2
"Master, I feel I am ready for the trials! Please!" Anakin yelled.
"Anakin, NO! You are still not ready!" Obi-Wan yelled back, feeling like he was scolding a two year old. .
"But Master Windu…" Anakin trailed off. He balled up his fists, clenching then letting them go.
"My young apprentice," Obi-Wan used the term only when he got truly angry, "just because you are good with a lightsaber does not mean you are ready for the trials! The Council sees you as not ready yet! You must realize that!"
"But I AM! Most of the other Padawans my age have taken the trials and have become Knights!"
"That may be true, but you must remember they started their lives here in the Order! Because of the fact that you came here late sets you back – whether you like it or not!"
Anakin took a deep breath, shaking with anger. He knew he had arrived later than the rest of the Jedi his age. In fact, at almost every turn he was reminded that he was an outcast, an anomaly that should not have been let into the Order because he was so old.
Obi-Wan looked at him, took a breath and spoke again, this time a little more quietly. "Anakin, you still have much to learn. You are headstrong, and need to learn to control your anger. At times you let it get the best of you, and you lose control." He didn't add the 'and so do I' he was thinking.
"Only because you do…" Anakin grumbled. He crossed his arms and turned to gaze out the window. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to make another rebuke.
"Perhaps anger control both of you should learn."
Yoda stepped in the room. Neither of the other Jedi sensed his presence as he approached, they were too focused on their fight. Even now it unnerved Obi-Wan the way Yoda showed up at the most opportune – or inopportune – times. He and Anakin faced the small green Jedi Master.
"Right is young Skywalker. Headstrong still are you, Obi-Wan. But wrong is Anakin, also. Ready for the trials he is not."
Anakin scowled. Yoda shifted his gaze to him and blinked, continuing:
"Strained are both of you. A break you need, and so a new mission you both will get. To the Council chamber."
Yoda turned and walked out, leaning on his gimer stick. Obi-Wan and Anakin followed him up through the winding Temple to the top tower where the Council chamber rested. Inside the room, the Council was not in session. Instead, only Mace Windu and Supreme Chancellor Palpatine were present.
"Greetings, Master Yoda and Master Kenobi! And, hello, Anakin," Palpatine said.
Acknowledging the Chancellor with a nervous nod, Anakin walked hesitantly behind his Master. When no one made a move to sit down, he remained standing partly behind Obi-Wan. He shifted his weight anxiously; the Chancellor always put him on edge.
"I come to you now because many of the systems have declared their allegiance – either to the Republic or to the Federalist movement. The Hutts, though, have not contacted us or the Separatists. I wish to send someone to Nal Hutta to learn what the Hutts intend," Palpatine explained briefly.
Yoda spoke up, saying, "Good a break is, for a master and his apprentice. Stay here, study with me, shall Anakin. Journey to Nal Hutta will Masters Windu and Kenobi."
Anakin shifted his weight again. Frankly, Yoda made him nervous, too. What he wanted to do was go with Obi-Wan and help the Republic as best he could.
But maybe Master Yoda is right…Obi-Wan and I have been at each other's throats for the past day or so. Perhaps a break will do some good.
Just then, Anakin swore he felt someone watching. Eyes were studying him, but he felt something else tingling through the Force. Reaching out with his senses, he couldn't find the source. He stopped searching, and looked at the other people in the room. When Anakin looked at Palpatine, he met his eyes. The Chancellor had been watching him, studying him, and now averted his gaze back to the other Jedi.
"If we get the alliance of the Hutts, we get access to their weapons, their smuggling techniques…" Palpatine said, trailing off as he thought about all the political potential. He let the sentence hang for a second then brought himself back to the moment.
"Not only that, but then we also get Nal Hutta and all the others systems controlled by the Hutts aligned with us. That's a great deal of Outer Rim territory, where most of the Separatist systems are."
"The Hutts are also notorious for not sticking to their alliances. Entering into an agreement with them is dangerous," cautioned Mace. "They do what is best for Hutts, and only that after what is best for their clan. If going against the Republic should ever show to be more profitable for them they will do it."
"Then perhaps if we cannot get the alliance of all the Hutts, we can obtain help from at least one clan," Obi-Wan suggested.
Palpatine nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps."
"Yes, go you and Mace will. Find their intentions; possibly try for an alliance. Two and a half days the voyage will take, immediately you must leave."
Two and a half days later, Mace and Obi-Wan stared at the growing sphere of Nal Hutta. They landed was easily; obtaining permission from Hutt security by claiming to be investigating whether to post an extension of their business on Nal Hutta.
The room he and Mace acquired left much to be desired. The place had a feeling of grime to it, and the beds were old and lumpy. In the refresher unit a purple mold-looking something grew along all the caulking. Obi-Wan didn't want to think about the other odd life-forms that might be using the room as home. After settling in as best they could, the two Jedi wandered out into the streets.
In their standard brown cloaks, they fit in well with the assortment of other sentients going about their business. First, they purchased an info holocard, hoping to learn some hint of what the Hutts were up to. To their dismay, Aruk the Hutt and his rival Jiliac were vying for control of the Hutts with complete disregard for other galactic politics. Not only that, but they were both residing on the moon Nar Shadaa.
"Curse it! I suppose we should make our way to the Smuggler's Moon tomorrow, since we already paid for the room here…" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "And it was a waste, at that!"
"That disgusting piece of Hutt spit? You call that a room? More like a conglomeration of insidiously poisonous life-forms," Mace added with one of his rare laughs.
"Well, let's wander a bit…maybe we'll learn something of value on the streets."
The Jedi continued to explore, passing shops of all kinds: antiques, weapons, clothing, spice dealers, pet shops, and anything else imaginable. One item on display in a window they passed made both of them stop. Perched on a deep burgundy velvet pillow, a lightsaber was enclosed in a glass case. Both Mace and Obi-Wan stopped in their tracks. Wandering into the store, they saw other rarities were for sale. A withered and graying Bothan sat patiently behind his desk.
"Excuse me, I'm interested in that lightsaber you have on display in the window," Obi-Wan said, keeping his arms crossed so that his robes hid his own weapon.
"Ah...rare item it is! Private collectors or are you also in the business…?" the Bothan replied, making his way feebly over to the window.
Carefully he pressed his forefinger to a little pad on the side of the glass case and it opened. With even more caution he reached in and pulled the weapon out. Gently he passed it to Obi-Wan.
"Yes, you could say that," Mace replied, letting the Bothan decide for himself whether they were in the trade or not.
"Ah…I've had this beauty for quite some time now. They are rather hard to come by; hard to kill a Jedi is…"
Mace and Obi-Wan raised their eyebrows at each other. Obi-Wan held the lightsaber tentatively, he was nervous about igniting it. Although he didn't recognize the handle, he feared that when it turned on he would recognize the blade.
The myth that Jedi were invincible was quickly being eroded, all too often it was becoming the case that a Jedi did not return from an assignment. It was a fact of live brought on by the wars.
Turn it on, Mace urged him through the Force.
Without further hesitation Obi-Wan ignited the saber. A bright, distinctive red blade came from the hilt. Mace looked at Obi-Wan again, then back at the lightsaber. Obi-Wan gave it a couple small waves through the air, trying to act like he was unaccustomed to handling one.
"How much do you want for it?" Mace asked immediately.
"Well…it has seen battle…my asking price is… Three thousand Ditaries, if you have them…" the Bothan sneered.
"One thousand. It's been sliced," Obi-Wan cut in sharply. He motioned to the end of the handle. A definite scar ran across the metal.
"Are you mad? Are you trying to rob me? Twenty-five hundred!" the Bothan shrieked.
"Fifteen hundred."
"Twenty-one hundred."
"Sixteen hundred."
"Nineteen hundred."
"Seventeen hundred."
"Eighteen hundred and fifty. And that's final."
A second of silence passed as the two Jedi looked at each other again.
"We'll take it," Mace said decisively.
"And how will you be paying for this purchase?" The Bothan moved back over to his desk, this time with a little more enthusiasm than he had previously shown.
"Credit it to my account. Jev Dolsan," Obi-Wan instructed. The fake account had been set up on the way to Nal Hutta; it was linked directly back to the Temple, allowing him and Mace the money they would need.
"Ah…let me put it in…" The Bothan's fingers moved deftly over the keyboard. He punched in all the info then leaned back as he waited for it to clear.
"By the way, do you happen to recall who brought this in?" Obi-Wan asked with a tone of innocence.
"I believe it was a Neimoidian…rather stupid fellow. Didn't seem to quite understand what he had," the Bothan said dismissively. "You're all set, Mr. Dolsan! Thank you for your business!"
Outside the store, Mace turned to Obi-Wan. He said, "Why were you so insistent on that one? Other than it's not one of ours, which I've seen at least…"
It was customary for Jedi to buy lightsabers when they came across them in their travels and missions. The Order liked to keep track of them; they were extremely dangerous in untrained hands. A black market sprang up for them hundreds of years ago, and the fact that the Jedi tried to always buy them back added to the perception Jedi were elitist.
Mace knew by the color it was no ordinary Jedi lightsaber.
It was Sith.
Obi-Wan held it in his hand for a second, examining it. He glanced back at Mace.
"First, we both know from the color that it's Sith. Second, I've encountered this one before. See the scar on the base of the handle?"
Obi-Wan held out the charred end of the saber so that Mace could see what he was talking about.
"I did that. This used to belong to the Sith who killed Master Qui-Gon. It was a double-ended blade until I managed to cut it in half. The other half must have gone down the melting pit with him, and after the battle some Neimoidian idiot crony found it and decided to make a few credits off it… How bout some food?"
Completely off subject, Obi-Wan pointed to what would have resembled a diner on any other respectable planet. It looked not half bad, at least not as far as Nal Hutta standards went. Not to mention, nothing could get as bad as the room they had rented.
As he and Mace entered the establishment, the term restaurant could be used only in the loosest of senses, he felt a twinge of something at the Force. Something sad… Immediately he tucked the newly purchased lightsaber away into his robes, and made sure his own was out of sight.
Caution was always best.
Padmé was almost about to have a full-blown panic attack. For half a day she had been on Nal Hutta and no transport to Coruscant was to be found. Part of her problem was the inflation. Republic credits were almost worthless out here. Even if she were to find a ship to take her to the capitol, she wouldn't have been able to afford it. Her best option for now was to stay here and try to make a living to save up money to get offworld.
So much for getting help for Naboo…
And thus she sat alone in a grungy diner with a cup of stimcaf before her. The stuff smelled so rancid she thought it ought to be marketed as a toxin instead. When she first skimmed the menu, a plate of nerf ribs sounded absolutely wonderful. A look at the price quickly put an end to that idea.
With the simcaf cooling in front of her, she watched other patrons, when the door opened and two men entered. One was bald, dark skinned, and wearing a darker brown cloak than the other. The other man was light skinned, still young looking, and had light brown hair. In his hand, Padmé swore she saw a lightsaber hilt. She wondered if perhaps it was the same one she saw in a shop window a little ways back.
Padmé watched them a little bit more, as they sat down and ordered their meals. They looked like average travelers, on their way to somewhere, doing something. Perhaps they were entrepreneurs, maybe spies. Maybe gamblers or smugglers.
Jedi.
Her intuition told her they were Jedi. A million possibilities exploded in her mind, and she thought about how best to make their paths cross.
Later that afternoon, nearing almost dark, the two Jedi stepped out of a cantina. Inside, they had obtained a tip from the manager and were on their way to making an arranged meeting with Jiliac the Hutt. Right now their best chances stood with trying to win over one clan. The Hutt greed would drive Jiliac to take the bargain, giving him more money than his rival Aruk. While the Jedi weren't great at manipulating, they hoped they could play this one well.
For the remainder of the day, they wandered around a bit more, all in an attempt to delay returning to the disgusting room. Obi-Wan even mentioned the idea of going back to the ship to sleep; it had two cabins in it. Mace agreed that would be preferable over their room.
Suddenly, Obi-Wan had to dart to one side to avoid running full front into another person. The woman walked with her head down, watching the ground. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun at the bottom of her head. Obi-Wan realized it was a woman he noticed sitting at the back of the restaurant where he and Mace ate dinner.
Just as he passed her, she looked up at him. It seemed as if she were going to say something and decided against it, for she put her head back down and continued on her way. Obi-Wan turned to watch her go, and stopped in his steps. Something tugged at him.
She's familiar…she's been in trouble before. She's stuck and she doesn't know what to do…Trouble…
"Obi-Wan? What is it?" Mace was tugging at his shoulder, bringing him out of his reverie.
"I…I don't know. I had a message of sorts…through the Force…" Obi-Wan trailed off. Mace looked steadily at him. Obi-Wan continued. "I can't explain it. I just got this image of great sorrow, great loss. She's fleeing something, but it's trying to catch up to her."
"Our mission is not with her, Obi-Wan. You know this. We must stick to making an alliance with the Hutts, if one is possible," Mace chastised him lightly.
"HELP!" A bloodcurdling scream cried out from around the street corner. "HELP! PLEASE!"
"Amidala!" Obi-Wan exclaimed in sudden insight and bolted out of Mace's grasp.
Turning the corner, he could see a fat, dirty human male trying to drag Padmé down the alleyway.
"STOP!"
"You mind your own business, now," the man said.
"Help! Please!" Padmé looked at him pleadingly.
"Shut up, you!" The man pointed his blaster at her back. He looked back at Obi-Wan. "Now, you just turn around now, and act like you never saw nuthin'."
"Please, let her go." Obi-Wan put his hand out in a stop motion.
The man replied by shooting a red blaster bolt at him, and Padmé cried out. A humming blue blade deflected the bolt, thrumming as Obi-Wan waved it to the side. The man stared at him, too shocked to react.
"Now will you let her go?" Obi-Wan subtly motioned with his free hand.
"I'll let her go." Calmly the man dropped his blaster to his side, and let Padmé out of his grip.
"You will go home and rethink your life."
"I will go home and rethink my life." The man wandered off, muttering the phrase over and over.
"I think you over did it a little bit there," Mace said, coming up behind Obi-Wan and giving the confused man a quizzical look. He eyed Padmé, who still stood where the man had let her go. She was shaking, and appeared ready to collapse.
Concerned, Obi-Wan stepped over to her.
"I can't believe it…I can't believe it…" she whispered, her wide eyes on him. "I…"
The words got lost as a sob came out from her throat instead. Padmé's hands flew to her eyes, trying to stop the tears that flowed from them.
Not knowing what else to do, Obi-Wan knelt down next to her and held her. He tapped into the Force, trying to calm her down with its serenity. After a minute or two, he felt her crying ease. She was no longer sobbing, and the tears weren't running so rampantly down her face. Obi-Wan looked at her.
"Are you okay?" he asked tenderly.
"Yes, thank you…I can't thank you enough," Padmé said quietly. She looked closer at him. A distant look came over her face, then her eyebrows came together.
"Master Jedi? Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan Kenobi?"
"What brings you to this part of the galaxy, My Lady? Why aren't you back on Naboo with your people?"
"The Separatists…" she let it hang. Obi-Wan knew enough not to push her. He was thinking and already reaching some conclusions.
"Master Windu!" he called over to Mace. Mace walked over to him. Obi-Wan continued, "Master Windu, this is Queen Amidala of Naboo."
"Please, call me Padmé," she interjected, no longer crying. She shook hands with Mace.
Mace studied Padmé. "I think it best we all get back to the ship immediately. You are most welcome to stay with us."
Padmé nodded in thanks.
Quickly Mace scanned the area once more for any possible lingering threats. Something made him feel ill at ease. Part of him wanted to leave Padmé, through some inexplicable way; he knew that she would change everything, all in this moment. But that did not matter now. The Jedi were involved with her – and she with them.