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Chapter Eleven

Desperate, Anakin called out, "Hey! Wait for me!"

The blue eyes, warm like the Tatooine sky, locked onto him, firm but full of compassion and concern. "Anakin, stay where you are. You'll be safe there."

"But I --"

"Stay in the cockpit!"

Anakin hunkered down in the pilot's seat, frightened, watching as Qui- Gon and Obi-Wan turned and walked away. But hadn't Qui-Gon told him to watch and learn? How could he learn if Qui-Gon wasn't there? He hated to disobey, but he knew he couldn't remain behind. Qui-Gon was injured, and he needed Anakin's help. "I'll save you, Master!" he cried out. "I'll come back and rescue you!"

He scrambled out of the cockpit and ran after Qui-Gon, chasing down endless dark corridors. He was lost. He didn't know how to get out. But he could feel Qui-Gon's presence, his master's need. He would find him. He had to.

He ran out into a large chamber. It had once been a shopping area, but now it was abandoned. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were fighting the bounty hunters. Anakin wanted to help them, but he didn't know what to do. "Master, you will train me, won't you? I want to be your padawan!"

But it wasn't Qui-Gon who turned. It was Obi-Wan, his face contorted with hate. "He can only have one padawan. He is my master, not yours. He will never be yours."

Anakin screamed, for when Obi-Wan had turned away from Qui-Gon, he had left his master exposed. The bounty hunter, his red and black tattooed face impassive, raised his lightsaber and plunged it into Qui-Gon's heart, while Obi-Wan just stood by and watched.

Grief ripped through Anakin's body, with talons as sharp as a hawk bat's. Horrified, he turned on Obi-Wan. "How could you? You could have saved him, but you let him die!"

Obi-Wan shook his head helplessly, his sad eyes brown, like Shmi's. "I wasn't fast enough. I tried, but I couldn't get there in time."

Desperate, Anakin begged, "What will happen to me now?"

Obi-Wan looked on him with compassion. "The Council have granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi, I promise."

But what was such a promise worth, coming from one who had let his own master be killed? Obi-Wan had never wanted him before, why did he want to train him now?

Anakin held up his lightsaber. He had built it with his own hands. No one had believed he could build it so fast. Most students had to try several times over a period of months before they finally succeeded in constructing a live saber, but Anakin had always been good at building things, and he had known exactly what to do. It had only taken him three days, and he knew it would work. He pushed the activation stud, and the blade sang into life, deep red, the color of Qui-Gon's blood. He didn't need training. He had all the power he could ever want.

He pointed his blade at Kenobi. "When we last met, I was but the learner. Now, I am the Master!"

Obi-Wan met his gaze, his eyes blue again, but not warm like the Tatooine sky. They were colder than deep space. "You are only a master of evil."

Snarling, Anakin ran at Obi-Wan, the blood-red blade slashing at his chest. Obi-Wan collapsed, dead. Anakin stood over him, power coursing through him, so strong, so fierce, so uncontrollable he thought he would explode. Raw energy tore through him, ripping muscle from bone, boiling the blood in his veins, peeling the skin from his body. It felt like he was on fire. He couldn't take it any more. He would die.

Anakin jolted awake, jerking upright, gasping desperately for breath. His heart pounded so hard he thought it would burst through his ribcage. He couldn't see anything. His eyes had been burned away. He raised trembling hands to his ravaged face, but his fingers touched smooth skin, not the charred flesh that he expected. He ran his hands over his face, feeling his intact features, his hair, his braid. His hair and Obi-Wan's. He shuddered violently. Obi-Wan had killed his master. Obi-Wan had done nothing, had stood by while Qui-Gon was cut down.

No, that wasn't true! Obi-Wan had tried to save Qui-Gon but couldn't get there in time. One night not long after Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan had sat Anakin down and told him the whole story of what had happened that awful day, how desperately he had wanted to save Qui-Gon, just as Anakin had wanted to save Obi-Wan from the bounty hunters. Like Obi-Wan, Anakin couldn't get there in time. He could do nothing to help.

But that had been his own fault, hadn't it? A moment of carelessness, an unforgivable moment of bravado, of a desire for vengeance, and Anakin had almost cost Obi-Wan his life. Is that also what had happened on Naboo? It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Obi-Wan had loved Qui-Gon. He loved Anakin now, as Anakin loved him.

Didn't he?

Anakin trembled violently, horrified, ill. He staggered unsteadily to his feet, struggling to free himself from the dream's spell, to remember where he was. The ground level of Coruscant. Bail and Jar Jar lay asleep nearby, he could hear their even breathing in the darkness. Padme was on watch. Obi-Wan was wounded somewhere. And it was Anakin's fault.

The dark beast returned, screaming inside him. Anakin clutched desperately at his head, wanting to crack open his skull and tear the beast out of his brain. This couldn't be! None of it was true! It was a nightmare, a nightmare only. He had had enough of them to know. They had become his nightly companions, those horrible dreams of loss, of betrayal, of hatred, of revenge. Anakin had taught himself how to forget them, how to lock them away, to feed them to the beast who swallowed them eagerly, so that Anakin could not remember them by the time he jolted awake. But even the beast was not strong enough to devour this dream, and without the beast's help, how could he control himself?

Anakin stumbled out of the room, away from the others so the darkness inside him couldn't harm them. Master Yoda spoke so sanctimoniously about anger, fear, aggression, but he had no idea what they really were. None of the Jedi did. Anakin, however, knew them like the sound of his own breathing, the taste of his own sweat, the beating of his own heart.

His feet carried him down the hall, his face buried in his hands. He walked blindly, like a drunkard, not a Jedi, knocking into the walls, tripping over his own feet, finally stumbling over a pile of debris and falling to his hands and knees. He curled up on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest. Master, I need you! Help me, please! he cried silently. He didn't know if he was calling for Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon, but it didn't really matter. Neither of them could help him. No one could. It would be better for everyone if he just disappeared into the labyrinth and never re-emerged. It would be better for everyone if he just died.

He didn't know how long he lay there, but he slowly became aware of a gentle warmth penetrating all the way to his inner dark core, melting away his fear, tugging gently at the fierce grip the beast held on his soul. It wasn't his Mas-ter. It wasn't his mother. But he knew that touch.

Slowly he opened his eyes. A luminous face shone above him, lit by an inner light. That face was so beautiful, but its beauty had nothing to do with physical appearance. She was an angel. He'd known it the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. She was an ethereal creature of strength, of goodness, of light. Her healing touch spread through him, an anti- venom to the beast's dark poison.

Padme had been keeping her watch out in the hallway. She had seen Anakin stumble out of the room where they had made camp. She could sense his anguish, and she had followed him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Her voice fell on him like droplets of liquid gold, seeping into his cold skin the way Tatooine's twin suns gently burned away the nighttime chill. He rose, melting into her arms, into safety, into peace. His breathing was ragged, choked, but he did not cry. Anakin Skywalker never cried.

She held him, stroking his hair, rubbing his back, rocking him the way her mother used to rock her. Slowly his breathing grew even, and she could feel him begin to relax, just a little bit.

"You're worried about Obi-Wan."

He said nothing, unable to answer.

Padme continued, "I know it was hard for you to leave him behind. But soon we'll be out of here, and we'll get back to him with help. He'll be all right."

His grip on her tightened. He wanted to give in to her, to tell her the whole truth. But how could he? She wouldn't understand, and she would hate him. Even his angel couldn't save him from the beast.

Padme reached into her shirt and pulled out her pendant. She held it up in the faint light for him to see. "Do you remember this?"

Astonished, Anakin recognized the necklace he had carved for her all those years ago.

"I wear it every single day," she told him. "I never take it off. It reminds me that in the darkest hour of my life, someone helped me, someone I had only just met. And he helped me not out of a sense of duty or for reward but purely from a generous heart. I have never forgotten you, Ani. I owe you everything. I will always be your friend."

Had he really once been so pure? Anakin could hardly remember the boy he'd been back then, sheltered from the horrors of slavery by his mother, eager to help the beautiful stranger who had walked into Watto's shop. Could she be his salvation now?

"I had a dream" he began, his voice seizing up. He never told anyone about the dreams. "We fought, Obi-Wan and me. We were dueling with our lightsabers." He drew in a long, ragged breath. "I slashed him in the chest. I killed him."

Padme remained silent for several moments. "You blame yourself for his injury."

"Shouldn't I? It was my fault."

"It's always easier to see afterward what we should have done, but we were being attacked by three bounty hunters on bikes. That's a lot even for two Jedi to handle. You didn't want Obi-Wan to be hurt."

And was one Sith Lord too much for two Jedi to handle as well? He remembered how fiercely the dark warrior had fought on Tatooine. If Qui-Gon hadn't been able to leap into the ship, he would have been killed. Maybe Obi-Wan couldn't have saved Qui-Gon after all.

But the same could not be said of Anakin. "A Jedi should never lose focus like I did. I should never have abandoned Obi-Wan's flank. It's all my fault. If he dies --" He squeezed his eyes shut, the terror of the dream washing over him once more, drowning out his hope. In the dream, both his masters had died. There had been no one left to save him from his own power. "If Obi-Wan dies, no one else will train me."

"That's not true --"

"Yes it is," he bitterly protested. "None of them wanted me to be trained in the first place." He heard again Mace's cool voice, saw his granite eyes, as he pronounced the verdict in the Council room. He will not be trained. In the end they had rescinded their decision, but only under pressure. They gave in because Obi-Wan had promised to defy them. Obi-Wan, who had never trusted him, had pledged his support once Qui-Gon was gone. Anakin's heart bled with the need to believe in Obi-Wan. His fingers reached for his braid. We are bound together. I do not doubt you, any more than I doubt myself. He wanted so desperately to believe, but he could not. If I doubt myself, Master, does that mean I can't trust you?

The beast gnawed relentlessly at his heart. This is your destiny, the icy voice rang in his chest. You cannot escape it. Anakin groaned. "Everyone I love, everyone who loves me, I lose them."

"Not everyone, Ani," Padme said gently. "I'm still here."

He shivered, and honesty compelled him to say, "I'll only betray you, too."

"No, you won't." The way she said it, it didn't sound like a belief or a conviction, but like a fact, as immutable as the rising and setting of the suns. "I know you. You would never betray me."

Her cool lips pressed against his burning forehead, and she rested her cheek against his. Her touch was like cool water at mid-day, like a song in tired ears, like the release of a long-held breath, like the stars anchored in the sky. She believed in him. She could save him. And slowly, hesitantly, he allowed himself to believe her, too, to believe that it would be all right, that he wouldn't drive her away as he had his mother and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

But the beast in his heart knew better. Because in his dream, in that instant before the fire overcame him, he had killed Obi-Wan. And his black soul had rejoiced.

Chapter Twelve

When Anakin next woke, he did not know if he had dreamed at all. He felt exhausted, drained. His sleep had not been restful, but at least he didn't remember his dreams. He lay curled up next to Padme. Asleep, she was even more beautiful. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't dare. He rose quietly so as not to disturb her, and returned to the room where Jar Jar and Bail lay sleeping, to retrieve the water bottles. He didn't have to go far to find the water source he'd identified the day before. It was a shallow pool. Not very clean, but the water at the surface was fairly clear, and the decontamination tablets took care of any biohazards. Anakin drank deeply of the bitter water, then refilled the bottle. He had one more errand before returning to the others. During his wandering the night before he had come across a pile of debris. He hoped to find something the Prince could use as a walking stick to help take the pressure off his injured knee.

He soon found the trash pile and scrounged around for a suitable stick or strut of some kind. Why hadn't he thought to look for a walking stick for Bail before? Why had he made the journey so hard for the Prince? But he knew why. He hadn't cared. Anakin liked the idea of being a dashing hero, of rushing in to save the helpless and defeat evildoers. He had been so enamored of this romantic vision of himself he had failed to recognize that real life was different. Real life was about trudging through long, dark corridors, about scrounging for food and water, about calming fears and cooling tempers. Real life was about accepting people's shortcomings and helping them to move beyond their limits. Real life meant that even dashing heroes had weaknesses.

Anakin had not acquitted himself very well on this mission. Yes, he'd killed some bounty hunters, but he had failed the people who really needed him, first by not attending to their needs, and then by passing his frustration onto them for the mistakes he had made. But this mission wasn't about Anakin Skywalker being a hero. It was about saving people's lives. He had made mistakes, but fortunately everyone was still alive, including Obi-Wan, to the best of his knowledge. >From now on he must set aside even his own self-doubt and do everything he could to make sure they all stayed alive. He must rise above himself. He must live for the others.

He found a suitable walking stick and headed back to their camp, feeling older. Maybe not wiser, certainly not happier, but more experienced, hardened, and hopefully more capable of fulfilling his duty. No more rash promises about being a model padawan. He would simply do what he had to do.

When he returned, he found the others rousing from sleep. He passed around the water bottles and handed Bail the stick, saying, "I thought this would help you walk better. How does your knee feel?"

Bail flexed his right leg tentatively. It didn't bend very far. Wincing, he said, "It's stiff, but I'll survive. Thank you for the walking stick. It will definitely help."

Anakin nodded. "Today, you set the pace, and the rest of us will keep up. We'll be out of here soon enough."

They breakfasted on cold rat, and before long were once more on their way. They walked in silence, at a slow but steady pace. They were all more than ready to leave the ground level, and they focused all their energy and attention on that task, leaving no room for chit chat or batter.

As they progressed, they saw more and more signs of recent habitation. Someone had lived here not long ago, maybe still lived there. No one was sure if this was good news or bad news. Anakin kept his hand close to his lightsaber hilt, watchful and alert.

They came to a small atrium that had several corridors branching off it. Padme started to enter the atrium, heading toward the corridor opposite them, but Anakin stopped her. She looked at him nervously. "What is it?"

He only shook his head. "Something's not good, but I don't know where or what it is." Anakin's Force-sense was amazingly perceptive, but he could have a hard time focusing it if he wasn't personally connected in some way.

The others waited in anxious silence as Anakin concentrated. Jar Jar, though frightened, was too tired to whimper. Bail reluctantly prompted, "So, what do we do?"

Anakin apprehensively peered down the corridors one by one, stretching out with his senses but picking up on no malicious intent, sentient or otherwise. "I don't know," he admitted.

Padme looked at Jar Jar. "Do you hear anything?" The Gungan wagged his head no. She suggested, "Maybe we should go back the way we came and find another route."

Anakin considered, then slowly shook his head. "It would take too long. We might as well go on. We can face whatever it is." He straightened his shoulders, projecting a confidence he didn't actually feel, and led the group into the atrium.

They were half way across the clearing when Anakin's danger sense snapped into focus. "It's above us!" he screamed, igniting his blade. "Run!"

But it was too late. They had unwittingly tripped a sensor, and an electro-net fell upon them from where it had been concealed on the ceiling. Anakin's saber sparked violently when it came into contact with the net. An excruciating pain shot through his arm and into his body, and he blacked out.

An ear-splitting alarm went off, jolting Padme back into consciousness, her head aching. At least this time she didn't feel like throwing up. She only wished her skull would split open so the rampaging kaadu stomping around in her brain could get out. She carefully pushed herself up into a sitting position. The other three still lay unconscious. They were in a cage, a large cell made up of bars as big as her forearm.

The cage was in the center of another large, warehouse-like room. Like the one they had encountered before, several levels above had been knocked out to form a high ceiling. Walls had been removed to create a large room, and sections of the outer wall had been cut through on the upper levels to admit light. But unlike the other room, this one was inhabited. It was a kind of squatters' camp. Makeshift tents and shelters had been constructed around the edges of the room. People sat around campsites or worked on broken pieces of machinery. No one was looking in her direction. In fact, they seem to avoid looking at the prisoners.

She crawled over to Anakin's side and gently shook him awake. He roused instantly, then uttered a low moan, clutching his right arm. Concerned, Padme asked, "Are you all right?"

He grimaced. "Yeah. That net shorted out my saber and gave my arm a nasty shock, but I'll be okay." He cautiously flexed his arm while looking around and taking in their situation as Padme had done. While she woke Bail and Jar Jar, Anakin noticed that their weapons were gone, including his lightsaber.

Bail clutched his head. At least the headache made him forget about his knee. He looked out at the room's inhabitants. "Any idea who these people are?"

Padme shook her head. "They are ignoring us."

Bail looked at Anakin, almost as if seeking the boy's permission. "They don't look like bounty hunters," he observed. "They look homeless. I suggest we try to talk with them and find out what they want with us."

Anakin nodded, and Bail gingerly got to his feet, followed by the others. He tried to catch someone's eye, but no one looked at them. "Excuse me," he called out.

A small group that had been sitting around a makeshift table rose and approached the cage, pointing rifles at them, their rifles, the ones they'd taken from the bounty hunters, including Padme's little blaster, and --

"My lightsaber!" Anakin exclaimed in a low voice.

The weapon hung from the belt of a tough looking, middle-aged Phindian. "It doesn't work anymore," she informed him. "The electro- net seems to have broken it. Too bad. I've always wanted to see a lightsaber in action." She shrugged. "I'd give it back to you, but who knows? You might be able to fix it, and we can't have that."

"Who are you?" Bail asked.

The Phindian sneered at him. "We're no one to you, Senator."

So their captors knew who they were. Not a good sign.

The leader continued, spreading her long arms wide to indicate the community in the room. "We are the undocumented, the disappeared, the outcasts. Your Republic has no place for us, so we live down here where no one bothers us and we don't bother no-body."

Bail mildly observed, "Except us. You have obviously captured us."

The Phindian laughed. "True enough! Somebody visited us and told us you might be coming along. We promised we'd keep an eye out for you, and you obligingly walked into one of our security nets."

"Who wants us?" Bail asked, hoping against hope that it might be the Jedi or Security Forces.

"They didn't say who they were," the Phindian admitted, "but they looked really nasty, and they promised to reward us well. They are going to supply us with new IDs so we can all get out of here."

The bounty hunters would have such contacts. The prisoners' hearts sank. Bail offered, "If you know who we are, then you'll realize that we can reward you as well. We can pay you more than the bounty hunters are offering."

One of the others, a Gotal, nudged the Phindian and grumbled, "See, I told you."

Trying to hide her dismay, the Phindian replied, "What would you have me do? Go up against bounty hunters?"

"We could have caught them first and then made a decision. The bounty hunters would never need to know."

"You don't think they would have found out and come back for revenge?" the Phindian angrily protested.

"It's not too late," Bail offered. "We can still talk, and we'll be able to offer you protection against the hunters."

"And what help would you really offer us?" the Phindian sneered. "You only care about your rich and powerful friends. People like us don't matter to you."

"You're wrong," Bail began, but she cut him off.

"You think we're all criminals, don't you? I was once. I got caught and served my time. But when I got out, I couldn't find a job because no one would hire me when they saw I had a record." She gestured to her comrades. "Some of these have the same story, but others just got down on their luck, got fired and lost their homes. Do they deserve this? What do we owe you that we should stick our necks out for you? You've done precious little for us, Senator." She spat out the title like a curse.

Bail remained silent. The stories she told him were not unfamiliar to him, but there was not much he could do. Every system had cracks through which innocent people fell. True, lately the cracks had gotten wider, but he had his hands full with a Senate that seemed increasingly unable to do anything effective. Or so he had told himself. He found he could not in all good conscious defend himself in front of these people, but to his surprise, Anakin defended him instead.

The boy stepped up to the bars, fixing the Phinidian in his gaze. "Senator Organa is the best friend you've got. He's always trying to help people."

The Phindian scoffed, "He makes the bounty hunters look like ministering angels. Anyway, there's no point trying to convince us to help you. We already sounded the signal for them. They'll be on their way by now."

So that's what the alarm that had woken Padme was, a signal to the bounty hunters.

Anakin knew it was up to him down. He emptied his mind of all fear, anxiety, or thought, opening himself fully to the Force. It flowed through him, infusing his body and mind with its warmth and pure energy. There was no hint of the beast now. It was as if it had never existed. Anakin focused on the cage's lock and it fell open, the door swinging out. Their captors raised their rifles at him as he stepped out of the cage. Without taking his eyes off the guns, he turned his head slightly toward his friends. "Follow me," he said. "It's all right." He walked resolutely on toward their captors.

"Shoot him!" the Phindian yelled. She raised her rifle and fired at him.

Anakin raised his hand and deflected the bolt harmlessly up into the ceiling, as if swatting away a fly.

Stunned, the Phindian stepped back. The others all lowered their guns in shock. Anakin kept walking forward, the others following him, amazed at what he had done, but still fearful.

When she realized the others were going to let him go, the Phindian raised her rifle at him once more. "You are not getting away!" she growled. "Shoot him, or the bounty hunters will shoot us!" Again she fired upon him, and several of the others did as well. Anakin raised both hands and deflected the shots up, calling them to him and sending them toward the ceiling, his mind calm and clear. His palms tingled, but they were not hurt. He gestured toward the Phindian and the rifle flew out of her grasp and into his. He pointed the gun at her as the others stopped firing at him.

"We are leaving now, and that's final."

The crowd faltered, and for a moment the Phindian looked like she would give in, too. Then her eyes hardened with resolve. "No. We are civilians. You won't harm us." Raising her voice, she called out to the people gathered around. "Lower your weapons and surround them. We can't let them get away."

The crowd followed her instructions, forming a tight circle around him, three beings deep. They were afraid, but Anakin could see the determination in their eyes. Their only hope of escaping their exile was to turn their captives over to the bounty hunters, and they would risk anything for that hope.

Anakin stared down the sights of the rifle toward the Phindian, his finger on the trigger, his certainty wavering. Surely if he shot her it could be called self-defense. But she was right. These people were all innocent. They had fallen through the cracks of the Republic, outcasts with no rights, as he had once been. Was it so wrong of them to do whatever they could for their freedom? And would he truly be justified in firing upon them?

He lowered the muzzle of his rifle and looked fully into the Phindian's eyes. "Let us go," he said. It was no mind trick. It was simply a request from one outcast to another.

The Phindian met his gaze with genuine remorse. "I'm sorry, kid. We can't do that."

A low rumble filled the air, and four speeder bikes flew through the knocked out portion of the wall. They fanned out immediately, and Anakin knew there was no way he could get them all. He tracked one of them with his rifle, but did not fire. The four bikes settled in the midst of the crowd, surrounding Anakin and the others. They all wore the trademark helmets of the Fetts. Anakin tightened his grip on the rifle and pointed the weapon at the man nearest to him.

The bounty hunter raised both hands and slowly dismounted, Anakin watching him warily. The Fett growled, "You, Jedi. Are you the one who killed my cousin?"

Anakin did not lower his gun. "Yes."

"Not many people in this galaxy have ever managed to kill a Fett before. You must be quite a warrior."

Anakin said nothing. No trace of his earlier pride in killing the Fett remained. He had done what he had to do, that was all.

The bounty hunter continued, "You know, of course, that you will pay for her death with your life. But for the sake of my cousin, I'll give you an honor no others deserve. I will kill you in a fair fight. No weapons, no armor, and no Force tricks. Just hand to hand combat."

"And why would I want to do that? I could just shoot you now."

"Yes, but your friends would all be dead before I hit the ground, as would you. But I'll offer you an incentive. If you fight with me fair and square, we'll let one of your friends go free, whichever one you choose. You realize, of course, that this means we will not fulfill our commission with our employer. But family honor is more important."

Anakin hesitated. "And if I win, we all go free."

"No. This isn't a bargain. It's a guarantee. Let me assure you, you won't win. And even if you do, you and two of the others will die at the hands of my cousins here. But if you fight fair, regardless of the outcome one of your friends will go free."

What kind of a deal was that? It was no deal at all. He could shoot the hunter now, but the others would be killed. Maybe if he fought the man and killed him it would surprise the others enough that he might somehow overcome them, but he doubted it. He had no concrete guarantee, and yet the Fett's promise rang in the Force with crystalline truth. They really would let one of them go free. It was the only chance any of them had. Anakin would have to go along with it. But he would have to choose which one.

He lowered his rifle and turned back to the others, his eyes pleading with them, but whether for guidance or understanding, he was unsure. The three of them returned his gaze with total trust. They knew the situation was untenable, and they understood he had no choice. How could he possibly pick among them? Every fiber of his being cried out to save Padme, but how could he condemn Jar Jar and Bail to death? He didn't want any of them to die. It wasn't fair.

Bail took Padme's hand and nodded at Anakin. "It's all right, Anakin," he encouraged softly. "You do what you have to do." Jar Jar took Padme's other hand and smiled warmly at Anakin. Padme's face was still, resolved, but her eyes shone as beautiful as always, giving him courage. You'll always be my angel, he thought.

Slowly he turned around to face the Fett. "All right," he conceded. "But I want to live long enough to see you keep your promise."

"Agreed," the Fett said. "Which one do you want as your guarantee?"

Anakin shuddered and almost balked. He closed his eyes for a moment and reached out to the Force to find his calm center. There would be no tricks, but even without the Force he would fight like a Jedi. He was filled with a sense, if not of peace, then of resolution. He opened his eyes again and approached the Fett, whispering the name into his ear. He didn't want anyone else to know until the time came.

He stepped back, handing his rifle back to the Phindian, whose hands shook as she took it from him. The Fett stripped off his armor and divested himself of his weaponry while the crowd stepped back, making room for the fight. The last thing the Fett removed was his helmet. He was about Obi-Wan's age, with close-cropped black hair, and a square jaw. He was a big man, much bigger than Anakin, and well muscled. Anakin realized he might very well lose the fight, but that didn't matter. He accepted his fate.

The crowd backed up, creating a much larger space in which Anakin and the Fett could fight. One of the other Fetts led Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail to the side, while the other two Fetts took up strategic positions around the circle. Anakin hoped that they only wanted to keep an eye on the fight and weren't planning to double-cross him and attack. But he could only deal with one problem at a time.

He and the Fett circled each other, sizing each other up, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Knowledge and defense, Anakin repeated to himself. Never attack. He knew perfectly well that anger was his weakness. He could not afford to let it rule him this time. He would wait as long as it took.

The Fett, however, grew tired of waiting. He darted in quickly, his fist swinging towards Anakin's head. But it was a feint. At the last instant, his other fist came up low to catch him in the stomach. But Anakin saw the blow coming. He blocked it with his forearm and backed away.

The Fett was impressed. It showed in his eyes, but only for an instant before he again moved in with another feint combination. Anakin once more blocked the blow, but this time the Fett did not let him get away. He pursued Anakin with a flurry of punches. Anakin blocked them all, but was being pushed back toward the crowd. He leaped high, somersaulting over the Fett's head to land in the clearing. The Fett spun, smiling in satisfaction before once again pressing the attack, again forcing Anakin backward. Anakin gave way, then abruptly planted his feet and aimed a solid blow to the Fett's throat. His timing was perfect, and the blow should have landed, but remarkably it did not. At the last instant, the Fett blocked Anakin's punch and ducked low, taking advantage of Anakin's moment of surprise to swing his leg out and dump Anakin onto his back. The Fett jumped on top of him, raining blows upon him. Anakin blocked them, but now he was pinned to the ground. He grabbed the Fett's wrists, but the bounty hunter used his grasp against him to pull him up and butt his forehead against Anakin.

It felt like a steel plate had slammed into his skull. Dazed from the blow, Anakin could not resist when the Fett released one of his wrists and smashed the heel of his hand into Anakin's nose, breaking it. The pain spiked straight into Anakin's brain, but he let the pain sharpen his focus. The Fett hesitated, complacent at having scored two hits against the Jedi. Anakin pulled down on the arm he still held while landing a blow on the side of the Fett's head with his free fist. He twisted the Fett off him, rolling over and following through with a kick to the man's side. Anakin flipped up onto his feet and rushed the Fett before the man could get up, but astonishingly the Fett broke free, kicking Anakin in the chin as he spun out from under him.

Anakin reeled, shaking his head clear. He had sparred many times at the Temple, and the Fett was easily as fast and powerful as any Jedi. He had sorely underestimated his opponent. He had to fight as if the Fett really was a Jedi. More than that, he had to fight as if he were sparring with one of the masters, someone who he knew would beat him, but from whom he could also learn.

The Fett charged him again, aiming another blow at his nose, but Anakin ducked under his arm and punched the Fett in the same spot he'd kicked him before. The Fett winced but did not waver in his attack. They both fought furiously, Anakin ignoring the blows which the Fett got through his defenses, waiting, watching for every opening the Fett gave him, and then landing a solid punch of his own, strong and true. Slowly the Fett began to tire, but he was wearing Anakin down as well, and Anakin doubted he would outlast the bounty hunter. The Fett's punches were weakening while Anakin's remained strong, but the Fett landed more of them.

They scuffled closely, Anakin trying to keep in a close enough range to reduce the impact of the Fett's blows, but he was growing weary, and he failed to notice the Fett shifting his weight. The Fett slammed his shoulder into Anakin's broken nose. Pain exploded through his entire body, and his legs collapsed beneath him. Weakly he threw his arms up to shield his face. The Fett drove his heel into Anakin's stomach, crushing the breath from his lungs. This was it. Anakin could no longer attack, and he could barely defend himself. As the final blows fell, he heard a loud whining in his ears that faded quickly into a buzz. A bright light flashed in front of his eyes, and he lowered his arms, surrendering to it. He was dead.

So why did his nose still hurt?

Confused, he opened his eyes just in time to see the Fett's headless body toppling sideways. Behind him stood Bo-Neda, her white lightsaber shining. She glanced to the side, but Anakin couldn't see what she was looking at. He still didn't understand what had happened or what she was doing there. Then she deactivated her saber and knelt over him. Before she could say anything, Padme's face suddenly appeared beside her, followed by Bail and Jar Jar, all of them looking desperately worried.

"Ani, are you all right?" Padme asked, breathless with fear.

Dazed, all he could say was, "What the fuck happened?" Obi-Wan didn't approve of swearing. In fact, he could feel his master beating him on the nose with his lightsaber hilt.

Another face swam into his vision, one of the Masters. "Oh, shit." Now he was really in trouble. But she only smiled at him.

"Lie still, Anakin," she said as she cupped her hand over his nose. He felt a warm tingling sensation all through his sinuses, and the pain ebbed away. It still hurt, but now he could think clearly.

He was pulled up into a sitting position, and six voices began talking at once. Padme, Jar Jar, and Bail were explaining why Anakin had been fighting bare-handed with the bounty hunter and why Obi-Wan wasn't with them, and the three Jedi were explaining how they had heard the signal meant for the hunters, and how they had tracked their location and sneaked up unseen on the crowd while everyone's attention had been focused on the fight.

As the six of them babbled on, Anakin glanced around the room. The four bounty hunters lay dead, and the crowd had disappeared. They probably vanished into the underground as soon as the Jedi appeared. He spied his lightsaber lying on the ground several meters away. The Phindian had left it for him. He reached out his hand and called the weapon to him. The saber was blackened where it had shorted out, but he would be able to fix it.

"We have to go for Obi-Wan," Anakin said, cutting through the cacophany of voices.

Adi glanced at Bant. "You take Bo-Neda and the others up in the speeder to the traffic lanes where they can hail an airtaxi. Bo-Neda will escort them back safely. Then you come back with the speeder, and we'll go find Obi-Wan."

Bant nodded, and she and Bo-Neda stood up. Bail rested his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You were right. We'll sleep in our own beds tonight, and Obi-Wan will be safe." He gave Anakin's shoulder a squeeze.

Jar Jar shook his hand, gushing, "Yousa saved my again. Yousa one bombad Jedi."

Padme only smiled and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "We'll see you soon, Ani. Now go get Obi-Wan."

The three of them stood and climbed gratefully into the speeder. Within moments they were gone.

Anakin stared after them for a moment, still trying to get his bearings after the fight and all that he had come so close to losing. He glanced around him at the empty room again, then looked at Master Adi. "What will happen to these people?" She just looked at him, and he continued, "They were counting on the reward money to get them out of here. What will happen to them now?"

Adi frowned slightly. "They captured you and would have turned you over to the bounty hunters. Are you suggesting we should reward them for that?"

"These people had no choice," Anakin persisted. "Can we really blame them for taking the only chance that was offered to them?"

Master Adi pursed her lips, studying Anakin for a long time. At last she relented, "I'll look into it. I can't make any guarantees, but no one should have to live down here like this."

Anakin nodded in gratitude, then fell silent. He felt awkward around the other Masters, as if they always disapproved of him. They did not speak again until Bant returned with the speeder. Master Adi and Anakin climbed in, and Anakin led the way back to the building where Obi-Wan was hiding.

They were able to take the speeder part of the way into the building, but eventually the doors became too narrow, and they had to get out and walk. Despite his headache, Anakin ran on ahead, leading them deeper and deeper into the building. He could not sense Obi-Wan at all. Surely he would have felt it if his master had died. He found the room where they had camped that night and began shouting Obi- Wan's name, but there was no reply.

Desperately he raced down the hall, searching for the little room in which they had hidden him, but Anakin's fear clouded his memory, and he couldn't remember which was the right room. He peered into each doorway, but he found no one, and his calls elicited no response. Panic engulfed him. The bounty hunters may have found Obi-Wan after all, or some predator might have discovered him and dragged him off for a meal.

Bant and Master Adi caught up with him. "I don't know where he is!" he cried.

Bant laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Concentrate, Anakin," she instructed. "You do know."

"But I can't feel him! Can you?"

Her silver eyes dimmed. "No, but it probably just means he's unconscious. Rely on your memory to tell you where he is. Close your eyes, now, and focus."

Anakin closed his eyes, struggling to rise above his fear, running through the discipline for memory recall. "We walked down this hall," he said, turning and beginning to walk, eyes still closed. "We turned at this corner, and ...." He opened his eyes and dashed down the corridor, stopping in front of the right door. In the dim light he could see the counter, but he saw no sign of Obi-Wan, nor could he feel his presence. "Master?" he whispered brokenly as he moved behind the counter, afraid of what he might find.

Obi-Wan lay on the floor, still as death. Anakin's cloak had been flung aside, and he could see the blood staining Obi-Wan's chest. His master's face was pale. Anakin knelt beside him, carefully gathering Obi-Wan into his arms. "Master, please," he begged. "Please, wake up. Please be all right. I came back. I said I would. I'm here now. Please, Master."

Obi-Wan's eyelids fluttered. After a moment his unfocused gaze settled on Anakin. His lips twitched in a weak smile. "I've been expecting you," he sighed.

Anakin clutched Obi-Wan to him, and for the first time since he had left Tatooine, he cried.

Chapter Thirteen

A week after the abductees had been safely returned, the Senate called for a vote on a bill that would place the new cloning technology exclusively into government control. The public had been outraged by the abduction, and the anti-cloning factions had found themselves with little support. The members of the Hammer were eventually discovered and arrested, as were key leaders of the True Life Movement. General opinion held that the cloning technology was too valuable to remain in private hands where it could be easily abused.

Padme attended the historic vote, but she did not sit in the Naboo/Gungan senate box. The coveted technology belonged to Jar Jar's people. It was his moment, and she did not want to take away from it by her presence. There were many people on Coruscant who found non- humans to be inferior. If she appeared at this moment, they would look to her rather than Jar Jar as the supplier of the cloning technology. So she attended the vote dressed as a handmaiden rather than a queen, and she sat in the Alderaani box as Bail Organa's invited guest.

The speeches during the debate seemed to be more full of bombast than of substance. It disturbed Padme to hear herself, Jar Jar, and Bail lifted up as near-martyrs to the cause of cloning. The speakers relished assigning blame for the abduction and the fanaticism that had inspired it on all kinds of people. Government control was lifted up as the one safe harbor for such vital but dangerous technology. Throughout the debate, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine sat calmly listening, his brow furrowed in concern at the charge everyone was so eager to place into government hands. He had made it clear that while he would have preferred not to take such a drastic measure, the heightened climate of unreason and terror fostered by the abduction had made it necessary.

At last the vote was called for. Padme watched as Bail registered an affirmative vote on his console, but he did so with a heavy sigh. "It will pass, of course," he observed, looking out across the Senate chamber, his expression troubled. "What else can we do? Private interests will not have the common good in mind. But to place the technology into the control of such a government...." He shook his head, then turned to her with a slight smile. "You were thinking about joining us here in the Senate. I can't say I would recommend anyone becoming a part of this government. On the other hand I must con-fess that I would be heartened to have you as a colleague."

She only smiled warmly at him. She was not ready to speak her mind about her decision.

Bail sighed again and stood up. "I've had enough business for one day. Will you walk with me back to my office?"

"Certainly."

They exited the box, and Bail drew her hand through his arm. "You have proven to be a most formidable individual, Your Majesty. Far be it from me to try to influence your decision, but I think if anyone can turn the Republic around, it would be you."

"You are far too flattering," she dismissed.

"I think not. I saw you face down two bounty hunters with a blaster no bigger than my hand. You can be quite intimidating, and I for one would hate to cross you."

"My little blaster didn't stop them, though," she pointed out.

"No. That was your skill at hand-to-hand combat."

Padme laughed. "Is that how you remember it?"

"Absolutely, and my memory never fails me. Whether you serve as Senator or Queen, Naboo is fortunate to have you."

"And Coruscant is fortunate to have you."

"Would that everyone agreed with you! But I'm afraid I failed to show you a very entertaining time here on Coruscant."

"On the contrary, I found my time here to be very entertaining, after a fashion."

He gave her a skeptical glance. "You have a rather sick idea of entertainment."

"All right, maybe 'entertaining' isn't the right word. But the company was excellent."

They arrived at the Alderaani suite, and Bail led her to his office, where he opened a cabinet and removed a bottle of wine. He held it up. "Would you care for some fortification?"

"Sounds excellent," she agreed.

He poured out two glasses, then joined her on the couch. "You should feel honored. This bottle is reserved for Obi-Wan. But since you are such a close personal friend of his, I don't think he'll mind me sharing it with you."

Taking a sip from her drink, she asked mildly, "Are you seeing him tonight?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "When he wants to see me, he calls. Those are the rules."

"How ridiculous!" Padme scoffed. "And who made up these rules?"

"I suppose I did."

"Are you at least going to talk to him?"

He didn't have to ask what she was referring to. "No. He doesn't need to hear about all that." When she gave him a skeptical look, he turned the tables back on her. "Are you going to talk to Anakin?"

There was certainly much they could talk about: his recklessness that had led to Obi-Wan's injury, his attack on Bail and subsequent repentance, his dream, the choice that had been forced upon him, and above all the mystery of his attachment to Padme. These things probably should be discussed, but they were too deep, too weighty. How could she broach such subjects with him? "No, I suppose I won't talk with him, either," she admitted at last.

For a long time neither of them spoke, each pondering the things that could not be said. As Bail's thoughts wandered, they eventually came around to an aspect of their trip that had astounded him. "I can't believe you actually faced Anakin down when he...." He still couldn't bring himself to mention the assault out loud. "You even slapped him! I thought for certain he would attack you, but he didn't."

Padme asserted, "Anakin would never hurt me."

But Bail wasn't so sure. "He was out of control. Who knows what he might have done, however unintentionally? Yet you stopped him with barely more than a look. In some ways, that's even more impressive than your stand against the bounty hunters. I dare say you have a greater influence over Anakin than Obi-Wan does. Where does it come from? This is far more than a crush."

Padme bristled at his characterization of Anakin as posing a danger to her. "Why do you dislike him so?"

Surprised, Bail protested, "I don't dislike him. He's the one who doesn't like me."

"But you are always talking about how he's so disobedient, a wild child, how he has no friends and he's out of control."

"He is," Bail asserted, then considered. "Maybe he has changed since you first met him. That was, what, five years ago? Tell me what he was like then," he encouraged.

"He was a sweet little boy." Padme turned her mind back to when she and Anakin had first met, recalling her own desperate situation, and the change Anakin had made in her life. "He gave us shelter in his home when we were strangers to him. He offered to help us get the money we needed to repair my ship's hyperdrive. He was so open, so enthusiastic and eager to share everything he had. And he did it -- he won that race and got us the money we needed. I don't know what we would've done without him." Her eyes clouded as she realized that the events on Tatooine had set in motion changes in Anakin that began even in the short time she'd known him. "In a way, because he helped us he ended up losing everything he had. He was freed, enabling him to come with us, but that meant he had to leave his mother and go alone into a galaxy he knew nothing about. I owe him everything, because he gave up everything for me."

"He really loves you," Bail observed, "and you love him."

Hopelessly, Padme nodded.

With a tender smile, Bail shook his head. "One should never fall for a Jedi."

Again his words seemed callous. "Why not?" Padme shot back.

"Because once you fall in, you can't get back out again. Maybe it's their legendary mind tricks." He smiled, then glanced away, sinking into thought. "Or maybe it's their neediness. They devote their whole lives to helping other people, putting other people's needs ahead of their own. But who helps them?"

"They help each other," Padme observed.

"Yes, but that's sort of like the blind leading the blind. I can hardly be considered an expert on the Jedi, but I've known Obi-Wan a long time. For all that he is always running around the galaxy saving people, it strikes me sometimes that he knows very little about the reality those people live in. He knows only the crises: the collapse of governments, marauding pirates. What does he know of how ordinary people live their lives? About income tax and public school systems and medical insurance? What do Jedi really know about falling in and out of love, of getting married and divorced? What do they know about how to care about somebody without a code to govern the relationship? Anakin knows a little of the real world because he grew up apart from the Temple. But now they're trying to force him into their mold, and he doesn't fit very well. He is caught between two worlds. No wonder Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do with him." Padme thought back on what she had seen of Obi-Wan. For all that he had amazing skills as a Jedi, he seemed extraordinarily inept at interpersonal relationships. Perhaps that was why she had always seen him as cold. He was so unlike Qui-Gon, who had been eager to let people into his life. She knew Obi-Wan better now and could see that he cared deeply for Anakin and Bail, and in his own way for her and Jar Jar as well. Yet for all that he loved Bail, he never seemed to express it. She couldn't see why Bail would want to remain with someone who called him so rarely, but then it wasn't her life to live. Instead she had Anakin, who wore his love openly, perhaps too openly. "The difference between Obi-Wan and Anakin is that Anakin knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask for it."

"Yes, but for the Jedi that isn't a virtue. Hence the irony: I would do absolutely anything for Obi-Wan, but he will never ask."

His comment reminded her of how she'd once felt about Qui-Gon. He had always been so maddeningly calm in the face of any adversity, that she at one point thought a law should be passed requiring the Jedi to demonstrate an emotion at least once a year. Anakin did not have that problem. "I think the Jedi could learn a lot from Anakin."

Bail nodded thoughtfully. "If only they would listen."

Anakin and Obi-Wan stood once more in the Council chamber. Anakin hated appearing before the Council. No matter what the subject was he always felt that somehow he was the real object of scrutiny. He felt exposed, enclosed on all sides by the Masters, unable to hide from their penetrating gaze. See through you, we can, Yoda had said the first time he'd appeared before them. Anakin didn't like feeling so...naked. At least the absence of so many Council members meant that he wasn't completely surrounded. He could even have a clear view out of the window that was not obstructed by some sanctimonious Master. He was supposed to keep his eyes on the Masters as a sign of respect, but he didn't like to, and this time he had an excuse not to look at them at all.

Instead, his eyes were fixed steadily on his own master. Obi-Wan might only rank as a Knight, but Anakin felt he far outweighed any of the Council members in wisdom and valor. But that wasn't why he watched him now as he gave his report on the abduction. Rather, Anakin was worried about his master's health. Obi-Wan had been near death when they had recovered him. They had immediately taken him to a hospital where he had surgery to repair the internal damage. For a day, Obi-Wan's status had been uncertain. He had lost a tremendous amount of blood, and his wounds had become severely infected. During all that time Anakin had never left his side, refusing to be treated for his own injuries until he knew his master was safe. Finally Obi- Wan had regained consciousness, just long enough to smile at his padawan and then scold him for not letting the doctors tend to him. Anakin had never been happier to receive a scolding in his life.

He knew Obi-Wan would be fine, but his master had not yet fully recovered. The healers had only discharged him from the infirmary three days ago, and he still tired quickly. Though Obi-Wan hid it well, Anakin could tell his master was weary from standing in front of the Council. Surely the masters must be able to see Obi-Wan's fatigue. Didn't they care?

At last Anakin couldn't take it anymore. Interrupting Obi-Wan, he demanded, "Can't my master sit down?"

Mace rested his granite eyes on Anakin. A padawan should only speak when spoken to before the Council, and he should never interrupt his own master. Anakin met Mace's gaze without flinching, and to his surprise, Mace relented. "Yes, of course. Have a seat, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan hesitated. Not once in all the times he had appeared before the Council had he ever sat in their presence. He was shocked that Anakin had made the request, but since it had been granted he wasn't about to refuse. With a small bow, he took the seat normally reserved for Eeth Koth, grateful to get off his feet.

Anakin moved to stand at Obi-Wan's elbow, but Mace offered, "You may sit as well, Anakin."

Anakin was so surprised he almost forgot to bow before seating himself in Depa Billaba's chair, next to Obi-Wan. It took all his powers of concentration not to smile. He was sitting in a Master's chair! None of the other padawans would believe it.

"Please continue, Obi-Wan," Mace indicated.

Obi-Wan resumed his narrative. He had been telling them about the bounty hunters, and he had just gotten to the part where Anakin had abandoned his flank. Of course he didn't put it that way. He merely said that Anakin had gone to head off one of the hunters who was firing upon the others sheltered in the doorway. The Masters were not fooled, however. Every single one of them understood the recklessness of Anakin's behavior, but it was not their place to correct Anakin themselves. Nevertheless, Anakin was relieved that Mace merely raised an eyebrow and didn't give him one of his infamous lectures.

Obi-Wan likewise made no mention of Anakin's outburst against Jar Jar and Bail. Instead he described Anakin's discovery that they were being tracked through the Force. At this news, all of the Masters turned their attention to Anakin, who struggled not to squirm beneath the weight of their collective gazes.

"How did you know this?" Mace asked coolly.

Anakin took a moment to collect himself before answering. "I could sense it, like a mental probe, only very faint." He thought Mace would challenge him. After all, most padawans were not that sensitive to the Force. But then he wasn't most padawans. Even Master Mace acknowledged that.

"Could you identify the source of the probe?"

Anakin shook his head.

"Do you think it could have been a Sith?"

"I wouldn't know what one feels like, Master," Anakin pointed out.

His face impassive, Mace turned back to Obi-Wan, letting Anakin off the hook -- for the time being. Obi-Wan continued with his report, up to the point where they had left him behind. Now it was Anakin's turn. He sure hoped he didn't have to tell them everything. Obi-Wan was a different matter. He had already told his master all that had transpired -- or almost all of it. He hadn't mentioned the dream. After all, dreams were a reflection of the subconscious, and not a reflection of what one had actually done. Nor had he told Obi-Wan what exactly he had said to Bail when he attacked him, merely that he'd yelled at him and said things to hurt him. Obi-Wan had been deeply disturbed both to hear that Anakin had lost control so completely and that Bail had been his victim. He and Anakin had talked for a long time about the incident, but he had not pressed to know exactly what Anakin had said.

So in his report to the Council, Anakin stuck to the relevant facts: their capture by the squatters, the arrival of the Fetts, the deal they had made with Anakin, and the fight. But this time his actions were not going to get by without comment.

"It was very foolhardy to make such a deal with the Fetts," Master Mace rebuked. "You placed yourself in their power."

"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin said, but he didn't really mean it. "I didn't have much of a choice."

"One always has choices, Anakin, but sometimes those choices are difficult to see. I'm sure your master will review this scenario with you to help you discover what other courses of action lay before you."

"Yes, Master," Anakin offered submissively.

Mace turned again to Obi-Wan. "Thank you for your report. As you know, the leaders of the Hammer have been arrested. They have confirmed that they were indeed aided by an independent source, but they know nothing of who or what that source is. It is unlikely that we will be able to discover anything further. The Senate has voted to turn the cloning technology over to government control, but we have no idea if that was the ultimate intent behind the abduction, or if there was another purpose. The important thing is that you rescued Senator Organa, the Queen, and the Gungan Ambassador safe and sound. For that, you are to be commended." Master Mace leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingertips before him. "You are dismissed. May the Force be with you."

Obi-Wan and Anakin stood and bowed to the Masters, then left the Council room. When the door closed behind them, they walked slowly, thoughtfully down the hall. Despite Mace's commendation, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel that he had not delivered anyone safely. That had been Anakin's doing, and if not him then at least Master Adi, Bant, and Bo-Neda. But once again the Council had found reasons to disapprove of Anakin's actions. Would his padawan never satisfy their exacting standards?

Anakin was also concerned with their disapproval, but for a different reason. Troubled, he burst out, "How can Master Mace say I shouldn't have made the deal with the Fetts? What else could I do?"

Not wanting to disagree with Mace, Obi-Wan mildly observed, "He was right about it placing you in the Fett's power."

"But aren't you always telling me that things don't always work out the way we want? That we have to be flexible? I couldn't possibly have defeated all the Fetts. If I'd tried, we all would have died."

"He may also be concerned about the effect it has on you to be placed in such a situation. You were given the illusion of a choice, but it was one designed to make you feel guilty. No doubt the Fett intended to make it worse for you, to make you feel that in choosing for one to live, you chose the others to die."

Anakin was silent for moment. "It does sort of feel like that. I know they don't want to blame me, but surely they must, at least a little bit."

Obi-Wan rested a compassionate hand on his padawan's shoulder. "They understand, Anakin. They don't blame you at all. Nor should you blame yourself."

"I don't, Master," Anakin replied with sober conviction. "I made the right choice."

But his certainty disturbed Obi-Wan. "When people's lives are at stake, there can't be right or wrong when it comes to choosing between them. All lives are valuable."

"I know that. I didn't want any of them to die. But a padawan's first duty is to his master, isn't it? That's why I chose you."

Confused, Obi-Wan blinked twice before saying, "I don't understand. Chose me?"

"If one of them was let go, that meant someone would be able to go back and get you. I had to agree for your sake. The Fett said he would kill me, and I had no reason to doubt him, which meant my choice was obvious. If you had to lose me, I didn't want you to lose us both." He paused, his gaze naked and young as he searched Obi- Wan's face for approval. "I picked Bail."

Obi-Wan was completely stunned. He, like all of them, had been certain Anakin had picked Padme. Everyone understood that his love for Padme was the purest thing in his life, that he would defend her first and foremost. No doubt that partiality was part of what Mace disapproved of, but Obi-Wan could not see Anakin's love for Padme to be wrong. So to learn that instead Anakin had placed Obi-Wan's heart above his own left him dumbfounded. The choice must have broken the boy's heart. "Oh, Anakin," he whispered helplessly.

Anakin sensed Obi-Wan's ambivalence. "It was the only choice, Master. I had to pick for you," he said, half-pleading. "Is that wrong?"

What could Obi-Wan say? Somehow he'd never thought of it before, that he might have lost both Anakin and Bail. The realization horrified him, but what had it cost his padawan? Obi-Wan wasn't sure he could approve of such an enormous sacrifice. It was not the kind of sacrifice a Jedi would make. It was one a friend would make, so how could he reject it? Once again Anakin had stepped out of the realm of everything Obi-Wan knew, and he was at a complete loss as to how to respond.

So he did the only thing he could. He reached out to Anakin and pulled him tightly into his embrace. "No, Anakin, it isn't wrong," he said at last, his heart aching. "But next time, pick for yourself." He knew Mace would not agree with such advice, but right now he didn't care.

For a long moment, Anakin returned Obi-Wan's embrace. Then a thought troubled him. "You won't tell anyone, will you, Master? Especially not Bail."

"No," he promised. He doubted Bail would believe him anyway.

Relief flooded through Anakin. All that mattered anymore was that his master was alive, that all of them were alive, that he hadn't had to lose Padme after all. Right now any sacrifice seemed worth it if made for his master's sake. "I love you, Obi-Wan."

There it was again: that overwhelming love that was not quite proper in a master-padawan relationship. The Council would definitely not approve. But for now Obi-Wan did not concern himself with their disapproval or with the propriety of it. He chose to accept Anakin's love as a gift, from one friend to another. If it didn't feel exactly right, nevertheless it felt good, and he bathed himself in its light. "I love you, too, Anakin," he said, and he had never meant any words more.

And the beast lay dormant, curled up in Anakin's heart, quiet for now. It had much to ponder, and it would forget nothing.

Epilogue

Several days later, Bant joined Obi-Wan for breakfast. She gave a wistful sigh as she stared down at her meal.

Obi-Wan heard her and glanced up, concerned. "What is it?"

Idly she shoved the food around her plate with her fork. "Why didn't you ever mention Jar Jar before?"

Confused, Obi-Wan said, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm surprised you never told me about him. When he came to visit you in the infirmary, I offered to take him on a tour of the Temple. We went swimming in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. I've never met anyone who could swim as well as me." She gave Obi-Wan a saucy glance. "You certainly can't."

"Sorry," he returned.

Her silver eyes took on a dreamy look. "While we were underwater, he sang to me. It was so beautiful."

"Yes, I've heard about Jar Jar's singing ability," he remarked dryly. "Permit me to be skeptical."

Surprised, she asked, "Don't you like Jar Jar?"

"I find a little of him to go a very long way."

"How can you say that?" she rebuked, eager to jump to the Gungan's defense. "He's so cute. And very funny. I love his sense of humor. And he's very charming and sweet, and...."

As Bant raved on with her list of Jar Jar's virtues, Obi-Wan suppressed a groan. Force preserve me! he thought in despair. Jar Jar has made a conquest!