The new offices of the chancellor were a monument to extravagance. Padme walked through the grand entrance, her eyes skimming over marble columns and polished floors that gleamed under the light of enormous chandeliers. The air seemed to hum with opulence, every detail meticulously crafted to showcase power and wealth. Velvet drapes hung long and heavy, and ornate furniture filled the rooms with a decadent style that was almost intimidating in its splendor.
She was ushered into Palpatine's presence with the usual formalities, though his smile seemed particularly warm as he greeted her. "Senator Amidala," he said, gesturing for her to sit. "It's always a pleasure."
"Chancellor," she replied smoothly, taking a seat opposite him. "I hope you haven't been too busy since our last meeting."
"Busy is an understatement," he chuckled. Then his expression shifted, growing serious yet somehow intimate—a confidante about to share a secret. "I’m afraid I must discuss something rather delicate with you."
Padme leaned forward slightly, keeping her demeanor calm and attentive.
"In my position, I hear much that I wish I did not," Palpatine continued, his voice dropping as if someone might overhear. "A sinister figure has acquired some very incriminating information. Information regarding... your special relationship with Anakin Skywalker."
Her breath caught for just a moment, but she steadied herself quickly. "I'm sure any alleged information is being exaggerated," she said, carefully choosing her words. "Anakin and I are longtime friends."
Palpatine nodded slowly, as though in understanding. "Yes, of course," he murmured, though there was a hint of something else in his eyes—a knowing sympathy or perhaps pity. "But you must realize how such rumors could be perceived in these political times... especially since it could mean Anakin’s expulsion from the Jedi Order."
Padme remained composed, even as the implication settled heavily in the air between them.
"I only want what is best for both of you," Palpatine assured her, his tone dripping with sincerity. "To protect you from scandal that could destroy his career—and yours."
She noticed then a slight twitch in his left hand, an unconscious clenching and unclenching of his fist.
"Is there something this figure wants?" Padme asked, her voice edged with tension.
Palpatine hesitated, drawing out the moment as if the words were distasteful to him. "Yes... that you sign the Military Unification Agreement on behalf of Naboo."
She raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "You know very well I would never do that," she countered. "It would effectively cede our sovereignty to the Republic's army. It would leave Naboo defenseless."
He nodded, offering her a look of contrived sympathy. "I fully agree with you, my dear. I'm merely passing on the demands." He paused for effect. "But it's your choice."
Padme watched him closely, her mind racing behind a calm exterior. "Tell him this," she said after a moment. "Meet me, alone, in my Senate pod tonight. I’ll handle this... discreetly."
The Chancellor's eyes met hers and gleamed with something… almost predatory. He smiled and said, "I’m sure you will. I will faithfully relay your message.”
Padme shivered inside, but rose from her seat smoothly, nodding once before turning to leave.
“And Senator,” Palpatine called after her, “Be careful.”
* * *
The Senate chamber was a cavernous void of shadows and silence. Padme sat alone in her pod, adrift among hundreds of others, the empty expanse a testament to the lateness of the hour. She had ordered Captain Typho to keep his distance; she didn’t want him anywhere near this.
She wore a simple kimono, cinched with a single belt. Her fingers brushed against it absently, her mind a tempest beneath her composed exterior.
The sound of a pod approaching broke the stillness. A figure stood there, draped in black robes and gloves, his face obscured by a golden mask. He stepped onto her platform, and when he spoke, his voice was altered, as if emerging from a void.
"Senator Amidala," he intoned, mocking formality.
Padme remained seated on her black chair, acknowledging him with a calm nod. "You know why I asked you here."
The masked figure moved closer. "Your message was clear," he said. "Attempting to negotiate without leverage? Desperate."
She ignored the taunt, studying him closely. Even through the mask's facade, she could sense his satisfaction—the triumph of having her cornered. He clenched and unclenched his fist, betraying an eagerness under his cool exterior.
"I can offer you something far more personal than amendments or votes," she replied, letting her words hang in the air between them.
He laughed softly, as though savoring a private joke. "And what would Senator Skywalker's lover offer me?"
Padme shivered despite herself but met his gaze defiantly.
Her hands moved to the belt at her waist and untied it with a single tug. The kimono fell open; she let it slip from her shoulders and drop to the floor beneath the chair.
She lay back on the black seat completely naked—an offering and a challenge in one—and watched him through eyes that refused to betray anything but resolve.
In answer, he reached down with one hand and pulled out his cock, hard and demanding, and parted open his robes.
The pod's door slid shut behind him as he moved closer.
She closed her eyes as he pushed between her thighs and then gasped as he slowly slid his cock into her, deeper and deeper into the queen's most private sanctum.
Briefly she tried to cover her face with her hands, as if to shield herself from what was happening.
But he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand as he thrust into her with raw force.
His golden mask gleamed in the half-light as he drove into her again and again until she cried out beneath him—a sound torn between pain and something else entirely.
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He released her hands then and stepped back abruptly as he pulled out—he stroked himself quickly—spurting hot white streams across her face like claiming his territory.
She lay sprawled on the chair, her breath coming quick and ragged, cum dripping down onto her chest.
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They stayed like that for several seconds that felt like hours until he spoke once more: “I will destroy the evidence of your relationship. But you will sign the agreement. Consider yourself lucky that I do not ask for more.”
She wiped her face with a cloth from her sleeve. The wetness smeared across her skin, and she sat very still, looking small and lost on the black chair.
"Do we have an understanding?" His metallic voice cut through the silence.
Padme said nothing, her eyes fixed downward.
"I'm glad we were able to work it out," he remarked with cruel satisfaction. He turned, moving toward the door.
"It seems," Padme's voice came suddenly, "that I was right."
He stopped, turning back. "Excuse me?" he said with a sneer in his voice.
"That this was the only way to force you from the shadows." There was a defiance in her gaze as she looked up. "You hate to sully your hands directly. But I suppose this was one offer you couldn't resist."
The man in the golden mask looked at her in silence. "I don't know what you are talking about," he finally replied, though there was a flash of something like doubt beneath his mask.
"I'm only concerned for you, Chancellor," she said smoothly. "Just think of the scandal—blackmailing a senator for sex, having it all caught on video." She nodded toward the camera above them. "And with the incontrovertible biological evidence." Her eyes flicked to the cloth in her hand.
This time he didn't speak.
"So no, Chancellor, I won't be signing the agreement," she continued. "And you will keep your silence, and I mine."
He stared at her through hollow eyes, unreadable. Then a chill laugh permeated the room.
She pulled the kimono over her nakedness.
"I underestimated you, Queen Amidala" he said slowly, looking her over, “for the last time.”
And with that, he left in a sweep of black robes.
Padme dressed quickly once he was gone; her hands shook as she tied her robe back into place. She stepped cautiously back into her pod's controls and piloted away from the empty chamber, each movement an effort against rising panic.
When she reached the landing dock at last, Captain Typho rushed forward with alarm in his eyes. "M'lady?"
"Not here," she snapped more harshly than intended and regained herself in an instant. She forced calm into her voice. "Someone may be watching."
Typho stood down but kept pace beside her as they reached their private transport ship and sealed themselves inside. Only then did Padme let out a breath that felt like she'd been holding for hours.
"What happened?" Typho demanded as they lifted off from Coruscant into starlit space.
She hesitated before answering—a moment's pause that spoke volumes—and then: "We have leverage now." Her words were steady but full of something like triumph bleeding at its edges.
"And will it hold?"
"For now," Padme replied quietly.
Typho frowned in thought as they traveled farther from danger and deeper into night’s embrace. “And Anakin? What will you tell him?”
A long silence stretched between them—before finally Padme just shook her head.
Typho held her gaze, then nodded in understanding.
Padme stared ahead at the stars, steeling herself against breaking down into tears. Not now.
The Chancellor will waste little time before making his next move.
For the sake of her people, and for her and for Anakin, she must be ready for what lies ahead.
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