The Best-Laid Plans
Snapping the access panel on his left leg closed, Anakin rose from the shabby but comfortable chair in his quarters and nearly tripped over Artoo, who had maintained an unbroken stream of invective since he had discovered Anakin had returned.
"I'm impressed. You haven't repeated yourself once." He awkwardly tried to maneuver around the astromech, who had crowded in close while he was seated. Artoo responded with a wordless but emphatic raspberry and refused to budge.
The droid and Leia had left Anakin's quarters shortly after the early morning meeting had broken up. The moment Leia noticed Anakin behind the counter, she had made a sharp left face into the courtyard. Kenobi had followed her, but Artoo had pursued Anakin into the tiny apartment where he had retired to perform a hasty cleaning of his prosthetics. Anakin's attempt to shut the astromech out had failed, so even this most intimate of tasks had been punctuated by the insolent droid's tart aspersions on his character and colorful commentary on his life choices.
"Let me through, Artoo. I've got things to do."
The rebuke was ineffectual; Artoo continued to trail after him. Hampered at every turn, Anakin completed his ablutions, changed his clothes, and grabbed a quick meal. By the time he returned to the shop, early sunlight outlined the door harshly, and the sand in the street was already scorching. The cool dimness inside the shop was a welcome contrast. Leia had taken a seat at the counter, while Kenobi loitered restlessly near the courtyard entrance. She twisted around to glare at Anakin, then pointedly turned her back again. He winced. A problem for another time.
Artoo still dogged his footsteps; he would have to take more definitive action or the entire revolution could fail due to an overzealous and resentful droid. He led the way to the workbench in the corner and crouched with his hand on Artoo's dome. The astromech jabbed his sparking arc welder in a clear threat. Anakin withdrew hastily.
"All right. All right. Don't get your code in a tangle. I didn't have a chance to say it a few days ago: thank you for being Leia's friend."
Artoo blatted.
"I'm sure you did protect her. I appreciate that too. She's been asking me for help for months to fix those jets."
The droid whistled.
"I see. I may not think much of Kenobi, but I'm sure he didn't let them get into that state on purpose. If you recall, you did have some pretty hard use just before…" he trailed off. "Before everything," he finished weakly.
Artoo spewed a raspberry and jabbed Anakin's knee with his arc welder. It was a relief the tool wasn't sparking this time.
"We've been over that," Anakin said crisply. "I already know you're angry. If you feel the need to tell me again, go ahead, but I'm a little short on time here."
Artoo made a few more rude comments, then subsided.
"Right. You can chew me out again later if you feel the need, but I've got a busy morning and you can't come. Stay here with Kenobi to guard Leia." From the periphery of his vision, Anakin saw Leia stiffen and start to turn her head before she returned her attention to her breakfast with deliberation.
Artoo gave a sharp whistle.
"Yes, I know you are accustomed to tagging along, but you're not an Imperial model and you'll give the ruse away."
A derisive trill.
"I don't care how stealthy you can be; Imperial models are black or gray. There's a lot more at stake than you realize, and I need you to cooperate."
Artoo interrupted him.
"I already told you—I don't have time right now. I'll tell you the plan later. But the long game is that I'm going to kill the Emperor."
The following warble was clearly a cheer.
"Your approval warms my heart," he said sardonically. "As I was saying, you'll stick out on this mission." He lifted a hand to forestall the arguments he could see were coming. "I'll make a deal with you: Don't interfere today, and you can come on the next one. It'll be right up your alley. Breaking and entering and stealing data. Remember COBALT? That old spy program from the war?" His lips twitched slightly at the droid's enthusiasm. "Dust it off while we're out. Your particular skills will be invaluable."
Artoo's dome rotated and a sequence of lights that he used to indicate pleasure fired as he tootled another inquiry. Before Anakin could reply, Kenobi approached. Anakin rose stiffly and backed up a step; the other man halted several paces away.
"I'm leaving Artoo here with you. Make sure he doesn't try to follow us." The droid splatted the binary equivalent of sticking his tongue out. Anakin ignored him. "I'll be back with Cody and the others this afternoon. You should lock up behind us."
Kenobi folded his arms, a familiar mulish expression firming his lips. "I'm coming."
"No. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not your padawan anymore. I don't need supervision."
"I know that." Kenobi rolled his eyes. Really? The man was a Jedi Master, yet he rolled his eyes like a teenager. "You might need backup."
"I do not need backup. I've survived quite well without it for the past eighteen years."
"You asked for my help. This project will never succeed if you can't at least trust me this far. Think of this as a…a practice run."
"I need you to guard Leia. She can't stay here alone on Boonta Eve."
This time Leia did turn to glare at him. Anakin was grateful she didn't try to butt into the argument. All the situation needed was a touchy teenager putting her oar in.
"She can come with us." Kenobi jutted his chin in the resolute manner that always signaled the onset of an attack of obstinacy.
"She is seventeen years old!" Anakin spoke softly but no less forcefully. "I am not taking my seventeen-year-old daughter into a potentially dangerous situation. It's bad enough she lives on this lawless ball of sand without deliberately leading her into hazardous conditions." He was almost shouting now and was pointing his finger at Kenobi's nose. Cody stared at them in surprise from the other end of the shop. Anakin dropped both his voice and his hand. "What is wrong with you, Kenobi?"
The other man firmed his lips and tightened his crossed arms, unintimidated. "I took you into dangerous situations when you were younger than she is. She knows how to defend herself. You must admit she'll be safer with all of us than here at the shop."
"That's why I want you to stay with her."
"So you trust me to guard her but not to watch your back."
"You've managed to keep her alive this long, so yes, I expect you can manage a little longer. And this isn't about watching my back. I don't need backup. I will simply arrest Semchan, stuff him on a shuttle, and set the autopilot. Where's the danger?"
"Then why are you objecting to her coming along? You're being inconsistent, Anakin."
He threw up his hands. "Oh, very well. I don't have time to argue with you. But she needs a weapon. That rifle isn't enough protection. Why doesn't she have a blaster?"
Kenobi's lip curled. "Uncivilized weapons. Here. She can carry this."
He stepped around Anakin and pressed on Artoo's dome. The panel popped open to reveal Anakin's old lightsaber. Artoo burbled softly.
Anakin paled but said nothing as Kenobi extracted it. Finally, he ground out, "All right. If you don't have blasters, you don't have blasters. But don't use those things unless there's no other choice. The last thing I need is for a report to get out that there are Jedi here."
Kenobi gestured to Leia to come nearer and held out the lightsaber to her. She shot Anakin a wary glance but complied. As the two engaged in a low-voiced conversation, Anakin approached the clones to warn them about this newest change in plans. On his way out of the shop—finally!—he said sternly to Artoo, "Lock the door and stay here. I mean it. We'll see you this afternoon."
Artoo mewled mournfully but did not cross the threshold into the street. The door slid closed behind them and the lock ground into place.
Anakin pulled his hood up, both to conceal his face and to protect his skin from the glare of the suns. He and Kenobi flanked Leia, who broadcast her reluctance to be in such close proximity to him. He did his best to ignore the hostility radiating off her.
The clones clustered behind the Jedi. Cody had taken up a position directly behind Anakin and about as far from Kenobi as he could manage. It was an awkward change from the old days. When Cody had served under Vader, Anakin hadn't had to compete for his allegiance. This was the first time Cody had willingly chosen Anakin over Kenobi, and Anakin wasn't sure how he felt about that.
It took the group perhaps ten minutes to cross town toward the weather-beaten structure that housed the Imperial garrison. The boxy metal and glass compound stuck out like a Kaminoan at a Dug convention among the adobe walls and curved domes of Mos Espa. Trust the Empire to insist on constructing such an outrageously unsuitable structure in the middle of the desert. He could hear the climate control units straining to cope with the heat from two streets away. All that metal and glass was going to make for a miserably uncomfortable half hour.
At that moment, a dozen hardened individuals emerged from adjacent alleys to block the street, hungry looks on their faces. For about the fifth time that morning, he wished Kenobi hadn't been so stubborn about tagging along. Leia would have been safer in the shop.
"No lightsabers," he muttered. Without checking his stride, he continued on his way. The gang tightened its ranks as he approached.
"Stop right there," growled a heavily tattooed Dressellian in Huttese, a blaster in one hand and a club in the other. "The boys and me want to talk to you."
Anakin did not halt until he was directly in front of the leader. "That is unfortunate," he answered in the same language. "I have no intention of talking to you. I suggest you move aside before anything gets ugly."
"Well, ain't that a funny coincidence. That's exactly what I was gonna say to you." The Dressellian was flanked by a pair of burly, three-eyed Grans, who closed the distance a little more, caressing their clubs affectionately. "This don't hafta get ugly if you just give us all yer weapons and valuables."
"So, to be clear, you are holding us up for money and weapons."
"Yep." The other members of the gang nodded. "Yer friends got some nice blasters. Might even be military issue. And three of you ain't even armed. Way I figure it, we got you outmanned and outgunned. So hand 'em all over nice an' easy, an' none of you has to get hurt."
"You have, I'm afraid, entirely misread the situation. Here's my alternative offer: you surrender, hand over your weapons to my men, and none of you has to get hurt."
The leader must have signaled, though Anakin didn't see it. The gang rushed forward in a concerted but disorganized charge, attempting to surround Anakin's group.
"Leia, get out of the way and stay down! Kenobi," he called as blaster fire erupted around them.
"Already on it," Kenobi called back.
Most of his attention remained on her until she had taken shelter in the doorway of a shop. Kenobi loped back to the melee.
Anakin's distraction was a rookie mistake, a fact he became aware of when the leader shoved a blaster against his ribs. His oxygen pump increased its output. The Dresselian said, "Now, call off your men. Tell 'em to lay down their weapons an' back away, an' I'll let you live. Any funny business, an' I pull the trigger."
"I have a better idea. You call off your men. Otherwise, someone might get hurt." Anakin stared into the hoodlum's eyes, waiting for the flicker that would signal he was about to squeeze the trigger. Right before the man's eyelid twitched, Anakin seized the blaster with the Force, crimping the barrel and breaking off the trigger. Simultaneously, he grabbed the man's wrists and began to squeeze. "Drop your weapons, or I will break your arms."
The leader was either high on spice—not an impossibility—or he was far more stupid than Anakin had assumed, because he refused to release either weapon, even the now-useless blaster, until both his arms snapped. With a howl of pain, he dropped to his knees, weapons falling to the ground. Anakin kicked them out of reach. At that moment, a last shot echoed and someone cried out. That had not sounded like a clone and was certainly not Kenobi. Fear pumping through him, he snarled, "Now, tell your men to surrender."
The order turned out to be redundant. While he grappled with the leader, the clones and Kenobi had subdued the rest of the gang. Two were dead and several wounded. None of his men looked hurt. Desperately, his eyes sought Leia. She was crouched in the doorway, clutching her shoulder. His heart plunged to his boots.
Abandoning the leader in the middle of the street, he rushed to her side, a step ahead of Kenobi. He dropped to one knee. "Leia! You're hurt."
She smiled so tightly it was almost a grimace and ground out, "It's not bad."
Ruthlessly shoving away the image of her lacerated, lifeless corpse, he called, "Med kit." Dash tossed him a small case. "Let me see." She removed her hand, and he wanted to faint. He was no stranger to injuries; objectively he recognized that this one was little more than a scratch. But it was his daughter's shoulder that was smoking, exactly as it had in his vision the night before. Again he thrust aside the memory of burns and cuts sprouting over her body as he tore the wrappings off a sterilizing solution and a bacta-soaked bandage. "This will sting," he said gruffly and sprayed the solution on the broken skin. She hissed. After tearing the fabric around the wound, he gently attached the bandage.
Kenobi placed his hand on Anakin's shoulder. Other than the brief handclasp to seal their truce, this was the first time they had touched since Kenobi had shipped out for Utapau. Anakin glanced up at him and nodded once. Kenobi squeezed his shoulder. "She'll be all right."
"Yes. I know." With bleak dread, he wondered if all the images he had seen were doomed to come true. And could he endure it if they did? He had sworn to submit to the proper order of life and death, but could he keep his Oath? A gentle breeze brushed his cheek, a dim trace of water springs on its breath. The desert itself will help you keep your vow. He bowed his head, heaving a shaky sigh. "I submit," he whispered, so softly that only Leia heard him. She looked at him curiously, but he shook his head.
"I'm sure that's sufficient pressure," Kenobi said behind him.
"What? Oh, yes, you're right." He released the pressure to pull her sleeve back together. "I'm sorry we don't have time to take you back to change. That arm will be stiff—probably itchy, too. But it's true, it's not bad." He lifted her to her feet. As soon as she was out of the doorway, Kenobi slipped her other arm around his shoulder, and she pulled away from Anakin. He suppressed a stinging ache in his chest.
She sagged for a moment, dizzy, then straightened. "I'm fine. We should go on."
Anakin studied her face, decided she was telling the truth, and turned to survey the gang groaning on the street. Anger surged through him, chasing the heels of his fear, and he clenched his fists before deliberately relaxing them. He drew a deep breath and forced himself to consider the new problem that had presented itself.
He could kick himself. In his determination to draw Palpatine's notice as flamboyantly as possible, he had lost track of a crucial detail: Tatooine was overrun with criminals. While he was hopeful that would change in the years to come, for the moment they posed an inescapable threat. If he removed the troops from Tatooine, he would also be removing the only orderly armed force on the planet. Well, there was no help for it. He would simply have to change the plan again, although he dreaded Kenobi's inevitable reaction.
"Are you able to walk on your own?" he asked Leia quietly as they covered the few steps to Cody.
"I think so," she said and did in fact let go of them both. She was slightly unsteady, so he looked to Kenobi, who nodded. Good, he could trust Kenobi to take care of her while he did what had to be done.
He raised his voice. "All right, men. The plan has changed again, and I don't have time to explain it." And there went Kenobi's disdainful eyebrow. He did not acknowledge it. "I'm not sure we'll make it to the track on time as it is. We will not be arresting the governor—I need the troops. We are conducting an undercover sting operation and you are elite commandos supporting my mission. You two—" he pointed to Leia and Kenobi "—are operatives, unnamed and unknown." His eyes swept the group. "If I appear to regress, remember it is an act. Don't blow our cover. Now let's get these men up and escort them to the garrison."
With some difficulty, they hauled the remaining ten gang members to their feet. Anakin grabbed two blasters and presented them to Kenobi and Leia. "I know you don't like them, but it's necessary for the moment," he told the old Jedi. To Leia he said, "Do you know how this works? It's very similar to your long rifle." She nodded and reluctantly accepted it.
Once he was assured that all the prisoners were under control, he resumed his place at the head of the group, wrestling with the anger that still simmered under his veneer of control. He would be walking a very fine line here. "Desert, help me," he whispered as they crossed the open square in front of the garrison.