Chapter Text
Padmé's hands shook as she tried to wash the soot and blood off her hands. She had barely stepped foot off her shuttle in Coruscant when her vehicle exploded on the landing platform, killing several of her handmaidens instantly, including Cordé. Typho believed that there was no threat, but Padmé disagreed. Thank the Force that she had listened to her gut instincts and used her handmaidens as cover. But she hated being right because her dear friend was now dead.
Dead because of her.
"Senator," Typho's voice came from the other side of the bathroom door. "I just received a message from the Jedi Council. They would like to meet with you and the Chancellor as soon as possible to discuss what happened on the landing platform."
Padmé nodded, continuing to scrub her hands under the running water. She still saw red, but she was no longer sure if it was real or in her mind. She had seen enough violence in her young life recalling fighting for Naboo when she was still a young queen of fourteen, so what she witnessed today wasn't new. But it was the first time that a victim was someone so close. Too close.
She glanced in the mirror but quickly looked back at her hands. She didn't want to see her reflection right now. Seeing her face meant seeing Cordé's. That was what made her so valuable. Her friend allowed Padmé to travel freely, knowing that Cordé's life being was the one in danger instead of the senator's being the price for it.
And now that price had been paid.
"Senator?"
Padmé realized that she had not responded to her head of security.
"Thank you, Typho. Did they say when we should meet with them?"
"About two hours."
Enough time to shower, at least. "Tell my handmaidens I would like to bathe and be dressed before going to the Senate."
"As you wish, Senator."
Padmé knew she had a few more minutes before the bath would be prepared, so she poured more soap into her hands and scrubbed. Her hands were red now, but she still saw blood.
"Senator," Dormé said in a soft voice, pulling Padmé's hand from the sink. "You can stop now. Your bath is ready."
Padmé's said nothing as she allowed her handmaiden to pull her towards the bath, and removed her clothes, which still smelled like the burning residue of her shuttle.
She didn't look at the clock as she sat in the bath. Her mind kept replaying the explosion over and over again. It was so important that she be in Coruscant. This vote against the Military Creation Act was so important. It was as if the Galactic Republic wanted war. Considering that someone wanted her dead over this vote meant that having such firepower was clearly beneficial to someone. But who?
Her gut told her that it was Dooku. She knew that the former Jedi was courting the Trade Federation to join his separatist movement. Gunray's thirst for revenge for what happened ten years ago remained unsatiated. But it had to be more than that. Dooku claimed that the Republic was corrupt and full of war mongers, but that wasn't true. She stood on the floor during the debates; she knew that they wanted reconciliation, and Dooku claimed to want that as well. But Padmé didn't believe it. She believed that he wanted the Republic's military to be created so that he could claim that they were the aggressors and thus spark a civil war. Padmé was the leader fighting against the vote and her death could cripple the movement.
This was certainly a question for the Jedi. Hopefully, they would listen.
Shit, what time was it?
She scrambled out of the tub and threw a towel around her shoulders. Luckily, a costume had been chosen, so she was dressed in seconds. Her handmaidens were putting the final touches in her hair when it was time for her to get into a vehicle and drive to the Senate.
It was Bail Organ's vehicle, with the Senator of Alderaan sitting inside.
"Padmé," the relief in his voice was palpable. "Thank the Force that you're safe."
"But not for long, I fear. It was a close call on that landing pad. Too close. Hopefully, the Jedi will help us figure out who did it."
They drove in silence. Padmé's gaze remained at the window, watching the millions of other vehicles whiz by. She loved the hustle and bustle of the planet, such a glaring difference to the quite and idyllic life on Naboo. It was part of why she loved politics, her heart raced when she debated on the Senate floor. The rush of it was almost as good as sex. Almost. She loved seeing how her words could move mountains and affect legislation. She always assumed that the pen was mightier than the sword.
But today proved a reminder that the sword was still deadly.
They arrived at the Senate to find the Jedi Council already in Palpatine's office.
"Senator Amidala," Yoda approached her with open arms. "Your tragedy on the landing platform - terrible. Seeing you alive brings warm feelings to my heart."
She smiled at him. The small but wise Jedi always made her feel safe. He would certainly do whatever it took to help her find out who wants her dead. "Do you have any idea who was behind this attack?"
"Our intelligence points to disgruntled spice miners on the moons of Naboo," said Mace Windu from his position near Palpatine's desk.
Padmé furrowed her eyebrows. That attack was too complex and large for spice miners. They would have hit her on Naboo, made an example before the whole planet. "I think Count Dooku was behind it."
"He's a political idealist, not a murderer," said Ki-Adi-Mundi.
"You know, milady," said Mace Windu. "Count Dooku was once a Jedi. He couldn't assassinate anyone. It's not in his character."
Padmé fought to roll her eyes. Jedi were still human, and those who fell from the order were more likely to give in to their human instincts.
Yoda cleared his throat. "But for certain, Senator, in grave danger you are."
"Master Jedi," said Palpatine, finally joining the conversation. "May I suggest the senator be placed under the protection of your graces?"
"Do you really think that's a wise decision under these stressful times?" asked Bail at Padmé's side.
He was certainly more diplomatic than she wanted to respond. She did not need a babysitter. "Chancellor, if I may comment, I do not believe— "
"The situation is that serious?" Palpatine interrupted, white eyebrows raised. He approached her, his robes floating about him. "No, but I do, Senator. I realize all too well that additional security might be disruptive for you, but perhaps someone you're familiar with. An old friend, like Master Kenobi."
Padmé's heart raced. She had not seen Obi-Wan since the Naboo and the Gungans made peace during her reign. She had had such a huge crush on him and even followed whatever news stories she could find on him. He did make her feel safe, even back then when he was still a Padawan. Perhaps the Chancellor was right, someone like Obi-Wan would be a preferable bodyguard.
"That's possible," said Windu with a nod. "He's just returned from a border dispute on Anion."
Palpatine's eyes softened as he met Padmé's. "Do it for me, milady. Please? The thought of losing you is unbearable."
All eyes turned to Padmé. Maybe she should put her pride aside. This vote was too important to worry about whether she could prove that she was the master of her safety. She should take care of her life, the vote was counting on it. She gave the chancellor a nod and a smile.
"I will have Obi-Wan report to you immediately, milady." Mace gave her a bow.
"Thank you, Master Windu."