“There’s too much to be done,” Padmé says, and looks back to meet the holo’s flickering gaze. “Our base on Ithor was compromised, and I can't take the time to vet a bodyguard—” “Then it’s a good thing,” Obi-Wan says with careful cheer, “that I found one for you.”

“Are you really sure this is necessary?” Jon asks, faintly hunted.

Jango's eyes flicker up, down, up again, and it’s meant to be dismissive, but Shaak knows wariness when she sees it, and it makes her smile just a little. “Lady, I just tried to put a slug through that fancy headdress of yours.” With a chuckle, Shaak takes a step closer. “Fett, I've been a Jedi for decades. If I held a grudge against everyone who had tried to kill me, I would have more enemies than you.”

Padmé hears the sharp, ragged gasp, and she’s already turning when Fives jerks up off the bed, on his feet in an instant. A fist lashes out, almost too quick to see, but Padmé catches it, twists, pulls, and when Fives staggers, he falls right into her with a cry. “Easy,” Padmé says, and catches him, holds him up as he gets his bearings. “You’re all right, I swear. You’re safe, Fives.”