After walking almost a kilometer, Anakin paused and examined the somewhat clearer area to his left. "Master?" Anakin called when he realized Ob-Wan wasn't directly behind him.
"Anakin?" Obi-Wan called. "Where are you?"
"Where are you?" Anakin felt Obi-Wan sigh.
"Stay there. I'm on my way."
"I think I found something." He ran a few paces through the trimmed weeds and came upon a thin metal sheet sticking out of the ground, catching the light so that it glowed.
A few moments later, Obi-Wan appeared from behind a large tree. "There you are, Anakin. How did you get so far in front of me?"
"Youth beats experience?"
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Only in your dreams."
Anakin shrugged, with a cocky grin spread across his face. "If you say so." After a moment's pause, he added, "You certainly look tired."
"I'm not tired." Obi-Wan pushed his damp hair away from his face. "I'm hot."
Anakin smiled at Obi-Wan. Unlike poor Obi-Wan, Anakin wasn't even breaking a sweat. "I guess it helps to be from a desert planet, while others have spent their entire lives on temperature-controlled Coruscant."
Obi-Wan scoffed. "That is neither here nor there. Let's focus." He ran a hand across his forehead, wiping away a few lines of sweat.
"I'm focused." Anakin touched shiny metal. "What do you think this is?"
Obi-Wan looked at the metal and then up at Anakin. "Some sort of switch?"
"What do you think it does?"
"I have no idea." After a moment's skeptical consideration, Obi-Wan ventured a guess. "It could be a link to the ancient tunnel system."
"All the way out here?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "It covers the whole planet."
"Even here?"
"I agree that this part of the planet appears to be long abandoned. But perhaps, many years ago, it was somewhat populated, however sparsely, so the inhabitants extended the tunnels here."
"I guess you're right. But this piece, how far underground do you think it goes?" He pointed at the relatively short piece of metal. "And how long do you think it's been abandoned? It's obviously covered with years of overgrowth."
"Millennia, probably." Obi-Wan wiped some of the sweat out of his eyes. "But an abandoned tunnel system would be the ideal place for a terrorist group to hide."
"True. But if you're right, do you think it's weird that no one -- man or droid -- is guarding this . . . whatever it is?" He ran a hand along the curved metal and squinted, trying to determine just where it led.
"Yes, it does seem strange." Obi-Wan sighed.
"Maybe they're just really stupid."
"Are terrorists ever this stupid?"
Anakin bit his lower lip before he spoke. "Cocky, yes. Overconfident? Always. Stupid, rarely. I can't believe this would be a part of their base."
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Maybe this is exactly what they are hoping will happen. We're spending all of our time debating the backwards-flowing river and the metal sticking out of the ground in the middle of a vast, Force-forsaken forest that we aren't focusing on the true problem."
"I guess you're right." Without wasting any more time, Anakin grabbed the piece of metal and jiggled it in every direction he could imagine.
"Anakin!" Obi-Wan watched in rapt horror. "What are you doing?"
"Focusing on the true problem." Anakin twirled around to face Obi-Wan.
With a half-smile, Obi-Wan said, "By experimenting with a piece of metal you found sticking out of the ground that could lead down hundreds of meters into an underground fortress?"
Anakin shrugged and turned back to the switch. "Do you have any better ideas, Master?"
"Ah." Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side and nodded. "I suppose I don't." Obi-Wan approached the switch from the other side. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan and smiled. "No." He jerked the metal forward and then backward. "But now we know it moves."
"Let's take a step back and think about this situation for a moment." Obi-Wan took a few steps back from the piece of metal. He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and sighed.
Anakin released his hold on the switch and joined Obi-Wan to survey their surroundings. "I don't like this. We should be able to sense something."
"And that's precisely what worries me." Obi-Wan walked around the switch, his gaze shifting from left to right.
Anakin followed Obi-Wan's gaze through the deep, dark forest, but he didn't respond. The last thing he wanted to do was let Obi-Wan realize just how much the heat, insects and relative inactivity were bothering him, so he turned his attention back to the metal switch. He crouched next to the protruding metal and began to dig around it.
Obi-Wan knelt on Anakin's left side. "I am not sure this is smart."
Anakin shrugged. He loosened some of the surrounding dirt and jiggled the piece of metal. "It's loose." Anakin's words came out as a half-grunt through his teeth as he worked to pull the metal out of the ground.
"And it's growing." Obi-Wan's usually calm baritone was now a strained tenor due to the stress of lifting the heavy metal out of the ground.
As Anakin and Obi-Wan pulled the piece of metal out of the ground, it began to twirl in a counter clockwise rotation. Neither Jedi moved his hand.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan exclaimed.
Anakin stared at the growing, whirling metal and nodded. "A very bad feeling."
When the switch reached a critical height, just shorter than Obi-Wan, It stopped moving.
Obi-Wan flew backwards when he lost grip of the pole. "Blast."
"Master!"
"I'm all right, Anakin." After a moment, he added, "I see you activated the switch."
"I guess so." He turned and grinned at Obi-Wan. "I knew I was right."
Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet and rushed to Anakin's side. "So you were. Good job."
Before they realized what had happened, the switch sparked several times and then, of its own volition, pulled away from them diagonally across the field as if it was on some sort of track.
"How is that moving?"
Before Anakin could fully voice his question, the ground below him disappeared and he was thrown into an unexpected free fall. Mid-fall, Anakin was able to draw into the Force and turn his plunge into a controlled float. At the same time, he scanned the dark cavern for Obi-Wan.
He didn't see Obi-Wan falling next to him, but he did hear Obi-Wan's muffled curse along with a thud.
"Master?"
"Anakin?" Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber to shine some light into the dark cavern. "Where are you?"
Anakin heaved a small sigh of relief. "I think I'm above you." Anakin saw Obi-Wan's blue beam below him and twisted his body to avoid it when he hit the ground.
"How are you falling so slowly?"
"I don't . . . Ugh," he exclaimed when he hit the ground face-first.
Obi-Wan turned his lightsaber toward Anakin, illuminating them both in a blue glow. "Are you all right?"
Jumping to his feet, Anakin shook his head and checked to see if all of his limbs were working. "I'm fine." After he ignited his own blue lightsaber, Anakin fell into stride with Obi-Wan. "Are you all right?"
"Define all right." Obi-Wan sighed. He wiped some grime off his cheeks and straightened his robe.
Anakin chuckled. Obi-Wan looked disheveled, but otherwise unharmed. Anakin didn't think he looked nearly as bad, but he straightened his robe for good measure. "It looks like you were right. Underground tunnels."
Obi-Wan pointed his lightsaber in all directions, barely illuminating the area around them. "I hope this system has an exit."
"I'm sure it does. We probably just have to fight some terrorists or droids to find it." Anakin bounded away from Obi-Wan, lightsaber in hand.
"It worries me that you sound so happy."
Anakin didn't look back. "This way, Master. I hear something."
"Oh?"
"It sounds like it might be rushing water. And I see a path."
"I suppose I should be happy we're not stuck." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "It looks like this path goes toward the river."
"It makes sense."
"Nothing makes sense."
"Oh, Master, you just don't see the adventure in this."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Anakin. This worries me. Think about it. No guards, men or droids . . ."
"True, but maybe this tunnel path has been abandoned. It might be the back entrance."
"I hope you're right."
Anakin took a few steps down the path and waited for Obi-Wan to follow him. "You know, Master, you look quite un-Jedi-like."
Obi-Wan ran a hand across his beard. "Oh, do I?" He adjusted his dirty robe and smiled. "And you, Anakin, look most distinguished."
"Of course I do." Anakin wiped some grime from his fingers onto his cheeks. "I look intimidating."
"Oh, right." Obi-Wan flashed a smile. "I suppose I forgot that part of the Jedi Code."
"It's implied." Anakin shrugged and focused on the path before him.
"Anakin . . ."
Anakin shrugged. "I do agree that this trap is highly unorthodox."
Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm not sure it's quite as unusual as you think." Then he followed Anakin down the path. "If this tunnel fills with river water, I am blaming you."
"Don't say that, Master," Anakin groaned.
"Why not?"
Anakin stopped in his tracks. "Because I think that's the river."
"Blast! I had hoped you didn't hear it, too."
"I think we should . . . Run!"
Master and knight turned and sprinted in the direction they had come from. Soon, they felt water lapping at their feet.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Anakin muttered, half to himself. He and Obi-Wan raced through the dirty tunnel, trying to beat the water that was rushing behind them.
When the water was almost up to their knees, Obi-Wan exclaimed. "I see a door."
"Great. Where?" Anakin was slightly ahead of Obi-Wan and didn't want to stop to turn around because that might give the water an advantage.
"To the left. But I am not sure if it is open or closed."
Anakin tilted his head, trying to see the door Obi-Wan was talking about. But then, it was like the ground below him disappeared and he was falling again. Only this time, he didn't sense Obi-Wan anywhere near him. "Oh no," he muttered. "This can't be good."
He heard some kind of door snap shut and then he heard some water rush over him. "Master!"
When he heard no response, he took a deep breath.
"Obi-Wan?"
Still no response.
He closed his eyes and reached into the Force. Obi-Wan's life Force was still strong and bright, but Anakin couldn't contact him.
Anakin considered trying his com-link, but he figured Obi-Wan probably didn't have enough time to think about answering his com, if he could even hear it.
Taking a deep breath, Anakin looked around the new tunnel. He was happy to note that it was slightly brighter than the previous tunnel. It was bright enough so that he could see a few meters in front of him. Although he no longer needed his lightsaber as a source of light, he clutched the handle, ready to activate it, just in case.
He bit his lower lip and looked in both directions. Both sides of the path were dark and dank, but the path to the right seemed to be a bit better lit. One thing that surprised him was the fact that the ground of this tunnel was not mud and grime, but it was tiled in an ornate pattern.
He had the urge to take the lighted pathway, but the Force seemed to be pushing him towards the dark pathway on the left. So he obeyed.
With his lightsaber clutched, unlit, in his palm, he hurried down the dark pathway and let the Force guide his movements.
After a short time, he felt something shift in the Force. It was like everything that had been silenced before was now pounding in his brain. He sighed with relief. The Force was back.
He followed the strong pull of the Force, fighting the urge to fumble for his com-link to contact Obi-Wan. Whatever lifeforms he felt nearby might hear or see him.
The tunnel widened and he saw a spark of bright light in the distance. He crouched behind a protrusion from the side of the tunnel and waited.
-
As she sat at her desk in her private office during one of her rare mid-day breaks, Padmé skimmed her committees' minutes she could report to Queen Jamilla later this afternoon. Padmé bit her lower lip as she scrolled through a new bill that had been introduced to the budget committee. "A tax on exports to the inner rim? What are they thinking?" she said to no one in particular. She groaned as she imagined the possible affects a bill like this would have on the already economically-oppressed spice miners on the moons of Naboo.
With a frustrated sigh, she snapped the datapad shut and tossed it onto the desk.
As soon as the datapad hit the desk, she heard a soft voice say, "Senator? Is this a good time?"
"Cordé," Padmé whirled around in her chair and saw her handmaiden leaning against the door. "Did you arrange a meeting with someone from the Corellian delegation?" She leaned back in her chair and ran her hands down her cheeks, stifling a yawn.
Cordé shook her head and looked down at her hands. "Most of the delegation is off-planet."
Padmé sat up in her chair and leaned forward. "Why?"
"No one will say, m'lady." Cordé eased herself into one of the chairs opposite Padmé's desk.
"I don't believe that." Padmé shook her head, frowning. "Something isn't right."
"I know." Cordé took a deep breath. "They're being too secretive."
"I feared as much."
Cordé looked at Padmé through narrowed eyes. "Do you think something is happening there that they don't want the rest of the Galaxy to know about?"
Padmé chose her words carefully because she did not want to sound crazy. "I'm not . . . sure. I have my suspicions, but that's why I need to talk to someone from their delegation. Anyone. Today. And if you cannot arrange that meeting . . ." She let her threat trail off.
"Of course, m'lady. I will try."
"You either do or do not. There is no try," Padmé muttered.
Cordé flashed a confused look. "What does that mean?"
Padmé scolded herself for quoting Anakin's imitation of Master Yoda without thinking. "Never mind." She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Cordé stood and rushed to Padmé's side. "Are you all right?"
"Of course," Padmé snapped.
"But . . . but your face --"
"-- What about my face?" She brought her hands up to her cheeks.
"It is so pale."
Padmé took a deep breath. Without thinking to guard her words, she said, "I'm not sleeping well."
"What's wrong?" Cordé squeezed her shoulder. "Maybe I can help you."
Padmé closed her eyes for a moment, unable to look at Cordé. "Nothing." Her voice was nowhere near as declarative as she had intended.
"This is not nothing. We all know you're not eating, you're not sleeping . . ."
"Stop." Padmé's voice was more harsh than she had intended. "This is not something for you and the rest of my security team to discuss. You are my employees, not my guardians."
Cordé averted her eyes and stumbled over her words. "But we're worried about you."
"And you have no reason to be."
Cordé's voice took on an icy quality. "I have every reason to worry. I have known you since you were queen. I know when you're not well"
Padmé twisted a stubborn curl around her finger. "When I was queen, I was a child." Her voice held a hint of whimsical fancy.
"And you are still that child in many ways."
She tilted her chin into a regal pose. "I am not."
"I know you." Cordé walked behind Padmé's chair and focused her gaze on the dark window covering.
Padmé couldn't bring herself to protest.
Cordé continued, "And I know when something's wrong. Tell me the truth. Are you ill?"
"No." Her declaration was half-hearted. She was sick, but not in any way Cordé would understand. "I'm fine."
"Padmé --"
"-- Stop." Padmé stood and strode out of her private office, and into the reception area, with Cordé close on her heels. "We cannot have this conversation. Not right now. We both have work to do, and I can't be distracted." She noticed that Cordé wanted to interrupt, but she continued. "I have to holo-conference with the queen in a few minutes. And I still need to learn about Corellia."
"Might I inquire, m'lady, but what is so important Corellia? Why are you fixated to the detriment of your own health?"
Padmé looked at Cordé and sighed. She couldn't tell Cordé that the most important person in her life, her husband, was there fighting suspected terrorists, no matter how much her heart ached. "I've heard some classified intelligence reports that a terrorist organization, potentially led by Count Dooku, determined to overtake the Galactic Government, is based on Corellia."
"Count Dooku?" Cordé shook her head. "I thought he was dead."
"The Jedi believed he was killed several years ago while on a mission on Jabim." Padmé grabbed a datapad from her secretary's desk and handed it to Cordé. "But in recent months, there have been rumors that he's alive and has returned to his native Sorreno. And he's started to overtake planets just beyond the Outer Rim."
As Cordé scanned the datapad, her eyes grew wide with surprise. "How do you know this?"
"How wouldn't I know it?" Her eyes flashed. "Do you doubt my intelligence gathering techniques?"
"Of course not."
"Very well." Padmé pressed on, "Through my intelligence connections, I've heard reports from Sorreno that Count Dooku has gone mad with hatred. He appears to have a vendetta against the Republic and the Jedi."
"Isn't he a Jedi himself?"
Padmé nodded. "He was."
"Jedi are not terrorists; don't they stand for peace and justice? So why . . .?" Cordé followed close behind Padmé as they strode through a long hallway.
"Something happened to make him extremely disillusioned with the Jedi Order."
"What?"
"I wish I knew." Padmé tucked her hair behind her ears and sighed. "It was enough so that he faked his own death and concocted a plot to take over the Galaxy."
"It seems crazy . . . and overblown."
"I know." Padmé opened the datapad as she walked.
"Are you sure he wants to take over the Galaxy?"
"I think so . . . I mean I have heard reports. I don't know much about Count Dooku, but I have heard that he has long been unhappy with the way the Jedi have treated the Senate."
Cordé whirled on her heel. "How so? Aren't the Jedi sworn to protect democracy and peace?"
"Precisely. He thought the Jedi were far too passive." She scanned the document for a few seconds. "And that democracy in general is an inefficient system."
"So he was just frustrated? Could that level of frustration really lead to someone becoming a terrorist mastermind?"
"I think it had to be more than that. People don't just turn into terrorists. It would be hard to imagine a normal person's very belief system changing so suddenly, but it is impossible to imagine that happening to a Jedi. They're our moral compasses, the outward symbol of peace and democracy."
"You're right." Cordé wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes. "Then something terrible must have happened to Dooku. I wonder what happened that caused such extreme disillusionment."
"I'm not sure if it could be one event. It has to be a series of things built over time, fueling his fire and eliminating all aspects of his Jedi training."
"But why?"
"If I had to guess, I would say that he had illusions of grandeur. Maybe he learned of his birthright as part of the Sorreno royal family and he began to feel a sense of entitlement. Maybe he thought he could run the government more effectively than the politicians. But as a Jedi, he couldn't be allowed to overthrow the government because they have sworn to serve the Galactic Government."
"So he decided to leave the Jedi?"
"Jedi don't just leave the Order." Padmé had a feeling her bitterness showed in her voice. "It's almost impossible."
Luckily, Cordé didn't mention Padmé's tone of voice or ask her about how she knew. She nodded and asked, "The Jedi expelled him, then?"
"No, I don't think so. It appears he convinced them that he had been killed on Jabim."
"It seems so improbable."
Padmé shrugged. "Sometimes the most improbable events are the ones that actually do happen."
"I guess."
"I think Dooku found an escape, and he took it." Padmé scrunched her nose. "I wonder how hard it was for him to return to his home planet in secret, as well as assume his hereditary title and collect his considerable fortune. If he felt so entitled . . ."
Cordé added, "Not to mention, how did he concoct a terrorist organization bent on destroying both the Jedi and the Republic in secret?"
"Exactly."
Cordé sighed. "Of all the planets in the Galaxy, why would he choose Corellia as his base?"
Padmé cocked her head. "Why wouldn't he choose Corellia? It seems like a perfect choice. It's a central location with vast resources and industry."
Cordé added, "With many less than scrupulous individuals that he could recruit."
"Precisely." After a moment, Padmé said, "I just wonder why Garm Bel Ibils and the rest of the delegation have left Coruscant."
Cordé sighed. "Even if the planet was under siege, what use would a bunch of politicians and bureaucrats have on a war torn planet."
"I am sure they all have families on Corellia."
"That's true."
"So maybe that's the answer. If their planet is under siege, maybe they have returned for their loved ones." She groaned.
"I think we would do the same thing if it was Naboo."
"Exactly." Padmé groaned. "But that doesn't help me."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." Padmé looked at her feet and took a deep breath before she strode down the hallway again.
Cordé looked around the hallway and, when she was sure it was empty, turned to Padmé with a conspiratorial grin. "You know, you never told me if you used my advice."
Padmé snapped her head up, confused about the abrupt change in topic and mood. "What?"
"You know exactly what I mean." Cordé draped her arm around Padmé's shoulder. "My advice. From a few weeks ago."
Padmé felt her cheeks redden. "I . . . Yes, I know what you mean."
"So did you?"
"Did I what?" Padmé groaned when she saw the knowing look in her handmaiden's eyes. Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "And is this any place to discuss it?"
"So you did."
Padmé rolled her eyes. "I can neither confirm nor deny those rumors."
"I knew it." Cordé squeezed Padmé's shoulders. "Who was the lucky man?"
"No one. It was purely for research purposes." Her eyes averted to the ground.
"Research. How did you . . ."
Padmé shot her a look.
Cordé bowed her head. "Of course. Research. Obviously."
