Master Apprentice Archive Quick search:

Rating: PG-13 for action violence and a little swearing

Summary: Padme and Jar Jar head to Coruscant for a special conference on cloning, where they grab some R&R with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Bail, before getting kidnapped by bounty hunters and everything going downhill from there.

Category: Obi/Bail, Ani/Padme, Jar Jar/?, humor, action, drama, angst, and romance, all rolled up into one!

Archive: Yes, M-A and http://www.wyomingnot.com/rita/rita.html

Timeline: approximately five years before Ep2

Disclaimer: I am just a Jedi Padawan. I own nothing. All that I have belongs to my Master George: my money, my action figures, my dreams and fantasies. In return he gives me wisdom, many lessons in patience and humility, and the best galaxy in the universe to play in. All hail Master George!

Author's Note: This is actually the first prequel story I wrote, way back in 2000. While this story fits into my larger series, by now it is somewhat inconsistent with the other stories, particularly in the status of Obi-Wan and Bail's relationship. However, I'm sure you all will cut me the same slack as you do Master George when it comes to letting the muse lead us in new directions!

Apologia: My writing has really improved since I wrote this story. So you will find that the tempo of this story is uneven, the plot weak, and so on. Also, since it was written before AOTC came out, it is not canon anymore. Despite its numerous flaws, I still am fond of this story as it was the first one I wrote with these characters, and the one in which Bail made his grand debut. I hope you will enjoy it, too.

Feedback: On or off list, positive or negative, etc, etc.

Story order:
Perhaps
Maybe
Falling
Back for Seconds - Obi-Wan and Bail
Bailing Bail
Padawan Games
Greener Pastures
Forgiven
Reality Check
Better Than Destiny
A Cross-Cultural Affair
Deconstruction
Reconstruction
Rewoven
Night Visitor
Father Figure
A Model Padawan
Not All Dreams Are Visions
You Don't Bring Me Flowers
Dangerous Fame
Labyrinth <-- You are here
Private Lessons (off-site link)
Owner's Mark
Epicenter
Duty
Penumbra
Nightfall
Batter My Heart

Chapter One

The sleek, chrome ship emerged from hyperspace and entered orbit around the city-planet of Coruscant, waiting for their escort to arrive and lead them down to the planet's surface. Standing at the observation deck, Padme Amidala, Queen of the Naboo, surveyed the glittering lights of the planet's surface below them. She touched a point on her chest, feeling through the silk of her gown the pendant which hung concealed around her neck, and she remembered the last time she had been to Coruscant, the only time she had been to Coruscant, almost five years ago. She had just been elected Queen when she had to face the greatest trial in Naboo's recent history, their conquest by the Trade Federation. She had gone to Coruscant to beg for help. She smiled as she remembered herself then, so young, so nervous, so frightened, so overwhelmed by the crisis facing Naboo, and yet strengthened by a sense of destiny and responsibility far greater than herself. While the Naboo respected the wisdom and experience of age, they valued equally highly the purity and idealism of youth. That was why they frequently chose young people as their highest leaders, young people who embodied the purist essence of Naboo, who could call upon the Naboo to be their best. It was a symbolic power, but symbols could have tremendous meaning. Padme, with her passionate zeal to stand against the Trade Federation, had successfully led her people in revolt and even forged an alliance with the Gungans. But she had not saved her people alone. Again she touched the pendant hidden beneath her gown and wondered what had happened to the strange little boy who had given it to her.

Behind her, the door to the observation deck swished open, and she heard the lanky gait of her friend and aide Jar Jar Binks as he came up to stand at her side. Like Padme, he had left his homeworld only once before in his whole life. But if he was nervous, he didn't show it. Padme had learned that on the whole Jar Jar did not like new experiences, although he adapted quickly enough once they were thrust upon him. But then, Coruscant would not be new.

For several minutes they stood in silence, watching the planet's surface grow larger and brighter as their escort guided them through the thick air traffic. They crossed the shadow line into Coruscant night side, and Jar Jar murmured an appreciative, "Pretty." Padme did not agree, remembering the scarcity of natural landscape and the enormous buildings lacking in the Naboo concept of grace and beauty. But then she supposed the lights did resemble Otoh Gunga in a way, sparkling through the murky darkness. Perhaps that's why Jar Jar liked it.

"Maybe wesa see Ani," Jar Jar suggested unexpectedly.

Padme was surprised to hear his thoughts so closely echoing her own, although she shouldn't have been. "I doubt it," she replied with a hint of regret. "Coruscant is a big planet, and you and I are going to be very busy"

"Da bigtalk," Jar Jar nodded sagely, although he had only a vague understanding of what the conference was about. He certainly didn't understand the intricate science of cloning, or why Gungan organic technology was now so highly coveted. Nevertheless he accompanied Padme on this mission in his capacity as official ambassador to the Naboo and representative of the Gungans. Padme suspected that the Bosses' choice of Jar Jar as their liaison had as much to do with their desire to get him out of their way as a concern for their relations with the Naboo, but if the Naboo valued youth, in the same way Padme valued Jar Jar. He might not be much of a strategist, but his simple observations, even on situations and issues he knew nothing about, had given Padme valuable insight on more than one occasion.

"But maybe before that," Jar Jar offered. "We do have time, methinks."

"You can look for him if you want to, Jar Jar, but I want to meet with Bail Organa."

Jar Jar's eyestalks contracted as he scoured his memory. "Da Grand Boss from Alderooni," he finally announced. "Maybe mesa should talk to him, too, eh?" he asked, although his tone betrayed his desire to look up Anakin Skywalker instead.

"No, that's not necessary," Padme assured him. "I have heard many great things about the Prince, and I simply want to have the chance to get to know him before the conference." She had not told Jar Jar yet about her own private agenda for Coruscant. She would soon have to make some very important decisions about her future, and while she eventually wanted Jar Jar's advice, she wanted to talk with Bail Organa first.

The intercom chimed and a voice announced, "We will be landing in five minutes, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Captain." She turned to Jar Jar. "Let's get ready, then, shall we?"

Their arrival was unmarked by pomp or circumstance, and Padme breathed a secret sigh of relief that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was not there to greet them. Either he had not learned of their early arrival, or less likely, had chosen not to come. Padme hoped that he was still not expecting them until the beginning of the conference. She did not want him to know she would be meeting with Bail Organa, since he was one of Palpatine's most vocal critics in the Senate. For that reason also she had decided to be housed in the Conference Complex itself and not at the Naboo Embassy. With luck, she would be undisturbed for the next few days.

Once at the complex, her handmaidens fussed around her, getting her settled into her apartments. She changed out of her traveling gown into a simpler but no less formal outfit, and touched up her ceremonial makeup before her meeting with Prince Bail. The Naboo had a very formal sensibility when it came to clothing, and despite the personal nature of her business with Organa, Padme felt she had to make a suitable appearance before the Prince and Senator of Alderaan. So she dismissed her attendants, and having sent a message on ahead, walked alone to Bail Organa's apartments.

Despite being unattended herself, Padme was surprised that Bail Organa himself open the door to greet her. "Welcome, welcome," he proclaimed in a soft but warm voice. "Do come in make yourself comfortable. I trust you had a pleasant journey?"

"Yes, I did, thank you," she replied as she seated herself in an offered chair. The furniture of the room was the same as hers, but elegantly brocaded fabrics had been draped across the chairs and sofa, and several small but tasteful pieces of art decorated the room.

Organa sat down across from her and called, "Charris, some refreshments for my guest, please."

An old attendant entered, bearing a tray of fruit and some beverages which he placed on the table between them before discretely returning to his post in the other room, leaving them alone.

"These are some of our Alderaani fruits I thought you might enjoy," Organa said as he prepared plate for her. As they exchanged pleasantries, Padme formed her initial impression of her host. He was wearing an expensive but casual robe. His black hair tumbled over his forehead in thick curls. He had a rather aquiline nose, and his black eyes were half-closed, as if had just woken up from a nap, an impression further heightened by the soft, mellow tones of his voice, and his casual way of reclining back across the couch. Padme supposed he was goodlooking enough, although she didn't find them to be the dazzlingly handsome man he was reputed to be. In fact, Bail Organa had a larger than life reputation for just about everything, from his wise leadership and shrewd skills of negotiation, to a somewhat notorious reputation as a playboy with a penchant for fine clothes, extravagant parties, and handsome men and women. So far his clothes and manner, though elegant enough, confirmed the latter impression in Padme's mind rather than the former, but she suppressed judgment until she got to know him better.

"I have long look forward to meeting you," Bail was saying as he leaned back on the couch. "I have heard so much about the formidable young queen of Naboo, and I'm pleased you were willing to come early so we would have a chance to get to know one another."

This surprised Padme. The Naboo were known to keep pretty much to themselves. When and why would Bail Organa ever have heard her, other than in the context of the coming conference? "I am flattered," she answered diplomatically. "I have also heard much about you and am eager to exchange ideas with you."

"Most we discuss cloning so soon?" Bail replied in a manner entirely to flippant for Padme. After all, this man was supposedly one of the galactic experts on the issue.

"Actually, I am also very interested in your views of the current government."

Her words were mildly phrased, but their import was not lost on Bail. While his expression remained unchanged, his voice grew more sober when he observed, "Your former Senator has many admirers these days. I'm afraid I do not share their enthusiasm."

Padme considered the statement for several minutes before adding, "Nor, indeed, do I."

Bail's sleepy eyes woke up slightly. "But Naboo has done well since Palpatine became Supreme Chancellor."

"Yes," she agreed in the tone that said otherwise, "so it would appear."

Leading forward, she continued, "I wish to discuss these matters frankly with you, Your Highness, and I trust that our conversations will remain strictly confidential." She paused, and Bail nodded. He was also widely reputed to be honest and trustworthy, so Padme continued, "Chancellor Palpatine has indeed done well by Naboo, and we are enjoying great prosperity and peace. This treaty on cloning would bring us tremendous wealth, but I fear it comes at a price." Her eyes clouded. "And I worry about the price he expects the Republic to pay for his leadership as well."

Bail had certainly not expected Padme to speak this way about her fellow countrymen, and he looked at his guest with rising respect. "It seems that we will have a great deal to talk about after all."

Padme nodded, but said nothing. She had carried these thoughts in her heart for a long time, sharing them with no one in light of Palpatine's popularity on Naboo, and she now found it hard to put her hidden concerns into words. "I first began to notice it during the invasion of the Trade Federation, though at the time I was too concerned about my people's fate to worry myself with Palpatine's tactics. But when I had time to reflect on it, I grew troubled with the way Chancellor Valorum had been overthrow, and the role I played in it. We Naboo are a people of peace. We always prefer to talk things out, though sometimes we're too fond of talk at the expense of action. But to call for a vote of no confidence like that.... I would have never done it if the situation on Naboo had not been so desperate, and I suppose even in retrospect I would still have done the same. Nevertheless I came to feel I had been manipulated into an action that was contrary to the way we do things on Naboo. It seems that Palpatine is often bringing about changes on Naboo, rushing issues through consensus, even calling for a vote. Of course he is not directly concerned with government issues on Naboo anymore, but he weighs in with his opinion, and many people, perhaps out of respect for the Supreme Chancellor, go along with his suggestions. It's true his methods get results, but at the expense not only of our traditional form of government, but also I fear at the expense of civic harmony."

Despite the gravity of her concerns, Bail had to suppress a smile at her flowery and formal words. Had he ever been so serious when he was her age? He doubted it. That was the trouble with young leaders: responsibility bred in them too sober an ego for his tastes. He, on the other hand, had been raised for the job and he knew how to exercise leadership without all this self-importance. He would have to work on her.

Dismissing this irrelevant train of thought, Bail answered her, "I'm not aware of all the details on Naboo, but what you have described sounds similar to what I have observed in the Senate. Palpatine seems far more concerned with results than methods. True, our methods have gotten a bit out of hand lately. We are over-bureaucratized, for one thing. But people are so eager for results in stamping out corruption that they fail to see the dangerous precedents being set, especially when it comes to stifling dissension. Yet when I voice my concerns, I'm called a worrier and old-fashioned." Bail smiled. "My mother can't believe it's me they are talking about. She says I've never worried about anything in my life."

Steering their conversation away from such personal waters, Padme said, "Your experience in the Senate leads me to the matter I really want discuss with you. My term of office ends next year, and I had been encouraged to run again. But Palpatine worries me, and I begin to wonder if I would not serve my people better if I leave them to serve in the Senate."

Bail grinned broadly. Her formality aside, he was beginning to really like her. "To keep an eye on Palpatine?" he intimated.

Padme would not put it that way, but she conceded, "Yes, I suppose so."

"Your Highness, I think I would enjoy having you as a colleague in the Senate," Bail smiled, delighted. "Think of the trouble we could stir up! This cloning conference should give us a chance to see how we would work as a team."

Padme frowned at how quickly her would-be colleague jumped to conclusions. "I have made no decision yet," she warned.

"Of course not. But there is plenty of time for that. I shall enjoy discussing these matters with you, but I hope you'll also allow time for more leisurely pursuits. Some old friends of yours will also be attending the conference, and I invited them early expressly so that we can all have some time together."

"Who?"

"You'll see, you'll see. We will discuss business tonight, and tomorrow morning if you wish, but the afternoon and evening must be given over to recreation. You'll leave aside your royal regalia, I hope." Padme chafed being told what to wear. "And the Gungan Ambassador will come, too?"

"If you insist," she answered. Bail Organa couldn't possibly know Anakin, could he? She could think of no other "old friend" she had on Coruscant. But perhaps he meant some other head of state or business contact she had met before over the cloning issue. She refused to go along with the secretive game Bail seemed intent on playing, so she did not ask further who he meant.

"Very good," Bail declared, settling back on the couch with a dazzling smile. She could at last see what he was described as charming, although she had no interest in succumbing to him.

But his mind had returned to their earlier discussion. "So tell me more, Your Highness, about why you distrust the Supreme Chancellor," he said amicably, pausing to sip his drink. "And what you plan to do about it."

Chapter Two

"I wonder if she still remembers me?" Anakin mused as he and Obi-Wan road to the Conference Complex the next day. He was bouncing his right leg nervously, and despite years of training in patience, Obi- Wan struggled to resist the urge to grab Anakin's leg and hold it still.

"I doubt she could forget you," he observed in reproof.

Anakin wiped his palms on his pants legs, a gesture which did not stop his leg from bouncing. "I don't know," he fretted. "I was just a little kid then."

Obi-Wan turned his face to the speeder's window in order to hide his smile, amused that Anakin, usually brimming with self-confidence, was so uncertain. Anakin was generally very open about his feelings, but he held some subjects, and people, close to his heart. He almost never spoke of his mother to Obi-Wan, and he certainly never talked about Amidala. But Obi-Wan long suspected he secretly carried a torch for the young Queen, or rather the "handmaiden" he had met on Tatooine. The boy's current nervousness was all the confirmation Obi- Wan could need. He only hoped Anakin would not be disappointed in the reunion.

Obi-Wan was glad Bail had arranged this gathering before the conference. Anakin was going to be bored by all the talk, but a few days with Amidala and Jar Jar would hopefully give him enough excitement to make it through the conference, as well as distract him enough to give Obi-Wan some time with Bail.

They arrived at the complex and settled the few things they had brought in their assigned rooms. They could have commuted from the Jedi Temple every day, but Anakin and even Obi-Wan relished opportunities to leave the Temple, besides the fact that they were both looking forward to the company. In their eager anticipation of the reunion, they did little more than throw their bags into the rooms before setting off for Bail's apartments.

As soon as they were admitted, Obi-Wan saw that the suite had been redecorated in typical Bail Organa fashion. The Prince hated the impersonal style of multiple-user buildings, especially bureaucratic ones like the Conference Complex, and wherever he went he always brought along a few things to make the place suitable to his tastes. He'd even finally succeeded in persuading Obi-Wan to add a tapestry and a small rug or two to his own apartment in the Jedi Temple. Raised as he had been with the austere tastes of the Jedi, Obi-Wan had nevertheless grown to appreciate Bail's creature comforts.

Hardly had the door been opened to them when Anakin burst out, "Are they here yet?"

Bail laughed. "I'm afraid you've beaten them, but they'll be here any minute." He greeted Obi-Wan with a kiss on each cheek before extending his hand Anakin for a perfunctory shake. Anakin would never submit to the traditional Alderaani form of greeting, and Bail accepted this in good spirits. He knew Anakin didn't like him, although he was mistaken in his assumption why. In fact, Anakin resented Bail because of the effect he had on his master. The only time Anakin ever saw Obi-Wan completely relaxed and comfortable was in Bail Organa's presence. Although padawan and master were extremely close, Anakin had to work hard to elicit a smile from Obi-Wan, so he resented the fact that his master handed them out so freely to Bail.

This resentment aside, Bail Organa was the classiest person Anakin knew, and in his effort to erase all traces of his former life as a slave, Anakin had undertaken to learn all he could about taste, art, and the finer things in life from the Prince. So as Obi-Wan relaxed in a chair, Anakin surveyed the room with a critical eye. "Malvingian tapestries," he announced, taking in the draperies, "and that vase is from Heladi Prime. Antique?"

"Yes," Bail conceded. "But not too antique. My parents would kill me if I broke it, even though they weren't the ones to pay for it. How did you know it was antique?"

"There's so much red in it," Anakin answered with authority. "It's the fashion nowadays to use blue."

"Very good. So that means it must be at least how old?"

Anakin's brow furrowed. "I don't know."

"At least 150, ever since their trade agreement with Heladi III and they were able to get their hands on Heladi III's beautiful lapis lazuli," Bail informed him. "That vase is barely an antique, really, only about 200 years old."

Anakin carefully stored this information in his brain. He could have an amazingly accurate memory for such details, though Obi-Wan could not understand why. His padawan quizzed Bail on some of the other pieces in the room while Obi-Wan struggled not to yawn in boredom.

The art lesson was interrupted by the buzzing of the door chime. Anakin jumped in anticipation but fortunately had the presence of mind not to drop the statuette he'd been holding. While Bail went to the door, Anakin struggled to decide whether he should sit, going for the casual approach, or remain standing more formally. He had just decided to sit down when Obi-Wan stood up. Anakin tottered a moment before righting himself, standing awkwardly at Obi-Wan's side.

Padme, however, accustomed as she was to diplomacy and dealing coolly with all kinds of difficult meetings, felt no discomfort in anticipation of this meeting, while Jar Jar had little interest in who Bail's mystery guests might be since his efforts to track down Anakin at the Jedi Temple had proven futile. No one at the Temple knew who "Ani" was, and Jar Jar had forgotten Anakin's full name.

"Welcome, welcome!" Bail greeted them effusively when he opened the door. He kissed Padme on both cheeks and was about to do the same to Jar Jar, except he wasn't sure where exactly where the Gungan's cheeks were. "Your friends are already here and eager to see you again."

He stepped aside, and Padme recognized Obi-Wan easily enough. He had let his hair grow longer, reaching just past his ears, but other than that, he had scarcely changed since she saw him last. But the young man standing next to him, wearing a sour expression as if he suffered from acute indigestion.... Could it possibly be --?

"Ani!" Jar Jar cried jubilantly, his arms thrown wide as he leapt across the room to greet his old friend.

"Jar Jar!" Anakin returned, throwing himself wholeheartedly into the Gungan's embrace. He had almost forgotten Jar Jar was coming too, but he was nevertheless elated to see him again, and greeting him was certainly easier than facing the Queen.

While Anakin was being pounded by Jar Jar, Padme exchanged greetings with Obi-Wan, though her attention was focused as discreetly as possible on Anakin. She would never have recognized him as the curious little boy she'd met in Watto's shop. He stood almost as tall as Obi-Wan, and had clearly not reached his full height yet. Baby fat had been replaced by adolescent lankiness, but his shoulders were beginning to broaden, and she could tell that beneath his finely cut and stylish black and red tunic he was well built and toned. All that Jedi training, no doubt. His hair had darkened, no longer bleached by Tatooine's twin suns, and it was cut close as Obi-Wan's had been. His padawan braid reached well past his shoulder, a testimony to how long it had been since she had last seen him. Only when she dared to look fully into his blue eyes did she at last recognize the boy she had known.

"Hello, Ani," she said, her voice steady.

As accustomed as Padme was to making a grand appearance as Queen of Naboo, she had no idea what a devastating impact her entrance had had on Anakin. She been almost full grown when she'd met Anakin five years ago, and she had gained barely an inch in height since then. But if Anakin was still a lanky adolescent, Padme had now grown into all the curves of womanhood, and her face glowed with youthful health. If she had first walked into Anakin's life like an angel from Iego, she now floated back into it like a goddess from Lugomer, whose footsteps caused flowers to spring forth from the desert, and whose bright eyes gave the sun its luster.

Anakin blushed deeply in the face of such loveliness. Obi-Wan cleared his throat pointedly, and Anakin at last realized he was staring. "Hello, Ami--," he paused, unsure how to address her. "Your --, uh..."

"You may call me Padme in private," she offered with what she thought was a gentle smile, but which struck Anakin like a thunderbolt. "It's my real name, anyway. Amidala is my royal name."

Anakin sighed dreamily. "You can call me Ani," he answered, completely unaware that she already had. He had shed that nickname when he left Tatooine.

She smiled again, and Anakin lost the ability to breathe.

Amused by his padawan's shell-shocked state, Obi-Wan shot Bail a saucy glance, then said to Padme, "It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Majesty, and we're looking forward to the conference as well."

"The pleasure is mine," Padme returned. She did not, Anakin noted with pleasure, encourage Obi-Wan to call her "Padme."

"And it's good to see you as well, Jar Jar," Obi-Wan continued. He seemed to have forgotten he had ever once called the Gungan a pathetic lifeform.

"Oh, Obi, muy muy mesa happy to see yousa!" Jar Jar effused, throwing his arms around the Jedi, who endured the embrace with dignity.

"Now we are all we reaquainted," Bail beamed, feeling himself to be the author of all this happiness, "and I absolutely forbid any discussion of clones, politics, economics, or any other serious subject for the next 20 hours. Instead we will enjoy ourselves in the company of good friends. Anakin," and here he threw the boy a conspiratorially wink which normally would have irritated the young padawan, "it shall be up to you and me to ensure that these two sober people never refer to business."

For once, Anakin was happy to oblige.

Ever the master of ceremonies, Bail had made all the arrangements for the day. Since Padme and Jar Jar had only been to Coruscant once, he had planned a tour of some of the major sights, choosing with care places that would be interesting, but which would also prove not to be so distracting as to prevent conversation. Parks and monuments that the bill perfectly, requiring attention only at first, and afterwards enjoyed best in the company of friends.

Their party quickly split into two groups, with Bail and Obi-Wan in the lead, looking back occasionally to make sure the others were still with them. The younger three hung together. Initially Anakin and Padme were a little shy with each other, but Jar Jar's natural garrulousness broke the ice, and all three were soon chattering away, remembering old times and recounting exploits from the intervening years. Anakin found his attention divided between Jar Jar and Padme, which was not an easy place to be considering how different the two were, quite apart from how different Anakin's interest in each was. He had all kinds of wild stories to tell Jar Jar, but he was not sure Padme would find them equally diverting. Likewise he wanted to impress Padme with his hard won education and class, especially some of the more choice bits he had picked up from Bail -- guaranteed, he felt, to impress royalty, but of less interest to a Gungan. He walked between the two of them, feeling sometimes as if he were literally talking out of both sides of his mouth at once.

Obi-Wan was well aware of his padawan's dilemma, and after an hour or two he and Bail let the others catch up, whereupon he seamlessly snagged Jar Jar into conversation, leaving Anakin and Padme to fall behind on their own.

At first they recovered some of their initial awkwardness without Jar Jar to help things along. They were walking by a small lake and a park, and for a while they watched the people boating or playing near the water. Eventually, Padme remarked, "I didn't know Coruscant had nice places like this."

"Yeah, it's not so bad when you get to know it," Anakin agreed.

She glanced at him. "Do you ever miss Tatooine?"

"Never!" he spat with an intensity that startled her. For an instant his face contorted with anger, but he quickly recovered his composure, though it required some effort.

Padme was tempted to drop the subject entirely, but she felt again that strange bond she'd shared with Anakin when they first met, and she plucked up the courage to say, "I can't imagine how hard is for you to be apart from your mother." He said nothing, but some of the tension in his face eased, as if he were grateful she had noticed. She continued, carefully, "How is she?"

Anakin looked away, and she sensed his unease. "I don't know," he confessed. "I never hear from her."

They walked on in silence, Padme waiting patiently for him to say what he had never shared with anyone before. Eventually, he continued, "I tried several times to write to her, but I didn't know what to say. 'Hi, Mom, I'm having a ball; sorry you're still a slave'? Every time I think of her stuck there...." He balled his fists at his sides as impotent rage overcame him. He let its familiar heat wash through him, using Jedi calming techniques not to help him rise above it but to force it deep down inside him.

"I'm learning, though," he said, his voice steadier and filled with resolution. "Every day I'm learning more so that someday I'll go back and get her out."

"I know you will." They were not empty words; she believed it. "She is a very special person, and I admire her courage. I know she's very proud of you."

Anakin felt tears rising within him, but he forced them down, too, feeding them to the ravenous beast that lived in his heart and swallowed all his dark thoughts. To change the subject, he asked, "How is your family?"

Following up on his lead, Padme said, "They're fine. They don't live in Theed, but I see them often enough. You should come to Naboo sometime and visit their farm. You would like it." Padme never invited anyone to her family's farm, not even her handmaidens, but it seemed natural to invite Anakin. A thought occurred to her. "Are Jedi allowed vacations?"

"Ha!" Anakin snorted, some of his good humor returning. "Not often enough! We almost always go to Alderaan. The Prince has some great speeder bikes and skyhoppers. He lets me take them out and race them. Obi-Wan usually doesn't let me do that on Coruscant, but on Alderaan he doesn't mind. Sometimes he and the Prince come with me. They're both good pilots, but nowhere near as good as me." He couldn't help boasting. After all, it was true.

"Well, I don't know that Naboo is much good for racing, but you are always welcome to come. Obi-Wan, too, of course."

Anakin brightened at the invitation. "I'll tear him away from Alderaan for once. Or better yet, he can go to Alderaan by himself, and I'll come to Naboo! We don't always have to go everywhere together." He smiled. "You know, whenever we would go out on a mission undercover, people always used to think he was my father. But I'm getting tall enough they're going to think we're brothers."

In fact, now that he'd mentioned it, Padme realized he even sounded like Obi-Wan. He periodically mimicked his master's accent, but it came and went, mostly manifesting when Anakin wanted to sound important or worldly. She could see how people might think he and Obi- Wan were related, but it made her wonder about his real father. Curious, she asked, "What happened to your father?"

"I never had one," Anakin said easily. Some people might find such a statement shameful, but slaves knew well in the heartache of broken families. Some didn't know where they had come from, while others had been sold into slavery by their own parents. For Anakin to have no father did not strike him as at all unusual or worthy of sympathy, and since he was so unconcerned, Padme likewise dropped the subject.

They again fell silent, and Anakin found the topic of family leading him to an issue of more immediate concern. Plucking up his courage, he asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Padme laughed. "Of course not!"

This news encouraged Anakin, and he grew bolder. "Why not? I would think thousands of guys must be in love with you."

"Maybe," she smiled coyly. "But I don't have time for that kind of thing."

"If I lived on Naboo, I'd make sure you had time," Anakin asserted.

She laughed again. This was more like the boy she knew on Tatooine! "You probably would! Too bad you're too young for me."

But Anakin was not deterred. "I won't be this young forever."

"No, you won't," she relented, but he was still too young for her to see any harm in their flirting. "Who knows what will happen in a few years?" She cocked her head at him. "But what about you? Do you have any girlfriends?"

"No way!"

"Aren't there thousands of girls in love with you?" she teased.

"Yeah," he replied matter-of-factly. "But I'm not interested in any of them."

"Why not?"

"Because I know exactly the girl for me." He gazed at her frankly, but without any expectation of reply.

Padme hesitated. He really was going too far, but he was merely stating what he felt, and she had asked the question. She tried to take the higher ground by saying magnanimously, "I wish I was as sure of myself as you are."

"You will be," Anakin assured her, "when your mind is made up."

In the face of such confidence, it was Padme who was left feeling like a child.

Suddenly Anakin glanced forward to where the others had gone ahead, his expression concerned. Padme followed his gaze and saw that a crowd had assembled around Obi-Wan, Bail, and Jar Jar. Without a word, the two of them rushed to catch up.

Several people in the crowd were arguing heatedly, pointing accusing fingers at Bail and haranguing him. Obi-Wan stood by, poised for action if the need arose.

"You of all people should know better!" one of the troublemakers accused the Prince. "I thought Alderaan stood for truth!"

"We strive to," Bail answered mildly. "But not everyone agrees on what truth is."

Another youth came forward. In fact, most of the crowd was young, not much older than Padme, and she guessed they were all university students. "Well, one thing is certain, the truth can't be manufactured. And that's what cloning is: the manufacturing of something to make it look like the truth."

"I beg to differ with you," Bail said. "The truth certainly can be manufactured, in art, poetry, music. One could argue the creativity is nothing more nor less than the manufacture of truth."

"It's not the same thing! Don't twist it around your fancy words! Cloning must be stopped!" Those in the front of the crowd murmured in agreement.

The Prince handled their hostility with consummate skilled. While it was clear Obi-Wan wanted to disperse the crowd and remove Bail to safety, the Prince sought to engage the students in discussion. "You assume that cloning can only be used for evil purposes," Bail continued. "You fear it the way some people fear ideas. But ideas are neither good nor bad in themselves until someone acts on them, either responsibly or irresponsibly. Cloning can have valuable uses, but we'll never be able to explore them if we decide at the outset that cloning is wrong."

"You are equating the suppression of an unnatural crime like cloning with censorship?" the lead student asked in disbelief.

"What would you have me call it? At least at this conference ideas are welcomed. Even the True Life Movement will be represented. I might point out that there were many who did not want the TLM to be present at all. It was I who insisted, ensuring their voice would be heard. But if you had your way, there would be no discussion at all."

"That's because there is nothing to discuss on the subject of cloning, and any TLM representatives at that conference are traitors!"

Another student warned, "If cloning is legalized, it will only come to a bad end, and the responsibility for all the evil that will follow will rest on your head, Organa!"

The students roared their agreement, letting loose a barrage of insults against the Prince. The crowd, merely curious at first, now became aroused, some siding with the students and others against them. The shouting drowned out any rational discussion. Obi-Wan stepped in front of Bail, his hand near his saber, and Anakin moved protectively closer to Padme. But Obi-Wan's advance only further antagonized the students, who now began insulting the Jedi as well, accusing them of keeping the elite in power and failing to protect the weak and helpless. Bail raised his hands, trying to calm the crowd with words, but to no end. Then from out of the mob someone hurled a piece of fruit that hit Bail square in the chest. The rage that had been building in the crowd now burst forth as they began throwing things, pushing and shoving at each other in an escalating riot.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan shouted, and the young padawan took Padme's elbow and led her to Bail and Jar Jar, where they were flanked by the two Jedi. "Let's get them out of here," Obi-Wan instructed. "But whatever you do, do not ignite your saber unless weapons are drawn. It will only anger them further."

Anakin nodded curtly, but Padme could tell he was eager to join in the fight. It wounded him to see his master insulted, and he ached to teach the students a lesson.

The crowd surged around them, and there was no way they could escape. Someone shoved Padme from behind, and she stumbled hard against Jar Jar. Over the shouting a siren began to wail.

"Security has arrived," Obi-Wan explained. Padme was not tall enough to see over the crowd, but within minutes a small skyhopper forced its way through the mass of people. The door opened, and the two Jedi shoved the others inside. "Get them to safety," Obi-Wan told the officer piloting the vehicle. "We'll stay behind and help with the crowd." Then he slammed the door shut on them, and he and Anakin were swallowed up by the mob. The speeder slowly but inexorably threaded its way out of the melee, as Padme pressed her face against the window, searching for the Jedi.

Bail laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "They'll be all right," he assured her, although Padme detected a tremor in his voice. "After all, they are Jedi. It sort of gives them the right to be overprotective."

Next to Bail, Jar Jar sat wringing his hands. "Those peoples are crazy!"

Padme had to agree. "Who were they?"

"Most likely members of the True Life Movement. They believe that all forms of cloning should be abolished as going against the natural order of things."

"And they will be present at the conference?" Padme asked skeptically.

Bail frowned at her in disapproval. "As I said, all viewpoints must be heard. Not all members of the TLM are so extreme. University students on Coruscant tend to be rather passionate. They are always demonstrating and looking for a fight on principle. Then they graduate, become senators' aides, and lose all their scruples."

His cynicism struck a sour note with Padme. She was about the same age as those students, and like them she wanted to believe that principles mattered, that one could remain true to one's beliefs. But she was also a politician, and she knew that reality often demanded compromise. Still, political life on Naboo was a lot more civil. Did she really want to give that up and embroil herself in Coruscant's shadier version of civic life?

Now that they were free from the crowd, the security officer turned around and asked, "Are you all right, Your Highness?"

"We're fine," Bail informed her. "A little shaken up is all."

Her scorn evident, the security officer shrugged, "Another day, another demonstration. Personally, I think those kids should stick to their books."

"The free exchange of ideas is the lifeblood of democracy," Bail observed.

"If that's your idea of a friendly debate, I'm a Hutt's mother," the security officer dismissed. "So, where do you want me to take you?"

Jar Jar leaned forward. "Wesa no leavin' without da Jedi!"

Bail agreed, "He's right. If you could just take us somewhere nearby, we would prefer to wait for our friends."

The security officer nodded and took the 'hopper up to a nearby hover pad where they could wait. Almost half an hour passed before the crowd finally dispersed, the riot ending as quickly as it had begun. Padme kept losing sight of the Jedi, but as the riot dwindled, it was Jar Jar who spotted the Jedi coming toward them. "Dere dey are!" he shouted, waving frantically at Anakin, who waved back. The 'hopper took them back down to ground level, where the two Jedi squeezed into the rear-facing seats.

Eyeing Obi-Wan's stained and rumpled tunic, Bail remarked, "Well, at least now you'll have to change clothes before we go out tonight. You two are filthy."

Anakin enthused, "Yeah, it was pretty wild, everyone throwing food and stuff around. Someone got Obi-Wan right in the face with a sandwich." Obi-Wan shot him a disapproving look, which his padawan ignored. "This one woman had hold of a Fosh, and she was pulling chunks of his feathers out. And a Lumat got so scared it started squirting out defensive pheromones. Everyone nearby started throwing up. It was really ripe!"

"Anakin!" his master rebuked. "I don't think they really want to hear about it."

Bail struggled hard to keep a straight face at Obi-Wan's ongoing battle to instill a sense of propriety in his padawan, but Padme agreed with the Jedi, and Anakin's stories only frightened Jar Jar further. "My am glad yousa safe, Ani," the Gungan fretted.

"Aw, it's no big deal," Anakin dismissed. "Nothing was going to happen to us. This one guy tried to whack me on the head with his big old textbook, but I got it away from him. It was huge! Almost as long as those history books you're always making me read." He smirked at his master.

Obi-Wan reproached him with a frown. "All the same, I think we should reconsider going out tonight. Tempers are definitely running hot on the cloning issue. There could be a repeat of the afternoon's events."

"Absolutely not," Bail protested. "I'm a politician, Ben. Everywhere I go there are always people wanting to stage a riot for my benefit. I cannot live my life in hiding. Nor should you."

Indignant at the rebuke, Obi-Wan huffed, "I'm not hiding."

"We will all have plenty of verbal sparring in the coming days of the Conference. If Anakin is lucky, the representatives of the TLM and the Trade Federation may even get into a fist fight. So we should relax and enjoy ourselves while we can. A night of dancing and entertainment is just what we need." He turned unexpectedly on Padme. "Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

Flustered at being put on the spot, Padme almost disagreed. She was still shaken by the riot. But in truth she had been looking forward to their evening plans. On Naboo she had few opportunities to have fun with friends. She noticed Anakin leaning forward, hope evident on his face. "I've never been to a nightclub before," Padme confessed.

Pleased, Bail said, "Well, Anakin, there, is a very good dancer, so you won't be disappointed. And Obi-Wan is not so bad, either, once he lets himself cut loose. And as for me, well...." He tossed Obi- Wan a wicked smirk.

"Gungans love dancen," Jar Jar piped up, his earlier fears forgotten.

With that, Obi-Wan knew he was outvoted. He might as well give up his exasperation with Bail and enjoy the ride. After all, the Prince always got his way, and the truth was Obi-Wan was glad he did. "All right," he conceded at last, "but if there is any trouble --"

"There won't be, my dear Bendu," Bail assured him, patting him on the knee. "That's why we let you come with us."

Chapter Three

That evening Padme faced one of the most difficult decisions of her life: choosing what to wear for her night on the town. Everything she had brought with her was either too fancy or too plain. Of course none of her elaborate gowns would do, but the simple clothes she had brought for casual events were far too severe, sober -- matronly, she reflected with dismay. She was going to a nightclub, to dance and enjoy herself. She didn't want a look like someone's austere aunt. She wanted to look, well, sexy.

In the end she raided her handmaidens' wardrobes, mixing and matching pieces of outfits, preening in front of the mirror more self- consciously than when she prepared herself for a major diplomatic function. As she fussed over her clothes, in the back of her mind she asked herself whom exactly she was hoping to impress. Anakin was too young, and Obi-Wan and Bail were too old. But she definitely wanted to make an impact on someone. As a Queen, Padme seldom found herself surrounded by so much raw testosterone, not to mention sexual tension. As she had told Anakin, she had many admirers on Naboo, but they tended to be discreet, distant, formal. On Naboo she could never escape her identity as Queen. But here on Coruscant she could be Padme, not Amidala. She had almost forgotten what that was like. And she had to admit she liked being the only female surrounded by so many handsome men, even if they weren't quite the proper age.

Of the three of them, Bail Organa, Prince and Senator, was the most obvious choice to be the consort of a Queen. She had met his type many times before, although his liveliness made him stand out from the others. At first his casually debonair attitude irritated her, but she was beginning to enjoy it. Unlike any other politician Padme had ever known, Bail Organa didn't seem to care about his image or what other people thought of him. His natural enthusiasm and exuberance drew people to him, not a calculated image on his part. He demonstrated that a public figure of importance didn't have to be serious all the time. Padme could learn from that. Besides, he really was quite at-tractive, with an addictive smile that she could never resist returning. But Padme could tell he had not unleashed his full charms on her. While he obviously liked her, he betrayed no real attraction to her, a fact which offended Padme. After all, Bail Organa had a reputation for falling in love faster than a Nemoidean could turn a profit. Why shouldn't he fall in love with Padme? Not that she wanted to return the favor: the Prince was ultimately too fancy for her. But Padme would not stand a chance with Obi-Wan around, as the Prince was completely infatuated with the Jedi.

Her thoughts turned to Kenobi. He had utterly failed to impress her the first time they'd met, and he scarcely improved the second time around. He was somber, aloof, serious, a little stuck up -- in short, a lot like Padme herself. Out of the three men, Obi-Wan was probably the one her parents would pick for her, "a very earnest, stable young man." The mere thought made Padme shudder. She couldn't even think of a time when she had ever seen him smile. But she hardly had the right to criticize him for she was no better herself. If she didn't want to turn into Obi-Wan Kenobi, she would have to stop acting like him.

Still, he was not unpleasant to look at, and Padme was at that vain age when she believed all men even remotely attractive had a moral obligation to fall in love with her. But she seriously doubted Obi- Wan would comply. Insofar as the solemn Jedi permitted any romance in his life at all, he reserved it exclusively for the Prince of Alderaan, a fact Padme divined not so much from anything Obi-Wan said or did, but from the fact that he never rebuffed Bail's attentions. Padme would never have paired the two of them, but there was no accounting for taste.

Obi-Wan and Bail, however, were no less likely a pair and she and Anakin, and she had to admit it was the young padawan she most wanted to impress. The idea was all the more ridiculous because she didn't need to do anything at all in order to impress him. She had never forgotten the puppy love of the cute little boy on Tatooine, but that had been years ago. It couldn't still be called puppy love after all this time. And he was no longer a little boy, either. He was growing up to be a very handsome young man. In fact, he was already handsome, and Padme constantly had to remind herself that he was only fourteen. His youth showed in his restless eagerness, but he also possessed an intensity that made him seem older even than Padme. She could still recognize the lost little boy in him, but he was becoming a man, with a man's hopes and dreams and fears. The fond indulgence she'd felt for him on Tatooine had never completely vanished, but now her feelings were overlaid with more subtle, complicated emotions. Her attraction to him disturbed her precisely because she did not fully understand it, and she did not trust what she could not understand.

Padme caught her expression in the mirror. It was the same worried frown she'd seen on Obi-Wan that afternoon in the speeder. She smoothed her brow, then smiled at her image and was amazed at how different it made her look: young, happy, even beautiful. No, she didn't have to be like Obi-Wan, and she didn't have to be like the Queen of Naboo, either. She could enjoy herself. She could dance and laugh. She could flirt with a 14-year-old Jedi padawan if she wanted -- and his master -- and his master's lover. She gave her image a smoldering, sultry look. There, that was better. Now she looked like Bail Organa. The thought made her laugh out loud.

The laughing girl in the mirror was the image she liked most of all.

In the end, Padme assembled an outfit of layers of dark blue and sienna. It was not as spectacular as she would have liked, but it would do. She had taken so long to decide that when she met the others in the Complex lobby, she was the last to arrive. They all stood and greeted her with due ceremony, and Padme was pleased to notice that Anakin could not keep his eyes off her. Bail dressed elegantly as usual in dark blue, his hair a cascade of black curls. Jar Jar sported a simple but stylish trimmed leather vest and pants. Obi-Wan was almost unrecognizable in a pale green shirt, with jerkin and pants of a deeper green. The color brought out the red in his hair, which flowed loosely back from his forehead, and she finally saw why Bail might be attracted to him. But the shining star of the group was Anakin, without a doubt. He wore a thin, silk shirt of blood red, and close-fitting black pants with matching red stripes down each leg. He'd even adorned his braid with red and black thread wraps. With the fine, silk shirt, he was able to clothe himself in a way that revealed the shape of his body more effectively than if he were naked. Padme quickly averted her eyes before she betrayed her thoughts with too long a stare.

The air taxi was waiting for them, and within minutes they flew off into the Coruscant night. "We're going to the Shooting Star," Bail explained, "a favorite haunt of mine. You're sure to like it."

"No doubt I will," Padme agreed, "but I've never been to a nightclub before. I don't really know what to expect."

"Don't worry. It's Anakin grand debut as well. There will be plenty to amuse you both, an excellent view of the nightscape, all kinds of music and a variety of dancing, and they can make any drink known in the galaxy."

Anakin couldn't help betray his interest in the latter offering, and Obi-Wan gave him a warning look. "You're a little young."

"I'll stick to beer," Anakin assured him.

"One glass."

"For starters. Don't worry, I won't get drunk." He turned to Padme. "What kind of dances do you know?"

Padme didn't realize there were different kinds. On Naboo, dancing, while popular, was ruled by tradition. "I'm not really sure. What kinds are there?"

"You know, dancing in pairs or groups, freestyle, circle and line dances," Anakin enumerated.

"On Naboo, I suppose we mostly do circle dances. I didn't know there were so many other kinds."

"Oh, tons. I know them all, " Anakin boasted.

"I thought Bail said you'd never been to a nightclub before."

"None that they've taken me to," Anakin blurted out before realizing what he'd said. He froze in horror. At his age, he was not authorized to leave the Temple at will. Without his master, he should not have ever been to a nightclub at all, but he snuck out of the Temple on a regular basis. If the Council knew about his repeated infractions, they would undoubtedly expel him. His first few years at the Temple, he had often gotten caught, and Obi-Wan had dutifully covered for him, arguing repeatedly with the Council for forgiveness. Every time he got caught, Anakin swore to his master he would never do it again, but sooner or later he would venture out once more. Life in the Temple was simply too secure for him, too monotonous. Over time he got better at seeking out unseen, and Obi-Wan learned not to press the point. But how would he react now, when Anakin had all but flaunted the fact that he regularly broke one of the Temple's most fundamental rules?

Anakin waited with downcast eyes. The others realized he'd overstepped the line, and they, too, waited to hear what Obi-Wan would say.

"It's not as if I don't know about your nocturnal excursions, Padawan," Obi-Wan said at last. He knew he would never get Anakin to stop. He had learned to make frequent compromises with his pupil, compromises he knew the Council would not approve of. But what else could he do? "As long as you stay out of trouble, and it doesn't interfere with your studies."

Anakin released a loud sigh, weak with relief. "Yes, Master," he said in a proper spirit of penitence. But the silence stretched on. No one seemed willing to pick up the conversation and rescue Anakin from the hot seat. He struggled to remember what they had been talking about. "So... I learned to dance at the Jedi Temple," he offered awkwardly.

To his relief, Padme picked up on it. "At the Temple?"

"Yeah, they have dances at the Temple all the time, practically every week." After all, what else was there to do? He realized, though, that he could attempt to redeem himself in Obi-Wan's eyes. "Everybody gets together, and they play music and sing and dance. Obi-Wan is a wicked drummer."

"Really?" Jar Jar asked in surprise, and the look of disbelief on Padme's face was priceless.

"Oh, yeah. He sings, too, and plays the keyboard some. He's got a great voice." Abruptly he stopped. Usually Anakin took great pride in boasting about Obi-Wan's prowess in all things, but he wanted to impress Padme himself. This wasn't going well. With a casual shrug, he drawled, "Of course, I can play drums a little, too. I mean, anyone can whack a barrel."

Oops. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Obi-Wan's reproach. Padme graciously chose to overlook this comment. "Do you sing, too?"

He couldn't lie. He seemed to be the only Jedi who was tone deaf. "I don't like to sing in public," he pronounced, with a false note of loftiness.

"Me, neither," Padme admitted. "I have a terrible voice." Anakin smiled in evident relief. "Do you play any other instruments?"

"No." Most Jedi played at least one kind of musical instrument, which they were taught starting at a younger age than Anakin had been when he first arrived at the Temple. He had been behind in so many ways, and he didn't like to start something he knew he couldn't excel in, so he'd never taken up music.

"Neither do I," Padme confessed. With a sly grin she added, "I can't even whack a barrel."

Anakin's ears flamed red, as the two older men struggled to suppress their laughter. Bail nudged Obi-Wan in the ribs. "You barrel-whacker, you."

"My can sing," Jar Jar offered.

"Can you?" Bail asked, still struggling to keep a straight face.

"Sure. Gungans love dancen and singen. Wesa singen all the time."

"It's true," Padme confirmed. It was hard to believe now that the Gungans and the Naboo had ever once been enemies. Since their joint effort to defend their planet from the Trade Federation, they had shared in all kinds of cultural exchanges. "The Gungans put on wonderful underwater performances in which they sing and swim in unison. It's become quite popular among the Naboo, and Jar Jar is really very good, although the singing sounds much better in the water rather than out."

Determined to bring the conversation back around to himself in order to further impress Padme, Anakin volunteered, "I can fly anything. Whenever we go out on missions, Obi-Wan always has me fly. I'm the best pilot at the Temple."

Indulgently, Obi-Wan conceded, "Yes, you are."

"I saw you in action on Tatooine." Padme reminded him. "You were great then. You must be fabulous now."

Anakin glowed. He wanted to regale her with one of his many tales of racing on Coruscant, but since all those races were technically illegal, he didn't dare mention them in front of Obi-Wan, especially since his master didn't know about most of them. He cast about for something else. "I'm a great mechanic, too. I can build and repair anything." His face lit up. "One time I built a droid and dressed it in a robe and set it loose in the hall. Obi-Wan talked to it for an hour before he even realized it wasn't alive!"

Bail snickered, "I never heard about that before."

"It wasn't an hour," Obi-Wan objected, embarrassed. "More like five minutes."

Oops again. Anything he came up with to impress Padme only made Obi- Wan look bad. He had to think of something else. "I'm also an excellent --"

Obi-Wan kicked his foot, "-- cook," he supplied, with a meaningful glance. Anakin returned his master's gaze in confusion. The last time he'd cooked anything for Obi-Wan, he had made the sauce too spicy. He remembered vividly how red his master's face had turned when he swallowed the first bite. Their other dinner guests never finished their portions, but Obi-Wan graciously ate every last bite, even though it made his eyes water and his nose run. He'd even asked for seconds. It had been one of those occasions when Anakin felt he would do anything for such a wonderful master. But it certainly wasn't anything to brag about to Padme. Maybe that was the point.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows slightly. Enough, Anakin, he sent.

"Mesa love to try your cooken, Ani," Jar Jar offered. Anakin smiled weakly at the Gungan but said nothing.

With another glance at Anakin, Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Tell me, Your Highness, is this your first trip back to Coruscant?"

"Yes, it is." "I hope you'll have an opportunity to explore the planet."

"There's lots to see --," Anakin began enthusiastically, then clamped his mouth shut before blurting out any number of attractions that Obi- Wan would lock him up for even mentioning. Obediently, he concluded, "Monuments, museums...."

"An encyclopedia of educational opportunities," Obi-Wan finished for him with a sly smile that said he knew full well what Anakin was hiding.

Like a dutiful student, Anakin offered, "You could come to the Jedi Temple, I can show you around."

"I thought the Temple was not open to visitors."

"Nah. They let the Prince in all the time," he dismissed, not bothering to hide his resentment, and consequently blowing it once again.

"The Prince hasn't been to the Temple in over a year," Obi-Wan observed.

"More like two," Bail corrected.

Indignant, Anakin protested, "Well, I'm allowed to have a visitor, too, aren't I? If the Prince can come, why not Padme?"

"And what about Jar Jar?" Obi-Wan asked pointedly.

Anakin huffed in anger. He hadn't meant to leave out Jar Jar, and he realized that he was coming across as an obnoxious brat.

"Yes, well, in the meantime," Bail interrupted, cutting through the tension, "Coruscant has many more pleasurable pursuits to offer, and fortunately, we have now arrived at one of the best."

"Yes, well, in the meantime," Bail interrupted, cutting through the tension, "Coruscant has many more pleasurable pursuits to offer, and fortunately, we have now arrived at one of the best."

The airtaxi came to rest on a landing pad next to a covered entrance bearing a holographic image of a meteor. A long line of people waiting to get in snaked around the building, but Bail led their party straight to the entrance where they were welcomed immediately. As Bail led the way to one of the booths, Obi-Wan said, "We'll be with you in a minute," then he snagged his apprentice's elbow and led him into a corner. Anakin scowled in anticipation of the lecture he was about to receive.

Obi-Wan leaned close to him. "You have got to calm down." Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by one of Obi-Wan's classic reproving looks. Anakin dropped his gaze in anticipation of being sent back to the Temple, and he didn't see Obi-Wan's expression soften.

"You're trying too hard to impress her," Obi-Wan counseled. Surprised, Anakin looked up at him. "You can't do all the talking. Ask her questions about herself. Find out about her interests. And if that doesn't work, my advice to you is to keep her out on the dance floor. You really are a good dancer, and she'll enjoy herself."

The last thing Anakin had ever expected to hear from Obi-Wan was such advice in matters of the heart. Desperate, hopeful, he opened his heart to Obi-Wan. "Master, I know I'm too young for her. I'm just a kid. But do you think it's at all possible that she likes me, even a little bit?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "I know she does."

Anakin's heart swelled in sheer joy, and he threw his arms around Obi- Wan in a rib-crushing hug. "Thank you, Master! Thank you! I'll never leave the Temple without permission again, I swear!"

"Don't make promises you have no intention of keeping." Such a rash proclamation deserved a harsher rebuke, but right now Obi-Wan didn't care.

"You truly are the greatest Jedi in the whole history of the galaxy!"

"I'm sure I've heard that one before, too," Obi-Wan chided, but he couldn't hide his smile. Every once in a while he was truly glad to have Anakin as his padawan. "Now let's rejoin the others. Your lady awaits."

They threaded their way through the club's revelers and discovered that the others had already claimed a booth. Obi-Wan slid in next to the Prince while Anakin, opposite him, perched next to Padme.

"We ordered ale all around," Bail informed him.

"Sounds good."

Bail leaned closer, his voice low so the others wouldn't hear him over the music. "Is he in trouble?"

"No." Somewhat embarrassed, Obi-Wan explained, "I was just giving him some romantic advice."

Bail arched an eyebrow. "I didn't know that was part of Jedi training. I would have thought the dispensing of romantic advice to be my department."

"The kind of advice you would give is not the kind I've eager to have him receive." Despite his disapproving words Obi-Wan smiled, enjoying their banter. He was beginning to relax already.

Across the table, Padme and Jar Jar stared wide-eyed into the crowd. A line dance was in process, and they watched in admiration as the variety of being dipped and swayed in unison to the thumping beat.

"So many kindsa beings!" Jar Jar remarked.

"There aren't many aliens on Naboo," Padme explained, her eyes drinking in the array of species. "We just aren't used to it."

"Theysa dance like Gungans!" Jar Jar added, thrilled.

Bail leaned forward. "Why don't the three of you join them while us old folks wait for the drinks to come?"

"Yeah, let's go!" Anakin exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, eager to take up Obi-Wan's counsel.

Padme hesitated, chagrined. "But I don't know how to do that dance."

"It's easy, you'll pick it up in no time," Anakin assured her. He took her hand and tugged her to her feet. Jar Jar needed no prompting and quickly followed them.

They joined up in the line. Jar Jar mostly followed his own steps, flinging his arms around and flapping his ears. He looked like a disaster waiting to happen. But after a few minutes, Anakin realized the Gungan actually possessed a surprising, if kinetic grace. Padme had been right: Jar Jar really could dance.

The same, however, could not be said of the Queen. She did little more than move from one foot to the other, confused by the steps.

"Come on, it's easy," Anakin encouraged her. "See, like this. Step, kick, step, turn --," he spelled out as he moved smoothly to the rhythm. Padme tried to keep up and stumbled, ending up facing the wrong way. Anakin reached out and turned her around, taking her hand and leading her through the steps. Eventually she stopped being so selfconscious, letting herself go with the flow, and the steps managed to sort themselves out, although she still managed to step on Anakin's foot every other measure. He only laughed, his eyes sparkling, and Padme let his laugh fill her and move her through the dance. By the time the song ended, the three of them were gliding along like pros. Then another tune started up, and Padme had to start all over again, but this time she picked the dance up more quickly. As she fell into the rhythm she was able to watch Anakin better. The Prince had not exaggerated Anakin's grace. His whole body, hands, feet, hips and shoulders, glided in smooth motions of controlled power. Padme had to keep reminding herself he was only fourteen. The crowd around was likewise captivated by him, and Padme noticed with a twinge of jealousy the large number of appreciative gazes he attracted.

After the next song, the style of music changed, and the line broke up for free-form dancing. Anakin and Jar Jar transitioned smoothly into the new style, but Padme didn't like dances without regular steps. "I'm going to sit this one out," she called to Anakin over the music.

"I'll go with you," he offered.

"No, no, you and Jar Jar stay and dance." She beamed at him. "I'll watch."

Anakin blushed with pleasure and nodded. Padme threaded her way through the dancers back to their table.

"Why did you stop?" the Prince asked as she slid into the booth. "You were great out there."

Padme shook her head meekly. "The true response of a diplomat. I was terrible! I'm amazed I didn't break Anakin's foot, stepping on it so many times. But he's wonderful."

"So is Jar Jar. I keep expecting him to knock someone off their feet, but he never does. It's controlled chaos. I've never seen anything like it before."

Padme took a sip of her drink and rolled the cool glass across her sweaty forehead. Her gaze returned to the dance floor, and she realized Anakin had positioned himself within her line of vision. He saw her watching and winked at her. Smiling, she turned to Obi- Wan. "He's so graceful. I bet he's really good with a lightsaber."

Obi-Wan nodded. "He is. No one at the Temple can believe it. It takes years of practice to master the saber, but Anakin picked it up as if he were born with one in his hand."

"I'd like to see him practice sometime." It occurred to her that with Anakin on the dance floor, she could find out more about him from Obi-Wan. "Is he a good student?"

The Jedi paused. "When he wants to be. When he sets his mind to it, he always excels beyond everyone's expectations."

"It's because he has a good teacher," Bail supplied.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I wish I could take credit for it, but I can't. It's something within him, a desire to learn, but only those subjects he fancies." He cast a sidelong glance at Bail. "Like you and those tiresome art lessons. He can't get enough of it. Such and such a sculptor in the post-traumatic depressionistic style."

"It's not the boy's fault you're a plebian, Ben."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Now Bail's getting him into opera. I can only hope that's what he's sneaking out of the Temple at night for. I'd do just about anything for Anakin, but I draw the line at opera. I have no idea why it interests him so."

Bail smirked. "You're just jealous because the boy has better taste than you." He looked at Padme. "Ben can't even dress himself. Anakin picked out this outfit for him. He picks out all Ben's clothes, otherwise he'd never change out of his Jedi sackcloth."

Curious, Padme asked, "Why do you call him 'Ben'?"

"It's short for Bendu," Bail explained, "which in Old High Galactic is commonly translated as 'Honored One.'" He cast a sly glance at his companion, "Though I prefer 'beloved.'"

"It's an old term of respect for the Jedi," Obi-Wan further elucidated, "but no one uses it anymore."

"Only me. I'm old-fashioned."

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan continued, "The Prince is inordinately fond of handing out nicknames."

"Yes, and my new one for you is 'barrel-whacker.'" He looked across to Padme and offered, "I'll come up with one for you in a day or two."

Padme secretly hope he wouldn't, but she didn't say anything. "What's Anakin's nickname?"

Bail's smile faded slightly. "Anakin Skywalker does not accept nicknames. Certainly not from me, at any rate."

Padme wondered if there was a story behind Bail's frown. She had begun to pick up on Anakin's dislike of the Prince, but she couldn't account for it. Redirecting the conversation back on course, she asked, "Doesn't he even go by 'Ani' anymore?"

"No," Obi-Wan said. "He's never let me call him that. I'm surprised he invited you to."

"I'd never heard that name before," Bail admitted.

"It's what his mother called him," Obi-Wan began, then stopped as he realized that was probably why Anakin didn't want to hear that name spoken by anyone else.

Padme realized it as well. Soberly, she said, "Maybe I shouldn't use it either."

"He asked you to," Obi-Wan said.

Rather than make her feel honored, the validation discomforted her. Why was Anakin still attached to her? This went way beyond a crush. Why did he accord her a privilege he didn't even grant to his own master?

The object of her thoughts suddenly appeared at her elbow. "They're starting up pair dancing now," he said. "Want to go?"

Padme looked out onto the dance floor, where couples were weaving and spinning in what looked like a fun, but horribly complicated dance. "I don't think I can," she demurred.

"Come on, you'll pick it up in no time."

"But I don't want to leave Jar Jar alone."

"You don't need to worry about him, he's already found a partner," Anakin assured her, jerking his thumb toward the crowd. Sure enough, Jar Jar and his partner of a similarly amphibious species were engaged in a froglike ballet.

Across the table, Bail nudged Obi-Wan's hip. "I know I'm ready for a stretch," he said, with an encouraging wink to Padme. The two men disappeared onto the floor.

With a self-conscious sigh, Padme let Anakin lead her out among the dancers. He positioned their arms, taking her hand in his, and instructed, "Now, watch. Here's the basic step." He led her through the dance with infinite patience until she finally stopped stepping on him and got it. "You can't keep looking at your feet," he counseled. "It'll only trip you up. Trust me."

Reluctantly, Padme looked up, but she didn't know where she should direct her gaze. She looked around at the other dancers. "This isn't the way everyone else is dancing," she observed.

"That's all just variation. If you keep your feet in the same rhythm, you'll be fine. I'll let you get used to the steps before we start really getting wild."

Padme let her gaze settle somewhere over Anakin's right shoulder. She was keenly conscious of how close he was, and the fact that his eyes were on her. As she fell into step with him, she could feel the subtle movements of his body directing her. The silk of his shirt outlined his muscles, and she could feel the heat radiation from him. He's only fourteen, he's only fourteen, she chanted in her head along with the music. Fourteen -- the same age she had been when she had been elected Queen of Naboo. She had been even younger when made Governor of Theed. She had also read enough about the Jedi to know that by now padawans Anakin's age were taking on adult responsibilities and mature assignments. Anakin Skywalker might be young, but he was no child.

Through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of Obi-Wan and the Prince, lost in a dance of their own. "Is it true you dress Obi-Wan?" she asked.

Surprised, Anakin said, "Yeah, I guess. He hates looking for clothes." After a pause he added, "He won't even try on half the stuff I pick out for him. One time --." He stopped himself from repeating his earlier mistakes. Get her to talk about herself, he recalled Obi-Wan's advice. Find out what her interests are. "So--," he cast about desperately for a topic but could think of nothing. Maybe his master was right and he should just stick to dancing.

Padme offered, "Obi-Wan said you like opera."

Thank you, Master! Anakin gave a mental sigh. His latest area of expertise. He was about to launch into his knowledge of all the latest stars on Coruscant, with particularly juicy gossip supplied by the Prince's personal experience, when he remembered to check himself. Taking a steadying breath, he asked, "Do you like it, too?"

"Yes. Opera is very popular on Naboo. It suits our tastes."

"Have you seen The Redemption of Chandra Fey?"

"No, we haven't gotten that one yet. Right now we have the Galactic tour of Dreamrunner. It's not really that good."

"Did know the composer wrote it in only two weeks?"

Padme laughed. "No wonder I don't like it! I prefer Brabant's style, anyway."

"Me, too!" Anakin enthused, and they launched into an actual, genuine conversation. Anakin smiled to himself. Obi-Wan would be proud of him.

They were so engrossed in their conversation, chatting away eagerly, that they didn't even notice when the dance ended. Someone tapped Anakin on the shoulder, and he turned to face a Falleen, a highly sexual species. Even Anakin was not immune to the Falleen's powerful pheromones. With dismay, he watched the Falleen direct his attention to Padme.

"May I have the next dance?" he intoned in a sensual voice that wrapped itself around Padme's consciousness. Mesmerized, she felt herself drawn into the mysterious depths of his black eyes. Without being aware of it, she began to pull away from Anakin. He caught her arm, and she looked back to him, this boy with whom she shared a special bond. Her mind cleared, and she smiled at him. Without looking at the Falleen -- not really trusting herself to - she said, "Thank you, but I already have a partner." She folded herself into Anakin's arms and let him sweep her away, while the Falleen watched them go, dumbfounded to have been rejected.

Anakin beamed, and he was sure the Force actually levitated him a centimeter or two off the floor. "Are you ready to really dance?"

All self-doubt fled Padme, and she answered, "Yes."

His arms tightened around her, and they spun, moving as one. Anakin guided her with the subtlest of pressure and direction, leading her through spins, reverses, and increasingly complicated steps. Padme surrender herself to the dance and found herself keeping up with no problem, never stumbling or losing step.

Not far away, Obi-Wan watched them with pride and a hint of sadness. It pleased him that Anakin and Padme found such happiness together, but at the same time he knew that love changes everything. Even though Anakin was still too young for any meaningful relationship with the Queen, his interest in her would alter his relationship with Obi-Wan. For the first time, Obi-Wan understood why Anakin might resent Bail so much.

The Prince crooned, "Look at them. Your little boy is growing up. He's going to be quite the heart-breaker."

With wistful concern, Obi-Wan replied, "I hope he never break any hearts."

"Hearts will always be broken, Ben," Bail intoned, not unkindly. "That's what they're made for." The dance ended and another song struck up. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, Bail announced, "I think I'll go take my turn with the Queen, if she'll have me."

"No, Bail, leave them alone," Obi-Wan requested.

"I know she likes the boy, but she might also like to have more adult company on occasion. Besides, it'll be good for Anakin. A little jealousy makes the heart grow fonder. It might even work on you."

Reluctantly, Obi-Wan followed Bail toward Anakin and Padme. "Your Highness," Bail offered, "do you think I could possibly tear you away from this dashing young Jedi for one dance? I would be most honored."

Padme almost refused, but then she realized she could use a break from the sexual tension building between her and Anakin, and with a smile, she allowed herself to be led away.

Anakin looked on with envy, furious that of all people it was the insufferable Prince of Alderaan who finally wooed Padme away from him. Next to him, Obi-Wan counseled softly, "Come, let's go sit down. You can't keep her all to yourself you know." When Anakin didn't move, Obi-Wan added, "This will give you a chance to watch her." Taking the boy's elbow, Obi-Wan led the still reluctant Anakin back to their booth, where they seated themselves all the way to the back, the better to view the dance floor.

Obi-Wan handed Anakin one of the drinks, and the boy began to gulp it down, hot and thirsty after so much dancing. "Take it easy," Obi-Wan counseled. "So, how is it going?"

Anakin turned eagerly to him. "Great! It's all just like you said. We were talking about opera, and I didn't do all the talking myself. We were having a real conversation. She's just wonderful, and a great dancer, too. Did you see that Falleen that came and asked her to dance? She turned him down!"

"I did see that," Obi-Wan admitted. "Of course, now Bail will think it means he's more attractive than a Falleen." Anakin's face clouded again, and Obi-Wan chuckled. Bail had read the boy well. "I don't think you have anything to worry about with the Prince."

Forcing himself to relax, Anakin said, "Yeah, she probably just felt sorry for him because he gets stuck dancing with you all the time."

Obi-Wan only smiled and took another sip of his drink. For a while they watched the dancers in companionable silence. It felt good, relaxing together like that, more as friends than master and padawan. Maybe the change in their relationship wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. Obi-Wan would enjoy getting to know a more grown-up Anakin.

The boy finished his drink and casually said, "I'm going to order another one. Do you want one, too?"

Then again, maybe Anakin still had a ways to go before hitting adulthood. "I told you, only one drink."

"Come on," Anakin cajoled. "What's the harm in it? I'm not going to get drunk."

Obi-Wan sighed in a mixture of patience and faint exasperation. "For once, couldn't you just do what I say?"

"But, Master, I always do what you say." He paused a beat. "When it's important." He signaled for a waiter.

"I said no, Anakin."

Ignoring him, Anakin ordered, "Two more beers, please. One for me, and one for my good friend," he beamed, clapping his hand on Obi- Wan's shoulder.

Force preserve me, Obi-Wan sighed, eyes closed. He will never let me win.

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled, a voice Obi-Wan unfortunately recognized. "Look who's out for a night on the town before the big conference."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Jani Kleyvits, Senator from the Oseon system and dedicated enemy of Bail Organa, slide into their booth.

"Good evening, Senator," Obi-Wan greeted her as inoffensively as possible.

"So the Prince has brought his pet Jedi out to play."

Beside him, Obi-Wan felt his apprentice tense. Underneath the table, he laid a restraining hand on Anakin's leg.

The Senator gazed languidly across the dance floor to Bail and Padme. "Awfully cruel of the Prince to seduce the Queen of Naboo right in front of you like that. Usually he's more discreet when you're around."

Again Anakin tensed, flashing an angry glance at Bail, but Obi-Wan kept a firm grip on him.

"Though the Gungan would be the better choice for him to ply his charms with. After all, they're the ones who possess the accelerated growth technology everyone is so eager to get their hands on." She returned her gaze to Obi-Wan, gauging the effect her taunts had on him. "Then again, I suppose even the Prince won't sleep with just anyone."

Anakin could no longer take it. "Jar Jar is a good friend of ours!" he blurted out, prompting Obi-Wan to squeeze his leg even harder.

"Is he, now?" the Senator asked, intrigued. "Some people might see your connection with such key players as a conflict of interest, don't you think, Kenobi?"

"The Jedi represent no interests in the cloning issue, Senator. We have been invited to participate as objective observers."

The Senator laughed cynically. "My dear young man, the Jedi are never invited anywhere as mere observers. Nor are the Jedi as objective as you pretend to be. There are always hidden interests at stake."

"And what interests are you hiding?"

"My interests are in plain view, for everyone to see. Cloning is the wave of the future, Kenobi." Her eyes narrowed in warning. "It doesn't matter what this little conference decides. The technology of cloning is here to stay, and it will inevitably be used. You Jedi had better take heed of that. Those who embrace the new technology will move ahead into a brand new day."

"And those who don't?"

"They will be... left behind." But her false smile betrayed a more sinister consequence.

"I'll keep that in mind, Senator," Obi-Wan replied evenly.

"You do that, Kenobi." She stood up. "I'll see you at the conference."

After she left, Anakin turned on Obi-Wan. "How could you just sit there and let her say those things to you?"

"They're just words, Padawan," Obi-Wan counseled. "She wants to get a rise out of us, and if we take the bait, we place ourselves in her power."

Anakin bit back his reply. This was one of the Jedi teachings he had the hardest time understanding. Where he grew up, to let insults stand only lessened one's power. Obi-Wan might brush it off, but he would not forget the Senator, or her words.

Bail and Padme rushed up to them. "When I saw the Senator here with you, I thought you might get your riot after all," Bail quipped. "What did she say?"

"That we had all best embrace the coming cloning revolution."

Bail sneered. "Typical. She only wants it to breed genetically engineered workers for Oseon's asteroid mines. It's people like her that make me want to become a card-carrying member of the True Life Movement. And what was her line of attack this time?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "The pet Jedi routine."

"Ah, yes, her favorite. Well, I hope you piddled on her shoes just like I trained you." Obi-Wan couldn't help laughing. "Good boy," Bail said, patting him on the head and handing him a pretzel. "Have a treat."

"It's not funny," Anakin growled.

"Of course it is. You must not let Kleyvits get to you, Anakin. Her threats are ineffective, and her insults are unoriginal. Now if you don't mind," Bail excused, taking Obi-Wan's hand and pulling him out of the booth, "I'm going to take Spot, here, for his walk."

As the two older men disappeared onto the dance floor, Padme studied Anakin with concern. "What did she say?" Bail's words about the Senator's motives troubled her. The Gungans and the Naboo were both concerned about possible misuses of cloning technology, and she wanted to be well informed about all the issues and players.

But she would gain no insight from Anakin. "Nothing," the padawan growled, smarting at what the Senator had said about Bail seducing Padme.

"The Prince is right, Ani. You can't let what people say get to you."

"If you leave insults unanswered, then people will believe they can walk all over you."

"And if you take offense every time someone says something stupid, you end up looking like a fool."

Enraged, Anakin turned on her, "I'm not a fool!"

Startled, Padme shrank back. Anakin felt a pulse of fear from her. Horrified, he let his anger burn off. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Padme took a deep breath to calm herself and laid a hand on Anakin's arm. "It's all right. Some people are skilled at reading our weaknesses, and they feed them back to us to bait us. The hardest thing about dealing with such people is not to let your own doubts rule you."

Anakin concentrated on where her hand touched him, its warmth seeping into his skin, salving his wounded spirit. She was right. As much as Anakin found the Prince annoying, he knew Bail was an honorable man, and he would not steal Padme away from him. At least not intentionally. Deep down, Anakin feared that the Prince would simply out-class him where Pad-me was concerned.

Then again, she was here with him now, and not out on the dance floor with Bail. Carefully, he asked, "Do you like the Prince?"

The question surprised Padme, giving her insight into what the Senator must have said to disturb Anakin so deeply. Thoughtfully, she re-plied, "Of course I like him. He's a very lively person. But I prefer --." She stopped, wanting to say something to encourage Anakin, but without being too obvious. "I prefer someone --." Again words failed her. Less sophisticated? Less smooth? Not as charming? These all came across as insults. All she could come up with was, "I prefer someone not so old."

Anakin snorted in laughter. "You mean, you like younger men?" he asked brightly.

"Well," Padme blushed, "younger than the Prince, anyway."

"That'll do for me. Now, what do you say we dance some more?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all night."

The party didn't make it back to the Conference Complex until that undeterminable hour that is either very late night or very early morning. To a chorus of "good nights" accented by yawns, Padme and Jar Jar exited the turbolift at their level. The next stop, on the floor where the two Jedi were staying, Bail held the door open, arching a roguish eyebrow at Obi-Wan. "Are you going to come up and have a drink with me?" he asked. "I have a bottle of your favorite wine."

You always do, Obi-Wan thought. He glanced at Anakin, who rolled his eyes. "All right," Obi-Wan agreed, though he was looking at Anakin. "Don't wait up for me."

"I wouldn't anyway," the boy dismissed, turning down the hall without a backward glance.

As the doors closed, and they rode up to Bail's floor, Obi-Wan observed, "It is a little late. Isn't there some big conference we're both supposed to go to tomorrow?"

"It's not as if you have some big speech to prepare for."

"But I seem to recall that you're chairing the event."

"That's why you're coming to tuck me into bed and make sure I get a good night's sleep," Bail offered innocently.

They entered the Prince's suite, and while Obi-Wan settled onto the couch, Bail retrieved a special decanter of rich Alderaani wine he always kept on hand for the Jedi's benefit. He filled two goblets with the ruby wine, handing one to Obi-Wan and taking a luxuriant sip from his own. He sighed, "Young love! It makes me feel eighteen again."

Obi-Wan's eyes smiled over the rim of his glass. "When have you ever acted as if you were older than eighteen?"

"I'm trying to be serious, my dear Bendu. Your little boy is going up so fast and falling in love. Don't you feel proud?"

Attempts by Bail to be serious tended only to bring out Obi-Wan's mischievous side. "I don't see what there is for me to be proud about just because Anakin's hormones are kicking in."

Bail's dark eyes expressed disapproval. "You can be so insensitive sometimes. I remember when Anakin was just a little mop-haired tyke who only wanted to talk about spaceships, and now every time I see him I swear he's grown another ten centimeters taller."

"And he still only wants to talk about spaceships."

"And now girls."

"A girl," Obi-Wan stressed.

"It's a start," Bail shrugged. "Actually, all this reminds me of something I have been thinking a lot about lately. As I watch you and Anakin together, I've begun to think that I might like to be a father someday."

Obi-Wan almost choked on his drink. Suppressing a twinge of jealousy, he sputtered, "A father? Don't tell me you're going to get married."

"Who needs to get married? I would adopt. It's a common enough tradition on Alderaan. One or two little ones to nurture, to teach, to care for." He paused. "To love."

Obi-Wan marveled in silence for a moment at this new level of personal depth in Bail. The Prince was by no means shallow, but up until now all his more profound and serious aspects manifested themselves in his public life. His private life, on the other hand, seemed to consist of one frivolous diversion after another. The image of Bail as a father required a revolutionary change in the way Obi- Wan thought of him. "What is bringing this on?" he asked.

Bail gazed pensively into the depths of his glass. "As I said, maybe it's seeing you and Anakin together. He's not your son, but he is someone to receive your legacy, someone to pass on your values to and all the best that you are. I envy that. And I suppose, silly as it may sound, it's a way of settling down without having to be monogamous."

"Now that would be tragic, wouldn't it?" Obi-Wan teased.

"If you haven't been able to reform me, I must be beyond hope."

Feeling strangely uncomfortable, Obi-Wan diverted the subject. "Actually, speaking of life changes, I've been thinking of making one myself."

The Prince instantly pounced on the prospect. "You're going to leave the Jedi and become a traveling salesman for Encyclopedia Galactica!"

"Nothing quite so dramatic," Obi-Wan confessed. "I've merely been thinking of growing a beard."

"Absolutely not! Grow a beard, and I shall never kiss you again."

The attempt to rile Obi-Wan didn't work. Quietly, he observed, "Qui- Gon had a beard."

At the name of Obi-Wan's master, Bail grew sober. He had never known Qui-Gon Jinn well, partly by the master's design. Obi-Wan was the kind of person who formed few, but very deep, attachments. As an apprentice, he had been wholeheartedly devoted to Qui-Gon, to the exclusion of just about anyone else. Qui-Gon had therefore encouraged his padawan's relationship with Bail so he would spend time with someone his own age.

Bail, on the other hand, was the type who formed many but brief relationships. All Qui-Gon had to do was introduce him to Obi-Wan for him to become captivated by the novelty of the earnest young apprentice. But it took time and effort, more than he was accustomed to investing, to woo Obi-Wan away from his monk-like devotion to his master. Bail learned early on that his relationship with Obi-Wan entailed listening to endless stories about the wisdom, nobility, and prowess of Qui-Gon Jinn. It pained Bail to know that he would always comes second in Obi-Wan's heart, even now, years after the Jedi Master had been killed. Strangely enough this knowledge only made Bail love Obi-Wan more.

After a few moments of respectful silence, the Prince said, "In that case, I'll make an exception." His capitulation strangely cheered him up again. "You see the sacrifices I make for you, Ben? You may yet reform me. After all, I've been with you far longer than I've ever been with anyone else."

"That's probably because we see each other so rarely," Obi-Wan dryly observed.

"Do you know, you may be right? So that's the secret to marital bliss -- don't see each other above half a dozen times a year. Perfect! We may as well get married, and then my mother will stop pestering me to settle down."

This particular turn of the conversation, however lightly taken, began to worry Obi-Wan. "What are you going on about, Bail? Do you expect me to take that as a serious proposal?"

The Prince paused, and his expression grew thoughtful. At length he said softly, "Of course not." He reached out and tenderly brushed his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. "But what if it was?"

Was Bail trying to get at something with all this talk of adoption and marriage? How far was he going to go with all this? Obi-Wan did not feel like playing games on the subject, but he refused to talk frankly unless Bail made it clear he wanted to. "If it was, then you know what my answer would be," was his cryptic reply.

Bail was not at all sure he knew what Obi-Wan would say. But maybe that was the point. "Let's leave it at that, then," he conceded, and taking Obi-Wan's glass from him, he gathered the Jedi into his arms.