32 BBY
True hunger was something Padme had never known before. She'd never been a glutton, and even missed a meal or two when focussed on her work, but this was different. Very different. This wasn't her choosing not to eat for an afternoon or a day at the worst to stay in shape, this was the seventh day in a row without food of any kind at all.
The Trade Federation blockade had stopped all shipments to or from Naboo a month ago when this whole nightmare had started. At the time, Queen Amidala's Councilor for Defence had warned her it would be only a week before food shortages would start, her world being an importer more than an exporter.
How many days had it been since then? Padme dimly realized that not even an entire month had passed, though it almost felt like a lifetime ago now.
When her militia and handmaids had managed to capture the Palace's upper levels along with Nute Gunray the Viceroy, Padme had hoped that would be the end of things. The Nemoidian was an absolute coward, and had conceded to all her demands, even desperately suggesting more concessions she could extract from the Trade Federation. For a few minutes, Padme had felt like everything was going perfectly to plan.
Then the Gungans had been defeated. Padme's heart ached for them, really it did, but she had known they wouldn't win. They were too primitive, and too few in number. However brave, they were a distraction, a lesser piece on the Dejarik board; sacrificed when needed. Padme hated it, but she'd known it to be true when she joined in an alliance with them, so wasn't too surprised or disappointed when they were routed in battle.
It was the defeat of Naboo Security Forces fighter fleet that had dashed her plans. Without a convincing naval defeat, the blockade of her world had continued, and the droid army still marched the streets of Theed. Nute Gunray would make any promise, but without any damage done to the Trade Federation's precious fleet, his words were worthless in the face of the Board of Directors hunger for profits.
The two Jedi, Padawan Kenobi and Master Jinn, had been the first ones to realize how bad their situation was. Within the hour, they had quickly destroyed all the remaining droids in the Palace, and sealed the entrances and exits.
Then the siege had begun. They had plenty of power thanks to Theed Palace being built directly over the Plasma refinery, and plenty of water in the tanks so they were able to drink and bathe as needed. The problem was the food. The kitchens and larders had been raided in Padme's absence from her homeworld. She didn't know for sure, but she guessed some of the palace servants had snuck back in once it became clear the blockade would last indefinitely, and grabbed everything they could. Or maybe some Nemoidian officer had sold it all to hungry citizens for easy money.
The only food in the palace had been some refreshments forgotten in the fridge in the diplomatic lounge. Even rationing them out, her and her few loyal remaining servants were now starving. A few bottles of cider, some snack bars, and packets of dried fruits and nuts were not enough to keep twenty or so handmaids and palace security fed for a fortnight.
Only the Jedi seemed to be fine. They'd eaten less than anyone else since their arrival, and had been the most active.
"The force sustains us." Master Jinn explained, though Padawan Kenobi wasn't so good at concealing his feelings that Padme missed the slight look of disagreement he had in his eyes
As the days had passed, Padme had found her energy dwindling to almost nothing. Looking at the mirror, she wasn't surprised to see her face had become gaunt. The pain of her hunger had long since gone away, as the bacteria inside began to sate themselves with her stomach lining to survive. Her thoughts slowed down, her mind becoming slightly dull as she occasionally struggled to think through the fog that choked every thought. Words and plans that would usually leap to her immediately seemed to stumble about pointlessly instead.
After two weeks, she even began to see her guards muttering to each other in the corners when they thought she wasn't around. She wasn't a lip reader, but she didn't need to be to see the word surrender spoken more than once.
Nute Gunray was as starved as anyone else, and obviously had the same thoughts. "Please, I'm a businessman. I can negotiate for you, and make sure you're all well fed and taken care of." There was a wheedling desperation to his tone. He was no great mind, but even he could tell that he'd been hung out to dry by the rest of the Federation.
His aid, Gilramos Libkath nodded along in breathless agreement. "There's no reason we can't all leave alive."
Captain Panaka scowled at them. "I can think of a few reasons why you shouldn't."
"Revenge will achieve nothing." Master Jinn admonished him.
"...Might raise morale." Panaka replied, but took his hand off the blaster strapped to his hip.
An hour later, he approached Padme with his lips set into a reluctant grimace. "Queen Amidala, this plan has failed. We do need to consider surrender. Those two aren't worth much, but they could at least be worth enough to guarantee us decent treatment."
Padme hesitated, feeling the temptation strongly. Surrender might even be worth it if it meant something to eat, before she resolved herself . "But if I surrender, then my people will truly be lost to these thugs."
"Better to live to fight another day, my lady."
"My people are better served by a Martyr than a hostage."
Panaka grimaced, obviously upset at the idea but not able to disagree.
Like he'd been summoned, and speaking as though he had been listening in on the entire prior conversation, Master Jinn appeared. "If I may, Your Highness, Captain Panaka speaks wisely. Though noble to die a martyr, what your people need most is for you to keep fighting for them. Obi-Wan and I have come up with a plan for you to escape."
Both he and his Padawan seemed to move effortlessly and soundlessly, fading into the background at times even though they were the most dangerous men here by far. It was unsettling at times how these Jedi just seemed to appear, like spirits or ghosts from old spacer's tales.
She considered his words for longer than she should have. "Why didn't you mention this sooner?"
"At the time, there was still a chance that the Trade Federation could be persuaded. Now, Obi-Wan and I can feel them readying for an attack. Our time is up, your Highness."
Padme pursed her lips. She'd never quite come to trust the Jedi, but they had been powerful allies. Now she learned they had been concealing an escape route from her, and felt a flash of suspicion. What was the real reason for not telling her sooner?
As if reading the very question from her mind, Qui-Gon leaned closer and murmured low enough that only she could hear it, "We have a vessel parked in the city, a bongo, but it can only carry three people out. You, myself, and Kenobi. Everyone else will have to stay here, and surrender."
Surrender to the mercy of the Trade Federation? Given the assassins they'd hired, the massacres they'd already perpetrated on the Gungans, and the blockade choking the life out of her citizens, Padme certainly didn't think they could be trusted with the lives of her few remaining guards and handmaidens.
The expression on Panaka's face showed he was thinking much the same thing.
"Captain, I won't ask you to-"
She was cut off by the sound of an explosion. The walls of the palace shook, and dust rained down from the ceiling. The guards who had been sitting all rose to their feet, taking up their blasters. Outside, the sound of thousands of battle droids marching in unison penetrated even the thick bricks of the castle walls.
The Federation was beginning its assault.
Nute Gunray seemed to freeze, before he suddenly started speaking. "You've waited too long! Please, bring me a holocom! This is the last chance you have to-"
Panaka shot him.
It didn't register for a moment. Padme heard the noise, smelled the burning amphibian flesh, and saw the body fall, but couldn't believe the captain of her security forces, a friend and associate, would murder someone in cold blood.
Panaka's expression was hatred personified. His lip curled slightly up to expose a hint of his teeth, and his brows drawn down in a dark glower.
The remaining Nemoidian, the Viceroy's toady, Gilramos was frozen on the spot. He trembled helplessly, as the Captain strode forward to press his blaster into one of his bulbous red eyes.
"No surrender! For Naboo!" Panaka snarled, and fired .
The rest of the guards and handmaidens looked at the smoldering, headless corpse propped up in its seat, and were too stunned to react for a moment until one voice took up the chant. "No surrender! For Naboo!"
"For our queen!" A woman's voice cried.
"Everyone, defend the doors!" Panaka yelled. He looked to the Queen, and Padme felt a chill run down her spine at the emptiness in his eyes. All hope gone, with only spite left to give him purpose. "Well? Go!" He waved his hand at her. "We'll hold out as long as we can."
His back turned away was the last Padme knew she would ever see of him, and she shivered. It was one thing to read about what war could do to good men, and another to see it for herself. Captain Panaka, the cynical but practical man she knew was gone, unneeded at this moment. In his place a more helpful monster now stood, ready to sell his life dearly.
All she had wanted for her people was peace, and somehow she had led them all to this.
This isn't what she wanted.
"This isn't what I wanted." Padme said aloud.
"It's okay, it's over now." Kenobi answered.
"This wasn't meant to happen!"
"You're safe now. Come on, get up."
"No, everyone, please stop!"
"Queen Amidala, wake up!"
Padme's eyes opened slowly, and she blinked in surprise as she stared up at the unfamiliar roof. Her mind returned to a time not even a year ago, before the assassins, before the weeks spent hiding in a swamp living off insects and reptiles with a sick and weakening Jedi Master, before the journey through the Planet's Core, or the Siege, or Coruscant and her own senator's betrayal, even before the time on Tatooine or the blockade started. It seemed a lifetime ago, but it wasn't even half a year.
She sat up, looking over at Minla, her only surviving handmaiden. She'd been captured alive by the Trade Federation in the final assault on the Palace, and pressed for information. Her face was still marked by bruises, and she'd yet to find a suitable set of dentures to replace her newly missing teeth. Minla was once beautiful, now her body was a mesh of scars, and her missing fingernails were only just starting to grow back. Apparently the Trade Federation had brought in a 'consultant' to talk with her, an infamous mercenary named Aurra Sing, and the second assassin sent after Padme.
Minla insisted she didn't tell them anything, but Padme didn't care if she did or not. She was only glad that her handmaiden was alive, and the monstrous torturer was dead, beheaded by Padawan Kenobi.
"You were having a nightmare, Your Majesty."
"...Thank you, Minla."
Her palace was in wreckage after being pounded by the Federations artillery and stormed by droids. In the meantime, Padme was given the place of honor at the Royal Theed Hotel. It was a luxurious room, with silky white sheets and soft cushions. It was even air conditioned, a relief in the hot Naboo summer.
Breakfast was small, a pair of boiled eggs with salt and pepper, and a cup of herbal tea to wash it down. The meager fair almost made her miss the wild game Obi-Wan had hunted while they hid in the swamps.
The city still had food shortages, though not as bad as they once were. Every day more and more merchant freighters arrived to charge exorbitant prices for meager provisions, hurrying to sell while demand was high. Padme had seen families bartering precious aurodium rings and necklaces for a sack of unidentifiable tubers from who knows where. Still, food being sold at high prices was better than no food being sold at all.
It wouldn't be until regular shipments resumed that food prices would stabilize, though in the meantime Count Dooku seems to have been generous enough to arrange for large shipments to start making their way here from Serenno. The first few cargo haulers were due to arrive today, after which the Count planned on leaving.
Padme wasn't sure what to make of him. When he first arrived, she'd been relieved that the blockade was finally gone and this nightmare was at an end. Then the Count dispatched a small ship to collect her and Obi-Wan from the swamps they were hiding, and he didn't even speak to her! He had a private meeting with Obi-Wan to get the full story of what happened to Qui-Gon Jinn, then dropped them both off in Theed. Apparently, Qui-Gon was his former Padawan, and afterward Obi-Wan had told her the only reason at all he'd come to Naboo's rescue was he learned his old student was in harm's way!
Padme was almost flabbergasted by that.
In the end it wasn't the Republic, or the Jedi, or any of the institutions her people relied on to keep them safe which finally freed them, but Dooku's apparently very inappropriate attachment to Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Padme didn't even know what to think.
Of course there was the fear that the man would turn out to be another conquering invader, but instead he just seemed to want to leave now that his mission had failed. Padme wasn't sure why he was in such a rush, but he had informed her they would be having a meeting before he left, and she was really in no position to refuse.
To meet him formally, Padme and her handmaiden did their best to properly dress her up in her royal regalia. It was hard to do the work of half a dozen hands with only a single pair, but Minla persisted for hours. Padme's hair was straightened out, and curled up in elaborate rolls and buns, and her face was painted white with straight lines trailing from her eyes. Unfortunately, not much was available of her official royal regalia, no doubt plundered by a neimoidian, and possibly lost to deep space when the fleet was destroyed. The owner of the hotel and his wife had been kind enough to provide Padme with an elegant set of purple formal robes, and tasteful aurodium jewelry inset with real gems, rubies and amethysts.
The hotel owner was even kind enough to clear the hotel's conference hall for her and the Count's meeting. It wasn't like he was having much business these days, but she appreciated the effort he and his bellboy went to, dragging into the room a massive, high backed, decorative wooden chair carved with sea monsters for her to use as a throne. She had no idea where he got it, but Padme was so grateful she didn't mention the obvious furroughs it left in the red carpets, giving away how hasty the preparations for the meeting really were.
Then she waited, with Minla as the only surviving member of her retinue, face hidden by a vale and silken gloves to hide her hands. Such incredible loyalty, especially from Minla, but also from the hotel owner and his staff, left Padme feeling completely unworthy.
The Count arrived, pushing apart the double doors with a wave of his hand. He strode into the conference room, cape billowing behind him and looking every bit like the Jedi Lord his detractors accused him of being. He was a member of the Outer Rim nobility, who openly wore a lightsaber and now commanded a fleet. Even his heir was being trained as a Jedi! Technically his titles of Jedi Master and Count were unrelated, but by every practical reality he was a living breathing Jedi Lord walking straight out of the pages of history.
"Count Dooku, We are grateful that our liberator found time for us." Padme greeted him from her improvised throne, slipping in a slight sarcastic sting, though he hardly seemed to react. In fact, his gaze wasn't even on her, but seemed to be somewhere in the distance. "Or perhaps you'll need to find another time for us?"
"No offense was intended, Your Majesty." Dooku replied, his eyes finally resting on her. "I just sensed someone approaching who I intended to avoid."
"Grand Master Yoda?" Padme asked. At Dooku's surprised look she explained. "Padawan Kenobi said he was coming. Why do you wish to avoid him?"
"My intervention to save your planet was not legal by any standard, unless of course we have a pre-existing defense arrangement."
"Which we do not have."
"But which we can claim to have. The recent civil war left my world's record keeping in an awful state, and I'm sure the destruction of the Palace has done all kinds of damage to your own archives. Unfortunately, things being as they are, only copies of the original documents can be provided."
"You want us to lie for you, Count."
"I want you to help your liberator in the coming court battles he likely faces." Dooku smiled. "And in exchange, I can tell you who's been trying to have you assassinated."
Padme's eyes widened at that, and her mind reeled. How could he know that? Unless he was in league with them? At first she had thought it was Nute Gunray, but then the second assassin had come even after he died, and he wanted her to sign his treaty anyway. Someone else was sending assassins, deadly force using ones at that.
Was it Dooku? Was he now threatening her?
"I assure you, Your Majesty, I knew nothing of the assassins until Obi-Wan told me of them."
"But now you claim to know who sent them?"
Dooku nodded.
Padme stared at him for a long moment, not trusting him at all, but in the end he had been the one that saved her people from the Trade Federation. Whatever his involvement in the assassination, agreeing to his request now came at almost no cost to her, and any information he offered at all could be useful.
"We agree." She said, after a long pause.
"The man you call Chancellor Palpatine actually sent the assassins, and he's in league with an extremely powerful hidden sect on Coruscant."
The claim was so ridiculous that Padme almost scoffed. Obviously Palpatine was ambitious, and more than willing to use this whole situation to his own advantage. It was when he explained to her just how long it would take for him to finally be elected and then bring the Senate to heel, that she realized the extent of his disloyalty.
What would he even gain from killing her? He used her to convince the senate to start a vote of no confidence against Chancellor Valorum.
She paused.
Did Senator Palpatine really need her specifically to do that? No, what he really needed was a good cause for the vote to take place. If she had died, there was no reason to believe someone else couldn't be persuaded to push for it in her place, with all the more weight behind it for her being a martyr.
Thinking about it further, if she was killed by the Trade Federation, and everyone else in her cabinet was captured as well, wouldn't Palpatine have been Naboo's acting head of state? There were a dozen names ahead of him in the line of succession, but if it hadn't been for Padme's own escape and survival Palpatine would easily be able to call for the vote himself with all the moral and legal authority required.
The Senator was the one who had clearly benefited the most from this whole ordeal.
"...This sect, are they likely to continue to pursue us?"
"I cannot possibly say." Dooku replied. "Presumably, you've served your usefulness to him, but then a second assassin chased you into the swamps despite that. It may be that you'll need Jedi protection for some time to come."
Padme froze, thoughts of being plagued by force sensitive superhuman assassins for the rest of her life feeling all too plausible. A cold shiver ran down her spine at the idea.
"Perhaps you can persuade the Jedi Council of your needs, Yoda's coming here right now." Dooku told her, though his tone said he doubted it. "Young Kenobi has proven himself very capable."
"You don't think the Council will listen to us?"
"They certainly never listen to me." Dooku scoffed. "Of course, if you find them as stubbornly blind as I did, then you can discuss the matter with me. The New Temple is more than happy to provide permanent Jedi protection to worlds that need it."
"For a price, Count?" Padme glowered at him. "You offer us a Deveronian bargain."
"Of course not." Dooku replied. "The New Temple isn't a business, it's not run for profit. We seek to protect the Outer Rim."
"And the Mid Rim as well, now?"
"Only if you wish it so, Your Majesty."
Padme considered. If there were going to be more assassins with the power of the Jedi chasing her, she would need a bodyguard to match. Hopefully the Jedi Council would be willing to see her need, but if they weren't, where else could she turn but to Dooku and his New Temple?
Not to mention more mundane threats. Her Naboo Security Services were in ashes, and their patrol fighter fleet destroyed. Pirates were known to occasionally penetrate this far into the Mid Rim, and even the Gungans might make an attempt to drive the despised human population of Naboo off their homeworld if they thought they had a chance to do so. Not that the Gungans' military situation was much better than hers, but King Nass hadn't been particularly friendly before the occupation, and Padme doubted that would change much now that she'd used his people as canon fodder.
"Count, there are other matters we would like to discuss before you leave-"
Dooku held up a hand to forestall her, looking back to the entrance. "I hesitate to interrupt, Your Majesty, but it seems we have company."
The doors to the hotel room opened, and in came Jedi Grand Master Yoda and Jedi Master Windu. The two of them stopped just in the doorway, both looking at Dooku in a way that would have seemed almost hostile if they weren't Jedi, to whom emotions like anger were supposedly alien. Padme felt as if she wasn't standing there, the yelling would have already started.
Seemingly reading her thoughts, Yoda looked to her. "Apologies, Your Majesty. Happy to see you in good health, I am. Celebrations are in order, for the liberation of your people."
"You honor me, Grand Master. Your former student's intervention has saved millions of our people from suffering. He has my gratitude, and through him we are grateful to you as well. To free our people, he has suffered a terrible loss of his own." Padme lowered her head to all three of the Jedi. "We will always remember this."
There was a pause as Yoda and Windu looked at each other, then at her.
"Your Majesty, the Order apologizes that it took so long for help to come." Master Windu said, before turning to Dooku. "And sorry that it came at such a high price. Grandmaster Dooku, if you would, we can retire to our ship and talk in private."
With a dismissive curl of his lip, Dooku turned and bowed to Queen Amidala, showing his back to the other two Jedi. "If you wish to discuss future security arrangements, you will always be a welcome guest at Serenno or the New Temple." Then he walked out straight past the two Jedi Masters.
"Nothing to say to us, have you?" Yoda said, turning to watch his student leave.
Dooku paused in the doorway. He didn't look back at the Grandmaster as he spoke softly, "The Duke of Raxus once shared with me a tale about his younger brother, who was battling a terrible Glitterstim addiction. Again and again, he would try to help his brother, paying for his rehabilitation and giving him chances and responsibility to prove himself. Every time, the brother would disappoint the Duke by misusing funds, enriching himself and feeding his own hunger. One day the Duke was ready to begin the cycle anew, when finally it was his younger brother who refused his help. He looked him in the eye and said wisely, 'If you still trust me at this point, whatever happens is your fault.'"
Padme winced internally at that.
"And the funeral, Lord?" Yoda asked. "Will you not attend?"
"...I doubt I would be pleasant company."
The door slammed shut as Dooku stalked away, the sound loud enough that Padme nearly flinched.
She was now alone with the two Jedi Masters, but for Minla. "He told us that there may be more assassins coming for our life, and that I should ask you for protection."
Mace Windu replied. "The Council thinks this is unlikely. Padawan Kenobi has debriefed us, and we've identified the Second Assassin as a mercenary named Aurra Sing, a fallen Jedi Padawan. Though we've yet to identify the first assassin, we've since learned that he's targeted other Jedi Masters previously. We believe his targets were Padawan Kenobi and Master Jinn. He likely hired Aurra Sing to kill Kenobi as revenge for the injuries he sustained."
Padme frowned at that. "Count Dooku has informed us that Maul was sent by a hidden sect on Coruscant. And that our own Senator Palpatine is a part of it."
Both Yoda and Windu exchanged a look at that. "Certainly, Dooku may believe this. We, however, think this unlikely. The first assassin was from Dathomir. Most likely, the sect is there."
"It's possible they could be in contact with Senator Palpatine." Windu conceded. "Of course, we will investigate this and find out who's really behind the assassination attempts. Our top investigator is already on it."
"And what of Padawan Kenobi? He'll be recalled now, won't he?"
"After such an ordeal, Padawan Kenobi has earned his rest." Yoda answered with a nod.
Padme supposed he had at that, but in the meantime it seemed the Count was right; She would have to make her own security arrangements.
With his lip pulled back into a snarling grimace, Darth Sidious stalked through the Coruscant Undercity to his lair. Moving with surprising speed for someone of his age, his hateful shadow seemed to drive away even the rodents and predators of the Undercity, human and alien alike each shied away from him fearfully, understanding by some instinct not to cross his path.
He passed through the darkened streets into his hidden lair, where he bypassed his labyrinthine traps and security measures, before finally coming to his landing pad. Parked there was his own stealth ship, the Scimitar, the dark spirit that inhabited it felt excited to see him for the promise of violence he brought. Without any thought of the Sith guiding it, the ramp lowered.
"Going somewhere, Darth Sidious?" A voice rang out.
Sidious whipped around, surprised to see a pair of yellow eyes gleaming at him from the shadows.
The tall, narrow form of the Munn emerged into the light, hood disguising his face and crinkling slightly at the neck where it bent around his breathing apparatus.
"This close to the election, you don't have time to waste. There's votes on the line." Plagueis chided.
Sidious grimaced, and spat out. "Of course, but the Count has gone rogue. He threatens to reveal our plans to the Jedi."
"He doesn't know our plans."
"But he knows my identity!" Sidious snapped. "If he tells the Jedi that, then the election may be lost on rumors alone!" He was too proud to speak aloud the even greater threat of ten thousand Jedi attacking him at once. Any one he could defeat, even any dozen, but all of them? "He must be silenced!"
Plagueis nodded. "Even the best hyperdrive would take forty eight hours to arrive at Serenno, or the New Temple, then there would be the return journey. He won't wait for you at Naboo, and you can't disappear for so long. Two days' absence could cost you the election, let alone four. Isn't this what your pet is for?"
"I've been… retraining Maul. He's not in a fit state to defeat a Jedi Padawan, let alone Nemesis." Sidious was forced to admit none of the other assassins he might use would stand a chance against the Jedi Order's greatest duelist.
Plagueis regarded his apprentice for a long moment. "Then I will go."
Sidious blinked in surprise. It had been years since Plagueis had willingly risked his own life, devoting his time almost entirely to research.
"You are right. Your assassins are not up to the task, and you are indisposed. This is a problem that must be dealt with." The Munn walked past him, up the ramp to the ship. "I'll be borrowing this."
Sidious nodded, smiling for the first time in what felt like days. "Yes. Good. Gooood."
At the top of the ramp, Plagueis paused and turned to face his apprentice. "Don't be so pleased, Sidious. I will clean this up for you, but you were to be the one who would interface with him not me, and now we have to replace an important cog in our plans at this late hour because of your mistakes."
Internally Sidious seethed, burning with humiliation. Rather than reply, he turned and walked away, heading back to the Senate Tower. After some time he allowed himself to be relieved, and even pleased as a decision was made. Fate was on its way to meet any who dared declare themselves Nemesis to Darth Sidious, the future Emperor of the Galaxy. He leant back into his chair, finally feeling resolved. Fate would be waiting here for Plagueis' return as well…