The Gala Part 1.2

Velea sat at the controls of the cloaked Chiss stealth ship, hovering above the dock where the Eternal Horizon was. She adjusted the sensor array, her fingers dancing over the console, when the hatch hissed open and Scout climbed aboard, her stealth suit flickering as it recalibrated to the ship's dim interior. Velea glanced over, her voice sharp but laced with relief, "You took your sweet time, Scout. Strap in and get on the sensors. I need to know the second that diagnostic window opens so we can latch onto the maintenance hatch."

Scout slid into the co-pilot's seat, her hands already moving across the console as she activated the sensor suite, "Got it, Velea. Sensors are live, scanning for engine activity." She paused, looking at Velea with a frown, "Have you heard from Jaden? I tried his comm earlier, but he's not responding. Is he okay?"

Velea tapped her comm, her expression tightening as she tried Jaden's channel, only to hear static, "No luck. His signal's either blocked or jammed, probably by the ship's shielding." She switched channels, her voice crisp, "Zule, you copy? Where's Jaden? We need him on the line."

Zule's voice came through, stern and precise, "He is engaged in a critical task, Velea. He did not provide details, but I trust his discretion."

Velea leaned back in her seat, exhaling sharply, her voice dropping to a mutter, "Of course he's off playing mystery man. Why do I always get tangled up with the ones who love their secrets?"

Scout's head snapped up, her tone curious but teasing, "Wait, what was that? You mumbling about Jaden again?"

Velea waved a hand, her cheeks warming slightly as she avoided Scout's gaze, "Nothing, kid. Keep your eyes glued to those sensors and stop eavesdropping."

Scout grinned but refocused, tapping the console as data scrolled across the screen, her voice steady, "Engines are starting to spool up, Velea. Diagnostic window's opening now—looks like we've got a few minutes."

Velea gripped the controls as she piloted the Chiss ship downward, maneuvering through the crowded airspace toward the maintenance hatch on the Eternal Horizon's lower hull, a small, unassuming port surrounded by docking clamps and sensor arrays. She said, "Alright, here we go. Keep me posted on those sensors, Scout." The ship's hull filled the viewport, its riveted durasteel surface gleaming under the dock's floodlights, and Velea adjusted the thrusters, aligning the ship's docking ring with the hatch, her focus absolute.

Scout leaned forward, her voice tight, "We're at fifty meters, Velea. Closing fast. Engine diagnostics are in full swing—window's wide open."

Velea nodded, her voice calm but tense, "Good. Let's make this quick and clean." She fine-tuned the approach, the ship's cloaking field shimmering faintly as it compensated for the dock's ambient radiation, her hands on the controls as she prepared to latch onto the hatch.

The comm crackled, and Jaden's voice burst through, frantic and breathless, "Velea, abort! it'll catch you, even cloaked!"

Velea's eyes widened, and she yanked the controls hard, pulling the ship up at the last second and twisting it into a steep dive, threading between towering dock structures of duracrete and steel that supported landing platforms, her voice sharp, "Jaden, what the kriff was that? That was our window! What's going on?"

Jaden's voice came through, still rushed but clearer, "I found a new security layer in the server room—gravitic sensors calibrated to detect mass distortions from stealth craft by measuring micro-gravitational anomalies, paired with an ionic pulse that scans for foreign objects using a low-frequency electromagnetic wave to map the ship's interior. Both are active during diagnostics. You'd have been lit up like a Life Day parade."

Velea slammed a fist on the console, her voice tight with frustration, "Kriff it all, Jaden. That was our shot! What do we do now?"

Jaden paused, his voice steadying as he caught his breath, "We'll find another way, Velea. Stay cloaked and hold position in the dock's shadow. I'll work out a new plan to get you onboard."

Velea glanced at Scout, who stared at the sensor readouts with wide eyes, her hands frozen on the console, and said, "You'd better move fast, Jaden." She adjusted the ship's position, keeping it hidden among the dock's structural supports, the Eternal Horizon's engines roaring in the distance as the diagnostic window closed, leaving them stranded outside.

...

Jaden stormed down the service corridor of the Eternal Horizon, the stolen Level 3 keycard clenched in his fist. His plan—carefully orchestrated over weeks—had unraveled in under an hour. He hurled the keycard against the wall with a sharp clank, the badge ricocheting behind a crate. "Kriffing hells!" he spat, his voice bouncing off the metal. The diagnostic window had slammed shut, and with it, their chance to get Velea and Scout aboard. The next window wouldn't open until midweek, leaving them just days to pull off a heist that required all four of them. Jaden and Zule alone couldn't do it—Velea's tech expertise and Scout's slicing skills were non-negotiable, he couldn't be everywhere at once.

He paced the corridor, boots thudding, one hand rubbing the back of his head, the other slapping his temple as if he could jolt a solution loose. "Think, Jaden, think," he muttered, his breath ragged. The gravitic sensor net and ionic pulse were a nightmare—Military-grade security designed to sniff out cloaked ships like theirs, it was primitive in the way it worked but rather effective, cloaks hid from sensors but it still existed its mass was still real, and the grid would ping off anything that wasn't already there. Bypassing it meant either disabling the sensors from the server room, risking a full security lockdown, or finding a way to mask the Chiss ship's mass signature, which was borderline impossible without specialized equipment they didn't have. He stopped, leaning against a coolant pipe, its faint hum vibrating through his palm. "Come on, there's gotta be a way," he growled, but his mind churned with dead ends.

Footsteps echoed from around the corner—two workers, talking about a shipment of Alderaanian wine that they had a surplus of. Jaden straightened himself, he couldn't afford to look unhinged, not with security droids patrolling and crew members everywhere. He tapped his comm, keeping his voice quiet. "Velea, Scout, head back to base. We're grounded until the next window. Stay hidden until then."

Velea's voice crackled through. "Copy that, Jaden. Be careful out there."

Scout chimed in, her tone laced with worry. "You okay? Sound like you're about to punch a bulkhead."

Jaden forced a chuckle, though it came out strained. "I'm fine. Just get to safety." He cut the comm and started down the corridor, blending into the flow of workers hauling crates and droids trundling with spare parts. The Eternal Horizon's service levels were a maze of pipes, vents, and holo-signs, but Jaden navigated them with the ease, he'd made sure all four of them had memorised the ships layout long before they went on the ship. He needed to find Zule, fill her in, and figure out where to move from here.

He took a service lift to deck 27, the music of the turbolift doing little to calm his nerves. The doors slid open, revealing a bustling prep area where servers in crisp uniforms adjusted trays of crystal flutes and cooks shouted over sizzling pans, everything on this shop was cooked fresh, nothing was synthesised. Jaden spotted Zule near a stack of crates, her server uniform still tight on her frame, a datapad in her hands. Her posture was rigid, her expression a mix of focus and barely concealed disgust as she scanned her schedule. He approached, dodging a droid rolling past with a cart of pastries, and leaned in close, keeping his voice low. "Zule, we've got a problem."

Her eyes flicked up. "What happened?"

Jaden exhaled, rubbing his neck. "The Chiss ship didn't latch. There's a gravitic sensor net and an ionic pulse—new security I didn't account for. It would've decloaked them the second they got near the hatch. I told Velea and Scout to fall back to base. We're stuck until the midweek window."

Zule's jaw tightened, her fingers pausing on the datapad. "That leaves us three days to complete the operation, and that's if they are able to board during the next window?"

Jaden leaned against a crate, his voice grim. "We stick to our part of the plan. I make contact with Padmé at the reception tonight, get her on board with the kyber crystal situation. Meanwhile, we need to figure out how to get Velea and Scout past those sensors."

Zule's eyes narrowed. "How? You said yourself the security is formidable. What's your solution?"

Jaden shook his head, his frustration spilling over. "I don't know yet, Zule. Right now... it's not looking good. Disabling the sensors could trigger an alert, and masking the ship's signature is a long shot without tech we don't have."

Zule studied him, her voice calm but firm. "You'll find a way, Jaden. You always do. Don't panic, you still have time."

He sighed, her words grounding him despite the knot in his chest. "Yeah, maybe. Thanks for the vote of confidence." He straightened, forcing a half-smile. "Let's both head to our departments and get ready for the reception. We can't afford to slip up now."

Zule nodded, slipping the datapad into her pocket. "Agreed. Stay focused."

They parted ways, Jaden weaving through the prep area toward the crew quarters. His waiter's jacket was back on, the engineer's jumpsuit stashed in a a corner. The corridors grew quieter as he neared the workers' apartments, a series of cramped, utilitarian rooms with thin walls and shared refreshers. He was halfway down a dimly lit hallway when a rough voice cut drawing his attention. "Thought you could duck me, Taren?"

Jaden froze, his instincts kicking in. A burly man stepped from a side passage, his face scarred from cheek to jaw, his eyes hard and glittering with malice. His worker's jumpsuit was stained with grease, and his meaty hands flexed as if itching for a fight. Jaden's mind raced—this was the same man that had been staring at him and Zule outside the ship, he had thought it was nothing but the man was clearly looked at him—or Taren. He kept his expression neutral, adopting Taren's slouch and a lazy grin. "Hey, whoa, didn't see you there. Been a crazy day, you know how it is."

The scarred man's lip curled, his voice low and menacing. "Don't play dumb with me, Vok. You owe me credits—two thousand, plus interest. You've been dodging me for weeks, and now you think you can hide on this ship?" He stepped closer, his bulk filling the hallway, the smell of sweat and machine oil wafting off him.

Jaden raised his hands, keeping his tone light. "Look, I get it, things got messy. I'm working on it, alright? Gala's got me running ragged, but I'll square up soon."

The man's eyes narrowed, his voice rising. "Soon? You said that last month, you slimy little bantha! I want my money, Taren, or I swear I'll drag you to the nearest airlock!" He grabbed Jaden's collar, yanking him forward, his knuckles grazing Jaden's chin. "You think you can screw me over? I'll throw you into the reactor core myself!"

Jaden's pulse spiked, but he kept his cool, channeling a faint touch of the Force to calm the man's rage, just enough to take the edge off. "Hey, easy, I hear you," he said, his voice smooth. "I'm good for it. Just need a little time to sort things out. You'll get your credits, I promise."

The man glared, his grip tightening for a moment before he shoved Jaden back, hard enough to make him stumble against the wall. "You'd better, Vok. I see you again without my money, you're done." He spat on the floor, turned, and stormed off, his boots clanging against the deck.

Jaden exhaled, rubbing his chest where the man's fist had pressed. "Kriff, Taren, you had a pretty shit life," he muttered, shaking his head. The real Taren was probably blowing his credits in some undercity cantina, oblivious to the trouble he'd left behind. Jaden adjusted his jacket and continued down the hallway, his mind already shifting back to the heist. He couldn't afford distractions, not with the clock ticking.

He reached his assigned apartment, a narrow room with a single bunk, a metal desk, and a viewport showing the dock's receding lights as the Eternal Horizon flew over the city. He locked the door, pulled out his wrist terminal, and opened the ship's updated schematic, his eyes scanning the server room's location and the sensor net's control nodes. There had to be a way to bypass the security—maybe a power surge to mask the ship's signature, or a maintenance override to disable the sensors temporarily. He leaned back, rubbing his temples, the weight of the failed plan pressing down. "One step at a time," he told himself. "Get through the reception, make contact with Padmé, and figure out the rest."

He tapped his comm, checking in with Zule. "You in the lounge yet?"

Her voice came through, clipped. "Yes. It's as intolerable as expected. I'm serving drinks and avoiding... advances. Have you devised a plan?"

"Not yet," Jaden admitted. "But I will. Just keep your head down and stick to the script."

Zule paused, then said, "Understood."

___________________________

Collan Eislo barreled through the Eternal Horizon's atrium, his boots scraping the marble, his suit jacket bunching as he shoved past a Twi'lek senator clutching a glass of Corellian brandy. His run-in with Padmé gnawed at him—her sidestepping his advance, her dismissal, and that pulse, that fucking pulse when his hand brushed her arm. It was the Holocron, had to be. He snarled under his breath, "She's got it, the bitch." His voice was a rasp, drowned by the chatter of diplomats and clinking crystal. A protocol droid tilted its head as he stormed past, but he didn't see it, his legs pumping, hands clenched so hard his knuckles cracked.

He hit a private turbolift behind a curtain, slammed his Level 5 keycard on the reader, and stumbled in as the doors slid open. He smashed the button for the executive deck, muttering, "She's trying ti humiliate me, hiding it right in front of me." The lift surged up, then sideways, but he didn't notice, pacing the cramped space, shoes squeaking. "Thinks she can play me, the cunt?" His voice broke, spit flying. He slammed his fist into the wall, pain shooting through his hand, but he didn't care. The lift stopped, and he lurched out, charging down a corridor with gold-trimmed doors, ignoring a droid polishing a viewport.

Collan reached his suite, fumbled his keycard, and kicked the door when it didn't open fast enough. He burst in and wove past a table littered with empty bottles and a holo-projector. He stopped at a hidden panel, slapped his palm on the scanner, and the panel clicked open. He stumbled down a narrow staircase, nearly falling, into a small room crammed with monitors. Screens lined the walls, cycling feeds from the ship's ballrooms, corridors, engine rooms, and crew quarters. He'd paid a slicer a fortune to build this system, wired to the security grid, locked to his clearance alone. He collapsed into a chair, the frame creaking, and hunched over the console, eyes wild, scanning the feeds.

He tapped a key, zooming one screen on Padmé, standing in the atrium with Anakin, Aubrie and her handmaiden Save. She was talking a smile on her face, her hands clasped in front of her like she hadn't just humiliated him. Collan leaned in, breath fogging the screen. "You've got it," he growled. "I felt it, you whore." He rewound the feed to when he'd touched her arm, replaying the moment he felt the pulse—a throb, like the Holocron itself was clawing at him. "It's on you," he said, voice shaking, hands ripping through his hair, tearing strands out. "I felt it screaming for me, you fucking slut!" He shot up, pacing, slamming into a server rack, knocking a cable loose. "You think you can steal it? I've killed for that Holocron, you prissy bitch!" He screamed, kicking the chair, sending it crashing into the wall. "It's mine!" He spun to the screens, searching her for a sign—a bulge in her dress, a nervous glance, anything.

He froze, panting, sweat soaking his collar, and raked his hair back, hands trembling. His reflection in a blank screen showed a man unhinged—eyes bloodshot, tie loose, face slick. He sucked in a breath, collapsing into the chair, his mind groping for clarity. Padmé didn't find the Holocron herself. Someone gave it to her, someone who knew what it was. His thoughts snagged on Jaden, that bastard who'd fucked him over. Collan had no clue where Jaden was, somewhere in the undercity, Darren had seen him in the black market area but the boy wasn't stupid enough to stay there. "Jaden," he spat, fingers drumming the console, erratic and fast. "You're in this, you fucker."

He pulled up an old video, buried in his server's encrypted files. The footage showed a warehouse on Level 1313, crates stacked high, a safe on the floor. Jaden, crawled through a ventilation shaft, a blue-and-black droid strapped to his back. "How far away are we, SD8?" Jaden's voice crackled, annoyed. The droid beeped, and Jaden groaned, "That far? I've been crawling for hours!" SD8 beeped again, sharper, and Jaden muttered, "I'm not slow... stupid droid." A faint zap sounded, Jaden yelping, "Okay, I get it." He dragged himself forward, SD8 signaling after thirty minutes. Jaden grabbed a makeshift fusion cutter, slapped it when it flickered, and cut a circle in the vent, the metal glowing red. He pushed it up, squeezed out, and smirked, whispering, "Good job, SD. Right where we planned." SD8 climbed onto his back, and they dropped into a lavish room—exotic rugs, high-tech furniture, a painting on the wall.

Jaden plugged a wire from his wrist into the owner's computer, running a descrambler. He spun in a chair, telling SD8 to scan for valuables. The droid's beam locked on something behind the painting. Jaden tossed the artwork aside, revealing a VX-4700 safe. "Cheapskate," he said, knocking on it, then placing a sparking device to melt the lock. The safe swung open, and he stuffed credits into his pack, stopping when he saw a blue glow. He pulled out a polyhedral Holocron, grinning. "A Holocron! Bet these sell like crazy!" SD8 beeped excitedly. An alarm blared, and Jaden cursed, typing fast at the console. "Personal overseer," he muttered, hands blurring as he outmaneuvered the droid's security layers.

Banging shook the door, and Jaden smirked when his decryption finished, yanking the wire. A thermal detonator blew the door open, and six Raptor gang members stormed in—three humans, two Trandoshans, and a 2.2-meter Houk. The Houk barked in his language, and the others searched the room. Jaden, behind a chair, rolled a device into the open, covering his ears. It flashed, blinding the gang. He sprinted for the door, but the Houk grabbed his neck, snarling, and threw him into a wall. Jaden gasped, vision blurring, and dodged as the Houk charged, tossing a shock device that did nothing. He fired his blaster, staggering the Houk, but an energy shield blocked the rest. The Houk slammed him with the shield, sending him through a window. Jaden shot a grapple hook, piercing the Houk's arm, but the Houk ripped it out and dropped him, smiling.

Collan's hands shook, his teeth grinding. "You stole it," he whispered, staring at Jaden's smirk. "Took my future, and now she's got it?" He smashed the console, the screen shattering, glass cutting his hand, the video frying. "You fucker!" He grabbed a datapad, threw it at the wall, and it exploded, shards scattering. Blood dripped from his hand, but he didn't notice. He hit his comm and screamed, "Tech droid to my suite, now! Screen's broken, move!"

A voice stammered, "Yes, sir, on it."

Collan slumped back, fingers tapping, mind spiraling. Jaden was behind this, even if he wasn't here. Padmé was his tool, carrying the Holocron, maybe clueless about its power. He'd get it back. He'd tear her suite apart tonight, while she was at the banquet, charming the elite. He'd rip through her bags, shred her dresses, scan every corner. "You're fucked, Amidala," he muttered, watching her on the feed, stepping into an elevator. "I'll gut your room while you play senator." He'd use his Level 5 access to bypass her lock, and bring a scanner for the Holocron's signature. If it wasn't there, he'd wait for the midweek banquet, when his Mandalorian contact would attack the ship—blasters, chaos, perfect cover. He'd corner Padmé, pin her down, and rip the Holocron off her. "Think you can hide it, you stuck-up cunt?" he sneered. "I'll strip you bare if I have to, you prissy whore."

He lurched to a safe behind a holo-painting of Coruscant's skyline, punched in the code, and yanked it open. He grabbed a smaller Holocron, its runes worn, and clutched it, nails digging in. He'd bought it in the Outer Rim, but it was weak, a tease compared to the one Jaden stole. He whispered, "Soon, I'll have all three. I'll be Stronger than any Jedi or Sith." He shoved it back, slammed the safe, and turned to the monitors, eyes locked on Padmé's feed. She stood in the elevator, unaware. Collan grinned, unhinged. "Smile now, but I'm coming."

___________________________

Padmé stood naked in her suite on the Eternal Horizon, the plush carpet soft under her feet, her curvy figure and soft skin catching the glow of the overhead lights. Her large breasts swayed slightly as she turned, her smooth-shaven skin glistening from a recent shower, her generous hips and round backside accentuating her hourglass shape. Beside her, Aubrie, slender and lithe, shifted awkwardly, her small breasts barely moving, a faint patch of pubic fuzz visible as she crossed her arms, trying to cover herself. Sabe, standing between them, had a balanced figure—neither as curvy as Padmé nor as slight as Aubrie, her toned limbs and modest curves moving with purpose as she sorted through a rack of dresses. The air was warm, filled with the scent of jasmine from a nearby diffuser, and the three women spoke, their laughter echoing in the spacious room.

Sabe held up a shimmering silver gown, its fabric catching the light like liquid metal, and approached Padmé. "This one's perfect for you," she said, kneeling to help Padmé step into it. The dress slid up Padmé's legs, hugging her thighs and accentuating her curves as Sabe pulled it over her hips. Padmé sighed, adjusting her stance as Sabe tugged the bodice into place, the fabric straining slightly over her breasts. "I wish I could skip this gala," Padmé said, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "Just once, I'd love to relax, not parade around at every banquet and party, smiling for people I hate."

Sabe stood, smoothing the dress's seams. "You know why you can't," she said. "You're not just a guest here, Padmé. Your presence keeps the Naboo delegation's influence strong, and with the war dragging on, every conversation at these events is a chance to push for peace or sway a senator. You're playing the long game."

Aubrie, still naked, struggled to step into a deep emerald dress, the fabric catching on her hips. "I don't know how you do it, Padmé," she said, her voice muffled as she wrestled with the gown. "Just getting into one of these dresses feels like a battle. They're so tight, I can barely breathe!"

Padmé chuckled, the silver gown now clinging to her like a second skin, highlighting every curve. "You get used to it," she said, turning to admire herself in a full-length mirror. "Besides, I do like some of these dresses. This one's not bad." She ran her hands over her hips, the fabric shimmering under her touch.

Sabe grinned, stepping back to appraise her. "Not bad? You look like you could stop a starship in its tracks, Padmé. That dress is doing you favors." She turned to Aubrie, who was still tangled in her gown, the fabric bunched around her waist. "Hold still, Aubrie, you're making this harder than it needs to be." Sabe knelt, gently pulling the dress up, her fingers working to adjust the straps over Aubrie's narrow shoulders.

As Sabe worked, Padmé leaned against the mirror, her tone casual. "So, Sabe, how are you and Anakin doing? Things going well?"

Sabe froze, her hands pausing on Aubrie's dress, her eyes widening. "Padmé!" she hissed, glancing at Aubrie, who looked up, startled. "You can't just say that!"

Padmé waved a hand, unperturbed. "Relax, Sabe. Aubrie already knows."

Sabe's jaw dropped, her gaze darting to Aubrie. "How?"

Aubrie blushed, her cheeks flushing pink against her pale skin, still half-trapped in the dress. "I... caught you two a few weeks ago," she said, her voice soft. "At Padmé's apartment. Anakin was there, and, well, it was obvious, especially when he kissed you."

Sabe's eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Aubrie shrugged, her blush deepening. "It wasn't my place. You both looked happy, and I didn't want to mess that up for either of you."

Sabe's expression softened, her eyes glistening. She stood, still naked, and pulled Aubrie into a tight hug, their bare skin pressing together. "Oh, Aubrie," she said, her voice thick. Aubrie stiffened, her face turning crimson, her arms pinned awkwardly at her sides. Padmé giggled, covering her mouth. "Sabe, let the poor girl go! You're embarrassing her."

Sabe laughed, releasing Aubrie but keeping a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry, sorry! I'm just... I'm glad I have another friend I can talk to about this." She wiped her eyes, smiling. "It means a lot."

Aubrie, still flushed, adjusted her half-on dress. "Is Padmé the only one who knows?"

Sabe nodded, her expression turning serious. "Yeah. It's too risky otherwise. Anakin's in the Jedi Order, and if they found out he's married, they could force us apart, maybe even kick him out. We can't take that chance."

Aubrie frowned she didn't think that was true at all, a flicker of anger crossing her face. She remembered Jabiim, how Anakin had been pulled out just before the final battle, deemed too important to lose, while she and others were left to face the slaughter. The memory stung, but she took a breath, calming herself. It wasn't Anakin's fault—she was angry because of everyone they lost, not him. "I don't think they'd kick him out," she said, her voice steady. "He's too valuable to the Jedi and the Republic. But I get why you're careful."

Sabe hugged her again, gentler this time, her excitement bubbling over. "Having another friend to talk to about this is amazing, Aubrie. I've been so paranoid, and now I feel like I can breathe a little."

Padmé raised a hand, smiling. "Easy, Sabe, don't overwhelm her. She's already fighting that dress."

Aubrie laughed, the emerald gown still stuck around her waist, her slender frame twisting as she tried to pull it up. "I'll be your friend, Sabe, but only if you help me with this thing. It's winning."

Sabe giggled, kneeling to tug the dress into place, carefully adjusting the fabric over Aubrie's slim hips and small breasts. "Hold still, you're almost there." She worked quickly, smoothing the gown until it hugged Aubrie's frame, the emerald color striking against her pale skin. Sabe stepped back, grabbing her own dress—a sapphire blue number with a plunging neckline—and slipped into it, the fabric gliding over her toned body. She turned to the mirror, then looked at Padmé and Aubrie. "You two look stunning. Absolutely beautiful."

Aubrie glanced at herself in the mirror, the tight dress accentuating her slender form. "I feel... weird," she said, tugging at the hem. "Like I'm someone else."

Sabe shook her head, grinning. "You look amazing, Aubrie. Doesn't she, SD8?" She nodded at the small droid on a nearby table, its blue-and-black frame gleaming. SD8 swiveled its body, beeping affirmatively, its lenses scanning them.

A chime sounded at the door, and Sabe, now fully dressed, crossed the room to answer it. Anakin stepped inside, his Jedi robes slightly rumpled, his eyes lighting up as he saw Sabe. "You look beautiful," he said, then froze as he noticed Aubrie and Padmé, his face flushing. "I mean, uh, all of you! You all look great!" He rubbed his neck, trying to play it off.

Sabe giggled, pressed the panel to shut the door, and kissed him, her hands cupping his face. Anakin kissed her back, then pulled away, his eyes wide, darting to Aubrie. "Wait, what—Sabe, she's right there!"

Sabe smirked. "She knows, Anakin."

He blinked. "How?"

Aubrie smiled, her blush returning. "I saw you two at Padmé's apartment a few weeks ago. It was pretty obvious."

Anakin's jaw tightened. "You won't tell, will you?"

Aubrie shook her head. "No do not fear. I'm not exactly on great terms with the Jedi Council myself." She grinned, and Anakin snorted, relaxing slightly.

Padmé stepped forward, her silver gown shimmering. "Anakin, you ready for the reception?"

He nodded, tugging at his robes. "Yeah, but I couldn't stomach the fancy stuff they sent. Those tunics looked like they'd choke me."

Padmé smiled at Sabe. "If you want a moment with Anakin, I can handle the rest of our dressing. Go on."

Sabe hesitated. "You sure?"

"Go!" Padmé said, laughing.

Sabe beamed, grabbing Anakin's hand. "Thanks, Padmé." They slipped out, the door hissing shut.

Aubrie smiled, adjusting her dress. "It's nice to see them so happy."

Padmé nodded, sitting at a vanity to apply her makeup. "It is." She dabbed foundation on her cheeks, then glanced at Aubrie. "So, now that you're free from the Jedi Temple's rules, any plans to explore romance?"

Aubrie sat beside SD8, who beeped softly, making her smile. "No, I don't think so."

Padmé raised an eyebrow, blending eyeshadow. "Really? You might fool others, but not me."

Aubrie's smile faltered, her brow furrowing cutely. "What do you mean?"

Padmé finished her makeup, turned, and leaned forward. "I thought you'd make a move with Jaden after leaving the Jedi. You both stayed at my apartment, had the perfect chance, but nothing happened."

Aubrie's eyes widened, and she laughed nervously. "Jaden? No, no, we're just friends. I mean... not even friends, he's my Master and that's really all there is..."

Padmé smirked. "Aubrie, I spend my days in the Senate. I'd be a terrible senator if I couldn't spot a lie. And that? That sounded like it was your first ever attempt at one."

Aubrie sighed, slumping in the chair. "I'm not good at it, am I?" She paused, then said, "Okay, fine. I do feel something for Jaden. Strongly. But I don't know where to start, and now he's gone, vanished into the undercity. Even if I wanted to, I can't do anything."

Padmé softened, setting down her makeup brush. "He'll come back, Aubrie. Jaden's alive, and wherever he is, there's a reason. He's too stubborn to disappear for good."

Aubrie smiled, nodding. "You're right. He'll be back."

"And when he is," Padmé said, standing and ushering Aubrie to the vanity, "we'll work on getting you two together. First, we need to fix your hair. Men notice hair first, then your face, and you've got a gorgeous face to work with." She began brushing Aubrie's hair, pinning it into an elegant updo, then applied subtle makeup—soft eyeliner, a touch of blush, and glossy lipstick. The transformation was striking, Aubrie's delicate features now radiant.

Aubrie stared in the mirror, eyes wide. "I don't recognize myself."

Padmé grinned. "I hope that's a good thing."

Aubrie hesitated. "Padmé, do you... have experience with this? Like, what should I say to Jaden when I see him?"

Padmé blushed faintly but covered it with a quick smile. "Oh, plenty. When you see him, lean in close, bat your eyes, and say something bold like, Jaden, I've been dreaming of you since Jabiim."

Aubrie blinked, then burst out laughing. "That's... awful advice!"

Padmé laughed too, waving a hand. "Alright, enough of that. We need to go, or we'll miss the reception." She adjusted her gown, checking her reflection one last time.

Aubrie nodded, standing, her emerald dress now perfect. They left the suite, joining Anakin and Sabe in the corridor, where Sabe was whispering something to Anakin, making him grin. The four headed toward the reception.

...

Padmé, Aubrie, Sabe, and Anakin stepped out of the turbolift into the Eternal Horizon's grand atrium, the heart of the welcome reception. The huge space was almost unbearably loud with hundreds of guests—senators, corporate tycoons, and diplomats—mingling under Illumi crystal chandeliers that cast fractured light across Rodakan marble floors. A central fountain sprayed water in hypnotic patterns, and servers weaved through the crowd, balancing trays of sparkling drinks and tons of food. Live music from a Bith orchestra filled the air, blending with laughter and murmured deals. Padmé's silver gown clung to her curves, drawing eyes as she moved. Aubrie, in her emerald dress, looked equally as radiant, the fabric accentuating her slender frame, her updo and subtle makeup making her delicate features striking. She clung close to Padmé, her eyes widening as she noticed numerous men staring in their direction, unaccustomed to the attention.

Barely a few seconds after they entered, a Corellian senator, his tunic adorned with gold braiding, approached Padmé, his smile wide, though it didn't make him look flattering. "Lady Amidala," he said, bowing slightly, his eyes lingering on her neckline. "You look exquisite tonight. Might I steal a moment to discuss the trade embargo on Ryloth? Your insight would be... invaluable." His tone was smooth, his gaze too warm, hinting at a want beyong his words.

Padmé smiled tightly, her diplomatic mask in place. "Senator Varn, how kind. I'd be happy to discuss it later, perhaps during tomorrow's trade session?" She sidestepped his advance, gesturing to Aubrie. "Have you met Aubrie Wyn? She's joining us from Coruscant and was until recently a member of the Jedi Order."

Varn's eyes flicked to Aubrie, and his smile widened. "A pleasure, Miss Wyn. That dress is stunning—you must tell me where yougot it." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Perhaps over a drink? I'd love to hear about what you do."

Aubrie flushed, her hands twisting the fabric of her gown. "Oh, um, it's just a dress," she said, her voice faltering. "I'm not really... I don't know much about fashion." She glanced at Padmé, desperate for rescue.

Before Padmé could intervene, a Mon Calamari executive, his webbed hands clutching a glass, joined them. "Miss Wyn, you're a vision," he said, his bulbous eyes fixed on her. "I'm with Kuat Drive Yards. We're hosting a private tour of our shipyards next week—would you care to join me? I'd ensure you're well taken care of." His tone was professional, but his stare lingered, making Aubrie shift uncomfortably.

"I, uh, I'm not sure," Aubrie stammered, her cheeks burning. "I have... plans." She stepped closer to Padmé, her body tensing as more eyes turned her way. A young Alderaanian aide approached, offering a glass and a too-familiar smile. "You must be new to these events," he said, leaning in. "I'd be happy to show you around the ship later. The observation deck is... intimate at night."

Aubrie's smile froze, her voice barely a whisper. "That's kind, but I'm fine, really." The men circled closer, their compliments piling up, each laced with subtle intent—offers of private meetings, exclusive tours, or vague promises of influence. Aubrie's hands shook, her inexperience with such attention leaving her overwhelmed, her emerald dress suddenly feeling like a spotlight.

Padmé, sensing her distress, slipped an arm through Aubrie's and turned to the group. "Gentlemen, thank you for your warm welcomes, but we're expected elsewhere. Enjoy the reception." Her tone was firm, and she guided Aubrie away, weaving through the crowd toward a quieter corner near a bar. The men dispersed, though their eyes followed, drawn to Padmé's incredible body and Aubrie's delicate beauty.

At the bar, Padmé exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Aubrie leaned against the counter, her face flushed. "This is the worst thing I've ever been to," she said, her voice low. "They're like... vultures. I don't know how you handle it."

Padmé chuckled, her eyes scanning the room. "This one's tame compared to some I've attended. At least no one's proposed a marriage alliance yet." She caught the eye of a server—a wiry man with a waiter's jacket, he looked at her like he recognised her, something she found strange. He approached "Drinks, ladies?" He said, offering two glasses of luminous blue wine. Padmé took them, nodding thanks, and handed one to Aubrie. "Drink this. It'll help."

Aubrie sipped the wine, her face scrunching up cutely, her nose wrinkling. "Ugh, it's like drinking a battery," she said, setting the glass down.

Padmé laughed, sipping her own. "You'll survive. I'm going to mingle some more—duty calls. Stay here, and don't let them swarm you again. Just think of them like battle droids." She squeezed Aubrie's arm and glided back into the crowd, her silver gown catching the light as senators and aides vied for her attention, their flattery a mix of political maneuvering and barely veiled desire.

Aubrie stayed by the bar, clutching her glass, her eyes darting nervously. She felt a rustle against her leg and glanced down, whispering, "SD8, stop moving so much. Stay still." A soft beep came from under her dress, where the small droid was hidden beneath the fabric. She adjusted her stance, trying to keep it discreet. Men continued to approach—a Rodian banker offering a "private financial consultation," a human lobbyist suggesting a late-night sabacc game. Aubrie deflected each with polite excuses, her voice strained, her body tensing under the relentless attention. She sipped the wine again, grimacing, and muttered, "Never again."

The music paused, and a spotlight hit the stage at the atrium's center. Collan Eislo appeared, his suit crisp, his smile too wide, accompanied by an older man with graying hair. The crowd hushed, and the older man stepped to a holo-mic, his voice booming. "I'm Rolan Eislo, founder of Aratech Industries. Welcome aboard the Eternal Horizon."

Aubrie tilted her head, thinking, Is that Collan's father? The resemblance was clear—same sharp jaw, same colour eyes.

Rolan continued, his tone warm. "This ship is more than a vessel; it's a vision of progress, a bridge to a brighter future. In a galaxy fractured by war and division, you—leaders, visionaries, decision-makers—shape what lies ahead. The Eternal Horizon is your sanctuary, a place to forge unity, to build alliances, to dream of a stronger Republic. Let this gala be a step toward that hope." The crowd erupted in applause, glasses raised in agreement.

Rolan smiled, raising a hand. "After this reception, every service aboard—spas, casinos, cultural exhibits, private lounges—will be open for your enjoyment. Indulge, connect, and make this journey unforgettable." The crowd clapped louder, cheers mixing with the music as it resumed.

He stepped back, saying, "Enjoy yourselves," and left the stage with Collan. Aubrie's eyes followed them, catching Collan's gaze lingering on Padmé, who was deep in conversation with a group of senators. His stare was intense, almost predatory, and Aubrie shivered, her instincts prickling. She glanced at SD8's faint outline under her dress, whispering, "Stay quiet, okay?" Another soft beep answered, and she straightened, steeling herself against the next wave of admirers, her emerald gown still drawing every eye in the room.

...

Jaden moved through the Eternal Horizons grand atrium earlier, holding a tray of glowing blue wine glasses. The reception was packed with senators, tycoons, and diplomats, their laughter annoying as they stuffed themselves with fancy food—shiny rare Coruscanti eel, spicy nerf skewers, and fruit carved into weird shapes. Jaden's gut twisted. 'These people pig out while planets are dying,' he thought, slipping past a Rodian banker who grabbed a glass without looking. 'War's ripping everything apart, and they're here, licking grease off their chins.' He forced a blank smile, nodding at a guest, but his eyes searched the crowd for Padmé.

He dodged a Twi'lek aide snatching a pile of pastries, even throwing one at a serving droid that she had bumped into. 'Coruscant's starving, and they're tossing food at droids for kicks,' he thought, gripping the tray tighter. A senator bumped him, spilling wine, and grumbled, "Watch yourself, server." Jaden swallowed a comeback, his jaw tight. 'Focus. Find her.' He weaved through a group of corporate suits babbling about profits, then spotted Padmé across the atrium, her silver dress hugging her full curves, even from here he could tell she was exhausted. Next to her was Aubrie, her emerald dress fitting her slim body perfectly, her face glowing under the chandeliers.

Jaden stopped, his breath stuck. Padmé looked incredible, her curves popping in that dress, but Aubrie—her soft face, the way the dress showed off her thin frame, the nervous way she fiddled with her hair—made his heart race. 'Damn, they're gorgeous,' he thought, his pulse hammering. He stood there, tray forgotten, until a rough voice cut in. "Keep dreaming, kid," a fat senator next to him said, his tunic tight over his belly. "They're way out of your league." The guy smirked, sipping his drink, eyeing Padmé and Aubrie like they were like the meat he licked off his fingers.

Jaden's fist balled, wanting to smash the senator's smug face. 'Cool it,' he told himself, ignoring the jerk and pushing through the crowd toward Padmé and Aubrie. His chest hurt as he got closer, Aubrie's shy smile hitting him hard. 'Didn't know I missed her this much,' he thought. He reached them, holding out the tray, his voice steady despite his pounding heart. "Drinks, ladies?" Padmé took two glasses, nodding thanks, and Aubrie's eyes flicked to him, not knowing it was him. He hung back, melting into the crowd, waiting for Padmé to be alone.

The music cut off, and a spotlight hit the stage. Rolan Eislo, gray-haired and in charge, stepped up with Collan beside him. Jaden leaned against a pillar, tray down, watching as Rolan spoke into a holo-mic. "I'm Rolan Eislo, founder of Aratech Industries," he said, his voice filling the quiet room. "The Eternal Horizon isn't just a ship. It's a step forward, a place where you—leaders—can build a better tomorrow. War and chaos are breaking the galaxy, but here, we make connections, form alliances, and work for a stronger Republic. Let this trip spark the unity we need." The crowd clapped, eating up his smooth speech, and Jaden's mouth twitched. 'Nice words, but it's all about credits and power.'

Rolan raised a hand, smiling. "After this reception, every service—spas, casinos, lounges, exhibits—is open for you. Make this journey one to remember." Louder claps followed, and he stepped back, saying, "Enjoy your evening," before leaving with Collan. Jaden's eyes found Padmé, now alone by a fountain, her group scattered. 'Time to move,' he thought, ditching his tray on a droid's cart and heading her way.

He walked up, playing the waiter. "Lady Amidala, you look amazing tonight," he said, keeping his voice polite. He took her hand, kissed it softly, and slipped a folded note into her palm, his fingers brushing hers. "Have a great evening," he said, then turned, moving fast to a storage room he'd cleared earlier, its lock busted and cameras looped. The note said: *I know where Jaden is. Meet me in storage room 17-C, deck 12. Burn this.* He knew Padmé might blow it off, but her loyalty to her friends made it likely she'd show.

Jaden reached the storage room, a dim space full of crates and stacked linens, and checked his wrist terminal. 'Ten minutes, tops,' he thought, pacing. His bet paid off when the door slid open, and Padmé walked in, her silver dress catching the faint light, her face annoyed. "Seriously?" she said, arms crossed. "Saying you know where Jaden is? That's a cheap trick, even for a waiter trying to—"

Jaden hit his belt, switching off the holographic disguise. Taren's face vanished, showing his own. Padmé gasped, hand to her mouth, and ran to him, hugging him tight, her arms around his neck. "Jaden!" she said, stepping back, eyes blazing. "You vanished after the temple attack! We were terrified—me, Aubrie, all of us! What happened? Where'd you go?"

Jaden smiled, scratching his neck. "Sorry, Padmé. Long story, but to cut it short the void brand's gone, and I'm good now. Took some time, but I'm here."

Padmé's face lit up, her shoulders relaxing. "I'm so happy you're okay." She frowned. "But why are you sneaking around as a waiter? I could've gotten you an invite if you'd come back."

He laughed, leaning on a crate. "Would've been simpler. I'm here because I think Collan Eislo's behind it all—the attack outside the temple when I got to Coruscant, the temple raid, even the attack on you during the pre-trial. He's the one calling the shots."

Padmé's eyes went wide, and she shook her head. "Collan? Jaden, no way. He's a slimy businessman, a total politician, but pulling off attacks like that? I don't buy it."

Jaden's voice got sharp. "I ran into a mercenary in the undercity, hired to take me out. He was pissed and accidentally spilled that Collan was his boss. It's him, Padmé."

She stared, hands falling to her sides. "I can't believe he'd do that," she said softly. "But I trust you, Jaden. You wouldn't lie about this." She took a breath, steadying herself. "What's your plan here?"

Jaden crossed his arms. "I'm digging up proof of Collan's crimes—hard evidence to bury him. And I'm here to steal something. A big kyber crystal. Velea and I have been working on a new space travel system for months, and it's the last piece."

Padmé gave him a look. "Stealing, Jaden? Come on." She sighed, a small smile creeping in. "But if it's Collan's, I guess I can let it slide."

He grinned. "Appreciate it. I need your help, though."

"Whatever you need," she said, stepping closer.

"I need your suite as a base," he said. "It's in a good spot, and the workers' quarters get checked daily by supervisors."

Padmé nodded. "Of course."

Jaden hugged her, and she leaned into him, her head against his chest for a moment. When she pulled back, she looked serious. "You have to talk to Aubrie, Jaden. She deserves to know you're here more than anyone."

He swallowed, nodding. "I will. And it's not just me—Zule, Scout, and Velea are in on this. Scout and Velea aren't on the ship yet, but they're close."

Padmé smacked his shoulder. "You let us worry about them too? Scout and Zule just dropped off the map, Jaden! You could've had them send a holo to say they're okay."

"Sorry," he said, flinching. "My bad."

She sighed, pulling her keycard from a pocket in her dress. "Take this for the suite."

Jaden shook his head. "Don't need it. My keycard can get in."

Padmé tucked it away, nodding. "Alright. Head to the suite. I'll bring the others, and you can lay out your plan."

Jaden smiled. "Thanks, Padmé." She grabbed his arm as he turned, her voice soft. "Good to see you."

He flicked on his disguise, Taren's face snapping back, and slipped out, the door closing behind him.

(AN: going back to ordinary postings once a week now, I have to maintain this lead I have otherwise I'll end up behind constantly. Anywho hope you enjoyed the chapter and hope you're excited for our boy Jaden to lose his V card woooooooooo. Anyway cya)

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