"I don't want to go!" Balé screamed. "I don't want to! You're always sending me away!"
Padmé hadn't seen Balé this distraught since the terrible incident during which she had been taken hostage on the Queen's Yacht. She was normally a cheerful, reasonably well-behaved child. But the news that she was returning to Naboo the next day had thrown her into a rare wild tantrum that seemed completely out of proportion to the news.
Even Dormé's calm attempts to reason with her had failed.
"You're not being sent away, child," the handmaiden crooned soothingly, reaching out to smooth Balé's tumbled hair. "We're all going together. I'm going, and Sabé is, and Captain Typho is, and even Dellia is coming along. We're just going home, that's all. It's time for us to go home."
Balé wasn't having it. She pushed herself out of Dormé's grasp and ran to Padmé, who was sitting on the edge of her bed for the simple reason that she couldn't stand up if she tried. She was too distressed. "If we're all going home, why aren't you coming with us?"
"I'm not sending you away, sweetheart," Padmé vowed. "I'm coming home to Naboo, too. I just have to go somewhere else first."
"Where?" Balé was so furious that she actually stamped her foot.
"I can't tell you," Padmé said faintly, knowing that anything she said was going to make this worse. And yet it was essential that they get Bale's cooperation. She was the key to making the entire deception work. And besides, this was breaking her already terribly fragile heart. Padmé understood better than anyone why Balé really was angry. She straightened her shoulders and looked her raging daughter in the eye. Might as well have it all out right now. Better now than tomorrow, when they would desperately need Balé's complete cooperation.
"I don't know where Anakin is, Balé," she said simply. "I don't know why he hasn't been around to visit us. And I really don't know whether you will be able to see him before we go."
Balé burst into tears.
"Did you send him away, too?" she sobbed. "Is he mad at us?"
Just let me hold up through this, Padmé prayed silently.
"I didn't send him away," Padmé said as calmly as she could. "I would never do that. I miss him too, and I want to see him before we go as much as you do." You can't imagine how much. "But he didn't tell me where he was going, and so I don't know how to reach him to tell him that we are going away."
"Is he mad at me?" Balé hiccupped. "Did I do something bad?"
By all the Gods, Padmé raged silently as she lurched up to pull the little girl into her arms. How could he do this to her?
"Of course you didn't do anything bad," she said passionately. "He probably has work to do and couldn't tell us before he had to leave." She took a deep breath and dove into treacherous waters, forcing herself to believe that she was not telling the child a lie. "Anakin loves us. The only reason he isn't here is because right now he can't be. Something is preventing him."
Balé wrapped her arms around Padmé's neck in a stranglehold, still sobbing. "Why can't you come with us? I want you to come with us."
Sabé, who had been keeping herself quietly busy in a far corner of the bedroom, caught Dormé's eye and pointed out toward the sitting room. Dormé nodded, and followed her quietly out of the bedroom.
"I have to go somewhere for just a few days. Then I will come straight to Naboo and we will all be together," Padmé reassured the sobbing child in her arms. "I can't wait to get home. It has been so long since I have seen everyone."
Balé buried her face in Padmé's neck. Her small shoulders were still heaving. "Will we ever see him again?" she asked miserably.
Padmé was good and ready to hunt Anakin down to the ends of the Galaxy. She just hadn't decided what she would do with him when she found him. "Yes," she said firmly. "We will."
She cuddled Balé for a long time until the child's sobs gradually died down.
"Can we look for Anakin before we go?" Balé asked in a small voice.
Padmé had been thinking along the same lines. "I'll ask Sabé to go look for him," she said. "But you have to understand that she may not find him. Even if he doesn't come to say goodbye, you have to leave on that transport tomorrow. Do you understand?"
Balé nodded unhappily.
Padmé took a long breath. As Anakin might say, the next part was the hard part. "Now, Balé," she said gently, "there is something very important you have to do for me. It's important for us all."
Balé loosened her hold on Padmé and sat back, wiping her soaking cheeks with the back of her arm. Padmé gave her a handkerchief, and waited until the little girl had dealt with her face and nose before continuing.
"Ready?" Padmé asked gently.
Balé nodded.
"The whole time you are on this trip, and even back on Naboo, until I arrive, you have to pretend that Sabé is me."
"A decoy," Balé said solemnly, and Padmé smiled. The child hadn't been raised by handmaidens for nothing.
"A decoy," she confirmed. "Exactly. I need Sabé to be my decoy because no one must know that I am somewhere else. And if my daughter acts like I'm really on the transport – well, then everyone will believe it. It's a simple as that."
Balé looked up at her through damp eyelashes.
"That's how Aunt Cordé was killed," she said. "She was pretending to be you."
Padmé's heart wrenched yet again, this time from guilt. She died for me. "I'm sorry, Balé." It was all she could think of to say. "I'm so sorry. If there were another way to do this, I would."
"Why does Sabé have to be a decoy?" Balé persisted stubbornly. "Why can't you just come?"
"I have to do something else first," Padmé said softly, grieving that she had arrived at a point where she was actually willing to tangle the child up in her own deceptions. "Something that other people might want to stop me from doing. But if you and Sabé and everyone else pretend that I'm on the transport with you, everything will be fine."
"Is Sabé going to die, too?" Balé asked, without looking at her.
"No!" Padmé heard herself almost shouting, and quickly took control again. "No one is going to die."
Of course there was fear in the child's eyes. Of course nothing she said could make it better now. What has this war brought me to? Padmé wondered. How much worse will this get?
"If Anakin was here, everything would be all right," Balé said sullenly. She still believed in him heart and soul, with a child's magical thinking.
Padmé slid down to her knees on the floor and wrapped her daughter in a heartfelt embrace.
"I know how you feel," she whispered. "I wish he were here, too."
* * * * *
Padmé stayed with Balé until the child finally drifted off to sleep. By the time she emerged from the bedroom Dormé was in a deep conversation with Captain Typho on one of the long sofas in the sitting room. They stopped talking the moment she entered. Sabé was nowhere to be seen.
"Confess your conspiracy," Padmé said tiredly, sinking into the nearest chair. "I'm in no mood for guessing games."
"My Lady," Captain Typho said, after glancing at Dormé, "I cannot permit you to travel to Alderaan on your own. It is the most dangerous thing you could do. It's unthinkable."
Padmé rubbed her eyes and changed the subject. "Where is Sabé?" she asked.
Captain Typho glowered. "My Lady," he began again, undeterred, "I must insist…."
He trailed off at Padmé's warning look. Dormé jumped in. "Sabé has gone to look for…" she looked nervously at Captain Typho, "to look for Anakin."
"She's always two steps ahead of me," Padmé sighed, looking at a faraway point known only to her.
Typho stood up. He looked furious. "My Lady, you must listen to me. If the Chancellor arranged for you to be on this transport, he will have spies aboard to make certain of it. It is madness for you to try to deceive him."
"We will not try, Captain," Padmé said. "We will succeed."
"My Lady!" Typho burst out, almost shouting. Padmé had never seen him lose his composure like this in all the years he had served her. "I forbid it!"
Dormé flinched, and glanced nervously at Padmé.
Padmé stood up as well. "I'm going to take that as an expression of care and concern, Captain. I understand your position. Perhaps you don't understand mine. I am going to Alderaan because I must. I am going alone because I must. I am involving my daughter in this deception because I must…" And here she stopped because her voice was starting to break. She paused to collect herself, and then gave the necessary orders. "Captain, please make all the arrangements with the Chancellor's staff for our party's transportation to Naboo. Dormé, come with me. It's time to pack."
Captain Typho bowed, a distant, stiff, formal bow that said more than any words could have. He would do as she asked, but he would not forgive her. Dormé hurried to Padmé's side, pale with distress and worry.
Padmé shot another quick prayer for strength to all the Gods of the Galaxy, even the ones she didn't know about, and went to work.
* * * * *
Since leaving the Temple Anakin had done an inordinate amount of skulking. Gone, apparently, were the days when, head high, he could stride into any situation and dominate the scene. He had enjoyed the authority his role in the Senate had given him. Pell's words kept bothering him: if you disappear … 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."
The feeling of being a ghost had grown worse since Anakin spent most of his time trying not to be noticed. It seemed that he was succeeding. He no longer had a home. And since most of his actions since walking out on Master Yoda, Master Windu and Obi-Wan in the Temple's healing center had been based on impulse rather than reason, he also didn't have a plan. It was clear that his time as a Jedi was behind him, but if the Order began to believe that he was a renegade, whatever life he had now wasn't worth much.
He didn't dare to present himself to the Chancellor. For all he knew Palpatine had written him off, if not for Zangan's death, then certainly for shirking his duty and not having come forward to face the consequences. "If yer not one of his any more," Pell had warned him,"I suggest ye clear out. Now. He won't tolerate any others."
Anakin wanted to find out where he stood, but not directly. That was where Pell came in. Anakin had spent the hours while he waited for Pell to report back to him – a whole night and the better part of another day – hiding in the Senate building itself. After months of designing and reinforcing the building's security systems he knew the vast edifice better than anyone, and hiding among the thousands of other Force signatures took some of the strain off him, even given the occasional Jedi presence in the building.
But he wouldn't be able to go on like this much longer.
And then there was Padmé, of course. As much as he had convinced himself to stay away from her she was never out of his thoughts. He couldn't even begin to fight it any more. He was exhausted from not having slept for some interminable period of time, and from having to keep his senses on alert constantly. He couldn't keep fighting in every direction at once indefinitely, and so as he tired his inner shielding faltered and she was once again right there, filling up his mind and his heart the way light instantly fills a room when a door is opened.
His priority was to find out whether Padmé had made plans to leave Coruscant yet, as he had warned her she must. The only plan he could formulate was to somehow follow her and watch over her from a distance. Beyond that he had no idea how to proceed.
Skulking was an exhausting way to live, and Anakin reckoned that if he didn't find some kind of shelter soon where he could let down his guard and get some sleep, he would be in trouble. It was time to find Pell. The man had been given enough time to find out what the Chancellor and the Naboo Delegation were up to.
Anakin emerged from his hiding place in the bowels of the Senate building behind the library, and began the long and perilous journey to the barracks level to find the Captain of the Senate Guard. He made his way systematically through each of the corridors and each of the spaces that he knew so well, using every trick he had ever mastered to remain unseen and unnoticed. He could feel his concentration slipping, though, which made everything twice as difficult. He needed to get out of here. His senses were turning into mud.
And then he felt a particular Force presence, and all of his strength and focus came back instantly. Perhaps it was battle-fever; perhaps it was the anger that shot through him like a wave, pushing and clearing away everything else but what it needed. Anakin had made it as far as the barracks level and wasn't far from Pell's office at the back of the large training room. But he had to get through that training room, and at the moment it was occupied by a few soldiers, Obi-Wan, and Lon Erian. The Jedi were speaking to a cluster of soldiers who had gathered around them. Anakin had no doubt that they were looking for him.
Master and Padawan, Anakin sneered to himself. How charming that they are here together.
If Obi-Wan was looking for him, then he obviously wanted to talk. He always wanted to talk. And if he wanted to talk it meant he was unsure of Anakin's intentions – he wouldn't have any way of knowing whether he was back here simply doing the job the Council had assigned him, or whether he was planning to bolt. But the fact that he had come looking for Anakin indicated that he feared the latter.
Anakin didn't have to stretch his imagination far to know what his former Master would say; he could practically have the conversation without him. He might have been willing to go through with the charade. But Lon's presence at Obi-Wan's side changed everything. Anakin figured that options boiled down to two: hide until they left, or bluff his way past them. He needed to see Pell. He had the nagging feeling that time was growing as short as his patience.
If he had been more honest with himself, Anakin might have understood that the choice he finally made to stride – yes, stride – into that training room was motivated by something other than the urgency to see Pell. Deep down he wanted to confront Obi-Wan, Lon or no Lon. And so he chose to make his presence known.
As his first move Anakin went straight over to the soldiers and ordered them out of the room. Accustomed as they were to obeying his commands, they disappeared quickly in the direction of Pell's office. For the briefest moment he enjoyed displaying his authority in front of his former Master, but Obi-Wan looked deeply unimpressed, so Anakin's pleasure was short-lived. Lon merely scowled.
"I have been looking for you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "I have to talk to you."
Anakin did not answer, but leveled his gaze at Lon. His expression was not a pleasant one. It said, without the need for any words, "Not with him here."
Lon bristled in every part of his being. His animosity was so overpowering that his new Master shot him a very familiar look of dismay and disapproval. Anakin almost laughed.
"At least you have the sense not to wear Jedi robes," Lon burst out. "You don't deserve them."
Anakin's brief urge toward laughter subsided instantly.
"Get your boy out of here, Kenobi. Now. Or I will remove him myself."
A look of hurt flashed across his former Master's face at the impersonal use of the name "Kenobi." It disappeared again almost instantly but Anakin had seen it, and felt satisfied. If this were to go any further he would depersonalize him completely and refer to him only as "Jedi." That was the way he was beginning to feel.
"Leave us, Lon," Obi-Wan ordered.
Lon didn't move. He kept staring at Anakin as though he wanted to attack him. Anakin found the offer tempting, but decided that it would be wiser to refrain from taking him up on it at the moment, given that he obviously knew better than Lon did what Kenobi's reaction would be. And Anakin, for one, didn't think that Lon was worth the time and effort the ensuing battle would cost him. He told himself that he had more important things to do. He did not entertain the thought that perhaps he did not want to face off against Kenobi, for a lot of reasons. And certainly not over Lon.
"Out," said Anakin to Lon.
"Go now," Obi-Wan ordered his Padawan for the second time.
With a bitter glance at Anakin, Lon turned on his heel without a further word. The trail of dark feelings he left in his wake was palpable.
"And that," said Anakin contemptuously, "is going to stand the Trials and become the next Jedi Knight?"
"Only if I decide he is ready," Obi- Wan said calmly. "The responsibility for making that determination has been placed in my hands."
"Why would you even take him on?" Anakin spat. "He is a hypocrite, and a coward."
"It is my duty," Obi-Wan said evenly. "I will do my duty and I will make my recommendations as I see fit."
"You'd better ask him about his attachments," Anakin said nastily. "Apparently your Padawans all have a weakness for the women of Naboo."
Obi-Wan looked unflinchingly into Anakin's eyes. "That comment is not worthy of you, Anakin. You are better than that."
A kick or a saber attack wouldn't have thrown Anakin off-balance as much as those words had. He had expected a confrontation, not … a connection. He rolled his eyes to cover up his sudden discomfort. "So why are you bothering with me? I'm not your duty any more."
"Because you are in trouble," Obi-Wan said simply. "Because you are in pain. And because I care what happens to you, even if you don't."
Blast you, Obi-Wan, Anakin thought inarticulately. Out loud he said, "Don't bother. You're wasting your time."
Obi-Wan ignored him. Just like always. "Don't do it, Anakin," he said, not allowing himself to diverted from his purpose. "Don't leave the Order like this. No one else knows – yet – what your intentions are. It's not too late to make everything right."
"You must be joking," Anakin retorted, knowing full well how serious his former Master was. Knowing how much he believed in what he was saying. "What do I have to go back to?"
"It depends on you, Anakin. Everything depends on you – on your willingness to do your duty. If you serve the Order, the Order will serve you. It's that simple."
"It is not that simple!" Anakin raged out of pent-up frustration. "Nothing is that simple! They don't trust me. They never have and they never will. It is pointless to go back!"
"You're wrong, Anakin!" Obi-Wan snapped. "I haven't given up on you. Master Yoda hasn't. Just come back and everything can be worked out." Then he softened. "Please, Anakin. Don't run away. And for your own sake, don't become a rogue. If you do that, not even I can help you."
The silence that formed between them was alive with feeling.
"You don't understand," Anakin finally said softly. "He already has found me."
Obi-Wan looked at him in dismay. He didn't have to ask whom Anakin meant. An almost visible darkness had appeared between them and around them as soon as Anakin spoke the words.
"You can't help me," Anakin went on in the same soft voice. "None of you can. The only thing I can do is disappear."
"Oh, Anakin, no," Obi-Wan whispered. He was about to say more when another voice sliced into their awareness from the far side of the training room.
"Skywalker!" The pair turned as one toward the voice, the fragile connection between them broken. It was Pell. The little Captain hurried across the room to Anakin.
"Yer'd better hurry," he barked without preamble or further explanation. "Landing Platform Six. Right about now. The whole Delegation."
Without a moment's hesitation Anakin bolted, leaving Obi-Wan and Pell alone together in the training room.
"Wait!" Pell called after him. "There's more!" But Anakin was long gone. One moment he was there, the next he had blasted past Lon where he was loitering just outside the training room door and disappeared down the corridor.
* * * * *
The bearded Jedi's hand shot out and caught Pell's arm in an unbreakable hold.
"Who?" he growled.
Pell hesitated. Betraying Skywalker was not on his agenda at the moment.
"Who is leaving?" the Jedi demanded again, igniting his lightsaber at the same time. He evidently was not in the mood for diplomacy.
"The Naboo delegation," Pell said reluctantly, eyeing the weapon. "All of 'em. Leavin' Coruscant right now."
"What else were you going to tell him?"
Pell assessed the Jedi in the plain brown cloak. It was dead certain from the look in his eyes that he didn't want to be argued with. Still, there would be Skywalker to account to.
"None of yer business," he said, bravely enough. "That's between him and me."
The Jedi's weapon was suddenly so close to his throat that Pell could feel its searing heat.
"Think again," the Jedi said. Pell decided instantly that it was time to move on. Even the Jedi were touchier than he had ever seen them. And maybe if he moved on quickly enough, Skywalker wouldn't find out that he'd given away his information to someone else.
That lightsaber blade was hot.
"The Chancellor," Pell said very reluctantly, as though the words were being singed out of him one by one. "He's goin' ter be on that same transport, but in secret. His office here is coverin' fer him."
The Jedi dropped Pell's arm but left his weapon ignited. It sizzled and hissed in the ensuing silence. It looked as though the Jedi had forgotten about him. Pell backed away slowly, then turned and headed back to his office as quickly as dignity combined with expedience would allow.
He looked back to see that the Jedi finally had disengaged his weapon and left in the direction that Skywalker had gone. The other one who had been lurking outside the training room had gone, too.
Good riddance, Pell thought, rubbing his neck
