This is dedicated to Wraith, as a thank you for his nice comments about "Padme's Perspective." THE REFUGEE CENTER by Joe Doe A STRIP SEARCH STORY FOR STAR WARS FANS, FEATURING A LOST SCENE FROM "ATTACK OF THE CLONES." ****************************** MAIN TITLE SHOT AGAINST SPACE, AS CREDITS SCROLL: STAR WARS EPISODE 2.2 THE REFUGEE CENTER WHILE DISGUISED AS REFUGEES ON THEIR WAY TO NABOO, JEDI KNIGHT ANAKIN SKYWALKER AND SENATOR PADME AMIDALA ARE FORCED TO STOP BRIEFLY AT AN INSTELLAR REFUGEE CENTER FOR REFUELING.... Anakin introduced himself to one of the guards and asked to be taken to the central security office so that he can scout the facility and ensure the senator's safety. Meanwhile, the senator, still in disguise as a lowly refugee, waited with R2D2 and the other female refugees.... As a queen (and now as a member of the Galactic Senate), Padme wasn't used to standing in lines. But she knew that maintaining the guise of an impoverished and powerless refugee was important to her security, and she had agreed to play along with the charade...at least until she reached the safety of her home planet, Naboo. Although she wasn't used to being treated as a commoner, her new persona was not without its advantages. Although the 25-year-old was very pretty, she tended to intimidate most men, and was too busy with her career for the rest. But her current guise allowed her to mix and flirt with the men aboard the ship. Padme basked in the male attention, even when it created disturbances and altercations that Anakin inevitably had to clean up. Anakin's consternation at her flirty ways amused her. She delighted in reminding him that she was an important senator, and, as a Jedi Knight, it was his duty to "pick up" after her. Anakin was furious with her, but she knew there was more to his resentment than mere annoyance. She knew that he was in love with her, and she enjoyed toying with the lovesick Jedi. She teased him about his "dorky hair," and about the way he had to "run, fetch, and jump for Obi Wan." But most of all, she delighted in teasing him about his vow of celibacy. "My poor little virgin!" she would say, sympathetically. "No wonder you're so TENSE and FRUSTRATED all the time. It must be so HARD on you. But I suspect that, when you're alone at night, you...take matters in hand!" It was a joke that never grew old...for her. "My poor little Padawan apprentice!" she would tease. "When you get to be a Jedi, will they finally let you extend your lightsaber all the way? Or will it stay all soft, floppy, and limp?" "Don't underestimate the power of the force," Anakin would say, angrily. "Don't pout, my little Jedi eunuch. You don't want me to have to turn you over my knee, and spank you!" She delighted in watching him blush and squirm through her verbal abuse. She enjoyed watching him silently fume as she shamefully seduced the other men of the ship, and then left him to sort out the resulting mess. Anakin spent most of his time placating frustrated men or their angry wives and girlfriends. Yes, pretending to be a refugee was FUN! As she impatiently waited in line for the local police to begin their processing, Padme looked around for a way to create mischief. She had seen the video cameras all over the processing area, and she'd already asked R2D2 to plug into a computer console to find out if Anakin was in fact in the central security room where all of the video monitors were located. R2D2 had verified that he was indeed watching her, which pleased the young senator. She had seen Anakin surreptitiously appraising her body during the last few days, and she enjoyed the thought of him watching her. Senator Padme decided to remove her elaborate headdress and outer cloak, which left her slender arms bare. She knew the effect her exposed skin would have on her frustrated audience. As she waited in line, she noticed a large table with a seemingly infinite variety of straps attached to the side, and a series of hoses connected to the wall of what appeared to be a large concrete holding area. The hoses and the drains in the floor made it appear that the area was used to clean something. She asked one of her fellow female refugees what the table and hoses were for. "That is the search area for female refugees," her fellow traveler replied. "The guards at these facilities are creeps, and every now and then they catch a female refugee without the proper clearances. They take her to the 'search area' for what they refer to as 'fun,'" she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "What sort of 'fun' do they have?" Padme asked, eyeing the table nervously. "Women without clearance papers are searched," the other woman explained. "First they are frisked...or groped is more like it. Then they're stripped, supposedly to check for contraband. But it's just a free show, if you ask me!" Padme was genuinely shocked. "That's terrible!" She looked at the hoses attached the wall and began to imagine their purpose. "Um...you said that the women are stripped? Exactly how much do they have to take off?" "Everything!" the pretty refugee replied. "They strip those poor women absolutely buck naked, and all the guards get to watch. They record it on disc too, so all the toadies in the control room get to gloat about it." She shivered. "Of course, as if taking off one's clothes in front of a group of perverted guards isn't humiliating enough, then they strap the poor girl to the table. They tie her down spread eagled, and they probe her...everywhere! "Then they let her up and spray her with those," she said, pointing to the hoses attached to the wall. "The woman certainly doesn't want to soap up in front of a dozen lip-smacking guards, but, if she doesn't scrub every crack and crevice, then the guards will 'lend a hand.'" Padme looked at the guards, who were ogling the females in the line and joking among themselves. From their loutish appearance, she had no doubt that everything the refugee was telling her was true. "When they're done with the shower, the prisoner is deloused. The chemicals burn pretty good, because they have to kill any type of bacteria on any creature in the galaxy. I guess you can imagine how much that spray stinks!" Padme's delicate nose wrinkled at the thought of it. "None of the women in this group is in any danger, however," the woman continued. "They were all scanned and their papers verified before they were let on board the ship. As soon as they confirm the information we'll be free to go." "Are you sure they won't search us?" Padme asked. "The only way a woman would be searched is if the ship's computer records got totally fouled up, and that never happens. Much to the guards' disappointment, I'm sure. There is nothing these creeps like better than poking and probing some defenseless woman." Padme thought of Anakin watching her from the control room. As a senator, she was shocked that refugee women could be treated that way, but she had to admit that the thought of parading a butt-naked woman past the tense, sexually frustrated Jedi amused her greatly. And she wouldn't just be naked. From the look of the exam table, the poor woman would be naked and DISPLAYED. When the cruel straps were pulled taut, every inch of her naked flesh would be exposed to the camera's searching eye. She smiled. Anakin Skywalker would be seeing a woman's most secret, delicate areas for the first time. And then, after she was strapped down, helpless and vulnerable, the loathsome guards would use their authority to explore her, inch by inch. Chuckling, she imagined the bug-eyed Anakin staring transfixed at the monitors. "I wonder how he'd explain the stain on the front of his sacred Jedi robe to Obi Wan?" she mused. Of course, she knew that everyone's paperwork was in perfect order. It had been checked three times before they boarded the ship at Coruscant. It was too bad, in a strange way: the thought of Anakin watching an actual strip search was intoxicating. Padme observed one of the humanoid guards looking her over, and she teasingly ran her hand up and down her bare arm and winked at him. She smiled as she noticed the stiffness in his pants. Men were so predictable. As she watched the guard ogle her, she had an idea. A terrible, horrible, wonderful idea! What if she could arrange some way of being searched? Searched...stripped...in front of Anakin...the thrill would be incredible! Padme enjoyed the power games she played with the handmaidens who sometimes assumed her identity for security reasons. She secretly enjoyed being ordered about like a servant, being made to fetch, and carry, and scrape before her "betters." Despite her dominant personality, she also had a strong submissive streak, and the chance to play prisoner was simply too delicious to miss.... But how could it be done? Her paperwork was in perfect order, and soon she would be granted her routine clearance. Padme glanced down at R2D2, the small droid that was accompanying her on her trip home. Perhaps her little mechanical friend could once again prove his usefulness.... R2D2, Padme knew, would have the power to strip her of everything. The loyal little droid could take away her security clearances, erase her medical records, and leave her utterly at the mercy of the horny guards who were now running their eyes up and down her attractive form. R2 could strip her of everything and leave her with nothing but the clothes on her back.... And the guards, she knew, would know what to do with those. Of course, there was always Anakin. He was, after all, her bodyguard, and, as soon as he saw she was trouble, he would undoubtedly come down to rescue her. Or would he? Jedi Knights, as she never tired of reminding him, were professional goody-goodies, but she knew that every man had his limits. Only a few hours before, Anakin had pointedly reminded her that, "I will protect your life, but I am not your servant. The next time you cause trouble, you are on your own." Now she unbuttoned the top buttons on her blouse and smiled at one of the guards, who leered back at her. She chuckled. The guard had something on his mind, but it definitely wasn't assassination. Would Anakin save her? Padme wasn't sure. The intense young man took his vows seriously, but she could tell that he was struggling with his vow of celibacy. She had been teasing him unmercifully, and this "computer glitch" would fulfil his wildest dreams.... At last, he would see mighty Senator Padme Amidala, the former Queen of Naboo, sans title, sans power, and most importantly, sans clothing. Anakin, she knew, would have complete deniability. Although she knew he was watching her on the monitors, he could always claim that he was elsewhere, checking ahead on their security arrangements. It would hardly be his fault; after all, the senator was now surrounded by at least a dozen policemen. On the other hand, as a professional do-gooder, would he really stand by and watch as an innocent woman was stripped absolutely stark naked, for the amusement of a group of horny guards? Could he passively watch them strip away her dignity and tie her to the table for a humiliating and shameful probing? She smiled. It would be an interesting experiment. She had overheard Obi Wan talking about "the conflict" in Anakin, and she wondered which side would win: the Jedi knight, or the horny teenager? Padme leaned over and whispered to her droid, "R2, I want you to go to a computer port that is not monitored by a guard and is not in front of a video monitor, and I want you to...." R2 listened carefully to the instructions, but then swivelled round and round, making strange sounds. "Yes, that's right, R2D2," Padme whispered. "Erase everything!" It was only when she repeated her instructions for a third time that the helpful little droid wandered off to do his duty. Humans were strange, but R2D2 knew better than to argue with Padme. She smiled as the confused droid sneaked off. Without her medical records, she knew, the guards would have to hose her down and delouse her. Of course Anakin would stop the search before that...wouldn't he? As she neared the station, Padme noticed two Gamorian guards, better known as "Pig Guards," armed with axes by the door. The sight was strangely relaxing for the nervous senator. She knew Anakin was furious with her, and she suspected that he might let the humanoid guards strip and perhaps even fondle her a bit before he intervened. But surely he would never let the disgusting pig guards put their paws on her! Padme felt her heart racing as she stood nervously before the guard at the desk. The guard's face broke into an enormous grin as he scanned her identity card and the red light on his console began to blink. "I'm so sorry, miss," he said, unctuously. "But I'm afraid you are going to have to step to the side, so we can search you." "Search me?" Padme said, feigning surprise. "But that's ridiculous. My papers were triple-checked before I left Coruscant." "Be that as it may, we are still going to have to search you," the guard replied. "Step over to the search area, please." She swallowed hard as the guard in the search area motioned for her to raise her arms. She eyed the door nervously, half-expecting her hero, Anakin, to burst through, light saber in hand, to stop this outrage. But the security door remained bolted. The guard slowly, teasingly ran his fingers over her bare arms and then gently massaged her back. She winced as he moved his hands over her shoulders and began to slowly and deliberately fondle her breasts. She noticed that every camera in the security area was now focused entirely on her. Anakin, no doubt, was watching her humiliation from every angle. When the guard began to playfully squeeze her shapely bottom, she tried to squirm away, but a sharp pinch reminded the senator that she was no longer in charge. Padme glanced nervously at the door. Where was Anakin? Why wasn't he coming to rescue her? She bit her lip as the guard's grubby hands slid between her legs. He took his time groping her most delicate areas, and she was sure that Anakin would stop this soon. But she was wrong. The grinning guard stood in front of her and coyly ran his fingers through her dark brown hair. "I'm afraid a more thorough search is required, miss," he said, his voice oozing mock regret. "I'm going to have to ask you to remove your clothes." Padme looked over at the bio-scanner in the corner. In just a few seconds, she knew the device could instantly determine if she were smuggling contraband or if she had any diseases. But what fun would that be? The lecherous guards had decided to bypass the usual mechanical method in favor of subjecting the helpless female refugee to an old-fashioned strip-search. Of course the bio-scan was more reliable, but the leering guards obviously preferred a "hands-on" approach. "If you're shy, the guards can help you...," the supervisor said, as the two pig guards began to approach. Padme quickly kicked off her shoes and socks. She told herself she had nothing to fear. Anakin would never allow this. She slowly slid her pants down to her ankles, deliberately delaying her exposure as much as possible. Anakin would save her, if only she gave him more time. But soon she was standing in front of the guards in nothing but a brief white t-shirt and sheer, almost transparent, underpants. Where was Anakin? She pulled her t-shirt over her head, but quickly covered her breasts. As she noticed the pig guards adjusting the straps on the table, she made her decision. The game had gone far enough. She would reveal her identity to the guards and inform them that she was under the protection of the Jedi Knights. There wasn't a policeman in the galaxy stupid enough to tangle with a Jedi! But, as she prepared to speak, she felt a strange tightness close around her throat, almost as if she were being choked. She could still breathe, but the tightness reduced her attempts to speak to a childish gurgle. As soon as she stopped talking, the tightness eased. But, when she tried to speak again, the unseen hand once more closed around her throat and rendered her unintelligible. "Quit stalling, you little bimbo, and drop your underpants," one of the guards said, gruffly. "We can't wait all day!" As she defensively reached for her underpants, intending to hold them up, she felt an unseen force grab the hem of the tiny sheer garment and WHISK! her panties down to her ankles. She quickly bent down to try and retrieve the traitorous garment, but was forced up by a stinging SLAP! across the tender cheeks of her bare bottom. Padme spun around, but there was no one behind her. Who had spanked her? What was happening? Before she could consider it, two of the guards grabbed her by the wrists and effortlessly pulled her down onto the exam table. It took only a few seconds for the guards to pull her panties the rest of the way off and tighten the straps around her delicate wrists and ankles. The guards busied themselves putting on their rubber gloves, quickly forming a line in front of the exam table. She grimaced to see the grubby, drooling pig guards struggling to fit the thin latex gloves over their chubby digits. Everyone, it seemed, would have a turn between the senator's legs.... Padme looked to her right. During her slow striptease, one of the guards had brought out a large tub of grease and set it next to the exam table. Her eye's widened as she realized that she was staring directly at the greasy lubricant that was going to be used in probing her most secret places.... The naked senator winced as the guards pulled on the straps. She struggled, but it was a losing battle. Slowly her legs began to spread, exposing her to the grinning guards. Above her, she noticed the security camera's probing eye zooming in for a closer look. Never again would she underestimate the power of the Force.... Edited by C. Lakewood