Obi-Wan Kenobi looked around at the faces of the Jedi on his team, and then looked down at the floor of the Temple's main landing bay to give himself a short while to collect his thoughts and feelings into a coherent, manageable form. It had never been this difficult before. The Jedi stood before him in peaceful silence, waiting patiently for him to complete his train of thought.
He wished he could be anywhere but here. Never before in his life had he shirked a duty, nor would he now. But then, never before had he experienced such a profound sense of disjointedness, of discontinuity – of disharmony with the Force.
Everything felt wrong.
Once again, to his dismay, he doubted the wisdom of the Council's decision. Ever since the Council had decided to use Anakin as bait to draw out the Sith, doubt had nagged and worried him relentlessly. He felt an irrational urge to stub the toe of his boot on the floor, but stopped himself. Anakin had always done that.
His mission – the team's mission – was to find and shadow the convoy that carried the Naboo Delegation and the Chancellor, and to prevent any harm coming to Senator Amidala. That was all right. It was a proper mission for a single Jedi Knight, or for a Master and Padawan pair. It didn't warrant more than that.
Obi-Wan looked up and allowed his eyes to range over the three faces before him. They continued to wait patiently for him to speak. They would wait indefinitely, if asked. They were Jedi. And there were far too many of them.
Including himself they were four on the platform, and Tec Andros was already on Naboo undercover. It didn't take five Jedi to protect a Senator and her Delegation. Obi-Wan thought back and tried to remember the last time he had participated in a team so large. Five Jedi were sent to settle an interplanetary civil war. Six or more were dispatched when a ground battle was expected. But there was no evidence that Naboo would be the location of the next large military engagement in the war.
No, the second part of their mission really had to do with only one person – Anakin. They were to ensure that he did not turn rogue; or if he already had, to…. Obi-Wan scowled. Surely the Council didn't think Anakin was dangerous enough to necessitate …this?
On the other hand, no one, not even Master Yoda, could anticipate what awaited his team on Naboo. Separatist activity had increased markedly in that Sector recently, but neither the Temple nor the Senate analysts had been able to determine why. There was no rational pattern to their attacks; no known goal. It was guerilla warfare without an apparent purpose other than provocation.
In the same way that there were holes in their intelligence, there were holes in their perceptions. Big, dark, empty spaces appeared where there should have been light and understanding. The Jedi's personal capabilities and skills did not seem to be affected, but their ability to see through the Force, to divine the larger patterns in events and occurrences, was compromised so badly that by now their decision-making was probably no better than that of the non-Force-sensitive.
And so he doubted.
Obi-Wan studied the faces in front of him. Lon's blue eyes were sparkling with energy and anticipation. Obi-Wan felt a sudden, unreasonable stab of longing – of wishing that he shared the young man's youth and enthusiasm. Most of all, he wished that he shared Lon's unswerving faith that what they were doing was right and just.
Master Medulla, on the other hand, carried himself with an unfailing serenity that reminded Obi-Wan of Master Yoda's. His scholarly demeanor made it easy to forget that he was as reliable in combat as any other Jedi Master. Obi-Wan wished there had been more opportunity to discuss his doubts and concerns with Master Medulla, but their mission had been pulled together in record time. And now they must go.
His eyes moved on to the young, round face directly in front of him, and lingered.
The final straw had been the Council's insistence that he bring this child with him on this mission. At sixteen, Poulin Brith was no crècheling, but he was not yet capable of handling himself alone in a combat situation. Unlike Anakin at that age, he also was not qualified as a fighter pilot, so his presence completely changed the mission's logistics. Even though Master Medulla was part of the team as well and would be there to look after him, Obi-Wan saw the boy's presence as a liability rather than an asset.
"Why, Mace?" Obi-Wan had demanded. "Why must I include Master Medulla and his Padawan – above all, why the child? Lon and I can handle this alone. And with Tec already there we will have everyone we need. Tec is a team all by himself."
Mace's face had been stony and unreadable. "Together Master Medulla and young Brith are the Temple's leading experts on the Sith," he had said evenly. When Obi-Wan had continued to glare at him in silence, he had added, "The boy is Anakin's friend. You may find his presence to be an advantage after all."
Obi-Wan fought against frustration and despair. The Jedi Council was sending half a regiment after Anakin, without knowing with any certainty what his status was. They were willing to destroy him on the strength of a threat; and he, Anakin's former Master, had been given the task not only of passing sentence on Anakin if it should become necessary, but of carrying it out. In the midst of all that, how did the Council imagine that this child's presence might make a difference? Obi-Wan didn't even know whether the boy had been told the full details of this unsavory undertaking.
Everything felt wrong. In a bizarre way, Obi-Wan was glad that this mission had been given to him rather than to anyone else. Maybe he could keep it from going out of control – from spinning itself toward its darkest possible end. It was the only solace that he could find at the moment.
"Master Kenobi?" A voice like gravel and silk broke into his thoughts and Mace Windu appeared from the shadows of the landing bay. "I will join your team."
Obi-Wan's last shred of optimism disappeared like a wisp of smoke. This is insane. It took everything he had not to flinch, to protest, to shout his objections to the skies. What is the Council doing? Five were already assigned. Why this? "Is this strictly necessary, Master Windu?" he said calmly, holding himself together with fierce control. "The team is too large as it is."
"My presence is thought to be required," Mace said unequivocally. "The team remains under your command. Carry on."
Obi-Wan had the sudden, sickening feeling that Mace was there not so much for Anakin, but for him – to support him, whatever came. To ensure that he did his duty. They don't trust me where Anakin is concerned, came a wild, unbidden thought. He throttled it at once.
Everything felt wrong.
Keeping an iron grip on his conflicting feelings, Obi-Wan finally addressed the group with their orders. "Military logs tell us that the Task Force is scheduled to arrive in the Naboo Sector in twenty hours, but its exact exit coordinates from hyperspace are not known to us. Our fastest possible course to the Sector will get us there in fifteen hours – that gives us a short time after our arrival to locate the convoy. When we do, we are to shadow it to Naboo."
He paused for breath and made his final decision. Looking straight at Master Medulla, Obi-Wan stipulated, "Poulin will fly with me in the small armed transport. You, Lon and Master Windu will man the starfighters. Agreed?"
Obi-Wan saw Master Medulla glance toward his Padawan with a brief, reassuring smile before nodding gravely. The boy smiled back at his Master in a way that aroused in Obi-Wan an overwhelming and very unhelpful pang of grief and loss.
Lon also nodded tersely, all eagerness and anticipation.
Mace towered silently behind the group and merely inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.
"Very well, then," Obi-Wan concluded, successfully hiding his pitched battle with his feelings, "May the Force be with us."
May it, indeed.
* * * * *
Balé stared at Sabé with huge eyes. "And then what happened?"
"Well," Sabé said carefully, "because someone was trying to kill Padmé, and no one knew who it was or when they might try again, she was given special protection by the Jedi." Sabé grinned at her charge. "If you need protection, that's definitely the best kind to have."
"Was it Anakin?" Balé asked eagerly.
"Yes," Sabé said. "Yes, it was. He accompanied her back to Naboo until the" …she searched for a word that would not sound too horrible... "until the bad people could be found and stopped." Sabé paused and made a snap decision to leave out certain twists and turns in the story that didn't directly connect with her purpose. It was better not to add too much confusion. "They grew to like each other a lot."
Balé nodded eagerly, hanging on every word.
"Then they found out that Anakin's Master was in trouble on a planet called Geonosis. They hurried there to see if they could help him. They did, but then there was a huge battle, and Padmé and Anakin were right in the middle of it, fighting together."
"Anakin used his lightsaber," Balé said eagerly. She jumped up in bed and demonstrated a few hair-raising leaps and thrusts, making Sabé laugh.
"Yes, he did," she agreed, and waited for the demonstration to subside before she went on. "And Padmé is very good with a blaster. But it was during that great battle that Anakin lost his arm."
Balé's face grew serious. "Did it hurt?"
"I imagine it did," Sabé said gently. "But he was very brave. And then he was given his golden arm, and learned to use that just as well as the one he lost." She quickly moved the story along to brighter moments. "And then it was time for Padmé – and for you – to go back to Naboo, and again, Anakin was there for protection."
Balé looked down, and Sabé quickly reached for her hands, knowing full well what the child must be remembering.
"He did protect me," Balé whispered. "From that shiny man…"
Sabé mind flashed back to the dimly lit bridge of the Queen's Yacht. Once again she saw the tall D'laian holding the little girl hostage with a dagger to her throat, taunting Anakin … she heard Balé scream … and then suddenly Wolan wasn't holding on to the child any longer because he was choking. Impulsively she gathered Balé onto her lap and hugged her. "Yes, he did," she agreed fervently. "He wouldn't ever let anything happen to you…"
"He protected everybody," Balé said.
Sabé sighed. This story was forever running out of bright moments. It was time to move it along again. "And then we all came back to Naboo, and Anakin stayed for a while. Do you remember?"
"He showed me how to climb trees," Balé said, a little more cheerfully. "And he used to make me fly … and we made the food in the Palace kitchen dance to scare the cooks."
Sabé raised her eyebrows and wondered what other mischief had taken place, but resolutely kept on with her story.
"Yes. And he and Padmé fell in love."
Balé was silent, mulling it all over. Sabé wondered briefly what the concept of "falling in love" might mean to a child, but persevered. "But Jedi are not allowed to love."
Balé looked up at her with a frown. "Why?"
"It's one of their rules. They help everyone, but they don't have any special people of their own. It's just their way."
"But he does love Padmé," Balé insisted. "I know he does."
"Yes," Sabé agreed. "And he loves you, too. So…he did something he wasn't supposed to do. Something strictly forbidden. They both did, really."
The child's eyes got even bigger.
"Padmé did something…something forbidden?" Balé breathed, completely fascinated. Apparently it wasn't as difficult to believe it of Anakin. "What did they do?" She was clearly bursting with excitement.
Here it comes, Sabé thought. "They got married," she announced solemnly. "Secretly. They weren't allowed to, but they did it anyway. It's still a secret. Nobody else knows except me … and now you know it, too."
A strangled gasp behind her made Sabé whirl around to see Dormé standing in the doorway with a look of shock on her face, clutching the door frame as though it was the only thing holding her up.
"Well," Sabé added, looking pointedly in Dormé's direction, "Dormé knows, too. But we are the only ones, and no one else must know. Not even Captain Typho."
"They got married?" Balé squealed, having finally taken it in.
"Yes," Sabé confirmed. "They got married. They have been married since we were all on Naboo together."
"But he went away," Balé protested, confused. "He went back to Coruscant and he was gone for ages and Padmé never saw him."
"I know," Sabé soothed. "That's not because he wanted to be away. It's because he had to. But he came back as soon as he could."
"Why can't he just stay with us?" Balé asked, frowning again.
Sabé glanced at Dormé again to see how she was doing. The poor woman looked as if she were going to faint. Sabé decided to hurry the story along yet again.
"Parents can't always be with their children, Balé, even though they want to very, very much. But parents don't leave their children willingly. Sometimes things happen that take them away for a while, but they always come back as soon as they can." Sabé paused, holding the child gently. "Your birth parents died in a terrible accident, so they couldn't come back to you. But you have new parents who love you, and they are alive. They will come back – especially people like Padmé and Anakin, who fight huge battles and take big risks for the people they love. They haven't abandoned you, sweetheart. They are coming back to you. You have to believe that."
"Parents?" Balé said, hesitantly. She obviously had been grappling with that single concept throughout Sabé's long speech.
"Yes, Balé, parents," Sabé said decidedly. "They were already married when Padmé adopted you, so Anakin is … well, he's your father."
There was a soft thud behind her as Dormé's knees gave way and she slid suddenly to the floor in a dead faint.
* * * * *
Anakin stared at the gray streaks outside the viewscreen and tried to block out of his consciousness what he knew to be true. He told himself that he was close to winning. He had found a way out and only needed to do this one thing before he and Padmé and Balé could leave all of this behind. He tried hard to disregard the fact that he could feel the dark presence out there in the Galaxy beyond as clearly as he could sense Padmé's Force signature by his side on the Defiance. That sinister …consciousness…was pulling at him, and he was positive that it was somehow linked with the task force. Why else would he know with absolute certainty where they were headed? The ever-changing coordinates of the convoy were like a data stream in his head.
Once again, as he had every few minutes for the past four hours, Anakin glanced over at Padmé, who still sat in the co-pilot's seat as rigidly as a thickly stuffed doll. Her back was straight, her knuckles were white, and she stared straight ahead, although there was nothing to see out of the viewscreen but gray streaks. He had tried talking to her, reassuring her, although he had no real reassurances to offer; but she had hardly responded. She still looked cold, even though he had brought a blanket to tuck around her. It was very hard for him to see her like this, but experiencing her mental and emotional pain through the Force was much worse. It was not much different from the pain he had experienced from Obi-Wan's broken ribs. Unfortunately, it was more difficult to heal than mere bone.
He was sorely tempted to physically grab Padmé and shake her to get her attention. If their roles were reversed, she probably would have dumped him back onto the cold floor by now… but he wouldn't do that. It would be easy to cut himself off from the experience of her pain by shielding himself from her in the Force, but he wouldn't do that either. He could only hover nearby and make sure she was warm, and try to support her with his own prodigious energies, and wait.
He hated waiting.
Eight more hours to the Naboo Sector. The astromech droid that Bail Organa had sent stood silently behind Anakin in the tiny cockpit, a constant reminder of the tangled mess Padmé had gotten herself into, and of many unknown dangers they faced ahead.
Padmé, the message had said, we have been discovered.
He had known that Padmé would do something to oppose Chancellor Palpatine. She had as much as told him. And he had vowed that he would protect her no matter what choices she made. Anakin found that the more he learned about the Galaxy's politics, the less he cared about them.
His long months in the Senate had taught him that the Republic was nothing but a collection of corrupt individuals locked in a power struggle, where only the strong could afford to have principles. If he thought about it at all, he was beginning to despise the whole mess.
Anakin glanced over at Padmé again. She still hadn't moved.
Padmé cared about politics. She cared about the Republic. She cared so much about defending what she thought was right that she would throw her life away if she thought it would do some good, and he was evidently helpless to stop her. But she was devastated by the danger in which she had placed her loved ones.
Well, Anakin wasn't going to let anything happen to her. And he wasn't going to let anything happen to Balé, even if it meant he had to go toward the darkness rather than away from it. He reflexively checked the flight computer again, although it was completely unnecessary. He could picture their trajectory and their destination with perfect clarity. Thanks to the powerful pull from beyond he could sense in every part of his being the constant closing of the distance between the Defiance and the convoy. There was nothing to do but think.
Anakin hated being alone with his thoughts. They were like demons, writhing out of his soul and circling him with malicious intent.
He once had been much like Padmé when it came to the Jedi Order and all that it stood for. He had trusted the Jedi and believed with all his heart that they knew the right way – that the Order represented the best of the Galaxy and stood for justice and freedom. The idea of dying in the course of duty for something that noble, that …right…made sense. And yet at Geonosis they had walked into a trap and suffered horrific losses against a powerful enemy, and in his mind the Order no longer had seemed as invincible as he had thought it to be.
There was something out there that was more powerful than the Jedi. Something they feared. Anakin looked out the viewscreen and didn't even see the gray streaks any more. He saw only darkness.
There is no fear, there is only serenity.
That was a lie. The Jedi were afraid, all right, and as far as he was concerned, they had reason to be. He had been touched by that dark thing that they feared. In his bitter experience it did not allow itself to be opposed. If the whole Jedi Order couldn't even find it, much less prevail against it, what exactly did they want from him?
Draw the darkness out into the light, Master Yoda had said. You are the only one who can do this, Obi-Wan had said.
The Jedi had no idea what they were doing. They were weak, and growing weaker by the day. That dark consciousness wasn't afraid of anything, and it was powerful beyond imagining.
"Padmé," Anakin said urgently. Being alone with his thoughts had suddenly become unbearable. "Padmé!" he said again, and when she did not respond, he shook her shoulder gently. He needed to bring her attention back where it belonged – back to him.
This time she turned her face toward him. He reached over and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Are you cold? Do you need more blankets?" She shook her head faintly. He didn't believe her. She was freezing. She just didn't care. Anakin understood exactly how she felt – only days ago he had felt the same way. But that was then.
"Listen," he finally said, firmly, "you didn't do anything wrong. That convoy was targeted for attack whether you were on it or not. At least this way we can fight back." Padmé didn't answer, but her eyes were as black as the spaces between the stars, and full of despair and longing.
"The convoy was meant to be safe," she finally whispered. "I was the only one taking risks."
At least she was talking to him. That was progress. "You have to get warm," Anakin insisted, feeling more energized the more he took charge. "You have to eat something, and then we're going to get some sleep. We'll be there in less than eight hours, and we have to be ready to protect what is ours." He looked at her intently. "By any means."
After a long pause Padmé finally nodded and allowed Anakin to pull her up out of the copilot's seat and guide her back to the cabin, to hot food, and to bed.
Once again, Anakin looked forward with relief to a battle with any enemy that could be seen. Anything was better than his ongoing struggle against the dark presence that lurked in the shadows of his mind.
