A/N: I'll reply to the reviews on the last chapter tomorrow, I promise! I'm updating super early, I know, but my hen do/bachelorette party is this weekend and I'm going away with some friends. There won't be any time before then to edit so here we are!

Warning! This chapter features graphic violence, mentions of torture and graphic character death.

Padme had been her more than her fair share of traumatic life experiences. In fact, she'd probably been through a couple of people's share by now. She'd lost her both her parents in a violent car accident, been passed through the foster care system, separated from her sister to different homes and temporary families until a distant auntie on her mother's side offered to take them in. That had only lasted until they turned eighteen and were promptly shown the door. It'd been hell but it was preferable to the things she'd seen in those foster homes. When she'd joined the force, it'd felt like finding a new family – a real family. Dorme had been her sister as much as Sola was and suddenly it was like the tide of her life had turned finally only to lose her new sister to a bloody end. She'd been raped and abused by a man who ruined lives every single day and somehow, somehow, Padme survived. She'd found courage and clung to it like armour and so far, despite everything, she'd managed to keep it.

Until now.

As Padme blinked up at Rush Clovis' looming face above her she felt something she'd never felt once in her entire life – not even in her weakest, most broken moments.

Her resilience completely deserted her.

And the vicious smile that widened above her told her that he knew it.

"What?" He drawled cruelly, "not so feisty anymore?" Suddenly, Clovis grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her upwards so tightly that Padme felt some of it tear out at the roots, making her cry out. "What's the matter, Amidala? Don't like being back here in your old clothes? Don't like being back under my thumb?" His free hand smacked her hard on the cheek, no doubt adding a new bruise to the myriad of black and blue he'd created on her body since her return.

She said nothing and Clovis released her hair with a scoff, throwing her back to the ground as if she was nothing. In his eyes, that was exactly what she was. Less than the dirt beneath his shoe. He turned as if to walk away but paused seemingly thinking better of it and delivered a brutal, unexpected kick that made her head crack against the floor as she landed. Padme winced and frowned, breathing harshly through her nose to make it passed the fresh wave of throbbing pain.

He heard and laughed gesturing at two of his men. "Tie her down."

They did as they were told, groping and grabbing at whatever parts of her they desired as they did so, wrapping rope around Padme's wrists and ankles and securing them to the newly installed bolts on the floor of Clovis' office. Put here especially for her, he'd said.

Padme didn't fight the brutes as they manhandled her body – it would have been pointless anyway, she was tied down and couldn't move. She closed her eyes and tried to block it out, letting her imagination take her mind far, far away from this place. It was difficult at first but after a few moments she could almost pretend that she was back in Anakin's apartment finishing the dinner she'd been making as if nothing had changed… As if reality hadn't come crashing through the door with violent intent. He would have come home and told her how things went with Jabba… Told her their plan had been a success and it was over. She would have told him about the baby and everything could have been perfect.

It was a beautiful dream.

Distantly, Padme heard Clovis bark an order at his underlings and she felt the sting of another backhanded smack to her cheek. "Hey!" A deep voice grunted, "Hear that? Boss wants your eyes open, bitch." Pained and tired, she did as instructed and felt the warmth of the tears her eyelashes had been holding back slip freely.

"You," she heard Clovis speak again, "go get Fifth Brother. I want to introduce Amidala here to a new friend."

She'd heard that codename before… It pulled at something in the back of her mind – Fifth Brother… Oh. She knew what that name meant. Clovis had people he used to get his answers for him from unwilling prisoners, people who were masters of torture and manipulation. She could hear the excitement in his voice, this Fifth Brother person was being brought down here to hurt her but she just couldn't bring herself to care anymore. What else could there be? She'd already been stripped and beaten, had the bullet wound in her leg aggravated, had Clovis' gun in her mouth amongst threats of it being put in other places and more forms of torture her mind was too tired and hurt to recall.

The skimpy lingerie the crime boss had dressed her up in was soiled with sweat and blood after hours of it all.

Thanks to the digital clock on the small screen of the safe Padme could tell she'd been here for just over twenty-four hours now, during which she'd been assaulted in just about every way she could fathom and so severely that the world seemed hazy… As if it was slipping away. She'd lost a lot of blood from her leg wound before arriving here and the abuse had only made things worse. Clovis had taken everything from her in his attempts to crack her; even the last shreds of her dignity. After all this time, after everything… He'd finally broken her will.

Padme's eyelids felt slightly heavier with every passing moment. It would take a while but it wasn't difficult to understand that her body was succumbing to the abuse it'd suffered and slowly beginning to shut down. I'm going to die here, she thought as more tears slid from the corner of her eyes to the floor. She didn't want to die… And knowing that she was wasn't easy to stomach. But… But if she did – when she did… It would be all over.

Clovis couldn't hurt her anymore.

She would finally be free…

It was just a flatline away.

Padme closed her eyes as a small sob shook her body.

"Ah, good, you're here," Clovis said.

She couldn't see the man he spoke to as he entered so she was forced to watch him as he sat down on his desk chair where he'd pulled it to better watch her torture. He crossed one leg over the other in an exaggerated display of leisure that would have made Padme roll her eyes in any other context. "This is Amidala." He flicked his wrist toward her, "she's a thief who stole something from me and is causing a lot of trouble. Even after my – and the boys' – generous hospitality, she's refused to give me any answers. Change her mind."

It was then that Padme got a real look at her new torturer as he stepped into her line of sight to peer down at her. He looked like a monster. His skin was grey and ashen and his body was concealed beneath a thick dark coat and matching wide-brimmed hat. Her breath caught in her throat as new fear began to curl in her stomach.

His lifeless eyes looked over every inch of her before coming to his knees by her head with a twisted, giddy smile. "My pleasure."

From the corner of her eye, Padme noticed a black bag as he pulled it open and reached inside, withdrawing a pair of pliers. The man gave her another cold smile and caressed her cheek with the instrument before trailing their cold tips up the length of her arm and to her hands. Her breath quickened in fear and though she knew what was about to happen, it was difficult to call upon the same weightless resignation she'd felt before.

From where he lounged in his chair, Clovis asked the same questions he'd been asking since her arrival. "Now, where is the phone, Amidala? And where is the Hutt bodyguard?"

Closing her eyes again, she said nothing.

The phone was with Jabba if Anakin had kept his word. And she'd rather die on this cold floor than send Clovis' men to find Anakin. They'd kill him. He didn't deserve that – she was the one who'd dragged him into this mess so the least Padme could do now was protect him from the wrath her actions had created. Even if she'd suffer for it and she would, she was going to protect Anakin with her life.

Suddenly, she felt the pliers pushed beneath the edge of her index fingernail.

"Okay then… Off we go."

And then she screamed.

Jabba stood on the white marble balcony on the upper level of the estate overlooking the courtyard, watching as Skywalker commanded the men quickly and efficiently, going over the plan of action so everyone understood what was to come. The bodyguard was standing before the men Jabba had hired both with both hands clasped behind his back, giving out orders with the ease of practised commanding officer and it was easy to see the respect the men gave him.

It made the Hutt's frown deepen. Since their meeting where this plan was discussed something had been nagging at him, whispering suspicions in his ear. The scene before his eyes now confirmed those suspicions.

The bodyguard was not who he claimed to be.

Jabba had known that the boy was lying in their meeting about his acquisition of the phone and who'd he'd gotten it from and now he assumed command over the men like it was a suit he'd been donning for years. Something wasn't right. To make matters worse, Skywalker had been an hour late for this most important day and while he'd given the valid excuse of his apartment being ransacked, he was not convinced. Young Skywalker was hiding something from him and that would not be tolerated.

Of course, in this world, Jabba understood men who kept their cards close to their chest and had secrets but he wouldn't allow men like that in his household – especially one so close to his family, his only heir. Something needed to be done about Skywalker and soon. Rotta would have to learn to cope without him.

"Dad?" The voice of his disappointing son caught Jabba's attention. As if the idiot had heard his thoughts, the boy appeared in the doorway as the kingpin turned around.

"What?" He spoke quietly, voice still pained after so much talking with Skywalker. "We're busy making preparations – there's no time for your stupid problems." Had he knocked another girl up somewhere and needed money to take care of it? Had he lost another small fortune in a wager? Jabba had no energy for it today. These things could wait until Clovis was dealt with.

The boy seemed to hesitate a moment before stepping further into the room. "I want to come with you. I want this chance to prove myself. Let me be there when you crush him."

It was brave of him to show his face in here and ask. Jabba felt the smallest twinge of pride for his son for the first time. "No." He rasped. "You'll stay here with your mother and sisters."

"What?" The boy cried. "But – but dad! Tolas was my brother, I want to avenge him as much as you do. It's my right!"

"Rotta!" Jabba snarled as loudly as his vocal cords were capable of. "You're the heir of this family – my only living son. What would happen if Clovis kills us too? Our name and house would fall and what would happen to your mother and sisters? Stop being so selfish and think of the family. Get out of my sight."

He turned his back on the boy and looked down as the men prepared themselves. Guns and ammunition were being handed out in spades; Jabba had spared no expense for this. He could hear Rotta's footsteps as he made his way out of the room and sighed. If only Tolas had lived...

But he hadn't lived because Rush Clovis had his men kill Jabba's boy. That was what this was about. The Hutt name would live on through Rotta and his future children but Clovis' name would not.

Jabba's narrow eyes landed on Anakin again and lingered. Too much about him was unknown, he was too shrouded in mystery and his actions of late had raised too many red flags to be ignored. That was that, then. His decision was made.

When all was said and done, when Clovis and his brood were dead, Anakin would join them.

She'd been alone for a while but she wasn't sure how long. Padme didn't have the strength to lift her gaze to the safe's screen again. It was strangely quiet for once as she lay bleeding on Clovis' office floor. Her right hand was throbbing with pain as was the back of her head where Clovis had made her hit it, her leg ached beyond what she'd thought was possible and her ribs hurt from where she'd been kicked repeatedly. It all blended together into one giant ache. Initially, it'd been agony but slowly it everything was growing numb… As if her body's pain receptors had been shredded from overuse and given up.

They weren't alone in that.

Despite everything Clovis, his men and his torturer had done to her, she hadn't told them anything. It was her one victory over him… Padme would take her secrets to the grave where he couldn't touch her anymore. Anakin would be safe… He could have a life without the trouble she'd brought him. Maybe he'd even heed her words and get out while he still could.

It could be her parting gift to him…

With what felt like every ounce of her strength, Padme peeled open her eyes and lifted her bloodied hand, Clovis' friend had cut her wrists free for better access, and brought it to her stomach, smearing the warmth of her blood across the skin. Everything she was suffering, her pain, her fear, her inevitable death… The baby suffered it all too. The guilt that brought her was crushing. How much had it felt? She'd been kicked – did that hurt it? Oh god, she hoped it didn't suffer.

"I'm sorry…" Padme whispered hoarsely and pressed her palm to her stomach. "I would have liked to meet you…"

Her voice trailed off and she felt tears fill her eyes again. What might it have been? She'd thought about that once or twice through the torture, letting her mind get lost in beautiful imaginings that would never come to pass. She could see a perfect little blue-eyed boy, see his smile, hear his laugh… It made her heart ache beyond words. He didn't even have a chance.

Now, Clovis really had taken everything from her.

Her freedom.

Her value.

Her purpose.

Her body.

Her baby.

Her life.

The office door swung open suddenly as her head began to tilt to the side and consciousness was fading. Her small, fleeting bubble of serenity was burst. It was more of the same, no doubt, everything she'd suffered to be repeated until her body simply gave up. She let her eyes fall shut again in resignation until a small female voice broke through the silence.

"Please let me go! Please. I – I'll be good, I promise, just – just please don't."

At that, Padme's eyes snapped open again and she found the strength to push herself up on her forearms, watching on in horror as Clovis' marched back into the room with his torturer and a trembling Ahsoka.

No, no, not her! Please, not her.

Clovis wore a smug grin as he looked down into Padme's eyes. "I hope you enjoyed your little rest, Amidala. I thought while you're here it would be fun to reunite you with an old friend."

The shaking girl met her eyes and she watched her young face crumble. "Amidala? Oh, Amidala, I'm so sorry…"

Her heart twisted in her chest but she couldn't risk saying anything.

"Still not feeling talkative, hmm?" Clovis drawled. "Well, I'm going to see if we can't change your mind." With that, he gave his friend a nod and the monster shoved Ahsoka to the floor. The young girl gasped and landed on her hands and knees but the man gave her no time to recover, bringing down his boot into her spine roughly, making her cry out in pain and terror.

Padme's chest filled with rage and guilt as she watched the assault, helpless against the ropes that held the lower half of her body down. Why was this happening? Hadn't he taken enough from her?

"Where did you hide the phone, Amidala?" Clovis hissed. "Where is the goddamned bodyguard?"

She raised her eyes from Ahsoka's suffering to meet his and managed to snarl. "Go to hell, Rush."

Clovis smirked and gave a half-nod to Fifth Brother who brought down a series of swift and painful kicks to Ahsoka's ribs as she screamed.

"Stop!" Padme cried, "stop it! She has nothing to do with this!"

He didn't blink. "Then give me my information."

What was she supposed to do? She couldn't tell them about Anakin; it would be as good as pulling the trigger on him herself. But something had to give – she couldn't let Ahsoka die for her mistakes. Maybe Anakin had come through and Jabba was preparing an attack against Clovis to get retribution? If that was true, then maybe she could tell Clovis something, just a little something to secure mercy for Ahsoka. She wouldn't tell him where Anakin had gone or that he was the one who'd delivered the phone to Jabba. He had to be safe.

"Okay! Okay!" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'll tell you – just leave her alone!"

"Well? I'm waiting?" Clovis sat back down in his seat as Padme's mouth opened and then shut again. Had she bought Anakin enough time? If she hadn't and she told Clovis about the phone, he might gather a counterattack against the Hutts too quickly. A gang war would still happen but not the way they'd planned… What if he gets caught in the middle of it? He could die. No, no she had to believe in him and that he'd been successful.

Her hesitation earned Ahsoka another nasty kick to the ribs and Padme heard a sickening crack followed by Ahsoka's howl of agony.

She swallowed. "I – the bodyguard only helped me get out of the mansion. I don't know him that well. But I… I gave the phone to Jabba's son and told him everything. Which means it's likely Jabba knows everything. You're dead, Clovis."

He roared in anger and threw himself out of his chair, pulling the dangerously sharp blade strapped to his leg free of its holster and fell to one knee beside Padme, pointing it at her face. "Don't get smug with me, you whore!" His fist found her hair again and tugged, forcing her head back and exposing her throat. "I should just slit your throat now and get it over with! Or maybe I should slice up that pretty face?" He slid the edge of the blade along her shoulder, cutting the skin until Padme shrieked. He released her and stood straight once more. "Get the girl on her feet."

Her own pain forgotten, Padme's eyes widened. "Wait – wait! I gave you what you wanted, I told you the truth!"

Tears wet Ahsoka's cheeks as she was dragged to her feet once more. "Amidala," she whimpered, "please…"

She reached down and began pulling at the rope, it was sloppily done and she was sure she could pull it loose enough, but there was no time. "Leave her alone! Please!"

Clovis looked over his shoulder at Padme as he pressed the bloody blade against Ahsoka's throat and just as she got one part of the rope loose enough to slide her foot out, he sliced across the girl's throat in one clean motion.

Padme screamed and a moment later Ahsoka fell limp in the man's arms, eyes lifeless as blood spilled its way down her throat. Clovis' man dropped her body to the floor with a humoured grunt and leaned back against the desk. She couldn't breathe. She – Ahsoka… She'd promised she was going to make Clovis pay! Broken sobs tore through Padme's body as she looked down at the young girl boneless on the floor. It wasn't fair – it wasn't fair! This was all her fault. She should have protected Ahsoka; she should have taken her away with them at the party!

Suddenly, Clovis pulled at her hair and pressed the blade against Padme's throat again. She felt the warm smear of Ahsoka's blood against her skin and mustered every ounce of hatred she felt toward Clovis into her eyes. "Alright, slut, your turn." He glared back at her.

Just as he began to apply pressure against the blade to her skin, the office door swung open and Padme recognised one of the men who'd abducted her from Anakin's apartment. He was panting and sweating, panicked by something. "Sir! Sorry to interrupt but we – we're under attack!"

Clovis reeled and stood, releasing her. "What?"

"It's the Hutts, sir! They're here. And they're armed. Heavily."

"Fuck!" He cried. "Damn it! Okay. You," he pointed at the man in the doorway, "round everyone up and call for my car! Get Emily and the children safely inside. And You!" Clovis' finger pointed to his friend. "Kill the whore and make it hurt."

With that, he stormed from the room leaving Padme alone with her torturer.

Clovis couldn't believe how quickly everything had turned to shit.

His outside guards were all dead and the sounds of screams and bullets rang around the mansion from every direction. A quick way out was through the kitchen and he tore open the service door before freezing and gasping. It'd been a massacre. Bodies and blood were everywhere. Slamming the door shut, Rush bolted toward the stairs. Maybe there was still some security up there he could rely upon to –

He reached the top and heard the wail of a female voice. "Please! Jabba, I don't know what this is about but please don't do this!" Emily! Alarm rang in his mind and he felt himself beginning to sweat. Suddenly, her voice rose in pitch and desperation, "Jabba! Please, not the children!"

Two shots sounded and Clovis fell to his knees.

Fuck you, Jabba.

Rage made him see red and as he stood straight again he heard the scream of his wife and another shot.

He had to get out of here.

Turning on his heel, he began to run. He shouldn't have stopped at Tolas. He should have killed every fucking Hutt in this city and had done with it! Still reeling from the loss of Emily and their children, Clovis barged back into his office. There was no other option now, he'd have to use the torturer as protection until he could get in a car and get the hell away from here.

Clovis paused two steps into his office. He'd been expecting to see Amidala sprawled out, dead, and preferably in a pool of her own blood not his torturer laid out in exactly that way.

The door slammed shut behind him and only then did it occur to him that Amidala wasn't tied to the floor any longer.

Something hard slammed into the back of his head, sending Clovis flying to the floor right beside the body of the young whore. Blood drenched his hands and shirt but he didn't have a moment to feel disgusted before Amidala was on him, surprising him with a strength he'd had no idea she possessed. Somehow, she'd gotten a hold of one of Fifth Brother's blades and brought it slamming down, intending to pierce his skin, but he was faster, grabbing at her wrists to keep her attack away.

Thinking fast, he clawed at her face, digging his blunt nails into the delicate flesh of her cheek and dragging, leaving angry red trails in his wake. She hissed but endured to his horror and wrestled her wrist free enough to point the sharp tip of the knife to his throat making Clovis freeze. For the first time, he looked into her dark eyes properly and felt fear coil in his stomach. They were glazed over slightly but full of rage and danger.

"Stay still," she hissed, "you're not going anywhere."

"You crazy cunt!" Clovis bared his teeth at her. It would be so easy to reach up and push her body off him but if he'd learned anything about her it was how fast she was. One slip up and she'd slit his fucking throat. So he stayed still and settled for glaring. "Do you really think you're getting out of here alive? If Jabba will kill my damned kitchen staff, he'll kill the sluts like you down here too. You don't have a chance."

"I'm not afraid to die." She muttered quietly. Then, without hesitation, she brought the blade down hard into his chest. Clovis gurgled on blood and panicked.

"That was for Ahsoka," Padme murmured and closed her tired eyes for a moment, sickened at the spray of his blood on her face. Fury and revenge drove her actions, guided her brain and locked away any mercy or logic. For once, she was ruled by her emotions and it felt freeing. Her body was fuelled by pure adrenaline and part of her worried about what would happen when it ran out. For now though, there was something more important occupying Padme's thoughts.

She didn't think anymore, focussing on everything Clovis had done to her, every rape, every beating, every one of the girls whose lives he ruined… Dorme, Ahsoka, her child… This man had singlehandedly ruined her life in every imaginable way. Now he was going to pay for it. Padme brought the knife down again which made him scream, a bloody howl of pain the darker parts of her savoured. "That was for Dorme."

When the knife pierced his heart he barely grunted. It wasn't the first time she'd watched the life drain from someone's eyes but it was the first time it'd felt like freedom. Her voice trembled as she spoke barely above a whisper, the words tumbling from between her lips, "and this… This is for me."

A moment passed and Rush Clovis was dead.

She took a long, steadying breath and rolled off of the corpse.

Just like she thought, the adrenaline was beginning to fade and her limbs were getting heavier and heavier. Clovis was right about one thing, if she stayed here, she would die whether from blood loss or Jabba's men. But if she got out… She could have a chance. But how?

She still had Clovis' blade but that wasn't enough. But what…? Yes! His Glock! It took more effort than it would have any other time to roll his body over enough to spot the black gun sitting in the holster. Yes! The moment she had it in her hand, she'd be a lot safer and then –

The office door swung open and suddenly Padme was face to face with someone she'd never imagined she would be.

The king of the Hutt clan himself.

Jabba.

The overweight, bald man stepped into the room and looked between Clovis' corpse and Padme with an expression of profound confusion and surprise. And then, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "You. Did you do this?"

She nodded and then paled as two Hutt men stepped into the room from behind their leader. The first, she didn't recognise but the second…

Anakin.

The moment their eyes met, Jabba spoke again, quiet and rasping, "I don't know what happened in here. I'm sure you had your reasons for killing him… But you've robbed me of my revenge." An edge of authority hardened his tone. "Kit. Anakin."

Wordlessly, both men aimed their already drawn guns at her.

The betrayal hit Padme harder than she could have possibly imagined as she looked into the barrel of the gun Anakin had aimed at her. His face was impassive, expressionless, nothing like the man she thought she'd known.

How could she have been so stupid?

"Hold," Jabba ordered quietly. He drew his own gun and aimed it at Padme's head. "I'll take this one. Killing her is as close as I'll get to killing Clovis now."

This was it. This was the end. She was dead and she knew it. But maybe – maybe if she was fast, Padme could take Jabba out with her. Maybe she could end both heads of the underworld families before she died. There was nothing left to lose so she scrambled forward and reached for Clovis' gun, her palm closed around it –

But she was too late.

The shot was fired before she pulled it free.