After a time, I found myself free of the Jedi prison again. I was deep beneath the oceans of Naboo in one of the Gungan's cities.

Did the Jedi truly have difficulty maintaining the force construct that imprisoned me, or did they send me to this place for some inscrutable purpose? Perhaps, time and chance allowed, I'd find a way to escape completely. Maybe I could even find Luke, and convince him to end their games.

I looked about. Everywhere I saw Gungans, slobbering, gnawing on live fish, shaking their heads and spitting, and crawling all over each other. It took me a moment to realize that this was more than the usual feeding frenzy. Though they consumed their strips of colo claw fish with typical abandon, their venom-spiked beverages were raised toward some object of reverence. What was it?

Ah, Padmé's crown. It glittered from within a case of pure crystal. Like the bloody list of names, it shone with essential power of the Force. The Gungans can't sense the Force as I do, but they remember the coronation of the woman who liberated their world.

Padmé was crowned in a grand ceremony, with much pomp and festivity. According to Naboo custom, a new monarch was expected to make a speech upon ascending to the throne, something that would set the tone for their reign. Prior to her speech, Padmé called for the assassin who murdered her father. He was presented to her, chained to a golden cart. Everyone could see that he was well-treated, clean, and shaven.

Padmé began her speech by saying that she found inspiration in her father's legal code and that she intended to follow his example. She then read her father's laws, laws considered among the most enlightened in the galaxy. "All criminals," she read, "even murderers, are to undergo a rigorous psychological program combined with medical treatment. After its completion and their rehabilitation confirmed, they are to be released back into the general populace." She paused. Nute Gunray, who attended by holo projection, greatly applauded the reading of the noble laws.

When the people did not join in, he wailed, "How beautiful are these laws! How terrible that such a great leader was taken from us!" He clapped again, but still the crowd remained silent.

Padmé gestured for the assassin to speak. Weeping as he poured out his feelings, he described his mistreatment as a child, and other such nonsense. He covered his face with his hands, but the Force hid nothing from me. It was not to wipe his eyes that he did this, but to conceal a grin. I believe the assassin hoped to escape to Coruscant and enjoy the sizable fee he doubtless received from the Trade Federation.

When the assassin uncovered his face, his eyes were red-rimmed and wet with fake tears. Padmé smiled graciously and then, with slow movements, shredded her father's code. A confused noise erupted from the crowd, cheers and hisses, wails and clapping of hands. When she had reduced the document to scraps, she drew a blaster and shot the assassin six times. The body jerked in its chains, and one arm flew over the crowd where it was snatched by a Gungan tongue.

"The spirit of my father's law was correct," she announced. "But he lacked true vision. Society is best served by striking fear into the hearts of evil people and by recycling their useless flesh as food."

She then turned to Nute Gunray's holo projection and said, "There are many in the Trade Federation who played a role in my father's assassination. I'd see them treated similarly to this man." She stared at Nute's holographic image until he squirmed.

"Surely," the Viceroy said, his body quivering, "You do not think I had anything to do with your father's murder? I who have been your family's friend and given you gifts?"

Padmé smiled and pulled out the Princess Theed doll which she'd hidden within her robes. She clutched the toy to her cheek. "You have bestowed many fine gifts on Naboo. Thank you for the lovely flowers you sent for my father."

The Viceroy's face brightened. "It is my pleasure, Princess," the Viceroy said with an elaborate bow.

"And now, I wish to return the favor," she said. At her words, her assassins emerged from their hiding places. Padmé had recruited many of the talented killers from among the rebels, including her most deadly and trusted assassin: Jar-Jar Binks. The air sizzled with blaster fire until every Trade Federation representative that was physically present was dead.

"Just as you have murdered my people, so I have murdered yours. Where would you have me send the flowers?"

Nute Gunray sputtered, made incoherent sounds, and vanished.

When the cheering of the jubilant crowd died down, Padmé asked for a sword. She chopped up the bodies and tossed the pieces to the Gungans--except for the fingers. Those she tucked in her pockets. She stood before her people, bloody and beautiful, and declared her planet free.

The crowd erupted into applause once again.

After this incident, the Trade Federation instigated its famous blockade, and the Jedi decided to get involved. Idiots. Tools of a political state. To their credit, however, they discerned who was in the wrong on Naboo.

"Meesa found him," a voice said from the shadows. I turned, startled. For a moment, I thought it was Jar-Jar himself speaking, but it was a spiritual presence instead, a deceased Jedi Master of Gungan descent. I tried to flee, but the mysterious bands of energy which roped me before appeared again.

Obi-Wan appeared next, then Yoda, and finally Ja Vert, the Neimoidian Master of the Force who taught the Jedi the trick of spiritual prisons. Soon I found myself bound in darkness, with nothing but my memories of Padmé once again.

I wondered if Luke ever sought out these memories of his mother or these words which I poured forth into the galactic consciousness in spiritual blood. I hoped that someday he would, that he'd search his feelings, and come to understand his mother as I do. Perhaps then, I thought, even if I perished, someone would remember the real Padmé.