Queen''s Shadow

by E. K. Johnston

  “My friend,” the chief councilor said to Senator Gaans, and the two embraced. She was slightly taller than the senator, with light brown skin and short-cropped hair that had a light greenish cast to it. “It is so good to see you. I wish only that it was under better circumstances.”

  “And I wish I had been here when it happened,” Gaans replied. “Though I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “You were where we needed you to be,” the councilor said. “Because of you, the Senate’s response was swift.”

  “I hope so,” Gaans replied. “Allow me to introduce Jedi Master Depa Billaba, Senator Mina Bonteri of Onderon, Senator Rush Clovis of Scipio, and Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo. They have come to help assess the damage so that we can be specific with what aid we ask of the Senate. This is Councilor Eema, the chair of our planetary government.”

  “I am afraid we can’t really accommodate you,” Eema said.

  “Please don’t worry on our account,” Clovis said, stepping to the front. “We are going to stay on the ship, and we can move around wherever you need us to be. Moreover, I know it isn’t much, but I purchased what relief supplies I could before we left Coruscant. The hold is crammed full of ration bars and medical supplies. It’s not a lot, but I hope you can use it.”

  Padmé thought about how much space there was in her quarters, of how many more supplies could have been made to fit in if she and Bonteri had shared, and ground her teeth together. Clovis was trying, but she was good at this and could have given him advice had he asked. At least he brought useful supplies.

  “Thank you,” Eema said. “We can only spare one liaison, but we do appreciate your help.”

  The councilors waited while the supply crates were offloaded, and then rode back into the city with them packed into several of the shuttles that were waiting on the landing pad. The liaison remained behind, standing awkwardly as she watched the process unfolding. She had clearly never seen a Jedi before and didn’t quite know how to act around one. Padmé went over to stand beside her.

  “The first time I saw a Jedi, I was running for my life,” she said. “It gets a bit easier when you remember they’re still sentient beings, like us. They just say strange things from time to time.”

  “Someday, I would like to hear that story, Senator,” the liaison said. “Excuse me, my name is Ninui.”

  “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Ninui,” Padmé said. “Now, where would you like us to begin? Is it easier if we take the ship back into orbit so that you can use this landing pad?”

  “It might be,” Ninui said. “I’m sorry, I am thinking of a million things a minute.”

  “Let’s go back on board,” Clovis said. “You’ll have some quiet to think, and we can get you some food. I imagine you’ve been on the move a lot.”

  Ninui looked up at Clovis and smiled. Padmé was impressed. So far, he’d been almost tactful. They went back into the ship. R2-D2 stayed behind to introduce himself to the docking computer, and Depa Billaba stared out over the landscape, though Padmé couldn’t imagine what she was doing. She led Ninui into the viewing room. Clovis brought her a tray of food and a caf, and Bonteri and her secretary joined them after a few moments.

  “I think the simpler we can keep this the better,” Bonteri said. “It will be easier for you, and it will certainly be easier for the Senate.”

  “I agree,” Padmé said. “Ninui, can you tell us what your people need right now, what they’ll need in a month, and what they’ll need in a year?”

  “Well,” Ninui swallowed her last mouthful of caf, and Clovis refilled the cup. “Right now we need water. In a month, we’ll need food, and in a year, we’ll be back to needing water.”

  “And to get water, you need the aqueduct fixed,” Bonteri

  said.

  “It’s more complicated than that,” Ninui said. “It’s raining in Dravabi Province. Without the aqueduct to carry that water to other parts of the planet, there will be flooding.”

  “So what you need is water control,” Padmé said.

  “That still means fixing the aqueduct,” Clovis said.

  “Yes, but I think Padmé is right to make the distinction,” Bonteri said. “Shipping water is hard, but there’s plenty of moisture in the air here if we needed to set up temporary moisture farms. Only that wouldn’t solve anything, because the problem is where the water is.”

  “What do you need to fix the aqueduct?” Padmé asked. “We saw it from orbit, but the details on its construction were pretty scarce.”

  “We need permacrete,” Ninui said. “We don’t have the necessary chemicals to make our own here, not even one of the knockoff versions, so we usually import it. But now we need a lot of it.”

  Padmé leaned back in her chair.

  “One of the committees I serve on deals with the transportation of permacrete, and we’ve made the shipment process a bit less onerus,” she said. “It will still take me some time, but I think I can at least get the supply lines running again.”

  “That would be good,” Ninui said. “The dealer we use can’t get enough of it for us.”

  “Can you have someone draw up an order of repair?” Bonteri asked. “If there’s flooding, we should repair those regions first, and then move down the line.”

  “That’s actually already a part of our disaster planning,” Ninui said. “We just haven’t got as far as implementing it yet.”

  “Excellent,” Bonteri said. “Don’t worry about remembering all of this, by the way. My secretary will send you their notes.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Ninui put her head on the table, and Padmé reached out to pat her on the back. “I have never been so tired. I’m afraid if I stop, I’ll never get moving again.”

  Clovis was looking at her with a strange expression on his face. Padmé knew that his personal history was not free of tragedy—losing her parents was one of her deepest fears, and Clovis had lost both of his when he was quite young—even though his story had a happy ending with his adoptive father. Perhaps this was the first time he had ever witnessed suffering on this scale. Padmé was glad he was becoming aware but frustrated that it took the near-complete destruction of a planet’s eco-financial system to do it. Maybe this was why Naboo encouraged its children to go into public service at such young ages: it ensured they were awake.

  “Can you give our pilot coordinates to anything we need to see?” Clovis asked gently. “The bridge has comfortable seats, so you might get a bit of rest there while you keep working.”

  Ninui picked her head up and cracked her neck.

  “Yes,” she said. “I can do that.”

  “I’ll go get Artoo and see if Master Billaba wants to come,” Padmé said.

  She went back down the ramp and sent R2-D2 inside. Billaba hadn’t moved from the spot where they had left her. Padmé went over, making as much noise as possible as she walked. Billaba turned around when she was no more than a few paces away.

  “Senator?” she said.

  “We’re going to do an aerial survey,” Padmé told her. “Would you like to come along? I would appreciate if you could give the Jedi Council a firsthand account.”

  “Of course,” Billaba said.

  They had only taken a few steps before Billaba stopped and, for the first time, looked directly at Padmé. She did her best not to squirm. It was more than a little disconcerting.

  “You have not changed very much since the first time I met you,” Billaba said. Padmé wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that, and it must have shown on her face, but the Jedi Master continued. “You have grown, of course. You are wiser. You are more balanced. But you haven’t changed. You are still the person who took on the Trade Federation, and I think you always will be.”

  It was probably the oddest compliment Padmé had ever received, including the time a small boy on a desert world had assumed she was an angel, but she was pleased by it nonetheless. She had been wondering about herself. About the path she
would take. Jedi could see things that no one else did, and Padmé trusted in their vision, as much as any non-Jedi could.

  The trip back to Coruscant seemed endless. All Padmé wanted to do was get to work, and instead she had to content herself with writing down her plans to make sure she didn’t forget anything when it was finally time to go before the Senate. It was determined that Senator Bonteri would make the official report, and then they would decide their next move based on the reaction. Padmé was cautiously optimistic.

  Clovis came to see her just before the ship dropped out of hyperspace. She was less frustrated by him now, but she still didn’t enjoy his company the way he seemed to enjoy hers.

  “Senator Amidala,” Clovis said, “may I come in?”

  “Please,” she said, and waved him toward one of the empty chairs.

  “I wanted to thank you for coming on this trip,” Clovis said. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but I do know I was overwhelmed by it. I couldn’t have done anything without you around to clear everything up.”

  “You did well with Ninui,” Padmé said. “She needed support, and you could see that clearly enough.”

  “It’s a little easier when it’s just one person,” Clovis admitted. “You could look at the whole planet and not flinch.”

  “I do have a certain amount of practice,” she reminded him.

  “It’s not just the queen part, is it?” he asked. “There’s something else.”

  Padmé took a deep breath. It was a painful memory, because it contained so many good and terrible things. But she was going to have to keep working with Clovis, and telling him would cost her nothing.

  “My father did a lot of relief work when I was very young,” she said. “Before he confined himself to only building on Naboo, he built houses and so many other things everywhere you can think of. When I was old enough, I went with him.

  “I was seven, and the planet we were evacuating was called Shadda-Bi-Boran. The sun was dying and we managed to relocate the entire populace, but we couldn’t replicate the environment properly. Whatever nutrients they got from their sun, they couldn’t get anywhere else.”

  “What happened?” Clovis asked.

  “They died,” Padmé said. “All of them. I have a few pictures, and there was a monument built afterward, but that’s all that’s left.”

  Clovis searched her face, looking for something, though she wasn’t sure what.

  “You would do it again,” he said.

  “Of course I would,” Padmé said. “Maybe next time, one of our scientists would figure it out soon enough to save someone. Maybe next time, there would be survivors. I would try a thousand times, Clovis, even if I only ever saved one being. I would try ten thousand times.”

  She could tell he believed her.

  The ship dropped out of hyperspace, and the pilot came on the comm to tell them all to prepare for landing. Clovis didn’t say anything else until they were on the ground.

  “I know we came to the Senate for different reasons,” he said, standing up. “You had your expectations to fulfill, and I had mine. But I think we could do all right together, if you wanted to.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

  “I’ll look forward to it, Amidala,” he said.

  “It’s Padmé,” she told him. “I don’t mind if you call me Padmé when there is no one else around.”

  She had no idea what had led her to say that. Almost no one outside of her family and inner circle had permission to use that name.

  “I’ve always been partial to Clovis,” he said. “It’s the name I shared with my parents.”

  “On Naboo, we call people by the names they wish to be called,” Padmé said. “The previous captain of my guard was called Panaka, but his wife chose to go by Mariek to avoid confusion, though she is still Captain Panaka if we are being formal, or if a stranger is talking to her.”

  “What if someone wants to change their name?” Clovis asked.

  Padmé picked up her carrysack and hoisted it over her shoulder.

  “Then you call them by their new name,” Padmé told him.

  He nodded, and walked with her to the top of the ramp, where Padmé said her farewells to Master Billaba. Bonteri was waiting for her at the bottom, and Padmé hurried down so as not to delay her. It was vital that Bonteri get herself onto the speaking schedule as soon as possible.

  “I’m not too hopeful,” Bonteri admitted as their speeder pulled away from the landing pad. “I know we kept everything as simple as possible, but I just don’t know if the Senate will pull together.”

  “I know you will do everything you can to help Bromlarch,” Padmé said. “And I will, too.”

  “Will Clovis?” Bonteri said.

  “You know,” Padmé mused, “I really think he might.”

  “At least we’ll have that,” Bonteri said.

  The speeder dropped Senator Bonteri off first and then took Padmé back to her apartment. She let Dormé and Cordé dress her in something that wasn’t covered with the dust of a fractured world and then requested that anyone who was free to eat with her join her for dinner. All three handmaidens, Varbarós, Typho, and two other guards were sitting at the table when she arrived. Mariek was on duty but drifted in to hear the salient points of Padmé’s summary.

  “I’d like to volunteer our ship as part of any convoy that goes,” Padmé concluded. “Even if we’re only ferrying people. Is that doable?”

  “The ship will be ready whenever you need her,” Varbarós

  said.

  “I’d like to request two Republic patrol ships as an escort,” Mariek said. “With our pilots.”

  “Sabé and Tonra can do it,” Padmé said. “Then Typho can stay close to me, and Mariek can organize everyone else.”

  She paused thoughtfully.

  “I would like to ask Master Billaba to accompany us, as well,” she said. “She can fly her own ship from the Jedi Temple, or one that we provide her with.”

  “I like that idea, my lady.” Typho nodded. “If this becomes a regular thing, we should call up some N-1s from home. We have the space to dock them, and I think we’d all prefer it if the fighters were flown, stored, and maintained by our own people.”

  “I agree,” Padmé said. “I’ll sign the requisition after you write it.”

  “There’s still very little in the newsnets about Bromlarch,” Versé said. “But I imagine that will change when the Senate debates start.”

  Padmé yawned.

  “Please excuse me, I’m exhausted,” she said. “It was a nonstop few days. Thank you, Versé. We know better than any how the newsnets prefer a scandal, so I’m not really surprised.”

  “Do you want to give them a scandal?” Versé asked. “I’ve sliced in enough now that I’m sure I could.”

  “Let’s try the Senate first,” Padmé said. She could hardly believe she was giving Versé’s proposal any consideration in the least. “Though we can always hold a scandal in reserve. This is politics, after all.”

  The next morning, Padmé dressed for a fight. It was a subtle variation on the actual battle dress Sabé had worn during the Battle of Naboo, only without the headpiece or face paint. The underdress was black, with wide sleeves. Over it went a deep yellow dress with shorter sleeves, which left the black fabric free for Padmé to theoretically conceal things in her hands if need be. Over that went a black tabard, held in place by a wide belt that would accommodate her blaster if she were carrying one. Dormé twisted her hair into the coronet of braids again, and then Padmé was ready.

  She arrived at the Senate building as early as she could and went straight to Senator Bonteri’s office. The door was open, and Padmé could hear her talking to someone, so she hesitated before she knocked. It was an unfamiliar voice—deep and commanding of attention—and Padmé couldn’t help overhearing.

  “Do as you must,” the mysterious speaker said. “But if you cannot control the situation, I will step in and control it for
you.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Senator Bonteri did not sound happy about whatever it was.

  Padmé heard nothing further and assumed the conversation had ended. She was curious about what she had heard—both Bonteri and the unknown contact had seemed deadly serious—but more than curiosity, a strange dread settled in her stomach, and she was eager to dislodge the feeling. She counted to fifteen before she took the last few steps and knocked on the door.

  “Good morning,” Bonteri said cheerfully. It was a completely different tone of voice.

  “Hello,” Padmé said. “I came to see if you needed anything?”

  “No,” Bonteri said a bit curtly, despite her lighter countenance. “I was able to get us on the schedule right away. It should go well.”

  “Excellent,” said Padmé. She decided to let it go and focus on the main goal. “I’ll be in the gallery if something comes up.”

  Padmé walked to her seat and waited for Typho to meet her. The Senate chamber was so large that she didn’t like being by herself in the pod, even though she was sure the room was one of the safest places in the entire galaxy. Also, she was too excited to sit still, and she didn’t want anyone to see her fidgeting. At last the time came, and with Typho behind her, she took her seat.

  “The floor recognizes Senator Mina Bonteri of Onderon,” Chancellor Palpatine said. He sounded almost bored.

  “My friends,” Bonteri said, “I have returned from our survey of the damage sustained by the planet of Bromlarch due to recent seismic activity there. You should have received my report in your morning information packet, but I know it is still early, so I will summarize it for you now.”

  While Senator Bonteri talked, Padmé scanned the gallery. It wasn’t easy to see anyone’s face, but she was learning to tell a lot about a senator’s manner by how they sat in their pod. Looking around, she saw far fewer beings leaning forward, listening intently, than she’d hoped. Instead, they reclined or chatted with their associates. Padmé swallowed a surge of resentment and focused on Senator Bonteri, who concluded her summary by giving the details of the plan the Bromlarch Council had submitted.