Chapter 53
The Morning After…
Vader was in some warm, dim, deeply pleasant place and was totally content. He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there, and he didn't care. All that he cared about was the wonderful feeling of warmth and peace and contentment that he was immersed in.
He inhaled deeply and drowned in a soothing fragrance he couldn't even begin to identify. He was laying on softness, wrapped in softness, and cuddling something that was warm and soft. With a sigh, he snuggled closer to the unknown thing he was cuddling.
But then, as his awareness slowly rose and sharpened, a new and distinctly unpleasant set of sensations made themselves known. A dull throbbing headache slowly blossom behind his closed eyes. His mouth was thick and dry and filled with a sour taste. And he really, really had to pee.
Grumbling incoherent curses, he somehow stumbled out of bed and off in a blind search for a refresher. His eyes were cracked open, but it was kind of dark and his eyes were all blurry. But after much stubbing of toes, barking of shins, and even some banging into walls, he found what he was in increasingly desperate need of.
After properly positioning himself so as not to miss (even in his hazy mind, he knew he didn't want to piss Obi-Wan off for making a mess by missing) he reached down and… Hey, where the heck is my underwear? He blinked blurrily, then shrugged and just relieved himself. He'd worry about where his pants and underwear had disappeared to later.
With that essential bodily function taken care of, Vader stumbled into the shower. Some nice hot water would ease his headache and wake him up. And maybe it would help him remember what he'd done last night to wake up feeling so incredibly awful.
When he'd soaked for a few minutes under the cascade of hot steamy water, he groped around for a bottle of shampoo and got a surprise. Hey…this isn't mine…and it's not Obi-Wan's either… He scowled in deep concentration as he forced his eyes to read the tiny label with the girly cursive font.
This isn't even shampoo! It's conditioner! I don't use conditioner! Obi-Wan doesn't either! Bothered by this, but still not thinking entirely clearly, he set the odd conditioner aside and found the shampoo. This stuff smells fruity… Or flowery… Or whatever.
With every passing minute, as the fog in his brain was slowly burned away by the hot shower, he grew more worried. First he found he didn't have any pants or underwear, which was very strange because he never slept in the nude. Second there was girly shampoo and conditioner in the shower. And third, he didn't remember anything from yesterday…
Oh this is bad… He climbed out of the shower and found a towel. A very soft, very fluffy, rather feminine towel. This is definitely bad… As he glanced around, now that his eyes were open, he saw that he wasn't in his refresher in the Jedi Temple. Okay, now this is beyond bad…
A knot of sick dread formed in his stomach that was only partly due to the hangover that he new realized that he had. Crap. Hangover…. No memory of the previous day… Stang!
It appeared that he'd gotten stupendously drunk. Again. And now it was highly likely that he'd done something incredibly dumb. Again. Though…this time with the nakedness and the girly bathroom…it was a heck of a lot worse than his escapades on Naos III.
Oh Force! What did I do? What did I do? What do I do?
For a moment, panic blinded him. He was dead. There was no way around it. He. Was. Dead.
Calm down Skywalker. He shook his head to try and clear it and immediately regretted it as his head felt like it was going to explode. Ow. Bad idea. Don't do that again.
Once the throbbing receded to something he could think through. Okay… Step one: find clothes. Step two: put on clothes. Step three: get the hell out of here! …Yeah, that's a good plan…that'll work fine…
Taking a deep, calming, cleansing breath, he wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist and very cautiously crept out of the refresher. The apartment he found on the other side of the door had a vague familiarity about it that only fed the sick feeling of nameless dread. The more he saw as he searched for his lost clothing, the worse he felt.
As he feared, he found his lost robes in the darkened bedroom. They were strewn haphazardly across the floor and were intermingled with other articles of clothing that did not belong to him. Gulping back a vague feeling of nausea, he began to sort through the mess.
He found his boxer shorts, pants, boots, and his two tunics easily enough. Then he stumbled over a cast off brazier and his methodical searching rhythm was disturbed. Stumbling backwards a few steps, it took him several moments to get his eyes averted and working to find the rest of his outfit.
Vader found the soft fabric belt dangerously close to the bra and to avoid touching the feminine undergarment he ended up using the Force. Hurriedly wrapping it around his waist, he kept searching for his other belt, his glove, his cloak, and the black leather straps. But his search abruptly ended as he finally caught a glimpse of the apartment's owner.
A pale, slender, bare arm hung off the side of the bed, poking out from under the twisted pile of sheets that obscured the rest of his view. Drawn to it by some unconscious magnetism, he found himself standing by the bed, staring at the shapeless lump that concealed a Human being. With a trembling hand, he carefully pulled aside the sheets and…
No! No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…!
He left then, still choking on denial after denial. He left what clothes he hadn't found behind. He left behind his lightsaber and other gear. He left the apartment. He left the building. And he ran home.
Obi-Wan pensively made his way back to his apartment after a rather worrying breakfast. The problem wasn't with the food or anything that had happened in the cafeteria. It was with his company, or lack of it, during his meal.
Vader was missing, MIA, AWOL, nowhere to be found. When he'd woken up, he found Vader's room empty. The younger man had failed to materialize for the morning tea. He wasn't visible anywhere in the apartment. And before he'd left for breakfast, he'd checked the bond to see where he was, but only got the vague static of peaceful unconsciousness.
Puzzled by that response, he'd gone to breakfast to eat and think it out. When Vader failed to appear while he mulled over the mystery, he grew a little more worried. Where could he have gotten to?
Since he wasn't in his room, yet he was unconscious, he must be sleeping elsewhere not having made it home after the charity ball. He'd escorted Senator Amidala back to her apartment, so he was most likely there. And if history was repeating itself, he was passed out on her couch. But why would he spend the night?
A nagging sense of unease that he couldn't pinpoint hovered over him. He'd first felt it when he found himself to be alone in the shared apartment. And as the morning progressed it only intensified. The hazy, muddled, and utterly bizarre dreams he'd suffered during the night didn't help his mood any either.
Vader had better turn up soon, Obi-Wan grumbled. I'd really like to know what the heck he's up to… He sighed and paused in a hallway to contemplate an ancient mural that depicted a famous Jedi of old, Nomi Sunrider. And things had been going so well lately too…
The return to Coruscant two days previous had been a welcome break from the relentless grind and horror of the war. The sudden assignment to the Senate charity ball had been unpleasant, but tolerable. After he'd gone through the motions with the politicians, he actually found some enjoyment in the whole mess.
Conversing with Sabé after exchanging meaningless pleasantries with Senators was like a breath of fresh air. She hadn't had any agenda in speaking with him; she had no interest in politics beyond supporting her friend and employer. Her curiosity about him and his adventures was genuine and he found himself willing to share.
In fact he'd become so relaxed as he spoke with her he almost let slip some embarrassing information. Only Vader's quick intervention kept him from spilling the details. But then Vader had gone on to give a vague, edited version of the embarrassing tale and then made a teasing comment about him and his behavior in bars.
I still need to get him for that, Obi-Wan frowned as he continued to stare at the mural. Vader hadn't said anything specific, but saying "You've never been to a bar with him I take it" didn't imply anything positive. At best that said he enjoyed alcohol a bit too much, at worst it painted him as a borderline alcoholic.
Thankfully Sabé, and Padmé, hadn't seemed to take that comment the wrong way. It only seemed to shock and then amuse them. Hopefully they'd forget all about it. Hopefully.
Shaking his head, he shifted his thoughts on a slightly different yet related track. After Vader had vanished with Padmé, his conversation with Sabé changed. Instead of him regaling her with tales of his adventures, she shared a growing worry of hers with him…
"Is something wrong?" Obi-Wan asked curiously.
After Padmé and Vader had disappeared from the ballroom Sabé had grown very quiet. Her carefully trimmed and polished nails drew anxious circles in the scarlet tablecloth as she slowly chewed her lower lip. When he voiced his question, she gave a little start.
"Hm?" She blinked. "Oh it-it's…" She trailed off before saying 'nothing' and then decided to changer her answer. "It's about Padmé."
"Oh?" Obi-Wan prompted.
"I'm worried that…" She shook her head, "I think she's working too hard. She's never taken a vacation, unless you count that brief time she went into hiding, and the few weeks between her last term as Queen and when she accepted the post as Senator. And every waking moment revolves on her work. The only time I think she doesn't work is when you or Vader swing by for a visit." Her tone was calm as she spoke, but Obi-Wan didn't have to be a Jedi to sense the deep current of worry that lay beneath.
"Have you spoken to Padmé about this?" Obi-Wan frowned with concern.
"I haven't been quite as direct, but yes, I have brought the subject of a vacation or a little break up before." Sabé sighed in frustration. "She always brushes it aside, promises me maybe later, and it never happens. The best I can ever get is perhaps a little shopping trip, a few hours of looking at shoes and dresses. And even then I think that she still has her work on her mind."
"Oh dear," Obi-Wan remarked.
"I just don't know what to do." Sabé muttered. "I don't want to put any more pressure on her than there already is, but I can't stand staying totally silent either."
"That is a dilemma." Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "And I see no easy solution to it. Padmé Amidala is a very strong-minded, stubborn person with a powerful sense of duty. She does what she feels she must do and she believes deeply in her work. It would be difficult to separate her from her work, even under times of peace."
"I know," Sabé almost whispered, "I served her for years, and was her closest friend in school before that. I know just how driven she is by her sense of duty, honor, and unyielding perfectionism." She leaned forward on her folded arms, her eyes fixed on some invisible spot on the tablecloth.
"But I also know that at one time her dreams went beyond politics," she continued softly. "When we weren't in class or doing homework or studying, we'd talk about our hopes for our futures. She wanted to be a politician of course, though she didn't know what position she'd seek at first. But she also wanted a family of her own, especially after her sister Sola found Darred and settled down with him." Sabé paused to snag a glass of white wine from the tray of a passing waiter.
"I remember her telling me about the kind of man she wanted to fall in love with and marry. He didn't have to be incredibly handsome or a genius. She wanted someone kind and understanding, someone who would love her and support her when she needed it. Someone who could make her laugh, or just smile, when she was sad. He didn't have to be perfect; he just had to be special." She smiled sadly and took a sip of her wine.
"And she wanted at least two children. Maybe more, but definitely not less. She wanted a daughter, a little girl she could love and dress up. But mainly she wanted a son, a little boy of her own. Padmé only ever had her sister, and then her two nieces. There's never been a boy in her immediate family and she always wanted one." Her smile faded and her expression almost turned grim.
"Padmé always knew just what she wanted to do with her life, and I'll admit that I envied her for it. I was never so sure of what I wanted for the future. But now…" Sabé sighed and sipped at her drink.
"But now her dream of politics has consumed everything. Her mind is completely focused on her work. She hasn't so much as looked at another man since leaving school. The last boy she kissed was named Paolo, and that was in school when she was twelve. He's moved on to be an artist as far as I know, and she's nearly forgotten him." Sabé finally looked up and locked her gaze to his.
"She's still young; she's only twenty-six, almost twenty-seven. She still has time to find the man perfect for her and have the babies that she wants. But that time is rapidly running out. She has maybe a decade and some odd years left before she'll be too old to safely carry a child to term. Then the only thing she can do is adopt." Her expression was undeniably grim now.
"At the rate she's going, she'll never stop working. She'll work herself into an early grave or until she burns herself out. Then all her other dreams will be gone, forgotten in the ashes of her memory. And I think that's what scares me the most…"
Obi-Wan turned away from the mural and continued on his way.
After Sabé had finished pouring out her worries, Obi-Wan had found himself quite speechless. The things that she had spoken of he had never once considered. He had been raised a Jedi, knowing only hard work, duty, and sacrifice. He knew that there were other ways of living, but they had always been distant, an abstract.
Some rare Jedi could easily see beyond that. They could see past their Jedi up-bringing and find something more. Like Nejaa Halcyon, who was married with a new infant son.
Listening to Sabé speak of it had almost, ever so briefly, made that way of living feel like a reality to him. He could almost see it, almost reach out and touch it. But it remained just beyond him.
Still, he could feel for Padmé Amidala. Her duty and sacrifice was easily equal to that of a Jedi. Yet she wasn't a Jedi, she was a Senator, a civilian. While her service to her world was deeply admirable, she should not slave away her life for everyone else's benefit but her own.
But there was really nothing he, or Sabé, could do about it. Padmé was a stubborn individual and she would not step aside, even for a little while, until she felt ready to. And that could very well be never.
Obi-Wan picked up the pace a little as he reached his hallway. The door to his apartment was only a few yards away and he was eager to get back there. Perhaps Vader had returned in his absence.
The instant the door hissed open, he staggered backwards as an entire ocean's worth of negativity crashed over him. This was worse than anything that had come before it. There was fear, horror, shame, self-loathing, guilt, misery, self-hatred, and hints of physical discomfort.
Well, Obi-Wan blinked as he peered into the strangely pitch black apartment, he's back.
The hovering sense of unease that had plagued him all morning now seemed to be entirely justified. Steeling himself, he cautiously raised the lights enough so he could see where he was going, but not so much that it was particularly bright. It was just enough to see just what he didn't want to see.
Vader was curled up in a corner of the couch, tucked tightly into the fetal position. He was perfectly still and perfectly silent, and if anything that was an ominous sign in itself. Obi-Wan hovered in the doorway for a few moments longer before cautiously approaching.
His cloak was missing. And his black leather. And his glove. And his belt. …And his lightsaber. But he seemed to have everything else that belonged on his person. Obi-Wan's unease morphed into full-fledged dread.
He stopped one step away from standing directly in front of Vader and gently grasped his shoulder. No reaction. Obi-Wan gave him a slight shake. Still no reaction.
"Vader?" Obi-Wan asked cautiously. "What's wrong?"
It took several minutes before there was a response. "What did we do last night?" Vader asked quietly, his voice deceptively calm.
That one innocent question set off major alarm bells in Obi-Wan's mind. Something is wrong here…very wrong. "We attended a Senate charity ball as the Jedi representatives." He replied, sitting down beside the huddled young man. "Don't you remember?"
"No," Vader whispered, his voice starting to sound strained. "I don't remember anything."
"That doesn't make any sense." Obi-Wan frowned in puzzlement. "The last time I saw you, you were perfectly sober so you should remember."
"I was?" Vader slowly raised his head from his knees and stared over at Obi-Wan with confused, unfocused, blood-shot eyes. Even in the dim light his skin held an unhealthy pallor and Obi-Wan couldn't help but be worried.
"Yes, Senator Amidala complained of a headache and you escorted her back to her apartment." Obi-Wan replied.
Vader somehow managed to blanch paler than he already was and his expression was one of pure misery. "Oh," he moaned softly.
"So," Obi-Wan began hesitantly, "do you know what happened to the rest of your clothes?"
Vader buried his face in his knees again and let out a choked, muffled whimper. "I'm a terrible Jedi!" He sobbed softly. "I'm a terrible friend!"
Obi-Wan sighed and awkwardly embraced the distraught young man. "Oh come now, it can't be that bad."
"It is!" He choked miserably, squirming around to bury his face in Obi-Wan's shoulder. "It is…"
"No it isn't," Obi-Wan corrected, "the galaxy hasn't collapsed in on itself, the sun still rose this morning, life continues on as normal."
"Yeah, for everyone else," Vader sniffed bitterly.
Obi-Wan only shook his head and patted Vader's back in a soothing gesture. He was too upset right now to be reasoned with, it was best to just wait until he was calmer and more clear-headed. While Vader worked some of his distress out of his system, Obi-Wan ran through the known facts.
One, Vader had escorted Padmé home after the ball when she complained of a headache while he was outwardly fine. Two, he did not make it back to the Temple until mid-morning. Three, when he did reappear he was missing various articles of clothing and most of his memory of the previous day. And four, he was very, very upset.
There weren't very many conclusions he could draw from this, none of them particularly encouraging. The most likely explanation for Vader's breakdown was that, somehow, he became heavily intoxicated after leaving the ball with Padmé and, lacking his inhibitions, acted on his attraction to the beautiful Senator. Either she accepted his advances, due to somehow also being intoxicated, and they had sex, or she refused him and because of his lack of memory and state of undress thought he had had sex with her. Any way he looked at it, it was bad. And there was only one way to find out for sure…
"I think we need to track down the rest of your clothes." Obi-Wan suggested quietly. "And your lightsaber."
"No!" Vader moaned. "I can't go back there!"
"Why not?" Obi-Wan frowned.
"I can't," Vader repeated hoarsely. "I can't go back…"
Obi-Wan thought about arguing with him some more, but a glance at the wall chrono told him he didn't have the time. "Well if you're sure you can't go back," he sighed, "I guess I'll have to go to Senator Amidala's apartment later then. I have some meetings coming up. Now will you be all right?"
"My head hurts," was Vader's whimpered response.
"I'll get you some painkillers then," Obi-Wan sighed, gently disentangling himself from the still utterly miserable Vader.
As he rifled around in the medicine cabinet in the refresher for the bottle of aspirin, Obi-Wan chuckled wryly. I think I'm going to need a couple of these too, he mused as he located the bottle of pills. Today is going to be so much fun!
A stray beam of light wormed its way through the blinds and stuck Padmé in the eye. For a minute she didn't react, but then she groaned and rolled away from the source of her annoyance. But as she moved she encountered what her subconscious mind recognized as a void, a place where something should've been there, but wasn't. This discrepancy was enough to start her on the path to consciousness.
The first thing she was aware of was a dull throb behind her eyes. It made her want to go right back into the bliss of unconsciousness. But that, along with other uncomfortable physical sensations wouldn't let her.
After the headache came a dry, unpleasant taste in her mouth. Then the need to use the refresher rather badly. And as she began to move in order to get there, there was an odd soreness that she was pretty sure she shouldn't be feeling after a proper night's sleep.
Ugh, today is going to be a bad day, Padmé groaned as she stiffly sat up, her eyes glued closed by sleep. It's drafty this morning, she frowned, forcing her eyes open. What she found surprised her.
Why am I naked? I don't sleep naked ever… Padmé scowled, but shrugged the odd detail off in favor of getting to her refresher in a timely manner.
Wrapping herself up in a slightly damp towel that, for some unknown reason, had been laying in the middle of her floor, she staggered out of her room and into her refresher. After relieving herself, it was into the shower where she luxuriated in the hot steamy water, letting it gently lessen the mysterious aches she suffered from. When she felt sufficiently clean and awake, she left her shower and continued preparing for the day.
Now cloaked in her fluffy bathrobe, Padmé padded out of the refresher and stopped by her small office to check her day planner. For today's date there was nothing listed, the Senate wouldn't be in session and she had no meetings scheduled. Today, it seemed, would be a catch-up day, where she vainly tried to plow through the mountainous stack of folios and data chips that littered her desk.
She was about to close the calendar program on her terminal when the events listed for the previous day caught her eye. The refugee charity ball was last night? She wondered, puzzled. Oh wait…it was…
Padmé squinted at the screen of her data terminal as the hazy memories of the previous night slowly filtered back through her mind. Her recollections of the gala were strangely fuzzy, full of gaps and holes. She remembered leaving because of some kind of headache… I must've been really worn out last night, she decided, leaving her office for her bedroom.
That theory was shot out of the sky as soon as she reentered her bedroom. As she was walking over to her enormous closet to pick a dress, she first stepped in the crumpled form of her dress from last night. Confused as to why she'd just left it on the floor like that, she picked it up and shook the wrinkles out of it and brought it with her to the closet.
Then her toe hit something cold and metallic and she froze. She looked down and stared…and stared…and stared. She just kept staring because she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Why is there a lightsaber on my floor…still connected to a belt…? She stared at it as recognition slowly rose in her mind. She knew this particular design. Why did Vader leave his lightsaber and belt here? Why was he even here at all?
The belt and lightsaber weren't the only things he left behind. When she finally could peel her eyes off the lightsaber, she found other items of his. His black leather was cast off in a corner, his cloak was crumpled half-under her bed, and his black glove was hanging off her nightstand.
Confused and feeling a little worried, she gathered up his things and piled them on the end of her bed. Then she gathered up her own things that were strangely strewn around the room and shoved them into the hamper to be laundered later. And with her room cleaned up, she selected a simple non-Senate dress at random and got dressed.
Something is wrong here… She frowned as she made a quick stop back in her refresher to find her headache pills to kill the lingering mild headache that she had. Something…something… What exactly happened last night?
Padmé retrieved a glass of water from her kitchen and used it to help her toss back her pills. Then she settled down on her favorite couch and began to think. There were too many strange things like the holes in her memory, waking up naked, and finding some of Vader's things in her bedroom. She had to find out what had happened last night.
Let me see… I went to the ball with Sabé and Ellé. There was a lot of petty social posturing. I wanted to leave. Vorski showed up and got me a drink that tasted funny… A warning light blinked in the back of her mind. Vader scared him off. We danced for a while. It was a lot of fun. I started feeling bad. He took me home. We both started having trouble walking…and talking…and thinking… Several more warning lights lit up in her brain. And then he…I…we…
Padmé sat up very straight, very still, and blushed. Her memories of their…activities…were not very clear, just hazy images, sensations, and emotions. But it was enough, more than enough.
Oh no… She slumped forward and buried her face in her hands. No, no, no… What have I done?
Sabé smiled as she made her way to Padmé's apartment building. Today was most likely going to be a boring day. The Senate wasn't in session and there were no meetings scheduled, so she would just be assisting Padmé in digging through reports and assimilating new information to form a better picture of the goings-on of the Republic. But still she smiled.
Last night had been the most fun she'd had in a while. Sure there had been plenty of stress, what with dealing with snooty politicians and then spending the rest of the night with Obi-Wan. But still she'd had fun.
After her initial bout of nerves in dealing with Obi-Wan, she managed to relax and fully enjoy his company. The stories he'd told her were interesting, sometimes surprising, and funny. She was especially amused by the bare facts tale of Starak's Hole on Naos III.
And she had to admit, it had been nice to share her concerns with someone else. After Padmé and Vader had departed, she'd spilled her secret worries for her friend to Obi-Wan and he'd listened attentively to every word. Once she'd gotten all of it out, she was sure that he agreed with most of her opinions on the matter, and that had made her feel enormously better.
They didn't stay very long after that. Just long enough for her to finish her glass of wine actually. And then Obi-Wan decided he would follow his former Padawan's example and escorted her home.
Sabé's nerves briefly resurfaced then, but she stubbornly ignored them. When they reached her apartment, she politely invited Obi-Wan in, but he declined. She would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she was a little disappointed, but not at all surprised.
Still smiling, she entered Padmé's building and stepped into the lift, pressing the button and entering her code for the penthouse. Her little smile briefly widened as the lift lurched into motion, giving her the slight feeling of being heavier for a moment as the car rocketed skyward. She loved riding lifts for the funny feelings they gave her when they went up and down.
The door opened to Padmé's apartment and she stepped inside. Since today was an off day for the Senate and no meetings were set up there was no need for an elaborate dress, hairstyle, and make-up so she wouldn't have to worry about that, Padmé could dress herself just fine. No, today she would play the helper, the one who brewed up endless pots of caf and answered the comm.
Her smiled died the instant she caught sight of Padmé. She was sitting on the couch with her face hidden in her hands and her slumped posture just screamed something bad. Sabé immediately was at her Lady's side with a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Padmé, what's wrong?" Sabé asked softly.
Padmé did not immediately reply. Sabé was ready to repeat her question when Padmé abruptly sat up straight, her expression grim and determined. "Sabé, track down a medical droid for me."
"Of course," Sabé nodded, heading for the comm. "Are you ill?"
"No, I just want a test run to check on something." Padmé replied. "If I'm right, and I'm sure that I am, I just might have the thing that'll keep Vorski away forever…"
Padmé's index finger drummed an anxious rhythm against the countertop of her kitchen as she waited for the medical droid to finish its analysis and give a report on its findings. She'd asked it to run a full toxicology screen on a small sample of her blood and that took a long time. She almost jumped when the droid suddenly moved after having sat still for nearly a half an hour. It produced a data chip with its findings and sat by patiently, waiting for any questions she might have.
She ignored the droid for a moment, feeding the chip into her datapad and calling up the results. Sabé hovered over her shoulder and read along curiously. Normally Padmé would scold Sabé for the hovering, but she was too fixated on what she was reading to care this time. One particular finding caught her eye and she selected it for further information.
Trystacine – A drug long outlawed within the bounds of the Galactic Republic and elsewhere for its criminal abuse. It is manufactured in an inert form that fools most chemical analyses into classifying it as harmless. However once it enters the bloodstream and is metabolized by the liver (or equivalent organ) it is broken down into active components. Clear traces of the drug can linger in an individual's systems and tissues for weeks, depending on species. Effects of the drug include: loss of coordination, loss of inhibitions, slurred speech, and a constant good mood, usually accompanied by erratic fits of laughter. After-effects of the drug mimic an alcoholic hangover and there is usually partial or full memory loss of the time when under the drug's influence. It dissolves completely in any liquid and is tasteless to most beings. There is a small percentage of beings who do taste the drug as a bitter or foul aftertaste. Trystacine was classified as illegal for its rampant use as a 'date-rape' drug. The victim is drugged hours in advance of the rape and with the long gap of time between the drugging and the attack and the memory loss it is almost impossible to track down the individual responsible for the crime. Only a small amount is needed to effect an individual and when mixed with alcohol or other drugs it is several times more potent than alone. Over-dosing on this drug can cause severe vomiting, brain damage, coma, and even death.
By the time she finished reading the provided information, Padmé's teeth were clenched so tightly together that her whole jaw ached. Taking a few deep breaths and forcing herself to relax, she thought things over. Lowering the datapad, she regarded the waiting medical droid.
"Thank you for your assistance, you are dismissed." Padmé handed the droid a credit chip with its payment and the droid bowed mutely and left.
"I'm going to kill that pervert!" Sabé hissed after the droid had departed. "I'm going to kill him!"
"No you won't Sabé." Padmé frowned as she strode into her small office. "You're going to help me put together a little file and then we're going to call Vorski and make him a deal that he doesn't dare refuse."
"Make him a deal?" Sabé sputtered. "No! Take this right to the Senate Guard!"
"I can't," Padmé sighed. "I'd rather not resort to blackmail, but it's best for all involved that we make a deal."
"Why can't you?" Sabé scowled.
"That would require involving the Jedi." Padmé replied.
"What?" Sabé blinked. "Why would…" She stopped and thought hard. "Did you…?" Padmé couldn't look Sabé in the eye and instead loaded the data chip into her data terminal and began preparing to create her little 'black file.' "You did…" Sabé breathed in shock.
"If I take this to the Senate Guard, the media will catch wind of it and spawn a scandal that will do more than mar more than my own reputation." Padmé sighed. "I refuse to let that happen."
"Oh…" Sabé mumbled. "So you're going to blackmail Vorski?"
"Basically, yes." Padmé shrugged. "We set the terms and if he refuses them or violates them, we leak this file and he is, if not ruined, then hurt significantly."
"It's the next best thing, I guess." Sabé nodded reluctantly. "I still wish we could take this to the Guard though and really burn him."
"Me too," Padmé agreed. "But unfortunately we must content ourselves with one little comm call and a little black file."
"Right," Sabé sighed, settling down at a corner of Padmé's desk. "Let's get to it then…"
Obi-Wan sighed wearily as he rode the lift to Padmé's apartment. Now that his meetings were over, he finally had time to come here, though it was getting to be a bit late. He'd tried to get Vader to come with him before he'd left the Temple, but while he was a little calmer than he had been after breakfast, he still vehemently refused. So Obi-Wan was left with the awkward task of reclaiming Vader's misplaced belongings and finding a few answers, alone.
When the lift came to a stop and the doors opened, he found himself face-to-face with Sabé, who was apparently just about to leave. She squeaked and hopped backwards a step while Obi-Wan merely blinked a few times. Awkward silence reigned for several long moments afterwards.
"Good evening," Obi-Wan managed at last with a slight bow. "May I speak with Senator Amidala?"
"Oh-oh yes of course!" Sabé stammered, moving aside. "Do come in."
Obi-Wan followed her lead into the common room and took a seat on the couch while Sabé hurried off to fetch Padmé. Some minutes later, a slightly flustered Padmé appeared carrying Vader's abandoned belongings. Everything was neatly folded and stacked, perfectly in order.
"Good evening Master Kenobi," Padmé greeted nervously. "Can I get you anything?"
"No thank you," Obi-Wan refused politely. "I can't stay very long."
"Oh," Padmé swallowed nervously and took a seat. "I see."
Obi-Wan sighed deeply. "I hate to ask you this, but…what happened after you left the charity ball?"
"I…would rather not say." Padmé replied after a moment. "However I do have an explanation." She nodded to Sabé who briefly disappeared.
When Sabé reappeared she was carrying a datapad which she passed to him. Obi-Wan peered at the screen curiously and found a report of a blood analysis. The results caused him to inhale sharply.
"Trystacine?" Obi-Wan hissed. "How did you come into contact with that?"
"Senator Vorski brought me a replacement drink after he spilled my original one." Padmé answered, her tone reflected her disgust. "I didn't wish to offend him so I kept it and when he finally did leave, Vader kindly decided to finish it off for me."
"Ah," Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. That explains everything. "So how do you plan to deal with Vorski?"
"It's already taken care of," Padmé assured him. "He won't be a problem for me or my staff ever again."
Obi-Wan studied Padmé for a minute. "Blackmail?" He guessed.
"Yes," Padmé sighed, "I have no desire to spark any scandal or controversy."
"I see," Obi-Wan nodded. "May I have a copy of this?"
"Of course, you can take that copy with you." Padmé replied.
"Thank you," Obi-Wan smiled, ejecting the data chip from the 'pad. "Now, I should be going." He stood and gathered up the chip and Vader's lost items.
Padmé rose with him and escorted him back to the lift. Before he could step inside, she caught him by the arm and brought him to a stop. He sensed she had a question for him and he patiently waited while she gathered herself to ask it.
"How is he?" She asked finally.
"He's…very upset." Obi-Wan hesitantly replied. "As far as I can tell, he doesn't remember anything at all of what happened. Hopefully seeing this," he held up the chip, "will help."
"Oh," she chewed her lip anxiously and wrapped her arms around her chest. "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for," Obi-Wan blinked. "You didn't drug him on purpose or force him to do any of what he did." She still looked rather upset and he tried to think up something else to calm her down. "Perhaps I can convince him to stop by sometime?" He offered.
"I'd like that," Padmé smiled slightly. "Hopefully the both of you can come over before you have to leave again."
"We'll see," Obi-Wan smiled and stepped into the lift. "Good evening Senator, may the rest of your day be pleasant."
"Good-bye Obi-Wan, may your evening be pleasant as well." Her smile widened marginally. "And hopefully your former apprentice will feel better too."
Obi-Wan only had time to nod in response before the lift doors hissed closed. As the lift car descended, he tucked Vader's things under one arm and contemplated the data chip Padmé had given him. This, he felt, would be the key in convincing Vader that he wasn't in as much trouble with the lovely Senator as he thought he was.
It looks like I'm going to have to see if that blasted nickname the 'faxes coined for me is deserved. Obi-Wan sighed as the lift reached the main lobby of the building. I'm not much of a Negotiator if I can't negotiate Vader out of his room and back into Padmé's apartment…