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"Do you think Obi-Wan's learner will be able to bring balance to the Force?" Mace asked.
Yoda stopped walking and slowly turned to regard the other Master, his expression showing a range of emotions that reminded
Mace that they didn't know what bringing balance to the Force might truly mean. "Only if he chooses to follow his destiny," Yoda
replied, and as with Mace's question, the answer hung in the air between them, a spoken belief that could only lead to more uncer-
tainty.
Both Yoda and Mace Windu understood the places that some of the Jedi, at least, might have to travel to find the true answers,
and those places, emotional stops and not physical, could well test all of them to the very limits of their abilities and sensibilities.
They resumed their walk, the only sound the patter of their footsteps. In their ears, though, both Mace and Yoda heard the omin-
ous echo of the diminutive Jedi Master's dire words.
"Only by probing the dark side can we see."
Chapter Eight
The door chime was not unexpected; somehow, Padme had known that Anakin would come to speak with her as soon as the op-
portunity presented itself. She started for the door, but paused, and moved instead to retrieve her robe, aware suddenly that her
nightgown was somewhat revealing. Her movements again struck her as curious, though, for never before had Padme Amidala
harbored any feelings of modesty.
Still, she pulled the robe up tight as she opened the door, finding, predictably, Anakin Skywalker standing before her.
"Hello," he said, and it seemed as if he could hardly draw his breath.
"Is everything all right?"
Anakin stuttered over a response. "Oh yes," he finally managed to say.
"Yes, my Master has gone to the lower levels to check on Captain Typho's security measures, but all seems quiet."
"You sound disappointed."
Anakin gave an embarrassed laugh.
"You don't enjoy this," Padme remarked.
"There is nowhere else in all the galaxy I'd rather be," Anakin blurted, and it was Padme's turn to give an embarrassed little
laugh.
"But this . . . inertia," she reasoned, and Anakin nodded as he caught on.
"We should be more aggressive in our search for the assassin," he insisted.
"To sit back and wait is to invite disaster."
"Master Kenobi does not agree."
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"Master Kenobi is bound by the letter of the orders," Anakin explained. "He won't take a chance on doing anything that isn't
explicitly asked of him by the Jedi Council."
Padme tilted her head and considered this impetuous young man more carefully. Was not discipline a primary lesson of the Jedi
Knights? Were they not bound, strictly so, within the structure of the Order and their Code?
"Master Kenobi is not like his own Master," Anakin said. "Master Qui-Gon understood the need for independent thinking and in-
itiative-otherwise, he would have left me on Tatooine."
"And you are more like Master Qui-Gon?" Padme asked.
"I accept the duties I am given, but demand the leeway I need to see them to a proper conclusion."
"Demand?"
Anakin smiled and shrugged. "Well, I ask, at least."
"And presume, when you can't get the answers you desire," Padme said with a knowing grin, though in her heart she was only
half teasing.
"I do the best I can with every problem I am given," was the strongest admission Anakin would offer.
"And so sitting around guarding me is not your idea of fun." "We could be doing better and more exciting things," Anakin said,
and there was a double edge to his voice, one that intrigued Padme and made her pull her robe up even tighter.
"If we catch the assassin, we might find the root of these attempts," the Padawan explained, quickly putting the discussion back
on a professional level. "Either way, you will be safer, and our duties will be made far easier."
Padme's mind whirled as she tried to sort out Anakin's thoughts, and his motivations. He was surprising her with every word,
considering that he was a Jedi Padawan, and yet, given the fire that she clearly saw burning behind his blue eyes, he was not sur-
prising her. She saw trouble brewing there, in those simmering and too-passionate eyes, but even more than that, she saw excite-
ment and the promise of thrills.
And, perhaps, the promise of finding out who it was that was trying to kill her.
Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped off the turbolift tentatively, warily, glancing left and right. He noted the two posted guards, alert and
ready, and he nodded his approval to them. Every corridor had been like this throughout the massive apartment complex, and in
this particular area, above, below, and near Amidala's room, the place was locked down tight.
Captain Typho had been given many soldiers at his disposal, and he had situated them well, overseeing as fine a defensive peri-
meter as Obi-Wan had ever witnessed. The Jedi Master took great comfort in that, of course, and knew that Typho was making his
job easier.
But Obi-Wan could not relax. He had heard about the attack on the Naboo cruiser in great detail from Typho, and considering the
many precautions that had been taken to protect the vessel-everything from broadcasting false entry lanes to the appointed landing
pad to the many shielding fighters, the three accompanying the ship directly, and many more, both Naboo and Republic, covering
every conceivable attack lane-these assassins could not be underestimated. They were good and they were well connected, to be
sure.
And, likely, they were stubborn.
To get at Senator Amidala through the halls of this building, though, would take an army.
Obi-Wan nodded to the guards and walked a circuit of this lower floor then, satisfied, headed back to the turbolift.
Padme took a deep breath, her thoughts lost in the last images of Anakin as he had left her room. Images of her sister Sola flitted
about her, almost as if she could hear Sola teasing her already.
The Senator shook all of the thoughts, of Sola and particularly of Anakin, away and motioned to R2-D2, the little droid standing
impassively against the wall beside the door. "Implement the shutdown," she instructed. R2-D2 replied with a fearful "oooo."
"Go ahead, Artoo. It's all right. We have protection here." The droid gave another worried call, but extended a probe out to the
security panel on the wall beside him.
Padme looked back to the door, recalling again the last images of Anakin, her tall and lean Jedi protector. She could see his shin-
ing blue eyes as surely as if he was standing before her, full of intensity, watching over her more carefully than any security cam
ever could.
Anakin stood in the living room of Padme's apartment, absorbing the silence around him, using the lack of physical noise to bol-
ster his mental connection to that more subtle realm of the Force, feeling the life about him as clearly as if his five physical senses
were all attuned to it. His eyes were closed, but he could see the region about him clearly enough, could sense any disturbance in
the Force.
Anakin's eyes popped open wide, his gaze darting about the room, and he pulled his lightsaber from his belt.
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Or almost did, stopping fast when the door slid open and Master Kenobi walked into the room.
Obi-Wan looked about curiously, his gaze settling on Anakin. "Captain Typho has more than enough men downstairs," he said.
"No assassin will try that way. Any activity up here?"
"Quiet as a tomb," Anakin replied. "I don't like just waiting here for something to happen."
Obi-Wan gave a little shake of his head, a movement showing his resignation concerning Anakin's predictability, and took a
view scanner from his belt, checking his screen. His expression, shifting from curious to confused to concerned, spoke volumes to
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