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Chapter 13 - Destinies Meet, Part II
As the water spraying from the showerhead above her streamed across her body, Alia let her hands run along her chest, the tips of her fingers, tracing along the edges of the smooth, shiny new scars she’d gained. The skin above her right breast was slightly rough and uneven, a reminder of her blaster wound. / As if I’d need one, / Alia thought wryly. The roughness would remain: she knew from past experience that her body’s healing factor only allowed for the wound itself to heal, but a scar would form nevertheless.
Her hand moved itself across her chest to trace the raised scar from Jorda’s surgery. / He’s a good man, / she mused, her thoughts growing warm at the thought of the attractive doctor. / Kind and considerate to his patients. Gentle…very sweet. Not bad-looking, either. / A snort of derisive laughter interrupted her brooding, before shortly becoming a groan as her body caught up with her mind. A slow tendril of heat began to coil in her belly as she took her hands from her breasts. / That was the wrong thing to think, Alia! /
Placing her head upon the cool glass of the ‘fresher unit, the sweat forming upon her forehead glistened in the steam. / Get a grip on yourself, woman. And not that kind of grip! It’s not as if he’s as good-looking as Obi-wan, anyway. / A sudden hiss escaped her lips as her breasts puckered even more at the thought of the handsome Padawan. A low moan of frustration escaped her control as she felt her body respond to her thoughts. Swearing out loud, Alia jabbed violently at the panel controlling the water temperature, turning the spray frigid in seconds.
“Breathe, Alia; breathe. You can’t do this,” she told herself, locking her arms in place beneath the freezing water. Clenching her jaw, she gasped through gritted teeth, “You’ve got enough problems as it is.”
After a time, her breathing calmed as her lungs adjusted to the sudden cold, and this time when her skin pebbled with goose-bumps it was in response to the chill. Feeling suddenly tired, she slowly reached for the water control once more, and with a twist of her finger cut off the frigid spray. Chilled and suddenly fatigued, Alia stretched out for one of the large towels hanging from the wall.
Alia was not looking forward to the meeting with the Jedi Council, despite Anakin’s alternating excitement and dread. Toweling her hair, she dried herself off briskly, habit moving her forward when her mind wanted to linger in the ‘fresher. She’d thought of lying to the Council, but had just as quickly discarded the idea. It would almost be cathartic to let it out. Almost.
Reaching for the air control, she switched on the air cycler, and felt its steady pull begin to remove the humid air from the ‘fresher unit. Her body already slightly cool from the change in water temperature, it took her only a few moments to pull on her synth-vin traveling pants, the only ones not stained from her travels. These were followed by a cream-colored shirt that fitted snugly against her body, its clinging sleeves reaching just past mid-bicep on each arm. It was an old one, made for her on Dysis. She had other ones, but for some reason, she felt the need to have something from her adopted family when she went before the Council.
“Alia, are you ready yet?”
Suppressing a grin, Alia called out in answer, “I don’t know, Anakin. Wanna come in here to find out?”
She heard a muffled squeak of embarrassment, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. Pulling her hair back and tying it with a piece of cord, Alia smiled at her reflection. For someone so mature on some things, her new friend seemed as awkward as any nine-year boy about dealing with girls. Giving herself one more cursory look in the mirror, she opened the door and walked outside.
Anakin was sitting by the window, his knees drawn up to his chest, his wide eyes following the traffic outside.
“What’s the rush?” Alia asked, reaching for her utility belt that had been placed on the adjoining sofa.
“I wanted to say goodbye to Padmé before we left.”
At his soft voice, Alia stopped fastening the belt around her waist, and looked at Anakin for a few moments. A wide grin suddenly split her face.
“You like her, don’t you?” she crowed, her eyes flashing with laughter as she finished strapping on the belt.
Anakin hunched his shoulders defensively, refusing to look at her.
“I just wanted to say goodbye to her. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. A Jedi can’t have feelings for anyone.”
“Oh, Anakin,” Alia said, her mirth disappearing as she walked to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “I think you’ll find that Jedi care very much for the people around them. Despite what the Code, Anakin, Jedi have feelings, too. The same as you or me. They just hide them better, that’s all.”
He nodded half-heartedly at her, and Alia shook him lightly.
“Come on,” she teased, “Let’s go see your lady-love.”
At the blush staining Anakin’s cheeks, Alia laughed again, glanced at Jar Jar sprawled on the couch, then back to Anakin.
“Besides,” she whispered conspiratorially, “I don’t think he’ll miss us, do you?”
Her attempt at humor worked; Anakin laughed and pulled himself to his feet. He was glad Alia was coming with him. Jar Jar was alright, but he was too funny to be taken seriously most of the time. With Alia, he knew the guards would let him see Padmé.
In the end, though, they woke up the sleeping Gungan, and all three of them left the apartment in search of the elusive handmaiden.
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Something was different…he could feel it. There was a presence within the Force that he could sense…a latent power calling out to him, the Master Lord of the Sith. He drew his mind inward, focusing his attention on the energies around him. A roiling mass, the Force on Coruscant was muddled and tangled, the abundance of life both good and evil doing much to hid his presence from the Jedi in the Temple. He waded through the teeming body, taking its power as it suited his desires, looking for the disturbance in the Force.
At last, all at once, the Sith could see two points of power amidst the other life-forms on Coruscant; two stars shining so brightly that they caused the Force-signatures of all those around them to be cast in shade. His mind instantly hungered for them, for their power, desiring to take it and make it his own. This cast a new light on his plans.
Focusing his senses on their Force-signatures, he followed them to their position, and was pleasantly surprised to find them in the Queen’s section of the Senate guest quarters. / This will make things easier. / He was determined to discover the identities of these two stars in the Force, and make them his own.
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Qui-Gon and Obi-wan met them at the Queen’s apartments, after a somewhat successful search for Padmé: Anakin was able to say goodbye, just not in person. As they walked together to lift station, Alia noticed Obi-wan’s annoyed looks thrown over his shoulder to Jar Jar, who kept craning his head around them in awe. She didn’t blame him: not even the trees in the oldest parts of the swamp were as large as some of the buildings.
Once their lift arrived and they were crammed together in its small space, Alia discreetly positioned herself between the younger Jedi and her amphibious friend. Anakin noticed the movement, and turned his gaze to her: her blue eyes seemed dim, and there seemed to be a blanket of sadness around her. He debated about asking her outright what was wrong but decided against it. Instead, he decided to watch her. Sometimes you had to watch a person in order to know how to approach them.
He watched her as they stepped into the waiting air taxi, watched her as they exited, and watched her as they climbed the stairs just outside the Temple. He watched her as they entered the Jedi sanctuary, passed the foyer waterfall where Jar Jar sat down to wait for them, and watched her as they walked up the stairs to where they entered another turbolift. Ignoring the view, Anakin watched her until the lift doors opened and they began to walk down the hall.
“Alia…why are you sad?”
Anakin’s sudden question caught her off-guard, and made her glance quickly at the Jedi. Despite Obi-wan’s stony glare, it was obvious that the question had captured their attention as well. Sighing a little, she turned her eyes back to Anakin. His own an innocent blue, his concern for her was transparent.
“You go on ahead,” Alia said quietly to the Jedi, “Anakin and I will catch up in a minute.”
“We do not have time for this,” replied Obi-wan.
Alia felt a stab of annoyance at his brusque reply.
“Then I’ll make time, Kenobi, and you can go on ahead,” she snapped angrily, her eyes flashing to his, glaring at him.
Qui-Gon was silent for a moment, then glanced at the irritated expression on her face.
“We will wait for you,” he said, “Come, Obi-wan.”
Anakin looked on as Alia watched them go. Turning back, she smiled, and his heart skipped a beat, like it had when he’d first seen Padmé. Bending to one knee, Alia placed her hands on her thigh and looked into Anakin’s eyes for a moment. He was concerned for her, that was obvious, but he was also brimming with impatience to hear what the Council had to say, and his impatience amused her.
Smiling slightly, she asked him in a low voice, “Do you remember the story I told you? The one with the little girl?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “The one about Cadis?”
“Yes,” answered Alia, “Well, today I have to speak with the Council about her, about how her people lived after meeting the Jedi, about the things that happened.”
“You mean the story was real?”
“Oh yes, Anakin, very real. Didn’t you believe me when I said I’d grown up with her?”
“Not really,” he mumbled, “I thought it was something you’d made up.”
The boy hung his head slightly, and Alia chuckled.
“Are you afraid?” Anakin asked suddenly, his eyes searching her face.
A slight catch of her breath was all Alia allowed to show of her surprise at the ease with which he had seen through her laughter.
Grinning slightly, she shrugged, saying, “Of the Council? No; I’m afraid of what they might do, of what they might ask. What if they want to know who her father is? How can I give away such a secret?
“Jedi aren’t allowed to have children, Anakin; it’s against their Code,” she explained patiently, her eyed sad, “I’m afraid that they won’t listen to me when I say that he didn’t break it, that when he left, he forgot what had happened. I’m afraid they’ll take away his powers, his connection to the Force.”
“Why would they do that?” asked Anakin, wide-eyed.
“To make an example of him, of what happens when you break the rules, if you aren’t a good little boy and do what you’re told,” Alia replied, her voice hard and her eyes distant, “Cadis would never forgive herself if she knew her father had everything stripped from him that made him who he was simply because she existed.”
“Then why are you going?”
The question brought her up short, and the feelings of buried resentment and bitterness dissipated as she considered her answer. She couldn’t tell him the whole truth, not yet anyway, but Alia had never lied to a child before, and Tatooine would freeze before she started now.
“Because something Qui-Gon said convinced me that her father would want to know the truth, despite the consequences,” Alia replied carefully.
He seemed to accept her answer, though the contemplative look in his eyes had not disappeared; neither had his apprehension. Pulling away from her own fear, she smiled reassuringly to him.
“But this has nothing to do with you, Anakin. Here,” she said, holding out a hand, “I know I’ll feel better with something to hold on to.”
Grinning again, the boy took her hand and, once she stood, Alia walked with him to where the Jedi and their Council waited.
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