Author's Notes: Took me a while to get going on this chapter, but I made it through – I've made a leap in time, but I felt it was necessary to not only move the story on, but to get me to where I needed to get. Tell me if I go too fast or ought – I really don't want to ruin things and make it all seem rushed.
In another 'announcement', I'm going to split Eclipse into two parts – the second part will take place about a year after the first, but it'll still be archived here under this one file. It's another (though bigger) leap in time that I feel I need to make when I'm ready, though I'll make sure I can pull it off without missing too much out first.
Also, if you ask me any questions or make suggestions in your reviews, I'll put them up in the 'Fan Corner' of the Eclipse FL[1] site – spoilers and all. Read at own risk. ^_^
Shadow-Angel: Thankies! I hope I can keep you entertained!
Strider's Girl: what is this 'happy ending'…? ^_~ Hey, the real Episode III isn't going to end happily anyway, so there's lil hope for when I get there in this dark fic!
Merrymoll: I wrote that 'sky analogy' thing when I was on the train, my way to London, to see the great Christopher Lee himself, back in May – but I don't know where it came from! Perhaps it had something to do with my head being in the clouds…^_^ LOL. And when Anakin does get to Dooku, all Hell will break loose…I hope I can pull it off!
theroguephoenix: Have we met before? ^_^ Welcome if not! And I'll keep updating as fast as I can, but I do try to be thorough with my chapters!
PadawanMage: Dooku told Padmé about Sidious/Palpy in Chapter 1! ^_^ And I want you to be confused, and to guess about everything – that's the fun of being an author! Reader manipulation! Mwa ha ha! u_u Heh. Keep reading!
bexmix: Writing Padmé has been really difficult, so I'm glad it seems convincing. I mean, trying to write someone who believes they've been…erm…'abused', yet isn't completely sure, and has to live with that, and try and cooperate with the man she suspects of the crime is very hard. I'm doing my best. ^_^ Thanks!
Kathy: Welcome to Eclipse – I don't think we've met, have we? I used to know a Kathy on Chris Lee's site, but there's gonna be more than one of you online, right? ^_^ I'll go as fast as I can, but again, I try to be thorough…and I'm writing two fics at once, to add to that!
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"ECLIPSE"
Part 17
Boba watched out of the hangar door as around a hundred ships, filled with Battle Droids, both traditional and super, and the infamous Droidekas, rose into the air, making up the new and improved fleet of the Confederate Army. He was bored, still on Geonosis, and still insensitive to the goings on around him; nothing meant much to him now that his dad wasn't there; he didn't have any one to guide him and little direction of his own…he just had his father's ship, Slave 1, his father's helmet, and whatever else was left in the hull of his father's old vessel. And he had the company of Poggle the Lesser, of course, the incomprehensible Archduke…
Boba currently held his father's helmet under his arm – he hadn't let it out of his sight since the Geonosian battle, often putting it on to see what it looked like. It was still a bit too big for him, meaning that he couldn't see out of the visor properly, but he knew basically how to work it, his father having taught him about virtually all of his contraptions and weapons.
He sighed, hanging his head, his mop of black hair swaying in the warm, uncomfortable breeze that flittered in through the hangar door from the Geonosian desert beyond.
Suddenly, young Fett heard the 'tap, tap' of Poggle's cane approaching from behind. He turned with a groan, setting his hard, dark eyes on the haughty Geonosian as he approached him, accompanied by some large, cloak-covered guy with a frightening, reptilian visage.
["It has been the hardest few days of my life!"] Poggle sighed melodramatically, wafting his spindly arm toward the young boy, ["We two do not understand one another, so communication has been impossible. I don't know what Count Dooku was thinking, leaving the brat here with me."]
Boba glared between Poggle and his guest suspiciously, giving them both an unwelcoming look, his senses telling him that he was the subject of their conversation.
"The Count has had better things to do than care for some second-rate, clone child…" Passel Argente hissed, as though he too presumed the boy would not hear or understand him.
Boba's stare intensified upon the scaly magistrate of the Corporate Alliance…'second-rate' indeed.
["The boy was his responsibility. He employed his father, so he should automatically take guardianship for the child,"] Poggle went on.
"And where do I come into this?" Argente queried abruptly, becoming rather impatient – he wanted to get on with things and get away from this wretched planet, so that he could move on to his next destination, as requested by the Count, as soon as possible; Geonosis was bad news to him, and he didn't fancy being cornered here for another ground battle by the Republic again.
Poggle gestured toward Boba, inducing him to approach, ["Please, take him with you. I have more than enough on my hands here, with ongoing repairs to my foundries running side-by-side with the manufacture of the Count's droids. Give the boy over to him as soon as you can."]
Argente turned a grisly stare upon the young clone of Jango, an indiscreet hiss emerging between his riveted lips, "With me?" he growled, "I can do without little boys on my vessels. We will not be seeing the Count for some time – you know he is not coming with us."
Poggle was now becoming annoyed with Argente, and pursed his lips for a brief moment, before continuing in as agreeable a nature as he could, ["I did say please. I cannot care for him here, and he at least can understand you, my dear Magistrate. He will be little trouble, he is an independent young lad."]
"If he is anything other than silent, I will tear out his voice box and make him eat it for his supper!" Passel hissed vilely, clenching a tight fist toward Poggle. Boba tried to remain unmoved, but couldn't help but put his hand to his throat, concerned for his voice's welfare.
["You will take him, then?"] Poggle asked optimistically, seemingly indifferent as to what happened to Boba once the boy was out of his hands.
"Fine," the magistrate nodded, "But I won't be doing you any more favours, Archduke. Understood?"
Poggle nodded rapidly, ["Yes, yes…"] he sighed, wafting a hand toward Argente, ["I will not forget."]
The magistrate slowly gestured for Boba to come to him, "Get together your things. You're coming with me."
"What about my dad's ship?" Boba asked him sourly, reluctant to go with him, "I can't leave it here."
"You can fetch it when you're old enough," Passel snapped, "I'm doing you a wholly uncalled for favour, so come along silently, or I'll make you a permanent mute! Do we understand one another?"
Young Fett's gaze tightened on Argente once again, but he thought that the sooner he managed to away from Poggle, the better, so opted to behave himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be long until Dooku took him back under his wing – the Count had been good to his father, so, with any luck, the Count would be good to him, too.
"Yes, sir," Boba nodded gruffly in response to Argente's brusque query, "I understand you completely."
"Good," Passel snarled, grabbing the boy by the arm, and ushering him along, "Now hurry up and get your things. We have a war to instigate!"
Boba's lip twitched in irritation as the magistrate took a firm hold on his arm; he yanked it out of his grasp and tottered off as quickly as he could. Poggle watched him go, shaking his head, ["More than I've been able to get him to do all week,"] he griped.
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2 weeks later…
The dust of the Geonosian conflicts seemed to have long settled now, but, though the war was 'on', things had been ominously quiet in the Republic. Apart from two minor skirmishes at Iridonia and Carida respectively, there had been no other clashes between Republican and Separatists forces. Some impatient persons speculated that the Separatists had little or no arsenal left, with it all having been knocked out on Geonosis, but the majority knew better than that; the Separatists, where ever they were, were quietly regrouping and preparing to strike…
And it took them a fortnight to finally make their next move in this giant game of intergalactic chess:
"They're at Sullust."
The entire gathering in the Supreme Chancellor's office stared at Mace Windu in a numb disbelief as he made this announcement concerning the movements of the seemingly inert Separatists.
"Sullust?" Bail Antilles asked in return, just to break the uneasy silence.
"Yes, and our sources confirm complete with reinforcements," Windu assented gravely, his hands clasped behind his back, his tone solemn.
"I thought we had depleted their forces on Geonosis?" Senator Orn Free Taa asked in his deep baritone, rubbing one of his fat-filled lekkus in gesture.
"We obviously didn't make a good enough job of it," Palpatine interjected sharply, sat back in his large, black chair, his eyes icy and focused; "I'm guessing that the entire planet was not covered in the late conflicts?"
"It would have taken a long time to find all of the Droid foundries on that planet during our first assault," Windu returned, "And our priority had been to rescue our allies. We knew that we'd face resistance, but the exact amount of hardware that they stored there came as quite a surprise. At least we still managed to defeat them, prescience on Master Yoda's behalf telling him to come well equipped."
"A mere setback for them, though, wasn't it?" Palpatine continued, seeming to be subtly placing blame on the Jedi for this, "They've bounced back from what seemed to us to have been a colossal blow."
Windu eyed him hard for a moment, before the Supreme Chancellor went on with the talks, addressing all assembled, which included several Senators and a few Jedi, "The Separatists must be stopped. We cannot allow them to conquer more planets. We need to demonstrate to the Republic the worth of this Army we have given them. The Separatists must be engaged, and their leader, Count Dooku, arrested."
"Then you plan to deploy a fleet immediately to Sullust?" Bail queried with a concerned edge to his voice, his arms folded tightly over his chest.
"You suggest that we don't?" Palpatine returned, registering the unease in the tone of the Senator of Alderaan.
"I believe that we should try talks first," Bail replied certainly.
There was a murmur amongst the back row of Senators and Jedi in the office. Palpatine leant forward, his elbows perched upon his desk, as he concentrated his gaze on the pacifistic Antilles, "We're at war, Senator," he stated bluntly, "Time for talking is over."
"We must at least try!" Bail continued, his arms unfolding as he gesticulated indomitably with them, "We may yet stop this war before it even truly starts!"
Bail's eyes traversed the Chancellor's chamber as unconvinced whispers once again rose from inconspicuous mouths. He sighed, adding, "And besides, there's something amiss. There are a million other more worthwhile things for Count Dooku to be doing besides taking Sullust, a minor conquest for his forces – going to fully claim Naboo for a start. I don't understand his logic…it could be a trap."
Mace nodded; "Plus," he said, raising his voice again, "Reports confirm that the Trade Federation is not present with the other Confederate forces."
Antilles mused over this point, "Strange," he remarked, "Something is wrong. They have safety in numbers – they know this. Why would they split up?"
"We can't afford to wait to find out exactly what's amiss, though, can we?" Palpatine interposed once more, "Sullust must be contained, as a symbolic gesture if nothing else – how will our great Army look if we lose a planet like that so promptly in the war? We must give our people confidence in the Army, and therefore, in the Republic; they must be convinced to remain loyal to us, and not to split and join the Count's movement."
"I agree," Mas Amedda, flanking Palpatine from behind nodded, his intimidating blue eyes converging upon Bail, "The majority of the Republic will start to convert if we do not prove our worth. The Separatists must be stopped."
"Then let us try both suggestions in tandem," Bail insisted, his voice becoming suddenly more biting and forceful, his eyes filling with an elusive maelstrom, "Let us dispatch two low-profile ambassadors ahead of the fleet you wish to send. Let them attempt negotiation with the Separatists, and, if these should come to no avail, or if they are caught in a trap, we can have the fleet follow in twenty-four hours to begin a more vigorous offensive."
A few people thought this over, an uneasy silence hovering like a stale mist in the air. Palpatine looked at Antilles, the cogs turning and ticking in his mind as he tapped his fingers together in contemplation; "As long as we don't have a replay of the scenario back at Naboo ten years ago, when two of our ambassadors got into particular bother… If the Separatists are as underhanded as the Federation, which, must I remind you, now serves as part of it, then we may be sending our 'ambassadors' straight to their deaths. I do not wish for that to happen."
"Then let me send Master Kenobi," Mace suggested, stepping to Bail's side and offering him moral support, "He was one of those ambassadors of the Nubian crisis, of which you now speak. I'm sure his experience will help him to avoid such happening again."
Palpatine exhaled deeply, before giving his head a slight nod and saying, "Fine, then. Though I will suggest that you accompany him, Master Jedi. Better a pair of Knights go to sort out this dilemma than a Padawan and his or her Master."
"Excellent," Bail concurred, turning to Mace and giving him a forthcoming smile, "I think this sounds like a plan."
Windu gave Palpatine another long stare, before steadily nodding, and saying, "Yes…let's do it."
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Obi-Wan smiled gently at the infants in the Temple crèche. He didn't come here often – infact, he rarely came here – but sometimes, when he felt stressed or burdened, it relieved and relaxed him to watch the youngest members of the Jedi Order play and learn, filled with innocence, naivety and an ignorance he sometimes envied.
He smiled, watching a couple of two-year-old human children tumble over as they played with a large ball, both very young and having as of yet poor balance on their unsteady feet. It made his mind roll back and recall his time as a child in the Temple, when life seemed so great, and you thought being a Jedi was the greatest thing that you could ever be.
Most of the candidates before him were barely eighteen months old – but the younger the age that they came into the Temple, the better. Obi-Wan had no memory of the early years of his life other than that of the crèche. Apparently, he had been here, on Coruscant with the Jedi since he was born, a most strange fact considering that many children were not entered into the Order until they were a few months old, at least – it took that long to determine whether or not a child had any affinity to the Force. He could only gather that his parents had suffered some incredible misfortune and had been forced to give him up immediately after his birth, the Council already knowing of the Force abilities he possessed. Perhaps his parents were even dead, and he had been left an orphan.
Perhaps…
"Obi-Wan, it's wonderful to see you again!"
Kenobi turned, coming out of his gentle reverie, and set his eyes on one of the nursery assistants, Madam Della[2]; she was a Jedi Knight herself but, like Jocasta Nu in the Archives, had long worked in the crèche, preferring to focus her Jedi career on the younglings that entered into the Order rather than utilise her skills in combat or in other fields. She had worked in the crèche since Obi could remember, he himself having been looked after by her as a toddler. As a result, she was now getting on in years, but her enthusiasm for the Temple's youngest candidates never seemed to waver; Obi-Wan admired that kind of patience and dedication in people, something that it was becoming hard to find in the ravaged society of the day, even in the ranks of the Jedi.
"Greetings, Madam Della" he nodded, giving her a bow of courtesy in return.
She smiled at him fondly, "My, you make me feel old," she said, "A fully grown Knight now, complete with beard and all… Oh, I remember when you were but this big." She held her hand a little more than two feet from the ground, looking into Kenobi's eyes cordially. Obi just chuckled, shaking his head and blushing slightly at her comments.
She sighed, bringing her hand back to her side, and studied Kenobi's visage meticulously, "My, you look so much like your mother…" she mused inattentively, as though she were speaking her thoughts aloud.
Obi-Wan paused, his smile fading and his gaze concentrating hard upon his old guardian; "You knew my mother?" he asked her quietly, his throat seeming suddenly dry.
Slowly, Madam Della rose her hand to her mouth, shaking her head faintly in gesture, "Oh my," she gasped, "I shouldn't have said that…" She looked genuinely upset, as though she had committed a great wrong by revealing such to him, and Obi-Wan pitied her – everyone let their tongues slip once in a while – but this meant a lot to him, he who had never known even from which planet he had come, he who had absolutely no idea who his real parents were. Most Padawans and Knights had vague ideas of their ancestry, allowed to know the basic facts and taught to settle with that – to know any more was considered dangerous, for to get too attached to one's past could prove treacherous for any Jedi. The firmest bonds a Padawan ever made with anyone in the Order was that with their master. Kenobi's Master, Qui-Gon, had meant everything to him, seeing as he'd had no family to be able to think of, or even know about, but now it would seem to Obi-Wan that things had been kept from him, and his past wasn't as mysterious as he had formerly deliberated…
"You knew her, though?" Obi pushed on gently, trying not to seem too forceful, his mind boggling as to how Madam Della would have made her acquaintance.
Madam Della nodded a little, "Oh, Obi-Wan, I was never supposed to say a word, but…oh, you just looked so much like her then…so much like her… You see, I knew her so well, and…"
"It's okay," he nodded, giving her shoulder an affectionate and accommodating rub, "I'll tell no one. It wasn't your fault. It's just…well, I never knew who my parents even were. Didn't even know if anyone knew!"
She gave him another sympathetic smile in return, "You're curious – you have a right to be, and a right to know who your parents were, especially now – you've long been an adult, and are more than mature enough – but the Council has spoken, and they believe that they know best. Forgive me, Obi-Wan – I didn't mean to load any more burden onto your shoulders, especially not now, at this point in time, with the war and all."
"Really, it's no problem," he assured her, though he ached to know more; he looked about warily, checking that the coast was clear, "But – I know that I shouldn't ask you this…it'll only make things worse for me, I know – but, well…can you tell me if she's still alive? My mother?"
Della gave him another compassionate smile, treating Obi-Wan almost as a son, perhaps in debt to the woman she had known so well, who had given birth to him; "I'm afraid not, Obi-Wan," she whispered, "I'm sorry."
Kenobi looked down, this all seeming so weird, to finally hear something of his parents, things that he now knew the Council had chosen to keep from him; "And my father?" he added.
Madam Della now bit her lip gently, pausing a moment before replying in an even lower tone, "He lives still. But, please Obi-Wan, do not delve any further into the matter – the Council felt it best that you didn't know so I believe that it is best that you don't. I'm sure they have good reason for protecting you so."
Obi-Wan nodded once more, trying to take all of this in, "I don't look like my father, then?" he asked her, a weak smile pricking at the corners of his mouth, presuming that Madam Della had known him, too.
She chuckled, shaking her head; "You're your mother's image…though I believe I'd be right to say that you're more like him on the inside." She gave his arm a warm stroke, "Now ask me no more – I'll be rebuked if the Council hear that I have spoken." She bowed to him and returned to the children in the crèche, leaving Kenobi alone with his suddenly restless thoughts. But he didn't have time to mull over things for too long as Master Windu suddenly approached him:
"Obi-Wan!" the Jedi Master called as he came down the corridor, toward the crèche, "I knew I'd find you where I least expected!"
Kenobi bowed to Windu reverentially, "I commend your foresight, my Master," he smiled.
Windu nodded as he reached his Jedi comrade, and put an arm to his back, ushering him to walk along beside him, away from the nursery; "I need a word with you, my friend," he said, his tone becoming more solemn, "But first, how is Anakin doing? Still training hard?"
Kenobi sighed, the encumbrance that was his troubled Padawan coming back to his mind; "Yes," he assented dully, "I'm worried, Master…he won't let me help him, or even talk to him. He's locked me out completely! I don't know what to do – I'm the bad guy if I tell him to stop, and the bad guy if I let him be and ignore him!"
"Let him be," Windu advised, "He's still under a lot of pressure, with 'the Chosen One' to his name, and with him having gone through so much as of late… He'll calm down."
"But it's been a good sixteen days since the battle on Geonosis as it is! How much longer will I have to wait for him to 'calm down'?" Kenobi continued, waving his hands about passionately as they began to ascend a flight of steps, up toward the Temple's secondary training veranda, the largest next to the innovatively named primary training veranda.
"Well, he may do when you're not around."
"Not around?"
Mace nodded, "Yes. We're going to Sullust, Master Kenobi."
"Sullust?" Kenobi exclaimed, "Now? I can't go without Anakin!"
"You can, Master Kenobi – and you must. We are ordered to go together and, due to the true gravity of the mission and of the times, we're not to have Padawans accompany us. We go for swift, and I pray successful, negotiations with the Separatist forces."
Obi-Wan shook his head, halting in his tracks as they reached the top of the flight of stairs; a small group of Younglings were learning about balance in the far corner, trying to get all the way across a balancing beam without tipping and falling off. If the two conversing Jedi had bothered to pay attention, then they would have noticed how few of the infantile cadets were actually successful in this exercise.
"I can't leave Anakin whilst he's in this state," Kenobi insisted; there was a high-pitched cry in the background as a Youngling fell from the thin beam onto the crash mat, his friends giggling but then helping him back to his feet whilst the next aspirant prepared to take a turn. Jedi Master Adi Gallia, who was currently tutoring the group, smiled at them benevolently, most proud of the empathy and collaboration that the children were showing toward one another.
"You said yourself he's not paying you any heed," Windu reminded Obi-Wan, "Let him be alone for a while – he may then think twice about dismissing you."
Kenobi sighed again, nodding reluctantly – besides, an order was an order; "Okay, I understand, Master."
Mace nodded, patting Obi on the shoulder, "We'll leave tonight – meet me in the central hangar, " he said, "And I think it best that you don't inform Anakin of where we're going. Use a bit of reverse psychology – lock him out for a bit." He smiled warmly, his bright teeth shining, "May the Force be with you," he then said, bowing in a departing gesture to his friend, and taking his leave of him. Kenobi nodded, and steadily turned about, looking over to the group that Adi was training; yet another child fell from the beam, rolling down onto the crash mats with a mild thump. Kenobi chuckled, looking at Adi cheerily; she shook her head and shrugged in return, whilst the children went over to help the balance beam's latest victim…
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Anakin returned to he and his Master's chamber in the afternoon after another hard day of training, only to find his Master packing some supplies and loading his belt with food capsules. Ani frowned, watching Obi-Wan for a moment; when it became apparent that his mentor wasn't going to address him, he asked, "Where are you going, Master?"
Obi sighed, turning to Anakin after a sombre pause, "I'm…going away," he replied in a low and distracted tone.
Anakin blinked once, as though he didn't register what his Master was saying; he skulked into the room and slid down onto one of the low, circular seats in the centre of their apartment's main chamber, crossing his legs upon it and looking to Kenobi hard whilst he continued to fill his belt with provisions.
"Where?" Anakin pressed; he could tell already that his Master was not going to say much if he could help it.
Obi-Wan didn't reply, choosing to change the subject instead, something he always managed to do when he had something to hide or was uncomfortable with the matter; "I don't know how long I'll be gone, Anakin, but promise me that you'll behave. And don't keep training so hard – you could do with a few days rest. Go help out a little in the botanical gardens or take a relaxing swim in the pools, or something. Please, Ani, it won't hurt you…"
Anakin made the 'not another lecture' face, "Master, I'm not a child anymore. I'll do what I like."
"You're a Padawan, Anakin. You'll do as you're told," Obi-Wan rejoined sharply, turning to Anakin with a stern glare, placing his hands to his hips.
There was a tense pause as they eyed one another hard. Anakin refused to give way, so it was Kenobi who was forced to back out first; he turned away, heaving a hefty sigh and walking over to the far windows of the room.
"So, where are you going, Master?" Anakin continued, "You didn't answer me."
"Anakin, it's an important mission, and I'm forbidden to take you, so the location doesn't matter."
"Why can't I go?" he asked raucously, "Is it because I'm apparently 'wounded'?" He raised his metallic arm up before him, wriggling the finger pieces about in gesture, hurt that he was to be separated from his Master when an important mission was on the cards.
"No, Ani, it's more to do with your lack of field experience – no Padawans would be allowed to go," Kenobi assured him, turning back to face his boisterous Padawan with a firm stare, "Trust me."
"But Master –"
"No, Anakin, you are not coming! And you will behave whilst I'm gone. If you begin to misbehave again I'll have to start finding you a sitter to look after you, like I had to when you were younger."
"Ha ha!" Anakin sneered, in no mood to make or take any jests.
Obi smirked, trying to lighten the aura of the moment a little, "Chin up, Anakin," he grinned, "I may send you a postcard[3]."
TBC…
[1] imperial-palace.tripod.com/eclipse/
[2] Just a slight mention – I made up this character, but named her after a wonderful teacher I had in Reception class when I was 5 years old. She left the year I moved up into Year 1, so I never saw her again, but she was great, the perfect teacher for young children. Just a lil something for her, though I doubt she'd ever read this (God forbid!). And it's been 13 years now anyway since I last saw her! O_0 Whoah!
[3] No, I don't know if they have postcards in the SW universe, but I can't think of a decent substitute in this context – go with the flow! ^_^