Author's Note: Hey everyone! I'm back with a new chapter – hope you enjoy! I'm taking some creative license here, so please bear with me as the story slowly reveals itself. Those of you who have been submitting regular reviews – I am honored by your support. Thanks for everything!
PLAUU – LOCATION UNKNOWN
"I believe it is time you reveal yourself to our beloved Senator," the dark figure murmured, his transparent image shimmering hauntingly.
"Yes, my Master," the shadow agreed. He continued to kneel obediently, his head bowed respectfully as he sensed that his Master had more to say.
"Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen."
With that eerie statement, the transmission went dead.
00000
She was alone. She could sense it.
Anakin, where are you?
Her head throbbed dully as she pried her eyes open. She slowly turned her head and took in her surroundings suspiciously. The opulent room seemed to be outfitted for comfort from floor to ceiling. Plush burgundy drapes covered the tall windows, the hem sweeping across floors that sparkled from a fresh polish. Several sets of doors blended in seamlessly on the far wall, and her eyes lingered on them longingly.
She put a hand to her head, the simple motion causing her a minor fissure of pain. Returning the appendage to its resting place on her stomach, she realized she was lying on a large bed, the soft sheets soothing her aching body. Ignoring her inner wish for further rest, she raised her head and paused for a moment to see if it would spin. When it didn't, she sighed in relief and swung her legs over the edge.
With a start, she took in her new garments. She was now swathed in a deep purple gown, the material sliding over her body with a fluid grace. She staggered to the gilded mirror and gasped as she saw that her hair had been restyled into lazy ringlets, jeweled combs tucked gently behind her ears. She spun away from the reflection in horror and hurried to the wall, desperate to find the door that might lead out of this nightmare. Pushing on the access panel frantically, she watched it slide open to reveal an enormous closet.
Her hands flew up to her mouth as she took in the vast number of gowns, all exquisitely tailored just for her. She began to pull them off the rack, watching as they formed pools of vivid color on the ground.
Where is my jumpsuit? My cloak? They must be here!
But her search proved fruitless. With a renewed surge of anger, she left the closet and jabbed at the next door. It slid open silently to an adjoining 'fresher. The floor tiles were a shiny silver material, the sink basin and the bathing chamber encased in a glistening blue. In any other situation, she would have called it beautiful.
But at this moment it was simply an extension of her prison.
She pushed that thought away and rushed towards the next door, crying out in frustration as she came face-to-face with a shoe closet. She picked up one of the dainty shoes, letting it tumble from her hands when she noticed it was exactly her size.
Turning away, she came to a stop in front of her last hope, fear pooling in her stomach. With a trembling finger, she punched in the 'open' command and nearly sobbed with relief when it revealed a long corridor. Without hesitation, she began to run. Her feet pounded the cold floor as her skirts billowed around her noiselessly.
She slowed to a stop when she saw the reinforced door ahead of her. Searching for a possible control panel, she ran her fingers along the seams carefully. Finding nothing, she leaned her forehead against the metallic surface and let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Spinning on her heel, she began to retrace her steps and suddenly noticed a door she had missed during her desperate flight.
"Padme... Please..."
She could hear Anakin clearly and her legs threatened to crumple from the wave of emotion that crashed over her. My love, I'm coming! In her haste, it took three tries before she finally pressed the right key to open the door. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took in the pitch black area it revealed. Driven by a certainty that she was closing in on her husband, her step was sure as she quietly slipped through the doorway and barely flinched it slammed shut behind her.
Blindly, she fumbled for some sort of a light switch and began to panic when her fingers only met smooth walls. There didn't even seem to be a control panel for the door. Anywhere.
I'm trapped.
Refusing to give in to her mounting distress, she continued to explore the walls. Her fingers finally met a thick piece of fabric and she fingered it curiously, noting its soft texture. She frowned as she sensed the pulsing electricity that seemed to flow from behind it and backed away instinctively.
The hair at the base of her neck fluttered as a cold chill infiltrated the room. Suddenly, there was a flash of blinding light and she closed her eyes in defense. Moments later, she opened them and gasped as she took in the room before her, brilliantly illuminated by hundreds of candles. A large banquet table stretched end to end, the middle teeming with food and drink. The far wall was decorated with murals of eternal battles, the violent scenes only interrupted by a few clouded windows. She turned to study the wall behind her, shivering at the sight of the oppressive black material that blanketed the vertical surface.
"Good evening, Milady," a voice hissed. "You look as lovely in that gown as I pictured. Please, have a seat."
She jumped, searching desperately for the speaker's origin but finding the room empty.
Bringing up her chin, she straightened her spine and spat, "No."
She cried out in shock as a mist swirled forth from the floor and wound around her ankles. Gently but firmly, it moved her forward until she was standing in front of an elegant chair. It then slithered up her body and she could feel building pressure bearing down on her shoulders. With a shout of outrage, she gave up and sank to the cushioned seat, tucking her feet behind the chair legs protectively.
"Why must you make it so difficult?" the voice continued, sounding weary. "You must know I hate treating you this way."
"Oh yes," Padme replied, her words bitter. "I could tell by the way you shot me with a stun blaster."
"An unfortunate event, perpetrated by one of my guards. He will not be harming you again, I assure you. He has been... dealt with, you might say."
She gasped as the surface of the middle window cleared, revealing a man's body hanging crookedly from a jagged spike. His head hung lifelessly to the side, the skin blackened and burned. Blood still dripped from the gash in his neck.
She swallowed thickly as the window once again clouded over, blocking the disturbing image from view. She shook her head in disgust.
"Oh dear. I can see that you do not approve," he purred, the words seeming to come inches from her ear. She leaned away, her eyes scanning the dark corners nervously. But still, for all intents and purposes, she appeared to be alone.
"Of course I don't," she replied indignantly.
"I must confess - that does not come as a surprise to me. After all, you are Senator Amidala, champion of peace."
Her blood chilled as she heard the evil voice speak her true name.
He knows who I am. He knows!
"Yes, I know who you are. Of course I know," the voice confirmed, amused.
"Then you should know my kidnapping will bring swift retribution," she managed, trying to put strength and determination into her words as she struggled to shield her thoughts.
"Oh my dear, I think not." And with that, the black fabric was stripped away to reveal a live holograph of the bodies of three Jedi, lying limply on the stone ground in some sort of chamber.
"What have you done to them?" she gasped. She struggled to stand, but invisible ropes held her in place.
"I have not laid a finger on your precious Jedi," the voice seethed as if angered by her outburst. "This is simply the price they pay for relying strictly on the Light side of the Force."
"What?" she asked, horrified. Her eyes never left the transparent image of the three men - until she became aware of a cloaked figure entering the room - then her gaze was truly trapped.
She watched as it halted next to her and reached out a pale hand, tracing a fingernail down the side of her face. Finally, the figure retreated and crossed to the other side of the table. Reaching up, it lowered the hood of the dark cloak and Padme reeled in horror.
Anakin's eyes were staring back at her.
No, she corrected herself firmly as she stared sightlessly at the table before her. Just a cruel similarity.
But those eyes... So similar to Anakin's, as blue as her adored Nubian Lakes. Yet these eyes were dead, no emotion visible behind them except for anger and misery.
She forced her gaze back to the disturbing sight and took in the rest of her captor's appearance, trying desperately to recall if she'd seen him anywhere. Dark hair curled around his face, his skin tanned from prolonged exposure to the elements. He was tall and lean, inherent power conveyed by the pace of his sleek gait. She supposed he would be considered handsome if it weren't for the aura of evil that seemed to surround him. And those eyes. She shivered as she once again noticed how similar they were to Anakin's. As he noticed her distaste, a flash of rage passed through his face before he suppressed it.
And it came to her.
"You were there!" she cried. "At the Arena! You were one of the Avoiders in that blasted pile. Your - your eyes were red - like fire. Like blood."
He smiled, but the expression was one of malevolence. He nodded slowly, pleased that she had placed him.
"Yes, we made quite a connection, didn't we? But please, you must call me Jarrick," he said silkily as he poured himself a glass of wine. "I am quite ecstatic that you've remembered me. How I wanted to introduce myself in that Arena! But you see, I knew the time wasn't right - I needed for you to come to me. So, I simply allowed you to slip through my grasp temporarily. Oh, where are my manners? Would you care for something to drink?"
As if they were partners at a Galaxy dinner gala, he tilted the golden bottle towards her politely. She shook her head emphatically and watched as he returned it to its place on the table.
"I didn't come to you, as you so eloquently put it," she interjected, scorn lacing the statement. "I was coming after the Jedi." She was careful to keep the reference casual, hoping against hope he didn't know her strong feelings about the three men whose fate he held in his hands.
"You are still denying your destiny then?" he asked mildly, swirling a finger in his wine before bringing it to his lips. Padme looked away disgustedly as he caught a drop on his tongue.
"I do not refuse my destiny," she replied, turning fierce brown eyes on him. "I merely know that it does not reside with anything evil."
There was a long pause while he studied a spot over her shoulder. Then, he brought his gaze back to her, his eyes once again glowing red as he whispered:
"We shall see."
