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Darcine Kalmida was sitting in her office, her fingers wrapped around a glass of arak, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window to the glittering night sky. The lights of Theed dimmed at night and were reflected downward as to not spoil the natural skyline, and with her office lights low, Darcine had a perfect view of the galaxy. She knew she could not see it with her bare eyes, but she imagined a small spot of sky bare of light – the former Hosnian System.
Maker. The former Hosnian System. Gone in a blink, thanks to this new First Order. And more immediately pressing to Darcine, it heralded the loss of Thadle Berenko, Senator of Naboo to the New Republic.
The public of Naboo was still mourning, but they had taken an emergency vote this morning, and the results were tallied. To almost nobody’s surprise, Darcine Kalmida had won the position in a landslide. She was young, but whip-smart, and had been studying New Republic politics almost all her life. What endeared her to the people was not just her brain, but that she had a frank manner of speaking, while still jovial and friendly. At least, that’s what her assistants had informed her. Darcine was still in shock that she even had this chance – she was only twenty-two, and Thadle had been in power for so many cycles, she figured she would have to negotiate from Naboo for many more years until the older woman stepped down.
Dammit all to sea.
She picked up the glass she held and knocked back half of its contents, not even making a face as it burned fire down her throat and sent a flush across her chest. She needed the fire, to know that she was awake. That this all wasn’t some strange dream.
She’d been having strange dreams lately.
She had been reading up on Padme Amidala, just a study of former persons of import of Naboo – a standard thing Darcine did, choosing a Queen or Senator to review, to see their views, see where the planet had come from. It was always a good gauge as to where it would go, or what not to repeat. That kind of twisted thinking had been hated by most of her peers, but Darcine loved it. So when she first started seeing Padme’s face in her dreams, she dismissed it as reading too late into the night.
But last night she had seen herself, with someone who could be no other than the former, famous Queen, dressed in incredibly odd garments, her hair down casually, working her way around what seemed to be a very basic version of an office? No holos, only flatscreen monitors, and she was using a strange writing apparatus to leave green marks on a matte white surface. The Queen had turned to look at Darcine over her shoulder. “Darce, I told you, go catch a nap. I wanna go out tonight, probably not until midnight. I’ll need you to drive.”
Drive what, Darcine thinks, but in the strange way that dreams sometimes have, she just smiles at the Queen and gives a thumbs up. “You got it, Jane. Leaving now.”
And then the dream had faded into waking, but stayed with Darcine. What did this even mean? Where was that taking place? Who was ‘Jane,’ and why did she look so much like the dead Queen? These kind of thoughts made Darcine’s head hurt, and she already had so much to worry about. She figured if the universe was trying to send her a message, she’d understand eventually. Trust a person who looked like Padme Amidala and obey her orders. Not extraordinarily difficult, if highly unlikely.
Padme had been a believer of the Force, and Darcine was, in her way, a believer also. In her quiet moments, she felt an energy to the world that she liked to make-believe was the Force. This was one of those quiet moments – her ascension to Senate would be announced in the morning, even if the New Republic had not yet chosen a new home for Senate. There was still a need for Senators, for order, for representation. Darcine would go where she was needed, do whatever was possible to help rebuild. Naboo had given her that responsibility, and in turn, their support.
Darcine stood, and sighed, rolling her head from shoulder to shoulder. There was much to do, but for tonight, holos had been authorized, her seal had been placed in the lobby, and measurements for a new wardrobe had been taken. She would wake early and catch the latest reports before making her debut as Senator to the people of Naboo, and she would trust in their faith in her and keep faith with them. This is what she had always wanted, and here it was.
She drank the last swallow of arak and let its warmth race through her veins. She was here, she was awake, and she would not let Naboo or the New Republic go down without a fight.
She had work to do.