CHAPTER SIX
Obi-Wan Kenobi was frustrated with his colleagues on the Jedi Council. This discussion about the appropriate methods of training younglings in lightsaber techniques had gone nowhere for over two hours. It was time to end it. And he had the perfect way to change the subject completely.
"I am leaving in two hours to join Anakin at Sullust," he announced calmly during a pause in the conversation.
From across the circular room Master Secura, a blue-skinned female Twi'lek, looked at him in shock. "Do you think that is wise, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan quickly glanced around the circle at the other nine Jedi Masters. Their faces, and their presences in the Force, revealed more agreement than they intended. It was to be expected, however. His twenty-three years and Anakin's twenty-one gave them longest tenures by far on the present Council; the next most senior member, Master Bthitip, had been on the Council for a dozen years.
"Aayla, do I typically take actions I believe are unwise?" he asked in amusement, a smirk across his face while he stroked his short white beard.
The rhetorical question spoke for itself.
"Your guidance here will be sorely missed," Master Bthitip, a male Quarren, said quietly.
"I would be pleased to assist you in any way I can," interjected Master Krint, a male Zabrak.
Obi-Wan sighed deeply. There was no easy way to calm their spirits. He tried his last resort. "Raise your hand if you've slain a Sith Lord," he suggested mischievously. Of course his was the only one in the air. Then – without taking his eyes from Krint's – he used the Force to lift the front right corner of Anakin's vacant chair as though it were raising itself on his behalf.
As he expected a warm chuckle filled the room and his colleagues found their collective center again.
"The Chair is all yours, Barriss," Obi-Wan grinned at Master Offee, the golden-skinned near-human woman seated to his left. "Feel free to continue the meeting without me, but I need to go pack."
---
Padmé looked across the small round table at Anakin. "I can't believe it. I can't believe they actually found the frigate." She finished tying up her long brown hair in a wrapped braid on the back of her head and rubbed the wrinkles from the front of her formal, royal purple gown.
"I know, angel, I know," Anakin smiled, crossing his arms over the front of his tan Jedi robes. "Our spies on Xixus have been notified. We'll be able to get her out soon. I promise."
"I just hope they haven't… hurt her or… done anything to her before we can save her." Padmé knew Anakin was checking on Leia frequently in the Force and that nothing awful had occurred yet, but she remained extremely anxious about the situation. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I have to do this, don't I?"
"Yes, you do." Anakin sent her a short burst of soothing feelings in the Force. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Padmé opened her eyes again and smiled lovingly. "I know." She reached down and tapped in the access code; Anakin slid his chair beyond the range of the outgoing image. A few moments later one of Supreme Chancellor Trellem's secretaries appeared in the holographic image. "Hello, Garraun," she greeted the young Bith. "I'm calling in for my appointment with the Supreme Chancellor."
"Yes, Special Advisor Skywalker, of course. He'll be right with you."
Padmé took another deep breath and waited. "Greetings, Gannis. I hope you are well."
The sixty-year-old, gray-haired man from the Core world of Nubia nodded his head. "I am, Padmé, thank you. And you?"
"Things have been better for my family," she growled.
Chancellor Trellem blinked but did not apologize. "I set up this appointment because I seek your counsel about the crisis Argis has provoked in the Mid Rim."
"I trust I do not have to refresh your memory on my scholarly writings on these topics," Padmé asserted bluntly. "Most wars in galactic history have been caused by territorial disputes or economic inequality. Argis seems to be keenly exploiting both of those angles."
"Do you have any sense," Trellem queried, "whether his aggressive military activities are subservient to his wealth redistribution agenda?"
"Any special insight? Not particularly." Padmé looked down briefly at her datapad. "My opinion is that his recent series of military escalations indicates an unwillingness to resolve his differences with the Republic peacefully."
"What is your evidence for this conclusion?"
"Argis' forces have been engaged in piracy along the Corellian Trade Spine for several years. His zone of territory has been expanding Inward from Vyhrrag, bringing him closer and closer to the Spine itself. His most recent acquisition, Xixus, easily could be a staging ground for an operation to blockade shipping entirely." Padmé did not mention that each such expansion also brought Argis' forces nearer to Naboo. "Each time the Senate has insisted the piracy cease, Argis has escalated in response. He has not performed a single act of good faith, despite the many such attempts you have made."
"And if I assume for the moment that Senator Organa" – declining to refer her as Padmé's daughter – "has been taken prisoner under Argis' authority, he would have escalated the crisis yet another step." He looked down in consternation. "A step Senator Bellion reminds me most certainly constitutes an act of war."
"That is true, Gannis," Padmé concurred. "But an act of war does not require war in response. It only authorizes it. If you truly believe this proposed summit has even a slim chance for a peaceful settlement, you should proceed with it."
"Thank you for your candor, Padmé," Trellem smiled weakly. "I can tell from your tone, however, that you believe such a chance does not exist."
"You are correct about that," she conceded. "But it is not my decision to make. You are the Supreme Chancellor, not me." She heard a very quiet pretend cough from Anakin and quickly redirected her eyes to him without shifting the angle of her face. He mouthed two words to her. For now. She couldn't keep the wicked smirk from appearing for just a moment along her lips.
Trellem proceeded obliviously. They discussed in further detail the economic claims raised by the New Justice movement as well as the nature of the political response of the Republic to Argis' incitements. After almost an hour Trellem changed the subject. "Padmé, your judgment and leadership are highly valuable assets to me. I wonder if you would be willing to broaden your role and share your abilities with the Senate as a whole?"
Padmé had not anticipated this turn of events, and neither Sabé nor Millius had mentioned any such notion. "What do you have in mind, Chancellor?"
"There are eight Senate seats that have remained vacant for over three years because systems that have joined New Justice have refused to send their representatives. There is talk among the Rules Committee of introducing a bill that would convert these seats into Senators-at-Large for the duration of the crisis." Centuries ago several positions in the legislative body always has been set aside for at-large Senators. Those chosen to serve were elder statesmen or universally respected politicians who could speak for the citizens of the galaxy as a whole, rather than being bound to the interests of a particularly system's constituency. "If this occurs, would you be willing to serve? They are likely to be Chancellor's appointments."
Padmé managed to keep the surprise in her emotions off her face and from her voice. "I'll be honest, Gannis. I have very much enjoyed my life away from active politics. I'm not sure I want to be that far on the inside again."
"All I am asking for now is that you consider it," the Supreme Chancellor smiled. "Much would have to happen before you would have to make any final decision. Think about it. Please."
"I will. I promise you that."
"Thank you." The holographic image of Trellem shifted in his chair on Coruscant. "I appreciate all the time you have taken with me today, Padmé. I know you have a great deal on your mind. You and your family are in my thoughts."
"That's kind of you," she acknowledged diplomatically. "But our thoughts are with you. This crisis is as grave as anything the Republic has faced in decades. Events are moving rapidly and could spiral out of control without warning." She would not tell him about the Sith, not directly. "Dark forces are at work, Chancellor. There is more going on that any of us understands, even the Jedi Council. Be careful."
Trellem nodded. "I will." He paused momentarily. "Don't worry, Padmé. I'll stay sharp. I'm no Palpatine." He meant it as an entirely innocent jest.
Padmé's eyes flashed to Anakin's. We can be thankful for that, said their secret gaze.
When Anakin had slain Darth Sidious over twenty years ago, only a handful of individuals in the entire galaxy ever had learned that Sidious in fact had been Palpatine. The Jedi successfully had controlled their monopoly over the truth in the hours after the initial assassination and the citizens of the Republic had gone about their daily lives believing that the elderly Palpatine had succumbed to natural causes. Subsequent review of Sidious' files had revealed a meticulous and flawless separation of all references to Sidious and Palpatine. Apparently as insurance against an inadvertent discovery of his lair, Palpatine appeared in the files merely as a dupe in Sidious' master plan to seize control of the Republic, establish an Empire, and annihilate the Jedi Order. Palpatine's official files likewise contained not a single mention of Sidious or even of any information that the man would have known only in his Sith capacity. Thus all of Sidious' manipulations, from the machinations that led to the Trade Federation attack on Naboo to controlling both sides of the short-lived Separatist insurrection, could be explained as Sith deviousness in which Palpatine had been unfortunately and unknowingly culpable. This was the version of galactic history that scholars had studied and written for the last two decades, and every single conclusion was fully supported by Palpatine's official files and Sidious' Sith records. Some academics and commentators found it odd that Professor Skywalker, such an astute and incisive analyst of political history, never had written a single word about these events even though she had participated in many of them. Her public explanation was that her personal involvement was too emotional and deep and would compromise her objectivity. Only Anakin knew her true reason: she was unwilling, even indirectly, to lend her voice to a monstrous – if necessary – public deception.
Padmé shifted her eyes back to Trellem and held him in an intense stare. "I know that, Gannis. We certainly don't need another Palpatine. But in the present crisis we can't afford another Valorum either."
The Supreme Chancellor's face froze as he comprehended the implication. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you again for your counsel, Padmé. Until next time."
"Very well, Your Excellency. May the Force be with you."
When she terminated the feed, Padmé propped up her elbows on the edge of the small table and let her face fall into her hands. Anakin rose from his chair and stepped over to stand behind her. He placed his hands tenderly on her shoulders and began to knead slowly her tense muscles. "You did well," he soothed.
"Thanks." She moaned in satisfaction as he ground out a knot at the base of her neck. "What do you think I should do about the at-large seat if it opens up?"
He smiled. She knew what his answer was – probably even the exact words he was about to speak. It wasn't his opinion she needed to hear; it was his gentle reassurance.
"I think the Republic needs you." The rest of his approval he didn't express in words.
---
Even in her detention cell deep within the Vyhrragian frigate Leia could feel the huge starship settle into a dock. After a considerable delay the sounds of two pairs of boots approached the door. As she expected, the two dark figures who had arrived to seize her aboard the Marigold entered her cell. Once again she could not see the faces concealed beneath the hoods of the huge black cloaks, although she now was certain the taller one was a man and the shorter one was a woman.
Leia rose to her feet and nodded her head, hoping they would accept her signal that she intended to follow them. With a wave of his hand the man ushered her out the door and into the hallway. With him in front and the woman trailing on her heels, Leia walked again through the maze of corridors and turbolifts until they exited through a skyway attached to one side of the frigate. Soon they had passed through a hangar facility and entered a series of tunnels. They seemed to be underground, so Leia surmised they had made landfall on some planet controlled by the New Justice movement.
Almost half an hour of walking later Leia was led into a small windowless room. The walls were painted a dark gray and a solitary light disk shone on the low ceiling. In the middle of the room was a single three-legged stool.
"Have a seat," said the woman. Her voice sounded young, maybe older than Leia but maybe not.
Leia nodded, sat down, and held her hands together in her lap. Her feet barely touched the floor. While at this point she had eaten a few meals since her capture, she wore the same clothes and had not been able to shower. She felt disgusting and the stress of the situation had left her emotionally and physically exhausted.
"I have questions for you, Senator Skywalker," the man said. His voice was sinister and gravelly. He sounded somewhat older, although it might simply have been his tone. His words carried a grim hatred in each syllable.
"My name is Leia Organa," she insisted firmly. "I would appreciate it if you would…"
The man cut her off abruptly. "Your father is the Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, is he not?"
"Are these all going to be questions to which you already know the answer?" she spat back at him.
"Then to me you are Skywalker," the man declared. "Feel free to be as indignant about that as you like."
"Very well."
"Where is your father now?"
Leia looked up in surprise. Of course the man's eyes were not visible, but she had no idea why he thought she would know that information. "You've been holding me prisoner for several standard days." Then she shook her head. "And I wouldn't tell you even if I knew."
"That remains to be seen, Skywalker," the man chuckled darkly. "But your father, the hero. Let me continue with him. He will not let you be held prisoner by us, will he?"
"I don't see what that has to do with anything."
"Insolent woman! Answer the questions," the man shouted in anger. His right hand flicked outward and an invisible wave of power blasted Leia backward off the stool. She landed hard on her tailbone before the back of her head smacked violently into the wall.
Leia felt pain spiking throughout her skull and screaming up her spine. The severity of the agony was so intense she could not form thoughts in her mind. It hurt so much she wanted to die simply to make it stop. Then as suddenly as the pain had appeared she found herself flush against the wall, facing outward, held off her feet by the grip of a black-gloved hand on her throat.
"Do you understand me now, Skywalker?" the man asked sharply. "Have I made myself clear?"
Leia managed to force a single word. "Yes." The grip on her throat loosened and her feet dropped to the floor again. But the hand stayed around the base of her neck and the man's body was only inches from hers. Yet somehow she still could not see his face. And the piercing shards of pain stabbing her body had not abated.
"Your father will not sit by while we hold you, will he?"
"I don't know." It was difficult to formulate a coherent idea, much less speak one. "He will do what he thinks is appropriate." She tasted blood in her mouth from where she had bitten her tongue when her head hit the wall. "I have no idea what he will think is appropriate to do about this."
"Do you really expect me to believe that, Skywalker?" The man's voice was becoming increasingly vicious. "He won't come after you?"
"I don't know," Leia insisted again. Her brain was about to explode. Any second now. "Maybe."
The man squeezed her throat tighter and drove his body against hers, forcing the air from her lungs as her ribs collided with the wall. "You can make this easy or you can make this difficult, Skywalker." His left hand grabbed the front of her pants. The message was unmistakable. "The choice is yours. I will give you only one more chance to cooperate."
"I… will not…" Leia could only sputter words. She was on the borderline of unconsciousness as she ran out of air.
"Enough of this! Release her!"
The woman's voice barely was audible over the blazing pain and the muddled state of Leia's mind. Without a word the man removed his hands from her and stalked across the room to stand at the door. For at least a split-second as she slid down the wall into a heap on the floor, Leia noted her surprise at who apparently was in charge here. Through fuzzy eyes she looked toward the woman's voice.
The woman stretched out her gloved hands, and Leia unconsciously extended her own and was pulled to her feet. Without really perceiving it Leia found herself sitting on the stool again.
"Tell me, Skywalker, do you think your father will rescue you himself?" The woman's voice was calmer, less menacing.
"I just…" Leia still struggled to collect her thoughts through the pain. "I don't know."
"Would he send your brother? Or your sister?"
"Maybe. I… I can't… really say." Tears were streaming down her face.
Through the blur the woman's black hand skipped through the air. "You'll tell me your best guess."
Now Leia realized why she could not see their faces. They were hiding behind the Force. And she knew the woman was using mind compulsion against her. But with the exhaustion and the pain she wasn't strong enough any more to repel it. "I'll tell you my best guess," she responded in a monotone. "He'll come for me."
"Good. Very good. You see, Skywalker, there is no need to fight with me," the woman chuckled. The dark fingers bounced in front of Leia's face again. "And how long will he wait?"
"Not long," Leia heard herself answer. The conversation continued for several more minutes but her conscious mind was absent. Then everything went black.
Hours later Leia awoke facedown in another prison cell. This time, at least, she was on a cot. The back of her head still throbbed and her lower back ached terribly. A quick mental inspection of the rest of her body seemed to indicate that nothing else had happened. But she had no idea what she might have told them. Sobs of pain and regret shook her prone form and new rivers of tears dampened the pillow. "I'm sorry," she croaked aloud even though she was all alone. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry."
---
Padmé entered the conference room and stood at the head of the table. She rested her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. "There's been a slight change of plans," she sighed reluctantly to the three seated individuals waiting for her.
"Take your time, Padmé," Jenny said calmly.
"Senator Millius did his best, but Trellem and Rylla had the votes," Padmé frowned. "When the cloture motion on the peace summit resolution was made, they won it. The resolution carried too."
"That's frustrating," Sarré grumbled. "It's not going to accomplish anything."
"I don't think so either," Padmé shook her head. "But it's out of our hands now. The summit will be held in two days at Malastare."
"Are we going?" Sarré wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be.
"No. The Republic will be sending eight delegates. Rylla and Breena are the lead negotiators. There will be three spots for Senators from our faction." She chuckled before she continued. "It won't surprise you to hear that Millius refuses to have anything at all do with this summit. He declined to serve on the team." She looked to Sarré. "Your mother agreed to go in his place."
Sarré smiled. "She's not even a sitting Senator, and they're sending her to the peace summit? Wow. They must really be desperate."
"Maybe," Padmé laughed. "More likely, it's a sign of how much they all respect her abilities." Then her face became more somber. "Speaking of abilities, I asked Bryon to join us for a reason." Her son looked up at her expectantly. "Out of deference to the views of the New Justice movement, the Chancellor agreed not to send any Jedi in the security force for the summit."
"That's ridiculous," Bryon exclaimed in consternation. "We shouldn't let them dictate our procedures. Security is far tighter with Jedi assistance."
"I know," Padmé nodded. "But it's not our call. So in place of the Jedi, Commander General Dodonna is sending his most capable units: yours."
"We can leave immediately," Bryon told his mother proudly. "Admiral Mirkalla already has offered us a very fast transport. We'll be there in half a day. That will be plenty of time to prepare." Yet he could not stop himself from sharing an apologetic glance with Sarré.
"We'll keep everything under control here while you're away," Padmé smiled, hoping to ease the news for him a little. "Say hello to Sabé for all of us while you're there." She walked over and rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm certain you will provide perfect protection at the summit. As good as any the Jedi could offer." Then she leaned down and winked. "Let's not tell your father I said that, okay?"
---
Anakin strode quickly across the main hangar of the Invictus toward the sleek Navy transport being prepared for departure near the enormous aperture facing the vast field of stars. He had an important message to deliver before his son left with his troops for the peace summit at Malastare. Fortunately it was quite easy to pick him out, towering above all the others in his shining black battle armor.
"Bryon," he called over the low murmur of boarding soldiers and loading cargo. In the Force he sensed a short burst of disappointment from him. There was someone else he was waiting for.
"Dad, hi," Bryon smiled. With a quick turn of his head he gave a final set of orders to several privates, then faced his father again. "To what do I owe this honor?" he kidded with mock deference.
"I came to wish you well on your mission," Anakin replied with nod, accepting the jest.
"Thank you," Bryon nodded in return. "For once I'm actually hoping for a dull, uneventful assignment."
"I hope so too," Anakin agreed. "Bryon, I want to tell you something. You probably already guessed, but I'm going to say it anyway. Your platoon was here because I requested it." Their eyes met in a gaze of mutual understanding. "Had this summit not arisen, with the security arrangements it requires, your troops would have been the lead team on the rescue."
"I don't know what to say," Bryon said humbly. "I assumed we were only the backup for…" His voice trailed off.
"For Jedi?" Anakin finished for him, crossing his arms over the front of his tan Jedi robes. "This mission is a delicate one, son. We need to get Leia out without provoking a war. Do Luke and Mara seem like the ideal candidates for that to you?"
"No, not really," Bryon chuckled, appreciating his father's levity in the stressful situation. "You really would have had us in the lead?"
"Yes," Anakin confirmed emphatically. Then he let his voice become a bit more serious. "I would have sent Jedi with you, though. There's something you should be aware of, although I ask that you not inform anyone else. Not even your most trusted advisors. In fact, Obi-Wan and I have not told Mara and Luke or Danaé yet."
"Yes, Dad, of course."
"The Jedi Council believes that the Sith have returned. It is likely they are the ones who have captured Leia, and they may be playing a role in Argis' plans. So I would have sent Jedi along to deal with any Sith you might have encountered. But for a rescue, pure and simple, I would send you and your men. Without hesitation."
Bryon looked down at the floor. "Thank you," he said finally.
Anakin looked closely at his son. Bryon was the only member of the family Anakin had to raise his eyes to see in the face, and his imposing figure was truly remarkable. Even more remarkable, though, was the man inside, the man his son had become. "I appreciate how difficult it must have been for you to tell me about your last mission when we talked earlier," Anakin said quietly. His son's eyes met his again. "And if you ever want to talk about what happened, just ask."
"Sure," Bryon smiled. "Maybe someday soon."
Just then Anakin sensed a certain presence approaching the hangar down a nearby hallway. "Well, I should let you get back to your men," he stated simply. "May the Force be with you."
"And with you, Dad." Bryon reached out and pulled his father into a warm embrace.
When they separated, Anakin turned to head toward a side exit. He changed his mind and stopped to face his son again. "Bryon?"
"Yes?"
"I'm very proud of you."
Anakin smiled at seeing Bryon blush deeply and nod. Then he turned on his heel again and walked briskly toward the open doorway. At the last moment, he used a burst of Force-assisted Jedi speed to be sure he was out of sight before Sarré entered the hangar through the adjacent portal. Seeing him only would make her nervous, and his angel had threatened to inflict any number of merciless sanctions upon him if he interfered – even accidentally – with their farewell.
---
It took a search of several different locations on the destroyer before Padmé found Danaé standing at the broad viewport in the lounge of the guest quarters. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked gently.
Danaé turned from staring at the stars to face her mother. "No, I'm not meditating. Just thinking."
"About what?" Padmé slowly paced over to stand next to her daughter, and they both looked out at the constellations.
"About how good Sarré is for Bryon. He's such a different person around her. Happier. Brighter. He lives for her. And she would marry him tomorrow if he asked."
"Have you talked to them much lately?"
"Only the other night in here with Sarré. He's avoiding me."
Padmé raised an eyebrow, wondering if her younger daughter suddenly had become paranoid. "Why would he do that?"
"Because I'm a Jedi," she laughed. "For some stupid reason or another he's still trying to hide from you and Dad how much he loves her. And I think he figures if he avoids me, I won't sense how he feels and tell you. Sarré's pretending to play along with his little game to make him happy, I guess, but she certainly made no effort to conceal anything from me."
Padmé laughed loudly and happily. "Then I guess his plan really didn't work, did it?"
Danaé joined in the mirth. "No. It sure didn't."
After a while Padmé looked up into her daughter's intense blue eyes, at almost the same angle as when she looked into Anakin's. "Danaé, how are you doing?"
"I'm fine, Mom," she insisted firmly in a quiet, calm voice.
"I didn't get the sense the other day that you told me everything that's troubling you, that's all," Padmé persisted tenderly.
"Well, maybe not. I have a lot on my mind. And some of it is Jedi stuff."
"I've been married to your father for almost twenty-three years, dear. There isn't very much Jedi stuff that I don't know."
Danaé giggled a little. "You're right. I'm sorry." She reached out and took her mother's hand. "I miss my Master, Mom. I was with Oga almost every day for over seven years. And then he just vanished. I mean, if I knew he was dead I could mourn him and move on. But not knowing… It haunts me. All the time. It's as if I lost part of myself. As if, well, I don't know… Like I lost my arm."
"I'm sorry, Danaé, I truly am," Padmé soothed. "I can't comprehend that kind of pain." She felt a sudden chill, the kind Anakin described when the Force was warning him of something. A silent voice, cautioning her: Not yet. She shivered almost imperceptibly and shook the feeling from her mind.
"Master Kenobi has been very good about keeping my training up to date," Danaé said with a bit of pride. "I'm ahead in my academic exercises, and in my best Force skills. I'm fine in piloting and most of the other techniques. I need to catch up on lightsaber, though. And I know whatever role Dad gives me on the mission, it will be the right decision."
"As long as you're satisfied with the situation, I'm satisfied too," Padmé smiled. "And you know if you need anything, I will talk to your father for you. Don't hesitate to ask me. Really."
"I know, Mom," Danaé nodded, squeezing her mother's hand. "I'm fine on my own right now. And Dad is looking out for me too. He checks on me often. But I've always been able to come to you with problems if I ever had to, and I still would."
"Okay," Padmé said, squeezing back reassuringly.
They stood in silence, looking out into space. Somewhere in that vastness was the third member of their trio. Without her here, there was a great void in their hearts.
"She'll be back before we know it," Padmé whispered.
"Not a moment too soon," Danaé agreed softly.
---
Luke stepped down from the bottom rung of his X-Wing's boarding ladder and headed directly toward his parents, who were waiting at a safe distance in the gargantuan docking bay. His father, as always, wore tan Jedi robes. Today his mother had dressed in an understated pale orange-and-yellow dress and wore her hair loose. They both smiled broadly as he approached.
He pointedly ignored his father and embraced his mother. Even though he had been cramped in the cockpit for almost four standard days, and neither he nor his maroon flight suit were particularly pleasant, he knew she wouldn't care. They hadn't seen each other in months. "It's good to see you, Mom," he whispered in her ear as he squeezed her tighter and she squeezed back. She kissed him tenderly on the cheek as he pulled away.
Then he glared hard into his father's eyes. "I hope you're happy," he scowled.
"Luke, we must be patient. There are…"
"I left her!" Luke had no intention of listening to any rationalizations. "I was there. I was right there. I could have done something! Mara and I could have." From the look on his father's face, he was certain his eyes revealed his anger clearly. "And because of you," he sneered with all the venomous disgust he could evoke, "she's still their prisoner."
Anakin calmly tried to proceed again. "You don't have the full picture, Luke. Let me…"
"Save it for her eulogy, Master Skywalker," Luke interrupted again, his voice filled with derision as he turned away and stalked off toward the exit on the far side of the hangar.
Mara had taken the courteous route and greeted Han at the Falcon's boarding ramp. "Follow me," she told him when he descended to meet her.
As they approached the Jedi and the woman, Han saw Luke storming away. "What's his problem?" he whispered to Mara quickly.
"He gets that way sometimes," was all she had time to say before they had arrived in front of the pair. "Hello, Master," she smiled. "This is Captain Han Solo of the Republic Navy. Han, this is Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker."
"I trust my apprentice has not given you any trouble, Captain," Anakin grinned as the two men shook hands.
"No, Master Jedi, certainly not," Han replied with as much composure as he could. He was not intimidated easily. But right now he felt like an idiot. When he had met Luke several days ago, he had known the last name sounded familiar but couldn't place why. The man in front of him, however, he had recognized immediately from Holonet stories and history lessons. Anakin Skywalker was a member of the Jedi Council and, by reputation, one of the most powerful Jedi in the Order's illustrious history. No doubt he was reading Han's thoughts right now. And if Mara was this man's Padawan learner, then she probably was much more powerful than he had realized.
"I'll ask you again later when she's out of earshot," Anakin joked. "Captain Solo, this is my wife, Padmé."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain," she smiled pleasantly as they shook hands too.
Mara noticed that Lando and Chewbacca had left the Falcon and were hanging back deferentially. "Han, can I leave it to you to introduce your colleagues? Because I really need a shower. I'll find you later?"
"Sure," Han nodded, struggling not to forget Master Skywalker's wife's name while simultaneously trying to get a read on what exactly Mara had meant by her second question. Then he turned around and waved his friends forward.
---
As she had done the other nights aboard the destroyer Invictus, Danaé pulled on her silken pale blue nightgown. Once again they had to wait before taking action to rescue Leia. The Republic's spies on Xixus had confirmed that the frigate holding her had landed on the planet. But until they could identify the specific location where she was being detained, any attempt to retrieve her only would alert the Vyhrragian forces and potentially provoke them to kill her. When they had a clear picture of the situation on Xixus, a rapid rescue operation would have Leia out before Argis' troops even became aware they were there.
Danaé was about to lie down on her bed and go to sleep when she sensed a sharp and intensely painful sadness flowing into the Force from the next bedroom. Danaé took her lightsaber and access card with her, walked into the hallway, and knocked on the door. "Sarré? It's me. May I come in?"
After a moment the lock clicked off and Danaé waved the door open. She found Sarré sitting on the single bed in the room with her back against the wall, clutching her knees to her chest and crying uncontrollably. Danaé sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"It's not fair! It's just not fair," Sarré sobbed. She wiped her eyes with the too-long sleeve of the too-big white nightgown she had borrowed from Danaé earlier. "I finally got to see him again and they order him away."
"I know. I'm sorry," Danaé soothed as best she could.
"Three nights," Sarré sniffled. "How am I supposed to live with three nights? I hadn't seen him in almost seven months and I get three nights."
Danaé knew that telling Sarré to look at the positive aspect, that at least she had been able to see Bryon in person, would accomplish nothing. "It's okay," she whispered. "He'll be back soon."
Sarré slumped against Danaé's shoulder and began to cry harder again. "He'd better be," she gasped through her tears. "I'm so scared for Leia. I really need him right now."
"I know you do," Danaé said quietly, pulling Sarré into a firmer hug. "I realize it's not the same at all, but I'll stay with you as long as you need tonight, okay?" Sarré nodded weakly into her shoulder. Danaé rocked her gently and sent her waves of calming thoughts in the Force until finally she fell asleep. After she tucked Sarré into the bed, Danaé returned to her room. With her Jedi training to rely on, she was sleeping soundly within a few seconds.
---
Han finished the last swig of caf and set down his mug on the small circular table in the lounge of the guest quarters on the Invictus. "So I guess we're lucky Luke didn't bring a whole squadron of starfighters on his tail after he flashed that frigate," he chuckled.
"You can say that again," Mara grinned. "There's never a dull moment when he's around."
He smirked. "Not that I'm one to talk. I've just never encountered that kind of… well… recklessness from a Jedi before." He stretched his arms up over his head, then adjusted the shirt of his black fatigues back into proper position.
"Luke's not an ordinary Jedi," she said quietly, peering down into her own empty mug. One hand absentmindedly tugged at her Padawan braid; the other plucked at a loose thread from her tan Jedi robes.
Not knowing how to interpret her statement, Han dipped his head lower and a bit closer to hers to try to get her to look at him again. "Something tells me Master Skywalker says the same thing about you."
"You're very perceptive, Captain Solo," she conceded smoothly as she met his gaze. "In some ways, Luke and I are very much alike. We're both prone to act on our own instincts, even if it's against our orders. And we both have a craving for adventure and excitement. Not exactly the standard Jedi virtues."
"I suppose not," he agreed. He wasn't sure whether he should ask, but he did anyway. "You and Luke, you're both very powerful apprentices, aren't you?"
Mara nodded reluctantly. After a moment, she steered the conversation in another direction. "This rescue operation on Xixus, I doubt we can send only Jedi. You should stick around. We could use you."
Han's eyebrows lifted and his jaw dropped. Every single conversation with these Jedi surprised him. "Well, technically we're on leave from our usual posts, so we don't have to head out to report to them. I'll talk to the admiral in the morning. If he doesn't mind, maybe we'll stay and see what happens."
Mara could sense in the Force his genuine shock at her proposal. "I watched you fly, Han. If you handle a blaster half as well, you'll be a big help. And I think you're spoiling for a fight too."
"I'll be honest with you, Mara," he said as he shook his head in bemused agreement. "I find it hard to believe you're really a Jedi. You don't think like one. At least not one I've ever met."
"There's something Master Kenobi always says," she explained, "a lesson he learned from his Master decades ago. Never be too confident in your own abilities as a Jedi, and always be vigilant for allies who can assist you."
He couldn't stifle his laugh. "Look, Mistress Jedi, I've worked with enough of your buddies over the years that I have to accept the existence of the Force and the powers it gives you. But if you're telling me there's some omnipotent pull of destiny out there in the galaxy that brought me here, you're delusional. It's coincidence or luck, nothing more."
Mara smiled. "In my experience there's no such thing as luck." She looked at the chrono on the wall and realized how late it was. "For now, though, can we agree to disagree?" She rose from the table and placed her mug into the cleaner unit.
As he stood Han threw up his hands, palms out in mock surrender. "I'm not going to argue with a Jedi, sister. I'll take my share of risks now and then, but I'm not crazy." He added his mug to the unit too and turned toward the door.
She caught herself considering inviting him back to her room – and instantly shook the impulsive and irresponsible thought away. "You can find your way back to your quarters, I take it?"
"With my eyes closed," he replied with a wink. "The Orn Free Taa is the same ship as this one."
"Well, then good night, Captain Solo."
"Good night, Jedi Jade." He spun on his heel and strode out, leaving her staring at the empty doorway for several minutes, firm in her resolve that she had made the right decision.
---
Jenny was finishing tying back her long brown hair in a braid when the knock came at her door. She waved off the lock and was not at all surprised to see Padmé, dressed in her red nightgown and robe, step through after it slid open.
"I've given up trying to reason with him," her friend said in exasperation. "And needless to say he wants nothing to do with his father. He listens to you. Would you mind?"
"Of course not," Jenny agreed pleasantly; this was hardly the first time they'd had this kind of conversation. "I'll go right now."
"Thank you," Padmé sighed. "He hasn't been this angry in a long time. I'm worried about him."
"I'll do what I can, Padmé, I promise," Jenny replied. She found her slippers and pulled on a thick yellow robe over her orange nightgown. She gave Padmé a long and gentle hug, then padded down the hallway to a closed door. She knocked and received no response. It took only three tries to trigger the keypad to open the lock. He really needed learn to be less predictable with his codes.
"Luke? Luke, it's me," she called out as the door slid open. When he didn't holler in indignation, she marched inside.
He was standing with his back to her in the open doorway to his refresher, leaning on his arms outstretched over his head, his knuckles white from squeezing the doorframe. He wore a sleeveless white shirt and a matching pair of sleepshorts. "What do you want?" he growled. "Are you a messenger or a spy?"
"Neither," she answered quietly. "Your mother asked me to talk to you, but I have no agenda." She paused before she continued. "I'll leave if you want me to."
"No, it's okay," he sighed, pushing off from the wall and turning to face her. His hair was a disaster and his blues eyes were bloodshot from crying. "Look, I know I'm not handling this very well. And being around Dad doesn't make it any easier."
"Because you don't know how he does it. How he stays so calm and controlled all the time." Jenny remembered Anakin before he had achieved his current state of emotional peace. Luke always had reminded her of that Anakin: he was too quick to anger, too impatient and rash, and too passionate in his feelings. Before she could catch it her mind noted another resemblance to the youthful Anakin – the physical one. Luke's attire inadvertently highlighted his thin figure and powerful muscles. To this day Jenny permitted herself a small bit of jealously toward Padmé, and she had suffered through several tortuous periods of impossible crushes on Anakin when she was much younger. If it wasn't so weird, so wrong, she knew she easily could develop the same feelings for this young Skywalker too.
"That's it," Luke conceded as he sat down on the edge of the bed, plunked his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. "I know I did the right thing. I just wish it didn't hurt so much."
Jenny walked over and stood in front of him. "What were you going to do? Fly your ship in there, yet somehow hide so they don't find you? Concoct some scheme to trick your way into the detention bloc, get Leia from her cell, then sneak or fight your way back to your ship? Which they wouldn't have bothered to disable in the meantime?"
"It does sound pretty ridiculous when you put it that way." A smile crossed Luke's face. "You're right," he laughed. "Not to mention that an X-Wing only seats one person." He shook his head and wiped his eyes. "I didn't really have a plan. I just wanted to do something to help her."
"I know you did," she replied soothingly. "And Leia would know that's how you feel."
"Dad has information he hasn't told me yet, doesn't he? And he has a plan?"
She nodded her head, then rested her left hand on his shoulder and brushed the hair off his forehead with her right. "Trust in your father, Luke, and in the Force. And I'll be here for you, if you need me." When he was an infant, sometimes Jenny had been the only one for whom he would cease his shrieking. When he was a little boy, for some reason he always had obeyed her even in his most rebellious stages with his parents or the Jedi. Since then he still always seemed to find calm and serenity in her presence.
"You always have been," Luke smiled sadly. He reached up, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her into a hug. She hugged his upper back as his head rested against her abdomen.
Then, simultaneously, they pulled away. The embrace had lingered longer than either of them had intended, and now they felt uncomfortable.
"Good night, Luke," she said calmly, stepping away toward the door.
"Good night, Jenny," he replied. Just before she left the room, he looked up again. "Thank you."
Neither of them was able to fall asleep for a very long time.
---
After returning from talking to Jenny, Padmé paused in the sitting room of her temporary residence. She and Anakin had the only suite in the guest quarters on the Invictus; the others were simple, one-room bedchambers. She stood over the small desk, tapping on her datapad to retrieve the latest political news on the Holonet.
She looked up when she heard the soft hums and whirs of mechanical motors. If the droids were trying to approach quietly from the separated kitchenette area, they were doing a poor job of it. They should have figured out by now that it was impossible for them to sneak up on anyone.
Threepio rounded the corner. "Oh, Mistress Padmé," he said in surprise. "I didn't hear you arrive."
From behind the wall Artoo blooped a squawk that clearly indicated his consternation at how the protocol droid could have missed that fact.
Padmé suppressed her giggle. "Well, here I am." She glanced down briefly and scanned the headlines. Nothing she didn't already know. "Is Jaytoo here too?"
"No, he isn't," Threepio complained. "He found several military astromechs who share his obsession with holochess. They've been playing for hours down in the hangar." Threepio shook his head and gestured with his hands in frustration. "I don't think we'll ever see him again!"
Padmé smiled and shut off the datapad. "Let him have his fun, Threepio," she laughed. "It's harmless."
"Yes, Mistress Padmé, that's true," Threepio replied, "but I simply think that…"
Padmé tuned out his yammering when Artoo rolled around the corner with a steaming mug of cocoa held out in his small repair claw. She bent down on one knee and retrieved the drink. "Thank you, Artoo," she smiled as she rubbed the top of his dome with her left hand. "You're very sweet." In return she received an embarrassed whistle from the droid.
She stood again and headed toward the bedroom. "Good night."
After the door closed behind her, Threepio turned to Artoo with his hands splayed to the sides in exasperation. "That was awfully devious of you, you little bucket of bolts! You're always trying to get in Mistress Padmé's good graces at my expense. Why, I ought to…"
Artoo rolled back into the kitchenette, doing his best to ignore the golden humanoid droid chasing after him.
Inside the bedroom Padmé found Anakin sitting on the end of the bed in a white plush robe; his hair still looked damp from his shower. She took a few long sips of the cocoa before she set the mug on the nightstand and paced over to stand in front of him.
Only then did she realize he had been staring blankly at the wall. The vacant look in his eyes was ghostly, a hollow gaze she had not seen in many years. Even when she stepped into his line of sight his expression did not change.
Padmé's heart sank in despair and her stomach lurched in panic. "Tell me it's not…" She couldn't bring herself to say what she feared.
Anakin blinked once but otherwise his face remained stony. "No, angel. Not that."
After a long pause she reached out and began to run her fingers through his short gray hair. "What is it, Ani? I have to know."
Finally his eyes shifted and met hers. "Leia's going to be okay."
The ambiguous statement hardly made her feel any better. "What does that mean?"
"I'm not sure, exactly. Someone strong in the dark side is trying very hard to block me in the Force now. I can't get a clear read anymore." He took a calming breath and continued. "She's very upset. I think they interrogated her. And she seems to be in some pain, but I don't think very much."
Padmé pulled his head to her chest as she started to cry. "We have to… We can't…" His hands slid under her robe and rubbed her back through her nightgown. "You have to go for her," she declared after she collected herself.
"I will. Soon. I promise," Anakin reassured her. "There's something else." He pulled his head back and looked up into her eyes. "A great disturbance in the Force. Not directly related to Leia. Different. Ominous."
"Obi-Wan will be here soon. I'm sure he can help you analyze it."
"I hope so." He leaned against her again, and they held each other firmly for several minutes.
"Ani?"
"Yes, angel?"
"Take my mind off this."