To Die for the Republic
Part III: In Which Sabé Almost Dies (Again)
Chapter 2: Aftermath
The next few days went much as that first afternoon did—that is to say, badly. I spent an absurd amount of time being poked, prodded, and talked at by doctors, medical droids, a wide range of specialists who were allegedly meant to be helping, and an increasingly irritated Eirtaé. I spent an equally absurd amount of time crying—tears of frustration, exhaustion, grief, and embarrassment all appeared in copious measures.
Eventually, I got sick of myself and attempted to venture out of the tiny, boring, far too white room. I had a hazy theory that maybe I was just having a negative reaction to the room, as opposed to everything else that was going on in my life. When I told Eirtaé my theory and attempted to convince her to help me into my hoverchair, she said my theory was the saddest attempt at denial she had ever seen and moved the hoverchair as far away from me and my bed as she could, saying that I wasn't even supposed to be out of bed for too long yet, much less leave my room.
I replied with a rude gesture.
A few hours later, Eirtaé gave in and took me and the bulky, slow, and stupid hoverchair on a tour around the medcenter.
We ended our tour in the maternity wing. She parked my hoverchair in front of the medcenter nursery and sank onto a nearby bench, burying her face in her hands and not talking to me. So, instead, we sat in silence, watching the nurses fuss over their charges. In the silence, I developed a new theory about the universe.
"Babies," I said, "are the only people worth being around."
Eirtaé finally lifted her face from her hands to turn and stare at me. "Was that your attempt at a subtle hint?"
I glanced away from the adorable little new additions to the galaxy and rolled my eyes at her.
She rolled her eyes right back at me and then returned her face to her hands.
I huffed. "No, that was not my attempt at a subtle hint, Eirtaé. It's my new working theory about the universe."
Eirtaé lifted her head from her hands just far enough that I could see her raised eyebrow. "Is this working theory as nonsensical as the one about your room?"
My room theory was not nonsensical!
"That's rude, Eirtaé!" I scowled at her. "I spend a lot of time on these theories—you shouldn't dismiss them out of hand like that! You wouldn't ever dismiss one of Yané's theories like that."
"Yané theorizes for a living and also genuinely believes in her theories," Eirtaé said. "You have a random thought and call it a theory because you think it sounds more official that way. The two situations are entirely different and it would be irresponsible and short-sighted of me to treat them the same."
"Doesn't make it less rude." I crossed my arms over my chest and turned back to face the nursery. The babies were still adorable, utterly innocent, and definitely alive. I liked them. I wasn't so sure I liked Eirtaé at the moment.
One of the little baby Twi'leks started waving their little hands in the air like they were trying to conduct an orchestra.
Babies were definitely the most worthwhile beings in the galaxy. My theory was genius and Eirtaé was just jealous she hadn't thought of it first.
We stayed for a while longer, watching the best things in the galaxy breathe and sleep and wiggle around in the cutest way imaginable. The nurses occasionally looked up, as if to double-check that we weren't doing anything suspicious, but otherwise let us be.
Finally, Eirtaé sighed. "We should get back to your room. Wicaté will be here soon and I really don't want to leave her alone with the nurses again; not after what happened last time."
I groaned and tore my gaze away from the nursery and its perfect little occupants.
"See, this is why you shouldn't have given her permission to visit when I was unconscious," I said. "Now us and the poor nurses are stuck with her."
Eirtaé rolled her eyes again—she had been doing that a lot lately—as she stood up and nudged my hoverchair forward.
"She's your friend, Sabé," she said. "It would have been rude to refuse her visitation. Besides, it's not my fault you promised to help her design my wedding dress when you came back from Naboo."
Eirtaé and I slowly made our way down the corridor, away from the nursery.
"No," I said, "But it is your fault she can come visit me and force me to go through all of her sketches instead of—" I struggled for a moment to figure out what I'd do with all the time currently being occupied by Wicaté and her fashion fanaticism. "—well, instead of doing something else." No other activities had sprung to mind, which probably said something really sad about the current state of my life.
"Wicaté is good for you," said Eirtaé.
"Good for me?" I protested. "All she does is say that I have no true eye for fashion and then tell me that I'm not using the hoverchair controls right! How is that good for me?"
Eirtaé and I bickered the rest of our way back through the medcenter.
"—undignified!" Eirtaé was saying as she strode into my room.
"No," I disagreed, nudging my hoverchair after her, "It's actually—"
"Sabé!"
My head snapped away from Eirtaé. Dormé rushed away from the window towards me. Her face was pale and drawn.
My heart pounded in my chest. "What is it? Is it Versé? Is she—"
"Versé is fine." Dormé waved my concerns away. "Or at least unchanged. Last I heard, she was still in her bacta tank. But Jar Jar made a proposal to the Senate and they voted to give Chancellor Palpatine emergency powers! The Chancellor has created a Grand Army of the Republic. The army and a whole host of Jedi are going to confront the Separatists right now!"
My stomach dropped even as my eyebrows shot up. "What?"
"The Jedi and the army are en route to Geonosis and—"
"What army? There hasn't been time to raise an—" The rest of Dormé's words sunk in. My head spun as I nudged my hoverchair further into my room. "Why in the stars are they heading to Geonosis?"
"Jar Jar said he was told that Master Kenobi tracked the Senator's assassin to the planet and discovered Count Dooku forming an alliance with the Trade Federation and the commerce guilds in order to attack the Republic." Dormé started to pace in front of me, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
"Has Obi-Wan returned to Coruscant then?" Despite the dark news—when she came back, Padmé was going to murder Jar Jar for helping to start a war—my stomach flipped at the thought. It sounded as though Obi-Wan had a lot going on at the moment, but surely he'd take the time to visit me, at least briefly. We were friends, after all, and things always seemed better when Obi-Wan was around.
Dormé, though, shook her head. "No! That is why I'm here. Master Kenobi was ambushed by the Separatists while transmitting a message to Padawan Skywalker. That's why—"
The world froze. "Ambushed?"
"—the Jedi and the army are heading to Geonosis. Gregor—Captain Typho, pardon me—said that the council ordered Padawan Skywalker to remain where he was while they went to help Master Kenobi. But the Senator knew about Master Kenobi's transmission too and I cannot see her sitting idly by while someone meant to protect her is danger. What if she goes to Geonosis, Sabé? What if—"
This could not be happening.
In front of me, Dormé kept pacing and her mouth kept moving but I could not make out a word of what she was saying.
Obi-Wan had been ambushed. Padmé and Anakin were almost certainly being reckless morons and going after him. Versé still hadn't stabilized enough to be taken out of her bacta tank. Cordé was dead. With Obi-Wan in danger, and Padmé and Anakin most likely rushing after him, that was three of the most important people in my life in danger—that was three more people who might die on me.
I turned my hoverchair around and headed towards the door, my mind whirling with possibilities.
As a member of the Naboo embassy, I had access to a number of Naboo starships. I'd probably have to lie to be given one, but I had gotten fairly decent at lying and most embassy employees knew me well enough that if I looked incredibly exasperated they might just give me one without bothering to ask too many questions. Captain Typho was probably off somewhere with Jar Jar, trying to do what damage control he could, so he wouldn't be there to stop me. Dormé was obviously at the medcenter, so I wouldn't have to worry about her either.
I wasn't sure how having a hoverchair in a starship would go, exactly, but one of those medical people had been showing me how to get myself from a bed to my hoverchair using only my strong leg and without jostling my bad one. And the bad leg wasn't entirely useless—I could still feel it, which the doctors assured me was a good thing, and it moved a little bit on its own on the bed. If push came to shove, I could probably force it to hold a little bit of weight before it buckled. Besides, I was really starting to get the hang of moving between the bed and the hoverchair—the hoverchair to a pilot seat couldn't be that different, could it?
That just left me the problem of navigating Geonosis itself. I wasn't sure how far away the planet was, exactly—it was in the Outer Rim and had something to do with droid production, but that was about all I could remember about the place—but if I left now, I could probably get there before—
Something yanked my hoverchair to a halt.
"Where are you going?"
Exasperated, I looked over my shoulder to see Eirtaé holding my hoverchair in place and staring down at me.
Dormé stood behind her, eyes wide and anxious.
"Let go, Eirtaé." I scowled at my friend.
She did not let go of the hoverchair.
"Where are you going?" she repeated.
I stared. My heart pounded furiously in my chest. I tried to nudge the hoverchair forward but Eirtaé's grip was too strong. I tried again. The hoverchair barely even budged. This could not be the fastest this idiotic thing could go!
"Eirtaé! Let go!"
"Answer the question, Sabé." Eirtaé's face was smooth and polite, giving no hint as to what she was thinking or feeling.
How could she be so calm about this? My face was hot and my heart still felt like it was trying to escape my chest. The world was starting to spin a little bit but I ignored it.
"Where do you think?" I snapped, trying in vain to move the stupid, useless, stars-forsaken hoverchair forward. The world spun faster, my heart raced, and, for some reason, the bright purple of Eirtaé's dress started to dull and fade. "I'm not just going to let all of them die!"
"How, precisely, do you propose to help them, Sabé?" Eirtaé's voice was infuriatingly polite and so much quieter than I expected. If I hadn't known what she was doing, I never would have been able to guess that she was standing right behind me, digging in her heels and clinging tight enough to my chair that the repulsors were whining with the effort to move.
I blinked and tried to focus on her but it was like she was fading into the white of the room behind her. "I don't know yet, but I can't help them at all if—" The world was spinning off its axis and Eirtaé was barely distinguishable from the white walls. I struggled to continue. "—if I'm not—"
Everything went white.
"—lucky to have you coming to rescue them!" Sarcasm dripped from the words as they pierced the white world around me. "Truly, I'm sure a woman who can't even maneuver a hoverchair without fainting will be a huge benefit to the Jedi Master and Padawan protecting Senator Amidala!"
I blinked. Wicaté was smirking down at me from one side. One of my nurses—I could not remember her name for the life of me—was staring down at me from the other. I was lying on my bed again.
"How do you feel, Miss Reccen?" asked the nurse.
"Like a hero, apparently!" Wicaté chimed in with a wicked grin.
The nurse, thank the stars, ignored her entirely.
"…okay," I answered after a short pause. The world had stopped spinning, my heart no longer felt like it was trying to beat itself right out of my chest, and Wicaté's dress looked a normal shade of bright red.
"I'm glad to hear that, Miss Reccen." The nurse smiled warmly. "Miss Anidale mentioned that the pair of you went on a bit of a tour of the medcenter before getting some upsetting news. The combination of fatigue and emotional distress was probably more than enough to cause a fainting spell. But, just to be sure, I'm going to ask you to stay in bed for a little while now so I can monitor you a bit closer just to make sure nothing else is going on. Sound like a plan?"
"Uh." My face burned. How could I have fainted? "Sure. That, um, that sounds like a plan."
"Wonderful! Do you need anything to drink or—"
After a few more minutes of attempting to suppress my embarrassment, the nurse bustled out of the room, leaving me alone with Eirtaé, Dormé, and Wicaté.
"I arrived just in time to hear you declare your intentions to rescue everyone and then faint dead away," Wicaté snickered once the nurse left. "Spectacular timing on my part, if I do say so myself."
"I'm sorry, Sabé." Dormé took a few hesitant steps closer to the bed. "I did not mean to upset you. I only hoped that you would have some idea as to how Padawan Skywalker and Senator Amidala would approach the situation."
"Recklessly." I stared up at the ceiling and tried to think about anything but how likely it was that Obi-Wan had already died and that Padmé and Anakin were going to follow him into the Peaceful Lands.
"I don't think you're giving them enough credit, Sabé," Eirtaé sighed.
I gave her a flat look. "Anakin tends to lose his head when it comes to people he cares about and Padmé's going to try to be diplomatic, which has roughly, oh, I don't know, no chance of working if the Separatists are already forming an army of their own."
"And Ambassador Kenobi?" Eirtaé challenged.
My mind instinctively shied away from the thought of Obi-Wan. The ceiling tiles were a really dull shade of white though and didn't provide nearly as much of a distraction as I had hoped.
With Eirtaé's eyes still boring holes in me, I bit out, "Could be dead already, if he was ambushed."
"I very much doubt that," Eirtaé said. "The Jedi would hardly be sending people after him if they thought he was already—"
A teenage girl with long dark hair and flushed cheeks skidded into the room, breathing hard. "Pardon me! But this is Sabé Reccen's room, yeah?"
I stared at her. Her timing was awful. And why did she look so familiar?
"Yes," I answered. "I'm Sabé Reccen. What is it?"
"Ma and Pa—they wanted me to tell you! Versé's coming out of the bacta tank! The doctors think she's ready to wake up!"
The next few minutes were a flurry of movement and noise. I wasn't entirely sure how I managed it, but, somehow, I convinced Eirtaé and my poor nurse that I was definitely fine to go down the hall and visit Versé. Then, somehow, Dormé, Eirtaé, Wicaté, the nurse, and myself ended up crowded into Versé's room. Her sister—the girl who had come to get us—and parents crowded around her bed as Versé slowly opened her eyes.
Dormé was near the front of our little crowd of non-family members, with Wicaté, who had never even met Versé before, having parked her hoverchair off to Dormé's right. Eirtaé, who had only met Versé once, stood slightly in front of me as the nurse watched over me with badly hidden concern. The four other women mostly shielded me from Versé's view, something I was oddly grateful for.
As Versé's family talked to her in low tones, I did my best to blend into the white wall directly behind me.
She was alive. Versé was alive—she had survived and woken up and would be able to live out the rest of her life.
The more she talked quietly to her family, looking increasingly confused and concerned, the more convinced I was that this wasn't some sort of wishful dream on my part, but reality. And the more I was convinced this was reality, the more I wanted to leave the room before Versé noticed me.
My stomach churned.
Maybe I could just sneak out of the room without anyone noticing? Well, I supposed the nurse would notice, seeing as she kept looking at me like she thought I was going to fall out of my hoverchair at any moment. But maybe if just the nurse and I left—except Eirtaé was near enough that she'd definitely notice if both of us left. And there wasn't any chance of Eirtaé staying in the room after I left—I appreciated everything Eirtaé was doing for me, but star's above was she a hoverer. After Eirtaé followed us out of the room, as she no doubt would, Dormé and Wicaté were sure to notice that over half of the non-relative crowd had exited stage right.
Maybe I could—
"Sabé?"
I snapped back to the present, where I was still stuck in Versé's room.
Versé's mother had stood up from her daughter's side and somehow caught my eye despite the crowd of people in front of me.
My stomach flipped.
She beckoned me towards the bed where Verse, looking pale and small, watched me with narrow eyes.
For half a heartbeat, I considered pressing my hoverchair to the top of its speed and zooming out the room, down the corridor and back to the nursery, where the best beings in the galaxy were hanging out. Then I took a deep, steadying breath, reminded myself that Versé was alive and that was so much more important than how uncomfortable I felt, and attempted to maneuver my hoverchair forward.
I knocked into Dormé and nearly collided with Wicaté's hoverchair before finally making it to the front of the crowd. Behind me, Wicaté snorted loudly. I ignored her—the fine controls for the hoverchair were complicated!
"Hello," I said as I slowly moved closer to Versé and her family.
"Where's Cordé?" demanded Versé. "What happened?"
My heart felt like it stopped as my head snapped toward Versé's mother, who gave me a pleading look.
Great. Not only did I get Cordé killed, but now I had to admit it to Versé, one of her best friends. My heart sped up and my stomach churned.
My life was just the best.
"What do you remember?" I asked.
Versé scowled at me. "I remember you telling us all to get under the landing ramp and then nothing happening. Then I started to help everyone we had forced under the landing ramp back up. That's all I remember. Where's Cordé and why are we in a medcenter?"
What had her family been talking to her about if not why she was injured? The world started to fade again. Versé's impatience was visibly growing but I still took a couple of deep, even breathes. I was not going to faint again. Absolutely not.
"Sabé!" Versé snapped. "What happened?"
The world came back into focus.
There wasn't a good way to say this. I resisted the urge to leave the room. Instead, I answered as simply and honestly as I could.
"The ship exploded."
Versé froze and her face lost what little color it had.
There was something hard and awful in my throat, but I forced my words past it, "Captain Typho, Padmé, and the fighter pilots escaped without any injuries. The rest of us weren't so lucky. The pilot and three of the guards died before reaching the medcenter and both of us were unconscious for over two weeks." The next words were the worst, the hardest. I wished I didn't have to say them. But waiting to say the words wouldn't make them less true. "And Cordé—"Say it, Sabé! Just say it! "Cordé died shortly after arriving." Versé started shaking her head. I continued, "I'm sorry, Versé, but she's gone."
Versé's head kept shaking her denial. "Cordé was still under the ramp! She couldn't have died. Why are you lying to me?"
She didn't—I swallowed back the painful lump in my throat and slowly shook my head back at Versé. Next to me, Versé's mother cried, although I didn't know why. As far as I knew, she had never even met Cordé. What right did she have to mourn?
I ignored her and did my best to also ignore the lump that was still stuck in my throat. "Cordé wasn't under the ramp when the ship exploded. One of the guards kicked her out from underneath it. I tried to get her back under, but I couldn't. There wasn't time before the explosion. I'm sorry, Versé. But she's—" The world blurred and I hurriedly blinked and swallowed. Why did Versé make me keep saying it? "She's dead. Her soul's gone on to the Peaceful Lands."
Versé would not stop shaking her head. "Cordé's not dead! She can't be dead. Why do you keep saying she is?"
"Why do you keep denying it? Do you honestly think I would lie about something like this?" I snapped. I wasn't going to say it again. I wasn't. I couldn't. "The ship exploded and I couldn't keep all of you underneath the landing ramp and people died, Versé! They died! Denying it won't bring them back or make it less true. They're gone! They're—" The world started to spin and fade away. I stopped talking. Fainting was not something that I would let happen. Not again. I shut my eyes and started taking in deep, even breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.
Picture a drop, I ordered myself desperately as my head continued to spin. Somewhere tall and high up where the world seemed small and I seemed even smaller. The ledge at a Coruscanti park, I decided. Where there were large gargoyles on one side and an endless fall into the core of the planet on the other. Imagine—
"Miss Reccen?" The nurse sounded anxious. I tried to replace her voice with the sound of the wind whispering past, but couldn't quite succeed. "Are you alright?"
"What's wrong with her?" Versé's voice rang high and shrill, shattering the image of the drop I'd conjured in my head.
But my heart still raced and my head still spun so I ignored her and kept breathing and trying to picture the drop.
"I am terribly sorry to end things like this." Eirtaé sounded her most polite. "But I'm afraid Sabé has been over-doing things a bit today. She really ought to be lying down. Once she's lying down, I'm certain she'll feel better. However, I am afraid we have to leave. If you have any questions for her, you can talk to her sometime tomorrow. But now, if you'll excuse us..."
The drop was once again starting to form in my mind. My hoverchair jolted but I ignored it in favor of focusing on how calm and at peace I felt when I was in a high place.
By the time my breathing evened out, my head stopped spinning, and I felt like I could open my eyes again, Eirtaé was already pushing me down a corridor, away from Versé.
Expected Update Time: June 12th 2015 (Maybe sooner? Maybe?)