a/n-thanks for them reviews :D Also, I think earlier when I put in Kreet I never said who Kreet was/did/anything. Kreet's oc, and just a reporter.
"Come here, boy," spat the Master.
Anakin strode forward, eyes blazing. Why did everyone insist on calling him that? He wasn't a little boy anymore. He had proven himself, time and again, regardless of morals, regardless of the Count's disappointment, regardless of all the obstacles placed in his way. He saw the unfairness in the galaxy, in his own situation, but he agreed with his Master and the Count and had acted accordingly.
Usually the Master called Anakin by his name, a lone sustaining voice in a sea of disapprobation. Not now. Any time the Master thought Anakin had lost his way, his Master changed into a different creature entirely. It wasn't fair.
Anakin tried to control his frustration. This man envisioned a galaxy without turmoil, where people wouldn't suffer like Anakin had, or worse. Anakin wanted to believe in his master.
"Kneel."
Anakin knelt down, one knee sinking to the floor, but barely inclined his head, eyes focused on Master Palpatine's red collar. So many things in the room were red, the carpet and curtains a dull red, the desk a dark brown-red, the Master robed in red. The room wasn't too different from the Master's private office on Naboo, but the closed windows and doors stifled the air, and he felt like he was back on Tatooine, burning up even as the twin suns set. He took a breath through his tightening throat, too warm but not quite sweating.
"I did as you ordered, Master. They are willing to cooperate-"
"Silence!"
Anakin clenched his teeth, hands tightening to fists.
"Insolent boy." Anakin's eyes flicked up to see his Master's eyes swirling molten red and gold instead of their usual blue. They became slits right before the Master raised his hands, and Anakin felt a burning-cold pain lace through his body, metallic pinches forcing him to extend and contract with the waves of lightning barraging his body, unable to breath, unable to think, just wanting the pain to go away, wanting to know what to do to make the pain go away.
It stopped, and he gasped in air. His body still convulsed. He was laying face-first on the floor. His whole body ached. His knees and hands felt like they had slight rug-burns. A groan escaped, but he cut it off short and tried to control his breathing. Everything smarted, but as the physical pain ebbed Anakin remembered his pride.
He forced himself to push off the ground and kneel again, jaw set as he glared at his Master, chest heaving.
"You think to challenge me, boy?" The Master rose from his chair and rounded the desk. Reaching Anakin, he placed a fatherly hand on his head and whispered, "I'm afraid you have much to learn, my very young apprentice."
"But I did what you asked," Anakin insisted roughly, still catching his breath. The hand on his head caught in loose curls, nails scraping the skin.
"And almost revealed the entire operation," the Master finally explained, almost conciliatory, before slapping Anakin. "If I wanted it to be blatant, I would not have sent you. Now, get out of my sight."
Not for the last time, Padme questioned her choice of establishment. Here she was at the bar (yet again), searching for information (yet again), without backup (yet again). She felt safer this time as she was not tailing someone, yet not, as she went without Captain Typho's knowledge or approval. If she got into trouble, she was on her own.
Padme came with two objectives. One, see if any of the thugs from the previous occasion frequented the place. Two, make contact with her helper should they appear. The organization who had killed Kreet would be easier to investigate with someone not as high profile as herself, and someone who helped once could be persuaded to help again. Although, she doubted that many people recognized her down here, and she had disguised herself sufficiently that the Besalisk hitting on her didn't recognize her.
"As I was sayin', you humans rarely get to know the full pleasures of Coruscant's lower levels, and I know all the best places." He winked and put one arm around her shoulder, another around her waist. Padme firmly shoved his hands off. "Just bein' polite, little lady."
Her grip on her drink tightened. Not only was she unable to search the backroom for any possible clues remaining after a week, but the Besalisk was still forcing physical contact and conversation after she had said no, multiple times. She stood to leave, but the Besalisk yanked her back down.
He frowned. "That's not very nice."
A snort from the right. A human male, swirling his drink with a spoon, eavesdropping on their conversation. Padme wondered at his appearance. Had he been there the whole time and she hadn't noticed?
"As I was sayin'," the Besalisk tried again, but another snort stopped him.
"Look, buddy, I don't think she wants to hear it." The stranger didn't look over at them, taking a draw of his drink and thumping the glass back down. "You'd best move on." Padme narrowed her eyes at the man-what was his angle?
The Besalisk looked at the man before breaking into a laugh, yanking Padme back into another grip. She roughly pushed him off, failing to dissuade the Besalisk. "I don't think you can make me."
"I don't think I'm the one you need to worry about," the man said, glancing sideways at Padme. "I've seen her shoot." The Besalisk looked over at her too, confusion and newfound wariness in his gaze. With the Besalisk's eyes off of him the man whipped a dart out of his sleeve and stuck the Besalisk with it. The Besalisk slumped forward. The man's hand retracted so swiftly, that Padme blinked at the speed. Regular humans with those sort of reflexes had cyber or genetic enhancements. Unless they were Jedi, of course, but he didn't look like a Jedi. Perhaps he was Force-sensitive, she mused.
The man lifted his drink in a toast to her, and drained the rest of it down. He dashed some credits on the table near the Besalisk's upper right hand, and called the Balosar bartender over. She heard a muttered, "Sorry for the mess," but not the bartender's reply that made the man grin and the bartender's antennapalps quiver. The man stood up and sloppily saluted Padme from the other side of the Besalisk. "My lady."
That salute. Padme eyed his departure, then made up her mind. Hurriedly, she tossed her credits on the table and followed.
Despite his height, he was ambling slowly through the masses. She caught up quickly. "Hey!" He looked back in surprise but didn't stop. Padme matched her pace to his, dodged a ground walking the other way. "Thanks for doing that back there. And the...other time."
He flashed a grin. "You're welcome." Padme sighed noiselessly in relief that he was the person from before. Her only trouble now was to broach the subject of espionage, and convince him to help.
Unsure of how to start, she asked, "What'd you give him?"
"Nothing illegal. He'll be fine soon, might forget the whole thing." He waved off any possible ramifications with a gloved hand. "The barkeep will take care of him." They turned down another busy street. This area of the lower levels was vibrant, almost pleasant with its festive air, but Padme knew a few turns would take her into dangerous alleyways. What she would give for a day on Naboo.
"For all your hard talk, that was a surprisingly peaceful end," she noted.
"You don't approve? Would you have preferred some aggressive negotiations?" the man said, chuckling.
"I didn't say that." She squeezed closer for a moment as another group passed, one person elbowing her slightly. "I appreciated your resourcefulness."
"I see." The conversation lapsed as Padme was distracted by their surroundings, as she rarely came down here. They passed various stands, food and textile, tinkers and mechanics. Behind the stands were bars, hotels, and the rare open courts. Above air traffic screamed by. Padme could feel the congestion building in her throat. Coruscant was many things, and clean was never one of them.
"You're not going to follow me all the way home, are you?" the man asked, halting to eye her. "I would rather you didn't." Despite his nonchalant tone, his fingers were tapping rapidly against his leg.
"Don't flatter yourself." Padme gathered her thoughts and decided to take the plunge. "Do you want a job?"
At his disgruntled expression she added, "I need help investigating around here, and your quick-thinking could be useful. As you can see, I am not yet used to the environment." Padme could handle investigating Burtoni, and had other well-positioned allies should she require assistance. But she wanted to know more about the group trying to blackmail Burtoni, as they might give up information more willingly.
He shifted his weight and folded his arms. "Is this about the goons from last time?"
"Yes. They have blackmail on...an associate of mine." She spoke hesitantly. It would not be wise to give out information before he agreed to help.
"What is this blackmail?" he probed, eyes glinting. They locked eyes, and Padme felt like he was an interrogator instead of a potential spy. She stood her ground, but his gaze made her feel uncomfortable. She was at a disadvantage, and she did not know why. Another group of people walked past them, and Padme backed down.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, and his posture relaxed. He gestured for them to start walking again, and she followed. What a strange reaction, she thought, frowning. "My friend is a very private person."
"Do you know who the others were?"
Padme shook her head. "Only the woman they killed, Kreet Sabal. She was a reporter who frequently hung around the Senate building, one of the ones more likely to publish scandals. But she seemed to know them. They may have been sources on other stories or came to Kreet because of her previous articles."
He nodded thoughtfully at her comments, then his head turned as though he'd heard something. Padme looked around to see what he saw, but before she could discern anything other than that they were standing by her speeder he said, "I'll do it."
"Really?" Padme blinked. "We haven't discussed payment yet, or how to relay information-we don't even know each other's names!"
"You wouldn't happen to pay in Wupiupi, would you?" At her bemused no he chuckled dryly. "500 credits, same time same place, and you can call me Ani." He took one of her hands and bowed over it, and Padme felt the barest brush of breath against her knuckles. "My lady."
With that, he whirled and rapidly withdrew into the scarce groups of people.
"Wait!" she called out, but he was gone. She wanted to finish the transaction and conversation properly, instead of this bewildering and disturbing revelation that he had known all along who she was. Padme didn't know if she should be comforted in his skills or scared, but she knew one thing for sure. Next time, she was bringing back-up.