Chapter Sixteen
Stratagem
It was by far the strangest meeting that had ever taken place in the MedCenter conference room.
Instead of a contingent of Polis Massan doctors and medical droids, the room was entirely occupied by humans – and none of them could claim to be a doctor. They were arranged around one end of the oblong table dominating the center of the room, and each person's stance reflected some degree of contemplation or stress. The seven females shared numerous similarities in coloring and facial features, and at first glance, the pair of women seated side by side at the table's head were nearly identical.
There were also two men within the group. One, a light-haired young man, sat close beside the woman with curly dark hair, cradling a small bundle of white. The other was a bearded, middle-aged man with wisdom in his expression and the bearing of a warrior. He remained apart from the others – standing near the viewport and gazing absently into starlit space.
What he was really doing was monitoring the emotions of everyone in the room. Sans one.
Obi-Wan was trying very hard not to become frustrated with himself, but he was only succeeding outwardly. The feelings emanating from the others within the room were intermingling like coils of colored smoke, undulating and twisting around one another, and his perception was still in the process of repairing itself in the aftermath of Anakin's violent strike upon the Force. The emotions he was able to identify were hardly a revelation to the Jedi Master; confusion, agitation, and worry left strong impressions on the atmosphere inside the confined area.
But he did find that could discern the sources of several particularly vibrant feelings. Padmé, for instance, was a pool of still, crystalline water – radiating calm and assurance. Obi-Wan assumed that he could pick up on her Force signature because he had become more attuned to it over the course of the past few days.
The twins were obviously incapable of shielding their emotions from a fellow Force Sensitive, and thereby exuded everything they felt like bursts of bright light. Luke was brimming with contentment from his place in his father's arms, and Leia was abuzz with curiosity as she stared up into a face that resembled her mother's and heard an unfamiliar voice echoing in her tiny ears.
The Jedi Master's blue-grey eyes flicked across the other women's faces and rested momentarily on Anakin. With his son firmly tucked into the curve of his arm, a small grin seemed to be permanently affixed to his mouth as he gazed down at the tiny miracle. Yet true to his restless nature, Anakin's attention would drift every few seconds, and bright blue would flash briefly to Padmé, to his daughter, to the handmaidens…when eventually it touched on Obi-Wan's unmoving stare.
To the others in the room it would have seemed to be nothing more than a fleeting glance between friends, but that was not the case. In that one look, an entire conversation took place, based solely on intuition and the interpretation of one another's expressions.
Intensity burned fierce and hot within the indigo depths of Anakin's eyes – no longer tempered by the darkening shadows of the dark side – and Obi-Wan glimpsed the question that was consuming the younger man's thoughts, begging for an answer. Sea-colored orbs shifted tones of ash and cobalt like waves upon an ocean, and replied with expected composure as Obi-Wan gave a barely perceptible nod. His old Padawan blinked once, the straight line of his shoulders lowering slightly – and in near-perfect unison, the two brothers turned aside, ending their silent dialogue.
Padmé felt the warm, calloused fingers wrapped around her hand squeeze gently, and she knew that it was her signal to begin. Taking in one slow breath of cool, filtered air, she allowed all of her traits as a public speaker to assume control. "I want to thank all of you again for coming; it means more to me, and to my family, than I can say."
As soon as the first word left her lips, she became the focus of every pair of eyes within the conference room. Obi-Wan strolled casually to an empty seat beside Yané, whose erect posture stiffened just noticeably, though her gaze did not waver from Padmé. Ellé and Moteé were as serene as ever, and Rabé had her hands folded under her chin as she leaned over the gleaming tabletop, her rapt stare well remembered. Dormé, with Leia cradled in her arms, was gently rocking back and forth, her eyes soft and curious upon her old friend's face. Anakin's vivid, supportive stare gleamed blue in the corner of Padmé's vision, and it burgeoned the bubble of hope in her chest. Only Sabé remained as she was – leaning back in her chair on Padmé's immediate left, arms crossed nonchalantly over her stomach – but her dark eyes smoldered with interest.
"We face a galaxy trapped within the direst of circumstances," Padmé continued. "A Sith Lord has become the self-proclaimed ruler of known civilization, and has very nearly effectively eradicated the Jedi from the universe. He is also a serious threat to my children. They are the reason why he has fabricated my abduction by Master Kenobi, but I cannot allow them to fall into the Empire's hands."
She paused a moment to catch her breath, her heartbeat suddenly thunderous in the silence.
"My plan, quite simply, is this: Sabé," she gestured sideways, and Sabé's mouth tilted in a lopsided smirk, "will take my place on Coruscant, accompanied by two handmaidens of her choosing. She will return under the guise that Master Kenobi freed her after hearing of the Emperor's announcement, pleading for my release. He did not tell her where he was going or what he would do, only that he was deeply sorry for her involvement in this tragedy." Padmé eloquently shrugged one narrow shoulder. "A bit vague, I know…but the people will buy it. They have no reason to distrust me."
"And Sidious?" Anakin spoke up quietly, and Padmé wondered once again why he now insisted on calling Palpatine by his Sith name, "Will he buy it?"
She turned slightly to meet his eyes – and saw, or felt, or some combination of the two – his unceasing fear for her and the twins' safety, and the justification that fear needed to be quelled. She touched his cheek, lightly, with her fingertips. "He will be suspicious no matter what story I decide to give him. But I think he will accept it. For the time being." Her velvety brown eyes flickered with worry for a split second before it was concealed, but Anakin was not limited by what he saw when it came to his wife. Through their bond, he discovered the source. Her worry was not for herself or their family…but for the dear friend that would once again place her life in jeopardy for their sake.
And then the emotion vanished altogether as Padmé glanced sidelong at Sabé, a playful sparkle lighting up her expression as she said, "We'll go over the details of your 'performance' later."
Sabé replied with a full-blown grin, her teeth glittering in the starlight. "I can't wait."
Anakin looked over Padmé's head at her decoy in utter disbelief. Even he had a way of making light of a dangerous situation, but this… Sabé's blasé attitude over what she was willing to step into had him baffled. Did she fully understand exactly what she could be subjected to if she was exposed? It was not that he wasn't grateful for her participation – it was just that he knew how deeply Padmé cared for her, and how much it would hurt his angel if another was killed in her place. She still mourned the loss of Cordé, though the ache had been dulled by the passing years.
Fortunately, he and Obi-Wan were on the same page. His former Master's face was passive, but his voice reflected his skepticism as he remarked, "I hope that you comprehend the gravity of the situation you are preparing to enter, Sabé. This will be nothing like your time as decoy during the Trade Federation blockade. The Emperor has a very powerful command of the Force, and neither the restraint or the compassion of a Jedi. If you are revealed, he will use any and all resources at his disposal to wrest information from your mind – and that includes techniques within the Force for which there is little or no defense. Think carefully on your choice."
He had not meant to speak so bluntly, but there was something in Sabé's blithe expression that seemed surprisingly vulnerable. Obi-Wan really could not put his finger on it. Just that a part of him, deep inside, was flooded with an emotion he found he could not name at the mere thought of this bold, brave woman being at the mercy of a Sith Lord. Instead of examining the tangled threads of that unnamable feeling, Obi-Wan dismissed it as camaraderie, for Sabé reminded him of a younger Anakin – the fearless Padawan whose disregard for his own welfare – and his Master's – had often frustrated him to no end.
Padmé was staring at him with wide eyes, shocked by his words. Anakin's jaw flexed, and the Jedi Master knew that the younger man thought he had said too much, but they both knew that Obi-Wan was correct in his statement. But it was Sabé that captured his immediate attention.
Her lovely face – so like Padmé's and yet so very different – had drained of color, and her full lips were compressed into a hard line. Her carefree slouch had been replaced by a ramrod-straight pose equal to any soldier, and her almond-shaped eyes blazed with ferocious determination. Those dark eyes held Obi-Wan more securely than any chains as Sabé opened her mouth to speak.
"The training of a Naboo Royal Decoy begins in early childhood – not so different from your Jedi Order – though we do not have the Force to rely on during our exercises. I learned how to mimic phrasing, the turn of a head, the smallest twist of a finger. I learned how to carry a concealed weapon, how to mark a potential threat from a hundred yards away, how to switch roles with my Queen at a moment's notice. And I learned to put aside the fear for myself and focus instead on the protection of another. Not only the protection of one life, but also the countless lives that that one life affected. The fear I felt for me was insignificant compared to the fear of those who depended upon the one whose life I was sworn to defend – to die for, if needs be."
Sabé's voice was clear and cold, like the icy air of a winter's day, and it filled the conference room as grandly as any Galactic Senator's.
"You ask me if I comprehend the gravity of the situation – I do, perhaps even more than anyone else in this room. I am well aware of the risks involved, especially if I am discovered. But my training did not end when I became Padmé's decoy at the age of fourteen. A decoy must be like an anole, forever changing to blend in to their circumstances, because a decoy understands that her life is not as important as the life of the one whose shoes she must fill." She leaned forward, her gaze hard and unyielding. "I am not helpless – even against the power of the Force. And I have already thought on my choice. That is why I am still here."
The decoy and the Jedi Master stared at one another in the tense silence that followed. Obi-Wan felt frustrated, annoyed, and surprisingly impressed by Sabé's passionate testimony. Though he was not convinced in the slightest about her resistance of the Force, he had detected the faintest hint of challenge in those words, and in the way she held her chin upright – almost defiantly, like Anakin when he felt he had justifiable means for his actions. He had to admit to himself that he was tempted to accept that challenge; he could test her so-called defenses and subdue that inexplicable feeling in regard to her well-being, and also perhaps lay to rest the maddening arrogance dancing along the corners of her mouth.
Had Obi-Wan still been the brash, eager Padawan he had been when he and Sabé first met, he would not have hesitated to test her. But his Jedi Master passivity won out – in a way.
"Forgive me if I offended you, Sabé." Obi-Wan inclined his head formally, waiting to see the glimmer of triumph in her large brown eyes. To his mild bemusement, she blinked in surprise. He continued, "Before you depart, perhaps it would be beneficial to discuss your…additional training, particularly against Force powers. We may be able to better prepare you in the event of your capture."
"If that is your request, Master Jedi," Sabé answered just as formally. Padmé shot each of them a warning glare, and Sabé was the first to turn aside, throwing her friend a wide, childlike smile. "Shall we continue?" She fell back into her chair, the picture of casual ease once more.
Obi-Wan barely resisted the urge to shake his head in exasperation. Then he caught Anakin's eye. His old friend was watching him with a mixture of amazement and hilarity, and his blue eyes were bright and strangely expectant, as if something had occurred that he had been waiting to see for a long time. As soon as he felt Obi-Wan's gaze, Anakin's expression was swept clean of all emotion – though his eyes retained the tiniest sparkle of glee.
Padmé cleared her throat, dark eyes surveying her audience to ensure that everyone's attention had been restored to her, and resumed speaking – as if the interruption had not even occurred. "While Sabé and her team are inserted into Galactic City, the three remaining handmaidens will be dispatched to separate corners of the galaxy. These locations will be carefully chosen based on my personal travels and Jedi lore, and each handmaiden will journey under a pseudonym. If Sabé is revealed to be an impostor – " she barely resisted the urge to glance over at Obi-Wan – "each handmaiden will assume my identity in their specified location, and follow a convex path through several planets when and if they are detected by an Imperial scout. We'll have their whole Fleet running around in circles."
"Forgive me, Milady, but…" Rabé's expression was apologetic, but her intelligent stare was keen, "Though your plan is a sound one, I have spotted a large flaw. You may be seen on Coruscant and any number of other places, but what about your children? Even the Emperor must understand enough about humanity to question that a mother would part with her newborn. How will we account for their absence?"
The other handmaiden's faces swiftly darted from Rabé to Padmé, each one wondering how the plan may be adjusted, and how such an adjustment would be possible. There were no decoys for infants, and constant movement from planet to planet was extremely unwise with a baby in tow – their tiny bodies would not yet be accustomed to the inertia of hyperspace. One trip was possible, if ill advised, but several? Over the course of days, perhaps hours?
Padmé saw the doubt clouding each of her friend's eyes, and knew that she must respond quickly and confidently to assail their fears. "The Emperor is unaware that I have given birth to twins. But we can be certain that he knows that my child has been born, because Master Yoda sensed it through the Force from over 20 parsecs away." Her voice quieted, reflecting on her next words as she spoke, for it could have been her future – and a dark one, at that.
"As much as I hate to admit it, Palpatine knows me very well. He knows how to anticipate my reactions to specific events, and he knows many facets of my personality. With that in mind, he knows that I would never risk my child's safety just for my own selfish desire to remain with them." She then looked over at Obi-Wan, and saw the ghost of previous sadness lingering behind his storm-colored eyes. "And he would know that if I were to give up my child for their protection, it would be into the care of a Jedi."
The Jedi Master calmly took over the explanation. "The Emperor will expect Padmé's child to be under guard by a Jedi, because of their inherited strength within the Force. And he will expect that guardian to be either Master Yoda or myself, for we both have indisputable ties and reasons for training the child to become a Jedi. And he is vehemently opposed to that idea."
"Because he wants to train the child as a Sith," Ellé put in helpfully, looking at Padmé for approval.
"That's not the only reason." Sabé was staring down at the tabletop, deep in thought, and whatever she was thinking disturbed her greatly, for her hands were clenched in fists on either side of her ribcage so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "He doesn't want the Jedi to return because he is afraid. He is afraid that he doesn't have enough power to battle the son or daughter of Anakin Skywalker once he or she is a fully vested Jedi Knight." She looked up suddenly, and in one fluid motion turned to Anakin. Her piercing eyes brimmed with insight – and something akin to sympathy. "That's why he worked so hard all these years to make you doubt yourself, and the people you care for. He was terrified. Of you."
It was as if a great light had sliced through the oppressive blackness surrounding Anakin's memory of his deepest betrayal. Though he was still looking at Sabé, his ice-blue eyes were faraway as they revisited moments of the past with fresh acuity.
It made sense. It all made terrible, indisputable sense.
In his mind, Anakin watched every conversation, each interaction he had with the then-Chancellor as though he was an invisible observer – and realized that he had been utterly blind. Blind, foolish, and – if he was completely honest with himself – unbelievably naïve. Palpatine was a master manipulator, and with every word issuing from his mouth, he tugged on Anakin's emotions. Playing to his pride, his inflated sense of self-importance, and carefully undermining the fragile foundation of trust that his relationship to the Jedi, to Obi-Wan, and to Padmé was built upon.
With a burst of white light, his vision flashed to the observation deck of the Invisible Hand, and he was once more looking down at the frightened, grey-bearded face of Count Dooku, crossed bars of blue and red light heating the exposed skin of the Sith Lord's throat.
"Do it!" The voice, harsh and demanding, rasped like sandpaper in his ears.
It was a command, delivered as to expect immediate compliance. But now, there was more. Like peeling away the layers of an onion, the light that Sabé's hypothesis shed on those two syllables revealed something that Palpatine had never intended for Anakin to see.
Fear.
Fear that Anakin would not obey. Fear that Dooku would survive, and in retaliation for his Master's betrayal, unmask the Sith Lord before his many plans came to fruition. And then, Sidious would find himself at the mercy of the only man who had the power to defeat him – that was perhaps destined to defeat him.
"And in a time of great despair, there shall arise a Chosen One; with the Force as his ally he will restore the balance of the universe, and none shall be able to equal his power."
Anakin had heard the prophecy, and its many connotations so many times, that he had grown sick of it. In fact, there had been times when he wished, fleetingly, that he was not this fabled Chosen One – that he was just another exceptionally gifted Jedi, just another face among the histories of the Order.
It seemed that he had finally gotten his wish.
"…with the Force as his ally he will restore the balance…" Anakin was devoid of the Force, by his own doing, and he had no way of knowing if it would be returned to him.
He was no longer certain if he wanted it back.
So the prophecy remained unfulfilled, and it may stay that way for centuries. Maybe it would never come to pass. Surely Yoda and Obi-Wan together would be more than capable of overcoming the Emperor at the appropriate time…two Jedi Masters as powerful as them would be far stronger than Anakin alone…
And then he saw the bodies of Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin, and Agen Kolar lying like broken wax dolls on the crimson floor of the Chancellor's office. His stomach soured. Four Jedi Masters had not been enough against one Sith; why should Yoda and Obi-Wan be any different?
But I can't fight him now, Anakin beseeched into the void left by the Force. How can I fulfill the prophecy if I can't use the Force? There must be someone else to take his place. The Force could choose another, or even create another, as it had created him…
The thought rose – unwanted, unbidden – and it stabbed through his heart like a lightsaber blade.
Luke. Leia.
If there were any in the galaxy that could step into his place and assume the mantle of the Chosen One, it would be his children. What better choice would there be than the blood heir of the prophecy?
The injury to his heart flamed and burned his insides with rage. It was a familiar sensation, almost like a visit from an old friend whom he had not seen in some time, and for a moment Anakin embraced it. He would not allow the Force to claim one of the twins, his precious little stars, as its tool. He had attacked it once – he would find a way to do so again, to ensure that it would never steal his family away from him.
A sliver of clarity, like a trickle of ice running through heated caverns of lava, touched the edge of his vengeful thoughts.
The Force was not done with him. Though he had lashed out against it with every shred of power contained in his being, it had spared his beloved angel from death at his desperate entreaty. He had offered himself in her place; he would not have hesitated to shield her from harm by sacrificing all that he was.
Anakin felt as if he was turning a corner on the path of his life, and he could not yet see where it would lead. Something else had happened during that timeless moment besides the bonding of his soul to Padmé's. Obi-Wan was evasive when Anakin questioned him about what he had sensed, and the affection and respect in the Jedi Master's eyes was now tinged with the glimmer of awe – a faint representation of the worshipful stares that Younglings and Padawans had cast in his direction within the halls of the Temple.
Yet he understood that if the Force had not rejected him as the Chosen One, then there was no danger to his and Padmé's tiny hopes. And he could breathe again.
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Padmé was studying her husband's blank expression with mounting anxiety. She concentrated hard, her smooth brow furrowing with the effort, and tried to read Anakin's emotions by touching the place in her mind that seemed to resonate with his presence. At first she felt nothing except the blood flowing through her veins, the iron grip of worry closing tight around her heart… She focused harder, narrowing her perception by shutting out all other sounds, as Ani had briefly coached her just this morning.
"Imagine that we're sitting in our meadow on Naboo." His soft, earnest voice floated across her memory, and she once again listened to his instruction. "The waterfalls roar in the distance, the birds are singing, and the wind whistles through the grass. Now, put those aside and listen only to my voice. Imagine everything else falling silent – until the only thing you hear is me."
Padmé fell into the visualization as if it were a pleasant daydream, and again, touched their bond.
She instantly recoiled from the scalding fire of his rage, which had arisen so quickly that it appeared to have a will of its own. Padmé tried to draw closer, to find the center, where Anakin was undoubtedly trapped – but it was like standing before a blazing inferno, the intense heat shimmering in the air and blocking her path as solidly as a durasteel wall. She could not breach it, and she could not extinguish it.
So she tried a different tactic.
She stepped into the rage. She let the flames pass through her, licking at each nerve ending with blistering hostility as if she were a pile of kindling, and she winced at the sheer ferocity fueling the blaze. But to her amazement, the feeling did not consume her. Rather, it was as if some impenetrable barrier covered her conscious mind as it threaded its way into Anakin's psyche. Padmé wondered if it was her own mental defenses, or if, instinctively, Ani was protecting her from himself.
Finally, she reached the core of the firestorm – and it was dark, like deep space that had been emptied of stars – and fear washed over her, frigid and inescapable, and with such force that she gasped audibly.
"No," Padmé whispered in her thoughts, "Don't let it control you, Anakin. I'm here. We are strong together." She sensed him in the darkness, as though he were suddenly standing right beside her, and felt the fear pause as he listened to her soft prompting. And with a rush, wind howling in her ears, Padmé blinked – and the conference room swam into view. Like awakening from a deep sleep, she was disoriented, and some far, nearly hidden corner of her awareness glowed with newfound knowledge, though she had no idea what it was. The glow faded, almost as if it had been snuffed out – and Padmé recalled what had happened, where she was, and most importantly who she was. Ani had warned her that the first few times would be incredibly challenging on her untrained mind, but he promised that he would be there to help her regain herself.
Two blue stars burned into her eyes, and then her vision widened, the stars settling into the tanned, handsome face of her husband. Relief flooded her being, and she heard someone speaking. It was a voice she recognized, and it seemed abnormally loud as it rang from somewhere to her left.
"I am sorry if I spoke out of turn, Master Skywalker," Sabé stammered, displaying uncertainty for the first time since she had arrived. "I did not mean to –"
"It's all right, Sabé. You just made me realize something, and I was lost in thought." Anakin stated this calmly, without the slightest trace of that scorching rage Padmé had experienced. "And please, call me Anakin." Though he addressed Sabé, Anakin's gaze never strayed from Padmé, and there was unmistakable gratitude and pride shining in the depths of his indigo orbs. When he did turn to look at the decoy, his trademark smirk bowed his lips, and he remarked, "You're amazingly perceptive for a non-Jedi."
Sabé replied with a teasing smirk of her own. "It's my job to watch and listen for that which is unseen and unheard. People tend to forget that handmaidens are far more than simple companions."
Anakin chuckled under his breath, glancing down at the small form resting comfortably in the crook of his arm. Luke's tiny eyelids were closed, and his breathing was soft and deep. Anakin's smirk gentled into a loving smile, and he felt Padmé's thumb caressing the back of his hand, her slender fingers interlaced with his. It was then that he remembered the presence of the only functional Jedi in the room. His eyes darted upwards to find Obi-Wan at the far end of the table. His former Master wore the most peculiar expression.
Before Anakin could even begin to decipher it, Rabé – the most logic-based soul of them all – announced to put this meeting back on somewhat familiar ground, "So the Empire will not be expecting to take both Padmé and her child into custody at the same time. That makes our scenario more manageable."
Moteé retorted in her cool, unruffled manner, "But no less difficult. The Emperor has a great gift for subtlety. It has been my observation that he tends to wait for an adversary to make the first move, and then adjust his own before revealing any type of strategy."
"He won't directly approach me until he feels that he can anticipate my response," Sabé said, measuring the other handmaiden with speculative eyes.
"Exactly," Moteé nodded. "Which may give us more time to develop a false lead."
"To what end?"
Obi-Wan shifted in his seat to glance at the woman next to him. Her voice was quiet and melodious, but the tone seethed with suppressed tension. Yané continued to speak, keeping her stare locked on Moteé, while Obi-Wan slowly opened himself to the Force. "We have no army, no means of pitting ourselves against the combined might of the Empire. And there are no more Jedi to call upon for aid." Her eyes slid to the right to focus momentarily on Anakin – and he was shocked by the undisguised revulsion smoldering behind the onyx-colored pupils. But when he blinked, Yané's attention had returned to Moteé, who still appeared composed – though her cheeks had paled.
"Perhaps. I was merely offering a suggestion, not a probable course of action," she answered. Then she folded her hands demurely upon the tabletop and transferred her gaze to Padmé. Yané pressed her lips tightly together, as if to prevent words from escaping her mouth, and ignored the confused looks and outraged glares of her comrades.
Anakin was beyond perplexed. Why was one of Padmé's former handmaidens repulsed by him? She barely even knew him – and what she did know she had probably learned from the HoloNet, which was as reliable as a Toydarian merchant. Peripherally, he caught a glimpse of his wife's face, and it was frozen somewhere between incensed and empathetic. He did not know what to make of that, so he glanced over at Obi-Wan. The Jedi Master's eyes were dangerously narrow, peering from beneath the shadows of a heavily lowered brow. After a handful of seconds, the scarcely visible scowl evaporated, and Obi-Wan's hand rose to his beard, fingering it absently in contemplation. Anakin silently willed his friend to look at him, to give him some indication of what he had sensed emanating from Yané in the Force. The older man's gaze drifted idly about the room while Anakin fought to keep a tight rein on his impatience. Finally, Obi-Wan looked in his direction, saw the obvious question on his former apprentice's face, and merely offered an infinitesimal lift of his shoulders.
An uneasy silence followed Yané and Moteé's verbal sparring, and then a quiet, timid voice punctuated the stillness. "Milady?" Dormé appeared to be a little flustered at being the center of attention, but Anakin was relieved to see that she continued to cradle Leia with practiced ease. "I understand your plan and my place in it – so I have only one question." She waited until Padmé nodded before asking, "Where will you and your family be staying?"
Padmé hesitated just long enough to be noticeable. She glanced sidelong at Anakin, so swiftly that it was impossible to determine why she had done so, and drew in a deep breath. "Naboo," she replied – and braced herself for the onslaught.
The pandemonium of noise startled Luke awake, causing him to cry out – and Leia, suddenly overwhelmed by the emotional explosion, added her own piercing wails to the tumult. Everyone was speaking at once; Ellé was engaged in an argument with Rabé over Padmé's sanity in making such a decision, Dormé was attempting to hush the youngest Skywalker, and the remaining handmaidens' sentences stumbled over one another, so that their words made no sense whatsoever. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, while Anakin murmured soothingly to his newborn son, and Padmé and Sabé looked at each other simultaneously, shaking their heads.
Then Padmé held up one hand, palm outward, and every tongue stilled…save for Leia, whose wails had faded to the occasional whimper. "We will not head there until Sabé is successfully inserted on Coruscant. Hear me out, please," she ordered, when Rabé's mouth opened to protest. "Naboo is the last place Palpatine will expect me to go, though I am certain that the planet will be under surveillance – along with my parents, my sister, and her family. I do not go with a false sense of security. But the villa is completely isolated, and there are no records to trace its purchase, location, or ownership to me. Sometimes the safest place to hide is the one that is in plain sight."
Rabé could stand it no longer. This was totally illogical, and that bothered her immensely. "And how do you plan to land on Naboo?" she asked, trying to eliminate the sarcasm in her tone. "Port Control is surely in the hands of the Empire."
"We'll just avoid Port Control, then," Anakin replied coolly, his blue eyes hard and ice-cold. He did not appreciate the handmaiden's lack of confidence in Padmé's strategy. It was brilliant, and Rabé could not seem to grasp that concept.
"How?" she shot back, not the least intimidated by the infamous Jedi Knight. Anakin ground his teeth, mentally searching for an effective comeback. Unfortunately he was coming up short, and his old standard "I'll make it up as I go" was not the way to inspire trust. He had to improve at this critical thinking process as soon as possible, and not jump into unknown situations without the slightest inkling of what –
The idea hit him like a bolt of electricity.
"The Aiwha."
Sabé sat up slowly, warily, unfolding her arms as she stared at Anakin. "What?"
His face shone with a type of fierce joy at having found a solution to the problem before actually finding himself in the problem. "We switch ships. Naturally, Sabé should arrive on Coruscant in the skiff, because that's the one we escaped in. And," he gestured at the decoy, "you said that your ship has an EMP shroud, and that it blocks radar and sensors. We can use that to land on Naboo undetected."
She watched him for a moment, deliberating. "It works for me," she agreed with a shrug. Padmé beamed at him, and he experienced her approval as a warm breeze swirling inside his heart. The others nodded amongst themselves, though a slight frown darkened Rabé's features while she pondered any foreseeable snags with this new element to the plan – and found none.
"We know that the EMP shroud helped Sabé leave the Kuat system. I see no reason not to proceed with Mas– Anakin's recommendation," she corrected herself hastily.
Sabé lightly slapped her thighs with a sort of casual finality. "That's takes care of that. I think we've got our cards in order."
"One more thing." Padmé gripped the armrests of her hoverchair, and began to push herself to her feet. Both Anakin and Sabé moved to assist, but she waved them away with a jerk of her head. Once she was standing, every other person in the room found it impossible to look away from the regal portrait she presented. Illuminated by starlight, her expression was all at once soft and unyielding, and her voice was both compelling and serene. "You know what it is that I ask of you, and you also know that I cannot command you to participate – nor do I wish to. I offer each of you the choice. Should you choose not to aid us, you are free to leave. I trust every one of you with my life, and so I am certain that none of you would betray my trust. You may return home, or to your previous stations. But please understand this:"
Padmé leaned forward, dark eyes wide and full of hope, "I would not have asked all of you here if I did not think that we would succeed. And we will succeed. Every person in this room – this is the turning of the tide. I do not know why this fate chose me, why the people closest to me are the most important to the universe, but it did. I have done all I can for the ones I love. The rest is up to you."
Her legs were shaking from exertion, and she staggered backwards. Anakin caught her in his arms, guiding her into the hoverchair, but did not release her. Burying his face in her long, thick curls, he whispered, "You are amazing." He kissed her cheek and reluctantly withdrew, his eyes burning into hers. She held his adoring gaze, and jumped with surprise at the unexpected movement to her left.
Sabé had risen to her feet; bracing her palms on the tabletop, she leaned far over the gleaming wood surface, the tail of her braid falling over one shoulder and coiling onto the table. "Who is with us?"
Almond-shaped brown eyes scanned the area with sharp intensity, awaiting the first response.
"I am with you." Ellé spoke as though the words would burst out of her.
"I am with you," Moteé answered a heartbeat later. Ellé grinned widely at her counterpart.
"I am with you." Dormé was looking down at the tiny infant in her arms, and as she finished her eyes rose to both Padmé and Anakin.
"As am I," Rabé declared firmly. But she was not looking at Padmé. She was watching the only handmaiden that had not yet voiced her decision.
Yané sat as though carved from ice, her emotions warring with one another across her elegant face. Anger twisted her mouth, but her eyes were awash with unshed tears. Then, all of a sudden, Obi-Wan moved closer to the conflicted young woman and murmured quietly, though everyone was able to hear him in the silence, "We each have choices to make. We do not always choose wisely."
Yané's face crumpled. She flung a hand over her mouth, and bolted for the doorway, leaving a stunned audience in her wake. Anakin's head whipped sideways, and watched with dismay and confusion as a single tear cascaded from the corner of Padmé's eye.
"Dormé?" she said.
"Yes, Milady." The loyal handmaiden and friend came to her feet, passed a now-asleep Leia to Obi-Wan, who was too bewildered to respond, and followed Yané's path out of the conference room.
"Thank you all," Padmé spoke again, wiping the tear away with a fingertip. "I would suggest that all of you get something to eat and some rest. You'll have to stay on your ships, I'm afraid – Administrator Tuun is concerned that an overflow of humans to the MedCenter will look too suspicious. We will reconvene tomorrow morning at 0800." The handmaidens agreed in subdued tones, and began to depart. Padmé reached out and grabbed Sabé's hand, wordlessly urging her to stay, and her old friend promptly seated herself once more. Now the more complicated meeting would begin.
------------
As soon as Ellé, the last handmaiden to depart, closed the door behind her, Anakin was undone. Glaring at Padmé, Obi-Wan, and Sabé alternately, he demanded, "What was that about?"
"Ani, I'm so sorry." Padmé touched the keypad on an arm of her hoverchair and turned to fully face him. She placed both her hands on his forearm, lightly resting on the cords of muscle beneath his tunic as it supported the fragile body of their son. Her beautiful dark eyes mirrored the apology in her tone as she explained, "I thought about telling you earlier, but I was afraid that it would upset you, and I didn't want it to affect your thinking in regards to inviting her here as a member of this group." Padmé sighed heavily, and looked down at her fingers, curled slightly around his arm. "I wanted to give Yané a chance to reconcile with the past, but now…perhaps it was not the best idea."
"Perhaps," Sabé echoed, with the barest hint of teasing sarcasm.
Anakin managed to remain calm, though what he really wanted was to shout his frustration for the whole asteroid to hear. He hated being kept in the dark – that chafing notion that others around him knew things that affected his life while he was oblivious, whether purposefully or simply by chance. It was like growing up in the Jedi Temple all over again.
He inhaled slowly, and with tremendous mental effort – due in no small part to Padmé's ever-expanding influence – smothered the resurrected feelings of inferiority and irritation that had built within his spirit over the course of his Jedi training. When Padmé looked back up, he was firmly in control…or as much as he could be so she was not alarmed by what she sensed through their bond. "I think that now would be a good time to tell me," Anakin said evenly, but his voice shook just a little towards the end. Padmé's hands shifted against his arm, and that simple contact warmed him, serving as an anchor and pulling him towards less hostile emotions.
"Yané acted as my handmaiden until I began my second term as Queen. She then requested a position as Senator's Aide to assist Horace Yancil – my predecessor in the Senate and former Economic Advisor. I knew that Yané was deeply interested in the socio-economic climate, and she had a wonderful mind for learning. I released her from service in the Palace, and as soon as arrangements were made, she traveled to Coruscant with my blessing." Her eyes grew distant, reliving the past as she spoke, and was therefore unaware that Anakin and Obi-Wan were listening intently; Anakin, with a small, puzzled arch to his eyebrows, and Obi-Wan, with a slight frown.
"I received frequent holo-messages from her, and they were always filled with enthusiasm. She had gained so much knowledge and experience, she felt that she could finally make a real difference for the common people of the Republic through her work in the Senate." She laughed once, almost sadly. "Actually, her attitude was a lot like mine when I first entered public service. But in the last year of Senator Yancil's tenure, something happened to Yané. At first it was subtle; her opinions of the governmental system began changing, her messages became fewer and far between, and then I heard from Yancil personally. He told me that Yané was neglecting her duties as an Aide, and would vanish for periods of time. He was concerned for her safety – a Senator's Aide caught sneaking about the capital could be accused of spying. I promised the Senator that I would look into it, and sent my own message to Yané, ordering her to return to the Palace for an official debriefing."
Padmé paused then, arranging her thoughts, while Obi-Wan's frown grew more pronounced. Wherever the next step in her story led, Padmé appeared to be steeling herself for the aftermath, and that had him worried. She continued, "When Yané returned to Theed, she acted short-tempered and aloof – not at all like the eager, smart young woman that had left months ago. She was genuinely surprised when her "debriefing" was actually an invitation to lunch in my private quarters within the Palace.
And with no one else there but her and I, Yané shared with me her secret. She had fallen in love. I thought that reason was very anticlimactic, as well," she said in response to Anakin's expression, "so I kept silent and allowed her to continue. She was convinced that he loved her, too, but they both knew that it was a relationship that had no future. It simply was not permitted. I began to wonder what she meant. Certainly there are cultures represented in the Senate that frown upon romantic entanglements in the midst of galactic politics – but none of them consider it to be a punishable offense. And the way she spoke about the possibility of being discovered…I knew that the consequences would be severe. I asked her for his name, hoping that perhaps I could contact his local governing body and sort this whole thing out. 'Cian,' she said. 'Cian Wynn.'"
Obi-Wan's entire countenance darkened, his frown creating deep creases on his forehead as his eyes narrowed to slits. Leia stirred restlessly in his arms, disturbed by the Jedi Master's emotions before he contained them. Padmé glanced at him, then at Leia, and resumed her tale. "The name was unlike any I had heard before, and when Yané did not offer any further titles or descriptions, an alarm sounded in my head. As a monarch, I despised meddling in other's personal affairs – especially my handmaidens, whom I considered my close friends – but I refused to let the matter drop, though Yané repeatedly assured me that she would not disregard her work from now on. 'Where did you meet?' I asked her. It was a casual question, and one that I hoped would shed some light on the uneasiness I suddenly felt. She told me that he had been on assignment in the Senatorial Offices, delivering some formalities to a few Senators…" Padmé hesitated, her face clouding with concern as she studied her husband, "…on behalf of the Jedi Council."
Anakin felt the floor disappear from beneath him, and he tumbled in a noiseless vacuum of shock. There was no question that the man Yané had met and fallen in love with during her time on Coruscant was a Jedi. Was that why she hated him? No…if she was holding a grudge because of her own forbidden relationship, she would not have come to Padmé's aid. There had to be something else.
And it was obvious by his reaction that Obi-Wan had recognized the name of a fellow Jedi – but why did he know this Cian Wynn when Anakin did not? At least, he didn't think so. Something flitted at the murky edges of Anakin's consciousness, just out of reach. A memory that he almost recalled, yet a part of him urged the rest of his mind not to remember it. He struggled to regain his psychological footing and nodded once, wordlessly encouraging his wife to continue.
She watched him for another minute, gauging the feelings that were harbored inside his features and the cerulean irises of his eyes, and then took up the role of storyteller again. "I realized at that moment – just as you have – that Yané was in love with a Jedi. It was common knowledge to us all that Jedi were forbidden to love, and I was incredibly shocked by my friend's behavior – even more so by this man who claimed to be a member of the Order. I learned from her that Cian was a Padawan Learner, studying under Master Dalnus Cam and nearing his induction into Knighthood. But he carried some doubts in regard to the Jedi Order's seeming isolation from the daily life of the universe. He believed that a Jedi should have a more well-rounded understanding of the average being's passions and prejudices, and therefore experience a deeper connection with the Living Force – thus becoming a better Jedi, and one more willing to serve.
I could tell that it was those beliefs that gave Cian and Yané their familiar ground. They both wanted to serve the greater good of the common people, in their own individual ways.
After that first meeting, they conspired to discuss their thoughts with one another as often as they could, contriving many various means and locations. They became friends. It wasn't until around two months before I sent for her that Yané noticed a change within Cian. He seemed…uncomfortable around her at one moment, and then the next he could not seem to stay away from her. When she confronted him about it, he told her that he was no longer certain if he wanted to be a Jedi – because a Jedi cannot love. 'I refuse to surrender my feelings just because the Code says they are wrong,' he had said to her. 'How can what I feel for you be wrong?'"
Anakin lowered his eyes, his heart in a quandary. It seemed as though he and Cian had gone through the same heart-wrenching ordeal – torn between duty to their calling and the desires of their hearts.
He found himself wishing that he had met the other Padawan, maybe talked to him…and that strange fluttering sensation erupted again in the back of his mind. He gazed across the limited space between them at his precious angel, and knew that if given a second chance, he would have made the same decision all over again – to choose Padmé instead of loyalty to the Jedi Code.
Anakin laid his free hand on top of Padmé's knee and murmured soberly, "And that was when they became involved."
She nodded, her soul glimmering in her eyes, telling him how much she loved him. "Yané begged me not to tell anyone; Cian still felt that he had an obligation to his Master, whom he looked to like a father, and wanted to complete his apprenticeship. Then, he would make his final decision and either join the ranks of the Order as a Knight – or join his heart to hers."
Padmé released a breath, slumping a little in her seat. "As Queen, I should have commanded her to remember her people, her duty, and discontinue seeing Cian. But, as her friend…I told her that the decision was hers alone. She cried and hugged me and swore that everything would be all right – and I sent her back to Senator Yancil on Coruscant. I never heard another complaint about her work in the Senate, and after Queen Jamillia asked me to take Naboo's Senate seat, Yané was granted a higher position as an advisor to the Omwati representative. We spoke occasionally – but never broached any subject comprising the Jedi. Until the second assassination attempt on my life failed. Yané pulled me aside after the Senate meeting and whispered that she believed the Jedi would be called upon to protect me. I thought she was overreacting." Anakin stifled a laugh, and Padmé did not bother to conceal a grin. It faded as she observed, "And then I came to realize exactly what she and Cian faced." Husband and wife stared at one another in silence, reminiscing with perfect, painful clarity the emotionally charged days they had spent together in the weeks leading up to the Clone Wars.
Padmé's dark, velvet-brown gaze became strangely empty, and she recounted in a hollow monotone, "When the war started, Yané and I each had to bid farewell to the Jedi we loved, wondering when and if we would see them again. I debated internally many times if I should confide in Yané; perhaps we could comfort and bolster one another through the endless, nerve-wracking months. But my relationship with Anakin was the one thing that belonged to us – just us – and for that reason and many others, I did not share it with my friend. Both of us suffered in silence, and I learned to interpret the signs that accompanied Cian's homecoming. Yané would appear to change overnight – brightening like the sunrise after a moonless night – and she would be absent from the Senate proceedings for no more than two or three days, and then return. I often thought about approaching her after hours, as a friend, and asking if Cian had yet reached a decision in regard to his future as a Jedi." Her lower lip trembled slightly. "But I never got the chance."
Anakin squeezed her leg gently, wordless consolation conveyed in that small gesture, and it gave Padmé the strength to continue. "One day, I was checking over the battle reports and casualty lists, and came upon a stack of paperwork simply labeled 'Jabiim'."
Shards of ice thrust themselves into Anakin's chest, making it harder to breathe. Jabiim held many dark memories for him; the rain-soaked, grimy planet had claimed the lives of ten Jedi Padawans, all of whom Anakin had bonded with to form "The Padawan Pack", after each had lost their Master. Of course, Obi-Wan had been kidnapped by Asajj Ventress and was later rescued by Anakin himself and Ki-Adi-Mundi – but Anakin did not know he was even alive at the time.
Each of those Padawans fell in battle, one by one, until Anakin was left in command of the remaining clone troopers. He would have stayed and fought until the end…but Chancellor Palpatine issued a direct order, commanding him to lead the evacuation of Republic troops, calling Jabiim a lost cause. Anakin had been so distraught and lost; he used his anger to call upon the dark side in an effort to escape the riotous citizens.
Yes, Jabiim was the mud-spattered basin that held the blood of too many good Jedi.
"The first name on the Killed In Action list caused me to fall to my knees. Obi-Wan Kenobi. I could not bear to read the next name – I was terrified that I would recognize it, as well. How I prayed that it would not be his, that it would be anyone else other than my Anakin. It wasn't his name, but it was still one that I recognized. Dalnus Cam – Cian's Jedi Master. I quickly scanned the rest of the names, but his wasn't listed, either. I began collecting as much information as I could on the battle taking place on Jabiim, because I believed that both Yané and I had someone we loved fighting for their lives on its surface.
Days passed. Every report from Jabiim was filled with more and more deaths. I felt like my entire existence hinged on the edge of a knife. Then I received word that the GAR was evacuating troops from the planet, and that First Lieutenant Skywalker was in charge of the operation." A tiny smile graced her mouth, and she directly addressed her husband. "I knew then that you were safe. I had never felt more relieved in my life."
Padmé leaned forward and laid a butterfly kiss atop Anakin's nose. Her soft stare filled his vision for a brief instance, and then she settled back in her chair, the softness fading into profound sorrow.
"My source handed me the casualty list, and I was about to toss it into the recycler – there was no need for me to look at it anymore. Until the name right above my thumb caught my eye. Cian Wynn.
I yanked my arm away from the recycler and swiftly read the list. He was listed under Missing and Presumed Dead. I tucked the list into the folds of my Senate gown, and looked around frantically for Yané, wondering if she had heard the news – and if there was anything I could do to alleviate her pain.
But she was nowhere to be found. I questioned the Omwati Senator, discreetly, and she informed me that Yané had requested the day off, due to sickness. My heart dropped into the soles of my feet. I summoned Threepio, and asked him to let Jar Jar know that I would not be attending the meeting, and then I set off for Yané's small apartment.
About halfway there, I passed by the Jedi Temple…and something prompted me to stop. I redirected the airspeeder to the Temple's entrance, that strange feeling guiding me towards the main stairs. I remember every detail of that morning so clearly – the imagery is burned into my brain. The sun had just risen above the massive buildings, and the white marble steps seemed to glow underneath my feet. The massive statues of past Jedi hovered above me like giant sentinels, the sunlight illuminating their carved faces – and as I passed through the first row, I noticed a small, huddled figure hiding in the shadows of one of the statues. And I knew. I strode over as quickly as I dared, hiding behind the statue as well before I touched her shoulder. Yané jumped, but when she looked up and realized it was me…she completely broke down."
Tears trickled down Padmé's cheeks, and she did not bother to wipe them away. "I have never seen a heart so broken, before that moment or since. All I could do was hold her and let her sob, keeping watch for any prying eyes or wandering Jedi. We sat there together for a long time. Eventually, Yané pulled away from me, drying her tears with the hem of her cloak – and her expression died right in front of my eyes. It was like…her spirit – everything that made her who she was, just – disappeared. And she never spoke a word – not once. She simply clambered to her feet, inclined her head to me, and descended the marble steps.
She never looked back, even though I called out for her while ignoring the curious stares.
Afterwards, Yané was never seen on Coruscant again. She resigned her position in the Senate that same evening, packed her belongings and chartered a flight to the Mid Rim. I tried to follow her trail; she had been spotted on Naboo briefly, visiting her family, and then for some unknown reason, she headed to Telos – and that was where I lost her. Needless to say, she is very good at blending in to the masses. And I have not communicated with her until I sent my message two days ago, asking for her help."
Padmé exhaled, long and deep, and her gaze reflected her shame as she focused only on Anakin. "I can only imagine what she must have felt when I told everyone about us. She probably despises me; but I cannot blame her for feeling that way. She had trusted me enough to reveal her secret, and I did not return the favor until it was unavoidable." Her head tilted to the side, studying her husband's expression and analyzing the emotions shaping his well-known features. "You are wondering why I decided to contact her at all," Padmé remarked with certainty. She let out a puff of breath. "I hoped that we could use this matter to resolve the barrier between us. And perhaps heal old wounds that have been left open and bleeding for some time.
Yané has yet to come to terms with Cian's death – I saw it in her eyes the moment she left the ship and approached me. She has not allowed herself to grieve and move on, and I do not understand why. She is damaged inside, and whatever motivates her to exist this way is more powerful than anything else in her life. I wanted to give her a higher calling; something to live for that will benefit all – because I know that my friend is still in there, buried alive by misery and pain. And I will do all I can to save her."
Silence reigned in the wake of Padmé's monologue. The other adults seated around the conference table were lost in their own thoughts, and so the quiet persisted, the seconds ticking by unnoticed.
Obi-Wan was leaning back in his chair, an elbow propped on an armrest, fingering his beard as always. He faced the direction of the viewport – but he was not stargazing, as was obvious from his expression. A kind of melancholy sadness warred with brooding across his face, and as he reviewed his thoughts, the infant nestled in his free arm studied him with dark, perceptive eyes.
Anakin's restlessness had increased tenfold as he sat, his thoughts racing wildly through his head, and changing so quickly that he could not grasp one at a time. He had to move around – do something other than sit in the same chair he had occupied for hours. He leaned toward Padmé; she understood what he wanted, and met his lips with hers for a brief kiss. She could feel the tension in his jaw, but decided against asking him what was wrong. Anakin gently transferred a slumbering Luke into his mother's embrace, gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then practically leapt to his feet. He felt everyone's eyes on him as he paced swiftly to the viewport, watching the asteroids spinning lazily in their shifting orbits. He raked a hand through his tousled gold locks, his every nerve sizzling with suppressed agitation. And above the swirling torrent of thoughts and memories, one word repeatedly floated to the surface.
Jabiim. Jabiim. Jabiim.
Anakin rubbed his right temple, closing his eyes tightly as he fought to contain the black tide stemming from his experiences on that cursed battleground. Yet, in spite of all the moments that he wished to forget – his intuition whispered that the key was in his recollections of Jabiim. The key to what, he really could not say. Only that whatever was stored inside his mind about what had taken place on Jabiim was important to their circumstance. He opened his eyes, squinting in the sudden glare of Polis Massa's sun, and caught sight of himself in the transparisteel. His ice-blue eyes blinked, surprised – and unexpectedly, his reflection morphed into the face of an angular, olive-skinned male with black hair, a Padawan braid hanging over his right shoulder, and his silver-grey eyes stared solemnly at Anakin…
"Sometimes our most selfish desires are the ones worth fighting for."
Anakin jerked, blinking furiously – but the image was gone. His own bewildered face gleamed back at him, and yet he touched the transparisteel with his fingertips, as if trying to recapture what he had seen.
And those words – spoken with a voice that was unfamiliar, and yet unmistakable at the same time.
Anakin shook his head, struggling to clear it. He removed his hand from the viewport, still eyeing his reflected self warily, and then turned towards Padmé, straightening his shoulders and smiling a little. "In that case," he murmured, "you have nothing to worry about."
His wife merely looked at him in confusion. Anakin strolled over to her side and crouched in front of her hoverchair, ignoring his well-used chair. "If you are determined to do all you can to save Yané from her own pain, then you will succeed. I speak from personal experience," he added with a lopsided grin. His grin widened as Padmé's entire countenance lit up from within, her brown eyes sparkling in that special way he loved, and she lifted a hand to caress his jaw line with her slender fingers.
"Which brings us back to the business at hand." Obi-Wan was apparently done with contemplations – at least for the time being – and wished to resume the meeting. Anakin reluctantly returned to his chair as Padmé glanced at the Jedi Master. "Can we count on Yané's involvement?"
It was Sabé who answered. "Dormé is reasoning with her now. She is the most compassionate of us, and a neutral party. If she can appeal to Yané's inherent sense of honor and ingrained loyalty – then yes, she will cooperate with the plan."
Anakin was gnawing on his lower lip, staring hard at the tabletop. Padmé sighed, shaking her head affectionately. "What is it, Ani?" she asked.
He looked up, blue eyes darting from face to face before settling on the most beautiful. "I can't help but feel uneasy about Yané's part in this," he admitted to Padmé. "I know that you trust her, and I want to, too…but…" he trailed off.
"Trust is a hard thing to come by, as of late," Obi-Wan remarked grimly. He and Anakin shared a veiled, indecipherable look.
Padmé's eyes flashed to Sabé, but her friend just shrugged, offering, "He does have a point, Milady. Yané was my friend, as well – but even you have to admit that in light of what she's endured, and how it affects this situation – there is a question of loyalty to the mission." That was a phrase Padmé understood well, for every handmaiden had it drilled into her brain during basic training. If one of them displayed reservations about any mission, be it large or small, life-threatening or simple – she would be deemed disloyal to the mission's objective and removed from position, so another could take her place.
But her resolve was firm and unyielding. "Yané is one of the most skilled strategists I have ever met, second only to the precognitive talents of a Jedi," Padmé asserted. "We need her expertise to work in our favor. And I did offer her the choice to walk away. If she chooses to do so…then we will act accordingly."
Sabé folded her arms loosely across her chest, and lifted one shoulder. "It's your call. And I can't disagree with your reasoning, because it is sound. But I hope you realize that I do not intend to let her have free rein until I am absolutely certain that her loyalty is beyond assumption."
Padmé smiled in spite of herself. "I wouldn't expect any less from you."
"Speaking of expectations…" Sabé rotated her chair sideways to include Anakin in her all-encompassing gaze. "What will the good Emperor expect of my behavior on Coruscant?"
Anakin's blue eyes flickered to Padmé, and then back to her decoy in the space of a heartbeat. "Sidious will be expecting some type of deception from Padmé; it's in his very nature, and he assumes that the rest of the galaxy will react in the same manner. You will have to act nervous, even a little jumpy –"
"– while still pretending that you are not nervous," Padmé finished his sentence. "Remember, I am Palpatine's only link to the location of my child, and that will drive him to proceed with extreme caution. Sorrow will also play a major role in your perceived emotions. In his eyes, I have not only lost the democracy that I have spent my life upholding…but also the man I love, and the child I had hoped that we would raise together." Though it was not true of her reality, Padmé could not mask the sadness that such a scenario birthed inside her heart. Anakin scooted his chair closer, and managed to put his arm around her shoulders. Needing the physical contact as a reminder of what she had not lost, Padmé moved towards him as much as she could, and smiled as their son sighed in his sleep.
Sabé was nodding to herself, assembling a mental inventory of actions and reactions, and was therefore unaware of the wordless communication between husband and wife. She muttered quietly, finishing an unspoken thought, "…and doubtless he will try and test me, to see if I really am who I say that I am – to see if my responses coincide with Padmé's mannerisms." Then she looked up, immediately returning to the conversation. "Is there anyone in the Senate who can vouch for me, whose principles and goals line up with ours?"
Anakin watched a truly cheerful smile brighten Padmé's face. "Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. He is an honorable man, and my friend. He is the one that brought Master Yoda here, and he has agreed to help in any way he can. Bail will assist in shielding you from suspicion, and will have a plan in place for your extraction – should the worst happen."
Anakin stared at her, mildly surprised. "So, he knows? Everything?"
Padmé knew exactly to what he was referring, and she replied softly, "He already knew, Ani."
"He did?"
She laughed at his bewilderment. "He saw us together – that day, in the Rotunda." Her laughter was joined by Sabé's giggles and Obi-Wan's chuckle as Anakin blushed profusely. Padmé touched his nose with a fingertip, her smile angling into a teasing smirk. "Don't be embarrassed. Bail told me that when he realized it was you, with me…he was glad." Obi-Wan and Sabé tactfully looked aside as Padmé whispered in her husband's ear, "He has always respected you, Anakin, and not just because you are a Jedi and a war hero. He respects you as a man of character – even more so, now that he knows about us. He knows that I would not pick just any man to be my husband." She planted a kiss on his reddened cheek and pulled away, glancing over at the others to signal that their discussion could resume.
But not before Anakin swept her dark curls aside and hissed passionately, "I know exactly why you picked me."
She shivered involuntarily as his hot breath warmed the side of her throat – but by the time Sabé and Obi-Wan turned their gazes on them, Anakin was sitting innocently in his seat, his arm still resting lightly over Padmé's shoulders. Her cheeks felt flushed, and she fervently hoped that the others would not notice. She used a spare moment to look down and tidy the folds of Luke's blankets, and then glanced up when Sabé said, "Senator Organa's collaboration will be an enormous help to me, and to my cover. Is there anything else I should know?"
Padmé swallowed, and moved uncomfortably in her seat. The Delegation of Two Thousand, the rebellion that Bail and Mon Mothma were sponsoring – that she had helped get off the ground…Anakin did not know how deep her involvement went. Keeping her eyes on her friend, Padmé answered, "You may be questioned, by allies and foes alike, about the Petition of Two Thousand. It was an official request sent to Chancellor Palpatine in regards to reverting the government to its pre-war status. Naturally, Palpatine saw it as a precursor to rebellion. And he was right." The arm around her shoulders stiffened. She forced herself to continue. "Using the Delegation, and its sympathetic Senators as grounding, Bail and Mon Mothma of Chandrila are forming an underground assembly…to combat the influence of the Empire."
"Organized revolution." Sabé nodded, a feral gleam in her brown eyes. "Ingenious."
Obi-Wan interjected, "A brave move, but one that is executed at great risk. The Emperor has all the judicial and legal backing to have any suspected traitors put to death."
Before Sabé could retort, Padmé interceded. "The organization is still in its infancy. It will take time, a huge amount of funding, recruits, leadership, and a great deal of secrecy for it to be able to make any kind of difference in the future."
"And you know all this because you were a part of its foundation." Anakin's tone was low, and coldly furious. He removed his arm and pointed a finger at her face, accusing, "You didn't tell me. You should have told me. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice rose in volume, and Luke began to stir fretfully. "In the Chancellor's office – when you and the others came in – he told me that you were hiding something, and I believed him, because you weren't honest with me!" The temper that had been sealed tightly inside his body began to eat away at its prison and seep through the cracks. "You told me that you would never do anything that would endanger you or our babies, and then you –!" He broke off, and started again, ranting in classic fashion. "What if you had gotten caught? Do you have any idea what that would do to me? You always made me promise you, every time I left, that I would not do anything reckless when it came to my own life. But you, on the other hand –"
"Yes, me! Me, me, me! I made this decision, and I am more than capable of judging the consequences – so do not insult my intelligence!" Padmé virtually exploded, and was oblivious as Luke awakened and started to wail in her arms. She slapped Anakin's index finger aside, and jabbed her own in his face, shouting, "Do not talk to me about honesty, Anakin Skywalker! I have had to lie to my parents, my sister, my little nieces, my friends, and everyone I care about to protect you – protect us! And I don't care, because I love you! And what do you do? You – lied – to – me! More than once, you lied! And you think I didn't know that you were lying? Did you think I was brainless?!" she shrieked, and Leia joined in with Luke's cries. Anakin could only stare wide-eyed at his usually calm wife, stunned into silence by her brutal tirade.
"And you have the nerve to point your finger at me and accuse me of being reckless," Padmé scoffed. "I put myself into the building of a rebellion because I thought I was losing everything! I had to fight – and that was the only way I could. I didn't know how to fight to keep you, because everything I tried didn't work! I was losing you – and I thought that by getting rid of that evil man, I could keep you for a while longer." Her eyes were all blurry, making her more annoyed, and she swiped at them furiously. "Do you have any idea how that felt?" Her voice broke, and she felt angry with herself, because her chaotic emotions were ruining her speech. Padmé sniffed, her voice robbed of ire as she murmured hoarsely around the lump in her throat, "I had to fight. I had to…because nothing else mattered without you." The last word came out as a strangled sob, and she clapped her palm over her mouth to stifle the ones that followed.
Anakin and Sabé moved simultaneously; she removed Luke from Padmé's arms and rocked him soothingly, while he took Padmé's face in his hands, stroking the moisture from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, over and over, kissing her eyelids, forehead, and cheeks at random. Her whole body shook with each sob, and Anakin experienced her grief like a gaping hole in his chest. When she had calmed somewhat, he moved back a little to look into her eyes, and asked tenderly, "Are you still angry with me?"
Padmé glared at him with swollen, blood-shot eyes that still glistened with tears. "Yes," she growled.
"Do you want to yell at me some more?" he suggested softly, brushing away damp tendrils of hair from her cheeks.
Her glare melted into a watery half-smile, and confessed, "No." Padmé then threw her arms around Anakin's neck and kissed him hard. He had no choice but to wrap his arms around her waist and respond with his own fervor. He struggled for breath as she broke off; pressing their foreheads together, Padmé muttered in a low, husky voice, "I'm sorry, too. I love you, Anakin – but sometimes, you drive me absolutely insane." He chuckled, thinking that it was safe to do so now, and to his relief, Padmé laughed quietly, as well. Anakin would have liked to kiss her again, but the subtle sound of a clearing throat caused them to move apart. Padmé looked sheepishly over at Sabé. "Is Luke all right?"
"He's fine. Other than having temporary hearing loss, that is."
Padmé rolled her eyes in response as Obi-Wan commented, "I didn't realize that you had such a volatile temper, Padmé. You and Anakin have more in common than I thought." There was a peculiar inflection in the Jedi Master's mild observation, and Anakin's eyebrow arched speculatively. It seemed to him that his old friend knew more about their bond than he let on – as it was apparent that Obi-Wan had determined that he and Padmé were mimicking one another's natural emotional reactions.
A shaft of yellow-white light abruptly cut across the center of the conference table, and five heads turned in the direction of the doorway. "Forgive me for interrupting, Milady," Dormé announced from the threshold, silhouetted by the bright glow. "I have news about Yané."
The playful atmosphere in the room evaporated, and Padmé motioned Dormé inside. The faithful handmaiden closed the door behind her and approached the group, clasping her hands in front of her. "What news?" Padmé asked.
"Yané has agreed to stay and participate in your plan –" A chorus of relieved sighs filled the room. " – but I am afraid that she has a condition."
Sabé looked incredulous. Obi-Wan simply raised an eyebrow, and Anakin's blue eyes flashed with fire. Padmé remained professionally expressionless, and said, "And this condition…?"
Dormé's wide brown eyes were filled with apprehension. "She wants to speak to you. Alone."
"That's it?" Anakin asked dubiously. Sabé was already shaking her head, knowing exactly which direction this was heading. Yané was anything if not cunning. That was what made her a great strategist.
"She said…she said that she would speak with you alone, Milady, and that you must tell her only truth from the moment you enter the room." Dormé winced in apology. "Her exact words, Milady."
Anakin bristled. "She has no right to –"
"Tell her that I accept," Padmé declared evenly, her chin held high.
"What?" Anakin exclaimed as Dormé nodded, curtseyed, and quickly left the room.
Padmé laid her palm on Anakin's chest, in its customary place over his heart. "I have nothing to hide from her, Ani. In fact, it's something I should have told her long ago." He began to sputter refusals, but she interrupted soothingly, "She deserves the truth from her friend, which is what I am. If she wishes harm me, she will do so verbally. And I can handle a bit of verbal sparring." She grinned lopsidedly – a near-perfect imitation of his trademark grin.
"I know, but –"
"Shh." She pressed a finger over his lips, shushing him gently. "You don't trust her; I know. But you trust me. So trust me that I know what I am doing." Padmé removed her finger, only to touch her lips to his briefly, and then she spun her hoverchair towards the door. "Look after the twins," she called. Sabé waved one-handed in reply, and exchanged a long, meaningful look with Obi-Wan. The decoy certainly hoped that her friend knew what she was getting herself into; in Sabé's experience, a person who is confronted by another who has achieved all that they had wished for themselves has two options. One, to be genuinely glad for the other person and go on with their life – or two, become absorbed by jealousy and seek to sabotage the other person's happiness.
So Padmé believed that the Yané they all knew and loved was still inside that stone-faced woman.
Sabé sincerely hoped that she was right. Because if not… She glanced sideways at Anakin, who was staring blankly into space as if trying to figure out what had just happened. Then she glanced at the Jedi Master, who kept looking worriedly at the closed portal and at the tiny baby in his arms.
If not…then Yané was about to make some very dangerous enemies.
Sabé looked down, into the curious blue stare of Padmé's son, and mumbled, "I hope your mother knows what she's doing, Luke. Or we will be in serious trouble."