Chapter Two

"The Empire was not what Palpatine had promised it would be. He promised the people order, a free society, and the end of all that had corrupted and destroyed the lost ideals of the Old Republic. Instead, he had imposed the rule of a few over the many. He ruled over everything with his personally appointed Regional Governors reporting directly to him. He had rendered the Imperial Senate, the real voice of the people, immobile, while occasionally throwing them some sort of issue to debate in order to assure them of their importance. And the Senate did not object.

"It was not until years later that the Senate realized its foolishness. And it was too late. Palpatine appeared to have won."

--From the writings of Pooja Lydonia, Senator of Naboo

Pooja gave herself one last look over within the mirror of the women's powder room, just a small distance away from the Senate chamber. Her blue Senatorial gown draped over her small figure very well, making her appear authoritative and imposing. The large headdress, with its long, fragile blue and white beaded strings, also added to the stern visage she had sought to create.

The past two days had nearly been unbearable. Half of the Senate was in an uproar over the Emperor's abrupt summoning and seemed to think that informing the Senator of his homeworld was the most expedient thing to do. As a result, she had been nearly besieged with calls, but Pooja had only taken a few, mostly from those whom she served with on the Emergency Relief Committee.

Perhaps the most agonizing call she had taken was the one from Bail Organa. It had only been due to her extensive training that she had not recoiled in horror at his pale, anguished expression…

"Bail," she said softly, struggling to keep her tears from blurring her eyesight, "I am so sorry. We all have felt her loss very deeply here." She trailed off, unable and unwilling to say more. To ramble on with ineffectual words would only be an insult to Bail's loss.

"Thank you Pooja," he replied wearily. His dark eyes were suspiciously bright and the grey in his hair seemed far more pronounced than it normally was. He straightened and then asked briskly, "How are things there?"

She sighed and shook her head. "The entire Senate is going to pieces over this sudden meeting. Everyone is calling everyone else, trying to get information before it actually happens." She paused, and then asked hesitantly, "How is Breha?"

Bail did not answer at first. For a moment, he closed his eyes and bit his lip slightly. Finally, he answered, "I think this may kill her, Pooja. Leia was all we had." He stopped, sighing wearily. "I will not be able to arrive on Imperial Center in time for the Senate meeting, so I will be listening through the private holonet connection. Pooja," he said, perhaps even more seriously. "I will need to speak with you privately when I have arrived on-planet. It is very important."

Startled at the intensity in his voice, she quickly acquiesced.

Shaking her head inwardly, Pooja stepped back out into the chaos that was the Imperial Government, where Niaé and Meliaé were waiting patiently for her. The three walked in silence through the great corridor that circled around the massive chamber, not stopping until they reached their private Senate box.

As she settled herself carefully into her chair, Pooja noted with some amusement that she was one of the last Senators to arrive. No one wanted to be late when His Highness called them in as though they were a flock and he their shepherd, she thought a little sourly.

When she spotted the Emperor already sitting on his throne, his face mostly obscured within the confines of his black cloak, Pooja could not help but shiver. The man frightened her greatly. It was not his physical appearance and the many scars he had supposedly acquired from the Jedi's attempted assassination. It was his eyes, those two pale, sickly yellow orbs that always seemed to stare right through her, seeming to know her every secret.

It was not Emperor Palpatine who rose up to speak, as Pooja – and rest of the Senate, no doubt – expected. Instead, it was Scrye Pavish who stepped up to the podium after bowing in respect to the Emperor. He looked even more pompous than he normally did, as he wore what was obviously his best dress uniform.

"Esteemed Senators of the Galactic Empire, His Majesty Emperor Palpatine extends his thanks for your attendance on such regrettably short notice," the Major began. "You have all been called here today to hear an update on the investigation into the terrorist attacks against the Empire and the official response to these terrible atrocities."

A low murmur began to echo through the chamber and Pooja could very well imagine her colleagues thoughts. They had been summoned for this, something, while important, that could have very well waited until the next scheduled meeting, or even sent them a condensed report? No, she concluded quickly, there had to be something else in the wings, which had not yet been revealed.

Pavish either did not notice the growing talk or he ignored it. "The attack on the construction yards at Sleus Four by the Rebel Alliance was done quickly, destructively, and clearly with help from within this body of government."

The murmur very quickly rose into a roar of outrage and denial, even as Pavish continued to speak. Pooja could hear Niaé and Meliaé shifting closer to her from behind, both no doubt wary of the growing chaos. Meliaé most probably already had one hand on the blaster she had concealed within her cloak. But Pooja had other matters to distract her when Niaé spoke quietly in her ear.

"Milady, Senator Lassiter is at the entrance and requests your permission to join you."

"Let him in," she replied immediately and within moments, Corr Lassiter had settled himself into the seat just behind her right shoulder.

"I'm sorry I was late," he muttered distractedly to her. "A matter arose and had to be dealt with immediately. What is happening," he asked, "Why is Pavish speaking and not the Emperor? He called this gathering."

"Pavish has been giving an update on the Rebellion's attack at Sleus Four," Pooja replied. "He has just accused unnamed members of the Senate of aiding in the attack."

Corr did not reply in words, only shifting in his seat and listening closely to the Major's speech. But due to the growing shouts of the Senators, it was becoming more and more difficult to hear the man's words.

Pooja glanced over her shoulder at her fellow Senator. His expression conveyed nothing except polite interest in what was going on around him, but she was not fooled. Oh my friend, she thought with growing concern, what have you gotten yourself into?

"Enough."

The chaotic roar died down within seconds, everyone's gaze falling back to the podium. Major Pavish had stepped away, leaving room for another to come forth to speak.

Palpatine.

"The Major speaks the truth. The investigators have searched thoroughly and have discovered a plethora of evidence to convict many of those present here today. To this end, the Empire must respond."

The entire chamber was deathly silent. Everyone stared at him, as though mesmerized by the gaze of a great serpent.

In Pooja's eyes, the Emperor suddenly seemed much taller, no longer appearing as a fragile man stooped with age. His voice went directly into her ears, drowning out everything else, even the sound of Corr's labored breathing directly beside her.

"Due to this blatant act of treason," Palpatine continued, "We have no other choice but to transfer full authority to the Regional Governors, who have been investigated thoroughly and are found to be free of corruption. This Senate is hereby dissolved. Permanently."

A haze seemed to pass in front of Pooja's eyes at that point. How has it come down to this? She thought helplessly, this is a violation of… She stopped, beginning to run over every article, every amendment that she could recall of the Imperial Constitution, the foundation of the Empire's government. She found that she could not remember anything that prevented the Emperor from taking the step he had just taken.

Deep in thought as she was, Pooja could barely make out the whispered conversations going on from within her Senate box.

"Handmaiden… back to her apartments… in shock…"

"Of course… all right, Senator…"

"Bail warned me… target… Amidala's niece… Give her this later…"

"Milady, come, please…"

She could feel Meliaé's hands, uncharacteristically gentle, carefully guiding her out of her seat and towards the exit. Corr had already vanished from the Senate box; he was gone.

"We must go back to my apartments," Pooja whispered, struggling to master herself. Naboo could not afford to have her fall apart now. "Captain Peoly, Amarié…"

"Yes, they will be there, milady," Niaé assured her as the three of them struggled through the thick, frantic crowd.

When they finally reached their transport, Pooja nearly slumped into seat with defeat, but strove to keep what little was left of her composure for the sake of her handmaidens and the three security officers present.

This is madness, she thought silently, How will Palpatine prevent anarchy and keep control over the various star systems within the Empire? Even the Regional Governors cannot stem the tide for long.

Palpatine had to know this. Pooja knew – just as nearly any other Senator with good sense knew – that only a few of the Regional Governors had the welfare of their people at heart. Moff Panaka was famed throughout the government for his firm but fair governance, as was Moff Sygti. But there were far more that Pooja would not entrust the care of a bird to, much less the people of an entire sector. Names like Tarkin or Gorbah came to mind. More to the point, the people tolerated the corrupt Governors only with bitter reluctance and the knowledge that the Senate was still in existence. To remove it now would only cause the ranks of the Rebellion to swell.

Palpatine had weathered the final decades of the Republic, when everything had become so terrible and fraudulent, and had come out of it as an Emperor. A person had to be extremely well-aware of the moods and mindsets of people in order to manipulate so many to such a great degree. He would not move so arrogantly and without popular support unless he was certain that no one would stand firmly in his way.

What could possibly give him such certainty?

When the transport came to a halt at her quarters, Pooja was the first one off, barely pausing to wait for Niaé and Meliaé to follow. There had to be something else. Not all of the pieces were on the board.

Captain Peoly and Amarié looked up in shock when Pooja came storming in from the transport.

"Milady," the Captain started, "We saw what happened-"

"Indeed, Captain," Pooja cut him off, "Are all of our people nearby?"

He nodded. "Just as it was planned. They are waiting for your orders."

Relief swept through her. "Good. Start moving them slowly onboard without attracting too much attention," Pooja ordered. When Captain Peoly bowed hurriedly and left, she turned to Amarié.

"Amarié, besides the deeds to various apartments, what else did you find in the Senators private accounts and documents?" she inquired urgently.

The decoy looked at her, startled, but answered dutifully, "Nothing that seemed very unusual, milady. Mostly receipts from items bought or sold, as well as charitable donations."

Pooja nodded thoughtfully. "Please set up a copy of those receipts on my terminal. I'd like to look at them myself." She started to follow Amarié towards her room, but stopped when Niaé spoke.

"Milady?"

"Yes?"

Niaé stared at her, her blue eyes intense. "Before Senator Lassiter departed, he asked that I give you this." She held out a small hologram projector.

Pooja took it and looked it over carefully. After a moment, she nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Niaé." She then turned and walked into her private room.

She soon dismissed Amarié after the handmaiden had set up the terminal, as she had been instructed. When she was alone, Pooja sat down at her small desk and held up the tiny projector, activating it. Corr's blue-tinged hologram quickly sputtered into view.

"Pooja," he said, "if you are seeing this message now, then it means that things have gone badly, just as Leia Organa predicted." The Senator started in surprise.

"Oh yes, my friend," Corr continued, smiling slightly. "You are not the only one she visited before she left Imperial Center. As I was saying, things are obviously deteriorating. Which means you could be in great danger."

Corr paused for a brief moment, sighing tiredly. "Bail warned both Leia and me about this before he resigned from the Senate. He told us that Palpatine would use any excuse he could to bring Naboo's Senator down in fire. Now, I know this must be confusing for you. It certainly was for me. Bail explained that it has to do with your aunt, Senator Amidala. He said that she often stood in the way of the Emperor's plans and he was, in part, responsible for her death and that of her unborn child. Bail believed that the Emperor's hatred did not die with her, however, and had good reason to think that he wanted all those who loved her dead.

"Pooja, he asked that Leia and I keep an eye open for any elaborate plots that Palpatine could accuse you of being involved in. The growing Rebellion is the perfect excuse for him to have you tried on trumped up charges of treason. My advice is that you get away from Imperial Center as quickly as possible. I also recommend that you contact Bail. I believe that he has a great deal more to tell you, though what it could be I cannot imagine."

His mouth was set in a grim, bleak line as he began to finish his message. "I am sorry, my good friend. I apologize for being unable to help you further. May the gods smile upon you until we meet once again."

Corr's hologram gave her one last, sad smile before fading away.

Pooja was absolutely stunned, feeling as though her entire existence had been turned upside down. The Emperor had conspired to bring about Aunt Padmé's death and rain destruction on all who had loved her.

All of Naboo loved her, was her first thought, one that abruptly chilled her to her very bones. And because she was Padmé's niece, Palpatine wanted to find a way to have her executed. It was yet another attempt at avenging himself on a woman long dead.

Pooja thought about what her aunt would do if faced with such a situation. Padmé Amidala had always advocated against violence, maintaining that it truly solved nothing. She would have stood before her judges and tried to appeal to their better natures.

The consummate martyr.

But she knew that such gestures were lost on the government of the Empire, especially now without the Imperial Senate. And Pooja had the sad understanding that in these times, fighting was a necessary, and sometimes useful, tool.

And there were her people to consider. Granted, Naboo had faired relatively well under the Empire's regime, perhaps aside from the literal takeover of Keren. But they had seen many times what had happened to other worlds who had incurred the displeasure of the Emperor.

Death. Destruction. The Empire had no mercy for those who rebelled against it. Even the appearance of resistance was considered intolerable.

No, she would not take the path Aunt Padmé could very well have taken. Pooja would abandon Imperial Center and leave it to rot in its own political filth. It was time to go home. Naboo had to be warned of Palpatine's treachery.

Narrowing her eyes in determination, Pooja finally placed the projector down and began to scroll through the records on her terminal. Her course was set. She would not falter now.

Pooja ended up going through the receipts for nearly five hours. She stopped only to hear from Captain Peoly that everyone save the handmaidens, a dozen security guards, and them were now aboard the two ships that often ferried Naboo's political contingent. She then ordered Niaé, Amarié, and Meliaé to help her pack the last few things within her room. But before they began, Amarié spoke up.

"Milady, I suggest that you and I change places while we are back here."

Pooja stared at her, fighting back a wave of discomfort. She had little liking of the position of a decoy, feeling like a coward every time it was employed. "Why? I really don't think-"

"It is necessary," Meliaé chimed in, supporting her fellow handmaiden. "Several of the security guards have observed several people keeping close tabs on this apartment. They are watching you, milady, and they will most likely attempt to stop you from leaving the planet. By force, if necessary."

Pooja glanced over at Niaé, half-hoping for some sign that Meliaé was exaggerating the danger. Instead, she saw only silent, but firm support of the other woman's words.

She sighed in defeat. "Very well then," she conceded reluctantly. "I'll help you while the rest of you finish the last of the packing."

The four of them set out to work at their tasks in silence. Removing her outer robes, Pooja began brushing carefully through Amarié's thick, dark hair. She wove it into an elaborate braid that was coiled and pinned to the back of her head. She was about to move on to the make-up when Niaé's com-link beeped.

Niaé pulled it off her belt and activated it. "Yes?"

"Major Pavish is here. He asks to speak with Senator Lydonia, if it convenient."

The handmaiden paused for a moment, her blue eyes meeting Pooja's watchful gaze. It was anything but convenient, really. Amarié was not ready to receive visitors, and they could not afford to delay long enough to adequately prepare her. Still, Pooja was not in the best state to meet with the Major either. She had taken her headdress off sometime earlier in the day and her hair hung loosely down her back. The outer robes she had discarded shortly before had already been packed away.

Nevertheless, she could not refuse to see Pavish without arousing suspicion. She had no other course but to receive him, even in her slightly disheveled state.

"Very well," Niaé said obediently, both to Pooja and through the comlink. "She will meet with him in a few minutes."

Once the communication device had been switched off, she began to issue orders. "Niaé, take over for me here. Finish with the Senator's make-up while Meliaé and I deal with Major Pavish."

To her credit, Niaé quickly played along, stepping forward to take the eye shadow from her hands. "Quite right, Laraé," she replied, falling into the use of the name of Pooja's handmaiden alter ego.

With her hands free, Pooja grabbed the nearby hairbrush and ran it through her hair several times. Glancing into the mirror above her dressing table, she nodded in resignation. It would have to do.

Turning towards the door, she found Meliaé waiting for her, a plain blue cloak in hand. "Wear this, milady," she explained. "It will hide the blaster pistol." Before Pooja could protest, the handmaiden attached the holster to her belt. Deciding to save her objections until later, Pooja donned the cloak once Meliaé stepped back and then opened the door.

Scrye Pavish was standing across the room, staring out at the skyline of the city. Straightening up to her full height, Pooja discretely gestured at Meliaé to remain by the door and moved towards the man.

"Major Pavish," she greeted solemnly as he turned to her and bowed. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I was not expecting visitors at this hour."

"Yes, forgive me for disturbing you so late, milady," he said in a tone that could have charmed a nest of mynocks. "I would have come at a much more sensible time, but with the recent upheavals, there have been many demands for my attention."

I'm sure there have been, Pooja thought savagely. No doubt a coup and the dismantling of democracy requires considerable concentration.

Careful to give no hint of her vicious feelings, Pooja asked congenially, "Is there something I can do for you, Major?"

"I saw you escorted out after the meeting by two of your people and you looked ill. I thought I would come and inquire after your health."

She eyed him skeptically. What was going on here? He could have called by com at any time and found out if she was alright. What was he up to?

"I'm fine, Major, thank you," Pooja replied at last. "His Majesty's announcement was quite a shock." She stared at him hard, waiting for his reaction.

Pavish had worked with politicians for a long time; he was far too experienced to let any overt emotion show. But Pooja was only a few feet away from him and she had a clear view of his face. Even he could not totally suppress the triumph that gleamed briefly in his eyes. Pooja fought the sudden urge to fly at him in an attempt to scratch them out.

"Indeed, I'm sure it was, Milady," the man said smoothly. "But the Senate has proved itself to be a veritable nest of traitors and such a state of affairs could not be allowed to continue."

She raised an eyebrow. "I may have been in shock, Major Pavish, but I was coherent enough to notice that none of the evidence that the Emperor claimed to have was brought forth." The implication in her words was clear and he rose, predictably, to the bait.

He stared at her, heat flashing in his gaze. "Are you implying, Lady Lydonia," Pavish flared, "That His Majesty was not being truthful about the proof of the Senate's treasonous dealings?"

Pooja noted his lack of using her Senatorial title, and snapped back, "I would have you address me as Senator, Major, and what if I am questioning his honesty? I certainly would not be the first to do so!"

"This is treason!"

She swallowed and struggled to breath smoothly. She would not demean herself by sinking into a shouting match with this insufferable creature.

"Treason, you say," Pooja remarked with deliberately soft tones. "Is it treason to speak ones mind, Major? Freedom of speech is something long guarded-"

"Not to the point of sedition and disloyalty, Lady," Pavish cut her off, his dark eyes suddenly growing cold. "My true purpose in coming here was to offer you my protection against what I thought was slanderous lies and misinformation against you. But I see now that it was I who was wrong. You've thrown your lot in with the Rebels."

"I have done nothing of the sort," Pooja shot back. "Major, I thank you for your concern about my health, but I think I shall retire. And I have no need for protection as I have done nothing wrong. Good evening to you."

For several moments, Pavish did not move. His face had gone from red to white and his fists were clenched at his sides. His eyes were locked with hers as though he was attempting to stare her down. But when his eyes flickered towards something over her shoulder, Pooja knew she had won for now. Meliaé must have made her presence known.

Pavish looked back to her and then said stiffly, "We will listen to the evidence, Senator. It shall determine your guilt or innocence." He sketched a brief bow, turned on his heal, and left.

Pooja watched him leave and then turned to stare out over the city. It was as Bail and Corr had predicted. Someone was seeking to frame her for treason and if their suspicions were correct, then the Emperor must truly want her dead.

"Milady?"

She did not turn at Meliaé's tentative query. Instead, she said mechanically, "We must leave tonight. Inform the Captain."

There was a pregnant pause, as though Meliaé was waiting for something more. But when nothing else was forthcoming, the handmaiden finally murmured, "Yes, milady."

When Pooja heard the door slide shut, she turned around to stare at the room around her. She had lived in this apartment for more than a decade. She had celebrated many of her Life Days here with her friends. She had stared out the window more times than she could remember, contemplating the city before her when a particular situation in the Senate troubled her. Sometimes she would even gaze out at the Jedi Temple that lay burned, broken, and deserted off in the distance and remember what her teachers called the Jedi Temple Massacre.

Now she would leave those memories, good and bad, behind her.

Sighing quietly, Pooja walked towards the door to her bedroom. When the door opened, she found Amarié completely robed and ready to take her place, still sitting at the dressing table. Niaé stood next to her, staring at a datapad in her hand.

"Niaé," she said quickly, "You and I must get the rest of these bags on the ship. We are leaving once darkness falls."

Amarié stared at her in concern. "Milady? What happened?"

Pooja tried to smile ruefully, but did not quite succeed. "It appears, my friend, that the Emperor will be accusing me – and by extension, Naboo – of being a part of the Rebel Alliance."

Amarié gasped in shock and Niaé whirled around, her blue eyes wide.

"I know it is a mad thought," Pooja said. "But it appears that he will not be swayed. Thus, we must go home and warn Naboo and the Queen. We cannot stay here any longer."