pronker

Part Thirty-One

"Yes, we are Jedi and we represent the Republic, but we are a very small part of the Republic," Obi-Wan began, putting the flowers out of his mind.

"Our Order is involved with the Republic's fate, but has its separate governing body, just like your Congress. The relationship is ... complex. Both the Jedi and the Republic stand together in this: we are for democracy, rules by elected leaders. We hope you will join us."

The Council isn't elected, Master. It's all who you know, in this case, the Force, if it can be characterized as a "who." But I don't think it can. Anakin stood when Ry-Gaul did. "Obi-Wan, I'll hotfoot it back to the cruiser for your --- "

ching-wheep! ching-wheep!

Ry-Gaul turned aside. "Excuse me." He plucked his comm from a pocket inside his right boot. "Present. Yes. Bad? How high? Fairly well. I'll see. Put him on ... oh, he can't. Ah, ah, Ry-Gaul out." Ry-Gaul lost whatever bonhomie had graced him these last few days. "Tru's had a relapse. He's feverish, calling for me." Ry-Gaul's strong features more resembled his reserved nature from their other missions together. Obi-Wan had considered him a bit cold before Trow, but now he thought that Ry-Gaul was as deep as Gitchy.

Tru's worse? "You should return, Master Ry-Gaul. Master and I have things under control here."

Ry-Gaul looked startled at Anakin's speaking first. He spoke only to Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan. I'll give my statement on a holovid. It ought to add some weight to your argument."

"Certainly you may go. And Ry-Gaul, thank you for everything. Padawan, I want you to go over your speech in your mind. Use a holovid to record yourself to see how you sound, if need be. And get Ry-Gaul's copy of the Ohma-D'un vid ready, just in case. Bring it back here."

"Do you expect to have to use it? Makes me sick to watch it."

Another clue to Ry-Gaul's character. "No, I don't. It's a last ditch strategy. Oh, and Ry-Gaul, do you have any spare boots, clogs, anything that could possibly fit us on board?"

"Yes, I recollect there's a bin for lost and found. Sometimes when we transport delegations without their entourages the pols get a little groggy and forget things. I'll see." Ry-Gaul was already striding his long strides out of the courtyard and down the block, forgetting the Jedi farewell to Obi-Wan. Anakin hurried after him.

At the spaceport, fewer than thirty ships were docked. Ry-Gaul slapped the ramp control and he and Anakin boarded, getting directly to business. The cruiser was a non-descript forty-two meter long nonentity, something that Anakin could have modded in his sleep. "Ahem," he said into the holorecorder. "Padawan Skywalker here. I support whatever my Master and Master Ry-Gaul say. The End." He played it back. His voice was as nondescript as the cruiser, but he was all right with the notion that he would never have his Master's mellifluous tones. At Congress, he would be the last to speak, possibly answering a few questions. These Trow people didn't seem the garrulous sort. Good. Tru's the only talkative one I want to be around. Tru. He saw that Ry-Gaul had finished his deposition and was rummaging in a cubic meter-sized bin, throwing belts and a cluster of tiaras onto the floor. "Master Ry-Gaul, is Tru bad off?"

"It's not fatal, it's just unexpected. He's never been this ill before. I want to be there, and as you said, it's under control here." At the bottom were extra sets of human/humanoid size underwear, some unmatched socks, a dinner jacket fitted for someone the size of a Phlog, and three pairs of soft boots. Two looked decently fitting, one pair slightly too large for Obi-Wan, but smaller than comfortable for Anakin, and the other too large for Anakin. But workable. Ry-Gaul placed the Ohma-D'un vid and his holorecording into Anakin's hands with alacrity as he walked him down the ramp. The two paused at its foot.

"Privacy is allowed, Anakin," Ry-Gaul said. "Keep your private things private."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Anakin could barely speak. Ry-Gaul was being kind, but he suspected something.

"I mean that touching your Master twice today without a thought for the Respect-for-Master's-Authority release, almost speaking out of turn in the Green Room --- "

--- yeah, that's real rebellious, that is ---

" --- and the flowers --- Anakin, don't do anything that you'll regret."

Ry-Gaul wasn't accessing the Force for intimidation, but Anakin remembered Grunbi's interview that morning and it was enough to compress his voice, his heart into watchfulness. Am I giving off signals? Would he pick them up, Force or not?

"Think about your Master. Think about yourself. You are important just as you are."

Master needs me just as I am.

"You need Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan, from what I know of him through the years" --- Ry-Gaul smoothed the liquid sheen of the Jedi cruiser's outer skin and did not look at Anakin --- "needs to be needed." The tall master's lips curved in a tiny smile. "So take care. I can't imagine what's gotten into me on Trow. I'll be back to normal on Coruscant." He looked sideways at Anakin. "And I'll be quiet again. About everything. May The Force Be With You."

"Tell Tru to get well soon. May The Force Be With You." Anakin took the spare boots, each pair of which wouldn't quite fit, and returned to the Presidential Villa.

The river sank.

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Part Thirty-Two

Obi-Wan knew that he was going to have to show the Ohma-D'un holovid today when Anakin handed him the boots and said, "Master, I'm sensing that their minds are closing fast." Obi-Wan knew that he had failed today and perhaps for good in this mission when, back in the Congressional chambers, the Ohma-D'un holovid of unspeakable atrocities did not make a single Congressmember lose his lunch. Throughout scenes of Gungans gasping for a final breath or gurgling even more unintelligible speech than usual, when eyestalks imploded and viscid tongues melted from sagging lips, when kneecaps separated from twitching thighs, the Billaqori observed in silence. As the recording finished, President Strenghis asked one question. "What did your Republic do to provoke this?"

Obi-Wan masked his surprise at their bland attitude. He himself had almost fainted when opening to the Living Force on Ohma-D'un and perceiving the pernicious blot of the Separatists' new level of outrage. "Ohma-D'un had done nothing but be in the Galaxy at a time of supreme warfare." He felt almost as dizzy now as on that sickening day. This was heading in the wrong direction, this was escalating out of control.

"I see." Strenghis said nothing more and the silence lengthened. The clerestories admitted a late afternoon glow that turned the smooth wood in the chamber from amber to a dark honey color, similar to Anakin's hair. Anakin plucked the holoprojector from its place on the speaker's platform, switched it off, and stood in rigid amazement at his Master's side. How can they not be affected? Only by breathing deeply had he soothed his nausea, layering his mind with pleasant memories of Naboo and of sweet Padmé. Naboo's grandeur should not have to exist in close proximity to her soiled moon, Ohma-D'un. It was beneath her dignity.

"Mr. President, I stand upon the Republic's integrity, and my own since I have seen firsthand these awful things, in saying that the Gungans and the spice miners on this moon did no wrong. But perhaps you need to hear someone else. Padawan."

Anakin stepped on the platform and blurted out the first thing on his mind. "Don't be afraid of the Republic. Be afraid of the Separatists." Fear and withdrawal, that's what they're doing. Plus their leader has a lot of gall. "I was on Ohma-D'un, also, sirs, and madams, too, of course, and in many other encounters with the Separatists since then, and well, the Republic may not be perfect --- "

Padawan!

" --- but it's the right way to go here. You can ask me questions, if you want to."

Will charm succeed where debate has not? Obi-Wan still didn't know as he and Anakin trudged to their inn after dismissal an hour later. Tomorrow's session could be disastrous. He had not one idea left to persuade them. Strenghis was the keystone and his misguided protection of his home could doom his planet. The two Jedi avoided eye contact with the inn's staff and with each other as they clumped up the stairs and entered the room. The shutters were closed and the beds made neatly enough. They both had no appetite for dinner beyond the single piece of sweesonberry-lookalike candy left on each pillow and plumped down wearily on each of the beds.

Guess I'll take the single now. No need to crowd Master. I wish it were a longer bed, though. Of all the events in the past week, Anakin found himself pondering his dream. And the mysterious dream-purpose. Talking about it would take Obi-Wan's mind off today's proceedings.

"Master."

"Mmmmm?"

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"I slept exceptionally well, thank you. And you?"

"Not quite. I can only remember one dream out of it, though."

It must be a dilly for him to recall it. "Tell me about it, Anakin."

The river paused.

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