I hadn't expected it to be, but eating was the hardest part. It worked best if I just zoned out, let instinct take over, and didn't think about what I was doing. Fortunately I found the Gungan fare we were offered to be surprisingly delicious.
"Yousa bombad Jedi?" A spear-wielding young Gungan approached me where I sat at the fire, eating a roasted frog.
"Hello there," I nodded in response. "Obi-wan Kenobi. Yes, I'm a Jedi. I'm afraid I have to meditate before battle tomorrow, so I won't be able to spar with you. No offense intended." This wasn't the first time I'd been approached for such.
"Okie-dey," he said. "Mesa Tubo, have question. Yousa Jedi, no besa lyings-ings."
A common misconception. "What is your question, Tubo?"
"Da hisen, dey wanna be ussen friends? Or just need ussen hep?"
We were not in a secluded corner, and I noticed his question had attracted some attention from other nearby locals. At least a dozen Gungans could hear us, although most at least pretended to be eating or otherwise engaged rather than openly eavesdropping.
It, again, took a minute of focus for me to reach down and draw out an answer; I hoped more questions that depended on Obi-wan's particular skills and knowledge weren't required on this journey. "I can't speak for all of the humans on Naboo, or even all the soldiers you're fighting with. But the queen is sincere."
"Dat bitty-un? Shesa really bombad queen?"
"She is, yes. And she really wants the Gungans and the humans to be friends. Not just during this battle, but forever."
"Yousa want dat too?" He gave me what seemed like an appraising look.
"I do," I agreed. "A lot is happening in the Galaxy, and right now the Gungans don't take any notice of it. As far as the Republic is concerned, 'Naboo' means 'Theed.' That should change."
"Wesa no care 'bout da 'Public! Wesa no wanna be bothered!" He slammed his spear into the ground in frustration.
I didn't have much to say to that, and the strain of the conversation was increasing, so I just nodded and finished my meal.
When I answered the summons, I found Padme dressed practically in Nabooan field kit, the same as Ric. The two of them were both cleaning their stripped rifles.
"I'm glad you followed my advice," I nodded appreciatively at the A-180. It was a flexible blaster rifle that was actually still in the beta-testing stage at BlasTech, but I knew it would become one of the most widely used all-purpose weapons and, in a few decades, ubiquitous in the Alliance.
"Is it time?" she asked, not bothering to look up.
"Sorry?" I had an idea of what she was asking, but I needed to make her say it
"For you to explain." She looked up at me as she finished checking the lenses. "We're assaulting the Palace tomorrow. I'm in nominal command of my forces, leaving tactical decisions to the generals, and I still don't know what one of our key assets is doing." She put her weapon entirely down, stepping toward me, her arm extending towards my face. "Worse, camp security says you're wearing a-"
"Stop." The voice didn't sound like me at all, I realized… no effort to modulate the pitch. "Padme, if this has any chance of working, you need to leave it be. Stop probing, call off security. Let me alone until the battle is over."
"We had plans, or don't you remember?" Padme frowned. "Snipers, to dispatch the Sith from a distance. Droids, to bypass Force Clouding. Drones…"
"And all of that may still come into play in the future," I insisted, trying again to sound more like me. "But for tomorrow, the biggest risk is that Darth Maul won't be there. He's the sniper blaster aimed at our back, and this is the one time we know where he's firing from."
"I see." She looked intensely at me, as though she could somehow see through my solemn expression.
I decided to change the subject. "Were you able to convince the Gungans to make those preparations we discussed?"
She nodded. "I'm still not sure I understand the point. It was mainly the heavy artillery bombardments that overwhelmed Theed, not the droid infantry."
"This is a very different sort of battle," I explained. "First of all, the Gungans don't have to inflict any casualties on the Federation Army at all: they just have to keep them there for our assault on the Palace. Second, the Gungans are only vulnerable to closing attacks thanks to their forcefields. Positioning is everything."
"Many of the droid tank units have hover capability, though," Padme pointed out, "so even when we collapse the dug trenches, they'll be able to get over it."
"But the bulk of the droid infantry won't. With trench defenses and the cavalry maneuvers we discussed, the Gungans will be doing what we want them to do - tying up the droids in futile delays, not engaging in a pitched melee."
"As you say." She eyed me warily once more, but I sensed her acquiescence… which was good, because I had about reached my limit. "May the Force guide you tomorrow, Obi-wan Kenobi."
"May the Force be with us all, Padme Amidala."
The next morning, I learned that eating wasn't half as hard as wielding a lightsaber. In fact, the first time I went to deflect a blast and stepped forward to slash into it instead of raising a guard, I almost lost it right there. But, again, I made no effort to exert control, and allowed instinct to do the work.
The Palace certainly looked different under the control of the Trade Federation. The droid guard was minimal, as the bulk of the forces had been drawn to the battle on the plains. Still, out guard traded plenty of blaster fire with droids and Federation officers as we found and liberated the Nabooan fighter pilots.
Lifting Annie to place him in a starfighter was a strange sensation, and I froze as he gave me a hug. "Sorry, was that okay?" he asked breathlessly.
"Yeah. Do good out there, okay, buddy?" I told him as I helped him strap in.
"We're gonna win this thing. Right Artoo?"
**Affirmative.**
I joined Qui-Gon, Padme, and the rest of the strike force just as they opened the door exiting the hangar - and were confronted by the form of Darth Maul. The Nabooans were well-briefed, and immediately ran in the opposite direction, leaving Qui-Gon and I to face the Sith Assassin.
I felt the calm of my Master next to me, and the intense excitement and festering hatred of the man before me. As both discarded their cloaks and thumbed their lightsabers, I smiled, and deactivated the personal holo-projector at my belt.
Darth Maul's smile faltered, and I felt just a sliver of fear enter his mind as he found himself confronting, not Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi, but rather Masters Qui-Gon Jinn and Kit Fisto. "Thanks, kid; I'll take it from here," was the last thing I heard myself say before my vision of the scene was swallowed in shimmering blackness.
I opened my eyes in the meditation chamber of the Tranquility Spire, from which I had not moved in the forty-four hours since I had first created my link to Master Fisto as the latter donned my holographic disguise. I disliked a ploy that put myself out of harm's way, and another Jedi's life at risk. Still, it would have been hypocritical of me not to do everything in my power to see the story changed, and balance Adi Gallia's death with the survival of my Master.
Exhausted, I went to find some water, and a place to wait for news.