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Padmé has survived assassination attempts, Senate coups, and Anakin’s cooking. None of that prepares her for mobile twins and an unreadable telepath in her doorway.
Padmé woke up because the nursery is quiet.
Not peaceful quiet. Not the rare, blessed quiet of two babies sleeping at the same time.
Wrong quiet.
Her eyes snap open.
The space beside her is empty, though that means little. Anakin is away with the 501st, and he's developed the deeply irritating habit of taking military deployments personally.
The chronometer says it is barely past dawn.
Padmé pushes herself upright and listens.
No babbling.
No toys hitting the floor.
No Leia expressing her political objections to being placed on her back.
Padmé throws off the blankets and crosses the apartment barefoot, tying her robe closed as she goes.
The nursery door is open.
She knows she closed it last night.
Both cribs are empty.
For one stunned second, Padmé simply stands there.
Then every assassination attempt she survived crashes into her mind at once.
The apartment security system hasn't gone off. The windows are sealed. The guards outside have sent no alert, but that means nothing if someone sliced the internal network.
She reaches for the comm unit beside the nursery door.
The apartment doorbell rings.
Padmé freezes.
The security panel identifies the visitor with a clearance level so high that most of the information is hidden behind black classification bars.
HIGH SENTINEL.
The door opens before Padmé can touch the controls.
The High Sentinel stands in the corridor wearing their usual pale robes, armor, and smooth expressionless mask.
Luke sits on one of their forearms.
Leia is tucked against the other.
Both twins are wearing sleep clothes. Luke has somehow lost a sock. Leia’s dark hair sticks up on one side, and her expression suggests she's been unlawfully detained by an inferior government.
Padmé stares.
The High Sentinel stares back, presumably. The mask makes this impossible to confirm.
Leia twists toward Padmé and makes an outraged sound.
“There you are!”
Padmé abandons the comm and hurries forward, taking Leia first. Her daughter immediately grabs the collar of Padmé’s robe and begins delivering a furious report in a language composed entirely of vowels.
Luke remains seated on the Sentinel’s arm, chewing thoughtfully on the corner of a black glove.
Padmé looks from him to the masked figure.
“How did you get into my apartment?”
A voice enters her mind, calm and perfectly clear.
I did not.
Padmé stops.
“You’re holding my children.”
They entered my quarters.
Luke smiles at the Sentinel as if this has been a delightful social visit.
Padmé looks down the corridor.
The Senate apartment reserved for the Amidala family and Nubian Senate Delegation is three secured sections and numerous city blocks away from the Jedi Sentinel quarters. Between them are two blast doors, a turbolift, a guarded junction, and several sidewalks with enough surveillance to track a dust particle.
“You’re saying Luke and Leia crawled into your quarters?”
Yes.
“They can barely crawl across the nursery.”
Leia makes another angry noise.
Padmé adjusts her against one hip. “You can crawl very well. That isn’t the issue.”
Leia does not appear satisfied.
The High Sentinel holds Luke out.
Padmé takes him and checks him rapidly for injuries. No cuts, bruises, burns, or signs of distress. His knees are slightly pink from crawling, and there's grey dust on both hands.
“Where did you find them?”
Inside my meditation chamber.
Padmé blinks. “How?”
That is the question I came to ask you.
The words remain calm, but Padmé detects something beneath them.
Not anger.
Possibly offense.
Nobody is supposed to enter a Sentinel’s quarters. Even senior Jedi treat the area as restricted, and Senate security has no authority there.
Apparently, the twins disagree.
“Did they set off your alarms?”
No.
“Did the door open for them?”
No.
Padmé looks at Luke.
Luke pats her cheek.
“You didn’t climb through a ventilation shaft.”
He laughs.
Padmé’s stomach sinks.
“They climbed through a ventilation shaft.”
The High Sentinel tilts their masked head.
The ventilation system contains 16 security barriers between these apartments and my quarters.
“How many were active?”
All of them.
Leia reaches toward the Sentinel with one small fist and scowls.
Padmé knows that expression. It is the same one Leia uses when a toy refuses to obey her.
“What did she do?”
The Sentinel looks down at Leia.
She struck my mask.
Padmé closes her eyes briefly.
“I’m sorry.”
She did so repeatedly.
“I’m very sorry.”
Leia looks unrepentant.
Luke reaches for the mask too.
The Sentinel takes one precise step backward.
Padmé notices.
A laugh threatens, which is wildly inappropriate when her children have somehow escaped a sealed apartment and invaded the private rooms of one of the most secure beings in the Republic.
She manages to suppress most of it.
“Were they alone when you found them?”
Yes.
“No guards? No droids?”
No.
“Did anyone see them?”
The surveillance recordings show an empty corridor.
Padmé’s amusement vanishes.
“Empty?”
The cameras recorded no movement. The twins appear in my meditation chamber without crossing the visible entrance.
Leia rests her head against Padmé’s shoulder, apparently exhausted by her criminal career.
Padmé looks from her daughter to her son.
She is 98 percent certain neither twin is Force-sensitive.
The remaining two percent has become increasingly loud.
Anakin insists that Force-sensitive children sometimes display unusual abilities early. Obi-Wan claims Anakin himself once levitated a tool because he did not want to stand up.
Padmé has seen no floating toys. No prophetic dreams. No unexplained objects moving across rooms.
There was the incident with the Senate aide’s hairpiece, but Padmé remains convinced the clasp simply failed at an emotionally appropriate moment.
“They can’t teleport,” she says.
I am aware.
“They aren’t Force-sensitive.”
The Sentinel’s mask turns toward Luke.
Luke has wrapped both hands around the gold chain at Padmé’s neck and is attempting to eat it.
Are you certain?
“98 percent.”
The silence inside Padmé’s mind feels judgmental.
She shifts both twins higher against her.
“Their father would know.”
Their father believes most unusual events are evidence of exceptional Force ability.
That is fair.
Anakin had declared Luke a prodigy after Luke threw mashed fruit across the room. The throw involved no Force ability, only a surprisingly powerful arm and excellent aim.
Padmé steps aside.
“Would you come in? I need to check the security system, alert Captain Typho, and possibly seal every ventilation shaft in the apartment.”
The Sentinel does not move.
I would prefer an explanation.
“So would I.”
The smaller one also took an object from my quarters.
Padmé looks at Leia.
Leia looks away.
“Leia.”
Her daughter remains very interested in the wall.
Padmé checks both tiny hands, the folds of her sleep clothes, and the blanket wrapped around her legs.
Something metallic drops onto the floor.
It is a Sentinel access seal.
Padmé stares at it.
The High Sentinel stares at it through the mask.
Leia watches them both with calm satisfaction.
“I’ll return that,” Padmé says.
Thank you.
Luke points at the Sentinel and laughs.
Padmé sighs.
“I’m going to need you to show me the route they supposedly took.”
The High Sentinel bends and retrieves the access seal.
There is no route.
“There has to be.”
That is why I am here, Senator Amidala.
Leia reaches toward the seal.
The High Sentinel closes their hand around it.
Leia’s face crumples with immediate outrage.
Padmé turns toward the apartment before the screaming begins.
“Please come inside. She won’t stop until she forgets it exists.”
How long will that take?
Padmé carries the twins into the apartment.
“Based on current evidence, sometime after she enters the Senate?”