Padmé and Anakin walked abreast as they entered Coruscant's enormous galactic spaceport, with Threepio tottering along behind them. Padmé wore one of the simplest of her dresses, an amber-colored frock, with her long hair hidden beneath a matching hood. She was happy they weren't on Naboo; she doubted anyone in the crowds of Coruscant, or Corellia later, would recognize her on appearance alone.
Anakin's Jedi robes had been rolled and stowed away in the bag he carried over his shoulder. Instead, he wore a boring beige shirt underneath an equally boring grey-green poncho, with his padawan's braid tucked up under the band of a brown cap. Padmé doubted they could have tried much harder to hide their identities, at least not without looking like they had something to hide.
Padmé, having only come to Coruscant for political business throughout her career, had never seen Galactic City's capital spaceport, and had always traveled on private starships between the two planets. The central room was spacious, but not as wide as she'd pictured. It continued upward and downward several levels, each with its own abundance of doorways leading to the open air, where hundreds of ships awaited their passengers on long platforms surrounding the spaceport's center.
Light from the system's central star filled the room through the doorways and several expansive, brown-orange-tinted windows positioned along the rounded ceiling. There were more than enough terminals available for people to book their last-minute trips, and an equal number of droids behind windowed counters to accept tickets.
Padmé took the lead and made her way through the crowds composed of every species in the known galaxy. Behind her, she could hear Threepio's occasional exclamations and apologies while the clumsy droid tried hard to keep up with his human companions, colliding with others more than a few times. They made it to a line of benches, where she and her guardian took a seat with Threepio standing beside the bench and looking around in his twitchy, mechanical way.
Padmé gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder only minutes later. Anakin's arm shot up and grabbed hold of whoever it was standing behind her. The senator whipper her head around to look and saw a woman with caramel tan skin looking at Anakin through green-lensed goggles.
"Sorry, Queenie, didn't mean to startle you," she murmured furtively, "do you mind calling the watch dog off?"
"Wait, I know you," Padmé said. Anakin glanced over at her, then back at the woman, releasing her wrist.
The woman pushed her goggles up under the brim of her blue cap. "I guess ten years is a long time," she said, "but I didn't think you'd forget my name that easily."
Although the woman looked older than she'd been upon their first meeting, she knew her face and recognized the nickname she'd addressed her with. "Ruta," she said, recalling the woman's name, "it has been a while."
"Nice to see you're doing alright for yourself," Ruta replied, "but I guess I can't call you 'Queenie' anymore." She gestured toward Anakin with her head. "Who's your handsome friend?" she asked, giving him a cheeky wink that caused his mouth to twitch.
"You must remember Anakin."
Ruta rolled her eyes. "So tall," she groaned, "you two are ruining my nicknames one after the other." She dramatically let out a huff while moving to lean on the back on the bench. And I was so proud of them, too."
Anakin laughed. "Honestly, I won't miss 'Shorty'."
"Yeah, yeah," Ruta grumbled. "I like your droid, by the way. Our mutual friend didn't tell me you polished it so obsessively; quite the shiny hunk of metal."
Padmé cocked an eyebrow, then realized what she was doing. "Thanks," she replied, "he told us you knew the best vacation spot in the galaxy."
Ruta winked at her. "He's right. You'll love it there."
Padmé and Anakin stood up while Ruta turned toward the ticket droids, motioning for them to follow. After waiting in a short line, they came to the forefront where a dark-colored metallic droid awaited them.
"Tickets, please," it said. Unlike Threepio, it had a robotic, thoroughly inhuman voice.
"They're already in the system," Ruta replied.
"Name?"
"Ruta Vostana."
The droid searched the starport's records, then nodded. "Two adults, one protocol droid," it stated, "destination: Coronet Starport, Corellia."
"That's right."
"Proceed to level four, gate seven," the droid buzzed disinterestedly. Ruta led them away from the counter, in the direction of the turbolift
"I thought you were coming with us," Padmé said quietly.
"Don't worry," Ruta replied, looking back briefly to tip her hat, "I don't fly passenger."
"You're piloting registered transports now?" Anakin asked.
"I needed a change of pace after all the excitement the Senate pulled me into ten years ago. After a while, I got comfortable and never left." Ruta shrugged. "Honestly, I was kind of relieved to hear from Obi. Gives me a reason change things up." She looked back again. "Just don't get me killed. I don't want to regret doing you people a favor; it's not normally my policy."
"Thank you," Padmé replied, grinning at her attitude.
Ruta grinned back, then looked ahead again. "We'll have to get reacquainted when we reach Corellia."
Padmé, Anakin, and Threepio followed the pilot out onto one of the spaceport's many landing pads. It was wide and open, with the sun shining from directly above them. Without the crowds, close spaces, and tall shadows cast by myriad skyscrapers, it was enough to make one forget they were on a planet covered entirely in cityscape.
Although the capital had its good parts, the main ones being its vibrant culture and diverse imports, Padmé was glad to leave. She missed the lakes, forests, and plains of Naboo, where one could walk for hours without running across another person. She doubted that kind of solitude was possible in the Republic's capital. She'd never been to Corellia, and could only hope they were headed somewhere secluded and quiet, somewhere more like home.
They left Ruta's company upon reaching the shuttle and boarded with the other passengers. Not one of them had spared them a curious glance, which did much to ease Padmé's nerves. She was no stranger to masquerading as a civilian, especially not after the excitement during her term as Naboo's queen, but it felt different this time. It'd been years since she was last without her compliment of bodyguards, and without Sabé or Fé. She wished she could have attended the funeral on Naboo.
…
Obi-Wan settled into the cockpit of his red and off-white Jedi starfighter, with R2-D2 in the astromech droid position just outside the transparisteel dome he sat under. He slid the headset in place over his hair and gestured at the droid with his chin. "Everything checking out, Artoo?" he asked. The droid bleeped affirmatively. "Good. Let's hope there really is a planet out there for us to find."
The starfighter lifted off the Jedi Temple's hangar floor, and hovered as it pivoted to face the hangar door. Once they'd made it out of Coruscant's upper atmosphere, Obi-Wan punched in the coordinates he'd discovered in the Archives and activated the fighter's compact hyperdrive. A constant roaring hum filled the cockpit as they bypassed light years of space, passing stars so quickly they blurred into white streaks on all sides of the dome. The Jedi settled in for a long journey.
Obi-Wan's nameless, invisible planet was beyond the edges of the Rishi Maze, almost a galaxy away. A Jedi's duties rarely took him that far from the reaches of the Republic, much less to an unknown destination. Without many Jedi-affiliated contacts in the nearby systems, he didn't know if he'd be able to find assistance should some unforeseen complication greet him. He'd need to be
cautious. At least, he could take some comfort in knowing his astromech droid was one of the best he'd ever encountered. Artoo was sure to keep his ship functioning long enough to get back to more familiar space, and that was an invaluable boon to any intergalactic traveler.
With the ship locked on course, Obi-Wan was able to rest. Had he been more at ease, he might have even taken a nap. The night before had been a long one, organizing for Anakin and Padmé's shuttle ride with no questions asked. It might've been easy on other planets, but Coruscant Security took their duties very seriously, as the chancellor expected them to.
Luckily, he had Ruta, and she'd chosen to stay out of the public eye for the past ten years. Out of all of their comrades in arms during the fight for Naboo, her name was the least likely to pique security's interest. He doubted any other Jedi would've enlisted a pilot-for-hire for such an important duty, but their adventure liberating Naboo proved her trustworthy. That, and he knew neither Anakin nor Padmé would have her sort of knowledge of the underworld, should the topic arise.
Sleep was a stranger to him, at least for the time being. He didn't know what awaited him, or if the assassin would know he was after him. The man had already proven himself to be more than a handful of trouble. Without Anakin or Coruscant's officers to help, he'd be even more troublesome. He was glad of one thing, however; with Anakin elsewhere, he could do things his way. There'd be no one around to rush him into danger prematurely or interfere with a cautiously-formed plan. That was a luxury he hadn't had in some time.
Obi-Wan meditated as he waited. It allowed him to be aware of the things around him, while allowing the Force to re-energize him. Its comforting warmth filled him and soothed his heavy, tired eyes, fighting back his fatigue.
"Soon you will face the darkness."
Obi-Wan's eyes shot open. He looked down at the comm. screen, but no channels were open. "Artoo, have we received any transmissions?" The droid squawked a no. "Well…did you hear anything just now?" Again, a no.
Obi-Wan reached up to rub his eyes with the fingers of one hand. He couldn't be that tired. He'd been on missions with both Qui-Gon and Anakin for longer periods, going without sleep in hostile environments, where closing one's eyes for too long meant death. Maybe it was the solitude. He couldn't remember a time he'd last been alone in hyperspace. There was no loneliness greater than that which existed in the void. He must've been imagining his own company.
"Have strength."
Again, a voice that wasn't his own. It sounded familiar, but he didn't know why. It seemed to be coming from a great distance, yet entirely in his own head.
"Have strength for your apprentice, Obi-Wan."
"Who's there?" he asked uneasily, wondering at once why he expected to carry on a conversation with a disembodied voice, "I feel like I know you." Artoo questioned him with a series of bewildered beeps. "No, no, everything's fine," he replied. After waiting several minutes, the voice refused to answer him. That, or it was unable. He wished he could remember where he'd heard the voice before. He let out a long sigh and shook his head, closing eyes once more for meditation. Perhaps time would reveal it to him.
…..
Padmé strolled through a wooded area just outside the small settlement on Vreni Island with Anakin by her side. Obi-Wan had organized for them to stay in the resort town, a place that was generally kept out of the public eye for the privacy of its affluent guests. The place they had been staying in was even more private than the classy hotel in which other vacationers resided, a sizeable house for rent. She wasn't sure where he'd gotten the money, or how much money Jedi usually had at their disposal, but she'd started to learn Obi-Wan had certain ways of getting things done most others might not consider.
Corellia turned out to be more serene than first impressions had suggested, once they left the clustered, urban area of Coronet. There were plains of amber grass and golden sand, as well as dense forests, wetlands and jungles, all underneath a calming orange sky. Padmé liked Corellia's forests and plains, the vegetation similar to certain areas of Naboo, aside from a lack of the color green. She also liked the quiet of the private home they'd been lodged in. With all the tourists busy enjoying themselves and the more public sites, it was rare anyone paid attention to their group.
The senator and her Jedi escort had veered off the popular paths in favor of reaching the far side where they were more likely to be left alone. The entire experience would have been relaxing and enjoyable if she wasn't constantly aware it was no vacation. She worried that, in her absence, other senators might become the assassin's next targets. She had no intention of calling the killer to her like she had on Coruscant, but she wished there was more she could do.
They emerged from the forest onto a short stretch of rock and sand that separated them from the sea. She sighed and picked a large, flat rock to sit down on and rest her legs while she watched the waves quietly push and pull before her, trying not to think about what was happening throughout the rest of the galaxy.
"This place reminds me of the lake country back home," she mused aloud, half-heartedly.
"Hm," she heard Anakin grunt from somewhere behind her. He rounded the rock and came to stand beside her, his arms folded. "Even with all the orange plants?"
"It's not the sights so much as the sounds," Padmé replied with a light chuckle, "and the feelings such surroundings induce. Swimming used to be one of my favorite pastimes, before I became queen." She let a sigh out through her nostrils, tilting her head while watching the sunlight glitter on the water's surface. "Things were simple, then. My friends and I used to race each other across the lake outside my family's country house, to reach an island that was little more than a patch of sand."
"Why?"
Padmé chuckled again. "To do what children do after they tire themselves out with a swim," she explained as if it were obvious, "to lie on the sand and daydream while the sun warms them dry."
"I can't say I relate," Anakin muttered, leaning his hip against the rock she sat on while staring out over the waves. At what, she didn't know. "The sand on Tatooine was usually too hot to lie in, and not very good for swimming," he joked, "nowhere to wash it off afterward, either. You'd just be stuck with this coarse, rough sand that gets everywhere."
"Very funny," Padmé said, her tone unimpressed.
"I did daydream," the padawan went on, "about flying starships, getting into dogfights with pirates, and bringing order to Mos Eisley, but never that I'd become a Jedi."
"Would you ever go back to see your family again?" Padmé asked, her mind being pulled back to a family she'd seen rarely as queen, and even more rarely once she became a senator. They knew she had her duty, as she did, and she enjoyed her chosen career in politics. But nostalgia could so easily breed longing for things no longer within reach.
"I don't know," Anakin replied. He sighed quietly, looking over at her, "it would make sense if I went back to Tatooine, but...it's not something we do; other Jedi usually don't even remember their families. The Order is our home."
"I see," Padmé murmured, leaning her head against her shoulder, "I can understand that."
There was a pause, though Padmé could sense tension emanating from Anakin while he stood beside her. He pulled himself off the rock, his arms still folded, and tapped his finger against the bicep of his other arm. It wasn't long before the padawan took a step forward and faced her, now standing slightly ahead of her, with a smile.
"How about we go for a swim now?" he asked, shrugging, "this brand of relaxation isn't easy for me, either."
Padmé grinned teasingly. "Do you know how to swim?" she asked, "I thought you said sand wasn't good for it."
"Necessity's a good teacher," Anakin replied, unfolding his arms to explain, "you see, when you're navigating the swamps of Vodran and a starving dianoga decides to pull your master underwater you better learn fast."
"Was that really the first time you learned how to swim?" the girl responded, her voice dripping with doubt.
"It really was," Anakin assured her, "I mean…Obi-Wan actually managed to save himself, but I still learned how to swim, and you can be the judge of how well I figured it out." He slid off his outer tunic and reached down to pull off his boots, then turned to face the water, holding out his hand for her to follow him.
Padmé narrowed her eyes at him, then sighed and stood up to kick of her slippers and remove her elegant, translucent sky-blue gown so only the light gray bodysuit she wore under it remained. She pulled the silver clasp out of her bun, allowing her braid to fall against her back, and stepped forward to take his hand. Anakin carefully led her down the rocky shore to the sea, where the edge gave way to a short drop into shoulder-deep water. There, he released her hand, but she lunged ahead of him to jump in before he could.
The sudden chill of the water was a shock. She dove under to twirl about and tread water while waiting for him to follow, gasping while her body became accustomed to the temperature. Anakin laughed and leapt in, splashing her when his body collided with the surface of the water.
They swam together along the coast, neither of their minds straying to the dire matters that had brought them to the planet. Padmé could tell by the way Anakin swam that if the story about the dianoga was true, he hadn't stopped practicing after Obi-Wan escaped the creature's tentacles. Nonetheless, he was no natural swimmer, and it was clear they both hadn't indulged in the activity in a long time. The two swam close together, often close enough for one to feel the flow of water from the other's strokes brush over their body.
They'd been swimming aimlessly, pausing to rest by floating or treading water, for ten minutes before they found themselves in an unplanned and unspoken race to the other side of the inlet. Padmé was easily outpacing Anakin, though she'd be the first to admit her advantage of being raised on a planet full of water made the contest unfair. Without warning, she felt his hand grasp her ankle and drag her backward in the water, causing her to yelp.
"I didn't know Jedi cheated!" she gasped indignantly after spitting salty water from her mouth.
Anakin laughed breathlessly and spun around to face her, blocking her course. "I have to win somehow!" he argued.
"Do you?" she demanded, putting both hands on his head to push him under the surface with all of her body weight, laughing. She treaded in place, waiting for his necessary comeback.
She was met with silence. "Anakin?" she called, looking down into the depths beneath her.
The water was dark under the setting sun, and there was still no answer. She realized then they had been fools to assume it was safe to swim out into an alien sea, regardless of the fact they knew nothing of the wildlife or the depth and location of its riptide. Had she unintentionally drowned her own bodyguard? Would she be able to reach shore before whatever took him dragged her down as well?
"Anakin!" she cried again, hoping her paranoia wouldn't prove to be vindicated.
She screamed when something grabbed her waist and pulled her beneath the waves, terrified at first, before her feet met the seabed, her head only inches from air. She breached the surface again while an arm wrapped around her waist, and she realized exactly what'd happened. Spinning around in a fury, she pounded in indignation against Anakin's chest with her fist.
He laughed, standing in the shallow water. "My apologies, Senator," he gasped, still chuckling between breaths, "I couldn't help myself."
"Do that again and you won't come back up," Padmé hissed angrily, her chest heaving as she worked to catch her breath.
She didn't push away from him, letting him hold her up while she rested her tired muscles. Anakin's shit-eating grin shrunk away and he gazed at her, his smile serene. She felt her heart flutter against her ribcage while they stared at each other in silence, surrounded by the red orange glow of the Corellian sunset and the quiet noises of half a planet readying itself for slumber. Their smiles melted away, while Padmé realized something she knew she should have known from the beginning. Or, in reality, something she'd already known, and had simply been denying in some attempt to maintain her professionalism. It seemed silly, then.
Anakin leaned down toward her, and she didn't stop him from kissing her gently. She rested her hands on his shoulders and returned the embrace, holding back what she was sure would look like an idiotic grin to him.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Anakin murmured after leaning back again, grinning in the way Padmé knew she wanted to.
"Why did you wait?" Padmé replied quietly. She paused, smirking at him with a tease in her eye, "shouldn't a Jedi be brave enough to take a chance?"
"A Jedi…" Anakin hesitated, his smile shrinking a little, almost disappearing, before he pulled it back from the brink. "A Jedi should love," he replied resolutely, his grin revealing a hint of mischievousness, maybe even defiance. Against what, she didn't know. "We should serve the Republic by loving its people." His gaze wandered away from her face, though he seemed too deep in thought to be truly interested in the darkening water it'd settled on. "To love is human," he concluded, his smile gone by then.
Padmé's brow furrowed in confusion. "Is there something I should know?" she wondered aloud.
Anakin huffed out a short laugh, shrugging. "The Council claims attachment is forbidden, but even Obi-Wan admits that isn't natural."
Padmé frowned. "How forbidden?"
"Well…"
The senator took her hands off the padawan's shoulders. "I don't want you to get in trouble with the Jedi Council!"
"I'm not new to getting in trouble," Anakin assured her, still holding her close, "besides, if I had to choose between the Council's opinion and you, the choice is obvious."
"Anakin, this is your future," Padmé reminded him emphatically, "not to mention mine. Scandals like this get senators hidden away where they can't embarrass the senate!"
"You'd throw this away for a reputation?"
"You know it's not that simple." Padmé pushed away from him and he allowed her to separate from him, to tread water on her own since she wasn't tall enough to stand like he did. "You just told me you used to daydream about all the good you could do for the galaxy, and now you have a real chance to enact it," she explained soberly, "I have a job to do everything I can to preserve and protect the Republic as a senator, and you have so much to do as a Jedi. We can't sacrifice everything we can do for the future of the galaxy, just to secure our own happiness; I'm not that selfish, and I know you aren't, either."
As much as she wished it weren't so, she had to remind herself about how important her place in the senate was. As one of the few politicians in the Republic who weren't in denial about the Separatist threat, and with several of her like-minded fellows assassinated, she couldn't afford to rob the people she served of one of their defenders, much less two. Anakin's gifts as a Jedi hadn't escaped her notice throughout the years and, although he was only a student, his name was already arising in some political circles as a Jedi to watch. He was on powerful people's radars, and she couldn't be the one to tarnish an ally in the fight for a Republic that didn't even realize how in danger it was.
"There must be some way it'd work," Anakin insisted, "I've never felt this way about someone before, and I want to see what it could become. What if this is our best future? We have to find out."
"I can't," the girl replied, her tone deliberately cold, "I have to think about my duty." Unwilling to give him the chance to dissuade her, she started the swim back to shore.
…
As Obi-Wan's starfighter began to drop out of hyperspace, he held his breath. It was a subconscious reaction to the unknown. Would there be a planet, or had the gravitational disturbance he thought he saw turn out to be no more than a glitch in the Archives' database? When he saw the dark blue-green orb, shimmering in the light of the system's central star that shone on the far side, he smiled.
"There it is," he breathed. He started the ship toward the mystery planet. "There doesn't appear to be a lot of land down there," he murmured, "Artoo, do a quick scan. Look for signs of civilization."
Artoo whirred his acknowledgment and a small sensor dish extended from the top of his dome. Obi-Wan looked down at the screen connected to the droid's sensors. As he'd suspected, the planet's surface was almost entirely water, aside from the solid ice caps. Landing on those didn't sound like a good idea. After only a few brief seconds, the sensors settled on a collection of artificial platforms, either floating in the water or hovering above its surface. Although he could see very little in the way of important details about the installation, there were at least a few landing pads.
Obi-Wan directed his ship downward, breaking through the planet's cloudy atmosphere and into the midst of a torrential storm. Heavy rain pelted the dome as the aerodynamic vessel carved through the powerful gale. It hovered briefly over the open landing pad before setting down. Obi-Wan took a moment to observe the installation from the relative safety of his fighter. There didn't appear to be turrets of any sort, which he was grateful for; if its inhabitants didn't appreciate guests, at least they wouldn't be able to shoot him down. The large platforms were round and enclosed, with domed ceilings to fend off the rain, and were connected by sturdy bridges. Beyond the windows within view, he wasn't able to see much, what with the brightness of the lights inside. That, or there was no one to see. He hadn't received any hails or orders to turn back, not a single acknowledgment of his landing, and that was deeply unsettling.
Obi-Wan released Artoo from his seat outside the hull before opening the dome and hurriedly exiting so he could close it without letting too much water inside. He doubted he was very successful. Once on the landing pad itself, he motioned for Artoo to follow him as he rushed toward the nearest door, using the hood of his cloak to keep the wind and rain from obscuring his vision.
To his relief, the door opened as he approached, and there was someone waiting for him. The alien was tall and incredibly slender, with flesh as white as the hallway they stood in. Its long arms were bent, its hands clasped in front of its abdomen. The alien slowly bowed its head to him.
"Master Jedi," it said, its voice feminine, "we were pleased to see you enter the system. After all this time, we were worried your Order had forgotten about us."
Obi-Wan returned the bow, then glanced at his surroundings. It was a plain hallway with glossy white walls, floors, and ceilings. It was cleaner than even the most fastidiously-maintained hospital, and he could only assume the rest of the complex was equally as sterile. Obi-Wan cleared his throat. He wondered if he should be honest with her and tell her he had no idea where he was, or why she'd been waiting for a Jedi to come there. She seemed a genial enough creature. The fact that she was unarmed and alone seemed proof enough that she, and whoever else might be within the compound, meant him no harm.
"I didn't realize I was being expected," he admitted.
The alien smiled. "We would not neglect so prestigious a client as a Jedi Master," she said, "I am Taun We, administrative aide to Prime Minister Lama Su." She bowed her head again. "He is anxious to show you our progress, as we have made plenty in your many years of absence." She gestured down the right side of the hall. "Right this way."
As Taun We started her way down the indicated hall, Obi-Wan glanced back at Artoo briefly, gesturing with his head, before following her. It seemed too strange that they were unaware of the Archive's tampering. Even stranger still was the knowledge that they thought him to be a client of theirs, when he didn't even know what kind of services they provided. He decided to play along, at least until someone realized how confused he was. The small party arrived in a large, round room where another alien of the same race as Taun We sat in a white chair, suspended off the ground from the ceiling. The alien stood gracefully when they entered.
"Master Jedi," he said, bowing his head in the same way Taun We had, "I am Lama Su, Prime Minister of Kamino. We are so glad of your visit. Production is on time and will be completed ahead of schedule. I am sure Master Sifo-Dyas will be pleased by what we have come up with. In truth, I was expecting him to come himself. He seemed very invested in the project."
Master Sifo-Dyas? Obi-Wan recalled the name. He'd been a member of the Jedi Council, before he was removed. The circumstances of his removal weren't wide-spread, and he'd never bothered to look into the matter; it hardly seemed his business, after all. He was glad, at least, that one of his questions had been answered. He was on Kamino. Likewise, he'd heard the planet's name before, though he knew little of it. He knew it was mostly water, and that it existed. However, he'd never heard of any Jedi being sent there on official business, not even Master Sifo-Dyas.
"I'm sure Master Sifo-Dyas would've been eager to come," he replied, "but, you see, he was killed several years ago. Ten, I believe."
"I see," Lama Su said, "you have my condolences, Master Jedi."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you. I am Master Kenobi." Again, he copied the Kaminoans' bow, sensing it was appropriate. "While I'm very interested in your progress, I'm also here on an investigation of great importance, if you would be so kind as to humor me."
"Oh? How unexpected," Lama Su replied, "we are, of course, willing to aid you in any way that will not compromise our enterprise."
"Thank you. I'll try to be quick, so we can get back to our business." Lama Su nodded obligingly. Obi-Wan reached under his cloak, where he'd stowed the datacard he brought with him from the Temple, and presented it to him. "The data on this drive pertains to a man I'm very anxious to find," he said.
The prime minister took the card in his slender hand and looked it over.
"We found a substance in his blood; one we believe came from your planet. Our Archives couldn't tell us anything more about it."
Lama Su gestured to Taun We with a wave of his empty hand. The aide proceeded to the center of the room and stopped in front of a small circular panel on the floor. She held out her hand, parallel to the circle, and a control panel emerged from beneath it. She stepped aside and Lama Su placed the datacard in the waiting slot. A holographic terminal display appeared in front of the panel. The prime minister nodded.
"Ah, yes," he said, "Jango Fett."
"I'm sorry?"
"This gene sequence belongs to one Jango Fett," Lama Su explained, "he is the one you seek, is he not?"
"I didn't know his name," Obi-Wan admitted, "are you sure it's Jango Fett? The famed bounty hunter?"
"I am familiar with the gene sequences of any individual we've worked with. You were curious about the chemical in his blood. It is secreted by one of our biological implants, meant to increase effectiveness in battle. It stabilizes one's nerves, and enhances reflexes."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Right, did he buy anything else?"
Lama Su tilted his head. "He bought nothing from us," he replied, "this implant was payment for services rendered."
Obi-Wan felt his heart leap. Had he unknowingly stumbled upon the assassin's employers? Surely, they must have known by then why he was there. "What…sort of services?" he asked slowly.
"He was one of our gene donors." Obi-Wan let a relieved breath out through his nose. "One of many, to be exact. He was recommended to us for his ideal physical and mental condition. We were happy to have his cooperation, and his template has been used many times in the development of our most advanced clones. To be precise, they are the clones we have developed for you and your Republic, Master Jedi."
Obi-Wan kept his shock from affecting his appearance. Why would the Kaminoans be making clones for the Republic, and why did no one seem aware of it, aside from the late Sifo-Dyas?
"Was that the information you were looking for, Master Kenobi?"
"It was more than I'd hoped for, actually," the Jedi replied, "do you have any way of contacting Fett?"
Lama Su tilted his head, just a little. "We have not seen him for over a decade," he replied, "but he did send word to us two days ago." Two days ago: their last encounter with the assassin on Coruscant. It was no coincidence. "His request to us was that we alert him should someone come looking for him," the prime minister continued, "we plan to honor that request. As we do not wish to join a side in anything that is not our business, I believe it is fair that I have warned you beforehand, so that you might react accordingly. You are seeking him for matters of your Republic laws, are you not?"
"You're very perceptive, Prime Minister," Obi-Wan replied, "do you have any insight as to what he might do when he finds out I've come?"
"I do not," Lama Su admitted.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I see. Then I guess I must take a risk. Would you mind if I remained here, in case he returns to ask about me?" The prime minister's long stalk of a neck recoiled slowly. "You don't need to worry," the Jedi added quickly, "I merely wish to speak with him. Starting a fight is last on my list of priorities."
Lama Su nodded. "A week should give you sufficient time to observe the work we have done here," he said, "we will be accommodating. If the bounty hunter does not arrive within that time, we must be left to our projects. It would be wise of you to report to your Senator by then. The Republic must be wondering about their clones by now."
"Senator," Obi-Wan repeated under his breath to himself curiously. He'd need to remember that. He cleared his throat. "Yes, you're right. We're both eager to see what progress you've made."
"I will show you myself," the prime minister replied. He moved to a door on the far side of the white room. It opened as he approached and he gestured for Obi-Wan to precede him. Once the Jedi had complied, he continued, "despite the abnormal size of your project, it is some of the best work we have done. The Republic senate will be very pleased, I'm sure."
"How large, exactly, is the project?" Obi-Wan asked, "I wasn't given every detail before my arrival. My investigation was too important to delay, you see."
"We group them into generations according to the batch they are produced in, and four generations are currently prepared for immediate deployment into battle," Lama Su replied, "but our process can be easily accelerated should the Republic have need of more troops." Obi-Wan had to restrain himself from asking what he meant by "battle" and "troops". There was no battle large enough for the need of troops, and neither the Senate nor the Jedi would have asked for a clone army that wouldn't have been ready in time to save Naboo from invasion. Whatever Sifo-Dyas was up to in contacting these cloners over ten years before, it could not have been something the Council was involved in.
"You mentioned you don't want to take a side," the Jedi went on, "does that mean you'd be willing to clone troops for the Republic's enemies, as well?"
"Only if those enemies wish to compensate us properly," the prime minister replied, even-toned, "I do not wish to limit our business prospects by casting my people as enemies, nor allies of our past clients."
"Of course, you must look out for the well-being of your people," Obi-Wan conceded. It was a stance he didn't entirely understand, given most parties in a war would see it as a threat, but he wasn't going to challenge the customs of a race he had no authority to question.
"As you say."
Following the tall alien, Obi-Wan rounded a corner and was faced with a long hallway, lined in windows that looked out upon an enormous chamber. The chamber was filled with complex machines whose exact functions he could only guess at. From floor to ceiling were tanks of unknown liquid, containing undeveloped fetuses, no doubt the younger generations the prime minister had alluded to.
Lama Su proceeded ahead of him, to another section of the chamber. After getting a quick eyeful of the clones' origins, Obi-Wan followed. The second, and last, section of the chamber was occupied by a nursery, where infants of two very distinct age groups were being cared for by automated nurses while other members of Lama Su's race oversaw their development. Although they were still very young, he could see they were of tanned complexion, with dark hair to match and brown eyes. It was but a glimpse of the man he hunted, but he made note of it.
"The clones take a mere two months to mature into infants from the embryonic stage, and are kept here until they are two months of age," the Kaminoan explained, "we, of course, accelerate their growth in these early stages and through their early childhoods, in order to meet our deadlines."
Obi-Wan kept himself from being too repulsed by the notion. Cloning of sentient beings was a controversial topic, and he preferred nature's way. It was bad enough that something so large-scale was happening, and that they were all human beings treated as products. It was made worse by the knowledge that they were robbed of their childhoods, and a significant part of the human experience.
"That makes sense," the Jedi forced himself to say, despite his misgivings. "Let us proceed."
Obi-Wan followed the prime minister into a room with three other exits, no doubt leading to chambers of similar size from the one they left. The alien chose the one to their left.
"Once they are one year of age, we begin their training." Obi-Wan looked down to see three different groups, each group separated by what should have been several years, but was likely no more than a few months, in various training chambers. The young clones ranged in age from children appearing no older than ten, to mid-adolescence. The face they shared was familiar to him; it was an exact copy of the face he saw when he confronted Fett's partner. He'd thought, perhaps, he was Fett's son…but now there were other implications.
"Were implants the only thing Fett requested as payment for his service to you?" the Jedi asked interestedly.
"Implants and one unaltered clone for himself were all he requested," the alien replied, "for what purpose, I know not, but we were happy to oblige such a cheap price."
"I see." That explained the uncanny resemblance, then. It was an intriguing look at the nature of the man beneath the bounty hunter's mask: a man who wished to be a father. Were Fett not committing assassinations, Obi-Wan would have thought it endearing. Given he was, in fact, a murderer, it was merely charming.
Each of the youngest clone children was focused entirely on drilling, studying, or target practice. They didn't spare a second to even acknowledge each other's presence. It didn't sit well with the Jedi, and he had his suspicions already.
"The smaller ones are so single-minded," Obi-Wan noted aloud, hoping to pry more information about the process from his host, "I hope they don't stay that way once their training is complete. They may need to improvise while…well, fulfilling their purposes."
"To facilitate fast learning, we suppress their individual purposes until after they have proven their proficiency," Lama Su replied, "this includes the minor personality differences that will be useful to the group as a whole."
"So, for now, they're basically just droids," the Jedi concluded, "droids that have yet to be programmed."
"That is a worthy comparison," the prime minster stated, "it is usually at the stage directly before adolescence that their basic learning is complete and the suppression lifted. Once they are mature, they will be more efficient than any droid army. As you must know, the human brain is capable of much more than that of a droid."
"Naturally. However, in my experience, a human's personality develops in these stages of early childhood. The relationships they form with each other could be instrumental to success as a group, and could also enhance the hierarchies they will need to have established among them later on."
"If our clients would prefer them to bond naturally, we are willing to remove the step of personality suppression."
"I believe that would be best, yes." Obi-Wan avoided outwardly expressing his satisfaction in knowing he'd been able to restore some decency to the clones' lives so easily. "I'd like to see the mature clones, if that's alright," he continued.
"They are property of the Republic," Lama Su reminded him, "as its agent, you are entitled to see every aspect of their production that does not endanger our trade secrets. While you are here, I will make their training regimens and personality specifications available to you, so they might earn your approval, or be changed according to the Republic's needs."
"I'd like that," Obi-Wan replied.
"This way."
The next chamber housed fully-grown men, all dressed in dark bodysuits, sharing a meal in a mess hall. By the presence of a barracks area in the distance, Obi-Wan assumed they'd spent their whole lives in the automated chambers he saw. He was pleased, at least, to see they were all capable of socializing with each other. Some even seemed capable of telling jokes, supported by the laughter they earned. Beyond the mess hall was another area where squads of clones with white, shining armor over their bodysuits were running through brief practice battle scenarios. Obi-Wan assumed Jango himself would appear slightly older than the assortment of apparent twenty-somethings in the chamber below, but he at least knew who to look out for.
"These are some members of the completed generations," Lama Su explained, "the eldest of them are of the third generation, who were perfected from the first two, experimental groups. They are all fully trained, matured, and ready for transport to Coruscant, should your senate desire it. Though they have been waiting here, they remain in peak physical and mental shape through daily practice."
"As you said, you've done fine work," Obi-Wan stated, turning his back to the window to face Lama Su.
The prime minister bowed. "We are pleased to have your approval, Master Jedi."
"I should make a preliminary report to Coruscant," Obi-Wan continued, "are your comm. signals strong enough to compensate for the distance?"
Lama Su nodded. "There is a holoprojector in the room we've prepared for you," he said, "you are welcome to contact whomever you like from that location. We request that you only use that one, specifically, for confidentiality. Some of our clients are skilled slicers and we value your privacy as much as you must."
"Thank you."
…
Master Yoda sat with three of the other High Council members-Master Mace Windu, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Master Shaak Ti in the Temple's council chamber. Before them stood the holographic image of Master Kenobi, reporting from the planet that was supposedly deleted from the Jedi Archives. Kamino was a planet of biologists and cloners. Why a council member thought it needed to be hidden was a mystery, even to the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order.
"I've discovered the assassin's identity," Master Kenobi continued, "his name is Jango Fett, the bounty hunter. Apparently, he's worked with the Kaminoans before."
"Do they seem aware of his crimes?" Master Windu asked.
"No," Master Kenobi replied, "they're not interested in getting too involved, either. They've only allowed me to stay for a few days, as their client."
"What mean you by this, Master Kenobi?" Yoda inquired.
"I've learned that Master Sifo-Dyas visited this planet just over ten years ago, and he has hired the Kaminoans to clone an army for the Republic."
Master Windu leaned forward. "An army?"
"Yes. Currently, there are over a million fully-developed clone soldiers ready for export to Coruscant. There are still several millions more in production and they show no sign of slowing down. I don't know the exact number yet; I've had to pretend I knew about all of this, to avoid causing alarm with my presence."
Yoda intertwined his six fingers and put them to his chin as he thought. An army that large could occupy several planets, and it was requested by a Jedi Master! Sifo-Dyas was known for his gift of foresight, as well as for his conspiracy theories, but such measures were nothing short of extreme. "The identity of the Master who defiled the Archives, we now know," he said, "but strange, this is. No need for such an army do we have."
"He believed war was on its way," Shaak Ti reminded him, "I would have guessed that he foresaw the Invasion of Naboo, but those troops would never have arrived in time."
"A force this large wouldn't have been necessary on Naboo," Kenobi added, "perhaps he foresaw something else, something we aren't aware of yet. By the deadlines he gave the Kaminoans, my guess is it will happen any time between now and the next three years."
"If it happens," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi corrected him.
Master Ti nodded. "It was his belief in this future conflict that caused him to step down from his seat on the Council," she said, "I believe it will happen, but not that the Republic should make the first move. Any one of our enemies could see this sudden army building as an act of war."
"Then I suppose we know why Master Sifo-Dyas chose to hide it," Master Kenobi surmised.
"Expected to move this clone army, are we?" Yoda asked.
"Not yet. The Kaminoans are happy to house them, for now. Likewise, I think it's best that I remain here. Apparently, Fett prepared for my arrival. It's possible he might return to confront me."
"Remain, you must," Yoda agreed, "if no results have you, track the bounty hunter down, you will."
"Yes, Grandmaster."
When the channel remained open, Yoda tilted his head slightly. "More to say, have you?" he asked.
Master Kenobi's stance shifted, suggesting reluctance. More bad news. "I don't have sufficient proof to make any accusations, but I noticed something else while talking to the Kaminoan prime minister."
"Treat it as no more than a theory, we will," the grandmaster assured him.
"Thank you," the hologram replied, "although it was only a brief mention, Minister Lama Su said I should make my report to my 'senator', as if he meant someone specific. I don't know who he might've been referring to, but I'm hoping I might work the answer out of him later. If I'm right,
Master Sifo-Dyas was collaborating with someone in the Senate. I'll contact the Council again if I find out more."
"Good work you have done, Master Kenobi," Yoda told him gratefully.
"Thank you, Grandmaster," he replied, "you can expect an update within the week."
The comm. channel closed after Master Kenobi's quick, dutiful bow. Yoda looked to Master Windu, then to Master Ki-Adi-Mundi and Master Shaak Ti. He could sense the apprehension in them. It was a feeling he shared. "Fund this army alone, Master Sifo-Dyas could not," Yoda stated, "help elsewhere had he. Discover where, we must."
"He covered his tracks well," Master Ti said, pursing her lips "I don't think there will be much to find."
"Yet search, we will," the grandmaster replied, "for dangerous may this news be. Inform the other Council members, I shall."
Master Windu nodded his agreement. "It's possible Master Kenobi's rumored senator had something to do with the funding. But something like this had to be expensive, more than any one senator could afford on their own."
"I will keep careful watch in my dealings with the Senate," Ki-Adi-Mundi promised, "but we must keep this quiet. If the Senate learns the Council is investigating its members, they will easily turn defensive, and possibly hostile."
Shaak Ti acknowledged the sentiment with a concerned frown, then turned her attention to the grandmaster, "if the Council and Senate agree to embrace this army, I would like the chance to visit Kamino for myself."
Yoda nodded his agreement. "We will see."