Summary: That assassin never stood a chance.
: None
Author's Note
: Okay, I'm on a girl-power kick with Star Wars today. First I had Leia, well, go read about that in Point of No Return. Now, this.
: I don't own Star Wars.

Personally, both Padmé and Sabé were of the opinion that the whole "bounty hunter looking to cash in on Padmé's severed head on someone's desk" routine was getting really old. After all, there were well over a hundred other senators these people could go after, but as far as Padmé could tell she must have had a bulls-eye painted on her back, or something like that.

The Corellian man had broken into Padmé's apartment at nearly sunset, when the sky was painted a bright lemon yellow. He'd been smart—somewhat—about the timing, at least; he must have found out, somehow, that Senator Amidala's security captain was on medical leave and that, presently, she had but one handmaiden—Dormé had gone to serve her Majesty Queen Apailana and Padmé was requesting replacements.

Of course, his intelligence waned at an alarming rate after that.

In short, instead of outright killing Padmé, he instead got the bright idea of taking her hostage for an astronomical sum, and killing her afterwards.

That's where Padmé's patience evaporated.

While she confronted her intended kidnapper, Sabé hovered in the shadows, prowling closer, and closer, and closer, dark eyes horribly keen and deep blue velvet folds rustling so quietly that the Corellian never heard.

Padmé knew that all she had to do now was distract him, and her words became more heated, more passionate as she restrained the strong urge to smile predatorily.

Finally, the Corellian man's expression turned from acquisitive belligerence to horror as Sabé, quiet as a wraith straight from one of the green mounds of Naboo got directly behind him, and put her blaster to his head.


Sabé looked to her mistress for guidance, and Padmé nodded.

The rest was history.

A few minutes later, Padmé stared down at the body and sighed. She had called the authorities and the man had ceased to bleed out all over her priceless rug, but she was still going to have to have the rug removed, and the carpeting torn up and replaced to get rid of the stain and the smell.

You'd think he would have had the decency not to bleed so much.

Sabé leaned against the window, arms folded, surveying her work with a detached eye—a trained killer was she, the best Padmé had ever known.

The Senator smiled at her handmaiden. While they had their differences and those differences could get explosive, it all seemed to melt away in this moment. "Who needs a Jedi when you've got a handmaiden and senior mistress of the Order of Sanctuary with a blaster?" she quipped.

Sabé didn't smile—she hardly ever smiled—but she quirked an eyebrow in such a fashion as to suggest that she was not unamused. What she said next, deadpan, summed up the mood of the room entirely.

"My Lady, many problems can be solved with a lightsaber. However, still more can be solved with a blaster."

If Padmé seems a bit jaded and a little too calm, I can't help but think it would be because she's been a target for assassination and/or kidnap so many times that she would just go "Eh, this doesn't even faze me anymore." Especially not when Sabé's around.

And as for the Order of Sanctuary, it's listed in Wookieepedia. According to the wikia it's a secretive society of Nabooan warrior women. I happen to like the idea.