AN: Just want to give a shout of thanks to everyone reading this fanfiction--I couldn't do it without your support or patience. As always, I apologize for the delay, but at least it wasn't as long as it was before my last update ;) By this point you've probably figured out I'm not the most regular at updating, and hopefully you're reading this story for something else. So, again, thanks for reading, and if you're here, gimme a shout: I love reviews (just don't flame me, please. I've no need to be extra crispy). And without further ado . . . chapter ten.
BTW: The first cameo appearance is up in this chapter. See if you can spot it (it's not rocket science). Adieu!
It is a point that must be conceded that some households in the world suffer from a distinct lack of personality. This may or may not be a good thing; some people would find it wholly uncomfortable living in a house that possesses an atmosphere as personable as some of its inhabitants. Most, however, quite happily--or ignorantly, as the case may be--reside in a home that has an aura all its own--a motto, if you will, a single phrase that it embodies and expounds upon . . . sometimes to the extreme.
The motto of the apartment which had formerly housed only two regular, unassuming, and possibly even boring Jedi?
Never a dull day.
It was its inhabitants, mostly, that rendered any hopes of normalcy unattainable. There were the two, now not-so-regular, Jedi who had always lived there; the decidedly unique girl who had recently become their ward; the rather large telekinetic fish who was quickly establishing himself as head of the house; the gigantic predatory feline that doted on the first girl; and now another young woman with enough personality for the lot of them.
It was fortunate that, in this apartment, there were three rooms, for this kept the sleeping arrangements managable. Obi and Qui continued to sleep in their own rooms, while Danielle and Krista shared the guest room quite comfortably. Sweetums made himself at home on the large couch in the main room, and Gumbi . . . well, no one wanted to think too hard about where Gumbi spent his nights.
The first morning after Krista arrived, Danielle rose early, as was her wont, to fix breakfast for the household's inhabitants. On her way to the shower, she was intercepted by Sweetums, who wanted to play now that Danielle was awake. She diverted him by discovering Gumbi in the corner and siccing the giant feline on the unsuspecting fish, then hastily went about her morning ablutions. She headed out just as Obi-Wan was headed in, still yawning widely, and made her way back through the living room, where Gumbi was now levitating Sweetums a full five feet in the air and grinning as the giant cat thrashed and meowed menacingly. Ignoring a sight that was--surprisingly--a common one, she headed back into her bedroom, shook a mumbling Krista awake, rapped sharply on Qui-Gon's door, then headed back for the kitchen.
In the kitchen, she had just gotten the sort of Instant Pancakes that were a household favorite on the griddle went Obi-Wan popped in to join her, hair still wet from his shower. Together, they set the table, a fascinating practice of coordination and Jedi skills, since Obi-Wan deftly levitated all the settings and condiments into position while Danielle, focusing extremely hard, used her mind to flip the pancakes. When Gumbi floated in, apparently done tormenting Sweetums, they deftly shooed him out of their way by creating a Force-barrier, then greeted a blurry-eyed Qui-Gon who popped his head in and asked how long coffee would be. Oblivious to the fact that he was six inches above the ground (compliments of Gumbi), he plodded his way off to the shower as Danielle got the coffee started bubbling and Obi-Wan went out onto the balcony to do his morning meditation.
Coffee boiling and pancakes cooling on the counter, Danielle headed back into the bedroom, attempted yet again to wake Krista, then backed Sweetums into a corner and gave him a thorough brushing, a process that would have been both impossible and eternal had he not been such a willing participant. Grooming complete, she set out an entire small mammal and a huge jug of water for his breakfast, then returned to the kitchen in time to pour three cups of coffee and hand one to the barely-alive Qui-Gon who slumped into his usual chair at the table. Taking the other two cups with her, she gave Krista a cheering salutation as she passed her on her way to the bathroom, then headed out onto the balcony to join Obi-Wan for a few minutes of his meditation. When this was completed, they stood together and enjoyed their coffee as they stared at the beautiful view out over the Temple Gardens.
After a few minutes, they strolled back in together and served breakfast to the finally-awake Qui-Gon and themselves, leaving a plate set for Krista whenever she should choose to arrive. As they ate, casually discussing yesterday's occurrences, the holophone buzzed, indicating an incoming call. Obi-Wan immediately hopped up and bounded over to it, only to have the beaming image of Sache appear on the screen, bidding them good morning. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she asked if it would be alright for the Queen and the other Handmaidens to come over for lunch to discuss the upcoming trial and get better acquainted. Obi-Wan agreed, and a time and location were set for later in the day, then they broke the connection.
He sat back down at the table at around the same moment Krista stumbled in, looking appalled that anyone should have to be up at such an ungodly hour (9:00). Seating herself at the table, she slurped lethargically at her juice and listened to the others' discussion, perking up only when the lunch date with the Nubians was mentioned. After that, she was recovered enough to eat her breakfast and send a few cheerful innuendoes at Qui-Gon, who remained happily oblivious as to why Obi-Wan and Danielle were acting so oddly. Deciding to escape the table before things got out of hand, he excused himself and headed off to confer with Master Yoda over some issue relating to Obi's latest mission.
After he was gone, conversation relaxed a little, and Krista eagerly volunteered to shadow Danielle for most of the day and learn what life in the Jedi Temple was typically like. Danielle was decidedly less enthusiastic about this plan, but when Obi-Wan said he had to spend the day debriefing on his latest mission and then teaching the younger classes fencing, she realized Krista would have nowhere else to go, and somewhat reluctantly agreed.
The first stop after breakfast was the library, where Danielle introduced Krista to the librarian, an intimidating woman named Jocasta Nu with whom Danielle apparently got on very well. She picked up the next installment in the series she'd been reading, entitled The Room of Mysteries, explained about the recent snafu with the Gerogonian prince, and gossiped about the events of the household. In the interim, Krista discovered a novel disturbingly similar to one she herself had begun writing a few years past, logged onto one of the computers and hacked a picture of a smiley face onto the screen, and nearly toppled one of the imposing busts of the Lost Jedi off its pedestal. When she returned to Danielle, a little shamefaced for her near accident, her friend was ready to leave and they departed for a shop outside the temple to buy some food for Sweetums.
Krista was delighted with the little shopping area nearby. When she discovered the Star Wars equivalent of a record store, she was so overwhelmed she hugged the owner. Danielle left her there to happily indulge herself in copious music crystal purchasing while she went next door and ordered to have several shipments of ground meat delivered to the apartment. When she met up with her friend again, Krista was toting a hefty sack of her purchases and wearing an insanely large grin. Unable to do more than shake her head, Danielle joined her and they walked out together.
"So, now that we have some alone time," Danielle said casually, "I think we ought to do a little catching up."
"Sounds like a plan," Krista said happily, still ecstatic from her shopping binge.
"How long have you been here?" Danielle asked softly.
"Here? A day, duh."
Danielle rolled her eyes. "Not on Coruscant. In . . . Star Wars," she said, sotto voce.
Krista narrowed her eyes, doing some deep thinking. It looked like extraordinarily hard work. "Er . . . just shy of two months, I think."
Danielle stared at her. "Really?"
"Uh, yeah. Really. Why?" Krista looked at her curiously.
"I've been here almost four."
Krista stopped dead in her tracks. "Wait. You've been here that much longer than me?"
Danielle nodded. "I guess so."
"But what does that mean?"
"I don't know." Danielle looked around them, shaking her head. "It . . . it feels so much like home, Krista. I just don't know . . . I'm starting to feel like I belong here."
"No kidding," Krista agreed, a little less creeped out by the notion. "You can guess how weird it is for me, with everything thinking they know me from before. Sometimes I feel like I'm remembering things that I didn't even do--things from before when I actually showed up." She looked at Danielle with interest. "How did you explain yourself, anyway? And how did you get here?"
"Apparently I was found unconscious in the street. Typical, right? I just told them I had amnesia, same as you."
"And they bought it, in both our cases." Krista rolled her eyes. "Apparently some people even found that attractive."
"Yeah, about your admirer," Danielle said thoughtfully. "When is his trial, anyway?"
"Right now it's set for a couple of weeks from now, but the handmaidens are coming over to discuss it with us at lunch today. Amidala, being a Queen and all, can get a really good prosecutor, but so can the Gerogonians. She's popular with the Senate, though--she thinks we have a really good chance of putting his ass in jail for a loooong time."
"Good riddance," Danielle said sharply. "Jail is exactly where he belongs."
There was a little silence. Neither of them seemed to know what to say next. Then, finally, Krista asked softly, "Do you know why we're here?"
Danielle couldn't resist. Giving her famous smile, she said, "So, since you've given up on Christianity, you've decided to try existentialism? That's a new one for you."
Krista snorted and smacked Danielle lightly on the arm. "Don't be stupid. I meant, why are we here, in Star Wars?"
Danielle sobered. "I dunno. I wish I did, though. I really do. In fact, I think we should be--"
She was cut off, unexpectedly, as a young man who had been walking alongside them abruptly lowered his head, bumped it into Danielle's shoulder, and gave a loud, "Be-GOK!" rather resembling the noise a chicken makes, before darting off into the crowd.
The two girls stood for a moment, silent. "That was odd," Danielle said at last.
Krista frowned. "That looked . . . kinda like Laura's brother, didn't it?"
There was another silence. Then, in unison, both girls said, "Nah," and headed back for the temple.
Back in the Temple, they stopped again at the apartment before Danielle said it was time for her to visit the creche. She offered to let Krista join her, but the other girl declined, claiming she'd rather have a little alone-time to get acquainted with her new music. With a precautionary warning ("don't break anything vital, don't hit on any Jedi, and don't piss off the fish"), Danielle departed for the creche, leaving Krista to her own devices.
It wasn't long at all before Krista grew a little bored. The apartment was certainly interesting enough to look at--the floating particle sculpture sparkled serenely in the morning sun and the chenille rug was wonderfully soft under her toes--but there was very little to actually do. When she grew weary of her music, she settled herself at the terminal and messed around with the Star Wars version of the internet for a while, but quickly grew bored again. It wasn't long before she decided that she really needed some sort of daytime hobby. Tomorrow, she'd go with Danielle to the creche, and see what else there was to do around here. In the meantime, however, she still had two hours before the handmaidens came over for lunch.
But what to do in the meantime?
Deciding she might as well explore the apartment, she set off on a little prowl, grinning every time she discovered some insane decoration that reminded her intensely of Danielle, and thinking how incredibly interesting it would be to live here. However, when she reached her and Danielle's bedroom, she stopped short--then began to grin hugely. In the middle of the bed, sound asleep, lay Sweetums, purring lightly.
It is also a very well-known fact that there are two types of people in the world: cat people, and non-cat people. Krista, unfortunately, was one of the latter--but, for reasons that may have stemmed from any number of things including insanity, mental retardation or criminal stupidity, she had a strange and undeniable fascination with felines. She simply loved to torment them. And Sweetums, no matter how large and prickly he may be, was still a cat in her book. Thus, torment was in order.
With a huge grin, she headed into the room and closed the door behind her.
Danielle was halfway down the hall, on her way to the apartment, when she heard the shrieking. Realizing it was coming from her own apartment, she burst into a sprint, praying to God nothing horrible had happened.
She kicked the door open with little preamble and shot into the apartment, in complete battle-alert mode. At the total chaos that met her eyes, however, she stopped, dumbstruck.
The apartment looked like a tornado had gone through it. Nothing seemed to be broken, but furniture, blankets, and even kitchen utensils were strewn haphazardly all over the floor. To the left of her, a barbecue fork appeared to be stuck in the wall. As she walked further in, shocked into silence, she realized the damage grew worse as she approached the balcony. When she grew near enough to see beyond it, however, her first reaction was rage--then, unexpectedly, she began laughing so hard she had to sit down.
Out on the balcony, growling up a storm, was Sweetums, every hair bristling and the occasional angry yip sneaking out. Near to him floated Gumbi, looking about as aggravated as it was possible for a fish to look. Krista, in contrast, was hovering in thin air several feet away from the rail of the balcony, making desperate and wholly ineffectual swimming motions. Instead of trying to return to the balcony, though, she was headed away from it--unsurprising, really, considering that Sweetums had perched himself on the rail and was stretched out as far as it was physically possible for him to go, desperately trying to reach Krista.
When Danielle started laughing, Krista's head whipped around, startled, and her eyes latched onto her friend. For a moment she hung there, looking shamefaced--then she had the cheek to grin and shrug, a strange expression coming from someone levitating several dozen meters above the ground. "Hey, Danielle. How was your day?"
Danielle was sitting in bed later that night, awake, when she heard the soft voice from the other side of the room. "Danielle?"
She glanced over and through the moonlight could make out her friend, stretched out amidst a pile of cushions on the floor, looking at her quizzically. "You awake?"
"Yeah," she whispered back, patting the bed beside her. Krista, still clutching one of her blankets to her, scrambled up to join her on the bed, and together they sat quietly.
"What a first day," Danielle said lightly, her voice somewhere between amused and disapproving.
Krista scowled at her. "And what did you do on your first day here? Sure as hell didn't accept it like it happens everyday, I bet."
Danielle blinked. "I--" laughed hysterically until I passed out. "I certainly didn't get in as much trouble as you did."
"Well, it wasn't my fault. Your stupid frickin' fish got a vendetta against me after I tossed him at Sweetums. That thing has it in for me, Danielle. What if it really decides to kill me?"
"Survival of the fittest," Danielle shrugged, apparently unconcerned.
Krista huffed. "Well, it's not like you've done better than me at fitting in. I 'recovered my memories' within a few days, and started blending right in with the other handmaidens at the palace." When Danielle giggled helplessly, Krista narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Just . . . the phrase 'the other handmaidens' was a little too much to handle just now," she explained, still grinning broadly. "Well, my first few days here I was pretty much wondering how I got here, and how I'd get home--" Abruptly, she stopped mid-sentence, growing rigid as she sat. Krista, beside her, did the same.
After some time, Krista broke the eerie silence. "Danielle," she whispered, "how long has it been since you thought about home? I mean, real home--Earth."
Danielle didn't answer at first. "A long time."
Krista started getting little weird shivery sensations all over her. "Okay, something isn't right here. Why haven't we been trying harder to get home? And how did we get here, anyway?"
Danielle shook her head, a heavy, headachey sensation starting to creep into her skull. "I--I don't know. I'm not sure, at least. At first I was trying so hard not to make them think I'm crazy that I couldn't focus on anything else, but now . . . Even when you showed up I didn't . . ."
"Something is definitely not right here," Krista repeated, another wave of premonition washing over her. "Something . . . it's like something is keeping us from thinking about that stuff."
"And if we're here . . ." Danielle's voice trailed off, and her brow furrowed in thought. "Wait a minute. What was I about to say?"
Krista racked her brain, feeling as though she was coming up against some sort of mental wall. "Something about 'if we're here'."
"Oh, yeah." Suddenly, concentrating was very hard, and Danielle wanted nothing more than to fall asleep or talk about anything else but this. "If . . . we're here," she said, very slowly and deliberately, "then . . . where are . . ."
She was cut off by a distant, but unmistakable, scream.
Both girls froze. "Did you hear that?" Krista asked at last, voice shaking.
"A scream?"
"Okay, you heard it. But what was it?"
They waited a moment, shaking a little, until they heard another sound. "Help! Help! Someone--please!"
They waited a moment before speaking. "What do you think it is?" Danielle asked, voice shaking.
"Sounds an awful lot like someone screaming," Krista replied, equally unsettled. "But . . . there's got to be some reason for it. Nothing that bad can be happening. I mean, we are in the Jedi Temple. Someone else would hear it . . . someone would stop it." When Danielle didn't answer, she pressed, "Right?"
Then the voice screamed again. "Oh, Force, please help me, please," and it trailed off into sobs.
Neither girl spoke again. They flew from the bed in a flurry of motion, scrabbling for shoes and Danielle grabbing the handgun in the nightstand, then flew out of their room and then out of the apartment without a backward glance.
Strangely enough, in the hall they could hear the sobs even still, complete with muffled screams. Exchanging a horrified glance, the two girls took off down the silent corridors, half-expecting with every step to be told that this was some kind of joke or to go back to their beds.
The path to the noise seemed to be painfully clear, but no matter how quickly they ran toward it, they never seemed to get any closer. Their progress was nightmarish, their feet almost seeming to be mired in mud and the screaming never ceasing, not even for a moment.
After several minutes Krista threw herself to a stop and grabbed Danielle's arm, stopping her as well. They were into a more deserted section of the temple now, halls upon halls of isolation cells where Masters could find peace from Temple stresses and the walls ate up sound. "This is ridiculous!" she spat. "We must be . . . hallucinating or something! This isn't real!"
Danielle opened her mouth . . . and the girl screamed again. This time, however, it echoed through the hallway and in their ears, and there was something different about it, more tangible than it had been before.
The two girls locked eyes, and realized in that moment that they hadn't been able to actually hear her before. All the screaming up until now had been completely in their minds.
Exchanging one last horrified glance, they took off again toward the screams.
This time they rounded only two corners before they came upon their target. In the dimness, they could barely make out a young girl, one of Danielle's friends from the creche, cringing against the wall in terror, her clothing torn and a dark bruise blooming on one cheek. And, in the shadows, the looming form of another figure over her, darker, reaching toward her in obvious menace.
For a moment neither girl spoke; they couldn't even draw breath to breathe, so great was their horror and so thick the sense of unreality. It was as though the glittering atmosphere of the Temple, formerly so pristine and cheerful, had been thrown into sudden and terrible sharpness, revealed as a place with nightmares as well as dreams . . . just like any other.
And the little girl--for she was no more than eight--was one of the children who still visited the creche occasionally, soon to be apprenticed to a Master and continue in her training. It was a girl Danielle saw and played with every day, a girl who was infinitely precious to her.
Instantly, and without warning, the unreality and dreamlike helplessness drained out of her, and she was filled with rage like nothing she'd ever known she could feel.
"Hey!" Danielle screamed, throwing herself to a stop and leveling her gun to point it at the man. Her hands shook, but it was with hatred instead of fear, and she had no doubt about her aim.
The man's head jerked up, startled; he had somehow failed to notice their approach. When he took them in, however, his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. "More Jedi," he hissed, eyes flat and teeth gritted in hatred. "Just like this little brat. I'll make you pay for this! You bitches won't rule the galaxy forever--we'll send you to hell where you all belong . . . starting with this little witch." And, as Danielle and Krista watched in horror, he raised his gun and leveled it at the young girl in front of him.
Danielle's mind went white.
The next thing she knew, she was staggering backward, her whole body aching and her ears ringing, and Krista was grabbing her to steady her. She looked up, and realized in total astonishment that the man was collapsed on the floor, unconscious, a trickle of blood running from each ear. She'd dropped the gun at some point to extend her hands before her . . . and they were crackling with white-gold sparks that she could barely feel pricking her skin. The young girl, unharmed, rose slowly to her feet, a look of awe and disbelief on her face, and she finally realized that Krista was saying, over and over, "Oh my god, Danielle, what did you do?"
But she couldn't answer, because at that moment she fainted dead away.
******************************************************************************
Annie awoke, unsurprisingly, to heat.
Now, when have I felt this before? she thought groggily, slowly returning to consciousness. As she lifted her head and looked around her, blinking, she realized she way laying in the sand in the middle of some deserted street, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. Woozily, she staggered to her feet, trying to get her bearings as best she could.
As soon as her head cleared her memory returned, and she almost gasped aloud. Luke! That terrifying man who had claimed to want her for some dark purpose . . . She'd been in the Imperial base--where was she now? And how had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was the confrontation--then the man grabbing her necklace . . .
Instinctively Annie reached up, and was startled to realize that it still hung around her neck, seemingly undamaged. For a moment she couldn't find anything strange about that, then she remembered--he'd snapped it, ripping it from her neck. That was when everything had gone dark, she recalled. And now . . .
She stared at it for untold minutes, trying to fathom just what was going on, before she shook her head ruefully and dropped the pendant. She could figure out that particular mystery later. Right now she needed to know where she was and how she'd gotten here. She needed to find Luke, and then see if Cassie and Essra were all right. Then, only then, would she let herself think about the mystery of her unharmed necklace and the terrifying man who'd claimed to know who she was.
Setting off across the sands with a purposeful stride, she headed for what looked to be the nearest reputable building. At this hour of the morning, she imagined very little was open, but she would settle with whatever she could find.
After some considerable searching, she finally settled on a nearby restaurant/bar that seemed to be accepting patrons. Stepping inside, she glanced around for any familiar faces and, finding none, seated herself at the bar and tried to look casual. When the bartender demanded her order, she smilingly asked for water, a request which earned her an incredulous snort and looks of contempt from all the other customers.
There was a holoscreen playing in the corner, and Annie half payed attention to it as she sipped her water, trying to think. All right. She didn't know what town she was in, let alone what part of it--and she was only assuming she was still on Tatooine. She really could be anywhere in the galaxy.
By eavesdropping on the conversation next to her, she managed to ascertain that she was indeed in Mos Eisley again. Home sweet home, she thought in mild amusement. The truth of this, however, unsettled her. If she was home, why had no one recognized her yet? More importantly, why hadn't she recognized anything? Everything around her seemed so . . . familiar, and yet different, like another version of the same town.
Perplexed, she was again lost in her thoughts, trying to formulate some coherent form of action, when the drone of the holoscreen distracted her from her inner conflict. Some smarmy alien reporter was reading the headlines in a bored monotone, but her ears couldn't help but prick up at a familiar name. " . . . continued disputes as to the Trade Federation's recent activity, especially concerning the shipping rights and prerogatives of smaller planets such as Corsica and Naboo . . ."
Annie frowned a little. Naboo? It was still around by this time in the galaxy? She'd always imagined that Vader must have destroyed it or something, for it to become so completely unimportant. How very odd. Another strange thought struck her. And . . . the Trade Federation? It hadn't been disbanded either? Curiouser and curiouser, her inner hypocrite supplied.
She zoned back in to the report, sensing somehow that what she was hearing was very important. " . . . appeals in the Senate as to the specifics of the treaties restricting trade corporations' control over independent planets. However, due to a recent increase in the dissatisfaction with the Chancellor and the Senate as a whole, the proceedings are continuing very slowly, and Valorum himself now holds little power to respond to the appeals . . ."
Annie stared, blankly, at the screen. Valorum. Chancellor Valorum. That couldn't be. He'd been given the Vote of No Happiness or whatever the heck that had been in the first movie . . . right? How was it possible that he was Chancellor again? And . . . she seemed to remember hearing, in A New Hope, that the Emperor had done away with the Senate entirely. There was no way they could have put it back together so quickly.
Annie leaned back in her seat, feeling a strange sense of unreality mixed with deja vu. Everything she'd heard so far led her to the same conclusion, and considering what had happened to her so far, it wasn't really that far-fetched. But . . . why?
Deciding she might as well be certain, she tapped the patron next to her on the shoulder and then smiled at him disarmingly when he scowled at her in response. "Excuse me . . . do you know when the next . . . uh . . . pod-race is being held?"
He eyed her warily, obviously surprised that such a clean and reputable looking young woman would be interested in such a sport. "Two weeks from tomorrow," he said slowly. "What's it to you?"
"Just curious." Pod-racing, eh? Annie knew for almost certain that the sport had been extinct in her time. But now for the ultimate clincher. "Is Jabba going to be hosting it again?"
The other man shook his head. "Nah. He's just going to be watching this one. Taking a bit of a break to actually enjoy the race for once, so I hear."
Well. That did it, then. She'd really gone back in time, because she knew for a fact that Jabba the Hutt had been killed only a few weeks after her arrival. If he was alive . . . there was no telling how far back in time she'd gone.
Inspiration struck her suddenly. "Er, you wouldn't happen to know if there's a human boy racing this time, would you? Name of Anakin Skywalker?"
The man glared at her. "Human? Humans can't pod race. They don't have the reflexes. Now lemme alone, girl." With another wicked look, he turned back to his drink.
Annie sat back, lost in thought. Well. That meant she had skipped right back to before the Phantom Menace, just as all the news on the holoscreen had seemed to be indicating. God help her. Not only was she in some nonexistent universe, she was hopping around in its timeline, too. What was up with that, anyway? Another horrible thought struck her. This was before her time, too. She was no longer rich or famous, and she once again didn't have a friend in the world. She was completely on her own.
Depressed by the turn her thoughts were taking, she firmly crushed them and tried to be proactive (one of the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, a little voice that sounded frighteningly like her Jr. High principal supplied). Deciding she might as well get to know the lay of the land a little better, she finished her water and headed out into the glaring morning sun. The city had begun to wake up a little, and more pedestrians crowded the street, striding purposefully toward some unknown destination or hawking their wares to unsuspecting travelers. Annie walked casually down the street, seeking anything that looked even vaguely familiar, wondering who in this galaxy she could trust.
Annie felt every bit as lost as she had when she had first woken up, unconscious, as a slave in the possession of some unsavory character. God, what did she do now? She wasn't even sure when she was, just that she was out of her time and thus out of her element. And Mos Eisley was hardly a good city to be alone and friendless and lost in. A horrible sense of unfairness rose up inside of her. Could things have gone any more wrong than they had? She'd woken up a slave and then immediately been determined insane. After that, she had become the target of Imperial stormtroopers and was forced to put herself in a very awkward situation to get away from them. She had done more things to simply survive her first hour than she had ever imagined she was capable of.
The thought gave her pause for a moment. It was true, she realized. This little sojourn into a freakish galaxy and her encounters with evil was truly giving her a chance to see how capable and adaptable she was. Because, despite it all, she was alive and kicking. Ha, she thought, a little cheered. Wait'll I tell the others about this. They'll never believe me in a million years, yeah, but so? Laura would probably say it would make a great story.
Turning aside from this cheerful but frivolous train of thoughts, she returned to her original lament. She'd achieved temporary stability and even happiness as singer, but that hadn't lasted very long at all before life had once again come and screwed her over royally. The Imperials had come calling, sending her fleeing in the night and leaving Cassie to an unknown fate. Then, when she was alone and friendless in the desert, who had to find her but the Sand People, the infamous moisture thieves.
True, that predicament had ended by being saved by none other than Obi-Wan himself and had also let her meet Luke, her all-time favorite Star Wars hero, but even that had been short-lived. In embarking to rescue her friends and confront the Imperials, they had walked into a trap and Annie had encountered a truly terrifying individual who claimed to know who she was and why she was here, and had had no trouble whatsoever getting past Luke. She wondered, almost idly, if he--no, IT--was the one who had sent her back in time. She wouldn't be at all surprised. That was just the way things had been going for her recently.
All in all, she summed up, scuffing at the sand with her boot, she didn't seem to be having the best of luck at living in another galaxy. It was almost as though this world were mocking her.
A thought occurred to her, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a hint of a smile. Could be worse, she thought ruefully. Could be--
Her head jerked up at an sudden booming thunderclap. No sooner had she taken this in than the entire sky darkened and, almost out of nowhere, the heavens opened on her and she found herself caught in the middle of a horrendous downpour.
For a moment Annie just stood there, dumbfounded. This was Tatooine--a frickin' DESERT planet. It NEVER rained here. EVER. Unless . . .
Not caring who was watching, she tipped her head back and shook a fist at the sky. "It's not fair! I hate this! I don't care who or what you are or what you think you're doing, but I swear this isn't over!" And, with a little huff of rage, she turned on a dime and dashed for the nearest open doorway.
Inside, she stopped just under the doorframe to push back the hood of her cloak and give herself a thorough, dog-like shake. Within mere instants the normal downpour had turned into what felt like buckets of water simply being dumped out from above, and already the packed sandy ground was beginning to show the effects of so much unexpected water. Soaked to the bone, she shivered a little at the sudden drastic change in temperature and blinked as her eyes adjusted.
She appeared to be in some third-rate mechanics shop--a la Watto's, she thought ruefully. Just as Cassie's bar had strongly resembled the one in A New Hope. At least whoever was the pulling the strings Up There could be a little more creative with their blueprints.
There were only two other patrons in the shop: a small, rodent-like being who scrabbled happily through a pile of some unidentifiable pieces of junk on the floor, and a young woman approximately her age who stood near the main counter, apparently waiting on someone. She glanced idly over at Annie as she came in and nodded coolly, and Annie, a little surprised, returned the gesture.
Deciding she might as well look around until the rain cleared up, since she sure as heck wasn't going anywhere, she browsed randomly through the room. She hadn't been in the galaxy long enough to recognize anything specifically, but she was fairly certain most of the items were sale were components for ships, speeders, or weapons. Jolly.
Her attention was diverted a minute later when the proprietor of the shop magically appeared behind the counter. He was a tall, humanoid alien with long tentacles instead of arms, and he shot Annie an indescribably smarmy smirk before turning back to the young woman at the counter. Annie eavesdropped, out of sheer boredom, and was surprised at what she overheard.
"Do you have it?" the young woman asked, a note of barely restrained hope in her voice.
The alien smiled at her again, displaying multiple rows of very pointy teeth. "That all depends. How much are you willing to give me for it?"
The woman barely restrained an expression of disgust. "Look, I'm not here to play games. Either you have it or you don't. There are plenty of other shops in this town. I can easily go to one of those."
"Not right now, you can't," the alien returned with a little laugh. "Not unless you fancy drowning in the open air, that is."
The woman's nostrils flared once, lightly, as she obviously restrained her anger. "I can wait."
The alien looked at her, and Annie noticed as he did the way her leg joggled impatiently, how her fingertips drummed the countertop incessantly. "Can you?" he asked cannily. "You seem to be in something of a . . . rush . . . to me."
She met him glare for glare. "That's none of your business. The only thing you should concern yourself with is whether or not you're willing to sell me that Equilibrilator."
"I don't know," the alien smirked. "Ask me again tomorrow, and I'll tell you then."
The woman gave a little hiss of anger. "Look, I'm not entirely certain why you are so set on aggravating me, but it accomplishes nothing. Wouldn't you rather have my business than my displeasure?"
The alien's smile instantly became unpleasant. "In case you haven't noticed, ma'am, we don't take very kindly to offworlders around here. I suggest you take your ship and buy your damn Equilibrilator somewhere else and get the hell off this planet."
She stepped back, obviously surprised, and Annie blinked. How could the man tell she was an offworlder? She had an accent, true, and her clothes were strange around here, but she herself was far stranger and had been immediately accepted into the fold. Then again, she reasoned, that had been many years in the future. Perhaps they were more used to foreigners by that time.
The woman retreated to the front of the store, by where Annie stood. She seemed so rattled that Annie couldn't help but comment to her. "Don't mind him," she said softly. "Not everyone around here is so down on offworlders. Any of the other dozen stores on this street will probably help you."
The young woman looked at Annie, obviously surprised, then smiled. "Thank you. It has begun to get a little . . . discouraging. And I lied; I am indeed in something of a hurry. I am supposed to be meeting . . . someone, with the Equilibrilator, and I am continually being delayed." She shook her head. "And this rain . . . it is unnatural."
Annie couldn't restrain a little snort. "That's one word for it, all right," she agreed quietly.
The woman gave her a strange look, obviously assessing Annie: a young woman about her own age, native dress, but a decidedly un-native accent, manner, and friendliness. Annie, likewise, observed her; she was a fairly striking young woman, her skin unusually pale for this planet, her hair falling in thick black waves past her shoulders, and her clothing falling in black ripples to her feet. She was, Annie had to admit, very obviously foreign.
"You aren't from around here either," she said abruptly, interrupting Annie's musings. When Annie looked at her, startled, she asked, "Are you?"
Annie thought about this a moment, then shrugged. "No."
"Where are you from?"
Annie gave a little smile. "Oh, all over the place, really."
The other girl gave her a strangely knowing look. "Yet you've been here a while."
Annie looked at her, surprised again. "You're pretty good at guessing things," she said slowly, but the woman merely grinned. "So they tell me."
Annie decided she could only shrug it off. "So what brings you to Tatooine?"
The woman's face closed a little. "Business," she said tersely.
From her expression Annie guessed it wouldn't be wise to pry further. "And how do you like it so far?"
The woman shrugged, but it was impossible to keep the contempt from her eyes. "It's . . . Uncivilized. Dirty. And very, very sandy. In fact--" Abruptly, she cut herself off with a shriek. "Oh, Mithros!"
At first Annie was alarmed. Then she realized the cause of the woman's alarm was a large sandy spider-like creature now crawling up her right leg. With the ease of long practice, Annie knocked it off onto the floor, scuffed sand into it to confuse it, then landed on it with a quick CRUNCH, smashing it into the sand. She stepped back, casually, and scraped the guck from the bottom of her boots on a rung placed near the door for that very purpose.
The other young woman was staring at her almost in awe. "You--what--?"
Annie was suddenly a little embarrassed. "It's just a sand-spider," she shrugged. "They're really common around here. You figure out how to deal with them very quickly."
The woman cocked her head a moment, studying Annie with renewed interest, then broke into a dazzling grin. "My savior," she beamed, a hint of laughter in her voice. "My knight in shining armor."
Annie was getting really embarrassed now. "Look, it's really nothing," she assured the other girl, flushing a little.
"Not to me. You'd think that after everything I've faced--" Seeing Annie's strange look, she cut herself off, then continued, "I actually have a paralyzing fear of spiders."
"Me too!" Annie exclaimed. "I mean, I did. I just got so used to those things that I don't even think about killing them any more."
The woman smiled, then extended a hand. "I'm Dru."
"Annie," she replied, clasping the offered hand cheerfully. "It's nice to meet you, Dru." She paused. "Is that your full name?"
"No, but there are very few people living who know my full name, and only because there was no human way to avoid it," Dru answered with a little grimace.
"So . . . you'll be leaving soon?" Annie asked, trying to make conversation.
"Yeah. As soon as I meet with my . . . friend, we're headed off this rock and back home."
"Where is home?"
"Coruscant," she replied, a little wary again. "Any reason why you want to know?"
She was certainly awfully suspicious, Annie thought. "No, no real reason. I was just curious. So, who is this friend of yours?"
Dru looked a little shifty again. "He's just . . . a friend. About our age, guy named Wes."
"Oh. Neat." From her expression, Annie could tell she really didn't want to talk about it anymore, so she was content to let it drop.
Dru seemed about to say something, but she was cut off as a door in the back slammed open, attracting everyone's attention. As Annie watched, dumbfounded, a group of thoroughly soaked but still quite intimidating thugs, all with a sort of insignia tattooed on their arms, spilled into the shop. "There they are!" one of the guards cried, pointing directly at Dru . . . and herself. "Get them!"
"Them?" Annie echoed in horror, and Dru looked at her in surprise. "No time for questions," she barked, grabbing Annie by the arm. "Run!"
The two girls took off into the street, Annie deciding that her challenge to the heavens had just been answered. When they crossed the threshold it was like stepping into a swimming pool; sandy water splashed around their ankles and the rain was pouring down so hard it was impossible to see more than 10 feet in front of them. With no dirt to sink into and no place to run off, the water was simply building, and would soon flood into any nearby establishments.
Annie gasped, having a little trouble breathing, but was jerked into action by Dru, who was still yanking her along like a fish on a wire. Tripping and stumbling, she tried vainly to keep up with the other girl, who she sensed would be moving like a flash if not burdened with Annie.
They shot across the street, splashing hugely as they went, and turned into an alley. It was a dead end, but this apparently posed no challenge to Dru; she vaulted right over the low wall at the other end like it was something she did daily. As Annie stared, flabbergasted, she reached down and dragged her over as well, just before their anonymous pursuers turned into the alley.
"Who are those people, and why are they chasing us?" Annie yelled above the boom of the thunder and the splashing their feet made as they ran.
"They're . . . ah . . . the reason I was trying to leave in such a hurry," Dru explained sheepishly. Annie groaned, wondering just what she'd gotten herself into this time. "Why do they want me?"
"Probably just 'cause you were talking to me," Dru yelled back. "They're getting awfully paranoid by this point."
Annie decided she'd just as well not know what Dru meant by that.
The mad goose chase took an unexpected twist when they turned another corner and stepped into what was obviously lower ground--thus plunging themselves into water that was waist-deep instead of merely ankle-deep.
Half running and half dogpaddling, the two girls tried to move as quickly as they could to elude their pursuers. Their antagonists, however, were quite persistent; when they spotted the two girls they didn't bother to go in the water after them. Instead, they merely stood at the edge and began taking shots at them, making the water around them begin to hiss and sputter with near misses. When one came so close Annie felt the heat of it on her cheek, Dru grabbed her hand and, without warning, dragged her under the water.
Annie closed her eyes against the grit of the water and struggled not to choke as Dru dragged her along with ruthless efficiency. She didn't know how long the underwater journey lasted; she only knew that by the time Dru let her surface, her lungs were screaming for air and she felt a little dizzy. She wasn't given time to recuperate, however; they blundered up a pair of underwater steps and onto ground where the water was only an inch deep and took off running again.
Dodging a few more spattering shots, Dru yanked them down another side street, some destination obviously in mind. For a moment Annie realized they'd left the pursuit behind, and she was filled with elation as she thought they might actually be in the clear . . . then there was a shout ahead of them, and Dru slammed them to a stop as another dozen armed guards spilled out of the opening ahead of them, cutting them off. She turned to go back the other way, but another mass of guards cut her off, leveling their blasters at the two girls menacingly.
And now, Annie thought dispassionately, my day is complete.
"Halt!" one of the guards called in a gravelly voice. "Stop or we shoot, fiends!"
"Fiends?" Annie said drily, almost beyond caring at this point.
Dru didn't answer her. She merely watched, glowering, as they were surrounded by the guards, all of whom were eyeing them extremely warily. "Put binders on 'em and ship 'em out," another ordered. "Ixian said he wanted 'em alive if possible. And BE CAREFUL; we've seen what they can do."
Annie considered demanding some sort of explanation, but thought better of it when she saw the expression on Dru's face. Nothing for it, then. She was going back into the clutches of yet another evil fiend. At this rate she might set a record.
Before the guard bearing the shackles could reach them, however, Dru suddenly sprang back a pace, startling everyone. Tipping her head back and cupping her hands to her mouth, she cried clearly above the noise of the storm, "WES!"
For a moment there was no response, and Annie was afraid her friend was slightly insane. Then, out of nowhere, there was a loud noise, and they all looked up in shock. There, on a nearby rooftop, stood a shadowed figure, dressed in a billowing cloak and silhouetted against the distant lighting. He shouted something incoherent back, reached into his robe, and tossed something at Dru. It appeared to be small, and faintly cylindrical, and Annie wondered how he possibly thought it could reach her through the storm. Dru, however, merely raised her hand, and, almost miraculously, the cylinder fell into it.
Annie barely had time to register what had happened before Dru gently shoved her out of harm's way and fell into a habitual crouch. Even as the other figure--Wes, Annie assumed-- somersaulted off the roof and into the midst of the stunned guards, she depressed a button on the cylinder . . . and with a marvelously familiar snap-hiss, a shimmering violet blade sprang into life. At her side, Wes, still cloaked, did the same, and the light of his blue lightsaber cut through the rain.
Jedi, Annie realized, stunned, as she stared up at them from the watery floor. Dru was a *Jedi*, and obviously the mysterious Wes was as well. Well, no wonder everyone was after her.
Then, she didn't have time to think anymore, because several things happened at once; Wes pressed a blaster into her unwilling hand, the guards recovered from their shock and all started firing at once, and Dru and Wes went spinning into motion like two avenging angels.
From there on out, everything was chaos.
But then, when hadn't it been?