|
|
Obi-Wan halted in front of Mace and executed a short bow. Mace jerked his head for the younger Jedi to enter the transport. Obi-Wan leapt to the top of the shallow ramp and swung around the partition into the passenger hold. He jerked to a halt and scanned the faces of the six beings already seated. He spun and faced Mace as the dark-skinned Jedi Master came up behind him.
"What's going on, Mace? Gathering seven masters that have padawans on solo missions? Has something happened?" Obi-Wan crossed his arms.
"It's not what you're thinking, Obi-Wan. Sit down," Mace replied.
"What am I thinking, Mace? That using padawans as couriers was a nerf-brained scheme to begin with? Because it was. I allowed Anakin to go against my better judgment, and now he's paying the price for my lack of vision. I should have stood firm and refused." Obi-Wan glowered at Mace.
"Are you finished?" Mace asked. His voice lowered. "Sit down. Now." Obi-Wan sank into the nearest seat, still eyeing Mace skeptically. The Jedi Master said, "Thank you. I've gathered the seven of you to help with a mission here on Coruscant, since you are between missions, however briefly, with your padawans safely completing missions of their own." He gave Obi-Wan a pointed look.
As the transport lifted off and swiveled to begin merging into Coruscant's heavy traffic, chagrin welled up inside Obi-Wan. He muttered, "Thank you so much for allowing me to make a total fool of myself."
A smile curled one corner of Mace's mouth as a few snickers sounded behind Obi-Wan. "You're welcome. It's quite heartening, actually."
"I'm sure."
"Truly," Mace said. "It shows how attached you are to your padawan, Obi-Wan, and that kind of bond is always a pleasure to observe."
Obi-Wan cast the Jedi Master a dubious look and buried his hands in opposing sleeves as he shifted to stare out the transparisteel porthole at the blur of buildings and traffic flashing by.
Mace's voice droned through his mind. "A coalition of mid-rim planets is holding a trade conference here on Coruscant, trying to solidify their bonds so that none are tempted to join the separatists. They have been meeting all week. Three threats from an unknown extremist group have been intercepted by the security team assigned to the delegation. The most recent -- and most serious -- threat was received this morning, and coincided with a security breach that has yet to be rectified. Am I boring you, Obi-Wan?"
Continuing to look out the small window, Obi-Wan replied, "Not at all. They want us to join the security team and offer a little extra protection to this gaggle of senators."
"Senators and heads of state."
Obi-Wan nodded absently. A voice from behind him asked, "Where is the conference being held?"
"At the Bothan consulate," Mace said. "It's a large complex. To date, the team has been relying heavily on technology to keep the site secure. But since the breach this morning, it was thought prudent to assign a Jedi to each dignitary as an extra precaution."
"Eight dignitaries?" the voice asked.
"Ten. Two Jedi are already on site, assigned when the first threat was received."
Baby-sitting, thought Obi-Wan darkly. He immediately gave himself a mental shake and shunted his resentment aside. He'd been touchy ever since Anakin had left him six days ago to complete their mission on Anobis by himself. He had orchestrated a hasty end to the trade negotiations and had hastened back to Coruscant to find that Anakin still hadn't returned from Fondor, which was far too close to current Clone War hostilities for Obi-Wan's liking. His mind kept conjuring up images of the kind of trouble his padawan could get into -- and how fast he could get into it. He had tried to warn Mace against sending Anakin out alone, but the Jedi Master had just scoffed. 'Anakin acquitted himself admirably on Geonosis, and we're spread too thin not to use the older, reliable padawans in such cases. It's is a simple courier mission that poses no threat whatsoever. He can't possibly get into trouble.' Obi-Wan heaved an inner sigh. You have no idea, Mace. No idea at all.
Perhaps an easy assignment like this was just the thing to get his mind off Anakin. Setting his thoughts aside, Obi-Wan spent the rest of the ride centering himself in the Force.
The Bothan consulate was an imposing structure -- a series of stacked rectangular components with rounded corners and large windows that echoed the building's tiered design. The walls were almost iridescent and seemed to change color as the sun shifted; on a bright day such as this it gave the building a shimmering mirage effect. The Jedi transport pulled up alongside a broad boulevard fronting the main entrance, locked smoothly onto a docking clamp and the landing ramp lowered. The Jedi filed down the ramp and into the building.
The security team was awaiting the Jedi's arrival in a spacious atrium that soared upwards for three levels and was capped by a starburst skylight stretching out to each corner. Obi-Wan gave half of his attention to the briefing that the head of security had immediately launched into; the rest of his mind catalogued his surroundings. His full attention snapped to Mace as he began to hand out assignments. Mace ran down the list quickly. As he cited the location of each leader, the Jedi assigned to that being peeled away from the group and headed off to find his charge.
When only Mace, Obi-Wan and a Corellian Jedi remained, Mace paused. "The three remaining leaders are in the complex, but security isn't sure just where." Mace's gaze narrowed when Obi-Wan arched one brow. The younger Jedi thought it prudent to keep quiet and smoothed his features to blandness. Mace eyed him for a second, then continued, "Obi-Wan, you protected Senator Amidala recently. Any ideas where she might wander off to unattended?"
Obi-Wan's mind went as blank as his expression. Padmé, here? He chided himself. Why not here? Naboo was a Mid-Rim planet, and Padmé was fighting as hard as anyone to save the Republic. After a few seconds, Mace prodded, "Obi-Wan?" The Jedi blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Naboo is a lush green planet. Are there any gardens in the complex?" As soon as he said it, he knew the rightness of his thought.
The head of security said, "Yes. The main conservatory is on this floor. The far end of the east wing. But it's a good half kilometer from here."
"Any outside entrances nearby?" Mace asked. The security guard shook his head. Mace turned to Obi-Wan. "The senator is your responsibility, Obi-Wan. If anything happens in the meantime, get her out and get her back to the Temple any way you can."
"Why not the Senate? It's much closer."
"We have no idea who is behind these extremists. Everyone is suspect until we know more."
Obi-Wan silently added, And politicians are the most suspect of all beings. He didn't wait for any further instructions; he wheeled and headed toward the conservatory. A familiar feeling of dread shivered through his thoughts. He broke into a run. The wide corridor rang with the rapid reports of his heels slapping against stone. Something wasn't right. Why hadn't security cams spotted Padmé entering the conservatory? Unless they had been tampered with in this sector. Obi-Wan picked up his pace, sprinting toward the graceful stone archway that spanned the entrance to the gardens.
A thunderous blast cracked the air. The shockwave from the explosion slammed into the Jedi's back at the same second he lunged through the arch. The force picked Obi-Wan up and hurtled him through the air.
Tucked in the far corner of the sprawling indoor gardens, under the broad leaves of a massive caiblir tree, Padmé sat, trying to summon the energy for another day of hard bargaining. She was so weary of having to be polite -- especially with the Bothans who argued over every word. She started, mid-yawn, when an explosion rocked the bench on which she sat. She glanced up to see dust and debris rolling into the conservatory.
A brown ball catapulted ahead of the cloud, unfolding to become a cloaked figure. The easily distinguished silhouette of a Jedi Knight was swallowed by the bank of dust as soon as he touched down. A few seconds later the figure emerged from the dusty billows, striding directly toward Padmé. Her heart lurched. Anakin? She narrowed her eyes. No, but there was something familiar in that walk.
The Jedi wiped the ashen coating from his face with the sleeve of his cloak. Padmé stood and took a half step forward. Her eyes widened as the Jedi neared. Obi-Wan, here? She glanced over his shoulder, searching for his ever-present padawan. She stumbled backwards and sank back onto the bench. He was alone. Where was Anakin? She forced her tightly-intertwined fingers to relax and met his solemn gaze. She didn't notice she was holding her breath until he halted before her and bowed his head briefly.
"Senator, we have to get you out of here."
Fear flashed through Padmé's thoughts. "It takes two to make a 'we', Master Kenobi. Where ..." She swallowed, forcing herself to calmness. "Where is Anakin? Don't tell me he's ... in that."
Padmé peered over the Jedi's shoulder. Flames were licking along the walls of the corridor in search of fuel. Sparks from severed electrical wires spat through the archway and peppered the mossy undergrowth near the entrance. Tendrils of fire blazed to life and began devouring the dry plant life. Their exit was blocked.
Panic reared up for a nanosecond. Surely Obi-Wan wasn't so much the Jedi that he would put rescuing her before his padawan's safety. Her breath caught when his eyes twitched, some indefinable emotion flashing through them, as if he had read her thoughts. She crossed her arms. "Where is he?"
Obi-Wan stared at Padmé for half a beat. He could sense the fire growing behind him; soon it would engulf the whole of the far wall. He was trying to rescue her and she was practically accusing him of leaving his padawan to burn. A far cry from the welcome she had offered him before Geonosis. Had she come to think so little of all Jedi, or just him? He clenched his jaw and looked away to hide his irritation.
The Jedi's brow was marred by a scowl. Padmé's glare deepened, but the man didn't even seem to notice. He raised his hand and waved at the nearest window. The glass blew out of its frame. He pointed at every window in turn, glass shattering outwards each time. Fresh air rushed into the room, fueling the fire. The flames leapt higher. Smoke began to churn near the ceiling of the large room.
"Anakin is on a solo mission," Obi-Wan said as he pulled Padmé to her feet. "What are you wearing under this thing?"
"A bodysuit."
"Get the dress off. It's too difficult to move in."
Padmé glanced down. The burgundy brocade with its gold trimmed bodice and wide skirt was extremely formal, but she'd been expecting to sit in negotiations, not flee from a fire. She had a mental image of the dress exploding in flames. She tugged ineffectually at the top; Obi-Wan grabbed the shoulders of the dress and yanked. Unexpected awareness sparked along her skin. The tearing sound hid Padmé's gasp. She jerked away and kicked free of the material. The light grey bodysuit covered her from shoulder to knee. Before she could feel self-conscious, Obi-Wan's cloak settled over her shoulders. He fastened it under her chin and grabbed her wrist, dragging her toward one of the blown-out windows.
"As Jedi go, you are incredibly rude," Padmé muttered as she stumbled after the Jedi, managing to slip her free hand into one of the sleeves of the cloak. She coughed as smoke began to swirl downwards. Sweat tricked down her neck; fear seeped into her mind.
Obi-Wan couldn't believe what he was hearing. She wanted courtly manners when a fire was reaching out to engulf them. He lacked the patience to pander to ridiculous whims today. He lengthened his stride.
A cracking spun him around. A slender tree -- now a flaming torch -- began to fall towards them. Obi-Wan released Padmé's wrist and flung his hand out, giving the tree a Force shove. It crashed onto the bench Padmé had been sitting on. Sparks billowed into the air. Obi-Wan coughed, grabbed Padmé's hand and dashed towards the window.
Padmé gagged, desperate for fresh air. Obi-Wan pulled her onto the ledge and spun her so she was facing him. He clamped his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes with a dark, unfathomable gaze. Padmé froze. Her throat went dry. She had the sudden, shocking feeling he was going to kiss her. She couldn't tear her gaze from his.
Obi-Wan tugged at her wrists and moved her hands behind his neck; her fingers intertwined reflexively. He leaned forward so their noses almost touched. His arm snaked around her waist as his breath ghosted across her lips. "Hang on."
Clutching her close, he jumped.
Padmé shoved Obi-Wan. He stepped further back into the alley. She followed and struck out at his chest again.
"Apologize."
Obi-Wan arched one brow. "For stripping that unsightly dress off you? I'm not the least bit sorry I did that." His response earned him a hard poke. He rubbed his chest and smothered a smile.
"Not for getting me out of the dress, you core dweller. For doing that to me." Padmé flung her arm out and pointed at the Bothan consulate.
Peering over her shoulder at the flames issuing out of the conservatory windows, Obi-Wan shrugged. "I'm not going to apologize for rescuing you, either."
"Look at that chasm you jumped, Obi-Wan. Weren't you the least bit concerned about how deep it is? You could have easily miscalculated."
The anger blackening Padmé's eyes almost made him laugh out loud. She had spunk, he had to admit that much. Instead he blandly replied, "But I didn't." It wasn't very wide at all; an easy leap.
Her nostrils flared. She pursed her lips then said, "Your arrogance is astounding. Why couldn't we have used the line on your belt and just lowered ourselves a couple of levels and then re-entered the building on an undamaged floor?"
"Because your meeting is under attack by extremists who are likely in the building this very moment." A glint on the roof caught his eye. He pulled Padmé into the shadows as a blaster bolt bit into the ferrocrete.
"You have an answer for everything," she snapped. "I suppose you're going to say you weren't even thinking of kissing me."
Consternation furrowed his brow. "Kiss you? Why would I do that?" He paused. "Oh. On the ledge. I was trying to keep you focused on me, relaxed, so you didn't panic and throw us off balance. Could we continue this argument someplace where we aren't being shot at?"
Padmé's scowl cleared. She blinked and glanced up at the consulate's roof, then at Obi-Wan, concern filling her brown eyes. Obi-Wan sighed in relief. He took her by the arm to lead her away. As he did so, he glanced over his shoulder at the building they'd just vacated. Another figure appeared on the rooftop. He could make out the being putting something to its face -- probably electro-binoculars. Obi-Wan narrowed his gaze. What were security shooting at them for? Another streak of red drove them further into the alley. Obi-Wan decided he didn't want to hang around and ask why.
They stuck to the alleys, with their deep shadows and narrow passages. Several blocks later, Obi-Wan called a halt. It could take a good week to get back to the Temple on foot. They needed a plan. Padmé crouched and leaned against the wall, not even bothering to ask Obi-Wan what he was up to. She looked lost in thought. The Jedi took quick stock. His distinctive Jedi garb made them highly visible. They needed a hideout, or a change of clothing. Obi-Wan smiled. Or both, he thought.
Pulling out his comlink, Obi-Wan flipped it open to find it was dead. The blast, he realized. Certain kinds of detonations emitted an electro-magnetic shockwave concurrent with the physical one that could knock out communications and power. It made sense that this kind of attack would use such a tactic.
Tucking the useless comlink away, Obi-Wan crept to the alley's opening to get his bearings and found he didn't recognize anything in the immediate area. Strolling onto a busy footbridge, he glanced both ways. One rail was crowded with beings talking and pointing toward the smoking consulate several blocks away. He blended into the group of curious onlookers and asked someone if the Senate had been attacked. The helpful pedestrian explained what building was burning and pointed out where the Senate building was relative to where they stood. Obi-Wan quietly thanked the woman and gave her mind a nudge through the Force, urging her to forget their encounter. He made his way back to the alley and found Padmé in the same spot he'd left her.
Squatting in front of the young woman, Obi-Wan asked, "Are you okay, Padmé?"
"Do you think my attendants, my friends, are still alive?" she whispered.
Obi-Wan could see the flicker of fear in her gaze and knew she was thinking about the assassination attempt before Geonosis that had claimed seven lives, including her own decoy. His answer was emphatic. "Yes."
Padmé's gaze flickered up to meet Obi-Wan's. "How can you be so sure?"
"I can't, but I can believe it to be so. We dare not go back and check. Mace told me to get you to the Temple if anything happened. Focus on that, Padmé. The other Jedi in the building will do everything in their power to make sure everyone is safe."
Obi-Wan kept his expression calm while Padmé studied it. She nodded and pushed away from the wall to stand, clutching the Jedi cloak. Obi-Wan led her to the end of the alley. He pulled up the hood to conceal Padmé's features, and explained that they had to navigate short stretches of two main thoroughfares before they could return to the relative safety of dark alleys.
As they moved into the flow of foot traffic, Obi-Wan draped his arm across Padmé's shoulder and drew her to his side. Though they both walked with heads down, Obi-Wan was alert to every movement around them. A faint floral perfume rose and filled Obi-Wan's senses. A corner of his mind registered the warmth of Padmé's body and its slender frailty. The latter was illusion, he knew, but he still found himself driven by the desire to protect her. If only for Anakin's sake. The two had a close friendship: one from which Anakin seemed to draw much strength. Obi-Wan pulled Padmé closer and ushered her to their destination.
Fifteen minutes later, the pair stood in an alley, outside a weather beaten durasteel door that had once been painted blue, bits of paint still clinging here and there. The building sat on the corner of a busy intersection, not far from the Senate. In an eyeblink, a flood of memories swept through Obi-Wan's mind. The last time he'd been here was with Qui-Gon. It had been far too long. With a sad smile, he pulled the back door open and guided Padmé into a dim foyer.
The kitchen clatter of a busy restaurant echoed down the hall. Obi-Wan pointed Padmé to the side and up a narrow staircase. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, glancing over her shoulder at the Jedi. Obi-Wan nodded. Padmé palmed the door controls and stepped inside when the door retracted into the wall.
Obi-Wan followed and closed the door. The apartment was cheery. Here the blue was powdery and fresh, accented by light grey furniture and floral accents.
"Papa? Is that you?" A female voice called from a room to the left. "How many times have I told you to use the lift we had installed? Those stairs --" The woman broke off as she stepped into the room. She stared at the intruders with momentary alarm, then curiosity.
Obi-Wan smiled broadly as he took in Astri Oddo's rosy cheeks, dark eyes and riotous mass of matching dark curls. He noted her advanced pregnancy with a twinge of surprise and said, "Hello Astri."
"Obi-Wan?" Astri asked. Her face lit up. "Obi-Wan Kenobi! It is you." She planted her hands on her hips. "How dare you take so long to darken our doorway, you, you son of a Kowakian monkey-lizard."
Silent laughter jiggled Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I deserve a scolding, Astri, but it would be more effective if you weren't grinning like a Hutt." He quickly continued, "This is ... my friend, Padmé. And you've probably already guessed we have appeared on your threshold in need of help."
Padmé pulled back her hood and nodded at the older woman. Astri's gaze turned thoughtful as she glanced at Padmé, then Obi-Wan, then back to Padmé. Had she recognized the Senator from Naboo? Irritation rippled through the Jedi's mind when he looked into Astri's shrewd eyes and realized she thought they were a couple.
Searching for a distraction, Obi-Wan asked after Astri's father. "How is Didi? Surely he must be retired by now."
A smile tugged at Astri's mouth. "Didi is still driving me crazy. He sits behind the till all day, greeting customers and telling me how to run my restaurant, though he's off visiting friends today."
"Well, you did keep the name of 'Didi's Restaurant', after all. Besides, I'm sure you blithely ignore everything he says." When Astri nodded, Obi-Wan added, "I hear from other Jedi that this place has become quite a trendy eatery. Very popular with senatorial aides and other up-and-comers."
Astri snorted. "Didi hates it. He far preferred the 'good old days' when riffraff and spicers were the majority of his clientele and half of them left without paying. He misses the intrigue, the buying and selling of information, and his old Jedi friends who used to drop by -- like Qui-Gon." She trailed off into thought for a few seconds. "Did I ever tell you how sorry I was about what happened?"
"Yes, you did, Astri," Obi-Wan replied gently. "You sent a very nice handwritten note with some red spicy-smelling sauce spilled on it. I still have it."
Sparing him a wry glance, Astri turned her attention to Padmé. "We're being rude. Please sit. Then Obi-Wan can explain why he's dragging you around Coruscant when you're clothed in little more than his cloak."
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "That's just it, Astri. We need a change of clothing."
"Ah. Something not quite so ... Jedi, perhaps?"
"Right."
Astri shook her head. "How do you manage to get yourself into these messes, Obi-Wan?"
"It's a rare talent," he muttered. When Padmé smothered a quiet snort, Obi-Wan nudged her in Astri's direction.
Astri just smiled serenely and said, "Make yourself comfortable. We might be a while. If you're interested, the holovid is set to the news. The controller is built into the arm of the chair." With that, the two women disappeared down a short hallway and into the room at the end, closing the door behind them.
Padmé stared in the mirror, amazed by the transformation. Deftly applied make-up had made her cheeks and nose appear thinner, and had pulled her eyes into shadow. Very dramatic. For a brief moment she felt like a holovid star preparing for a role in an espionage thriller. The fact that Dormé remained in the consulate facing very real danger shunted that thought aside. While Padmé silently reviewed their options, Astri continued to regale her with memories of Obi-Wan as a teenager as she fastened Padmé's hair into a simple bun at the base of her neck. The stories conjured a very different picture of the Jedi Master than Anakin tended to describe.
Their gazes met in the mirror, and Astri nodded. Padmé stood. The russet tunic and leggings were baggy, but serviceable. Slightly too long, Padmé had to roll up the sleeves and tuck the pant legs into her mid-calf high boots. Astri handed her a black sash to use as a belt. As Padmé fastened it, she followed Astri back into the lounge.
The Jedi was perched on the edge of the chair, intent on news coverage of the attack on the Bothan consulate. He didn't turn when Padmé halted directly behind the chair. She caught the older woman's gaze. "What do you think, Astri? Can you work your magic on Obi-Wan?" She feathered her fingers through the Jedi's hair where it curled over his collar, a teasing touch. "Perhaps you could cut the hair, and dye it black."
Padmé snatched her hand away when Obi-Wan spun, a frown furrowing his brow. "My hair is ..." His eyes widened and he stared at Padmé.
The silent gaping stretched over a long moment; discomfort began to swirl in the pit of Padmé's stomach. "What?" she demanded.
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan said, "What did Astri do to you?"
Padmé smiled. "Isn't it amazing?"
"Amazing?" The frown returned. "Your hair is the same color as your clothing. It's almost orange. You look like, like ..."
"Like someone else? Wasn't that the general idea?" Padmé asked sweetly. "And now it's your turn."
Astri interrupted, "Obi-Wan, look. You're on the news."
All three turned their attention to the broadcast. A stern-looking female newscaster was saying, "... believed that the Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, used the cover of the attack to kidnap the Senator from Naboo, Padmé Amidala Naberrie." Padmé's likeness appeared beside Obi-Wan's. He said, "What?", at the same moment Astri cried, "Senator?"
Padmé poked his shoulder. "Shh." She fought to reach beyond her shock and focus on what was being said.
"... is armed and extremely dangerous. Anyone spotting him, should not approach, but should contact planetary security immediately."
Sliding around the chair to sit on its arm, Padmé took Obi-Wan's hand and squeezed, seeking to comfort herself as much as him. "It's all some silly misunderstanding. We'll just call--" She broke off as Mace's face appeared behind the newscaster.
"Jedi Master Mace Windu was caught in the explosion. He has been transported back to the Temple for treatment. His condition is extremely critical and Temple healers refused to comment on whether he is expected to survive." Obi-Wan's face re-appeared. "This is just in: Coruscant Security is confirming that they have proof of Knight Kenobi's involvement in planning the attack on the consulate, though they are unsure as to whether there were any targets other than Senator Amidala. The other Jedi assigned to the summit, as well as most of the mid-rim leaders in attendance, are still missing. The Rodian Prime Minister, Jusna Toblic, is confirmed dead. The senator for Rodia --"
Padmé flicked off the holovid. Obi-Wan stared at the base of the holo projector, his eyes blinked rapidly, and she knew he was still processing what they'd heard.
"How could they implicate you in such a terrible act?" Astri asked.
Obi-Wan was silent. Padmé covered his hand and absently stroked his knuckles, something she often did with Anakin when he poured out his frustrations. Obi-Wan's gaze shifted to their hands, then flashed up to Padmé's face. His eyes sparked with grim determination. A shudder ran down her spine and she released his hand -- he neither wanted nor needed comfort. He looks like he could slay phantoms. For a nanosecond, she almost felt sorry for whomever was foolish enough to pick Obi-Wan as their scapegoat.
"Do you remember the men on the roof?" Obi-Wan asked.
Padmé nodded. "They were shooting at us."
"They were dressed in C-Sec uniforms," Obi-Wan said.
"You don't think they really were security officers?" Astri asked.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. But they must have someone inside the force. Someone who could plant false information."
Padmé's hands felt clammy. She wiped them on her pants as she stood. "Then we have to get you back to the Temple as quickly as possible. A taxi, maybe."
"I can call one." Astri levered herself to her feet and rubbed her lower back.
"No." Obi-Wan's tone was firm. "If they're announcing it on the news, that means they've issued a PWA."
"What's a PWA?" Padmé asked.
"Planet wide alert." Obi-Wan stood and met Padmé's puzzled gaze. "It means that every public transport vehicle will have our picture, and every citizen using the transport system will have to thumb a scan pad as they get on board. We can do whatever we want to change our outward appearance, but by the time we get where we're going, security will be waiting. And I get the feeling they will shoot first and ask questions after, especially if there are squads of C-Sec officers on hand who are really terrorists that would love to see me take the blame for their deed."
"Can't I just open a link directly to the Temple?" Astri asked. "You could ask them to come and get you."
"The attackers will be monitoring all communications, hoping for that very thing."
"What about using the Force to contact someone?" Padmé suggested.
"If they're as thorough as I suspect they are, they'll be watching for any unusual movement at the Temple. And I can't risk the political fallout that could bombard the Jedi if there is even a whisper that the Order as a whole had anything to do with this attack. We've been under close scrutiny ever since it became public knowledge that the separatists are led by a former Jedi."
"So to protect themselves, the Jedi will cut you loose and just hope you can make it back on your own?" Padmé crossed her arms, frustration rising.
A hard edge crept into Obi-Wan's voice. "I'm the one doing the cutting here, Padmé. I'll not place the Order in an untenable position. Neither will I risk you. I think you should stay here with Astri until it's safe for someone to come and get you."
Padmé narrowed her eyes. "And where are you going?"
"Back to the Temple."
"Which is where Mace told you to take me. Isn't that what you told me on the way here? You aren't leaving me behind."
"I think it's safer if you stay here."
"If you leave without me, I will head straight for the consulate and give myself up to the nearest Coruscant Security officer."
Astri gasped. "You can't do that. It might be one of the attackers."
Padmé arched one brow and gave Obi-Wan a smug look. His expression turned deceptively blank. "Why are you being so ... unreasonable?"
Padmé just stared.
"Fine. Come with me." He crossed his arms and pinned her with a stony glare. "But you will do exactly as you're told, or I will let you turn yourself in."
"A hollow threat if I ever heard one," Padmé replied.
"Try me. The last thing I need is a --"
"A what, Obi-Wan? Wait. Let me guess. You don't want to have to worry about ... a sniveling politician slowing you down."
"Your description, not mine, Senator. Mace thought we should avoid the Senate, but maybe you should just return there on your own and claim you escaped my clutches. That ought to buy you a few choice newsvid interviews."
Padmé stiffened. "For your information, I do not snivel. And I'm not out to get my image on the news. If you're trying to get me angry so I'll stay behind, it's not going to work. Someone has to watch your back."
"If you're implying that I can't --"
Astri stepped between them. "Children. Enough bickering. You need to be getting on your way. My husband is somewhat taller and broader than you, Obi-Wan, so we should be able to find you something different to wear. And we do have to fix the hair so it's slightly more difficult to identify you."
Obi-Wan turned a puzzled face to Astri. "You have a husband?"
The woman patted her protruding stomach. "Don't they teach you the basics of reproduction at the Temple? Of course, I have a husband. He travels a lot, but he's around enough to make a difference. Unfortunately, he has our only vehicle, so I'll have to call a taxi to get to the Temple."
"Temple?" Obi-Wan said. "You aren't going to the Temple."
"Yes, I am. As soon as you leave. I'll return your things and let them know what you're planning. I just need a logical reason to go there -- someone's sure to ask."
Padmé suggested, "What about something to do with your pregnancy?"
"That's a wonderful idea. Is the healer who helped cure Didi all those years ago still working? What was her name?" Astri scanned Obi-Wan's face.
Padmé stepped beside Astri and looked to Obi-Wan expectantly. She watched his glance bounce between the two women and was sure she saw resignation flicker through those grey eyes.
"Winna di Yuni." Obi-Wan added, "And yes, she's still an active healer."
Padmé stifled a smirk. Astri said, "Perfect. I'm on my way to the Temple to consult with her about a complication that has arisen with my pregnancy. She'll recognize my name. No one would be suspicious of a woman in my delicate condition."
"You're about as delicate as a rock crusher, Astri," Obi-Wan replied with mock severity.
Padmé heard the affection in his voice and fought sudden surprise. That's silly, she told herself. Anakin can't possibly be the only Jedi who has feelings. Abruptly, Padmé turned away and moved to stare out a window while a chuckling Astri herded Obi-Wan into the bedroom. Padmé recalled the last time she had been together with Anakin. He chaffed under Obi-Wan's tutelage, claiming the man was an automaton, incapable of feeling, of understanding. But she could sense that something simmered under the normally serene surface of this Jedi. It was ... disturbing.
Did Obi-Wan suspect the truth of her and Anakin's relationship? Some of his actions had been so intimate, so ... unlike the Obi-Wan she thought she knew. It was almost like he was taunting her, daring her to tell him the truth. She had to remember to avoid his eyes. They saw too much.
Hair now black, slicked back and tied in the tiniest of ponytails. Beard darker. Tunic and leggings such a dark green they almost appeared black. The mandarin-styled tunic didn't look the slightest bit Jedi. Neither did the black sash at his waist. The lightsaber pressed against Obi-Wan's spine where it was tucked under the sash. Astri had offered to spray paint his brown boots, but he had declined. This was as good a transformation as they were going to get in less than twenty minutes.
Obi-Wan strode into the living room. Padmé turned from where she stood at the window and eyed him up and down. She said, "You should have done something to blacken the boots. They look out of place."
Astri shot him a triumphant look and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He stepped up to his old friend and clasped her shoulders, then gave her a brief hug, folding himself over her large abdomen. He laid his hand on Astri's stomach and gave her a stern look. "Take care of yourself, and of this little one." The baby chose that second to kick; Obi-Wan felt the nudge. He smiled and saw his reflection in Astri's eyes. He gave her another quick hug. "Thank you, Astri. Say hello to Didi for me."
"After you are safely home," Astri replied. "Didi couldn't keep a secret for all the cooking spices on Commenor."
Obi-Wan nodded and turned toward Padmé. He hesitated. She looked forlorn and brave at the same time. Guilt stabbed him. She might be a politician, but he couldn't imagine her sniveling. Exploding maybe. She struck him as a woman of strong convictions. Part of him did want her to come along so he could keep her under his protection; part of him desperately wanted her to stay behind. This was Coruscant -- a place where betrayal lurked in every other doorway.
Padmé's gaze locked onto his and Obi-Wan found himself unable to look away. Her brown eyes were like deep pools, drawing him in. How many negotiations had been won with this hypnotic gaze? A throat cleared. Obi-Wan dropped his gaze to Padmé's boots. His voice was gruff. "We'd better go."
Padmé slipped past him. Astri grabbed Obi-Wan's sleeve, her voice quiet, teasing. "Keep your eyes where they belong, Obi-Wan. And keep your little senator safe."
Obi-Wan whispered. "Don't jump to wrong conclusions, Astri. She is not, and never will be, my little senator. The only thing we have in common is my padawan." He silently added, I don't even like the woman.
Astri didn't understand. No one did. Not when it came to the unattached lifestyle of the Jedi. It was too costly to be romantically involved. It splintered your focus, sometimes led to madness and destruction, as it almost had with Qui-Gon. Besides, if he were free to be romantically inclined, it would be with someone who shared his ideals, not with someone as self-centered and shifty as a ... politician. Wouldn't that make Luminara laugh? At least it might make her smile. She had been so solemn and withdrawn since her padawan, Bariss, had been killed on Geonosis. He missed his friend's smile. Obi-Wan frowned, setting aside the distracting thoughts, as he followed after Padmé.
At the end of the alley they paused and Obi-Wan pointed out the public turbolift on the other side of a footbridge. He told Padmé that he'd be right behind her, and not to look back. Padmé nodded once, lifted her chin, and entered the river of pedestrians. Her orange-brown figure was easy to track, which bothered Obi-Wan a little. But she certainly didn't resemble the Senator from Naboo. And no one would associate a lone female with a kidnapping.
When Padmé was just stepping onto the bridge, Obi-Wan melted into the living current. He slouched a little, assuming a posture and gait that made it appear he was strolling, when, in fact, he was gaining on Padmé. He was a little more than a meter away from her when he paused to linger on the arching span. He peered into the chasm for a few seconds, watching her progress from the corner of his eye. She was nearing the turbolift, so Obi-Wan spun and headed in her direction, his stride loose.
A familiar blue uniform approached Padmé from the other direction. Obi-Wan held his breath until the C-Sec officer passed her, oblivious to her identity. When the Jedi met the officer, he stepped aside and inclined his head in greeting. The officer returned the gesture and continued on his way.
A small smile on his lips, Obi-Wan picked up his pace. Padmé was shaking her head to an offer to enter an already full lift. She crossed her arms and waited for the next lift, tapping her toe. The lift opened and she stepped on. Obi-Wan sprinted the last two meters and caught the door just before it closed. He smiled and shrugged at the beings on the lift, then wheeled and faced the front.
Padmé's presence on his left registered acutely in his awareness. Obi-Wan stared at the indicator lights as the lift dropped to its next stop, where most of the beings spilled onto the street. He braced the door open for them, nodding to each one in turn. The next stop saw the remaining few beings exit.
Obi-Wan pressed the touch pad, sending the lift plummeting another 75 levels.
"Heading for the basement, are we?" Padmé whispered.
"You have no idea. We won't even be halfway to the ground."
The lift lurched to a halt and Obi-Wan exited, stepping over an oily puddle, then offering his hand to assist Padmé. She halted a step beyond the puddle and stared. The light was murky, with only a slash of blue high above hinting at sunshine. Inky shadows sprawled across the walkway with lazy menace. Carelessly strewn garbage added to the obstacle course looming before them. No breeze stirred, and noxious odors eddied in the wake of beings plowing to their destinations with heads down.
It never ceased to amaze Obi-Wan how densely populated Coruscant was, even at this level. When you lived your life in the heights, it was easy to forget anything or anyone lived below you. And those eking out an existence lower yet were all but forgotten.
Padmé wrinkled her nose. "It gets worse than this lower down?"
"Oh, yes. The lowest levels make this look like a stroll through some palace gardens," Obi-Wan replied as he grasped her elbow and propelled her forward. "We are no where near the underbelly of Coruscant. This is more like ... the armpit."
"Well it certainly smells like it."
"You'll get used to it."
"I doubt it. The whole place needs a good long shower."
"Did you notice that puddle back at the turbolift? That's the condition of the rain at this level. Believe me, you don't want a shower." Obi-Wan guided Padmé around a pile of rags that twitched and muttered.
A few minutes later, Padmé asked, "Aren't we rather conspicuous in these outfits?"
"Because they're neat and clean? Not to worry. You'd be surprised how many upper level denizens descend to these depths to get their thrills. Plenty of gambling dens and inns are ready to take their money and give them a walk on the wild side. But no matter how they're dressed, they're easy to spot. Just look for the ones who are visibly nervous."
"So you're telling me, whatever I do, don't act afraid."
"They smell fear down here. It seems to incite bloodlust."
Silence fell. Obi-Wan dropped his hand to the small of Padmé's back to steer her around a haphazard pile of broken duracrates that was undoubtedly someone's home. Though she had tensed, he didn't remove the hand. They needed to appear as a 'couple' to anyone who happened to notice them. Heat from Padmé's body pooled in his palm and coiled up his arm. Even with garishly orange hair, she really was far too pretty to ignore. Obi-Wan snatched his hand away.
