Faster-than-light-speed had been an amazing discovery that had enabled ships to travel great distances in short periods of time. Hyperspace travel had shortened the time still further, so that any given light year could be covered in a fraction of the time. Obi-Wan had settled back in the ratty seat of the transport ship and waited, patiently. And waited. And waited.
The average time for transit between Alderaan and Tatooine had been about three days on a public transport; but this one seemed below par. After four days, the ship had finally begun an orbital approach to Alderaan. Despite repeated meditations, Obi-Wan had found himself anxiously willing the ship to move faster. He even found himself envying Anakin's calm; for he was composed both outwardly and inwardly. His tranquility was startling, never before had the younger man been so still, so—serene. When at last the ship had docked with orbital control, Anakin stood and stretched. He reached for his bag in the compartment above him, moving with a fluidity and grace that Obi-Wan couldn't even muster after four days in a cramped ship.
"Should we take a ride down to the planet surface?" he asked quietly, even as he snagged Han by the back of his shirt and pulled him back.
"I had planned on it. Haven't taken a trip down to Alderaan in ages." Obi-Wan lied smoothly. They disembarked and moved through a turnstile, where Anakin paused to swipe their credits card through the machine. Taking a handhold on a station shuttle, Obi-Wan watched through the tinted windows as Anakin settled their bags at his feet and took his own handle. Alderaan was as it had ever been, since its admission to the Republic a millennia ago. Peaceful waterfalls, aethestically pleasing architecture and people of a gentle nature made up one of the most influential planets in the Old Republic—and the Empire. As the shuttle docked, Obi-Wan released his handle and took the luggage from Anakin as he struggled to manage it and keep the boy from taking off. Smiling to himself, Obi-Wan shook his head as Anakin snagged Han by the arm and escorted him forward. A sudden blur of white caught his eye, and he looked up to find he had run into a stormtrooper in full armor.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." He said softly, and backed up a step.
"Quite all right." The clone said, and Obi-Wan swallowed his nervousness. Casting a look to his right, he found Anakin shooting him a look of his own, but was wisely holding his tongue as he shephered young Han out into the waiting area.
"Where do you think we should go first?" Anakin asked, and Obi-Wan forced himself to look away from the milling troopers.
"I don't know, actually." He answered. "I hadn't planned on it being so crowded."
Leaving Anakin to watch the boy, Obi-Wan made a few discreet inquiries and discovered that the stormtroopers were part of a garrison leaving for the outer rim. He also learned through a chatty bartender that the Grand Moff Tarkin was rumored to be paying a visit to the people of Alderaan; and was to meet with Prince Organa shortly.
And unexpectedly.
Anakin was on his feet with the boy, ready to move when Obi-Wan returned. Without saying a word, Anakin moved to the ticket counter and booked passage for all of them on another transport.
To Imperial Center.
Few things could be universally constant like Coruscant, Obi-Wan decided. After another two day journey on a public ship, it was a welcome relief to see the corona of light reflected from the city planet's metallic surface. It blazed brighter than the distant sun and cast a halo about their beleagured transport as it moved to join the entry lane. Nothing had changed in his ten year absence, at least not outwardly. Speeder lanes appeared as poorly regulated as ever; filled to capacity and beyond with vehicles of every make, including many that should not have been allowed to remain operational. As the transport broke atmosphere, Obi-Wan pulled the shade down and grinned, ruefully. It was good to be home again, no matter the circumstances.
Opposite him, Anakin had at last succumbed to sleep; sitting upright in his seat with his head resting against the wall. Even their young pickpocket slept, slouched in his chair. Reaching out gently, Obi-Wan shook Anakin's shoulder to bring him to wakefulness.
"Where are we?" he asked tiredly; sitting up stiffly.
"Just breaking atmosphere." Obi-Wan whispered softly. "Did you dream?"
"Not anymore." Anakin whispered. Obi-Wan sighed to himself, but said nothing further as Anakin woke the boy.
"I assume we're going pretty far down." Obi-Wan announced, as the ship took a deep descent angle.
"Wouldn't be much point to landing up on top these days." Anakin shook his head; whether in exasperation or amusement Obi-Wan couldn't tell. "Business should be as usual below the surface."
"You think so?"
"Trust me, Ben." Anakin said, looking him right in the eyes. "Some things never change."
Outside the window, the scenery began to change from the sun kissed spires of the upper level to the dingy midlevel. Lower and lower they spiraled; the shadows crept in as they gathered their belongings and prepared to disembark. The pleasant morning up on the surface had long since faded into an inky blackness that smelled of smoke and exhaust and professed a multitiude of sins. The transport leveled out and made to berth as the passengers got to their feet. Anakin swung his bag up onto his shoulder and put a retraining hand on Han's.
"You ever been to Coruscant, kid?" he asked in a low voice.
"I can handle myself." Han muttered angrily.
"Not here, you can't. You keep your hands to yourself. There's no mercy here for some dumb kid trying his hand at petty crime. They'd rather shoot first and ask questions later." Anakin warned.
Han shrugged Anakin's hand off and turned to glare at him fully. "How long do you plan on keeping me?"
"Til you save my life, kid." Anakin answered glibly. "You owe me now."
"How do you figure I owe you that much? I didn't even steal anything!" Han protested.
"I saved your life. You weren't that good at theft and sooner or later you'd have starved to death."
Obi-Wan hid a smile as they shuffled off the transport and out into the main arrival platform. As expected, it was dimly lit and dingy. Looking about, he could already see two professional pickpockets and a handful of assorted death stick dealers. He looked to Anakin, to find he had once more taken hold of the boy's shirt and was escorting him toward the nearest escalator. Standing grouped together on the steps, Obi-Wan looked up in time to see a massive vid re-running footage of the High Chancellor's moving speech to the Imperial Senate. Anakin's features were inscrutable; but his eyes shone with something between longing and anguish.
It had been a rough night, Sabe mused wearily. Rubbing her eyes, she moved out onto the veranda and blinked in the glare of the sun. Amidala had overdone it the day before, and it hadn't been long after Luke boarded his transport that Sabe had been alerted to Amidala's bedside when her oxygenation levels dropped without warning.
She had all but sprinted down the hallway to find Amidala gasping for breath and had hurriedly fitted her with her mask; but even that was not enough. Liral had taken one look at her and quickly ordered her back into her hyperbaric chamber. Sabe had reluctantly helped him carry her in—even in the face of her silent, wheezing protest—and tucked her into bed. Liral had activated the seals and silently held out a breather mask for Sabe, who took it hesitantly. The masks had been a necessity for all assisting with her care, for the heavily oxygenated air tended to make those with healthy lung tissue very light headed.
"How bad is it?" Sabe asked, once she had fitted the mask. Her voice sounded distant even to her own ears, and she cursed the mask's muffling effect. In the bed, Amidala seemed to be getting the air she needed at last, for her eyes were fluttering closed.
"Not as I would like." Liral muttered faintly, and Sabe closed her eyes, and counted to three. It would not do to strangle the High Chancellor's personal physician. Especially not in the chamber that he had specifically designed to help her breathe better. Sabe repressed the urge to giggle at that; the oxygen rich environment must have affected her more than she had previously thought.
"How would you like it?" she asked as politely as she could. There must have been some note of frustration in her voice, for the physician turned to look at her shrewdly.
"I would like to see her oxygenation levels at least close to ninety. But as it is, even on her best day they are in the mid-seventies. If you'll note the readout, you cannot help but notice that they are barely over sixty."
"Could you guess what triggered this attack?" Sabe asked as she moved over to check Amidala's pulse for herself despite being able to see it on the monitor above her head.
"Too much activity." Liral said dryly. "I cannot stress to her Excellency enough the seriousness of her condition. Despite the Emperor's assistance, she can hardly expect to be up and about only a day after her last bout with illness."
Sabe nodded. "I agree. Still, milady is nothing if not diligent about service."
"I am well aware of her ladyship's diligence, handmaiden." Liral said. "She should be commended for her service to the Empire. And then hospitalized."
"Surely it's not that severe?" Sabe asked as the physician shook his head at the readings the monitors displayed.
"Not yet." Liral quietly shuffled back to his infopads and made a couple notes. "I will try a couple of treatments that will hopefully ease the irritation in the alveoli and enable her to use more of the oxygen she breathes in on her own."
"And if not?"
"Then hospitalization may be required."
"Milady destests hospitals." Sabe warned.
"I am aware of that." Liral muttered darkly as he bared Amidala's arm and admistered a shot. He rubbed the injection site for a moment, and then set her arm down.
"We'll give this an hour or so to work."
"Very well." Sabe agreed, as Liral packed up his bags and left Sabe to tend her mistress in silence.
Obi-Wan had chucked in amusement at Han's determination to hold a grudge. The boy had all but refused to remain with Anakin willingly by the time they left the docking pad, and Anakin had been forced to resort to the Force itself to hang onto him. Unfortunately for the boy, he looked like a pet psycho on a chain; for he raged to anyone and everyone in earshot that he was being held against his will.
Invisibly.
Anakin had been deeply amused by the boy's vocal protest, winking in good humor at everyone who looked their direction. A few chuckled with him. Once out of the spaceport's bustling pad, Obi-Wan shaded his eyes and peered up into the skyline.
"How far down do you think we are?" he asked, and Anakin shrugged nonchalantly.
"Fifty, sixty levels maybe."
"I've never been here before."
"I believe that." Anakin muttered, as he began shepherding them toward a walking lane.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Obi-Wan demanded breathlessly as they jogged across the street to avoid a multidecker speeder barreling toward them.
"You didn't get out much, did you, Ben?"
"Sure I did. I went to plays and vids."
"Up on the surface."
"Well, yes. That was only because that's where they were." Obi-Wan bristled defensively.
"It's a whole different world down here, which I'm sure you've noticed." Anakin soothed, and Obi-Wan marveled at the suddenly diplomatic note Anakin's tone had taken.
"Did you come down here a lot?"
Anakin nodded, after a moment. "When I was a kid, whenever we had free time. I liked the gambling. They even have an underground pod racing movement. All amateurs, of course."
"Did you race?" Obi-Wan asked shrewdly, and watched Anakin closely. To his surprise, the younger man turned to face him with an open, honest expression.
"No. I'd decided it wasn't fair for me to enter a race knowing that I was going to win." Anakin put his hands in the pockets of his robe and shuffled past Obi-Wan to pull Han away from the wall he'd been leaning on and guide him down the moving sidewalk once more.
Obi-Wan watched him walk away; feeling surprised and oddly pleased to learn that Anakin had not raced. It was comforting to know that the boy he had known; the one who could make such conscientious decisions was still somewhere in the man that stood beside him.