Hand of Fate
Chapter 15 / Trouble on Mon Calamari
22BBY
(Six and a Half Years Later)
Mon Calamari's populous capital city floated peacefully on the endless surface oceans, a steely gray cluster of infrastructure and buildings that both hovered above the waters and plunged deep below the sea surface. Currently in the winter season, the planet was cold. Light snow danced like confetti through Coral City, accumulating on nothing. The metropolis was currently especially busy with comings and goings in preparation for a special delegation rally—many politicians and galactic leaders were expected for a luxurious reception that evening, followed by the political rally the next day.
At a service entry landing platform adjacent to the city's Grand Prestige Venue, a Quarren security officer met a human male who was unloading large hover-cases of exotic beers, wines, and spirits. Dressed in a rugged dark green (so dark it was nearly black) outfit and jacket, the man had his longish ginger hair gathered into a bun at the back of his head.
"Shipment for the delegation reception?" the Quarren male asked on approach. The man nodded. "ID please." The man readily produced the identification, and the security guard looked it over. "Owan Kenby." He looked at the man again, not exactly mistrustfully, but not exactly friendly either. "Haven't seen you here before."
Owan Kenby—better known as Obi-Wan Kenobi under normal circumstances—gave the shadow of a smile. "I'm new." He handed over the forged security clearance authorization, which was promptly scanned.
An affirmative beep came. "Clearance approved, carry on," the guard said, waving him along, but not without another hooded glance.
Giving the impression of leisure and ease, Obi-Wan continued forward, pulling along the linked hover cases behind himself. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings as he was gently peppered by snowflakes that melted the second they hit his skin. It wasn't often that Jedi went undercover quite like this. But these were changing times. He glanced at his comm, which displayed the local time. In about two hours, he was set to meet an agent from RDI—the Republic Department of Intelligence. He had no details on who the agent was, only a code-word and an exact time and place to make contact.
Until then, he needed to look busy.
Deep in the mottled swirling starlight of hyperspace, the newly elected Senator Padmé Amidala stood quietly on the observation deck of the ship Victorious, her trusty astromech, R2-D2, at her side. In addition to the droid, Captains Typho and Ludo plus Lieutenant Dakana all flanked her further back, as well as her handmaidens Dormé and Versé and two other security guards who stood in the shadows, waiting. A more heavy security detail than typical, but there were reasons why.
Approaching from the hold where she'd just changed her outfit, Sabé ran two hands over her hair to make sure the neat bun at the back of her neck was smooth. She straightened the hems of her long blue sleeves, fidgeting a little into the old but instantly familiar fabric of her commander's dress blues. It was a showy but elegant uniform, designed to portray the prestigious rank of commander with a marriage of militaristic flare and classic Nubian elegance. Complete with a sweeping front panel of slate blue and a dramatic rust red cape that furled out from either shoulder, three silver pins of honor were fastened to the front and right-hand side of her chest. It was a uniform that had defined her life so profoundly for so long… and then had retired to be hung gathering dust in a closet for almost four years now.
Padmé turned a fraction, watching Sabé approach from the back of the hold, her face softening into a smile when she saw her former aide, bodyguard, and security official in the Naboo uniform. It felt surreal to be back with people who she'd been so close to for a good portion of life. Gregar, Padmé, even Ludo and Dakana. Life certainly had changed in the past few years. Sabé returned the smile Padmé gave then laid a hand onto Artoo's dome briefly, contemplating hyperspace swirling by. They were due to arrive to Mon Calamari soon.
After retiring with honor from the Naboo security forces shortly after Zana's graduation from primary school, Sabé had taken a job with the Republic Department of Intelligence's branch on Naboo's sister planet, Chommell Minor, knowing she would be able to transfer branches to be closer to Zana's medic school on Coruscant after a certain training period. Six months later, she made that transfer and found herself living and working as an intelligence and security agent on the busiest planet in the galaxy. It was a strange transition, leaving her in a new land devoid of familiar people, places, and things. She'd missed Naboo terribly and despised a lot of things about Coruscant—especially at first. But being nearby to Zana was more important than that homesick feeling. The job itself suited Sabé immensely and felt important, so that helped her look past the feeling of missing the way things used to be. After a year or so, she'd gotten accustomed to the soulless nature of Coruscant and came to view the small agency-sanctioned apartment she kept as home. These days, life on Naboo was a growingly distant memory. A bittersweet thought indeed.
Compared to when she'd just been a handmaiden then ranking security officer on Naboo, she was a rookie agent in a huge sea of moving parts at RDI. Sometimes it was a comfort to be no one. Other times, it was a sorrow. Climbing slowly in the ranks of RDI gave her a new goal and purpose, and now that she was about five years in, she felt adjusted and like she knew what she was doing. With the rank of special field agent, she mostly worked espionage and fact-finding missions—the kinds of work that required the entirety of her focus and time. Her preference, of course—it left less time to get lonely or restless. There were also sometimes security and protection details she worked for RDI's sister agency: the Senate Bureau of Intelligence, or SBI. Now with Padmé as a senator, it seemed that again, the two women's paths were linked—mirrored in a nonexact way.
Sabé contemplated her current mission. Several anonymous tips had come in from Coral City on Mon Calamari, alleging that there was some kind of illegal droid and weapons production factory on the planet. If that were true, Mon Calamari might be a treasonous enemy of the Republic. There were more and more reports all the time about the growing confederacy of starsystems who wished to separate from the Republic. Whispers of the possibility of a galaxy-wide war had been more and more common over the past year or so. The general public seemed split in half in opinions: some thought it could never happen, others were convinced it was inevitable. Either way, this Confederacy, a new movement but a formidable one, was gaining more and more traction.
That's why Padmé was en route to Mon Calamari in the first place: the planet's Senate representative, a Quarren male senator named Dun Tikkes, had been spewing more and more rhetoric that seemed to indicate he wished for his people and planet of Mon Cala to separate from the Republic. Padmé was going to attend a political rally to offer a counterstance on why such a move would be detrimental to the people of Mon Calamari.
Since RDI and SBI worked closely with the senate, it had been easy to arrange for the agency to use Padmé's speech as means to infiltrate and then investigate the droid factory lead. Sabé reflected that using Padmé's entourage as cover was certainly an easy way into Coral City, but once on the planet, it remained to be seen how exactly to proceed. Maybe the Jedi contact she was supposed to meet would have more information—RDI was working more and more with other agencies and orders in recent times, including the Jedi Order. Sabé's focus flickered. Even the thought of 'Jedi Order' caused her to turn her mind to a certain Jedi. The one who her thoughts strayed to more often than she cared to admit. Living on Coruscant and seeing the elegant spires of the Temple as frequently as she did across the city skyline, she lived in silly hope of running into him again. Of hearing his voice across a room or catching sight of a glimpse of brown robe and russet hair. All girlish daydreams that had never materialized into anything real.
Padmé's soft, familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. "It makes me nostalgic to see you in the uniform again, Sabé," the senator said, and when Sabé looked over, she saw fondness lighting her friend's eyes. Another smile passed between the two women, who had seen each other for the first time in years for the first time today. Their reunion just a few hours prior when boarding Victorious had been more emotional than Sabé had anticipated. They'd been so close during Padmé's reign as Queen, and life had demanded too much of them in more recent times to allow for much face-to-face time. They did keep in contact over devices, mostly via texting channels. But still, there wasn't anything quite like being eye-to-eye with someone. "It feels like so long since we've really caught up."
Sabé felt a shade of guilt for her workaholic ways. "I know." An apologetic little expression took over her face that revealed none of how deep in thought she'd just been. "Life never seems to get less busy, does it?" Padmé obviously agreed. Sabé eyed her former queen, who still wore incredibly lavish and ornate gowns as a new senator, but no longer hid behind a painted mask. Padmé looked healthy, beautiful, and poised, her black gown with gold trim and elegant updo making her appear as opulent and slightly magical as ever. "How are you liking Senate life?"
Padmé seemed largely at peace. "It feels right." She then sighed briefly upon further thought, eyes flickering to hyperspace and giving away a more weary side of herself. "But… it is very challenging in moments, and I'm still finding my place. There's so much work to be done to get our government running ethically again."
Sabé doubted if an ethical government was possible, but had to give her friend credit. "If anyone's up to the task, it's you Padmé," she said in a way that was both genuine and playful.
A noise behind them caused them both to look. Sabé's RDI partner, Agent Rett Chronos, was entering from the hold. He was dressed in a Nubian captain's uniform identical to Typho. Sabé's expression darkened fractionally.
"Your partner's very handsome," Padmé observed with interest. An observation almost anyone could agree with. Rett was olive skinned and tall with broad shoulders, chiseled facial features, dark brows, soft eyes, and thick dark hair that was always tousled on the top of his head and shaved neatly on his face. He carried himself with a confident swagger, took nothing too seriously, and had a charm that most people were taken with right away.
"All yours," Sabé muttered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her idiot partner, who was halfway across the room doing his own thing but grating on her nerves nonetheless. Padmé gave a questioning, amused look at Sabé's grievance. "He's nothing but trouble," Sabé explained, knowing how bitter she sounded. "Every time we're on assignment, he makes my job a thousand times harder." And no matter how many times she requested different partner pairings or filed complaints, the agency still stuck her with him at least half the time.
Nearby, Typho was at a tech readout, just finishing up reading something. He came over just then to Padmé and Sabé, giving two respectful nods. His gaze and Sabé's locked for a couple of brief, tense seconds before her addressed Padmé. "Senator Amidala, I've just received a transmission from Mon Calamari. The protests about your visit are still happening." Sabé's thoughtful frown and gaze directed toward Padmé as Gregar continued. "Are you sure this is a wise idea to still go, even with the anonymous threats you've received?"
Padmé took the information in stride, choosing bravery as per usual. "Wise or not, it's necessary. I will go before the Mon Calamari Council. It is unbelievably important that the Quarren and Mon Calamari people see that staying in the Republic is in their best interest. They need the Republic's protection more than ever with the Confederacy looming over us. Separating would be a disaster for their planet. Someone needs to tell the people the truth, because half of their leaders aren't."
Typho listened doubtfully, then hesitated. "I've… also received word that Count Dooku will be there."
Outwardly, Sabé had no reaction. Internally, she was surprised and immediately suspicious. That seemed like a very telling move. Count Dooku was a former Jedi who had left the Order, disappeared for some time, then re-emerged leading with a strong and dangerous message that called for planets to defect from the Republic and form a new government—he was essentially the Confederacy frontman, and not to be trusted. Padmé's confidence faltered into near defiance at the mention of the count. "Like I said. It's of the utmost importance this speech happens. And I certainly won't be intimidated into not going." Wheeling, Padmé's more shrewd side showed as she fixed Sabé with a thorough frown. "Is your assignment here something to do with Dooku?" she asked.
Sabé glanced at Gregar then Padmé. "Unfortunately the details of my mission aren't ones I can share, Milady. But it's safe to say he's very much on the department's radar."
Padmé accepted that but was visibly troubled, withdrawing into distracted thoughts. "I need to review some things before our arrival," she said, eyes on the back of the room where the exit was. "If you'll excuse me."
As she swept past, Gregar and Sabé exchanged weighted, thin smiles then went separate ways—the captain returning to stand with his officers, and Sabé approaching Rett, who was eating a crunchy round applie fruit leisurely.
"Hey boss, ready to blow this investigation out of the water?" he asked casually through a mouth full of fruit.
"There will be no blowing anything," she replied firm and low, trying to keep the discussion discreet. "You nearly got us killed last assignment."
Rett feigned offense. "How was that my fault?!" He asked indignantly, then reconsidered, gesturing with his fruit offhandedly then grinning like it was hilarious. "I mean it kind of was, but—"
"You follow my lead this time," Sabé ordered sharply, using her finger to point at each of them in turn and resisting the urge to smack the applie out of his hand.
He batted the command away lazily, eyeing his fruit for the best spot to take his next bite from. "Yeah fine," he said, most undoubtedly going to do things as he always did: his own haphazard, half-witted way. "You heard from our Jedi contact or whoever yet?"
If he had been paying attention to the assignment directive, he would have already known. "Like I told you before," she said stiffly. "There's a meeting time and place during the delegate reception in a couple hours," Sabé said, not bothering to hide her short temper.
"I still don't get why they're involved now," he said, taking another unbothered and noisy bite of his applie.
Sabé was so done with him. "Don't you pay attention at briefings?" she asked, because she certainly saw him attend most of them (even if he was very late usually).
He grinned at her unabashedly. "That's when I take my naps!" He took another huge bite and chewed noisily, wiping the back of his mouth with his sleeve.
She might as well be on this assignment alone, and maybe it was better to approach it that way. Sabé muttered something darkly like 'insufferable' to no one in particular, walking off before she let her nerves get the best of her. Rett was essentially a henchman and nothing else, nowhere near qualified to be an agent which required finesse, subtlety, and strategy. He really only came in handy during physical fights.
This was going to be a long job.
A Few Hours Later
The Grand Prestige Venue
It required a lot to impress Sabé, but this event hall certainly did. The size of it alone was staggering, rivaling the Senate building in square footage. Dimly lit and luxuriously furnished, the hall was designed to feel theatrical in a way. The domed ceiling of the hall that stretched stories above their heads was programmed with soft lighting that made the entire place look as thought it were under moving, shimmering water. An ornate crystal chandelier hung twenty meters up over the center of the room, suspended by a hover propulsion system halfway between the floor and ceiling. An ornate staircase spiraled around a beautiful water fountain at the entrance, and on either side of the room, huge tanks of crystal clear water housed ethereal sea creatures on display. Soothing, melodic music echoed softly through the large space, intermingling with the louder sound of laughter, conversation, and glasses clinking. There were at least a few thousand in attendance. Padmé had drawn a crowd of curious partygoers, admirers, and a few who wished to engage in friendly debate. Her security team was in a loose and watchful perimeter around her, and Sabé had taken the opportunity to slip away. The huge crowd made it easy to be covert.
She patrolled the edge of the event hall, moving slowly but eyes everywhere all at once, counting people, noticing security officers, watching her cohorts, and keeping an eye out for anything amiss. Even though she wasn't actually on security detail, it was all habit.
Over at a serving table with foods, appetizers, and drinks piled high, Rett wasn't taking himself seriously. He grabbed a fistful of crackers when he though no one was looking and slapped them to his mouth, chewing in his exaggerated, messy way while he cast a look around. Sabé had to look away and forcefully push down her resentful feelings. He was an embarrassment. Her wrist comm beeped, the timer going off. She stopped the notification, seeing that it was the appointed hour to meet her Jedi contact nearby. She glanced at Rett again, then made the executive decision not to remind him or take him with her.
She turned on her heel and went toward the stairs for the balcony that wrapped the entire room. She slipped past the "No Admittance" sign and ascended the stairs at a light jog, ready to meet her Jedi contact.
Atop a special alcove balcony, Count Dooku, Senator Dun Tikkes, and his small entourage of security and allies looked down over the congregants of the reception, watching Padmé Amidala in particular with looks of mild disapproval on their faces.
"I thought she would surely back down after the threats and protests," Count Dooku said gravely.
Tikkes's amphibian three-claw hands dug into the railing in frustration. "That Republic scum has nerve coming here like this." His eyes narrowed with hatred as he watched Padmé engaging several local politicians in deep, interactive conversation. "Look how they all love what she has to say," he spat.
Count Dooku stroked a bony finger down his chin with a dark look in his eyes—he seemed to have other things bothering him. "I don't like her being here, especially not in the middle of... our arrangement."
Tikkes's facial tentacles gave a nervous quiver as his beady dark eyes darted to look at the wizened old count. "Do you think she's here to expose us?" Dooku gave Tikkes an impatient look that nonverbally communicated that was exactly his suspicion. The Quarren straightened up, both eager to please Dooku and afraid to disappoint. "She'll never succeed."
"You also said she wouldn't even come to the rally, and here she is," Dooku pointed out dangerously. "She will give her speech tomorrow and discredit everything you and I have prepared. And if she finds evidence of the army we're building…"
"I know, I know," Tikkes said, growing cagey. He motioned to one of his security personnel, then gave the command, his anger growing. "Kill her. Now, tonight! Make it look like an accident. I've had enough of her meddling. Only a few months in the senate and such a thorn in my side, Ackhgshvik!" he swore.
His thug nodded and left the balcony to do the job. Dooku gave Tikkes a skeptical look, and left as well, his cape swirling behind him as he did. Tikkes followed like the collared-and-leashed pet he was.
Sabé climbed the staircase and came out onto the darker, unlit balcony. It was empty except for a solitary waiting figure with their back turned to her. That was her contact—right where planned, and at the exact time too. She went toward the person, then came a few steps short as her feet faltered. She didn't recognize the person on a physical level, but even before he turned around, she felt a keen, unmistakable sense of recognition that made her heart jump and freeze.
He turned around even as she stared and his face was a mirror of hers: confused and surprised—it seemed that he'd recognized her before he turned, too. "…Sabé!" he exclaimed in the softest breath.
"...Obi-Wan?" she asked, too shocked to find any other words. He looked different—he had a full beard and long hair that was swept up into a tidy bun near the crown of his head. He didn't wear Jedi clothing, but instead some sort of rugged working man's outfit. But his face and eyes hadn't changed except to take on more maturity of time. He was perhaps even more handsome with the beard than without somehow. "You're my contact?" Sabé practically sputtered, dismally caught off guard.
"You're my contact?" he returned in equal measure of flabbergast, and Sabé realized this might be a bigger shock for him than for her. After all, he had no idea about her career change since they hadn't spoken in almost seven years. Wordlessly, Sabé drew out her galaxy-wide recognizable RDI badge and Obi-Wan's face registered surprised understanding. "That's new."
Sabé eyed him up questioningly, a growing smile on her face. "So is your outfit." She always had a hard time imagining him in anything but Jedi robes, yet here he was. "What… exactly are you supposed to be?"
Obi-Wan seemed a little amused and chagrinned at himself too. "An ale and fine wines dignitary." He looked over her commander's uniform and put it all together with a thoughtful nod. "Clever, using Padmé's group as cover to get here undetected." Sabé gave a humble little performative shrug, then their eyes met during a brief silence and her expression fell as she keenly remembered the last time she'd seen him—the stolen kiss, the awkwardness between them, the pain that resulted. His expression shifted to something more serious and reflective. "It's good to see you again," he told her in an emotionally weighted tone of voice that made her wonder if he was remembering what she was too.
Words and coherent thoughts seemed out of reach to her in that moment under the intensity of the sudden surge of feelings and emotion Obi-Wan could apparently so easily awake in her. "Likewise, I'm sure, I'm sorry—" Sabé floundered, trying to get herself together. "I'm just so surprised to see you here like this."
His smile was understanding and almost secretive, which only made her fluster increase. "I assure you… the feeling's quite mutual," he said. Then he grew inquisitive. "Wait, does this mean you're living on Coruscant now?" The corners of his mouth twitched. "And never a call or a visit, old friend?" He was teasing her. And that was actually quite the relief.
"I've been busy," she said, matching his playful tone and relaxing, reassured that he wasn't going to hold that part of their past against her. "How long have you been here?"
"Only a couple of hours. Not long enough to do any proper investigation, by any means." He shifted his weight and folded his arms. "Plus I thought I ought to wait for my counterpart." He peered at her curiously. "What's our first move?"
Sabé arched a brow, in better spirits now that they could focus on the task at hand. "Oh, I'm in charge? Good to know." She turned and leaned her elbows on the smooth bannister and contemplated the event hall spread out below them. Count Dooku and Tikkes were entering into the main area from the grand staircase together. Her mind began to refocus and adjust to the idea of working with Obi-Wan on this assignment. It actually boosted her mood, because she knew he was a trustworthy and cunning warrior. "Count Dooku being here is a bold and telling move," she said. "I think Senator Tikkes has something to do with all this." She gave Obi-Wan, who came to stand beside her at the bannister, a sidelong look. "I think we ought to go pay his home office a visit and see what's on his personal devices. He strikes me as the type who would leave self-incriminating evidence laying around."
Obi-Wan nodded, appearing up for the challenge. "Ready whenever you are. He should be distracted here for quite some time."
Sabé straightened up and put on more seriousness than necessary. "First, I need to know…" she looked at the top of his head, not bothering to hide her amusement. "Is that hair real?"
She made for the stairs, hearing Obi-Wan sigh as he followed. "Now you sound like Anakin."
"And he's where, exactly?" Sabé asked as they descended the stairs. Noise grew as they re-entered the party level.
"On a mission with another master. Which is why I volunteered for this, actually." Obi-Wan explained, then frowned thoughtfully as they stood just outside of the staircase entrance. "Speaking of. Aren't there supposed to be two of you?"
Sabé's mood soured. "Yes. He's around here somewhere. And he's completely useless."
Obi-Wan however had gone ramrod tense and was staring into the center of the room. "Wait. Wait."
Even as Sabé's eyes flew to try and see whatever he was seeing and her adrenaline kicked up a notch, the grand chandelier's propulsion system went completely out and the massive structure plunged down toward the guests filling the massive hall—more specifically, toward the place where Padmé and others stood. Screams of dismay came as people noticed. Beside her, Obi-Wan reacted in record time, hands outstretched and a sound of effort coming out from gritted teeth as he used the Force to stop the chandelier just before it could kill—but Sabé's eyes had gone elsewhere. Up at the top of the nearby grand staircase, someone had gone running. Without a second thought as her weapon whipped out into her hand, Sabé raced out into the chaotic sea of guests and darted up the stairs in hot pursuit, shouting "move!" to those in her way.
She dashed out into the frigid cold of night, nearly missing seeing a flash of telltale motion over to the left of the fleeing suspect. Running at a breakneck speed with snowflakes stinging against her skin, she rounded the corner she'd just seen the movement at, and saw ahead a running figure. Digging deep, she sprinted with everything she had, narrowing the distance between them. There was nowhere for the suspect to go. To their left, a high wall, and to their right, a steep many-story dropoff down to the churning ocean below. "Stop!" Sabé shouted, drawing her other blaster mid-run. The second she began firing two deadly lines of laserbolts, the attacker grabbed the railing he ran beside, smoothly catapulting off then falling several stories and jackknifing into the ocean water below.
Sabé slammed into the railing, breathing hard and trying to get a look at whoever it was. Peering down, all she could see was the watery outline of the assailant swimming away with speed she knew could only be a Quarren or a Mon Calamari.
Beside her, she heard someone else's approach. It was Typho and Obi-Wan, and some local authorities were behind them. Obi-Wan seemed to know what had happened as he too looked down into the dark ocean below them.
"Did you get a look at them?" Typho demanded, his face a mask of intensity and breath hard.
"No, but I'm fairly sure whoever just tried to kill Padmé was a local," Sabé said grimly, holstering her blasters angrily. Wind and snow whipped at her, quickly numbing her exposed hands, face, and neck. If she'd been a little faster, maybe she could have apprehended or killed whoever that mysterious attacker was. Furthermore, Rett was nowhere to be seen in the small flood of local law enforcement and security appearing.
"And where the hell is my partner?" she barked to no one in particular.
Author's Note: Sorry about the little lapse in updates! I was working on a music video for about four days straight (it's on the blog if you don't care about spoilers!) worked on some other creative personal projects, and lost track of time. Quarantine makes it feel like the days of the week don't exist anymore. Anyway! I have always found the political aspect of the SW prequels to be a little harder to sit through/get excited about, and with the Clone Wars and stuff about to happen, I hope I didn't bore anyone too much with senators and political rallies etc haha. I am reaaally excited for everything coming next! Clone Wars is where our couple is really going to face some big things.
FYI Next chapter will be tons of S/O - this chapter was more of a mandatory plot establishment.
PS omg wow, almost at 70 reviews, thanks SO much guys!
