Chapter 5 – Countdown
"Go away!"
Padmé's back was pressed against the door and her knees were tucked into her chest. Tears streamed down her face, ruining the makeup her servant had so meticulously applied that morning.
"Open this door, damnit!"
She pulled the collar of her dress over her face and shrieked into the fabric. The pounding on the door sent deep, rippling vibrations through her.
"I mean it, young lady! Open up, or else!"
Padmé shook her head, clawing at her forehead and leaving a pattern of little red dots in the flesh.
"I will break down this door! I swear, if you don't –"
The barking voice suddenly stopped. Another took its stead, far calmer and gentler.
"What seems to be the matter?"
Padmé leapt to her feet. She wrenched the door open and ran out into the hallway past the angry man.
"Papa!"
Palpatine was startled when she threw herself at him, grabbing onto his legs and hugging him as tightly as she could. He seemed to freeze, but after a moment of indecision he tentatively gave her head a pat.
"It's alright, Paddy. Calm down."
Sniffling, she released him and looked up to meet his concerned gaze.
"Tell me what happened."
"Sir –"
"I didn't speak to you," Palpatine snapped. His visage turned vicious when he looked past Padmé to the man who had been banging on her door. He stared him down for a moment before returning his attention to her.
"Mr. Eckman hit me!"
Palpatine narrowed his eyes when he saw her gesturing to the marks on her forehead. Rather than expressing horror, he smirked subtly.
"Did he now?"
"Yes!"
Palpatine shifted his gaze to the tutor. "Is this true?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Then how did she get this… injury?"
"Injury? What injury? I never touched her!"
Padmé spun around and pointed a finger at the man. "He lies! He lies, Papa! He lies like the Jedi!"
Palpatine's laugh was a low growl, dark and humorless. "Very well, my dear."
The tutor's eyes widened. "Wait –"
He didn't get another word out. Eyes bulging out of his sockets, the man was lifted into the air by his throat. Palpatine seemed to relish his suffering, his pearly-white teeth bared like a Nexu. Padmé shut her eyes tight and hid her face against Palpatine's pant leg.
She heard a heavy thud and Palpatine's voice whispered in her ear. "Keep your eyes closed, Paddy. Count to twenty. I'll be right back."
Padmé did as he asked. Hands held over her eyes, she rocked back and forth and counted out loud to herself as she had done so many times before.
"One… two… three…"
It had to happen. She had hated that tutor. He was terrible to her!
"Ten… eleven… twelve…"
But they only ever got worse, not better. How many tutors had she had? Five? Six? She couldn't keep track of them all. This one had only lasted two weeks.
"Eighteen… nineteen… twenty."
Palpatine returned exactly when he said he would. "Alright, Paddy. You can open your eyes."
She did so and looked up at him with a frown. "I lied, Papa. He didn't hit me."
"I know," was all Palpatine said. He placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her back to her room. Arriving at the bed, Padmé jumped on and folded her legs underneath her. Palpatine sat down by her side.
"You're not angry with me?" she asked.
Palpatine shook his head. "I'm proud of you, Paddy. You did what had to be done."
Padmé blinked a few times in astonishment. "Really?"
"Sometimes we must lie to achieve our ends," Palpatine told her. "Deception, trickery, coercion – these are but tools we have at our disposal. Use them shrewdly. Judiciously. She who seeks power must manipulate those around her – friends and foes alike. Information is her greatest asset along with her cunning. She controls it, distorts it, and finesses it. Do you understand?"
Padmé nodded. "Yes, Papa."
Palpatine smiled at her. "Good."
Δ Δ Δ
A blistery wind struck Padmé's exposed face as she stepped off the ramp. She grit her teeth and proceeded onward with Typho and Sabé at her flanks a step behind. Awaiting her at the end of the platform was Rush Clovis and a pair of Muun associates.
"Senator Amidala, welcome to Scipio."
The head of the Banking Clan bowed with a flourish of his hand. Padmé did not reciprocate the gesture, her eyes scanning the wintry horizon before settling on the fortress. A tall grey dome replicated the range of jagged summits in which the structure was proudly ensconced. This was the financial capital of the galaxy, and the grandiose architecture did not let one forget that fact.
"Captain Typho, stay with the ship."
"Very well, my lady."
"Sabé. With me."
The delegation before her parted when Padmé walked straight ahead with her hands held in front of her. Clovis was quick to fall into step.
"We are honored by your visit, Senator."
Clovis was speaking loudly, his pitch inflated and his tattooed forehead shining with flop sweat. His hands trembled underneath his long bishop sleeves. The sniveling fool had no idea what to make of her visit and was clearly terrified because of it.
Padmé shot him a dismissive look. "You have nothing to worry about, Clovis," she informed him bluntly.
They entered the fortress through a wide oval-shaped doorway. The hiss of the wind and bite of the air disappeared at once. Rubbing her hands together, Padmé turned on her heel to face Clovis directly. The ensemble behind them stopped in synchrony.
"I am not here on banking business," Padmé said. She glanced at the two Muuns who were glaring at her suspiciously. "I have something which I need to discuss with you and you alone. Your associates can be dismissed."
The Muun on the left bristled at this instruction. "You have no right –"
"It's alright," Clovis interjected. He spared his colleagues an apologetic look. "I can handle this on my own."
The two Muun seethed at Clovis. His appointment – or coup, more like – had not been taken kindly by the Muun who had long held unilateral authority over the banking clan. Clovis with his Coruscant-backing was an unwelcome imposition of Republic authority. But it was an imposition they had no choice but to cooperate with.
"Very well," they said in unison. They bowed stiffly before departing, their heavy footsteps echoing loudly in the high-ceilinged hall. Once they were finally gone, Padmé turned to Clovis with a flinty glower.
"Take me to your office," she ordered.
Clovis set his jaw, indignant at her imperious treatment of him. "I demand to know what this is about."
"You will learn soon enough."
"You will tell me now."
Padmé took a step forward and Clovis gulped. She may be diminutive in stature, but Padmé exuded an air of authority which could not be denied. Palpatine had taught her the art.
"Fine," Clovis snapped.
He spun around and marched down the hallway. Padmé allowed him to lead, more content to walk by Sabé's side a few feet behind. The handmaiden was a loyal companion. She never asked questions and lived to serve. It was a relief that Padmé didn't have to explain to her the reason for their abrupt trip to Scipio.
Sola and Jobal had been a different story, however. They had been insistent that Padmé at least give them a vague answer as to why she had to go. But she had held her ground. It was too dangerous for them to know her plans. After much tribulation, she had managed to convince them of that. Even so, Padmé felt bad. She had left without so much as a hug. With Ruwee, Darred, and the girls present, she had deemed it too much of a risk. Instead, she had made her leave with curt handshakes to the both of them.
They took a long ride in an elevator to the top floor of the fortress. When they arrived, the doors swung open and Clovis stepped out. His motions were rigid, anxious. Padmé smirked at the sight.
Arriving at reception area of Clovis' office, Padmé turned to her handmaiden. "Stay here and stay vigilant." She flicked her eyes to Clovis who was watching this exchange with a frown. "If I need you, I will call."
"Yes, my lady."
Padmé nodded to Sabé. She then turned and pushed past Clovis, opening the door and entering his office without invitation.
"I presume I won't be recorded?" she asked when she heard him scurry after her.
The door sealed itself shut behind Clovis and the antsy man hurried to his desk. He picked up a datapad and began tapping at it with jittery fingers.
"Clovis?"
His eyes darted up. "No, of course not. No recording."
"Good."
Clovis stuck his tongue out as he returned his attention to the datapad. "There," he mumbled.
Shades descended from the curved windows behind Clovis' desk while a florescent light flickered to life above her head. She glanced up with a look of begrudging appreciation.
"The room is soundproof?"
"Yes."
"Any cameras?
"Disabled."
"Very good."
Clovis leaned forward and spread his hands on the desk. "Care to tell me what this is about now?"
Padmé ambled forward, deliberately taking her time as she appreciated the intricate pattern of the carpet beneath her feet. Clovis made a sound of exasperation and Padmé looked up sharply.
"I know whom you serve," she said, jumping straight to the point.
Clovis licked his lips and looked away. "Impossible," he said, although it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.
"Oh?"
"You're a senator. You know nothing."
Padmé's expression hardened. She snapped a finger, and Clovis' head swiveled back to her. "I am no mere senator," she growled.
Clovis' face blanched. "You work with him?"
"No," Padmé said. "That is why I am here."
"I don't understand."
"I need you to put me in contact with him."
"Why can't you do it yourself?"
Padmé clucked her tongue in disapproval. "I thought you would appreciate the value of discretion, Clovis."
Clovis conceded the point. He stood back upright and crossed his arms. "May I inquire what your business with him is?"
"You may, but I see no reason why I should answer," Padmé said smartly. "You are a middle man, nothing more."
"I see," Clovis said with a hint of dejection.
Padmé sighed. "As I said, I don't want any trouble with you. Just connect us and I will be on my way."
Clovis deliberated for a few moments, but she knew his indecision was merely for show. She had him by the throat and Clovis knew it. He had no choice but to cooperate.
Picking up the datapad, Clovis pressed a button and Padmé heard a mechanical sound. She turned around to see a circular dais unfurling from the floor. The florescent light above dimmed and the dull blue glow of the projector illuminated the room in cold colors.
"Thank you, Clovis," she said, taking a step toward the dais. "You may go."
"Go?" he repeated.
Padmé shooed him with an agitated flick of the wrist. When Clovis hesitated, she turned to give him a dirty look.
"Alright, I'm going," Clovis capitulated. He walked around his desk and trudged out of the room with his head bowed. The door closed behind him and Padmé released a sigh of relief.
Her flamboyance faded and trepidation set in. Wringing her wrists, she attempted in vain to calm herself down. This was a terrible idea. Would she really be able to make this work? And if not, what would happen? There were so many ways this could go wrong.
"I am very busy, Clovis. Why are you –"
Padmé looked up to meet the incredulous eyes of Count Dooku. He blinked twice, shock writ large across his waxen face.
"Senator Amidala? What is the meaning of this?"
Padmé steadied herself with a breath. "Forgive me for this unorthodox arrangement."
Dooku's eyes narrowed. "Did the Jedi put you up to this? Is this a ploy to uncover my whereabouts? Because if it is, I can assure you that –"
"Rest easy, Tyranus. I'm not with the Jedi."
Stunned, Dooku stared at her with his mouth agape. It took several moments for him to recover, shaking his head and wiping the astonishment from his expression.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Your cooperation," she answered.
"With the Republic?"
Padmé guffawed. "No, not the Republic."
"Then with whom? With you?"
"Yes, with me."
"To what end?"
Padmé hesitated. It wasn't too late to reverse course. She didn't have to betray her master like this. She didn't have to take this risk.
A steely element swelled through her, suppressing her self-doubt and heightening her resolve. She was doing this! The fate of her family, her husband, her baby all depended on it. Danger be damned! She was doing what had to be done.
"I need your help to defeat Sidious."
A long silence met these fateful words. Dooku's eyes darted back and forth, searching for deception where there was none to be found.
"How do you know so much?"
"Sidious is my master. I know everything about him."
Dooku flared his nostrils. "Impossible! I am Sidious' apprentice! You are nothing but a –"
He stopped abruptly when Padmé raised a hand. His eyes turned wide and he grasped at his throat.
"Finish that thought, would you?"
Dooku resisted her grasp and Padmé's arm began to shake. She bit down hard on her tongue, her vision darkening as the Force billowed around her. She could feel the fight give out from Dooku and Padmé took advantage. Thrusting her hand upward, she lifted Dooku several inches into the air. His eyes rolled back and he kicked his legs wildly, a hoarse sound escaping his lips as he pleaded for mercy. In her mind, Padmé began to count.
One… two… three…
"You are nothing. When the time comes, Sidious will cast you aside like the pawn that you are."
Four… five… six…
Even through his blue-tinged hologram, Padmé could tell Dooku's face was beginning to turn purple. He clawed at his neck, screaming in silent agony.
Seven… eight… nine…
"From now on you will serve me, Tyranus. I will be your new master."
Her hand dropped and Dooku fell along with it. On his knees, Dooku gasped for breath as he caressed his throat with a gloved hand. Padmé resisted the urge to look away, to hide her face, to cover her ears…
"All this… all this time? You've been… his apprentice?"
Padmé considered for a moment before shaking her head. "He has only the one apprentice. You and I are but means to an end."
Dooku looked up, brow furrowed with confusion. "What do you mean?"
"He wants my husband," Padmé snarled. "I won't let him."
"Your husband?"
"The less you know, the more secure you will be. I want you as my agent and informant. It is in your best interest that you serve me in this capacity. Within the year, Sidious intends to dispose of you."
"But why? I have been a faithful servant! I've done everything he has asked of me!"
"You are a tool. Valuable, yes, but expendable."
Dooku staggered to his feet, wiping some spittle out of his goatee with the back of his hand. "And what am I to you? Another tool?"
"I have no interest in domination. All I want is security for my husband and family. Your demise serves no advantage to me."
She could tell Dooku was not convinced, but considering the circumstances, he had little choice but to comply. "I tried to have you killed. Sidious ordered me to do it! Are you telling me that was all a ruse?"
Padmé barked a laugh. "It served a purpose, but yes. You have no idea how intricate Sidious' machinations can be."
"Could this very exchange be a part of them?"
Padmé hadn't considered that. Was it possible she was doing exactly what Sidious wanted her to do? Surely not! What possible purpose could her betrayal serve?
"No," she said. Her lip curled into a sneer, a bitter taste in her mouth. "He thinks I'm his pet. His precious girl. I could never betray him. Never. He raised me since I was an infant so he could have an unwavering slave at his side. But not anymore. I won't bend to his will. I won't let him get away with everything he's done! I won't let him get away with what he plans to do! I am his greatest weakness, and I plan to exploit it!"
Her tirade came to an end, but Padmé was still quivering with fury. She could feel her eyes glowing, burning! Dooku was afraid of her, terrified of her power, of her potential.
Padmé was unleashed. Her master would soon regret ever having put her in this noose.