Chapter 8: A Chill in Space
Lyyr found it difficult adjusting to space travel; for one thing the constant motion upset her stomach, for another she hated feeling confined. Nothing made her long for the endless stretch of sun and sand on Tatooine like being stuck in a place where she could clearly see the outlines. Then there was the constant chill and Lyyr could not get warm. She could not remember ever being this cold in her life before. If anything she was use to feeling like her skin was about to boil off of her bones. Freezing was a new sensation to her and Lyyr did not like it at all.
Anakin adjusted easily to traveling in space. He enjoyed every minute of it and although the cold bothered him just as much as it did Lyyr, he was able to ignore it. He liked being around all the new people and when he wasn't asking constant questions of whoever would listen, he was busy carving a japor snippet he had found. Lyyr had a shrewd notion who he was thinking of giving the final product too; and it wasn't his sister. Although she may not have spent much time with the girl, barely any really, Lyyr could tell that Anakin was enthralled by Padmé. She could understand his curiosity; the girl lived a life of freedom one that until now she and Ani only dreamed off. Lyyr was equally interested about that arrogant young man but she set it aside. The way he had dismissed the idea of her joining their party and her even quicker rebuff did not encourage the making of friends.
She had other things on her mind, such as sleep. Lyyr wanted so desperately to sleep, having not had much rest in the past few days, but she did not want to fall asleep on the ship. At least, not anywhere she could easily be found. She learned not to be found in a vulnerable position, particularly by men. Lyyr would not appear weak among strangers.
The Queen's handmaidens had offered Lyyr space with them in their area of the ship but she had declined. They unnerved her. Lyyr was not use to giggling, friendly girls but toughed women out to get everything that they could. It did not help that the girls had swarmed her making Lyyr shied away from them like a frightened Jawa. Moreover their immediate desire to include Lyyr in their group confused her. Outside of the few slave families it was very much everyone for themselves.
Lyyr had found herself forced to endure the silly girl's endless chatter far beyond the limits of her patience. Therefore when the Queen summoned her handmaidens the tired and irritated Lyyr took the opportunity to flee. She left that area of the ship and went seeking a place she could hide and have a moment to herself. She wandered aimlessly for a while until she found a small little room that she thought was out of the way enough to suit her. She entered what she thought to be a utility closet and found a corner she could settle into. She pressed her back up against the cool metal of the hill and let herself just slide down until she was in a huddle.
Lyyr pillowed her head on her arms and gave vent to an exhausted sigh. She wanted to fall asleep and tried to but her hard earned instincts kept her awake. She could not be caught sleeping. Besides that, the consistent throbbing in her wounded shoulder was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Sighing in frustration now Lyyr resisted the urge to rip off Qui-Gon's carefully applied bandages and dig at the itchy wound. Instead she hugged her knees closer to her chest and attempted to fall into a light doze.
Some time passed before she became aware of someone calling her name. Lyyr ignored it. Figuring that if she was truly needed whoever was calling her would either find her or eventually give up. Lyyr kept her eyes resolutely closed trying to reclaim the momentary peace of her earlier doze. The voice kept calling her name and as it drew closer she could make out that it was a girl calling for her. Lyyr wanted nothing more to do with the silly handmaidens so she stayed put and stayed silent. Whoever it was, was persistent Lyyr had to give her that much credit.
"Lyyr," the voice called out once again almost on top of her. She slowed her breathing wanting no sound to give away her location. She heard the sound of approaching footsteps pause just outside of her hiding place and knew that she was about to be discovered.
"Oh, there you are Lyyr," the voice exclaimed and its vague familiarity was enough that Lyyr knew who had intruded on her desire to be alone. She could hear Padmé approach her and wished for the girl to leave. "Lyyr are you awake?" The girl asked and Lyyr remained still hoping that a lack of response would discourage her.
"It's Padmé," she announced reaching out to touch Lyyr's arm. Knowing that the charade was up Lyyr lifted her head off her arms before the girl could touch her. Lyyr regarded the girl with open hostility and suspicion; to her credit Padmé met the former slave's gaze with nothing but honest curiosity in her brown eyes.
"I apologize for disturbing you but Qui-Gon was suggested that I check on your wound and he sounded urgent about it." The girl explained with a charming half smile.
"Can the Jedi not keep a secret," Lyyr grumbled to herself. Padmé overheard and chuckled.
"They keep their own secrets," the girl responded sounding equally frustrated by the Jedi. "If you want me to leave I will," she suggested.
"Might as well have a look, you're here now." Lyyr responded not bothering to sound gracious.
"You don't really like people do you?" Padmé asked after quietly regarding Lyyr for a moment.
"I've never been given a reason to like those I do not know and have plenty of reasons to hate some I do know." Lyyr answered honestly enough. She did not bother to be polite for she did not care what the girl thought of her; that wasn't any of her concern. Survival was, however, and if she had to be rude and ornery to survive then so be it.
"Oh," was all the response Padmé had to offer. They observed each other in silence for a while, each taking her measure of the other. Padmé was the first to look away.
"May I," she asked gesturing to the obvious bulge of gauze underneath the left shoulder of Lyyr's tunic. Lyyr nodded her consent. Padmé was unsurprisingly gentle as she removed the gauze and Lyyr clearly heard the girl's astounded gasp at what she found.
"How did this happen?" She asked echoing Qui-Gon's question from the night before. Padmé sounded genuinely outraged and it startled Lyyr. So much so that she gave Padmé a queer look as the girl applied a bacta treatment to her shoulder. As before it puzzled her to see a stranger upset over something she thought of as nothing more than an occupational hazard.
"While earning my keep," Lyyr answered the bitterness oozing out of her. Then she thought better of her bad manners. "It's really not as bad as it looks," she quickly tried to reassure the girl.
Padmé's expression of honest concern pierced Lyyr's heart despite her desire to be unmoved. She really could not afford to care for anyone else. She had just lost Shmi and Anakin would be lost to her as soon as they arrived at Coursant. She needed to have a heart of stone; that has always been her problem. She was too easily tempted to care.
"You're a peculiar person Lyyr," Padmé commented as she bandaged her patient's shoulder. "You pretend to be indifferent but anyone can see you care. You're offended if anyone tries to get close to you and it doesn't seem to bother you that you were treated like scum, like a" – She abruptly stopped her unsolicited evaluation of Lyyr's character midsentence.
"A slave," Lyyr finished for her taking the time to really look at Padmé. "You remind me of a shyster."
"A shyster, what's that?" Padmé asked trying not to look guilty.
"What passes for a politician on Tatooine."
"Lyyr, why did you allow this to happen to you?"
"I had no choice in the matter." Her answer was a copout and she knew it but she did not feel like explaining her real reasons for enduring unnecessary physical harm.
"I don't believe you. Anakin's told me how you would rebel against your owners and how you're the greatest arena fighter in the history of Mos Espa. You had a choice and you decided to do nothing, you could have resisted." Padmé ranted and Lyyr bristled at her accusations.
"Don't talk about what you cannot possibly understand," Lyyr snapped. "Too much rebellion only earned me more blows and if I pushed them too far they would have killed Shmi and Anakin in retribution. If I had been on my own..." She stopped disgusted with herself for letting that slip. She had never told anyone that before; she didn't want anyone else to use her family as leverage against her. It had been bad enough that Gardulla threatened her family's safety daily. It was worse that her own bullheaded foolishness had almost cast the Skywalker's their lives on more than one occasion. Anakin and Shmi never had a clue.
"You love your family, so you took the beatings in order to spare them." Padmé murmured seeing Lyyr in a new light. Lyyr turned her gaze away from the genuine respect in the girl's eyes.
"Yes," she admitted after a moment her voice barely above a whisper. Somehow the young serious handmaiden had managed to circumvent Lyyr's defenses and get her to admit that the Skywalkers were the cornerstone to her life.
Obi-Wan had not expected to be so taken with the mysterious Lyyr; he was literally afire with curiosity. The girl had not said anything else to him or in his presence since the ship left Tatooine. In fact he hadn't seen her sense then either. He understood why Qui-Gon had insisted on bringing the boy with them, and individual with such a high concentration of midi-chlorians could not be ignored. But he had not even the vaguest of notions to explain the girl's presence. If he did not know his master as well as he did, he would have cornered Qui-Gon and demand an answer. But Qui-Gon did not believe in just handing out answers.
Obi-Wan had taken to meandering about the ship hoping he would bump into the girl. Perhaps if he spent some time with her he would come to see what Qui-Gon thought was so important about her. That was a better option than the alternative. If he tried for a straight answer out of the older Jedi all he would get instead would be a lecture about being more observant. Obi-Wan could not stomach another lecture, he was still smarting over the last one he had received and the girl had only said one sentence to him.
He turned down a random hallway no longer paying attention to where he was going anymore. Obi-Wan noticed a faint humming and unconsciously followed it. It took him a moment before he realized the humming was actually the murmuring of two voices. Obi-Wan quieted his steps curious to know who it was he heard. Following the soft echoes of the conversation he came upon the opened doorway to a utility room. He glanced inside to find one of the Queen's handmaidens and the slave girl sitting side by side on the floor of the small space talking quietly and earnestly to each other. He knew he should have announced his presence but some lingering visage of mischief kept him from giving his position away. Afire with curiosity Obi-Wan hovered out of their direct line of sight and listened hungrily to their conversation.
"Anakin is such a sweet boy," he overheard the handmaiden remark, "it seems as if he's been truly unaffected by that awful place."
"It's affected him," the girl countered, "but Shmi and I worked hard to keep the worst of it away from him."
"The worst of it?" The handmaiden asked sounding dubious. "It looked pretty foul to me; you were slaves what could have been worse?"
"Plenty," there was a rebuke in the girl's quick reply. Obi-Wan felt better overhearing her scold someone else. It was petty of him but he liked knowing that he wasn't the only one to offend her. "At least we were allowed to live together as a family."
"I guess that would make things easier, but where was your father in all this?"
"I have no idea, never knew my father or Anakin's."
"You have different fathers?"
"Yes but that's to be expected, Shmi is not really my mother. I was already Gardulla's property when Shmi was won in a bet. She was already pregnant with Anakin then and I took it upon myself to protect her from the backstabbing that is common in a Hutt's palace; especially amongst the slaves. We sort of adopted each other."
"Does Anakin know you are not related?"
"It's possible, he is a perspective boy and neither Shmi nor I ever tried to hide that from him. It is enough that he grew up thinking of me as his sister and I have always considered him my brother. Just as Shmi is the only mother I have ever known."
"How young were you?"
"Young," was the short answer and even out in the hallway he could hear that the girl was tired of talking. He decided to make a strategic retreat before either girl noticed him. He started to step away from the doorway only to be stopped a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Qui-Gon regarding him speculatively – Obi-Wan fought the urge to blush. He had been caught red handed in the act of eavesdropping; an activity that wasn't acceptable in any one over the age of six much less a Jedi.
Without saying anything Qui-Gon indicated that Obi-Wan should follow him back down the hallway. Obediently Obi-Wan followed his master, already wearing a chagrin expression in preparation for the lecture he was sure to receive. Qui-Gon lead them to another secluded spot along the corridor. Once there he turned to observe Obi-Wan for a moment and the young man began to feel like a boy under the strength of Qui-Gon's gaze.
"Did you discover anything interesting?" Qui-Gon asked his voice sounding suspiciously amused. Obi-Wan started to say something to defend his actions but Qui-Gon waved off any explanation he was going to make. "If you are going to eavesdrop, my impetuous padawan, then I suggest you try not to get caught."
Obi-Wan tried to keep his surprise to himself. He was both relieved and disappointed that Qui-Gon refrained from delivering a scathing lecture on proper etiquette.
"Of course Master," Obi-Wan murmured, falling back on protocol in his uncertainty. His response only prompted Qui-Gon to laugh aloud.
"Obi-Wan you still have a lot to learn," he told the younger man clasping him affectionately on the shoulder. He wasn't certain what Qui-Gon was trying to say but he took note of the conversation anyways.
"What do you think of the boy Anakin?" Qui-Gon asked suddenly.
"He's a nice enough boy and I think I understand why you wanted to bring him along," Obi-Wan began only to be interrupted by an impatient hand gesture.
"That's all good but what do you think of him."
"There is something about him…" Obi-Wan answered vaguely unable to articulate what he wanted to say.
"I sense it as well."
"That's why you decided to free him and bring him along," Obi-Wan asked trying to determine Qui-Gon's motives. Qui-Gon did not respond but his silence spoke volumes for him. It had taken years of studying under Qui-Gon before Obi-Wan learned that what the man did not say was just as important as what he did say. Moreover that each of his silences had a different meaning behind them. This particular silence was telling Obi-Wan that he had only restated the obvious. Obi-Wan suddenly began to feel resentful and suppressed those feelings immediately. He had a suspicious feeling that Anakin would be at the center of many problems; right now the boy was slowly driving a wedge between him and his master. A chill of premonition swept over him then but Obi-Wan mistook it for the natural coldness of space.
"Why free the girl then?" Obi-Wan asked sounding sharper than he intended. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow noticing Obi-Wan's tone. The padawan grimaced; apparently he still had to learn about tact.
"She freed herself," Qui-Gon answered off handedly. "Hove you analyzed the second blood sample I sent you this morning?"
"Yes as soon as the transmission came through," Obi-Wan answered puzzled by the sudden change of topic.
"What was the midi-chlorian count?"
"It was high, over eighteen thousand, but not off the charts like the boys." Qui-Gon grunted at Obi-Wan's response and he did not seem surprised that the count was so high. It was almost like he had expected it.
"The second sample was the girl's blood wasn't it? Why did you bring her with us?" Obi-Wan persisted. He sensed that there was something about the girl that Qui-Gon was connected to and he liked that implication even less then the thought of Anakin replacing him.
"She convinced me that it was necessary for her to come," Qui-Gon answered vaguely. Obi-Wan could tell that the older Jedi was distracted.
"She convinced you? Or are you just letting her think that?"
"Perhaps a little of both."
"Master, can you just give me a straight answer?" Obi-Wan blurted frustrated, even though he knew it was pointless.
"Then how will you learn, padawan? I am confident that after thinking about things you will arrive at the answer." With that rather dismissive remark Qui-Gon left Obi-Wan to mull over what just happened.