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Padme froze. Her stomach clenched as Obi-Wan's lips began to explore hers. At his gentle coaxing, the desire to respond began to surface. Padmé fought against it, though she found herself unable to move away. She stared at his eyelids, willing him to look at her, to realize what he was doing before she no longer cared.
How long had this desire lay submerged in the back of his mind? Her lips were soft and pliable under his. Obi-Wan groaned quietly. The longing to see Luminara's shocking blue eyes drove his own open. He found himself staring into round orbs of liquid brown.
Shock rippled through Obi-Wan's being. He jerked back and wheeled away. His chest heaved. How did Padmé get him to do things, say things he would never ... ?
What had he done?
"Sweet Naboo," Padmé whispered, her voice shaky. "That was quite the conversation."
Obi-Wan's voice was hoarse. "Force, Padmé, I'm s--"
"Don't say it, Obi-Wan. I know you weren't kissing me. She must be very special. I thought you said passion clouded the mind."
His throat constricted. "We are ... just ... friends."
Obi-Wan cringed at her quiet snort. She said, "Is that so? Then you have an amazing amount of self-control."
"You say that like it's a curse."
"I think maybe it is."
"We are Jedi. We are friends." Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut. That is all they would ever, could ever be. He swallowed; the knowledge tasted bitter.
"What if you weren't Jedi?"
Obi-Wan inhaled calm, pivoted and folded his arms across his chest. "What ifs are pointless. The real question is: What were you trying to achieve? Were you trying to make the Jedi admit he is weak, succumb to his emotions, what?"
Padme pressed her lips together. A long moment later she said, "None of that. I want you to trust me, Obi-Wan. I want you to ..." She frowned. "To look at me with the same ... joy ... that filled your eyes when you saw Astri, a friend you hadn't talked to in fourteen years, was it? But the years fell away from you and I saw an Obi-Wan that ... that I wanted to know. I'm sorry if you don't think me worthy of your friendship, because I think you worthy of mine." She strode to the window and stared into the street.
Obi-Wan watched her, his thoughts churning. He had never kissed Astri like that, but then he hadn't exactly kissed Padmé either -- from a certain point of view. He had heard the sincerity in Padmé's tone. Finally he crossed the room. He took her hand and tugged. They both slid down the wall and leaned against it. Another moment passed. Obi-Wan hesitated, then draped his arm across Padmé's shoulder. "I would be honored to name you friend, Padmé Naberrie. You are a fine woman and ... a credit to ... your profession."
She leaned her head on his shoulder. "You almost choked on those words, Obi-Wan. Be careful, lest you start taking a liking to politicians in general."
A silent chuckle shook his frame. "Not much chance of that happening." He paused. "You won't mention that kiss to Anakin, will you?"
"What do you care? It's not like it meant anything."
Obi-Wan frowned. "That's a very good question." A thought danced out of reach on the edge of his knowing. "Maybe you can tell me that, Padmé. Why do I care? What am I not understanding here?"
Padmé stiffened and started to pull away. "I am tired, Obi-Wan. Please tell me we aren't going to spend the night walking."
Obi-Wan cocked one eyebrow. Now who was avoiding? He would let her. For now. "I think we can get a few hours sleep. I'm not sure, but I don't feel like it's time to move. Still, we do need to get back to the Temple. Or rather, we need to find a way to contact the Temple without attracting notice."
Padmé relaxed back against his shoulder. "What about Astri? If she was successful at entering the Temple once, she might be able to do it again."
"If ..." Obi-Wan nodded. "I think you're right. She's our best hope. If she can get word to them, they can send someone for us."
"How do we contact her."
"That's the easy part. The office downstairs has a comlink."
"And the hard part?"
"Maybe there isn't one." His words sounded weak, even to his own ears.
Astri bit the inside of her mouth as another contraction gripped her stomach for a full ten seconds. They weren't growing more powerful yet, but they were becoming more frequent. She glared at the captor eyeing her from her couch, steadfastly refusing to show the slightest weakness or reveal to him that she was in labor.
The swarthy human rubbed the thick stubble coating his jaw and said nothing. He was the leader of this little group, she knew. Astri despised his silence and his crafty gaze. Black feral eyes that seemed to miss nothing. When they'd first broken into the apartment, he'd made mention of tracking her connection to Obi-Wan through C-Sec files after her visit to the Temple, but he was no C-Sec officer. The sloppy way he wore the uniform told her that much. When he'd questioned her, she knew her eyes had told him what he'd wanted to know -- that Obi-Wan had been here. She hated herself for giving him away like that. She hated this man for making her betray her Jedi friend. So she focused on that hate. If all he saw in her eyes was hatred, he wouldn't find any more answers.
The sound of the two accomplices rummaging through her bedroom and office drifted down the hall. Horror at the violation she was being subjected to rose in her mind. Another contraction clamped down and she gripped the arms of the chair. Definitely harder this time. Astri struggled to keep her breathing calm and even. Fifteen seconds. She silently cursed all of that pre-natal training that had reinforced timing everything: the lengths of contractions, the breaks in-between. It was agony to think her baby was going to be born this night with these vile men her only attendants.
Three hours. Why had they stayed so long? What were they looking for? Why couldn't they just find it and leave?
Barely five minutes later another contraction hardened her abdomen. Astri squeezed her eyes shut and tried to absorb the pain. When it passed, she stared straight ahead and whispered, "Please leave. I don't have whatever it is you're looking for."
The captor pushed his stocky body off the couch and took two long strides to stand over her. He used the barrel of his blaster to lift her chin and drilled his gaze into hers. "You don't seem to understand. You are what we want. You are the key. The Jedi used you once to contact the Temple. We have given him no choice but to use you again."
"You don't know Obi-Wan if that's what you think. He will find a way. He will walk halfway across the planet if that's what it takes."
"If he were alone, I might agree with you. But he's not alone, is he?"
Astri glared at the man. By the stars, she hated him. He sneered and returned to the couch.
Three contractions later, the accomplices returned to the lounge, eating Astri's food and drinking Astri's beverages. She glared at them with all the loathing she could muster. The young dark-skinned human wouldn't meet her gaze. The Bothan laughed and tossed a juice container to the leader, who caught it and set it on the floor by his feet.
Six contractions after that the comlink went off. Astri's gaze shot to the black eyes of her captor. Didi, please let it be Didi. Or Gelff. Not ... The Bothan grabbed the back of her tunic and hauled her to her feet. He shoved her toward the receiver unit and she fell to her knees with a cry. A contraction gripped her belly. The blaster lifted her chin again, and she stared into the face of the leader kneeling beside her. His eyes scanned her face as she blinked away droplets of sweat. Astri's breathing turned shallow as fear and pain mixed together.
The leader pressed his blaster to Astri's stomach and said, "Answer it. If it's him, cooperate fully. Find out where he's at."
Astri nodded shakily. He toggled the audio switch. She took a breath and said, "Astri here."
"Astri? It's Obi-Wan." Her heart sank. "We need your help. Did you manage to get into the Temple yesterday?"
"Y-yes. No trouble a-at all."
A pause and Obi-Wan asked, "Are you okay, Astri?"
The leader shot her a warning look. "F-fine. Baby's just acting up, that's all."
"Oh. Listen, is there any chance you could find a reason to go back tonight? I don't know, maybe use your pregnancy as an excuse again? If not, early morning would work, I suppose."
"Tonight is okay." Astri glanced at the blaster threatening her unborn babe. "I ... I could pretend to be in early labor."
"Perfect. I need you to get our location to them. We hitched a ride and ended way too far away from the Temple to walk. We need them to send a Jedi to pick us up. Just one. Understand?"
Astri sighed inwardly. The blaster nudged her stomach. "Go ahead, Obi-Wan. I'm listening."
He rattled off the coordinates. "Got that?" Astri glanced at the leader and he nodded. "Y-yes, Obi-Wan. I've got it."
"Great. We're in a warehouse in the middle of the block. The name V-2 Industries is on the outside. Big letters. Hard to miss."
"I'll tell them. Be careful, Obi-Wan."
"You know me, Astri. We'll be fine. I'd better go. And thanks." The link went dead.
Defeat rang through her thoughts as Astri got one foot under her and started to push up. Her water broke with a gush, soaking her pants and puddling on the floor.
The Bothan cried, "What the--"
"Nothing to worry about," said the leader. "Our helpful little missus is in labor. That's all."
Astri stared at the floor as fat teardrops dripped off her chin and plopped into the puddle. He'd known all along. Energy leaked from her pores.
The leader lifted her chin again. "Describe us to any authorities, and we will know. Do that, and I will come back, or send another, to kill this baby that is struggling to be born. Do you understand?"
Astri nodded. The leader stood and stepped away.
A blast sizzled through the air and melted the comlink. Startled, Astri jerked away and stared at the man, horror stamping her mind and features. A contraction seized her and held her in an unrelenting grip. She sank to the floor, biting her tongue to stop from crying out, as her three tormentors looked on.
"Let's just kill her and get on with it," the Bothan said.
The contraction tightened even more as silent screams echoed through Astri's mind.
"No," the leader said, his tone harsh. "To kill a politician is a statement. To kill a helpless, pregnant woman is murder."
"What about killing a Jedi?" the Bothan asked.
"When he's protecting a political leader? That's simply expedient." The leader strode toward the stairs. "Seal shut both the door and the lift with your blasters. Then we'll go hunting."
The contraction faded along with the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Astri crawled to her chair and managed to pull herself up to sit on the footstool. She reached down the front of her tunic and pulled Healer di Yuni's comlink from between her breasts, thankful the monsters hadn't thought to strip-search her. Fingers shaking, she flipped the unit open and activated it.
Seconds later the healer's voice crackled from the speaker. "Winna di Yuni."
"It's Astri Oddo calling. This is an emergency."
"Speak, child."
Astri quickly told of her captors and Obi-Wan's call and location. "You have to get someone over there. Quickly." She gasped as another contraction set in with alarming speed and intensity.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Winna demanded.
"The baby!" Astri cried. "My baby's coming."
"You must get here, child. Right away. Such a traumatic onset--"
"I'm locked in. I can't ..." Panic magnified by pain stole her words. She panted, anxiety blanking her mind. Winna's sharp voice pulled her thoughts away from the all-consuming agony.
"Get to your bed. Get as comfortable as possible. Keep this link open. I'll talk you through things until I get there." A brief pause. "Do you understand, child?"
Astri gasped, forced the words out. "Yes. Bed."
The contraction reluctantly eased its hold and Astri forced herself to stand. She walked gingerly toward her bedroom, leaning heavily on one hand propped against the wall, while the other clutched her lifeline to sanity. She vaguely heard Winna calling out instructions, speaking on another comlink. She was almost to the bedroom door when another contraction drove her to her knees. She cried out.
Winna's voice was loud and steady. "I'm on my way, child. Stay calm. Breathe."
Astri struggled to focus on the soothing tone as she sank to the floor, unable to move, caught in a vise grip like she'd never imagined. Gelff and I are going to have words over this. That Selonian owes me big time.
"Astri? Astri? Are you with me, child?"
Astri's gasping breaths echoed around the hallway. "I, I don't think you're going to get here in time. I don't think--" Pain crashed through her mind and she crammed her knuckles in her mouth to muffle the scream straining to break loose.
Obi-Wan ran his fingers over the comlink controls, a scowl darkening his expression. Padmé leaned up against the edge of the desk. "What's wrong, Obi-Wan?"
He shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure. I sensed an unusual amount of fear in Astri's voice, and that's not like her at all."
"So what do we do?"
"The only thing we can do. We wait. Astri's word is good. Though it might not hurt to explore this place a little and see if there's a back door."
"Why would we need a way out if help is coming?"
"Call it my natural caution surfacing. I have a bad feeling about this, and if I learned one thing from all those years as Qui-Gon's padawan, it's to trust my feelings."
Padmé smiled into his clouded, ever-so-serious eyes. The memory returned. He had kissed her. Well, it hadn't really been her he was kissing, but it had felt like it. And it had been nice. Very nice. She couldn't quite bring herself to feel guilty about that. She leaned forward. "I'm glad you trust your feelings."
Obi-Wan pulled back, as if he sensed her train of thought. "We have things to do."
"I know that. But I look into your eyes and see the Jedi rising to the surface, and I can't help but want to sit with my friend for a few moments more."
His eyes softened to the color of the sky on a hazy summer day. A smile grew. "You are a strange woman, Padmé Naberrie. Anakin is lucky to have you for a friend. As am I."
A looming melancholy seemed to cling to the gloomy recesses of her mind, and Padmé sighed wistfully as she slipped to her feet. It was harder being Obi-Wan's friend than being his adversary. She wanted, more than ever, to tell him the truth. And now she had another secret to keep. Obi-Wan had kissed her. No, Padmé admonished herself, he had kissed Luminara. But she still wouldn't mention it to Anakin.
Following Obi-Wan around the warehouse, dimly lit by street and traffic light seeping in through the high windows, Padmé watched with a twinge of regret as the Jedi came to the fore while he searched the building, studied the layout, and paused to consider each area. His casual stroll became lithe stalking. His attention seemed to radiate outwards while remaining intently focused. The confident aura dared lurking shadows to attack.
With each passing moment, Padmé felt more distanced from him. The Obi-Wan who had welcomed her friendship had retreated so deep inside the Jedi that barely a trace of him remained. Padmé stared at the lightsaber in Obi-Wan's hand and the way his thumb idly stroked a ridge on the hilt as he studied the entrances. He didn't acknowledge her existence, and she knew he was dismissing her in his planning.
Planting her hands on her hips, she said, "Well?"
His gaze snapped to her face. He spun and strode across the floor. "Come."
Padmé struggled to shunt aside annoyance as she jogged to keep up. Obi-Wan skirted a pile of duracrates in the far corner and halted. Padmé moved to his side and followed his downward gaze. She asked, "Why are we staring at the floor?"
"There's a sewage grate under this crate." He crouched and pointed at a few millimeters of metal lip peeking out from under the large box. "All we have to do is shift the crate and we have our back door."
Padmé wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. The crate scraped loudly across the ferrocrete as they pushed it back. Obi-Wan hefted the heavy metal lid, setting it aside, and suddenly stepped into thin air, letting himself drop down the shaft. Padmé gasped and peered over the edge. A short distance below, the blue glow from Obi-Wan's lightsaber bathed his features and the glistening walls of the tunnel. The light extinguished and she jerked backwards as he leaped straight up, wheeling in mid-air to land beside the hole.
"It's a little cramped, but we won't be crawling on hands and knees."
"If you're so certain that we'll have to leave that way, why don't we just go now? Why stay and fight?"
"Because there's always a chance I'm wrong. And if I'm not, I should very much like to find out who's hunting us."
"That's simple: someone who wants us both dead."
Obi-Wan cast her an unreadable glance and turned his attention to the other side of the building. His weight shifted subtly. From her own training, Padmé knew the signs. Battle stance.
"You hear something?" she whispered.
His reply was hushed. "Danger sense. Someone's coming."
"Maybe it's the other Jedi we're waiting for."
"He'd be broadcasting through the Force, searching for me, warning me of his approach." Obi-Wan turned toward her, his face a mixture of shadows, dark and darker. "If I go down, take to the sewers until the end of the block. You still have the credit chip? Use it to get to the Temple. No. Try Chancellor Palpatine. He's closer. He'll keep you safe. Should have thought to send you there in the first place."
Padmé lifted her chin. "I'm not leaving without you, Obi-Wan. Friends don't do that."
Gently, he grasped her jaw with one hand. "The only thing that will prevent me from leaving with you is death, Padmé. And I'm a difficult Jedi to kill." He released her. "Watch my back. Wasn't that your excuse for coming on this little jaunt?"
Obi-Wan paced the middle of the shadowy docking area and halted, face to the doors. He shook out his shoulders and became very still. Padmé blinked. If she hadn't known he was there, she might have missed him, even though he stood in the open.
Padmé peered over the top of a duracrate and clung to the hope that they were over-reacting. Minutes later, that hope shattered when the side door blew into the warehouse.
Padme winced as the warehouse door crashed to the floor less than two meters from Obi-Wan. He didn't stir. Blue uniforms streamed through the opening. Someone thought to hit the light panel and banks of overhead lighting flickered to life. The uniforms froze momentarily at the sight of the man, clad in dark green, standing motionless in the middle of the floor, the lightsaber in his hand the only hint he was Jedi. One uniform waved his hand, and the others came to life, stringing out in front of the docking bay door.
The first uniform took a half step forward. "Are you Obi-Wan Kenobi?"
"I am," the Jedi replied.
"You're under arrest."
"Show me your arrest warrant."
The leader nodded; the eight men crouched and began firing. But Obi-Wan was already leaping high and to his right. He landed on crates three meters from where Padmé hid and smoothly deflected a second hail of red bolts. One man fell victim to a ricocheted shot.
Obi-Wan leapt again. He landed in the midst of the string of attackers A slicing arch of blue cut down two men. Obi-Wan side-stepped; a shot meant for him caught another. He lunged, spearing one man, then wheeled and cut the blaster out of the next one's hand.
Spinning again, Obi-Wan faced off against the two remaining assailants. Fear and anger were stamped on their faces. Padmé watched with baited breath as the scene momentarily froze. She could hear the drone of Obi-Wan's blade and the ragged breathing of his opponents. And then red fire spewed from the blasters. Obi-Wan advanced slowly, parrying each bolt with apparent ease.
A hand clamped over her mouth. Padmé cried out, but the sound was lost in the meaty fingers that were almost smothering her. She was pulled backwards and slammed against another crate. A glittering hazel gaze bored into hers and a blaster dug into the base of her neck. She scanned the dirty blond hair and broad face of the man who had led this attack.
"Not a sound," he whispered as he lowered his hand from her mouth. "Or Naboo will lose its pretty little senator."
Defiant, Padmé replied, "I thought that's what you wanted."
"All in good time. Let's see how your bodyguard is faring." He grabbed Padmé's wrist and twisted it around, forcing it up high between her shoulder blades. Padmé gasped, arcing her body slightly to the side to try and relieve the pressure. The blaster migrated to the side of her neck.
The man sidestepped into the open in time to see Obi-Wan wheel towards them as the last attacker sank to the floor. The Jedi spotted Padmé and hesitated, then started forward, his pace measured. He flicked off his lightsaber and continued advancing.
"Do you want to see her die here and now?" the leader asked. "Toss the weapon down, Jedi."
Obi-Wan halted and did as he was told. The lightsaber rolled to a stop beside Padmé's toe. Obi-Wan took another step forward. "You'd be wise to release her. Your men are all dead or injured. It will go better for you if you show some prudence here."
"You're the one who should have thought to restrain yourself. Though I do thank you for the impressive scenes of carnage you have provided for the newsvids. They'll eat up the story of the rogue Jedi who kills C-Sec officers with the same nonchalance used to murder a senator."
"No one would believe that."
"They already do." The blaster shifted again and pressed against the side of Padmé's head, just above her ear. She stared intently at Obi-Wan, clinging to the calm in his gaze. She did not want to give her captor the satisfaction of sensing her fear.
Padmé forced herself to speak. "I don't understand what you seek to gain, with the attack on the consulate or with my death. Can't you at least tell me why I have to die?"
"When the false governments fall, the true one shall reign." He crouched, forcing Padmé down with him. "Pick up the Jedi's weapon."
Padmé reached down with her free hand and felt around blindly. Her fingers found the hilt and wrapped around it. The lightsaber was still warm from Obi-Wan's touch. She was jerked upright. Obi-Wan glanced from the weapon to her face.
The terrorist said, "Now hold it against your gut, right below the ribs."
Dread turned her breathing shallow. Padmé met Obi-Wan's gaze. She could almost feel him willing her to stay calm. Without taking his eyes off her, Obi-Wan said, "If you do this thing, you will be dead three seconds after her."
"And my mission will be a success." He nudged Padmé with the blaster. "Do it."
"Do it yourself, you coward!" Padmé cried. She flung the lightsaber at Obi-Wan and threw herself to the ground. Her shoulder wrenched painfully and she twisted, landing on her back. The terrorist stumbled and swung the blaster toward her. A humming blue light flashed past her face. The blaster, hand still attached, cartwheeled away.
Padmé rolled away as Obi-Wan hopped over her. He grabbed the terrorist by the neck and jammed his now unlit lightsaber hard into the man's midsection, making the air whoosh out of him. The Jedi snarled.
She struggled to her feet, clutching her throbbing shoulder, then moved to stand beside Obi-Wan. Fear flickered through the terrorist's eyes, then disappeared as he glanced to Padmé and back. "You're the coward, Jedi. Not me. Do it." Obi-Wan shoved the lightsaber a little deeper. The terrorist sneered. "Coward."
"Unlike you," Obi-Wan whispered harshly, "I do not shed unnecessary blood. Not even when the blood runs through the veins of a worthless bottom feeder such as yourself." Obi-Wan took a half step back, jerked the lightsaber out and up, and cracked the man on the temple. He crumpled at the Jedi's feet.
"I though you wanted to find out who was after us. I don't think you'll get him to talk now."
Obi-Wan stared at the limp form. "Oh ... right. I'm afraid the sight of him about to kill you put it out of my mind."
Turning to Padmé, Obi-Wan gathered her into his arms. He pressed his cheek against her head and whispered, "Thank the Force you're so brave, Padmé. I never would have forgiven myself ... Anakin ..." He squeezed. Her breath caught. Obi-Wan held her at arm's length. "What?"
"My shoulder. It's nothing."
He started to reach toward it when the wail of sirens caused them both to stop. The sound was growing louder, quickly.
"More C-Sec," Padmé said. She glanced at the uniformed man at their feet. "Do we wait so see if these ones are legitimate?"
Obi-Wan peered toward the gaping doorway. He shook his head. "Even real C-Sec officers will be likely to open fire when they spot this mess. They won't immediately know these aren't their own men. We'd better retreat."
Padmé sighed. "Why did I know you were going to say that?" She gripped her upper arm to keep her shoulder immobile, walked over to the severed hand, grimaced as she removed the blaster from it, tucking the weapon under her sash. She faced Obi-Wan. "Lead on, friend."
Yoda stood in the middle of the empty room and pivoted, face tilted upward and eyes closed. Echoes of the Force were vibrant in this place, shimmering as they transformed the room into a cocoon of light. He opened his eyes and stared at the blank blue wall for a long moment, curious as to why Padmé and Obi-Wan would leave behind such a strong residue of peace in this place, especially when he considered the scene that had greeted them upon entering the warehouse. Lips pursed, he turned and shuffled out onto the catwalk to look down upon the warehouse floor.
Off to the left, near the bottom of the stairs, medics attended a group of four wounded men dressed in C-Sec uniforms. They were guarded by other men in C-Sec uniforms. Yoda sighed. Such a mess. Thankfully, Jedi Knight Rura-Kel had arrived on the heels of the C-Sec unit dispatched to the scene as backup. He had been able to convince the unit commander to run a check on the supposed C-Sec men they'd found littering the warehouse like kurdu logs on the beach after a typhoon.
The Jedi Master's gaze was drawn to the large bay door where five covered bodies were neatly lined up, awaiting transport to the C-Sec morgue. Off to the side of the bodies, Mace Windu leaned on a cane, yet still managed to glower down at the grim, golden-skinned commander. It was time to intercede.
Yoda made his way slowly down the stairs. Was there ever a man as stubborn as Mace? He should be resting. The day previous he had been teetering on becoming one with the Force; now he felt it was his personal duty to find Obi-Wan and bring him back to the Temple, just because he had given the younger Jedi this assignment.
A fickle thing, honor is. Yoda paused at the bottom of the stairs and scanned the wounded men. Hazel eyes brimming with hate glared back at him. Yoda narrowed his gaze, taking in the bump on the man's temple and the right arm that ended in a cauterized stump. There was no mistaking the lightsaber wound -- or the light of fanaticism glittering in those eyes. This man would gladly die for whatever or whomever had started this terrible chain of events. Death before dishonor. Yoda sighed again. Were the Jedi any different? Not fanatics perhaps, but willing to die for what they saw as right. He shook off his melancholy thoughts and nodded to the man with the hazel eyes. The man sneered, then spat on the floor.
Gimer stick tapping, Yoda made his way to where Mace and the C-Sec commander stood deep in conversation. He took in the pale lines wreathing Mace's mouth and radiating out from his eyes. The dark-skinned Jedi Master had almost reached his limits of endurance. He needed to rest. But Yoda knew he wouldn't.
The commander, arms crossed, black bushy eyebrows straining to meet, glanced down at Yoda and nodded curtly. Mace kept his gaze glued to the C-Sec officer and said, "Commander Skelty refuses to retract the L-5 alert about Obi-Wan, even though he realizes it practically amounts to a death warrant."
The commander scowled. "We've been over this already, Master Windu. Until the identities of these men are confirmed, we have to treat this as multiple homicide. And combined with the earlier evidence tying Kenobi to the explosion, we have little choice but to list him as armed and extremely dangerous."
"That evidence was planted, and you know it," Mace said.
"I know you said it was planted."
Yoda's gaze bounced between the two men. Before Mace could retort, Yoda said, "Arguing in circles, you are, while Obi-Wan gets farther away."
"Rura-Kel went down the sewers to see if he could get a sense of which way Obi-Wan went," Mace said. He glared at Skelty. "And if he finds anything, Jedi will continue the search."
"This is a C-Sec investigation. You are bound by your own Jedi precepts to assist us, not stand in our way. You will hand over any clues or evidence you discover."
"Obi-Wan is a Jedi. We will find him and return him to the Temple."
"I'm looking at dead bodies in C-Sec uniforms. Kenobi did that. C-Sec is bringing him in."
"Dead or alive?" snarled Mace.
"Right now, I don't care," Skelty replied.
"Stop!" Yoda whacked his gimer stick on the ferrocrete. The two men startled and looked down at him. Yoda planted both hands on his stick and said, "Cooperate fully with Coruscant Security Forces, we will." He cut off Mace's reply with a glance. "And expect C-Sec to give Obi-Wan the benefit of the doubt, I do. Serious charges, these are, but many questions surround them. Interrogate Obi-Wan's friend, Astri, we must. And the identities of these men must be discovered. Focus on the blond one with the stump, you need to." He paused. "As for Obi-Wan, Commander, warn your men not to shoot first, you should. Responsible, you do not want to be, for more deaths of men in security uniforms. One of our best warriors, Obi-Wan is. Blasters will not stop him."
Skelty hesitated, then nodded and sent a chagrined glance Mace's way. With a similar expression, Mace extended his hand. Skelty grasped it and said, "We'll find him. Together."
"Together," Mace echoed.
Satisfied, Yoda nodded, though a corner of his mind remained skeptical that Obi-Wan would be found, especially if he had headed toward the surface. Few Jedi and fewer C-Sec officers knew the depths of Coruscant as well as Obi-Wan -- he'd often been forced to chase through those murky levels in pursuit of his padawan.
A swarthy C-Sec officer stepped up to the group and saluted the commander. His black gaze slipped to Yoda and Mace, then returned to Skelty. "Sir. I'd like to extend the search parameters and bring in more bodies to aid in the search."
Skelty glanced at Mace, who shrugged. "Permission granted, Major. I'll leave the details in your capable hands. Just remind the men to be cautious -- and not to shoot first."
"Will do. But ... " The major's regard dropped to the row of bodies laid out at their feet. "They might not listen, sir, given the circumstances." He saluted again and strode away, his broad back stiff and unyielding.
Yoda frowned. "Trust this man, do you?"
"Major Tem's been with C-Sec for years. I've never seen him without his uniform looking like he's slept in it for several nights running. Drives me crazy. But, yes, I trust him."
Yoda didn't reply, the major already dismissed from his thoughts. Puzzled as to why Obi-Wan was shielding so strongly, Yoda closed his eyes and quested through the Force, as he'd done so often in the past 30 hours. But beyond the trace of the young Knight that Yoda sensed in this place, he could find nothing.
Yoda glanced back up at the open door on the upper level and heaved an inner sigh.
Obi-Wan had pushed Padmé as fast and as far as she could go. Now, 90 levels down and five kilometers away from the warehouse, he stopped. Padmé stumbled against him and he carefully guided her into an alley, empty except for a nest of rodents inside a broken crate. He settled her on a pile discarded slats and crouched beside her.
The Jedi winced at the pain radiating off her like heat off a malfunctioning hyperdrive. He swiped her brow and ran a thumb along her cheekbone. Softly he said, "Let's take a look at that shoulder now."
"Did we lose them?" Her voice sounded weak.
"I hope so."
"Wh-what happened to your Jedi contact?"
"I doubt Astri ever contacted the Temple. I believe she must have been discovered by our pursuers. Nothing else could explain the fear I sensed in her voice, or the sudden appearance of those attackers."
"I hope she's okay. They wouldn't harm a pregnant woman, would they?"
Seeing again in his mind, the hate-filled eyes and the blaster held to Padmé's head, Obi-Wan swallowed the answer that rose to his lips. Instead he prodded Padmé's shoulder gently. She gasped loudly, and moaned as he continued his examination. Finally, he said, "It's amazing you made it this far without collapsing. I'm no healer, but I'm pretty sure you've dislocated it. We'll need to set it back in proper alignment."
"Will it hurt?"
"About like setting a broken bone with no anesthetic, I expect."
"Oh? Is that all?" Her attempt at levity faded into a sigh. "Have you ever had that done to you?"
"Yes. Once or twice."
"So, what are we waiting for? If you can do it, I can."
Obi-Wan took Padmé's hand and caressed it. "Perhaps I should use a Force suggestion to put you to sleep."
"Just do it, Obi-Wan."
The Jedi hesitated, recalling the painful procedure -- painful even with the Force's cushioning presence. In the dark alley, he couldn't see Padmé's eyes, but he knew they were shining with determination. Air leaked from his lungs and he whispered for her to ready herself.
Laying his hands gently on her shoulder, Obi-Wan stretched out through the Force to determine exactly which way the bones had to be shifted. When he was certain of what had to be done, he gritted his teeth and tightened his grip. Padmé tensed. Obi-Wan jerked his arm, hard and fast. Padmé screamed and went limp in his arms.
The scratching and scurrying of small frightened animals rose, then died away. In the near distance, the feral howl of an awakened hunter rent the uneasy silence.
Her moan changed to a long, drawn-out 'Ahhhhhhhhhh!" When the contraction finally passed, Astri collapsed against the headboard, desperately sucking in oxygen.
"How much longer?" Her voice was as ragged as her breathing.
The blue-robed Jedi healer sat on the edge of the bed. "Soon, very soon."
"It's been going on so long. There ... there must be something wrong." Astri tried to summon the mental energy to battle growing panic.
Winna di Yuni took Astri's hand. "Such is the way with first deliveries. Everything is proceeding just fine. It is normal to feel anxious, child, especially when your lifemate is not at your side."
The pressure of another contraction began to build. Through clenched teeth, Astri said, "If he were here, I'd kill him."
With a soft smile, Winna replied, "That is a normal reaction, as well."
The pain washed over Astri, consuming her. She clung to the healers hand. The contractions were almost continuous now -- 90 seconds long with only fifteen to twenty seconds rest between each one. It seemed a lifetime ago that a Jedi Knight, with Winna a step behind, had broken into the apartment and found her at the foot of her bed. The hours since then had been a blur of pain and the marshaling of energy to face more pain.
The next fifteen minutes passed in relative silence, except for the sound of Astri's labored breathing. Winna held her hand, wiped her brow, gently caressed her abdomen.
Astri's eyes flew open. "I - I need to push. Now!"
Squeezing her hand, Winna replied, "Not yet, child. Ride out the feeling. Short breaths. Don't push."
Astri tried to ignore the growing need. She did as Winna asked, her breath expelling in rapid puffs. When the sensation eased, Winna positioned Astri's knees and placed Astri's hands upon them. She looked deep into Astri's gaze, her voice calm. "When the feeling returns, do as your body asks. Look in the mirror. Your baby is ready now."
Astri stared across the room to the full length mirror that Winna had, at some point, repositioned so it faced the bed. Her eyes grew large at the sight of her baby's head crowning. She blinked back moisture and smiled tentatively at the healer. Winna nodded.
The contraction went from barely there to durasteel in an eyeblink. The need to push overwhelmed Astri. She barely heard Winna's words of encouragement as she clutched her shins and pulled them toward her chest, straining with all her might. The contraction eased and Astri let her head fall back. It felt as if there was a melon trapped between her legs. The discomfort had barely registered when another vise grip clamped around her middle and she was again pushing with every last joule of energy.
In the mirror, Astri watched the baby's head emerge. Suddenly, the pressure was gone. She propped herself up on her elbows and Winna urged her on. One last little push and a red, already-squalling baby slipped into the Jedi healer's sure grip.
Astri stared at the baby -- her baby! -- with its scrunched up face and mop of wet, black hair and fist waving defiantly. Laughter and tears both bubbled over as Winna laid the babe in her arms.
He stood on the precipice, overlooking one of the millions of
Coruscant's canyons, and stared hungrily into the night. A C-Sec
officer of Bothan origins approached him.
"Major Tem?"
Conscious of eyes that could be watching, Tem refrained from a more familiar greeting and said, "Report, Lieutenant."
"The Jedi has returned. As you predicted, he could not determine Kenobi's path."
Tem nodded and asked, "Are the spy-bots prepared?"
"Yes, sir. They are programmed to survey every major intersection between here and the Jedi Temple, as you ordered."
"Very good. Order them released."
The Bothan saluted and marched toward the C-Sec mobile command center. Tem allowed himself the luxury of a sneer. As soon as the Jedi and the senator were dead, his mission would be at an end, and he could return to his honored leader's side. Another was already in place and being groomed to take over his role in C-Sec. It was time. Seven years in this duracrete cesspool was seven years too long. Though before he left, he wished he could meet whoever it was that was financing their efforts. He had once overheard the tail end of a communication that made it clear their benefactor lived on Coruscant. Even that wouldn't matter as soon as their goals were met.
Let other revolutionists waste their lives battling clones in a war they could not win. He would stand on his homeworld, a free man, sooner than any of them. Because he had a weapon he wielded with utmost efficiency. Terror. The terror of assassination. The terror that caused political leaders to quail and give way, fearing for their own lives.
It had felt good to be merciful to the Oddo woman, or rather, to her unborn babe. It would feel good to kill the senator and know her queen back on Naboo quivered with fear. But it would feel better to kill a Jedi.
Tem narrowed his eyes. Those Senate puppets had forced his people to accept a crippling treaty -- one that had subjected them to cruel masters and had all but destroyed their culture. Because of greed. Now the Clone War dominated Senate business and kept eyes away from their insignificant mid-rim homeworld, giving them the opportunity to win their freedom and regain control of their planet, of their lives. The Jedi, with their interfering ways, were the only creatures who could reasonably cut short their glorious plans. Tem peered into the chasm and whispered, "My prey never escapes, Kenobi. Get ready to die."
"A Jedi is always prepared to die."
Tem startled inwardly, but kept outwardly calm. He glanced askance at the approaching dark-skinned Jedi. He arched one black brow. "You move quietly for such a big man." He did not fear this man; he had been schooled in the art of deceiving Jedi.
Mace Windu halted beside Tem and said, "I would move more quietly if not for this cane." He peered into Tem's face. "So why should Obi-Wan be ready to die on this particular day?"
Tem carefully channeled his anger. "Five of my comrades were slain this night. Five good C-Sec officers, all trained to follow procedure. They would not have initiated this slaughter. Kenobi is a murderer."
"Nothing is certain. And your commander told you to pass the order not to shoot first."
"And I responded that the men might not listen."
"Meaning you are one of the ones not listening. Why?"
"We protect our own."
"So do we."
"The Jedi would go to war over this rogue member?"
"Obi-Wan is no rogue. There is an explanation for these events. He is a good and honorable man. Even as a child, his heart was as big as a rancor's."
"A rancor is good for nothing but killing."
"If you think that, you know nothing of those magnificent beasts." Mace leaned heavily on his cane. "You have a hard job ahead of you. Obi-Wan knows these streets well. I should leave you to it. Though I wanted to let you know your commander okayed my staying with the mobile unit. Perhaps we will have the opportunity to get to know and understand each other a little better."
"And what of your partner?"
"Partner?"
"The little green Jedi."
Mace studied him for a few seconds. "Master Yoda is returning to the Temple with Knight Rura-Kel. He wants to be there when Obi-Wan returns." The Jedi inclined his head and turned away.
Tem stared after the Jedi as he made his way to the mobile command unit. He carefully dampened his anger. That had been foolish, speaking his thoughts aloud. He had no intentions of slipping up again. The Jedi was suspicious of him. Let him be. It wouldn't save his friend.
Resigned, Tem shrugged. If he had to put up with a Jedi, at least it was the human one.
Perhaps it could be arranged for this Jedi to have a fatal accident. Tem's tight smile never reached his eyes. Two Jedi instead of just one. Great honor would be his if he could make it so.
