Inside the government building on Rendon, Governor Abano Hollinger stood by the window, gazing into the darkness before dawn.
Soon, the sun's rays would illuminate this "Palace of Power," from where all of London's political decisions originated.
Hollinger's government wasn't composed of elected representatives, but rather controlled by the directors of the planet's most powerful corporations.
The populace showed no discontent. They bore no heavy taxes and benefited from the thriving trade and commerce.
As for the impoverished underclass, no one cared about their voices.
London served as the trade and financial hub for the southern half of the Slim Sector, attracting merchants from across the galaxy: Lantillese, Hutt servants, Wookiees, Lanniks, Botaj, Bimm... their figures were ubiquitous in the planet's markets and corporate skyscrapers.
As native Humans, Londoners were renowned for their shrewd business acumen and political savvy. It was these very skills that allowed them to maintain a foothold in this volatile region.
Though its history couldn't match that of Lantilles, London controlled the crucial hyperspace routes to Hutt Space, managing such a vast volume of traffic that it secured a prominent position within the sector.
After war erupted, London became a coveted prize in the struggle between the Republic and the Separatists.
The Separatists sent envoys with generous offers, and the Republic Senate, unwilling to be outdone, dispatched their own delegation.
Hollinger and his colleagues now faced a difficult choice.
Yesterday's political meeting had been marked by intense debate, with the Separatist envoy from Count Dooku in attendance.
"The Republic is far away, weak, and corrupt! It can't protect us!" one director said heatedly. "Joining the Confederacy would give us control over the food supply routes to Hutt Space—unlimited profits! And the Confederacy has promised to give combat equipment and ship orders to our companies!"
"Then we'll align with the Confederacy," Hollinger murmured. "But what about the Republic senators arriving soon?"
"Detain them," another director suggested. "Use them to pressure the Republic for ransom. Many would pay handsomely for Senator Amidala's head."
"Will two battalions of guards be enough?" Hollinger asked, worried.
"More than enough," the Separatist envoy replied. "Count Dooku has promised reinforcements capable of dealing with Jedi. They'll arrive in London today. Until then, just keep an eye on the senators."
Hollinger nodded. The plan seemed flawless.
***
Inside the cockpit of a Corellian interstellar shuttle, Padmé Amidala gazed out at the starry expanse beyond the windshield.
As the daughter of Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie, her political career was nothing short of legendary. She had entered the political arena at the tender age of eleven, studying under the tutelage of Silia Chesson. Upon joining the Naboo Royal Court, she adopted "Amidala" as her regal name, in accordance with tradition, though she reverted to her birth name, Padmé Naberrie, during times of crisis.
Ten years prior, the crisis involving the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo had propelled her name to galactic renown.
After stepping down as Queen of Naboo, she had initially planned to retire, following in her sister Sola's footsteps to start a family. However, Queen Jamillia, her successor, earnestly urged her to accept a seat in the Galactic Senate. Driven by her passion for politics, Padmé ultimately agreed, becoming Naboo's representative in the Galactic Senate.
Due to her overwhelming popularity on Naboo, Padmé was granted privileges typically reserved for elected monarchs, including the exclusive use of a chromium alloy coating on all her starships—a singular honor within the Senate.
Though she would have preferred to remain on Naboo, during her time on Coruscant, Padmé resided in a small apartment on the top floor of the Senate building.
The apartment was simply furnished, far less opulent than the residences of other Senators. Yet its spacious balcony, complete with a private landing platform and adorned with numerous artifacts from Naboo, exuded a warm, homelike atmosphere.
Padmé Amidala sat in the seat of the Corellian interstellar shuttle, her brow furrowed. Count Dooku's secessionist policies and his public accusations of Republic corruption continued to haunt her thoughts.
While she understood some of the Separatists' grievances, she couldn't accept their attempts to dismantle the Republic's governance system, a structure that had endured for thousands of generations.
During her tenure in the Senate, Padmé had forged alliances with many like-minded colleagues, with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma proving to be her most steadfast allies.
Together, they championed proposals aimed at strengthening democracy and fairness, becoming the core opposition force against the "military suppression of separatism."
Padmé remained steadfast in her belief that violence only begets more violence. Even after war erupted, she never abandoned her hope for peaceful negotiations.
Now, she was heading to London. If this negotiation succeeded, it might save thousands of lives and bring a glimmer of relief to the war-torn galaxy.
Yet, she couldn't help but think of Anakin. If he could accompany her on this journey, perhaps they could steal a moment of private time together.
The arena on Geonosis marked a turning point in their relationship.
Facing imminent execution, Anakin confessed his feelings to her, and she couldn't resist his passionate devotion.
After the Battle of Geonosis, Anakin escorted her back to Naboo. In Varykino, where their love had first blossomed, they secretly married under the witness of a priest from the Brotherhood of Knowledge.
From that moment on, she acquired a hidden identity:
Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker.
"It's time to focus on the mission," Padmé said, shaking her head to bring her thoughts back to the present.
At that moment, Bail Organa approached her and said softly, "We've just exited hyperspace, and the escort fleet is waiting for us. The Jedi Knight in charge of security has requested that we transfer to a Consular-class frigate. The flight path will take us through a conflict zone, and they believe this ship offers better protection."
"Let the professionals handle security," Padmé nodded, her voice calm.
Ten minutes later, the Corellian interstellar shuttle landed at Lantilles Spaceport.
Early morning sunlight cast long shadows across the tarmac. On the opposite apron, a Consular-class frigate rested quietly, with two figures in Jedi cloaks standing by the boarding ramp.
"Those must be our escorts," she said.
Padmé straightened her skirt and led the way onto the frigate.
"Senator Amidala, I am Jedi Knight Solo Victor, tasked by the Jedi Council to oversee your security during this mission." Solo stepped forward and gestured to the Togruta beside him. "This is my apprentice, Ahsoka Tano."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Warrior Victor," Padmé said with a smile, nodding. She then introduced her companions one by one. "This is Senator Bail Organa, Senator Wu Fei Chapar-Bao, Representative Laurent Gar Faber, Senator Mora Wol Delgar, Senator Jorus Carl-Delmont, Senator Valan Quadrieks Lavidiyan, and Senator Leo Chuqi... When can we depart?"
"We can take off immediately after everyone boards," Solo replied calmly. "The *Star Falcon* is ready to go. The journey will take approximately four hours."
"Excellent. Time is of the essence." Padmé stepped onto the boarding ramp first, followed closely by the other senators.
Among the group were several "observers" the Senate had insisted on sending. Though Padmé found this irritating, she resolved to use the opportunity to win their support.
***
As soon as Solo and Ahsoka landed at Lantilles Spaceport, they saw a Corellian interstellar shuttle slowly approaching.
The two stood by the boarding ramp of the *Star Falcon*, waiting for the senators to board, with no time to prepare.
"These politicians haven't kept us waiting long," Ahsoka murmured, her gaze falling on the group descending from the shuttle.
Solo's gaze quickly locked onto Padmé. He had seen her during the Battle of Geonosis, but they had never spoken.
In his eyes, Padmé was a complete idealist, her obsession with "democracy and peace" somewhat impractical.
Organa, who followed closely behind, made him feel a strange sense of disgust. That insincere smile and polite words always made him seem less than genuine.
He recognized most of the other senators only from Senate recordings in his memory, though he had never met a few before. Through the memories of his predecessor, "Solo," he could identify their species: Kassian, Human, Sivorian, Chagrian, and Frank.
The delegation was accompanied by a significant entourage: Padmé's two maids, Organa's private secretary, and six ceremonial robots, including the golden robot C-3PO.
The last to disembark from the shuttle was a petite young girl.
She wore resplendent blue and gold attire, her blue skin and pale purple hair strikingly vivid.
When their eyes met, Solo's heart skipped a beat. Those golden eyes seemed to possess a bewitching power that instantly captivated him.
The moment was fleeting, yet to Solo, it stretched into an eternity.
He had never experienced this before—not mere physical desire, but a deeper, inexplicable attraction.
The girl appeared so fragile, instinctively making him want to protect her, to shield her from all danger.
It took great effort to suppress the surging emotions.
*Am I... falling in love?* Solo wondered inwardly.
Until now, he had never seriously considered personal feelings. The pressure of war and the constant threat to survival had left him no room for such thoughts.
But now, everything had changed.
"What kind of joke is this?"
Though he couldn't quite put it into words, the girl carried an inexplicable charm that drew his attention.
Countless thoughts swirled in his mind, tangling into a chaotic mess.
"Master, the Senators have boarded," Ahsoka's voice brought him back to reality.
"Understood." Solo shook his head, clearing the distracting thoughts. "Go reassure the Senators. I'll go to the bridge and notify the crew to depart."
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