7.
OBI-WAN KENOBI
"Master Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said. "Fancy meeting you here. It seems the whole gang is back together."
"I take it you've discovered Anakin, then." Qui-Gon's voice was wry over the com, with an undercurrent of tension. Outside the front window of Queen Amidala's ship, Obi-Wan observed two Trade Federation drones pursuing the two-man fighter his master flew across the sky. Life-sign readings showed only one lifeform inside.
"Yes, he climbed out of a trunk and presented an eloquent argument about why he felt he was an indispensable part of our mission." Obi-Wan tried to keep the tension in his own voice undetectable as sensors tracked Master Qui-Gon undertaking a particularly complex evasive maneuver. His master's primary guns were nonoperational although his fighter had not yet been damaged. Obi-Wan had a bad feeling that he knew why Master Qui-Gon seemed to be missing his gunner. He was due to pick up his gunner planetside.
Qui-Gon confirmed his guess. "I came to take charge of him and protect him until your own mission is resolved."
Obi-Wan looked around the cockpit, from Nodric to Padmé to the handmaiden his master had called Sabé dressed in full Queen Amidala regalia for their hopeful upcoming liaison with the Gungun resistance. "Master, we cannot help you," he said. "We must continue on to the planet's surface. If we engage with the Trade Federation forces, we draw attention back to ourselves. Queen Amidala and Anakin are both still onboard."
"Understood, Padawan. I will lose them. Activate your personal com link and tune it to our private channel. I will trace the signal and rendezvous with you on the planet's surface."
"May the Force be with you."
"And you, Master Qui-Gon." Qui-Gon broke the connection, and Obi-Wan tried to numb himself to the worried, sympathetic looks of the others. He fell into a breathing pattern, separated his anger from himself and released it to the Force. Anakin's recklessness had put much in jeopardy: his life as well as the lives of those on the queen's ship who would now have to defend him. Anakin had endangered his own already tenuous standing within the Order, the integrity of Obi-Wan's Trial of Courage, and now, he had endangered Master Qui-Gon and the droid and fighter Qui-Gon had taken from the Order's hangars to come mitigate the mistake.
Master Qui-Gon would be as unable to leave the planet before a resolution to the conflict as Obi-Wan, the queen, and her entourage. The best Master Qui-Gon would be able to do with Anakin would be to hide him, and traditionally, protecting noncombatants had been Obi-Wan's role within their partnership. He had sheltered those they needed to care for while his master had done most of the heavy fighting. Now, Obi-Wan's mission from the Jedi Council necessitated they do things the other way around. Neither of them would care for the change, and Anakin wouldn't care much for it either. Anakin had apologized for his actions before they had emerged from hyperspace, but Obi-Wan doubted his remorse would last through being told a second time he must stay back from all the action.
This is going to be interesting. Naturally, provided Master Qui-Gon makes it to the surface to find us in the first place. But he wouldn't think about that.
Instead, he watched as the blockading fleet grew smaller and smaller on the horizon, and Naboo larger and larger. He hoped that the Gunguns were more amenable to an alliance than they had been last time. If they were not, Queen Amidala's position—and all of theirs by virtue of association—could become desperate. He remembered the fury and the reach of the Darkness he had sensed within his vision, the agent of that Darkness who sought them even now. What machinations had already been set in motion against the Jedi and the Republic, against every bit of Light that existed within the galaxy? What might come to set those forces of evil as firmly and as personally against him as he had sensed they could be within his vision?
You know the answer, Obi-Wan. He could sense it as if his master had said it outright, though Master Qui-Gon was silent across their bond. It was the voice in his own head that had come to sound like Qui-Gon, reminding him to be mindful of the present, to focus upon what he felt to be true in the moment, what he could do and change within the moment instead of hazy what-could-bes, which could provide useful information but ultimately served more often as distractions. The evil Obi-Wan had sensed lying in wait for them in the future, that backed this dark assassin—Obi-Wan was its enemy. He would resist that malicious greed with all that was within him and when all his resources failed. He would not be corrupted, and he would not give in, and someday, some time, his enemy would come to know that. And so, he would fight. And all the power that hate had to command would seek to defeat him.
Accept it. Own the choice you make now and choose to make in the future, and release your fear, Obi-Wan. Is your life and your peace worth more than the lives and peace of all the galaxy? No. Control yourself, and have faith. After all, it seems likely you might prove something of a nuisance to whatever evil is on its way.
For now, all there is to do is survive to the surface, meet the Gunguns, and discover the queen's plans for the future. Then you can determine how to protect her and Anakin; which avenue the assassin is likeliest to choose to attack and where he is likeliest to be camped and vulnerable.
Across the ship, however, burned a Light like a beacon, that would be felt by anyone trained in any Force techniques, across a world if not across the literal galaxy. And even as Obi-Wan tried to push off his worries until after they met with the Gunguns and the queen devised her plans, he suspected he knew how the assassin would find them to attack. And he suspected that all his plans of avoiding direct confrontation with the assassin and focusing instead on foiling his attack through a pattern of sabotage and reconnaissance had been foiled in their turn the moment Anakin had climbed into Queen Amidala's trunk.
They did not find the Gunguns in the hidden city, but Jar Jar Binks informed them of a sacred place on the continent where Boss Nass would have retreated to martial his forces for a counterattack. The Gunguns were there in force. Mounted soldiers patrolled evacuee camps of noncombatants, keeping an eye out for droid or drone infiltrators or anyone who wasn't Gungun.
Their party was challenged within a reasonable distance of their approach, and every Naboo compelled to surrender their weapons. Obi-Wan was permitted to retain his lightsaber. While the Gunguns disliked and distrusted humans due to decades of souring relations with the Naboo, the Jedi Order was still respected among them, and indeed, there were Gunguns within the Jedi ranks.
"Stay close to me, Ani," Obi-Wan instructed the boy as Gungun soldiers surrounded their little party and led them away toward Boss Nass to account for themselves. "The Gunguns and our friends do not have good relations. They have historically lived in peace, but the Gunguns are a more insular society. They may blame the Naboo for the invasion."
Anakin nodded, eyes wide, gazing around at the armored Gunguns and their electric spears. "They aren't gonna kill us or anything, are they?"
"Unlikely, but they may decide we're less trouble tossed in a cage somewhere until they sort this whole war out by themselves."
"But you won't let that happen, right? You'll do something before then."
Obi-Wan glanced down at the boy. "Anakin, my mission here is to locate the assassin trying to kill Queen Amidala and bring intelligence back on his identity and his superiors, if he has them, to the Jedi Council. The Senate has determined not to intervene here on Naboo—at least not yet, and technically, my presence here in the first place bends the Jedi allegiance to the Senate." He checked to make sure Anakin understood. "Right now, in the eyes of the Senate, we are caught up in an internal affair for Naboo. Queen Amidala and Boss Nass, the leader of the Gunguns, will determine what happens next, not I."
"Be a lot easier for that one guy to kill her if she's trapped in a cage someplace," Anakin muttered. "'Specially if we're trapped right there with her."
Despite the seriousness of their circumstances, Obi-Wan had to suppress a smile. Anakin wasn't wrong. It was important Anakin understand politics and mission authority if he continued on with the Jedi, yet if the Gunguns did move to imprison them all or worse, Obi-Wan would also indeed have to do something. He couldn't investigate an assassin from within a cage. Yet, the Gunguns rode right alongside them. It was probably a bad idea if they knew Obi-Wan had no intention of allowing himself to be taken prisoner.
The last time Obi-Wan had seen Boss Nass, the leader of the Gungun people, he had been sitting on a throne at his leisure. Now he stood in the dirt under the trees of the Gungun sacred place, and he was dressed for battle and hardship alongside all his people.
"Your Honor, Queen Amidala of the Naboo," the general who had taken charge of them after their surrender announced, bowing, and gesturing toward Sabé, who was still in the Queen Amidala regalia. Boss Nass scowled harder than he had even in the hidden city, and Obi-Wan sensed an arrowing in of hostility among the Gungun soldiers. They truly did not care for the humans who shared their world.
Jar Jar Binks gave his erstwhile leader a floppy wave. "Uh, heyo dadee, Big Boss Nass, Your Honor," he said.
The Gungun leader inclined his head to his exiled citizen. "Jar Jar Binks. Who's da uss-en others?" he asked. It was a way of acknowledging the difference between those who had come before him. For all his blundering, Binks remained a Gungun. Binks was one of Boss Nass's people, and by asking Jar Jar once again who the Naboo were when his general had just told him, Boss Nass offered the humans an insult.
Sidestepping both the insult and the attempt to sideline the Naboo, Sabé stepped forward to address the Gungun leader directly. "I am Queen Amidala of the Naboo," she said, in the low, monotone voice it seemed that both she and Padmé had developed to assist in their deception. "I come before you in peace."
Boss Nass sneered. "Ah, Naboo biggen. Yousa bringen da Mackineeks. Yousa all bombad." He gestured dismissively, but the words, denotatively ambiguous within the Gungun pidgin dialect, were a curse within this context. As Obi-Wan had surmised, the Gunguns—or, more specifically, Boss Nass, blamed the Naboo's interests in trade and interrelations with the wider galaxy for the Trade Federation invasion.
Yet, there was reason to feel somewhat better than could have been expected. Boss Nass clearly perceived no threat from Queen Amidala and her entourage. He was angry; sullen, but Obi-Wan sensed he did not plan to do anything to them. He would insult and then ignore them. There would be no need for escaping any cage, but the Naboo would receive no help.
Nevertheless, Sabé was out of her depth. She was a warrior. She might have been prepared for a denial. She would have been prepared for battle. This cold dismissal into irrelevance by the Gungun leader was beyond her. She did not know how to pierce through Nass's indifference to plead their case. Instead, she fell back on the approved course of action. "We have searched you out because we wish to form an alliance."
A shift in the mood and current of the grove. Obi-Wan felt Anakin's attention in particular come to an acute focus as Padmé stepped forward in front of her decoy, taking charge. "Your Honor," she called.
Boss Nass turned, surprised. "Whosa dis?" he demanded.
"I am Queen Amidala," Padmé declared. Obi-Wan shifted his weight. It was a gamble, revealing herself now, yet the true Amidala would be much better prepared to navigate the politics of the situation than her decoy. He was ready to defend her if it proved necessary.
And beside him, Obi-Wan sensed a sudden pulse of shock then an intensifying of Anakin's interest with the proceedings. A fierce, joyous triumph and delight. Anakin fist-pumped. "I knew it!" he exclaimed, though mindful of the proceedings, he did not speak above a whisper. Obi-Wan shot him a look. Anakin subsided.
"This is my decoy, my protection, my loyal bodyguard," Padmé was explaining. "I apologize for our deception, but it was necessary for my protection. Although we do not always agree, Your Honor, our two great societies have always lived in peace."
It was the right note to strike from the first: the Gunguns often felt offended by what they felt was the arrogance of the humans who made up less than a third of the planet's population yet claimed to represent the whole. Their traditional warrior's culture was isolationist and simpler than the Naboo, who prided themselves upon their artistry and sophistication. In fact, the Gunguns had fairly advanced technology, yet it lacked the intersystem, luxury style of the technology of the human inhabitants of the planet. By acknowledging the two societies as equals, Padmé had already extended a hand to the Gunguns and their leader.
There was also an impact to Amidala's approach of passion and earnestness now, as opposed to the pomp and ceremony Sabé had been trained to. The formality was appropriate at the galas or festivals that made up the queen's ordinary schedule. Less so in a meeting with a displaced people fighting for survival and pleading for her own people already imprisoned. Not for nothing had Naberrie been made Naboo's youngest elected monarch in generations.
"The Trade Federation has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build," Padmé continued. "If we do not act quickly, all will be lost forever. I ask you to help us." A thought crossed Padmé's face, and abruptly, she knelt before the Gungun leader.
Anakin moved before Obi-Wan even registered that he should do the same, and then they were all kneeling before the Gunguns.
"No," Padmé amended, "I beg you to help us. We are your humble servants. Our fate is in your hands."
The clearing fell silent as they waited for Boss Nass's answer. Amidala's sincerity rang out over the sacred grove, and Obi-Wan could only admire the way she had allowed her true humility and desperation in this moment to show through—surrendering her dignity here could only flatter the Gunguns and show her commitment to the salvation of her people. Yet she had a strength she could not understand completely: the full force of Anakin's will now was trained upon Padmé's support. The Force-blind in the grove would not understand fully what was happening; Obi-Wan doubted Anakin himself understood what the strength of his respect, admiration, and compassion for his friend did now, but Anakin's attention gave Amidala power. She would sense she was not alone, that others stood behind her in sentiment as well as in form, loved her all the more in this moment of weakness before beings who had historically had no fellow feeling or compassion for her people. The Gunguns would feel an intensified sense of Amidala's righteousness, an echo of Anakin's own sense of Padmé's worth.
The boy had knelt before even the handmaidens and security forces trained to respond to Amidala. He was very attuned to her.
Obi-Wan was unsurprised when Boss Nass broke out into a wide, amphibious grin. "Ha!" he cried, throwing his arms out in both directions. "Yousa no tinken yousa greater den da Gunguns?" he demanded. Wordlessly, Padmé shook her head. "Mesa like this," Boss Nass told her. "Maybe wesa being friends." He made an imperious gesture, and soldiers came forward with the Naboo weapons. Padmé rose, and all of them rose. They could begin negotiations—not on whether they would ally at all but on what terms that alliance would be. So simply was it settled: they were all of them going to war.
"Here," Obi-Wan said, offering Anakin some of the Gungun soldier rations, a piece of jerky made from various Naboo protein sources and fish skin. "Most of your last meal wound up all over Padmé's floor. You should eat while you have the chance."
With the immediate threat of the Gunguns gone, an awkwardness had settled over the pair of them. Anakin's shouts and accusations on the ship hung in the air between them, and so did Obi-Wan's response. Hours after the fact, Obi-Wan still regretted losing his temper with the boy.
He's nine years old, and it was a temper tantrum, founded in what has been a period of near-incomparable stress for the boy.
You should have done better.
"Thanks," Anakin muttered, taking the jerky. "I'm sorry. 'Bout before. I shouldn't've—" he broke off, eyes falling. He bit off a piece of the meat, made a face, but chewed and swallowed anyway. Gungun food was edible for humans, but the species did have very different tastes. "Why do the Gunguns all talk like that?"
Obi-Wan recognized the change of subject as Ani's own banner of surrender. He was requesting knowledge, attempting to return them to a familiar footing. Obi-Wan allowed it. They discussed the ways different cultures sometimes personalized and bastardized Basic as a show of individuality. Anakin ate. Eventually, Master Qui-Gon showed up.
Obi-Wan clasped his master's arm, sharing his relief with the Force. "It's like you to be late to the party."
"I trust you can catch me up," Qui-Gon answered, glancing over at where Padmé and her captain, Panaka, conferred with Boss Nass, his generals, and tragically, Jar Jar Binks, whom Boss Nass had elected to thank for their new alliance. "I see our Queen Amidala has finally doffed her disguise."
"You knew Padmé was the queen?!" Anakin demanded.
Obi-Wan suppressed a smile. "I thought you knew too. You said you did."
Anakin blushed. "Okay, so I didn't know know," he admitted. "I'm just glad it's her, okay? It makes sense, you know? She's smarter than all of them!"
"Indeed," Qui-Gon grinned.
"You will learn how to spot if a leader is using a decoy, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, "Like Padmé with her bodyguard, Sabé. It can be useful to know on planets like Naboo where the leader is expected to maintain a degree of anonymity—to be more of a front or a mask than a person. You know, Amidala is an assumed name. Padmé made it up for her candidate within the elections, and the other candidates did the same. Do not feel that your friend has lied to you. She truly is Padmé Naberrie."
He meant to be kind, but in this assumption, it seemed Obi-Wan had attributed more anxiety to Anakin in this moment than he possessed. Anakin scoffed. "Oh, I know that. Back on the ship the first time, she told me about her family and the droids she has at home and everything. She misses them too, but she said what she does now is more important. I just didn't realize how important."
It occurred to Obi-Wan that Anakin and Padmé Naberrie had found common ground in more than their love for the R2-D2 unit. If Anakin did become a Jedi instead of joining the corps or returning to a life in freedom with his mother, provided they freed her at the end of this campaign, he too would be electing to pursue a life of public service instead of a life with his family.
His master called them back to attention. "What is your plan now, Obi-Wan? We both traversed the blockade to arrive here, but I wouldn't gamble our chances on running it again, particularly with Anakin."
He had come to the same conclusion, then: it would not be safe to attempt to leave the planet with Anakin until the situation with the Trade Federation was resolved. Obi-Wan looked down at Anakin, uncertain how to proceed now with the boy. There were things Obi-Wan should discuss with his master, yet he didn't want to reveal more than Anakin could handle once again. It would be simple enough to tell Ani to go to Rabé or one of the other handmaidens now, to work with the R2 unit or see if he could meet the Gungun mount master; he had shown interest in the creatures that they rode. Yet all the available options to send him out of earshot now would also send him to the fringes of the camp, and if Obi-Wan was correct, the fringes of the camp was the last place Anakin Skywalker should be. He could hardly tell the boy to stick his fingers in his ears and sing.
No, Obi-Wan decided. Their priority at the moment was to keep Anakin physically safe, and it would not be the worst thing for him to hear the likeliest consequence of his recent decisions. Obi-Wan would permit Anakin to hear it.
This time, not to frighten him. This time, to make sure he is prepared, he resolved.
"Unfortunately, I think running with Anakin into the wildlands may be an equally risky proposition, Master," Obi-Wan confessed. It would have been his preference, but with a likely Force-User, it was simply not feasible. "If I had to guess, I would say the assassin most likely found us before by tracking the transponder of Queen Amidala's ship, or else Trade Federation agents had placed a tracer. However, Padmé is no longer in her ship. Now that she has gone to ground and is preparing for a planetside combat, I suspect the assassin may look for a shortcut to find her."
They both looked down at Anakin, and Obi-Wan felt his master's understanding. "You believe he may track Anakin," he concluded, grim. "It would be tempting," he admitted. "He would have felt Ani with the queen on Tatooine and again now that she has reentered the Naboo system."
"'Cause I'm loud, right?" Anakin asked, sounding resigned. "I don't know if 'loud' is the right word, but that's how it felt through the thing Obi-Wan showed me. Like you guys, Jedi, hear me all the time. Like a krayt dragon or something, hollering at everything. You think that sleemo from Tatooine would hear it too?"
"The thing my padawan showed you?" Master Qui-Gon repeated, looking over at Obi-Wan, eyes narrowed. Because Anakin was loud, he could feel the boy's guilt and hurt now.
Obi-Wan endeavored to stay on track. "I think it's possible," he told Anakin, "Even probable, if our adversary is indeed a Force adept."
"I've tried that thing all you Jedi do to make you kinda less noticeable," Anakin said, "but I don't think I'm too good at it yet. It's how you found me on the ship, right?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan confirmed. "You had left traces in Padmé's wardrobe and food supplies, of course, but I knew to check them because I felt you were still nearby."
"Anakin would be simple to track across a planet," Qui-Gon said. "I see. If our assassin assumes Ani has remained with Queen Amidala, we could potentially draw him out by separating from her, but whether you are right or wrong in this, it may not be the ideal scenario to divide our forces."
"If I'm right, a trained assassin you had trouble with last time heads straight for you and Anakin," Obi-Wan confirmed. "If I'm wrong, we leave the queen without Jedi protection. No. I believe the best way to protect you both is to remain together," he said, addressing Anakin directly now.
Anakin plucked at his sleeve. He wouldn't look up at them. His feelings churned faster within the Force. "If I'd stayed at the Temple like you told me, this never woulda happened."
"You couldn't have known, Ani," Master Qui-Gon told him. "I'm surprised that you are aware you transmit your emotions in the Force now. Have you and Obi-Wan discussed this?"
Anakin's eyes shifted to Obi-Wan and away. "Sort of," he muttered. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't listen," he told Obi-Wan. "I coulda done what you said back at the Jedi Temple. I was really bored, and scared for you and Padmé, but I coulda done what you and the healer and the council wanted. But I think me and Mister Qui-Gon should probably go away—away from Padmé if we can't leave the planet. I could probably fly us out. But if that assassin chases after me like you think, at least he won't get Padmé and them, and you can follow him, and you and Qui-Gon can get him."
"If I thought the assassin likely to follow me or Master Qui-Gon as a shortcut to Queen Amidala, it would be one thing to separate our forces," Obi-Wan said, looking up into Anakin's eyes. "But I would prefer not to use you as bait, Ani. I'm not willing to take the risk that this man can take us by surprise if you are with us. If you are as close to the center of things as you can be, he will be forced to show himself to someone before he can fulfill his objective and attack Padmé. Then Qui-Gon and I can head him off."
Qui-Gon frowned. "Padawan, your objective is to discover what you can of the assassin on your own. This is your Trial of Courage from the Council. They will not approve of my involvement, nor did I believe you planned to confront the assassin directly."
Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder up at his master. "I hadn't, but if he goes for Anakin, one or the other of us will have to stop him, Master."
"But he could go for Padmé," Anakin pointed out. "If he does what you think he's gonna do, he's just following me to get to her, right?" He shook his head and looked up past Obi-Wan to his master. "Nuh-uh. I've been enough trouble. That guy's got a new way to find her, now Obi-Wan's talking about messing up his trial to take care of me, we're not gonna put Padmé in any more danger. We need to go."
Obi-Wan considered. Anakin was protective of his friends. A good quality, yet in Anakin, demonstrably carried to an extreme. It was this protective instinct which had led him to stow away in Padmé's wardrobe. The regret Anakin felt now for the consequences of that decision would not stop him from making a similarly disastrous one in fleeing to protect her now—and to protect Obi-Wan's own trials, for Obi-Wan could not ignore that he was himself one of the friends Anakin was driven to protect so fiercely. If Anakin became a Jedi, he would have to learn to let go of the fear of loss which lay behind his ferocity. For now, it was probably best to work within it.
He squeezed the boy's shoulders, returning Anakin's attention to himself. "We don't know that I'm right, Anakin," he pointed out. "It is likely our enemy may be following you now. It would be the simplest course of action. But he may use other methods. If you and Master Qui-Gon run, he may follow you and then double back when he realizes you have separated from Padmé. He may not follow you at all and attack Padmé as soon as he sees an opportunity. We do not know what he will do. We do not know him well enough. What we do know is that staying together offers us the best chance to protect both you and Padmé now. We will have more eyes watching for his approach. We will have more weapons that can stop him. We will have more people qualified to fight. Do you understand?"
"We will stop him, Ani," Qui-Gon added. "We will protect you and your friend."
Anakin searched Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan felt the boy begin to probe him with the Force. He had probably done it thousands of times before, searching the intentions of others, judging deception and trustworthiness by instinct. This time, however, Anakin realized what he was doing. He was beginning to understand when he used the Force, and Obi-Wan had showed him how this particular trick could feel . . . invasive. Anakin stopped. His eyes met Obi-Wan's, and Obi-Wan felt something akin to the scratching of an akk dog at the door between their minds—Anakin, asking for permission.
Pleased and touched, Obi-Wan opened the link. He extended his consciousness to Anakin, gently, this time. He offered Anakin his apologies for his behavior on the ship, his conviction that staying together truly was their best course of action. He offered Anakin his forgiveness. In return, he felt a near-overwhelming wave of mixed relief-shame-thanks, punctuated with the equivalent of half a dozen psychic exclamation points. And, amid all Anakin's gratitude and humiliation, the smallest hidden kernel of rebellion. Anakin's pride had been badly bruised.
Just as gently as he had allowed Anakin into his mind, Obi-Wan evicted the boy again, closing the door between them while making it clear he was not locking the passage. Anakin nodded. "Okay," Anakin said, turning to Master Qui-Gon. "We'll stay together," he agreed. "I guess since we're all here anyway, we should probably stick around to see what happens. Anyway, maybe one of you can do something to help these guys. They seem like they're planning quite the fight. I'll go make sure Artoo is ready." He walked off, but he walked toward the center of the camp. Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon let him go.
"You've quarreled," Master Qui-Gon observed.
"I . . . did not handle Anakin's decision to stow away on the queen's ship and put himself in danger as well as I might have," Obi-Wan confessed. "I showed him some things he did not need to know. Not now, anyway, when he has so little control. He is to blame for his own poor decisions, but—" Obi-Wan sighed. "We have perhaps been too mindful of our own comfort around him. He has sensed the Jedi draw back from him, Master, and he is already afraid. He cannot help his power or his lack of training."
"No," Master Qui-Gon agreed. "I was struck by your charge of neglect back at the Temple, Obi-Wan, and concerned to realize I had not cared for the boy in accordance with the merits of his situation. You, at least, have not drawn back from Ani, despite the challenges he presents. I'm proud of you."
"There have been times I would have liked to draw back," Obi-Wan answered. "He knows, and of course that only complicates things further. I swear I didn't mean to acquire an apprentice until I obtained a knighthood."
Qui-Gon hummed. "I think the Council is happier at the prospect of you with him than me."
"Yes, well, you always said the Council doesn't know everything." Obi-Wan looked out through the trees of the Gungun sacred place, watching the play of light and shadow across the leaf-strewn ground and sensing for the darkness that was their assassin. He was on Naboo, yes, but not too near. "Master, have you ever doubted yourself? With me? Would you say you have made mistakes over the course of my apprenticeship?"
"I've made many," Qui-Gon answered at once. "There were times I sought out the guidance of others, concerned I would be unable to mend the breaches that arose between the two of us. There were times I misjudged you, times I could not teach you in the ways that you most needed. You would lose your temper, and so would I, and I daresay there were days and weeks and even months when neither of us did ourselves too much credit, as Jedi or as men.
"Yet, you have grown," Qui-Gon finished, "with me and sometimes, I think, around or in spite of me. Anakin will do the same, and I believe you will be a better guardian and teacher to him than I have been to you. But, on days when you are not, I will be there, Obi-Wan. And, if I'm not, you can always count on Yoda to stick his nose in."
Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, Master."
Master Qui-Gon clapped his shoulder. "Anytime. Now, we should find Ani before he gets into too much trouble. Then we will need to consult with Padmé to determine our best placement within the battle."
Obi-Wan bowed and fell into train behind his master. There would be a penalty for this, he knew. Another mission away, a longer time until he achieved his knighthood. His trials had been corrupted. But Queen Amidala's safety, Anakin's safety was more important. And it was nice to be at his master's side again.
ANAKIN
Back home, Anakin used to think battles would be exciting. Turned out, they were a lot of work before anyone ever started flying fighters or shooting a blaster. You had to figure out exactly where everyone was gonna stand, where they were gonna get their guns and how many power packs they needed, how the bad guys were gonna come at you, and what you'd do if they didn't do that but did something else instead. And when you were fighting beside somebody else, somebody who wasn't exactly friendly, there was a whole lot of arguing.
Obi-Wan and Mister Qui-Gon wouldn't let him keep watch on the edge of the Gungun camp in case those Trade Federation guys came close. They didn't want that assassin to sneak up on them. So Anakin had to stay right in the middle of the camp. By now, he knew he'd've been safer and smarter staying back at the Jedi Temple. Before too long, he'd heard enough of the arguing about the most boring things to work out it would've probably also been more interesting back in the med wing doing whatever work the Council had had in mind to start catching him up on the apprentice stuff. They'd left all the compatible parts for Artoo back on the ship, too. He couldn't even work on Padmé's droid!
Obi-Wan made it a little better. He made suggestions to Padmé's security guys or the Gungun generals every now and then—they'd made Jar Jar a general!—but mostly, he stayed by Anakin. He explained why they couldn't just fight the droids but had to go after the droid controller up in orbit too; why it was important Padmé and Sabé and Captain Panaka and them get the viceroy of the Trade Federation quick. He talked about why Boss Nass had a lady writing out terms for an alliance thing with Padmé in the time they were waiting for intelligence officers to come back with information for the battle maps.
"I guess they'll probably teach me how to read and write back at the Temple, huh?" Anakin said. He wasn't too excited about that. He knew learning things would be a lot easier once he didn't have to figure everything out himself but could read what other people had figured out already. But it was just more stuff to know. There was more of that almost every hour, it felt like. He didn't know when he'd ever be done.
Obi-Wan's eyes focused in on him then. Obi-Wan had weird colored eyes. They weren't blue or green but kinda both, and when they focused, you could just tell how smart he was. "They'll teach you," he promised. "Are you worried about it?"
"Nah, I'll get it," Anakin said. "It's just a lot, you know? I know you probably can't. It's probably apprentice stuff, not the padawan stuff I'll be learning when you're my master, but I wish you could teach me. Things just make sense when you explain them. You don't laugh when I don't know stuff, either, and you don't think it's 'cause I'm stupid." He paused. "I know I've done some stupid stuff, but I know you know I'm not stupid."
"I do know, Anakin," Obi-Wan assured him. He was silent for a moment. Anakin thought he felt a little awkward. "You're right that reading and writing is usually covered by the youngling instructors, but if you like, and if I am living within the Temple and not on mission, I could help you with your lessons. You are going to have to learn a lot, and I have discussed with both Qui-Gon and the Council how your learning plan is going to have to be rather different. We all understand you are coming to us under unusual circumstances. It makes sense that we will need to teach you in unusual ways."
Anakin smiled. Obi-Wan just got it. "That'd be good," he said. "I know I should probably learn some stuff with the little kids. I'll need to learn some things the way all you Jedi do if I'm gonna be one. But if you help me too, I can probably catch up faster, you know? I could be your padawan faster, a real help instead of how I've been—like you are for Mister Qui-Gon. And I probably wouldn't feel so dumb all the time."
"Oh, there were times when I was younger when I got Master Qui-Gon into trouble too," Obi-Wan promised him. "I wasn't always the paragon of padawan perfection you see before you, and he would be the first to say so."
Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan, skeptical. Mister Qui-Gon loved Obi-Wan. Everyone loved him. Obi-Wan always did the right thing, probably. He didn't mess up like Anakin when he was just trying to help, and he didn't get mad when Anakin messed up either, or not as mad as he could. He knew so much. And he was kind, too, which Mom said was most important. Even when Anakin was a pain, he didn't care. He just did what he needed to to keep everyone safe, even when it looked super hard.
Only, Obi-Wan didn't always keep himself safe. Anakin being a pain and messing up since they'd met had put Obi-Wan in danger, from the assassin guy and from Anakin himself, when Anakin didn't know what he was doing with the Force. Anakin had to get better. He had to stop just playing around with this Force stuff the way he'd played around with Watto's junk back home. He could wear goggles and gloves in case he blew something up back then—now if he blew something up . . . he was in Obi-Wan's head. And he didn't even really know how he had got there. He didn't want to mess up and blow up Obi-Wan by mistake, and he was pretty sure Obi-Wan had been trying to tell him that a couple of times he'd almost done it.
And this assassin guy, the scary one who'd almost run over Anakin and Padmé back home. If Obi-Wan was right, he'd find Padmé following Anakin, and Obi-Wan and Mister Qui-Gon would have to fight him now to keep Anakin and Padmé safe, instead of just following him and blowing up all his stuff or whatever like Obi-Wan had maybe wanted before. Anakin hadn't wanted that! He wanted all his friends far away from that guy! He definitely didn't want everybody in more danger just because they had to look out for him. He wasn't even supposed to be here.
The Gunguns got on people-movers and their weird, snuffly animals and went away. They were gonna have a big battle out on the plain. It was gonna draw the Trade Federation droid forces out away from Theed. Anakin said bye to Jar Jar. He stayed with Obi-Wan, Mister Qui-Gon, and the queen's party. They'd be going for fighters back at the queen's palace to take on the droid control ship in space. They'd be going after the viceroy who was in charge of this whole invasion. And if that assassin guy showed up for Padmé, Obi-Wan and Mister Qui-Gon would take him.
Anakin rode on a speeder with Mister Qui-Gon to Theed. He wished he had a blaster or something. There was Artoo, up with Padmé. No one really knew all he could do now, and he was excited to try his new weapons out. Artoo really liked some action. He'd protect Anakin and Padmé just like Obi-Wan and Mister Qui-Gon. But Anakin really wished he knew how to protect himself. It wasn't too hard to use a blaster, right? Padmé and the handmaidens had learned, and they weren't too much older than he was.
Man, if Watto could see him now. Fighting in a battle, wondering what to do with a blaster if he got hold of one a little later. If a slave ever got a blaster back home, they were killed outright as a rebellion risk.
Naboo sure was pretty. Way prettier than Coruscant, for all it didn't have so many people. As he and Mister Qui-Gon and them sped across the land, Anakin saw what Obi-Wan had meant: There was a lot of water on Padmé's planet. Lakes of it. Oceans even! They only had the one star, and it was colder than Tatooine, especially with the wind from the speeder. And every shade of green Anakin had seen had always been on people before—Hutts and Twi'leks and Rodians. Now, green was everywhere. Plants were everywhere. If there were planets like this, no wonder Obi-Wan and other people liked vegetables so much.
Theed, though—as they raced into Theed, some of the buildings kinda reminded Anakin of Mos Espa, if Mos Espa had had trees growing everywhere. The buildings looked more like buildings on Tatooine than Coruscant, anyway. White stone, with open windows. Only there were paintings and this decorative glass everywhere. Filmy, lacy curtains blowing from windows way bigger than anything they had on Tatooine. Windows let in the heat.
But no people. It was creepy. All the people that shoulda been in the city weren't. Captain Panaka had said the droids had taken them all to camps, and now there were only droids, marching here and there in lines with assault rifles. There were several of them right in front of the palace, where Padmé said they needed to go to catch the viceroy and send the pilots after that droid controller to save the Gunguns.
They were sneaky. Padmé had some of her security guys, along with a couple of the handmaidens, creep around the square. They would keep the droids outside busy while the rest of them got inside the palace. Padmé had a little light to signal the attack, but before it started, Mister Qui-Gon grabbed Anakin's shoulder. Made him look up.
"Once we get inside, you find a safe place to hide and stay there," he told Anakin.
Anakin tensed. He wasn't gonna do that! What if that assassin guy came looking? He could find Anakin just like Obi-Wan had back on the ship! No, when people started shooting, Anakin was gonna find a blaster! He was gonna find some way to fix this! But he couldn't tell Qui-Gon that. If he did, Qui-Gon would only take him away, and then Obi-Wan would be alone, and the assassin could come after Anakin and Qui-Gon or the queen, and things would just be bad all over. So Anakin lied. "Sure," he said.
Qui-Gon glared at him, extending a finger, and Anakin wondered if Mister Qui-Gon maybe knew he was lying. "Stay there," he said again.
But then Padmé had signaled with her little light, the other team had blown up a droid tank, and Anakin was in the middle of his very first battle.
People and droids were shooting everywhere! It was loud and smelled like a racing track, what with machines blowing up and people getting burned and all. And Anakin didn't have a blaster. He didn't have armor or anything.
Someone shot right behind him! Anakin crouched down and hunched in close to the wall. The Jedi had their lightsabers out, and they were batting away blaster bolts like they were playing ball or something. Obi-Wan was out in front. It was like he wasn't even scared at all! Padmé walked behind him, moving toward the door she'd said was closest to the hangar. Qui-Gon was on her other side. Anakin kept next to him, and Artoo, Sabé, and the pilots came behind. Sabé was still pretending to be the queen. They all knew she wasn't, but Padmé was hoping the viceroy and them wouldn't know.
Across the courtyard, Anakin felt one of their guys die, shot by one of those Trade Federation droids. He felt how the guy hurt, how he was surprised, then just . . . not there anymore. He'd seen people die before, in the podrace and other times back home. This was different. There was something ugly and crazy about this. Things were tense.
But it was like Obi-Wan didn't even feel it. He could feel Obi-Wan—Mister Qui-Gon too, but Obi-Wan a whole lot more. It was like they were meditating or something. Like none of the blaster fire or the people dying or any of it mattered. But they were using the Force. He could feel it—using it the same way Anakin did to podrace, only he hadn't known what he was doing then. They were using the Force to feel where the blaster bolts would be, to keep them away from everyone in their group.
Anakin was scared, but Obi-Wan wasn't. He could handle a couple little droids and their blasters. He knew how to do this. He was strong and fast and just as good with his lightsaber as Anakin had ever thought he would be. One day, Anakin thought, I'll be like that. One day, he'd be so good with a lightsaber that he could walk right out in front of the people he cared about and nothing would touch them. He could kill anything bad that came at him. Obi-Wan was killing droids all over, sending their own blaster bolts right back at them!
Padmé was brave too, though. She shot droids with this shiny little blaster sometimes, but mostly she just kept going, heading for the door. Anakin hurried after her. She knew where she was going!
She opened the door they'd been headed for with a special code and walked right inside. Anakin followed her in with Sabé and Artoo and Captain Panaka and the Jedi and the pilots, but he looked back over his shoulder as they went out of the sun—they were leaving an awful lot of people fighting back there. Security guys, some of Padmé's friends, and no Jedi to bat all the blaster bolts away for them. He felt more bad stuff, and just knew that two more of them had been killed, or else hurt real, real bad. Yané? One of Captain Panaka's friends? Anakin had no idea, but he was sad, and mad, and he ran after Obi-Wan and Mister Qui-Gon, even though part of him didn't want to. Part of him wanted to stay and help, to fight. But he couldn't, and he knew that this was why Padmé hadn't wanted him to come. She'd said that she was sad he'd see bad things on her home planet, and now he was seeing that bad stuff all over.
Padmé took them down a hallway, real wide and pretty but not too long. She was right that it was close to the hangar. Off to the right, there were a bunch of metal walkways and forcefields that looked like some kind of power complex. Anakin got a bad feeling looking at them. And there was something else too—more than the droids and their blasters, more than Padmé's friends dying or being just what Obi-Wan had said, little and unarmed in the middle of a battle with no way to make sure he wasn't fodder next. Something else was coming. Something evil.
Padmé opened the hangar door, and there were more droids waiting there. The area was big and open, and there wasn't a good way to hide behind Obi-Wan anymore.
"Ani, find cover, quick!" Mister Qui-Gon ordered. Anakin ran.
He went off to the side, like he'd done before. There were shipping crates and stuff there, boxes like the one he'd hid on to get back onto Padmé's ship, only these ones were metal. Maybe they could stop a blaster. Maybe he could hide. Ani spun around behind one and crouched, watching the others. He was scared.
"Get to your ships!" Padmé yelled at the pilots, and Anakin saw there were ships, fighters, lined up and ready to go. Droids too, astromechs like R2-D2. They'd be the pilots' helpers, helping manage the fighter and fixing the fighters in a battle.
Anakin saw everybody fighting—Sabé with a knife in one hand and a blaster in another. She stepped through the battle like she was dancing, like she did this every day, even wearing that Queen Amidala wig and tunic. She liked this a lot better than talking in that Queen Amidala voice for Padmé, he could tell. This was what she was for—she was protecting Padmé just like Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were protecting him.
There were droids leaking oil and systems overloading all over the floor. Then the pilots started to leave, jumping into the fighters, bringing astromechs on elevators up with them. The ships came alive with roars all over the hangar, flew out toward the blue sky up ahead.
But one guy didn't make it: he was shot, just like the guys out in the courtyard, just a little way away from his fighter. Ani saw him go down. He swore he could smell the guy's burning body! But Artoo, who'd been with him, didn't stop. He headed straight on past the pilot toward the last fighter, and Anakin suddenly just knew he'd go anyway. That little droid would fly off into the battle up in orbit all alone without a pilot. But he couldn't do it, not alone. He was the best little droid in the whole galaxy, probably, except maybe for Threepio. But he couldn't fly a fighter all alone.
Anakin ran after him.
"Hey, wait up, Artoo!"
Artoo's central processor swung around. He had sensors on the back too, so he could still see where he was going. He whistled for Ani to go with him.
"You wanna go up there?!"
R2-D2 explained an astromech's primary function was to assist in dangerous spaceflight conditions, but he required an engineer. Anakin was the best engineer he knew. Together, they would be unstoppable!
Anakin looked back at Obi-Wan, Mister Qui-Gon, and the others, cleaning up the rest of the hangar droids. This definitely wasn't what they'd wanted when they told him to find a place to hide! Suddenly, he didn't care. He'd been dumb heading out here to help his friends without a weapon, but right there was a weapon he knew he could use! He might not be able to use the Force right yet or fight like a Jedi, but in that cockpit, he could push buttons until he figured out what they did all he wanted, and R2-D2 would help.
He took a running jump and caught the lip of the fighter. He climbed inside and strapped in, and in a couple tries, he'd figured out how to raise the elevator with R2-D2. He didn't try anything else, though—not yet. R2-D2 wanted to go. He wanted to fly in the space battle. But while Artoo could probably do a lot with the functions of the fighter, he couldn't fly it fly it. That was up to his partner. He whistled. Artoo really wanted to get out of here. But Anakin stayed put.
All the droids in the hangar were down. Ani doubted even he'd be able to make much out of them anymore, even with all of Watto's tools. Padmé and Obi-Wan and them circled up, breathing real heavy. Padmé looked at Ani for a second, just a second to make sure he was alright. Then she got back to business. "My guess is the viceroy's in the throne room," she said.
Captain Panaka nodded and raised his hand over his head to call the others. "Red group! Blue group! Everybody, this way!"
They started moving. Anakin panicked. They were going to leave him behind! That thing was getting closer, the bad thing, the evil, and they were gonna leave him! He stood up in his seat. "Hey, wait for me!"
Mister Qui-Gon turned around. "Anakin, stay where you are," he ordered. "You'll be safe there."
Obi-Wan didn't like that; Ani could tell. He frowned. "Are you certain that's a good idea, Master?" he murmured.
"The hangar is clear. We can seal it behind us. Anakin will be alright," Master Qui-Gon said.
"I'm not worried about a hangar breach—" Obi-Wan began.
"There's no time, Padawan," Master Qui-Gon interrupted. "Stay in that cockpit!" he told Anakin again..
Then the hangar door opened, and that guy was there. The one from Tatooine.
Anakin hadn't got a good look at him before. The guy had come up behind him on a speeder, and then Qui-Gon had been fighting him and Anakin had been running faster than he'd ever run in his whole life. Now he saw the guy, shorter than Mister Qui-Gon but bigger around than Obi-Wan, all in black. He had this paint all over his skin, this awful, ugly black and red. He had horns like a crown all around his head. His eyes were yellow, his teeth were black, and he was the bad thing Anakin had known was coming. He was the evil.
Looking at him, Anakin just knew the guy hated everyone. He mighta been sent to kill Padmé, but he would kill every one of them if he could. He wanted to! And he wanted to kill Mister Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan most of all.
"We'll handle this," Mister Qui-Gon told the others. He and Obi-Wan stepped forward, between the assassin and the rest of them.
"We'll take the long way," Padmé agreed, already moving away from the Jedi and the assassin toward another door closer to the fighter exit. But Anakin felt a surge of mean happiness from the assassin—he wanted that, too! Before Ani could shout a warning, a whole new bunch of droids rolled into the hangar!
These ones were different from the droids with assault rifles. A whole lot bigger, with forcefields and miniguns! One of Captain Panaka's guys went down. The others scattered.
Anakin grit his teeth. He pulled up the helmet from next to the pilot's seat—that part was the same as in a podracer. He put it on and strapped it—better to be safe than sorry. He pushed two buttons before he figured out how to activate the fighter. The bubble dome came up and sealed around him. He heard the airlock seal, a hiss—that was life support, coming on.
He didn't know half the buttons, but the fighter was a machine, and Ani knew he could figure this out. His friends were down there! They needed help! And Anakin could help them, no matter what Obi-Wan said. In this ship, he could help them.
He found the guns, the wheels, ground steering. The systems came online, and Anakin fired. His first shot blasted one of the new droids right off the floor and into smithereens!
Anakin cheered and aimed again—this was easy! It was fun! Two, three, four, he shot them, and Padmé and the others were all clear. He'd done it, just like Obi-Wan out in the courtyard! He looked back at Obi-Wan now. Him and Qui-Gon were fighting that guy, the assassin. Obi-Wan's lightsaber was blue, Mister Qui-Gon's was green, and the assassin had a double blade, like a staff. It was red, and it screamed at Anakin just like the assassin did in the Force. Die! Die! Die!
Anakin glared. "You wanna kill me, you're gonna have to come and get me, sleemo," he muttered. He examined all the buttons in the fighter. He could do this.
He wasn't staying around to be trouble for the others. He wasn't gonna stay where Padmé would worry when she needed to get the viceroy, where Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon would try to protect him instead of taking care of themselves.
He was gonna fly and cause some real trouble.
OBI-WAN KENOBI
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Obi-Wan knew Anakin was going rogue again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the boy's discomfort and anger had been building since the battle began and that the moment that damned droid had rolled forward without a pilot, Ani had seen an opportunity, that Master Qui-Gon's brilliant idea for the boy to stay in a fighter cockpit was anything but. Anakin was too brave and too cocky for his own good, and he would go somewhere neither of them could follow. An attempt to divide their enemy's attention? To fight on a footing where Anakin believed he stood more of a chance?
It didn't matter. This truly was a test—to surrender his fear for Anakin, to cloak himself in the here and now, for before him was the Sith, and in person, Obi-Wan now had no doubts they faced a Sith. The athletic Iridonian before them was a howling void of rage, aggression, and malice within the Force. Anakin had defeated his attempt to flank Queen Amidala and her retinue, to pin them down with destroyer droids. Their path ahead to the viceroy would now be as clear as they could make it. Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon would guard the rear, keep this assassin from pursuit. He would not have Queen Amidala. He would go no further.
Obi-Wan attacked, channeling the Force into Ataru strikes to push the assassin back, out of the hangar, away from the queen and her companions pursuing the viceroy, away from Anakin. With his back, he tried to block Qui-Gon from the fight—this was his battle, his test. Yet even as he tried to choreograph his intentions to his master, he could feel his master's determination. He would not allow Obi-Wan to face this foe alone, and Anakin was not in Qui-Gon's thoughts at all. He was gone. There were no more fighters to pursue him. The Force would be with him, or it would not, but their task lay before them.
Obi-Wan was unsurprised when Qui-Gon circled around him, moving to press upon the assassin's other side, yet somewhere in the back of his mind, he cried out against his master's decision, cried out against Anakin's departure and their inability to follow. And somewhere in the forefront, he felt the assassin sense his feelings, felt his hateful joy at Obi-Wan's helplessness and distress. He had pushed them into this confrontation. He might have his orders, or he might not, but in the end, he did not care who he fought and killed, only that his enemies should suffer.
Between the two of them, Obi-Wan and his master had the advantage. The assassin gave way before them, pushed steadily back and toward the palace's power complex, where deep wells drilling down to house the generators for the hangar would offer a secondary advantage. Yet the assassin was equal to them. The greater reach of his saberstaff gave him more area with which to deflect their blows, and he supplemented his own slashes with powerful kicks and elbow-strikes.
There was something about his style. Obi-Wan had heard that Mace Windu had studied the ancient Sith texts to develop his own Vapaad style. Here was proof positive, for the leashed aggression Master Windu channeled into his own dueling was unleashed here. The fury of the Sith's strokes matched the screaming of his bleeding lightsaber crystal, attacking them alongside his physical press. Obi-Wan had fought in skirmishes and battles since he was twelve years old, and still he had never experienced a psychic onslaught such as this. Never had he encountered such projected, weaponized hate.
Obi-Wan and his master pressed the assassin out to the catwalks, managing to corner him on a projection of a platform without railing—this area would mostly be tenanted by maintenance droids, and Naboo had obviously saved funds on safety measures. Obi-Wan pressed their advantage, using the Force to add power to his attacks, trying to force the assassin off the platform into the generator wells down below.
Instead, the Iridonian flipped back in a stunning display of acrobatic talent, using the Force in his own right to make what would ordinarily have been a jump of only a meter or so into a chasm-spanning leap to a walkway leading onward, toward the power plant waste disposal systems. Now it was he who controlled the battle. Obi-Wan felt it, felt the danger of it: their adversary was clever as well as aggressive, yet his master was tiring. He could sense it. He leaped to follow, to once again take the brunt of the battle.
The assassin had expected it. Within two strokes, he lashed out with another brutal kick beneath the guard. This time, Master Qui-Gon was not nearby to counter on Obi-Wan's behalf. It caught Obi-Wan directly in the gut and sent him flying, off the catwalk, down toward the generator wells. Down . . . down . . .
Calling upon the Force to supply his stolen breath, Obi-Wan maneuvered in midair to land on a lower level of the power plant catwalks. He crouched, gasping, attempting to recover against the waves of sickening pain in his abdomen. Above, he heard the clash of lightsabers once again amid the other mechanical noises of the Naboo power complex. Master Qui-Gon had reengaged. Alone.
This is wrong. This is all wrong.
Anakin should have stayed back at the Temple. Qui-Gon should have stayed back at the Temple. This was always meant to be Obi-Wan's fight alone. It wasn't even meant to be a fight! He had only ever intended a reconnaissance mission for the Council, the type in which he specialized, and a fight only ever at the last possible extreme. A Jedi did not wield his lightsaber in anger. He raised it to protect others, to keep the peace. Now he and his master both fought to kill, not droids engaged in an illegal occupation but another person.
And Qui-Gon was still tiring.
Obi-Wan released his pain and confusion to the Force. He gathered his strength and leapt, up one level, two, to where Qui-Gon and the Iridonian fought above and saw with horror what had passed in the mere seconds he had been recovering.
His master still believed he held the advantage. He pressed the attack, the Iridonian defended and gave way as before, but as with the vault from the platform, the retreat was too deliberate. The assassin's blocks were easy, contemptuous, and his steps unhurried as he led Qui-Gon on and on, into the waste disposal system.
Obi-Wan raced ahead, but too late. Automated systems meant to control access to the waste systems activated. A series of laser radiation shields came on, filling the corridor. The assassin? Out past the access corridor into the waste disposal area. Qui-Gon, one shield beyond him closer to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan? Several shields back, nearly a hundred meters away, watching. All of them had time to recover, but some would recover more quickly than others.
Obi-Wan thought he saw the Iridonian smile, a smile that was more a fierce baring of black teeth in his painted face.
Qui-Gon knelt on the floor of the catwalk, marshaling his strength within the Force. Obi-Wan felt his resolve but also his weariness and his acceptance, the solidity of his master's belief the will of the Force would guide them, always.
But had this been the will of the Force? His master drawn by guilt and affection into a conflict he need never have participated in, facing a foe that had already proved beyond him alone? In the moment, Obi-Wan could not help but doubt it. Recklessness had brought them to this pass—Anakin's in stowing onto Padmé's ship; Qui-Gon's in pursuing him, spurred by Obi-Wan's half-joking remarks to him moments before the boy's escape.
Mine, in so protecting my pride pursuing the Iridonian alone I allowed him under my guard and to take me out of the fight.
Obi-Wan tried to center himself, to gather himself to run when the radiation shields deactivated. There was no control panel on this side of the bridge—he had looked.
He was still too slow.
The radiation shields went down. Obi-Wan sped ahead, sprinting all-out to rejoin the fray, but managed only to reach the area where Qui-Gon had crouched moments before when the system reactivated, blocking further intrusion from the power system into the waste disposal systems. Obi-Wan almost cried aloud as his master reengaged the enemy alone.
And the assassin had stopped retreating. Fighting only a single enemy again, Obi-Wan restrained by the radiation shields from further interference, the Iridonian no longer had any cause to hold back any measure of his skill. Obi-Wan felt his master recognize it, realize he had been drawn into this position. His master's style was purely offensive; it had been years since Qui-Gon had practiced any of the defensive forms. He needed them now against the fury of the Sith's unchecked skill.
You fight too much in the style of your master, Obi-Wan, Master Windu had told him after their recent duel. You are competent in Form IV, but it is not where your talents truly lie. Consider it before we fight again.
Obi-Wan knew it. For years, he had attempted to mimic Master Qui-Gon, to use the Force as he did and fight as he fought. It had seemed the best way to please his master, and only in the past few years had he begun to realize that they functioned better together when each of them played to his own strengths, that his were different from his master's. It was difficult to break old habits, however, and he had not studied the more defensive forms he felt more of an affinity to the way he knew he should.
His master was the more experienced duelist; he had thus far avoided many of the unconventional physical attacks the Iridonian added to his personal style. For a time, it seemed he could hold. Obi-Wan could see the sweat on Qui-Gon's brow beyond the shield, see how his movements were slower and more labored, but he had used the time to collect himself well. Somehow, he was diverting the Sith's strokes, moving his feet so he kept away from both flashing, screaming blades.
Until he wasn't. The Sith caught his master in an Ataru downstroke, seizing the hilt of his master's own lightsaber and smashing it down once, twice, three times into Master Qui-Gon's face, dazing him. Qui-Gon's guard faltered. Obi-Wan cried out, and the Sith met his eyes through the radiation shield, drinking in his despair as he brought the tip of his saberstaff around toward Qui-Gon's unprotected center.
Qui-Gon gasped and jerked, reflexively pushing his lightsaber down and deflecting the Iridonian's blade—but not enough. The tip slid away from his torso but found its mark in his lower thigh, cutting across flesh and bone, out toward the waste disposal system.
Qui-Gon screamed. His severed left leg fell to the deck, and his body fell down and back. He lost hold of his lightsaber, too shocked and injured to grip it. His eyes were a mask of pain and shock. He lay there, helpless. The Iridonian's laugh of triumph was lost, overtaken by the noise of the mechanical systems. He paused, gloating over his enemy, gloating over Obi-Wan's master, his agony, Obi-Wan's agony, his inevitable kill, and for the first time in more than a decade, Obi-Wan knew what it was to hate.
Then the radiation shields opened once again.
Obi-Wan leapt forward, screaming, throwing himself bodily into the Sith, forcing him back, away from Qui-Gon. The Sith turned his bloodshot, yellow eyes to Obi-Wan's face, and Obi-Wan felt with relish his surprise at the ferocity of Obi-Wan's own onslaught. Wasn't he a Jedi, and forbidden from using his aggression in battle?
Obi-Wan didn't care. His master, his teacher, his friend lay behind him on the ground. Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's pain as though it were his own, waves of agony, the cold, numbing shock of dismemberment. Though the Sith's lightsaber would have cauterized the major blood vessels at the moment of severance, the trauma, the shock of it could still kill his master. The Sith would get no second chance.
He battered at the Iridonian, cutting down at him, targeting the grip of the saberstaff between his hands until—victory!—he cut through the grip, fritzing out the emitters and power matrices of half the staff. Half the staff went out. The Iridonian snarled and threw away half his staff, forced to fight single-hilted. It was a different battle now.
Obi-Wan snarled back, a mirror of the Sith's own rage and anger, his own mockery. Yes, let's see how you do now, Sith. Let's see how you do now, forced to fight on even ground.
The assassin kicked, he punched, but Obi-Wan was prepared for these tricks now. He dodged them, one and all, pulling in long-forgotten techniques from his youngling days, from other forms to keep up his guard. He was winning, and he saw that knowledge reflected in the Iridonian's yellow eyes, the triumphant rage turning to a cornered, desperate variety. Obi-Wan felt the Sith's downfall, seconds away.
Then, denied recourse to the second half of his blade, denied recourse to his feet and fists, the assassin struck out within the Force. Obi-Wan was caught with a wave of it, borne back against his will, away from his lightsaber, down into the waste sinks. He caught hold of a safety light and dangled, unarmed, a meter below the sink lip.
Master! he thought, feeling Qui-Gon Jinn's faltering consciousness above, terrified the assassin would seize his moment. But Obi-Wan had angered him now, and instead of taking his chance to finish off Master Qui-Gon, he heard a click above—a booted instep colliding with his lightsaber—and it spun, silver and quite beyond his retrieval into the melting pit of the waste systems below. Obi-Wan felt it go, felt the extinguishing of his weapon and his hope. He looked up into the Iridonian's twisted expression, saw his satisfaction, his total conviction that he had won. Qui-Gon Jinn, crippled and possibly expiring on the deck, was no threat. He could savor his power and the pain of his enemies. He would watch as Obi-Wan's strength drained away from him and his arms gave way, and if Obi-Wan attempted an escape—he was unarmed. The assassin could strike him down.
Then—something. A shift in the currents of the Force. A Darkness lifted, clouds of chaos and confusion that Obi-Wan had ceased to feel even shrouding Naboo. They had been there the entirety of his visits. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt a surge of excitement, triumph, of sheer youthful power and the exuberance of winning.
The Sith felt it too. His attention wavered. He looked to the ceiling, to the invisible skies beyond, where something had just gone very wrong for his plans and the plans of his masters. And in that instant, Obi-Wan's mind became clear. He stretched out with his feelings and sensed his opportunity.
His master's saber lay abandoned beside the body of its keeper, yet Obi-Wan could still feel its presence within the Force—an ally and a friend for more than a decade, his entire apprenticeship. He closed his eyes and took hold of it with the Force, martialed his energy, and sprang.
He launched himself from the maintenance light, launched himself out of the melting pit. He seized and activated Qui-Gon Jinn's blade in midair and activated it, green and ready. He sensed his opening. He reveled in it. He brought his master's blade around, and he took his master's vengeance.
The assassin's eyes snapped to his one final time, but before his brain realized what had happened, he had fallen, bisected, into the melting pit. Obi-Wan allowed himself one instant of satisfaction before rushing to Qui-Gon's side.
Master Qui-Gon was as pale as ash. Sweat poured from his brow, and his eyes moved wildly from side to side. He gasped in pain. It was all he could do to keep hold of consciousness. "Obi—Obi-Wan . . . what have you . . . what have you done?"
"It's over, Master," Obi-Wan promised his master. "He's dead. We're safe."
"Ani—Anakin—" Qui-Gon started.
"I don't know," Obi-Wan answered. His sense of Anakin was lost now in a great wave of joy, the celebration of many hearts and souls above. There'd been a victory—the destruction of the droid-controller ship, almost certainly, but what part Anakin had played within it, where he was now and what he was doing, Obi-Wan did not know. And here, now, his master's pain pressed at him. He was fading. The shock would overcome him. "Stay with me, Master," he begged. He gripped Qui-Gon's hands in his, willing him to remain, to stay awake, to live. But his master's hands were losing their strength, growing cold and clammy in his grasp.
"The Force will be with you, Obi-Wan. Always," Qui-Gon told him, closing his eyes against the pain. Obi-Wan felt a sense of surrender in his master, a resignation.
"No," he said, diving into his mind, chasing the fading consciousness of Qui-Gon Jinn. No. You don't get to leave us yet. He gripped onto his sense of Qui-Gon, tugged him back, placing a hand on either side of his master's brow. "Sleep, master," he said, layering his voice with power in the Force. "Sleep. I've got you. I've got you."