Chapter 10. Hostages

On the D'laian battle cruiser Darth Tyrannus waited patiently in the command center, observing the panorama that the computer screens laid out before him.

The Republican fleet had arrived and was holding its position. The Yacht would shortly be under the control of his old friends, the D'laians, who cared far more about personal gain than about civil war. They could have Naboo, for all he cared – if they could defeat the Republican fleet. It was of no importance to him. He did not intend to remain to find out.

Of more interest to him was the prospect that his enemy would play directly into his hands. He had probed every part of him and thought he understood him well.

'Keep your enemies close…' the Jedi had always taught. This enemy was too close.

There could be only two: a Master and an apprentice.

He was not about to allow himself to be replaced. Not now.

The boy had to go.

* * * * *

Anakin came too late. Two of Padmé's security guards lay dead in the quiet, luxurious rooms. One was slumped by the door. The other had evidently fallen from the hatch in the bedroom ceiling. Both had their throats cut.

A silent death, Anakin thought. The sensors had been deactivated.

Everyone else was gone. There were signs of struggle; chairs were overturned. The pale blue veil Padmé had flung onto one of them the last time he saw her lay crumpled on the floor. He sent the Force surging through the ship. It directed him toward the bridge. But which way? The D'laians had gained access from two entrances at once; it was plausible that they would have left in two groups. Even a sorcerer can't be in two places at once, he thought bitterly.

Sensing life in the duct directly above Anakin decided on the high road and hurled himself into the maintenance duct above the sitting room. The third guard lay crumpled inside the duct by the opening. Anakin sent him some healing energy and dropped his cloak over him before making his way along the tube toward the prow of the vessel.

He heard blaster fire ahead and sped up, moving as fast as he could on his knees and forearms. Rounding a bend he saw that the remainder of the duct was empty, so he let himself down through the next hatch. He found himself in the empty galley, and crept toward the corridor that led to the front of the ship.

There was more blaster fire. Anakin reached out to locate Typho and followed his Force signature. He was close. They converged in front of the bridge door, which was closed and showed signs of blaster fire. Typho was there, blaster in hand.

"Which way in?" Anakin asked shortly.

"Only through that door. The ducts end out here."

Anakin took out his light saber to sear through it. Typho restrained him.

"They have them all – Senator Amidala. Dormé and Vespé. The little girl."

"I know."

"He says they'll kill them if we try to break through."

"He won't." Anakin felt certain he knew exactly what Wolan wanted, and he was through accepting advice. Wolan wanted hostages, and he wanted to bait the Jedi with them.

"Sabé and your people are taking over the Salon," Anakin said shortly to Typho as he began to tackle the door. "They'll probably need your help."

The Security Chief wasn't ready to be dismissed by the likes of Anakin.

"Don't!" commanded Typho.

"There's a wounded man in the ducts above the Queen's stateroom." The heavy metal was beginning to yield.

"You're endangering the hostages!" Typho hissed.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Anakin said, already halfway through. He was not interested in having any further conversations about it. His focus was total. The door was beginning to glow red as the light saber cut through it with white heat.  It took him a few minutes to cut a hatch into the heavy blast door. As he had expected, he was not fired upon when he crawled through it, leaving Typho to make his own choices about what to do next. Anakin could feel how badly Wolan wanted him there.

The bridge was as generous as all the other spaces on the luxury yacht, and at the moment it was dimly lit. Anakin stood in front of the door, his weapon sizzling with pale blue light, reaching out with his senses while his eyes adjusted to the gloom.

The men in the pilot's seats were D'laian. It wasn't clear what had happened to the Naboo flight crew. Padmé and her Handmaidens were each held by a member of the Warlord's ubiquitous posse far to Anakin's left. Wolan stood at his far right holding Balé around the shoulders and neck with one arm and with a dagger to her throat. It was obvious who had been doing all of the cutting.

The only possible reason he had to take the child hostage and hold her that way was to goad the Jedi who had taken an interest in her.

"You wanted me," Anakin stated in an ice-cold voice that arose from his equally icy feelings. "Here I am." Except for the constant mental mapping of the space and the energies within it that always went on in his trained mind, his attention was focused on Wolan alone. He allowed no thoughts to linger on the others. He noticed that the ship was now headed toward the D'laian fleet.

"You're very predictable," Wolan sneered from the far side of the bridge.

"Let the hostages go and deal with me directly."

Wolan laughed. "The Senator and the others are a necessary part of our plans. You are a bonus."

Anakin suspected he was a bit more than that. Something about Anakin's presence on the ship had aroused the D'laians from the very beginning. He wanted to know why.

Balé began to whimper softly. Before Anakin could say anything Padmé's voice came from the rear corner.

"I didn't know that D'laian warriors make hostages out of defenseless children. I'm the one who is more useful to you. Let her go and keep me."

Wolan laughed. "Oh, I will keep you. Judging from your rescue force, you're more of a prize than we thought." His voice became harder. "But the child stays."

"I'm not the prize, " Padmé's voice said. "The Republic is. It doesn't matter what happens to me. The Senate's response will be the same."

By this time Anakin had finished going over his options. Twice. He didn't much like any of them. Wolan had known perfectly well that separating the captives increased the risk that someone would get hurt if Anakin tried to free them. More importantly, he had understood that the Jedi would hesitate to take those risks.

For his part, Anakin knew that the D'laian would slit a throat as soon as talk.

"What do you want?" Anakin asked.

"I want you to stay right where you are," Wolan said. Then, to his pilot, "How long?"

"Ten minutes. Maybe twelve," the man answered. Through the view screen the D'laian fleet was looming closer.

He doesn't want Padmé, Anakin thought suddenly. He wants me. The crafty D'laians had found a way of capturing a Jedi that had a much better chance of succeeding than mere physical restraints. And he had walked straight into their trap.

"I thought you wanted to get rid of me," Anakin said.

"I will," Wolan replied. "Believe me, I will."

Anakin tried to reach out with the Force to find out who or what was waiting for him on the D'laian fleet. He found nothing that made any sense: a kind of darkness, perhaps, that hovered around the edges of his awareness. The Force whispered to him but he could not understand what it was saying. Anakin decided he was not going to wait to find out. Whatever took place had to end here. Reaching across the abyss between himself and Padmé he lowered a few layers of shielding and tried to get her attention.

Get down.

She was right there, as though she had been waiting.

It's about time.

Get down!

Anakin felt, rather than saw, her twist out of her captor's hold and hurl herself to the floor. With his saber arm outstretched it still took him four steps to get to the D'laian who was aiming his blaster at her. Anakin lunged and the man fell. Padmé scrambled for the blaster that dropped from his hand.

Dormé fought her way out of her captor's grip with a viciousness that bespoke solid training. Padmé shot him as soon as her handmaiden managed to throw herself forward. At almost the same moment, Balé screamed. She was out of Anakin's reach at the opposite side of the room. Wolan's arm was tightening around her neck and his dagger was under her chin.

Unhesitatingly Anakin went for Wolan's throat. From across the bridge, using the Force alone, Anakin grasped the D'laian's throat and pressed with all the rage that had been building up inside of him. Wolan's head fell back and he began to gasp.

"Anakin!"

Get Vespé, he shot back, moving toward Wolan while refusing to let him go.

Wolan loosened his hold on Balé.

Anakin still pressed harder. He heard a blaster fire behind him but did not let go.

The little girl slid to the floor. So did Wolan.

Balé scrambled up and ran to her Jedi.

Wolan would never get up again.

Anakin shoved the little girl behind him as one of the pilots turned around to fire at him.

"Don't!" Anakin commanded in a voice that was augmented by the Force. The pilot hesitated just enough that Anakin could reach him with the tip of his weapon. The man froze.

"Get out. Both of you."

Threatened by a light sword and Padmé's blaster, and with Wolan and his posse down, both men decided to comply. They sprinted for the blast door and when it could not be opened, squeezed themselves through the small hatch that the Jedi had cut. From the sound of it Typho greeted them on the other side of the door.

Balé was sobbing and clutching Anakin by this time. Dormé rushed forward to retrieve her but she screamed and refused to let go of him. He picked her up and she attached herself to his neck with a stranglehold. With the child holding on for dear life Anakin sat down in the pilot's seat and began to re-set the Yacht's course.

"We need a pilot in here," he said shortly, never taking his eyes off the controls. He made the necessary adjustments with one hand while holding the child with the other, at the same time sending tendrils of the Force to soothe her.

Padmé also tried to remove Balé from Anakin's neck, but with equally little success.

"It's all right," he said, not taking his eyes from his work. "Leave her. Just find a pilot."

The Yacht banked sharply and before long the Republican fleet appeared in the view screen. Anakin headed straight for it. Typho appeared through the hatch, squeezing a little and cursing under his breath. After a brief consultation with the Senator he sat down next to Anakin in the co-pilot's seat.

"The only communications we have are with the D'laian fleet. Everything else is still jammed."

Anakin accelerated as much as he dared.

"It's all right," Anakin said. "They know we're coming."

Typho frowned at him. But it wasn't long before a Republican fighter wing caught up with the Yacht and formed an escort.

The child's sobs had died down but her grip had not.


"We have a ship full of spiteful prisoners," Typho said. "There are constant skirmishes. I'd like to offload them onto that cruiser but we can't communicate with the fleet."

"If we head straight for them they'll pick us up," Anakin said.

Typho gave up second-guessing the Jedi. "Right," he said. "I'll take over until the pilots get here. You go back and make those D'laians settle down."

Hah, Anakin thought. Now he thinks I'm useful.  He eased himself up and carried the little girl to the blast door.

"The only way out is to crawl through there," he said gently. "You go first and I'll be right behind you."

He heard Padmé say, behind him, "Dormé is already out there. She'll catch you." In order to reach out to Balé Anakin had let down much of his defensive shielding. Now he felt Padmé's presence like fire.

Eventually they coaxed the child out of the hatch and into the secured corridor, and the adults followed. Dormé had managed to hold onto Balé for the moment, and there were deep breaths all around.

Padmé spoke to the child gently but firmly.

"I need to speak with the Jedi now. Go with Dormé and he will come to see you later."

There was something about her tone that did not invite argument. Balé subsided.

Padmé turned to Anakin and looked him in the eye.

"Come with me." She turned and walked down the corridor.

He followed her.

* * * * *

Once he saw the Naboo ship return to the Republican fleet with its fighter escort, Darth Tyrannus made a quiet departure from the D'laian vessel.

His Master's plan was obviously working.

His own, however, required further thought. If he did nothing Sidious would sooner or later force him into another confrontation with the boy. It was something he wanted to avoid. The boy was not yet fully trained, but the Force was stronger with him than it had any right to be.

He had to dispose of him soon, before his Master got his hands on him.

Otherwise he was doomed.

* * * * *

Padmé headed for the small conference room, which at the moment was likely to be the only private place on the ship.

When Anakin had entered she locked the door and turned to look at him.

There was a long silence.

Not taking her eyes off his, Padmé said, "You did it again. You saved all of our lives."

"I will always protect you," Anakin said. "No matter what."

"Doesn't anything ever frighten you?" Padmé wondered out loud, not certain how to reach out to him. He seemed to be speaking to her across a great distance.

"Yes," he said with his usual heart-wrenching honesty. "Losing people I love." He stayed where he was – awkward, stiff, but with fire in his eyes.

That did it. With desperation comes inspiration.

Padmé crossed the room to him with those four or five steps that she should have taken earlier in her stateroom, took hold of his leather tunic both fists and shoved him against the wall. Hard.

Surprised and more than willing, Anakin let it happen.

"Pay attention," she said, not more than two inches from his lips. "I am not afraid of you. And you are very easy to love."

Her pulse pounded in her throat while she waited to see what he would do.

Not more than a couple of heartbeats passed before he met her lips with a hunger that took her breath away. As he gradually let down the rest of his defenses their embrace became as passionate as it was healing.

The ache Padmé had been carrying around since he left her disappeared.

"Padmé," he said when he could speak again, pouring all of his love and relief into the single word.

"Don't leave me again," she whispered, still holding on to him tightly.

"I thought you wanted me to."

"No. Never. I'm sorry for everything I said..."

Anakin cut her off with another breath-defying kiss. He was mindfully focusing on the here and now.

As always when Anakin was alone with her he let go of his mental shielding. It was the only time that he was completely open, vulnerable, and wholly himself. The unleashed Force surged around them and through them like a torrent as they clung to one another in the quiet room. Padmé had the oddest sensation of the physical barriers and boundaries between them blurring and disappearing. Padmé wondered, somewhat disjointedly, how she had ever imagined she could go on without him. Then she stopped thinking at all.

Someone knocked on the conference room door.

Padmé ignored it.

The knock came again, more firmly.

"My Lady!" It was a security guard. "Captain Typho needs Jedi Skywalker in the Salon!"

Padmé clutched him tightly. She wasn't ready to relinquish him just now, for any reason. It was Anakin who reluctantly pulled away from her.

"No…" she protested, feeling torn in two.

"You know I have to go," he whispered, and moved toward the conference room door. He was still protecting her – this time from being discovered.

Padmé was beyond being able to compose herself. Anakin had no such difficulty. As soon as he opened the door he once again looked every inch the Jedi – remote, self-contained and focused. To Padmé it felt as though a drawbridge had gone up, leaving her on the far side. She was beginning to ache again.

"Tell him I'm on my way," Anakin told the guard.

Padmé took a deep, deep breath.

Anakin, she called out again just to see whether he would hear her. He looked up and smiled.

Here, he replied, as clearly as if he had spoken.

Confident now that she could reach him in this way, Padmé grudgingly let him go.