Title: Labyrinth
Author: Jedi Rita
Rated: PG-13
Note: Once again I shamelessly stole from "Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter" with the electro-net. And the Phindian is the same species as Paxxi and Guerra from the supremely excellent Jedi Apprentice series. If you haven't read those books, you are missing the best pro-fic of the Star Wars universe!
Chapter Twelve
When Anakin next woke, he did not know if he had dreamed at all. He felt exhausted, drained. His sleep had not been restful, but at least he didn't remember his dreams. He lay curled up next to Padme. Asleep, she was even more beautiful. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't dare. He rose quietly so as not to disturb her, and returned to the room where Jar Jar and Bail lay sleeping, to retrieve the water bottles. He didn't have to go far to find the water source he'd identified the day before. It was a shallow pool. Not very clean, but the water at the surface was fairly clear, and the decontamination tablets took care of any biohazards. Anakin drank deeply of the bitter water, then refilled the bottle. He had one more errand before returning to the others. During his wandering the night before he had come across a pile of debris. He hoped to find something the Prince could use as a walking stick to help take the pressure off his injured knee.
He soon found the trash pile and scrounged around for a suitable stick or strut of some kind. Why hadn't he thought to look for a walking stick for Bail before? Why had he made the journey so hard for the Prince? But he knew why. He hadn't cared. Anakin liked the idea of being a dashing hero, of rushing in to save the helpless and defeat evildoers. He had been so enamored of this romantic vision of himself that he had failed to recognize that real life was different. Real life was about trudging through long, dark corridors, about scrounging for food and water, about calming fears and cooling tempers. Real life was about accepting people's shortcomings and helping them to move beyond their limits. Real life meant that even dashing heroes had weaknesses.
Anakin had not acquitted himself very well on this mission. Yes, he'd killed some bounty hunters, but he had failed the people who really needed him, first by not attending to their needs, and then by passing his frustration onto them for the mistakes he had made. But this mission wasn't about Anakin Skywalker being a hero. It was about saving people's lives. He had made mistakes, but fortunately everyone was still alive, including Obi- Wan, to the best of his knowledge. From now on he must set aside even his own self-doubt and do everything he could to make sure they all stayed alive. He must rise above himself. He must live for the others.
He found a suitable walking stick and headed back to their camp, feeling older. Maybe not wiser, certainly not happier, but more experienced, hardened, and hopefully more capable of fulfilling his duty. No more rash promises about being a model padawan. He would simply do what he had to do.
When he returned, he found the others rousing from sleep. He passed around the water bottles and handed Bail the stick, saying, "I thought this would help you walk better. How does your knee feel?"
Bail flexed his right leg tentatively. It didn't bend very far. Wincing, he said, "It's stiff, but I'll survive. Thank you for the walking stick. It will definitely help."
Anakin nodded. "Today, you set the pace, and the rest of us will keep up. We'll be out of here soon enough."
They breakfasted on cold rat, and before long were once more on their way. They walked in silence, at a slow but steady pace. They were all more than ready to leave the ground level, and they focused all their energy and attention on that task, leaving no room for chit chat or batter.
As they progressed, they saw more and more signs of recent habitation. Someone had lived here not long ago, maybe still lived there. No one was sure if this was good news or bad news. Anakin kept his hand close to his lightsaber hilt, watchful and alert.
They came to a small atrium that had several corridors branching off it. Padme started to enter the atrium, heading toward the corridor opposite them, but Anakin stopped her. She looked at him nervously. "What is it?"
He only shook his head. "Something's not good, but I don't know where or what it is." Anakin's Force-sense was amazingly perceptive, but he could have a hard time focusing it if he wasn't personally connected in some way.
The others waited in anxious silence as Anakin concentrated. Jar Jar, though frightened, was too tired to whimper. Bail reluctantly prompted, "So, what do we do?"
Anakin apprehensively peered down the corridors one by one, stretching out with his senses but picking up on no malicious intent, sentient or otherwise. "I don't know," he admitted.
Padme looked at Jar Jar. "Do you hear anything?" The Gungan wagged his head no. She suggested, "Maybe we should go back the way we came and find another route."
Anakin considered, then slowly shook his head. "It would take too long. We might as well go on. We can face whatever it is." He straightened his shoulders, projecting a confidence he didn't actually feel, and led the group into the atrium.
They were half way across the clearing when Anakin's danger sense snapped into focus. "It's above us!" he screamed, igniting his blade. "Run!"
But it was too late. They had unwittingly tripped a sensor, and an electro- net fell upon them from where it had been concealed on the ceiling. Anakin's saber sparked violently when it came into contact with the net. An excruciating pain shot through his arm and into his body, and he blacked out.
*****
An ear-splitting alarm went off, jolting Padme back into consciousness, her head aching. At least this time she didn't feel like throwing up. She only wished her skull would split open so the rampaging kaadu stomping around in her brain could get out. She carefully pushed herself up into a sitting position. The other three still lay unconscious. They were in a cage, a large cell made up of bars as big as her forearm.
The cage was in the center of another large, warehouse-like room. Like the one they had encountered before, several levels above had been knocked out to form a high ceiling. Walls had been removed to create a large room, and sections of the outer wall had been cut through on the upper levels to admit light. But unlike the other room, this one was inhabited. It was a kind of squatters' camp. Makeshift tents and shelters had been constructed around the edges of the room. People sat around campsites or worked on broken pieces of machinery. No one was looking in her direction. In fact, they seem to avoid looking at the prisoners.
She crawled over to Anakin's side and gently shook him awake. He roused instantly, then uttered a low moan, clutching his right arm. Concerned, Padme asked, "Are you all right?"
He grimaced. "Yeah. That net shorted out my saber and gave my arm a nasty shock, but I'll be okay." He cautiously flexed his arm while looking around and taking in their situation as Padme had done. While she woke Bail and Jar Jar, Anakin noticed that their weapons were gone, including his lightsaber.
Bail clutched his head. At least the headache made him forget about his knee. He looked out at the room's inhabitants. "Any idea who these people are?"
Padme shook her head. "They are ignoring us."
Bail looked at Anakin, almost as if seeking the boy's permission. "They don't look like bounty hunters," he observed. "They look homeless. I suggest we try to talk with them and find out what they want with us."
Anakin nodded, and Bail gingerly got to his feet, followed by the others. He tried to catch someone's eye, but no one looked at them. "Excuse me," he called out.
A small group that had been sitting around a makeshift table rose and approached the cage, pointing rifles at them, *their* rifles, the ones they'd taken from the bounty hunters, including Padme's little blaster, and --
"My lightsaber!" Anakin exclaimed in a low voice.
The weapon hung from the belt of a tough looking, middle-aged Phindian. "It doesn't work anymore," she informed him. "The electro-net seems to have broken it. Too bad. I've always wanted to see a lightsaber in action." She shrugged. "I'd give it back to you, but who knows? You might be able to fix it, and we can't have that."
"Who are you?" Bail asked.
The Phindian sneered at him. "We're no one to you, Senator."
So their captors knew who they were. Not a good sign.
The leader continued, spreading her long arms wide to indicate the community in the room. "We are the undocumented, the disappeared, the outcasts. Your Republic has no place for us, so we live down here where no one bothers us and we don't bother no-body."
Bail mildly observed, "Except us. You have obviously captured us."
The Phindian laughed. "True enough! Somebody visited us and told us you might be coming along. We promised we'd keep an eye out for you, and you obligingly walked into one of our security nets."
"Who wants us?" Bail asked, hoping against hope that it might be the Jedi or Security Forces.
"They didn't say who they were," the Phindian admitted, "but they looked really nasty, and they promised to reward us well. They are going to supply us with new IDs so we can all get out of here."
The bounty hunters would have such contacts. The prisoners' hearts sank. Bail offered, "If you know who we are, then you'll realize that we can reward you as well. We can pay you more than the bounty hunters are offering."
One of the others, a Gotal, nudged the Phindian and grumbled, "See, I told you."
Trying to hide her dismay, the Phindian replied, "What would you have me do? Go up against bounty hunters?"
"We could have caught them first and then made a decision. The bounty hunters would never need to know."
"You don't think they would have found out and come back for revenge?" the Phindian angrily protested.
"It's not too late," Bail offered. "We can still talk, and we'll be able to offer you protection against the hunters."
"And what help would you really offer us?" the Phindian sneered. "You only care about your rich and powerful friends. People like us don't matter to you."
"You're wrong," Bail began, but she cut him off.
"You think we're all criminals, don't you? I was once. I got caught and served my time. But when I got out, I couldn't find a job because no one would hire me when they saw I had a record." She gestured to her comrades. "Some of these have the same story, but others just got down on their luck, got fired and lost their homes. Do they deserve this? What do we owe you that we should stick our necks out for you? You've done precious little for us, Senator." She spat out the title like a curse.
Bail remained silent. The stories she told him were not unfamiliar to him, but there was not much he could do. Every system had cracks through which innocent people fell. True, lately the cracks had gotten wider, but he had his hands full with a Senate that seemed increasingly unable to do anything effective. Or so he had told himself. He found he could not in all good conscious defend himself in front of these people, but to his surprise, Anakin defended him instead.
The boy stepped up to the bars, fixing the Phinidian in his gaze. "Senator Organa is the best friend you've got. He's always trying to help people."
The Phindian scoffed, "He makes the bounty hunters look like ministering angels. Anyway, there's no point trying to convince us to help you. We already sounded the signal for them. They'll be on their way by now."
So that's what the alarm that had woken Padme was, a signal to the bounty hunters.
Anakin knew it was up to him down. He emptied his mind of all fear, anxiety, or thought, opening himself fully to the Force. It flowed through him, infusing his body and mind with its warmth and pure energy. There was no hint of the beast now. It was as if it had never existed. Anakin focused on the cage's lock and it fell open, the door swinging out. Their captors raised their rifles at him as he stepped out of the cage. Without taking his eyes off the guns, he turned his head slightly toward his friends. "Follow me," he said. "It's all right." He walked resolutely on toward their captors.
"Shoot him!" the Phindian yelled. She raised her rifle and fired at him.
Anakin raised his hand and deflected the bolt harmlessly up into the ceiling, as if swatting away a fly.
Stunned, the Phindian stepped back. The others all lowered their guns in shock. Anakin kept walking forward, the others following him, amazed at what he had done, but still fearful.
When she realized the others were going to let him go, the Phindian raised her rifle at him once more. "You are not getting away!" she growled. "Shoot him, or the bounty hunters will shoot us!" Again she fired upon him, and several of the others did as well. Anakin raised both hands and deflected the shots up, calling them to him and sending them toward the ceiling, his mind calm and clear. His palms tingled, but they were not hurt. He gestured toward the Phindian and the rifle flew out of her grasp and into his. He pointed the gun at her as the others stopped firing at him.
"We are leaving now, and that's final."
The crowd faltered, and for a moment the Phindian looked like she would give in, too. Then her eyes hardened with resolve. "No. We are civilians. You won't harm us." Raising her voice, she called out to the people gathered around. "Lower your weapons and surround them. We can't let them get away."
The crowd followed her instructions, forming a tight circle around him, three beings deep. They were afraid, but Anakin could see the determination in their eyes. Their only hope of escaping their exile was to turn their captives over to the bounty hunters, and they would risk anything for that hope.
Anakin stared down the sights of the rifle toward the Phindian, his finger on the trigger, his certainty wavering. Surely if he shot her it could be called self-defense. But she was right. These people were all innocent. They had fallen through the cracks of the Republic, outcasts with no rights, as he had once been. Was it so wrong of them to do whatever they could for their freedom? And would he truly be justified in firing upon them?
He lowered the muzzle of his rifle and looked fully into the Phindian's eyes. "Let us go," he said. It was no mind trick. It was simply a request from one outcast to another.
The Phindian met his gaze with genuine remorse. "I'm sorry, kid. We can't do that."
A low rumble filled the air, and four speeder bikes flew through the knocked out portion of the wall. They fanned out immediately, and Anakin knew there was no way he could get them all. He tracked one of them with his rifle, but did not fire. The four bikes settled in the midst of the crowd, surrounding Anakin and the others. They all wore the trademark helmets of the Fetts. Anakin tightened his grip on the rifle and pointed the weapon at the man nearest to him.
The bounty hunter raised both hands and slowly dismounted, Anakin watching him warily. The Fett growled, "You, Jedi. Are you the one who killed my cousin?"
Anakin did not lower his gun. "Yes."
"Not many people in this galaxy have ever managed to kill a Fett before. You must be quite a warrior."
Anakin said nothing. No trace of his earlier pride in killing the Fett remained. He had done what he had to do, that was all.
The bounty hunter continued, "You know, of course, that you will pay for her death with your life. But for the sake of my cousin, I'll give you an honor no others deserve. I will kill you in a fair fight. No weapons, no armor, and no Force tricks. Just hand to hand combat."
"And why would I want to do that? I could just shoot you now."
"Yes, but your friends would all be dead before I hit the ground, as would you. But I'll offer you an incentive. If you fight with me fair and square, we'll let one of your friends go free, whichever one you choose. You realize, of course, that this means we will not fulfill our commission with our employer. But family honor is more important."
Anakin hesitated. "And if I win, we all go free."
"No. This isn't a bargain. It's a guarantee. Let me assure you, you won't win. And even if you do, you and two of the others will die at the hands of my cousins here. But if you fight fair, regardless of the outcome one of your friends will go free."
What kind of a deal was that? It was no deal at all. He could shoot the hunter now, but the others would be killed. Maybe if he fought the man and killed him it would surprise the others enough that he might somehow overcome them, but he doubted it. He had no concrete guarantee, and yet the Fett's promise rang in the Force with crystalline truth. They really would let one of them go free. It was the only chance any of them had. Anakin would have to go along with it. But he would have to choose which one.
He lowered his rifle and turned back to the others, his eyes pleading with them, but whether for guidance or understanding, he was unsure. The three of them returned his gaze with total trust. They knew the situation was untenable, and they understood he had no choice. How could he possibly pick among them? Every fiber of his being cried out to save Padme, but how could he condemn Jar Jar and Bail to death? He didn't want any of them to die. It wasn't fair.
Bail took Padme's hand and nodded at Anakin. "It's all right, Anakin," he encouraged softly. "You do what you have to do." Jar Jar took Padme's other hand and smiled warmly at Anakin. Padme's face was still, resolved, but her eyes shone as beautiful as always, giving him courage. /You'll always be my angel,/ he thought.
Slowly he turned around to face the Fett. "All right," he conceded. "But I want to live long enough to see you keep your promise."
"Agreed," the Fett said. "Which one do you want as your guarantee?"
Anakin shuddered and almost balked. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached out to the Force to find his calm center. There would be no tricks, but even without the Force he would fight like a Jedi. He was filled with a sense, if not of peace, then of resolution. He opened his eyes again and approached the Fett, whispering the name into his ear. He didn't want anyone else to know until the time came.
He stepped back, handing his rifle back to the Phindian, whose hands shook as she took it from him. The Fett stripped off his armor and divested himself of his weaponry while the crowd stepped back, making room for the fight. The last thing the Fett removed was his helmet. He was about Obi- Wan's age, with close-cropped black hair, and a square jaw. He was a big man, much bigger than Anakin, and well muscled. Anakin realized he might very well lose the fight, but that didn't matter. He accepted his fate.
The crowd backed up, creating a much larger space in which Anakin and the Fett could fight. One of the other Fetts led Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail to the side, while the other two Fetts took up strategic positions around the circle. Anakin hoped that they only wanted to keep an eye on the fight and weren't planning to double-cross him and attack. But he could only deal with one problem at a time.
He and the Fett circled each other, sizing each other up, each waiting for the other to make the first move. /Knowledge and defense,/ Anakin repeated to himself. /Never attack./ He knew perfectly well that anger was his weakness. He could not afford to let it rule him this time. He would wait as long as it took.
The Fett, however, grew tired of waiting. He darted in quickly, his fists swinging towards Anakin's head. But it was a feint. At the last instant, his other fist came up low to catch him in the stomach. But Anakin saw the blow coming. He blocked it with his forearm and backed away.
The Fett was impressed. It showed in his eyes, but only for an instant before he again moved in with another feint combination. Anakin once more blocked the blow, but this time the Fett did not let him get away. He pursued Anakin with a flurry of punches. Anakin blocked them all, but was being pushed back toward the crowd. He leaped high, somersaulting over the Fett's head to land in the clearing. The Fett spun, smiling in satisfaction before once again pressing the attack, again forcing Anakin backward. Anakin gave way, then abruptly planted his feet and aimed a solid blow to the Fett's throat. His timing was perfect, and the blow should have landed, but remarkably it did not. At the last instant, the Fett blocked Anakin's punch and ducked low, taking advantage of Anakin's moment of surprise to swing his leg out and dump Anakin onto his back. The Fett jumped on top of him, raining blows upon him. Anakin blocked them, but now he was pinned to the ground. He grabbed the Fett's wrists, but the bounty hunter used his grasp against him to pull him up and butt his forehead against Anakin.
It felt like a steel plate had slammed into his skull. Dazed from the blow, Anakin could not resist when the Fett released one of his wrists and smashed the heel of his hand into Anakin's nose, breaking it. The pain spiked straight into Anakin's brain, but he let the pain sharpen his focus. The Fett hesitated, complacent at having scored two hits against the Jedi. Anakin pulled down on the arm he still held while landing a blow on the side of the Fett's head with his free fist. He twisted the Fett off him, rolling over and following through with a kick to the man's side. Anakin flipped up onto his feet and rushed the Fett before the man could get up, but astonishingly the Fett broke free, kicking Anakin in the chin as he spun out from under him.
Anakin reeled, shaking his head clear. He had sparred many times at the Temple, and the Fett was easily as fast and powerful as any Jedi. He had sorely underestimated his opponent. He had to fight as if the Fett really was a Jedi. More than that, he had to fight as if he were sparring with one of the masters, someone who he knew would beat him, but from whom he could also learn.
The Fett charged him again, aiming another blow at his nose, but Anakin ducked under his arm and punched the Fett in the same spot he'd kicked him before. The Fett winced but did not waver in his attack. They both fought furiously, Anakin ignoring the blows which the Fett got through his defenses, waiting, watching for every opening the Fett gave him, and then landing a solid punch of his own, strong and true. Slowly the Fett began to tire, but he was wearing Anakin down as well, and Anakin doubted he would outlast the bounty hunter. The Fett's punches were weakening while Anakin's remained strong, but the Fett landed more of them.
They scuffled closely, Anakin trying to keep in a close enough range to reduce the impact of the Fett's blows, but he was growing weary, and he failed to notice the Fett shifting his weight. The Fett slammed his shoulder into Anakin's broken nose. Pain exploded through his entire body, and his legs collapsed beneath him. Weakly he threw his arms up to shield his face. The Fett drove his heel into Anakin's stomach, crushing the breath from his lungs. This was it. Anakin could no longer attack, and he could barely defend himself. As the final blows fell, he heard a loud whining in his ears that faded quickly into a buzz. A bright light flashed in front of his eyes, and he lowered his arms, surrendering to it. He was dead.
So why did his nose still hurt?
Confused, he opened his eyes just in time to see the Fett's headless body toppling sideways. Behind him stood Bo-Neda, her white lightsaber shining. She glanced to the side, but Anakin couldn't see what she was looking at. He still didn't understand what had happened or what she was doing there. Then she deactivated her saber and knelt over him. Before she could say anything, Padme's face suddenly appeared beside her, followed by Bail and Jar Jar, all of them looking desperately worried.
"Ani, are you all right?" Padme asked, breathless with fear.
Dazed, all he could say was, "What the f*** happened?" Obi-Wan didn't approve of swearing. In fact, he could feel his master beating him on the nose with his lightsaber hilt.
Another face swam into his vision, one of the Masters. "Oh, sh**." Now he was really in trouble. But she only smiled at him.
"Lie still, Anakin," she said as she cupped her hand over his nose. He felt a warm tingling sensation all through his sinuses, and the pain ebbed away. It still hurt, but now he could think clearly.
He was pulled up into a sitting position, and six voices began talking at once. Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail were explaining why Anakin had been fighting bare-handed with the bounty hunter and why Obi-Wan wasn't with them, and the three Jedi were explaining how they had heard the signal meant for the hunters, and how they had tracked their location and snuck up unseen on the crowd while everyone's attention had been focused on the fight.
As the six of them babbled on, Anakin glanced around the room. The four bounty hunters lay dead, and the crowd had disappeared. They probably vanished into the underground as soon as the Jedi appeared. He spied his lightsaber lying on the ground several meters away. The Phindian had left it for him. He reached out his hand and called the weapon to him. The saber was blackened where it had shorted out, but he would be able to fix it.
"We have to go for Obi-Wan," Anakin said, cutting through the cacophany of voices.
Adi glanced at Bant. "You take Bo-Neda and the others up in the speeder to the traffic lanes where they can hail an airtaxi. Bo-Neda will escort them back safely. Then you come back with the speeder, and we'll go find Obi- Wan."
Bant nodded, and she and Bo-Neda stood up. Bail rested his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You were right. We'll sleep in our own beds tonight, and Obi-Wan will be safe." He gave Anakin's shoulder a squeeze.
Jar Jar shook his hand, gushing, "Yousa saved my again. Yousa one bombad Jedi."
Padme only smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "We'll see you soon, Ani. Now go get Obi-Wan."
The three of them stood and climbed gratefully into the speeder. Within moments they were gone.
Anakin stared after them for a moment, still trying to get his bearings after the fight and all that he had come so close to losing. He glanced around him at the empty room again, then looked at Master Adi. "What will happen to these people?" She just looked at him, and he continued, "They were counting on the reward money to get them out of here. What will happen to them now?"
Adi frowned slightly. "They captured you and would have turned you over to the bounty hunters. Are you suggesting we should reward them for that?"
"These people had no choice," Anakin persisted. "Can we really blame them for taking the only chance that was offered to them?"
Master Adi pursed her lips, studying Anakin for a long time. At last she relented, "I'll look into it. I can't make any guarantees, but no one should have to live down here like this."
Anakin nodded in gratitude, then fell silent. He felt awkward around the other Masters, as if they always disapproved of him. They did not speak again until Bant returned with the speeder. Master Adi and Anakin climbed in, and Anakin led the way back to the building where Obi-Wan was hiding.
They were able to take the speeder part of the way into the building, but eventually the doors became too narrow, and they had to get out and walk. Despite his headache, Anakin ran on ahead, leading them deeper and deeper into the building. He could not sense Obi-Wan at all. Surely he would have felt it if his master had died. He found the room where they had camped that night and began shouting Obi-Wan's name, but there was no reply.
Desperately he raced down the hall, searching for the little room in which they had hidden him, but Anakin's fear clouded his memory, and he couldn't remember which was the right room. He peered into each doorway, but he found no one, and his calls elicited no response. Panic engulfed him. The bounty hunters may have found Obi-Wan after all, or some predator might have discovered him and dragged him off for a meal.
Bant and Master Adi caught up with him. "I don't know where he is!" he cried.
Bant laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Concentrate, Anakin," she instructed. "You do know."
"But I can't feel him! Can you?"
Her silver eyes dimmed. "No, but it probably just means he's unconscious. Rely on your memory to tell you where he is. Close your eyes, now, and focus."
Anakin closed his eyes, struggling to rise above his fear, running through the discipline for memory recall. "We walked down this hall," he said, turning and beginning to walk, eyes still closed. "We turned at this corner, and ...." He opened his eyes and dashed down the corridor, stopping in front of the right door. In the dim light he could see the counter, but he saw no sign of Obi-Wan, nor could he feel his presence. "Master?" he whispered brokenly as he moved behind the counter, afraid of what he might find.
Obi-Wan lay on the floor, still as death. Anakin's cloak had been flung aside, and he could see the blood staining Obi-Wan's chest. His master's face was pale. Anakin knelt beside him, carefully gathering Obi-Wan into his arms. "Master, please," he begged. "Please, wake-up. Please be all right. I came back. I said I would. I'm here now. Please, Master."
Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered. After a moment his unfocused gaze settled on Anakin. His lips twitched in a weak smile. "I've been expecting you," he sighed.
Anakin clutched Obi-Wan to him, and for the first time since he had left Tatooine, he cried.
*****************************
All right, give me your vote: Who do you think Anakin should have picked to save and why? Sorry, this isn't exactly a "choose your own adventure" story. I already know who he picks, and I'm not changing it, but I want to know who YOU would vote for!
Author: Jedi Rita
Rated: PG-13
Note: Once again I shamelessly stole from "Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter" with the electro-net. And the Phindian is the same species as Paxxi and Guerra from the supremely excellent Jedi Apprentice series. If you haven't read those books, you are missing the best pro-fic of the Star Wars universe!
Chapter Twelve
When Anakin next woke, he did not know if he had dreamed at all. He felt exhausted, drained. His sleep had not been restful, but at least he didn't remember his dreams. He lay curled up next to Padme. Asleep, she was even more beautiful. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't dare. He rose quietly so as not to disturb her, and returned to the room where Jar Jar and Bail lay sleeping, to retrieve the water bottles. He didn't have to go far to find the water source he'd identified the day before. It was a shallow pool. Not very clean, but the water at the surface was fairly clear, and the decontamination tablets took care of any biohazards. Anakin drank deeply of the bitter water, then refilled the bottle. He had one more errand before returning to the others. During his wandering the night before he had come across a pile of debris. He hoped to find something the Prince could use as a walking stick to help take the pressure off his injured knee.
He soon found the trash pile and scrounged around for a suitable stick or strut of some kind. Why hadn't he thought to look for a walking stick for Bail before? Why had he made the journey so hard for the Prince? But he knew why. He hadn't cared. Anakin liked the idea of being a dashing hero, of rushing in to save the helpless and defeat evildoers. He had been so enamored of this romantic vision of himself that he had failed to recognize that real life was different. Real life was about trudging through long, dark corridors, about scrounging for food and water, about calming fears and cooling tempers. Real life was about accepting people's shortcomings and helping them to move beyond their limits. Real life meant that even dashing heroes had weaknesses.
Anakin had not acquitted himself very well on this mission. Yes, he'd killed some bounty hunters, but he had failed the people who really needed him, first by not attending to their needs, and then by passing his frustration onto them for the mistakes he had made. But this mission wasn't about Anakin Skywalker being a hero. It was about saving people's lives. He had made mistakes, but fortunately everyone was still alive, including Obi- Wan, to the best of his knowledge. From now on he must set aside even his own self-doubt and do everything he could to make sure they all stayed alive. He must rise above himself. He must live for the others.
He found a suitable walking stick and headed back to their camp, feeling older. Maybe not wiser, certainly not happier, but more experienced, hardened, and hopefully more capable of fulfilling his duty. No more rash promises about being a model padawan. He would simply do what he had to do.
When he returned, he found the others rousing from sleep. He passed around the water bottles and handed Bail the stick, saying, "I thought this would help you walk better. How does your knee feel?"
Bail flexed his right leg tentatively. It didn't bend very far. Wincing, he said, "It's stiff, but I'll survive. Thank you for the walking stick. It will definitely help."
Anakin nodded. "Today, you set the pace, and the rest of us will keep up. We'll be out of here soon enough."
They breakfasted on cold rat, and before long were once more on their way. They walked in silence, at a slow but steady pace. They were all more than ready to leave the ground level, and they focused all their energy and attention on that task, leaving no room for chit chat or batter.
As they progressed, they saw more and more signs of recent habitation. Someone had lived here not long ago, maybe still lived there. No one was sure if this was good news or bad news. Anakin kept his hand close to his lightsaber hilt, watchful and alert.
They came to a small atrium that had several corridors branching off it. Padme started to enter the atrium, heading toward the corridor opposite them, but Anakin stopped her. She looked at him nervously. "What is it?"
He only shook his head. "Something's not good, but I don't know where or what it is." Anakin's Force-sense was amazingly perceptive, but he could have a hard time focusing it if he wasn't personally connected in some way.
The others waited in anxious silence as Anakin concentrated. Jar Jar, though frightened, was too tired to whimper. Bail reluctantly prompted, "So, what do we do?"
Anakin apprehensively peered down the corridors one by one, stretching out with his senses but picking up on no malicious intent, sentient or otherwise. "I don't know," he admitted.
Padme looked at Jar Jar. "Do you hear anything?" The Gungan wagged his head no. She suggested, "Maybe we should go back the way we came and find another route."
Anakin considered, then slowly shook his head. "It would take too long. We might as well go on. We can face whatever it is." He straightened his shoulders, projecting a confidence he didn't actually feel, and led the group into the atrium.
They were half way across the clearing when Anakin's danger sense snapped into focus. "It's above us!" he screamed, igniting his blade. "Run!"
But it was too late. They had unwittingly tripped a sensor, and an electro- net fell upon them from where it had been concealed on the ceiling. Anakin's saber sparked violently when it came into contact with the net. An excruciating pain shot through his arm and into his body, and he blacked out.
*****
An ear-splitting alarm went off, jolting Padme back into consciousness, her head aching. At least this time she didn't feel like throwing up. She only wished her skull would split open so the rampaging kaadu stomping around in her brain could get out. She carefully pushed herself up into a sitting position. The other three still lay unconscious. They were in a cage, a large cell made up of bars as big as her forearm.
The cage was in the center of another large, warehouse-like room. Like the one they had encountered before, several levels above had been knocked out to form a high ceiling. Walls had been removed to create a large room, and sections of the outer wall had been cut through on the upper levels to admit light. But unlike the other room, this one was inhabited. It was a kind of squatters' camp. Makeshift tents and shelters had been constructed around the edges of the room. People sat around campsites or worked on broken pieces of machinery. No one was looking in her direction. In fact, they seem to avoid looking at the prisoners.
She crawled over to Anakin's side and gently shook him awake. He roused instantly, then uttered a low moan, clutching his right arm. Concerned, Padme asked, "Are you all right?"
He grimaced. "Yeah. That net shorted out my saber and gave my arm a nasty shock, but I'll be okay." He cautiously flexed his arm while looking around and taking in their situation as Padme had done. While she woke Bail and Jar Jar, Anakin noticed that their weapons were gone, including his lightsaber.
Bail clutched his head. At least the headache made him forget about his knee. He looked out at the room's inhabitants. "Any idea who these people are?"
Padme shook her head. "They are ignoring us."
Bail looked at Anakin, almost as if seeking the boy's permission. "They don't look like bounty hunters," he observed. "They look homeless. I suggest we try to talk with them and find out what they want with us."
Anakin nodded, and Bail gingerly got to his feet, followed by the others. He tried to catch someone's eye, but no one looked at them. "Excuse me," he called out.
A small group that had been sitting around a makeshift table rose and approached the cage, pointing rifles at them, *their* rifles, the ones they'd taken from the bounty hunters, including Padme's little blaster, and --
"My lightsaber!" Anakin exclaimed in a low voice.
The weapon hung from the belt of a tough looking, middle-aged Phindian. "It doesn't work anymore," she informed him. "The electro-net seems to have broken it. Too bad. I've always wanted to see a lightsaber in action." She shrugged. "I'd give it back to you, but who knows? You might be able to fix it, and we can't have that."
"Who are you?" Bail asked.
The Phindian sneered at him. "We're no one to you, Senator."
So their captors knew who they were. Not a good sign.
The leader continued, spreading her long arms wide to indicate the community in the room. "We are the undocumented, the disappeared, the outcasts. Your Republic has no place for us, so we live down here where no one bothers us and we don't bother no-body."
Bail mildly observed, "Except us. You have obviously captured us."
The Phindian laughed. "True enough! Somebody visited us and told us you might be coming along. We promised we'd keep an eye out for you, and you obligingly walked into one of our security nets."
"Who wants us?" Bail asked, hoping against hope that it might be the Jedi or Security Forces.
"They didn't say who they were," the Phindian admitted, "but they looked really nasty, and they promised to reward us well. They are going to supply us with new IDs so we can all get out of here."
The bounty hunters would have such contacts. The prisoners' hearts sank. Bail offered, "If you know who we are, then you'll realize that we can reward you as well. We can pay you more than the bounty hunters are offering."
One of the others, a Gotal, nudged the Phindian and grumbled, "See, I told you."
Trying to hide her dismay, the Phindian replied, "What would you have me do? Go up against bounty hunters?"
"We could have caught them first and then made a decision. The bounty hunters would never need to know."
"You don't think they would have found out and come back for revenge?" the Phindian angrily protested.
"It's not too late," Bail offered. "We can still talk, and we'll be able to offer you protection against the hunters."
"And what help would you really offer us?" the Phindian sneered. "You only care about your rich and powerful friends. People like us don't matter to you."
"You're wrong," Bail began, but she cut him off.
"You think we're all criminals, don't you? I was once. I got caught and served my time. But when I got out, I couldn't find a job because no one would hire me when they saw I had a record." She gestured to her comrades. "Some of these have the same story, but others just got down on their luck, got fired and lost their homes. Do they deserve this? What do we owe you that we should stick our necks out for you? You've done precious little for us, Senator." She spat out the title like a curse.
Bail remained silent. The stories she told him were not unfamiliar to him, but there was not much he could do. Every system had cracks through which innocent people fell. True, lately the cracks had gotten wider, but he had his hands full with a Senate that seemed increasingly unable to do anything effective. Or so he had told himself. He found he could not in all good conscious defend himself in front of these people, but to his surprise, Anakin defended him instead.
The boy stepped up to the bars, fixing the Phinidian in his gaze. "Senator Organa is the best friend you've got. He's always trying to help people."
The Phindian scoffed, "He makes the bounty hunters look like ministering angels. Anyway, there's no point trying to convince us to help you. We already sounded the signal for them. They'll be on their way by now."
So that's what the alarm that had woken Padme was, a signal to the bounty hunters.
Anakin knew it was up to him down. He emptied his mind of all fear, anxiety, or thought, opening himself fully to the Force. It flowed through him, infusing his body and mind with its warmth and pure energy. There was no hint of the beast now. It was as if it had never existed. Anakin focused on the cage's lock and it fell open, the door swinging out. Their captors raised their rifles at him as he stepped out of the cage. Without taking his eyes off the guns, he turned his head slightly toward his friends. "Follow me," he said. "It's all right." He walked resolutely on toward their captors.
"Shoot him!" the Phindian yelled. She raised her rifle and fired at him.
Anakin raised his hand and deflected the bolt harmlessly up into the ceiling, as if swatting away a fly.
Stunned, the Phindian stepped back. The others all lowered their guns in shock. Anakin kept walking forward, the others following him, amazed at what he had done, but still fearful.
When she realized the others were going to let him go, the Phindian raised her rifle at him once more. "You are not getting away!" she growled. "Shoot him, or the bounty hunters will shoot us!" Again she fired upon him, and several of the others did as well. Anakin raised both hands and deflected the shots up, calling them to him and sending them toward the ceiling, his mind calm and clear. His palms tingled, but they were not hurt. He gestured toward the Phindian and the rifle flew out of her grasp and into his. He pointed the gun at her as the others stopped firing at him.
"We are leaving now, and that's final."
The crowd faltered, and for a moment the Phindian looked like she would give in, too. Then her eyes hardened with resolve. "No. We are civilians. You won't harm us." Raising her voice, she called out to the people gathered around. "Lower your weapons and surround them. We can't let them get away."
The crowd followed her instructions, forming a tight circle around him, three beings deep. They were afraid, but Anakin could see the determination in their eyes. Their only hope of escaping their exile was to turn their captives over to the bounty hunters, and they would risk anything for that hope.
Anakin stared down the sights of the rifle toward the Phindian, his finger on the trigger, his certainty wavering. Surely if he shot her it could be called self-defense. But she was right. These people were all innocent. They had fallen through the cracks of the Republic, outcasts with no rights, as he had once been. Was it so wrong of them to do whatever they could for their freedom? And would he truly be justified in firing upon them?
He lowered the muzzle of his rifle and looked fully into the Phindian's eyes. "Let us go," he said. It was no mind trick. It was simply a request from one outcast to another.
The Phindian met his gaze with genuine remorse. "I'm sorry, kid. We can't do that."
A low rumble filled the air, and four speeder bikes flew through the knocked out portion of the wall. They fanned out immediately, and Anakin knew there was no way he could get them all. He tracked one of them with his rifle, but did not fire. The four bikes settled in the midst of the crowd, surrounding Anakin and the others. They all wore the trademark helmets of the Fetts. Anakin tightened his grip on the rifle and pointed the weapon at the man nearest to him.
The bounty hunter raised both hands and slowly dismounted, Anakin watching him warily. The Fett growled, "You, Jedi. Are you the one who killed my cousin?"
Anakin did not lower his gun. "Yes."
"Not many people in this galaxy have ever managed to kill a Fett before. You must be quite a warrior."
Anakin said nothing. No trace of his earlier pride in killing the Fett remained. He had done what he had to do, that was all.
The bounty hunter continued, "You know, of course, that you will pay for her death with your life. But for the sake of my cousin, I'll give you an honor no others deserve. I will kill you in a fair fight. No weapons, no armor, and no Force tricks. Just hand to hand combat."
"And why would I want to do that? I could just shoot you now."
"Yes, but your friends would all be dead before I hit the ground, as would you. But I'll offer you an incentive. If you fight with me fair and square, we'll let one of your friends go free, whichever one you choose. You realize, of course, that this means we will not fulfill our commission with our employer. But family honor is more important."
Anakin hesitated. "And if I win, we all go free."
"No. This isn't a bargain. It's a guarantee. Let me assure you, you won't win. And even if you do, you and two of the others will die at the hands of my cousins here. But if you fight fair, regardless of the outcome one of your friends will go free."
What kind of a deal was that? It was no deal at all. He could shoot the hunter now, but the others would be killed. Maybe if he fought the man and killed him it would surprise the others enough that he might somehow overcome them, but he doubted it. He had no concrete guarantee, and yet the Fett's promise rang in the Force with crystalline truth. They really would let one of them go free. It was the only chance any of them had. Anakin would have to go along with it. But he would have to choose which one.
He lowered his rifle and turned back to the others, his eyes pleading with them, but whether for guidance or understanding, he was unsure. The three of them returned his gaze with total trust. They knew the situation was untenable, and they understood he had no choice. How could he possibly pick among them? Every fiber of his being cried out to save Padme, but how could he condemn Jar Jar and Bail to death? He didn't want any of them to die. It wasn't fair.
Bail took Padme's hand and nodded at Anakin. "It's all right, Anakin," he encouraged softly. "You do what you have to do." Jar Jar took Padme's other hand and smiled warmly at Anakin. Padme's face was still, resolved, but her eyes shone as beautiful as always, giving him courage. /You'll always be my angel,/ he thought.
Slowly he turned around to face the Fett. "All right," he conceded. "But I want to live long enough to see you keep your promise."
"Agreed," the Fett said. "Which one do you want as your guarantee?"
Anakin shuddered and almost balked. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached out to the Force to find his calm center. There would be no tricks, but even without the Force he would fight like a Jedi. He was filled with a sense, if not of peace, then of resolution. He opened his eyes again and approached the Fett, whispering the name into his ear. He didn't want anyone else to know until the time came.
He stepped back, handing his rifle back to the Phindian, whose hands shook as she took it from him. The Fett stripped off his armor and divested himself of his weaponry while the crowd stepped back, making room for the fight. The last thing the Fett removed was his helmet. He was about Obi- Wan's age, with close-cropped black hair, and a square jaw. He was a big man, much bigger than Anakin, and well muscled. Anakin realized he might very well lose the fight, but that didn't matter. He accepted his fate.
The crowd backed up, creating a much larger space in which Anakin and the Fett could fight. One of the other Fetts led Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail to the side, while the other two Fetts took up strategic positions around the circle. Anakin hoped that they only wanted to keep an eye on the fight and weren't planning to double-cross him and attack. But he could only deal with one problem at a time.
He and the Fett circled each other, sizing each other up, each waiting for the other to make the first move. /Knowledge and defense,/ Anakin repeated to himself. /Never attack./ He knew perfectly well that anger was his weakness. He could not afford to let it rule him this time. He would wait as long as it took.
The Fett, however, grew tired of waiting. He darted in quickly, his fists swinging towards Anakin's head. But it was a feint. At the last instant, his other fist came up low to catch him in the stomach. But Anakin saw the blow coming. He blocked it with his forearm and backed away.
The Fett was impressed. It showed in his eyes, but only for an instant before he again moved in with another feint combination. Anakin once more blocked the blow, but this time the Fett did not let him get away. He pursued Anakin with a flurry of punches. Anakin blocked them all, but was being pushed back toward the crowd. He leaped high, somersaulting over the Fett's head to land in the clearing. The Fett spun, smiling in satisfaction before once again pressing the attack, again forcing Anakin backward. Anakin gave way, then abruptly planted his feet and aimed a solid blow to the Fett's throat. His timing was perfect, and the blow should have landed, but remarkably it did not. At the last instant, the Fett blocked Anakin's punch and ducked low, taking advantage of Anakin's moment of surprise to swing his leg out and dump Anakin onto his back. The Fett jumped on top of him, raining blows upon him. Anakin blocked them, but now he was pinned to the ground. He grabbed the Fett's wrists, but the bounty hunter used his grasp against him to pull him up and butt his forehead against Anakin.
It felt like a steel plate had slammed into his skull. Dazed from the blow, Anakin could not resist when the Fett released one of his wrists and smashed the heel of his hand into Anakin's nose, breaking it. The pain spiked straight into Anakin's brain, but he let the pain sharpen his focus. The Fett hesitated, complacent at having scored two hits against the Jedi. Anakin pulled down on the arm he still held while landing a blow on the side of the Fett's head with his free fist. He twisted the Fett off him, rolling over and following through with a kick to the man's side. Anakin flipped up onto his feet and rushed the Fett before the man could get up, but astonishingly the Fett broke free, kicking Anakin in the chin as he spun out from under him.
Anakin reeled, shaking his head clear. He had sparred many times at the Temple, and the Fett was easily as fast and powerful as any Jedi. He had sorely underestimated his opponent. He had to fight as if the Fett really was a Jedi. More than that, he had to fight as if he were sparring with one of the masters, someone who he knew would beat him, but from whom he could also learn.
The Fett charged him again, aiming another blow at his nose, but Anakin ducked under his arm and punched the Fett in the same spot he'd kicked him before. The Fett winced but did not waver in his attack. They both fought furiously, Anakin ignoring the blows which the Fett got through his defenses, waiting, watching for every opening the Fett gave him, and then landing a solid punch of his own, strong and true. Slowly the Fett began to tire, but he was wearing Anakin down as well, and Anakin doubted he would outlast the bounty hunter. The Fett's punches were weakening while Anakin's remained strong, but the Fett landed more of them.
They scuffled closely, Anakin trying to keep in a close enough range to reduce the impact of the Fett's blows, but he was growing weary, and he failed to notice the Fett shifting his weight. The Fett slammed his shoulder into Anakin's broken nose. Pain exploded through his entire body, and his legs collapsed beneath him. Weakly he threw his arms up to shield his face. The Fett drove his heel into Anakin's stomach, crushing the breath from his lungs. This was it. Anakin could no longer attack, and he could barely defend himself. As the final blows fell, he heard a loud whining in his ears that faded quickly into a buzz. A bright light flashed in front of his eyes, and he lowered his arms, surrendering to it. He was dead.
So why did his nose still hurt?
Confused, he opened his eyes just in time to see the Fett's headless body toppling sideways. Behind him stood Bo-Neda, her white lightsaber shining. She glanced to the side, but Anakin couldn't see what she was looking at. He still didn't understand what had happened or what she was doing there. Then she deactivated her saber and knelt over him. Before she could say anything, Padme's face suddenly appeared beside her, followed by Bail and Jar Jar, all of them looking desperately worried.
"Ani, are you all right?" Padme asked, breathless with fear.
Dazed, all he could say was, "What the f*** happened?" Obi-Wan didn't approve of swearing. In fact, he could feel his master beating him on the nose with his lightsaber hilt.
Another face swam into his vision, one of the Masters. "Oh, sh**." Now he was really in trouble. But she only smiled at him.
"Lie still, Anakin," she said as she cupped her hand over his nose. He felt a warm tingling sensation all through his sinuses, and the pain ebbed away. It still hurt, but now he could think clearly.
He was pulled up into a sitting position, and six voices began talking at once. Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail were explaining why Anakin had been fighting bare-handed with the bounty hunter and why Obi-Wan wasn't with them, and the three Jedi were explaining how they had heard the signal meant for the hunters, and how they had tracked their location and snuck up unseen on the crowd while everyone's attention had been focused on the fight.
As the six of them babbled on, Anakin glanced around the room. The four bounty hunters lay dead, and the crowd had disappeared. They probably vanished into the underground as soon as the Jedi appeared. He spied his lightsaber lying on the ground several meters away. The Phindian had left it for him. He reached out his hand and called the weapon to him. The saber was blackened where it had shorted out, but he would be able to fix it.
"We have to go for Obi-Wan," Anakin said, cutting through the cacophany of voices.
Adi glanced at Bant. "You take Bo-Neda and the others up in the speeder to the traffic lanes where they can hail an airtaxi. Bo-Neda will escort them back safely. Then you come back with the speeder, and we'll go find Obi- Wan."
Bant nodded, and she and Bo-Neda stood up. Bail rested his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You were right. We'll sleep in our own beds tonight, and Obi-Wan will be safe." He gave Anakin's shoulder a squeeze.
Jar Jar shook his hand, gushing, "Yousa saved my again. Yousa one bombad Jedi."
Padme only smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "We'll see you soon, Ani. Now go get Obi-Wan."
The three of them stood and climbed gratefully into the speeder. Within moments they were gone.
Anakin stared after them for a moment, still trying to get his bearings after the fight and all that he had come so close to losing. He glanced around him at the empty room again, then looked at Master Adi. "What will happen to these people?" She just looked at him, and he continued, "They were counting on the reward money to get them out of here. What will happen to them now?"
Adi frowned slightly. "They captured you and would have turned you over to the bounty hunters. Are you suggesting we should reward them for that?"
"These people had no choice," Anakin persisted. "Can we really blame them for taking the only chance that was offered to them?"
Master Adi pursed her lips, studying Anakin for a long time. At last she relented, "I'll look into it. I can't make any guarantees, but no one should have to live down here like this."
Anakin nodded in gratitude, then fell silent. He felt awkward around the other Masters, as if they always disapproved of him. They did not speak again until Bant returned with the speeder. Master Adi and Anakin climbed in, and Anakin led the way back to the building where Obi-Wan was hiding.
They were able to take the speeder part of the way into the building, but eventually the doors became too narrow, and they had to get out and walk. Despite his headache, Anakin ran on ahead, leading them deeper and deeper into the building. He could not sense Obi-Wan at all. Surely he would have felt it if his master had died. He found the room where they had camped that night and began shouting Obi-Wan's name, but there was no reply.
Desperately he raced down the hall, searching for the little room in which they had hidden him, but Anakin's fear clouded his memory, and he couldn't remember which was the right room. He peered into each doorway, but he found no one, and his calls elicited no response. Panic engulfed him. The bounty hunters may have found Obi-Wan after all, or some predator might have discovered him and dragged him off for a meal.
Bant and Master Adi caught up with him. "I don't know where he is!" he cried.
Bant laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Concentrate, Anakin," she instructed. "You do know."
"But I can't feel him! Can you?"
Her silver eyes dimmed. "No, but it probably just means he's unconscious. Rely on your memory to tell you where he is. Close your eyes, now, and focus."
Anakin closed his eyes, struggling to rise above his fear, running through the discipline for memory recall. "We walked down this hall," he said, turning and beginning to walk, eyes still closed. "We turned at this corner, and ...." He opened his eyes and dashed down the corridor, stopping in front of the right door. In the dim light he could see the counter, but he saw no sign of Obi-Wan, nor could he feel his presence. "Master?" he whispered brokenly as he moved behind the counter, afraid of what he might find.
Obi-Wan lay on the floor, still as death. Anakin's cloak had been flung aside, and he could see the blood staining Obi-Wan's chest. His master's face was pale. Anakin knelt beside him, carefully gathering Obi-Wan into his arms. "Master, please," he begged. "Please, wake-up. Please be all right. I came back. I said I would. I'm here now. Please, Master."
Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered. After a moment his unfocused gaze settled on Anakin. His lips twitched in a weak smile. "I've been expecting you," he sighed.
Anakin clutched Obi-Wan to him, and for the first time since he had left Tatooine, he cried.
*****************************
All right, give me your vote: Who do you think Anakin should have picked to save and why? Sorry, this isn't exactly a "choose your own adventure" story. I already know who he picks, and I'm not changing it, but I want to know who YOU would vote for!