Three hours into the gala, Lux was beyond glad he'd worn his favorite pairs of boots. He'd spent so long on the dance floor already that his feet were growing sore; he couldn't imagine the agony he'd be feeling right now had he gone with shoes so formal he hadn't worn them enough to break them in.

He also suspected he was a little drunk, which wasn't helping matters. Not enough to impair him all that much, thankfully – or at least not enough to turn making the same small talk over and over again into a real problem – but he was definitely laughing easier, he had to use the facilities something fierce, and the flush on his cheeks refused to give him a moment's peace.

He cursed his pale skin in every language he knew as his wrist comm spat out the next name on his dance card. As if on cue, a light touch traced from his shoulder down his arm, and his partner for the impending waltz sashayed around to face him.

The face was right, and the smile definitely struck the right balance between cold and conniving, but the body was not. Lux started, his eyes flying to the place he'd only ever seen obscured by a scarf. Lady Noronessa had... lekku?

The change was remarkable. Without her scarf, she went from a Human or near-Human burn victim to visibly half-Twi'lek in the blink of an eye. The pink splotches decorating her face and neck and hands weren't scars or some sort of off-color vitiligo; they were the mark of a heritage she'd never seen fit to show him.

Lux stared at her blankly for half a moment before memory flooded over him, awareness born along the waves like sediment that quickly settled in the riverbed. The red Twi'lek man Lux had overheard Noronessa speaking with in the mining tunnels a month past must be her father. But what had she meant, when she'd said her father put her at risk of being disinherited? Lux hadn't caught enough of their conversation to draw any conclusions, and he'd been forced to file the tidbit away for when next he saw them together – if he ever did.

Gods above, he really did have too many things on his plate, didn't he? He was starting to lose track of things that had the potential to become important.

"Does my appearance displease you, my Lord?"

Realizing he'd been quiet too long, Lux scraped up a charming smile and tried to will himself back to sobriety. "Hardly. You look ravishing, Lady Noronessa."

"Not so ravishing you gawp at me for the whole dance, I hope!" She gave an overly bright, tinkling laugh – a politician's laugh – as she tossed one lek over her shoulder. "But I will permit slurred words. We have much to discuss, and the less you enunciate, the better. There may be lip readers and cams watching us."

"My father wouldn't allow cams inside," Lux said as they took their places. "I doubt certain nobles would want their... activities here tonight being made public."

He glanced meaningfully at the dark corners of the Great Hall where he knew a number of pleasure slaves were waiting, praying all the while that Alynna wasn't among them; he hadn't had a single moment to himself to check. Noronessa snorted, but he could tell her ire wasn't directed at his rushed attempt at delicacy. " 'F anyone were to commission cam operators to watch you, believe me, it'd be him."

"What?"

The music started up, and Noronessa flashed him a brilliant smile. "Slur your words 'n stick close to me," she hissed through her teeth, and then she was way, way too far into Lux's personal space. No one would think twice if they saw him cozying up to her – sixteen was the traditional start of adulthood on Onderon, which meant she was technically of legal marrying age. Still, it was all he could do not to push her to arm's length. He settled for putting the lightest pressure possible on her waist.

"Now," she murmured, her lips barely moving, as they swept into the first ornate spin of this particular waltz, "let's talk business. The music'll cover the sound of what we say; it's just a matter 'f keeping our words off our faces."

"What've we to talk about?" he snapped, but he followed her example. "Are you after my hand too? Father wants me married, but I'm not making decisions yet."

"Nothing so crass – 't least, not entirely." Noronessa's lips pressed into a stern line. "I needed to talk to you without my guards 'n without the girl you call Alynna listening in. You're poised to decide the future 'f the galaxy, but the others don't understand the desired outcome'll never happen if you're sent in blind."

With only a few words, she'd had sent Lux's head spinning again – and just when he was starting to sober up, too. He took a calming breath as they parted to allow another couple to cross between them, but he wasn't feeling any less rattled when he and Noronessa formed up again to replicate the move as a single unit.

"What the hell d'you mean, if I'm sent in blind?" he growled, defaulting to anger when he couldn't settle on anything else. "Speak plainly, damn it!"

"Y'already know my family 'n your father have a joint endeavor in the works. Something involving falsified seals 'n valuable mining equipment that mysteriously goes missing after surprise inspections."

Lux's jaw fell open, but he said nothing. He couldn't. He knew there had to be very few other suspects with the clearance to copy the contents of Noronessa's datapad, but fessing up to it might cause problems between their two Houses if word got back to her mother – which it probably would.

Noronessa gave a small smile. "I know what you did, my Lord. For all your poise 'n morality, you're very nosy."

"I was instructed by my father to arbitrate a dispute between your family 'n Etrik Bonaga's – one that mysteriously resolved itself with a lot of loose strings still untied," Lux said, sidestepping her push for confirmation as gracefully as he could. "All I've done since is tried to find the truth."

"Then turn your attention away from the fronts people are putting up for your benefit 'n back to that information you stole," she shot back urgently. "My files weren't programmed with any failsafes that can purge their contents remotely – something my mother made sure to remedy on the devices 'f every agent sent into the field after me. You won't get another chance like this."

"I've run into nothing but dead ends thus far with this investigation." In this, at least, Lady Noronessa couldn't talk circles around him.

Noronessa smiled dangerously. All right, maybe she could. "Come now, you're a good deal smarter than our parents give you credit for. You should've noticed by now that things aren't lining up."

This was the point of impasse if he kept denying any part in the theft. He could pretend he had no idea what Noronessa was talking about, but then she might go back on her claim that he was smarter than most believed and tell him nothing more. If he suggested he had seen something unusual, he'd be gambling that she was too invested in sharing this information to rat him out to either of their families.

Lux decided to gamble. "Information I'm sure I read's no longer in those files. It hasn't been for weeks." He frowned, only to switch it to a beaming smile when another couple glided closer, eyeing them suspiciously. "But you said no one's able to wipe the files remotely."

"Then it's a good thing my family has someone reporting on your every move. I did warn you that I knew 'bout everything that went on at the villa."

She had, and Lux had been too stupid to catch it until now. With the way she'd always spoken about all the time he'd been spending with Alynna in the safety of the villa's ray shield, Lux had been certain she had a plant in the villa's staff, or among the guards – the recently promoted Captain Felarra, he'd assumed.

But no, that didn't work. Even with her connection to his father's head of staff, Mareto Felarra was too new to be trusted completely. Because of that, Lux had kept her at a distance. The Noreino guard captain wouldn't have gotten close enough to give Noronessa the kind of information she was boasting about now.

He'd assumed a lot of things in the last month. Too many. "Who–"

Noronessa shot him a warning look, and Lux remembered the dance floor he was still in the middle of just in time to make the series of sweeping steps away from her – though he had to hold in a wince when his already sore feet complained at the treatment. He and Noronessa formed a circle of interlinked hands with another couple (this dance was meant to symbolize the push and pull of the four moons of Onderon, if he wasn't mistaken) taking slow, determined steps inward in time with the downbeats of each bar.

The person across from him, a man near to his age with blond hair and skin as pale as frost, glanced at Lux suggestively before looking down, directing his attention to the alarmingly low waistline of his pants. Lux didn't recognize him, but he wasn't in any hurry to learn his name. Some people here tonight were trying way too hard to make an impression on him, and he couldn't say it was a turn-on.

It was almost a relief to be paired up with Lady Noronessa again – she was the lesser of two evils, after a fashion, and the evil that had the potential to be useful to him. He quickly put the last few minutes out of his mind. The dance would be over soon, and he had to focus before he ran out of time to question her.

"So," he whispered thickly, remembering to slur at the last moment, "who's the plant?" A possibility struck him, the one person who had complete, unsupervised access to all his datapads and consoles, and something cold slithered beneath his ribs to grip his heart. "Surely it couldn't be–"

"Ineas Dakharen is in your father's pocket, 'n your father's in my family's; he owes them for everything they've done to keep him in power. 'f whatever device you used to store the stolen information backs up to a secondary system neither father nor manservant is aware of, you may stand a chance."

Betrayed again. You're always betrayed in the end. Dakharen is just another friend lost to this mad power struggle, a voice whispered at the back of his mind. Lux tried to fend it off, soothing it away with the knowledge that Noronessa wouldn't say such a thing without some kind of nefarious purpose. But his legs were going weak, and he could feel his heart rate skyrocketing–

Padmé had gotten his mother killed. The Confederacy had betrayed him. Saw had abandoned him to the fallout when they'd been practically all each other had left. His father had told Lux outright that he was using him for his own gain, and didn't care what means he had to resort to so Lux fell in line. Now Dakharen was...

"Why are you telling me all this?" he croaked. "Are you trying to drive a wrench into my House? Is that it? Dakharen served my mother faithfully for years before she married my father. He's served me just as well."

"Slur, my Lord." Noronessa's frigid anger was gone in a heartbeat, replaced with a charming smile that was for everyone's benefit but his. "I told you marriage wasn't all I wished to discuss, not that I didn't want to discuss it 't all. Everything I've said tonight's insurance that I'm high on the list 'f people you consider." She batted her lashes at him. "You're better-looking than most 'f the other candidates who've shown interest in me – not to mention a fair verbal sparring partner."

Lux pursed his lips in distaste, but he didn't buy her reasoning. "And the fact that my father's the Lord Imperator and holds as much sway in government as he does means... nothing to you."

"I'm a Taevarion. We back monarchs, we don't become them." She paused as if putting extra care into choosing her next words, but from the cant of her head Lux guessed she was really listening for the coda of the piece. An especially powerful, mounting crescendo gave him the impression it was close. "But, of course, becoming the wife of the next Lord Imperator's an acceptable substitute."

Lux's stomach lurched. He instinctively shrunk in on himself, even the very faint pressure he was putting on her waist and the palm of her hand slackening. Gods, he tried so hard to remember his mother's lessons about not judging people for doing what was best for them, but he hated Noronessa. How could he ever like – or at least empathize – with someone who took him apart piece by piece solely so she could be the one to put him back together again?

And worse than that, Lux knew just what the cost of the information she'd given him was. Being 'considered' for his choice of spouse wasn't good enough for her. If his plan to free Alynna failed and his father retained the ability to threaten her continued safety, he'd have to marry this traitorous snake who presented herself as his only ally then stuck a knife in his gut.

He ought to tell her to kriff off, just for the hell of it. One last hurrah before he accepted the almost-inevitable. Lux couldn't go down kicking and screaming, but even with the walls closing in, he wasn't quite powerless yet. He opened his mouth to say as much, rallying his strength before it deserted him again. But before he could get a word in edgewise, the music swelled, launching into the coda.

"Damn," Noronessa hissed. "I thought we'd have more time. The datapad files won't tell you everything you need to know, but anyone who can hack all traces 'f their identity from a code cylinder can find secret information elsewhere, too. Find everything you can on Project Archetype. This may be the most important thing you ever do." Her eyes flashed murder at him through a blinding grin. "And stop looking like a cornered animal; you'll draw attention. Laugh at something I said."

Even halfway to an emotional breakdown and a good deal more than halfway to starting a yelling match, Lux had enough training to catch and respond to a cue when he heard one. He laughed brightly as the dance reached its conclusion in a high trill of strings and flutes, allowing the tremble he'd been fighting for the last few minutes to leach out through shaking shoulders.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it, my Lord?" Noronessa asked, raising a brow. "Now, I can tell you're getting ready to run, and I've a feeling I know who to. You probably won't be ready to listen now, but you may remember this it's too late. You can't trust her. She isn't who she says she is. You may think I'm going to use you, but it's nothing like what that Togruta'll do to you 'f you don't watch yourself."

That was the last straw. The impulse to start that yelling match won out, and all that hoarded power burst into flames in Lux's gut. Noronessa accused his most trusted advisor, and now she had the gall to try to turn him against Alynna?

He couldn't take any more of this, even if leaving proved Noronessa right. Lux bowed cordially to her, hiding everything he was feeling behind his best courtier's smile, but the second she returned the gesture, eyes downturned, he fled. He was gone before she straightened up again, weaving between knots of people and offering them falsely apologetic smiles when they tried to fish for compliments or remind him of dances they'd been promised.

If he wanted – needed – a moment alone, it was clear to him now he'd have to steal it for himself and use it to find Alynna. All that mattered was that he got away from the beguilers and manipulators and sycophants – Dakharen included, the same vile voice as before added darkly. The past was chasing after him, nipping at his heels, and he had to reach a safe harbor before it got close enough to draw blood.

Alynna. He had to find Alynna. Noronessa and all her little seeds of doubt could go to hell for all he cared. Alynna was the only safe harbor he had left, and he wouldn't let Noronessa take that away from him, too. He couldn't.

Three hours after she first stepped into the Great Hall, Ahsoka was almost convinced she'd been imagining things with Lady Noronessa.

She'd moved several times to keep from being pinned down, rising coolly from whatever wall or sculpture she was slouched against whenever the nearest nobles' eyes started lingering on her too long. More than once she'd been in plain sight of the guards as she slipped from one hiding place to the next, and none of them had moved to intercept. Even the careful dips she made into the currents of the Force streaming around her came back unpolluted by signs of trouble.

That only left watching and waiting and sipping at her glass of champagne. So far, she hadn't spotted a single opening to speak with Lux, nor had she overheard anything beyond a whole lot of empty small talk. Frankly, she was getting bored.

Lux glided past a gap in the crowd shrouding the dance floor, arm in arm with Lady Noronessa, and even from this distance Ahsoka could tell the pair was deep in conversation. She pursed her lips when she spotted the tension in his body, the way the only smiles he was able to scrape up were false ones. Was this what Noronessa was planning, if she'd somehow recognized Ahsoka – ratting her out to Lux? Something about the speckled peach-pink lekku she must've been keeping hidden under her scarves seemed strangely familiar.

Ahsoka shook the thought away. If it came to that, it was easier to do damage control on one person than it was on House Noreino's entire militia. Lux didn't trust Noronessa much in the first place; if she kept her cool, Ahsoka was sure she'd find a way to spin whatever lies or truths Noronessa whispered to Lux against her.

But that meant stooping to Noronessa's level when Ahsoka had already done so much to hurt him. Lux's mother was dead because of her inaction, and they'd only met because of a mind trick. He might even still be under its influence even now.

Ahsoka sighed, pressing a palm to her face. Why was she still here? Why was she still bothering with this? She'd been granted rare proximity to power – the kind that could mean answers about Anakin's fate, and the role of the mysterious Lord Vader in the auction house investigation – but she hadn't used it. The only thing keeping her away from the remnants of the Republic she'd sworn to protect, away from the people in the border villages she'd promised Barriss she'd help, was Lux.

Because you still have to decide if he's as honorable as he seems – for your sake and the Rebellion's, a voice achingly reminiscent of Anakin's whispered in her mind.

It was precious little in exchange for risking discovery every day. Even when Lux turned those beautiful grey-green eyes on her and stared in worshipful silence. Like she was his salvation.

Well, it could be worse. He's not half bad, all things considering. She could just picture Anakin's cocked brow, his crossed arms, the gentle slant of his body as he shifted his weight onto one hip. For all the things she'd learned from him over the years, that was one mannerism she was sure he'd picked up from her. Sure, he's not good enough to deserve you, but he's not bad, either.

Ahsoka resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, you think so?" she murmured over the lip of her champagne flute. The deep green liquid had long since gone flat and warm, but the sweet taste and sharp bite as it went down her throat made up for it. "And since when do you get a say in who I spend time with?"

Since forever, obviously, but I digress.

Stars. The voices in her head were talking back now? Ahsoka held her drink away from her face, frowning at it. She'd been nursing this glass the whole night, an old tactic of Anakin's to give the appearance of partaking while keeping his senses alert. To his knowledge it worked on everything but Weequay ale. She didn't feel particularly drunk, but apparently she'd picked a stronger brew than she thought.

Lux swept through her line of sight again, all supple limbs (he was a dirty liar for saying he wasn't graceful) and pretty smiles and flowing fabric. A fresh burst of envy thundered through her when they spun and Ahsoka caught the snakelike smile on Noronessa's face.

Ahsoka's fist tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, the dips and curves of the ornately worked glass digging into her palm. This was all wrong. She should be in Noronessa's place. She should be the one savoring Lux's subtle magic...

... because if Lux was by her side, it would mean he was safely away from that viper. That was it. Of course. Ahsoka didn't even like dancing.

Lux laughed breathlessly as the music rose and finally tapered off. He wasn't facing her anymore, but she could just see his bright eyes and brighter smile, feel the warmth of his palms on her waist and hand. He'd be breathing heavily by now for certain, flushed with the exertion of dancing as long as he had been, and– stars, she could practically smell the sweat on him, twining into the sweet herbs and citrus.

Ahsoka cursed. What was it with her and the way he smelled? Her sharp Togruta nose was a defense mechanism meant for a life on the savanna. It helped the tribe sniff out sickness in its weakest members, find prey, catch onto akul and other predators before they could catch them, and recognize friends and family from potentially dangerous outsiders.

It helped her recognize people she was safe with, that she could trust. Ahsoka blinked. She didn't know why she hadn't realized it before. Catching a hint Anakin or Obi-Wan or Rex's unique scents from afar had always calmed her, driving a sense of peace and security through her whole body that was a godsend after a battle.

As for the way she'd started salivating when she thought about Lux, well, he was attractive. So what? She could snap herself out of it if she cared to. Some fresh air – or as fresh as the muggy air got in Kyzeron – would help clear her head.

Ahsoka left her glass on a server's tray and headed for the tall double doors out onto a nearby veranda half-shrouded by the curtains hanging from the ceiling. Thankfully it was unoccupied, but as she threw open the doors and walked out, the closed-in air of the Great Hall rushing to fill the new space brought with it–

Oh, there it was again, mixed in with smoke from the censers: citrus and herbs and a hint of sweat.

Ahsoka clapped a hand over her nose and mouth and dropped heavily onto a squat marble bench. There was a flower bed just behind her, but even burying her face in one of the full white blooms did nothing to ease her discomfort. That damned smell had wormed its way into her head, firing neurons whose purpose she barely understood and sending her hormones into overdrive.

This wasn't normal. Her species could break toxins down into less harmful compounds, evolutionary hangers-on to combat the venom-laced claws and quills of predators. But not all intoxicants were intrusive enough to trigger her biological defences; alcohol certainly wasn't. Was this a warning she'd ignored? She'd broken her own rule tonight in grabbing a ready-made glass of champagne.

Fear lanced her. Shakily, Ahsoka drew on the Force to consciously purge her body of anything harmful. She worked in detoxifying waves from her montrals down, praying all the while no Elites were near enough to catch on.

Her head felt a tiny bit clearer when she was done, but that could've been her imagination. When a person was searching for minute changes in their involuntary systems, sometimes the mind played tricks and fed itself its own placebo.

And... nothing. The fierce, tight ache just below the pit of her stomach didn't disappear or even abate – if anything, focusing on it only made it flame higher.

This feeling wasn't the champagne. It was her. Lux didn't just make her feel safe. She wasn't just attracted to him. Her body wanted him as a lover, a mate, even if it was months too early for a true fertile period. It was the answer the Jedi in her didn't want to hear, and the one the person she'd become since kept circling back to.

The night was unexpectedly cool and dry; a stubborn breeze had survived the long journey from the Arrowhead Mountains uncontested to refresh the Kyzeron valley. Her ballgown with its open abdomen and gauzy skirt was no protection at all, and Togruta had no real love of the cold. Despite that, Ahsoka was sweating.

Footsteps clattered unsteadily to a halt as someone nearly overshot the veranda before catching themself just in time – Lux. She could smell him even with her nose pressed against the flower's luminous velvet petals. Ahsoka groaned.

He padded over and thumped down on the bench beside her, sighing tiredly. For a long moment, he said nothing, but he didn't need to for Ahsoka to know he was upset. Willing herself to stay calm, Ahsoka offered him an empathetic smile.

"I lied when I said coming here tonight was the last favor I'd ever ask of you." Lux hung his head. "I could really, really use a shoulder to cry on."

Ahsoka's heart melted. Bracing herself against the sturdy frame around the flower bed, she opened her arms for him. He snuggled down against her chest without another word, his face tucked between her shoulder and lek. The soft quiver of his lashes and the steady puffs of his breathing tickled a little, but she didn't move.

He didn't cry. His eyes were closed, and she couldn't see his expression, but to what few senses she'd kept open to the Force, he felt... blank. Emptied. The fight had gone out of him, leaving only a deep, boneless exhaustion in its place.

But he'd come to Ahsoka for comfort, which meant that whatever Noronessa had told him, it hadn't been about her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, bringing a hesitant hand up to stroke his hair. It was softer than a bird's feathers, and a few of the shorter, freshly trimmed locks at the nape of his neck were curling with sweat.

"I just have so much I need to do, so many things that need my attention. So many people I'm trying to keep happy." He managed a laugh, but it fell flat halfway through. "Usually I'm good under pressure, but it's getting overwhelming."

Ahsoka hugged him tighter, ignoring his scent as blatantly as she could, but she perked up when the music started up again. "Hang on, is that a storm dance?"

Lux lifted his head. He listened quietly for a moment, pursing his lips, before he nodded. "Hey, it is. I met with some members of an Alderaanian delegation tonight who were stranded on Onderon with the lockdown." He grimaced. "Father must be trying to get back in their good graces before they leave the system."

"That doesn't surprise me. Alderaan has a lot of influence further Core-ward."

Lux pushed out of her arms and jumped to his feet, jarringly energetic for a man who'd just been lying limp against her shoulder. He extended a hand to her with a bright smile. "May I, Alynna?"

"What?"

"I asked you to save a dance for me at the gala a few days ago when you were my practice partner, don't you remember?"

His smile cracked a little at the edges, and Ahsoka realized in a flash that he was just barely holding himself together. Keeping her body language reassuring and open, she let him pull her to her feet. "I'll be honest, I thought you were joking."

"Is that a no?"

She put a hand on his waist in answer.

The music began in earnest, and they spun and swirled with it, steps as airy and purposeful as brewing thunderclouds. Slowly but surely, his sunshine began to emerge again until it was brighter and hotter than ever before. He was perfectly calm and burning up all at once, and his gaze was a searing searchlight exploring every bit of her skin her dress revealed. Ahsoka shut her eyes and basked in it.

"I thought you'd be angry about how little this covers," she murmured. "You really chewed out the tailor after the first couple of designs he proposed for me."

Lux shrugged, a subtle ripple of muscles. Ahsoka watched it like a hawk. "I've decided to appreciate beauty when I see it, tonight. That beauty happens to be more scantily clothed than usual, and while I think I did admirably well when we were training, right now I'm having a lot of trouble looking away."

Something darker and richer slipped out from beneath the soap and cologne, clouding the space between them. Desire. Ahsoka hissed in a breath and did her best to claw her way back to herself. This was dangerous. "I could punch you for that."

"You could, but you know me. Look at me, Alynna. Am I so bad?"

It took conscious effort to keep from raking her eyes down his body. "You know looks have nothing to do with it."

"What does, then? My character?"

It was an out, a way to test him as Ludda had suggested before she couldn't tear herself away anymore. "Precisely," she said sharply, breaking the rhythm they'd fallen into. It was starting to feel uncomfortably like flirting.

Thrown, Lux managed only a quiet "Ah," before falling silent again – a sound that conveyed that he'd heard her, not that he understood what she meant.

Well, diplomacy was his world, not hers. She wasn't trained to step lightly, and she could make it up to him later, if everything went well.

A sudden jumble of want in the pit of her stomach made her tense. Altogether too-vivid images washed over her of enmeshed limbs and a soft, strong Human body beneath her, relishing the same glorious heat setting her body alight. Pulling him against the wall was a more tempting idea with every second that passed.

She took a breath and banished the thought. It snapped right back, insistent. The veranda they stood upon and the moment in time they inhabited were hazed over with a gossamer sheen of limitless potential. Right now, she could do anything.

Perhaps this could work. Anakin had married, and he hadn't fallen. Obi-Wan had been so in love he'd nearly left the Jedi Order. Why couldn't she have that, too?

Lux was still waiting for an explanation. In a moment Ahsoka had one for him. "You've been so good to me. Better than any other free person since I was taken by the Empire. But this won't be right until I'm free on paper, and free of this." She touched her chest meaningfully. "As long as I have a tracker in my spine that'll electrocute me if I get too far away from you, I don't have options."

Lux opened his mouth to speak, but, thinking of another roadblock, she held up a hand. "And even then, I'll have other obligations waiting for me, so I can make you no promises." Ahsoka wasn't worthy of all the faith Senator Organa had in her, but it was better to remember her duty late than never. "All I know is this has to be my choice – fully my choice, not something you can bow out of later."

Lux smiled softly. "My father keeps the paperwork under lock and key, but I've been trying to figure out how to get it from him since we got back to the city."

Ahsoka gaped at him. "You have?"

"I'm in way too deep with you, and I am so, so tired of fighting it, especially after tonight. I need you, Alynna. You're worth more to me than you could ever know. I'd pour riches at your feet if I knew you had my back: jewels, silks, ships..."

"I only want freedom," Ahsoka said, gentle but stern. At some point they must have stopped dancing, but she couldn't remember coming to a halt. She couldn't even hear the music anymore. The only thing Ahsoka knew was that this nexus, this path, was the one she had to walk. It would be messy, and there was still so much she needed to tell him, but the sheer rightness of it was all the proof she needed.

"You'll have it. I want to make sure I do it this right."

"I know you will, Lux. You keep your promises."

"Do I? I broke one just this evening, Alynna." Genuine fear flickered in his eyes as he took her hands. "I'm trying so hard, but everything gets thrown upside down with you. I don't know what I'm doing, and I'm terrified I'll let you down."

"Asking for a shoulder to cry on doesn't count. That's not a favor, that's just what you do when you care about someone." She put her arms around him, and he sighed in relief, his hands pressing flat against her back. When she leaned into it, he curled so close to her his lips were a hairsbreadth from brushing her temple.

Then his hands shifted, edging down her back before he thought better of it. But his fingers kept descending over and over again until his tug of war between holding out and giving in echoed in the Force.

Ahsoka knew there were conversations people had to have at the start of a relationship – discussions about wants and needs and how lax the boundaries could be between them. But those could wait for now. Instead, she grabbed two fistfuls of Lux's tunic and dragged him down to her.

His lips were soft and sweet, even crushed to hers hard enough to bruise.

Lux took the lead, tilting her face further right and higher up for a hard, searching kiss that left her breathless and flushed. Someone made a hungry sound when it slowed, and then they were pulling each other close again for more.

This was no lazy exploration with long moments spent learning the shapes of one another's mouth and jaw. This was a fight, a race to conquer one another – pinpoint the swiftest path to victory and pleasure without a backward glance. It was much as their forced first kiss in the clearing by the Inland Sea had been. Ahsoka was starting to think maybe that part of it hadn't been forced.

It took them a long moment to realize neither was going anywhere, and with that, they fell into a slower, more experimental rhythm – the time for taking care, for leaning what the other liked. She caught his lower lip between her teeth, and when he gave a low hum of approval, she did it again, harder. She felt a flick of his tongue at the seam of her lips as she and Lux came together again, soft and inquisitive, and she wasn't ashamed of how quickly she yanked him flat up against her.

The sudden closeness and tantalizing hint of friction at their hips made them gasp. Lux's outfit was fetchingly tailored, but it covered enough to make her wish they were somewhere she could start peeling away layers and level the playing field.

But this was here, and the torso Ahsoka had only glimpsed in slivers before was tragically clothed, so she took advantage of another thing still available to her. If he wanted a deeper kiss, he'd have it. She swept her tongue between his teeth before he could close entirely to match her kiss, and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure. He answered the tease with full access, jaw slack and moaning luridly.

Ahsoka grinned against him. They were both back in good shape from all the hours they'd clocked sparring, and she had the endurance to keep him moaning like that for hours. How much she wanted to try surprised her.

Suddenly his hand found a way out of their tangle of limbs to the sensitive nerve endings beneath her left lek, and every scheme and hope disappeared into the warmth of his palm and the white-hot haze of need between her legs.

She must've given some sign of it; barely a second passed before he ran his fingers over the underside, searching clumsily for the places she liked best. Then she was much too caught up in the tiny blossoms of pleasure in her lek and the way he'd started sucking on her tongue to care she was keening desperately into his mouth.

But it still wasn't enough. Properly touching lekku was a complicated thing to master... however, Humans and Togruta had enough similarities elsewhere to make other avenues possible.

Her dress was slit almost to her waist on each side, and his hand was so close one wrong (right) tilt of her hips would bring it exactly where she wanted it. Even if she pushed him down and ordered him to use his mouth, he'd go eagerly.

She'd nearly worked up the courage to ask when a very loud, unmusical trill rang next her lek, close enough to hurt. She winced, and Lux sprang away. She smiled. It was touching that even dazed and wrapped up in the pleasure of the kiss, he'd been so hyperaware of her own he reacted the second she showed discomfort.

"What–" His wrist comm was flashing, and when it trilled again, he cursed with more color than she'd ever heard from him.

She couldn't help it – she snickered. Lux watched her curiously for a moment before joining, a cautious smile growing when she put her arms around him again. But it faded when he checked the message and the caller ID.

"What is it?" she asked.

"My father," he said crisply, "demands to know why I've stood two dance partners up and I'm about to do the same for another. I'd tell him I have a very good reason for ditching, but I suspect he'll slap me if I seem anything but apologetic."

Ahsoka withdrew, tucking her arms behind her back even as she was itching to pull him closer again. "You should go, then."

"I really don't want to."

"But you should."

"Yes, yes, I should. And I will – but only to keep him from figuring out who I disappeared to." He sighed, but he didn't look too beat up about it. "I'll be back in our rooms in a few hours, if you'd like to head there now – but no pressure to wait up."

"You sure you don't need me here? As... moral support?"

"Are you kidding?" Lux raked his fingers through his hair, laughing. "I could ride this high for weeks. I– kriff, I can't even put it into words. Besides, what's that you once told me? 'Just because you keep weird hours doesn't mean I need to, Lux.' "

Ahsoka crossed her arms and cocked her hip. "Still recycling my lines, I see."

"Well, if someone else came up with such a perfect way of saying it, why paraphrase?" He tilted her face up and kissed her sweetly, and his smile tasted of sunshine and summer against her mouth. "I'll see you soon."

"See you," she murmured.

One last glittering grin, one last kiss brushed to her knuckles, and then he was gone. Ahsoka watched him go, caught between elation and apprehension. She knew she was getting in way over her head, but stars, this was the first time she'd felt wholly, genuinely happy since Felucia – like no trauma past or dangers present could touch her. And that had to count for something.

Ahsoka's involvement in the festivities has come to an explosive conclusion. But with all the obligations she's decided to devote herself to and the enemies that could still be lying in wait, is getting involved with Lux – as amazing as the new romance feels – the right decision? What kind of double game is Lady Noronessa playing, sharing very perceptive theories with Darth Vader one day and warning Lux about Project Archetype the next? Does she really know who Ahsoka is, or does she have another reason entirely for suspecting Ahsoka? Only time will tell...

This is, to date, the longest chapter in the entire fic: fourteen pages, and a whopping 6.8K words. YOURE WELCOME GUYS, I HOPE IT MAKES UP FOR THE SLOWED UPDATES SCHEDULE

Because yes, as I mentioned last week, this chapter is the last one on the weekly updates schedule. To avoid taking another hiatus, I'm slowing to updates every two weeks: unless I need to delay a day for whatever realspace reason, the next three chapters will come June 2nd, 16th, and 30th!

Gods above, I must've rewritten the veranda segment of this chapter five times at LEAST, in varying points of the creation of this story – for context, the note in my phone with all the different versions is ten months old today. It actually predates the publishing of the first chapters of this new, updated version of the story! Anyway, this goes to say that I have a complicated relationship with writing this kind of material. Often I can't make it feel REAL, and if it doesn't feel real, I'm not satisfied. I go back to the drawing board, and the cycle begins again. So I can't promise how many more voracious makeouts you guys will get over the course of the book, but as for lighter fluff and comfort? You'll get lots ;)

Next chapter, Vader begins laying the groundwork of a trap for his shadowy opponent on the station, and Ahsoka and Lux consider where they're going to go from here after the events of the gala. Talk to you guys then – but, as will be the norm from now on, here's a last sneak peek at what comes next:

The quiet, empty space between the stars was an unnatural riot of red and blue lasers, with the occasional spark of red blooming into a rainbow blast as a starfighter was hit and scattered into atoms. Everywhere glowed the turquoise shimmer of engines burning off their fuel in thousands of races to pursue or escape enemy craft.

Beneath it all, the grey, pockmarked face of the Death Star waited amidst its court of Geonosian moons, the inner workings of the weapon's giant radar dish staring up at the battling ships like a lifeless prosthetic on a specialist's table.

Watching fighter formations devolve into chaos then reform then devolve again behind the support-slashed transparisteel of a TIE fighter viewport, Vader felt very much like a spider eyeing prey through the lines of its web. His hands lay still over the dead, unlit controls, stalled until some sign from the battle a hundred klicks away made them snap into motion.

But what was the sign?

A squadron of Y-wings – antiquated by Imperial reckoning, but reliable and sturdy to the eyes of one who'd fought in them – thundered past, then rippled down after their commander as the lead ship dove abruptly for the surface of the station.