Chapter 7 The Quest Has Begun

Later that evening, after the palace was all asleep and at quiet hum of the force field surrounding her room, Orlé very carefully crafted her bed to give the illusion she was asleep. She had recorded a sound of her sleeping onto a chip and placed it into a device near her bed, pushed play, and got ready for her escape. After dressing down in simpler, brown clothes and braiding her hair into three massive braids, she grabbed a cloak and quietly, silently lifted the latch from her balcony's door. She slipped out, moving with the swiftness of fox, and smiled to herself. No one is on duty right now. Thank the Force!

She began her descent by the balcony and slowly worked her way across the several balconies until setting foot in front of Jorné's balcony. Despite her better judgement, she peeked through the window and saw the dark-haired woman staring back at her.

"Sweet Force, you scared me!" yelped Orlé, taking a tumbling backwards.

Jorné slipped a finger to her lips and stepped out onto the balcony, revealing that she was dressed in a dark cloak as well. "I very well couldn't let you go by yourself, now could I, your Majesty?"

Orlé chuckled and shook her head. Arguing with Jorné amounted to nothing; once she made her mind up, it couldn't be changed. She's just as stubborn as Queen Amidala was, I've heard.

Carefully making not a sound, the pair slipped down the sides of the palaces, watching their steps and being as silent as possible, as to not awake the guards. Running through the gardens, they came upon a great wall that lead to the outside, where a garage was which held a small skiff that the queen used rarely.

"We're going to need a way over, your Majesty. This wall is too high to just climb over," she said, looking expectantly at her. Orlé reached into the pocket of her cloak and pulled a small device.

"What's that, your Majesty?" she looked with great interest.

"First of all, Jorné, don't refer to me as your Majesty. I'm Orlé, and no one else right now," she said, looking around, pursing her lips together, as if the walls could repeat the conversation later. "And secondly," she said, sighing. "I just want to save Leia. I feel very strongly that I'll need her help one day and I cannot let something ever happen to her."

Orlé flashed a smile and pulled the hood of the cloak closer around her face.

"Now, give me a lift, will ya?"

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Obi-Wan passed several rows of junk parts until they found the item they needed. Nalia and Anakin were discussing a price, with Padmé standing next to him, trying to diplomatically bargain. He smiled inside, knowing that her skills as a senator seemed to not be tied to only the arena. I wonder if this was the only instance she had honed her skills outside her sentorial duties?

Perusing other objects, devices and small holographic chips, Obi-Wan caught himself stealing glances at the young woman. She was attractive, that much he could see. Her face was strong, and her eyes bright for her age and the line of work she was in. Junk dealers were usually the males of a species, although he knew of quite a few female dealers, shop-owners and some even higher-level executives in various business ventures, but it was the first time he saw a woman, like her, with the same feeling he got when he was around Anakin and Padmé. It was a strange feeling, almost like a stirring in the Force. Yes, a stirring. Something he hadn't felt ever before until his Jedi apprentice and the senator were together as a man and his wife.

Strange that I should feel this. It's a bit awkward.

Realizing that Nalia had caught him glancing at her, he turned away, blushing like schoolboy. His senses were going haywire at this woman; everything about her demeanor called to him and forced his senses away from his true purpose.

Anakin sensed something between the pair and smirked at Obi-Wan, who only scowled back and looked away. Anakin turned to Padmé who was striking a conversation with the woman. Hoo, Ol' Ben, you've caught yourself a crush, have ya?

Shut up, Anakin, he called back through the Force. This isn't a "crush" as you call it. I was just merely respecting her position as a junk dealer and the fact that she was a woman----

-----didn't even cross your mind, you old charmer, you.

SHUT UP, ANAKIN!!!!

Playful bantering over, the Jedi pair, senator and junk dealer all approached the counter for payment. Anakin and Obi-Wan were still trading glances back and forth, dealing little punches, with Padmé huffing and making a remark about men being just little boys in bigger bodies. Nalia let out a small laugh and totaled the order.

"With the part and spare couplings, it comes to 2,000 credits."

The pronouncement of the bill perked both the mens' ears up, making Nalia and Padmé laugh again. With a sigh, Padmé pulled out a small, holographic card and handed it to her.

"This should pay for it and then some, Nalia. And it was a pleasure to have met you."

It is times like this when all seems too perfect that something happens. And it's usually for the worse. At that instant, a tracking device had let out a small beeping sound at a nearby console on a ship just outside orbit of Lillith6. The sleek ship buzzed to life, with a dark-haired woman cackling.

"Seems as if I have found you, Senator. And your precious Jedi husband as well."

The dark-haired woman laughed a throaty laugh and began entering sequences that would set the ship to land within a matter of minutes. And with a little bit of luck, I might be able to rid of you all after all these years.

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Nearly seven years ago, after the Farmland Massacre, many reports came flooding through the HoloNet news about a certain rogue Jedi that had escaped years earlier. For weeks, reporters, journalists and psychologists came to ask questions of the Jedi Council, and, for the first time, the Jedi were under a publicity attack. People began to distrust the Jedi, thinking that maybe their lives behind those temple walls were not everything that was promised. Not everything was bound to the Law and the Order, as told by some senior council members in the precious few interviews that the HoloNet was able to obtain and release. It was then that drastic changes were made, allowing few to no visitors within the Temple grounds, and the Council retreated into the darkness they had so fought for over a millenia.

She had remembered it all so well. The way her sweat, blood and their own blood mixed with her own had tasted on the tip of her tongue. She was a petite woman, but she was no longer the girl Anakin had trained. No longer the girl that had bright eyes and future to match. She was, without a doubt, a failure, according to the Council, and a very detrimental blow to the credibility of the Jedi.

Funny how they think I was a failure, she smirked, silently chuckling to herself. She could recall the voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi so clearly, even when she was yet a youngling:

"You will never be a Jedi. Your emotions are too strong and you are too old."

The old son-of-a-Sith. How could he ruthlessly take away a girl's dreams and make such an assumption as that? Siv's thoughts continued down this path, as she walked to the bunker that held Leia captive.

"Oh, Princess? Are you there? I have a wonderful suprise for you," she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We're going to see your Daddy and pay him a visit. Perhaps he will pay me handsomely, in return, for your safety."

Leia's deep brown eyes grew large at that thought. She could tell in the woman's voice that every word that was said was filled with hate... and murder. She feared for her life, and those of her mother and brother, but the overriding concern was for her father. Would he actually spare her life in exchange for his own? And would that actually save them? Would Old Ben come to help?

As the shadow from the woman dissappeared from the door, she curled her legs underneath her and did her best to center herself and possibly try to make contact with her father.

Daddy... if you can hear me... please don't come, she thought, through stinging, salty tears. "Just take care of Mommy and Luke. Keep them safe. Do...not...come...for...me.