A.N. – I offer a distinct apology to all my neglected readers! Exams and some (unfortunately necessary) medical work have been occupying my time, and I honestly can't say when the next post will be. :/ However, I offer this latest installment as a consolation!

Enjoy!

A soft moan of rare delight escaped Padmé's dry lips, as the water-supplements spilled out of the heating drum and into the bath, the insulation bubble confining the warmth...

It was... sad, really. After the relocation, this simple luxury was the only thing she found true enjoyment in. Well, this and the children, of course.

All things considered, she mused silently, ducking her head back and allowing the hot liquid to soak through her curls, the twins had adapted to the relocation quite well... The only concern was keeping them confined to the living quarters, and out of the battle stations...

"WHAT-?!"

"Only for the next several years, until the surrounding systems are secure –"

"Then why couldn't you move the capital to one of the outlying worlds, or –or –Ani, I couldn't live in a place like–!"

"The uprisings are increasing, and I will not leave you here with the twins while the capital is at risk! Is that clear?!"

The look in his eyes frightened her for a moment – it was fiery, almost demonic...

She had only nodded, suddenly very much aware of how... small she was, compared to her husband...

The transition had been harsh – at least from her perspective. The palace had a human feel, a sense of warmth, that the battle station and the flagship conspicuiously lacked. Everything was harsh and metallic, and carried a too-bright, lifeless sheen that she couldn't help but find stifling.

The water jets switched off, and thick foam gushed from the sides of the bath, enveloping her skin and infusing the air with the scent of nubian roses...

"Mmmmm..."

"M-ma?" a voice chirped from the open door, muffled slightly by a thumb locked between soft lips.

Liquid spilled from her hair - now a solid, shining slab of deep black-brown all down her back – as she sat up and flashed a smile to the tiny figure in the doorway, stretching out her dripping fingers.

"Hello sweetheart – come here, come to mommy..."

Luke toddled over on baby legs, still unsteady, but capable, and caught her hand.

There was a long silence as he simply clung to her, sucking steadily at his thumb.

She smiled, and ruffled his sandy hair, simply enjoying the innocent affection – with Anakin's continued absence, it made the simple moments with the children all the more valuable...

Struck by an idea, Padmé sloshed out of the tub, liquid streaming down her body, and helped her son wriggle free of the pale grey tunic, slacks, and the japor pendant his father had carved for him, before she lifted him into the bath with her.

The tiny bones of his spine jutted out beneath her hand as he cuddled into her lap, the bath foam lapping at both of them gently. At a sudden urge, she ducked her head into the little stretch of flesh between neck and shoulder, inhaling the baby scent that remained – breathing him in.

He squealed, ticklish, and wriggled in her arms – she relented, and laid a firm kiss to the back of his neck, where soft skin met golden hair, alarmingly like his father's...

The comm beeped.

"Milady?! MILADY?!"

Startled, Padmé lifted Luke against her chest and waded through the bath, stabbing her finger against the com button –

"Dormé? What's –"

"Outside the viewports – Oh Force, oh Force -!"

Wait – why – Dormé was a slab of durasteel, her greatest panic had been a breathless query about her well-being, after her brush with death...

A soft glow illuminated the duraglas windows, different from the blue security holos that played over the cold cabins as they slept – it carried warmth, life, vitality...

And as her dark eyes reached through the viewport, her heart paused...

Her homeworld appeared as it always had; a lovely, blue-green gem in the midst of frozen space. The three moons hung suspended like pearls about the orb, turning slowly with the seasons...

It should have filled her with joy, with delight. She could bring her children home, they could meet their grandparents, their aunt, their cousins... they could play in the palace courtyards, paddle in the lakes, greedily devour holiday cookies with healthy, childish impatience...

Then why was she overwhelmed by such a sense of inexplicable dread?...

A sudden vibration rocked the floor. Fluid splashed over the edge of the bath.

A bolt of green cut through the black sky, illuminating the universe for a fraction of a second as it struck the planet in the heart – and the world exploded.

Padmé stared, her jaw slack.

All her life, her home, her childhood, her history – gone in less than a moment. Her family, the few childhood friends... Gone. All gone.

Dormé sobbed hysterically over the comm.

"No..." Padmé whispered to herself, softer and softer... "No... no... no... no..."

Trembling, the empress clutched her son to her chest, his delicate heart beat thrumming steadily against her own frantically drumming pulse. Little arms twined about her neck.

"M-ma..." he mewed quietly, unknowing, uncaring, as his mother shed stunned tears...

"ANAKIN!"

Every officer, petty officer, and pilot turned his head as the empress rushed down the catwalk–clad in only a simple shift, her hair still wet...

Strong arms caught her before she could reach the black-cloaked figure on the observation deck.

"ANAKIN! H-HOW COULD- WHY?! WHY?!"

He didn't seem to hear.

Her face went slack as the blood in her veins froze solid, Mothma's words rushing back to her mind...

"Do you know anything of what he's become?! –"

No... no...

"This is madness..." she whispered, barely loud enough for the trooper restraining her to hear. "Madness..."

She broke loose with a sharp struggle, heart-broken tears bathing her face as she fled through the endless maze of corridors, images and voices screaming, flashing through her mind...

"I'm a person-!"

"Then they should be made to..."

"Everything will soon be set right..."

"... the first galactic empire...!"

"It's on every holonet frequency-!"

"The possibility of assassination –"

"... testament named me his inheritor..."

"NO!" Padmé screamed as she crumbled to the metal floor, sobbing helplessly.

Yes. He had destroyed the democracy she had given her youth and life to create. He had exterminated the last peacekeepers of the galaxy. He had paved the way for dictatorship. He had murdered his way to the throne... And she had never seen it. How? What had she been looking at?

Luke and Leia were ensconced in the playroom, blissfully unaware – until their mother burst through the doors, her eyes red, her hair in wild, tangled ringlets about her face...

Her son wriggled to his feet, murmuring her name questioningly, but Leia remained silent and stationary on the play cushion, yet to speak a word...

Ignoring the nurse droid's frantic whirrings, Padmé snatched up her children and rushed for the turbo-lift, punching in the code for the hanger bay, and praying desperately. She likely had less than twenty standard minutes – the nurse driod would have alerted the household security system by now, which activated a code directly to the 501st legion... and with them would come...

Grief and rage flooded her mind at the thought of him, just as the lift doors spun open.

Leia was whimpering in her arms, but she paid her no mind, entering the security over-ride into the gate shield system... the generators shut down instantly, and she set off at a maddened dash across the hanger, Luke clutching at her hand and racing to keep up...

The Falcon was docked in the third hanger port, and the entry bridge had already been lowered. Her bare feet scrambled against the durasteel, as her daughter wriggled frantically, a long wail beginning to stream from her little throat, only to be cut off by the anguished roar that carried through the enormous chamber-

"PADMÉ!"

Blaster rifles could be heard snapping from every alcove –

She screamed and pulled the children beneath the overhang of the bridge, red lasers burning into the hull of the vessel – warning shots – and in her panic, she almost failed to notice the tiny body squirming free of her grip...

"LEIA, NO-!" she cried helplessly as the two year old ran – ran – through the storm of blaster fire –

"DADDY!" she screamed – her first word since birth – as she flung herself into her father's arms, directly in front of a battalion of clone troopers.

Vader clung to his daughter – his beauty, his princess – his mouth pressed to her dark hair as he rocked her gently, fixing his eyes on her mother, yards away.

Eyes that had turned yellow.

Seething.

A.N. - Review? Maybe? Please?