“It is always wisest to trust those people on the ground,” Bonteri said. “The plan presented by the citizens of Bromlarch is straightforward and will result in the fastest and most efficient repairs.”
Bonteri’s pod floated back to its port, and the Chancellor spoke again.
“The chair recognizes the senator from the Trade Federation,” Palpatine said.
Padmé stiffened. This could not mean anything good.
“What Senators Bonteri and Gaans propose is too much,” Lott Dod began. “We can ask citizens of the Republic to contribute small amounts of their own credits and materials to reconstruction, but the idea of a planetwide rebuild is ridiculous. If Bromlarch requires so much help, they must be able to pay for it in some manner.”
“Senators,” Senator Gaans said, “my people are doing the best they can. I don’t think you understand the scale of the destruction—”
“We do,” Lott Dod interrupted. Padmé looked down, but Palpatine made no sign of interfering. “We also understand the economics. The Trade Federation is happy to come to a private arrangement with the citizens of your planet, if that is something you are willing to consider, but you cannot expect galactic intervention for an internal problem.”
Padmé felt angrier than she had felt in a long time. She would not sit by while the Trade Federation bought a planet out from under its people’s feet.
“We will vote now,” Chancellor Palpatine said.
The voting screen appeared on Padmé’s monitor, and she quickly voted in favor of Senator Bonteri’s motion. She held her breath.
“Motion failed,” Chancellor Palpatine said.
Padmé collapsed back in her seat. She saw defeat slump Bonteri’s shoulders. Senator Gaans had floated close enough that she could see the absolute despair in his face. Lott Dod floated his pod back to its dock and waited.
Padmé was done waiting. Waiting to be seen. Waiting to speak. Waiting to serve. She was going to make something happen if it was the last thing she did as a senator for the Galactic Republic.
Padmé sent Typho to retrieve Senator Gaans and bring him to her office, where she installed him, distraught, in one of the chairs that faced her across the desk. Cordé poured him a caf and then retreated to her usual place behind Padmé’s shoulder. He didn’t drink it.
“Senator, I know it is bleak,” Padmé said. “But you cannot sign that treaty. And you cannot let anyone else sign it, either. The Trade Federation cannot be allowed to buy your planet and your people out from under you. You must resist.”
“I know,” he said. “But how can I resist when the Trade Federation could save them?”
“Save them?” Padmé said. “Senator, the Trade Federation once offered to save my people, too. They put them into camps and starved them, trying to force my hand. This situation is different, I realize that, but you must avoid an outcome that can only favor them.”
“There isn’t even a treaty yet,” Gaans told her. “They’ll need two days to write it, and I’ll get one day to look it over and see if it’s plausible.”
“Plausible?” Padmé thought of fifteen things to say to that and as a result said nothing at all.
There was a chime at the door, and Senator Organa came in. Padmé waved him into a chair beside Gaans.
“I’m sorry, senators,” he said. “We tried.”
“We need to try again,” Padmé said. “You told me that if democracy failed us it was up to us to restore democracy. That’s what I intend to do.”
“They’ll stall you,” Organa said. “I know it’s a horrifying situation, but you can’t fight every evil in the galaxy.”
“Evil?” Padmé said. “I’ve fought evil and it was easy: I shot it. It’s apathy I can’t stand.”
“You may be in the wrong profession,” Gaans said darkly.
“We have three days,” Padmé said. “Surely there’s something.”
Clovis burst into the room and skidded to a halt when he saw that Padmé already had guests. “Senators,” he said. There were no chairs left by the desk, so he remained on his feet.
“What is it, Clovis?” Padmé asked.
“Earlier, what I said about us making a good team?” Clovis said. “This is what I meant. You know people and I know credits, and we have both been trained to negotiate. I know I can help. Please let me.”
Padmé considered it and realized she wasn’t exactly in a position to turn anyone down.
“All right,” she said. “Three days, Clovis. And we can’t just reintroduce the motion. We have to be smarter than that. What do you suggest?”
“We need to focus on the votes,” Clovis said, pacing in front of the window. “The content of the motion is still important, but I think we need to pay more attention to who we’re courting.”
“That’s not how my faction of the Senate is supposed to operate,” Organa protested, but his tone was resigned. He knew as well as she did that his age and experience afforded him greater privilege than she had, and that was before their planets were taken into account.
“And yet here we are,” Clovis said. “The Trade Federation allies just voted down a bill that would save millions of lives because Lott Dod made them blink over it.”
Organa was clearly unhappy with the argument but did not refute it.
“All right,” Padmé said. “There are more systems in the Core represented than there are in the Mid Rim, and a few of the Core Worlds voted in favor of the bill anyway. We need to flip Mid Rim senators, get them to vote with us instead of their allies in the Core who support them.”
“We need to target certain systems,” Clovis said. “There are senators that always vote in blocs. We need to turn the leaders of those blocs, not the members.”
“Malastare,” Padmé said. “They’d bring more than a dozen systems with them, all at the expense of the opposing bloc.”
“You’ll never convince them to change their minds.” Gaans leaned forward and put his head in his hands.
“I’m not going to convince them to change their minds,” Padmé said. “They’re going to do it themselves because they want what I have.”
“What do you have?” Clovis asked.
“I’m working on that,” Padmé said. “We can’t just reintroduce the motion as a relief operation, but what if we introduced it as something more general? If it benefited more than one system, those systems would vote with us. They would bring their allies, and the motion would pass.”
“A motion for Mid Rim cooperation?” Organa said. He was skeptical, but Padmé could tell she had nearly convinced him. “In the wake of the recent run of piracy, you’d certainly have public opinion on your side, and you’d make the Chancellor look good, so you’d have him, too.”
“We might call it something else,” Padmé said. “But yes.”
“What does Malastare want?” Gaans asked.
“They want political power,” Padmé said. “Their senator was not elected chancellor when Valorum was unseated, and they have been backsliding ever since.”
“We can’t give them power,” Organa said.
“No,” Clovis said, and Padmé knew that he was keeping up with her. “But we can give them credits, which is almost the same thing.”
“You’re going to buy their fuel reserves?” Gaans asked. “For what purpose?”
“It’s the Mid Rim Cooperation motion,” Padmé said. “Someone else is going to buy the fuel. We just need to figure out who.”
Padmé stood and went over to the more comfortable seats in the other corner of her office. There were low tables where they could work and the light was good. Clovis followed her and sat down. He reached into the bag he carried for several datapads and a stylus. Padmé looked back at Organa, who got to his feet.
“My schedule is full today, so I can’t stay here and help,” he said. “But I’ll have my comlink with me if you have any questions. And I’ll try to come back later.”
Padmé knew that there were other crises in the galaxy r
ight now, and tried to tell herself that he wasn’t abandoning her because he thought she was working on a lost cause.
“I need to go talk to Eema and the other councilors back home,” Senator Gaans said. “We have a lot to discuss.”
“Please take care of yourself,” Padmé said. “They’re going to need you, and so are we.”
He gave her a weak smile, and then he and Senator Organa left the room. Padmé sat next to Clovis, for the first time completely interested in what it was he was going to say.
“All right then,” she said. “Malastare for credits and fuel. Where do we go from there?”
The next three days were draining in a way that Padmé had never experienced. She thought she’d known exhaustion after the Occupation. Constantly moving to planets with different diurnal cycles and enduring the mental challenges of maintaining Sabé as her decoy for that length of time while coping with the stress of the military situation on Naboo had been the hardest things she had ever done. This was more like chasing a thread across a room that was carpeted with other threads, some of which she needed but most of which would only tie her down. It required her to pay attention to details and to move quickly, but not too quickly, lest she unravel the whole thing.
She was aware that Cordé, Dormé, and Versé had all come and gone, switching places to ensure that some of them were well rested while Padmé drove herself on. Typho, Mariek, and the other guards rotated through, as well. She had no idea if Clovis’s security was in the corridor, but if they were they never came into the room. Food was brought, and Padmé could not recall eating any of it—though the fact that she didn’t pass out indicated that she probably had. They slept sitting up, when their weariness overcame them, usually to be awakened the next time one of them made a breakthrough.
In the end, the Mid Rim Cooperation motion involved more than a dozen key systems, a variety of different resources, and the heads of every bloc they needed to sway in order to lure sufficient votes away from the Trade Federation. Padmé was scrambling to finish her speech as the chronometer ran down.
“All we have to do now is sell it to them,” Clovis said. “I think this was actually the easy part.”
“I’ll get us on the schedule,” Padmé said. “I haven’t called in a single favor from the Chancellor since I got here, but this is worth it.”
“I’m going to my office to change,” Clovis said. “I’ll see you out there?”
“Yes,” Padmé said. “Thank you, Clovis.”
“We’ll have to do it again sometime,” Clovis said, and yawned. “But later.”
When he was gone, Versé helped Padmé to change into a fresh dress that Dormé had delivered the previous afternoon. Then she contacted the Chancellor’s office to make her scheduling request.
“Senator Amidala,” Palpatine said, “we have missed you in the gallery these past few days.”
“I’ve been working on a motion I think the Senate should hear immediately,” Padmé told him. “It benefits Bromlarch, but it also grants advantages to several other Mid Rim worlds, and it might help the Senate deal with the piracy issue, as well, if we can line everything up. I think it has a good chance of passing.”
“Wonderful,” the Chancellor said. “Though I must caution you to tamper your optimism. I have seen all manner of motions fail, even when I thought they were sound.”
“I know,” Padmé said. “But I think this motion will garner support across faction lines. It could unify the Senate.”
“Or circumvent it,” Palpatine said. He looked pensive, and Padmé knew he was considering all of the options. He might see something she had not, some opportunity or pitfall. He smiled. “But I have faith in you, Senator. Your course of action is always for the good of the Republic.”
“I just need time to present it, Chancellor,” she told him. “As soon as possible.”
“I’ll have you scheduled first for today, if you will be there?” he said.
“I will, Chancellor,” Padmé said. “And thank you.”
“Of course, my dear, of course,” Palpatine said, and ended the call.
Padmé stood and stretched as much as she could and then put her shoes back on to head out to the floor. She paused in the center of the room as something occurred to her. In all the flurry, she’d barely kept track of anything but the datapad in front of her nose, but she was still aware of who had and had not been in the room at any given time.
Mina Bonteri had not come to help them.
“Senators of the Galactic Republic,” Amidala said, “the last time I spoke to you, it was to ask for aid to be given to my planet. I stand before you now with a similar request, but for systems that are not my own. Our service here is done in the name of our homeworlds, but we represent all the citizens of the Republic, and it is by virtue of this coalition that we are able to undertake greater tasks than we would as individuals.”
Senator Amidala’s pod hovered in the middle of the assembly, and every eye was on her. Dormé had done her makeup in a new way, so that each brush stroke highlighted the uniqueness of her features rather than overwhelming them. It had taken a while to perfect, and she’d had to practice the technique on anyone she could get her hands on, since Padmé was busy, but the overall effect was undeniable: Padmé Amidala stood before her colleagues with her own face, as open and genuine as she could be.
Padmé had dressed for the part, as well. The outfit Cordé had designed had wide blue trousers, cut in a Coruscanti fashion but embroidered with Naboo designs. Over a smocked white shirt, Padmé wore a sharp jacket that came down below her knees and was open at the front to show the details sewn into the lining. Her shoes were plain and comfortable, in case she had to remain standing and take questions when the speech was done.
Versé had embedded fabro-refractors of her own programming into key parts of the outfit. They ensured that Padmé was always lit from a perfect angle. There would be no shadowed, unflattering pictures in the holonews when the session was over. Every part of Naboo that Padmé had brought with her was on display right now but made over so that the Galactic Republic would accept her as a senator, not a queen.
“The planets of the Mid Rim have been under siege by pirates and we have not acted against them,” she continued. “I understand your hesitancy, for it is mine, too: I am reluctant to arm the galaxy any more than it needs. But my friends, we do have some need. Our shipments are being taken, and the pirates who take them are only looking for security and enough food to feed their own. We must act swiftly.”
The recorders buzzed around her, and Padmé knew that she had finally captured everyone’s attention for the reasons she wanted. The other senators, even her allies—who more or less knew what she was going to say—were shifting toward her, hanging on her every word.
“Appearing on your screens now is the Mid Rim Cooperation motion,” Padmé continued. “You will note that a number of systems benefit from the proposed trades and acquisitions.”
She gave them a moment to start reading. There was quite a bit of detail, given the number of planets involved, but she didn’t want to lose too much momentum.
“Not only are we able to send necessary resources to Bromlarch,” her voice rang through the speakers, “Bromlarch will be able to pay for the supplies without going into debt, and the whole of the Mid Rim will benefit.”
She paused again. There were hushed whispers now, not out of rudeness but because the senators and their staffs were discussing the terms. Padmé took a deep breath and launched into the final section of her address.
“But we cannot continue to send such valuable resources to star systems without adequate protection,” she said. “Since this is a Republic exercise, it must be guarded by Republic ships. Only then can we guarantee the safe passage of the Wookiee laborers to Bromlarch. Only then can we guarantee the safe trade of credits for fuel between Malastare and Sivad. Only then can we guarantee that the ships carrying food from Thiafeña and Naboo to Bromlarch will arrive intact.
Lott Dod was frantically trying to get the floor to recognize him, but his attempts went unanswered. Instead, Palpatine acknowledged Malastare.
“There is wisdom in this motion.” Aks Moe had a reedy voice, but the amplification system ensured everyone heard his words. Padmé could almost see them calculating how many credits Malastare would make in profit as a result of the trades. “The Congress of Malastare seconds.”
There was a loud crowing noise a few levels above where Padmé’s pod was floating as the Wookiees, never much for procedure, added a third supporter to the motion.
“We will vote, then,” Palpatine said. He still did not acknowledge the Neimoidian senator, who was fuming in his seat as a result.
It was to the divine powers that looked over Naboo and Gungan alike—and whoever else might be listening—that Padmé addressed a quiet “Please” as she voted in favor of her plan. It only took a few seconds for the votes to tally, but she felt like it was an eternity.
“Motion passes,” Palpatine announced.
Cheers went up all around as Padmé’s pod returned to its dock. When she was absolutely sure the recorders had been distracted, she allowed herself a satisfied smile. Palpatine continued with the day’s schedule, but she was almost too elated to pay attention. It seemed like hours passed before the session finished and Padmé could finally get back to her office. Clovis arrived shortly afterward and cheered as soon as she admitted him.
“You did it!” he said.
“We did it.” Padmé was more than willing to share the credit. “I couldn’t have gotten everything finished so quickly without your insights.”
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