"Are you sure he's ready for this?" Padmé nervously twisted the fingertips of the long satin glove she wore on her biomechanic arm.

"He's nearly half a season older than the others and has reached his sixth year." Obi-Wan pointed out, bringing his arm about her waist and squeezing gently.

"But he's so small." Padmé's protective instincts had taken over as she compared their son's size to the other children.

"So was I. Don't worry, his speed and desire to learn will soon advance him quickly. Watch and see."

"I don't know, Obi-Wan. He seems awfully young. Are you sure Master Yoda..."

The Jedi turned to face the Queen of Ruwee, smiling in the face of her worry. "Master Yoda has been training younglings for nearly 800 years. I'm pretty sure he knows what he's doing."

Suddenly, the doors behind them flew open as a boy barely able to carry the training weapon he drug behind him hurried across the matted floor. His mother, Eirtaé, prompted him along.

"Quickly, Garen. You're already late."

Obi-Wan stared after the child, noting the reddish tint to his hair, the hazel blue-green color of his eyes.

He then turned his incredulous gaze upon Padmé who smiled mischeviously. "Garen?"

"I'm afraid we cheated a little. We downloaded some pictures from the Temple archives. It was so obvious when he was born. We thought it fitting. I hope that's okay."

The surprised expression transformed into appreciation as Obi-Wan cupped Padmé's face in his hands and placed a tender kiss upon her mouth. "I love you."

"I know you do." The young woman replied with a grin, easing into the comfort of Obi-Wan's embrace as they turned their attention back to the children being trained by Master Yoda.

This was it. This was what she and her people had been searching for. Not merely survival, but completion. It was what the question had always been. The answer they had sought for nearly one hundred years. What was missing in their lives all along.

Love. It was the only true reason for being.