by Watson, Jude
He needed to see Granta Omega, too. Anger rose in him, anger that made him want to put his fist through a wall. Anger he must learn to accept and release.
Omega had his Padawan. His most dangerous enemy had his most treasured companion. And instead of helping to release Anakin, Yaddle was asking him to shepherd complete strangers back to their homes.
It was that thought that helped him. He was a Jedi. The needs of strangers were most important. His own needs meant nothing in comparison to theirs. Obi-Wan repeated the words again in his mind, this time with the compassion and power that they warranted. He had to bring strangers safely to their homes.
“All right,” he said to Yaddle. “But tell Omega that I will see him soon.”
“A threat that is,” Yaddle said sternly. “And so deliver it I will not.”
Obi-Wan rested his head against the wall again.
“Unless I have to,” Yaddle concluded.
Anakin stood, waiting for Yaddle. Omega was using tracking droids to make sure Yaddle came to each coordinate alone.
They were in one of the airlift tube stations, smaller than the one Anakin had used to come below only hours ago, though it felt like days. He guessed he was about twenty levels down, near the northeast quadrant of the tunnel system. If he had to find his way back to Obi-Wan, he might be able to.
“She’s following my instructions,” Omega said. “Smart.”
“What did you expect?” Anakin said. “She’s not afraid of you.”
“Yes, I can always depend on Jedi arrogance,” Omega said. “In an uncertain galaxy, it’s so comforting to have one thing you can count on. Tell me, Anakin. Have you thought about what I said? I’ll make the deal with Yaddle and we can go to Tatooine tonight. You could see your mother as early as tomorrow. I have a fast ship.”
“I didn’t need to think about what you said.”
“Ah, but you did think about it, I can tell. This is your last chance. I hate to be dramatic, but…” Omega shrugged. “Choose.”
“There is no choice,” Anakin said.
“Too bad. Your loss. Mine too, that’s the sad thing. Ah, the wee one approaches.”
Yaddle came toward them, her robe swinging with the motion of her walk.
“Thank you for coming,” Omega said courteously.
Yaddle studied Anakin for a moment. He saw her gaze rest on his stun cuffs, then move on. Her eyes met his, and he nodded to show her that he was all right.
“Understand I do that you have conditions, but willing you are to leave Mawan,” Yaddle said.
“Willing? Hardly. I have a good thing here,” Omega said.
“Choose to leave you may not, but warn you I must,” Yaddle said. “Hunted you will be, by Senate security forces. By midday, under our control Naatan will be.”
“Impressed with your speed I am,” Omega said, mocking Yaddle.
Yaddle did not show anger or impatience, yet Anakin saw something flare in her eyes, something very much like defiance. “And wish he did for me to tell you, Obi-Wan will meet you soon.”
Omega laughed. “I’m sure he did. I wish I could say I’m looking forward to it, but Kenobi puts me to sleep.”
“Waiting to hear your conditions I am,” Yaddle said.
“Let me start by telling you that I am in possession of a highly illegal bioweapon.”
Anakin felt his stomach twist. He remembered the fingers tapping out information. B I O P O N—Bioweapon! He should have put that together! And the next letters he’d glimpsed had been T O X…
“It is a simple device, really,” Omega went on. “Beautifully simple. Basically a canister packed with a powerful explosive. But the canister is filled with dihexalon gas. Are you familiar with it?”
“Toxic to life-forms, it is,” Yaddle said. “Deadly.”
“Good, then you know what we are dealing with. The canister has been loaded into this airlift tube. The detonator is controlled by a remote device that is not on me, but I can transmit the order in seconds. I know you’ve been leading the Mawans back to their homes on the surface. That’s Obi-Wan’s job, isn’t it? Pity they all will die.”
“You targeted Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, fury ticking beneath his words.
“No, your Master is just a bonus.” Omega eyed Yaddle. “You should know by now that I have bigger ambitions.”
Yaddle met his gaze. Anakin felt the Force stir. It seemed to rustle around his ankles, then move up his body, as if Yaddle was drawing it from the ground itself. He felt it like a physical sensation.
“Wish you do to kill a Council Member,” Yaddle said.
“I’m afraid so,” Omega said.
Anakin realized then that he was just a pawn in this struggle. Omega had used him. He had let himself be used. He had been so stupid!
“You must choose,” Omega said. “The lives of the Mawans—or the life of Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One.”
“Or my own life,” Yaddle said. “So many lives, you play with.”
“That’s my job. Those cuffs on Anakin’s wrists are not stun cuffs,” Omega said. “They carry enough of a charge to kill him.”
Anakin looked down at the cuffs on his wrists. He had done this. He had been the bait to lure Yaddle here. Omega had lied. He still wanted to impress a Sith. And what better way than to kill a Jedi Council member?
“Your death will be painless, Master Yaddle,” Omega said. “I’ll give you that. I’m not interested in giving you pain. Anakin will bring the news back to Obi-Wan. It will soon be known around the galaxy.”
“And the bioweapon?” Yaddle asked.
“That’s my insurance that I will get off-planet,” Omega said. “With my soldiers, with my equipment, with my wealth, with my records. But The One Below will remain below. I will seal your legend, Master Yaddle.”
The One Below will remain below…
Omega would have revenge on Anakin as well. Anakin would have to live knowing he had caused Yaddle’s death.
“So what do you—” Omega started.
The movement was so sudden and so fast that even Anakin couldn’t track it. Yaddle’s lightsaber was activated without him seeing her move so much as a finger. She used it in a surgical strike at his wrists. He did not have time to flinch, which was lucky, because she could easily have cut off his hands. Anakin felt only a flash of heat, as though he’d touched something hot and then pulled his hand away.
The cuffs clattered to the floor.
The cuffs, falling…
That was in his vision, too! But the cuffs hadn’t been on Shmi. They had nothing to do with Shmi. Obi-Wan and Yoda had been right.
“Launch it!” Omega screamed, then turned to Yaddle and added, “You have just ensured the deaths of thousands.”
Anakin realized in a flash that Omega must have had an open channel on his comlink. That had been an order. He heard the rush of air in the tube.
He only saw the flash of the hem of Yaddle’s robe as she Force-jumped toward the airlift tube. She pressed the maximum eject button with the hilt of her lightsaber as she passed. She burst into the airlift tube and shot upward like a blast from a laser cannon.
Omega was too stunned to move. Anakin didn’t hesitate. He jumped after Yaddle into the tube, pressing the maximum eject button as well.
The velocity was incredible. He shot upward to the surface so fast he lost his breath and his ears protested with a scream of pain. He shot out into a night sky that glittered with stars. The lights of the city were a blur as he passed them. He started to fall back down, the wind whistling past his ears. Only the Force saved him from an extremely bumpy landing. He called on it to slow his descent but still he landed hard, bending his knees and rolling with the impact.
He lay on his back, still dizzy, trying to catch his breath. Yaddle had not landed. He felt the Force so strongly it served to yank him to his feet. Again, it was like a physical presence to him, as though he could feel it on his skin and even in the roots of his hair.
Yaddle hung ab
ove him, above the tallest building of Naatan, the Force holding her temporarily aloft. She held a silver canister against her chest.
She was high above, but he heard her voice clearly. It was in his head, he realized.
If you lose your anger, find you it will. Embrace it and disappear it will. Chosen, you may be. But for what? Your question to answer, it is.
He barely registered her words. A terrible certainty was growing. And then everything was suddenly clear to Anakin, as clear as the hard-edged stars. He realized what Yaddle was about to do.
“No!” he shouted. But he could already feel it. Yaddle was drawing in the great net of the Force she had created, drawing it around her so tightly and fiercely and strongly that Anakin fell to his knees. He had never felt the Force move like this. He couldn’t speak or move.
From far below, Granta detonated the explosives. Anakin heard a sharp pop, nothing more. The Force grew until Anakin was dazzled. Instead of exploding, the canister imploded, and Yaddle drew the toxic gas and the explosive power in, absorbing it into her body.
Then she simply disappeared. A shower of light particles swirled, hung in the air, then evaporated.
Anakin’s face was wet. Tears flowed and he did not feel them. The night sky was empty, and Jedi Master Yaddle was dead.
Chapter Twelve
Anakin sat, staring at the ground. He did not feel time passing. Somewhere in his mind he knew he should find a comlink, find a way to contact Obi-Wan, but the thought was distant and he did not pursue it.
Yaddle was dead. He knew it, but he couldn’t grasp it. A member of the Jedi Council, a wise being so practiced in the Force that she was a legend. A being whose strength and wisdom the Jedi needed in these times. She had sacrificed herself for him. Because he had seen a thermal detonator too late. Because he had been captured. Because he had been tricked. A chain of events had brought him to this moment. At any time he could have changed his course. Instead he had blundered on.
She had saved him first, then gone after the bomb. Anakin puzzled over that. She had risked thousands of lives for his. Why?
Chosen, you may be. But for what? Your question to answer, it is.
Was that why she had saved him?
If that was the reason, he could not bear the responsibility. Her death was his fault.
A pair of dusty, muddy boots appeared. Obi-Wan crouched down.
“Something terrible has happened,” he said. “I felt the Force surge, and then retreat, like a vacuum. Tell me.”
“Master Yaddle is dead,” Anakin said, his voice muffled.
Obi-Wan breathed in, absorbing his shock. “How?”
Anakin told him the story in a neutral tone. If he added his feelings to the telling, he would not be able to finish.
Obi-Wan was silent for long moments. He sat back on his heels and looked up at the sky.
“She went below for me,” Anakin said. “She saved me first. If I hadn’t been captured…”
“Stop.” It was Obi-Wan’s sternest tone. “Jedi do not go down the path of ‘ifs.’ You know that, Anakin. You choose in each moment what your next step will be. You do not look back in judgment.”
Obi-Wan stood. “Yaddle made the only choice she could, and she made it freely.”
Obi-Wan reached down. Anakin’s lightsaber was in his hand.
“We will mourn her, but not now. Now it is time to be a Jedi.”
Anakin took the lightsaber. He rose and tucked it into his belt. His Master’s words should have made Anakin feel better, but they hadn’t. They had almost seemed automatic, as though Obi-Wan didn’t really mean them.
Even Obi-Wan thought Anakin was responsible for Yaddle’s death.
Sorrow and guilt filled him up so far he felt he was drowning.
And then there was an explosion of light and sorrow…He had lost, in fact, everyone he loved, including Obi-Wan.
The vision had been right.
Chapter Thirteen
Obi-Wan contacted Yoda on the emergency channel. He hated having to be the one to break the news. He would bring Yoda great pain. He felt the pain himself, in the way his body moved like lead. He had barely been able to summon up the right words to say to Anakin, and he knew his words had not reached him.
All he could think of was Yaddle. She had been part of his life from his earliest memory. She had taken special delight in the young Jedi students. She had turned a blind eye to their pranks. She had hidden sweets in their pockets. Her touch on the top of his head had felt like the most comforting thing in the world.
And then he had grown, and things at the Temple had become more serious. There were hard lessons to learn. Yaddle had been there, in a different way. There had been so many times when he had knocked respectfully on her door with a problem he did not want to trouble Yoda with. Obi-Wan realized how exceptional it was that a member of the Jedi Council had allowed herself to be so available to every student. Obi-Wan had not been the only one to seek her counsel, to look for comfort there.
He had lost something so precious. It had been a part of his life for so long he hadn’t seen it clearly. Yaddle had just been there, with her quiet wisdom. It was almost as bad as losing Yoda would be.
He gave Yoda the details quickly, knowing he would want to hear everything.
Yoda’s voice was liquid with sorrow. “Felt the Force move, I did. Know I did that she was gone. Prepared my transport for Mawan, I already have. Her work, we must carry on. May the Force be with us.”
They hadn’t slept since Coruscant, but there was no time for sleep. With Yaddle’s death, the fragile coalition she had formed threatened to fall apart. News of the bioweapon had spread, and the Mawans were close to panic. If Granta Omega had a weapon that devastating, who could say that he did not have another?
Within hours, the Senate went back on their pledge to send a security force and sent word that they would await further developments. They would not commit an army to an unstable situation.
Anakin dropped his head in his hands at this news. “Isn’t the instability the point? That’s why we need them!”
Obi-Wan sighed. “Yes, but if the security force is beaten by crimelords, the Senators are afraid it will look bad for them. Their image is more important than Mawan’s security.”
“What can we do?” Anakin asked.
“That’s the simple part. Present them with an easy win,” Obi-Wan answered. “The hard part is setting that up. Granta Omega has become our biggest problem.”
“He would be happy to hear that,” Anakin said.
They sat in a small office in the makeshift command center the Senate Provisional Committee had set up. Now that the power grid was functioning, they could monitor the streets through a system of security cams set up around the city. Many had been smashed, but some were still functioning, enough to give them a sense of what was going on. The streets were eerily quiet. Criminal activity had either retreated into buildings or gone underground. The sun was just rising, penetrating the gray with a blush of pink. Obi-Wan wished he felt as hopeful as the scene painted.
Euraana Fall entered, her face pale with fatigue and worry. “Feeana Tala is close to deserting the city and pulling her patrols. She doesn’t think we can hold the city against an attack by Omega.”
“That means the city will be left without security,” Anakin said.
“Which means everyone will retreat belowground again, and we’ll be back where we started,” Euraana said, lowering herself into a chair. She bent forward to lean her forehead against her clasped hands. She closed her eyes. “I’m hoarse from talking and reasoning. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been in communication with the Senate representative. He refuses to reconsider the decision to pull back the Senate security force.”
“I will speak with him,” Obi-Wan said. “And I’ll handle Feeana as well. Let’s go, Anakin.” It seemed a great effort to haul himself out of his chair. Obi-Wan felt the fatigue deep in his bones. “We’ll grab some food on the way,” he said
to Anakin, and saw the boy’s face brighten slightly.
They headed to the café on the second level. Once it had served the many Mawans who had flocked to the hall for music and lectures, and its extensive stoves and cooling units spoke of the array of foods that had once been offered. Now the shelves were bare. At least there was hot tea and a tray of muja muffins.
Anakin picked one up. “Stale,” he said, disappointed. “Why do the bad guys get all the good food?”
Obi-Wan held up his tea. “That’s what dunking is for. Another Jedi lesson for you.”
Anakin tried to smile. It was the first light moment they had exchanged since Yaddle’s death. But a moment later, Anakin’s face darkened again.
Something is very wrong, Obi-Wan thought. It wasn’t just the aftermath of Yaddle’s death. Why was it that whenever he needed to talk to his Padawan, circumstances got in the way? There was always a mission to complete, and then, these days, as soon as they were done, there was somewhere else important to go, another crucial battle to fight.
Across the empty tables Obi-Wan spied Feeana Tala, slumped over a mug of tea. This was a bit of luck. He could approach her informally. Sometimes that was better when you were trying to hold on to a deal. It would be easier to ensure the Senate’s support if he could be sure Feeana would not fold.
Feeana looked as tired as Euraana had. She waved Obi-Wan off as he approached. “Go away.”
Obi-Wan sat down, summoning up a cheerful smile. He motioned Anakin to do the same. He dunked a piece of muffin into his tea. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Don’t bother with the pleasantries,” Feeana said. “I know why you’re here. You’re going to tell me that my cooperation is essential in holding the city. You’re going to say that as a Mawan I owe it to my home planet. You’re going to say that if I take my gang and retreat belowground that eventually I’ll be imprisoned.” She stirred her tea moodily. “I know all those things. But I’ve got my soldiers out on the streets, and there’s not enough of them to hold the city against Striker—or Omega, as I hear his name is. What am I supposed to do? Send them to their deaths?”
