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Title: The Sith Lord and the Scientist
Author: Maia (maia@bastcastle.org)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Vader, OFC, a few other OC’s
Category: AU, Adventure, Romance, some Angst.

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

Summary: What happens when a certain Sith Lord finds himself stranded on Earth with only a stubborn scientist to help him get back to the Empire?

Earth, Solar System, Thurs. Feb 8.

Thursday afternoon before the start of the university’s mid-semester break, and I am sitting in my office, staring out the window, watching my colleagues leave for the week. I am the only person here with no one to go home to and my small apartment is on site, so I have volunteered, as usual, to babysit the radio telescopes for the next ten days. My work is my life, but there are times I wish that a little adventure or excitement beyond the discovery of the occasional new pulsar would creep in.

I let my eyes roam around my office, cataloging the various bits and pieces hanging on the walls as I go. My survey stops at the wall facing me. Two Bachelor’s, one Master’s, two Doctorates. Twelve years in university plus five pieces of parchment equals one lonely thirty-something academic who really needs to get a life. Or do something. Or go somewhere. Or meet someone.

I let out a snort at that last thought. As if anyone would be interested in me, a woman who is too tall, too thin, with a chin and nose which don’t fit her face, and unruly hair pulled back in a severe braid. I am no classical beauty by any measure and have long known this.

Or maybe I should just stop feeling sorry for myself. If Michael could see me he would be busy scolding me in that irritating manner of his. I look over at the photos on the wall. My fun-loving older brother dominates many of them. We were inseparable as children but he’s been dead for almost three years now. And I miss him. I miss his teasing, his sharp wit, and that odd sense of him always being there in the back of my mind. I even miss him making me look foolish in the salle when we would fence together. Michael the graceful one; Maia the clutz.

I stare at an old, faded picture of my friends from university sitting on my desk. We are all scattered, the ones who are still alive, that is. School and university hold few fond memories for me. The label of ‘child genius’ was nothing but a burden for me to live with. I was as alone and isolated then as I am now. But in the past it was the other students who avoided me - today I am the one who avoids everyone else. If you don’t reach out, you can’t be hurt; a lesson I learned long ago.

But sometimes, like today, the loneliness of my situation haunts me.

I shut my eyes for a moment and force myself back to what I need to do. As the only person here, I will have my hands full if there are any problems.

Time to get to work. I pick up a pencil and start working out the co-ordinates I need to observe tonight. While I could let the computers do this, I prefer to solve the equations by hand. My mathematical ability is both my gift and curse; the one thing that truly sets me apart from everyone else. And the one thing I have always been singled out for. Calculations finished, I drop the pencil back in the mug with the others. No more time to wool-gather. There are things to be done.

Suppressing a sigh, I start the downloads from the main frame to the computers that drive the seven linked ‘scopes in the synthesis array. It is a tedious process, and even though Murray spent his sabbatical designing a new set of chips for processing data, the hardware they are tied to is forty years old and extremely cantankerous. Space science has never been a funding priority of our government. Only quick thinking, cutting every cost imaginable, and public outcry have kept the observatory open.

I finally finish transferring the instructions for tonight’s measurements, and start the programs. Not trusting the computers to report back accurately, I look out the window to check that all seven dishes are moving in tandem. So far, so good. As they lock in place and the platforms begin to move the mobile ‘scopes into position along the railtrack, my laptop starts beeping in alarm. Number two has jammed. Again. Now I do let out a sigh and shove my glasses up from where they have slipped down my nose. Good thing I decided to check the system out while the sun is still up. Number two is just about the farthest ‘scope away and has always been a problem. There is no help for it - I am going to have to play mechanic.

Five minutes later I am tossing my laptop and a set of tools into the truck. Heading to the north, I drive almost two miles to reach ‘scope number two. When I arrive, I unlock the platform’s drive room and plug in my computer into the drive system, hoping the problem is a simple one. No such luck today, I discover. One of the bearings has collapsed and I will have to replace it, a job which will take several hours. So much for having some time to myself to read the latest issues of Astrobiology and Nature. I drive back, past the central office building to the junkyard. The seven linked ‘scopes have been cobbled together out of old decommissioned military equipment, and the bits left over from the four discarded dishes are scattered outside the workshop which also serves as a storage shed. A few minutes digging through storage bins produces the required bearing, and I make the return trip back to dish number two.

Several hours later I am covered in grease and becoming rather frustrated. No amount of pushing, pulling, or threatening has snapped the bearing into place. In disgust I give it a good hard kick, and hear the blessed click of it going in exactly where it is supposed to. I will have to remember to tease Jeff next week about his theory that anything can be fixed with an appropriately placed boot. Knowing I am running out of time, I hurriedly replace the housings and cover plates I have had to remove and make a quick retreat back to the research center. There should be just enough time to get the programming started and not lose any observation time.

I race into the computer room and activate the program I had downloaded earlier. Crossing my fingers, I duck out of the copper caged room and watch as all seven scopes move in tandem and the mobile ones slowly roll into position. Number two behaves itself and I let out the breath I had been holding. Good. Now there is just “old faithful,” the ancient 30 meter wide dish, to get going. No one is scheduled on it this week since the team from Aricebo canceled, so I have ten full nights of super-nova remnant hunting all to myself. Grinning happily, I head upstairs to the old control room and feed in the first sets of co-ordinates I had selected earlier in the day. On cue, the large ‘scope moves into position without a hitch, and I give the ancient computer banks a pat. Closing the perforated copper door after me, I head back to my office.

After spending an hour flipping through Nature, I decide to check on the synthesis array. There is no point in running it all night if number two has jammed again. I step outside and run my eyes along the rail line. Everything looks okay and the computers inside are humming away happily, so I shut off all the facility’s external floodlights except the ones on old faithful. I will be hand programming co-ordinates tonight and need to make sure that the dish responds properly.

Fri. Feb. 9.

It is just after midnight when I notice the peculiar readings coming off of the large telescope. Oh, no, not again. Some idiot has just ruined all of tonight’s observations. I close my eyes and curse. The observatory is isolated on purpose, located in a wide, circular valley high in the mountains, and shielded from electronic interferences. Our own computers are kept in copper cages and all wiring is shielded to prevent signals from leaking out to cause havoc. We are also in a strictly enforced no vehicles or aircraft zone after dusk or before dawn. I know that any cars are blocked twenty miles away at the security gates which my co-workers would have closed when they left this afternoon. That leaves aircraft. Probably some hotshot local on a dare or lost out of towner. I toy briefly with calling my father’s uncle to ask him to send someone out from the nearby military base to scare the fool, but decide it can wait until morning. Sam, my great uncle, will have access to any flight plans and tracking so he will have no trouble locating the culprit.

Then I hear the scream of over-stressed engines and see the source of my annoyance whip past the large telescope. Whatever the craft is, from the brief look I got and the way it moved, it is definitely not from around here. The pilot comes around again, and I wonder what on Earth he is up to. There are no windows on the east side of the building, the direction he has headed in, so I will need to go outside to have a look. By the time I have turned on all the floodlights and made my way outside, the engines have fallen silent. Now I really am becoming concerned since I may have a downed air craft on my hands.

I run around the building and stop in amazement at what I see. There is a TIE fighter like those in Star Wars parked in the middle of the lawn. My brain refuses to believe what my eyes are seeing, so I close them for a few seconds. When I reopen them, the TIE is still there, and this is no ordinary fighter if memory serves me. Okay, professor, time to sit down for a minute or two and think about this. Having solid ground under me helps. At least I won’t fall down now. I prop my chin on one hand and stare at the ship. Alright, let’s be logical about this. Number one, something screwed up the radiowave readings and you know it had to be airborne. Number two, you saw whatever it was fly by the old telescope and no Earthly craft is capable of moving like that. Number three, you know it landed behind the research center. Number four, it is sitting right there in front of you. Number five, either I am hallucinating, having a breakdown, or there really is a TIE fighter parked over there.

A smooth baritone voice addresses me from the shadows thrown by the TIE’s panels. ‘I hope you are not planning to spend the entire night sitting there staring at my ship.’

I recognize that voice. Well, silly, I remind myself, who else could be the pilot for this particular TIE? More important, what is he doing here? I carefully consider the possible explanations. This could be an elaborate joke or hoax, but I don’t think so. Sam occasionally lets slip what they are working on, and nothing comparable to this fighter exists on Earth, even at the concept stage. Best approach, I decide, is to assume this really is who I think it is and go from there. If it is a lark, then someone will just get a good laugh at my expense. Well, Maia, you did wish for some excitement in your life, and here it is.

‘What brings Darth Vader to the single planet which is farthest from the bright center of the universe?’

Somehow I keep my voice absolutely steady, with no trace of fear in it. Lecturing is a bit like acting, and I have become very good at both in the last decade.

‘Engine trouble,’ he admits as he steps from the shadows and heads straight for me.

I scramble to my feet and wait. When he is a meter or two away from me, he stops. Somehow, I understand that I am being measured against some standard known only to him. I meet his gaze calmly, without flinching, refusing to let him intimidate me. The Sith Lord does not stay motionless long, but proceeds to circle me like a cat stalking a mouse. Suddenly he grabs my arm and pulls me against his chest.

‘I cannot sense you in the Force,’ he hisses, ‘your thoughts are hidden from me. It is as if you do not exist.’

Putting up a fight will make the situation worse, I quickly realize, so I stay calm, offer the only explanation I have, and hope he accepts it. ‘There are no midichlorians on this world, or in me, and you can’t sense what doesn’t exist. Feel free to check my blood if you don’t believe me.’

My arm is released, and after the Dark Lord considers my words, he replies, ‘I have no choice for the moment but to believe you.’

I continue to stare at him. Darth Vader is standing right in front of me and I have no idea what I am supposed to do with him.

‘Since no one else has joined us, you must be alone,’ he observes.

I nod in response. No point in lying about that. He would find out the truth quickly enough anyway.

‘It’s the university’s mid-semester break. Everyone has left for the week except me,’ I admit.

‘Your name?’ he asks next.

‘It’s Maia,’ I tell him.

‘Just Maia? No titles?’

I give my head a shake. ‘We are pretty relaxed around here and hearing “Professor” and “Doctor” all day just makes me feel old. Some of my students insist on being more formal, but I would prefer that you are not.’

‘Maìá,’ he speaks my name with a peculiar accent, and I like the sound of his voice when he says it. ‘The ancient Sith goddess of battles and warriors.’

Somehow I stop myself from replying to that.

‘I have made several erroneous assumptions, then,’ he states when I stay silent. ‘From the outside this appears to be an Imperial deep-space communications site.’

I guess he wants to know what we do here, so I do my best to explain, ‘The only connection we have with the military is the decades old junk they gave us to work with. We are a research facility, Lord Vader, one which specializes in the location of things like pulsars, black holes, super novae, and the like using radiowaves.’ I pause a moment, then wryly add, ‘If you are looking for a way to call home, it’s not here.’

‘And where is “here”?’

How am I to answer this one? I don’t know where he has come from or why he is here.

‘Maia,’ the Sith Lord prompts and from the sound of his voice I had better give him some sort of answer.

My brain works away at what I should tell him. When I still don’t reply, I feel a warning brush against my throat. In response, I simply slow my breathing and remain calm.

‘You don’t need to do that,’ I scold a little. ‘I am trying to think.’

‘You are extraordinarily impertinent. I will be addressed properly. And you will answer my questions and do exactly as you are told,’ Vader warns, shaking a finger in front of my nose as he does.

Chastised, I decide that co-operating with him, at least until I know what is going on, might be the wisest thing to do. I nod my agreement. The light touch becomes slightly stronger, then fades.

‘Our location?’ he prods.

I’ll give him the technical description, I decide, ‘Gaea, Solar system, on the edge of the Orion arm.’

‘Not a system or a designation I am familiar with,’ he muses aloud. ‘Perhaps in the Outer Rim? Or Unknown Regions?’

Before he can question me further on this, I have one of my odd moments of complete clarity. There is something I need to do, and do it fast, or I am going to have a real mess to deal with. Without thinking, I grab him by the hand and try to pull him along after me. When he refuses to budge, I explain, ‘We have to hurry. Your fighter has been tracked by NORAD and if I don’t do something immediately, our military will be after you.’

His fingers crush mine. I let out a hiss at the pain. That was a stupid thing for me to do.

‘You don’t understand,’ I say through the agony he is inflicting on me. ‘We might be isolated and in the middle of nowhere, but we do know about the Empire and no one is going to be happy that you are here.’

‘And exactly what do you intend to do about that?’ he asks.

‘Go to my office, make a phone call, and buy you enough time to make your repairs,’ I admit. ‘My uncle heads up Strategic Air Command. He’ll believe what I tell him.’

‘No tricks,’ Vader warns, tightening his hold on my hand in emphasis.

‘No tricks,’ I promise.

‘Go then,’ he orders, releasing my hand as he does so, ‘take me to your office.’

I waste no time in doing so, shaking my abused hand back to life as I walk. At least he didn’t break any bones. The interior of the research center is a maze of corridors and small offices, so I make sure that I take the most direct route.

‘Welcome to my messy second home, my Lord,’ I say as we reach my office, ‘have a seat. This might take a while.’

I have to shift a pile of journals off a chair and onto the floor to make a place for him, but he remains standing, arms across his chest. Definitely stubborn, I observe, as I flip through the rolodex and select the card I need. The phone is on the floor somewhere so I pull on the cord to identify its location. Time for an office clean-up, I think.

‘My Lord, we don’t have a reliable visual communication system yet,’ I explain, ‘only audio. I am going to use the speaker phone, so you can hear what Sam says, but you will need to be quiet because anything you say, they will hear. I will get you as much time as I can, but I am not going to promise you anything.’

There is no way to tell, but I can imagine an eyebrow of his going up at my comments.

I dial Sam’s secure line at NORAD and wait for the clicking which tells me my call has gone through before it starts ringing. His aide, Peter, answers and I ask for Sam before turning the speaker function on.

A few seconds later, his voice booms over the phone line, ‘How is that favorite professor of mine? Found any new black holes lately? Or maybe had one arrive in your own backyard? I assume you are calling about that fast moving object we tracked heading in your direction. Should have impacted pretty close to the observatory.’

‘Not a black hole, uncle,’ I pause, not really wanting to lie to him, ‘but a meteorite. I was planning on having a quick look in the morning.’ I am committed to my story now.

‘Want a few more sets of eyes? I could send a research crew up to help if you like,’ Sam offers.

Nope, that’s the last thing I want.

‘No, its mid-semester break and everything is shut up for the next week,’ I try putting him off. ‘There’s just me here to hold the fort and with the technical problems I have had today with telescope number two, I don’t think I will have the time to look at the impact site in detail until the staff are back. Maybe in ten days or so when David, my meteorite expert, is in and can supervise your troops?’

‘Sure about that? I have a team which could be there in two or three days,’ he offers.

I can almost hear the gears turning in Sam’s head. He is pretty good at knowing when I am up to something.

I glance at the calendar. It is early Friday morning. Monday has been decreed a holiday this year in honor of some dead politician. His men could be here on Saturday. I have no choice other than to compromise or he will act on his suspicions.

‘How about letting them have the weekend and Monday with their families?’ I suggest. ‘The meteorite isn’t going anywhere, and if I know David, he will be in the minute he knows about it. I won’t tell him until Monday night though or his wife will be furious. She has some romantic weekend planned.’

‘Very well,’ Sam acquiesces, ‘Tuesday it is. Anything else I can do for you?’

‘Not at the moment, no, though I would appreciate it if you kept things quiet about this for a while. I’d rather not have a bunch of meteorite chasers on my hands before I can have a look myself. Make sure you say hello from me to Lucy and your grandkids.’

My uncle’s easy laughter fills the room. ‘Yes, I can do that. Don’t forget you promised us a visit. Well, I won’t keep you from your work. Stay out of trouble now.’ He signs off and I cut the connection on my end.

I look up at the stranded Sith Lord and tell him, ‘I have just bought you four days, my Lord, so I hope you can get your fighter fixed in that time or we are both in for it.’

He makes no reply other than a nod and steps out of my office, heading unerringly back to his TIE. I can’t help being a little annoyed. At the very least he could have said thank you. With a sigh, I wander up to the computer room to shut the system down. It’s expensive to use and after Vader’s arrival, there is no point in running it all night.

I wiggle my bruised fingers while I debate for a few minutes what I should do next. He didn’t ask me to go with him to his ship, so maybe wandering outside for another look right away isn’t the best idea. Still, my scientific curiosity is in overdrive. Maybe I’ll quickly program a few co-ordinates into the old ‘scope and then go have another look at his ship. Perhaps he’ll be in a better mood and more talkative once he’s had a chance to figure out what’s wrong with it, too.

***

I leave Maia at her desk while I run my errand, glancing into various offices and labs as I pass them. From the look of things, this is a rather primitive planet. When I reach my destination, the panels at the bottom of the stairway, I stop. The larger one, judging from the shielding, is for power; the smaller, then, must be for communications. I open the latter, examine the wiring inside and disconnect the main line. Until I know more, I will not risk Maia making any unsupervised calls.

My next stop is my TIE. Contrary to what I told her, the engines are undamaged. It is the readings from the nav computer which do not make any sense. And I do not want her to know I am lost.

I rest my hand against the angled panel and debate my next move. This was supposed to be a simple, easy two hour jump from Fondor to Teyr in the nearby system of Surric.

Simple. Easy.

With my experience, I should know that those usually translate into complicated and difficult. Now I am temporarily stranded who knows where with a stubborn scientist and little contact with the Force.

Reaching out with my senses, I find that nothing has changed. The Force is almost nonexistent here - only traces, wisps spin around me, and I suspect those are generated by my own body. It is like peering into a deep, inky pool and seeing my own faint reflection looking back at me.

With a gesture, I lift a pebble and send it flying across the lawn. It does not go very far before falling to the ground. A second attempt with more power behind it goes a bit farther. So, I may be able to do more than I suspected. I will have to experiment with this later.

The sounds of something very large moving draws my attention, so I retrace my steps around the building and look upwards as the large dish rotates on its base. To be still using radiowaves for galactic mapping ... they must not have access to interstellar craft then, yet she knows who I am. Curious.

I turn about and tip my head up. She’s at the window, watching me observe her. With a wave of her hand, she retreats from my sight. Even after two lessons from me she is still impertinent, and what is more unusual, completely fearless.

For a moment, I consider my options. I need answers and there is only Maia here to supply them. She has been helpful thus far so there may be no reason to resort to anything more than careful questioning. And if not, there are other ways to extract the information I want.

***

The telescope obligingly moves into position and, as I look through the window, I can also see that I am not the only one watching it turn. Vader is standing outside, below me, gazing upward at the dish. He seems to sense my eyes on him and shifts his attention to me. I give a quick wave and step back from the window. That was fast. His TIE must be in fairly good shape then.

I decide to go see what I can do to help with the repairs.

He meets me halfway down the stairwell and from his position on it, we are at eye level. I look at the lenses of his mask, trying to see his eyes through them, but from this distance, there is only my own reflection to be seen in them. Rats. I want to know if they really are bright blue.

‘Is there something I can do to help fix your ship?’ I ask, then, to avoid more trouble, tack on, ‘My Lord.’

From his silence, he’s thinking about that, deciding what to tell me.

‘That depends,’ he admits, ‘on whether or not I can get the components I need and the gas mix which is required to restart the ion engines.’

‘There is a machining and tool shop out back with all kinds of junk in it and I can probably get raw materials for you if they are not too exotic,’ I offer, ‘We will have to go to my lab at the university to deal with the gas mix. If I know what the elements and compounds are, and they aren’t in stock at the university, I can have stuff brought in. Synthesizing compounds from scratch will be trickier, but still possible.’

‘You would do this for me?’ is his measured response.

‘I would help anyone in the same situation,’ I admit with a slight shrug. ‘You just happen to be the one who landed in my backyard.’

I look past him, to the doorway and add, ‘It’s going to be dawn in a few hours, my Lord, and we need to get your ship under cover or camouflaged somehow. While the observatory is a no-fly zone at night, we do get the occasional fly-over during the day, and with this being a holiday weekend, there could be more flights than normal.’

We make our way out of the building and around to where he has parked the TIE. I spend a few minutes walking around it, getting a good close-up view. He must have jumped to the ground from the top of the cock-pit when he first landed, before I came outside to have a look.

The entire time I am looking at his ship, Vader watches me, and he finally comments, ‘From your scrutiny, I have to assume that there is nothing like my TIE on your world.’

‘No,’ I admit, ‘our aircraft can only navigate in atmosphere, and the few space-faring ships we do have are designed purely for research. The farthest a manned ship has ever gone is to our moon. Faster than light craft are not available to us.’

‘Yet you are aware of the Empire and know who I am,’ the Sith Lord notes, curiosity in his voice.

Blast. This conversation is going in a direction I need to avoid. I have no idea when he is in the Star Wars timeline, and I had better not let him have any clue just how much I do know, which is considerable. Thankfully he can’t read or sense my thoughts with the Force or I would really be in trouble. Alright, time to derail this line of inquiry. ‘We might not be space-faring, but we have been visited by others who are.’

I don’t give him a chance to reply, but head straight for the workshop and junkyard. There should be some tarps and netting in storage that can be tossed over the TIE.

‘My Lord, let’s see what we can find to cover your fighter with,’ I call over my shoulder.

I unlock the workshop and yank the doors open. It is just as cluttered as when I had been inside it the previous afternoon. Heading to the very back corner, I start to systematically search the storage racks. Every time I find something which might be useful, I toss it onto the floor. The Dark Lord has followed me into the building and watches my progress with some interest.

When I finish ransacking the shelves, I ask, ‘Is that going to be enough to cover it with, my Lord, or is more required?’

‘That should be adequate, but I am not sure how you intend to drape them over my ship,’ Vader comments.

‘Can’t you just toss the tarps over top of it?’ I ask. There is something he is not telling me, and I suspect I know what it is. ‘Is there a problem with this?’

The Sith Lord does not respond to my queries. Finally, I give up on waiting for answers and start to drag a tarp out the door and to his ship. He steps in front of me to bar my progress, taking the tarp from me and adding several others to the pile before carrying them out to the TIE himself. Pleased that I have his help with this, I gather up the next batch and set to work. It takes about ten minutes to move all of the tarps and nets I had found out to the fighter. The next chore is to get them in position over top of it.

The TIE’s solar panels are about 5m high and the top of the cockpit about 4m off the ground. There is no way I can physically throw the tarps to that height due to their weight, so I wait patiently for Vader to do so with the Force.

When he makes no move to do as I expect him to, and I have stood there for several minutes, I ask the obvious question, ‘You can’t really feel the Force or use it here, can you?’

His head snaps around and he stares at me.

Now that I have his attention, I bravely continue, ‘There are no midichlorians on this world, or in this system even, except yours.’

The Sith Lord takes a few menacing steps towards me after I expose his weakness, but I refuse to feel threatened by him. I merely cross my arms over my chest and comment, ‘There’s no point in trying to intimidate me, Lord Vader, because Force or no Force, I am not the least bit frightened of you.’

‘That,’ he confirms, ‘has been apparent from the minute I met you.’

‘And?’ I prompt.

***

I consider how to answer this most infuriating woman. While it is embarrassing to be seen as weak and much faster to simply use the Force to cover my TIE, I do not want to reveal that advantage unless I must.

‘You are correct about my ... problem,’ I finally decide to admit.

‘So we do things the hard way, my Lord,’ she tells me, waving her hand towards the side of the building. ‘There’s a ladder or two in the shed, and a set of scaffold components piled next to the workshop.’

My eyes follow the direction she is pointing in. Metal frames with braces have been neatly stacked where indicated. Two levels of these should be sufficient to reach the top of my TIE. I walk over to have a closer look. They do not appear to be too heavy, so I lift one and carry it over to my fighter.

By the time I have the pieces for the first tier in place, Maia has retrieved a bucket and a few implements from the workshop. I pick one up and examine it.

‘It’s a wrench,’ she volunteers as she sorts through the metal bolts in the pail. The ones which fit the frame, she sets aside.

I give the tumbler an experimental spin. The design is simple yet efficient and practical. At least there is an engineer somewhere on this planet who appreciates a well-made tool. After a few minutes of examining the other tools she had selected, I realize that Maia is standing by the first bracket, waiting for me to finish.

‘The upper one, first,’ I decide, indicating the required metal brace.

She keeps the frame in position while I tighten one of the bolts which will hold the two pieces together. Time for me to start asking questions.

‘This planet,’ I ask, ‘what is its governing body?’

She looks puzzled for a second, then answers. ‘The United Nations - sort of.’

‘It either is, or isn’t,’ I scold, ‘so which is it?’

I take the next bolt from her fingers while I wait for her reply.

‘It really depends on your point of view, my Lord,’ she tells me, sounding a bit like my old master. ‘In some things, yes, they can create laws every national government who is a member is supposed to follow. But enforcing compliance with those rules is another thing entirely.’

They don’t have a cohesive, unified planetary government.

‘And where we are?’

‘Nationally?’ She wants clarification.

‘Yes,’ I respond as I finish with the second bolt.

‘Two houses of representatives: one elected, one appointed. The government is headed by a Prime Minister who is the leader of the party with the majority of seats in the former,’ Maia promptly answers.

‘Elsewhere?’

‘Depends where you are,’ she admits. ‘There is everything from democracies similar to ours, to constitutional monarchies and military dictatorships.’

They are completely fragmented politically. And probably incapable of working as a unit against an external threat. From that perspective, this planet would be simple to bring under the Empire’s control.

‘Social structure?’

Maia is quiet a moment. I move to the next brace and accept the bolt she hands to me.

‘That also depends on where you are, my Lord,’ she finally replies.

‘Here, then,’ I narrow the area, ‘tell me about the current social issues here.’

‘Poverty, homelessness, crime, employment, access to medical care and education,’ she lists, ‘but I think those are concerns everywhere.’

‘The Empire is no different in those respects,’ I reveal. ‘Tell me the specifics.’

I move to the second bracket and lift it from the ground. Maia steadies it and elaborates on each of the issues she listed while I anchor the two braces to it. There is little difference in the worries of the average person here and those in the Empire.

‘And other issues? What is currently in the news media?’ I ask.

She stops to think about that.

‘There was a large earthquake not long ago, but at the moment most of the international papers are filled with reports on the war.’

This is the perfect opening.

‘A war your country is involved in?’

She tries not to laugh as she shakes her head, ‘No, my Lord, our military force is very small. The politicians see it as mostly for show, peace keeping, and search and rescue operations. If they could be rid of it entirely to save money, I suspect they would do so.’

I pounce, throwing her own words back at her, ‘Yet your uncle is a man of some importance, and you were quite concerned your military would be after me.’

‘My Lord, we will need to get the ladders and planks for the scaffold’s platform before adding the next set of brackets,’ she tries to avoid answering my question by diverting my attention.

‘Maia,’ I coldly warn.

‘He’s a decorated war hero and superb tactician. Of course he’s important,’ she replies as she drags a ladder out of the shed.

My tone was enough to extract a bit more information, but not what I wanted or needed. She is still attempting to distract me. I take the ladder from her hands and set it aside. I will give her one more chance to co-operate. However, if an interrogation is required, then that is what I will do.

‘What is NORAD?’ I ask, leaving no doubt in my voice that she had better answer truthfully.

There is flash of something across her face, not fear but concern, which is quickly hidden.

‘North American Aerospace Defense Command,’ she defines.

‘And?...’ I lead her into a further explanation.

‘They are responsible for monitoring the airspace over this continent and reacting to any threats,’ she rather reluctantly reveals. ‘Darth Vader would certainly be seen as one.’

‘And your uncle is in control of it,’ I add.

‘Not entirely,’ another reluctant admission from her. ‘He handles tracking and threat evaluation. They act on his advice.’

And he will no doubt be furious with her when he finds out she lied to him - and she lied to him to protect me. Why?

‘Strength,’ I state, brushing my previous thoughts away in my rush to get answers. ‘Technology. Numbers of troops and fighters. I know you have no interstellar ships which would be a threat, but you will tell me what you know of your world’s military, Maia.’

I can see the war she is fighting with herself. She must make a choice now - either to tell me what I want to know or face whatever I might do to get it from her. Her eyes drop from my mask to the ground. Maia has given in to me.

‘I don’t know anything about numbers of troops or vehicles,’ she divulges, ‘but I can tell you about our technology...’

For the next hour we finish setting up the scaffold and I continue my interrogation. When she co-operates and gives me the answers I want, I relax a bit to encourage her to continue. Any time she becomes evasive, I remind her of the consequences with a change in my tone of voice and body language. Using my reputation is an effective tactic which has worked on prisoners before, and there is no need to resort to anything more with her.

Nor do I find myself wanting to.

She drags one of the folded tarps over to the base of the ladder and looks expectantly at me. It will be my task, then, to transport them from the ground to the upper platform and toss them over my ship. I take the first one from her hands and start to climb. When it is in place, I see her waiting for me to go back down for the second one.

‘It will be faster if you bring them up to me,’ I suggest, ‘while I position them.’

Maia goes a bit pale and stares at the ladder before finally setting a hand on it. I wait patiently for her to slowly make her way up.

‘It’s rickety,’ she explains when she reaches the top.

While she goes to retrieve the next one, I silently remove one of the rope ties from the tarp she has brought me and secure the top of the ladder to the wooden plank it is resting against. There is no sense in risking a fall, and from her descriptions of their technology, I would be in trouble if my armor’s life support systems were damaged.

It takes all six of the large tarps to adequately cover my fighter.

When the last is in place, I open the cockpit and lower myself into it to run a series of diagnostics. The nav computer is still returning readings that do not make any sense. I ignore that for the moment and start the detailed checks on the engines. These will take fifteen minutes and I need that time to think.

The computer beeps. The back-up systems for the ion drive are operating a hair below my standards. I can pull those out, tune them up and still be able to leave without them, if need be. They will be my ‘damaged’ engines, then.

I tip my head up and see Maia peering down at me. She’s curious and full of questions but I have not let her ask a single one and I know she is frustrated because of that.

I return my eyes to the screen in front of me. Maia has been useful, if stubborn and reluctant to supply details on their military. Not surprising, that, considering who I am. Her impudence is annoying, but I can break her of that easily enough. On the positive side, she is clever and has done nothing to hinder me.

And she is still completely unafraid of me.

I have not yet decided what I am going to do with her.

***

Vader has spent the last fifteen minutes running tests with his ship’s computer to determine exactly what the problems are, and I have been watching him through the access hatch. When he is finally satisfied with what he has found, dawn is peering over the mountains and I am not only tired, but covered with dust and cobwebs from digging around in the workshop. Time to go and do something else for a while.

‘You mentioned a gas mix for the engines, my Lord. I need to know exactly what is required so I can order things in. If I contact the suppliers this morning, they will deliver on Monday and I can blend the gases together for you in my university lab that afternoon. Let’s go to my office and sort this out.’ With that, I head off to my messy second home. As we make our way there, I chatter away. ‘I suspect the chemical notation we each use is different, but the Periodic Table should be the same so I will just have you mark off what elements you need based on their position on it and go from there.’

My office is in the same state of disarray that I left it in, so I pull the element chart off the wall and head across the hall to the coffee room. Vader follows me and takes a chair while I hurry about the room. Whoever was in here last left the table covered with mugs and newspapers, so I spend a few minutes tidying things up. I also start a pot of tea brewing because I have been awake for almost twenty-four hours and the lack of sleep is starting to take its toll. Caffeine is a must if I am going to stay on my feet and coherent. Once the table is dry, I lay the chart out on it and hand the Sith Lord a marker.

‘Please flag the elements and let me know if there are any specific isotopes that you need,’ I ask him.

He quickly complies with my request, adding his own notations in Aurabesh as he does so. By the time he is finished, my tea is ready, but I set it aside for the time being.

I retrieve a notebook from my office and list the elements which are circled. Most should be in stock at the university already if any old isotopic mix will work. Several are actually stored in my lab because they are used as carrier gases in the equipment I use to analyze minerals. So far, so good.

‘My Lord, are there any of these where the isotopes are critical?’ I need this information from him. ‘Almost all of what you have indicated is either in my lab or available on campus somewhere if the atomic masses are not important.’

‘The only element where that matters is this one,’ he tells me, pointing to hydrogen, ‘the engines use this with a mass of 2 rather than 1.’

‘Deuterium,’ I identify the isotope. ‘We use it combined with oxygen to form heavy water. It’s used in that compound to moderate nuclear reactions. It could be tricky to obtain it as an elemental gas. I will have to get on-line and see what’s available.’

Something begins to nag at the back of my mind. I sit back in my chair, worrying away at it for a few minutes. Finally, my tired brain drags it out of my memory.

‘One of my chemistry colleagues has been working with deuterium gas,’ I tell him, ‘but I don’t know exactly what he has been up to. I might have to send an e-mail to him and see.’

I pick-up the notebook and head back to my office, the Dark Lord close behind me. He moves to stand beside my chair and I shift a pile of marked mid-terms out of the way to make room for him. It takes a few minutes to fire up my laptop and log-on to the university mainframe. The Sith Lord watches me, obviously curious about what I am doing, but doesn’t ask any questions. Calling up an inventory reveals that all but the deuterium and neon gases are on campus. I try to send in a work order to have the tanks which are not in my lab moved into it and find that it requires a number of different forms. The electronic paperwork is starting to irritate me.

Vader notices my frustration, and asks, ‘Problems?’

‘No, my Lord,’ I grumble, ‘just the usual nonsense. Life is short, forms are long. Bureaucracy reigns supreme. Never leave something simple to paper pushers or they will have you spend more time filling in blanks than it takes to actually do what you are requesting.’

‘The Empire is no different,’ he reveals.

‘Why am I not surprised?’I reply, as the last work request finally goes through.

Next I shift to the internet and fill in an on-line order for a tank of neon, making sure to flag it as a rush delivery for Monday. The last chore is the deuterium gas. A quick web search produces a number of suppliers, but not one with any on hand for immediate shipping. Frustrated by my lack of success, I finally call up my colleague’s webpage to see what he has been working on. I start to smile. Nigel has been busy stockpiling exactly what we need for a project he is working on in the Nuclear Magnetic Resonance lab. There should be plenty stored in there. Question is, how am I going to get my hands on it? Somehow I don’t think he will just let me walk off with it, so I am going to have to break into his lab and steal it.

‘From the look on your face, I assume you have found the last gas which is required?’ the Sith Lord enquires.

‘Yes, my Lord,’ I confirm, still grinning, ‘and lots of it. The only problem is that I am going to have to steal it out of the lab which is next door to mine. I will need some time to figure out what will be the best way to get in there.’

Now it is time to go and fetch the tea I had brewed earlier, so I push myself to my feet and return to the coffee room. By the time I have poured out a mug’s worth, my lack of sleep has caught up with me, and I am leaning against the table using my hands to steady myself.

‘You are exhausted,’ the Dark Lord observes from the doorway.

I raise an eyebrow and let myself fall backwards into a chair.

‘This past week was full of mid-term exams, my Lord. Between marking those, dealing with panicking students who didn’t bother studying or showing up for classes, running this place without my assistant who is off sick, and trying to get a bit of research done, I have lost a fair amount of sleep,’ I admit. ‘As a graduate student, I guess I could get away with it, but not anymore.’

Do I ever feel old, I suddenly realize, and I am being an atrocious host as well.

‘Look, I don’t have any idea what you need to look after yourself, so if there is anything I can get for you,’ I offer, ‘just ask and I will do my best.’

‘I can manage for several days, if I must, without any problems,’ he replies, ‘but you need to get some sleep before you collapse.’

‘Can’t yet,’ I decide. ‘I have to know what else is required to fix your ship. If there is anything that has to be ordered in, it must be done immediately. So, tell me, my Lord, what do you need?’

‘Not much, actually, access to tools mostly. I can cannibalize part of the back-up systems in the TIE, but I need wire made of this metal if the connections are to work properly.’ The Sith Lord reaches over and circles platinum with the marker on the periodic table.

‘This enough?’ I ask, pulling off the only ring I am wearing and tossing it to him. He easily catches it, and turns the ring to where he can see the crest on it. ‘A signet ring from the university I graduated from,’ I tell him. ‘Replaceable. Go ahead and do what you need to it. If you require more, I can always swipe one of the platinum crucibles out of the high temperature lab at the university, but that requires a trip into the city.’

‘Sufficient,’ he concludes, tucking the ring away somewhere.

‘My Lord, there are tools and machining equipment out in the workshop where the tarps were stored. I haven’t locked it so you can get started right away if you like. If you don’t find what you need in there, it might be in one of the labs in this building, so just ask.’ My mug is finally empty, but I resist pouring myself more. ‘Before I go collapse in my apartment, I had better show you where it is.’

I manage to get to my feet without swaying too much, and add my mug to the pile in the sink.

The small apartment I call home is on the second floor of the Visitor’s Center building. Somehow I make it down the stairs, across the parking lot and to its door without falling asleep on my feet. I punch in the security code, making sure I leave the system deactivated, and wave the Dark Lord in ahead of me. I follow Vader through the entryway into the living room and switch the lights on. Unlike my office, I actually keep my home fairly tidy. There is just no space for clutter to build up in it. Everything is where it should be and thankfully all of my Star Wars related junk is packed away in the bedroom closet or I would be in trouble trying to explain it.

‘Living room,’ I identify, ‘kitchen is to the right, bath next to it, bedroom on the left. The door is unlocked, so if you need me for something just come in and wake me up. Feel free to have a nap in here yourself, if you need one. I will be up in eight hours or so to get the telescopes set up for tonight’s observations.’

I am tired enough that I am beginning to babble and sway a bit, and the Sith Lord has obviously noticed because he places a hand on my back and steers me to the couch.

‘It will take most of the day for me to pull the components out of the back-up systems,’ he admits, ‘so I should have no reason to disturb your rest. Go to sleep.’

There is something behind his last words; they are almost a command, and I find my eyes closing despite attempts to keep them open. Finally I give up.

***

She was exhausted enough that despite her strong willed temperament my suggestion worked. So, I can use voice manipulation. This could be most useful to me.

I move to where I can examine her more closely. Those lenses she wears over her eyes do her no favors. Without them, she would look much better. And how her hair is braided back does not suit her at all. I wonder if she does that deliberately.

Pulling my left glove off, I extend my hand and rest it against her temple. I cannot touch her mind from a distance, so perhaps direct contact might work. Instantly, I yank it back, surprised by what I find. Her mind is hidden from me behind a glass-like barrier. Any attempts to get in slide off of it.

No midichlorians in me, she had said. I know now she was telling the truth about that.

I return my hand to her temple and send my senses around her mind once more. Something grabs at me, so I draw my hand back again, preventing it from taking hold. Curious. And most unusual.

She was once bonded to someone and that tie was suddenly severed. The paths in her mind are intact, if empty, and will pull in anyone she has strong feelings for. I give her a measuring look. Obviously she has strong feelings of some sort for me, so it would be most unwise to try touching her mind again. The next time I might not escape as easily.

I replace my glove and go to my fighter, leaving Maia to sleep for a while. She will be unable to help me if she is exhausted.

The workshop is a mess. Disgusted, I survey the cluttered workbench. How can anyone be expected to work in this disaster area? My hands automatically begin returning the various tools to their places marked on the wall and in the storage chest. They are of no use to me anyway. Once the bench is clear, I go to my fighter.

It takes several minutes to retrieve the tool kit I keep on board and remove the access panels. I know every detail of my TIE’s engines, having designed them myself. With a finger, I trace the systems I need to remove. This should be a simple task and the Devastator’s techs have been meticulous in keeping everything clean and in order. They know I would accept no less from them. I select the hydrospanner I need and set to work.

When both systems have been laid out on the bench, I start disassembling them into their individual components. Partway through my chore, I stop and stare at the energy damper in my hands. Life always seems simpler when I am fixing something. All my problems narrow down into the task in front of me and I can ignore the rest of the universe for a time.

I set the damper down and consider my situation.

Maia’s technical description of where I am is completely unfamiliar to me and this system is not listed in my TIE’s databank. I am completely lost and cannot use the malfunctioning nav computer or the Force to guide me back.

I hold my breath as realization hits.

I may be permanently stranded on this Force-forsaken world.

My respirator forces an inhalation.

And if I am? What life is there here for a Sith Lord who cannot use the Force? A Commander with no soldiers? A man who will be a curiosity, alone, more isolated than in the Empire, even?

I shut my eyes and touch the Force within myself, asking it to show me what my future might hold. A myriad of paths appear, some lead to death or imprisonment, others to a life on this world ... but alone, alone, always alone.

Am I to be forever cursed with living my life alone?

I clench my left hand and look at it. Obi-wan saw to that. First he took my angel from me, then he destroyed my life. My limbs are not my own - I am forever crippled, forced to wear this armor outside my meditation pod or special quarters, horribly burned, scarred... I cannot bear to look at myself, so how can I expect someone else to? What woman would want to touch me? Would want me to touch her?

I hurl the hydrospanner in my hand across the workshop. It makes a satisfying crash against the wall.

It isn’t fair, but life isn’t fair. Has never been fair.

After a few minutes, I retrieve the hydrospanner and return to dismantling the drive system. Life is so much easier when I am working.

***

When I wake up in the middle of the afternoon, six hours later, I discover that I am still on the couch with my head on the armrest, and have a cramp in my neck because of it. Falling asleep in that position was a mistake. At least he didn’t pack me into the bedroom. I find the idea of anyone getting that close to me and him, in particular, embarrassing to say the least. Despite the strong urge to go crawl into bed and sleep longer, I have to get up and mobile. Well then, time for a hot bath to ease the pain in my neck so I haul myself off the couch and head to the tub.

While there is nothing better than a hot soak, I can’t stay in the water all day, so wrapping my hair in a towel and myself in a long robe, I head to the kitchen to brew some tea and scare up something to eat. A few minutes later I let my hair fall out of the towel and down my back so it can dry. I will braid it up later, I decide, there is no need to hurry.

The mountains around the observatory prevent any radio or television signals from reaching my apartment, so for entertainment, I usually toss a cd or two on instead. Handel, I decide, Rinaldo, second act, and Solomon, third act. Even though I like Baroque opera, today I remove the vocal track from the playback and just listen to the orchestral accompaniment. When the first cd reaches Almirena’s aria, a favorite of mine, I give in and sing along with the music as I putter about the kitchen. This is something I have not done much of in years, and my voice unfortunately shows it. Who cares, I think, I feel content today, happier than I have been in a long time, and there are no critics around to spoil things.

Then I head into the living room and discover that I have had an audience after all. The Sith Lord has probably been there for a while, too, given that he is seated in the most comfortable chair in the place with his feet propped up on the coffee table. We stare at one another for a long moment.

Finally, I ask, ‘Just how long have you been there?’

‘Long enough,’ he answers, ‘to hear someone who sounds better than most of the so called divas I have had to endure listening to at the Opera House on Imperial Center.’

My mouth drops open and I quickly shut it. Flattery now? From him? I give him an odd look.

‘You, my Lord, must be joking,’ I decide.

‘Of course I am joking,’ he scolds. ‘You are in desperate need of practice.’

‘Not that it would help much, anyway,’ I quietly admit. ‘My brother used to compare my voice with two squalling cats, tails tied together and thrown over a fence. The audience would fling stuff at me if I ever went on stage.’

I know I can’t sing very well - I just do so in private to amuse myself. Or to torture my family as Michael would often tell me.

‘No,’ he agrees, ‘you could never succeed on stage, but there is an honest quality in your voice which their more synthetic ones lack.’

Darth Vader, opera critic? Somehow this just doesn’t fit my image of the man.

‘Thank you, my Lord,’ I say while trying to figure out what he is up to now. Finally my curiosity wins and I decide to see if he will let any more information out, so I ask, ‘When would you have the time to go to the theater? I thought you spent all your time chasing rebels.’

‘The Emperor on occasion attends opening nights, and usually insists I accompany him if I am on planet. Why, I don’t know,’ he admits.

I wander over to the couch and take a seat next to his chair, setting my mug of tea down in front of me. Maybe Palpatine likes to torture his apprentice by forcing him to listen to opera. It’s rather obvious that the Sith Lord doesn’t like it.

Since he seems to be in a conversational mood, I venture, ‘Is the music similar to what I have playing?’

‘The language you used is not familiar to me, nor is the musical style,’ he reveals. ‘What is currently in fashion in the Empire tends to be less sophisticated, loud, high, rather crude in comparison. I prefer what you have selected.’

More like Italian operas of the last two centuries, than the earlier Baroque ones, from his description. While I try to think of how to answer him, I reach over for my tea. My robe slips briefly and I yank it back too late to prevent him from seeing my feet and lower legs.

‘Maia,’ he quietly notes, ‘you have been badly burned. What happened?’

I shut my eyes. This is something I don’t like to talk about or remember, but from the interrogation about the state of our military while covering up his TIE, I know that he will persist in questioning me until he has an answer. To my surprise, his hand gently brushes across my cheek, and I let out the breath I have been holding in. If anyone is capable of understanding this, it is him.

‘It happened fifteen years ago when I was a graduate student. I was working in a lab preparing powdered rock samples for analysis. Some of the minerals will only dissolve in boiling acids of various types so I was dealing with some very nasty stuff. It was late in the afternoon and one of the other students had been in earlier in the day to refill the bottles I was using. He put perchloric and hydrochloric acids into the wrong containers, and I mixed my solutions without knowing what he had done. Everything was fine until I went to check on how the samples were progressing. Lifting the protective panel on the fume hood caused just enough difference in temperature to trigger a reaction and several of the larger beakers exploded.’

My hands are shaking a bit now, so I carefully set the mug back on the table to avoid spilling it. Once I am a bit more steady, I continue. ‘The glass door protected my face, and my lab coat most of the rest of me, but the boiling acid splattered it and ran down over the lower part of my legs and feet. The backs of my hands were also coated. I ran to the emergency shower to try and wash it off. I wasn’t quick enough though, to prevent myself from being scarred and suffering nerve damage. Luckily my hands healed without much visible evidence of what happened. It was months before I could walk without pain...’ I let my voice drift off into silence.

The pain had been excruciating, both at the time of the burn and after, but I had never once screamed or cried out, had stoically suffered through it, never allowing myself to show anyone how it affected me. “Ice Maiden” they had named me after that and so I remain.

The Sith Lord waits patiently for me to finish, and after a minute or two, I do so, ‘Later, much later, I found out that the other student knew exactly what he had done. Everyone claimed it was an accident, that he had been taking drugs which affected his judgement. I knew better, but could never prove it. He was the department’s darling who could do no wrong. I was the upstart child genius who threatened his position. They never even gave him a slap on the wrist for what he did.’

***

I see the scars on her feet despite her quick move to hide them and know she has been badly burned.

Scarred. Burned.

Much like my own injuries. I wonder if she will tell me what happened.

‘Maia,’ I quietly say, ‘you have been badly burned. What happened?’

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her discomfort is painfully apparent.

I understand this. If someone asked me the same question, my reaction would be similar, but deadlier. When she remains silent, I brush her cheek with my hand, letting her know by my touch that I know what I am asking her to relive and to also encourage an answer.

As I listen to the story she tells, my anger builds.

Someone did this to her? Deliberately? Because they were jealous of her abilities? And they never paid for what they did?

Just as Obi-wan had done to me. Except he finally did pay, on the Death Star, at my hands.

I understand. Oh, I understand all too well what happened to her. And why.

She moves to flee to her bedroom, to isolation and safety, but I am faster. I step into her path, stopping her retreat with my body.

There is nothing I can do to erase her memories, but there is one thing I can do.

Am willing to do.

Just this once.

And only for her.

I wrap my arms around her, sweeping my cloak around her back. She stays there, in my embrace, trembling in reaction to the terrible pain I just made her relive. Pain so very much like my own.

‘I understand,’ I tell her. ‘I understand what it is to be singled out as gifted, special. In the Jedi temple, as a child, as a padawan, they held me up to an impossibly high standard - one no one, not even myself, could ever hope to meet. I was supposed to be their ‘Chosen One’ who was the perfect Jedi. In reality I was just a boy with an unusual talent.’

Maia is still shivering, but I know she has heard every word I said.

‘They didn’t even want to accept me at first. I was too old, too attached, too strong and too dangerous to be trained. It wasn’t until they realized they couldn’t afford to let me go my own way that they reluctantly assigned me to a master. A master who saw me as a burden to be borne. A master who held me back out of jealousy.’

She is quieter now, silent, listening intently to me.

‘And eventually, when I found someone who would give me the training the Jedi refused to, my old master turned on me. Fought with me. Left me for dead. Condemned me to live my life trapped in this armor. So you see, Maia, I know what someone’s jealousy can drive them to do.’

Not exactly the truth, but she doesn’t need to hear that.

‘I understand,’ I repeat.

‘Thank you,’ she whispers in return and starts to pull away.

I tighten my hold on her. This is the first time I have held someone in almost two decades, and I am curious if she will voluntarily remain where she is.

‘Stay,’ I offer, ‘for as long as you need to.’

To my shock, she does.

***

Part of my mind is having a fit, warning me to run away, but I don’t care. This is the first time anyone outside of my family and two dearest friends has shown more than a passing concern for what happened to me, and I know he does understand, having gone through far worse himself. Hesitating for only a few seconds, I let my hands slip, from where they are caught between my chest and his, to down and around his waist, just above his belt. I rest my cheek against his shoulder, feeling the soft material of his robes against my skin. He shifts his arms and balance in response to my actions, and the steady sound of his breathing soothes me. I realize that I am quite content to stay exactly where I am. There is security here and a sense of rightness, belonging, which puzzles me.

To my surprise, I find myself beginning to drift off, still sleep deprived. Wake up, I scold myself, falling asleep in Darth Vader’s arms is not going to look very good, now is it? I hear him chuckle, as he realizes that I am dozing off, and before I can protest, I am carefully picked up and carried into my bedroom. After he sets me down on the bed, my glasses are lifted from my face and put aside on the night table.

As he pulls the covers back over me, he comments, ‘I had hoped to get some sleep myself, but it can wait. You obviously need it more than I do.’

I catch his hand to stop him from leaving.

‘You are probably just as exhausted as I am,’ I observe, ‘and there’s room for two. I don’t steal blankets, and I think we are both old enough to act like adults. Get in, and don’t argue about it either.’

The Dark Lord stares at me for a long moment, then laughs quietly, before teasing, ‘I won’t then since you are determined to have me in your bed.’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ I retort, ‘and you know it.’

This just makes him laugh louder. Frustrated now, I hurl a pillow, which he easily avoids, in his direction.

‘You are such a brat,’ I grumble into my pillow as I pull the covers up over my head. Thankfully, he doesn’t hear my last comment.

I hear the sound of fabric being tossed aside and guess he has taken off his cloak and thrown it somewhere. Curious, I peer out from under the sheets and see the Sith Lord standing at the opposite side of my bed.

He unhooks his lightsaber and sets it on the table next to the bed before glancing over at me and asking, ‘I trust your offer is still open?’

Rather than reply verbally and get teased some more, I reach over and pull back the covers on the other side of the bed.

‘I assume that’s a yes,’ he adds as he lays down beside me, adjusting his pillow to allow for his helmet.

Maia, my conscience warns, you are getting into dangerous waters here, watch yourself. Oh, I talk back to myself, it’s not like he can do anything with his armor on. Or can he? None of the books or movies ever mentioned anything about the Sith Lord’s personal life, so I am completely in the dark here. Careful then, you might discover more than you can handle. Better be cautious here.

‘I have not shared a bed in years,’ he tells me, ‘and my reflexes are such that I could easily hurt you if I am startled. Since you are determined to have me here, I will either have to consciously disable my defenses, which I would rather not do, or hold you in my arms where I can’t do you injury before I am awake and aware.’

I guess I don’t have much choice here other than to go sleep on the couch, but I am beginning to wonder exactly what he is up to. His behavior this afternoon has been, well, different than what I had expected. I wonder, can his disconnection from the Force have something to do with it? A puzzle to worry away at tomorrow I decide.

‘What do you want me to do?’ I finally ask.

‘Turn on your side facing away from me and I will do the rest,’ he instructs.

I quickly comply, giving the tie on my robe a tug to make sure it will stay on, and wait. A minute later, I am pulled backwards into the Sith Lord’s chest and held tightly to him, one arm wrapped securely around my waist, and the other under my head and folded across my chest, with the upper part of his arm acting as my pillow.

‘Comfortable?’ he checks, accepting my nod as a yes, ‘Good, we should both get some sleep now.’

I listen to his regulated breathing like I did earlier and let the sound of it lull me into drowsiness. At some point, my dream filled mind hears him quietly comment to himself, ‘Maìá, my little goddess,’ but like most things I dream, I have no memory of it when I wake.

The telephone is ringing. Blast it all. I open my eyes and find that I am still wrapped in Vader’s arms. Remembering his warning, I am careful not to move and disturb him. A quick look at the clock reveals that we both have slept five hours into the late evening. So much for the observations tonight - I am now two days behind schedule. Rather than answer the phone, I just let it ring.

‘Shouldn’t you do something about that?’ he asks before I can stop him, sleep still clouding his speech.

‘I left it in voice activated mode,’ I whisper to the Sith Lord.

‘Maia?’ Nigel answers over the phone line, in his thick Australian accent. ‘Is that you? You weren’t in your office or any of the labs at the university, and there seems to be something wrong with the line into the observatory. Are you all right? And who on earth do you have with you?’

‘I’m fine Nigel, just decided to get a bit more sleep,’ I tell him. ‘One of my friends, a researcher from CERN is visiting me. Now, what do you want?’

As soon as my words are out, I know I am in trouble. My chemistry colleague is the world’s biggest snoop and gossip.

‘Sleep or something else?’ he slyly comments. ‘Has the Ice Maiden finally found someone to melt her frozen heart?’

Furious at his implication, all I can do is snap, ‘That’s none of your business!’

‘I must be right if I am getting that sort of reaction out of you!’ Nigel gleefully observes.

‘Who are you talking to?’ the Dark Lord breaks in.

‘One of my exceedingly annoying colleagues from the university,’ I tell him, then direct at Nigel, ‘one who had better shut-up about my personal life if he knows what’s good for him!’

‘What personal life?’ Nigel needles, ‘everyone knows you have never had one - until now that is!’

‘Either you tell me what you want Nigel, or I am going to cut the connection,’ I threaten.

‘You never replied to the invite for the Alumni and Faculty party on Monday,’ he whines in reply. ‘Everyone else is going to be there, so are you going to show up or not?’

Party. I had completely forgotten about that.

‘Well, Maia,’ Nigel prompts, ‘we all want to see what you will come up with this year.’

I still remain silent, wondering what he is going on about.

‘Oh, come on, Maia, surely you haven’t forgotten it’s the Winter Costume Ball?’ Nigel divulges, sounding a touch frustrated with me.

‘Actually, I had,’ I admit. This is going to solve the problem of how to get the Sith Lord on campus. Perfect! ‘Well, I suppose...’ I start to answer.

‘Good, I’ll see you there. Any hints on what you will be wearing?’Nigel asks, fishing about for information.

I turn myself over to face Vader, who is now leaning on one arm with his other still draped over my waist.

‘How would you like to go to a costume party?’ I ask him, keeping my voice below where the microphone will pick it up. ‘It’s the perfect way to get you on campus without anyone making a fuss about it. We can go into the lab and mix the gases before or after, your choice.’

‘Go to a costume party? As who?’ he asks, puzzled.

‘Yourself of course, my Lord,’ I tell him. ‘Everyone knows who you are and no one would ever believe you are here anyway, so it is the perfect cover. I just have to come up with something for myself which will fit with you theme-wise. Maybe I should dress as one of your officers.’

Raising his voice so that Nigel can hear, the Sith Lord states, ‘Maia and I will be attending as Lord and Lady Vader.’

What did he say? Is he nuts? I can’t believe what I have just heard.

‘I knew it!’ Nigel chortles happily. ‘Maia has finally found herself a boyfriend!’

I bury my face in my hands. This is rapidly becoming a disaster.

‘No,’ I moan miserably. ‘Oh, no, I can’t believe this is happening to me.’

‘Just wait until I tell ...’ Nigel starts, but I cut him off with, ‘If you say one word to anyone, Nigel, you will regret it!’

Still laughing, Nigel continues, ‘....everyone! I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you two were doing. See you on Monday!’

He hangs up then, and I am left thinking rather murderous thoughts at both him and the Sith Lord beside me.

‘Do you have any idea how much trouble you have just created for me?’ I ask, dismayed, ‘Nigel is the worst gossip at the university. I am never going to live this down!’

‘He seemed determined to put me in the role of your mate and it will be easier to explain my presence if I am, so why not play along with it?’ the Dark Lord logically concludes.

Why not? I ask myself, then disclose, ‘Because he will enjoy repeating what just happened for the next six months until something else more entertaining comes along! The fact that he thinks he interrupted something will only make it worse.’

‘Which will also ensure that anyone we encounter at the university will not question why I am there with you,’ he cooly states. ‘You are becoming far too distressed over this.’

I am obviously not going to win this argument.

‘Fine, then,’ I concede, ‘but I hope you know how to dance, my Lord, because I don’t.’

‘Dance? Surely you don’t expect me to do that?’ he incredulously asks.

‘Since you have decided to play my boyfriend,’ I remind him, ‘you will have to dance with me at least once or people will notice.’

I can tell he is not particularly happy with this notion, so I tease him a little, ‘Worried about that, are you? Just be glad that for the first hour or so the music will be of the ballroom type, with simple set patterns and steps. Later on in the evening they will have the loud obnoxious stuff the kids prefer.’

‘Very well, then. I will teach you what I know tomorrow,’ the Sith Lord offers, not the least bit perturbed. ‘Now it is late and I am still tired, so if you want to stay here with me, you know what you need to do.’

‘Yes, dear,’ I tease as I turn back onto my other side, pulling his arm tight around my waist as I do so.

Once I am settled, my head back on his arm, the Dark Lord takes his hand from my waist and runs one finger down the side of my face.

‘Impertinent child,’ he calls me with a touch of amusement in his voice, before returning his hand to its former position.

We are both asleep within minutes.

Sat. Feb. 10.

Light is shining through the window onto my face, so I know it is just after dawn in the early morning. I am still held tightly to the Sith Lord’s chest and there is no indication from him that he is awake yet. It is nice and warm next to him, and I feel secure and content in his arms. I wonder if this is what it would always be like, then yank my mind away from this thought. Dangerous, Maia, don’t go there. You have been happy being alone and by yourself, no need to invite trouble into your life. Don’t forget he is leaving on Monday, and probably will never think of you again once his fighter is off the ground. But I can allow myself to daydream a little bit, I decide. What would it be like to be his wife, his Lady? If the Empire’s military is similar to those on Earth, I would be left behind at his castle, by myself, for months at a time. A lonely existence, I conclude, and a dangerous one given the intrigues of the nearby court. Then there is the Emperor to deal with. No, better to not even consider what it might be like. I will have three more days to learn about him, so I will enjoy his company as much as I can. I smile a little to myself as I remember he has promised to teach me how to dance. Now that will be interesting.

‘You are awake, aren’t you?’ the Dark Lord notes, sounding not quite conscious himself. ‘And have been deep in thought if I am not mistaken. What about?’

‘You don’t know?’ I ask.

‘Of course not. I can’t touch your mind, only observe your physical reactions,’ he answers, sounding a bit irked at my forgetfulness. ‘I would not have asked if I already knew.’

How to answer this? I don’t think he would be too impressed if I disclosed my private musings about being his wife, so I decide to tease him instead.

‘Dancing lessons,’ I tell him.

His response is to tighten his grip on my waist and pull me around to face him. ‘That’s not all, I suspect. I expect to be told the truth when I ask a question, so out with it.’

‘Why? I doubt that my silly daydreams would be of any interest to you.’ Careful Maia, I warn myself, or you will be in trouble here.

‘Tell me anyway,’ he insists, and I feel his hand move from my waist to rest on my hip. The other arm, which had been under my head now is folded across my back, his hand touching my arm. I am still held in place, I realize, and had better say something before he gets angry with me.

‘I was wondering about life in the Empire, my Lord, that’s all,’ I confess.

Close enough to the truth, I hope, to escape further questioning.

‘You are only telling me half-truths, Maia, and I am sure I know what the rest is,’ he snaps, sounding irritated. ‘If you must speculate about my personal affairs, either be honest with me about it or desist in it altogether.’

***

Impudent, insufferable woman, I think angrily as I shove her away. If I wasn’t in a position where I needed her help to leave this miserable planet, I would do something to permanently fix her insolence.

I grab my lightsaber from the table, my cloak from the back of the chair, and storm out before I do something I regret, letting the external door slam closed after me.

I keep walking away from the observatory until I reach a ridge overlooking a dry lake bed. The white salts gleam in the bright morning light. With a gesture, I lift a rock and hurl it from my vantage point towards the lake below. It goes no farther than the pebble did the day before. Frustrated, I repeat my experiment, letting my anger fuel my use of the Force. There is little change in the results. Light side or dark - it makes no difference here in what I can do.

I let my hand drop and brood a little. If I am to leave this place, I must find out where this system is, and Maia is the only means I have to uncover this information.

With the Force I angrily toss another stone away.

I can’t read their script, have no idea how their society really functions, and the only person I know is a stubborn scientist.

A fourth stone makes its way to the lake bed below.

You really need to evaluate your situation, I remind myself, before you do anything else as foolish as what you did yesterday.

What was I thinking?

You weren’t thinking, I scold myself. You acted on impulse and let your weaker emotions get the better of you. And you know that always gets you into trouble.

Boyfriend she called me in jest. That was a stupid mistake, putting myself into that role, even if it is only a pretense for some party. And what I did earlier was even more foolish, but after so many years without any personal contact it felt good to just hold someone - to hold her, to comfort her. And she stayed. She didn’t struggle, didn’t fight to get away from me. Even when I gave her the option of leaving, she didn’t.

She stayed.

Then she invited me into her bed, and let me hold her through the night, trusting me completely. She slept soundly in my arms, never waking, never stirring, never showing any sign that my presence disturbed her. It was like she belonged there, beside me, like she had always been there, like she should always be there ...

I cut that thought off.

Maia is not Padme. I will never be able to replace my angel. Never have a female companion, never have the family I wanted. There is no point in even considering such a relationship.

I need her help, nothing more.

I send another rock flying down towards the lake.

Then why do I feel like I am lying to myself?

***

That was just brilliant Maia, I chide myself, get him angry at you. I sit up in bed and pull my knees into my chest. Time to have another thinking session. Was he really annoyed at me, I wonder, or upset with himself instead? That statement about not sharing a bed in years suggests that he has not let anyone get as physically close to him as I have been in a long, long time. Perhaps not since before Padme’s death even? And that scene with Nigel - he actually put himself into a boyfriend’s role willingly, without any qualms at all. If he is starting to emotionally put me into Padme’s place, then he is not going to have an easy time dealing with those feelings, and I will have to tell him .... Nope, Maia, you really, really don’t want to go there. That sort of relationship is out of the question and the last thing you want to deal with is a Sith Lord in the midst of an emotional crisis.

Well, his behavior has certainly not been consistent with what one would expect based on the movies and books. Vader has actually been, well, more human and like a real person, likeable to a certain extent, even. That’s your own bias, I admit to myself, you have always been rather fond of him and able to relate to his complex character and personality. And how much of his behavior is affected by the Force? If he has no connection to it, then perhaps the dark side has less of a hold on him. It must certainly be driving him to distraction to not be able to feel or use it.

This tantrum, though, what was behind it? Surely not concern over my idle speculations and daydreams. Perhaps he found himself getting a little too close, a bit too attached and it scared him? I roll this thought around my brain. Darth Vader, afraid to admit he likes or might be friends with someone? Based on my limited knowledge of the man’s psychology, this sounds and feels right. He doesn’t let anyone get too close to him, and I don’t ever recall reading about someone he might call ‘friend.’ So, problem identified. Now, what are you going to do about it? Go and track him down, I decide, and apologize. Then see what he does and go from there.

I hop off the bed and open up my closet. While I tend to wear casual clothes at work, and business suits to lectures, this I think, requires something a bit more formal. Time to see what might be usable for the party on Monday as well. Digging through the rack produces my Jedi knight outfit, which I quickly bury in the back, out of sight, and several medieval gowns I have worn to SCA events and Renaissance Faires. I toss the simple blue one onto the bed. With a belt, it will do for my purposes today. The other ones I have found quickly join it. Since I have no idea what ‘Lady Vader’ might wear, I will let the Sith Lord pick something out.

A few minutes later, I am dressed in the blue gown, wrapped in my deep green cloak and heading out the door to find the Dark Lord. He is not with his fighter or anywhere in the observatory complex. I start to scan the horizon with my eyes, and finally spot him to the south, standing on the ridge overlooking the dry lake, with his back to me. It is a fair distance to hike, so I set off immediately, pacing myself so that I won’t be winded when I arrive. I also try to form a formal apology in my head. The last hundred meters, I am careful to stomp on a few twigs. Creeping up on him is probably a very bad idea.

‘You are making enough noise, Professor, to alert just about anyone to your presence,’ he comments, keeping his back to me, his thumbs hooked into his belt.

‘Intentionally, yes,’ I admit, ‘sneaking up on you is probably not a wise thing to do, my Lord.’

Formal mode, need to do this on his terms, I remind myself, as I draw alongside of him and look outwards, following his gaze. The wind catches both our cloaks, swirling the fabric around us. There are small dust devils of dried salts being blown across the dry lake. This time of year there is no water, no birds, nothing alive in the valley where the observatory is located except sage brush and the odd cactus.

‘Indeed not, as the few who have tried have unfortunately discovered,’ Vader replies. ‘So, doctor, what brings you out here?’

‘An apology, my Lord,’ I begin, ‘an apology for being less than truthful with you.’

Please don’t let him press me for details. Having to admit what I was thinking will be embarrassing to say the least. I keep my eyes on the lake, my face calm.

‘And are you prepared to be honest now?’ he asks.

He would ask that. Blast. No help for it though.

‘Yes, my Lord,’ I quietly decide.

‘Then tell me what you were thinking this morning,’ he prompts.

Be honest, tell him the truth, I remind myself, even if you feel stupid afterwards.

‘I have always been alone, my Lord, and it was odd waking up wrapped in your arms. So, I started wondering what life as your wife would be like, if we would be separated when you were on your flagship,’ I admit. ‘What the Imperial court and life on Coruscant are like. Foolish things. That’s all.’

The Sith Lord is silent for a long time after my admission, and I start to wonder if he is ever going to speak to me again.

***

She wants to know what life would be like as my wife?

Of all the things she could have confessed to, this one I would never have expected. So she must be telling the truth. Now, how do I answer her?

I turn a little and study her face. She is trying to conceal her discomfort with what she just disclosed. With great caution, I reach my senses out towards her, only to confirm what I had already found. Force help me. I was right about her strong feelings for me.

This is a most unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, development.

I shift my attention back to the lake while I debate what to do.

My eyes glance back at her again. Maia is plain featured, but not unpleasantly so. She is more than clever enough to be my match in the intellectual arena, and I could live with her attempts at singing if I had to. The only real problems are her stubbornness and impertinence. And with time I can train both of those out of her.

I stare out at the lake again.

I wanted a mate and it appears I have found someone who might be suitable, and more importantly, willing, in the most unlikely of places. It will be good to have a companion I can live with if I am forced to spend the rest of my life here.

But in this, I must not make a mistake, so I will test her, I decide. I cannot touch her mind so she will have to prove her fearlessness, loyalty, and love for me in other ways. There is no time to waste with this. I will begin my challenges for her immediately.

Right now, though, she needs an answer.

***

Finally, he turns to look at me and says, ‘Perhaps not so foolish.’

With that he spins on his heel and heads back to the observatory, leaving me standing there, feeling totally lost. What the hell did he mean by that? Somehow I don’t think he is going to elaborate on that remark, and I know I am not going to ask for clarification.

With a sigh I turn to follow him. He has a decent head start and is moving far quicker than I can keep up with. I try to pick up my own pace, and end up with my feet caught in the long skirt of the gown I am wearing. Before I can untangle myself, I am falling. Throwing my hands out to catch myself, I land on my knees, with my left hand slammed into a cactus patch. Blast it all, I think as I push myself back onto my heels, that hurt. I carefully examine my hand. There is a large prickly pear stuck firmly into it with a dozen or so spikes driven deep into my palm. I will need to get back to my apartment and look after this quickly.

First step, get up. I shift the skirt out of the way with my uninjured hand and try to get to my feet, but I am too shaky to make it on my first attempt. Get a hold of yourself, Maia, I tell myself, it’s just a little cactus. By the time I am ready for a second try, the Sith Lord has walked back to where I am sitting on the ground and has dropped to one knee in front of me.

‘What have you done to yourself?’ he asks.

‘Cactus,’ I answer, holding my hurt hand out to him. ‘Have to get the spikes out before my hand festers from the poison.’

Before I can stop him, he grabs my arm with his left hand and rips the cactus off with his right. I let out a hiss at the pain before I can control myself, and try to yank my hand away. There are still half a dozen spikes left in it and the ones he did remove have left large bleeding holes.

‘The spikes are barbed,’ I tell him, ‘you have to use pliers or they break off, and I really don’t want to cut my hand open to get them out.’

He releases my hand in response and pulls off his right glove. Prosthetic hand my memory prompts. My hand is now held securely in his left while he pulls the remaining spikes out of it with his right. I stoically bear the pain as he works, determined not to let out a sound.

‘Your pain control is impressive for someone with no training or access to the Force,’ he notes as he yanks a barb out.

He’s trying to distract me from what he is doing with small talk.

‘I have had lots of opportunity to practice, trust me,’ I admit.

‘Explain,’ the Dark Lord orders.

‘Children are cruel to those who are different,’ I calmly state. ‘I learned very quickly that any reaction at all just made it go on longer. Even if I am badly injured I can control my responses, but it makes other people uncomfortable. They expect you to scream when you dislocate your shoulder and break bones...’

‘Or burn yourself badly?’ he breaks in. Another spike is removed while he speaks.

‘That too. I never let on how much that hurt,’ I admit. ‘Not at the time nor during the four months it took the burns to heal. The other students started calling me the Ice Maiden after that.’

‘The same title your colleague used?’ he questions as he pulls out a third needle.

Best to be honest about the nickname I hate so much, I decide.

‘Yes, but for different reasons. I don’t let anyone get close to me, and I trust very few people. Experience has taught me to be wary,’ I disclose. ‘Nigel is convinced that if he finds the right person he could change that. You would not believe the number of his friends he has tried to set me up with, without any success. I refused to meet any of them. He is probably rather irked that you have decided to be my boyfriend.’

He waits until I am finished, then the last spike is pulled, and my hand is a bleeding mess. I try to take it from the Sith Lord, but he holds it tight and comments, ‘Given your personality and what you have just told me, I find it amazing that you have not only offered to help me, but actually trusted me enough to let me into your bed.’

‘That’s different,’ I blurt out. Oops Maia. Another blunder to deal with.

‘How so?’ he questions.

Truth? I had better tell him enough of it to prevent another blow up.

‘You have a reputation for being honorable, my Lord, having a personal code you stick to. I know you won’t break that as long as I stay within it myself. And I trust you,’ I admit.

He makes no immediate response to my disclosure, but studies the wounds in my hand instead.

‘Trust, Maia,’ he finally states, ‘can be a dangerous thing if misplaced.’

The Sith Lord rises to his feet, pulling me up with him. My hand is still held in his, and I use the contact to steady myself a bit.

‘You are in shock from your injury,’ he observes, ‘and the poison needs to be bled out and quickly. There is something in my fighter’s medkit which should do the trick if I can get you there before the blood clots too much.’

To my surprise, I find myself being lead along, my uninjured hand in his, at a fairly rapid pace back to the observatory and his TIE. Content to let him do this, I keep a tight hold on his hand and concentrate on not tripping on my skirt a second time. When I start to stumble, he pulls me back with his hand, preventing another fall. All too soon we are at our destination. He stops at the base of the scaffold and retrieves a bottle of something from a metal box he takes out of his ship. My hand is held firmly when he pours the contents over it and rubs the solution into my wounds. Whatever it is burns. I try to yank my hand back, but he merely tightens his grip. The punctures are bleeding profusely now.

‘Let the anti-coagulant do its work,’ Vader advises, ‘I know it burns, but there is no help for that.’

For several minutes we stand there while my hand drips blood onto the grass between us. The entire time he keeps a gentle hold on it, waiting for some signal unknown to me that it has bled enough. I try to keep my face composed, but slip up at some point. The Sith Lord notices, and distracts me with a run down on what remains to be done to repair his ship.

‘Mostly reassembling the damaged systems with the replacement components I removed yesterday,’ he finally concludes.

‘Is there something I can do to help?’ I offer. ‘Setting up tonight’s observations will not take long, and then I will be free to do whatever will be of use to you.’

‘You should be more careful how you phrase things,’ the Sith Lord scolds. ‘Say exactly what you mean, nothing that can be misconstrued. In the Imperial Court, what you just told me would get you into a great deal of trouble.’

I stare at him in surprise. Say what? Where did that come from?

‘Maia, you were wondering what life on Coruscant would be like,’ Vader reminds me. ‘And I can think of a number of ways you could be useful to me both here and back there.’

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I can’t stop myself from asking, ‘Like what?’

‘Do you really want to know, curious one?’ he teases. ‘It will be easier to repair the drive system with an extra set of hands, and yours are small enough to do the more delicate tasks faster than I can. Your mathematical gift would make you a priceless addition to my research team, and with some training, you could act as one of my more specialized agents, or a personal aide to me of some sort where your analytical skills would be put to use. But I have only one real role for you to fill and it is not for you to know what it is. Now, the poison should be gone and I need to get the bleeding stopped.’

The evasive part of his answer raises my curiosity several notches, but I know better than to push my luck and enquire further. Instead I wait and watch what the Sith Lord does next.

He releases my hand and selects another bottle from the medkit, this time soaking some gauze with its contents. My hand is gently wiped with the cloth to remove the blood, and the contents of yet another container, this time some sort of salve are worked into the punctures. The bleeding stops almost immediately and my hand goes numb.

‘Combination antibiotic, blood stopper and topical anaesthetic,’ the Dark Lord notes, ‘has a high bacta content as well to speed healing. Your hand should be fine in two or three days.’

A few minutes later, my hand is expertly wrapped and the medkit stowed back in the TIE.

‘You are very good at that,’ I compliment, examining the finished dressing. ‘My mother would be impressed. Most of the med-students she has to put up with are rather hopeless at binding up wounds.’

‘I have had plenty of practice,’ he admits, sounding a touch amused, before asking, ‘Your mother is a doctor?’

‘She runs the regional trauma center. Med-students from the coast sometimes intern with her. A few of them return once their studies are finished, but most go to the larger cities.’ Since he seems interested in my family, I let out a bit more information. ‘My father is an engineer. He has some gift for mathematics, but nothing like mine. Most of the time he is busy designing engines for heavy equipment and the military. My youngest brother is also an engineer, and the other one a fighter pilot. Jamie might actually fly over today since his squadron is supposed to be putting on a precision flying demonstration somewhere on the coast tomorrow. If they have time in transit they often rehearse here. I could call the base at Cold Lake and find out, if you’re interested.’

‘Giving out too much information is also dangerous,’ he states flatly.

I give him an annoyed look. ‘Well, it’s not like you are going to do anything with what I just told you.’

‘Perhaps, but you are far too trusting.’ the Dark Lord still keeps his voice even, and it finally occurs to me that I am probably being teased once again.

‘I could say the same for you then, for trusting me,’ I tease him, turning the tables for the first time. Careful Maia, you are going to create some more problems for yourself.

His response is to pull me into his chest and hold me there with one of his arms wrapped behind my back. Before I can react, he runs a finger down the side of my face, then rests the end of it on the tip of my nose for a few seconds.

‘You are far too impertinent and impudent for your own good,’ he observes, ‘habits you need to divest yourself of before they get you into more trouble than you can handle.’

I try to keep my expression neutral, but my mind is running at top speed and I am beginning to panic. Maia, say something fast and it had better get you out of this.

‘Yes, my Lord, I will try to behave myself,’ I capitulate, resorting to formal mode once again. Darn, I like being able to tease him, if only a little.

‘Better,’ the Sith Lord comments, but he doesn’t release me. ‘If you are going to play at being my wife, even for a few hours at some party, I expect you to act in an appropriate manner.’

‘That, my Lord, was your idea, not mine,’ I remind him.

I am not going to let him forget this fact. No way. My plans were to dress as an Imperial officer, and I even have the admiral’s uniform in my closet.

‘It seemed the logical thing to do at the time, perhaps not the wisest, though, in hindsight.’ There is a wistful undertone in his voice as he says this. Looking down at me, he adds, ‘So, I will have to teach you not only how to dance, but how my wife would behave in public.’

Etiquette lessons? I am getting in way over my head now. Time to derail this before his decides I need lessons in anything else.

‘Are you sure that’s necessary?’ I ask, hoping he will just drop the idea. ‘No one here will know the difference.’

‘I would know,’ Vader acknowledges, then emphasizes, ‘my Lady.’

Formal mode. I had forgotten. Well, if he is going to insist, I had better go along with it.

‘Apologies, my Lord, I will be more careful to address you correctly in the future,’ I concede.

My concession is accepted and I am released from the odd embrace he has held me in.

‘You need to eat something, my Lady,’ he tells me, switching subjects, ‘and your gown is certainly not suited for helping me with the repairs to my ship.’

Obviously he is not going to let up on the lesson in proper behavior. I start to move away, to head back to my apartment, but he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

‘You will walk on my left side, and I will slow my pace to match yours,’ he directs as he steps to stand at my right.

My right hand is caught by his right, tucked under his left, and set to rest on his left forearm. Nodding my understanding to him, we walk to my home together.

On the way, he continues his instructions, ‘In public, my wife would only be allowed this much physical contact unless I initiate something further. I will not tolerate any undue familiarity from you, even if it is customary on this world.’

I flinch inwardly at this. What does he think I am going to do? Throw myself at him? Honestly. I steal a sideways glance at him. Well, it was nice being carried to bed last night and I did like waking up with his arms wrapped around me. I yank my mind away from those thoughts. Stop that Maia, I warn myself, or you will get yourself in trouble again.

‘Your mind is wandering, pay attention,’ the Sith Lord scolds.

‘Yes, my Lord, I will restrain myself in public,’ I promise.

Not that I have ever done anything untoward in private either. Every touch and embrace has been initiated by him, not me. I file this observation away as something to think about when I have a few minutes to myself.

Once at my apartment, he removes my hand from his arm, and I follow him inside. He settles himself back into the comfortable chair and watches me head into the kitchen. The light on the answering machine is flashing so I hit playback to see who has called. Two hang-ups and a couple messages including one from Jamie, so I turn up the volume and play the one my brother left.

‘Hi sis! Found anything interesting in outer space this month? I mailed your birthday present last week so it should be there by now. Consider it a very belated one from last year or an early one for this year. I have some leave time next month so watch for me! Me and the ‘birds will be heading your way this afternoon. Watch for us at fourteen hundred. Commander wants to try a few new moves out, so you should have a good show. Gotta run and prep for the trip. Bye!’

I can’t stop myself from laughing at his crazy enthusiasm. My brother the nutty test pilot. I love him dearly, but he is always forgetting something or another. One time he forgot when his university exams were and turned up two days early. The Sith Lord must be wondering what I am laughing at, so I decide to translate and pass on my brother’s news. Formal mode, I remind myself.

‘My Lord, the Snowbirds will be here in about four hours,’ I tell him. ‘My brother will be flying in the number six position. They will rehearse for an hour or so before continuing to the coast for a precision flying demonstration.’

‘Snowbirds?’ he asks.

‘Our military’s elite squadron, my Lord. Only the very best qualify for the available positions, and the competition for those is intense,’ I explain.

I walk over to the cabinet beside the television and pull out one of my photo albums. It takes me a few minutes to find the pages I want, but when I do, I hand him the book.

‘This is my brother, my Lord,’ I say as I point to Jamie in his dress uniform, ‘and this is his new CF-18 fighter,’ as I flip to the next page with him in his flight suit beside his new jet. The facing page shows the squadron in flight, with nine of the planes in a diamond formation. ‘For precision flying they use modified CT-114 trainers instead of their tactical fighters. In this photo the wing tips are less than a meter apart. The ‘birds are famous for close maneuvers, and a few of them have died in crashes when their timing was off and their wings made contact.’

‘There are similar elite teams in the Imperial military, though few specialize in atmospheric flying,’ Vader tells me.

I head back into the kitchen to play the last message. It’s from Nigel. Blast, I think, what does he want now? Hitting play again, I hope it is just a reminder about the party in two days.

‘Hi Maia. Just want to remind you about the party so you don’t forget again. Remember everyone is supposed to stay in character until midnight! How are you and ‘Lord Vader’ getting along? Everyone I mentioned our conversation from the other night to is dying to meet your new boyfriend. Just make sure he doesn’t crash the party with a squad of stormtroopers. See you on Monday!’

I must have been making some rather interesting noises because the Sith Lord is staring at me from his chair in the living room.

‘Problems?’ he inquires, completely calm, though he must have heard what Nigel said.

‘Nigel,’ I growl, ‘has to be the most annoying, infuriating person I have ever known. He goes out of his way to deliberately provoke people and thanks to last night, I happen to be his target of choice right now.’

‘Ignore him. He is not worthy of your anger,’ the Dark Lord advises. ‘If he persists in being a nuisance at this party we are going to, I can deal with him for you. I would not put up with my wife being harassed or insulted and the same will apply to you.’

I wonder what he might do to my irritating colleague, but decide that asking is probably not a smart thing to do. There is no need to put any ideas into the Sith Lord’s head about what might be an appropriate response to Nigel’s teasing. With a frustrated sigh, I start the tea kettle boiling and set about making myself something to eat. By the time the tea is brewed, I have made up a couple of sandwiches and pulled a bag of carrot sticks out of the fridge. After tossing my lunch on a plate, and pouring myself a large mug of tea, I carry it all into the living room and plunk myself down on the couch.

Vader has been entertaining himself by flipping through my large photo album, I note. Luckily there are few incriminating photos in it. Now if I had given him the one with the sci-fi convention pics, I would be in trouble. Unfortunately, he does find one of the harder to explain shots.

‘Maia, is this you?’ he asks. The photo he has selected is an old one from when I was a child. I am sitting in the cockpit of a military jet with a silly grin on my face.

‘Yes,’ I admit, ‘that’s me. I was about ten, I think, and uncle Sam, my grandfather’s brother, was with his old fighter squadron at the big military air show. He decided to pull rank and take me up in one of the F-14's. They had to wrap the flight suit with tape to make it fit me and pile a couple of cushions on the seat so I could get a good look out of the cockpit. His superior officer was not amused when he found out about it, but Sam only got a slap on the wrist for it.’

‘Any officer of mine who did something similar would be demoted or discharged,’ the Sith Lord flatly states.

I start laughing, then decide it would be a wise idea to clarify what I find so funny. ‘Sam’s only superior officer was and is the President of the country neighboring this one. My uncle is a military and tactical genius, far too valuable to lose, and he has always known this. That’s why he could get away with a stunt like taking me up in the fighter. He is quite elderly now, but they can’t afford to let him retire because he’s irreplaceable. You heard him talking to me yesterday.’

‘And this person here, who is this?’ he asks, flipping to another page in the album. ‘He could almost be your twin.’

‘Michael, my older brother,’ I sadly state. ‘He was killed in a plane crash a few years ago. They never did recover his body.’ I turn the page over. The photo I show him now is my brother and grandfather training in the salle at my grandparent’s house. ‘Michael trained with my grandfather in various fencing and blade techniques. He was exceptionally good at it, good enough to qualify for the national team at sixteen years old and win the World Championships the same year.’

We work our way through some of the photo album, and I begin to wonder why the Dark Lord has taken such an interest in my background. Surely not just to amuse himself? Then again, how often does he sit down with someone and have a conversation like this? At least he is not insisting on being formal anymore and if anything has allowed himself to become completely relaxed with me. I take a look at the clock. Hours have passed without either of us noticing. My brother’s squadron will be here soon, and I need to get out of this dress.

The Sith Lord must have noticed my glance at the wall because he shuts the album and sets it on the table.

‘Your brother will be here soon,’ he comments, mirroring my own thoughts.

‘Yes,’ I confirm, ‘and I should do several things before he is, one of which requires your help.’

With that I head into my bedroom and pick up the medieval gowns from the bed. I carry them back into the living room and lay them over the back of the couch.

‘I don’t have a huge wardrobe, and I have no idea what would be appropriate for ‘Lady Vader,’ I admit, ‘so I need you to either pick something out or describe what you want me to wear in enough detail that I can put it together.’

‘Black, floor length, preferably sleeveless, but since you don’t have any indicators of rank, that’s not important,’ he quickly describes, ‘the fabric should be rich and flowing. Cut is not critical, but I would not allow my wife to dress like a courtesan.’

Well, that disqualifies everything I have dragged out based on color alone.

‘Just a minute, I’ll go have another look in my closet,’ I tell him.

There was a black underdress from a medieval costume I wore a few times, but it is designed to have a surcoat overtop. I would need his help to get laced into it and deal with the blasted buttons on the sleeves. Rummaging about produces the item I am searching for. Pleased that I have actually found it, I carry it into the living room and hook the hanger on the top of the bedroom door.

I give the gown a critical look. It is tightly fitted through the bodice and sleeves, with a full circle skirt and made from an extremely fine grade silk. How unfortunate that he wants me to wear black, I think, my red-gold hair, blue eyes, and pale complection don’t go well with colors that are too dark. I always wore this dress with a rich brown surcoat over top. While I have been examining my find, Vader has made his way to my side. He reaches out and touches the fabric, then rolls it in his fingers.

‘Mothsilk?’ he asks, incredulously, ‘And of the highest grade, too. Do you have any idea what this is worth?’

‘No,’ I admit, ‘my aunt brought the material from China, from the small town where they weave it, and I made the dress from it. She never told me what it cost.’

I wonder if Earth silk is the same as this mothsilk stuff, but I am not going to let him know this, not a chance.

The Sith Lord turns to look at me and reveals, ‘Maia, the price of first grade mothsilk is high enough that very few can afford a gown with as much fabric in it as this one.’

How does he know this? Padme’s wardrobe, of course, the logical part of my brain kicks in. She might have had something made of a similar material.

‘Could you afford to buy something like it?’ I ask, being a bit nosy.

‘Of course, though I have had no need to until n ...’ He stops his sentence abruptly.

Vader has let something slip there, disclosing more information in that statement than he might have wanted to. I file it away for future consideration.

‘Then it would be suitable?’ I prompt, hoping he is satisfied with it.

‘Perfectly so,’ he confirms.

‘Good. Just remember I will require your help to get into it,’ I warn, ‘I can’t reach the laces in back, and the buttons are hard to manage on my own.’

Dress issue settled, I return it and the others to the closet and shut my bedroom door. Time to change into more practical clothes. A pair of jeans and flannel shirt later and I am ready to go and do some work. When I step back into the living room, the Sith Lord is gone, and I can hear the roar of jet engines overhead. Jamie’s here! I think happily as I grab a jacket and run out the door and into the parking lot.

The Dark Lord is standing in the shadow of the research building, trying to be inconspicuous, I guess.

I scoot over to him and offer, ‘There’s a much better view from the roof of the building.’

Without waiting for a reply, I hurry inside and race up the stairwell. Once at the top, I wait for Vader to join me before opening the door and heading to the picnic table in the middle of the roof. The shaded area near the stairwell entrance is just large enough for him to stand in, but when he tries to stop there, I grab his hand instead and pull him over to the table to sit down beside me. Too surprised by my action to protest, he complies.

‘They can’t see us unless they fly upside down at a much lower speed and elevation than they are at,’ I tell him, ‘so there’s no need to hide, and the formations require all their concentration anyway. They have no time to look even if they want to.’

For the next hour or so we are entertained by our own private air show. I comment on the formations and maneuvers I recognize, and the Sith Lord adds his own observations as to how simple or difficult they are and whether or not the fighters he is familiar with could manage them. When the planes form up into a final diamond pattern, I know they are going to leave. As they round the east end of the valley, one of the jets separates from the formation, slows down and flies directly over us, rocking his wings back and forth as he goes before speeding up to rejoin his squadron as they head west and towards the coast.

‘Your brother, I assume?’ Vader asks.

‘Yes, and he will probably get a good dressing down from his commander for breaking formation, not that it ever stops him,’ I reveal. ‘He always does that if he knows I am here.’

‘He is as impertinent and stubborn as you are,’ he comments.

‘Yes, I guess you could say that,’ I admit, ‘It does run in the family. But at least I remember when his birthday is. Mine is not for another six weeks and he sent me the present for my last one just a few days ago.’

I get up from the picnic table and start for the stairwell. Time to get the telescopes set up, and check that no one has noticed he is here. When I am finished that, I will see what I can do to help with the repairs on the Dark Lord’s TIE. He does not follow me, but seems to be deep in thought about something or another. Rather than disturb his meditations, I quietly close the stairwell door behind me and head for the observatory’s computer room to restart the aborted program from Thursday night.

***

Maia’s gone, off to see to whatever her job requires and make sure no one has detected my presence here. I could have stopped her, continued to question her, but I need time to think without her as a distraction.

Given their antiquated technology and my own experience with flying in atmosphere, I have to admit that her brother’s squadron was impressive. He must be an excellent pilot, and from that and the stories she told me today about her older sibling and other relatives ... It is reassuring to know that any children I have from her stand a good chance of inheriting some of her family’s more desirable traits and abilities. Hopefully they will also have my talent with the Force.

Which will only be of use if I can return to the Empire.

I wonder if anyone has tried to track me yet. Certainly my failure to arrive at Teyr will have prompted some sort of investigation and search.

Or perhaps not.

There are those who would be delighted at my disappearance. Xixor, for example, and Baron Tagge. Members of Fleet Command who see me as too powerful, too dangerous, too uncontrollable. Fools, all of them. They have no idea what a Sith Lord is capable of. What I am capable of.

I let out a sigh.

I need to get back to Fondor. To my new flagship. To my life.

I rise to my feet and walk to the edge of the roof. Clasping my hands behind my back, I watch the seven telescopes move in tandem. Maia is obviously busy.

And what am I to do with her if I can return to the Empire?

She would be as out of place there as I am here.

But she would be with me and she would be mine.

The telescopes stop moving so I resume my seat at the table.

I will continue to test her.

***

The Sith Lord still hasn’t turned up. Worried that he might have locked himself up on the roof, I decide to check there first. David did that once and no one noticed for four hours. When I get to the top of the stairs, I quietly open the door and peer out. Vader is seated where I left him, still appearing to be deep in thought. I debate approaching him for a couple minutes, then decide that I had better make sure he is okay. Wary of startling him, I make sure to crunch a few of the gravel bits underfoot as I walk over to the table to sit down across from him. He takes no notice of my presence, so I get up after a few minutes and wander to the west side of the roof, staying well back from the edge. The sun goes down early this time of year and tonight’s sunset looks to be spectacular.

I hear footsteps approach me, but I keep my eyes looking out across the valley and don’t turn to face him. When his arms slide around my waist from behind, I freeze and it is all I can do not to jump in surprise. How can he move so quietly?

‘Sunrise on Naboo is as beautiful as this sunset is,’ the Sith Lord reminisces. ‘Coruscant is covered with so many artificial lights that there is no true dawn or sunset.’

What am I supposed to say or do? Is he flirting with me?

‘You are very quiet, impertinent one,’ he teases. ‘No comments from you tonight?’

When I am still silent he gently runs the fingers of one hand through my hair. Part of me wants to lean into his hand as he does this, but I restrain myself.

‘You should leave it loose like this,’ he suggests, ‘It looks better this way than braided.’

He must be flirting with me, I decide. Two can play at that game. When his hand is free of my hair, I catch it with my own, kiss the back of his glove and pull it across my chest to rest on my shoulder with my fingers laced in his beneath it. To my surprise, he lets me do this, and takes my free hand in his other one, holding it in his own across my waist. Maia, I remind myself, be careful here, this is getting dangerous. Hopefully he will snap out of this weird mood.

After he holds me wrapped in his arms and says nothing for a considerable time, my nerves finally prompt me to ask, ‘My Lord, what do you want from me?’

‘The most dangerous question of all to ask,’ he states, ‘and one I think you know the answer to already although you will not admit it to yourself as yet. Ask me something else.’

And just what am I supposed to know? Or ask? I don’t like being confused, and this is exactly what I am on several fronts. He is complex and deep, I conclude. There is far more to this man than was ever revealed on screen or in print.

Finally, I venture, ‘You are not as I expected you to be.’

‘That is a statement not a question,’ the Dark Lord scolds, ‘You should know better than to believe what you hear in the media or in traveler’s tales.’

A question for him. Very well, then.

‘This is who you really are, in private, isn’t it?’ I ask, ‘Not the military commander and Sith Lord persona you adopt in public which is so widely known and feared.’

His arms tighten around me, crushing me back against his chest, and I realize that I have hit the target dead on. Now, how is he going to answer me?

‘You have a rare gift for insight,’ Vader tells me, ‘Be careful how you use it.’ He untangles our hands and I am released from his embrace as he steps back from me. ‘I would assume you have finished whatever duties your job requires since you came looking for me. I will meet you at my fighter.’

The Sith Lord whirls about and is off before I can come up with any response to him. Rats. I liked being held, and he didn’t really answer my question either. Irked, I head to his fighter, making a quick stop on the way to turn on the floodlights around the building. We will need them to see what we are doing.

***

She stayed.

Again.

She is here in my arms a second time.

I give in to temptation and touch her unbound hair. It is long, silky, and easily slides through my gloved fingers.

It is her best feature.

How I wish I could rip this mask off and bury my face in it.

I tell her she should leave it loose, and as my wife, my companion, I will insist she does so.

When my hand is free, Maia grabs it, kisses the back of my glove, pulls my arm around her. She’s decided to flirt with me. I know this dance. I take her free hand, lay my arm across her waist, and hold her close.

She doesn’t resist.

But I can feel the tension in her body, the uncertainty. I stay silent, waiting for what she might do.

‘My Lord, what do you want from me?’ she asks at last.

The one question I cannot answer. Dare not answer. For I am not entirely sure what the answer is myself.

I put her off, tell her to ask me something else.

Then she chooses to ask something which surprises me even more than the first question did. My arms pull her hard into my chest. Maia has seen through my protection, my mask. Not the physical one of course, but the disguise I hide my true self behind. Where does her insight come from?

‘You have a rare gift for insight,’ I warn, ‘Be careful how you use it.’

I release her before she can say anything else to unsettle me.

‘I would assume you have finished whatever duties your job requires since you came looking for me,’ I note. ‘I will meet you at my fighter.’

Then I spin on my heel and head to my TIE, fighting to regain my self-control as I go.

Maia has passed her second test, but at the cost of my composure.

When she eventually comes to the workshop, I look up from the components I had been fitting back together and wait for her to join me. She is quiet, thoughtful. From her expression and silence, she’s trying to figure out what I was up to on the roof.

If she only knew.

‘This is the first system which needs to be repaired,’ I tell her.

She nods in response.

‘A few of the tasks will go faster if you do them,’ I admit. ‘So I will coach you as we go along.’

Another nod.

I reach over and tap the screen on the datapad I had retrieved from my TIE. Time for some music I prefer.

Maia jumps as the first track begins to play.

‘What is that?’ she asks.

‘Deeply Religious’ new release,’ I answer as pick up the energy damper and prepare to attach it to the already assembled pieces.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t comment.

I know what she probably thinking, though.

‘Their music is banned,’ I admit as I tighten a connection. ‘I had to obtain this through contacts I have on the black market.’

‘I can see why it’s banned,’ she dryly comments.

I stop what I am doing and look at her.

‘They don’t paint a very nice picture of the Empire,’ Maia observes, ‘and I doubt the Emperor appreciates being mocked.’

I smile at that. The double meaning of the lyrics was quite apparent to her.

‘No, he doesn’t,’ I admit. ‘Nor do I.’

A questioning expression is on her face, so I pick up the datapad and change to another song, one by Red Shift Limit, that I have stored on the sound slug.

As Armored Heartbreak begins to play, I tell her, ‘I saw to it myself that this one was banned,’ then add, ‘Both versions of it.’

I let it play until she flinches at the words, and with a tap or two on the datapad’s keyboard shift to the instrumental section on the data chip.

‘Enough of that,’ I decide. ‘Come here and I will show you what I want you to do.’

There is no hesitation from her, I note as I set a hydrospanner in her hand and adjust how she is holding it. My touch prompts no response, no fear, only a curious look when my fingers linger for a moment longer than necessary.

For someone who is as smart as she is, Maia is not very astute when it come to personal relationships. I think any other woman would know exactly what my intentions are by now, so she is either deliberately playing coy or in complete denial.

I suspect it is the latter.

‘The energy damper needs to be connected here,’ I point to the reassembled section, ‘and to this component here,’ I indicate the next piece to go on. You will use the hydrospanner to keep the damper from rotating while I attach it.’

I really don’t need her help with this, but it will give her something to do while I ask the questions I need answers for.

‘I didn’t see much of this system when I dropped out of hyperspace,’ I admit, ‘just this world’s moon. Describe the other planets for me.’

She does so. In a fair amount of detail, too, adding information as I ask for it. Good. I may be able to determine my location with what she has told me.

The last of the drive system snaps together. I tinker with the adjustments for a while, sometimes getting Maia to help. She never questions what I want her to do and is silent when she isn’t answering me.

‘You have been rather quiet,’ I note.

‘I used to help my father with his projects,’ Maia replies. ‘He preferred that I didn’t talk too much. It was a distraction to him. I assumed you wanted me to do the same.’

‘Thank you,’ I tell her, finally setting the ‘spanner aside. ‘It needs to be reinstalled, something you can’t help me with. You may go now and I will join you in about an hour.’

I watch her head back to her quarters, then quickly replace what I had removed from my TIE.

My next task could take some time.

I settle myself in the cockpit and begin entering data. Yellow star. Four terrestrial planets, third of which is inhabited. Asteroid belt. Four gas giants. Another terrestrial planet. Then moons - numbers around each of the worlds in the system. Any other pertinent information also goes in.

My finger hesitates a moment, then I ask the computer to find a match.

The screen freezes while the databank is searched. Please, I think, let there be something which fits.

Finally four star systems are listed. I call up the file on the first. Midrim world, but they have interstellar ships and are too advanced technologically. The second and third choices I eliminate based on their locations. Both fall firmly within Imperial space. The last entry ....

I hit the control panel with my fist.

No.

No. This one is impossible as well. It is only inhabited by primitive humanoids.

I repeat the search.

Twice.

The same four results appear each time, mocking me.

I close my eyes and let myself slump back in the seat.

Force help me.

I am stuck on an uncharted world, in the middle of nowhere, with no way to ever return.

***

As soon as I am inside, I shut off the telephone just in case Nigel gets the bright idea to call and stir up more mischief. I then have a quick bath to warm up, careful to keep my wrapped up hand out of the water as I do so, dress myself in one of my long flannel nightgowns, and sit up in bed to review the day’s events. Several times, I note, Vader let things slip, and I can’t figure out if he was doing so deliberately or not. Perhaps he is having a bit of fun teasing me? Certainly I would never have expected the amount of physical contact between us. It’s almost as if he can’t stop himself when the opportunity is available. Curious, that. Maybe it is a way to ground himself, a form of compensation for not feeling the Force? I am the largest living thing within kilometers and it may be that his midichlorians are drawn to me, over-riding his normal behavior patterns. Don’t be ridiculous, Maia, I think, that’s nuts. He is probably just having a bit of fun at your expense. The only other explanation is, well, even more unbelievable. Don’t go there at all.

Now to evaluate my own feelings, and I don’t know what they are anymore. One minute he is busy lecturing me on proper behavior, the next flirting with and almost propositioning me. It was wonderful to be held like that on the roof tonight, though. No one has held me like that since I was a small child, and I am actually looking forward to having his warm body next to me tonight. I start in shock and blush scarlet at this thought.

What on Earth is wrong with me?

I give my head a few shakes in denial. No, I scold myself, this is not happening to me, to the one who has always avoided becoming involved with anyone.

Oh, yes, it has happened, Maia, my conscience puts in, and you had better deal with the fact that you have always had some rather strong feelings for him before you really do get into trouble.

Trouble? I retort back at myself. Much too late. I am already there.

Of all the men I could have chosen to fall in love with, to be the first person I ever fall in love with, it would have to be him - Darth Vader, a Sith Lord and an exceptionally dangerous and powerful man.

And after meeting the real person, I find I really do love him, despite who and what he is.

Resigned to my situation, I lay my head on my pillow and wait for the Sith Lord to appear. I make a firm resolution to stop behaving like a teenager with her first crush and start acting like a professional. There is no way I will give him a single hint of what my feelings are. The repercussions could be something I don’t want to even think about. He might just laugh at me and do nothing, but at the worst... steeling myself, I force myself to finish this thought ....at the worst, he might decide to do something about it in ways I am not ready to experience, armor be damned.

My determination to stay awake eventually fails me, and I drift off long before the Dark Lord returns. When he lays down beside me, I rouse a little, but my sleep filled mind barely registers it. I am a touch more awake as he takes me in his arms and gently twists my hair out of the way as he settles my head near his shoulder. I want him to hold me closer than that, my groggy brain decides, so when he returns his hand to my waist, I set my own over top of it and pull it up and to the center of my chest, anchoring his hand in place with mine and pulling him tighter into my back. Better, I think, as I slide into a world of dreams.

Sun. Feb. 11.

The light from the window wakes me before the Sith Lord, who must be deeply asleep, judging from the slowed sound of his regulated breathing. He must have changed the programmed pattern when he came to bed last night. The next thing I realize is that his left hand, which I had held to the center of my chest, has slipped down and is now firmly cupped around my right breast, and there is nothing I can do about it. Moving it would probably startle him, and the warning he gave me about the consequences of doing so is still fresh in my mind. Next time, I scold myself, leave his hand at your waist. Resigned to being thoroughly embarrassed when he does wake, I start to consider what needs to be done today. There is still another set of components to replace in his ship, and I need to know the total volume and ratios of the different gases for the blend required by the fighter’s engines, as well as figure out how to transfer the mix into whatever his TIE uses to hold it. Both tasks could take a good portion of the day. I also have to juggle the observation schedule to make up for the two evenings which have been lost. And he still hasn’t come up with the promised dancing lessons.

I hear a change in his breathing as he wakes. The increase in his respiration rate over-rides the automatic system and Vader seems to fight with it for a few seconds before allowing the set pattern of slow breaths to reassert itself. At about the same time, I guess, he realizes exactly where his hand has come to rest. We are both silent, frozen in place for a moment.

He speaks before I can, ‘My Lady, my apologies for being forward. It was, I assure you, not intentional.’ His hand is withdrawn to drape around my waist as he says this.

‘No offense taken, my Lord,’ I reply, keeping my tone light.

No reason to make a fuss about it and make the situation more uncomfortable than it is. It’s a good thing he can’t see my face, though, since it has gone several shades of red.

‘The temperature plunged last night, so there is no point in trying to work on my fighter until it warms up in the afternoon,’ the Sith Lord observes, ‘and while I would enjoy staying in bed and sleeping with you for a bit longer, I need your help with a medical matter.’

Does he realize what he just said, I wonder, or is that phrase without a sexual meaning in the Empire? I am not going to ask, I decide. Explaining what his words meant if the latter is true would be far too embarrassing.

Instead, I turn myself in his arms to face him and ask, ‘Are you ill? I might be able to do something for you if it is simple since I have had some basic training as a paramedic.’

‘Electrolyte imbalance,’ he admits, rolling over onto his back. His respiration is quickly reset to its normal rate when he pulls his arm from under my head and trips one of the buttons on his chest panel with a quick touch. ‘Two days in my fighter and two here without being able to see to my daily needs has resulted in dehydration. I do not want it to grow worse, but I cannot easily remedy the problem myself.’

‘It will be almost two more days here and then whatever your return trip requires before you can be properly treated, if you don’t look after this. Not a good idea, my Lord, to put it off until then.’ I scold him a little bit. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘I have brought what you need from my fighter and left it in your kitchen. Once you are ready, I can coach you through the procedure.’

The Sith Lord pushes himself up into a sitting position and looks over at me. I remain lounging on my side, leaning on one arm with my hair falling everywhere, watching his every move. Unfortunately, my hair is going to take a bit of work today since sleeping with it loose produces snarls. I must be quite the wild and disheveled sight to him. He continues to stare and I wonder what it is that he sees.

‘Is something wrong?’ I finally work up the nerve to ask.

‘It is unfortunate you hide your eyes behind those glass lenses,’ he states.

‘Necessary evil. I am blind without my glasses,’ I admit. ‘The lenses in my eyes can be repaired with surgery but not the retinas. I will be completely blind within the next twenty years. It’s a curse in my family, a side effect of the same genetic defect which produces the high number of geniuses. I am fortunate that I don’t have some of the more serious problems which can go with it.’

‘Like?’ the Dark Lord prompts, curious.

‘Connective tissue which doesn’t function properly. At the very worst the walls of the major arteries break down with time and eventually aneurism. I do have problems regulating my body temperature and can get chilled easily if I am not careful.’ I don’t see any point in giving him the proper medical name, Marfan’s syndrome, since it is probably called something else where he is from.

‘Most of these problems can be remedied with the medical knowledge in the Empire,’ the Sith Lord reveals.

‘That is there, this is here,’ I remind him, ‘and you need to have your own medical problem looked after.’ I push myself up to sit beside him. ‘Give me a few minutes to get organized and dressed, and then I will do my best to help.’

Vader leaves the bedroom before I do, taking up his customary place in my living room. He picks up the photo album and resumes flipping through it. I quickly get dressed and sit down on the couch next to him, taking my time working out the knots in my hair. When I am finished, I pull it back and tie it into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. Breakfast next, I think. On the kitchen table are the medical items the Sith Lord had retrieved from his TIE. The Empire’s equivalent of an electrolyte solution in a drip bag, I guess, and the tubing needed to run it into a vein. A small box contains the needles and other necessities for setting up an i.v.

I mentally review the procedures for getting an i.v. started. Raise a vein somewhere and slide the needle into it. Now I see what his problem is. So much of his body is cybernetic that he can’t easily reach the places where a needle could go in. The upper part of his right arm should be intact, if memory serves, and I might find a suitable vein there. Best to let him tell me where to look though. Breakfast can wait, I decide, Vader needs to be seen to first. I head back to my bedroom and put on a sweater. There is nothing worse than a cold i.v., so I tuck the bag inside my clothes to bring it up to body temperature. The rest of the equipment, I carry into the living room with me and set it on the coffee table.

‘I have been trained to set up an i.v. so I should be able to do this for you,’ I tell the Sith Lord. ‘What I don’t know is where it can be put and how I am supposed to get through your armor to do it.’

‘Upper right arm,’ he swiftly answers, ‘and I can remove some of my body armor without any trouble. Only the helmet and mask must remain sealed.’

Well, that answered more questions than the one I just posed. No more need for idle speculations about what he can and can’t do if he wants to.

‘We should get started then,’ I decide.

Vader wastes no time, and I watch quietly as he works. His cape is unhooked, and both gloves pulled off and set aside. Next he removes the pauldrons from both his shoulders and his upper chest protection is lifted away. He hands each of these to me and I lay them on the table. The armor is lighter than I expect, probably some sort of specialized material, I guess. With a touch, the shoulder seam of his quilted leather body armor opens and he pulls the sleeve off. I place it next to the other things he has removed and watch as he rolls up the sleeve of the fabric bodysuit he is wearing next to his skin.

He sits in the chair now, calmly waiting for me to proceed. I rise to my feet and step to his side, taking a quick look at his arm as I do so. The join between flesh and cybernetics is obvious. No attempt has been made to match the color of the latter with that of his pale skin. Get a hold of yourself, Maia, think of this as another one of your mother’s tests and you’ll be fine. Making sure my hands are warm, I reach out and gently touch his upper arm. There is no excess here, only powerful muscles created by years of training and practice. The vein I need should be on the underside, near the top, so I run my fingers along, tracing where it lies just under the surface. While I could try to run the needle in with just a tourniquet, I decide that adding some heat will make things easier.

‘I’ll be right back,’ I tell him as I head for the bathroom.

A minute later I have the heating pad dug out of the linen closet and wrapped around the Sith Lord’s arm. Five minutes later, and I have removed the heat and popped the vein up with a rubber tie around his arm. It takes two tries to get the needle in, and he doesn’t make a sound or flinch during my missed attempt. While his arm was warming up, I had connected the tubing and run some of the electrolyte through to remove air bubbles, so I now finish hooking it up to the needle and pull off the tie around his arm. Carefully regulating the flow to keep the vein from collapsing, I leave the drip bag tucked inside my sweater and wait for it to drain.

Strangely, the Dark Lord has remained silent while I work, that is until the fluid starts running into his vein. He turns to look up at me then, tipping his head to one side as he does so.

‘You have far better manners than most medical professionals I have had to deal with,’ he states. ‘They usually ramble on about nothing just to hear the sound of their own voice, or insist on giving me a rundown of what I already know. And none of them has ever bothered to take the chill off anything which has been pumped into me.’

‘My mother would be appalled if I behaved in such a manner,’ I tell him. ‘I must apologize for missing on my first try though.’

‘Your hands were shaking,’ Vader notes with amusement, ‘a common problem where I am concerned. No harm done. Now let me see your left hand.’

I hold my injured hand out to him, and he unwraps the dressing he had bound in it the previous day. The punctures from the cactus are visible as red circles against my skin, but there is no infection or pain associated with them. He gently runs a finger over the wounds, checking for heat, I assume, and his touch sends a shiver through me. Stop that Maia, I scold myself, remember what you decided last night. Luckily the Sith Lord does not notice the effect he is having on me.

‘Leave it uncovered for now,’ he advises, ‘it is healing well.’

My hand is released from his, and I check the drip bag. Another minute or two and it should be drained. When it is, I let the last bit of fluid run down and remove the tubing from the needle. I set this aside, pick up a gauze square and hold it hard against his arm as I pull the needle out. To keep a bruise from forming, I continue to keep a firm and steady pressure against his skin for several minutes. Satisfied that I have done everything I can for him, I step away to let him know that I am finished.

Before I am out of reach, he catches my right hand, gives it a quick squeeze and says, ‘Thank you.’

I cover my surprise at his action with an automatic reply, ‘You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do?’

‘Not at the moment. You need to find some appropriate music to dance to, that is, if you still want me to teach you. And go put on a gown,’ he orders, ‘What you are wearing is not suitable.’

As he reaches for his armor to start replacing it, I make a hasty retreat into my bedroom. I am glad I will have a few minutes to compose myself. Maia, I scold myself, as I dig the gown I wore yesterday out of the closet, get a grip before you make a total fool of yourself. You are not some silly schoolgirl, but a grown woman. Resolve restored, I change into the blue dress and return to the living room.

Vader is busy pulling on his gloves, and mindful of his last instructions, I set about going through my cd collection. I have a rather odd selection of things; mostly Baroque and other classical composers, a few folk artists and the occasional rock band courtesy of my brothers who think I need to broaden my musical tastes. There is not much that one could really dance to other than the Strauss waltzes. Well, I suppose if there is anything I would prefer to learn, a waltz would be it. With a simple three step pattern I can’t mess up too much.

Tossing the cd into the stereo, I hit play and wait for the Dark Lord’s reaction, telling him, ‘This is the only music I have which they might play at the party.’

He seems to listen intently for a minute or so, then nods, and states, ‘Simple three step dance. You should have no trouble learning it, but there is no room in here to teach it to you.’

‘No problem, we can use the Visitor’s Center,’ I decide.

I pop out the disk and drop it back into its case. There is a door leading from my kitchen into the room explaining how radiowaves are used to map the universe, so I lead us through it. My goal is the larger open space downstairs where the reception desk is, so I leave the Sith Lord who is looking at the various photos on the walls.

***

As I look about, I see a series of educational displays. This must be where they bring people to explain what they do here. This room obviously shows how the telescopes work. I hear Maia go downstairs and follow after her.

I stop partway down and see exactly what I need.

There is a large three dimensional galactic map in the center of this place.

I may be able to leave this planet after all. If I had known this existed, I would have had her bring me in here two days ago.

Now I just need to have her point out where we are on it.

I make my way down the steps to the railing surrounding the exhibit. The red mark must be where this system is, but its location makes no sense whatsoever.

It’s in the wrong galaxy.

Which is in the center of the display when the one we are in is off to one side.

This makes absolutely no sense.

I walk around the map, checking it from several angles.

No, I am seeing things correctly.

This system must be shown in the wrong place, then.

Deliberately shown in the wrong place.

She’s been lying to me.

My temper explodes.

***

I load the Strauss cd into one of the stereos used for guided tours, but before I can hit play, I am grabbed by my arm and dragged to where the large 3-d model of our galaxy and those near it is set up.

‘What is going on here?’ Vader demands. ‘This display you have is incorrect. Where are we on it?’

Oh damn. From the cold sound of his voice, he is in full Sith Lord and military commander mode now. How am I going to explain this to him? Taking him in here with all the stellar maps was the worst thing I could have done. Tell the truth, I remind myself, show him where we are and maybe he will figure out where he came from and settle down.

‘This system is located here, on the edge of this spiral arm,’ I tell him, pointing to where Earth is marked on the map.

‘Impossible. There is no possible way I could have traveled across intergalactic space.’ His hand clamps down harder, and he gives me a shake. ‘Tell me the truth, Maia, where is this system?’

‘That is the truth,’ I insist, ‘whether you want to believe it or not.’

My arm starts to hurt as he twists me around to face him and I am going to have a nasty bruise as a result. Obviously he did not like my answer.

‘You have one last chance to tell me what I want to know, Maia, and if you lie to me again then I will force it out of you,’ the Sith Lord threatens. The pressure increases on my arm again and he caresses my cheek with his other hand as he adds, ‘And I know exactly what I need to do to make you give me the location.’

Is he really threatening to do what I think he is? He can’t be serious, can he? Or is he just trying to give me a good scare? At a loss for words, I simply stare at him. When I continue to remain silent, Vader drags me through the Visitor’s Center, up the stairs, and back to my apartment. Once there, I am thrown onto my bed and pinned in place by a hand pressing down on my shoulder.

‘You leave me no choice then,’ he warns, ‘and I will have to extract the information the hard way.’

My mind finally starts working again and I get myself under control, so I quietly ask, ‘Why won’t you believe me? I have no reason to lie about this, and the displays have been there for years. When have I had the time to change them to try and deceive you?’

‘Travel between galaxies is not possible,’ he coldly states. ‘This system must be somewhere in the galaxy nearest the one you pointed to on your map, the galaxy which you know is the correct one. Now tell me the truth. Where is this system?’

‘Exactly where I showed you it was,’ I calmly tell him. ‘Since you don’t believe me, why don’t you check your fighter’s nav-computer?’

In response to my challenge, the Dark Lord takes the lightsaber from his belt and ignites it. I stare at him, wondering if this is another tactic to get an answer, but refuse to let any of the panic I am starting to feel show on my face.

When I try to sit up, he shoves me down again, points a finger at me, and warns, ‘Stay put and don’t even think of trying to run away or escape.’

He leaves the bedroom next, fusing the door handle with his ‘saber after he exits. I hear the blade shut-off followed by the outside door closing.

***

I drag her by the arm up the stairs and back into her bedroom, throwing her onto the bed once I get there. If she won’t co-operate, I will force the information out of her. I will tie her in place and do as I please with her.

I will get the truth from her and I intend to thoroughly enjoy myself while doing so.

I repeat the threats I made beside the galactic map. She doesn’t change her answer and if anything becomes more defiant, more determined to have me believe her lies. Then she challenges me.

She dares to challenge me?

Very well, then, I will go and check the co-ordinates from my nav-computer against her map.

But I will make sure she can’t disappear on me while I am gone.

I leave her in the bedroom, lit lightsaber in my hand, and fuse the door closed. As I exit her quarters, I rip the communication box from the wall. There will be no escape or rescue for her.

***

I stay frozen in place for only a few seconds, then I am off the bed and trying to get the door to open. No such luck. The mechanism is melted together. My next stop is the window, but my fear of heights prevents me from climbing out and jumping down to the ground below. Trapped, I have no choice but to wait for Vader’s return and hope he is going to be more reasonable about this. If not, I am afraid I am going to be on the receiving end of one of his infamous interrogations. And, I admit to myself, probably of a far more intimate nature than what Princess Leia went through on the Death Star given what he was implying he would do to me.

Since I don’t know how long he is going to leave me locked in here, I decide to plan what to do when he gets back while I have the chance. If he continues to be unreasonable, there is not much I can do other than endure it. Not a happy prospect. I know appearances can carry strength and symbolism, so I pull the chair over to one side, facing the door. He is not going to find me cowering on the bed, no way. One of my more elaborate medieval gowns is similar to a costume Padme wore, and I quickly change into it. Perhaps he will recognize the style, perhaps not, but anything which gives me some sort of advantage will help. My hair, which is a mess from him shaking me about, takes a bit of work, but I manage to get it semi-respectable looking. The slightest touch of make-up and I am ready.

Settling myself into the chair to wait, I take a few minutes to examine myself in the dresser mirror. Not bad, I guess, even if I do have the patented family nose and chin. There is not much I can do about how pale I am, or the glasses since my contact lenses are in the bathroom. Using the same techniques I use at conferences to quiet my nerves before I have to give talks in front of large groups, I simply wait patiently for the Sith Lord to return.

***

I make my way to my TIE, my fury increasing with each step.

Maia lied to me. Lied to me for two days.

I should have known better than to trust what she said, should have forced an answer from her when I first landed. How she must have laughed behind my back at how easy it was to deceive me.

What a fool I was to believe everything she told me.

I do not like being played for a fool.

I climb the ladder to the platform and lower myself into my ship. With a touch the nav-computer readings come up. Transferring them to my datapad, I begin to work out where they would be if they were correct.

The resulting answer is impossible.

I repeat the calculations three more times. And receive the same set of co-ordinates.

Very well, I will go and check this against her map.

The bedroom door is still fused shut when I enter her apartment, and there is not a sound coming from behind it. Good. Maia has not escaped from her impromptu cell. Hopefully she has realized it is better to answer me truthfully and cease her lies and defiance. If she co-operates when I come back, I might be lenient on her. If not, I will do what I must to her.

I eye the galactic map a second time. If I take the distances as scaled down, but accurate, the co-ordinates I have from galactic center would put me ... there.

No.

That’s not possible. Can’t be possible.

I am exactly where she said we are.

Across intergalactic space.

In another galaxy.

I stand motionless, staring at the map for many minutes, trying to reconcile what I know with where I am. My nav-computer isn’t malfunctioning after all - repeating my plotting gives the same location.

I turn about. I will see if my prisoner has an explanation for this.

***

About an hour later I hear him open the front door, and walk through the apartment into the Visitor’s Center. Checking on what he discovered from the nav-computer is my educated guess. A while after that, I hear him come back. The sound of his lightsaber and smell of melting metal tells me that I am about to discover whether or not he has decided to believe me. I take a few deep breaths and fold my hands in my lap. Then the door swings open and I am calmly gazing at Darth Vader, who stands in the bedroom entrance, staring at me in return.

He stays silent, fixed in place, looking at me for several long minutes, then steps forward into the room. I am stalked, circled, much the way he did the first time I met him. Finally he grabs my arm. I try to yank it away, but my resistance is pointless, and I am once again dragged along, this time back to the galactic map in the Visitor’s Center. Another set of bruises to deal with, I note to myself.

‘Explain,’ he orders, releasing my arm and shoving me hard into the railing around the exhibit.

‘Explain what?’ I ask, confused.

‘This,’ he says, indicating the Andromeda galaxy, ‘is where I am from, yet,’ pointing to the Milky Way, ‘I find myself here.’

‘Well, don’t look at me,’ I tell him. ‘I am no expert on hyperspace navigation. Maybe you just took a weird detour.’

‘Not possible,’ the Sith Lord flatly states. ‘There are only a few phenomena which could cause a large enough distortion to have this radical an effect, and any of those would have destroyed my fighter.’

‘If you don’t know, then I can assure you, I most certainly don’t.’ I take a deep breath, and ask, ‘Can you get home?’

Please say yes, I pray. Being permanently stuck with a Sith Lord to look after will definitely be a problem.

‘By back-tracking, yes,’ he reveals, ‘but a return journey would be unadvisable.’

‘Good, because I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you were stuck here!’ I say recklessly. I have had enough of being dragged about and now both my arms are bruised.

‘Impertinent, impudent, insolent, stubborn, temperamental ...’ he growls taking a step towards me with each word as I back away from him.

‘.... and I could say the same for you!’ I break in, throwing all caution to the wind. ‘I didn’t ask for you to drop into my life, create havoc, and drag me about, but at least I am trying to help you which is more than anyone else would do!’

With that I race around the 3-d map and fly out of the emergency exit at the back of the Visitor’s Center. Once outside I pick up the skirts of my gown and run, heading as far away from the Sith Lord as I can get.

***

The door slams shut in my face as she flees from me.

For a moment my anger prompts me to go after her, so I open the door and watch her run past the various telescopes, skirts in hand, as fast as she can manage. Maia won’t get very far. I can follow at a more leisurely pace and drag her back later. She will be easier to handle and less able to resist me once she has exhausted herself with her mad, headlong flight.

I close the door again, look at the galactic map a fourth time, and weigh my position.

She wasn’t lying to me after all. And it probably never occurred to her to take me in here because I didn’t tell her I was lost. Everything she has done has been to aid, not hinder or harm me, and she just admitted that no one else on this world would do that.

And she had the courage to stand up to me, despite what it might cost her, when she knew I was wrong. I can only admire her for that. I have encountered very few beings who have ever been brave enough to confront me like that.

Brave, stubborn, defiant little goddess. How much like your namesake you are. Ancient myths state that she is as difficult to control as you are. And as passionate in her convictions.

I give my head a shake.

Maia stood up to me. Justifiably put me in my place. Even after I hurt her, threatened her, planned to do far worse to her.

And despite everything I did to her, not once was she afraid of me.

You have passed your third trial my fearless little goddess.

There is only one more thing left to test.

***

I flee to the end of the synthesis array before my lungs give out and sit down on the end rail to catch my breath. There is no sign of ensuing pursuit, so I try to get a hold of myself.

Stupid, Maia, really stupid, I tell myself. Now you have probably riled him up to no end. But, I argue back, I doubt that anyone has stood up to him like that in years. Then why do I feel like crying? Stress relief, the technical side of my mind drags out, and you have been under enough of that the last few days to break most people. I decide to make a quick review of my feelings for him, and discover, to my shock, that I am still attracted to, still in love with, the man. With that thought, finally, completely overwhelmed by it all, I do burst into tears.

Eventually I cry myself into exhaustion and slide to the ground, using the rail as a back support. I haven’t had a bout like that in years - not since I was burned in fact - but I guess I needed it. Too tired to move, I decide to just stay where I am for a while. There has been no sign of Vader at all so I doubt he has figured out where I am, not that I want him to find me anyway. To occupy my mind, I start counting the birds flying overhead. At some point I slide into a doze, and then sleep.

When I am jostled awake, I find myself wrapped in a black cloak, being carried in the Dark Lord’s arms along the synthesis array back to the observatory. I struggle for a moment, but he only tightens his grip on me.

‘Stop that, Maia,’ he warns, ‘you have given yourself a rather bad chill by falling asleep in the cold. I need to get you inside and warmed up before any damage occurs.’

‘Put me down,’ I try to order. ‘I am not going to be dragged about any longer.’

‘That,’ he admits, ‘was a mistake.’

His admission surprises me. I stop fighting to get out of his embrace and quietly consider his words. A mistake? He is willing to own up that he behaved badly? Time to have a quick think. Vader reacted the way I would expect him to, I guess, and it must have been quite a shock to discover that he was nowhere near where he thought he was. Since he is Force blind, he had no way to know I was telling the truth. No wonder he was so determined to drag it out of me - he didn’t want to accept what I was telling him because in his view it was an impossibility. Much the same as his being here was to me at first.

‘You have grown rather quiet,’ he observes. ‘What are you thinking about?’

‘Impossibilities,’ I softly tell him.

We are back at the parking lot now, and I am carried into my apartment and set down on the bed. The Sith Lord pulls off his gloves, and checks my body temperature by setting one hand on my forehead and slipping the other down the back of my dress. His metal hands feel warm against my skin.

‘You are badly chilled, but not hypothermic,’ he announces, then orders, ‘Out of the gown and into bed. I will join you in a few minutes.’

Once he is out of the room, I hastily comply, putting a nightgown on before pulling the sheets over me. Body heat, I know, is the quick treatment for being chilled, and while I would prefer to have a hot bath instead, I decide it’s not worth arguing with him about it.

When he returns, he tosses his cloak over the bed as an extra blanket and I am taken into his arms as he has done on the previous two nights. He is careful to hold me as close as he can, and his body temperature seems a bit higher, too. Warm, it feels nice and warm next to him, and I start to drift off again.

He gives me a shake, scolding, ‘Stay awake and talk to me.’

‘Why are you so warm?’ I blurt out.

Good one, Maia. Stupid question to ask.

‘I can adjust the temperature of my body armor as needed,’ the Sith Lord admits.

‘Oh,’ is my short reply. So that’s why the cold on Hoth didn’t affect him. I consider what to ask next, and my curiosity gets the better of me. ‘Does it bother you to not be able to sense the Force? What is it like?’

‘Full of questions, aren’t you?’ he replies.

‘I’m a scientist. I am supposed to ask questions,’ I tell him. ‘You don’t have to answer.’

‘Your curiosity will be the death of you,’ the Sith Lord warns, ‘Learn to rein it in before it does so.’

My stubborn streak rears its head. ‘You told me to ask you a question and you never answered it.’

‘Yes, and I never said I would answer it, now did I?’ he calmly states.

Frustrated with my lack of success, I lay silent in his arms, considering what to do next. He’s amusing himself by toying with me, and I don’t like it very much. Time for another tactic, and perhaps a dangerous one because I don’t know where it could lead. At least he won’t be expecting it.

‘Why don’t you stay here with me? You don’t have to go back. My mother can figure out how to look after whatever your requirements are,’ I offer, ‘and my father and uncle would be more than happy to find you something to do with your expertise. Maybe you could even be Sam’s replacement so he can finally retire.’ I feel him stiffen in surprise, so I keep going, ‘If you’d rather have a university position, I could probably come up with something there too. Or, your technical knowledge would be worth a fortune in private industry.’

The Dark Lord remains silent at my offer, thinking about it, I assume. Good. About time I turned the tables on him.

‘Not possible,’ he finally answers.

‘Why not?’ I am not going to let him be evasive this time.

‘My master would never allow it, for one, and I find the absence of the Force extremely disturbing. To live the rest of my life with that... No, not possible,’ he firmly concludes. ‘Don’t question me on this again.’

Rats. Back to square one. At least I now know that not sensing the Force is bothering him far more than he is letting on. Time to try something different. Before I lose my nerve, I take my hand and lay it over the one he has on my waist. He makes no move to stop me, so I brush my fingers over the top of his glove. Still no response. I lace my fingers in his and pull his hand tighter around my waist. Better. Vader squeezes my hand in return, an action which surprises me. Is he flirting again, I wonder?

We are both silent for a few minutes, then he pulls his hand out of mine and uses his other, which is resting on my shoulder, to pull off his glove. His bare hand touches my face, then is set on my chest, before returning to my stomach.

‘Your core body temperature is still low,’ he informs me, ‘so you need to stay here with me for a while longer. Once you are warmed up, you should eat and then I will teach you how to dance.’

‘Since you won’t answer my questions, could you tell me a story instead?’ I suggest.

‘What?’ is his startled response.

‘Tell me about a planet you’ve been to or what your childhood was like,’ I prompt. ‘You know, a story. I told you enough of them yesterday when you were looking through my picture collection.’

***

A story? She wants to hear a story? About me?

If it keeps her quiet for a while, then I will give her one.

‘Oh, very well, then,’ I concede, ‘if that’s what it takes to keep you from asking any more impertinent questions.’

I hesitate for a few minutes, thinking, trying to come up with something suitable.

‘Are you going to tell me one or not?’ she prods.

‘Yes,’ I reply, a bit irritated at her insistence, ‘now be quiet and I’ll tell you about another time I was stranded somewhere.’

‘It was many years ago, about four years after the end of the Clone Wars, in fact...

I let my memories pull me in, remembering those events which happened on Talasea. The version I will tell Maia will be edited, of course. There are some things she does not need to know, like how I systematically had every single inhabitant of that world’s farming colony killed for harboring a Jedi.

‘I had been hunting a fugitive Jedi Knight,’ I tell her. ‘He had fled from system to system, always managing to elude me somehow. Always one step ahead.

‘At last I tracked him to Talasea, a planet in the Morobe system with a large farming colony. This time I did not tell anyone where I was headed, nor take anyone with me, for I was certain someone was passing intelligence on my movements to him. In hindsight that would prove to be a mistake.

‘He knew I was coming for him, so to draw me away from his hosts, he met me in space, above one of the uninhabited island continents. We wove in and out of the atmosphere of that fog wrapped planet with our fighters, sometimes he chased me, sometimes I, him. Eventually one of us was going to have a lucky shot connect. Unfortunately, in desperation, he finally decided to meet me head on. Both our fighters were crippled from the blasts we fired at one another.

‘My ship spiraled as the stabilizers blew and I fought to keep it from spinning completely out of control. He was in no better shape than I, so I followed him down to the surface. I plowed into the ground not too far from where he crashed into a thicket.

‘The impact threw me forward into my fighter’s control panel. The twisted and crumpled frame of the cockpit collapsed on top of me, and I was pinned in place by that and the shaft of metal which had broken free and pierced my shoulder. I knew I didn’t have much time before he would come looking for me, if he had survived, that is, so I shoved the debris off of myself with the Force and pulled the cracked rod from my body.

‘It was only a short distance to where his ship had hit the earth and disintegrated. He was hanging from the harness, still strapped in place, already dead, so I did not have to do any more than check to make sure of that. I walked back to my fighter to deal with my injury. Only after I had bound it up did I discover that my homing beacon was damaged and unusable. When I returned to the site of his crash, I found that there was nothing of any use I could salvage from it.

‘I had no way to call for help, no way to let anyone know I was there, and no one knew where I was. The continent I was on was uninhabited, with no settlements or even an emergency station I could go to and send a message from.

‘I was stranded.

‘Talasea is a cold, damp world, Maia, and although it is forested with kaha trees, and covered with bright blue oceans and islands, it is not a very pleasant place to be stuck - as I was soon to find out.

‘Once I was sure I had no means of communication, I spent what little remained of the afternoon making myself a shelter from parts of my ship and getting a fire going since it was the rainy season and a heavy downpour had started. By the time I was finished, my robes were soaked, my armor was damp, and I was beginning to feel the cold despite my attempts to adjust the temperature settings on it. I needed that fire. I also did not know what predators might be lurking and wanted to be prepared for any possible attack.

‘It was a good thing I was ready.

‘I was sitting by my fire trying to dry out and warm up, while I was busy deciding what my best course of action would be, when I heard the cries of animals under attack in the distance. There was silence for almost an hour after that. Then the avian creatures in the trees near me started, took to the air. That’s when I knew that something was approaching me, so I reached out with the Force to find out what it was. There were a large number of very frightened animals heading in my direction. But I didn’t really need to use the Force to tell me I was in trouble. I could hear the pounding hooves and sounds of panicking banthas quite clearly now.

‘Whatever was pursuing them, it was driving them right at me.

‘A herd of stampeding banthas is an impressive sight, Maia, one I saw only once as a child on Tatooine. Those ones, though, were tame, while these were feral, descendants of animals brought in by the colonists centuries ago. There was no point in trying to divert them since they would only attack in response. I did the only thing I could - got out of their way as fast as I could manage. Just before they burst into the clearing I was camped in, I leapt up into one of the kaha trees and hung onto the trunk for dear life while they stormed through, ruining my shelter and stamping out the fire.

‘I was not at all pleased by this development.

‘Once they were well away from the area, I jumped to the ground and surveyed the damage. It didn’t take long to gather up some more wood and relight the fire, but much of what I had used to build a roof to sit under had been destroyed. Somehow I cobbled something together and resumed my place.

‘I was wet, cold, frustrated, and wondering what I was going to do about the situation.

‘Then I sensed another animal heading in my direction. I was not going to lose the results of my efforts a second time, so I ignited my lightsaber and stood there, waiting for whatever it was to appear.

‘It was an injured rycrit. The poor thing was in bad shape, limping and crying in pain, so I dispatched it immediately, and dragged it to the side of the clearing so I wouldn’t have to look at it.

‘A few minutes after that I had another visitor.

I pause a moment, remembering that encounter. Maia stirs in my arms, obviously wanting me to continue.

‘He was dirty, shabby, and needed a haircut, bath, and new clothes in the worst way. The uniform he was wearing was in rags, and from the long unkempt hair and beard he must have been living without any access to civilized facilities for quite some time. We stared at one another, both too surprised to say anything.

‘My dinner,’ he finally said to me, ‘What did you do with it?’

‘I guessed he meant the poor creature I had killed, so I pointed to where I had left it. He ignored me for a minute, and went to check that I hadn’t taken any of it for myself, I suppose. Not that I would have eaten any of it even if I could have. I was never that fond of rycrit and this one was old, tough, and stringy looking.

‘The entire time he was examining the carcass, I observed him. He was wearing the tattered remains of a commando’s dress uniform with a battered Lieutenant’s rank bar still visible on it. Every move he made was calculated, controlled, wary. Whoever this was, he was a trained warrior and quite the survivor, judging from how long he must have lived on his own.

‘I decided to find out who he was and how he had ended up in the same predicament I was now in myself.

‘Rank, name, and posting, soldier,’ I ordered from him.

‘He stiffened in response, but automatically replied, ‘Lieutenant Thirsk of the Courageous, my Lord.’

‘I recognized the name of the ship, of course. It had disappeared in this quadrant the year before. Thirsk, though, was unfamiliar to me, but from his reply, he knew who I was.

‘And how did you come to be here?’ I asked.

‘Thirsk’s answer did not surprise me. A freak accident exiting hyperspace had destroyed the frigate he was on. The rescue pod he had been in crashed onto a beach along the nearby coast during a storm. Two other crewmen survived their rough landing, but died shortly after; one of an infection from his wounds, the other from the bite of a poisonous lizard. Only the Lieutenant had been cautious and clever enough to survive.

‘And he was just as stranded as I was.

‘We spent the evening sitting by my fire, Thirsk roasting his dinner on a stick over the flames while we discussed what we might do to escape. I knew my limits - there was only so much time before I would be in trouble for I had nothing I could use to sustain myself with.

‘I now carry enough medical supplies in my TIE and personal shuttle that it is not as great a concern, Maia,’ I tell her when she stiffens a little, obviously worried about me. ‘I learned that lesson from this particular adventure.’

‘Thirsk suggested we go to the tree house he had built for himself. It would be safer there, above the forest floor, and I would be able to look through what little he had salvaged from the pod. I bundled up what might be useful from my ship and followed him. The walk took us back along the path of destruction the banthas had made in their panic, one he admitted he had inadvertently caused while hunting the rycrit.

‘We came out on a hill overlooking the ocean. It was a most impressive sight. A reef protected the bay from the waves, but with the storm which was now approaching, the water was being driven over that barrier in large waves by the wind, up and onto the beach. Lightening was starting to flash around us, so we hurried to Thirsk’s treetop shelter.

‘It was an ... interesting experience climbing up the vine ladder in that storm,’ I wryly admit, ‘and the little room he had built between the large branches was not designed to hold two. Our quarters were cramped and uncomfortable, but they were dry and I was still a bit wet, so I didn’t complain about it at the time. Anything was better than being out in that storm.’

‘The following morning, I spent my time tinkering with the homing device from my ship, using bits from the ruined one he had recovered from the pod to repair what damage I could. Thirsk volunteered to comb the beach for anything else that might be of use since the storm had substantially moved things around.

‘By noon he brought back a number of bits, all of them useless. We needed one essential component to make the beacon work.

‘For two more days we searched that beach, looking, hoping to find it. It wasn’t until I used my lightsaber to deal with a few of the local venomous lizards that it occurred to me that the solution had been at my side all along.

‘I dismantled my ‘saber pulled the component out that was missing, and sent out the necessary signal immediately. A water skiff from the settlement came to retrieve us the next day.

‘Thirsk reminds me of my forgetfulness from time to time. I think he still resents the two extra days he had to eat that tough old rycrit because of it.’

***

I listen intently as he recounts his yarn, recording every word in my memory. When I have the chance, I decide, I will type it into my computer so I don’t forget any of it. As he tells me about his close calls, I flinch. He could so easily have died several times, yet he puts no more emphasis on those incidents than any other part of his tale. The second time I cringe, he slips his hand over mine, and moves both of them to rest just below my collarbones, holding me tighter against his chest. Curious that, his reaction to mine. Something to puzzle out later.

When he falls silent, it takes me a few seconds to realize that Vader has finished his story. Wondering if he will tell me more, I ask, ‘And what happened next?’

‘That’s another story for another day. Now, let me see how you are faring.’ He repeats his check of my temperature, then tells me, ‘You have warmed up quite sufficiently. Time to get up. After your lesson, we need to finish the last of the repairs to my TIE.’

I am left to myself immediately after he says this, and debate which gown to put on. The blue one from yesterday and this morning, or the red one I wore to confront him earlier today? Blue, I decide, will be much safer. Once dressed, I head for the kitchen, noting that the Sith Lord has returned to the Visitor’s Center for another look around. Tired of sandwiches and wanting something warm, I settle for a mug of soup which I quickly drain.

Next, I am off to track down my dance instructor. I find him standing by the map display, deep in thought. My shoes click against the floor as I go down the stairs, so I know he is aware of me, although he gives no sign he is. Stopping a few meters behind the Dark Lord, I decide to do something rather reckless, even for me. Careful that my steps are still audible, I walk up to him and slide my arms around his waist from behind, much as he had done with me on the roof last night. There is a break in his breathing as I do so, a surprised inhalation, and I wait to see if he will move to shake me off. Instead, he turns in my arms and I find myself wrapped in a crushing embrace, one of his arms around my waist, the other resting along my spine with his hand holding my head against his shoulder. A moment later, he loosens his hold on me, still keeping his arms as they were.

***

I hear Maia’s footsteps stop, pause behind me. They resume, draw nearer. She is very close to me now.

Then I feel her hands touch my sides, slide around my waist. Her cheek rests against my shoulder blade and I can feel her body heat against my back. She has wrapped both her arms around me and is holding me to herself.

I breathe in a gasp.

Forgiveness. From her.

I never expected her to do this.

Not after what I did to her.

I spin about in her arms, hold her far tighter to myself than she held me.

Little goddess, what a mate you will be for me.

But now I must prepare her for her last test. I loosen my grip and begin to speak.

***

‘Maìá,’ he begins, then lapses into a language I don’t understand.

Is this what spoken Sith sounds like? There are harsh consonants but also beautiful syllables, like the ones he uses in my name. Entranced, I commit every word to memory, even though I have no idea what it means. When he finishes, the Sith Lord repeats a set of four phrases several times, ending with my name each time, then waits, obviously expecting me to do something. Taking a wild guess that he is apologizing to me, I assume he expects me to repeat the same phrases ending with his name, so I do so, but with a few misplaced accents and mistakes in the vowels due to my lack of familiarity with the language. When I am finished, I feel him go rigid in my arms, and know that whatever I just said was not what he expected to hear.

***

I finish laying the paths in her mind that I will need for her last challenge, weaving them from the words I speak. She will be susceptible to whatever suggestion I decide to use.

There is only one more thing to say.

I repeat it carefully several times, making sure she will remember it accurately later. This is important. My master will ask her if I did this, said this to her.

When I finish, she repeats my own words back to me, completing them with my name, not hers.

I stiffen in shock.

She does not know the implications, understand the consequences, of what she has so very foolishly just done.

And I am afraid to tell her what they are lest I lose her as a result.

***

‘Maìá, do you know what you have just done?’ he asks me, shocked.

Since I haven’t the slightest clue, I simply shake my head against his shoulder.

‘Accepted your apology?’ I guess.

‘No, something else entirely,’ Vader flatly states, back in control of himself.

‘What exactly did I just do?’ My curiosity is in overdrive. I must have said something pretty outrageous for it to have prompted the reaction from him that it did.

‘Thoroughly mangled what I said, completely changing the meaning of it,’ he tells me. ‘Be thankful I choose not to act on what you have sworn and that there are no witnesses.’

The Dark Lord still hasn’t told me what the fuss is about.

Alright, I’ll try and get it out of him another way, so I ask, ‘What if I told you I wanted you to act on it?’

There is another break in his breathing, quickly controlled.

‘You don’t even know what you just swore to me, what the consequences are,’ he scolds, ‘so why are you foolishly asking me to act on it?’

‘Then tell me!’ I blurt out since I am beginning to get frustrated by his evasive answers. ‘I want to know!’

‘Since you insist, then. You offered your heart, your body, your life, your soul, to me, Maìá,’ he divulges. ‘You changed several words, and instead of using your name, you used mine instead. Now, do you still want me to accept your pledge, your oath?’

Since I am held firmly in his arms it is impossible for him to see my face, but my surprise must be evident to him from my physical reaction. Well, Maia, I think, now what are you going to say? Do you want to be bound, body and soul to Darth Vader? Well, I do love the man and from his behavior, there is probably something on his side too, even though he will never admit it. But he will be gone tomorrow and there is no way I can go with him. Surely there is no harm in giving him this oath since he is leaving? A gesture of friendship, that is all my words will be.

‘Yes, my Lord,’ I answer, ‘I do.’

The Sith Lord’s hand, which he had started to run through my hair, stops abruptly, and he uses it to tip my face to where he can look at me. I have surprised him again, I guess, so I wait quietly for his response.

‘You are offering yourself freely, willingly, and without any conditions?’ he asks, and I can hear amazement in his voice.

I confirm with a nod.

‘You do realize, Maìá, that from the moment I accept your words, you are bound, sworn to me and me alone,’ he explains, ‘on this world or anywhere else. The pledge you just gave me is permanent, binding. There will be no way to release you from it. Your life will be mine. You will be mine.’

‘Yes, my Lord, I understand,’ I affirm, sounding more certain of myself than I am.

‘Then I accept your offer, your pledge to me, my Lady,’ he decides, ‘even though I cannot properly act on it here.’

There is the slightest hint of regret in his voice, and I wonder exactly what he means by ‘acting on it.’ Pleased he has accepted my oath, unintentional as it was, I happily set my head against his shoulder. Vader has left the temperature turned up on his armor and it is warm here in his arms. I am allowed only a few minutes more in his embrace, though, before he gently pulls my arms from around his waist.

‘You have warmed up again and it is time for your lesson. Go play the music you selected earlier,’ he tells me.

Darn. He would remember why we are here. I stay standing close to him, hoping he will wrap me in his arms again, but I am firmly pushed away.

‘Part of your oath includes obedience, Maia. Do as you are told,’ the Sith Lord orders.

No choice is left to me, so I quickly comply, and the familiar sounds of Strauss fill the air. When I return to the map room, Vader has removed and draped his cloak over the railing and is working out the steps to a waltz. I watch him intently as he repeats the pattern in time to the music, dancing with an invisible partner. He’s actually very good, I quickly realize. Now there’s something I would never have anticipated. Knowing he will expect me to join him, I pay careful attention to where he is putting his feet and the order of the steps. It looks simple enough, but this is me we are dealing with. All I can hope is that I don’t step on his feet or trip up too many times.

He beckons me over and takes me by the hand as he instructs, ‘Maia, I will walk you through the steps a few times beside me. That way you can learn the pattern first without having to deal with what I will be doing.’

It proves to be a wise decision. Ten minutes later, I finally have the pattern memorized and can manage it without having to think too much about what I am doing. I must admit that he does have patience, despite his famous protests to the contrary. Anyone else would have given up on me as totally hopeless by now.

The waltz which is playing draws to an end, and Vader pulls me into a proper dance hold. We wait for the next piece to start, and when it does, I find myself easily following his lead across the floor. Somehow he knows when I am going to misstep and turns my potential fumbles into a pivot or spin. Cool. Dancing with him is going to be great fun. I let myself relax, and enjoy just moving about the room in his arms.

‘You have been rather quiet,’ the Dark Lord notes.

‘No choice,’ I reply, ‘if I don’t concentrate on where my feet are, I’ll step on you.’

‘Unlikely. I can anticipate what you will do and compensate for it.’ I miss a beat as he says this, and he effortlessly turns me to cover it. ‘See,’ he affirms, ‘no problem.’

As the music ends, he spins me about and finishes the waltz on one knee in front of me, my hands held in his. I stare at him in surprise, not sure what to do next.

‘Another dance, my Lady?’ he asks.

‘I would be honored, my Lord.’ No way I am going to turn this opportunity down.

He retrieves his cloak from the railing and tosses it around his shoulders. Then I am back in his arms as another waltz starts. It’s different with his cloak swirling about us, and I suspect that my black dress with the full skirt will also billow out in the same fashion. We are going to be quite the sight at the party, I happily think to myself. As he prepares to finish up, I take the lead from him, and instead of the Sith Lord kneeling on the floor, I am.

‘Another dance, my Lord?’ I ask.

He laughs a little, then answers, ‘One more, then to work. We both have a great deal to do today.’

The third waltz ends all too soon, and we are heading back to my apartment. Vader leaves me to change into more practical clothes, and goes to his TIE. Once dressed, I spend an hour setting up the observations for tonight and then join him in the workshop. As before, he has a number of parts set out on the work bench, but I am more concerned with how the gas mix will be transferred from an Earth manufactured storage tank to whatever is used on his fighter. While he works away piecing things together, I rummage through a box of high pressure valves, regulators, hoses, and couplers. It takes me about half an hour to assemble a representative selection of the various connectors, and I lay what I have found beside the components that the Sith Lord is busy working on. I will sort out which ones will be of use once I have finished helping him with his own task.

Time passes quickly, and the second set of repaired components is installed in the TIE. I explain the potential problems attaching the pressurized gas tank to the Dark Lord, who has already given the problem some thought. He looks through the bits and pieces I have laid out, selects a few, and takes them to the fighter to see which ones might be suitable. Fortunately, there is one regulator which fits the piping in his ship, and it is easy to change the threading to match with the tools I have available. The last task is to sort out what the relative ratios of the gases are, so we go to my office, which is considerably warmer than the workshop, to do so.

While the kettle is heating for my tea, I retrieve the notebook I used the other day from my office. The element chart is still on the table, so I use it to indicate which gases I am talking about as I go through the last task of the day. By the time I am satisfied that I know exactly what I need to do in my lab tomorrow, my tea is ready and I am hungry and tired.

Something else must be done, my brain nags - e-mail, I realize with a start. I haven’t sent in our party profiles and unless I want a mess on my hands I had better do it. With a sigh, I wander back to my office, Sith Lord trailing behind. The lap-top is still on and logged into the system, so I call up my e-mail and look for the message I need. Now is also the time to explain the rules of the party to my date.

‘The costume party we are going to has a set of very specific rules,’ I start, ‘rules everyone has to follow, even Nigel, though he will do his best to push the limits. I will try and make sure I stay with you as much as I can to prevent trouble.’

Yes, Maia, leaving him on his own, especially if certain questions are asked could be dangerous, if not a disaster.

‘And these rules are?’ he asks.

I do my best to carefully explain the rules, hoping I can prevent any incidents by making him understand how to behave.

‘First rule: Everyone has to stay in character. For you, be yourself. For me, I have to act however your wife would, discuss topics she would know about and so on. This rule usually gets relaxed quite quickly as the evening goes on and faculty start to talk shop. There tends to be a few people dressed as mythical beings and other oddities, so don’t be too surprised by who or what might turn up. Some of the students can get very creative.’

‘Second rule: Diplomatic immunity applies to everyone. If someone shows up pretending to be a Jedi, you can’t go challenging them to a duel and you must be civilized. I suspect Nigel will try exactly this stunt just to provoke you since I am his current target of choice. Ignore him, or maybe give him a good scare, but don’t do anything rash and don’t hurt him.’

‘Third rule: We can put limits on what can be asked or discussed, so if you would rather not be bothered about the latest fleet movements, or recent battles you have been in, I can send a message detailing appropriate topics of conversation. It might be a good idea to disconnect the powercell in your lightsaber, too, because you might be subjected to the odd show and tell session.’

‘Questions?’ I finish.

‘Similar rules apply to some of the formal costume fetes on Imperial Center,’ Vader reveals, ‘though few would dare to dress as a Jedi. I think I can keep within your rules, but I will not tolerate any rudeness to you from your colleague, nor will I put up with impertinent questions from anyone.’

‘Except me?’ I tease.

‘In public, no,’ he firmly replies. ‘You will behave in an appropriate manner then.’

I knew that was coming from his etiquette lesson the other day. Rats. Time to fill in the forms notifying the dance committee that we will be there, and who as. Mine is simple enough, but I take my time filling in his. I am careful to note that the only topics which can be discussed are related to the first of the old movies. Hopefully this will limit the number of potentially embarrassing questions.

‘Are there any topics you would like people to talk to you about?’ I ask. ‘I have to put something down. What about ship or engine design?’

Nice neutral topic, I think to myself.

‘Acceptable,’ he agrees.

E-mail finished, I hit send and check my inbox for anything else that might need looking after right away. A few students asking when their midterms will be handed back, reminders of committee meetings, the odd junk mail, but nothing to really worry about. Tomorrow morning I will have to check the list of who will be at the party and who they are dressed as. Screening it will help avoid problems later in the day.

Satisfied that there is no more I can do, we leave my office to return to my apartment for the evening. A quick supper, and I am ready to go to bed. Morning will come all too soon, and tomorrow will be a very busy day. The Sith Lord is sitting in what I now think of as his chair, quietly watching me tidy up the kitchen. This will be his last night here with me, and I am already beginning to miss him. I finish my tasks and slip into the bedroom to change.

‘Maia,’ he calls after me, ‘I wish to meditate for a while. Go to sleep and I will be in later.’

I shut the door, change into a nightgown and curl up in bed. He has not done this before, but three days or more without any contact with the Force other than what is in his own body must be driving him crazy. Perhaps he just wants to settle and quiet his mind. At some point I drift off to sleep, noting that he has still not come to bed.

***

I watch her go, shutting the door after herself.

A choice. I have a choice to make now.

I get up out of the chair and pace for a few minutes.

I stop by the bedroom door, hand stretched towards the handle. After standing there for a few minutes without making a decision, I return to the chair and stare at the door.

Maia stayed in my arms.

She showed no fear.

She has been loyal to me at every turn.

And she forgave me.

Me!

She forgave me.

I unhook my cloak, letting it fall away from my shoulders, toss my gloves on the table in front of me, allow myself to slide into a trance, and begin to build the illusion.

My choice is made. I know what I am going to do.

***

Minutes or hours later, I wake as I hear the door open, and look up to see who is there. It is not Vader, but another man dressed in black robes. Surprised, I push myself into a sitting position and just stare at him. He is a head taller than I am, neither young nor old, with a handsome face and blondish brown hair. His piercing blue eyes hold me in place.

‘Who,’ I ask, ‘are you?’

He makes no reply, closes the door after himself and walks over to the bed to sit down beside me. I watch him nervously. Where is the Sith Lord? Surely he hasn’t let this stranger wander in without trying to stop him. Get a grip, Maia, talk to him and maybe you will find out what is going on.

‘You didn’t answer my question, so who are you?’ I try again.

‘I think you know,’ he answers.

I recognize his voice of course, but this is impossible. What has he done with his armor?

My confusion must have shown on my face because he continues, ‘Consider this to be a projection of what I would look like without my injuries.’

Now I really am bewildered. Dreaming. I must be having a rather vivid dream. Given my wild emotional swings the last two days, I guess I should have expected something like this to happen.

‘I’m dreaming this, aren’t I?’ I ask him. ‘You can’t be real.’

‘If you would prefer to think of it that way, then do so,’ he tells me, with amusement in his voice.

Well, if this is a dream, then there shouldn’t be any substance to him. I reach over to touch his face, and my fingers brush against warm flesh. Startled, I begin to yank my hand back, but he catches it in his own, brings it to his mouth and kisses me on the palm. Well, Maia, this is turning out to be quite the dream. He keeps a hold of my hand and pulls me into his chest with his other. Both of his hands move to cup my face, and I make no attempt to resist him. I am far too surprised to do anything at the moment.

‘I want to kiss you,’ he tells me, before setting his lips to my own.

His kiss is gentle, sweet, and I try to respond in kind. Since this is only a dream, I decide, I am going to enjoy it fully. Sliding down from my face, his hands brush against my body. My face blushes and he laughs a little at my embarrassment. When he kisses me again, I decide that this is definitely the most vivid dream I have ever had. As I try to lean back into my pillow, he pulls me in closer to his chest, then eases me onto my back, resting himself on one elbow, his other arm draped over top of me. I watch him look at me, wondering what he is going to do next.

‘You are a beautiful woman, Maia,’ he says, letting his eyes roam over my body and face.

His scrutiny bothers me, so I pull one of the sheets up.

‘Shy, aren’t you?’ he observes with a quiet chuckle. ‘Shall I do something about that?’

Shy? Most certainly.

His hands lightly run over my body, before returning to stroke my hair and face. I like his touch, the way it feels against my skin. The sheet gradually slides down with his movements and his mouth quickly finds mine again.

‘You are mine, Maia,’ he reminds me.

I give my head a shake of denial, but that doesn’t stop him. Gentle fingers take my hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, and I finally relax a little. He has done nothing to harm me, and I do like being kissed by him. For a dream, this is certainly the best one I have ever had. I feel him withdraw his hand, and he sits up to remove his belt, boots, and robes, throwing them aside on the floor. Nice body, I think to myself, lots of muscles and no excess weight anywhere. Too shy to give him the same scrutiny he did me, I content myself with looking at his chest and arms.

When he lifts his hands to remove my nightgown, I don’t resist, and the next kiss is one I start, not him.

Later, much later, he shifts a little beside me, loosening his arms from about my waist. He intends to go and I know my dream is about to end.

‘Stay with me, please, my love, don’t leave me,’ I beg him, wanting to prolong this dream as long as I can.

In answer, he holds me secure in his embrace, stroking my hair until I grow drowsy again, and speaking soft words in Sith to me as he does. When he sees that I am almost asleep, he brushes a hand over my stomach, then holds it still and looks down at it with a surprised expression on his face. A small, satisfied smile appears next, then he returns his hand to resume caressing my face.

‘My love, my little wife,’ he finally tells me, ‘I must go now, but I won’t ever leave you.’

He moves from the bed then, dresses in his robes, and bends over me.

‘A dream, Maia, I am only a dream,’ he whispers in my ear, an oddly compelling tone in his voice.

Then he lightly kisses my lips and slips out the door. My mind slides deeper into sleep at his departure.

I hear the Sith Lord’s slowed regulated breathing when he finally joins me. He tosses the covers onto us from where they have been carelessly thrown and gently shifts me from where I am laying sprawled across the bed, over and into his arms. I happily let him draw me to him.

My fuzzy brain wakes a little, so I tell him, ‘I had the strangest dream, and you were in it.’

‘Was I really?’ he replies, and I hear amusement and, to my great surprise, a touch of something else, something completely unexpected in his voice.

‘Sleep now, Maia,’ he softly tells me, in that odd tone of voice, ‘it was only a dream.’

Mon. Feb. 12.

***

It’s morning and she is still sleeping soundly in my arms. I shift a little, pulling myself back so I can look at her, but she does not stir. Today I will spoil her, I decide. I will indulge her in every way I can since I will soon be unable to do so.

‘Sleep, Maia,’ I whisper in her ear when her eyelids flutter at my movements. ‘You are just having a dream. Sleep.’

I pull off my left glove. I want to touch her again. Touch her with nothing between us once more.

Her skin is so soft, so delicate, I observe as I run the fingers of my hand over her face. I trace the curve of her jaw, then move lower, brush across her waist, up along her side, noting the deep indent between hip and ribcage. She is too thin but that will soon change. I move my hand to her face again, to rest a finger across her mouth and feel her breath escaping from between parted lips.

She called my name, called me her love last night. And afterwards, she wanted me to stay. Didn’t want me to go.

I set my hand on her stomach, look within, marvel at what I see.

My son.

My heir.

So strong in the Force I can easily find him even now.

I move my hand to her face once more, touch her cheek.

Maia told me she loves me.

She loves me!

‘Beloved goddess,’ I call her, ‘my precious little wife. I will never leave you. Could never leave you. Do you know that?’

Maia stirs at my words. I want to stay, to hold her, to speak words of love to her. But it would be best if I left her to wake alone. She will be embarrassed to find herself nude, and I don’t want to upset her by being here when that happens.

She will remember last night when I need her to, but for now I will reinforce my words to her.

‘Maia, last night was a dream, nothing more. Only a dream,’ I tell her.

Then I replace my glove, toss the covers back over her, and go to practice ‘saber forms for a while.

Lady Vader needs her rest.

***

When I wake, Vader is gone from my side. Tossing back the covers, I am shocked to discover that I am nude, my nightgown in a heap on the floor. Whoa, Maia, that must have been some vivid dream for you to strip that off. No wonder he left early - he was probably pretty embarrassed to come to bed and find you without a stitch of clothing on. The stress of the last few days has really started to get to you and your imagination is running wild. There is no help for it though, I suppose. I just hope he doesn’t say anything to me about it. With a sigh, I wrap my robe around me and head to the bathroom.

The Sith Lord is not in my apartment, so I guess he is trying to give me some space this morning. Since we don’t need to be at the university until the late afternoon, I have a leisurely bath, and take my time rolling my hair up in twists. I plan on going all out for this party, and there is just enough curl left in my last spiral perm to produce some nice ringlets if I leave my hair twisted up for most of the day. Finished with my hair, I wrap a bright scarf around it to hide the curlers. It will be mid-afternoon before my hair is dry and ready to unroll.

I grab a quick breakfast and decide to go looking for the Dark Lord. He is not in the Visitor’s Center, but I do catch a glimpse of him in the parking lot through its front doors. Hurrying outside to see what he is up to, I discover that he is busy with his lightsaber, obviously running through an intricate pattern of set moves. Totally cool, I think, as I happily seat myself at one of the picnic tables, chin propped on hands, to watch him with my expert eyes. He seems unaware that I am there; his concentration is completely focused on what he is doing. When he finishes the form I found him in the middle of, he stops and looks over at me.

‘You are well this morning, my Lady?’ he asks me.

What a peculiar question, I think. Maybe he has decided I was ill last night since he found me in bed naked. Or maybe he realizes that ... Nope, Maia, he can’t be that nosy about what you were dreaming about last night.

‘I am fine, my Lord. I slept well,’ is my neutral answer. Let him read what he wants into it. ‘Don’t stop your practice on my account. I like watching you run through ‘saber forms.’

‘Then I shall continue, my Lady, since it will please you,’ the Sith Lord replies.

With a graceful bow in my direction, he starts another form. He’s in a rather co-operative and congenial mood today. I wonder what has brought this on? Well, Maia, better enjoy it while it lasts. With a sigh, I settle in, and for the next hour, he runs through various styles and techniques, some which I recognize while others are new to me, finally finishing with a form containing a series of rapid spins and quick changes in the direction of both his body and blade. Difficult, I realize, very difficult. I know only a few swordsmen on Earth who could manage that, and to make it look that easy, wow. My older brother, perhaps, might have eventually approached Vader’s skill level, though not his speed, had Michael not been killed. As he ends, I start clapping, and the Dark Lord acknowledges my appreciation with another bow.

Shutting off his ‘saber, he joins me at the table. His breathing has been set faster, I note, to compensate for the exercise. For a long moment we sit in silence, and I am content just to stay near him. Then the wind starts to pick up, and I rub my hands over my arms to keep warm.

‘We should go inside, my Lady,’ he states, ‘I do not want you to become chilled again.’

He rises from his seat, and offers me his hand, which I take without hesitation. Once I am on my feet though, he slides an arm around my waist, and guides me back to the apartment with it. Possessive, I note as we enter the living room, he is being very possessive of me both in gesture and use of the formal address, just like a real boyfriend would. He must be practicing for the party. Well, I will respond in kind then to make it easy for him.

***

‘My Lord,’ Maia asks, ‘Is there anything you want me to do for you, anything at all? We have a few hours yet before leaving.’

As she speaks, her arms slip around my waist, her head tips up to look into my mask.

She has just offered everything to me.

Freely. Willingly.

Should I tell her what I want from her? Tell her what she is to me? The pattern of my breathing breaks with my inhalation at the possibilities.

But it is too soon. I cannot let her have any hints. Not here. Not yet.

I bring my hands up, set them around her face, say nothing at all for a time, simply look at her. Look at this woman who is my wife though she does not know it.

‘Want, my Lady?’ I quietly admit, ‘Yes. Have, now that is another issue.’

My hands slide down to her waist, then wrap around her back as I pull her firmly against my body. I want to hold her and she is willing. She responds with a happy sigh and snuggles up to me, rests her forehead against my chest armor above the control panel.

‘You like it when I hold you, don’t you?’ I ask.

She just nods an affirmative. Obviously I am correct about this.

It has been so very long since I have held someone I loved, held my Padme, my lost angel. My voice becomes slightly wistful with my next words to her.

‘Such a simple gesture to make, and yet you are the first in many years who is quite content just to stay in my arms. And also the only person I know who would even consider doing it now. Fearless, my Lady, you are completely fearless.’

Maia merely smiles at my observations and doesn’t reply. She must think I am trying to get rid of her. Her silence amuses me so I allow myself to laugh a little at it.

‘Quiet? Surely the impertinent one must have some question or another?’ I tease.

She stays silent, knowing I am trying to get her to talk, to give myself a reason to push her away.

‘Stubborn, too, aren’t you?’ I observe when she refuses to answer.

Her only reply is to pull me closer. I wait, but she still says nothing.

‘Very well. Stay where you are, then,’ I concede, ‘since you are determined to remain.’

If she wants to be held, then I will indulge her in this simple thing.

Maia sighs happily again and I feel her slight weight lean into my chest. I shift my balance in response and brush my hand down her back. There is no silky hair for me to touch today. It is bound up and covered with a scarf, so she must have something special planned for this party of hers.

After about ten minutes, she asks, ‘My Lord, there are still a number of hours to fill. What would you like to do with them?’

I consider how to answer this. There are many things we could do, but they can wait. At the moment, I want to know if her singing really is as bad as I think it is.

‘Sing for me, my Lady,’ I tell her, ‘I want to hear your voice again.’

***

He wants me to sing? Seriously? Well, Maia, you did ask him what he wanted to do. I release my grip around his waist, but the Dark Lord is slower, almost reluctant to let me go. An observation I file away for later.

Now, I need to figure out what to sing for him. Retrieving the folder with my Baroque cd’s, I start to flip through it. Handel is a definite possibility. Broschi, more tricky - I would have to leave off most of the ornaments. My voice is in no shape to handle them. Finally I settle on three pieces. Handel’s V’adoro pupille from Julius Caesar, Broschi’s Ombra fedele anch’io from Idaspe, and Porpora’s Or la nube procellosa. It’s a good thing I will be singing in Italian, since I don’t know how he might react to Cleopatra’s love song.

Vader seats himself in his chair, and I drop the selected cd’s into the stereo. Starting with the simplest piece, I spend the next half-hour singing for him. Luckily I finish without my voice breaking or any blatant mistakes.

He thankfully makes no comment until I am done, then notes, ‘You really must spend more time practicing.’

‘No criticism from the peanut gallery,’ I warn, ‘I haven’t sung any of these pieces in almost a decade.’

‘Peanut gallery?’

I start laughing. Better explain what I meant. ‘Years ago, the cheapest seats in theaters, where the most notorious heckling came from, were called that. When the performance was really bad, they would throw peanuts at the stage.’

From the tip of his head, the Sith Lord is still puzzled, so I go to the kitchen and take a bag of peanuts from the cupboard. Making sure he can’t see what I am up to, I select a few from it, whip around, and toss them at him. He reacts instantly, snatching them out of the air, then throwing them back at me. Two narrowly miss, but one catches me on the arm. Ouch. The fourth one, he examines carefully. I carry the bag back to the living room, drop onto the couch, and dump a few more out on the coffee table.

‘Peanuts,’ I say, breaking the shell off of one and eating it. ‘Almost all theaters ban them now. Makes too much of a mess, and performers today won’t put up with dodging them. Maybe you should take this bag back with you and aim them at one of those divas you were complaining about.’ I am teasing him, and somehow manage to keep my voice perfectly even, flat, as I do, much the way he has done with me on occasion.

***

Throw peanuts at those divas in the Opera House?

It takes me a moment to realize that she is teasing me. Then I start laughing at the ridiculous images my mind produces of singers dodging my missiles.

Maia is unexpectedly silent, staring at me. She did not expect this reaction to her comments.

‘You, my Lady,’ I finally scold her, ‘are not only impudent and impertinent, but incorrigible as well!’

She begins to laugh along with me, enjoying herself.

How relaxed she is with me now, how free in her words and body language. This is as it should be, as it will be. I do not want my wife to fear me.

‘Somehow,’ she tells me, ‘I can’t see that the Emperor would be too impressed if you actually followed my advice, especially if your target was a singer he liked.’

True, I admit to myself, but Palpatine goes more for appearances than for the singing.

‘Then I shall be careful that he doesn’t catch me,’ I slyly reply.

From the look on her face Maia can’t decide if I am being serious, or not. And I have given her no way to tell from my voice. She picks up her bag of peanuts, twists it shut, and hands it to me.

‘Go ahead and take them with you,’ she offers. ‘They might come in handy some day.’

I don’t know what I might do with them, but I take the bag from her hand anyway, transfer it to my other one, and catch hold of the hand she had just used to offer them to me. Time to do something else for a while and I feel like going outside.

‘Shall we go for a walk, my Lady?’ I ask.

Maia answers, ‘Yes, ’ and disappears into her bedroom, reappearing with a knee-length tunic over what she had on. Her green cloak and black ankle boots go on next, and then she is ready to go.

We make a quick stop at my TIE, and I stow the peanuts away in the small compartment where I keep my tool kit, humoring her. The wind has dropped again, the air is still, the sky clear. Tonight should be the same if the forecast she read me the other day was accurate. For now, the temperature is probably cool, not cold, bearable for a short walk, but it would not be wise to spend hours outside.

Rather than head south to the dry lake, we walk to the north, along the synthesis array, towards a draw in the east.

Maia tells me that a creek runs there during the Spring melt and run-off. In the Winter, what little water that is available should become a rather spectacular frozen waterfall.

I don’t object as she steers me along the path to where it is.

Finally we reach our destination, and I follow her over to one of the large flat-topped boulders which will serve as our seat. Before she can sit down, I step beside her. From what she told me the other day she needs to stay warm, and I don’t want to risk her becoming chilled in case it affects our child. I wrap my arm and cloak around her from behind, and then pull her backwards to sit next to me on the rock.

‘I do not want you to grow cold, my Lady,’ I justify my actions, ‘and we should not stay too long.’

***

‘Thank you, my Lord,’ I reply, pulling his cloak around myself. I don’t want to get cold, either.

I let myself lean against him, surprised by his fussing, but content to simply be where I am. He’s going to be gone soon, and I want to spend every minute I can with him, with the man I now know I love with all my heart. A part of my mind wonders again what it would be like to be his wife, his Lady. If my strange dream was at all accurate, he would be a most gentle and considerate lover. I let out a mental sigh. Unfortunately, I will never know if this would be the case. Well, Maia, I remind myself, you will get to play his wife in public for a few hours tonight, so enjoy it while you can.

Casting a sideways glimpse at the Dark Lord, I decide to flirt a little bit. Why not? The worst he could do is shove me away and storm off somewhere. I run a finger down from where his cloak is hooked to his armor, along the life support panel to his waist, then follow his belt around to his back. As I do this, I shift myself to half-face him before slipping my other hand around his back and resting my head on his chest. No response from him at all for a few seconds, then he wraps both his arms about me and pulls me in close.

‘My Lord, I would stay here with thee forever,’ I venture, hoping he will play along with me.

‘My Lady, I would keep thee in my arms for all eternity,’ he offers back.

Good, he’s willing to play the game of courtly love, and it sounds like he knows the rules and language patterns, too. This should be fun.

I take my right hand from where it is against his back and bring it to rest on his chest beside my face. He responds by mirroring my move with his left, but lays his own hand over mine instead of resting on my body.

‘Thou who art my most beloved wife,’ he states next.

What? He’s just broken the Medieval rule which forbids this sort of jesting between spouses. Maybe the guidelines are different where he comes from, so I will just go along with what he does instead. I guess he has also decided to act as if I am his wife, already following the role-playing criteria for tonight even though the party is still hours away. Well, I can do that, too.

‘Mine husband, mine own dearest love,’ I answer in kind. Now what? There are not too many more places we can go with this flirtation.

‘Thou who art my Lady, my love, mine soul’s other half,’ he replies, ‘thou art mine.’

Oh. Well. Let’s see what happens when I get a little bolder.

‘I love thee, my Lord, mine soul’s other half,’ I tell him, moving my hand up from under his to brush the cheek of his mask before stating, ‘I am thine.’

‘Shall I take thee back with me, my beloved? Would thou be this Sith Lord’s Lady?’ he asks, as he caresses my cheek then catches my hand in his own and returns them both to where they had been laying against his chest.

I did have to be forward with him, now didn’t I? So what does he mean? Back where? To the observatory? And have I just been propositioned or proposed to? No way to tell from his ambiguous choice of words, but it most certainly must be the former. I tip my head to look up at his mask, not sure what to say next. Vader responds by gazing down at me, and the silent seconds stretch into minutes while we stare at one another. He wants an answer, I finally realize, and I have no idea what to tell him.

‘Beloved,’ I finally say, ‘what dost thou want to hear from me?’

His hands move to hold my face while he still quietly looks into my eyes. He is not going to give me any hints at all about what he wants to hear from me.

***

I ask my questions of her and wait.

Will she answer now, when there is no illusion, no manipulation, as she did last night?

Will she confess her love for me, give her consent?

I give her no indication of what I want to hear from her, and wait, hoping to hear what I need to, yet fearing the negative, her rejection.

And then she tells me what I so desperately want her to say.

***

I shut my eyes and consider what to do. Well, Maia, what would you want? To be his lover, his Lady, or not? The Sith Lord will be gone tonight, and I love him. This will be my one and only opportunity to ever have him this way. I make my decision, ignoring my fears and reservations. If he wants to take me back to my apartment and make love to me for the next few hours, I vow I will let him do so.

‘Yes, my Lord, my beloved, my answers are yes,’ I quietly admit to him.

I feel his hands leave my face to move around to my back. Once they are there, he pulls me in tight to his chest and says nothing for a considerable time. It’s warm next to him, but the cold air is starting to have an effect on me regardless and I shiver a bit before I can stop myself.

‘If you are getting chilled, then we have spent too much time here, and must hurry back,’ he decides, breaking out of the speech pattern we had been using. ‘There are a few things I want to do still, and one of them requires your participation.’

My participation? Oh. I start blushing. So I was right that he was propositioning me. My reaction produces a chuckle and he lightly runs a finger down my cheek before moving his hand to my waist and helping me to my feet.

‘It was just a flirtation, Maia, not what you are obviously thinking,’ Vader tells me, sounding a touch amused, as he pushes himself off the rock.

That makes me go even redder with embarrassment. Well, I should have known better than to fall for that sort of teasing. I take a few steps backwards to get out of his way, hook my heel on a rock and start to fall. He lets out a quiet laugh, catches my hand, stopping my fall, and pulls me back into his arms.

‘You are more than a bit clumsy at times,’ he observes.

I nod my head which is now buried in his shoulder. There is no way I am going to say anything which might embarrass myself further. Well, at least he hasn’t made any more comments about my foolish assumption or the color of my face. After a few minutes, he pulls away from my embrace, slides a possessive arm around me again and I am carefully guided back towards the observatory.

***

She doesn’t shrug off my touch, but accepts my guidance, my arm around her.

I don’t want her to stumble or fall.

I see her curious glances, her puzzled looks as she tries to work out what I might be up to.

Little goddess, your face reveals far more than you think it does. You are an open book to me that way. I do not need the Force to tell what you are thinking.

You are wondering if I meant my words to you, if I am serious or not, or just teasing you.

You will find out the truth soon enough.

***

While we walk, I start thinking about what he had said. Even if he was just flirting, why did he ask those questions? And why was he so amused when I assumed he wanted to make love to me? As we go along, I cast surreptitious glances at him. When I add this to some of the things he has said and done in the previous days, there is only one conclusion I can make. He has been amusing himself by flirting with me, deliberately leading me on, and when I finally break down and admit that I want him, he treats it all like a game. That’s a mean trick to play on someone who loves him. If he knew how I really felt for him, would he treat me this way? Well, I will play his game along with him, but I won’t fall for another set-up like what he just used.

Once back at the research building, the Dark Lord heads inside and steers me unerringly to my office. What is he up to now, I wonder. We step through the door, and he waves me into my own chair while he claims the one I cleared for him on Friday for himself.

‘I need to document my time here,’ Vader admits. ‘Not for my own records, but in case the Emperor ever questions why I have been out of communication range for almost two weeks.’

I nod in response. This does not surprise me at all.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ I volunteer.

‘Yes,’ he confirms, ‘I need you to witness my statement, but you will have to learn how to write your Sith name in order to do so.’

Write in Sith? This sounds pretty cool. I open a drawer and pull out some note paper and pens. Vader picks up the paper, folds it and riffs it through he fingers, then shakes his head. Obviously it doesn’t meet his requirements.

‘Do you have anything heavier or for more formal documents?’ he asks.

This requires a bit of a think. There was some rag paper left over from my dissertations. The problem will be finding it. I get out of my chair and yank open the filing cabinet. A thorough search produces twenty or thirty sheets of the heavy, parchment-like paper. Returning to my chair, I hand him the stack, then dig out my set of fountain pens. If he wants to be formal, may as well do it properly.

I show the Sith Lord how to best hold the pens, and he quickly writes something in a flowing, cursive script. He turns the page to face me, hands me the pen and I know that is my turn to copy what he just did. Since I had carefully watched the order of the strokes, I have a good idea how to repeat it. My first attempt looks fine to me, but Vader shakes his head. Alright, I’ll try it again then.

While I continue to try and meet whatever standard he has, the Dark Lord begins quickly writing in Aurabesh on one of the other sheets. He has nice, neat handwriting, I decide, when I glance over at what he is doing. After finishing two sheets, he puts his own name in Sith at the bottom, folds the pages, and sets them aside, using one of my numerous ‘pet’ rocks to keep them folded flat. A second set of documents follow. Duplicate copies, I assume, until I see him continue past two pages with this one.

Once he adds his name to the most recently finished page, Vader looks over at my latest attempt at my own name in Sith.

‘Suitable,’ he decides, then orders, ‘write it here, at the bottom of my statement,’ pointing to a spot on the bottom of the sheet next to his own.

I quickly oblige, then look carefully at the Aurabesh text, wondering what he wrote about me and wishing I could read it. For a second or two I consider asking about it, then decide not to. He probably won’t tell me what’s in it in detail anyway. Vader takes the page from my hand, folds it with the other sheets he just finished and stacks those on top of the ones he had previously set aside. While I debate what I should do next, the Sith Lord starts sketching out blueprints. Well, he is obviously doing something important, so I will check my e-mail until he is finished.

My inbox has a number of messages marked urgent so I start with the oldest and work forward. Mostly stuff that could wait, I eventually decide. Today’s mail though is more useful. The guest list is out for the party, so I open the attachment and start looking. In typical fashion, the organizers have only sent out the names which apply to the costumes people will be wearing just to avoid spoiling any surprises. Not helpful at all, I conclude as I work my way through. There are a number of military titled characters, along with nobles and names obviously derived from science fiction. Blast it all, for the most part I have no idea who could be friend or foe, problem or no.

I glance over at the Sith Lord. Should I tell him that going to the party might not be such a good idea? Better be honest with him, I decide. He might think it quite odd if I cancel this now without an explanation.

‘My Lord,’ I start, then wait for him to look up at me.

‘My Lady,’ he acknowledges, setting the pen down, ‘What is it?’

‘The guest list for the party is out, but I don’t recognize most of the names,’ I admit. ‘There might be some faculty pretending to be rebels because Mon Mothma is on it. It might not be wise to go, especially since I have no idea what Nigel could be up to.’

‘A few of your friends playing at being rebels doesn’t concern me, Maia, and I told you before I would take care of that irritating colleague of yours if need be. Don’t worry about this,’ Vader reassures me. ‘I intend to fully enjoy the evening with you.’

He picks up the pen again and resumes his drawing. I wish I had some of his confidence about this. Something tells me that tonight is probably not going to unfold as either of us expects it to.

With a sigh, I return my attention to my e-mail. Oddly there has been nothing for the last few days from my two mischievous friends in the Anthropology Department. Scrolling down and back a ways, I find a quick note from Rick and open it. One of his graduate students has infected his computer with a virus. Again. No more messages from him until it’s fixed. Well, Rick and Bill will be at the party, no doubt, and in some sort of matched costumes, too. I hide a smile. It should be very interesting to see how the Sith Lord reacts to my oldest and dearest friends.

My next worry is transport. Now there is a problem. My car is not reliable at the moment and I can’t risk a breakdown, not when Vader will be with me. There is Marcus’ Porsche which is stored in the shed next to the workshop. I pull open the top drawer of my desk. The keys are right where I left them, and Marcus did say I should drive it a bit while he is away. Somehow I don’t think he intended me to take it outside of the observatory’s boundaries, though. Well, he is in Germany and I am here, so I’ll tell him when he gets back that I borrowed his car for a longer trip.

I take a look at the time. About two hours are left before we should go and I need to gather up my dress and small make-up bag from my apartment, too. The Dark Lord is still occupied with his drafting, but there is no need for him to go with me on this errand. He can stay and work until I am ready to go.

‘My Lord,’ I say to get his attention again.

The pen is set down while he waits for me to continue.

‘I will need some time to gather up what I will be taking with me. You can stay here and work while I do that. When I am ready, I will come in and get you,’ I tell him.

‘As you wish, my Lady,’ he replies, ‘I will come look for you if I finish before you return.’

His attention is back on whatever he is drafting, so I pocket the Porsche keys and head to my apartment. It should only take a few minutes to get what I need. What I really want is some time alone to think about what happened on our hike.

The make-up bag with my contacts is right where I left it in the bathroom, and a rummage in my closet produces a cover for my dress. It takes a few minutes to find the black, flat leather shoes and the fitted black belt that I want, so I toss those in with my silk gown. My old foil rolls out onto the floor as I dig about on the closet floor for my jewelry box. Good thing the Sith Lord hasn’t seen that, I decide, as I grab the beat-up old blade and stuff it out of sight again. There is no way I would ever want to go up against him, not even for practice. I finally find the box in question, pull out the necklace and earrings that I want, and put them in with my make-up. Everything I plan on taking, I set out on the end of the couch. Time for a short think and rest now, before I go and collect my date for tonight.

I pull off what I wore for the hike and wrap my robe around me. This afternoon we will be in the lab and I will put a set of work clothes on just before I leave my apartment. Curling up on the bed, I start to think about the day’s events thus far. Why is the Sith Lord acting the way he is? Possessive, he is being very possessive of me, and the way he has been flirting with me - he has been very forward with me today. If I didn’t know better, I would suspect that he is genuinely interested in me and not just playing a game. Well, this is a puzzle to work away at later and I have about an hour left for a nap. I set the alarm and let myself drift.

A few minutes later, I wake with a start, and open my eyes to see two bright blue ones an inch or two from my own. He’s back again; my dream lover is back. We stare at one another for a minute, then he moves nearer and his lips touch my own. I reach up and pull him in closer, then give a tug and haul him over and onto the bed.

‘Playful are you?’ he asks me.

I smile and tackle him, pinning him beneath me on the bed. My turn, I think, as I kiss him myself. He parts his lips to mine and I hesitate, not sure what to do next. When he lightly brushes my lips with his tongue, I decide to follow his lead and open my mouth to him. Sure enough, he proceeds to kiss me in a way I have never experienced before now. This is just a bit too much for me, and I try to get away, but he stops me by holding my face to his. When I am finally released, I pull away from him, and make a move to escape off the bed. I definitely do not like being kissed like that. He grabs me next and holds me down.

‘Stop that,’ he commands, ‘You are mine, Maia, and I want to kiss you.’

He tries to kiss me again and I twist my head aside, refusing to let him.

‘Stubborn, now, are you?’ he teases. ‘Perhaps I should kiss you somewhere else then.’

‘Not a chance,’ I tell him, annoyed and a bit shocked at what he was implying.

‘No more deep kisses, then,’ he concedes.

I eye him suspiciously. Alright, if he behaves, I will let him kiss me. He sees my change in heart and his lips touch mine again, but he makes no attempt to push my mouth open. His kiss is gentle, sweet, like it was last night, so I wrap my arms around his back and pull him in close to me. When he finally breaks away, he moves and lays down by my side, rests his head on my shoulder and sighs.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him.

‘I want you, my wife, but cannot have you,’ he admits.

‘Wife?’ I question, curious. Why is my dream lover calling me his wife?

‘You are my wife, Maia,’ he tells me, shifting to rest on an elbow, then looking into my face, and gently taking my left hand in his, ‘my wife by ancient Sith ritual. You swore the proper oath to me, I accepted it, and we have consummated the marriage as both law and tradition demand we do.’

‘Your wife?’ I ask, again, bewildered now.

‘Yes,’ he confirms, ‘my wife.’

I stay silent, watching him, and trying to process what he has just told me. His wife? He seems to be completely serious about this.

‘I can’t be,’ I tell him.

This is some bizarre dream, I decide.

‘Yes, you are,’ he says, ‘and there is no point in arguing with me, Maia. You are my wife, by oath and by body. All that remains is to take you back to the Empire with me and have you recognized as my consort.’

‘You can’t do that,’ I argue back. ‘That’s not possible.’

Why am I arguing with someone who exists only in my dreams?

‘So sure are you?’ he teases.

This dream is getting stranger and stranger as it goes along.

‘This is just a weird dream I am having,’ I state, denying everything he has told me. ‘You aren’t real, and I am definitely not your wife.’

That produces a peal of laughter from him and a quick kiss to my forehead.

‘Believe what you like, my stubborn little wife, you will know the truth all too soon,’ he tells me. ‘Now it is time for me to go and for you to sleep for a few minutes.’

He sits up on the bed beside me and looks straight into my eyes.

‘Look in my eyes, Maia,’ he orders.

I can’t pull my gaze away from him, much as I try to.

‘I am just a dream, Maia, only a dream,’ he suggests, using that odd tone of voice. ‘Now, sleep, my love, sleep until I call you.’

Sleep sounds like a good idea, so I close my eyes and let myself dream a bit.

‘Maia, wake up,’ the Sith Lord tells me. ‘We need to leave soon, and you can’t sleep all afternoon.’

I open my eyes and see him sitting beside me on the bed. Oh. How long has he been there? A glance at the clock reveals that the alarm is due to go off in another few minutes. Well, he has good timing at least and I would rather a wake up call from him than the annoying beeping of the alarm clock any day. I reach over and disable the alarm. As I do, I realize that my robe has slipped a bit and that Vader has had the opportunity to look at my chest, if he were so inclined to. Embarrassed, I pull the robe closed and sit up. He makes no comment, nor gives any sign that he had even noticed my slight state of undress. Not that he would anyway, I think to myself. Wearing a mask does have advantages.

Once it is obvious I am not going to fall asleep again the Sith Lord gets off of the bed and goes into the living room, I assume, to wait while I get dressed. What to wear? I settle on a warm pair of light blue pants, a white shirt and my warm sweater with the blue and green geometric patterns. There is a lab coat in at the university, so I leave the spare one here and step into the living room myself.

Vader is in his chair, feet propped up, relaxing. I need to eat so my next stop is the kitchen. Ten minutes later, I have a mug of tea, sandwiches and a few munchies in front of me on the coffee table. My mind is busy while I eat and I cast a few sneaky glances over at my date for the party. Why did I have another dream with him in it? It’s not like I haven’t dreamt of the Sith Lord before, but nothing as vivid, as real as last night or today. Bizarre, I decide. Maybe having him close is affecting my mind.

***

Maia’s trying to be inconspicuous with her looks, but it isn’t working.

‘What’s wrong, Maia?’ I ask.

She ignores my question and concentrates on the drink in her hands. Before she can take another sip, I reach over and take the cup from her with one hand while turning her face towards me with the other.

‘Something is obviously bothering you,’ I note, ‘and I am sure that it has to do with me.’

Maia just stares at me, refusing to answer. Perhaps I should not have used illusion to visit her a second time. It has obviously unsettled her.

‘Well, what is it?’ I prod.

‘You’re leaving tonight,’ she states, hoping to deflect my inquiry.

‘And?’ I prompt.

‘I wish you would stay here with me instead,’ she blurts out.

I release her and sit back in my chair, surprised by what she has said. She wants me to stay here? With her?

This is the second time she has made this offer.

I see her expression change, her eyes shut, the tears threatening. Then one slides down her face and she is off, fleeing from my presence into the kitchen. A door opens, shuts, and I know she has gone into the room with the educational displays to hide.

I let her go, giving her the time alone she needs to deal with her conflicted emotions. She’s been fighting with herself for the last two days, refusing to admit what is so obvious to me. Despite her juvenile behavior, I know her love for me runs very deep and the prospect of losing me is hard for her to deal with. But I can’t tell her the truth just yet. Not when she might refuse to leave with me.

After a few minutes, I get up and see to my needs in the ‘fresher. Her mirror reflects my mask back at me, so I stop and stare a few minutes.

My mask. My prison.

If only I could stay with her here, leave the Empire, leave the darkness, leave behind everything about my life I despise.

But there is no choice for me in this. There is no place for me here. Kenobi saw to that. My life support systems are more advanced than any of their technology.

I can’t stay here.

And neither can she.

She is my wife. She will bear my son. She belongs with me, at my side.

If I am going to keep her, I will have to take her with me: if she is going to keep me, she will have to come with me.

There is no other choice.

Not for me, not for her.

Not for us.

***

Stumbling blindly down the stairs, I decide I don’t care that I am acting half my age and have just made a complete spectacle of myself by running away. I love him and it hurts to know that I will lose him forever tonight. Alone, beside the galactic maps, I let some of my control go and the tears rapidly fall. I am still there when the Sith Lord eventually comes to find me. He says not a word as he wraps me in his arms, just silently holds me until I am able to speak again.

‘It’s not fair,’ I tell him, ‘You can’t stay here, and I can’t go with you.’

‘Your offer, I must be honest, is tempting,’ he admits, ‘but I can’t stay, Maia, even if I wanted to. The medical technology here, from what little I have seen, is probably too primitive to deal with my life support systems.’

‘And I can’t go,’ I concede, ‘you can’t get two in your fighter. There’s not enough room or air.’

He is silent at my statement, and I guess I just told him something totally obvious. Well, he is holding me now so I will take advantage of that. I quietly snuggle in as tight as I can and rest my cheek against the soft material of his robes. His even breathing soothes my nerves a bit.

We need to go, I finally decide after five or ten minutes. I feel calmer after being in his arms, and better now that my foolish, childish crying spell is done with. There will be not be another one today, not until after he has left and I am alone. Love can be undeniably cruel. I shift a bit in his arms to look up at his mask.

‘My Lord, I am ready to go now,’ I quietly tell him, reverting to the formal address again.

***

‘Then, my Lady, we shall go,’ I agree.

I could leave now, there is no reason to go to this party of hers, but I am curious about her world outside of the observatory and this is one way I can see some of it.

And I want her last memories of her home to be pleasant ones.

I guide her back up the stairs to her quarters. She is a touch unsteady, still held by the weeping spell she just let out. Maia is grieving, though she does not realize it, for the homeworld her subconscious mind knows she will lose. The home I told her I would take her from.

It takes but a moment for her to wash her face, and regain her composure.

She gathers up her dress and make-up bag, throws on a jacket and grabs a bag with all the odds and ends women tend to pack around with them. I take the dress from her and hold it aloft, keeping it clear of the ground as I follow her to our transportation.

Maia stops outside the workshop, in front of a door she has never opened in my presence. I watch her unlock the door, slide it up, revealing some sort of vehicle hidden by a cloth cover.

Do they have ‘speeders here? If they do, then their technology is more advanced than I thought and what she described.

But no, when she pulls the cover off, it reveals a wheeled ‘car’ as she called it. While she stows her bags and the dress, I walk around it, studying the lines and engineering. I wonder how it is powered and controlled, what the engine is like. My fingers itch at the prospect of taking it apart, discovering any secrets which might be hidden there.

‘Porsche 911,’ Maia tells me, when she sees me run a finger along the back, where the engine is, ‘Sportscar. Powered by fossil fuels in an internal combustion engine. Very fast, but I have no intentions of getting caught speeding. It belongs to a colleague who told me I could drive it a bit while he’s out of the country. Hop in and let’s get going.’

Fossil fuels. Internal combustion. How primitive. And ‘fast’ is a relative measure. I doubt this car of hers can go anywhere near the speeds the simplest and slowest air speeders can.

I stand by the door she has opened for me and watch her struggles with the safety harness. This is not going to be easy. Somehow I manage to get in, but my attempts to match her feat and strap myself in are unsuccessful. There is just not enough room to move the way I need to.

Finally Maia decides to do something about it. She releases herself, gets out and comes around to help me. Waving my hands out of the way, she pulls the shoulder harness down first, holds the center plate at my waist and starts snapping the belts in. There is only one thing left to do now.

‘My apologies, my Lord, for being a touch familiar,’ she tells me, as she folds my cloak and robes out of the way and snaps the last belt, the one anchored between my legs into place. ‘Don’t hit the quick release on the harness,’ she warns, ‘because it will be a nuisance to buckle you in again.’

After my efforts to see to it myself, I have to agree with her.

With that, she closes the door, returns to her seat, straps in again and starts the car.

I watch what she does closely, determined to figure out how she is controlling our speed and direction. Maia must have noticed my curiosity because she stops and looks over at me.

‘Would you like a quick driving lesson, my Lord?’ she asks.

‘Of course,’ I confess.

From what I have already seen her do, it looks fairly easy.

‘These two dials, you need to watch,’ she instructs, pointing to two round indicators marked with lines and what must be numbers. ‘This one is for speed, the other one, engine revolutions. You need to shift gears when that one gets close to the red section.’

‘Gearing is a concept I understand,’ I admit.

Maia looks a bit surprised at that, but only nods in answer.

‘You control that with a foot pedal,’ she points to the outermost one on the floor which she has shoved all the way down at the moment, ‘and the gearshift in the center here. There are five forward gears and one for reverse. It’s in first, the lowest forward gear, at the moment.’

She shifts through the different positions, naming them as she goes and showing me how to use the ‘clutch’.

‘Brakes and speed control?’ I ask.

‘This pedal here is for braking,’ she answers, pointing to the one in the center, the one her right foot is on, ‘the other is used to control speed by regulating the amount of fuel to the engine.’

‘And the wheel is for directing it,’ I note, having observed how the car responded to her moving this.

Another nod in answer.

‘May I try driving it?’ I ask.

She’s not sure if that is a good idea or not, judging from the fleeting expressions on her face.

‘I suppose,’ Maia finally decides. ‘You can drive it around the parking lot. We can’t get into too much trouble there.’

It takes a few minutes to swap positions.

I set one hand on the wheel, check that I am sure I am familiar with where everything is, and drop it into gear. It steers easily, responds to the slightest of turns. This is simple enough, so I increase the speed, being sure to shift up a gear when the indicator moves into the red. When I am certain I know what the car can do, I stop and look over at Maia.

‘You’re a quick study,’ she notes, then offers. ‘You could drive it out to the security gates, if you like, since the private road between here and there isn’t patrolled.’

This is an opportunity I won’t pass up. I steer the car onto the paved road and when Maia makes no objections, increase its speed.

‘How fast can it go?’ I ask, curious.

‘I don’t know,’ she admits. ‘Marcus likes to test it on a racetrack. Any time I have driven it, I have been on public roads where the speed is strictly regulated, and in some places, monitored.’

I think for a few seconds. Why don’t I find out what I can do with it? From what I can see, there’s a fair distance between here and the security gate.

‘Let’s see how fast it can go,’ I decide.

Maia looks over at me and I can just imagine what she’s thinking. As I shove the fuel control to the floor, she grabs onto the door handle and hangs on tight as the acceleration pushes us back into the seats. When the engine starts to scream, I shift the gear up a notch. Not bad for a combustion engine, I note. It’s unfortunate I don’t have the time to take it apart and study it.

The section of road closest to the observatory is flat and straight, so for the next few minutes, I go as fast as I can safely get away with. I slow before reaching the sharp corner halfway to the gates, but still end up in a sideways skid. Somehow I stay on the pavement and keep going. The last bit of road is slightly winding so I whip the wheel back and forth around the curves, without slowing or touching the brakes at all.

This is great fun. The most fun I have had in a long, long time.

Once the gates are in sight, I slow down to a more reasonable speed and look over at Maia for her comment. She is paler than I have ever seen her and appears to be a bit ill.

‘You are a lunatic,’ she states.

‘You enjoyed that, so why don’t you just admit it,’ I tease her.

She gives me an annoyed look at that observation.

‘It’s a good thing I have to be the one driving it the rest of the way,’ she tells me. ‘The way you drive, we would probably be stopped by the police, and I don’t think your Imperial pilot’s licence would impress them very much.’

I chuckle a little as we stop at the security gates. She is probably ready to kill me for making her a bit motion sick. That was fun, though, even if I did miss a gear and stress the engine a few times. At least I now know exactly what this car can do.

I will be sure to acquire a similar vehicle for my collection the next time I am at Imperial Center.

***

After we swap places a second time, I dig out my passcard and shove it into the reader. The gates open obligingly, and once through, I take a moment to put an override on the system using the security station on the other side. No one else can get in now unless I let them.

Now, which route to take into the city? The longer one is a bit more scenic, but it goes through a few more built-up areas and towns than I would like. I turn right and head down the road. This way will be shorter and faster. We drive along the dry valley and through a draw. There is a golf course not too far ahead. I slow a little bit as we pass it, but no one is on the greens nearest to the road. Darn. It would have been amusing to describe that game to the Sith Lord. Maybe they play something similar in the Empire somewhere.

The road twists as we continue along, dropping considerably in elevation as we go. Next stop is at the intersection with the major north-south highway. Not much traffic today, so I quickly whip across and into the lane I want. Northwards now, through several small communities. For a holiday, I decide, it’s quite quiet. Finally we come out where the road overlooks part of the long valley and lakes in the valley floor. I pull off for a moment. May as well let him know where we are headed.

‘The city is to the north, about two hours drive from here. We need to go through the large community ahead,’ I tell him, pointing towards the flat flood plain between the two lakes, ‘then along the side of the lake. There is a bridge across the lake that we will have to take. Hopefully traffic won’t be too heavy today. The university campus is on the northern end of the city. If the highway is slow, I know a few shortcuts and back roads we can use instead.’

The Sith Lord makes no comment, so I pull back onto the road and drive in silence. As we get closer to the first large town, traffic picks up, but I manage to prevent anyone from getting too close and being able to look in at my passenger. Opting for the by-pass, I drive along the river channel, and note that some poor fool has been nailed for speeding.

‘Police force,’ I say, pointing to the cruiser with its flashing lights. ‘They always catch people along here breaking the speed limit.’

A few minutes later, we are clear of the first major town and are driving along the large lake. Time to have a bit of fun with the Sith Lord.

‘There is an ancient creature living in the bottom of the lake,’ I state, keeping a straight face, and even voice. ‘Every so often it pulls a boat under and makes a snack of some careless tourists.’

That prompts him to turn and look first at me, then out at the lake. This ought to be good.

‘Really?’ he asks. ‘Why hasn’t someone tried to deal with it?’

‘It’s too clever and fast. No one has even managed to get a good look at it. There’s a large reward simply for a clear picture of it,’ I continue on, somehow keeping myself from bursting out in laughter.

Vader turns and studies me intently.

‘You are incorrigible,’ he growls, and with that I do lose it and start giggling.

‘Got you, didn’t I,’ I confirm, happily snickering away.

‘Stop that,’ he warns, ‘It was not that amusing.’

Guess he doesn’t like having practical jokes played on him. It was worth being scolded though.

‘Fine,’ I concede, ‘No more jokes then, since you obviously don’t like to have them played on you.’

‘A wise decision, Maia,’ Vader tells me. ‘As my wife I will discipline you if you ever do something like that again.’

He really is annoyed at me. I wonder when he last had a good laugh at himself. Talk about humorless and cranky.

‘There really is supposed to be a monster,’ I confess, ‘and tourists do come from everywhere to try and get a picture of it. I think what people see are just the huge hundred year old fish that live in the colder parts of the lake and their imaginations do the rest.’

He gives a snort at that.

‘Sometimes, if the winter is extremely cold, the lake freezes enough that people can drive across it, but that hasn’t happened in many years now,’ I chatter away.

Another look from the Dark Lord.

‘I’m telling you the truth this time,’ I admit.

There is no comment from him, so I decide that staying quiet is probably a wise thing to do and concentrate on my driving.

Traffic starts to back up as we approach the bridge across the lake. Soon it will be impossible to avoid having other vehicles close to us. I glance over at the Sith Lord. Time to warn him.

‘My Lord, other cars will be within range where they can see you from now on. Just ignore anything that their occupants do,’ I instruct. ‘If you don’t pay any attention to them, they will give up eventually and go on their way.’

Sure enough, a few minutes later, a beat up station wagon full of kids is alongside us. Vader glances over at them, then looks straight ahead. The kids, though, are having a great time waving at him and trying to get him to respond in kind. I give my head a shake and try not to smile too much. If those children ever found out who they were really waving at, their reactions, I’m sure, would be priceless. There a few other encounters like that one before we are close to the bridge, but the Dark Lord takes it all calmly, never reacting at all to the various attempts to get a response from him.

Fortunately traffic control has two open lanes in our direction, so I take the outermost one to avoid another incident like the first one. I slow as we come off the bridge, timing my arrival at the intersection precisely. If I get things just right, I won’t have to stop at any signals all the way through the city. Luck is with me today, and we sail through the first light when I need to.

I take another glance over at the Sith Lord. He is busy looking around at the buildings, people, and other vehicles. Is Earth close to anything he has encountered before? Or is this just another ‘primitive’ planet to him? Surprisingly he has asked me very few questions about what he has seen along our journey.

It takes twenty minutes to reach the campus from the bridge, and the sight of the brick buildings brings a sense of relief to me. Driving back at night will be less stressful. The traffic will be much lighter and it will be harder for people to see into the car. I turn up the street leading to the Science building, whip into the parking lot, and pull into my reserved space. No looking for a place to park for me. A dig through my bag produces my parking permit, so I put it on the dash and hit the release on the safety harness.

‘We’re here, my Lord,’ I announce, ‘time to go to my office and see what emergencies there are. Then we will deal with the gas mix for your TIE.’

He raps the release on his own harness and waits for me to open the passenger side door. It was easier for him to get in, than out, I observe. Good thing I parked so there will be plenty of room for him to maneuver when we leave tonight. Once he is out of the car, I reach in and grab the dress and my bags, then lock the Porsche and head towards the nearest door. The Sith Lord quickly steps to my side, takes the dress again and slips his arm around me. Still possessive, I note, curious that.

I lead us up the stairs, through the door and down the hallway to the main staircase. The Dean’s office and mailroom are on the second floor and I need to see what is in my mailbox. At the top of the stairs, we run into a group of four students, who stop dead in their tracks and stare at Vader and I. Rats. I had really hoped we could avoid anyone until the party.

‘Professor?’ the one student I know ventures.

‘Yes, Curtis,’ I politely reply. I need to get him and his friends to keep my date’s identity quiet.

‘Who’s that with you?’ he asks.

‘My date for tonight’s costume ball,’ I admit.

‘I guessed that much,’ Curtis says with a laugh, ‘But who is he, really?’

‘You know better than to ask that,’ I scold him.

‘Oh, come on, Professor. Nigel’s been going on about your new boyfriend all day,’ he stubbornly persists in trying to get an answer from me.

‘You know the rules, Curtis,’ I state firmly, ‘so don’t ask again.’ I consider carefully for a moment, then add, making sure I address the other students as well, ‘If you lot don’t tell anyone I’m here or who I am with, I will tell you a story tomorrow. Now scram, I have work to do in my lab.’

The students hurry down the stairs and are soon out of sight.

‘Do you think it was wise,’ the Sith Lord asks me, ‘to lead them on like that?’

‘I told them the truth,’ I admit, ‘they just assumed which story I will tell them.’

Vader chuckles a bit at that, and I head into the mailroom with him close on my heels. My mailbox is overflowing, as usual, and a note indicates there is a parcel on the shelf for me. I grab an empty paperbox, throw the mail in it and search for my parcel. It’s from Jamie, I happily notice.

I head down the hall to my office next, open the door quickly and usher the Sith Lord in. My university office I keep a bit tidier than the one at the observatory. If I don’t, the cleaning staff move the piles of paper on the floor around and then I can’t find things for days after. Taking the dress from him, I pull it out of the cover and hang it on the hook behind my door. The belt and shoes I set on my desk and my two bags quickly join them.

Mail next. I wave Vader into one of the chairs and settle myself in the other. As I work through the stack, I realize that most of it can be dealt with another day, so I toss it all back in the box and shove it under my desk.

‘That’s an unusual filing system,’ the Sith Lord observes.

‘Efficient,’ I admit, ‘when there is nothing pressing to deal with.’

I pick up the parcel from my brother and give it a shake. No clues there to its contents. There is a pair of scissors in my desk, so I dig them out and start to carefully cut through the tape. Jamie has overwrapped it, as usual, and it takes quite a while to get it open. Once I pull the flaps up, I take out the letter on top and the gaudily wrapped gift which I set on my lap.

‘Birthday present,’ I tell Vader, ‘from my brother. Let’s see what he wrote first.’

‘Dear Sis,’ I read aloud, ‘You have always said that you wanted one of these gadgets, so I got a few good pictures of one and talked the machine shop guys at the base into making it for you. Have fun with it and stay out of trouble. Jamie.’

I give my head a shake. No real clues in that to tell me what’s in the package. Puzzled now, I start pulling the wrapping paper open. Another box is inside. I cut the tape holding it closed and discover it is full of packing material. Time to root around a bit. There’s a metal cylinder inside. My bratty brother didn’t do what I think he did. I wrap my hand around whatever it is and yank it free of the Styrofoam bits. Not bad, I think, as I examine my gift. Pretty good actually for it not being an official copy.

The Sith Lord has watched me as I opened the gift, and his surprise is apparent when I pull out the lightsaber.

‘Where did your brother get that?’ he asks, obviously startled to see what I have in my hands.

‘Jamie had it made for me,’ I say, handing it over to Vader.

I can’t help smiling as he turns it about in his hands. A push on the switch produces nothing, so the Dark Lord presses down harder, then looks over at me.

‘It’s a toy, a replica, not real,’ I admit. ‘It will go well with my costume, I suppose.’

‘Why would he give you something which doesn’t work?’ he asks me next.

‘We don’t have the gems or compact powercells needed to make a lightsaber work,’ I divulge.

‘And...?’ he questions further.

Obviously he is curious why I might want it in the first place. No way am I going to admit that it’s because of him. I give a slight shrug.

‘Maia...,’ the Sith Lord warns, and I know I had better answer him this time.

‘Well, you have one, so why shouldn’t I?’ I blurt out before I lose my nerve.

That produces a chuckle as he returns my lightsaber to me.

‘Mine, my Lady, works,’ the Sith Lord states.

That’s just too good an opening so I take advantage of it.

‘Does it really?’ I tease.

‘Of course, you saw me practicing forms...’ he starts then stops abruptly.

I let out a snicker. Got him again.

‘Behave, wife,’ he growls at me.

Obviously that sort of innuendo is also off limits. Rats.

Well, I guess we should head up to the lab and deal with one of the last of the chores required to get his TIE functional again. I push myself up and out of my chair, and set my new lightsaber on the desk beside my shoes. A second or two later I am grabbed from behind. What is he doing? He hauls me around, backs me into the corner of the room by the door and pins me up against the wall with his body.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask him.

‘There is someone in the office across the way,’ he reveals, ‘ and I thought you wanted to stay out of sight.’

‘No need,’ I tell him, ‘the windows are only one-way. They can’t see in here.’

How did he know that someone was over there? I look up at his helmet’s lenses. He must be able to compensate for the polarized glass somehow. Now there’s a cool trick.

What to do now? The Sith Lord is flat against me, so I decide to be a bit bratty. I wrap my arms around him and wait for what he does next.

‘My wife,’ he warns, ‘you had better start behaving yourself.’

‘Why?’ I stubbornly question. ‘No one can see us. We can do whatever we like in here.’

He tips my face up with his hand, and rests his fingers across my lips.

‘Whatever I like?’ Vader teases. ‘Are you sure, my Lady, that you want to let that offer stand?’

He’s flirting again. I suppress a sigh. Keeping up with his rapid mood changes can be quite a challenge sometimes.

‘And what would my Lord like to do?’ I flirt back, kissing the gloved fingers he has resting over my mouth.

‘Anything and everything,’ he admits, ‘but this is neither the time nor the place for that.’

Oh. Well, rats. He’s apparently not going to take this flirtation any further. Time to go to the lab then. I try to get away, but the Sith Lord refuses to let go, holding me tight against himself instead. Alright, if he insists then. My arms pull him closer and I rest my head on his chest with a contented sigh.

‘Happy are you, my little wife?’ he teases. ‘You obviously prefer being in my arms to anywhere else.’

He is absolutely determined to role play my husband, even when we are alone. Why? There is no need to. Perhaps he is just amusing himself with me. Time to enjoy it then since he seems willing to oblige me. I snuggle in and relax a bit. A hand brushes down my cheek next.

‘My beautiful, fearless Lady. If only you had been born in the Empire, how much easier things would be for us. But I might never have found you then,’ he muses aloud. ‘The Force and fate act in mysterious ways sometimes.’

I stay quiet and listen carefully to what he is saying. This is no mere flirtation any longer. He is far more than simply interested in me, I realize, since he is at the point where he is thinking of the two of us as ‘us’. Time to think quickly here. If this is true, then he has not once played a game with me as I had earlier thought. All of his actions and words have genuinely reflected his feelings for me. Wow. Now there is something I would never have expected. Darth Vader in love with me of all the women he could possibly choose from.

‘No point in debating what if’s,’ he decides, ‘there is only ‘what is’ to deal with.’

Vader looks down at me and I smile up at him. Now that I am fairly sure I know what he feels for me, I need to decide what to do about it, and what to do about what I feel as well. This could be difficult and painful for both of us. Maybe I should just stay silent and leave things as they are instead. Why does life have to be so complicated?

What is, he had said. I will have only a few hours more with him. Time to make the best of it. He lets me out of his embrace, so I grab the notebook from my bag and steer him out my office door. From there, I guide the Sith Lord up a flight of stairs to the third floor and then down the hall, heading towards my lab. Luckily we avoid any more students along the way. Once at the door, I swipe my passcard through the reader, wave him into the room, and flip on the ‘Lab in Use’ light which is in the hallway so that no one will enter without warning me first. When I work, I don’t like to be disturbed, a fact which everyone in the building knows. We should be able to finish what needs to be done without anyone bothering us.

My lab is kept meticulously clean; there is no clutter anywhere. This is necessary as many of the samples I work with are priceless and contamination can be a problem. Students and fellow researchers have learned very quickly that the clean lab rule is one I do not bend much, if at all. Glancing about to check the state of things reveals that everything is in its place and that nothing has been left carelessly out in the way. My lab coat is hanging by the door so I slip it on and focus my mind on the task ahead.

‘You should have a seat, my Lord,’ I tell him, ‘it will take forty minutes to bring the ICP and mass spectrometer on-line.’

With that, I start turning on computers and equipment. The Sith Lord watches for a few minutes, then settles himself into one of the office chairs to silently observe me as I work. I am not used to having an audience for this, so I decide to let him know what I am doing to cover my nervousness.

‘Some of the equipment is completely controlled by the computers, but there are still a few things I have to turn on manually, first,’ I say as I duck behind the mass-spec’ to turn on the vacuum pumps. The flow controller and aridus gas mixer are next.

I drop into one of the chairs and start the programs needed to bring everything else on-line. Reaching over to the ICP, I slide the cover in place and send the commands via computer to ignite the plasma. It flares to life without any problems. Now I will just have to let the system settle down and stabilize while I deal with hooking up the various compressed gases to the mixer.

A quick look about reveals that the gases I had requisitioned from storage and the neon gas have been delivered. Good, I think, only the deuterium from Nigel’s lab to worry about. There is no need to move any of the bottles from where they have been set, so I start attaching tubing to them and hooking it up. The notebook I had brought from the observatory gives the volumes and flow rates I had calculated the other day, so I program these into the flow controller. So far, so good. Now I just need to raid Nigel’s lab for the missing gas, calibrate the mass-spec’, make sure the mix is correct, and fill the empty gas cylinder for the TIE.

Nigel’s lab first, I decide.

‘I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ I call to Vader, before heading to the lab next door.

My master passcard is programmed to open most of the labs in this building, and in the past it has worked on the door in question. Today, however, the door refuses to open. Irritated, I try it several times without any luck. Blast. Now what am I going to do? I don’t know how to bypass the security system, and if I try, I might just draw more attention than is wise. Well, there is one sure-fire way to get in.

Re-entering my own lab, I walk to one of the windows and swing it open. Looking next door, I can see that Nigel’s student has once again left one of the NMR lab’s windows wide open.

‘Problems?’ the Sith Lord asks as he joins me.

‘Yes,’ I confirm, ‘security codes have been changed. I am going to have to do this the hard way.’

Ever since I fell from that outcrop while working on the Labrador coast I have had a problem with heights. Five broken ribs and hypothermia tend to do that to you. There is no way I would normally even consider what am I going to have to do: climb out on a ledge three floors up and inch my way along to the other window fifteen feet away. I have absolutely no choice in this though. The Sith Lord can’t do it because he is far too large to get through the windows.

I drag a chair over to the window, but before I can climb up, Vader stops me with a hand on my arm, questioning, ‘What do you think you are doing?’

‘Getting the deuterium out of the lab next door,’ I tell him, then explain, ‘The window is open over there so I can climb in, get the gas, and exit into the hallway. You can’t do it, so I will have to go.’

The Dark Lord looks at me for a long minute, then warns, ‘Be careful, my Lady. I can’t use the Force to catch you if you fall.’

He helps me up onto the chair and out the window. Once I am out on the ledge, I am careful to not look down. The ridge above the windows is just wide and deep enough to wedge my fingers in, so I move my hands along, inches at a time, hanging on as tight as I can. My feet I shift only when both of my hands are secure. The trip to the open window seems to take forever, but I am eventually there. There is no chair to step down on at the end of my journey, so I am forced to jump to the floor.

Nigel’s lab is a bit messier than mine, but it only takes a moment to identify the tanks of the gas that I need. One is not hooked up to anything and the gauge shows that it is full, so I roll it over to the door and out into the hallway, making sure no one is around to see what I am up to, first. A minute or so more and I am back in my own lab, hooking the purloined deuterium up to the flow controller.

First task done, I sit down and let myself react to the trip along the ledge. I watch my hands shake a bit and stop them by holding them together in my lap. Get a grip, Maia, I tell myself, you have too many other things to do tonight to indulge in a hysterical fit.

‘You are afraid of heights, aren’t you?’ the Sith Lord observes.

I just look at him and nod my head ‘yes’ while I try to get my nerves under control. That was one trip I don’t plan on ever repeating. Vader comes nearer to me, watching me closely.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks.

‘No point,’ I manage to get out, noting that my voice is shaking a little, ‘you couldn’t do it and I could.’

Get yourself under control, I remind myself. A few deep breaths and I am more settled again.

Once he sees that I am in control of myself, the Sith Lord pulls his chair next to mine and returns to it, resuming his silent watch over me. At least he doesn’t chatter away, ask a million questions, or annoy me by hanging over my shoulder like the grad students always do at first.

I turn my attention to the computer beside me. Time to calibrate the mass-spec’, a finicky task at the best of times. Using the settings from when it was last run as a baseline, I spend ten minutes or so tinkering with how the cones and skimmers are oriented until I am satisfied that I can’t better optimize them. A click of the mouse and the mixed gases are flowing through the system. Another click and their precise concentrations are being measured, the screen filling with a graph of their millisecond-by-millisecond measurements. A couple of them need adjusting, I note, so I feed the corrected volumes into the flow controller and wait for the changes to work their way through the system. For the next half hour or so, I continue the process of fine tuning.

When I finally have the gas combination precisely where the Sith Lord had told me it needed to be, I stop the analysis, but still let the mix run through the system to keep its composition stable. I do not want to flood the lab with explosive hydrogen gas which would be the only alternative to this. An empty gas cylinder has been connected to the aridus’ pressurized outflow, so I now shunt the mixed gases over into it and wait.

‘Almost finished,’ I tell the Dark Lord. ‘The gas mix just has to fill the tank and we are done here.’

He nods in response, and when the gauge on the tank indicates that it is full, I quickly turn the valve, and flow controller off. Another minute or two and the rest of the equipment is either off or in the process of shutting down. Time to get out of here.

Vader easily picks up the tank of mixed gases and I lead him quickly through the building and out to the parking lot. Once the gas cylinder is safely stowed in the car, we return to my office. I must change and finish my hair and make-up quickly since the party has already started. Fashionably late, I decide is what we will be.

The Sith Lord follows me into my office, and stands in the middle of the room, waiting. What is he doing? I need to get changed and do not want him watching my every move. For a moment I consider chasing him into the hallway, but leaving him on his own is a very bad idea. Another tactic then, since his help will be needed soon anyway.

***

‘Turn around, please,’ Maia asks. ‘I would rather not have an audience for this.’

‘As you wish, my Lady,’ I reply, amused, as I comply with her request.

She does not want me to see her body, but I know what she looks like, every bit of her. Let her be shy if she wishes. It will not last.

I hear her moving quickly, see her folded clothes being set aside, and listen to the rustle of mothsilk as her gown is taken from where she had hung it on the door. She fights with the fabric, trying to get it into position. For a few seconds, I consider offering to help, but decide it would be best not to.

Finally, she requests my aid. ‘My Lord, would you assist me with this now?’

I turn and see that the sleeves still need to be buttoned tight against her arms. Somehow she has pulled on the lacings in back, managing to get the bodice somewhat in place and herself adjusted so that the bustline is correct. She could have waited, but her modesty stopped her from asking for my help before she did this.

I step behind her and catch the laces when she lets go of them. It is easy to pull them tight, so I work my way up her back, making sure there is no slack left in the cords as I go. Since I do not want to damage her dress, I use a simple knot which will not slip to hold the ties together. Before I can move in front of her again, she makes a few quick adjustments. I glance at her chest as I start hooking the loops over the buttons on the sleeves . The tension in the gown’s fabric has given her a bustline and cleavage. My wife is proving to be more physically attractive than I expected. Maia will look good in a properly selected wardrobe, one where she can’t hide under bulky and ill-fitting clothes.

Five minutes later, the sleeves are buttoned tight, and she has stored her keys and other necessities in the small pockets on her belt.

I suspect her final chores will be accomplished elsewhere.

‘You will have to stay here, my Lord,’ she warns. ‘I will be back as fast as I can. Don’t answer the door in case it’s Nigel looking to stir up trouble.’

Then she steps into her shoes and grabs the small bag she had brought with her. Maia is going to perform those esoteric rituals all women indulge themselves in when they are getting ready for an evening out. It will be interesting to see what the results of hers are. She closes the door after herself and I pick up her belt. There is something I can do while I am waiting for her to come back.

***

I go to the nearest bathroom, which is around the corner, about fifteen feet away from my office. First chore is to get my contact lenses in, something I am rather clumsy at, and it takes a few tries to get the left one in. Then, my make-up. I remember Vader’s comment about his wife not looking like a courtesan, so I keep it very light, not that I would slather it on anyway. A bit around my eyes to emphasize them, a touch of gloss and that’s it. My great-grandmother’s topaz necklace goes around my neck; the matching earrings in my ears. The last task is my hair. Off comes the scarf, and I proceed to undo my morning’s work, dropping the twists and curlers in the bag as I go. I spend a few minutes arranging the results.

I want to look like Padme for him tonight.

A quick glance in the mirror before I go, and I decide I have done my best. It’s too bad I’ll never see the Sith Lord’s expression, though, since it’s bound to be priceless once he gets a look at me.

I pick up the bag and walk the few paces back to my office. A few deep breaths to steady myself, and I open the door.

***

I dig through the drawers of her desk, searching for a few simple tools and something I can make a hook from. There is a small repair kit with the tools I need, but nothing which would be strong enough to hold her toy lightsaber. As I look around the office, I spot a metal hanger holding a picture on the wall. It is simple to yank out and put the photograph aside. A few minutes more, and her belt is ready to wear.

Lights and movement from outside catch my attention. Vehicles have been steadily arriving, but there are considerably fewer now. We are going to be late for this party if Maia doesn’t hurry up.

Then I hear her light touch on the handle of the door.

And turn, to see my wife transformed.

A necklace of golden stones is about her throat; matching gems in her ears. The hideous glass lenses are gone - there is nothing to obscure her shining eyes. And the scarf is missing as well. Maia’s hair falls in curls and ringlets around her face and down her back. Padme, I think as my breath catches a moment.

Maia is a beautiful woman when she wants to be.

‘Maìá, you are so very beautiful,’ I flatter her, before lapsing into Sith to say the things I dare not in Basic. Beloved, I call her, my precious one, my Lady, my wife. My little goddess.

I step towards her, caress her face as I speak, then draw her into my arms, never stopping my flow of words. Finally I fall silent, for there is nothing more I can say, and simply hold her. She sighs and rests her head on my shoulder.

So simple to please, I note, so easy to make happy. All I need to do is wrap her in my arms.

‘We are late for your party, my Lady,’ I tell her, ‘and I think most of the guests have already arrived, judging from the decrease in traffic outside. Now might be a good time to make our entrance.’

‘You aren’t going to tell me what you said just before that, are you, my Lord?’ she challenges me, her curiosity getting the better of her once again.

‘No, my Lady, of course not,’ I tease. ‘I was waiting for you to try and repeat some of it, to see if you would get yourself into more trouble.’

I release her with that but before she can step away, I set her belt around her waist, hooking the clasp shut in front. Her brother’s toy lightsaber now falls at her hip, as it would if it were a working model. I let my hands linger on her waist a moment, enjoying the feel of her firm body under them, then slide one behind her back and steer her out into the hallway.

Maia expects me to behave as if I am her husband.

I will leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that I am.

***

We walk through the Science Building, down the main staircase and head across the central courtyard to the Student Center. The reflecting pool has been filled and the fountains turned on for the occasion, and while the sounds of splashing and running water covers our approach, we are noticed nonetheless.

‘Maia?’ I hear a familiar voice call from behind us.

As we turn, I see that Rick, my oldest and dearest friend, a professor in the Anthropology Department, has dressed as an Imperial Admiral. For once his brown hair is staying out of his blue eyes, I note, and he has finally shaved off that ridiculous beard. Bill, his blond, baby-blue eyed partner is close behind in the same dress uniform, but with a Captain’s rank instead.

Vader stiffens beside me, so I reassure him, ‘It’s alright, my Lord. Rick and Bill are old and very good friends.’

‘Maia, it is you,’ Rick notes as he catches up with us. ‘I think we were the only two who expected Nigel’s story to be true. Everyone else assumed he was just setting up some elaborate joke or another with you as the target, well at least until the guest list was sent out this morning. No offense, my Lord.’

‘None taken, Admiral,’ is the Sith Lord’s easy response.

‘I should warn you both,’ Bill says. ‘Nigel has some mischief up his sleeve. He is wandering about as a Jedi Master with one of his grad students as his padawan. We are willing to run interference if it would help, and our own students have offered to keep him out of the way if they can manage it.’

Rick quickly follows with, ‘I persuaded our department and yours to use the Empire as our themes when we first heard Nigel’s story. Bill and I both figured he was up to something a couple of days ago. You will have plenty of cover if you want it.’

Their offer of help surprises me, and I guess it must show on my face.

‘We both owe you, Maia,’ Rick admits, ‘if you hadn’t forced Nigel to back off the time he decided to make our lives miserable with his incessant teasing, we would never have survived the experience. Consider this partial payback.’

Bill adds, ‘Trust us, thwarting whatever Nigel has planned will be a pleasure.’

I glance at Vader. It will be his decision whether or not to accept my friends’ help. He looks over at me, and I give a quick nod to let him know my opinion.

‘Very well, then. Admiral, Captain, I will accept your aid in this matter,’ he tells them, ‘but if this Jedi Master is foolish enough to confront me directly, do not interfere. I will deal with him myself.’

Rick gives me a knowing and perceptive look. He is far more attuned to people than I am, and he has just figured out some of what is going on.

Resorting to German, he turns to Bill, but addresses his question to me. //This really is him, isn’t it? I can tell by the voice that it isn’t one of your friends in a superbly done costume.//

I answer in a barely perceptible nod, noticing that Vader is watching the exchange between my friends and not me.

//Dear friend, what have you gotten yourself into?// Bill asks, facing his partner.

My response is to raise an eyebrow and slide my arm around the Dark Lord’s waist. He surprises me by doing the same, pulling me tight against his hip, his arm wrapping around my waist to let his hand rest low on my stomach. His attention is still focused on the two men in front of us.

//Serious?// Rick prompts.

Another small nod on my part.

//Make sure he takes you home with him then. You deserve some happiness in your life. His love for you is genuine.// Rick replies.

I stare at him in disbelief. So my conclusion about Vader’s feelings for me was correct. Well, if anyone would know how to read male body language, it would be one of these two. Now I will have to remember to ask Rick for details, later.

Realizing that we won’t be able to get away with our secret conversation for much longer, I order, ‘Knock it off you two. Why don’t you go see how things are going inside and let us know when would be a good time to make our entrance.’

‘My Lord, if you will excuse us,’ Rick says, taking his leave of us, with Bill in tow.

‘I have the distinct impression that I just missed something,’ Vader admits. ‘Tell me, my Lady, am I correct in my assumption?’

‘No, you didn’t miss much,’ I tell him. ‘Those two are horrid flirts and always resort to another language when they don’t want anyone to know what they are going on about.’

My statement is true enough, even though it doesn’t apply to this particular conversation. Luckily, Bill’s wave from the entrance to the Student Center distracts the Sith Lord and he doesn’t press me for further details.

‘Our cue?’ he asks.

‘Yes, and those two will have everything arranged for maximum impact, too,’ I admit. ‘They just love to put on a show.’

I set my hand properly on his arm, just as he had shown me days ago, and we walk side by side to the doorway.

In typical fashion, Rick has set up our entrance beautifully. The hallway to the large dining hall being used as a ballroom is empty. No one is around to warn the unsuspecting crowd that we are coming. I walk calmly beside Vader, only glancing up at him once to reassure myself, just before we step from the corridor into a large room full of people. He regally enters, cloak floating after him, with me at his side, stopping after we are a few paces inside to gaze about and survey his surroundings. There is not a sound to be heard from anyone; every eye in the place is on us.

Letting my own eyes wander about the room, I spot Nigel, who is staring at us, dumbstruck, sitting with his fellow chemists. Each department tends to pick its own theme and have their faculty, students, and alumni dress accordingly. Chemistry, Nigel’s department, have chosen to be rebels, senators, smugglers, and Jedi. That must be Nigel’s doing, I realize. Not good. I will have to be careful to keep my date away from them. Biology have a Medieval theme, Math has gone Roman this year, and History is definitely Civil War era complete with hoop skirts, Blues and Greys. My fellow department members are hanging about with the Anthropology crowd, I happily note, forming a considerable Imperial contingent. Good. We will have quite a few people looking to prevent trouble from the gang over in Chemistry. Hopefully Rick has thoroughly briefed them on the importance of keeping Nigel at bay.

The Sith Lord has obviously spotted my two friends and the rest of the Imperials because he starts to walk across the dance floor in their direction. Rick approaches us from the far corner of the room, meeting us almost exactly in the center. Perfectly in character, he has the military pace and demeanor down pat.

With a deferential nod, he addresses us. ‘Lord Vader, my Lady, I have seen to it that arrangements have been made for you. If you would be so kind as to follow me.’

‘Very well, Admiral...’ Vader begins, then hesitates, not knowing how to complete the sentence.

‘... Torsen, recently assigned to your command from the Invincible,’ Rick smoothly finishes for him without missing a beat. ‘Captain Mallan has brought some of your flagship’s bridge crew with him tonight.’

Rick and Bill’s graduate students, I realize as we follow the ‘Admiral’ to the area he has staked out for our group.

‘My new flagship is still under construction Admiral,’ Vader notes, ‘the Devastator is filling her role for the moment.’

I wonder why he has let that out, but assume the Sith Lord is trying to help Rick and his band play their parts.

By the time we reach the tables set aside for us, the background conversation in the room has become audible again. Even so, I know that our every move is still being watched by a few of those in attendance. When we stop in front of Bill, he jumps to his feet and prompts the others in the group to do the same. A quick round of introductions follows, and I am settled into a high backed chair. An identical one has been set aside for the Dark Lord, but he waves it away and stands beside me instead.

The students sitting at our table are quiet, and I know they are not sure what they can and can’t talk about. Knowing that one of Rick’s students is ex-military, I ask him a few questions about his study of World War II fleet tactics. Once the topic is broached, he easily falls into a long, involved conversation with Vader about how to transfer some of the more successful strategies from two- to three-dimensions. Good, I think to myself, that should keep my date happy and occupied for a while, and help the rest of our group become a bit more comfortable around him.

Rick takes advantage of the Sith Lord’s distraction to strike up a surreptitious talk in German with me, first asking //How on Earth did you end up with him?//

//Engine trouble. Fixed now. He will be leaving tonight.// I reply

//And?...// Rick prompts, nosy as always.

I consider what to tell him. We have been friends since childhood and there is little we don’t share with one another. When either one of us has needed a shoulder, the other has always been there. He helped keep me sane when I was burned and my brother Michael died, and I kept him from suicide when the first great love of his life was killed in a car accident. Truth, I decide. He deserves to hear it.

//I love him more than anything, as you already know, but I am afraid to tell him that.// I admit.

//I wouldn’t worry.// my old friend reassures me. //He already knows that you do, but you need to tell him yourself, and soon. How is he in bed?//

Shocked, I just stare at my friend. Rick is being even blunter than normal, so I blurt out //What?//

//Don’t play coy,// he scolds, //it’s obvious from his body language. No one is that possessive without good reason.//

I still stare at him. Good grief. Rick must be reading more into things than there really is. Well, I guess I could just use what happened in my weird dream to shut him up about it.

Blushing a bit and hoping no one notices, I tell him, //He was kind, caring to me, and he was gentle with me.//

//Good,// Rick decides, //then I won’t have to kill him in a duel for causing you pain.//

The thought that my dear friend would even consider taking on the Sith Lord floors me. So I warn him, //Rick, don’t even consider challenging him. Doesn’t matter that you compete internationally. I watched him practice ‘saber forms this morning. There’s no one on Earth who comes within miles of him in terms of technique or speed. Not even Michael could have ... //

‘What are you two going on about?’ Vader snaps, breaking in on our conversation and making no attempt to be polite. He must have finished his discussion with the student without our noticing.

‘Dueling, my Lord,’ Rick smoothly answers. ‘Your Lady was describing some of the ‘saber forms you showed her this morning.’

Keeping in character, and knowing I have to help divert some attention away from what we were actually talking about, I add, ‘Admiral Torsen competes on occasion, my Lord, with all three blade types, both free-style and traditional techniques.’

‘A potential dueling partner, then,’ Vader notes, ‘practicing against ‘droids does get boring and predictable after a while.’

‘Captain Mallan,’ Rick calls over to his partner, ‘would you mind fetching my foils for me?’ Giving me a knowing look, he adds, //and bring my old friend’s rapiers while you’re at it. She will want to take them with her when she leaves tonight.//

No, Rick, I think to myself, don’t, please don’t do this.

My unspoken, yet heartfelt pleas go unanswered when Rick continues, ‘My Lord, the floor is clear for the next hour or so before the orchestra starts to play. Why don’t you warm up and we can try a bout or two before they do?’

Rick steps onto the dance floor to warm up with simple hand combat forms and to wait for Bill’s return with his foils. I know there is nothing I can do now to stop his recklessness.

He must be mad.

The Sith Lord moves from my side, intending to warm up himself, and I catch his hand to stop him. Drawing him back to me, I whisper, ‘The Admiral, my Lord, is very good, but you are by far the better swordsman. Try not to hurt him too much.’ In response, I am pulled to my feet and escorted to the center of the ballroom floor.

‘My Lady,’ Vader quietly tells me, ‘your concern for one of my officers is unseemly and uncalled for, as is your tendency to have private conversations with the man, in public and in front of me. Kindly restrain yourself from this sort of behavior in the future or I may be forced to discipline both of you for it.’

From the tight way he is holding his body and the barely restrained anger close to the surface, I can tell he is jealous. Keeping my voice low and calm, and just as formal in my words, I tell him, ‘My Lord, my apologies if my behavior has offended you. I have known the Admiral since childhood, and erroneously assumed that a friendship of such long-standing allowed such liberties. It will not happen again.’

He regards me intently for a moment, searching my face for some sign of what, I don’t know. ‘Then why were you blushing, if your conversation was so innocent?’ he finally accuses.

The Sith Lord has dropped both the formal address and speech pattern, I note. He is far more disturbed and upset by Rick’s conversation with me than he is letting on, so I tell him as much of the truth as is safe, ‘He was teasing me, my Lord, as he has always done since we were children. I will not allow him to do so again.’

Again that measuring look from him, and then a concession, ‘Since I cannot touch your mind, I am forced to accept that you are telling me the truth, Maia. But see that you behave in a more appropriate manner in the future.’ Knowing what his reaction might be, I vow to do so for the rest of the evening.

Our isolation in the middle of the dance floor has started to draw attention. The Sith Lord unhooks his cloak and hands it to me. Waving me aside to stand at the edge of the floor, he ignites his lightsaber, sets himself into a starting position and begins one of the simpler forms I saw him perform this morning. There is dead silence in the room except for the hum of his blade, the sound of the fabric in his robes moving as he does, and his regulated breathing. Finishing the first pattern, he adjusts his respiration rate upward and begins a second one. By the time he is into the fourth form, Bill has returned with Rick’s and my own blades, and both he and Rick are staring at what Vader is doing. Since this is the same one he finished with earlier today, I know what to expect. The only difference is the speed. Having an audience brings out the show-off in him, I realize. He is moving far faster, if such a thing were possible, than he did this morning.

Final form completed, Vader returns to a relaxed stance and shuts off his ‘saber. He beckons me to his side and leads me to where my friends are standing. I am careful not to give Rick any worried looks that the Dark Lord might misinterpret, and allow myself to be led back to my chair. Before he returns to the dance floor, I am handed his lightsaber to look after so I set it on top of his cloak which is already in my lap.

The two combatants busy themselves sorting out which of the foils they prefer, and Bill wisely sets my rapiers to the side where Vader can’t see them. Good, I think. My blades are edged and tipped, unlike the blunted foils that Rick uses. While they are occupied with their preparations, one of the members of the organizing committee has made her way to my side, and I know this is the opportunity I need to put some restrictions on what Rick and the Sith Lord might do.

‘Your Majesty,’ I address her, for the Dean in question is dressed as Cleopatra.

‘Lady Vader,’ she acknowledges in return, ‘I sincerely hope that they know the rules and intend on staying within them.’

‘Of course,’ I reply, and raising my voice to make sure the two in question can hear me, I add, ‘but boys will be boys and if they don’t play nicely with one another, I’ll pick up my own blade and teach them a lesson or two.’

Rick’s jaw drops and Vader freezes in place. Good, they got the message. Just to be sure, I ask Bill, ‘Captain Mallan, Viggiani’s rapier, if you wouldn’t mind, please.’

Bill stares at me, shocked. ‘What?’ he manages to get out.

‘You heard me Captain, my blade, if you would be so kind, or must I fetch it for myself?’

Now Rick and Bill are exchanging looks, Vader is staring at me, and I am starting to get rather annoyed at the three of them. Blast it all, men can be such a nuisance. Setting the Sith Lord’s cloak and lightsaber on my chair, I walk over to the bag with my rapiers in it. It takes a minute or so to pull everything out, but I finally have the sword in question in my hand. I loosen the cords holding the silk cover in place and unwrap the scabbard. This is the first time since my brother’s death that I have picked up my family’s heirloom blade. With only a few seconds hesitation, I draw it, noting that it needs to be oiled soon or the edges will start binding on the scabbard’s lining. I unhook the replica lightsaber Jamie gave me and set it on the table. It will only get in my way.

I step away from the table, and walk to the center of the dance floor, knowing that the attention in the room has now shifted to me. It has been years since you have done this in front of anyone, I remind myself, don’t push it. A wicked thought crosses my mind, and I decide to indulge in it. Starting with the same simple form that the Sith Lord had, I begin warming up, repeating exactly what he had done earlier. The skirt of my gown is a nuisance, but at least it swirls out of the way if I move quickly enough. Having seen the fourth form he used tonight, twice, I have the pattern well ingrained in my mind. I know that I can’t match his speed, so I don’t even try to. Instead I concentrate on keeping the changes in blade direction clean and sharp, losing myself in the movements and rhythm of the patterns.

Finishing in the traditional stance I let myself relax and walk back to where Vader is waiting for me. I bet he never expected to see me do that, I think smugly to myself. Stopping a few feet in front of him, I wait for a comment. When there is none, I tell him, ‘My brother Michael was not the only one my grandfather trained, my Lord.’ Then I brush past him, sheath the rapier in its scabbard and return to my chair to see what happens next. Both Rick and Vader turn to watch me resume my place.

‘She hasn’t touched a blade in years, my Lord,’ Rick states in disbelief, staring at me, ‘and I don’t think it has made the slightest bit of difference.’

I let a wicked smile play over my lips. There is that beat up old foil in my closet which has seen a fair amount of use. Just because my practice hasn’t been in the university’s salle or in public doesn’t mean I have let myself get out of shape.

Turning his attention back to the Dark Lord, Rick motions him towards the center of the room, and suggests, ‘Shall we try a couple bouts, my Lord?’

I keep a close eye on the two duelists, my dearest friend and my dearest love. At least Vader seems to have got over his jealous spell. He is actually being rather friendly towards Rick, well, as much as he would be to anyone, I suppose. They reach the center of the floor, shift into starting stances and begin. Rick is being cautious, I note, as he starts with an indirect attack, easily parried by his opponent. Vader’s riposte to Rick’s off side is met and Rick’s counter-attack deflected. Neither man is working at his top speed. They are busy seeing what the other might do and feeling out the other’s technique. Relieved that they are behaving themselves, I settle back into my chair to enjoy the show.

After five minutes of short, simple phrases d'armes, Rick picks up his speed to where it would be during a formal match. I watch the two combatants closely now. Vader is by far the faster of the two, yet he seems content to let my friend set the pace. Good. They both are enjoying themselves and I decide there is no more reason to worry.

I let my eyes wander over the crowd. Everyone appears to be intent on watching the match in front of them and a few are carrying on quiet conversations in the background. My survey, though, fails to spot Nigel. Where has he packed himself off to? He’s probably up to no good setting up some sort of mischief or another. Well, I need to make a fast trip elsewhere and now seems to be a good time to do it. I don’t want to leave Vader’s lightsaber unattended so I hook it onto my belt, and slip out the nearest door into the hallway beyond.

Returning from the bathroom, I find a Jedi, back to me, blocking my route back to the door I had used to leave the ballroom. Who is this? Well, the short black hair could be Nigel’s, I guess, and he is about the right height. Best to be wary here. I take a few steps, letting my shoes click loudly on the floor as I go, then stop. The man whips around. Brown eyes, short dark beard, sharp angular features. Blast it all, it is Nigel.

‘Lady Vader,’ he begins, ‘I can’t wait until midnight to see who on Earth you are here with.’

I am in no mood tonight to put up with any of his nonsense, so I order, ‘Go away, Master Jedi, you wouldn’t want to upset my husband, now would you?’

‘Ah, yes. That’s the other thing I am curious about. Those two friends of yours have you as much as married to him already,’ Nigel needles, looking for an opening. ‘The Ice Maiden, frozen solid for years, only to be thawed and her heart melted in mere days. Who would have thought it possible.’

When I refuse to answer, he tries another tactic, ‘I really am curious to see who he is, you know. I checked with CERN and none of their staff are outside Europe at the moment.’

He would go to the trouble of checking on my story. I warn him, ‘Who he is, is none of your business or anyone else’s, Nigel, so get out of my way before I do something I might regret.’

‘Hit a nerve, haven’t I?’ Nigel starts in on me. ‘If I didn’t know you better, I would think you were busy trying to hide something. Tell me, my Lady, am I correct in my assumption?’

I just glare at him.

‘I must be, given your reaction,’ he astutely observes, ‘and I intend to find out just what it is you are so intent on keeping secret.’

Looking past him, I see the door which was my goal open, and Bill, Rick, and Vader stepping through it. The rescue party, I mentally label them. Nigel turns to check on what has drawn my attention, and I hope he will just leave things be and go away. No such luck though.

‘Well, Lord Vader, from your reaction earlier, I take it your wife never told you about her training or how competent she truly is,’ Nigel slyly states. ‘If you had really wanted to test yourself, you should have dueled with her, not your Admiral.’

He’s trying to stir up trouble between us, so I had better patch this up quickly. ‘The topic, Master Jedi, never came up, and my rapiers are stored here, not at the observatory, as you well know.’ Not entirely true - there is that beat up foil - but close enough.

The Sith Lord makes no answer, simply pushes past Nigel, offers me his arm, and walks me back to where my two friends are waiting.

Once there, he turns, and coldly warns, ‘Stay away from my wife, Master Jedi. This is your one and only warning.’

Nigel lets out a snort of amusement and walks away from us. He can’t resist making one last comment though. ‘The Sith Lord and the scientist. What an unlikely combination.’

Once he is well out of earshot, Vader orders, ‘Leave us, gentlemen. I wish to speak with my wife in private.’

I catch the exchange of worried looks between Bill and Rick, but they hastily comply, closing the door after themselves. Blast, I must really be in for it now.

‘How many other secrets have you kept from me?’ he accuses. ‘I can put up with your impertinence and insolence, even in public as you persist in doing, if I must, but not this.’

‘Secrets? I have kept nothing from you. You never asked me about it and I thought you already knew. Didn’t you see the pictures of my brother and I practicing together?’ I ask him. ‘They were quite prominently displayed on my office walls.’

He is silent at this. Heavens above, does he really think I planned to make a display of my abilities tonight? Grabbing his hand, I pull him over to one of the couches.

‘Sit down and listen to me,’ I order. To my surprise he does so. I cover my nervousness by pacing a bit in front of him. Decision made, I start to talk.

‘My brother and I were very close. Twins almost as you commented the other day. We did everything together as children. When my mathematical gift emerged, he tried to keep pace with what I was being taught; when it became obvious he would be a brilliant swordsman, I followed him into the salle. I was only five when I first picked up a foil and my grandfather was a master of the old school. He made no allowances for my age or innate clumsiness, which he tried rather ruthlessly to train out of me.’ I pause for a moment, thinking of how to proceed.

‘I have never competed formally, my Lord. Outside of my family and a few others at the Admiral’s elite level, no one knows what I can do. My brother was the one who wanted fame and recognition, not I, and when he was killed, I felt it here,’ I reveal, setting my hand over my heart, ‘I knew the instant he died. No one had to tell me, and the pain of it nearly destroyed me.’ I stop again to consider my next words. ‘You wondered at the reactions of the Admiral and Captain to my demand for my blade, didn’t you? I haven’t lifted it in front of anyone since Michael died, and only did so tonight because I was afraid that one of you might do something foolish and injure the other.’

I turn away from him and silent tears slip down my face. If either one of them had been hurt, I don’t think I could have ever forgiven myself. After all, I was the one who brought the topic up with Rick in the first place. I hear the Sith Lord move now from where he is sitting and feel his arms slide around me. Unable to help myself, I turn about and bury my face in his robes. He says nothing, just holds me until my tears stop.

‘Maìá,’ he finally calls me. ‘I understand your concern. I do have a reputation for dispatching my opponents, but I would never have harmed your friend. That foolish Jedi, though, had best not push his luck.’

I smile a little at his threat. That would be funny to see. Nigel would just run away, I am sure. Vader senses my change in mood, and gently tips my face up so he can look at me.

‘You should go wash your face and compose yourself, my Lady,’ he suggests, ‘and when you return, I want you to tell me about your brother.’

After I return his lightsaber, he escorts me down the hall and waits patiently outside the door, guarding me, giving Nigel no chance to catch me alone again. Thankfully I had used very little make-up, and what I did was water proof. A cold towel to my eyes helps with the redness, and a glass of water calms my nerves. Settled once again, I step outside, to find the Dark Lord deep in discussion with one of the Engineering faculty about ion propulsion systems. Smiling and pleased that he is enjoying himself, I move to his side, and am drawn closer when he slips his arm about me and pulls me over to rest against his hip. Now if Nigel just stays away for the rest of the night, things should be fine.

Finally finished his conversation on engines, the Sith Lord guides me down to one of the alcoves off the main hallway. There is no one about, so we pull a couple chairs together and start to talk about my brother. I haven’t looked at these memories since he died - it was just too painful to do so. After fifteen or twenty minutes, Vader shifts the topic to my own reactions to Michael’s death.

‘Tell me,’ he asks, ‘exactly what happened, what you felt.’

I take a few deep breaths. This I really don’t want to discuss, but perhaps it is time to deal with it. ‘It was the start of the term, a few years ago, and Michael was flying home, returning with his unit from a stint overseas as a peace keeper. There was a problem with one of the engines - it caught fire - and the airplane crashed into the ocean. Despite days of searching, they never found his body.’ I stay silent for a few minutes, then continue on. ‘The first class of the day had started and I was just beginning my lecture when I felt him die. It was like having half of my soul ripped out; the pain was excruciating. I blacked out at some point and when I woke, I was in the local hospital with my mother waiting to tell me what had happened to him.’

‘Life-bonded,’ the Sith Lord concludes, ‘and quite strongly as well. Common between twins, rare between siblings otherwise. I don’t understand why or how, though, since the Force does not exist on this world. Strange, very strange.’

The sounds of an orchestra beginning to tune up make their way to us. Vader rises to his feet and offers me his arm, which I gladly take. We stroll leisurely back to the ballroom, resuming our places with the rest of the ‘Imperials’ while we wait for the more traditional portion of the evening’s music to start. I have grown quite thirsty by now, and two of Rick’s students have wisely anticipated what I might want. Glasses of different juices and water are lined up on the table, and after I make my choice, those that remain are rapidly distributed amongst the rest of the ‘bridge crew’.

There will be a few minutes still before the first dance is played, so Rick and the Sith Lord fall into a rather involved discussion about one obscure fencing technique or another. I follow their conversation for a moment or two then let my mind wander a bit. Time for a quick think while no one is talking to me. Rick and Bill are determined to have me leave Earth with the Dark Lord, have been rather persistent about it in fact. My mind clicks - they don’t realize he is here with his TIE and have assumed there is room for me to go with him. Not much I can do about the situation, since I know I can’t go even if I want to. And Rick’s insistence that Vader loves me in return has me puzzled. His possessiveness, yes, everyone can see that he has staked a very obvious claim on me. But love? How did my old friend figure that out?

I give Bill a sideways glance. Vader is occupied with Rick and I need to find out what is the give away for the Dark Lord’s feelings for me. One of Bill’s linguistics graduate students is with us, and I know she speaks several languages. If I am very careful I might be able to get what I want to know in a roundabout fashion.

‘Caitlin, how is your research proceeding?’ I ask.

A few minutes later I have drawn Bill and two of the other students into the conversation and the five of us are tossing phrases and different grammatical forms back and forth in more than a dozen different languages. The Sith Lord looks over at us, as does Rick, who simply shakes his head.

‘My Lord, be glad there are no mathematicians around. It would be far worse listening to their chatter than this,’ Rick flatly states.

Good, I think. He’s been following what we’ve been going on about. Now to slip my question in using a language I know Caitlin and the others aren’t familiar with. //Old friend,// I ask, careful to not give any hint I am aiming my words at him, //How can you tell he loves me? Answer indirectly. He’s very jealous of our friendship.//

‘Wrong form, Captain,’ Rick pipes in, then tells me, //Little things. The way he touches you, tone of voice when he speaks to you,// ‘and you have changed the tenses on that one as well Caitlin,’ //small hints in body language, how he tips his head when he looks at you, very subtle, // ‘can’t you guys get a simple second tense correct?’ //he’s hard to read, very controlled. I can only pick things up when he unconsciously lets something slip,// ‘well I will just have to give up on the lot of you as hopeless for now.’ //with time he’ll relax around you and it will be easier.//.

***

It is almost comical that she still thinks she can fool me, but I give no sign that I have picked up on their third ‘secret’ communication. From the reassuring tone of the Admiral’s voice, whatever my wife wanted to know is nothing I need to worry about.

‘I think you are right, Admiral,’ Maia agrees, ‘they really have no idea how a second tense is properly constructed.’

I see her nod at what her friend said, but her comment is designed to distract from their real conversation.

‘Well, my Lady, perhaps you should instruct them, then,’ Torsen suggests before turning to resume his previous discussion about this world’s early fencing styles with me.

Maia gives him an annoyed look and then launches into a rather detailed description of how the grammatical form they were discussing works. I only half-listen to what she says because I find the history lesson the Admiral is giving me far more interesting. Once my wife’s lecture is finished, she looks over at her friend, daring him to make her do something else.

He ignores her and continues talking to me.

I hear one of the students ask Maia about her background. Curious, I eavesdrop a little, but only catch a few words referring to engineering, geology, and physics. No surprises for me there.

‘And you look so young!’ the student bursts out.

Maia gives her an irritated look. This must be a topic my wife does not like to hear comments about.

Torsen distracts me for a moment, so I don’t hear her answer or what leads to the next question.

‘That’s amazing, my Lady. You must have a really high IQ. What is it?’ the same student asks.

With this her reaction is quite spectacular. My wife glares at the Captain and scolds him rather loudly, ‘Don’t you tell these kids anything? At least make sure they avoid asking me those last two questions or I may have to chase you around the salle a few times to teach you a lesson.’

Her outburst finally draws the Admiral’s attention. Whatever prompted her to threaten the Captain, though, has both him and Torsen laughing at her.

The latter finally gets out, between chuckles, ‘Don’t ever change, my Lady. That was just too hilarious, seeing you on the receiving end of those particular questions.’

‘Think that was funny, do you, Admiral? Just you wait until next Fall,’ Maia threatens, ‘I’ll be sure to send a few of my new students your way, and I know just what to have them ask you, too.’ To her other friend she directs, ‘And stop looking so smug over there, Captain Mallan, I know you put her up to asking me that.’

The student in question looks like she would like to vanish into thin air, but Maia’s words to her are ones of reassurance. ‘Don’t cringe, Caitlin, I know who is responsible here. Next time don’t let the Captain lead you on like that.’

‘Aren’t you going to answer her question, my Lady?’ I ask, curious to find out exactly what has her so annoyed.

‘No, my Lord, and no, I won’t tell you the answer either, so don’t ask,’ she firmly replies.

Stubborn little goddess. But I won’t put up with any public disobedience from you.

‘Oath, my Lady,’ I remind her, ‘you have to obey me, so out with it.’

She stares at me and shakes her head in refusal.

‘Give up on it, my Lord,’ the Admiral advises, ‘in the thirty years I’ve known her, your Lady has never let that secret out in public.’

Secret? Like her ability with a foil? This I refuse to let go by. Maia has to learn she can’t conceal anything from me.

‘Then this will be the first time, Admiral,’ I decide. Turning my attention to my wife, I order, ‘You will tell me, and tell me now.’

She fights the compulsion and throws it off. Very well, the hard way, then. I speak a few words in Sith and yank what I want from her mind.

‘Two hundred four,’ I calmly announce. ‘And next time, my wife, don’t force me to pull the answer to a question I ask from your mind.’

The students and faculty around us have all stopped their conversations and are now staring at both Maia and I. Apparently there is something important and unusual about that number.

‘Fine, you have your answer. Two hundred and four. Any more personal questions, anyone?’ she snaps, furious.

Her temper is in full boil now and I am its focus. I watch Maia get out of her chair, stalk to the door, and close it after herself with a resounding, and what must be to her, satisfying, slam.

The Admiral flinches at the racket, and the Captain is shaking his head.

‘Making that number public knowledge was a really, really bad idea, my Lord,’ Torsen notes.

‘How so?’ I ask.

The two officers look at one another. I am missing something vital here which is obvious to both of them.

‘You’re playing the Admiral tonight, so you tell him,’ Mallan suggests to his partner.

I turn and stare at the other man.

‘She’s going to kill you, my Lord,’ he quietly states, ‘and if she doesn’t do that, you can count on sleeping in your TIE indefinitely.’

‘Exactly what does that number represent?’ I want to know what the problem is.

‘A measure of intelligence,’ Torsen reveals. ‘The average is one hundred.’

It takes a moment to realize what the number I let out means.

‘Oh,’ I reply while I consider what to do.

After a minute or two of silence, I decide it would be best to see what has happened to my wife.

And to find out just how much trouble I am in.

***

Once the door is shut behind me, I stand there fuming for a few minutes. He had no business doing that to me. I have to work with these people and he doesn’t. After a while, I decide the best thing to do is go hide before the Sith Lord comes to find me and deliver another speech about how his wife should behave in public. With that in mind, I begin to hurry down the hallway.

I run promptly into Nigel.

‘Lover’s quarrel?’ he insinuates. ‘Must have been, given the spectacular exit you just made.’

I hear the door quietly open behind me. Nigel hasn’t noticed yet. Good. He is going to be in a heap of trouble in a minute or two.

‘Why don’t you just take a quick trip out the nearest airlock, Master Jedi,’ I snidely suggest. ‘That way you will save my Lord the trouble of doing something far more painful to you.’

‘My, my, nasty tonight, aren’t we, Lady Vader?’ he continues to push. ‘Whatever happened to your sweet retiring demeanor? Has a bit too much of the dark side rubbed off on you? Intimate encounters with a Sith Lord might just have that effect, don’t you think?’

Speechless at his speculations, I glare furiously at him. Why hasn’t whoever opened the door come out and shown themselves?

‘From your reaction and how Lord Vader is acting, I have obviously hit the mark again, dear Lady,’ Nigel needles. ‘I must have interrupted something rather special the other night.’

‘Stay out of my personal life, Jedi,’ I snarl, ‘or what I will do to you will make anything my husband does look like a kindness.’

With this I stalk towards him, furious, and fully intending to make sure he stays away from me for the rest of the evening. Whatever the look on my face is, Nigel has obviously decided that to provoke me further would be a very bad idea. He takes a few hasty steps backwards, then trips and ends up sprawled across the floor at my feet.

Satisfied that my act has given him a good scare, I turn to see who has been hiding behind me. The door is shut again, I note. Guess they decided I had the situation in hand.

Not sure whether I want to go back to the ballroom or not, I decide to find a quiet place to sit for a while and get my temper under control. No such luck though. As I start to head down the hallway, Nigel regains his feet and tries another angle to get at me.

‘I checked the master guest list in the Dean’s office,’ he admits, ‘You never put down his real name, just ‘Lord Vader.’ Rather peculiar of you to do that, don’t you think?’

Blast. There was an oversight I didn’t pick up on. Better not let on about it.

‘Is there a point to your senseless blather, Master Jedi,’ I go on the offensive, ‘or are you just wasting words trying to annoy me?’

Ignoring my comment, he starts speculating out loud, ‘Incognito then. Most unusual. And that stunt you both staged just now about your IQ. One would almost think it was impromptu rather than a clever act. But of course we know that’s impossible, don’t we? Then there is his ability with that lightsaber of his. I would never have thought it possible to see someone whose talent exceeded that of your dear departed brother. Curious, most curious.’

He’s starting to get closer to the truth than is safe. There must be someway to get him off track. While I am trying to come up with something, the door opens wide, then swings shut. I don’t bother to turn and see who it is because the regulated breathing is clearly audible.

‘You, Jedi, have been warned. Now leave before I decide to do something about it,’ the Sith Lord coldly states.

For once Nigel gets the hint and beats a hasty retreat from the area, leaving me to deal with Vader.

‘Come here, my Lady,’ he orders, and I know from his tone that I had better obey him.

I don’t have to run, though, I decide, setting a reasonable pace. Once in front of him, I am pulled along to the same alcove we were in earlier. Here it comes, I think, another lecture on proper behavior and how I had better obey or else.

‘The Admiral explained to me why that particular number was important to you. If I had known, I would have left it be,’ Vader reveals, ‘and judging from the reactions around us, I have created nothing but trouble for you.’

‘That,’ I tell him, ‘is the understatement of the year. I never give that piece of information out to anyone. My mathematical abilities are bad enough, but when people learn just how far removed I am from them mentally, they can’t handle it. A few of my colleagues had some idea about it but only the Admiral and Captain knew the actual number.’ I pause. ‘Now I will probably be treated much the way most in the Empire react to you.’

I start to turn away. The next few months are going to be miserable, and it won’t just be faculty members who will be intimidated and treat me like an outcast. Word will spread all too quickly among the students. Damn it all. The last time this happened was in graduate school, and it was almost two years before people forgot and started acting anywhere near normal towards me. No help for it though, now that the damage is done. Letting out a sigh, I decide to once again do something reckless. Why not? The evening can’t get any worse and I want a bit of comfort.

Turning back to the Sith Lord, I step towards him and slip my arms about his waist. He makes no move to stop or shift me, simply pulls me close against his chest.

‘Thank you,’ I tell him and snuggle in tight.

‘You’re welcome,’ he replies, ‘It’s the least I can do, given the trouble I have inadvertently caused you.’

I wish I could just stay in his arms and not have to go back and face my fellow faculty members and the students in the other room. Rick’s advice plays in my mind. Should I tell the Dark Lord how I really feel? This might be a good time to do it. We are alone, with no one nearby to interrupt. Gathering up my courage, I prepare to tell him, but am stopped when he sets a finger to my lips and pulls the both of us back, farther into the room, out of sight of the two men who have stopped near its entrance.

***

‘I tell you, she’s hiding something and it has to do with whoever is playing at being Lord Vader,’ the Jedi Master states.

So, in annoying and harassing my wife, he has noticed how Maia has been trying to protect me by keeping my identity secret.

‘If you think I am going anywhere near either one of them to find out who he really is, Nigel, you are truly mad,’ his padawan replies. ‘Didn’t you see what he could do with that lightsaber? And she’s almost as good. Why don’t you just forget about it.’

Good advice. I wonder if he is smart enough to follow it, though.

‘Just go and ask around. Someone’s bound to know who he is, and if not, we’ll just wait until midnight and find out then.’ The Jedi lets out a laugh, his voice fading as he walks away from the room we are hiding in, ‘That is, unless he really is Darth Vader.’

Once the two Jedi are out of earshot, I look down at Maia and comment, ‘That Master Jedi is more perceptive than one would expect given his foolish tendencies.’

I see Maia considering what to say in answer.

‘My Lord, the Jedi in question is not the only perceptive one,’ she confesses, ‘the Admiral and Captain know who you really are.’

This is not news to me. I knew that the moment Maia and her friends had that first ‘secret’ conversation of theirs. She should have realized by now I am too smart to fall for that.

My response is a quiet laugh and an admission of, ‘I already knew that, my Lady.’

She stares at me, obviously surprised. ‘You aren’t concerned that someone else might figure it out?’

‘Not really, no. I do not intend to remain here long enough for anyone else to find out the truth of it,’ I assure her.

Music weaves its way through the air to us. The orchestra has finally started to play, I note, and a waltz at that. I release her from my arms, take her hand in mine and lead her back to the ballroom door. Once there, she tries to move her hand onto my arm, into its proper position, but I tighten my grip on it. From what I have seen other couples do tonight, a bit of public hand-holding is expected and I want to make a point or two with that nuisance of a Jedi Master. I open the door with my free hand and usher her back into the ballroom.

Ignoring the rest of the Imperial contingent as we enter the room, I bring her onto the dance floor. Then we are in one another’s arms, easily moving about the room in time to the music. I catch a glimpse of the Admiral’s and Captain’s faces. They look rather stunned.

Maia must have seen them as well because she starts snickering a little.

‘My Lord,’ she comments, ‘I think you have managed to completely surprise your two officers over there.’

‘I suspect, my Lady,’ I reply, ‘that it has more to do with you than me.’

She missteps at my comment, so I spin her around to cover it. While I dislike making a spectacle of myself this way in public, I am enjoying myself nonetheless. My cloak fans out behind me and her dress swirls about us, probably making quite the impression on the crowd. They are also ensuring that the other couples on the floor are giving us a wide berth. I feel Maia relax in my arms as I move her about wherever I want.

‘The waltz is almost finished,’ she whispers to me, warning me.

This is apparent to me because I can hear the theme of the music start to draw to its conclusion. I prepare to spin her about, and to Maia’s surprise, complete the dance just as we practiced it, down on one knee in front of her, cloak spread in a circle behind me.

The next dance will not be a waltz, but something else, so I ask, looking up into her face, ‘Shall we return to our table, my Lady?’

‘Of course, my Lord,’ she answers.

A moment later I am escorting her off the dance floor, one arm wrapped possessively around her. This is the first time I have done this in front of everyone here. In the next minute or two, I want to make it blatantly obvious how things are between us.

Reaching her two friends, I step back and wrap my arms around her from behind, taking her hands in mine and holding them tight to her body under my own. I feel Maia stiffen in surprise before she relaxes and leans in to me. The Captain raises an eyebrow at my action, and the Admiral, I note, is having a rather difficult time keeping a silly grin off of his face. The best expression though, is the one that Jedi Master is wearing, and since I am staring right at him, he should know that he is the one I am deliberately putting this show on for. The Jedi is looking at us with his mouth open and he is obviously rather flabbergasted. He is still trying to figure out exactly who I am and can’t believe that Darth Vader might actually act this way towards Maia.

Point made, I return my attention to the Admiral and ask, ‘A word or two with you in private, Admiral, preferably somewhere we will not be interrupted.’

‘As you wish, my Lord,’ he replies.

I let Maia go and lead her along after her friend. If I leave her behind in the ballroom, that Jedi will probably harass her again, regardless of my warnings to him. The Admiral enters a room, using a passcard to open the door, then deadbolts it after us, preventing anyone else from coming in.

‘I have several tasks for you to perform, Admiral Torsen, and important information to give to you, but there is something I need to do before doing so,’ I say.

Maia is curious, wondering what I want her friend to do, but this is one conversation she won’t be privy to. I pull her into my arms, speak a few words in Sith, using the suggestions I have already planted in her mind to put her into a trance. Her head sags against my shoulder, and I catch her in my arms, preventing her from falling to the floor.

‘What have you done to her?’ Rick asks, concerned.

‘Merely ensured that she will have no memory of what transpires in here. She will be fine once I release her from the trance,’ I reply, picking her up as I do so and settling her comfortably on one of the couches. Then I turn back to the Admiral and continue, ‘I know that you are well aware of who I really am, Admiral, and as you are her closest, most trusted friend, I will be completely honest with you.’

He seems surprised I knew that and at my offer of truthfulness, but I have no reason to deceive him and I need his help.

‘Somehow, my Lord,’ he flatly states, ‘I suspect that I will not like what you are going tell me.’

Maia’s friend is assuming the worst. I wonder how he will react to what I will tell him.

‘Like it or not, Admiral, I will tell you the truth,’ I affirm. After a pause, I calmly add, ‘Maia swore an unbreakable oath to me yesterday, one which could be taken as the equivalent of a marriage vow if I so chose. Last night I made the decision to do so.’

The Admiral is silent, staring at me in disbelief, so I look down at my wife and quietly admit, ‘By ancient tradition I am required to act on such an oath immediately so I did, using illusion and suggestion to make it easier for her to accept me. Maia is my wife in fact, Admiral.’ I switch my gaze back to her friend and tell him my plans, ‘All that remains is to file the formal contract and inform the Emperor I have taken a consort, both of which I will see to after I return to my new flagship with her. In a few days, when she has recovered from the journey, I will tell her what I have done and have Admiral Griff perform a short military marriage ceremony, if she wants a public wedding, though this is not necessary.’

He continues to stare at me, completely stunned by what he has just heard. I should have expected this reaction. It will be the same from many in the Empire when my marriage is announced.

‘She’s your what?’ he blurts out.

‘My wife,’ I repeat, then patiently explain. ‘She swore the oath herself, without any prompting from me, by foolishly repeating and changing the meaning of something I said to her in Sith. I gave her every opportunity to recant her words, but she refused, and was rather adamant that I not only accept her vow but act on it. Fortunately, I want her as my consort regardless of this, so it is not a problem.’

He must accept that Maia is my wife if he is going to be of use to me.

‘I think you are going to have bigger problems than whether or not you are happy about this oath she swore to you, my Lord,’ he warns. ‘Maia is going to be furious that you did not tell her what the situation was or ask her to accept you as her husband. You should be able to smooth that over without too much trouble by asking her to marry you, before undergoing whatever ritual you use to formally recognize the marriage, as is the custom here.’

Blunt, to the point of being rude, but he is being as honest with me as I am with him. And it is fortunate he has let me know what the customs here require. It should be easy enough to do as he has suggested. My wife’s anger, however she chooses to express it, I can manage.

‘Then I will ask her to marry me tonight, before we leave, and use the formal military ceremony instead of the shorter one. There should be more than enough ritual in that to satisfy her,’ I decide.

The Admiral nods in response and reveals, ‘My dear friend has been rather fond of you for many years, my Lord, kept track of every battle, every bit of available news about you. She told me tonight that she loves you, though I think you already know that. Maia will give you ‘yes’ as an answer. You have nothing to worry about there. As for your not telling her, well, knowing your Lady as I do, I would not want to be in your boots when she finds out the truth about that.’

Her feelings for me are old and deep-seated then. No wonder she has been so unshakeable in her loyalty and willingness to help me.

‘I can handle anything she might say or do, Admiral. Do not concern yourself about that,’ I reply, amused with his concern for my welfare.

I know Maia’s fury at the Jedi Master was only an act to scare him.

Rick looks at my wife, then smiles at me. ‘She has always wanted children and absolutely dotes on her niece and nephew and the many young cousins she has. Give her two or three of your own, my Lord, and she will be happy and content with you.’

Useful and accurate information, but this is something I had already suspected. I remember how her expression and voice softened when she showed me her pictures of her little niece and nephew, the longing that was there. Maia will be a good, loving mother to my son.

‘Good. I want an heir or two,’ I admit, ‘and she will have no objections to that. Now, Admiral, I have several things that I need you to do for me.’

‘I am yours to command, my Lord,’ he answers, and I can tell that he is amused that he is getting to play the part of an Imperial officer in reality.

I pull out the stack of neatly folded papers and Maia’s stylus. The second one I finished, I will need first, so I unfold and lay it out on the closest table. I turn the pages over until I reach the last one.

‘I have written out the formal marriage contract between Maia and myself,’ I reveal. ‘You will sign it as a witness as will the Captain. I tricked my wife into writing the Sith version of her name on it earlier.’

‘And what exactly is in this, if you don’t mind my asking?’ The Admiral’s nosiness is quite evident in his voice.

Is everyone on this planet cursed with curiosity?

It will do no harm to answer him, though, so I tell him, ‘It’s the usual marriage settlement. Transfers of property and funds from my holdings into her hands. There are provisions to safeguard her and our children if she is widowed. I am a wealthy and powerful man, Admiral, one with many enemies. If something does happen to me, she will need to be protected, legally.’

The Admiral quickly adds his name to the page, writing in Aurabesh, to my surprise.

‘You know Aurabesh script?’ I ask. ‘I thought no one on this world was fluent in it.’

‘A few are, my Lord,’ he admits, ‘and I am an expert in linguistics. The Captain is literate in it as well, but your wife has never had the time to learn so you will have to teach her.’

An easy lesson to teach if she is as adept with languages as she demonstrated tonight. And his admission means I do not have to ask someone else to do the remaining tasks I need done.

‘Then you can take this letter to her family for me and read it to them,’ I decide, handing him the letter I had left folded up.‘They will need to have some explanation for why she has vanished. I will leave it to you to convince them that she is alive and safe with me.’

I hold the last sheets of paper out to him. These are my proof to her family that what is in the letter is true.

‘They won’t want to believe that Darth Vader came here, decided to marry their daughter, and took her back to his flagship with him, so give these to her father to convince him that his daughter is with me. These are hand sketched blueprints of both an ion propulsion system and hyperdrive. You will have to help him by transcribing my notes into your own script.’

Her engineer father will accept this sort of evidence, once he realizes that the designs will actually work. I fold up the marriage contract and give that to the Admiral as well.

‘The last task I have for you is to ask the Captain to add his own name to this and then return it to me. That is all the errands I have for you, Admiral, and I am grateful that you are willing to do them for me. Now, I have two questions I would like to ask you about my wife,’ I say.

I see the odd look he gives me and know he is debating if he should answer whatever I choose to ask.

‘Ask away, my Lord,’ the Admiral concedes, ‘but if I feel it is something you should be speaking to your wife about, I won’t give you an answer.’

‘Just how good a swordsman was her older brother, and how does Maia compare to him?’ I ask.

I want a more objective evaluation than what Maia might give me, and I am curious to see what he might say.

After thinking for a moment, he tells me, ‘Michael, Maia, and I trained together for several years under her grandfather, until she was sent away to university that is. Her brother was a natural and phenomenal, even at an early age. In style and technique, at the time of his death, perhaps he was approaching your own abilities, my Lord, but without the edge the Force gives you, he could never have matched your speed. Maia on the other hand, is innately clumsy, and her grandfather was at times rather brutal in his attempts to rid her of that trait. She spent many more hours in the salle than Michael or I ever did. The only time she is not prone to tripping or foolish accidents is when she has a foil or rapier in her hand, so I guess that part of her training was effective if rather harsh.’

He pauses, looks down at my wife.

‘In all the years I have practiced with her, I have rarely been able to land a touch on her unless she deliberately let me do so. Her brother was the same. In technique, she has lagged behind him, since her academic career has taken up so much of her time, and she never could come close to Michael’s speed. Maia’s talent is her ability to put a blade exactly where she wants it to be every single time. She uses her mathematical gift to constantly calculate and correct every move she makes based on speed, angle, rotation of her body and so on. She also uses her gift to predict and anticipate what her opponent will do. You saw some of what she is capable of tonight, so you should be able to compare her with yourself.’

I take a moment to consider his honest, if slightly biased, appraisal. Her brother, with the Force as an ally, would have been a formidable opponent. What a pity I can never test myself against him. And Maia. I know about her clumsiness, having seen the results of it several times. When I have the chance, I decide, I will test her in the salle and see what she can do.

I nod to him that his reply has satisfied me and ask my second question, the one I have wondered about for days, ‘Why is she completely unafraid of me?’

‘I don’t know if I really can or should answer that,’ he admits. ‘As I told you before, she has always been rather fond of you and closely follows what news there is from the Empire just to see what you have been up to.’

He pauses, debates what to say next, obviously uncomfortable with telling me anymore about my wife’s feelings for me.

Finally he reveals, ‘Before Nigel was hired she used to keep a small statue of you in her office, but he teased her mercilessly about it until she hid it away somewhere inside her desk just to get him to leave her alone. Michael was the one who gave it to her, when she was in the burn unit, fifteen or so years ago, and I would guess that her lack of fear goes back to that. Once, when she was in agony from the chemical burns, she told me if you could deal with far worse than that, then she would simply put up with what had happened to her. For years afterwards, she dragged that statue everywhere she went, though she would never let anyone know that she had it with her.’

She knew about my injuries years ago. And that statue meant a great deal to her, and not just because of who gave it to her. Idolized. My wife idolized and worshiped me.

Speaking on a different bent, he keeps going, ‘I suppose some of it is simply that she identifies with you and realizes your talent with the Force isolates you from people the same way her mathematical abilities do her. You saw what happened tonight once our colleagues and students discovered just how far removed she is from them in terms of mental capability. The same thing occurred years ago when she was a student, and that experience is why she is now so secretive about what she can do.’

True. We were both lonely and isolated. But no more. We will have one another’s company now.

‘If I were to be presumptuous, my Lord,’ he finishes, ‘I would say that she probably relates to and understands you far better than anyone else, and with that understanding and empathy comes her fearlessness.’

Empathy. Something warns me in the depths of my mind, but I brush it aside. Maia needs to be brought out of the trance and I have spent enough time talking to the Admiral.

‘Thank you, Admiral,’ I finally state, then turn my attention to Maia. ‘Time to bring my wife out of the trance I have kept her in.’

Instead of leaving Maia on the couch, I pull her to her feet and hold her in my arms. She will not realize how much time has passed if I am careful. A few words in Sith, and her mind will empty, the last half hour disappear as if it never happened. I tell her what I need to, but she does not wake as she should. Her body becomes rigid as she goes into a seizure, then she is completely limp, lifeless against me.

***

I hear the Sith Lord’s baritone voice calling my name and he sounds rather worried. His hand runs down my cheek, and I open my eyes to see him sitting close beside me, only to promptly shut them again. The room is spinning and I don’t like the sensation. He pulls me up into his arms from where I am laying on the couch next, and just holds me to his chest. What is wrong with me? I remember coming into the Faculty Lounge and Vader telling Rick he wanted him to do something for him, but nothing after that.

‘How is she?’ I hear Rick ask.

‘A very bad reaction, Admiral. My wife must have been partially aware and fighting against the trance the entire time we spoke. She will just have to work her way through it,’ the Dark Lord tells him, and I wonder what on Earth he is talking about. ‘I must stay with her until she recovers, but if you are needed elsewhere, you should go.’

‘Thank you, my Lord. I probably should go see what mischief my students have gotten themselves into,’ Rick replies.

I hear him walk to the door, slide back the deadbolt and leave.

‘Maia,’ Vader calls to me, ‘you need to center yourself, find your balance point. If you don’t, you will lose yourself within your own mind. I cannot touch your mind with the Force to help you with this. You must do this for yourself or I will have no other choice than to do something I would rather not.’

Too miserable and dizzy to do anything else, I just lay against him and moan softly. Does my head ever feel weird and I know if I open my eyes I will lose it completely. After fighting to refocus myself for what seems to be an eternity, I finally give up and let myself drift. Once he realizes I can do no more, the Dark Lord shifts me slightly in his arms, then leans back into the cushions, pulling me closer so that gravity now holds me in place against him. His hands cup my face, and I feel the sharp edge of his helmet’s brow touch my forehead. If I open my eyes, I will be looking directly into the lenses of his mask.

***

She can’t help herself.

And I can’t leave her like this.

I pull her near, prepare myself, and let my senses, my presence touch the place where her broken bond is located. Her mind grabs me instantly, drags me in, and I feel her pain along the paths I can now access her mind with. My darkness is burning her, but that will soon ease. I wait patiently for it to do so, then look about. What an organized mind she has. This is no surprise, given her chosen field of expertise.

With a touch, I locate her conscious self, pull it closer, anchor it in place. There will be no more accidents like this one if I can help it. I spend a few brief moments looking about some more, examining her thoughts and emotions.

Then I try to leave.

And find myself solidly, permanently bound to her.

Again, I have a choice.

I hesitate a moment, then make it.

As I go, exit her mind, I pull part of her self along with me, following long empty paths in my own mind. Paths my Padme once filled. The paths I heard her call my name along the moment she died.

Maia’s light presence hurts me as much as my dark one must have done to her. I cradle it close, wrap shields around it, use the darkness in my mind to hide it carefully away. My master must never know of this, must never discover what I have just done.

Love is forbidden for a Sith Lord.

***

Opening my eyes, I find myself looking straight into his through his helmet’s lenses. Rats. I wish I could see what color they really are.

‘My Lord, are you alright?’ I ask him, worried that he has done himself some harm.

‘I will be, my Lady, if you give me a few minutes and shift yourself a bit,’ he wryly tells me, and I realize that I have him trapped in a rather uncomfortable, slightly compromising position.

Oh. This is one situation I would not have expected to find myself in. Sprawled on top of Darth Vader with my hands pinned between us where they probably shouldn’t be.

I let myself slide off to one side so that I am laying next to him with my head on his shoulder and my right arm and leg draped over him. Better, I think. Curling up to him like this is quite comfortable, I decide. When I feel more like moving, I will, unless he shoves me aside first.

Curious about what he just did, I venture, ‘What happened to me and how did you fix it?’

‘You fainted and lost your point of balance. Don’t they teach you anything here? Someone with your mental abilities should know how to keep their mind centered under any conditions. I have seen to it that it won’t happen again.’ He sounds extremely irked, I decide, but I also know, somehow, that he is not telling me the entire truth about what just occurred either.

‘You aren’t going to tell me how you fixed it, are you?’ I challenge him.

‘No, and don’t ask me again,’ he scolds.

My stubborn streak kicks in. I know he did something to get into my mind. Looking inward, I lay quietly next to him while I try to figure out what he did. There is nothing on the surface, so I peer deeper. What is that? That shouldn’t be there; that’s where my brother used to be. I stare mentally at the cold, dark spot in my mind. He didn’t, he wouldn’t, couldn’t do that to me. Well, there is one sure fire way to find out. I lightly touch the dark spot and gently send my love for him through it.

There is no response, so I give the spot a much stronger nudge with the same emotion. The Sith Lord’s reaction is instantaneous. I am pulled into his arms as he rolls over on top of me. Once I am securely pinned beneath him, he keeps most of his weight off of me by leaning on his right arm while his left is laying across my chest. Well, Maia you wanted a reaction and you most certainly got one, and this is an even more intimate position than the one you were in earlier. Now what are you going to do?

‘Don’t ever do that again,’ Vader warns me, moving his left hand to shake a finger at me before resting a fingertip on the end of my nose, ‘not unless I have given you permission to do so or your life is in danger.’

‘What exactly did you do to me?’ I ask again, though I am sure I now know the answer.

‘The only way I could get you centered was by forcing my way into your mind,’ he reveals, shifting his hand to rest against my right cheek. ‘If you had not been previously bonded to your brother and the empty paths left intact after his death, it would have been impossible. Unfortunately, when I did that, I ended up life-bonded to you myself. Now, since you are so curious about it, I will let you feel something like what you just did to me.’

There is an odd prickly sensation in my mind, then I feel overwhelming desire and passion pour across our bond. My body involuntarily reacts to his emotions. I arch myself up against him and moan softly, pulling him closer to me by wrapping my arms around his back. One of my hands reaches for his belt, and I give a few frustrated tugs before I give up trying to removing it. I want him, need him, right here, right now. The Sith Lord merely laughs at my reaction.

Want me, do you? I hear him in my mind, teasing me. Shall I do what you want me to?

‘Yes, I want you right now, my Lord,’ I tell him, not caring that I am behaving like a love-sick fool, and not the least bit concerned about what he might do.

His hand caresses my face, and Vader abruptly shuts off the flow of emotions he had been sending to me. I lay trembling beneath him, trying to cope with the aftermath of having my mind flooded in such a way. If we were married and did that to one another, the experience would be incredible.

He chuckles again, and replies, almost in answer to my thought, ‘Rumor has it that sex between those who are life-bonded can be quite the experience. Do you want to try it?’ His hand is waved towards the door and I hear the deadbolt lock. ‘No one can come in to interrupt now.’

I stare up at him, shocked. Darth Vader is propositioning me? Now? Here? Is he serious this time or not?

‘From the look on your face,’ he teases me, ‘I take it that you don’t know what to answer. Perhaps in another time and place, then, my wife, when I can ensure there is no possible chance we will be disturbed and I can do so properly, without my armor interfering with what I want to do.’

He really is serious. Speechless now, I remain where I am, waiting for what he might say or do next. We lay there for a few silent minutes while I try to make up my mind what to do. Forgetting his lectures, I reach up and touch the cheek of his mask. I know what I want now, but will he really go along with it or has he just been teasing me like he did before?

***

I pull her hand away and look at her for a long moment.

‘I know what your answer is, my Lady, but you are not ready to deal with our life-bond or what I would want from you,’ I tell her, with some regret.

No, despite my teasing, this is not the time or place for that. I see a disappointed, but slightly relieved, expression appear on her face. Soon, my wife, soon you will have your wish fulfilled. I shove myself up and away from her, moving to sit next to her on the couch. Then I look over at her, open my arms and motion her into them.

What I must do next will cause her pain so I will let her relax a moment in my embrace once I am finished.

Maia happily curls up beside me, wraps her arms about my waist. There is no fear, no concern to be felt from her, only warmth and love and trust.

Little goddess, I did warn you about trust.

I move my hands to her face, and feel her pain as I push into her mind once again. A second look around and I find her feelings for me, despite her attempts to hide them.

*How embarrassing,* I hear her think, as she blushes in response.

*You have no reason to be shy about this,* I reply in kind. *It pleases me to know you feel this way for me.*

I begin to retreat, and with a deft touch, put a barrier around my permanent presence in her mind to keep my darkness from affecting her. The paths in her mind need to heal, to adjust to the presence of a Sith Lord, and they won’t if she can find and worry away at them, so I blend the barrier in, making it invisible to her. Maia will learn of this later, when all is well, and I can teach her how to use our bond.

*No,* she thinks at me, pleading when she realizes what I am doing. *No, please don’t leave me alone again. I love you and I don’t think I could bear that. I will need to know that you are safe out there, somewhere, once you have left my world and I am stuck here by myself.*

I hesitate.

Maia has spent three years without her sibling bondmate, three years with that emptiness, that loneliness and ache I know all too well. An adjustment to the barrier will soothe her, let her subconsciously know I am there, and give me easy access to her mind if I need it. I make the necessary changes, then fade her memories of our bonding away. With a sharp rap against her mind, I disorient her and wait for her to awake.

***

There is a moment of blackness, and then I am awake, held gently in Vader’s arms on the couch.

‘What happened to me?’ I ask him.

‘You had a nasty dizzy spell and have been unconscious for most of the last hour,’ the Sith Lord tells me. ‘I have stayed at your side while you recovered. The Admiral was here for a while, but thought it best to see what the bridge crew were up to. We should go see them, when you are ready, for a few minutes ourselves.’

Dizzy spell? I fainted? That is something I have never done before. Well, I guess the stress of the past four days and my irregular eating and sleeping habits were bound to catch up with me sooner or later. Checking on Rick and his gang can wait a few minutes though. Since Vader is already holding me, I intend to take full advantage of the situation. With a sigh, I pull myself in close to him. A moment later I hear laughter rumbling in his chest.

‘So easy to please, aren’t you?’ the Sith Lord teases.

I just lay my cheek against the soft robes by his shoulder and try to purr happily at him.

‘You are truly unique in your fearlessness, do you know that?’ he muses out loud. ‘If only I had found you years ago, my Lady. How different my life might have been with you at my side.’

Somehow I can feel some of his intense loneliness as he tells me this. How sad, I think, to be so alone, so isolated for all those years. It must be terrible for him to know that he can’t take me with him when he so obviously wants to do so. I try to send a few comforting thoughts his way, and as I do, he pulls me in tighter, almost as if he heard me, though I know that’s not possible. Responding in kind, I snuggle closer and try to send another thought or two his way.

I love you, I tell him, more than life itself, and I would follow you anywhere if you asked it of me.

The Dark Lord is silent after I do that, obviously deep in thought about something. I am content to stay where I am, but the evening is fast passing and there is still the long drive back to the observatory before he can leave.

‘My Lord, we should go see the Admiral for a few minutes,’ I finally say, breaking the silence in the room.

He nods, and rather reluctantly lets go of me before drawing me to my feet beside him. I notice that he is careful to keep a hold of my hand or waist, steadying me as I need it. My shakiness surprises me. Surely a little faint shouldn’t have this strong an after effect? We stand there, silent, while I regain my equilibrium. When I am sure I can walk without too much trouble, I take a step and the Sith Lord keeps his arm about me for support.

By the time we have returned to the ballroom, I feel a bit more secure on my feet. Vader, however, has not moved his arm from its position around me. I see that the orchestra has finished for the evening, and the band which will play for the next hour is busy setting up. Time to beat a hasty retreat since there is very little modern rock or pop music that I like. Before I can suggest leaving, though, I am guided over to my chair and sat down.

The Sith Lord heads immediately over to Rick and Bill, and pulls both of them to the opposite side of the room, out of my range of hearing. Those three have been up to something, I think, when I see Bill hand him some folded sheets of paper which promptly disappear somewhere. I am not the only one watching the exchange, though. Nigel is also staring at the three men.

When the Dark Lord returns to my side, I see Nigel’s expression change, become quite thoughtful. A moment later his eyes narrow and he gives a sudden start. He watches us intently, then seems to make a decision, rises from where he has been sitting and heads straight for us. Oh, no, he’s going to confront the Sith Lord right here in front of everyone. I tug on Vader’s arm, and when he bends over, reach up to draw his head down to mine by placing one of my hands on the cheek of his mask regardless of his lectures about over-familiarity in public. This is important enough, I decide, to break that rule.

‘Nigel thinks he has figured out who you really are,’ I whisper to Vader, warning him, ‘and he is going to try to create an uproar about it by provoking you into doing something which will make it apparent to everyone.’

The Sith Lord does not scold me for my behavior, just takes my hand from where I had laid it against his mask and holds it in his own for a few seconds before giving it a reassuring squeeze and setting it in my lap. He is completely calm. Good. Maybe he will give Nigel enough of a scare that my foolish colleague will finally get the hint and stay away.

When Nigel is fifteen or twenty feet from us, he stops, sets his hands on his hips and just stares for a moment. His progress across the room has drawn the attention of everyone in it. There is now dead silence. Here it comes, I think.

‘Well, Lord Vader, I do hope you have an adequate explanation for why you are here and not with the fleet hounding members of the Alliance. Surely the Emperor keeps you on a rather tight leash these days since you made such a mess of the Death Star’s defense at Yavin,’ Nigel prods, looking for a reaction.

There is no response from the Dark Lord other than to cross his arms over his chest and look at Nigel. I flinch a little at what the Master Jedi has said though. From what I have read, I know that Vader was punished by his master rather severely and painfully for that failure. Seeing that his first tactic has failed, Nigel decides to try another.

‘Perhaps a holiday, then? Tired and bored of chasing Jedi and rebels are you? The sights are rather dreary in our area this time of the year. Maybe you should try visiting some of the more scenic parts of our planet.’

This volley produces a snort of amusement from the Sith Lord, something he has not done before, but he still makes no move towards Nigel, just continues to stand calmly beside me. Rick and Bill, though, I notice, have moved to where they can easily tackle Nigel if the opportunity presents itself.

I see a rather sly expression make its way across Nigel’s face, and glancing a moment at me he says, ‘Or maybe you are out wife hunting? Surely you haven’t decided to visit our isolated world just to find a suitable mate. And to choose the Ice Maiden at that. You must be very good to thaw that frozen heart, and in mere days, too.’

That attempt to needle the Sith Lord was a very bad mistake on Nigel’s part. He is starting to push the bounds of what Vader will tolerate from him on my behalf. The Dark Lord stiffens beside me, but somehow restrains himself. One or two more statements like that, though, and he will be after Nigel. My departmental colleagues at the table next to us, I see, are starting to glare daggers at the Jedi Master as well. Good, Nigel, keep it up and you will have more trouble than you will ever be able to manage.

‘Hit a nerve have I?’ Nigel observes. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t that difficult after all. Everyone here knows your Lady has a rather ridiculous fixation on you.’

Glaring at Nigel, I let out an audible hiss of displeasure. That is just about the last thing I want Vader to know about me. The Sith Lord merely looks down at me and chuckles. Where did that reaction come from? I look over at Rick who simply shrugs and shakes his head. So, they were busy talking about me while I was out cold. Well, I hope my old friend is ready for a few matches in the salle since I intend to teach him a lesson or two about keeping his mouth shut.

Seeing that trying to get at the Sith Lord through me has failed, Nigel stays silent for a long moment. What is he going to try next, I wonder.

‘Have you told your Lady who you really are?’ Nigel asks and I freeze in place dreading what he will say next. Sure enough, he chooses to let the proverbial cat out of the bag, in saying, ‘It’s not every day one meets a fallen Jedi turned Sith, Lord Vader. Or should I say, Anakin Skywalker?’

‘That name no longer has any meaning for me,’ the Dark Lord snaps.

He takes several steps away from me, towards the Jedi Master, then stops. I can tell he has finally lost all patience with Nigel from the tight, controlled way he is holding his body. His anger is getting very close to the surface now. I give Rick a desperate glance and mouth silently at him, Get the Dean. Message received, I see Rick lean over, and pass it in a whisper to Bill who quietly backs up out of Vader’s line of sight before taking off at a dead run. Hopefully the cavalry will arrive in time.

‘Oh, but certainly the Skywalker part should, shouldn’t it? It was your son who destroyed the Death Star after all,’ Nigel reveals, ‘and he just happens to be the Alliance’s prized Jedi, too.’

Blast it all Nigel, he isn’t supposed to know that yet. The Dark Lord gives a violent jerk and I know he must be rather shocked at what he has just been told. He makes no further move towards Nigel and I suspect that he is busy trying to deal with this newly acquired knowledge. Good, that should buy me the time I need. Where is Bill and the help I sent him for? In a panic, I look over at the chemistry table. Sure enough, Trisha, my good friend in that department is there, and heaven be praised is playing Mon Mothma tonight.

‘Caitlin,’ I whisper, reaching over to yank Bill’s student to my side. ‘Go get Mon Mothma, she’s a friend of mine. I’m calling in every favor she owes me and putting myself forever in her debt. Tell her that and have her call Nigel off right now. I’ll explain to her why tomorrow. Go, hurry.’

Caitlin wastes no time, I note, rapidly arriving at my friend’s side. There is a hurried exchange between them. Once their conversation is finished, Trisha looks over at me, makes eye contact, and we both nod at the same time.

‘I want to know exactly how you came across that information, Jedi, and you had better tell me the truth of it,’ Vader threatens, taking a menacing step towards his antagonist.

Blast, I had hoped he would take a bit longer to recover from the shock he just had.

Mon Mothma turns to two of the graduate students sitting next to her who are dressed as Jedi. There are a few quick words, and the three of them rise as a group.

Nigel lets out a snort of amusement. ‘Don’t act so surprised, my Lord, that happens to be one secret that just about everyone knows.’

The Dark Lord again stops, shocked, but this time instead of remaining silent, he lets out an angry growl and moves to take his lightsaber in hand.

Trisha and her reinforcements are not going to arrive before Nigel does irreparable damage, or ends up in pieces, and there is still no sign of Bill and the Dean. The only way to prevent a disaster is to take matters into my own hands. I use the arms on the chair I am in to shove myself to my feet, and time seems to slow down. It takes all my concentration to manage a few shaky steps. Unfortunately I don’t reach the Sith Lord’s side before I stumble and feel myself start to pitch forward. Better let him know what’s about to happen to me, so I give a stricken sounding cry as I fall towards the floor.

I hear fabric snap and several rapid steps as my legs give way. Two arms catch me before I hit the floor, then I am lifted up and cradled tight into a chest.

‘Consider yourself fortunate, Master Jedi, that my wife is of more concern to me than you are. The next time, I will kill you,’ the Sith Lord coldly warns.

‘That will not be necessary, Lord Vader,’ I hear my friend Trisha, Mon Mothma, say. ‘Masters Garrett and Tomas will be in charge of this idiot for the rest of the night.’

I turn my head a bit from where it is resting against Vader’s shoulder and smile when I see Nigel grabbed by the two burly students and taken out of the room.

‘You have my most sincere apologies for his appalling behavior and outrageous statements,’ Mothma states.

With a graceful bow, she returns to sit with the rest of the rebels. Thank you, my friend, I think at her, knowing I will forever owe her for that.

The Sith Lord silently watches her go, and once she is at her table, he turns and carries me to my chair. Once I have been settled into it again, he resumes his place next to me, hooking his thumbs in his belt as he did before. From his body language, he has calmed himself down again, but I wonder what impact Nigel’s premature revelations will have on him. While I am trying to sort out the potential timeline implications, Bill returns, with the Dean, Cleopatra, beside him.

‘Sorry we couldn’t get back here in time, my Lady,’ Bill apologizes.

‘I have barred Nigel from the building for the rest of the night,’ Cleopatra states, pulling up a chair to sit beside me. ‘If there is any further trouble from him, I will see to it that he leaves the campus immediately. He has been allowed to behave this way for far too long, but this was the first time in such a public place. I will be able to deal with him formally now.’ She gives me a sympathetic squeeze of the hand. ‘I am sorry, my Lady, that you and your Lord were on the receiving end of it though.’

Too surprised to say anything, I nod in acknowledgment of her words. Nigel got banned from the party? Now there’s a first.

‘Now, tell me,’ the Dean asks, ‘Are the rumors true?’

Curious, I look at her, hoping for some hint of what she means.

When I find no clues, I venture, ‘What rumors?’

She smiles at me now, and I wonder what people have been saying behind my back.

‘Oh, I just heard a few interesting things tonight,’ she says to me.

This is becoming frustrating. I look over at Bill who quickly hides the grin on his face. Rick is also doing his best to appear innocent. A glance up at the Sith Lord doesn’t help much, but he tips his head to one side, and I can just imagine the look on his face.

‘What exactly have you three been up to?’ I ask.

‘Nothing,’ Bill answers.

‘The usual,’ Rick admits.

‘Much the same as my officers,’ the Sith Lord states.

‘It wouldn’t have anything to do with those pieces of paper I saw being passed around?’ I ask, curious now.

Dead silence from the three of them and guilty looks on the two faces I can see. Well, they are obviously not going to own up to whatever they have been busy with, so I give up on getting an answer. Tomorrow, I decide, I will do my best to find out then.

‘It’s a good thing,’ I tell them, ‘that the three of you are not really stationed on the same ship. I can just imagine the mischief you would be into all the time.’

‘Then you, my Lady,’ Vader teases, ‘would have a full time job keeping us in line.’

I start laughing. That was just too funny. There is no way I could keep these three mischief makers out of trouble once they get started.

‘Maybe you should send a shuttle back to retrieve these two,’ I slyly suggest. ‘I am sure you would be able to use another Admiral and Captain, my Lord, especially ones you so obviously get along with, and it would give you two new dueling partners to practice against, too.’

The Dean merely appears puzzled by my statement. Rick and Bill, though, are giving one another concerned looks and I know they are wondering if I am being serious or not. Vader chuckles for a moment, making my two friends even more nervous.

‘I will take that under advisement,’ the Sith Lord tells me. ‘Now, since you have recovered from your dizzy spells, shall we go for a walk, my Lady?’

A walk sounds like a good idea, so I ask Rick, ‘Admiral, would you assign a few of the crew to keep an eye on a certain Jedi for the next half hour or so? I am sure he is still lurking about somewhere.’

As soon as the students are dispatched, I slip my hand into the Sith Lord’s and allow myself to be led outside, away from the noise of the party and the other guests. It is a clear and cold night, so I guide us towards the greenhouse which contains the small botanical garden. My master passcard opens the door and I pull Vader inside after me. The heat and humidity are welcome after the chill of the air outside. A quick look around before I shut the door after us reveals that there is no one nearby who might have seen us enter.

‘There shouldn’t be anyone else in here, so we can stay as long as you like,’ I tell him. ‘Nigel doesn’t have a pass which will give him access, as far as I know, that is.’

He makes no reply to me, just wanders leisurely towards the center of the garden, drawing me along with him. On occasion he stops to look at some of the more exotic plants, and I read the identifying labels to him and tell him what little I know of them. There are benches in the open area in the middle of this glass building, and when we reach them, I am firmly guided to sit on one before the Dark Lord joins me. From the tension in his movements, I get the distinct impression that he is warring with himself, that he wants to say something, yet cannot bring himself to do so. I stay silent and let him work through whatever it is that is bothering him. Eventually, he seems to make a decision, relaxes a little, and takes my hand in his.

‘My wife would be allowed to remain with me on my flagship, but our children would not,’ the Sith Lord tells me. ‘I would not leave her on Imperial Center if we had a family, but at Bast castle on Vjun, my private world. The Imperial court is too close on Coruscant, the danger to them would be much too great.’

I blink at him in surprise. Where has this come from? Curious, I remain quiet, and let him continue to talk since he is in the mood to do so.

‘It could be a lonely life for her, on my ship, with only me for company,’ he muses. ‘My position can demand long hours, and I am often away on business and errands which she would be forbidden to accompany me on. There are few female officers she could befriend, and I would not tolerate any over familiarity between her and the rest of the officers and crew.’

He falls silent for a moment. I hear the greenhouse door slam, running feet, and the excited voices of a few students reach us. We are not the only ones who have sought the solitude of this place.

Vader turns to me and quickly asks, ‘Would you be able to handle such a life, my Lady?’

Before I can answer, we are surrounded by a group of biology students dressed in Medieval costumes. Their department had chosen King Arthur as its theme this year. The student who seems to be their ring leader stares at us in surprise.

‘Oh. Sorry, Professor,’ he apologizes, ‘We didn’t know anyone was in here.’

I answer him with a shrug of my shoulders.

The Dark Lord makes no reply, but stands, pulling me to my feet beside him.

‘Shall we walk outside, my Lady?’ he addresses me, ignoring the students around us.

I move to lay my hand on his arm, but he slides his own around my waist instead and guides me to the door. The cool air is a shock after the warmth of the botanical gardens, and by the time we have reached the fountains in the courtyard, I am starting to get cold.

‘Come here before you get chilled,’ the Sith Lord orders, opening his arms to me.

I willing step into his embrace, and he is careful to wrap his cloak around me. He has adjusted the temperature of his armor, I note, and it is warm here next to him.

‘Now, your answer to my question?’ he prompts.

I carefully consider my response. If it was only my heart I needed to listen to, the answer would be an easy one, yet there are other factors I must think of as well. Vader patiently waits for me to speak, does not hurry me. My mind runs through the various possibilities, but, finally, I admit to myself that there is only one thing that really matters in the end.

‘Yes,’ I answer, ‘I think I could manage such a life, having spent so much of my own alone.’

‘And would you go with me, leave here, given the chance?’ Vader presses.

‘You know that’s impossible,’ I tell him, ‘your fighter is not designed to carry two.’

‘Even so, if it could be done, would you?’ he persists in questioning.

I stay silent in his arms, thinking at a million miles an hour. Where is he going with this? Would I want to go with him? Be honest, Maia, I warn myself, you know that this will only lead you to heartbreak. Don’t get your hopes up. You know you can’t go with him, but tell him the truth of it as if you could.

‘Yes,’ I whisper, ‘I would go with you.’

‘Then I have only one other thing to ask you,’ the Dark Lord states.

He does not speak, though, only holds me close, as if waiting for exactly the right time to pose his question.

Finally he tells me, ‘I have spent almost twenty years alone, and never once in that time expected to find someone I would want to share my life with or who would want to share her life with me.’

Silence from him next, and I know he is warring with himself again. Content to stay in his arms, I wait patiently for him to settle his mind and ask this question which has so divided his soul. At last, he relaxes again, and I hold my breath, anticipating what I will hear from him.

Before Vader can speak, the quiet peace of the moment is shattered by Nigel’s voice teasing, ‘So here’s where the two lovebirds have taken themselves off to.’

The Sith Lord freezes in my arms and I know that whatever question he intended to ask me will never be spoken now. I close my eyes and allow my head to fall forward, letting my forehead rest against his chest. Nigel, why, I ask myself, half-grieving, why now of all times? Vader lifts a hand to gently caress my cheek, then abruptly pulls himself from my grasp, and whirls to face my foolhardy colleague.

‘You, Master Jedi, have been warned,’ the Dark Lord coldly states. ‘Since you will not desist in your attempts to provoke me, you leave me no other choice than to do something about it.’

As he speaks, he stalks menacingly towards Nigel, who simply stands his ground with a grin on his face.

Nigel is relying on the party rules to save his hide. I motion to him to go away, to leave, but he just raises an eyebrow at me and refuses to budge. Where are the students or Rick and Bill? They were supposed to keep Nigel away from us and I need their help here. A frantic scan of the area reveals my two friends, running full tilt towards the courtyard from the Student Center. They arrive too late to save the situation and can only watch with me what unfolds.

Vader takes his lightsaber and ignites it. Nigel merely crosses his arms and watches him. He thinks it’s some sort of fancy replica, I think, horrified. Rather than swing it at my colleague, though, the Sith Lord spins about and neatly slices through the railing along the stairs next to the reflecting pond. A second later, the severed metal falls into the water with a resounding splash.

Point made, Vader returns his attention to the ersatz Jedi, who has now realized just what sort of trouble he is in and exactly who it is he is dealing with. My colleague quickly backs away from the angry Dark Lord. Nigel is trapped, I note, with nowhere to go except backwards towards the water.

‘Maia, do something!’ Nigel calls to me.

Rick has reached my side and whispers, ‘Nigel gave us the slip. Can’t you help him somehow?’

‘You will leave my wife out of this, Jedi,’ Vader warns Nigel, ‘and you will address her properly.’

I quietly reply, ‘Not now, Rick. He is in no mood to be reasoned with and it could be dangerous for me to approach him. How would you have felt if your proposal to Bill had been interrupted by Nigel?’

My old friend looks at me with a knowing smile. So, that’s what those three were up to. The Sith Lord must have asked my two friends for some advice on the matter, and judging from the Dean’s comments, everyone knew I was about to be proposed to except me.

Rick next blurts out, ‘Well did you say ‘yes’ or not?’

I shush him up before we draw Vader’s attention to us. ‘He was just about to ask when Nigel interrupted. I had no chance to tell him ‘yes’.’

The Dark Lord stops his approach towards Nigel now, blocking any escape route open to him. I watch Nigel’s eyes flick between me and his captor. Knowing that there is nothing I can do, I shake my head sadly and start to turn away. Vader is furious and there will be no reasoning with him about this, not after Nigel’s behavior in the ballroom tonight.

There is a long quiet moment, with the only sounds the hum of the blade, the water falling in the fountains, and the even regulated breaths of a respirator. The Sith Lord swings his head to look at me, then back at Nigel. A second glance at me, and he throws a hand up and towards the man he has trapped. My mouth drops open as I see my colleague hurled up into the air by an invisible force, only to drop into the reflecting pond directly under the fountains with a very loud splash. Obviously Vader has had more access to the Force than he has been letting on.

While Nigel thrashes about and splutters in the water, the Dark Lord shuts off his lightsaber and returns to my side. Rick and Bill make a tactical retreat out of earshot, but make no move at all to aid Nigel despite his repeated attempts to have them do so.

‘You, my Lady, are a very bad influence on me,’ Vader teases, making sure that Nigel and my friends can hear every word. ‘Any other place and time, I would have killed him on the spot as I said I would earlier.’ More quietly, he adds, ‘Perhaps it would be best if we leave, now. I have drawn far more attention to myself than is perhaps wise.’

‘I think you are right, my Lord,’ I agree with him. Raising my voice, I call to my friends, ‘Rick, Bill, we have to go now.’

My two friends quickly come over to where we are standing, and I find myself given two unexpected hugs. Oddly, the Sith Lord raises no objection to their familiarity with me. Maybe he has decided that the time to be totally formal is done with for the day.

//Make sure you tell him ‘yes’ and remember us when you are gone.// Rick tells me in German, adding in English, ‘Take care of yourself, dear friend.’

‘And don’t worry about Nigel. We are going to lock him in a storage room for a few hours once he has had a good shower and bath, and we haul him out of the water. You will need that time to make your getaway. Then we will let the Dean have him,’ Bill adds in a conspiratorial tone.

‘Now get out of here,’ Rick orders. ‘We’ll cover for you.’

I reach over and grab Vader’s hand. He uses it to bring me to his side, and, ignoring his two temporary officers, he tells me, ‘Very well, my most beloved Lady, my wife who is and will be, we shall go now and return to my flagship.’

My heart skips a beat at his words. Is he still playing within the rules of the party or not? I wonder, given his earlier questions and the one he was just about to ask me. No chance is given to me to find out, though, as he pulls me along at a rapid pace, guiding us unerringly back to the parking lot and our borrowed transportation.

Halfway there, I hear someone running to catch up with us. Turning to see who it is, I find that Rick has come after us and bundled four swords and a few small boxes together in my carrying bag judging from the lumps sticking out of its sides.

Handing it to me he states, ‘The best three of your dueling blades, the Viggiani rapier, and a few other things you might want. Bill and I gathered them up for you earlier. You shouldn’t leave without them.’

A quick peck on my cheek and he is off again, heading back to look after Nigel, no doubt. Too startled to reply, I watch him go, and then allow the Dark Lord to lead me hurriedly onward. Once at the Porsche, though, the Sith Lord leans heavily against it, exhausted. I quickly get the door open and somehow manage to maneuver his large and heavy frame into the seat.

‘What’s wrong,’ I ask, alarmed. ‘Are you ill?’

‘No, my Lady, I just used every bit of the Force I had available to deal with that idiot and have drained myself completely,’ he admits. ‘I will recover with time and rest.’

Since he is too tired to move, I strap him in and lean the seat back.

‘You can rest on the drive back,’ I tell him. ‘There’s not much to see at night anyway.’

By the time I have the car started and off the university campus, Vader is asleep.

The long solitary drive back gives me time to think, to review my situation. Much as I would dearly love to leave with the Sith Lord, I know that this is impossible, regardless of what he asked me tonight and what I want to do. Better to put the idea completely out of my mind. My place is here, on this world, and the last four days will become a happy memory to cherish for the rest of my life, no more, no less.

The future here, tomorrow, is where my concern should lie. I am going to be in a great deal of trouble, I soon realize. Sam’s research team is going to very quickly discover that my meteorite story was nothing but that, and I can just imagine how my uncle is going to react. He will never trust me again, a high price to pay, but one I will, happily, if it secures Vader’s safe escape.

My colleagues? That stunt the Dark Lord pulled on Nigel was witnessed by more than just Rick and Bill, no doubt, and I am going to be subjected to some intense and uncomfortable questions about just who was with me this night. Somehow I don’t think I am going to be believed even if I tell the truth about it and Rick and Bill back up my story.

Then there is the break-in and theft from Nigel’s lab. Perhaps I could pay for that one with my position and career, if Nigel really decides to pursue the issue, which he no doubt will given how thoroughly he has been humiliated tonight. That’s tomorrow, this is today, I remind myself. No point in brooding away the last few precious minutes I will have with the man I love and will shortly lose.

When I reach the observatory’s security gates, the Sith Lord stirs. He is completely awake when I pull up beside his fighter and seems to have fully recovered from his encounter with Nigel. Once we are out of the car, he removes and wraps his cloak around me to ward off the cold, and quickly attaches the pressurized gas cylinder to his fighter’s drive system. After sealing up the access panels and removing the tarps camouflaging his ship, Vader helps me to climb up the scaffold, then sets the computer to run the preflight checks. All is fine, and he starts the TIE’s repulsors and engines.

We stand beside his TIE now, waiting for the final readings to come back from its computer. He will be gone soon, and I can’t help feeling a deep sense of loss. The Sith Lord does not belong here on my world, nor can I go with him to his.

I turn away from him, realizing that if I don’t get myself under control, he will know far more about what I am feeling than I want him to. Why are goodbyes always so hard? And this one is worse, knowing that I will never see him again, never have any way to ever contact him. I know now what it is to have my heart broken.

The computer sounds several beeps and whistles.

‘Is everything working as it should?’ I ask.

‘Yes,’ is his terse response.

‘Then you should go soon. I will do my best to cover for you, perhaps I can even slow the pursuit a bit.’ I am trying to delay the inevitable with small talk.

‘Maìá,’ he speaks my name with that peculiar accent, then hesitates. ‘I have never thanked you for all that you have done for me,’ he finally tells me. ‘In another place, in the Empire, there would be ways I could reward you for your help. So, tell me, what would you want if I could give it to you?’

What would I want? I stiffen in surprise. Where did this come from? Be honest, Maia, what would you ask him for. It’s a simple question, and I know what my answer would be, but I don’t want to tell him. Definitely too embarrassing and I do not feel like being laughed at. Besides, he might be offended by it.

‘You don’t want to tell me, do you,’ he notes, ‘your body language gives you away.’

‘That obvious, is it?’ I reply.

‘Just tell me what you would want,’ he continues to press, and I know he will insist on an answer from me.

I steel myself for his response, and quietly admit, ‘You. I would only want you.’

Before I can say any more, I am pulled around and into his arms. I bury my face in his robes and cling to him, promising myself that I won’t let the tears out which are threatening to flow. This is hard, so very hard. Should I tell him how I really feel? There will be no other chances now. Somehow I gather up my courage and speak.

‘My Lord, I love you. I always have and always will.’

He turns my face to where he can see it and I can sense his eyes on me, as he tries to look into my heart, my soul. What does he think of what I have just confessed? Is he amused or appalled, or does he truly feel something in return? I have no way of knowing. The only sounds are his regulated breathing and the engines on his ship. When I can bear it no longer I attempt to pull away, but there is no escape. The arm he has behind my back holds me tight to his chest while his other hand slaps something against my neck. There is a sting and a burning sensation along my throat. What has he done to me? My legs give way and I am caught in his arms. Then I fall endlessly into blackness.

***

I catch her as she falls, this fiercely stubborn and fearless woman who has so freely offered of herself, she who dares to love me, a Sith Lord. Love, an emotion forbidden to me, yet felt for her all the same. Fool! a voice in my mind accuses, fool to feel, fool to love, fool to allow this weakness, this flaw. I ignore it. My decision has been made. I will not reconsider.

She is mine,
mine by word, bound to me as is proper with oath, with pledge, with vow;
mine by soul, as she is assuredly the other half of my own;
mine by heart, for she truly loves me and I, her;
mine by body, for I have held her in my arms and taken her for my own.

Every test I set her, she has passed; she is worthy to be mine, is mine, and mine alone.

I ease her to the surface of the platform. There are things I must retrieve before I go, and little time to do it in. My cloak will keep her warm while I run this errand and my prize must not be harmed.

I hasten to her quarters. There is so little I can take from here. Her picture book - yes! And the two folders with her music disks, the small portable device for playing them, her favorite collection of poetry left out on the table. What else? I look about the room and memories of a life being left behind haunt me. I had less as a child than what I now hold in my hands to remember mine by. It will have to be enough, I decide.

I return to my fighter, remove the bag with her swords from the car, stow the treasures I have taken for her in my ship. She does not stir when I lift her again, so strong is the hold of the drug I have used. A moment of careful maneuvering and we are inside, her head resting on my shoulder as I cradle her in my arms. Awkward, this is going to be awkward. No matter. I touch the controls, launch from the ground, and we are airborne.

She was concerned about pursuit. There is none of any significance, of course, as I easily evade their simple attempts to stop me. The stars beckon and I am free of this world, free to leave, free to return, yet I hesitate. Her offer of sanctuary replays once again in my mind; a life free of bondage, free of darkness; the chance to start anew with her at my side. But the call of the Force is too strong. I activate the nav-computer, the hyperdrive, and we are gone.

***

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