Chapter 3: Inspiration
Padmé gasped and deactivated the holo console and swung around to face the intruder. The gently smiling face and kind eyes of an elderly man.
"They are always watching…"
Padmé felt a pang of sadness. There was something about him that reminded her of Obi-Wan Kenobi, although this man was much older than Obi-Wan, even after twenty standard years.
Seeing her discomfort, he the old man sought to soften his warning with a small grin and an introduction.
"Pardon my manners, I did not mean to intrude. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Fenrir of Corellia."
Letting down her guard, Padmé nodded and added, "I am Padmé, of…Naboo."
"Well, Padmé, it seems you have recovered well enough. When are you leaving?"
Leaving?
Padmé was hesitant to respond, but a cloud of despair was over her and she needed to vent. "I really don't think I have a place to go, to tell the truth. I have lost everything. I am an anachronism. I have no place in the present." She felt the tears rise in her eyes.
"Well, my dear. You have only two choices: stay here sheltered in the comfort of this place and away from the Empire, or jump right into the bantha nest."
He looked at her wistfully. "You remind me of my granddaughter. Something tells me you will choose the bantha nest." He smiled benevolently and Padmé, feeling inspired, returned a grin.
The droid rolled up to Padmé. "Miss Padmé, it is time for your nourishment ration."
"Are you coming, too?" Padmé ventured hopefully to the now silent man sitting quietly in the chair.
"He won't answer you." The droid declared.
Padmé frowned and was about to reply when the droid continued.
"If you're wondering about him," the droid stated, gesturing toward the silent gentleman, "His family sent him here for our specialists. We have not made much progress yet, but are sure we will one day get some kind of response from him. He has not spoken since the Jedi Purge two standard decades ago. He lost a granddaughter and has not spoken since."
Padmé looked sharply at him.
Pacing back and forth in her chamber, Padmé came to a resolution. She decided to go to Naboo. Perhaps some of her family might be there or old friends who could offer her temporary shelter. She just needed to get away from everything to think of how she would find her children.
She pressed a comm. button and waited for the droid to enter. It seemed that the facility had no humans except for the patients. After quizzing the droid, she found out that there were no restrictions on her leaving. She also found out that she was quite a wealthy woman with a sizeable bank account, despite her convalescence.
Apparently Bail Organa made sure she was financially well off, having placed a large sum of credits in trust for her. It was more than enough to take care of her indefinitely, but now that she was leaving the medical facility, she could procure clothes and a ship, which is what she was planning to do right away.
It was nothing like her sleek Naboo Cruiser, but it would have to do. It was an older model Coruscant ship with an upgraded hyperdrive, which she would need to make the jump to Naboo and arrive in record time. She also procured other necessities, including a rare Naboo blaster, non-descript clothing and plenty of Empire credits just in case.
She took off from the docking bay and entered the coordinates for Naboo. Padmé sat back as she entered the grey streaks of hyperspace and closed her eyes for a quick rest. Her breathing became deep and even. A sense of calm came over her and her body relaxed. She had emptied her mind and fell into a meditative state. Anakin had taught her a few Jedi skills, despite her lower Force sensitivity.
The image of a large, gaseous planet came into her mind. Her eyes opened and she was compelled to change her course. She entered the new coordinates, which would necessitate a few more hyperspace jumps in order to get to the new destination: Bespin.
Padmé's ship exited the last hyperspace jump when a warning klaxon sounded. The strain of the rapid hyperspace jumps had caused a stress fracture in the ship's outer hull and was slowly leaking oxygen. Coupled with the fact that she was also perilously low on fuel made it a good idea to request an immediate landing on the mining colony straight ahead of her.
She was cleared for her approach and she made her way to the landing bay. She began to feel an urgency to complete her voyage, so she quickly exited the ship to give orders for the ship's repair and the necessary credits to pay for it. She had had the foresight to pull on a long dark blue hooded cloak about her to hide her blaster and the large pouch of credits form prying eyes.
She negotiated a fair price for the repairs and fuel with the technician when a strange sense of foreboding came over her. Her hands went clammy and her body went cold. It was as if she know something really horrid was about to happen and she had to change it.
The mechanic was telling her how long he thought it would take to make the repairs when she turned and tore off in the opposite direction. He looked bemused and shook his head, going about his business. He was paid well not to ask questions.