NINE:
Padmé spent the next hour or so in a small alcove of the transport, losing herself in scouring the reports that Odo supplied. It looked as if the Hutt had given her just about everything he had, probably in the hopes of getting on the good side of who he thought was her 'boss'… and she had no idea who that was supposed to be.
"Any clue where we should go yet?" asked Anakin as he came into the alcove and seated himself on the bench opposite her holo reports.
She felt her forehead crease as she pulled her eyes away from the holos.
"No," she said, glancing at Anakin. "Not yet, but there's got to be something in here. This is a lot bigger than we thought it would be."
Anakin glanced at the holos, then leaned forward.
"We should chart these on a map," he said.
"I've been doing that, actually," she said, clicking the touchpad and bringing up a map of the galaxy.
Anakin's eyebrows raised and he appeared somewhat impressed.
"Good," he said, studying the map. "You know… we should find out where each of the five Hutt syndicates are headquartered, then use that to trace the funneling of supplies. Then we could-,"
"Use that to pinpoint where their orders are coming from!" finished Padmé.
"Exactly!" said Anakin, and he shared a rare smile with her.
"But how do we find out where the Hutts are?" she asked.
"I think I can help with that," said Obi-Wan from the far wall. He must have been lurking, which was an odd choice for him, and it surprised them both. "If you remember I do… ah… know a guy. Deep on Coruscant."
"You did mention something about that," said Padmé, peering at him.
"One does what one must in order to seek one's preferred outcomes," said Obi-Wan, hands spread.
"Right," said Anakin, glancing at Padmé, who met his glance and then shrugged a little.
"Are you suggesting we go see this… guy?" inquired Padmé.
"It'd probably be the best way to communicate with him," said Obi-Wan.
"Nghn," said Padmé, not at all fond of the lower, crime-infested levels of Coruscant.
"Or rather," said Obi-Wan, observing Padmé and seeming to self-correct, "Anakin and I could just go, if… you would rather not, Padmé?"
"Well, I mean," said Padmé, meandering, "if you'd rather I stay back, I could… I'm sure you can both handle it… probably…?"
"If you want to come, you can," he offered, "I was just saying that if you wanted to, of course you could stay behind and we could just..."
"No, I wasn't saying that at all," said Padmé, holding out her hands, "I mean, I've gone this far, so maybe I should just keep going…?"
"Oh, my, KRIFF!" interrupted Anakin, exploding with exasperation. He gave them both a stern glance, each in turn. "Stop that! Now. Please."
"Stop what?" asked both Obi-Wan and Padmé.
Anakin groaned and drove his hands into his hair, making it stick up more than usual.
"So… you're coming?" Obi-Wan asked Padmé.
"Of course," she said with a smile. "What would you do without your negotiator?"
"We'd be entirely lost, of course," replied Obi-Wan, giving her a half-smile in return.
"SO…," said Anakin, "if your friend in the underbelly of Coruscant actually has the information we need, then we can use these reports to find out the location of where all the orders are coming from."
"So I guess we should hope he does," said Padmé, shifting her gaze to Obi-Wan.
"And probably also hope we're not robbed blind, or murdered, or sold into slavery while we're there," added Obi-Wan, probably too calmly.
Padmé was definitely not looking forward to this, but she wasn't going to tell them that.
It was interesting returning to Coruscant after having been "adventuring" as they had for the past week or so. She didn't return as a senator or any kind of dignitary, or on any official business at all. That was a first, for her. Something about entering the atmosphere of Coruscant put her in a negotiating mood, so she supposed she was in the right place. Although this time it appeared as if Obi-Wan would be doing the negotiating.
While Anakin was landing the transport in a discrete location, Padmé stopped Obi-Wan in the alcove.
"Hey," she said to him.
"Yes?" he inquired.
"I, um, just wanted to apologize," she said, "for the past few days. I feel terrible, and-…"
He stopped her with a hand.
"No, please don't," he said. "I should instead apologize to you. I acted reprehensibly."
"You didn't at all!" she objected. "How could you have known things would turn out that way?"
"I suppose I didn't," he said, "but it wasn't as if I knew nothing going in…"
"I still don't know what happened," she said, "Do you?"
"Um," said Obi-Wan, considering, "I suppose I can explain it like this: Usually when someone uses the force, and another person is aware of it, there's a space there, between you and that person, separating both of you. Unless you don't want that space to be there. But you usually do. You… almost always do. I would be so bold to say almost every time… ever… you do want that space to be there. Perhaps always, generally. Except that time, earlier, I… didn't."
Padmé glanced aside as her face began to feel warm.
"And I suppose neither did you," he added, more quietly, "Or else it wouldn't have happened. It's an… overlap… in the force. I suppose I don't need to mention that it can be very… intimate."
Padmé cleared her throat and said, "Yes, I gathered that."
He was silent until she hazarded a glance back to his eyes, and then he went on.
"I did not behave wisely," he said to her, as if it was another apology. "I hope you will forgive me."
"Only if you will forgive me," she replied.
"I will always forgive you, Padmé," he said, and it was so kind and endearing that she felt a twinge of irritation.
"My stars, Obi-Wan," she said, crossing her arms, "Stop being so perfect."
Obi-Wan chuckled.
"Perfect is something which I absolutely am not," he said, "Or else we wouldn't be here, would we?"
She glanced over his face.
"I am inclined to disagree," she stated, her inner diplomat coming to the surface. "I believe all of this has proven the theory of your perfection even further than before."
A bit of color rose at his neckline, and she observed it, and then smiled at him.
"So," she said to him, "We are both sorry, we are both forgiven, and we are both, hopefully, near the end of this escapade. And do you know what that means?"
"What is that?" he inquired.
"That we will soon be out of one another's hair and able to live normal lives, again," she said.
"I suppose that's true," he said, but in an instant that sunk in for them both, and Padmé realized she wasn't looking forward to it being over.
Well, she was because it was all dangerous and stressful and awful, but… she wasn't. As she glanced up at Obi-Wan, she realized it was all because of him. She loved getting to be near him day and night. She loved the feeling of being near him. She loved everything about him. She loved… him.
When had this happened, she wondered? Perhaps since the beginning. Perhaps always.
She turned aside at once.
"I wonder," she said, looking toward the front of the transport, "how Anakin is getting along?"
She began to move away, and he caught her wrist from behind.
"Wait," he said, his voice warm.
She was afraid to look at him, afraid of what she might see. She was afraid that he'd seen everything she had thought, and she wasn't sure she was ready to face that, not right now. Not in a stupid, stupid, transport alcove.
"Padmé," he said.
She braced herself for a moment, and then lifted her gaze to his, and then she didn't know at all why she would have ever been afraid. He was so very warm, so serene…
"You need to know, Padmé," he said, and then, correcting, "No, I… I want you to know."
"What do you want me to know?" she asked him.
"That I feel the same way," he confessed, and she saw, within the serenity, a certain small string of vulnerability thread through him. It hurt then, a little bit, to know it and she felt tears coming, gradual but coming.
"What good does that do?" she asked, trying not to blink with the hope that she could keep a tear from falling, and trying to keep her diplomat's face from slipping.
"None," he admitted, diffusing her. "It's selfish of me, isn't it? To tell you. I just didn't want to be alone in knowing."
She reached out at once to touch the soft beard at his cheek and he fell in, turning his head to kiss her palm with a worshipful sigh. She reached for his other cheek as he kissed her palm again, bringing his hands up to hold her hand with a careful delicacy. He turned it, and then kissed the backs of her fingers softly, slowly, almost meditatively.
She ran her hand across his jawline, and down, to the pulse at his neck, which was warm, beating, and just for her as he turned her hand again and dropped his lips to the inside of her wrist, and there she could feel the soft puff of his breath against her pulse. She caught her breath without knowing it until she'd already gasped.
"How selfish I am," he whispered against her wrist, desperation creeping into his words.
She moved against him and kissed his temple.
"No…," she whispered to him, "No more selfish than I am."
They fell equally into an embrace; one of mutual, selfish surrender.
At that moment they felt the subtle jar of landing on solid ground and of the need for expediency, for Anakin had finished and would wonder where they were.
They pulled apart, but it was as if they were still connected by a thousand echoing threads strung between them, clamoring for a return to their previous unification.
"I was determined that this would not happen," said Padmé.
"So was I," confessed Obi-Wan.
She then became hopelessly lost in his gaze for at least three seconds, all the while her brain was yelling at her that she didn't have three seconds to spare.
"We're down!" called Anakin's voice from the cockpit, and they turned at once to join him.
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South Coruscant, or so it was called even though there wasn't really anything particularly "south" about it since it was everywhere but just lower in elevation from the rest of Coruscant, was a dim, mismatched jigsaw puzzle cobbled together from half-formed alleys and leaning doors in the shadow of harsh violets and blues, and an oozing smog of swirling ghosts in the lopsided cadence of gasping, old bulbs. It wasn't Padmé's favorite place. Something about it felt… catching, and not in a good way.
They ducked into a dimly lit doorway at Obi-Wan's behest, falling into a dive which he called 'the best place for information this side of the middle rim', whatever that meant. It again made Padmé wonder what sorts of things Obi-Wan might tend to get up to in his meddling time.
He'd been insistent that she wear the hood of her cloak up for this encounter, saying that this wasn't a place where one shows one's face. She readily complied, feeling quite agreeable about maintaining her anonymity here. He and Anakin likewise wore their cowls, and, despite being shrouded, it seemed as if Anakin found this place very interesting.
Once within, Obi-Wan made his way through the locals easily, passing as smoothly as a fish through water, and in fact, she was fairly certain he did something to those minds they passed to make his party as unremarkable as possible. Hardly anyone batted an eye at their passing. It was as if they were never there. Padmé felt, for a moment, like a ghost.
They crossed the mainland of the dive and moved into a plain side room with a holotable. There, Obi-Wan took the lead and motioned for Padmé to sit, which she did, and then he took a seat beside her. Anakin remained standing and alert nearby.
She felt tension emanate from Obi-Wan at that moment, causing her to glance over at him. He didn't look tense at all and actually looked as serene as ever, if perhaps a bit more focused than usual. She touched his hand lightly and a faint wave of his tension spilled over into her, which she buffeted, absorbed it, and it dissipated. He glanced at her and gave her a faint smile.
"Well, hello there," said a man's voice. Padmé pulled her hand away to see a man lope to sit across from them at the holotable who appeared to be made from roguish leans and lopsided smiles. He didn't so much sit in the chair across from them as lounge recklessly in it. She wondered what held him together, what with appearing to be made of so many loose parts.
"Close that door, would you?" he said, pointing his chin at Anakin, and the door.
Anakin gave him a dark look over being commanded to do anything, and then shut the door.
"Hello, again," said Obi-Wan, leaning his elbows on the table. "I wanted to thank you for your help with the… droid situation."
The man shrugged one shoulder and said, "Seems like it worked. So far, anyway. My people see it as a step in the right direction."
Then he glanced at Padmé.
"Who's that?" he asked, as if she wasn't sitting right there and he could have just asked her. Instead, he asked Obi-Wan as if he were the only person who could speak for her, as if she were a terrified little mouse who couldn't say anything. She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward in her chair.
"I'm no one," she said, "Definitely, absolutely no one."
She felt as if Obi-Wan was amused beside her.
The man's eyebrows raised, and he nodded a few times as if in consideration.
"All right," he said, "Whatever you say, no one. I can get behind that."
"I'm here to ask a favor," said Obi-Wan.
"Oh?" asked the man.
"I know in the past I've seen you and your friends' preparations as being a bit on the radical side, but I'm afraid that with the new information I've gotten that your ideas are a little less far-fetched… although hopefully still preventable," said Obi-Wan.
"Now I'm really interested," said the man.
"I don't understand," said Padmé. "What preparations?"
"No one is nosy," said the man, shifting his gaze to Padmé.
"We can trust no one," assured Obi-Wan.
The man seemed vaguely amused, and then waved a hand in allowance to Obi-Wan to explain.
"He's with a group of… I wouldn't call them anarchists," Obi-Wan told her, "But I would say they're preparing for the fall of the Republic."
"Preposterous," replied Padmé.
"Perhaps not so much as you might think," said Obi-Wan.
Padmé felt outrage rise in her; just considering the idea seemed insane. Obi-Wan seemed to sense this, and he quickly went on.
"It's not definite, of course. Nothing ever is. Nor have I given up hope," said Obi-Wan, "But the fabric of the Republic has been eroding for centuries, though I work toward a renewal, not preparation for the ruin. That's where I and my associate differ."
Padmé glanced at the man, and he shrugged as if he thought Obi-Wan was a hopeless romantic for the Republic's survival.
"However, we are united in the idea of salvaging what can be salvaged," said Obi-Wan. "So he works on his preparations for a future rebellion he thinks will be necessary once the Republic dissolves, and I work on preserving what we currently have. I think it's much easier to preserve it than to have to rebuild again after destroying it."
"I just think it's better to be prepared," said the man, who seemed to find all this explaining boring.
Padmé looked at Obi-Wan, feeling an unfamiliar weakness where she had before felt impenetrable.
"Do you think it's as bad as this?" she asked Obi-Wan. "Is it really this far gone? How could I not know? How could I not know it?"
He looked at her with compassion and empathy, knowing full well this was her life. She had poured her entire life into the government of the Republic as a public servant, and now felt as if the foundation upon which she had always stood wasn't the solid bedrock she had always believed, but weak and cracking beneath her.
"I think it is not so far gone as to be impossible to save," replied Obi-Wan.
"She's a senator, isn't she?" asked the man.
Padmé gasped and looked at him, but he just looked bored and as if he didn't care. He even had the gall to look as if having a galactic senator there was tiresome.
"Whatever," he said, "You wouldn't be the first down here. Look, I don't have all day. What do you want to know, and how will it help me?"
"We need to know where the Hutt syndicates are currently located," said Obi-Wan.
"Well, you sure go straight to the top, don't you?" said the man, chuckling.
"We're actually trying to track down somebody even higher," said Obi-Wan.
"There's somebody running the Hutts?" asked the man incredulously. "I doubt it."
"Not running them…," said Obi-Wan. "There's somebody offering them deals to their mutual benefit. The Hutts get financial benefits, and the person we're after, well, I suppose you could call it political benefits."
"Huh," said the man, thoughtful.
"We think this person's trying to weaken the Republic, perhaps irrevocably," said Obi-Wan.
"Okay," said the man. "Probably also a senator."
"Possibly," said Obi-Wan, trying to be fair.
"This is why we prepare, Madame No One," said the man, giving Padmé a wry smile. "Because the galactic senators can't seem to stop fighting long enough to let the Republic function like a proper government. It can't continue like this forever."
Padmé let out an annoyed noise but kept her thoughts to herself.
"All right," said the man, "Give me ten clicks and I can probably get this information for you. I'm going to need a lot of credits, though. I'm going to have to play a lot of games of nerf-herder to get it out of the right people."
"Very well," said Obi-Wan, rising. "Get the information and I'll give you your credits. A pleasure doing business, again."
"Likewise."
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