Chapter 38. Full Circle

It was unbelievable. Padmé and her everlastingly disapproving security chief had left Anakin behind in the frigid, cramped cockpit of the Defiance, to stew alone in his resentment about the change in their plans and the choice that Padmé had made not to leave Naboo with him right away. Incredibly, she had gone to reveal her presence to the Queen, and to allow herself to be arrested. And most astoundingly of all, she fully and confidently expected him to wait patiently for her signal to come and rescue her.

Anakin felt as though he was going to explode. If he waited here, by the time Padmé's signal came, there would be nothing left of him but brittle shards of super cooled fury scattered around the small ship. It had been home and sanctuary for the space of nearly three glorious days. Now it felt like a prison cell.

Anakin rubbed his face violently with his gloved hands, as though he could rub away his simmering rage. He wanted to smash something – anything. He had been unprepared for this. The gnawing despair that had begun the instant of Padmé's departure was consuming him from the inside out. He was empty. Hollow. He felt like nothing more than a shell holding in the seeds of an inferno.

Using every last ounce of patience he could muster, Anakin forced himself to make the ship ready for departure. That was still the plan, wasn't it?  They were going to leave this place together. Padmé had promised. His job was to ensure that everything was ready for a quick exit.

Irritably Anakin forced himself through a methodical multipoint systems check followed by a detailed inventory of the ship's supplies. He had done well on Coruscant – there was enough of everything to last them for weeks. Then, with another violent effort of will, he compelled himself to tidy the small cabin and to store the remnants of the morning's activity. He made up the bunk, trying hard not to think about how empty it was. He put away Padmé's hairbrush and some stray hairpins. He stowed the many extra blankets. The blankets reminded him about the environmental controls. A second cursory look confirmed his original assessment that it would take at least half a day to reconfigure the entire system. This was the perfect time to do it.

Instead, Anakin violently slammed shut the door to the control panel. He had to get out of here.

It took him only a few moments more to rig a few small booby traps to discourage anyone who might want to explore the blastboat in his absence. Taking a last look around to make sure that everything was in order and that any intruders would bitterly regret that choice, Anakin grabbed the shabby leather over jacket that hid his weapon so well and made his way through the dark, dingy cargo hanger into the bright and beautiful light of a Naboo morning.

It was time to judge the current state of affairs for himself. He already had searched the spaceport thoroughly earlier, and had found nothing of note. Slipping into his best version of invisibility, Anakin set out for the heart of Theed, and the Palace – until something in the Force brought him up short. He paused, searching with his senses.

There was another game piece in play. One he had not been aware of before.

Without further hesitation, Anakin directed his steps to a different, larger cargo facility at the edge of the spaceport.

* * * * *

"I want to see my daughter," Padmé said to Obi-Wan in a low voice, as they walked side by side down the long pillared corridor to the residential wing of Theed Palace. She had not been handcuffed or placed in other restraints; the Jedi did not require such elementary forms of control over their charges. But she was their prisoner all the same. It had been agreed between the Queen and the Chancellor that the Jedi would decide how and where Padmé was to be secured. They would decide whom she could see during the time that she was being detained. Master Windu would even maintain a presence at the negotiations for her release. In fact, Padmé had been placed entirely in the hands of the Jedi. She was theirs to watch over until others decided her fate.

Padmé needed to have Balé with her. And under the circumstances, Obi-Wan Kenobi was the one who would make that decision.

"That's not a good idea right now," the Jedi Knight answered, placing a hand lightly on her arm to guide her into a secondary corridor, and then dropping it again discretely. Padmé looked at him, but his face revealed nothing.

"I insist," she demanded. "It's obvious from the route we are taking that you plan to secure me in my own quarters. There is no reason why I shouldn't see her, or why she shouldn't stay with me." When Obi-Wan didn't answer, Padmé glanced cautiously at the Jedi Knight who walked quietly by her other side. She did not know him, but he had introduced himself as Master Medulla. Behind them strode a young man whom she did know. Lon Erian, Padmé thought with a tinge of bitterness. Dellia's young man. The one who decided to leave her to become the perfect Jedi.

Padmé's observation that they were taking her to her own apartment in the Palace turned out to be accurate. They had rounded the last bend in the corridor, and yet Obi-Wan still had not replied.

"Well?" Padmé said sharply.

Again, he didn't answer. They had arrived at her door. When Obi-Wan waved it open and indicated that she should enter, Padmé remained stubbornly where she was.

"Surely you don't expect me to remain here without the services of my Handmaidens," she flared, in front of the other Jedi. "I am not accustomed to functioning without my personal staff."

This time she could have sworn she glimpsed a flicker of amusement in Obi-Wan's eyes. Padmé held on to her indignant expression and waited to see what he would do next.

"Would you give us a moment alone, please?" Obi-Wan said politely to his Jedi companions, not really giving them an option. Both the Knight and the Padawan nodded and stepped back to stand on opposite sides of Padmé's door. Their presence and purpose instantly turned her apartment into a fortress. Padmé nodded imperiously to Obi-Wan and deigned to enter her residence. Obi-Wan followed, and made certain the door closed behind them.

"Impersonating haughty royalty, Senator?" he commented dryly, turning to face his charge with his hands clasped serenely in front of him. "Who would believe that of you?"

Padmé shrugged. "You would be surprised. But never mind that. I need Balé and my Handmaidens here with me. And I would like to see Captain Typho."

Obi-Wan's lips compressed into a line. "As I said, Padmé, that's not a good idea right now."

Padmé glared at him. "Don't be absurd. You're not buying into any of this, are you?" 

Obi-Wan gave her a very penetrating look.

"If by that you mean to ask whether we intend to turn you over to the Army, no matter how the negotiations proceed, the answer is:  no, we don't."

"Well, then," Padmé persevered, "bring me my daughter and my staff and let me get on with what I need to do."

"No, Padmé."

"What?" She was incensed. "I promised Balé that she will see me as soon as we arrive on Naboo. She is most probably frightened and upset, and any delays will make it worse."

Obi-Wan allowed a moment of silence to fall between them before he quietly tore a gouge into her already guilt-ridden heart. "The choice to travel separately from your daughter was your own, Padmé."

Padmé flinched. My choice, she thought. My choice to go to Alderaan. My choice to use Bale as a decoy. My choice to place Anakin in more danger… Caught in a fierce battle against despair and rage, she managed to retort hoarsely, "Then for the sake of all that is worth fighting for, Obi-Wan, let's not make her suffer more for my choices."

Obi-Wan looked sad. He also wouldn't budge. "I'm sorry, Padmé, but I cannot allow it. I have arranged for Balé to remain with your staff. A young Jedi with whom your daughter is acquainted – Poulin Brith – accompanies them. She is safe, Padmé. That will have to do for now."

"But why?" Padmé demanded furiously. "I don't understand why!"

"Because we have a plan for safeguarding you from the Army and from the Chancellor, and in order to carry it out we need you on your own and ready to go at a moment's notice. The fewer complications the better."

Padmé stared at him until the puzzle pieces came together in a comprehensible pattern.

"You're preparing to kidnap me!" she announced in utter surprise.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I was prepared to take you straight off the task force ship. Unfortunately, you weren't there."

Perhaps it was the shock of disbelief. Perhaps it was an overpowering sense of the bitter irony of the situation. Or perhaps she had finally lost her fierce battle to maintain some semblance of composure. But Padmé suddenly collapsed into helpless and not altogether mirthful laughter, momentarily startling even Obi-Wan out of his Jedi calm.

"I don't believe it," she gasped, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Believe it," Ob-Wan said sternly, having quickly regained his self-possession.

"Oh," Padmé sobbed, on the edge of hysteria, "we do live in evil times when the Jedi concoct an operation like this in defiance of their beloved Republic."

"Padmé," Obi-Wan ordered, "take hold of yourself."

Padmé's shoulders were still heaving when she started to hiccup. "I appreciate your concern, Master Jedi," she said, between spasms, "but I am not in need of your help. I have my own plan, which I prefer by far. Please, just bring me my daughter and my staff. You can be of enormous help, and achieve the same ends, by simply looking the other way when I go."

Obi-Wan still had his hands clasped in front of him, but stretched thin as Padmé's nerves were; she noticed that they were tightly clamped together. She let her eyes drift to his face. It wasn't immediately apparent, but Padmé could have sworn the Jedi Knight was clenching his jaw. For a few long moments, neither one of them spoke.

"Please tell me that this plan of yours doesn't include Anakin," Obi-Wan finally said severely.

Padmé wiped her eyes for the last time and raised her chin challengingly. "It does."

Obi-Wan's jaw definitely was clenched. "I can't allow it," he said firmly, sounding every bit as overbearing as Anakin had earlier in the morning. Padmé's wavering hysterical edge vanished instantly.

"It isn't up to you," she snapped.

"Oh, but it is, Padmé," he replied without a trace of irony. "It is entirely up to me."

Padmé's glower was almost worthy of Anakin, as was her unrepentant stubbornness. "I'm not asking you, Obi-Wan. I'm telling you."

"Then let me tell you something," Obi-Wan hissed, moving closer to her without unclasping his hands. "Our original mission was indeed to keep you safe – but not from this. Not at first. That warrant for your arrest was issued around the same time that we arrived on the convoy."

Padmé stared at him with growing alarm.

Obi-Wan pressed on. "Anakin has fled the Order. He has fled his duties in the Senate. He is at this point, by any definition of the term, a rogue Jedi."

Padmé shook her head. Obi-Wan didn't know what he was talking about. Anakin may have rejected the Order, but he wanted nothing more than to go away with her. To raise a family. There was no crime in that.

"In the best of times a rogue Jedi is a cause for grave concern," Obi-Wan persisted, even though Padmé suddenly didn't want to hear any more. "A rogue Jedi with Anakin's skills, and more than that, with Anakin's" – here he hesitated, choosing his words with great care – "with Anakin's particular history, amounts to a crisis."

"Anakin is no danger to me, if that is what you are trying to imply so obliquely," Padmé growled. "He is no danger to anyone."

"Anakin is a danger to us all!" Obi-Wan burst out. "He is under the influence of – of forces – whose nature I can barely explain to you. Things of which you have no concept, in your frame of reference."

"Try me," Padmé said in a low and dangerous voice, trying hard not to remember Anakin's outburst on the Defiance. His fear. The haunted look that crept into his eyes when he thought she would not notice.

Obi-Wan's eyes darkened with feeling. "All right, Padmé," he said softly, forgoing any attempt to soften the blow. "I will. Do you remember that …that thing that killed Qui-Gon Jinn?"

Padmé nodded in an agony of apprehension. "The one you destroyed," she whispered hoarsely.

"Its Master wants a replacement," Obi-Wan said pitilessly. "And he appears to have settled on Anakin."

* * * * *

Anakin's pre-dawn search of Theed's spaceport had taken place while the transport hub slept. Now, a few hours later, the sprawling installation had come to life. In fact, the spaces around the buildings and hangars, and the roads leading into the capital city, were crawling with vehicles and people, most of them connected with the Republic Army. Foot traffic had increased as well, and streams of people appeared to be moving in the direction of the city center.

The ceremony of investiture, Anakin thought suddenly. It was scheduled to begin in less than an hour. But that was not the direction in which his inner awareness was steering him. Anakin quickly skirted the edges of the cargo area, heading unerringly toward a large low building that stood by itself. Creeping closer he worked out that it was a customs warehouse. And inside, his senses told him, was a Jedi who did not wish to be known.

Tiny needles of warning prickled their way up his body. If he could perceive, so could he be perceived. Without thinking twice, Anakin availed himself of the comfortable cloak of darkness he had grown accustomed to relying on – the one Obi-Wan had referred to as his "shroud." Instantly he felt more confident. The Jedi's Force signature was one he knew well. Anakin had no intention of encountering that individual openly – certainly not now that the Order was sure to have labeled him as a rogue.

It didn't take Anakin long to find a way to enter the building unseen. Behind the row of small administrative offices were a number of large storage areas housing different types of cargo. One of the areas was a hub of activity, where several laborers wearing the standard garb of a cargo jockey – drab blue leggings and a matching long padded jacket – were opening crates, checking the contents, and re-sealing them. One of the laborers was a tall, brawny man with a battered face, thick cords of muscle in his neck, and large hands. Anakin was quite certain that the long jacket concealed a lightsaber that when ignited, glowed a memorable shade of deep blue-green. He had scrambled to evade that blade often enough in practice sessions with his former teacher.

Master Tec Andros. Jedi Knight, legendary fighter and tactician, and Obi-Wan's friend.

Certainly not my friend, Anakin thought resentfully. Master Andros had never been terribly impressed with Anakin's performance in his lessons – particularly when he had gotten …well…creative in his solutions to the set problems. And the Jedi Knight's already poor opinion of Anakin had crystallized the year before, when he had helped Obi-Wan to retrieve his errant Padawan after Anakin had lingered too long on Naboo with Padmé. The time he had almost died after the life-Force transference. The time he had married Padmé before returning to the Temple.

Come to think of it, Master Andros had developed a fairly low opinion of Padmé after that incident, as well, even without knowing about the marriage. And he had treated her disrespectfully. Anakin's eyes narrowed coldly as he remembered the Jedi Knight's threat to hunt him down and finish him off personally if Anakin didn't return to the Temple as he had promised to do. The memory effectively annihilated any lingering instincts Anakin might have harbored to support and facilitate the Jedi's mission, whatever it was. Now his only concern was to decide just how much he needed to learn about Andros' presence here, and his intentions, to further – and safeguard – his own goals. Cooperation with the Jedi was definitely a thing of the past.

It was odd… it was almost as though events had come full circle. That last time here on Naboo Anakin had been the prey. Now he was the huntsman.

Anakin's feeling of superiority was short-lived. Tec Andros suddenly put down the crate he had been carrying and walked abruptly toward the warehouse exit opposite. To an ordinary observer there would have been nothing startling about his actions. To Anakin it was obvious that his presence had somehow, unaccountably, been detected. Whatever Master Andros had thought of his pupil, Anakin had studied his teacher's techniques and style with rapt attention, and he knew that he needed to be gone – now. Remaining as invisible as possible, given his haste, Anakin dashed from his hiding place and from the building to disappear into the adjacent hangar.

Almost impossibly, Master Andros was already there; twenty yards away, and looking in his direction, although Anakin was fairly certain he could not actually be seen. To a Jedi, though, that didn't matter – the Force was a far more reliable instrument of perception than mere eyes.

Turdshine. He really does know I'm here – and he even figured out which way I would run.

While urgently engaged in calculating his next move, Anakin puzzled about how Andros had detected him – and so quickly. Even Obi-Wan's senses had not been able to penetrate his shielding when he was cloaked in this way. Yet Andros behaved as though Anakin were plainly visible – worse still, as though he were telegraphing his intentions. And more to the point, having noticed Anakin's presence, why had he responded instantly and aggressively?

The mere seconds this thought process took up cost Anakin. His next move, although it put him twenty yards away behind a hulking transport vehicle in the space of a heartbeat, brought Anakin no further away from his uncanny enemy. Around the other side of the transport he heard the distinctive droning hum of a lightsaber igniting.

Flaming spawn of a Ta'an! He's right next to me! How is he doing this?

"Skywalker," he heard Andros' gravelly voice say, "turn yourself over to me and you won't be harmed."

Anakin had expected that the Jedi Council would consider him an armed and dangerous threat by now, and would order that he be brought in. There were actually ways to capture a Jedi – even one who didn't want to be captured. It generally took several other Jedi to do it. Of course, if they just wanted the rogue dead, one Jedi might well suffice for the task. Particularly one like Master Andros. For the first time it occurred to Anakin that the Jedi Council might not care whether he was in one piece or in several when he was brought back before them.

Andros was circling the vehicle. All Anakin could sense from him was pure, focused intention.

Anakin's own weapon snapped into his hand as he weighed his odds, but he did not ignite it. He didn't answer, either. Instead he shot straight up from a standing start and executed an elementary double somersault onto a maintenance catwalk that hung just below the soaring ceiling of the large hangar. This time there was no hiding place, and Tec Andros observed Anakin's move directly. Anakin looked down at the Jedi below. Their eyes locked for a fraction of a second, until Tec sprang unhesitatingly, just as Anakin had done, landed on the catwalk, and lunged with his weapon, all in one smooth movement.

Instantaneously Anakin's blade came up to block the thrust. The two lightsabers clashed together with a grating whine. "What do you want?" Anakin hissed.

"Turn your weapon over to me, as required by the Code, and come quietly," Andros ordered.

It was not an idea that Anakin entertained for even a moment. He was much more interested in knowing how Andros was able to perceive and track him so easily.

"You are wondering how it is I can perceive you despite your cloaking," Andros said evenly, with unnerving prescience. All the while he continued to press forward with his weapon, creating a fulcrum of tension between the humming blades so powerful that sparks flew. His black eyes never left Anakin's. "Let's just say that we learn quickly."

"Huttslime!" Anakin thought, his stomach lurching wildly. This changed everything. If the Jedi could once again perceive him with ease, he had lost his advantage. He would never be able to protect himself as long as they were intent on finding him, and therefore he would not be able to safeguard Padmé. He had to get out of there.

Unhesitatingly he broke the impasse and attacked his former teacher fiercely with a complex pattern of feints and thrusts. Andros countered each move easily, as Anakin had anticipated. The distinctive hum and whine of their lightsabers was punctuated again and again by the screech of crashing blades. They were evenly matched, and both combatants knew it. Anakin fought viciously, using all of his skills, while he planned his escape. His mind clicked efficiently and systematically through all the known variables in the situation, searching for one he could use to his advantage. When he found it, it was so simple he would have laughed, had he not been in the middle of a roundhouse leap to avoid a blade that had thrust within inches of his face.

Master Andros was undercover. For reasons of his own he did not wish to be revealed as a Jedi. The hangar was empty of people for the moment – but that could change.

Andros' unrelenting counterattacks had pushed Anakin backward along the catwalk, and he was nearing its end. With cold calculation Anakin shifted the pattern of his defense until he was in the position he wanted, and then he leaped over the railing and downward, using his lightsaber to slice through the struts that secured the walkway to the hangar wall as he went With the screams and moans of twisting metal, the severed structure began to collapse toward the floor far below.

Tec Andros reacted by leaping in the direction that Anakin had taken – but Anakin was no longer there. By the time Master Andros' feet touched the ground Anakin was twenty yards beyond, rolling swiftly under a docked cargo transporter. He didn't stop for an instant on the other side of the ship, but in two long bounds he cleared the vast hangar door and slithered though the crowd of people who were racing toward the hangar in response to the violent crashes caused by the buckling, plummeting catwalk. By the time his pursuer arrived in the same place, looking like nothing more than a shabby cargo jockey and no longer visibly bearing a weapon, Anakin was nowhere to be found.

Clinging to the underside of an Army troop transport as it lumbered steadily out of the spaceport and toward Theed, Anakin struggled to bring his breathing back to normal, and to think. He was fairly certain that Master Andros would not follow him for the moment, but he resolved to remain in the middle of the crowds, just in case. In the meantime, he needed to work out his strategy – and those of the other players in this game within a game within a game. As the transport bumped along the service road that led out of the spaceport, Anakin counted up the number of Jedi who were probably on Naboo at the moment. Master Andros. Obi-Wan. Master Windu, Master Medulla, and Lon had been flying the starfighters – they were probably here, too. All of them must know of his presence here by now. And, as Master Andros had said, they learned fast.

There were more than enough Jedi to bring him in, if that was what they were here to do. Was it?

3-D Chak'la was hard enough to play when you could survey all of the pieces. This was becoming impossible.

When the troop transport merged into a long line of traffic on the outskirts of Theed, Anakin jumped off and disappeared into a crowd of pedestrians that streamed steadily toward the Palace. He no longer cared what plans Padmé had. It was definitely time for them to go.