Chapter 21
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, and all hail Citizenjess for inventing that awesome word 'Naboobies' which I certainly don't want to steal but since I was asked to put it in here, I did and hope I didn't gain anyone's disapproval by that.
oOo
It was night on Naboo. Well, at least on the side of Naboo Theed was on. On the other side, it was midmorning and the sun was shining brightly, with just a few wisps of clouds to occasionally drift through the sky, but that was of no immediate importance to the conversation taking place in the palace between Nute Gunray, the viceroy of the Trade Federation, and Sio Bibble, the governor of Naboo.
"Your Queen is lost, your people are starving, and you, Governor, are going to die much sooner than your people, I'm afraid," Gunray quietly threatened. "I mean, did you recently consult your physician? You look kind of unhealthy, old and rather feeble. Under the circumstances, that is quite understandable, after all you've been under quite a lot of pressure lately, with the invasion and all. If we keep this up, you will probably have had a heart attack by the end of the week."
The Governor huffed, offended. But Nute's concerns for the older man's health were not just imaginary, of which Sio Bibble's loud puffing and his high blood pressure gave evidence.
But despite his recent health issues, the Governor didn't give up. "This invasion will gain you nothing," he insisted. "We're a democracy. The people have decided. And they have decided that they don't like you. Not even you can do anything against the people's opinion; it will be your downfall."
"Uuuuuh, the people's opinion. I'm terrified!" Gunray mocked. "These people will see what good deciding will do them. We will bully them into submission, you will see. And if we have to, we'll even resort to ecoterrorism."
Sio Bibble gasped, first in shock and then in confusion. "Ecoterrorism? What's that?" he asked, befuddlement clear on his face.
"I really have no idea, but my public relations agent advised me to say it, come the opportune moment. Since I don't know when that opportune moment might be I'll just keep on saying it until he tells me otherwise. Besides, it does sound scary, doesn't it?" The viceroy seemed genuinely enthusiastic about this word.
Sio Bibble considered the Neimoidian for a moment. "Well, the bit about terrorism certainly does sound scary. I'm not so sure about the 'eco' part, though."
Now it was Gunray's turn to be offended and huff. "This is outrageous!" With an almost negligent and yet enraged flick of his wrist, he ordered the battle droids: "Take him away!"
As the armed droids led the elderly Governor away, he shouted defiantly: "You have no chance! The people of Naboo will not tolerate this invasion! Granted, we're kind of unable to actually do anything against you right now. But at least empty threats make me feel better, even though it does not take away the tight feeling in my chest and the inexplicable pain in my left arm…"
The Governor's voice faltered and he clutched the front of his elaborate robe just above his heart.
With another disdainful flick of his wrist, Gunray sent a medical droid after the man. After all, he didn't really want to let the Governor die. He was not cruel when he could actually see the results of his decisions, though he had no problem with ordering his droids to march against an army if he didn't have to watch the battle. Qui-Gon's assessment of Neimoidian courage had not been all that far beside the mark, after all.
The viceroy sighed. He hadn't wanted his earlier remark about the human's failing health to turn into a prophecy. Unfortunately, invasions of the kind the Neimoidians were currently flinging at Naboo was often the bellwether of increased mortality among the elder population, as well as among the population in general.
Nute Gunray sighed at the Governor's lack of interest in his own health; then he turned to one of the important droids, which could easily be identified as one of the important ones by its yellow colour.
"My troops are in position to begin searching the swamps for these rumored underwater villages," it said in its expressionless mechanical voice. "They will not stay hidden for long. The floccinaucinihilipilification the people of Naboo harbour for these so-called Gungans is enormous and ubiquitous. According to the databanks I can access, they are even more brainless than my troops," the droid-in-command assessed the situation.
"So they are considered worthless? Why do we go looking for them, then?" the Neimoidian asked no one in particular. He was a bit miffed that the droid would use such weird words without stammering even once and wondered just why it would do such a thing.
Unsurprisingly, no one knew the answer to both the unspoken question and the one asked aloud. The only explanation anyone could think of was that the Gungans were simply an annoyance and a danger to the common mental health and so someone along the chain of command had decided to do something about them.
Nute Guntay chose not to revoke this order.
He also chose to officially rebuke the creator of the droid's linguistic program as soon as he got the chance.
oOo
"Wow, wizard!" Anakin exclaimed for the hundredth time. They were in the engine room and Anakin had just spotted the hyperdrive. "That looks just like the hyperdrive in Watto's backyard. I used to polish it when I wasn't busy cleaning fans. Oh, by the way, I think you have quite the fan club, too. I bet you didn't know that! I've met a lot of them, back in Watto's shop. It was on the "Star Wars" tour, on which locals guided tourists around Tatooine, showing them all the important places, like the Lars' moisture farm, a small house somewhere in the Jundland wastes that apparently belongs to someone called Ben and of course the pod racetrack and Watto's shop. That was their last stop before lunch, and lots of them were covered in dust and sand by then. And I cleaned them for a small fee," Anakin happily prattled on.
Obi-Wan admitted with a somewhat embarrassed laugh: "I don't think I would have to leave this ship to find a fan club. I'm rather afraid that by one way or another, I have acquired a rather ardent um… fellowship of my own which mainly consists of the assorted handmaidens." He shrugged. "I haven't found a way to get rid of them yet, though switching the braid to the other side of my head seemed to work surprisingly well."
Anakin stretched out his hand and tugged at the braid dangling at the side of Obi-Wan's head.
"Is this your own hair?" he asked.
"Ow!" Obi-Wan complained. "Yes, that is my own hair, so I'd be really grateful if you didn't do that anymore."
"Oh, sorry," Anakin said, sounding more intrigued than remorseful. "What's it for, anyway?"
"It's a symbol for my apprenticeship," Obi-Wan patiently explained.
Before he could further elaborate, though, Anakin interrupted him: "Wow, you got your own ship? Can I get one, too? Why would you need a braid as a symbol for that?"
"It's not a real spaceship, not the way you imagine," Obi-Wan informed him with laughter in his voice. "That means I'm an apprentice, a Padawan learner."
Anakin remained silent, but his face clearly spelled: "What kind of stupid useless ship is that? I bet you can't even fly with it."
oOo
After spending the whole afternoon in the engine room, Anakin was exhausted. He had asked Obi-Wan all the questions he could think of and then a few more, and he had gotten more answers than he could possibly cope with, let alone understand.
"Can we-" Anakin yawned widely. "Can we go and have some dinner? I'm famished!"
"Of course we can," Obi-Wan promised. "And I think Master Qui-Gon should be finished by now, so how about we meet him for dinner?" he suggested.
Anakin replied with a shrill "Yippie!" He was obviously very fond of Qui-Gon, whom he had secretly dubbed his "latest daddy".
They found the Jedi Master in his room, sitting on his bunk (due to the lack of other furniture fit for sitting on) and combing his hair so that it shone silkily. His deep voice could be heard humming contentedly and he seemed relaxed and generally in a good mood now that his hair (including the facial one) was back to its natural glossy luster.
When Obi-Wan audibly cleared his throat to catch Qui-Gon's attention, his Master looked up at his current and his future Padawan standing in the door.
"So what have you two been up to?" he asked with a cheerful twinkle in his eyes. A whole afternoon without anyone to interrupt his well-earned recreational time was just what he had needed. He had spent it washing his hair at least twice, applying three different conditioners which he had "borrowed" from Padmé, Sabé and Gertrudé and meditating on every aspect of the Living Force he could think of as well as on his most favourite mottos and ways to finally convince the Council to include them in the Jedi Code.
Now he was ready to face an evening with a hyperactive boy who could babble and ask questions non-stop, seemingly without needing to breath, and his apprentice, who probably didn't want to hear about his strategies to convince the Council of the existence of the proverbial bigger fish. He was quite the inveterate maverick Master when it came to pestering them with irrelevant superfluities to add to the Code.
Anakin didn't need any more prompting than Qui-Gon's rather unanimously phrased question to relate an enthusiastic account of this afternoon's events which effectively bridged the time they needed to walk from their room to the eatery.
"… and then I dismantled the shield generator-" "WHAT?" Qui-Gon interjected – "yes, that, to look what's inside, but don't worry, we put it back together. Well, mostly, I pulled it apart and Obi-Wan put it back together, but it's back in good working order now."
Anakin finished his tale and looked up expectantly at Qui-Gon, who distractedly ruffled his hair.
"I see, so you've had a busy afternoon. Now let's get you something to eat and then it's time for little Padawans to go to bed." Qui-Gon merrily said.
That remark elicited an instant protest from Obi-Wan. "Though I might not be as freakishly tall as you, oh gigantic Master of mine, the times that I could be described as 'little' are long past, as are the times when you could send me off to bed at nine o'clock in the evening. And besides, aren't you the one who usually tells me to focus on the here and now and that possibilities are distractions until they happen, or must I really remind you that Anakin is not a Padawan yet? No offence, Anakin."
Qui-Gon completely failed to take the hint, though he couldn't help but notice the strange mixture of mischief, nostalgia and sadness in Obi-Wan's eyes. He really could be quite dense sometimes when it came to anyone in his charge.
Anakin didn't take offence. After all, Obi-Wan had said "yet".
oOo
Some time later, they all sat down around a table in the dining hall.
Anakin took a look at the food for dinner. He helped himself to a generous serving of anything in his reach and asked Qui-Gon for the things that were in the back where he couldn't get them. He was curious about all the food they served on this ship. His mother had certainly not been a bad cook, but she used to prepare mostly grey gruel because she said that this was the only meal that matched the colour of their walls.
So now he was fascinated by all the green and yellow and red and pink and altogether colourful rations, and if Obi-Wan could be believed (which Anakin highly doubted because he couldn't imagine anything tastier than this artificial egg powder stuff that had to be stirred in water) even the food in the Jedi refectory was better, and according to Qui-Gon that was still nothing compared to Obi-Wan's cooking skills, but of course the Padawan immediately denied that vigorously and instead praised his Master's culinary expertise.
Anakin thought this highly unlikely because if you learned one thing on Tatooine, then it was that men were either dirty and scruffy and sexist and callous and inveterate criminals or moisture farmers, but no matter whether they belonged or the former or the latter, they definitely could not cook.
As his mouth was stuffed with food, though, he didn't object and elaborate on his preconceptions.
When he was about to shovel a massive amount of the green stuff into his still half-full mouth, Obi-Wan cautioned him: "Careful, that's fairly piquant."
Qui-Gon thought that when it came to understatements, his Padawan was as prone to exaggerated use as with stating the obvious.
"I know," Anakin munched absently before popping a whole spoonful of it into his mouth. He had never been good at identifying sarcasm or understatements.
Only two seconds later, he ran around the table practically breathing fire. "IT'S HOT!" he screamed. "HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT!"
He raced around the room screaming at the top of his voice until Obi-Wan caught him, pressed a glass of blue milk into his hand and told him to "drink this".
Anakin drank and after he had quaffed down half the glass, he felt the burning in his throat subside.
Anakin crossed his arms and glared accusingly up at the two Jedi. "Why didn't you warn me? It's hot! And I don't mean hot hot, I mean spicy hot. It burns in my weasand." He tapped his foot cantankerously, waiting for an answer.
"But I did warn you," Obi-Wan objected. "I told you it was hot. That's Wasabi, it's made from Japanese horse radish," he added, rather unnecessarily, as Qui-Gon thought.
"No you didn't," Anakin insisted. "You used one of these strange words nobody understands."
"Says the boy who uses words like weasand instead of throat. Still, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan apologized. "I know I sometimes tend to use unnecessarily complicated words, but I didn't think it was that bad."
Qui-Gon and Anakin shared an exasperated glance before they turned to the Padawan and simultaneously stated: "It is that bad."
Since the expression on Obi-Wan's face was one of puzzlement and he seemed a bit taken aback by this revelation, Qui-Gon decided to help him recognize his problem.
"Padawan," he sombrely said, "what is a galactophagist?"
The apprentice looked even more bewildered, but he dutifully explained: "The second part of the word has its origins in the Greek word 'phagein' which roughly translates as 'to eat' or 'to eat up'. It is hardly ever used any more. The only example that comes to mind is in the word 'macrophage' which is a large cell found in the blood and tissue. They are a part of the innate immune system and their job is to remove pathogens and infected cells by enclosing and digesting them. This process looks like the macrophage eats them, hence the name."
Obi-Wan paused for a moment to gauge Qui-Gon's and Anakin's reaction. Anakin's face was completely blank, though that was presumably due to his complete and utter non-comprehension, and Qui-Gon sported an unreadable mask instead of his face. Hesitantly and not sure whether his audience was still following his explanations, he continued: "The first part could either be derived from 'galaxy' or 'galactose', which is a kind of sugar that may be found in milk, for example, but also bound to glycosylated proteins. So you get to choose between something which eats up galaxies and something which digests galactose, though the latter seems much more likely. It's infinitely easier to ingest a small molecule than a whole galaxy, after all," Obi-Wan finally finished. "So since Anakin has just drunk a whole glass of milk, it could be said that even he is a galactophagist."
Qui-Gon snapped Anakin out of the stupor he had drifted off to during Obi-Wan's little speech. "See what I mean?" he asked. "You completely managed to hypnotize poor Anakin here just by talking."
Anakin was still gaping open-mouthed at the Padawan. "Antidesestablishmentarianism," he suddenly said.
Now it was Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's turn to gape.
"What was that?" Qui-Gon asked, while Obi-Wan wondered just where a small slave boy might have picked up such a strange word.
"Antidesestablishmentarianism," Anakin repeated. "I've always wondered what it means. I picked it up one day in the cantina… I think. Can you explain it to me?"
Qui-Gon had to stifle a groan as Obi-Wan set out to analyze this new word for him.
oOo
Anakin snuggled tightly into the comfortably warm robe Obi-Wan had given him in lieu of a blanket. The two Jedi had just left him in his not-quite-a-bed after getting him settled in this not-quite-a-bedroom and wishing him a good night. Anakin had a lot to think about.
Jar Jar was already slumped in a chair, snoring softly. The Gungan had come in earlier during their discussion and had immediately knocked out by all the complicated words darting through the room. He had been squarely hit by the 'Zeigarnik-effect' Qui-Gon had heatedly discussed with his Padawan and that had completely overloaded Jar Jar's flimsy nervous system.
Anakin's mind had also been grazed by the word, but he had managed to defeat it by understanding that it described the phenomenon that people tend to remember unfinished rather than completed stories, and that this was precisely the reason why every single soap-opera always gets adjourned just when the tension is about to peak.
He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. It had been a really interesting afternoon, and so far he didn't regret leaving Tatooine at all.
When Anakin heard the soft whirring of the elevator, his eyes snapped open again. He didn't know how but he knew that it was Padmé in that elevator. He really liked her. He was only nine years old, which was an age when normal boys still considered girls 'yucky' or 'disgusting' and yet…
Anakin let his gaze wander around the room. He was looking for something with which he could gain Padmé's attention. Maybe if he looked like he needed something? But what could he need that would be immediately obvious to anyone looking at him? A nice hot cup of milk with honey would be a good excuse to talk to Padmé, but Anakin didn't think that he could make the lack of warm milk visible on his face.
Hmmmm… I already have a bed, I already have a pillow and Qui-Gon's robe for a blanket… but that can be changed easily!
Anakin quickly stuffed the wide robe behind the couch. He didn't want Padmé to think he was well looked after or he feared that she wouldn't take pity on him and come to take care of him.
Padmé had been really nice to him so far. Of course Qui-Gon and Jar Jar and R2-D2 and Obi-Wan had been kind, too, but that was not the same because they were neither as hot nor as female as Padmé.
Anakin thought of the cheap souvenir one of the fans had given him as a tip one day. It was merchandise from a movie called 'Planet Battle' or something like that. The fan had told him that in the movie, it was a present from a young boy to his one true love, whom he indirectly killed when he was an adult in a later episode. Anakin had always thought this was a rather stupid thing to do, but since he had no other use for the pendant, maybe if he gave it to Padmé, he could gain her affection and her consent to his indirectly killing her when he was an adult in a later episode, because rumour has it that that's what husbands enjoy doing to their wives, though he had a slight suspicion that he had gotten that wrong somehow and still considered it a stupid idea.
Anakin's ruminations were effectively terminated by Padmé, as were all his thoughts. Anakin could only stare at her, fascinated by the way her gown seemed to be red and orange and yellow all at once, and no matter how much Anakin strained his eyes, he couldn't find the transition between the different colours and that was simply too much for his brain which was inexperienced in all matters concerning fashion. So he continued to stare at Padmé as she entered the room and walked over to the comm. station, struggling and failing to figure out her gown.
Padmé pressed a few random buttons. Sabé had informed her that someone had called during her absence, and now she hoped to find a message from Bail on the answering machine. She really missed the thirty-three calls a day she usually made to Alderaan.
She was sorely disappointed, though, when after a loud beeeep she spotted the transparent blue hologram of Sio Bibble, Naboo's governor, instead of the handsome features of the Alderaanian Price. "You have one new message," a tinny voice announced.
"Hello?" the holographic image of the nervous politician whispered urgently. "Anyone there? If anyone hears this, would you please answer the call? Oh, I hate these answering machines! Anyway, I called because the Neimoidians forced me so they can pinpoint your location in case you answer."
Padmé impatiently fast-forwarded to the important bits. She was familiar enough with her governor's lengthy way of talking to know that he wouldn't arrive there for at least five minutes.
After some time she pressed the play-button again and listened to the remainder of the message: "They found the royal wardrobe. It's a disaster! These slimy Neimoidians are ravaging all of your clothes!"
A loud gasp of outrage escaped Padmé's lips. Her clothes! Why did it have to be her clothes?
The governor continued remorselessly: "They are actually trying them on. They completely stretched that lovely pink one to a shape that would fit one of their kind, but never a gorgeous young woman as your Highness! The purple dress you wore for the party on Alderaan has a tear, and they stepped on the hem of the silvery one you got for your birthday, completely ruining it. And you don't even want to know what they did to your favourite white robe that matches Your Highness' complexion so well. And not only that! They also ruin any shoes and stilettos and pumps and delicate sandals they can find! You won't have a matching pair of shoes for any dresses that might survive this tragedy. It's horrible to watch them kill all these pretty dresses. The death toll is catastrophic. We must bow to their wishes. You must contact me!" he insisted.
Padmé was devastated. All her favourite clothes! She had continually worked up her temper during Sio Bibble's report and now felt ready to stomp her foot until it grew numb and rage against anyone her anger-filled brain could think of when she spotted Anakin sitting in a corner, staring at her.
She reigned in her temper. She didn't want to scare the poor boy with one of her famous tantrums which would invariably end in someone losing his or her head. That's how they frequently ended because at the height of her anger she always screamed to behead whoever was unfortunate enough to attract her attention, and she was afraid that in attracting her attention, no-one could outdo Obi-Wan. And separating that handsome head from the equally handsome rest of the Padawan's body was something she definitely wanted to avoid.
Padmé took another look at Anakin. How he sat there huddled in the corner, staring at her with wide, sad eyes and fiddling with something roused Padmé's emerging maternal instincts.
"You all right?" she asked, her voice touched with concern for the poor boy. She felt it was partly her fault that the boy was now homeless. Then she remembered that Qui-Gon had chosen their path and she had been so busy following that she hadn't managed to do much besides trying to keep up with the Jedi Master.
"It's very cold," Anakin quietly said. He did his best to appear as pathetic as possible because he wanted Padmé to take care of him.
The Queen aka handmaiden grabbed a red blanked and spread it over Anakin.
"You come from a warm planet, Ani," she said as if that weren't obvious from their previous stay on Tatooine. "A little too warm for my taste. Space is cold because of all that vacuum and stuff," she informed him as she tightly tucked the blanked around Anakin to keep him warm.
"You seem sad," Anakin observed, looking extremely sad himself.
"I am… erm, I mean, the Queen is worried. Her people are suffering, dying. And all my favourite clothes are being destroyed by the Trade Federation. She must convince the Senate to intervene or… I'm not sure what will happen. I won't ever be able to wear my favourite frilly dress again, and the pink one with the laces is probably all but soiled beyond repair."
Padmé sighed dolefully. She seemed very miserable at the prospect of losing her wardrobe, so much so in fact that Anakin thought that he had gotten the better bargain because he was not nearly as unhappy as Padmé was. From that observation, Anakin concluded that clothes must really be something wonderful and Padmé must love them more than her mother since their loss seemed to affect her more than Anakin was affected by the loss of his mother.
Now seemed to be the perfect time to cheer Padmé up with the little gift he wanted to give her.
"I made this for you so you'd remember me," Anakin said as he pressed the little trinket in Padmé's hand. Of course he had not made it himself, but he was not about to tell Padmé that. He thought it sounded rather lame to give her something that looked so cheap if he couldn't claim to have made it himself. "I carved it out of a japor snippet. I'll bring you good fortune. It's also a love charm so you'll marry me once we're of legal age. Oh no, please tell me I didn't say that out loud," Anakin's voice trailed off in a mortified whisper.
Padmé gave Anakin a smile that made his heart melt instantly. "It's… um, beautiful," she softly said, grateful that her diplomatic training had kicked in so quickly. The trinket looked rather less dazzling than the jewellery she usually wore, but when she looked into Anakin's huge puppy-eyed stare she accepted it and put it around her neck.
Awww, that is sooo sweet of you, Padmé thought.
"But I don't need this to remember you by. I'm not that old yet, and my memory is generally in a good condition. I usually remember people I've met, and I spent the last four days in your company, so it is rather improbable that I should forget you in the near future. Still, I shall wear this because you are such a little sweetie," she finished with another of her heart-stopping smiles.
"Many things will change when we reach the capital, Ani, but my caring for you will remain."
Anakin was elated by these last few words. Padmé cared for him! It was not the confession of love Anakin had hoped for and so he couldn't answer with the 'I love you, too' that he wanted to say. So he said instead: "I care for you, too, only I-"
Before Anakin could complete his sentence about how he cared for Padmé more than just a friend, she finished it for him: "You miss your mother."
Glad that he hadn't spilled his secret adoration for the young woman yet again, Anakin gave a tiny nod. Besides, he truly did miss his mother.
Soon after, Padmé wished Anakin goodnight and left, presumably to find Obi-Wan. She had that scary and resolute glint in her eyes as she headed for the door that Anakin had learned to associate with Padmé thinking of the Padawan. Anakin was glad that she didn't have that expression on her face when she thought of him. He didn't know what it was, but it truly scared him. He really wouldn't want to switch places with Obi-Wan right now.
Anakin settled back into the blanket Padmé had given him. After about five minutes of tossing and turning, though, he discarded the blanket and retrieved the robe from under the sleepcouch. Snuggling into it, he was asleep only seconds later even though he had thought that he was much too excited after Padmé's short visit to sleep ever again.
oOo
Padmé was getting changed into her royal attire. It was about time that she resumed her duty as Queen. Besides, the Jedi could not refuse a summons if it was issued with the Queen's authority. While she was getting ready, she sent for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, officially to discuss the outcome of the mission, but in truth she had her very own motives.
When she was finally done with all the clothes and the thick layer of make-up that was mandatory for the role of the Queen, she entered the room that served as makeshift throne room. The Jedi were already waiting for her, standing in a corner of the room, talking softly. When she entered, they immediately turned around and bowed politely. She acknowledged them with a rather – in her opinion - regal inclination of her head.
She scuttled towards the throne with tiny steps – anything else was not possible with the cumbersome dress she was wearing.
Padmé sat down stiffly and cleared her throat.
"Master Jedi, what are your plans once we arrive on Coruscant? How will we proceed?"
With another slight bow, Qui-Gon informed her that he didn't have any plans because he hadn't given much thought to the matter. He was too much preoccupied with living in the here and now. So the Queen fixed her questioning (and just the tiniest bit longing) gaze on the Padawan. Obi-Wan informed her that they would meet with the Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum and Naboo's representative in the senate, Senator Palpatine. Obi-Wan also told her that the Jedi could not help her with the politicians and that, being a politician herself, she would have to deal with them only with the help of her creepy Senator.
The Queen didn't take this news well.
"You cannot be serious. Naboo needs all the help it can get. The situation is grievous."
For some inexplicable reason, Obi-Wan felt like it was his duty to deal with anything grievous.
"We will of course help you in any way we can to save the people of Naboo, but we cannot exceed our mandate," Obi-Wan said. "I'm sorry that we can't offer you further help without the consent of the Jedi Council."
The Padawan seemed truly regretful that he couldn't do more, but Padmé didn't appear appeased at all.
"How can you be so uncaring!" the Queen said in her emotionless and flat voice, which gave a strange atmosphere to her accusation. "Naboo is in great peril, my people are suffering and dying and my wardrobe is getting defiled. Please help my people! Please save my Naboobies!"
Obi-Wan almost choked as the Queen and the entire army of handmaidens that was positioned behind her gave him a staggeringly licentious leer that looked even more shocking on their barely adolescent faces. Instantly, the affable and sympathetic expression was wiped from the Padawan's face and replaced by one of pure shock. For a moment his jaw threatened to drop before Obi-Wan's stunned brain took hold of it again. He gulped down a confused response to the brazen invitation and took an involuntary step back.
Obi-Wan sent his Master a helpless look that begged for some help, but Qui-Gon was completely oblivious to the shameless flirting going on right in front of him.
Obi-Wan was immensely relieved when Qui-Gon took a step forward, but that feeling was short-lived as his Master reprieved him instead of helping him: "Of course we will do anything to help you and your people, your Highness," Qui-Gon reassured her. "And I'm sure my Padawan will take good care of your Naboobies once the Council has heard of your circumstances and approved of the further course of action."
Padmé`s face showed utter bliss at Qui-Gon's words, Obi-Wan's face showed utter horror. The horror-struck Padawan alternately blanched a unhealthy white and blushed a furious scarlet as if he couldn't decide whether he was appalled at the notion of 'taking good care' of the 'Naboobies' of someone who was ten years younger than him and could scarcely be called a teenager at that or more embarrassed at the fact that his Master so blatantly misunderstood the insinuations and practically gave the girls permission to keep up their barefaced persecution of the dumbstruck Padawan.
Obi-Wan decided to cast politeness and diplomacy to the winds and as soon as he had found his voice again he quickly excused himself before the Queen or one of her handmaidens could say another word. He practically fled from the throne room, followed by Qui-Gon, who was confused as to the reason for his Padawan's hasty escape. He had never seen Obi-Wan run away from anything. Usually his apprentice faced even the most hostile and frightening situations with unflappable calm and not a trace of dread, and the only thing that got to him were these ominous bad feelings of his. So why was he running away from a bunch of perfectly ordinary girls?
When the Jedi Master asked as much, Obi-Wan first sat down only to immediately stand up again and pace up and down the hallway. He was clearly upset, and he couldn't quite hide his trembling hands.
"Master-" Obi-Wan began, but he took a few calming breaths before trying again: "Master, the Queen asked me to save her Naboobies!"
"Which is a perfectly understandable thing to ask, Padawan," Qui-Gon sternly admonished. "The Queen is worried for the welfare of her people, and we really shouldn't deny her the help she asks from us. I know you as a generally compassionate and caring person, Obi-Wan, although I know that people who don't know you as well as I do don't see it as clearly. So why are you so horrified by the prospect of helping the people of Naboo?" Qui-Gon was genuinely puzzled by his Padawan's reaction.
But the flustered apprentice could only repeat, more forcefully this time: "The Queen asked me to save her Naboobies!" He seemed genuinely distressed by his Master's lack of understanding.
When Qui-Gon's expression told Obi-Wan that his Master hadn't understood what the young man was too embarrassed to say out loud, he mumbled a quiet excuse and quickly left for the cockpit, his haven of safety from the predatory girls. He was even willing to sleep in the cockpit or if need be not sleep at all if he could just avoid another of these awkward encounters.
Obi-Wan was thankful that they would arrive on Coruscant in just under 14 hours, and true to his intentions he spent the remaining time in the cockpit. As they approached the planet-wide city (or depending on your point of view the city-wide planet) Anakin joined him in the cockpit.
"Good morning, everyone!" the boy cheerily greeted the pilots and Obi-Wan.
"Good morning!" came the reply from every corner of the cockpit.
As Anakin peered out the front window, he was rendered speechless by the spectacular view of a whole planet ablaze in artificial lighting and covered in tall buildings. The boy, who had so far only seen the shabby and squatting buildings of Tatooine, was full of wonder for the incredible sight that unfolded before him.
An awed whisper of "Wizard!" could be heard from the boy who was suspiciously quiet otherwise.
Ric Olié, the pilot on duty, elaborated the sight before them. "Coruscant. The entire planet is one big city. There's Chancellor Valorum's shuttle. And look over there, Senator Palpatine is waiting for us," he commented as they circled around the landing platform.
Somewhere off to the side, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Obi-Wan's mumbled an unfavourable remark about the less admirable traits of politicians.
And really, Anakin could spot several people who looked quite important with their stiff robes and formal attire.
In the middle of the platform stood a lone man whose robe looked just as stiff and formal as the other ones, but he seemed to be less aloof than the rest of the politicians because he was heatedly talking to someone on his comm.
Their ship touched down on the landing pad and the Jedi, closely followed by Anakin, Jar Jar, Captain Panaka, the Queen and the inevitable handmaidens got off the space shuttle and walked towards the delegation of politicians.
The Chancellor and his entourage were awaiting the arrival of Queen Amidala, Senator Palpatine was still on the comm, talking animatedly with his assistant.
"Where is my order of Chinese food? I expressly told the restaurant to deliver it to this particular lading platform I'm standing on and I expected them two minutes ago. Where are they? Would you please take care of that?"
"Of course, Senator," the aide sighed. This was not what she had thought her job would entail. This was not what she had studied politics for. "What exactly did you order, sir?" The assistant just hoped that the old fool could at least remember what he wanted.
"Yes," Palpatine said much to her relieve, "I wanted order 66 today. What was that again?" he asked his aide who had the menu in front of her.
"That's fried Che-Dai served with steamed vegetables and liquefied rice, sir," the assistant informed him, feeling more than a bit bored with her job and discontent with her life in general. She really should get a new job, one where she wouldn't have to do such tedious tasks like running after the Senator's lunch.
Palpatine seemed extremely pleased. "Ah, perfect. Fried Jedi is my favourite."
The aide sighed. "It's fried Che-Dai, not Jedi," she repeated, wondering just what her boss was thinking.
"Yes, I want that," By now, Palpatine seemed indignant and sharply told his assistant to fix the problem with his lunch immediately. "Execute Order 66 immediately," he heatedly instructed his stressed-out assistant before cutting off the transmission.
As the Jedi approached the waiting politicians, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were communicating through the bond.
Master, I've got that bad feeling again. See that Senator there, the one with the slightly wavy greying hair and the hooked nose? He gives me the creeps. After a short pause, Obi-Wan added: What's wrong with me? That's more than just my usual dislike of politicians.
I don't sense anything, was Qui-Gon's answer, though he had already shown at the beginning that that didn't have to mean anything.
Obi-Wan was really unsettled by this Senator. For once, he couldn't help but fervently wish for one of Qui-Gon's famous bigger fish to devour this particular politician even more than the average politician, be it a literal bigger fish that swallowed the Senator during his next fishing holiday on Naboo or a metaphorical bigger fish in the shape of a nasty scandal or another politician who replaced him in his position. Even at the danger of being repetitive, Obi-Wan had a very bad feeling about this.
As they drew near, Obi-Wan caught the last bit of Palpatine's comm call.
"Execute order 66 immediately."
Suddenly, Obi-Wan got the feeling that he should leave.
Now.
Before he found the time to think about the sudden sense of betrayal from someone he trusted and who that someone was because he was certain he didn't know anyone called Cody and why he felt like he should be falling down from a great height, the strange feeling had already made him jump right off the landing platform in a mighty leap. For a second he wondered how Boga was doing and whether she had survived the explosion before he remembered that he didn't know anyone called Boga, either. Well, at least he had his lightsaber back… but it had never been gone as far as he could remember, so he corrected himself and was glad that he still had it.
A few meters further down, though, he finally started to doubt his current sanity. What was he doing jumping off the landing pad? Immediately, he started looking around for a way to stop his fall (strangely enough, he had expected a deep pool of water to do that for him) and then to get back up there as fast as possible.
On the landing platform, everyone stared in open-mouthed astonishment at the place where Obi-Wan had just vanished from.
Peering over the edge and watching the Padawan disappear in Coruscant's gloomy lower levels, Anakin whispered: "Did you see what I just saw? I mean, did Obi-Wan really just jump off the platform?"
Qui-Gon stood next to him, a frown on his face, his arms crossed and shook his head disapprovingly. "I hate it when he does that," he stated with just a tiny bit of exasperation.
Padmé and her entourage stood there, shell-shocked, unable to say anything or even form a coherent thought. The Chancellor didn't seem to fare much better.
Only Senator Palpatine seemed not only unperturbed but essentially amused and delighted by this unexpected turn of events.
"Was that your Padawan?" he walked up to stand next to Qui-Gon and look where Obi-Wan had disappeared. "Shame, really. I didn't know Jedi were suicidal," he added with a jovial smirk.
Palpatine had no idea just how he had done that, but he was pretty sure that the premature death of this particular Jedi would spare him lots of trouble in the future. The conceited Sith Lord in him whispered that his dark aura had probably scared the poor pathetic apprentice to death. Not that he cared, though. From what he had seen during the half-second his attention had been on the Padawan, Palpatine had already deduced that this Jedi was useless to him. With the way his Force-signature practically flaunted that much of the sickening goodness and integrity and light, turning him to the Dark Side was probably not worth the trouble, never mind that the more rational part of his mind whispered that he'd have a really tough time of it with the young Jedi if he tried.
After about a minute of hushed perplexity, animated discussions broke out all over the platform. The only thing that could stop the loud chattering was the sudden and (by some) unexpected reappearance of Obi-Wan. He jumped from a speeder which was rushing by.
The stares that greeted him were for the most part disbelieving, but his Master fixed him with a stern glare.
"Padawan, that was uncalled for."
"I'm sorry, Master," Obi-Wan apologized. Since he couldn't explain his strange behaviour himself, he didn't even try to explain it to anyone else. Obi-Wan decided to meditate on it later, and maybe talk to Master Yoda about it.
They returned to business without further ado. The Jedi bowed deeply to the Chancellor, Anakin and Jar Jar imitated them a second later. After the formal greeting, they stepped aside to let Queen Amidala through.
"It is a great gift to see you live, Your Majesty," Palpatine smoothly greeted her. "The same isn't true for you, though," he mumbled under his breath towards the Jedi.
Then he continued as if nothing has happened, which was one of the talents vital for any politician. "With the communications breakdown, we've been very concerned. I'm anxious to hear you report on the situation."
Qui-Gon let go of Anakin's shoulders. He had tried to take away the boy's unease at the assembled VIPs, but he couldn't let this go uncommented. "Don't centre on your anxieties, Senator. You must keep your focus on the here and now, where it belongs."
An embarrassed hush settled over the delegation of politicians, and only Palpatine seemed unaffected by the awkwardness of the situation.
"May I present Supreme Chancellor Valorum," he introduced the Chancellor who hadn't said a single word so far.
"Welcome, Your Highness. It's an honour to finally meet you in person," he greeted the Queen.
"Thank you, Supreme Chancellor," Sabé answered. Padmé was standing next to her, and instead of paying attention she traded smiles with Anakin.
Valorum felt a bit stupid. Here he was, the Supreme Chancellor, the most powerful politician in the Republic, and the pleasantries he politely offered to the Queen was brushed away with a simple 'Thank you' and not with the appropriate polite formalities.
The greetings and unexpected shocks finally over, the Chancellor, the Senator and the Queen started walking towards the Chancellor's shuttle.
"I must relay to you how distressed everyone is over the current situation," Valorum continued. "I've called for a special session of the senate to hear your position."
"I'm grateful for your concern, Chancellor," the Queen droned in her monotonous queenly voice. Then she turned around and simply let him stand there while Palpatine walked off with her.
"There is a question of procedure, but I'm confident we can overcome it," Palpatine informed Sabé.
Anakin was following Padmé, while he let his gaze wander. He was too fascinated by all these new and interesting surroundings to notice that the Jedi were not coming along.
"I must speak with the Jedi Council immediately," Qui-Gon told Valorum. "The situation has become much more complicated."
The Chancellor turned around to Obi-Wan. Granted, the Padawan had just jumped of the platform, and yet he seemed more reasonable than the Master.
"Why did he tell me that?" he asked in a whisper.
"I, erm…" The Padawan seemed embarrassed. "I'm afraid he doesn't have any money and wants you to pay for the taxi."
Qui-Gon, on the other hand, was already somewhere else with his thoughts. When Padmé turned around to tell Anakin to come along, he didn't have to be told twice. He quickly looked for Qui-Gon's silent approval and then got into the open transport that was waiting for them, never mind that with all the heavy traffic and the thick layer of smog on Coruscant, it would have probably been much more comfortable in a closed vehicle.
To remind everyone that he was still there and as annoying as ever, Jar Jar opened his mouth and out came: "Da Queen's a bein grossly nice, mesa tinks." And because that wasn't enough, he added to Anakin's horror: "Pitty hot."
Anakin shuddered. Now he would be traumatized for the rest of his life. Jar Jar found the Queen hot! Ugh!
In the backseat, Sabé shuddered as well. That was it. If that Gungan found her hot, she never ever wanted to be dressed as the Queen again! She made up her mind to resign from active dressing-as-the-Queen-duty once there was a quiet moment in which to discuss this with Padmé.
oOo
Edited 22nd April, 2010
Edited 4th May, 2010 (Happy unofficial Star Wars Day – May the Fourth be with you!)
Edited 11th February, 2011