Chapter 8 - Invasion

Senator Palpatine, Typho and the girls all leave early the next morning, heading back to fill the empty position in senate. He waves with a wide smile on his face, almost triumphant. We watch the ship fly up into the stratosphere, then return to the palace. The girls stay inhumanly rigid throughout the day, still unnerved by the encounter with Palpatine the other day.

Days pass as normal, the quiet of mundane life in the palace creeping over us. I get comfortable in my royal robes, comfortable in the throne, comfortable with my loyal subjects. And life moves on. We receive no word back from the girls on Coruscant, and no word is good word. We ease into the simplicity of our lives. That is, we begin to. The civil war in Desiraé still rages on, and troops are constantly needed for reinforcements. Our army weakens with every passing day, and yet, there is nothing we can do to stop it. The Gungans will not rest.

We stand no chance when the trade federation begin their blockade.

oOo

The alarms in the palace are loud, painfully so. All around us, representatives and high-ranking officials scurry about in mad dashes, looking around for that one thing, or trying to find the security. I do what I can, and that is to stand motionless while Sabé sits in the throne for me. She is completely emotionless, her expression blank as the people around her scramble. I try to be the same, but worry creeps into my eyes, and makes me tremble. I can't help but wonder about the wellness of my people, of my family.

The trade federation's representatives; two Nemoidians, control a small droid army capable of wiping out my people in a matter of months.

Sabé breathes deeply in her perch, and glances back at me, almost saying that I should do the same. I take a deep inhale, and feel a little better, but it doesn't help much.

Representative after representative run in, taking one glance at the calm queen and putting their questions to rest. It affirms my decision on making Sabé my decoy. She has much better self-control than I do.

Finally, one last representative runs in and stays. He is an older gentleman, his hair turned grey by the years, and creases around his eyes tell me that he's had many happy years. He sports a well-groomed beard, which falls just over the collar of his purple tunic. His figure is a little on the tubbier side, but he doesn't seem fat. Just carrying a little extra weight.

"Your majesty," he says, his breath bated from the exercise, "the trade federation sends a message."

"Play the transmission," Sabé commands.

A blue hologram of the two Nemoidians is projected in front of the queen. I can't see it, but I can hear it through the earpiece I wear.

"Greetings, your majesty," one Nemoidian says. "My name is Nute Gunray. We are the representatives for the trade federation, and have decided to place a blockade on your planet, due to your inability to adhere to Bill 17, section 3, which was passed in the senate last week. Until we can come to an agreement about this matter, this blockade will stay, and you will be unable to receive or export any goods. If you want to spare your people, you should send us some reparations and ambassadors. Until then, you should get comfortable. Goodbye."

I hear the hologram blip out of existence, and anger wells up inside me. How dare he? I never did anything to break the bill he spoke of. And yet, there is nothing I can do now.

Sabé waits patiently for my response, but I don't really have one. When she realizes this, she expresses her frustration. "We must send ambassadors to their ship right away, and get these invaders away from the Naboo."

"Very well, my lady," the representative responds, his voice trembling in fear. "But who should we send?"

She sits back down, defeated. Who can we send? Who can we trust?

"We must contact the senator," I sigh into my earpiece. Sabé repeats the message, and all of the handmaidens shift to look at her. "We must ask for help from the Jedi."

"But the Jedi cannot be trusted, they may turn on us!"

"I am well aware of that, representative, however we have nowhere else to turn! It is either ask for help from the Jedi or watch thousands of people die at our hands. Which would you choose?"

He turns away, embarrassed. "I'll call the senator right away, my lady."

Sabé sighs, but her posture remains proud. Myself, on the other hand, I collapse from pent up stress. The girls whip their heads around to look at me, their eyes wide with shock.

"You're asking him for help," asks an incredulous Rabé.

I nod, staying resilient in my cause. "He is the only one capable of helping us. Of helping my people. In dire straits, we must call for aid. The senator is the only one capable of providing that help. I must do what I can to save my people."

They nod, their faces grim with fear, and their eyes full of sorrow.

We wonder what the new day will bring.

oOo

I get no rest this night. No, instead I toss and turn, and fidget. When morning comes my bottom lip is raw from biting it all night. My eyes are shadowed with dark circles, and I will them to close, to let me sleep, but I can't. When the sun rises high enough for it to be considered "morning," I get up, and do what I can to look presentable. I dress in my red courtroom gown. The gown is completely fashioned of thick red fabric, with brown fur sleeves and long shoulder pads. Several yellow-orange lamps glow jut above the hem of the gown. My hair is pulled back into a large fan-like bun, and a large golden headpiece twists around it, adorned with shining rubies.

As I step out into the fray, I am surrounded by my handmaidens. Only they can protect me now. War may come, and I must be ready for it.

"Your majesty," the representative from the other day calls, "I have sent a message to the senator, and he is sending two ambassadors to the trade federation ships which blockade the planet. They are Jedi, and are well trained. They will be able to save us."

"Very good, representative," I say, giving him an affirming nod.

"My lady, it would be appropriate to send a message to the trade federation and notify them of your decision," Panaka says from behind me.

"Very well," I reply. "Send a message to the trade federation. I wish to speak to their leader myself."

The security force sets up our message system as quickly as possible, and I wait for them to give me the go ahead.

"Are you ready," asks Panaka, gently whispering in my ear.

"I am ready."

End of Part One