The Penpal Paradox/Chapter Sixteen

There was a hand on her shoulder, urging her to move, but she was too stunned to comply, in too much shock to realize her life was in jeopardy. Smoke blinded her, the repercussion of the recent explosion rang shrill in her ears. It was the smell, however, which overcame her. The acrid scent of burning flesh filled her nostrils.

Beneath her own hands was a body; bloody, bruised and burned. She recognized the victim but denied the truth of her own sight.

"No…"

"Come Senator," a deep voice accompanied the grip upon her shoulder. "You're in danger here."

"No…" Everything was fine, this was all just a bad dream. "No!"

"Come," the voice told her more forcefully, the strong hands lifting her up from where she knelt upon the scorched landing platform.

She stumbled backward, away from the devastation, unsure of where to go or what she was supposed to do. She couldn't think!

"Captain!" I've got her. It's okay." A more familiar voice took over and a far more gentle touch held her arm, escorting her to an emergency transport.

"Drink this," the friendly hands delivered something in a glass which had a strong odor and tasted quite foul.

Padmé squeezed her eyes shut but couldn't erase the horrific scene from her mind. Nor could she erase the memory of the cries of anguish she'd heard. The attack had come swift and without warning and had been meant for her.

Tears refused to come, even after the initial shock was beginning to wear off. In place of any despair was anger: A deep-seated, vengeful anger. Padmé had never been the type of person to seek revenge, however, and typically chose to use her temper in a positive way.

She jumped up from the sofa where Dormé had deposited her and stepped quickly to her bathroom. She needed to remove the soot and smoke from her hair and the blood stains from her hands.

"Slow down," Dormé warned from behind the closed door. "You might still be in shock!"

"I'm pissed, that's what I am!" she yelled out from the shower.

Padmé scrubbed her skin vigorously and fueled her resentment for the cowards who thought an assassination attempt would stop her. She had news for them. Not only was she going forward with her vote against the Military Creation Act, but she was now determined more than ever to put a stop to it once and for all.

"Perhaps you should stay..."

"Don't even suggest it," she told Dormé as soon as she stepped from the steamy room. "I have every intention on keeping this meeting with the Chancellor and you're going with me. I won't allow Cordé's sacrifice be for nothing."

All the members of the Loyalist Committee were present for the meeting. In addition, there were also a few Padmé didn't expect to see. Word of the attack had spread quickly, and apparently, the Chancellor felt the need to contact the Jedi. Several Masters were already in Palpatine's office before she arrived. They were arguing about the possibility of war as she and the other committee members entered the room.

"To see you alive brings warm feelings to my heart," Master Yoda kindly said, rising to greet her.

"Thank you, Master Yoda. Do you have any idea who was behind this attack?"

Padmé had her suspicions and voiced them, to the disagreement of many present. Everyone seemed to agree, however, that the situation was serious and required an increase in security. Everyone but her.

"I already have my own private security and really don't need any more," she argued, realizing she was most likely going to lose this debate. Chancellor Palpatine, being from her home planet had always felt responsible for her safety.

"I realize more security might be disruptive for you," the galactic leader was saying, "but perhaps if it's someone you're familiar with. Say…someone like Master Kenobi?"

Padmé felt her jaw drop and literally lifted it back up with her hand. What could she say that they would understand? How could she refuse without having to explain something she couldn't? Only Master Yoda could possibly comprehend her hesitance and the oldest Jedi wasn't saying a word.

"I…I" she stuttered.

"Surely you remember him, MiLady." Palpatine continued to explain, appearing quite pleased with his suggestion. "He watched over you during the blockade conflict."

Padmé chuckled nervously. "I assure you, that's not necessary," she managed to say.

"Do it for me, MiLady, please? I will rest easier. We had a big scare today. The thought of losing you is unbearable."

How could she refuse without causing a scene? "Very well," she forced herself to say.

"I thank you all for coming. I will continue to put off the vote as long as I can. We must stand together and not allow this Republic which has stood for over a thousand years be split in two."

The committee grumbled in agreement with the chancellor's statement as they stood to leave. Padmé hurried to stop Master Yoda on her way out.

"May I speak with you for a moment, please? Alone?"

The other Jedi with him both raised a suspicious brow but graciously obliged.

"Of course, Senator," he replied kindly and then waited on her patiently while she figured out what to say.

"I'm…uncertain having Master Kenobi be my protector is such a good idea. He stopped writing to me nearly ten years ago. Things didn't exactly end well between us."

"Hmmm," the small Jedi grumbled. "A perfect time to patch those things up this will be then, hm?"

"No. No, that's not what I'm saying. I really don't think he wants to see me," Padmé continued, hoping Yoda would listen before she was forced to beg.

"Unresolved conflict, erode away all hope and happiness, it will."

Yoda's words sunk her hopes. No matter what excuse she came up with, she was sure he'd have some ancient quote of wisdom to convince her otherwise.

He smiled, knowing he had won and began hobbling away, only to pause and speak over his shoulder at her. "Besides, unsure you can be, this Obi-Wan is the one with whom you've been speaking."

Wait. What?

Padmé stepped forward to ask Master Yoda to clarify his statement, but the diminutive Jedi had miraculously already made it to the lift. He sure moved fast whenever he wanted to, she noted wryly.

"Good day to you, Senator Amidala," he stated as the doors closed.