Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

I'm so sorry to be so very long between updates, but work, family crises, illness and other manifestations of RL have really been working against me lately. I actually had this part written over a month ago, but tore it apart and rewrote it as I was seriously unhappy with it.

I've already started on the next bit, give me a couple of weeks.

In the meantime, I hope that you enjoy, and remember to let me know what you think!

Sincerely,

Chaos

~

Some Other Future's Past

Chapter 13

~

The first part of the operation had gone smoothly. Luuabu had been lounging in her flitter as the contents of the cargo hold were offloaded. One particular container, marked for the healer's wing, had been unloaded and put on a repulsor lift with orders that it be taken to the main infirmary. Anakin, buried under a load of sharp-smelling herbs, tried desperately not to sneeze.

Now he was scurrying from niche to alcove, trying to get his bearings and remain undiscovered. The plans that the matriarch had given him were apparently a little outdated. According to his datapad, he was standing in a garden that serviced the medical wing when in fact he was in a long windowed hallway. If nothing else, he was at least in the proper building. This was a long-term and critical care facility and when he had been able drop his protective measures and 'look' around, he had found Qui-Gon.

It was like a little's game of Warmer/Colder. Anakin would move about the temple in what he thought of as 'sneaky mode,' heading in the direction of the Jedi's presence. From time to time, he would drop his 'sneaky' and look around, then readjust his course.

He was close, very close.

This part of the complex was very quiet, not many beings at all moving around. There was something here that made Anakin deeply uneasy, though. There were feelings of 'not right' and 'bad' and a despair that was like walking through arachnid webs.

Down the corridor, a service droid was coming from the kitchens, pushing a cart filled with meals. It must be dinner time, and that meant that Qui-Gon would be eating. A quick appraisal of the droid told him that this was a plain Treadwell dumbot, simply used for moving things from place to place and serving the needs of large institutions. When it paused in front of the doors that lead in the direction Anakin knew he needed to go, Anakin shot out of his hiding space and across the floor.

The droid never noticed as a human boy opened the waste bin and slipped inside.

~

He knew he was dreaming, but could not muster enough interest in the world outside his head to wake up.

Qui-Gon burrowed more deeply into his pillow and decided that the dream was nice enough that he'd stay a while.

In it, Obi-Wan was bearded, with faded ginger hair grown long enough to wear in a shoulder-length tail. He and his former padawan were in a great hall somewhere, talking as a celebration went on around them. The details were vivid, from Obi-Wan's dark blue uniform and his own unusually ornate robes to the flowing, organic architecture of the room.

Someone called Obi-Wan away, leaving Qui-Gon to watch the dancers swirling about the floor. One couple seemed to be having entirely too much fun. A tall young man dressed in the same style of uniform as Obi-Wan was dancing with a petite brunette, his enthusiasm for the dance occasionally causing her feet to leave the ground. Though he could not see their faces clearly, both were somehow familiar. It was enough to watch them, dancing to some internal joy as well as to the tune.

The brunette was called away, leaving her young swain with open reluctance but kissing the young man hard enough to leave marks. The youngster let her go, then turned to look about the room. Vivid blue eyes in a tanned, strong-jawed face topped with short-shorn dark blond hair made him a handsome cuss, and the lad likely knew it.

Qui-Gon felt a start of recognition – he knew this one! Wracking his mind, he sifted his memories for the name to go with the face. 

Next Qui-Gon knew, the young man was walking up to him, a smile lighting his entire being. A saber swung at one hip and Qui-Gon's mental scuttle became more frantic – he might slip up on a name of an acquaintance, but of a fellow Jedi?

"We didn't forget you, you know." The young man told him. "We're already here."

Qui-Gon was even more confused. "Who are you?"

Reaching out, the blue-eyed man laid on hand on Qui-Gon's cheek.

"Wake up and find out," he said with a smile.

Well, that seemed reasonable enough.

Opening his eyes, he found himself staring into the same blue gaze – only set in a much younger face.

"Anakin?" Another dream? A hallucination?

The Jedi's doubts were banished when he was squashed in an unrestrained, joyous hug.

~

Anakin was overjoyed, and at the same time absolutely terrified.

The robust and joyful Jedi of his memory was faded almost to nonexistence, leaving a thin, pale and obviously ill man in his place. Only the eyes convinced him that this was indeed Qui-Gon Jinn – and what Anakin saw horrified him.

"What did they do to you?" He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Obi-Wan was right, he really needed to work on the tact thing.

Qui-Gon smiled. "What they have done, I did not – nor do I think the Council – ever expected. How, young Anakin, did you manage to get in here?"

"I'm not as concerned about getting in as I am getting out, because you're coming with me." Anakin used his firmest voice. "Obi-Wan is hurt too badly to come after you, and Padmé can't risk what it would mean to Naboo, but I'm taking you with me. You're coming home."

The Jedi merely smiled, "Anakin, I know your determination is true, but I am… not as I was. The consequences of your being caught would be dire, young one. And I am not talking about having Obi-Wan lecture you – there is something very dark afoot, a shadow in the heart of the fire that might be worse than the flames."

Anakin snorted. "Sifo-Dyas. I can handle him. All I have to do is…"

There was a sound in the corridor and faster than thought, Anakin dropped and rolled under the bed just as the door whisked silently aside. A pair of low, brown boots and a swirling hem of a red-brown robe came into his field of vision.

"I had to talk my way past a wall of healers to be permitted to carry your dinner to you, Qui-Gon," a woman's rich, warm voice spoke.

"My thanks, Deepa." The bed above Anakin shifted and the coverings slipped a bit lower, hiding Anakin still further.

The sound of a heat-shield being laid aside was followed by a very bland scent. If this was the food Qui-Gon had been eating, no wonder he was so thin!

"Sifo-Dyas has been before the Council again today, not about you, he had that much sense – but about the faction of Jedi staying in the Embassy of the Naboo," the woman said. "Your Obi-Wan is gathering followers, Sifo-Dyas and his faction blame your 'apostasy' and 'intransigence' for his following. It's the first step in getting you back in his hands, my teacher."

Politics. Always dirty, filthy, bloody politics. Anakin struggled against a surge of rage so virulent that it nearly robbed him of breath.

"If he does, he does, Deepa. If the Force so moves that my death is needed to heal the Jedi or break them apart and reforge them, then it will be."

"You speak as one already gone from us. Master Jedi, some still need your wisdom and guidance, perhaps now more than ever." The voice moved back and forth as if the woman was pacing. "You have allies, Qui-Gon, on the council as well as in the Order, but we are few and increasingly outnumbered by the dogmatic and tradition-bound. Even if those who support you can only agree that we do support you, it is at least one thing we can agree on!"

"Deepa, you've been around the Council and politicians far too long," a rasping chuckle graced the words. "Say what you mean to say, dear child. You can always speak your mind to me."

"We… I…" a deep breath, " feel that you have to get out of here before the Convocation. I'm afraid that it might be easier for some to eulogize a safely dead unorthodox Jedi than to acknowledge a living maverick."

"That may not be possible. I am weak, my friend. I tire simply from bathing or walking across the room, and there are too many watchers who guard not only me, but those who might aid me." The bed shifted again as Qui-Gon added, "They would be in danger, the currents of these intrigues may run deeper than we know."

"But if some were willing to assume the risk? Willingly? After all Qui-Gon, you have always been able to find allies," the voice stopped, seeming to move lower, "Even in the most unlikely of places."

The covers leapt up, and Anakin found himself nose-to-nose with a smiling Deepa Bilaaba.

"Hello, Anakin."

~

Sometimes Padmé wondered why she had chosen a political life.

If one more unctuous fathead with delusions of intelligence spoke to her this evening, she'd happily take a lecture from Obi-Wan and Mace Windu just for the chance to cut the fool off at the knees. Was today the Feast of Idiots?

Still, she kept her polite smile firmly in place, her tones modulated. Master Windu also seemed to be developing a sense of when her temper was fraying – he was ever coming up with someone whom he knew she would be able to engage in conversation without becoming possessed of the desire to scream.

Retreating to a small gallery overlooking a garden, she took a moment to inhale the rich air, heady with the scent of the greenery and night flowers. Her feet hurt from her new slippers, her face hurt from smiling, her head hurt from all various scents of food, drink, fragrance and species – praise be that it would be over soon. Her calendar was clear until Long Night, during which she would attend Palpatine's Inauguration during the morning and afternoon, then the Jedi Convocation in the evening.

Anakin ought to be happy to have her to himself for the day – and she missed him terribly. It was so odd how they had simply fallen in together - one a part of the other while retaining such strong individuality. While very different people, each gave something to the other that had not been there before.

::: Ani? :::  Padmé sent a questing thought out to him and nearly withdrew when she felt his utter absorption in whatever he was doing.

::: Angel? How's the bhash? :::

Padmé's lips twitched even as she scolded Anakin for using that not-nice word. Bhash was a Huttese term that meant several different things – public rump-kissing being one of them. ::: Where are you? At the arcade? I'm sorry to interrupt your game, it must be a good one from the way you're concentrating. :::

::: Padmé, it may be the best game of my life. I've never played anything like it. ::: Her friend's mental tone was exhilarated and she wondered at his enthusiasm. What could be more thrilling than pod racing or flying?

::: I'll leave you to it then, Ani. Maybe I'll even come and join you in a couple of hours. It's the Fortune's Darling, right? :::

There was a long pause, ::: Right. I'll meet you out front when? It's a big place, you'll never find me unless I meet you. :::

Padmé consulted her chrono and her sense of diplomatic timing. ::: Give me an hour to wind things up, another half to say my good-good byes, fifteen minutes to get back, a half an hour to get changed and I'll meet you shortly after. I'll take the airbus. :::

::: Get off at the Siadi Building, I'll meet you at the platform. :::

::: See you then, Demon. You'll have to show me this game, too. :::

~

Deepa Bilaaba waited for Anakin to break communication. The little boy was remarkable in many ways, and she was rapidly revising her estimate of him.

Anakin shook himself slightly as he shrugged off rapport. "We have a problem."

~

Jedi from all over the galaxy were filling the Temple, occupying rooms and floors and wings that had lain disused since the last Convocation. They pumped through the Hall of Convocation like blood through a heart.

From an isolated walkway, Darth Devastuus watched the thronging crowds below in the massive chamber. Yes, much like blood through the heart - but even a healthy heart could live in a dying body, pumping wild cells and toxins that would damage and kill. The healthy heart, wholly innocent, could even send a clot arcing into the brain, to block, rupture and eventually kill the body – in the process ending its own function.

The Jedi were already dead – they lacked only the terminal bleed to finish them off.

As he turned away to go back to his tower room, a particular eddy in the flows of people below caught his eye. A woman led a small boy in a grey coverall and cap through the hall – the boy pulling a laden hoversled and consulting a datapad.

Why would Deepa Bilaaba see personally to the posting of packages? She had an assistant to handle such mundane matters. And why would a messenger be so keen to hide his face?

Irritated, the false Jedi shook the questions off. The Councilor was a Chaclatan and the celebration of that people's New Year demanded the giving of gifts. Messengers and other menials were often taken from the dregs of society – both human and alien. If the common beings were nervous around Jedi, then criminals like the boy were undoubtedly even more so.

Still, there was something not right. A strange anticipation was nibbling at the edges of his certainty. Stalking from the hall, Sifo-Dyas went back to his rooms, there to open himself fully to the Dark side and seek his answers therein.

~

Padmé swung lightly on her toes as the airbus braked to a stop. Letting go of the hanging strap, she made her way to the doors with the rest of the crowd spilling onto the skystation platform. To all appearances, she was just another teen out to spend her allowance. The arcades of Coruscant were some of the most heavily monitored and safest places on the planet. Tourists and the children of the wealthy and connected played without concern here, knowing that the arcade owners were so fond of the cash flowing in their doors that they would spend lavishly to keep it coming in.

It took some time to find Ani, but he had stayed well back of the crowds. When he spotted her, he waved with great enthusiasm. "Hey, Pad!"

Greeting him with their customary hug – Obi-Wan had commented that it didn't matter if they were across the hall or across the world, they still hugged as if it had been a long journey – Padmé smiled as he took her arm.

"Have you been having a good time, Ani?" The question was not really needed, her friend's eyes sparkled like blue diamonds.

Anakin laughed, "Pad, my Angel, I can't even begin to tell you!"

~