Author's Notes: I am so sorry about this wait, everyone! I've been a bit blue as of late and have also recently got a p/t job, as well, so haven't written any Star Wars fanfic for weeks! I'll try and get a move on, now – I just need to 'book my ideas up', or something like that. ^_^ Feel free to send me nagging emails sometimes – they do help, you know! This chapter isn't long, but it'll get the ball rolling again for a while. There's much more to come yet!
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Part 19
Jocasta Nu made no comment, merely raised an eyebrow, as she again set her eyes upon Anakin, hard at work in her Archives. Things in the Galaxy were indeed turning themselves upside-down if Skywalker was beginning to take an interest in his education, she thought, before she forced herself to dismiss it as possible maturity in the Padawan. But she found it hard to even convince herself of that. Shaking her head, she swiftly trotted off to do some cataloguing – even during war, her work was never done.
Anakin's eyes wound furiously across the screen of the terminal before him: 'Sullust', it read. Fortunately, Sullust was a fairly ordinary planet, and was not, like Count Dooku, amongst the restricted sections of the Archive network. He was free to peruse all of the files on Sullust to his every whim and desire.
He scrolled down the screen, reading and mesmerising the co-ordinates of the planet and taking in all the information from the file that he could possibly saturate his mind with. No one was going to stop him this time – he was going to the Separatists and he was going to find Padmé. He didn't care about the etiquette of war (if there was such a thing), or for the incredulous amount of talking enemies seemed to do before they actually did anything constructive – it was time for someone to actually do something. His training would have to wait. Padmé was more important.
He just prayed that his efforts would not be wasted…
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Obi-wan carefully deactivated his craft's engines before leaping out of the cockpit, and setting his feet down onto the landing platform, below the surface of Sullust. He looked up as the hatchway in the far above cavernous ceiling closed, shutting out the volcanic and erratic atmosphere of the planet, and leaving him stood in the dim, musty darkness beneath. It was but a few moments before he heard footsteps behind him; he turned to see Mace stepping along a rocky pathway toward him, having come through a tunnel from his own landing area.
"Safe landing?" he asked, his bright smile flashing.
Kenobi nodded lackadaisically, "Yeah, no problems."
Windu caught the less than enthusiastic edge to his friend's tone; "What's wrong, Obi-Wan?" he asked, "If it's to do with your Padawan, try and put it to the back of your mind. We have work to do. I don't want to do this that much, either, but –"
"No, it's not that," Obi shook his head, before sighing and adding, "It doesn't matter. Let's get this over with."
Windu had that knowing look in his eye – when someone said something didn't matter, it usually did, but he didn't have time to argue. Besides, he wouldn't have gotten anywhere even if he tried – Kenobi was remarkably obstinate when he wanted to be.
The two turned and headed for the exit together where a couple of Sullustans waited to greet them.
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The halls of the Jedi Temple rang with the silence of the eve. And of the scuttling of feet.
Anakin paused by a pillar to stare down one of the Temple's many cavernous hallways – it was empty. Some parts of the Temple never slept, but Jedi activity, unlike the more seedy parts of Coruscant, did wind down for the hours of night. He took a breath, hauling his hastily assembled pack of belongings over his shoulder, before rushing down the corridor at high speed, his eyes focused, his mind still brimming over the edge with too many a thing.
As he skidded to a tidy halt at the end of the passage, he paused, listening once more for the presence of other Jedi. He could hear nothing, but, more importantly, he could sense nothing. That was good sign. By his side, a lightsabre hung, clinking against the food capsules on his belt. He tapped it for reassurance with his left hand – he'd had no choice but to take it from its prime position, mounted on the wall, in he and Obi-Wan's Jedi chambers. He hadn't the time to hang around to make another of his own. Here was the lightsabre that had cleaved a Sith Lord in two. Here was the lightsabre of a true Jedi Master. Here was the weapon of Qui-Gon Jinn.
On Anakin went, rushing down another hallway, the synthetic light of nocturnal Coruscant shining over him as he passed frequently occurring windows. He rushed down a few flights of stairs, passed through a couple more hallways, and arrived in the docking bays, which were as dormant as the rest of the temple; all of the various space craft held there were sleeping peacefully.
He glanced over the many varied vehicles, searching for his perfect partner to accompany him on his adventure. The elephantine Republic Cruisers loomed over the smaller, lightweight craft, and it was the lightweight ships that Anakin was looking for. He paced across the giant chamber toward a row of Jedi Starfighters, small and dagger-like in appearance and coated in flaking crimson paintwork. The faded insignia of the Republic was printed on their sides.
Reaching out, he wrenched a tarpaulin off one of them and accessed the cockpit effortlessly, the inbuilt R2 unit on its hull happily complying with the young Jedi's wishes. He placed his small bag of belongings into the cockpit, before he rushed over to the hangar's control room to get a door open, and his ship out. Hijacking the Temple's systems was child's play for him…and, besides, it was the least of his worries.
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San Hill stared at the two Jedi over the small bridge of his steepled fingers; "You've come to 'negotiate'…?" he murmured.
Obi's eyes narrowed on the lean Banking Clan leader, who was the current head-honcho of the Separatists on Sullust; there was no sign of Count Dooku anywhere, which was most uncomforting; "Yes," he nodded steadily, the sneer in Hill's aura irritating him already.
San shifted back in his seat – he seemed to have set up a fair-to-decent office down on the surface of Sullust, and had every ounce of confidence that negotiations weren't going to take place.
"There's no need for any war," Windu insisted, leaning forward in his seat by Kenobi's side, "You know this – we all do."
"I fail to see anything other than necessity for this conflict," Hill retorted, examining his pallid fingernails in an arrogant gesture, "You've wasted both my time and your Republic's time by coming here."
"It has not been wasted – there is still time!" Obi-Wan uttered sternly, "There's still hope!"
San's thin lip curled up in further conceit, " 'Hope'?" he scoffed, before he deigned to lean toward the pair of Jedi and snarled, "There is always 'hope', but that's all it ever is. Hope is a mere denial of reality – surely you, of all people, know this."
Kenobi felt his lip tremble – his fingers itched to reach out and clamp San's thin neck in their grasp, but he strove to keep this anger down. He could ill afford to lose his temper – he was sure it'd set a fine example to Anakin once he found out.
"I'm sure your Count Dooku once 'hoped'," San continued, "But he was one of the few of your kind who actually saw beyond hope and looked to reason and reality for answers and for, furthermore, results. He was not blinded by your Order's wishful thinking… look where it has gotten you! No where."
"And speaking of our 'old friend'," Windu interposed, "Where is he?"
Hill chuckled, "Well, the Count's obviously not here, now…"
"I can see that," Windu smirked coldly, "That's why I asked."
San favoured Windu with an equally cold grin, "Now that would be telling… He does have other matters to attend to, apart from chatting over idle propositions from equally idle Jedi."
Kenobi shot up from his seat, his irritation burning under his skin.
San eyed him up, "And reckless Jedi too, it would seem…" he added.
"We haven't come here to be insulted," Mace said, putting his hand to Kenobi's arm and urging him to retake his seat.
"And I'd hoped I'd not given up my time for what to me seems to be valueless prattle!" Hill rejoined.
"You've not even let us begin!"
"I'm not interested! Whatever terms you can offer us, they won't be enough! We can only achieve our aims through force, otherwise we would have accomplished them by now!"
"You're being stubborn…"
"I'm being honest, sir!"
There was a brief stalemate in which Hill and Windu remained locked in each other's fiery gazes. Obi-Wan just wanted to go home.
"What would you have us do then, Mr. Hill?" Kenobi asked quietly, rubbing his temples with his fingers, "In what way can we satisfy you and your movement?"
Windu backed off a little and San let his gaze take in Obi-Wan again. He leant toward the younger of the two Jedi, and gave him a stony glare, "I would have you leave this planet and let it freely make its choice of whether or not to join the Separatist movement, a choice which, I must add, is looking likely to be taken in our favour. Go home, master Jedi, back to your Republic – the time for talking is long since past. We're at war now." He returned to some paper work on his desk. "Good day to you sir."
Kenobi let his eyes make the rude remark he so wanted to utter, and kept his lips tightly sealed.
"This decision will have dire consequences for you," Mace decided to reveal, "Consequences we'd rather not happened, and which will be avoided if you cooperate."
"I will not hear blackmail from Jedi," San snapped, "The Republic is truly rotting if things have come to this."
"I didn't mean it like that!" Mace returned.
"You can say it whatever way you like, but I can't change how I hear it –get out!"
The two Jedi sighed together; Bail's plan had failed miserably. It looked like military force would be taking precedence once more as far as decision-making went.
Meanwhile, however, as the two Jedi left the Separatist base in sombre and bad moods, and were escorted to some temporary residence for the night by the accommodating Sullustans, another hyperspace ring joined theirs in orbit of Sullust. The misfortune Mace spoke of looked set to come to San Hill quite prematurely…
TBC…