Chapter Nineteen

In which the lines between enemy and ally are blurred...

Sometimes Leia forgot that she was only known as Danae when she was in the Senate, and it took a few moments before she remembered to respond to the name. But the more she introduced herself, the less she thought of herself as Leia Naberrie. Even her master rarely called her by her given name; she was most often affectionately referred to as "my apprentice" by Razvan.

She had come to realize a few things about her slightly eccentric master over the last two years. He was obviously estranged from their fellow Jedi. Although he had taken her to the Temple once, dressed as any of the other masters, he hadn't exchanged more than strained-but-courteous greetings with the others who they passed. Afterwards, this new Temple had seemed too cold and distant compared with Dantooine for her to ever be comfortable there; it was easier to stay with her rescuer, and let him lead her back to the city district near the Senate that she was already beginning to think of as home.

There was something else too, something about being around Razvan that made her feel special. Not even six years old, and he'd chosen her to become his apprentice. And now he was trusting her with her own part in their mission, the full details of which she did not completely understand but still accepted whole-heartedly. All she knew was that Amidala did not trust the Jedi, and it was her job to restore that trust over time.

She smiled warmly as the Chancellor entered the office, followed closely by a dignitary from Alderaan. "I just don't understand why we aren't considering all possibilities. The Jedi--"

"Are peacekeepers," Padmé cut in, "not politicians. We don't need to bring them into this."

The man -- Bail Organa, if Leia recalled correctly -- sighed wearily. "And what is this that we've entered into, exactly? You can't just call it squabbling anymore, not after that debate we just heard."

"It's been a long time since the Senate has needed to elect a chancellor." Padmé sat facing Bail, although he remained standing. "I was nominated with no serious opposition, and Palpatine presided for almost thirteen years before me. People are ready for change, and everyone seems to have two opinions on the matter. I just hope the infighting settles down in time for an election."

"It certainly doesn't seem likely, not without you endorsing a candidate." He put up a hand to stop her protest. "I know-- it shouldn't seem as though you are merely passing on the mantle of office to one who supports all the same ideals. But you're well respected, Padmé, and the people would listen to you."

"That's just it, Bail. They shouldn't follow blindly. It's the same trap we fell into during the Clone Wars."

For a long moment the senator's face was creased with worry, and then he gave an unexpected laugh. "Listen to us, Padmé. I think age has effected our optimism."

"Or perhaps our wisdom." There was a slight answering smile at the corners of her mouth. "What happened to us? We grew up with so much idealism..."

"We grew up in troubled times, and we spent some of the most formative years of our lives at war. Of course we were idealists. We wanted to change things."

"And now we have."

And now the next generation gets a shot, Leia thought. Now I get to change things.

And I think I know exactly where to start.

"Approaching coordinates, Master Skywalker."

"Buckle in, then. The jump back to realspace can be a bit sharp."

Luke slid out of the co-pilot's chair and moved to the jump seat, while Perun took the now vacated space with Cy on his lap; she was too small for any of the safety restraints, and Anakin seemed to think they would need them.

Re-entering realspace was Perun's favorite part of travel, since it usually meant they had reached their destination and he would be free of the confines of the ship. No such luck now, of course. They might be searching for a while too; there were no life signs anywhere in the immediate area, and he figured that even Grievous would need to project a weak one--

Something smashed into their rear deflector shield, making Perun lurch forward and in turn causing Cy to scream. Anakin swung sharply to port, bringing the viewport around just in time to see the pointed tail of a ship trying to maneuver behind them again.

"That's a Firespray," Luke said, fighting his restraints for a better view. "Patrol and attack craft."

"Attack?" Perun asked sarcastically, "Really? I hadn't noticed." The Padawan was currently having his own problems, trying to settle a squirming Cy so that he could see the control panel.

"Does it have a call sign?" Anakin was too busy flying, turning haphazardly to avoid putting them back in the path of the Firespray, to look at the computer.

"It does."

"Do you recognize it?"

"Unfortunately."

When the Clone Wars had ended, a list had been compiled of the ships and their mercenary pilots who had aided the Separatists, and Perun had spent so much time looking it over that every one of those numbers was firmly affixed into his memory. "326-Jenth-38-Besh.27," he said. "Slave I."

"Brilliant." Anakin executed a spiral that made Perun's stomach roll. "A bounty hunter. I take it that means we're clear to shoot back."

"I'd say so." Perun began powering up the forward guns. "They're coming around for another pass."

"I see it." Anakin clenched his jaw as he analyzed the situation, taking in the trajectories of the two ships, their speed, and their likely power of attack all in a half-second. "She's going to catch us. Bring the left deflector shields up to full power."

"Yes, Master -- Ah! Stop that, Cy!" Having apparently caught sight of the other ship in the viewport, the girl had chosen that moment to turn herself around and bury her face in Perun's shoulder. He tried to reach around her, but her grip on his tunic impeded his extension. Another round of laser fire brought their defensive shields down to 60%.

"I said full power!"

"I'm trying!"

"I can help!" This time, Luke did release his seat restraints and scramble over to stand between Anakin and Perun. "Let me help!"

"You want to help? Fine." Perun half-lifted, half-pushed Cy off of his lap. "You can hold her."

But all this resulted in was further chaos, as Cy latched herself onto the edge of Perun's seat and refused to let go. Luke tried to move her, but her grip proved to be remarkably strong for a three year old, and Perun finally had to tell Luke to stop pulling before he dislocated Cy's shoulder. And Anakin was still twisting the ship through evasive maneuvers, trying to catch Slave I on an angle where they could return fire.

And then something in his face changed subtly, a determined look flashed across his eyes, and he changed course again to follow a third blip that had just appeared on the computer screen.

"Get a targeting lock on Grievous," he said in an almost deadly calm voice. "That's our priority right now."

"Really? I would think our priority was not getting blown out of the sky." Despite his comment, Perun did as he was told; it took a minute of fumbling with the system before he added, "Kriff computers," and switched to a manual targeting mode. He kept one eye on Grievous and the other on the computer, watching the closing distance between them and the Firespray with no small amount of trepidation.

Then, instead of coming straight on and attempting to catch them in the pincer movement that Perun had expected, Grievous veered off course, lasers bursting from the ship's turrets as he went, so that his next round of fire went to Slave I.

"Okay," Perun muttered, "now which one do we shoot at?"

"Both?" Anakin suggested. His eyes were following Grievous' one-man fighter, who was now twisting up onto the planes of its side, now flattening out and turning again, avoiding Slave I's returning fire. One of the bolts shattered the transparisteel of the cockpit, but Grievous, protected by his durasteel exoskeleton, remained unfazed by the vacuum of space. It also left him vulnerable.

There was a very large part of Perun that wanted to shut his eyes and not watch as Anakin took them speeding into the center of the dogfight, but he fought the impulse and focused on keeping the Eta in the sights of the targeting lock. They flew past Grievous once, and Perun swung the guns from their usual forward facing position so that he could shoot at the bio-droid. Then Anakin doubled them back around to come up on Grievous' other side--

But they came in too close, head on with the open fighter. Perun caught the briefest flash of a sneer in the yellow eyes before Anakin pulled up sharply-- and then the ship bucked as Slave I's lasers finally hit their left stabilizers, and even Anakin looked slightly panicked for a moment. They jerked rather haphazardly to the left, spiraling away from the fight with both ships closing too fast for Perun's liking.

Cy had gone from screaming to crying. Luke reached out and tried to put his arms around her, as much for his own stability as for her comfort, but she pushed him away with a touch of the Force, and he fell against the control panel with a slight yelp of his own, one hand outstretched over the switch that controlled the sublight engines--

Silence fell over the ship as the stars suddenly elongated around them again, and the cabin was flooded with the familiar blue-white light of hyperspace. Even Cy stopped sniffling and looked up at them with wide, frightened green eyes.

Finally, Anakin turned to Luke, and if Cy had seemed scared, it was nothing to the expression that flitted across the boy's face when Anakin spoke.

"What did you do?"

Boba Fett took several deep breaths before he switched on his comm system. He was not even sure that Grievous would receive communications with his ship in the condition it was in (unfortunate, but the bio-droid had left him with no choice). There was static at first, then a hazy image of a seething General Grievous.

"I had him," he said, yellow eyes narrowed behind the durasteel mask. "I had him, and then you--"

"No, General. I had him before you showed up." Boba kept all but the barest hint of frustration and annoyance from his voice, and was glad that his helmet hid any telling signs he might project otherwise. "You're lucky I didn't disintegrate you for getting in my way."

There was a long pause; the General coughed, and then disappeared as the hologram flickered off, returning Boba to a silent cockpit bathed in red light. A moment later, a distress call began to sound over the inboard computer. If there were any pirates in the area, they would flock to the damaged ship, hoping for loot; instead they would find only Grievous, lying in wait for another, working transport.

Boba did not wait to see how the commandeering would play out. The Jedi may have disappeared into hyperspace, but that didn't mean he was incapable of tracking them.