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Anakin sat cross-legged on his bunk, aware of the faint vibrations of the hyperspace engine. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the ceiling, letting the thrum wash over him, soothe him.
The engine was running smoothly because of him - a fact that gave him great satisfaction. He was the one who had discovered and repaired the cylinder that had been creating a hiccup in the energy cycle. Of course, Obi-Wan's praise had been served up with a reminder that it was Anakin's landing that had damaged the ship in the first place, so it was only right that Anakin repair the problem. As if Obi-Wan would rather Anakin had plowed into boulders than greenery - that would have taken care of any question concerning any repairs.
Before the rising irritation could gain a foothold in his mind, Anakin shunted the feeling aside and emptied his mind of everything except the engine's hum. After a few moments, he expanded his knowing beyond himself, noting Padmé's quiet aura in her cabin - she was still sleeping - then moving on to sense his master's Force signature in the cockpit.
The way the Force enhanced Obi-Wan's presence, Anakin knew he was meditating. Anakin opened his eyes and stared at the hatch. A shiver of tension passed through his abdomen. He willed himself to calmness.
Anakin reached out and dimmed the cabin lights to minimum. He withdrew the palm-sized object from his med-kit and set it on the pillow.
A Jedi holocron. A dozen questions swirled to the surface of Anakin's mind; there was only one way to answer his curiosity. His hand hesitated over the crystalline vault of Jedi knowledge as he was assailed by misgivings. He knew what Obi-Wan would expect him to do - hand it over like an obedient padawan and apologize for concealing its existence from him.
He would. Anakin took a slow breath. He would hand it over to Obi-Wan as soon as his master ceased his meditations. His hand quivered. It was only a holocron. What harm could there be in activating it, just to find out which Jedi master had created it?
No harm. After all, knowledge was a cornerstone of Jedi teaching.
Anakin activated the holocron and sat back, palms resting on his thighs. The holocron began to glow from within, like stardust. A small blue figure flickered as static ran through it, then consolidated and hovered above the holocron. A ghostly miniature of Count Dooku, cape fluttering, hands loose at his sides.
Turn it off.
The face of the man that had taken his right arm captivated Anakin. Even as a holo, Dooku exuded a commanding presence. The tension returned. Anakin's heartbeat accelerated slightly, like a speeder merging into traffic.
Turn it -
"Greetings, Jedi. I am Yan Dooku, the gatekeeper of knowledge. Before you pose a question, consider this: there is no Light or Dark Side. The Force is one vast spectrum of power. The Dark Side is merely a term frightened Jedi leaders have created to infect others with their fear of powers they do not understand. Ask yourself if you are one of the weak-minded who quails at the thought of such power, or if you are one of the few truly courageous enough to grasp all the Force has to offer. If you are the former, crawl back into your decaying Temple and continue hiding from the truth - I want nothing to do with you."
Dooku's holo fell silent and seemed to regard Anakin with eyes that missed nothing. Anakin's pulse hammered erratically.
Yoda's voice whispered, "The Dark Side, I sense in you, Count Dooku." Anakin couldn't remember ever hearing Yoda say that; where had that thought come from? The words seemed to bounce off rock, like in a cave. Geonosis? He had been unconscious while Yoda had battled Dooku.
Confusion rippled through Anakin's mind, but still he sat, transfixed by the blue figure. The Dark Side. What if Dooku was right and Yoda wrong? His breathing sounded loud in his ears.
Sudden echoes of anguish tore through his soul. I will be the most powerful Jedi ever. I promise you.
Power.
Anakin's fingers dug into his knees. The moment stretched as he stared at the holo, still silent, waiting for a first question. He had to focus on his hand to get it to lift, to reach out, to deactivate the holocron. His breath whooshed out as Dooku's figure disappeared. He covered his face with shaking hands and strove to regain his composure. Droplets of sweat tickled his fingertips.
Dooku's words ricocheted through his thoughts. To grasp all the Force has to offer.
No. Anakin lifted his head. No. He tucked the holocron back into his belt pouch and rose from the bed. A second of vertigo tremored through him. He blew out his breath and started for the door.
Down the corridor, toward the cockpit, Anakin's steps slowed as he passed Obi-Wan's cabin. He halted in front of Padmé's door and rested his palm against it. He closed his eyes as uncertainty flared anew.
He reached toward the door panel. He needed to talk to Padmé, to figure out -
"Padawan?"
Anakin froze as Padmé's door slid into the wall, his gaze swallowed by the shadowy cabin, unable to penetrate the gloom.
"Padawan? What are you doing?"
Was that a hint of accusation in Obi-Wan's tone? Anakin's nostrils flared as he sought his center of calm. He turned his head to see his master, stance wide, arms crossed, eyes ... concerned? No, he had to be mistaken.
Obi-Wan stepped forward.
Anakin said, "It's not what you think, Master. I just wanted to ... check on Padmé, and talk to her if she was awake." His fingers brushed against the med-kit pouch on his belt and lingered.
Obi-Wan's blue-grey eyes turned speculative. He closed the distance between them. "I believe you, Padawan. I was meditating and felt a slight disturbance in the Force." He laid his hand on Anakin's shoulder and Anakin stifled a wince. Obi-Wan spoke softly. "I know you are worried about her, but you mustn't let that worry control you. Concentrate. Scan her life-force. The bacta ointment is speeding her healing, as are your Force ministrations. She will likely be up and about tomorrow."
"I ... I know, Master." Anakin looked away. "It's just that -" The holocron seemed to be burning a hole through his belt. If he didn't speak, it would burn right through and drop to the floor. "There's something -"
I will be the most powerful Jedi ever.
Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin's shoulder. "Relax, my young padawan. Discharge your fear into the Force."
... infecting others with their fear ...
"I'm not afraid, Master. I'm not afraid of anything."
An amused smile settled on Obi-Wan's lips. "None of us are immune to the effects of fear, Anakin. It's what we do with it when we feel its touch that matters. We must acknowledge it and release it."
"Yes, Master." Anakin's fingers played with the latch on the pouch. "But I'm not afraid."
"There's no question you are one of the most fearless beings I have ever encountered." Obi-Wan dipped his chin, indicating Anakin's hand. "But in this instance, your fidgeting is betraying you."
Anakin stilled.
"Is ... something else bothering you, Padawan? Something besides Padmé's injuries?"
Anakin couldn't bring himself to answer. Obi-Wan would be furious with him for not handing over the holocron right away. Anakin could already feel the sting of his scorn. Right now, this moment, the genuine concern radiating from his master was such ... a welcome change. He didn't want to lose that. He couldn't stand the thought of more criticism.
"Padawan, what is it?"
He would get rid of the holocron himself. No one need ever know of it. "Nothing." Anakin's hand lowered to his side, even as his shields rose a little higher. "Nothing, Master. You're right. I'm worrying when I shouldn't be." He nodded toward Padmé's bunk, shrouded in darkness. "I'd like to sit with Padmé for a while, ... if that's okay."
Obi-Wan dropped his hand and stepped back. "Very well. But keep the hatch open."
As if they would do anything when Padmé was recovering from double laser burns. Anakin's lips thinned. He nodded tersely and walked into the darkened cabin. The shadows enveloped him.
Padmé stretched and glanced around her cabin. She was bored. Restless. She didn't care if Obi-Wan had told her to stay off her feet as much as possible; she needed to move. Besides, it had been two days. If she stayed in bed for the remaining thirty hours it would take to reach their destination, she would be so stiff she wouldn't be able to move.
Twinges of pain zipped through her thigh like tiny electrical pulses as she swung her legs over the side of the bunk. She paused for a moment, weaving her dark hair into a loose braid and waiting for the discomfort to fade. That wasn't so bad.
Hand braced against the wall, Padmé slowly rose, balancing on her uninjured right leg. She shifted some of her weight to her left leg, wincing when a stronger shock of pain gripped her. It quickly passed, replaced by a dull palpitation. She could stand that.
With tentative steps, Padmé made her way to the entrance. She paused to don a thick, floor-length robe that Anakin had discovered in with the extra refresher supplies. He was always so thoughtful - and there was no way she could get her flightsuit on without help right now. Neither did she think Obi-Wan would appreciate her stumbling around the ship wearing only a camisole and underwear. She grimaced and yanked the belt snug.
Padmé limped to the cockpit, still leaning on the bulkhead. Her leg throbbed with each step. Even with that, it felt good to be on the move. The hatch swished open and Padmé entered the flight deck. Empty.
A trilling beep sounded.
"Oh. Hello, Artoo. I didn't see you hiding in that corner. Do you know where Anakin and Obi-Wan are?"
A whistle. Padmé didn't feel like plugging the astromech droid into the console to get a translation. "Never mind. I'll find them. The exercise will do me good."
The droid emitted what sounded like a mournful sigh.
Padmé smiled. "Don't worry, Artoo. I'll be fine. I have the best care outside of the Jedi healing wards in the Temple."
She turned and began the arduous trek toward the aft of the cruiser, past the cabins and the galley. The small lounge was deserted. With a grimace, Padmé sank onto an acceleration couch and rested for a few minutes.
A memory surfaced, of Anakin at her beside, deep in concentration, of the warmth that had shielded her mind from pain, and of the love suffusing that warmth.
Smiling now, Padmé stood and hobbled across the open space toward the cargo bay. They had to be either there or in the engine room. Knowing Anakin ... A Corellian would place his credits on the engine room.
At the cargo bay door, she paused. Faint sounds penetrated the reinforced metal. Apparently, the Corellian would have lost the bet.
Padmé touched the door controls. She entered the mostly-empty space slowly, arrested by the sight of the two Jedi in heated battle. Her heart lurched. A few seconds of observation revealed that they were merely sparring. As Padmé's heartbeat resumed a normal pace, she berated herself for thinking the worst.
But they were so intense, so focused, they hadn't even noticed her entrance.
Padmé blinked, noticing Obi-Wan's lack of attire. He was stripped to the waist, his upper torso bathed in a sheen of sweat that emphasized his muscles, his mature, powerful build. Padmé flushed and forced her attention aside. In comparison, Anakin was completely clothed. He had always found space to be uncomfortably cold. Beneath his leather stolla, sweat had soaked the front and sides of his tunic. They had obviously been practicing for some time.
Since they showed no signs of stopping, Padmé sidled over to the meter-high duracrate upon which Obi-Wan's tunics were neatly stacked. She pushed them aside and settled on the crate, eager for the chance to watch Jedi in practice combat. The distraction was rendering her leg pain less noticeable.
As she watched, Anakin feinted and stepped toward his master. In a move almost too quick to follow, Obi-Wan disarmed Anakin. The darkened lightsaber clattered to the deck.
Anakin snatched up his weapon and began to orbit around Obi-Wan. The master pivoted once, then halted while his padawan continued to circle.
Padmé's gaze was drawn to Obi-Wan's exposed left arm. The smaller, already-fading laser wound was eclipsed by the red gash above it. Surely the Jedi healers could have at least lessened the severity of the scar. It looked so ... angry.
"Again, Padawan."
"I've already -"
"Again."
Padmé studied Anakin. His lips thinned in a familiar gesture of frustration. His circling continued, a stark contrast to Obi-Wan's utter stillness. When he spoke, the words were forced through clenched teeth.
"I must concentrate on the inner circles of defense."
"That's right. We were both trained to fight in the middle and outer circles. Very effective against lasers, even against Jedi with similar training." Obi-Wan flexed his left arm; the scar seemed to smile. "Dooku defeated both of us up close, in the inner circles. His archaic style is designed for lightsaber duels. We must learn -"
Circling behind Obi-Wan, Anakin struck without warning. Padmé's gasp was cut short when Obi-Wan spun and successfully blocked the blow. For long seconds, the locked blue and green blades sizzled and spat. They seemed thinner than usual, less virulent. Some sort of low-level training setting, Padmé decided.
Obi-Wan wheeled away. Anakin followed. "So you want me learn from Count Dooku, do you, Master?" He attacked with something akin to ferocity.
His face lined with concentration, Obi-Wan fended off the initial flurry. Finally, he said, "We must always seek to learn from our opponents." He fell silent as the battle continued. Several moments later, Anakin closed in and Obi-Wan sent his lightsaber cartwheeling through the air.
Before it could hit the deck, Anakin stretched out his arm and the weapon flew back to his hand. The green blade flashed to life and arched down. Again, Obi-Wan blocked and forced Anakin's blade to hissing immobility.
"Do not let your frustration control you, Padawan. You have the Force ability to defeat me. Look how well you are doing with your off hand - you have already overcome that obstacle. But you cannot just trust the flow. You must anticipate." He stepped back and parried two quick blows. "Think."
Padmé cringed at the tension coiling in Anakin's limbs. Robotic hand clenching and unclenching, he stalked around Obi-Wan like a Trandoshan whose prey had escaped. This time, Obi-Wan did not expose his back to his padawan.
The master whispered, "Calm, Anakin."
Padmé found herself repeating the phrase in her mind like a mantra. Calm, Anakin, calm.
Gradually, Anakin's movements changed from jerky to lithe. His features smoothed. Padmé realized she was breathing easier.
When the two Jedi joined battle again, even Padmé could see that Anakin was holding his own in close. Though Obi-Wan's forehead gleamed, a half smile tugged at his mouth. Anakin frowned as he pressed the attack.
Another hail of blurred strikes and Anakin's lightsaber sailed toward Padmé, landing centimeters from the duracrate. He spared her a glance as he summoned the weapon back to his grip.
"You enjoy humiliating me." The green blade extended once more.
"No, Padawan. I enjoy seeing you stretch beyond what you think you are capable of." The blue blade winked out. "Enough for today."
Anakin switched off his lightsaber and sketched a bow. Obi-Wan returned it, then shook his head. A spray of droplets flew in every direction from his collar-length hair. Anakin stepped back with a scowl as he allowed his master to proceed first off the practice floor.
Obi-Wan halted beside the duracrate and toweled himself with his undertunic. Padme's gaze flicked to his chest. The sour odor of sweat caused her nose to wrinkle.
Answering her questioning look, he said, "I dislike having to make a dozen repairs on my tunics after a sparring session. A little burn ointment is simpler." Obi-Wan smiled and slipped into the undertunic. "My apologies for offending your nose, Senator. I shall head directly to the refresher." He arched his brows. "How is your leg today?"
Since Melida/Daan, the way he said senator had softened, almost to the point of sounding like an endearment - the way he used to call her friend. Padmé held to the hope he would soon remember how to pronounce her name. She smiled. "It's healing quite nicely, Master Kenobi."
Obi-Wan nodded and glanced over his shoulder to where Anakin hovered behind him, scowl still in place. "Good job, Padawan." He picked up his other clothes and strode from the cargo bay.
Anakin's scowl deepened.
"What's wrong, Ani?"
"I'm waiting for the but."
Padmé tilted her head and listened to Obi-Wan's quiet whistling. She shrugged melodramatically. "No buts today, my darling padawan. Your master is apparently pleased with your efforts ..." She gave him a mischievous glance. "... despite your being unable to hang onto your weapon."
Anakin snorted. "For months, he's been spending every spare moment practicing while I've been doing courier runs for the Council. He didn't take his defeat very well." He stepped close and his blue eyes cleared. "I like the way you say darling padawan much better than Obi-Wan's my very young padawan."
"I'll tell him for you. Maybe he will start calling you that."
Anakin touched his left fingers to Padmé's mouth. "No, thank you." He leaned forward and his lips replaced his fingers. Moments later, Anakin straightened. "Maybe Obi-Wan is planning to take a very long shower. We could -"
"No, Anakin." Padmé had to quell her rising desire as she gave him a severe look. "You don't want to do anything to wreck your master's good mood."
"It's not his mood that concerns me." A boyish grin split his face.
Padmé suppressed a laugh and schooled her features. "Carry me to my quarters, darling padawan." Hope sparked in Anakin's eyes, disappearing when Padmé added, "Then you may proceed to your own cabin and follow your master's lead. You stink almost as much as he did. Like a baby nerf instead of a papa."
Anakin swept Padmé into his arms. She managed to conceal the shiver of pain.
As he strode forward, Anakin said, "You are a heartless woman, Padmé Naberrie Skywalker."
"Yes, I am." Padmé smiled up at him. "But I think you know who stole my heart and reduced me to such a mean condition."
Anakin's smile lit his features in a way that always melted Padmé's insides. She rested her head against his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. It was a good thing she had already given him such a firm "no". She didn't think herself capable of refusing him a second time.
Obi-Wan slouched in the pilot's chair, fist tucked under his chin, as he stared at the readout. What had been the cause of that microburst transmission that occurred while he had been meditating two days ago? Artoo's diagnostics couldn't even pin down its origin.
He shifted his gaze to the hyperspace swirl. With all the minor glitches they had discovered since leaving Melida/Daan, what was one more? All the other ship's systems seemed to be displaying problems, so it was hardly surprising that communications would, too. The circuits had to really be scrambled if point of origin couldn't be traced.
It was almost time to exit hyperspace. Obi-Wan knew he needed to focus on what was waiting for them, but his mind kept leaping back to that transmission. He had a bad feeling about it.
Qui-Gon had always said to trust your feelings. But there was nothing he could do about this one - he had tried it all. Nothing but give the worry to the Force.
Obi-Wan sighed. A precept that was sometimes easier said than done.
Padmé entered the cockpit and slid into the co-pilot's chair. She was back to wearing her flightsuit. He gave her tentative smile a brief nod.
"You're moving much better today."
"Thanks to your and Anakin's diligent care. My leg's barely aching at all. Only quick movements set it off."
"Well, let's hope you don't have to move quickly, then." Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder. "Where's Anakin?"
"Fiddling with the electrical system. The hot water disappeared as soon as I stepped under the 'fresher spray."
Obi-Wan lifted one brow. "That could make for a quick dip."
Padmé gave him a look of mock indignation. "You are laughing at me, Master Kenobi. That's most ... un-Jedi-like."
"Did I laugh?" Obi-Wan returned his attention to the readout so she wouldn't see him smile.
"Not out loud, perhaps."
Obi-Wan didn't answer. He enjoyed this gentle banter - it was reminiscent of their friendship. He peered at the data stream as his thoughts jumped back to that night. Would he have rather not walked in on Padmé and Anakin, lived in ignorance and kept his trust? Padmé would still be his friend. Anakin ... would still have a future as a Jedi. And he wouldn't be in a position where he had to turn his own padawan over to the Council for punishment - and, unless Anakin changed his mind, banishment.
How could they think the love they professed was worth the price they would have to pay? Obi-Wan could not imagine Anakin finding peace in any situation outside the Jedi Order. Whether or not he was the Chosen One, he was meant to be a Jedi.
Padmé interrupted his thoughts. "What has you looking so somber? Meeting Dooku?"
Obi-Wan shifted and studied the young woman for a moment. Even in a simple bun and unadorned flightsuit, she was beautiful. And he knew her to be a woman of integrity, possessed of inner beauty. How could she ask Anakin to give up his life? Her expression turned curious. He said, "I don't want to offend you, but may I ask a personal question?"
Curiosity faded to uncertainty. "I ... suppose."
Obi-Wan glanced at Padmé rubbing her leg, likely not even realizing she was doing it. "Do you love Anakin, or do you simply love the utter devotion with which he loves you?"
Indignation flared, darkening her brown eyes. "That ... that ..."
"Is impudent, I know. But I would like to know."
Padmé stiffened. "I happen to love your padawan, Master Kenobi. For you to imply otherwise is ... reprehensible. I would never have agreed to marry him just ... just to feed my vanity. I'm not so completely selfish as you seem to imply."
Taken aback by the vehemence of her response, Obi-Wan spoke quietly. "I'm not implying anything. I'm only seeking to understand."
"You know what it is to love. Why can't you accept that your padawan could do likewise?"
"It's not the loving. It's the choice to willfully destroy that boy's life. His future."
"His ..." Padmé worked her jaw, the fury evident in her every line. "I've done no such thing. I only want what's best -"
"He will be banished from the Order, Senator." Why couldn't he make her realize that?
"No. It's not as bad as that. We'll explain everything to the Council. They'll understand. I will always support Anakin in his work as a Jedi."
"Being a Jedi is not an office job that you leave behind you when the chime sounds ending your shift. It's a way of life. It defines your thoughts, your actions, your every moment. It is the most serious and deepest of commitments."
"I know that. And I fully support Anakin's commitment. It is so unfair of you to just sit back and pass judgment without ... without ..."
"Pass judgment about what?" Anakin's voice came from the cockpit entrance.
Obi-Wan winced inwardly. He shouldn't have brought this up. He peered at the hyperspace countdown. Three minutes.
When Padmé didn't respond to Anakin's inquiry either, Obi-Wan could sense his padawan's growing turmoil. He could feel Anakin's eyes on the back of his neck. The shockwave of anger that accompanied Anakin's realization, exploded outward from his aura and hit Obi-Wan like a physical blow.
Blast. "Padawan, control your feelings. Let go your anger."
"Let go ..." Anakin spoke through clenched teeth. "You broke the truce. You promised you wouldn't bring this up, then when my back is turned ..."
Obi-Wan swung to his feet as Anakin sucked in oxygen. "Enough, Padawan."
"No! It is not enough! How am I supposed to trust you, when you so easily break your word? You want me to prove myself trustworthy, but you can do anything you -"
"Enough." Stepping up to his padawan, Obi-Wan folded his arms and peered into roiling dark blue eyes. "I was out of line. I apologize."
A deep frown creased Anakin's brow. "You ..."
"Apologize." Obi-Wan felt Anakin's anger leaking away. He let go a slow breath. "I may have spoken the truth as I see it to Padmé, but you're right. I had agreed to not discuss your ... union until after the mission." Why did he have so much trouble even thinking the word, marriage? He glanced at Padmé's shuttered expression. "I hope you will both accept my apology. It won't happen again."
Mixed emotions flickered across Anakin's face. His glare softened, but only slightly. He opened his mouth to speak - only to be silenced by the hyperspace warning signal.
The moment was lost. Obi-Wan stifled his frustration and stepped aside. "One minute until reversion to real space. Your chair awaits, Pilot."
Anakin sniffed and peered at the viewscreen for a few seconds. He nodded and brushed past Obi-Wan to take his seat. Padmé gave them both an enigmatic look and faced forward. Obi-Wan took the navigator's chair, his mind now fully on the mission.
He toggled a switch and his monitor brought up this quadrant's navigational charts. He had paid little attention before now, leaving Artoo to help Anakin with astro-navigation. Oh, he knew the target co-ordinates, but hadn't bothered to place them in his mind's eye. That had been a mistake.
Anakin announced reversion to real space. Obi-Wan felt the sublight engine kick in, but didn't look up.
He ran his finger over the screen, tapping it when he noticed the name of the next system Rim-ward. The Meerian System. Bandomeer. Another name from his past. But not one that touched a nerve - it was the planet where Qui-Gon had accepted him as his padawan. Dooku was playing another game, but Obi-Wan was missing the point. He frowned.
What system was this? The monitor read 'YG-6312'. A meaningless designation assigned by some scientist. Nothing that triggered any memories.
"Target planet is in sight," Anakin announced.
Obi-Wan turned his attention to the planet beginning to fill the viewscreen. "A name?"
"Just a designation. YG-6312-a. One of three designated planets in the system."
Hardly a surprise. Obi-Wan studied the planet. Mostly blue and white - a water planet like Mon Calamari. He glimpsed Padmé gaging his reaction to the planet. He shook his head and she returned to her own study of their destination.
The yacht shimmied as they entered the atmosphere. They dropped below the thick cloud cover and swooped over a seemingly endless ocean.
Anakin said, "Confirm planetary co-ordinates, Artoo." He glanced at Padmé. "Nice of the Count to give us such precise directions. We'd be searching for days, otherwise."
Nice, indeed. Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and squinted at the horizon. Tension began to collect in his limbs. He reached inward to his center of calm and the anxiety dissipated. He cupped his right hand over his left bicep, tracing the ridges of the scar beneath his tunic. Dooku would not find him so easily defeated a second time.
"We should be making visual contact in two minutes," Anakin announced.
Obi-Wan straightened, all attention focused forward. A speck appeared on the horizon, quickly growing in size to become a brown landmass. "Slow to quarter impulse, Padawan."
"Yes, Master." Anakin reached for the throttle.
The whitecaps became discernible as the ship slowed. The landmass jutted up sharply from the water. Obi-Wan's squint carved deep furrows between his eyebrows. There was something familiar ...
A loud thud and the ship rocked, its wing skimming a wave and sending up an arching spray.
"What was that?" cried Padmé.
"Nothing's showing on radar," Anakin said as he increased elevation slightly.
Obi-Wan gripped his armrests. "Switch to infrared."
Anakin muttered a Huttese curse. "The airspace above us is swarming with heat sources. Must be lifeforms from that island." He paused. "Big lifeforms."
Another clunk and the ship veered dangerously before Anakin brought it under control. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Whatever they are, they aren't friendly."
Before Obi-Wan could agree the ship was pounded by a double strike. Padmé gasped as a third blow, directly above the cockpit, drove the nose toward the water, giving them a far better view of the whitecaps than Obi-Wan wanted.
"Poodoo," Anakin whispered.
Water crashed over the viewscreen.
Anakin hauled back on the yoke. The nose of the ship had started to lift when the first wave had broken over it. Now his hands shook with the strain of trying to break free of the water sucking at the ship.
The yacht skipped across several crests, its hull crumpling a little more with each impact, as if the ship were striking ferrocrete instead of water. A loud crack and groan reverberated through the cockpit. The ship lost all forward momentum.
"What happened?" Padmé asked.
Anakin didn't need to look at Artoo's readout. "A belly seam gave out. The underside is splitting open." He tore at his restraint belt. "We have to abandon ship."
Padmé leaped to her feet. Anakin followed. He halted when he caught sight of Obi-Wan's dark expression.
"Sorry, Master."
Obi-Wan blinked and focused on Anakin, his eyes grey and stormy. "This is hardly your fault, Padawan. At least you kept us on the surface."
Anakin glanced at the submerging viewscreen. "Not for long." He headed aft and yelled, "Come on, Artoo!"
The ship moaned and creaked as it foundered. Power flickered out, replaced by strobing emergency lights. The ship began to list to the port side. Dishes Anakin had left on the counter clattered out of the galley in front of him.
Ahead, Padmé was already digging through the storage compartments between the lounge and cargo bay. The ship screamed as it tilted more. The storage doors swung wide and the contents tumbled out. Padmé jumped back with a yell.
"What are you looking for?" Anakin said. "We need to get -"
"There." Padmé pointed at a glaring orange bundle. "Life-raft. Now we just have to find a way out."
The landing ramp was submerged. Anakin said, "Cargo bay ramp." It was on the starboard side.
The ship listed a few more degrees, and the wall became the floor. Artoo squealed. Anakin spun to see Obi-Wan righting the droid and setting it on the new deck. Artoo whistled its thanks.
Uncertainty swamped Anakin. "Master?"
"There's no time for messing with hatches, Anakin. Sense where the waterline is and cut above it."
Anakin nodded. He jumped onto the nearest couch, glad they were all secured to the deck, and climbed onto the upended arm. Taking his lightsaber, he switched it on, studied the ceiling - now wall - for a second, then plunged the blade into it. Slowly, steadily, he carved through several layers of durasteel.
"Hurry, Ani," Padmé said. "I can hear water leaking into the cargo bay."
Sweat beaded on Anakin's upper lip and along his hairline. He drew deep, oxygen-rich breaths, shoring up his trembling muscles with the Force.
The emergency siren started whooping. Anakin snorted. A little late for that. He could hear his master whispering, "Steady. That's it. Good."
The lightsaber completed its circle. Anakin pushed with the Force, sending the metal plug flying away from the ship. He glanced out the hole. "We've less than a meter clearance, Master."
"Here's the life-raft," Obi-Wan said. "Catch."
Anakin turned and snagged the oversized bundle, the Force-enhanced toss almost throwing him off balance. He shoved the raft out the hole and followed, careful not to touch the still-hot metal edges. Triggering the inflation device, Anakin threaded the tow rope through his metal fingers and let the inflating raft fall into the water.
"Padmé," he called down the hole, "get out here. Hurry."
He watched her scramble up the couch. Water lapped at his ankle. She stood and stretched toward the hole. Anakin reached down with his left hand and grabbed hers. She clutched his forearm with her free hand. He leaned back, then pushed from his knees to his feet as he hauled her out of the ship.
Padmé threw her arms around Anakin's waist as he stepped back. The ship creaked and shifted, almost pitching them into the water.
"Jump into the raft." Anakin gave Padmé a nudge. "Go."
She jumped, just as water started pouring into the makeshift hatch. The durasteel hissed, spewing tendrils of steam into the air. Anakin tried to see beyond the gush of water.
"Master!"
Anakin caught a glimpse of silver and white. He jerked back, narrowly missing getting smacked by Artoo as the droid shot from the hole with a scream. He heard a splash, but all his attention was focused on the hole.
The ship began to sink faster. In seconds, Anakin was knee-deep. He stared at the disappearing opening, barely able to breathe.
"Ani!"
Anakin startled. He steeled himself, wheeled and lunged, landing half in the boat. He kicked while Padmé grabbed his tunic and pulled. He rolled into the raft, gasping for air, for relief from the rising dread.
The raft began to rotate. Anakin sat up and glanced around. Artoo was clinging to a safety line on the stern with clamped pincers. Anakin scowled at the vortex beginning to form, water swirling around the raft.
"We'll be sucked under." Anakin unlocked the oars and began to row with every ounce of energy he possessed. He was making little headway against the pull of the whirlpool. Padmé's brown eyes held his gaze, reflecting his worry.
The raft began to surge forward. Anakin paused, oars poised above the water. Still the boat continued steadily away from the growing whirlpool.
Padmé twisted around. "It's Artoo!"
Anakin craned his neck to see past Padmé. A churning wake spread out behind the little droid. Anakin laughed with sheer relief. "Artoo! Your built-in fan drill. That's brilliant."
Artoo whistled and continued to propel them away from the crash site.
A muffled roaring drew Anakin's gaze to the center of the vortex. A mass of bubbles and roiling water broke the surface in a sputtering geyser. Silence fell with the last water drop.
Artoo ceased acting as the outboard motor. Anakin stared at the still water, willing Obi-Wan to surface. He felt Padmé's eyes as the blood drained from his face. His lungs seized up, only able to wheeze in a trickle of air. He scanned the surface of the water as far as he could see. No tell-tale dark spot bobbed up.
Waves washed over the crash site, as if it had never been, and carried the raft toward the distant shore.
A shadow passed over the waves and the raft. Anakin ignored it. He heard Padmé's voice but couldn't make sense of the words.
Gone.
His breath started to come in ragged gasps as he tried to fight past the blinding pain, to scale the wall of fear preventing him from accessing the Force.
No! The cry echoed through his mind. He couldn't lose his mother and now Obi-Wan, too. It wasn't fair. This couldn't be happening. Obi-Wan was the closest thing he had to a father. Don't let it be true. Oh, Force. Almost the last thing they had done was argue. Let it be a dream.
Wake me up!
Anguish ripped from his throat in a long drawn-out wail. "Obi-Wan!"
