Chapter 30. Into the Unknown

When Anakin showed off his newly purchased ship to Padmé he did it with the air of a proud father. She couldn't help being amused. He had chosen well – it looked built for business. The interior spaces were minimal and anything but luxurious, but the ship's specifications were surprising.

"Three laser canons and two ion cannons in something this size?" Padmé asked in disbelief.

Anakin beamed. "Wait until you see how she handles …"

Padmé shook her head. "How are we going to get off Coruscant without filing a flight plan?"

"I filed a flight plan," Anakin said innocently, loading the rest of her luggage into the storage compartments. "Of course I filed a flight plan."

"I don't want to know," Padmé decided.

"No," Anakin agreed, "you don't."

"It's cold in here," Padmé said, rubbing her hands together. "We need to re-set the environmental controls."

"Ummm…" Anakin's hesitation was noticeable. "There's just one small problem."

Padmé gave him The Look.

"The last owner was a smuggler," he confessed. "I wasn't told what his cargo was, but he kept it cold. Really cold. I didn't have time to modify the temperature controls to suit humans."

Padmé stared at him in disbelief. "Are you telling me that it doesn't get any warmer than this?"

"Colder, actually, once we get into space," Anakin said cheerfully.

"Why doesn't that seem to bother you?" Padmé asked suspiciously. "You're not known for liking the cold."

"Because" Anakin said, sinking into the pilot's seat and beginning his takeoff checklist, "there is really only one way we can stay warm on this trip."

He was up to something. Padmé crossed her arms and remained standing beside him. "And what might that be?"

"We'll have to stay in bed the whole time," he grinned, and went happily on with his work.

* * * * *

Padmé sighed and shifted restlessly. There was no doubt that it was warm and cozy with the two of them huddled together in the single bunk in the main cabin of the Defiance under the many arctic-quality blankets that Anakin had thoughtfully provided. Still, she couldn't help wondering how much time it really would have taken to retool the environmental controls.

It was wonderful to see Anakin so carefree and enthusiastic, and it was deeply reassuring not to be able to move in any direction without feeling him right there beside her. In fact, when one moved the other one generally had to as well because the bunk was not exceptionally large, and Anakin managed to take up amazing amounts of room.

Still, Anakin's unbelievable ability to focus only on what he wanted to and to block out everything else was beginning to exasperate her. They had talked for hours, but never once had he brought up the things that still worried her – his as yet unexplained disappearance, for one thing; and the fact that he was clearly a fugitive, for another. Padmé reflected on the fact that he had not mentioned the Jedi Order, or anyone in it, since they had found one another again. And most notably of all, he had not asked her a single question about their journey or what she planned to do on Alderaan. He was acting as though they were on a pleasure cruise.

Padmé smiled to herself. Well, there was that … but she was not prepared to go on as though nothing had happened. She knew he would continue to evade her questions if she persisted in cross-examining him. Something had to be done to get his attention.

"Anakin?" Padmé said into the idle and pleasant silence that had followed a long conversation about anything and everything except the things that were bothering her most.

"Yes?"

"I've been wondering about something. In hand-to hand combat, if I were pinned down by a superior foe, what would be the best move for freeing myself?

Anakin looked over at her in some surprise, evidently bemused by the change of subject. But he did his best to answer the question adequately, and showed her a few holds.

Right, Padmé thought, and rolling onto her side, took up one of the positions that he had suggested and flipped her unsuspecting husband, companion and protector off the small cabin's bunk. The dull clang of his metal hand smashing into the bulkhead was followed immediately by the thud of a large body hitting the floor. Quickly she snatched back the blankets that had gone with him, leaving a stunned Anakin unprotected on the cold cabin floor.

Padmé crept to the edge of the bunk and peered over it, then rested her chin on her hands to watch him, genuinely surprised at her own success. Perhaps comfort and trust in her had dulled his Jedi perceptions. She felt a twinge of guilt, but brushed it aside.

"Ow," said Anakin, as an afterthought.

"You were right," Padmé said coolly. "It worked perfectly."

Anakin, who had landed awkwardly on his right side, rolled onto his back and looked at her in amazement.

"What was that for?"

"Consider yourself evicted from my bed."

"I got that. I'm just wondering why?"

"I'm fed up with your making decisions without consulting me, about things that concern both of us. I'm your wife, Skywalker. You need to learn what that means. It means that we make major decisions together, in consultation. You don't get to decide by yourself."

Anakin sat up, rotated his right shoulder once or twice to loosen it up, and shook his head. "Fine," he said, grabbing the edge of the bunk to pull himself up onto it. "Have it your way."

"No," Padmé said, slapping his hands away. "You're still evicted."

"Why?" he demanded, plopping back down onto the icy floor.

"You don't get off that easily. You still owe me a proper apology for disappearing and for disappointing Balé."

Anakin sat back and rolled his eyes. "You're still mad about that?"

"Now and forever," Padmé said. "You'll have to work really hard to make it up to me."

"And to make it back into your bed," Anakin pointed out, looking longingly at it.

"Exactly," she agreed.

He stared into her eyes. "What do I have to do?"

"You have to apologize. You have to come up with the most magnificent apology the Galaxy has ever known, and then you have to deliver it to me with true penitence and sincerity."

"All right," Anakin agreed, pouring all the intensity he could muster into a smoldering gaze that was doubtless intended to distract from the fact that he was sidling toward the bunk bit by bit.

"And you have to swear by anything that is sacred to you that you will never do it again, and that from now on we will make all major decisions together. Even the hard ones. Especially the hard ones."

"That would be you," Anakin said. "You are more sacred to me than anything." He continued to creep closer, as unobtrusively as possible. His eyes never left Padmé's.

"Flattery is unacceptable," Padmé said, holding his burning gaze with perfect ease. "Only sincere penitence and sacred oaths will do."

"Agreed," he said, undaunted. He was almost in the perfect position to spring.

"Anakin?" his wife said.

"Yes?" 

"Any attempts to overpower me or dominate this situation will result in a banishment the likes of which you can't imagine." Padmé hadn't moved at all, or dropped her gaze. Now she leaned forward, bringing her face temptingly into the range of his. "Is that what you really want? Because I can arrange it."

He stopped where he was, and sighed.

"Are you aware," he said meekly, "that you are more powerful than the whole Jedi Order put together?"

A corner of her mouth started to twitch. "Why do you say that?"

"Because unlike the Jedi Order, you can get me to do anything you ask. Anything."

Interesting, Padmé thought. His cryptic comment was his first mention of the Jedi, and it raised a good many questions in her mind. But curiosity must not be allowed to divert from her immediate purpose.

"Just to get back into my bed?" Padmé asked sweetly.

"No." Anakin leaned forward until his forehead was touching hers. "Not just for that. Because I can't bear to let you down." He slid further until his cheek was against hers. "Because I don't want to disappoint you." He turned his head so that his mouth was close to hers. "Because life without you just isn't worthwhile."

With a major effort of will Padmé remained where she was and reminded him of the conditions. "You have to promise not to make any more decisions like that on your own."

"I promise." His face didn't move away from hers.

"I think you had better come up here," Padmé whispered. "You're getting cold."

Anakin crept back into the bunk and she pulled the blankets over him. He didn't show the slightest sign of holding her rough treatment of him against her, but simply huddled gratefully into her warmth. Padmé wondered despairingly how much harshness he had already endured in his life, to accept it so unquestioningly – even from her, even in play – and hugged him guiltily.

"What about the apology?" Anakin murmured. "Something like that will take some time to come up with."

"I'll let you think about it for a while," Padmé said into his neck. "But it had better be good."

She held him tightly in an outpouring of love, forgiveness, and gratitude. She had no doubt that Anakin would strive to honor her demand, even if it had been primarily made to provoke him. He was good and honorable. He hadn't meant to hurt her. And Padmé knew with absolute certainty that as long as he breathed, he would keep her safe.

* * * * *

Padmé thought she must have dozed off without realizing it, because all of a sudden Anakin was leaning over her and tucking the thick blankets around her securely. He had thrown on a few layers of clothes against the interminable chill in the spacecraft.

"Padmé," he said softly. "Come with me."

"Come where?" Padmé blinked, making sure she knew where she was. Yes, they were definitely on the ship. It was tiny. There was no place to go. Before she could protest she felt herself now entirely bundled up warmly in the blankets and being lifted into his arms. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he said. "I just want you to see something."

"Where …" she began, and then decided simply to wait and see what he was up to. You never could tell, with Anakin. He carried her carefully into the tiny cockpit, maneuvering her skillfully through the narrow blast door without bumping her against anything, and sank down into the pilots' seat with her in his lap. Keeping the arm that was holding up the blankets firmly around her, he reached over his head to the flight computer with the other. Outside the viewscreen Padmé could only see the streaks of gray that meant they were in hyperspace. She couldn't imagine what Anakin was doing, but contented herself with watching him with interest. She was grateful for the blankets – the cabin air was cold on her uncovered neck and face.

Anakin finished making his entries into the flight computer and then leaned over her to adjust the controls. Immediately the streaks of gray began to shorten and widen and the ship slowed, and suddenly the viewscreen was full of stars. The contrast was so startling that Padmé glanced at the readouts to assure herself that they were not at a complete standstill.

"Why did you drop out of light speed?" she asked, very curious by now.

Anakin leaned back comfortably and settled Padmé and her blankets in both arms.

"I just wanted to see the stars," he said. "I've been wanting to for a long time." Then he thought to reassure her about the journey. "Don't worry. It won't take much time out of our flight plan."

Padmé settled back against him and joined him in contemplating the panorama of dark and light outside their tiny ship. She tried to see what he was seeing, and to understand why he wanted her to see them, too.

Taking time out to see the stars. Life with Anakin was nothing if not interesting. Padmé's mind drifted into imagining what other surprises might await her if only they could spend more time together … just being. Her thoughts wandered over the past year, adding up the duties and obligations and priorities and demands that had kept them apart. From her perspective now, huddled in Anakin's lap in a freezing starship, looking out at the seemingly infinite Galaxy, all those vital obligations and events seemed to merge together, their details and their importance forgotten. Her brightest and most treasured memories dwelt on the precious little time she had spent in Anakin's company.

"There are so many of them," she said, inadequately, after a while. She wasn't really thinking about the multitudes of stars. She was thinking about the multitudes of choices that she had taken that took her away from her heart's desire, and wondering why they all had seemed so important at the time – important enough to keep the joys of life waiting indefinitely.

"Once I imagined that I would eventually visit every one of them," Anakin said. He was still wholly engaged in looking at the stars. "I wanted to know them all. I've missed seeing them."

"I don't know this sector well," Padmé said, idly. "I don't even know what we are looking at."

"Does it matter?" Anakin asked. "Every one of them is a new possibility."  There was something in his voice – a tone, or a quality – that caught Padmé's attention.

"I suppose not," she agreed carefully, not wanting to say too much. She had the feeling that Anakin was on his way somewhere with a particular thought, and she wanted to know where he was going.

"There are even more stars beyond the Galaxy," Anakin said after a while. "They just go on and on forever."

Padmé nestled closer to him and waited.

"Out there somewhere is a place that is beyond anyone's reach," Anakin said.

Padmé's heart began to beat a little faster. She wondered whether he was finally getting ready to tell her what he was fleeing.

"Suppose …" he began again, and then paused. Padmé waited. "Suppose we just kept going until we left the Galaxy behind. Until we left everything behind and found a place to live where no one knows us or cares where we came from – a place that's just for us."

Padmé swallowed hard. "You mean … run away?  Just the two of us?"

He hugged her close. "Yes."

The idea shocked Padmé. She tried to picture herself leaving behind all the people she cared about and all of the responsibilities she had taken on – more than that, all of her ideals. Aspirations. Tasks. Suddenly they all seemed terribly important again. Did he really expect her to abandon everything that was known and familiar?

"By ourselves?  With no one else?" Abandon everyone … "Without Balé?"

Anakin shifted uncomfortably, as though from a sudden jolt.

"With Balé," he said decidedly. "We could go back to Naboo and get her, and then just leave – take her some place where she can be safe. We could raise her in freedom, away from the war, away from … everything." 

He still wasn't giving his fear a name.

Horrified as she initially had been by the idea, Padmé found to her surprise that something about it touched a spark inside of her. Her mind kept forming images of Balé and Anakin and herself, safe somewhere. Working. Playing. Laughing. Happy.

"I wouldn't have to put her in danger any more …" she whispered. The guilt gnawed at her relentlessly.

"We could raise a family," Anakin said dreamily. "Somewhere safe. We could have more children – lots of them."

Padmé saw bright images in the vision, but she also saw shadows. "Our children would never know who they were," she said wistfully. Her identity as a Naboo was central to her life. "They would never know where they came from."

Anakin, who had never really belonged anywhere, saw it with different eyes. "We would teach them," he said firmly. "We could give them a life where they have choices – and some day they could choose to come back here. We all could."

"When the war is over," Padmé said sadly. "When true democracy is restored …"

"When he is gone …" Anakin said so softly that Padmé wasn't sure she had heard him correctly over the low thrumming of the engines.

"Who, Anakin?  When who is gone?"

He shook his head slightly and fell silent. They huddled together, surrounded by millions of stars.

"Come away with me," Anakin said into the darkness.

Padmé was having a hard time envisioning her way out of her attachments and her responsibilities. In so many ways they defined her. She could hardly imagine who she might be without them.

"If I don't go, will you?" she asked forlornly.

"No. If you don't want to go, I will stay here with you, whatever comes."

"But you're running from something, Anakin. You won't tell me what it is, but I know that it terrifies you. If you have to go – then maybe you should."

"Don't you see?" he sighed. "That's what I have been doing – that's why I disappeared. But I just can't do it any more. When you walked into your apartment while I was there I knew I just couldn't stay away any more." He grinned down at her – a somewhat pained, definitely lopsided grin. "It's hopeless."

Alderaan was out there somewhere, not far away, Padmé realized. Alderaan and all it represented. Could she really run away from that?  She turned away from the stars and buried her face in Anakin's shoulder. Would her presence at the meeting really matter?  Bail was so solid, so reliable. Surely he and the others could carry on without her.

"Anakin," she said, her voice muffled. "Do you know why I'm going to Alderaan?"

"I don't want to know."

"What?" Padmé turned her head and looked up at him. "Why?'

"I'm serious," Anakin said. "The less I know, the better. Don't tell me anything, and I won't ask."

He is so afraid, Padmé thought. He is afraid for us all.

Padmé fell silent again. Maybe it was time she stopped thinking that she was the only one who could accomplish anything. Was it true?  Or was she merely blinded by some kind of pride?

I can't let Bail down, though, she thought. I told him that I would be there, and I must.

And after that? What then? More meetings. The stars knew what action would need to be taken. There would be more dangers for everyone close to her.  More battles to be fought.  More to lose.

"Once I am finished on Alderaan," Padmé asked finally, hesitantly, "how long will it take us to get to Naboo?"

Anakin reached above his head again to enter some calculations into the flight computer.

"Pretty close to two days. Maybe a bit less. Alderaan is in still in the Core."

"We could arrive soon after the convoy," Padmé speculated.

Anakin thought about it. "Before, if I push it. This ship is pretty fast."

"Once we got Balé, where would we go?" Padmé wondered.

She felt Anakin startle, as though he had not really expected her to say anything but an unequivocal "no," and then his Wookiee-hug nearly crushed her. "Are you serious?" he asked gruffly. "Are you really considering giving up everything and coming away with me?"

"Not forever," Padmé gasped. "I couldn't do that. But for now … for the duration of the War … I still feel duty bound. I always will. But that duty is putting everyone I love in danger – Balé, my family, you … it's killing me. It's not like me to run away. But I can't keep endangering everyone."

She looked up at Anakin and was stunned to see silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Ignoring the cold, she untangled her arms from the blankets and wrapped them around his neck. She held him wordlessly for a long time, marveling at her power to make him happy, to give him some kind of ease. She had always felt that she stood between him and his dream of becoming a Jedi Knight. I matter to him, she thought in wonder. I matter as much to him as he does to me.

"Anakin," she whispered after a while, "do you think it is wrong to give up duty for personal happiness?"

"I don't know," he said, wiping his face with the back of his free hand. "All I know is that when I try to do the right thing – the noble thing – it ends up hurting you, and hurting me, and hurting Balé. Maybe if for once we tried to do something because it makes up happy – because we do it for love – then we will end up doing the right thing."

That's it, Padmé thought. That is exactly it.

Out loud she said, "This is crazy."

"Name one thing that makes sense any more." Anakin said, tucking her frozen arms back into the blankets and settling them more firmly around her.

"Family," Padmé said after giving it serious thought. "Family makes sense."

Anakin sighed and rested his cheek against hers, only to pull back suddenly. "You're cold," he said. "Let me take you back to bed."

He scooped her up again. Over his shoulder as he carried her out of the cockpit Padmé took another long, speculative look at the stars outside, and wondered.