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The Sith Lord and the Scientist Section E - Part 10

The Executor, Hyperspace Transfer Point, Ansion System, Year 4, Month 4.

DAY 20

I awake with a startled jolt, reach across the bed, and discover that Anakin is not beside me. Jamie stirs at my movements and stretches out by my feet before he assumes his usual sphinx pose and stares at me in his typical, accusatory feline fashion. He did not appreciate having his sleep disturbed. Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I lean against the wall and bury my face in my hands. The nasty dream I was caught in, which prompted my husband to wake me telepathically, has left me upset and shaken.

Anakin… I call to him

You were having a nightmare, he promptly answers me before I can ask.

Where… I start but he doesn’t let me finish that thought.

In my office, waiting for the Executor to reach the transfer point, so that I will be able to speak to Thrawn over the Chiss deep space relay system, he reveals. Do you need me?

If he is already dressed in his armour and in his office, it must be important, and I know that he has been worrying about Thrawn’s diplomatic mission ever since the Grand Admiral left Coruscant a month ago. During the Clone Wars, the Chiss stayed neutral, refusing to become involved, but Thrawn is convinced he can persuade his people to at the very least sign a non-aggression and mutual defense pact. Anakin needs to find out what is happening with the treaty negotiations before the Executor makes its next hyperspace jump. He can come back here and fuss over me once that call to his Admiral is finished.

No, I will be fine, I opt to let him see to Thrawn first. While you do that, I will go have an early morning soak.

Thrawn can wait a moment, he decides.

I look up at the sound of the door opening. The Sith Lord has returned, and for him to be here so quickly, he must have headed back to me as soon as I called out to him. Without any hesitation, I throw the bed covers off myself and run to him, knowing that there is safety in his arms.

‘It must have been a bad one,’ he observes when I hide my face in his surcoat and cling to him with my fingers. ‘You are still shaking from it.’

I nod my head against his chest in confirmation. This wasn’t one of my old nightmares, but a new one where we were trapped, with the ship under attack, and no prospect of escape or rescue. My nightmares always occur early in the morning, and on an almost daily basis. Usually they are of the assassination attempt I was caught in, or of Xizor and what he did to me. This new one is probably the result of my anxiety and fears, and connected to the invasion Anakin had predicted and my brother confirmed is coming.

‘Make it go away, Anakin, please,’ I ask of him.

A hand cups my jaw and the fingers of his other one swirl gentle patterns on my cheek as he speaks in an ancient rhythmic chant. He is using Sith magic, tracing it onto my skin, and allowing it to erase the memory of what I just dreamt. It is far faster and easier for him to do this than to go looking in my mind for what he needs to find and hide from me.

‘Gone, now,’ my husband reassures me.

I let out a sigh and relax as the last remnants of that terrible dream fade away into nothingness. At the moment, I am grateful that my husband has figured out how to quickly remove what I have dreamt if he doesn’t wake me up before it starts.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper to him.

‘I want you to sleep some more,’ he tells me. ‘You have been ill with pregnancy sickness the past week and need to rest.’

His hand slides down to my middle, to my stomach, to lie above our third son. Beneath his fingers, our son moves as his father checks on him with the Force, producing a fluttering feeling within me. I entwine my fingers amoung Anakin’s and lightly squeeze his hand. It’s been three Imperial months since our son was conceived, and in just over three and a half more, Leanan intends to remove him from me.

‘He is rather busy,’ Anakin observes. ‘Leanan said he would start to become more active during this trip.’

‘Whenever you do that, he reacts, just like his siblings always did,’ I tell him.

My husband’s hands move to circle my face, and he tips it up so he can look down into it.

‘You need to rest,’ he firmly repeats.

I glance over at Ani, who is still sleeping soundly in his cradle. If I feed him now, he shouldn’t be up for another few hours. Anakin sees where I am looking and steps away from me.

‘Into our bed and I will bring him to you,’ the Sith Lord orders. ‘As I have already promised, the rest of my day is yours, after I speak with Thrawn and Luke. Once that is done, I will come back to you.’

Rather than argue with him, I do as I am told.

***

I wake my namesake with a gentle touch and lift him into my arms. He yawns and blinks at me, but there are no cries of protest at having his sleep interrupted. His mother accepts him from my hands, settles him against her breast, and the sounds of an infant’s eager nursing fill the bedroom. While he has his early morning meal, I sit beside my wife and watch them both. Maia shifts him from one breast to the other and offers Ani to me once he is finished. Both are soon sleeping once more, Ani in his cradle and my wife in our bed, the Loth-cat curled up at her feet.

I slip away at that point, knowing that none of them should wake until my return, but before I go back to my office, I pause in the Executor’s throne room and consider the three empty suites across from my own. Luke is on Coruscant, charged with managing the Empire’s daily routine and guarding his sister and Liora. Leia’s pregnancy is making her ill and cranky, and rather than bring her with us and endure her moodiness, I left her behind. Liora is still adjusting to her new life and position as my wife, and is not ready for the public exposure this mission entails. It feels like old times, when it was just Maia and our children I had on board with me, and I intend to enjoy the peace and relative quiet of having one wife, not three, to worry about.

The swirls of hyperspace behind the thrones resolve in the distance into the blue seas, light brown plains, and green forests of the small, back water world of Ansion. I remember my first visit to this planet, on a mission as a padawan with Obi-Wan. The place had little to recommend it to me then, and has even less to interest me now. I activate the Holonet station beside my command chair, adjust it to tap into the Chiss relay system, and wait for Thrawn to respond to my signal. No one will enter this room without my permission and Maia and our children are sleeping soundly, so there is no pressing need to go to my office.

‘My Emperor,’ Thrawn greets me at last.

‘Grand Admiral,’ I respond. ‘I trust that your mission is progressing as anticipated?’

‘As well as can be expected, my Lord,’ he replies. ‘You will be met at Brask Oto Station and escorted to Csilla from there. Only your flagship will be allowed past the fringe, but I assure you that the Defense Fleet is more than capable of protecting you.’

Thrawn leaves unsaid what I already know - that enough ships will be accompanying the Executor to overpower and destroy her if I make any aggressive moves. This is no more than I expected from the wary Chiss leadership.

‘What of the rest of my fleet?’ I ask.

‘It shall remain at the station until your return,’ he smoothly answers, ‘and I will transmit the jump co-ordinates, momentarily.’

This is something I had also predicted and discussed with Thrawn beforehand; however, my ships will be safe. Piett will remain behind with them, under strict orders to not do anything which could be msinterpreted as an attack. As long as the Chiss are not provoked, they will not respond with force. Their laws and traditions forbid them from being the first to strike.

‘And the other matter?’ I raise the third issue we must deal with.

There is a significant pause before he answers me. Obviously not all has gone according to plan.

‘Is best discussed in person and in private,’ he defers it to the future, ‘after you arrive, once the official greetings are finished.’

I decide to not push that particular issue too hard. His circumspect response indicates that he suspects our communication is being monitored at his end or somewhere along the relay system, and cannot be considered secure.

‘Then there is much to look forward to,’ I mildly agree, before using one of our prearranged code phrases. ‘The Empress is most curious about your homeworld, Admiral.’

‘The Empress will find it unlike any she has visited,’ Thrawn replies smoothly, without any noticeable pause. ‘It has not been an easy planet for my people to adapt to living on.’

Translation: there is some opposition to what I have proposed. I narrow my eyes in frustration. That is not the response I needed or wanted to hear.

‘Perhaps a tour of the more interesting locations could be organised for her,’ I suggest.

‘I am certain that they can be secured to your satisfaction,’ he clarifies his previous statement.

Their resistance can be overcome, in his opinion.

‘What sights would you recommend?’ I prod him for more.

‘The blue glaciers, perhaps, or the volcanic hotsprings, or the caves,’ Thrawn lists in code form those Ruling families who are in agreement, omitting references to the ones who are opposed.

‘My senior wife will appreciate a tour of the local geology,’ I change how I refer to Maia, indicating that I understand where the difficulties lie. ‘She enjoys collecting rare minerals.’

‘That can easily be arranged, my Lord,’ he agrees. ‘For now, the co-ordinates you require.’

‘Received,’ I acknowledge the arrival of the necessary data. ‘In two days, Grand Admiral.’

‘My Emperor,’ Thrawn signs off before the signal terminates.

I reset the controls, step onto the platform, and activate the Holonet a second time, the recipient of my next call being my son on Coruscant, who should be waiting for me to contact him.

‘Father,’ Luke immediately answers as his image appears in front of me.

‘Son,’ I reply. ‘I hope that all is well. We will be making the jump to the edge of Chiss space in a few minutes.’

‘There is not much to report,’ he confirms my suspicions. ‘The bureaucrats are better at handling what needs to be done than I am.’

‘And my wives?’ I ask out of politeness.

‘Leia was sick again today and and Liora is keeping her company,’ Luke answers,’ but both wanted me to tell you that they are doing well and you should not worry about them.’

I can sense that something is bothering him.

‘Is there anything I should be concerned with?’ I prod.

‘Aphra has been exploring the lower levels of the palace and I think she is looking for something,’ he admits.’ I told her she would be confined to her quarters if she persisted in poking around where she was not authorized to be.’

‘I knew she would do that as soon as she had the opportunity. Anything of true value is beyond her ability to access,’ I reveal, with some amusement. ‘If you are worried, ask Thirst to set a watch on her. She will find it rather difficult to sneak around him and the Noghri. Aphra is not as clever as she thinks she is.’

‘Father…’ Luke starts then hesitates.

‘Yes, son?’ I ask. ‘What is it?’

Something else is troubling him beyond Aphra’s clandestine explorations.

‘I should have come with you,’ he states.

‘No, Luke, I need you to remain on Coruscant,’ I remind him of my reasons for leaving him behind. ‘Having Maia and our children with me is providing enough of a target to my enemies. Adding my heir would only increase the risk to all of us. You must stay there to protect Leia and Liora.’

We had this discussion before I left and I do not intend to change my decision.

‘I don’t like that they insisted you go there in person,’ Luke admits. ‘I just have a bad feeling about it.’

‘Then you should be more careful what you eat for breakfast,’ I tease him.

He doesn’t try to hide the smile my attempt at diverting him has prompted.

‘Luke, follow my instructions and all will go as planned,’ I advise him. ‘I am not going to take any unnecessary or foolish risks - not when Maia is with me and not when we need this treaty.’

There is a sigh and nod in defeat from him. My son does not like the situation, but he will do as I have ordered.

‘May the Force be with you, father,’ he signs off.

‘And you as well, my son,’ I let him go.

I reach down and with a touch to the Holonet controls, send the instructions for reaching Brask Oto Station to Piett on the command deck.

Luke’s unease is well founded. The Chiss are an unknown player in the broad holochess game of galactic politics and power. Thrawn is the only one of them I know well, and he has kept silent, for the most part, on his people and their sphere of influence. Insular and secretive are an apt description for them all.

***

The Executor, Brask Oto Station, Chiss Ascendancy, Year 4, Month 4.

DAY 21

I smile at Anakin as he settles himself in a chair and watches Mikal and the twins, all of whom are busy colouring. Yesterday, our eldest insisted on giving his father a picture he had drawn of the Sith Lord, and Anakin promptly put it in a prominent place on the wall of his private office. My birthday present to him was less artistic. To keep myself occupied during the past few weeks, I made him several pairs of gloves from the same firehead leather I had used for his body suit. There was just enough left from my previous projects to finish those gauntlets without having to ask Nilsa to send more to me from Rhinnal.

A gloved hand reaches over, takes mine, and lifts both to rest over his heart. Soon, he will leave for the command deck, to meet the Chiss officer who will be staying on board until the Executor reaches Csilla.

‘My lady love,’ Anakin teases me.

‘My gallant lord,’ I return in kind.

‘On Csilla, we cannot play the game in public, nor where we might be seen and overheard,’ he reminds me.

‘I know,’ I reply. ‘The Chiss would probably find it rather strange, given how reserved they are reputed to be.’

My husband’s fingers lightly squeeze mine.

‘I do not care what the Chiss think of how I feel for you, but in this instance, caution is wiser,’ he admits. ‘In private and in thought, we shall do as we please.’

Anakin turns slightly, and moves his free hand to rest over our third son.

‘He is restless again,’ he notes. ‘Shall I quiet him for you?’

‘Post-meal exercises,’ I observe. ‘At least he is still too small to kick hard.’

He uses the Force, soothing our son, so I let out a quiet sigh and allow myself to relax at his touch. Once we reach Csilla, Anakin will be busy with whatever remains to be negotiated. My job will be to tell him what he needs to know during those meetings - whether the Chiss are being honest or not, and what their emotional states are. It will be very difficult for them to conceal any of that from me.  My other duty is to be on his arm and at his side at whatever ceremonies he must attend. Thankfully, Thrawn went over Chiss protocol before he left, so hopefully all will go well.

‘Daddy!’ Shmi bursts out.

She makes her way over to her father and presses her latest masterpiece into his hands.

‘That is …’ Anakin pauses, obviously thinking of how to describe it as he examines the odd figure on the paper, ‘… most colourful, ‘Mi. Thank you.’

Our youngest daughter quickly returns to the coloured pencils scattered across the floor and begins creating another picture. My husband rotates the page then shows it to me.

‘I think it is meant to be the cat,’ he decides.

As if on cue, Jamie saunters into the room, lets out a rather loud meow and flops himself on the floor beside Mikal. My eldest son absent mindedly pats the Loth-cat’s head, but ignores my pet until Jamie begins playfully grabbing at the pencils he is using.

‘Those are mine,’ Mikal protests. ‘Go away.’

‘Meowrompmf!’ Jamie lets out a complaint when Mikal tries to push him away.

I reach down next to my ankle and wiggle my fingers to attract Jamie’s attention. The cat’s ears perk up then flatten as he crouches down and prepares to pounce. He jumps through the air towards me, but I pull my hand away before he can make contact with it.

‘You, cat, are a nuisance,’ Anakin states once I have picked Jamie up and settled him on my lap.

‘He is still a kitten,’ I remind him, ‘and he only wants to play.’

Jamie rolls onto his side and starts to purr, so I scratch his head.

‘In another month, at the rate he is growing, he won’t fit on my lap,’ I observe. ‘Domestic cats at home don’t grow that big.’

A quiet chime rings through our quarters, the ten minute reminder to the Sith Lord that the Executor is about to exit hyperspace.

‘The larger he is, the better a protector he will be for you,’ my husband states. ‘Loth-cats are rarely kept as household pets. They tend to be too independent minded for that, but he has imprinted on you and will guard and defend you as his own.’

He reaches over and gives Jamie a single pat on the head. The two of them are still jostling for position in their ongoing battle for who is the boss, but I expect Anakin will eventually win that contest. My husband’s gloved hand moves to my face.

‘I want you to rest today,’ he tells me as his fingers brush down my cheek. ‘On Csilla, our schedule will be rather full, and you are still recovering from a concussion.’

I don’t bother teasing him about his fussing. In this case, he is right to be concerned.

‘I will lie down and sleep, once the children are having their afternoon naps,’ I promise him.

***

I stare out the front viewports at Brask Oto Command Station, comparing it with other such installations I have visited. Unlike the ring-shaped Wheel or globular Sorca, or most such command and control facilities in the Empire, it is octahedral in shape and metallic white in colour. For a moment, I ponder its design, wondering just how much those sharp angles and precise planes reflect Chiss philosophy and thought.

The minutes stretch out.

Clasping my hands behind my back, I shift into a resting stance and wait, patiently, for the Chiss officer to arrive. Perhaps I should have gone to greet him in the hangar, but proper etiquette must be followed: amoung the Chiss, the inferior goes to the superior.

‘My Lord,’ I hear Piett approach me.

‘Yes, Grand Admiral?’ I acknowledge him without moving from my place or turning to face him.

‘Shall I comm for a protocol droid to translate for you?’ he asks.

There is no reason to reveal that I already have a basic understanding of Cheunh, a product of my many years of working with Thrawn, or that I am fluent in Sy Bisti, having acquired that knowledge as a Jedi. I may need these advantages in the upcoming days.

‘Unnecessary,’ I decide. ‘They will send someone who is competent in Basic, if for no other reason than to spy on us.’

‘Grand Admiral,’ the Lieutenant posted at the internal comm-station calls Piett aside.

I don’t react to the interruption. The incoming comm-call is merely a brief courtesy message from the hangar indicating that the shuttle from the station has arrived and our Chiss guest is now being escorted from there to here. Instead of commenting on that, I brush against my wife’s mind, checking to see if she has followed my suggestion to rest. Maia is sleeping peacefully, so I leave her be. She will meet our visitor, later.

I am still contemplating Brask Oto Station when I hear the Chiss officer and his aide arrive on the command deck. Before they approach me, I pay close attention to their brief, whispered conversation in Sy Bisti.  

‘Amlewalo songeyithimbe?’ asks a young woman, sounding more uncertain than afraid.

My silent translation is instantaneous: Commander, can we trust them?

‘Esoneyu okhithu fatho sozukwinze amsibinzo witha,’ an older male firmly responds.

We have no choice and will perform our duty.

I ponder his words for a moment, how he emphasized choice and duty. There is something familiar in his voice, in what he said and how he said it, but my thoughts are soon pulled away from my analysis of what I have overheard.

‘My Emperor, Lord Vader,’ Piett begins the formal introductions. ‘Commander Kres’kali’cspalla and his aide-de-camp, Prard’ari’aklaio, have arrived.’

His careful pronunciation of the Chiss names prompts me to smile. He must have rehearsed that to avoid making too many mistakes and offending them as a result.

I turn away from the transparisteel viewport to face my two guests, examining each one carefully in turn. Both are wearing the standard black uniforms of the Chiss Defense Fleet, with their House affiliations indicated on their shoulders and rank flashes on their collars. They are also armed, but I can see that their blasters have been secured within their holsters. The senior of the two is standing closer to me, his familiar face completely calm, and black hair now silvered with age. His aide is female and considerably younger. Even without Maia’s empathic ability, I can sense her nervousness.

‘Crahsystor Kres’kali’cspalla,’ I address him with his Chiss title, although I suspect that his true rank is considerably higher than when I first met him many years ago.

‘Darth Vader,’ he responds in kind with my Sith one.

Piett stiffens at what he interprets as rudeness.

‘I do not insist on ceremony on my flagship’s Bridge,’ I remind my Grand Admiral, without singling him out. ‘It is a pointless waste of my time.’

‘If we are to be informal,’ the male Chiss replies, ‘then you may use my core name, Skalic.’

His aide’s apprehension spikes. Something is important about the name he has chosen as an alias.

‘Very well, Commander Skalic,’ I agree. ‘Informal it shall be until we reach Csilla.’

Her eyes dart between him and I.

‘Lord Vader, my personal assistant, whom you may call Daria,’ Skalic introduces her to me.

I hook my thumbs behind the control boxes on my belt and tip my head slightly to put her more at ease by appearing relaxed myself. It is not just where she is and who I am that has unnerved her. Something else is at play here, and it must involve Skalic’s true identity.

The Executor’s Captain approaches us.

‘My Emperor, our Chiss escorts are in position,’ Kallic states, ‘and Grand Admiral, sir, your shuttle is ready to depart.’

‘Go, Grand Admiral Piett,’ I dimiss him. ‘The Accuser awaits you.’

Piett immediately nods and he wastes no time in leaving the bridge. Once his shuttle has rendezvoused with his temporary flagship, there will be no reason for me to linger here.

‘Captain Kallic,’ I give another set of orders, ‘co-ordinate the jump to Csilla with the Chiss fleet, and see to it that our guests are shown to their quarters.’ To Skalic I add, ‘We can continue our conversation later, after dinner.’

As the Commander and his aide are led away, my eyes follow Daria’s retreating form. Her odd reactions intrigue me, but investigating further will have to wait.

***

A kiss, firmly pressed against my temple, wakes me up.

‘Anakin,’ I murmur my husband’s name.

His lips brush mine before he straightens from bending over me.

‘We will have two Chiss guests to entertain at dinner,’ he announces.

I don’t bother grumbling at him. He obviously wants to see what information he can extract from them, and they are more likely to be relaxed and less guarded during a meal than in a formal meeting.

‘Where?’ I ask.

‘Conference room next to the Senior Officer’s mess,’ he informs me. ‘Cyran has made the arrangements for the meal and musical entertainment, so you do not need to worry about those.’

‘You came back for an early dinner, yourself,’ I observe.

‘And to spend some time with you,’ Anakin reveals as he shifts me over in the bed and sits beside me.

His hand finds mine so I lightly squeeze it.

‘Are you certain that you are ready for what I need you to do once we reach Csilla?’ he raises that question.

He knows that I don’t like using my empathy unless I have no other choice.

‘I would really prefer not to do it,’ I admit.

This time, his hand is the one to squeeze mine.

‘I need to know what the Chiss intend to do,’ he reminds me. ‘Tonight, you can practice. A little nudge or two to make them more open to telling me their plans is all that I require from you.’

‘That is a dishonest thing to ask of me,’ I tell him.

Anakin’s face dips closer to mine.

‘I would not ask it of you if I had any other option,’ he states, ‘and I am certain the Chiss would do exactly the same were our positions reversed.’

His even breaths warm my skin as he looks into my eyes and smiles at me. When his mouth contacts mine, I don’t resist and let him kiss me, but if Anakin thinks bribery of this type is going to work on me, my husband will find that he is badly mistaken. There are certain principles I will not budge from. I break off our kiss and push myself up into a sitting position.

‘No,’ I firmly refuse him. ‘I will tell you what they are feeling and if they are being honest or deceitful, but I will not manipulate them for you.’

‘Stubborn Jedi wife,’ Anakin teases me, but despite keeping it away from our bond, he cannot hide the quick flash of anger I see in his eyes.

Defying him always comes with a price, and I cannot help wondering what my refusal will cost me.

***

I lead Maia to the table and wait for her to be comfortably seated before I assume my place beside her. That produces a ripple effect as those in attendance take their own chairs. To make it easier to speak to him, I had Skalic assigned to sit beside me, while his aide is next to my wife. Behind her, acting as guards, are Commander Esteen and my Hand, Mara Jade, both in the dark grey gowns which mark them as her handmaidens.

‘My Empress, Maia,’ I introduce her to the two Chiss.

‘Crahsystor Kres’kali’cspalla, Prard’ari’aklaio,’ she greets them in flawless Cheunh.

Skalic raises an eyebrow and Daria is barely able to hide her surprise.

‘You’ve been practicing,’ I note the obvious.

‘A little, my lord,’ Maia admits. ‘No one likes to hear their name mispronounced.’

That observation prompts a smile from Skalic.

‘It is difficult for one not born a Chiss to master Cheunh,’ he states, ‘but a suitable tutor can be arranged for you, if you intend to pursue a serious study of it.’

‘Thank you,’ Maia accepts his offer. ‘I would appreciate that.’

I sense Skalic relax and see the rigid formality Daria had been observing gradually fade. All through the meal, both of them slip various words in Cheunh into the conversation, making sure Maia knows what they are referring to as they do so. My wife’s genuine interest in learning their language has been more successful at putting them at ease than anything I might have tried. A smile tugs at my mouth. She claimed she would be a disaster as a diplomat, but her empathy lets her connect with people at a level she is not consciously aware of.

‘Commander Skalic, a few words in private,’ I suggest after dinner is finished.

He said nothing of importance during the meal and deliberately restricted his topics of choice to the geography and geology of Csilla, outline of Chiss history, and basics of Cheunh. Those may have been educational from a cultural perspective, and piqued my wife’s scientific curiosity, but were of little use to me militarily or politically, which was probably his intention.

No one moves from their place until I have left my chair and walked away from the table to the viewports, the Chiss Commander at my side.

‘I trust you have made your evaluations and are satisfied,’ I state, once we are well away from the others in the room, ‘and will drop this pointless charade.’

‘It is merely a necessary precaution to confirm your identities, as you well know,’ he replies. ‘There was the possibility that you would send substitutes rather than risk the journey yourselves.’

I point my finger at his chest and let out a low growl.

‘I have no fear of risking myself,’ I snap at him, ‘but if any harm comes to her…’

‘Anakin,’ he uses my old name, ‘it has been more than twenty years since I fought at your side, but do give me some credit. I would never risk your wife’s safety or that of your children - on that you have my personal guarantee.’

‘That name is never to be spoken,’ I warn him, waving a finger in his face.

‘Nor is the one you once knew me by,’ Skalic responds in kind. ‘I am no longer that insignificant soldier, but the Aristocra of House Kres.’

***

I cannot hear what is being said because of the music which is playing in the background, but everyone in the room can see that Anakin and Skalic are in the midst of what must be a heated argument. My husband is making no attempt to hide his anger as he points a finger at the Commander, waves it in the Chiss’ face, and crosses his arms over his chest.

Anakin? I decide to risk interrupting him before he can escalate their disagreement further.

He ignores me.

Starting a fight with Skalic is a bad idea, especially when he needs to negotiate a treaty. In desperation, I try to think of how I can create a diversion and distract both of them without creating too much of a scene. Before I can fake a convincing fainting spell, the music changes and a piece by Handel begins to play.

I take a deep breath. This is from Rinaldo, but early in that opera, before Almirena is kidnapped. There is about a minute of prelude before the section with her aria, but this arrangement is not really designed to accompany a singer since her part is taken by the instruments. Do your best, I chide myself. At least it is short, so I should be able to finish it - if Anakin lets me make it that far.

Closing my eyes to shore up my courage, I open my mouth and sing the first note as quietly as I can, slowly increasing the volume until I know that those nearest to me can hear it. Their conversations cease as I continue, but it takes over a minute for Skalic to turn and look at me. My husband spins around, raises his hand and points a finger at me, shaking it to show his annoyance at my disobedience of his order to never to sing in public.

I don’t let him intimidate me into silence.

After his silent scolding proves ineffective, Anakin quickly walks towards me, but at least I am able to properly finish that brief aria before he makes it to me. He waits for the applause of the others to end before setting his hands on his hips and staring at me.

‘Escort the Empress to my quarters,’ he orders.

We will discuss this later, he tells me.

I don’t say anything as I leave the room, two handmaidens in tow behind me.

***

I rest my hands on the arms of my throne and stare into hyperspace, out through the transparisteel viewports in front of me. Twice, today, Maia has disobeyed and defied me, but I cannot bring myself to punish her for it, not when what she did was for my benefit. Choosing to leave her be, I slide into a meditation instead, letting myself sense the Force within me.

The first of my observations comes as a not entirely unexpected surprise. My once corrupted, distorted Force signature, which was almost completely consumed by ink-black darkness, is now a mixture of dark, grey, and light. I follow the brightest threads to where the soul bond with my wife is anchored in my psyche. Some, but not all, of those stem from my feelings for her, and they are now so integral to myself that removing any of them is impossible, not that I could ever harm her by ripping them out in such a manner. Between us, I see the bonds we share, the soul bond and the Force bond, one bright, from her to me, the other dark, from me to her. Curious, I trace the Force bond to her, only to discover that the darker aspects of myself have entwined and rooted themselves within her, but only enough to secure the bond due to the barriers I had put in place years ago to protect her.

I pull my mind away from hers and shift my attention to our children. All are sleeping, their presences peaceful, blank templates. Mikal stirs at my touch, so I soothe him. His shields are strong, for a child of his age, and I should spend more of my time training him. The twins are candles to his brightness, but little Ani outshines them all. He will be much like his father, I decide, wondering if my wife’s choice to name him for me is an omen.

I wander further afield, noting Jade’s conflicted loyalties and her struggle to resolve them. She suspects my involvement in Palpatine’s death but cannot prove it, and the now broken telepathic link she had with him torments her. Mara once resented being forced to work with me by our former master, and saw me as a rival. Yet, rather than flee to the relative safety of the Outer Rim or forfeit her life by refusing to serve me, she has yielded to my authority and accepted her role as my Hand.

Mara Jade, I project her name at her in a thought.

She flinches away at my telepathic touch.

I know you can hear me, I prod at her.

Master, she finally replies.

Your opinion of the Chiss? I ask.

I do not trust them, she admits. Skalic is hiding something and so is Daria.

All of us have secrets to hide, I remind her. Your job will be to keep my Empress secure while you tease out what Daria’s are, but my wife’s safety must always take priority. Leave Skalic to me. If necessary, I will deal with him myself.

Yes, master, she agrees.

I push slightly harder at her mind, again offering to her a stronger connection between us, an overture from me that she had previously rejected. Having a reliable telepathic link will make working together much easier. Mara resists for a moment then, instead of putting up a fight she will inevitably lose, she gives in, and I feel a sharp snap as the link between us is established. Her disorientation and shock are palpable, but she should recover from those fairly quickly.

Better, I tell her. You should have let me do that before. For now, rest, my Hand. I will have no need of you again until we reach Csilla.

I let her withdraw into privacy and pull myself out of my meditation.

Jade is here for two reasons: to prove her loyalty to me and to allow me to evaluate her as a potential mate for Luke. He needs a wife who is strong in the Force and capable of protecting him and their children. I have few suitable candidates to choose from, and Mara is a reasonable compromise. The problem will be convincing her and my son that this is a match that they want as well because neither of them has shown any interest in the other. If she passes the tests I give her, I will send them on a mission of some sort. Perhaps Luke should be my envoy to the Corporate Sector and Mara can act as his bodyguard. Making them work together in close quarters should do the trick. Given their strong personalities, they will either hate one another immediately or be attracted to each other instantly.

I push myself out of the throne and make my way to my bedroom. Once there, I remove my cloak and drape it over the back of a chair, and pull off my gauntlets and drop them on its seat. Maia is sleeping peacefully, the Loth-cat at her feet, as usual. The beast looks up at me and yawns, but does not move as I approach her. I brush her cheek lightly with my hand, note the roughness I feel upon it, and bring my hand to my mouth to confirm my suspicion, to taste the salty remnants of her dried tears. She must have been expecting me to punish her, hid that from me, and cried herself to sleep in anticipation and fear of what I might do to her.

I frown at that discovery.

‘Little goddess,’ I softly say to her. ‘Why would I punish you for doing what was needed to stop my own folly? Even I am not so great a fool as to do that.’

My wife stirs in her sleep so I know that at some level she has heard me.

It is very late, and I do not want to strip off my armour when I will only have to replace it in a few hours. I fold back the blankets and sheets, settle myself next to Maia, and roll her over and into my arms. She nestles into my chest, burying her face in the fabric of my surcoat, clinging to it, to me, with her fingers. From experience, I know her desperate need to keep me near is a harbinger of one of her nightmares.

‘It’s alright, my love,’ I soothe her. ‘I am here and I will protect you.’

I hold her close and touch her mind, choosing to share an old memory of mine with her. As we both relive that trip to Anchoron, those few hours I spent at a lake quietly fishing, I feel her slowly relax against my chest. Wondering what she sees, I let our bond pull us together, and discover that in her dream she is sitting next to me on that wharf, her head resting on my shoulder and bare feet dangling over the edge beside mine into the warm water below us. Maia stirs the water with her toes, scaring away the fish until I kiss her cheek to distract her. My dream-self wraps an arm around her waist and holds her tight as I mirror that action in reality. She sighs happily at my touch and says my name. Rather than interrupt what we are sharing, I allow myself to be drawn into it completely, pleased that I have found a simple and useful way to short circuit her nightmares without waking her, and for the moment, completely content to remain there, in our mutual dream, with her.

***

Csaplar, Csilla, Chiss Ascendancy, Year 4, Month 4.

DAY 22

The shuttle descends slowly, dropping beneath the clouds, and through the front viewports, I can see blue glaciers, white snow, and dark brown mountains poking through both of those. From orbit, Csilla looked the same as it does up close, its surface dominated by the features of the ice age it is gripped in. It reminds me of Hoth with considerably more blue added to the colour palette. As we continue to lose altitude, what little can be seen of the Chiss capital quickly comes into view. Much of their cities are underground or below the ice, but many of their space ports, out of necessity, must be above their living spaces.

Rik sets the shuttle down gently on the landing platform and glances back at me, winking at Mikal as he does that just to make my son laugh. His co-pilot at the moment is Jix and I cannot figure out why Anakin assigned that duty to him. Jix is hopeless at flying anything, so my husband must intend for him to be on my security detail, at least outwardly. Covertly, I suspect the two of them are up to something.

I carefully stretch my legs to avoid kicking anyone. There is not much space to move inside the shuttle with the various trunks holding my wardrobe, and all the people and droids packed in here. With myself, Mikal, little Ani, Cyran, four Noghri, and Mara Jade and Shevan Esteen, both acting as my handmaidens for this trip, there was no room left on the floor for Jamie, who is curled up on my lap instead. I stay in my seat until Mara and Shevan make their way down the landing ramp. Their dark grey robes and cloaks stand out against the white of the snow, and I know my black cloak and gown will do the same. Cradling Jamie to my chest, I slowly stand up and follow them. Cyran is next, holding Mikal’s hand in one of hers and carrying Ani in his basket in her other. The twins remained on the Executor, under Daini’s care, at their father’s insistence, rather than accompany us. Rik and Jix, trailing after the Noghri, are the last to exit the shuttle. The droids and trunks will be moved to our accommodations later.

Anakin arrived earlier, in his own shuttle, with a group of Royal Guards and his own personal aides. He is waiting for me when I step off the ramp onto the landing platform, his blue armoured guards lined up behind him. Surrounding all of us are black uniformed members of the Chiss military, forming an obvious pathway that we must take to the nearby building.

‘My Empress,’ Anakin greets me.

‘My Lord,’ I reply in kind.

I lower Jamie to the durasteel deck at my feet, confident that he won’t stray too far from my side because he has a habit of sticking to me like a shadow. He lets out a hiss of protest as his feet touch the cold surface. The snow definitely does not meet with his approval. One front paw then the other are lifted and shaken before they are set down again. While my eyes are on the Loth-cat, Anakin takes my right hand and rests it on his left arm. My husband wants us to move to a more secure location, but he also knows that we must abide by Chiss protocol. He doesn’t step forward until he is certain all is ready, then he walks, me at his side, Jamie and our entourage right behind us, across the landing platform and into the nearby building where our hosts are waiting for us.

The warmth on my face, after the large doors are closed, is a welcome change from the cold outside. Behind me, I hear quiet whisperings and footsteps as my handmaidens and Anakin’s guards assume their places. Jamie sits at my feet, his tail wrapped over his paws to warm them, and I can sense that he is much happier at the change in temperature. I feel small fingers slip into my free hand when Mikal abandons Cyran to seek reassurance from me. The strangers around us and unfamiliar setting are making my eldest son nervous. 

The room we are in is large, with a high roof and polished black stone floor. Hanging from ceiling to floor are black banners ornamented with the round white cog of the Empire and the blue and white emblem of the Chiss Ascendency. Standing in front of those are a group of Chiss, each wearing the colours of their family’s Houses. One of them is an ancient woman who is unlike any of the other Chiss I have seen with her completely silver hair. Skalic is with them as well, dressed in a pale blue formal robe. I glance up at Anakin. He has still not said anything to me about how I interrupted the argument he was having with that particular Chiss. Did my husband know who Skalic really was? Was that what they were discussing in such a heated manner? Is he angry with me about how I stopped that argument or not?

Anakin does not respond to my thoughts so I look around to see who else is in attendance. The only other Chiss in the room I recognize is Thrawn, who is hard to miss in his Grand Admiral’s uniform. He is speaking quietly to an older female Chiss who is also wearing a white uniform. I stare at her, wondering if she is of an equivalent rank to Thrawn, but before I can ask Anakin about that, Thrawn abandons his conversation and comes nearer, to halt at my husband’s right side. Skalic accompanies a short Chiss, who is dressed in a yellow robe edged with grey, from where they had been standing, only to stop once they are a few paces in front of us. It’s now time for the formal welcoming ceremony to begin.

‘Greetings, Emperor Vader,’ Skalic translates from Cheunh for the yellow garbed Chiss.

‘Greetings, Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano,’ Thrawn repeats in Cheunh what Anakin said in Basic.

This is going to be extremely tedious, if everything said by the two leaders is repeated in both languages. Somehow I manage to keep a neutral expression on my face despite becoming bored with the diplomatic exchanges and niceties after only a few minutes. The running translation does give me the opportunity to learn a bit more about Cheunh grammar and some new words, too, so I concentrate on that and on trying to sense what the Chiss leader feels.

Several things become obvious to me rather quickly. Formbi, the name he has given us permission to use, does not like humans, thinks of the Empire as a threat, and considers my husband to be an inferior not an equal. He also understands Basic from how he reacts to Anakin’s words before they are translated into Cheunh, although he is doing his best to hide that. I dig my fingers into Anakin’s arm. This trip is starting out in much the same way as the one to Hapes, with public posturing for their home audience by the local leadership and much pointless wasting of time.

I am already wishing we were back home, in the Imperial Palace on Coruscant, instead of here, because I just know something is going to go wrong.

***

‘I trust your accommodations are acceptable?’ Thrawn asks me. ‘They are some of the oldest and most secure in Csaplar.’

My attention is not on him, but on the view from the window. Our rooms were hewn into the side of a mountain in antiquity and are situated well above much of Csaplar, which is mostly carved from the ice of the slow moving glacier below. They are also fortified and warmer than I expected. The thought of sleeping in an ice castle amused my wife for a moment, until practicality overrode that desire of hers. There was no argument from her about our designated quarters, small and cramped as they are in comparison to what I have recently grown accustomed to on Coruscant. Maia is resting in her bedroom, now, her guardian Loth-cat and handmaidens in place watching over her, while the rest of our entourage settles in and secures the suite and immediate area. Tomorrow, once she is ready to go out and explore, I expect my wife will want a tour of some sort to satisfy her curiosity.

I turn to face my Grand Admiral.

‘They will suffice, for now,’ I reply. ‘Of more immediate importance is the resistance I sensed from Aristocra Formbi. He does not want a treaty with the Empire.’

‘He is the most prominent of those who are opposed,’ Thrawn admits, ‘but with sufficient pressure in the necessary places, he will yield.’

‘I suppose it was Formbi’s idea to send Skalic?’ I ask, pointing my finger at his chest.

‘Formbi knew that Skalic was familiar with you, if not the exact circumstances surrounding that,’ he replies, ‘and he does not trust you.’

‘Skalic could prove to be a liability,’ I state. ‘He knows too much of my past identity.’

‘He can be silenced, if necessary,’ Thrawn suggests.

‘No, Admiral,’ I decide. ‘If he becomes a problem, I will deal with him.’

I reach down and pick up one of Mikal’s toys, one of the ‘trooper figures he was playing with earlier, and set it beside the doll of myself on top of the snow-wood desk. There is another issue we must discuss, the one Thrawn avoided several days ago.

‘Your wife,’ I raise that topic, ‘is she still willing to make the exchange?’

It is his turn to go to the window and stare out at the view. I allow him a minute to collect his thoughts. This, apparently, has not gone according to plan despite our previous agreement.

‘It has become far more complicated than a simple exchange and fosterage of children between us,’ Thrawn reveals. ‘You have publically declared that you will never take another wife, so the treaty cannot be bound in that manner. Instead, Formbi has pushed the four ruling Aristocra and the Council of Families into insisting that I exchange my eldest son, my heir, for the second one of yours, since no one else is willing to do so.’

‘I will not require that of my Empress,’ I flatly reject that idea. ‘We have only recently recovered a son who was stolen from us by Ta’a Chume, and I will not treat our eldest as a political pawn. No, Admiral, my wife has suffered far too much to demand that of her.’

‘Perhaps you should consider two other possibilites,’ he proposes, ‘that of your unborn son with your daughter-wife or a future son with your young Hapan wife.’

I clench my hand into a tight fist before releasing it. Thrawn has been aware of Leia’s pregnancy since Endor, having deduced it for himself, and he had suggested exactly this scenario then, too. Trading her son for his is the obvious answer to the problem, but I cannot bring myself to do it. Leia will never allow her child be taken from her, and I do not want to send her and our son to Csilla, into a form of exile. As for Liora, I will not breed a son on her purely to satisfy Formbi’s desire to have one of my children as a hostage, not even if she is willing to agree to it.

‘Both are unacceptable,’ I conclude then order, ‘Find another solution.’

***

I do my best to ignore the stares from the Chiss surrounding us. If there had been an easy way to escape from this, I am certain Anakin would have taken it. He dislikes this sort of pointless public display as much as I do, but unlike the dinner we had in private earlier, we don’t have any choice about this. On Csilla, formality and proper etiquette must be followed, and we are being treated the same as any visiting Aristocras would be. Tonight, we must endure this reception and introductions to the Chiss elite. Tomorrow, at least, I will be able to go see a few of the interesting sights near Csaplar, while my husband has several meetings.

I pull Mikal closer to me to reassure him and settle him in the chair next to mine. The way he is being scrutinized bothers me. It is as if he is being measured against a Chiss standard that is unknown to me and I don’t like it at all. Jamie flops himself down on the stone floor at my feet and stretches out. Despite my best efforts to keep him in my bedroom, the Loth-cat somehow managed to slip out and escape.

Skalic abandons his conversation with another Chiss, once he sees that Anakin and I have taken our seats, and quickly crosses the large room to meet us. The white-haired Aristocra I spotted during the welcoming ceremony earlier in the day accompanies him. She looks like someone’s elderly grandmother with her walking stick and rust-red formal robes.

‘Emperor Vader,’ Skalic greets Anakin. ‘There are others who wish to speak with you, but I thought it best to be the first.’

‘Aristocra Skalic,’ my husband replies in turn. ‘Shall we finish this quickly, so I can move on to more productive discussions?’

The Sith Lord is not interested in spending his time with the usual pleasantries and inane chit-chat, or in talking to Skalic, and he probably expects me to do that instead. His barely polite crankiness and obvious desire to be somewhere else has no effect on the Chiss standing in front of him.

‘Your wife expressed a desire to study Cheunh,’ he reminds us. ‘Aristocra Sabosen’chir’inrokini, an expert linguist, has offered to tutor her.’

Skalic turns to the woman beside him.

‘Your highness, you must call me Enchiri,’ she states. ‘My full name is too long to use except in the most formal of circumstances.’

She is trying to put me at ease and defuse some of the tension between Anakin and Skalic.

‘I will go speak to Aristocra Formbi, now,’ my husband decides, warning me in thought. Be careful what you say and do. Your tutor is probably a spy.

He reaches over to brush my cheek with a finger, pushes himself up and out of the ornate chair, and waves Skalic out of his way. Without any pause, he strides across the room in a direct line to the Chiss he intends to question, Thrawn at his side to act as a translator and two of his blue armoured guards trailing after him. I stare at his back until he reaches Formbi then return my attention to Skalic and Enchiri.

‘I am needed elsewhere, your highness,’ Skalic excuses himself with a minimal bow and beckons his aide, Daria, over to join him.

Just as Anakin did not want to talk to him, Skalic does not want to waste any of his time with me.

Enchiri shakes her head once he has left.

‘The younger generation have such poor manners,’ she complains.

‘Elders on my homeworld say that, too,’ I reveal. ‘I think it must be a universally held opinion.’

I look up at her and make a decision. Anakin warned me to be cautious, but we need to have a few friends amoung the Chiss, if they are to become our allies.

‘Please, sit down, Aristocra,’ I tell her. ‘I do not want you to stand for too long, and my husband will not be back for quite some time.’

‘My white hair and wrinkled face are useful when I want some respect,’ Enchiri says, ‘but I am not as frail as I look.’

Despite her words, the elderly Chiss seats herself beside me and glances over at Mikal. Mara was assigned to act as a handmaiden and to guard me, and my son has been asking her questions to keep himself occupied and from becoming too bored. My husband’s Hand has been unfailingly polite and patient with Mikal and given no indication that acting as a babysitter has bothered her, but I can sense that she needs a break.

‘Mara,’ I ask, ‘could you please bring me a glass of water?’

I look in her face then at Mikal and back again at her. The resentment I had felt from her on hearing my request vanishes as she realizes that what I have asked is designed to allow her to escape from my three year old for a few minutes and is not an attempt on my part to treat her as a servant.

‘There is no hurry,’ I tell her, giving her my permission to take her time, ‘and you should have something yourself, if you need it.’

‘Yes, Empress,’ she replies before she heads towards the area with the tables set with drinks and food.

‘You treat your servants as friends and were not raised to be a noble,’ Enchiri observes.

‘No, I wasn’t,’ I confess. ‘I don’t like ordering people around.’

‘Nor are you entirely comfortable with the position you have been thrust into by your husband,’ she adds.

I bite my lip and reach down to give Jamie a pat, rather than reply to that immediately. Learning how to be Anakin’s Empress has been a difficult struggle, and at times I feel like an imposter who is playing a role on a stage in front of an overly critical audience.

‘If your husband is wise,’ she suggests, ‘he will not involve you in politics, and will instead allow you to choose your own path. If he is a fool, he will force you into a role which does not suit you.’

‘You are very brave to call him that aloud,’ I quietly respond to her swipe at Anakin.

‘I am very old and tend to speak my mind,’ Enchiri admits. ‘My age lets me say what others will not because they consider me a daft and harmless eccentric.’

Her red eyes glitter with amusement as she says that. This woman is not to be underestimated, despite her description of herself.

‘Now, tomorrow,’ she continues before I can reply. ‘Tomorrow morning, after the first meal of the day, we will start with the basics of Cheunh script and grammar, just as I would with any other student. You are trained in linguistic analysis, from what I have been told, so that will make it easier, and if you are familiar with a language which is similar in structure and complexity, it will go even faster.’

Enchiri pushes herself out of her chair, looks over at Mikal, and smiles at him.

‘Your son should attend your lesson as well,’ she offers. ‘He might find it more interesting than being made to listen to political nonsense all night long. My youngest great-grandson should make a good playmate for him, too. They are at a similar stage of development.’

My eyes meet hers, but she turns away without bidding me goodbye and heads towards one of the doors.

There is far more going on than I am aware of, and I wonder what part she has in it.

‘Your water, my lady,’ Mara interrupts my thoughts.

I had forgotten that I sent Anakin’s Hand on an errand, but her timing is perfect.

‘Thank you, Mara,’ I gratefully accept the glass goblet. ‘Thank you for bringing it to me.’

She steps back into her place behind Mikal as I sip slowly on the cold water. Drinking it will give me an excuse to avoid talking to anyone while I think about what I have learned. Enchiri appears to be exactly as she claims - a fellow academic, if a bit odd and eccentric, but I know looks can be a carefully crafted façade designed to deceive.

Once I am finished the water, I set the empty goblet on the floor, which seems to act as a signal to the Chiss who are nearest to me that I can be approached. Somehow, for the next half hour, I manage to smile and nod politely at the appropriate times whenever someone talks to me, and also tell Anakin what he wants to know when he prompts me telepathically.

This party is unlike any of those I have attended before. The Chiss are quiet and reserved in comparison with the loud laughter and raised voices more common on Coruscant. None of them speak to me for more than a minute or two, since I am considered by them to be a wife with no political power or influence. At least my husband seems to be making some headway in his discussions, although I know there have been a few times he would have preferred to be throttling someone rather than talking to them. I do my best to stifle a yawn, reach down to give Jamie another pat, and wonder how much longer I need to stay before I can leave by using the excuse of needing to feed Ani.

‘You are finding this gathering as entertaining as I am, your highness,’ a dry female voice comments.

I blink in surprise and look up at another female Chiss. It is the same woman who had been speaking to Thrawn earlier in the day and she is still wearing her white uniform.

‘My knowledge of Basic surprises you,’ she notes. ‘Some of us have taken the time to study it and become fluent, but I should remember my manners. I am Ar’alani, once an Admiral, now retired, although one never truly leaves the service.’

‘You were speaking with Grand Admiral Thrawn,’ I recall what I saw earlier in the day.

‘We are,’ she pauses for a few seconds then finishes, ‘old military acquaitances.’

I can sense that there is far more to that, a long, complicated history she does not want to reveal or talk about.

‘He has never mentioned you,’ I tell her.

She shoves her short, blue black hair back behind an ear and raises an eyebrow.

‘Once he joined the Imperial Navy he had no reason to,’ Ar’alani admits. ‘He was the best of his generation. We should not have let him go.’

Her red eyes are no longer on me, but following the subject of our conversation as he approaches us.

‘My Empress,’ Thrawn addresses me. ‘The Emperor has asked me to escort you to your quarters so that you may care for his sons.’

I look over at Mikal. He was completely bored rather quickly, and has slumped over in his chair and fallen asleep. The novelty of being fussed over by some of the female Chiss nobles wore off quite a while ago, and it is long past his usual bedtime.

Anakin? I prod my husband.

He is on the other side of the room, surrounded by several Aristocras and in the midst of saying something to one of them, but he stops speaking immediately and turns his head to look at me.

Go to our quarters, see to Mikal and Ani, and rest, he orders. There is nothing more you can do here tonight.

Hearing that from him suggests to me that he is up to something and doesn’t want me around to be involved in it.

Alright, love, I agree. Don’t be too late.

I won’t be, he promises.

Anakin’s attention returns to the discussion I had interrupted and mine shifts to my son. I need to move Mikal from here to our suite, but he is heavier than what Leanan will allow me to carry in my pregnant condition. When I reach over to wake him up, the retired Chiss Admiral stops me.

‘I will carry him for you, if you wish,’ Ar’alani offers. ‘That way you will not need to disturb his sleep.’

Thrawn says nothing in objection, simply nods in approval and to let me know it is safe. From that, I can tell that he wants me to let her do this. I touch my son’s cheek and brush over him with the Force, ensuring that he won’t wake up when she lifts him.

‘Thank you,’ I give my consent.

‘I have always wanted to have a son of my own,’ she admits as she carefully lifts and holds Mikal in her arms, ‘but I gave up all of my family connections when I rose through the ranks. Perhaps I will have the opportunity to adopt one who merits my attention.’

We make an odd procession of six guards from the Chiss Security force, two Chiss Admirals, two Noghri, a Loth-cat, my two handmaidens, and myself, as we wind our way through the corridors and over to the turbo lift to our quarters, but no one stops us for holos or asks any questions. This is a bit peculiar, given the attention I usually receive from the media, but the Chiss are far stricter about what they will allow. Only a few reporters were around when we arrived on Csilla, and the same ones were here at the start of tonight’s events. I suspect that they are working as a press pool because of the tight security, and so the Aristrocras can control what news is sent out to the public.

Eventually the ‘lift arrives, all of us troop into and then out of it, and we finally walk past the last of the security check points without any incidents. Our Chiss escorts give the polite bows that protocol requires before they leave us and I enter our quarters. Mara and Shevan excuse themselves for the evening and I let both of them retire to their rooms to rest. Thrawn goes into the office, but I am certain I will find out what he and my husband are planning once Anakin comes back. I lead Ar’alani into the bedroom which is Mikal’s, wait for her to lay him down on the bed and leave, and pull the blankets over him once she is gone. Before I slip out, I make sure Arfour is in position in a corner and remain at the door until Kohvrekhar and Ghazhak take up their guard posts on either side of it.

‘Please keep him safe for me,’ I ask of them.

They don’t answer verbally to avoid waking my son. Instead, both of them smile in their Noghri way and nod, their eyes glancing into the room at my sleeping son as the door closes between us. Mikal will be well protected because these two Noghri have watched over him since the day he was born.  I know I should not be worrying so much, but something has me on edge. It is nothing concrete, nothing I can pin down - just a general sense of unease which is prompting me to be wary.

As I go back into the public area of the suite, I see one of my handmaidens, still in her grey hooded robe, closing the outer door behind her as she slips out into the corridor beyond. The other is not in the public area of our quarters and has probably taken my advice and gone to bed. Thrawn is still in the office, holding Anakin’s signal jammer in his hand and beckoning for me to join him and Ar’alani. I wait for him to activate it before saying anything.

‘Something is going on, Admiral,’ I tell him, ‘and I am sure you and my husband are right in the middle of it.’

‘The Emperor will be here in a few minutes,’ Thrawn warns me. ‘The subterfuge was necessary. Admiral Ar’alani once fought the Far Outsiders and has information we need. It would not be wise to arouse Aristocra Formbi’s suspicions by arranging a formal conference between us.’

I look over at the retired Chiss Admiral and sigh. Anakin used Mikal falling asleep as a convenient means to organize a secret meeting, and it is one he probably doesn’t want me to be present at.

‘I need to see to my youngest son,’ I excuse myself.

***

After an hour of careful questioning, Thrawn finally admits that he cannot think of anything else Ar’alani might be able to tell us about the aliens she fought decades ago. The intel she has given us, however, is quite valuable and should prove to be very useful.

‘If there is anything you remember later,’ I remind her, ‘contact one of us immediately, using the secure channel Thrawn has set up for that purpose.’

‘I will,’ she reassures us, adding as she looks at Thrawn. ‘I am a patriot and will do what I can to protect my people, even if our own leadership refuses to recognize and act on the threat.’

The Chiss Admiral leaves immediately after saying that, and I pace back and forth in front of the desk for a moment while I debate what to do.

‘What she encountered and destroyed was either a large Yuuzhan Vong scouting party or a small advance group,’ I decide. ‘If they were sending ships that deep into our galaxy, to the edge of Chiss controlled space, thirty years ago then they will already have some knowledge of our technology, weaponry, and military strength, and may have built some bases in unexplored space.’

‘They will also have had the time to infiltrate our governments and militaries with collaborators and spies,’ Thrawn states. ‘I know you have removed anyone not loyal to you personally within the uppermost ranks, but it will be impossible to do that down to the last foot soldier or low-level bureaucrat.’

I stop my pacing and stare at him.

‘You suspect that the Chiss leadership, and Formbi in particular, has been compromised,’ I make that intellectual leap. ‘It would explain his stubborn resistance to agree to a treaty which would be of more benefit to the Chiss than the Empire.’

‘It will not be easy to prove his duplicity, if it is as you suggest,’ he warns me. ‘Formbi is an isolationist, like many in his House, and can justify his opposition on that basis. He might be arrogant but he is no fool. Anything that might incriminate him will be well hidden and protected.’

‘Where would he store and access the electronic files?’ I ask. ‘Artoo can probably find them once he breaks into the system, and he is more than capable of cracking any encryption, given enough time to do so.’

‘Electronic files?’ Thrawn replies, sounding as amused as I have ever heard him. ‘Chiss do not keep electronic files of that sort for our most important data. It will be in hard document form - books like those your children have - and most likely hidden at his House Residence.’

‘Which is where?’ I dig for more information. ‘And its layout? How best to enter it undetected? Where would he have concealed what must be found? I must have all of the details in order to send Jade to steal it for us.’

My Grand Admiral considers my questions for a moment. He already has all the information I need, and probably assembled it long ago, anticipating it would be necessary to put it to use at some point for his or his House’s own benefit. His concerns, right now, are for what I intend to do with it.

‘I need to goad him into action and publicly discredit him,’ I decide. ‘If what Formbi is embroiled in is scandalous enough, he might react immediately to retrieve it rather than risk it becoming open knowledge.’

‘All Aristocras have secrets to hide, my Lord,’ he answers, ‘and Formbi more than most. It is simply a question of which one of them will cause him the most damage at this point in time.’

He reaches for his communicator, has a brief, rather heated conversation in Cheunh with a female Chiss, whose voice is obviously being disguised on her end, then puts it away once she has given in to his request.

‘I have arranged for you to receive what you will require,’ he reveals, ‘but you must go now and alone to meet with my agent and retrieve it. She will not risk or accept an intermediary.’

***

I set my lightsabers on the table near the bed, and allow Cyran to remove and put away the formal gown and jewellery I wore tonight. She had spent the evening looking after Ani for me and is as tired as I am.

‘Tomorrow will be long and busy, and should be a more interesting day than today was,’ I tell her as she helps me into my nightgown and housecoat.

‘I have looked at the schedule, my lady,’ she admits. ‘The Chiss are demanding most of the Emperor’s time.’

‘Better him than me,’ I admit. ‘He can handle the negotiations while I put on a show of being a tourist who is seeing the sights. That should keep our hosts happy.’

‘At least the visit to the hot springs should be relaxing,’ she tells me.

‘If I am lucky, I might be able to soak for a while without anyone disturbing me,’ I say then suggest, ‘Mara is supposed to go with me, but you could swap duties, if she is willing to watch Ani.’

Cyran shakes her head in response. She knows that Mara is not quite sure what to do around my children, and that asking her to look after my infant son would probably be a bad idea.

‘Ani is used to me and doesn’t know her,’ my aide replies. ‘He would probably fuss for her and be quite cranky.’

I sit down on the bed and accept a cup of millaflower tea from her.

‘You should go rest,’ I send her out of the bedroom, hopefully to have a good night’s sleep.

As I sip on the hot tea, I try to relax and think about the day’s events. Most of the time, I was on public display or in here doing my best to rest. Thankfully, my bedroom is considerably warmer than most of the other rooms I have been in today, but I doubt the Chiss gave these quarters to us to appear as good hosts. They do nothing without a purpose in mind. Their intent was probably to both provide appropriate security and keep a close eye on us. Our bedrooms are small compared to what I am used to, too, and with all my trunks packed in here the floor space is smaller still. The bed is not that large, either. There will be no easy way for Anakin and I to share it unless we snuggle up close to one another, so he will probably sleep, if he does that tonight, in the slightly bigger bedroom assigned to him.

Ani is sleeping, but he will soon be awake for his late night meal. To amuse myself until he does begin to stir, I toss one of Jamie’s toys across the room and watch him chase it. At least the Loth-cat has adapted quickly to our temporary home. Artoo lets out a quiet beep and reaches out his manipulator arm to pick up the cat toy. It is soon being pounced on again after the droid tosses it. Anakin assigned his old mechanical friend to be my in-room security and borrowed him specifically from Luke for this purpose. He does not trust any other droid to be fast enough to let him know if there is a problem or to defend me if it becomes necessary. At least Artoo has been discrete, and careful not to be intusive or stare at me when I am changing.

‘I don’t like it here, Artoo,’ I confess to him. ‘I want to go home.’

He lets out a chirp in agreement.

‘You don’t like this place, either,’ I observe.

The response this time is a negative shake of his dome and sad noises. I let out a sigh. The current schedule calls for a two week visit, but depending on how the negotiations go or what unexpected events occur, that could easily change from what is planned. Secretly, I hope we leave sooner, rather than later. Leanan does not want me out from under her care for any longer than necessary and was quite reluctant to allow me to leave Coruscant at all. Somehow, Anakin managed to persuade her otherwise.

I hear rustling behind me and know my youngest is awake. Before he can begin to fuss, I retrieve him from the crib and start to feed him.

Maia, my husband calls to me when I am almost finished.

I’m still awake, just seeing to Ani, I admit.

My bedroom door slides open. Anakin comes in quickly and quietly, swiftly crossing the small room to sit beside me. The Loth-cat sprawled at my feet ignores him.

‘It is rather tight in here with all of your stuff,’ he repeats my earlier, privately held opinion. ‘Space is associated with status on Csilla, so we should have been given much larger quarters.’

‘You should have seen the tiny rooms Cyran, Mara, and Shevan are stuck with,’ I tell him. ‘I couldn’t ask them to take any of it. There would have been nowhere for them to sleep, and what the Noghri are expected to manage with was worse, even though they won’t complain about it.’

‘Speaking of sleeping,’ he brings up that topic. ‘Sharing this bed is going to be awkward. I wonder if that was intentional.’

‘Maybe they assumed we would prefer to sleep apart at night?’ I ask.

‘Difficult to say,’ Anakin answers, ‘but it is inconvenient. We will have to make do with it. Raising it as an issue could be seen as petty, and that might be why it was done. The Chiss like to play games of that sort, if it helps them get what they want.’

I lift my fingers to rest on his breathscreen, and his arms wrap around Ani and I in response. This is our first substantial physical contact in hours.

‘You don’t want to be here,’ he states.

‘It feels too much like we are adrift in a turbulent sea with secrets swirling all around us, and I don’t know what those are or which ones will pull us under,’ I reveal.

‘Your safety has been assured to me and that of the children,’ he promises. ‘If I sense the slightest danger to you, I will send all of you to the Executor immediately. That would be a diplomatic slap in the face to the Chiss, so they will not risk it.’

His fingers trail through my hair as he tries to soothe my anxiety.

‘The Chiss Houses are in constant competiton with each other for power, and especially to become one of those select few who rule,’ my husband tells me. ‘What you are sensing is probably the constant, underlying turmoil due to that. Each of their Aristocras will attempt to use us to push that balance in their favour. In response, I will have to manipulate the ones who are resistant to the treaty into more favourable positions. I do not want you involved in that at all, as I made clear to those I spoke to tonight.’

I lean into his shoulder while I think about that. He knows I want nothing to do with the politics he will be embroiled in as the Emperor and has done his best to protect and remove me from that here.

‘What about Aristocra Enchiri?’ I ask.

Anakin lets out a quiet laugh.

‘She is a harmless, if brilliant, eccentric,’ he reassures me. ‘Do not worry about her trying to influence you. If anything, she will be more interested in what nuances of Basic she can learn from you than anything else. Perhaps you should confuse her with some of your Earthisms.’

He’s smiling as he says the last of that, even though I cannot see it.

I feel Ani shift against my chest as he finally releases my breast and falls asleep.

‘Let me put him to bed for you,’ his father offers.

I slide our son into his father’s arms and watch as the elder Anakin tucks the younger into his crib. While he does that, I wipe my chest with the soft cloth I had at hand and close the top of my nightgown. The Sith Lord does not move from his spot next to the crib until he is certain that his namesake will not stir. Then, he comes back to me, waves me under the bed covers and pauses to hold my left hand for a moment, his thumb resting on my gold wedding band.

‘I must go,’ my husband warns me, ‘and I do not know when I will return to you tonight or if I will return to you tonight.’ He stops me from asking what he means by that, by shaking his head, and adds, ‘It is better for you not to know what I will be working on, but there is nothing for you to worry about - merely some important documents I must retrieve and go through.’

Bureaucratic paper pushing, no doubt, and they are probably extremely boring to read, too.

‘Good night, then, my gallant lord,’ I softly tell him.

‘Good night, my lady love,’ he replies.

The Sith Lord brushes my cheek with a finger and is gone.

I am almost at the point of falling asleep when I finally realize that Artoo had left with him.

***

Those tasks complete, seeing to my wife, checking on my sons, and retrieving Artoo, I can now concentrate solely on what must be done next and quickly.

‘Artoo,’ I call the droid closer to me.

I slip the datacard with the schematics of Csaplar into his reader and wait for the map Thrawn has supplied to be projected. Where we currently are and the point I must reach are clearly indicated in it, but between them are a number of intersections and what must be heavily travelled areas.

‘Reaching the rendezvous point is not the problem,’ Thrawn admits. ‘Arriving there unseen is.’

‘Artoo will be able to shut down the security monitors and lighting,’ I reveal. ‘I do not need that to find my way.’

My old ‘droid lets out a curious whistle.

‘Yes, Artoo, I need your help - just like old times,’ I answer his questions, ‘and my helmet allows me to see in the dark.’

He is silent while he considers how to respond to that.

‘You must remain here, Admiral,’ I order. ‘Let it be known that I am with the Empress and we have retired for the night, with a request that we are not to be disturbed.  Jixton and Esteen have already swapped places with the guards outside and have been briefed.’

‘And if you are seen?’ Thrawn asks.

‘They will think I am someone else,’ I decide. ‘Without any ‘droids that could show the contrary and with Artoo disabling the security systems, a simple illusion should be effective enough. When I need to reveal who I am to your agent, I will do so.’

I can sense him weighing the potential cost of failure against the risks.

‘None of this would be necessary if your agent would simply give you the files,’ I remind him.

‘She is young and afraid, and cannot be pushed too hard,’ Thrawn reveals.

I grab the cowl from the desk, toss it over my head, and pull it up to drape over my helmet, concealing my mask in its shadows, and my chest box and armour under the grey fabric falling in front. Instead of having it as an encumbrance to deal with, I had already removed my cloak and left it in the bedroom assigned to me. For a few minutes, I concentrate on the Chiss face I had chosen at random, willing it to appear over my mask.

‘I will return as soon as I can,’ I tell Thrawn, once I am confident the illusion is complete and stable.

The door opens to my touch. I step through, pause briefly between the two Royal Guards, Jix and Esteen clad in blue armour,  orient myself, and head down the corridor after allowing Artoo to move into the lead. As we enter each new section, he disables the automatic systems in the next, disrupting the security cameras and keeping us in darkness rather than allowing the lights to come on. This also prevents the heaters from activating, but my armour will keep me warm.

Artoo stops. Ahead of us is the checkpoint in and out of the building which is manned by Chiss security.

‘Chak’al ktah!’ I overhear one of the guards cursing at the malfunctioning security screens.

I focus inwards, preparing myself. Hopefully, I will appear to be no one of any importance, and nobody they recognize.

‘Onwards, Artoo,’ I order once I am certain the illusion will hold.

‘Dururmak’chal!’ the senior of the two Chiss orders.

I stop as he commanded in Cheunh, but do not give him the opportunity to say any more.

‘Ewadongo akangoyike. Ngoyehembe ngibhozonoso lemo,’ I tell them in Sy Bisti, leaning hard on their minds to convince them to let me go without further questioning.

‘Esodongo akamvombe. Engehembe ngibhozonoso lekhi,’ he echoes back at me. We do not need to stop him. He can go about his business.

I continue on my way, ignoring any Chiss I happen to pass, and not stopping again until we have left the wider, public corridors and reached the turbolift which will take Artoo and I down to the city of Csaplar proper. The ‘lift takes longer to reach this level than I would like, and I force myself to stand in place rather than pace restlessly as I wait for it. A Chiss who is in it when it arrives quickly leaves once he sees the ‘droid. I shake my head, perplexed by the antipathy I can sense. For some reason, Chiss do not use ‘droids, nor do they seem to have a high opinion of those who do. Once inside, I change the illusion I am using, choosing a different Chiss face to wear to make it harder for my movements to be traced. Unfortunately, concealing Artoo’s presence will be much more difficult.

‘Override the controls so that we do not stop until at the level required,’ I tell Artoo. ‘From there we need the quickest route with the least amount of useage, and if you create a wide spread power outage, we should be able to move more easily without being seen.’

Minimizing the number of Chiss we encounter is essential.

‘I know,’ I respond to his beeps of concern when he cannot do exactly as requested. ‘Do your best.’

The lights go out and the‘lift comes to a sudden, unexpected halt.

‘Artoo?’ I ask.

He gives a frantic screech, instantly retracts his computer interface arm, and rapidly rolls back from the data socket. Obviously, he was not the one responsible for the power outage, but we are now trapped in the ‘lift.

‘I need that door open, now, Artoo!’ I order.

The ‘droid’s answer is a negative spin back and forth of his dome. I let out a low, annoyed growl at his refusal to co-operate and plug back into the system. My only other options are to slice into the control panel myself or resort to using the Force, and time is running short.

I decide to pry the door open with the Force, shoving Artoo through it once I have done so, much to his dismay, before jumping through myself and releasing it to close behind us. The corridor we find ourselves in is unlit so I ignite my lightsaber to have a better look.

‘I don’t think we are meant to be here,’ I admit.

Artoo whistles in agreement and adds to the light available by promptly displaying Thrawn’s map. There is no indication on it that this place exists. It could be a forgotten passage which predates the map, but I suspect that it has been deliberately deleted from the records.

‘I could open the ‘lift door again, if you prefer waiting in there to be rescued,’ I suggest, ‘but perhaps this will lead us closer to where I need to be.’

I head down the corridor, examining it as I go. The stone walls and ceiling are thick with ice crystals and most of the floor is covered with more ice crystals and dust, but the center of the hallway shows signs that it has been used recently and by more than one person.

‘A secret passage,’ I state. ‘The questions to ask are where does it lead, and who has been using it and why?’

After another ten minutes, I stop and look at the map again. Artoo has been adding to it as we go, marking out the turns in the passage and the occasional niche in the walls as we pass them. It is clear that we are heading steadily eastwards and slowly downwards. The ice crystals have gradually disappeared from the stone surfaces as the temperature has been rising. If we continue on the same heading, this corridor should intersect with one of the smaller ones near the hot springs, and from there I can make my way to the square by using the streets of Csaplar. In the next hundred meters, there will either be a dead end or an exit of some sort.

An echo of distant footsteps travels down the corridor from around the corner ahead of us. I stop Artoo with a hand on his dome and freeze in place, listening carefully and trying to sense what I can through the Force. After a minute, nothing more can be heard. Whoever it was has either halted as we did or left the passage. If I were younger and less experienced, I would rush ahead and into a possible confrontation, but I must operate as if I am deep in enemy territory, without backup, and cannot break from cover. I decide to err on the side of caution and risk the delay.

I wait, impatiently, until I am certain that there is no one near, then continue on our journey.

Once around the corner, I stop again and stare at the wall blocking my way ten meters ahead of us. There must be a means to open a hidden door in that. How else could whoever I heard have gained access?

‘Scan the area, Artoo,’ I order. ‘See if you can find how to open that.’

His visual scanner surveys the surface, finally coming to a stop with a light beam aimed at a well concealed panel.

‘Good work,’ I praise, giving his dome a pat.

I walk over and examine the wall, noting the rust red and green fabric fibers which are caught in the edges of the door near the floor. More than one person’s clothes were snagged as they came in or out. The means to open the door is a simple, mechanical push-pull release mechanism which pivots open a section of the wall and does not require any power to operate. This makes sense. A power source could be detected far more easily.

‘We need to be careful and prepared,’ I warn the ‘droid. ‘I do not know what is behind the door, only that I cannot sense anyone in the immediate area.’

Holding my lightsaber in my right hand, I activate the mechasim with my left and watch the wall slowly move. With some caution, I peer out to see what I am able.

The door opens into a recessed area off another corridor.

After I am certain I can open the door again from both sides, I motion Artoo through and allow it to swing closed behind us. I quickly return my lightsaber to my belt, rather than risk someone seeing it, and check the map for our location.

‘The hotsprings are to the left, so we must go to the right,’ I decide. ‘It should not be too much farther.’

The rest of our journey is uneventful and the Chiss we encounter give me only a passing glance, but I never let down my guard.

‘Wait here,’ I tell Artoo once we are close to the rendezvous point. ‘Find a place to conceal yourself until I have what I came for.’

The square is deserted, save for a few Chiss crossing it on the opposite side from where I am standing, two apparent lovers seated on one of the benches surrounding an abstract statue in the center, and a young female Chiss who is busy sketching a copy of the artwork. She looks up from her efforts, shoves her stylus and drawing pad in a satchel, and marches up to me, her face reflecting her annoyance.

‘Fenian, asiphazoli!’ Daria hisses at me in Sy Bisti.

Fenian, you’re late, my surprised mind supplies the translation. Has she recognized the Chiss whose face I am using to hide my identity? Or has she realized who I really am? Whichever it is, I need to tell her that I came as quickly as I could before she blows my cover.

‘Ngefoke ngukashishe ngengukanukwinzike …’ I start an explanation.

Daria silences the rest of what I intended to say by kissing me on the breathscreen, what would appear to her as the mouth of the illusion I am using. I decide to co-operate with her, for the moment, until I can take control of the situation. She slides her arms around my waist, so I do the same in return. Her nervousness and uncertainty are evident to me in her movements and her voice.

‘Your lightsaber gave you away. Hide it, quickly,’ she whispers to me in Basic.

I do as she has suggested, pull her closer to my chest, and refuse to release her when she attempts to step back.

‘You are playing a very dangerous game, young one,’ I growl at her. ‘We need to move to a more secure and less public location, so continue to pretend we are lovers and come with me.’

I keep an arm at her waist and pull her along, moving back to where I left Artoo. Before we can make it out of the square, a delegation headed by Aristocra Formbi enters it. Tonight’s formal events must have ended and he is heading home to his House Residence. He stops and stares at Daria and I, frowns angrily, and starts to head towards us. That prompts me to increase our pace down the street, despite her repeated attempts to break free of my grasp. Eventually, I am dragging Daria by her arm to force her to stay at my side, and I do not stop until we are well ahead of our pursuer and I am able to locate a dark, secluded niche to duck into.

‘We have to run, not hide,’ Daria whispers loudly in protest.

‘We cannot out run the comm system,’ I remind her, ‘and any attempt at flight would alert Formbi that something more is going on than just you sneaking around with a boyfriend he does not approve of.’

I push her against the wall, pinning her in place with my body, and bring my hands up to encircle her face. Daria is close to panicking, but I need her to be calm and rational about this.

‘You need to behave like my lover and be convincing at it,’ I tell her. ‘I expect that Formbi will leave us alone rather than embarrass himself by interrupting what we are doing,’

She bites her lip, nods, and breathes slowly in and out. At that, I release her. Her eyes dart around the area we are in and she points towards the back wall where it is darkest. I follow her when she goes over and kneels facing me, and obey when she indicates with a gesture that I am to stand in front of her. What she intends for us to do is obvious but there is no time to come up with an alternative plan. I remove my gloves and drop them on the ground beside my feet. A few seconds later, she grabs the fingers of my left hand, holds them in front of my cod piece, and begins to suck on them. I can hear Formbi’s voice growing louder as he searches for us. There is a terrible, awkward silence once he has located us, and discovered what he thinks we are doing.

‘Daten, daten, Daria!’ I call out in Cheunh to encourage her. ‘Ah baf’set ni!’

Daria looks up at me and smiles suggestively as she kisses my finger tips.

‘Ni chalmene’chal Vader?’ she proposes to me.

Honour me, Vader, she has said, an oblique and unique Chiss way to ask for my permission.

‘Ch’tra’chal Daria’al,’ I urge her onwards, giving her my consent to do as she wishes.

Daria rocks back and forth on her knees, sliding my fingers in and out of her mouth, and behaving as if what she is doing is real. We will have to act this out to its logical conclusion because Formbi is still watching us. With no other choice, I twist my fingers in Daria’s hair and hold her head close to my body.

‘Daria, daten’fak,’ I moan to cue her to hurry up and finish it.

She alternates between sucking hard and gently swirling her tongue around my fingers, teasingly using it to trace my gold wedding ring. I shiver in response as she does that and continue to produce the appropriate noises and movements. The greedy swallowing and licking sounds she makes when I fake a climax are loud enough that they cannot be misunderstood by anyone. It is her exaggerated enjoyment of what we are supposedly doing that finally prompts the Aristocra to depart and leave us without an audience.

‘You didn’t need to put on that much of a show, and you can stop now,’ I tell Daria once I am certain Formbi can no longer see or hear us.

Her relief is evident when she sits back on her heels and lets her head droop. I bend over to grab my gloves, and as I do so, I see the deep blush on her face.

‘You have never done that before, and are embarrassed,’ I guess at the reason for her reaction as I dry my hand on my surcoat and pull my gloves back on.

‘Yes,’ she quietly admits.

I waver between apologizing to her for what we were forced to do and scolding her for not having an appropriate escape route planned so that we could have avoided it. Inexperienced and afraid is how Thrawn had described her to me and he was correct on both counts.

‘You have something for me?’ I opt to retrieve what I came for instead of delving any further into her personal life.

She reaches for the leather bag she had shoved her sketch pad into and removes a small book from inside it.

‘One question, first,’ she insists.

‘I might decide not to answer it,’ I warn her.

‘Did you really mean what you said to me, that I am daten’fak to you?’ she asks.

I stare at her, surprised that she would want to know that.

‘No, I did not mean that,’ I reply truthfully. ‘It was merely what had to be said at that time.’

I reach out a hand for the book, but Daria pulls it away and refuses to give it to me.

‘This comes with a price,’ she firmly states.

‘I could simply take it from you,’ I remind her.

‘But you will not,’ she counters. ‘You will pay my price and take me back to Coruscant with you when you leave Csilla.’

‘The book, Daria,’ I insist, emphasizing what I want by extending my hand closer to her.

‘I will give myself to you, as well as the book,’ she offers instead. ‘In every way, here, right now, if that is what you want in exchange for safe passage from Chiss space.’

‘Do not play games of that type with me!’ I growl, my temper rising as I stab a finger at her chest. ‘Now, give me the book!’

Her hands are shaking when she finally does as I have ordered. I tuck the book inside my surcoat, and reach over to gently brush her cheek with a finger. She is terrified of someone, desperately looking for a means to escape from them, and thinks a relationship with me will enable her to do that.

Silently, I apologize to Luke for what I am about to do - arrange a potential marriage for him without his knowledge. I need a treaty with the Chiss and a way around Formbi’s insistence on holding Mikal hostage on Csilla, and Luke will understand that. Dangling a marriage and a way off world in front of Daria will also keep her quiet until I leave, and if that is not sufficient, there are other ways to permanently silence her.

‘I will never marry again and have no interest in filling a harem with concubines,’ I tell her. ‘My eldest son, however, is still unmarried. If he chooses to accept you, you would never be more than a secondary wife to him, since he must be able produce heirs of his own. If he rejects you, I will see that you are taken care of, regardless of that, but the final choice will always be his, not yours.’

Daria says nothing to that offer, but I can tell that she is carefully considering it.

‘You can send your answer to me, tomorrow,’ I allow.

I hold my hand out to her and she takes it, letting me help her onto her feet.

‘Be more careful returning home than you were in meeting me,’ I caution her. ‘Espionage is a dangerous and deadly game, and if you are caught, I will deny everything.’

I wait until she has been gone for a few minutes before sending a signal to Artoo. He is quick to find me and eager to go back to what he thinks is a safer area. We retrace our steps, and the number of Chiss we pass by is less than it was earlier. People are going home from their late night adventures, ironically, just as I am. As I plod along, I consider what I will tell Maia and what I must keep to myself. She does not need to know the sordid results of Daria’s lack of planning, at least not at the moment. My confession of guilt, for my minor infraction, can come later.

My comlink chirps. I answer it without thinking.

‘You are running late,’ Thrawn states without any formalities or greetings.

‘There were unexpected and unavoidable delays,’ I reply, ‘but I have the package.’

‘And you were seen and identified,’ he adds. ‘You must return immediately.’

I pick up the pace I am moving at. The entrance to the hidden passage is ahead, and using it will shorten my travel time considerably.

‘Understood,’ I sign off and put the comlink away.

The door swings open and I usher Artoo through it. Now, there is no longer any reason to be cautious and every incentive to cover as much ground as I can as quickly as possible. Both Artoo and I move as rapidly as we can, not stopping until we are at the other end. I search the walls next to the turbolift for the controls that must be there, somewhere.

Artoo finds them before I do.

‘You need to plug in and stop the ‘lift on my command,’ I tell him.

He lets out a questioning whistle.

‘I don’t want anyone to be on it, so timing is critical,’ I explain.

That prompts a burst of grumpiness.

‘Just like old times,’ I agree. ‘I find myself in a predicament and you conveniently rescue me from it.’

I tip my head and concentrate, waiting to hear the sound of the ‘lift’s upward movement and to feel the emptiness in the Force within it which will mean it is free of living beings. It takes a while for the combination I need to finally occur.

‘Now, Artoo!’ I order. ‘Stop the ‘lift and open its door.’

For once, something goes according to plan, and I am able to repeat our journey in reverse without raising anyone’s suspicions.

Thrawn has cleared the public areas of my quarters and is waiting in the office. I pull out the book Daria had given me, but don’t hand it to him.

‘This came with a rather steep price attached to it,’ I state.

‘You were more successful than expected, my Lord,’ Thrawn reveals. ‘As you wanted, Formbi is on his way here, right now, to confront you, but he is not in a rage about the theft. Apparently, he thinks you have seduced his favourite niece, and he intends to force you into marrying her.’

I stare at him, unsure whether to deny those accusations outright or laugh at the situation.

‘I did not have sexual relations with that woman,’ I state with as much dignity as I can manage.

***