Chapter Two
As it happened in that first timeline, Obi-Wan and I are greeted at the door by Jar Jar Binks who, if my memory is accurate, was serving as a representative for Naboo in the Galactic Republic. And much like that first time around, I register very little of what he says to me or Obi-Wan because I am already furtively scanning the room for a glimpse of her. The gungan prattles on about how happy he is to see me again and how much I've grown I think, but his enthusiasm only registers as white noise of the periphery of my universe.
My heart freezes mid beat before resuming in a crazy, staccato rhythm when I notice her approach the foyer. Immediately, my palms begin to sweat. Not because she is a vision of indescribable beauty, her petite, lithe frame wrapped in a black, beaded overcoat and dark blue, embroidered gown, her dark hair elegantly arranged and hidden under a decorative headpiece. She is a goddess in my eyes. But it is not her stunning beauty that momentarily robs me of my breath, my ability to think.
What leaves me shattered is that when I see her, I am instantly assaulted by my last tortured memories of her…her dark eyes pleading, widened with terror and desperation as she claws futilely at her closing throat, struggling for air, silently begging me to stop… I see her, heavy with my child, crumple to the ground again and again and again. Even with my eyes closed, the horrifying recollection of that terrible night continues to play itself out behind my trembling eyelids in a sickening, endless loop.
I want to vomit. My stomach lurches painfully. The bile rises hotly in my throat. For a moment I fear I will become ill then and there. I grit my teeth hard against the sensation.
There is a large part of me, the weak, pathetic part of me, that wants to prostrate myself at her feet and beg for her forgiveness, to plead for her love, to tuck myself away in her protective embrace and hide myself from the sins I've committed. The rest of me simply wants to run away. In the end, I do neither. My feet are cemented in place. I stand there and accept my fate, shaking with abject dread as she makes her approach.
She doesn't notice me right away. Her eyes are trained on my old master so, she hardly pays attention to the unfamiliar Jedi who stands behind him. And that suits me just fine because I'm not ready for her to see me, would be perfectly content if she never sees me…
I can't quite tamp down the need for escape. It is instinctive and pervasive. I can feel myself growing more and more anxious as seconds pass. She and Obi-Wan are exchanging pleasantries but, it sounds to me as if their exchange is happening inside of a vacuum. I can't hear a word they're saying past the blood that is roaring in my ears. My entire body is clammy with perspiration. The refrain of run, run, run beats steadily in my brain.
It's quite ludicrous really, how far I have fallen from the man I was. The emperor's fearsome enforcer, his undisputed fist, the most dangerous and hated man in the galaxy, reduced to a sweating, trembling puddle over the prospect of coming face to face with his long dead wife. I'm disgusted with myself, disgusted with my weakness but mostly, I am overwhelmed with the fear that I will be unable to change anything.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity of agony, she turns to look at me…and then she smiles, a smile so pure and beautiful and full of genuine affection and joy that I want to die when I see it. I literally want to die because I don't deserve it.
"Ani?" she exclaims, her eyes flaring wide with surprised disbelief, "My how you've grown!"
I don't have a ready reply for her. The interior of my mouth has become impossibly arid. My throat is constricted with emotion. In that moment, I cannot recall what exactly I said to her all those years ago in that first timeline. Probably something unforgivably stupid given how socially inept I had been at 19 years old, but I imagine that it had been as difficult for me to formulate a reply to her then as it is for me now…though the reasons for that difficulty are entirely different.
Though I cannot meet her eyes directly, somehow, I manage to push a mumbled, "It is very good to see you again, Senator Amidala," past my lips.
In my peripheral vision, I can see Obi-Wan's astounded doubletake. He doesn't bother to cover his shock at all. Clearly, he wasn't expecting my reserved reply and, when I chance a glance over at Padme', I can see that neither was she. Her smile falters ever so slightly.
"Becoming a Jedi has made you so formal," she teases, "Surely there's no need for that between old friends, is there?"
Rather than encouraging the idea that we are friends or that we ever could be friends, I reply, "I'm a padawan, milady, not a Jedi. Not yet." Maybe not ever.
She continues to appraise me with a scrutinizing stare, her smile becoming almost thoughtful as she murmurs, "All the same, it is good to see you again as well, padawan Skywalker. Come. Let us discuss the business at hand. I would like to know who's trying to kill me."
I follow her and Obi-Wan on wooden legs into the interior of the apartment and I'm only vaguely aware of taking a seat next to my old master on the ornate sofa situated in the formal sitting room. It's impossible not to recall the countless times Padme' and I have had dinner together on this very couch, the low, whispered conversations late into the night, the fierce arguments sparked by our vastly different political views and the equally fierce make-up sessions that followed… Nights filled with laughter and stolen kisses and aching regrets. The memories crash over me, drowning out everything else.
Captain Typho earnestly briefs us on the recent attempt on Padme's life but, I hear nothing. See nothing except ghosts and missed opportunities. As I sit there, it all feels like a ridiculous charade. I'm going through the motions, pretending that I don't know that my mother is dying as we speak. I feign ignorance of the knowledge that Count Dooku of Serenno is behind the plot to murder my wife and that the plot had been orchestrated by the Sith lord Darth Sidious who was currently masquerading as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Senate.
They are just beginning the game whereas I've already collected my winnings and left the table. What remains a mystery for Captain Typho, Padme' and Obi-Wan has already been written and sealed for me long ago. It all seems to clear now, in hindsight, when everything had been deeply shrouded in mystery before.
And it is all so very frustrating because, while I have the advantage of this foreknowledge, I am at a complete loss as to how to use it. The script is playing out exactly as it had in that first timeline and, so far, nothing I've done has deterred the present course. Even my attempts to avoid being assigned as Padme's protective detail have failed miserably.
I need time to think, to plot and strategize my next move but that has been next to impossible with Obi-Wan and Padme' so near. I can't think clearly with them so close, clouding my judgment, muddying my emotions… And I need a clear head right now because I absolutely cannot face that same future again.
Finally, it all becomes too much for me and I know I must get out of there before I lose my composure completely. When I abruptly shift to my feet, the conversation immediately halts. Three pairs of eyes swing in my direction, surveying me in a varied mix of confusion, curiosity, and concern.
"My apologies to you all. I suddenly need some air. If you'll excuse me…"
I'm already striding directly towards the terrace that overlooks the city before any one of them can reply, deactivating the invisible shield with ease to gain access to the outside. I fail to consider that my actions might raise unanswerable questions. I shouldn't know the layout of this apartment as well as I do, nor should I know how to disable its security shields.
But I can't care about that right now. I need to be outside, need to feel the sun on my face, to gulp down clean, crisp air and simply have a second to settle my frayed nerves and think. Unfortunately, it is an altogether brief respite, because before I can even begin to calm myself Padme' is there.
She joins me out on the balcony, and I almost groan aloud to see her approach. But before I can beg her to leave me in peace because I absolutely cannot deal with her presence right then, she presses a steaming cup of what I can only assume is tea, into my hands. The heady scents of jasmine and cinnamon fill my nose. I bounce a confused glance between her and the cup.
"Why?"
She favors me with a commiserative look. "They're aromatics, meant to calm a restless spirit. You looked like you needed it."
I grunt a mirthless laugh at that but take an obliging sip of the warm liquid, nonetheless. "You're like Obi-Wan," I remark wryly, "He thinks tea fixes everything."
"Well, not everything…" she teases with an impudent, sideways smile, "But it certainly helps…"
For a moment, we stand there together in companiable silence and contemplate the gleaming cityscape sprawled out before us. She isn't wrong. The tea is soothing, and I can feel my emotions become slightly less chaotic as I sip it.
"This really is an incredible view, isn't it?" she says, "I like to come out here to think when I'm especially troubled about something." I already know that about her but, of course, I say nothing. She is undeterred by my answering silence, however, and forges ahead with what I suspect is the true reason she joined me out here. "Is everything alright with you, Ani?"
"Isn't that something I should be asking you?" I counter in deliberate avoidance, "You're the one who nearly died this morning."
I can't help but tense a bit when she steps closer to me. But, instead of touching me as I feared she would, she reaches into the neckline of her gown to tug free the japor snippet that I had carved for her so many years ago. Her pretty features slacken into an aggrieved expression as grasps it firmly in her palm. "You were right. It has brought me good fortune. But I never imagined that fortune would be at the expense of someone else's."
"Corde's death wasn't your fault, milady."
Padme' inhales a sharp breath, a manifestation of her shock over my correctly discerning the source of her pain and what she had left unspoken. She has no way of knowing that she'd divulged those hidden secrets to me long ago in another lifetime. She regards me now, her large, brown eyes glittering with unshed tears.
"Then why does it feel like it?"
"She died to protect you. She did her duty, and she wouldn't want you to feel guilty."
"And how would you know what she would want?" she challenges with an arch, humorless smile.
"Let's just say that I can easily imagine putting myself in her place for someone I care about."
She nods sagely to this, as if she understands the unspoken meaning behind my words, but I know she does not. She can't possibly comprehend the depth of what I feel for her even now, the love the threatens to consume me entirely with every second I spend in her presence…and she never will as far as I'm concerned. I take another swallow of the tea, draining the cup, futilely hoping the bracing liquid will fortify me for the task that lies ahead.
Careful to keep my expression neutral, I turn and hand her the empty cup. "Thank you for the tea."
The gesture is clearly a dismissal. She knows it and I know it. And…she completely ignores it.
"Are…are you angry with me, Ani?" she asks me tentatively.
This isn't going at all the way I thought that this would go, and that fact is only serving to further fray my nerves. Still, I steadfastly maintain my aloof exterior. "Why would I be angry with you?"
"I know it has been some time since we last saw one another…"
"…it has…"
"…and ten years is a very long time…"
"…I agree…"
"…but I've never forgotten you, Anakin," she confesses softly, stunning me into silence at last, "Did you think that I had?"
I honestly don't know how to respond to her. Not because the admission is news to me. I am quite aware of her feelings about me and our ten-year separation. Over the course of our brief marriage, Padme' and I had spoken countless times about those lost years between us following the battle of Naboo and our eventual reunion as well as the reasons why that silence between us had persisted. She had thought of me often, she'd confessed, but she had been warned against interfering with my Jedi training. And so, out of a sense of duty, she had kept her distance.
However, she hadn't confided those secrets in me until long after our romantic relationship had been established, certainly not in the early stages of our courtship when I had been arrogant, brash, and forthright and she had been reserved, duty-bound and determined not to love me. So, to have her divulge these long-guarded truths to me now is somewhat…unsettling, like I'm suddenly traversing uncharted territory without map or compass.
"Why are you telling me this, milady?"
"I wanted you to know that I am happy to see you again," she says as if that explanation should be the most obvious thing in the world to me, "Are you happy to see me as well?"
Thankfully, I'm spared from formulating a reply at all or, worse yet, attempting to concoct an outright lie because Obi-Wan chooses that exact moment to join us out on the balcony. I have never been more grateful for his timing and that is saying something given the conflict and emotional instability he's been stirring up in me. Still, I would prefer that to the churning uncertainty Padme' evokes with her proximity alone.
There must be something in Obi-Wan's expression that indicates to her that he wishes to speak to me privately because, without a single verbal cue, she graciously nods, smiles then murmurs, "I will give you your privacy then." Once Padme' has taken her leave and Obi-Wan and I are relatively isolated on the balcony, I begin to regret the gratitude I'd felt only seconds earlier because he almost immediately begins interrogating me.
"Anakin, you must tell me what is troubling you," he urges, (and only he can make a plea sound like a command), "And please don't be dismissive. We are far beyond that now and you're clearly distressed." When I don't respond right away, he pushes further. "Is it your mother? Are you still having the dreams?"
In an instant, my irritation with him slips away. With so much happening at once, I hadn't even thought about being plagued by those terrible dreams. I recall that I was getting very little sleep in those days, no more than a couple of hours a night. I had foreseen my mother's anguish again and again though I wouldn't recognize those visions as portentous until it was too late. Endless, frightful nightmares of her enduring unspeakable pain and crying out for me to help her. The dreams would be so intense, so visceral that they would wrench me from sleep and leave my entire body drenched in a cold sweat.
In that first timeline, while I had been preoccupied with uncovering the identity of Padme's mysterious assassin and then later protecting her from that unknown threat, my mother had been kidnapped by Tusken Raiders and beaten and tortured to the point of death. By the time I had found her, she had spent weeks in captivity, and it had been too late for me to intervene in her fate. She had died in my arms. Nothing has truly changed in this timeline either. And I've never forgotten the shock, the raw grief that I felt in that moment…as if I had lost my most precious possession in the entire world (but truly that reality would come later).
My mother had been everything to me and it was her loss, my anguish in the wake of that unimaginable loss that had prompted my first true steps towards the dark side. And perhaps, that was the reason the Force had chosen to transport me back to this time in the first place. I wasn't here to prevent the war. This wasn't simply a matter of destroying Sheev Palpatine. Perhaps, I was meant to retrace my steps altogether, to prevent my own fall.
Was that even possible? Was it truly too late for me to intervene now? I already know based on what Cliegg Lars told me that she's already been taken. Likely her husband's attempt to rescue her had already come to pass and resulted in failure. Still, I reason a little wildly, my mother can't have been in the raiders' camp for very long…at least, not as long as before. If I could get there in time, I could perhaps make a difference. I could do what I hadn't been able to do the first time…prevent her death.
That vague hope has been expanding weakly in my heart for the better part of the morning, but only now does it bloom entirely. My only problem is timing, and I know that each minute is precious. I've only started to mentally execute some half-formed plan to bring that hope into fruition when I blurt to Obi-Wan, "Senator Amidala is in danger!"
"Yes, I am aware," Obi-Wan replies slowly, as if the effort is testing the tenuous limits of his patience, "That is why we are here after all. However, that hardly addresses the matter at hand, Anakin…namely why you are behaving so strangely…"
"No, you don't understand. The danger is more immediate, Master. There will be another attempt on her life. Very soon, in fact."
Obi-Wan's impatience with me instantly gives way to concern and disbelief. "You're certain of this?"
"Yes. She cannot remain here."
"And this is the reason you've been so preoccupied all morning?" He strokes his beard thoughtfully as he begins to draw his own conclusion for my inexplicable behavior. "You've had a vision then?" I hitch a nod, not hesitating to latch onto that readily offered and completely plausible excuse given my Force ability to foresee the future. "Did you see anything else?" he asks.
I'm momentarily halted by the surprising undercurrent of guilt I feel over misleading him but then I think of my mother and the real opportunity I've been given to save her life, and I quickly get over it. "A planet. Kamino," I tell him, "And a name. Sifo Dyas."
"I've never heard of either."
"The planet will be difficult for you to find but, it's there I assure you."
"And you've seen all of this?" he presses. I jerk my head in another terse nod. While it isn't a complete lie it is also not the entire truth, and I don't trust myself enough right now to spin a tale elaborate enough to justify what I've just told him. "Anakin, why didn't you say anything about this before when we were with the Council?" he exclaims in exasperation, "We could have benefitted from their insight on the matter!"
"How could I when I didn't fully understand myself? Besides that, Master Yoda says that the future is always in motion so it's subject to change. You know very well that the Council ever given any real consideration to my dreams!"
"Right…" he sighs, and I can see his righteous ire subsiding as he does, "…of course. My apologies. I should not have been so harsh with you." I feel another pang of guilt, more visceral than the last but, I resolutely ignore it. "We must brief the Council with this information. They will advise us on our next course of action."
"There's no time for that," I insist, trying not to sound as desperate as I feel, "We must move Senator Amidala now!"
I'm not expecting him to come onboard easily, and I can see from the look on his face that he is clearly reluctant to act without the directive of the Council. His next words confirm my suspicions. "We shouldn't act rashly. Surely, we have some time to-,"
"—There is no time, Master! I'm telling you what I've seen! This was a Force vision, a warning! Clearly, some urgency is called for in this matter!"
He still seems hesitant, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to throttle him where he stands. This slow, plodding need to inspect every corner and measure every angle of a matter before acting is exactly what drives me mad about the Jedi High Council and the Galactic Senate! I almost want to shove past him and take off for Tatooine without any explanation whatsoever. But I know that if I want my plan to work, all of it, I will need to handle this situation with finesse.
With that in mind, I keep a tight hold on my temper and wait for Obi-Wan to work out his internal struggle. I can tell that he is weighing the wisdom in my argument for urgency against the prospect of acting without the blessing of the Council, a prospect that I know pains him. Finally, he shakes his head, despite the doubt clouding his countenance. "Anakin, the Council must be briefed."
"I'm not saying that they should not," I reply mildly, "Absolutely. No question. But we should still move Senator Amidala to a more secure location in the meantime. For her own good…"
"She'll likely need to be taken off-world…" he murmurs, more to himself than to me, "…far from Coruscant."
I roll my lips inward to control my triumphant grin over his albeit acquiesce. "Of course, Master…"
"I imagine the Council will want her escorted to her home world of Naboo where she will fall under the protection of Queen Jamillia."
"She can't go to Naboo! That's too obvious! If the assassin can't find here on Coruscant then surely the next place he'll go is Naboo."
My argument is met with an aggravated eye roll. "Then where would you suggest we take her?"
I pause a beat, as if I am thoughtfully considering several options when I already know exactly where I want to go. I've known since the moment our entire conversation began. "Tatooine."
Obi-Wan's tight expression gives way to one of knowing exasperation. "Anakin, really…!"
"It's the perfect hiding place! I know the planet well and no assassin would ever think to look for her there!"
"And this has nothing at all to do with your mother?"
"No, of course not! But I won't pretend that I'm not elated over possibly seeing her again because I am."
"Be mindful of your feelings, Anakin," he warns me, "Your duty is to protect the senator."
"And I will do my duty, Master. You know how I feel about her. I won't let anything happen."
"Somehow that reassurance does little to comfort me."
"Master, please…"
"Very well," he sighs with a dismissive wave, "I will share what you've told me with the Council. In the meantime, you should speak to Senator Amidala and convince her that it is imperative that she leave the planet immediately. I have no doubt that she will put up quite a bit of resistance."
"I can convince her. Don't worry." He looks skeptical at my claim, likely attributing my confidence to youthful arrogance but he nods his agreement, nonetheless.
"Very good," he says, "You should start preparing yourself for the journey then." He turns to exit the terrace but stops after a few strides to glance back at me over his shoulder. "Anakin, please be careful. Travel by registered transport. You don't want to attract unwanted attention."
"Of course, Master. There's one more thing I should tell you!" He raises his eyebrows in silent indication that I should continue. Even with the distance between us I can detect the long-suffering in his stare. "When you reach Kamino, you will find a man, a Mandalorian bounty hunter named Jango Fett," I warn him, "He will try to escape and, when you try to take him into custody, he will attack you. But do not follow him afterward. Come to me on Tatooine first."
"Anakin, how do you—?"
"—Please. Just trust me, Master. And say nothing to the Council about this. I promise that I will explain my reasoning to you when we meet on Tatooine."
"You're asking me not to mention this to the Jedi High Council? Which part?"
"The bounty hunter. Not yet," I tell him, "Not until you've found what it is you need to find."
"What I need to find? What does that mean? You're being very mysterious about all of this, Anakin." He studies me with a steadily deepening frown, and I fear that he's prepared to dismiss everything I've just told him. But then, he slumps forward and sighs as if he's waging an internal battle with himself.
"I don't quite understand what is happening but, something in the Force is urging me not to dismiss what you've said out of turn," he says finally, "So, I will do as you ask…for now."
I practically shrivel with relief. "Thank you, Master!"
"Don't make me regret it." As he starts to turn away again, he adds, "And Anakin?"
"Yes, Master?"
"May the Force be with you."
"May the Force be with you too, Master." I watch him disappear into the apartment, surprised by the realization that I mean the words utterly.