Chapter Two: Stranded
Space, Mid-Rim
14:34 CT
It was an hour or more before the four girls finally heard the turbo lift descending from the cockpit and footsteps in the hallway. The door of the throne room slid open, admitting Captain Panaka, the two Jedi, and a low-built astro droid covered from top to bottom in soot.
The Jedi stopped at a respectful distance and bowed deeply. "Your highness, allow me to introduce myself formally," Qui Gon said. "I am Qui Gon Jinn, and this is my padawan learner, Obi Wan Kenobi."
Sabe could have smirked at the irony, but she could reveal nothing. Fighting to keep her face impassive beneath the heavy makeup, she inclined her head as regally as she could. "You are well and most fortunately met, Master Jedi. I must express my deepest thanks for your assistance."
"As you have undoubtedly gathered," Panaka said, stepping forward, "We have been engaged in combat with the Federation's ships. We sustained damage to the shields and the hyper-drive, and would certainly have been destroyed if not for this little astromech. An extremely well put-together little droid, your Highness. Without a doubt it saved the ship as well as our lives."
Sabe looked at the droid curiously. It chirped like a bird. A tumultuous day, she thought, when one moment we are threatened and harassed by droids, and the next, rescued by them.
"It is to be commended," she said aloud. "What is its number?"
Captain Panaka bent and peered at the serial number just beneath the droid's dome cover. "R2-D2, your Highness."
Sabe smiled as the droid cooed, humanlike. "Thank you, R2-D2."
Then something occurred to her. "Padme."
Padme stepped from behind her where she had been standing quietly observing.
"Clean this droid up as best you can. It deserves our gratitude," Sabe said. She and Padme exchanged a secret smile as Padme walked to stand next to the droid.
"Continue, Captain," Sabe encouraged, dragging her eyes away from Padme to her advisors.
Captain Panaka nodded to Qui Gon, and the Master shifted on his feet. "Your highness, with your permission we are heading for a remote planet called Tattooine. It is a system far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation. There we will be able to make needed repairs, then travel on to Coruscant."
Sabe glanced at Padme. She was looking at her shoes beneath her hood, biting her lip.
"I do not agree with the Jedi on this," Panaka cut in. There were thunderclouds on his face as he regarded the Jedi.
"You must trust my judgment, your Highness," Qui Gon said nonchalantly.
Behind him, Padme raised her head and gave a little nod. Obi Wan caught the movement and looked at her sharply. Padme quailed before his look, bowed, and left the room with R2-D2 in tow.
"Very well," Sabe said imperiously, trying to draw Obi Wan's attention back to herself. "And how long do you expect before we reach this Tatooine?"
It was Obi Wan who replied this time. "About two hours, give or take," he said. It was apparent that something about her gave him pause. He had been studying her intently since the two Jedi had entered the receiving chamber.
Sabe did not allow her eyes to drop or her hands to fidget under his regard. Whether or not they eventually recognized her, she must keep up the ruse as long as possible. "Well, then, my handmaidens and I will retire. I expect you will apprise me as soon as we near Tatooine."
She rose, and Rabe and Eirtae came to stand beside her. "We must get to Coruscant as quickly as possible. The future of Naboo lies with you, Master Jedi."
The Jedi bowed again, Qui Gon with his eyes lowered respectfully. But Obi Wan's eyes never left her. A little flutter of trepidation touched Sabe, but she turned away before any evidence of it could give her away.
Sabe couldn't help walking a little more quickly as the throne room door shut behind them. Rabe and Eirtae were practically jogging to keep up with her as she crossed the two holds and moved quickly down the corridor leading to the Queen's private quarters. Once they were safely inside, Sabe leaned against the closed door with her eyes closed.
"Do you think they suspected?" Eirtae asked, helping Sabe to remove the heavy headdress. "That young one looked at you for an awfully long time."
"I don't know," Sabe ran nervous fingers through her hair, unknotting it and allowing it to fall down her back. "The Jedi are keen in their senses. They can sense feelings, intentions, sometimes even thoughts if they are fervent enough."
Sabe sank onto the bed, already exhausted from the cat-and-mouse game they seemed to be playing at. Rabe came and sat beside her. "You know them," she said. "Don't you? You knew the eldest one's name."
Sabe faltered. But she wasn't ready to answer the questions she would bring by answering honestly. "Only by reputation," she lied. "I recognized their fighting style from Combat class. Our teacher often discussed the styles of individual Jedi at length.
To Sabe's relief, the other girls seemed to accept her explanation without question. "I wouldn't know a parry from a thrust," Eirtae shrugged. "I suppose we all have our specialities."
Sabe blinked, wondering if it was true. Certainly Captain Panaka had made every effort to diversify their team. Eirtae, for instance, had a sharp technical mind and a knack for making sense of schematics that Sabe could not make heads or tails of. In addition, she had been a prize-winning marksman in her class at the academy. Rabe's healing skills were her best qualifier, though she had cut short her schooling for her duty to the crown. She was also a more than adequate fighter, and she was skilled at remembering the finer points of etiquette and procedure in the political arena. Yane and Sache were still fairly new, and their characters and abilities were not yet clear, but they were bright and eager and Sabe had no doubt they both had unique skills to offer.
But Sabe's biggest contribution was her likeness to Padme. Though she was an agile fighter, her skills with a blaster were only passable. She had no patience for politics and no head for protocol. Even her likeness to Padme was not perfect. Every time she looked in the mirror the differences seemed exaggerated to her. She bridged the gap with an illusion, focusing her mind on Padme's face, Padme's voice, and Padme's character. It was one of the few ways she was still able to use her abilities, and Rabe and Eirtae often remarked how oddly she seemed transformed when she was in disguise.
They were supposed to be a well-oiled machine, but Sabe felt she could not help keeping apart. Padme was the bright star they all orbited around, and when one or another got too close, there was inevitable tension with the others. Eirtae in particular had seemed to resent Sabe since the moment Captain Panaka selected her to be Padme's decoy. Sabe predicted a lot of awkward silence in the Queen's quarters if they were stuck on this ship for very long.
"How…how was I?" Sabe asked hesitantly.
Rabe and Eirtae looked up in surprise. "You did admirably well considering the scrutiny of those two Jedi," Rabe said. "And the fact that you look identical to Padme under all that makeup doesn't hurt either."
Sabe drifted to the mirror, loosening her gown. "You know, I've never really seen the resemblance."
"Well, you certainly act nothing alike," Eirtae muttered, lying across her bed with her datapad in front of her.
Rabe gave her a cold look. She smiled indulgently at Sabe. "When you are in costume, the resemblance is remarkable."
Sabe smoothed her skirt. "The padawan could see our interaction. He's watching us closely now."
"You'll have more prep time for tomorrow," Rabe comforted.
No such luck. As soon as they felt the bump of the ship settling onto the ground two hours later, Padme rushed into the room, and began hurrying between the closet and her bed, throwing clothing across it and undressing. "Qui Gon and the Gungun are leaving," Padme explained when she finally noticed them staring.
"Gungun?" Rabe said with a curl of her lip. Rabe's family was from the swampy area where most of the Gunguns lived. Sabe supposed even she was not without her prejudices.
"Yes," Padme replied shortly, pulling a rough gray tunic over her head and securing it around her waist. "He arrived with the Jedi. They are going to the nearby settlement, Mos Espa, to look for parts."
Sabe was beginning to see where this was going. "Yes," she said. "And what are you doing?"
Padme avoided her eyes as she pulled on a rugged pair of boots. "I'm going with them."
Sabe jumped from her seat on the bed. "Have you lost your mind?" she cried.
Padme gave her a level look. "Have you forgotten who you are working for?"
Sabe stiffened, but did not back down. "Our job is to protect you, My Lady, and by extension, protect Naboo. How can we do that if you are wandering a planet controlled by the Hutts?"
Padme's authoritarian air softened. "No harm will come to me. In spite of Master Jinn's cavalier air," She glowered, but continued. "…He is strong in the Force."
Sabe cast down her eyes. "As to that…" she gave Rabe and Eirtae a questioning look. "I do need to speak with you privately, My Lady."
Padme raised an eyebrow, but nodded to Rabe and Eirtae, who left the room. She turned back to Sabe. "What's on your mind?"
Sabe put her hand to her chin and turned away, pacing the room with a swish of the voluminous gown she wore. "It's about the Jedi, my lady. I do know them."
A pause. "How?"
Sabe sighed. "In Coruscant, at the temple. It was Qui Gon Jinn who brought me there."
Padme nodded. "Do you think they have recognized you?"
"I do not believe so, though Obi Wan appears to be already curious. You will find that he has a persistent nature, my lady. He may well figure out the ruse before you return."
Padme crossed her arms over her chest, considering. "Do you trust them?"
Echoes of old hurt made a tremor pass over Sabe's face. But it had never been a question of distrust. "Completely, my Lady,"
"Well," Padme said resignedly. "The more people who know a secret, the less likely it is to remain one. I know Jedi have the reputation of being discrete, but keep up protocol for now. If they figure it out…we'll just have to deal with it."
Sabe nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. Padme finished dressing and slung a bag over her shoulder.
"Padme," Sabe said, letting the formality go for the moment. "Please don't go. We know nothing of this planet. If you were caught --"
Padme's face was kind but determined as she placed her hands on Sabe's shoulders. "I know how you feel about this Sabe, and I appreciate your vigil. But really, I will be fine."
She walked toward the door. Sabe put a hand to her brow, massaging the spot where she felt a headache coming. "Padme," she called.
Padme stuck her head back in the door.
"The Force be with you," Sabe muttered.
A little furrow appeared between Padme's brows, but she forced a smile. "And with you, Sabe."
A training room.
The clash of sword meeting sword.
The fighters were far from evenly matched. The boy, a lanky teen with ginger-colored hair, moved with a skill beyond his years. In fact, there were signs that he restrained himself from engaging at his full abilities. His opponent, however, was a small tawny haired girl half his height. Her movements may have been less awkward than another child her age, but it was evident that she had rarely held a weapon before this spar.
"Feel the Force flowing through you," the teen instructed after once again lightly touching her side with his weapon, a composite practice staff. With a flick of his wrist he swung his staff back into readiness.
The girl expelled an irritated breath and adjusted back into the defensive stance he'd taught her earlier. She rocked on her feet, glaring him down, and then rushed him. The teen blocked her staff easily. She attempted to dart behind him and then spun on her toes, but he was already there, pushing her back seemingly without effort.
"You are wise to use my height against me," he commented as they continued to spar. "But always attempt to draw your opponent into striking the first blow."
The girl was barely listening. Her sword swings became choppy as she tried to advance on him and make him step back. But his feet remained rooted to the spot as if they had sprouted from the practice pad, and soon enough she had to skip backwards to avoid his sword.
Very slowly he began advancing. He was careful not to hurt her, but he was hard on her all the same. As she attempted to ward off his barrage of blows, her cheeks flushed and beads of sweat popped out on her forehead. Her swings became erratic, desperate. All at once her foot caught and she sprawled backwards, hitting the bare permacrete floor beyond the practice pad with a thump.
"Balance is as important in fighting as it is in life, youngling," said the boy.
The girl did not move. She lay spread-eagled, the practice staff still lightly grasped in her hand.
The teen's brows drew together. "Sabe?"
No response.
Concern mounted on his face and he knelt beside her. "Sabe?" The concern turned to panic. His master had trusted him to help her with fighting basics. If she was hurt –
Suddenly the girl's lips curved upward, and the hand that held the sword came up, tapping him on the neck with it. One brown eye opened. "Got you," she lisped softly.
His jaw dropped open. His expression was so comical that she did something no one in the temple had ever heard her do before – she giggled.
He sat back on his heels, amazed. "You sneaky little…"
Her giggling only increased.
"Very amusing, youngling," He said wryly. "Unfortunately that ploy will not work if your opponent does not care whether or not you have cracked your skull upon the floor."
The giggles turned to high-pitched guffaws. "Sour…grapes," she gasped.
His eyes widened even further. But instead of growing angry, a grin slowly spread across his face. "Very well then," he said slyly. "I suppose I shall have to resort to unconventional methods."
With that he began tickling her mercilessly.
"No!" she shrieked. "No – DON'T! Uncle!"
"Disrespect your elders, will you?" His onslaught continued.
"Cut it out, Obi Wan! Uncle!"
Sabe woke with a start. For a moment she could not remember where she was. She was hot and stiff, and her face was pressed against something. She raised her head and looked down at the book she'd dozed off on.
Economic Systems of the Middle Rim, by Svoi Lac'ti.
Sabe grimaced and replaced it in the shelf she'd pulled it from earlier out of sheer boredom. She straightened and looked around her.
Rabe was sewing in the corner, mending a tear she must have acquired during the flight from Theed. Eirtae was still spread over her bed, punching at her data pad with a frown of deep concentration on her face.
Sabe scrubbed at her eyes with her hands. "How long was I out?"
"An hour or two. You haven't missed much," Eirtae mumbled.
Sabe glanced in the mirror. Her hair was tangled, and her makeup was smeared. "Whoosh."
Rabe laughed. "Don't worry. We'll set you right before dinner."
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. They all looked at one another in panic, and Sabe quickly hid in the large wardrobe. She heard Rabe answer the door, and then the soft-spoken, accented voice she'd dreamt of a few moments earlier.
"Pardon me, but we have received what appears to be a message from Naboo."
Sabe couldn't believe it had only been a day since she'd last seen Sio Bibble. The bearded man looked on the holograph as if decades of suffering had marked his face.
"The death toll is catastrophic. We must give into them. You must contact me!"
The message flickered out. The air was heavy with everyone's anxiety. Even Captain Panaka's. Even Obi Wan's. Sabe gave up restraining her fidgeting hands, twisting the black velvet of her skirt between them.
Obi Wan stood from the bench where he'd been watching. "It's a trick," he said firmly. "Send no reply. Send no messages of any kind." He strode from the room without a backward glance.
"Where is he going?" Eirtae said in obvious outrage. "Not so much as a 'by your leave?'"
"To contact his master, probably," Sabe said. "He is as uncertain as we are."
"In any event," Captain Panaka said from behind her. "His advice is sound. Governor Bibble was probably forced to make that message at the point of a blaster."
"But could it be true?" Rabe said. "Sache and Yane?" Her voice trembled. "My parents?"
"There is no way of knowing," Panaka sighed.
"We have to remained focused for Padme's sake," Sabe urged.
"That's easy for you to say," Eirtae snapped. "You have no one waiting back on Naboo to worry about."
"Eirtae!" Rabe said
Sabe was surprised how much the comment stung. Her throat tight, she stood. "We'd better go and contact Padme."
Padme appeared dusty and tired on their comvid, dark circles under her eyes. Apparently, she and the others had nearly been caught in the sand storm that was now raging outside. "We have come through the storm unscathed with a family here in Mos Espa," she said.
"A family?" Eirtae enquired. They were all gathered around the small communications device, practically shoving one another to see.
"We encountered a young boy at the parts dealer's. When the storm was threatening, he was kind enough to offer us shelter at his home. He and his mother have made us feel very welcome," Padme said warmly. "How are things on the ship?"
"Tense," Sabe answered. "We have received word from Naboo."
"And?" Padme prompted.
"Padawan Kenobi said that it was a trick," Eirtae said hurriedly.
Padme was not deterred. "What was said?"
Rabe exchanged a frown with Sabe and Eirtae. "It was Governor Bibble. He described a state of chaos. Deaths."
The comvid was silent for so long that they though they had lost the signal.
"Padme?"
"We have to find a way to leave this forsaken rock." Padme's voice was thin over the uplink, but the intensity of her voice was not lost. The comvid clicked off.
No one could think of anything to say. There was nothing they could do to help Padme, nothing of value aboard the ship that they could take to her to trade.
Suddenly a shout went up from outside, and they all turned at the sound of running feet proceeding down the corridor. They nearly tripped over one another, each trying to get to the doorway first. It was Sabe who reached it. She pushed the button to raise the door and stuck her head out.
A young crewman was rushing out of the crew's quarters on the left. "Hey!" Sabe shouted, conscious suddenly that she was not in disguise. "What's happening?"
The young man turned, his face distracted. Sabe noticed the blaster gripped in his hand. "We're under attack!"
Sabe ran back into the Queen's quarters, grabbing her vibro blade and blaster from within the discarded royal gown on her bed. Hastily she jerked the hood of her cloak around her face. "Wait here!" she commanded Rabe and Eirtae.
"Sabe, no!" Eirtae shouted, but she was too late. Sabe ran down the corridor toward the ship's hold, where the exit ramp lay open.