out the window as the Councilmembers gave their opinions and advice.

The Gungans had been known for their strong punishments before the Penultimate Alliance with the Naboo -- Amidala had told her that a Gungan acquaintance of hers had been banished for an accident, and nearly sentenced to death for breaking the banishment -- so Vali was not surprised that they were taking a hard line, even though they were strongly supportive of Anakin personally. The Naboo were hesitant, but ultimately ready to come down on the side of conviction. Only the Alderaanians were holding it up -- the Alderaanians, who Vali had thought would be her natural allies.

And what in the galaxy would make you think that? Until Alderaan was destroyed, couldn't it pretty much be counted on to protest any sentence for the people you convicted under Imperial law, just on principle?

Well, yes. But she'd had the impression from the few Alderaanians she'd met between the Destruction and Naboo that they were now bitter and battle-hardened. Apparently, having a home again had...

Turned them back into Alderaanians.

Bless them, and more power to them. As long as they don't start to win.

Carn Gari had been speaking again, about old Gungan legal practices, and Leia turned around, shaking her head.

"Boss Carn Gari," she said, "I appreciate your expertise, and the explanation for some of the practices I've been reading about. And I have been reading. But we are limited by law to either Naboo or Republic guidelines. Some Alderaani and Gungan concepts have been adopted into the Naboo Code, but not those you have been expounding."

"Too old?"

"Simply not accepted. There are... on the books... old Naboo laws... " She shook her head. "I suppose we've stopped talking about the verdict, haven't we?"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Vali cleared her throat. "Then you have decided?"

"I have not. Not fully. But none of you has addressed the question of a not guilty verdict for some time. I think I've heard what I need to consider the question. Should I find him guilty... The question of sentencing may need more advice. I have been reading... " She shook her head. "If I find this defendant guilty," she said, "and I in no way concede such a thing, I ask your advice on appropriate... measures of atonement."

Vali sighed. For a politician, Leia was a lousy liar.

He gave up aimlessly wandering the hallways after a number of curious glances and quick avoidances made him realize how he looked. Ridiculous... Why should he care? Except somehow he did. That strange encounter with Dritali had brought into focus just how mixed and confused he was about his sentencing. No, he had no doubt he'd be found guilty. No testimony had been so strong as to find him innocent of wrongdoing. Despite Leia's shields, he felt her distress as she listened to her counsel regarding potential punishments.

Anakin pushed it away and returned once again to the handmaiden's quarters, praying Amidala would stay away. He couldn't stand much more of her proximity before the final decision or he might renege on his vow... again.

He paused at the door, taking in his handiwork. The room smelled of wood and fragrant oil and he knew he'd done all he could to finish it. Yet something drove him to pick up bottle and cloth and begin again to rub the intricate carvings.

There, Gungans gamboled in Naboo's waters with the natural fauna. Here in Naboo's jungles and swamps the flora and fauna abounded, untouched yet with the Empire's infamy. Theed's palace stood over here, between the two main windows, pristine and beautiful in its intact state, just as he remembered seeing it the first time. In fact, much of what he'd done, he dredged from his memory.

His hand paused as it came to his depiction of the palace garden and arbor that surrounded the fountain. Amidala and he sat on one of the benches, clasped in each others' arms. He hadn't intended to show the scene, but somehow the hammer and chisel had a life of their own as he worked. For a moment, his hand lingered on her, gently smoothing the planes of her face as he truly wished he could do with the living model.

Father, are you all right? Luke's inquiry surprised him.

Yes, son. Just reminiscing and wishful thinking.

Do you need me? Or Dritali? Do you want to join us?

Anakin chuckled for a moment, then shook his head, well aware Luke could see neither. I am not in such a mood that requires either of you to disrupt your meditations. If I truly require your presence I'll call.

All right, but if I sense--

Anakin sighed. Luke, I'm not about to do anything foolish. If you feel you need to be beside me, I'm in the handmaiden's quarters, keeping busy with unnecessary work.

Oh. Well, if you change your mind...

I'll call you. Don't worry, I am not that bad off, son. Now concentrate on your padawan and your own training. I'll be fine.

With that, Anakin terminated the connection in his mind as he strengthened his own shields. He'd been remiss in that, allowing his emotions to leak out. He wondered if Leia had picked up any of his ruminations. With a shrug, he turned back to his work, allowing the warm afternoon sun shining through the windows to heat him until sweat darkened the plain tan tunic he wore. He pulled it off and laid it on one of the chairs before picking up the cloth again. His entire world narrowed to the woodwork before him and under his hands, a welcome relief from contemplations of his past and future.

Amidala pushed the door open a tiny crack and peeked around it. She almost expected him to look up as he worked, but he seemed entirely engrossed in rubbing his carvings. The oil rendered the air redolent of whatever scented it and the room's decorations gleamed with his efforts.

She bit back a gasp at the expanse of back he revealed, her hands tightening on the door. The muscles bunched and relaxed as he worked, the skin glistening with perspiration in the room's warmth. She pulled on all her force of will not to go to him, put her hands on his bare skin and relearn the wonder of her husband's body.

As quietly as she could, she closed the door, then fled to the garden. Ignoring her dress, she knelt in one of the flower beds and began to weed. With a vengence, she yanked up the offending plants until her fingers ached and trembled. And still she shook with need for Ani.

By the Maker, she hoped Leia would reach her decision soon! In the last few days, she had come to accept the changes in her own body. She could only attribute it to the goddess within Isabel (who could choose to be a child in the most irritating way to avoid answering questions). And as Ani had his own demons to confront regarding his young body's needs, Amidala battled her own inner devils. No matter how bad it had been in her 'old' body, it had increased tenfold.

"Child, what have you done to me? It's not enough I have to endure my husband's trial and relive all his wrongs of the past, now I have to put up with these... urges," she muttered, wrenching a particularly obstinant weed from the soil.

A giggle sounded from behind her and she swiveled around to find Isabel standing a few feet away.

"Sorry, Your Majesty. I believed it in your best interests, both of yours, if you became... shall we say, rejuvenated." The child's eyes held that look again. The one Amidala associated the goddess.

"Indeed. And just why is that?"

Isabel approached her, offering her hand to help Amidala rise. She brushed the dirt and leaves from the queen's dress, then indicated they sit on the nearby bench.

"Because not only do you and Ani need each other, your being together will bring the family closer in the end."

Amidala closed her eyes in exasperation. "Don't you understand how hard this is, Isabel? Until the court makes it decision Ani feels honor bound to remain celibate."

"We'll see about that," Isabel replied smugly.

"Oh, Isabel. That isn't fair to either of us," Amidala protested.

The child/goddess gave her a knowing look. "Why not? You both want each other and you've been married for ages. There's nothing wrong with you being together. Just remember that. Even Ani knows it's true, he's just being... difficult." She rose. "I'm going now. Why don't you go see Kerea? She needs to fit that dress she's making for you and Ani to renew your vows."

Amidala sighed and watched Isabel skip off into the palace. She looked down at her hands, still bearing the signs of her weeding. How could she protest what she truly wanted? Determined not to let her physical desires best her, she pushed off from the bench and went in search of Kerea and something to take her mind off her other concerns.

The oil and the daylight slipped away together, and Anakin was left sitting in the early evening shadows, enjoying the slow ache of his muscles after hours of honest work. It was sharper in his fingers, and he didn't enjoy it quite as much, but it was still a good kind of pain.

The Council Chamber door was still closed, and dinner had been brought up to them. Anakin couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about, and contrasting it with his own memories of dubious justice. There had certainly been no Council of Advisors to deliberate on Ozzel's sentence.

Sometimes, he wondered which system was harder on the defendant, then chastised himself. Ozzel couldn't spend his... what, six seconds of warning? -- on household art projects, or worry about whether or not to... well, to see his wife.

"Ozzel wasn't married," Obi-Wan said, appearing in a dark corner, at some indeterminate age between Anakin's training and Luke's. "You seem not to have been listening in court. It was his sister who came to speak for him."

Anakin didn't answer; Obi-Wan was just being himself: a stickler for details, and particularly for details that didn't matter. That it was a tactic to distract Anakin from whatever single-minded obsession he'd been enslaved to was an idea that didn't occur to him until now.

Obi-Wan floated out of the corner, and made himself appear to look around the room. It was a good facsimile of life. Anakin hadn't had the skill to create such an illusion when he'd been on the other side. At last, Kenobi finished his circuit of the carvings -- which he could have perceived in their entirety in the time it took Anakin to inhale -- and turned with a smile. "It's lovely work, Anakin. I should not have stopped you from your carving as often as I did when you were a child. You have talent. I fear I may have stifled it somewhat."

"You were my Jedi Master, not my art teacher."

"I was your guardian. I was responsible for you."

"I didn't make it easy."

"No. You also didn't make it dull."

Anakin laughed. "Is there a point to your visit, old man, or have you decided to adopt Dritali's habit of practicing unusual skills on me?"

Obi-Wan sat on a small footstool -- again, Anakin marvelled at the skill level; he himself had only managed an upright, distinctly ghost-like float, and even that had been difficult to maintain -- and sighed. His piercing eyes fixed on Anakin's for a moment, then he spoke. "Why haven't you gone to Amidala yet, Anakin? You've been given permission."

"Quite honestly, Obi-Wan, it wasn't your permission I was waiting for."

"It never was. But I fail to understand the point of this. You know there is little reason for it, you know -- "

"I know that I have made a decision. I bent it once, then I bent it more. If I break it entirely... I can't afford to get into that habit, Obi-Wan. There's no one around to throw me into a handy lava pit if I go too far this time." He had meant it to sound light, but his voice, almost of its own accord, had lashed out like a whip in the slave quarters at Gardulla's -- meant to do harm, not particularly caring if it were achieved.

Obi-Wan continued smiling, but Anakin harbored no illusions that he'd missed it. "I wouldn't count young Dritali out," he said conversationally. "She has a good head on her shoulders and recognizes when an action is necessary. And she knows to guard her midsection against your penchant for cutting your enemies in half."

Anakin's mind rushed back to the Death Star, to Kenobi standing before him, battling him, raising his lightsaber then... "I'm glad to see you remember how to parry, Obi-Wan. I'd wondered."

The stinging silence hung between them, and they stared at each other across it. Anakin realized dimly that he still loved the man, but also that he still feared him, hated him, admired him, and -- in some corner of his mind -- wanted to be him, at least a little bit. Not as instinctively as he wanted to be Qui-Gon -- that had come to him whole and breathing the moment Qui-Gon had appeared in Watto's shop: That's the man I want to be, that's what being a man means, and it is who my mind's eye will always see when I think of the very word "man" -- but more powerfully in some ways, because Obi-Wan had been the one whose care and instruction had molded him, and because the man Obi-Wan was, was a man Anakin Skywalker could never become.

"We need to talk about it, don't we, padawan?" Obi-Wan asked, when the silence had spun out a few seconds longer than either of them could bear it. "About the fire, and about the Death Star. I am sorry. For both. In the latter case, I used you badly and turned you into a monster even you had not yet become."

"I was already a murderer a hundred times over. A thousand. Probably more."

"But you were not a patricide."

Anakin was not surprised by his characterization of the act, though it touched him (in a rather twisted way, he supposed) that Obi-Wan thought of it as such. "I suppose not," he said.

"And I tricked you into it. It was wrong of me."

Anakin didn't know what to say to that -- particularly because there was something under the surface of it, some basic thing that had gone unspoken and unforgiven -- so he just said, "Thank you. I'm sorry that I... killed you. That's a strange thing to be able to say, and it sounds weak. But I wish I could say it to the others, even if they spit and cursed me for it. I am sorry."

"I know that, Ani. I knew it at the time." Which was a far cry from Apology accepted, but Anakin didn't press. Obi-Wan was stroking his beard and looking at him strangely. "I don't know what to say about the fire. I am sorry for all the pain you went through. And I am sorry that I failed to save you."

"And I'm sorry you failed to kill me," Anakin said before realizing that he meant to say it. Obi-Wan didn't immediately jump on it and correct him, but Anakin remembered from his apprenticeship that this was not always a sign of agreement. "Are you?"

Obi-Wan continued staring at him, and finally said, "I'm not sure. It would have saved the galaxy from many of Vader's crimes, though I have no doubt Palpatine would have raised up another apprentice, possibly one with fewer, shall we say, ingrained habits than you. More importantly, it would have saved you from what was undoubtedly a great deal of pain. My own passage was quick, padawan. It was painful for a moment, then it was over. What happened to you was... grotesque. I did not wish for you to be injured in that way."

Ingrained habits, Anakin thought, not wanting to think any more closely about his injuries than he already had. Luke thought of it as some inherent good. Why do I suspect Obi-Wan might be closer to the truth?

"What do you think good is, padawan?" Obi-Wan asked, in a tone that brought Anakin's mind straight back to lessons in the Jedi Temple. "Good is a composite of those habits which are most deeply ingrained, those habits which no power Palpatine wielded could break you of -- rescuing those who needed your help, fighting honorably for the most part, loving and cherishing the memory of your family."

"They didn't stop me from doing the things I did, Obi-Wan."

"True. But they did stop you from doing the things you didn't do."

It was just a strange and gnomic thing to say, and he said it so prosaically that it struck Anakin as funny. He tried not to laugh. "Spending time with Yoda, you have been."

Obi-Wan was giving him the same irritated look he'd given back in the Temple when Anakin was not taking his lessons seriously enough, and that only made it seem funnier. Here we are, on the other side of death, talking about murder and grotesque injury, and he looks at me with the same scolding as he did when I started fiddling with droid parts when I was supposed to be meditating. "I love you, old man. You know that, don't you?"

"You've always had an odd way of showing it, padawan, but yes, I do."

In his entire life with Kenobi, the statement of sentiment had never been returned -- it was not Kenobi's ingrained habit, though Anakin did not recall feeling unloved after the first year or so of his apprenticeship -- so Anakin didn't bother waiting for it to be. He just sat down in the chair across from the footstool Kenobi was sitting on, and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Luke thought I blamed you for my fall. He tried to tell me not to hate you for it. But I didn't. I didn't blame you for either fall -- the fall to Dark Side or the fall into the fire."

"Perhaps I blamed me."

"For which?" No answer. Anakin shook his head. "Even as Vader, I couldn't find a way to blame you. I hated and feared you, but not because of that. I knew even as I fell that you didn't wish it. You wouldn't have wished such a death on anyone, let alone for survival of that death. I knew that. Call it an ingrained habit if you like. At the time, I preferred to think of it as knowing you were too soft to have done it deliberately."

"I note that lava drowning never became an Imperial procedure, either."

"No." Anakin didn't think he had to add that he'd fantasized -- frequently -- about tossing Palpatine into the lava pit, and keeping him alive while he burned. Kenobi probably intuited this.

"Where are we, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked, and his voice sounded almost... lost. "I thought perhaps you did blame me, though when you came into the Force I didn't sense it. I thought perhaps you resented me for stealing your childhood. You claim neither, yet always, you have an edge of anger when I come to you."

You stole my children! Anakin almost said, but stopped himself, because that wasn't entirely it. That hurt him, in a fundamental way, but he understood the whys and wherefores of it, and knew that Obi-Wan and Amidala had been right. It made him sad and ashamed, but not angry. It wasn't the fall. It certainly wasn't some imagined slight of his childhood, which he had, for the most part, spent in the manner he most wanted to. The image that kept coming to him was of the cargo bay in the Death Star, watching his saber go through those brown robes, and hearing Luke's cry come up from just out side the Falcon. It was the first time my son saw me, and you made sure it was a murder that met his eyes. A patricide. So he would become a patricide as well.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "I... "

"Why, after everything, did you try to turn my son into a monster, too?"

Obi-Wan looked away, appeared to look out the window, and changed forms twice (possibly by accident; his control appeared to slip when he was feeling anything strongly). At last, he said, "I was not the one who brought him before Palpatine."

"No, you weren't," Anakin said slowly. "It is well that he is a great deal stronger than either of us."

"Yes. It is."

There was no more to be said, but Obi-Wan remained in his shimmering form, and they sat together in silent meditation, calming if not healing as evening became night.

MORNING.

They looked up when he came into the Great Hall, and stopped talking, glancing briefly at each other before looking guiltily at him.

"Good morning, Luke," Father said carefully, with an edge to his voice that Luke took as a warning.

They're having an argument, he realized with dim disappointment. In fact, now that he was aware of it, it seemed to permeate the room. "I just wanted to grab something to eat. I... " He reached blindly for a piece of fruit. "I'll be gone. Just a... "

"It's all right, Luke," Mother said. "We shouldn't argue in public places anyway."

"This isn't an argument," Father said. "It was an ambush."

"I didn't mean it to be an ambush, Ani, I'm sorry." Mother sighed and took Father's hand. "I assumed you knew that I meant to address the Council. It's my right as your wife."

"I wasn't aware it was a regular procedure. And if I had been, I would assume you would know that I would not wish it."

Luke stood hovering between them, the fruit held forgotten in his hand. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked, deciding that it was better to ask straight out than to try and sort out the ambivalent feelings they were both exuding.

They looked at one another, seemed to come to some decision, then looked back at him. Father shook his head. "No, Luke. We don't wish you to leave."

"Then could you tell me what's going on?"

Another look at each other. Mother sat down. "I'm going before the Council today, to make my plea as your Father's wife. I assumed he knew, and I simply mentioned it without warning when he came down to breakfast. It was a mistake."

"I don't want you to go, Am. Leia has a difficult enough task without her mother pulling emotional strings."

"The strings are there either way, Father," Luke said. "Leia is aware of Mother's opinions on the subject." He raised an eyebrow at Mother. "Which begs the question of what you do plan to tell her that she doesn't already know."

Father laughed, and looked surprised at himself for doing it. "Luke, you have managed to state both of our positions without helping decide it at all."

"I'm not taking sides, Father. Don't ask me to."

"It's my right," Mother repeated. "I'll tell her... tell all of them... or rather, ask... " Mother crossed her arms over her chest and went to the window. "Blast it. I have a right to speak, and I'm going to. I haven't been allowed to so far in this business and it's my right."

Luke went to her and put an arm around her. She leaned into it gratefully, and he couldn't help feeling good about it. "Mother, what point is there to it? I'm not saying you shouldn't go..."

"I am," Father said. "Amidala, I know what you're feeling. I know all this must have been very frustrating. But it's only two more days."

"And after that, I'll never get a chance to speak for you."

"May I speak to Father alone?" Luke asked, kissing her cheek.

Mother gave him a leary look. "Why?"

"I'd just like to, Mother. Please?"

She thought about it for a long time, and Luke had become convinced she would refuse when she finally nodded. "All right. Could I have another kiss before I go?"

Luke smiled and pecked her cheek again. She returned it, then left the room.

"She's hovering beside the door," Father said in a low voice.

"It's all right. Father, don't try to stop her from speaking to the Council."

"I thought you weren't taking sides."

"I'm not. At least not in the sense of agreeing with her that there's a bit of good to be done from it. She's not doing it for any rational reason. It's the only chance she has to speak for you, and she means to do it, because she's your wife and she loves you."

"But Leia -- "

"Knows it as well as I do. I never heard about this law before, but apparently it's old enough that Mother took it for granted."

"Your mother is the queen of Naboo. She knows a lot of obscure laws."

"And I'd guess this one doesn't really exist for the defendant. This one's for her. She's on trial, too."

"For what? Amidala never did anything wrong."

Even when he's angry with her, Luke thought with some incredulity. Even then, she can do no wrong. He shook it off. "She needs to prove that she isn't wrong to love you. That's all there is to it. Or at least that she loves you more than other people hate you."

Father stared at him for awhile, and Luke tried -- with no success -- to figure out whether he was thinking about the issue or just trying to find a way to argue with it. At last, Father shook his head. "I wish she wouldn't," he said stubbornly.

"I know you do. She knows you do. I'd guess that's why it slipped her mind to tell you. But sometimes it's not about what you wish, Father."

This got through. Father sat down miserably. "Doing it again, am I?"

"Mm-hmmm."

He shook his head. "It's always been my problem. I think I know what's best for everyone." He looked up at the door. "Amidala?"

Mother came back in and looked at him narrowly. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry. You're right. It's your right. I don't like it, but if you feel that this is something you need to do... "

"I do."

"Then do it. I'll be in the garden when you finish. I think you missed a square centimeter or so when you were weeding last night." He grinned at her. There wasn't much humor in it, but he was making an attempt.

Mother accepted it. "All right. And I'm sorry I didn't warn you." She disappeared again, down toward the Council chambers, Luke guessed.

The grin disappeared, but it didn't leave his previous annoyance, only weariness. "Is this ever going to be over?"

"Your Honor?"

Leia raised her eyes. One of the young Naboo -- not Tirzé, a young man, she thought his name was Ruko -- was standing at the Chamber door, looking at her with concern. That's right. There had been a knock, and he'd gone to open it. "I'm all right, Ruko. What were you saying? I'm afraid I was thinking."

"That's a good thing, your Honor."

"Would you like some of my thoughts?"

He smiled, understanding what she meant, then straightened into a more formal pose. Yesterday, they had loosened up by the afternoon, but they were trying to get a modicum of formality this morning. "Your Honor, Her Majesty, the Queen of Naboo, wishes to address this council."

Leia sighed. "May I please ask a question for clarification?"

Ruko looked puzzled, but said, "Of course, your Honor."

"Has Amidala, Queen of Naboo, asked an audience, or has Padmé Naberrie Skywalker?"

Ruko opened the door and relayed the question, then came back in. "I beg forgiveness, and ask the opportunity to correct myself. I announced our visitor without asking for her proper identity. Padmé Naberrie Skywalker, wife of the defendant, seeks an audience with this body."

"It will be allowed. She has a legitimate interest in these proceedings." Leia did not add, which the Queen of Naboo does not, for fear of offending the Council.

The door opened, and Mother came in. The mistake had clearly been Ruko's honest one; Mother was in no way trying to enforce her station. She was wearing a simple dark blue gown with a wide light blue sash, and her hair was loose but for a pair of wooden combs holding it up over her ears. The only concession she gave to her station was in not bowing to Leia upon being announced, and that was quite proper to either of her stations. Under neither Naboo nor Alderaani law would a mother ever bow to her daughter, no matter what position the daughter held.

"Your Honor," she said, "I do not come to you at the behest of the defendant."

In other words, Ani doesn't want me to be here. Leia nodded. "Understood."

Mother gathered herself and looked up squarely. "There are matters that I wish to bring to the attention of this council. None, I am sure, have been completely overlooked, but as your decision draws closer, I want to make sure that certain things are... understood."

"Very well."

At that, Mother blinked at the gathered crowd, seeming to lose track of her thought, and Leia realized with a kind of pity that hit her like a laser blast that Mother didn't know what she meant to say. She didn't think the Council had gotten that far in their thinking, but if Mother didn't start talking soon, they would.

"Madam," Leia said, "you realize that the charges against your husband are serious, and that, should he be found guilty, the law demands severe punishment."

It worked. The lost look left Mother's eyes. "I recognize the gravity of these proceedings, Your Honor, and in no way do I wish to minimize the importance of these charges. But I do wish to address both extenuating circumstances at the time in question, and... and the question of what will happen after this ends."

"You may begin."

Mother pulled enough of the mask of the Queen over her face that Leia wasn't sure if she was still nervous or not. "We all heard testimony about the nature of the Sith... relationship. It was one that was able to capture my husband for many reasons, not the least of which was that he had never known life without a Master. He was born into slavery, and moved into an apprenticeship. He recognized authority structures as... somewhat immutable."

Carn Gari stood. "Then yousa saying, his'm got no free will dis?"

"No. No, that's not what I'm saying. There is always free will. But I am saying that free will is not always recognized in time."

Interesting, Leia thought. I'll grant that it's true, but not that it is particularly relevant. He recognized enough free will to do the right thing on some occasions.

Tirzé raised a hand to be heard, and Leia signalled her to rise.

She looked at Mother, then looked down, apparently unsure whether or not to question her Queen on such a fundamental matter.

"Go on, Tirzé," Mother said softly, then re-adopted her proud, regal stance.

"Your Maj... I mean, Madam, are you suggesting, then, that we return a verdict of 'not guilty'?"

Yes! Mother's face seemed to scream. Yes, not guilty, let my Ani go free from his past! Let it end! Let me have my life back! Leia wasn't sure if anyone else saw this, because it disappeared quickly, and she adopted the formal humility of a supplicant to the Council. "I would not presume to give advice to the Council on that matter. I beg only that you consider the circumstance of the crimes in question. My husband's enforced servitude to Palpatine is an inescapable circumstance, as are the contingencies of war. I ask you to think of the times he could have used his power and didn't. Please understand that Anakin... Anakin holds a vast power inside of him, greater than anything even the Jedi of the time had seen. Had he wanted to release it and run unchecked through the galaxy, he could have."

"I see," Leia said, more to keep Mother on track than because she had a question. It was an idea that had occurred to her more than once. "The arsonist who only sets one building on fire in less guilty than the one who sets it in a high wind and burns a block."

Mother didn't answer. The somewhat frantic look was coming back into her eyes, and Leia understood that it was the wrong thing to ask. Leia herself thought of that as a rather interesting legal question--at least when she wasn't supposed to be the one providing the answer--but Mother clearly thought that the one who set the flame was guilty whether it burned one building or a thousand.

At last, she said, "But who is the arsonist in this scenario?" She became stronger. Unlike Leia (and Father), she did not pace or fidget. Like Luke, she became still. "I ask you to remember that Anakin was not just Palpatine's henchman. He was also Palpatine's target, and one of his victims. Captured, enslaved to the Dark Side, and allowed to retain enough of himself to be tormented by his actions. He always will be."

"I would hope so," Vali Umbuimi said.

Mother's eyes blazed out at her. Leia would have to tell her later that Vali had spoken in Father's defense yesterday, but for now, her irritation at Vali was keeping her focused. "Your hope is answered, Counselor," she said. "There will never be a time when Anakin isn't stalked by his conscience. If you could remember him, if you could have known him before all this... " She stopped, apparently realizing that she was coming close to begging. "And that brings us to the question of what happens afterward. I know the mood of the Republic is to convict, and I know that... that perhaps their mood is... not altogether unjustified."

It was the closest she would come in public to saying, He's guilty, of course he's guilty, and if he were anyone but my Ani, I'd have convicted him already.

"But consider the ramifications of a guilty verdict. Of a sentence. To have him trapped somewhere, known as Vader. It would be a death sentence, Your Honor, whatever you decide. He would eventually have no choice but to either die or -- "

(kill)

" -- or, well, he would see it as having no choice. And what sort of good would it do the galaxy to kill him? Or imprison him? He has knowledge and power that are desperately needed, and he wants to use them to help repair the damage he's done. He can't do that from a forced labor camp, even if he managed to survive."

"So, yousa thinking that he can be a hero again?" Carn Gari asked, trying to put scorn in his voice.

"He has always been a hero," Mother said quietly. "Even when he failed to remember it."

"I don't believe that's what Boss Carn Gari meant," Leia prodded. "Are you, or are you not, asking us to give him an opportunity to restore his outer reputation?"

Mother thought about this. "No. Though I admit that would be a beneficial side effect. I care little about his outer reputation, and he cares less."

Leia wondered if that qualified as perjury, and decided not to pursue the question too closely. Mother might have convinced herself that it was true. Or she might mean it more simply -- Father really didn't care if people ever saw him as good again. But he was greatly concerned with making sure that the galaxy on the whole remembered his evil days... specifically because he feared that they might make him into a hero again.

"I won't have it," someone on the Council said, unexpectedly. It was one of the Alderaanians, a woman Leia did not know yet, who sat beside Ivva. She had sat quietly, saying nothing, but apparently she'd been holding back, because now she stood up, her eyes burning. "This man is responsible for some of the greatest crimes of the war. And you suggest that not only do we refrain from serious punishment, but we give him an opportunity to become beloved to the masses. And it will happen. Don't pretend you don't know it. The public has a short memory, and it is weary of hate and anger. They will forget the iron fist and remember only the hero who humbly walks among them and begs forgiveness."

"And why is that so awful?" Mother shot back. "Tell me that. Why is it so awful to allow a man to repent and become a valued member of society again? To earn his way back through good deeds? We aren't talking about a man who is not remorseful, or a man who doesn't recognize his actions as wrong. We aren't talking about someone who is a danger to society. We are talking about a man who wants desperately to atone for the evils of the past. What could be a better way to heal this galaxy after the war? By your reasoning, we should shut up all our festering wounds and ignore them until they become infected."

"And by yours, we should surround the scars with face paint and call them beauty marks!"

The dust flies over the plain, the face emerges behind the curtain of it, dark markings seeming to be the only thing visible.

(how can I forget what's written on my face?)

Leia squeezed her eyes shut (though it didn't help, since the images were in her mind), then opened them again. She shouldn't have been surprised by the vehemence of the argument. "This session will return to order," she said. She looked at Mother. "Madam, did you have any other issues to raise with this body?"

Mother was still staring at the Alderaanian Councilwoman, and Leia thought that the first few normal Naboo government meetings were likely to be somewhat strained. No, that was coy. Mother looked like she was ready to reach out and throttle the woman. Her hands were even twitching. Finally, she turned. Her face was desperately sad and Leia wanted to shut down the whole proceeding and just sit with her and let her say whatever she wanted to say, and agree with every word of it, just to take that expression away. But of course, she couldn't do that. Mother stood quietly in the bar of sunlight, then said, "No, I have no further issues. I simply... beg the mercy the court." Her voice caught, and the anger disappeared. "I beg you."

When she'd finished speaking, she looked at Leia for a long time, then left the Council chamber.

Leia watched her go, and thought, for no reason, beauty marks.

Somehow she managed to retain her composure as she swept from the council room. She kept it close, much in the way Ani had needed his armor in his Vader incarnation. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to in order to keep from crumbling completely. What had she thought she could accomplish with her poorly conceived plea for mercy? She had seen the pity in their eyes and she loathed it and herself for it. Yet she had felt the need to do something in Ani's behalf, despite his own request that she not do anything... rash.

Her legs began to tremble and she steeled herself against the impending weakness as she descended into the palace garden. Almost of their own volition, her feet took toward the flower bed she had almost destroyed with 'weeding' yesterday. As she rounded the corner, she spied Ani, seated on a bench, his head bent in concentration. A sharp, poignant grief flooded her as she realized how deeply she feared she might lose him again for all time. If she went to him now she would weep and that... well, that he didn't need right now.

With a low cry, she turned, praying he wouldn't seek her out. This time she would flee him instead of the opposite. In her misery she sought a far corner of the garden, one that had barely been touched in the reconstruction efforts. Here the earth still bore traces of the Empire's blight, though some ambitious person or persons had cleared away most of the dead and withered remanents of Naboo flora. Distracted, Amidala studied the soil, seeing the meticulous tilling and sewing of new Alderaanian transplants.

How fitting. They struggle to survive in a new place and time just as Ani and I do.

Pale green shoots poked their heads into the Naboo air, still tentative in their efforts to seek a home on their adopted world. Just waiting for an errant foot to trample them.

She shook her head, disgusted with her melancholy mood, but unable to rid herself of the deep throbbing pain around her heart. She had little doubt what the council would recommend to Leia for Ani's verdict and punishment. Given the texts her daughter had been pouring over, Amidala feared the worst. The best she could hope for would be some sort of social ostracism. The worst... well, she'd already addressed that. Ani would die, either in body or in soul or both. He wanted so badly to make things right and yet he might never truly have that chance. Or the chance to be with her for more than a moment in time. Selfish, yes. But she couldn't help it.

The ground before her blurred and she squeezed her eyes shut against the burning tears that gathered there. Her hands clenched so tightly the nails dug into her palms. She stumbled to the worn stone bench that sat to one side of this desolate spot, heartsore and despairing. Sinking onto the hard surface, she dropped her head into her hands, grateful for the absence of any witness to her sorrow.

So steeped her misery, she never heard the light footsteps approach. Not until a gentle little hand stroked her head did she realize her solitude had ended.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I wish I could help more." Isabel sat beside her, taking her hand and offering a handkerchief.

Ashamed at being caught thus, Amidala briskly wiped her eyes and face and tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to give the girl a smile.

"Thank you, Isabel, but I should be the one to say I'm sorry. I've been terribly selfish and even now I should be spending time with Ani instead of wallowing in my own misery."

Isabel frowned for a moment, the child flickering and replaced with that... other. She took both of Amidala's hands in her own and closed her eyes for a moment. When she looked up again, a mischevious grin lit her face.

"Aw, don't be so unhappy. Things will turn out better than you think. In more than one way." She gave Amidala's hand a squeeze. "I have plans for you two and Ani being imprisoned has no place in them. I'm certain Leia will make the appropriate decision. Ani won't get off lightly, but neither will he be tempted to end his life. He has too much to live for now." Her gaze flicked over Amidala's body, making the older woman a bit uncomfortable.

"Isabel, or whoever you are, I hope you're right. I... I'm afraid my actions today certainly didn't help his case any." She sighed deeply, looking once again at the scraggly seedlings before her.

"Ah... I see a more dramatic demonstration is necessary to comfort and reassure you of the potential in the future." With that, Isabel rose and approached the tiny plants. She held her hands out, closing her eyes.

Amidala watched silently, amazed to see the girl's form begin to glow, the light spreading out to the growing things before her. Within moments, the sprouts began to increase in size, raising their heads higher, putting out leaves and buds, then bursting into various fragrant blossoms. Her heart began to pound and she felt a stirring in her body.

"Isabel! What are you doing?" she demanded, torn between wonder and fear.

Eyes still radiant with the power, Isabel turned back to her. "No more destruction, Amidala, only rebirth. Cease your futile grieving and go to him. He needs you and you him. The time has come." Her voice echoed with the strength Amidala remembered from that other trial.

As if in a dream, Amidala rose and made her way back to where Ani still sat. He turned expectantly, as if he anticipated her arrival, then stood and went to her.

"I've been waiting for you," he began.

"I know. We... we must talk, Ani. Not here. Inside... In my quarters..." She stopped, her face heating.

Instead of protesting, he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her back inside without another word.

From the shadows of the arbor, Isabel gave a smug smile. Indeed, all proceeds as planned.

As Ani and Amidala entered the main hall, Kerea started toward them, her hands full with the mostly finished gown. She had opened her mouth and Amidala knew she planned to ask for a final fitting.

"I'm sorry, Kerea. My husband and I have unfinished business to attend to." She forestalled the request, wishing she could will her face not to heat.

The girl closed her mouth and grinned. "No problem. There's other stuff I can do on it before I really need you."

"Thank you. Perhaps later," Amidala murmured, slanting a look at Ani.

He returned her glance with a promising one and gave the hand she rested on his arm a gentle squeeze. Then, with a nod to Kerea, he drew Amidala down the hallway without another word. She trembled, suddenly as nervous as if this were her wedding night, all those years ago.

They reached her chamber's door and paused. Ani turned to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to do this, Am. My love for you is such that I must at least give you another opportunity to dissolve this... this bond, if you wish."

Her hands sought his chest, running her fingers over the fabric and wishing he would stop his attempts at martyrdom. "For heaven's sake, Ani! Do you think that's what I want? After all this time and everything we've been through, you think I'd abandon you now?"

"Never, Am. I... I suppose I just wanted to give you another chance to rid yourself of me." He gave her a rueful smile and bent to kiss her.

She managed to duck beneath his arm and escape into her room, turning back to him with a breathless laugh. "Now, sirrah, will you live up to all you've promised me?"

He stood outside, a confounded look on his face for a moment before he responded. "That could take two lifetimes, milady. But..." With a flamboyant bow, he agreed to play this game. "With your leave, I beg to woo you, fair one."

A strange sense of déja vu swept over Amidala. They'd played out a very similar scene when they'd found each other again ten years after Obi-Wan had taken Ani as his padawan. The outcome had been... satisfactory in many ways.

She held her arms out, inviting him to join her. "Come to me, Ani. Don't make me wait any longer. Once this 'business' is over, then you can pay your penance."

With a sigh, he entered the room and her embrace, holding her close as if she might vanish before his eyes. He made no reply to her remarks and she continued.

"I don't intend to wait until the verdict's in, beloved. I want you now, whole and uncommitted yet to whatever path you must take in the future. When Leia makes her decision, then you may sever our bonds if you must."

But I don't want to cut the bonds, dearest. I want to strengthen them. I want to be with you forever, no matter what the court and the spirits of the Jedi might think best. I want... you.

She leaned back against his shoulder, meeting his gaze. His words echoed in her mind, stronger with the close contact. The sensations she'd felt in the garden came back full force, joined with a surge of longing so strong her entire body tingled.

"Oh!" She couldn't help the involuntary sound and concern marked Ani's face at once. Embarrassed, she buried her own in his tunic, afraid he'd see the intensity of her need.

"Are you well?" He tipped her chin up until her gaze had to meet his own.

"Yes. It's just... Isabel's been up to some... tricks and... well... Haven't you noticed something odd about me lately?"

"Odd?" He laughed. "How so? Other than the fact you look as lovely as the day we married..."

Amidala almost laughed again at the comical expression that came over Ani's face as he made the connection.

"Yes, it's true. She's somehow managed to make me younger and, I suspect, she has been 'herding' us toward this for some time." A weak smile struggled to appear. "I suppose I should send you away instead of playing into her hands."

"Don't you dare, Padmé Naberrie Skywalker! Amidala of Naboo will not escape me this time," he declared in a very Vaderish voice.

"Ooooh, I'm terrified," she teased, then grew serious again. "Two can play the martyr game, Ani. Let's not. Let's just enjoy what time we have while we have it. No one, not even the spirits would begrudge us that."

"How true," he murmured just before his lips descended on hers.

She had no time to wonder at his agreement. He proceeded to lavish her with all the long suppressed love and desire he'd been saving in a special corner of his heart. It had been a place no one, not even Palpatine, had managed to destroy. The place that managed to keep the man Anakin Skywalker should have been still alive. The place that somehow their son had sensed in him.

But neither thought of that now. Only of the here and now and the fires of desire that burned so brightly in their renewed bodies. Fires that even Anakin did not fear as they consumed him and his beloved. Rather than scarring, they healed and willingly, he gave himself up to them.

Why aren't you married yet?

Luke stopped running. He was at the bottom of a dry creekbed on the still-wrecked side of the Palace, and he looked up suddenly. Something had shifted, some essential balance, some...

Why aren't you married yet?

It came to him in his father's impatient, clipped voice, but it was a memory, not a contact. He considered going to look for Father, but he was very glad he hadn't just done so automatically. Consideration had brought the obvious answer, and he knew that he didn't want to be anywhere near Father's mind right now.

He sat down on a rock and laughed, not certain why he was so relieved and happy himself, why he felt that all was right in his own world.

"They're your parents," Obi-Wan said beside him. "Of course you feel better when they're together."

Luke turned to find him. "You're sociable lately."

"I don't know how much longer this sort of thing is going to be permitted, Luke. Perhaps I'll be able to do this forever, perhaps it will disappear when my padawan finally gets his life together."

"Which padawan?"

"I was thinking of Anakin."

"Oh. What about me?"

"Your life is together, Luke. As much as it is going to be."

"That's not reassuring." He smiled. "Father asked me a few weeks ago why I wasn't married."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Yes. Anakin has some definite ideas on the subject, and they seem to serve him relatively well. You should perhaps know that the Jedi have not always approved of marriage. It will be your choice, but I thought you should be aware of that in the course of making it."

"What do you think I should do?"

"Do you want my advice, Luke? Or are you asking me to answer the question for you?"

Luke thought about the question. It was a fair one. "I want advice," he said after awhile. "I'll seek advice from Father, when he's not otherwise occupied as well."

"Otherwise occupied," Obi-Wan mused. "Yes, that's a good way to put it."

"I'm getting better at euphemism."

"I'm not entirely certain it's euphemism." The spirit appeared to sigh. "However wonderful marriage is, however powerful love, one thing cannot be argued with: it is also all-consuming. Could you give all that is necessary to a marriage and a family, while still being able to give all that is necessary to the Order?"

"Then you advise against it?"

"I want to be kind and give equivocal advice that you will find easier to bear, but I find I cannot. I do advise against it, Luke, not because I fail to understand love, but because I have seen it and understand it well. Had you been swept away by it, then all the advice in the world would matter little, and I would not try to dissuade you, because I have seen the damage that can do. But I advise against you seeking it out, however much Ani may encourage it. The work that lies before you is long and thankless, and you will have little time to devote to a family."

Luke looked away. He hadn't expected this advice at all. He'd thought he'd be told to marry and... well, produce more Jedi.

Obi-Wan grinned, catching the edge of the thought. "That is also a matter worth considering," he said. "But there is no guarantee that your children, should you have any, would choose to be Jedi, no matter how strong with the Force they are. Leia has certainly evinced very little interest in the subject."

"Well, I... "

"And, more seriously, Luke... your life will involve one padawan learner after another. Your own children would constantly be in competition with your students for your devotion and affection. You are beginning to know already what the Master-padawan bond is."

"Obi-Wan... "

"Imagine if you would... " He smiled. "I've become so accustomed to speaking on your plane, I've forgotten my own."

Abruptly, the dry creekbed disappeared, the sky became cloudy, and large trees flew into ghostly form around him. It could have been Dagobah; Luke wasn't sure. He saw himself, older, with a padawan who wasn't Dritali (it was a Mon Cal boy, in fact). He was guiding the boy through a practice duel. From the shadows, a girl looked on. She was fifteen, maybe sixteen, with slightly tilted blue eyes and long dark brown hair. The eyes were extraordinary, like swirling galaxies, clouds of faint blue swirling with worlds within worlds inside of them.

Luke's focus went to the girl immediately, ignoring himself and his future padawan entirely. She fascinated him. He recognized himself in her, and Mother, and Leia. And he recogized Father in her.

Maybe he recognized Father most of all.

Her narrow shoulders had a tight set to them, and her mouth was drawn into a small bow. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Each of those fantastic eyes seemed to contain a lightning-filled tempest. Luke wanted to look more closely at them.

She came into the clearing. "Daddy... "

His older self held up a hand absently; the padawan was having a bit of trouble.

"Daddy... "

"Just a minute."

The girl's eyes blazed, then suddenly the padawan's lightsaber flew through the air. She swung it at Luke's older self, and the blades locked. His older self looked surprised, but the girl just said, "Is this the only way for immediate family to get your attention?"

The vision disappeared, and Naboo came back. Luke looked at his feet. "That's not definite."

"No," Obi-Wan agreed. "When it comes to the future, nothing is ever definite. But it is a possibility. She is a possibility."

"I liked her."

A chuckle. "Yes, you do have an odd and pronounced fondness for people who wave lightsabers at you."

"I needed it there. I was -- "

"You were guiding a padawan through a very difficult part of his training. She wanted your permission to go on a trip with a friend. If you alter it so that you pay attention to the girl rather than the padawan -- to whom you also have a responsibility, I will remind you -- then the padawan will not learn. Do you understand the conflict that this would cause?"

"Maybe I can navigate it."

"Maybe you can. But it is something you need to take into consideration while you are making your choices. I showed you a very bad scenario only because I'm certain Anakin will show you an equally good one."

"Balance."

"Balance." Obi-Wan's gaze wandered up to the Palace, and he smiled. "But there is something to be said for happiness, Luke. Don't choose to be a martyr. I simply advise you to... to keep these things in mind."

Luke agreed wholeheartedly. He would keep all of it in mind. Especially those eyes.

Leia covered her mouth so that the Council wouldn't see her covering a giggle. It wasn't at what her parents were finally (and obviously) up to; that made her jealous and a bit angry that she was stuck in here making difficult decisions. She just had a fleeting image of Luke giving Father the embarrassing lecture he'd given her last week about keeping shields up, and in her imagination, Father was in his mask and cape, but shuffling his feet like a teenager caught in the back of his speeder. It was a nasty parody of him, but she had the odd feeling that he would also be amused by the image, so she didn't feel guilty about having it. She just had to struggle not to laugh. It would be somewhat inappropriate in context.

Ruko, the shy Naboo who had mis-introduced Mother earlier, was in the middle of a rather confused explanation of mitigating circumstances in the history of Naboo jurisprudence. He'd obviously done his homework, but he wasn't a compelling speaker. "...and so, I, um... " He blinked rapidly. "I think there may be some precedent for, um, maybe a finding of not guilty by reason of, um, litigation circ... I mean, mitigating circumstances. In this case. You know."

"Which mitigating circumstance do you have in mind?" Vali asked dryly. "His position as the Emperor's guard dog or his thin-skinned temper?"

Leia fought and successfully conquered her urge to laugh at the image in her head, and looked to Ruko. "Counselor Umbuimi asks a good question. You've given a good historical overview of the manner in which mitigating circumstances have been used, but you've failed to produce a mitigating circumstance that fits the criteria."

"I'm sorry. I forgot. Or, well, I thought it was obvious. He's dead. He died. I think that's a mitigating circumstance in anything that's leveled against him now."

Me, too, Leia thought. Let's call all of this off and go home. She said, "The circumstance was rendered null in the trial of Kyrys Tashin. His testimony was accepted on the basis of a continuous life."

Ruko flipped open a book. "But it can be argued that the philosophical grounding for his decision was faulty, and therefore -- "

"Therefore he's incompetent to judge whether or not he is himself?"

"I suppose. But he could be not guilty." Ruko looked at his feet. Leia wasn't sure he'd planned to actually go through with this until he'd seen his queen beg for her husband's life.

That dried up any laughter that was left. Ruko's queen, my mother. And I cannot even entertain her dearest wish.

"Ruko, as much as I would like to have all of this end and not hurt anyone involved, the decision was made long ago to accept Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader as the same man. The galaxy will not accept a verdict that doesn't recognize it, and neither will the defendant."

Ruko nodded. He'd expected as much.

Silence.

Then Vali again: "Your Honor, isn't it about time you told us what you have in mind?"

Leia shook her head. "It's an old law, I will say that. But I would like to hear other ideas."

"Well," Arphon said, "His'm got lotsa credits. Dey could go to da building of da places he broke."

"No!" To Leia's surprise, it was old Garlien. He stood up, leaning on his cane. "His credits would ease a great deal of pain, I do not dispute it. But they cannot come from him. He cannot simply spread his gains around the galaxy to recover his name."

"I doubt he would see it in such a way," Leia said.

"No. But the people who got the credits would. The point was raised earlier about his regaining his good reputation. My colleague thinks he should not be able to do so at all. I disagree with that. But I believe it should be hard work. No buying it, no hiding behind his beatific young face and noble titles."

"What noble titles?" Tirzé asked. "Lord of the Sith is hardly noble, and he never used a military rank."

"Actually, he was a colonel once," Leia said, "but I see your point. What titles?"

Garlien shook his head. "He is royal consort, his son insists on calling him a Jedi knight... Begging your Highness's pardon, of course."

"Honor," Leia corrected him gently.

"Your Honor. I'm sorry."

"My point is that I believe Anakin Skywalker should have the opportunity to truly atone. As it stands, he will walk into a town, and be surrounded by the aura of the Jedi name, and the power of his looks, not to mention his simple, raw power. And money. Money is wonderfully amnesiac. People will forget. And he will not be able to truly do penance."

"I had thought to make him recognizable," Leia said, not wanting to elaborate any further. "But I hadn't considered the other matters. His assets are frozen now, but they are sizable."

"The New Republic should take them over," the Alderaanian woman who had argued with Mother said. "And put them in a blind trust. He should never see them again."

Carn Gari shook his head. "No. Mesa liking Ani, but some of da things he's got... Mesa guessing that aren't all belonging to him just right. And if wesa take dem into da New Republic, then the New Republic turns into da thieves."

"And we can hardly do anything about his titles," Ivva said. "They are pre-existing conditions."

"So are his possessions. Pre-existing conditions can be changed."

Leia's heart sank. They were getting close. Too close. She had hoped for some different, good solution from them. But in the end, all of it came down to the same thing, the thing the galaxy wanted in the end, and the thing that it in some manner deserved -- they wanted a punishment they could see, a punishment that would hit Father in his most vulnerable spot.

They wanted him dispossessed and shamed.

The image on the woodcut came back into Leia's mind, this time in the same position she'd imagined Father in before, taking his lecture from Luke. There was no laugh to be supressed with it.

Night was beginning to fall.

Lando Calrissian stood in the tower of the guard, the loose formal robes of his office swaying slightly in the evening breeze. These were old robes that had belonged to another Naboo prince in some distant time -- the ones Kerea had designed for him wouldn't be ready for a few weeks -- but they had begun to feel natural to him, as though he had simply been biding his time while he waited to be elected prince to a ruined city on an uninhabited planet.

He was tired, but that was all right. It was also his own fault. Since the city of Theed and the planet of Naboo were indistinguishable in any practical way for the time being, he'd carefully plucked off major planetary issues and re-classified them as city business, so that Amidala would not have them to worry about. She hadn't asked him to do so, and as far as he knew, she still hadn't figured out that he had. That was going to change, though. There were trade agreements waiting, and no matter how he dressed them, they were still planetary matters that needed her attention and her jurisdiction. And as soon as she found out he'd intercepted them and made the attempt, she'd figure out the rest pretty easily, and she'd be embarrassed at what she would undoubtedly see as having "shirked her duty."

Lando sighed. There was no help for it. He knew that at a time like this, even the most devoted monarch needed to leave things with underlings. And this particular underling had absolutely no ties in the galaxy that would keep him from doing his work (there was a moment of sadness at this; Lando wanted to have some tie that maybe Amidala could return the favor someday to honor, but the cards just weren't coming up for it). But Amidala... she was old school, and she felt guilty delegating any task that could conceivably fall into her job description.

He'd told her at dinner. She'd been sitting with Anakin, practically on his lap, and the both of them had looked... contented. It was such an alien look on them that Lando hadn't been able to place it at first, and when he did, he didn't need anyone to tell him what it meant. He almost stopped telling her about the agreements, but she'd already ascertained that he'd brought business for her. She sighed, and promised to meet him later.

He wasn't sure whether to expect her or not -- after dinner, she and Anakin had disappeared again.

But the knock on the tower door came promptly at the hour she'd promised, and when she came in, Lando noted that not a hair was out of place, and she'd put on her headdress and her symbolic makeup (which was more than he usually did). He had a mercifully brief image of Anakin leaning over her and lovingly painting her face -- the galaxy's only Jedi makeup artist -- and set it aside. It might be true, for all he knew, but what went on between them was not his business, and if he thought about it too much, he thought he might just die of a jealous fit.

"Hello, Your Majesty," he said, kissing her hand theatrically. "You're looking lovely this evening."

"Thank you, Your Highness," she said. Her voice was a a bit thick, but controlled. "You mentioned some trade agreements?"

Lando handed her the chips and a scanner, and she put the first one in. After the first few sentences, she looked up. "What is this deal that the president of Rodia mentions? This 'standing agreement with the government of the city of Theed'?"

"I... I made a deal with them. They've been sending raw materials for the fountains in their government courtyard, and one of our sculptors' guilds is doing the work."

"I see."

Lando swallowed hard. "You'll find that there may be a few other deals like that. The city... "

"Needs an economy, I recognize that. But this should have been brought to my attention. An interplanetary treaty should be brought to the head of the planetary government."

"I... "

"I know why you did it this way, and I appreciate your motives, Prince Lando, but please at least keep me informed."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

She went back to the agreements, and read silently, making notes here and there, and Lando decided he'd gotten off pretty easy. He sat down beside her, and explained the deals he'd been making with each of the groups that needed her attention now. She only nodded, made more notes, and finally started drafting a boilerplate trade agreement.

"Do you think we should go about surveying the planet for any items of value that are left?"

"Maybe. But mostly I think we should get the artisans' guilds out into the rest of the world, to see what they've got to work with."

"I agree."

"I couldn't do that without the queen," he said.

She nodded, then smiled and patted his hand. "You're a good man, Lando," she said. "Don't ever let anyone tell you differently. I've been remiss, and I'm angry with myself... "

"You don't need to be, Amidala. You rebuilt the whole society. You deserve a few weeks off to be with your family now and then."

"I wonder if Leia will recognize that," she said softly, then shook her head. "I need to do this tonight," she said. "Though I would rather be elsewhere, and otherwise occupied."

"Wouldn't we all?"

"But I have a feeling that I may be... somewhat distraught soon. And I should deal with these matters while my mind is clear. Or so Ani says." She grinned fondly. "I wanted to enjoy my clear mind tonight and then lose myself in my work in a few days. But Ani's right. I know he's right."

With that, she bent back over her scanner, and started to examine the terms proposed by Correllia.

There was night, then day again.

Ivva couldn't keep time any more clearly than that. The only thing that kept going through her head was, I failed.

She supposed she'd known she would -- he was guilty, for one thing, and the prosecutor was a better lawyer than she was, for another. But she'd allowed herself a momentary hope, and it had hurt when she'd realized it was an illusion. Sentencing was already being discussed in Council. Leia could say all she wanted about nothing being decided, but it was decided, and everyone felt it.

I failed. I'm sorry.

"Are you all right, Ivva?"

She looked up. Princess Leia was coming toward her in the hall, wearing her judge's robes for almost the last day. (Who knew? Maybe it would be the last day and she'd reconvene...) Her voice was tired and the circles around her eyes were so dark that it looked like she'd gone a few rounds with Dritali's father. But she was asking after Ivva's health. Ivva marvelled at it. "I'm fine, Your Highness. Honor."

Leia laughed without much humor. "I'm not a judge until we're on the other side of the door."

"Okay."

"You did well, Ivva. Better than anyone could have been expected to do."

She went inside, leaving Ivva in perplexed silence for a moment. Then the rest of the Council began to arrive, and she took her seat among the Alderaanian contingent.

Anakin awoke in Amidala's bed, the smell of their bodies heavy around him. She was sleeping peacefully, and he did his best to rise without disturbing her. He almost made it. He'd gotten dressed and was on his way out the door, but he found he couldn't leave without a kiss to let her know he'd be back.

He bent over her, careful not to jounce the mattress, then slowly lowered his lips to hers. At first, she remained asleep, her mouth only moving in lazy reactions to his own. Then she raised a limp hand to his hair and rubbed his head in drowsy circles. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

She awoke swiftly, and her hands clasped behind his neck. Her kiss became more urgent, and he responded to it.

After quite awhile, they broke. She sat back against the headboard and straightened her hair. "Good morning," she said primly, through her best disinterested royal smile.

Anakin laughed and kissed her nose. Maybe meditation wasn't absolutely necessary this morning... No. He had to learn to actually leave this room again. Amidala had been able to get some of her work done last night, and he would have to get some of his own done today. "I need to meditate and work with Luke," he said. "I didn't want you to wake up alone."

"Good thinking. I want you to wake me up like that every day, for as long as we're allowed."

"Deal."

"Is there anything you'd like in return?" she asked with a sly grin.

Anakin considered making an off-color joke, but he'd never been as comfortable with it as she had. Instead, he just pushed her hair behind her ear and said, "I'd like to be allowed to wake you up like that every day."

She smiled and kissed his cupped palm. "Deal," she murmured. Her eyelids were drooping a bit.

Anakin pulled the covers up around her, and eased her down to the pillow. "Get some more sleep. Take a day off."

"I've taken... " Yawn. "A lot of days off."

"Take a day off from worrying about me, too, today. Just sleep and relax, and I'll come back later to bring you food."

She sank back into the pillow, but he could see the troubles slipping back into her eyes. It might be the last day they would have together. That was why he wanted her to remember it kindly, but his efforts had reminded her of it. Her eyes drooped shut, and he covered them lightly with his hand. "Relax," he whispered, sending a suggestion out through the Force. "Be at peace, my love."

When he was certain she was sleeping again, he left.

Han had woken up when Leia was leaving the room -- he had no idea whether or not she'd slept; she'd been awake when he'd dropped off -- and he couldn't think of what to do with himself for the day. He wanted to be in the Council Chamber with her, maybe holding her hand, mostly just looking out for things that were going to blindside her, but of course, that wasn't allowed. She was in deep, the crisis point was coming up, and she looked worse than she had when she'd been in a cell and watched her homeworld blown out of the sky.

Han wished he had something to shoot at. That was a whole lot easier than standing around doing nothing.

After awhile, he wandered outside, found Lando already occupied with the day's business

(am I the only one who doesn't have a job around here?)

and so moved on to the hangars. The Falcon was going to get fat and lazy if she hung around here much longer. Han shrugged, and went in to see how much damage he could do to the engines today. What the hell. Everyone needed a hobby.

After an hour or so, he found himself turning around to ask Chewie to hand him something, only to remember that the Wookiee was still on Kashyyk. Sure. I sent him. "Chewie, I have to be with my family right now and I'm not doing anything dangerous. Why don't you go be with yours?"

It had been the right thing to do, but Han would have liked to have Chewie to talk to just about now. Any topic would do.

"Hey."

Han jumped, lifting his head so suddenly that he smacked it on the bulkhead. Vertash G'lahter was standing at the top of the ladder above him, looking almost comically surprised. Han rubbed his head. "Hey, Vertash."

"Sorry, General. I saw the gangplank was down and I just... " He shrugged strangely. "I don't know, I guess I wanted to see it. Sorry I surprised you. And I guess I should've asked."

"Don't worry about it. You want to come down and work on her with me?"

He showed a second's pure delight, then some strange cloud fell over him, and he shook his head. "Guess not. She's real famous, though. Supposed to be the best around."

"She's the best I know," Han said, "and I've known a lot of ships in my time. Where's Kerea?"

"Sewing. I figured I better get out before I ended up stringing pearls or some damn thing."

Han grinned. "And I thought I had it bad. At least she doesn't make me organize her notes."

"Once Kerea gets started on something, anyone in the general vicinity turns into an extra pair of hands. She doesn't even think about it. It's usually okay. But I didn't feel like it this morning." His eyes traveled vaguely over the controls.

"Understandable."

"Could I just look around?" he asked. "I won't bother you or touch anything."

"Hell, kid, I'll give you the grand tour." Han swung himself up out of the engine pit, and clapped a hand on Vertash's shoulder. "Come on."

He showed the boy the comm room, and the chess table. The galley. The gun turrets (again, that strange and faraway look). Finally, they came to the cockpit. Han pointed out a few things, again to mild interest, then fell into the pilot's seat. Vertash sat in the co-pilot's seat, and seemed to look for something to fiddle with. "She's a great ship," he said after awhile. "Really, she is."

"You don't seem to like her much, though," Han said carefully. "She's gonna get offended if you hang back too much."

It earned a wan smile. Vertash patted the naviputer. "No offense meant," he said, then fell silent.

Han opened his mouth to make a brag -- just something light -- about the ship's performance in the war, maybe about dodging TIEs and Star Destroyers outside Hoth, and then he remembered. He remembered blowing a TIE out of the sky and

(You're all clear, kid. Let's blow this thing and go home.)

then fighting the shockwave as the Death Star blew itself outward into space. And Tash's parents...

"Oh, hell," he said. "I forgot. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You weren't supposed to know. Did Kerea say something? Because she's not supposed to... "

"No. Luke picked it up from Dritali, and told me."

"I didn't come to make you think about it. I swear I didn't. I only wanted to see and... "

"It's okay."

Vertash sighed. "We heard about the war at Sanctuary, you know? And it was always like this. Most of us -- you know, most of us from the Empire -- we just wanted to, you know, have the same heroes as everybody else." He smiled. "Except Dritali, of course. She had one hero all to herself, and she didn't mind that everyone else thought she was crazy." A troubled frown. "I'm going to wring her neck. She wasn't supposed to tell. You guys did what you had to do."

"Yeah, we did. I'm sorry as hell that a lot of good men were lost, though." In fact, Han hadn't given it much thought, because it was just too big to think about. "And don't be mad at Dritali. I'd guess she just kind of leaked it. You know the Jedi. He's better at it than she is."

"Yeah, I guess." Vertash's hand reached out tentively to touch the controls, then he drew it back. "Anyway, what I started to say... I really didn't come here to make you think about it, or because I hate the ship, or anything moronic like that. All of us... we wanted to like the same people everyone else liked. We knew you were the good guys. My Dad said as much sometimes, though I'd bet a whole lot of credits that he checked for surveillance first."

"So why'd he stay in the Navy?"

"I don't know, man. I was only eight when he died. I think he thought the Rebels were going to lose, and it would be a good idea to have, you know, normal people in the Empire instead of in jail when it was over."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah and... well I think... " He looked down. "I think he didn't really trust the Republic. I remember once he said to my mom, 'At least things are in order now. We can get the nonsense cleaned up once it sorts itself out.'"

"I see."

"So I guess he was really, you know, a good Imperial. Kerea thinks he wasn't, and I guess I don't tell her any different -- "

"There's no point to it."

" -- but he was. He didn't want the Empire to die. He just wanted it to be better."

"That's a valid point of view. I guess I never cared all that much about the politics of it. I just figured out that it wasn't going to get any better, so I dropped out."

"Maybe my father would have."

Han swung his chair around, grabbing the arms of Vertash's as he did, so that the two chairs would face each other. He leaned forward. "Look, kid, don't you start judging your old man by whether or not you think he would have left the Empire. Did you love the guy?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think he wanted to do what was right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Did he hurt you or your mom?"

"No."

"Do you figure he tried to help people when he could?"

"He did. I saw him. He helped the neighbors rebuild their house after it burned down. I helped him mix mortar for the bricks."

"Then it sounds like he was with the good guys already. Don't mess up your head by trying to figure out his politics."

"But Anakin rescued Dritali and freed slaves on Ampinua, but everyone knows he was one of the bad guys."

"Maybe everybody ought to know it ain't that simple," Han said.

Luke spent most of the morning with Father, testing himself against what he was absolutely certain was less than half of Father's skill with a lightsaber.

"You have no need to parry with anything more complex," Father said after lunch in the garden, not bothering to deny it. "With whom are you planning to duel? I have no intention of engaging you again, and none of your other enemies will use this weapon."

"It's come in handy against blasters. And speeder bikes."

Father made a dismissive gesture that was not entirely polite. "Crude weapons," he said. "You mastered what you needed to defeat them the first time you picked up a lightsaber."

"Okay... but what if you're wrong? What if there's someone else out there carrying a lightsaber? And what if that person is better than I am?" Or what if, Maker forbid it, a student of mine turns?

Father raised an eyebrow. "I didn't catch that entirely, Luke -- your shields are getting better -- but I understand the gist of it."

"I'm sorry, Father."

"What for?"

"For thinking of that."

"Given your experiences, I can't imagine you not thinking of it. And if there is any matter in which I can be of use to you, it is in the matter of turning. I know it well, and you should not hesitate to speak of it with me."

"The turning wasn't the point."

"What was?"

"Training, Father. If I train a student to use a lightsaber, and he practices until he gets better than me, then what do I do if he turns into an enemy?"

"I see your point."

"So no more holding back?"

Father shook his head. "I'm sorry, Luke. I have to speak as a Master for a moment, though I never attained the title. You're not prepared for me to not hold back at all yet. I'll let a little more out, but I'll decide what you're ready for."

"But Father -- "

"I have no wish to cut you again, Luke, or even to mock doing so on a lower setting. I will decide the pace. You will not have a student ready to turn and fight you to the death for some time, so there is no need for hurry."

Luke felt a complaint rising to his lips -- a petulant whine, to be more precise -- and smiled. He had learned to control the expression of his impatience, but he hadn't quite mastered the trick of not feeling it yet. "All right, Father," he said. "But I'll hold you to it."

"I suspect that I will be quite easy to find for the next several decades. Though I don't know how much room there will be for this sort of thing on Kessel." An idea seemed to dawn on him. "Or if I will be allowed to wield a lightsaber."

"Leia's not going to send you to the spice mines, Father."

"It's also a prison camp."

"And if she disarms you, I'll get permission to allow you a weapon for training sessions. She'll have to see the logic of it. Who else could train me?"

"Who, indeed?"

Luke decided it was time to end the conversation. Two days ago, Father would have already started brooding by this point, and even now, Luke thought he might be getting close. "You're not going to Kessel," he said, as definitely as he could. "Now, speaking of shields... "

Father looked up sharply, and his face turned crimson. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes." Luke tried not to laugh -- he imagined that it would be rather embarrassing to have every Force-sensitive in the city know that he'd had... a visit... with his wife.

"I'll be more careful."

"Thank you."

His face was still red, but he smiled, and sat back against a rock. "I am content. Even if it is only for the space of a day."

"I'm surprised you're out here with me."

"I was surprised I could leave her side this morning, but age changes things, Luke. Priorities. This morning, today... I only wish that Leia were here. I have had a mad urge since I got up to take the two of you out, perhaps to the pod races on Tatooine. At any rate, to simply spend time with you both and enjoy the sight of you smiling."

"Sounds nice."

"Unfortunately, your sister is presently burdened with deciding the course of my future, because I have rather thoroughly destroyed our chance at having a past."

Luke waited for the morose mood to fall, but it didn't. Instead, Father was feeling something simpler -- regret, sadness, love. It wasn't a pleasant mix by any means, but it was an even, normal range of emotions. It felt like Father's moods had wandered out of their hermit's mountains and into the rolling foothills where most people lived.

He stretched and stood up. "Come on. I don't know how much longer we'll have for this, but we at least have this afternoon."

If he actually held less back than he had before, Luke didn't notice it -- he was still fighting one handed, and had not yet broken a sweat -- but any practice was worthwhile, and any time spent with Father was, he thought, well spent.

The hours passed quickly, and Father stopped just before afternoon faded into early sunset, excusing himself to the hot springs to bathe. (He was still more obsessed with cleanliness than normal, but Luke was beginning to wonder if he was just fastidious by nature rather than actively compulsive.) Afterward, he said he would "spend time" with Mother. They might join the family for dinner. Luke didn't really expect either of them.

He was going through his cool-down exercises when he felt Leia watching him from the Palace door. She felt like she was drowning, and he went to her, moving smoothly out of his routine and into broad strides. In a moment, he was beside her on a bench. She took his hands, but didn't look him in the eye.

"Leia?"

"Deliberations are over," she whispered, then leaned against him to be held.

He held her.

Ani was standing by the window, looking out at the garden, the late sunset playing red and gold across his skin like a desert mirage. He could have been scultped by an ancient Naboo artist, dreaming of utopia.

Amidala bit her lip, annoyed at herself. She wanted him again, and couldn't see any end to the wanting in sight. It was unseemly. Once, she'd been able to control this, and she had to learn to do so again. But his skin smelled wonderful, and the play of the muscles on his back under her hands...

She realized that she'd gotten up and gone to him, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing the spot between his shoulder blades that had always made him shiver. He took her hands lightly, and pulled her around him, to stand by his side. One large, strong arm clasped around her shoulders and she looked out with him.

The twins were sitting on the bench by the fountain, unknowingly mirroring other times and other concerns. Leia's face was white and tired, and Luke looked like he was trying to comfort her, and suddenly Amidala understood. She closed her eyes. "She's decided."

"I think so."

"We should go down to them."

He turned, his arms sliding pleasantly around her. "Are you sure it's the proper thing to do?"

Amidala sighed. "No. I should go. You shouldn't. I should go as her mother. She knows you will accept her decision. I'm not certain that she knows I will." She buried her face against Ani's chest. "I'm not certain of it, either. Oh, Ani, what if I lose my temper at her. What if I -- ?"

"You won't." He kissed her nose, then her mouth, then held her. "My beautiful angel," he whispered. "You've already shown that when it comes to the line, you are their mother before you are my wife. You have always done what is right by them, and you will now."

"I left Leia to find you once."

"Only when the danger of staying with her was too great."

"Ani, stop it. I'm trying to convince myself that I owe her more than I owe you."

"That's simple. You owe me nothing. Everything you give me is a gift. Go out to Leia."

She nodded, and left the warm circle of his arms. "Ani, what I'm really afraid of is that I won't be able to forgive her, if she... "

"Does what she will undoubtedly do, and should do. And you will forgive her, because it would be unthinkable for you not to."

"Ani -- "

"She's been apart from us for the past few weeks, and you feel distant. Go to her. You'll find that she's not distant, and you will forgive her anything. Particularly things that are right and proper for her to do."

He turned his back on her -- it was deliberately calculated and she knew it, and she was grateful for it. She pulled on a simple white shift (it was really only an underthing, but it was decent enough), and went outside.

Luke looked up first, his face full of quiet concern. Then Leia's eyes rose to meet hers, and she knew that Ani was right, that no matter what she said tomorrow, Leia was her beloved daughter and would always have a home in her heart. She sat down on her other side and wrapped her arms around her. "Leia," she whispered.

"Mother."

Amidala heard herself cooing something. She wasn't sure what it was, but it seemed to be comforting. Leia curled up against her and allowed a closer embrace. Luke started to leave, but Amidala stayed him with a hand, moving over so he could sit on her other side. She wanted them both in the circle of her arms. It had been far too long. They grasped each other's hands, and the three of them sat in their small, tight circle together as the moon rose. Amidala glanced up and saw Ani at the window, a shadowy silhouette against the hazy light of her room. One hand rested against the glass, as though he were trying to reach down to them.

"Anakin Skywalker, stand forward and be judged."

The mood in the streets of Theed was quiet and somber. Even the press was subdued, though they had given so much energy to arriving at this point.

In New Otoh, eyes were turned away from the flowing of the river and the flashy displays of the schooling fish. Gungans watched in shared spaces, sitting together, not knowing what they hoped for.

The children of Theed understood that something was happening, and they left off their usual games of catch and chase before school. Some gathered around the droid Threepio, who had increasingly been spending time in their company. He explained the protocol, and if his chirpy vocoder seemed out of place, he was the only one who noticed.

In the Alderaanian quarter, eyes were on the judge, in her dark blue robes for the last time. They had watched her from her childhood on, and now she seemed to be in her old age. They hoped -- each silently, each knowing his or her neighbor was hoping the same -- that a return to Alderaanian white would bring the glow back into the face of the Princess. As to the trial, they cared little for what her verdict would be... they only wanted to see her stop suffering.

If there was an underworld in Theed -- and every city has one, no matter how benign -- it was made up of the Imperial officers who had been offered asylum. Many had been guards in the prison camp where Queen Amidala had lived for twenty five years. Others were Naboo citizens, like Kyrys Tashin (or, for that matter, Anakin Skywalker). Still others were simply tired. They watched in a resigned way, wondering which doors to which hells would be opened for them in the next few minutes.

"You have been charged with crimes against the galaxy. These crimes include crimes of commission and crimes of depraved indifference, committed against both the Rebellion you fought and the Empire you served."

In the barracks of the Republic's military, soldiers and pilots waited with quiet curiousity, not sure which outcome they wanted. Most had feared Vader, but also admired him, in some obscure way, as a man who could get things done. Most also wondered what would happen when the floodgates to accusations were opened.

In the halls of the Senate, politicians of all stripes weighed the technical issues of the trial, putting a veneer of reasonability on over a hard base of fear and ambition. Some of the Chancellor's adversaries shook their heads sadly, and commented on the folly of young Organa-Solo putting herself into a situation where she simply couldn't win.

"Your accusers have been heard, and your defenders have been heard. The court will now render its decision. Are you prepared to accept the decision of this court and the Republic?"

On Tatooine, in the city of Mos Espa, things were not quiet. There was some level of acceptance that Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, but he was still a hometown boy, a hero who had risen above the desert grit to achieve something. There were still those in the city who recalled a long ago race, and the dirty-faced boy who had won it and given hope to the crowded slave quarters. What business did the Republic have judging him? He was from Tatooine, and they hadn't even been asked to come as advisors on the culture he'd emerged from and its norms. And so on.

At Sanctuary, Kit Binai had barely gotten home when his mind was pulled back to Naboo. The children here idolized Ani as one of the founders of the place, but they didn't love him as he was now, and those who had lost family to the Empire were openly defiant to those who wanted him acquitted. It was one of the rare times that the war truly intervened. But so far today, they were just waking up, and Kit had to watch the holoproj from the corner of his eye to learn the fate of a friend while he cooked a morning meal for forty.

In Anchorhead, Camie closed up Toshi Station. The likelihood of an actual customer coming was small, but she had no intention of taking the chance. Fixer and Windy sat on the worktable, and Camie tuned to the news. Her son crawled into her lap, and she cuddled him absently. They could all see Luke there, beside his father, looking tired and serious. "You know what?" Windy said after awhile. "If that's what leaving does to a person, I'm staying."

"I will accept what the Court has, in its wisdom, decided, Your Honor."

On Coruscant, opposing groups were both prepared to riot. Cans of holo-paint for grafitti had been purchased a week ago, and vibro-axes were tucked into belt loops. A fashion craze had sprung up among the teenagers -- supporters of Anakin Skywalker (mostly children of the Empire) had taken to wearing blood red scarves around their heads, while those who opposed him (mostly non-humans, who assumed that he had bought into the Empire's xenophobia) wore black scarves. The trend had already spread to the non-political, and scarves of all sorts were seen everywhere, but the original groups were gathering today, recognizing one another and glaring at the public comm-stations, daring the Chancellor to say something they didn't want to hear.

On Endor, an Ewok named Wicket kept the only public holoproj, and most of the village was gathered in his hut. Their eyes were wide and solemn. They had heard this tale, and had been present at its triumpant end (or so they'd thought). One of the visionaries had even claimed to have seen the spirit of Anakin Skywalker rise up among the trees to hover as a protector. That he was now visible on another world hadn't quite shaken that belief.

On Ampinua, a silent vigil was held in the building that had once been the stronghold of a man named Mol Zokusa, a man Vader had killed, freeing the Ampinuans who had been held there against their will. The building was a shrine now. And in it, they waited.

On La'azum, the riots had begun three days ago, and weren't getting anywhere fast. The Tr'astari'shal was a refuge for the old and weak, and for those not interested in this fight. Other than that, it had been walled off, and was guarded assiduously. The basement room had been sealed up.

"The Republic finds you... "

Amidala tried not to look at Leia, because she didn't want her eyes to influence her daughter's words, or to tear at her daughter's soul. And she knew what her eyes held. Terror. Unadulterated, pure terror. She was going to lose him again.

Luke knew what was coming, and supposed he had known it from the start. He stood beside Father, but he thought it was really Mother who needed him.

Han came to court in military dress, and stood behind Leia as her guard. It was the only time he had done such a thing, but he wanted to be with her today, and he wanted people to see him with her today.

Anakin knelt in front of the defendant's box, his eyes lowered to the patterns in the marble of the floor, waiting for a single word.

"...guilty."

The word hung in the air, like the smoke over a Hutt's sabacc table.

There was absolute silence in the throne room, and Han could almost see it going out in ripples all the way to Coruscant. But no matter how big anything is, sooner or later, people realized that planets were still moving along around their stars at the same speed they always had. It usually took about ten seconds, in Han's experience. This time, it took almost fifteen.

Someone shifted in his seat, and someone else cleared her throat. There was a whisper and a cough.

The decision hadn't come from some ancient god who was going to send fire down on Anakin right in front of them. It had come from a small woman in a velvet robe, and she hadn't even mentioned what would happen next yet. The soft, whispery sound went around the room (and, Han guessed, the galaxy).

Come on, Sweetheart, he thought, trying not to break his position as a formal guard to look at Leia. Come on, finish it and get it over with.

There wasn't a chance that Leia heard him -- she might be able to use the Force, but he sure as hell couldn't -- but she sighed and...

Well, Han wasn't exactly sure what she did, exactly, except that she'd done the same thing the day the trial opened. She straightened her back and, well, looked at someone. Could have been anyone. Maybe everyone in the general direction thought she was looking right at him -- Han had been on the receiving end of that personal/impersonal glare during his time in the military. But he didn't think it was the same. She seemed to be pushing something at them.

They quieted, and her head turned. It was only a fraction of a turn, but it became obvious that she was looking directly at Anakin now, and only at Anakin.

Even Anakin squirmed a little under that gaze, but he controlled it, and looked up to meet her eyes.

"The Court," Leia said, "has determined your sentence using the laws of both the Republic and the sovereign world of Naboo."

Han could almost see the people leaning forward.

"Yes, Your Honor," Anakin said.

"By the order of the New Republic, you are hereby stripped of all rank and title, and prohibited from holding either for the remainder of your physical life."

Anakin nodded stoically, but behind him, Luke's head snapped up.

Sure. She just invaded Luke's turf. She's personally -- well, impersonally -- declared that Anakin's not a Jedi.

She wasn't through, not by a long shot. She looked down at the scroll in front of her. "Your personal property is hereby forfeit. Those items which belong legitimately to other parties will be returned to them. The remainder of your assets will be liquidated, placed in a blind trust, and used for reparations of war damages."

So far, so good. But the people were obviously looking for something more.

"You will not be allowed to own property in the future, nor have control of any assets, save two: the court hereby grants you the lightsaber given you by Luke Skywalker, and one X-wing fighter from the Republic Fleet, pending its disarmament."

Even Anakin looked puzzled by this, but Leia did