To Die for the Republic

Part II: In Which Sabé is Alive

Chapter 3: Handmaidens

Yawning, I stumbled around the small table, refilling everyone's caf as I went and vaguely wondering why I'd felt the need to circle the caf table in the first place. We were all seated on the two sofas that faced each other across the table. No one's caf cup was very far away from my seat. I probably could have poured the caf just as well from my spot on the sofa.

Not that it mattered. If I was seriously pondering the best way to pour cups of caf, it was too late at night for me to do it correctly anyway.

"That's a wonderful idea, Cordé," Padmé said as she considered the datapads spread across the table.

Cordé flushed with pride as she picked up her caf mug—probably in an attempt to hide the pleased smile spreading across her face.

"But what about Senator—Senator—oh!" Versé cussed. "Whatever! That Senator from Rodia. Good old what's-his-name. What about him? Don't you think he'll be upset?"

"Personal friend of the Naberries or not, he made a thrice-cursed allegorical play in favor of the Military Creation Act." I yawned, plopping back into my seat next to Dormé. "I don't think we can win him over."

"Senator Farr, Versé. Senator Onaconda Farr," Dormé corrected Versé as she politely scooted closer to Cordé to make more room for me on our sofa. Dormé, Cordé and I always claimed the sofa facing the window, while Versé and Padmé always sat on the one facing into the apartment.

"Yeah, Dormé, sure. I don't know why you bother to tell me this stuff. I never remember it anyway." Versé rolled her eyes. "Face person, remember? I don't do names."

Dormé closed her eyes and then gracefully let the subject go. I was grateful.

It was too late at night to get into the necessary discussion about Versé's inability to care about her inability to remember names. I did, however, make a mental note to talk to her about it when I was feeling more awake. As a handmaiden to an important political figure, knowing names was sort of important. She couldn't keep referring to Senator Farr as 'good old what's-his-name' any more than she could keep calling Senator Organa 'good young what's-his-name'. I'd nearly called both of them by their 'nicknames' at least twice now while talking to their aids. When that started happening, things had gone too far.

However, there was a time and a place for that discussion and it wasn't now.

"In any case," I said, "Are you alright with letting go of trying to win Senator Farr's vote, milady?"

Padmé nodded a little absentmindedly. "Uncle Ono won't be swayed. I think the best strategy would be to focus on the more undecided senators and planets for now, using the approach Cordé suggested."

"Of course, milady." Dormé made a note in her datapad. "Should we start with Mid-Rim worlds or the Core worlds?"

"Well," Cordé spoke up timidly, "I was thinking—well, I mean, I don't know and, obviously, it's entirely up to you, milady—but I was looking through the numbers earlier and it seemed to me that there is a greater number of mid-rim worlds that are undecided and have positive relationships with Naboo and you, milady, than there are Core worlds. Also," a very tiny but obviously amused smile appeared on Cordé's face, "a lot of the Mid-Rim worlds seemed to think that Senator Farr's play was really ridiculous. And that his cameo in it was reaching beyond good taste. So that might work in our favor."

Padmé gazed into space for a moment, seeming to weigh Cordé's points. Then she began to sift through the numerous datapads that were covering the caf table. She was very careful not to bump into anyone's caf cups, precariously placed around the datapads as they all were. However, we all knew from prior experience that, with as many datapads on the table as there were, it was only a matter of time before someone's cup tipped over. Cordé, Dormé, Versé and I all picked up our caf cups as Padmé continued to look through the datapads. As the seconds continued to tick past, Cordé bit her lip and seemed to shrink in on herself a little, looking more and more uncertain.

Finally, Padmé looked up from the datapad she had been studying, met Cordé's eyes and smiled.

"I agree. That would be the best course of action."

Cordé positively beamed.

I raised my caf cup to hide my amused smile.

"So," I said once I finished ingesting more caffeine. "Are we all in agreement that Cordé ought to be in charge of arranging the tour?"

Cordé jumped, spilling caf on herself. She let out a small yelp of pain.

"Oh, ouch! That doesn't look—" Versé glanced around wildly and then yanked off her cloak and thrust it across the table at Cordé. "Use this! I'll go get some cold water and you—oh for the love of the Seven Goddesses, someone take her caf cup already!" Versé hollered over her shoulder as she rushed to the kitchen.

Dormé neatly lifted the mug away from Cordé, who was pulling her skirt away from her legs and looking at Versé's cloak uncertainly even as she winced.

"Versé already stained the only skirt that it matches," I told Cordé. "You may as well use it."

Relieved, Cordé began to dab at her legs. Then, in a whirlwind, Versé flew back into the room, cold water and washrag in hand.

"Cordé, you've got to work on that self-confidence thing. I know I've told you that a million times already, but it's seriously starting to injure you! You just spilled hot caf on yourself because you're an idiot who didn't realize that you would obviously be placed in charge of the plan you thought up. Seriously, Cordé, not that unexpected! Especially not when Sabé and Milady and Dormé are involved. Me and Typho? Maybe you'd have some right to be surprised, but honestly!" Versé ranted in exasperation to her flushing and injured friend.

"That's not why—I mean, I have—my self-confidence is perfectly—" Cordé stuttered, as she grew redder and redder.

"Sure it is," Versé scoffed. "You have perfectly good self-confidence, which is why—"

"How is your leg, Cordé? Do you think you'll want any burn cream from the med kit?" Padmé interrupted smoothly, before Versé could embarrass Cordé any further.

"No." Cordé shook her head, her eyes fixed firmly on her burned leg. "Thank you, milady. I should be fine."

Versé rolled her eyes as she squeezed past Padmé to reclaim her spot on the sofa across from Dormé and me. "As if you'd ever say otherwise, you silly little idiot…"

Dormé coughed—probably to cover up a laugh.

I ignored all of them. It was late. I was tired. There was not enough caffeine in the galaxy to keep me coherent for another hour. It was time to finish the meeting.

"Wonderful," I told Cordé. "If it turns out to be worse than you thought, comm me and I can cover for you tomorrow while you get it fixed up. Anyway—recap." Padmé and Dormé exchanged slightly exasperated looks. Ignoring them, I continued. "Naboo will not be pushing for harsher transport laws in metropolitan areas despite the clear need for them."

Padmé seemed to be torn between amusement and frustration. Dormé was clearly suppressing laughter. Versé snorted loudly and a small smile flitted across Cordé's face.

I didn't know why they found it so amusing.

We could have died and, nearly a week later, the person and the company responsible for the falling cargo still hadn't been caught. The peace officers hadn't even seemed to try very hard to catch the driver, despite the fact that thirteen people had died and countless others had been injured in the accident. When I tried to comm and ask them about their progress, the peace officers had essentially told me that they had more important things to worry about.

Clearly, metropolitan transport laws and the enforcement of said laws were important and underrated issues that ought to be addressed. Preferably by Padmé, who had a built in and emotionally moving story about the dangers of unsafe metropolitan transportation.

I didn't understand why no one agreed with me and why they were all so set on defeating the Military Creation Act.

However, I decided to be the bigger person, let it go and continue with the recap. "We will instead be focusing all of our energy on defeating the Military Creation Act. To further that goal, Dormé is still acting as unofficial Naboo spy—the notes say to keep up the great work and maybe try to further your network to see what the lower governmental officials think of the Act, not just the upper ones. I'm to enlist Eirtaé's help with distributing information pamphlets to the students at the University. I'm also supposed to try to find relevant professors who might be willing to talk at the Defeat the Act Rally that Versé is organizing with the aids for the Representatives of Chandrila and Ithor. Versé is in charge of gathering up important figure to speak at the rally as well as dealing with all the necessary permits, food, decorations, etcetera, etcetera…"

"Honestly…" Padmé muttered while I glanced down at my notes.

Once again ignoring her, I blazed on. "Cordé will be talking to Mid-Rim planets in order to set up the dates and venues for the as-yet-unnamed 'Let's defeat the Military Creation Act' planetary tour—I think—" I rifled through the datapads on the cluttered table. After a moment, I located the datapad with Padmé's calendar pulled up on it and quickly skimmed it. "Only for these dates—" I highlighted the first month of the two month Senate recess, "and make sure that Padmé has a reasonable—I meant Senator Amidala, sorry it's late—has a reasonable schedule so that she can sleep as well as visit lots of planets. Also, you two talk to each other and get a more definite schedule sorted. Cordé, make sure to keep in contact with us about that and clear all travel arrangements with Typho so that he doesn't throw a fit.

"Um… The Senator is in charge as always, so any major change of plans goes through her… However, I am supervising everything per usual, so talk to me if there are any smaller problems or concerns… Dormé, Versé, Cordé, make sure you are writing me daily reports detailing all of your ideas, all of your discoveries and all of your plans, however loose they may be, so that I can keep the Senator properly updated… Milady, if you do anything or change your mind about anything or need anything, you don't have to write me a report but try to let me know so that I can make sure we're all updated and working towards the same things… I'll send out memos as need be… Is there anything else you lot want to talk about—you know, any more ideas, concerns, points of interest—or can we go to sleep?" I looked up at everyone expectantly.

"Are you tired, Sabé?" asked Dormé blandly. Her eyes were dancing and Versé was giggling obnoxiously.

At that moment, I hated both of them.

"Anything relevant?" I asked again, a little more sharply than I meant to.

Versé stopped giggling but no one said anything.

I waited a moment longer.

Padmé was pulling her hair out of its twist, Cordé was dabbing her burn with more cold water and Dormé and Versé were very pointedly not looking at one another, their lips twitching.

I sighed.

"Going once… going twice… And…" I paused for a moment. Everyone turned to look at me expectantly. "Okay. This week's Senator-Handmaiden Meeting is officially adjourned. Unless there are any objections, we will meet same time and same place next week, right, milady?"

"Yes," Padmé agreed. Then, she added, "Versé, if you could send all of the finalized plans for the Defeat the Act Rally to me, I would appreciate it. Dormé, if you discover anything extremely relevant, letting me know directly would be best. Sabé, don't forget your meeting with Typho tomorrow morning. Our mid-week meeting is the same time and place as it always is. And Cordé—"

Cordé looked up from her slightly burned leg with a start.

"Yes, milady?"

Padmé smiled. "Would you mind staying a few minutes longer? I want to start working out some of the details regarding the tour."

Cordé lit up like a candle. "Of course not, milady!" She was positively glowing with happiness and pride.

"Wonderful." Padmé grinned at her.

"Well, since that's all, good-night everyone." I stifled a yawn as I stood up.

"Good night, Sabé," Versé replied as she stood up to begin the nightly security checks.

"I'll walk out with you," Dormé told me, quickly standing. "Goodnight, milady, Cordé. Versé, try to ensure that they don't stay up all night."

Versé stood at attention and then saluted Dormé with a wide smirk on her face. I rolled my eyes.

"Goodnight," said Padmé.

"Bye," Cordé said with a little more verve than usual. She was clearly excited to be spending time with Padmé.

Padmé and I glanced at each other—I could see my amused triumph mirrored in her eyes—and then we quickly looked away. If we ended up smirking at each other, Cordé would probably assume that we were laughing at her and then shut down. As the goal was a happier, more open, more confident Cordé, us getting caught smirking at each other would be very counterproductive.

So, with only one more brief goodbye wave, I led Dormé to the elevator that took us out of Padmé's apartment and into the lobby below.

Once the elevator door slid shut behind us, she turned to me with politely masked curiosity.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"What was what about?"

She slanted her eyes my way and then raised her eyebrows, not buying my confusion.

Sighing, I answered, "Cordé's excited to be planning the tour with Padmé, that's all."

The elevator continued to descend.

"Sabé?" Dormé began a little hesitantly.

I was mid-yawn.

Feeling awkward, I tried to swallow it. When that didn't work, I covered it with my hand as I turned to look at her.

"I don't want to—I know you are the—" she stopped.

By this time, I had successfully completed my yawn.

Thus able to talk and react without looking like an awkward idiot, I smiled at her. "Spit it out, Dormé. I'm so tired, I don't think I'll be able to—do whatever it is you're worried I'll do."

She bit her lip, collected herself and then calmly continued.

"I do not wish to appear as though I'm telling you what to do. After all, you are the Head Senatorial Handmaiden. However, I wish to speak with you about some concerns I have. I didn't want to go over your head and talk to the Senator without bringing it up to you first." She paused for a moment, checked to make sure I was still listening—as we were stuck in the elevator together, I didn't have much choice but to listen—and then continued. "Versé doesn't know everyone's names. She needs to learn them. She also needs a more professional manner when interacting with other people. Cordé's confidence also has to improve, otherwise she may end up second guessing herself and getting someone injured—I don't want to tell you what to do," she hurriedly assured me, suddenly anxious again, "I only, I wasn't aware if you knew, or if you were doing something about it and I am concerned. That's it. That's all. Only concerned."

The first half of her statement had been presented in her usual self-assured, inwardly calm way. The second half came out as something of a worried mess, which was very, very unusual.

I wasn't sure if I ought to be upset with her for being so critical of her fellow handmaidens and, indirectly, of me or ashamed that I had let things get so far out of hand that she felt she had to talk to me about this or amused about how worried she was about the whole thing or grateful that she had talked to me about her concerns before talking to Padmé.

I wished this conversation was taking place when I was more coherent.

Oh, well. Nothing for it now but to handle it. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I reluctantly prepared to answer all of her concerns, right that moment. After midnight. Running purely on caf. While in an elevator.

Brilliant.

Some days, I really hated my job.

Expected Update Time: Before (or on?) June 8th