Hello everyone! I must say, I am having so much fun with this story. Writing things from this perspective, and getting to develop these characters is enjoyable! I hope you like this newest chapter... we'll be getting to, 'The Phantom Menace,' soon!
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.
It is all fun and games until someone kicks you in the ribcage.
This, unfortunately, has occurred one too many times during my training at the RNSF headquarters ─ which is situated, conveniently, within walking distance of the Royal Palace and the Academy. I have stumbled, many a time, into my bed whilst holding a bacta patch to various parts of my body.
After receiving that message about joining their Youth Security Training Program, I spent weeks debating the pros and cons of what may lie before me.
Pro: I'd be trained to defend myself and others, which I know will come in handy concerning future events.
Con: I'd see my family even less than I already do.
Pro: I'd get to, possibly, travel the galaxy if I make it into the highly coveted occupation of Royal Handmaidenship.
Con: If I don't get into said occupation, they may assign me as a pilot ─ and I'm a horrid flier.
Pro: I've heard the Royal Palace kitchens have amazing food.
Con: I may not have much time to enjoy previously mentioned amazing food.
And so forth and so on… eventually, my datapad list grew to the point of needing to delete obsolete files. Rabelle was an excellent sounding board for me during this time, which led to a greater surprise this evening as I moan into my pillow about sadistic training officers.
"Honestly, Sabina, is it truly that bad?"
I lift my head away from my pillow long enough to send a scathing glare in Rabelle's direction. "Do you know what it's like to have your ribs throbbing in concert? I do." I drop my head once more.
I fail to mention the fact I was goofing off during training, which led to my newest injury. I'd been in the midst of my recently honed impersonation of Mali Nightbreak, the newest local holenewscaster, ("Stars, would you look at the hemline on the Princess of Theed's gown? It is dazzling ─ dazzling!") then had my backside handed to me by Lieutenant Typho. He did apologize profusely, before sending me to the RNSF medcenter. The nurses know me by name now.
Then again, I have spent enough time with them over the past three years.
"If you dislike it so much: why are you doing it? It seems to me you could pursue a more, shall we say, peaceful career?"
I lift my head again, pondering her words with furrowed brows. "I… can't really explain it. Even if the training officers are incredibly hard-nosed, and I've become acquainted with the texture and taste of bacta in a way I never thought possible, it still feels right. Like that scene in the holodrama you like so much about the Rodian and the Aqualish─"
"Oh! The one where they face off against the horde of rakghouls with only a hydrospanner and a faulty blaster, to defend their right to love each other after their families exiled them? I adore that holoseries. I wish it had not been canceled."
Rabelle has a talent for finding obscure, doom-to-be-cancelled holoseries.
"Um… I was referring to their lesser-known moment where they walk into the empty warehouse and decide to open a medcenter, but your scene is just as poignant." I roll over onto my back and wince at the soreness I feel, well, everywhere. "They knew it was what they're supposed to do and─I still don't know if this makes sense─being in this program seems like the right thing for me."
Rabelle is uncharacteristically quiet while I begin stretching my legs, counting at least ten bruises on my left shin alone. I am in the midst of counting my bruise collection on my right when she says: "I got a message from the RNSF, too."
"What!?" I sit up, curse once and then twice for good measure, and then turn towards her. "When did this happen?"
"About a week ago," She passes her datapad for me to read over the message that's nearly identical to the one I received, "You're the first person I've told."
"Not even your parents?"
She shakes her head. "No. I'm not sure which will be more difficult: telling them that I've been approached, or telling them I'm going to join."
"You're joining!?" Suddenly, all the aches and pains I've been feeling begin to fade. My best friend is coming with me! Before I can wrap her up in a hug, a thought occurs to me. "But what about the Grand Theater or cosmetology? It's all you've talked about since we met."
"Think about it, Sabina. You're on the track to become a Royal Handmaiden, right?" I nod. "What exactly do you think is in the job description?"
I begin reciting the list I'd memorized. I can visualize it before me, like watching a holoset. "Attending the monarch's needs whilst utilizing specialized security skills, diplomacy, and the ability to serve without promise of public awareness or accolades;"
"If things keep going the way they are in Theed, we will likely have a Queen. Especially with that girl ─ Amidala, I think is her name? ─ rising in office. Do you know the training we'll receive for applying cosmetics, designing and outfitting, and hairdressing? I could take this route and completely bypass cosmetology school."
My stomach flips at the thought of Padmé in her recently appointed office as Princess of Theed. I'm not certain about the exact timeline of when she will be elected Queen, but with the growing opposition to King Veruna it won't be much longer. Maybe a year or two, if I'm being generous.
Also, though the thought of having Rabelle with me is exciting, this means she will be at a greater risk once the Trade Federation invades. I am rather protective of the people I care about and do not want her to be in danger.
"Sabina? You're off in space again," I shake my head, forcing my worrisome thoughts away for the moment. "Sometimes I wonder where your mind goes when you're so quiet."
"You don't want to know, trust me." I attempt a bright grin, hoping it appears genuine and not panicked. "If you're going to join the RNSF with me, does this mean you'll help me learn how to braid?"
At Rabelle's delighted squeal, I suspect I'll be an expert in hairstyling shortly.
What can go wrong?
"Trainees,
It has come to our attention that a certain few amongst the current roster have taken to impersonating various diplomatic figures. While such creativity and talent may be considered admirable, it is not appropriate during a Galactic relations symposium hosted by the Honorable Senator Palpatine.
If such activities continue, there will be demerits issued and a meeting with the Disciplinary Board immediately following. If you witness any further insulting impersonations, please bring all concerns to your lead training officer.
Captain Magneta of the Royal Naboo Security Force "
-RNSF memo delivered to all Youth Security Training Program recruits.
"I can't believe you did that."
"Did you see the look on Panaka's face? Priceless!"
"I'd give all my credits if anyone captured that on holovid."
These are all statements said to me as I walk down the hallway.
My reputation as, 'Silly Sabina,' has taken on a new light after enduring the recent symposium mandatory for all trainees. I didn't exactly intend to start a competition between the trainees seated in my row, but circumstances being what they were (read: horrifically boring) led to a round of, "Guess-Who-I-Am," the likes I've never seen before.
We were being quiet about it, or so I thought until the filming droid superimposed our laughter onto the holoscreen in the midst of my Palpatine impersonation.
Panaka nearly had a stroke.
"Your impression of Palpatine is a little off, Sabina. You always make him sound sort of… I don't know, diabolical and wicked." Sachra, a trainee a few years younger than Rabelle and I, comments as we depart the disciplinary hearing. I'll be scrubbing databases clean for months. "He seems like a really nice man."
I can't explain what the man truly is, without the lingering possibility of being committed for insanity, so I try to point out his creepier mannerisms as often as possible. "Have you seen the way he stares at people? It's like he's trying to read their mind, or think of the best way to manipulate them with said person being none the wiser. Don't be fooled by the nice act!"
"Next time you begin ranting about conspiracy theories, let me have at least one cup of caf beforehand." Rabelle grumbles. She, by way of unfortunate association, had been drawn into the disciplinary hearing as well. "Don't even get her started on Trade Federation pay rates."
"Think about it: how does the Trade Federation get away with paying their employees essentially nothing? You know that any plasma they harvest from Naboo is being sold at astronomical amounts to neighboring systems, despite the laws in place here to prevent price-gauging, yet a simple search on the HoloNet reveals most TF employees have to work second or third jobs to make ends meet! It is a horrendous, immoral─"
"Oh, why did I even bring it up?" Rabelle moans. "I know better than this."
"It's a serious issue! Next thing you know, the Trade Federation will try to sink their claws further into our home to gain a monopoly on the plasma industry." I also have a tendency to point out every negative thing I can about the Trade Federation, for obvious reasons.
"Careful, Sabina," Sachra grins. She thoroughly enjoys my, 'theories,' and encourages me to speak about them as often as possible. "You're starting to sound like Princess Amidala. Are we going to see you protest King Veruna in the streets with the rest of her entourage?"
"Ha! We all know that neither of us have time to protest." I was barely juggling my schoolwork and training as is. "I have to master the Nova Sundari-style hairdo by the end of this week or I will fail the hairdressing portion of our training miserably."
"I think you're not using the cage correctly," Rabelle comments as we step into the streets of Theed. "It's meant to be the foundation of the hairstyle, without too much pinning."
"It's a kriffing rectangle! Why would anyone in their right mind want to walk around looking like the end of a vacuuming unit!?"
Rabelle and Sachra share a look before the latter runs to a nearby booth. I would comment, had I not become accustomed to her tendency to disappear like that. She returns momentarily and places sticky-buns in our hands.
"Here, I think we all need to eat something before Sabina's head explodes."
"Hmm?" They burst into laughter at my puffy cheeks. I've already eaten half of my sticky-bun. I forgot this booth was so close to RNSF headquarters, I need to buy these more often.
"Did you hear about Legislator Eirtani vying for election? She may even go against Princess Amidala." Sachra has a never ending interest in current political events. I think if I didn't know already know about what the future holds, her predictions would more than make up for it.
"She's the one from the Royal House of Learning, right?" Rabelle asks curiously. We all share an eye roll. The House of Learning is our rival school. "She may be tough competition, if that's the case."
"I don't know about that. The Princess has a following from multiple groups, even if Eirtani is backed by King Veruna."
"But King Veruna hasn't been very popular as of late, especially with his term running for so long… " Rabelle's voice trails off as a breaking news icon flashes on holosets all around us. Other passersby pause in the midst of their travels as we listen to Mali Nightshade's urgent report. The woman looks uncharacteristically somber, with far less glitter eyeshadow applied than normal.
"It has come to our attention here at Theed News A-27 that King Veruna has abdicated from his role as Naboo's monarch. We have not received confirmation from the Royal Advisory Council, but it is suspected that now former King Veruna's abdication is linked to rumors of corruption within Foreign Affairs. This will call for an emergency election, as he has not finished his term to completion."
"Stars… " Rabelle whispers. "Do you have any theories about this one, Sabina?"
I remember reading a book about Darth Plagueis and his involvement with the monarchs of Naboo. It won't be long before King Veruna is murdered by the Sith Lord himself. The thought sends shivers down my spine. Palpatine's manipulations are only beginning.
"My theory is… we may have the opportunity to be Royal Handmaidens sooner than we thought."
I return to my dormitory floor, after a haphazard week of election and political debates that make my head spin, and see my entire fellow Suns glued to the holeset in our common area. I claim the last chair and watch as the election results tabulate.
"Amidala is going to win, she has to."
"Your head's up in space, Kera, Eirtani comes from a long line of galactic legislators."
"That doesn't mean she'll be a good Queen."
"What makes you think Amidala will be any better?"
I plaster my hand to my face and drag it downwards. I can't wait for this election to be over with, if only to end the constant bickering on my floor. It's impossible to log into our student social platform without seeing some sort of vicious argument.
"Shush, you two! They're about to announce the winner."
"No they're not. It will take hours before they factor in the votes from the mountain regions. It takes them a full sun rotation to send anything over."
"I resent that remark," comments Rabelle, who is from the mountain regions and happens to be very proud of them.
"Don't get me started on the Kaadarians, they're too busy sleeping on the beach." She smiles at my attempt at humor, considering how many times I'd ranted about those very stereotypes.
The eldest in our dorm, Ruwi (Vella was offered an amazing science scholarship at Theed University a few years back. Part of me still wonders if she sliced the scholarship database.) hands me a bag of chocolate covered caf beans and whispers: "Take these, it's going to be a long night."
I thank her and eat the caf beans slowly, knowing I could polish off a bag in one sitting if I'm not careful. This kind of snack mixed with my fifteen-and-a-half-year-old energy levels can be chaotic at best.
My datapad blinks rapidly with messages from Sachra, Halleth, Rabelle, Mom and Dad, and Jerek. Each provides an interesting perspective on the election as it goes on. I may or may not have started a group link, just to see their personalities mix:
Halleth: Is it over yet? I have a report on biochemical reactions within houseplants due in the morning.
Jerek: Stars, Averna. You didn't say your sister's a genius, too.
Me: I can never hope to live up to her levels of intellect.
Halleth: Are you that boy Sabina mentioned?
Jerek: Ohhhh… Sabina talks about me, huh?
Halleth: The one who got sick on an airbus after visiting the plasma refinery in Theed?
Jerek:…..
Mom: Sabina, why did you start a group link? You know how I feel about those. Your father won't even respond beyond sending short holovids on loop.
Dad: *attachment of Kowakian monkey-lizards dressed in Senatorial robes*
Me: *laughed at attachment of Kowakian monkey-lizards dressed in Senatorial robes*
Dad: I have no idea what you are talking about.
Mom: I rest my case.
Sachra: I think I like your family, Silly Sabina. You should bring them to the next training symposium.
Dad: *attachment of group of Ithorians, blinking rapidly*
Jerek: Haha, Silly Sabina. I forgot about that nickname for a moment. Thanks for reminding me, Sachra. You're not so bad, for being a Moon.
Sachra: Don't insult my dorm house, moon jockey.
Me: Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all…
Rabelle: Why did you include me in this? I'm in the same room as you.
Hours later, somewhere around 0300 GST, I am shaken awake by a hand on my shoulder. Rubbing my eyes in an attempt to clear the grit, my vision eventually focuses on the holoset in front of me. The filming droids capture areas all over Naboo as they celebrate the election of Queen Amidala.
All the girls in my dorm begin to talk animatedly, some waving their hands in excitement. I look to Rabelle, who has her hand over her mouth, eyes wide and unblinking.
The Queen's face fills the holoscreen. Padmé, whom I have yet to meet but feel as if she's a long lost friend, is already dressed in full regalia. Her makeup is flawless. Her face looks serene. Underneath it all, however, I know she has to be excited beyond belief.
Rabelle, Sachra, and I had taken up a game of saying elaborately positive things about our future careers as Royal Handmaidens. It isn't long before Rabelle lets her hand slip, revealing a blinding smile and saying: "She's going to be a wonderful Queen to serve. I bet she doesn't like the Nova Sundari-style hairdo."
"Stars, I hope not."
The most nerve wracking experience I've had was my entrance exams into the Academy. Far worse than any of the training, examinations, assignments, and research projects I've undertaken to date.
Being here is so much worse.
We received the royal summons to the Palace this morning. Rabelle and I have hardly spoken two words out of anxiety.
Queen Amidala has chosen, with the recommendation of newly promoted Captain Panaka, the girls who have applied for Royal Handmaidenship. There are others like Rabelle, Sachra, and I who have participated in the Youth Security Training Program in hopes of having a better chance of acceptance but I see other girls in the group who have come from all over Naboo.
Even Eirtani, after suffering a defeat in the recent election, is here to my left; looking regal, poised, and altogether unaffected. Rabelle, to her left, keeps shifting on her feet. Sachra, on my right, has her brightest smile on.
I, on the other hand, probably look like I swallowed sour blue milk.
"Trainees and applicants, your credentials and accomplishments have spoken well of your intelligence, ability, and talent." Amidala's royal accent sounds more intimidating in person, even with the knowledge that Padmé lies beneath the façade. "This is a testament to your diligence and hard work. You are to be commended."
I'm going to be sick, like Jerek on the airbus.
"I will call out the names of those who will primarily serve in the Royal Palace first."
My heartbeat quickens at the thought of being a Palace Handmaiden. To live in the place I've longed for even before I was reborn… it's almost overwhelming. I don't care if I likely don't stand a chance as a Lead Handmaiden; especially if Panaka has passed on his stellar opinion of me to Amidala. Just the option of being close to history in the making will be plenty for me.
The Queen announces eight names and my stomach sinks further and further as mine isn't called. I'm not a Palace Handmaiden. My chances of working here are shot to space dust.
The eight girls who have been chosen are grouped together on the other side of the room with an austere looking woman in modest, classically draped robes. I assume she is the one who will be administrating their work.
It hits me that Rabelle and Sachra haven't been chosen either. A quick glance to my right shows that Sachra's smile has completely faded.
Surely she'll pick one of us after all of our hard work!
"The Lead Handmaidens are expected to not only fulfill their responsibilities to me, but to assist the Palace Handmaidens should the occasion arise. Those who are chosen have demonstrated an array of capabilities that prove they will perform their duties admirably." Queen Amidala takes a moment to meet each and every one of our gazes before continuing. I straighten my posture when her eyes narrow ever-so-slightly in my direction.
"Yanil Sarma," the smallest and youngest looking of our group steps forward. I hear Rabelle gulp from beside Eirtani. The girl in between us looks less composed and far more nervous than before.
"Rabelle Makia." I send my happiest smile in her direction even as she moves to stand beside Yanil. Her hand is over her mouth in shock.
"Sabina Averna." My mouth falls open before I can stop it. I made it! I really made it! Stars above, I'm a kriffing Lead Handmaiden! Take that Panaka!
Oh… he's nodding in agreement. Maybe he doesn't hate me after all?
I join Rabelle and Yanil, hoping and praying for Sachra's name to be spoken next. I try not to slump when Queen Amidala calls out: "Eirtani Wendin."
There are six girls remaining, each of them in various states of blushing in anger, or mouths quivering from holding in their tears. Sachra, that brave, brave girl, continues to hold her head high despite the redness traveling down her neck. There's only one spot left…
Come on Sachra, no one deserves this more than you.
"Sachra Saynel."
Rabelle and I breathe a huge sigh of relief as Sachra steps forward. Part of me is still in a state of utter disbelief, not only had I been chosen as a Lead, so had two of my close friends. I'm not certain how this is possible but I am not going to complain at all.
The guards escort the five remaining hopefuls out of the chamber and my heart breaks for their sadness. I can only hope they will find something that will bring them joy.
Thirteen Handmaidens, an Administrator, a Captain, and a Queen are all that remain. The tension that permeated the room begins to lift as light filters through the ornate, transparisteel windows. When I look towards the Queen I see the slightest lift in her mouth, as if she knows something we don't.
"Handmaidens, now that you have been chosen, you will begin your training regiment," More training!? "As well as prepare for the Inaugural Ceremony next week." Captain Panaka gives each of us a new datapad, datalocked to either our DNA or personal codes. "I expect your behavior and service will be of the highest caliber." I see that glare in my direction, Panaka, I see it!
"It is also expected of Royal Handmaidens to accept a new name, in honor of the Queen herself and for protection of those you are personally connected to. Should you choose to revert back to your given name after your service is concluded, there will be no consequences."
We then, unfortunately, go through a long, arduous process of selecting our monikers. No wonder my parents waited until after I was born to name me, this is somewhat ridiculous.
Instantly, a thought occurs to me and I want to kick myself at not realizing this before. All of Padmé's Handmaidens had names that rhymed with hers. Rabelle, shortened, is Rabé. Sachra can be changed to Saché. Mine can be… oh kriff. This only took me fifteen and a half years to figure out.
"Your Highness," I speak up, cutting the discussion off somewhat abruptly. "I apologize for the interruption, but what if we have a matching vowel?"
"Which one would you suggest, Handmaiden?" The Queen replies, her tone offering no inflection to suggest what she's thinking. I have a feeling that's going to be somewhat annoying.
"Well, the funny thing is, Your Highness, it seems to be popular amongst our generation to have names that end with, 'é,'" I ignore the incredulous looks Rabelle and Sachra are sending towards me. So what if I'm making this all up? "If we shorten our names it can be… " I widen my eyes in Rabelle's direction, silently urging her to help me out.
Also, I don't want to be responsible for renaming my friend.
"Rabé," she finally blurts out. "That's somewhat close to my original name, if you find that acceptable, My Queen."
Sachra, bless her, catches on quickly as she states a firm: "Saché. I never liked my birth name anyways."
Yanil clears her throat and straightens to her full height ─ an adorable sight, really. "Yané, I will choose Yané."
Eirtani is contemplative, her brow furrowed. I hope I haven't offended her by speaking about her potential new name without asking her opinion, or anyone else's for that matter. "As it were, Your Highness, Eirtani is a name that has been passed down from generation to generation. I'd like to see what the name, Eirtaé, will bring about."
All eyes turn to me and in that moment, the path I struggled to find becomes perfectly clear.
"Sabé. I think that name has a nice ring to it."
Let the names begin! (I apologize for the pun... I couldn't help myself.) Now Sabé has a better idea of what she's doing! Let's just hope it all works out for her. As always, thank you for reading and please feel free to leave a review!
