Chapter 65: CH65
That brought a dose of reality that Padmé needed, and despite her throbbing head, her vision became clearer. She knew he was still upset with her over last night, but if he was in her bedroom, she realized the news wasn't good. She could see the concerned looks on both their faces, which bordered on full-fledged worry.
"What is it?" she asked, eager to find out, her mind already racing with ideas, each more dreadful than the last.
"We received word that Darth Vader launched an attack within the Senate this morning," Captain Typho announced, her voice filled with worry. "He has killed delegates from Arbra, Bakura, Bothawui, Calamari… and Naboo."
Padmé gasped. "Who?" Her voice was tinged with panic. She needed to know. "What about Bail? Mon?" There was a look in Typho's eyes that she couldn't decipher, yet his jaw was tight and his eyes were guarded. "There's no official word," he said, but she sensed he wanted to say more.
"Then we can't leave," Padmé argued, trying to stand her ground. "Bail said–"
"Padmé. No," Typho said, sounding frustrated. His hand rubbed his face before he spoke again, his voice a little lower. "I sent Anthony and Kasé out last night while you were… gone." Padmé didn't miss the irritation lacing the end of his words. "They found no trace of Bail or Mon, or any of the high-ranking members. Everyone is gone." His eyes grew serious, but Padmé could see the dread lingering just below the surface. "We need to leave. Now."
Dormé threw Padmé's slippers at her feet before wrapping her cloak around her shoulders. The situation seemed so dire that there was no time to change out of her nightgown. They pressed forward, with Typho leading both women from the room and through the living area.
"The delegates from this morning managed to send a distress signal before it happened– or possibly during, " he continued. "I was made aware of their escape last night. They offered to take them with you, but I declined on your behalf, knowing where you stood on the matter."
Padmé paused, holding her ground and standing tall. "And I believe it's worth saying that I still stand here," she said firmly. "I shouldn't leave."
Dormé sighed, clearly annoyed. Typho, on the other hand, suddenly appeared desperate.
"Padmé, please. He's coming for blood." Typho grasped her hands tightly as he stared down at her. "I have always strived to keep you safe. Your life is far more important than mine. Please let me protect you now. We cannot risk staying. You will be next." There was a sadness in his eyes- not tears, but close. "Please don't make me watch as they take you. Not when I can do something about it now."
Padmé was touched by his emotion– by his care. She had always known it was there, but witnessing it was something entirely different. She wanted it to be enough, yet she wasn't certain that it was. She wrestled with her decision.
"I will be labeled a traitor," she replied quietly, "and then what can I do for the galaxy?"
Dormé scoffed, undoubtedly aware of the hidden meaning behind her words. She understood that her friend knew she felt responsible, and because of that, Padmé wasn't sure she deserved to run. She couldn't escape her mistakes or leave others to suffer the consequences of her actions. She had to stay and face the music. She had to try to right her wrongs or die trying.
"Don't be a martyr for your cause," Dormé said angrily, but it was also a plea. "It won't do anyone any good."
Typho nodded, sharing her desperation but lacking the handmaid's anger. "If you escape, you will live."
"If I run," Padmé corrected.
Typho didn't appear concerned about the difference. "You'll achieve more for the galaxy by running than you could if you stay and die."
Padmé disliked it, but she understood it was true. She wouldn't achieve anything for the galaxy if she perished due to her own stubbornness. She couldn't correct her mistakes if she failed here and now.
She nodded silently, and she heard both Typho and Dormé sigh with relief around her. "Okay," Typho said as he moved toward the door to lead them. "Let's go."
They barely made it ten feet before the sound of footsteps and shouting erupted from outside the door. The three froze inside, only able to listen as Padmé's security denied the undeniable voice of clone troopers from entering her apartment.
A sense of dread filled her heart until it spilled into the room, siphoning away all hope.
They were too late. They were here for her.
Some sort of scuffle broke out on the other side of the door. There were thumps and pounds, the sound of firsts and armor. She heard a few yells and cries. Then, there was the sound of blasters, and everything went silent.
The next occurrence happened so quickly that Padmé wasn't even sure what had taken place.
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