The Grey Divide

Sequel to Smoke and Mirrors. History is often only the edge of a chasm of secrets. While investigating a mysterious attack, Sabe is confronted with the prejudices of her people and the truths of her own heart.

Notes:

Sequel to Smoke and Mirrors, the second part in what will be a trilogy.

Chapter Text

Southern Wastelands, Naboo
31 BBY

The rocky expanse lined by giant trees appeared to be the work of some cataclysmic explosion. But it had been the whims of civilization that stripped the vegetation from 150 square miles, laying the land bare to the teeth and claws of erosion.

Now, a century later, thunder percussed the earth and stinging rain fell sideways, as if the forces of nature had still not forgiven the violation. Lightning struck one of the more exposed trees nearby, sparks showering as it fell into open space.

The walls of the abandoned mining office did very little to muffle the noise of the storm, and thin ribbons of rainwater streamed through the badly patched roof. Though he was continuously splattered, the man hunched over the table in the center made no effort to escape the leaks. A scattered mess of flimsy and data chips was spread before him, but he only rested his elbows on the clutter. His round, bald head sagged into his meaty hands, one blood shot eye peering through his fingers. He was a big man, but he seemed frail as his broad shoulders shuddered with suppressed sobs.

Suddenly, the old-fashioned holovid projector at his elbow beeped insistently. For several moments he only stared at the flashing light indicating an incoming message. Finally, with listlessness born of the complete loss of hope, he reached out a trembling hand and keyed in the code to receive it.

The projection was grainy and flickering, no surprise in this desolate place. But the cloaked figure was unmistakable, even with his face partially shadowed by the over-sized hood. A few months ago the large man would have prostrated himself before the image. Now he only stared at it lifelessly, waiting for the Dark Lord to speak.

"So you no longer pay obeisance to your benefactor, Veruna?" The Lord said.

"Benefactor?" A little energy reanimated him as the word left his mouth with the sharpness of a curse. "Your charity has left me in torment!"

Only half of the Lord's face was clearly visible; the tip of a strong, hawkish nose, and a granite-hard mouth. The deep lines, weathered skin, and loosened jowls placed his age somewhere between fifty and sixty.

"You promised to make me an emperor!" Veruna continued. "Now I find myself in exile."

The smile on the death-white face was almost mild, but it gave Veruna a chill, as if he might never feel warmth again. "It was not the name of Sidious that brought you to this."

"No, it was this…Palpatine," Veruna spat. "This sniveling puppy lapping at the feet of the Queen."

The thin, colorless lips quirked in amusement. Veruna failed to see the joke. He shoved back his chair with a screech and jumped to his feet. "After all I've done, all the efforts I've made to serve you, you leave me to disgrace and then laugh at my misfortune?"

"Palpatine has done you a favor," the Lord said calmly. "I still have work for you."

Veruna shook with rage as his face purpled. "How can you imagine that I would continue to serve you?"

He could not see the Lord's eyes narrow, but there was a feeling as if the air in the office was thickening and pressing down on him. The color faded from his face as the Lord spoke coldly. "Be cautious, Veruna. You may believe you desire release from my service and then find yourself…dissatisfied with the results."

Veruna swallowed thickly.

Then the air cleared again, and the Lord smiled affably. "Besides, my ambitions are set far beyond the control of one little mid-rim planet. There may yet be a place for you in my larger design."

Veruna straightened, feeling a little life coming back to him. His eyes glistened greedily. "But…how?"

"There are certain parties in the Core who are intrigued by your research. Your secluded retreat –" Again the lord's lips curved in amusement. " - Will provide a unique advantage to continuing your work. And you have a sizeable population of test subjects at your disposal."

"The new Queen may complicate things," Veruna remarked darkly.

"You are beyond her reach now," the Lord said, pursing his lips. "The Morsa Loinga is only a river, but it may as well be a permacrete wall."

Theed, Naboo
23 BBY

Her royal highness, Queen Jamillia Dharkar, was a young woman. Still, she often felt that she was not young enough. She stood squarely in the shadow of a fourteen-year-old girl, and she had never quite figured out how to step out of it, short of convincing another nation to invade Theed.

But there were other heroes who preceeded her, such as the one depicted in the statue before her. King Cestus and his horse had stood in the palace throne room for two centuries. The stone face she examined was a handsome one, with a heavy brow, thin aquiline nose, and large piercing eyes. It was also a warrior's face. There was no denying the touch of cruelty around his eyes and mouth. His outstretched hand firmly grasped a spear.

Jamillia cocked her head to the side, studying him closely. A controversial figure, Cestus. Though he had built the palace she stood in and established Theed Academy as one of the Republic's finest institutions of learning, he had not been a friend of the other tribes of Naboo. War plagued his reign. He had been cut down by an assassin in his prime, and though an outcry followed his death, many were relieved when the more moderate King Jafen assumed the throne.

Or so the history books said. Queen Jamillia gave a little sigh and clasped her hands behind her back. History was often abridged by the prejudices and agendas of historians. Every history of every kingdom was only the surface of the actual past. Naboo was no exception.

Suddenly the panel that formed the base of the statue slid away entirely, revealing a passage. Jamillia gasped, her hand flying to her heart as she started back from the figure emerging from the shadows.

The Queen only relaxed when the young woman in front of her pushed back her hood, revealing a pale, delicate countenance, keen brown eyes and a shock of red hair. "Agent Naberrie, I wish you would occasionally use a door."

Sabe simultaneously flinched at the adopted surname and suppressed a little smile. Queen Jamillia had never accepted her habits as Amidala had. Sabe knew the present queen thought she was very peculiar, and sometimes she got the feeling Jamillia didn't like her very much. She bowed. "You asked to see me, your highness?"

"Yes," the queen said, turning and walking towards her throne. She sat, resting her hands on the carved arms.

Sabe came to stand in front of her and waited patiently. The queen seemed in no hurry to come to the point. In fact, she seemed nervous.

"I expect Captain Panaka has shared the Jedi Council's report with you?" The queen asked at length. "Their final report on the assassination attempt on Senator Amidala?"

Sabe straightened. "Of course." She had studied the report for days, guilt overwhelming her as she read again and again of Corde and Verse's deaths, wondering if in her training of them she had missed some lesson that might have changed things. But that had been months ago. The whole episode had been eclipsed by the war.

Queen Jamillia folded her hands in her lap. "And what was your opinion of it?"

"My…opinion?" Sabe repeated in confusion. "It seems that their opinion coincides with what we suspected. The Trade Federation was responsible."

"I am dissatisfied with their conclusions."

Sabe's eyebrows lifted. She took a step closer to the throne. "May I ask why?"

Queen Jamillia pressed her painted lips into a thin line. "I don't understand the motive."

"The Trade Federation's desire for revenge seemed like motive enough to me," Sabe remarked.

The Queen shook her head. "I cannot believe that Count Dooku would play to the whims of Nute Gunray."

Sabe frowned. It was odd that the Separatists would waste their time on revenge against the senator of a small mid-rim world, and a near-pacifist at that. But it was the only answer that made any sense. There was something the Queen was not saying…yet. She could feel it hanging in the air between them. She watched Jamillia expectantly.

The Queen's hands fidgeted in her lap as her brow contracted. "There has been a new development," she said carefully. "It is a matter of Naboo security in my opinion, and as palace liaison to the NIA, I feel you are the most appropriate person to look into it."

"I see," Sabe said. "What kind of development?"

Jamillia said nothing, opening a panel in the arm of the throne and pressing a button. A state-of-the-art holovid projector rose from the floor at Sabe's feet, and Sabe placed the holobead Jamillia gave her into the machine.

"Captain Panaka received this distress call last night," Jamillia explained, and nodded toward the projection.

The holograph was of very poor quality. It took a few minutes to stabilize, but when the image cleared Sabe saw a large man, quite bald, apparently sprawled on a floor. At first she thought she was looking at a corpse, but then he shifted, groaned, and weakly raised his head. Sabe stiffened, her eyes widening in recognition. As he stretched a supplicating hand in their direction, she saw the ghastly burns across his forearm, and another on his shoulder.

"Sidious," he whispered in a gravelly voice.

All at once, a beam of crackling energy appeared out of nowhere and swept over his head. It must have hit his recording device, for as soon as it neared there was a flash, followed by static.

There was no more. When the recording was finished, Sabe could think of nothing to say.

"Given the current political climate, this recording seems of no slight significance to me," Queen Jamillia said.

Sabe nodded wordlessly.

"I want you to go to the Wastelands," Jamillia said. "You may take whatever military force you deem necessary. This may turn out to be a rescue mission…"

"That seems unlikely," Sabe interrupted, but then lowered her head apologetically.

"If so," the Queen continued, giving her a hard look. "You will bring Veruna to Theed for medical attention and questioning. If not, you will recover the body and perform a full-scale investigation."

"Of course," Sabe murmured. "But…if I may ask?"

"I suspect you will ask whether I grant permission or not," the Queen said wryly, lifting an eyebrow.

Sabe smiled a little. "Have the Jedi heard of this?"

Jamillia shifted. "I decided to defer to your council on that issue, given your background."

"I think they ought to be consulted," Sabe said. "As soon as possible."

Sabe held her cloak tight around her as she walked the dark cobblestone avenues of Theed. It was quite late, and there were few locals to share the streets with her. Occasionally she would pass an acquaintance and exchange greetings. The night was a bit chilly, but Sabe couldn't really feel it as she noted the twinkling lights in the residential towers, the silhouettes of families inside. It had taken her a long time to get to a place like this, so she could never make this walk with indifference.

The Queen was insistent that she hasten to the Wastelands in case the former king still lived, but Sabe felt alerting the Jedi Council to the situation was a major priority. Fortunately, the newer aircraft could reach Coruscant in less than a day. She'd spent most of the afternoon doing research, and the rest negotiating transport. It was easy enough to secure passage on a military craft with Captain Panaka's help.

Finally Sabe reached the little boarding house with white roses crawling up its permacrete sides. She put her thumb to the little pad next to the outer door and it slid open with a hiss, emitting a burst of warmth and the smell of cooking food. She passed through halls of apartments, hearing the quiet conversations within. But her own quarters seemed dead and quiet. Sabe smiled knowingly and keyed in her entry code. As soon as the door opened her eyes fell on Eirtae hunched over the kitchen table, her head almost in the bowl of soup she'd apparently been trying to eat.

Sabe chuckled softly. It wasn't the first time she'd found Eirtae asleep at the table. After their days as handmaidens, they'd both attended advanced studies at Theed Academy, and survived the rigors of the NIA Academy together. There, Eirtae's interests turned from aviation to bioengineering and defense. Now she worked fourteen-hour days in a state-sponsored lab. She seemed obsessed with her work, so much so that when she finally got home each night she rarely made it as far as their sleeping quarters before dozing off. Otherwise, Eirtae had become an excellent roommate and companion, and the two had grown close in their prickly way... except for the time Sabe found Brainworm Rot Type A growing in a Petri dish in their refrigerator unit.

Sabe put a hand on her shoulder and shook it a little roughly. "Wake up! You are an inch away from drowning in your soup again!"

Eirtae stirred, an awful grimace contorting her otherwise attractive face. "If it isn't the dulcet tones of my roommate…" she grumbled as she raised her head.

Sabe shook her head and turned away, searching out her traveling sack from a compartment and opening it on one of the chairs.

Eirtae watched her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to Coruscant tomorrow," Sabe replied, mentally checking off what she would need.

"What for?" Eirtae asked. "You hate Coruscant."

"I have work there," Sabe answered evasively. For once she was glad that it was customary to keep cases quiet. She wasn't ready to discuss why she was looking to involve the Jedi.

Eirtae sighed dramatically and let her head fall down on her arm again. "Fine. Be the secret squirrel. But you know I'll get most of the gory details eventually."

Sabe smiled as she began retrieving clothing and other necessities from their sleeping quarters. She'd been well trained in forensic techniques in the NIA academy, but whenever she was flummoxed by a technical question, Eirtae was her first call.

The sleepy blonde was very near to dozing off again. Sabe poked her unsympathetically as she passed, burdened with clothing. "Go to bed. You'll have the temperament of a Sarlaac in the morning."

Eirtae pushed herself to her feet, mumbling something indecipherable as she stumbled off toward the bedroom. "Wake me before you leave," she called just before shutting the door.

Sabe deposited the last load in her bag and zipped it with a little pat on top. Discarding Eirtae's abandoned soup, she settled herself at the table with her datapad. She had downloaded everything in the National Archives that concerned King Veruna. Opening the file, she stared at the grim face that popped up on the screen.

King Veruna had controlled Naboo during her first eight years in Theed, but she barely remembered him. Politics had held little interest for her at the time. She did remember his final public address, a debate with Padme. He'd proposed the creation of a conscription army, diplomatically named the Junior Defense League, to deal with what he called "the Gungan problem." Padme had revealed his pet project for what it really was; an effort to re-militarize Naboo and commit "defense" that was tantamount to genocide.

But the debate was only a footnote in his long and complicated history. Apparently he'd started out as a chemist in Theed Academy, where he had drawn controversy for performing dangerous experiments on live subjects. Soon his interests turned away from science, and he rose quickly through the ranks of Theed politics.

He had served four consecutive terms as king, the longest and most tumultuous reign of any ruler in recent memory. No one seemed to understand how he'd gathered enough support to be elected each time. And it seemed that whenever a voice rose to criticize him, that voice was soon mysteriously silenced.

Around the time he'd been defeated by Padme, Senator Palpatine had produced several whistle-blowers who accused him of terrible crimes. Not only had King Veruna secretly supplied a neighboring planet with weapons, he'd also attempted to reinstitute illegal spice mining on Naboo. As soon as she was settled into the throne, Padme had stopped the shipments of weapons, halted illegal spice mining and confined legal mining activities to Ohma D'un. She'd banished Veruna to the wastelands beyond the Nubian border.

After that, there was little information. Cryptic intelligence reports revealed that Veruna had taken up residence in an abandoned mining facility and that he was making repairs to it. Occasionally, southern farmers saw aircraft flying in that direction or leaving, but overall the former King seemed to live in complete isolation.

Sabe turned off the datapad and rested her chin in her hand. Perhaps she had been hasty in bringing up the Jedi to the queen. She didn't want to beg for help from the Temple, and as Eirtae had observed, she certainly didn't want to go to Coruscant. She imagined standing before the Council again with dread. Flashes of light and a few burns would not make a very convincing case. With his history, there were easily a few thousand people who wanted to see Veruna dead. And the idea that the dark power of a Sith had returned to Naboo was almost too terrible a possibility to consider.

Sighing, she rose from her chair and prepared for bed. Eirtae's weariness must have been catching, for as soon as Sabe's head hit her pillow a drugging lethargy was dragging her eyes closed.

She was standing on the Grasslands. It was a sultry summer night, and the tall grasses swayed in a light breeze. The light of Naboo's three moons shone from the navy sky. In the distance, there was only a hazy glow to mark Theed's skyline.

A sharp percussion began behind her, followed by the slowly building growl of a dozen didgeridoos. Faintly, she heard numerous voices rising to sing the Grand Army's battle song. As always, thick fog obscured the swamp lands, but soon she saw shadows moving within it, and she thought she could see their trailing, fin-like earflaps. She could almost smell the acrid musk of their kaadus.

But when they emerged from the fog, they were not Gungans at all. The earflaps were actually oversized hoods of flowing gray cloaks, and their combined force presence was massive as they pulled a thousand lightsabers from their belts. Blue and green blades buzzed to life into the warm, humid air. They did not appear to notice her. They looked past her, and Sabe could see the whites of the nearest one's eyes as he stared in terror.

She turned slowly as she finally perceived the icy, malignant horror that she'd spent a decade trying to forget, Thick, black clouds rolled over the top of the nearby hill. There was no chance to run or even scream as the darkness enveloped them all, paralyzing her limbs and streaming down her throat like a suffocating oil. As she fought and struggled against it, she had the vague impression of a bone-white, disembodied face wearing a cruel smile.

"Peace is a lie," it whispered.

Sabe sat straight up in bed. For a moment she was still suffocating, tasting black oil. Then she sobbed and coughed, and sweet, clean air filled her lungs. She was still in her quarters, and Eirtae was still snoring soundly in the next bed. Regardless, her bedclothes were soaked beneath her and she could not stop trembling. Eventually it dawned on her that the sound of the drums from her dream was continuing.

Looking around wildly, she realized the insistent tapping was coming from the window. She climbed from bed and tiptoed toward it nervously. When she drew the curtain aside, she sighed in relief.

A caduceus hovered just outside, its silvery body undulating frantically as it beat leathery wings against the transparisteel. Its lidless black eyes glittered, almost as if it knew a secret it wanted to share. When she'd first seen one, Padme had told her that the winged serpents were rumored to be the souls of departed kings. Sabe knew that the legend was probably owing to the caducei's tendency to nest around the palace rather than any mystical origin, but the coincidence made her shiver. She wrapped her arms around herself.

It hadn't been a mere dream, of that she was certain. The foul taste was still on her tongue, and she could detect the faint scent of smoke still clinging to her hair and clothing. She'd only had one other experience as vivid, ten years ago in that same swamp, when Qui-Gon Jinn had used a force vision to calm her as he'd tended to her wound.

She'd almost forgotten that. Pressing her hand to her mouth, she blinked through the dull ache of the old loss. She didn't have time to think of it now.

Whatever was happening in the wastelands, she was no longer foolish enough to even consider handling it alone.

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

Space, Coruscant System

19:00 CT

The large military cruiser ripped through space, the stars mere ribbons of silver out of its windows as it spiraled toward the Core through hyperspace.

Sabe stepped from the turbolift at the rear of the ship and walked into the cockpit. She smiled to herself as she saw the pilot leaning hazardously far back in his chair, his feet on the empty co-pilot's seat beside him. He guided the ship with barely more than one finger. When he finally noticed her watching him he sat up quickly, jerking his feet down.

He had treated her with remarkable deference during the trip. Apparently he thought she was some kind of high-ranking dignitary. Sabe hadn't bothered to correct his assumption.

"How much longer?" Sabe asked, bending to peer through the windows. Some distance away, she saw the gray planet peppered liberally with light.

"Little more than an hour, my Lady," the pilot said stiffly.

"Have you encountered much traffic?"

Pirates had been extremely active lately, taking the opportunity of the war to turn navigation of even this well-traveled route into an adventure.

"No, my Lady. Only a few merchant vessels and pleasure cruisers, all with valid registration."

"Very well," Sabe said. "Alert me when we are about to enter atmosphere."

"Yes, My Lady."

She turned to leave the way she had come, smirking. "At ease, soldier."

Seventy-five minutes later, she watched from the window of the main hold as they finally descended, the ship angling slowly over the five spires of the Jedi Temple. Below their precipices, she saw the lush green of a large courtyard with small figures in brown coming and going. The temple landing pad for visitors was placed in the very front of the massive ziggurat, before the hundred steps leading to the main hall. Two 30-foot statues guarded the steps, their stone faces impassive as the Nubian cruiser landed gently and shut down. As the exit ramp lowered in front of her, Sabe saw a female Jedi waiting for them.

The Jedi had the look of some exotic species of poisonous orchid. From her head grew two massive curved horns, whose bases were hung with dangling tentacles boldly striped with blue and white. Her face was crimson with bone white patches around each brilliant black eye. The ramp came to rest on the composite material of the landing pad, and the Jedi began walking forward slowly, the tentacles moving animatedly as if they had a mind all their own. Her robes swung gracefully around her trim figure, making her seem to float over the pavement. She extended a bright red hand cordially. "Agent Naberrie, I am Shaak Ti."

"I remember you, Master," Sabe said, taking her hand.

As soon as their palms met, one of Master Ti's eyebrows lifted, and she nodded slightly. "Forgive me. It has been many years since we last met."

"Yes," Sabe said. "And I was a bit…shorter at the time."

Master Ti smiled. "Yes." She turned her head slowly toward one of the spires, every movement controlled, flowing, nothing superfluous. "The council is expecting you. They will see you within a half hour."

"I appreciate their haste," Sabe said, clasping her hands together to stop their fidgeting.

"Please, allow me to escort you to a place where you can wait." Master Ti turned and began climbing the hundred steps.

The Jedi Master's grace disguised the speed at which she moved. Sabe was forced to trot awkwardly to keep up. As they entered the temple, Sabe glanced at the monuments that seemed to carefully watch her entrance. Surely this was the reasoning behind the landing pad being built here. It would be difficult for anyone to misbehave beneath the stern gaze of the massive stone figures. Sabe knew she'd been taught their names and histories once, but she had long forgotten them.

Together they proceeded down the main hallway. Sabe noticed the curious glances directed at her by knights and younglings alike. Was it the infrequency of visitors or her force sensitivity that fascinated them? She could certainly sense theirs. It made the Temple itself seem alive, like a massive crouching beast with this hall as a central blood vessel. The sensory overload disoriented her, and when Master Ti halted in front of her, she almost stumbled into her back.

After peering around her guide, Sabe could not entirely suppress her gasp. If the Temple was alive from a certain point of view, they now stood in the chambers of its heart. For a quarter kilometer in front of her, two perfectly straight lines of fountains extended, down the center of a oblong pool. Along the walls were many Jedi immortalized in stone, some in the fierce postures of battle, others in the serene attitudes of meditation. Around the feet of the statues water ran in carefully directed channels through the stone floor to join the waters of the pool. The fountains' synchronized splashing echoed throughout the entire room, and here and there between the channels were round enclosures of earth covered in lush grass and Hylaian Marsh Bamboo. The room itself was like a work of art, using the symbols of the water, the plants, and the statues to show the nature of the Force. Sabe released her breath, and Master Ti looked at her with a small smile. Certainly this place was not on the usual tour for visitors. It was as if Master Ti had brought her here deliberately, as if she felt that this was a sight she ought to see.

Sabe flushed a little, and Master Ti's smile widened. "I must ask you to remain here for a time. I will go and inform the Council of your arrival."

"Of course. Thank you, Master," Sabe said, bowing and watching as Shaak Ti glided away.

When she was gone, Sabe took another look around, and then caught sight of the ceiling. It was covered in an incredibly intricate fresco, apparently of some ancient battle. She studied the paintings of Jedi lightsaber-to-lightsaber with dark, insect-like creatures in black, their yellow eyes showing fiercely from beneath oversized hoods.

"Excuse me," she said, turning to a young, nervous-looking padawan walking by and pointing upward. "The painting? What does it depict?"

The padawan gave only a cursory glance at the fresco, and spoke in a rather bored tone. "The first Sith Wars, my Lady."

"Change is constant. Time is irrelevant. There is only the Force," Obi-Wan Kenobi muttered between his teeth.

The chrono read two after the mid hour, normally something that would not require much of his attention. But now the time piece on the wall of his quarters was telling him with irritating frankness that he was an hour late for the Council's summons, and because the summons were for both him and Anakin, he could do nothing about it until his padawan arrived.

Qui-Gon had taught him at a very young age that in times of stress, it was sometimes helpful to use visual metaphors to connect with the Living Force and quiet the mind. After all, the Force was many things; a tree, a starship, a bird, a raindrop. But at the moment Obi-Wan could visualize nothing as appropriate as a dancing prankster, laughing hysterically at him.

His padawan had fallen into…infatuation. All the signs were glaring; his shortened attention span, his decreased appetite, his constant, grating whistle, his secretive trips into the heart of the city and late returns with flushed cheeks and poor excuses. These brief flings were not encouraged, but they were expected. It was even considered healthy for a padawan to have a short foray into the perils of love and then, through strength of will, turn back to duty and the Code. At least, that was what Yoda had said when Obi-Wan had sought out his council on the matter.

But Anakin's activities were increasingly interfering with his responsibilities, and if his encounters were with the person Obi-Wan suspected, he was much less inclined to be tolerant.

At last he heard the hurried steps in the hall that stopped just outside the door of their quarters. He waited quietly as Anakin stealthily keyed in the entry code and crept inside, probably hoping he was deep in meditation and wouldn't notice his arrival. Anakin should have sensed his alertness, and that alone was enough to tip Obi-Wan into an almost-temper. He flipped on the 'luminator as Anakin turned around. "This is becoming ridiculous."

To his credit, Anakin did not jump. He smirked sheepishly. "I don't know what you mean, Master."

"Don't insult my intelligence, Anakin," Obi-Wan said sternly. "You did receive my message? Over an hour ago?"

Anakin schooled his features into respectful impassivity. "Yes, Master. Forgive me. I was…detained."

Obi-Wan looked him over. His short-cropped hair was sticking up in all directions. There was a high color in his cheeks and a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. His clothing was disheveled.

"Tuck in your shirt," Obi-Wan said coldly. "We must hurry to the Council chambers."

Anakin complied, blushing. Obi-Wan rose from his seat and walked past him out of their quarters.

"Master—" Anakin began as he passed.

"Enough," Obi-Wan interrupted. An appeal to the padawan's sense of duty would be useless at this point. He decided on a different tactic. "To wave your distraction before the Masters' faces in this manner will certainly not hasten your trials."

Obi-Wan felt the tension running over his apprentice then, and his eyes darkened into the resentment that seemed ever-present in them lately. "Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan sighed. A rift had started between them some time before the Battle of Geonosis, and it was growing. It was necessary to bridge it before it became too wide to reach across. "Despite what you may think, Anakin, I do understand your struggles. But you belong here, in the Temple. You have known that since you were a boy."

Anakin heaved a sigh and looked down the corridor, avoiding his eyes. Obi-Wan felt him trying to shield his anger from him. He reached out and gripped Anakin's shoulder firmly. "Do not hide your feelings…release them, padawan. Let them go."

"Yes, Master," Anakin said dully.

Obi-Wan folded his hands within his robe sleeves. "Well, then. Let us go and see what the Council wants."

When they finally entered the chambers, the Masters' combined auras struck Obi-Wan as solidly as ever, and their disapproval was as palpable as the floor beneath his feet. He bowed a bit more deeply than usual. "Masters, we have no appropriate excuse. We can only beg your apologies."

Master Yoda only nodded and rested his chin on his folded hands, but Mace Windu's eyes were like vibroblades. "You have made our guest wait," He said.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reply and glanced at the woman he had only half-noticed as a Force sensitive. His words died in his throat as she turned and he took in her flaming red hair, liquid dark eyes with an ever-present spark of defiance, and a mouth that would have been quite elegant if it had not been so firmly and stubbornly set. It was an objectively lovely face, made more so by its artlessness and the intensity of each expression.

It was also the face of someone who was supposed to be dead.

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

Jedi Temple, Coruscant

A craftsman knows her tools, how they can shape a material and how they can't. A musician knows his instrument; its flaws, what it is made of, and how air movement and temperature can change its tone.

A Jedi knows himself.

During his youth, he had spent three months practicing the simple art of breathing. Later he learned to control his heart rate, the temperature of his skin, his need for sleep or food, the flow of his thoughts.

Knowing this level of self-mastery, Obi-Wan became well aware that for a moment before the council, looking at Sabe, control had slipped from his grasp. He felt as if he had been running for a long while.

Then he felt Anakin's eyes on him. A fine example I am providing, he thought, drawing on the quiet of the room and the power of the masters to bring himself back. He felt equilibrium return, but not before Master Yoda looked pointedly at him with a frown.

"You said in your transmission that you came to discuss a matter of utmost importance, " Mace Windu prompted with the barest edge of impatience in his voice. Master Windu had never been particularly renowned for his hospitality.

"Yes," Sabe said gravely, seeming to visibly steel herself. She raised her chin and the words she spoke were carefully devoid of any doubt or hesitance. "There has been an attack on one of our former kings. I believe the Separatists are directly involved."

There was a beat of silence as the Masters digested her assertion. Obi-Wan glanced around at their faces and tried to gauge their feelings. Since the events of Geonosis, many of the Jedi had been sent to the outer rim to fight the rising rebellion that was creating chaos there. It was generally accepted that the Separatist's base of operations must be in some obscure outer rim system. For someone to claim action in a Core world… it suggested that the war was far more pervasive than anyone had suspected.

"You have evidence of your claim?" Master Windu asked.

"Of course," Sabe continued, producing a holograph bead from her pocket. Master Yoda nodded to Anakin, who tapped a panel in the floor with his foot. A projector rose from the center of the room, and Sabe deposited the bead into it.

Static bloomed out of the recording, finally clearing away to show an elderly man sprawled across a permacrete floor. As they watched the recording, several Masters shifted in their chairs uncomfortably. Others' eyes narrowed skeptically.

"Reverse and freeze the image, " Master Yoda said suddenly, and climbed down from his small chair. Leaning heavily on his cane, he hobbled up to the image and peered closely at it, a low humming coming from him as he strained both his eyes and his feelings toward it. For several moments he was still, long enough that Anakin shifted impatiently, and Obi-Wan shot him a quelling glance.

Finally, Master Yoda turned an eye toward Sabe. "Not confined to lightsabers are burns of this kind."

Sabe's fingers twisted in the skirt of her uniform nervously. "I have not examined the wounds, Master. And the burns coupled with the flashes of light…"

"Blaster fire it could be, or an electrostaff," Yoda continued. "Clear the image is not."

"Yes Master," Sabe said quietly. "But it is not only this transmission."

"More evidence have you?"

"Not exactly," Sabe said. Her eyes turned to the other Masters, and then to the floor. She seemed quite ill-at-ease. "Only my own perceptions."

Mace Windu's eyebrow lifted.

Sabe took a breath and continued. "After I learned of what had unfolded, I had a…a vision," she straightened, her eyes determined.

"Describe this vision," Yoda said.

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes faraway as she remembered. "I was…standing on the grass plains. At first I believed I was back in the invasion, with the Grand Army at my back and the Federation Army before me. But then I saw a hundred Jedi stepping from the fog of the swamplands. And the enemy we faced…"

"Go on," Mace Windu said.

Sabe fidgeted. "Well…it had a presence like a storm cloud, enveloping us, choking us. Its voice spoke in our heads, and I realized I'd heard it before. That was when I realized it was no dream. It was Sith, Masters. The Sith have again touched Naboo. Their cancer is poisoning our world, somehow. I cannot put a finger on it but I know their darkness has returned."

The Jedi Masters looked at one another. But Master Yoda's critical eyes never left her. "How know you the nature of Sith?"

"I saw the Sith apprentice during the Nubian Invasion. I felt his power. I am not mistaken," Sabe replied.

Master Yoda turned away from her and made his way back to his seat, settling himself there. His eyes drifted half closed momentarily, and Obi-Wan felt the slight buzz in the air of the Masters' conferring consciousnesses. There seemed to be some dissension among them, but it would never be made overt before an outsider.

The air cleared, and Yoda opened his eyes. "Leave us, you will. Discuss this among ourselves we must."

Sabe bowed and followed a padawan from the room. When the door had shut and they felt her presence at a sufficient distance, Mace Windu spoke.

"Masters, our resources are already strained. And this request smacks dangerously of local entanglements. I'm not sure it is within our responsibility to respond."

Anakin looked surprised. "Surely, Master, we must follow any lead that might help us discover the Sith." At Obi-Wan's look, he composed himself.

"We have heard numerous anecdotal reports of sightings, young Skywalker," Mace Windu said sternly. "If we chased all of them we would leave the front lines of this war entirely open."

"In addition, there is a danger in again becoming involved with Naboo," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out. "Allegations of favoritism could be made. After all, Naboo is a stable system with a strong democracy in place. Whenever possible they must be left to their own devices."

"But the other sightings were not made by force-sensitives, particularly not force-sensitives who had before encountered Sith," Master Shaak Ti remarked.

Her observation made the atmosphere pensive as the Masters saw the truth of her words.

Finally Yoda looked at Obi-Wan. "Long your acquaintance with this girl is. Know of strong abilities in her, do you?"

"You saw it yourselves, better than I, when she applied as an initiate,” Obi-Wan said.

"Decided, that was, long ago," Yoda replied sternly. "And best we still believe it to be."

Obi-Wan inclined his head. "Yes, Master," he considered his next words carefully and replied at length. "She is highly attuned to the Force for one untrained. But her senses and abilities are…sporadic. Unpredictable even to herself. She lets emotion guide them more than any Jedi would. Still, I believe her description of the vision. I think this crime at least warrants further investigation."

Master Yoda made a "humming" noise, once again conferring with the other council members silently. Then he turned his attention to Anakin and Obi-Wan. Like many times before, Obi-Wan felt his probing consciousness, weighing motivation and imperfection, carefully following the leading thread of the Force to every conclusion, waiting for its prompting for every word that left his mouth. "Jedi Kenobi, rested are you and your padawan after your reprieve from duty?"

"Yes, Master."

"Ready for service do you deem yourselves?"

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin. It had been difficult for the young man to alter his fighting techniques to suit the limitations of his mechanical hand. But the real wounds had been deeper, and considering how his eyes had turned from the Force of late…

Anakin's voice held no falter. "Yes Master. We are at your disposal."

Master Yoda nodded and folded his hands in his lap. "Then attend to this matter you will. To Naboo you must go. Expose the truth of this assault, and then to us you will return to report."

"But caution you will take. Not local law enforcement are the Jedi. If uninvolved the Sith are, to Naboo the matter must be left."

Obi-Wan sent Anakin along to pack their things and make ready for the journey, which had been set on the following afternoon. When he found Sabe, she was at the near end of the hall of a thousand fountains, standing perfectly still, staring upward. She seemed so transfixed by her surroundings that for a moment he was loathe to disturb her.

"I'm beginning to associate our meetings with Hezallah's fire," she said without turning, startling him.

He smiled. Hezallah's fire was a comet in the Chomell sector that completed it's rotation once every decade. "I doubt Hezallah's astonishment at first seeing the comet could much surpass mine at finding you here," he replied.

"Indeed," Sabe turned to face him then, a smile on her face. "You looked so strange that at first I thought you had not recognized me."

"It wasn't that," Obi-Wan said, looking away uncomfortably. "After the attempt on Senator Amidala's life, we saw the Holonews coverage of the incident. It was reported that a decoy had been killed. She did not speak of it after, and I assumed…"

"Oh," Sabe said in surprise.

Obi-Wan felt a muscle in his jaw working as he continued to avoid her eyes. Over the years, he had accumulated a barrage of painful memories, the images never failing to drift through his mind as he closed his eyes in sleep. Qui-Gon Jinn, Siri Tachi, the fallen at Geonosis, the Jedi who had been killed since, and the little handmaiden he'd known once. He'd imagined her broken body curled on a landing platform, forgotten in the haste to get the true Queen to safety. To have a reversal like this…It brought him both joy, but also vulnerability. It fostered a need to somehow keep this one friend close, to shield her even if he could not change the fate of the others.

Yoda's voice echoed in his mind, a fragment of a lesson taught to him years ago. The shadow of greed that is.

"Forgive me, Obi-Wan," Sabe said softly. "Such a thing never occurred to me."

He smiled, letting the forlorn thoughts pass away. The Living Force was what mattered, the here and now. Absently he let his hand close around the lightsaber at his belt, his fingers tracing over the seams where the boy Anakin had painstakingly soldered the casing together. "You must tell me how you managed to pop up again in the last place I expected to see you. Did you remain in the palace after Amidala left office?"

Sabe shrugged. "It is customary for the Queen's handmaidens to be released from service once she has left office, even if she takes another government position. Most of the others moved on to other careers or married. I entered the NIA."

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. “You are in intelligence?”

“I trained in the academy like the other agents, and I worked in the field for a while.” Sabe said. “Currently I act as a liaison with the Queen.”

“Ah. A grey area. You always preferred them.”

"I suppose so," Sabe grinned. "And you? How is it to parent both the Republic and an impetuous padawan?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I feel I must have aged far more than a mere ten years since our last meeting."

Sabe smirked and touched her chin pointedly. "You do appear somewhat changed."

"Oh...yes." Obi-Wan rubbed at his beard somewhat self-consciously. "Light sabers make very poor trimmers."

Sabe laughed.

Anakin had once remarked that true Jedi Mastery must be the propensity to frown often. Anakin did tend to simplify things a bit, but Obi-Wan reflected that overt laughter was not a sound heard often enough within the Temple walls. Several Jedi passing by turned at the sound of Sabe's chuckles and stared curiously at the visitor.

They began walking the hall, down the path alongside the twin lines of fountains. Sabe looked at the rushing water with wide eyes. Obi-Wan tried to remember the first time he had seen this place, shortly after being chosen as Qui-Gon's padawan. It was pleasant to relive that moment vicariously through Sabe's reactions.

"I was sent to tell you that the council has decided to grant your request," Obi-Wan said as her amazement began to wane to a manageable level. "Anakin and I will accompany you back to Naboo tomorrow afternoon."

"That's wonderful!" Sabe said. Then she thought a moment and grinned mischievously. "Though it might be best if we remained beneath the public radar. The two of you are still celebrated in song throughout Naboo, and Liodne Bibble has never forgotten you."

"As you say," Obi-Wan grumbled good-naturedly, his lip curling at her reference to his most ardent admirer at the celebration in Theed. "Are you very familiar with the territory where King Veruna was attacked?"

"I have reviewed the topographic area. Plotting a course there will be easy enough. It is the local politics that concern me," Sabe said.

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan asked.

"To reach the wastelands we would have to cross Ankura Gungan territory. The Ankura are not known for their hospitable nature. I was planning to visit Padme and Representative Binks this evening, hoping to get their advice on the crossing."

Sabe glanced at the chrono hanging from her waist band and her eyes widened. "And actually…I'm late. Excuse me, Obi-Wan, I must hurry!"

Obi-Wan bowed. "No apologies necessary. Until tomorrow, then?"

"Yes," Sabe said. Then she stopped, looking him in the face, her eyes aglow with affection. "And thank you, Obi-Wan. Your assistance brings me great comfort, as it will the Queen."

With that she turned and walked quickly back in the direction of the main hall. Obi-Wan released a breath he had not been aware of holding.

Sabe was halfway to 500 Republica before her heartbeat slowed. It should not have been a shock, seeing him in the Jedi Temple. But it had been all the same. All these years she had wondered about him at intervals; where he was, what he was doing, how he might have changed. A year previously she had watched the holovid news with most of the Galaxy as he and Anakin returned to Coruscant heroes. It had been a shock to see him not as the boyish padawan she remembered, but as a man. But it was nothing compared to the feeling of being near his controlled power again, seeing beneath the light auburn beard the features of her old friend, and feeling his astonishment as he turned his gaze to hers.

If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that she'd fancied him as a girl, as Padme had often teasingly pointed out. Surely she had grown up enough to recognize those soft feelings for what they were; the slow and reluctant awakening of a girl who wasn't quite ready to be a woman. If his presence had an effect on her, it was only natural. She must focus on the task at hand and hope he didn't notice her lingering attraction. Of course, it would be difficult for anything to escape Obi-Wan's notice, but perhaps he would be polite enough to ignore it.

It would have helped if he had grown to be homely, she thought a bit irritably.

When she reached the door to Senator Amidala's lavish quarters, a gleaming protocol droid opened it for her. Sabe felt a brief flash of déjà vu as she studied the droid, but it was forgotten as a sweet female voice rose from the parlor.

"Sabe!"

Before Sabe could return the greeting, Padme had enveloped her in a tight hug, and Sabe returned the embrace with a blush, smiling as she breathed the familiar scent of the former Queen's favorite type of rosewater. "Padme. It has been too long."

"Far too long! How many times have I entreated you to visit me!" Padme said, stepping back and studying her at arms length. "You look wonderful. I see your position agrees with you."

"As yours seems to agree with you," Sabe countered, looking Padme over critically. "Though you look a little tired."

Indeed, there were shadows beneath Padme's bright cinnamon colored eyes, but her complexion were rosy with health, and her once baby-round cheeks had sharpened into the elegant angles celebrated by many to be the most beautiful in the Core. She wore a striking gown of Corellian silk, covered with a filmy web apron studded with waterstones from Dantooine.

"That's my vigilant handmaiden talking," Padme laughed. "Please, sit down. Have some wine."

Sabe followed her to the curved divan but shook her head at the protocol droids' offer of a glass. "No, I musn't. Much as I hate to say it, it is business rather than pleasure that brings me to Coruscant."

"Business? What sort of business brings you away from Naboo?" Padme asked curiously. Then she caught Sabe's wince. "Oh…of course. Forgive me."

"It feels silly, being secretive about matters of your own planet," Sabe said with reddened cheeks. "But I swore an oath of duty…"

"I understand," Padme interrupted quickly. "Think nothing of it."

Still, there was a pregnant pause after her words, as the two young women searched for things to say. As the moment stretched on, Sabe's eyes drifted around the room, coming to rest on an object tucked half-under the other side of the divan. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized it as a belt pouch, the type often worn by active men. There was a design embossed in the top, too covered by the divan to recognize.

Padme followed her gaze, and suddenly her cheeks turned a deep, rosy hue. She quickly stood and retrieved the object. "My goodness. Captain Typho must have dropped this during our conference earlier."

Sabe stared at her. The object wouldn't have seemed suspicious at all if Padme had not responded in such a way. She seemed flustered, even ashamed. But showing the politician that had always lurked within her, Padme deftly changed the subject as she stowed the pouch out of sight within a drawer. "I spoke with Rabe just today."

"Really?" Sabe asked, still trying to decide what to make of her reaction. "How is she?"

"Struggling to sort out the needs of a newborn," Padme replied with a grin. "And very grumpy, if you can believe it."

"I can't," Sabe laughed. "I hadn't heard that she delivered. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy, I think. Can you imagine? As shy as she is, I always thought she would be the last of us to start a family."

"Funny. I thought as cantankerous as Eirtae is, she would be the last to find a patient enough husband," Sabe snickered.

Padme giggled. "How is your roommate?"

"Resolutely trying to kill me with pathogens next to our porridge. She seems to enjoy herself, though."

Padme sat again, smoothing her skirt. "It's good that you've all done so well. I felt guilty at first, leaving you behind."

She looked up at Sabe. "You know, I've never found anyone to replace you. And since Corde and Verse…" Her voice trailed off, her brow contracting in pain. "Well, there is a gap to fill. And there has always been a place for you if you wanted it."

Sabe stared at her shoes, and the patterned rug beneath them. "It is a tempting offer, Padme. But I think I am where I ought to be at the moment. And in these times…"

"I know," Padme said. "The Queen needs you much more than I do, I suppose."

Padme forced a smile, and Sabe looked away, a pang of guilt worming its way through her. Hadn't she sworn an oath to Padme first? And in Corde and Verse she must have failed, otherwise they would not have…

Sabe shook her head, almost hearing Qui-Gon's voice. At this moment she had a duty, and it must trump all thought and regret from the past. She straightened. "Speaking of the Queen…I confess, I've come to you for advice."

Padme leaned forward. "What kind of advice?

Sabe smiled. "Well, in a few day's time my assignment will take me far to the south of Theed, to the wastelands. Encountering the Ankuran tribes while I'm there is unavoidable. I knew you'd had dealings with their leader before, so I thought you might have some wisdom to impart."

Padme sat back, her brow furrowing. "At the Morsa Loinga?"

"Yes."

Padme whistled through her teeth. "That is a tall order for the Queen to give you, Sabe. The Morsa Loinga is-"

"The grey divide," Sabe finished for her. "I am aware of it. It's near the edge of Nubian territory."

"No, it is the edge of Nubian territory," Padme corrected. "A razor's edge. Sabe, no Nubian has crossed that line in fifty years, save one, King—" She looked up then and caught Sabe's expression. "Ah."

Sabe avoided her eyes. "Well, we have a treaty with the Gungans, now. Surely some sort of arrangement can be made for our crossing."

"We have a treaty with the Otollo Gungans of the swamps of Lake Paonga, not with the Ankura," Padme said. "The Ankura remained extremely resistant to any dealings with Theed, even after the invasion. They held their own against the Federation's forces and wanted no help from us."

Sabe shook her head. "I don't understand. I thought the Gungans united centuries ago. Isn't Boss Nass himself an Ankuran?"

"Yes," Padme said with a sigh. "And he was regarded by his people as a traitor. Don't think an alliance with Boss Nass will help you establish rapport with the Southern tribes. Anyone who comes in his name will be immediately viewed as an enemy."

Sabe massaged her forehead. She was not talented in diplomacy, and she had not realized she would have any need of it in the search for King Veruna. "Any ideas?" she asked Padme with a sheepish smile.

Padme shrugged one slender shoulder. "Not really. Diplomacy is usually better off the cuff."

Sabe chuckled. "You are the master at that, not me. It's too bad I can't take you with me."

"Dealing with a tribe of angry Ankurans sounds far better than navigating the currents of the senate," Padme chuckled. Then she sobered. "I do have one little piece of advice, Sabe. Keep an open mind. It's likely you will be greeted with a spear point rather than welcome, but there are legitimate reasons Naboo is ill-favored in Ankuran eyes."

"Such as?" Sabe prompted.

Padme looked uncomfortable. "Every civilization has secrets. And ours are as dark as anyone else's."

Padme would not hear of Sabe paying for a hotel room in the city, insisting she stay in her quarters instead. She treated Sabe to a bountiful meal of Theed delicacies, and the two talked well into the night over old times. As Sabe finally undressed in the guest room the protocol droid had indicated, she was relieved at Padme's hospitality. The room was large, with sparse but elegant furnishings and a few paintings and holopics of Naboo. It was much nicer than anything her travel allowance would have provided.

She puzzled over the meeting. Padme had been alluding to something about Naboo's past that even she wasn't comfortable admitting. That didn't bode well for the reception they would receive once the reached the Southern wastelands, and that would just add time and complication to her mission. She'd sensed that the Council was reluctant to become involved in what they perceived as Naboo's problem. She hoped the Ankura problem wouldn't make them even more reluctant.

But something troubled her, something more personal. It wasn't only the awkwardness that had grown with Padme. That was to be expected. Their lives kept them from remaining in close contact. Though it was unpleasant, it would take time for them to return to where they had been.

No, it was something else; that pouch, Padme's acute embarrassment at her noticing it, and her lie. It would have been an obvious deception, even if Sabe had not had the sense to feel it. It was the first time Padme had ever lied to her.

Then the pieces fell together, startling her enough that her hands froze in the act of unwinding her hair from its bun. She realized that she should have recognized it at once.

Padme was having a love affair.

When Sabe awoke in the morning, Padme's apartment was dark and quiet. She found the protocol droid waiting with breakfast, and a brief holovid Padme had left for her.

Padme's face still looked weary, as if she had not slept well the night before. But she was all smiles as she delivered her message.

"Forgive me for not joining you for breakfast, Sabe. A senate advisory committee meeting was called unexpectedly, and my presence was required at the rotunda early this morning. I suspect I shall not be able to get away to see you off, but know that my thoughts are with you all the time. You must promise to return to Coruscant soon, with no business or diplomatic problems to keep you from enjoying some outings with me."

Padme's face sobered as she continued. "I do wish you the best of luck on your assignment. I know that whatever you are doing, it is for the good of the Queen and of Naboo. That has always been your aim, and it has earned my deepest respect time and again. But please…do be careful. The waters you will be navigating are deeper and more treacherous than the currents of the Morsa Loinga, and you may find in the meantime that Naboo is not what you thought it was. Hold on to our dream, of Naboo being the symbol of freedom throughout the republic. Somehow I hope…no, I believe that your being there will make progress toward accord between the Ankura and the Naboo."

"The Force be with you, sister."

Sabe brushed her eyes in surprise as a few unexpected tears gathered. Sometimes Padme could be a bit hyperbolic. Some people thought her a raving idealist. But she always seemed to see things in a pure, grand way that no one else could manage. Sabe had forgotten how much she had missed that.

Still she wondered what was hidden behind Padme's eyes. They looked as though a veil had been brought down over them, and what was hidden behind it even Sabe couldn't tell.

What is it you aren't saying? Sabe thought, looking tenderly at the holographic image. If you are in love why wasn't I the first to know?

Jedi Temple, Coruscant

The air taxi took a hard spin over the temple, causing Sabe to grip the sides of her seat until her knuckles turned white. She sent the pilot a little glare, but he kept his eyes averted. He'd already been subject to her wrath after narrowly missing a tourists' airbus and breaking several key Coruscanti traffic regulations. She expelled a sharp sigh of relief as the air taxi bumped hard onto the pavement.

She looked up. A sleek Nubian vessel crouched on the Jedi's personal launching area. It was not half as grand as the royal starship, but still its clean lines and metallic sheen were the stuff of young aeronautic enthusiasts' dreams. Certainly it didn't have the look of the Jedi's usual craft. They were practical and as fast as they needed to be, but they were ungainly and lumbering next to this prize. Somehow Sabe suspected that Obi-Wan had not been the one to request it.

Her suspicions were confirmed when a tall, well-built young man in dark brown robes came around the craft, running a hand through his mop of sandy hair as he turned to give the ship one more appreciative glance. At the sound of the taxi's engines shutting down he turned his head. When he caught sight of Sabe, his attractive face split into a wide grin.

"Ah, there she is. The eyes and ears of Theed Palace." A mischievous sparkle lit his eyes, and despite the vast changes in him, it was obvious that the important aspects of Anakin Skywalker's personality had not changed.

Sabe grinned, taking his hand as she climbed down from the taxi. "Funny how I was able to tolerate a little hellion like you."

"Tolerate? You talked me into confessing every one of my pranks."

"And a good thing too, or the palace would still be in chaos."

Anakin laughed and grabbed her in an affectionate embrace, lifting her a few inches off the ground. Sabe squeaked in surprise as she wondered if this was acceptable behavior for a padawan.

Her question was soon answered as a stern voice rose from behind them. "Anakin!"

Anakin immediately returned her to solid ground, and they both turned to see Obi-Wan with his arms folded in a fatherly fashion. His eyes twinkled as they met Sabe's. "I doubt Agent Naberrie fancies being handled as you did our baggage."

"The bags were only a bit scuffed, master," Anakin protested, sending her a wink.

"As am I," Sabe added. "Good morning, Obi-Wan."

"Good morning," he said warmly. "Ready for departure?"

"Quite."

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

Grasslands, Naboo

She stood barefoot on the rolling plains of the former battleground. A soft, sweet-scented breeze fluttered the edge of her cloak and rippled over the waist-high grasses. Familiar constellations twinkled above her and a few fluffy grey clouds slowly skirted the purple-black sky. All was quiet. There was no distant buzz of the Federation army, no roar of starfighters overhead, no sign of the Gungans. Still, her heart fluttered with trepidation, as if the evil from before still touched this place and the blood of the fallen still soaked the ground. Slowly she turned and walked toward the swamp where the ever- present swamp gases hung low and heavy like a veil before the ancient trees. Not quite understanding her purpose or destination, she entered the gloom, her toes squishing in mud as she traveled along the path to where the Nubian resistance had once gathered.

Near the Gungan temple, she spotted an unsteady yellow light through the trees. Her steps slowed as she cautiously extended her senses. Someone was there, human, and she felt his blaze of power in the force. As she finally entered the clearing, she saw his silhouette against the two bonfires burning there. There was no shielding herself from his acute awareness, and he turned and stepped into the light as she approached. Her breath caught as the flickering glow lit his strong profile and the serene grey pools of his eyes.

Qui- Gon…

He smiled mildly, beckoning her closer, but for a moment she couldn't move. She wanted to cry out to him but the words were frozen on her lips. Tiptoeing over the damp ground, she stood before him.

Without a word, he held out his hands, and she took them. She felt the warmth of his palms and the rasp of his callouses. He closed his ancient eyes and his grip tightened. At first the warmth of his hands were comforting, but then it became hot, and then burning. She tried to pull her hands away, but his fingers were viselike. The heat blazed up her arms, accelerating as it hit her heart and was pumped through her entire body. Gasping, she saw his eyes open, shining with white light that seemed to envelop her from without as the fire tore through her from within.

At last he released her and she fell to the ground. I am sorry for what I ask of you, she heard as if from a voice at her ear. She pushed herself up in time to turn and see the black equis galloping toward her, its hooves poised to trample her underfoot, its nostrils heaving smoke and fire and eyes burning with a malignant light...

Sabe's eyes snapped open as a shudder rolled through the ship. Her skin still seemed aglow and tingling, and she chafed her arms to try and rid herself of the sensation as she looked around the small cabin where she had been sitting cross-legged on the floor.

It was the final leg of their journey, and the ship's accommodations had been a credit to Anakin's good taste. There were quarters for herself and the Jedi, a small kitchen, a roomy hold, and a state-of-the-art cockpit that had Anakin crowing with delight when he first sat down at the controls. Since their departure from Coruscant, Obi-Wan and Anakin had been busy with piloting and critiquing one another's flying. Mostly she'd stayed out of their way, and satisfied her need to occupy herself by preparing meals for them. Both had been friendly and appreciative of the courtesy, probably unused to being served, but Obi-Wan had been noticeably reserved. She supposed he was focused on the mission at hand.

The rest of the time she'd spent meditating, but it had brought her no peace of mind. For the first time ever, she dreaded reaching Naboo. She couldn't shake the feeling that something insidious awaited them there.

Shaking away her brooding thoughts, she glanced at her chrono and left her cabin, making for the small kitchen behind the main hold. It was quick work to arrange their modest rations on a plate, and soon she was walking through the hold towards the cockpit.

Obi-Wan and Anakin must have been quite distracted, because their voices continued unabated as she neared.

"It would have been just as efficient to fly around the asteroid field, Anakin," she heard Obi-Wan mutter.

"It saved us half a day, Master. If our mandate is really to rescue this man…" Anakin argued.

"The council knows as well as you or I that King Veruna is in all likelihood dead. And I don't recall them saying that we were to get ourselves or Agent Naberrie killed before we ever reached Naboo."

"There was no real risk," Anakin protested. "And why do you keep calling her that? It's Sabe."

"You would do well to remember that Sabe is an officer of Queen Jamillia's court now, not just your old friend," Obi-Wan rebutted.

Then he added more quietly, as if to himself, "She ought to be treated like any other colleague on one of our missions."

"I do recognize that people change, Master," Anakin's words were laced with bitterness. "Why must you always speak to me as if I were still only a…"

Suddenly Sabe was acutely aware that this was not a conversation she was supposed to be hearing. She coughed quietly into her hand, and both Jedi straightened. She smiled. "Forgive my intrusion. Usually it's impossible to take the two of you by surprise."

"Impossible maybe if you aren't an eavesdropping force-sensitive," Anakin remarked. His voice was teasing, but with an edge to it.

Obi-Wan shot him a glare.

Sabe shifted uneasily and put down the tray. Unsure what to say or how to apologize, she leaned down instead to look out the window. "Where are we?"

"Just beyond the Chommell asteroid field," Obi-Wan replied, still sounding perturbed.

Anakin rolled his eyes upwards, and took fruit and gelatin from the tray Sabe had brought.

"Please sit and eat, Sabe." Obi-Wan said with a forced smile. “You don't have to serve us.”

“Force of habit,” Sabe said, taking the seat beside him.

Obi-Wan leaned forward toward the navigation screen, scrolling through images until he reached one of Naboo.

"I've been thinking about our landing area," he said. "If the Ankura are as territorial as you suggest, I do not think it would be prudent to fly directly into their lands. In all likelihood they have not seen an aircraft in many years. Landing near their village might be seen as an act of aggression."

"I would like to have as little contact with them as possible, but crossing their land is unavoidable," Sabe said.

"Why?" Anakin asked.

"Because their territory borders the near side of the wastelands. The terrain inside of it makes it impossible to land a ship of this size, and the far side would put us fifty kilometers from our destination," Sabe replied.

She touched the screen, zooming in on the southern portion of the planet and pointed out the Ankuran lands. "This is where their village is located, by all credible accounts. And this area is the wastelands, where King Veruna fled after his exile."

"How could he live there for so long without conflict with the tribes?" Anakin asked.

"Perhaps they did not know he was there. The Gungans believe the wastelands are cursed. Probably no Ankuran dared venture there," Sabe said.

"Perhaps if we could find some way of crossing the river, we could venture into their lands on foot. We might not be seen as a threat if we asked permission for the crossing," Obi-Wan asked.

Sabe thought for a moment, her finger trailing down to an area a short distance from the blank space that was the massive river.

"There is a village," She said after a moment. "Just across the river from the Ankurans. It is populated by loyal Nubians, and I have reason to believe we would be welcome there. We could find out what they know about Veruna and the Ankurans, and then we could borrow a vessel for the crossing."

"I don't like it," Anakin said. "It puts us in an extremely vulnerable position."

"And the Ankurans will know it," Sabe said.

Obi-Wan looked thoughtful, and then nodded. "If Queen Amidala's actions during the invasion demonstrated anything, it was that vulnerability is sometimes the key to making alliances."

Jet stream flowed from the silvery tips of the ship's wings as they descended through the atmosphere, and Sabe was reminded of a child's fingers trailing in water. Then the last lacy fragments of cloud parted, revealing the lush green of the southern lands of Naboo. After the monochromatic permacrete and glass of Coruscant, the verdant color was almost painful to Sabe's eyes, and she squinted against the brilliant sunshine. The wide, milky-looking river was immediately obvious just to the west and soon they were directly above it.

Sabe gasped and leaned over Anakin's and Obi-Wan's shoulders for a closer look. "That's it…the Morsa Loinga," she said. "It's…breathtaking."

"It is as large a river as I have ever seen," Obi-Wan agreed.

"That's not a river, that's an ocean," Anakin said. "Look!"

He pointed and far below they saw a huge colo clawfish taking to the air, the coils of its monstrous body like gleaming islands in the current. It disappeared again below the surface.

"I've heard it feeds directly out of the planet's core," Sabe said. "Its water is brackish. Many creatures must spawn here where the water is warm."

"It's an odd color for such a large water body," Anakin said.

"The sediments from the core. Eirtae says the western banks, where the Ankurans live, are more lush than any other place on Naboo. There are trees there that are thousands of years old."

Anakin angled their ship back toward the eastern banks, and soon the vessel circled over what appeared to be a pasture. Sabe could just make out a cluster of round, fleecy-looking livestock scattering away from the ship. Looking closer, she saw that they were kaadu with their mouths opened wide in terrified bleats, followed by children with herding crooks. The village was visible not far away, and as Anakin carefully set down the ship a safe distance from the children, she could already see a crowd of adults hurrying toward their landing area.

The ramp lowered, and Sabe exited, followed closely by Obi-Wan and Anakin. The air was electric with curiosity and fear, and the villagers talked excitedly together as the three approached them. Out of the corner of her eye, Sabe saw the tired and sweaty children herding a number of the kaadu back towards them. She would have to explain their breach of etiquette, and quickly too.

But before she could find the words, a burly farmer with a sunburned face and a thick head of dark hair pushed through the crowd. "What's all this?" he boomed, glaring at the newcomers.

Sabe bowed low. "My apologies for our disruption."

"I've got fifty head of kaadu roaming for a half a mile," he blustered, his face purpling with anger. "Who are you? What business do you have here?"

"I am Agent Sabe Naberrie of the NIA, and this is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan, Anakin Skywalker," Sabe explained quickly. "We have been sent by Queen Jamillia and the Jedi Council on an urgent assignment."

"What kind of assignment?" The man demanded.

"I am afraid I cannot disclose that."

"Cannot disclose the-!" He spluttered. "This is my property you have disrupted! I demand to know what this is all about! How do I even know you are from the NIA?"

Before Sabe could reply, a disbelieving voice rose from the back of the crowd. "Sabe!"

Sabe looked up. A dark-haired woman with a young infant balanced on her hip had followed the man through the crowd. Her face was as weathered and sunburned as his, and her eyes were red-rimmed and dark with the weariness of a hard life, but Sabe slowly recognized the features of her old friend.

"Rabe," she smiled in relief. "I was hoping you would turn up."

Rabe moved forward and threw her free arm around Sabe's neck.

It was fortunate that Sabe's friend had arrived when she did. Obi-Wan noticed the distrustful eyes of the other villagers as Rabe led them through dirt streets toward her home. As they walked, he surveyed their surroundings curiously. The village was an odd mix of old and new. The homes were quite modern; small rounded structures with immaculate white walls that made them look like so many river stones scattered in the grass. Some of the villagers rode on sleek new speeders, others on kaadu as they probably had for hundreds of years. There was a central plaza where people clustered around a communication center, watching the day's dispatches from the holovid news and sending and receiving transmissions. It was certainly rural, but it seemed that the villagers made a comfortable living by raising kaadu.

"Too comfortable," Anakin murmured under his breath, and Obi-Wan realized that he was right. The scanty wages of animal herders could not account for some of the conveniences he saw. The villagers seemed to be living beyond their means.

Rabe's house looked very much like the others except for a few personal touches. Flowering vines blossomed beside the door, and what looked like handmade curtains adorned the round transparisteel windows.

"I apologize for Rori," Rabe said, as she settled them in the parlor, retrieved a kettle and cups, and poured them a strong-smelling tea. "He can have the temperament of a sarlaac when he skips the afternoon meal."

Rabe's husband snorted through his nose from the corner of Rabe's small, tidy parlor, but grabbed her around the waist as she passed and pulled her into his lap. A small giggle escaped Rabe, and Obi-Wan noticed Sabe's incredulous smile.

Escaping her husband's affectionate attentions, Rabe sat down before Sabe. "What brings you to the southern lands?"

Sabe appeared to be carefully choosing her words. "The Queen has come upon some evidence that a crime may have been committed in the wastelands."

Rabe's eyebrows lifted. "The wastelands? But no one lives there. No one but..." She looked up immediately. "Is it Veruna? Has he committed some new evil?"

Obi-Wan spoke then, sidestepping the question. "A disturbing transmission arrived at the palace three nights ago. We have come to investigate it. I wonder…have you noticed anything unusual in the area recently? Unrecognized aircraft coming or going? Strangers passing through your village?"

"No one but you," Rabe said quickly. "Occasionally we see aircraft going toward the wastelands, or returning. But I have not seen any kind of ship in many months." She turned toward Rori for confirmation and he nodded silently.

'I see," Obi-Wan said, looking between the two of them carefully.

He wished for Mace Windu's skill at seeing the thousand points of connection between people and events. There were motives here that he could not immediately spot. But sometimes shatterpoints were too powerful not to be noticed, even by those without Mace Windu's acuity, and as he focused on the unconscious signals of the couple, he slowly turned his head and looked at the picture on the far wall. It was a holopic of a young man with Rori's hard mouth and strong build. Narrowing his eyes, Obi-Wan studied it carefully.

"If you mean to investigate some strange doings in the wastelands, why come here?" Rori asked abruptly. Obi-Wan turned and saw that he had noticed him looking at the picture and was now watching him suspiciously.

"Our destination is on the near side of the wastelands, and our ship is not equipped to land there," Sabe said. " We'll have to cross Ankuran lands to get inside, and I thought perhaps we could borrow a vessel from your people to cross the Morsa Loinga."

Rabe sucked in her breath. "That is not a good plan."

"It will be dicey. But if we entered their territory on foot and approached their leader diplomatically…" Sabe began.

Rori burst into unpleasant laughter, cutting her off, "The Ankuran leader? Duey Opadda is the closest thing to a leader that rabble's got and he's as like to run you through with a spear as listen to a thing you have to say."

"Duey Opadda…" Sabe murmured.

"It's in the Ankuran tongue. It means "two fires"," Rabe explained.

Sabe went very still, but Obi-Wan could not understand what had disturbed her.

"A beastly name for a beastly chieftain," Rori snapped. "Nothing but a bunch of worthless mudwalkers, the lot of them."

Sabe winced. "I imagine they haven't been very agreeable if they have been greeted with slurs like "mudwalker", she said softly.

Rori's eyes flashed. "What would you call a tribe of murderous savages?"

Sabe's anger was evident. "The crown has had a treaty with the Gungans for ten years now, and in Theed we are finally moving away from calling anyone different a savage."

Rori leaned forward and put a meaty finger in her face. "Them Ankurans have been raiding our village for as long as anyone can remember. They steal our food, our animals, and attack our people. Not me nor anyone in this village is going to sacrifice a hard-earned vessel to get torn up across the water."

Sabe seemed to be only just resisting the urge to slap his hand away. "So, in essence you are denying aid to agents of the Crown?”

"I elected that Queen," Rori interrupted. "And I pay my taxes to keep me and mine safe and in one piece." With that he turned on his heel and left the room. The door hissed closed behind him.

Sabe moved to follow him out, but Obi-Wan stopped her with a hand on her arm. "He's right. If he does not wish to help us, we cannot force him."

She collapsed into her chair with a deep sigh. "Rabe, if there is any way you can convince him…"

"Don't ask me to do that," Rabe said quietly. "I would give you the shirt off my back, Sabe. But I can't help you with this."

Biting her lip, Rabe inclined her head toward the picture Obi-Wan had noticed. Sabe followed her gesture and saw it.

"His brother," Rabe explained. "Killed by the Ankurans fourteen years ago."

"Why didn't you stop me?" Sabe groaned to Obi-Wan as they climbed the ramp back into the ship. "You sensed his anger toward the Ankura, didn't you? Still you let me wedge my foot firmly in my mouth."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I doubt we would have gotten aid in any case. And it was not his loss I felt. There is something…more."

Sabe looked away, her forehead creasing as she remembered Rabe's parting words.

"Sabe, I know you think Rori is nothing but an uncivilized bigot ," She'd said. "But the Ankura are not like the Otollo. There is no civility in them, no reason. They do not have great cities or technological advances. They live like animals and they kill like animals."

Sabe found that she could not completely disregard Rabe's words as baseless prejudice. Unconsciously, her fists clenched. How could she begin to understand the transmission the Queen had received if she wasn't able to even see its origin?

"There's nothing for it," She said to Obi-Wan. "I must get to Veruna's dwelling, and it must be today. If there is even the slightest chance that he is alive, his time is running out."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Then there is no option but to fly into Ankuran territory. Any other way will create a long delay."
He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you came prepared for unpleasantness."

Sabe patted the blaster tucked beneath her tunic. "Of course."

"More my style anyway," Anakin remarked, resettling himself in the pilot's seat in the cockpit.

"True," Obi-Wan retorted. "No subtlety at all."

Sabe stifled a smile as she took a chair beside them.

Soon they were airborne once more, the pasture and village falling away below them. The land shortly gave way to the smooth, dove-colored expanse of shimmering water. Sabe looked down again at the shadows and currents in the river as they passed over. Within a few minutes they had reached the far bank, thick with an explosion of growth and trees, some taller than the towers of the palace.

"It will be difficult to land here," Anakin said.

"There is a break in the tree line over there," Obi-Wan said, pointing.

"It is artificially made. I sense that we will soon have a welcoming committee, Master."

Sabe shivered. The nose of the ship dipped down, and in a few seconds they were watching the levels of the forest zip past as they descended through the dense canopy. Sabe peered through the windows, trying to discern details. The forest was layered like a cake. She saw trees growing on the massive branches of other trees, some species of climbing animals near the top and completely different ones in the lower levels. As they neared the ground, less and less light filtered through the tangle of leaves and limbs. Almost like Coruscant, she thought. At last there was a gentle bump as the landing gear extended and the ship eased onto the forest floor.

Anakin shut down the engine. He and Obi-Wan stood, moving toward the exit with Sabe close behind.

"Do you sense them?" Anakin asked Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes," He glanced at Sabe. "Stay behind us."

Sabe bristled at his tone, but did as he said. In front of them the ramp lowered. They all squinted into the dimness, and as soon as Sabe's eyes adjusted, she wondered if Padme didn't have a bit of force sensitivity after all.

Fifty pairs of eyes were staring at them resentfully. But more importantly, fifty spears were leveled at their throats

Chapter 5 Chapter Text

Kohlma, Bogden System

Three days previous

18:35 CT

The assault on Kohlma came from the sky and the ground, making the horizon appear more like wind-swept water than the gritty surface of a dry moon. The air was usually a barrage of skin-shearing silt, and the severe gravitational tides caused no landmark to be dependable save one; the fortress of the Bando Gora cult.

The traveler raised her head just enough to peer at the dark towers of the fortress. Eerie blue light glowed from the domes, the same color as the cultists' evil eyes. Careful to keep her hood around her pale face, the traveler passed beneath a stone archway and crossed the bridge spanning a drop of three hundred feet. Hundreds of cultists crowded the bridge, glowering at her as she passed. They feared no one, these dark force-worshippers with their huge racks of downward sloping horns and skull-like visages, no one but the Dark Lord she represented, whose symbol she quickly revealed to them on a scrap of carbonite. Resentfully they stood aside for her. Moving quickly, she found the hall where the Lord's apprentice stood silently staring out the window at the hellish landscape surrounding his haven.

She said nothing, clasping her hands behind her with her feet splayed in a defensive stance. He had sensed her before she'd even crossed the bridge, probably as soon as she had landed on Kohlma. She lifted the hood from her head, her bald head with its five pairs of tattoos gleaming in the azure light.

He always made her wait like this, as an attempt to emphasize his dominance. Still, whenever she was near him her hands itched to kill him. Count Dooku, the fallen Jedi, apprentice of the only living Sith lord, and her sometime master. Master. She tasted bile at the very thought of it. The Sith apprentice was as arrogant as he was stupid. She should be in his place. But Sidious had intimated to her through word and action that Dooku would one day outlive his usefulness. Then her opportunity might come. For now she would have to serve Dooku's eccentricities, and be as patient as a viper waiting for its prey to wander too close.

He turned on his heel, a cold smile on his patrician face as he looked her over. "I see you have recovered nicely from your adventure on Yavin IV."

Asajj Ventress trembled in hate, biting through her lip until the copper taste of blood laced across her tongue. It had taken four long months for her spine to be knitted back together after Anakin Skywalker had knocked her from a temple on Yavin IV. The dishonor had tormented her far more than her treatment as the medical droids had sawed through her skin again and again and again to check the progress of her injury. "I am ready for service, my lord," she hissed.

"And service you will give. In the middle rim. A situation has arisen which my Master wishes you and Durge to see to."

"My Lord?" Asajj said in confusion. So far all their operations had been in the outer rim, while Sidious handled more secret and delicate matters in the Core.

Dooku slipped a mini holograph projector from his pocket and activated it. A planet floated above it, rotating slowly. "Naboo. I trust you are familiar with it?"

"Of course, my lord," Asajj said disdainfully. Who in all the galaxy had not heard of Naboo ad nauseum? "And I have been updated on your Master's 'situation' there. I thought it had been taken care of."

"Not entirely," Dooku said. "Somehow the Jedi have become involved."

"Jedi," Asajj repeated with a curl of her lip. Once, when the blood of the masters she had killed was still warm on her hands, the word had brought her pleasure. But after tasting true terror for the first time at the hands of Anakin Skywalker, it sliced through her gut like a cold blade. She swallowed, loathe to show Dooku her weakness. "How could that be so? What could tempt the Jedi to involve themselves in local politics?"

"That is part of your mission. The Master has a number of contacts you may correspond with. You must determine the best course of action to remove the Jedi and neutralize the situation. Quietly."

"I see," Asajj said, a slow smile sliding across her ashen face. She lifted her chin. "It can be an annoyance to have to see to the messes of others—"

Before she could blink, Dooku was behind her, his buzzing, blood-colored lightsaber uncomfortably near to her throat. "Take care, my young apprentice," he hissed through his perfect white teeth. "You are strong and wise in the Force, but you still have a great deal to learn."

Asajj's hands twitched toward her own twin blades, but she controlled herself with effort. "Yes, my master."

The red blade disappeared. "Go then, at once. It will take you several days to reach Naboo. Do not even enter atmosphere until our contacts have fully apprised you of the situation. No one must sense the touch of the Sith on this."

She bowed. "It will be done, my Lord."

Turning on her heel, she showed him her back before he had the chance to dismiss her.

A voice yelled out in old Gunganese as Sabe's heart pounded in her ears. Five or six Gungans ran into the ship, grabbing them by the arms and dragging them roughly outside. Sabe took quick stock of their situation. The Ankura were armed not only with spears, but blasters as well. She did not doubt Obi-Wan and Anakin's ability to put a sizeable dent in the force, but she had little faith in their ability to take care of them all.

The low gravelly voice yelled again, and she found a spear point brushing the tender skin below her right ear. She glanced over to see Obi-Wan and Anakin in the same predicament. Anakin's hand dropped to his hip where his lightsaber hung, and Sabe saw his captors see the movement. Panicked, her voice came out shrill and pleading. "We don't understand! We've come for an audience with your king, Duey Opadda."

Very few of the Ankura seemed to understand her words exactly, but all of them reacted to the name. The spears fell a little, and the crowd parted.

"Wesa gots no king," the low voice that had been giving orders said, and a very tall Ankuran strode through the path the others had made for him. "Wesa Ankura, da free gungan nation. Wesa needs no king."

He had glossy green-black skin and spiky crests over each eye rather than the stalks of the Otollo gungans. His eyes were a blazing orange gold, different from the others whose eyes were mostly blue or grey. Two fires, Sabe thought, unable to tear her own eyes from their smoldering depths. They were alight with an intelligence few Nubians would believe a Gungan could possess, as well as a deep, old rage that made a shiver go through her.

Exchanging a pointed look with Obi-Wan and an even longer one with Anakin, Sabe bowed low before him. "Duey Opadda, I am Sabe Naberrie of the Naboo. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker of the Jedi. We humbly ask permission to cross your lands."

"Whysa for?" Opadda demanded.

"We mean to journey to the wastelands, to the home of a murdered king."

"Veruna." Duey Opadda hissed.

Sabe raised her eyes in surprise. "Yes. You know of him?"

"Hesa bombad," Opadda said darkly. "Yousa say hesa daid? Mesa glad." Out of the corner of her eye, Sabe saw the spears raising again.

Sabe swallowed thickly. "In our country he was also a criminal. But we believe his killer to be a threat to our current Queen and possibly to your people as well."

Opadda seemed unmoved.

"We mean no harm to you or your property, and we will only stay as long as necessary to collect evidence," Sabe said.

"If it would be more comfortable to you, you should escort us during our investigation," Obi-Wan put in from beside her. His voice was calm, as unconcerned as anyone with a blade near to his throat could sound, though every muscle in Anakin's body seemed tense.

The golden eyes stared at each of them in turn for long uncomfortable seconds. Sabe kept herself from squirming and her gaze from dropping from his with sheer force of will.

"Yousa will not enter our village."

"That won't be necessary," Sabe said quickly. "We can make camp across the river if it is agreeable to you."

She could feel Opadda beginning to relent. Remembering Padme's methods with Boss Nass, she again bowed low. "I swear on the eye of your great god Oma-oma that we will follow your conditions to the letter and make haste to leave you in peace."

Opadda lowered his spear, but his eyes were still hard. "Dere has been dose before you who swore on de guds of oursa fadders."

He made a noise in his throat that Sabe interpreted as an exasperated sigh, and shouted to the others in Gunganese. "Come den. To da wastelands. Mesa go wid."

Sabe moved to begin walking, but his spear point found her throat one last time. "Mesa eyes are sharp, and dey will not be leaving you," he said in a low growl.

Asajj gazed down at the infant sleeping in its ornate wooden crib wonderingly. Strange, the frailty of a human. She could circle this youngling's neck with her thumb and forefinger and snap its fragile bones with little more, and yet this was the race her master had chosen to be the foundation of the new age. Bemused, she traced its skull delicately with a nail, and the babe whimpered and squirmed in its sleep.

The gasp behind her was sharp in the still, cool air of the nursery. Asajj turned smiling. "Ah, here you are. You'll forgive my letting myself in. I am not accustumed to your warm climate."

"What do you want?" The dark-haired woman's posture was rigid, but Asajj's keen eyes and attuned senses caught the movement of her hand toward a heavy staff leaning against the wall.

Asajj clucked her tongue. "That would not profit you. And it is needless. I am only here to carry out the business of a mutual friend."

"I know of no friend I could possibly share with the likes of you." The woman spat, but she seemed afraid to move at all now, her eyes fixed on her child.

"Funny," Asajj remarked, glancing around. "A wooden crib. Parasilk wall hangings. This nursery has all the trappings of a royal child, and yet you and your village are nothing more than kaadu herders. "

The woman didn't move but her eyes widened a fraction, and her breathing picked up noticeably. "That business was completed! We did our part and we've said nothing to anyone since!"

"Of course you haven't." Asajj soothed mockingly. "Now you have one final part to play; deferring pesky questions that have arisen. And might I remind you that in so doing, you would be as much serving your own interests as my master's."

Asajj watched the play of thoughts across the woman's features as she processed the idea. Finally she looked Asajj in the eye. "I don't know what you think we can do. There are Jedi involved now, and a royal agent…"

"My masters expectations are not unreasonable," Asajj said lightly. "I will see to the Jedi. You have only to see to the agent."

The woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "What do you mean…'see to her'?"

"Any way you can think of to either divert or silence her." Asajj said coldly. "In either case, you have a sizable population of scape goats right across the river."

The woman's eyes were as wide as saucers, her body beginning to tremble violently as she absorbed Asajj's words. "She's my dearest, my oldest friend! What you're suggesting is…"

Asajj walked back to the crib and lifted the baby from within with exaggerated care, her eyes never leaving the woman's face as she coddled it against her shoulder. The child stirred, coughed, and began to cry at the touch of someone unfamiliar.

"One must pick one's friends carefully in the new age," Asajj said softly. "My master could be your friend. All he asks is a show of good faith. He could assure your family's place in the empire he is building. What could her majesty's agent offer you instead? Protection? Sanctuary against senses that can detect your every thought from across the galaxy?"

Tears ran freely over the woman's cheeks, her face contorting in panic. "Please, put her down. Please don't touch her. We never meant to…"

"What you intended does not matter, dear. You have incurred a debt. One that must be repaid, one way or another." Asajj murmured, her breath disturbing the child's flaxen hair.

"Alright!" The woman cried, distraught, reaching out her hands supplicatingly. "Anything, anything you want! Just please give her to me."

The corner of Asajj's mouth turned up as she placed the child in her mother's arms. "Your dealings with my lord are only as difficult as you make them."

The woman curled her body around her child, sinking to the floor. Even in the dark, the sickly pallor that had overtaken her face was evident. "What would you have us do?" She asked dully.

"Continue offering the Jedi and the agent shelter in your village. I will arrange a diversion for Master Kenobi and his apprentice. I will contact you when the time is right."

Putting a hand under the woman's chin, Asajj lifted her face to look into her eyes. "If you try to betray me, I will know it." She squeezed the woman's chin with just enough pressure to let her feel the strength in her hand. Then she turned and slipped out of the little hut.

Their journey through the woodlands confirmed that their every movement would be scrutinized. Sabe sensed thousands of sentient life forms in the darkness of the foliage, and sometimes she caught glowing, distrustful eyes glaring out at them from the shadows.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced back at Obi-Wan. She was startled to feel a voice in her mind.

If this situation deteriorates, Anakin and I will make a stand, and you will escape back to the ship.

Her eyes flew up to his blue ones, but he was not looking at her. Likely he was calculating how many warriors the two of them would have to face and exactly how much time they would have to buy her.

Do not hesitate. Our mandate includes your protection, and if the time comes that must take precedence.

I thought their mandate was to help me discover Veruna's attacker, Sabe thought. Inhaling deeply, she walked faster to keep up with Duey Opadda's long, loping stride.

After a half hour or so, Sabe saw light filtering through the tree line ahead of them. Opadda led them straight to it and parted the branches with his spear point.

They had reached the edge of a jagged cliff. Beyond, glowing brick red beneath a warm blanket of sunshine was a jaw-dropping panorama of exposed rock, stretching so far and so wide it seemed to encompass the entire horizon. It was harsh and ugly like a bleeding wound in Naboo's crust. Not far from the cliff a cluster of four or five warehouse-style permacrete buildings was arranged. They had been built without any attempt at aesthetics, and even from this distance Sabe could see the effects of many rainy seasons on them.

"Heresa da land your fadders plundered." Opadda said. "Now go. Wesa will be behind."

She inclined her head to him and passed him, picking a narrow path out of the trees and down the face of the cliff. Pebbles and rocks skittered out from the soles of her boots. It was at least thirty feet down, probably more. She tried not to look, raising her eyes instead to watch the Jedi followed by Duey Opadda and four other warriors. But wind tore at her cloak and she had to swallow forcibly against bile in her throat as she felt her knees turning to jelly. Heights had never been her forte. But she could hardly show that weakness to the Ankura. Steeling herself against the nausea bubbling in her stomach, she forced herself to continue.

She could not entirely suppress a little sigh of relief when her boot touched level ground. He didn't smile, but she noticed the twinkle in Obi-Wan's eyes when he heard her. Leaping down the last six feet, he landed lightly on his feet without so much as a grunt with Anakin close behind. Startled by his quick movement, the Ankura hastened down as well and clustered around the two of them. Anakin looked wary, but Obi-Wan gave no sign that their vigilance bothered him in the least.

"There is our destination," Sabe said loudly so that all could hear her words clearly. She pointed to the ramshackle mining facility a hundred yards away. One larger building would have housed equipment, and the smaller ones would have provided dormitories for the workers that kept it going. At random points around the canyon she saw old droids lying on their faces in the silt and mining rigs with their drills broken and besmirched by rust and decay. But she noticed machines and droids nearer to the central facility that appeared to have recent repairs, some with control panels still glowing.

"Someone has been working here," Obi-Wan said.

"This mine has been shut down for decades," Sabe said.

"No," Duey said, and they all turned to him. "Wesa hear noises from des parts often. Wesa see da droids drilling again."

"But…why?" Sabe said. "Veruna would be mad to think he could get this mine anywhere near operational alone. It would take twenty men at least to produce anything of value."

"Perhaps we should proceed into the office," Obi-Wan said, taking the lead toward the larger of the two buildings.

At the door, he hesitated. The barest sign of a grimace passed across his serene features before he looked at her. "Perhaps Anakin and I should go first."

Sabe rolled her eyes. "Do you really think I've never seen a body before, Obi-Wan?"

His disapproval was plain, but he stood aside for her.

Sabe examined the computerized lock on the door and took a device from her pocket, inserting it into the slit intended for a key card. With an electronic beep and the hiss of escaping air, the door slid open.

For a moment she could see nothing, but she quickly pressed her sleeve to her nose at the unmistakable scent of decay. "Anakin, a light if you please?" She said, her words muffled by the fabric.

Anakin took a portable illuminator from his pouch and threw it inside, and suddenly the entire building was lit with its bright glow. The Ankurans gasped, talking in rapid and frightened Gunganese as all their spears came up again.

"No!" Sabe cried. "It is only a light. It will not harm you!"

The Ankura seemed only slightly placated, muttering amongst themselves and glaring at her. Clearly, Duey himself could see how tenuous their agreement was becoming, because he waved a hand at them. "Wesa will be outside," he said.

"Thank goodness for that," Anakin muttered, earning himself a glare from Obi-Wan. But then they were all silent, because as they looked over the now well-lit room, they could see that it was bare.

Entirely bare. Except for a few spots of what might have been blood on the floor, there was no sign of a body. No explanation at all for the strong smell and the overwhelming aura of death that hung over the place like a cloud.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Summary:

T/W : Descriptions of violence and death

Chapter Text

Sabe cursed, hunching her shoulders. Anakin and Obi-Wan looked sideways at her, but she could spare no breath to excuse her language. It felt like all the warmth was being drained from her body, leeched out into the foul-smelling room. She could smell the decay of a body that had recently been here, but it was more than that, like something else lingering in this room had struck a bell deep inside of her, its tone setting all her limbs to trembling.

What she’d told Obi-Wan was true. In the course of her training at the NIA she’d seen many scenes of violence. Sometimes it seemed as if the motivations and wickedness inherent in those acts resonated long after at the crime scenes. She had seen things at least as dark as Sith at work in Naboo; a woman in Theed who had brutally murdered her husband in crazed jealousy, a group of traders who had garroted a rival, a couple who’d beaten their ten-year-old son so badly he'd died within a week.

Yes, you were so good at compartmentalizing all of that. Just piles of meat with information for you to collect with your cold, unfeeling eyes. That’s the Coruscanti street rat in you.

Did those words come from inside or outside? It felt as if all of her armor had been stripped away, leaving nothing but a bare nerve ending collecting pain. Her stomach churned and her vision swam, her ribs aching with the effort to pull in breath. Then Obi-Wan's hand found her elbow, and heat seemed to seep back into her body from the point where his fingers gripped her arm.

"Are you alright, Sabe?" Anakin asked.

"The air seems quite close here." Sabe replied haltingly, not sure how to explain.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said gravely. He leaned toward her and murmured in her ear. "Whatever occurred here, it echoes. Perhaps you should withdraw for a moment. You have no defense against it as Anakin and I do."

Sabe swallowed and shrugged off his hand. "I'm fine." She glared at the empty, stained floor ruefully. "For all the good it will do. We have no body, and little if any grounds for a case.”

"Nonsense," Obi-wan said. "No crime is perfect. Between the three of us we will find something in this room to indicate what happened.”

"I can't kid myself, Obi-Wan," Sabe said. "I know the Council was reluctant to send you here. Without the body all they have to go on are my instincts.”

"We all saw that recording," Obi-Wan said. He moved toward the stains on the floor and knelt, examining them closely. Anakin glanced between the two of them curiously, but said nothing as he turned to look at the old-fashioned holovid recorder lying on its side on the floor

"This must have been where the transmission was recorded," he said. fingering a long scorch mark on its side. "It was completely wiped out by the blow."

"Wait," Sabe said, retrieving a device from her bag and pushing past Anakin to run its laser beam over the sides of the recorder

"What are you doing?" Anakin asked

"Scanning for organic markers." She said, squinting at the metallic surface in concentration. In a moment the handheld scanner beeped loudly. She looked at the scanner screen and frowned. "Nothing."

"It should have at least materials or prints from Veruna," Obi-Wan said. "Someone has tidied up."

Sabe ran her hand over the damage on the recorder. "Could a lightsaber have made that?"

Anakin looked over her shoulder. "Maybe a glancing blow. A direct hit would have burnt the thing in half."

Reaching past her, he pulled a disc from the side of the machine. "This memory disc looks intact, maybe still has some data on it."

"Whole messages?" Sabe asked eagerly.

Anakin shook his head. "Those would have been in the main databank that was destroyed. This disc would only hold sources and destinations of messages, but it would be a start."

"If Veruna had dealings with separatists, he would have contacted them frequently," Sabe murmured thoughtfully.

She straightened and began walking around the room, glancing at the stain on the floor and at the walls, where a few light burns were evident in the dim light. How had the attack commenced? Had Veruna been sitting at the desk? Had he struggled, or been overcome quickly? How had the attacker approached him? Sabe glanced up at the door from her position behind the desk. Then she walked around to look at all the windows. None appeared to have been forced open.

She came to stand behind the desk again. "If Veruna had been sitting here it would have been difficult to surprise him," Sabe said. "Perhaps he was not alarmed…at first. Perhaps it was someone he knew, someone he had dealt with on numerous occasions."

Obi-Wan looked back at the door. "It's a reasonable theory, but we can assume nothing yet."

Sabe sighed. "Of course. It's just that I…" Her toe hit on object on the floor that rattled loudly as it rolled along the permacrete floor. Slipping on a glove from her bag, she bent and retrieved the object.

"Strange," she murmured as she turned it over in her hand.

It was a canister made of a lightweight metal. She removed its lid easily. Empty. "What does this look like to you?" She asked Obi-Wan, passing it to him along with a glove for handling it.

He took it from her and examined it. "An aerosol container of some sort. There is an engraving on the bottom," he replied, and turned it over to show her.

There, embossed in the metal, was an animal the like of which Sabe had never seen with her waking eyes. The cold feeling returned. Beneath it there appeared to be writing, but it was encrypted. "What is this?"

"It appears to be an equis, an animal native to Alderaan. Perhaps a company logo. I haven't the slightest idea what it might have contained, however," Obi-Wan said.

Sabe scanned it for markers. Her face lit up. "Whatever it is, the attacker must have missed it. There are some oils and prints still on it."

"It may be nothing of consequence, but I have an odd feeling about it." Obi-Wan said.

That was good enough for Sabe. She slipped the canister in her bag.

The climate control of the warehouse had evidently gone out, because their work quickly became hot and unpleasant. Also, there was the faint but definite smell of death lingering in the air of the office. Sabe wrinkled her nose as she rifled through papers in the desk drawer, trying not to recall just how many times and in how many different situations she had detected that same scent. With Obi-Wan and Anakin's help she was able to chart the room with the scorch marks noted. She took samples of the blood on the floor and collected what papers appeared to have items of interest in them. Finally, she scanned whatever surfaces seemed most likely for markers and recorded images of the room and various objects within it. By the time she had completed her initial survey, the sun was throwing long, orange beams across the stained floor.

"Hey!" A deep voice hollered from outside.

Sabe stood and acknowledged Duey Opadda, who shortly appeared in the doorway.

"Yousa no stay da night here. Yousa mus' go back now."

"But our work is not completed yet," Sabe protested.

Duey glared at her.

Sabe nodded reluctantly. "Very well. You have been more than fair. I can only ask that you will allow us to return tomorrow to survey the other buildings and the surrounding grounds."

"Wesa no tour guides," Duey said scornfully.

Sabe stifled a growl. "Yes, of course. I understand. But if we are to discover Veruna's attacker we must complete our work."

Duey snorted. "One day only," he said. "After dat, yousa clear out."

"Fine." Sabe said through her teeth, and walked past Duey into the late afternoon sun.

It was dusk by the time Anakin carefully piloted the airship out of the clearing, and nearly dark by the time they set down in the kaadu field at the edge of Rabe's village. Sabe picked out campfires in the town square, with the dark shapes of villagers milling around them. As they disembarked, Rabe came to meet them with her baby in her arms and Rory close beside her. She expelled a sigh of relief as she looked them over.

"I am glad to see you all back in one piece," She said to Sabe, shifting her crowing infant to her other arm. "How on earth did you get past the Ankura without a skirmish?"

Sabe exchanged an amused look with Obi-Wan. "You would be amazed at how skilled the Jedi are at diplomacy." She briefly related their negotiations with Duey Opadda.

"Well, I suppose you must have some supper after your wanderings," Rory said gruffly.

The three of them exchanged surprised looks as they followed Rory toward the meeting area. In the circle of land trampled flat by many such gatherings, the constellation of yellow fires flickered with children racing around them and sometimes leaping right over them, to the irritation of the adults. Many spits of kaadu meat were being turned over the roaring fires, and many pots of stew were bubbling, sending fragrant clouds of steam into the air. The villagers they passed on their way to Rory and Rabe's fire looked up only momentarily at their approach, and then shrugged and turned back to the meals they were preparing. In a clear space, a group of teenagers plucked at ornate stringed instruments, and soon began a lively Nubian folk song. It was not long before children twirled around them in thoughtless gaiety.

"They seem to have accepted our presence easily enough," Anakin murmured to Sabe. She nodded.

As soon as they sat by Rory and Rabe's fire, Rabe presented them with bowls. "Eat," she demanded, grinning. "I suspect even your discriminating palates will find this tasty."

They soon found that she was right. Though it was kaadu meat, like everything else in the village, it was laced with just the right note of spice, and Obi-Wan decided that Rabe had brought the palace's cooking methods to the village. He was surprised when the stew was followed by spiced corellian pears coated in syrup, and thought Rabe's hand in the kitchen might rival the queen's own chef.

"You are as skilled in the kitchen as you are in the healing room," Sabe teased, elbowing her friend lightly.

"Just because you never mastered cooking does not mean it is a hidden art," Rabe retorted good-naturedly.

Anakin and Obi-Wan looked up, amused. Rabe winked at them. "If Padme's plan had not worked during the invasion, a dose of Sabe's cooking might have driven the Neimoidians off as effectively."

"Very funny," Sabe sniffed.

Soon the curious children of the village had spotted Obi-Wan and Anakin, and it was not long before they were gathered, exclaiming over having Jedi in their village. "You were the one who landed that flying machine in the pasture," a dark-haired boy exclaimed, pointing at Anakin. "You must be a great pilot!"

"Tell that to my master," Anakin muttered. Obi-Wan snorted.

"I want to be a pilot someday," the boy said, sticking his chest out. "I'm going to fly for the Republic and take out all the separatists."

"I hope by then the war will be long over," Obi-Wan said with a sad smile. The boy's face fell, and the master ruffled his hair. "But I am sure the Republic will always need fine pilots."

"You can't even pilot a kaadu, Raquel!" Another boy said scornfully. "I saw you on Maksu last week, thrown like a flea!"

"Sometimes even Jedi cannot prevent being unseated by an irate beast," Obi-Wan said genially.

"Are you a very strong Jedi, Master Kenobi?" A little tow-headed girl asked shyly.

"Well, I…"

Anakin leapt to his feet and hoisted the giggling girl onto his shoulders. "Youngling, you are looking at the finest of the Jedi! Not only did he single-handedly defeat a Sith apprentice in his youth, he is the only Jedi in history to have done so in lavender unmentionables!"

"P-padawan!" Obi-Wan choked unbecomingly on a bit of meat. He caught Sabe's twinkling eyes as she slapped him firmly on the back. Gathering the last remnants of his dignity, he gave Anakin a stern look. "I think it is high time you took some rest, Anakin. We have quite a bit of ground to cover tomorrow."

"Very well, Master," Anakin said, still chuckling as he lowered the girl back to the ground. He bowed theatrically to the children, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I shall take my leave then. Goodnight to you all."

Sabe rose, brushing crumbs from her cloak and coughing lightly to hide her mirth. "I think I shall retire as well." She followed Anakin to the guesthouse Rabe had prepared for them.

Their main entertainment gone, the children scattered and soon were driven inside by tired parents. Gradually the fires in the gathering place winked out, and Rabe herself rose with her baby in her arms and walked toward her home. Only Obi-Wan and Rory were left by their dying fire.

Obi-Wan decided to break the awkward silence that had fallen. "We are grateful to you for your hospitality."

"Weren't no choice of mine," Rory grumbled, taking a swig from a bottle that smelled suspiciously of a homemade whiskey. The corner of his mouth turned up. "That ornery wife of mine insisted."

"She seems a fine woman," Obi-Wan said. "I did not realize it at first, but I met her during the invasion."

"She talks a lot about those days," Rory said. "About the palace and the queen and the other girls. She misses it, invasion or no invasion."

He indicated the village with a sweep of his bottle. "A lot of this was her doing, you know. We was simple folk when she came to us, dead set in our ways. She said it weren't healthy living like we did. That's the healer in her, you know."

Obi-Wan nodded.

"She told us all about the fine things they had in the bigger towns, helped us puzzle out a way to make this place better. Fancy new clinic, communications center. She helped us find work to pay for it all, too."

His interest piqued, Obi-Wan leaned closer. "Work?"

Rory looked at him warily, and then down into the bottle he held. "Fine head for figures that woman's got," he added quickly. "Always finds the best price for our beasts at auction. Couldn't do a thing with it, myself. Selling was my brother's job."

"I see," Obi-Wan said neutrally. He stood. Whatever thoughts Rory wished to keep private would remain so now. "Well, I shall join the others. Until tomorrow, Rory."

Rory grunted, draining the last of his liquor.

The guesthouse was large enough for their three pallets, with a convection heater beneath the floor. It was quite luxurious compared to Obi-Wan and Anakin's usual accommodations, but Obi-Wan couldn't help wondering what Sabe's reaction would be. He was surprised to find her already enfolded within her blanket when he entered.

There was a snort from the other corner, and Obi-Wan saw his padawan turn over. He sensed the immersion of the young man's mind into dreams. Many times he had encouraged Anakin to use recuperative meditation rather than sleep on missions to keep at least part of his senses in the waking world. Yet here he was again, slumbering so deeply a droid could have walked over him without disturbing him in the slightest. Ruefully, Obi-Wan prodded his side with the toe of his boot.

A sudden and sharp crack of thunder punctuated his movement, and it was Sabe rather than Anakin who reacted, sitting up on her pallet with a sharp gasp and tossing her blanket aside. Her eyes were glassy, and for a moment she looked right through him as if she didn't see him. "Storms," she rambled hazily. "Deep, black storms."

"Sabe?" He said gently, kneeling at her side.

Her eyes cleared, and she controlled her breathing with obvious effort. Beads of sweat stood out on her brow despite her unnatural pallor. She trembled, wrapping her arms around herself. "Nothing. It's nothing. Only a dream."

Obi-Wan wondered whether to press her, but decided against it. She had never liked too much interference. He turned away, but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"No," she corrected herself with a troubled expression. "Not a dream. A vision."

"Like before?" He asked.

She nodded.

Thoughtfully he plucked at his beard. Then he raised his hand toward her face. "If you'll permit me. " She nodded a bit more stiffly, her posture rigid as he placed his fingertips gently on her temple.

He sought out the Force, and with its pull guiding his senses, he was able to pluck out the thoughts that had disturbed her, drawing them from her consciousness like impurities from a stream. He pieced together the flashing images into a scene of battle, with the villagers on one side and the vast army of the Ankura on the other. Between them, a black equis with livid eyes and steaming breath galloped hard, a harbringer of evil. It seemed to bear vast storm clouds on its shoulders shot through with hot, red lightning.

But when he sought more, she resisted, and when he took his hand away her breathing had become rapid again. Cocking his head, he regarded her curiously. "Why do you always shield in that way?"

She leaned away from him. "I prefer not to be too closely examined."

"Why?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line and rested her chin on her knees, staring sullenly into the shadows. "Sometimes, when the darkness comes, it does not repel me. Sometimes I feel as if it strikes a chord within, as if I am formed from the same element. I don't understand myself, Obi-Wan. I want to do good, at least consciously I do. But something deeper craves power."

Obi-Wan was silent for a long while. It was a familiar conflict. Young padawans stepped into the shadows to discover their innermost selves. His own trial had taken place in the power plant in Theed, where he had fought the creature that had taken his Master's life. But even that had only taken place after years of instruction, and still he had almost succumbed. He chose his words carefully. "Sometimes we look too long into the unfathomable and become lost. Not because we are wicked or barbaric, but because we are finite."

Sabe rubbed at her eyes with her hands. "Why does it feel like a test? Why do I feel as if I'm on the edge of some precipice, about to fall?"

"I would not let that happen," Obi-Wan said with conviction.

"Jedi face their trials alone," Sabe said softly.

"You are not a Jedi, Sabe."

"I know that of course," She said sharply. Then her voice dropped. "I was found deficient, remember?"

Obi-Wan leaned forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Not deficient. Being outside of the temple means…Sabe, it means that you do not have to face your trials alone. Nor should you."

Sometimes he forgot that she was not much older than Anakin. And unlike him, she had been forced into the space between two worlds; one that understood her abilities but denied her the instruction to handle them, and another that valued her skills but ultimately saw her as a freak. Not to mention that she had never been the sort to seek out help unforced, which made him realize how heavily her visions had weighed on her mind. For once she seemed to accept his support, and after a moment her cold fingers found his.

"You rely so heavily on the Force, but it is not something to be used with abandon," he said, taking her hand and chafing warmth into it between his larger ones. "You have other gifts which do not carry the same risk."

"It is part of me," Sabe whispered. "It always has been. How can a living creature ignore the product of its senses? Even when the light burns your eyes you must look."

Obi-Wan shook his head, looking down at her hand. It looked pale and small against the calloused skin of his palm, but it had hurled a knife with deadly accuracy in the deserts of Tatooine and had gunned down enemies of Queen Amidala during the battle in Theed. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He got to his feet and moved back to his pallet. "We will search out this threat together. Tomorrow. For now you must sleep."

She made a frustrated noise, but he heard her lie down again.

Suddenly Anakin sat straight up, his eyes blank and staring. "Gundark ginger snaps!" Then he collapsed, lapsing into as deep a sleep as before.

Obi-Wan started at his exclamation. "No subtlety at all," he grumbled and closed his eyes to meditate. He heard Sabe's soft chuckle.

The thunder had subsided to a distant rumble with the coming of the rain, which he heard streaming from the eaves of their guest house. He attempted to focus his attention on the sound of the element so like the force itself; liquid and changeable but with currents so strong it could shape canyons and valleys out of plains. Still, as he drifted away on his thoughts, he could not entirely block out the rustle of Sabe tossing and turning amidst her linens.

Asajj looked over the village from her place on a small hill. It was utterly still and peaceful in the darkness, the last of the villagers' fires put out by the rain several hours ago. Among the white noise of the villagers' dreams, she could sense the two force signatures that she recognized before all others; the one who had brought her so close to annihilation, and his master. A cold worm of fear uncurled in her belly, and her hands clenched at her sides until her nails bit into her palms.

It changes nothing, she told herself. I am only to misdirect them, not to battle them openly.

She was distracted by her dark thoughts by the vibration of her comlink against her hip. Absently she unclipped it from her belt and brought it to her lips. "Speak."

"Mistress Ventress, we are making our final approach," a rough, gravelly voice replied against the unsteady noise of the uplink.

"Very good. Begin your operation at once," Asajj said. "Surprise is of the utmost importance. Leave a survivor or two to beg assistance from the throne."

"It will be done, my lady," the voice rasped.

"Durge," Asajj added.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Do not allow your arrogance to cloud your judgement. Our duty is only to manipulate them to our ends," She warned.

"They will be dealt with," Durge replied in a dark tone.

Chapter 7 Chapter Text

Eirtae's face on the comvid was sleepy as usual, and she gave a wide yawn before she spoke. "Hi," she said.

"Okay," Sabe sighed. "So I need your help."

Eirtae grinned. "I thought you'd never ask. They have me analyzing the gene sequences of common naboovian bread mold. It's dull as tombs around here."

Eirtae's enthusiasm was infectious, and Sabe felt her face cracking into a smile. "Well, some of it is pretty standard. I need the DNA matches for some organic material from a crime scene, and a few prints as well. But there is something else. Do you have good access to the Royal Databanks?"

"Of course." Eirtae replied.

"I'm sending you an image of a logo or symbol of some kind, along with some encryption," Sabe said. "See if you can find anything on them."

"Hmm, a long list of favors. You have kitchen duty when you get back."

Sabe muttered to herself good-naturedly as she connected the data to the comvid and sent it through.

"Got it," Eirtae said after a moment. "This may take a few days. There are some systems down."

"What happened?" Sabe asked.

"Dunno," Eirtae yawned again. "Some servers housed on Ohma D'un crashed. Maybe a few cosmic rays fried them. They seem to be in protective suspension."

Sabe decided to pretend she knew what Eirtae was talking about. "I have never understood why they had major servers on a moon in the first place."

Eirtae shrugged. "They didn't want to put all their eggs in one basket. Or in one gravity field. I suppose the most brilliant minds in Naboo just can't measure up to your pragmatism."

Sabe rolled her eyes. "That's what I always miss most, Eirtae. Your utter lack of guile."

Eirtae's voice took on a sly note. "Indeed. How is Obi-Wan?"

Sabe's mouth dropped open. "How did you-?"

"Padme told me," Eirtae said gaily. "She sent a holovid last night. Just don't lose your focus, okay Sabe?"

The comvid clicked off before Sabe could retort. And then, something else occurred to her.

How had Padme known?

They had returned to the wastelands, guided by an increasingly reluctant party of well-armed Ankurans. Things were progressing slowly, and pressure was building. Sabe was sure she could not talk Duey Opadda into another day of investigation even with the aid of Obi-Wan's force persuasion. Though they had begun searching the peripheral buildings of the mining facility they were not half done, and from her communications with Queen Jamillia that morning, Sabe could tell the Queen was impatient for her to bring her investigation to a neat close.

Walking back inside the office where she and Anakin had been pouring over the rest of King Veruna's files and records, Sabe stifled a smirk as she heard Anakin give his tenth or eleventh exasperated sigh. He rolled his eyes heavenward.

"Old palace security procedures, genealogies of every Theed royal family back a half dozen centuries, legislative procedures, palace kitchen inventories," He let a whole stack of flimsy flutter from his hand to the floor. "This is junk, Sabe."

Sabe turned back to the files she had been rifling through before her call. "This is what crime investigation is really like, Anakin. Following the paper trail."

"What are you hoping to find?" Anakin asked.

Sabe grimaced at an old menu from one of Veruna's famous Independence Day galas. "A couple of signed death threats with current contact information would be helpful."

"Hummph." Anakin said derisively, fashioning an intricate flimsy starfighter out of one of his sheets and lobbing it at her. "Why do you think Veruna kept all of this?"

"I don't know. Fond memories?" Sabe caught his creation and glanced at it. Then she unfolded the sheet to read it. "Odd."

"What?"

"This sheet that you were abusing. It's a chemical analysis," Sabe said, squinting at the sequence of formulas.

"Of what?" Anakin asked.

"Chemistry is not one of my strengths. But it looks like a spice derivative."

"Isn't spice refining illegal here?" Anakin asked.

"There are some products still made on Ohma D'un. Preservatives and condiments and the like," Sabe shrugged and tucked the paper into her bag.

Obi-Wan's shadow fell across the floor. Sabe looked up and noticed his frown. "What is it?" she asked.

"A old dormitory about fifty feet behind this building. Its contents are…unusual," Obi-Wan said, scratching thoughtfully at his beard.

Anakin and Sabe got to their feet to follow him.

Sabe looked around the dormitory in confusion. It was entirely dark, the only illumination provided by what little sunlight could make it through the door. But in the dimness she made out one wall entirely dominated by electronics, all dead and quiet now. The other was lined with heavy carbonite tables covered with tubes, beakers, and analyzing droids, along with some other equipment Sabe could not immediately identify. "It looks like a laboratory," she said.

"Its power supply has been severed, and most of the equipment has been damaged or destroyed by a heat source." Obi-Wan said.

"The same weapon that caused the damage in the office?" Sabe asked.

"Apparently."

"But…" Sabe walked over to an analyzing droid and ran her fingers over its darkened electronic eye. "What was he doing in here? None of this looks original to this building."

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said. "Considering his history I have a bad feeling about it."

Sabe bent and picked up a familiar-looking canister from the floor. She looked inside, but it was clean. She sniffed, but there was no appreciable odor. On the container's bottom were the same markings as the container from the office.

Suddenly an urgent cry reached them from outside. They all whirled around, and Obi-Wan and Anakin's hands dropped immediately to their lightsabers. "That is Duey Opadda," Obi-Wan said. He looked at Anakin. "Do you sense anything?"

"Nothing but his fear," Anakin said.

Duey had decided to send his comrades back into the forest and stand guard nearby himself in case "desa try to sneak offen," as he put it. His voice rose again in old Gunganese, insistent. No, panicked, Sabe thought. She followed Obi-Wan and Anakin as they raced outside.

They found him at the very edge of the Wastelands, his face contorted as he clutched a tiny Gungan child to his chest. Sabe knew very little of Gungan physiology and even less of Gungan young, but it was easy to see that the little one was in trouble. Her dark green skin was waxy and pale, a dull film over her brilliant blue eyes, and the skin sank between her ribs with each agonized breath.

"Mesa yougen'," Duey explained wildly. "She drank a' dem canisters."

Sabe reached for the youngling immediately, but Duey pushed her away. "Don techen!"

Suddenly Obi-Wan's hand shot out, raising the tunic the child wore. Immediately Duey reached into his belt and pulled a deadly looking shiv, pressing it to Obi-Wan's throat. A thin line of blood appeared at the blade's edge.

"Obi-Wan!" Sabe gasped as Anakin's light saber blazed to life alongside Duey's neck.

"Be still, padawan," Obi-Wan said in a steely voice. Blood ran freely down into the collar of his robes, but he took no note of it. He looked into Duey's eyes intently. "I do not mean to harm her. I have seen this sickness before."

Slowly Duey took his knife away. "Yousa will help?"

"I will try," Obi-Wan said.

Duey assented with a quick jerk of his head and held the child out to Obi-Wan. Anakin's eyes on him were hard, but he put away his lightsaber as Obi-Wan bent over, pushing the child's clothing aside. "It is as I thought."

"What is it?" Sabe asked.

Anakin leaned over to look, and after a moment, pointed out the livid purple splotches on the lighter skin of the child's abdomen. "Dioxis poisoning. Master, do we still have the auto-injectors aboard?"

"Yes. Go and get them. Quickly, Anakin." Obi-Wan raised his head to Duey. "We have medicine. If we put it into her skin, it may help."

Duey grimaced with rage and distrust, but he seemed to understand that he had no other options. He nodded again, his thick amphibious hands clenched in fists at his sides.

It seemed an age until Anakin returned with the vials. Obi-Wan wasted no time in taking one and stabbing it forcefully into the child's thigh, injecting its contents. Sabe saw Duey's golden eyes slam shut as he restrained himself from killing the outsider who was shoving needles into his child. Her heart twisted in her chest for him.

Almost immediately, the painful-looking retractions of the Gungan girl's chest muscles stopped. Her breathing slowed and deepened, and gradually her color began to improve. But she did not move.

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed as he took another vial and injected it into the other leg. "She should have regained consciousness with the first," he said, half to himself.

Once the second dose had had ample time to circulate, her eyelids fluttered, and then opened. The child twisted in Obi-Wan's arms until she caught sight of her father standing behind him. She seemed to recognize him, stretching out one arm toward him. But as quickly as she had revived, her eyes slid shut again. Obi-Wan took one of her earflaps, feeling at the base where the pulse was most palpable.

"Well?" Duey demanded.

Obi-Wan frowned. After a moment he relaxed, but only slightly. "She is improved. But she will need more care. Is your village nearby?"

Duey glared at him. Sabe could sense his conflict. He still did not trust them, and he had no desire to make the exact location of his village known to them, but she could feel his concern for his youngling winning out. He gathered the girl child in his arms and jumped to his feet. "Dis way."

"Wait," Sabe said, something occurring to her. She saw an unbroken canister lying on the ground nearby. "Is that the canister she had?"

Duey nodded and turned away, waving for them to follow. Sabe pulled on gloves and gingerly picked up the canister, clearly identical to the ones she had already seen. Dipping a small probe from her bag into the substance inside, she inserted the probe into her comlink and with a few keystrokes, directed it to Eirtae in Theed.

Between Duey's long, loping stride, his intimate knowledge of the rainforest, and his sense of urgency, it seemed even the Jedi had trouble keeping up with him as he led them back toward the river. Sabe stopped trying to keep track of all the loops and turns they made, and fearful for his child or not, perhaps that was what Duey intended. Sabe's throat tightened as she realized that Duey had given them no reason to trust him either. She glanced up at Obi-Wan, noticing the blood on the collar of his robes from the cut that still oozed a bit. If Obi-Wan's treatments did not work, who was to say he would not find some reason to blame them for the accident? He might resort to drowning his despair by bringing the force of his whole tribe down on them. And they did not even know how many Ankura that might be. They were lost in the woods with no dependable communications other than her comvid, a sick youngling, and only a potential enemy as a guide.

Finally they stepped out onto the banks of the river where the foliage grew thinner, no higher than their knees. There in the sand where the pale waters lapped, a strange machine sat. It had a cockpit much like some starfighters that Sabe had seen, but the top was open, and from the back of it extended five or six long fin-like appendages like the arms of sea creatures Sabe had seen pictures of in books.

"Bongo," Obi-Wan murmured, a strange look on his face.

"What?" Sabe asked.

He shook his head and did not hesitate at all in climbing into the open cockpit behind where Duey was carefully arranging the Ankuran child in one of the seats.

As soon as they were all settled inside, Duey flicked a switch. A low and loud rumble emanated from the rear of the bongo, and the empty space above their heads was filled with a kind of force field that spurted and cracked with bluish energy. Sabe reached out her fingers to touch it, but Duey swatted them down again irritably. "Make dem numb," he explained shortly, and putting both hands to the steering mechanism, he jerked it toward him, causing the ship to lurch backwards into the river.

Sabe gasped loudly as the waters closed over the ship and they were surrounded by aquatic gloom. She stared through the hydrostatic field in shock as Duey expertly maneuvered the bongo down to the riverbed where the current was not quite as strong. The river was deeper than she had realized, and between the high mineral content of the water and the depth, little light reached the bottom. Here and there beneath massive shelves of rock, she saw inky dark crevices through which schools of fish spurted as if they were being generated there. "They must lead to the core," she murmured, and then started back as a huge colo claw fish swam across her field of vision, scooping up dozens of the fish with one snap of its toothy mouth.

Obi-Wan again checked the pulse of the youngling, looking pensive. Duey's eyes followed his every movement. "Shesa better?"

"She is stable," Obi-Wan replied noncommittally, leaning back and plucking at his beard.

There was no idle chatter as the bongo hurtled along the riverbed through forests of plant life probably as high as trees. Sabe tried not to think about the exact amount of pressure on their ship as she attempted to estimate the distance they were traveling. Looking to her left she caught Anakin's eye. His mouth was tense, and he pointedly fingered his light saber while looking at Duey. Sabe shook her head slowly and turned her face determinedly toward the front.

Finally, Sabe noticed the nose of the bongo easing upwards. The dark greys and blues of the river waters outside of the hydrostatic field lightened, and the sizes of the water creatures grew smaller and smaller. Then, all at once they broke the surface, the sunshine painful after the dimness of the river.

The hydrostatic field disappeared, and Sabe felt a fresh breeze on her face. Letting out a quick breath of relief, she blinked against the brightness, and then her jaw dropped.

The bongo was bobbing gently in the current made by a vast waterfall, formed by the waters of the river flowing over a great rift in the land. It was wider and almost as tall as the Verdugo Plunge in Theed. It would have been imposing enough by itself, but as Sabe's eyes adjusted she began to pick out the structures in the midst of it. It looked as if bunches of soup bubbles framed in gracefully curving frames had come to rest there. The waters flowed over and around the countless domes and towers as they would have flowed over river stones. The structures shimmered, not just from the sunlight but from some inward energy not unlike the hydrostatic shield in the bongo. This was a great city, built by technology no one could have expected from the Ankura.

But instead of piloting the bongo toward the city, Duey turned it almost perpendicular to it, and Sabe saw a primitive village of mud huts on the beach. Many Ankura wandered between the smaller structures, and a row of bongos lined the water's edge.

"What?' Sabe said, utterly confused, and glanced back at the waterfall city. Then she realized…it felt nothing like a normal city of many living creatures. It had the air of a ruin; lifeless, very old, and sad.

The bongo bumped up onto the rocky beach. Duey sprang from it and walked around to pick up the child as a party of Ankura came to meet them talking excitedly in Gunganese. Duey directed some words at them and gestured at Sabe, Obi-Wan, and Anakin. Then he waved at them to follow again.

From one of the huts, another Ankura rushed out, nearly screaming in Gunganese. Sabe realized from her tied-back ears and willowy build that she was a female. Running up to Duey, she fought to reach the child in Duey's arms before he handed the girl off to Obi-Wan in desperation and caught her shoulders, hushing her quietly. It appeared he was explaining to her what had occurred in the wastelands. Sabe saw his hands come together and curve, as if to sketch a canister in the air, and then she saw the female Gungun's eyes go flat and cold. But she remained quiet, and did not interfere as he led them toward the hut she'd left.

"Mysa woman, Ganya," he explained, and ducked beneath the skin that formed the door.

The interior was every bit as primitive as the outside, with a packed dirt floor, two dusty mattresses side by side against the far wall, and an empty, blackened fire pit with a hole in the roof for the smoke. There were skins of forest animals tacked to the walls giving off a pungent odor that nearly made Sabe's throat close. Duey pointed at one of the mattresses, and Obi-Wan deposited the child on it, then looked up at Duey who had his arms crossed over his chest.

"I must be left with her," Obi-Wan said.

Duey growled low in his throat, but after a moment herded the rest of them outside.

No one spoke to Sabe and Anakin as they stood waiting and Duey paced nearby. Ganya leaned heavily against the outside wall of her hut and then slid down it slowly until she rested on her haunches with slumped shoulders. Other Ankurans milled around, their eyes wide and anxious, or angry and suspicious as they stared at Sabe and Anakin. She observed the wide variety of weapons on their belts. Looking back at the river, she again tried to guess at their location. There had been no evidence of a waterfall in Rabe's village. The part of the river near it had been almost sluggish. They must be at least three or four miles upstream or downstream, it was impossible to tell which. Duey had made sure to keep them in the dark on their way here.

Turning her attention to the hut, she felt Obi-Wan's deep state of meditation. Then she noticed the spike in energy beside her and looked at her younger companion. She addressed Anakin in a language she had only recently picked up and was sure he knew – Huttese. Where are we?

He looked at her in surprise and then answered in the same tongue. I keep noticing Ankurans unloading what appears to be stolen goods from Rabe's village from those odd ships, and they have been coming from downstream. He jerked his head toward the riverbank.

Sabe followed his glance and saw other Ankuran children carrying boxes from the lined up bongos with a few adults directing their efforts. We are standing in the midst of hundreds of river pirates, and we are entirely at the mercy of their hospitality, she muttered in Huttese.

Duey stopped pacing on her right and glared at her. "Yousa speak plain!" He hissed.

"My apologies," Sabe said quickly. "What do you call your village?"

Something odd came into his eyes, and the blazing fire there seemed to die low like heated coals. "Mesa village got no name."

That seemed very strange. Sabe had never encountered a permanent civilization with no name at all, even if it was just a word that represented 'home' in whatever tongue was prevalent there. Something about that seemed important, and Sabe was just about to ask why they'd never given their village a name when Obi-Wan pushed aside the skin before the door.

Duey stopped pacing and looked at Obi-Wan almost pleadingly.

"They child has been badly poisoned," Obi-Wan said. "It may take days of care to rid her system of the toxin."

"Yousa will make her better?" Duey asked.

"I will do what I can. But it is best if we are nearby to administer the antidote whenever she worsens."

Though none of them spoke it aloud, it appeared that most of the villagers understood Basic. They all appeared to be listening carefully. Duey looked at Ganya, whose head was in her hands. "Iffen yousa can heal da gurl, yousa can stay near da village," Duey said, adding forcefully. "Not in da village. Near. Yousa can do your work. But mesa chile come first."

A storm of angry Gunganese came from all sides as the villagers protested Duey's decision. He barked back at them angrily, and they quieted. Boss or not, it appeared he was the most respected member of the village. He sighed. "Dis is da ting we all been runnin' from."

Sabe did not have much time to figure out what he meant. He was soon leading them toward the forest that bordered the village on all sides, to find a place for them to camp.

"Stay still!" Sabe snapped before she remembered she was ordering around a general in the Republican Army. "Sorry. But you must allow me to clean this cut."

"It is hardly worth bothering about," Obi-Wan mumbled.

Sabe leaned a little closer as she swabbed the laceration on his neck with bacta, keeping a firm hold on his chin. "It is shallow. But the Force only knows what kind of organisms are floating around in this environment."

Duey had finally left them alone after stomping around a bit and warning them to stay put. Obi-Wan had given him instructions for his child to be watched carefully and kept warm. He'd even given him a vial of the antidote in case she took a sudden turn for the worse. Though the stern Gungan hadn't allowed it to show, Sabe sensed that Obi-Wan's aid had been a big step in gaining his trust.

"That was a pretty close call," Anakin said, carefully arranging a few sticks of kindling on the tiny first flames he'd coaxed from a pile of dry grass. Sabe had been disappointed to discover that lightsabers were useless in starting campfires. Despite all the technology they carried around, the two knights had nothing more than a flint to make a fire. If she was ever trusted enough to appear before the Jedi again, Sabe decided to suggest to the Council that they give their knights something better.

"Not really," Obi-Wan answered. "Despite his demeanor I do not think Opadda would have harmed me."

Sabe snorted and cut a strip of bacta to size, placing it carefully over his wound. "He was less than a millimeter from your corotid artery."

"Sabe's right," Anakin said. "These people seem pretty brutal to me, and they didn't think much of Veruna. Who is to say they didn't kill him?"

"The burns in those buildings would suggest otherwise," Sabe said thoughtfully. "Besides, Veruna lived in the wastelands, a place they would have little reason or desire to go to. I don't think they would have attacked the King outside of their territory."

"They have obviously made off with Naboo belongings. Why would they not steal from Veruna as well, maybe killing him when they were discovered?" Anakin asked.

"All they had in those bongos were food stuffs," Sabe said. "And as primitive as that village is…I don't know, it just feels as if they are defensive rather than aggressive."

"I agree," Obi-Wan said. "That laboratory makes me think that something larger was involved in Veruna's murder."

Sabe smoothed another strip of bacta over his wound and peered at him. That line between his brows that always appeared when he was troubled was particularly noticeable tonight. "You said the child had dioxis poisoning. I have heard of it, but I know very little," she said.

Obi-Wan leaned away from her ministrations. It was a slight movement, but noticeable along with his closed-off expression. Sabe bit her lip and rose to move away from him.

" It is most often used as a gas," Obi-Wan explained. "A poisonous gas for chemical warfare. The last time I personally encountered it, it was being used by Separatist agents on Queyta."

Sabe leaned forward. "Then there is a connection to the Separatists."

"Perhaps, but this is not Dioxis.'

Sabe stared at him. "But the antidote worked."

"Actually, it did not," Obi-Wan said. "If it had been Dioxis, all of the child's symptoms would have disappeared immediately. It seems to be similar in composition, but it is something far stronger and more deadly. Honestly, I do not know if the child will live or die."

Sabe swallowed hard as she picked up a piece of wood and placed it on the fire, now burning merrily. She tried not to think of the pain on Duey and his partner's faces, or the hot anger burning in his eyes. "At least you are here to recognize it. If I had been alone she would have died immediately."

Obi-Wan stared into the flames and said nothing.

"Well," Anakin said. "I suppose we will have plenty to do tomorrow. I am going to turn in." He laid down on his sleeping mat and rolled himself in his blanket without any other preamble.

Sabe sat watching Obi-Wan for a few minutes longer. He had lapsed into a brooding mood, and he was completely closed to her right now. Had she said or done something to offend him? All at once her thoughts were interrupted by a loud snore from Anakin's direction.

"Oh, for the sleep of the clear conscience," Obi-Wan said quietly.

Sabe smiled gently, but examined him all the more closely. "Why should your conscience be troubled? After all you have done for Naboo, for the Republic."

He raised his eyes to her as if with great difficulty. "I am no stranger to the darkness that haunts your dreams, Sabe. It comes to me on nights when the faces of the dead dance through my mind."

Sabe searched for words. "Qui-Gon?" She asked softly.

"Among others," Obi-Wan said. He raised a vial of the antidote in his palm, turning it over absently in his fingers. "This antidote, for example, was bought at the price of three lives at least. Friends. Good Jedi who knew what they were sacrificing. I alone survived to remember what they did in Queyta." He returned the vial to the pouch in his belt. Noticing her expression, he smiled reassuringly, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," Sabe said.

"It means little now," Obi-Wan he said softly. "Their lives for an antidote that no longer works, with an enemy who is still strong. The dead must be released into the Force. Individual acts are nothing to the whole of what is."

"That isn't true," Sabe said with vehemence. On the night of Qui-Gon's funeral, that particular Jedi sentiment had rankled.

Obi-Wan stiffened. "That is the Jedi way."

"Then it is wrong," Sabe retorted. "Obi-Wan—"

The words froze in her mouth as she was cut off by an overwhelming and nauseating dizziness. The hairs upended on the back of her neck, and her stomach rolled as she shook with sudden chills. It seemed to her that she could hear the echo of hoofbeats far away, coming closer. Staggering to her feet, she looked around wildly. "What is that?!"

"I sense it as well," Obi-Wan said, also jumping to his feet.

"Force," Sabe exclaimed through clenched teeth as the feeling coalesced into an awful sense of irrevocable loss. "Is it the girl?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said. He grabbed her hand, and they ducked into the black forest, hurrying toward the village.

Branches slapped across Sabe's face and sticky spider webs caught in her hair. The terrible feeling grew stronger, drowning out everything but the desperate need to know what calamity had occurred. She let go of Obi-Wan's hand and threw her arm in front of her eyes to shield her face from the lashing plants as she began to run. Soon she'd left him behind, and she heard him calling for her to wait, but her senses began to block out sight and sound as she stumbled through the dark.

Through the trees she saw the light of several fires signifying the Ankuran village. But when she reached it, there was no one there. Even Duey's hut was empty, the mattress where they had laid the Gungan child bare. There was still food by the fire pit, the fire still burning as if the occupants had gotten up and walked off all at once. Gazing around in terror, she remembered folk tales of people disappearing entirely, from small villages like this one, from starships. Then she suddenly sensed the Gungans nearby, and she looked up toward the great waterfall in time to see a group of them disappearing into the nearest dome.

Caution slowed her steps, and she followed their path as silently as possible, creeping up to the door of the dome.

The dome was nearly as large as the throne room in Theed, with a floor of stone tiles arranged into beautiful floral and aquatic designs. But it was bare, and looking at it she realized there was something wrong with the very structure. The light drizzle that had just begun was hissing and then falling straight through the shimmering blue shield, and the energy that formed the shield appeared to be unstable, crackling and sparking much more than it should have.

The huge room was encircled by the villagers carrying torches, and Sabe soon picked out Duey on the far side of the room, the child in his arms, and Ganya at his side. All of the villagers were singing, their voices joined in a wailing dirge that reached up into the highest point of the room and echoed off its solid framework.

And then it seemed as if a veil had been lifted from before her eyes, and she saw that in the middle of the circle were bodies; dozens and dozens of dead and dying Ankurans, some so decomposed they were hardly recognizable, others with frothy sputum bubbling from open, gasping mouths and blood rolling like tears from their large eyes as they struggled and convulsed. The anguish and pain all around her became so thick Sabe could barely breathe herself. She heard Duey's voice rise above the others, the tone of the Gunganese speaking so clearly of his despair that the language barrier was useless in hiding it. But why were they just singing? Why weren't they doing anything?! Why was no one aiding those that still lived, if only just?!

Gasping for breath, Sabe digged into her pocket frantically and brought out the one vial of antidote Obi-Wan had given her. She ran into the circle, even as she realized there was not enough medicine in their entire ship for all of the victims, and that most of them were far beyond treatment anyway. She fell on her knees before one of the smaller prone forms, an adolescent Gungan whose eyes rolled unseeing as he choked. With a convulsion that beat his limbs rhythmically against the ornate stone floor, he became completely still. Sabe reached her hands out to him, not understanding when they passed through him like water.

Then there were arms around her, restraining her from the young Gungan, and she fought, beating her fists against them.

Obi-Wan. His face was sorrowful as he held her still struggling arms tight to her sides. "Peace, Sabe. Be still. They are only shadows."

Dimly, she heard Duey's enraged cry. "Yousa cannot bes here! Dis a sacred place!

Sabe shook her head, going limp in Obi-Wan's hold. She reached up a shaking hand to brush away the tears dripping down her chin.

And then Obi-Wan's, answering, "She is confused. The Gods are showing her what happened here."

He held Sabe against his chest, murmuring quietly to her as she stared at the now empty floor. All of the bodies were gone. There were no pained gasps for air, there was no stink of rotting flesh in the air. It was only her, Obi-Wan, and the remaining Ankura in an empty room lit by flickering torches.

"It isn't real, Sabe. It is just a memory. A memory of a thing that never should have happened."

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Theed, Naboo

31 BBY

It was long past 3 a.m. but the late hour had little effect on the activity level in the library that served as the nerve center for the Princess of Theed's election campaign. The latest poll numbers had just come in over the holovid, and they were encouraging. In a tight circle around the machine, members of the princess's staff shouted and laugh, energized by the success of their recent appearances in the east. Despite the king's assertion that Princess Amidala could not possibly get the attention of the educated voter, there was no denying the polls' significance; the princess was making a small but important dent in the elite constituency of the east.

In the back of the library, outside of the excited crowd, the young girl gave a little sigh that she hoped her staff did not notice. She twisted her torso once to crack out the aches dancing along her spine.

Padme felt even the slightest shows of weakness were enough to lessen their belief in her. After all, she was not the daughter of royalty, and she certainly didn't command even half the experience of some in this room. She was nothing more than a mountain girl with a gift for oratory and an optimistic worldview. And somehow – she still did not know how- she had managed to ignite the hopes of the people in this room. She'd gathered a sturdy little grassroots following none had expected, and her manager said that she could capitalize on the weariness of the Naboo public with King Veruna's bombastic, iron-fisted leadership.

This was not where she thought she would be at thirteen. She stifled a second more exhausted sigh and tried to think instead of the multitude of faces at her last rally outside Theed. As they'd watched her, the afternoon light anointed their upturned faces like the soft touch of the Gods. She truly loved those people. They formed the great spirit of Naboo, and they were worth never sleeping again if she could somehow lessen their adversity. She bent again over the latest survey reports and successfully dispelled the thought that sometimes she wanted to be like any other thirteen-year-old; skipping rope, giggling about boys, and watching soap operas on the holovid.

There was a tentative knock on the office door immediately behind her. Padme raised her head. "Come in, please."

The door slid aside, and Padme smiled to see Governor Bibble, a friend who had campaigned tirelessly for her to his own electorate. Among all the wizened nobility of Theed she had never met a milder, more down-to-earth politician. The sight of his aging but gentle face made the weariness on her heart lift. But her smile faded when she saw the dark heaviness in his usually merry eyes.

"Princess Amidala, I wonder if I could have a private word?" He said.

"Of course, Governor," Padme stood and made her way to the front of the room. "Gentleman, ladies."

All the staff members quieted at the delicate voice as if by magic, and Padme continued. "I appreciate your arduous work this evening. I cannot ask you to stay any longer. Please, go home, be with your families, and rest. There will be ample time to plan our next move tomorrow morning."

With one final whoop from a few of the younger men from the university, her staff eagerly gathered their belongings and began filing out. Padme reached out and turned off the holovid, more than happy to temporarily still the constant flow of information. The silence after the final staff member shut the library door was sudden and a little disconcerting. Padme laughed as it was broken by a pile of flimsy sliding from one of the tables to the floor.

"I hope the school administrators never come in after one of our good days," she remarked, picking up the flimsy and replacing it on the tabletop. "They may revisit their decision to let us use this place."

"I was pleased to hear the news myself," Bibble said. "It appears that against all odds, your message of hope has the power to energize Naboo."

"It is one day," Padme said quietly. "One day with many other long days ahead of it before we achieve anything."

Bibble nodded. "Of course," Again, his face seemed to sag with weariness and some unspoken trouble. His lips worked as if he were trying to force some particularly bad taste from his mouth. Padme cocked her head, trying to understand his grim attitude. "Princess…." He began, but was cut off by the sound of the door opening, and Representative Palpatine entering the room.

Padme barely looked at Representative Palpatine as her pulse picked up in alarm. She had never seen Govenor Bibble so disturbed. "Please, what is it? Already you have me unnerved."

The Governor looked at the representative warily.

"It's alright, Governor. Representative Palpatine is one of my most trusted advisors. Whatever you wish to tell me, it will remain between the three of us for as long as discretion is required," Padme urged.

"Forgive me, Princess. It is only that my nature protests the repulsiveness of the materials I am about to show you. I can only excuse subjecting your innocence to such a shock by stating that only you can provide the justice this evidence demands."

Speechless, Padme watched as he raised a portfolio to his lap and extracted several sheets of flimsy from within, fanning them across her desk.

They were grainy and devoid of color, as if taken from one of the most backward and antiquated holographs. The poor quality of the pictures only lent more horror to their subjects. Here was a male Gungan, stripped of clothing, his chest cavity laid open for autopsy so that the heart, lungs, and other anatomy were clearly visible. Here was a female, and beside her, carefully laid on a towel for examination, the fetus she had carried within her dismembered abdomen. And beside her a child, its face contorted in a paroxysm of final agony.

Padme recoiled. "Governor, please explain this," She said faintly.

"They are test subjects, my lady. This is the fruit of the trading agreement King Veruna has made with Chalacta and several other mid-rim planets," The Governor said sorrowfully.

"What trading agreement?"

"To provide highly refined weapon-grade spice for the foreseeable future," Bibble replied.

Padme shook her head. "No. The trading agreement with Chalacta and the others is well known to the Council. We have provided them with condiments and foodstuffs derived from spice for many years. Weapon grade spice is strictly forbidden both by Republic and Naboovian law, and-"

"Wrong, princess," The Governor interrupted gravely. "Illegal it may be, but mere condiments did not do this to innocent Gungans." He looked at her pityingly and stacked the photographs together again, putting them back in his portfolio.

"Veruna has been mining the substance in the south, beyond the Morsa Loinga. None of the Naboo would suspect it there, because no Naboovian has ventured there in quite some time. To remove it, he has repeatedly provoked skirmishes with the natives, creating fictitious reasons to evict them from their lands. This is the 'Gungan problem' he so often speaks of; not violent, greedy savages who desire to conquer our lands, but passive, traditional natives who desire only to keep their own. "

"This cannot be so," Padme said softly.

"Your own instincts tell you that it is," Bibble pressed gently.

Palpatine shook his head. "This is grave indeed, Padme. At such a time…" His eyes were aflame with apparent indignation.

Padme rose from her chair abruptly. Her eyes met Palpatine's briefly as she turned from her desk and moved to the window. Outside, she could see the Vertugo Falls like a scene from a dream, atop it; the palace, every window ablaze with light, and below; the great city of Theed with its columned temples, Academy, vast libraries, and beautiful twisting cobblestone streets. She saw it as she had first seen it as a small child; a city that seemed to reach past the clouds forever, until one day it must just float up to the Gods. "Peaceful as we are, have we really all been complicit in this?" she murmured.

"Princess?" Governor Bibble asked, his voice thick with concern.

"How did you come upon this?" She asked finally.

"A member of the King's cabinet. He begs to remain anonymous, lest his family and loved ones be threatened."

"What do you plan to do with it?"

Bibble cleared his throat and looked at his feet. "Princess, I was hoping you would tell me."

Padme began pacing, her thoughts splintering in a dozen directions. She glanced up at Palpatine, who gave one quick shake of his head. Swallowing hard, she faced Bibble. "I…will give you every aid that I can, but there is really little I can do."

Governor Bibble made no attempt to disguise his astonishment. "I don't understand," He walked over to stand beside her. "Princess, you can present the evidence to the council. You can move for a vote of no confidence, and have the king out of office in an hour."

Padme shook her head violently. "No, I cannot!" She sank down into her desk chair wearily. "You overestimate my influence in the Council. They believe me to be nothing more than an upstart juvenile. The polls we have looked at today clearly show the doubts of Theed at my abilities in office. My hope for victory is in the outlying districts, among the common folk who are tired of the day to day realities of Veruna's policies. Those same policies have kept Theed's nobility fat and complacent. Such a move would further alienate them."

Bibble's eyes still stared into hers, but his shoulders slumped visibly.

Padme continued. "If I…go shoulder to shoulder with you in this, Governor Bibble, it would threaten both the integrity of the information and my own campaign."

Bibble's gaze shifted from Padme to Palpatine. "I see," he said after a moment. "It would appear as a shameless ploy to further yourself in the election."

A spike of guilt lanced its way through Padme's heart. It has nothing to do with my moral code, she told herself, her hands clenching at her sides. People would hesitate to believe such a report from an opposing candidate. The truth had to be given to them by an objective source. And…she did want to win. Not for her own ends, but because a man like Veruna should not be in power. Even she could do a better job. She knew the thoughts and sorrows and loves of the people. Obviously Veruna thought only of the royal coffers. She must win! The alternative was inconceivable.

"Well, then I find myself at a loss," Bibble said, with a helpless shrug. "I need some sponsor to give credence to my claims. Someone the Council knows and trusts."

"You do not," Palpatine suddenly put in. "This crime will be tried in the court of public opinion."

Governor Bibble peered up at him. "What do you mean?"

"You must present your findings to the people first, and then the Council," Palpatine said, turning from the two of them and pacing across the library. His hands worked spasmodically together behind his back as he thought. "For then they will have no chance to cover their shame. I cannot emphasize enough to you how deeply Veruna's influence has penetrated our representatives and courts, but I think you know it yourself. The people themselves must see what effect his tendencies have had. We will support you in what ways we can, but you must do this alone. Any public interference from us will only taint the report."

Palpatine withdrew a card from his robe. "Contact this man. He is with the holographic news agencies. He will be instrumental in seeing that your voice is heard."

Bibble took the card, but looked uneasily at Padme. "Princess, does this not take the actual form that you feared would be perceived by the public? It does this way become a kind of…election strategy."

"Surely you do not think that is my object?" Padme asked in a low voice, but she found she could not meet his eyes. What was it Palpatine always told her?

"My dear, if you are to win, everything must become strategy."

And she had to win. The people needed her to win.

Governor Bibble tucked the card into his robes. "Of course not," he said quietly, and bowed. "I am obliged to you, Princess."

"No. It is I who am indebted to you, Governor. As is Naboo," Padme said softly.

He said nothing more, only bowed and went out by the same door he came in.

She and Palpatine stood in silence in the empty library. Then Palpatine observed the paleness of her face, and she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Padme, are you alright?"

Padme shook her head, her hands trembling. "I feel that I've just been given a test of character and failed it."

She continued to feel the same way through a sleepless night and the next morning, as the holovids came alive with the news of King Veruna's corruption.

Duey was staring into the flames, his eyes reflecting the color and quality of the fire with a supernatural perfection. Sabe sat across from him, clutching Obi-Wan's cloak about her shivering, clammy frame as the only defense against the chill and her own thoughts.

It had been a tense walk back to the village, and Sabe understood that most of the Ankura were of the opinion that she had desecrated a sacred ritual. But Duey had held them firmly in check. Whether or not he called himself their boss, it was clear that he had their allegiance as firmly as any kind of monarch.

She had asked the others to leave them alone, and she had joined Duey by the campfire on the banks of the river where the water mumbled softly against the pebbly shore. She felt as though only Duey could tell her this story, and that they were connected in a way the others could not understand. Somehow she sensed he could feel that too. She knew he resented her knowing about the past, but he could not hurt her anymore.

"My fadder was da great boss of da land," he began, his voice rough in the stillness. He did not look at her. "An he callen me 'Duey', saying I would be da fire that lead our kind. But him nor me see de great change coming, so I don’t see no use in bosses."

"Dey come at midday," he continued in a darker tone, leaning into the fire as if he saw the faces of his enemies there. "De elders receive dem at da water's edge. Dey was dressed in red, and dey say, "We must meet, talk, and make peace." Me fadder say, "Whysa we needs meet? Wesa have peace already. We never make war on de Naboo. We live on oursa land, dey on ders." But de man say da Naboo have much riches to give us, and much learning. Hesa say de Gods wants us to maken de peace between us, and live as one. So me fadder agree. Me fadder was de boss, yousa know, and he speak to da Council and say Let us bring dese Naboo to oursen home and welcome dem. So de Council agree and mesa fadder send runners to de Naboo, sayin' "Come and have meat with us, and we make an alliance between us.

"All de elders of de village went to de meeting with da Naboo. Only de young and de old and sick were left behind. Dis is as de Naboo said it should be. Dey say, everybody must come to make de peace, or de truce cannot be made. Dey say dis is da way of de Naboo. We young ones crept up to da council room door and listen, cause wesa wanted to see de strange folk what were called Naboo.

"Dere was no talking. Wesa heard a noise like screaming and huffing and puffing, fighting and crashing like da thunder in de sky, and we ran away, so scared we was. When wesa come back, de Naboo was gone. And all oursa kin…"

Here Duey broke off as if his strength had failed him, but his face seemed impassive. Sabe wondered if a Gungan could weep at all, or if it was just not Duey's nature to do so.

"So all the adults of your village died," she said softly. "And all that were left behind were children. You didn't know how to fix the hydrostatic shields when they broke, did you? You didn't even know how to feed yourselves."

Slowly Duey's eyes rose from the fire to meet hers.

"How did you survive?" Sabe asked.

"Wesa banded together. We ate da rats, da grass, mos' anything that we could snatch."

"Including the provisions of the Naboo village across the river?" Sabe asked.

Duey did not answer directly. "Yousa never been hungry…"

"No, I have,” Sabe interrupted, her throat tightening as well as her stomach in remembered hunger pangs. “And I did the same.”

Duey stared at her without expression, or at least one human eyes could read.

"What happened after that? Did the Naboo ever come back?" Sabe asked.

Duey looked uncomfortable. "Dey did, later. Dey come by boat and walken up to de huts. Wesa saw dem, and we went crazy. We stuck dem with our spears, and dey ran away again."

The connections clicked together in Sabe's mind. "But some died, didn't they?"

Duey's eyes dared her to judge him. "Wesa went to de bodies and look. Dey was not de same ones who come before. But wesa know, all de same, if we didn’t kill dem, den we would be de ones gasping on de ground."

Sabe shivered, and attacked the fire with the stick she clenched in her hand, poking at the coals till they sparked and flamed like Duey's eyes, with a boundless rage that could not be quenched. She was silent for a long time, and when she spoke she felt the words sticking along her throat.

"I don't know why it happened Duey, or who exactly the men were who took your family from you. But the king who ordered it was exiled. That is why he came back to the wastelands. He was replaced by a Queen, kind and beautiful, who saw that he was punished for the wrong things he did during his reign. She does not tolerate that kind of cruelty," Sabe paused, smiling to herself. "She even appointed a Gungan into a position of power in the Senate recently, Representative Binks."

Duey looked at her incredulously. "Binks? Him Jar-Jar Binks?!"

"You know him?" Sabe asked, her heart sinking.

Duey spat contemptuously. "Him come as de messenger from Boss Nass. Muchen stupid. Knocked over three huts fore we chased him off."

No wonder Boss Nass didn't get very far in diplomacy, Sabe groaned inwardly. "Still...my point is, Veruna is seen as a criminal among the Naboo now. We reject him, and everything he stood for."

Hesitantly, wondering how the gesture would be taken in the Gungan culture, Sabe reached out and let her fingers rest on his shoulder. "I was a child like you were once, abandoned and starving. I feel…." Her voice failed her, so she met his eyes again, trying to let them convey what she could not put into words. "I want to earn your trust. I want to amend the wrong that was done if there is any way it ever could be.”

Duey seemed held by the sincerity in her voice for at least a moment. But then he broke eye contact and moved away from her, shoving off her hand almost casually. "De past can never be undone."

A shout startled both of them. "Master! She's going into convulsions again!"

Girl and Gungan leapt to their feet, racing into Duey's hut.

Ganya was inside, trying desperately to restrain her daughter from rolling from her lap to the floor. The Gungan child's back was bent at an unnatural angle, her mouth foaming and teeth gnashing. She was so gripped by the seizure that she appeared possessed. Sabe bent and put her hand on the little head, snatching it away in shock at how hot her skin was. Obi-Wan appeared from nowhere and knelt at her side, looking deeply into her pupils and checking the pulse at her earflap. He plunged an autoinjector deeply into her thigh, tossing it away after it emptied. Sabe remembered that it was the last.

All at once the seizure stopped, and the Gungan child went limp and pale. Ganya gave a startled cry, and Obi-Wan bent to press his ear to her chest, his face white. When he lifted it, he looked stricken.

"No." Sabe said, staring at him.

Beside her, Duey looked between the two of them, perplexed. Then his face took on a savageness though he did not say a word. Still, his despair cut right through Sabe, ripping and tearing until something that had been gradually fraying snapped altogether. She pushed Obi-Wan aside roughly and reached for the body of the child.

"Give her to me."

Ganya clutched the body to her chest, leaning away from Sabe, and Sabe knew if she attempted to take the body away, Ganya would attack her and no one would be able to restrain her.

"Are you ready to let her go, Ganya? I'm not. Please give her to me." Sabe pleaded wildly.

With a shuddering, convulsive breath, Ganya slowly unfolded her arms and let Sabe lift the limp child from her lap. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, Sabe glanced at Obi-Wan, whose gray eyes widened with sudden realization. "Sabe, do not! You'll—"

She did not wait for him to finish. She pressed her hand over the child's chest and leaned her forehead down to touch the small ridged brows.

She plunged into the deepest, most turbulent depths of the Force. She did not know how, she should not have been able. But her sense of Duey's grief, her inner, burning rage, and that strange rhythm pounding through her visions seemed to show her the path; weaving like a needle-borne thread through the fabric of sense perception. Deeper and deeper. Power swirled around her in a palpable current, tearing at her. All sense of herself as something isolated and apart fell away, and it was as though her skin separated and her mind splintered.

Images rushed past, and who was watching them, for who was left to be and to sense? The young Duey Opadda stood open-mouthed and horrified before a hydrostatic room full of bodies. There was the leftover tribe of younglings, thin and diseased, eating the rats and grass just as he'd described. There were the farmers from the other side of the river, having put aside their scythes and plows and left their Kaadu to wander in order to come here and finish the job that had been started by others. And there was the starved and outnumbered tribe of Ankura fighting them off, their desperation and lust for revenge alone lending unnatural strength to their frail bodies. They were beautiful and terrible as the exotic predators of the deep as they leapt upon their human prey. Clearly, here was Duey, slitting the throat of the man whose portrait now hung on Rabe's wall.

Then there was this child, and others like her. The new generation. The hope of the tribe. Ome was her name. It was an old Gungan word that meant sky, because her eyes matched it. She played among fields of flowers, swam in the grey waters of the river with the fleet grace of a fish, came upon the warehouse, the laboratory, and the canister with the sweet-smelling substance inside.

Flex. Sabe's sense of herself returned just in time to push and feel something deep inside her draining away. The connection broke, and just as suddenly Sabe's eyes snapped open as she gasped to fill her air-deprived lungs. Panting, she looked into the face of the child she now clutched in her arms. The child looked back up at her with big sky-colored eyes. Sabe dimly heard Duey cry out.

Then she tumbled backwards into nothingness.

Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Voices. They were distant, faint, and sweet.

Children's voices. Children at play.

Other's too; Padme's, Obi-Wan's….Qui-Gon's. In her sleep, Sabe sucked in a breath.

The voices faded.

Light glowed through her closed eyelids. She cracked one experimentally, then groaned and closed it again.

A hand rested lightly on her forehead. "Wake up, Sabe."

She batted away the offending hand grumpily and burrowed into her covering. It smelled of pine.

She recognized Anakin's voice. "She's stubborn even when she's unconscious,"

"You have no idea," Obi-Wan replied drolly. "Sabe, wake up!"

With a growl, she opened her eyes fully.

She was lying in Duey Opadda's hut. The light outside was dimmer than before, redder, making the skins tacked to the wall seem as if they were still wet with blood. She squinted at it, confused. What time was it? Then she plucked at her covering and realized she'd been placed on one of the two mattresses and wrapped with a cloak. She looked up at the four faces peering at her worriedly; two Ankuran, and two human. One of the Ankuran faces was noticeably smaller, with brilliant blue eyes.

Obi-Wan let out a long breath as a tremor crossed his features. He rose from his knees and walked out through the curtain that covered the door of the hut.

Anakin glanced at him, then turned his face to Sabe and forced a smile. "You really had us worried for a while there," he said.

"What happened?" Sabe croaked.

He shook his head. "You took a header into Duey's floor. But not before…" He gestured wordlessly at the Ankuran child beside him.

Sabe sat up a little painfully, rubbing her sore neck and staring at the child. The child stared back, giggled, and held out a chubby three-fingered hand. Gently Sabe pried back the little fingers. A river-stone laid in her palm, its surface made silky by ages of current. Sabe took the stone and touched Ome's face. "Are you better?" She whispered.

"Well, she's been running us ragged for the last two hours with her antics," Anakin said. "Kind of reminds me of myself…"

The curtain was pushed aside and Obi-Wan re-entered the hut. "Anakin, go to our ship and bring some food and water. Sabe must be nourished if she is to recover."

"Right now? Master—"

"Now, padawan," Obi-Wan's face was composed, but stony.

Anakin huffed and left the hut. Ome followed at a skip. Duey lingered, looking at Sabe as if he was trying to think of something to say. Apparently the battle was lost and he too left, his eyes clouded.

Sabe steeled herself. She'd rarely seen Obi-Wan in such a mood, and nothing good ever came of it.

"What happened?" He asked.

Sabe twisted the unraveling threads of the old blanket around her fingers and avoided his eyes. "I made her better."

"You have never shone any indication of healing ability before, but you have just come out with the most astonishing display of it I have ever witnessed. How?" He demanded.

Sabe shrugged. "I really wanted to, I suppose."

"That seems to be a rather large understatement."

Sabe glared at him. She tossed the blanket aside and stood, stepping into her shoes which had been laid out just beside the little pallet. A wave of dizziness nearly overtook her, but she refused to let it show. "Why the inquisition?"

Obi-Wan gaped at her. "You know why. You could have killed yourself, or worse. Even a master healer in the Temple wouldn't have attempted such a thing."

"I'm fine. Everything's fine," Sabe retorted. She started for the door.

Obi-Wan blocked her path. "Guilt, fear, anger. You used all of them to heal that child, and you know where they lead."

Sabe pushed past him.

"It was Sith-like, Sabe!"

Obi-Wan never raised his voice like that. Like, Qui-Gon, he never had to. His voice cracked as if the volume were too much for it without any practice. Sabe whirled around, eyes flashing. "How dare you?!"

Whatever had caused him to momentarily lose his temper disappeared in an instant. He spoke in a monotone. "A surge of power caused by extreme emotions? Search your feelings. You know that you are unable to control that. You run a great risk of becoming lost in it, no matter how good your intentions."

Sabe had no reply.

"I feel that you are becoming too personally involved in this assignment, to the point where you may not be able to carry out your duties at all," He said.

"How can I not feel for them?" Sabe asked, her voice quavering. "My people did this to them, Obi-Wan."

"The Ankuran's situation is regrettable, and it should be addressed. But it is not our reason for being here," Obi-Wan said.

"I hardly think healing one Gungan child is forgetting my duty to a murderous tyrant," Sabe snapped.

"Are you suggesting that what happened to him was justified?" Obi-Wan asked.

She looked away. "Of course not."

"Anakin and I will not exceed our mandate," He said with finality, and turned to leave again.

Utter confusion and defeat joined her anger. When she had healed the child, she had felt no other motivation except a desperate need to right a terrible wrong. How could that be a pathway to evil?

"Qui-Gon would not have—" she murmured, and then stopped herself, instantly ashamed.

Obi-Wan froze.

"I am not Qui-Gon," He said icily.

Sabe knew she had gone too far, but there was no taking it back now. "Can nothing ever move you?"

He wouldn't even look at her. In fact, he was looking pointedly at everything but her. He stood with his arms crossed defensively across his chest. She sensed what he was doing; releasing his anger, attempting to revert back to a passive, accepting state, and failing at it.

"One cannot achieve peace when emotion alone is at the root of every action. They are the source of violence," he said tightly.

"There must be a balance," Sabe insisted. "If the Jedi succeeded in cleansing themselves of every emotion, wouldn't compassion be lost as well?"

"I do not have to defend the Code to you, Sabe," he said more quietly.

"I'm not asking you to," Sabe said. "Only to defend it to yourself if you can."

He turned his head, and his eyes made a shiver go through her. He made no further argument except in the wordless supplication of his eyes. She did not know how to answer the question there, or even ascertain exactly what it was. Before she could speak again he was gone, the curtain still swinging slightly from his passage.

There was a tense silence as they made camp that night, and the next day passed with little accomplished. Obi-Wan flatly denied Sabe's request to return to the wastelands, saying she needed to rest before any attempt to gain more information was made. Sabe didn't have the heart to start another argument with him, but she eluded his attempts to keep her confined to Duey's hut. It was ridiculous. She did feel drained, but otherwise fine, and her curiosity burned for more information about the village and its tribe of refugees. Thanks to their astonishment at Ome's healing, there was nothing to prevent her from walking among them as a guest, except that wherever she went she felt them watching her as if she might come out with some other shocking display. And wherever she went, Ome followed. Despite her critical illness only a day before, the little Ankuran seemed to have a limitless supply of energy. It wasn't long before Sabe began to enjoy her presence. At least it distracted her from the residual guilt and anger from the argument the previous day.

The three visitors soon found that the village was always a beehive of activity, and sometimes it seemed as if there was a note of hysteria in it, as if the inhabitants expected some crisis any minute.

The crisis came at midday.

The first sign was a shout from one of the younger Ankurans lingering beside the Bongos next to the river. With a string of anxious words in Gunganese, he pointed to the faint dots traveling toward them from downstream.

Sabe looked up from where Ome was showing her a cache of freshwater mussels. Her brow knitted. Kneeling for a moment, she whispered to the child, "Go fetch me some of those flowers you showed me earlier."

Ome grinned and scampered off.

By the time the swarm of hydrobikes had entered the pool formed by the currents of the massive waterfall, Sabe could recognize Rori and Rabe in the leading bike. She quickened her step down to the shore, noting the gathering crowd of Ankura with spears at the ready. But looking around, she did not see either Anakin or Obi-Wan. No surprise there. Anakin had been holed up with Veruna's holograph for hours, and Obi-Wan had been keeping very much to himself since their…discussion.

Rori and Rabe's hydrobike scraped across sand in the shallow water of the lake.

"Yousa no welcome here," Duey said threateningly, pushing to the front of the crowd.

"Not looking for welcome. Just what's mine," Rori said, leaping lightly from the padded seat. Behind him, a sizeable party of other village men pulled up on their own bikes and held their weapons trained on Duey. Rori stormed over to the bongos and began picking up cargo that had recently been unloaded.

An angry murmur ran through the Ankura, and Duey insinuated himself between Rori and the supplies, leveling his spear at the man's chest. Sabe saw the other village men lift their weapons higher. Their fingers tensed on triggers.

"Stop this!" She shouted, pushing through the Ankura and standing in between Duey and Rori. She turned toward Rori. "I will pay for the goods. Just please leave. This won't settle anything."

She looked at Rabe, silently pleading with her to help separate the two.

Rabe avoided her eyes as she pulled her hydrobike onto the sand.

"This is the last time these damn savages steal from us and live!" Rori said turning toward her, but not lowering his blaster. "And if you stand between me and them, I'll just have to assume you are helping them rob us!"

Sabe's fear turned into anger. "You made them what they are. You and the rest of your village."

His eyes narrowed.

"I know why your brother was here fourteen years ago. He didn't just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, did he Rori?" She knew she was pushing way too far for the second time in less than a day, but her temper was once again taking the reigns. She could feel Rabe's shocked silence from the shore, but she paid it no attention.

"They never touched your land before the massacre, did they? You were ordered to start skirmishes, to create a 'security threat' where none existed. And you followed like a herd of kaadu, happy to do anything for an acre or two of land or a handful of credits,"

Rori advanced on her threateningly. "You should shut that smart mouth, missy, and damn well think before you talk about things you don't know anything about."

"They may be thieves, but they don't attempt to murder children," Sabe said.

Rori grabbed her arm in a bruising grip, a sound of rage making it past his lips. Sabe heard Rabe cry out, and then the unmistakable buzz of a lightsaber. Instantaneously, its blue blade was burning within an inch of Rori's nose.

"That will do, Rori," Obi-Wan said.

Rori released her roughly. She might have fallen except for Duey's supporting hand. Rori stood there attempting to control himself, his breathing harsh.

"You will have to settle this another time. Get into your boats and leave," Obi-Wan said.

Rori's looked from Obi-Wan's steely eyes, to the unwavering lightsaber. He spat contemptuously at Sabe's feet and stormed toward his hydrobike, past Rabe who stood frozen on the beach.

Rabe half turned as if to follow Rori. She looked between Sabe and him with a helpless expression.

"Why did you not tell me, Rabe?" Sabe asked, an ache in her chest.

"I did tell you!" Rabe snapped. "I made no secret of the fact that there was ill blood between us and the Ankura."

"But you did make secret the fact that Rori's brothers came to slaughter a decimated band of children. You did gloss over the fact that the farmers saw the massacre as an opportunity to add to their own wealth. And there is more you are hiding, as well…"

"I'm not hiding anything," Rabe said, stiffening.

"Why would you give your loyalty to a man like that?!" Sabe hissed, pointing to where Rori climbed aboard his hydrobike. "The girl I used to know would never have gone along with this."

"Don't you dare judge me, Sabe. You know nothing of love or family, and you know nothing about me." Rabe said,

Sabe rocked back on her heels, stung.

Rabe climbed on the hydrobike behind Rori, gripping his waist as it revolved slowly in the water. "You knew nothing of me then, and you know nothing now," She shouted over her shoulder as the engine thrummed to life.

"You look troubled, padawan," Obi-Wan said.

The crowd had dispersed shortly after the hydrobikes disappeared across the river. Sabe had disappeared as well. Anakin was looking into the river itself as if it had offended him, his fist knotted against the hilt of his lightsaber. The sky overhead was overcast now with a stiff, chilly wind from the north, disturbing the water into choppy slate and green waves with foamy crests. "I am troubled, Master. By these people."

It was useless to ask why. They were ambiguous, and Anakin always had a strong dislike of ambiguity.

"Rori's an idiot, master, but he's not entirely wrong. They do not apologize or even seem ashamed for their theft. They make no obvious attempt to change their situation or improve their lives. They are savages," he said.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest, watching the busy dock. "They do what they feel they must to survive. Attempting to draw conclusions about an entire group of individuals usually leads you to the wrong one."

"Even if the villagers did them a great wrong over a decade ago, why do we defend the Ankura from the people they rob? Surely that is not the Jedi way." Anakin's eyes burned with a righteous fire that Obi-Wan knew well. It had a great deal to do with his padawan's deep belief that there were absolutes to be found in every situation if one could just look hard enough for them.

"You know our orders, Anakin. Our only role here is to keep the situation as stable as possible until we have learned who commited Veruna's murder."

Anakin tried a different tactic. "I know you worry too, particularly about Sabe getting too wrapped up in them. You follow her like a mother hen half the time and gaze at her the rest."

Of course, his ploy worked immediately.

"I do not gaze at Sabe," Obi-Wan protested.

Anakin lifted an eyebrow.

Obi-Wan refolded his hands beneath his sleeves, trying hard to appear unperturbed. "You are projecting, young one."

Anakin rolled his eyes.

"Certainly I have a professional regard for Sabe. We have a friendship that spans many years. But if you mean to imply that—"

Before he could finish, they were interrupted by a commotion from the river. They turned just in time to see Sabe poised on the edge of a particularly steep bank, her arms wind-milling dramatically before she toppled into the river with a resounding splash.

Anakin opened his mouth to call out, but his cry was muffled by the thick material of Obi-Wan's discarded cloak smacking into his face. He pulled it from his eyes and watched, shaking his head, as Obi-Wan dove into the water and swam toward the spot where Sabe had disappeared.

A crowd of Ankura turned to also follow the exaggerated splashing and noise of Obi-Wan's rescue attempt. They looked at Anakin, perplexed.

Anakin shrugged, tossing the cloak over his shoulder with a smirk on his face. It was exhausting to watch Obi-Wan and Sabe sometimes. Perhaps Obi-Wan could avoid drowning long enough for him to work on Veruna's holovid.

When I lay hands on that youngling, Sabe thought, squinting through the milky current of the river to find the Gungan child who had dunked her. Ome appeared out of nowhere like some sea sprite out of legend. Sabe made a grab for her, but the child flipped out of her hands like a slippery bar of soap. Paddling over her head upside down, Ome giggled infectiously. "Swim!" she said quite clearly.

Sabe blinked. She would have to ask later how the child was able to vocalize so easily underwater. But the light filtering through the current and her unexpected buoyancy in the sediment-laden water gave everything such a dreamlike quality that for a moment she simply floated, allowing herself to enjoy the sensations. She couldn't move through the water with Ome's grace, but she paddled behind the child at an easy pace, looking with wonder at the shadowed fronds of aquatic plants swaying ten feet below her and at the brilliant colors of the jewel-like fish that flitted by.

There was a pronounced swish behind her, and a mass of bubbles floated past as if something big was approaching. She and Ome turned at the same time. Obi-Wan's face hovered before her, looking concerned. She was flummoxed as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. She tried to move away, but his arm was firm as he hauled her unceremoniously toward shallow water.

They broke the surface at the same time. "Quit struggling, Sabe! You are safe," Obi-Wan ordered.

"Safe?" Sabe exclaimed. "How was I endangered?!"

Obi-Wan shook the water from his eyes and gaped at her. "I saw you fall in, and I did not see you come up again."

Sabe burst out laughing. "I can swim, Obi-Wan! Ome just surprised me."

Ome chose that moment to flip acrobatically out of the water onto the bank, and run into the underbrush chortling.

Obi-Wan watched the Ankuran child open-mouthed before annoyance clearly covered his face. He sloshed toward the shore indignantly, wringing out his tunic as he went. Sabe's giggling continued, and he threw an exasperated look over his shoulder through the sodden hair that had fallen down over his eyes.

"Oh dear, Obi-Wan. Have you lost your sense of humor entirely?" She teased.

He turned, his face stern. "It is customary to offer thanks to one's rescuer," he said. "Or did you skip that class in your handmaiden training as well?"

He's still angry with me. Of course he is, Sabe thought with a little sigh. She recognized the laughter hiding in his grey eyes too late. Before she had time to react, he swept his hand along the surface of the water, splashing her full in the face.

Sabe mouth dropped open. She splashed back with all her might. "Rescuer?! With that tunic dragging you and that ridiculous flailing you were doing, you are fortunate I did not have to rescue you!"

"Perhaps I should just put you back where I found you, since you object so much," Obi-Wan continued, his eyes dancing.

Sabe felt herself briefly dunked underwater as if by an unseen hand. She surfaced, and spit out river-water. "You…you rascal!" She spluttered in outrage, lunging for him.

Obi-Wan chuckled as he caught her by her wrists. Struggling, Sabe freed one hand to reach up and muss his hair back into his eyes. His hopelessly disheveled appearance got the better of her, and she laughed until her sides ached, relieved to let go of the tension that had been between them since Ome's healing.

Their laughter subsided, and Sabe wiped her eyes. "About what I said yesterday—" she began apologetically.

"Let's not discuss it again," Obi-Wan interrupted, his smile falling away.

"But Obi-Wan…"

He silenced her with his fingers on her lips.

At the contact Sabe suddenly realized just how closely they were standing to one another. With a sharp intake of breath she lifted her eyes uncertainly to Obi-Wan's, and immediately saw that he had noticed as well. Everything seemed to still around them as his fingers slowly moved from her lips to her cheekbone, tracing it to her hairline. When he lowered his head, Sabe reached up to pull him down with eager hands.

His lips were almost burning compared to the chill of the air against her damp skin. Sabe's eyes fluttered closed as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Her senses narrowed to the most basic and natural of things; the course fabric of his tunic and the quickening beat of his pulse beneath her hand, the wiry strength of the arm that held her, and the urgent motion of his mouth on hers. Then words filtered through her mind; disconnected observations about the texture of her hair, the color of her eyes, the way her skin felt against his hand. With a jolt she realized they were not her own thoughts. But as quickly her crumbling defenses dropped away entirely, and they too seemed nothing more than natural.

It made it all the more unnatural when he pulled away from her. Whatever the link was, it broke abruptly. Sabe swayed with the release. Her eyes were still closed as he hastened to shore. She opened them just in time to see his haunted expression, and only half heard him as he spoke rapidly. "I should not have done that. I am sorry."

He disappeared into the trees.

It took about ten minutes of standing there in shock for Sabe to finally notice that the water was cold and uncomfortable, and that sediment was in her hair and drying to her skin in a fine, itchy layer. Her limbs felt heavy, and fatigue dogged her steps out of a current that was now hungry and malignant. Somehow nothing in the day was right anymore.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Naboo, six weeks ago

The Galump easily showed the reason for its name as it made its characteristic mutterings while digging the soft turf for roots. Pushing its broad, spiky nose into the ground, it chewed noisily and swung its knobbed tail happily, giving no indication that it sensed the approach of a predator.

Duey tensed in a crouch, gripping his spear as even his breathing silenced. He eyed the proportions of the animal appreciatively. The creature's broad haunches could be salted and feed the village for days. Its tail knob would make a rattle for Ome, and its soft hide a cloak for Ganya. It would be a fine kill, and if he accomplished it, there would be a feast in the village tonight, music. Joy. But if he did not, the thick, curved claws on the creature's powerful two-toed feet might reach him. Or if it escaped, they might not get another chance at proper food for days. Ome would whimper in her sleep from hunger pains, Ganya's eyes would grow even more flat and weary from hearing her.

Joy and sorrow. At every moment the Gungan's life swung from one extreme to the other, but he could barely remember a time when it had not been so.

Suddenly the Galump started and rose on legs ridiculously long and thin for its massive body. With a shrieking cry it sprang from the clearing and loped off, disappearing into the trees. There was no use following. A Galump in full gallop could hit speeds of 40 to 50 miles per hour.

Duey was so dismayed at his failure that he did not notice the quiet that had fallen on the forest at first. Then he realized that the birds had stopped singing, and the little primates that usually chattered among themselves in the treetops and threw berries at visitors were all gone. A heavy air of lifelessness had descended, and he knew then that he was now being hunted.

Standing, he slipped further back into the thicker undergrowth, keeping to the shadowed spots. He flicked a small, hidden switch in the handle of his spear and the blade bifurcated, bleeding through with electric current that sparked between the two points. It was a capability he only used in combat, the power burning flesh and charring bone past the point of usefulness in a hunt. It was the only piece of technology left from the old days.

A figure in black stood on his right, watching him silently.

"Whosa dere?!" Duey demanded, hefting the power-spear in his hand, poised for the throw.

For a moment the person did not move or speak. Then with a fluid movement, he lifted his hands and pulled the hood from his head. Duey saw the creased, waxen features of an elderly human.

"Howsa you bese here?" He asked, the spear trembling in his hand.

The man blinked, his smile disarmingly mild. "I didn't mean to frighten you. When I was a child we often played in these forests. We believed they were enchanted."

"Dis da Ankuran land," Duey hissed, advancing.

"I do not wish to harm you," the man said, glancing at the spear but not flinching or withdrawing an inch. "I only want to clear my conscience."

"What yousa mean?"

The man clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head with an attitude of sorrow. "Fourteen years ago a great injustice was enacted on your people by my countrymen."

"What youssen knowen 'bout dat?"

"A great deal more than I would wish," the man said in a low voice. "My people were led by a lie, the lie of a madman. My friend, I have come to tell you that the madman is here."

"My would knowen," Duey scoffed, but his spear point fell.

"The king who ordered the strike on your tribe was exiled to the wastelands just beyond your borders. He arrived by ship and has been living there for years."

Duey stared at him. His tribe had seen the ship, and other ships after, crisscrossing the skies far over the forest canopy, descending into the cursed scar his culture had always feared. But since the ships had flown beyond their lands, they had decided they were no immediate threat.

"He resides in a warehouse twenty minutes east," the old man continued.

"Whysa you tellen me dis?" Duey asked suspiciously.

The man sighed. "Friend, my countrymen have recognized this man for the criminal he is. But they have not the courage to bring him to the justice he deserves, choosing instead to put him out of sight and out of mind."

The man stepped closer to Duey, his eyes overflowing with sadness and sympathy. "Veruna believed, as my own family once did, in the ancient principle of "Sideous von falcos" – that might makes right. I cannot repair all the wrongs that my kinsmen wrought, but I can address this one. The blood of your parents cries out for vengeance."

Duey drew in a shuddering breath, and turned abruptly. He began pacing. Everything in the man's voice and manner seemed to suggest honesty. But his hunter's instincts told him that something was awry. Duey had only managed to keep his tribe together and fed because of his strong judgement and fortitude, but also because of the difficulty of gaining his trust. And something, nothing he could pinpoint, but something about the man made icy fingers touch his spine. Still, the man's last statement made his fists clench at his sides.

"But perhaps you are too afraid to give them that."

"We da free Gungans. Wesa no fear nothing!" Duey snapped.

The man raised his eyebrows and smiled, as if this were all some pleasant game. Duey disliked his smile. He began pacing again like a tusk cat in a cage.

He turned on his heel. "Howsa—"

But the spot where the man had stood a moment before was empty, not even the leaves rustling from his passage. Duey was alone again.

After much thought on the incident, Duey decided he had been visited by one of the Gods.

"There is no emotion, there is peace.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

There is no death, there is the Force."

No peace came to him. Even here, in the cool sterility of their ship where neither Anakin or Sabe would look for him for awhile. He'd been sitting here for hours, his hands resting lightly on his knees, trying to drop into that dim, ancient station of mind where he usually found such clarity. But today, the harder he sought for it, the more easily it eluded him. Sweat stood out on his brow. He could not let Anakin encounter him like this. The last time he had felt so shaken to his foundations had been just after Qui-Gon's death. And even then he had been shored up by the Council, by his promise to train Anakin, and by Sabe.

Sabe….His mind clenched again, like a fist.

The order taught that the will of the Force was inviolable. In the end, regardless of any mortal act, it would be cleansed of all darkness, the divisions between minds would fall to dust, and the unity of all life would begin again as a single sentient being which would never die. He who set his will against this through greed, fear, and despair would be entrenched in misery, and would disappear with that final cleansing.

But the order also taught that all sentient creatures had the freedom to choose, the will to flow with the Force, or against it. Such a simple truth, but so staggering to the mind from the youngest initiate to the highest master.

What was fear? What was pain? What was darkness itself? Were they merely foils to the greater light? Were they necessary for the light to exist? Were they creators of free will? Did the force want? What did it want?

The order existed as a retreat from all those things that clouded perception of the force; marriage, family, politics, the caprices of the world. But the Jedi had sworn to protect society, and could one truly do that if one was permanently apart from it? Could the Temple itself become an attachment, overshadowing the will of the Force with its own?

What am I considering? He wondered. How has one kiss thrown me back into this morass?

It had not felt like defiance, and from his youth he remembered defiance well. There had been no notes of greed or possessiveness in that moment in the river, only the coming together of two souls by mutual choice, a pure and joyful celebration of the breath in their bodies and the blood in their veins. We exist! Sabe had seemed to whisper to him in that kiss, in the butterfly quick tattoo of her heart, in the warm pressure of her lips. We are in this moment in this place and embrace it!

Could it stay like that? Could any of the other things the Code forbade? Or did they all by their nature turn to avarice? What then was safe? The joy of that moment had seemed another version of the highest ecstasies of meditation, the rewards of hard study, or a just victory in battle. They all seemed to carry the same shade of meaning. Did they all carry the same deadly turn?

I am a knight of the order. My life is not my own.

Those words did feel like defiance. They had the ring of cowardice, or perhaps the absence of object constancy in a very young child; the idea that if you covered your eyes with your hands, the facts would cease to exist.

It wasn't as if he was a stranger to desire. Siri Tachi's face floated briefly to mind, her lips quirked in the teasing grin she always seemed to wear. But even that had been little more than an experiment, two teenagers' brief foray into forbidden territory. When it had run away with them, they had mutually decided to walk away in allegiance to the Code they both had sworn to. And he had stepped back into that place apart; the silent witness, the knight, the Negotiator.

Was that a choice? Or was it out of weakness? Did he use the Code to shield himself from questions he feared to ask?

The Order was all he knew. He feared to think of life without it. He feared the state of the Republic without the keen minds in the Temple that were a direct creation of its Code. All he loved was tangled up with the ideals of the Order.

Separation from the Order would be far more crippling than the amputation of a body part. It would be like amputating himself from…himself.

With this sudden recognition, he felt something in him, some knot tied up in the vicinity of his chest release as if by cue. He allowed his eyes to slip closed again, and then he let go of everything. Like a prisoner stepping outside his cell at last, he released a long sigh as the Force received him.

Darkness surrounded him, inky, utter blackness. It was as thick as oil, and immense. He could sense the size of it. It was everything, everywhere. Nothing did not suffer its sick touch, no sentient creature, no molecule of matter. No light was not polluted by it except for one; a red glow twinkling somewhere far ahead. And after a time, through this great, thick, sludge of blackness the livid fire burned.

Have I fallen asleep?Obi-Wan wondered to himself.

He thought if it were true, it would not be the question he would be asking himself. The fire grew and strengthened, until he realized that it was not actually getting bigger, he was getting closer. Now he could discern the individual flames, licking up the stone sides of the great statues that guarded the front of the Temple.

Horror growing, he saw the flashes of lightsabers beneath the statues, one of them tiny. That was Master Yoda. The other he did not recognize. His hand dropped to his side for his lightsaber before he realized that he had no hand, no side. He was a pair of eyes in this vision, a creature without substance or form.

From between the two figures he saw a black shape burst. It was an Equiis, and it seemed to cover the distance from the Temple to him in no time at all, the fire that was consuming the Temple reflecting in a bloody sheen over its muscled hide. The man in a black cloak on its back was huddled so closely behind its neck that at first Obi-Wan thought it was only a bundle of cloth somehow tied there. The man rode leaning into its neck and gripping its mane as if he was terrified of riding and clinging for dear life. But then the cloaked man rose to his full height, detaching himself from the Equiis's back like a flea, and with one smooth jerk of his arms, pulled the Equiis's head around and slowed it to a dancing, impatient walk. A blast of hot wind blew the cloak hood from the man's head, and Obi-Wan saw the tumultuous brown eyes reddened with grief, the attractive face streaked with dirt and tears, the strong chin below trembling as his lips moved to produce the words;

"Master, we are all orphans now."

With a sharp gasp of horror, Obi-Wan came back to himself in the ship, cross-legged on the floor.

From the front of the ship, the main comvid turned on, beeping as it received a message.

Sabe had been staring into the sky past the point when tricks of the eye made swarming forms in the unyielding, cloudless blue. The clouds had passed earlier in the day and the sun was warm and yellow, but it only seemed to touch the surface of the cold she felt.

She wondered if servants of the darkness could perceive a sunny day, the verdant throbbing power in gathered trees, the play of light in a river. Or was everything for them filtered to monochrome through that leprous, malicious gaze?

She smiled to herself humorlessly. Does a crazy person know she's crazy?

"Sabe?"

Sabe turned. Anakin stood further up the bank, a bunch of flimsy clutched in his mechanical hand. She tilted her head. He'd never mentioned it, and kept it hidden as well as he could beneath the flowing sleeves of his robes. Did it still pain him? He followed her gaze and switched the papers to his good hand, tucking the artificial one out of sight as he held them out to her.

"I was able to retrieve these codes from the holovid's databank. Though it will cost you, as much trouble as it gave me," he smiled wanly.

She took the flimsy and flipped through it. Most of the codes meant nothing to her. It would probably take months of tracing to find out all their sources…

She stopped as a familiar one leaped out at her. "This is the palace code."

"Probably from the day Veruna sent his distress call," Anakin said, settling down beside her.

"Yes. But it appears more than once, back many months," Sabe said.

"Do you think he suspected his danger and tried to get aid before?" Anakin suggested.

Sabe put the flimsy aside and rubbed her forehead. She had had contact with the Queen that morning, and her tone had been… What had it been?

"What news from the south, Agent Naberrie?"

"Evidence of illegal spice trading, possibly with the Separatists."

Jamillia pressed her lips together, her dark eyes cloudy. "And what progress have you made toward finding his killer?"

"Rudimentary, my lady," Sabe said, confused by her lack of reaction. "But I feel if we follow the trail of his contacts and suppliers—"

"Your role is not military intelligence, Agent. It is to solve a murder. Be mindful to keep your focus on that."

"Are you alright, Sabe?" Anakin asked, jerking her from her thoughts.

She looked down. Her hands were trembling on the flimsy. "I don't know, Anakin," she whispered. "I wish I knew how far down the rabbit hole went."

Anakin's comvid bleated. He slipped it from the pouch on his belt and acknowledged Obi-Wan. A brown leather pouch, embossed with the seal of the Jedi. It caught Sabe's attention so completely that she did not even notice his conversation with his Master until he had turned off his comvid. "Obi-Wan wants me back on the ship. He has received a message from the council."

He leapt to his feet and walked back toward the river. Before Sabe could follow, her own comvid beeped. She jumped. "Eirtae?" she answered wonderingly.

"What is this sample you have sent me?" Eirtae's voice was nearly shrill.

"Something Veruna was working on. Why?" Sabe asked.

"Well, whatever it is, it's hot," Eirtae said. "As soon as I entered it into an analyzer droid I had officers of the ministry of defense at my office door wondering what I was doing."

The cold settled more deeply in her chest. "What did you tell them?"

"That I was working under the Queen's order. What's going on Sabe? Why would they be interested in this stuff?"

Sabe sighed deeply. From the start she had been working off feeling and instinct alone, and they had not failed her yet. "It is a chemical weapon, Eirtae, a mix of dioxis and spice to make it impervious to the Jedi antidote. I think Veruna has been peddling it to the separatists."

The comvid went completely silent. Sabe looked at its signal reading, but it was still strong. "Eirtae?"

"Have you seen its symptoms?" Eirtae asked in a faint voice.

"Once, in a young Gungan. Fever, respiratory difficulty, seizure, bruising on the abdomen. Why?"

"Sabe, have you not seen the dispatches?" Eirtae half-shrieked.

Sabe held the comvid slightly away from her ear, wincing. The cold feeling in her chest froze solid. "I'm in the middle of the rainforest, Eirtae. What's happened?"

She heard Eirtae take a breath. "The throne has not had contact with Ohma Dun for days, since just after those outages I mentioned. Today a survivor made it back to Theed."

Survivor…?

"He had all the symptoms you described. He died this afternoon."

Even though she had run all the way from the river to their ship, Obi-Wan and Anakin had almost completed their preparations. The engine was already rumbling, the rear of the ship spouting cerulean plasma.

"You cannot leave me behind," she said without preamble, stalking up to Obi-Wan where he checked the settings in one of the shield generators.

His focus on the generator intensified, as if it held the secret to life. "I assume you have learned of the events on Ohma Dun, then."

She cleared her throat impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Anakin and I must see to this threat alone," Obi-Wan murmured, adjusting a dial. "You are not prepared for the kind of battle we expect, and your orders are here. You will be safe with the Ankurans now."

"It is happening again, Obi-Wan. They are slaughtering Gungans up there, and…and I have reason to think the crown is involved," Sabe said.

He looked at her then, his gray eyes clearing as if he'd been startled out of sleep. "If that is true, then it is imperative that you remain."

"Obi-Wan…"

He turned away, chafing his furrowed brow with the tips of his fingers.

"Are you running away?" Sabe said softly

He sighed, his shoulders slumping with weariness. "I am doing my duty. As you must remain with yours."

"Will you return?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"I don't know." He said.

Wordless, Sabe watched him close the fireproof panel over the shield generator, lifting his tool bag and ascending the ramp into the ship. She looked to the side. All her belongings had been stacked neatly on the ground. They had also unloaded a small transport pod for her, she presumed to get back to Theed when she was ready.

A hopeless feeling filled her. "Obi-Wan."

He turned, his eyes rising to hers with obvious reluctance.

"The force…" She closed her eyes briefly, forcing the bitter-tasting words out of her mouth. "The force be with you, Obi-Wan."

He inclined his head and disappeared into the ship.

Asajj Ventress watched from the shadows, her smile widening and her breath coming easier as she felt the two strong force presences diminishing into the distance with the flight of the ship.

Everything was going according to plan.

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Naboovian Airspace

As soon as they were airborne the Council commed with detailed instructions. Obi-Wan glanced over them and groaned. Anakin gave him a curious look as he held the airship steady through some rough updrafts.

"We are to return to Theed for a briefing with the Queen. There we will meet with two others. Only two for a start, the nearest clone squadron is over a day's journey away," Obi-Wan read.

"Okay. Why do you look so constipated?" Anakin asked.

"Our comrades will be Glaive Rantooi and his padawan."

"Ahhhhhh." Obi-Wan and Glaive's less than warm relationship was no great secret. It had gone back to the early days of their training. "Now, Master, you must be careful to keep your mind focused and not allow personal feelings to cloud your judgement."

"Thank you, Anakin, I'll keep it in mind," Obi-Wan said through his teeth.

But it was difficult to keep anything in mind with Glaive around. He was deeply insecure, that much was obvious to anyone. To compensate, he was loud, brash, boastful, and worked hard to condescend to anyone he felt threatened by. Obi-Wan had often wondered how Anakin was delayed in his trials when Glaive had gone through with little impediment. Some whispered that it was his preference for Vaapad, the lightsaber style that Mace Windu himself had mastered, and their inexplicable friendship besides…

Obi-Wan chided himself silently for wasting mental energy on a decade-old decision of the council. Then he remembered that sulking about Glaive had been distracting him from what...or who he was leaving behind.

"Stop worrying," Anakin said firmly.

Obi-Wan looked at him in surprise. Anakin raised one eyebrow. "She'll be alright. She's plucky," He looked back at the horizon, his face softening in the most profound way. "Like Padme."

Except now Obi-Wan was more worried. He looked down at his folded hands pensively. The other problem of course, was that Anakin had observational powers he didn't give him nearly enough credit for. Troubled, he changed the subject. "We will be going in blind, Anakin. With a comrade who is known for his impulsiveness. I need to know you will be at my side. I cannot have you and Glaive rushing in without a plan."

"I'm with you, Master," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan smiled and believed him.

It was approaching nightfall when they entered the Royal Hangar. Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin as his padawan made a flawless landing in the wide bay and wondered if he was thinking of the last time they had set foot here. A group was waiting for them, and Obi-Wan was able to recognize a few faces from the days of the invasion. The memories were as vivid as if it had happened yesterday… Obi-Wan took a steadying breath and then released it. Anakin gave him a questioning look as he followed him out of the cockpit and down the gangplank into the cool recycled air of the hangar. Obi-Wan bowed deeply before the poker faced man who stood rigidly at the head of the group. "Captain Panaka," he greeted him, with sincere warmth.

Panaka had aged well, with the barest sprinkling of silver in his close cropped hair, and lines that lent gravity rather than frailty to his features. He didn't concede so much as a half smile to recognize their previous acquaintance, but instead snapped to almost military attention. "Welcome, Jedi Kenobi," He said in the familiar clipped tone. "The Queen awaits your arrival in the throne room."

"We are at her service," Obi-Wan said.

Without further exposition Panaka and his small company of palace guards led them out of the hanger and up the palace steps. Obi-Wan and Anakin had only a moment to glance around the square to see what had changed. The answer was very little, except of course that the rubble of the invasion had long since been cleared away. It was very odd to contrast the peaceful, refined Theed of today with the tense city under siege where they had once spent so much time…and lost so much. Then he had not been able to see how charming a place it was, like a daydream magicked into existence. Every inch seemed crowned with flowers or adjacent to some little fountain or marble statue clearly carved by a master's hand. And of course so much lush green. The air itself was soft and perfumed. The square was full of couples and families enjoying the sunshine. A few of them stared to see Jedi in their city, but they were not disturbed long. The scars of the invasion had finally faded, and war was once again something that happened on other planets.

In the anteroom outside the huge marble chamber where the Queen held court, they saw Glaive and his padawan, San Rou. The looked like polar opposites. Glaive was huge, bald, and freckled, and San Rou a compact, wiry Changeling with dark coloring.

"Obi-Wan," Glaive acknowledged coldly.

"Glaive," Obi-Wan said with equal distaste.

San Rou in contrast, bowed respectfully. "Deeply honored, Master Kenobi."

Glaive rolled his eyes. "Fashionably late, as always. There's no technique Kenobi and Skywalker have mastered so well as the art of making an entrance."

"Forgive me," Obi-Wan said. "We were assisting an old friend, and a former associate of the Temple. I believe you'll recall Sabe. Didn't you have the same sparring class once?"

Glaive clearly did recall the bloody nose she'd once given him after his constant goading, and even more satisfying, his complexion was of the kind that showed even the lightest reddening. "Let's not keep the Queen waiting any longer," He said, turning on his heel and walking into the throne room.

As they entered, the Queen stood along with her council, and as prepared as Obi-Wan was it was still a bit unnerving to see someone else in Amidala's place. Jamillia seemed almost an approximation of Amidala in the traditional makeup and Scar of Remembrance, and something in her air made Obi-Wan sense that she knew others saw her this way. Still she cut a striking figure with her deep black hair crowned with mother-of-pearl and resplendent gown of black, white, and gold. Her voice, even overlayed with the court accent, had a faint trace of the cadence from the southern regions of Naboo. "Greetings, Master Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker. You can imagine our relief at your haste."

Obi-Wan bowed and Anakin followed suit. "Your Highness."

"You have been apprised of some of the facts I trust?" Jamillia said.

Obi-wan inclined his head.

"You may not have been informed that we learned of the attack from a survivor."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows flew up. That detail had not been included in the instructions from the Council.

"He arrived by short-range escape pod yesterday. He informed us that two days ago a large contingent of droids arrived by battle cruiser. They attacked Ohma Dun's central moisture plant. Shortly after, a great sickness swept through the population. It is our belief that a contaminant was spread using the water supply."

The Queen handed Governor Bibble a holobead, which he placed in the projector rising out of the marble floor. A moon appeared, ghostly and blue and slowly rotating. The lights of civilization appeared to be mostly centered on its northern pole. The Queen rose from her throne and gestured toward the top of the 3D image of Ohma Dun. "This is Ohma Dun's largest city. 90% of its water comes from the ice deposits there, and we must assume at this point that all of it has been contaminated. There are only scattered small settlements with small moisture farms of their own. They too must be checked for survivors. We will supply you with their coordinates."

"Has any contact been made?" San Rou asked.

"No," Captain Panaka put in. "But transmissions are being blocked by the battle cruiser."

"May we speak with the survivor?" Obi-Wan asked.

The Queen sighed. "He died last night despite our best efforts."

"Can you describe his symptoms?"

One of the Queen's advisors stood, his uniform marking him as a healer. "Master Kenobi, I attended him myself and I can assure you it was like nothing I've ever seen. Respiratory distress, hypotension, hemorrhaging in the peripheral circulation, particularly in the abdomen area. His symptoms progressed to seizures and coma over a period of about 12 hours, followed by cardiac arrest,"

"The same symptoms we saw in the south," Obi-Wan said grimly, turning back to the Queen.

"Yes," the Queen said, her face all studied impassivity.

"Your Highness, have any precautions been taken in Theed? We have no way of knowing whether or not a ground attack is imminent," Obi-Wan said, watching her closely.

"Security has been raised to its highest levels," she said, meeting his eyes and then looking away. "The water is being tested every hour, and an emergency supply is available. Thus far, the media and the public have not been informed, but we have announced emergency evacuation drills which we can upgrade to real world exercises at a moment's notice. Also, we have a limited number of antidote kits made ready."

"Antidotes?" Obi-Wan said in surprise. "Your highness, based on our observations in the south, the poison is not responding to any known antidote."

The Queen turned on him the steely gaze of someone not used to being questioned. "We have been doing some research of our own with the information Agent Naberrie supplied. Regretfully, we were unable to complete it in time to help the Ohma Dun survivor, but we think we have come up with something that will suffice if the worst was to happen."

"In three days?" Obi-Wan asked disbelievingly.

"It seemed to us that time was of the essence, Master Kenobi," The Queen said icily. "You will of course be issued kits of your own, and some for any survivors you may encounter."

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment as he became aware of the eyes of the other Jedi boring into him. "There will not be any survivors," he said at last.

"Well," Glaive said, giving him a hard look. "If there is nothing else, your highness, we should make our flight plans and gather supplies."

The Queen nodded. "Our thoughts go with you. Know that our pilots are on standby. They can scramble in thirty minutes if they are needed." She stood.

They bowed together. "Thank you, your highness," Glaive said, his eyes not leaving Obi-Wan.

On the way out, he whispered to Obi-Wan. "Your skills as The Negotiator seem to have become rusty."

Obi-Wan did not bother with a reply.

Obi-Wan suppressed a flutter of trepidation as their star cruiser exploded out of the hanger, the graceful shapes of Theed falling below. For once, it had nothing to do with Anakin's flying. They still had no clear idea of what they were walking into, after all. And after the briefing and Sabe's warning, their situation was beginning to seem much more nuanced than Obi-Wan preferred.

They burned through atmosphere before he and Anakin could fully formulate plans B and C. It was all too soon before the dim gray shape of Ohma Dun blocked out the starlight in their view. Almost as quickly they could see a smaller shape jutting from its gently curving side, lit up like a Boonta Eve float.

"A destroyer," Anakin said, turning the ship toward the light asteroid field that passed near Omah Dun's orbit.

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly as they dodged in and out of the craggy, slowly rotating asteroids. He tried not to show it, but Anakin must have expected his displeasure. "Aren't you going to question my approach, Master?" He asked, grinning.

"On the contrary," Obi-Wan said, albeit a little tightly as the ship rolled to avoid a faster moving asteroid that intersected their path, close enough for them to make out way too much detail of its terrain. "You are using the asteroid field as a cover until you can approach the moon from the opposite side and dive into atmosphere. Very subtle, I must say."

"Thank you, Master," Anakin said with genuine pleasure, jerking the ship to the left.

Obi-Wan looked at his smile and reminded himself to compliment Anakin more often. But as always, a caveat. "Of course you know that the entrance into atmosphere has much less room for error this way. One mistake and we will be scattered across Ohma Dun in a most unpleasant fashion."

"Otherwise this flight would be a complete snoozefest," Anakin smirked, pulling out of the asteroid field and pointing their nose directly at Ohma Dun. "Trust in the ship, Master!"

"I trust its pilot more," Obi-Wan said. Their eyes met in shared warmth that was quite rare, and most welcome. Then, checking to see that Glaive's ship was keeping up, Anakin gave the little whoop of a child jumping off something high, and dove into the glowing fog of Omah Dun's atmosphere.

The ship shook with strong vibrations, and purple and orange flame danced over the cockpit from the tremendous friction, lighting Anakin's joyful face with an almost sacred light. Obi-Wan smiled despite himself, for it had been a while since he and Anakin had had a moment like this, brothers shoulder to shoulder to face down the bad guys. It had been almost as long since he had allowed himself to admire and appreciate Anakin's simple joy in flying and in living. Perhaps it had also been a while since Anakin had allowed himself that joy. He found himself wishing it was a longer flight.

But soon enough the friction heat dissipated, and the star cruiser ceased its tumult. Glaive's star cruiser was still close on their right flank. As they glided below the highest clouds and smog cover, Obi-Wan could begin to pick out the faint lights of civilization below. Wisps of smoke floated by as the shadows of individual structures began to resolve themselves. Both Anakin and Obi-Wan sobered as it became apparent that something had gone terribly wrong in the factory-cities below.

Obi-Wan vaguely remembered the trade agreement that had set the guidelines for the Ohma Dun settlement. It had been a smart diplomatic move on Queen Amidala's part to cement the new and fragile accord between the Gungans and the Naboo. But there had never been any intention of settling permanent populations. It was expected that over time the mining activities would make the atmosphere carcinogenic, and so crews composed of mostly Gungans and some Nubians were rotated on and off Omah Dun at three month intervals with a week's detoxing in between. The workers on the job spent time between their shifts in spartan dormitories. It was first and foremost a mining settlement, and there were absolutely no concessions to aesthetic concerns in its structure. All of its buildings were huge beyond imagining, square, and efficient. On an average day its air traffic was heavy around the clock and smokestacks as tall as Nubian Mountains belched thick clouds of black smoke.

Today Obi-Wan saw no air traffic at all. And the lights he saw were not the bright halogens of a normal evening, but the eerie glow of thousands upon thousands of emergency lights from each structure.

"Silent as the grave," Anakin murmured.

Obi-Wan nodded. He activated his headset. "Glaive, we see no signs of life. I suggest we land in a residential area and don Hazmat gear. I see no reason to go in without the clone squadron. They should be here plus or minus 12 hours."

There was a pause. "Well, you can hide out if you like, but I understood we had a job to do, risky as it may be. We see lights and movement around the water treatment plant. We are going to investigate."

"No! Glaive-!" Obi-Wan shouted back, but it was too late. Glaive had already flown past them with a rush of turbulence and was diving toward the plant, easily recognizable by the giant hydrotanks at the rear of the building. "Damn him—! Follow him, Anakin, but at a distance. We've no other choice now."

Anakin smirked as he obeyed, diving in behind Glaive. "No subtlety at all."

For a wonder, Glaive's starcruiser wasn't shot out of the sky. But neither was there any evidence of the lights or activity he'd sworn he'd seen. He seemed determined to make himself as obvious as possible, and landed in the center of a large platform apparently designed for air freighters. Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan's face and put their ship down on the roof of a shorter building nearby without even being asked. As they climbed down from the roof on a fire escape and rounded a corner to the platform, they could already hear Glaive and San Rou's voices.

"With respect Master, what are we doing?"

"Looking for survivors, padawan, as ordered by our mandate."

"But Master Kenobi said—"

"Forget Kenobi! Use your feelings. Even now I sense life signs nearby."

Obi-wan did as well, and as he and Anakin put on respirators and peered out over the landing platform, he soon saw why. A pair of double sliding doors as tall as Theed palace gave a huge clang, and then began to rumble open. In the darkness beyond there was a series of high pitched metal-on-metal squeals. Then they all heard the unmistakable stamp of metallic feet, and a moment later a host of droids poured onto the platform.

But they were not alone. With steps that seemed to shake the ground, a huge humanoid form followed them out onto the platform. He was at least eight feet tall with thick shining alloy plates over his chest, back, and legs, connected by hydraulic lines twisting in his joints. His was the only organic signature, but initially it was difficult to see what organic tissue was left beneath the plating until the baleful glow of his yellow eyes became visible through the slits of his large metal helmet. In his metal hand a pike staff spat and glowed livid, deadly red.

"Durge," Obi-Wan muttered to Anakin.

Anakin cursed lowly.

It was a point of shame with Anakin that he had not been with Obi-Wan the last time he and Durge had met, on the mission in Queyta. Not that it had been his fault. He had been engaged in another battle nearby at the time. But he had seen the bodies of the other four Jedi, and the still form of Obi-Wan who initially also appeared dead. It was the closest Anakin had ever come to experiencing the loss of his master, and Obi-Wan saw that he had not forgotten that or the vigil as Obi-Wan recovered from his wounds.

Obi-Wan sent calming thoughts his way and tried to keep his own in order.

"Master Glaive, I presume," said the grating, metallic, but oddly low pitched voice that Obi-Wan thought he could feel in the marrow of his bones. "I know you by reputation of course."

"You'll know me by heart soon enough," Glaive retorted, throwing himself at the giant. His lightsaber flashed, slashing at Durge's yellow eyes. But Durge was clearly used to this, immediately warding him off with one mighty swing of his pike staff. Light saber met electricity, and the recoil threw Glaive off his feet. He soon jumped back to them, in the readiness stance of Vaapad

"Looks like you are the one making an unfortunate acquaintance, meathead," Durge laughed, shifting himself to swing again.

San Rou met the blow that time, with Glaive leaping like a striking snake in a tag team effort the two had clearly agreed upon through their bond. The movements of Vaapad were almost as evident in San Rou's movements as Glaive's, and without warning the two became whirling dervishes of flashing light raining down on Durge. Obi-Wan could not help but feel a moment of awe. Vaapad was an immeasurably fast, merciless lightsaber style that called far more on the frenzied joy of battle than any other swordplay condoned by the Temple, and it was a wonder to behold.

It would have reduced a lesser opponent to a smoking pile of meat, but Glaive's face turned to disbelief as the onslaught against Durge's armour left only sooty marks and Durge laughing, none the worse for wear. "Keep going, Master. I want you to feel that you are doing well!"

"He's not making a dent," Anakin whispered.

"It's Lutiteum," Obi-Wan growled. "The only alloy I've ever heard of that can deflect a lightsaber. They might as well be swinging candles."

But then something occurred to him. "He does have weak point, however...or may. Masters Fay and Nico Diath managed a duel strike combined with a force push that just pierced his armor...though it did not slow him enough. It looks as if it has been patched, but perhaps if we could find the exact spot..."

Anakin nodded. "We should try the approach from behind and save ourselves some steps, then."

He led the way, in the street around the water treatment plant. Anakin made quick smoking work of a side door, but thankfully Dirge's opponent occupied all of his thoughts and the battle drowned out their noise. Inside they crept among bubbling filtration tanks. Obi-Wan eyed them all, thinking of the Queen's report, but he saw nothing he recognized as out of the ordinary. Until he saw the first bodies...not many at first, but then more and more crumpled forms in the distance, Gungan and human, most in front of computer work systems or control pads. It became more and more clear that theirs and Durge's were the only beating hearts within many miles.

At last they reached the docking area, and through the open door they saw Glaive and San Rou once again thrown back by one of Durge's powerful swings. They were clearly tiring, their movements slowing marginally. But they did not hesitate. Once again Glaive charged, but his time Durge's metal plated forearm caught him full across the face.

Glaive landed heavily on his back a few feet from Durge with blood leaking from an obviously broken nose, the force knocking his lightsaber out of his hand. Durge laughed again. "Well, this has been a stimulating exercise, Master Glaive, but I have business to attend to." He raised his pike staff to skewer him.

But just as the pike staff came down it exploded sparks against a blue light saber inches from Glaive's wide eyes. "Move aside," Obi-Wan shouted at Glaive, his arms trembling from the effort of blocking Durge's massive downswing.

Glaive started and rolled to get out of the way.

"You brought a friend!" Durge rumbled in delight. "And what a friend to have." His yellow eyes narrowed evilly. "How good to meet the Negotiator again. I see you still wear that little souvenir I gave you last time."

Obi-Wan's free hand unconsciously touched the scar on his collar bone. "There will be no negotiating today," he growled, and leapt for Durge.

The pike staff caught the lightsaber blade and also hummed and hissed. Again Obi-Wan's arms trembled from the strain of blocking it. Durge's blows were unbelievably powerful, like a mountain falling with each swing, and Obi-Wan knew he would tire quickly, fighting him one-on-one. Soon Obi-Wan was being driven backward toward the edge of the platform they fought on.

He wasn't particularly stressing it. In fact he was not worried at all as he saw the green blade advance over Dirge's left shoulder. Anakin leapt, landing on Dirge's shoulders with a catlike grace that left the huge warrior spinning.

But the droids had finally got their act together and were firing, very nearly at random. Anakin dove for cover. Obi-Wan force-pushed five droids into five others and charged the rest, blocking blaster fire with his lightsaber. He had to take away his attention from Durge to do so, and he heard Glaive and San Rou collect themselves and again engage him.

Between him and Anakin the twenty droids soon lay in pieces, but it was clear that Glaive and San Rou had their hands full. As he turned, he saw Durge feint, and Glaive charge.

"No!"

Glaive caught the pike staff in his left shoulder. He fell, his arm falling a little distance away with a curtain of blood between.

"Oh Force," Obi-Wan heard San Rou rasp even over Durge's gails of malignant laughter.

"The force be with you, asshole," Durge chortled, and sliced off Glaive's head.

At that moment, Anakin leapt for Durge's back. Rearing back and clinging to his shoulders with his knees alone, Anakin stabbed in his light saber hilt deep. To Obi-Wan's amazement, it worked. Sparks exploded out of it, knocking Anakin to the ground and sending his light saber skittering across the permacrete. Suddenly Durge froze, and a fountain of blue hydraulic fluid spurted from between his shoulder blades. Without the fluid his joints quickly became immobile. He dropped to his knees with an angry roar, but dragged himself with his huge fingers to face Anakin as Anakin attempted to scramble away. He raised a fist, his last mobile limb to crush Anakin's skull like an egg. Again, Anakin's eyes met Obi-Wan's with a nearly audible click, and Obi-Wan tossed his lightsaber to Anakin, who sliced off the descending arm with one swing.

The arm fell to the ground, and so did Durge; alive, but completely paralyzed except for the roll of his great yellow eyes. Anakin dragged himself to his feet, only slightly shaking from the adrenaline.

San Rou sat beside his master's lifeless body. The whites of his eyes shone in the emergency lighting and his breath came in ragged gasps.

"Are you hurt?" Obi-Wan asked him gently, patting him down to look for injury.

"It happened so fast…" San Rou murmured. He dragged a hand over his face, staring around blankly as if just now realizing Obi-Wan and Anakin were there. Obi-Wan realized only then that he couldn't be more than a teenager. Suddenly San Rou vaulted to his feet and ran to the side of the platform, vomiting over the edge.

Obi-Wan looked down at Glaive's body, shaking his head slightly. No matter how much he'd disliked him- He pulled away what remained of Glaive's cloak and laid it gently over his remains. "Force be with you, Master," he murmured.

Then he turned to see Anakin pushing himself up from the pavement. "Anakin-"

"I'm well, Master," Anakin said, wiping just the lightest sheen of sweat from his brow.

"How did you find it?" Obi-Wan asked. "I never expected to hit it with the first swing!"

"Once I got close enough I could sense it. For all the parts they replaced on him, they never quite got rid of the sensation of pain. The old wound hurt him, and I felt it," Anakin shrugged.

Obi-Wan was at a loss for words. He had sensed nothing of the kind. Just when he thought Anakin was out of ways to impress him, to surpass him... He shook his head "Well done, Padawan," He said softly, the diminutive feeling somewhat silly on his tongue just at present.

He was just getting up to check on San Rou when an odd sound came to his ears, like something rolling over gravel. He looked over and realized that it was Durge, laughing and choking through the fluid that was filling his mouth.

"What do you suppose you've accomplished, Jedi?" He croaked, as amused as if he stood with his foot on their throats.

"More than you have, at least." Anakin retorted, swinging his borrowed lightsaber up.

"Anakin, wait—" Obi-Wan began, but was helpless as the lightsaber was buried into one of those glowing yellow eyes.

The dying warrior did not appear to even notice. "You're…here…she's….there," He coughed. "Mission…accomplished."

The eyes rolled back and he said no more.

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Naboo 16:30 CT

Numbly, Sabe answered her com's insistent beep. "Go ahead, Eirtae."

"This is really not my field. If you needed a hacker you should have just said so and I could have found one."

"You are the only one I trust right now."

"I found some more information on the canisters."

Long pause.

"And?"

"It's of Coruscanti make, no doubt of that. The embossed design is not just a picture, it contains thousands of lines of code embedded in the image itself. That's typical of high level munitions companies there, though I can't seem to find a company linked to it. But the alloy it's made of…that's Naboovian. Only Naboovian. And the security mechanism…"

"Go on."

"It has a tiny incendiary device set off by a magnetic field in the doorway of wherever it was originally stored. Meaning if you walked through that door without clearance the container, its contents, and whatever human body parts happened to be near it would be vaporized…I guess I don't need to tell you which organization uses that kind of weapons control."

"No."

"Nor do I need to tell you…Force, Sabe, you know if someone had managed to sneak this much product out of the Royal Arsenal we would have heard about it because there would be an unprecedented lockdown. So they either covered up the theft, or.."

"There was no theft."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find out who is attacking us with weapons we gave them."

"Sabe, I feel like an idiot for saying this, but aren't our loyalties still to Naboo?"

"Absolutely. Which is why we have to bring down the Queen."

For a while after the conversation, Sabe sat, hugging her knees and watching the river. Around her the lives of the Ankura went on, women chattering over the day's wash, children playing and squealing in the high pitched tone that was the universal language of the young. Once Duey had approached, tilting his head to one side in a way that told her he was troubled and confused about her distance and silence. But she could do nothing to explain it to him. There was no warmth in the sunlight, no beauty in the river for her. There she was again, alone and apart. Eirtae was too far away and in too perilous a proximity to the Queen to commiserate long with her. And there was no one else close, no friend who could understand the choices that lay before her. At least not one she could trust any longer.

She knew what she had to do. She just couldn't bring herself to cross the river and do it. The sun was sinking low and red upon the gray brow of the river. The Ankuran village and undoubtedly Rabe's village as well were falling gradually quiet as the inhabitants of each prepared their late day meals and readied themselves for sleep. All so simple. Give them their peace for one more night.

At dusk she walked wordless to the hut Duey and his neighbors had set apart for her, waving away Duey's offer of food at his cooking fire, and fell across the pallet. She slept like one dead, but only for a few hours. In her dreams Qui-Gon reached out to her, but though she saw he spoke, no sound left his lips. After that she struggled within the tightening grip of what seemed to be black serpents, thick and cold, banded around her neck so that her screams were silenced. She twisted, moaned, and then opened her eyes.

Dawn was a distant memory. It was the hour of the nightmares of souls. She could tell as she looked at the deep quality of the darkness beyond the skin flap that covered the door of the hut. It seemed to her that she could still feel the serpents on her skin, and her stomach fluttered as if a thousand jet moths were trapped inside of it. She sat up and pushed her blanket away.

Half in trance she stood and walked out of the hut. Silence lay thick over the little village, though she could feel the buzz of all the sleeping Ankura. She wondered if they were all having nightmares together. It seemed that no one could fail to notice the character of the night. She shivered, and began walking.

She had no knowledge of the way she was going or why. Only that it was south, into the thick jungle that surrounded the village. Soon the barest evidence of light was making it through the canopy, just enough to make out the hulking shapes of ancient trees and roping vines that more than a little resembled the creatures in her dreams. But she was too beyond conscious thought to be much afraid. On and on went her soft steps until the tree line receded and she stood in a small natural clearing.

Suddenly her body went rigid and she tilted her head, her pupils dilating as her eyes struggled to gather more light. It seemed to her that she had heard a shout, a distant male shout. It had sounded like Qui Gon. Wrenched from her dream-like state she was forced to absorb the sounds and smells around her, again the buzz of all the other lives in the trees and in holes under the ground. Slowly as her awareness came back to her she realized that she was hunted.

The cloaked figure emerged from the treeline to her left and slowly lowered its hood.

"Rabe!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Rabe's face was white, immobile, expressionless. She raised the blaster from its hiding place among her skirts, holding it out almost like an offering. But it was pointed at Sabe.

There was a pause as Sabe's heart stopped, then assumed its previous frenetic beat. She stared at the cold metal picking up the faint light. "What are you doing?"

"Get on the ground," Rabe said in the voice of a stranger.

Sabe sank slowly to her knees. "I don't understand," she said. But she did. All too well.

This was the place. Across from them there was a sunken area in the leaf-strewn clearing. The ground had been disturbed there, not too long ago. The soil had been dug up and then replaced inexpertly. It took little imagination to notice its dimensions were sufficient to conceal a good sized adult male. Sabe stared at the spot, swallowing hard. "It was you. You killed him."

That seemed to shake Rabe momentarily from her purpose. "I didn't. But no one will ever, ever believe that."

Sabe raised her eyes to Rabe's, but Rabe looked everywhere but in her face. "We faced death together once."

"That was a long time ago," Rabe said wearily, so wearily. "Perhaps if you'd gone on to have a family you would understand me, the choices I've had to make."

The blaster that had been shaking slightly in her hand became still. "But you couldn't do that, could you Sabe? That kind of connection is beyond you. You always hold yourself apart. You would never sacrifice your precious ideals for love, or children, or-"

"Tell me," Sabe said softly.

"What would you most like to hear?" Rabe said nastily. "That emissaries claiming to be from Theed came ordering us to reopen the spice mines? That they bore the royal crest and carried the seal? That they became increasingly more demanding, making me cut into living Gungans-" Rabe swallowed and her nausea was evident on her face.

"I can help you," Sabe said softly. She stood, and when Rabe didn't move, took one step toward her, and then another. "Did you think I would not defend you?"

"Sabe, the Queen is involved!" Rabe cried, and the blaster came up again. "I don't know how or to what extent, but she knows everything!"

"I know. I've known for days."

The blaster lowered, and Sabe breathed again. "How could you have known?" Rabe asked.

Sabe lifted one shoulder. "Tracings of messages from Veruna to Theed. Links between the palace and Veruna's source materials. But mostly…because I know you. Only when everything you believed in crashed down around you could you resort to this."

Rabe's hands dropped. The blaster fell from her hand to the ground. Her shoulders shook. "I tried, Sabe, I really did. We contacted her for help months ago. We were afraid we would be tried for treason, but we thought it would be better than this. The secrets, the sick fear."

"And?" Sabe pressed.

"She ignored most of our messages. And then, when we threatened to go to the senate she said…" Rabe's voice failed again for a moment. "She said we would not if we valued our children's lives."

"Then the messengers became more and more threatening. They told us where to find the body and how to hide it. But I didn't kill him, Sabe. I swear to the Force."

"I believe you," Sabe said.

Rabe looked her in the eye for the first time. "Your death was only the latest demand."

Sabe nodded. "Me or your family. As with all the others. I understand."

Rabe gestured helplessly. "Where is there to go? What to do?"

"We have to get you and the baby out of here. Rory too. I still have transport. If we left tonight, right now, we could get to Coruscant before anyone knew you were gone."

"NO!" Rabe cried, panicked tears streaming down her cheeks. "She will know! She knows everything; your thoughts, your sins. She will come after us, she promised she would."

"She? Rabe, do you mean the Queen?"

At that moment out of the corner of her eye, Sabe saw a flash of red light. Her eyes could barely follow the slender beam as it toppled through the air, end over end. Then it disappeared and Rabe's eyes went wide and glazed, her mouth slack, as a smoking black hole appeared in the center of her chest.

"NO!" Sabe screamed, catching her as she fell. "Oh Force, Rabe, no!" Their eyes locked, but the life left Rabe's before she even came to rest, the only movement a single additional tear sliding down her cheek.

Sobbing and gasping, Sabe lowered her friend to the ground. There she remained, frozen on her knees as a third figure joined them in the clearing.

. The creature….was it female?…oozed more than walked into the clearing, and Sabe immediately realized that the twisting black snakes from her dream had not been snakes at all, but her sleeping mind's interpretation of the thick black lines tattooed on the creature's bald head. She was over six feet tall, thin and white as a skeleton beneath her dead black cloak, her skin the color and texture of old milk. She smiled, revealing teeth filed to points as she stretched out her bloodless hand. The light saber glided back to it almost gently, as if returning to a lover. "Pity," she said in a serpent's hiss through her teeth, sparing Rabe a cold glance. "She could have kept all of this very simple."

"What are you?" Sabe whispered. She was the child again, immobile in horror.

"They call me Asajj Ventress," the creature replied in a serpent's hiss. "You may call me that too if you like. For as long as we know each other." Her eyes flashed a baleful light just before she sprang toward Sabe, her body in a long arch, twin red light sabers spinning to deadly flowers in the air.

It was clear she intended to kill with one blow, which explained the brief flash of irritation that contorted her already grotesque face to a demon's mask. Sabe dodged, barely, but not fast enough to entirely escape the Sith woman's blades. She was clearly Sith. Or at least aspiring Sith. What little Sabe could read from her was dark, full of rage, its touch as sick and cloying as acid. Sabe gathered herself, gasping, her hand covering the burn on her arm as she tried to press down the pain.

"Interesting," Asajj said, twirling her blades to readiness. "I did not expect to enjoy this. Or to feel anything about it at all. Your were an assignment only, but you are…not what I expected. You dabble in the Force."

Her breath rasping in her throat, Sabe's eyes darted for anything, any kind of weapon, and tripped over Rabe's blaster.

"…But you can never master it," Asajj continued, circling Sabe in a slow, maddening pace that blocked the blaster from view. "You flirt with the dark side but will not embrace it. You…disgust me. Like a presumptuous little ant, you dare to touch the Force in my presence? I can't wait to see the color of your blood."

Asajj took a few more slow steps. And there it was…her opening. Sabe dove, hitting the ground and rolling until she felt her hand resting on the blaster. Her shoulder wrenched, the burn rasped across the pebbled ground, and her fingers went numb. And it was too late. The spot where she fired was now empty. She spun, but only fast enough for the light saber to cleave the blaster in two instead of her body. Unperturbed, the Sith woman began circling again, her circle growing tighter around her prey

"You're playing with me," Sabe gasped.

The creature laughed. "I only want you to feel that you are doing well."

I am going to die.

And with that realization, Sabe's mind went blank and clean, everything passing like the rain over the Naboovian plane. Worries over her own competence, over her own rightness or wrongness or good or evil, her desire to combat the aching loneliness, her loves, her fears, her pains, even her desire to defeat the enemy as it became startlingly apparent that this was impossible. All that was left was how she would conduct the final moments of her life. And with that, this final desire; to die well.

Suddenly she saw the forest with new eyes. A wave of smells and sounds assailed her senses in a wave and she realized that she was anything but alone. She heard the heartbeats of animals, felt their signatures, heard the sound of her opponent's carefully controlled breathing and the low brush of her lashes against her cheek. And the pulse of energy, flowing from the earth up into her feet. With that pulse she became aware of her body, the wonder of it, the perfectly timed beat of her own heart, the filling of her lungs, the slide of skin over muscle and muscle over bone.

"Qui-Gon," she murmured. He was there, but not only him. Everything and everyone. She was not alone. She was never alone.

She was with the Force, and the Force was with her.

She sprang.

For the first and only time in their fight, Asajj was surprised, and Sabe's airborne kick took her in her solar plexus, sending her sailing hard against the trunk of a tree. Her arms flew wide, and her light sabers skittered from each hand. Asajj flipped back into a crouch, hers and Sabe's eyes locking for a second as they both darted for a fallen light saber. The Sith woman got there first. Sabe had time to raise her blade as Asajj's came down in a vicious arc.

Sabe's arm trembled, holding the other blade a mere six inches above her head. Twisting her body violently, she made a kick at Asajj's feet. Asajj jumped to avoid it, breaking the contact momentarily.

Sabe knew no forms, so she did not fight with predictable ones. Her strikes were plain, ugly, efficient. None of the style or cleverness of the Masters, but they were effective at least during the length of Asajj's surprise. For as long as it held…but it wouldn't last long.

Already she could feel the other, stronger Force user gathering herself, and she felt some of her own perception drain away. She refused to acknowledge it fully, clinging to the emptiness of mind that kept that strange foreknowledge flowing in and swinging her hand and the light saber as if they belonged to someone else.

Asajj flipped over her head, and Sabe turned to meet her, and in the instant it took for Asajj's legs to absorb the shock and settle her body back onto the ground, Sabe saw the gap, the tiny space between where Asajj's arm could easily block and her light saber reach in the space of a nanosecond.

She charged for it, and knew the moment she moved that it was a feint.

Asajj was gone. No…not gone. She had just moved faster than the eye could follow. She was now behind Sabe. "This has been quite stimulating, and I thank you for that, but I have a schedule to keep."

Her blade was descending. It was shearing through clothing. Then skin and muscle.

Sabe screamed and fell to the ground, dirt filling her mouth. Then she heard an answering scream. She managed to turn herself over.

Whatever she had been during the fight, it was gone now. She was Sabe again. Dying Sabe, staring at the spectacle of Asajj with a modified power staff in her back wielded by Duey Opadda. He twisted the spitting, snarling electrified blade. But before it could complete its grisly task, before Sabe could shout a warning, it was done. Asajj had turned more swiftly than either of them could see, and impaled Duey on her remaining light saber.

Somehow he still stood, the light saber humming in his chest, his mouth open. Sabe saw an echo of her own realization in his golden eyes.

I am going to die. The burning golden eyes met hers. We are.

Then he pushed himself further into the light saber, and into Asajj, pushing the power staff into her heart with a wet crunch. They fell together.

Sabe lay stunned, coughing, tasting blood and dirt. The long wound along her spine didn't hurt, which was likely worse than if it had. Her legs were rubbery and useless as a kaadu colt's. She couldn't breathe well, and it was getting harder. With the last of her strength, she half dragged herself to Duey's side, pushed Asajj off him, then rolled back on her back wearily. She turned her head to look at him. His eyes were open, his breath panting in and out at the same laborious rate as hers. It was quiet though, and there was no more fear in his eyes than in hers.

"Why did you do that?" She breathed.

"Life debt," he coughed. "Yo life for mesa chile."

"You didn't have a-"

"Was me dat killen him."

"What?" Sabe strained to see his eyes again. They were swimming in her blurred vision, hot and yellow. Two fires. Dimming some now.

"Was me dat killen de old king. Wid dis." Duey touched the power staff. There was no magic to it, though all the time he'd carried it she'd thought it was a regular spear. No Force usage behind it, or even any particular skill to wielding it. It was only a spear that divided when electrified, causing the distinctive double burn on a victim. Sabe saw all this in an instant, and almost felt like laughing at how completely she had been fooled. How strangely, and perfectly, and horribly it had all come together.

"But not alone," Duey continued, voice hoarse. "Dere were dose dat wanted him dead, toll me where to finden him. Sideous von falcos."

"What?"

"He told me dey were da words of his kin. Find dem, you finden him."

"I don't understand, Duey."

His muscles relaxed all at once, his hand sliding off the pike as his eyes rolled to visions she couldn't see. "Bring uss'n justice," He murmured.

"Don't leave me, Duey," she pleaded.

But there was only silence. She rolled her head to the side and saw; though his eyes were still open, the fires were out. She was alone.

She was so alone, and it seemed to her that she was back in the tunnels beneath Coruscant, all the weight of the city and the black pressing inwards toward the throat, the blast doors closed, the air thick. She knew she lay in a forest in the open air, but the feeling was the same, the aloneness, the cold. Always she'd known it was coming for her. Always she'd known that when it arrived for her, there would be no grasping hand nearby, no companion to note her passing. Only that icy forever darkness pouring in on her.

It was so cold.

Her heart fibrillated.

Anakin circled the star cruiser over the forest. "We're close."

"Are you sure? We are far from the village," Obi-Wan said, scanning the trees below for signs of anything out of the ordinary.

"I know. I feel it." Anakin said.

After the battle they'd finished only hours before, it was pretty hard to argue with the strength of Anakin's senses. But Obi-Wan could see nothing. "Why would she be out here? Why would anyone?"

"Maybe something happened. Maybe they fled the village. Or were lured away. All I know is, Duey Opadda and Sabe are out here," Anakin insisted. He hesitated, then steered the ship 30 degrees to the left. "Or more specifically, there." He said.

Obi-Wan saw a break in the tree line. And there was a light. Red and undulating. It was the only light for miles except for the stars. As Anakin set the star cruiser down he could see more detail. The unsteady light was the blade of a weapon, and it was the only thing illuminating the circle of bodies. At that rational thought fled, and all he could think was…

Too late

He jumped from the cruiser the second Anakin managed to land it and raced to where Sabe lay in the clearing. A quick survey couldn't tell him what had happened here. It seemed there were bodies everywhere, at least one of them Sith. And there were lightsaber wounds, smoking and stinking. He had smelled it before. He should have known, should have seen…

He lifted Sabe in his arms, put his ear to her chest. Felt her cold hands, saw her blue lips. His hands came away from where they supported her back , and they were stained dark. She wasn't breathing.

No no no no.

Anakin started as Obi-Wan pressed his lips to Sabe's, breathing into her mouth. With a hand to her chest, he felt and understood the sense of pressure there. Reaching into his pouch, he extracted a rudimentary medical kit, retrieving a large needle and stabbing it into her upper chest. Air rushed from the open end of the needle from her collapsed lung.

But there was still no sign of life. Blood could have replaced air in her chest wall, and if that was the case nothing in his kit would save her. Desperate, he gave a gentle but focused push with the Force, attempting to coerce the still heart into beating again. It was a last ditch effort. He had no idea how to tap into the power Sabe had used on the Ankuran child. He could not keep people from dying.

Sabe's head rolled back, her hair spilling over his arm.

He had failed her. He had let his need to protect her overtake his reason and his duty, and still, when she had needed him the most he'd failed her.

He felt Anakin frozen behind him, unsure what to do. Always Anakin's eyes, watching his every move, trying in his way to follow him, believing him, now about to witness his utter fall. He had no lesson left to give, no wisdom to impart but the utter meaningless that had transpired here, the meaningless of every moment of their lives. And all of that was about to come out in the howl that was already gathering itself in his throat-

Sabe coughed.

The sharp but small sound made him jerk up his head, cradling her face with his hands. She took a long, slow and very pained breath and her lashes fluttered. Her eyes opened. There was confusion at first, but then her eyes focused on his face, and it even seemed she attempted a smile.

"I'm here," He said, stroking her cheek with shaking fingers. "Sabe, I'm here."

She murmured something, but it was too quiet to hear. He bent until his ear was nearly touching her mouth. "He said you would be," she was whispering. "Qui-Gon said you would come."

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Queen_Luvie, iivyvine, ThiaKenobi, Msmarvelfreak, Ladystardust17, Thorn_Wraith, the_dansing_queen, lexuamclaughlin, LVbooknerd, regin, KCs_Imagination, Dinuit, NotTheRealGoose, Yellow_Faerie, Suzume_Suzuki, CrazyOfTheShippers, and MianaK3791 as well as 15 guests left kudos on this work!

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 4 Mon 21 Nov 2022 07:24AM UTC

Glad to see you and this story back!

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 5 Tue 02 May 2023 03:26PM UTC

Oh yay this is back!
Oh Ventress. I love her so much.

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Fleur (Guest) on Chapter 5 Mon 02 Oct 2023 03:20AM UTC

Exciting to see this older version of Sabe and Obi wan interacting! Hopeful the next chapter is coming soon :)

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 6 Sun 08 Sep 2024 02:31PM UTC

Ooooh Asajj AND Durge???
Glad to see this is continuing!

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 9 Wed 20 Nov 2024 06:22AM UTC

All the heart eye emojis on this chapter.

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ThiaKenobi on Chapter 9 Tue 24 Dec 2024 08:18AM UTC

Finally ! They kissed ! I hope he don't mess up and let her go. Anakin needs to tease him about it. I hope to read another chapter again :)

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 11 Tue 06 May 2025 06:43AM UTC

The grin I let out at seeing Durge.
Very happy and excited to see this return!

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 12 Mon 19 May 2025 03:17PM UTC

Aww Duey. 🥲

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The Grey Divide

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Chapter 6: Chapter 6

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Chapter 8: Chapter 8

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Chapter 9: Chapter 9

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Chapter 10: Chapter 10

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Chapter 11: Chapter 11

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Chapter 12: Chapter 12

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 4 Mon 21 Nov 2022 07:24AM UTC

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 5 Tue 02 May 2023 03:26PM UTC

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Fleur (Guest) on Chapter 5 Mon 02 Oct 2023 03:20AM UTC

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 6 Sun 08 Sep 2024 02:31PM UTC

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 9 Wed 20 Nov 2024 06:22AM UTC

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ThiaKenobi on Chapter 9 Tue 24 Dec 2024 08:18AM UTC

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 11 Tue 06 May 2025 06:43AM UTC

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MianaK3791 on Chapter 12 Mon 19 May 2025 03:17PM UTC

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