Chapter Two
It was the early afternoon when Padme set foot inside of Briari Sarbarn's apartment. It was large, much like the Senatorial apartment Padme had occupied not too long ago. Months, though. It had been months. She needed to keep that in mind. That was actually a lot of time.
The apartment dressings were done in deep navy blues and rich mauves, and consisted of a large seating area in front of a balcony. A small kitchenette was set off in the right-hand corner farthest from the entrance, and a hallway disappearing—undoubtedly—to a fresher and two bedrooms broke away from the large rooms to the left of the kitchenette. Padme, dressed in a simple goldenrod-yellow gown, with her new red hair bound back in a simple plait, stepped uncertainly into the sitting room.
She glanced out the window, seeing the corner of the complex of Senatorial apartment building that Padme had in fact lived was a quick speeder's ride away. She thought she could see a large white bow on the balcony on the side that was just beginning to turn away from this complex, but she shook her head. There was no way they were still keeping her apartment decorated in mourning four months after her death.
Behind her, Briari—a woman with layered, short blonde hair, the same green eyes and pale skin, who was easily no older than twenty—dragged a set of bags in the door behind her. Padme's brow furrowed as she turned, making her way back over to her.
"I'm sorry. Let me help," she said.
The voice… the voice was going to be the hardest to get used to. Triana's voice was a touch huskier than Padme's had been. It gave her a pause anytime she didn't have to put any real thought into what she was saying. Briari popped up, whirling and waving Padme away from the bags.
"No, no! I can manage! You've just woken up, and you're still… recuperating. I can manage a couple of bags," the girl said.
Her voice, by comparison, was a bit high-pitched, but not in an annoying way. It put Padme in the mind of a frightened mouse, and that Briari was forever one terrified squeak away from bolting to safety. The thought made Padme feel even worse about her current situation. Of course, she knew that there was really nothing she could do that would truly assuage this guilt—and that, perhaps, she ought not to even feel this guilt at all. But as it stood, she did. She was in this strange woman's body, unable to alert anyone to her true identity—truly, physically unable for reasons still yet to be known to her—and now having to pretend to be Triana so that Briari didn't become worried or suspicious and have her recommitted to the hospital. This poor girl knew nothing of Padme's old life, or the purpose of her new one. In the end, she was an innocent bystander, honestly believing that the Force had granted her a miracle and returned her sister to her. But, of one thing Padme was certain: she was alone in this body. Although she did not know when, she did know that the original Triana Sarbarn had passed on from this world.
Padme shook the thoughts from her mind, making her way over to a photo projector located on the counter that separated the kitchen from the main sitting room. Two people, a man and a woman both with hair as blond as Briari's, smiled up at her from the picture. It didn't take Padme long to realize she was looking at a photo of Briari's and Triana's parents—which, based on the patient reports she had read on Triana, she knew them to be deceased.
"Do… do you remember them?" Briari asked, standing a bit behind Padme.
She turned, eyeing the woman whose face was lit with so much hope. She frowned at Briari, a little sadly.
"Bits and pieces. Our parents, right?" she asked.
Briari nodded. "Yes. Suni and Taran Sarbarn. They passed away just before your accident, do you remember that?"
Padme took a moment, pulling up the dates she had taken care to memorize. Triana had been in a coma since the last year or so of the Clone Wars. After another moment, she realized that no date had been given in Triana's records of her parents' deaths. She shook her head.
"No. I'm sorry. I mean, I remembered they were… gone. But I… I didn't remember when."
Briari nodded, and it was clear that there was tears in her eyes as she turned and made her way to the sofa. A quick glance about showed Padme that Briari had already put away her bags. Sitting down with a sigh, Briari patted the cushion next to herself.
"Will you sit with me?" she asked.
Padme nodded, moving and taking the seat with no hesitation. That seemed to make her supposed sister happy. Briari turned to better face Padme, placing her clasped hands in her lap.
"The doctors told me not to rush or push you, but to gently nudge you in the direction of your memory… so I thought I'd let you take the lead. Is there… is there anything you want to ask?"
There were a million questions Padme wanted to ask, but none of them pertained to a single iota to what Briari was talking about. Instead, Padme nodded, knowing that this would be the greatest opportunity to get a sense of the life she had been thrust in to, and the best way to avoid suspicions.
"Um… I know that I had a, um, head trauma from an accident… but I don't remember what exactly happened. Could you… could you tell me?" Padme asked.
She was sure that she was torturing this poor girl. But now was not the time to be overly considerate. Besides, Briari had asked. Padme needed to know these things. But Briari only nodded.
"It was the stupidest thing, really. You were on your way back from your, ahem, work. You had gotten on the public transport, and it was hit somewhere along the route home by a careless speeder. The driver of the speeder was killed, and there were several injuries and a few deaths from the transport you were on. However, I think you were the only case resulting in a comatose state."
She said this with such conciseness, such matter-of-factness that Padme couldn't help but admire the girl. She was willing to re-live what was almost certainly one of her most painful memories, all for the sake of having her sister back. That was definitely a trait to be admired.
Padme nodded to acknowledge Briari's words. "You, um, mentioned employment? What did I do?"
At this, Briari laughed, startling Padme. She sighed, becoming immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry. Sorry! It's just… You were always rather… um, free spirited when it came to the idea of a career. So the last job you had, before the accident was… um… you waitressed at a cantina."
It took everything in Padme's power not to turn up her nose at that. Not that there was anything wrong with being a cantina waitress, somebody had to do it, it was just never, ever something she pictured herself doing.
"Perhaps it would be best if I… didn't return to that line of work," Padme said, pursing her lips.
"Of course not! If anything is going to give you nightmarish flashbacks, I'd almost bet it would be that! When you're a bit more settled, I might have some work lined up for you. I mean, it's not what you would've normally done in the past, but I've been careful to keep it open for you, in case… well, when you woke up."
Padme arched a brow. "Really?"
"Yeah, it's um, close to where I work, but in a different department. The official title is Sector Liaison. You would basically be working for the Emperor, hunting down those who start gossipy rumors and such."
A PR Rep, Padme thought. She almost laughed. In a way, this would be perfect. What better way to catch up on the last four months than to hunt down the rumors and figure out for herself whether they were true or not? And she would undoubtedly cross paths eventually with—
"Emperor Palpatine," she muttered aloud.
The words still sounded foreign to her, and Briari looked flabbergasted.
"How did you know?" she asked.
Padme shrugged. "They did have HoloNet in the common room."
"Oh," Briari giggled. "That makes sense."
"I think that type of job would be good for me… help jog my memory," Padme said.
Briari nodded. "Then it's settled. Once you're a bit more on your feet, I'll set you up to meet with my boss. It'll be as good as yours."
#
Three weeks had passed before Padme had done enough to convince Briari she was stable enough to commit to a full-time job. She had done everything she could think of to prove this—operating technology, going shopping for food, cooking, cleaning, talking with her frequently. But it took a full three weeks for Briari to finally cave and send Padme, by herself, to meet the head of the Sector Liaison department, Kinlie Starbiten.
Padme had entered the offices that surrounded Palpatine's so-called Throne Room, more prepared for this than she had been for anything. She had spent every free moment in the past three weeks—mostly while Briari had been gone on her own job—to study up on Palpatine and every bit of news surrounding him since the start of the Galactic Empire. The rumors varied from believable to downright crazy, and Padme had them all memorized. She wanted this job. More than that, she needed it. She felt almost compelled, like this was the first step to finding out exactly why she had returned from her own demise. There was no logic behind this, save that the last clear connection to her previous life that she could find remained solely with the man who now called himself Emperor.
Kinlie had seemed impressed with Padme's knowledge of current events in a way that gave Padme the impression that Briari had mentioned her sister's previous condition to the woman. Kinlie had not been expecting much, Padme also surmised, but seemed more than adequately impressed with Padme. After a short interview, Padme had left with the job secured.
#
Kinlie was no nonsense, and very involved in her job—which was basically to manage the entire Sector Liaison department. She dressed always in khaki, despite the fact that the liaisons were encouraged to dress differently from other Imperial employees (officers and the like). It made it easier to run down rumors when such work was necessary if they didn't look like they were agents of the Empire. Then again, Kinlie—with her cut short, overly curly tawny hair—never did the running. The only running it seemed to Padme that her boss ever did was back and forth from the Emperor himself—as Kinlie seemed to be one of the very few who seemed to be allowed inside the Emperor's actual Throne Room. Whenever she exited the room, it was always done while barking orders at either an individual, a certain group, or all of them.
But Padme was nothing if not determined. The first week or so she worked with the department, she did her best to keep her head down and follow her orders to the T. They were deplorable, in some cases, as she loved democracy and the freedom of speech that the Republic had allowed and even enforced. And it seemed to her that if anyone said anything remotely negative against the Empire, especially Palpatine himself, they were to be silenced by any means necessary. That first week, Padme's job had been to track down credible leads for smallish rumors—like where the Emperor had last been seen in a public outing, who he had been with, and any further speculation not mandated by Palpatine himself. Padme didn't remember what it felt like to die, but she was pretty sure a part of her soul was doing so, just by doing this job.
Two weeks in, and Kinlie was leveling a mix of praise and pressure on Padme, giving her ever increasingly difficult rumors to hunt down. She had also given Padme more access to various surveillance located all over the planet—as far as Padme could tell—to aid in her searches. It made her cringe, to know that this new government was so closely watching—and doing Force knew what else—to its citizens. But everyone was a pawn in Palpatine's plan… Padme was seeing that clearly now, perhaps for the first time ever.
How had she never seen it before? That was another thought making her ill.
It was week three before Kinlie came frantically running into the offices, this time from the outside door, not the Throne Room.
"Look alive!" she cried into the room. "And make a path!"
Everyone flew to their feet as if that was what was expected, and Padme followed suit, careful to blend in. All eyes seemed to be locked on the outside door with an anticipation so thick in the air that Padme seemed almost to choke with it. Kinlie had moved to stand just behind Padme's shoulder, and she glanced back at her boss, seeing the woman primp her hair for just a moment.
"What's happening?" Padme whispered.
However, before Kinlie could answer, the doors opened, and Padme watched as every single one of her co-workers, including Kinlie, went down on one knee, heads bowed. Stunned, Padme turned.
Standing in the doorway was none other than the disfigured face of Palpatine himself… and his yellowed eyes were locked solely on her.