Chapter 10

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The bond was breaking. Obi-Wan stumbled out of the cruiser, falling to his knees and clutching his head in agony.

It had happened so fast. First, there was a burning pain. Then, it felt like he was being stuck with needles over and over again. In his mind, the glowing rope that tied them together was fraying. The threads were snapping, one by one, and yet they snapped all at once. This type of pain felt so similar, and yet so different. Of course it felt similar. It had happened before. This wasn't the same, though. The burning pain was the same, but last time the bond had snapped almost all at once, with barely a trickle left behind, and then...gone. So similar, yet so different. So very different.

This was the second time Obi-wan had felt a bond break. All the pain he had felt over ten years ago was coming back full force, with some extra. He was again losing someone close to him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Silently, he begged to the Force not to take his brother from him, to not take his son away. Surprisingly, he felt the Force answer his plea, but he didn't understand what it was saying. Whatever the Force was trying to tell him, he hoped it was that Anakin would live. He didn't know if he could bear to lose him. And if he was alive when Obi-wan found him, he hoped his Padawan didn't want Ahsoka to train another initiate in his name as a dying wish. He really didn't want that to become a tradition.

Taking a deep breath, the Jedi Master stood up. He had to get moving if he was going to reach his Padawan, if he was even alive when he got there. As quickly as that thought had come, Obi-Wan shook it off. He will be, he reassured himself. He will be.

FR

Cody had to admit, he was worried. He hadn't learned a lot about the Jedi, but he knew enough. Enough to know that when a Jedi was in pain mentally, it was serious. After a moment, General Kenobi stood up and, having noticed Cody's concerned look, gave him a weak smile. That did nothing to ease Cody's worry, and he cocked an eyebrow at the Jedi's pathetic attempt to reassure him. The longer he thought about it, though, the more the clone commander realized that as hard as Kenobi was trying to reassure the commander and the other clones that everything would be okay, he was trying even harder to reassure himself.

FR

No zygerrians were visible outside the throne room. Any guards in the palace had been quickly and silently disposed of so the Queen wouldn't be alerted to the presence of her uninvited guests. Running as quickly and as silently as they could, Padme and the clones went towards the elaborately decorated entrance to the throne room. Upon reaching it, they pressed themselves to the walls on either side of the door. Padme held up a hand, silently telling the others to wait. She listened for a moment, before she she clenched her fist. The signal given, the clones backed up and blasted the doors open.

The throne room was elegant, to say the least. If the situation wasn't so dire, Padme would have stopped to admire the elegantly curing archways and the columns made of smooth, polished stone. Instead, she focused on the sole being in the room, aside from themselves: Queen Miraj Scintel. She was beautiful in a hard sort of way, Padme noticed, similar to a masterpiece carved out of stone. Exquisite, yet hard and cold. As the Senator continued to examine her adversary, their eyes met. Those glittering gold eyes would have pretty had they not been glittering with greed and ambition, and Padme had the feeling that any smile on her face would be a smirk.

Neither woman spoke as they held each others gaze. Around them, the other occupants of the room stood deathly still, seeming not even daring to breathe if it would shatter the icy silence they stood in. The Queen seemed to scrutinize Padme as if she were on trial, and the Queen was the judge, deciding what her sentence would be. After a tense silence, the zygerrian finally spoke.

"The Republic sent you. To rescue Skywalker, no doubt."

If looks could kill, the Queen would be most certainly dead from the look Padme was giving her. The Nabooian Senator tightened her grip on her blaster, turning her knuckles white. "No one sent me. I came of my own accord."

The Queen simply brushed her words off with a wave of her hand. "Whichever. I don't know and don't care who made the decision for you to come here. But I do know that it is too late for Master Skywalker." Through all this, Miraj's expression did not change, remaining an indifferent mask. Padme's eyes became slits when she mentioned Anakin. "What have you done with him?" she growled. The Queen reached for a glass resting an the armrest of her throne, and began to study the contents. "I am surprised a senator would care so much for a Jedi." "You didn't answer my question!" Padme spat. As much as she tried to hide it, the hand gripping her blaster began to tremble. "No," the Queen answered, smirking, "I didn't."

This answer only aggrivated Padme further. With her empty hand, she began to reach down, where a dagger was strapped to her thigh. She was slightly comforted when she felt the cool metal of the hilt in her hand. She wrapped her fingers around it, gripping it thghtly. "I will ask you one more time," she ground out, fighting to keep her voice even. "What happened to Anakin Skywalker?" Finally the Queen's indifferent facade dropped, and she sneered at Padme."

"I told you: it's too late for him. He's dead."

He's dead...dead...dead. The words repeated themselves over and over again in her head, an echoing mantra. "No..." she whispered. He wasn't. He couldn't be! Padme just stood there in shock. She didn't know for how long. Hours? Minutes? However long it was, she was pulled out of her stunned silence by something she never expected:

"It appears that you are mistaken, your Highness, because I am very much alive."