Padme looked around her room sadly. The room held so many memories in its yellow walls. Had she really been so innocent once? Did she really use to live in a world where she believed no evil resided and all people were as content as she was?

Padme shook her head. This room made her feel so old.

"Taking a trip down memory lane?" Anakin smirked, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

"Hmm," she nodded sadly. "I can't believe how much I miss this place."

"Your mother sent me to get you for dinner," he informed, "although I don't know how anyone is able to consider dinner after that huge lunch."

"Please," she laughed, "I doubt you will have any trouble choking it down."

"Obi-Wan won't be able to stop laughing once I return to Corascant looking like a Hutt all because I can't say no to your mother."

"No one ever can," Padme laughed.

"So that's where you get it from," Anakin smiled lovingly.

"I suppose it is," she agreed.

"Give it back," shrieked Pooja.

"No. It's not yours," Ryoo shouted back running full speed into Padme's room. Ryoo placed Padme between herself and Pooja. The obvious source of their disagreement, a stuffed toy, protectively in Ryoo's grasp.

"Girls—"Padme began but the pair did not hear her. Pooja pounced at her sister but Ryoo stepped back knocking into a dresser.

"Ouch," the sisters said in unison.

"That's enough girls,' Padme said firmly, "it's silly to fight over a toy."

"But it's mine," Pooja insisted.

"It's not! Daddy got it for me," Ryoo glared.

Padme stared up at her husband pleadingly but he did nothing but watch. His blue eyes expressing the fun he was getting out of this little scene.

"Isn't anyone coming to dinner?" Sola shouted out to them.

Pooja and Ryoo's heads perked up at the mention of dinner, all qualms about the little toy forgotten. Immediately they sprinted out of the room following the voice of their mother.

"And that is why we don't have kids," Anakin sighed watching gratefully as the girls ran off.

"That and other reasons," Padme said pointedly. She could not help but sigh at the sight of the knocked over dresser.

"Here let me help," he said moving to lift the dresser but she waved him off.

"No that's alright you can do it after dinner."

Padme made to move out of the room when her eyes caught a glint on the floor. Curious she moved closer. It was a hologram. It was a little old and outdated but seemed to be in good shape. She turned it on expecting to see a worn hologram of her and her sister. But it wasn't. The people staring back at her were no one she had ever known. A man was leaning casually on a brick wall laughing at whatever it was the woman sitting at his feet had just said.

Padme looked over the disc for any sign of who the pair may be but the disc was blank.

The slave traders had them lined up in a neat line. Their chains were checked and rechecked. Rhal-Gul, the head slaver, gave them one last look over. The slaves' hair had been neatly combed and their skin had been scrubbed till it was as clear as any princess's. His clients, the Silverians, were a picky race. Even their slaves had to look their best.

"Alright ladies," he growled, spotting a buyer, "smile like your life depends on it."

And they smiled because they knew it did.

A very tall, very solemn woman stopped in front of the line, her sharp pale eyes moving over each girl carefully. Some took a step back, uncomfortable with such scrutiny.

"Well Madam Alma what I tell you," Rhal-Gul puffed up his scaly chest proudly. "One of my best batch. Got faces of angels—every last one of them."

"Hmm." Was her crisp response. She did not look impressed.

"Force I pray she doesn't pick me," Tia said peering down the line to get a better look at the woman. "She looks like she would whip you just for blinking funny."

"Tia hush," Hester warned.

"What?" Tia stared at her friend indignantly, "you're not thinking the same?"

"The one with the dark hair bring her forward," the solemn woman ordered.

Hester's head shout up in panic. One of the slavers pulled her forward. She felt cold and bare without the comfort of the others shoulder pressed against hers.

Rhal-Gul came to stand beside Madam Alma. He looked pleased. "A fine choice madam. Not much of a talker and a nice form. A good worker I can guarantee."

"Hmm. She's a little tall. Lady Amethyst does not like slaves towering over her."

"A shame—you know I stole her from the House of Finite. They had her dressed in jewels and silks spun by the gods. She was very high up in Lord Finite's harem."

At the mention of the House of Finite Madam Alma's head perked. "You don't say. Well I am sure milady might make an exception. It is not as if she is a giant by any means."

Hester tried not to look disgusted as the woman looked her over in a new light.

The slave trader looked pleased about his clever lie. Well not a lie really. She had worked for the House of Finite, maybe only as a handmaiden, but still Alma didn't need to know that. Silverians were so vain. Even their servants needed to be above everyone else. That was why half of the peasant slaves he sold to these people were in reality "princesses" or "duchesses". Force he hoped all of his clients would be as gullible today.

"What about that one over there," Madam Alma pointed down the line. Rhal-Gul signaled for his men to bring her forward.

Hester looked at the girl sorrowfully. She could not be more than twelve.

"You have an excellent eye madam," the slaver gushed.

"Finally, Padme," Her mother sighed, "we've been waiting for you. The girls are starving."

"Sorry," she apologized, distractedly fiddling with the hologram. "I guess I was a little preoccupied."

"Well now that we are all here, please, everyone help yourself," Jobal invited warmly.

As the meal was enjoyed in quiet chatter, Padme's mind continued to puzzle over the hologram.

"Hey dad," she said, "did anyone ever live here before us?"

"Of course not," he laughed, proudly, "I built this house myself."

"I didn't know that dad," Sola said surprised.

Her mother and father shared a warm look. "We built this house about two years after you were born Sola and then we had Padme. Your father spent a whole year working on this house," Jobal said proudly.

"Why do you ask, Padme," her father asked curiously.

"Well the girls were in my room when—"Padme noticed her nieces sink deep into their chairs with shame. "And a dresser accidentally got knocked over. I found this behind it."

Padme slid the hologram over to her father. He clicked it open and the hologram was revealed showing off the smiling man and woman.

"Oh my," Jobal whispered.

An hour later Hester and four others were following Madam Alma down a winding marble path, each flanked by a guard. The group was mostly silent until the marble road melded into a great wall over shadowing the entourage. The slave girls let out an audible gasp. Some had never seen such grandeur. Towering over the wall was a great palace, trimmed in precious metal and glittering with what looked like diamonds embedded in the expensive rock.

"Come along," Madam Alma snapped, leading them to a small entrance by the wall. The slaves quickly followed her, moving quickly down a winding flight of stairs.

The woman waited until the four slaves stood straightly in front of her before beginning. "Welcome to the House of Senator Glenn Floridian and Lady Amethyst Venetian-Floridian. From this day forth you are theirs do with what they wish. You shall never utter a sound in their presence unless asked and you shall always be properly dressed and manicured. From this day forth your names are Gild. The Senator and milady cannot be bothered to remember your names and it is best that you forget them as well."

The slaves shared a look but otherwise remained silent.

"You were selected to assist Lady Amethyst in her personnel chambers. Her head slave, Gild Blonde, will show you your duties."

A woman stepped up beside Madam Alma. She was simply dressed in a white dress that fell to her ankles and her bright blonde hair crowned her head in a series of intricate braids.

"Follow me," she said quietly.

And the slaves did.

"This doesn't seem too bad," the young girl who was chosen after Hester whispered hopefully.

"No it doesn't," Hester agreed, looking over the small corridor they were walking through.

"That is enough talking," Gild Blonde said gently. Hester looked over the woman carefully. She was broken. Long years of slavery would do that. It would break your back and strip your will until you can do nothing more than lay on the ground and wait for death to carry off your whipped and bleeding soul.

"Here put these on," Gild Blonde said, passing out white gowns similar to her own. "Be sure not to get them dirty. Lady Amethyst does not tolerate dirty gowns."

The slaves slipped into them silently.

As the day progressed they were shown around the palace and informed of the duties that were expected of them.

"Your rooms are beneath milady's quarters so that you may always hear when you need her. If she is forced to wait for you, you shall be punished. If you neglect a duty, you shall be punished. And if you disturb the household in any way that reflects poorly on the master and mistress, you shall be punished."

The slaves nodded their understanding. It was no different than the lives they had lived before.

"Lady Amethyst is currently away on a retreat so I do not expect you will be needed much. Senator Floridian will arrive this afternoon. Be sure to stay out of his way and if he calls for you move as quickly as possible."

The slaves nodded their understanding.

"Here are your quarters. I suggest you rest for tomorrow."

With that Gild Blonde walked away all interest in the new slaves gone.

"Well this is much more posh than the fields I was working in," Quinna said appreciatively, following onto a bed.

"This Lady Amethyst sounds like my last mistress," Jestie noted, "she use to whip me just because she was bored."

"Do you think they will whip us," said the girl fearfully.

"I don't see why they wouldn't," Quinna said bitterly.

The young girl's eyes began to swell up with tears. Quickly she sat down on a bed. Hester watched in silence as the girl began to shake.

"So you're new to the slave game huh," Jestie laughed harshly

"They caught me when I was out walking on the beach," the girl sobbed.

"Well you got off easy," she said, "this is heaven compared to the hell holes you could have wound up working in. Just think, right now you could be working on Tatooine on a moisture farm working until you dropped. Feel better?"

"No," she shivered.

Hester rolled her eyes. She was never very good at comforting people but compared to Quinna and Jestie she was a professional. Slowly she moved to sit beside the girl, wrapping a comforting arm around her hunched shoulders.

"What's your name?" she asked gently.

CLANG

All four heads shot up in alarm at the deafening sound.

CLANG

"Are you deaf?" Gild Blonde barreled in. "Senator Floridian is calling. You go assist him."

Hester felt cold as Gild Blonde pointed the finger at her but silently she stood, following the woman out of the quarters.

"The senator's office is at the end of the hall. Remember to be silent and respectful," Gild Blonde warned, shoving her forward.

Hester walked nervously down the hall, painfully aware of the echo of her feet against the swirling marble flooring. At the end of the hall great glass doors stood tall in front of her and she timidly knocked against them.

"Enter." Came a distracted voice.

Carefully, she opened the doors and stepped in.

An intimidating dark desk stood before her and behind it a bowed head was carefully going over a stack of papers. For a few heavy moments he ignored her.

Hester opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it. She was not allowed to speak.

Eventually, the head lifted and it took all of Hester's will not to look surprised. He was not what she had expected at all. Senators were supposed to be old and fat, lazily living off the sorrows of the people but this man…he was young—vibrant.

Long blonde locks overshadowed pale eyes and his lithe form was casually sprawled over the enormous chair. He was handsome by any woman's standards with such sharp features.

"Yes? What is it?" The man asked annoyed.

Hester shook her head, trying to get rid of the fog clouding her mind. "You-you rang for me, sir."

The senator looked to the side for a moment, his pale eyes lost in thought.

"You are not who I rung for," he said finally.

Hester started unsure of what to do now when suddenly the doors burst open. Hester turned in surprise to see another slave girl enter.

"I am sorry to keep you waiting, Senator," the girl said with a smile. The senator looked her over for a moment but he only nodded. He then turned to Hester.

"You may go."

Hester blushed sudden realization gracing her. Quickly, she walked out of the office her ears ringing with the slave girl's obnoxious giggles.

"Where did you find this, Padme?" Ruwee asked, turning the hologram over in his hand.

"Behind the dresser," she said her eyes on the hologram, "I think someone accidentally dropped it."

"What a shame," Sola said, "It is such a beautiful hologram. It seems like it would be very special to someone."

"Do you recognize them, mom?" Padme asked suspiciously.

"Not particularly no," Jobal said, her full attention on her plate. "We had a maintenance man come in and fix your window a few months ago. I'm sure it just slipped out of his pocket while he was working."

Anakin's eyes slowly rose up to meet Padme's. Her mother was lying.

"You're talking about Gild Mae," a slave informed her, "she's the senator's personal slave."

The slaves had gathered around her as she was describing to Quinna what had just happened.

"That's terrible," said Quinna disgusted.

"Not for Gild Mae. She never stops bragging and she always comes back to her quarters with some kind of special trinket. The girl really thinks she is something special but let me tell you something," the slave woman leaned in closer, "he'll drop her as soon as he gets bored. He always does. But I got to admit Gild Mae has lasted the longest."

"Does Lady Amethyst know?" Jestie ask curiously.

"Oh yes," nodded another slave. "But she won't do anything about it. She thinks he is just doing it to get her attention—poor girl. She covers herself in jewels and low-cut gowns and he doesn't even blink at her. The woman binds herself in a corset too. She is a little on the chubby side, you see."

Jestie rolled her eyes, "just goes to show that all men are nerfs!"

"Still," giggled a slave, "I wouldn't mind. Senator Floridian has to be one of the handsomest men I have ever seen."

The slaves nodded in agreement.

"That shouldn't be an excuse," said Hester bitterly.

"True. But what are we going to do. We are only slaves."

Suddenly silence flooded the quarters as a lone figure walked in. Gild Mae walked past the others with her head held high allowing everyone to see the beautiful gold chain adorning her neck. Her black eyes sparkled as she took in the looks of pure jealousy. Hester watched tensely as the woman began to walk in her direction.

"You are new correct?" snapped Gild Mae.

Hester could only nod.

"Well then the Senator and I shall let it slide but the next time he rings remember your place. When he rings he is not calling for a scrawny peasant girl. He's calling for me. Understand that and your stay here will remain pleasant. You got me? " she said, her red lips curled in a snarl.

"Of course," Hester said, matching Gild Mae's glare with her own.

Somehow Jobal was masterly able to steer the conversation away from the hologram but Padme would not forget.

"Did you see the way she wouldn't even look at me," Padme whispered, quietly slipping into the guest room with Anakin. She looked over her shoulder for a moment to make sure no one saw her but the hallways were empty. "You felt it yourself. She was lying to me."

"Perhaps she has her reasons, Angel," Anakin sighed, falling onto the guest bed with weariness.

"I don't think she has ever lied to me before—at least not so blatantly."

"I think you're looking into this too much," he said, running a hand through his curls. "It's just a hologram."

"I know," she said, "but the more I think of it the more familiar that man looks."

"You mean you know him?" Anakin sat up with interest.

"It's just a feeling," Padme frowned. She did not know why she felt so curios about these strangers. As a senator did she not have better things to do with her time? But still she could not let this go.

"She's crying again," Jestie moaned. Hester looked over in the corner to see the little girl curled in a ball quietly sobbing.

Calmly she went and sat next to the child, wrapping her arms around the girl's small frame.

"It's alright," she cooed, "You are going to be fine."

"I don't want to be called Gild," she sobbed, "It's a horrible name."

"Alright then," Hester whispered, "what would you like to be called?"

"Jobal. That's my name."

Hester gripped the girl tighter, remembering back to her first night of slavery. The fear. The loss. All she could do was sit with the girl until she slipped into an exhausted sleep.

"Sleep well, Jobal."