Some Other Future's Past
Chapter Two
~
Small hands pushed vigorously against Obi-Wan's shoulder, rocking him from sleep.
"Hsst!"
One of the initiates no, he hadn't been at the Temple in weeks
"Hsst! Come on, Obi-Wan! Wake up!" The rocking became more insistent and Obi-Wan grudgingly opened his eyes.
Anakin's pushing changed to a determined pulling as soon as he ascertained Obi-Wan was conscious. "C'mon, there's a big-deal dinner starting soon and you've got bed-head."
Clearing the fog from his brain with a meditation technique, Obi-Wan wondered how long her had slept to be feeling this refreshed. Obi-Wan glanced around the room as he allowed Anakin to pull him upright. It was now full dark and the lights hanging from the branches of the stylized tree were dim.
"What dinner?" The Jedi swung his feet to the floor and allowed himself a bone-popping stretch. "I thought you were supposed to eat hours ago."
The boy was not dressed in his habitual desert-drab colors, but in midnight blue silks that made him quite striking.
"Yeah, so did I." Anakin held up a pair of thermpacks. "Whatever Padmé's doing has the whole palace hustling. I went to the kitchens and got a snack and when I came back in, I heard you snoring."
"I think I've been forgotten about." Obi-Wan ignored the remark about his snoring. "I never even got a chance to speak to Her Majesty, she just plunked me here and ran off."
Anakin grunted as if he knew quite well what the subject was and waved a hand toward one of the corridors. "You can straighten up in my room. There's a clothing press in the 'fresher."
"Thank you, Anakin."
The room, decorated in serene blues and earth tones was filled with the sound of rushing water. Anakin pointed to the 'fresher with a nod and shrug that said 'help yourself.' Obi-Wan simply nodded, went in and shut the door behind him. He had gotten off on the wrong foot with Anakin and had been hopping ever since trying to get back in step.
Since he had no clue when this 'big deal dinner' might be, he settled for running his clothing through a short cleaning cycle and a fast shower for himself. The minor injuries he had sustained in the battle were much relieved by pulsing streams of hot water. Once suitably clean, de-stubbled and fresh of breath he donned his robes and went back out into the room.
Every window facing the falls was open and Anakin sat in one of the window seats, sipping at a steaming mug.
"Timatya soup, there's a mug on the table if you want some." Anakin indicated the thermpacks. "The rolls are really good, too."
Obi-Wan poured himself a mug of the rich red broth and took one of the recommended herb-scented rolls, still warm from the oven. Settling himself across from Anakin on the window seat, he applied himself to the food for a few minutes before looking at his host.
"Thank you, Anakin. With everything that's been going on, I haven't had much time to eat or sleep."
Anakin nodded, never taking his eyes from the falls. "You're welcome."
"I also I wanted to apologize. I said some things that I should have thought about, and I said some things in anger. Master and I were able to mend our rift, but I've managed to open a canyon between us." Obi-Wan set the mug on the windowsill and extended his hand. "I'm sorry. I'd like the chance to do better."
Anakin regarded him with some skepticism. "Do you think I'm dangerous?"
The question was loaded and Obi-Wan too care to frame his response. "I do not think that you yourself are dangerous, Anakin. Nor did my master. I think that your potential in the Force combined with your temper gives you a capacity to become very dangerous. On one hand, you can be very good-natured, but when fear or anger gets a good grip on you, you might act in ways that you would later regret."
Anakin simply watched, sipping at his soup, obviously waiting for more.
"I think that since you were brought up outside the temple, you react in ways that alarm the Council. To them, you are a young wild animal, and they are uncertain if you will bite." Obi-Wan picked up his mug and took a sip before continuing. "It is also my opinion that you are potentially much more dangerous left untrained. There's another Sith out there, somewhere."
"They don't want me, do they?" Anakin whispered.
"No, Anakin, they don't." Obi-Wan laid a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "The Council ordered me to make arrangements to have you returned to Tattooine."
The boy abruptly took a huge gulp of the soup, still hot enough to redden his face and make his eyes water.
"Soup's too hot. I I guess it'll be all right. I'll be glad to see Mom again, I've missed her real bad. And Watto'll have to pay me if he wants anything to work. I can build another pod, Kitster will like that, and I've got a couple of years before I'm too big to race" The words tumbled out at a frantic pace, propelled by fear and misery. Taken away from one life, shut out of another, and about to lose a chance at a third, the boy was lost in events that he could not understand fully, much less control.
"Anakin"
"After that, I can build pods. I've got a tweak worked out for Radon-Ulzers that can boost the power-up by"
"Anakin." Obi-Wan allowed a touch of calming influence to reach the boy and pull him out of the emotional tailspin. "You are not going back to Tattooine. Nobody is going to let them sweep you under the rug, least of all me."
"But"
"My master would never allow it, and I will not allow it in his absence. I also doubt that the Council took into account the feelings of the Naboo, the Gungans, or of the Queen." Using his napkin, he dabbed at the boy's eyes. "Now, this 'big deal dinner,' tell me everything that led up to it."
Anakin related what little he knew, concentrating particularly on Eritaé's actions. The young queen could be very decisive when concerned for those she cared about, Obi-Wan would just have to see to it that the Jedi influence was not lost altogether. He wanted Anakin safely on Naboo and watched over by people who cared for him. Especially since - Obi-Wan thought grimly – he had unfinished business awaiting him on Corucant.
The boy's keen blue-eyed gaze rested on Obi-Wan, now. The Jedi was gratified to feel that Anakin had moved him into the 'Trust Some' column in his mental accounting.
"Anakin, have you ever been to a formal event here?" The boy shook his head, and he continued. "I want you to observe me very closely, just do what I do at the table and you'll be fine. I've been to so many state dinners I could do the ettiquette in my sleep. Now, where's the comm? I should let Queen Amidala know where I got off to"
~
When Obi-Wan and Anakin were escorted into one of less formal dining rooms in the Queen's Palace, it was fairly obvious where Queen Amidala's heart lay in this matter. The young monarch was dressed in the same midnight blue as young Anakin, but with silver embroidery and lace ornamenting the bodice, layered skirt, and tiered sleeves. A less severe mode of the ritual make-up was applied and moonstones were scattered through the braids of her dark hair. The handmaidens were attired in a less ornamented version of the same color, and all the young women exuded a fierce protectiveness and pride.
Of the other quests present, some were familiar. Sio Bibble, the system governor was present, as was Mero Palpatine who had lately been Naboo's senator and was now Chancellor of the Republic. The two men were conversing with a third in gray and blue robes – a round, gentle-looking, moon-faced man - who Obi-Wan remembered from his mission briefing as Kirawe Aspa, Justice-in-Chief of the High Court of Naboo. Captain Panaka and Captain Olié were present in dress uniforms and listening intently to one of the handmaidens as she spoke to a tall, spare woman with striking silver hair. Occasionally one of the men would add something to the conversation, whether in support or opposition Obi-Wan could not tell.
The queen had the makings of a fine stew simmering already, perhaps Obi-Wan might help stir the pot.
Anakin was simply tongue-tied when Amidala smiled at him. Obi-Wan had to give the boy a hard poke with the Force to get him to follow his lead. They managed to bow in perfect Nubian court form, completely in unison.
"At your service, Queen Amidala."
"Be welcome and at peace within the House of Naboo," came the traditional response. "My apologies for leaving you so abruptly, Knight Kenobi." Obi-Wan knew that he – as a Jedi – was on thin ice with the queen. "I am pleased that you and Anakin seem to have had a chance to speak."
"Indeed, Majesty, we have spoken at some length." Obi-Wan smiled slightly at the youngster and was relieved to receive a quick, shy smile in return.
The queen looked to Anakin for confirmation.
"It's okay, Pa ah Your Highness. I know. Obi Jedi Kenobi told me that the Council refused to train me." Anakin sounded calm, but there was still a slight edge to his voice – one that Obi-Wan could fully understand as it was also in his own – but he would have to help the boy find his peace.
"Did he also tell you that Master Jinn has been taken back to Coruscant?" Chancellor Palpatine joined the group. "As he was your legal guardian, young Skywalker, that leaves you as a displaced juvenile. If the Jedi have abdicated their duty as your guardians, then that makes you a ward of the Republic."
"Your pardon, Chancellor, if he was a citizen that might be so. But while the Council has declined to train him, my master has not revoked nor has any authority I am aware of revoked his guardianship." There was something about the man that did not smell quite right to Obi-Wan. Perhaps it was his own life-long disdain for the chicaneries and charades of politics, but "Only his mother can rescind the order, or in the event of her incapacity, the High Court of the Republic itself."
"You are not your master, Padawan Kenobi"
"Knight Kenobi." Anakin spoke up softly.
"Eh?" Palpatine appeared somewhat nettled.
"He was knighted after he killed that Sith, the tattooed man who hurt Master Jinn." Anakin elaborated.
"Ah do forgive me, yes, I should have remembered that. Thank you, lad." The senior statesman patted Anakin gingerly on head. " Please, Knight Kenobi, put my lapse down to the stress of recent events and accept my wholehearted congratulations."
The man's sentiments and smile rang false to Obi-Wan, but he bowed and murmured something innocuous and courteous.
"But all the same, Knight Kenobi, I cannot think that a man of your – pardon me – scarce years knows much about raising younglings. I'm given to understand that most Jedi seldom take a padawan before their middle years?" Again, the not-quite-right smile. "You have some time to go, yet!'
Obi-Wan was now the center of attention, while the Queen stood behind Anakin, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders.
The young Jedi allowed a self-deprecating smile to cross his face. "Well, Chancellor, Jedi my age take turns watching over initiates, but I would not feel confident enough in my own abilities right now to take the responsibilities of a padawan. Until my master is recovered, I am simply taking his place as guardian." Smiling around the room at the Queen and her handmaidens, he commented, "I've all the help I might wish for, here to hand."
The spare, silver haired woman glided up to them and looked Obi-Wan over. If Palpatine made Obi-Wan feel like he was fighting a duel in the dark, this woman made him feel that he had been weighed, measured, turned inside out, studied in intimate detail and put right-side in again. He found himself glad that he had taken the time to launder his socks and smallclothes.
"Your place? Your place is probationary, young man. Anakin Skywalker is within my jurisdiction as Protector of Innocents, and as such he has the same right of self-determination that Naboo extends to every being, refugee or citizen." The woman folded herself down to speak to Anakin. "You are not anyone's property, child, and none may treat you as such. There are those who can help you decide your course, but none may choose that course but you."
"I am afraid, gentlebeings, that I must side with the esteemed Protector Erinaé," Justice Aspa moved with a rolling walk to join the group. "With the young man's legal guardian being incapacitated, the responsibility for Anakin Skywalker falls to the people and institutions of Naboo – not to the Republic, or to the Jedi. Furthermore, as his mother is still alive, the law requires that reasonable effort be made to contact her and to reunite them if they so wish."
Anakin looked like he was about to pass out. He was literally staggered by all of this and Obi-Wan reached out a mental 'hand' to steady him.
"Ani," Amidala spoke now and the youngster looked up at her. "I'm sorry that I dropped all this on you, but I wanted to get this settled now without delay from the courts. Do you want to stay here?"
"More than anything." The statement was simple, with no vehemence or gesticulation, but so strong with the truth that it needed neither.
"Even more than the chance to be a Jedi?" Obi-Wan questioned, even if he knew the answer, it had to be made by Anakin.
"Obi-Wan, I like you and I love Master Jinn, but if you train me you'll get in trouble. I think maybe Master Jinn is in trouble because of me." A frown passed across the boy's features like a cloud momentarily dimming the sun. "You might want me, but the Council doesn't. Even if they changed their minds, I'd always wonder if they accepted me for me, or because"
The words trailed off as Anakin hunted for words to fit the concept, but Obi-Wan understood anyway.
"Anakin, trouble with the Council is something my master considers part of his duty as a Jedi. As his padawan, I feel obliged to carry on the tradition while he is incapacitated."
Not to mention being held against his will
Obi-Wan continued, "I'll stay a while and teach you the basics of meditation, shielding, concentration and such before I have to return to Corucant."
Eyebrows raised around the room, but nobody ventured an opinion. Jedi business was, after all, Jedi business.
Captain Panaka spoke into the silence. "As Handmaiden Yané has pointed out to me, the position of page was often given to younglings who were without other guardians. The provisions were redacted in time of war and have never been annulled. Education, stipends, and trusts are all laid out in the Court Archives."
"There are – regrettably - a wealth of youngsters in my care who would do well with a such a position, Your Majesty." Protector Erinaé bowed to the queen. "There are so many young ones left kinless. With your permission, I will send as many suitable candidates as I can find or the palaces can hold."
"Make it so." Amidala's voice was tinged with a deep sadness even as she smiled and squeezed Anakin's hands in her own.
~
Dinner was a slightly raucous affair. The Justice, the Protector and the Chancellor all pled early engagements and left, promising to be at the Morning Court for the announcements and proclamations. With no dramatically dignified adults to act as ballast, the younger contingent had a rollicking time.
Obi-Wan found himself having as good a time as the youngsters. There were plenty of jokes and songs – some of which skirted the line of propriety – as well as good food and drink. Ric Olié was deep in discussion with Anakin and Panaka at one point concerning fighter engines, but for the most part the evening was devoted light-hearted fun.
The evening wound down with the captains leaving first. Then the handmaidens going off to their beds by ones and twos with a hug and a kiss for Anakin – and usually one for Obi-Wan as well. If Anakin's return hug and kiss for the Queen was a little too familiar, Obi-Wan was willing to overlook it. Padmé needed a friend when she was not being Amidala, and once someone had Anakin Skywalker's loyalty, Obi-Wan had the feeling it was for life.
Finally, he and Anakin stumbled back to Anakin's room. Obi-Wan too the huge, soft bed. Anakin took half the blankets to one of the wide, deep window seats and was asleep almost before the second syllable of 'good night.'
Sometime later, Obi-Wan was awakened by a soft movement of air as the door opened and closed. A slender figure stole across the carpet, finding its way unerringly to the embrasure where Anakin was sleeping.
"Hey, Pad." Obi-Wan could barely hear the whisper over the sound of the falls.
There was something that sounded like a sniffle. "Hey."
"Nightmares again?"
The shadow nodded as another small shadow rose up and wrapped a blanket around it.
"C'mon. I even got extra blankets."
The shadow's answer was a barely muffled sob.
Some time later, all was quiet. Sounds of deep, even breathing spoke for peaceful sleep. Obi-Wan stood and crept over to the window and peered down into a nest of pillows and blankets to see young Padmé in a cocoon of blankets, Anakin wrapped in another and curled up to her back as if protecting her.
~
Padmé awoke to a swirling white fog. The casement window was open and the morning's damp chill made her long to stay here, curled up in the blankets until the sun burned off the mists. It was invariable that she wakened at this hour – some two hours before sunrise – to start her day. The solitude was something that she had come to need, giving her time to order her thoughts and perspective.
She glanced around the darkened room, the downlighting making it fairly easy to see what was where. Since the hurly-burly days after her return to Naboo, she had been spending an inordinate amount of time here. At first, it was to keep an eye on Ani, who seemed equally determined to keep an eye on her. Though she felt very silly about it, she could not shake the feeling that Anakin's safety insured the safety of Naboo.
It was silly. It was even childish. But in the course of her day and her official functions it had become a touchstone. A place of calm inside the aftermath of a nightmare made real.
When the true extent of the Trade Federation's atrocities had been ascertained, Padmé had been horrified.
Men, women and children had been herded wholesale into prefab barracks on plascrete pads. There had been minimal sanitation, substandard food and little to nothing in the way of health care. It had not taken long for the very old, the very young, and the ill to fall victim to opportunistic infections - the infirmaries were still jammed to capacity with them. Those who were injured in battle were dumped into the camps with no treatment and soon succumbed to septicemia, gangrene or the severity of their injuries. Resistance – quite loosely defined by Nute Gunray and his ilk – was met with blaster fire.
Over twenty million Nubians were confirmed dead, nearly one tenth of the population. The numbers for the Gungans were not yet in, but as Jar-Jar had gently said, 'Wesa all got cryin'. Not no one without some pain.'
In her capacity as queen, she had visited the camps and the hospitals. Perhaps the most horrifying stop was the city of Sia, which had lost all of its people to a sterilization bomb when an outbreak of Break-bone fever was discovered. The buildings were all intact, but nothing lived within a ten-kilometer radius of ground zero. Only the paper-dry corpses of her population remained, falling to dust within days and scattering on the summer winds.
Almost as bad had been dealing with the collaborators among her own people. The Trade Federation kept meticulous records, finding the offenders had taken little time at all. Naboo had not imposed capital punishment in thousands of years. As a planet that owed its founding to refugees from many wars, Naboo prided itself on acceptance of differences in politics, religion, race and creed. With the programs in place to help children find their innate abilities, most would-be criminals tended to be caught and treated before they could commit crimes.
Now the people wanted the traitors among them dead. Some had already obliged by committing suicide, but planet-wide there were thousands more. Some had sold their neighbors out for no other reason than some petty slight or material gain. Padmé might feel one way, but Amidala was queen and the law was the law. For most, life in a penal colony deep in the system's asteroid belt would serve, but part of Amidala died with each capital case that appeared on the High Court's dockets.
Then the nightmares had started. In some, the red-and-black tattooed Sith pursued her through the empty halls and plazas. In others, she hugged her mother and father only to have them stiffen, cry out in horrible pain and then fall to dust. In the worst of them, her people came to her, asking why she had not stopped this and why she had not protected them. They wore bloody wounds, signs of starvation, sickness and of death casually dealt.
Sleep became something that she dreaded. One night, after a particularly bad dream of black-cloaked Sith killing Anakin, she had been unable to go back to sleep. Haunted by visions of the boy strangled in his bed, she had pulled on leggings and a tunic and gone to check on him. At first she had walked the night-dim corridors toward the family wing – but she found herself outside Anakin's door, out of breath from running and with sobs hitching in her chest.
The boy had come out the door with a decorative sword taken from the wall in his room, looking to do battle with whatever had frightened her so badly. Once he figured out all that was chasing her was her nightmares, he had been deeply sympathetic. He hadn't laughed at her, or told her to spend some time with a Psy-droid, or even to get a grip. Instead, Anakin let her nearly mash him flat and cry until she felt hollow.
When she awoke, she was actually rested and buried in a pile of pillows and blankets with her small protector guarding her back. There had been no judgement, just concern and care. For some inexplicable reason, this child loved her, and with that love went a loyalty and faith that was almost frightening.
Anakin slept deeply, but roused when she slipped out of the window seat.
"Sleep good?"
"Yes, I did." She arranged the blankets back over him. "See you at breakfast?"
"Mmmhmmph." He rolled over and dropped back into sleep.
Creeping quietly to the door, she was nearly startled out of her skin by the shifting of a figure in the bed than Anakin never used. Padmé had a moment of intense chagrin when she realized that she had forgotten that Obi-Wan Kenobi stayed here last night as well. The nightmare that had driven her here had been particularly intense and all she had been thinking of was getting to a place where she felt safe. The Jedi as a whole did not miss much, and she had a feeling this one missed even less.
Well, if he knew, then he knew. There was nothing to be done about it.
Out in the hallway, instead of turning toward the common room, she went farther into the family wing. At the end of the curving corridor there was a water sculpture consisting of stepping stones in a swirling pool. Leaping back and forth, she danced a sequence on the broad, flat stones – ending with a two-footed stomp on the last one.
A section of the serpentine-tiled wall slid down and she leaped through gracefully into a hidden passage. Naboo's history did not preclude it from having its share of nastiness. The monarchy had not always been elected and those who had fought for and attained power had plenty of reason to be paranoid. The Queen's Palace had been built by Eriamé the Wise – a Queen who had (with plenty of justification) assassinated her own brother and husband.
Erimaé's time had been turbulent and peppered with wars. At the time, what was now the mostly peaceful Mid-Rim was the much like the Outer Rim was now. When she took the Theed plateau, the 'Queen with A Million Enemies' had sat down with her engineer/architect lover and designed a beautiful and ornate puzzle-box of a capitol. The entire center of Nubian government had more secret passages, boltholes and hidden points of entrance and exit than anyone could believe.
Padmé had made it her business to learn them all. This one came out in the back of the Queen's Wardrobe, and made it seems as if she had merely been selecting her dresses for the day.
A sigh escaped her and she shook her head. Except for high occasions of state, it took her less than two hours to get dressed. While the wigs and hairpieces, face-paint, and elaborate robes had their place, it was hard to appreciate while weighed down by them. Morning Court was much less formal than Afternoon or Evening Court. While her clothing and hairstyle would grow increasingly elaborate as the day progressed, at least there were no High Court functions over which she would be required to preside.
Exiting the passageway into the wardrobe rooms, she picked her clothing as she made her way to her chamber. Today she picked bold, assertive colors and rich patterns with historical significance. The coming day would not be easy. Padmé paused, a necklace of gold filigree and pearls in her hand.
The Jedi would not be pleased with her.
Well, fair enough - she was not pleased with them. Setting the necklace back on it's stand, she continued to choose her accessories for the day.
They treated a man the Naboo hailed as a hero as if he were a common criminal, removed the same man from the care of her personal physicians and treated her inquiries as one might the importuning of a toddler. Furthermore, they had prevented her from speaking with Jedi Kenobi or any other member of the Council. Then they had the gall to think that they could take charge of Anakin after they had spurned him twice! None of them had even asked after the child!
She slammed a pair of shoes onto a counter and winced at the bang.
Schooling her temper back into order, she wondered if a visit to a Psy-droid might not be a good idea.
Maybe when she had time.
With Anakin protected, she felt much more at ease. It was Master Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn who had her worried now. There was something wrong with the whole situation, and not just for the rudeness of the Council. Part of her apprehension had surfaced in her nightmare, showing her the Jedi bound by smoke and surrounded by shadows that moved like cloaked figures.
One shadow detached itself from the rest and laid skeletal hands on Qui-Gon and where those hands rested, the man's flesh began to turn to stone. Bit by bit, the shadow's touch made the hale and lively Jedi into a chunk exquisitely sculpted marble. When there was no life or fire left, only blank stone eyes, the cloaked figure ignited a lightsaber with a gleaming ruby blade and began to cut – and the stone bled.
"I have to give them a way home." As Padmé said it, the idea bloomed in her head even as the relieved smile bloomed on her face. Perhaps she could not protect Knight Kenobi and his master, but she could help them even without leaving Naboo.
Morning Court, she thought on her way to her 'fresher, was going to be much more interesting than usual.
~