Padme sat hunched over the table in the Starless's mess, wrapped in two blankets which smelled a little too much like weequay. Her hands were wrapped around a cup of caf she was nursing, though she had it more for the warmth than to wake her up. She had been trying to sleep, though that had turned out to be pointless.
The only other one in the room, Artoo beeped at her from across the table.
"Your right," Padme said, "we probably should power back up the heating coils. I just don't intend to sit around here on the ship much longer."
She took a purposefully large gulp of her caf. According to the thermostat the ship's temperature hovered only a few degrees above the freezing point of water. The landing bay of Purgat Station was insulated from the vacuum of space, but it wasn't heated. It had taken a while for the interior of the Starless to cool down after all its systems had been shut off, but Padme was certainly feeling it now.
"They do it so we'll be forced to buy rooms in their hotel inside." Obi-wan's voice startled her. He'd entered so quietly she hadn't noticed. "Otherwise people would just sleep in their ships."
"Like we're trying to do?" she asked, teasingly.
"Yes." He took a seat in the chair next to her. "The price of fuel is actually pretty comparable to their cheapest rooms, though I suppose even smugglers enjoy the feeling of being on vacation."
"So this place is like an Alderaanian timeshare for the galaxy's criminals?"
"Oh yes, along with the commerce district on Coruscant, all wrapped into one."
There was a pause in the conversation, but it was a comfortable one.
"We need to be out there looking for Ahsoka," it was Padme who spoke first.
"I was about to say the same thing. Have you seen Anakin?"
Padme shook her head. It was funny to think that the first thing Obi-wan had done on waking up had been the same as her: checking to see if Anakin was awake. When she'd first woken up shivering, knowing she'd only had a few hours of sleep, her first instinct had been to find Anakin. They'd given her Wirek's captain's quarters out of respect, but she'd felt so lonely in the big bed. Okay, not big, but big in contrast with the bunks the rest of them had been stuck in.
Obi-wan had gotten a bunkroom to himself, and Anakin and Rex had been stuck sharing a room, not that they'd seemed to mind. However when she'd tiptoed in it had been only Rex asleep; seemingly impervious to the cold. The clone trooper was adept at catching a wink wherever he had the chance. Anakin's bunk had been empty, maybe not even slept in, which meant…
"He's loose in the station," Obi-wan mused.
Padme wouldn't have used those exact words, but yes.
"He probably couldn't sleep," she said, cutting off the rest of what she was about to say just in time.
She was going to say he always got like this whenever there was something worrying him, that he was the sort to get dreams, more often than not of the prolific kind. But how would she know that? Obi-wan was such a close friend to both of them sometimes she forgot they kept their secret from him as well.
"We should wake up Rex and head in out of this cold. We can meet up with Anakin inside."
Artoo came with them, trundling along behind as they walked through the high-ceilinged hanger bay and then through the large, ornately decorated portal. The entrance hall of the station was carpeted in red. Directly to the left sat the entrance to a gambling hall. Multi-coloured neon announced pleasure slaves, refreshments, and beast fighting.
"Remember," said Obi-wan. "We're bounty hunters now, not refugees. Let's act accordingly."
There were nods all around. Next, Obi-wan attempted to raise Anakin on the comlink. There was no answer.
"Not a good sign," said Rex. "I just wish he'd woken at least one of us up."
"Welcome to my world," Obi-wan said, trying the comlink again with similar results.
Obi-wan outlined the plan of action. He said that they would cover more ground if they were to split up. It was a large station. They were to mingle, observe, and hopefully find the base of operation of the zygerrian slavers. Wirek had been able to give them only one name: Baru, but at least it was somewhere to start. Obi-wan would go with Artoo, and Padme and Rex would stick together.
"I'll try my best to find Anakin," the Jedi Master explained. "But regardless I work just fine alone."
They were about to go their separate ways when Obi-wan attempted to contact Anakin one last time. This time it went through.
The voice on the other end was his, though it was hard to hear, as if he was whispering, "hey, Obi-wan. Now's not really the best time."
"What's happening? Do you need help? Where are you?"
There was a stretching pause, static crackling over the open link.
When Anakin spoke again he sounded a little breathless. "Don't worry. I've got everything under control."
There was a loud noise then only static.
"Anakin? Was that blaster fire? Anakin!"
Padme and Rex leaned in, trying to hear, but the link was dead.
"Blast," Obi-wan muttered. "That boy… I swear…" He seemed to shake himself, turning back to the other two members of their team. "Regardless, I say we proceed as planned. Hopefully you two can find some lead on Ahsoka while I'm busy dealing with," frustrated, he gestured at his comlink, "… this."
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Rex offered. "He always is."
Those words meant a lot to Padme. Part of her wanted to insist she accompany Obi-wan in his search to find her husband, but another part whispered that she'd just get in the way. Maybe she couldn't keep up with Anakin, but few could. Ahsoka was still in danger, and she didn't intend to sit around while the Jedi did all the work.
"Come on Rex," Padme said, heading towards the gambling hall. "Let's start in here."
For Obi-wan, where to start was not as evident. He had a feeling that he would not find Anakin by following the others through the door, but that was all the force was giving him. On both sides of the hall glass tubes housed lifts to the upper levels of the station, and to down below the carpeted floor. Ahead of him was a train which would take him into the bowls of this orbiting metal monstrosity. He decided to start there. He'd ride it around the loop, looking for signs of the chaos which tended to follow his former Padawan.
Padme and Rex found themselves in a thin, circular lounge. Far below, in a large arena, two terrifying creatures tore at eachother's flesh. The sounds of their battle and the cheering of the crowd were muted by the thick window separating the two areas. Here, wagers were made and drinks were consumed before patrons took one of the many lifts down into the arena below. Padme and Rex took seats at a high table. Jazzy music filled the air, and a scantily clad twi'lek server approached them from the nearest bar.
"Can I get you anything, today?" she asked, hand on the back of Rex's chair as she made sensual eye contact with both of them in turn.
The clone seemed a bit flustered, and Padme was reminded that the only females he'd spent any substantial amount of time with were either Kaminoan or Ahsoka. She, on the other hand, was adept at dealing with all manner of social situations.
"I'll have a Correlfruit Neutron Star," Padme said, returning the twi'lek's gaze.
"Drinking again so soon?" Rex asked.
Padme shrugged. "We need to blend in. Plus, it's my favourite drink, and I've yet to find a place on Coruscant that makes it right."
"Alright," said Rex, "make it two then."
As the twi'lek swayed away Padme was already planning. This was what she did after all, or at least a variation. She dealt in information and fake friends, while she knew Jedi struggled with any task which could not be solved with a lightsaber. True, Obi-wan was a bit of an exception, and she knew she was being a little harsh in general, but she was still mad at Anakin for disappearing. One missing loved one at a time was quite enough for her.
Rex didn't say anything as she stitched them together a cover story. She knew he was still a little uncomfortable being alone with her. He switched between watching the beast fighting below, and studying her out of the corner of his eye.
The twi'lek brought over their drinks. The glasses were long stemmed and cone shaped. The liquid was aquamarine with a reflective pink berry floating in the centers. It almost seemed to glow when it caught the right light.
"Thanks," Padme said, trying her best to read their server as quickly as possible.
In her forming plan, the twi'lek woman could end up being useful.
"Hey," Padme caught her attention just as she was about to turn away, "girl. What's your name?"
Politics was all about playing a character, and Padme fell easily into her newly created one.
The pleasure slave came back to lean on the table in front of Padme with a well-rehearsed—though successfully charming—smile.
Rex was a little thrown. Padme was acting strangely, all of a sudden. She oozed confidence, like she'd just been able to flip and switch and turn it on. She'd flipped the switch and suddenly she was a politician. Rex had always been a little afraid of politicians, but up until that point he'd been able to forget Padme was one. After all, was surviving in the Galactic Senate really that different than surviving in a place like this?
"I'm Dia," said the twi'lek. "May I ask your name, ma'am?"
"Call me Padme. You seem like a smart girl, Dia. I'm glad me and my friend ended up in your section. Can I count on you to come over and check on us in about ten minutes? We should be ready for the next round by then." She mock-shielded her mouth from Rex. "Or maybe it just takes me that long to get board of his company."
Dia giggled. She turned and headed back to the bar, smiling at a few other table of guests on her way there. However, she turned back to look at them once, and on seeing that they were looking in her direction, waved and flashed them a grin.
Padme took a proud sip of her drink. It had been so long since she'd played a character other than senator, and she had created this one so quickly. She'd been unsure if what she'd been going for would come across. She was pretty sure it had, and even if Dia didn't prove to be helpful it would give her some help fleshing out the character.
She took a sip of her Neutron Star. It was delicious, exactly the way she liked it. It reminded her of the more exciting diplomatic missions of her youth, before the war had made such things unsafe. Rex was eyeing the drink rather dubiously.
"Just because it tastes good doesn't mean it won't get you drunk," Padme prompted, with a smile. "I promise I won't tell your brothers."
Rex smiled back. "I appreciate that, but I have more questions about what you're planning that I do about the drink. What were you playing at with the twi'lek?"
It was time for her to explain the plan. "While Obi-wan and Anakin are getting into trouble, I intend to find Ahsoka my way." Padme could tell she had his attention. "Politicians are more suited for the work of spies than Jedi, in my opinion. From personal experience I've learned they're not the best at blending in. What about you, Rex, can you blend in? Are you willing to play along with me?"
The clone nodded curtly. "I will try my very best."
"Perfect, because I've created us both characters who might have a chance at obtaining the information we need."
Padme explained. She had been born a pleasure slave, but secured her freedom through dubious means. Now she worked as a madam, providing the galaxies highest quality of pleasure slaves to a loyal client base. She treated her workers well, offering more autonomy than could often be found in the business. She was starting to branch out, and had come here in search of speciality items, potentially dangerous slaves who fulfilled specific fantasies. That was exactly the business the zygerrians were in, and this fake identity would legitimize their search for them. Rex was her muscle: a loyal bodyguard. If he wanted more backstory than that it was up to him.
"Honestly," she said, "you can even work with that recognizable face. Clone war deserter is as good a backstory as any."
"Whatever you say," Rex said. He'd been listening intently, nodding along. "You're really good at this. Did you really come up with all that on the spot?"
Padme looked away modestly, incapable of completely supressing her smile.
"I know the gener—"Rex caught himself, "Obi-wan and Anakin. I've been on covert missions with them before, and things never go smoothly. You're better at this sort of thing, I'm glad you came with us."
"What happened?" Padme asked.
"The last time, Obi-wan and I ended up spending a few weeks as slaves on some asteroid mining colony." He laughed like it was a joke, but Padme got the sense this was not a humorous memory.
She changed the subject by picking fun at their Jedi counterparts, hoping to distract him from whatever memory she'd inadvertently brought back. "Well here's to luck," she raised her drink to toast, "that they won't manage to blow up the station while we work."
Rex laughed, pinching the thin stem of his glass and knocking it against hers.
Yes, Padme decided, she could definitely make this work. If only she'd had the foresight to dress for the occasion. If she'd had the resources she could have projected the identity of successful madam without even having to speak. At least she didn't look like a refugee anymore. She'd removed her shawl, and though she still wore her pilot's jacket underneath she'd changed to a formfitting bodysuit. It was made of a light body armour that screamed bounty hunter.
Dia was coming back over.
She refilled their drinks, making conversation about the biggest beast fights happening today, and who she would wager on. Padme stopped being as chatty half way through the interaction, fixing Dia with an analytical stare.
"Is there something wrong?" Dia asked, when Padme didn't respond to her comment about Krayt dragons.
"Nothing at all, dear. I was just wondering how a pretty thing like you could have ended up getting stuck in a place like this. You're not your average server, you know?"
Dia did not have a clan name, indicating she'd probably been born into slavery. It was possible she'd never left Purgat Station in her life.
"Thank you."
Padme recognized the twitching of her lekku as the twi'lek equivalent of a blush. The conversation continued, with only brief interruptions as Dia went to serve other customers. She always came back to hang near their table, as Padme filled her head with stories of the imagined life she'd created for herself just minutes prior. It was clear the slave was interested in what she was selling. Rex was almost completely silent for the duration of the interaction, but he watched Padme work with admiration.
"I didn't come here to recruit," Padme finished, "but you're an exceptional girl. You've caught my attention. If you were interested in coming to work for me I'd certainly consider it."
Dia laughed nervously, glancing around as if she was afraid someone was watching. "Master Meerion wouldn't be happy to hear you plan on stealing me away."
"Don't be silly my dear, I'd pay the price for you, of course. I purchase all the slaves who work for me. Thievery is bad for business." Dia's eyes had lit up, and suddenly Padme felt a little bad for stringing her along like this. "Of course, I can't begin to think about such things until I get what I came for. I only carrying a certain number of credits on my person."
"What did you come for?" Dia asked. "If you don't mind me prying."
"I don't mind at all. In fact, maybe you can help me. I'm not personally familiar with Purgat Station. I'm here looking for slavers who deal with the exotic, and the untamed. All I have to go on is half a recommendation. I've heard the name Baru dropped in reference to such things."
Sadly, the name did not ring any bells for Dia. However she was eager to help. She knew that Station regulars often owned private back rooms or booths in the fancier of Purgat Station's two clubs. She offered to introduce Padme and Rex to a friend of hers who worked in the club: another pleasure slave. She said that he was very knowledgeable on the players and politics of the station.
She brought them up herself, seemingly only a little nervous about leaving her assigned post. Padme got the sense that this was not the only situation in which Dia could be seen leaving with patrons. They road up one of the lifts in the entrance hall. The music could be felt vibrating through the floor before they even rounded the corner to see the entrance of the club.
Razor Lounge was printed above the door in basic. The large, trandoshan bouncer showed that no every visitor of the station would be allowed through. Padme linked arms with Dia, and Rex drew himself up, putting on his best bodyguard impression. They were let through without question.
It did not take long for Dia to find her friend, after they had made their way around the edge of the crowded dance floor. He was flirting with two human woman at a table near the back, however he left without a glance backwards when Dia beckoned him over. She introduced him as Lla'rani. He was striking, even by pleasure slave standards. That was probably how he'd landed the spot in the club. He was an orange twi'lek, already a rare sight, but he also sported curling gold tattoos down his lekku and his arms. He was shirtless and carrying an empty drink tray, and Padme had to remind herself that despite the fact he projected rehearsed confidence, he probably did not enjoy this life any more than any other pleasure slave she'd ever met.
"…and she started out a pleasure slave. She was born into it." It appeared, while she'd been lost in thought, Dia had already gotten half way through telling Lla'rani her invented backstory.
Coming up with a character was one thing, but keeping up the act consistently was another. However there was no backing out now, Padme knew that. Lla'rani seemed willing enough to help her out, and said he might even know the zygerrians she was thinking of.
"I'm sorry," Dia cut in, "I wish I could help more, Padme. You're the most interesting person I've met in quite some time, but I can't risk being away from my post any longer."
"Go," Padme shooed her. "You've done so much already. Thank you, truly."
"I'll come visit you and Lla'rani when I get a little time off," she said, "if you're still around that is. I'd probably come see Lla'rani anyways."
"Maybe I'll see you later, then." Padme smiled at her.
As the female twi'lek disappeared in among the crowd she turned urgently back to Lla'rani. "You were saying, about the zygerrians?"
"Yes, I think I may know the pair you're talking about: the slavers. They are here a lot. They have a private room in back where they conduct business." Lla'rani had light a Ryloth accent, unlike Dia who'd had none at all.
"And they are named… Baru?" Padme pressed.
"One of them is. The other, I believe, is Derren."
"Do you know if they're here? If I could meet with them?"
"I haven't seen them in several days. I don't think they're on-station, and even if they were I couldn't get you back there. Security is tight: our bouncers, and body guards hired by all sorts of nasty people. Your best bet is probably to hang around here for a while, socialize. If they don't show up, you still might talk to someone who knows where they are."
"I think I'll do that," said Padme. "I've learned that every setback can be an opportunity. This club could be full of potential clientele."
As a career politician, Padme could spew druk like this on command. It happened almost involuntarily as her mind was occupied with other things. Rex stood diligently by her side, having been silent thus far aside from a brief introduction. She met his eyes. Lla'rani had been briefly distracted by a passing man who seemed to recognize him. Rex took this opportunity to lean in and whisper in her ear.
"I'm thinking I can slip away and see if I can get back there, take a look around."
"It's like you read my mind."
Razor Lounge was unlike anywhere Rex had been before. He'd spent a fair amount of time at military bars on Coruscant, and had visited a few dives in the underlevels, but this club was clearly for the galaxy's higher class of scum. Everyone here looked like they had money, or were working for someone who did. It was dark, and the lighting was disorienting. Bands of glowing blue traced the edges of the room, and ran across the ceiling, floor, and being the bar.
Rex slipped away from Padme and Lla'rani, in among the crowd, but he felt very out of place. This was not what he had been trained for. He was a soldier not a spy. He'd felt useless watching Padme work; useless and deeply impressed. At first he'd worried her presence on the mission would just be one more thing to worry about, but he realized now that she had strengths Obi-wan and Anakin did not. Just like he had strengths she didn't. He'd been trained in stealth, in covert operations. This was no different than any other time he'd been behind enemy lines. How hard could it be to get past a few bodyguards?
Rex walked through the area of the club which housed the private booths. Most were occupied; large egg-shaped structures with blue lights running around the central tables and the back of the couches. Some of the entrances were covered by curtains so Rex could not see inside. Passing a slave carrying an empty drink tray, Rex saw the entrance to the back area. Two gamorreans with stun batons and basters on their belts stood on either side. The entrance itself was ray shielded, stylistically blue instead of the usual orange.
There was no way he was getting through there. One of the hulking aliens seemed to have noticed him staring. His beady eyes scrutinized him, snout wrinkling. Rex quickly slid out of site between two booths, and set about casing the terrain.
It took a bit over a standard hour for Rex to construct a satisfactory blueprint of Purgat Station in his mind. The area below his target housed the offices of bookies who took care of the betting on the fights in the stadium next door. A scruffy looking man was bartering uselessly with a toydarian in the hall, oblivious to the pair of guards coming up behind him. Rex kept the brim of his hat low over his eyes, walking quickly around the next corner. In this hallway, he found what he had been looking for. A large ventilation grate sat up where the ceiling met the wall. He'd need to get inside quickly before someone could happen upon him.
As Rex reached inside his coat for his tool pouch, he was also listening intently. It appeared this particular hallway was deserted, at least for now. It was a small offshoot housing only a few offices; if the dingy rooms could be called that. Rex chose the electric screwdriver on his multitool. It was cutting edge, able to overcome even the most friction resistant alloys.
He made short work of the grate and lifted himself nimbly inside, putting the grate back into place behind him. This was certainly not the largest air duct he'd ever crawled through, and he'd crawled through his fair share of air ducts. Rex wiggled through the hot, metal pipe until he reached the place where it connected with a larger, vertical shaft.
Thankfully it was still thin enough he'd be able to brace himself across the pipe and shimmy upwards. The vent below him dropped off into darkness, and as he lowered himself into a braced position he was hit by a wave of warm and surprisingly smelly air. He'd only made about a meter of progress before a terrifying sound echoed up from the vents below. If it was an animal of some kind he'd never heard anything like it. It was high pitched, but somehow also rumbling. Rex climbed a little faster. The further he was from whatever they were keeping in the lower levels, the better.
Once he reached the back area of the Razor Lounge Rex did not immediately exit the pipe. He moved slowly through the ventilation, peering down into the different private rooms. Some were set up like offices, others like lounges. One sported a stripper pole, and quite a few pleasure slaves. Rex didn't look down onto this private party for too long. From looking at the choice of interior decoration it was possible to get a sense of the owner's species. Still, he was beginning to worry that even if he found the zygerrians' office he wouldn't know it. What if he'd passed it already?
The force appeared to be on his side, however, because he was given an easy tell. After his time as a slave in the zygerrian re-education center he could recognize one of their helmets anywhere. It sat as a proud centerpiece on the room's low table. It was possible that helmet was there for another reason, but it was the best lead he'd gotten so far. Rex dropped down into the room. Baru and Derren were making good use of their space. Comfortable couches and the table took up most of the room, with a desk on one side and a bar on the other.
He went to the desk, finding a datapad, and holodeck. After fighting with the semi-sentient datapad unsuccessfully, he moved onto the holodeck. It was a simple trick to find out to where the last call had been made.
When Rex saw the coordinates he recognized them instantly. He'd had many friends who had died there, still recently enough that it stung. He remembered standing beside Anakin on the bridge as they pushed the hyperdrive to the limit, trying to reach the battle before there was no battle to reach. They'd been too slow. He remembered the somber mood which had fallen over the 501st when the official order for retreat had come through. Now it appeared he would be visiting Kru'vuren after all.
He was planning how he was going to get himself back up into the vent when the door slid open. The two gamorrean bouncers stood in the frame, both of their blasters trained at his chest.
"Don't move," one of the gamorreans grunted, in very broken basic. "One twitch and…"
He made as if he was about to pull the trigger, but stopped just millimetres short. Rex didn't even flinch. He was a soldier. He embraced death in the service of this cause, just as he had embraced it in service of the Republic. What he hadn't realized was that the datapad had been just sentient enough to know he wasn't supposed to be here, and to tell someone about it.
In the time it had taken for Rex to reach this point in his mission, Padme had met many interesting people, and learned much about the hierarchy and politics of Purgat Station. For example, she'd learned that the station was owned by a pantoran named Luce Meerion. Meerion liked to have his hand in every pocket, and his ear in every illegal dealing which took place within the walls of his station. He was an entrepreneur and a dangerous man, but right now he was giving Padme a tour.
He'd offered to show her the hotel when she'd admitted she'd been planning to sleep on her ship. She'd been unable to refuse. When Lla'rani had introduced them her first emotion had been panic. This was too much attention, too much visibility. Meerion had been nothing but friendly up to this point, the perfect host, but Padme was still on edge. Like all pantorans he was blue skinned and humanoid. He showed his wealth with the lavish silken robe he wore, so in fashion that he would not have looked out of place in the senate district on Coruscant. His hair was light pink and wavy, and he was not much older than herself.
Right now he was talking about how he'd come to be in the position he was. Padme nodded along, smiling with practiced interest.
"You may have been told I work for the Hutts, but please don't think they gave this to me. When I found it Purgat was just an abandoned mining station. All this…" he gestured proudly around them as they entered a room housing one of the station's transport trains "…this was my vision."
A protocol droid informed them that the train would be arriving shortly.
Padme shot a look at Lla'rani, trying desperately to get a handle on the situation. With Rex gone, she'd needed to have at least one ally; so she'd asked if he could accompany them. The pleasure slave returned her gaze, and gave a smile. He seemed to be a little nervous, but not overly so. From his stories she'd gotten the sense that he dealt with Meerion fairly frequently.
Strangely enough, Meerion was not accompanied by any bodyguards. That lead to the realization that even in a place as chalked full of dangerous people as Purgat Station, he felt safe. After all, every regular knew him and wished to stay on his good side, every guard they passed was under his employ, every droid, every camera.
The train slid silently into the station. It was less of a train and more of a long floating platform with joints. Either side of the central hallway were lined with comfortable couches with surprisingly clean cushions. It was also mostly empty. Padme realized she had been silent too long. It was time she asked the question which had been weighing upon her.
"Don't get me wrong," said Padme, stepping aboard the train, "meeting you has been an absolute pleasure. But I've been in this game too long not to know that everyone has intentions. What are yours with me? Is it safe to assume you don't give all your guests this much attention?"
Meerion took a seat between her and Lla'rani. "Just the interesting ones. You'd be surprised to hear we have few new players come through the station. This is my world, and I rarely leave it, I know everyone worth knowing here, and a new arrival like you is exciting. Also, I am a business man, and you are a business woman. A business like yours would be good for Purgat Station. I know many who are unwilling to operate all the way out here, but maybe I can show you the benefits. Was that honest enough for you?"
"Perfectly," Padme said, "my respect goes to an entrepreneur who doesn't talk in riddles. It's true I came here in search of a specific business opportunity, but it seems the force has presented me with many more. Purgat Station is an interesting place, and I will be sure to return here after I find the unique slaves I came here searching for."
Padme looked down over the edge of the train. The floor below them was glass, and far below she could see another train. This one had ordinary, front facing seats, and was much more crowded than the one on which she road. Below that train was another glass floor through which she could see the massive gas giant around which they orbited.
"Ah, yes," said Meerion, "Baru and Derren are both good friends of mine. They are lynchpins of the luxury slave trade, not just in the outer rim but throughout the entire galaxy. I am afraid, however, that they are not here. I am unsure about when they will be back. Stay on Purgat a while, take a vacation. There are some other slavers who come through here often I can introduce to you, but I doubt any of them will have the selection of exotic slaves you are looking for."
"Sadly," said Padme, "I can't remember the last time I've been capable of taking a vacation." This was probably the most truthful thing she'd said thus far in their conversation.
Suddenly Meerion stiffened. "One moment please."
He touched the communicator on his wrist, and seemed to be listening. Padme saw the glint of a micro-comlink in one of his ears.
Lla'rani attempted to strike up a conversation with her, telling her how fantastic the upper levels of the hotel were, but Padme barely responded. Too much of her attention was fixed on Meerion.
"Mmhm…mmh…yes…"
He was giving very little away. His eyes flickered over to her, and she was unable to read the look on his face. It was certainly different than before.
"Meet us near the hotel's upper train station," he said, ending the call.
"What was that?" Padme asked, casually.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with."
Padme suddenly had a bad feeling about this.
For the rest of the time until they reached their stop it was Lla'rani who carried the conversation. Meerion got out first, offering her his hand as she went to step up onto the platform.
"Madam Duura?"
She accepted his unnecessary gesture nervously, trying to understand the edge which had appeared in his voice.
"Thank you Master Meerion."
"Please, please, Luce is fine. Many of our regulars call me that."
"Of course. And feel free to call me Padme."
She was relieved when Meerion released her hand.
He led them into a private area behind the reception desk. It was probably a break room for the receptionist; small and dingy with the only other exit being a service elevator. When she looked at Lla'rani she could tell he was nervous now. His eyes flickered between the two of them, panicked and confused.
"What are we doing in here?" Padme asked, trying to sound unworried.
"Waiting for someone," Meerion answered.
He stood between them and the door, eyes fixed intently on the elevator.
When the metal doors slid open Padme felt her heart drop down to her feet. The elevator held three figures, two bulky gamorreans and Captain Rex. Rex had his arms trapped behind his back by energy bindings and there was a nasty bruise forming on his cheek. The pig-like aliens dragged him forward into the room and threw him unceremoniously to the ground.
"Rex!" Padme crouched next to him, touching his face gently. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"
Rex grunted, pulling away from her and getting stiffly to his feet.
"She's not involved in this," he said. "She didn't know what I was doing."
Padme began to look around desperately for means of escape. Lla'rani had backed into a corner. He would be no help. She had her blaster, but both the gamorreans were armed. She'd be no match for them.
"Yes she did," said Meerion dismissively. Turning to Padme, he said, "it crossed my mind before, that with the timing of your arrival there might be one specific slave you were looking to obtain. Now I know for sure. There's only one reason someone like you would take a risk like this."
Padme couldn't breathe.
"Money. More specifically, the money you could make off of a captive Jedi. I have no idea how you found out, but whatever buyers you had lined up are going to be disappointed. Baru and Derren found a buyer of their own."
So Meerion knew. Of course he did. If Ahsoka had come through Purgat it would not have slipped by him. Padme was constructing a response, maybe something about how they could have gotten a better price through her, when Meerion said something odd.
"So," he asked Rex, "who'd they sell the Jedi to?"
"What?" Rex asked, as confused as she was.
"Did you find out, or was your whole trick with the ventilation for nothing? Separatists? Black Sun? Who was it?"
So maybe there were some things Meerion didn't know. Rex still looked confused. He gave Padme a look.
"Tell him," she said, partly because she wasn't sure how it could make this worse, but mostly because she wanted to know.
Maybe they were in a bad situation right now, but if they knew were Ahsoka was it might just be worth it.
"I'm not completely sure, but the last calls they made were to Kru'vuren."
"Sith Spit!" Meerion swore, pressing his hand to his head and looking honestly distraught.
More confused than ever, Padme's hand floated towards her blaster.
"Those lazerbrained… Kru'vuren, of course, it makes sense! If only they'd told me I could have had the Pykes off of my blasted station."
"Are you alright?" Padme ventured.
Meerion took a deep breath, his composed mask reappearing. "Yes. I'm sorry for that little outburst. It doesn't concern you or your friend. I'm just a little cross at Baru, is all." He seemed to shake himself, addressing his next command at the gamorreans. "Release him."
The guards obliged without question. Meerion must have caught the questioning look in Padme's eyes, for he explained. "I'm not angry with you, Padme. I like you. I'm not going to throw you off my station for a little sneaking around. No harm was done, and you didn't know how things work here. However," his voice turned threatening, "you do now. By letting this slide I'm showing that I trust you. Any further actions of this nature will therefor fall under a betrayal of my trust… and the consequences of that are much more severe."
"Your lenience with us is much appreciated," said Padme.
Suddenly Meerion was beaming. "Perfect! How about as way of my apology with this unpleasantness, you and your friend join me in my private box for this orbit's headlining beast fight. I don't want our interaction to end on such a tense note."
He sounded surprisingly genuine.
"We'd love to," Padme conceded.
"Perfect. Lla'rani, you will be coming with us as well."
The twi'lik nodded. "I'd love to, Master."
"You really got us out of that one," Rex whispered, as Meerion lead them out of the room.
The guards did not follow them.
Padme nodded, leaning in very close before delivering her response. "Yes, but I would have liked to avoid attracting this much attention."
She planned to find some excuse to slip away after the fight. Turning down Meerion's invitation after he had excused their transgression would not have been wise, but now that they knew Ahsoka's location she felt like she was wasting time. They should be planning their next move. With the military blockade which still surrounded Kru'vuren it would not be an easy place to reach.
When they arrived at the arena, it was more crowded than it had been earlier that day. The ring was also currently empty. Lowering down into the stadium their senses were assaulted by excited voices, and the smells of both food and booze. This rabble was separated from them by the walls of Meerion's private booth. A private lift lowered them down directly from the bar above.
Dia had found them in the bar. At first she'd been flustered to seem them with her master, but after Padme had spoken highly of her he had invited her to join them.
"We're going to see the Krayt Dragon I told you about earlier," Dia was saying, excitedly. "I've never seen one before. I've just heard stories. Have you seen one?"
Padme shook her head, answering honestly. "I have been to Tatooine but I had the good fortune to not run across one."
"Are you ready?" a voice boomed from all around them. "We have a special treat for you today. And no, I don't mean the Krayt Dragon…"
"Oh," said Lla'rani from behind them, "I know what that means. I hope you're not squeamish, Padme."
"What are you…?"
The announcer answered her question before Lla'rani could. "The Krayt Dragon will be facing off against three of one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy: the human."
"I wonder what they did to piss Master off," Dia hissed to Lla'rani, then stiffened when she seemed to realize how close her master sat to them.
"Nothing to me directly," said Meerion, "but something to some powerful guests who are beginning to overstay their welcome. Though, I can only pull to mind who one of these humans might be."
Massive energy shield on one side of the arena was opened, and the Krayt Dragon emerged. As it entered, it released the same bone chilling cry Rex had heard echoing up the ventilation shaft. It was three times Padme's height to the top of its shoulder blade. Sharp spines covered its long neck, and its glinting teeth were almost the size of a forearm. It swung its massive tale, denting the metal wall of the ring. People were vacating the front few rows despite the protective energy barrier.
Then, something began to rise from below the center of the arena. A ray shield descended all the way from the top of the massive hall, like a protective spotlight. When the platform appeared above the level of the floor Padme and Rex saw the three prisoners.
Two of them were familiar. Anakin and Obi-wan stood beside a dark skinned woman, their wrists bound together by energy bindings. They could be seen, larger than life, on the massive screens hanging from the ceiling. The bindings were released, and the Jedi hurried to grab small vibroblades which had been left by their feet.
Among all the emotions swirling within Padme—terror, desperation, sadness—the most prominent one was disbelief. She turned to Rex and saw her own feelings reflected in his eyes.
"You've got to be kidding me," she said, "how did they even manage to…?"
Rex could give her no answer.
A/N: But I will, with the next chapter running parallel to this one and showing you what Anakin and Obi have been up to.
You guys should not have encouraged me when I asked about chapter length, because look at this monstrosity. I hope I didn't throw too much at you at once here. I know there was a lot of new setting and characters for one chapter, but it just kind of happened. As always, tell me what you think. Do you like that I gave Padme and Rex their own chapter? I want to give them a fair amount of attention, and everyone tends to be overshadowed when Anakin is in the room.