Chapter Text
The sun was rising on the ecumenopolis of Coruscant, and Padmé blinked as the light reflected on the datapad. She raised her head and let her gaze wander for a while over the metropolitan landscape, stretching her neck as she stared at the pinkish clouds above the legion of skyscrapers.
It had been years since her first visit here, and the bewildered admiration she had felt then had soon disappeared. Coruscant was too big, the streets too crowded, the air too dry. The horizon was striped with towering buildings and purification spires which cleared the atmosphere of the inevitable pollution, but gave it a weird, chemical scent. She had never got accustomed to it.
Yes, the times when she had been an impressionable young woman who looked up to the capital with reverence were far behind her. In every way.
They had spent another night working their minds off on the new proposal, and even with the copious amounts of caf she had ingested, she was starting to feel dizzy.
She had finished re-reading the revised bill a couple of minutes ago, but she stared at it once again and checked the last paragraphs. The text was beginning to get this strange, almost nonsensical aspect that things got when you looked at them for too long, yet she couldn’t yet detach her eyes from it. All this work, all this pressure, all those days and nights spent discussing every single comma with her fellow Senators, everything was coming down to this.
She let out a deep sigh of relief, and rubbed her temples.
“I think we’re good”, Bail Organa commented from his side of the table.
A mutter of unanimous agreement went across the room, and Padmé felt a smile blossom on her lips.
“Finally”, Rhia groaned under her breath.
Padmé pretended not to notice the Rodian Senator’s grumpiness. She had tremendous respect for all the people sitting at the table - most of them she regarded as close friends, and the others she just hadn’t known for long enough to call so yet. The feeling was mutual, she knew, but the last weeks had been draining nonetheless.
Spending ten to twenty hours a day with the same twelve people would have turned anyone irritable and cranky, especially with stakes this high. Writing a bill was never an easy thing, but economic matters were so touchy that any misphrasing would be instantly used to nip it in the bud. Things had to be nothing short of perfect.
The night had been dedicated to the final revisions, and after countless debates and reconsiderations, they had come to an agreement.
“I will send it to the Vice Chair to add it on the agenda for the next Global”, Jal’un said in a tired voice.
The Twi’lek representative was a fierce young woman, but even she sounded tired. She smiled nonetheless, and rubbed her puffy eyes.
Rhia said something between her teeth, but it was fortunately low enough to be completely inaudible.
Padmé felt a surge of annoyance come over her, which she quickly repressed. Rhia and Jal’un had been among the most difficult people to conciliate over this job. Both of them were volcanic women, passionate and outspoken, but while Jal’un showed a perpetual inspired idealism, Rhia’s ways were mostly cynicism and sarcasm. Their debates had been painfully intense, and although Padmé loved them both very much, she really needed a break from these two’s continuous bickering.
“Shall we celebrate?” Bail offered, in a half-hesitant voice.
There was a moment of silence, broken by Jal’un.
“Honestly, love, as much as I appreciate each and every one of you, I think we all need a bit of personal time.”
Chuckles came in reaction, and the others nodded in approval. As if responding to an invisible signal, everyone got up and started to head outside.
Padmé wondered if she ought to say something, to congratulate everyone for their work, but right now it felt awkward and forced. Jal’un was terribly right, and it seemed like the best thing to do was just to take a breather. They would have plenty of time to celebrate if the bill was approved.
“So, we have a bit of time before tomorrow’s session. What are your plans, people?” Aang asked as they made for the speeder platform.
Jal’un shrugged, and tilted her head to massage her lekku.
“I’m too high on caf to sleep. I think I’m gonna get hammered on Corellian Whisky while watching holocartoons on my couch. You?”
“I might go for a run on the flat levels, actually. I haven’t exercised in a while and I’m starting to feel it. My lungs are tired and my joints are getting rusty.”
Rhia chuckled and ran a hand along her green antennae.
“Careful my dear, that’s starting to sound like Grievous.”
“What about you, Rhia?” Bail asked as they stepped outside.
The morning air was fresh and invigorating, and despite the acidic smell, Padmé inhaled it deeply.
“I haven’t seen my wife in far too long”, the Rodian said. “She’s threatened to divorce me if I miss another lunch date, so I guess I’ll just spend the day at her entire disposal. Same for you, I suppose?”
“Same for me”, Bail confirmed. “Breha didn’t talk about divorce, but she did say, and I quote, that she was very disappointed of how seldom we got to see each other lately”.
“Ouch, that’s even rougher. Wives are the worst.”
Padmé laughed.
“Rhia, you’re someone’s wife.”
“Well, I’m the worst too. Alright everyone, see you tomorrow!”
There was a minute of disordered goodbyes and waving as everyone went to their own speeders, and Padmé took a few seconds to appreciate the wave of relaxation that came over her. It was far from being over, but they had overcome a difficult phase, and knowing she could trust these people to fight alongside her was comforting.
She turned to Bail as he climbed in his own speeder, next to hers.
“Fly by the Nebula Market before you head home”, she suggested. “If I know anything about Breha, silver-flowers ought to do the trick.”
The senator smiled widely.
“I might. I had something a bit… spicier in mind, but extra flowers can’t hurt. How about you, Padmé?”
“I think I’m going to take a sixteen-hour nap. I can’t feel my face anymore.”
Bail laughed.
“I’m pretty sure that above seven hours, you technically cannot call it a nap.”
“Then what do you call it?”
“A good night of sleep?” Bail suggested.
Padmé crossed her arms and gave him her best pouty face.
“I’ll take a sixteen-hour nap if I damn please so.”
“Ah, senator Amidala. Always the rebel, aren’t you?”
She winked as the man laughed, and kissed him on the cheek before crashing in her own speeder. Exhaustion was overwhelming her, and for once she activated the autopilot. She enjoyed flying, but she wasn’t taking any risks with the capital’s horrifying traffic.
Her eyelids felt extremely heavy, but she still touched a few commands on the dashboard to comm Anakin. She hadn’t seen him in a while, nor talked to him in the last days – she just hadn’t found the time, and she knew he didn’t handle distance well.
The holocomm crackled for a few seconds, and her husband’s face appeared in front of her.
“Master Jedi”, she said. “Is this a good time?”
Anakin gave her a warm smile.
“I’m alone in my chambers, my love. We can talk freely. How are you?”
“Exhausted”, she sighed. “I spent the whole night with the other senators on the last details, but it’s over at last. Now we just have to introduce it, lobby enough people into our side to bring it around, follow up on its implementation… You know what, scratch what I just said. This is so not over.”
“You’ll make an amazing job of it”, Anakin said. “You always do.”
“How about you, Ani? You were on Ryloth the last time we spoke. Are you alright?”
The Jedi shrugged.
“We have secured our positions, but it’s far from over too. I’m fine, but I wish I was near you right now. Honestly, I feel like the Separatists’ biggest crime is to keep me away from my beautiful wife. You look better than ever.”
Padmé burst out laughing.
“Oh, honey. It’s a good thing I’m the one into politics, you are a terrible liar. Or maybe your comm is busted?”
Her husband blushed, looking flustered.
“It’s not, I mean it. Well, I mean… You’re always beautiful. I just miss you.”
Padmé shook her head while a soft smile played across her lips. Ani might have grown into a powerful Jedi leader, but when he was with her, he often turned back into the impressionable kid who stuttered on clumsy love declarations. It was cute, and she liked teasing him into it every now and then.
“I miss you too.”
She couldn’t repress a huge yawn, and Anakin’s face went back to tender concern.
“Go to sleep. We will see each other soon.”
“Can’t wait”, she muttered with her eyes half-closed. “I’ve got very nice plans for our next meeting, my dear general.”
“I’ll take your word for that, Senator.”
She opened an eye and grinned mischievously.
“Do try not to tire yourself out entirely on the Separatists. I might get jealous.”
Anakin laughed.
“General Grievous has got nothing on you, my love. Now rest.”
She grumbled as the holocomm faded out, and fell into a half-conscious sleep. She snapped out of it when the speeder loudly landed on her apartment’s platform, and she dragged herself to bed, bumping into most of the furniture on her way there.
She crashed on the voluptuous mattress, and was asleep before her head even touched the pillow.
In the end, it was only a ten-hour nap; Padmé woke up in the middle of the afternoon with a strange uneasiness in her stomach, like a tingling knot of anxiety.
She laid still for a few minutes, contemplating the ceiling as she tried to decipher what she felt. As she closed her eyes, it came back to her. She had dreamt that she was being chased across the Senate, and while some details seemed a bit silly now that she had woken up (she was pretty sure that you couldn’t turn Joggan fruits into handgrenades just by licking them), the powerful sense of helplessness remained.
She had been hunted and attacked before, and although she made a point of keeping up the fight, the memories were still vivid. Starfighters shooting at her cruiser while it fled across space, a snarling beast clawing through her flesh, and above all the nauseating sight of loved ones lying on the ground as life departed them.
It was only a matter of time before the nightmare started again. The Economic Fairness Bill was as necessary as it would be controversial, and although many senators were involved, she was clearly the flagbearer of the project.
The idea was quite simple, really; it aimed to allow systems to stop trading with institutions of dubious morality if they decided so. It shouldn’t even have existed, but the Republic’s current situation had made it necessary. Chancellor Palpatine was obsessed with the war, and he had signed numerous deals with questionable organisms in order to sustain the troops. Although disputable, this was somewhat understandable, as the quest for new allies might change the tide of the war.
The real problem was that as part of these deals, Palpatine usually promised trade exclusivity with the Republican systems, no matter what the local governments might have wanted. As Rhia had put it, it wasn’t normal for a planet to have to buy their flour from a slaver guild just because the assholes in question were lending weapons somewhere in the galaxy.
Uniting behind common values was one thing, but denying systems their basic rights for decision was another, and a lot of people were starting to tire of Palpatine’s methods. Despite her long friendship with her former protector, Padmé was one of them.
Palpatine and the slaver guilds would not be the only ones angered by the bill, though. The Separatists would be directly impacted, as one could easily argue that buying from a Separatist corporation was against their personal values. The Trade Federation would lose billions without any hope for compensation, and Padmé had no doubt that Gunray would try anything to prevent the law from passing.
Another memory stirred, as she recalled cold red eyes, a raspy mechanized voice and the feeling of rough, gnarled fingers grasping her chin.
She groaned and buried her face in her pillow.
Cad Bane had been working a number of jobs for the Separatists, and she couldn’t imagine an infuriated Nute Gunray calling anyone else than the best to take care of her case. The mere idea of the ruthless Duros on her track sent shivers down her spine.
He had already infiltrated the Senate, and escaped the Jedi a couple of times, so even the presence of Anakin would not completely appease her – a presence on which she could not count anyway, not today, not while so many lives depended on her husband’s actions on the battlefield.
She would have to handle this on her own. For a second, she thought of requesting extra security from the Senate Watch, but the memory of Naboo guards slashed as they were trying to shield her flashed before her eyes.
She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone putting their life at risk to protect hers. Not anymore.
Desperate, she turned around and punched her pillow. She needed a bit more sleep. Maybe things would be clearer on the morrow. Maybe she would find the secret recipe for galactic peace in her dreams and everyone would just fucking decide not to act like selfish pricks anymore.
Padmé closed her eyes angrily, and wriggled around a bit as she tried to relax, in vain.
The idea came as suddenly as the memory had, and it struck her like thunder.
She sat up slowly in her bed, her heart pounding. It could not be that simple, could it…?
Getting up on shaky legs, she paced her bedroom while thoughts ran at full speed inside her head. Maybe it could, actually. Maybe it wasn’t as absolutely insane as it sounded. Or maybe she had finally lost her last marbles with the combined effect of stress, Twi’lek caf and sleep deprivation.
The splash of cold water on her face didn’t help. She needed air.
At the back of her wardrobe, between the numerous ceremonial dresses, was a durasteel box full of civilian outfits. Duty often required her to travel anonymously, but she also resorted to these in more frequent circumstances; she hated having bodyguards around when she meandered through the city, and plain clothing usually was the best of protections. She liked going around unnoticed, pretending to lead a normal life for a couple of hours every now and then.
She picked a green tunic and pilot pants, then sat on the floor as she applied traditional Talese make-up to her face: a purple wavy line on her forehead and series of black dots across her cheeks. An affectionate smile came to her lips as she stroke the make-up box; she had received it from the Talese princess herself, back when they had been two sixteen-year old girls eager to dress up and go on secret adventures. They had traded their clothes for a night, and gotten very drunk on the roofs of Talea while complaining about regal duties.
Thinking about her old friend comforted her, and she walked outside with a new determination.
A crowded shuttle brought her to the Suspended Gardens, on the outer fringe of the Center. She smiled widely as she treaded on the soft grass, and span around while breathing in deeply. The air smelled better here, with an earthy scent that came from the multiple trees – real trees, palpable and sturdy, not like the preposterous holovegetation that decorated the Senate Halls.
It was one of the few places that she genuinely loved on Coruscant.
She bought a tall glass of Goran Tea from a handsome Devaronian merchant, and sat barefoot under the foliage as she sipped the icy drink.
Her heartbeat began to slow down, and she closed her eyes. Here, she could think again; the proximity of nature had always helped her to focus, as far as she could remember.
Bane was a bounty hunter, and bounty hunters had no concept of loyalty. This meant that although he had worked for crime lords and Separatists alike, she – theoretically – only needed to overbid them in order to buy her tranquility. As far as she was concerned, she was willing to pay any price to pull the rug from under Gunray’s feet.
Maybe it was a folly. But somehow it seemed worth a shot. If Bane laughed in her face, well, she would know what to expect.
There remained the small matter of getting in touch with the cold-blooded assassin.
None of her contacts were close to the underworld, apart from Rihan Val who had once unwittingly dated a serial killer, and of course Gunray himself. She snorted as she imagined the Nemoidian’s face if she called him to ask for Cad Bane’s comm number.
Her fingers tapped on her thigh as she pondered. There was a Guild of Bounty Hunters, wasn’t there? She doubted Bane was affiliated to it, but maybe someone there had a connection with him. She would try to reach them once she got home.
Having a plan relieved her, like always, and Padmé enjoyed the rest of her drink with quiet satisfaction.
She walked around the Gardens for almost an hour before heading home; the sun was already setting, and she felt the usual confusion that flowed through her brain when time lag messed up its chemistry. The life she led was physically draining, she knew, but she didn’t have time to think about that.
An hour-long bath helped to relieve her of muscular tensions, and she snuggled herself in a silk dressing gown before searching the Bounty Hunters Guild on the holonet.
To her utter surprise, she discovered a very neat, professional-looking page which thoroughly explained the Guild’s missions and guarantees; this was far from the sleazy half-criminal universe she had imagined, but it made sense. Most of their employers were people with big money to spend, and rich people liked to be reassured about their interlocutors’ trustworthiness, at least on the surface.
She found a contact number, and bit her lip before grabbing her holocomm. An enquiry call couldn’t hurt, after all.
It only took a couple of seconds before a very pretty Twi’lek with pink skin and a white flower tattooed on her cheek appeared before her.
“Hi”, she said in a warm voice. “You have reached the reception of the Guild of Bounty Hunters, Mercenaries and Affiliate Professionals. My name is Moïra, how can I help you today?”
“Hello”, Padmé said hesitantly. “I, um… I am Senator Padmé Amidala from Naboo, and I’m trying to reach a bounty hunter named Cad Bane. Is he one of your members, per chance…?”
“He is”, the Twi’lek confirmed to Padmé’s surprise. “I cannot give you his personal details for confidentiality reasons, but I can file a mission request for him if you wish.”
“You can do that?” Padmé blurted out.
She had not expected things to work this way, and she was a bit unsettled by Moïra’s soothingly professional tone. It could have belonged to a medical secretary, or a fancy restaurant waitress; it sounded a bit weird in the mouth of someone who worked for thieves and assassins.
The receptionist looked as though she had perceived Padmé’s awkwardness, and she gave her an amused smile.
“I can do that. It’s your first time working with us, isn’t it?”
Padmé nodded with an embarrassed look.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in. Basically, the Guild works as an intermediary of trust between clients and professionals – we make sure that they get paid and that you are satisfied. I have to tell you, we usually advise to open mission requests for all members, as having competition brings the prices down and the pressure up, and it guarantees a certain quality of work. But considering who you are and who you are asking for, I don’t think it should be an issue.”
The Senator tried to keep up as Moïra continued.
“If you are certain that you want him and no one else, I can issue a private mission request. He’ll be the only one to see it, and he’ll decide whether he wants to take it or not. If he accepts, he’ll contact you himself; otherwise I will go back to you. Does that suit you?”
“That’s perfect.”
“May I have your permission to verify your identity? I would also need a few details concerning the nature of the job you want him on.”
“Um, sure. As for the job… It’s a bit complicated.”
She bit her nails as she tried to find a formulation that wouldn’t compromise her safety. The bill was not even out yet, and if the word got out that she was trying to bribe a bounty hunter off her track, it was bound to alert her adversaries.
“Your identity has been successfully verified. Look, it’s not very customary, but you can keep the job confidential if you prefer. I just can’t guarantee that Mister Bane will be curious enough to look into it without any details… although if I know anything about the man, your name as a commissioner might be enough for a call back.”
“I’ll try that, please”, Padmé said with relief.
She settled a few administrative details with the girl, who was definitely very kind for an underworld hostess, and listened as she advised her on price negotiation and customary processes.
“And that concludes it. I’ll come back to you within three days if he declines your offer, otherwise I wish you luck.”
“Thank you so much. You’ve been very, very helpful.”
Moïra smiled.
“Please, tell that to my manager if he enquires. Have a very pleasant evening, milady.”
Padmé sat back into her chair as the comm turned off, and a nervous laugh came to her lips. It was done. She had officially sent Cad Bane a job offer. Shaking her head, she made for her terrace. Deep down, she knew that it was completely ridiculous, that the bounty hunter was about to have a serious gale of laughter, and she chuckled as she imagined her friends’ reaction when she would tell them. Bail would send her to the medical bay to have her head checked, that was for sure.
She ate a light dinner and watched the news on holovision before heading back to bed.
No sooner had she slipped between the sheets than her comm started to buzz.
It was probably Moïra telling her that the bounty hunter had refused already. Or, Force help her, Gunray calling her to warn her off his precious assassin, if Bane had tattled to his contacts.
She picked up the comm with jaded disillusion, and her heart skipped a beat when the silhouette of the slender Duros materialized in the air.
“Senator Amidala”, Bane said as he tilted the brim of his hat.
“Cad Bane”, she replied astounded.
She had not expected that. Yes, she had done everything for it to happen, but stars knew she had not really been expecting it to work. A string of internal curses went through her mind as she suddenly felt acutely aware of her appearance - the simple tank top she wore to bed when Anakin wasn’t around, no make-up and her hair still damp from the shower. Had she known the ruthless hunter was to get in touch, she would have managed to look a bit more intimidating.
“Is this a bad time?” the bounty hunter asked. “You seem surprised.”
She retrieved her composure in a fraction of second.
“I just didn’t expect you to answer so quickly.”
The mercenary chuckled.
“I’m always quick when it comes to business, lady. Now, may I know what owes me the pleasure?”
Padmé rubbed the back of her neck hesitantly. There was no going back now.
“This is a bit… delicate.”
“Delicate matters are my specialty.”
The senator burst out laughing.
“Yeah, I had the occasion of experiencing your delicacy first-hand. Perhaps you remember?”
An amused smile went across Bane’s thin lips.
“I didn’t realize I had made such a strong impression on you.”
“Well, you did. Alright. I am about to bring a bill forward in the Senate, which I expect to be… unpopular among some people.”
The bounty hunter gave her an astute look, and he nodded.
“What do you need?”
His voice was soft, and as professional-sounding as Moïra’s had been, but Padmé found it all the more terrifying.
“I need you to leave me be. Don’t take any contract on my head. I will pay you well.”
Bane looked surprised, and he uncrossed his legs as he leaned forward.
“Just makin’ sure I understand. You wanna pay me to not kill you?”
“Yes. An outrageous amount of credits. I’ll tell you what – why don’t you go on vacation somewhere remote? Like very, very remote. Have fun, relax, and collect seashells or STDs or whatever you do in your free time. My treat.”
“I’m flattered, my dear”, he said with a smirk, “but I can’t do that.”
“What?!” Padmé exclaimed. “But… why?”
Dismay filled her as the bounty hunter chuckled.
“Takin’ money from people for not killing them is dangerously close to extortion, and the Guild doesn’t like that.”
“And you care about what people like or not?” Padmé asked incredulously.
“I care about their damn fines. I’m not paying that. Sorry, lady.”
“Wait! How about… Let me think for a second.”
She was on the verge of panic now, and she wrung her hands as she intensely reflected.
“How about I hire you for a job? Like… I don’t know. Anything, really. Then you’ll be too busy to accept anyone’s offer on me, won’t you?”
She heard herself the clear despair in her plea, and anytime else it would have made her cringe, but right now she was past the point of caring.
“I might”, Bane replied calmly. “Provided the contract on you isn’t higher.”
“Wh… That’s fucking unfair!” she uttered. “I asked you first, shouldn’t there be some sort of rule about that?”
“It’s called freedom of choice, my dear. All hunters may choose to take on or off any job they decide… unless there is a conflict of interest, of course.”
Padmé knew an opening when she was given one, and although she hated the hunter for toying with her like that, she wouldn’t let it pass.
“Conflict of interest”, she repeated innocently. “Like what, for example?”
Cad Bane smiled slyly, and examined his nails.
“For example, should they be already hired for the exact opposite job. In your case, that would be ensuring your protection.”
Padmé couldn’t repress a burst of laughter.
“Protection? Please, tell me you’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking, Senator?”
“I don’t need your protection! The only person I need protection from is you! Can’t you just…”
A violent headache began pulsing between her temples, and she threw her hands up in despair.
“Are you seriously telling me that the only way you won’t take an assassination contract on me is if I hire you as my… bodyguard?”
“Yes.”
“Do you take me for a fool?” Padmé snapped. “What would prevent you from taking that job from me and using the opportunity to…”
“…murder you in your sleep? You’re a suspicious one, Senator.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by implying that the cold-blooded assassin you are might not be a reliable fellow?”
Bane snickered, and there was a short silence before he spoke again.
“Do you know what the most important thing in my world is, lady Amidala?”
Padmé pondered for about half a second.
“Money?”
“Close, but no. Money is merely a result. What really matters, and as a politician I think you ought to understand, is your reputation.”
She felt sudden enlightenment, and slowly nodded.
“Because nobody would hire a guy who’s known for killing his employers if you pay him enough... Alright, I get it. You’re not just the best because of your capacities. You’re the best because the market says so.”
Bane bowed his head with an appreciative smile.
“I knew you’d understand. And I believe you see my point now.”
“Fine”, she said after a deep sigh. “Call it what you want, I don’t care. I’ll sign the paperwork, as long as it makes you disappear.”
“I fear you misunderstood me, lady Amidala”, Bane slowly said. “If you pay me to do a job, I will do the job. We are not playing pretend.”
“What does it matter? I’ll officially hire you for protection. You turn down any other offer, and go on that vacation trip. That’s a win-win, isn’t it?”
“And if something happens to you?”
Padmé didn’t even bother repressing the incredulous smile that came to her lips.
“You’re funnier than I thought. Please don’t tell me you actually give a crap about me staying alive. I’ve heard shameless things in my life, but this would overpass even Gunray.”
“And doesn’t that speak volumes. No, I don’t care about you personally – no offense. But should you get killed while I’m busy picking up seashells, no one would take me seriously anymore, and my rates would plummet.”
She stared at the hunter in disbelief for a moment, but Bane only shrugged.
“Of course. It would be a terrible thing if my death brought such a catastrophic financial crash to the bounty hunting stock market. Why, I might actually re-die of shame.”
The man snorted as she continued.
“Look, I see your point, but I would like you to see mine. I really, really don’t want you around. No offense.”
“None taken”, Cad Bane said. “You’re a fancy lady, and you don’t want a blot on your landscape. Well, don’t worry. I’m sure your funeral will be full of pretty folks.”
Looks like I hit a nerve, she thought. Susceptible on top of all the rest, are we?
She held up her hands in defense.
“I’m not talking fashion. You’ve got style, in your own way. But I already have security services, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by making them feel… inadequate.”
It was true, although she had just improvised the excuse. The thought of having Cad Bane around her irked her to the point of nausea, but imagining Anakin’s reaction if he found out was even more painful. He wouldn’t understand that she would put their duties before her own safety, nor that she didn’t want him as a bodyguard. She wasn’t against a bit of roleplaying, but Ani’s tendencies to over-protectiveness were irritating enough as they were. He meant well, she knew, but he really didn’t need encouragement on this.
“That worthless bunch of amateurs? It could do them good to work with a real professional.”
“They do their best, and most of the time it’s more than enough. You’re a special case. And it’s important to me.”
Bane remained silent for a minute before rubbing his forehead, and she felt a petty satisfaction at the idea that he got the same headache she did. It was only fair.
“I’ll tell you what”, he said. “I’ll give you one week of the shadow treatment – you won’t see me, you won’t hear me, you won’t even know I’m here. Then we’ll see how that fits you.”
“That will fit me perfectly!”
The relief in her exclamation was as obvious as her dismay had been before; she found it unsettling. She wasn’t used to showing her emotions so plainly (anger and sarcasm didn't count), not with people she didn’t trust, not when it gave them an upper hand in the conversation.
“Good”, Bane said. “Then there’s just the matter of my fees.”
He said a figure, so ridiculously high that Padmé almost laughed in his face, but this time she reined herself. Her salary was three times what the bounty hunter asked, and Naboo paid for most of her expenses, including food, accommodation and the entirety of her wardrobe. Most of the time, she spent her income on charities and foundations, and left a remainder pile up for the day she would retire. She could afford him. And more importantly, she needed him to know that.
“Deal.”
Bane’s eyes widened for a split second, and although he almost instantly returned to his cool and composed demeanor, Padmé knew she had made an impact.
“You’re on the 107th floor of the Nautolia Tower, in the Core Center of Coruscant, right?”
“Yes. Wait a minute, how do you…”
“Like I said”, Bane cut her sharply. “Your security’s a joke, lady. Honestly, I’m surprised you made it so far with the enemies you have.”
“I always wear a blaster”, she retorted.
And I sleep with a Jedi as often as our schedules allow us to. That helps, too.
“That’s a good thing. I’ll be here in three hours. Do me a favor, try not to get yourself killed by then.”
“I was heading to bed, actually. So unless the Sheet Monster strangles me in my sleep…”
Bane grunted.
“Very funny. Well, pleasure doing business with you, ma’am. I’ll send you my bank details tomorrow.”
The holocomm faded off, and Padmé grinned like an idiot as she jumped back on her bed. She had done it. She had taken the worst threat that loomed over her and turned it into an ally. The Trade Federation and the slaver guilds were welcome to try anything now that she had Cad Bane – Cad Bane! – working for her. She would bring goddamn peace and fairness to the galaxy, and nobody would stand in her way anymore.
She giggled like a schoolgirl and hugged her pillow.
This was going to be a quiet year after all.