A/N: More Clone Wars storylines here, so spoilers I guess. Any dialogue you recognise comes from there. I also borrowed a title. I suck at titles.

To Takeda - Thanks for the review! Glad to have converted you to Sobiwan :)

Chapter Twenty – Deception.

Her palms were sweating. Nerves turned her insides stormy, and she fought to calm herself.

You can do this, Sabé.

She was off-duty, spending a laid back evening with Padmé in the veranda lounge. See-Threepio was fussing around them, pouring drinks. Moteé was in her room, calling her family. Teckla was out with a friend. Gregar was also off-duty for once, on his way up from his own apartment to join them for drinks. His team of officers were at their stations. Everything was normal.

Except that Obi-Wan was on a mission with Anakin and Ahsoka Tano.

After two months of silence from the Order of Sanctuary murderer, the Jedi Council had deemed it safe enough to send Obi-Wan on a slightly longer, crucial assignment. Sabé disapproved of the idea. The whole thing sounded ridiculously dangerous. But of course she could not object.

"What do you think of this wine?" Padmé asked her, cutting through her thoughts.

Sabé forced a smile onto her face. "I quite like it. Why? Don't you?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe I need to drink more than one glass!"

"That's how it all starts," Sabé teased.

Padmé pulled a face, reaching for a slice of shuura fruit. Sabé surreptitiously glanced at her chrono. It had been several hours since Obi-Wan had left.

It won't be long now.

As if summoned by her reflections, Gregar clattered down the stairs, a grim expression on his face. Sabé's heart gave a little flip in anticipation.

"There you are," Padmé greeted him warmly. "I'll get Threepio to get you a drink."

"No, thank you, I'm fine," he said, barely taking his eye off Sabé.

"What is it?" she made herself say, rising to her feet. "Gregar?"

Gregar shifted awkwardly, approaching her with a look of compassion. "I've…just had word from the Jedi Temple."

"Oh?" said Padmé, standing too, a cloud of worry settling over her face.

Gregar reached for Sabé's hand, holding it in both of his. "Sabé…uh…I don't really know how to say this, but…Obi-Wan has been killed."

Sabé simply stared at him, hearing Padmé's exclamation beside her. She swallowed hard.

"Wh…what?"

"The mission he was on," Gregar explained, "he was…shot. By a bounty hunter."

Sabé dropped back down onto the sofa, her hand slipping out of his grip. Padmé sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Their kindness just made her feel worse.

"I'm so sorry, Sabé," said Gregar, sitting on her other side and exchanging a worried look with Padmé.

"It's…it's okay," she said, her voice faint. "He was…just a friend. I'll be okay."

And then the tears came.

Two days ago.

Obi-Wan had a heavy weight of expectation pooling in the pit of his stomach as he joined Masters Yoda and Windu in one of the Jedi Temple's meditation rooms. He was fairly confident he knew why he'd been summoned. The conversation they'd had two months before was still fresh in his mind.

"Thank you for coming," Mace Windu greeted him as he took a seat on one of the low stools.

"This is about Moralo Eval, isn't it?" Obi-Wan said, looking between them.

"Correct, you are, Obi-Wan," Yoda nodded.

The night the Council had summoned him, when he'd left Sabé at Padmé's apartment, they had spoken of a notorious criminal mastermind, Moralo Eval. They had heard word that the unstable Phindian was planning to kidnap Chancellor Palpatine, and there was a chance that Obi-Wan would be needed in the operation to stop the plot. Eval had been captured, however, and it seemed as though it had died down. But when he'd received an urgent message from Master Yoda, Obi-Wan had known that it wasn't over.

"Has he escaped?" he asked.

"No," Mace assured him, "but we suspect that his plan has been set in motion regardless."

"In grave danger, the Chancellor is," Yoda growled, gripping his walking stick as it lay across his lap.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What can I do?"

Yoda and Mace exchanged a grim glance. "Have need of your skills, we do," Yoda told him. "The Negotiator must handle this."

"We need you to go undercover," Mace enlightened him. "As a bounty hunter. You'll join Eval's gang and report his plans back to us."

"How will the Jedi explain my absence?"

"That's where things get…complicated," Mace admitted with a cynical look. "You'll need to get yourself killed. We'll send you after a bounty hunter as soon as we can. Then you'll take his place."

"And Eval will accept him because he's killed a Jedi," Obi-Wan finished, cupping his chin in his hand.

"Exactly."

"What about Anakin? And Sabé?"

"Only the Jedi Council will know about this," said Yoda sternly.

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to find the most polite way of objecting. "That…seems cruel, Masters. To fool them like this."

"If the story is to be believed," Mace insisted, "young Skywalker's reaction must be genuine. His friendship with you is well-publicised. Nothing must seem off."

"I understand the reasoning," Obi-Wan told him with reluctant acceptance. "Anakin isn't the best at controlling his emotions. But what about Sabé? This affects her most of all."

"The same reasoning would apply to her."

"Despite the speculations they publish, the HoloNet is well aware that Sabé and I have a marriage of convenience only," Obi-Wan argued. "They won't expect the same level of reaction from her. They don't even know that we were friends before we married."

I don't want her to suffer through this, he reflected. Considering how she really feels…I wouldn't want the galaxy to see her pain and make cruel guesses.

"Even so," Mace intoned in his customary stern drawl. "It's unwise to bring her into this plan."

"She has a right to know!" Obi-Wan said, surprisingly fiercely. "The only reason she entered into this marriage is for protection, she deserves to know that that protection isn't lost."

Mace exchanged a long look with Yoda, whose wizened face betrayed nothing of his thoughts on the matter.

"More regard for your wife, you have," Yoda mused, "than you seem to think, Obi-Wan."

"I made her a promise, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan replied simply. "I intend to keep it. It is my duty to see that she remains safe until Senator Amidala can repeal the law."

Both Yoda and Mace seemed appeased by his sound reasoning, although Obi-Wan could sense that the topic was not closed permanently.

Mace raised a slanting eyebrow. "Whether you tell her the truth or not, the rest of the galaxy will see her as a widow."

"We can draw up a document that we can both sign declaring that in the event of my death she must observe three standard months of mourning before she remarries," Obi-Wan said. "Even if this mission overruns, it certainly won't extend that long."

Yoda nodded thoughtfully. "A sound plan. But despite your marriage of convenience, watched her reaction will still be."

"Sabé is a gifted actress, Master. She once fooled many people into thinking she was the Queen of Naboo. I would not suggest it if I did not think she could handle it." Obi-Wan held Yoda's wise, scrutinising gaze and waited, confident in his arguments.

"Very well," the Jedi Master declared at length. "Right, you are, that you have a duty to her protection. But an easy path, this is not. Lie to her friends, she must."

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. "I believe she can do it. I'm confident that her gratitude in knowing that she's still safe will counter any difficulties she has in fooling those around her."

Mace closed his eyes and sighed, waving a hand. "I will trust your judgement on this, Obi-Wan. I barely know her."

"When do we put this plan into action?" he asked.

"When it is time, let you know, we will," said Yoda.

Obi-Wan bowed his head, then stood. "In that case, if you'll excuse me, Masters. I have some planning to do."

Sabé found it easy to cry over Obi-Wan's fictional death, knowing the dangers he would be stepping into in the shoes of a bounty hunter. Padmé and Gregar's distress made her feel so incredibly guilty, but she had no choice but to accept the comfort they offered her. Padmé demanded that she take the spare room, which she agreed to do. She knew it might not be safe for her to remain in her own apartment, and truthfully, she didn't want to stay there without Obi-Wan. She suspected she would feel his absence all the more if she went back there. Not knowing how long he might be away was the worst part.

In the days that followed the news of his death, Sabé went through the motions that her job required, trying to strike a balance between being upset but not heartbroken. When alone with Padmé, who knew her secret, she showed a little more emotion. She wasn't sure how much Gregar knew, but she imagined he guessed quite a lot, so she allowed herself to be more distraught around him too. It was draining work.

She and Padmé were invited to the funeral at the Jedi Temple, along with Duchess Satine, who made a special trip, Chancellor Palpatine, and a few of Obi-Wan's other non-Jedi associates. The HoloNet snapped them on their way in to the Temple, and Sabé did her best to seem subdued but calm.

The service itself was difficult to bear. It wasn't hard to imagine it might be real, especially when she was surrounded by so much genuine sorrow. Her tears slipped down her cheeks, but she maintained her composure. Duchess Satine, on the other hand, openly sobbed, and Sabé felt a fresh wave of guilt. Anakin glowered at the floor from underneath his hooded robe, a catalyst of poorly-concealed pain and anger. From Padmé's tense posture beside her, she surmised that her friend was deeply concerned about her husband's stability.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, Sabé pondered.

After the service, Padmé invited the mourners back to her apartment for drinks and reminiscing. The Chancellor and most of the Jedi declined her offer, but Anakin and Ahsoka accepted, joining Satine and the others.

"Lady Sabé," Mace Windu said, approaching her. "Master Yoda and I would like to talk to you about your ongoing safety."

Sabé nodded, having been expecting it. "Of course, Master Windu." To Padmé, she said, "I'll meet you back at the apartment."

Padmé furrowed her brow. "I'm not letting you travel alone."

"We will send someone to escort her," Mace Windu assured her. "You have my word."

Having no choice but to accept it, Padmé inclined her head. "Very well." She shot a look to Sabé, who tried to convey that she would be fine, then departed with her guests.

Sabé accompanied Yoda and Mace Windu through the Temple's spacious corridors, soon finding herself in a wing she'd never visited before. Mace Windu moved the doors aside with a wave of his hand, revealing a clinical, bright medical centre. Obi-Wan was there, sitting on the bed, flanked by a medical droid.

Sabé couldn't help smiling when she saw him. After all the pretence, it was a comfort to see him still alive.

"So, how was my funeral?" he asked.

"A better performance than you, your corpse gave," Yoda told him lightly.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean? I fell from the top of a building. I could have killed myself."

Sabé frowned, aware of the truth of his statement.

Yoda scrutinised him. "Survived worse, you have. Young Skywalker knows this."

"I took the vitals suppressor as instructed," Obi-Wan told him. "I was dead to the world when Anakin moved my body. There's no way he could know I was alive."

"Not know. But sense, he will, that something is not right."

Sabé didn't think that that was a bad thing, judging by Anakin's reaction to Obi-Wan's 'death'.

"You said yourself, keeping Anakin on the outside was critical," said Obi-Wan intently. "Everyone knows how close we are. It was his reaction that sold the sniper. I'm sure of it."

"What's done is done," Windu sighed.

Obi-Wan caught Sabé's gaze. "So. How was the funeral? Really?"

"Horrible," she replied at once. "Seems you have a lot of people who respect and care for you. You've managed to upset all of them."

"That was quite impressive of me," he muttered, although she could tell his light tone was more for the benefit of Yoda and Mace Windu. He was troubled to have caused his friends distress. "And how are you holding up?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Me? Fine. I'm in mourning for my convenient husband."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," he said, offering a small smile.

"So am I. You know my parents want to come here?"

"Ah…sorry about that."

"Come on," Mace Windu interrupted. "We need to get your transformation underway."

Obi-Wan nodded with an air of slight reluctance. "Well, time for a shave."

At his words, the droid raised one of its arms to his head, cutting thick lines into his hair, slowly rendering him completely bald.

"Have there been any updates since I was out?" he asked.

"A few," said Windu. "As you know, we approached Eval to part with details of his plot but he was uncooperative. Since then it has emerged that the kidnapping is rumoured to take place during the festival on Naboo."

Sabé glanced at him sharply, surprised. "The Festival of Light? That's only three days from now."

"That doesn't leave you much time to gain his trust," Windu said with a frown.

"After we break out of prison together, I imagine we'll be the best of friends," Obi-Wan muttered dryly.

"Wait," Sabé said, holding up a hand, "what prison?"

"You don't think Anakin will let my murderer go free, do you?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "Well, no, but…from what I just saw of his mood back there, he's more likely to kill you than capture you."

Yoda rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Correct, you are. Ground him, his Padawan must."

"Any details that might help me gain Eval's trust while I'm in prison?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He killed his mother when he was only a boy," Windu told him. "He told the authorities he did it because he was bored."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan mused. "I'll try not to bore him."

"Not a game, is this, Obi-Wan," Yoda scolded. "The risks…great they are."

"Yes, but so are the rewards." The droid moved away, and Obi-Wan ran his hands across his bald head and smooth jaw line as he spoke. "Besides preventing Eval from abducting the Chancellor, he could lead us to Grievous. And possibly Dooku himself."

Sabé took in the strange sight of him, hairless but for his eyebrows. She'd almost forgotten what he looked like without the beard, although she preferred him with hair, given the choice.

"Facial transformation program loaded," the medical droid informed them, bringing up the details of the bounty hunter that had shot Obi-Wan on the holo screens.

"I take it there's no way to have the Chancellor pull out of the festival?" Obi-Wan asked, shifting to lie down on the bed.

"No," said Yoda at once. "See it as a sign of weakness, he would."

"Plus he's showing strong support for Naboo since the Order murders began," Sabé added.

With a put-upon sigh, Obi-Wan let the droids hold his head steady, while a syringe was aimed at his neck. Sabé winced, although she wasn't sure why.

"Transformation initiated," the droid reported.

Obi-Wan began to convulse, letting out rasping cries of pain. Sabé darted forward, but halted just shy of the bed, unsure what she could do. Fortunately, Mace Windu had also reacted, which made her feel less conspicuous.

In less than a minute, however, it was over, and Obi-Wan sat up, hands covering his face. When he lowered them, he was a different man. His face was thinner, more gaunt, his features heavier, his skin an unhealthy grey pallor. A spiralling red tattoo covered his left cheek, spreading up over his eyelid to his forehead. His eyes, although still blue, were less vibrant, and dark stubble covered his chin.

Sabé met his gaze, trying to see anything of Obi-Wan Kenobi in his face. She tried to smile, but it felt like a poor effort.

"That was unpleasant," he announced with feeling. His voice was unchanged, which was rather surreal. "How do I look?"

"Like someone who's capable of killing a Jedi," Sabé told him.

"Good."

"Need the real Rako Hardeen's clothes, you will," Yoda reminded him.

"That won't be a problem," Mace Windu said. "He's due to pick up his payment tonight."

"How long will this transformation last?" Obi-Wan asked.

"It's permanent until we initiate the reverse procedure."

Sensing that their goodbye was fast approaching, Sabé gained stronger control over her fear and concern. She had to trust that he'd be okay. They'd already worked out the details of her situation. It would be suspicious for her to have another Jedi protector without the excuse of the marriage, so she would stay with Padmé where there was safety in numbers. A Jedi would shadow her whenever she ventured outside, just in case.

"The Festival of Light will take place in the grounds of Theed Palace," she spoke up. "If you need any details about the location, let me know. I know every corner of it."

"I'll try and send word if I can."

She nodded. "I should get back to Padmé's apartment. Good luck." She wanted to say more, but was mindful of their audience.

Obi-Wan held out his arm, as if he wanted to shake her hand. A little puzzled, she stepped forward and took his hand. At once, she felt the tiny object he was pressing into her palm. Her eyes met his changed ones, his gaze intense.

"Be safe," he said simply.

"You too."

"I'll do my best."

Sabé slipped her hand out of his, curling her fingers around the object. She nodded to Yoda and Mace Windu, both of whom nodded back without showing any suspicion over what had just happened.

"Master Secura will escort you back to Senator Amidala's apartment," Mace Windu told her.

"Thank you, Master Windu." Obi-Wan's parting gift held securely in her fist, Sabé took a moment to school her expression into one of grief. It wasn't difficult to do. Then she headed out into the corridor.

Spending time with the mourners was difficult, especially considering that all Sabé wanted to do was listen to Obi-Wan's message. The object he'd passed her was a holo chip, but she hadn't found a single peaceful moment to play it. She was not surprised when Anakin and Ahsoka left early, knowing that they'd no doubt had word from Mace Windu. By now, the real Rako Hardeen was in Jedi custody, Obi-Wan firmly in his place.

She sat and watched the chrono until she could excuse herself and go to her room. Padmé didn't question her strangely-early night, for which she was thankful. Blissfully alone, she locked the door and slipped the chip into her holo reader. Obi-Wan's figure materialised before her.

"Sabé," he began. "By the time you see this, I'll no doubt be playing the part of someone else. I hope everything is going well. I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I have faith in your abilities. When I can, I will contact the Temple to update them on the mission's progress. My com's frequency is 164.42. Don't contact me, but please tune your headset to this frequency only. That way, I can get in touch with you if I need to." His image hesitated, looking a little uncertain. "The Council doesn't want me giving you this information, but… Let's just say, I've been led to believe I know better on this one. I've asked Master Yoda to bring you in after the funeral. Hopefully, I can slip this chip to you then. In the meantime, stay vigilant. I know you will. I'll see you soon." The image flickered and vanished.

Sabé sighed, removing the chip and snapping it in half before she was tempted to keep it. She reached for her com, changing the settings and slipping it into her ear. It was silly, but she felt better for it, as if she had some kind of tie to him, wherever he was.

Now all I have to do is wait, she told herself. What an impossible task it seemed to be.

All the guests had gone by the time Anakin returned to the apartment. Padmé was still up. She'd anticipated that he would come. He needed her support, she could see that quite clearly.

"He's in jail," he muttered to her in place of a greeting.

Padmé tried to curb her surprise that Anakin hadn't killed the man then and there. "That's good," she said simply.

"Is it?" he snapped, turning to her, the pain twisting his features. "It's more than he deserves. If it were up to me…but…that's not what Obi-Wan would have done."

"No," she agreed, pleased to hear about what he'd done and why.

"How is Sabé?" he asked.

"She's upset, but she'll be fine. He was her friend for a long time. We'll all miss him." She felt a wave of sorrow, partly her own pain, partly compassion for Anakin and Sabé, who she knew were suffering far worse than they were letting on.

"He was the best man I ever knew," Anakin said, his voice cracking. "How am I supposed to go on without his guidance?"

"He'll always be with you," Padmé soothed, rubbing his back. "The Jedi believe in the living Force, don't they? So he'll always be a part of you."

"But I don't feel him anywhere?" Anakin burst out. "It's like…he's just…gone. When my mother passed it was tough," he said quietly. "But eventually I felt like there was closure there. This…isn't enough."

Padmé fell silent, well aware that the closure he spoke of had been the slaughter of an entire village of Tusken Raiders.

"Not every death is the same," she told him gently. "It will get easier, I promise you."

Anakin said nothing, staring at the floor as Padmé traced patterns on his back. She wasn't sure how long they sat like that.

"I should get back to the Temple," he said eventually, sighing as if he had the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything."

He managed a watery smile, raising a hand to her cheek. "You've already done plenty."

Padmé tried to smile too, covering his hand with her own. "Go on, go and get some rest. I'll see you soon."

"I love you."

She nodded. "So you should," she replied.

Anakin grinned tiredly, bidding her goodnight before leaving. Padmé drew her legs up under her chin, sitting there in the dark for a long while before she stirred herself into moving upstairs. She had a Senate session to attend tomorrow. She hoped and prayed that Sabé would be up to it.

Padmé and her entourage were waiting for their speeder outside the Senate, having just sat through three hours of bickering. Sabé and Teckla were flanking her, their dusky purple gowns complimenting Padmé's dress of sleek blue-grey silk. Padmé was busy chatting to Senator Organa, going over some of the major points raised in the session. Gregar stood beside her, keeping an eye out for their ride, two of his officers stationed at an unobtrusive distance. Sabé was happy just to stand in the fresh air. She had a pounding headache, but it was strangely freeing. Everyone seemed to put her quiet mood down to grief.

"Excuse me," came an unfamiliar voice at Sabé's back.

She turned, Teckla mirroring her move, discreetly letting the vibroblade in her sleeve slip down into her palm.

"Can I help you?" Sabé asked politely.

The speaker was a young human woman, about Padmé's age, willowy and slim with close-cropped black hair and deep brown eyes accentuated by dark make-up. Her boots and leggings were smart but functional, and she wore a flowing cream tunic cinched with a practical belt that had seen better days. The tunic was loose enough to conceal small weapons.

"Is Moteé with you?" the woman wanted to know.

"No," Sabé told her. "Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of hers. My name is Nadini."

"Are you the one she's been visiting?" asked Teckla suspiciously. "She told us you were sick."

"I was," Nadini said.

Sabé tightened her grip on her vibroblade, keeping her hand out of the woman's line of sight. "We were given to understand that your illness was incurable."

Nadini dropped her gaze awkwardly, adding quietly, "It is. It…comes and goes. On good days I like to get out of the house." She glanced up, pasting on a small smile. "I was hoping Moteé could meet me for lunch."

Neither Sabé nor Teckla said it, but they were both aware that Moteé had told them she was making another visit that morning. Either Moteé was lying, or Nadini wasn't who she claimed to be.

"She's working," Sabé said. "But we'll tell her you asked after her."

Nadini gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that. I won't keep you any longer." She nodded to them both, spun on her heel and sauntered off in the direction of the Senate building.

Sabé exchanged a glance with Teckla, whose expression betrayed her wariness.

"Guess we need to speak to Moteé," she spoke up.

Sabé nodded in agreement. "Something is definitely amiss."

"Are you two coming?"

They turned, seeing that Padmé's speeder had arrived and the senator was already boarding.

"Sorry, M'lady," Teckla apologised, hurrying to join her.

"What was all that about?" Gregar asked as Sabé approached the vehicle.

"Tell you later."

Back at the apartment, there was nothing to do but continue with the day's chores and wait for Moteé to return. Padmé spoke to Jago and Luma over the com, and Teckla sat in to take notes. While they were there, Sabé relayed everything to Gregar, who agreed that the encounter with Nadini was unusual to say the least. Moteé was not due back until evening.

Sabé was on kitchen duty for dinner that day. Padmé had wanted to lessen her duties, but Sabé insisted on being kept busy. As See-Threepio bustled around her, taking crockery to the dining room, Gregar appeared in the doorway. Sabé noted his expression at once. A dart of cold dread shot through her heart.

"No," she muttered.

He looked at her with compassion, saying gently, "There's been another murder. A young lady named Keelé. She arrived here this morning from Corellia and was killed earlier this afternoon at her hotel. A service droid found her."

Sabé swallowed, her mouth dry. "And…Daedrin?"

"At the Senate most of the day. It was the accomplice."

She had run out of things to say that she had not already said.

"Just when we thought it had died down," Gregar sighed.

"We never thought it had ended, though," Sabé pointed out.

"True. I'll let Padmé know when she's done with her conference call. Moteé should be back by then too."

There was a beat of silence, then Sabé and Gregar glanced up at each other, both wearing the same wide-eyed look of disbelief. Sabé and Moteé didn't always get along, but she didn't want to believe that a fellow handmaiden could turn against the Order. There was no denying that the circumstances were suspicious, however.

"I don't want to think it of her," Sabé said, wrapping her arms around herself, "and on a planet this populated, it seems absurd to think that the answer is on our doorstep, but…"

"We can't rule it out," Gregar finished for her.

"No."

"She should be back soon," he said, looking at his chrono, "we can confront her then. Gods know, I don't want to have to do this, but we'd be remiss if we didn't."

"You'd better have some officers standing by. Just in case. She's one of the best warriors I've ever seen."

"Agreed."

But it was not to be. Not fifteen minutes later, the HoloNet exploded with the news of a mass prison break. Among the prisoners missing: Moralo Eval, Cad Bane and Rako Hardeen. Sabé was not personally familiar with Bane, but she'd heard enough to know that his escape meant trouble. The com in her ear stayed irritatingly silent.

Anakin arrived at the apartment before Moteé, insisting on ranting at Padmé, who did her best to soothe him. In a glance, Sabé and Gregar silently agreed that Moteé could wait. They'd just keep an eye on her until the right moment arrived.