Disclaimer: Star Wars Belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, and Disney. I am only doing this for fun. :)
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
-Robert Frost, from "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"
The cantina where her contact instructed her to go was located on one of the lowest levels on Coruscant; this was the furthest she had ever ventured into the core of the planet. The trip from where her refugee transport dropped her off at an Alien Immigration Center located in the mid-levels of the planet to the seedy looking bar took longer than Padmé had originally planned
After she got off at the wrong train station and passed up the inconspicuous looking building once Padmé finally found the entrance to the cantina where she was told to go. The building was wedged between a butcher shop and a store where people could buy and sell used electronics. Finally entering the establishment that dubbed itself "The Drunken Hutt" Padmé headed towards the booth positioned furthest from the entrance and sat on the side with her back against the wall where she could take note of everyone who entered and left the building.
Looking around Padmé could only see a few other patrons, a Human male sitting at the bar who was talking quietly with the bartender, a Zeltron female, and three Bith men seated at a table near the door. The floor was just concrete with blood stains scattered across the ground, the few light fixtures it had working were low hanging and gave off a low humming noise.
She understood why her contact had picked this place; it looked like a place that had been forgotten and discarded long ago. She also understood how dangerous a place like this could be if any of the Imperial spies knew that this is where members of the Alliance made underground deals. This far down the law was non-existent, and disposing of anyone that could possibly be a threat to the Empire would be met with no legal recourse.
Padmé did not have to wait long, with a chime that signaled that someone had entered; a small Human woman walked through the doorway of "The Drunken Hutt" and immediately headed towards where Padmé was seated.
The woman's name was Pryia Vonn; she is married to a high ranking Imperial Officer and a member of the Rebel Alliance. Padmé had made her acquaintance during the Clone Wars when Pryia was just an aide for Senator Fang Zar. Sitting down across from her and lowering her hood Pryia wasted no time explaining the reason for her unexpected call.
"Thank you for meeting me so quickly, I know it's not safe for you to be here but I have some good news concerning the friend I told you about last week."
One week ago she received a coded transmission from Priya explaining that she found a man who worked at Incomm Industries and was willing to sell information about starfighter prototypes for a large amount of credits. When the transmission ended Padmé then packed what few possessions she still had and set off to Coruscant from her small temporary home she had made for herself on Christophsis.
What a lonely creature I have become.
Brushing away the thought Padmé placed her elbows on the table and leaned in closer to Pryia ensuring that she wasn't going to miss anything the woman said.
"I received a message from him two nights ago saying that he would be willing to meet a member of the Alliance while he was on Onderon. He says the meeting place is ours to choose, he doesn't care as long as he gets his money."
"How much money is this information worth?" Padmé inquired.
"One hundred thousand credits." Pryia answered
Padmé straightened in her seat. "Do Bail and Mon truly believe what this man has is that important?"
"Yes they do, and that is why you're the only one they trust enough to get this done."
Padmé didn't even have to think about it; Bail and Mon were risking their lives every day just by being in the Capital, and they had both done so much to ensure that she (and her children) remained hidden from the Emperor (and their father).
Shaking her head Padmé complied. "Alright, just send all the information you have to my private commlink. I'll start looking for a transport to Onderon". Beginning to stand she was halted when Priya gently placed her hand on Padmé's elbow.
"Wait, I have one more thing to tell you." Pryia added.
Sitting back down Padmé waited for Pryia to speak. Leaning in closer, Pryia spoke in low voice and Padmé had to strain her ears to hear what she said.
"I have some news about Vader. It seems that-." Just then someone in the cantina dropped their drink causing the glass to shatter on the hard floor. The action caused both women to startle and lean back from their close proximity over the table.
Padmé felt her heart seize in her chest when Pryia mentioned that name. She has tried for the past seven years to not think about the man her husband became. She knows it would be easier for her to just pretend that Anakin died on Mustafar, but she couldn't extinguish the faint light inside her that believed that somewhere deep inside Darth Vader was the man she once loved.
Anakin was murdered by Vader, Obi-Wan tried to explain to her while still on Polis Massa. The man you married is gone, you must understand that. Numb from grief all she could do was nod her head and look down at her babies, such tiny little things, completely innocent and unaware of the life they had just been born into.
Resuming their conversation Pryia whispered "It seems that Vader is planning some type of coup to overthrow the Emperor."
"Those kinds of rumors are nothing new; people have been saying that ever since Vader first appeared." Padmé remarked.
Shrugging her shoulders Pryia said. "I know, but these ones might to have a grain of truth in them. Last night I heard my husband speaking to Grand Moff Jarin who believes that Vader has taken an apprentice."
Padmé opened her mouth to voice doubt at the reliability of Imperial gossip but closed it when Pryia held up her hand to silence her protest.
"Padmé, please trust me. I know how these men think, and I can tell the difference between something that is just gossip and when they are plotting something. Many believe that it is just a matter of time before Vader kills Palpatine and declares himself the Emperor."
Shocked, Padmé spoke. "Alright, thank you for telling me. I appreciate it."
After leaving "The Drunken Hutt" Padmé started the long trek back up to the mid-levels where she hoped to be able to find a transport to take her to Onderon. While waiting in line for the lift to take her to the train platform Padmé couldn't fight the feeling that she was being watched. Shivering at the damp coldness that seemed to permeate everything down here, she pulled her jacket closer to her body and lifted her hood to conceal her face.
The uneasy feeling followed her all the way up to the bar she was currently sitting in. The bar was frequented by freighter pilots and finding one to take her to Onderon shouldn't be too difficult. More often than not as long as she had the credits, the pilots were willing to take her wherever she wanted to go. On occasion there are some men that felt she owed them more than just a substantial amount of credits.
(And if they're handsome enough and she's the right amount of drunk and lonely she has no problem obliging them).
The Coruscanti night life was in full swing by the time she ascended from the lower levels of the planet. After retrieving her small pack from a storage locker at the shuttle station Padmé headed towards the first spacer bar she could find.
Padmé was now seated on a stool in a dimly lit cantina that smelled like sweat, booze, and cigarra smoke. She nursed a glass of cheap whiskey that burned her throat and made her wince. Tipping her head back, she swallowed what was left of the offensive liquid and waved over the bartender. She covered the glass with her hand when he made a move to refill her drink and placed a credit chip in front of him.
"I'm in need of transport that can take me to Onderon; I'm hoping you could point me in the direction of someone who's going that way."
Rubbing his chin, the man thought about it for a minute before speaking. "Yeah I think I know someone, but it's going to cost you another credit."
Padmé's eyes narrowed "You know what, I'll find someone on my own."
"Fine then," The man said, shrugging his shoulders. "Good luck with that." He chuckled and swiped the credit Padmé game him of the counter and walked away.
Sighing, Padmé stood up and went to the 'fresher, deciding she would look on her own after she came out.
Walking back to her stool Padmé noticed a figure occupying her seat. Halting abruptly, she caused a woman behind her to stumble into her and spill her drink down the back of her shirt. "Stupid bitch." The woman mumbled. But Padmé didn't hear her, her eyes glued to the familiar face sitting at the bar.
When the war was declared over, Palpatine ordered that no more clone troopers were to be created. The Kaminoans were instructed to destroy the clone fetuses while the half trained adult clones were forced out into the galaxy to find other means of employment. The Empire never released an official statement about the fate of the young cadets. The clones that made up The Grand Army of the Republic became storm troopers, but now due to the Emperors decree that only humans were permitted to serve in the Imperial Army; clones were being phased out, only serving in a teaching capacity at the academy.
Padmé couldn't say with certainty that she knew the clone sitting at the bar, but this was the first time in the subsequent years after the war that she has seen a clone and she had to admit that she was curious.
She supposed she should feel more afraid about the possibility that someone may have uncovered the truth about her, but after spending all these years cast adrift from everyone and everything she ever loved she wanted whatever small connection to her old life she could get.
Walking over to the man Padmé was barley seated when he spoke. "You know you're a hard woman to find Senator Amidala." His tone was bored, like he was commenting on the weather instead of talking to a woman who has been dead to the galaxy for almost ten years.
Her stomach rolled when he addressed by her former title, she clenched her fists to her side hoping to hide the way her hands began to tremble. Swallowing, she turned her head to stare at the man's profile.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," Padmé replied in a clear voice. "You know who I am, but I can't say for sure I know who you are."
Turning his head to face her she could see the slight smile on his lips. "It's Rex milady," He said inclining his head towards her. "We've met before."
Padmé felt her eyes widen. She had only met Captain Rex a handful of times during the war, but what she can recall about him is that he was the clone trooper that served as second-in-command to her husband in the 501st Legion.
She remembers when Anakin would come home from the frontlines; he refused to talk to her about the war. Sometimes though, after they fucked and he would begin to nod off she would wrap her body around him, tucking her chin in the space between his neck and shoulder, she would press a kiss there and whisper in his ear.
"Tell me what's bothering you."
And he would; lying languid in her bed, his face half pressed into the pillow, his voice somnolent. He confided in her that his last campaign was a disaster, it was the first one he led without Ahsoka or Rex and he'd lost more men than usual. He told her he felt like everyone was eventually going to leave him.
"Everyone has their own path to take Ani," She tried to assure him. "You can't control everything."
She assumed he was asleep by then because he gave her no response. Uncomfortable from the sensation of her bare skin sticking to his and her legs beginning to ache she tried to untangle herself from him. When she attempted to dislodge her arm from underneath his body, she felt his hands grip her wrists and pull them tight against his chest, lacing their fingers together.
She nodded her head in response. "Yes I remember you; you were one of the soldiers on Naboo during that mess with the Blue Shadow Virus."
"Yes, milady."
Padmé found it comical; here she was sitting in a dive bar with beer running down the back of her shirt talking to a Jango Fett clone (the clone of a man that once tried to assassinate her) that used to serve under the command of her estranged husband and he was calling her "milady."
"Please," she said her tone light. "Call me by my first name; there's no need for such formality here." To prove her point she gestured to a Twi'lek couple sitting at a small table in the corner, the woman's hands were clearly down the front of her date's pants and his head was shamelessly thrown back.
"They've been like that for the past ten minutes." Padmé explained.
"I know, to be completely honest with you Senator-I mean Padmé-I have been tracking you since you landed." Rex confessed, an uncertain look passing over his features.
Padmé straightened up. "What, who hired you to track me?" She asked, trying to hide the panic creeping into her voice.
When she was both a Queen and a Senator she had many political enemies, but by now they were either dead or believed that she was. Unless… Padmé felt herself grow pale. What if Rex uncovered the truth about Anakin and was still loyal to him? She let her guard down for five minutes and now everything she did to protect her children would be for nothing.
Calm down, if Anakin did suspect you were alive he wouldn't have hired someone to fetch you; he would have done it himself.
Comforted by the somewhat terrifying thought Padmé fought the urge to bolt and waited for Rex to explain.
"I wasn't hired; it was more of a favor for a friend."
Padmé furrowed her brows. "Well," She questioned again. "Who is this favor for?"
Rising off the stool he grabbed her pack and offered it to her, jerking his head towards the exit he said. "I think she would want to tell you in person."
She grabbed the pack from his still outstretched hand and slipped it around her shoulders. Gesturing for her to walk in front of him, she stepped out of the dingy bar and into the cool night air. Still apprehensive but willing to trust him, she followed him into the night and towards the woman who searched for her.