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"Master!" Anakin released Padmé's hand and dashed toward the street onto which Obi-Wan had turned. The whistle and ping of lasers grew louder. Dread gripped Anakin's thoughts. He shoved it aside.
Rounding the corner, Anakin skidded to a halt. Obi-Wan hunkered beside a burned out speeder turned on its side. Hampered by his position, he warded off a hail of fire from battle droids advancing through the rubble of a ruined building on the left.
A red beam whizzed past Anakin's face. He ducked and glanced right. Droids approached Obi-Wan from that side as well. One had noticed him.
Obi-Wan yelled, "Get out of the line of fire, Padawan!"
Another shot narrowly missed Anakin. He didn't need any other encouragement. He retreated to the corner where Padmé was crouched and peering at the battle, blaster in hand. He touched her arm. "Pick off as many as you can, but retreat if they head this way."
She gave him a suspicious glance. "Where will you be?"
"I'm going to circle around and attack from behind."
"Be careful."
Anakin didn't answer. He was already running. Five meters along, a door was wedged partly open by debris. He clambered over and into the shell of what was once someone's home. Chunks of ceiling and broken furniture blocked his path; he vaulted from one heap to the next, never slowing to get caught by the miniature avalanches he set off. One final leap carried him to the top of a dilapidated wall.
Below him, the last of a dozen battle droids were marching into the street from the ruin where they had lain in wait. They poured a steady stream of laser fire into the blackened speeder protecting Obi-Wan's back.
Anakin opened himself to the Force and hurdled from the four-meter wall, the Force enhancing his leap. He hit the ground and rolled. His lightsaber snapped to life as he sprang to his feet, the first swing cutting down two droids. He spun and danced, slicing his way down the line of mechanical enemies, his saber a blur, the Force flooding through him.
The remaining droids noticed his presence and wheeled to attack. Anakin somersaulted back and up, landing on a toppled archway. His lightsaber wove a green shield. Two droids fell from deflected shots. Then another. He flung out his arm, sending the last three droids smashing into a semi-collapsed wall.
Anakin peered at the other company of droids, just in time to see the last one jerk and collapse. He powered down his blade and blew out his breath.
A hush shrouded the street. Then Padmé burst from cover, darting toward Obi-Wan. Anakin's heart tripped. Master! He reached Obi-Wan before her and knelt, his search for injuries aborted by Obi-Wan's fierce expression. Anger brushed Anakin's senses, causing a fissure of alarm. Was Obi-Wan angry at him?
"Are you okay, Master?"
"Fine." The word was bitten off. Sharp.
"You are not fine," Padmé said from beside Anakin. "I saw you get hit."
At the stubborn look seeping into Obi-Wan's eyes, Padmé sighed and directed a pointed glance to where he clutched his left arm. She crouched, laid her blaster on the ground, and peeled Obi-Wan's fingers back. Blood encirlced a gash in his sleeve.
Trying to be gentle, Padmé wedged her fingers into the tear and opened it to her inspection. The laser wound was shallow and had already stopped bleeding. Above that injury, a second, older one, drew her eye. From his fight with Dooku, she realized.
Sitting back on her heels, she said, "We need to clean that, make sure infection doesn't set in. How did it happen? You seemed to be fending off the attack."
"A shot pierced the speeder." A heavy scowl marred Obi-Wan's brow.
"That could happen to anyone," Padmé remarked.
His voice dropped. "It's less than I deserve."
The ire in that declaration startled Padmé. She exchanged a worried glance with Anakin and studied Obi-Wan. His expression was distant. He was angry with himself, she realized.
"I don't understand, Master." Anakin said.
Obi-Wan blinked and glanced from Padmé to Anakin and back. He pushed to his feet and hooked his lightsaber on his belt. Padmé watched him scan the street. He said, "I reacted exactly as Dooku wanted. I let where I was distract me."
Padmé and Anakin rose at the same time. Padmé said, "Do you mean Dooku chose this place as his base because he knew it would bother you?" When Obi-Wan nodded, she said, "But that means he knew you would come. How could he know that?"
Obi-Wan peered at the devastation ahead, the scarred landscape, searching for signs of further trouble. "Dooku was once Yoda's padawan. He knows his master well." His thoughts blinked back to Geonosis. 'Master Kenobi, you disappoint me. Yoda holds you in such high esteem.' He yanked himself to the present. Apparently, Qui-Gon and Dooku had discussed Qui-Gon's various missions - along with his padawan.
And his padawan's mistakes.
His betrayals.
Halting his thoughts, Obi-Wan reached inward, toward his center of calm. One could not change the past; one could only learn from it. Melida/Daan was the past. Qui-Gon had forgiven him and had taken him back.
But still ... the memory of the way Qui-Gon had flinched when Obi-Wan had told him he was staying on Melida /Daan - Qui-Gon's visible but silent struggle, his pain, the way he had refused to look at him, had turned away without a word - that memory rose to haunt Obi-Wan anew. The remembered pain washed through him and he closed his eyes, seeking to release that hurt to the Force, seeking to weave the Light's comfort around him.
A touch caused him to start. Padmé dabbed at his burn with a med-pad. He winced at the fire the contact awakened. He stood motionless while Anakin handed her a small roll of gauze from the med-kit compartment on his belt. Without speaking, Padmé wrapped the bandage around Obi-Wan's arm, tunic and all. Her silence was ... soothing. It spoke of understanding, of friendship.
Anakin said, "How could Dooku know our route to know where to place an ambush?"
Obi-Wan replied, "Likely, he has droids positioned throughout the city."
Padmé said, "Then we will need to ... focus on the mission."
Her gentle chiding caused Obi-Wan to send her a wry glance. "You should know I don't appreciate having my own words flung back in my face. But your point is taken. Dooku will not find me so easily distracted a second time."
She smiled. "Of course not."
Obi-Wan rotated his shoulder and nodded to himself. The burning was already fading. A mere surface wound, unlike the one above it. Dooku had sliced deeply when he had struck. The healers had reconstructed the damaged muscles, voicing their disapproval when Obi-Wan had refused cosmetic repair. Some things were not meant to be forgotten.
He started down the street. "Keep your senses open, Padawan. We must be cautious."
"Yes, Master."
Obi-Wan heard the mild reproach in that reply. Again deserved. After all, it wasn't Anakin who had walked into a trap. He lengthened his stride, unclipping his lightsaber as he went, relishing its familiar grip, its weight and the way it felt like an extension of himself.
They proceeded down smashed avenues, skirting craters and collapsed buildings. Anakin and Obi-Wan let Padmé keep to the center of the roadways while they spread out, alert to the slightest suggestion of danger, eyes constantly flicking over the ruins. Nothing stirred. The only sound was the whisper of Padmé's flightsuit.
During the next hour, the totality of the devastation began to wear on Obi-Wan's mind. He had heard about the battle that had leveled Zehava, about country-dwelling Melida and Daan sweeping out of the hills, each intent on reclaiming the city and renewing the feud, but seeing it ... Smelling air still acrid after seventeen years. Feeling the rubble of broken lives beneath his boots.
How many of his friends - people who had dedicated their lives to establishing peace by whatever means necessary - had died during that final attack?
Not Nield. Obi-Wan knew his fear of seeing his friend dead in that fighter's cockpit had been irrational, for Nield still occupied a seat in the unified government. Obi-Wan blinked. His old friend had become a politician. He glanced at Padmé, aware of the nudge in the Force. The momentary guilt. Not all politicians were faithless.
But she had broken faith, his faith, even as she had kept Anakin's. Could he fault her for remaining loyal to the one she loved? As Nield had remained loyal to Cerasi, even in her death.
He glanced around, seeing Zehava in a new light. Perhaps Nield had pushed for the ruined city to remain untouched, a testimony against the deadly forces unleashed by the desire for power. Zehava stood as one massive Hall of Evidence - a scar to remind the people to be vigilant against future evil. Like his own scar from Dooku.
Approaching a corner, Obi-Wan held up his hand, halting Anakin and Padmé, who were slightly behind him. He motioned for them to join him. They did, searching his face with curious eyes.
He whispered, "This is Glory Street. Our destination is a plaza, two blocks west. The Hall of Evidence is a long, low black building, no windows, only one entrance."
"It sounds like another trap," Anakin said.
Obi-Wan conceded the point with a single nod. "Nevertheless, that is the location of Dooku's base." He eyed Padmé. "I would prefer it if you waited here, Senator. The risk -"
"Is mine to take, Master Kenobi."
He studied her a moment longer, seeing her brown eyes blacken with determination. He said, "Very well. Anakin -"
"I will guard her with my life, Master."
"I expected no less. I was going to say, watch our backs." Obi-Wan thumbed the control on his lightsaber, but didn't ignite it. "I'll take the lead."
Obi-Wan expanded his knowing as he searched through the Force, mildly surprised to find the way before them devoid of life forces except for a few skittering rodents. Droids, though hard to detect, were easy to hear. If you were listening. He strode into the middle of Glory Street, mindful of every sound.
The plaza came into view. It was remarkably untouched. Obi-Wan's mind folded in on itself. Again, he saw the forces aligned against each other. The Young and the Elders, led by Nield and Wahutti. One Cerasi's friend; the other her father. Again, he saw her popping up through a grate in the fountain and running toward the Hall, red hair flying, shouting for them to stop. Through the tunnel of time he saw himself running toward her, saw the shots ripping into her body, saw himself cradling her as she died.
He slowed to a halt. Oh, Cerasi, why did peace require such a high price?
"Master? Do you want me to take the lead?"
Obi-Wan scowled and stared at his lightsaber. "No, Padawan."
"You seem ... distracted."
Inhaling slowly, Obi-Wan chose not to answer. Anakin was right, of course. He scrutinized the plaza, seeing nothing but dust, sensing no menace in the lingering melancholy of this place. His memories seemed a bigger threat to him than Dooku at this moment. He inhaled again, gathering glimmering threads of the Force, finding the serenity he needed, sensing his padawan's puzzlement.
Staring at the door that led down into the Hall of Evidence, Obi-Wan perceived what they would find. He suspected Dooku was greatly amused by this game he was playing.
"Master?" Anakin resisted the urge to shake his master, but only because he sensed Obi-Wan touching the Force. Instead, he lowered his own shields for a moment and did something he had not done in a long while: he reached out through their master-padawan bond with a pulse of concern.
Obi-Wan tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "Proceed, my young padawan."
Anakin shared an odd glance with Padmé.
Obi-Wan said, "It's empty. Let's see what Dooku has left behind for us to find."
"Empty?" Anakin's shields snapped back into place as irritation spiked. "Then why did you lead us on this little chase?"
"Because I only just realized it."
"So ... what was this? Some game designed to taunt you because of whatever happened here when you were young? A message ... meant for you?"
Obi-Wan arched one brow. "Possibly."
"Yes, is what you mean. You weren't even the one looking for him. We -" Anakin broke off and stared at his master. His nostrils flared as knowing seeped into Obi-Wan's eyes. He lifted his chin, defiance surging.
"We." Obi-Wan folded his arms. Classic lecture position. "You talked Padmé into financing a search for Dooku."
Anakin knew the drill. Let your master describe your offense without judgment - even though his posture screamed condemnation.
"Yes, Master." Anakin narrowed his gaze. Now he was supposed to be thankful for a thinly disguised lecture-cum-tirade designed to aid his own journey and enlightenment. He knew them all by heart. Rather than wait for this one - sure to be the set-aside-self-and-focus-on-service talk - or invite more unbiased descriptions of his shortcomings, Anakin wheeled and stalked toward the entrance to the Hall of Evidence.
He jogged down the wide steps and entered the building without pause, trusting in Obi-Wan's assessment. He tapped a control panel by the door, surprised when banks of overhead lights flickered to life. Whatever this Hall had been previously, it was now one big, deserted control center, complete with hastily abandoned workstations and overturned chairs.
Anakin zeroed in on the raised dais at the far end of the room and paced toward it. In the center of the platform, an ornate, old-fashioned desk squatted like a sleeping beast. Its wooden surfaces were imbued with echoes of life-force, an island of warmth in a sea of cold, lifeless metal. He stepped onto the dais and ran his fingers along its fluted edge, then sat in its equally out-dated pedestal chair. Dooku's chair. He could feel it.
Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, watching him like he was a mynoch chewing on a power cable. His voice echoed off the polished black walls. "I wasn't aware I had dismissed you, Padawan."
"I am serving the Jedi, Master. I'm tracking down a criminal who needs to be brought to justice."
A pause and Obi-Wan said, "Could I at least deliver the lecture before you respond to it?" He stepped inside, glancing around, his face bland to the point of being droid-like. Anakin knew he was remembering what this place had been and cataloguing the changes.
Padmé entered and palmed the door control. It swished closed. She scanned the room, her expression verging on frustration.
Obi-Wan started to stroll around, his manner alert, as if he expected the chairs to rise up and attack him. He halted and met Anakin's gaze. "It's your motivation that concerns me, Padawan."
His motivation was his business. Why should Obi-Wan care so long as the results were satisfactory? Anakin scowled as he felt a quiet prod, a ripple in the Force. He bent his head and started searching the desk drawers. He sensed Obi-Wan continuing his search of the workstations, thankful his master wasn't pushing the issue.
It was this place ... it had a strange effect on Obi-Wan, one that caused turmoil to leak outward from his aura. Anakin wasn't sure if he felt concern, or relief that his master's focus lie elsewhere for a change.
Anakin's fingertips bumped something in the bottom drawer. He touched the multi-faceted object, then took it from its nest, keeping it out of sight as he examined it. A holocron. Anakin stared. An encrypted Jedi encyclopedia. He held it loosely, not wanting to activate the hologram of the gatekeeper. Had Count Dooku taken this from the Archives?
A thought sent a small shockwave through Anakin's mind. Perhaps Dooku hadn't stolen this holocron; perhaps he had made it.
Obi-Wan glanced up sharply. He stared at Anakin. The Force vibration, not even a ripple, was gone now. He was certain it had come from his padawan.
"Is something wrong, Anakin?"
The padawan shifted, then raised his head. "No, Master. I just had a ... disturbing sense of Dooku's presence." He stood and strode toward Obi-Wan, his almost perpetual scowl in place - until his gaze shifted to Padmé and his countenance cleared.
Obi-Wan shook his head and crouched by a chair where he thought he'd spotted something. He found a data-disc, half hidden under the leg. He twirled it through his fingers, trying to decide why this disk concerned him.
Padmé hopped onto the ledge beside him, her frustration evident in the way she clenched the edge of the countertop. Anakin joined her, laying his arm across her shoulders. Such casual possessiveness. Obi-Wan turned from it and sank into a cross-legged position as he continued to finger the disk and puzzle over it.
"Tell me, Master." Anakin's tone was conversational, in a studied sort of way. "What happened here that bothers you so much?"
Obi-Wan's fingers froze. Did he owe his padawan an explanation? He resumed fiddling with the disk, eyes fixed on it. He felt a familiar nudge, as light as ever, not demanding, only prompting, always giving him the choice. Follow or turn away.
The Force swirled. Anakin had reached out through the master-padawan bond in the plaza, for the first time in months. Obi-Wan needed to give something in return. But ... The shadow hovered by his shoulder, whispering darkness, breathing deceit. Betrayal. Unforgivable.
You forgave me, Master.
Obi-Wan inhaled and opened himself to the Light. In a timeless moment that had to have lasted several, the truth revealed itself. Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. He flowed to his feet and stood before Anakin, searching his padawan's closed features. Anakin returned the stare without blinking.
Folding his arms, Obi-Wan said, "I betrayed my master."
Interest sparked in Anakin's eyes. He straightened. "You ... betrayed Qui-Gon? How?"
"I became one of the Young. I thought I had found a cause worth living for, friends worth dying for. When he left Melida/Daan, I refused to go. I gave him my lightsaber."
"Your lightsaber," Anakin whispered. Louder, he said, "But that's a Jedi's life. To give it up ..."
Obi-Wan clenched his jaw. Even now, it was hard to say. "Is to cease being a Jedi."
Turmoil churned in his padawan's gaze, and Obi-Wan knew he was wondering how he would be able to give up his lightsaber. Something the Council would certainly call on him to do if he did not agree to annul his marriage.
Padmé said, "What happened?"
Obi-Wan tucked the data-disc into his belt and gave his beard a single stroke. "At first it was ... exhilarating. I was part of something bigger than myself, something important. But then, attitudes began to shift. Bit by bit, I was isolated by the Young, rejected because I was neither Melida nor Daan. Only Cerasi stood by me. I existed in greyness. I could barely touch the Force. For the first time I knew what it was to be alone. When Cerasi was killed ..." Obi-Wan took a soothing breath and felt the Force upholding him. "I was devastated. I realized I had turned my back on the one thing that was truly bigger than my selfish desire to belong, the one thing truly worth committing to."
"The Jedi," Padmé said.
With a nod, Obi-Wan continued, "I had to humble myself to ask the Jedi for help. The Young's victories were decaying; the situation was spiraling out of control. Yoda sent Qui-Gon back. When he handed me my lightsaber, the Force rushed to me and welcomed me home."
"He forgave you? Just like that?" Incredulity laced Anakin's tone.
"No. He neither forgave me nor accepted me back as his padawan. Not for quite some time." Obi-Wan squared himself. Stance wide, he let the truth shine forth in his eyes as he held his padawan's gaze. The truth he had only just realized. "Betrayal is often a killing blow to a relationship, my young padawan."
Anakin searched his master's face, and Obi-Wan saw understanding alight. "You think I betrayed you, don't you, Master?"
Of all the feelings Obi-Wan had been struggling with since discovering Anakin's secret, the one that had hit him the hardest was one he hadn't even identified. Until now. "You did, Padawan. And not just me. You betrayed the Jedi and all to which you claim to have committed yourself."
Ire waged war with the desire for control in Anakin's features. "That's not true. All I did was marry the woman I love. I'm still committed to the Jedi."
"Really? You went behind my back. You deceived me with months of silence. You knew of the prohibition, and you willfully defied it. You chose the path of disobedience, my padawan, just as I did so many years ago." You hurt me, Padawan, as I hurt my master. And now I know why it was so hard for Qui-Gon to forgive me.
How could he have been so blind? All the pain he had felt upon facing the place of his past betrayal had been amplified by his own sense of being betrayed by Anakin. It was so obvious, and yet, so difficult to move past. Anakin hadn't meant to hurt him, any more than he had meant to hurt Qui-Gon. He knew he had to forgive his padawan, or the hurt would fester in his own soul, mutating into resentment, or possibly something darker.
Obedience is a path we choose. Obi-Wan hesitated for a second, then chose to forgive Anakin. The feeling would follow, it was enough to know the deed was done.
Something approaching defiance entered Anakin's eyes, making Obi-Wan sigh inwardly with frustration. He released the emotion into the Force - he could only control his own reactions, not his padawan's.
Anakin said, "And will you forgive me, Master?"
He doesn't ask, he only wants to know if I will give. He feels no remorse. Obi-Wan arched one brow. Now was not the time to reveal his decision. "Forgiveness is the most precious gift one can receive. As my master before me, I cannot give it lightly. When trust is broken, it is difficult to rebuild, fragile and more easily destroyed a second time. Perhaps the better question is: are you willing to help me rebuild the trust between us?"
Anakin slid to his feet. "If it means having to do everything your way, then I'm not sure. I'll have to think about it, Master."
Obi-Wan had done all he could do for the moment. He felt at peace with what had transpired. "Fair enough." He glanced at Padmé, who had listened to their exchange with extreme attentiveness. The understanding in her brown eyes gave him hope that all was not lost. "Now, perhaps it is time we had a little talk with Count Dooku."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Anakin said. "He could be anywhere in the galaxy. We don't even know where to begin looking."
Obi-Wan took the data-disc and flipped it through the air to his padawan. "Yes, we do. He left us an invitation. He wants to be found, my young padawan. I would hate to disappoint him."
Anakin caught the disk and eyed it with a predatory gleam. He slid it into a pouch on his belt and nodded. "Let's go, then." He paced toward the door.
Obi-Wan gave Padmé a short bow and waved his hand. "After you, Senator."
She dropped to the floor and peered at him for a few seconds. "Thank you, Master Kenobi."
Obi-Wan watched her walk away. He had the feeling she had just thanked him for his honesty, not for his manners. He smiled and followed her. Anakin was already at the door controls, impatience clouding his face. Padmé stopped in front of the door and gave him a smile. Anakin grinned and palmed the controls.
Over the swish, Obi-Wan heard a familiar, whir-click. Droids. He yelled, "No!" as he dived at Padmé.
Obi-Wan hit Padmé from behind like a runaway speeder at the same second twin bolts of agony burrowed into her thigh.
Anakin screamed, "Padmé!"
Jedi arms wrapped around her; she hit the floor, the wind driven from her lungs. Over the roaring in her ears she heard Obi-Wan yell, "The door!"
"There's no lock!"
"Fry it!"
Padmé wheezed, desperate to breathe. Finally, air rushed back into her body and she gasped. Her body shuddered, and arms held her more tightly. The spots before her eyes began to fade, revealing a scowling Obi-Wan. Fire consumed her left leg.
Metallic thudding matched the pounding in her skull.
The scene flashed through her mind: turning from Anakin, catching a nanosecond's glimpse of droids before Obi-Wan had tackled her. He moved slightly, causing pain to flash outwards from her leg. She bit back a moan as the spots blanked her vision again. The agony was building as the initial shock wore off.
"It won't hold them long, Master. I'll take Padmé. How is she?" Anakin said.
"Her leg is injured. It will have to wait until we get out of here."
Padmé felt extra hands slide under her. Anakin. Obi-Wan's hands withdrew. Anakin lifted her, bumping her leg. She screamed.
The pain engulfed her, sucking her into a black hole.
"Master, Padmé fainted." Anakin trembled at the power of the fear rising up, threatening to overtake him.
"That's likely for the best, Padawan. We have to move quickly."
Obi-Wan spun away from the sharp look Anakin shot toward him, and headed toward the center of the room, pivoting, searching. Anakin blew out his dread, eyes fixed on Obi-Wan, willing himself to draw strength from the ... stillness ... radiating outwards from his master. If there were ever a time he needed Obi-Wan's infuriating calm, it was this moment. He couldn't bear it if they couldn't save Padmé. He held her close and moved farther into the room, away from the relentless hammering on the door. It was beginning to buckle. They didn't have much time.
"Here!" Obi-Wan leaped onto a counter and stared at the ceiling. "It appears I'll owe yet another escape to a ventilation system. One has to wonder if they were a Force-inspired invention."
Anakin glared at his master. "I don't care! Hurry up."
As he ignited his lightsaber, Obi-Wan gave Anakin an enigmatic glance. "No snide comments in the face of danger, my padawan? Don't you feel like engaging in aggressive negotiations any more today?"
"No! I want to get Padmé to safety!"
"As do I, young one." He flicked his wrist four times, severing a bolt securing each corner. Obi-Wan stepped aside as the grate cover fell away.
Anakin peered upwards. "Where does it lead?"
"Straight to the roof, apparently. I see another grate and what appears to be a metal canopy above that. I need you to lift me so I can cut through."
Nodding, Anakin closed his eyes, already reaching for the Force. Obi-Wan's Force signature glowed strongly in his mind. Without hesitating, Anakin manipulated the Force, holding and lifting his master through his thoughts.
"Not too quickly, Padawan, or you'll slam me into the grate and you'll have two unconscious people on your hands."
Anakin pursed his lips and slowed the rate of ascent.
"Good. Stop."
While he concentrated on holding his master mid-air, part of him mind catalogued the hum of the lightsaber, the battering of the door, Padmé's heartbeat. A moment later, a clatter sounded. And then another.
"I'm through. Boost me just a little higher."
Anakin pushed with the Force. His master's startled yell made him cringe. Perhaps he had used a little too much ... force.
"Send Padmé up, a little gentler than you did me, if you please."
Squinting upward, Anakin saw a disheveled Obi-Wan eyeing him. "Sorry, Master." Behind him, metal creaked. He didn't look, but concentrated on levitating Padmé's limp body toward his master. She rose, rotating slowly, her head lolling back and arms dangling. Anakin stared, refusing to let the worry overwhelm him, refusing to lose his grip on the Force.
He was shaking when Obi-Wan reached down and grabbed her, hauling her onto the roof. Blaster fire spun him around, lightsaber already in hand. He deflected several shots from the single droid firing through a crack where the door was wedged open.
"Come, Padawan!"
Anakin hopped onto the counter and repulsed two more shots. He gleaned Force tendrils, latching onto them and jumping straight up. He shot through the vent and twisted to land on the roof beside Obi-Wan.
"What now, Master?"
"I've already alerted Artoo by comlink. He's traced our exact co-ordinates through the link and should be lifting off right about now." Obi-Wan tugged his sash from beneath his belt and began to tie it around Padmé's leg.
It wrenched Anakin's gut to see Padmé hurt. He turned from the sight to peer at the sky. Since his master was already dealing with the wound, he paced toward the edge of the roof.
Obi-Wan shouted, "Anakin, no!"
Three blaster bolts whined past Anakin's head and he ducked. He lifted his chin to peer over the edge, drawing another flurry of shots. "I take it the building is surrounded."
"A safe assumption, Padawan."
"Dooku needs to make up his mind. Either he wants us to face him or he wants us dead."
"I have a strong feeling it's both. He will be disappointed if we let a few droids kill us off, since he wants to do the job himself, but he wants a worthy challenge, so he's testing us."
Anakin scuttled back and knelt by Padmé. He held her hand and glanced at her wounded leg. A circlet of blood stained Obi-Wan's sash. "And what do you want, Master?"
"Oh, I want Dooku to be disappointed - about a great many things. But this isn't one of them. I would rather not be defeated by his mechanical puppets."
Anakin listened to the clattering below them. The droids were trying to find some way to follow them up the shaft. He scanned the horizon, anxiety nibbling at his resolve. He was just about to complain about Artoo's slowness when he spotted the yacht approaching low, with no running lights. Anakin smiled. Artoo was a quick learner.
The perimeter droids started peppering the yacht with laser fire as soon as it appeared over the plaza. The pinging grew louder as the ship hovered above them, repulsors hissing, and the ramp squealed open.
Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and motioned for Anakin to get Padmé to the ship. He stayed close, re-directing several blaster shots that ricocheted off the hull toward them. The ramp floated two meters above the roof. Anakin grabbed the Force and leaped, charging up the ramp the instant he touched it. A laser bolt followed him into the ship, zipping past his metal arm so close it singed cloth.
Behind him, Obi-Wan shouted, "Take off, Artoo!"
While Obi-Wan headed toward the cockpit, Anakin hurried into Padmé's cabin and laid her out on the narrow bunk. He brushed loose tendrils of hair from her eyes, bent over and kissed her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open. Eyes dark with pain. Anakin channeled slender threads of the Force into her body, an unraveled skein of warmth and comfort. The tension in her limbs and face eased a little. She mouthed, I love you.
The engines revved, carrying them up and away from Zehava.
Good riddance, thought Anakin. Dooku had yet another thing to answer for.
The droid tilted its head, humming as it did when receiving a transmission. It clicked and straightened its head. "My lord, the ground troops report that all three targets escaped. Their ship is now space bound."
Yan Dooku peered out the bubble windscreen of the cockpit at the variegated browns of Melida/Daan. Nothing less than he expected. He hoped Kenobi had appreciated his ... homecoming.
"Jump when ready, FA-4."
"Yes, my lord." The droid pilot accelerated away from the planet. A minute later the ship made the jump to hyperspace.
For several moments the mesmerizing tunnel of light captured Yan's gaze. Again, curiosity arose as to why Master Sidious had insisted on his leaving that holocron behind. Kenobi wouldn't hesitate to turn it over to the Council to be destroyed. He suspected the reason revolved around that whelp Kenobi was training, though he wasn't sure he cared to speculate. Still ... someday he would need an apprentice. If Skywalker's impulsiveness could be tamed, he might make a suitable candidate.
Yan rose and informed the pilot he would be in the lounge. He entered the regrettably cramped space and stretched out on the only acceleration couch. What the ship lacked in size it made up for in speed. And he wanted to arrive at their destination well before Kenobi so he could prepare a proper welcome.
It had been brilliant of his assassin to time that courier's murder to coincide with the arrival of a Jedi. Either that, or the Force had truly been with him. It had assured Kenobi's involvement as nothing else could. Yoda was so predictable. The friendship between Senator Amidala and Kenobi had guaranteed Yoda would send his favorite pet on this mission.
A pet for a pet. Yan smiled. How amusing that Master Sidious still harbored anger over a decade old, especially since that wrath was not aimed at him. Obi-Wan Kenobi had no idea how powerful an enemy he had made that fateful day on Naboo.
The fool. Even when he had been told the truth, Kenobi had denied it, clinging to the notion of a Republic that no longer existed. A Republic where peace and justice ruled. That dream was dead - and no good men existed with strength enough to resurrect it. Power came to the powerful, and what made one powerful rarely allowed for goodness.
Now Kenobi ... was the epitome of a good Jedi, believing without question whatever his masters told him. Acting without question, just as the Jedi demeaned themselves by letting the Senate dictate to them. Yan snorted. How his padawan had ever trained one such as Kenobi was beyond him. It had to have driven Qui-Gon mad, faced with such rigidity day after day, though Yan didn't know - Qui-Gon had spoken about his padawan very little in those last few years, except to say that Kenobi would make a good Jedi. As if that were a compliment. The fact that Kenobi was unable to think or act outside his little Jedi box was reason enough to see him dead.
It was reason to see most Jedi dead.
Brave, but foolish. That seemed to have become the unofficial Jedi motto. And Kenobi was about to live by it yet again. He had to know he was walking into a trap. But walk in, he would.
He would live by it - and die by it.
