CHAPTER EIGHT
Mara hunched over the handlebars of the speeder bike as she tore through the dark nighttime streets of Theed at high speed. She extended her perceptions ahead in the Force to make sure she wouldn't hit anyone – but no one was out at this hour anyway. Unerringly she followed the path her nightmare had shown her.
The Lady Vader sat in a docking bay of the main hangar at the Royal Palace, where the Amidala family starship always was welcome at a moment's notice. The night-shift guard on duty had been delighted to have the spell of his boredom broken, and with irritating enthusiasm he'd helped her unload the bike and given her directions to the Cathedral of the Liberation, the first landmark in her disturbing vision from the Force.
Mara swung wide around a corner and shot down another cobblestone boulevard. She almost had reached her destination now, and it was time to prepare.
Her hands gripped the controls with such strength she felt tingles running up her arms. She took a series of deep breaths and compelled her heartbeat to slow. Dropping the speeder bike to a more reasonable speed, she opened her mind fully to the Force and pushed aside the questions and anxieties boiling in her thoughts. For the next few minutes she had to concentrate on one thing and one thing only.
Mara flew the bike into a dark alley and parked it along the stone wall. She hopped to the ground and quickly adjusted her tight black flight suit. She cinched her belt around waist and shook out her loose red-gold hair. Then she crossed her arms over her chest, closed her eyes, and plunged her mind into an intense battle meditation.
When she opened her eyes again Mara was immersed in the deadly calm that was Vaapad. She strode from the alley at a brisk clip to walk the final few blocks to the building she had seen so clearly in the horrifying dream. Her feet carried her forward without conscious thought and the Force flowed through her body with unparalleled ease. Never before had she so clearly felt that the Force was guiding her, rather than the other way around.
Soon Mara reached the structure she had never seen before but recognized well. Skulking in the deep shadows of late night, she made her way to the rear entrance and examined the keypad by the door. It didn't take her long to realize the best course of action – so she plugged her small handheld datapad into the keypad and linked it to her comlink, then flicked open the feed.
"Jaytoo? Are you there?" Immediately she was greeted with a happy burst of beeps and bloops.
"Good," she said. "Slice me in."
Over the comlink she could hear the faint sounds of the astromech twittering and whistling to himself as he worked. Not more than half a minute later her datapad beeped.
"Thanks, Jaytoo," she said as the door slid upward. "Stay ready in case I need you."
Mara waited for the droid's confirmation, then stashed her datapad and comlink on her utility belt and walked inside. She found her way through the hallways and stairs without difficulty – her nightmare had been stunningly accurate. There didn't seem to be any sensors or traps set, so within a matter of minutes she'd reached the thick wooden door from her vision.
She took one final deep breath and pulled even more of the Force's invigorating energy into her body. With her mind stilled by the precise concentration of Vaapad, she was more than ready.
Mara snapped her lightsaber handle from her hip into her palm and ignited the shimmering violet blade. Effortlessly she kicked down the door with a single smash of her booted foot. Beyond the falling door was a brightly lit, sterile white room – the deadly laboratory the Force had revealed to her.
Inside the room a tall woman stood at a counter. She was making entries on a datapad while examining a set of biological cultures in distinctive scientific tubes. Dressed in white technician's garb and with her long brown hair tied back in a single plait, she was the perfect picture of a dedicated scientist.
If Mara hadn't been certain who this woman was, she might have thought she was in the wrong place.
For a long moment the Sith did not react. Then with completely composed deliberation she set down her datapad and spun to face Mara. Almost nonchalantly the woman took a long step away from the counter and into the wide space in the middle of the room, where she extended her hand in the air – and a glittering silver lightsaber handle flew from nowhere into her palm. The scarlet laser sword ignited with a snap-hiss.
Mara grinned triumphantly as she surged forward to attack.
---
Bryon gathered the group together at the base of the four-meter wide trunk of a towering tree. "The scouts found something," he told them quickly. "Give us the report, Sergeant."
A young man dressed in the same camouflage gear as the rest of them saluted crisply. "Yes, sir, General. Half a kilometer ahead is a small enemy outpost. At present there are two groups of six brownshirts each on patrol, as well as an additional twenty brownshirts at the outpost itself. We're keeping tabs on the patrols."
Bryon looked at Winter. "Have you been to this outpost?"
"Not this particular one, no," she replied. "But the Vyhrragians use a standard layout for them."
"Good," Bryon said. "Sergeant, you and Agent Targeter take the squad and seize the outpost. Han, you take Leia and Chewie and Luke and get the first patrol. I'll take Sarré and Lando and Danaé after the second patrol."
He glanced quickly around the group to see them nodding in agreement.
"Great," Han said. "Let's go, then."
"Master Bryon," interjected Threepio as the others headed away to their respective tasks, "what do you wish for Artoo and me to do?"
"Go with Winter," he said to the distressed protocol droid. "Just stay out of the way while they seize the outpost. We'll meet up with you again there."
Artoo toodled in dismay. "Not this time," Bryon said. "We'll need to move fast to get these patrols. You'll slow us down too much."
"I think Master Bryon is correct, Artoo," said Threepio, greatly relieved. "We're not built for combat."
Artoo whistled in disappointment. "Don't worry," Bryon said, patting the astromech on his dome. "There'll be plenty of excitement for you later. I promise."
Artoo beeped and blooped a vow to hold Bryon to his word, and Bryon couldn't help but chuckle as the two droids hurried off to catch up to Winter and the sergeant. Then Bryon turned to Danaé at his side, and reached out and briefly put a hand on her arm. "You're all right with this?"
She nodded. "This isn't the kind of situation where we can just knock them out – or take prisoners."
"Yes. I'm sorry."
"I'll do what's necessary," Danaé said. "I'll do my duty."
"I know you will," Bryon said, giving her a little smile before turning to Lando and Sarré. "Time to move out."
---
Leia crouched next to Han behind the meter-thick trunk of a fallen tree. Nearly ten meters away was the patrol of six brownshirts. The enemy soldiers had parked their speeder bikes and were searching the forest floor for something. Faintly she could hear them calling out to one another as they carried out their task.
"So," Leia said, "what's the plan?"
"If we can sneak up on them," Han said in a hushed voice, "we can take them out pretty easily."
"In close quarters we'd have a big advantage," Luke added.
"I guess so," Leia said. "But it only takes one to sound the alarm."
Han smirked at her. "Then we'll do it real quiet-like."
Chewie rumbled a suggestion. "Actually," Han said, "that is a better idea."
"I agree," Luke said. "I'll take the speeder bikes. Chewie, you take the other side."
The Wookiee nodded definitively. "Okay," Han said. "Let's do this."
Leia drew her blaster pistol from its holster and held it ready in her hands. Luke headed off in one direction, using the Force to move in complete silence across the twig-strewn ground. Chewie slunk over to the next tree and extended his frighteningly large climbing claws – and in a blur shot up the side of the massive trunk and into the canopy above.
Together Leia and Han peered over the top of the fallen tree trunk. The six brownshirts continued their search. These troopers wore the standard tan body armor over green fatigues, but their special aerodynamic helmets made perfect sense for speeder bike pilots. Two of the brownshirts had their blaster rifles slung over their shoulders, but the other four had theirs ready in their hands.
"Do you think they're expecting to be attacked?" she asked in a whisper.
"Sure looks like they think it's possible, anyway," Han replied equally softly. "I wonder from what?"
"Maybe the local animals?"
"Maybe."
Leia frowned. "If they knew we were here they'd come after us, right?"
"Look, Your Highness," Han chuckled, "quit your worrying. We'll be fine. Shoot the armed ones first."
"Right," Leia said. "It'll take the others time to draw their rifles."
"See?" Han flashed her a lopsided grin. "Told you we'll be fine."
Leia grinned back and waited. After a minute she readied her blaster into firing position and slid her finger snugly against the trigger.
Suddenly from high above a loud Wookiee roar pierced their ears.
The brownshirts reacted instantly – by scattering. Two ran toward the hovering speeder bikes while the other four ran off in opposite directions into the woods. Chewie continued to roar as he charged down the trunk of a tree on the far side of the enemy soldiers.
Leia fired a few shots and saw Han gun down one of the troopers, but quickly she realized that the scrambled way the brownshirts were running would made it impossible to take them all out from here before at least a couple of them got away into the forest. Simultaneously she and Han sprang up and over the fallen tree trunk and charged toward the fleeing soldiers.
"I didn't expect them to do that," she said as they ran ahead at top speed.
"Yeah, no kidding," Han muttered, firing a few more shots at the brownshirts.
"What now?"
"You get that guy," he replied, pointing toward one of the enemy troopers. "I'll get that other guy and Chewie'll know to get the last one."
"Right," Leia said, and rushed after her prey.
---
Luke waited until the first brownshirt vaulted atop the speeder bike and fired up its engine before he stepped out from around the tree trunk to face the enemy group. The trooper didn't see him, apparently, because the speeder bike lurched forward and zoomed almost straight toward him.
The instant after the speeder bike zipped past with a heavy whoosh of air Luke ignited his turquoise lightsaber and threw it outward in a wide arc. The rotating energy blade spun away behind a tree – and emerged again to slice off the front steering vanes of the retreating speeder bike in a single swift cleave.
The laser sword's handle slapped into his palm again just as the uncontrollable speeder bike collided with a tree in a blazing fireball.
Luke turned back to see the second brownshirt that had come his way running off into the forest on foot.
"Nice try," he growled to himself as he hurried after the soldier.
---
Han's feet pounded against the forest floor as he surged after the fleeing brownshirt. He fired several more shots at the enemy but couldn't hit him.
Still running, the soldier turned half around and squeezed off a pair of shots at Han.
He spun sideways and the blaster bolts whizzed by him. Han sped up his pace just a bit, trying to close the distance of the pursuit as much as he could.
The brownshirt was quick, though. Really quick.
Han fired another shot, but it barely missed too.
After taking another shot at Han the trooper ran behind a tree.
Han rounded the tree to discover that he had a clear firing path toward the brownshirt's retreating back.
It was time to take a calculated risk.
Han stopped in his tracks, set his feet, and snapped his blaster pistol up to a two-handed firing position with both arms extended fully in front of him. He sighted down the barrel and squeezed the trigger.
His blaster bolts slammed the enemy soldier squarely in the back and flung him violently to the ground.
Han spun his pistol in a circle around his trigger finger, then slapped it back in its holster.
He grinned. "And they say us Navy guys can't shoot."
---
Luke powered his feet with a burst of the Force and gained ground on the brownshirt. Swinging at his side, his lightsaber thrummed in the air.
The brownshirt fired a few shots recklessly over his shoulder as he fled, but Luke swatted the blaster bolts away easily. The trooper tried a second time, and again Luke flicked the shots away.
It was possible the enemy soldier might have comlink, though, and Luke wasn't certain whether Winter's attack on the outpost had begun yet. So he didn't want to take any chances.
Luke scanned the forest floor ahead and saw a length of tree root poking out above the ground. He waited until the brownshirt was just about there, then used the Force to yank the root upward.
The brownshirt stumbled on the makeshift tripwire and fell flat on his face.
The trooper tried to stand again, but even before Luke could reach the prone form a shot rang out and the brownshirt fell dead to the ground.
Luke looked over to see Chewie running up to him. The Wookiee wroofed a greeting.
"Nice shot," Luke said.
Chewie wrawled an acknowledgement. "All right," Luke said. "Let's go make sure Han and Leia got theirs taken care of too."
---
Leia ran as fast as she could toward the fleeing brownshirt, and even managed to get a bit closer to him. She raised her blaster pistol and fired two shots, but they missed.
They traded shots a few times as they ran, but she wasn't very good at shooting on the run and the trooper apparently wasn't very good at shooting backwards. It was a crazy stalemate in the midst of a frantic chase through the maze of tree trunks and underbrush.
Then Leia had an idea. Instead of shooting at the brownshirt's back she started shooting at ground a meter or so in front of him.
The abrupt change in strategy startled the soldier – and for a split-second his stride faltered.
That momentary pause was all it took for Leia to square her aim and pull the trigger. Three shots struck the brownshirt in the back and drove him to the ground.
Leia bounded forward and stood over the fallen enemy. He was dead all right. She took a deep breath and turned around to head back toward the others.
"Drop the weapon," a grim male voice said suddenly. "Hands in the air."
Leia hesitated.
"Now!"
She obeyed, letting the pistol thump to the ground and placing her hands on the back of her head. "Don't shoot," she said. "I surrender."
"Wise move, missy," the voice replied with a chuckle. "Unless you feel like dying, stay just the way you are until we've got the stuncuffs on."
---
"We'll have to change strategies if they manage to sound the alarm," Bryon told Winter. "Can you monitor all their frequencies from in there?"
She nodded once, decisively. "It won't be a problem."
"Good. Keep me informed." After the intelligence agent saluted and headed back inside the small building at the center of the captured enemy outpost, Bryon turned around and saw the other group emerging into the clearing.
Except they were missing a person.
He strode quickly up to them. "Where's Leia?"
Luke glared at Han. "She was with you."
"Yeah, and I thought you Jedi could use those mystical powers of yours to keep track of people," Han shot back.
"Hey," Luke growled, "I'm not the one who –"
"Stop, both of you," Bryon snapped. "Tell me what happened."
"I was – He was – Leia – brownshirts – had to catch – ran after – can't trust –"
"All right, cut it out," Bryon barked, ending the incomprehensible mutual tirade by the two men. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Chewie, tell me what really happened."
The Wookiee wroofed and wrawled an explanation.
Bryon broadened his shoulders just a bit and glared down at Han and Luke. "Is that accurate?"
Obediently both men nodded.
Then Sarré's voice came from behind him. "Hey, where's Leia?"
His hand shot up a warning finger at the two men, who wisely remained silent. "In a minute," he said to her when she reached his side.
She looked up at him quizzically. "What's going on?"
Without responding Bryon waved over Lando and Danaé, who had been drawn by the sounds of the shouting match. "Keep these two separated for a while," he told the pair. "I have enough to think about without dealing with dissension in the ranks."
"Sure thing," Lando said. He grabbed Han roughly by one arm while Chewie took the other, and together they unceremoniously hauled the protesting Solo away.
Danaé silently offered her hand to Luke, who took it and allowed her to lead him back toward the forest.
Frowning, Sarré looked up at Bryon. "Let me guess. Those two idiots lost Leia?"
---
Danaé drew Luke out of view of the outpost behind a massive tree. She released his hand and leaned back against the trunk. She waited for him to lean next to her, then sighed. "You know as well as I do that Leia's not hurt," she said. "We both would have felt it."
"She's not hurt yet," Luke said.
Danaé ignored the pessimism. "We'll find her."
"Yeah."
"She can't be far."
"Why not?" Her brother called a small rock into his hand with the Force, then threw it off into the forest in frustration. "If there were more brownshirts out there than we realized, they could have her on a speeder bike and be long gone by now."
"Or maybe she's been kidnapped by a band of marauding Ewoks."
Luke scowled. "This isn't funny."
"No," Danaé conceded. "But being angry and afraid isn't helping anything."
He was about to respond when they heard the sharp sound of a series of blaster shots ripping into a tree.
She put her hand on his arm to keep him in place. "It's just Bryon," she said. "Sarré's there. Be glad it was a tree instead of you."
The dangerous emotions peeling off Luke in the Force faded a bit when he chuckled. "You're right. I'm sorry."
"Just be careful about your feelings."
"I know."
Danaé wrapped an arm around her brother's shoulders. "We'll find Leia. Soon. I promise."
Luke sighed. "I believe you."
She pulled him closer. "It's okay to be afraid. It's okay to be angry. You're only human."
"And I'm a Jedi Knight," he said quietly. "I know the difference between feeling and acting."
"Then you'll be fine."
"Right."
Danaé smirked, and skipped her hand through the air. "You will be fine."
Luke playfully slapped the back of her hand with his fingers. "I'll be fine."
She skipped her hand again. "You will apologize to Han."
He burst out laughing. "Nice try. I'm not that weak-minded."
---
"That's right," Bryon said. "Those two idiots lost Leia."
Sarré shook her head. "Do I even want to know how?"
"Because they're idiots," he muttered, clenching his fists and trying to quell his slowly building rage. "Idiots, idiots, idiots."
"How much time do we have to spare?"
"Very little."
"So what can we do?"
"I don't know," he admitted. They didn't have time for this. He couldn't deal with this. How could he choose between winning the war and leaving his sister behind?
Sarré smiled confidently. "I'm sure you'll think of something."
"I shouldn't have to!" Bryon snatched a blaster pistol from its holster and took one-handed aim at a massive trunk a few meters away. He squeezed the trigger three times, blowing shards of bark in all directions as the laser bolts smashed into the defenseless tree.
"Bryon."
He kept firing.
"Bryon, stop."
He obeyed. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. After a long moment he slid the pistol back in the holster and reached out for his wife's hand. She took it, and he opened his eyes again and looked down at her.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She smiled a little. "Better the tree than your brother."
"True."
"Did that help? Are you less angry now?"
Bryon sighed. "Yes. I am."
"Good," Sarré said. "We need you calm if we're going to fix this and then finish the mission."
"You're right." He pulled her into an embrace. She squeezed him tightly, and he ran his hands up and down her back. "You were right about this too, you know."
"I was?"
"Yes." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Despite everything, I'm glad you're here."
"Oh."
"With you here," he whispered in her ear, "I really can believe we're going to win."
"Good," she said, pressing her cheek to his. "Then we will."
---
Darth Delicti gripped her red blade in two hands and parried away Jade's first strikes. Master Vengous had warned her that the Chosen One might send his former apprentice to confront her – but Jade seemed heedless of the situation in the lab.
"Have you gone mad?" Delicti hissed. "One wrong move in here and we're both dead."
Jade swung another precise arc straight toward her throat. "What makes you think," the Jedi snarled, "that I wouldn't accept that outcome?"
Delicti ducked beneath a decapitating blow, then took two long strides backward. "This is an airborne, infectious toxin, Jade. You'd kill the whole city and worse, not just us."
"Give me one reason I should believe a single word you say."
"Because you can't afford the risk that I'm telling the truth."
Jade still hadn't moved forward. "Fine," she said. "Let's take this outside."
Before Delicti could react Jade had flicked her left palm outward, projecting an immensely powerful invisible wave of energy in the Force. Delicti staggered backward under its strength, and behind her the doors to the balcony exploded into the night in a shower of wood and glass.
And just as suddenly Jade was upon her again, the violet laser sword unleashing a blistering barrage of attacks. It took all of Delicti's skill to defend herself from the onslaught. Even moving backward at full speed she barely made it to the balcony in time. Instantly she sprang into a twisting back flip that launched her over the railing.
Delicti used the Force to cushion her fall as her boots slammed into the cobblestone street three stories below. Already Jade was plummeting to join her, so Delicti had just enough time to set her feet and ready her defenses before the purple lightsaber assaulted her once more.
Sparks flew and ear-piercing screeches shook the air as the energy blades collided ferociously. Jade's attacks were unrelenting, and terrifying in their intensity and accuracy. Most disconcerting of all, though, was the grim scowl on her face and the hollowness in her green eyes.
"If you keep this up," Delicti said, trying to break the Jedi's concentration, "you're going to wake the neighbors."
Jade laughed, and pressed her attack even more. "Probably. So will your scream when I kill you."
And with that Jade swung another two-handed blow that nearly cleaved Delicti in two. Only a dive to the ground at the last possible instant saved her life, and she sprang to her feet again to find herself parrying frantically.
For the first time in her life Delicti was afraid she was going to die. When she met Jade's chilling gaze, she saw that her enemy knew it too.
And the scowl was gone – replaced by a most unnerving smirk.
---
Mara could sense the fear radiating off the Sith like the rolling waves of scorching heat in the Tatooine desert. Unhesitatingly she exploited her opponent's weakness and launched into another series of lethal Vaapad techniques. Only by the slimmest of margins did the Sith avoid them.
Without any conscious thought the Force guided Mara's hands to strike high, then low, then high again. "You know, this whole thing is rather ironic."
With an elusive parry her enemy counterattacked. "How so?"
"Well, for one thing," Mara said, snapping the strike aside with pathetic ease, "you're supposed to be the one in black, not me."
The Sith didn't seem to find the idea amusing, and she whipped her scarlet laser sword around just in time to save her right leg.
"And then there's the fact," Mara continued, "that fear is supposed to be your ally, not mine."
The Sith gasped as Mara's violet blade severed her thick braid – and almost her neck.
"Not to mention," Mara concluded, "that you've all been worried about the wrong Jedi."
"What?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Mara's blade nicked her opponent's left shoulder, and the Sith cried out in pain. "You see, I've now killed more of your Master's apprentices than my Master has."
Her opponent's eyes widened in shock as Mara's blade struck right-left-right-left and finished with a violent downward arc that sliced off the Sith's right arm at the shoulder. The woman screamed in agony – until Mara impaled her through the heart with a single swift plunge of the violet laser sword.
Never breaking her piercing stare into her enemy's eyes, Mara held the blade in place and watched the Sith die. Triumph pulsed through Mara's veins as the life rapidly drained from the woman's face and her presence in the Force flickered and faded away. Mara deactivated her weapon and the lifeless corpse collapsed to the cobblestones.
Clipping the handle to her utility belt, Mara stubbed the body with the toe of her boot. Naboo was safe. Padmé and Leia would be so relieved. Sarré and Bryon too. And Anakin. Everyone, really.
"Don't mess with my family," she spat at the dead Sith.
Family.
Unbidden, all her frustration with Luke roared back tenfold. The blinding sorrow dropped her to her knees, and she clutched her palms to her temples to try to fight off the stinging anger.
"Blast you, Luke," she sobbed, urgent tears running down her cheeks. "Why am I not good enough for you? I did everything you wanted. I was everything you asked. What did I do wrong?"
And in that instant the next vision flashed in her mind.
When it ended Mara almost didn't have the strength to stand. "Why me?" she demanded of the Force. "Why is this happening to me?"
She didn't receive an answer.
Mara compelled herself to rise and reached down to her belt. Quickly she found the small homing device she wanted and triggered it to broadcast one of the Jedi emergency frequencies. She threw it up at the Sith's laboratory three stories above and with a quick burst of concentration used the Force to guide it inside. Then she tugged out her comlink and flicked it on. "Jaytoo?"
The astromech greeted her with an anxious toodle. "I'm fine," she lied. "Listen, I need you to have the ship ready when I get there. We're leaving right away."
The droid beeped affirmatively, then blooped another query. "Vyhrrag," Mara replied, already running back toward her parked speeder bike. "We're going to Vyhrrag."
---
Leia sat on the ground with her back against a tree. Her hands, still bound at the wrists by the stuncuffs, rested in her lap. There was no point in trying anything right now – a few years ago she'd learned that lesson about stuncuffs the old-fashioned way.
In front of her the small group continued to deliberate. The three human men who had captured her were there. She could tell Grim was in charge of that bunch. Edgy still was twitching, and Silent still hadn't said a word. They had met up with a red-skinned female Zeltron and a tall male Wookiee, who seemed to be the leader. The Wookiee was speaking Shyriiwook and the others an unfamiliar dialect that was derived mainly from Huttese.
Her captors presumably thought she couldn't understand them.
They were wrong.
Leia tried to piece together what she had learned so far. Based on their demeanor they were soldiers. From their tone and the kinds of plans they were discussing they clearly weren't working for Argis. Which made them rebels of some kind. Insurgents, perhaps. Hassling the brownshirts in the forest apparently was their current mission.
Which would explain what the troopers with the speeder bikes had been doing – trying to track down this band of warriors.
Her captors were debating what to do with her. Zeltron was sure Leia was a spy. Grim was skeptical too. But Wookiee was equally convinced that a spy wouldn't have the authority to kill brownshirts just to set up a trick. Grim wasn't so sure about that, but Zeltron was coming around.
Leia knew she had to figure out a way to convince them that she wasn't a spy for Argis – but quite the opposite. In fact, maybe these rebels would know a quicker way to get to the shield generator. Or maybe they even would be willing to help in the attack. So she had to think of something.
In the meantime her captors had begun considering whether to kill her, let her go, or take her back to their base camp. Grim and Edgy were pushing for kill. Zeltron objected to that, but wasn't sure about letting Leia go either. Silent nodded along with Zeltron. And Wookiee pointed out that it would be easier to interrogate her at the camp than here, and they really shouldn't make this decision without consulting the Colonel.
Still doing her best to follow the conversation, Leia took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Why, she wondered, did she have such a knack for getting herself kidnapped? In less than four years as Senator it had happened four times, counting today. That had to be some kind of record.
Early in her tenure the spice miners on the moons of Naboo had become disgruntled by the increased docking fees in the ports on the planet. As part of their protests they had held Leia hostage. She had talked her way out of that one by promising to get their leaders an audience with the Queen – and she had kept her word.
Less than a year later the radical Anti-Neimoidian League had taken her prisoner in retaliation for her leadership in negotiating a tariff agreement that allowed the Trade Federation to begin shipping to and from Naboo for the first time since the blockade crisis three decades earlier. A solution as simple as agreeing to a public debate with the group's founder over whether retribution or conciliation was the appropriate method for dealing with their people's erstwhile invaders had won her freedom.
A year and a half ago the Sith had intercepted the Marigold and imprisoned her on Xixus, subjecting her to interrogation and torture to try to draw her father into a trap. But the Sith had failed, and she had been rescued by a daring mission to the heart of the enemy prison. Despite the painful memories, it all had been worth it – because those events had brought Han into her life.
And now this. It was practically funny. She was on a mission of incredible risk deep behind enemy lines – on the enemy's capital planet, of all places. And yet it wasn't Argis' soldiers who had captured her. No, that would make too much sense. Instead she was the prisoner of a band of… Of what? She didn't even know. She had her guess, of course, but it was only a guess.
It was time to start figuring out the truth.
By now Wookiee seemed to have convinced the others that the best option was to bring Leia to the base camp and let the Colonel interrogate her there. Even Grim and Zeltron were nodding.
This was her chance.
"You don't have to interrogate me," she said calmly. "I'll tell you what you want to know."
The five rebels looked at her in complete and utter shock.
Zeltron found her voice first. "How much did you understand?"
"All of it," Leia replied flatly. "Well, except a word here or there."
Wookiee wroofed a startled question.
"Yes, you as well," Leia said, trying hard to keep the smirk off her face. "A good friend of mine taught me."
"How exciting for you," Grim snarled, pointing his blaster rifle right at her. "Now start talking."
Leia nodded. "And where would you like me to begin?"
"For starters, a name would be a nice touch," Zeltron said.
"My name is Leia Skywalker," she replied. "I'm a diplomat and a member of the Galactic Senate."
Grim chuckled. "Right. And I'm King Argis himself."
Wookiee growled a warning at him, then wroofed another question to Leia – if what she said was true, what was she doing here?
Leia knew she had to make a choice, and make it quickly. She could trust her intuition, which told her that these five rebels were potentially valuable allies, or she could play her cards close to her chest until she was certain they wouldn't betray Bryon's mission to Argis.
Leia told them everything.
"So," she said when she finished the summary, "do you believe me?"
Wookiee paused, as if still unsure. Then his comlink chirped, and he plucked it from his bandolier.
A male voice spoke a phrase that made no sense. Leia knew they had to be some sort of code words.
Wookiee wrawled a quick reply, then stashed the comlink again. He loped over and released the stuncuffs from Leia's wrists, and offered a simple apology.
"Thank you," she said. "But what made you trust me?"
Grim laughed. "Ask your friends when we meet them at base camp."
---
Anakin slid the datapad back across the small round table and smiled. "It's fine."
Padmé's brown eyes darted nervously. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"The tone works?"
"It works," he said, reaching out to take her hands in his on the tabletop. "If anything it's too defensive. You've explained your reasons already – twice on the Holonet. You don't need to say anything more."
"I suppose you're right," she sighed. "I guess until I've convinced myself, I won't accept that others don't need to be persuaded too."
Anakin laughed. "And you say I'm the wise one."
"Well, you are," Padmé insisted with a little smile. "You're my wise and powerful Jedi Master."
"That I am." He squeezed her hands reassuringly. "The speech is fine. The tone works, and the audience will be plenty receptive to it. If you don't want to trim back the discussion of the suspension decree, you don't have to."
She nodded. "I probably will, though. You're right about that. I know you are."
He released his hold and brushed the fingers of one hand along her cheek as he stood up. "I'll let you get to it, then. You'll work faster without the distraction."
Padmé shook her head. "You're not a distraction."
Anakin grinned wickedly. "I've been known to be."
"Very true, Master Jedi," she laughed, a soft blush rising in her cheeks. "Very true. And about this you really are the wise one. Give me a little while, and I'll have this stupid thing finished off."
"As you wish, angel."
"Thanks."
He was about to pass through the open doorway into the narrow corridor of the military transport when he felt a familiar warble in her Force presence, and turned back. "What is it?"
She already was editing the speech on the datapad. "Nothing, really."
"Oh?"
"Just…" She looked up and smiled. "Thank you. For reading the speech."
He only nodded – they didn't have to say anything more. Padmé went back to work on her datapad, and for a long moment Anakin stood in the portal, simply watching her. Then he spun on his heel and headed toward the cockpit to find out how much longer the short flight to Corulag would last.
---
Anakin leaned against a tree along the edge of the broad lawn fronting the elegant, four-story stone building on the campus of an ancient university in Curamelle, the capital city of Corulag. Standing citizens packed the grassy space to hear the first public address by Supreme Chancellor Amidala since her decree suspending the Senate. Given that the two dominant institutions in the city were a branch campus of the military's renowned Galactic Academy and a significant research facility for Sienar Fleet Systems, he suspected there was plenty of support among the gathered throng for a more aggressive strategy in the war against Argis' Vyhrragian legions. And as Padmé began to speak from the second-floor balcony overlooking the crowd, his speculations quickly were proven accurate.
He sensed Jenny Antilles arrive at his side, and after a last lingering look at Padmé he turned away from the scene in front of him. "Did you need me?"
"No," she replied. "Just thought I'd say a quick hello while we have a minute."
Anakin nodded. "How do you think she's holding up?"
"Fairly well most days," Jenny said. "Better than I expected, really."
"That's good," he said. After the more than twenty years Jenny had worked for the Skywalkers – as nanny to their children and secretary or Chief of Staff to Padmé – it was second nature to Anakin to find out from her how much the relaxed, calm person Padmé reverted to around him differed from woman his wife was at work. Jenny always knew what he wanted to know – and Padmé expected her to tell him. Plus, this way was a lot easier than trying to get Padmé to admit the truth herself. "If you want me to be around more, I can make the time. I know she'd never ask, but I don't mind."
"Let's keep it about the same for now," Jenny replied after a moment's thought. "The more time you're with her, the more time you're not with Nyklas. Not that she doesn't trust the other security, but you're… well, you're you."
"I know. I understand."
"And obviously having you bring Nyklas to the office with you isn't an option."
Anakin laughed. "Not if any work's going to get done."
"Exactly," Jenny laughed too. "I think we're all right for now. Really."
"Works for me." He gazed down closely into his petite friend's eyes, and saw the exhaustion in them. "And how are you holding up?"
She grinned. "Fairly well most days. Better than I expected."
"You should take a day or two off now and then, you know. Don't run yourself into the ground."
"I won't."
"I'm serious," Anakin said. "Take a day and sleep."
"There'll be time for sleep after Victory Strike," Jenny shot back.
Anakin sighed. "I'll make you a deal. For every day Padmé takes off after this, you take two."
Jenny narrowed her eyes. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. You just have to judge how much influence I have over your boss."
She scratched her chin. "Fine. It's a deal."
"Excellent." Anakin glanced back up at the stone building and the balcony from which Padmé was delivering her speech to the cheering crowd. "She'll be pleased by the enthusiasm."
"Yes," Jenny said. "Yes, she will."
They stood in silence, side by side, and listened as Padmé's speech continued. A few minutes later when she nearly was finished, Anakin suddenly felt a surge of unease in his gut. Immediately he stretched out his perceptions in the Force, searching for signs of trouble and seeking guidance. He couldn't sense anything specific – only swirls and eddies of elusive disturbances.
Without hesitation Anakin began to move his way into the crowd, heading straight for the building. "Come with me," he said quickly. "Right now."
Jenny obeyed unquestioningly. "What is it?" she demanded, somehow matching his long strides. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure," he said. "But I sense something."
"Should I lock her down?"
"No. Not yet." Anakin pressed out with his feelings with greater strength, expanding his awareness by leaps and bounds. He still couldn't pin it down, but his perceptions were becoming clearer and clearer with each meter forward. As the pair cut their way through the packed mass of humanity he instinctively snapped his lightsaber handle from his belt into his palm.
"Is she in danger?"
Anakin glanced back at Jenny to see that she had drawn her small holdout blaster pistol from wherever she kept it concealed in her impeccably tailored gray suit. "I think so."
"Maximum alert," Jenny said into the comlink in her other hand. "Go to lockdown on my word or Master Skywalker's."
Anakin snatched his comlink from his belt too. Brushing past several more applauding citizens, he raised it to his lips. "Nature of threat unknown. Be ready for anything."
A double-click of the comlink confirmed the message, and they continued ahead as fast as they could manage through the dense crowd.
"I'm going up," Jenny said when they reached the base of the building a few seconds later. She cast a quick glance at the two Special Forces soldiers guarding the door, who quickly moved to open it for her. "You coming?"
"If I need to, I'll jump," he said, tipping his head upward to the balcony just over his shoulder.
"Right," she said, already halfway to the door.
Anakin squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated as fiercely as he could. He still couldn't determine the source of the alarming impressions in the Force – but they were growing stronger by the second.
Then, abruptly, he felt a spike of malicious intention shear through the Force.
"No," he gasped as his eyes shot open. The hand with the comlink flew to his mouth of its own accord. "Energy shield! Energy shield! Now!"
Over the jubilant roar of the crowd he couldn't hear whether the security team acknowledged his order to activate the portable energy shield to seal Padmé and the others on the balcony above him in a protective bubble.
His eyes were on the door. "Jenny! Jenny, get back!"
But she was already inside.
And then the bomb went off – and the stone building exploded in massive blaze of orange and white and red and yellow right in front of him.