DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
Padme's long braided chestnut hair brushed against the back of her knee as she walked the corridor with Qui-Gon. She looked down at her feet, bare against the cool grates. They were minuscule compared to the elder man's, encased as they were in his brown boots. His arm was anchored against her back, his hand splayed on her spine. It was warm and reassuring. Just as she felt all of the time that she was with him, reassured and protected. There was no reason why she should dread this. He would be with her, as he had promised her. But still she shivered with dread.
"I promise, Padme." He reassured as they took a corner, "No harm will come to you. You might feel the pain and anguish, but your physical body here will be protected and fine. I would never let harm come to you intentionally."
She nodded, leaning a little closer to him. As she hung her head, he sighed and stopped to raise her head to his again. "I will be there with you. I will feel the same pain that you do; you will share it with me." Meeting her eyes and nodding, he steered toward his cabin, beginning to pace again.
"Obi-Wan?" she asked, quietly.
"Will be there with us. Physically in the room, that is, Padme. He will assure that neither you nor I will thrash to break the bond." Qui-Gon nodded as they neared the door. "It is fairly simple, Padme. We will go into a mutual meditation, and then we will seek out your memory, your dream."
"Yes, teacher." She murmured.
"Listen." He drew her up just short of the door to look at her. "You are a very strong person, Padme, and this is not going to beat you."
"I know." She said, her jaw set. "I have been through this much already; there is no reason why I can't get through the rest." A small smile graced her features.
He nodded and opened the door to his cabin. Obi-Wan stood to face them, having reached the room earlier to begin to make it ready. The lights were soft to ensure ease of meditation, and two comfortable chairs were placed together. Obi-Wan himself was resting against the far wall awaiting their arrival with faintly controlled impatience.
Qui-Gon looked at the room and nodded approvingly. "Good, Padawan"
Obi-Wan moved toward them, a gleam in his eye. "Have you done this before, Master?"
"Once." He said quietly, "A long time ago, Obi-Wan. But it is something that all Jedi learn during their training. In fact, this will be an introduction for you both." He motioned toward the chair, and led Padme ahead of him.
Padme stopped in front of the chair and stared at its surface. The material seemed cold and impersonal. As she laid her hand upon it, she could feel its lack of friendliness and aloofness. Quietly, she turned her head to the side to look at Qui-Gon. In the dimmed lights of the room, Qui-Gon's features were slightly shadowed; his nose and chin were still sharp and prominent. His blue eyes were soft and kind, supportive. He had not worn his full Jedi garb; his simple tan tunic stretched over his brown pants. As she watched, he removed his brown boots so that his bare feet trod on the floor of the room. To Padme, he was a tall, broad man, willing to do whatever was needed to insure her peace of mind and sanity. Strong and silent, and very caring, he embodied refuge to her.
Qui-Gon made his way to the other chair that was provided and sank into its depths. He waited as Padme laid her hands against the chair again, but was surprised as she turned to stand in front of him instead of sitting in the chair. "Padme?" he asked, raising a hand to hold her arm. "What is it?"
She swallowed and hung her head under his gaze. When she raised her head, she whispered: "Can I sit with you?"
This was not the response to his question that he had expected. He was slightly taken aback by the utterance, but knew that she was not asking in vain. She truly needed his support to be that close. Standing before him as she was, he thought that she looked like a sprite, or an angel. "If that is what would help you the most, Padme, then yes."
She sighed and nodded; seeming almost saddened by the idea. She slowly lowered herself onto his larger frame, allowing him to put his arms around her waist. He smiled gently as the girl fit her head under his chin and nodded to Obi-Wan to move the other chair from the center of the room. As his Padawan moved the chair, he began to whisper lowly to Padme. "Close your eyes. Breathe deeply, think calm thoughts. Choose a word that will serve to alert Obi-Wan or me that we need to end the process. If you say the word, we will awaken and the dream cannot and will not hurt you."
Padme was quiet for a few moments, until she smiled and said, "Brace."
Qui-Gon nodded and continued. "Good. Now relax and let me into your thoughts. Match my breathing with yours…."
Padme could feel the coolness of the sheets behind her back, made even cooler by the breeze that swept across her from the open window. Lying on her back, she felt the same feeling of peace that she always did, lying on her bed as the summer night moved on. She could tell it was her bedroom that she shared with her sister, because of the rustling of the leaves outside the window and the movement of sheets across the room. As she lay there, feeling as though she were twelve again, she knew that she was not. Qui-Gon's quiet voice came lowly in her ear. "Yes, Padme. We have just entered into your memory. Everything will play out as it did, only you will be who you are now."
She leaned back in the bed to feel a hard chest against her shoulder. Sighing, she smiled. Qui-Gon answered it with a chuckle. "Yes, I know this is strange, Padme. And unfortunately, you will have no secrets from me here."
"But you are…" Padme flipped over to stare at him. "Here."
Qui-Gon smiled gently, "Yes. Did you think I would let you go through this alone? You will experience this occurrence with me." After a little minute of silence, he asked. "Did you always feel this safe and loved when at home?"
"Yes." Came her simple answer, to which she added, "Except with you and Obi-Wan."
He nodded quietly and waited with her, until there was a slight commotion outside of the heavy wooden door that guarded the entrance to the bedchamber. Without saying anything to Qui-Gon, Padme rose and crossed the room to a chair, from where she pulled her lightsabre and her cover. Before she covered herself, she turned to her friend and motioned toward the door. "There is a disturbance in my father's study. I can hear the talk, and I can feel my father's…"
The Jedi lay a hand on her arm and nodded. "Yes, I can feel your father's anger and fear, too. It is righteous anger, not hatred, Padme."
She relaxed visibly and pulled on her cover. Qui-Gon sighed lightly as the girl's form was caught under the light of the moon that filtered in the window. Her light cotton shift hid little of her blossoming curves. With her long hair unbound and falling in waves around her, and her small feet naked against the floor, he thought of how he had, just a lunar cycle ago, thought of her as his charge. The image of her held him entranced for a moment, and in that instant, he knew that she was no longer an innocent girl in his mind, but rather a lovely young woman. But through the vision of beauty he saw, the shadow of fear lurked, and he grimaced as he felt her mind shut off with the emotion.
Without talking, she turned and opened the door, careful of the squeaks, which he knew happened from years of experience. This way, Master, she thought and smiled as his hand encased hers. His voice was warm in her ears as he quietly reminded her, "Deep breaths, Padme; nothing will hurt you here."
The look of deep pain that she shot him and the quickness of her step towards the hidden room filled his soul with dread. She pulled him along the corridor, avoiding most of the areas where the floor was visible, keeping to where the warmth still resided. As she reached a small door, she reached down to pull it open, gesturing inside with her hand. The elder man watched as she scrambled through the door and onto a thin walkway above an open room. He followed along behind her, keeping below the height of the old wooden railing as she had done. As she came to a corner, lit by a soft Crudarian light, she stopped and gazed down in the room. Qui-Gon stopped also, turning his mind to the vision below, but keeping his hand on his student's leg to keep her grounded.
The setting that the Jedi was shown was that of an office, or work center that was most certainly Brace Amidala's. The gathered materials were of old Naboodian heritage: a small globe hologram showing the planet, a strange tapestry made of several hallucinogenic fabrics, collections of wildlife. On the far wall, there was a collection of the Jedi weapons that Brace had been trained in including his sabre and his cloak. Brace himself stood in front of the desk, leaning against it, with his arms crossed on his chest. He was as Qui-Gon remembered, compact, lithe and somewhat handsome.
Brace was having a heated argument with a man that stood in front of him that the Jedi, and, obviously Padme, recognized as Eisley Palpatine. A hologram of Bail Organa, ambassador from Alderaan was outlined on the table between the two men. Brace's voice rose to a fevered pitch as Palpatine argued with him.
"But surely, you see, your election to the councilship of Naboo was in error. The votes were counted wrong." Bail stated calmly.
Palpatine would have none of the peace making possibilities. "I have served this family and the planet well; if there was a problem with the voting methods…"
"There is no problem, Palpatine." Brace resounded. "The people have chosen. If you are not the council then…I am sorry, but you have to forfeit the position."
Palpatine hung his head. Nodding his ascention, he moved to the far wall towards the door. "But, of course, King Amidala."
As the door shut behind him, Brace turned to the hologram. "Bail, I'll handle this. There might still be something that I can do. If Palpatine is still in office in one half of a standard lunar cycle, then he shall remain there. Please do not bring this to the Chancellor's…"
"It is safe with me, old friend." Bail began to grow dimmer. "Let me know if I can be of any help."
The room dropped into silence as the hologram disappeared and Brace was left alone in the dim room. Qui-Gon moved next to Padme, placing his arm on her legs and facing her. "Padme." He whispered, when she turned to look at him, he sighed. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her breath was coming in heaves. The man reached out and enveloped his companion in a tight embrace. Padme gripped his tunic fiercely, shuddering and whimpering. Qui-Gon knew that the more severe part was coming. He laid his lips on Padme's cheek and murmured, "Remember the word to…."
His words were cut off as the door below burst open as Palpatine and another figure entered the room. The entry was so quick and forceful; the door left an indent on the wall behind it. The second figure as a smaller, less imposing figure than the senator, and covered in a black hood. As he pulled it back, Padme took a deep breath and released it in a rush. The being was humanoid, covered in red and black paint. Its eyes were red or pink; it was hard to tell in the light. Horns adorned its head. With a flash, the man had withdrawn a sabre with two blades and had them lit. The blades flashed blood red in the dimness of the room.
Qui-Gon felt his stomach knot. The pain and fear was coming from Padme, radiating off of her in waves. He wanted to draw her away, but knew that she needed the experience to help cleanse her soul. As she sat watching, the being stepped near Brace and swung the sabre. The King leapt into the air, and the sabre from the wall flew to his hand as he landed. "Palpatine!" he shouted.
The rest of the sentence was cut off as a fight ensued below. The clashes of the purple and the red swords were furious, sparks flying as both beings fought for the upper hand. Brace went to pass under the railing as the Senator's eyes dragged along the upper landing, finding Padme. Palpatine's hand wavered as he pointed. "You may not be willing to change for yourself, Brace…"the man's voice was hard. "But maybe you will for your daughter."
Brace stopped, calling without looking. "Padme, run! Run now!" Before he could continue his swings, the opponent swung his sword, plunging it through the man's chest.
Time stopped.
Padme was in shock, her breathing erratic, and her pulse fast and weak. The Jedi gazed at her during this moment of time misplacement. The man knew that the version of events would now be his to interrupt, as it was obvious that the girl's shock would interfere with the vision. He prepared himself for the next situation.
Qui-Gon next found himself next to the girl as she stood in front of the men, holding her lit sabre in front of her. "Father!" she exclaimed.
There was no answer. Padme edged toward the fallen King, crying openly. "Father!"
Palpatine nodded toward her and motioned to his apprentice. "Restrain her."
The girl cried out, whipping the sabre from side to side, blindly making contact with anything that she could. Qui-Gon knew the swings: blinded, untimed, and crazed. Her shock was preventing her from completing the correct moves. He watched helplessly as the man approached Padme. He could do nothing here, but be with her. Quickly, the elder man knocked the sabre from her grasp and pinned the girl against the wall with his own sabre. "Kill her?" it asked its master.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath and moved next to the girl. She was no longer looking for him, recognizing him. She was completely submerged in the dream. Still, he edged behind her, in a crevice, laying his hands on her waist. It seemed as though nothing happened, but after a minute, it became obvious that she was less frantic.
"No." answered Palpatine. "I have a better idea."
The removal of the small gas pack was quick and hard to catch. But once its contents were sprayed in the girl's face, she rapidly fell unconscious. Qui-Gon felt a loss of direction and of logic as the world went black.
Suddenly, the location changed in the dream. It was a small office, more like a utility outpost in the castle. Regardless, the surroundings were cold. He looked at Padme, lying in his arms on a small cot in the corner of the room. She awoke quickly and tried to rise, but he reached over to lay a hand on her arm. She took a deep breath and turned, full of anger, until she saw him. "Qui-Gon?"
"Yes." He whispered, laying his hand on her cheek.
"My father…"
"I know, Padme, I know." He leaned closer to her; tears were falling from his face and hers. "But he died honorably. You know that."
She nodded, holding his wrist. He could still feel pain and unbelievable horror coming from her mind. But he could not guess as to what it was, because, the girl had no idea. Before he could say anything else, the door slid open on the small room and the red and black humanoid entered. Behind him drifted in an interrogator droid.
Padme's heart stopped, as did Qui-Gon's. "They would not dare." He whispered.
It was at this point that the dream took on a splintered reality as the memories of Padme's mind began to replay in bits and pieces. Qui-Gon would see the searing of tender flesh, and hear the mental and verbal screams of pain. He could see the electrical charge, feel the devastating effects on the heart and mind. As the pain was applied, quickly and in great amounts, the being would repeatedly say a short concise story, obviously trying to replace the memory of her father's death and the conversation before hand in the girl's head. The pain grew and grew until….
"It's okay, Padme." He could hear himself talking to her physically. Slowing, the dazzling images of pain dwindled until he found himself returned to his cabin on the Republic 7. The room lights were still dim. His Padawan was squatting on the floor in front of the chair, holding one of each of their arms. "Padme."
The girl was in a fetal position on his chest, crying violently. As his full senses came around, he bent near her to pull her face up to his. "Padme. Listen. You are all right. Nothing has happened; it was a memory." As she continued to shake, he pulled her tightly against him. "I know, little one, I know. No one could stand that pain easily. That you did not die is incredible."
Her tears fell on his neck as he cradled her to his chest. Obi-Wan grimaced over her to his Master. The elder man shook his head, indicating that now was not the time to discuss the dream. He motioned to the younger man to leave the room with an order. "Remove that practice droid to the utilities portion of ship and do not call it again, is that understood?" The Jedi had recognized the similarity between the practice droid and the interrogator droid from the dream.
The younger man nearly ran from the room, gathering that it was the source of the current problem and the door slid shut behind him. The sniffles and cries from the girl were slowing, and Qui-Gon eased on his embrace. He continued to stroke her head, talking quietly. "I was at your father's funeral with Mace. We were all told that it was a piloting accident. The body was found burned in the wreckage of his personal fighter. Obviously, they burned it to keep the sabre duel a secret." When the girl did not talk, but her breaths became more regular, he continued. "You, as I remember, were not at the funeral. Senator Palpatine talked for you saying that you and your sister were so sick with grief that you were unable to attend. No one saw you for a lunar cycle. The scars and burns must have needed time to heal."
Padme nodded, whispering, "Sade was ready for the coronation ceremony a good half a lunar ahead of me, but I kept thinking that something was wrong. That the information that we were receiving was not the truth. They sent me to Palpatine to get the information and I disappeared for another cycle. Within a week, I accepted my father's death and took the throne with my sister." She turned her face to the Jedi. "He was murdered by Palpatine. And Palpatine…"
"Does not have the right to be holding the councilship." The Jedi continued for the girl.
"Bail Organa would be able to account for that conversation." Padme sat up straight on his lap, her feet dangling off the floor. "We can contact…"
"He is on board." The Jedi stated his voice low and warm. "He has been on board for a hour."
Padme leaned forward to rise, speaking as she did so. "I must speak with him. I must ask him to…" as the girl reached her feet, her body revolted, folding in on itself. Her legs crumpled, sending her towards the floor. Qui-Gon caught her, easing her back up into his arms as he stood. Gently he carried her over to his bed, laying her on its covers. She shook her head with a sigh of impatience and motioned towards the door. "I must…"
"You need rest, little one." He answered, kissing her nose.
"But…"
"If you promise to remain in the bed, I will get the ambassador and bring him here." The Jedi conceded, knowing that the girl would move if he did not make the effort. "We will deal with this, but your mind thinks that you have just been tortured and your emotional state is raw. Your body is tired from the day of practice. Give yourself a kiloparsec and you will be physically fine, although I would give it quite sometime before you accept fully the situations…."
Padme gripped his hand, sighing. "My father was murdered. I was tortured. My people and my family have been betrayed. I have accepted the situations, teacher." She met his eyes and sighed. "I feel that I will weep at night until the pain eases, but thank you. Thank you for the knowledge, Qui-Gon."
He nodded, bending to kiss the girl again on the cheek. "Stay here." He admonished. Rising he left the room to discuss the actions of a traitor with an ambassador and an unseated Queen.