I was so excited to post this chapter, just to thank MistiWhitesun for the helpful review! Please, continue with those reviews! Thank you to all who have reviewed so far:

Kazzy

jedi padme amidala vader

qtrhrs78

lil-blu-penguin

Author's Note: Just wanted to make sure everyone knew this is an AU.

Disclaimer: The Star Wars Universe was created and is owned by George Lucas, this is just my imagination at work, based on the universe he has created. If this story is similar to another, it's pure coincidence.

Note: Thoughts are in italics.

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Padmé sat in a lonely corner with only a few people nearby, just running her fingers over the intricate details of her dress. The new matter at hand, that of her sister, made her completly forget all that had been consuming her every thought just over an hour earlier.

The continuing whispering among the other passengers didn't bother her at first. Then when it became louder with a tone of fear in each voice, she began to worry. "What's going on?," Padmé whispered to the passenger closest to her. The young girl, probably in her early twenties, looked as if she had just seen a ghost when she turned towards the Senator. She had long, curly blonde hair, though you couldn't see it much under the hooded cloak she was wearing.

"T-the tr-ransport. . .i-it has b-been. . .," she stuttered, "H-hijacked. Someone has hijacked the transport!"

Padmé's eyes widened, knowing most likely it was because someone found out "the Senator from Naboo" was aboard. "Who? Who is it?"

The young girl shook her head negatively, the hijacker was unknown. "They are taking us back to Coruscant, whoever they are." But. . .I have to be there for Sola!

"At least I'll make it to the Senate meeting now," she muttered to herself, holding her legs close to her body. The young girl, whom Padmé guessed was named Ialina based on what her friend was calling her, just stared at the Senator for a moment, her eyes widening as she covered her mouth.

"You're. . .Senator Amidala, aren't you?"

The lights dimmed and flickered just as Padmé was about to respond. Footsteps could be heard throughout the ship, coming closer to them. Fear suddenly took the place of the calm that filled Padmé.

"Yes, she is."

A deep, dark voice came from behind the helmet of the armor clad, dark, tall man. His long, black cape hung behind him as he reached out his gloved hand to her. Padmé turned away, trying to outwardly be strong, but inside she was melting and weak, even physically shaking. He leaned down even further, pulling her up to her feet.

"Look at me." he commanded, with no response from her. "Look at me!," he screamed, throwing her against the wall. Padmé slid to the floor, too afraid to make any sort of movement.

"Lord Vader, what do you want us to do with them all?" the Stormtrooper behind him asked, rifle in hand, prepared for action. She knew all along who it was. But actually hearing his name, knowing for sure it was him and not just a dream - or nightmare - made it worse.

"Take her," the Dark Lord began, pointing to the Senator, "to the Palace. Kill those who resist and let the others go."

- - - -

"Padmé should have been here hours ago," Jobal frantically worried, holding her comlink in hand. "She's not even calling!" Ruwee put his arms around his wife, comforting her.

"I'm sure she's okay. Just keep trying. Something probably came up with the Senate."

Jobal smiled at her husband, hugging him tighter and longer. "I'm sure you're right."

- - - -

After she hitting the wall, Padmé could not remember much at all. Though she did remember Darth Vader watching as the stormtroopers picked her up of the ground and took her to her cell. She had never felt so angry at him for all that he had done. It wasn't even the actual physical part of him throwing her against the wall that affected her; it was more of the shock that he would do so.

The stark white cell she now was confined it was so bright, so cold. The light glaring off the walls made it almost impossible to see. The only furniture was a white, uncomfortable metal chair. Her suitcase was taken from her, or possibly even left on the transport. All she had was herself and her robe, which didn't even keep her warm enough under these conditions. Even having herself, though, was like having no one at all.

The cell door slid open, a zabrak woman standing before her, holding a tray of food. Her clothes were fairly worn, of course, being gray and black. She sat down the tray on the floor of the cell in front of the Senator, quickly walking out. What, do they think I've got a contagious illness?

Padmé looked at the tray, noticing a glass of some sort of tea and little biscuits on a small plate. Sipping the tea, she sat the plate on her lap. As she scarfed down the food she remembered she had been too busy to remember to eat that day before leaving.

Curling up on the floor next to the chair, Padmé slowly fell asleep; shivering as she did so.