A Small Thing
Sep. 3rd, 2008 07:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrilI confess that I'm inclined to hurry through the Episode I stuff (which I haven't worked out all the details of yet - yikes!) and get on to Episode II&III. But hopefully I'm not making too short shrift of things here...
Cautiously, Anakin opened the vent in the wall and gazed around the hanger. Empty. Nothing but the remains of battle droids. His heart beat a little quicker just at the memory of what he had seen. Even with his view partly blocked by the vent, it had been thrilling, better than his wildest dream.
“I think it's safe now,” he said, beckoning to Mistress Surali. She was miserable and cramped in the tiny vent, and sitting behind Anakin, she hadn't been able to see the wonderful, amazing things that he had. Frowning painfully, she crawled toward him and followed him out of the vent.
“They've gone,” she said in surprise as he helped her to the ground. “Why are the battle droids gone?”
“It was Jedis,” Anakin said breathlessly. “Two of them, with laser swords.”
“Two Jedi,” his teacher corrected him, absently. “And they're called light sabers. But what were two Jedi doing here? Are you sure that's what you saw?”
“Of course they were Jedis – Jedi.” His eyes swept the hanger, recalling every detail. “One of them went over there.” He pointed to the first pile of broken-up battle droids. “They had the pilots captured there. His sword – his saber went 'slash, zoom, slash' and cut them to pieces! The droids, I mean, not the pilots. And the other one was with the queen –” He had never seen her this close before, at least, not as the queen; if it really was Padmé like he thought, and he was more sure of it than ever now that he'd seen her –
“With the queen?” Mistress Surali said, her face changing, looking more hopeful. “They came to rescue her?”
“They were taking her to Coruscant,” Anakin explained. “The other Jedi said so. Then 'zoom!' He cut through the droids guarding the ship, and they all ran on board, and flew away!”
“Amazing.” Mistress Surali sat on a metal box like her legs couldn't hold her up anymore.
“But we can't stay here,” Anakin said, his excitement fading a little into worry. “I'm sure there are lots of other battle droids in Theed now. They'll come find us.”
His teacher had that frightened look again that made her somehow older and younger at the same time. “How do we get out of here?”
“I don't know,” he shrugged. “But we'll figure out something. I'm pretty good at finding my way around.”
“If it were anyone but you saying that,” Mistress Surali said with an odd smile, “I would say you were being overconfident. You, though....you have abilities I've never seen before.”
Checking first, carefully, that the hallway was completely empty, Anakin started forward. It was a little strange, with him being the student and her the teacher, but she was glad to follow as he led. And somehow he knew the way.
--
“An extremely well-put together little droid, Your Highness.”
Padmé was pleased to note that Captain Panaka directed his words at Sabé, pretending to ignore her in her handmaiden's clothing. So far no one seemed to suspect, and the fewer people who knew, the better.
“Without a doubt it saved the ship, and our lives,” Panaka was saying. “Thank to its quick repairs, and the work of the new backup shield generator, we evaded the blockade's attacks, and we're safely on our way to Coruscant.”
“It is to be commended,” Sabé said, her voice admirably close to Amidala's. “What is its number?”
“R2-D2.”
“Thank you, R2-D2. Padmé,” she said, making Padmé start. It had been months since she had heard someone speak her own name rather than her assumed title. Meek and unassuming, she looked to Sabé. “Clean this droid up as best you can.” Her decoy and friend was smiling slightly, probably taking a little enjoyment in giving the queen orders. “It deserves our gratitude.”
Padmé nodded but waited. If anything more was spoken to Sabé, she needed to hear it as well.
At a nod from Panaka, one of the Jedi, Master Qui-Gon, stepped forward. “Your Highness, while we are traveling to the capital, I advise you not to send any transmissions, not even to your Senator. I sense a great deal of danger surrounding you, and we did not leave it all behind when we escaped the Federation's blockade.”
Padmé's skin felt cold. Danger, even past the Federation's reach? She had felt similarly uneasy when Qui-Gon spoke of something else behind all this on Naboo. That unease had compelled her to go to Coruscant, though she hated the cowardice of abandoning her people. But apparently even her flight from Naboo had not dispelled the ominous something that troubled the Jedi Master. And she could not doubt his perceptions. Just before she left to clean up the droid, Qui-Gon's eyes fell upon her with a very knowing look.
Highly conscious of her secrets, Padmé hurried off, the astomech droid trundling along beside her.
The Artoo unit was largely undamaged, just quite filthy. She wasn't particularly skilled in cleaning mechanical things, but she did what she could with a rag and some lubricating oil. “Brave little droid,” she murmured, thinking that Anakin would probably know what to do far better than she did. She had left him and every other innocent behind on Naboo...
R2-D2 let out a soft, low whistle, and she patted his dome.
“Hidoe!”
Padmé looked up, startled. It was a tall, orange-skinned being, with a snout or beak that was currently spread in an apologetic smile. Had he come along with the Jedi? Her disjointed memories offered no answer; most of what had happened on Naboo was a blur. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. She had the feeling he was the sort of person who was often apologizing. “Whosa are yousa?”
“I'm Padmé,” she answered, finding it was something of a relief not to deal with a formal royal introduction.
“Mesa called Jar Jar Binks.”
“You're a Gungan, aren't you?” She had never seen one, but she had been well educated about their appearance, their culture – at least what was known of it – and their contempt for the Naboo.
He nodded. There was no contempt evident on his face. Perhaps she was misreading his alien expression, but she doubted it. This Gungan seemed as anxious to please as anyone she had ever met.
“How did you end up here with us?”
Jar Jar started off on a rambling, bewildered explanation, from which Padmé gathered that he had been unwittingly swept up in something far beyond his capacities.
She knew how he felt.
--
They made it. It had been close, very close, but they made it. They had been just footsteps away from entering a hallway when Anakin hesitated, feeling like they should stay back for some reason. The next moment, battle droids marched down that hallway. They didn't notice the two people crouched around the corner, but that wouldn't last long. After the droids had passed, Anakin grabbed his teacher's hand and hurried down the hall to a small staircase, which led to another hall, which finally brought them to a door.
Outside it wasn't much safer. There were battle droids everywhere, marching from one place to another. Some of were forcing around groups of people – not pilots or important people from the palace, just regular people. Anakin's hands were tight on the doorway. Padmé would be so sad to see this.
“Herding civilians around like animals?” Mistress Surali was just as horrified. “I can't believe the Federation thinks they can get away with this.”
“They won't,” Anakin said. “The queen will do something about it.”
“I hope so.” His teacher didn't seem quite as confident. “I'm sure she'll do everything she can, but the Galactic Senate isn't as....reliable as it ought to be. Why do you think the blockade happened in the first place?”
Anakin's head was starting to cloud like it always did when people talked about political things. “She'll do something,” he insisted. “She has to.”
Mistress Surali just nodded. “In the meantime, what are we going to do?”
“Keep away from the battle droids. And find a way to help Naboo.” Anakin watched another group of frightened-looking people go by, pushed forward by droids, with blasters pointed at their heads. One of them, a woman with a light blue dress just like Mom had been wearing that morning, made him gasp.
“Mom!”
“She could very well be in one of those groups,” Mistress Surali said somberly. She seemed to know just what he was thinking. “I agree, it's terrible, Anakin, but you can't think to try to rescue her. It looks like the droids are taking the Naboo to camps to keep them under control. Your mother would probably be in more danger if you tried to get her away.”
His teacher was right, and he knew it, but he hated it. “Let's see if we can get to my house,” he said, trying to be hopeful. “Maybe she's still there.”
He didn't know what he would do if she were gone.
Cautiously, Anakin opened the vent in the wall and gazed around the hanger. Empty. Nothing but the remains of battle droids. His heart beat a little quicker just at the memory of what he had seen. Even with his view partly blocked by the vent, it had been thrilling, better than his wildest dream.
“I think it's safe now,” he said, beckoning to Mistress Surali. She was miserable and cramped in the tiny vent, and sitting behind Anakin, she hadn't been able to see the wonderful, amazing things that he had. Frowning painfully, she crawled toward him and followed him out of the vent.
“They've gone,” she said in surprise as he helped her to the ground. “Why are the battle droids gone?”
“It was Jedis,” Anakin said breathlessly. “Two of them, with laser swords.”
“Two Jedi,” his teacher corrected him, absently. “And they're called light sabers. But what were two Jedi doing here? Are you sure that's what you saw?”
“Of course they were Jedis – Jedi.” His eyes swept the hanger, recalling every detail. “One of them went over there.” He pointed to the first pile of broken-up battle droids. “They had the pilots captured there. His sword – his saber went 'slash, zoom, slash' and cut them to pieces! The droids, I mean, not the pilots. And the other one was with the queen –” He had never seen her this close before, at least, not as the queen; if it really was Padmé like he thought, and he was more sure of it than ever now that he'd seen her –
“With the queen?” Mistress Surali said, her face changing, looking more hopeful. “They came to rescue her?”
“They were taking her to Coruscant,” Anakin explained. “The other Jedi said so. Then 'zoom!' He cut through the droids guarding the ship, and they all ran on board, and flew away!”
“Amazing.” Mistress Surali sat on a metal box like her legs couldn't hold her up anymore.
“But we can't stay here,” Anakin said, his excitement fading a little into worry. “I'm sure there are lots of other battle droids in Theed now. They'll come find us.”
His teacher had that frightened look again that made her somehow older and younger at the same time. “How do we get out of here?”
“I don't know,” he shrugged. “But we'll figure out something. I'm pretty good at finding my way around.”
“If it were anyone but you saying that,” Mistress Surali said with an odd smile, “I would say you were being overconfident. You, though....you have abilities I've never seen before.”
Checking first, carefully, that the hallway was completely empty, Anakin started forward. It was a little strange, with him being the student and her the teacher, but she was glad to follow as he led. And somehow he knew the way.
--
“An extremely well-put together little droid, Your Highness.”
Padmé was pleased to note that Captain Panaka directed his words at Sabé, pretending to ignore her in her handmaiden's clothing. So far no one seemed to suspect, and the fewer people who knew, the better.
“Without a doubt it saved the ship, and our lives,” Panaka was saying. “Thank to its quick repairs, and the work of the new backup shield generator, we evaded the blockade's attacks, and we're safely on our way to Coruscant.”
“It is to be commended,” Sabé said, her voice admirably close to Amidala's. “What is its number?”
“R2-D2.”
“Thank you, R2-D2. Padmé,” she said, making Padmé start. It had been months since she had heard someone speak her own name rather than her assumed title. Meek and unassuming, she looked to Sabé. “Clean this droid up as best you can.” Her decoy and friend was smiling slightly, probably taking a little enjoyment in giving the queen orders. “It deserves our gratitude.”
Padmé nodded but waited. If anything more was spoken to Sabé, she needed to hear it as well.
At a nod from Panaka, one of the Jedi, Master Qui-Gon, stepped forward. “Your Highness, while we are traveling to the capital, I advise you not to send any transmissions, not even to your Senator. I sense a great deal of danger surrounding you, and we did not leave it all behind when we escaped the Federation's blockade.”
Padmé's skin felt cold. Danger, even past the Federation's reach? She had felt similarly uneasy when Qui-Gon spoke of something else behind all this on Naboo. That unease had compelled her to go to Coruscant, though she hated the cowardice of abandoning her people. But apparently even her flight from Naboo had not dispelled the ominous something that troubled the Jedi Master. And she could not doubt his perceptions. Just before she left to clean up the droid, Qui-Gon's eyes fell upon her with a very knowing look.
Highly conscious of her secrets, Padmé hurried off, the astomech droid trundling along beside her.
The Artoo unit was largely undamaged, just quite filthy. She wasn't particularly skilled in cleaning mechanical things, but she did what she could with a rag and some lubricating oil. “Brave little droid,” she murmured, thinking that Anakin would probably know what to do far better than she did. She had left him and every other innocent behind on Naboo...
R2-D2 let out a soft, low whistle, and she patted his dome.
“Hidoe!”
Padmé looked up, startled. It was a tall, orange-skinned being, with a snout or beak that was currently spread in an apologetic smile. Had he come along with the Jedi? Her disjointed memories offered no answer; most of what had happened on Naboo was a blur. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. She had the feeling he was the sort of person who was often apologizing. “Whosa are yousa?”
“I'm Padmé,” she answered, finding it was something of a relief not to deal with a formal royal introduction.
“Mesa called Jar Jar Binks.”
“You're a Gungan, aren't you?” She had never seen one, but she had been well educated about their appearance, their culture – at least what was known of it – and their contempt for the Naboo.
He nodded. There was no contempt evident on his face. Perhaps she was misreading his alien expression, but she doubted it. This Gungan seemed as anxious to please as anyone she had ever met.
“How did you end up here with us?”
Jar Jar started off on a rambling, bewildered explanation, from which Padmé gathered that he had been unwittingly swept up in something far beyond his capacities.
She knew how he felt.
--
They made it. It had been close, very close, but they made it. They had been just footsteps away from entering a hallway when Anakin hesitated, feeling like they should stay back for some reason. The next moment, battle droids marched down that hallway. They didn't notice the two people crouched around the corner, but that wouldn't last long. After the droids had passed, Anakin grabbed his teacher's hand and hurried down the hall to a small staircase, which led to another hall, which finally brought them to a door.
Outside it wasn't much safer. There were battle droids everywhere, marching from one place to another. Some of were forcing around groups of people – not pilots or important people from the palace, just regular people. Anakin's hands were tight on the doorway. Padmé would be so sad to see this.
“Herding civilians around like animals?” Mistress Surali was just as horrified. “I can't believe the Federation thinks they can get away with this.”
“They won't,” Anakin said. “The queen will do something about it.”
“I hope so.” His teacher didn't seem quite as confident. “I'm sure she'll do everything she can, but the Galactic Senate isn't as....reliable as it ought to be. Why do you think the blockade happened in the first place?”
Anakin's head was starting to cloud like it always did when people talked about political things. “She'll do something,” he insisted. “She has to.”
Mistress Surali just nodded. “In the meantime, what are we going to do?”
“Keep away from the battle droids. And find a way to help Naboo.” Anakin watched another group of frightened-looking people go by, pushed forward by droids, with blasters pointed at their heads. One of them, a woman with a light blue dress just like Mom had been wearing that morning, made him gasp.
“Mom!”
“She could very well be in one of those groups,” Mistress Surali said somberly. She seemed to know just what he was thinking. “I agree, it's terrible, Anakin, but you can't think to try to rescue her. It looks like the droids are taking the Naboo to camps to keep them under control. Your mother would probably be in more danger if you tried to get her away.”
His teacher was right, and he knew it, but he hated it. “Let's see if we can get to my house,” he said, trying to be hopeful. “Maybe she's still there.”
He didn't know what he would do if she were gone.
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