"Once again: human females are some of the most vulnerable creatures in the galaxy. You must avoid hand-to-hand combat at all costs. Ideally, you neutralize a threat how?"
"At a distance, with a blaster or long range weapon" We all chorused
"Yes. If that fails?"
"Hidden vibroblade or other close combat weapon" We responded like a flock of well-trained violent parrots.
"If that fails, well then, that's what we're here to practice. So that you may pray your training will help you elude what will likely be the superior strength of your opponent." Lieutenant Pham really was not an optimistic instructor, we had discovered our very first day of training with him. Our first session had consisted almost entirely of a lecture on all the ways to avoid confrontation and how we would most likely die if we were in a confrontation. The togruta warrior was a rarity in the security department, as a non-human. Naboo tended to be an insular planet, and very few non-humans chose to live there. Many visited; even did residencies or took courses of study, but to work in royal security indicated a life-long commitment. I wasn't sure how someone so pessimistic had made their way into such a prestigious position, but perhaps the absolute lack of optimism had driven him to work doubly hard. Regardless, he was making me feel like I was doomed not only to fail to protect Padmé, but also die myself. Eirtaé raised her hand. I suppressed a sigh and felt Rabé shift impatiently next to me. We'd been schooled for a month now on not showing emotion, but when Eirtaé wound up for a long "question" that was really just a vehicle for showing how smart she was, it was hard to stay perfectly impassive. I only half listened as she asked a long winded question about other hidden weapons, and received glowing praise from Lieutenant Pham. My mind wandered a bit. I'd been at the Academy for three months, now, and finally, it was starting to feel a little bit more like just maybe I might be able to do this.
My introduction to the other handmaidens had not been particularly smooth. When I arrived at the awe-inspiring hidden Academy—blindfolded for security measures—I had met nine other young women, who I soon learned had all gone through a rigorous selection process to earn their place as handmaiden trainees. My appearing like a fledgling dropped off in the wrong nest did not sit well, especially when they found out I had come from Theed Conservatory and had pretty much zero practical skills to recommend me to the job. The situation had not improved by my refusal to tell them how I had been chosen. I wasn't sure how far the non-disclosure I had signed reached, but I was too scared to break it, even for fellow Handmaidens. I did accidentally reveal that I had met General Panaka, which only increased my mystique and the slight undercurrent of jealousy. To top it all off, on the way to the academy, I was told that following standard procedure, Handmaiden were required to take royal names in the pattern of their monarch. I was given a list of suggested names, all ending in the same 'é,' that Padmé did. Some, like Eblormellé seemed fully absurd. Did anyone actually choose something like that? I killed at least an hour in the speeder by worrying about which name I should choose. In the end, Sabé seemed to make the most sense. If I slipped up and began to introduce myself as Tsabin, Sabé would be an easy save. Changing my name made this whole choice seem even more outrageous, and brought a wave of homesickness like I'd never felt before. I had showed up with a name that was only an hour old, and introduced myself sheepishly, feeling like someone was going to call me out on a lie and say, 'you're not Sabé! That's clearly not your name!' But Sabé I now was, and of the group of women I was introduced to, neither Saché, Dané, Edlé, Yané, Tellé, Ashé, Rabé, Ormé, Eirtaé, or Fé seemed to have had anything to say about it. They knew me only by my new name, and I knew them only by theirs.
I had endured an entire week of being horrible at all my training classes and mistrusted by my fellow handmaiden trainees before Panaka finally showed up, and in a private meeting with only the nine other handmaiden, he explained the decoy protocols and why I had been chosen. My life became much, much easier after that conversation. Once I no longer was a privileged outsider dropped into their laps without working for my spot, the girls had banded together to help me as I struggled to match their pace and skills. Handmaidens were required to not only be highly competent in physical defense, but also security strategy, diplomacy, politics, hair and makeup, and the basics of spycraft. I had no training in any of these. A certificate in beauty treatments had helped Rabé to earn her place. She and I spent many nights doing each other's hair and makeup, as she helped me to understand the training we were receiving in court makeup and hair. Eirtaé was from a political family. She had aunts, uncles, cousins, and even siblings who served as high ranking politicians and aides. She even had an aunt and a cousin who were former handmaiden! Yané had a mind for strategy and had been taken from a security apprenticeship. And then there was the physical fighting. Saché pitched in to help me there. A former acrobat, Saché could move in ways like I'd never seen, whipping out hidden training knives and having them at my throat before I knew what was happening. Each day seemed to bring new sore muscles and make my tired brain even more exhausted. Three months went by in a blur, as I ate, drank, and slept handmaiden training. The others spent some of their free time relaxing. I had to spend mine studying and practicing. I'd never felt this behind, even at the conservatory. But the thing was—I enjoyed my training at the academy so much more. I was getting better. I was terrible, certainly, but I was getting better. And maybe I had the potential to even be good. I hoped so. With the hallikset I'd known for years that I was mediocre and always would be. But here, with handmaiden training, maybe I could be more. For once I was learning skills that seemed like they could be learned. Hallikset required innate genius for greatness. But memorizing the noble houses of Naboo? That I could do with hard work. And after years of musical training on an instrument I had no genius for, I knew hard work.
The one thing I surprisingly was not terrible at from the beginning was diplomacy. Diplomacy involved making sure we could work with, and when needed, manipulate Amidala's constituents. Years of working and living around sensitive musicians had taught me a thing or two about how to maneuver my way around egos. Because of that, I had become the unofficial liaison to Eirtaé. Touchy and a bit snobby, Eirtaé could be difficult to get along with. She was thoughtful and kind once you got past the the prickles, though, and I was universally declared to be the best at getting past the prickles. Not that I didn't receive my fair share of pointed comments, though.
Perhaps it was just their way of making me feel better about my multitude of shortcomings, but the other girls tended to come to me when Eirtaé was in a mood, or needed to be gently taken down a peg.
I was jolted back from my drifting thoughts by exactly such an occasion. The barest of nudges from Rabé's elbow, and a meaningful glance from Saché communicated that they wanted me to do something about Eirtaé's endless droning. I chewed my lip, considering a course of action. I liked Eirtaé, I really did. We were just… getting used to each other still. And sometimes she needed a gentle nudge. But the nudge really did have to be gentle unless you wanted to have a fight and then make up later. Suppressing a sigh, I raised my hand. Time to gently shift Eirtaé back into student mode so we could all get some practice in.
My nudge veiled in a request for Eirtae to help demonstrate having got us back on track, we split up to our individual practice dummies and began pummeling them with our daily drills.
"Right. Left. Elbow. Up. Kick. Kick. Elbow. Elbow" Lieutenant Pham barked out the commands as we ran through the same sequences we did every day. I no longer felt quite as awkward as I first had, though, and finally was not most corrected trainee.
"From the hip, Yané." He called out as he moved along our lines. "PIVOT, Tellé. Excellent, Saché. Open that hand, Dané. You will break all the bones in your frail human hand if you punch with a closed fist. I have told you this repeatedly." As he passed by me, I could feel sweat soaking through my shirt. I braced my self for the nearly inevitable critique on how I was striking with the force of my shoulder, not my whole body yet… no comment! Nothing! He passed by me with no critique I kept punching, kicking, and elbowing the poor hapless dummy, but inwardly, I glowed. Each time he passed me by without correction was a minor victory for me. The first few weeks I think he said my name more than my mother had in my whole life. At last, I was making progress. Bubbling over with joy, I punched and kicked even harder. That dummy didn't stand a chance.