A/N: You have no idea how much your kind reviews mean to me. Thank you so much, especially for the two I got on my last chapter, which I was very nervous about. Please keep them coming.

Sio Bibble

We all stared at Palpatine's hologram in the middle of the throne room floor. It had been years since the man had communicated directly with us, with the Royal Council of Naboo. Not since he had been elected Chancellor. The fact that he would do so now immediately put me on alert.

The moment the transmission was announced, I felt not pleasure, not wonder, but dread. A creeping feeling of unmitigated dread. Something had happened. Matters were about to grow worse.

I wish I had not been so right.

We all stared at Palpatine's hologram. He looked bad. His reign as Chancellor had already aged him beyond his years, the scars from the recent attempt on his life were there now and, in addition to all of that, he was weighted by what we soon found was most intense grief. He faced the Queen, but she said nothing yet; despite the ceremonial makeup mean to make her appear impassive, it was easy to see that she was badly shaken by this. As was I. As were we all.

But I was the one to break the silence at last.

"Chancellor—Emperor, what are you talking about?"

"I am sorry, my old friend, and Your Highness, to present this news to you. You must know that I understand what you are feeling. But it is true. Padmé Amidala is dead. She was killed by Jedi. She was pregnant when she died. I will give you all the details I know so that you might inform her family, should you choose. Some of this, however, I strongly feel should not become public knowledge."

And then he told us how, from what he had been able to piece together, a Jedi who had so far escaped persecution on Coruscant had found her apartment, forced her to take him to her skiff and transport him off planet, killed her, sent a distress signal, landed on an Outer Rim world, stolen another ship, and left her there. The Senator from Alderaan had answered her ship's distress signal and found her, and was now bringing her body home to Naboo. He would arrive within hours.

I heard all of this, but comprehension was slow to come. My mind was reeling. I kept trying to picture Padmé Amidala as she'd been when I'd last seen her. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't even remember when that had been. Months ago, surely—there had been no sign of her being pregnant—but was it a meeting here in the throne room? At a charity benefit? I kept trying to pin it down, to get a clear picture of it in my mind, but all I kept seeing was her on the day of her coronation. She'd been so young then!

I'd opposed her vehemently at the beginning of her campaign because, like many others, I had been deceived by her youth. My stars, it's almost past believing now—I opposed that brilliant, wise girl! By the end of her campaign I was one of her strongest supporters. That was the sort of power that Padmé Amidala had over people. There was a time, during her reign as Queen, when I saw her more than I saw my own daughter, and probably knew her better, too. I cared for her like a daughter.

On her coronation day she'd been lavishly dressed and styled, but nonetheless she was positively beaming. That is how I first think of her, even now.

My stars, she was so young then!

My gods… she was so young still.

She had been fourteen when she was crowned Queen, and I had already been old. Now I was older still. She was only twenty-seven, and she was dead. She should have outlived me by decades!

My gods, half of her life had already been past on the day we first met.

Where was the sense in this? Where was the sense in any of it?

I was there when her body was taken off the Alderaanian ship and brought into Theed Palace for the last time. She was so still. That was when I finally, fully comprehended that she had been killed, that she was gone. A brilliant, bright light had gone out of the galaxy.

A light had gone out of me, as well. People always used to remark on how sharp I was, how active and animated I was at my age. I gave my life to serving the Naboo, and serving the Naboo gave me life. It was never the same, after that day. I was changed; I had lost a large part of the drive that had kept me going.

I heard the conflicts among the Naboo, afterward, the debates sparked by Amidala's death. Were the Jedi good or were they evil? Were they villains and murderers or were they wrongly accused? I participated a little, but my heart was not in it. I did not know which side of the argument I believed. It all suddenly seemed not to matter.

I had seen the galaxy's greatest heroine crowned a child Queen, and I had seen her die.

I had lived too long.