by Karen Miller
Taria? Are you there?
He felt the Force stir, sluggish.
Taria. So it hadn’t been a dream. Taria. But something was wrong. At least, more wrong. She felt drained, and full of pain. Worried for him.
I’m still breathing. Taria—
He felt what she wanted to do: Force-sprint her way through the massed droids and into the village. It was precisely the kind of mad plan Taria would dream up. And it just might work, but he’d need Anakin’s help.
Seeking him in the Force, flinching at the physical cost of even so small a use of it, he found his former apprentice on the other side of the village, replacing a length of wiring in Shield Generator Three.
One look at him and Anakin was scowling, furious. “Obi-Wan? What are you doing? You swore you’d—”
“Be quiet,” he snapped. “Taria’s here and she needs to get in. If you power down Generator Seven, just for a moment, I’ll hold off the droids.”
Anakin stared at him, his face thin enough now to be the face of a stranger. “You’re not kidding. Right. Guess I’ll come back to this.”
They pushed themselves into a jog and followed the shield perimeter to Generator Seven. For the first time in days, Obi-Wan looked at the droids on its other side. Thirty of them in this section, steadily blasting away. He felt a hot rage rise.
Anakin glanced at him. “I know.” Then he peered through the shield and past the droids. “I can’t see her, Obi-Wan. Or feel her. Are you sure Master Damsin’s—”
“Quite sure. Stand by the generator.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin murmured, and did as he was told.
Centering himself, Obi-Wan pulled his lightsaber from the inside pocket of his filthy, tattered shirt and ignited the blade. Clean blue light sliced through the bombardment’s red glow.
Taria? Here.
He felt her energy burst through the Force, heard Anakin’s swiftly indrawn breath as he felt it, too. And then there was a chatter of mechanical alarm and battle droids were flying pell-mell into the air, Force-pushed like so many unwanted dolls.
Now, Obi-Wan! Now!
“Now, Anakin,” he said, and braced himself, lightsaber lifted.
Anakin cut the generator. First came a whining growl; then a section of plasma barrier collapsed. The scattered droids regrouped and opened fire.
“Obi-Wan!” said Anakin. “Let me—”
“No,” he said, knocking blaster bolts aside to left and right. “Stand by that shield!”
He felt Taria Force-sprinting toward him, but he still couldn’t see her. She must’ve been way behind the lines. Another eruption of droids. She was pushing and sprinting, the crazy woman.
Hurry, Taria, hurry. I can’t hold them much longer.
His lightsaber felt so heavy. He’d used up nearly all his strength in the sick house, poured it into the bodies of the men and women and children he didn’t want to die. Vision smearing, he heard Anakin curse, felt a sting of pain in him.
“It’s nothing, it only singed me! Obi-Wan—”
“I know, I know,” he gasped, struggling to stay on his feet, fighting to deflect the barrage of laser bolts. “She’s nearly here—nearly—”
Then he saw her, stumbling out of her Force sprint into ordinary running, all her strength used up, just like him. Full of desperate intensity, just like him. Taria, who shouldn’t be here… and somehow was.
As she crossed the shield perimeter a blaster bolt caught her high in the back. She cried out and went down hard, skidding face-first across the dirt and grass.
“Taria!” He dropped his lightsaber and lunged for her. “Anakin, get the shield up!”
But Anakin didn’t need telling. Generator Seven was already humming back to life, a fresh flow of plasma particles resealing them inside the village. Then at the last moment a cloud of mosquito droids slipped through the swiftly closing gap and descended on them in a swarm.
“I’ve got them!” shouted Anakin. “You look after Taria!”
On his knees beside her, Obi-Wan watched as Anakin snatched up his dropped lightsaber with one hand and ignited his own weapon with the other. The twelve mosquitoes attacked—and within heartbeats he’d slashed them all to scrap metal.
Obi-Wan turned back to Taria, so still on the cold, hard ground—and his relief surrendered to a raw and shocking grief.
No, no, not like this. It’s too soon. Taria—
“Hold on,” he begged her. “I’m with you. Don’t go.”
He felt Anakin close behind him. “Obi-Wan, is she—”
His fingers were pressed to the pulse in her throat. He felt her blood, moving. Felt his eyes sting. “No. She’s alive.”
Groaning, Taria half rolled over. “Don’t worry,” she wheezed. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. The bodysuit’s a present from Senator Organa. Experimental. New energy-dispersal fabric. I’m a little singed, but not perforated.” Another groan. “Help me sit up.”
Obi-Wan slid his arm beneath her and lifted. When she was upright she let out a long sigh, then smiled at him. “Why, hello there, handsome. What’s a nice boy like you doing on a backworld like this?”
Pent-up rage and terror exploded through him. “Taria—”
“Don’t shout at me, I’m slightly wounded,” she said, then smiled past him at Anakin. “Greetings, Master Skywalker. Or can I call you Skyguy?”
Anakin dropped to one knee, still holding both deactivated lightsabers. “Call me anything you like, Master Damsin, provided you tell us what’s going on.”
The air boomed and echoed as the thwarted droids emptied their blasters against the plasma barrier. Eyebrows raised, Taria stared at them.
“Tell me that shield’s going to hold, first.”
Obi-Wan looked at Anakin. “It’ll hold.” He took back his lightsaber and tucked it into his shirt. “Taria, please. What are you doing here?”
“The very short version?” She winced, easing her right shoulder. “Durd’s compound’s destroyed. His stockpiles of bioweapon are gone with it, blown to smithereens.”
“What about Durd?” said Anakin.
“The barve’s still in one piece,” she said. “He wasn’t there.”
Anakin’s disappointment was palpable. “Then where is he? And where’s his pet scientist Doctor Fhernan?”
Obi-Wan tried to check the blaster-hit in Taria’s back, but she pushed his hand away, impatient. “Durd’s somewhere on Lanteeb. As for Bant’ena Fhernan—I’m sorry. She’s dead.”
“Dead?” Anakin stared at her. “You blew her up with the compound?”
Taria’s face was full of sorrow. “No, she blew herself up. Anakin, all she cared about was making sure you and Obi-Wan were safe. And—she wanted to make amends.”
Obi-Wan exchanged glances with Anakin, then sighed. “So, you left the explosives with her and came after us? Taria—”
“It was her choice, Obi-Wan. I honored it.”
Of course you did. Taking her hand, he checked the thready pulse in her wrist. “We’ll talk about it later. What else is—”
“There are more droids on the way,” Taria said grimly. “With a lot of ammunition. My guess is they’re right behind me.”
“Stang,” said Anakin, and pressed fingertips to his eyes. “Master Damsin, you picked the wrong time to make a house call.”
Still holding Taria’s hand, Obi-Wan could feel the bright hot pain of the blaster hit. And there was something beneath it, something darker and deeper… ruthlessly devouring her.
Oh, no.
“Obi-Wan,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s all right.”
No, it wasn’t. But his grief and anger would have to wait. “Tell us the rest.”
He and Anakin listened in growing alarm as she filled them in: Chandrila and the widespread panic following the attack, how Mace Windu’s battle group was hopelessly outnumbered, and how one of the greatest scientists in the Republic couldn’t create an antidote to Durd’s bioweapon.
“There’s s
ome kind of missing biosequence,” she said. “That’s what Yoda said, anyway. Something to do with neutralizing the raw damotite. I don’t really understand it. All I know for certain is that Doctor Netzl is stuck. We’re all stuck and—” The look on Anakin’s face stopped her. “What?”
Anakin’s eyes were fierce. “Obi-Wan—are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Chapter Twenty
OBI-WAN NODDED, THE FIRST HOPE HE’D FELT IN DAYS STIRRING to life. “Sufi’s herbs. It’s possible. At the very least it has to be helpful, surely. Anakin—”
Anakin turned to Taria. “Did you bring a comlink?”
“Of course,” she said, frowning. “And we need to contact Master Windu on Indomitable, tell him—”
“What kind of comlink?” Anakin demanded. “Can it transmit bio-info?”
Taria fished in her bodysuit pocket. “I think so. According to Ban-yaro it can practically fly a ship on its own.”
Obi-Wan took the comlink from her, and inspected it. “We must get to the sick house. Not just for you, Taria. There’s something Bail’s scientist friend needs to know.”
“You’re not making any sense,” she said, puzzled. “Did you get hit by a blaster bolt?”
“No. Come on. Can you stand?”
“Of course I can,” she snapped, pushing him aside. “I’m not—oh.”
Ravaged with disease, her strength depleted, she couldn’t get up. And there was no way he could carry her, not even using the Force. Neither could Anakin. They were both simply too tired.
“Wait here,” said Anakin, shoving his lightsaber into his shirt pocket. “I’ll go find an antigrav sled.”
As he vanished into the darkness, Taria looked at the droids on the other side of the shield. They were still firing their blasters. “Don’t they ever give up?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “Sadly, no.”
“That’s aggravating. No wonder you’re tetchy.” She patted his knee. “Hey. Sorry to be such a bother.”
A bother? He tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Don’t be silly. Taria, let me see that blaster burn.”
She took his hand between both of hers. “In a moment.” Reading him, her eyes widened. “Obi-Wan.”
Even if he’d wanted to hide from her, he couldn’t. His self-control was too far eroded, his carefully constructed inner barriers smashed flat. And she was… who she was. She could feel every pain in him, sense every overstretched nerve and sinew.
He made himself meet her shocked gaze. “Don’t scold. I had no choice.”
Letting go of his hand, she stroked her fingers down the side of his face, tracing every hollow and sharp thrust of bone. “I could smack you.”
“And I could smack you right back. Taria, why did you come?”
“Somebody had to.” She tried to smile at him, and failed. “Obi-Wan…”
The pain in her was growing fiercer. What it had cost her, to make this journey. “How did you fool the Separatists?” he said, to distract her. “Get through Grievous’s blockade and into the city?”
The question provoked an unexpected snuffle of amusement. “That was all Master Yoda’s doing. He’s awfully sneaky, you know. With a little help from your friend Senator Organa and some Five Hundred First pilots, I staged a daring gauntlet run of our Republic battle group in a genuine Sep ship, appeared to sustain serious damage, then staged a crash landing not far from Durd’s compound. Tragically, I didn’t survive.”
Now it was his turn to stare. “You stashed a body in the ship?”
“Yes.” She frowned. “D’you know, if he wasn’t so charming I think I might find Senator Organa a bit… creepy.”
Bail had arranged it? My friend, I am sorry. “Taria, I wish Yoda had sent someone else.”
“There was no one else,” she said. “Things are bad out there, Obi-Wan.” Then she pulled a face. “Mind you, they aren’t looking too cheerful in here.”
“That’s because they’re not,” he said—and to his shame, he heard his voice break.
“Stang.” She sighed. Her arms went around him, pulling him close. “What a mess.”
“Don’t,” he protested. “I’m all right. And we must contact Master Windu and—”
She tightened her hold. “Master Windu can wait till we’ve something definite to tell him. Hush now. Hush. You’re so tired. Hush.”
He felt something deep inside him break. Hiding his face against her, he let himself go.
STUNNED, ANAKIN STOOD IN the shadows and watched Taria Damsin comfort Obi-Wan. Watched how she held him, how she stroked his hair and rubbed his back, her hands moving, her voice a soft, ceaseless murmur. He saw how Obi-Wan surrendered to her voice and her touch, how unguarded he was within her embrace.
They’re lovers. Or they were. He never told me. I never guessed.
Lost in each other, they were oblivious to the droids—and to him.
All those lectures about not needing anyone, about the importance of staying emotionally detached? And look at him. Look at him. He’s drowning in her. He loves her.
And what did it mean? That everything Obi-Wan had said was a lie? That he was living a lie, denying his feelings, enforcing the Order’s ban on love not because he believed in it, but because he wasn’t strong enough to defy it?
It felt like a betrayal. It was a betrayal.
Padmé.
Saying something, his low voice indistinct, Obi-Wan eased himself free of Taria Damsin’s arms. Then he cupped her face with his hand, and kissed her lightly on the lips.
Cold to his core, Anakin kicked the antigrav sled into motion and with a whining of servos pushed it forward. “Sorry to take so long,” he said, crossing into the pale pool of light cast by the plasma shield and the generator. “You know how it is. Couldn’t find a sled I liked.”
Obi-Wan stood, his face carefully blank. “Anakin.”
“We should get moving,” he said, guiding the sled closer. “I have to get back to checking the generators—and Devi’s going to need a break soon.”
Obi-Wan slid Master Damsin’s comlink inside his shirt. “Yes. Of course.”
Between them they helped her onto the sled and returned to the sick house, where Teeba Sufi stared at them, astonished.
“A new patient?” she said, unable to hide her dismay. And then she saw the lightsaber at Taria’s hip. “Another Jedi? Where did she—”
“I’ll explain everything later, Sufi,” said Obi-Wan, easing Master Damsin onto a cot. “Is there still some greensickness medicine left? All I need is a drop. A smear will do. It’s very important.”
Teeba Sufi’s lips pinched tight. “Why do you want it? There’s not enough to waste, Teeb.”
“Sufi, I promise—this won’t be a waste,” said Obi-Wan. “Please.”
“All right,” Teeba Sufi said grudgingly, and withdrew to the cupboard at the back of the room.
Obi-Wan pulled out Master Damsin’s comlink. “It’s secure?” he asked her.
Deathly pale, she nodded. “And priority coded for Master Windu.” As Obi-Wan flipped the comlink open, she shifted her gaze. “Anakin? Are you all right?”
This wasn’t the time or place to talk of love and lies. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
He hadn’t fooled her. “Yes,” she murmured. “I can see that.”
The comlink crackled, a secure channel established.
“Indomitable, this is Kenobi,” said Obi-Wan. “Do you copy?”
“Obi-Wan, this is Mace Windu. What’s your status?”
Anakin closed his eyes. For once it was good to hear Master Windu’s deep voice.
“We’re holding on, but our grip is fast slipping,” said Obi-Wan. “Durd’s droid army will break through our defenses very soon. Master, Taria Damsin’s reached us and has explained the situation. We might have an answer to Doctor Netzl’s dilemma. Stand by for a biotransmission.”
“Standing by,” said Master Windu. Not even distance and decades of severe Jedi training could keep the suppressed excit
ement from his voice.
Turning, Obi-Wan looked at Teeb Sufi, who was hovering behind them with an almost empty bottle of herbal muck in her hand.
“Thank you, Sufi. Anakin—”
He took the bottle from her, unstoppered it, and with enormous care dripped a little of the foul stuff onto the fancy comlink’s bioscan plate. The comlink hummed, then beeped. Obi-Wan hit the transmit switch.
“Got it,” said Master Windu. “Patching it through to the Temple now.”
“Tell Doctor Netzl that whatever the active ingredients are, they’ve proven effective in counteracting damotite poisoning.”
“Will do,” said Master Windu. “Obi-Wan, I won’t mince words—we’re getting pounded up here. Without more ships we won’t break Grievous’s blockade. I don’t know if we’ll get to you before Durd’s droids do.”
“Understood,” said Obi-Wan. “Durd’s weapon is destroyed. That’s what matters.”
“We’re not pulling out yet, Obi-Wan,” Master Windu retorted. “So sit tight. And let me speak to Master Damsin.”
Taking the comlink, Taria Damsin cleared her throat. “Master Windu.”
“I ordered you to lay low until we could arrange an extraction.”
“Yes, Master, you did.”
“Now I’ve got three potential Jedi hostages in play.”
“Master Windu, none of us will let it come to that.”
“Taria—”
“Mace, I’m sorry,” she said. “But did you really think I was going to turn my back on them?”
Anakin felt his eyebrows lift. Mace? He looked at Obi-Wan, who shrugged. His face and eyes were guarded. He knew, oh yes, he knew, that his former apprentice was displeased.
“Master Windu,” Master Damsin added. “We’re all right. You focus on Grievous. And when this is over you can shout at me in person.”
“Bet on it,” said Master Windu. “Indomitable out.”
Anakin looked again at Obi-Wan. “I’ve got to go.”
“I know,” said Obi-Wan. “Taria, give me a moment. Sufi?”