We Are Brave, Your Highness

Summary: . . . or, how Queen Amidala delights in giving me, plain Sabé the handmaiden turned royal decoy, panic attacks. How in all the galaxies was I supposed to know what THAT meant? (Oneshot. Sabé tries to figure out the famous phrase from TPM)

Rating: K

Genre: humor ; friendship

Canon Character(s): Handmaiden Sabé ; Queen Padmé Amidala ; Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn ; Padawan Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi ; Governor Sio Bibble ; Captain Panaka

OC Character(s): none

Set During: TPM

Note: This fic focuses on the famous quote by Padmé of "We are brave, Your Highness". I've always wondered how Sabé decided that meant go instead of stay, because I assume that beforehand there was no preparation as Padmé didn't know the Jedi had survived and were coming, and therefore I didn't think she would prepare to leave her people. So here's my attempt to basically poke some fun at it and see what happens. After all, this fic's genre was humor for a reason.

"How will you explain this invasion to the Senate?" Governor Bibble demanded immediately.

I concentrated on walking, only listening with half an ear as Governor Bibble continued his furious tirade against the Trade Federation viceroy and other Neimoidians. He had been doing that for the past half an hour since the Trade Federation's army had reached Theed and surrounded the palace.

I had not bothered; Queen Amidala had instructed me to speak as little as possible, so that the chance of our little switch was revealed was as small as possible.

Besides, I was just a handmaiden, not a Queen. Queen Amidala would know exactly what to say right now.

I only knew the few prepared phrases she had coached to me beforehand when we had hurriedly taken her out of the Queen outfit, put me in one, and got her a handmaiden outfit, quickly sketching out every possible scenario in the meantime – and all of the responses Queen Amidala thought would fit each scenario.

Like when the Neimoidians had first entered the throne room.

The viceroy, Nute Gunray, had followed the script to the letter, announcing easily that he had brought the Queen to the throne room –

And there I had interrupted, as planned. I had said, as grandly and as close to Queen Amidala's voice as possible, "I was not brought. This is my throne room. I do not recognize your authority, Nute Gunray."*

Silently, I had cheered as he stuttered and floundered for words for a moment. He hadn't expected any resistance after taking the planet, the capital, and the palace so easily. But he had regained his footing not long afterwards, speaking immediately of a treaty he wanted me – Queen Amidala – to sign.

Which I technically couldn't.

But, of course, he didn't need to know that.

Even now, he was saying, "The Naboo and the Federation will forge a treaty that will legitimize our occupation here. I've been assured it will be ratified by the Senate." He looked at me as he spoke. Not the Governor; me.

Blast.

Now I had to respond.

Quickly, I scrambled for an Amidala-like reply, finally settling upon one that seemed in accordance with her wishes, even though she had never explicitly stated it.

"I will not cooperate," I said.

The viceroy's steps faltered again at my unexpected defiance; he recovered this time by stopping entirely on the stairs. "Now, now, Your Highness," he sneered patronizingly. "You are not going to like what we have in store for your people. In time, their suffering will persuade you to see our point of view."

And I – and therefore Queen Amidala – was left to ponder that happy prospect.

"Commander. Process them," the viceroy said.

"Yes, sir!" the droid responded at once. "Take them to Camp Four."

We were matched out of the palace and into the plaza at a relentless pace. It took everything I had to keep my head upright, my posture regal, and my face impassive. Queen Amidala's people were here. I had to act – for my Queen, for them.

Inwardly, though, I was dying.

The dress was black, and despite the billowing adornments of black feathers, the corset that went with it was unbelievably tight, uncomfortable, and stifling. I had to almost completely concentrate on breathing instead of putting one foot in front of the other without falling over, as I should have; keeping my balance with the large headdress and not tripping over the skirt were problems in and of themselves.

Now of all times, I really didn't envy the Queen. At all.

I snuck a glance back over my shoulder as we entered a small side street. Eirtaé, Rabé, Saché, and Yané all surrounded the Queen – in perfect entourage formation without it looking suspicious. Even Captain Panaka's presence to my rear didn't seem odd, as Governor Bibble was to my right and in front.

I breathed a small sigh of relief. The Queen sticking out was our greatest fear; thank the stars no one seemed to notice anything different. Not even Governor Bibble seemed to notice that the handmaidens were converged around one of their own instead of the Queen, as usual.

Or . . . perhaps he had noticed and was simply pretending not to in order to help with the deception. Sometimes, the man did genuinely – albeit rarely – surprise me with his insight.

I stumbled and nearly cursed, but thankfully at the same moment someone coughed, and my curse was lost.

Focus, Sabé, focus, I scolded myself, returning my attention to breathing and walking. Don't lose control now. You can't give away the Queen. This is your duty. You've trained for it. Don't lose control. Just focus. Inhale in, exhale out; right foot, left foot. Inhale in, exhale out; right foot, left foot. Inhale in, exhale out; right foot, left foot –

And suddenly there was a blur of brown and tan out of the corner of my eye, and the entire company came to a halt.

I looked up sharply, wincing as the headdress bounced, just in time to see the two men – one older with noble features and an air of quiet wisdom; the other, younger and brimming with energy and skill – before I blinked and they blurred into motion again, zipping after the droids that guarded us.

One blink. Three droids down.

Two blinks. Five more droids down.

Three blinks. All droids down.

In less than three blinks. Less than three breaths. Less than three seconds.

After that, I didn't need to see the shiny metal hilts both men tucked back into their belts, or note the peculiar uniform of beige tunics and dark brown robes and brown combat boots, or even hear the older man's greeting to Governor Bibble and myself.

There was, after all, only one thing they could be.

Jedi Knights.

They were renowned throughout the galaxy, and it was all I could do to not jump around screaming like an adolescent, star-struck girl. But I had just seen two Jedi up close, and even better, in action! And since Naboo was so peaceful, we hadn't seen Jedi in centuries. I had just seen something I would never forget, and it had been amazing – better than any bedtime story or Holonet tabloid!

Eirtaé shifted slightly behind me; I could hear the rustle of her flame-colored robes over her slight cough. I could even imagine her words and tone: Focus, Sabé.

Right. Focus. Queen Amidala.

I took a deep breath, and willed my eyes to turn attentively blank, like the Queen's. The Jedi could possibly, I thought, be trusted with our deception; but that was the Queen's decision, not mine. And revealing a secret to anyone made it less of a secret automatically. So I had to keep playing the game.

"Your Highness, we are the ambassadors for the Supreme Chancellor," the older Jedi said. His voice was strong, clear, and noble as his features suggested; he was clearly the more experienced of the two. He carried an aura of calm about him too, one that calmed my racing heart and aching feet.

Pity it couldn't calm my brain so I could answer.

Thankfully, Governor Bibble covered for me. "Your negotiations seem to have failed, Ambassador," he said sharply.

The Jedi's face grew clouded, but his voice remained clear and light, untouched by the accusation. "The negotiations never took place," he replied smoothly. Then he turned his gaze to me, ignoring the overwhelming surprise on everyone else's faces at his pronouncements.

"Your Highness, we must make contact with the Republic," he told me.

I was way beyond responding logically or understandably at this point. The Trade Federation had attacked two Jedi? That was beyond comprehension! The Jedi were respected and honored – but they were also feared. And if there was one person that had no backbone and would crumple under simple intimidating figures, it was Viceroy Nute Gunray.

So how in blazes did he get the backbone to attack Jedi? I wasn't Queen Amidala, and my forte wasn't politics. But even I could connect those dots. Especially Jedi coming at the request of the Supreme Chancellor himself! And Jedi who, as everyone knows, are in easy contact of 10,000 other of their brethren. . .
Captain Panaka saved me this time, stepping forward to answer the Jedi. "They've knocked out all our communications."

The Jedi didn't even pause. "Do you have transports?" he asked.

I could see surprise on Captain Panaka's face, but he replied dutifully, "In the main hanger. This way."

Now Captain Panaka led the way, which surprised me, as he usually refused to leave the Queen's side – decoy plan intact or otherwise.

But whilst turning a corner, I threw a quick glance back and remembered the second Jedi, the younger one with the braid over his shoulder who had faded into the background during the discussion with the older Jedi, who was bringing up the rear.

Of course the Captain would trust a Jedi.

At least, for now.

When we reached the hangar, Captain Panake pried open the door to the central hangar just a tiny bit – enough for us to see the droids, but not enough for the droids to see us.

I looked inside.

And my heart sank.

I could count over fifty battle droids stationed around the royal Naboo starcraft alone. About a dozen more guarded a group of pilots sitting on the ground some distance away, and a countless more milled about the hangar carrying out various tasks. The only thing the many droids had in common was the deadliest thing of all.

All of them were armed.

And they definitely outnumbered us.

Captain Panaka seemed to come to a similar conclusion. He leaned against the wall, his posture showing defiance mixed with defeat. "There are too many of them," he said resignedly.

I swallowed. I knew what that tone meant. He would die gladly for the Queen, but it would do nothing.

The older Jedi's eyes were already moving to me. He didn't even seem to have registered the fact that our entire group together was outnumbered so completely that there was no way out at all, much less be bothered by it.

I had seen how quickly he and his companion had taken down the droids that had guarded us.

But I didn't believe in miracles.

And I certainly didn't believe that our luck could hold that long.

"That won't be a problem," the older Jedi said calmly. He turned to me, his gaze steady and almost unnerving. "Your Highness, under the circumstances, I suggest you come to Coruscant with us."

For a half nanosecond, I nearly gaped at him.

Then I recovered, and said as calmly as possible, "Thank you, Ambassador, but my place is here with my people."

The Jedi's eyes remained clear, and I could see him incline his head slightly in acquiescence. But then his expression froze, and something seemed to change. He looked at me again, and this time urgency tainted with cold certainty gave a lining of frost and unnatural power to his sharp blue gaze as it rested upon me.

"They will kill you if you stay," he warned.

This time, I wasn't the only one unsettled – or gaping openly at him.

"They wouldn't dare," Governor Bibble countered, his voice sounding as shocked as I felt.

Captain Panaka agreed, "They need her to sign a treaty to make this invasion of theirs legal. They can't afford to kill her."

But there was a strange sort of desperation in their voices, as if they were both struggling to convince not only the Queen and the Jedi, but themselves.

The Jedi remained calm, and didn't acknowledge the others. Instead, he said in a low voice, "The situation here is not what it seems. There is something else behind all this, Your Highness. There is no logic in the Federation's move here." He hesitated before repeating, "My feelings tell me they will destroy you."

His words made sense. Somewhat. Once again, I wasn't the sharpest political mind out there, but I knew as well as anyone that Naboo really had nothing to offer the Trade Federation. We were so small that other planets would look at us and scoff and say, It will never happen to us; we're bigger and stronger and more aggressive than tiny, peaceful, watery Naboo. That, unfortunately, made too much sense, and the Jedi's words rang with me in a way Captain Panaka's and Governor Bibble's did not.

The I realized –

Hold up. My feelings?

He was a Jedi. A Jedi Knight, said to be one of strongest, most powerful, and most lethal warriors in the galaxy. And he was relying on his feelings guide him, like some lovestruck teenager?

Apparently I was the only way to catch the slip. At least, I thought it was a slip.

Governor Bibble, though, was frowning, and I could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he thought. He worked by logic, and the Jedi's words were, if anything, pure logic. And right-sounding logic, too.

Finally, he said, "Please, Your Highness, reconsider. Our only hope is for the Senate to side with us. Senator Palpatine will need your help."

Captain Panaka, though, worked by his passion for his duty – the defense of the Queen above all else. Predictably, he argued, "Getting past their blockade is impossible, Your Highness. Any attempt to escape will be dangerous."

"Your Highness, I will stay here and do what I can," Governor Bibble offered. "They will have to retain the Council of Governors in order to maintain control. But you must leave."

All of me rebelled against the thought. Leave my friends and family behind for my own safety? No! And I knew that the Queen would think the same. Her whole campaign had been about her devotion to bettering the people of Naboo. She was the elected leader, not the leader by dynasty or blood. She held their welfare above her own. A Governor was not the same as the Queen; the Naboo people would look to the Queen now, in times of trouble, not the Governor.

But I could not make this decision.

It was Queen Amidala's to make. Now I just had to find a way to ask her without raising suspicion.

Slowly, as if in thought, I turned to the handmaidens, keeping my expression impassive while directing my pleading eyes at the real Queen, begging for an answer. I couldn't do anything without her approval, and I could honestly say that I had absolutely no inkling as to what her decision might be.

"Either choice presents a great risk," I murmured, looking at each handmaiden in turn, "to all of us. . ."

I let my gaze fall on Queen Amidala last to find that her brown eyes were clear and determined.

Good. She has made her choice. Now how will she let me know which is it?

"We are brave, Your Highness."

My mind went blank as her words registered with me. Utterly, totally, and completely blank. Of thought, of emotion, of reason. I was an empty shell, unable to do anything but stare in confusion, amazement, and panic at the Queen.

Oh, stars above, help me, I pleaded. Then I added, after a moment's consideration, Or send a wormhole to swallow me up and make the end really quick.

I had no idea what Queen Amidala meant. No idea at all.

We are brave, Your Highness. It could mean we were brave enough to stay, and ride out the storm, and continue resisting the negotiations as the Jedi and Senator Palpatine pleaded our case on Coruscant.

We are brave, Your Highness. It could mean that we were brave enough to go, and risk a fight through the blockade that had so effectively choked Naboo, and plead directly to the Chancellor and the Senate for aid against the blockade.

The only thing it couldn't be, actually, was both.

Then the Jedi said, very gently, "If you are to leave, Your Highness, it must be now."

When I looked up, his eyes were sincere, and his tone was clear and confident. For a moment, I could almost forget my troubles.

My mind cleared, and I remembered Queen Amidala's strong will and powerful tongue. Her sentence could go either way; but that was the whole point, I realized. She was being extra careful not to give anything away, or to seem to the Jedi as though the Queen was a puppet controlled by one handmaiden.

Once again, she had proved why she was the Queen and I was the handmaiden.

"Then I will plead our case before the Senate," I announced. I looked at Governor Bibble. "Be careful, Governor."

Then I gestured vaguely at my fellow handmaidens. We already knew exactly who was to go and who was to stay. The Queen, Rabé, and Eirtaé all stepped forward in one smooth, synchronized motion. Yané and Saché, the youngest of our entire group, moved to join the governor, and only the bright light revealed the unshed tears in their eyes as they pleaded with us to be safe.

My heart wrenched. I could offer them no such promise, and I was leaving them behind in even greater danger, possibly, as we had the Jedi and they had . . . well, no one.

Then the door opened all the way, and the two Jedi stepped out, striding quickly but casually.

I took a deep breath. Focus, Sabé, focus. The ship's not far away. You can do this. Don't look over your shoulder; you're a Queen, not a handmaiden. You have to do this. For everyone. Because if you don't bring back aid, they'll die in vain.

So I stepped after them, holding my head high and holding back the tears I yearned to shed.

Captain Panaka raised his captured blaster, gesturing at the group of men in uniform sitting morosely only a few feet away. "We need to free those pilots," he said.

He raised his blaster –

And the younger Jedi put his hand on the captain's arm.

"I'll take care of that," he said casually, before detaching from the group and vanishing behind a starship in the time of a single breath. The older Jedi didn't even spare him a single glance, and instead kept walking.

"Halt."

We stopped in front of the ramp, thanks to the dozen droids who were standing there.

I swallowed hard. My heart was racing. If the droids opened fire. . .

No. Focus. Stay in control. No emotion on your face. And especially no fear, I reminded myself.

"Where are you going?" the droid demanded.

"I'm Ambassador for the Supreme Chancellor, and I'm taking those people to Coruscant," the older Jedi said, his tone so confident that I cold almost fall for it myself.

And then I remembered that he was telling the truth.

The droid paused, clearly confused. "Uh, wait – uh, that doesn't commute – uh, you're under arrest!" it barked, raising its blaster, its finger on the trigger already, its muzzle aimed straight for the Jedi's heart –

And then the top half of it vanished and tumbled away.

The green lightsaber was in the Jedi's hand, and he lunged forward now, cutting down the droids with the ease of an experienced warrior.

The droids opened fire.

"Go!" the Jedi ordered, gesturing at the transport.

Another humming sound filled the hangar, and more shots rang out before another shout of "Go!" came from some distance away.

I threw a glance over my shoulder as we hurried up the ramp in time to see the younger Jedi running towards the ship, blue lightsaber held high, as the now-freed pilots scrambled for blasters, cover, and the ship.

"Your Highness, get to the throne room," Captain Panaka told me. "Now. And strap in."

I nodded once before we took off.

Once we were safely in the room, I collapsed in the throne, panting and closing my eyes, grateful for the bit of rest. My feet were aching, my head was throbbing, and my heart was racing. Being a decoy was so not fun. At all.

Why did I sign up for this again?

"Sabé, he said strap in!" the Queen scolded, already belted in at the side.

When the hum of the generator kicked in and the ship smoothed out, telling us that we had made the jump to hyperspace, I sat up and glared at the Queen. She, Eirtaé, and Rabé were unbuckling themselves now, and moving into the triangle formation around the throne. The Queen would be by my shoulder, so I could easily make eye contact and get decisions.

"What is it?" she asked.

I glared. "What were you thinking? 'We are brave, Your Highness.' How in the name of the galaxy does that help me?"

The Queen laughed. It was a weary laugh, but a laugh all the same, and despite my embarrassment I was glad to have drawn it out of her. She was only fourteen, my age, and yet she laughed about one-fourteenth of the time I did.

"I knew you would figure it out," was all she said.

"All right, enough complaining," Eirtaé cut in from her place by my other shoulder, her face displeased. She was the more . . . well, stickler-for-rules person out of all of us, and I supposed that was because she was of a noble line; technically, she was Lady Eirtaé.

I was just Sabé, the girl-who-looks-like-the-Queen-and-got-lucky-enough-to-become-her-decoy. If Eirtaé had brown hair, she would be the decoy, because she would be way better.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Yes, Lady Eirtaé."

Thankfully, Queen Amidala interceded before we could get started again. "Enough, you two," she said sternly. "Eirtaé, please, give Sabé a break; it's not easy, wearing the dress and play-acting. And Sabé, try to keep your face more impassive, would you? Oh, and make sure that you actually give us some orders; you'd look like an odd Queen if you didn't give your handmaidens some commands, like I do."

I would have stuck my tongue out – but then the door chimed, alerting us to the fact that people were entering.

I then endured at least half an hour of reports and detail-by-detail descriptions of what had happened. It was enough to bore me silly. I kept myself regal, still, and impassive, as Queen Amidala should, but I longed to be a handmaiden again, able to shuffle and cough and shift and not pay attention.

"An extremely well put together little droid. Without a doubt, it saved the ship, as well as our lives," Captain Panaka concluded, gesturing to the blue-and-white astromech droid.

I forced myself to smile, as the Queen should. "It is to be commended," I said. "What is its number?"

Captain Panaka leaned over the panel as the droid let out a bunch of beeps I had no hope of understanding. Finally, he scraped some dirt off the side and read: "R2-D2, Your Highness."

"Thank you, R2-D2. You have proven to be very loyal. . ."

I cast my gaze about the room, my mind already thinking about opporunities. This job was so boring. I had to find some amusement. And someone needed revenge for being very annoying and confusing.

"Padmé!"

She started, but she moved to face me.

"Clean this droid up the best you can. It deserves our gratitude," I commanded regally, flashing her a quick evil grin that I knew would seem bland and impassive to everyone else who didn't understand the inside joke.

Well, she did tell me to give her some orders or she'd stand out, I reasoned cheerfully. And if there was one thing Padmé hated, it was droid repair and mechanics.

From the snicker from Rabé, I knew that I wasn't the only one who saw the horror in the glare the Queen sent my way.

Revenge?

Check.

I turned back to Captain Panaka. "Continue, Captain."

To my surprise, the captain opened his mouth as if to answer – and then hesitated. That was not like him. And then he looked to the older Jedi – also not like him. Captain Panaka always took the Queen's security into his own hands. . . What was going on?

The older Jedi took the cue and stepped forward. "Your Highness, we are heading for a remote planet called Tatooine. It is a system far beyond the reach of the Trade Federation," he explained. "There we will be able to make needed repairs, then travel on to Coruscant."

"Your Highness, Tatooine is very dangerous," Captain Panaka protested. "It's controlled by an alliance of gangs called the Hutts." As he spoke, he sent the Jedi a glare that spoke volumes to meabout what must have gone down in the cockpit before we jumped to hyperspace. "I do not agree with the Jedi on this."

Controlled by the Hutts? Are the Jedi out of their mind?

In this one instance, I agreed with Captain Panaka over the Jedi. The Hutts were ruthless, vicious, and gangsters. If they got their hands on the Queen, we were sunk. If they got their hands on any of us, we were sunk. Especially the Jedi or the Queen.

"You must trust my judgment, Your Highness," the older Jedi said calmly.

Inwardly, I fumed.

I had hoped for a clean ride into Coruscant. Then I could ditch the heavy headgear, constricting dress, and Queen persona. Then I could be a normal handmaiden again and only have to worry about the Queen's security instead of trying to fake being the Queen. Security was rough, but it was way easier than this. And a much better prospect, because at least the handmaiden robes had were less constricting. Besides, no one watched handmaidens, and I hated the fact that everyone's eyes were on me when I was "Queen Amidala".

Now, I had to consult the Queen.

After I had just assigned her to droid clean-up duty, knowing she hated machinery and droids.

Oh, she is going to kill me.

Silently, I flashed her a quick glance while pretending to scan the room, thinking and weighing the possibilities.

Sure enough, her face was as smug as she could get without drawing any attention to herself. And for a second, she kept me panicking by giving no indication or signal as to what side she agreed with.

Just give me an answer already, Padmé!

Finally, her eyes darted once to the Jedi and her chin dipped in a slight nod.

"Captain, I understand your concerns. But we will go to Tatooine to make repairs," I announced with concealed relief.

As soon as they were out of the room, I shot the Queen a murderous glance.

She shrugged. "It serves you right."

"Oh, go clean the droid," I said, slumping in the throne.

This was not easy.

Sabé, as soon as Queen Amidala's term is up and you can leave, you are quitting the royal palace and never being a royal decoy again, I told myself firmly. Having this many panic attacks in one day cannot be good for my health. Or my mental sanity. Oh, great, now I'm talking to myself. That just says wonders about my mental sanity. . .

The End

* This was quoted directly from the Star Wars Episode I Journal: Queen Amidala written by Jude Watson.