Author's Notes: Oh yeah! I'm rolling quicker than I thought! Part 20 is done and dusted! ^_^ It's getting to the more interesting bits now… I'm just trying to remember to get everything in that I need to – you'd be amazed at the number of times I forget to include really important or vital events. I hope I haven't forgot anything yet – after having such a long break between writing chapters, one can forget what they've already written and stuff… Anyway, worthless ramble. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
PadawanMage: Wow – quick review! Thanks for your ever loyal and continuing support! I never intended to leave it as Padmé with Dooku, but it just happened for a while… And Anakin might save the day. Or he might make a mess of it all. You'll see.
Dark Poetic: I'm glad you're willing to wait – sometimes I just need a break, I think! ^_^ Thank you for coming back to support me again! I really appreciate it!
Kathy: I'm glad you're still reading my fic – thank you for your support, too!
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"ECLIPSE"
Part 20
The passageways were deserted as Anakin crept into the Separatist base on Sullust. Getting down below the planet's surface hadn't been a problem – an unwary freight cruiser had provided him both cover and passage with no trouble, and now all he had to do was find his way from the crystal mine, in which he had landed, in to the heart of the Separatist activity. And then to his Padmé.
In truth, Skywalker wasn't completely alone – he could hear the scuttle of other feet in the passage as well as his own, that of creatures he'd rather not see. He could feel them watching him with beady, curious eyes, rushing in and out of cracks and crevices in the rocky, cavernous walls. But he paid them no heed – he was on a mission, he knew exactly what to do, and nothing was going to get in his way. It'd only feel the painful consequences if it did…
In his research, he'd found that air ventilation shafts littered the tunnels of the Sullustan cities, invaluable for the well-being of the planet's populace, and they connected in some manner or another to every single chamber in the metropolis. To stop unwanted guests snooping around anywhere they pleased, large, metallic trellises covered up the entryways to every one of these portals, and were invulnerable to almost any weapon, being harboured from one of Sullust's finest and strongest metals.
Lightsabres, however, were not just any weapon…
Metal met metal as Anakin's right limb took up Jinn's sabre in its hold. He emerged from out of the mine and into a desolate landscape, an empty byway between city and colliery, and he immediately came across one of the airshafts. With a flick of his finger, the green blade came to life for the first in a long time, and was put to treacherous use, cutting through the metal of the lattice. It was slow work, the hot blade taking its time to melt the durable matter, but he got there eventually, and the ruined grille dropped out at his feet.
He gave another quick glance to the site behind him, and, seeing no one, plunged into the duct's dark depths and let the Force guide him through the labyrinth…
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"I had a feeling this would happen…" Mace sighed, prodding his plate of food, unsure exactly what kind of creature the meat supplements came from.
Obi-Wan nodded in return from across the table as they ate in their apartments, a shadow hovering over his mind, "It was inevitable…it's as though they all want to orchestrate this war."
"'All'? What, the Separatists?" Mace asked, looking up to his companion. He stabbed the meat with his fork, certain it had moved.
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed slightly, "No… just everyone." His eyes focused on the Jedi Master, "Everyone except us."
He watched Windu slaughtering his steak for a few moments, amused a little by his antics, though he himself was unable to touch is own platter – eating was the last thing on his mind. And it looked too much like hard work, if Mace's performance was anything to go by.
Finally, Windu dropped his fork and pushed his plate away, suddenly not feeling quite so hungry; "I know what you mean," he conceded with a sigh, "There's something almost neat about how all these things are happening." He twiddled his thumbs for as moment, "What else is bothering you? I'll report all this to the Republic, you know – you don't have to worry about dealing with them…"
"No, it's not that, though you're very welcome to make the report…it's Anakin."
"Again?"
"I know I sound paranoid, but I can't help feeling that I shouldn't have left him…"
"Obi-Wan, you're too hard on yourself – he'll be fine."
"No," Kenobi stated assertively, a sharp bite in his voice, "No, you're wrong, master. I'm sorry, but you're wrong…"
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"Don't play with your food!"
Boba flinched as Passel Argente slapped him across the hand. He threw the magistrate a glare, "It played with me first!" he protested, his plate filled with the same platter of meat that Windu had been subjected to.
Argente growled, "Nonsense, boy – your imagination is running away with you."
Young Fett pushed the plate away, "I'm not hungry."
"Then don't eat!"
"I won't!"
San groaned, wafting a hand at them both, "Oh, be quiet, you two… And eat your meal, Boba – you never know when it could be your last."
Boba heaved a huge sigh and folded his arms across his chest, opting to do nothing but stare out his plate of repulsive food; "I'd rather die on an empty stomach than eat that," he eventually protested, "At least Count Dooku fed father and me properly!"
"Enough!" San yelled, slapping his long, bony hand down onto the table, "Children should be seen and not heard, young man!"
"Then you don't know much about kids, sir," Boba returned with sarcasm beyond his years.
"And I hope never to learn any more! Go to your room!"
Fett nodded grumpily, "Yes, sir." He was happy enough to just be taking his leave of the two Separatist affiliates.
Argente shook his head once the boy had gone, "I bring him on-planet to get some proper gravity under his feet, and this is how he repays me…"
"Blasted child," San added, taking a drink from his mug, "But he's of little consequence – the battle will soon be started here, and the Count can get a move on with his own plans, then take the child back. I don't want him around much longer with that kind of impertinence…"
"I hope the battles do us a favour and take him from us, then," Argente returned ruthlessly, sharing a quiet snigger with Hill before they both returned to their meals.
"Yes," San added, "Impertinence won't save him then."
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Boba skulked along the rock-hewn hall of the provisional Separatist base, running his hand along the cool walls as he went. He wanted to get out of here, away from Argente and his toffee-nosed friend, Hill. He wanted to be with Count Dooku again. He didn't have any other allies, and the man at least treated him as something higher than the dirt on the soles of his feet.
In truth, he missed his father more than anything and he wanted to be with him. But he couldn't, and he never would be again. His father had always told him that he wouldn't always be there, and that he would have to carry on, head held high, when he wasn't. And Boba hoped to achieve that and do all that he could to honour his father's wishes.
There was a rattle in the passage. Boba froze, hands outstretched and ears alert.
"Who's there?" he called.
Silence. The young boy swallowed, holding his ground, thinking like a hunter. The prey was hiding.
He slowly straightened back up, "You don't have to hide from me. I'm unarmed."
The prey seemed to smile on him – to hear such from a child!
There was movement in the darkness, and an entity dropped from the ceiling, grabbing the boy, and holding him back to him, hand over his mouth…and a cold hand at that.
"Keep quiet," the entity hissed. Boba didn't struggle – never struggle in vain, his father taught him; it wasted energy and had no point. He remained still and calmly waited to see what the intruder would do.
Eventually, it seemed that the intruder felt it was safe to trust this child, and he removed his cold, metal hand from his lips, before turning the boy to face him. Their eyes met, both filled with intensity and obstinacy, and both completely fearless.
"Who are you?" Boba queried, unwavering.
Anakin smirked coldly back at him, "A Jedi," he replied.
Boba's gaze hardened, "Then you're not welcome here… And, besides, that's not who you are, that's what you are…"
Anakin grinned widely at the child, "Clever boy," he murmured, "So tell me, 'clever boy', where I might find the Separatist leader?"
Young Fett blinked steadily, "Why should I tell you? A Jedi killed my father. I don't want to help one of his friends."
"I'm not the Jedi who killed your father, though, am I?"
"No. But you're still a Jedi."
"I'm different to the others."
Boba regarded the tall, young Knight for a moment longer, "How?"
Anakin shot his metal arm out and grasped Boba's chin, "See that? A fake limb, and I'm the only living Jedi to have one. There's one difference for you. There are many more, but I haven't come here to waste my time talking to the likes of children."
"You're not that old yourself, I'll bet," Boba rejoined, "I bet you're still a child to someone…"
Anakin stared hard into Boba's eyes – he didn't know why, but he respected this kid. He had guts, loyalty and wit, and he liked him for it. Slowly, he released him, "Tell me," he asked, "Where can I find Count Dooku?"
Boba shook his head, "I don't know… but he's definitely not here."
Anakin's face dropped – a wasted journey was the last thing he needed, "What do you mean he's not here?" he growled, hauling the boy up by his collar and glaring into his face, pushing him against the wall.
"I tell you the truth!" Boba replied, legs kicking about in the air, "He's somewhere else! I wish I were with him! I hate it here with the others…"
"Why isn't he here?"
"I don't know!"
"Is Padmé with him?"
"The woman?"
"Yes!!!" Anakin shook the boy hard against the rock face in desperation, "Tell me!"
"I think so…he seems mightily attached to her."
Anakin dropped Boba, "Bastard…" he seethed.
Young Fett rubbed his backside before getting back onto his feet, "You came for the woman only?"
"Yes," Anakin replied, looking down at his feet, "I don't care for this stupid war anymore…I just want her back. I love her and I want her to be okay…I want her to be mine again."
Boba studied him once more, beginning to understand his motives, "I want my father back, but he's dead. I can never have him back."
Anakin sighed, looking into the darkness, "My mother is also dead. I miss her too…" His lip twitched in rage before he slung a punch into the wall. Boba watched the small fragments of rock drop to the ground in response. "And it's all because of this stupid war and the stupid Jedi, and –"
As Anakin slowly trailed off into silence, Boba nodded thoughtfully, before he pointed down the hall, "You see that door, second on the right?"
Anakin looked at Boba uncertainly, then followed his finger, "I see it," he replied.
"Take that passage, then the fourth door on your left, and you'll find the chambers of San Hill. He's been put in charge by Count Dooku. He'll know where he is."
Anakin looked back at the boy, "Why are you telling me this?"
Boba shrugged, "I think I understand you."
"That's it? You aren't loyal to Dooku?"
"I am. But if your cause is worthy, then I don't see why I shouldn't be of service. My father taught me to be honourable, and I will be. I'll be of aid to whoever offers me the best in return. I'll make my father proud."
Anakin laughed gently and put a hand on Boba's shoulder, "You have made a friend in me, master…?"
"Fett. Boba Fett."
"Anakin Skywalker."
They nodded to one another, a mutual respect between them.
"Don't look to see your temporary leader again if he chooses to be less helpful than you when I reach him," Anakin added, looking up to the shaft opening from which he had dropped, "I'm in no mood for games any more."
"It'll be a blessing never to see him again, believe me…" Boba returned grimly.
"I'll wait till nightfall." He gave a final nod to the young bounty hunter, "Until next time, Boba."
"And you, sir," Fett returned. He watched the Jedi disappear up the shaft before he then continued on his way to his room, a cold smile on his youthful countenance.
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"Negotiations have been boycotted, sir…your move on Naboo may begin soon," Hill reported to Dooku via hologram.
Dooku smirked, hands on his hips, "Excellent news, friend. Adieu."
He watched Hill bow dutifully to him before the banker's skinny image faded, and he then turned his attention to Gunray by his side, "My, my…how fast things are now going…" he mused.
"Indeed, Count," Nute nodded, rubbing his hands together greedily, "Hill has enough artillery at hand, does he not?"
"Of course. Whenever the Republic throws their army against him, he can retaliate. The Geonosians have more than made up for the onslaught on their home world with the arsenal that they have presented us this time. Hill only has to make the signal, and our fleets will arrive to aid him. They are waiting close by."
Turning about, Dooku glanced slowly around the deck of the Federation flagship, and looked out to the planet Umgul through the viewscreen ahead. Everything was peaceful here, and he appreciated that whilst he bided his time, waiting for San to do his work. "Very soon, we can move on to our next destination," he added, voice velvety soft, "And if they refuse to join what they have technically already been made part of, we can have your blockade set up within the hour. We are but parsecs away from the planet." His gaze suddenly returned to Nute, "And if it comes to a blockade, it won't fail this time, Viceroy."
Gunray was almost jumping with excitement, "How glorious that will be! I almost hope for their refusal!"
"Don't jump the gap before you've seen how wide it is, friend. It'll do you no good," Serenn returned in a slightly more harsh tone. Gunray quickly acknowledged this, swallowing a large lump down his throat, and watched with a little relief as the Count stepped away.
"Well…I'd better report to our 'princess', haven't I?" Dooku lightly continued, putting his hands to his belt and looking to Umgul once again.
Gunray chuckled, aiming for a recovery, "Rather you than me, Count. There's no pleasing that girl."
He smirked wryly, back remaining turned to the Neimoidian, "Oh, I'm sure it's not impossible…"
Nute raised a scaly eyebrow, "If you say so, Count. If you say so."
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The line formed a smooth curve and joined another black line, and finally formed the outline of a gualara, one of Naboo's native equine beasts. It had a pair of hooked horns, a long, drawn out face, and four thin, elegant legs – it looked very similar, infact, to the horse-like creatures kept in fields all over Serenno, like the ones penned not far from Dooku's manor. The illustrated beast had a real energy and regal aura about it, one that only a person long acquainted with these animals, and also only a person with a talent for illustration, could have given it.
Padmé sighed, putting down her pen, and stared at the quadruped she'd absentmindedly drawn on a piece of paper. It was rare enough to find paper and pen off cultural worlds like Naboo, so she certainly wasn't going to waste the opportunity of having such materials at her disposal, but she couldn't focus her mind on anything in particular. The gualara – beasts she'd ridden many a time back home – just happened to be the first thing to pop into her head, and she could draw them effortlessly. She had done so since she was small.
Even though her doodle was a good one, it completely failed to cheer her spirits…
"Now that's a pretty thing."
She jumped, though her body was tired of jumping, before she gradually turned a wearisome eye onto Serenn as he glanced over her shoulder.
"Almost perfect, I would say…" he went on, "Perhaps the hocks could be better formed, but otherwise, quite flawless. You are a woman of many talents, my dear."
She stared him out as he turned his eyes from the paper onto her, "I'm sorry, you do not appreciate criticism?"
"I don't appreciate the critic."
He smirked, as he usually did, "What quick wit you have "he mused, taking a seat next to her, "But, have no fear, I won't be here to irritate you long. We are to move on very soon – San has the Republic almost exactly where he wants them, which'll keep them off our backs for the time being whilst we finalise the secession of Naboo. Would you object to departing in the next twelve hours for the planet?"
She sighed, shaking her head gently, "No," she said, rubbing her arms as though a draft was blowing through her chamber.
He sat back a little, carefully observing her, "You aren't unwell?" he asked, picking up on her every movement.
She turned on him sharply, "No. Just uncomfortable."
His brow rose a little, before he nodded and returned to his feet, "Until later, then, my lady," he said genteelly, before, with a sweep of his cloak, he had gone.
TBC…