Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews, I am very grateful to receive them. In this part we see Padme rescue Bail and Obi-Wan, his recovery at the Temple and an insight into the Chancellor's thoughts concerning his schemes for an Empire. The opening scene comes from Karen Miller's excellent novel Wild Space.

Next week, on Thursday 4th July, my site celebrates twelve years online. In view of that date, a new layout and some desktops, as well as the usual chapter of Intimacy Without Intricacy shall be updated then. Enjoy.


Part 28: Perspectives.

"All right, Senator!" Captain Korbel called up to her. "You're good to go."

Padmé leapt to the top of the ramp, and came to a stuttered halt in the hatchway. Bail was standing at its base, waiting for her.
He looked appalling.

"Senator Amidala," his voice greeted her, as he tried to perform a courtly bow. It made an odd contrast to the ragged clothes which he wore and the dirtiness of his appearance, as well as the gaunt pallor his body had acquired.

Aware of her Senatorial dignity with the presence of the clone troops formed below her, she descended the ramp to meet him. She wanted to hug him, but she was afraid she would cause him more injury than he was currently visibly suffering.

"Senator Organa," she returned his greeting instead. "I understand you need a lift."

Bail attempted to laugh, but his voice cracked and she could see he was breathing hard. At last he replied, "Only if you're going my way. I wouldn't like to put you to any trouble."

"No. No trouble," she answered. "There might be a small fee... Oh, Bail." She dropped her attempts at banter and hugged him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered as he returned the embrace. "I stink."

Somehow she sensed he was apologising for more than just how he smelt. "You're alive. Where's Obi-Wan?"

"Hello, Padmé," another cracked voice greeted her then, just as Bail released her from his embrace. "Riding to the rescue again."

If Bail's appearance had caused her concern, with Obi-Wan it was magnified tenfold. He hobbled towards her, his clothes in tatters, his face smeared with dirt, his skin mottled with injuries, the most severe of which was hidden from her view by makeshift bandages wrapped around his right thigh. About his shoulders she could see a strange creature attached to a nutrient frame, who did not seem content with his ride, or his surroundings, as every now and again he or she hissed at them both.

"Obi-Wan," she whispered, tears slipping down her face, forgetting to hide how deeply she had come to care for this particular Jedi.

He embraced her too, though there was a distance within him, as though he was keeping himself in check, protecting her from the true extent of his suffering. "Its not as bad as it appears, Padmé."

"Not as bad as it appears!" she echoed with incredulity. "Let's start with the most obvious, shall we? What happened to your leg?"

A glance was exchanged between him and Bail, a peculiarly complicated one, which she wondered at, before the Jedi Master replied. "Its nothing. Truly. A lightsaber mishap."

She remembered the last time that had served as an explanation; Geonosis, when Dooku almost crippled him before dismembering Anakin. "Again?"

"At the risk of being pushy, Padmé, I really want to get the vape off this rock," Bail said then. "So can we... you know... go?"

"Of course," she replied, but not before sending them a look to make sure that they both knew that this conversation wasn't over.

With help from the clone troops, they climbed on board her ship, and she followed them inside. A careful tenderness from Captain Korbel and his team was employed as the troops installed the Senator and Jedi in the quarters of her yacht.

"I'll get us out of here," she uttered, allowing herself to lightly touch Obi-Wan's cheek with her hand before she left them to the care of the medics.

Only when the course was laid and the ship had entered hyperspace did she return to the quarters. Muffled voices waylaid her upon the threshold.

"Well," she heard Bail say. "Is it coming back?"

A long silence seemed to pass before she heard Obi-Wan reply. "Yes."

"See?" Bail said, the reproof gentled by his tone. "I told you the Sith couldn't stop you being a Jedi. Not forever, anyway."

"Yes you did," Obi-Wan replied in a choked tone, the like of which she had only witnessed once before, when she came to in his arms after the explosion on Pais. No words were exchanged between them, but none had been needed, for what he was feeling then had been clearly displayed upon his face.

More conversation passed between Bail and Obi-Wan, but while Padmé forced herself to forget the words, though she couldn't forget the sentiment which she descried behind them. Evidently the friendship which had begun on Pais was now deepened thanks to whatever had occurred on Zigoola. And she was glad of that, for she dread to think what might await Obi-Wan at the Temple concerning Anakin. He was a good Jedi, and though he might not be aware of it, Anakin could rarely hide anything from him.
Privately and guiltily, she wondered how long their own friendship would last once he divined what was wrong.

"Padmé." She roused herself from her thoughts to find Bail standing before her.

"Obi-Wan's not the only one who needs first aid," she reminded him. "We've got six medics on board, remember. One of them is yours."

"That sounds good," he replied with a nod. "But I would just like to sit here for a while first. Can we just sit, do you think?"

"Of course," she said gently. "And if you want to talk, I'm here."

"Not now," he answered. "Maybe later."

She patted his arm. "Anytime, my friend."


Not quite a week had passed before Obi-Wan could avail himself with routine. His healer, Vokara Che, had only just released him from the halls of healing three days ago, with strict instructions not to tire himself or to step beyond the walls of the Temple precinct. The warning was as effective as an Geonosisan containment field. Within minutes of him settling his body under one of the fountains in the Temple's lush arboretum, Master Yoda had accosted his peace of mind with a reminder that he had yet to brief the Council about his experiences on Zigoola.

The Sith artefacts had occupied them whilst he was recovering. Due to Count Dooku's knowledge of the planet and the precautions concerning the Ysalamiri, he and Bail had managed to salvage what they could from the Sith Temple before it destroyed itself around them. If it had not been necessary to touch the Force in order to contact Master Yoda, if one of the artefacts within the Temple had not caused their ship to crash, destroying any normal forms of hyperspace communication, Obi-Wan doubted he would have experienced the full measure of hatred upon a Sith planet.

Hatred was an understatement, as he explained to the Council yesterday. There was more light in a single drop of water from this arboretum than there had been on that planet. That he could feel in his whole body when released from the protection of the Ysalamiri. It had been the most lonely, the most bereft he had ever felt. Not even Qui-Gon's death, or the sight of his empty apartment after Anakin's knighthood had affected him thus.

Thinking of Anakin... that was something else his return had yet to address. Usually Vokara Che had to bar him from the halls of healing whenever Obi-Wan was convalescent, just as she had to forbid Obi-Wan from visiting when the situation was reversed. But Obi-Wan hadn't seen him. When he was up to it, he would make a more thorough search of the Temple, but for now, the absence of his former apprentice was just another troubling concern with which to distract his thoughts from the memory of his experiences on Zigoola. Not that he wanted to dwell on what had happened to him and Bail there, but reminders were inevitable.

He had not been bereft of company whilst convalescent in the halls of healing. Taria Damsin, an old friend of his, was there too. She was also under the strict rule of Vokara Che, though her illness, unfortunately, was of a mortal nature. Soon he would be attending another funeral, just as untimely as the last. Like Qui-Gon, and Garen, it had not taken her long to divine his feelings regarding a certain Senator. But unlike his friend and former master, Taria knew more than they ever could. For once they had felt a drop of the same emotion, and indulged themselves within the feeling. Not breaking the Code, but bending it all the same. It never went as deep as the wealth of emotion he felt for Padmé, yet there was no denying it all the same. For a time the emotion ruled them, then faded, as these things often did, allowing them to remain friends without regret on either side.

And like his other friends, Taria availed herself of the rights to divine when he felt something worth bending, even breaking the soon to be non-existent no attachment rule, finding out all she could about the woman in question, and grilling him on why he refused to give into the emotion, especially as now there no longer any rule against him doing so. Which meant he had to explain why all over again, ignoring the wisdom he'd lately received from his master, wondering at the same time if Qui-Gon was monitoring him as he did so. He imagined there must be some degree of difference to the Force with death, but ever since his former master had shown himself in spirit form, Obi-Wan had been dealing with the possibility that he was being watched.

Taria hadn't been any happier with his reservations than Garen was. While he understood their position, neither of them knew Anakin as well as he did, for his apprentice had always been rather uncomfortable around his master's friends. He knew Anakin would not be able to handle the idea of his master feeling the same emotions as he did for Padmé, and rightly so perhaps, especially when he had been very hypocritical regarding his apprentice's desire to break the rules.

However, only to Anakin did he appear so. Obi-Wan knew that as much as his apprentice claimed to feel what he felt for Padmé, the depth of emotion that they both felt was in reality galaxies apart. Anakin's was for a Queen he could protect in a gilded palace, against all outsiders; selfish, obsessive, possessive. Obi-Wan saw the woman behind those titles of Queen and Senator, honoured her the right to take care of herself, to come to rescue as she had done on Zigoola. But though everyone who divined his feelings were convinced she did, not once did he expect her to return what he felt.

He had not been surprised at Yoda's choice of rescuer from the Sith planet. Given the message he and Bail managed to send through the darkness they experienced there, sending someone immune to the Force, backed up by a squad of medically trained clone troopers was a sensible alternative. Nor were they many beings who knew of the dangers posed by the Sith and who were in a position to mount such a rescue at such short notice. He was also relieved to see her, since he hadn't been able to give her a farewell in person before he left for Zigoola. Come to think of it, her sudden departure for the retreat on Chandrila was unusual, given they had only just returned from Pais. But then none of them had known when they left how long the peace conference was going to take. It may have just been a coincidence.

Obi-Wan longed to see her, but knew that would be difficult. Aside from his suspicions concerning her relationship with Anakin, there were her duties in the Senate and his at the Temple. Their paths could not just cross. But then again, maybe Bail would invite them to dinner one evening, a visit that wouldn't include Anakin, unless his presence was requested, for the Senator did not know his former apprentice. It wasn't alone, but he didn't think he could trust himself alone with her yet.

Zigoola had played with his emotions. Even inside the Force bubble which the Ysalamiri used, he had to learn how to cope without the guidance of the ancient energy, though he was unhampered by the voices from the dark side which tortured him when he ventured forth from the beast's protection. Feeling the return of the lightness in which he was raised was a relief, but also strange, as his reunion was tainted by the torture he endured through the protection of the Ysalamiri and that brief moment when Bail took the creature away, before giving him that lightsaber injury so he could contact Yoda.

Count Dooku's cautionary advice was both a blessing and a curse, for it had not prepared him for the full onslaught of the Sith will which penetrated his brain when the protection from the Ysalamiri had been taken away. But neither would he have been comfortable not taking such protection to Zigoola. Bail and he might not have survived if he had to endure days of the Sith onslaught.

The memory of that voice, the constant chant of, 'die Jedi,' was a painful one. Vokara Che and Yoda warned him that he while should not dwell on the experience, it had changed him, and he must adapt to that change. And adapt he would, he was still a Jedi, if Zigoola had taught him anything, it was that. Which was why he was underneath one of the fountains in the arboretum, so he could learn to adapt to the change within the comfort of an old and familiar skill.

There was also another reason, one which he was reluctant to reveal to anyone, yet something he had to try. Hearing that voice of the Sith, might possibly allow him to sense the danger of the dark side which was clouding the light of the Force on Coruscant. The one who the Council all agreed originated from the Sith master they were still looking for, the identity of whom Count Dooku still refused to reveal.

Delving into the depths of the Force, Obi-Wan focused on that part of him which had changed, working to harness it to search. At first nothing happened, but he was a patient man, as all those years training Anakin could testify.

Eventually after what seemed like hours but really could have only been minutes at best, he felt something. Cautiously he waded deeper, seeking for some sign of recognition. There was no reply, but then he never expected one.

Surroundings emerged, as though he was looking through the eyes of the Sith, immune to the creature's awareness, but there with him, wherever he was. Focusing on the view, Obi-Wan was both astonished and alarmed to realise that it was Coruscant. Keeping an eye on the creature, he tried to recall where he had seen that view.

When the memory was confirmed, his and the Council's worst suspicions, were also.


Palpatine paced in his office, content to let his true sithly self be free from the restraint of the role of Supreme Chancellor, knowing that he would not be disturbed for the next hour. He had just come from the Senate eatery, where to his shock he had seen a worn Bail Organa chatting to Padmé Amidala and that annoying, but infinitely useful, Gungan, who granted him executive powers before Geonosis, just as he wished. For some time he had been fielding questions over the absence of the Senator from Alderaan, and had been prepared to lay out a flimsy inquiry followed by an equally useless search party, before reporting his unfortunate demise, along with that of Master Kenobi.

But his presence in the Senate eatery meant that the Senator had survived, and thus so had Master Kenobi he suspected, though he had yet to set eyes on the Jedi himself. It was a reasonable assumption, for the Jedi was favoured by Yoda and that little troll would have expressed his concerns by now if Organa had failed to return with him.

Clearly, he had underestimated their ability to foil him at every turn. Such a conclusion disgusted him, until now he was of the opinion that no one in existence was capable of sabotaging his plans. Even Kenobi, whom he had once contemplated turning to the dark, for the challenge and pleasure received in turning one so firmly devoted to the light and so potentially powerful would have been infinite. Yoda's favoured protégé would have made an excellent apprentice. The duel with Maul on Naboo convinced him further, for there he had sensed the sudden rush of anger which Kenobi briefly embraced, his innocence in dealing with such an emotion rendering his skill inferior and his steps uncertain. Even when Kenobi let go of the anger and defeated Maul, Palpatine still felt the potential there to convert him.

Landing on Naboo, congratulating him, he caught sight of the one being who changed his mind. Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One. A mere boy, but powerful, naive, stubborn and precocious. Where the newly promoted Knight Kenobi greeted the new Chancellor with a respect that hid a disdain for politics, his soon to be apprentice was fascinated by him and the power he held inside. Although nonnescient in the ways of the world, the power inside the Chosen One had recognised a equal inside Palpatine, and latched on. From that moment, his destiny was decided.

Occasionally, during moments like these, Palpatine harboured certain regrets concerning his transference of choice. The Chosen One still had much to learn, and failed to realise how much Obi-Wan Kenobi could teach him. Apprenticeship to the dark side required subtlety, patience, a rigorous self-discipline and infinite artistry. Four things which Anakin Skywalker had yet to learn, or realise the value of.

Revealing the existence of Zigoola to the Friends of the Republic had been a test in temptation as much as a possible opportunity to rid himself of two foils in his side. If Obi-Wan had surrendered to the will of the dark side which lived and breathed upon that planet, Palpatine would have considered such a result just as much a victory as his and Senator Organa's deaths would have been. Both Senate and the Jedi would have been devastated by such an outcome, their shock too pungent to fight him, as he brought the Republic and the Order to their knees before his Empire.

That outcome would have been interesting, possibly more so than his present schemes, hindered as they had been by Dooku's desire for peace. The whereabouts of his wizened apprentice were at present unknown to him, doubtless because the Count of Serenno wished to avoid the wrath of Sidious. Usually he would focus his efforts on finding the wayward apprentice, but Dooku had always been a stepping stone, a temporary place holder, until the Chosen One was matured and ripe for plucking.

Such a moment was at hand, and required his full attention if it was to succeed. In his current schemes, modified due to Serenno's sudden pacifist conversion, the fall of Chosen One could not be a tragedy paraded openly before the Order and the Republic. It had to be showered in the cloak of darkness he had used to cement his own rise to power. Like him, Anakin needed to wear a mask, to deceive the world of his true nature. Something his master was more suited to, but Palpatine doubted that there was anything left which could tempt Obi-Wan to the dark side now.

If he succeeded, then he could employ his third scheme, one which would tear the Republic and the Order apart in a scandal that no one was immune from.


To be continued