Anakin and Obi Wan ran through the boisterous, gloomy storm, reflective of their mood. If Ventress got a hold of the clone DNA sample, the Separatists could create a clone army along with all of their droids!

Obi Wan glanced over at Anakin, wet hair plastered to his face, breathing hard “I fight Ventress, you guard the DNA sample, okay?”

“No offense Master, but I think that I should do the fighting, and you the guarding.”

They ran into the safety of the building, footsteps slapping the ground and echoing through the bright white halls. Obi Wan went over to a computer console, and started pressing buttons expertly fast. His voice thick with mockery he replied, “Remember the time on Geonosis when you tried to fight Dooku, and got your arm cut off?”

“Yes, yes I remember that,” Anakin replied irritably, “but that was just once, I didn’t make that mistake again.”

Caustically, Obi Wan shot back, “Oh, really? What about that time-”

“Fine,” Anakin sighed blatantly, “if you insist, Master, I’ll guard the DNA sample.” you could hear the eye roll in his tone of voice. Secretly, Anakin planned to join in with fighting Ventress. It wouldn’t hurt right? He would retrieve the DNA sample, hook it on his belt, and then go fight.

“Alright, here it is,” Obi Wan pointed to a spot on the bottom middle of the map,”a right, go straight, and then another right.” He stroked his moustache thoughtfully, “I hope we don’t run into any Kaminoans though. They might think that we came to steal as well.”

“We’ll figure it out, let’s just get going before Ventress gets the DNA sample.” Anakin retorted impatiently.

“I suppose you’re right.” Obi Wan contemplated for a moment more, then turned to face Anakin, “You ready?”

“You bet. Now let’s get going!”

They jogged the way to the DNA sample room, and Obi Wan confronted Ventress, while Anakin sprinted over to the main console.

“You’re a pleasant sight to see.” Ventress shed her lengthy skirt to reveal a pair of shorts much more fit for combat.

“You as well. Pity we can’t spend time talking instead of fighting.” Obi Wan dropped his robe, and ignited his lightsaber, emitting a blue glow around him, almost like an aura of goodness.

“To be honest, I prefer a good battle.” Ventress ignited her lightsabers with a snap-hiss, and the fight began.

Ventress aimed her blood-red lightsabers to cut off Obi Wan’s head in a quick slash. He blocked it in one fluid movement, their lightsabers sizzling loudly on impact, with clashing shades of cyan and crimson.

She clenched her teeth and willed her lightsabers forward with The Force, pushing Obi Wan back. Finally, after valiantly struggling, he was forced to the ground.

“Not so great now, are you, Kenobi?” Ventress sneered, spitting out his name in distaste. She lifted her lightsaber above her head to give him a final stab in the chest.

The ruddy glow clouded Obi Wan’s vision, and for a moment he was unsure what action to take, but then he knew. He somersaulted forward, straight between Ventress’s legs, promptly standing up behind her as soon as the somersault finished. He turned in a roundhouse kick, knocking Ventress to the ground before she could react.

Ventress rolled over onto her back slowly, a pleading expression on her face, as she faked hopelessness. Then she force pushed him against the wall. Obi Wan gasped as the air whooshed out of him, and slumped to the ground.

Ventress quickly stood up and started to sprint over to the wall, her movements feline-like, and lithe, bounding across the room. Just as she was about to reach him, Anakin intercepted, thrusting his foot forward, kicking her in the stomach and then forcing her to the ground. He pinned her down with his foot on her stomach. Anakin raised his lightsaber to deal the final blow, an irate, yet grim, expression on his face, his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Obi Wan lifted his voice weakly, “Anakin, no, don’t kill her. It’s not necessary, it won’t win the war.”

Anakin lowered his lightsaber, and with his teeth clenched, growled, “Fine.” He took his foot off Ventress, folding his arms, “Go, get out of here now, before I change my mind,”

Ventress stood up, and dusted herself off. Suddenly, in one spontaneous, unexpected movement, she raised her lightsaber, aiming for Anakin’s head.

“Anakin NO!” Obi Wan screamed.

Anakin flinched, his eyes closing, and dodged, just barely missing a fatal wound, but the tip of her lightsaber still brushed his face, cutting over his right eye, down to the top of his cheekbone. Then Ventress turned and sped away before he could counterattack. Blood cascaded into his vision, and he turned around, staggering over to the wall. Obi Wan looked up, a hand on his stomach, hunched over.

“Need a hand up?” Anakin smiled as best he could, but it was more like a grimace.

“Yeah,” Obi Wan replied, groaning. He reached up and grabbed hold of Anakin’s hand, and Anakin pulled him up. “You okay?”

Anakin smirked, “yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get going then.”

* * * *

Padmé skimmed over her speech a final time, making sure she had written everything she wanted to. As soon as she finished, she straitened her papers with a satisfying knock on the table, and stood up, stretching. Padmé then changed into her silk shift, and snuggled under her plush covers, longing for warmth.

It ‘s a lot easier to get warm when you have someone close to you, holding you, Padmé thought to herself.

Without Anakin there, she couldn’t help but feel empty, unprotected. Not to mention cold. She knew that it was a feeling she would continue to be plagued with, and that she would have to learn to deal with it. She wasn’t as lucky as some women, whose husbands stayed at home during the war, but at least she had a husband. Especially one like Anakin.

Eventually, Padmé’s mind and body, fatigued from her tireless thoughts, drifted off into a rather restless -and lonely- sleep.

* * * *

Padmé awoke to the jarring sound of her window shattering. She sat bolt upright, and looked around frantically into the vision-clouding darkness. “Hello? Who’s there?” She felt a frigid, withered hand touch her bare shoulder. Padmé gasped, and tried to pull away, but she was stuck in their inescapable, almost unhuman, grip.

There was a faint, raspy whisper in her ear, “come with me, now” the icy metal tip of what must have been a blaster touched her temple, “or else.”

There was a definite pause, “Fine,” Padmé complied, but only because her life was at stake, “but at least answer this question: who are you?”

“That, you will find out … later.”

She vaguely saw a dark fist rushing towards her in the blackness, felt a flash of pain, and then her vision faded away.

* * * *

Padmé’s eyes fluttered open to reveal that she was in a platinum cell, inside what seemed to be a cylindrical glass chamber. She was suspended in midair, hanging by her wrists, her ankles cuffed together and chained to the ground. She struggled, trying to pull her hands out of the cuffs, but it was no use.

Suddenly, a sliver of bright light shone in her eyes, as the door to the cell opened. Padmé was temporarily blinded, due to her inability to block her eyes. When her vision returned, Padmé saw in front of her, a humanoid creature, with morbid green skin, and large, red eyes. His head was topped with some sort of headdress to conceal his lack of hair. His bottom lip downturned in a pout of distaste, he greeted her through the chamber speaker, “Senator Amidala.”

“Viceroy Gunray,” Padmé replied demandingly, “why did you kidnap me? Why did you bring me here? What is your purpose?”, her voice echoed menacingly throughout the room. Padmé lifted her chin, looking down her nose at the Viceroy.

“Oh, you know very well why I kidnapped you.” He turned to the control center by the wall, smiling surreptitiously, and pressed a quick combination of buttons. Then, raising his hand over the last button in the sequence, forefinger poised, he looked over his shoulder at her, “The better question is: what am I going to do to you?”

The next moment went in slow motion, and the suspense was tangible, Padmé’s mind swirled with stormclouds of thoughts about what the Viceroy was going to do. His finger traveled down ever so slowly -it felt like an inch a minute- and on impact Padmé looked up to see a swirling blue mist descending upon her, and she knew her fate was hinged on one event: the jedi finding her.

* * * *