A/N : Not much action in this chapter, but a little more
background. Expect more updates soon, and thanks so much for the
reviews. Keep 'em coming :-)
42 BBY
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was not given to many moments of self-doubt. But he could feel a rare one overtaking him as he stared down at his discovery with troubled grey eyes.
The yellow bars of light from the shaded window gleamed over the objects unsympathetically. They were varied; a comlink, a short-bladed dagger, a cloak pin, a few Republican credits. He had found them all wrapped in a ragged cloak and stuffed beneath the improvised pallet in his apartment's common room.
There was a low swish from the other room as the door of the apartment opened. He closed his eyes briefly and distinguished the girl's presence. "Youngling," he called.
She all but ran into the room, the energy there spiking with her effervescent aura. Her face was lit with a kind of wild joy, her cheeks rosy from exercise, and her brilliant hair loose and tangled around her face. Her intention seemed to be to run into his arms. It would have been an extremely rare display of affection for her. But she stopped dead when she noticed the pilfered items spread on the cloak in his lap.
She showed no fear, no shame, not even surprise. The silence stretched on for one minute, two. She clasped her hands behind her back. "Will you take me back now?"
Qui-Gon looked at her closely. "Is that what you want?"
"No." She met his eyes unflinchingly.
"Why have you stolen these things?"
The word seemed to catch her. Perhaps she had not thought of it as stealing at all. For the first time she showed signs of unease, studying the floor and shifting from foot to foot. "I have to give them to Vigo."
Vigo was not a name, but a title. Despite the best efforts of the Senate and the Jedi, the elusive Black Sun still held tight control of the Coruscanti underworld. Qui-Gon had heard rumors that they collected tribute from every drug dealer, smuggler, assassin, thief, and prostitute in the city, but he had never imagined they would bother with five-year-old pickpockets. "Why?"
"He'll cut my throat." The matter-of-fact words were all the more disturbing when framed with her childish voice.
"You aren't going back there," Qui-Gon said with conviction.
"I'll stay here, then? Always?"
Qui-Gon sighed and folded the items within the cloak. The note of hope she'd allowed to creep into her words almost seemed to pain her. But honestly, he couldn't answer her question. Her midi-chlorian level was well over the Temple's requirements, but her age and lack of training made her an unlikely candidate. In addition, she'd shown many undesirable personality traits; a predilection to sudden violence, an inability to properly socialize with the other initiates, and now this.
"It is a dangerous thing to make promises about the future," he said. "Our paths are winding."
The girl hung her head.
"But the Council will not abandon you to the streets," Qui-Gon leaned forward and hooked his fingers under her chin. "Nor will I."
The girl's eyes were no less penetrating than usual.
"Now return these items to their owners," Qui-Gon said.
The girl took the bundle and retraced her steps out of the apartment.
Tatooine
32 BBY
Sabe dreamed of Naboo that night.
She was standing in the streets, once again surrounded by battle droids with the others flanking her. All at once, just as before, the Jedi dropped into view from nowhere, their lightsabers flashing as they quickly dispatched the droids. She felt Qui-Gon's hand on her arm again, heard the same words. "We must leave the streets, your highness."
The conversation proceeded just as on the previous day, with the Jedi hastening her and her entourage to the hangar. Outside, everyone turned to her to make the decision to stay or flee.
But this time as she turned, Padme was gone. In a panic she looked for the disguised Queen, but only the other handmaidens looked at her expectantly. "Where is the handmaiden, Padme?" She asked, but they just shook their heads in confusion.
And then, over the shoulders of the Jedi, she saw the people of Naboo limping and crawling toward them, some bloodied and others starving with shadowed eyes and protruding ribs. Behind them, Naboo was changing. Rather than the graceful turrets of the palace, she saw permacrete structures piling one on top of the other, bridges and factory smokestacks. It all layered and lengthened until the light from the sun itself was blocked, and the orange glow of streetlights was the only illumination. "Where is Padme?" She repeated frantically.
Obi-Wan stepped in front of her, grasping her shoulder and shaking hard. "It's only you now, Sabe," He said, his smile mocking and malicious. "Wake up, you are the only one now. Wake—"
"—Up," Obi-Wan's voice bled into Eirtae's, and Sabe sat straight up in bed, gasping.
"Gods, Sabe," Eirtae said, jumping back from her.
"A dream," Sabe explained, still breathing quickly.
"Well, hurry up," Eirtae said. "The Queen has not returned and the Padawan has communicated with Master Jinn."
Sabe bit back an angry reply, reminding herself that even Padme had been on the receiving end of Eirtae's sharp words on more than one occasion. She threw off her covers and stood, allowing Eirtae to guide her to a chair before the vanity where the handmaiden began dressing her hair and Rabe began applying the thick white makeup. "What time is it?" Sabe managed to ask around Rabe's ministrations.
"Just after Tatooine's dawn, but well into Naboo's afternoon," Eirtae said with obvious disapproval.
"Why didn't you wake me sooner?"
"I wouldn't let her," Rabe cut in. "You need your rest to heal properly."
"Any word from Padme?" Sabe asked.
Rabe shook her head.
"Maybe…they are on their way back?" Sabe suggested doubtfully.
"I doubt it. I don't even think they will begin before tomorrow morning," Eirtae said.
"Tomorrow? I was hoping we'd be on our way by tonight!" Sabe exclaimed.
"We'll see," Eirtae said skeptically.
Sabe was going to ask her about her negativity, but Rabe plopped the feathered headdress down over her head before she got the chance.
Fifteen minutes later, Sabe was reflecting on just how much she was beginning to hate the bare, windowless receiving room.
"Qui-Gon has made some headway," Obi-Wan said. Apparently he had made contact with his Master sometime the previous evening. "He expects that he will be able to procure the necessary parts tomorrow morning."
Sabe nearly groaned aloud in disappointment. "And how is this to come about?"
If she was not mistaken, that was the identical look to a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "He has made several…ah…investments that he will use to pay the debt."
"What manner of investments?" Sabe asked suspiciously.
"Master Jinn did not give me details, but he assured me that Handmaiden Padme is seeing to it that he acts in a manner befitting the protection of her highness," Obi-Wan said evasively, bowing.
He could not have picked a more diplomatic way of pacifying her, Sabe reflected. But something was afoot. "Very well," she said as imperiously as she could. "We expect that Master Jinn will not act outside the laws of the Republic or Naboo, and that his padawan will update us frequently."
To her surprise, his eyes twinkled merrily. But before she could understand what had amused him so suddenly, his face was the picture of gravity once more. "As you say, your highness."
Obi-Wan's strange behavior was explained when Padme com-linked a while later. She was tense and irritable, and looked uncharacteristically tired and disheveled on the screen. "These Jedi are insufferable," she spluttered as soon as the connection was clear.
"What's happening?" Eirtae asked over Sabe's shoulder.
"Master Qui-Gon," Padme began, pronouncing his name with the utmost contempt. "Has used our ship as the entry fee for a pod race in Mos Espa."
"What!"
Padme spared a little grin at their chorused outburst and briefly related the events of the last day. "The boy Anakin will be operating a pod in the Boonta Eve race tomorrow. Boonta Eve, mind you! That they celebrate a notorious pirate should be enough to tell you what sort of place we are in. If we win, we'll have our hyperdrive. If we lose…" she trailed off ominously.
"We're screwed," Eirtae said mournfully. Rabe gave her a disapproving look.
"Well…yes," Padme agreed. She shook her head. "What's happening there?"
They all began talking at once.
"—Padawan Kenobi has been playing the secret squirrel during briefings," Sabe put in.
"—And we were attacked by Tusken Raiders." Rabe interrupted.
"—And Sabe ran off again and got wounded," Eirtae finished with satisfaction.
Padme seemed dizzy with the information, but she finally latched on to the very thing Sabe hoped she wouldn't. "Wounded?"
"Just a scratch," Sabe said uncomfortably.
She squirmed before the look of concern on Padme's face.
"It was a little more than a scratch, Sabe," Rabe said softly.
"Why on earth would you have occasion to be wounded?" Padme asked, her voice a bit shrill.
"The Tusken raiders attacked the ship. I heard them, and went to help," Sabe explained defensively.
Padme said nothing for a moment. Then she gave a deep sigh, the sound of a mother hen with a troublesome brood.
"I was only…trying to make my characterization of you more accurate," Sabe joked lamely.
"After this, you'll have no grounds to criticize, Sabe," Padme said with her eyes closed. "I hope your little exercise did not compromise protocol?"
Rabe and Eirtae's eyes were suddenly intense on her face. She gave them a pleading look, and finally Rabe guided Eirtae away by the arm so she could confer with Padme alone. "He recognized that I had been outside," Sabe stammered. "But he has not remembered me, and he has no reason to think that I am not the Queen."
Clear relief crossed Padme's face. "Good. That is a complication I do not need right now." She huffed. "Qui-Gon gives me enough trouble as a handmaiden. I can only imagine how he would behave if he knew I was Queen."
Sabe stifled a smirk. Qui-Gon was unchanged, at least. "Master Qui-Gon has long held a decidedly odd sense of humor."
"Well, his sense of humor is lost on me since it is at my expense," Padme groused. "Using this boy in his elaborate chess match with my ship..."
Sabe's grin broke through her control. She could see that Padme was well on her way to a towering rage. "If he is investing so much in this boy there must be a reason."
Padme's forehead crinkled. "There is something about him. He is…untouched. And smart. Master Jinn could not hide that he was a Jedi for long."
"You think every child is a prophet," Sabe teased.
"I've never known a child like Anakin before," Padme said softly.
Anakin… There was something in the name. Some echo, like the drip of water from somewhere within a cavern. "I wish I could meet the boy who has captured the Queen's heart so completely."
"I wish you could too," Padme said, frowning. "The conditions these people live in…they are very different from Naboo, Sabe."
Suddenly she turned, as if interrupted from someone behind her. "I must go, Sabe. Anakin needs a hand with the pod."
She turned back toward the screen, her face stern but her eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth. "No more adventures, Sabe,"
"Of course," Sabe said, her cheeks coloring.
"Try to send Anakin your courage tomorrow," Padme said affectionately. "He will need it."
The comvid screen clicked to blackness. Sabe threw it aside and leaned back on her bed, resting her head on her arm as she stared at the ceiling. Part of her was relieved Padme had taken the news of her wound so lightly. But part of her was still deeply ashamed as Rabe and Eirtae's disapproval had sunk in. Padme's news about the race came back to her and cold fear closed around her heart. The success or failure of their mission was on the edge of a knife. She thought of Governor Bibble, of Sache, and Yane.
The fate of all of them rested on the shoulders of this unknown boy. Remembering Padme's last words, Sabe closed her eyes, reached out with her feelings, and attempted to send encouragement in the direction of Mos Espa.
The rest of the day made Sabe almost long for another attack to break up the monotony.
In a way they were fortunate. The Nubian had been lavishly outfitted for Queen Amidala's diplomatic missions. There were two holds, forward and aft, just before the receiving room and the turbolift to the raised cockpit. Within the forward hold were a simple dining area, computer consoles, and even hydroponic lamps providing light for some lower maintenance Naboovian greens. In front of that was the corridor with a kitchen on one side and the crewmen's bunkroom on the other. Their separate quarters at the end of the corridor allowed them to mostly isolate themselves from the rest of the crew and from Obi-Wan, shielding Sabe from detection. The accommodations were comfortable even in the desert heat, and there was no need to worry about their food supply yet. But there was no way for them to get a break from one another either. And while Rabe and Eirtae managed to find ways to entertain themselves, Sabe could find nothing among Padme's book collection to interest her, nothing in their quarters to distract her from everything that had happened.
Toward evening Rabe brought a food tray and all but forced it upon Sabe. But Sabe found her appetite lacking, and Rabe and Eirtae seemed to share her opinion, soon pushing their own trays aside. For a while Rabe busied herself with changing Sabe's dressings and exclaiming over her injury, but soon there was nothing for any of them to do but make ready for bed. Rabe flicked out the light, and Sabe heard the rustling sounds as the other two handmaidens made themselves comfortable. Then there was silence, and Sabe thought they were drifting off, until she heard Rabe's voice, small in the dark.
"Do you think Sache and Yane are all right?"
After a moment, Eirtae answered brusquely, "They're handmaidens aren't they?" Sabe heard her roll over. "Good, tough stock."
Sabe smiled a little. She wasn't sure either Sache or Yane quite had Eirtae's grit. She thought of shy Sache, the girl with a fondness for animals and flowers who still got too easily distracted. And Yane, with her infectious giggle, seemed to know the doings of every man, woman, and child within twenty miles of Theed. She could not fathom either of them in the prison camps.
Soon she heard Rabe and Eirtae's deep, regular breathing. She lay still as still as she could herself, but after an hour she gave up. Even if she did sleep, she had the uneasy feeling that it would only be to more nightmares. Quietly she slipped from her bed and pulled a blue cloak over her head. Wincing from her wound, she padded across the floor toward the door.
The ship was mostly silent, with a few low murmurings from the crewmen's bunkroom as they engaged in a card game, and the thrum of the power generators below the floor that kept them cool and supplied with light. Sabe held her breath as she walked past the partially open bunkroom door, and entered the hold.
Her heart nearly stopped as she realized she wasn't alone. From the far corner, the reddish glow of a computer console lit the chiseled features of Obi-Wan. But he did not sense her presence immediately, engaged as he was in a conversation by comlink. A thread of excitement raised his voice above its normal level."…higher than Master Yoda's."
Her interest piqued, she crept closer. She had not seen much of Obi-Wan outside of his briefings, and during them his reports remained deliberately cryptic.
"Yes," Sabe recognized Qui-Gon's voice, muffled by the static of the comlink.
"What does that mean?" Obi-Wan asked.
"I don't know," Qui-Gon said. There was a pause, and then the sound of the comlink disengaging.
For as long as she had known him, Obi-Wan had always been tightly controlled, inscrutable. But now Sabe was fascinated by the emotions she was picking up from him. She wondered what had happened to work him up so much. She moved a bit closer and peered at his computer screen.
It appeared to be a graph, and she had seen something like it before. A blood analysis, she realized after a moment, remembering her own from the Temple many years ago. Then Obi-Wan shifted, and she was able to see the count listed below the graph. She gave an involuntary gasp.
Obi-Wan turned his head toward her, and stood with a courtly bow. "If you are curious, your highness, you have only to ask."
Sabe flushed. "Pardon my intrusion. My curiosity overcame my manners."
"No intrusion your highness," Obi-Wan's brows lifted. "This is your ship."
Sabe suddenly wondered if he had recognized her instantly on the streets of Theed and was only playing with her now. No, Jedi aren't that cruel, she thought. She crossed the room, adjusting her hood to shadow her features, and leaned down to see the screen more clearly. "If I may ask…"
"This is a midi-chlorian blood level," Obi-Wan looked ready to give her an explanation, but Sabe raised her hand.
"I recognize it. Who does it belong to?"
Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up.
"We learned of them in the academy," Sabe explained quickly. It was not a complete untruth.
"I suppose we are studied as an oddity in Naboo," Obi-Wan said, the corners of his mouth lifting. "As we are in many systems."
Sabe swallowed. "Not so much as you might imagine."
Obi-Wan cleared his throat, changing the subject. "Was there something else you needed, your highness?"
Sabe glanced longingly back toward her only escape route. "I…couldn't sleep. I thought if it was safe I might venture outside."
Obi-Wan fixed her with his calm blue eyes. He used to smile more, Sabe thought suddenly, and then turned her face away lest her thought betray her. "I will escort you," He said.
They climbed down the small maintenance hatch beneath the aft hull. Obi-Wan gave her a hand down and Sabe made a sound of surprise as her boots sank into several inches of fine white sand. Though the air was chilly, the sand retained the day's heat, encasing her feet in warmth. She saw two guards on either end of the ship turn at the sound, and then relax again at the sight of Obi-Wan, their hands falling away from their blasters.
The desert was transformed from the tumultuous horror of the previous day to perfect quiet. The play of shadows on the ever-changing dunes was graceful, the ripples and curves reminding Sabe of the braids in a Naboovian woman's hair. The contrast of the orange sand against the dusky purple sky had a completely alien quality to it. But the beauty did not comfort her. And it seemed completely lost on Obi-Wan.
"It is nothing but a sheer expanse of desert," He said with distaste. "Scorched by two relentless suns."
"Is there no water here at all?" Sabe asked.
"Deep within the mantle there is a little. Tatooine's main industry is moisture farming." Obi-Wan explained. He turned, pointing to flickering lights that looked to be about five miles away. "That is Mos Espa."
"What a harsh place," Sabe remarked. "I can't imagine people living here."
"One can grow accustomed to most anything, your highness."
Sabe shivered, thinking suddenly of the cavernous avenues of Coruscant, the stink and refuse everywhere, the feeling of constantly being chased. "I suppose so."
Pulling her cloak around her against the nocturnal chill, she left the shelter of the ship's wing, looked up, and let out her breath. Thousands of spangles dazzled her eyes. She could pinpoint the hazy glow of a the Tingel Arm, but of course all the constellations were entirely different here. There were some brighter bodies low on the horizon which she figured to be moons, but she could recognize nothing. She glanced over at Obi-Wan. He too stared off into the distance, but he did not have the dreamy look of one enjoying the heavens. "What are you looking at?"
"I sense the raiders, just over that rise," he said. "I can feel their curiosity, and their fear."
She supposed it was just too much to expect that a Jedi would do something as capricious as looking at stars. But I am not like them, she told herself firmly, raising her head again. "Are you familiar at all with the constellations here?"
"Tolerably," He replied. "I studied the charts before our landing."
Sabe wondered if he was ever caught unprepared in any situation. "Where is Naboo?"
Obi-Wan considered for a few moments and then moved behind her, pointing over her shoulder so she could follow the line of his arm to the faint red dot just beyond his finger. Her shoulders slumped when she saw how small it appeared. Naboo was a lifetime away. Suddenly rather than beautiful, the foriegn arrangment of stars above seemed threatening. A breath of wind caught Obi-Wan's robe sleeve, fanning it against her cheek, and she realized how closely he was standing to her. She shrank away from him. Obi-Wan, noticing her movement, dropped his arm and moved to a respectful distance.
"You told us that transmission was a trick," Sabe ventured in a small voice. "If you assure me again that it is true, I will believe it."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "There is no way of knowing what is happening on Naboo."
"As a child I learned of Master Jinn's calculating and competent nature. Perhaps those tales were exaggerated?"
Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "You were correctly informed." He turned his head toward the lights of Mos Espa.
"But you are worried." Sabe commented.
He looked back at her, his brow knitting. "I…will not be surprised if we have an additional passenger when we leave this planet."
"Oh?" Sabe remembered the midi-chlorian count, and suddenly recalled Padme's description of the boy who would save or sink them. She considered his phrasing. "Don't you mean…if we leave?"
"When," he said emphatically. His blue eyes flicked to her, and they were kind. "We will reach Coruscant, of that I have no doubt. The rest we leave to you, your highness."
Sabe clutched the cloak more tightly around her, lowering her head so the hood totally obscured her eyes. If it had really been up to her, all would be lost. But thinking of Padme, she had every reason to be hopeful. "The Federation will feel Naboo's anger," she said softly.
She turned back toward the ship. Obi-Wan lingered behind, his eyes scanning the dunes with laser-like focus. Pausing, Sabe looked back. There was something in the way his robes blew away from his form, or maybe the proud line of his profile against the black sky. For tonight she could not hold anything against him, not when he and Qui-Gon stood with Padme, Naboo's last line of defense.
"Padawan Kenobi," she said.
He looked back at her.
"Thank you for your vigil," she said softly, and climbed back into the ship.