Chapter 33. Crossing the Threshold (Part I)
Peaceful, Obi-Wan thought. That's what the child was – peaceful. He surreptitiously watched Master Medulla's Padawan sigh and shift slightly in his seat in the six-passenger transport as he changed the settings on his datapad and continued to read. The boy had not exchanged a word for hours, and yet he seemed completely content. He had not begun a conversation or asked a question or requested any kind of attention at all. He merely had accepted the proffered seat, made certain that he was not needed for anything, and buried himself in his reading. His Force presence showed clearly that the boy was as harmonious on the inside as he appeared on the outside. It was remarkable.
Obi-Wan brought his focus back to his responsibilities. There was no point in reflecting too far on the past – on comparing his outings with Anakin to this journey with Poulin Brith. Anakin had forever been restless, curious, and talkative. He had questioned everything. He had demanded attention all the time. Poulin couldn't have been more different. Obi-Wan became concerned that, if he didn't offer to feed the boy who was now under his care, he would never ask to eat.
"Are you hungry, Poulin?" he asked gently, breaking into a silence of several hours.
The boy looked up. "A little, Master Kenobi."
"Let's have something to eat now. It's a good time. We'll be leaving hyperspace soon."
"As you wish, Master Kenobi," Poulin agreed, putting down his datapad.
Obi-Wan pulled out their rations and divided them unequally, giving the larger portion to the boy. They ate in companionable silence while Obi-Wan pondered how best to start a conversation. He had to find out how much Poulin knew about their mission. But where to begin?
"I understand that you are quite close to Anakin," he finally ventured. "How long have you been friends?" It was an awkward beginning, but he would wager that out of politeness and caution the boy would meet him halfway. He was right.
"Since he returned to the Temple from Naboo," Poulin answered respectfully after finishing a morsel of food. He glanced quickly up at Obi-Wan through thick dark eyelashes, adding, "He befriended me, actually."
"Oh?" Obi-Wan asked neutrally, hoping the single syllable showed enough interest to encourage the boy to continue in his own way. Apparently, it did.
"He helped me in a saber class," Poulin went on easily. "He's really good."
Obi-Wan smiled. "That he is." Poulin smiled back, just a little. The atmosphere eased.
After a short pause Obi-Wan probed further. "I'm curious. What did you find in common? I mean, Anakin is a few years older than you are…"
Poulin looked down. "I don't think he had many friends in the Temple then," he said with perfect honesty. "There were a lot of people who were angry that he had been allowed to come back after…well, you know." Obi-Wan nodded his acknowledgement. Poulin seemed to take it as a sign that it was all right to continue. "I didn't have too many friends, either," he admitted. "Anakin always treated me like – well, like someone closer to his age. He talked to me, you know? He told me about things."
Anakin hardly spoke to me at all during that time, Obi-Wan reflected, and found some small comfort in the fact that Anakin had found at least one friend. He was about to make another innocuous, conversational remark when something in the boy's Force signature gave him pause. Poulin was holding back. The indications were quite clear. If this conversation had taken place in a Temple refectory or some other neutral place that had nothing to do with their current mission, Obi-Wan would have respected the boy's privacy and let it go. But given that they were only hours from a horrific decision point, Obi-Wan felt it necessary to probe further.
"Have you seen him recently, Poulin?" he asked. His voice was still mild, but it contained a different tone that was not lost on the Padawan.
"N – No, Master Kenobi. The boy became nervous, and his habitual stammer became evident.
Obi-Wan decided to take a different tack. "Poulin, do you know why you were asked to join this mission?"
The boy frowned a little. "Because Master Medulla is on the team," he said. Not surprisingly, he had assumed that he was merely accompanying his Master, as always. Obi-Wan tried something else.
"Do you understand our purpose?"
"T – To protect S – Senator Amidala from a possible attack…" Poulin stammered.
Obi-Wan closed in, hating every minute of it. "Were you aware that Anakin has left the Temple and his Senate assignment without permission, and has not been seen or heard from for some time?"
Poulin stared at him. "N – No."
Obi-Wan surveyed the boy objectively. "But you are not particularly surprised."
Poulin dropped his eyes. "N – No."
"May I ask why?" Obi-Wan asked gently.
Poulin took a deep breath, and then another, before meeting Obi-Wan's eyes again. "H - He wasn't happy in the Temple. He knew th – that a lot of people didn't want him there. He was waiting…" He stopped completely.
"Yes? Go on."
"H – He was waiting every day to be expelled," Poulin said in a rush. "H – He didn't think he would ever be m – made a Knight."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, needing a moment of privacy with his tumbling thoughts. Proud, fierce Anakin, he thought. Proud, fierce and without hope for a bright future. Where would he go? What would he do? He opened his eyes again and focused all of his attention on the boy.
"Anakin must have had friends or associates outside the Temple, then. Was he close to anyone while he was working in the Senate?"
Poulin looked uncomfortable, but was unable to refuse a direct question from a Jedi Master. "H – He wasn't close to many people in the Senate. M – Most people were a bit frightened of him." The Padawan must have taken Obi-Wan's sharp look as an indication that he had not answered the question satisfactorily, because he quickly volunteered, "He was very close to S – Senator Amidala and her f – family, though."
Obi-Wan decided to deal with the first assertion first. Something in the Force was beginning to tug at him.
"People were frightened of Anakin? How do you mean?"
The boy was beginning to look distinctly miserable. "H – He had quite a lot of power, you see. People n – never knew what he would make them do next."
"Power?" Obi-Wan frowned. "What do you mean by power?"
The boy shrugged. "People had to do whatever Anakin said. In pretty much all D - Departments."
Obi-Wan knew, as did the Council, that Anakin had been given a substantial responsibility for advising on the restructuring the Senate's Security systems, under the Chancellor's mentorship. But… Anakin having a free hand in every Department of the Senate bureaucracy? The boy must be mistaken.
"Surely not all departments" Obi-Wan said severely. "You mean in Senate Security."
"N – No, Master Kenobi. Anakin told the Chief of Security what to do, but he also m – more or less controlled what happened everywhere else, because Security was involved in every area. Even the Delegations' p – private Security teams had to follow his rules. Every Department did. Nobody d – dared cross him."
"Where did he get that kind of authority?" Obi-Wan wondered aloud, with growing dismay. Little tremors in the Force were making him shiver.
Poulin took it as a direct question. "From the Supreme Chancellor, Master Kenobi. Everyone knew that Anakin spoke directly for Chancellor P – Palpatine, and that the Chancellor approved of everything he d – did. He even got people p – promoted and fired. Th – The Senate Security Forces were all l – loyal to him."
Anakin must have loved that, Obi-Wan thought, appalled.
There are deeply uncomfortable moments in life when one's previously held ideas and concepts are ripped away and instantaneously replaced by new experiences or new information. Obi-Wan was having one of those moments. To make it worse, the hairs on the back of his neck and all the way down his arms were beginning to stand up.
Why would Chancellor Palpatine give that much authority to an unproven Padawan? And more to the point, why weren't we aware of the extent and nature of Anakin's role?
"Were you ever afraid of Anakin?" he asked the boy suddenly.
Poulin didn't seem surprised by the question, but shook his head emphatically. "No. He is my friend." Then he admitted, "but I w – wouldn't want to be on his bad side."
It seems we have managed to place the whole Order on Anakin's bad side, Obi-Wan thought, painfully. He studied the stalwart Jedi Padawan in front of him. The boy clearly was uncomfortable being questioned about Anakin, but there was no doubt that he was telling the whole truth, as he understood it. He pressed on.
"How close was Anakin to Senator Amidala and her …family?"
"H – He spent a lot of time with Balé," Poulin offered reluctantly. He must have thought that Obi-Wan's frown indicated confusion, and hurried to explain. "That's Senator Amidala's daughter. H – He took care of her sometimes, when the Senator was away."
Obi-Wan knew who Balé was. His frown had been the result of a vivid memory of having seen Anakin holding the child in his arms, standing next to Padmé, the evening that Obi-Wan had arrived to retrieve his Padawan from Naboo. The intimacy among the three had shone through the Force with an intensity that still stunned him when he thought about it. "How do you know all this?" he asked the Padawan bluntly. "Anakin told you?"
"I – I helped him once. During the Senate Crisis. I – I took care of Balé so Anakin could go there… Balé talked to me quite a lot." He added quickly, "Master Medulla gave me permission…"
Obi-Wan's eyes held Poulin's. "Balé talked to you about Anakin?"
"Y – Yes," Poulin managed. "Sh – She is very fond of him. I think…she thinks of him as p – part of the family." Poulin suddenly blushed so violently that it startled Obi-Wan. "Balé said…she said she w – wished Anakin and Senator Amidala would …" He stopped and gulped. Obi-Wan stared at him. "She w – wished they would get m – married," the boy finished. His embarrassment was painful to see.
Obi-Wan sighed inwardly, but made a point of reassuring the mortified Padawan. This was evidently what Poulin had been worried about revealing, but it didn't strike Obi-Wan the way the boy's other disclosures had. The odd pressure from the Force had abated.
"It's all right," he said. "We know about that…connection." Poulin shot him a curious glance. Yes, Obi-Wan thought wryly, you might well wonder why we allowed it to go on. "Do you still consider yourself to be a close friend of Anakin's?" he asked after a short pause, changing the subject slightly.
"Yes," Poulin answered stoutly, without a trace of a stammer.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Then it is important that you understand the larger ramifications of this mission. Poulin, we believe that Anakin might have abandoned the Order and turned rogue. But we don't know what his intentions are, or whether he poses a danger. Part of our job here is to find out." Then he put the boy on the spot. "What do you think he will do, Padawan Brith?"
Poulin stared, and then blinked rapidly several times. Obi-Wan appreciated the Padawan's self-control.
"I think he will stay close to Senator Amidala and her daughter," Poulin said seriously. For some reason his stammer had all but disappeared. "I think Anakin cares about them more than anything." Then he looked straight into Obi-Wan's eyes, and said, bravely, "I don't think he will do anything dangerous as long as he is with them. He's unhappy, that's all. But not everyone might understand that."
"You understand a great deal," Obi-Wan said approvingly. His mind drifted back to his last conversation with Padmé on the roof terrace in Coruscant. She was playing a very dangerous game, and the boy was right – Anakin would be there with her, or at least close to her, no matter what happened. In fact, without any other reins on him, Anakin was likely to become directly involved in her activities. Still, his thoughts kept veering back to the disturbing image of his former Padawan's rapid transformation into a commanding and intimidating figure in the administrative structure of the Galactic Senate. If the Supreme Chancellor had been such a close supporter, why was Anakin now at large? Why hadn't Anakin gone straight to Palpatine after he stormed out of the Temple? Was Padmé the reason?
No, that didn't feel right. It had to be more than that. There was something else… The Force surged into motion around him again at the thought, confirming it.
He has found me, Anakin had said of the darkest power in the Galaxy.
Obi-Wan felt a familiar chill of dread.
Everyone knew that Anakin spoke directly for Chancellor Palpatine, and that the Chancellor approved of everything he did, Poulin had said.
The chill became worse. He glanced at Poulin to see whether he had noticed anything, and saw the beginnings of concern in the boy's eyes. He had better get himself in hand. Anakin, too, had been had been a mere Padawan…hardly more than a child himself…to be given such authority…to taste power, when he was not ready for that burden… and yet Palpatine was no fool…
What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of the Dark Lords of the Sith? Dooku had said.
"Are you cold?" Obi-Wan asked Poulin abruptly.
"No, Master Kenobi," the boy said, startled.
It's me, then. This warning is for me. The sense of cold was moving into Obi-Wan's heart.
Anakin had left both the Temple and the Senate and disappeared.
Anakin had disappeared.
Anakin…
Overwhelmed, Obi-Wan hid his face in his hands. What if Master Yoda had been wrong? What if the method of the Dark Side was not merely to mislead and deceive? Surely the truth, told to those who were not willing or able to hear it, could become the most effective lie of all.
Palpatine. By all the gods in the Galaxy…
It was not a new thought. Like all the other avenues Jedi analysts had explored, the possibility that Palpatine was connected with the Sith had been discussed over and over again. But the idea never had resonated through the Force with any kind of power or sense of truth. It always had excused itself from consideration, somehow.
Until now.
"Master Kenobi?" Poulin's worried voice seemed to be coming from far away. "Are you all right?"
If it was true… if it was… there were two possibilities. Either Anakin Had fled to the Dark Lord, and was hidden, or he had gone in the opposite direction …he was running away.
"You can't help me," Anakin had said. "None of you can. The only thing I can do is disappear."
But he wouldn't remain in hiding. Not if Padmé were in danger.
Palpatine is on the transport with Padmé.
It was the most elegant of traps. If it was true… if it was… then Padmé was merely a means of obtaining a greater prize, and had been all along. A completely disposable means.
Oh, Anakin, Obi-Wan mourned. We all played our parts so predictably. You fell in love with her, and we gave you to him.
"Master Kenobi!" The boy was shaking him now. It was time to come back to his duty.
"I'm all right," Obi-Wan said, forcing himself to lower his hands and take a deep, careful breath. He wasn't all right, not really, but he would function. That would have to do. He would learn to live with the knowledge that the Order had let Anakin down so badly that he didn't trust them to help him. He would somehow find a way to carry the burden of knowing that it was his fault – that it was his personal failure to deal with Anakin correctly that had brought events to this pass. Somehow he would carry on. And he would quite probably have the opportunity to watch his failure become complete as events unraveled before his eyes… Involuntarily he reached up and rubbed them. This had to stop – it wasn't like him to give in to despair.
That is the power of the Dark Side – its lightest touch, the merest brush of its presence strangles joy and imprisons the soul.
If you don't mind, Poulin, I would like you to spend the remainder of our time in hyperspace telling me about the research you and your Master have been doing on the Sith."
The Padawan was watching him dubiously. "Do you need something before I begin, Master Kenobi? Water, or tea?"
"Tea, if you would, Poulin." Obi-Wan forced himself to smile a little. "Please." The boy nodded gravely and hurried off to make it.
Mace, you and the Council might be right. The boy is an asset, and we will certainly need all the help we can get.
* * * * *
Rowen Farr, ancient and trusted chief of Staff to several Queens of the Naboo, didn't recall ever having seen one quite this angry. The stylized protocol of the Royal office didn't allow it. But Queen Jamillia was blazing with unrestrained fury. Rowen looked surreptitiously at Sio Bibble for confirmation, and sure enough, the venerable former Governor and Chairman of the Naboo Royal Advisory Council looked just as disconcerted as he felt. It was a relief, in a way. Both elderly gentlemen turned their attention back to the young Queen, not quite knowing how to help.
The elegantly painted and gowned Regent continued pacing behind her desk and then abruptly turned and walked toward the soaring window behind her. She remained there, gazing outside at the grand plaza below with her back to her advisors, long enough for them to exchange quite a few more concerned looks.
"Look out there," the Queen finally said, bitterly. "Look what they are doing to the Plaza."
Both men crept closer until they, too could survey the activity that filled the spacious square. A series of tall poles had been erected on all four sides, standing in perfect lines like phalanxes of soldiers. A long banner emblazoned with the symbol of the Republic was being hung on each pole. The banners were identical, and contrasted sharply in color and style with the gracious architecture and mellow colors of the heart of the ancient city of Theed.
"It looks like an arena," Queen Jamillia growled. "Like a military parade ground." She whirled around suddenly, disconcerting Rowan Farr, who had been standing right behind her. Uncomfortable standing nose to nose with his sovereign ruler, he stepped back hastily. "Have we been asked to participate in the preparations for this farce in any way?" the Queen snapped.
"No, Your Highness," the old gentleman said sturdily. "Even some of the required permissions have been disregarded. The preparations for the Military Governor's installation ceremony tomorrow have been handled exclusively by the Army itself."
"And now this," the Queen practically spat, pointing an imperious finger at a document on her desk. "Did we receive any reports about this at all?"
"No, Your Highness," Sio Bibble confirmed, taking his turn. "Not the slightest indication. Our latest information is that Senator Amidala is returning home on the same convoy with the new Military Governor. We have never heard the slightest hint about other…ah…activities on her part."
"I would like to know," the Queen said, in a dangerous tone of voice, "how a sovereign planet, a member in good standing of a democratic republic, with an active and honorable representation in the Senate, can be ground beneath the heel of what is for all intents and purposes a military government. How does that happen?" The last words were practically a shout, making her advisors jump.
Neither man had an answer.
"The Governor and Senator Amidala and the delegation will arrive early tomorrow morning, Your Highness," Sio Bibble pointed out. "We must make a plan."
"Ah, yes," Jamillia said, her painted lips tight with fury. "A plan. Which option shall we choose? The death of Padmé Amidala or the death of our last vestiges of freedom and sovereignty as a democratic society?"
"Your Highness," Bibble countered, uncomfortably, "perhaps the situation is not as desperate as that…"
"You, of all people, Sio Bibble!" the Queen cut him off. "You of all people ought to realize that the situation is that desperate! Ten years ago we were nearly enslaved as a result of a commercial dispute that took place within, and in spite of, a lawful system of government. Now we are in the throes of a vast war where the rule of law has effectively been suspended. What do you think will happen to us this time?"
"Your Highness," Rowen Farr broke in, "do I understand you to suggest that we actually comply with this demand from the Office of the Chancellor? He has no right to insist on Senator Amidala's arrest!"
"No right, Rowen?" the Queen demanded. "No right? Look out there…there is all the right he needs any more. His armies give him the right."
"Senator Amidala has been saying it all along," Bibble reflected gloomily. "Palpatine is not to be trusted. Even by the Naboo."
"We can't just hand her over to the Republic!" Rowen said in horror. "She has done nothing illegal, she would never…"
For the first time Queen Jamillia's wrath subsided, and she spoke to her trusted advisor not as a Queen, but as a comrade. "I know, old friend, I know. Padmé has been a thorn in the side of any and every faction that promotes tyranny throughout her entire career. Now the Republic itself is becoming tyrant." She paused sorrowfully. "On the basis of the evidence they claim to have, the military could arrest her for treason without our participation or approval. Don't you see, Rowen? Palpatine is making an example of her, and he is making sure that we take part in it. He is using us to send a message to every planet in the Republic that if we tolerate traitors, we will be made to suffer."
"And he is the one who decides who is a traitor, and who is not," Sio Bibble said venomously. The Queen and her Chief of Staff shared a quick glance of relief at the former Governor's passionate hostility. Clearly, he was no longer denying the full extent of their peril.
"Exactly so," Queen Jamillia continued, "and if we do not comply, if we do not arrest her, as he has demanded, the cost to Naboo will be unimaginable."
"He is giving us a choice," Rowen added softly. "Padmé Amidala, or Naboo."
"There must be another way," Sio Bibble insisted. "Padmé taught us that. She showed us how to fight back. Surely we must apply that lesson now – now more than ever." Once the conversation had returned to the real issue, all three parties dropped the required formalities and spoke of their Senator in the most intimate terms. She was more than a colleague. She was a hero – an iconic figure for both of the great races that inhabited the planet of Naboo. And above all, she was a friend.
"I have been trying for hours to speak with Chancellor Palpatine directly about this matter," Queen Jamillia said. "Yet his office puts me off each time. He will not even do me the courtesy of accepting my personal call."
A knock on the door startled all three, so deeply engaged were they in their discussion.
"Enter," the Queen commanded tersely.
The Captain of the Queen's Own Guard stuck his head, complete with peaked cap and plume, around the door. "Everyone you have asked to meet with is assembled in the conference room, Your Highness."
"Thank you, Captain," Queen Jamillia said, graciously enough. "We will be there shortly." The Captain nodded and withdrew. "Well, Gentlemen," she said to her companions. "In a few minutes we will no longer be the only ones who have heard this news. The time for bold, radical and strictly off-the-record suggestions will soon be over."
I am old, Rowen Farr thought to himself, suddenly and painfully. I am old and everything I know and love has changed beyond recognition and I will probably never again see the world I used to know. He involuntarily looked up and caught the eye of the equally aged Sio Bibble. For a brief moment he thought he perceived a glimmer of the same thought in his colleague's eyes. What have we to offer the young in this frightening new world?
"I have only one small contribution to make, Your Highness," he said sadly. "Only last week I received a private encoded message from Padmé, directing me to contact Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi in case…in case anything happened to her. I suspect this unfortunate eventuality may be what she had in mind."
"In case anything happened …what did she mean, Rowen Farr?" Queen Jamilla asked in surprise.
"I don't know, Your Highness," the old man admitted. "The message simply instructed me to keep its contents private unless a problem arose. Of course I did just as she asked."
"So she may have been up to something," Sio Bibble pointed out sharply. "There may be more to this than we know."
"Do as Padmé asked, Rowen," Queen Jamilla said at once, ignoring Bibble's outburst. "Do it right now. Before our meeting."
The Chief of Staff bowed. "Of course, Your Highness. Will you begin the meeting in the meantime?"
"I'll have to," the Queen said thoughtfully. "But I'll try to drag it out. Hurry, Rowen."
Obediently the old man made haste to try to make some small difference in the face of the impervious, unfeeling and seemingly unstoppable new order of things.
