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

FAN FICTION : ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

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The Anakin Skywalker Diaries
Part One: The Mission

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Disclaimer: All characters belong to the Great God in Flannel, unless I actually get creative enough to throw an original in somewhere, in which case I'll let you know; please don't sue--I'm a teacher. Teacher=no money.

Note: This is a plot-what-plot, point-of-view humor fic about Anakin and Obi-Wan on a mission, just before Episode II. No AOTC or The Approaching Storm spoilers included, because I'm not really following the plotline of either.

Acknowledgements: Thanks to DarthLothi, my beta reader, and to my wonderful husband, who patiently puts up with my Star Wars fanaticism, and inspired me with, "It's about time you started writing your own fanfics instead of reading other people's all the time."

This is my first attempt at fan fiction, so please be nice. Flames make me turn to the darkside.

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Beep beep beep beep

Damn. What time is it, anyway?

0630. Too damn early for any civilized person to be out of the bed, much less a Jedi Padawan. How the hell are we supposed to be in tune with the Unifying Force if we're too tired to even remember where the 'fresher is?

"Anakin!"

That would be my Master. He's in tune with the Unifying Force at this ungodly hour. Way too in tune with it, as a matter of fact. Don't talk to him at all after 2000 at night, though. He's usually in his sleep pants by then--if he's awake enough to remember what sleep pants look like. Whenever I want to get away with stuff, that's the best time.

"Anakin, get up! We're supposed to meet with the Council in half an hour to be briefed for our next mission!"

Ahh...the Council. Just where I want to be at 0700 in the morning--listening to Master "Talk Backwards, I Do" Yoda and Mace "Bowling Ball Head" Windu. Once I offered to shine the top of Master Windu's head for him. I got five extra hours of meditation for that one. It was worth it though.

The Council Chambers, an hour later.

New commandment for the Jedi Code: Do not attempt to drive or operate heavy machinery while listening to Master Windu or Master Mundi talk.

I've barely heard a word either of them have said since five minutes after our arrival. I've been too busy trying to stifle yawns. Especially since I only had time to down one cup of caf before Master Obi-Wan dragged me out the door by my braid.

I bit down on my tongue, and then the inside of my cheek, to stifle another yawn. My mouth is going to be a bloody mess by the time this is over.

I had only picked up bits and pieces of what our mission was supposed to be...something about Alderaan, a meeting of five planetary leaders, and said leaders wanting Jedi to observe.

Observation. Great. I hope the caf is free-flowing on Alderaan.

"Padawan Skywalker!" Master Yoda rapped the floor with his gimer stick.

"Ummm...sir?" I said, blinking rapidly, trying to avoid showing how sleepy I was.

"Listening, you were not!"

Dammit, you old troll, it's early. And I'm not 900 years old. I don't fall asleep during the Coruscant Evening News.

"Heard that, I did!" He rapped the floor with his stick again.

Sithspit, I'm in trouble now. How do I get out of this one?

"Sorry, Master Yoda, sir. I just really need another cup of caf."

A couple of the Council Members snickered; the ones that actually have a sense of humor, that is. Which would not include Master Windu, Master Mundi, nor my own Master.

"Wrong answer, Padawan," I heard Obi-Wan say under his breath, and I could already taste the soap in my mouth.

"Dismissed, you are," Master Yoda said.

"And go get Padawan Skywalker another cup of caf," Master Windu added, "and you might want to review the details of your mission with him again afterwards."

"...and next time, Padawan, be sure that your brain is in gear before engaging your mouth," my Master finally finished.

Arrggh. It's bad enough that I get stuck scrubbing his toilet and Master Yoda's with a toothbrush, but does he have to stand over me and lecture me while I'm doing it?

I would have preferred the soap, but I guess Obi-Wan knows I've sampled every brand of soap in the Coruscant Drug Store.

I think I've done pretty well controlling my temper today. I've listened to him for two hours, while scrubbing both toilets (and try being 6'4" and scrubbing Master Yoda's john, which is only about three inches off the ground, with a toothbrush), and I've managed to resist the urge to grab him by the neck, bring him down to my level, and shove his head in the john for a good Jedi Master-sized swirlie.

At the end of one lecture on the reason my caf is not important when we are discussing the beginning of an important mission, I had to utilise Jedi breathing techniques to avoid yanking him by his beard. Of course the lecture was lacking a list of reasons why observing some planetary dignitaries drone on for hours is important. Why should a lecture include useful information?

On top of that, I think I must be allergic to these cleansers he's having me use. I feel like I've got shards of glass in my throat. If this gets any worse, at least my Master won't have to worry about my talking back to him. I won't be able to talk at all.

"Anakin, did you even hear me when I told you which planetary leaders we're going to be observing?"

"Huh?" I asked, as I gave the edge of the toilet seat one final scrub, threw the toothbrush in the trash can, and grabbed a wet rag to wash off the last of the cleanser. "Master, when's the last time you cleaned your 'fresher?"

"I'm a Jedi Knight. I don't clean 'freshers. That's why we have Padawans, and that's why I'm lucky I have an especially sharp-tongued apprentice who often needs punishment."

He's smiling. I will remain calm. I will remain calm. I will not shove his head in the commode and flush. I will not shove his head in the commode and flush.

"Anyway," Obi-Wan continued, "the five dignitaries are Bail Organa of Alderaan, Oks Moe from Malastare, Yrros Atmos from Concord Dawn, Sivvo Vela from Sullust...and Padmé Naberrie of Naboo."

I stopped wiping down the toilet and looked up. "Padmé's going to be there? And they're still sending us?"

"Anakin, I'm not sure the Council is aware of your...er...friendship with the Nubian Senator. And it's probably best that they don't find out. I'm comfortable with it as long as it doesn't distract from your training, but they never would be."

No kidding. One of many rules they need to change. Master Windu needs to get laid--and badly.

"Besides," Obi-Wan added. "all five senators had a chance to request specific Jedi for this mission. None of them had any preferences...except Senator Naberrie."

I couldn't help smiling at that one. I sent a telepathic message to Padmé: I'm coming, babe. She isn't really Force-sensitive, but I know she heard me anyway. I felt my pants get tighter.

"So why don't you get packing," Obi-Wan said, patting me on the back.

I got up and stretched my legs, cramped from kneeling in front of my master's nasty excuse for a toilet for over an hour, and headed to my room.

Of course things are looking up. This looks like an easy mission, and I get to see my girl.

Now if I could just get rid of this sore throat.

Chubba. Poodoo. Medria.

The next morning I was running through a long list of Huttese curses after my alarm went off, again too early for anyone to have to face civilization--or life on Coruscant, if that can be called civilization.

My sore throat was pretty much gone--only to be replaced by the mother of all head colds.

I lay in bed for ten minutes after the alarm went off, thinking about how much I missed being able to breathe.

"Anakin!"

And it's morning as usual at the Kenobi-Skywalker residence.

I got up, shivering as my bare feet hit the floor--I think carpeting in the Temple is against the Jedi Code, since it would make life more comfortable--and honked into a tissue.

"Anakin!" I heard my name again, and then Obi-Wan was in the doorway.

"Has one of those older model ships landed outside? I thought I heard a foghorn."

I wondered how many toilets I'd have to clean if I told him to shut the hell up.

More than I felt like cleaning at the moment, probably, so I just glared at him. "Dot fuddy," I said. "Add don't remind me that I can't take medicine on the flight, either. I know." I sneezed and grabbed more tissue.

He shook his head. "I know. I'm sorry, Anakin. I'll get some herb tea out of the cabinet. Get your bag. We're supposed to be at Docking Bay 301 in fifteen minutes."

And so we left the Temple for the three-day flight to Alderaan. Of course between a lack of caf in my system and a head full of crap, I wasn't looking where I was going until I felt something bump against my knees.

"Look where you are going, you should, Padawan Skywalker."

Grow taller than ten inches, you should, Master Yoda.

At least this time I kept my shields up. I didn't feel like being rapped in the knees with his gimer stick. Or cleaning anymore toilets. Or anything else.

Of course if I had to have my mouth washed out with soap this time, at least I wouldn't be able to taste it.

We were silent all the way to the ship. Walk, walk, sniffle, sniffle, walk, sniffle.

"You're getting almost as clumsy as Jar-Jar," Obi-Wan said as we were climbing the ramp onto the ship.

You're lucky my stopped-up sinuses are blocking my brain from making sharp retorts, I said through our bond, getting inside the ship, collapsing into a chair--and into a sneezing fit.

Your brain wasn't blocked from making that one, Obi-Wan said. But he was smiling.

He handed me several tissues. "Blow your nose, Anakin," he said.

I did, and woke up the rest of Coruscant--and probably every planet within a distance of several light-years.

Obi-Wan headed for the cockpit and told the pilot to take off.

Several hours later I was still sitting there. I didn't even bother un-strapping myself after we went into hyperspace.

Obi-Wan had come through long enough to bring me a cup of tea and turn on the holovid player.

The show was good at first--something about some creature of Master Yoda's species getting his gruel spiked with a growth hormone and ending up ten standard feet tall, then getting in a light saber duel with some other creature that looked like a Wookie on Rogaine. Good for a few laughs in the middle of all the sneezing. However, that show was over, and all that was left was some ridiculous chick flick--"As Coruscant Turns". Some married human woman, married to someone of Yarael Poof's species, fell in love with a married man of Ki-Adi Mundi's species--that man's sister was the woman's best friend, who of course turns out to be a lesbian and starts hitting on her.

And of course I can't find the remote control.

And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. A Jedi Padawan, the dumbest show ever written, an empty cup of tea, and a full box of tissues.

I wonder how many trees died on Dagobah in order for me to have this cold.

I shivered and buried myself deeper into my robe. Of course the Republic Senate is too cheap to provide heat for Jedi space cruisers. It's too bad they don't know that this cruiser carries the boyfriend of one Senator.

Oh, hell. I almost think I'd rather freeze my ass off than risking having the High Council of Twelve Who Desperately Need to Get Laid finding out about Padmé and me.

I shivered again. Hey, Obi-Wan, where are you? I called out through our bond.

I'm in the back of the ship reading a data pad regarding the meeting we're going to be observing, Padawan, he said. Why, what do you need?

I'm freezing, I replied.

I'll be right there.

Obi-Wan showed up as I was blowing my nose again and adding another tissue to the pile on the floor.

He was carrying a blanket and looked at the pile with disdain. "Planning to start a fire, Padawan?"

"Why are you messing with me when you know I don't feel good enough to mess back?" I asked, sniffling.

He smiled. "It's the only time I'll ever win when playing a battle of wits with you." He brought me the blanket, and laid the back of his hand on my forehead. "You're running a fever, Anakin," he said. "You need to go lie down."

Somehow his telling me that just made me feel sicker. "Um-hmm," I mumbled.

He loosened my seatbelt and helped me up. "Come on," he said.

He led me to a sleep couch. I sank into the covers, and he threw the blanket over me.

"Get some sleep, " he said, moving his hand over my face, and I felt the Force-enhanced sleep suggestion he sent me.

My first two thoughts when I woke up were, "I wonder what time it is," and "Damn, it's still cold in here."

I was drenched with sweat--the fever must have broken--but I still shivered and wrapped the blanket around me like a cocoon.

I called out to Obi-Wan through our bond, and he was in the room almost immediately. He sat on the sleep couch and ruffled my damp hair. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"A little better," I said. I started to sit up and immediately sneezed. Obi-Wan passed me the box of tissues from the dresser. I grabbed a handful and blew my nose.

"You're not as warm as you were earlier--that's good," he said, laying the back of his hand on my forehead.

"I'm freezing," I said. I knew I was whining but I didn't care.

"I know. The pilot is a Hoth native and doesn't think it's that cold in here. The only reason he turned any heat on at all is because I told him you were sick."

Sithspawn. I'll take care of him later. I know I've got an extra whoopee cushion around here somewhere. A Force-enhanced whoopee cushion for Force-enhanced farts. I used one on Master Eeth Koth one time, and I think the noise awakened dead podracers on Tatooine. I was saving the cushions just in case the senatorial presentations needed to be livened up.

"You mean Hoth is inhabited? With humans? I thought they had all been eaten by snow monsters by now."

Obi-Wan laughed. "There are a few humans still there," he said, "not many though.

"You've been asleep for eighteen hours. Do you want some soup or something?"

I nodded and threw the blankets off, wincing as my feet hit the cold floor. "I need a shower," I mumbled. "I sweated like a bantha in my sleep, and I wasn't even dreaming about Padmé."

That got another laugh out of my master. "That's because your fever broke. That's a good thing. You were starting to worry me. I didn't want you to end up with pneumonia on Alderaan. No Jedi Healers there," he said, then waved a hand towards the 'fresher. "Go take a shower, Ani. I'll fix your soup."

"How long until we land?" I asked.

"About twelve hours. The pilot has gone to sleep--he's supposed to wake up in six."

Ah-huh. Well, Mr. Hoth native, it's payback time. Thou shalt not mess with the Chosen One with a head cold.

As soon as Obi-Wan left the room, I went into my pack and got out one of the whoopee cushions.

Padmé and I were walking along a beach in Alderaan, hand in hand. We were up to our ankles in warm water, the ocean lapping at our bare feet. I was gazing into her beautiful brown eyes. She leaned into for a kiss. I pulled her closer to me and closed my eyes, using the Force to touch her in a way that my hands could not, to make her completely ready for me. Then...

BWWAARRPP!

What in the name of Master Yoda was that?

My eyes flew open, and I sat straight up. I immediately felt the cold air hit me; I looked around and saw the plain furnishings, my cloak strewn over a nearby chair, and used tissues and my slippers on the floor, and remembered.

It was just a dream. We weren't in Alderaan yet. And that noise--the one that woke me up, interrupted mine and Padmé's kiss, and sounded like a family of Hutts would sound after eating beans for dinner--was my own Force-enhanced whoopee cushion.

I had forgotten how loud they were. And to think my first whoopee-cushion prank was inspired by one of Obi-Wan's lessons: an hour of babysitting forty ten-year-old Creche initiates, one of whom I fondly nicknamed "Fart-boy" because he had mastered the art of passing gas before he won his first lightsaber duel.

I don't think ten Fart-boys could have competed with this whoopee cushion.

I had eaten my soup and gone back to sleep afterwards, at Obi-Wan's insistence ("I'd like to see you get better by the time we land, Padawan," he had said), when the sound of my own prank had ruined my wonderful dream.

Then a much more shocking noise.

A vile string of Huttese curses--coming from Obi-Wan.

I went through what was becoming my normal routine the past few days: getting out of bed and stepping on the ice cubes--I mean the floor; sneezing; grabbing my robe with one hand and several tissues with the other.

I went to the door and saw Obi-Wan standing there, lightsaber ignited, hair standing on end, looking as if he were expecting a Sith Master to walk through the door any second; and the pilot, who looked like he had already seen the Sith Master.

"Excuse me," I said, sniffling and wiping my nose, "I'm looking for my Master. He's a redhead with a beard, about 32 going on 60. You know, the guy who taught me that swearing leads to the Darkside, and has made me a soap connoisseur due to my own foul mouth?"

He glared at me and disengaged his saber. "You're a bad influence on me, Padawan," he said. "I suppose you know exactly what that noise was."

By this time the pilot was glaring even harder. Good thing he doesn't have the Force--I think he could have shrunk me down to Master Yoda's size with that look.

He pulled my whoopee cushion out from behind his back and handed it to Obi-Wan. "Would your apprentice have use for one of these, Master Jedi?" he asked.

Obi-Wan glared at me again, then turned back to the pilot and nodded. "Yes, he's been known to use those before," he said. I couldn't help but grin, and the pilot gave me another murderous look. "However," Obi-Wan continued, "he may not have used it on you if you had turned the heat up. He loves to play pranks on people, but his creativity is usually down when he's not feeling well; however, the need for vengeance kicks it right back up."

I sneezed again into the tissues I was holding. Perfect timing.

The pilot turned to me. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't realize you were that sick."

I said nothing, just let out another perfectly-timed sneeze and blew my nose.

"You must not have been paying attention," Obi-Wan muttered. "Plus, he's a Tatooine native and finds space too cold, anyway."

I've never known Obi-Wan to fuss like that at anyone other than--well--me.

"Again, I'm sorry," the pilot said. He was actually turning red now.

I nodded and turned to go back to my room. On the way out, I heard the pilot saying, "Where does he get these things, by the way? I'd like to try this on my boss."

Obi-Wan came in my room a few minutes later. "We're supposed to come out of hyperspace in about three hours," he said, "are you ready?"

"Is Padmé meeting us when we land?" I asked.

"She's supposed to," he said.

"Then I'm ready."

"Good," he said. "Listen, Anakin, that prank wasn't necessary and you know that. It also wasn't very mature, or Jedi-like."

"Yeah, whatever. He shouldn't have tried to freeze me. It'll be his fault if I end up with pneumonia." I sniffled.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, sighing, "I'm trying to be reasonable with you. I'm also trying to cut you some slack since you're sick. But you're going to have to work with me here."

I sat on the bed, propped the pillows up, and pulled the blankets over my feet. "Alright," I said, "I shouldn't have done it. It was funny as hell, but I shouldn't have done it."

"Funny to you, maybe," he said, "you practically gave me a stroke. I thought we were being blown up."

"Alright, alright." My turn to sigh, and sniffle again. "I'm sorry, Master. The joke wasn't meant for you."

He smiled. "It's alright, Padawan," he said. "But you won't do it again. Are there any more of those whoopee cushions?"

Damn. I'm just going to have to find some other way to...er...entertain the Senators. Especially Bail Organa--I didn't like him the last time I met him. Pompous windbag.

"Three more, in my pack," I said, sliding under the covers and putting the pillows down.

He went into the pack, found all three immediately, and took them with him.

"Don't come looking for these, Padawan," he said, "you won't find them."

Sigh. Sniffle.

He came over to the sleep couch and dropped a kiss on my head. "Just rest right now, Anakin," he said. "I'll come get you when we're coming out of hyperspace."

Three hours later we were walking down the ramp of the ship, after a friendly goodbye to our snow-monster pilot.

"How are you feeling?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I'm OK," I said, "Instead of sniffling every second, I'm sniffling every five seconds."

He laughed and patted me on the back. "Well, at least since we're on ground and it won't mess up your equilibrium, you can take some decongestant if you want to," he said. "By the way, look down there. There's a sight that will improve your health." He indicated the hangar below.

Padmé. And in a black satin gown that clung to every curve of her body.

Oh, Force, how long has it been?

I sent my best charming grin her way, and she smiled back. I had to use Force-calming techniques to avoid running to her and smothering her with kisses.

Her handmaidens Sabé and Rabé and her bodyguard, Captain Typho, stood behind her. They stayed back as she approached us.

She extended a hand to Obi-Wan--"Good of you to come, Master Kenobi," she said--then turned to me and wrapped me in a hug. "You, too, Ani," she said, her voice muffled against my tunic, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, babe," I said. "Thanks for requesting that we come."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said. She pulled back some and touched her hand to my cheek. "Are you alright?" she asked.

I know I must have been a sight to look at--swollen eyes, flushed cheeks, red nose.

"I am now," I said. "I've just got a cold, that's all. No big deal." I sniffled and fumbled in the pocket of my cloak for a tissue.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, and then lowered her voice, "but I'll bet I know a way to fix you up better than Force-enhanced healing techniques."

I grinned and pecked her on the lips. "That's my girl," I said.

She grabbed my hand and led me towards the hangar. "Come on," she said, "Prince Organa sent his personal shuttle to meet you two. The Alderaani Royal Palace has a very large guest wing."

Good. At least I can be a good guest and still not have to see a lot of His Royal Pompousness.

We walked towards the shuttle, followed by Obi-Wan, then by Padmé's entourage.

*****

Half an hour later we were in the Royal Palace of Alderaan, being shown to our rooms.

The Palace guest quarters chambers had everything the Temple didn't have in the way of comforts--a canopy bed, rich carpet on the floor, glass-paned doors opening to a huge balcony.

"This is really too much for us," Obi-Wan said.

Dammit, Master, I really don't want to sleep in the basement with Prince Organa's hunting dogs, so please don't say anything.

He looked at me. Forgot to raise my shields. Sithspit.

The woman showing us around saved me though. "Oh, Prince Organa insists, Jedi Kenobi," she said. "His important guests must have the best accommodations, especially Jedi."

"Well," Obi-Wan said, "we must remember to thank the Prince for his kindness."

Yeah, maybe I really should forget about the idea of putting itching powder in his shaving cream. We'll see how the rest of the trip goes.

"Now, Jedi Kenobi, if you'll follow me, your quarters are this way, and they're identical to Padawan Skywalker's."

"As you wish. Anakin, I'll meet with you in an hour? We need to go over the details of this meeting we have to observe tomorrow."

Note to self: check on caf supply. And come up with some creative form of entertainment to replace the whoopee cushions.

"Yes, Master."

"Senator?" Captain Typho asked.

"You're dismissed momentarily, Captain. Jedi Skywalker and I have some catching up to do."

"Yes, Madam," the Captain said. Sabé winked at me.

Then they were gone.

I shut the bedroom door behind me and pulled Padmé into an embrace, pressing my mouth against hers.

"Some catching up to do, huh?" I said a few minutes later.

"Oh, Ani, I've missed you," she said. She kissed me again, and I lowered her onto the bed.

It didn't take me long to remove the black satin from her shoulders and hips and rain kisses all over her body. And just as quickly she removed my tunic and slid her small hands into my pants.

It had been a month since we made love. I knew I missed her, but I had no idea how much.

Almost too quickly it was over and we lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow, both of us sweating, me sniffling and thanking the Force that this time we weren't interrupted by a group of farting Hutts.

"How was it, angel?" I asked.

"Wonderful as always, handsome Jedi," she said.

I grinned and held her closer. "Any chance of a repeat performance later tonight?"

She hoisted herself on one elbow and gave me a wicked grin. "I think that can be arranged," she said, running one hand over my chest.

She lay back down and rested her head against my shoulder. I think we were both dozing off when I heard Obi-Wan over our bond. Padawan, we need to discuss what we're going to be observing tomorrow, so for the moment you need to rid yourself of any female companions.

Sigh. Yes, Master.

Padmé lifted her head and looked at me with bleary eyes. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Get your clothes on, baby. We're about to have company."

"Damn," she muttered, giving me a quick peck on the lips before getting out of the bed and snatching up her dress and underwear.

"Oh, and do me a favor..." I said.

"What?"

"There's some decongestant pills in my pack. Day and nighttime versions. Bring me a couple of the daytime pills--and take a couple of the nighttime ones and see if you can't get Sabé to sneak in Prince Organa's medicine cabinet and switch them out with his Viagra."

Padmé laughed. "What in the world makes you think he takes Viagra?"

"I'm a Jedi. I'm also a man. We know these things."

She laughed again. "I'll try, Ani. I'm sure Sabé would love to take a shot at sneaking past the guards, but she doesn't have the Force."

"Like I'm worried about that. Sabé could pull a mind trick on Master Yoda, Force or no Force." She wasn't Padmé's chief bodyguard for nothing.

Another laugh from my girlfriend, then she went into my pack.

Obi-Wan didn't have much to brief me about. It turns out that the Senate meeting is just going to be a review process of defense systems on each planet; two of which, Alderaan and Naboo, are pacifist planets with hardly any defense systems to speak of. However, since the Trade Federation fiasco eight years ago, Padmé has been nervous and has insisted on beefing up security on Naboo. Even since stepping down as Queen to become Senator a few years ago, she still kept her influence on the new Queen, Jamilla, regarding the safety of the Nubian people.

We only met for about half an hour, and I lay down for an hour before dinner. I'd done nothing but sleep for three days, and I still felt like I had been run over by a herd of banthas. At least after the decongestant my nose finally stopped running.

I had dozed off again and awoke to knocking on my door, then a low female voice. "Alright, Skywalker, I did it. You owe me one."

Sabé. I rolled over, looked at her, and smiled. "You're serious?"

"Damn straight I'm serious. If he catches on, I'm blaming you though." She was grinning, and winked at me. "At least if he falls asleep face-down in his potatoes at dinner, we'll know exactly what was on his mind."

We both laughed, then Sabé added, "Now get out of bed, snot-boy. Your master is looking for you. It's almost dinnertime."

I had to smile again. Sabé has been like a sister to me.

Dinner was a boring affair. I even think the High Council of Twelve Who Desperately Need to Get Laid would have found it worthy of a few yawns. ("Right about these people, you were, Padawan Skywalker," Master Yoda would say.

Yeah. Then maybe he'd strip naked and dance on the table.)

I sat between Padmé and Obi-Wan. Sabé was on Padmé's other side, followed by Sir Pompous One and the other three Senators, and about ten other Alderaani dignitaries, all with some incredible disease that caused them to speak permanently, and constantly, in monotone voices. I entertained myself by using the Force to give them each sensations of tiny bugs crawling up their legs. Of course I also had to use the Force to cover my own snickers when the Senator from Concord Dawn jumped up and hit his head on the chandelier after one bug-crawling sensation.

The other dinner guests blamed said reaction on free-flowing Alderaani wine.

After awhile, even Organa was yawning. (Was he actually taking that stuff Sabé slipped him?) He rose from his chair. "Shall we retire to the parlor for after-dinner drinks, ladies and gentlemen?" he asked.

"Actually, I think Jedi Skywalker and I are going to walk in the gardens if you don't mind," Padmé said.

"As you wish," Organa said, in his usual monotone voice.

Padmé took my arm, and we left the suffocating atmosphere of the dining hall for the open nighttime air of the palace gardens, with Obi-Wan and Sabé several feet behind us.

*****

It was a perfect night for a walk, warm enough to be comfortable but not so humid as to be stifling. The gardens were full of every beautiful flower that Alderaan had to offer. Through a canopy of trees, we could see both of Alderaan's moons as well as several stars.

I remember the day eight years ago when I had sat on my mother's porch on Tatooine with Master Qui-Gon, asking if all the stars had a system of planets, dreaming of seeing them all, but never believing that it would actually happen.

I also never believed that the beautiful angel I met in Watto's shop would ever return my affection for her. But here we were, walking hand in hand on the palace grounds of Alderaan.

"So tell me again," Padmé said, "what exactly did you do to warrant having to scrub Master Yoda's toilet? And Obi-Wan's?"

"I told them I needed more caf in the middle of a Council meeting," I said.

"What? That punishment seems a little harsh for such a minor offense."

"Well, considering the last person to ever scrub Master Obi-Wan's toilet was probably Master Yoda's grandmother, it was pretty harsh. But, it wasn't exactly my first offense. During a previous Council meeting, I had ventured a guess as to whether or not Master Poof's neck was five standard feet long or six. The time before that was when I offered to shine Master Windu's head for him. And the time before that, I presented Master Yoda with a nose-hair trimmer."

She laughed, and playfully swatted me on the arm. "Ani!"

I was laughing too. "Now, come on. You know it was funny. You wouldn't be laughing otherwise."

"Of course it was funny. But you really should quit while you're ahead."

"Sure, babe. If you say so." I put my arm around her and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Come up to my room? I'm thinking about going inside."

We had stopped in the middle of the path. She looked up at me and placed her hand to my cheek. "Are you alright?"

"I'm OK. I'm just tired."

"You're probably not 100 percent yet, Ani. It's not like you to want to go in this early. Get some sleep."

"Really, Padmé, I'm fine. I'm just going to get a shower and lie down." I lowered my voice. "Promise me you'll come in later, even if I fall asleep."

She smiled, and stood on tiptoe to kiss my lips. "I'll come in. I promise."

I bent down to kiss her again, and turned to head back towards the palace.

By this time Obi-Wan and Sabé had caught up with us. "Where are you going, Ani?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Inside, to my room."

He immediately got that Jedi-Master-famous-worried look and touched the back of his hand to my forehead. The worried look was then replaced with relief. "OK," he said. "Get some rest. We've got a big day tomorrow."

Yeah, big boring day.

"I assume you're expecting a certain Senator in a little while?" Obi-Wan said.

"Of course."

"Well, just remember not to stay up all night. You've been sick as it is, and you need to be awake during the meetings tomorrow."

"Yes, Master."

*****

Half an hour later I had taken a shower, and no longer felt as sleepy. How long until Padmé came up? I decided to go out on the balcony to look at the stars--and hope that for the meantime, a cool breeze would work as well as a cold shower.

I opened the glass-paned doors to the balcony and heard feminine laughter coming from the gardens below. I looked down and saw Sabé, Rabé, Saché, Padmé, Captain Typho--and Prince Organa.

And I'll be damned if His Royal Pompousness wasn't practically drooling over my girlfriend.

I stretched out with the Force. Sure enough, Padmé was basically ignoring him, but at the moment, he probably would have given up his Senate seat just to get into her pants.

He lay a hand on her shoulder and pointed up at the stars, naming off names, probably names he had learned in Royal Training on Showing Off One's Intelligence to Appear More Pompous than Ever.

Well, my Prince, Alderaan is about to gain one more moon.

I dropped my pants, sat up on the railing of the balcony, hung my buttcheeks over the edge, ducked my head, and then gave the handmaidens a nudge with the Force.

"Woo-hoo!" I heard squeals from three girls, then gasps, "Oh gods," and laughter from Padmé and Captain Typho--and then, Prince Organa.

"Jedi Skywalker!" he shouted angrily. "What are you doing? Relieving your colonary needs over my balcony?"

In Basic, am I taking a dump in your garden? I would consider it if I thought I could get away with Force-projectiling the turd and having it land on your head.

I quickly pulled my pants back up and ran inside, then removed all my clothes and crawled in the bed, acting like nothing had happened.

A few minutes later, a knock on the door, then Sabé stuck her head in. "Nice ass, Anakin," she said, then left.

Immediately after, Padmé opened the door, came in, and shut it behind her. She was laughing and shaking her head at the same time. "Now, Ani, was that really necessary?"

"Very much so."

"Why did you feel you had to moon him?"

"He needed mooning."

"He needed mooning?"

"Yes, he did. Come on, babe, you saw the way he was looking at you. He wanted a piece of ass. So I gave him one."

This brought a burst of hysterical laughter from her, then she removed her clothes, crawled into bed beside me, and kissed my lips. "You're crazy," she said, "but that's why I love you so much."

I smiled. "What would you do around all these Senate dignitaries if you didn't have me to entertain you?"

She laughed and kissed me again. "I have no idea," she said, "but life certainly wouldn't be as interesting." With that she climbed on top of me and began running her hands up and down my body. "Now," she said in a low voice, "shall we pick up where we left off earlier?"

Could this meeting get any more boring?

Even after five cups of caf (and three trips to the 'fresher in the past hour because of it), I was still yawning.

Of course that had something to do with the fact that Padmé and I had made love for, oh, about four straight hours.

I smiled at the thought of it. Then sneezed. Nice way to interrupt your own passionate thoughts, Skywalker. At least I was still carrying tissues in my cloak.

You're never going to get rid of that cold if you don't start sleeping at night, Padawan, I heard Obi-Wan say over our bond.

Damn it, Master, I'm not doing that bad. That was the first sneeze today. Almost. I was trying to blow my nose without echoing around the entire Senate chamber. Not that the sound wouldn't be more exciting than what they were discussing right now.

A list of Concord Dawn weapons of every type--blasters, AT-AT walkers, AT-ST walkers, detonators--hell, there were probably Gungan electropoles listed in there somewhere. Then a list of how many soldiers they had, in each branch of the armed forces, names, ranks, and positions.

Concord Dawn had a more substantial defense force than I originally thought--still small, but since they had to name every member of the military and list his or her rank, position, and species, just the Concord Dawn delegation had taken an hour and a half.

Before then, Malastare's list had taken three standard hours.

The thought of listening to three more planetary defense lists made me want to impale myself on my own lightsaber. I raised my shields. Time to imagine Padmé naked.

She was in the Nubian senatorial box several standard feet below, surrounded by Sabé, Rabé, and Captain Typho. She was wearing a gold and silver brocaded high-necked gown (the better to keep Organa's eyeballs away from my girlfriend) and a headpiece to match. At least since she wasn't Queen anymore, she didn't have to hide behind that damn pancake makeup. I always thought it covered her real beauty.

Right now she looked bored. Probably just as tired of hearing how many captains the Concord Dawn army had, as I was.

I sent her a few images through the Force. Master Yoda smoking spices. That got a smile out of her.

Jar-Jar Binks as head of the Jedi Council. Another smile.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine with a Mohawk. Another smile. Ani, stop it, she said.

You look bored, baby. And I'm just getting warmed up. I sent her the killer image: Bail Organa wearing a pair of extra-large pink lacy thong underwear.

That did it. In the middle of a description of the accomplishments of Admiral Throes Manter of the Concord Dawn Royal Navy, Padmé burst into laughter, then covered her mouth with her hand to hide it.

"Senator Naberrie," Organa asked, "is everything alright?"

Padmé immediately switched from laughter to coughing, and Sabé slapped her on the back. "She's fine, Your Highness," Sabé said, "just swallowed water and it went down the wrong way."

Organa looked up at me. At least Obi-Wan hadn't found out about his unobstructed view of my buttcheeks last night. That was a confrontation I was not looking forward to.

Padmé finally looked up at me, biting her lip to keep from laughing again. Anakin Skywalker, I love you. And you are in so much trouble right now.

I'll live, I sent back, winking at her.

Right at that moment I heard shouts coming from the door to the chambers, then another sound.

Blaster shots.

The senators all ducked in their boxes; the guards raised their blasters; Sabé let off a string of Nubian curses and tackled Padmé to the floor of their box; and Obi-Wan and I ignited our light sabers and turned towards the sound.

There, in one of the empty Senate boxes, leaning over the edge, cocking his blaster towards the senator from Malastare, was a Dug.

A Dug, of all creatures. Good for nothing other than gambling and cheating on pod races.

Podraces. That's where I'd seen him before. I stretched out with the Force, and sure enough.

"Master!" I said, in a loud horrified whisper. "I know him!"

"From where?" Obi-Wan said.

"Podracing! I raced against him in the Boonta Eve eight years ago!"

"What?"

By this time the Dug was trying, in vain, to make his blaster go off again. It didn't take the Force to realize that the first shots had been duds.

Dugs may be good pod racers, but they're definitely not astrophysicists.

Someone had sold this Dug a cap blaster and made him think it was a real one.

The blaster went off again--another dud, of course--but it caused the senators all to blanche again and Sabé to let off another string of curses, this time in Basic.

Obi-Wan and I Force-jumped over to the box where the Dug was standing. Too late, he tried to scramble over the edge of the box, but one of the fancy anklets he was wearing caught on the edge, and he hung there. Obi-Wan and I pulled him back over and shoved him to the ground, holding our ignited sabers to his throat.

This time it was his turn to blanche, particularly when he saw me. "Skywalker!" he said.

"That's right, you spidery-looking slime ball. Once a pod racer, now a Jedi. You'd better be glad you're too stupid to realize that blaster was a dud. Now stay the hell away from the Republic Senators."

"But...but...Moe...Malastare...swindled me...pod race..."

"Shut the hell up," I said, holding the saber closer to his throat.

Ease up, Ani, Obi-Wan said through our bond. You're not going to help anything by getting angry.

Sorry, Master, I said, feeling the calming Force he sent me over our bond. I was still angry, but was able to breathe a little more slowly. I've got issues with Dugs. Have for a long time. And Padmé's down there...she could have been hurt...

But she wasn't, Obi-Wan said, now relax. Go to her. She needs you.

By this time one of Organa's guards had arrived. He flashed a badge, pulled out a pair of handcuffs, then realized he was going to need about four more sets for all the Dug's limbs.

I Force-jumped down to Padmé's box. She and the two handmaidens were still sitting on the floor, all of them white as sheets.

"What happened, Ani?" Padmé asked.

"Old pod racing dispute between that Dug and the Malastare senator. The Dug was so stupid that he let someone sell him a cap blaster instead of a real one. In order for that to happen, you have to have the IQ of a malfunctioning protocol droid. The difference in price is at least 500 Republic ditaris."

The girls looked at each other. Some color came back into their faces, and they giggled; high-pitched, hysterical, almost unnatural giggles. I took Padmé's hands and helped her off the ground, and the two handmaidens followed. "Come on," I said, "let's get you out of here."

Padmé and the handmaidens were silent, except for an occasional unnatural giggle, all the way back to the Palace, then down the hall to the guest wing. The only sounds I heard out of them were an occasional "cap blaster" and "pod race", followed by another high-pitched giggle. Padmé was never a chatterbox but she wasn't usually this quiet either. I shrugged it off to the fact that she had just had a shock.

When we got to the door to my room, she quickly excused the handmaidens, then pulled me inside and shut the door; next thing I knew she had her arms around my waist, squeezing me as if I were a lifeline, her face buried in my tunic. I hugged her back, noticed she was trembling, and felt wetness splash against my tunic.

"Padmé?"

She took a deep breath, trying to fight off the sobs escaping her. "Oh, Ani," she said, "I'm scared."

"Hey," I said, stroking her hair, "no one is going to hurt you, especially not anyone like that."

"I know," she said, and smiled through her tears, "but...if someone like that can get past security, what if someone else does? Someone who really is smart enough to kill us?"

That brought a fresh flood of tears. "The Republic is supposed to be at peace now, Ani," she said, "all we were supposed to be doing was checking up on the security of each planet, a routine meeting we've been having since the Trade Federation incident. Have we gotten so complacent that some idiot can just break into our meeting and shoot at us with a cap blaster?" She sobbed harder.

I rubbed my hand in small comforting circles on her back. "I don't know, babe, but I'm willing to bet that several members of Organa's security forces are about to get fired." I kissed the top of her head. "Seriously, Padmé, if the Republic itself was complacent, we wouldn't still be training Jedi. We're here to keep the peace, and we will do our jobs."

"I know, Ani." She turned away from me, dashed a sleeve across her face, and snatched up a tissue from the box beside my bed. "I'm sorry," she said, drying her eyes and blowing her nose. " I don't know what got into me."

"Nothing to be sorry for," I said. "You had a pretty bad scare. We can be glad it was an idiot Dug, but it was still scary.

"Come on," I said, leading her over to the bed, "why don't you lie down for awhile."

She gladly complied, lying down on the bed fully clothed and allowing me to take her shoes off. I lay down beside her and held her, and she was asleep within ten minutes, probably exhausted from her outburst.

A few minutes afterwards came a soft knock on the door, then Obi-Wan stuck his head in, followed by Prince Organa. "The Dug is in jail," my Master whispered, "and not getting out for awhile. Every security person guarding the Senate meeting has been fired. Everything alright in here?"

I nodded.

Behind him, Prince Organa looked at me and nodded, as if he suddenly realized why he had gotten mooned last night. Then both of them left.

Obi-Wan came in an hour later, while Padmé was still sleeping, and made me meditate.

I've been his Padawan for eight years, and he still hasn't figured out that meditating puts me to sleep. He says we have to do it because of the Code, something about being in tune with the Unifying Force. I don't want to be
in tune with the Unifying Force. I want to drink caf and watch my girlfriend sleep.

But I sat on the floor in a lotus position and started the meditation process anyway.

Master, I said, just before starting the process of clearing my mind, do you know how much I love you for doing this without a fight?

Somehow I don't think it has anything to do with me, Padawan, Obi-Wan retorted. I think it has more to do with the fact that you don't want to write any more essays on the benefits of meditation, to be reviewed by Master Yoda.

He was right about that one. For someone who doesn't understand the concept of putting the subject before the predicate in sentences in Basic, Master Yoda can nitpick every little comma and semicolon in an essay written by a Padawan.

I sighed, shut my eyes, and concentrated on a focal point inside my head in order to clear my mind.

I always had to steer myself away from the idea of making one of Padmé's breasts my focal point. If I do that, unless I'm wearing really loose-fitting pants, meditation becomes pretty difficult.

Usually, imagining a clear velvet nighttime sky full of stars did the trick. Nothing unusual about today in that regard, and soon I was deep in a meditative trance.

Desert sand. Pounding dry heat. Wind so hot, it felt like the exhaust from a launching cruiser. The shouts of vendors and the smells of dirt and eopie dung. A warm, soft voice.

"Ani! Come inside! A storm's coming!"

Mom. Standing outside our hovel, looking exactly the same as the day I left her.

"Ani!"

I was running. "Mom! Mom, I've missed you!'

She looked puzzled. "Ani, you haven't been gone that long."

Someone joined her in front of the hovel--a man, older, gentle-looking; then a boy, about my age, suntanned and frowning.

"Mom?" I asked.

Then, over all of them, a shadow, dark and ominous as a night with no stars and no moon.

Then, nothing.

I felt a hand brushing my hair back, and my eyes flew open. Obi-Wan was there, a concerned look on his face. "What happened, Anakin? I heard you screaming over our bond."

I realized I was drenched with sweat and breathing heavily.

Padmé, awakened from her sleep by the door opening and Obi-Wan's voice, rolled over and looked at me with bleary eyes. "What's going on?" she asked.

"I don't know what happened. I haven't had a vision like that in a long time."

"What did you see?" Obi-Wan asked.

"My mom, and some other people--like maybe she has another family now. Then this black shadow, covering all of them." I swallowed past a lump in my throat and felt my eyes stinging. "Master, is there any way we could go to Tatooine when we leave here? I think something might be wrong."

Obi-Wan hugged me. "I'll see what I can do," he said. Then he pulled back and cupped my cheek with his hand. "It might be nothing, Anakin. Remember that. Sometimes our visions are just possibilities, not realities."

"I know," I said, "but that's not a chance I'm willing to take."

"I understand. I'll see what I can arrange as far as getting us there. Right now just try to calm down."

"Thank you, Master," I said. "This means a lot to me."

He left the room, and I went and lay on the bed next to Padmé.

We took off the next morning. Obi-Wan, fortunately for me, didn't tell the Council where we were going, since somewhere in the Code, it seems to be written that having a mother is evil. All the Jedi Masters were delivered by storks, except for Yarael Poof, who was delivered by a giraffe, and Master Yoda, who emerged directly from innate molecules before the universe was created.

What Obi-Wan had managed to do was get us approved for a "vacation" and avoided disclosing the location; therefore procuring our ship for an extra two weeks. So far the Force has been with me, especially if the transport has heat and the pilot is from a warm planet.

Padmé, after hearing about my vision, insisted on going with us, asking Sabé to stand in for her. The full Senate wasn't going to be meeting for awhile anyway, as there was little going on in the Republic and after the Dug incident, their security was going through extra training and background checks.

Prince Organa saw us to the hangar.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Your Highness," Obi-Wan said.

"You're quite welcome, Jedi Kenobi," he said, shaking Obi-Wan's hand, then turning to shake mine. "And you, Jedi Skywalker." He lowered his voice. "You're a lucky man. I have sympathy for all the ignorant would-be suitors of Senator Naberrie, knowing they will be forced to view your gluteal parts."

I said nothing, just shook his hand and nodded.

He bowed towards Padmé and kissed her hand. "Madam," he said.

Keep that up, buddy, and I'll drop my pants for you right here.

Organa left, and I picked up Padmé's suitcase with one hand and her hand with the other. Obi-Wan had both of our packs loaded on the ship already.

"You need to relax, Ani," she said, squeezing my hand. "He knows I'm not interested in him. He's just behaving the way he was brought up to behave around women."

"Oh, is that what they teach you in Self-Importance 101?" I asked.

She laughed. "Yes, as a matter of fact it is." She kissed my cheek. "Now behave."

"Yes, ma'am." I laughed too, and we boarded the ship.

THE END

(Continued in Part 2: Tatooine)

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