The Moons of Iego: The Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker Website

FAN FICTION : ATTACK OF THE CLONES ERA

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Children of Circumstance
(chapters 9-16)

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Chapter 9. Siege

Padmé was silent as she walked toward her stateroom with her ever-present protector by her side, turning the situation in which they found themselves over and over in her mind. It was not a peaceful silence.

"What is it?" Anakin asked, sensing her feelings without being able to attribute them.

Padmé didn't answer. They reached the stateroom, Anakin ushered her inside and made sure the door was secure. He checked both rooms to make certain they were alone.

"Have I done something wrong?" He asked. Her silence was unnerving.

"You are... remarkable, Anakin," she said shortly when she finally did speak. "You constantly surprise me."

"Sometimes I surprise myself," he admitted.

Padmé yanked off her veil and flung it onto the nearest chair. Anakin was taken aback by the intensity of emotion that radiated from her.

"Is it the D'laians?" He couldn't remember having seen her like this.

Padmé stood in the center of the stateroom with her arms crossed as though she were holding herself together. He was sure that whatever was wrong was his fault.

"What's wrong?" He persisted. "Tell me."

"I'm angry at myself," Padmé finally said. "I feel like a fool."

"You are anything but a fool," he said, needing to protect her even from herself. "It is a difficult situation."

Padmé took a deep breath. "It's not just the D'laians," she said. "It's everything." She was holding on to herself tightly. Anakin took a step toward her but hesitated, uncertain.

"I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. "If I have done something to upset you ... something I shouldn't..."

"Oh, Anakin," Padmé said, her voice shaking slightly. "I'm here in the middle of a political crisis. My ship, my people and now possibly my planet are in danger. I have to face the fact that I have shown very poor judgment." She looked at him, taking in the hesitant, guilty look on his face and finished heatedly, "I cannot afford to be distracted."

"I distract you?" Anakin asked, completely crushed. "I thought I was helping."

"You're not helping!" she burst out. "We have been betrayed and are about to be attacked and yet all I can think about is you!" She glared at him as if anger could keep her from going under. "What are you doing in my thoughts, anyway?"

Anakin suddenly found himself very confused. "You're angry because ... because" - he went on tentatively because he could barely believe what he was hearing - "...you love me?"

"To distraction," she said furiously. "I can't think when you're standing right next to me."

Anakin was out of his depth. Nothing in his upbringing among the sedate and mindful Jedi had prepared him to deal with outbursts of contradictory logic -unless they were his own, which were never tolerated. All his pride would allow him to hear was that he had disappointed her in some way.

"Do you not want me near you?" he asked uneasily.

Padmé buried her face in her hands. She had a horrible feeling she was about to cry. Or laugh. She didn't know which.

"Anakin." She tried again. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be all the things I was before and to be in love with you at the same time."

This can't be happening, he thought as dark tendrils of doubt crept into the center of his being. It felt like an abyss was opening in front of him.

The moment she saw his face Padmé regretted her words. She felt him withdraw from her and it hurt like a physical ache.

"Anakin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that..."

She stopped at the look on his face.

"I'm sorry that it's so difficult to love me," he said stiffly, backing away.

"Don't, Anakin." Padmé wished she could take back everything she had said since leaving the meeting. He ought to just take me in his arms and tell me everything is going to be all right, she thought.

But this was Anakin. He defied all known articles of faith.

"Loving you is the easiest thing in the world, Padmé," he said, not looking directly at her. He seemed very far away. "I don't have to think about it. It's not a struggle. It's like waking up every morning and knowing that I'm breathing. And knowing that I have been breathing all of my life and that I will until the day I die."

"You make it sound so simple," she said wistfully. He loves like a child, she thought. Freely. Purely. Unconditionally. She wondered whether she could do the same.

Anakin looked down and unseeingly traced the back of a nearby chair with his fingers.

"You know," he said, "everyone in my life seems to be afraid of me." He stopped and looked straight into her eyes. "I didn't know that you were, too."

The sudden darkness in his eyes was not remotely childlike. In her whole life Padmé had never met anyone like him. He was like a series of interlocking puzzles - as soon as you solved one another appeared. Everywhere he went he brought change. New paths opened while old ones closed.

He was right, in a way. She was afraid - but not of him. She was afraid of taking a new path.

Anakin, she called out silently.

There was no answer.

In disbelief she watched him turn and walk out the door, closing it behind him.

The pain she felt was physical.

* * * * *

When Anakin moved, he moved fast. When he was angry, so did everything else. Jumping out of the way to avoid a hatch that slammed shut of its own accord in the young Jedi's wake, Captain Typho wondered whether working with a Jedi who was in full operations mode was always like this. Things seemed to be banging and flying around everywhere.

Still, he thought. Under the circumstances it was pretty useful to have him on board. The boy had showed up at the last minute with a face like a Malastarian funeral mask, but with his efficient help the Nubians had prepared for hostilities in record time and with a satisfying level of secrecy.

To outward appearances the ship still seemed more or less the same in terms of the distribution and activities of the Nubians aboard. But weapons had been distributed and hidden around the ship, maintenance ducts mined with sensors and all the Nubians aboard knew more or less what to expect.

The Queen's staterooms had been secured with guards posted inside the door and above each room in the ducts.

It was a typical, civilized, peace-loving Nubian plan: sit tight and wait for help. They just needed to hold out until the promised Republican fighting force arrived.

Anakin thought Typho's approach was disastrous, and said so. Knowing what he did about the D'laians he was certain that a more aggressive, pre-emptive response was required. He would have liked to see all the D'laians on board disarmed and captive before either one of the fleets arrived.

Typho had refused. He wasn't willing to take the necessary risks with so many civilians on board.

If Obi-Wan were here they would do everything his way, Anakin thought resentfully. But he kept quiet after that and resigned himself to a role as babysitter. He resolved not to speak up again.

Typho was very surprised when Anakin did not argue about his post assignment. The Senator really must have really given it to him, he thought. He'll think twice before overstepping his boundaries again.

The Jedi's last task in the little time remaining before the crucial meeting resumed was to escort Vespé and Balé to the Queen's staterooms. Typho had determined that they would be safest there.

Balé threw herself at him the moment she saw him.

He could feel her anxiety. Poor little one, he thought, this is not the first time she has been through something like this. He squatted down on the floor in front of her so that they could see eye to eye.

"Don't worry," he said. "Nothing bad will happen. Not this time."

"Will you stay with us?" She said, holding him around the neck. He could feel her unquestioning trust flow between them. It touched a deep, deep hunger in Anakin and made it very difficult to maintain the layers of icy shielding he had wrapped himself in since leaving Padmé. He thought if he stayed with her any longer he would crack.

"I can't," he said, gently disengaging himself from her and standing up, "but I will be nearby. Don't worry."

He brought the girls to the stateroom, handed them over to Dormé and left for his assigned post without a backward glance.

* * * * *

Captain Typho stood in front of the door to the large conference room and checked his timepiece. On cue a veiled figure appeared in the corridor, accompanied by her ever-present Jedi alter ego. Typho nodded and disappeared into the maintenance duct just before the D'laian delegation arrived from the other direction.

Nothing made a D'laian warrior happier than conquest. For the members of the delegation on the Nubian Yacht the promise of victory was almost enough to make up for the endless, tedious hours of negotiations they had to endure for the past weeks. Now it was just a matter of settling the score.

Anakin could feel their pleasure like warm waves. He took note of the fact that neither Wolan nor his posse had joined their delegation in the room. A quick head count came to five D'laians and five on the Nubian side, including him. And of course Typho, hidden above.

Anakin expected the D'laians to be armed. Their elaborate clothing would certainly provide some convenient hiding places for weapons.

This is a bad plan, he thought.

The D'laian Foreign Minister opened the meeting.

"We have consulted with our leaders. The sovereign government of D'lai cannot accept your proposal."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss," the Nubian delegation leader responded firmly. I declare these negotiations to be officially ended."

"That may be, Minister," his D'laian counterpart said with open delight, "but it is our duty to inform you that this is not the end of our association." He surveyed the room with what on D'lai must have passed for a beneficent gaze. To the Nubians it looked predatory. "I am afraid that our position has changed. It is our view that an association with Naboo is in our planet's interests. However, that association must and will be of our own devising."

He rose. All the members of his delegation rose with him.

"Your ship is being boarded as we speak, and our fleet has arrived. I am afraid you are all now our prisoners until we arrive on Naboo."

The veiled figure stood up.

"I think not, Minister," she said firmly, and touched the COM link that lay on the table by her hand.

Every last one of the D'laians grinned.

The delegation leader shook his head happily and took out a weapon that was probably a blaster. It was hard to tell because of its showy design. The remainder of his party followed suit. "Communications have been blocked, I'm afraid, Senator. Both internal and external."

The D'laians had obviously been busy. But Typho had heard that, Anakin guessed, and was on his way to doing something about it.

This was completely unnecessary, Anakin thought. We should have dealt with them all before this. He stretched out his awareness. There were more D'laians in the corridor outside the conference room. They were clustered so he couldn't get an accurate count. He was beginning to seethe with impatience although his impassive demeanor hid it creditably.

He hated playing out this farce. It was beneath his dignity. Ten seconds, Anakin thought. Maybe twelve. I could get all five of them.

"Where do you intend to hold us?" Asked the veiled figure. "This is a diplomatic vessel, not a military one."

The D'laian waved his blaster. "In the Salon. Now." Wonderful, Anakin thought. We can sit in the Salon and wait to be rescued. We could even drink tea while we're waiting.

The conference room door opened and as the Nubians filed out of the room the D'laians who had been waiting in the corridor searched each captive for weapons.

Anakin was the last out. He had taken care to wear his cloak, which at least partially hid his light saber, but hoped fervently that someone would attempt to take it from him. The D'laians unfortunately had the sense to approach him cautiously. No one touched him.

"Hand over your light sword, Jedi," one of them demanded.

Anakin looked at him levelly. "You must be joking."

Another D'laian, probably a superior officer, said, "Hand it over, Jedi! You are our prisoner."

"No," Anakin said dismissively, brushing past him to follow the Nubian delegation. He lagged behind them just enough to make sure he had room to move if he needed it.

The two who eventually did try to grab him flew backwards knocking over two more of their comrades in the process.

Anakin turned around; hand on saber hilt, longing for one of them to try to shoot him. He was spoiling for a fight.

"I am not part of your dispute. I am going along with your little charade here in order to ensure the safety of the others," he said pointedly. "Now, don't ask me again." And he turned his back on them to follow the Nubians into the Salon. Perhaps because of his stunt with Wolan's thrown sword that morning, no blaster bolts followed him.

It was intensely disappointing.

The Salon was filling with people. Anakin took note of who was missing: Wolan and his posse of three; Typho, of course; the small group whom Anakin had sequestered in the Queen's stateroom; and the Nubian flight crew. The D'laians were obviously conducting the same head count. Many of the Nubians were looking out the view port, where a few specks that must be D'laian ships could just be seen.

Anakin wondered just how they were going to try to deal with him. They wouldn't tolerate the presence of an armed Jedi for long no matter how neutral he claimed to be. He stayed close to his charge, watching the D'laians who were watching him. Doing nothing made him feel like exploding.

Suddenly a gasp and a cheer went up from the Nubians in the Salon.

Perfectly framed in the center of the view port, a huge Republic Military Cruiser appeared surrounded by a fleet of smaller vessels.

The Chancellor had been as good as his word.

Anakin felt a rush of excitement and pride. It really was a magnificent ship. He could imagine the activity on board her right about now - troops being mustered to transports, pilots scrambling to their fighters. He longed to be part of it. By nature he was active, aggressive, always in forward motion. Ten years of Jedi training still hadn't stamped out the deep-seated urge to take matters into his own hands and to change them for the better. He imagined the pleasure of handling his own fighter...

A hand on his arm brought him abruptly back to the here and now. He realized that he had allowed his thoughts to drift for a few moments and felt ashamed. It was inexcusable. In his mind's eye Obi-Wan was glaring at him.

"Where is Wolan?" asked Sabé, for of course it was she under the veil. The Nubians were dedicated to the decoy method of protecting public figures.

It was only when Anakin reached out to find Wolan's Force signature, which he knew well by now, that he suddenly realized what they were up to. Idiot. I should never have been daydreaming...

"Arm yourselves." He snapped to Sabé. "Secure the Salon."

A ripple went through the crowd when he abruptly activated his light saber and advanced toward the armed D'laians at the door.

"Move," he demanded, compelling them with the Force. Two of them actually did step backwards and try to get out of his way. The rest Anakin shoved aside while deflecting the blaster bolts that went off as they fell. By the time the Nubian security guards rushed the D'laians he was sprinting down the corridor toward the Queen's Staterooms.

Chapter 10. Hostages

On the D'laian battle cruiser Darth Tyrannus waited patiently in the command center, observing the panorama that the computer screens laid out before him.

The Republican fleet had arrived and was holding its position. The Yacht would shortly be under the control of his old friends, the D'laians, who cared far more about personal gain than about civil war. They could have Naboo, for all he cared - if they could defeat the Republican fleet. It was of no importance to him. He did not intend to remain to find out.

Of more interest to him was the prospect that his enemy would play directly into his hands. He had probed every part of him and thought he understood him well.

‘Keep your enemies close...' the Jedi had always taught. This enemy was too close.

There could be only two: a Master and an apprentice.

He was not about to allow himself to be replaced. Not now.

* * * * *

Anakin came too late. Two Nubian security guards lay dead in the quiet, luxurious rooms. One was slumped by the door. The other had evidently fallen from the hatch in the bedroom ceiling. Both had their throats cut.

A silent death, Anakin thought. The sensors had been deactivated.

Everyone else was gone. There were signs of struggle; chairs were overturned. The pale blue veil Padmé had flung onto one of them the last time he saw her lay crumpled on the floor.

He sent the Force surging through the ship. It directed him toward the bridge. But which way? The D'laians had gained access from two entrances at once; it was plausible that they would have left in two groups. Even a sorcerer can't be in two places at once, he thought bitterly.

Sensing life in the duct directly above he decided on the high road and hurled himself into the maintenance duct above the sitting room. The third Nubian guard lay crumpled inside the duct by the opening. Anakin sent him some healing energy and dropped his cloak over him before making his way along the tube toward the prow of the vessel.

He heard blaster fire ahead and sped up, moving as fast as he could on his knees and forearms. Rounding a bend he saw that the remainder of the duct was empty, so he let himself down through the next hatch. He found himself in the empty galley, and crept toward the corridor that led to the front of the ship.

There was more blaster fire. He reached out to locate Typho and followed his Force signature. He was close. They converged in front of the bridge door, which was closed and showed signs of blaster fire. Typho was there, blaster in hand.

"Which way in?" Anakin asked shortly.

"Only through that door. The ducts end out here."

Anakin took out his light saber to sear through it. Typho restrained him.

"They have them all - Senator Amidala. Dormé and Vespé. The little girl."

"I know."

"He says they'll kill them if we try to break through."

"He won't." Anakin felt certain he knew exactly what Wolan wanted, and he was through accepting advice. Wolan wanted hostages, and he wanted to bait the Jedi with them.

"Sabé and your people are taking over the Salon," Anakin said shortly to Typho as he began to tackle the door. "They'll probably need your help."

The Security Chief wasn't ready to be dismissed by the likes of Anakin.

"Don't!" commanded Typho.

"There's a wounded man in the ducts above the Queen's stateroom." The heavy metal was beginning to yield.

"You're endangering the hostages!" Typho hissed.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Anakin said, already halfway through. He was not interested in having any further conversations about it. His focus was total. The door was beginning to glow red as the light saber cut through it with white heat.

It took him a few minutes to cut a hatch into the heavy blast door. As he had expected, he was not fired upon when he crawled through it, leaving Typho to make his own choices about what to do next. Anakin could feel how badly Wolan wanted him there.

The bridge was as generous as all the other spaces on the luxury yacht, and at the moment it was dimly lit.

Anakin stood in front of the door, his weapon sizzling with pale blue light, reaching out with his senses while his eyes adjusted to the gloom.

The men in the pilot's seats were D'laian. It wasn't clear what had happened to the Nubian flight crew. Padmé and her handmaidens were each held by a member of the Warlord's ubiquitous posse far to Anakin's left. Wolan stood at his far right holding Balé around the shoulders and neck with one arm and with a dagger to her throat. It was obvious who had been doing all the cutting.

The only possible reason he had to take the child hostage and hold her that way was to goad the Jedi who had taken an interest in her.

"You wanted me," Anakin stated in an ice-cold voice that arose from his equally icy feelings. "Here I am." Except for the constant mental mapping of the space and the energies within it that always went on in his trained mind, his attention was focused on Wolan alone. He allowed no thoughts to linger on the others. He noticed that the ship was now headed toward the D'laian fleet.

"You're very predictable," Wolan sneered from the far side of the bridge.

"Let the hostages go and deal with me directly."

Wolan laughed. "The Senator and the others are a necessary part of our plans. You are a bonus."

Anakin suspected he was a bit more than that. Something about Anakin's presence on the ship had aroused the D'laians from the very beginning. He wanted to know why.

Balé began to whimper softly.

Before Anakin could say anything Padmé's voice came from the rear corner.

"I didn't know that D'laian warriors make hostages out of defenseless children. I'm the one who is more useful to you. Let her go and keep me."

Wolan laughed. "Oh, I will keep you. Judging from your rescue force, you're more of a prize than we thought." His voice became harder. "But the child stays."

"I'm not the prize, " Padmé's voice said. "The Republic is. It doesn't matter what happens to me. The Senate's response will be the same."

By this time Anakin had finished going over his options. Twice. He didn't much like any of them. Wolan had known perfectly well that separating the captives increased the risk that someone would get hurt if Anakin tried to free them. More importantly, he had understood that the Jedi would hesitate to take those risks.

For his part, Anakin knew that the D'laian would slit a throat as soon as talk.

"What do you want?" Anakin asked.

"I want you to stay right where you are," Wolan said. Then, to his pilot, "How long?"

"Ten. Maybe twelve," the man answered. Through the view screen the D'laian fleet was looming closer.

He doesn't want Padmé, Anakin suddenly thought. He wants me. The crafty D'laians had found a way of capturing a Jedi that had a much better chance of succeeding than mere physical restraints.

And he had walked straight into their trap.

"I thought you wanted to get rid of me," Anakin said.

"I will," Wolan replied. "Believe me, I will."

Anakin tried to reach out with the Force to find out who or what was waiting for him on the D'laian fleet. He found nothing that made any sense: a kind of darkness, perhaps, that hovered around the edges of his awareness. The Force whispered to him but he could not understand what it was saying.

But he decided he was not going to wait to find out. Whatever took place had to end here.

Reaching across the abyss between himself and Padmé he lowered a few layers of shielding and tried to get her attention.

Get down.

She was right there, as though she had been waiting.

It's about time.

Get down!

He felt, rather than saw her twist out of her captor's hold and hurl herself to the floor. With his saber arm outstretched it still took him four steps to get to the D'laian who was aiming his blaster at her. Anakin lunged and the man fell. Padmé scrambled for the blaster that dropped from his hand.

Dormé fought her way out of her captor's grip with a viciousness that bespoke solid training. Padmé shot him as soon as her handmaiden managed to throw herself forward. At almost the same moment, Balé screamed. She was out of Anakin's reach at the opposite side of the room. Wolan's arm was tightening around her neck and his dagger was under her chin.

Unhesitatingly Anakin went for Wolan's throat. From across the bridge, using the Force alone, Anakin grasped the D'laian's throat and pressed with all the rage that had been building up inside of him. Wolan's head fell back and he began to gasp.

"Anakin!"

Get Vespé, he shot back, moving toward Wolan while refusing to let him go.

Wolan loosened his hold on Balé.

Anakin still pressed harder. He heard a blaster fire behind him but did not let go.

The little girl slid to the floor. So did Wolan.

Balé scrambled up and ran to her Jedi.

Wolan would never get up again.

Anakin shoved the little girl behind him as one of the pilots turned around to fire at him.

"Don't!" Anakin commanded in a voice that was augmented by the Force. The pilot hesitated just enough that Anakin could reach him with the tip of his weapon. The man froze.

"Get out. Both of you."

Threatened by a light sword and Padmé's blaster, and with Wolan and his posse down, both men decided to comply. They sprinted for the blast door and when it could not be opened, squeezed themselves through the small hatch that the Jedi had cut. From the sound of it Typho greeted them on the other side of the door.

Balé was sobbing and clutching Anakin by this time. Dormé rushed forward to retrieve her but she screamed and refused to let go of him. He picked her up and she attached herself to his neck with a stranglehold. With the child holding on for dear life Anakin sat down in the pilot's seat and began to re-set the Yacht's course.

"We need a pilot in here," he said shortly, never taking his eyes off the controls. He made the necessary adjustments with one hand while holding the child with the other, at the same time sending tendrils of the Force to soothe her.

Padmé also tried to remove Balé from Anakin's neck, but with equally little success.

"It's all right," he said, not taking his eyes from his work. "Leave her. Just find a pilot."

The Yacht banked sharply and before long the Republican fleet appeared in the view screen. Anakin headed straight for it. Typho appeared through the hatch, squeezing a little and cursing under his breath. After a brief consultation with the Senator he sat down next to Anakin in the co-pilot's seat.

"The only communications we have are with the D'laian fleet. Everything else is still jammed."

Anakin accelerated as much as he dared.

"It's all right," Anakin said. "They know we're coming."

Typho frowned at him. But it wasn't long before a Republican fighter wing caught up with the Yacht and formed an escort.

The child's sobs had died down but her grip had not.

"Right," said Typho. "I'll take over."

Anakin eased himself up and carried the little girl to the blast door.

"The only way out is to crawl through there," he said gently. "You go first and I'll be right behind you."

He heard Padmé say, behind him, "Dormé is already out there. She'll catch you." In order to reach out to Balé Anakin had let down much of his defensive shielding. Now he felt Padmé's presence like fire.

Eventually they coaxed the child out of the hatch and into the secured corridor, and the adults followed. Dormé had managed to hold onto Balé for the moment, and there were deep breaths all around.

Padmé spoke to the child gently but firmly.

"I need to speak with the Jedi now. Go with Dormé and he will come to see you later."

There was something about her tone that did not invite argument. Balé subsided.

Padmé turned to Anakin and looked him in the eye.

"Come with me." She turned and walked down the corridor.

He followed her.

* * * * *

Once he saw the Nubian ship return to the Republican fleet with its fighter escort, Darth Tyrannus made a quiet departure from the D'laian vessel.

His Master's plan was obviously working.

His own, however, required further thought. If he did nothing Sidious would sooner or later force him into another confrontation with the boy. It was something he wanted to avoid. The boy was not yet fully trained, but the Force was stronger with him than it had any right to be.

He had to dispose of him soon, before his Master got his hands on him.

Otherwise he was doomed.

* * * * *

Padmé headed for the small conference room, which at the moment was likely to be the only private place on the ship.

When Anakin had entered she locked the door and turned to look at him.

There was a long silence.

Not taking her eyes off his, Padmé said, "You did it again. You saved all of our lives."

"I will always protect you," Anakin said. "No matter what."

"Doesn't anything ever frighten you?" Padmé wondered out loud, not certain how to reach out to him. He seemed to be speaking to her across a great distance.

"Yes," he said with his usual heart-wrenching honesty. "Losing people I love." He stayed where he was - awkward, stiff, but with fire in his eyes.

That did it. With desperation comes inspiration.

Padmé crossed the room to him with those four or five steps that she should have taken earlier in her stateroom, took hold of his leather tunic with both fists and shoved him against the wall. Hard.

Surprised and more than willing, Anakin let it happen.

"Pay attention," she said, not more than two inches from his lips. "I am not afraid of you. And you are very easy to love."

Her pulse pounded in her throat while she waited to see what he would do.

Not more than a couple of heartbeats passed before he met her lips with a hunger that took her breath away. As he gradually let down the rest of his defenses their embrace became as passionate as it was healing.

The ache Padmé had been carrying around since he left her disappeared.

"Padmé," he said when he could speak again, pouring all of his love and relief into the single word.

"Don't leave me again," she whispered, still holding on to him tightly.

"I thought you wanted me to."

"No. Never. I'm sorry for everything I said..."

Anakin cut her off with another breath-defying kiss. He was mindfully focusing on the here and now.

As always when Anakin was alone with her he let go of his mental shielding. It was the only time that he was completely open, vulnerable, and wholly himself. The unleashed Force surged around them and through them like a torrent as they clung to one another in the quiet room. Padmé had the oddest sensation of the physical barriers and boundaries between them blurring and disappearing.

She wondered, somewhat disjointedly, how she had ever imagined she could go on without him. Then she stopped thinking at all.

Someone knocked on the conference room door.

Padmé ignored it.

The knock came again, more firmly.

"My Lady!" It was a security guard. "Captain Typho needs Jedi Skywalker in the Salon!"

Padmé clutched him tightly. She wasn't ready to relinquish him just now, for any reason. It was Anakin who reluctantly pulled away from her.

"No..." she protested, feeling torn in two.

"You know I have to go," he whispered, and moved toward the conference room door. He was still protecting her - this time from being discovered.

Padmé was beyond being able to compose herself. Anakin had no such difficulty. As soon as he opened the door he once again looked every inch the Jedi - remote, self-contained and focused. To Padmé it felt as though a drawbridge had gone up, leaving her on the far side. She was beginning to ache again.

"Tell him I'm on my way," he told the guard.

Padmé took a deep, deep breath.

Anakin, she called out again just to see whether he would hear her. He looked up and smiled.

Here, he replied, as clearly as if he had spoken.

Confident now that she could reach him in this way, Padmé grudgingly let him go.

Chapter 11. Crossroads

The Senate had a vast new clone army but not enough commanding officers. Seasoned soldiers and new recruits alike were pouring into Coruscant daily from around the Galaxy for processing and training. But the war did not wait and commanders had to be found for the interim. Until the new cadre of career officers could be qualified and put into action, the Jedi Council faced regular demands that Jedi Masters be taken from their duties and given temporary command positions. It was a source of great displeasure to the Council. Only three days before Master Andros had been pulled away from an important training mission to command a fleet in the Naboo Sector.

With Tec Andros in command, it was a simple matter for Obi-Wan Kenobi to obtain permission to board the Galactic Cruiser even as it faced off against the D'laians. Making his way from the vast docking bay to the command center along identical, brightly lit corridors filled with identical, unnaturally quiet troopers he had the eerie feeling that he was the only living thing inside of a vast machine. Robbed of their individuality and their will, the clone troopers left odd Force signatures that had more in common with those of plants than of sentient beings. Even animals had more individuality.

Of course, Obi-Wan thought, sifting through his impressions. The Force does not love a machine. He pulled his cloak around him more tightly as though it could ward off the deep inner chill he felt in those surroundings.

It came as a profound relief to find Tec, who with his lopsided face, rough Jedi robes and powerful Force signature was a warm and vibrant presence in an otherwise sinister place.

"What is it about this Sector?" Tec Andros asked his friend as they embraced. "First me, now you. I didn't think the Council could spare us. These D'laians really don't look like that much of a threat to me. They have hesitated to engage us so far." But for the robes, the brawny Corellian who was now Supreme Commander of the Fleet looked more like a pirate than a Jedi Master but he was a legendary fighter and strategist.

"I'm really here as a visitor," Obi-Wan said. "I was on my way to Naboo to meet my Padawan, when I heard about this little confrontation."

Tec raised his eyebrows. "And you paused in your journey to join us in our battle? That was kind of you, but I think we can manage." He gazed out the view screen and then checked the computer array. "In fact, there may not be one. There was a clear shift in their intentions around the time our fighters picked up the Yacht."

Obi-Wan smiled. That was something no computer array could have told him.

"My Padawan is on the Queen's Yacht."

"Skywalker? That Padawan?" Tec looked at him doubtfully. He didn't envy Obi-Wan his responsibility for the so-called Chosen One. Skywalker, he remembered from a few training missions, was a handful. Given only two options the boy always created a third and a fourth, usually with some kind of mishap attached....

"The very one. Why?"

"Well, there is certainly a strong Jedi presence on board. They lost their communications but we managed all right." He looked down at data readout. "We have just brought the Yacht on board, in fact. Do you want to go down?"

"No," Obi-Wan said. "Not now."

Tec looked up from his screen.

Obi-Wan felt called upon to explain.

"This is actually his mission. He doesn't know I'm here."

Tec grinned. "The old stalking Master trick. Well done. How are you going to keep nhim from sensing your presence?"

Quite easily, actually, Obi-Wan thought with some pain. "I have my ways."

"I imagine you do," Tec remarked sympathetically. "It can't be easy to have that one as a Padawan."

"Oh," said Obi-Wan neutrally. "We have our ups and downs."

Tec heard and felt his way through the comment.

"Well," he said, hoping to cheer his friend up, "He seems to have done his job on this one. The Senator is safe. The Nubians lost a few, and so did the D'laians. They're bringing in the rest as prisoners for us to deal with."

"Then if you're bringing Senator Amidala back to Naboo, my Padawan's mission is finished."

"Actually," Tec said, "I heard the Senator wants to continue on to Naboo on the Yacht with just a fighter escort."

Obi-Wan became very thoughtful.

This was a perfect opportunity to retrieve Anakin.

Then why did it feel so important to avoid confronting him right now?

Anakin was his Padawan; it was his duty to come where and when he was told. By all his rights and duties as Master he should march to the docking bay, reclaim the boy, and go back home. But powerful feelings told him to wait. Wait. He had long since learned to trust them.

The reason he needed to wait became obvious once he accepted it.

If he confronted Anakin now, he would lose.

In a lifetime in the Jedi Temple Obi-Wan had never seen an attachment like Anakin had with Senator Amidala. If he was honest with himself, as he always tried to be, he didn't understand it. For Obi-Wan the Order had always met all of his needs. Like Tec, for example. They had not seen one another for more than a year, yet they were completely attuned: brothers in the truest sense of the word. As different as they were, they were deeply aligned on the values and goals of a life of service. It was fulfilling and enriching and any other existence was beyond imagining. They could entrust their lives to one another without a second thought.

But Anakin had always struggled to find his place in the Order. He tried so hard. Obi-Wan's heart wrenched at the memory of the little boy he inherited from his own Master making desperate efforts to fit in, to obey, to be like everyone else. But there had always seemed to be a contrary set of forces inside of him that made everything more difficult. He was temperamental; mercurial. He questioned everything. He always seemed to be seeking and longing for things outside of himself and outside of the world he inhabited.

Somehow the Senator had reached something in the boy that the Order could not. The resulting conflict within him was devastating not only to Anakin but to everyone connected with him.

To make matters worse, his divided loyalties were making him untrustworthy. It was beginning to be clear that, if it came down to a choice between the Senator and one of Anakin's Jedi brethren, his Padawan would choose the Senator. And that alone made the attachment very problematic indeed.

No. If he went down to the docking bay and demanded that Anakin return with him, and if the boy refused, it would widen the rift between them. If his Padawan bolted and fled the Order now he would be set loose on the Galaxy with all of his devastating skills and equally destructive lack of control.

The dark dread that haunted him was becoming stronger and stronger as he came closer to his Padawan. All he could think of was to find a way of reaching Anakin's heart and mind, and to persuade him to come back to the Temple. No matter how much he struggled against it, Obi-Wan was certain that with the strength of the Jedi Order behind him, Anakin could be made safe.

Safe from what?

The Jedi Master didn't know. He just sensed that there was danger around his Padawan. And it was his job to help him.

Obi-Wan had been silent so long that Tec Andros went back to what he was doing. He was content to allow his comrade and brother to take all the time he wanted to mull things over.

"Tec," Obi-Wan finally said to the Corellian's back, "I'm not going to interfere. I'll let my Padawan complete his mission. But I would like to talk to you for a while. I have a number of questions...."

Master Andros turned around and smiled slightly. "Don't we all. There are a lot of things here that don't make sense. Have you heard about the defense force that's planned for Naboo?"

* * * * *

All the Nubians aboard the queen's Yacht were relieved when the last of the D'laians was transferred to the Galactic Cruiser, but none more than Padmé. She badly wanted them off her ship and out of her life - not least because they were a constant reminder of her poor decision-making. But there was something else about the whole incident that disturbed her - something she could not put her finger on.

"I'm tired," she thought, still suffering from a nagging ache that refused to get better. "I need time to rest and think this through."

No sooner did the Senator from Naboo feel as though she could breathe again then a message arrived from Coruscant and she once again found herself facing the Chancellor's image.

"I am so grateful to find you safe, Senator," the image began.

"Thank you for your prompt assistance, Chancellor," she replied. It was fortunate that such a large force was available on short notice."

"Fortunate indeed, Senator, but good fortune cannot be repeated at will. We must take steps to safeguard Naboo."

"For obvious reasons we have not yet had the time to analyze fully the D'laian threat." Padmé replied. "But we are give to understand that they have not engaged our fleet, and may not at all. I suspect that they are merely bullies, Chancellor. I'm not sure that we will require further protection.

"I disagree quite strongly, Senator. It is not merely a question of the D'laians, but of their associations. If they are indeed allied with the Separatists, Naboo is in great danger and will be until this conflict has been resolved in our favor."

Padmé was beginning to get a headache. It began in her temples and was rapidly spreading, making it difficult to think.

"What kind of protection are you talking about, Chancellor?"

"I have allocated a substantial fighting force to take up permanent residence on Naboo, effective immediately."

"What?" It felt like there was a vise around Padmé's temples. "That's absurd. We can take care of ourselves for the time being. If the war should move into this Sector, we can call upon you for assistance again, like every other system. We don't need to be singled out like this. I honestly don't believe the D'laians pose that much of a threat."

"You must be very tired from your recent ordeal, Senator. I suggest we discuss this at another time, when you are feeling more yourself."

Padmé wanted to fight his suggestion, but the pain was interfering with her ability to formulate her thoughts.

"Chancellor, I do not agree with this action. This conversation is not finished."

"Be well, Senator," the image said distantly, and then flickered off.

Padmé collapsed forward into the table in the small conference room where she had been working, and cradled her head in her hands.

Suddenly the pain began to ebb away. Even the ache disappeared.

Better?

She raised her head to see Anakin leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

The flood of gratitude he received in return made him smile.

Captain Typho pushed past him into the room. Anakin ambled in after him.

"I think you were too efficient in re-establishing our external communications, Captain," Padmé said to her Security Chief as he sat down. She gave him a brief summary of her disturbing conversation with the Chancellor.

"I think it's a good idea," Anakin ventured. "The Chancellor is just trying to keep Naboo - and you - safe."

Padmé had a great deal to say on the subject but didn't want to get into it right now. All she wanted was to rest. And think.

Typho was thoughtful. "Perhaps we should take the Commander up on his offer to bring us back to Naboo."

"No." Padmé was firm on this point. "That would mean waiting until this thing is resolved. I want to get home. We will be fine. The Fleet stands between us and the D'laians.

She looked from Typho to Anakin. "Where is Sabé? I haven't seen her all day."

"She's talking to all the civilians on board, "Typho said. "Bringing them up to date. Calming them down."

Padmé sighed deeply. "I don't know what I would do without all of you." Anakin knew with certainty that he was included in that remark.

Pushing back her chair, Padmé announced, "I'm going to retire. Let me know when we are underway. I will communicate our thanks to the Fleet Commander from the stateroom."

Captain Typho stood as well. "I'll make the arrangements." He looked at Anakin, who still lounged in his chair.

"I have to see someone," the Jedi said.

It was Padmé's turn to smile. She was sure she knew whom he meant.

* * * * *

It wasn't long before Anakin brought a much happier Balé to Padmé and transferred the little girl to her arms. She went willingly but never took her eyes off of her rescuer.

"Balé would like to stay with you."

Reaching for the child, Padmé realized with surprise that Anakin sounded as weary as she felt. It was easy to take his strength for granted and to forget that he ever suffered from tiredness, or hunger or any of those other all-too-human weaknesses.

He actually sat down in a chair rather than standing or prowling the room as usual. Rubbing his hands over his face, he said, "Captain Typho said to tell you that the internal COM links will not be back up before we get to Naboo. The D'laians didn't just disconnect them, they smashed the junctions. But the ship is secure and we expect to arrive on Naboo in a few hours."

He yawned. "I think I need to sleep for a little while."

"Can I put him to bed?" asked Balé, afraid that he was going to disappear from her sight.

Padmé thought for a minute and then whispered to Balé. The little girl nodded and ran into the bedroom only to emerge again dragging Dormé behind her.

"Can you make up a pallet for Anakin in here?" Padmé asked. "Balé won't let him out of her sight."

She's not the only one, Dormé thought, raising her eyebrows, but nodded and did as she was bidden. Padmé in the meantime pushed Anakin into the fresher, handing him a garment of some kind as she did so.

When he emerged damp and wearing a voluminous robe that could only have come from Naboo a low bed had been made for him in the corner of the sitting room. Balé went to take him by the hand and encountered the artificial fingers that peeked out from under one of the long, full sleeves. It was the first time she had seen him without gloves. She stopped and stared.

Anakin watched her to gauge her reaction, but said nothing.

"Do they hurt?" Balé breathed.

"No," said Anakin.

She kept staring at them. "Why do you have them?" She finally asked.

"I couldn't play tumble sticks or juggle without them," Anakin said, sinking down into the pallet.

Padmé, watching, bit her lip.

"Or fight," Balé said.

"Or fight," Anakin agreed.

Balé had a lot of other questions but her Jedi seemed to be fading away. Deciding that if he didn't seem bothered she wouldn't be, either, she pulled the covers over him and tucked him in as best she could.

"Mmrph," said Anakin by way of thanks, and then he was silent.

Padmé dimmed the room lights and returned to her chair, pulling Balé on to her lap. Over the child's head she said to Dormé, "I'll keep her here with me." Dormé nodded and slipped out.

"I'm good at putting people to bed," Balé said, satisfied with her effort.

"You're good at a lot of things," Padmé said, as the child snuggled onto her shoulder. "You were very brave today, and I am proud of you."

"I thought everybody was going to die, like my mommy and daddy," she said after a while.

"I know," said Padmé. She had thought so, too.

She could feel Balé getting heavy in her arms as the child sank toward sleep. "If the Jedi had been there, he could have saved them," Balé whispered. She was talking about her parents.

Padmé said nothing, but stroked the child's hair. She feels so safe with him, she thought. And so do I.

After a while Balé was asleep, too.

Miraculously no longer tired, Padmé kept watch over both of them all the way home.

Chapter 12. Homecomings

Wherever Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo went people surrounded her. She never had less than two Handmaidens with her at all times. When traveling she was accompanied by a Security detail. She had a permanent staff in her Senate offices on Coruscant, another administrative staff in her Constituency Office on Naboo, and a personal staff attached to her official residence in the Palace in Theed. Padmé was accustomed to it. This was the way her life had been since her election as Queen more than a decade ago.

Homecoming was always a chaotic affair. This time it was even more so, if that was possible. Sabé had presented her with a schedule of meetings and an official itinerary before Padmé had even disembarked from the Yacht. A briefing for the Queen was at the top of the list.

By the time she arrived at her so-called private residence with her entourage the luggage from the Yacht had been delivered and even the spacious apartment felt crowded. People scurried around the rooms unpacking. People asked her questions. People clustered around her demanding that she make decisions, both large and small. People told her what to do and how to do it.

Padmé wasn't taking it well. The journey from Coruscant had been an ordeal and an epiphany all at once. She was sleep deprived, couldn't remember when she had last eaten, and most of all she missed Anakin so much that she wanted to cry. After having him either by her side or within immediate reach throughout the entire journey, he had disappeared once the Yacht landed and she hadn't seen him since.

He has only been gone for a few hours, she reminded herself.

It felt like a lifetime.

What if he has gone back to Coruscant without saying goodbye?

She was clearly becoming irrational. He wouldn't do that.

What if I never see him again?

"My Lady, are you all right?"

Sabé's worried voice broke into her obsessive thoughts.

"My Lady, you're as white as a sheet. Come over here and sit down."

Padmé sank blindly into the nearest chair. Dormé appeared as if by magic on her other side. The two Handmaidens exchanged anxious glances over her head. They noticed her rubbing her hand over her chest, as though something hurt. She didn't seem to be aware that she was doing it.

"I'm tired," Padmé said, in a small voice. "I'm terribly tired."

The Handmaidens exchanged a few whispers and took immediate action. Sabé got the unpackers working double time and managed to get most of the job done and the room cleared in record time. Dormé in the meanwhile brought her mistress some juice and something light to eat. Padmé picked at the offerings.

The administrative staff and the Queen's personal messenger were harder to deal with. They both required the Senator's full attention and commitment of time for a number of pressing issues. The Queen's messenger in particular had orders to personally escort the Senator before the Queen as soon possible.

Spend the day with me.

Sabé was just negotiating with him when she heard a crash. Padmé had apparently dropped her crystal juice glass on the marble floor. The splinters went everywhere.

Oh, Padmé thought, not minding about the glass at all. Is it possible?

Anakin?

Send them all away. Spend the day with me. This one came with a sense impression that very quickly brought the color back into the Senator's face.

Where are you?

Sabé was observing her Mistress very, very closely and took note of the change in her expression and her sudden color.

I love you. You love me. Spend the day with me.

This boldness was a new side of Anakin. Padmé could only suppose that she had finally made her feelings abundantly clear.

Sabé noticed that Padmé hardly acknowledged the staff that appeared to clear away the crystal shards. Normally she was deeply courteous to servants. Now she seemed far way somewhere.

Interesting. A few minutes before she had looked and acted ill and now the color was back in her face and her eyes were sparkling. Sabé began discretely to search the room, looking behind curtains and inside of closets when no one was observing her. She even checked out the palatial fresher. Nothing.

I want to. Oh, I want to. But I don't know how.

"My Lady?" Dormé was a little alarmed when it took three tries to get Padmé's attention.

Imagine that you knew for certain that we only had this one day. What would you do?

Having searched the entire apartment and not found what she was looking for, Sabé slipped through the tall glass-paneled doors that linked the living room with the expansive terrace. The late morning sun was hot and bright and for a moment she couldn't see anything. Then as her eyes adjusted she spotted Anakin sunning himself on the broad stone balustrade in a far corner of the terrace, propped up against the vine-covered wall of the Palace. Sabé walked to the edge of the terrace and looked down a long way. She didn't even want to think about how he had gotten there.

Anakin was sitting comfortably with one long leg folded under him and the other dangling down on the outside of the warm stone railing. He was picking seedpods off the thick eliril vine that covered the wall and throwing them idly but accurately at nearby treetops.

Sabé walked over to him.

"I knew you had to be around here somewhere," she said. "She's dropping things and going pink."

Anakin smiled and lobbed another seedpod at the tallest of the ancient trees that stood in the grove below. The crown was so lofty it reached higher than the terrace on which he sat.

"I'd like to know just what your intentions are toward her," Sabé said directly.

Anakin stopped what he was doing and looked Sabé full in the face.

"To love her and cherish her until the day I die and to make her happy," he replied, just as directly.

Sabé swallowed, taken aback. "I thought you were just a fling."

"Why?" Anakin asked. "Does she have those regularly?"

"N...no," Sabé stammered. "Never, actually."

Anakin lobbed another seedpod. It hit a high branch with a satisfying smack.

"Then why would you think she is having one now?"

"Well for one thing," Sabé retorted, recovering, "you're not exactly available, are you? I mean, you're still a Jedi, right?"

Anakin didn't answer, but the next seedpod hit its target with enough force to burst.

"Do you think you can help her get rid of all those people?"

Sabé became indignant. "I cover for her," she said, "when it won't do any harm. Not for you. Not any more."

Two more seedpods hit their targets in rapid succession. "Whether you cover for her or for me, it's the same thing," Anakin said. "We're going to be together."

Sabé glowered at him. "I disapprove of this. It can only end in misery."

The vine was rapidly becoming denuded of seedpods within arm's reach. Anakin settled back on his perch with his hands folded over his stomach and closed his eyes, effectively shutting Sabé out. He could not have expressed his unwillingness to discuss the subject more clearly.

It wasn't long before there was a stifled scream from the apartment and Dormé's voice cried out, "My Lady!" Other voices rose in a hubbub. Sabé sprinted inside to find that her mistress had evidently fainted.

That sneaking son of the seventh pit, Sabé thought. Wait till I get my hands on him.

Anakin had to wait nearly another half hour before the commotion died down and the Palace doctor had seen Padmé and prescribed bed rest for at least a day. He spent the time taming a small brown bird and feeding it eliril seeds from the pods that flew into his hands as needed. When the bird flew away, satisfied, he leaned back and closed his eyes again and didn't re-open them until he felt Padmé's hand slide over his chest.

"That was fun," she said. "With a little help it was even convincing."

"You didn't fall hard, did you?" he asked, pulling her onto his lap.

"No. It was fine. It scared the life out of Dormé, though." Despite the precipice below her Padmé felt completely safe as long as Anakin was there. He smelled of sunshine and fresh air and his skin was desert-hot to the touch. She arranged herself along the length of him with her head tucked under his chin and her face to the sun. His arms came around her and held her securely. She wrapped her leg around his where it rested along the balustrade.

Gentled by the sun and the air and the rhythmic rising and falling of Anakin's chest as he breathed and the hand that caressed her hair and her cheek Padmé finally let all the worry and fear of the last few days slip away. Anakin could feel her sink into him as she relaxed.

"I was afraid you had left without saying goodbye," she finally said, sleepily.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"But you have completed your mission. I'm safely home." She shifted her position a bit and burrowed into his shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said again.

He felt her tense.

"Don't worry," he said, stroking her back to make her relax again. "There is no point in wasting today by worrying about tomorrow. Don't think about anything else."

"But I do worry."

The last thing Anakin wanted was to think about going back. He had finally made enough headway in his unceasing battle for Padmé's heart that she was now happily soaking up sun in his arms instead of meeting her obligations. He didn't want her worrying about anything. Not now. Not today. What he really wanted was her undivided attention for a change.

"You obviously need something else to think about."

He sent her a suggestion that instantly raised her pulse rate and made her breath catch.

"Where do you learn these things?" Padmé mumbled from his shoulder. "Is that part of Jedi training?"

Anakin smiled to himself. "In a way. They teach us to pay attention. It works for everything."

"I'll say," Padmé mumbled again.

He was satisfied that his strategy had worked. She wasn't thinking about his leaving any more.

"Why are you so different?" Padmé asked after a while.

"I'm not different."

"You are. You're... not hesitant."

"Oh, that." There was a warm, lazy pause. Padmé waited drowsily for him to answer.

"I know you love me."

"I did before. What changed?"

"Well, now I really know. I ...saw it." He gathered her closer and leaned his cheek on her hair.

"How?"

"The last time I kissed you. After... you know."

"I know."

Neither one of them wanted to think about the ugly incident on the bridge of the Yacht.

"For a moment we ...merged. I saw everything. I know you. I know how you feel about me. There is nothing to doubt."

There was a peaceful silence, and then Padmé said, "If you know all this about me, what do I know about you?"

He closed his eyes as if trying to remember every detail of something. "That I'm the missing piece of you. The thing you have been longing for but didn't even have a name for. The one absolute..." he paused, searching "...unequivocal love of your life."

He really had seen into her heart.

"How do you know that's you?" She teased, wanting to continue this sunny, blissful conversation just to enjoy the sound of his voice.

"Because that's how you feel, and I can sense your feelings."

Maybe that is all any of us really wants, she thought. To be seen. To be truly known.

"And you?" She asked after a while, basking in the pleasure of every stolen moment, "If I had your ability to perceive feelings, what would I find in you?"

"You would understand that you are the center of my universe," he said reverently. "Everything begins with you and ends with you."

Padmé may not have possessed Jedi perceptions, but the surge of his heartbeat under her cheek and the tremor in his fingers as he stroked her hair spoke to her as vividly of his feelings as music and textures speak to the blind.

Enough conversation, she decided. She slid off his lap and began pulling him towards the terrace doors.

"That merging thing has possibilities," she said, as he swung his leg over the balustrade and let himself be pulled.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he replied, as they disappeared into the cool, now mercifully quiet apartment, bringing the sun's warmth with them.

* * * * *

There are moments, Obi-Wan thought, when everything is in perfect balance. The past is past...the future has not yet arrived, and we can just stay in between them - quiet, waiting, whole. No demands. No decisions. Just being.

You're not meditating; another part of his mind told him. You are talking to yourself.

The best of these moments, he went on, ignoring his inner voice, come when you are on your way somewhere. Transition. Suspension. Nothing to do but wait.

You're procrastinating, that's what you're doing.

Alone. No one can hold you to account. No decisions need to be made.

Coward.

No one knows where you are. You're a tiny mote of dust in vast space, drifting among the stars.

You're in your ship. You are on course. Idiot.

Peace. Freedom. Harmony.

You just don't want to arrive there. You would stay out here indefinitely to avoid it.

The Universe is a meaningful whole, bound together by the Force.

You were asked to leave it alone, but you went anyway.

Each tiny piece of the whole has its purpose and its destiny.

You didn't tell anyone you were coming.

This is one of those perfect moments.

It's cold. It's dark. And you are alone. Again.

The COM link is beeping.

The COM link is beeping.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and glanced at the console. Approaching Naboo. Already. He sighed and activated the link to announce his presence and get landing instructions since he was arriving without warning. For ten years he had successfully avoided coming back to this small jewel box of a planet.

He was a Jedi Knight, he reminded himself. He had a job to do. He shouldn't feel like crying.

* * * * *

Padmé's ‘illness' lasted the rest of that day and all of the next day and night. She remained secluded, accepting food and drink but refusing visitors of any kind except the doctor who authorized a second day of rest. To Dormé's grief and Sabé's outrage she even refused to see her Handmaidens.

"The journey and the encounter with the D'laians was quite an ordeal," Sabé said to the worried Queen through gritted teeth. "I'm certain she will be fine once she gets some rest. The Doctor said she is suffering from nervous exhaustion."

During those two days the young Jedi who had been assigned to protect the Senator on the journey that was now commonly referred to as "The D'laian Incident" was sighted here and there around Theed just often enough so that no particular connection was made between his whereabouts and the Senator's. Once he bought fruit and bread in the market. Palace staff watched him teach a little girl to climb a tree. He visited Typho in his office once, briefly, to catch up on the latest news. Most of the time no one saw him or gave him any thought. The Palace was full of people coming and going.

No one, that is, except for a lone Jedi Knight who had arrived on Naboo unannounced on the second day of the Senator's ‘illness'. He was skilled at remaining hidden. His observation of the Senator and the young Jedi remained entirely his own business.

On the morning of the third day the Senator, looking healthy and radiant once again, briefed the Queen on her journey and kept all of her daytime appointments.

It marked the end of her seclusion because during the short time of her confinement things had begun to change drastically on Naboo. Armored soldiers and equipment were arriving in a seemingly endless stream. The ensuing political, economic and social tensions escalated rapidly, and all the Senator's daytime hours were spent dealing with the crisis brought on by the arrival of the so-called defensive force. While she was working the young Jedi made himself scarce.

However, pleading continued fatigue, the Senator let it be known that she would not accept any dinner invitations or schedule evening meetings for the foreseeable future.

Setting those limits was the easiest thing in the world.

Chapter 13. Explorations

Having not set foot on Naboo for more than ten years Obi-Wan found the section of Theed near the spaceport to be nearly unrecognizable. It wasn't that the city itself had changed so much. The ancient walls were still there, as were the curving streets and spacious plazas that characterized the Nubians' gracious lifestyle. A few new buildings in the Gungan style of glittering crystalline spheres dotted the skyline here and there, and quite a few Gungans appeared among the Nubians on the streets, but those were the normal signs of change in a progressive society.

No, the real change was that little more than two days after the Republic's standoff with the D'laians the ancient city streets were teeming with soldiers and military vehicles. The stark white of their armor and the sharp angles of their vehicles contrasted harshly with the ancient golden stones and soft lines of Naboo's old capitol city. The increased noise level was also startling. Obi-Wan remembered Theed, when not under siege, as a peaceful and quiet place punctuated more by the sound of running water, music and conversation than by marching boots and the roar of vehicles.

Tec Andros had been right. This so-called protective force was looking more and more like an occupation army.

It was also interesting to mull over why Tec had been assigned to the fleet in the Naboo Sector two days before the Yacht's distress call.

Obi-Wan had resolved to walk for a while, to re-acquaint himself with the City and the uniquely local ways the Force had shaped it and given it its character before tackling his immediate problem. Since at the moment he had not decided how best to proceed, his walk became longer and longer and after a while he realized that he had been circling through the city in a kind of elliptical orbit around one place.

The main hangar.

Once he became aware of the tilt in his personal center of gravity he recognized that it had been pulling him there all along.

Perhaps if he was to have a chance at succeeding with the difficult task before him, there was something he had to do first.

This won't help, he argued with himself, at a standstill in front of the massive building. It wouldn't help any more than the nights he had lain awake replaying the fateful battle with the Sith over and over again in his mind. Or countless times he had imagined different choices, different moves. Moves that would have allowed him to arrive at his Master's side more quickly, or to confront his enemy more wisely.

Obi-Wan tried to convince himself that revisiting that place would be a self-indulgent and useless detour. He had more important things to do. He needed to remain steadfastly in the here and now.

Destiny, he told himself firmly, is not played out in places but between people. It belongs in the realm of forward action, not remembrance.

His feet kept moving toward the building anyway. Some inner impulse was shoving him, hard, in that direction.

I don't want to, he thought ineffectually as he entered through the main doors after all.

The hangar was profoundly changed as well, and like the spaceport it was a hive of activity. It appeared that new equipment was arriving continually. Fighters were being moved around and teams of people, both Galactic troopers and Nubians, clustered around them. With the help of some light Force cloaking Obi-Wan made his way around the busy docking bay unnoticed and confronted the massive doors to the power station.

The image of a grinning, taunting Sith standing inside that same doorway was burned into his memory. He could almost see him in the flesh. He certainly remembered the bitter tang of his hatred. And his power.

I've seen enough. I'm leaving now, he thought, as he unwillingly walked through the door and toward the power station. That part of the hangar had not changed. The huge room was as noisy and steamy as ever. The catwalks bridged the spaces above the generators exactly as he remembered, and far ahead of him was the service corridor with the laser doors where he had failed his Master.

There. I failed to save my Master. May I go now?

Apparently not. He still kept walking.

What do you want from me?

He negotiated the service corridor with hardly a pause. Ten years of counting the number of steps along the catwalks in his dreams, ten years of counting the number of seconds the doors were open and the distances between them had etched that singular path in his memory.

A bit late now, isn't it? What is the point of all this?

By the time Obi-Wan arrived at the melting pit he was seething with frustration.

I have already dealt with all this. I have already done my grieving. Why am I here?

There was the pit into which his enemy disappeared.

What am I to see here?

Right in front of him was the place on the metal catwalk where his Master had fallen and begged him with his dying breath to train Anakin.

A breeze ruffled Obi-Wan's hair in a room that had no draughts.

Anakin. What about Anakin?

Qui-Gon. The Sith. Anakin. They formed a connection of sorts. But what was its significance?

Obi-Wan sank down into a seated posture with enormous reluctance. This was a miserable place to meditate, but there was nothing else he could do. He needed answers.

* * * * *

The D'laian warrior looked greedily at the small pile of Aurodium ingots on the desk.

"Jedi are hard to kill," he said.

"Nonsense. You just have to know how. I can help you with that."

"Just the one? There won't be any others?" The Warrior finally tore his eyes away from the small fortune and looked at the man who was offering it to him.

"Just the one. The same one, by the way, who killed your D'ai Wolan."

The warrior pursed his lips.

"Why are you offering the job to us? We can't move freely on Naboo. There's a big garrison there. It makes things more complicated." He looked longingly at the ingots, but persisted. "Why not hire a bounty hunter?"

"Well," the man on the other side of the table said, shrugging, "I can do that of course. I just thought you might enjoy the opportunity after he made fools of all of you." He sighed and reached for the gleaming pile. "Thank you for your time. I'll find someone who does not fear the Jedi."

"Wait."

Count Dooku looked up, with a bored expression on his face.

"Yes?"

"You say you can teach us how to kill Jedi?"

"Of course." The Count released the pile and folded his hands in front of him on the table. "There is nothing to it."

The warrior spat in his hand and slapped it down on the table.

"Done."

* * * * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi had the distinction of being the first Jedi Knight in almost a millennium to have killed a Sith. After an extended and difficult meditation in the most unlikely of places he was well on his way to figuring out how to track the workings of the Dark Side in the Force. He just didn't realize it yet.

Master Yoda had always insisted that the truth has to be simple.

Obi-Wan arose from his difficult inner work with a number of clear pictures in his mind.

He was certain now that the dark dread that had entered his awareness when Anakin left the Temple was related to the Sith. It was more than a feeling or a worry. It was an imprint left by something. Obi-Wan struggled to clarify the picture and finally decided that it was analogous less to a footprint in the snow than to a leftover gravity silhouette. The stark absence of something, recent experience with locating the planet Kamino had taught him, was as telling as its presence.

He was also certain that whatever was leaving the Sith-impression was after his Padawan. The thing that had entered his awareness in Coruscant, and to which he gave the name ‘dread', seemed to move as Anakin moved. Obi-Wan made no assumptions about the connection. He merely observed it.

Finally, he had experienced a powerful image of his old Master Qui-Gon Jinn standing with his arms outstretched, balancing the Sith on one side and Anakin on the other. This image puzzled Obi-Wan more than the others. His Master had been on his mind ever since his arrival on Naboo, but Obi-Wan had thought it was because of his personal memories. Now he wasn't so sure.

If Anakin is In fact the Chosen One, he thought, shouldn't he be at the center? Shouldn't he provide the balance?

But there was no more to be learned at the moment, and Obi-Wan gratefully returned to his conscious mind, stretched his stiff limbs and left the hissing power plant without a backward glance.

The golden light and long shadows outside called attention to the fact that it was already late afternoon. He had been on Naboo for the better part of a day and not yet decided on the best way to approach Anakin.

I shouldn't have to be doing this, part of his mind insisted. My Padawan should do what he is told, when he is told.

The Knight's heart was wiser than his mind and let the thought go.

With a steadiness of purpose he headed back to the spaceport district and secured lodgings in a small, anonymous guesthouse. Next, he laid aside his Jedi robes and put on clothing that would allow him to blend into the surroundings - in this case, the slightly shabby jumpsuit typical of freighter crews. A long padded jacket hid his lightsaber effectively enough.

He spent the evening scouting the district around the Palace and striking up conversations with Palace staff. Remarkably, few of the people he spoke with at length remembered him or their conversation after he left.

A few more stops in the wilder taverns around the spaceport also proved fruitful. There he managed to remain almost as anonymous, although an unavoidable scuffle with a drunken port security guard came close to bringing him some unwanted attention. Still, by the end of the evening no one remembered the bearded cargo jockey at all.

After the taverns closed he snuck back into his ship and sent a brief but urgent message to Coruscant. Tomorrow he would confront Anakin.

Chapter 14. The Hunt

When Obi-Wan Kenobi finally did set out to find his Padawan on the following day he did so openly, wearing his Jedi robes. He began his search at the Palace. Senator Amidala, it was said, had recovered from her illness and was attending meetings all day. But Anakin was nowhere to be found and hardly anyone remembered having seen a young Jedi at all.

News in the Palace always traveled fast. Under the circumstances it was remarkable that, as yet, no one outside Padmé's inner circle knew about her connection with a certain young Jedi. However, the inner circle very quickly learned about Master Kenobi's visit this morning.

On his way out of the Palace Obi-Wan suddenly found that he had company. Two of the Senator's famous Handmaidens appeared on either side of him as if by magic and guided him to a private meeting room before he could protest, although he had not yet planned to make his presence known to the Senator's staff. Despite his formidable skills they easily captured him with the silken handcuffs of protocol.

He promptly found himself sitting on an elegant sofa facing two deeply attractive young women who shared a great many characteristics with the Senator. And like her, they did not seem to be intimidated in the least by Jedi Knights.

He looked from one to the other.

"Dormé," he said graciously. "How nice to see you again." He looked into the other face. "Sabé, isn't it? It has been a long time."

It was Sabé who spoke up first.

"You're just the person we want to talk to," she said.

"We were wondering why you are here," Dormé added quickly.

"I'm here to see my Padawan learner," Obi Wan said briefly, waiting to see where this was going.

"I hope," said Sabé bluntly, "that you are here to take him back where he belongs."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows.

"We are very worried about the Senator," said Dormé gently, always countering Sabé's abrasiveness. "We think he is a bad influence on her."

Now, this was interesting. Obi-Wan settled himself comfortably into the sofa. This conversation might prove to be productive indeed.

"Perhaps you had better tell me what you are mean."

There was a pause, and then Sabé said, bluntly, "are you aware that Anakin and the Senator are... intimately involved?"

I am now, thought the Jedi Knight.

"I know there is an attachment," he said, in his official capacity.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Sabé went on, but isn't that... forbidden... by your Order?"

"It is."

Dormé chimed in. "We don't want her to get hurt. If there is no hope for the relationship, we fear it will end badly for her."

Sabé was more direct. "We want to know what you are going to do about it."

"I think," Obi-Wan said delicately, "that we are on the same side."

"Hah!" Sabé burst out bitterly. "That's what he always says!"

"Oh?" Obi-Wan said, with deep interest. "Perhaps you had better tell me everything."

Before long Anakin's Jedi Master had begun form a picture of his Padawan's recent adventures. It was a complicated puzzle. The Handmaidens were remarkably frank, especially Sabé. And as skilled observers they added exceptional depth to the story.

Obi-Wan learned a good deal about the D'laians and their treachery. He formed a picture of their character and the effect their actions had on Senator Amidala. It was not his mission to protect her from the political arena.

He learned about the beginnings of Anakin's intimacy with the Senator. That didn't take long.

About the child who had become attached to him. Another attachment?

About the showdown match with the D'laian warrior. !!!!!!

About the Senator's refusal to attend. That showed very good judgment.

About Anakin's outburst and insight during the conversation with the Chancellor. What?

About the Senator's increasing dereliction of duty in order to spend time with his Padawan. Good judgment that is rapidly eroding.

The Handmaidens expressed their concern about the Senator's bouts of fatigue and strain. This was predictable.

But it was when Dormé described, with some emotion, the standoff on the bridge of the yacht and its final resolution that all the Jedi Master's powers of reason and senses went on highest alert. Oh, Anakin, no!

"Do you know where I could find him now?" he asked the Handmaidens.

They both shook their heads. "He... vanishes, Dormé said. "You only see him when he wants to be seen."

Well done, Anakin - I taught you that, Obi-Wan couldn't resist thinking.

"Rest assured that I am not here to give him my blessing," he said, as he stood to leave. "But you must allow me to deal with the situation in my own way." The Jedi Master looked from one to the other. "May I rely on your continued discretion?"

Dormé was shocked that he would even ask. "We will protect the Senator at all costs!" she exclaimed. "No one must know about this."

Sabé refused to be diplomatic. "If you don't set him straight," she threatened, "I will."

Obi-Wan bowed to them. "We are agreed, then. I thank you for your candor."

And with that he left as quickly as courtesy would allow.

Where would the boy go all day to make himself scarce? Obi-Wan wondered. Once he asked himself the question from Anakin's perspective the answer came promptly, and once again the Jedi Master found himself heading toward Theed's main hangar building.

* * * * *

"Is that him?"

"He's a Jedi, isn't he? There is only the one."

"He doesn't look like much."

"It's not them. It's their sorcery."

"What's he up to, do you reckon?"

"He's always hanging around that Senator. A bodyguard or something."

"Well, he looks like he's looking for something. Or someone."

"Just keep him in sight."

"Just stay out of his sight, more like."

"When are the others getting here?"

"Tomorrow."

"About time. I hate this place."

* * * * *

Obi-Wan had no sooner entered the hangar building than he realized that he had been right.

Anakin. He felt his presence. Deep down he had known where the boy would go. Well, why was it surprising? If he wasn't in bed, Obi-Wan thought somewhat uncharitably, it made perfect sense that he would be hanging around the air ships. Obi-Wan quickly locked down his shielding. He wasn't ready to reveal his presence yet.

Then he sighed inwardly. The boy probably wouldn't notice him one way or the other.

Before long Obi-Wan spotted his Padawan in a small group of people near one of the new fighters. Captain Typho was with him. At one point the Security Chief clapped the boy on the back, and several people laughed and reached out to shake Anakin's hand.

Cloaking himself in the Force so that he would appear almost invisible to the casual untrained observer Obi-Wan skirted the edges of the hangar and took up a position in an alcove where he could observe the hangar floor but was hidden from view.

He didn't have long to wait. Before long someone was handing Anakin a helmet. He was clearly being allowed to take that fighter out for a test flight. It certainly hadn't taken him long to develop a friendly relationship with these people. Who knew how comfortably he would settle in here if events were allowed to continue on their present course?

By the time Anakin took off in the fighter Obi-Wan Kenobi had made up his mind how to proceed. When a straight line to one's goal is not possible, he concluded, it must be approached at a tangent. Anakin was not the next person he would talk to.

He slipped back around to the main entrance of the Hangar, reduced his shielding and walked in as though he had just arrived. Pretending to look around at the equipment he managed to circle into full view of Senator Amidala's Security Chief.

"Master Kenobi!" Typho was genuinely surprised to see him. "This is unexpected."

"Captain Typho!" Obi-Wan responded pleasantly. "It seems that half the Galaxy has found its way into this sector." He looked around. "And onto Naboo..."

"What are you doing here? I wasn't informed of your arrival." Typho was genuinely puzzled.

"I was on the Fleet with Master Andros," Obi-Wan said, truthfully enough, "and then since I was nearby I decided to drop by and see how my Padawan's mission concluded. I heard there was a bit of trouble."

Checking up on him, no doubt, Typho thought. "You could say that."

The Jedi Knight looked around the hangar, and then asked innocently, "Is he around anywhere?"

"You just missed him. He's taking a test run in one of the new fighters."

"Oh, well done," Obi-Wan said. "He'll be enjoying that. He's an excellent pilot, you know."

Typho grinned. "We wouldn't have let him if he hadn't been the kid that blew up the Federation battleship ten years ago. He's famous among the pilots."

Grand. Thought Obi-Wan. Fame. Just what he needs.

The Jedi Master turned the full beam of his amiable attention onto the Captain. "I'll see him later, then. But I would like to hear the story of his most recent mission." He shrugged. "I'm going to have to write an evaluation anyway. You know - procedure."

The Captain nodded sympathetically. His whole life revolved around procedure.

"I could fill you in," he offered. "I'm almost finished here."

Obi-Wan smiled gratefully. "Any chance I can invite you to a midday meal?"

Will wonders never cease? the Captain thought. A Jedi Knight just offered to buy me lunch! Whatever the Jedi's true motivations were, the offer was too good to pass up. He'd be telling his grandchildren about this one.

"Sure," he said coolly. "I'll be with you shortly."

"Of course, Captain," said Obi-Wan. "I'll wait for you by the entrance."

A few hours at a local inn, a good lunch and a moderate quantity of excellent Antillean brandy later, Captain Typho decided that when the Jedi weren't being imperious or reading minds or dismembering people with their light sabers they could actually be pretty good company. Master Kenobi had a few good stories to tell. And he was a very good listener.

He had seemed quite interested in learning about the dressing-down the Senator gave his Padawan after the meeting in the conference room. But Typho thought the story the Jedi Knight had enjoyed most was the one about Skywalker's swordfight with Wolan. They had a good laugh about how much money Typho had won. Typho had also told him what he could about the confrontation on the bridge, but he couldn't fill in all the details since he had not been an eyewitness.

The talk turned to politics and security matters.

"Tell me, Captain," the Jedi Knight finally said. "Do you know a reason why someone would have been following me all day?"

The Captain looked at the Jedi speculatively. "How do you mean?"

"Two men have been following me since I left my lodgings. Yet I have just arrived and my presence was not announced. I wondered whether you would know why."

Typho didn't.

"I just wondered," Obi-Wan said casually, "whether they are connected to the D'laian presence on Naboo."

Typho stared at him, then recovered and decided that with a Jedi, honesty was the best policy. "I wasn't aware that there are D'laian spies here. I would have been informed.

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan agreed. "Still, I gather that there are several D'laians lurking about." He smiled. "They really dislike it here on Naboo. Hiding is not in their nature."

Typho was silent.

"I simply wondered," Obi-Wan said, "why two of them happen to be following me. I ask myself whether it has anything to do with my Padawan."

Typho thought about it. "He did make a lot of enemies on the Yacht," he finally conceded.

Nice job, Anakin, thought Obi-Wan wryly.

"Do you want any help with them?" Typho asked.

"Thank you, no," Obi-Wan said politely. "I would like to learn what they want." There was no way he could explain to the Security Captain that his pursuers were marked by the Sith impression. It made sense to him that they might believe they were following Anakin.

So, my Padawan, he thought. Your enemies become my enemies.

By the time the Captain had staggered off into the late afternoon to finish up his paperwork and figure out what to do about the D'laian spies, a clear-headed Obi-Wan had decided with whom he would have his next conversation. Again, it would not be Anakin. He directed his steps into the sunset and toward the Palace.

Chapter 15. Surprises

Dormé slipped into Padmé's awareness with a look on her face that made the Senator completely forget the documents in front of her.

"What's wrong?"

"Someone is here to see you." Dormé hesitated. "It's Obi-Wan Kenobi. He just showed up."

"He is here? Now?" Padmé's heart missed a beat. It was early evening. She was expecting Anakin to turn up any minute after having not seen him all day.

There could only be one reason why the Jedi Master was here. Padmé began to feel a kind of fear that no enemy could have inspired. For a moment the work on her desk blurred.

I thought we would have more time. This is too soon. I need more time.

Fool. She knew this would happen.

"Show him in," she said, with a little break in her voice.

It's for the best, My Lady, Dormé thought. She squeezed her mistress' shoulder gently, as though she could pass along some reassurance with her touch, and went through to the sitting room.

Padmé stood up reluctantly and followed her.

"Master Kenobi," she said graciously to the familiar figure. "This is an unexpected visit."

He smiled at her - warmly, she thought - and bowed.

"I am sorry to arrive unannounced and at this late hour, Senator Amidala," he said. "But I have come on a matter of considerable importance."

Oh, yes, agreed Padmé silently. It is very important. Aloud she continued with the formalities. Waving her hand toward a collection of sofas and chairs that were clustered at the far end of the spacious and lovely room she invited him to take a seat.

On the opposite wall, tall intricately designed windows framed the rich red and purple tapestry of another glorious Nubian sunset. Dormé moved around the room putting on lights to counter the gathering gloom of dusk. Then she disappeared.

The Jedi Knight went unerringly to the window seat where she and Anakin had sat together only the night before talking and... and... Padmé forced herself to push the hot swell of memory aside. What if this Jedi could read her thoughts the way that Anakin could?

In the dying light Obi-Wan's expression was shadowed and hard to see. With some reluctance Padmé followed him to the window and sat down next to him so that she could meet him face to face. They regarded one another in silence.

His eyes are kind, Padmé thought, suddenly and somewhat randomly wondering how old he was. Not too many years older than I, she found herself thinking, and yet he carries such an air of authority. And something else - a kind of serenity. Solidity. Permanence. He was so different from Anakin.

Senator or no, Padmé felt like a child that was about to be chastised for doing something wrong.

I suppose I deserve it, she thought. I knew this would happen. We both did. But Gods, I don't want to let Anakin go.

Padmé found that she was not up to making polite conversation and simply sat quietly, waiting for Obi-Wan to speak.

The Jedi Knight found the Senator changed. It wasn't only her outer appearance, although that was different, too. Instead of her usual elaborate garments she wore a simple, pale gown without ornamentation of any kind. Her hair was arranged with equal modesty. Somehow, he thought, that very simplicity made her being seem brighter. He noticed a different kind of Force presence - subtle, yet with a distinctive underlying character that was new.

Yes, he thought. Something has changed profoundly.

After an extended silence Obi-Wan realized that it was up to him to speak.

"I am here about my Padawan," he said.

Padmé's eyes did not leave his, but she did not say anything.

Obi-Wan went on carefully.

"Something has happened," he said. "Something that is very worrying."

Padmé suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable. How much did he know? How much could he know? Jedi powers often seemed uncanny to her.

She nodded for him to continue but still did not speak. She couldn't.

"I don't know how familiar you are with the relationship between Master and Padawan in the Jedi Order," he continued, "but it is an extremely close one." He tried to choose his words carefully. "A Jedi Master is both a teacher and a parent. For the whole of the Padawan's training we are almost inseparable. We live together. Eat together. Work, train and play together. We carry out missions together."

Obi-Wan struggled mightily to find the right way to explain the depth of the Master-Padawan relationship to an outsider. How could he make her understand?

"To take on a Padawan is the highest calling in the Order, because it is a sacred trust to guide and guard another being's life until they reach maturity and independence," he said carefully. "Any Master would lay down his own life for his Padawan without hesitation. During the time of the Master-Padawan bond, the Padawan's needs are paramount and the Master devotes all those years exclusively to meeting them."

He paused again before dropping his next words into the profound stillness between them.

"In return, the Padawan is expected to give the Master complete respect and unquestioning obedience. Without these, the training bond cannot function because it is based on trust."

Padmé swallowed.

The Jedi Knight's voice remained warm and even. "These commitments are made gladly, and with love." His gaze seemed to turn inward as images of his years with his Padawan broke free and began to dance in his memory. "You remember the circumstances under which Anakin and I entered into this bond, Senator Amidala."

Padmé nodded.

"Anakin has been by my side for ten years. He was always there for me, and I for him. Even when we disagreed. I can't tell you how many times he has saved my life. More than I would ever admit to in his presence."

Padmé found her voice again. She had been listening to the Knight's story with her whole being. She felt his warmth, his concern, and his need to explain. The conversation was not at all what she had expected.

"I imagine you have saved his many times as well."

Obi-Wan was grateful for her attempt to meet him part of the way. "I have tried to care for him and protect him and teach him everything he will need to know once he leaves me." He hesitated, and then went on again. He had to make her understand. "But there is more. There is an even deeper bond between Master and Padawan. You might call it a telepathic bond."

Padmé suddenly thought that she knew exactly what he meant.

"You can reach out to one another in your thoughts," she said. "You always know the other person is there."

Obi-Wan looked at her attentively. "Yes," he said. That's it exactly. "It's not an invasive connection - but it is a deep one."

"One that you would miss terribly if it were gone," Padmé said, understanding perfectly and beginning to dread what he was about to say next.

The Jedi Knight and the Senator from Naboo had one another's undivided attention. As they sat facing each other on the window seat the room around them seemed to disappear - the only thing that remained was the two of them and their conversation. Unnoticed, the sky outside the tall windows had darkened completely and covered itself with stars.

"Anakin has broken that connection with me," Obi-Wan said gently.

Padmé felt a deep stab of pain. She knew exactly what it would feel like if Anakin suddenly withdrew from her and disappeared. Oh, Anakin, no, she thought.

"I am so sorry, Master Kenobi," she whispered with such sincerity that he knew without a doubt that remarkably enough, she did understand. "I had absolutely no idea."

Obi-Wan was certain that was true. He was also rapidly becoming certain of a number of other things. That the attachment between her and his Padawan was not a casual one. That she was honest and good and suffering terribly. And that Anakin had a great deal to account for. More, probably, than either of them knew.

"I am not here to blame you for anything, Senator," Obi-Wan said in that same gentle voice. "In fact, I am deeply concerned about you."

"About me?" Padmé was surprised. "Why?"

"I know Anakin better than anyone, I think. I know his power. I know his capacity for passion. And I know how he feels about you." He looked directly into her eyes. "He worships you. He has since the day I first met him as a dusty, frightened little boy."

Padmé didn't know what to say. Her eyes filled with tears. Remembering. It was all so innocent then. How had their lives arrived at his point? "Master Kenobi..." she began, then stopped. "I don't know what to do."

Obi-Wan reached out and covered her hand with his.

"Of course you don't," he said, softly. "There are overwhelming forces at work here." There was so much more to explain to her. He hardly knew where to begin.

Abruptly his attention snapped to the hallway outside. A few moments later voices could be heard, along with something that sounded suspiciously like shrieking.

"Anakin," said Obi-Wan.

"Balé," said Padmé at the same time.

They were both right.

There was a knock on the door. Before Padmé could gather herself enough to respond it opened and a tall young Jedi stepped inside and gently dumped a brightly colored, wiggling and shrieking bundle onto the soft carpet.

"Oh," said Balé, excited when she saw Padmé's visitor. "Another Jedi! Can you make me fly, too?"

When Anakin looked up and saw his Master Obi-Wan knew from the look on his face that the broken bond had in fact been torn out by the root. Anakin had not had the slightest idea that he was here. Comprehending, Obi-Wan found himself marveling at the skill that was required to create a sense-block that effective and that specific.

In that first instant of recognition a stream of conflicting emotions played over Anakin's face for all to see. Then he visibly shut down and his face became an impenetrable mask, although his eyes never left his Master's.

Padmé had seen the transformation as clearly as Obi-Wan had, and it upset her deeply. She hurt for Obi-Wan. He didn't deserve that. She wanted to reach out to him, to try to make up for Anakin's cut. Taking both of the Jedi Master's hands in hers she said, firmly.

"Master Kenobi, please tell me that you can stay longer. I would very much like to continue our conversation."

Without taking his eyes off Anakin's now unexpressive ones, Obi-Wan thanked her and accepted her invitation. He had instantly decided to remain on Naboo as long as it took to reach his Padawan. He would deal with the Council later.

Anakin's face remained locked down. Unseeingly he bent down to pick up the clamoring child, who was beginning to be upset by the tension in the room.

"Anakin," Padmé said, with some desperation. At her call his eyes finally left his Master's and found hers instead. His transformation was immediate.

Anakin softened. He opened. The Force surged between him and Padmé like an electrical spark and surrounded them both until it became a single field that stretched across the room.

Balé sulked on Anakin's shoulder, knowing instinctively that she no longer had her playmate's attention.

Obi-Wan saw everything. And what he saw was much, much worse than he had expected.

"I have been looking for you, Anakin," he said. Obi-Wan found the cozy familial scene of Anakin with the woman and the child deeply unsettling and downright inappropriate. But that was not what worried him most.

Anakin's expression hardened again when he looked at his Master.

"If you will excuse me," Anakin said coldly, "Balé needs to go to bed." And he turned on his heel and walked out of the room with the child, never once looking back.

For the first time in a very long time, the Jedi Master didn't know what to do.

Chapter 16. Challenges

"You were very rude to him, you know," Padmé said mildly after Obi-Wan had left. Anakin had stayed behind, of course. It would take more than a disapproving Master to keep him from the evenings and nights with Padmé that he had quickly come to think of as his right.

She was walking back and forth between a wardrobe and a table, sorting gifts for her family brought back from Coruscant. Anakin lounged on the bed, never taking his eyes off her.

"He took me by surprise," was all he was willing to say.

Padmé stopped momentarily and gave him an ironic look. "You are a Jedi and he is your Master. It must have taken some doing to be that surprised."

"I've worked very hard at shutting him out," Anakin finally conceded, a bit sulkily. Then he brightened. "I succeeded, too."

Padmé shook her head. "And that's something you're proud of?"

Anakin shrugged. "I wanted some privacy." He continued to stalk her with his gaze as she moved around the room, holding up objects like scarves and carved boxes for inspection, and then placing them on the table.

Padmé glanced up, enjoying his attention. She felt sorry for Obi-Wan but being at close quarters with Anakin always had the effect of obliterating anything else. Then she remembered the gift for her father in the bottom drawer. As soon as she disappeared from view to retrieve it Anakin flung himself to the bottom of the bed so that he could still see her. She looked up, startled, to find his eyes directly in front of hers.

"What are you doing?"

"Memorizing you."

Padmé stopped what she was doing and stared back from her position on her knees in front of the open drawer. It was the first indication Anakin had given that he might not be there by her side forever. Until now he had steadfastly refused to contemplate anything but the immediate present.

He was so good at denial that sometimes Padmé was able to pretend along with him. It made for some blissful moments.

"Memorizing me... so you have memories to take with you when you go?" She forgot about the open drawer and the box in her hands that contained a deftly carved pipe for her father.

"I didn't say I was going."

"But you are thinking about it."

He loomed closer and just managed to kiss her nose.

"Obi-Wan will call me to account sooner or later."

He did not refer to him as Master Obi-Wan.

"It was never a matter of whether you would return," Padmé said, looking down at the box in her hands without seeing it. "But of when."

"Not to me," Anakin said in a tone whose resonance made her look up. "I am completely serious when I say that you are the most important thing my life."

Padmé got up off her knees and sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the box.

"And I meant it when I said that I don't want to be the cause of a rift between you and the Jedi Order." She frowned. "Although it may have gone too far already. I honestly don't understand why Obi-Wan is being so patient with you. With us. I would have expected him to haul you unceremoniously back to Coruscant and lock you up for the next five years."

"He couldn't if he tried," Anakin said, angling toward a particularly sensitive spot on her throat. "And he knows it."

Padmé pulled back and warded him off with the box.

"Stop it," she said. "This is serious. Aren't you obligated to do exactly as he says?"

"Technically, yes," Anakin said, lounging back on one elbow after being thwarted. "But I have to be willing. The only way he can make me do anything at this point is by persuasion."

"So that is why he is here. To persuade you."

Anakin leaned back on the bed and started tossing a small pillow into the air. "I've put him in a difficult position. He knows that if he demands that I return and I refuse, he has a potential renegade Jedi on his hands. Very dangerous."

"Anakin!" Padmé was genuinely shocked. "You wouldn't do that!"

Anakin kept tossing and catching the pillow. "The only way they can keep control over me is to keep me close."

Padmé stared at him in disbelief. "You sound so... cold... about this! I thought you wanted to become the greatest Jedi ever."

He abruptly put aside the pillow and sat up, his posture unconsciously adjusting to a change in the level of the conversation.

"Of course I want to be a Jedi," he said, looking into her eyes with a kind of lightsaber intensity. "I am a Jedi. But not on their terms. I will no longer allow the Jedi Order to keep me from the people I love. Not again. Not ever."

"Anakin, are you threatening to leave the Order?"

Again, Anakin would not confront the question directly. "Let's see how much it's worth to them to keep me on. How important their Chosen One is to them." There was a certain bitterness in his tone.

Padmé was deeply troubled. "So... you're going to challenge them to make an exception in your case. You're squaring off against the Jedi Order by yourself... because of me." Her stomach was starting to turn over unpleasantly. "I can't possibly support that. I can't live with myself if I'm the cause of that! Anakin, you have to stop this."

"Why?" he asked softly. "Why must I not challenge the Order?" He looked down at his right arm and flexed the wrist. "I wouldn't be any good to them anyway. I would be maimed without you."

"Wounds heal," said Padmé, stunned by the strength of his simple declaration. She also looked down at the arm and wondered why she was arguing the other side.

"They never heal completely. And they leave you changed."

Padmé felt a chill. She crept closer and leaned against his back as he sat on the end of the bed, drawing comfort from his physical presence and warmth.

"What has changed, Anakin?"

Trust. The word did not need to be spoken out loud.

"My mother always told me to be brave and to follow my heart. She encouraged me to find my own path. She believed in it so much that she willingly let me go so I could follow Master Jinn and become a Jedi."

"I remember."

"I was no older than Balé - can you imagine that? I look at her now and I can't believe it. And unlike Balé's parents, my mother was alive. But they never let me see her or talk to her again."

"I know." Padmé deeply sympathized with Anakin on that one. She couldn't imagine being forcibly separated from her family.

"I was a child and I accepted it. I was powerless to do anything about it." He seemed to be looking into the far distance. "If I hadn't disobeyed my mandate I would never have seen her before she died."

Padmé wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"If I had disobeyed sooner I might have saved her."

"You don't know that," Padmé whispered.

Anakin went on as though he hadn't heard. "Now they are going to try to do it again. But I'm not a child any more. And I don't accept the idea that the Jedi are the only ones who know the right path."

"The Jedi are known for their wisdom," Padmé said softly. "What makes you think you know better than they do?"

"They're the ones who always tell me to trust my feelings." Anakin turned around suddenly and captured her, heading straight for that spot on her throat again. "My feelings say that I want you."

"I'm sure that's not what they meant!" Padmé gasped, escaping him long enough to retrieve the box and place it on the table with the other gifts. Venturing closer again, she said, "I don't want to be the excuse for your estrangement from Obi-Wan or from the Order."

"I think it would have come to this eventually with you or without you. Believe me, it's been going on for a long time." Anakin's arms encircled her waist and drew her to him. "I just didn't realize until I saw Obi-Wan sitting there glaring at me how unwilling I am to go back to the way things were."

"Stay away from the Senator, my very young Padawan," he said in his best Obi-Wan voice. "Attachment is forbidden." Padmé, who just a short time ago would have disapproved of his disrespectful behavior, giggled in spite of herself.

Before long Anakin had insinuated his way back to his original destination at her throat, teasing out a very satisfying response. Throughout the entire conversation he had never once lost sight of his original objective.

"What are you going to do?" she asked apprehensively once she had collected herself a bit.

"I'm going to make Obi-Wan work very, very hard," he said with deep satisfaction. "If he wants me, he'll have to come and get me."

"So," Padmé said, evading him so that she could continue the conversation just a little longer, "You're willing to speak with him?"

"If I have to." He was very focused on other things.

"Good," she said, slithering backwards to gain just enough time to finish what she was going to say. "Because I have invited him to lunch. Here. Tomorrow. With us."

"Fine," he mumbled, undeterred.

Padmé was deeply uneasy about the rebellious path Anakin was outlining, as well as with her own role in it. She had decided after her conversation with Obi-Wan and after observing Anakin's reaction to him that Master and Padawan needed to talk to one another. As much as she wanted Anakin in her life, she did not believe that it was in anyone's interests to allow the rift between him and Obi-Wan to become permanent.

But for the moment unease was rapidly becoming overpowered by other, more immediate feelings. Anakin was artfully navigating his way across her body in a way that was making any kind of rational thought impossible.

"Anakin," she whispered, and when he did not respond she tried again. Anakin.

He stopped and looked up.

"Anakin, what if this is the last time? What if we never have time together again?"

"It isn't," he said firmly. "It won't be. I won't let it be."

"I don't know how to let you go," she said, holding on to him as though he might disappear any minute. "I know I have to, but I don't know how."

"Don't worry," he said to her softly. "There is nothing they can do to keep us apart."

"Of course there is," she protested. "Your Master is here to bring you back..."

"Shhhh." Anakin refused to allow any more worries. "There is no Obi-Wan. There is nothing outside of us. In the whole universe there are only the two of us..."

Padmé decided to believe him. She needed to. Together they were learning to weave a complex and intimate world of two in which nothing else in the Universe mattered. I'll just pretend that everything is going to be all right, Padmé thought to herself as she desperately lost herself in that magical and private realm where the boundaries set by others did not exist. Just for now.

I will not leave you, Anakin reassured her, over and over again.

-->go to chapters 17-end

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