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Chapter Five: Perveniet ad altitudinem

- reach for the heights

YAVIN IV

"How dare you?!"

Bail Organa was a very even-tempered man, rarely letting his anger consume him. But the sight of General Draven's smug expression made even the Alderaanian Senators blood boil.

"Bail, it was necessary." Draven started lazily. "She is a traitor to-"

"Do not belittle me or this matter, General." he waved a threatening finger. "She was- is the reason why this Rebellion exists the way it does!" Bail exclaimed in frustration, his head pounding, feeling Mon Mothma place her hand on his shoulder.

He couldn't believe it. The General had gone behind their backs and ordered an attack on Senator Amidala, his dear old friend. He hadn't even provided them with enough proof that Padmé was betraying their cause.

It made no sense, Padmé's life goal started with everything she invested in the Rebellion.

"General, this attempt cost Dormé her life. And now Padmé is nowhere to be found." Mon spoke in her gentle voice that now held a firm and serious edge to it.

"Well, perhaps it's good that way." Draven retorted, his arms crossed over his chest tightly.

The tension in the Council's room was very high, with Draven crossing several lines despite his high position in the Alliance, Bail's anger visible through his body language, and Palo's fingers tapping against the table nervously.

"We need to think of ways to proceed now. Padmé's absence is unfortunate but we cannot…" Mon paused, Bail's gaze making her hesitate before inhaling deeply, continuing. "We cannot let this make us forget what is at stake if we waste time."

General Draven nodded in agreement and with him a few others as well.

Palo clenched his jaw, staring at the table as if had done him wrong. Padmé's words echoed in his mind, begging him not to follow her.

What kind of… friend would he be? He'd rather have her be mad at him than leave her in Vader's clutches. He remembered Palpatine's words as clearly as he remembered Padmé's brown eyes, he should've known something like this would happen.

It pained him. Her heart was at the right place, her whole life she had put the greater good and her people before herself. And yet, she still managed to gain enemies on both sides, even the one she had built with her own hands.

He felt sick at the fact that he couldn't tell them where she was. For the greater good, he thought bitterly. Draven's attack on her place got Dormé killed. It was pathetic, Dormé had died for nothing, and now the Empire had an even better public argument to keep Padmé in their 'safety'.

All he could do now was hope that, at least to some extent, the Emperor kept his word.

"What even made you believe she was betraying us? Do you realize how absurd that sounds?" Palo bit out, ignoring Mon Mothma.

"We have spies everywhere, Jemabie. She has grown too close to the Emperor." Draven spoke. "We don't need another double agent."

At this point, Bail had already left the room, an uncomfortable silence settling over the Council. Palo, too, stood after shooting daggers at the General and went after Bail, exiting the Temple.

The air of Yavin IV was refreshing, and the sunset painted the sky in colors Palo knew would remind Padmé of Naboo. He sighed, arms crossed tightly over his chest, watching the condensation of his exhale in the air.

"We will find her, Palo. Don't worry." Bail spoke from next to him as they stood and watched a ship leave the moon.

Palo gave a firm nod. "I believe so, too, Viceroy. I believe in Padmé."

"As do I, my friend."

TATOOINE

Tatooine hadn't been his first choice after the events of Order 66. In fact, she had insisted they go to Naboo together. And while Obi-Wan couldn't imagine anything better, it was far too risky, especially for her to be seen with him.

So he let the Force guide him to this remote desert planet in the Outer Rim.

What he had expected to be a tearful goodbye turned out to be one of the coldest he had received in his life. He remembered her face as he climbed into his starfighter, the crowd of Theed behind her as busy as ever.

He tried to smile, his blue eyes reassuring her they'd see each other again but her face remained as cold as stone, uniform clad arms wrapped around herself. She looked so beautiful, even through her pain, even through the exhaustion. She was fierce, smart and reckless but her heart, oh, she was compassionate and loving. It was Obi-Wans and his to keep.

Let go, he had told himself, remembering his Jedi training and before taking off, turned to look at her one last time but she had already disappeared.

Neither of them shed any tears, the Galaxy didn't let them.

It didn't take long for him to get to Mos Eisley. Arriving there, he was certain he had made a mistake. The Force led him here, why didn't it help him now? In the heat of the twin suns, Obi-Wan felt cold.

For several days, he had wandered around the spaceport, meditated and searched for a home as discreetly as he could. He could no longer go by his name so he changed it to Ben Kenobi, already earning the nickname "crazy hermit" in the neighborhood.

A kind soul called Beru Whitesun finally put the Jedi Master's desperation to an end, finding out about him through the whispers that went through Mos Eisley.

She brought him into her shared home with Owen Lars, her partner.

Beru and Owen looked after him and provided him with as much as they could give, and for that Obi-Wan was beyond grateful.

Their home felt so familiar, as if it was exactly why Obi-Wan had come to Tatooine, so much he didn't understand yet.

In a matter of days they had found him a home in the Jundland Wastes. It was a simple hut but more than he could've hoped for. Learning from Owen, he started to pick up a thing or two about moisture farming.

Soon, he started to hear Qui-Gon's voice and started communicating with his dead Master, although the communication was fairly one-sided. He thought he had become mad, perhaps the Mos Eisley people had been right; he was a crazy hermit.

A year after that fateful day, the day Obi-Wan had lost everyone and everything, she returned, standing at his doorstep with a look on her face that spoke more than words could ever convey.

He could not believe his eyes at first; he had so many questions. But somewhere, he knew she would always find him.

His beautiful, dark eyed millaflower. Sabé.

Those same eyes were the ones he woke up to, his skin hurting under the ruthless twin suns of Tatooine.

"Obi-Wan, I'm here." she shook him gently, the back of her hand placed against his forehead. "Wake up, let's go home."

He had fallen asleep leaning against the Bantha who was now very awake. She must've brought water canisters with her, one for the animal and one for the two of them.

"You owe me again, old man." she joked as he drank from the canister she held to his lips, exhausted from the heat but mustered up enough strength to stand up with her help, still managing to chuckle. She could never fail to make him feel happy.

They left the Bantha with the water, figuring its herd would eventually find it. With Obi-Wan clinging to her waist and holding the items he had bought from the spaceport, she drove them to their home.

There weren't many words exchanged after that. He was only half aware of their surroundings, soon feeling the warm feeling he always got near the hut.

She got off first, her hair in a simple bun on the back of her head. Holding out her hand and slinging the bag of items over her shoulder, she helped him inside. The suns were going down and their home was starting to cool off, giving the Jedi further comfort.

Wordlessly, she took him by the hand, guiding him to his bed, gently lowering him down. Obi-Wan's curiosity spiked immediately, intrigued and captivated by her eyes as she pushed him on his back, Tatooine's heat all forgotten.

Sabé noticed and flashed him a grin. However, it seemed she had other plans and kneeled next to the bed instead, holding up a tube that he knew all too well. Did he look that bad?

She squeezed some of the content on her hands, leaning over him to apply the cool herbal paste onto his bright red face. Her hands were slightly calloused from years of hard work and Tatooine's climate, yet her touch was gentle.

When she was done with the paste, she cleaned her hands with a small piece of cloth. Her hand then began to massage his scalp in a soothing manner, soon only stroking his head lovingly.

The exhaustion came flooding back once more and Obi-Wan let his eyes close slowly, her focused and determined features being the last thing he saw.

THE EXECUTOR

The canteen's food tasted like shit. But after seeing how TK was enjoying every bite of the rations, Padmé didn't feel like she was in any position to be ungrateful. Even Piett with his title ate in silence.

They were getting stared at and Padmé had to be absolutely brainless to not notice they were staring at her in particular. A woman on board wasn't that rare but a Senator on Darth Vader's personal flagship? Sort of unusual.

Her mind wandered off as she poked at the dry crust of her bread. While she liked TK and Piett, she had to figure out a way to get off the Executor.

If not that, she would at least have to get the information on this new imperial weapon out. Vader underestimated her if he thought she would not find a way to get off the ship.

It would take her several days, weeks even, to gain their trust first. Then, all she needed was a ship or even an escape pod.

She thought of Pooja and Ryoo, Sola and her parents. News of Dormé's murder must've gotten out long ago, she didn't want to know how worried her family was. She missed them so much.

Padmé will set things straight, avenge the lives of her handmaidens, Cordé, Dormé, Versé and Sabé and everyone who lost someone to the Empire.

TK was staring at her as if she had something on her face. "...What?" she asked.

"We asked you if you're done, Milady." Piett replied politely.

Ah, yes. Of course. Padmé nodded, gulping in embarrassment. "Yes, yes. Apologies, I was… merely lost in thought."

Piett gave a nod and stood, taking their trays to dispose of them. TK placed his hand on her shoulder, his helmet still lying on the table. "You aight, Highness?" He looked like Jango Fett, meaning he was one of the remaining clones.

"As good as I can be on Lord Vader's ship." It brought some sort of relief to Padmé, his face reminding her of better times. She smiled at him. "Haven't your comrades given you a name?" she asked, her head tilted.

His mood lightened up, winking at her playfully. "Why, takin' the next step, are ya sweetness?"

She chuckled, a huge grin now plastered on his face. "Well, they call me Tuc. Nothin' special, just less of a pain in the arse than TK-421." he told her, his gloved hands making quotation marks in the air.

"Tuc." she tested the name out on her lips, smirking. "I like it, it suits you."

Piett returned to their table and they stood together. He informed Padmé that he needed to return to his duty but left a comlink with her, one with far more options than the one in her quarters. She thanked him and placed the device in her pocket.

When Piett left, Tuc and Padmé returned to the training room. This time, they didn't pause to stare at her much to her relief.

Tuc led her across the room towards the blaster training section, pointing to a woman with long, black hair and piercing blue eyes who had just spotted them in return. "She's probably the one Vader wanted you to find."

She wore a uniform similar to Padmé's, only less professional with her own touches.

This had to be some sort of Squad, she thought, taking in the others around her who wore matching attire.

"Well, hello there." the woman turned to Padmé with a grin on her face, her blaster hanging over her shoulder. "What's a pretty thing like you doing on Lord Vader's 'lil boat?"

Padmé wasn't amused but rather on edge with her guard up. She had questions and she didn't trust any of these Imperials, not even Tuc. "I guess you'll find out soon enough." she replied, her voice slightly wary.

Blue eyes' grin never faltered, only threw a glance at her companions who were too busy or simply didn't care. "Liyani Q'ysh, at your service Milady."

Padmé nodded politely, currently not in the mood for the other's enthusiasm. Could she be blamed, though? She was being held here against her will, in a very important time of her career. The Alliance must think she's dead if Palo hasn't told them.

"Senator Amidala. Though I'm sure Vader made that clear enough earlier." she replied. Liyani seemed amused at Padmé's tension.

"You always this tense, Milady?"

"Nah, only around you, Q'ysh." Tuc replied, making Liyani raise a brow. "With that hideous face of yours, can you blame her?"

She pushed his shoulder with a roll of her eyes, making Tuc laugh out loud.

"So, I'm gonna assume Mr. Hot-and-Furious left you here to babysit?" she asked dryly, turning back to Padmé.

"Wait, Mr. who?-" shaking her head, Padmé furrowed her brows. "I'll have you know you'll be doing none of the sort."

Raising her chin, Padmé stepped forward and reached out before snatching the sniper rifle out of Liyani's grip. The blue eyed woman looked at her with her brows raised, intrigued as she stepped back next to Tuc, letting Padmé walk past her.

It didn't take long for Padmé to hold the weapon correctly before walking over to the targets, a friend of Liyani looking at her with confused eyes. She merely smiled before setting up the rifle. The next second happened in a flash.

She took aim at the moving targets. They were lined up behind each other, each moving at a different speed. It took Padmé a moment, a deep breath and then she pulled the trigger, a series of gunshots echoing in their part of the large hall.

"Woah there, fine wine." she heard Tuc say, lowering the rifle from her visage so she could look at her work and was satisfied.

She had hit the first five targets that had stopped moving, each one with a burning hole in the middle. Bullseye.

Padmé returned to Liyani's side, all but shoving the weapon back into her grip. "I'll handle myself just fine." she spoke, the authority clear in her voice. She was no damsel. She was a former Queen and a Senator. Padmé Amidala was, quite simply, powerful.

"Don't doubt it for a moment, beautiful."

Although the humor in her voice was present as always, she was impressed. "Well, if not that, why'd he send you here?"

"He probably thinks she doesn't know how to use a blaster. Or to keep her busy, somehow." Turning to Padmé, Tuc continued. "He doesn't like you very much, I guess."

To put it quite plainly.

Padmé snorted. "Oh, really? Well," her expression grew solemn. "If I'm going to be here, might as well show me around then."

They spent the next few hours together, Liyani's friends eventually joining them as well. They were far from trusting each other but they were having fun, even after hours managing to laugh until their stomachs hurt.

Liyani had led them to some Lounge for elites at some point making Padmé wonder who these people actually were. Tuc knew them and clearly felt comfortable around them so they definitely had to be part of the crew.

But Padmé didn't feel like serious talk anymore, especially since things had been awkward and tense because of her in the first place. After the first two drinks, however, even Padmé started having fun.

They played several games and kept changing the rules to their liking but none of them seemed to mind. At some point, she had even considered calling Piett to join them but the thought made her halt and think rationally again. She was still with the enemy, Piett was her enemy just as much as Liyani, Tuc and the others were.

The area was tinted a dark purple, and Padmé still couldn't believe she was on the Executor. Hell, she had even forgotten about Vader and Tarkin's presence on the ship altogether. On top of that, she hadn't even been here a day and yet it felt like several days had gone by. Maybe it was the liquor.

A hand on her shoulder made her snap out of her trance, turning her head to the side. It was a middle aged man with violet eyes and a bunch of scars, human. He raised a brow. "If you keep looking like that you're gonna make them think you're about to cry."

He was simply trying to ask what was wrong, Padmé thought, biting back a snarky reply. Instead, she smiled, appreciating the humor in his tone.

"What makes you think I'm not about to?" she countered, her own brow raising.

He huffed out a laugh. "Well, if that's the case, prepare to make everyone cry with you." Just then, Liyani let out a loud yell, her complaint inaudible to them over the conversations and song playing in the background. He was right, they had more drinks than Padmé could remember, especially with their version of Sabacc right now. Padmé had already stopped a while ago.

"Does that include you?" Her eyes widened slightly. Her tone was more coquette than she had intended it to be, he didn't seem to mind, though.

"Sure don't hope so." he grinned, holding out his hand. "Zor Kryze, Milady."

She shook his hand, a frown on her face and sudden ache in her heart. "A relative of… Satine Kryze, by any chance?"

He looked like he had expected the question, yet something about his expression told her not to ask any further. "Distant. It's complicated."

She nodded, forcing a smile as she retreated her hand. "Well," she attempted to change the topic. "how'd you end up here then?"

"You mean with the Empire?" His gaze went to his friends where a trandoshan male was currently laughing in triumph. A smile of his own curved his lips. "Even the Empire needs Bounty Hunters, Amidala. It's mutually beneficial when the pay is good and excellent work is delivered in return."

He paused as Padmé nodded. It made sense that they are Bounty Hunters. She was surprised they stayed with the Empire like that, though. "Surely you can't call yourself a Bounty Hunter then." she spoke when he didn't continue, making him look at her in curiosity.

"Since working for the Empire means you're basically bound to it, loyal to it." she went on to explain. "Even if you did get paid more by another, you'd have a bounty on your head instead… for treason, namely."

He stared at her in thought, then nodded, seeing her point. "...Assassins then, if you will."

Now he was being honest. Padmé held his gaze, then spoke. "And that's what you do for a living?" Did she ask or was that the liquor asking?

Wrong thing to say. His jaw clenched, visibly holding himself back from saying something he might regret. "I don't think you're in a position to judge, your Highness."

She tried not to flinch at his cold tone. "Just… call me Padmé." He ignored her, or at least didn't seem to acknowledge her request.

"I might work for them but that doesn't mean I agree with everything they do." he spoke, somewhat gentler now. Padmé nodded, not quite convinced yet but decided not to say anything. Taking lives could never be justified, no matter the conditions you lived under. "Some of us simply weren't born with a silver spoon in our mouths. We survived."

He watched her now, letting his words sink in. She couldn't deny the small part of her that felt anger at his assumption that she simply got where she was through privilege.

She had worked day and night, for as long as she could remember, always putting others' needs before her own. But he was right, she still couldn't compare her lifestyle to theirs. She had a choice - they only had that of life and death.

"I understand." she didn't. "Even if I don't agree with taking a life, no matter whose life. But you're right, I shouldn't judge."

His eyes softened in understanding, looking relieved that they found some common ground, at least. "I know."

"You know you're right?" she asked jokingly, brow raised.

"That ain't what I meant." He chuckled in response, their mood going back to playful once again. Padmé breathed out in relief.

"I know." she repeated his words with a grin, and they laughed together.

Suddenly, her mind flashed Palo's face, remembering the many happy moments she shared with him. Padmé had little experience in the dating field, the closest she had come to it being her short romance with Rush Clovis.

Palo had always been more of a friend than a lover, even if they had shared a kiss before. They never talked about it again, going back to being friends as if nothing had happened. Their friendship was natural, based on mutual respect. At least Padmé felt that way.

She saw a lot of him in Zor. Both of them were attractive, too. Zor's head was shaved clean, covered in Tattoos that gave away his Mandalorian identity. He had beautiful purple eyes, dark brows and a strong build. Not like Palo with his looks but attractive nonetheless.

But it wasn't attractive enough to Padmé. Even while their personalities were even better and they would be good for Padmé. Her mother had told her many times to find a nice man and settle down even if her father wished the opposite, often hinting at Palo.

But Padmé craved something else. She wanted to feel, she didn't want anything perfect. She wanted raw emotion. And while the rational part of her mind told her it was stupid, self destructive thinkning, she didn't care. Sabé had always been one for the good hearted guys while having a wild streak herself.

The comlink Piett gave her blinked with a message, telling her to return to her quarters, and she knew her time with her new friends had ended. For today, or forever, she wasn't sure.

Standing up, she turned to Zor with a gentle smile, her hand on his beskar pauldron. "I'm afraid I have to leave now."

He took her hand in his own, holding her gaze as he pressed his lips against the back of her hand. "I'm glad I had the opportunity to talk to you, Padmé."

She felt her cheeks heat up, most likely because of the drinks she had, and finally turned away from him to Liyani and Tuc.

Liyani's straight, ebony hair was no longer tied but now wildly on her shoulders, blue eyes sparking with life. She definitely had the most fun out of them all.

"Oh, goodbye, my love. Promise you'll come back tomorrow." she spoke, sloshed as she held Padmé's face between her hands with a wide smile.

"I'll try." Padmé chuckled, gripping her forearms and squeezed affectionately. She saw Liyani's face fall as the blue eyed woman looked behind Padmé and at Zor. Turning, she glanced at Zor confusedly, and then at Liyani who was now patting Padmé's back.

"Yes, yes, of course." the woman said, much sobered out of a sudden and a small smile on her face, slowly letting Padmé go.

Tuc guided the confused Senator out of the lilac lounge, and walked her towards her chambers.

"What was that all about?" she asked the Trooper who now had his helmet back on.

"Not sure, sugar." he shrugged. "Ya know Bounty Hunters, them and their secret language."

Feeling much more inebriated now, she decided to drop it for now and simply ask Liyani herself next time.

They arrived at the blast door that led to her chambers. Tuc halted next to the door, motioning inside. "You go to sleep now. Had way too much fun today."

"What about you?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

Tuc chuckled, opening the door for her. "Don't worry 'bout me. You go now."

She agreed, sleep was much needed. "Goodnight, Tuc." she nodded and stepped into the secured hall, feeling the door shut behind her after a muffled "G'night, Sweetness".

She became much more aware of her surroundings now, seeing three doors in front of her. The hallway's lights were only faint, almost like cold candlelight. Which one of these doors led to her chambers?

Padmé would've gone for the middle one but felt drawn to the right one and felt her feet carry her to the blast door, smaller than the one she had just gone through.

Her fingers hovered over the button to make the door slide open, something telling her to step back while something else lured her inside.

Of course, being Padmé, she listened to the latter feeling, her fingers pressing down and the door slid open. She stepped inside, the room revealing nothing but darkness as the door behind her slid shut again, making her jump slightly.

Her room had lights that went on automatically so she knew she chose the wrong door. But it was too late.

She saw the bright, red light before she heard the deadly hum of a lightsaber, the brightness of the weapon illuminating the unmistakable shadowed figure.

It happened too quickly for Padmé, her back suddenly hitting the door behind her without remembering to have taken a step back. The blade came horizontally against her neck in the very next moment and she didn't trust herself to exhale as fear paralyzed her from head to toe.

She had walked straight into the monster's cage.

AUTHORS NOTE:

Ahh, I loved including Sabé!
And there's not many Vader moments in this one but I promise, the next chapter will be mainly Vader and Padmé! As for the OC's in this chapter, I hope they're not too much and don't make the story confusing. But they're needed for Padmé's character development. So in short, they're a group of selected Bounty Hunters that work for the Empire.

Hope you liked the chapter :) Take care, until next time!