Part One: The Survivor
My name is Padme′ Amidala.
I am officially classified as dead…and yet, I live.
I once stood against the Trade Federation as they besieged my home planet. I stood against the laws that would have turned the Chancellor into a dictator as Senator, I stood against the growing tide of evil represented by the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Dark Lord of the Sith Count Dooku, and I made a losing plea on a planet of fire to save my husband from embarking on the path that has now utterly destroyed him and left an unspeakable horror in his place. Formerly Queen of Naboo, formerly Senator, formerly married, formerly a mother…now I am none of these things. I am officially dead…and dead inside.
I am also the Emperor's trophy-his plaything. A symbol of his power…
I am his Shadow, always there by his side but never a presence.
One of the few with the ability to oppose him, enslaved into his personal monster.
His silent confidante, his unquestioning servant, the ultimate extension of his will.
Hidden in plain sight…
As far as the galaxy knows, I disappeared amidst all of the chaos surrounding the end of the Clone Wars, the Jedi's fall from grace and the declaration of the New Order and subsequent rise of the Empire. As far as the galaxy is aware, I was declared dead under mysterious circumstances. Far from the story of my miraculous resurrection and ongoing survival, this is the story of the perpetual nightmare that is my continued existence.
And I can tell nobody...not that anybody around me would act on it even if I could tell them. Any free will and independent thought I have is trapped within my head, as my body is enslaved to the will of the Emperor. All I can do is tell my own story in my head, as I am unable to disclose it to anybody. And through doing so, I can attempt to hold onto my past, my identity, my real name…even though the woman they belonged to is long dead, both officially and spiritually. My funeral was even held to sell the deceit that I was dead. In reality, I pray to Shiraya daily that I soon follow the woman buried in my tomb, simply to let this nightmare have an ending.
It all happened so fast that none of us were prepared for what would be rising…
I was the happiest I had ever been… The Clone Wars were over with the imminent defeat of the Separatist menace, I was married, albeit in secret and very much in love with my husband, and I was pregnant with our first child-which would ultimately turn out to be twins. A truly momentous period in my life…and it was all taken away by the newly self-declared Emperor when he had seized power as the last stage of what I could now see was a very carefully worked out and masterfully executed plan in which we were all played as pawns, and now we were to face the consequences of his New Order and our place in his rising Empire. My husband, my soul mate, had been twisted and manipulated…and turned to the Dark Side, becoming the face (ironically) of the new Empire…the galaxy's ultimate nightmare, the Dark Lord of the Sith now known the galaxy over as Darth Vader. Anakin Skywalker, my secret husband, is now completely lost to me-corrupted by the Emperor's malign influence and consumed by lust for power. Almost completely…I cannot lose hope. There is still good in him…I can feel it, buried deep beneath the terrifying monster Darth Vader. I hope that I am right…and hope is all that I have left. And a vengeful fury…a fury that I cannot act on.
So how am I alive, and more importantly-how did it get to this point?
It all started when I was brought to Polis Massa medical facility, ostensibly to be treated for the injuries sustained on the planet Mustafar, but in reality, it was to give birth to my twin children. And I can remember the scene like it was yesterday. It lives on in my every waking nightmare…