*** Chapter Eight ***

Padme's election to the highest and only elected office in Naboo was an overwhelming victory. She won by some of the highest margins in the history of the throne. Many would have taken this as auspicious beginning. Padme was more worried it would be a curse on her time in office, terrified that she could never live up to the expectations set by her constituents.

The Life and Times of Amidala, the People's Queen, By: Softa Jiane, Oralist and Historian

Luke and Palak took their seats at a café just down the street from the Oralist center. They had a couple of hours before Luke's appointment Gerty Rea, the Oralist that maintained the great ancient story of the Isolationists and Palak had offered to talk to Luke in a less formal setting about the research she had been doing.

"The Isolationists, I mean, the planet cannot survive on its own, all worlds need free trade." Luke argued, as if he were a policy expert.

Palak sighed, "But that's not the way the protestors see it. This world has been through everything, the Empire, the Old Republic, trade federation, mining guilds. In the best cases, these groups brought a small amount of additional prosperity, allowing for additional intergalactic trade of Naboo luxury items. In the worst cases, resources were stolen from world, our planet only becoming worse off."

"Are you an isolationist?" Luke inquired earnestly, they had not had this conversation yet. Their acquittance only hours old.

Palak shrugged her shoulders. "I mean, I get both sides. I think the benefit of being part of a galactic community is undervalued by many Nabooans. I also think that people are weary, with reason. And they have the luxury of it as well. Unlike many planets, we can survive on our own, even thrive."

"I get fighting for what you believe in, but this just seems detrimental." Luke argued.

"I'm not going to be able explain it properly, but I am going back out to tomorrow afternoon to do more research. You should come, I think it would be good for you to come experience for yourself."

"Yeah, of course, but I thought I would be identified as off worlder" Luke replied.

"I think we can fix that."

Before Luke could ask what she meant, a waiter approached the table, "What can I get you?" He asked.

Luke picked up the menu and pointed to an item. "Do these dumplings have favttie beans in them?"

"Yes, most of our menu items do." He answered, confused.

"What doesn't?" Asked Luke, blushing red. He hated this, it was rare he had an opportunity to eat at a café and now he had to inquire after nearly every menu option.

"These noodles." The waiter answered.

"Those then," Luke responded, unsure what he had actually chosen, but confident it would not cause his throat to close up.

Palak put in her order much more gracefully and then once the waiter had walked away, the said, "Wow, you really are not a fan of favttie beans, are you?"

"I'm allergic," Luke admitted.

"It's a good thing you're not from this planet then." Palak said with a wave of her arm, the same one with the Tattoo.

"Yeah, I guess so." Luke paused and then said, "Your tattoo, what is it?" Luke inquired, hoping this was the right opportunity to ask.

"Oh, uh my great grandmother was a former Queen of Naboo. This was her symbol. But it's really popular all over the plant. Queen Pnina championed the rights of labor and this symbol has become sort of the workings man's emblem."

Luke nodded, privately grateful. He was growing to like the Oralist and it would be disappointing to learn that she was a secrete enemy.

"How about you, you're a Jedi and Luke Skywalker, your way more interesting than me." Palak shifted the conversation away before Luke was able to ask more questions.

"What do you want to know?" Luke questioned. He was not really sure what she was asking.

"All of the Jedi are supposed to be dead, right?" Palak asked.

"There were a few who survived, and they taught me." Luke responded.

"But not everything?" Palak asked. "That's why your so interested in Jedi stories?"

"Yes," Luke confirmed "You really don't know any stories of the Jedi?" Luke asked, again hopeful.

"Probably not any more than you. You know, just the bedtime stories about intergalactic heroes. Nothing specific or even accurate. Remember, the Empire founded the Oralist Center, no one is allowed to talk about the Jedi."

The waiter brought their food, Palak's dish was an amazing assortment of dumplings, Luke's was a sad, weeping pile of noodles.

"I'm not sure how long you're on Naboo for, but it is going to be a long stay not being able to eat favttie beans." Palak chuckled.

Luke groaned and tasted the soggy noodles. "It's still a lot better than the rations I've been eating for five years."

The two continued to talk. Luke talked about his time flying an X-Wing. He didn't need to add any embellishment to his stories, he had destroyed one of the death stars after all, but he did not hold back either. He wanted to impress Palak and she was one of the first girls he had met in a long time that were not deeply involved in the war effort harden to any stories he could impress with.

In turn Palak talked about her work at the center. Her passion for keeping oral tradition true and intense.

They walked back to center and still had a few minutes before the appointment with Gerty Rea. "I have something you may be interested in." Palak said as the entered they center.

"Sure," Luke responded, following her lead.

Palak lead Luke to another smaller, but no less grand hall. The walls lined with large oil paintings, rare in the galaxy. Typically, real paintings were persevered and holo replicas were displayed.

"This is the Hall of Queens. Every Queen who has served our world has had her painting placed in the hall." Palak then walked a few paces and said, "This, is Queen Pnina, my great grandmother." Luke looked at the picture of a young woman in a simple shift dress. Her dark hair was down and loose at her shoulders and her makeup was simple, highlighting stunning green eyes. The only jewelry she was wearing was the crescent moon with the nine-pointed star on a chain around her neck. The look was in direct contrast to the paint and layers worn by Queen Shear.

"I love these paintings of the Queens, typically, all if the imagery of the Queens is in their big dresses and white face paint. Their hair wrapped up in interact braids. But these paintings are meant to depict the person that had been our queen rather than the office." Palak said, airily.

"She's beautiful." Luke said, more to fill space than anything.

"I think so." Palak agreed and then walked a few more paces. "This is what I wanted to show you. I may not be able to give you any stories of the Jedi and the Queen, but I can at least show you her painting. Introducing, Queen Amidala."

Luke looked up the painting and was a bit taken aback. Unlike the photo in the Holonovel he had read, where all the pictures had the queen made up in full royal finery, in this rendering of the queen, she was wearing a simple white dress and her brown hair was platted into two coils on either side of her head. She was petite and her brown eyes shown beautifully. He squinted, sure his eyes were deceiving him. Had the painting not been so formally introduced by Palak and labeled with a little gold plate at the bottom of the frame, Luke would have argued that the painting was actually of Leia.

Luke shook his head as if to clear the imagine out of his mind. There was a thought bubbling up in the back of his mind, but it seemed implausible. He had finished the Queen's biography on the way here, branded the official recollection of the former leader and the book had confirmed that the Queen had died with her baby still in the womb. And, while no one was able to confirm the father of the not born child, the book had discussed the likelihood of it being one Amidala's aids when she was a senator.

Luke looked back up at the painting and realized the while the queen was wearing a simple dress and her hair braided in coils, she looked less like Leia then he had initially decided. It was just hopeful thinking on Luke's part, his brain attempting to create a story that would never exist.

"Hey, it's time to meet Gerty." Palak pulled Luke away from the painting and started her walk back to the offices.

"You sure looked at the Queen's picture for a while?" Palak probed.

"Oh, she just kind of reminded someone I know." Luke responded.

"A girl?"

"A friend." Luke replied, putting emphasis on the word "Friend".

They arrived in front a closed office door, the only thing differentiating it from the other doors that lined the walls was a small tarnished name plate that simply read "Gerty Rea."

Palak knocked on the door and then waited few seconds. Nothing happened. Palak knocked again. Again, no response. On the third time, Palak also called Gerty's name. Still nothing.

"Maybe she's not there?" Luke asked.

"Unlikely, she's really good about honoring her appointments, even the last few months where she's been in high demand." Palak explained.

"Should we open the door, make sure everything is all right?" Luke questioned.

"Hmm, I guess." Palak then knocked one more time and pushed the door open.

The duo were met with an empty desk. The office was tidy, but the furniture shabby. There was nothing on the worn desk besides a couple of data pads stacked up on one side. The walls were a dingy pale yellow.

"She's not here." Palak said, astonishment in her voice.

Luke look around. He could not get a clear response from the force, but he still had the feeling that something was not right. He spotted something on the ground. It looked like spilled tea. He walked over to the other side of the desk where we saw an elderly lady laying on the floor. A broken mug next to her and tea spilling out.

"Palak, get help." Luke yelled from his position behind the desk.

Palak ran towards Luke instead of an away, caught a glimpse of the incapacitated Oralist and then ran out of the room.

Luke knelt so that he was level with the lady. He placed his pointer and middle finger against her neck, where a human's pulse beats, but he felt nothing. She was still warm, and her face still looked alive. Luke bent his head down and listened for a breath, but he could not hear anything. She was laying on her side and he rolled her on her back and started resuscitation attempts.

Luke was only vaguely aware of the growing crowd, focused on the potential life saving motions. He had been working for a few minutes when we heard the nasally mechanical voice of a droid. "Sir, step aside, I am trained in life saving procedures."

Luke stood up, the knees of his pants soaked through with the woman's split tea. He stood behind the droid, ready to step back in with his limited medical training if it were to become necessary.

The droid quickly brought out needles, pumps and electric paddles hidden away its body cavity and started to use them on the woman in a very quick manner. Luke, along with a small crowd at the door to the office, watched with batted breath as the droid worked meticulously to revive the woman. After 10 minutes, the droid stood from its crouched position on the floor and said in a less urgent, almost solemn voice. "Time of death, sixteen hundred hours."

Just seconds after the droid had declared woman dead, two uniformed medical personnel arrived. They cleared the office of the crowd before taking the body out of the room.

Palak retreated to her office and Luke followed.

"Are you okay." Luke asked, feeling stupid, she was most certainly not okay.

"I'll be okay. It's more of a shock than anything. I mean, no one expect to go work and see one of their co-worker's dead." Palak explained.

"Did you know her well?" Luke asked.

"No not really, she was headed for retirement soon and she had passed most of her stories to other Oralist with the exception of the one everyone cares about." Palak explained, her voice steady, but the effort to keep it that way was obvious.

"Do you think, maybe, foul play, I mean she was telling the Isolationists story?" Luke questioned.

"She was old, her health problems were not exactly a secret." Palak said, her voice had turned weary.

Luke nodded and opened his mouth to say something else but before he could speak, Palak interrupted. "Look, Luke appreciate everything, but I kind of just want to be alone."

"Uh, sure." Luke said, as he went to leave Palak's office.

"I'll meet you tomorrow at eleven hundred hours. Outside the palace walls, same place we met today?" Palak confirmed.

"You still want to meet tomorrow." Luke questioned, sure she would want to be with her fellow Oralist.

"I need to work still and this place is going to be a mad house. You might as well join me." Palak responded.

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Luke said and left the office. Making the ascent out of the Oralist center was like walking through emotional sludge. Luke could feel as each person learned of the death of Gerty Rea, the same extremely fresh shock of grief, over and over and over again.