It was polite of him not to send his NON unit, all things considered.
“Thank you, Senator,” Amidala said. It was very, very close to Padmé’s voice. He inclined his head and took his leave of her.
Padmé lingered in the gardens for a few long green moments before heading back to the residence. She was due to get an update from Sabé, and she knew the others would want to hear how everything had gone. Also, she was going to have to do some reading on permacrete and how one went about shipping it. She commed Mariek and Dormé and told them to meet her at the shuttle.
“Success?” Dormé said when she was close enough not to be overheard.
“Yes,” Padmé said. “I’ll tell you all when we get back to the residence. It’s not so interesting that I want to go over it twice.”
“It’s interesting enough that you agreed to discuss it in committee,” Mariek pointed out.
“We must all make sacrifices,” Padmé said, but the truth was that she didn’t mind what she had signed on for in the least. She would be helping to build something again, like her father had taught her, even if it was only indirectly. And she would be making an ally at the same time.
Sabé was happy to see her, even just over a holo, but somewhat less pleased when Padmé announced whom she had allied herself with.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Sabé said, “but am I not investigating him for involvement in your attempted murder?”
“I’m even more sure he had nothing to do with it,” Padmé said. “He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place, I suppose.”
“Please tell me that Clovis isn’t on the committee,” Sabé
said.
“He’s not,” Padmé assured her. “He’s bouncing around the money factions. It’s only a matter of time before the Trade Federation takes notice of him, and I don’t intend to be near him when that happens.”
“I should think not,” Sabé said. “Speaking of our favorite invading attempted murderers, I found something about the newsnets that published those first stories about you. The chain of corporations is extensive in every case, and most of the companies are no longer active, but they’re all owned by subsidiaries of the Trade Federation.”
“They were slandering me?” Padmé said.
“I’m pretty sure it’s libel when it’s in print,” Sabé told her. “But yes.”
“Nute Gunray’s third trial is underway,” Padmé said. “It started just before I arrived on Coruscant. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“He certainly holds a grudge,” Sabé said. “I’ll keep an eye on the trial, both what’s being reported and what people are saying about it out of the media. Gunray has it in for you personally, and I don’t want him to get close enough to you to get lucky.”
“He doesn’t have to get that close,” Padmé said. “But I appreciate the sentiment. How is Tonra?”
“Homesick, but very much in love with the food at this terrible diner thing down the plaza from the apartment,” Sabé reported. “He keeps trying to get me to go, but I make it a personal policy not to eat at any establishment that produces that much smoke.”
Padmé laughed with her, and for a moment, they might have been sitting in the royal apartment in Theed palace, discussing the events of the day. Something chimed on Sabé’s end.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Sabé said. “One of my new contacts wants to talk.”
“Be safe,” Padmé said.
“I will,” Sabé promised.
Padmé terminated the connection and called up the background documents that Versé had prepared for her.
Pundits across Coruscant were shocked when Senator Amidala (Chommell sector) appeared on Senator Bail Organa (Alderaan)’s committee for transportation of construction materials. No one could have expected Amidala, who has been notoriously flighty and unpredictable since her arrival on Coruscant, to join such a drab-sounding operation, so theories abound as to her motivations or, rather, the motivations of whoever she is operating for.
Senator Organa, though thoroughly reputable in his service, is often at odds with the Chancellor. It seems unlikely that Palpatine has set Amidala on the senator from Alderaan to sniff out some scandal. It’s possible that Amidala is seeking to curry favor by finding one. We can only speculate what folly her newfound “interests” will lead her to.
—TriNebulon News
There were two main problems with permacrete. The first was that mixing it required a large quantity of water, which not all planets had in readiness and which was impractical to ship. The second was that the mix itself was bulky and required large vessels to transport the loads. This meant that many systems used their own local variations on the formula, and all of those were drastically inferior.
The third problem with permacrete was minor but an annoyance all the same: Padmé was pretty sure it was the most boring subject of discussion in the entire galaxy.
Yet discuss it she did. After the general session, which had been taken up almost entirely by the Malastare delegation giving speeches that the Chancellor would not or could not interrupt, Padmé had followed Senator Organa’s aide to a tiny room in the Senate building. There, she took a seat at the table and settled in to listen.
Only senators were present, though Padmé knew that several of them were recording the proceedings to disseminate to their aides at a later time. A couple of them had brought droids to take notes for them, but Padmé dismissed that as an option because she didn’t particularly trust any of the droids she’d encountered thus far on Coruscant. Then she recalled the blue-and-white astromech unit that traveled with Varbarós aboard the Naboo Royal Starship. That little droid had a recording device, and she knew it was reliable. She made a note to remind herself to think about it later and returned her attention to the table.
After an hour of talk with no measurable progress, the meeting broke up so that the senators could depart for other engagements. Padmé would have followed them out into the corridor, but Organa caught her attention and waved her over to where he was standing. She got up to see what he wanted.
“Senator,” Organa said, “did you find our meeting of any great illumination?”
“I did,” Padmé said. She hadn’t learned much about construction materials that she hadn’t already learned from her reading, but she had gained insight as to how topics were tabled and how the elements of negotiation were incorporated into discussion.
“Allow me to introduce Senator Mon Mothma,” he said, indicating the red-haired human woman on his left.
“Senator,” Padmé said, inclining her head. Padmé did not extend a hand in greeting, and neither did Mon Mothma.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” The senator’s voice was light, but there was an undeniable presence to it. When she spoke, people listened. She knew it, and she was learning to use it. “I was very new to the Senate when you made your speech as Queen of Naboo. It has been interesting to watch your transition into galactic politics.”
Years of practice kept Padmé’s frustration from showing on her face. She was still not used to being thought less of because of her youth and hoped she never became so dismissive of a person just because they lacked her own experience.
“It has been something of an exercise,” she said politely. “And I do miss the more personal connections that serving my own planet allowed me to foster. Knowing the names and faces of those you are working to help is a luxury, I suppose, but I do think the scale on which the Republic can serve its members has much to be grateful for.”
“Of course,” Mon Mothma said. “It is no easy task to put one’s own home to the side in order to serve a greater purpose.”
The piece clicked into place so loudly in Padmé’s head, she was worried that Organa and Mon Mothma might have actually heard her thoughts. It wasn’t her inexperience, exactly, that was causing them to be so cold to her. They thought she was more loyal to Naboo than she was to the Republic, and that she wasn’t
up to facing that kind of conflict of interest. Indeed, her past actions in deposing Chancellor Valorum in an attempt to level the playing field against the Trade Federation showed how quick she’d been to dismiss Senate protocol. Naboo was part of who she was, but it seemed they expected her to exorcise that part, or at least isolate it, before they would fully trust her. She wasn’t entirely sure she was willing to do it.
“I look forward to that service,” Padmé said, though she didn’t enjoy dishonesty.
She couldn’t tell from Mon Mothma’s expression if the other senator believed her, but the look she exchanged with Senator Organa wasn’t as dismissive as her initial survey of Padmé had been.
“I’ll send word when we have scheduled the next meeting,” Organa said. “Hopefully we’ll have everything ready to go on the Senate floor before the session breaks up.”
“I’ll look forward to that, as well,” Padmé said, and let them precede her out of the room.
She didn’t go to her office or to her shuttle back to the residence. Instead, she found herself wandering the hallways. It wasn’t quite aimless—in theory she could be heading for the garden—but she wasn’t in a particular hurry, and she was deep in thought.
“Ah, Senator Amidala!” A voice permeated her musings, and she stopped moving. It was Mina Bonteri.
“Hello,” Padmé said with genuine warmth. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
This, Padmé found she meant with complete truthfulness. Senator Bonteri was at least willing to talk with her as an equal, even if there was something else she wasn’t sharing. It was fair enough: Padmé kept her own counsel on several topics anyway.
“Come and have tea with me?” Bonteri asked. “My office is right around the corner.”
“I would love to,” Padmé said.
Bonteri’s office was decorated with paintings from her homeworld. Padmé was no expert, but some of the works seemed to be distinctly less refined than the others. Perhaps Onderon prided itself on utilizing all materials for art, not just high-quality ones.
“My son’s work,” Bonteri said as Padmé contemplated a particularly awkward painting of…a speeder bike? “He’s probably destined for other things, but he was four when he made that, and he enjoyed bright colors and making a mess. I’m fond of his work, so I keep it here even now that he’s moved on to other hobbies.”
“Oh,” Padmé said. Then she laughed. “On Naboo, we encourage all children to experiment with artistic expression so that they can determine where their talents lie.”
“Where were yours?” Bonteri asked. She poured hot water into a plain metal teapot and got two cups out of a cupboard.
“Oration and poetry,” Padmé said. “Not skills commonly cultivated, I must admit. Most parents would prefer their children be good at making something besides words. I think my mother would have preferred it if I had gone into music, even though my aptitude there was not as strong.”
“You were queen of a planet, and your mother would have preferred you to be a musician?” Bonteri said.
“Naboo is a unique world,” Padmé admitted.
“And parents are never particularly good at letting their children make their own paths,” Bonteri said. She looked at her son’s paintings and smiled. “Yet they do.”
“Indeed,” said Padmé. “And my parents are proud of my accomplishments, even though they wish I had remained closer to home.”
“Your father has several friends in the Senate, does he not?” Bonteri said.
“He does,” Padmé replied. “That’s how I was able to gain sponsorship to the junior legislative program when I was eight. He does a lot of aid work, and Senate contacts are useful for that.”
“You didn’t wish to join him?” Bonteri asked.
“I think I am, in my own way,” Padmé said. “If nothing else, I am another senator he knows he can trust.”
“I suppose that’s as much as any of us can hope for, these days,” Bonteri said. “It just takes so long to get anything accomplished through official channels. Why haven’t you sought your father’s friends out?”
“Because I wanted to stand on my own,” Padmé said. “I am already viewed as an extension of the Chancellor by some, and I have no wish to be viewed as an extension of my father by others.”
“Yet you do not mind being viewed as an extension of Naboo’s queen?” Bonteri asked.
“I was Naboo’s queen,” Padmé said. “I am always going to be part of that system, though I believe I can be something more, as well.”
Bonteri poured two cups of tea and passed one of them to Padmé. The scent was unfamiliar. Bonteri took a sip, and Padmé followed suit. The flavor was more floral than she might have preferred but not entirely unappetizing.
“There are a growing number of senators who feel that loyalty to one’s own world first, regardless of procedure, is not a bad thing,” Bonteri said slowly. She locked eyes with Padmé, but Padmé kept her face blank and took another sip of her tea.
“A senator should be able to maintain a balance,” she said. “To love the world they are from but see the galaxy as a whole.”
“Can anyone truly do that?” Bonteri asked. “See the whole galaxy and remain objective about it?”
Padmé considered her words. Bonteri was usually much more open than Mon Mothma had been, yet it was clear that Mon Mothma believed in the Republic first and foremost. What Bonteri was suggesting wasn’t treasonous, but it was dangerous, and Padmé couldn’t tell which side of the argument Bonteri came down on.
“I think that we should try,” she said at last.
Bonteri drained her teacup, and Padmé couldn’t tell if she had passed or failed the test. She also wasn’t sure if she wanted to pass or fail the test, but Bonteri didn’t look disappointed in her, so she supposed she had done well enough.
“You’ll have to try harder than others,” Bonteri said. “You’ve already gone around the Senate once by displacing Chancellor Valorum and then hying off back to Naboo to solve your own problems anyway through the use of military force.”
“I am aware,” Padmé said. “It is hardest to maintain objectivity when your own people are dying, but I want to be part of a Senate that feels that way about all people.”
“You are an idealist,” Bonteri said. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“I know,” Padmé said. “I have worked very hard on it.”
“More tea?” Bonteri asked, holding out the pot.
“Thank you,” Padmé said. “I would like to hear how your plans for educational reform are going, if you have the time.”
Bonteri did, and so they spent a pleasant thirty minutes imagining how they would rework the system if they had unlimited money, time, and personnel, and then a somewhat less pleasant time hashing out what was possible with the resources Bonteri actually had.
“We could do so much more if people would listen,” Padmé said.
“People are listening,” Bonteri said. “They’re just not paying attention.”
Padmé’s comm chimed, and she remembered that she had to get home to give Cordé and Dormé their briefings on the committee meeting. It was unlikely that either of them would ever have to fill in for her in the actual room, but they needed to know all the salient details in case they were doubling for her at an unrelated function and the subject came up. It was complicated and probably overpreparedness taken to the extreme, but Padmé had relied on her handmaidens for too long to give them up now.
“I must be going,” she said. “Thank you for the tea.”
“Any time, Senator,” Bonteri said. “I am always available if you need to vent your frustrations at our parliamentary process.”
Her own chime sounded, and she made a face. “Well, almost always available.”
Padmé considered what Bonteri had said while she made her way back to the residence. Some senators would prize her allegiance to Naboo, while others would distrust her for it. Some appreciated her aloof persona, while others required he
r to be more gregarious. And some were always going to dislike her, no matter what she did, because they believed the Trade Federation’s lies about her. Her objective had not changed: rather than alter herself completely to meet the restrictions her colleagues felt were appropriate, she would forge on as she was doing. She was going to need a faction to support her at some point, but she would decide what that would be when the time came.
Typho was waiting for her at the shuttle, clearly frustrated by the amount of time she had been out from under his direct supervision. No matter now often she reminded him that the senatorial guards were highly trained and exceptionally loyal, he still preferred it when the responsibility of her safety fell to him or to Mariek. It wasn’t exactly the way that Captain Panaka had fumed over her protection but it was familiar enough to be a comfort. Padmé resolved to make sure Typho had an easier time of it in the coming days. They had taken advantage of him lately, and the strain was starting to show.
“Thank you for waiting, Sergeant,” she said to him now. “I know you don’t like it when I am off by myself.”
“Your meeting ended more than an hour ago, my lady,” he said. “Checking in by the remote isn’t the same as a physical confirmation.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Padmé said.
“Next time?” he sounded resigned to his fate.
“Yes, next time,” Padmé said. “There will be other meetings, and I’ll want some time to think privately when they’re done, too.”
“Perhaps we can make arrangements for that,” Typho said. “If you went to a fixed location, I could—”
“I’ve been thinking about bringing that astromech unit with me,” Padmé interrupted. “It’s not exactly procedure, but plenty of senators have their own droids.”
“Artoo-Detoo is not a defensive unit,” Typho said.
“No, but he has recording capabilities and he can call for help if need be,” Padmé said. “Also, he can electroshock anyone who gets closer than I want them to. It makes them think I’m a bit low-tech, being tailed by a mechanic, but—”
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