Facets of the Same Crystal
II - A Flash of Light in the Sky
I woke up, knowing that a new story had begun.
It all began on Domus Prime, with a meeting between two people, where a service was asked and paid for. I could go into the specifics, but that isn't really necessary or important, because it was only after I left Domus Prime that things started to get interesting.
Really, this 'adventure' began on Naboo, down in Otoh Gunga, the primary underwater city of the Gungan race. That was where I realised just how important my mission was, and why I had to complete it at all costs. But I'm getting ahead of myself again.
It was surprisingly easy to get into Otoh Gunga, for some reason. Despite the invasion of the Trade Federation security there remained rather lax. So, while out for my morning swim, I decided to see if I could find the hidden city. And because of the treaty the Gungans had formed with the Naboo, no one questioned my arrival. Apparently it's a really good tourist spot these days. Someone was kind enough to show me to a place where I could stay for a couple of nights, and I was free to roam through much of the city. They never even asked to check my bags.
So anyway, there I was, in my own little bubble room in the little bubble hotel, and everyone around me was happy and chipper. In fact, it was more than a little sickening to watch, and I was so glad that no one asked me to participate. I would have gutted them on the spot, and that would have seriously blown my cover.
I locked myself in my room that night, and organised my plans for the next day. I knew then that this was going to be a piece of cake.
The next day, the lights in the bubble domes came on as they always do, as the beginning of the day was heralded by the artificial sunrise waking up the inhabitants of the city. Normally I'm not a morning person, but seeing as this was a business trip, I thought it best to get out of bed around that time. Besides, I didn't want to miss the fireworks.
For those of you who don't know, the room known to the Gungans as the High Tower Boardroom, an unusual name for a spherical bubble, is a large transparent room at the heart of Otoh Gunga. Outside one can see fish glowing with reflected light from the city, pinpricks of starlight against a night sky. The main focal point of the room is the large circular bench when the Gungan official council meet, and directly in front of the entrance to the Boardroom is the raised platform where the leader of the Gungans sits and conducts meetings. For an event like this day's gathering, extra seating was arranged for an audience, since everyone in the city seemed to want to watch what was going on.
I only hoped that they would get their wish and the show would definitely be worth the effort. After all, it's not every day that a hero of your country comes visiting. Anniversaries are like that. Big parties and celebrations and lots of people drinking more than is really good for them. Actually, most of the party would take place on the surface of the planet, where the humans and others were planning a big event about which I had absolutely no interest whatsoever.
The Gungan occupying that highest seat was a squat fellow, as far removed from the slender size of the object of my attention as possible. As he spoke, Boss Nass, the nominal leader of the Gungans sprayed spittle across the room. While waiting I found myself wondering if this was the reason for the large empty space before him.
Not that it mattered, I was really only present as an observer, and it wasn't Boss Nass I was supposed to be observing. I was there to see if what I had been told was true, not that I doubted my source, I just think that there are some things that had to be seen to be believed.
As I waited, I found myself sighing, simply because this really was a rather boring event. The powers that be were chatting about something relatively insignificant, and the Gungans in the audience were all being incredibly polite.
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the Gungan accents? They all speak Basic, but they have such irritating accents that you have to ask one to repeat a statement several times before you can make any sense of it. Honestly, it would be easier on all involved if they simply spoke in some language of their own, that way we could all cart around protocol droids and have them acting as translators. Of course, most droids wouldn't much like the swim down to the city, but I am sure transportation could be arranged if one was truly desperate enough. And after a day and a night in Otoh Gunga, believe me I was desperate.
But I am a very patient person, despite what some have said of me.
A lull fell over the Tower Boardroom as General Jar Jar Binks of the Gungans sauntered in past the guards on the doors, who all dutifully saluted him. He moved with a strange gait, which seemed to suggest that his limbs were slightly out of proportion with the rest of his body. His floppy ears slapped against his shoulders with an irritating squelching sound which suggested that he'd just gotten back from one of his 'brisken' morning breakfasts. It makes me shudder to remember that noise.
As Jar Jar moved around the room, I realised that for an amphibian, Jar Jar's feet seemed terribly wrong. They weren't webbed at all, and surely webbed feet would have made swimming that much easier. There was something terribly wrong about the way the Gungans had evolved, something unnatural. It was probably this fault that had made it so that they spoke with such lisps and shortened speech. Either that or they were simply as stupid as I had been lead to believe.
Jar Jar moved to stand before the assembly, and he spoke with much deference, but also the confidence of one who knew how valuable he was to those to whom he spoke. I had heard much of this one, but his arrogance must have been a new acquisition, for none had mentioned it. I knew of the part he had played in stopping the invasion of the Trade Federation, and understood that whilst the rank of General had been undeserved, the honour of ambassador to the Naboo had been one suited to this being. He had been the one to bring the two races close enough to negotiate a truce, it was possible that he was an appropriate go-between for the Naboo and the Gungan peoples.
And yet, as I watched him speak, saw the errant movements of his limbs, as though he was flailing, but still almost steady on his feet, I began to understand what motivated my employer. It was not purely hatred, for one could not hate completely one as pathetic as this, it was more the simple desire for the removal of a pest that constantly irritates. In small doses, one can tolerate such as he, but the constant irritation of being in his company, of having to put up with the nonsense and the constant stream of words from his oversized mouth, would be enough to drive anyone mad.
I was seated to one side, hidden at the back of the bubble room, leaning so that I was almost touching the barrier itself. I had a fair view, fair enough anyway. Without a single conscious thought, I found myself spinning a knife in the palm of my hand, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by one who was watching, even though those closest to me saw nothing. I saw him from the corner of my eye, and resolved to monitor this one, although he had not cried out upon seeing that I carried a weapon.
As Jar Jar reached the climax of his speech, he tripped and fell forward, so that the knife I had thrown sailed over his head, and disappeared through the barrier on the far side of the bubble. As everyone in the Tower Boardroom were watching the antics of their national hero no one noticed the flash of movement above him, partly because I had been manipulating things so that no one would notice. It is a small task to hide a knife, but I was more than a little surprised to realise that I had acted openly without thinking about it.
Now I realise that my irritation with the General had gotten the better of me and prompted me to rash action, and because of this I had lost my favourite knife. It had been a good knife, one that had served me well before, properly balanced and undecorated. A parting gift from a former client who had been more than satisfied with my work, so much so that he worried about anyone else stealing my services away from him. I had been unimpressed at that time, almost as much as I was then at the thought of my knife drifting away towards the bottom of the ocean.
Jar Jar gathered himself to his feet, and finished off his speech, much to the delight of all present. Afterward, I realised that I didn't even remember a word of what he had said, but it didn't really matter. A fair bit of it was simply reminding everyone of what had happened during the Battle for Naboo and talking about what the Naboo themselves were like. It wasn't important to me, so I didn't care.
When he was done, I managed to sneak my self away from the Boardroom, in a foul mood at what I had done. As I walked out, the Gungan known as Captain Tarpels smiled at me in such a manner that I found myself wondering if all the Gungans loved their General as much as they seemed to or if there were others who found him an annoyance, though only one had seen what I intended.
I only stayed one more night in Otoh Gunga, before removing myself to the surface of Naboo. I had heard it said that Jar Jar would be in Theed for the celebrations, and I had decided that there would be much to celebrate the following night.
I would have followed him, and perhaps arranged an accident on the trip, but I'd heard that he was going to travel via bongo, and there were nasty stories about those who journeyed through the planet's core. And unfortunately, that meant I would have to wait until Theed to act.
Theed is a beautiful city, all things considered. Very, antique, for want of a better word. Lots of marble and other pretty stone buildings, none more than about eight stories tall. They're all rather artsy and all, so there are lots of statues and the rest. Like to think they're sophisticated and all that, but I just don't see the point. I tend to think there are better things for governments to spend money on than arts and crafts: schools and education programs and the like. You'd think people'd learn, but anyway.
The Palace is supposedly the prettiest of all the pretty places in Theed, but most Palaces start to look the same after a while. It was once again surprising how easily I got in, I was beginning to suspect that there was something more than just gross stupidity wrong on Naboo. I jumped a fence, then used a grappling gun to make it up to one of the higher storey windows which according to my blueprints lead into a rarely-used residential room.
To improve my mood somewhat, the room was occupied. But a sprinkle of sparkle powder did the trick, the middle-aged woman went down about a second after she gasped at my appearance. I moved her into her bed, being careful to tuck her in. Usually the powder was enough to leave her sleeping until the next morning, but I really didn't want to arouse any suspicion in anyone, so I manipulated things a little and made sure that she wouldn't remember seeing me even in her dreams. The art of manipulation was also something I picked up from the Sith that time.
I wandered through the Palace for a bit, getting my bearings and setting up base in one of the unoccupied rooms. I changed my hair and clothes appropriately, getting as dressed up as I would need to be to fit in with the people downstairs. I made good use of my knowledge of electronics to borrow a line out from the throne room, and another from the great hall, so that I would know what was going on at all times. Unfortunately, nothing was happening, so in reality I sat around feeling bored as I sharpened and re-sharpened the rest of my collection of knives.
I'm not going to tell you all about my collection of weapons, how best to use them and what one can conceal under a ball gown. The answer is actually quite a lot, but it does make it more difficult to dance. Besides, I had planned this particular strike very carefully, and aside from my one moment of distraction, I had no doubts in my ability to make appropriate use of the bare minimum equipment.
Night drew closer, and the number of people gathered in the great hall started to grow to the point where my one microphone feed from the Palace security system was inadequate to keep track of everyone and thing. And indeed, I was only watching for one person, who was still in deep discussion with the Queen in the throne room. I decided that it was time I make my way into position, so I finished packing my things and walked demurely from my room.
Perhaps the most prominent feature of the great hall in Theed Palace is the staircase, designed to make the entrance of the Queen and her lackeys seem more dramatic and impressive. And indeed, the landing at the top of the stairs gives one a fantastic view of the entire room and its inhabitants, so that one can survey the scene without having to be a part of it. So it was from there that I had decided to make my entrance. Since the Queen wasn't due to arrive for another hour, I figured no one would truly object.
After pausing a moment to ensure that I was prepared as I would ever be, I walked calmly down the carpeted stairs, taking small steps as a lady ought, one hand holding up the end of my skirt as the other lightly touched the banister. I was aware almost instantly of the eyes that fell on me, the attention I was being given a ratification of the fact that my dress was as wonderful as I had believed it to be. A lilac fantasy with a silk bow at the small of my back, the long skirt twirled wonderfully as I turned around and the dress was absolutely beautiful. I only wished that I could keep it after that night, but I knew it would not be possible.
I had gone to great lengths to prepare my hair for the ball, tying the long black locks up in twists and curls and decorating them with ribbons. The style is a little hard to describe accurately, one just has to believe that it looked incredibly feminine and the hour spent tying it up was quite possibly the most girly hour of my life.
So, I made my dramatic entrance, and it was much to my surprise that I recognised one of the people who were staring at me. I had expected him to be with the Queen, but perhaps his duties and profession had called him elsewhere for the afternoon. Reaching the tiled floor of the great hall, I was promptly swept into one corner by a group of vapid young men who wanted to recite poetry to me and ensure me that no other 'pinnacle of creation' could ever capture their attention as I had. So I had no chance to speak to the man on the other side of the hall who was staring at me so intently.
If you have ever heard one young man speak to the absolute object of his desire, the joy that brightens his morning, the star that shines only for him, you've heard them all. Really. They are not the most creative of creatures, in fact, given that there is only a limited amount one can say about the weather before it gets really mundane, I would have to say that young men are among the most pathetic beings ever created. They are alright once they reach the point that they realise you have better things to do than listen to the same tired compliments, and that you can actually hold a rational discussion on philosophy, culture or the subtle art of the ninja.
Quite frankly, I was thrilled beyond belief when the Queen arrived with her entourage of handmaidens and the guest of honour and the music started. Most of my oh-so-dedicated suitors melted away to attach themselves to the available young ladies of the court and the few remaining were quite easily ignored. I sometimes think the best skill I have developed in all these years of doing what I do is the ability to endure small talk, which is one of the most irritating things in existence. If a young man wishes to woo a young woman, he should tell her that, rather than waffling on about how the weather was a little cloudy today, but that's alright because cloudy weather means it could rain and rain is good for the crops and if a girl is able to nod in all the right places she can be completely oblivious to whatever meaningless drivel he happens to be sprouting off.
Anyway, there was much dancing and courting and happy, happy young people enjoying themselves for a little while. At one point the Queen made a speech, praising Jar Jar Binks and he said a few words about how great he thought it was the be the centre of attention and I felt really ill after having to watch it all. Then the music kicked in again and most of those present were dancing quite happily. I on the other hand, was content to observe the social interactions, also taking care to mark my target. It wasn't too difficult; he was the only Gungan present.
A soft voice broke through my concentration, penetrating where none of the sounds made by my suitors had. "Would you care to dance, my lady?"
I looked up in shock, to see myself staring into the blue eyes of the Jedi Knight who had been observing me earlier. Ignoring my internal warning bells, I made myself smile as I stood. "I would be honoured, General Kenobi." My voice was a murmur, soft and demure as one would expect from a young lady honoured in such a fashion. I also made myself ignore the small sounds of protest from those who had been speaking to me.
Jedi Kenobi took my hand gently within his, leading me out into the centre of the room, before pulling me into an appropriate position and starting to move with me in time to the music. After a moment of reassuring himself that I would not run away on him, he pulled me in closer, our embrace suddenly being a little more than what was required by the dance. Despite myself I felt my heart start to race as a flash of adrenaline coursed through me. Just one dance, I reminded myself, I can't afford to be distracted this late in the game.
But it was so nice, just for a little while, to pretend that I was just like any of the other girls in the great hall, with no concern greater than what I would wear the following day and which of the many boys who courted me I would choose as lifemate. It's not often that I envy the life of normal people, but that night, dancing with the stunningly attractive Jedi who I feared saw right through me, for a moment I did wish that I was a bubble-headed blonde. But I wasn't, and so after that one amazing dance, where I was so close to Jedi Kenobi that I could almost hear this thoughts, we parted company, me suggesting that it was probably best for him to shower some of his attention on the butterflies that fluttered so desperately for it. He laughed, a soft sound, and we walked from the dance floor in opposite directions.
I did not head back to my enraptured suitors, choosing instead to sneak out through a side door and head back upstairs. I had planned this route in advance, so I knew exactly where the hidden staircase was and how to get quickly back to the unattended landing at the top of the grand staircase. And in a little alcove there, more or less in plain view, was the Sharpshooter SNP-32 sniper rifle I had left behind earlier.
I'll admit quite freely that the sniper rifle was probably overkill. A normal blaster would have served just as well, but I wanted to be sure, and sometimes when I'm nervous my aim is a little off. Not enough to miss, but enough to make the overall effect something less than the dramatic statement I wanted to make.
Still, there was no one anywhere near the top of the staircase, and from the balcony I could be as out of sight as any sniper is ever able to be. One shot would be all I had time for; one shot would be my only chance. Not surprisingly, considering my skill and training, one shot was all I needed. Jar Jar went down like a tonne of bricks, a tonne of dead bricks in fact, and I was already far from the balcony by the time he hit the ground.
The rifle I ditched on the way, no need to be caught with the evidence after all, but no one saw or stopped me, they were all too distracted by the messily dead Gungan lying in the middle of the floor of the great hall. Everyone had gathered around there, trying desperately to see, but there were too many people and I've never been especially tall, so I asked the handsome young man next to me to lift me up in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Jar Jar and those few who were grieving. Unfortunately I was still too far from the centre of the circle to see anything, and the volunteer guards were doing their best to break up the large number of people who were completely unable to bring the dead Gungan back to life.
With a sigh I was deposited back on the ground, and the young man who had been assisting with my attempt to see what was going on offered to walk me back to my rooms. I declined as politely as possible, stating that I wished to see the doctor in the medical bay for something to calm my quaking stomach and wanted no one with me in case I was ill. He tried to extract some promise to meet me the following evening, but I really wasn't listening.
Sedately, I walked back towards my rooms at the top of the Palace, decided that it was probably safest for me to stay the night before sneaking out in the morning. However, as I walked down one of the darkened corridors, a shadow suddenly stepped out in front of me. I started, disgusted with myself for doing so.
"General Kenobi, you gave me quite a shock", I said lightly, wondering what he was doing there. He took a step towards me and I fought the urge to step back.
"You gave me quite a shock earlier", he said with raised eyebrows, though his tone was innocent enough, "wherever did you learn to dance like that?"
The warning bells I had heard earlier in his presence quite suddenly decided to make their presence felt. Too late, guys, I thought wryly, before deciding that maybe I could match his frankness and honesty. "I learned on Domus Prime", I heard myself say, though not without some reservations, "I had one of the best teachers in existence."
"You dance better than anyone I have ever seen", he said, stepping forward again, "perhaps someday I should visit Domus Prime myself for a few lessons, if you'd be willing to teach me."
I found myself looking up at his blue eyes, meeting his stare and somehow felt more powerful because of it. "Somehow I can't ever a Jedi like you learning how to dance like I was taught. It requires a certain coordination of the mind that the Jedi refuse to attempt."
He tilted his head to one side then, looking at me curiously as if suddenly aware of how close we were standing. "What do they call you on Domus Prime?" he asked in a breathy voice.
"Saffyre", I answered dutifully, "why do you ask?"
He smiled somewhat wickedly. "Because it's only good manners to know the name of the woman you're about to kiss before you kiss her." Then he leaned down somewhat, one hand reaching to cup my chin and lift my head up to meet him. Our lips touched in a flash of electricity and I reached up one hand around his neck, making sure that he could not escape from my clutches until I had been rather thoroughly kissed.
After a moment that seemed to last an eternity we broke apart, both slightly breathless, both wanting more but knowing that would be impossible. Obi-Wan took a step back, allowing me to walk past him in a denial of what had just happened. I did so slowly, turning back to look at him one last time.
"Saffyre", he asked in a voice that sounded strangely vulnerable for a Jedi, "will I ever see you again?"
Knowing that seeing him again was something I wanted very dearly, I forced myself to be brutally honest for the sake of both of us. "I don't think so", I said, turning my back and walking away. He let me go in silence.
"But maybe I will see you again one day", I finished silently to myself.