Dedication: Bethany - fifteen years (I've lost count) of friendship later, here we are with too many Star Wars jokes to count, way too much money spent on seeing the movies and too many posters and trinkets. Thanks for helping out with so many little things, and putting up with knowing more about this than you wanted before you read it. And, a special note of thanks must go out to my friend Steve - who devoted too many hours the weekend before finals helping me plan out the details of the final battle. Without his help, it definitely would have turned into a starfighter circus.

Note: The following story is concordant with Expanded Universe books except for the following: SW: EII: AOTC, all Clone Wars books, Tatooine Ghost, Survivor's Quest, and the Dark Nest Trilogy. Also, I own squat of anything having to do with LucasFilm, LucasBooks, Skywalker Ranch, 20th Century Fox, Del Rey, Bantam Books and...well, you get the idea.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS

EPISODE II:

REPUBLIC TWILIGHT

For a thousand generations, the Galactic Republic thrived. Peace and justice ruled, secured by an ancient order that swore to protect the Republic – the Jedi Knights. The Naboo crisis, thirteen years ago, was the closest thing to war the galaxy had seen in all this time.

But war has come. Under the dictates of a mysterious leader, a section of the Republic has seceded. Forces work within the Republic to destroy it, while the clone armies of the Separatists have harassed it from the outside. Three years now the galaxy has now been at war with itself. The Jedi Knights gallantly defend the systems of the Republic, but the battlefronts have grown so numerous they cannot protect them all from the Separatist armies.

The small planet of Naboo has become one of these unfortunate systems. The Separatists now hold the Queen and her family captive. Hope for help from the Republic, and the Jedi who saved them once before, grows slimmer each day…

Negotiations

1

"Come on, get a move on! What do you think you're doing? MOVE!" the guard shouted. He gestured wildly with his blaster. If these people didn't move any quicker he was going to shoot them right here, right now.

"Karlon, what in the Gods do you think you're doing? Stop waving your blaster around like that!" Another guard yelled at him, this one female. To herself, she muttered, "You're gonna shoot your own blasted head off."

"Ah, I don't care! They'd better know what's comin' to them! Been sitting in the lap of luxury too long – they deserve to be scared!" Karlon leered at the youngest in the group. She shrank back away from him, and he waved his blaster at her.

A hand reached out to the little girl, resting on her shoulder; its owner glared at Karlon, daring him to make the move he so obviously desired to carry out.

The guard let out a slight growl and looked away from the girl, muttering under his breath.

"Padmé? Are we really going to be ok?" the younger girl asked, looking up at the woman standing behind her.

"Talié, don't you worry. I promise you, we'll be fine. They are just moving us to another place to live, that's all. It's going to be nice there, you'll see," Padmé told her younger sister. Talié smiled up at her.

In truth, Padmé only wished she could share the girl's bliss. She was well educated – she knew what happened when people in power were moved from place to place, humiliated all the while, simply because of what they believed in..

"Padmé, your hair looks different," Talié said as she pointed to the Queen's shortened locks, breaking her sister's concentration.

After a month and a half away from what the mono-faced Separatists called the 'life of luxury,' Padmé had gotten fed up with it and shortened it so it could be pulled back into a single, short braid.

"What?"

"Your hair. It's different. The color's changed."

"My dear Talié, you must be confused. You know my hair just doesn't change colors like a chamelicks' hide! Now, why don't you go walk by Mother?" Padmé watched over her shoulder as the girl swiftly wandered back to her parents.

She sighed.

Her little sister was so cute, growing up so fast. Talié was just about the age when she herself had ascended the throne. Thinking back, Padmé wondered how she had managed to hold together her people so well when she was so young. Now, being older and more experienced, she was being forced to march through the woods and marshes.

Padmé Amidala didn't care what happened to her. For now she was content that she never had to lay eyes on that disgusting pig of a Neimoidian, Nute Gunray, again. He tried once to take over Naboo and failed. He returned, and Padmé knew with his first transmission, declaring invasion, that the battle thirteen years ago only delayed the inevitable. This time, he had a living army and that just unnerved her, they all looked alike with the same creepy, half-alive look in their eyes…

"HALT!" Karlon shouted, startling a group of birds nesting in a nearby tree which took off with a flurry of squawking.

The royal family stopped its march and the rebel guards moved to face them. The Queen looked down the line of people, past her sister, her mother and father, to her advisors and handmaidens. All were known Loyalists to the Republic.

"Well, well, my little Loyalists. The day has come, Naboo finally becomes a true member of our little Federation!" Karlon was a man of few words, and when he was done he raised his blaster. In unison, the other guards followed suit.

On Karlon's count of three, blaster fire filled the air. Padmé didn't hear him; she wasn't even really seeing the laser blasts. She stood stoically, waiting.

So this is what it comes to…well, let it be…she thought.

A blinding white burst of pain flashed through her mind when one of the laser bolts hit her. Determined not to cry out, she fell to the ground. Breathing became increasingly difficult, black spots started to cloud her vision. Neurons fired in her brain, conjuring up random memories. A small boy…about ten years old and smiling with bright blue eyes…

Those blue eyes…

Anakin Skywalker…

Padmé did not even realize she thought the name, for that was when everything stopped.


Across the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker jolted out of his concentration. His blue eyes darted around the room, startled.

Someone just called his name.

Realizing that no one had in fact called his name he shook his head. Still holding onto his lightsaber, he reached up and wiped his brow. Just across from him, Obi-Wan Kenobi watched him.

"Anakin, are you alright?"

"Sorry, Master…I just felt something, through the Force." Anakin took another cursory glance around the room, unable to shake the feeling that someone was trying to reach out to him.

"A disturbance?"

"Not exactly…it was like a whisper, a shadow of something. I thought at first that you were calling to me." Anakin scrunched his eyebrows, thinking. He shrugged and raised his lightsaber once more.

Obi-Wan, however, shut his off and walked over to the water dispenser on the other side of the circular room. As he walked, he said, "I don't like this…this is the second time in the past couple months. Perhaps you've had enough for today? I know I sure have, you've beaten the stuffing out of me!"

As he gulped down a healthy dose of water, he looked back at Anakin. The young man still stood in the center of the room, and Obi-Wan knew he was still troubled.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, go and hang out with your friends, and leave your poor old master alone to heal his aching joints?"

Anakin shrugged, smiling. He would rather stay in the practice room, honing his skills. Obi-Wan was a good match, and he knew his master was just kidding him. Plus, 'friends' applied loosely to his fellow young Jedi. Arriving late at the Temple, Anakin was not widely accepted. The rumors that he was to be the Chosen One spread rapidly, immediately setting him apart. His fellow students privately cast him out, shunning him behind the Masters' backs. As he grew older, and the bond between him and Obi-Wan increased, the other Padawans became more jealous.

Obi-Wan and Anakin were the perfect pair, and even more rumors ran rampant about how they were invincible. Adding to their mysticism was the fact that the Chosen One was paired with a master who nearly did not become a Knight himself. It was the perfect poetic justice.

"Master, please?" Anakin gave his master a pleading face and twirled his lightsaber.

"And how fare you today, young Obi-Wan and young Anakin?" Mace Windu asked as he stepped into the room. Both Jedi turned to face him.

"Absolutely brilliant." Anakin had a sense of humor that sometimes ragged on the older Masters, but not today. Mace smiled.

"My Padawan insists on practicing with his master, even when I am getting old and feeble," Obi-Wan replied, teasing Anakin.

"I came here to inform you, Obi-Wan, that Master Yoda requires your presence. He has a matter most urgent he must speak to you about. If your apprentice would wish, I will remain and see whether his skills with the lightsaber are what the other students claim them to be."

Mace looked to Anakin, his right hand near his lightsaber.

"I would be honored, Master Windu," Anakin said. He brought his saber up to the ready position, and quickly glanced at Obi-Wan. With a nod to Anakin, Obi-Wan stepped out of the room to let boy and Jedi Master duel.

Mace and Anakin circled each other. Mace was cool and calculating, watching the younger Jedi closely. Without another thought, Mace made the first attack, swinging low. Anakin moved up to block, forcing Mace to come out of his attack high.

Instnatly, Anakin made a light attack, and Mace blocked it easily. Attack, block, attack, block. The pattern repeated itself over and over… Anakin nor Mace grew tired, each of them drawing more and more on the Force. Mace's face was expressionless as he gave himself into the fight and sank into Vapaad. Anakin predicted more of the Master's moves and parried to block a strong attack. The block swung Anakin around, giving him the perfect opening, and he took it. Just as his lightsaber would have found its way into Mace's chest, he switched it off.

"Congratulations, it seems you are the swordsman your master makes you out to be. I haven't had a good practice like that for quite some time," Mace complimented. He tucked his lightsaber away and clipped it onto his belt.

"Thank you, Master." Anakin took a deep bow. He struggled not to smile.

For a second more, Mace studied him. One of his hands rested on his hip, and Anakin could see he was thinking something over. The Master broke the silence, speaking again.

"Another thing, young Anakin."

It was not a question.

"Yes, Master?" Anakin replied, not sure where Mace wanted to go with this. He winced slightly, sure that some lecture about how something slight he did during the duel was unbecoming of a Jedi. It was the most common thing he heard – he was too fast, too forceful…

"Your reserve in attack is not something commonly found in Jedi your age…Too much these days the Jedi are getting reckless, arrogant. You have a good heart, a good mind…you serve to the best you can, and resort to harsh measures only if necessary. May we hope to have more Jedi like you in the future."

Anakin blushed with the Master's compliments; caught off guard, his jaw dropped slightly and he forced himself to keep it shut. Of all the Masters, Mace was the hardest one to get positive recognition from – next to Yoda, of course. He mumbled another thank you and bowed. Mace smiled, and turned to leave.


Obi-Wan made his way through the Temple, taking the turbolift up to Yoda's meditation chamber. He knocked quietly three times on the door, waiting.

"Enter, you may," Yoda said quietly from within. Obi-Wan opened the door and stepped in, taking a seat on one of the round cushions next to Yoda.

"You wished to speak to me, Master Yoda?"

"I did, yes." Yoda nodded, and slowly blinked. He looked out the window then back at Obi-Wan.

"Each day, more refugees there are. Unorganized, unsure they are; homes and jobs they need. A good job for you and your Padawan, to help them."

"A better job for my apprentice than me, Master," Obi-Wan replied.

Yoda regarded him. He took a breath, then said, "Perhaps some truth you speak. Headstrong your apprentice is…but perhaps not so unlike yourself is he."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly. Both of them did have the same fault…

"Still, good work for both of you it will be. Tame you both, we shall."

Obi-Wan blushed slightly at the little green being's words. Yoda was right; he still had a wild streak in him. What Qui-Gon had not been able to tame was amplified by Anakin. Despite his will to bring justice to the causes he threw himself into, Anakin still had a habit of being headstrong and rushing things. Even Obi-Wan had a hard time not catching his youthful exuberance.

Anakin's thoughts still wandered back to his mother on occasion, but he never let them get in the way of his responsibilities. The memory of slavery made him all the more devoted to releasing those in bondage.

Yoda closed his eyes, sinking back into the Force. Obi-Wan took the hint, and followed with him. Opening himself up, he could sense the happenings in the Temple: a student down in the library getting frustrated, and even a slight sense of pride coming from his apprentice.

Outside the Temple, life bustled in the monstrous city, people worrying over jobs, money, children. Suddenly, as he expanded beyond Coruscant, a throng of wrong hit Obi-Wan. He pushed towards the feeling. It wasn't dark, yet it wasn't light. It was life that resonated wrongly in the Force, hard to understand.

This life was tampered with, altered and unnatural. And it was increasing, by the hundreds.

Clones.

All too familiar, over the past three years, their resonance in the Force had become. Jedi did not have to look at a clone to know it was one.

"But, Master, if they are life and all life is the Force, then how are they so wrong?"

"True, life they are. Twisted life, engineered life, unnatural they are; and natural the Force is. Created not by life and not by the Force and so upset the balance they will. Forever upset the meaning of life, upset the meaning of the Force. Bring neither good nor evil they will, but wrong they will end up doing."

"So they are evil, then."

"No, young Obi-Wan. Not evil. Difference between evil and wrong you must learn. All evil is wrong, but not all wrong isevil. Poor choice is wrong. Wrong is mistake, mistake that may end in disaster from poor choice. In poor choice, no intent of doing evil is there. Evil is doing wrong with intent; intent of harm, intent of death and suffering. Through not knowing evil or good, greater wrong you can do."

"I see." Obi-Wan nodded. He mulled the Jedi Master's words over in his head. "So if the Cloners and their clones are doing wrong by cloning, they may end up in doing evil in time, wrong turning into evil. Then how do you stop them? Violence cannot be used, but it seems to be the answer the Republic has chosen."

Yoda looked at him, and nodded slowly. He blinked then smiled. Obi-Wan sighed, he wasn't sure what exactly Yoda was trying to convey. He got the feeling that Yoda was possibly attempting to tell him to be patient, to wait. Sensing that Yoda was going to say no more, Obi-Wan got to his feet. Behind him the old Jedi sank back into meditation.

"Well, I suppose it's off to find Anakin and learn when the next refugee ship comes in…" he said to himself once he was outside the room, making his way to where he had last left his apprentice.


Splish, splush, splish.

Water.

Close.

Life.

She cracked her eyes open, blinking in the stinging light.

Water.

She had to get to water…water was help. Her eyes closed again, she sank back into the darkness.

Later, the water woke her again. The sun wasn't so bright now – it was starting to set. Slowly, afraid to move too much, she looked around her. Blood was everywhere – on the ground and her, coating her clothes. She could hear the water more clearly now, her senses were slowing coming back. Gradually she eased herself up.

The blood ran everywhere, and with the sight of it her memory came back. She recalled the blaster bolts, then the darkness. Closing her eyes tight, she made herself stop moving. She willed the ground to stop moving.

But water, she had to get water. Her arm burned where a blaster bolt had grazed it, and as she moved pain flared in her leg from another near hit. Painfully she crawled like a wounded womp rat towards the sound of the water. The effort made it so her brain was only aware of the intense pain in her arm. She struggled on, trying not to think of what had happened to her.

Poor Talié…poor Sabé, they had gotten hit first…

The sun was almost down now, and she felt like she had been crawling for days. Just then, she could make out the sight of the giant lake before her. The lapping of the water was louder now and she made on final push to reach it –

Her strength failed. The darkness came to take her again, and she let it.


Something poked her. And again. She struggled to open her eyes, and looked up. Floppy ears…a long face stared down at her.

"Ca..Captain…"

"Misa lady? Yousa injured, wesa here to help," General Tarpals said. "Gungans helpsa old friends in need."

The Gungan smiled at her, she looked into his eyes. He knew who she was, but his words told her not to confirm it. All the better for her sake…if they found out she was still alive…

Tarpals looked up and motioned to one of his men. He brought over an oblong bubble and opened up one side of it.

"Misa lady ride in thisa on the way to the city, she wilsa be safe from the water," Tarpals told her. He helped her climb into it. Once inside, she settled down and faded out once more.

Fish.

They were all she could see. She shifted her gaze, and a Gungan was standing over her. It wasn't Tarpals.

"Boss Teers…" she whispered faintly.

"Yousa in the Gungan hospital, misa lady. Tis a safe place. We be given you aide, yousa be healthy soon. Tis also a private place," Boss Teers said the last part under his breath.

"The Queen of the Naboo always try to help us…wesa help her when shesa needs it. General Tarpals wilsa help yousa get off the planet. Till then yousa stay here, yousa rest and be welcome. Perhaps…yousa choose a different name…"

Padmé nodded. With the Gungan leader's promise to help her get off planet, she was content. She hoped there might be some way she could get to Coruscant and petition for the aide of Chancellor Palpatine. Once he helped her save Naboo, surely he would do so again. He would know how to help the misplaced Queen regain control of her planet – not to mention Palpatine was her boss of sorts, being the Chancellor of the Republic. It only helped he was also from Naboo.

Over the next few days, Padmé spent her time talking with Boss Teers on how to deal with the invaders and their strong anti-Gungan sentiments. She also made better friends with Tarpals, who was allowed to know her true identity. She was friendly and talkative to the other Gungans, but she never volunteered information on what happened that day. Dealing with the thought that she failed her people rested hard on her, and she couldn't bring herself to face what happened to her family.

On the third day, a man working with the underground to overthrow the Separatists came down to Otoh Gunga. He was one of the few contacts Boss Teers and the Gungans had to the surface world.

"My lady, Boss Teers," he said, offering his hand to both of them. "Call me Jay for now. It's part of the underground, each mission we get a different alias."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jay," Padmé replied. Boss Teers did likewise.

"To business. I have information that in two days a transport will be leaving. It will be carrying trading goods, we can smuggle you onto the ship. Unfortunately, I do not know its destination."

Jay paused.

Boss Teers and Padmé looked at each other. Jay looked to them both.

"If you don't know where it is going, then what will I do? I need to get to Coruscant!" Padmé said urgently.

"My lady, getting you a transport directly to Coruscant would be too dangerous. I don't want to know why you have to go there. I don't even want to know who you are. All I know is you are important. Right now, the invaders are checking all the ships outbound for the capitol for stowaways. They check when they take off, and again when they land. I've even heard if they find someone, they shoot them dead on the spot, no questions asked.

"What we can do is get you a transport off-planet. Like I said, I can't tell you where. Security is another reason I can't find out where, if I am captured then I can't tell them where you went. What we will do is give you enough money to get you a ticket to…wherever you need to go."

Padmé nodded. She liked the way this guy worked. He was all business, and refused to know more than he needed for her sake. She hoped that when – if – she got to Coruscant there would still be an underground to aide.

"I'll do it."

"Good, I'm glad my lady. We will send somebody to get you when the ship is ready. It leaves two nights from this one, so be ready. We will bring you a change of clothes…those are rather…noticeable." His eyebrows rose as he glanced at her clothing, they looked as if they came from the royal palace. Or at least that they had at one point. Giving a final nod to the both of them, he left.

Two nights later, another agent came for her. He claimed to be Woo, but sounded oddly like Jay. Padmé couldn't see him clearly through the night, so she wasn't positive. After she changed clothes and journeyed back to the surface, Woo got her aboard the freighter. She stowed away in a large box that claimed to contain several of the prized chamelicks rich people purchased as pets. To pass the time, she was given a vial of sleeping pills to knock her out for most of the journey. An indicator was installed on the inside of the box, capable of reading when the ship was in flight or landed.

When the indicator flashed that the ship was entering hyperspace, Padmé gulped down one of the pills with her small supply of water. Just before she fell asleep, she counted her money: a total of two hundred Republic Ditaries. She settled back, and fell asleep.


Beep, beep, beep.

Padmé jolted out of her sleep. She panicked at first, not recalling where she was. Then she saw the green indicator light flashing.

Now was the time to find out where they dumped her.

Her box was one of the first ones loaded, so it would be last in unloading. That way, hopefully she could push out the little door and escape out the back unnoticed. She felt her box lifted, and could feel the slant of the exit ramp. Inside, she tried to maintain her balance; the box was supposed to be tightly packed with cages.

After waiting what felt like forever, she pushed the exit door out. Looking around, she could see the opening to the rest of the spaceport. She slunk out, and made her way over to it.

"Hey! You! STOP!" the ship captain called after her, having spotted her.

Padmé broke into a run, and her leg screamed in protest. Realizing that it was still sensitive from the injury, she favored it and loped along as best she could. The captain started after her, but stopped halfway to the entranceway.

"Oh well…damn stowaways! Not much you can do about it. Thankfully I wasn't shipping out to Coruscant, or I'd have to shoot 'em…Not likely they'll be of much concern, here anyways," the captain trailed off. He turned back to the dockworker, who was shaking his head. "Well, keep unloading! Can't let a stupid stowaway stop the merchandise from getting profit."

On her way out of the spaceport, Padmé passed a variation of the WA droid line. As she passed it, it started speaking.

"Welcome to Nal Hutta! May you enjoy your stay here!"

Padmé stopped dead in her tracks. The droid continued to describe Nal Hutta's attractions, luxurious mud baths, expensive resorts offering the finest spice, and other such frivolities. She left the droid drawling on, and rushed out of the spaceport.

The hustle and bustle of the dilapidated city met her eyes, and she wondered how she was ever going to get off the planet. She might as well have taken her chances with a transport to Coruscant, surely being shot on sight was better than this.

This has got to be some kind of mistake…I can't be here…