Notebook Mythology

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Surrender Ch. 2: Coruscant I (Part 1: What Kind of Day Has It Been, Padmé?)

A/N: Dedicated to Aunt Barbara, who has no idea what I'm writing about, but asked for more anyway.

******

When Padmé stepped off the Cruiser on Coruscant, she was immediately swept into the welcoming embrace of her handmaiden, Dormé. The landing platform, well-lit in the early evening darkness, was crowded mainly with Jedi, and so Padmé, Artoo, and Threepio were easy for the Naboo security personnel to find.

"M'lady! Thank goodness!" Dormé sounded as if she was about to cry. As the handmaiden's arms tightened around her, against the carefully bandaged wounds on her back, Padmé couldn't stop herself from cringing, and Dormé pulled back abruptly. Her eyes went wide in alarm. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Dormé appeared highly skeptical. Padmé gave a weak smile and shifted her gaze to a clearly displeased Captain Typho.

"I'm not going to ask why you were off Naboo," he said. "I'm not even going to ask what you were thinking. All that matters is that you're safe now." He sounded as though he didn't quite believe it.

"Good," Padmé responded. "That should save time. I want to know where that clone army came from and how it was authorized so quickly."

Dormé and Typho exchanged glances.

"You don't know?" the handmaiden asked. Her tone sent a sudden chill down Padmé's spine.

"We'll talk on the way back to the apartment," Typho stated firmly, leading the two ladies and the droids to their waiting transport.

As she was guided away, Padmé looked back for Anakin, but she couldn't find him.

Once safely on board the transport and moving away from the platform, Dormé began to faithfully recount all that had happened in Padmé and Anakin's absence from Coruscant. The Senator found herself shaking her head in disbelief.

"Jar Jar moved to give the Chancellor emergency powers? In my name?"

"Yes, m'lady. It was the only way--"

"Without even consulting me?"

"There wasn't much time. Besides," she added softly, "how would he have known where to reach you?"

Padmé opened her mouth to respond to this, but couldn't think of a thing to say. Dormé was right. She had made the decision to accompany Anakin to Tatooine spontaneously, from a personal desire to stay with him, and in doing so she had effectively abandoned her Senatorial duties. A profound exhaustion swept over her again, and she longed to simply lie down on her bed and rest until someone else-- anyone else-- had sorted out this terrible mess.

Looking back, she could remember very little of the night after that. They entered the Senate Apartment building through a side entrance to avoid the reporters crowded around the front. Dormé helped her bathe and dress in a nightgown, not even uttering a word at the sight of the wounds on her back and the bruises all over her body. After that, the young Senator gratefully sank onto her bed and was asleep with in an instant.

It was late the next morning when Dormé awoke her.

"I'm sorry, m'lady, but Chancellor Palpatine has requested a meeting with you. I've already sent a message to your parents, and Captain Typho contacted Queen Jamillia, but they both want to speak with you when you have a chance. Oh, and does that rusty protocol droid belong to you, m'lady? We had to shut him off-- he kept yammering on about the battle."

Padmé groaned and blinked at the bright light streaming into her room. If it wasn't for the sudden pain that hit her the moment she moved, she could almost believe that the past week had been nothing more than a dream. Even Anakin. She found strange comfort in touching the bandages, feeling assured that the memory of Anakin's lips on hers was very, very real.

Stiffly, she arose and dressed in formal Senate attire. The ornate gown felt strange somehow, so different from what she'd worn over the past few days. She'd changed in those days, she realized suddenly. She hadn't even thought about it until now, when everything around her was familiar, and something in her was different. I've been free, she thought. I've been happy. I've been falling in love. Then, I never knew. Twenty-four years old and I never knew what it was like.

She wanted to be with Anakin then, so much that it hurt. But she couldn't let herself think of Anakin now. She'd been thrown back into the stream of her old life and its current was moving fast. If she didn't keep up, she'd drown. So, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, she entered the Supreme Chancellor's office.

"Senator Amidala," Palpatine greeted her as she took a seat. "Allow me the pleasure of welcoming you back to Coruscant."

"Thank you, Chancellor." There was a pause. If he was expecting any congratulations from Padmé on his new powers or use of them, he was to be disappointed. Sensing this, he continued.

"You must have been through a terrible ordeal."

"No concern need be wasted on me, Chancellor. It's the Jedi we should be thinking of now."

"Yes. Their losses, I regret, were catastrophic," Palpatine agreed. "You, nevertheless, do warrant my concern at this time. Tell me, Senator Amidala, how precisely did you come to fall into Geonosian hands?"

The edge in his voice alerted Padmé that, rather than personal concern, the motivation behind this inquiry was purely political. She would have to be careful.

"I was with Padawan Skywalker when he received Master Kenobi's transmission to the Jedi Council."

"Indeed? And you decided that a rescue attempt would be appropriate?" The edge was more pointed now. "Tell me, Senator, how am I to explain to the Republic the presence of the leading voice speaking against military force in the Separatist crisis in the first battle of that conflict? How am I to explain the sudden appearance of a member of the Loyalist Committee on the Separatist world of Geonosis? The implications that could be drawn from this are as endless as they are potentially damaging."

"I thought that diplomatic intervention might be useful in resolving the issue without violence. Surely you cannot believe otherwise. It was clear that the Jedi would require several hours to reach Geonosis. We were less than a parsec away."

"Oh? I was not aware that Naboo was so near to Geonosis." A slip. An obvious one. Focus, Padmé.

"We were on Tatooine." She met his eyes defiantly. Just when, she wondered, did this become a contest of wills? And why had it become so? There was no reason for the Chancellor to doubt her, much less show malice. It didn't make sense, and she hadn't expected it.

"Tatooine?" he repeated. "It was my understanding that you were to remain on Naboo."

"Anakin's mother was dying." Padmé instantly regretted that; it was too personal. As she spoke, though, she thought she saw Palpatine's eyes flash.

"Really?" the Chancellor seemed not to notice that her statement hadn't answered his question. "How unfortunate," he said quietly, preoccupied. "How very upsetting for him."

"Chancellor," Padmé cut in, "please realize that Anakin had nothing to do with my decision to help Master Kenobi. He accompanied me only as my bodyguard."

"I am aware that he took his responsibility to you very seriously. It is fortunate that he was with you."

"He saved my life," she admitted in a voice softer than she had intended. "I hold him in the very highest regard. Have no doubt of that." More forcefully, she added, "He should not be held accountable for--"

"Any errors in judgment," Palpatine supplied sharply, "which you may have made?"

"Complications which arose," she said firmly. "We were unjustly accused of espionage and convicted without a trial."

The Chancellor raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "What more can be expected from a planet which does not respect the laws of the Republic?"

Padmé said nothing. Abruptly the Chancellor smiled and stood.

"Very well, Senator. I understand that your motivation in this matter was purely diplomatic, and I will inform the Senate and the media accordingly. It was not I, you understand, who doubted you in this respect. It may be best, however, to subdue the fact that you were involved in the fighting, as I understand to be the case. No, you were wrongly held by the Geonosians for espionage while on a diplomatic visit and then subsequently freed by Republic forces. You understand, it is much simpler that way. With all you've been through, the last thing you need is to be accused of starting this war." He eyed her condescendingly. "And do try to be less reckless, dear child, in the future. The Republic needs you now, as do I."

There was little to say after that, and Padmé did not trust herself to maintain civility in any case. The interview was quickly over, and the Naboo Senator departed Palpatine’s office. She was still fuming when she reached her apartment. Dear child? And manipulating the truth to suit his purposes! He would, of course, hear none of her protests, using fear for her welfare as his defense. No, she would have to go along with it. She would have to pick her battles with the Chancellor carefully from now on, and this was one she knew she could not win.

Then, too, his words were echoing in her head: the last thing you need is to be accused of starting this war. Who would accuse her of such a thing? And... a little voice inside her head nagged her, would they be right?

Suddenly she noticed Threepio, deactivated in the corner, and her thoughts strayed back to Anakin again. He most likely had his prosthetic arm fitted by now and soon, very soon, she would see him again. He would take her home to Naboo. She switched the droid on, and he instantly sprang to life.

"Oh! Miss Padmé! I'm so sorry." He pointed over Padmé's shoulder to Dormé. "That insolent woman shut me down!"

Dormé rolled her eyes and glowered at the droid, who seemed to be glaring back. Glancing from one to the other, Padmé giggled, and Dormé finally broke into a smile and shook her head.

"Well! I never!" Threepio exclaimed, as a buzzer sounded at the door. Captain Typho answered it.

"M'lady," he announced," Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan is here to see you."

Her frustration quelled somewhat, but still present, Padmé turned to greet one of her strongest allies in the Senate, and one of her only colleagues who could truly be called a friend.

"Hello, Bail."

"Senator Amidala." He bowed to her formally, and she returned the gesture.

"M'lady," Dormé whispered, "may I leave you?"

"Yes, of course." The Senator nodded, and Dormé followed Captain Typho from the room.

When they were gone, Padmé turned back to Bail and smiled. "It's certainly good to see a friendly face."

"Likewise, in these trying times." A pause ensued. Padmé became aware that Bail was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"Are you all right, Padmé?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes. I'm fine. Perfectly fine," she reassured him. Her weak smile faded. "Others... weren't so fortunate."

Bail shook his head sadly. "I can't even imagine..." he trailed off, looking at her again.

"I'm fine," she repeated. From the back of the room, she heard Artoo beep incredulously and Threepio tell him to be quiet. "Won't you sit down?"

He followed her to the couches in the center of the room and seated himself across from her. "I came to see you this morning, but your handmaiden said you were still sleeping."

"That was kind of you. Dormé didn't tell me." Padmé glanced in the direction her handmaiden had gone. "We're all a little distracted here today."

"Not just here." He sighed. "I can't believe it's come this far. Come to war."

"Neither can I," she answered quietly.

"When I heard you were on Geonosis..." He paused. "What exactly were you doing there?"

She sat back with a groan. "Trying to negotiate."

"But by then it was too late for negotiation," Bail put in, shaking his head.

"I certainly wish someone had informed me," she spat out angrily, without even thinking. Quickly, she corrected herself. "I'm sorry. That was... uncalled for, and childish."

But Bail only laughed. "You are an oddity, Padmé Amidala. No need to apologize. It's not childish to still care about the unity of the Republic. Force knows there are few enough who do." He grew suddenly serious. "Padmé, the Loyalist Committee is meeting tomorrow with the Chancellor to reassess the situation, now that..." He shrugged helplessly.

"What time?" Padmé asked.

"What I'm trying to tell you is that you needn't come. Considering what you've been through, I'm sure everyone would understand."

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied sharply. "I'm not going to sit out on the most vital meeting to date of a committee I've helped lead for a year."

"All I'm saying is that you might want to take some time before jumping back in. Get some rest."

"I am rested, Bail, and I am perfectly capable--"

"I never said you weren't," he interrupted sincerely. "I only thought I'd suggest it because I... consider you a friend, Padmé."

She took a calming breath and managed a smile. "I know, Bail. And you know I feel likewise. But no, thank you. I'm fine. And I need to prove to the committee that I'm fine and that I intend to remain active in our work."

"All right, then." Bail stood. "I must be going. I'd offer to pick up some of your paperwork, but I have a feeling you might pull a blaster on me."

"It's possible," Padmé admitted lightly. "Thank you, Bail. I'll see you tomorrow at...?"

"I'll send you the time once I know."

"Very well, then."

She escorted him to the apartment door, which opened to reveal Representative Jar Jar Binks, hand poised over the buzzer. Padmé eyed him with some surprise.

Bail nodded politely. "Representative Binks."

"Hello, Senator Organa," Jar Jar replied. "Mesa comin' to see--" His face lit up as he turned to Padmé. "Senator Padmé! Mesa so smilin' to seein' yousa okeday!" He threw himself at the Naboo Senator and wrapped her in a tight hug, causing her to yelp in pain.

"Jar Jar!"

He pulled back sheepishly. "Mesa sorry. Mesa sorry."

She looked over his shoulder to see a new expression of concern etched clearly on Bail Organa's face.

"It's all right," she assured them both. "Bail, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." He bowed and exited, leaving Padmé to deal with the one being in the galaxy she perhaps least wanted to see today. It wasn't that she didn't like Jar Jar. Indeed, she'd always had a special affection for the Gungan. But even she had to admit that Jar Jar Binks was not suited for politics-- in fact, she might be among the first to admit it. In the time they'd worked together, she had often been cheered by his enthusiasm and optimism, but his clumsiness, impatience, and lack of protocol wore on her, becoming particularly irritating when she had serious work to do-- which was often, these days. What in the farthest reaches of the galaxy had persuaded him that he could decide to propose a motion altering the very nature of the Republic without her input?

"Mui mui big things been happenin' while yousa been away, m'lady!" he said. "All kindsa trouble, den mesa talkin' in front of da Senate, and pow! Wesa got an army!"

"I know, Jar Jar." He didn't seem even to notice the very definite tone she was using.

"You sayin' yousa count on mesa, and mesa doin' it!"

"Can you tell me exactly how it happened, Jar Jar?"

And so he did, concluding with, "Things lookin' bery bombad, and wesa thinkin' we need an army, or else da whole Republic gettin' squashed. Deysa wishin' you were there to talk to da Senate, and so mesa thinkin' mesa do it. Den da Chancellor gettin' emergency powers." He finally became aware of her expression. "Mesa doin' da right thing, right Senator?"

She didn't know what to say. She had wanted to yell at Jar Jar, wanted to scream at him until the guards were called. She had wanted to call him an incompetent idiot and blame him for everything. But now...

Without that army, everyone in the Geonosian arena would have died. Anakin. Everyone. Without the Chancellor's executive order, there would have been no army. Without Jar Jar's motion, the Chancellor wouldn't have had the power to give that order.

But surely that power wasn't right, that army wasn't right? Surely a few more lives lost in that arena wouldn't have mattered, even if one was hers. She had been prepared to die. But Anakin... And all of the rest of the Republic, the innocent people, what sort of terror would be unleashed on them now if they didn't have that army to defend them?

If Jar Jar hadn't been speaking for her, that motion wouldn't have passed. If she hadn't campaigned so vocally against the Military Creation Act, no one would have followed it. No, she hadn't reversed her position, but had she been there, had she known the circumstances, the consequences... would she have? Would she have acted any differently than Jar Jar? She didn't know. But she did know, now, that despite her absence, even through her absence, she had done this. Her actions, including her trip to Geonosis, had led up to that moment in the Senate. She had started this war.

"I... I don't know, Jar Jar," she answered at last. "But I know you did the best you could. That's all I could have asked of you, it's all any of us can do."

The Gungan grinned. "Yousa doin' okeday, eh Padmé? And da Jedi... Obi and little Ani... desa okeday, too?"

"Yes. They were both wounded, but... I'm sure you'll hear about it. I'm... just tired."

"Oh. Mesa be goin', then."

"I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow morning."

"Right. Right. Bye-bye, Senator."

"Thank you, Jar Jar."

Padmé gratefully closed the door behind him. She would have piles of paperwork to catch up on, and she'd need to contact Queen Jamillia and her family. Her mother must be having a fit over not having heard from her by now. She decided it would be wise first to ask Dormé how much had already been reported earlier or via the holonet.

Padmé walked into Dormé's quarters and stopped abruptly in the doorway, her eyes going wide. There, in the middle of the room, stood Dormé, wrapped in the arms of Captain Typho, his hand in her hair, her lips on his. Becoming aware of the Senator's presence, they broke apart abruptly. Dormé's hand flew to her mouth and she blushed deeply, while Captain Typho looked like a nerf caught in the headlights of an approaching speeder. If Padmé had not been so completely dumbfounded, she might have laughed. As it was, she could only manage to open and shut her mouth wordlessly several times before simply turning around and walking back out again.



Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit. Please do not copy or republish Erin's work without her express written permission. Thank you!

4 Comments:

  • BRILLIANT! Oh, not the writing,the fact that someopne finally dedicated something to me! : )

    ABFG

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 10:52 AM  

  • you are part of the rebel alliance and a traitor. Go away!!

    By Blogger Footprint, at 11:43 AM  

  • Nice work all around. I like this chapter. my only complaint is "Force knows". I don't think the force can nesscesarily be equated with God - no one thinks of it as a sentianet being, so it can't know anything anyway. I don't know, just my two credits.

    By Blogger Nathaniel Cornstalk, at 2:53 PM  

  • That ending was certianly not what I was expecting.

    By Blogger Jonah Comstock, at 2:13 PM  

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