puppets; Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, other misc. Loyalist Senators.
where; From Padmé's place to a conference room in the Senate Building.
what; Discussing matters involving the Loyalist Committee and the Chancellor.
when; Day before the Qui-Gon/Padmé thread, after Sabé's return.
- - - - - - - - - -
For a few days now, ever since her conversation with Obi-Wan upon Sabé's return from her mission, Padmé had been seriously considering inviting the Jedi Master into one of the Loyalist Committee meetings. When she had brought the matter up to Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, it had been Anakin she'd had in mind to bring in for a, as Bail had called it, "Jedi opinion." But now, it was her husband's former Master who seemed like the more logical choice. It was a revelation that frightened and saddened Padmé at the same time, for it meant that there was something that she had to hide from him, something that she had to lie to him about. She didn't like that and hated how she saw flaws in Palpatine and the now modified government around him when Anakin didn't. Anakin's trust in Palpatine's words and actions was almost fearful, if it weren't for Padmé's faith and trust in Anakin himself. If there was anything seriously amiss, surely Anakin would clue into it and back away, taking the objective stance of the Jedi she knew he was capable of being.
The loose ends that were being tied up since the Chancellor's return had kept husband and wife apart for the time being, and while she was content with the fact that he was on Coruscant and no longer on the Outer Rim, she still wished to see him more. Especially in her current state. She was trying to adapt and be happy about this pregnancy, but it was the joy her husband expressed that motivated her to do so. She felt less motivated and more annoyed towards it, when he was absent from her side. But, such was the lives they lead. Lives that she suspected would come to a screeching halt once the truth was revealed.
She'd sent a message to Obi-Wan at the Jedi Temple, requesting that he meet with her to discuss matters. She did not specify what matters, exactly, for she didn't want anyone else to clue into the dangerous topics the Loyalists had been discussing as of late. The mere thought of those topics made her feel sick inside, for she hated going against someone who had played such a big part in her life and political career. And most of all, she hated not being able to share her concerns, her worries, with the one person she wanted to hear her voice.
So, she waited, pacing back and fourth on the balcony that doubled as her private landing deck, feeling too restless at the moment to sit. The air was warm, which only served to make her feel warmer within the confinements of her gown, not to mention the curtain of thick curls cascading down her back and over her shoulders. But at the moment, she didn't feel like being inside. She felt like fresh air, even if the slight breeze did carry with it the hint of smoke from the areas of the great city that were still wounded from the battle above.