Author Note: Here we go, the sequel to 'The Ties That Bind Us'. I hope you like it. Sorry it took me so long to post, but I had a bad case of writers block for a while. I have written the first few chapters in rough though now, so even if it happens again, I can still post a few more chapters.

So basically this is what you need to know so far. It is a year after the final chapter of the prequel, or five years after the death of the Emperor, if you wanna measure it like that. There are now 4 Jedi Masters, Anakin, Padme, Obi-Wan and Anakin, 8 Jedi Knights, and 10 padawans. Only one Jedi knight and Yoda don't have a padawan because the Jedi knight can't be trusted yet, and Yoda is still recruiting more and doesn't have the time.

I think thats all you need to know. The rest is explained in the story. Enjoy! Oh and please review like you did last time, It was great to hear from so many of you, and some of your ideas really helped.

oOo

"The Republic will still not co-operate?"

"No sir. They say she may be valuable to them, but the price is just not worth it. It is too high."

"Well then lets make them a little more desperate shall we. Double the pain. Maybe her screams will bring her husband running. Then we will have two to barter with."

Padme could hear every word as the two clones talked outside her cell. SHe sighed and shuffled further into a corner, wishing she could just curl up and die.

She had been locked up and tortured for at least a year now, after carelessly trusting her clone troops. Slowly over time, the clones had been moving away from the Republic and joining a group known as the Rogues. The rogues were a band of rogue clones that wanted to see the Emperor return to the throne of the Empire, and they would stop at nothing to ensure that happened.

The other Jedi had warned her this would happen, but she had trusted her clones never to turn against her. She treated them fairly and with more respect than any of the others got from their leaders, because she would always believe the good in people until at last she was forced to see otherwise.

"Such a trait should be a great gift, not a terrible curse," Obi-Wan would often say.

Now Padme could see that she had been wrong. Her clones, including Commander Logan, whom she had worked with before and built up a strong friendship with, had viciously turned on her one evening and locked her up in a secret building in Coruscant's under levels.

There was the sound of bolts unlocking and the door opened. Padme automatically tensed up, knowing what was coming next. And as regular as clockwork, two clones came in, dragging her to her feet and out into an adjacent room that had a cold hard table in the centre, surrounded by hundreds of menacing pieces of equipment.

She was unceremoniously thrown on it and her ankles and wrists were roughly shackled so tight that she couldn't move at all. Then she felt the familiar sting of a needle in her arm and suddenly her whole body felt like it had burst into flames.

She cried out in pain as the poison slowly worked its way through her bloodstream, causing her more pain this time than it ever had before. She writhed in agony, straining desperately against the shackles than cruelly trapped her in this nightmare.

When at last it seemed like she could take no more, she felt the welcome sting of another needle that delivered the antidote.

She began to breath easier and more evenly as the pain eased away and she couldn't help but sigh with relief when she was thrown back into her dark cell. The darkness and silence seemed to ease her pain.

Padme had no idea why they persistently tortured her. It wasn't to extract information because they hadn't demanded the answer to any questions, apart from her name and rank as a Jedi.

It seemed that the reason was to try and force the Republic to give in to the Rogue's demands. They knew that Padme was a popular and very important woman throughout the Galaxy, and so, by kidnapping and torturing her, they thought the Republic would bend over backwards to ensure her safe return.

However they hadn't bargained on Padme's courage or strength. Nor had they bargained on the Republic's stubbornness to submit to the demands of a few clones who had named themselves after Sith Lords. Padme had met Malus on several occasions and had come to the firm conclusion that she was, although more deadly, alot more lenient than the clone, if that was possible for a Sith Lord.

She knew the clones were impressed with her resilence, but she also knew that she could not last much longer either. She was only 32, but the constant torturing had badly weakened and drained the young Jedi Master and former Sith Lord. She was no longer able to stand up un-aided and spent most of her time slumped in a corner of her cell. It had become her favourite corner and even if she had been able to move, she doubted she would come out of it anyway. It was the one place that she felt safe and secure, in the shadows of the corner.

How did it come to this? She often wondered to herself. I have convinced myself that the corner is a safe place when it is no safer than the rest of the cell. If I don't get out of here soon, I shall either go completely mad, or I shall die alone and afraid.

However, she refused to let the clones know how she felt and refused to let them think they were winning. During the harshest hours she would think of her family, wondering what they were doing at that very moment in time.

Probably thinking up some dramatic but hopeless plan to rescue me, knowing Anakin. He's proabably come up with so many plans to get me out, that he's driven everyone else mad, and then when he finally decides on the best plan to use, it will all go wrong anyway and he'll have to improvise. Anakin's not very good at improvising. He's rash and careless.

Little did Padme know how right she was.