His footsteps echoed loudly off the cold, stone walls as he made his way down the dark corridor. The thick, black cloak he wore draped over his shoulders swirled around his feet as he walked. He strode slowly, methodically, to the end of the corridor, slowly opened the door, and entered the dimly lit room.
As he entered, a tall, silver haired man, bowed slowly before him. "My Lord," he said, reverently.
The dark figure motioned for him to follow him, and the silver haired man took his place beside him as they walked through the door at the opposite end of the room, out along the exterior walkway. Overhead, the setting suns of Corruscant cast a rich, orange glow to the expansive sky above them. In the fading sunlight, the smooth, polished handle of a light saber flashed brightly from under the silver haired man's cape as he walked beside his master.
The dark figure's face was obscured by the heavy hood of his cloak, his nose and chin barely visible under the thick, corded material. He took a step toward the railing of the walkway, then paused, looking out over the city, his hands gripping the railing tightly.
"It would seem," the dark figure finally said, after some time, "that our plan to turn young Skywalker to the Dark Side has failed."
The silver haired man nodded slowly. "Yes, my Lord," he said, slowly, thoughtfully.
"This is unfortunate," the hooded figure continued. "We shall have to adjust our plans accordingly."
He reached under his cloak, producing a small, silver, dart-like instrument, and a small, coded data disc. "Take this with you to Geonosis. You will find the probe unit in your ship."
The silver haired man took the items from his master's hand. "Yes, My Lord," he said, and then placed the items securely in the belt he wore at his waist.
"Skywalker will arrive on Geonosis soon, Lord Tyranus," the hooded figure said, calmly. "I have foreseen it. Once you have obtained the sample, you may deal with him as you wish."
"And what of the senator from Naboo?" Tyranus asked, cautiously.
"The plan remains unchanged," the Dark Lord replied, flatly. "She has become even more troublesome as of late. You may deliver her to them as planned."
"Understood, My Lord," Tyranus replied, an evil smile spreading across his weathered, regal face.
The hooded figure turned back toward the railing overlooking the city. "On your way then," the hooded figure replied, flatly. He turned his attention and his hooded face back toward the railing overlooking the city.
"Do not fail me, Lord Tyranus."
Cleige shielded his eyes as he watched the sleek, silver ship fire it's thrusters and settle softly near the house, tossing swirling clouds of orange-gold sand into the cold night air as the engines slowly died down.
Owen had called ahead and prepared him before their arrival; he already knew that his beloved Shmi was gone. He had prepared himself for this moment weeks ago, right after the raiders had taken her. Still, his heart ached as he realized that they were bringing her home now, and that he would never hear her voice or see her smile again. He touched the control stick on his hover chair, and slowly approached the rear of the ship as the rear access ramp began to open. As the ramp touched down on the cold, coarse sand, Cleige peered into the ship, blinking his eyes as they adjusted to the bright light that shone from inside.
Anakin's boots made a cold, metallic sound as he started down the ramp. He carried Padmé in his arms; she was still sleeping, mercifully, from the pain medication they had given her a bit earlier. She had stirred and moaned softly when he had picked her up, so he carried her gently, trying not to move her any more than he had to.
Cleige winced as he saw the burn on Padmé's shoulder; most of the material at the back of her tunic where she was struck was burned and gone. He could see the angry burn on her back as she hung limply in Anakin's arms.
Cleige's eyes met Anakin's as he stepped off the ramp onto the sand beside him. "How is she, son?" he asked, making no effort to mask his concern.
"She's in a lot of pain," Anakin said quietly, "and it's a pretty bad burn. We need to treat her as quickly as we can."
"This way," Cleige said, motioning for Anakin to follow him. "I've got the medical supplies waiting for you."
"Cleige," Anakin said quietly, not moving. Cleige turned back to look at him again, and saw the sad, compassionate face that Anakin directed toward him. "I'm so sorry," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her."
They both turned and looked back to the top of the ramp. Owen stood there somberly, with Beru at his side, as he carried Shmi's lifeless body in his arms. They all stood in silence for a few moments, with nothing but the sound of the night wind on the air. Cleige looked at his wife's shrouded body for a few moments, and then extended his hand and patted Anakin's forearm. "It's alright, son," he said quietly. "You brought her back to me. I couldn't ask you for more than that."
They looked at each other for a moment, and then Cleige motioned for him to follow him again. "Come on, now," he said. "Let's get her taken care of."
With Padmé in his arms, Anakin followed quickly behind him, as Owen and Beru made their way down the ramp in like fashion, and they all headed toward the house.
"Put her in here," Cleige said, as he pushed open the door to one of the larger bedrooms and pressed a button on the control panel. Slowly, the lights came up in the room, and he released the switch when it was bright enough for them to see well enough. He moved to the side and made way for Anakin to step through the door.
Anakin stepped quickly to the side of the bed and gently laid Padmé down on the bed on her left side, being careful not to touch her wounded shoulder. She moaned again, softly, and she opened her eyes and looked weakly around the room. "Anakin," she said quietly, as she opened her eyes, looking for him.
Anakin sat down gently on the bedside next to her. "It's okay, Padmé," he said softly, holding her hand tightly and gently brushing her hair with his free hand. "I'm here. We're back at the house. You're going to be just fine."
Anakin turned and watched as Beru made her way hastily into the room, followed closely by the medical droid she had brought with them. She made her way to the other side of the bed, so that she could get a better look at Padmé's wounded shoulder. Cleige had placed the medical supplies on a small table nearby before their arrival. As quickly as she could, Beru went to work.
The life of a moisture farmer was usually hard, and it wasn't a rare occasion when medical attention was needed. Since homes and cities were often separated by great distances, most young women were schooled in medicine from an early age; Beru was no exception. Owen had assured Anakin that Padmé would be in very good hands. He watched her, nervously, as she started to work.
"How is she?" he asked, as Beru turned and took the scissors from the supply table, and then gently began to cut away the burned material of her tunic. Beru took a deep, thoughtful breath, as she continued to remove the burned material as gently as she could.
"She's got a really bad burn," she said, as she worked carefully, cutting away the material in small pieces. "Those sand people are cruel in more ways than most people can imagine. Their weapons are designed to inflict as much damage and pain as they can. They're very crude, horrible weapons."
Padmé cried out softly as Beru gently tried to lift a piece of burned material from the edge of her wound. Both she and Anakin froze when she did so, and Anakin held her hand as tightly as he could, until the pain subsided again. Beru looked at him apologetically, and Anakin gave her a reassuring nod, encouraging her to continue.
Beru removed the last of the material she needed to with the scissors, and, with Padmé's wound finally fully exposed, she laid the scissors back on the table. She picked up some cleansing pads and solution, and then gently began to inspect her wound more closely.
"She's very lucky," she said, as she soaked a pad with the sterile solution and dabbed gently at the outer edges of the angry burn. "Just a bit more to the left, and..." She paused, and looked up at Anakin, who returned her gaze with a worried look. He turned his gaze back to Padmé, and gently stroked her hair as he held onto her hand.
Beru watched him for a moment, and then returned to cleaning her wound. "She's got some muscle and tendon damage," she said, as she continued to work at cleaning her wound as gently as she could. She turned to the medical droid. "Bring me the dermal regeneration pack. I need two of them." Obediently, the droid turned and quickly went to fulfill her request.
Padmé winced and moaned again, opening her eyes just enough for Anakin to see the pained look in them. Anakin's expression grew more worried, as he held her hand and continued to stroke her hair comfortingly. "She's in a lot of pain," he said, quietly.
"Thankfully," Beru said, her eyes never leaving her work, "the pain medication we gave her on the ship is helping keep it bearable. With this much nerve damage, though, we can't block it all till we get the dermal generators working. Hopefully, though, she won't remember much of it." Beru looked up at Anakin, seeing the worried expression on his face. She reached over gently and squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, Anakin," she said with a smile. "She's going to be just fine."
The medical droid returned quickly, the two dermal regeneration packs that Beru had requested on a small tray in front of it. Anakin watched as it rolled up next to her, and Beru took one of the packs and opened it quickly. She removed a square of foam-like material from the pack, unfolded it, and placed it on the tray. She opened a container of liquid and poured it onto the material, thoroughly soaking it. She prodded it gently, forcing the liquid evenly throughout the material.
She took the other pack and opened it and started to repeat the process. As she worked, Owen entered the room and came to stand behind Anakin. He gently placed his hand on his shoulder. "How is she?" he asked.
Anakin turned and gave him an obviously worried smile. "Beru says she'll be fine," he said. "She's just in a lot of pain right now." He paused a moment. "How's Cleige?" he asked.
Owen turned and looked out into the central area of the house, where his father sat quietly. "He'll be fine," he said. "He's handling it better than I could ever hope to."
"Anakin," Beru said, and he turned his attention back to her. "I'm going to need to apply two of these packs so we can use the dermal generators. Her wound is too big for just one." She turned and picked up the tray with the liquid-soaked packs and sat it gently on the bed near Padmé. "It's going to sting quite a bit when I apply these, because of all the saline in them," she said. "She's probably going to cry out a bit, but don't worry. It won't last long." She gave him a weakly reassuring smile. "You might want to hold on to her when I apply these."
Anakin nodded, took a deep breath, and then stood up and knelt on the floor beside the bed, where he could put his arm tightly around her shoulders. He took both of her hands in his and leaned as close to her as he could. "Padmé," he said softly. "Can you hear me?"
Padmé moaned softly and opened her eyes weakly. "Yes," she said, her eyes closing again.
"Beru's got to treat your wound, Padmé," he said quietly. "It's probably going to hurt a little when she does. Okay?" Padmé moaned a bit, and pulled Anakin's hand closer to her, then gently nodded that she understood.
Anakin looked back up at Beru. "I hate that we can't do anything more for the pain," he said quietly.
"Once we get these packs applied, the dermal generators will be able to stop it, and they'll sedate her while they're working to rebuild her tissue," she said, and then smiled at Anakin. "And then she'll be comfortable. I promise."
Anakin nodded, and he held as tightly to her as he could. "Okay," he said, and looked up at Beru again. "She's ready."
Beru took the first of the two packs and lifted it gently from the tray. She and Anakin looked at each other again, and she took a deep breath and gently, but swiftly, applied the pack to Padmé's wounded back.
Padmé's body contorted and tensed in pain as the pack touched her burned skin. Anakin held her as tightly as he could, as Beru closed her eyes and pressed the pack gently to Padmé's badly burned back, allowing the material to bond with her wound. She grimaced as Padmé shut her eyes tightly and cried out in pain.
"OOOoowwwwwWWWW!" she cried, as she clung to Anakin as tightly as she could.
"I'm so sorry, Padmé," Beru said apologetically. "I know it hurts, but it's almost over." Quickly, she took the other pack and, as gently but swiftly as she could, applied it to the other half of her wound.
Padmé cried out again, and Anakin could feel her body tremble in agony as Beru applied the second pack. "Ooooohhhh, Ani," she cried weakly, "Ohhhhhh, it hurts." Anakin shut his eyes and held on to her as tightly as he could; he wanted so desperately for the pain to be over. He couldn't bear to see her suffer like this.
Beru quickly reached over and picked up the four small dermal regenerators from the tray, and placed them quickly at the four corners of the two packs. She could feel Padmé's body trembling from the pain that coursed through it as she did so. As quickly as she could, she fastened the units in place, and reached for the activator and then, one by one, she turned each of the units on. A small green light illuminated on each unit, and each one began to hum.
Padmé's anguished cries grew softer, as the nerve inhibitors began to work. Anakin still held on to her as tightly as he could, and he could feel her trembling begin to subside. He opened his eyes and looked up at Beru, who was quickly adjusting the regeneration units.
"Is it working?" he asked, as he watched her work quickly on one unit, and then move to the next.
"Yes," Beru replied, "the nerve inhibitors are starting to work."
She reached over and gently squeezed Padmé's shoulder. "Padmé," she said softly, "the pain should be getting better now. I promise you'll feel much better in a few minutes." Padmé nodded weakly in reply, her breath still catching in her throat between sobs.
Anakin turned his attention back to his young wife, who was still holding onto his right arm tightly. He gently stroked her hair as he stretched out to her with his feelings. "It is getting better," he said, a look of thankful relief on his face. "I can feel the pain subsiding."
Beru turned and picked up a small sterile cloth that was folded on the table beside her. She gently draped it over the four humming generators, covering Padmé's wound. Then she sat up straight, and took a long deep breath, then exhaled slowly. She looked at her hands; they were trembling. She looked at Owen, and he gave her a reassuring smile, and she returned it, though she looked exhausted.
She turned to Anakin again, who was still holding on to Padmé, watching her intently, a worried expression on his face. She reached over and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, Anakin," she nodded. "She'll be fine now, it's over. Once the nerve inhibitors are fully engaged, she won't feel any more pain, and she'll sleep. She'll be good as new by morning, I promise."
Anakin smiled back at her, then slowly stood up and sat back on the bed next to Padmé, never letting go of her hands. He gently brushed her hair, and she moaned softly; her body was more relaxed now, and the anguished look of pain was quickly receding from her face. Her sobs had subsided, and her breathing was more normal, not as shallow as it had been. She seemed to be resting peacefully now, at last.
"Thank you, Beru," Anakin said, and then reached over and squeezed Beru's hand. "Very much."
Beru squeezed Anakin's hand in return and smiled back at him. She stood up and started to gather up the supplies and place them back on the table. As she did so, Cleige appeared at the door. "How is she?" he asked. "I heard her crying out a bit ago. Is everything okay?"
"She's fine, Dad," Beru replied, gathering the last of the supplies. She instructed the medical droid to return the supplies to the storeroom, and as he began to work, she came and stood next to Owen, who placed his arm around her shoulder and smiled at her. "She'll be fine by tomorrow. She just needs to rest."
Anakin took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, as a feeling of welcome relief finally began to overtake him. He stretched out to her with his feelings; she was resting now, sleeping. The regenerators were doing their job well. Gently, he let go of her hands and slowly stood up and took another relieved breath.
He turned to Owen and Beru and gave them both a long hug of gratitude. "Thank you both," he said. "I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done."
Beru gave him a reassuring smile. "You're welcome, Anakin," she said. "You two are family," she said, as she gave his arm a squeeze. "No thanks are necessary."
She walked to Padmé's bedside and gently pulled the blanket up over her to keep her warm. "And all she needs now," she said, "is rest."
Cleige turned and looked at Anakin. He watched the young Jedi as he ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair, a tired and wearied look on his face. "And I think that's what you need as well, son," Cleige said. "It's been a long night. You stay here with her and get some rest." Cleige turned his hover chair and made his way back to the entrance of the room. "If you need anything at all, just yell." He smiled at Beru as he spoke. "Beru's quite the young physician," he said proudly. "She'll check in on you."
Anakin smiled in reply, as the three of them left the room, and Beru quietly closed the door behind her. Somewhat stiffly, he took off his boots and vest, and placed them on a chair in the corner of the room. He stretched his arms over his head for a moment, and then came and sat beside Padmé on the bed again. He took her hand gently, not wanting to disturb her, and he watched her for a moment, stretching out with his feelings again. She was asleep now; thankfully, he didn't sense any more pain. He looked at the cloth that covered her wounded back; he could see the four green lights pulsing slowly, could hear the hum as they worked. He smiled and gently brushed her brown hair from her eyes as she slept peacefully.
"What am I going to do with you?" he sighed quietly, never taking his eyes off of her.
He smiled as he felt her squeeze his hand, almost in reply to his question. He bent down and kissed her gently on the cheek. "I love you," he said, softly. Again, he felt her squeeze his hand, and he smiled again.
He quietly slid the chair in the corner of the room next to the bed, and sat down in it quietly, still holding on to her hand. He took one more long, loving look at her, and then, reaching into the Force, turned off the light.
The early afternoon suns cast a brilliant orange glow across the dark, blue sky, and long shadows from the five somber individuals on the desert sand near the homestead. Tatooine's ever present wind gusted briskly in various directions, tossing Padmé's long hair gently, first this way, then that, as she stood quietly next to Anakin, holding his hand tightly, her free hand gently holding onto his arm.
She felt better today. She had spent most of the morning in bed, at Anakin's insistence, and she had abided by his request, even though it had frustrated her to do so. Her wound was better now, thanks to Beru's skills and the dermal generators, and, except for being extremely stiff and a bit sore, she had insisted this morning that she was fine. Anakin, however, had been adamant that she rest, and she had done so, if for no other reason than to humor him. "It's only because he loves you so much," Beru had said. Padmé knew she was right.
Padmé turned her attention once again to Anakin. He stood quietly next to her, his gaze transfixed on the smooth, new headstone a few yards in front of him. His expression was quiet, yet his eyes shone brightly in the bright sunlight. Padmé gently squeezed his arm, and he clasped her hand tighter in return, his eyes never leaving the stone.
They were all assembled a short distance from the house, near the place where Cleige's parents had been laid to their final rest some years earlier. Near the two weathered grave markers, a freshly hewn stone stood quietly at the head of Shmi's final resting place. The marker was clean and simple, much like the life she had led; nothing flamboyant, or overly ornate. It simply said;
Shmi Skywalker Lars
Beloved Wife, Mother, and Friend
They stood quietly for a long time, and then Cleige finally spoke, his voice gruff, yet soft spoken.
"My darling Shmi," he said, quietly. "I don't know where you are now, but I know that it's become a better place."
They all turned their attention to Cleige and watched him as he continued. "You provided us with a warm, loving home, and you gave us all the gift of your laughter, your smile, and your friendship," he said. "You were the most loving companion, the best friend that a man could ever hope for or want," he said, quietly. "I'll miss you, my darling," he paused. "All of us will."
Cleige took a deep breath. "Goodbye, my darling wife," he said, finally, and then paused. "And thank you."
Anakin squeezed Padmé's hand gently, and then took a few steps forward. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly as she watched and listened to him.
"Mom," he said, softly, "I'm sorry I couldn't get here in time to save you. I can't help feeling that I've let you down, somehow."
"I remember the day I left you, Mom," he continued. "I didn't want to leave, but you told me that I needed to go, that it was what you wanted for me, that I should follow my dreams."
"You wanted me to be a Jedi, Mom, and I guess I am," he said, quietly. "I am what I am because of you. If it weren't for you, Padmé and I wouldn't be together."
Padmé felt her heart beating harder as she listened to him talk to his mother, as if she were sitting in a chair in front of him. Anakin smiled, his face brightening a bit. "I'm glad you got to see her again, Mom," he said. "If only for a few minutes."
Anakin paused, then took another step forward, slowly dropping to his knees in front of his mother's smooth new headstone. He raised his hand and gently ran it over the top of the stone for a moment, then let his arms drop to his side, dragging his fingers loosely through the coarse sand, letting it fall through his fingers.
He was hurting; of that, Padmé was completely sure. She took a few steps closer and slowly knelt beside him, placing her arm comfortingly around his shoulders. Anakin took a deep breath and took her hand into his own and squeezed it tightly; he was trembling.
"I miss you, Mom," Anakin said, his voice trembling. "I miss you so much. I hope you're proud of me, that I've done what you wanted me to do."
Anakin's expression changed for a moment, from one of loss and despair to one of determination. He took another handful of sand in his free hand, squeezing it tightly, letting it drift slowly through his fingers.
"I promise you, Mom," Anakin said, so softly that Padmé could barely hear him as he spoke. "I'll never let you, or Padmé, or anyone else in this family down, ever."
Anakin squeezed Padmé's hand gently as he spoke, and then they slowly stood up, and, taking a few steps back, took their place next to Cleige, Owen, and Beru.
"Goodbye, Mom," Anakin said, softly. "I love you," he said, and then looked with a smile at the others.
"We all do."
They stood there quietly, as the setting sun slipped slowly below the horizon, the gentle breeze tossing wisps of sand gently around them all.
Obi-Wan stood a short distance from his ship, his long range binoculars surveying the Trade Federation ships that dotted the vast valley beneath him. He had tracked Jango Fett to this place, and, from what he could tell, there seemed to be a large Federation presence here. He adjusted the range on his binoculars and focused them on a large, stone structure near the edge of the valley, a short distance from some of the larger ships. There seemed to be a lot of activity here, and this seemed to be the focal point of it. Indeed, Jango's ship had landed not far from here; he intended to find that bounty hunter. He still had quite a few questions for him.
Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his ship, watching as Arfour went about the business of repairing the hull damage he had received in the asteroid field
Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his ship, watching as Arfour went about the business of repairing the hull damage he had received in the asteroid field. He had escaped Jango's attack, but only narrowly. Jango's ship had turned out to be much more powerful and maneuverable than he had anticipated. In addition, Jango was an amazing skilled pilot, and, had it not been for the size of the asteroid field and a bit of deception on his part, the man he had been trying to catch would surely have destroyed him.
He rolled the events that lay before him over and over in his mind, trying to make some sense of it. Why had Fett come here, to this world so far from Camino, instead of returning to Corruscant? And what was the Trade Federation doing here? Was Fett somehow in league with the Federation? If so, why would the Federation be interested in employing bounty hunters? And how did the assassination attempts on Senator Amidala figure into all of this? Obi-Wan sighed heavily; he had a lot of pieces to this puzzle, but as of yet, none of them were fitting together.
Senator Amidala. Obi-Wan sighed again, leaning back against the hull of his scorched ship, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His pursuit of Jango Fett had kept his mind occupied for the past few hours. But now, he found himself thinking of Anakin again.
How could he have been so careless? No; how could the Council have been so careless? He knew that Anakin had strong feelings for Padmé. Placing him in the position of protecting her had obviously been a mistake. If Anakin did indeed plan to marry Padmé – or, worse yet, had already married her - his future as a Jedi would be over, and he would be dismissed from the Order.
No; he didn't have time to worry about that right now. He had to find out what was going on here on Geonosis. He turned his eyes back to the large stone structure in the valley again. He would find those answers, and he would relay them back to the Council.
Leaving Arfour to his work, Obi-Wan started down the hill, quietly making his way toward the stone fortress below.
"Artoo Deetoo, please don't fidget with that!"
Artoo swung his optical sensors around so that he could see Threepio as he addressed him. Momentarily, he removed his data probe from the terminal of the old, worn vaporator console he had been fidgeting with, and responded with a long series of beeps and clicks.
"Yes, yes," Threepio responded, a tone of slight aggravation in his high pitched voice. "I know you're a very capable repairman, but master Cleige has asked me to repair that unit. I've been working on it for quite some time now."
Artoo swung his sensors back so that he could survey the unit closer; from his vantage point, it appeared that this unit hadn't functioned in some time. It was an older model, and it still used the old tractor treads for mobility, instead of the new gravity repulsor units on the newer models. The treads of the old unit had begun to rust at the joints, an obvious sign of non-use. There wasn't much moisture on this planet, so it took a very long time for things to rust here.
Threepio made his way through the workshop, and opened to door to the food storage bins near the back. He quickly gathered up the vegetables that Beru had requested and placed them in the container that he had brought with him. "Besides," he continued as he worked, "that console isn't working anyway. I know, I've tried it many times."
Artoo reinserted his data probe for a moment and turned the dial over several times, forward and back, as he quickly scanned the internal circuits. He turned his sensors back to Threepio, and another series of whistles and clicks ensued.
Threepio closed the door to the storage bins, and then turned quickly to face the little astrodroid. "What do you mean, I don't know what I'm talking about?" he asked in an aggravated tone. "I'm quite certain that this unit is really beyond repair. Why, it would take..."
Artoo spun the dial several more times, and the console's display suddenly flashed brightly and sprang to life. Artoo turned his censors to Threepio once again, as he stood there in utter disbelief. Another long series of whistles and clicks followed.
"What do you mean, I'd make a better butler than a repairman?" Threepio asked disgustedly, waving his arms excitedly. "Oh, switch off!" he said finally, and turned around and headed quickly back for the house.
Artoo chucked to himself, as astrodroids are sometimes want to do, and went back to work on the console in front of him.
The familiar metallic ring of Threepio's feet rang through the kitchen as he brought the container of vegetables that Beru had requested. She stood at the sink, peeling fruit, while Padmé stood at the stove near the kitchen, tending the pot of soup they had put on a bit earlier.
"Mistress Padmé," Threepio said, as he placed the container on the counter near Beru. "I don't know where you got that astrodroid of yours, but he has terrible manners."
Padmé turned a smiling face to Threepio as she slowly stirred the pot on the stove. Her long, brown hair hung in loose curls about her shoulders, and she reached up and tucked a lock of it behind her ear as she spoke. "I'm sorry, Threepio," she replied. "What did he do to you?"
Threepio waved his arms slowly as he turned to face her. "Oh, it's nothing, really," he said, almost regretting that he'd said anything. "He just insists on meddling with things."
"I know, Threepio," she said apologetically, a warm smile on her face. "He just likes to fix things. I'm sorry if he's getting in your way. I'll have Anakin speak to him."
"Yes, well..." Threepio said, turning to walk out of the kitchen. "If only he wouldn't be such a show off," he said, almost under his breath, as he slowly made his way back out into the central part of the house.
Padmé and Beru looked at each other as he left, and, soon as he was out of earshot, they both began to laugh. "Sounds like somebody hurt someone's feelings," Beru laughed, placing the piece of fruit she'd just finished peeling on the tray.
"I think so," Padmé laughed, as she placed the spoon in her hand on the stove and walked to the counter to retrieve the container Threepio had just brought. The bright blue dress that she wore contrasted brightly against the tan kitchen walls and white countertops. She picked up the container and made her way to the empty sink beside Beru, and she placed it in the sink so that she could rinse the dust from the brightly colored vegetables. "Sometimes, they act just like children," she sighed.
Padmé turned to reach for the towel that hung on the wall beside her. As she extended her right arm, she winced and pulled it in close to her, then stood quietly for a moment and rubbed her right shoulder slowly.
Beru picked up another piece of fruit and began to peel it slowly, as she looked at Padmé with a concerned expression. "Still sore?" she asked, as she watched Padmé reach for the towel again, this time much more slowly, and place it on the counter near the sink.
"Just a little," she said, returning a warm smile to Beru. "I know it's going to take a while for it to feel normal again." She turned on the water and began to rinse the vegetables and place them on the towel beside her.
"You know, Beru," Padmé said as she worked, "I never really got a chance to thank you for everything you did for me last night." She looked at her warmly as she slowly turned the vegetable in her hands over under the cool water. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you," she said softly.
"Well, I hope you don't remember too much about it," Beru said, taking the last bit of peel off of the plump, ripe fruit in her hand. "And I'm very sorry if you do," she said as she looked up at Padmé with a smile. She placed the paring knife she used under the running water, turning her attention back to her work. "I'm just glad you're better," she said, placing the piece of fruit on the tray beside her. "We were all pretty scared there for a while last night."
Beru wore her hair in her usual fashion, two pigtails pulled up into two small buns on either side of her head. Her reddish brown hair contrasted brightly with the pale white tunic and skirt that she wore as she worked. Padmé smiled, and then shook the water off the large potato she'd just finished rinsing and placed it on the towel beside her.
Beru turned and looked out the window toward the workshop behind the house. She saw Anakin step outside; in one hand, he held a logic probe, and he stood in the waning sunlight and applied it to the item that he held in his dirty hands. His hair was disheveled, and his face was covered with several dirty brown streaks. His light brown shirt was covered in dust, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he worked.
"Padmé," Beru said, drying her hands as she watched him out the window, "how's Anakin?"
Padmé followed Beru's gaze out the window, and she finally saw her dirty, young husband standing in the evening sun, the wind tossing swirls of sand up near his boots as he worked. "He's a little sad today, Beru," she said softly, "but that's to be expected. I think he'll be fine."
"He's been out in that workshop all afternoon," Beru said, watching him. "I can't imagine that there's anything left out there to fix," she smiled.
Padmé smiled as she saw him place the probe back into his pocket, then turn and walk back into the workshop. "I'm just glad he's got something to do to keep him busy today," she said with a smile. She turned her attention back to the counter. "He loves to fix things," she said, as she picked up the towel and carried the freshly washed vegetables to the counter near the stove. "He always has, ever since he was a boy." Beru turned to watch as Padmé picked up a sharp knife and began to slowly slice them and place them into the pot on the stove as she talked.
"I asked Cleige this morning if he could help find something for him to work on this afternoon," she said with a grin, dropping another handful of sliced vegetables into the simmering pot. She turned and smiled at Beru as she worked. "I knew it would be good for him, you know, give him a chance to take his mind off of what happened last night."
She paused, as she picked up another potato and began to slice it. "And keep him from worrying about me," she grinned.
"Padmé," Beru said, watching her work, "Anakin never really told us what happened out there last night." She leaned back against the counter as Padmé continued to work. "I'd really like to know, if you don't mind telling me, that is."
Padmé smiled back at her, placing the last of the freshly sliced vegetables in the soup pot. She laid the knife down on the counter, took the towel that Beru offered her, and began to slowly dry her hands as she turned to face her.
"How much do you know about the Jedi, Beru?" Padmé asked inquisitively, as Beru turned an attentive face to her.
"Only a little bit," Beru replied. "I know that they're supposed to be very powerful. Guardians or something like that. But I don't know a whole lot about them, or why they can do the things they can do."
"Anakin's very gifted, Beru," Padmé said, looking at her hands as she dried them. "I don't really understand why, I just know that he is. His mother knew that, somehow. That's why when Master Qui-Gon freed him all those years ago, she insisted that he go with him and become a Jedi."
She paused, and then looked back up at Beru. "Jedi are forbidden to marry," she said, quietly. Padmé smiled as she saw the look of surprise on Beru's face as she heard this bit of news.
"But," Beru asked, bewildered, "then, how did the two of you...?"
Padmé smiled back at her. "Anakin left the Order so that he and I could be married," she said. "We both decided that we'd rather be together, no matter what that meant."
Her expression grew more serious. "But, he's still a Jedi," she said. "He can still feel the Force. In fact, his abilities have been getting stronger the past few days. Much stronger."
"The Force?" Beru asked, a puzzled look on her face. Padmé grinned broadly back at her as she spoke.
"Anakin's told me a few things," Padmé continued, handing the towel back to Beru, who placed it on the counter beside her. "I don't pretend to know much, but I know that the Force is what gives a Jedi his powers, and that there's a good side and a bad side."
"He's been having nightmares for weeks," she continued, "almost every night." She paused for a moment, and then continued. "He even had one on our wedding night," she said, a sad tone in her voice.
"That's awful," Beru replied sympathetically.
"The awful thing was," Padmé continued, "is that they'd been getting steadily worse. It seemed like the more Anakin's powers continued to grow, the worse the dreams would become." She reached her hand toward the stove and picked up the spoon that rested there as she continued. "We finally realized that it wasn't just a dream, and that if he was ever going to have any peace, we were going to have to find out what was happening. And that's what led us here, to you. It was the Force that was telling Anakin that Shmi was in trouble. He could feel it."
"Anyway, when we left the other night, we found the camp pretty quickly," she continued thoughtfully. "Once we got down there, it only took Anakin a few moments to find Shmi." She paused for a moment, then took the spoon in her hand and slowly stirred the pot that simmered on the stove. "At least we got there before she was gone," she said, quietly, then tapped the spoon gently on the edge of the pot and laid it back on the stove.
Padmé looked thoughtfully at the pot as it simmered slowly on the stove. "And that's what bothers me," she finally said, quietly, turning her face back to Beru.
"Howso?" Beru asked, a look of deep concern on her face.
Padmé crossed her arms over her chest and looked at her seriously. "Something tried to take control of him out there last night, Beru," she said. "When Shmi died, he got so angry. It was almost as if something else was trying to control him, to make him do something that he knew in his heart was wrong."
She paused for a moment, and then continued. "I know Anakin," she said, "And I know how loving, caring and compassionate he is. He could never bring himself to hurt someone purely for the sake of revenge."
Padmé's expression grew more concerned as she spoke. "I've never seen so much rage and hatred in someone's eyes before. It was so unlike Anakin. I know it couldn't have been him. Something else was trying to force him to do something terrible."
Beru stepped to the stove and adjusted the heat under the simmering soup pot. "Here," she said, "let me help with this." Padmé moved a bit to give her room to work, and she stood watching, her arms still folded across her chest, as she watched Beru pick up the spoon and stir the pot slowly.
Padmé spoke again as she watched Beru at the stove. "It's almost as if everything that's happened in the past few weeks – the assassination attempts, Shmi..." She paused and took a deep breath. "Even what happened to me last night; it's almost as it someone or something is trying to force him to do something terrible." She smiled a bit, and looked up at Beru's attentive face. "I know that probably sounds crazy."
"Padmé," Beru asked thoughtfully, "what would have happened had Anakin..." She paused for a moment, and looked back at Padmé's thoughtful face.
Padmé closed her eyes, and shook her head slowly. "I don't even want to think about it," she said, trying to put the image out of her mind. "Anakin's powers are getting so strong lately," she said. "If he had used them to punish those Tuskens, it would have been horrible." She paused again, thoughtfully. "I've heard Master Yoda speak of the bad side of the Force," she said. "They call it the Dark Side."
Beru was listening intently as she tended the simmering pot on the stove. "The Dark Side?" she asked, puzzled.
"I don't know much about it, only that it's evil and very dangerous for a Jedi," Padmé said, concerned. "If he had given in to whatever was trying to control him last night..." she paused, her countenance growing more concerned, "I could have lost him."
Beru reached over and gave Padmé's arm a reassuring squeeze. "But you didn't," she smiled back at her. "He loves you so much, Padmé. I watched him last night. He never left your side, not for a moment." She looked back at the stove and gently stirred the pot of soup as she talked. "I came in to check on you twice, and both times he was awake, just holding your hand and watching you." She looked back up at her with a warm smile. "It was so sweet."
Padmé smiled back at her. "I know," she said. "I love him so much. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost him. I'm just so thankful that I was there with him last night. If I hadn't been there, then..." Padmé's brow furrowed and she turned her head and stared at the wall, pensively.
"What is it, Padmé?" Beru asked, seeing the deep, thoughtful look on her face.
Padmé shook her head, and then looked back toward Beru. "It's probably nothing," she said with a slight smile. "I was just thinking. I can't shake the feeling that all of this seems, I don't know, orchestrated somehow, to hurt Anakin, to manipulate him."
"Have you talked to him about how you feel?" Beru asked, turning an inquisitive face to her again.
"No," Padmé said. "Not yet."
"I think you should," Beru said with a soft smile. "It might help."
Beru turned her attention back to the hot pot of soup simmering on the stove. "Well, it looks like dinner is almost ready," she said, then turned a smiling face to Padmé. "Why don't you go and tell Anakin that it'll be time to eat soon? I can finish up here."
"Are you sure?" Padmé asked. She didn't want to leave Beru shorthanded with guests to take care of.
"Sure, I'm fine," Beru said with a smile. "Besides, as dirty as he is, it's going to take you a while to get him cleaned up."
"Yes, that's probably true," Padmé replied with a laugh. She reached over and gave Beru's shoulder a gentle squeeze. Beru smiled back at her, and Padmé turned and walked out of the kitchen, and toward the main entrance of the house.
"Ani?" Padmé called, pushing open the door to the workshop. She leaned around the edge of the door and looked inside.
"Over here," she heard him call, and looked toward the corner of the workshop. She saw him standing next to an old, dusty land speeder. He was leaning under the access panel at the rear of the speeder, and she could see the sparks and hear the crackle of the tool in his hand as he worked.
She looked around the shop as she made her way slowly to the corner where he was. The shop was littered with droids, vehicles, and machines of all kinds. She smiled to herself; he could keep himself busy here for weeks, she thought. She'd have to talk to her father about building a workshop for him there when they got home.
Padmé walked up behind him and gently rubbed his back with her left hand as he worked. "How's it coming?" she asked.
Anakin stood up and turned his smiling face to her, placing the tool in his hand on the speeder's engine guard. "Not bad," he grinned. "I think I'll have this old speeder running in no time."
Padmé smiled warmly at him, and then placed her hand on his dirty cheek, pulling him toward her, and kissed him long and gently on the lips. "You're dirty," she finally grinned at him as their lips parted, dabbing at the dirty smudge on his left cheek.
Anakin looked sheepishly around the workshop. "Well," he said coyly, "I'm getting a lot of work done," he beamed back at her. "I like fixing things," he grinned, "and there's a lot here to be fixed." Then, his smile faded just a bit, his countenance becoming more concerned as he continued. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm just fine," she smiled back at him. "Don't worry. My shoulder's a bit sore, but that's to be expected for a while." She looked fondly at him, and gently stroked his cheek with her hand. "How about you, are you okay?"
Anakin took a long deep breath and turned to look back at the speeder he had been working on. "I'm okay," he said, quietly. He turned his gaze back to Padmé's concerned face. "It hurts when I think about her, but I've been staying busy, and I've tried to keep my mind on you, and that's helped a lot."
"I know," she smiled warmly back at him, gazing lovingly into his bright, blue eyes. "I'm glad it does." They stood there quietly for a moment, and then she smiled and gently tugged on his arm. "Now come on," she said. "It's time for you to come in and get cleaned up for dinner. It's almost time to eat."
"Already?" Anakin asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yes," Padmé replied with a laugh. "You've been out here all afternoon." She looked at his dirty clothes and laughed. "And you're filthy. I know you're having fun, but it's going to take you a while to get cleaned up, so you'd better come on."
"Ohhh, okay," he replied reluctantly, and then reached behind him and picked up the towel from the workbench and wiped his hands as well as he could. Padmé smiled as she walked alongside him, holding on to his arm, and together they made their way back toward the house, as the setting suns cast a golden glow to the sandy landscape.
It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the dark, dimly lit corridors that he now found himself walking through. Indeed, it had taken even longer for him to find the entrance that he had used to enter the massive stone complex; Obi-Wan had seen the main entrance from his vantage point near his ship, but he knew that way would be closely guarded, so he had searched for some time for another point of entry, one that would allow him to slip into the complex unseen and unheard. Fortunately, he had seen a winged creature of some type drop to a precipice near the rear of the massive structure in the pale light of the moons, and enter through a small, dark opening. That had possibilities, he had thought to himself, and, even though it had taken him some time and considerable effort to reach the narrow opening, he was pleased with the darkness and shadow that it offered as he slowly made his way through the maze of tunnels, in search of...
What was he looking for? Obi-Wan rolled the thought over in his mind, as he moved, quietly and cautiously, through the shadows, from one connecting tunnel to the next. He still rolled the pieces of this ever-expanding puzzle through his mind, hoping that, by some chance or trick of logic, they might fall together in some fashion as to help him solve this mystery. Fett was here, someplace; that was the only thing he was sure of, other than the fact that there appeared to be dozens of large Trade Federation transports here for some reason. He allowed his mind to travel back to the blockade that the Federation had attempted on Naboo nearly ten years ago; whatever the reason for their presence here, he thought, it was most likely some dark purpose, something evil.
Keep your mind in the here and now, Obi-Wan – he could almost hear his master's voice ring in his ears as he brought his attention back from the past to where he now found himself. He paused for a moment as he approached a dim light up ahead; the tunnels seemed to wind around the massive structure, meeting at various points along its circumference. Each juncture was dimly lit, and the adjoining tunnels allowed one to travel either up, down, or around the same level on a circuitous path. Any activity, Obi-Wan surmised, would most likely be found at a central point near the base of the structure, therefore, he had purposefully, slowly, made his way downward. He surmised that he was probably somewhere around midway down, he thought. If only the Force allowed one to judge distance, he thought to himself. He didn't like finding himself in a position that prevented him from knowing exactly where he was.
As he approached the dimly lighted juncture, Obi-Wan began to hear something; mechanical, methodical, it sounded like machinery of some sort, and it grew louder as he approached the light where the tunnels joined up ahead. He reached under his cloak, placing his hand on his light saber, just to assure himself that it was there. He paused and smiled to himself; he had always found it amusing that Anakin did the same thing each time they found themselves in a tense situation. Now here he was, he thought, doing the same thing. He wished, more than just mildly, that Anakin were here with him now.
Obi-Wan reached the juncture's entrance and peered cautiously around the corner of the tunnel where he now stood into the open area. To his left, another tunnel ran horizontally along the complex wall, making the usual circuitous path that he had encountered at the other levels. To his right, he saw the tunnels that made their ways both up and down to the next level. But, directly ahead, he saw a large opening that seemed to look out into the center of the complex. It appeared to be clear both above and below, and the methodical, mechanical sounds that he had heard were much louder and clearer now. Seeing that the way appeared clear, he quietly stepped into the dimly lit juncture, and peered over the edge of the opening.
What he saw astounded him; he was amazed at the sheer size of the operation, the breadth of it. Below, massive conveyers moved in all directions, weaving in and out of dozens of large machines, both above and below. The conveyors moved vast amounts of metal and parts to various machines; some of it was loaded into huge smelting pots, and the metals wound their way through various large furnaces. He could feel the heat from them even up here where he stood at a considerable height. He saw molten metal being poured into molds, cooled and extruded into various parts; they were droids of some kind, literally thousands of them. What could they possibly be building so many droids for, Obi-Wan thought to himself, as he continued to watch the massive operation with a sense of growing awe and foreboding.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan heard voices. Quickly, and as silently as he could, he darted from the opening where he now stood back into the tunnel from which he had come and concealed himself behind a large stone pillar. He quickly reached into the Force, and, taking a deep breath, calmed himself and stood there silently, utterly still, as he watched the opening with rapt attention.
He saw a group of men approach and enter the dimly lit juncture, where they stopped, and began speaking to each other. One of the men was a tall, elderly gentleman, silver haired, with a regal appearance and a deep, resonant voice. The long black cloak that he wore swirled around his feet as he stopped. Obi-Wan leaned forward so that he could see a bit better. He immediately recognized two of the men who stood near the tall, black clad gentleman; Nute Gunray, the Viceroy for the Trade Federation, and Passell Argente, his aid. Obi-Wan trained his ears on the six men as they stood together in a loose circle in the dim light.
"Now," Obi-Wan heard the tall gentleman say, "We must persuade the Commerce Guild and the Corporate Alliance to sign the treaty."
"What about the Senator from Naboo?" Gunray replied coldly. "Is she dead yet? I'm not signing your treaty until I have her head on my desk."
"I am a man of my word, Viceroy," the deep voice replied.
One of the shorter figures to the Viceroy's left suddenly spoke up. "With these new Battle droids we've built for you, Viceroy, you'll have the finest army in the galaxy."
"I hope so," Gunray replied flatly. The tall, silver haired gentleman extended his hand and gestured to the tunnel ahead of them, and they all made their way out of the dim light and down toward the lower levels.
Obi-Wan turned back and leaned against the cold, stone wall for a moment. Battle droids, he thought to himself? Surely not. What would Gunray and the Trade Federation be planning to do with an army of battle droids?
His thoughts shifted immediately to Senator Amidala. Gunray's comment couldn't be misinterpreted; somehow, he was obviously involved in the attempts on Senator Amidala's life. He needed to get this information back to the Council, but he needed more. He had to find out more of what was going on here.
As quietly as he could, Obi-Wan made his way quickly from behind the stone pillar where he stood, and into the tunnel that led to the levels below, toward the men and information that might hold additional answers to this puzzle.
The tunnel slowly descended to the main level, where it opened out into a vast courtyard. Obi-Wan paused in the shadows as he watched the group of men pass through an archway, and into a small courtyard. In the center of the courtyard was a large stone table, and he watched silently as they all took their place around it. The tall, silver haired gentleman took his seat at the head of the table, and the others waited until he was seated before taking seats of their own. Whoever he was, Obi-Wan thought, he was someone of some importance, at least as far as they were concerned.
Obi-Wan turned his attention to the archway through which they had passed and caught site of a narrow flight of stairs that wound up a narrow path to the right of it. Perhaps, he thought, those stairs might lead to a point where he could eavesdrop on the mysterious group and gather more information. As quietly as a ghost, he slipped slowly through the shadows, and up the narrow staircase. At the top of the stairs, a narrow, gothic archway looked out into the courtyard below. Steeling himself in the shadows, Obi-Wan looked down upon the gathering below.
He smiled slyly as, directly behind the silver haired gentleman, he saw a familiar presence; Jango Fett stood quietly behind him, his arms folded across his chest, the same silver armor shining in the dim light as he had seen on Kamino earlier. His suspicions were correct; Fett was involved, only how and to what extent, he didn't know. Yet.
Several other people were already seated at the conference table, bringing the total to around 12, Obi-Wan observed. He listened intently as the mysterious, silver haired gentleman spoke.
"Now is the time, my friends," he said coldly. "This is the moment when you will have to decide between the Republic or the Confederacy of Independent Systems."
He placed a small display device on the table, placing it directly in front of him, as he continued. "As I explained to you earlier, he said, "I'm quite convinced that ten thousand more systems will rally to our cause with your support, gentlemen."
He lifted his hand as he spoke. "And let me remind you of our absolute commitment to capitalism... of the lower taxes, the reduced tariffs, and the eventual abolition of all trade barriers," he continued, a confident smile on his face. "Signing this treaty will bring you profits beyond your wildest imagination. What we are proposing is completely free trade."
He turned his confident expression toward the Nute Gunray, and extended his hand in a polite fashion. "Our friends in the Trade Federation have pledged their support," he said, as Gunray nodded in the affirmative. "When their Battle Droids are combined with yours, we shall have an army greater than anything in the galaxy. The Jedi will be overwhelmed." He smiled as he looked around the table. "The Republic will agree to any demands we make."
The dark-skinned gentleman, sitting directly to the right of the silver haired man, finally spoke. "Count Dooku," he said.
Dooku? Obi-Wan was so shocked by that name that he nearly spoke it out loud when he heard it. He had never met the aging, former Jedi Master, but his master Qui-Gon Jinn had spoken of him many times. What was a Jedi, former or not, doing here, brokering a deal with the Trade Federation?
The dark-skinned gentleman continued. "I am authorized by the Corporate Alliance to sign the treaty."
Dooku smiled and nodded politely at him in reply. "We are most grateful for your cooperation, Chairman," he said.
A short, diminutive individual, seated next to Gunray, spoke next. "The Commerce Guilds do not, at this time, wish to become openly involved, Count," he said, "but we shall support you in secret – and look forward to doing business with you in the future."
The rest of those seated around the table began to chuckle at his reply. Again, Dooku nodded. "That is all we ask," he said politely.
Obi-Wan listened and watched intently as the tall man near the end of the table spoke next. "The Intergalactic Banking Clan will support you whole-heartedly," he said, "but only in a non-exclusive arrangement."
To his right, the gentleman next to him fidgeted with a voice box implanted into the chest of his suit. After a moment of clicks and static, a metallic voice emerged. "The Techno Unions are at your disposal, Count," he said. Again, Dooku nodded politely.
Obi-Wan leaned back against the wall where he stood, his mind reeling from all he had just taken in. Dooku was obviously involved in this, and it went far beyond the Trade Federation simply attempting to blockade another planet. Some type of attack was being planned; it was the only logical answer to a droid army the size of the one he had seen. He had to get this information back to the Council. They had to be informed as quickly as possible.
As quietly as he could, Obi-Wan concealed himself in the shadows and made his way back down the staircase and back into the maze of tunnels. As quickly as the Force and his strength would allow him, he started to make his way back to his ship.
Anakin carefully lifted the ladle from the pot that simmered on the counter and topped off the second glass. The warm, dark red wine beverage fogged the rim of the glass, and he stopped pouring as soon as it was level with the other and placed the ladle back into the pot.
"Do you need any help, Anakin?" Beru called, watching him pick up the glasses, then turn and head back out the kitchen door.
"No, I've got it," he called over his shoulder to her with a grin. "Thanks, Beru."
"We'll be out in just a bit," she smiled back at him, as she stood there next to Owen. Owen tapped her shoulder with the damp dish that he offered to her, and she turned and took it from his hand and began to dry it.
Anakin carried the two glasses carefully, one in each hand, as he walked slowly from the kitchen to the door leading out to the patio behind the house. He paused for a moment when he reached it, focusing his attention on the handle.
He could easily have opened it, simply by reaching into the Force, he knew that; indeed, Obi-Wan had chastised him on many occasions about using his abilities to move and control objects for his own purposes. He'd never really given much thought to it, himself; why shouldn't he use his abilities? After all, what was the point in being able to do the things he could do if you weren't allowed to take advantage of them?
But for some reason, tonight, he regarded that option only momentarily, and then walked to the door and tapped the dusty pane with the stem of one of the glasses. Through the sand scratched glass, he could see Padmé turn and look over her shoulder from the bench where she sat. She smiled at him, and then stood up and walked to the door.
"Why didn't you just open it yourself?" she asked curiously, turning the handle and pulling the door open so that he could step through. She knew as well as he did that he could have done so easily.
"I don't know," Anakin replied, turning to watch her close the door behind him. He watched her for a moment as she turned and walked back to his side, taking one of the glasses from him. She looked up at him with a smile, then placed her arm in his and walked slowly back to the small, padded bench with him. He offered his hand to her as she sat down, and, when she was comfortable, took his place beside her.
"I think I just wanted to let you help me," he finally said with a grin, leaning back against the bench and taking a sip from the glass in his hand. Padmé returned his smile, and she took a sip from her own glass, and then slipped her arm back around his, snuggling closer to him.
She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. "That's fine," she said, quietly. "I don't mind a bit."
Anakin took another sip from his glass, and he closed his eyes and inhaled as he did; it was warm and aromatic, and he could smell the spices that Beru had added to it when she had placed it on the stove to warm earlier this evening. Something about it reminded him of home; not his old home, when he was a boy, but rather his new one, the one he now shared with Padmé and her family on Naboo. He pulled the fragrant scent deep into his lungs, and held it there for just a moment, and then exhaled slowly.
He opened his eyes, then leaned forward and placed his glass on the small table in front of them, turning his attention back to Padmé. He looked at her as she sat close to his side, and he instinctively lifted his left arm and placed it snuggly around her shoulders. As he did so, she smiled happily and snuggled up closely beside him.
"How's your shoulder tonight?" he asked, as he gently stroked her shoulder with his hand.
Padmé took another sip from her glass. "It's fine," she said, smiling back at him. "It's still a little sore, but it's okay."
Anakin looked at her fondly as she looked back out over the sandy terrain and up at the stars twinkling in the clear night sky. She sighed contentedly, and laid her head on his shoulder, as she took another sip from the long-stemmed glass that she held cupped in both hands. She still wore the blue dress that she'd worn all day, and her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders in long, flowing curls. Anakin smiled as he looked at her; he took in every detail, every line of her lovely face as she snuggled close beside him in the bright moonlight.
Padmé turned her head and looked back up at Anakin and smiled as she noticed him watching her. "What is it?" she asked, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
Anakin shook his head slowly as he spoke. "You are so beautiful," he said, quietly. "I was just noticing how truly beautiful you are."
Padmé smiled at him radiantly. "Thank you, Ani," she said softly. "Very much." Their eyes held each other for a long moment, and then Padmé leaned her head back as he leaned toward her, and they shared a long, gentle kiss.
Their lips parted, and Padmé opened her eyes slowly, gazing into his bright blue eyes. She sighed deeply, and laid her head back down on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment. "This is much better," she said, contentedly.
"Much better than what?" Anakin asked, a puzzled grin on his face.
"You told me last night that you were going to work on where we went for our moonlit outings," she said softly, her eyes still closed. "You've done well," she said, and looked up at him with a broad smile.
Anakin laughed out loud. "I didn't think you'd remember that," he said, his eyes twinkling happily. He leaned forward a bit and retrieved his glass from the table.
"Oh, yes," Padmé laughed in reply. "Absolutely. And I intended to hold you to it, too." She watched with a mischievous grin as he took a sip from his glass.
"Well, I'm glad that you like this better," he laughed, resting his glass on his knee and turning back to her.
"Yes," Padmé nodded, and then turned her eyes back to the stars and took another sip. "You've done very well."
They both laughed for another moment, and then sat quietly and contently on the bench, both of them looking out toward the beautiful Tatooine sky. Only one moon was visible tonight, the smaller of the two, and the stars twinkled brilliantly in the clear night sky.
Padmé looked thoughtfully at the expanse of stars above her. "Where's Naboo?" she asked, gently laying her head back on his shoulder.
Anakin looked up and studied the sky for a moment, and then put his glass back on the table in front of him. "There," he pointed, gesturing toward a spot high in the eastern night sky.
Padmé followed his arm with her gaze and searched the area of the sky he was pointing at. "There," he said again, "see those three stars very close together, kind of off by themselves?"
"Yes," she nodded in reply.
"Naboo is there, around the star near the bottom," Anakin said, and lowered his arm, retrieving his glass.
Padmé laid her head back on his shoulder again, and looked at the tiny, twinkling point of light in the night sky. "It seems so far away," she said, quietly.
Anakin rubbed her shoulder again. "Are you ready to go home?" he asked, watching her look across the stars towards home.
"Yes, I think I am," she sighed, as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I mean, I think Owen, Beru, and Cleige are wonderful, and I'm enjoying our time together," she continued, looking back up at his smiling face.
"I know," Anakin nodded, and then turned to look out across the sandy landscape. "They're really nice people."
"They're your family," Padmé smiled quietly in reply.
Anakin smiled as she said so; she was right, of course. His mother's marriage to Cliege had indeed brought him something that, until his marriage to Padmé, he had grown accustomed to not having – a family. He gazed out across the dusty landscape for another moment, and then turned and looked back at her. "Our family," he said, softly.
She smiled back at him, and then laid her head back on his shoulder. They sat there quietly for a while, and then Padmé's express grew a bit more thoughtful.
"I was so scared last night," she finally said quietly, and she gently placed her left hand on his tunic near his chest.
Anakin turned so that he could see her face, and placed his glass back on the table, gently taking her hand in his own. "I know," he said quietly. "I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to you," he said, gently squeezing her hand.
Padmé closed her eyes for a moment. "You saved my life last night, Anakin," she said softly, and then turned and gazed deeply into his eyes. "But that's not what I meant."
He regarded her with a puzzled look. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.
She paused for a moment, her eyes never leaving his. "I was afraid I'd lost you in that tent," she said, softly, after a long pause.
Anakin looked down, took a deep breath, and paused for a moment. "I thought you had too," he said finally, opening his eyes and turning his face back to her. She looked at him; his face was thoughtful, worried.
"Tell me," she said, quietly, her eyes searching his.
Anakin leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, casting his gaze downward as he spoke. "When mom died, it was almost like I was being pulled into a pit filled with pain," he said quietly. "I kept asking myself, 'Why did she have to die? Why couldn't I save her?"
Padmé listened intently as he continued, and she leaned toward him and took his hand in hers as he spoke, holding it tightly. "And then the pain turned into hate," he continued, his eyes still focused on the ground at his feet. "All I could feel was hate, so much of it," he said quietly. "All I wanted to do was kill them. I didn't know why I hated them so much, and I didn't care. I just wanted them all to die, to pay for what they did."
He looked back at her, his eyes uncertain. "It was telling me to kill them, and I would have," he said, his eyes searching hers. "I would have killed them all. Not just the ones near the tent, either," he said, shaking his head and turning his eyes back down to the ground, "but every single one of them."
Padmé held his hand tightly and placed her right arm over his shoulders. "So why didn't you?" she asked, quietly.
He turned his head toward her again. "Because I heard you," he said softly, his eyes searching hers. "When I heard your voice, I remembered how much you mean to me, how much I love you."
Padmé gently rested her chin on his shoulder, gazing at him lovingly as he continued. "If you hadn't been there," he smiled softly, "if it hadn't been for me knowing how much you love me..." He paused a moment, looking back down at their clasped hands, and then gently wrapped both of his hands around hers. He turned his eyes back to her, and she could see them shining in the moonlight. "I would have done something terrible."
She looked deeply into his eyes as he held her gaze for a long moment. "I didn't save your life last night, Padmé," he said quietly. "You saved mine."
Padmé reached out and gently caressed his cheek; her own eyes glistened in the moonlight as she gazed deeply into those bright, blue eyes. She saw no trace of the anger, of the hate she had seen the night before. These were the eyes she loved so much, the ones that shone with love and happiness every time she looked into them.
"I think we both saved each other," she said softly. Anakin took her hand from his cheek and kissed it tenderly.
"I think you're right," he said with a quiet smile.
Anakin gently took her into his arms and they held each other for a long time, the moonlight shining softly on them as the stars twinkled in the night sky.
The winged, scaly creature stepped quietly to the edge of the rocky cliff where he had landed and walked up slowly behind a large rock at the edge of the cliff. Cautiously, he peered over the edge of the precipice and down into the valley below.
He watched in quiet secrecy as he observed the small ship, and the golden-haired man who walked around it for a long time. Then, as silently as he had arrived, he stepped back from the edge, out of sight, and, flapping his wings, took off and headed back off in the direction from which he had come.
Obi-Wan turned to Arfour as a long series of beeps, clicks and whistles caught his attention.
"What do you mean you're not getting a return signal?" he asked impatiently. He walked to the side of the ship and examined the small transmitter dish that protruded from the panel near the wing. Everything seemed to be in order.
"Well," he said, a tone of irritation in his normally calm voice, "the transmitter's working." He looked up toward the sky, then back to his ship, and then took a deep breath. "I suppose that Coruscant may just be too far away," he muttered to himself. "Arfour," he said turning his attention back to the little droid, "can you boost the power?"
Arfour spun his data probe in several directions for a moment, and then spun his sensors back to Obi-Wan, and another series of whistles ensued. Obi-Wan took another deep breath and looked at the transmitter with disgust. "We're going to have to try something else," he said, and then walked to the side of his ship and, as quickly as he could, climbed up into the cockpit.
He quickly turned on his cockpit instrumentation. "Maybe we can contact Anakin on Naboo," he said to himself as he worked. "It's much closer. If we can reach him, we can have him relay the message to the Council." Obi-Wan keyed the coordinates for Naboo into the ship's computer, and the small transmitter dish swung quickly to the left, then adjusted its position, pointing higher into the dusty gold sky.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, directing his attention to the radio's signal display, "Anakin, do you copy? This is Obi-Wan Kenobi. Come in, Anakin."
Obi-Wan kept his eyes focused on the signal display – nothing, just the usual background noise. What alarmed him more, though, was that Anakin's tracking signal wasn't even reading. Obi-Wan's expression grew more grim; the homing transmitters they used could be read from any quadrant in the galaxy.
"He's not on Naboo, Arfour," Obi-Wan called to the little droid behind him. "Let's see if we can find him. Try and widen the search." Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat, and looked out across the rocky terrain, his expression changing from aggravation to one of concern. "I hope that nothing's happened to him," he said quietly, and then turned his attention back to his cockpit's display.
Suddenly, a small blip appeared on the screen. "That's him, Arfour," he said. "See if you can home in on his signal." The little droid worked quickly, and as he did, Obi-Wan's display zoomed in to an adjacent quadrant, then focused on a small solar system.
He frowned as he saw the system appear on his screen. "That's Anakin's tracking signal, all right," he said, "but it's coming from Tatooine. What in the blazes is he doing there? I told him to stay..."
Obi-Wan paused, and then took another deep breath. He had forgotten the message that his young padawan had sent a couple of days earlier. He had indeed instructed Anakin to stay on Naboo. But if Anakin had indeed followed through with what he told him, and had married Padmé...
It didn't matter. Either way, he had to get in touch with Anakin. It was his only hope to contact the Council as soon as he could. "Arfour," he said, climbing out of the cockpit, "lock the transmitter in on Anakin's signal." He walked to the side of the ship and turned on the small holographic transmitter. Arfour spun several dials from his position in the rear of the ship, and then signaled that the transmitter was ready.
"All right, then," Obi-Wan said with a sigh, "we're all set. We haven't much time." He turned his attention to the holographic transmitter. "Anakin? Anakin, do you copy? This is Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Artoo sat at his position onboard the Naboo cruiser. It had been quiet since he had brought the ship home from the Tuscan village the night before, and he had taken advantage of the quiet time taking care of some routine maintenance. He sat at the maintenance terminal in the dim cabin light; having no real need for lighting himself, he preferred to keep the ship's online systems at a minimum. Less power meant fewer emissions, and, seeing that Anakin wanted to keep Padmé's location a secret, it seemed the logical thing to do.
Artoo slowly spun the dial on the maintenance console, when he heard the telltale beep of the ship's transmitter. He swung his sensors toward the console, just in time to see the indicator beacon begin to flash brightly. Removing his data probe from the maintenance console, he turned and wheeled himself over to the communications port, and inserting his probe, began to spin the control wheels quickly.
It only took him a moment to lock in on the signal, and the small holographic projector sprang to life. As it did, Obi-Wan's image appeared at the console.
"Anakin? Anakin, this is Obi-Wan," he said. "Are you receiving me?"
Artoo spun the dials again and transmitted a series of beeps and clicks. In a moment, he heard a series echo from the transmission source, as Obi-Wan appeared to turn his head back toward his ship. Nodding his head, he turned back toward the projector.
Nodding his head, he turned back toward the projector
"Artoo-Deetoo, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said. "I have an urgent message for your mistress, Padmé, and the Jedi Anakin Skywalker. Can you record this message and relay it to them as soon as possible?"
Artoo spun the dials again and transmitted another series of whistles and clicks. The series echoed on the other side, as before, and Obi-Wan nodded to the projector again. "Good," he said. "Record this message." Artoo instantly switched on his recorder as Obi-Wan began to speak.
"Anakin," he said, "my long-range transmitter has been knocked out. I need you to relay this message to the Council on Coruscant..."
Anakin sat on the padded bench, his arm around Padmé, as she sat snuggled close to him, her head resting on his shoulder. He looked at her again and smiled. She had dozed off a while earlier, and was sleeping contentedly, his arm snuggly around her shoulders. He knew she still had to be tired from her ordeal the night before, so he had relaxed beside her and closed his eyes, allowing her familiar, soothing presence to flow through him.
He could feel the Force so strongly when he was with her; everything good he had ever felt – love, companionship, happiness, devotion, peace – they all flowed through him, as freely as water, whenever he was near her. He knew that the Force bound all living things together, but never had he sensed it as he could now. If love was a tangible thing, he could feel it, touch it almost, as it moved from her to him and back again. So much of his life had been so unsettled; the feeling brought with it a sense of complete contentment and peace.
Off in the distance, he heard a familiar sound approaching, and he lifted his head and opened his eyes, turning and looking back toward the side of the house. There was no mistaking the familiar, whirring sound; he knew it was Artoo approaching. He turned and looked back out over the sandy terrain thoughtfully; why would Artoo be coming to find them at this late hour?
Padmé felt him stir, and she lifted her head and opened her eyes. "What is it, Ani?" she asked sleepily.
Anakin turned and looked back toward the side of the house. "Artoo's coming," he said, quietly.
Padmé sat up straighter and looked over her shoulder, just in time to see the little droid roll around the side of the house toward the place where they were seated. As he saw them, he began to whistle excitedly as he approached.
"Something's going on," Padmé said, turning to look at Anakin again. He nodded his head, and then reached for the transmitter he kept on his belt, just as Artoo wheeled in front of them.
"What is it, Artoo?" Padmé asked, as she wiped her eyes sleepily. Artoo responded with a series of beeps and clicks, and Anakin looked at the transmitter in his hand as the translation appeared on the small display.
Anakin turned his attention back to Padmé. "He says he's got an urgent message from Master Obi-Wan," he said. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Anakin turned and looked at Artoo. "All right, Artoo," he said. "Head back to the ship. We'll meet you there in a few minutes."
Artoo nodded, and then turned on his wheels and headed back in the direction from which he had come. Anakin stood up, extending his hand to Padmé. "Come on," he said, helping her up. "We'd better go see what's going on."
Padmé nodded, and, picking up the glasses that sat on the table in front of them, she and Anakin turned and made their way back into the house.
Anakin reached for the control panel as he entered the ship, and blinked for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the ships interior lights as they came up to full brightness. Padmé followed closely behind him as they made their way into the large, circular cockpit.
Artoo sat ready at the communications terminal. Anakin reached and took his jacket from a nearby hook and put him arm through the sleeve. "Alright, Artoo," he said, pulling his jacket up and onto his shoulders, as he took a seat in the copilot's chair, "contact the Council and patch us in to them." As Padmé came and stood behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders, Anakin turned and pressed a button on the ship's main console, and a small holographic projection platform opened on the round table in the center of the cockpit.
"Once you have the Council online," he said as he worked, "go ahead and replay the message." He turned back toward the projector, and he watched as Threepio walked through the entrance passage and stood behind Padmé.
Artoo spun the dials on the communications terminal for a few moments, and then Artoo spun his censors back toward Anakin, and a long series of beeps and whistles followed. As he finished, the lights dimmed a little, and a rough, intermittent hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared above the projector in the center of the ship's cockpit.
"Anakin," he said, "my long-range transmitter has been knocked out. I need you to retransmit this message to Coruscant." Anakin nodded at Artoo, and Artoo tied in the transmitter to the signal he was receiving from the Council.
The blue green image flicked again as the message continued. "I have tracked the bounty hunter Jango Fett to the droid foundries on Geonosis," he said.
Mace Windu, Yoda, and the other Council members sat in their chairs in the large, circular Council Chamber, listening intently. In the center of the room, a large holographic image of Obi-Wan Kenobi flickered randomly as the broken signal arrived from Anakin's ship.
"The Trade Federation is to take delivery of a droid army here and it is clear that Viceroy Gunray is behind the assassination attempts on Senator Amidala."
Mace Windu listened intently as Obi-Wan continued. "The Commerce Guilds and Corporate Alliance have both pledged their armies to Count Dooku and are forming an... Wait!... Wait!"
Anakin's hands gripped the armrests on his chair tightly as he saw two Droidekas role close to Obi-Wan and, as they unfolded and drew their weapons to bear on him, his light saber blazed to life and deflected the first few laser bolts. Then, the transmission suddenly went dead, and the image disappeared.
Padmé squeezed his shoulders as she felt his body tense. Suddenly, Mace Windu's image appeared on the holographic projector. His countenance was reserved, concerned. "Anakin," he said, "We will deal with Count Dooku. The most important thing for you is to stay where you are. Protect the Senator at all costs."
Anakin started to reply, but before he could, Windu raised his hand. "That is your first priority," he said.
Anakin took a deep breath. "Understood, Master," he replied, settling back into the chair.
Mace Windu nodded at him, and the image faded as the transmission ceased.
They stood quietly for a moment, and then Padmé squeezed Anakin's shoulders gently, comfortingly. "Anakin," she said, quietly. "They'll never get to him in time to save him. They have to come halfway across the galaxy."
Anakin could still see the image of his master, his light saber flashing brilliantly as he was attacked. He knew his master's abilities, but one Droideka was enough to deal with; two were more than a match for virtually anyone. He reached up and took Padmé's hand in his, holding it tightly. "If he's still alive," he said, quietly.
Padmé let go of his hand and walked to the pilot's chair next to him. As she sat down, she pressed a button on the console, and the main display blazed to life. "Look, Ani," she said, as she called up the Geonosian system on the display. "Geonosis is less than a parsec away from us." She turned and looked at him, and their eyes met. "We could get there in no time."
Anakin looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Padmé," he said, "Master Windu gave me strict orders to stay here and protect you."
Padmé smiled back at him, and then reached to him, taking his hand in hers. "He gave you strict orders to protect me, Ani," she said softly. "But Obi-Wan is your friend, your mentor." She paused a moment, her eyes searching his. "Besides," she said quietly, "you left the Order. You're not bound by orders anymore." She stood up quietly, taking a step closer to him, and then knelt beside the chair where he sat. She squeezed his hand tightly as her eyes met his.
"You're still a Jedi, Ani," she said softly. "Obi-Wan needs you, but it's up to you. I know you can help him, and if you want to go, we will."
Anakin's eyes searched hers for a long moment. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke. "I suppose that asking you to stay here is out of the question," he said quietly.
Padmé smiled back at him, reaching up and caressing his cheek gently. "See?" she grinned. "You are starting to figure out how this works."
"Artoo," she said, her eyes never leaving Anakin's, "get the ship ready. We're going to Geonosis."
Our story continues shortly...