Chapter Twelve:
Padmé looked up as Hazael and Tibni entered the small conference room, in which she and the requested number of senators waited. Aside from Padmé, Senators Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, a male Farghul named Quill Midine, a female Togruta named Adage Jyo and Colora Lon, a male Gran, were also present.
Everyone stood when Hazael entered, though he gestured for Tibni to take a seat near one window. Tibni did so, and when there were curious gazes, Hazael smiled politely. "My friend wishes to see how things are done, and since he is an ambassador for his kind, I have brought him along."
Padmé smiled. "Of course, Hazael, that's perfectly fine. Does he need any water?"
Padmé saw Tibni turn his head at the mention of water, and when he looked upon her, Padmé could have sworn the Jawa gave a start. But at a glance from Hazael the Jawa settled and looked away. The notion didn't go unnoticed by Padmé, but she dismissed it as the Jawa taking a cue from Hazael that all was fine.
Hazael returned his attention back to Padmé. "That is very kind of you, but he will be fine."
Padmé nodded, gesturing for Hazael to take his seat. "We are eager to hear what you have to propose, Hazael."
The man took his seat and nodded to all the other senators. "Ladies, Gentlemen, thank you for seeing me. I would like to introduce you all to a new metal I have been working with."
"A new metal?" Senator Quill said, his tufted ears shifting curiously.
Hazael nodded. "Indeed. See, I have ownership of a mining company that recently discovered a cache of metal ore on Tatooine. We have refined and worked it, forming it into some various pieces of armor or even a few melee weapons."
Quill frowned. "How can you be certain it's not an already established element?"
Hazael sat forward. "Because of how deep into the planet we've had to dig. Trust me; no one has seen this metal in generations at the very least."
Senator Organa sat forward. "What is this metal called?"
"I have named it rushtonium," Hazael said with a hint of pride Padmé found curious, though she did wonder at the interesting name.
He sat back in his seat, and as he did so, Padmé's gaze happened to see over his shoulder to the Jawa sitting silently and stiffly. And yet... he was staring straight at Padmé. Padmé blinked, taken aback, and she looked away. However, she could still feel his attention on her, and when Padmé gave him a sideways glance, she had the distinct impression he was glaring at her.
Frowning minutely, Padmé refocused on the meeting, having lost concentration. Thus she missed some of the talking, something she was frustrated about. When she tuned back in— resolutely putting Tibni out of her mind for the time being— Hazael was expounding on something.
"...makes an excellent sword or knife. We made a few different ones, and so far they have withstood several tests. And with the armor pieces we've molded, they have withstood blasterfire at a pretty impressive range. Though I will admit we haven't used higher-grade weaponry on it yet. But we are certain our products will be worth every credit. We wish to sell to the Republic and help protect its soldiers."
"They do rather like returning home to their families," Senator Lon said, his trio of eye sockets shifting to view Hazael.
"But we would need a sample of this armor to test for ourselves." Senator Mothma added.
"Of course." Hazael inclined his head. "I had planned for that. I brought both a piece of armor and a weapon for you to do with as you please, though I will need them back when you are finished."
He bent down and retrieved his sealed case, opening it with his fingerprints, and then setting it on the table. He opened the top and pulled out two objects from within. From her position near the man, Padmé glimpsed something bright green within the case, though she didn't see exactly what it was before Hazael sealed the box again.
"Here you go." Hazael sat back, gesturing to the breast plate and the knife. "Please, feel free to test these items, though I would like to be present for anything beyond what my company has already done."
"Of course," Mothma replied.
Hazael stood, gesturing to Tibni, who rose from his chair also. "I have other meetings to attend, I'm afraid, but I will be available on the comlink if you should need me."
Everyone stood and the collection of persons shook hands with each other before Hazael and Tibni departed. Padmé couldn't help but stare at Tibni's back as he exited, unsettled with how much attention he'd given her. However, he seemed to sense her scrutiny, because just before he was gone, he turned his head and looked directly at her. Their gazes met for a long, tense second, and then the Jawa seemed to realize he was about to be left behind, for he scattered to catch up with Hazael.
Everyone filed out, leaving Padmé alone, which made her nervous for some reason. Why had the Jawa been staring at her? No... not staring, glaring? What had she done to him to earn such scrutiny? Padmé realized that the Jawa had only focused on her the entire meeting.
Was there something she was missing? And why did his presence and his gaze suddenly make her uncomfortable?
Feeling vulnerable now— but not understanding why— Padmé left the room and returned to her office, forcing herself to finish her work day before she allowed herself to return home. Padmé arrived at the house to hear Anakin playing with Ijon, and Padmé didn't want to ruin the mood, so she forced a happy smile onto her face and walked in.
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Anakin heard the door open and smiled when he saw his Angel there. Ijon, having also heard the door, looked and grinned widely.
"Mommy!" Ijon exclaimed, leaping up to race towards his mother.
Padmé smiled, but something about it didn't seem right to Anakin, and he frowned lightly. He supposed she'd had a bad day at the office, but normally she was able to leave her work at work.
Anakin gently touched his wife's presence in the Force and was alarmed to find her in distress. Worried, Anakin stood, coming to her and waiting for his chance to greet her. Ijon hugged and kissed Padmé until he'd had his fill, and then he returned to his play set in the living room.
"Are you alright?" Anakin asked, touching her face in concern.
Padmé shivered and looked down. "No, not really."
Anakin's concern grew, and he took her hand. "What's wrong?"
Padmé glimpsed Ijon, and shook her head. "Not here."
Anakin inclined his head and led Padmé to their room, though he spied Leia emerging from her own room. "Watch your brother please."
Leia blinked at his tone, but didn't argue, though her gaze did follow Padmé, no doubt sensing her emotions as well.
Once the door was closed, Anakin turned to find that Padmé had moved to their window. She was hugging her arms about herself and staring out over the city. Anakin approached, hugging her from behind.
"What's wrong, Angel?" Anakin asked softly, worried about the way she was acting.
"I... I don't know," Padmé replied, "at least, not entirely."
"Not entirely?" Anakin echoed.
Padmé sighed, turning to face him. "Hazael brought Tibni to our meeting today. When Tibni saw me, it was like he was startled to see me." Padmé worried at her lip a moment, an uncharacteristic thing for her. "And then— I don't know why— but during our meeting Tibni just kept... staring at me. I am pretty sure he was glaring at me at one point."
Anakin's frown returned. "The Jawa was glaring at you?"
Padmé nodded. "I couldn't see his face, of course, but I could just... tell. For some reason he was glaring at me." Padmé shivered. "For the entire meeting."
Anakin gathered her close to comfort her, though his mind was now going back to Leia's questions about this same Jawa. What was it about this one Jawa that had both his ladies in such knots?
Anakin recalled the Jawa's sense of distrust when he'd first met the creature. Anakin had just assumed it was the natural tendencies of his species that made Tibni like that. But was it more? Or was Tibni just extra edgy because he was out of his element?
But if that was the case, why would the Jawa fixate on Padmé? The room had been full of people, so why did Anakin's wife get special treatment?
Anakin pursed his lips, determined to find time to speak with Hazael, and hopefully Tibni. He wanted to get to the bottom of this.
"I'll speak with Hazael and Tibni, alright?" Anakin told Padmé, kissing her head. "Don't worry; I won't jeopardize your meetings with him."
Padmé shook her head. "I trust you. She paused, and then met his gaze. "Anakin... I don't know why, but Tibni unsettles me."
Anakin thinned his lips. It was rare that anyone got under his wife's skin like this: she being a tough woman under all her gowns and makeup. Now Anakin was more determined than ever to speak to the Jawa.
"Please hold me," Padmé pled. "I just want to be held by you... so I can feel safe."
Anakin nodded. "I'll do whatever you need, Angel. Come here."
He led her to their bed, where he laid down and opened his arms to her. Padmé climbed in beside him and folded herself into him. Anakin's arms wrapped about her and he kissed her head, completely willing to hold her for as long as she needed.
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Leia was openly curious about why her mother was out of sorts, but she knew her father would handle whatever it was, so Leia turned her attention to her other things. She had read everything she'd downloaded, having spent the bulk of the day doing so. Now she was trying to process everything and find a place for it in her puzzle to solve Luke's mysterious circumstances.
Leia had read that brain aneurisms came with warning signs: including pain, vomiting, seizures, and sensitivity to light. According to her parent's notes in the reports, Luke hadn't shown any signs whatsoever that he was in pain, and he'd not reacted at all to their lighting in the house.
Leia knew she was missing something, but she didn't know what. So she would need to peruse the medical reports again and do so in greater detail. Then again, she hadn't read all the reports. She'd mainly focused on the medical ones up till now because she was trying to puzzle out the health issue.
"Leia, will you play with me?" Ijon asked, thrusting a toy speeder into her face.
Leia gazed upon him, his brown eyes so earnest she couldn't deny him. Leia smiled softly and nodded, taking the toy and moving to sit with him on the floor. Ijon clapped happily at having time with his sister, and immediately gave her instructions for their play session.
"You be the mommy picking up her son!" Ijon indicated the plastic figurines and handed her the adult one. "I'll be the boy coming home from school!"
"Alright." Leia placed her doll into the speeder she'd been given and then moved away from Ijon so simulate her coming from far away. "I need to hurry! I'll be late to pick him up!"
Ijon giggled, and the two of them continued to play, though at one point, Leia wondered what it would have been like to play like this with Luke...
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In another apartment on Coruscant, Luke and Hazael were similarly 'playing'. Luke quaked where he stood as Hazael took aim, and Luke dared not move for fear of being hit. Although, his chances of being struck were still high as it was.
Halfway through Luke's cleaning chores for the evening, Hazael had decided he wanted to work out with other knives that he'd brought along. These particular weapons were his personal set, ones he had trained hard with. And since there were no other acceptable targets in the area— and he didn't want to set up a mini-gym in his room— Hazael had chosen Luke to be his womp rat.
Luke was surprised when Hazael had ordered Luke to temporarily remove his Jawa outfit, remembering that Hazael had said Luke would never again do so. But the boy had relished the thought of taking a break from his heavy costume, so he'd done it gladly.
However, had he known what lay in store for him after the fact, he'd have reconsidered.
Now he stood in only his loincloth again against a piece of lumber Hazael had set up along one wall... and Hazael was throwing his knives at the board while Luke stood there. Every time Hazael took aim Luke whimpered in terror, certain he would die each time.
Hazael now grinned maliciously; eyeing the knives he had already thrown that had landed within centimeters of the child's body in various places. He had three to go, and Luke's fear only mounted as Hazael hummed to himself.
"I need more distance." Hazael took three large steps backwards, putting a greater space between him and the board Luke stood against. He took aim... and Luke closed his eyes tightly, certain this was his end.
Shh...thuunk!
Luke's chest heaved unsteadily, and for long seconds he stood before Hazael sighed. "Stop being so dramatic, idiot: it didn't hit you."
Luke's eyes cracked open and he peered about himself and discovered a knife that was next to his splayed hand. Luke gulped down a breath of air, relieved for a few seconds that he was unharmed.
However, before he could relax, Hazael threw the next knife and Luke sucked in a terrified gasp. This one landed so close to the top of his head, that Luke felt a few hairs get cut. Luke trembled harder, wondering if Hazael had meant to get so close.
Part of Luke's mind told him that Hazael wouldn't risk his slave if he wasn't absolutely certain he would have perfect aim, but the fear gripping him wouldn't let Luke see reason.
"Now... one last shot..." Hazael's eyes travelled all about Luke's malnourished body until he stopped at a point just below Luke's waistline. Luke risked following the man's gaze and felt his eyes widen when he saw where his master was looking.
Luke's head jerked upright, his eyes wild. "No!" He cried in horror before he could stop himself.
Hazael's eyes blazed. "Silence!"
Luke closed his mouth obediently, but when Hazael took aim this time, Luke couldn't help himself. He broke away from the wall, shaking his head in a silent plea for mercy. Hazael's eyes burned with outrage.
"Get back to the wall," he said darkly.
Luke broke out into frightened tears, and he shook his head desperately. Hazael surged forward then, eyes ablaze, and Luke cried out, backing away from his master. But Hazael was faster and far stronger. He grabbed Luke by the wrist and pulled, easily dragging Luke back into his place on the wall.
Luke struggled against him, the fear taking over completely. Hazael growled furiously and once more grabbed Luke by the neck, picking him up effortlessly and slamming him into the wall so hard that Luke saw stars. That stunned him long enough for Hazael to use two of his knives to pin Luke into place by his loincloth.
Luke came-to in time to see this and began to weep harder. Hazael returned to his place, and Luke was powerless to do anything but watch as Hazael took aim... Luke wanted to close his eyes, but his body wouldn't obey him... then the man threw the knife.
Shh...thuunk!
Luke screamed in terror as the sound of the knife hit his ears, and he panted like he'd just run a marathon at a full sprint. Hazael laughed outright at him, and Luke didn't register until a full thirty seconds later that he felt no pain.
He looked down... and saw the final knife right beneath his groin. Luke wilted with relief, the tears still falling as Hazael removed the knives and threw Luke's gear at him again. "Back on. This will be the only time you got out of them. Target practice isn't as good when one is shrouded in bulky robes. Don't you agree Tibni?"
Luke barely thought to nod, too relieved to be alive and in one piece to care about the insult this time. But he was shaking so badly that he couldn't get his gear on, and Hazael hit him over the back of the head.
"Hurry up! I'm tired of looking at your disgusting self!"
Luke worked harder to calm his hands enough to put his gear back on, and it was several tense moments before he succeeded in putting it all back on. Hazael then nodded and gestured to the chores Luke had left unfinished.
"Now, back to work."
Luke obeyed on trembling knees, not knowing how much more of Hazael's cruelty he could take before he lost it.