Chapter 10: Two Worlds Apart

Anakin walked with Padme through the street, gently holding her hand. The special intuition he had allowed him to know how to act around this special woman. At last in his mind she was special. But that was all that was needed. He led her towards the walls of the Mos Eisely, their hand touching but at the same time never really touching. She was no way in a frame of mind to be able to give herself fully over to trust, although she was taking a gamble.

How would it be to be a slave? Even as he talked to her and she made small and hesitant remarks, his mind wandered to that. What would it be like to know you had no control over your destiny? It was common knowledge that the slaves of the Hutt Families were implanted with microchips that if one got too far away from their masters it would signal a detonation. Or, as he liked to say, 'Blow you up. Boom!'

The approached the wall and stopped there, looking at the less then most well fortified wall. Many places were falling into disrepair, with constant monthly attacks from Tusken Raiders being more and more brutal.

"One day," he said, waving past it, "I'll no longer see this wall. I'll be long gone. One day I'll be a Jedi and I'll free all the slaves."

"Why?" she asked, glancing down at him. She was a tiny taller than he was and so he had to look up.

"No one should ever live as a slave to another," he said, looking at the dark figure that the moons lit in his mind an appropriate light.

A few seconds passed before she spoke. "Are you just saying that to impress me?" she asked, "Or do you really mean that."

He blinked at her and looked over at the walls. It was one of those questions that no matter what he said, he knew she would believe it to be whatever she wanted it to be. No matter, he would just tell the truth.

"Honestly," he said, "I can't imagine being a slave under the heel of someone else. I'm a Skywalker, not a simple designation. I am meant for more and I'd like to believe we all are. Call it wishful thinking if you want, but I feel that way."

"My name is Padme Nuberrie," she said slowly. "I'm from Naboo or so I am told. My family was hit by pirates. I've heard that the name means 'Desert Flower'. Although I don't know if it's true. I have long since learned that dreams are best not said out loud."

Anakin looked at her and waited for her to continue. But she said nothing. Not a single word. But, he didn't give up. That was not his way.

"And what are your dreams?" he asked.

"I dream that...no, I won't say."

"Come on," he pressed, "Tell me, it'll be our secret."

"No," she shook her head, "I won't. Not that I don't trust you...but..."

"I understand," he said, deciding to let the matter rest.

A few minutes of silence passed as they stood there and watched the stars above. But, as with all things, it couldn't last forever. At long last he turned her around and began to walk back to her place.

"Why?" she asked as they walked.

"Why what?" he asked, although he assumed what she was referring to.

"Why are you showing me any interest?" she asked, "Are you looking for a quick fix? Because...I...well, I wouldn't say no, but I'm not that type of person. Even as a slave."

He frowned. Was that really what she thought? If so, she had the wrong idea entirely.

"I do find you an interesting person," he said, "And I find I am liking you the longer we are together. And no, I'm not looking for anything like that. One day...maybe. But today is not that day."

She contemplated it for a second and slowly nodded. And while she didn't say anything, the distance between them closed ever so slightly and her hand gripped his in a tiny degree of desire. He nodded inwardly at the progress. It would take time, but he had time.

Blaster fire rang out through Sundari as Death Watch troopers overpowered the Security Forces of the city. Mandalorian Security Forces were equipped with force fields that were great when facing riots with sticks and stones. But what was being fired at the could break their bones. Within minutes they had all but taken over the city, and Satine was forced to watch as Panaka and his second, Pre Vizla strode into the Throne Room of the Palace, the guards moving before her and shielding her with their bodies. But, they were quickly overcome by Death Watch troopers that came through the open windows near the ceiling.

"Duchess Satine Kwaryz," Panaka smirked. Although she couldn't see his face because of the helmet he wore, his voice dripped contempt as he strode forward.

"Egra Panaka," Satine said, leaving her hands laid on the arm rests of her chair and not giving him any reason to take offense, "You are come to surrender then? Very well. I accept it."

Panaka laughed, but it was without mirth. "I had heard you were a feisty one," he said, "And I had always wondered if the rumors were true. Unfortunately for you, I come not to surrender. But I come to place you under arrest."

Satine raised an imperious eyebrow. "And what crime have I done?" she asked, "I recall that I am legal and duly elected head of this people. Where can I-"

"Allowing Mandalore to lose its warrior ways was bad enough," he said, cutting her off with a flourish of his hand, "Allowing it to become soft was crime enough. But to allow Jedi here? You have only compounded your errors, Duchess. And by this time tomorrow, you shall wish you had never been born."

"I am ready for whatever things you plan for me," she said, raising her chin, "I am not afraid."

"Are you so sure?" Panaka asked, and pulling out his blaster pistol motioned for her to rise. With grace and dignity she did so, and was soon surrounded by Death Watch that glided down to the ground and electro-cuffed her hands behind her back. At least she didn't grovel.

"Take her to the Maximum Security Facility in the Southwestern Quadrant of the city," Vizla ordered and he watched her being taken away.

Panaka stepped up to the throne and sat down in it. Oh, it felt good! This had been a moment he had looked for. And look! The sky was perfect. Clearly that was sign enough he was meant to be here in this seat. But, he did not wait.

"I want those Jedi found," he ordered Vizla, "They must not contact their Republic. We need time to get those clones here."

"They will be executed my lord," Pre Vizla said and turning on his heal head out to personally hunt down the Jedi.