The Purple Circle {Branching Out - Book VI}

Coming Full Circle

I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for your unwavering support and for following this series so far. Your dedication and enthusiasm have meant the world to me, and it's been an incredible journey sharing these stories with you.

As we reach the conclusion with The Purple Circle, it's hard to put into words how bittersweet this moment is. There's a deep sense of fulfillment in seeing it all come together, but at the same time, a bit of sadness knowing it's coming to an end. This series was never meant to stretch out this far or cover all the ground it has—at least, not when I first began. But, as often happens with the stories we create, it took on a life of its own, and you were all right there with me, every step of the way.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate each and every one of you who've stuck with these characters, these twists, and this journey. You've made this experience unforgettable.

I hope this final book resonates with you as much as it did with me. Thank you for everything.

With gratitude and love.

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Anakin lounged in the pilot's seat of the Ekkreth, his boots kicked up on the console and his gaze lost in the swirling blues and whites of hyperspace. The gentle hum of the ship filled the silence, punctuated only by the occasional beep from R2-D2, who was perched at his usual spot near the navigation system. C-3PO shuffled nervously in the corner, polishing a dent on his arm with more vigor than necessary.

"Honestly, Master Anakin," Threepio began, his tone teetering between indignation and exasperation, "I still don't understand why we didn't just settle down somewhere civilized. Naboo, perhaps? Or even Alderaan! Lovely places, far less likely to involve blaster fire."

Anakin didn't answer immediately, a half-smirk tugging at his lips as he tapped a finger absently against the console. "And miss out on all the fun?" he said finally, his tone dry. "Where's your sense of adventure, Threepio?"

"My sense of adventure, sir, is precisely calibrated for situations that don't involve you blowing up government facilities!" Threepio shot back, his arms flailing for emphasis. "You've been declared persona non grata on five planets! Five! I'm surprised we haven't been intercepted by the Senate yet."

"Mostly because we have been mavericking around the wild space and the outer rim, you know the Senate does not care what happens here," Anakin let out a low chuckle, the sound warm but tinged with weariness. "Relax, Goldenrod. We've been through worse."

"Worse?" Threepio nearly screeched, throwing his hands up. "Worse than being chased off a planet by an angry mob with pitchforks? What could possibly qualify as—"

R2-D2 interrupted with a series of sharp beeps and whistles, his dome swiveling toward Anakin with what sounded suspiciously like an insult. Anakin grinned, leaning over to pat the droid affectionately. "See, Artoo gets it. He's not afraid of a little chaos."

Threepio crossed his arms—well, as much as a droid could—and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Chaos is all we ever encounter. I'm beginning to think it's you, sir. Trouble follows you wherever you go."

Anakin's smirk faltered slightly, his expression growing distant as he leaned back in his chair. "Maybe," he muttered, half to himself. His eyes flicked toward the streaking lines of hyperspace outside the viewport. "But sometimes trouble's worth it."

Threepio tilted his head, clearly confused, but didn't press further. R2, however, let out a low, curious trill, and Anakin's gaze softened as he turned toward the astromech.

"You remember Rattatak?" he asked, his tone quieter now. R2 beeped in acknowledgment, his lights blinking steadily. "I didn't think I'd ever team up with a Sith apprentice, let alone trust one. But Ventress..." Anakin trailed off, his brow furrowing as memories flooded back.