Chapter 2
Their restaurant reservation was for thirteen hundred hours, so Anakin had plenty of time to get there. The exclusive Diamond Waterfall locale was outside the main city of Theed, therefore the plan was to travel straight there from their estate without passing by the Ministry where his wife worked.
It meant some uninterrupted driving time, along mostly empty speederways through the Naboo countryside. He liked being at the yoke of a 'speeder, especially since the opportunities to fly a starfighter were far fewer in peacetime. Civilian driving was, he considered, a far cry from vaping Separatist craft in space battles waged for the preservation of the Republic. However, it was also the closest thing he could manage to the thrill of an old childhood passion he no longer engaged in.
He was humming along past the ancient ruins of Fivespur Castle in the distance, when the in-vehicle comm pinged. Master Skywalker thumbed the connection in both annoyance at being bothered and curiosity about who was calling.
"Anakin here. Talk to me."
"Boss, we've been tryin' to comm you for hours! Nobody-"
"Sorry, I was indisposed," he interrupted smoothly. "I'm having trouble placing your voice: you work for me?"
"Yeah, boss. I run your team. Well, me and Tink do, sorta, though I do the hard stuff, she does a lot of complaining and criticising, with a bit of datawork thrown in. No offence, I mean, she's good, but, you know."
"I understand. And what 'team' would that be?" He was confused by the gibberish, given the man on the other end did not sound like a Jedi employee. Not even from the Agricultural Corps.
"Oh, I get it," said the caller with a spark of comprehension. "This is some kinda test, right? Whadyacallit, on-the-job assessment? New management technique?"
"Exactly," lied Skywalker. "Humor me, and play along."
"Well, sir," said the stranger slowly, allowing himself a moment to think. "My name's Seldin Yat, Rodian from, er, Rodia. I'm head mechanic of your podracing team-"
"My podracing team?!" echoed the Jedi in disbelief. "I own a…?" He let the sentence peter out before saying something stupid in front of a subordinate. "Yes. Right. So, what can I do for you, Yat?"
"You can authorise the bloody replacement parts we need to fix Rikki's pod for next week's race!" he exploded. "The entire repulsor system needs subbin' out, because he piloted the stanged thing too fast around a bend and blew out so many seals at once it set a track record. If we don't get the parts in right away, either Rik'll have to race in Desko's pod, which he's not used to, or Desk'll have to be our number one rider and we forfeit our second entry which means we lose points in both the pilots' and the constructors' rankings…"
"Get to the nub of the matter. How much will it cost?"
"We're lookin' at forty thou, boss," said Seldin forlornly. "The timing's totally last-minute, the labour, the precise specificationin' of the specifications. It's gonna be fiddly to-"
"Stop. How much will it really cost?" Anakin grinned to himself as he drove. He sensed in the Force that his man was, not exactly innocently but less than maliciously, inflating the estimate. No one, no matter how cunning, could fool a powerful Jedi.
"Fine, sir," grumbled the Rodian with a noise that sounded like a deflated beep. "I was errin' on the side of caution, like, since it seems you're a bit incommunicado, as we say on my homeworld. Might be more in the borgleballpark of thirty kays, but if we have difficulty sourcin' the tougher parts the total could rise to nearer forty. That's all I was sayin'. Jus' bein' careful, you see, since I might not be able to contac' you later."
"I see. Well, we can't have our best racer out of the contest, can we? As the saying goes on my homeworld, you enter to win the race." He gave a single dry laugh. "You can spend up to thirty thousand credits on the repairs; anything above that, gets deducted from your wages if I feel like you've failed me. Understood?"
The poor Rodian was not happy, but could not complain. After a few final monosyllables, he gave his regards to his boss and disconned.
That was fun, mused Anakin. I like owning a podracing team; sure, it's not as much of a thrill as piloting, just safer and more prestigious.
Details flowed into his mind as he strove to remember them. The discussions with Padmé about investing in the sport together. The authorisation from the Jedi Council for him to be a high-profile 'racing owner, made possible by his status as an autonomous Master not based at the Temple on Coruscant. The entertaining of friends and business contacts in his luxury box at a score of races in the Mid and Outer Rim – except the Boonta Eve Classic, which he made a point not to attend for some reason… Why's that? Oh yeah, because I hate-
A wave of warning through the Force intruded upon his reminiscences, as danger pricked him like a poisoned dart to the neck. In a flash he widened his mental focus from internal to external, scanning the landscape through the transparent cockpit as if reconnoitring in Separatist-held territory. Nothing unusual met his gaze, leading him to believe it could be a false alarm, possibly caused by the tender state of his head.
Until a small black silhouette in his rearview monitor grabbed his attention. With its viewports obscured and any sort of identifying elements removed, the thing filled him with suspicion. It looked very much like an undercover military or security services vehicle, in its brazenly obvious secretiveness. But along a remote roadway, on a quiet planet like Naboo, during a time of undisturbed peace across the Republic, its appearance was jarring.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
Skywalker cautiously tapped the yoke, increasing his velocity as a test. Not only did the mystery 'speeder do likewise, it began to close the gap between them. As it did so he noted that it was a repulsorvan – larger, heavier, and with more passenger space than his own sporty model. Several dangerous possibilities came to him based on those characteristics.
"Okay, pal. You wanna race?" he chuckled with feigned nonchalance. Despite the disquiet in his heart, the situation reminded him again of past adventures. "This is where the fun begins."
He gave more throttle, pushing his engines beyond the notional velocity limit. By all logic, his smaller, sleeker vehicle should outrun any civilian craft of those larger dimensions. And if it could not… He refrained from putting his reasoning into words for the moment, in the hope it would not be relevant.
The mystery 'speeder matched his acceleration exactly. For what seemed like hours rather than minutes, they moved in perfect synchronicity down the 'way, regardless of Anakin's attempts to create further separation. He felt like a star wide-half in a borgleball match subjected to rigorous man-marking by a defender intent on stopping him from scoring.
At least they're not trying to tackle me… yet, he thought. If it was bad guys, surely they'd be more aggressive?
With that in mind, he swung to the opinion it could be someone testing him, for some reason. Perhaps the Jedi Order was checking up on him, seeing whether he remained mentally sharp in his semi-autonomous role. Indeed it would not be out of character for his old Master, from a certain point of view. Obi-Wan remained devoted to his former apprentice and good friend; yet, down the years, they were not averse to needling each other like a couple of rambunctious siblings.
"It's been a while since we last spoke. Has Master Kenobi sent someone to contact me?" wondered Skywalker. "Maybe my instinct was wrong to sense danger approaching. Though surely they'd have commed first… unless it's too sensitive to discuss over the spacewaves. A special mission! Or some important news."
He slowed down suddenly, only to see the pursuit vehicle decelerate in turn. It kept the same distance between them, instead of closing the ground when given the opportunity. If it's someone who wants my attention, wouldn't they take the chance to approach?
The inability to grasp the situation he found himself in irritated Anakin. He always liked being in control, or at any rate understanding a scenario in which he was not. A probe in the Force told him nothing useful. Perhaps his abilities were still out of focus after the accident, for he only vaguely felt energy signatures from within the vehicle. Maybe they're asleep at the yoke, he joked. Or they're hiding their presences in the Force…
Confused and discomfited, the Jedi continued driving out of inertia. Uncounted kilometres flew by, neither attenuating nor crystallising his fears. He would have preferred for something to happen either way, rather than dwelling in ambiguity. Clarity was much preferable.
"What the kark are they doing?" he swore at last to vent his irritation. "Are they going to follow me all the way to… the Diamond?"
The knowledge of whom he was meeting there sat heavy in the pit of young Skywalker's stomach. He remembered all too well the assassination attempts on then-Senator Amidala, how hard he and others had worked to protect her during the Clone Wars. He would not, repeat, not allow anyone to endanger her again! His beloved's safety was the most important thing in his life, and by extension in the entire galaxy. He would do anything to protect her. Absolutely anything. The official sanction of his marriage only bolstered his determination even more compared to when they had loved each other in secret.
Master Kenobi would have reprimanded him for letting his passions flow so raw and unchecked in that moment, prey as he was to fear, anxiety, and prospective self-loathing if he failed to keep Padmé from harm. The contradiction still stymied him, insufficiently elucidated by the wise Masters he had trained with, learned from, served alongside for nearly twenty years – how Jedi were always told to search their feelings, yet also repress their attachments and emotions to such an extent they dwindled to a theoretical value of zero. It was impossible to behave that way, without becoming more machine than man…
Immersed in his ruminations, Skywalker failed to realise what was about to happen until it did. The mysterious driver of the repulsorvan did not remain satisfied with maintaining a distance; now it continued to accelerate, eating away at his lead, metre by metre.
Somehow, counterintuitively, the larger vehicle had the engine to overhaul Anakin's sporty craft. It should not have been quite so easy, and supported his speculation about a military entity with access to high-powered technology. The young man's pride was also hurt, since he had believed his personal transport to be superior to all others in circulation; he and Padmé had paid plenty when they purchased it a couple of years earlier from Theed's fanciest dealership. It was a joke between them to refer to the 'speeder as his personal flagship, the Executor.
The pursuer put on an extra burst and hovered at a mere length behind its quarry. For a moment Skywalker considered slamming on the brakes, before dismissing the idea. When dealing with two equal 'speeders, it might have had a chance of working; but it was a certainty that the heavier 'van would crush his roadster like an AT-TE trampling battle droids. He knew a Jedi must not be so impetuous about his own life and others'.
Unfortunately, the repulsorvan appeared to have no such qualms about endangerment, for it tapped the rear of Anakin's 'speeder in a threatening fashion. The objective now seemed to be to cause an accident, to force him off the roadway. The polite intimidation of its first appearance was replaced by an outright attack… directed at him, and by implication at his wife.
Nanoseconds before it accelerated into his rear fender, the Jedi made a decision. A dangerous one. In a flagrant breach of traffic regulations, Master Skywalker skipped his landspeeder three metres off the ground and over the dividing median of the speederway. Now on the wrong side of the flow of traffic, he would have been struck by oncoming vehicles if not for the fact it was a deserted section of rural road. Relieved that it was indeed so, he spun his vehicle one hundred eighty degrees and began travelling back in the direction from which he came.
The black 'van did not attempt to replicate his airborne manoeuvre. Instead, it simply smashed through the metal barrier before turning around and following his backward route. If a hunk of durasteel could look angry, this one did as it grew larger in his rearview monitor.
Within a few kilometres Anakin's lead was again reduced to negligible. He could think of nothing besides playing the same trick again, so he skipped into the opposite roadway and turned around again, travelling toward the Diamond Waterfall as per his original itinerary.
His pursuer crashed through the barrier in the same way as before, and more quickly than the first time since it must have learned what to expect from the previous go-around. Master Skywalker performed the evasive manoeuvre a further five times; however, he was unable to shake the pursuit, and only worked himself into a frenzy in the process.
"What's the point of this poodoo?" cried Anakin in frustration. "I'm going in circles, round and round like an idiot. This isn't podracing!"
Indeed, the circular nature of his travel began to resemble the – arguably pointless – repetitive trajectory of a 'racing event. Pushing his craft to the limits of speed and manoeuvrability, in the face of opponents willing to bump or knock him out of contention, only to return, lap after lap, to the starting point, having made no actual progress toward a destination.
Putting his quandary into familiar imagery from his childhood triggered a new observation in his mind. This rigmarole's having the effect of keeping me away from Padmé, he determined. Maybe they don't want to catch me, they just want to keep me busy… while something bad happens to her.
The dread caused Master Skywalker to boil with anger, as he unconsciously reached into the Force for a boost of its intoxicating power. The enemy was intent on driving him off the road, was he? Then Anakin would give him a taste of his own bacta.
He twisted around in his seat, and held a hand out toward the pursuing repulsorvan. Tapping into the Force flowing through his being, he gestured sharply to one side and near-effortlessly threw the black craft from the speederway. At the speed it had been going, the transferred momentum became unstable above the fields that constituted the roadside: the unfortunate 'van began to wobble from side to side, careening out of control.
The Jedi watched as the vehicle turned on its side and continued rolling across the grassy surface, over and over and over. He half expected the crashing noises to be capped off by a fiery explosion like in an action holo, though none was forthcoming. The black mass rested upside-down on its roof, dented and smoking from its engine.
Anakin debated whether to simply go on his way, fleeing the scene of the crime, the evidence of his loss of control. Though they had good lawyers and plenty of credits, a Naboo court might consider his action to be a form of attempted murder; a Jedi Master using deadly Force in an arbitrary manner was reckless, criminally negligent, even without the malice aforethought to kill. For his part, it was an accident, a defensive gesture born out of harassment, out of provocation by the stranger whose actions broadcast hostile intent. But notwithstanding the extenuating circumstances, Jedi were not supposed to be so fallible. Once more the memory of reprimands from the likes of Masters Kenobi, Yoda, Windu and others rushed into his brain.
Finally, he heard the voice of his informal mentor Uncle Sheev, giving him a key piece of advice. "You have special abilities. And with those abilities comes the responsibility to oversee the galaxy."
He pulled over from the roadway and brought his 'speeder to a stop, before leaping from it and running to the overturned 'van. He yanked open the driver-side door with an ear-punishing metallic shriek.
"Hey!" he called out. "Can you hear me? Are you-?"
His show of concern was cut short by a chilling observation. For inside the mystery vehicle, there was no one. Not human, not alien, not hurt or unscathed, not even a droid. It was, evidently and bafflingly, empty.
Plunging to a new level of bewilderment, Skywalker inspected the controls as they yawned before him upside-down. Nothing appeared unusual. There was no sign of a remotely-controlled guidance system, or a self-driving mechanism – he was handy enough with 'speeders and electronics to identify any such modifications to a standard array. Yet the evidence before him was equally extraordinary, if not actually impossible. The speedervan that had followed him back and forth along the roadway, reacting to his movements in real time, was not being driven by anyone.
Calm down, Ani, he ordered himself. There'll be an explanation for all this… There has to be. Trust the Force.
Withdrawing his head from the cockpit, the idea struck him to check the rear compartment as well. As he threw open the back panels, he saw again that there were no living beings within. There was no room for them anyway. For the entire hold was filled, from bottom to top, with travelling cases. Nothing else. They looked like the belongings of a small passenger ship, unloaded at a spaceport. How in blazes had such a cargo ended up attempting to ram a Jedi Master's 'speeder?!
Anakin had had enough of the mind-boggling absurdity. He turned and trotted back to his 'craft to get out of there