"Have you ever been to Tatooine, Master Qui-Gon?" Sabé asked, doing her best to keep things at the dinner table more or less diplomatic. It was an awkward affair to begin with, for the Cruiser only had one small mess hall with an even smaller table. As a result, the only people who had been able to reasonably sit for a formal dinner had been herself, the two Jedi, Panaka, and their Gungan guest.
Sabé would personally rather have had Padmé as the fifth, instead of the Gungan, but Padmé had pointed out that it would be wiser not to show any kind of favoritism among the handmaidens. As it turned out, Padmé was present regardless. She and Rabé stood silently at posts on either side of the doorway.
"No, my lady," Qui-Gon replied. "Though I believe my Padawan has."
"Strange," she commented, confused. "I understood that Masters and Padawans undertook all missions together."
"That is usually the case," Qui-Gon agreed, "but Padawans at a senior level, like Obi-Wan, receive independent assignments on occasion. I believe Obi-Wan's previous trip to Tatooine was made when he was merely an initiate."
Obi-Wan Kenobi nodded. "Yes, the year before I became a Padawan. Master Mace Windu took a group of us there for a series of trials."
"What is it like there?" she asked.
"Hot and dry," he supplied. He did not seem inclined to say more, and Sabé had to consciously keep herself from sighing. These gentlemen seemed to want to eat in silence, and she was beginning to think she should just let them.
The cramped table accommodations were made more uncomfortable by the fact that Panaka was still seething over the Tatooine decision, although this was never spoken aloud. He was very stiff with the Jedi, who for their part did not seem at all fazed. Sabé wondered if anything could break the attitude of cool professionalism they exuded at all times.
The Gungan, Jar Jar Binks, seemed too absorbed in eating to care for conversation. She was relieved that the Jedi had taken it upon themselves to be responsible for him, for she certainly would not have wanted the job. She did wish he wasn't eating with them, however. His table manners were most uncouth.
Padmé had been excited about the presence of this Jar Jar Binks. She had met him while she was cleaning Artoo-Detoo, and introduced the other girls to him upon her return to the cabin. While Sabé shared her sister's curiosity, she quickly lost enthusiasm for this particular Gungan, whom she found decidedly odd. She had later, in private, asked Rabé whether all Gungans behaved as strangely as Jar Jar. Rabé's reply had been a laugh and a shake of her head. Sabé got the feeling that Rabé considered this a childish question. Maybe she was right, but how was Sabé to know?
Making another attempt to liven the meal, Sabé asked Panaka, "Have you been able to determine the problem with the hyperdrive?"
All three men stopped eating to look at her in mild surprise. "It cannot be examined until we land, my lady," Kenobi finally said. "Right now the hyperdrive is running, so it cannot be properly inspected."
Sabé was glad the makeup on her face concealed the flush that suddenly came upon her, embarrassed at displaying her ignorance. She also felt just a little bit annoyed with Kenobi's tone, which seemed to her as if he thought he was explaining something to a child.
He does not know Naboo custom, she tried to remind herself. She needed to keep calm. He probably does consider you a child.
Princess Sabé Naberrie would have found some scathing retort to fling at this pretentious Jedi, but unfortunately she could not be Princess Sabé right now. "I see," she said instead. "Well… thank you for explaining, Padawan Kenobi."
Panaka chuckled quietly, and Sabé knew beyond any doubt that he was laughing at the discomfiture she was going through. She couldn't resist giving him a good hard glare, for which she immediately reprimanded herself. Padmé could not afford for her to make any such lapses in character. This decoy business was proving much trickier than she had originally anticipated.
It was fortunate that the trip to Tatooine was not that long. Dinner was only a small taste of the overall tension of their situation. The nerves and emotions of all on board were already running high, and between the quibbling of the handmaidens, the egos of Panaka and the Jedi in a constant battle for limited ship space, and the fact that Jar Jar seemed to knock over anything that wasn't bolted down, it was a relief when they finally reached the barren-looking world.
Sabé had only gotten a couple hours' worth of sleep before she was awakened and forced to put on the wretched queen disguise again. Eirtaé was just finishing up with the black gown's buttons as they felt the ship bumping softly in the desert sand.
Padmé came bustling into the cabin and started going through all the drawers of the nearest travel case, tossing clothes all over the floor.
"What are you doing?!" Rabé protested. "I just got everything cleaned up!"
Padmé pulled out a pair of plain blue leggings. "That Master Qui-Gon Jinn is going out to find spare parts," she said distractedly. "I need to go with him. Someone has to supervise that man; he thinks he can make decisions without me."
"Are you crazy?" Eirtaé asked, finally finishing Sabé's buttons and putting her hands on her hips. "This is a dangerous place. That's what Captain Panaka says. You can't go without us. Does Captain Panaka know about this?"
Padmé stood up, now clutching both the leggings and a gray tunic. "He knows," she said. "And you're right, he's not happy about it, but he is not second-guessing my decision. As well you should not, Handmaiden Eirtaé. Or has the lack of makeup made you forget who is queen here?"
Sabé's mouth twitched in an effort to suppress a smile. "No, my lady," Eirtaé replied.
Padmé frantically changed into her chosen attire, as plain as any Sabé had ever seen her wear. Sabé suspected that the presence of such an outfit was a mark of Saché's influence. Saché had packed one of the traveling cases, and Rabé another, but of the two it was Saché who would have had the presence of mind to pack something plain, in case it were needed. Sabé certainly would never have thought of it.
Thoughts of Saché caused her mind to cloud with worry. She wondered how the two other handmaidens were faring, and her family as well. She could only trust they had found somewhere to hide safely.
While Rabé helped Padmé finish getting ready, Sabé left the cabin in search of Qui-Gon, Eirtaé accompanying her. She spotted the Jedi Master beside the main hatch, preparing to depart. She was relieved to see that Jar Jar Binks was with him. Hopefully he would take the Gungan along.
Sabé had been planning to tell Qui-Gon that Padmé would be accompanying him, but to her horror, he left the ship without even speaking to her. In all fairness, she did not think he had noticed her- she'd only just come within his line of sight- but she had assumed he would wait upon her.
Panaka came upon the two girls a moment later. He came very close, and quietly asked, "Where is she?" Sabé knew he was referring to the queen.
"She's almost finished getting ready." Sabé nodded her head at Qui-Gon's retreating back. "Does he think he can leave just like that? Or does the queen no longer have a say on this mission?"
"He told me to advise Her Majesty that Padawan Kenobi will remain on board to assist her in any regard. As Her Majesty will not be with us, I suppose I shall have to relay his message to you instead."
"Thank you so much," Sabé murmured. "In that case, perhaps someone should advise him that the Queen expects to be kept fully informed of anything important."
"An excellent idea, Princess," he agreed. "I'll leave you to it." He walked off, undoubtedly in search of Padmé.
Sabé scowled at his back. "That man is infuriating," she muttered under her breath.
"I think he's an excellent Captain," replied Eirtaé in kind.
"Well, you would think that, wouldn't you? He hired you."
"Oh yes, because we all know I couldn't possibly have earned the position on my own, now don't we?"
Sabé was unable to retaliate against this last scathing comment, for a passing member of the Guard forced her to choke down her indignation. "Excuse me, Lieutenant," she called.
The young man looked rather flustered at being so directly addressed. "Yes, Your Highness?"
"Could you tell me where I might find Padawan Kenobi?"
"I believe he is examining the hyperdrive in the engine room. Or was a moment ago."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." The young man bowed as they moved on down the corridor.
The engine room comprised the entire lower floor of the Cruiser, which wasn't saying much, as the narrow tapering of the ship's underside meant that one small room was about all that would fit. It was where the astro-droids were stored, and Sabé had only been there once, on her initial tour of the Cruiser the year it had been purchased for Leiandra's use.
As she and Eirtaé stepped off the turbolift, she was surprised to hear Kenobi's voice. It took her a moment to realize he was grumbling to himself.
"…he goes off again, getting into who knows what kind of trouble, while I stay here baby-sitting a pack of handmaidens." This complaint was accompanied by metallic clanking and shuffling noises.
They found him elbow deep in a tool box set atop a counter, rummaging around for something, and seemingly not aware of their arrival. For her part, Sabé was both highly amused and slightly smug at catching a glimpse of him without his stern Jedi mask. The knowledge that he was not as serious and imposing as he would have them believe made him suddenly very much less Jedi and very much more human.
Though his back was turned, it did not take him long to realize he was not alone. He turned calmly around and bowed. If he was aware that the girls had overheard his grumbling, he gave no indication. "Your Highness," he said respectfully.
"Now that the hyperdrive is no longer running," she began, carefully emphasizing the last word, "I take it you have determined the problem?"
His eyes twinkled at her words. So the man can recognize a joke when he hears one. "Yes, my lady."
"And can it be repaired?"
"I'm afraid not. It will require replacement parts, which Master Qui-Gon is attending to."
"Yes, as to that… I came here to tell you that I expect to be kept informed of any relevant news, Padawan Kenobi."
"Of course," he agreed. "Was there anything else, my lady?"
"No," she said, wishing there were. She couldn't help thinking that his question felt very much like a dismissal, and it frustrated her. She was not accustomed to being dismissed, even when she wasn't supposed to be the queen.
As they prepared to board the turbolift again, she turned. "Padawan Kenobi," she called. He looked up. "I wonder, would you rather be baby-sitting the handmaidens or the Gungan?" She did not wait to see his reaction, but turned her back and stepped through the door.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You should not have said that," Eirtaé murmured as they edged down the corridor to their cabin. The sheer mass of Sabé's gown made this process cumbersome, so they walked slowly. "I do not think the queen would have baited him like that."
Sabé made no effort to hide her irritated sigh. "Well, maybe you're right, but it was worth it. I couldn't resist."
As they reached their cabin's doorway, Eirtaé grasped Sabé's elbow, stopping her midstride. "You need to resist, Princess," she hissed, placing heavy emphasis on Sabé's title. "Do you think this is some silly palace game you're playing?"
"How dare you insinuate such a thing?" Sabé flung back. She glanced around the empty corridor and quickly ducked into the cabin, practically dragging Eirtaé with her. "What is your problem?" she demanded when they were safely inside. She no longer whispered, but she still made an effort to be discreet. "I hardly think I jeopardized our lives by letting the Jedi know the queen wasn't going to be pushed around."
"Maybe not this time, but what if you slip up somewhere else?"
"For one thing, you can't be sure he thought anything out of place. You can't even be sure that Amidala wouldn't have said something herself."
Sabé was so wrapped up in indignation she was almost surprised to find Rabé's hands suddenly pulling her away from Eirtaé. "What is going on?" the dark-haired girl asked incredulously.
"Lady Bakuro has implied that I am not taking my duty seriously," Sabé told her, with a glower for Eirtaé's benefit.
"Sabé was taunting the Jedi," countered Eirtaé. She informed Rabé of what had taken place in the engine room.
Rabé's reaction was a derisive snort. "Personally, the way you two are behaving, I think his comment seems well-founded." Shaking her head, she continued, "I told both of you that I won't be dragged into this, and I meant what I said. You'll have to work it out yourselves, but I advise you to do it sooner rather than later." With a meaningful glance she added, "We can't be sure how much longer we'll be stuck with each other." Then she very pointedly left the room.
Sabé ignored Eirtaé's piercing stare, picked up her datapad off the small dressing table, and sat down on her bunk to a play a game. Richard had uploaded several for her he thought she'd enjoy. This one was a puzzle game that she found quite soothing.
The long minutes passed in agonizing slowness. Sabé gritted her teeth in annoyance. She knew Rabé had gone away on purpose, and knowing her, would wait a very long time before coming back. Rabé wanted her to be friends with Eirtaé, but Sabé couldn't see how this was possible when Eirtaé was so utterly unbearable. So she focused on her puzzle game with an almost single-minded intensity and tried not to think of Rabé's censure.
It was not easy. Sitting there so quiet and still, with nothing to really distract her- the game itself was actually rather mindless- she was uncomfortably aware that Rabé's words were becoming more nagging. And not just those she had delivered today. All the words Rabé had ever said on Eirtaé's behalf seemed to be breaking free of the defenses Sabé placed around them in her mind.
In reality, it was more than just words; it was Rabé's whole attitude about the situation. She did her best to avoid discussing the topic altogether. Whenever Sabé wanted to complain about Eirtaé, or gossip about Eirtaé, Rabé would cut her short. Sabé got the impression that Rabé was actually scornful in these times. Rabé! Who was the worst gossip in the palace!
But Rabé's gossip is never as hurtful as yours, is it? an inner voice spoke up. A chiming sound told her she'd won a round. She began another one automatically, lost in her thoughts, which were a much more complicated puzzle than the one in her hand. In truth, Rabé sometimes did talk about other people in a less than flattering manner, so why would she be scornful of Sabé doing the same with Eirtaé?
Perhaps there were better reasons, but Sabé knew the cold hard truth was because Eirtaé was Rabé's friend. Regardless of anything else, Rabé was a good friend, and Sabé knew she was hurting her with her behavior. With a great deal of reluctance, Sabé lifted her eyes and forced herself to look at Eirtaé Bakuro.
To her relief, the other girl was also occupying herself. Settled on the top of the bunk she shared with Rabé, and absorbed in a piece of embroidery, she did not notice Sabé's glance. Her features gave no indication of her thoughts.
"Why don't you like her?" Padmé had once asked. Sabé wondered how she had responded, because right now she couldn't remember. Why didn't she like Eirtaé? They had been griping at each other so long that it was hard to say exactly.
Eirtaé was stubborn and snobby. She thought she knew everything, and she liked to show off. Once Sabé really stopped to think about it, the reasons for her dislike weren't hard to pinpoint.
People call you stubborn all the time.
Sabé's nostrils flared defensively. She hated it when people called her stubborn. She wasn't stubborn, she was… resolute.
You've been called a snob more times than you can count.
Snobby had been one of the more kind terms that people had used to describe her after her encounter with Baird Nenshall. Immature had been another. Even her own mother had described her behavior in that particular case as childish and selfish. The reprimand still pained her.
Another chime. Another level defeated. And still she had not solved the tangle inside her head.
Her mother's voice ebbed gently into the tangle. As always it soothed and comforted her. "Oh my girl, I love you very much, but you must realize that being a Princess does not give everything over to your disposal. It might be an overused saying, my dear, but believe it or not, the world does not revolve around you." Those also had been Leiandra's words that day.
The datapad fell forgotten in Sabé's lap as she leaned her head back, remembering the sunshine in the antechamber, the warmth of her mother's hand on her face, and the feeling of relief that despite her faults, she was still loved. Tears flooding into her eyes mirrored the shame that flooded her soul.
She truly did not want to acknowledge it, but she knew what her mother would point out to her now. That every quality about Eirtaé that Sabé disliked was one which she shared with the other girl. Except in her own case, she considered these things her best qualities, carefully wrapped in comfortable euphemisms. Perhaps if she focused not on what she thought of as her pride, but instead on what would make her family proud of her…
All right, Rabé, she said silently, I don't know yet if I can be her friend, but I can at least be civil. Yes, surely I can at least be that much. She wiped her eyes and squared her shoulders. Turning off the datapad, she wondered where to begin. She was surprisingly nervous. But how hard could it be? Everybody else got along very well with Eirtaé. Rabé liked her. Jon liked her…
Jon…
"I hope Jon is okay," she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Eirtaé looked up. "Sorry?" she asked. Her expression was taken aback. She must have been working very intently on her needlework.
"I said I hope Jon is doing okay," Sabé repeated. "And the rest of your family, I mean."
"If anyone can take care of himself, it's Jon," Eirtaé said with a small laugh. She said it slowly, as if hesitating.
"I haven't seen him for awhile. How's he doing?"
Eirtaé shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. He's all over the planet trying to establish these warehouses for offworld shipments. I've only seen him once since Claria's coming out."
"Oh yeah…" Sabé commented with a small, secret smile. "You mean the night he swept Saché off her feet?"
Eirtaé looked up in surprise. "I thought I was the only one who'd noticed."
"Yes, well, I've been meaning to talk to him about it. He can't go treating her like all the other palace girls."
"Oh, I already have," Eirtaé replied, nodding.
"Oh." The conversation hit a sudden halt, and Sabé was once again left feeling awkward. She was still not looking forward to what she had to do, but it didn't seem quite so impossible now.
She took a deep breath, "Listen, Eirtaé…"
A soft rap on the door interrupted her mid-sentence. She pursed her lips together in annoyance. It just figured that she would get interrupted in her grand moment of trying to become a better person.
Rabé peeked her head into the room and spied Sabé sitting on the bed. "Good, you're still dressed. You both need to come out. We're receiving a signal from Naboo." She looked more closely at Sabé's face before adding, "You'd better touch up your makeup. You must have smeared it without paying attention."
Sabé hoped neither of the other girls found out she had been crying.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Panaka and Kenobi were already waiting in the receiving room when Sabé and the handmaidens arrived.
"Has there been any word from Master Qui-Gon, Padawan Kenobi?" she asked as she turned to sit.
"He has not yet been successful, Your Highness," he replied. Sabé was displeased with the vagueness of this answer, but this was hardly the moment to question him in detail. "Proceed, Captain," she instructed Panaka when she had settled herself. Rabé and Eirtaé were in position behind her.
Panaka pressed a key on the communications panel, and a grainy hologram sprang to life before them. Sabé recognized the figure immediately as Governor Bibble. "Your Highness," he said, his voice full of urgency, "wherever you are, I hope you receive this message. I have very little time. Our people are in very critical impending danger. They are starving to death in unsanitary detention camps and the Viceroy has cut off all food supplies until you return. The death toll is catastrophic. We must bow to their wishes. You must contact me." The pleading look on the Governor's face was most heartbreaking.
The transmission ended abruptly. Taking a deep breath, Sabé tried to decide how the queen would have her proceed, while at the same time trying not to think of her family stranded back on Naboo, possibly suffering exactly the way the Governor had described. She desperately wished she knew where her father was.
"It's a trick," Kenobi declared, rising from his seat and heading towards the door. "Send no reply. Send no transmissions of any kind." Had Sabé not been constrained by the demands of formality, she might have rolled her eyes. Did he think they were stupid?
A sudden muffled thumping sound pounded the hull from outside. As one, the three handmaidens turned questioning looks on their captain.
"Sandstorm," replied Panaka. "It came up incredibly fast. I hope her highness has found shelter." He paused, frowning for a moment before he too left the room.
"And that's that," muttered Eirtaé. "Nice to be appreciated, isn't it?"
Rabé giggled, and even Sabé smiled a little. "Did Padmé take a comlink with her?" she asked, standing up. "I'd like to have a better idea of what's going on than 'He has not yet been successful, Your Highness'." At this last, she made her voice a high, snobby simper that was most unlike Kenobi's baritone.
Rabé giggled again before replying, "No, I'm afraid she didn't. Which is a shame, but she was in such a hurry I don't think it occurred to her to grab one."
"Blast," Sabé swore viciously. "I hate being so dependent on these Jedi. It's like they think we don't know anything."
"Well, they do have more experience in these matters than we do," Eirtaé said wryly. "I don't mind listening to their advice."
"Yes, but do they have to be so highhanded about it?" Sabé complained as they started down the hallway. She lowered her voice a little. "The least they could do is tell us what in the stars is going on. Why so secretive? Do they think we can't handle knowing?"
"Perhaps it's just their nature," commented Rabé thoughtfully. "Not many people are privy to the inner workings of the Jedi. Maybe they just keep secrets without even thinking about it. Some would call it…discretion."
Sabé snorted. "Discretion is all very well," she said, "but not when the people to whom you're being discreet need to know!" She shook her head. "It's maddening."
"Padawan Kenobi has achieved the impossible," Rabé said to Eirtaé in a loud whisper. "He has frustrated Sabé and yet is safe from her wrathful retaliation." This statement caused Eirtaé to grin and Sabé to scowl. She turned around and stuck her tongue out at Rabé, who only smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes. "Watch it, Your Highness. I really don't think the queen sticks her tongue out."
Sabé stuck it out again, then grinned.
The cabin was considerably less tense than it had been before. Exhausted from the adventures of the previous day, and facing the prospect of being bored out of her mind before long, Sabé decided to get cleaned up and take another shot at sleep.
After a quick shower, she sat on her bunk, brushing the tangles from her long, thick hair and pondering the ups and downs of the afternoon. Her head was full of worries for Naboo, frustration with the Jedi, and confusion over her thoughts involving Eirtaé.
She paused, the brush in her hand hovering as she thought about what had happened with Eirtaé and Rabé in the hallway. She hadn't felt nearly as annoyed with the blonde as she usually was. Perhaps her previous reflections had actually taken some effect.
When Rabé's turn to use the 'fresher came, Sabé found herself alone with her rival. She brushed her hair faster as she once again worked up the courage to apologize. Apologies were hard enough to make to her family, let alone Eirtaé Bakuro.
She was halfway between deciding whether to do it that night or wait till morning, when the other girl spoke up from the top of the other bunk. "Sabé," she began hesitantly, "I… I'm sorry I lectured you about the laughing thing yesterday. I was just so frustrated and worried, and it struck a sour note with me." She spoke slowly, not meeting Sabé's eyes. Every word seemed excessive torture, as if it were being forced out of her mouth with a hydrospanner.
Sabé goggled for a moment, than silently thanked every star and every deity in the universe that she had been spared the humility of being the first one to apologize. "Oh well," she said, trying to sound offhand, "You were right too, I mean… we need to remember everyone back there."
"I doubt we'll be forgetting anytime soon."
Sabé nodded, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry too," she declared, then winced inwardly. That sounded like one of the memorized apologies her mother had forced upon her when she was little. But it was, unfortunately, the best she could do for now. "I'm sorry I've behaved…imprudently towards you in the past." Imprudently? Why did I come up with a word like imprudently?
Because you're too afraid to use 'childish' or 'stubborn?'
Sabé scowled, and tried to shove her conscience to the back of her head. Give me a break, I'm doing the best I can.
Eirtaé was quiet for a moment. Then she lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling. "Apology accepted. And again, I'm sorry too," she finally said, before reaching over to turn out her reading lamp.
Sabé put her brush away, and turned out her own lamp. She pulled a light sheet over her body and settled down to sleep, relieved that the experience was over. Perhaps Rabé would have wanted them to pour out their hearts to each other and become best friends, but really… in such cases one could only reasonably ask for so much.
Outside the ship, the sandstorm hounded ferociously around them, but Sabé felt safe and peaceful in her cozy bunk. The problems with Naboo were still prominent and very frightening, but the fragile, unspoken new peace between the handmaidens made her feel strangely calm and hopeful. She did not have any trouble drifting off to sleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sabé woke shivering. She fumbled in the darkness for her thermal blanket, which she'd left untouched at the foot of her bunk. When she'd gone to sleep the previous afternoon, it had been far too hot for a covering of any kind.
Panaka had insisted that they conserve power and not use it unnecessarily, at least until they were assured of reaching Coruscant reasonably soon. This meant very little climate control on board. Sabé suspected that if he had to wear a fifty-kilo gown, a stifling headdress, and a thick layer of face paint, he would not be so keen to endure the heat. But now she desperately wished she was wearing all that get-up. It was freezing.
She tossed and turned for quite some time, but could not get comfortable enough to fall back to sleep. When she looked at the chrono, she realized she'd been asleep for nearly nine hours.
Quietly, so as not to wake the other two girls, Sabé slipped out of bed and found the queen's heaviest robe and a pair of slippers. Then she stole through the door into the cold, silent corridors.
She remembered learning in school that desert climates were often as cold during the night as they were hot during the day, but she was surprised to find it was true here. Surely a place with two suns should be able to retain enough heat to keep the nights comfortable. But she was suddenly excited about the cold, for it had given her an idea.
When she reached the gangplank, she lowered it, and held her breath as it went down, hoping the sound wouldn't waken anyone. A draft of the chilly night air vented up to strike her face, and she drew the robe more closely around her, descending the ramp as she did so.
A short, quick run took her a couple meters clear of the ship's obstruction and she gazed up with satisfaction at the stars. It was just as she'd hoped. The low temperature and the dryness of the planet's atmosphere made the stars far more bright and clear than they ever were on Naboo, even on the coldest winter night. Of course, she'd seen stars much more clearly from space, but she'd always enjoyed looking at them better from the ground. Perhaps it was because she was not enclosed by a ship on all sides.
Sabé gave a deep, happy sigh, and just stood with her face in the wind, enjoying the sight. After a few moments, she barely noticed the cold. Her eyes drank in the spangled sky, and a sense of wonder and smallness overcame her.
"Are you up there, Mama?" she whispered. "Are you dancing, like we asked? Maybe you are dancing by Tatooine right now. Maybe you are watching over us. Please watch over Padmé, if you are here. And send our love back to Daddy and Richard and Claria."
Her eyes admired the smooth lines created by the piles of sand all around her. In the bright starlight, their shapes were soothing and strangely beautiful. Everything was so silent and peaceful. The beauty and wonder was most invigorating.
"Your Highness," said a quiet voice at her elbow.
Sabé was so surprised that she jumped and would have screamed, had a firm hand not covered her mouth quickly, stifling the sound.
"It is only I," the voice whispered. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. You need to be quiet, Your Highness. There are some things in this desert whose attention I should like to avoid. And not just animals either. Will you come back to the ship now?"
The magic of her reverie was broken. She nodded, since his hand over her mouth still prevented her from speaking. Then he let her go, and she followed him somewhat sulkily back to the ship.
"How did you know where I was?" she asked stiffly as he raised the gangplank again.
"I heard this opening," he said, gesturing to the rising ramp. "I wasn't sure if it was someone leaving or someone trying to get in."
"Did anyone else waken?"
"No, I told Captain Panaka I would keep watch."
Relief flooded through her. She did not really feel like enduring a lecture from Panaka. "I apologize for disturbing you, Padawan Kenobi."
"You may call me Obi-Wan, Your Highness," he said. "I believe it must be tiring for everyone to continually address me as 'Padawan Kenobi'."
She nodded her head. "Very well, Obi-Wan."
"May I ask what prompted this little adventure, Your Highness?" he asked as they walked slowly down the corridor.
"I could not sleep," she replied. "I needed some fresh air."
"I see," he said. "Well, as I have been placed in charge of your safety, I must ask that in the future you inform me before making any such decisions."
Sabé closed her eyes, and forced herself to count to ten, trying to diffuse her annoyance. She was always defensive when anyone tried to tell her what to do, as if they knew better. But Eirtaé was right about one thing. She had to be careful of how she conducted herself when she was representing Amidala. "What sort of creatures were you worried about?" she finally asked.
"The ship's records list many dangerous desert beasts. There are also local tribes of a nomadic warrior society known as the Tusken Raiders. They are prone to sudden violence, I fear."
And I was just standing out there in the open like a brainless ninny, she thought sourly. That was really smart, Sabé.
"Then I thank you for your initiative, Obi-Wan. It was foolish of me to be so bold in a strange place. I promise to confer with you or Master Qui-Gon more readily in the future."
"Or with Panaka," he added. "Your Captain is a very diligent man when it comes to his duty. He knew about the Tusken Raiders even before I did."
"Of course," she agreed through gritted teeth. Singing Panaka's praises was difficult for her, no matter how well deserved they were. "Obi-Wan, would you join me in the galley for a cup of caf? I have some questions I should like to ask you regarding this mission."
"Of course, Your Highness."
When she'd prepared the caf and they were settled at the tiny galley table, she posed her question. "I have pondered over this a great deal, and have come to no satisfactory conclusion. But perhaps the Jedi might have a better insight. Why is it, do you think, that the Trade Federation chose to invade Naboo over another planet? I can think of no obvious reason that satisfies me."
He was quiet for a long time, running his finger along the rim of his caf-cup, as if lost in thought. Finally he spoke. "My master asked me the same question as we were coming into orbit over Naboo. We've discussed it at some length, and…I'm afraid that in this case Jedi wisdom is no better than a queen's. It makes no sense to me either."
Sabé sighed in frustration. She knew the problem had plagued the queen as much as it had her, and she'd seen an opportunity to help. There was still something odd about the way the blockade had occurred that was pestering her. If she could latch on to the thought, perhaps it would give some insight. But it was elusive as a spider-eel.
"Thank you for your candor, Obi-Wan." They drank in silence for a few moments, pondering. Then she suddenly asked, "Perhaps you can tell me what occurred before you came to us. How was it your negotiations failed?"
"I'm sorry to say, Your Highness, that our arrival seems to have been the catalyst for the Federation to begin its invasion. However… we saw the troops and ships already prepared. They had to have been anticipating the action long before we arrived. I fear we just accelerated the plan." He briefly told her what had befallen him and Master Qui-Gon aboard the Federation command ship.
"Strange," she muttered. "Every indication points to the blockade being much more than just a protest of a law. And so pre-orchestrated. There's something much deeper going on here."
"You have a fine grasp on the political, Your Highness."
Sabé gave him an appraising look. "Of course I do. Do you think the Naboo foolish in their choice of monarch?"
"Not at all, forgive me."
"It is true, I am younger than most. When my mother died, I was obligated to run for the throne at a much earlier time than I had been preparing for. The Naboo made their choice, and I will fulfill my duty to them. But what I've always really wanted to do is be an offworld ambassador."
"Perhaps when your term is up you may serve Naboo thus."
"Perhaps." Then she added eagerly, "You yourself have often served in an ambassadorial capacity, I understand."
He nodded. "From time to time. An ambassador wielding a lightsaber is more readily complied with, I'm afraid." He laughed quietly. "That is why, Your Highness, should you be successful in your aspirations, you will be more admirable. For you will do so with the power of persuasion behind you, rather than steely discipline."
These words, coming from such a seasoned warrior as Kenobi, yet so in line with Sabé's own feelings on violence and weapons, caused a strange, warm pride to fill her. "I truly hope so," she finally said.
There was another silence as they once again focused on drinking their caf. When the Jedi had finished his, he cocked his head, and studied her face curiously.
"Has anyone ever told you that you look a great deal like the handmaiden Padmé?" he asked.
A sudden chill of alarm flashed through Sabé's entire body at lightning speed. She reached up to feel her smooth, naked cheek and let out a quiet gasp. "Oh my stars," she muttered under her breath. All this time she had totally forgotten she wasn't in her royal guise. She turned panicked eyes on Kenobi. "How long till sunrise?"
"About an hour and a half?" he replied. There was a knowing twinkle in his eye.
She stood up abruptly. "If you'll excuse me, Padawan…er, Obi-Wan, I must go prepare for the day." And I must make sure I don't run into Panaka in the corridor. He'll have my hide if he sees me wandering around like this.
She paused when she reached the galley's door and turned back. "Thank you again for your forthrightness, Obi-Wan." She hesitated before adding, "Padmé is my twin sister."
She rushed back to the cabin, praying that Rabé and Eirtaé had not yet awakened, and wondering why she had just divulged such an important secret to a stranger.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I'm bored," Sabé declared to the silence of midday.
"So go outside," Rabé said without looking up from the cabin's computer monitor, where she was reading a news article.
Sabé sighed. "For that I'd have to put on the makeup."
"Then stop whining."
Flinging herself onto her back with a scowl, Sabé stared at the underside of Padmé's bunk above her, trying to think of something to do that she wasn't already sick to death of doing.
"Oh, look, there was a race today in Mos Espa," Rabé spoke up, scanning through her article. "Just wrapped up about an hour ago."
"Mos Espa?"
Rabé favored Sabé with an appraising look. "For someone who says she wants to do offworld work someday, you sure aren't taking a strong interest in this new planet, Princess. Mos Espa is the settlement where Padmé went with Master Qui-Gon and Jar Jar."
"Aha. And what race are you talking about?"
Sabé leaned back on her hands and cocked an eyebrow. "And this interests you?"
Rabé smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "A little. Anyway, it would have been interesting to see." She looked regretful. "Too bad we missed it. It says here that this race was particularly eventful, because it's the first time in recorded pod-racing history that a human has ever won a race. Kind of makes you proud, huh?"
"Oh, extremely," Sabé agreed, rolling her eyes.
Sabé was spared from further humoring of Rabé's whims by the soft hiss of the cabin door. "Look who I found," said Eirtaé, poking her head in with a smile, and stepped back to reveal Padmé just behind her.
Sabé leapt off the bed to embrace her sister, relieved to see her safe. Despite having the protection of a Jedi Master, Sabé had been uncomfortable with Padmé being gone so long, and with not knowing what she was up to. Padmé sat down wearily on the bunk. "You will not believe what Qui-Gon did. I could have strangled him, Jedi or no Jedi." She paused, noticing the holo of the pod-racer that was still hovering above the projector. "That's Anakin's pod," she said curiously. Rabé and Sabé shared a surprised glance. "Anakin?" Sabé repeated.
Padmé closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, as if trying to shake a distraction and gather her thoughts. "Anakin is a slave we met. Just a little boy. He helped us get the money we needed for our parts."
"What?" Eirtaé asked.
"A slave?" cried Sabé at the same time.
Padmé glanced between the two of them, amused. "It's a long story. Sabé, you'd better start getting dressed. I'm sure that Qui-Gon will wish to speak with you as soon as he gets back."
"Where did he go?" Sabé asked, already unraveling the single, thick braid in which her hair was bound.
"Honestly," said Padmé, "I don't want to know. He's been a regular thorn in my boot for this whole trip. But we got the parts. Padawan Kenobi is installing them now."
"Oh, he asked that you just call him Obi-Wan," said Sabé. "Well, technically he asked me, but you know what I mean." Rabé and Eirtaé both gave her strange looks at this comment, probably wondering when he had told her that. She wisely had not told anyone about her little early-morning chat with Obi-Wan, and her real face bared to the whole ship.
While Sabé dressed, Padmé told the girls all that had befallen her in her desert jaunt. "I wish I could thank Anakin properly," she said quietly when she'd finished. She seemed to be almost speaking for her own benefit. "Naboo owes him much."
Sabé looked up from her indigo-colored gown, where she had been straightening the pleats of the full skirt, to catch a fleeting glimpse of intent thought crossing Padmé's face. Her hands paused on the fabric. This child must have truly made an impact on Padmé, if he caused her to have that look on her face. When Padmé took something to heart, she gave it all her passion, with the highest level of devotion she could attain. This attribute served her well on her throne, for she had always had a thirst to right injustice. The present fervor in her eyes said quite clearly that Anakin's enslavement was an injustice she would see righted, however long it took. Feeling as if she had somehow intruded, Sabé quickly turned her attention back to her pleats as if she had not seen.
"Shouldn't you get changed also?" Sabé asked when she'd finally finished her ensemble. Rabé, as usual, had helped her with the headdress and Eirtaé with the makeup. She was far too unskilled to achieve either feat alone.
"Not yet. I want a quick word with Captain Panaka, and then I have to get a shower." As they left the cabin and started down the corridor, she added. "We'll probably want to just stick this outfit in a bag somewhere. I think I brought half the sand of Mos Espa back with me." To demonstrate, she lightly slapped her side and a faint cloud of dust and sand came away from her plain tunic.
Noting that there was no one else in the corridor, Sabé leaned closer to Padmé and said softly, "There was a transmission from Naboo while you were gone. Be sure to ask Panaka about it. I suppose you'll want to watch it yourself later. I'm not sure, but…" Her words were suddenly cut off by a frantic cry coming from the direction of the gangplank.
"Help! Qui-Gon is in trouble!"
"Anakin," murmured Padmé incredulously, and hurried past Sabé to the Cruiser's central hub. The handmaidens followed quickly in her wake.
"Anakin, what are you doing here?" she asked intently, dropping to her knees in front of a short, sandy-haired boy and placing her hands on his arms.
"Padmé, we have to start the ship!" he cried, shaking free of her grip, and looking around desperately. "There's something attacking Qui-Gon. He said we should take off!"
Padmé nodded, standing up as quickly as she'd gotten down, and began leading the boy towards the cockpit. "Perhaps you should go strap in, Your Highness," she called over her shoulder to her handmaidens. Sabé heartily agreed.
Once again, they were forced to wait in the stark, windowless receiving room, hoping that whatever conflict had just befallen them would soon be overcome. Sabé found it terrifying to put so much blind faith in others, mostly because it forced her to acknowledge her helplessness in this case. She couldn't fly, and she certainly couldn't fight, unless one counted her fledgling experience with a blaster.
This time, however, their wait was not as long as before. About three minutes later, Padmé, looking slightly pale, returned with Jar Jar Binks in tow. "A creature attacked Qui-Gon on his way back," she said. "I think… it must have been tracking us. But I don't understand…"
"Don't understand what?" Rabé prompted.
Padmé turned a quizzical gaze on the handmaiden. "It fought with a lightsaber. I didn't think anyone but Jedi fought with lightsabers. But this thing wasn't a Jedi. It frightened me." She shivered.
"Dissen warrior muy bombad," Jar Jar added. He looked even more nervous and out of place than usual. "Tis good da Jedi issen more bombad. Wesa been all crunched for sure, mesa tinks, wid no Jedi."
At the sound of approaching footsteps, Padmé slipped smoothly behind the throne. The two Jedi, the boy, and several guards, including Panaka, all filed into the room to stand before her.
"Your Highness," said Qui-Gon with a very graceful bow, "I am pleased to report that we were able to acquire the parts necessary to continue our journey, and are now well on our way to Coruscant."
"Thank you, Master Jedi. Your assistance has been greatly appreciated."
"May I present Anakin Skywalker. He was instrumental in aiding us on our quest."
"Handmaiden Padmé has told me of your valiant efforts, Anakin Skywalker," Sabé told him with a nod. "Naboo is most grateful. Thank you."
To her amused delight, he seemed a little embarrassed. "No problem, Your Highness," he muttered, smiling up through a blush. His eyes were very blue and his smile was warming.
"How long is the journey to Coruscant, Master Jedi?" Sabé asked Qui-Gon, turning back to him.
"Three days, Your Highness."
Three days. Three long, tedious, idle days with nothing to do but fret. She knew that had the handmaidens been alone, they would have all shared a displeased groan.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*