Return to chapter 6 of A Lost Hope
Nejaa Halycon, Jedi Master, and CorSec officer shook his head
as listened to his partner. "Obi-Wan owes me," he retorted.
"Us, my friend," Ylenic It'kla said quietly as he gazed
around the barren landscape, before staring at a hill. "She
has spent much time sitting on that ledge."
Nejaa shielded his eyes from the sun and looked, then used the
Force to sense her presence. "It's her last few hours here.
We should let her be."
"She has lost much." It'kla's expressive Caamasi face
showed his sadness. "Like we all have."
"True." Nejaa pointed toward the Gungan who stood guard
nearby. "Jar-Jar Binks has assumed the role as her protector.
He's always near her--whether she wants him there or not."
"Like us. Kenobi sensed her life was in danger." The
Caamasi stiffened slightly as they started walking toward Binks.
"Her twins are Jedi."
Nejaa chuckled. "He's not very forthcoming with information.
And he's the one off playing investigator, leaving the trained
professionals here."
"He seeks the Sith Lord."
"I know." Nejaa glanced at his friend who had started
sniffing the air. "Is something the matter?"
The Caamasi cocked his head to his left. "I do not know."
Nejaa closed his eyes. Yes, there was something not quite right.
They approached the Gungan. Jar-Jar smiled at them in greeting.
"Meesa glad to see Jedi. Many Naboo leave today. Much confusion."
"Something suspicious?" Nejaa asked as he stretched
out with the Force.
"Meesa don't know, sir."
Nejaa glanced at It'kla who nodded. "We'll look around."
Jar-Jar frowned, then tripped as he started to run. A quick somersault
brought him back to a standing position then he bolted toward
Amidala's hill. It'kla followed him. Nejaa unhooked his saber,
but left it unignited. The Force guided him toward another, slightly
higher hill.
While It'kla and Jar-Jar ran toward the young woman, he concentrated
on the statues on the hill.
"Yes," he whispered as he started jogging. Nejaa's silver-white
saber ignited as he blocked a blaster-rifle bolt. Just as quickly
there was a second blast toward Amidala. He broke into a sprint,
barely noticing that It'kla's saber had blocked that shot. The
assassin fired at them again, leaving Nejaa free to attack him
from the rear. He barely heard Amidala shout something before
the assassin blasted at him again.
"Interfering Jedi," the dark-haired man said as he fired
his blaster-rifle. Nejaa ducked the shot, then blocked the next
one with his lightsaber.
"We try. I presume I can't just say you're under arrest?"
The man sneered, then fired again. Nejaa rolled away and concentrated
on projecting an image of his body continuing to roll down the
hillside. The man smiled and turned his attention back to Amidala's
group. The Jedi Master leapt, quickly slashing the blaster-rifle
in half. He pointed his saber at the man's chest.
"Who are you working for?" Nejaa let his voice become
low and threatening.
"Jedi scum," the man shouted then pushed himself into
the blade. Nejaa shut it off, but it was too late: the assassin
was dead. He hooked his saber on his belt and ran over toward
where Amidala and It'kla had been
Lieutenant Cru snapped to attention as he handed the message from
the Naboo capital to Admiral Brandel, then waited as the Admiral
skimmed the note.
"I don't know what they expect us to do. It's an internal
matter." He handed the note back to Cru.
"Sir, the message does mention that she was murdered."
Brandel shrugged. "And I know that Commander Skywalker has
tried several times to contact..." He took a step back as
Brandel's expression soured and the admiral glared at him.
"This matter has no bearing on the mission. There is no mention
in this note about the commander. So, lieutenant, I suggest you
return to your duty station and continue performing your assigned
tasks." Cru saluted quickly and waited for Brandel to leave.
He started to sit at his station, then glanced at the man who
sat next to him.
"I need to take care of something," he said. The other
man grunted. Cru glanced quickly at the time. Odds were in his
favor that Brandel would not appear on the bridge again anytime
soon. He clenched the note tighter in his fist. He knew that Commander
Skywalker had expressed a great amount of interest in sending
a message to this woman. Brandel had turned down every request.
One message wouldn't have hurt anything. Cru could relate to Skywalker's
attempts. He had a girl on Commenor--and he would want to know
if she was okay. A quick check with the computer confirmed what
he'd already suspected. Commander Skywalker was in his quarters.
Not surprisingly, since the young man rarely spent his non-duty
hours elsewhere. He stepped into the lift.
He wavered a second in his resolve at the commander's door. Then
he knocked. The second time he knocked harder. The doors slid
opened onto a spartan room. There was nothing in the room that
gave any indication of what kind of man Skywalker was. He snapped
to attention. "Sir."
"Yes," Anakin said in a cold voice as he looked up from
his desk.
"I know this isn't my place, sir, but I understand you've
requested information from Brandel about the Naboo woman, Amidala
Naberrie." He watched as the commander's eyes narrowed.
"It doesn't matter. Brandel made his position very clear."
Cru shivered slightly. While Brandel's dislike of Skywalker was
vocal and public, Skywalker's hatred was quiet, cold, and calculating.
"She's dead," he said. "The message from Theed
didn't offer any details, except that the Jedi were involved."
"The Jedi," Anakin said softly, but with such vehemence
that Cru backed out the door. He saw a brief flicker of pain and
sadness in the commander's eyes. The expression of murderous hatred
that followed made him take another step back.
"Sir," the lieutenant stammered. "I'm sorry. I
gather you knew her?"
"I knew her--" Anakin clenched his fists tightly--his
eyes now blue ice. "--a long time ago." Cru felt his
guts harden as he saluted and bolted. He'd heard stories about
the cold commander--but he'd never figured that they were describing
the man's ability to chill a room. He shivered as he waited for
the lift, and wondered if he'd ever feel warm again.
Anakin's anger screamed for release, but he held it tight. Now
was not the time, but soon Obi-Wan would pay for this. They would
all pay. They'd used her to get to him--and now they would be
punished for destroying her. As his anger swelled, the mysterious
presence spoke. *Good. Concentrate on your anger. Draw upon it,
feel the Force swell within you. Soon the time for your vengeance
will be on hand.*
"Who are you?" He whispered.
*One who has waited for you for a long time. Only together can
we end this destructive war and restore peace to the galaxy. We
are the future--not Kenobi or the Jedi.*
*My Lord,* Anakin said, *I need to know more...*
*All in good time. You will know when you need to know.*
Anakin closed his eyes tighter and concentrated. He felt his anger
form a center as the energy that came from the Force flowed through
him. His smile reflected the power he felt. The Jedi were too
weak to end this conflict. It took power they refused to understand
and use. He would no longer be weak like them.
King Marlasa stared at the two bodies in front of him, before
turning to the two Jedi who stood guard. "I don't understand.
Why would anyone want to assassinate her?" The three Gungan
who stood behind him, their heads bowed in sorrow, were the honor
guard sent by the Gungan survivors. Nejaa bowed politely as he
greeted them.
"I don't know," Nejaa said softly. "Maybe a misplaced
belief that she was responsible for this."
"This is a terrible day. Two of Naboo's great heroes killed.
The Gungan have lost so much, and now him." Marlasa said.
The three Gungans stepped forward.
"Your Majesty," General Tarpals said. "The Gungan
wish to claim what is ours." He clasped his hands. "A
Gungan funeral is very private."
"I understand, General." Marlasa said as the other two
Gungans picked up the litter that carried the body of Jar-Jar
Binks and started walking away. Tarpals marched behind them.
"Wait," Nejaa said. "He died trying to save her
life. He performed this last act bravely and with no thought of
his own safety."
General Tarpals nodded. "And so we shall honor him. Thank-you,
Jedi." Nejaa bowed.
Marlasa spoke softly as the Gungan procession left. "The
Naboo are in great need of good news. Today it was not to be.
I've informed Admiral Brandel. Perhaps they will provide an honor
guard."
Nejaa nodded in agreement, even though he hoped they would not.
"Sire, I would like to stand vigil tonight. Alone, as penance
for my failure to keep her alive."
"You did what you could," Marlasa sighed. "But
your request is granted. You killed her assassin. I understand
no one recognizes him."
"No, your majesty." That wasn't true. Nejaa recognized
the man, but also knew that to announce that Amidala had been
assassinated by one of the galaxy's top hit men would only bring
greater distress and confusion to the people of Naboo. And more
importantly, outside investigators.
"I'll leave you to your vigil." Marlasa glanced at Amidala's
body. "A sad day indeed."
"Thank-you," Nejaa bowed then waited for the king to
leave the damaged temple before speaking to his partner. "You
know what we need?"
It'kla nodded. "The Force shall guide me. Be careful, my
friend. There may be those who seek proof of her death."
"And they shall find it." He watched as It'kla departed,
then placed a hand on Amidala's forehead. "Patience. It won't
be much longer."
Palpatine stared at the image of the man with a frown. "You
have done what I asked?"
The man shivered slightly, then nodded. "Yes, Supreme Chancellor,
I have seen Amidala Naberrie's body. She is truly dead."
Marlasa shivered again. "Her Jedi guards are standing vigil.
It is a tragic event."
"Yes, it is." Palpatine said quietly. It was also an
event that should have happened earlier. "The two Jedi? You
don't find their involvement suspicious?" He lowered his
voice as if divulging a great secret.
Marlasa looked confused. "Suspicious? I don't understand.
They did everything they could to save her."
"Yet, they are still alive." Palpatine watched and waited
as the young Naboo king contemplated his words.
"Sir, what are you suggesting?" Marlasa's eyes expressed
his shock and horror at the idea. Palpatine allowed himself a
small smile. This was too easy.
"I'm not suggesting anything, it is a curious fact though.
Good-night, your highness." Palpatine's smirk grew as the
image of the confused King of the Naboo vanished. He would have
rewarded her assassin handsomely if he'd survived, then arranged
for him to disappear. The Jedi had saved him the trouble. Nothing
would come from his hint of Jedi complicity in Naberrie's death,
but the seeds of doubt had been sown. And more importantly, Skywalker
also had his suspicions about her death. The young man's connection
to the darkside was indeed powerful. As the prophecy of old had
promised, the Chosen One, Skywalker was.
Amidala gazed down from her vantage point high in the ruins of
the palace. She knew Nejaa Halycon was behind her, still vigilant,
even as a world watched her funeral. The whole event had a surrealistic
feel about it. She'd spent the past day in some sort of trance,
though at some level she'd been aware of the procession of mourners.
She remembered wanting to reach out and tell her friends she was
fine, and the sadness at not being able to. She was as dead to
them as they were now dead to her. She returned her attention
to the continuous succession of mourners entering the temple as
she wondered how her people would remember her.
"Bail?" She asked without turning.
"I sent the message. I believe he understood the hidden meaning,"
Nejaa said.
"Good," she said with a small smile. She continued to
stare at the scene below.
"We should be leaving."
"I know. Who was she?" She referred to the young woman
whose body Ylenic It'kla had found: the one who would be buried
as the former Queen of the Naboo, Amidala Naberrie.
"No one knows," he said sadly. "She died after
a month in a coma. No one ever identified her."
"Ironic really," Amidala said as she turned away from
the scene. "She will be buried a queen and a hero of the
Naboo, while I shall fade away into obscurity." She held
out her hand. "I'm ready."
"Senator," Nejaa said. "It is for the best."
"I know," she answered. "Do you know what is really
happening?"
Nejaa shook his head. "Kenobi didn't say much. I know he
and Colonel Arasta are out there hunting for the Sith Lord. And
that I have sensed a dark presence during our stay here."
He studied her carefully. "There is another presence too--one
that has steadily grown darker. You know this though."
She shivered. "I know." She tried to smile. "And
what scares me, is so few see the real danger." She ran her
hand over a larger piece of rubble, then wiped the dust on her
dark robe. "It's not the clones."
"I know," Nejaa said. "And from what Kenobi has
said, and not said, your children are the future." He motioned
toward what remained of the large doorway. "We do need to
be leaving. Ylenic waits for us at the ship."
"Thank-you," she whispered. "For everything."
She smiled as she felt one of the twins kick. The future...That
seemed so far away.
Lieutenant Loman relaxed. This wasn't something he did on a regular
basis, and almost never when flying a mission. But it was the
end of their patrol and he expected Commander Skywalker to be
ordering them back to the base ship soon.
Now, there was a strange character, he thought. The commander
definitely worked in his own galaxy. Flying-wise, the young man
could fly circles around every pilot Loman had ever met. Socially,
the man didn't seem to care. He'd earned the respect of his crew--but
he never attended any of the squadron functions. He'd tried to
socialize with the commander early on, but Skywalker always seemed
uninterested. And recently, being near his commanding officer
made him nervous. Which was laughable, Loman thought, he was four
or five years older than Skywalker. And bigger. Now, Skywalker
was brilliant--no question that his rank was well deserved. Never
mind what the Admiral's opinion was.
Brandel was an odd one too. So public in his antagonism about
Skywalker. He was an Admiral, all he had to do was transfer Skywalker
elsewhere, yet he didn't. Loman pondered that a second. Perhaps
there was some truth to the rumors that Skywalker was extremely
well connected.
He rubbed his forehead, as he felt the beginnings of another headache.
They were becoming more and more frequent--especially during battles.
The damn med-droids couldn't find anything wrong with him, and
the human doctors only dealt with severe cases.
He opened a channel. "Did anyone bring lunch?" His wingman,
Lieutenant Olm, laughed.
"Hungry already?"
"Sure am. Brandel forget us or something?"
"Who knows," Olm answered. "Hey! Wait. Look at
that." Loman stared as the Republic ships started to change
course and spread out. Several dumped their trash. "It looks
they're preparing to jump."
Loman changed frequencies. "Commander, is that what I think?"
"Yea. The bastard is leaving." Anakin tapped his intercom.
"Delta leader to base. You guys leaving us here?"
The voice of Brandel responded. "We've picked up a distress
call. I've ordered the fleet to investigate." There was something
in his tone that almost wanted to Anakin to say more. Anakin widened
his range with the Force. He could sense Brandel's anger at the
conversation--and his own squadron's wonderment at the Admiral's
bizarre decision. It was getting easier to contact the squadron
this way, probably because he was more familiar with their minds.
"And the convoy?" Anakin's eyes glanced toward the motley
collection of nearly a hundred transport ships.
"There is no danger."
"Sir, you do remember that our primary mission..."
"Commander, we'll discuss your attitude, later." The
link was cut as the ships jumped to hyperspace. Anakin glowered
after them.
"All squadrons we're on our own for the moment. Extend our
patrols by five kilometers." He glanced at the console. "Commander
Skywalker to convoy fleet."
"Commander," a voice said. "What happened?"
"Admiral Brandel is investigating a distress call."
Anakin considered reaching out with the Force and grasping the
Admiral's throat, while the other speaker managed about ten words
in Naboo that Anakin figured covered the situation. The Admiral
could wait, he decided as a familiar sensation in the Force swirled
about him. He gripped the rudder tighter. "We've got company,"
he shouted through the intercom."
"Where?" Loman said, then let loose a string of expletives
as clone ship after clone ship appeared.
"Prevent them from getting to the transports," Anakin
ordered as he hit the rudder, spinning his ship to the port. He
fired in rapid succession at the larger triangular-shaped clone
destroyer, before four clone fighters drove him off. If he survived
this, Brandel would pay. He gathered his anger around him. The
Force filled him as he in rapid succession blasted three clone
fighters. He banked sharply and strafed the bottom of the clone
destroyer coming in over him. A flick of the switch, and he fired
a proton torpedo straight into the bridge. He pulled away. In
less than three minutes the clone fleet had overwhelmed the few
fighters and were now starting on the transports. He clenched
his teeth as he accelerated. Three other clone destroyers were
heading for the heart of the convoy. "Jump," he shouted
instructions to the convoy. "Get the Hell out of here."
Several transports were already accelerating. The squadron just
had to protect them long enough for them to escape.
A quick roll and he found himself in position. He fired several
times in rapid succession, no longer seeing the fight with his
eyes. The Force controlled him as he sensed the enemy and their
weaknesses. He felt the terror of the refugees; but only as a
tool to further his own connection to the Force. Soon, he was
barely aware of them, his concentration and furor focused on the
clones, while all around him the convoy ships were being blown
up.
Then it was over. As suddenly as the clone ships had appeared
they jumped to hyperspace, leaving behind destruction and few
survivors.
Far away, a Dark Lord of the Sith smiled.
Kinman Doriana closed the feed from the Senate Hall, even though
the debate continued. It was taking longer than he'd expected,
he thought with a slight shrug. It always did. This time much
of the reason was caused by the return of the Corellian senator,
Garm Bel Iblis. Garm was too intelligent to fight the measure
out right, but he'd managed to convince enough of the senators
that the new title of emperor would have to have limits.
Fortunately they were listening, because Doriana himself was torn.
For almost two decades he'd served on Palpatine's staff. His military
experience, his background in intelligence--and what he'd once
thought were common goals had served him well.
He glanced back at the computer screen. Statistics were what a
loser used to justify his opinion. For every statistic supporting
one side, one could find a similar statistic supporting the other.
He'd believed that, but try as he might, he couldn't twist the
statistics he'd been studying to show that he was wrong. The numbers
were there. And there was definitely a pattern. Not that he particularly
worried that more alien worlds than human were being attacked
by the clones. The pattern that interested him was just how the
attacks correlated to other events. The recent increase in vicious
and devastating attacks and the debate in the Senate. Worlds leaving
the Republic were more likely to be attacked, by almost forty
percent, than those that remained.
Then there was how quickly the Alliance success rate had increased
when they'd cut contact with the Republic. He was the one who
had spread the original story that the Alliance theory about a
leak in the Republic high command was just a cover for their initial
leadership incompetence and inexperience. Now, he wondered.
Individually, the numbers represented just bad luck, collectively
they were more than troublesome. He hit the delete button, then
called up a security program. He wanted no evidence that this
data had ever been here. He entered his codes and tapped erase.
There would be nothing left--not even a stray electron--to show
that he'd sliced his way into these files.
Oh for the days when he'd been a simple military officer. Follow
and give orders. He knew what had to be done. He needed to speak
with Senator Bel Iblis quickly. He queried the computer for the
location of the senator. His face fell as he read the results.
Was it another coincidence? He couldn't tell anymore.
Garm Bel Iblis was on a transport. He'd been assigned to lead
the Republic Fleet in a coordinated attack with the Alliance against
the clones.
The young ensign forced himself to concentrate as he heard Admiral
Brandel behind him. "Check the environmental controls, ensign."
He quietly acknowledged the order, then set to complete the task.
There was still an air of shock at what the clones had done to
the convoy in their absence. He briefly wondered why the Admiral
was so worried about the temperature, when what was left of the
refugee fleet was in desperate need of their assistance. He almost
spoke up, but the sudden silence that descended on the bridge
stopped him. He heard the Admiral grunt and mutter something.
A second figure appeared in the reflection on his screen.
"Ah, Commander Skywalker." Brandel said louder. The
admiral hadn't bothered hiding his dislike of the commander, so
everybody on the bridge knew of that hatred. The power of their
anger; the sense of absolute fury emanating from the two people
behind him caused him to shiver and inch away. Before the admiral
could say anything else, he suddenly gasped three times and collapsed
on the floor. The ensign turned and started forward to help, but
something stopped him. The dying admiral writhed in agony as he
struggled to breathe, then he stilled. The ensign could hear his
own heart rate accelerate as he stood there, frozen, staring at
the body.
"That is the last mistake you'll ever make," Skywalker
said as he lowered his hand. The commander glanced around quickly,
before focusing on the ensign. "You, your name?" His
voice was low and still smoldered with uncontrolled fury.
"Ensign Pellaeon. Sir!" He snapped to attention.
"Inform Captain Tarkin that he is now in command." The
commander started to turn. "And inform the medics to take--"
He poked his foot into Brandel's side. "--this incompetent
fool away." He marched away; leaving an aura of cold anger
in the air. Pellaeon watched as a security officer stepped between
the commander and the lift door. The officer was tossed by unseen
hands against the far wall then Skywalker vanished into the lift.
Pellaeon tapped his comlink. "Send a medical team to the
bridge and inform Captain Tarkin that--" He thought a second.
"--that Admiral Brandel has suffered a seizure." He
turned quickly and addressed the bridge crew. "We still have
a rescue operation to complete. Continue with sensor scans and
salvage efforts." He glanced at the body and shook his head.
Brandel had been a fool.
There was a slight hesitation, then with one last wary look at
the lift, the crew returned to their work.
Baryl felt him stir beside her again and opened her eyes. When
he sat up, she reached out and touched his arm.
His voice was faint. "It's over."
She sat up, alarmed. "What? What's over? What has happened?"
"There's a disturbance in the Force..."
She would probably never get used to this confusing style of conversation
the Jedi were prone to, but she picked up on his agitation. "Something
bad."
He nodded. She glanced around the dark hold. Whatever it was,
it hadn't happened here.
He pulled his robe tighter as if to ward off the cold. "One
who serves both light and dark..." His voice faded away.
"Skywalker." She shivered.
"His anger has consumed him." Obi-Wan Kenobi pulled
a small gray satchel from under his robe and fingered the string.
"If anything happens to me, I want you to give this to Amidala."
"Happens to you? Stop being pessimistic." She stared
at the bag. "What is it?"
"Anakin's lightsaber. Please?" She nodded twice as realization
sank in. A Jedi didn't willingly give up his lightsaber or lose
it.
"We fought outside Mos Espa, what now seems a lifetime ago,"
Obi-Wan said, answering her unasked question. She then realized
that Obi-Wan would be facing his former apprentice again--and
knew it.
He gripped her hand tight in his, but his voice was far away.
"As Qui-Gon lay dying in my arms, I promised him that I would
train Anakin to become a Jedi knight. I failed. Now, I must correct
my mistake."
"Don't...Self doubt can also lead to this darkside,"
she said, wondering where the words came from.
"She's right," Mace said from the entrance to the cockpit.
"I felt it too. His anger was his undoing."
Baryl spoke calmly. "Everybody feels anger at some point
or another--even Jedi. It's not anger, but what you do with that
anger that turns you toward a dark path. Palpatine used Skywalker's
anger..." She frowned slightly as a pattern emerged. She
understood why eight months earlier Obi-Wan had been unwilling
to voice his suspicions about Y'mala. The planet had been destroyed
simply to anger one Jedi apprentice. Then she wouldn't have believed
it, now...She had learned and seen too much not to believe it.
"Now what?" She asked after several minutes of silence.
"We still have one chance of stopping him," Obi-Wan
said. "We must go to Spaarti." She preferred this slightly
more optimistic plan, even if his voice didn't carry much enthusiasm.
"Then we'll have to make sure we do a damn good job."
There wasn't much hope in her voice either. "But first, we
have to find it." She pulled at her clothes as she stood.
She looked forward to returning to the Alliance fleet and changing--a
rather insignificant thought considering recent events.
Kalla only glanced at the morning briefing, she didn't have to
read it--she knew too well what was in it. The usual well wishes
from the assembly; more on the continuing debate about funding
for the new theater; and then more about the budget deficit caused
by the war. The last few paragraphs were what worried her--the
Alderaan Assembly had formed a committee to study the issue of
rejoining the Republic. She knew it was pretty much a forgone
conclusion that they would--but not now. The Alliance just needed
time.
The goal was now more than just stopping the clones. Bail and
the Jedi wanted to make sure the Clone technology was completely
destroyed. They had put together a wild, desperate plan. She didn't
like the plan--neither did Bail. There were just so few options
left to the Alliance. She sighed as she started to read the report,
then tossed it aside. The Clone Wars had cost the galaxy too much:
too much blood, too much material, too much money. The galaxy
was ready for peace, no matter the cost. A call for rebellion
would be met by deaf ears. Working within the established government
was usually the best way to solve problems--and even though she
suspected this wouldn't work, civil war was a scary proposition--one
that could further divide the galaxy and would only bring more
death and despair.
The rest of the galaxy would have to understand the evil nature
of Palpatine before they could act. And that was a scarier proposition.
Obi-Wan smiled as he stepped into the Moons of Alderaan's docking
bay three. Elsewhere on the ship was the orderly chaos associated
with the preparation for battle, but here there was calm. Halycon's
small Corellian transport ship was one of only two ships here.
The other was a captured clone transport that Organa had reluctantly
given them for their mission. Apparently a 'convenient' major
electrical problem had made the bay unusable. He could sense Amidala's
presence as well as the two unborn twins. His smile grew as he
sensed their potential. He also sensed her two companions' approach.
"Hello, Kenobi," Halycon said.
"Master Halycon, Master It'kla..." The Caamasi Jedi
motioned for him to ignore the titles. "How is she?"
"Worried," Halycon said. "Scared...She had a rough
time..."
"Master Yoda wants her to go to Dagobah...Only I can't."
Nejaa raised his eyebrows slightly, then glanced at his friend.
"We shall take her." He crossed his arms and glared
at Obi-Wan. "There is much you aren't telling us..."
Obi-Wan nodded. "It will take far more than we have time
to tell."
It'kla smiled. "He is truly a Jedi. He speaks in circles."
The Caamasi's face saddened. "I watched her on Naboo. I have
sensed the growing darkness in the Force. You hope to expose Sidious
before it is too late."
"It may already be too late." He closed his eyes. "Amidala's
children...If I don't return, promise you'll protect them and
eventually teach them." It'kla stepped forward and gripped
Obi-Wan's hand.
"I promise. It is the oath of one master to another."
Obi-Wan glanced at the two masters. "Yes, you," It'kla
continued. "The tests you have and will undergo, only a Jedi
Master can complete. And if the Jedi Council still existed, they
would see the wisdom of my words."
Nejaa stepped forward. "I promise too, because I would hope
if something happened to me, someone would care for my son."
"Thank-you," Obi-Wan said, then made a decision. "Sidious'
new apprentice, is my former Padawan learner, the father of her
children."
"I thought I felt something," It'kla said. "The
young man she tried to contact on Naboo?"
"She wasn't supposed to. Did they?"
"No," Halycon said. "But perhaps she should have."
Obi-Wan wondered why--letting Anakin know that Amidala was with
child might have ended any hope for the future before it began.
Halycon continued. "Maybe seeing her could have prevented
this."
"And maybe destroyed her and the children," Obi-Wan
retorted. "Master," he tacked on hastily.
"No..." Halycon said as he looked back at his ship.
"The Force is not omnipotent."
It'kla spoke quietly, "We see a possible future--and yet
we don't know until too late if the steps we take will cause that
future or change it." The two other Jedi nodded. "We
must be going."
"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan said in parting.
"And you," Nejaa said.
Bail studied the trio carefully. "I can't convince you to
change your mind?" Since Kenobi had revealed their plan almost
a week ago, he'd tried several times to change their minds.
"No sir," Baryl said--he thought she sounded a bit reluctant.
"The ship is ready," Bail replied. The plan made sense,
he had to admit. It's just that he wanted the Jedi present in
the upcoming battle. He suspected some sort of trap...
The older Jedi spoke in quiet, measured tones. "It won't
be a trap."
Bail stared at Mace, then shook his head. "Then why has he
offered us this chance?"
Obi-Wan glanced at his two companions before speaking. "Because,
his plan is complete. He now wants to reunite the Republic under
one rule."
"Then we should remain apart and continue the fight..."
Bail knew better. The past eight months of war had wreaked such
havoc that the galaxy was tired of war.
The two Jedi nodded. "We must be as patient as he was,"
Obi-Wan said. "It is the only way that we can be successful."
"I know," Bail said angrily. "I just don't like
it."
"None of us do," Baryl said. "But finding Spaarti
may just help."
"Well, it would cut off his supply of clones." A flashing
red light on his desk caught his attention. "We're at the
rendezvous site."
"Senator Organa, sir," A voice cut in. "Senator
Bel Iblis sends his greetings."
"Patch him through." He glanced at Obi-Wan. "I
had hoped you would stay...But you'd best be ready." He watched
as they left, then hit his switch. "Garm."
"Hello Bail," Garm's voice said. "The Bothans have
outdone themselves. I'm on my way over."
"They found Spaarti?" He glanced at the closed doors.
"Not that lucky, I'm afraid."
Bail glanced out the port window. No, not that lucky. "I'll
have the command staff waiting." He cut the connection. What
he saw out beyond his own fleet was an impressive array of ships
and firepower. He shivered. The Republic had become even stronger
during the conflict than he'd imagined. The Jedi were right. Patience
was going to be a virtue that he would have to master if they
were to succeed.
Obi-Wan activated the sensors of their ship and groaned. Bail
had sent them the coordinates for the location of the Clone fleet
and he wasn't sure if he was surprised or not that the fleet was
actually there.
Baryl leaned over his shoulder. "I can't believe Palpatine
is willing to sacrifice this large a fleet...There must be something
else. No sign of it being a trap?"
"No," he said. "The Alliance and Republic fleets
are not flying into a trap." She looked at him. "The
fleet should be here soon."
"We're as ready as we can be."
He reached out and took her hand. "The Force will guide us."
She snorted as she sat down in the co-pilot's seat. "We'll
need more than that if the codes Organa gave us don't work."
"If they don't, we'll just have to improvise." Obi-Wan
knew they would work: Palpatine wanted them on Spaarti.
"Does this seem too easy?" She asked as she leaned back.
He stared at the viewport, trying to formulate an answer that
would be truthful, but not tell the whole truth, and failed.
"I see..." She pointed toward the screen. "They're
here." The combined Alliance and Republic fleets appeared
and the first clone ships exploded.
It would now get very interesting. Their goal was to get aboard
one of the clone destroyers--thus the stolen clone transport and
codes. Once onboard, they would wait for the clone ship to return
to Spaarti.
The only problem was that they had to do this in the middle of
a battle--with the all too real potential that both sides would
fire on them. "Well," he whispered, "if it was
easy, it wouldn't be a job for a Jedi."
He cautiously flew the ship straight into the fray. He barely
heard Baryl gasp as he let the Force flow through him, warning
him of danger and allowing him to dodge attacking ships. He guided
the ship toward one of the large triangular shaped clone destroyers.
The clones were preparing to retreat. He joined in with a convoy
of returning fighters. He shuddered several times as he was overwhelmed
by the presence of clones. "Send the transmission,"
he whispered.
"It's working," she replied--her hazy voice breaking
through the grip of the Force. "We're not being challenged."
He opened his eyes as their ship was swallowed by the larger one.
"Wow."
"It's huge," Obi-Wan agreed as he found a place to land.
No one seemed to pay them any attention as he shut-off the engines.
"Now we wait."
"And hope. I'm no longer sure I like this plan."
Obi-Wan smiled. "If you have a better one, please let me
know." He leaned over and kissed her.
"Sir," Threepio said behind them. "Artoo wants
to know if you want him to tap into the computer system."
"Not yet," he replied to the droid as he pulled away
from Baryl. "We haven't had much time together," he
whispered for her ears only.
She gripped his hands. "No, we haven't. But you're the one
who insisted on bringing the droids."
"They'll be useful." They were also a problem: they
knew too much.
"Sir," Threepio continued, but the arrival of the third
human stopped him. Mace smiled kindly at the couple as he guided
the droid back to the hold.
"There are times I don't understand human behavior,"
the tall droid muttered as he left.
Baryl chuckled. "We should get ready." Obi-Wan agreed
as he kissed her forehead.
Go to chapter 8 of A
Lost Hope
Return to Other Worlds Index