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Title: The Sith Lord and the Scientist section ‘C’
Author: Maia (maia@bastcastle.org)
Rating: mostly PG-13 with some NC-17 here and there.
Characters: Vader, OFC, a few other OC’s, and familiar faces.
Category: AU, Adventure, Romance, some Angst.

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this, and he doesn’t belong to me. Darn.

Summary: Maia and Vader’s son is born, and Michael’s meddling prompts the Sith Lord to make a series of disastrous choices he later regrets.

Bast Castle, Vjun. Year 1, Month 1.

DAY 15

I wake to the sound of Ani sealing his helmet. He’s up and about early today.

‘I had planned to run a few errands before spending the day with you,’ he admits, ‘but that won’t be happening now.’

‘Taking a day off are we?’ I tease. ‘No session in the salle with Hethrir? No business in your office to finish up? No reports on rebels to read?’

‘Not today. You will need me here today,’ he tells me.

I open my eyes and give him an annoyed look. There is something going on and he isn’t coming clean with it.

‘What are you up to, Sith Lord?’ I ask.

‘I am not up to anything,’ he scolds. ‘You will be the one doing all the work.’

Now I am both curious and a bit worried. This does not sound very good. I watch Ani come over to the bed, pull a pillow out of the way and sit beside me.

‘No more bedrest for you,’ the Sith Lord announces.

‘What?’ I blurt out. Reena has kept me off my feet and in bed, resting, ever since New Year’s eve.

‘Up you get,’ Ani insists, tugging my collection of pillows away from me.

‘Ani,’ I growl, ‘I am supposed to stay in bed.’

‘Not anymore,’ he warns, yanking the covers off, ‘so get up.’

‘But,’ I start to protest.

‘You need to be mobile, my wife,’ he scolds, ‘it will be much easier on you if you move around a bit.’

I give up arguing. Obviously he will persist in being a pest until I do as he wants. I can always go back to bed when he leaves.

‘Shower time,’ he orders next.

I stare at him. ‘No bath?’

‘No, not today,’ he promptly answers.

He reaches his hands towards me, so I take them and let him pull me to my feet. As I stand, a familiar, frightening, and painful sensation hits. No, not again. I hated the contractions I had to deal with a few weeks ago.

‘Ani?’ I ask, wondering how he knew.

‘You had painless ones again while you slept,’ he owns up, ‘and you are far enough along now that it is safe for our son to be born. Reena knows already. She will come when you want her to.’

I lean against his strong body and hold onto his robes. Breathe, I remind myself, just like Michael told you to.

***

I hold her steady and do my best to ignore the pain I feel from her. Even though it is second hand, it is quite distracting and uncomfortable to experience this along with her. And my poor little wife will have hours of this to deal with.

The pain subsides, so I steer her towards the observation room. Walking is supposed to make it easier for her and help speed things along. When she isn’t in the grip of a contraction, I will do my best to occupy her mind with anything amusing I can think of.

I settle her on a chair in my office and dig the sabacc deck out of my desk.

‘Gambling?’ she teases. ‘And what will the stakes be?’

‘Dinner at the Menarai,’ I offer.

She will enjoy a meal at Coruscants’s premiere restaurant. Maia’s eyes widen. Obviously my wife didn’t expect that at all. I can see her debating what she might match that with.

‘Don’t worry about your wager,’ I decide. ‘We’ll just play for fun instead.’

Fifteen minutes later I set my cards down and help her up again. The next contraction will start soon and I want her to move a little bit before it does.

We are in the dining area when it hits her.

‘It hurts, Ani,’ she complains. ‘Can’t you do something?’

I hold her close again and shake my head. Numbing the pain at this point might delay her labor or cause problems later. Maia will just have to suffer through it.

‘I wish I could, little goddess,’ I admit, ‘but you know I can’t, not unless you want to risk Reena having to remove him with surgery.’

Her reply is a soft moan as the contraction peaks. Maia ignores my attempts to soothe her, so I remember Reena’s words while I wait for it to end. ‘Childbirth can be risky,’ the doctor had said, ‘but even so, it is best to let things progress as nature intended for as long as possible before interfering. ’

***

A few hours later Ani is still walking me back and forth through his suite. Every time a contraction hits, he stops and lets me use him for support. They are closer together, only a few minutes apart now, and growing more painful each time. We halt again and I wrap my arms around him.

I hate this, Ani, I admit. It hurts.

Soon, my love, he soothes, it won’t go on forever.

Our path is back towards the bedroom again, but I stop mid-step when I feel liquid running down my thighs.

‘The membranes have ruptured,’ I tell him.

‘It’s time to comm Reena,’ Ani decides.

She arrives quickly, waves Ani from the bedroom, and checks to see how I am doing.

***

I make a hasty exit to give Maia some privacy. She will very quickly have none. While I wait for the doctor to finish, I retreat to the observation room and stare out into the distance.

The last ten minutes have been agonizing for her, but it shouldn’t be much longer before my son is born and she can rest as long as she wants to. I will make sure Reena gives her something for the pain as well.

For a moment, I allow myself to worry a bit. Maia doesn’t know that most of my fussing in past months has been to cover my concerns, my fears. Padme died giving birth to our son and I am afraid I might lose my second wife the same way.

Banish that thought, I scold myself. There is nothing to fear or worry about. Reena is the galaxy’s best human obstetrician and she has equipped the castle’s medlab with the very latest technology. Not even the maternity hospital on Imperial Center can boast some of what is now here.

I will be with my wife, by her side, as I should have been with Padme.

Maia will be fine.

Nothing will happen to her.

And my heir will arrive very soon.

***

‘You are almost ready to start pushing,’ Reena admits.

I nod at that. The urge to push has been getting stronger, and there has been a lull in the contractions for a few minutes.

‘Rest while you can,’ she warns, ‘you could have several hours of work ahead of you.’

‘Hours?’ I ask in disbelief.

She just looks amused at that.

‘First births take longer,’ she reminds me, ‘but your son is early and small, so it should be easier for you because of that.’

Small. Small due to the poison and how ill I was because of it. My poor little one was starved of nutrients for several weeks while I recovered.

I look up when Ani wanders back into the bedroom. He’s decided it’s safe to return. Reena glances towards the monitors she has set up.

‘Don’t push yet,’ she warns as I feel my muscles bunch up and demand that of me.

I shut my eyes and concentrate on relaxing. It’s not easy to ignore what my body wants me to do. I feel Ani shift the pillows propping me up out of the way, his weight behind me as he settles in, his arms around my chest as he holds me close.

Someone’s been reading up on how to be a delivery coach, I note.

I didn’t do any reading, is his amused comment, I asked your brother what to do.

Sneaky Sith Lord, I tease.

‘When the urge comes on, push,’ Reena orders. ‘If this position isn’t comfortable, we can move you about into one that is.’

I nod, shut my eyes again and obey her.

An hour later, I am exhausted, sick of pushing, sick of being pregnant and just wish it was all over.

‘Again,’ Reena orders mercilessly.

I can’t, I tell Ani, as I fall back against his chest, I just can’t do it anymore.

I feel the Sith Lord shake his head at the doctor.

‘She’s exhausted,’ he tells her.

‘Then we give her a short rest and try something else,’ Reena decides.

I do as I am told while Ani and Reena have another one of their private talks in Huttese. I am too tired to care.

***

Maia is exhausted from trying to push our son, who is now firmly stuck, out.

//She can’t do this much longer,// I warn the doctor, // and I refuse to risk losing her just to satisfy her wish to do this without any medical intervention.//

//There is one more thing I want to try, first,// Reena replies. //Holding her in a crouch is a more natural position and often does the trick. I’ve prepared for this contingency, but you will need to move and support her.//

//Very well,// I concede, //you may try this, but if there is no immediate progress, you will take her to the medlab.//

***

Reena throws a clean sheet on the floor, and moves some of her equipment down there as well.

‘Breathe through the next few, and then we will move you,’ she orders.

After a contraction ends, I find myself being hauled up and onto my feet before Ani lowers me into a crouch. He uses his body to brace me and his hands to hold me up. Okay, this is different.

‘Gravity will help,’ Reena answers my unasked question, ‘and this position will give you more pushing power.’

She watches one of the monitors closely.

‘Push hard,’ she orders.

I follow her instructions for the next few minutes and feel my son finally move from where he was stuck. This is much better, I decide. A stretching and burning sensation soon follows.

‘He’s crowning,’ the doctor states. ‘Next one should do it.’

Her hands are gentle as she helps ease his head from my body on the next push. The strangest slippery, sliding feelings tell me his shoulders are free, and then he is out of me and on the towels Reena had tossed on the floor. Ani carefully lowers me so I can sit and rest. I can’t pull my gaze from my little son. He’s so ... small and scrawny and wrinkled looking, I decide.

Reena clamps off the cord, severs it and wraps him up. The shock of the cold air on his skin finally prompts a cry of protest. Lungs work, I tell myself. That’s a good sign. The doctor smiles and hands him over to me. I get to hold him first? He fits easily into my arms so I cradle him close and watch his face scrunch up. Someone would prefer to be back where they were a few minutes ago. I gently brush against his mind with my senses, soothing him until his expression becomes more peaceful. He knows me, I soon realize. Cool. Really cool. The misery of the last hours was more than worth it.

I look up at Ani who is staring down at his son. My husband has been quiet the last few minutes and I can tell he doesn’t quite know what to do.

***

He is so very small, is my first thought upon seeing my son. Small, red, wrinkled, and definitely not happy with the feel of cold air on his skin, judging from that howl he just let out.

Reena hands him to his mother, so I stay silent where I am, supporting her back with my legs, watching my wife greet her firstborn, and marvelling at this ordinary, every day miracle.

I feel Maia soothe him with the Force, so I reach out, tentatively, and touch his mind myself.

And from the contented flicker of acknowledgment I receive in return, I know he knows me.

Then it hits me.

He’s my son.

My. Son.

I am too stunned by that to do anything other than stare at him.

***

Why don’t you hold him for a while? I suggest.

No response.

Ani? Are you alright? I prod him.

A sigh breaks his breathing pattern as he takes up my offer, bending over slightly to take our son from my hands. The Sith Lord is careful, treating our little boy as if he were made of the most fragile glass. His eyes never leave our child’s face.

Reena watches this scene silently, letting Ani have a few quiet minutes before she shoos him from the room, son in arms. There is still the aftermath of his birth to deal with. I hear the hiss of a hypospray against my arm. The doctor has opted to give me a break and help nature along. Soon it is all finished with and I am back in bed, in a clean nightgown, waiting for husband and son to reappear.

When Ani returns, I can’t stop myself from smiling. From his body language and the way he is holding our son close to his chest, he has bonded completely with our child. When Reena makes motions to take him from the Sith Lord, he is reluctantly turned over to be cleaned up and a blood sample drawn. She soon hands him back to me.

‘You should try nursing him immediately,’ Reena suggests. ‘I will be back in a few hours with the necessary forms.’

I watch her go before shifting my attention to my son. The doctor has decided to let us settle in as a family without her hovering about, and I am grateful to her for that gesture.

‘He’s so small, Ani,’ I quietly note.

A gloved finger slides the blanket back from our son’s head as Ani sits beside me.

‘He will grow up faster than you think, my little wife,’ he warns.

‘Not too fast, I hope,’ I reply, ‘I want him to have the chance to just be our little boy.’

The Sith Lord is silent at that. We both know that circumstances and fate will probably force our child into the limelight sooner than either of us will want.

‘He has my brother’s reddish-blonde hair,’ I conclude, changing the topic.

‘And his eyes will eventually look like mine,’ Ani adds.

‘Maybe I should try feeding him like Reena suggested,’ I decide.

With my free hand I pull a pillow onto my lap and set my son on it, still cradling him to my chest. The nightgown comes open with a tug or two on the fasteners holding it closed. This could be awkward the first time or two since I have only read about what to do. I do my best to follow those instructions, and after a few failed attempts, my son is busy with his first meal.

***

I watch over mother and child while they sleep. Maia looks tired but content. My son is nearby, in his cradle next to our bed, sleeping soundly as only a baby with a full stomach can. Bringing a chair over, I select a spot to sit where I can see them both without disturbing either one.

No memories threaten to return and haunt me - I never saw my eldest son as an infant, never saw my Padme alive again after that terrible scene on Mustafar. My last images of her were in the holos I had of her funeral on Naboo.

The holos I destroyed a few minutes ago.

Padme is gone. It is long past the time when I should have let her go.

I am finally finished with my previous life.

From now on, Maia and our son are my family, my reason for living.

And I find, to my surprise, that I am truly content for the first time in many, many years.

***

When Reena finally returns, Ani rouses me from my nap. I am tired, sore, and feeling rather battered, but I don’t want to miss hearing what name the Sith Lord has chosen for our son.

‘Everything is in order, my Lord,’ Reena tells him. ‘All that remains is for the child’s name to be added and for the documents to be endorsed by you.’

I watch Ani step to the cradle and look at his sleeping son. He stares at him for a few long minutes, then goes back to the table where the doctor had laid the documents, writes something on one of them and brings it over to me.

I read the paperwork carefully, stopping when I get to our son’s name. Too surprised to say anything, I look at Ani, back at the document, over at our son, before returning my eyes to my husband once again. He wants to give him that name?

‘Acceptable?’ the Sith Lord asks.

I respond with a nod and a smile.

‘Good,’ he adds.

The documents are signed and handed back to the doctor, who is instructed, ‘Delay transmitting this for two days, then send it to Imperial Center,’ before she is waved from the room.

‘ “Mikal” is Sith for warrior,’ Ani tells me, ‘and I knew it is a name you would have no objections to. I just hope it doesn’t inflate your pesky brother’s ego too much.’

Our son interrupts by stirring and I can sense that he’s hungry again.

‘Here,’ the Sith Lord offers, picking Mikal up and handing him to me. ‘You can feed him while I sort out what needs to be done in the next few days.’

He disappears from the bedroom after saying that, but returns as soon as our son is sleeping again. And he is not very happy about something, I decide.

‘I will be gone for a few days,’ he reluctantly admits, ‘but I have arranged for my wingmen to stay as pilots in case you need to leave in a hurry. Thirsk will also be here to keep you safe.’

I remain silent at that. There must be something quite pressing if he is being forced from my side so quickly.

‘Orders,’ Ani reveals, sounding rather disgusted with the situation. ‘I turned off the Holonet while you were in labor and my master recorded very specific instructions I must carry out. I have to leave immediately.’

I catch his hand in mine and give it a squeeze.

‘I understand, love,’ I reassure him, ‘Cyran, Daini and Reena will look after us. Go, do what you need to, and come back quickly and safely to me.’

He pulls me into his arms and holds me for a while, letting our bond resonate with his love for me and our son. Leaving me at this moment is difficult for Ani to do since Mikal is only a few hours old and I am no shape to defend myself.

‘Thirsk will have help,’ he slyly tells me. ‘There are very few who could get past the guardians I have for you.’

What exactly does he mean by that? No answer from Ani, just his low rumbling purr soothing me back to sleep again.

‘Sleep, my sweet little wife,’ he suggests, before easing me back into the pillows and tucking the blankets around me. ‘I will be back soon.’

DAY 22

I wake up late in the morning, but it isn’t Mikal wanting a meal which has roused me. A flailed reach over to the other side of the bed reveals Ani beside me, sound asleep. My swat lands on his ear, and produces an instant reaction.

‘Maia? What’s wrong?’ his sleepy voice responds as he promptly stirs.

‘Nothing,’ I admit, ‘I didn’t expect a Sith Lord in bed with me until tonight, that’s all.’

He grumbles some low complaint before curling up around me and falling asleep again. Ani’s exhausted. Normally he would have stayed awake until the evening rather than crawl into bed with me mid-morning. Whatever he was up to the last few days has left him physically and mentally drained.

Noon comes. Ani is still sleeping, so I leave him there, gather Mikal into my arms and head for the observation room to feed him. His father needs to rest. After my son’s meal, I settle in to meditate for a while. Mikal is perfectly safe here beside me, no need to worry.

Hours later, I am happily singing nursery rhymes to Mikal. Ani left a few minutes ago to practice in the salle with Hethrir, so I have the suite to myself and can be as silly as I want to.

Hesitant steps cause me to stop mid-phrase. Rillao has come to see me and I know she is extremely upset despite her attempts to hide that. Why is she here? Ani stopped her lessons in healing with me a few weeks ago when the Firrerroan refused to use the dark side as he demanded of her.

‘My Lady?’ she questions.

I open my arms to her and hold her close when she runs to me and bursts into tears.

‘It’s alright, child,’ I soothe as I had done the first day I met her. ‘You can tell me what is upsetting you.’

‘He hates me,’ she blurts out. ‘I love him and he completely despises me.’

Oh, boy. Just what I need. The equivalent of a teenage lovers’ quarrel.

‘Why do you say that?’ I ask, needing more information to work with.

‘He taunts me, calls me unworthy of him, mocks me as weak and foolish,’ she bursts out. ‘He even said I was stupid to want to be a Jedi, that the dark side was much better. One such as him does not deserve a name.’

This is even worse. Now she is getting into areas I am forbidden to interfere in. Her training is the Sith Lord’s domain.

‘Your husband took us to our homeworld. He told the unnameable one to prove his loyalty, destroy the traitors who were there. Then he stood by while ...’ she stops and looks at me. ‘He let my world, my people be destroyed. All of them. A few are to be used as slaves, but the rest... ‘ her voice trails off again, ‘... he let the one I will not name release a plague. They all died. Infants. Younglings. Oldsters. All of them. Everyone on Firrerre is dead now.’

Ani never mentioned any of this to me. Just that the Emperor had ordered him off somewhere. Is Rillao lying? Or telling the truth?

I reach out with my senses, checking for the truth, seeing what her emotional and physical state is. Dear Gods, she is telling me the truth. Ani, I think, were you really following orders this time or not? Ruthlessly, I bring my own emotions under control. The Sith Lord I will deal with later.

I let my healing abilities soothe her, looking for the center of her distress. With a jolt of shock, I release her. No. Oh, no. She’s pregnant. And her son is Force-blind. Ani is going to be furious. After all his careful maneuvering to get those two to mate and reproduce, his plans have fallen completely apart.

‘You know,’ Rillao quietly observes.

I just nod. Of course Rillao knows about her child. Her healing talents will easily eclipse my own some day.

‘Your husband knows as well,’ she admits. ‘He said he would ...’

I cut her off with a gesture. This is something I don’t want to hear.

‘... have the doctor rip my son from me, but he can’t,’ she continues, ignoring my discomfort. ‘To do that would kill me. Our species’ life cycle won’t allow for a pregnancy to be terminated once it is established. So instead he will take him from me and kill him once he is born, then force me to accept that unnameable one as my mate again. And again. Until he gets the child from me he wants.’

I stare at her, sickened at her words. This is something Ani’s anger would have prompted him to say. If he were thinking clearly, the Sith Lord would have used another, more sensitive and successful approach.

‘But I won’t allow that to happen, my Lady,’ Rillao defiantly finishes. ‘I won’t.’

This is something I need to stay out of completely. While I pity this poor girl, if I help her in any way, Ani will know and punish me for it.

‘I can’t help you,’ I warn her. ‘If I do, my own child might suffer for it.’

‘I know that,’ she tells me. ‘I came to you for something else.’

My senses sound an alarm, but I am still weak from my son’s birth and not fast enough to get away from her. I feel Rillao’s lightsaber crack against my skull. Stunned, I fall to the floor and watch her grab my comlink. She runs from the room while I try to still the ringing in my ears, and returns a few seconds later.

‘Good-bye, my Lady. I will remember you with kindness,’ she says in farewell. ‘You at least have a generous heart and understanding soul. Not like that creature you are married to.’

With that Rillao shuts the door and I hear the control panel spark. She’s fused it with her ‘saber, no doubt.

I roll onto my side and look over at Mikal. He’s still asleep. Trust a child to not react to any of that. A touch to my head reveals a throbbing bump on it. At least she didn’t hit me too hard. With a sigh, I decide to let Ani know what just happened. If Rillao thought he was angry before, she has no idea what her actions have unleashed.

Ani, I quietly call, interrupting his sparring session.

I know, I felt it, he tells me. She stole the command codes for my shuttle and has just left the landing platform.

She was afraid for her son, I tell him. Don’t judge her too harshly for that. If the situation were reversed...

Don’t try to make excuses for her, he snaps at me, She was weak and foolish. One of Hethrir’s tasks as the Emperor’s new Procurator of Justice will be to hunt her down and drag her back. She will be his mate, willing or not.

I cringe at that. Discussing this topic further will only infuriate my husband more.

She locked me in and fused the door controls, I inform him. Mikal is fine - she never touched him - but my head hurts where she clobbered me.

It is almost an hour later before Ani lets me out of the observation room. He could have come sooner or sent someone, but I know he left me locked in as a warning. I look up from where I am sitting with our son in my arms. His father is still angry and Mikal can feel it. My son whimpers a little, nuzzles into my breast, turning to me for comfort. I soothe him while I wait for the Sith Lord to say something to me.

‘I have sent Hethrir to my master who was most pleased with his demonstration of loyalty,’ Ani reveals.

I flinch at that and Ani sees it.

‘I have no idea what Rillao told you, but the decisions for how to punish the Firrerroans were Hethrir’s, not mine. My orders were to stand aside as an observer and facilitate what he wanted. To interfere would have been dangerous,’ he tells me next.

I start to rock Mikal in my arms. Ani did nothing and let all those innocent people die. An irritated hiss escapes his mask at that thought.

‘And what would you have had me do, Maia?’ the Sith Lord finally explodes at me. ‘Risk my life? Risk yours and my son’s lives? I cannot blatantly disobey my master to that extent and expect to survive his wrath. Do you really think I enjoyed watching an entire world die?’

The tears which had started partway through his tirade reach the point where I start to sob audibly. Ani’s tormented conscience is wreaking havoc with his emotions and he is now leaking them over to me through our life-bond. I hold Mikal closer, crooning to him to comfort myself as much as my son.

***

I wait for Maia to say something in return, but there is only silence and weeping.

Is my wife really that naive?

If I were to defy my master’s wishes, I would be punished for it. Maia might be hurt because of it. My son might suffer for it.

Despite how wasteful Hethrir’s methods were, despite my own feelings, I had no choice in this. I had to follow my master’s orders.

I stare down at her, annoyed at how blind she can be at times.

For a second, my inner voice scolds me, reminds me that I could have persuaded Hethrir to do something else, something less final, less holistic. I ignore it.

‘Stay here like a foolish woman and weep, then,’ I snarl at her in frustration, taking my anger at my inability to do anything about the situation out on her, ‘since you have nothing useful to say to me.’

***

I hear him spin about and storm through his quarters.

That wasn’t my Anakin who was just here, I try to convince myself. My husband is far too upset to be thinking or speaking rationally. If he were, he would never have said that to me. Never.

‘It’s alright, sweety,’ I soothe my little son, ‘daddy’s just a bit upset. He didn’t mean to say that.’

‘Stop trying to come up with excuses for him,’ Michael scolds. ‘He knew exactly what Hethrir was like, how much resentment he held for his own people. Anakin could have easily stopped the genocide before it started, if he had really wanted to.’

‘That’s not true,’ I argue back, ‘He had orders.’

‘Orders?’ my brother mocks as he takes a seat next to me on the floor. ‘Come on, Maia, you know better than that. All he had to do was make a few suggestions and Hethrir would have followed them.’

I refuse to answer that.

‘And you. You are not much better than him,’ he digs into me next. ‘You could have helped that poor girl. Anakin is no fool. He knew you understood how that child thought. Your own suggestions for how to manage her would have saved Rillao much pain and misery. And you did nothing, nothing from the very start.’

‘I couldn’t interfere...’ I try to justify my inaction.

‘Don’t give me that crap, sister dear. It doesn’t become you at all. You didn’t even try. Where is the feisty child I once knew? The woman who refused to let an injustice go by?’ Michael taunts. ‘Gone. Replaced by a Sith .... ‘

‘Go away,’ I order him, ‘go away and leave me alone.’

Michael promptly vanishes. If he had intended to provoke me, he has succeeded handsomely.

And don’t ever, ever come back, I send out after him.

I remain where I am, staring out the window at the stark, barren landscape. When my son needs my attention, I look after him, but my eyes are always drawn back to the sharp, jagged peaks in the distance.

You can’t stay here forever, I finally scold myself, you need to eat, to properly look after yourself and Mikal. Ani will sort himself out eventually.

But will I?

Will I ever look at him the same way, knowing what he allowed to happen?

I shut my eyes and let out the ragged sigh I had held in for hours.

Time to go and eat and try to do as the Sith Lord does when something bothers his conscience - simply forget about the entire mess.

Hours later, Ani finds me sitting on a footstool beside Mikal’s cradle. I ignore him and keep my eyes on our son.

‘The rebels are staging guerilla style attacks on several of the Core Worlds,’ the Sith Lord flatly announces. ‘I have been ordered back to the fleet to deal with it. You will be staying here.’

I nod in response to that. He has decided I am to have no further involvement in his work. There will be no more excursions on the Executor for me, regardless of Palpatine’s ‘gift’.

‘It may be quite some time before I can return,’ he warns me next.

Another nod from me. This is not surprising to me at all.

‘If you have healed from his birth by then, I will expect you to be ready for me when I do return,’ he tells me.

Ani runs a finger from the top of my head, down my face, to my chest. His other hand joins the first, cupping my breasts as he pulls me in close from behind. I tip my head up to look at him. There is no hint on his face that he is still angry with me, but no love, either. How many steps backwards has he fallen this time?

‘I will spend the night finishing my departure preparations. You should sleep,’ he decides.

***

I lead her to the bed and tuck her in. My kiss is to her forehead, not a passionate one like I usually give her. She will know from that I am still annoyed at her.

As I go back to my office, I debate whether or not my decision is the right one.

A Star Destroyer in the middle of a bloody campaign is no place for her or my son. They will be safe here, guarded by Thirsk and my Noghri. Maia will just have to adapt to living apart from me. She has refused to use a nanny ‘droid so she will be too busy with my son, for the first few months, to really notice my absence anyway.

And when I do return, I won’t delay enjoying myself with her by a single day more than is necessary.

***

Ani leaves me after that, so I lay in bed, brooding and watching Mikal sleep.

My life is going to be a lonely one. The Sith Lord’s visits will be few and far between. Somehow I keep my misery to myself. Ani warned me long ago that this is what it would be like once I had a child. He warned me and I accepted those terms. It was a foolish notion to think he would change his mind about that just because I asked the Emperor to bend the rules for me.

I grab his pillow and wrap myself around it. Mikal will be hungry again in a few hours and I need to sleep.

***

A shift in the Force distracts me from the last of the reports I need to deal with. Michael has chosen to pay me one of his late night visits.

‘What do you want, pest?’ I growl at Maia’s brother. ‘I have work to do and don’t want you to bother me with any of your usual nonsense.’

‘And a good evening to you, too, Anakin,’ he cheerfully chirps back.

‘You don’t have my permission to call me that!’ I snap a reminder at him.

Not that it will do me any good. He has always refused to address me properly.

‘My, aren’t we the cranky Sith Lord tonight,’ he observes, baiting me.

‘And you are being an annoying Jedi ghost,’ I fire right back. ‘Go away and let me work.’

‘Why?’Michael prods. ‘Are you busy planning something that you don’t want me to know about?’

‘No,’ I say a bit too quickly.

Damn. That was a mistake. Now he will hang about, snooping and spying, until he knows exactly what I am doing. And I need to keep that a secret from him and from his sister. After my wife’s reaction to what happened on Firrerre, hearing that the same plague will be used to sterilize rebellious worlds elsewhere will only upset her more.

‘You’re hiding something,’ he shrewdly notes.

I give him an irritated look.

‘I am hiding a great many things, none of which is any of your business,’ I snap at him.

Doing my best to ignore him, I pick up and resume reading the report I was in the middle of. The virus spread quickly among the Firrerroan population, but it is nowhere near as effective as the necrotizing bacteria my lab was developing on Falleen. Still, the figures are more than acceptable. And other species may prove to be more susceptible to it than the one it was just tested on.

Michael sits down in a chair across the desk from me and watches my face intently as I read.

‘You are not very happy with what happened,’ he observes.

I keep reading.

‘Anakin,’ he states, ‘you might be able to fool my sister with your Sith Lord act, and maybe you can continue deceiving the Emperor, but you can’t keep lying to yourself, much as you are trying to.’

My eyes stay on the text, but the words no longer make sense to me. I am too focussed on what my wife’s brother is saying.

‘Sooner or later,’ he tells me, ‘you will have to decide who and what you are, and what is most important to you.’

At that, I toss the flimsies in my hand on the desk.

‘I know exactly who and what I am - Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith,’ I proclaim, ‘supreme military commander and second only to the Emperor.’

He merely looks amused.

‘You seem very sure of that,’ he replies, ‘but you really ought to record what you just said and listen to yourself saying it a few times. At the moment, I doubt you could convince anyone.’

I get up and walk past him, retrieve a jug of supplement drink from the cooling unit and a glass from the shelf. Michael follows me into the kitchen. As I sip on my drink, he keeps jabbering away at me.

I wish he would shut up, go away, and leave me alone.

I really don’t want to think about the topics he is so inconveniently bringing up.

‘...and one day,’ he keeps talking, despite my feigned disinterest, ‘you will have to take responsibility for everything you have done.’

‘I have always taken responsibility for my actions,’ I snap back, my temper finally rearing its head.

‘Have you really?’ Michael takes another dig at me.

‘Yes,’ I tightly reply.

‘ “I was following orders,” ’ he throws a paraphrase of my words from earlier in the day back at me. ‘Now there’s a convenient way to avoid being held accountable. Do anything you like and pin the blame on your superior.’

I glare at him, furious. He must have been eavesdropping on the conversation I had with my wife. My hand tightens around the glass and the drink in it begins to spill over the edge as I start to shake with my building anger.

‘How many times in your life could you have made the right choice and chose not to?’ he reminds me. ‘You knew what the consequences could be, would be, yet you still made those choices, those decisions. No one else made them for you, so stop trying to blame anyone and everyone else for what you have done.’

My control shatters. He has no right to say this to me. No right at all to scold me like a child. To lecture me like ... like Obi-wan would have.

I hurl the glass at him.

‘Shut up, Jedi!’ I roar at him.

The glass flies straight through him, hits the wall, and breaks into a million pieces.

***

A loud argument wakes me up. Ani and Michael are tearing strips off of one another. It sounds like my brother is winning, too, and the Sith Lord is furious about that. I hear the sound of a glass shattering against a wall. My husband must have thrown it. Another snarled comment erupts from him, then Ani storms into the bedroom, Michael hot on his heels.

‘For once in your life, Anakin,’ my brother snaps, ‘grow up, act your age, and stop blaming everyone else for your own bad choices and mistakes.’

That prompts the Sith Lord to launch the jug in his hands at his tormentor. It passes through Michael’s glowing form to smash and splatter its contents all over the place. Mikal hears that, wakes, and starts crying. That’s it, I decide. I am not putting up with any more nonsense from either of them.

‘Out,’ I snarl, getting out of bed and stalking towards both of them. ‘If you think a Sith Lord has a temper, you haven’t seen anything yet.’

Two sets of eyes go wide. I rarely let my temper loose, but after this afternoon and this display, my patience meter has run out for both of them.

Both men quickly back away from me. I quiet my son with a light touch of the Force and continue my pursuit.

‘You,’ I growl at Michael, ‘brother or not, you are an interfering, nagging pest. I don’t need you acting as my self-appointed conscience. Or therapist. Or whatever it is you think you are playing at. Get lost while I deal with my husband.’

My brother gives Ani a sympathetic look, and before vanishing, states, ‘She let me off lightly. Good luck, Anakin. You might be spending the next year or two sleeping in your pod.’

‘You, Sith Lord, sit down,’ I order, pointing to the nearest chair.

‘Maia,’ he warns in response, refusing to budge.

‘Don’t even think of trying that on me. Sit. Now.’ I snap.

He rather grudgingly complies, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at me once he is seated. So he wants this to be confrontational. Fine. I have had enough of his rotten behavior today and he is going to finally hear from me exactly what I think of it.

‘I don’t know who you are anymore,’ I tell him. ‘One minute you treat me with kindness, the next with contempt and cruelty. Have you kidnaped my husband and left a changeling in his place?’

No answer, just his hostile glare.

‘I don’t much care for your lame excuses for your behavior, either,’ I admit. ‘Michael was right. You need to grow up and act your age instead of like a spoilt, temperamental two year old.’

Silence.

Alright, I will be nasty about it then, since that seems to be the only way to reach him.

‘ “I was following orders,” ’ I mock him. ‘Shall I have that engraved on your tomb, Anakin? For once in your life, take responsibility for what you have done and stop blaming me or the Emperor or anyone else for your own poor judgement.’

His eyes narrow and he bites back whatever he was going to say. Anger spikes across our bond. I must have hit a nerve at last.

‘ “I had no choice”,’ I try next. ‘An even better epitaph since that’s become your mantra of late. I am tired of hearing it, Anakin. Everyone has a choice. Everyone. Even you.’

He shifts uncomfortably at that but still gives no reply. His control is absolute and I can read nothing from him.

Fine.

I turn my back on him and return to the bedroom, locking the door after myself. Let him sulk. Let him act like a two year old. I have better things to do with my time than force a grown man to act his age and take responsibility for his actions.

***

I obey her command to sit down and prepare myself for another scolding. This time, though, I will listen to Maia’s words, all of them, without voicing a reply. After the argument with her brother, I am no longer certain I can contain my fury. And I know if I allow myself to react and say anything, I will probably lose my temper completely and hurt her as a result.

‘I don’t know who you are anymore,’ she starts in on me. ‘One minute you treat me with kindness, the next with contempt and cruelty. Have you kidnaped my husband and left a changeling in his place?’

Contempt? Cruelty? I may have been short with her this afternoon, but those words are far too harsh a description.

I stay silent and let my eyes harden a little.

‘I don’t much care for your lame excuses for your behavior, either,’ she continues. ‘Michael was right. You need to grow up and act your age instead of like a spoilt, temperamental two year old.’

So, it seems that I am to hear the same lecture from both siblings today.

‘ “I was following orders,” ’ she echoes her brother’s and my words. ‘Shall I have that engraved on your tomb, Anakin? For once in your life, take responsibility for what you have done and stop blaming me or the Emperor or anyone else for your own poor judgement.’

It is all I can do to restrain myself when she repeats her brother’s criticisms.

‘ “I had no choice”,’ she says next. ‘An even better epitaph since that’s become your mantra of late. I am tired of hearing it, Anakin. Everyone has a choice. Everyone. Even you.’

I wrap myself in ice-cold, iron-clad control, refusing to let her see just how angry I have become.

When I don’t answer, Maia turns and stalks from the kitchen back into the bedroom, locking the door after herself. I let her go, then get out of the chair and start pacing.

Her brother must have spent part of this afternoon with her. He must have planned this, then, I decide, furious. Planned his attempt to manipulate me by using his sister.

Damned Jedi ghost.

I should have got rid of him the instant I first sensed his presence.

I won’t be manipulated by any Jedi, living, dead, or otherwise.

They want me to make a choice? Very well, I will make one.

From now on, in public and private, I will be every bit a Sith Lord.

***

I go to the cradle, pick Mikal up and settle into bed to feed him. The door opens a minute or so later, and Ani warily looks in at me. Concerned you might get chewed out some more? Or testing the waters to see if it is safe to come closer? I ignore him and wait to see what he does.

There is a tentative step, then another. I keep my eyes focussed on Mikal’s face. Even when Ani sits down on the bed, I still pay him no heed.

‘I would prefer not to part on hostile terms,’ he quietly states.

I stay silent.

He sighs next, then tells me, ‘I don’t like hurting you. Or upsetting you. Or causing you grief and misery. But what I do for my master inevitably does that. All I can do is try to keep that from you by staying silent or isolating you. Today’s experience has taught me that the first doesn’t work and neither does the second. You always seem to find things out whether I want you to or not.’

Ani tips my face up. The harsh and firm stare he gives me is a bit frightening, and I know I crossed the line with him in scolding the Sith Lord the way I just did.

‘I know you are upset and angry with me, both for my unkind comment earlier today and for waking our son, but I have little tolerance for scenes like the last one, Maia,’ he warns. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’

I shiver a bit. He must have been very close to losing his temper with me. No wonder he refused to say anything.

‘If you want to go with me tomorrow, there is a price to be paid. I want several promises from you. You will stop judging my actions and choices all the time. It is not your place to question what I do. Even if I do something which hurts you, you will never challenge me like that again.’

I bite my lip to hold the tears back and nod at him. He’s acting the same way he did the first two days we were together on the Executor, lecturing me on proper behavior, treating me like a disobedient child.

‘And your brother is banned from my presence. If he cannot be civilized, I do not want him anywhere near me. Nor do I want him interfering in our lives any longer. You will not call him without my permission and will send him away if he persists in appearing where he is not wanted.’

That order makes me choke a little. Michael was the only reason I was able to cope when Ani locked me up. Banishing him is cruel.

‘And necessary,’ the Sith Lord flatly, firmly states. ‘Despite his usefulness and help, he has meddled too much already. You act more like his wife sometimes than mine, heeding his every word, following his stupid notions of what is best for you and for me. I will tolerate no more of that Maia, or I will do something to permanently get rid of him.’

I answer with another reluctant nod. I have lost my brother for a second time, I sadly realize.

‘You are my wife, Maia. My wife. My Lady. I expect you to obey me without any arguments or scenes. Remember, I have asked you to make these promises when I could have simply commanded them of you.’

The tears start to escape. This is the Sith Lord speaking, not my Anakin. My love would never be so cruel and ruthless.

‘Your promise?’ Ani insists, ignoring my distress.

‘I will do as you want, my Lord,’ I quietly answer.

‘Good. Now let me put Mikal to bed for you,’ he offers. ‘We will be leaving early and you need to sleep.’

I let him take our son and settle under the covers. Ani is quick to push Mikal into a deep sleep and I know I will have a few extra hours of rest before I have to feed him again. The Sith Lord returns to his office to resume working after that. There is no goodnight kiss from him at all, and I wonder, who is it that I am married to now? This is not the man I first met, nor the playful, teasing Anakin of a month ago. Nor entirely the cold, ruthless Sith Lord. This is another facet of his personality entirely. The military commander. And I don’t think I like it very much at all.

The Executor, Talay, Talay system. Year 1, Month 2.

DAY 15

Mikal is one month old today, I note as I watch my son coo happily at me. When I smile at him, he returns it, so I pick him up and hold him close. My little boy, I love you so very much. And you have filled the hole in my heart left by your uncle’s banishment.

I look up when Ani comes into the bedroom. My husband. My captor.

‘I will be on the Arc Hammer meeting with General Mohc today,’ he coldly informs me.

Then he is gone again. I don’t bother getting up to check the door into our private quarters. He will have locked it as he left. Only when he is in his office or pod, or decides I am allowed some exercise in the salle am I ever let out.

I brush my fingers over Mikal’s head. I don’t know who his father is anymore. It’s like the man I fell in love with and married has been replaced completely by a ruthless, cold-hearted Sith Lord. Not once since we left Vjun has he held me. Or kissed me. Or even slept beside me in our bed. I am beneath his notice. His wife in name only. Only when he looks at his son does any warmth creep into his expressions. And then ... I sigh sadly at my memory of this morning. Mikal had smiled at Ani for the first time and it was like a torch lit up inside my husband as he returned it. But just for a moment. Only for a moment. Then the stoic look was back again, the helmet and mask replaced over his face. He takes those off to familiarize our son with his appearance and to occasionally share a meal with me. But that’s all. He sleeps in his pod, showers when I am busy elsewhere, refuses to say anything other than the bare minimum to me.

I don’t have a marriage. I don’t know what I have.

He has decided I am his mate, his broodmare. No longer his companion or confidant, no longer his love. When he returns to our bed in a few days it will be for his pleasure, not mine. And to fulfill his desire to produce another child even though he had told me he would wait a while for that. There will be no love, no caring in what we do. And it hurts to know I will be treated like that. How it hurts.

I hold Mikal close and let myself cry out my pain. Ani is gone from the ship. He won’t feel my distress if I am careful. And I don’t want another reprimand like the last time my emotions leaked out to him.

Shivers start again, so I set Mikal back in his crib for his nap and sit on the bed where I can watch him sleep. Pulling my knees to my chin, I try to block out those memories. Memories of a world dying, people crying out through the Force in pain and terror as the plague slowly killed them. He didn’t drug me through any of it, coldly warning me that anything strong enough to spare me that would pass through my milk to our child. Instead he left me locked up for hours while I wept and had hysterics at everything I experienced through the Force. And then he came back and hit me when I could no longer prevent what I felt from reaching him. I touch my cheek. The bruises are still there, still visible. Another broken promise. Another reason to never trust him. To never ...

I choke back another spate of tears. Despite everything he has done to me, I still love him. Can’t stop loving him.

Michael’s light Force presence is near me. He doesn’t appear, doesn’t say a word, but I know he is there.

Why is he foolishly risking Ani’s anger for a second time?

‘Go away, brother,’ I resignedly tell him. ‘Anakin will try to destroy you if he detects you here, and he won’t stop this time despite what it will do to me.’

His presence fades away again.

The comm beeps. I glance at it, then at the holochess game displayed on the table as Tosack’s latest move is relayed to the holo projector’s controls. At least Ani allows me this small entertainment. I shift off the bed and go to examine what the Commander had done. He’s up to something, I decide, as I chew my lip in concentration. That is a rather unorthodox strategy considering we are in the end stages of this match now. I flip through the various boards that are still in play, looking for a hint, a clue to what he could possibly be up to. Nothing obvious jumps out at me so I go back to the board he just moved his Vizier on and stare at it. Alright, I will respond to that. I move one of my Knight’s, tempting him to go after my Emperor, and wait for his answer.

It appears immediately. Tosack is not going to take his time thinking about things. I settle in my chair and send an Advisor to take out one of his Towers. A flash appears in answer. Darn. That was careless of me. I just lost my Advisor. He did that to chastize me for not playing at my best. Alright, Commander, I won’t hold anything back. I study the board intently, putting the position of each piece into my memory and start running predictions through my mind. I find several possible ways to win this board so I reach over and key in my next move ...

Hours later I am still absorbed in the game. We had long ago left the first board and are ranging through the others still in play. I eye his latest move and decide to feed Mikal while I think about what to do. Tosack rarely plays this well or for this long a stretch. He must have a free shift and has decided to keep both of us occupied. While my son sleeps on my lap, I send my Knight over to corner his Emperor. Try getting out of that one, I smugly think. I have spent the last ten moves setting up the trap I am about to spring on him. He promptly concedes that board. What? Not going to play it through? How odd. I accept his surrender and let him choose the next board to finish.

We play that one to a stalemate. The next, I concede to him. The one after that, I win.

Soon this match will be over and we are dead even in the number of games we have won. It is getting late, but the Commander calls up the last board anyway. I guess he has decided to finish it tonight.

I stare at the board. Nasty. Both of us had been ignoring this board so few of our pieces have been lost. This is going to take some time and I intend to win. There will be no hasty decisions here, only well-thought out ones. He moves a Pawn. I reply. An Advisor is offered in sacrifice. I ignore it, refusing to be drawn out so easily, and move a Knight on the other side of the board instead. We trade losses, neither giving an advantage to the other. His Tower threatens my Vizier. I refuse to budge and shift a Knight deep into his defenses.

Come on, come on, I think, take the bait, open up that part of the board. He doesn’t and I am forced to back off. Another foray of that type is just as unsuccessful. Being sneaky and clever isn’t working. It’s like he knows exactly what I have planned. It’s like he can...

I yank my hand away from the board. So, that’s who I have been playing against the last two weeks. Letting out an angry hiss, I glare at the holo projector. Fine, then. The gloves are coming off, Sith Lord. No more nice, polite, little wife. Time for me to fight back and you are going to lose big time.

I launch an all out attack, destroying his pieces whenever the opportunity arises while ensuring he can’t break through my defenses to capture my Emperor. Soon the board is almost empty.

Mikal lets me know he is hungry again, so I study the board while he nurses. Ani has me backed into a corner. Losing my temper was not the best of strategies, but it did clear the board and because of my erratic play, I know the Sith Lord has no idea what I might do next.

When fighting against a superior opponent, be unpredictable, my grandfather had once advised. Draw your enemy in, let him think you are defeated and ready to surrender, then strike when and where he is most vulnerable.

I look at Ani’s Vizier. He had chosen to use the figure of a Queen on this piece rather than that of Sate Pestage. Why? Is there a subtle message for me there? For my own Knights I had used the Sith Lord. Both of us have subconsciously let the other see what we really feel, I decide.

My eyes drop down to our son, then return to the board. I know what strategy will work now.

I move an Advisor to capture his Vizier. Ani blocks that. Another attempt to do the same. Another move to defend. And he’s left his Emperor wide open in the process. I pin his Vizier where he can no longer move it, then ruthlessly make the final attack of the match and destroy his Emperor.

The holochess board winks out as the projector shuts off, but I stay in my chair, staring at it, thinking, for many long, silent minutes after that.

The Executor, Ergo fueling station. Month 2.

DAY 20

I try to occupy my time this morning by singing to Mikal and rereading parts of my three books. The last thing I want to do is think about tonight and what Ani will expect from me. Or what he will do to me if I resist him in any way. Shakespeare is set aside while I brood a bit. The Sith Lord never mentioned the holochess match. He just gave me an odd, measuring look at breakfast the next morning when I told him I had beaten ‘the Commander’. Not Commander Tosack. I had chosen my vague words quite deliberately, to draw him out, but Ani gave no hint that he had been my opponent.

Coward, I scold, you should have told him you knew what he had been up to.

I hear Ani in the kitchen. Lunchtime. Is he going to have his with me or alone in his pod? When he walks in, I know I will have company today. He ignores me completely and has a look at our sleeping son while the room pressurizes. I have been relegated to bystander. An insignificant nuisance. A foolish woman with only one useful function...

***

I hear her thoughts.

‘Stop that,’ I coldly order.

‘Yes, my Lord,’ she meekly concedes without argument.

My eyes are on her as she goes to the table and pours out my meal. She won’t touch her own until I have had mine and left again. Maia has learned that I expect her to be ready to obey me instantly, but her subservient attitude annoys me.

‘I dislike this brooding and moping about you have become so fond of,’ I state, letting her hear my irritation in my voice.

Her thoughts are no longer private, no longer her own. I took that privilege from her days ago.

My wife’s back is to me, but I can see the shaking of her hands. Maia knows I will discipline her if she doesn’t comply with my wishes and apologize. A soft intake of breath and she waits, silently, for the punishment I will inflict on her.

‘No answer from you?’ I snap when she doesn’t reply. ‘No explanation for your appalling behavior?’

‘No, my Lord,’ she whispers.

Anger boils in my blood. Maia should apologize for her attitude, fall to my feet begging for forgiveness, but no, she remains standing, back to me, still defiant. My previous attempts to force her to submit to me have obviously not been sufficient.

Very well, wife. This time I will beat your defiance from you. And I won’t stop until your surrender is complete and absolute.

***

He’s going to hit me again, like he did yesterday when he didn’t like my responses to his questions, I just know it. Or maybe do worse, beat me into doing as he wants like he did before that, on the day he forced me to ...

I am spun about, grabbed by my shoulders and shaken until my hair is a matted mess from being whipped back and forth. Finally it stops. I am too afraid now to say or do anything. All I can do is try to stay on my feet and not cringe too much. His left hand is pulled away, so I brace myself for the blow to follow. The fear must show on my face because he hesitates, pauses, and for the first time in many days actually looks at me. When his right hand releases me, I let myself fall to the floor, my forehead coming to rest on top of his booted feet, my hands to either side of my head. I stay there, trembling like a leaf, waiting for the blows I am sure will come. For an instant and an instant only, I allow myself to hate him, hate this man who beats and torments me.

***

Fear mars her face, twists her features, so I pause, stop the slap I intended to give her, and look at her.

Really look at her.

The remains of an earlier slap still color her cheek, and the wide straps holding her dress in place have slipped off her shoulders with my rough handling. Various cuts and bruises inflicted by my cybernetic hands during previous beatings criss-cross her chest. I know her back, stomach and legs look the same. Only on her face, arms and breasts have I refrained from hitting her.

Prisoners under interrogation have suffered less at my hands than my wife has.

Shocked by what I have done, I release her, but there is no strength left in her. Maia falls to the floor at my feet. She stays there, silent, shivering, her head resting on my boots, waiting for me to finish beating her into submission.

I stretch my hand down, intending to brush the top of her head with my fingers, wanting, needing her to forgive me for what I have done.

Then I feel it.

Cold, black hatred burns across our bond, slams into my mind.

I yank my hand back and instantly recoil away from our bond.

No.

No.

I stare down at her, horrified.

***

‘What have I done to you?’ I hear him ask. ‘What have I done?’

He steps back, then drops to one knee. I shrink away from him when he moves to touch me. Comfort from him? I don’t think so, as I crawl well out of his reach. This is another ploy to destroy what little self-esteem and self-worth I still have. The Sith Lord lets his hand fall and watches me make my way to a corner of the room. I curl up there, next to Mikal’s crib and warily follow his every move through the curtain of my tangled hair.

***

She crawls away from me and cowers beside my son’s crib, arms wrapped around her legs, and head resting on her knees. Through her hair I see that her wary eyes never leave me. Fear pours out into the Force from every inch of her body.

Broken.

I have broken her.

She will never trust me again.

Never love me again.

Something in my soul dies a little as I look at her, realize exactly what she has become, what I have made her into - a twisted reflection of myself.

I pull my hand back, knowing that she will never take it again.

***

Ani doesn’t move other than to set his hand on his knee. When the comm starts chiming, he ignores it. Only when Mikal wakes and starts crying does he get to his feet.

‘Don’t touch him,’ I hiss.

The Sith Lord freezes.

‘I don’t trust you with him,’ I tell him, then add for good measure. ‘I will never again trust you with him.’

I reach above my head and use the side of the crib to pull myself up. Still keeping one eye on my husband, I pick our son up, hold him close, then retreat back to my spot in the corner.

‘I would never harm him,...’ Ani starts.

I cut him off.

‘Just like you said you would never harm me? Just like you swore you would never hit me, never hurt me?’ I lash out. ‘Stop lying, Anakin. Stop lying to me and stop lying to yourself.’

He physically reacts as if I just slapped him, taking a step back and giving a shocked gasp.

‘Forgot you promised that, didn’t you? Maybe you should go think about every other promise you have broken. I bet there is enough of those to fill several libraries,’ I continue to cut into him.

‘Maia,...’ he starts again.

I interrupt him again, this time with, ‘Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. There is no point in apologizing to me since you won’t mean it anyway. And it doesn’t matter. You will just abuse me some more when you feel like it, so why bother?’

I rock Mikal in my arms, soothing him. My poor little one. Leaving my homeworld was a terrible mistake. We would have been happy there, just you and I. And my family would have loved you so very much.

Ani’s footsteps approach me. He’s looking down at us, deciding what to do. I hear the sound of his robes and cloak moving, and breathing close by me so I know he has knelt beside me again.

‘Maia,’ he softly says, trying to soothe me.

Here comes the attempt to make amends. I don’t want to hear this, knowing I am too weak to not give in to him, and I have little strength of will left to say what I need to, necessary and cruel as it is.

This is going to break both of our hearts.

‘Just go away, Anakin, go away and leave me alone. Leave me in peace. Send me back to Vjun where I can be alone,’ I ask of him.

***

The Sith in me wants to shut her up, to silence the truths she has spoken and I don’t want to hear.

The man in me wants to pull her into my arms, to comfort her, to beg forgiveness, to swear once again that I will never harm her.

The Jedi in me knows that if she is to ever again accept me as her husband, I must let her go.

For the first time since I became a Sith, the Jedi wins.

***

He is silent at that and all I can feel from him is loss and pain which matches my own.

‘If that is what you truly wish,’ Ani finally agrees, ‘then I shall do so.’

The Sith Lord rises to his feet, turns and leaves me there, on the floor, in my corner, weeping uncontrollably at what I just lost.

***

I pause just outside the bedroom door and listen to Maia’s unceasing sobs.

For a second time my anger has destroyed the one person I lived for.

What a complete mess I have made of my life.

I ball my hands into fists and look down at them.

Two hands. Two weapons I used ruthlessly against her.

Her weeping still sounds from behind me. Each sob tears into my heart.

I do my best to ignore it and walk, slowly, silently, away.

***

The Executor, Outer Rim. Month 4.

DAY 1

***

It’s been a month and a half since my wife left me. Since I took her back to Vjun to the self-imposed exile she asked for.

The Holonet chimes a transmission. Another recording from her. I acknowledge its receipt but refrain from viewing it immediately. Instead, I will save it for later.

Maia has been most diligent in sending daily reports on our son’s progress, and her short vids and holos are the only things I look forward to these days. They are the only bright spots in my life.

My life.

I set the flimsies down and stare at them.

What’s left of my life has become an unending stream of intelligence reports, rebel chasing and political games. There is little to look forward to each morning except more of the same.

That’s your own fault, my conscience scolds. Just be thankful you didn’t kill her with your beatings. At least Maia is still alive, unlike...

I ruthlessly cut off that thought.

I am lonely and miserable enough as it is without dragging that into it.

There is a stack of reports to finish going through, so I pick up the one I was in the middle of and resume reading. A few minutes later, the comm chimes again.

‘Yes, who is it?’ I snap, annoyed that my first relatively quiet morning in days has now been interrupted.

‘Lieutenant Brie reporting,’ my agent calmly replies.

There is no hint in her voice that my irritation has bothered her, but Shira is not one to let her true feelings show.

‘Enter,’ I order, opening my office door to admit her.

She steps through the door, but I continue reading for a few minutes. The Lieutenant can wait. I need to get through the section I have already re-read four times today. My mind is definitely not on my work. Finally, I give up and drop the report in question back on the top of the pile.

‘Your mission was successful?’ I ask her.

‘Completely, my Lord,’ Shira confirms.

Each mission has been a test for her, a trial to see if she can measure up to my standards. So far, Brie has never failed. One day, when my master is gone, she will be one of my Hands, like Jade is to the current Emperor.

‘We shall work on Sense today, then,’ I decide.

I shove the stack of reports aside and look at the Lieutenant, who is now kneeling on the floor, waiting for her lesson to begin.

Not much has changed since I sent her off on her last mission. She is a bit older, no longer the young teenager I first met, and perhaps her hair is a touch darker, her skin more tanned. I stare at her for a few minutes. Maia’s hair is more golden, I decide, and my wife is taller and slighter in build. Shira’s body is trim, but heavily muscled from a decade of intense physical training...

I ruthlessly yank my mind away from the path it has started to go down.

The Lieutenant looks up at me.

Our eyes meet though she cannot see mine.

‘My Lord?’ she questions.

I get up from where I am seated behind my desk and move to stand in front of her. Indecision takes hold of me. Perhaps now is not the best time to do this, but I don’t want to put off her training session.

‘Clear your mind, Lieutenant,’ I instruct. ‘You remember what we worked on the last time. We will continue with that.’

She promptly obeys, stilling her mind and setting her shields in place, but I can still sense her feelings for me nonetheless.

I reach down and tip her face up.

Surely not?

For a moment I continue to look down at Lieutenant Brie.

Can this be true?

She has never given a hint of this before. So why now?

‘Explain yourself,’ I order.

‘Your wife is away and I want you as my lover, my Lord, it’s that simple,’ she admits.

I let myself laugh a little at that. She’s only eighteen - a child, still. Her lusting after me is both amusing and annoying, but the Lieutenant obviously believes I might return her feelings in kind.

Time to banish that idea from her mind.

‘You must understand that I am a married man,’ I warn her, ‘I am bound to my consort and won’t leave her. And I have no interest in fulfilling some childish fantasy of yours.’

‘I am not a child, and I know what I want,’ she insists.

‘Do you, now?’ I reply, even more entertained.

‘Yes,’ she persists. ‘I want you as my lover.’

I release her and consider what to do. This needs to be dealt with immediately. Ignoring it will only cause more problems in the future. There are two choices, then, either make her realize there is no point in chasing after me, or take advantage of the situation. And I am a man with unmet needs.

Shira sees my hesitation, my indecision.

‘My Lord, shall I help you decide what to do?’ she suggests.

‘Go right ahead, Lieutenant,’ I offer.

This should be interesting.

Her hands reach for my belt. I freeze in place, fascinated by her boldness, and curious just how far she will go. The leather is pulled away, freeing my robes. My codpiece quickly joins the belt on the floor. She pauses, not sure how to open up my leather body armor, so I run a finger down the seam, stopping when she waves my hand aside. Fabric is moved out of her way next and then her hand is wrapped around me, moving in a fashion designed to produce an erection.

Sithspit.

I didn’t think she would go that far. While I debate whether to push her away or let her finish, she sets her mouth on me. Surprised, I step backwards, into my desk and lean against it for support. Shira moves, follows me on her knees, never removing her mouth or losing tempo.

The one thing Maia refuses to do, Shira is doing willingly, voluntarily.

Somehow I keep my hands beside me on the desk and refrain from grabbing her by the shoulders or hair. For a moment, she teases me, runs her tongue over the tip, and at that, poised on the very edge of my orgasm, I finally react.

‘No,’ I reject her, pushing her firmly away. ‘Not like that.’

‘Then how?’ Shira asks, puzzled by my refusal to let her finish.

‘Like this,’ I decide.

With a gesture I flip her backwards onto the floor. Another flick of my wrist and the fabric of her uniform is ripped open and thrown aside. Her body is completely exposed to my view. Shira stays where I have tossed her, motionless, shocked by my actions.

‘Like this,’ I repeat as I drop to my knees between her thighs.

She wants me as a lover? Very well, I will be her lover, but on my terms, not hers.

‘Like this,’ I hiss a third time as I slowly push into her, savouring the initial tightness which soon gives way to my onslaught as I pull out and thrust hard and deep into her.

Shira cries out to me but I don’t slow my thrusts or pause for a moment. This is for my pleasure, not hers. When she tries to shove me off of herself, push me away, I simply pin her hands in place with the Force and continue maintaining my rhythm.

‘Like this!’ I scream as I bury myself completely in her, finally allowing myself to climax.

The Lieutenant is silent beneath me, staring at me, stunned.

‘In the future, Lieutenant Brie, be careful what you ask of me,’ I warn her, ‘because you might just get it.’

With that I pull myself out of her, and take a moment to casually run a gloved finger between her breasts down to her stomach. That was most enjoyable, I decide, and enlightening. I hadn’t suspected that Shira was still a virgin. No matter. She isn’t one any longer. And as a result it will be more comfortable for both of us the next time.

I shift back on my heels, then stand while I let my eyes drift down her body. More than acceptable, I note. My survey stops at her thighs. Only a small amount of blood is smeared inside them. Good. That confirms what I surmised. It wouldn’t do for any lover of mine to have had previous experience.

‘Go, get cleaned up and dressed,’ I order, tossing my cloak over her nude body, ‘and come back here immediately. We need to finish your lesson.’

She slowly gets to her feet, and pulls my cloak around herself, hiding her naked body from me, her eyes never leaving me.

Worried I might make love to you again? I think, amused, as Shira leaves my office.

Not until tomorrow, I decide. And only in here, never in my private quarters. My bedroom is my wife’s domain.

I let out a sigh as I replace my codpiece and belt.

I am lonely and need someone to help relieve my frustrated sexual desires. My once buried passions cannot be ignored or suppressed for very long - those emotions have to be released somehow if I want to keep the dark side from taking too strong a hold on me. Lieutenant Brie will do until a better solution presents itself or my wife comes back to me. And I will make it very clear to Shira that this is only a temporary arrangement with no emotional involvement on my part.

While I wait for the Lieutenant to return, I retrieve Maia’s message and play it. Mikal is doing well, from her brief verbal report. He’s progressing at a faster rate than most babies would, and he is keeping her busy. Good. I can keep my sexual urges and responses away from our bond, and if she isn’t monitoring that closely, she won’t suspect what I am doing.

Maia wouldn’t understand why it is necessary for me to do this.

And the last thing I need is for my wife to find out about my new lover.

***

Bast Castle, Vjun. Year 1, Month 4.

DAY 15

Mikal is three months old today and it has been two months since I have seen or spoken to his father in person. The Sith Lord’s communications have been sparse - the odd Holonet message when he has had the time, the quickly written note slipped into the occasional box of gifts. For my own part, I have been careful to send a steady stream of holos and ‘vids to him. Just because he is with the fleet doesn’t mean he has to miss out on his son’s entertaining antics.

I watch Mikal make another grab for one of the brightly colored balls from Ani’s last package. It is too big for him to hold onto yet, but anything that catches his eye is fair game. Including my hair which I keep braided back or pinned up out of the reach of his busy little fingers. I give the ball a nudge with the Force, rolling it closer. His eyes follow it and when it is within reach, a small hand bumps it back towards me. I roll it back at him again. A squeal of delight emerges and a smile appears. Mikal likes playing this game with me and Ani will get to see it today. After a few more minutes of that, I pick up my son and shut off the recorder. Time to send my husband his daily dose of life with baby.

A few touches to the Holonet transmitter and my message is away. The coding and security measures mean I have no idea where the Sith Lord is, but a beep assures me that my transmission has arrived and been acknowledged.

‘Naptime for you,’ I tell my son.

He coos in response. Silly little one. Soon you will be talking and I wonder if your father will be here for any of that. I put Mikal to bed, soothe him with the Force, and softly sing to him until he is asleep. A stir in the Force tells me two of my ‘guardians’ have slipped into the room. They often sneak in to have a look at Mikal when I am here in the nursery. My son. His father’s heir. Their future ruler. The Noghri owe much to my husband. And these two are sworn specifically to protect his son, with their lives, if necessary.

‘You can stay and watch him for a while, if you like,’ I whisper to them.

Kohvrekhar and Ghazhak take up guard positions beside the crib. There are few, if any, who could get past these two. Ani handpicked them as his own bodyguards long before assigning them to protect his son. They are the very best of their generation - quick and deadly - lethal warriors who would prefer death to failing their master. No, my son is completely safe with those two watching over him.

‘I will be in the observation room if he wakes,’ I tell them.

‘Lady Vader,’ Ghazhak quietly replies in acknowledgment.

I return to my favourite spot and run my eyes over Vjun’s rugged landscape. Using my enhanced senses, I can see that one of Ani’s ‘pets’ has created a series of large ripples on the nearby lake. Nothing else catches my interest so I settle in for an hour or two of meditation. This is one of the things I have spent a fair amount of time at since the Sith Lord brought me back here.

My mind empties as I slow my breathing and let my awareness of my surroundings go. The isolation of the last two months has been a welcome opportunity to sort myself out, so what should I focus on today? There is always THAT question to consider. I shy away from where my thoughts are going. I don’t want to deal with that, the one remaining issue I need to resolve.

Coward, my conscience scolds. You will need to face him sooner or later, and you had better have your mind settled and your feelings well in hand before then. If you don’t, you will end up in another mess like the one you just extracted yourself from.

I sigh and give in.

Do I love him? I ask myself. Do I love him enough to see past the pain he has caused me? Can I ever forgive him those hurts, those blows to my body and heart?

Love ... I once thought I understood what that was. But now? I am not so sure.

‘ “How do I love thee?” ’ I quote to myself and the empty room.

As a child he was my dark hero. A knight in shining black armor. A childish notion, a child’s admiration.

During school I often wished he would appear and chase away my teenage tormentors. A girl’s absurd and foolish dreams of being the damsel in distress to be saved by her dark lord.

In university, infatuation. Following his exploits was an escape from the misery of my day to day life. Dark fantasies of what he would do to me as my sexual awareness developed.

And later ... I tried so very hard to keep myself from falling in love with him. Denied my own heart, refused to see what was so apparent in hindsight, ignored his actions that spoke so much louder than any words could ever do. Until I could remain blind no longer. Until he gave me no choice in the matter and took me with him.

It all comes down to choices.

His - he risked everything to love me, even though it was forbidden to him, even though I would be his weakness, his one fatal flaw.

Mine - I chose to love him, even after I knew and understood what he was capable of, even after he lied to me, hurt me, forced me to, forced me ... I inhale slowly and concentrate on not being sick. Ani doesn’t know that particular memory has returned.

And now? Does he regret allowing himself to love?

The Sith Lord has the heir he desperately wanted. I am superfluous now and no longer necessary. An unsophisticated, ignorant, know-nothing who has done her best to make his life as difficult as possible. He has no reason to continue caring for me. Is that why he took offense at every opportunity and repeatedly punished me the way he did? Beat me for the smallest slight, the most insignificant of errors?

You don’t hurt the person you love. No matter the provocation, you don’t beat them black and blue.

When Ani brought me back here, Reena finally saw the results of his beatings, the bruises and cuts his cybernetic hands left on my skin; the damage he had concealed by hitting me where my clothes would cover it. She didn’t say anything, but the look she gave the Sith Lord would have killed a lesser man.

‘Repair it,’ Ani had ordered before leaving me there in her office. Then he had returned to his shuttle, and left for the Executor without saying another word to anyone.

For almost a month I heard nothing from him, but I was careful to follow his orders and send a short report on his son every day.

Then his first recorded message arrived. He had said little in it, only stated he was pursuing the rebel fleet and that it would be a considerable time before he might be able to visit. The second message was similar, and also the third. Not once has he spoken directly to me. Instead he has hidden behind his recordings, never giving me a chance to respond in real time.

He hasn’t even tried to use our life-bond.

He’s hiding from me. Avoiding me. Is he really that embarrassed by his bad behaviour? That ashamed of abusing me? Or is it that he no longer cares at all?

Actions speak louder than words, and there is only one thing I can conclude from his.

The Sith Lord no longer loves me. That emotion, those feelings, he has ruthlessly eliminated. My playful, loving Anakin is gone forever and the sooner I accept that, the better.

‘Lady Vader?’ Kohvrekhar quietly ventures, breaking my meditation completely.

‘Yes?’ I reply.

‘Lord Vader’s heir is awake,’ he tells me.

I tip my head and listen. Mikal is busy cooing again. He’s awake and wants dinner. I get to my feet. Time to look after my little son. Finishing my meditations can wait until later.

***

The message freezes at my touch so I examine the scene carefully.

My son. My heir. My innocent boy. He is growing fast and I will miss much of his first year of life. Already he is showing signs of the keen intellect he will have as an adult, and the strength in the Force I predicted.

I let the message play again before pausing it once more.

My wife. My beautiful, gentle little wife. The woman who loved me with all her heart, her soul, her being. Until I broke her. Until I utterly destroyed her.

For a moment I felt her hatred and it cut through all my defenses, all the lies, everything I used to protect myself from truly feeling, truly loving.

It was like a dagger twisting in what is left of my heart. And for once, just once, I understood what my own cruel, selfish, foolish actions had wrought. What my anger at her words had led me to. The depths to which I had fallen.

Piett enters my office. I ignore him and continue staring at the frozen holo.

‘My Lord, the fleet is an hour out from Thila,’ he reports.

I don’t answer him.

Maia was right. Michael was right. And I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to accept it and chose to take my anger out on someone who would never fight back, who could never fight back. The one person who loved me unconditionally. My wife who should have received nothing but kindness at my hands, I beat repeatedly and mercilessly instead. And for no reason other than my own stupid, selfish pride.

The truth hurts.

I need to grow-up and stop blaming everyone else for my bad choices, my poor decisions and accept responsibility for the results of them.

I cannot blame Maia for what happened. That was my doing. My fault. Mine. And no one else’s.

Every mistake I made with Padme, I have made ten-fold with Maia. Except for the last one. The fatal one. My second wife had enough sense to leave before I had the opportunity to repeat that particular one.

‘My Lord?’ Piett questions.

I reply with a dismissive wave of my hand. The rebel base can wait a few minutes.

Sith Lords are not supposed to love, yet I loved her.
Sith Lords are not supposed to care, yet I cherished her.
Sith Lords are not supposed to need anyone, but she was my angel, the light in my soul.

I broke her heart.
I beat her without cause.
I destroyed the joy in her soul.

She will have nothing to do with me now.

And I can never blame her for that.

‘I will join you on the bridge, momentarily, Captain Piett,’ I tell the waiting officer who exits immediately.

I get to my feet, cast a glance back at the holo as I leave.

For once I am grateful my face is hidden behind a mask.

Sith Lords are not supposed to weep...

***

My meditations are disturbed by the oddest mix of foreign emotions. Concerned and curious, I brush against Mikal’s mind. No, my son is sleeping and this is too mature for him anyway. He is not the one I am receiving this from. A survey of the castle’s other occupants reveals nothing. Then this has to be from Ani ... but that’s impossible. Why would I feel this from him? And why now?

I tip my head and concentrate. The Sith Lord is preoccupied enough that he doesn’t realize his shields are leaking like a sieve.

My husband is in terrible emotional pain.

Regret is there, along with guilt and remorse for what he did to me. But those are not what is strongest. He’s mourning what he lost. His grief and heartbreak threaten to overwhelm me so I yank my awareness away from our bond.

There is nothing contrived or manufactured in anything I just felt from him. He is genuinely, deeply distraught about our estrangement.

He brought that on himself, I think viciously. I did nothing to earn those beatings. Why should I have any sympathy at all for him? Let him hurt for a while. Maybe he will learn a valuable lesson from it.

I almost get to my feet and go back to the bedroom after making my decision to leave things be, but something stops me. A memory returns. A flash of Ani’s words to a young woman decades ago. Too surprised to move, I stay put and consider what to do.

‘Compassion is central to a Jedi’s life,’ Ani had said to her.

I am a Jedi. Not a Sith. Never a Sith. Hurting Ani further when he needs my forgiveness and compassion would be stooping to the same level he let himself fall to. Or worse.

With the lightest of touches, I let the emotional support I had cut off start to leak back to him. It will be several days before he notices the change in our life-bond. For the moment, I won’t do anything further. I have made the first overture. Now it will be his choice whether to acknowledge it or not. Satisfied with my chosen response, I go to bed, stopping first in the nursery to check on and feed my son.

DAY 21

The chime of a Holonet message arriving wakes me up. I pull the covers over my head and ignore it. It is just another recorded message from Ani that I can play later.

The bell tones continue to ring. Alright, alright, I’ll get up then and see what is so urgent. With a great deal of reluctance, I drag myself out of bed and to the Sith Lord’s office. Sure enough, it’s a recording he flagged as high priority and not a live feed. Growling a bit, I hit playback.

Ani’s image appears.

‘My Lady,’ he begins, ‘I have two messes to clean up. The Admiral has foolishly allowed the rebels to evacuate Thila. It will take several days to thoroughly search their abandoned base. Then I will go to Kiva to sort out the situation there. I expect it will be at least a week before I will be able to contact you again ...’

His usual short, to the point style. No details, no really useful information. Just an itinerary and notice of when to expect his next message.

I reflexively nod at the holo.

‘ ... Our son is doing well, from the holovids you have sent...’

That’s new. He never once mentioned Mikal in his earlier communiqués.

‘... and I appreciate your diligence in sending reports on his progress...’

I let out a snort. Those were reports he ordered me to make.

‘ ... I wish you were here, my little wife. I miss you.’

My mouth drops open and I stare at his image. What? Where did that come from?

Ani motions with his hand, stretching it towards me. As I would usually do, I reach my own out to brush his insubstantial fingers before the holo message freezes as it reaches its end.

I replay the message several times, finally leaving it frozen on Ani’s image with his hand outstretched. This must be his response to my overture of a week ago. An invitation rather than rejection. He has returned the ball to my court.

I let out a slow, controlled breath, settle myself on the floor, and stare at the holo. Our relationship will need to be rebuilt from the ground up. Does he have any idea how much work that will require? The compromises and concessions we will both need to make? How much pain this will put both of us through? Is he truly willing and prepared to do this? Am I?

Small steps, first, I remind myself. Ani seems willing to try, so I will encourage him to open up a bit more and keep the communication going between us. At least he has admitted he is lonely and misses me. And that gesture. He knows what that would mean to me, that I could interpret it in only one possible way.

I push myself up, activate the Holonet terminal and step onto the pad. My recorded message will be short.

‘My Lord,’ I tell him, ‘You will have your second chance.’

With a touch I send it off to him before returning to bed. Mikal will be wanting breakfast in an hour, and the extra few minutes of sleep I will steal will be my first contented ones in months.

DAY 28

I let the Force move and guide my body through the last few patterns of the lightsaber drill. It feels good to be doing this so easily once again. The last few months of my pregnancy I was not allowed this release, and until I healed from Mikal’s birth, I was in no shape to try.

As I finish up and relax, I look over at my little boy and his Noghri guardian. Mikal can’t crawl yet so it is safe to lay him on a blanket in the corner of the salle. Kohvrekhar would never let him get too close even if he could make his way to me.

Deciding to take a short break, I shut off my ‘saber, wander over and let myself collapse beside the two of them. Mikal is starting to make a wide range of noises and is happily babbling to himself. When I pull on the rattle he is holding, I get the raspberry and a few unhappy sounds in objection. My stubborn little one, I think as I let it go. Ani was hoping you wouldn’t share that personality trait with me, but you get that from him as well. Just like you have my husband’s eyes. The slate blue color you were born with has long since been replaced by Ani’s brilliant pale blue. And you have my brother’s hair. My son will have beautiful, striking red-blonde hair.

‘Heartbreaker,’ I tease him. ‘You will have plenty of girls chasing you when you are older.’

His babbling stops as he looks up at me.

‘Listening are you?’ I keep teasing. ‘Maybe I should see which noble houses have daughters your age so I am prepared for when you are a teenager.’

Mikal’s happy cooing sounds resume.

‘That’s a yes, I suppose,’ I tell him. ‘Do you want me to pick out a pretty little princess for you?’

My son answers that with another raspberry and a dropped rattle.

‘Guess not,’ I decide as I start laughing.

I sweep him up into my arms and hold him close, rocking him as I continue to laugh. Babies are such fun and my son is quite precocious for his age. Soon he will be crawling and starting to talk. And I doubt that his father will see any of it.

His father. I shut my eyes and promise myself I won’t cry today. We met exactly one year ago and the Sith Lord did not transmit a holo message to me as he promised to, has not sent a package, has done nothing to mark this day. There has been nothing but silence since I sent him my own short reply to his last missive a number of days ago. Ani’s busy, I try to rationalize, he is probably tied up with whatever the ‘mess’ on Kiva is.

Don’t deceive yourself, my conscience scolds. The Sith Lord can use the Holonet whenever he wants to. He just doesn’t want to spend his time recording messages for you. Or he might be still trying to decide what to do about what you said to him.

I tip my head and let myself relax enough to get a reading on Ani’s emotions. He’s calm today, reflective. Our bond resonates with the quiet, undisturbed state his mind is in. The Sith Lord must be meditating. Best to not bother him then, so I resume playing with Mikal.

Hours later Mikal is sleeping in the nursery, watched over by his guardians, and I am back in the observation room, sipping on millaflower tea and quietly waiting for the day to end. The days have started to blur together now that I have a regular routine I stick to. Will the weeks, months, and years merge into one long, grey memory as well? Am I condemned to remain alone, living out my life as the princess held prisoner in the tower? And there is no one to rescue me, no one who cares, no one who would dare interfere.

I let out a ragged breath and again promise myself that I won’t cry today. Not today. Not tomorrow. I will have to learn to be stronger than I have ever been in the past. Strong enough to protect my son from his own father if necessary. Strong enough to resist giving in. Strong enough to ...

To what? You are already the stubbornest, most ironed-willed person I have ever met, Ani comments.

I freeze where I am. That thought was very clear, almost as if...

I carefully turn my head to look behind me and jerk in surprise, spilling my tea everywhere when I see my husband standing there.

‘You are a sneak,’ I growl at him. ‘No, I take that back. You are worse than a sneak. At least when I try to ambush you I don’t end up scaring you half to death.’

He lets out a low chuckle at that.

‘That’s because you don’t hide your Force presence from me,’ he scolds. ‘Learn to do that as well as I can, and you might be able to creep up and pinch me without too much trouble.’

‘Not a chance,’ I retort. ‘You would probably flatten me if I did that.’

I sense him cringe a little at my choice of words. Sorry, Ani, but I am not going to let you avoid that particular topic.

‘If I didn’t know it was you, then yes, I probably would react that way,’Ani admits. ‘But since you are the only person who has an interest in grabbing my rear end, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.’

I turn back to face the window and busy myself with sopping up the spilt tea to try and cover-up my embarrassment and attempts to stop myself from giggling. Trust my husband to come out with that sort of reasoning. He moves in front of me next, settles himself on the rug and takes the cloth I had been using as a rag from my hands.

‘Don’t bother,’ he advises, ‘I never liked this carpet that much anyway.’

My eyes wander up from our hands to his mask and fix themselves on its lenses. If I had known he was going to show up today, I would have prepared something to say to him. As it is, I am at a loss for words.

Then don’t try to speak, just show me how you feel, Ani suggests.

I pick up his left hand in both of mine and hold it tight. Does he understand what he is asking me to do? The emotional damage he inflicted on me is still raw, painful, and I am not sure I can trust him yet. And this is going to hurt him, too, since he has his own new and barely healed wounds.

With a great deal of reluctance, I start the day before we left Vjun for the Executor, letting him feel how the day progressed for me until it culminated in those two terrible scenes in the evening. He experiences all of it with me - my frustration with his behaviour and attitude, the hurt from his cutting words, my pain when I realized I had lost my brother once again.

Ani doesn’t move or react.

I shift to the day the plague was released on Dentaal, the day he struck my face for the second, but not the last, time. Every beating I make him relive with me, let him see how it felt when each blow landed, try to make him understand that the worst of the damage he did was not the physical, visible harm.

Then the day at the refueling station. That day. The day I allowed myself to hate him. The day I made the only choice I had remaining to me - to leave before his rage and loss of control escalated to the point where he would hurt our son.

I drop Ani’s hand and wait.

***

I insist on reliving her memories with her, refusing to block out one second of it. It is a form of penance, a self-inflicted punishment for what I did to her.

When she remembers the beatings, I feel every blow land, feel her fear that it will never stop, her dread as she cringes in an attempt to get away, knowing that I will not let her avoid the next slap or punch. And each hit which connected chipped away at her soul, destroyed another part of her spirit, ate away at her love for me.

There is heartbreak on the day I forced her to touch me, to do the one sexual act she finds so uncomfortable she consistently refuses to do it. Her humiliation as I insisted she execute it, then pain when I beat her into doing it, is only eclipsed by what she felt when I punished her after I was unsatisfied with her performance.

My face burns with shame. These are not the actions of a loving husband, but of a monster.

Then the day I felt her hatred.

The day I decided to force her to submit.

The day I broke her completely.

And then I learn why she never fought back, why she wouldn’t, couldn’t fight back.

She knew that if she ever did, I would use our son to punish her.

She was willing to sacrifice herself to protect him from me.

I start to choke as the implications sink in.

I would have hurt my defenseless, innocent infant son.

And Maia knew that.

***

The Sith Lord doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move, doesn’t make a noise. Even his regulated breathing has grown silent. After a few more seconds, there is a horrid sounding inhalation as his body’s natural responses override his armour’s life support. Then a second breath like that. It takes several more of those for me to realize that he is close to completely losing control of himself and is choking in his attempts to stop that from happening.

There is nothing I can do to ease this for him. He has to face what he did to me and accept responsibility for it. And while Ani might not want to let the tears out, that is probably the one thing he really needs to do right now. I watch as he somehow makes it to his feet and walks unsteadily to the door. The Sith Lord pauses there long enough to lose some of his shakiness before disappearing from my sight.

A few minutes later, I feel the air pressurizing in his suite. I stay where I am and pour myself another cup of tea to calm my own ragged nerves. That encounter did not go at all as I would have expected or wanted it to. In a short period of time, he made both of us relive the very worst moments in our time together, and from my perspective, not his.

I carefully reach out to see how he is doing. The Sith Lord has retreated to his office and is sitting in there, on the couch, feeling completely miserable and rather sorry for himself. My poor Ani. While I have spent much of the last two months dealing with my emotional hurts and turmoil, my husband has obviously done little or nothing to cope with his own.

I hear an odd sound from Mikal. He’s awake and needs me to soothe him. My son is sensitive enough that he has reacted to his father’s distress. I go to the nursery, pick him up and settle myself in the rocking chair. With son in arms, I gently rock back and forth while I sing softly to him. Eventually he falls asleep again so I return him to the crib, myself to the chair, and sit there, watching him, my vigil only interrupted when he needs to be fed again.

***

I stagger across the observation room and stop in the doorway to steady myself. Maia stays where she is seated on the floor and watches me go. There are no harsh words or thoughts from her, only calm, quiet control.

Somehow I manage to make my way to my office, trigger the environmental controls and get my helmet off before the tears start. Salt water, I discovered the last time this happened, two and a half weeks ago, wreaks havoc with my vocoder.

I sense Maia’s gentle, careful touch on our bond. She’s checking on me, but doesn’t intrude on my privacy.

I can only be grateful to her for that.

A weeping Darth Vader is not a scene I want to share with anyone.

It takes quite a while to settle myself and bring my emotions under control.

I now have a decision to make.

Maia seems willing to give our marriage a second chance, but I know it won’t be easy to repair the damage I have done to our relationship. She no longer has any confidence in me and will probably never trust me with our son. At least her love for me seems to have survived, though I have done little in the last three months to deserve it.

I tip my head, listen to her light footsteps as she goes into the nursery to see to Mikal.

I want us to be a family, need to have her at my side.

Tomorrow I will ask her if we can start over again. And if she says yes, I will begin by acting as if we have just been introduced.

There will be no deceptions this time. No lies, no Force trickery, no manipulations.

I want to rebuild our marriage on a good, strong foundation - one which won’t collapse under misunderstandings and miscommunications.

I will gladly do whatever she decides is necessary to achieve that.

And if she wants me to let her go?

Even though it will break my heart, I will.

***

DAY 29

My senses wake me when Mikal wants his early morning meal. I toss the covers off and go to feed him before having a look through the suite to see what has happened to my husband.

I find the Sith Lord collapsed at his desk, head resting on the keyboard of the data terminal. While I decide what to do, I stand in the office’s entrance with one hand on the doorframe, and watch his peaceful face and slow, regulated breathing. Being careful not to wake him, I retrieve a blanket from the bedroom, drape it over him and go to the observation room with Mikal so I can think.

Setting my son on his blanket, I make myself a pot of stim tea, seat myself beside Mikal, and let my mind wander a little. Happy babbling draws me from my reflections.

‘Want your rattle, do you?’ I ask him.

His head turns in my direction, so I call the brightly colored rattle to my hand and hold it where Mikal can see it. Ani sent this toy in his first package and his son likes using it to make as much noise as possible. Mikal’s eyes track it as I move it close to his face. He finally reaches for it and I let his small fingers have what he wants. The room quickly fills with the sound of the rattle, and his happy giggles and squeals.

While he continues to make a racket, I pour myself a cup of tea to sip and let my son entertain me. From the day he was born, Mikal has been an easy baby to deal with - he rarely cries unless there is a reason to, and when he is awake, he is almost always happy and content. I hope he remains this way through childhood and beyond, but so much of that will depend on his father.

I tip my head and concentrate on Ani for a moment. He’s still asleep. Good. Mikal’s antics haven’t disturbed him and I can meditate until my husband does wake up.

And then what?

After last night, what am I going to say to him?

I set the tea aside and let out a sigh. The Sith Lord came very close to having an emotional breakdown last night. Maybe I should have gone to him instead of leaving him alone in his office, but I think privacy, at that moment, was more important to him than any comfort I could give. No, going in there when he wanted to be by himself might have only made matters worse.

Some things shouldn’t be shared he had once said. Perhaps refusing his request to feel what I had would have been the smart thing to do. He really didn’t need to experience that. Next time, I won’t give in and comply.

Hindsight, I must admit, will always point out your mistakes.

So, what am I going to do?

I could run away again, try to escape from him, but there is no point in even considering that as an option. He would chase after Mikal and I until he caught us again, and a life of constant hiding and fear is no way to raise a child. Nor is the virtual imprisonment he would impose on us after he did track us down.

We could live apart, strangers linked in spirit, yet separated by distance and our hurts. That might be best and safest for my son and I, but in the long term that is no real solution, either. Our minds and souls are bound too tightly together for that. Eventually we would be drawn back to one another again regardless of what we might want. The artificial bonds the Sith Lord created have ensured that we would have no choice in that.

I reach for my cup of tea again and grimace a little. Ani doesn’t know that Michael told me exactly what the Sith Lord had done to me. Some life-bond, I think with a snort. My mind might have grabbed onto his Force presence, but if Ani had left things alone, that probably would have faded, by itself, within days. By meddling, dragging part of my mind into his, he had turned a transient thing into a permanent one, with much of the repercussions of that on my end, not his. My death won’t affect him, yet his will kill me. I can feel every blow he suffers, see the results of it appear on my flesh, but the reciprocal effect does not occur. If it did, he would never have raised a hand to me.

Then there is the other bond. The Force-bond he built with my co-operation. My brother was right about that being a bad idea. The Sith Lord’s intention was to make sure my soul would share his fate, but another, more immediately useful, effect is that Ani can compel me to do whatever he wants to with it. All he has to do is pull the barriers out of my mind and the dark side, his Force presence, will overwhelm me. The mere threat of that is enough to ensure I would never oppose him.

Artificial bonds.

Connections deliberately established by the Sith Lord.

Ties that under normal circumstances could never exist. The two opposing sides of the Force would never allow permanent alliances of that sort between a Sith and a Jedi to develop on their own.

So why has Ani done it? To control me? To make sure I can never leave him? Or is there some other game he is playing which I have yet to see the board and pieces for?

My shiver threatens to spill the tea, so I set the cup down again. What I know of Sith history suggests that sooner or later, Ani will go after the Emperor. And my husband will need strong allies he can trust without question to do that. Does he intend to use me as a weapon he has complete control over? Am I his hidden ace?

I stare into my now half-empty cup and yank my mind back to my current, more immediate, problem and my possible paths for resolving it. Running away won’t work. Being separated is no long-term solution. Reconciling with him and living with the Sith Lord as his wife is something that his actions and words suggest Ani wants to do.

I will have to wait and hear what he has to say to me. If he is willing to start over again, then I will do my best to help him rebuild our relationship.

***

A blanket slides down my back to the floor when I sit up. Maia must have come in sometime early in the morning and covered me with it. I am surprised she did that. She had no reason to do it.

The screen reactivates at my touch. I can’t break the contract Maia signed, can’t undo either bond I forged with her, but I can give her some degree of freedom if that is what she wants. With a sigh, I print the agreement I drafted last night. She will be given enough of my fortune that she can do whatever she wishes, live where she pleases, go and see anything she wants. The only constraints are that she and my son are to be adequately guarded and I am the one who has official custody of him. Maia might balk at the second condition, but I need to protect Mikal from anyone who might take advantage of his mother.

I set the heavy paper document aside and prepare myself for the worst. She has every reason to refuse to have anything more to do with me. Every reason to demand I go away and let her live her life in peace.

But living apart and alone wouldn’t last for long. We are soul-bonded. Sooner or later, that will pull her back to me, despite anything she might do to fight against it.

It would be best and simplest if she asked for a reconciliation.

I leave the paper on the desk and go to the observation room. She won’t learn of that option unless it becomes necessary to use it.

***

I hear Ani’s footsteps approach. He halts near the door, pauses, then continues, stopping once he is standing directly behind me. Fabric rustles as he sits down on the floor.

For a few minutes, he says nothing, so I shift myself, turning to face him. Ani, I find, is quietly watching Mikal’s antics. His eyes meet mine.

Neither of us says a single word.

I decide to be the one to break the silence.

‘I have spent a long time trying to make up my mind about what to do,’ I tell him.

He shifts a hair, no doubt uneasy about what he anticipates hearing from me.

‘You are probably thinking I am going to demand my freedom, and insist on walking away from our marriage with half your estate and our son,’ I shrewdly guess.

For a second, there is sense of heartbreak and pain from him. I was right, then. He thought he might hear that but doesn’t want it.

‘I won’t drag this out,’ I warn him, ‘I expect a decision from you within a reasonable length of time.’

‘A decision?’ Ani finally asks me something.

‘Yes, Ani, a decision,’ I firmly state. ‘You need to decide if you are really willing to do what is necessary to save our marriage.’

Surprise lights his eyes. And relief.

‘I will do whatever you want me to,’ he quietly concedes.

‘Very well, then, here are the rules,’ I start, hesitating a moment to give him a chance to protest.

Ani says nothing.

‘I expect you to be completely honest with me about our marriage and about us. No more of your convenient lies. No more messing about with my memories to cover things up. There is no point in trying to rebuild our relationship if it will only fall apart again.’

A nod in answer. That was the easy bit. Now for the hard stuff.

‘I don’t trust you with our son,’ I warn. ‘I know you would have hurt him if I hadn’t left and taken him with me. You will leave Mikal’s care to me. He is my concern.’

Ani’s eyes return to Mikal. Something flickers across our bond. There are shades of old pain, perhaps remorse or guilt even?

‘I won’t share a bed or be intimate with you,’ I decide. ‘When that happens again, if it ever happens again, it will be at my invitation only. And I refuse to put up with any abuse from you. If you ever do that again, I will leave you immediately and permanently.’

Another nod. Good. Ani understands the ground rules.

Now what?

‘I don’t believe we have ever been properly introduced,’ the Sith Lord says.

Puzzled, I stare at him, wondering what he is up to.

‘In public, my Lady, you will have to address me as Lord Vader,’ he continues, ‘but in private I would prefer that you call me Anakin.’

He’s acting as if we have never met before, as if the last year didn’t exist. I don’t want him to get away with brushing aside everything he did, but for now, I will play along.

We have to start somewhere, after all, now don’t we?

‘Maia,’ I tell him. ‘You may call me Maia...’

Part 2

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