Chapter Six: Seeing Double

Padmé screamed, then fell back laughing. But that would only startle the other girl even more, so she clapped a hand to her mouth for a moment before realizing she, too, was trying not to snort through her fist. Instantly Padmé relaxed.

"Oh my…"

"Gods, I am so sorry – "

"No, really, I should pay more attention to where I'm – "

"It's just you – "

"We – "

"Are we related or something?" the girl laughed.

She pursed her lips together in apology. "I doubt it."

I doubt there'd be any way to know for sure.

The other girl still smiled, looking briefly at the older man by her side, who Padmé hadn't spotted until that moment. He was powerfully-built for his age, with hair that fell just short of his elbows and a nose that may have been broken at one point. But her focus was still on the small girl – young woman, really – because the moment they had rounded the corner Padmé had thought for a split-second she was seeing double. Of herself.

And judging by the girl's reaction, she clearly wasn't imagining things.

Unfortunately, she was supposed to be running a delivery at the moment, and was late as it was.

"I'm really sorry, I have – " she started to say, but was cut off before she could manage anything else.

"Over there!" someone shouted, "It's the one on the poster!" The long-haired man threw himself in front of her before she really had time to process that they were being blasted at. No, she was being blasted at. He was deflecting them with some sort of sword – a lightsaber? Impossible, something Anakin would dream up. But then the girl was pulling Padmé down an alley and they were running, the tall man bringing up the rear.

Up the street, around the corner, across a small boulevard, down a narrow flight of steps into another alleyway, and so it went with the two girls kicking up sand as the man took care of the occasional blast whenever their assailants turned a corner fast enough to catch sight of them.

Padmé hadn't the frame of mind to wonder how she'd possibly gotten herself into this situation. All she knew was that there was a door ahead, a door she knew, and she led the way as they flew indoors. They hadn't been seen, she didn't think, but the man listened at the door for several moments before nodding, satisfied.

"We should be safe for the time being," he said, his voice thickly accented in deep Core dialect. At this point, she was hardly fazed. "What is this place?"

"Looks like a storehouse," said the girl.

"What's going on?" Padmé demanded, trembling. "Why were they shooting at me?"

Because it had been her they were after, though it hardly made sense. They had singled her out, shot at her, pursued her.

What could they possibly have wanted?

"They were shooting at you," said the girl, pulling her hood down, "because they thought you were me. Easy mistake to make from a distance." Then she turned to her companion and said worriedly, "I've been so focused on Besali I didn't even think there'd be a warrant out for me. Well, a new one, anyway."

"But," said Padmé, still not understanding this situation in the least, "why would they be shooting at you? What have you done?"

"Fought the system," she replied grimly, extending her hand. "Sabé Eylon, usually go by the latter."

"Padmé," she replied, tentatively accepting it. "I'm sorry, I still don't understand."

Eylon glanced at the man, who raised his eyebrows. She turned back to Padmé and looked at her frankly for a moment, sizing her up and apparently finding her trustworthy. To a point. "It's… complicated," she replied. "Let's just say the Haroko Clan aren't fond of me. We've had a few run-ins on Marukesh."

"But you're not Maruk."

"No, it's complicated. Like I said." She rubbed her palm against her forehead, agitated. "Mas- Qui-Gon and I were on our way to the Core when they shot out our hyperdrive."

"And you need it fixed?"

"No, we need it replaced," said her companion – Qui-Gon, apparently. "But the situation's become much more complicated now, especially since we've compromised your safety in the process. Do you live far from here?"

"No," Padmé replied, "but I can't go home, I'm supposed to be – kriff, I'm supposed to be running an errand right now. Derjik's going to kill me." Maybe not, but he would beat her, of that she was certain.

Qui-Gon frowned. "I advise you to lie low for the time being. Make excuses later to your employer, your safety is what's important at the moment."

"You don't understand, he's not my employer, he's my – " Padmé shook her head. She didn't have the time. "I have to go."

"Alright," he said wearily, "but I advise you to wear your shawl over your head." He motioned to the rough-woven fabric draped around her waist. She nodded and quickly unfastened it, looping it over her hair and around her shoulder.

"Good luck," she said to the odd duo, but she hesitated as she reached the door, turning back for a moment. "What kind of ship do you have?"

"It's Nubian."

Padmé nodded. "Go to Watto's Parts in the merchant district," she advised them. "He'll try to cheat you, but they're one of the only places with Nubian around here. In better condition than most," she said, a note of pride in her voice, because it was the truth, and not by any effort made by Watto.

"Thank you," said Eylon, smiling at her. "Be careful out there."

"Don't worry about me, I know these streets pretty well. You probably need to be more careful than I do."

Eylon pushed her hood back over her head and winked. Padmé smiled, then opened the door a crack. Satisfied that there was no ambush awaiting her, she stepped out into the alleyway.