To Change the Galaxy

Chapter 6: Visitor

Two days later, I had still not received any comm calls from Obi-Wan. I had, however, gotten roughly six comms from Anakin, who had been comming more and more frequently as the days passed and sounding increasingly desperate each time we spoke.

Neither of us had been able to come up with any decent ideas as to how to protect Padmé and the twins and Anakin's potential solutions were becoming less practical and more—well. The last idea he had proposed had started with a high profile kidnapping and then ended with faking Padmé's death. Luckily, he had realized how entirely not possible that was on his own without me having to break the news to him. However, the fact that he had actively considered it was more than a little worrying.

Our last comm call had consisted almost entirely of me attempting to convince him that maybe he should think less and sleep more. The comm had ended with Anakin miserably admitting that he saw Padmé die every time he closed his eyes, so he thought sleep was doing him more harm than good.

After that comm, I tried to talk to Padmé about Anakin and his difficulty sleeping. I had been hoping that, together, we might be able to come up with a way to help him calm down a little and maybe get some rest. Instead, I had found myself caught in a very strange conversation where Padmé stopped herself from saying things far more often than she actually said anything. Then, before I could even figure out if Padmé was trying to talk about the twins, the Republic or possibly both, she gave me an oddly breezy farewell, agreed to comm me later, and then disconnected. Because Padmé had been so preoccupied with whatever it was that was preoccupying her, I hadn't even had the chance to bring up Anakin's difficulty sleeping.

So, the first time a loud chime echoed through my apartment three days after I commed Obi-Wan, I groaned, hauled myself to my feet, and opened the door, fully expecting to see either a frantic, sleep deprived Anakin or an anxious but determined Padmé waiting for me outside.

Instead, Obi-Wan stood patiently in the hallway.

"Hello, Sabé," he said. "I am sorry to drop by unannounced. Is this a bad time?"

I stared at him. It was my day off from work and my only plans had been to lock myself in my apartment and brainstorm ways to help Padmé and Anakin. I was wearing the long ratty nightgown I'd had for almost decade. My feet were bare. My hair was down.

I smiled at him brightly, hoping that maybe that would direct his attention towards my teeth, which I had brushed that morning. "Oh, no, no, no; now's fine. Of course it's fine; it's totally fine; it's—" I stepped aside to let Obi-Wan into my apartment, before I could finish repeating myself for the fourth time.

As Obi-Wan walked past me, though, I immediately wished I had just kept him outside while I continued to tell him how fine everything was.

There were two vases of flowers on my kitchen table—one was full of half-dead flowers, and the other was full of entirely dead flowers. My slippers were strewn on the floor leading from the sofa to the door and my caf table was covered with datapads. My holoscreen was showing a really cheesy holodrama, where a gorgeous Twi'lek woman was confessing her love for an equally gorgeous Human man. My favorite quilt was also bunched up on the sofa, and I'd thrown my cloak across my armchair, leaving Obi-Wan nowhere to sit.

"Um, sorry about the mess," I said as I kicked my slippers under the kitchen table and then hurriedly hobbled over to the living room section of my kitchen/living room in order to click the holoscreen off. That done, I quickly stuffed my quilt and cloak under my arm. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna, uh—" I nodded at my room, spun around before he could say anything, and then disappeared inside, slamming my hand against the doorpad.

My cheeks burned and my heart was trying to hide inside my toes.

But never mind that. Shaking my head furiously to clear out of all the unhelpful thoughts currently tripping around inside of it, I chucked my cloak and quilt on the bed before lurching towards the closet.

Under a minute later (a quick change time worthy of my decoy days), I re-entered the living room, smiling sheepishly. My dress was pretty wrinkled, my socks didn't match, and Rabé would probably cry if she saw my bun, but it was an improvement. It was also quick enough that it hadn't allowed Obi-Wan too much time to look around my apartment and notice all the awful things I hadn't noticed. I slowly made my way towards the sofa, to grab the corner opposite of the one Obi-Wan had claimed.

"Sorry about that," I said, trying to ignore my still burning cheeks. "I wasn't really planning on going anywhere today, so I just—" Obi-Wan's face was perfectly polite, but his eyes were dancing. My face did the impossible and got even hotter. Right. Well, too late to save my dignity now—moving on. "Well, never mind that. Whatever. Doesn't matter. How can I help you?"

I smiled again. Smiles made everything seem more purposeful and less awkward, I was pretty sure. At the very least, a smile had never made anything worse. As I smiled and slowly pulled my feet up under me, my face cooled from 'inferno' to 'campfire' levels of hot.

A smile crept across Obi-Wan's face. "First, I would like to apologize for not comming you back. Time kept slipping away from me and then, after this morning, a visit seemed more appropriate."

"It's not a problem," I said, something settling inside me as my face continued to return to a normal temperature. "I know all the Jedi are busy, and I'm sure that, as a member of the Council, you're even busier. But what happened this morning?"

"I'd ask you to keep this to yourself, Sabé," Obi-Wan began, his expression fading into something more serious. "But we believe we have found General Grievous."

My eyebrows shot up as I collapsed back against the armrest.

"Truly?" I breathed.

With Count Dooku dead, General Grievous was the last true threat to the Republic. While there were plenty of other Separatists and aspiring Separatist leaders, none of them had even a quarter of the tactical or strategical abilities of Grievous, who had only a fraction of the talent for war that Dooku had. Already the news reports on the war had begun to hint that, without Dooku, the tide of the war was finally starting to change. If we could eliminate Grievous as well as Dooku, we could probably use the resulting momentum to defeat the Separatist forces and finally begin peace talks.

"We believe so, yes," Obi-Wan said slowly.

"Stars," I said. "Just—just—stars."

I blinked at Obi-Wan and my living room for a moment, trying to let the enormity of what I had just been told sink in. The war could be over in a matter of weeks. After so many years of fighting, we could finally start building towards peace.

Then Obi-Wan said, "I have been chosen to lead the forces searching for Grievous."

My attention snapped back to Obi-Wan, who was now sitting with a perfectly straight back on my soft sofa, his face looking entirely Jedi Master-like.

"But you just got back!" The words slipped out before I even knew I was thinking them.

Obi-Wan's face softened and, suddenly, all I could see were the shadows under his eyes, the furrow between his brow, and the tense set to his shoulders.

Why could I never think before I spoke?

"Sorry, I mean, of course you have to go. It's Grievous. So I'm sure the Republic needs to send its best, which is you, obviously," I hurried to say, but Obi-Wan's posture didn't relax and his eyes remained heartbreakingly distant, as if he wasn't looking at me in my disaster of an outfit, but at some other disaster, lifetimes and lightyears away. "I just hate watching you leave." Words kept slipping out of my mouth without my consent. I, once again, hurried to lessen the impact of my selfish stupidity. "Every time you're gone, you seem to start some sort of musical group and I'm never invited. I'm not entirely awful at singing, Obi-Wan," I teased as gently as I could, cautiously sneaking my good foot out from under me to nudge him in the knee. "I only slip out of key about half the time, and I feel that should qualify me for a place in your up and coming band. I'm pretty hurt you haven't asked, honestly."

Obi-Wan's shoulders dropped slightly as his lips quirked upwards. "Anakin had a field day when he saw that headline. I don't know how the holonet comes up with some of these things."

"Good inside sources," I said with mock solemnity. "No secret is safe from them, Master Kenobi, not even your very well hidden dream of skyrocketing to superstardom."

That earned me something very close to a full smile as Obi-Wan relaxed back into the sofa cushions.

"I suppose you're right. After all these years, I truly should know better than to try and hide anything from the eminently trustworthy reporters of the Galactic Star. They always uncover the truth eventually," Obi-Wan said drily.

"That they do," I smiled.

The silence that followed was comfortable. Obi-Wan sat in his corner of the sofa with a comfortable posture and a face that wasn't a mask. He was still here and he was still safe. And he would be for at least a little while yet, which counted for something.

Finally, the silence was broken when Obi-Wan sighed.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone," he said. "It could be only a few days or it could take weeks. It will depend on how good our information is."

Weeks. Somehow, weeks always seemed to turn into months. But Obi-Wan didn't need someone saying sad things he probably already knew.

"Well, I'm sure it won't take you and Anakin long to find him," I said, trying to sound like I believed it. "And," I added, suddenly finding an actual small silver lining to the situation, "it might be good for him to be off planet and away from—everything."

Obi-Wan sunk deeper into the sofa, exhaustion suddenly clear in every line of his body. "Anakin's not coming."

A swear slipped out.

Obi-Wan sighed again. "I know. He's not at his best right now."

I stared at him. Talk about an understatement. Anakin had seriously considered fake murder and kidnapping a top medical researcher as a viable solution to his dreams. I was halfway convinced the poor man was two or three sleepless nights away from a total nervous breakdown.

Obi-Wan shot me a look filled with poorly hidden anxiety. "Do you think you and Padmé could keep an eye on him? His dreams haven't been letting him sleep and—" Obi-Wan broke off and stared at the datapads filling my caf table. Then, slowly, he continued. "I trust Anakin with my life and I am certain he won't do anything foolish. But the idea of leaving him right now is—" Obi-Wan struggled for a moment before saying, "—making me uneasy."

"Yeah," I said slowly, trying to decide what to say. Obi-Wan didn't have the option to stay and support Anakin. He had to leave to track down Grievous, and I didn't want to say anything that would make going harder for him. But, also, Anakin had seriously suggested we frame Jar Jar for fake murdering Padmé and then allow him to go to real jail for it in order to make the fake murder seem more convincing. "I am, um, somewhat less sure he won't do something stupid? But, uh, I mean, I'll do what I can to make sure he doesn't and I'm sure Padmé would be more than happy to do so as well."

"I saw Padmé earlier this morning and she agreed," Obi-Wan said. "She seems so tired though. I wish I didn't have to add to her burden like this. It must be difficult enough being pregnant while—"

"Ha!" I exclaimed, pointing at him excitedly. "Did you tell Padmé that?"

Obi-Wan looked taken aback. "Tell Padmé what, precisely?"

"The pregnant thing! The fact that she's pregnant! Did you say that to her?"

If someone who supposedly wasn't meant to know she was pregnant had mentioned to her that she was obviously pregnant maybe she'd realize how pointless it was trying to hide her pregnancy! She was carrying twins, for the sake of the stars! You couldn't hide twins! I didn't know why she and Anakin thought she could.

"No," he said slowly. "She hasn't mentioned her pregnancy to me, so it seemed impolite to bring it up. Why?"

I groaned, my head flopping backwards as I stared grumpily at the ceiling. He'd gotten my hopes up that at least something had gotten cleared up and then he'd dashed that hope to pieces. Padmé and Anakin would continue in their blissfully wrong opinion that Obi-Wan and the rest of the galaxy was unaware that Padmé was about to pop and I would continue to be sworn to secrecy about something that wasn't actually a secret. Perfect.

"Nothing," I grumbled. "I'm sworn to secrecy. I was hoping maybe you'd said something that made Padmé realize she was being absurd and that I didn't need to be sworn to secrecy but never mind. Although, if you want to casually say something like that to her, it might make our lives a lot simpler."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a long moment.

"Ugh. Just forget I said anything. You were saying?" I reluctantly straightened my head out so I could look at him again, instead of my ceiling.

"Nothing of particular consequence," Obi-Wan said. "Just that Padmé seems tired."

"Everyone does these days," I sighed.

With Anakin's sleep deprivation being so alarmingly obvious, it was easy to overlook everyone else. But, now that Obi-Wan mentioned it, Padmé had yawned several times on the comm the last time we spoke and her being tired would explain several of her more incoherent sentences. And Obi-Wan looked exhausted too.

"Maybe," I suggested, "We should comm the Separatists and see if they would agree to have several galactic nap days, where we briefly cease the war in order to sleep. I'm sure they have some rest they'd like to catch up on, too."

Obi-Wan laughed softly. "Perhaps you should propose your idea to Padmé and see if she can draft a bill to put before the Senate. I certainly see some merit in the idea."

"It's definitely a thought," I said. "Will you at least have a chance to sleep in hyperspace when you head off to find Grievous?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. We're using a very small, very poorly known hyperspace lane and our stop is almost directly off the lane. It will only take about an hour to get there."

"Well, I suppose sooner there, sooner gone?" I tried to find the bright side.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "That's true. And I truly believe Anakin will not do anything too foolish. Although," he sighed, "I would feel more certain of that if we had a solid plan in place for helping Padmé."

"So Anakin did clear everything up with you then," I said, slumping back against the armrest in relief. "Thank the stars. I had no idea what I was going to say to you if he'd let you keep thinking I was going to die instead of Padmé."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Yes, well." A flush creeped up his face even as he continued on, saying, "Have you any thoughts as to what we can do to keep Padmé alive?"

I desperately wanted to talk to Obi-Wan about the mix up more, especially because I could barely remember the last time I'd seen him so flustered. However, Obi-Wan was always very kind about avoiding topics that made me want to disappear, so it seemed only fair to return the favor. And, besides, we really should try and hash out a plan for Padmé. Although, the more I thought about the situation, the more impossible it seemed.

"Not really. Anakin's dream is honestly almost worse than nothing. I mean, how are we supposed to come up with a plan to prevent it from happening if we don't know when or where or how or why it's going to happen? Unless," and this was my desperate hope, "You've thought of something I missed?"

Obi-Wan hadn't.

Still, we gamely spent the next hour tossing around ideas and searching for some kind of solution.

We didn't find one. And, before we knew it, Obi-Wan was reluctantly standing up and heading for the door.

"I have some last minute preparations to make before we leave," Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm sorry to be leaving behind such a mess for you, Sabé, but you always seem to rise to the occasion." He grinned. "Perhaps I'll come back to find that you have already solved all of our problems with one neat trick."

I snickered as I followed Obi-Wan towards the exit. "Yes, because I have such an excellent track record of addressing things head on. But," I said, a little more seriously, "Truly, Obi-Wan, don't worry. I'm sure we can keep ourselves from falling apart for at least a few more weeks."

Obi-Wan reached the door. But, instead of opening it, he turned around to face me. "I have no doubt. But, if something does happen, please comm me and let me know. I don't know how much I'll be able to help, but—"

I rolled my eyes goodnaturedly. "Trust me, Obi-Wan, you'll hear all about it. How could you even think you wouldn't? I'm pretty sure I've accidentally filled your message box with my comm calls multiple times already."

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "Thank you, Sabé."

I wasn't quite sure what he was thanking me for, but I still said, "Of course," even as I seized the opportunity to study him for a moment, trying to memorize his smile, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the brightness of his eyes.

I hated when Obi-Wan left.

But, hate it or not, he was leaving. It was his duty to leave. So, reminding myself that he was still safe for now, I grinned at him, leaned my cane against my coat rack, and hugged him.

Obi-Wan, having had several years to get used to my good-bye hugs, hugged me back with very little hesitation.

I closed my eyes and took in a long, deep breath.

"Try and come home in one piece, okay?" I mumbled into Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"I'll do my best," he murmured back.

Then, with a long, shuddery breath, I let go of him, grabbed my cane, and carefully stepped away.

He gave me a lightening quick smile before turning around and opening my door.

I stepped into the doorway after him, watching him stride down the hall, away from me.

When he reached the stairway, he turned around, met my eyes, and lifted his hand in farewell.

I hitched my mouth into something that could hopefully be mistaken for a smile at a distance and waved back.

Then he was gone.

Expected Update Time: Before September 4th hopefully; Definitely before September 25th