Chapter 7 – Prescience

A torrent of visions flowed from Padmé's mind to Ahsoka's. They flashed before her eyes, and Padmé winced at each horrific scene. For every night that month she had been experiencing these portentous nightmares. While the images were muddled and the contexts uncertain, the takeaway was crystal clear.

Anakin was in danger.

She saw him through a pane of glass, his face contorted with pain. He raised a fist over his shoulder but stopped himself. His whole arm shook and then he was turning away.

Anakin! Come back! Don't leave me!

He was walking side by side with Obi-Wan down the red-carpeted corridor of the Jedi Temple. His jaw was set and his eyes stormy. Obi-Wan was pleading with him to reconsider something.

Anakin, this is a horrible mistake. You'd be throwing your life away.

He shook his head with a growl.

I won't let them get away with this, Master.

Anakin stood in the center of the council chamber. Hands held in front of his body, he seemed far more at ease than before. Twelve masters stared at him with mixed expressions of disgust, disappointment, and in the case of Obi-Wan, sympathy.

I will no longer live a lie.

Windu spoke, his voice rife with acrimony.

We have no choice but to strip you of your title as Jedi Knight.

Anakin bowed his head.

I understand. He paused, the chamber deathly still. And in exchange?

It was Windu who answered coldly.

We have considered your request and have decided to deny it.

Anakin's calm demeanor shattered at this assessment.

What? But we had a deal!

We never agreed to anything, Skywalker.

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, his expression livid.

You promised!

A conflicted Obi-Wan looked back and forth between Anakin and Windu.

Anakin, I'm sorry.

You're sorry? You betrayed me!

She scarcely recognized her husband's voice. It was shrill, caustic, and full of vitriol.

You will pay for this! All of you will pay!

The scene exploded. The council chamber was now empty, the curved windows shattered to pieces and the marble floor strewn with rubble. Flames licked at the walls and an acrid smoke slowly spread until the whole room was obscured by the cloud. Through the haze, she could make out a murky figure. It was on the ground, writhing in pain. An anguished voice called out to it.

You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!

The image cleared, and the woeful figure was revealed to be Anakin. Yet he hardly resembled the man she knew as her husband. His face was contorted with fury and his eyes were burning yellow. He was ruined.

He was Vader.

Padmé's head jerked back. Her body was trembling and her skin was clammy with sweat. The horrible visions were gone, replaced by a terrified Ahsoka staring back at her with wide eyes. She was seated on the couch with her knees pulled into her chest.

"Padmé?"

She sounded so small, like a little girl. Her fear, her insecurity, her vulnerability – they all reminisced of her younger self.

"There you have it," Padmé said. Despite her best efforts, her voice was shaky. She hadn't wanted to show how afraid she was. But perhaps that was one lie even she couldn't pull off.

"Was that real?"

"It will be."

Ahsoka looked away. "Anakin would never –"

"Wouldn't he?"

Padmé raised herself off the couch and loomed over Ahsoka. She rested her hands over her midsection, her posture simultaneously aggressive and defensive.

"My master intends to use my pregnancy to manipulate him. Our unborn child is a pawn in his sick game." Ahsoka's eyes darted down, her mouth hanging ajar. Padmé allowed this revelation to sink in before continuing. "I intend to prevent everything you just saw. My husband won't be forced to suffer." Once again, she paused. When she took a step forward, Ahsoka craned her head – seemingly unable to look away from Padmé's fiery eyes. "You have a simple choice. Either you help me save Anakin, or you do nothing and watch your master fall. So what's it going to be?"

Ahsoka didn't respond, but Padmé knew she had her in the palm of her hand now. Her new apprentice would be loyal henceforth.

Δ Δ Δ

Padmé slept in late that morning. Sharing her nightmares with Ahsoka had proven to be cathartic for her. She could scarcely remember having such a good night sleep.

Slipping out of bed, she checked the chrono on the wall and felt her heart jump. Was it already noon? How come Sabé or one of her other handmaidens hadn't come to wake her? She rushed to the fresher and hastily splashed some water on her face. Without bothering to get changed, she burst out of her bedroom to check in on her apprentice.

"Ahsoka? Are you –"

She arrived in the living room to find Ahsoka seated with a mug of caf in hand. Opposite her on the other couch was her sister.

"Sola!"

Sola turned to give her a smile. "Morning, Padmé."

"What's going on? Why are you here?"

"Are you not happy to see me?"

"I… no, I just –"

Sola cut her off with a chuckle. "See what I mean?" she said to Ahsoka.

Padmé felt her face turn warm. "Were you talking about me?"

"Oh, we were just chatting," Sola said, standing up from the couch.

Padmé crossed her arms. "About me?"

"Well, yes."

"What did she say?" Padmé asked Ahsoka.

"Relax, would you?" Sola said, rolling her eyes. "It was just harmless gossip, nothing more."

"Is that so?"

Sola's expression turned impish. "Actually, Ahsoka asked me about you and Anakin."

"Did she now?"

"I didn't have much to tell her, unfortunately. I've never even met the man."

Padmé nodded absently. "Well hopefully you will soon."

Sola glanced back and forth between her and Ahsoka. "So listen, I told Sabé not to come this morning."

"Why'd you do that?"

"I figured you and Ahsoka might want to work some things out first."

Padmé considered this. "I suppose that was a good idea. Thank you, Sola."

"Fair warning, Sabé wasn't happy about it. She might have an aneurism if you don't get to the Senate ASAP."

Padmé grimaced. "I'd better get ready then."

"Let me fix you something to eat. Be right back."

Sola patted her shoulder before departing for the kitchen. Padmé watched her go with an appreciative smile. She disappeared down the hallway, and Padmé turned to Ahsoka.

"You have questions?" she asked.

"I was just curious, that's all," Ahsoka said, her voice small.

Padmé hesitated at how anxious Ahsoka was in her presence, especially in relation to how easy-going she seemed to have been with Sola.

"Well ask away, if you care to know," Padmé said. She stepped forward and sat down where Sola had been on the couch.

Ahsoka looked skeptical. "Really? You'd tell me if I asked?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Sola said…"

"Sola said what?" Padmé asked when she trailed off.

Ahsoka spared a guilty look for the hallway where Sola had gone. "She said you don't like to share much."

This was true. Perhaps it was a force of habit, but Padmé preferred to keep the details of her relationship with Anakin a secret to Sola and Jobal. Or maybe she didn't want to talk about it because of how guilty it made her feel.

"What do you want to know?" she insisted.

Ahsoka looked down at the floor. "You're married?"

"For three years."

"How did it happen?"

Padmé bit back the impulse to reject the question. It was personal. That's what she would say to her mother and sister. But Ahsoka was different. She knew Anakin. She deserved to know.

"He and Master Kenobi were assigned to protect me," she said. "I was the target of several assassination attempts. In reality, the attempts on my life were a ruse, but the Jedi didn't know that."

"A ruse? What do you mean?"

Padmé licked her lips. Once again, she found her hands drifting to her midsection. "I'm a pawn, Ahsoka. My master chose me to fulfill a single purpose." She took a shuddering breath and shook her head. "My job was to seduce Anakin. It was a despicable and vulgar task, but I did it. I flaunted myself like a –" Biting her tongue, Padmé cut off that ugly train of thought. "I did what my master asked of me, but something unexpected happened."

"What?" Ahsoka asked.

"I fell in love." Her voice was hoarse, emotionless. Ahsoka's brow twitched at this stark delivery. "It was selfish of me, but I couldn't help myself. Anakin was just so…" She stopped herself. That was truly too personal to share. "You know Anakin. It's hard not to love him. He's such a good person." Her lip curled with disdain for herself. "Unlike me."

Ahsoka didn't correct her, but Padmé hadn't expected her to. The pair sat in heavy silence for a long while as they both stared determinedly at the floor.

"Your sister thinks you're a good person."

Padmé snorted. "She would."

"She said you can be difficult, but you're well-intentioned."

"Well-intentioned," Padmé echoed. She looked up to meet Ahsoka's gaze. "What do you think about that?"

"About what?"

"Am I well-intentioned?"

Ahsoka frowned. "I don't know."

Padmé suppressed a growl at this response. "Let me put it to you this way: Do you think I have my husband's best interests at heart?"

"I… well, yes –"

"Then by definition I am well-intentioned," Padmé snapped. "The only thing that matters to me is my family. My parents, my sister, my baby, and of course, my husband. Do you doubt that?" Ahsoka shook her head, lekku swinging. "Good. That is what should matter to you. Forget what the Jedi taught you about the dark side. There is so much they do not understand."

"Such as?"

Padmé bristled at her apprentice's impertinence. "The Jedi claim to know love, but they don't allow themselves to have families or form attachments."

"That's because –"

"Because it's a weakness? Tell me, is my husband weak? Am I weak? No!"

Ahsoka opened her mouth to say something, but evidently she thought better of it. Padmé took another breath, determined to maintain her composure.

"The Jedi are a broken institution. They have allowed the Sith to regain power because of their backward ways and ancient dogma. The sooner you realize this, the more empowered you will become. Accept my teaching and I will make you strong."

Ahsoka offered no response. Padmé was about to insist more forcefully when her sister returned. Sola was carrying a bowl which she offered to her.

"Oatmeal?" she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Don't you complain. It'll do in a pinch."

"I guess," Padmé grumbled. She accepted the bowl and took a tentative bite. Sola sighed when she made a face.

"So petulant," she bemoaned.

Padmé didn't really mind the oatmeal. She just enjoyed giving her sister a hard time. After all, she had twenty-five years of being a younger sibling to make up.

"I'll pick out something for you to wear," Sola told her. "I didn't mention it earlier, but Sabé said the Chancellor contacted your office this morning. He apparently wants to meet with you."

Padmé tensed. Sola had no idea who the Chancellor was to her, and she intended to keep it that way. "Did he?" she said, struggling to keep her voice casual. "I wonder what that's about."

Could he have found out what she had done last night? She had long feared that he was spying on her somehow. Going down to the lower levels of Coruscant had been a risk. She would have to come up with an explanation if he asked…

"Eat that, okay?" Sola said. "It's good for you. The baby agrees with me."

Padmé rolled her eyes. "The baby always agrees with you."

"That's because I'm always right." She leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "I'll only be a minute."

Padmé blushed down at her oatmeal. Her sister was an awfully affectionate sort. In many ways, she was the complete opposite of her. Sola wore her emotions on her sleeve while Padmé actively sought to suppress them.

"What's the plan? Am I just going to stay here?" Ahsoka asked.

"Is it so bad here?"

"So I'm your prisoner?"

"My apprentice," Padmé corrected. "This is for your own good as well as mine. If my master were to learn about you, that would be a very bad thing."

"Who is this master you keep talking about?"

Padmé glanced down the hallway. "We will discuss this later when we are alone."

She contemplated the wisdom of this course of action. If Ahsoka was to be her apprentice, she needed to know that Palpatine was Sidious. Even so, Padmé felt uncomfortable about disclosing that information. It somehow felt like worse of a betrayal than everything she had done up to this point.

"I'll be back tonight," Padmé said. "Take time to prepare yourself."

"For what?"

"For your training, of course."

"What kind of training?"

Padmé's tone darkened. "The painful kind." She paused to reconsider before amending. "The right kind."

Δ Δ Δ

Padmé was a regular guest to the Chancellor's office. She knew the drill. Stopping before the two armed security droids, she identified herself and waited for permission to enter. Once it was given, she strode forth into Palpatine's vast yet conspicuously sparse office.

"Ah, Senator Amidala. Welcome."

She heightened her shields at the formal greeting. He only ever called her by that name when they were in the presence of others. And in this case, the others in question happened to be the two most influential Jedi Masters on the Council. Padmé jerked with surprise when Yoda and Windu turned to see her standing at the bottom of the red-carpeted stairs.

"We were just discussing the war. It seems our fortunes have finally taken a turn for the better."

Padmé gave the two Jedi a stiff nod. "That is good news," she managed. It was odd that both Windu and Yoda were present to share this information with the Chancellor. The latter typically did not involve himself in these types of affairs. Could it be that there was more to this meeting than met the eye?

"I hear Master Skywalker has made quite a name for himself," Palpatine commented.

"Skywalker's performance has been admirable," Windu said without approbation.

"I would very much like to congratulate him for his efforts at Christophsis. Tell me, when do you think he might return?"

Padmé stiffened at the question, but quickly made to suppress her reaction. "He is quite busy in the Outer Rim," Windu answered.

"Return to Coruscant, Skywalker will not for some time," Yoda added.

"I see," Palpatine said as Padmé deflated. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Masters. It is always a pleasure."

The two Jedi got to their feet and bowed. As they turned around, Yoda spared her a curious look. She met his gaze while he descended the stairs.

"Senator, take a seat."

At Palpatine's instruction, Padmé passed the departing Jedi and sat down on the chair Windu had previously occupied. She and her master waited in silence for their enemies to leave.

"What did you wish to discuss?" Padmé finally asked.

Palpatine offered her a thin smile. "Must I always have an agenda?"

Yes. He always did. But Padmé wasn't going to say that.

"So this is a social call?"

"You and I both have been far too busy of late. When did we talk last?"

"A month?" she suggested, as if she hadn't been counting the days. The lack of communication between them was unprecedented, and while she was grateful to be away from his hawkish gaze, she couldn't deny that it caused her considerable concern. Did he no longer trust her? What else could be the reason?

"Perhaps longer," Palpatine mused. His expression turned soft, almost cloying. "I remember the days when you waited all day for me to return from work. You could be so impatient back then."

What was going on? Was Palpatine… nostalgic? Surely not. He must be trying to manipulate her somehow.

"And now look at you. Such a strong, independent woman. You hardly need me anymore, do you?"

Was that a concealed message? Was he trying to say he knew what she was up to?

"You are my master," she said rather flatly.

"Indeed," Palpatine sighed. He seemed disappointed about something. Looking away from her, he drummed his fingers gently against the desk. "How are you doing?"

"Well," was her automatic response.

"And the pregnancy? How is that treating you?"

Padmé clamped down her anger. Of course he wanted to know about that. Her baby was his weapon, and he needed to be kept apprised on its progress.

"Quite well, thank you."

Palpatine's expression turned somber. "I do hope your husband will return soon."

"So do I," Padmé said, her voice thick.

"You don't have to worry, my dear. You won't be separated for too much longer. I will see to that."

That piqued her curiosity. "How so?"

"The crescendo is near."

Palpatine loved this metaphor. His machinations were the symphony, the galaxy his orchestra, and wielding the baton at the stand was himself as its conductor.

"The Jedi will fall?" Padmé asked, projecting innocence.

"And you and I will rise," Palpatine said. He got to his feet to convey the image. "But there is a problem."

"A problem?" she echoed.

"A crimp in our plans, nothing more. Something I hadn't anticipated."

"What would that be?"

Palpatine began to walk away toward the window with his hands held behind his back. "An old ally gone rogue," he said, his voice sibilant yet clear. "He seeks vengeance."

"Whom?"

"Maul."

Padmé stood up from her seat. "I thought you dealt with him?"

"I thought as much," Palpatine grumbled. "If only he had died on Naboo like I intended. He has been a thorn in my side ever since he reemerged."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing, for now. He is too insignificant to worry about. But in the future he will need to be dealt with. A united Mandalore presents a grave threat to us."

"Mandalore? You mean to say he's returned?"

"Why yes. Maul is nothing if not persistent."

As Palpatine continued to peer out the window, Padmé looked down at her feet and considered. She disliked Maul. He was a brute who had neither the cunning nor class of his former master. The barbaric execution of Mandalore's Duchess – a woman whom Padmé had genuinely been quite fond of – was a bitter memory.

But even so, Maul could be a valuable tool. Palpatine was right to fear a united Mandalore. Its warrior culture and far-sweeping galactic influence could make it a grave threat to Palpatine's future empire. With Maul at the helm, that threat would only be graver still. Could she turn Maul into her ally like she had done with Dooku?

There was only one way to find out.