"Yer craftier than a desert rat. Yer know that?" If it hadn't been for this single laconic comment, Anakin never would have known that Keinan Pell was the least bit startled by his sudden appearance in the Captain's office – a room that had no hiding places. The little man's eyes didn't even blink, as the apparition of Anakin appeared to materialize out of thin air.
"I'm supposed to be," Anakin said.
"Oh, aye," Pell agreed mildly enough, instantly taking in Anakin's street clothes and evident wish to remain unnoticed. "That's a new look fer ye."
"Suits me for now," Anakin said shortly.
"Princeling no more, eh, yer Lordship?" Pell ventured, and got a dark scowl from Anakin in return. "Have a seat, then," the Captain of the Senate Guard offered, pointing at a low chair in his otherwise sparse office.
As usual Anakin preferred to stand, which he did with his arms crossed. He always enjoyed looming over Pell, probably because Pell simply couldn't be intimidated. At the moment the Captain remained comfortably seated with his gleaming boots planted firmly on the edge of his desk.
"I need an update," Anakin demanded. "Everything that has gone on since I was here last. Start with Zangan."
"He's been replaced," Pell said.
"So soon?" Anakin was surprised. Zangan had been killed two days ago. "They didn't give you the job?"
Pell laughed loud and long. "Not in this Galaxy!" he roared. "Where've you been?"
Anakin contented himself with staring at the man with a gaze like a stone-cutting laser until Pell subsided.
"No," Pell said, wiping his eyes, "they've put one of those Academy graduates in his place. And in Tibbs', too."
"Tibbs is gone?' Anakin asked.
"Aye," Pell said, serious once again.
"Where?"
"Vanished," Pell said. "One day he were here, the next, he weren't."
Anakin frowned. "Dead?" he asked.
"Who knows?" Pell shrugged. "An' more importantly, who cares?"
Anakin looked at him sideways but didn't say anything.
"Yer not gettin' it, Big Man," Pell said. "Around here, nobody cares about anybody unless they're on top, and then they hate 'em. And they're happy for a day or so when they fall – and then they forget 'em. Forever. It's not the person that counts. It's the position. It's the power."
"What are they saying about me?"
"After the fun dies down, if you disappear like Zangan and Tibbs, they forget you. If yer don't come back and show 'em yer in charge, yer gone as far as they're concerned. Yer a ghost."
Anakin looked at his boots. Yes, I am.
"Are ye a ghost?" Pell persisted, "or are ye comin' back?"
"I don't know," Anakin said to his boots. "A lot of things have changed." Then he looked up sharply. "Has the Chancellor asked about me?"
Pell gave him a 'you ought to know better than that' look. "If he has, I wouldn't know."
Anakin's gaze didn't stray from Pell's face. "But you could find out."
Pell grinned. "Oh, aye. I could find out a lot of things if I put my mind to it." Then his expression became serious. "But ye'll have to make up yer mind pretty quick. I may not be here fer long."
"Why?"
Pell shrugged and looked at some unknown point far away. "It's time," he said simply. Everything is changin.' Not much room in the new order fer the likes of me." He laughed again. "The new Academy fellas and the new recruits are all humanoid. And tall." He made comical face. "I'm human enough. But I sure don't fit the mold"
No one had a better sense for subtle shifts in power and influence than Keinan Pell. Anakin paid attention. "New order?"
The atmosphere in Pell's small office shifted suddenly, as though a shadow had passed though it. Pell took his feet off the desk and sat forward, leaning his elbows there instead.
"Sit down, Big Man," he said to Anakin. "Take a load off."
For once, Anakin sat.
"He runs everything." Pell pointed upward. It was clear that he meant the Chancellor. "He's not a figurehead, or just a politician. Every decision, every allocation, every piece of gossip ends up goin' through his office. He hand picks his people." Pell looked at Anakin balefully. "Like ye."
Anakin shrugged dismissively. Pell gave him a knowing look, as though the gesture had revealed a great deal.
"If yer not one of his any more," Pell offered warningly, "I suggest ye clear out. Now. He won't tolerate any others."
Anakin looked at Pell thoughtfully. "What will you do?"
Pell leaned back and grinned. "Disappear," he said. "It's a big Galaxy. There's a war on. There's always work for a soldier."
"A mercenary," Anakin said, with a new light starting to flicker somewhere deep inside of him.
"Maybe."
"You'll work for yourself." He is a free man, Anakin thought.
"Aye. It's the best way." He grinned. "Now I've been a Captain once, I'm worth more. I owe ye."
"Yes, you do," Anakin said, smiling a little, but without warmth. "Remember that when we cross paths again."
"Funny thing for a Jedi to say," Pell said appraisingly, probing. There was a growing question in his eyes.
"Maybe a Jedi wouldn't say it." Anakin hoped he had kept the bitterness out of his voice.
Pell paused and stared at Anakin with unreserved fascination. "Flamin' turdshine," he breathed, after a while, "did you go rogue?"
Rogue, Anakin thought, as a shock of recognition shot throughout his body. Is that what I am now? A rogue Jedi? For the first time he understood his true position, and the realization crashed over him like an avalanche. He had left the Order without formally being released from it, and he had taken his weapon with him rather than surrendering it as required. He was a fully armed and skilled Jedi who had severed all connections with the Order, and who therefore was not bound by the Jedi Code.
A rogue. I didn't think …I wasn't trying …
Rogue Jedi. Force-sensitive, Jedi-trained Masters who operated outside of the moral framework implicit in the Code. They were rare; Anakin could only remember having heard about a few. But they were considered so dangerous that the Order took pains to hunt them down and destroy them. Anakin wasn't formally a Master, but it was unlikely that anyone in the Order was in doubt about his capabilities. For a single, overpowering moment, he honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Then he pulled himself together. Hard.
"What if I did?" he said coldly, to cancel out his earlier rush of dismay.
"Then yer a braver man than I've ever seen," Pell said with frank admiration.
Anakin didn't feel quite so heroic at the moment, but was glad that he appeared to. At least he still had the wit to play on his advantage.
"I want you to do something for me, Pell," he said, with just enough of a sharp edge to match his new image.
"Aye," Pell said, cautiously. He would have been happy to help before. Now he didn't dare refuse.
"I need information. And I need it yesterday." Pell listened carefully while Anakin laid out everything he wanted.
"I'll do my best, Big Man," the Captain of the Guard assured him. He still seemed comfortable in Anakin's presence, but there was a new barrier of caution between them that hadn't been there before. It irritated Anakin, but it also aroused his interest.
"Get over it, Pell," he snapped, "as long as you don't betray me you have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all."
Pell grinned, covering up the tense look that had been on his face before. "Oh, aye? That's good to know. I'll get ye what ye need."
Anakin stood up, fascinated by the ease with which he had inspired fear in someone like Pell. Nothing had changed except the man's belief about him – about what he might be capable of – and yet everything had changed. Anakin had no doubt that Pell would do exactly what he had promised.
"You never saw me," he ordered.
"Course not," Pell chuckled. "I'm not daft."
Anakin noticed a new feeling flowing through him. A new strength. A surge of relief. It was almost as though he was turning the tables on the fear he had carried with him for so long. By sending it elsewhere, by passing it on to others, he could finally begin to let it go. Despite his desperate situation he felt much better than he had in a long time. Without another word to Pell, he vanished out the door and down the hallway as quickly as he had arrived, leaving the little Captain staring thoughtfully at the empty space where Anakin had been.
* * * * *
Padmé found herself taking several deep calming breaths as Anakin had taught her while she waited in the anteroom of the Chancellor's office. She had been summoned for an immediate meeting and didn't have the slightest idea why.
Padmé couldn't believe her bad luck. She had successfully avoided any interactions with Palpatine for a long time – and now this. The timing of today's meeting could not have been worse.
Despite the urgency of the summons he kept her waiting for a long time. Finally she was ushered into his office.
"Senator Amidala. Please come in." Chancellor Palpatine was all geniality. It put her teeth on edge.
Padmé seated herself carefully on the very edge of the proffered chair and tried to imagine that this was many months ago, when she still believed in the Senate and the power of the democratic process. Before she suspected the treachery of the man in front of her. When she still trusted him.
She kept her chin high and her eyes steady, knowing that the slightest slip would exact an unthinkable cost.
"You wished to see me, Chancellor?" Her voice was low and calm.
"Yes, Senator. Thank you for taking the time. I know the press of business has almost doubled recently."
"Tell me how I can be of assistance," Padmé said, checking to make sure that nothing in her body was tense and that her body language was open and relaxed.
"I believe it is I who can be of assistance to you, Senator," Chancellor Palpatine said pleasantly. I understand that you are returning to Naboo shortly with your daughter."
How did that son of the seventh pit know about that? Padmé thought fiercely. And what else does he know?
"Yes, that's right," she said calmly, nodding.
"It can be a dangerous journey in these times," the Chancellor said, looking terribly concerned.
"I know," Padmé said. "I have arranged for a security complement to accompany me. We are taking every precaution."
The Supreme Chancellor of the Republic leaned back a little and beamed at her. "That is where I believe I can be of help to you."
Now what? thought Padmé while raising her eyebrows in an interested expression. "Really? In what way?"
"As it happens, a convoy of military vessels is leaving for Naboo tomorrow. If you can arrange to leave that quickly, you and your daughter and staff could travel as part of that task force. It is very well armed, and you would be as safe as possible in these wartime conditions. I will see to it that you are all made very comfortable."
Padmé hoped he couldn't hear her heart thudding from across the desk.
He must know something, she thought. He knows and he has just blocked me in. There is no way I can refuse.
"What an extraordinary piece of luck!" Padmé said, somehow pulling a little animation out of reserves she had thought were empty. "But is this Task Force actually needed on Naboo? I wouldn't want to be responsible for pulling it away from another mission."
"You wouldn't be," Palpatine assured her. "Naboo is its destination. It is bringing the new Military Governor for the Sector to his headquarters."
It was an elegant slap in the face. Sudden anger gave Padmé new strength to continue with this miserable little game.
"On Naboo?" she asked mildly. "A Military Governor will be headquartered on Naboo?"
"You don't seem surprised," Palpatine said pleasantly despite his narrowed eyes. "And yet the decisions about the deployment of the first Military Governors were only finalized very recently. The announcement has not yet been made."
If you have ever thought fast, do it now.
Padmé laughed, startling herself and, apparently, Palpatine.
"No," she said, "but I had a bet with my staff that the Naboo Sector would be among the first. I know better than they do how concerned you are for our safety. Needless to say, I won."
There was a quick little silence.
"You surprise me, Senator," the Chancellor said penetratingly. "I'm very aware of your opposition to the deployment of Military Governors. I would not have expected you to welcome this news."
Padmé stood up. She had suddenly made up her mind how to handle this. The decision gave her the energy for a strong finish for the charade they were playing.
"I don't, of course, Chancellor," she said. "But I'm not a fool. I know that this move is inevitable for the moment. I rely of course upon your repeated assurances that this is a temporary measure made necessary by the war, and that when the fighting is over we will return to the ideals of the Republic for which so much blood is being shed."
And then she smiled. Really smiled.
"After all, Chancellor Palpatine, if we can't trust you, whom can we trust?"
He said nothing. There was nothing he could say. He confined himself to inclining his head graciously in acknowledgement of her complement.
"Thank you for the offer of safe passage to Naboo, Chancellor," Padmé finished gracefully. "I accept. Perhaps you would ask your staff to contact mine to make the arrangements? There is much to do if we are to leave so quickly."
"Of course, Senator, " he said. "I wish you a safe journey."
Padmé felt his gaze burning into her back for the duration of the long minute it took her to walk regally across his office and out the door.
* * * * *
"Padmé?"
Padmé almost jumped out of her skin with hope and anticipation when she heard her name whispered from somewhere in the darkness. She whirled around to find … not Anakin. A Jedi … but not Anakin. She took a breath to coax her heart back to its normal rhythm.
"Obi-Wan." She breathed again, deliberately, while the shadowy figure in the long brown cloak stepped out of the shadows of an arrangement of large shrubs and bowed to her. "I didn't know whether my message would find you …I mean, I hoped you were here on Coruscant…" She stopped, and then said simply, "It has been far too long."
He grinned. "That always seems to be our greeting, doesn't it? Too long between visits from old friends."
"You weren't very happy with me the last time we saw each other," she pointed out, remembering the look on his face when he found Anakin in her office rather than at his post.
Obi-Wan flashed another smile. "It wasn't you I was unhappy with, believe me." He glanced around the roof terrace. It was large enough that the edges seemed to disappear into the darkness. The plants and pathways had taken on the odd colors of the Coruscant night, giving the garden an otherworldly feel. "We are alone for the moment, in case you are concerned."
Padmé felt some of the tension leave her. His presence was the most reassuring thing she had experienced in two days.
"I am," she confirmed.
He stepped closer, so that she could see his face in the semi-darkness. Even in the purplish light from the neighboring building she could see the large bruise on the side of his face, and the hollows under his eyes. She knew there was no point in asking how it had happened.
"How can I be of help?" he asked.
Padmé crossed her arms tightly and looked down at the ground, wondering how to begin.
"I find myself in the position of not knowing whether there is anyone in all the Galaxy whom I can trust," she said, frowning at the path, at the hem of her gown, at everything except the man in front of her. "Everything I thought was true has turned out to be a lie. People I thought were friends are now revealed as enemies. Everything, but everything, in my known universe has changed."
Now she looked up and found his eyes readily looking into hers. Steadily. Openly. Unguarded, as far as she could see in the dim light.
"I trust you, Obi-Wan. I trust you with my life and more importantly, the lives of those close to me. Now I need to know from you whether I can trust the Jedi Order."
He cocked his head to the side quizzically.
"I don't understand. Why would you not be able to trust the Order?"
Padmé bit her lip. Well, she had come this far. She had sent for him, and he had come. It was time to take the plunge.
"Let me ask another way. How …devotedly" – she almost had said blindly – "does the Order serve the Senate?"
"We serve the Republic," Obi-Wan said carefully, after the briefest pause. "We serve the Senate as its instrument."
"Suppose …suppose there were problems with that instrument," Padmé suggested carefully. "Suppose it were not serving the Republic as it ought."
"We know there are problems in the Senate," he said. "We have known for a long time."
"Yet you serve it."
"Yes."
There was a silence.
"What else would you have us serve?" Obi-Wan asked.
"The Republic," she said quickly. "Certainly the Republic. But …perhaps in a different way."
"The Jedi Order has served the Republic for a millennium in many different ways," he reminded her quietly.
Padmé suddenly held up both hands, as if in surrender.
"Enough," she pleaded. "We're talking around in circles. I called you as a friend. I want to speak to you as one."
He took another step toward her. "You can," he said. "You know you can."
"I have information about corruption and misconduct at the highest levels of the Senate. It is so damning that my staff are begging me to destroy it and pretend I never saw it. But I can't do that."
"No," he said. "I don't expect you would."
"I want to give it to someone who can help me to decide how best to proceed. The logical choice is the Jedi Order. But I need to know whether by doing so I am signing the death warrants of a great many people whom I love."
"What kind of information is it?" Obi-Wan asked, very quietly. Padmé got the distinct impression that he was listening in several directions at once. Even knowing that he would instantly become aware of any intruders, she instinctively lowered her voice to match his.
"It supplements data prepared by the Jedi Order about Separatist activities. Augments it. Changes it." Padmé paused before forging on. "It points at a deliberate campaign of misinformation about the conduct of the War that comes from the highest levels of the Senate." She paused, and then plunged on. "We also have corroborating information that points at illegal activities on the part of Republican Army forces. We're pretty certain they are carrying out raids disguised as Separatists."
Obi-Wan took a sharp breath. It was quiet, but Padmé heard it. "Anakin obtained this information for you, didn't he?" he asked.
It hurt even to hear Anakin's name said out loud. Padmé winced.
"Yes."
"I don't know how to ask you this, but… how certain are you that it is accurate?"
"What?" Padmé hissed.
"You heard me." The words were harsh, but the voice that delivered them was gentle. Padmé didn't care. She suddenly hated Obi-Wan for the question.
"I'm certain that it is." She swallowed. "It cost him a great deal to obtain it."
Obi-Wan stood silently in front of her for what seemed like ages. Padmé waited for what he would say next with her blood pounding in her ears. She didn't realize that she was biting her lip again.
When he still didn't speak Padmé asked, her voice choked, "Should I be sorry that I asked for your help?"
"No," he said quickly, reaching out to hold her arm as though to reassure her with the physical contact. Or maybe to keep her from bolting? "Not at all. I'm just thinking."
"It's a list, isn't it? he asked after a while. "A list Anakin obtained from the Deputy Security Chief?"
Padmé nodded.
"He spoke about it. What he said did make sense."
"You …you saw him?" Padmé asked in a rush. "When?"
Obi-Wan looked at her keenly. "Yesterday. At about midday," he said.
Midday. That must have been right after her last contact with him.
Something happened, she thought. Something happened in the Temple.
"Do you know where he is now?" she asked, trying to sound casual, and failing miserably.
Obi-Wan looked at her intently. "Actually, I thought … I hoped …he might be with you," he admitted. "He hasn't contacted you since then?"
Padmé shook her head forlornly, crestfallen that Obi-Wan obviously didn't know where Anakin was, either.
"What happened?" she asked hoarsely.
Obi-Wan just shook his head. Padmé got the message. Jedi business. Keep away.
"I need to know," she insisted, unwilling to be put off over something so important.
"He …is angry. About a lot of things," Obi-Wan admitted. "There was …a falling out. A serious one." He shook his head. "I shouldn't be telling you any of these things, but I have to find him. I need you to let me know if you see him or hear from him."
Padmé's mind spiraled as she tried to think through the implications of Obi-Wan's admission. What could be so crucial that Anakin would cut himself off from everyone – not just from her – so thoroughly?
"What if he doesn't want to be found?" she asked suddenly.
Obi-Wan looked grimmer than she had ever seen him. "His life may be at stake, Padmé. I'm trying to help." The Jedi Knight's hand squeezed her arm gently. However it was meant, the gesture was far from reassuring. Padmé stared at him in distress. Anakin was alive, but his life was in danger. Was that why he had not contacted her? To keep her safe? She could almost hear his voice saying, I will always protect you.
Then I will protect you, she resolved. She would be patient, and wait for Anakin to contact her She would not reveal his whereabouts unless he wanted her to. And for now, she would finish her business with Obi-Wan.
"The data," Padmé said abruptly, to change the subject. "What do you advise me to do with it?"
"We are natural allies," Obi-Wan said carefully, accepting that she didn't want to talk about Anakin further. "I think our goals are the same. The Order is being attacked on every front as well. The truth will be our strongest weapon. We will not give you away."
Padmé hesitated. "There is so much at stake."
Obi-Wan pointed to the bruise on his face. "As it happens," he said mildly, I have spent quite a bit of time searching for evidence of these so-called 'Separatist attacks.' Ask your Security Chief. He helped me on Naboo."
"Yes," Padmé nodded. "I know." Her decision made, she reached into her pocket for the tiny, fragile data chips that in the wrong hands could mean the difference between life and death. Obi-Wan took them quickly, and in the blink of an eye his hands were empty again. "On your word," she said. It came out like a prayer.
"On my word," he vowed.
"You should know also that there are others with me on this," Padmé said quietly. "Not many. But it is a beginning."
"Let me know if you need help," Obi-Wan said simply, respecting her desire for secrecy. Padmé nodded. "And Padmé …" he went on; "I must see Anakin, even if he doesn't want to see me. It's vital."
Padmé nodded again. It was an acknowledgment, not a commitment. He squeezed her arm again gently, and then disappeared into the shadows.
Padmé looked after him into the darkness while her thoughts surged back to Anakin. Always to Anakin. He is in trouble and he didn't come to me, she thought crossly. Aggravation was starting to displace grief and worry, and she was amazed at how good it felt. She deliberately fanned its flames to burn away the pain she had carried since he disappeared.
He had better have a good reason for all this, she thought, building up to a heartening head of fury, or I'll kill him myself and save everyone else the trouble.
As long as she didn't allow herself to think about how much she longed for him, she could hold on.
