TheBridge

Veers turned, and was not completely surprised to see General Skywalker approaching with purpose. He too straightened and saluted.

“General,” he said calmly. “What—”

“Follow me, Veers,” Skywalker ordered curtly. “We’re on a time crunch.”

Veers blinked, but was not one to stand gaping like a gorm fish.

“Travis, take over,” he said, striding to catch up with Skywalker who was headed toward the nearest lift.

Once they entered, the General met his inquiring gaze, blue eyes intense.

“We’re going off ship,” he said curtly. “We need to meet with some contacts and there is only a short window of time to do so. Pack a kit for several days, Colonel. Speak to no one about this and meet me in hangar 12.”

“Yes, sir,” Veers answered, brain whirling.

Sola glanced at the map on the datapad, then slid it back into the pocket of her long jacket. They were on course to reach the valley by dawn. There they would need to maneuver a bit to blur the trail in the rocky areas of the dry stream bed before following it down further.

They likely had two hours before the sun’s arrival. She appreciated the grey of early morning as it was easier to mark their terrain, but equally it was easier to see them.

Firmus had not spoken much, and she was certain he was grimly enduring by this point. He was as determined as she was to put significant distance between themselves and the Capitol.

Sola allowed herself to take comfort in his presence once more. Surely, the Force would not have sent her a man such as this only for them to fail? She had to believe Padme was still alive. Her Uncle would have declared himself as the official ruler with great ceremony if she was dead.

It hurt to think of what her sister must be enduring—-alone and a prisoner somewhere. She wondered briefly about Colonel Veers. Had he reached safety?

“Here, duck in here!” he told her, guiding her as carefully as he could while they ran.

Padme panted and groaned, holding her large stomach with the other hand as they ducked under the heavy stone into a small cave.

The best that could be said about it was that it was dry. There was no other comfort but stone and dirt here.

But that was apparently all she would have to welcome her babies with.

“Firmus—-” she began, just as another contraction hit and she doubled in agony. “Hguhhhn!”

“What can I do?” he asked urgently. “I’m so sorry, Padme. Tell me what I can do to help you best.”

She scanned the small interior and pointed to the flattest place she could see.

“There. Help me sit. And…” she paused to breathe, “...I need something other than dirt beneath me for the babies.”

Dear Sir,

Hmm. That sounds so very formal.

Greetings Lieutenant? I don’t care all that much for that address either.

It’s difficult to know how to begin a letter to you. I rather feel that after one has gone through the experience of saving someone’s life and subsequently spent weeks on a voyage in their company, surely there should be less formality?

Dear Firmus.

I like that and I think I shall stick with it. Also, it is much easier to write than ‘Lieutenant Piett’. I hope you don’t mind.

The weather is beginning to turn here and it makes me wonder if you are sailing in balmier seas.

Oh dear.

I’m talking about the weather.

I’ve already started this letter three times, and I have three drafts sitting in the waste basket beside me. I am determined not to do it again, so I am afraid you are getting my flow of thought as it is.

She turned to Firmus.

“You mount first,” she hissed, well aware that she would not be able to lose the tension wound inside until they reached the river. “Then slide to sit right behind the saddle.”

He gripped the saddle horn and she helped to boost him. He grunted softly in pain, but made no comment as he obeyed her orders. She mounted easily and settled into the saddle.

“Hold tight around my waist,” she commanded. “No chivalry here. You can’t fall off, so I mean it. Tight.”

His arms slid around her firmly and he pressed close to her back, bringing both welcome warmth and an alarming hitch in her breathing.

“We have a three hour ride to the location where my contact has left the second horse,” she informed him. This was hardly the time to appreciate those wiry arms around her. Stop it, Sola. “Then we ride through the night. We’ll sleep in the day. But we must make it to the hiding place I have in mind before they start searching for us. It is going to be difficult.”

“I promise not to be stoic,” he said, his breath tickling her ear. “If that is what you’re saying. I’ll take painkillers when I need them.”

“Good,” Sola answered, almost not believing they were finally doing this. “And Firmus—I’m glad you’re finally free once more.”

His arms tightened slightly around her waist.

“As am I,” he replied. “Let’s find your sister.”

And Minyas set off into the night.

“All right,” the Colonel said slowly, rubbing at the healing leg. Anakin recalled those muscle pains up his arm as he got used to using the prosthetic. “Could we start with these two questions? One, who might desire to pit Naboo and the Republic against each other? And two—-is there anyone in the Republic who stands to gain from these hostilities?”

Anakin rose and extended a hand to Veers who accepted his help in hauling him to his feet.

“Excellent questions, Veers. And ones we will need to be very discreet about as we search for answers. Because I suspect that someone might have even infiltrated the Chancellor’s security given how thoroughly I was stonewalled.”

The Colonel looked grim, but he inclined his head in agreement.

“Then let us get to it, sir. Or I confess I might have to go AWOL to get my friend.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Colonel,” Anakin told him, grinning a little as they walked out of the gym. “But I’ll be right beside you if you do.”

“He’s as keen to see you as I am,” Myra told me proudly, reaching for my kit bag to allow me to take the baby.

He was so light.

He squinted up at me suspiciously, little mouth opening and closing and his fists waving about chaotically. I placed my finger by that mouth and immediately he turned his head to try and suck, right hand gripping my finger powerfully.

“Hello, Zevulon,” I whispered as he tried to gum my finger unsuccessfully. His hair was a white blonde fuzz all over that round head. I held him close to my chest, bending so I could kiss his soft cheek. He smelled like a loaf of fresh baked bread and his tiny coos and splutters did something to me. Was this what a Loth wolf felt like? I wondered. This fierce protective instinct? That I would die to save him this moment was the most eminently logical thought.

I looked up to find my wife watching me with a little smile hovering around her lips.

“You…I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I told her huskily.

“I’m sorry,” Sola said as they moved along the long covered path toward the massive estate the Regent and the Princess were visiting. “I know these are the worst sort of functions.”

He had been at seven of them in attendance to her already, and she knew he abhorred them deeply. Because it was at these gatherings that she was expected to show him off like a favorite tooka or rasix puppy.

He was heartily sick of the fawning and giggling from the other women who found him a novelty. She was heartily sick of it too. Many of them had slaves and servants as well—men and women who were equal in ability to Firmus with their neutral expressions as they followed their owners about. One woman—a Duchess of some sort—-even dressed her slaves to match her wardrobe as she proudly pointed out to Sola.

How could living sentient beings do this to each other?

“I’ve more or less got the hang of them now,” Firmus murmured beside and slightly behind her where he carried the train of her ridiculous dress to keep it from getting dirty.

She glanced at him quickly—-slaves were mostly ignored after all, except to hand things to or send off on errands. He was impeccable himself, though not dressed to be noticed. She had no desire to make him more of a spectacle than was required. Unlike the poor soul in front of them, clad in eye shattering yellow to offset his mistress’s candy pink gown.

They had to keep their voices low. Her Uncle was several yards behind her as they were going to be the last to enter so as to have the most attention. How she despised it.

“I wish,” she whispered fiercely, “that we could attend one of these incognito. And we would have the best time making fun of all the ridiculous things before escaping to sail one of those boats.”

She had reason to know that the Captain could be very funny if he wished, and after the last three functions of this nature, his observations regarding all the idiocy had her in tears back in her quarters. It had become something of a tradition and it helped both of them to relax after an evening of being on show in different ways.

He ducked his head to hide a swift smile.

“Someday perhaps,” he said softly. “Preferably a Republic function with your sister free and restored as Queen.”

Down in the courtyard, Piett exited the Palace, warm blue cloak about his shoulders and thick nerf leather gauntlets protecting his hands against the cold.

Leia noted the moment Aunt Sola spotted him from where she was giving instructions to the Stable Master. She finished the conversation and crossed the snowy stones to reach the General who waited for her in a side alcove.

He smiled broadly as she reached him—-his face unguarded and glowing with his love for her Aunt.

Her Aunt who—--kark’s sake , Aunt Sola!

Leia huffed aloud as Aunt Sola didn’t even hesitate to step right into Piett’s arms and claim his lips with what must surely be bruising force.

The Lady made a sort of contented ‘krrrrr’ sound without opening her eyes, and Leia raised an eyebrow at her.

“Really? You approve of such a display? Anyone walking by could see them! I can see them!”

The Lady opened her beak in a slow, lazy yawn and cracked one eye to look at Leia with judgement.

“Yes, all right fine,” Leia sighed, mouth curling, as she watched the lovers. “I’m not actually shocked.”

Fifteen years after all.

And she was so deeply happy for both of them—-if only all of the country could feel as her Aunt and Piett did in this moment. The General tucked Aunt Sola close to his chest, his blue cloak around them both as he rested his head on top of Sola’s.

At least in some parts of the kingdom, all was right and all was well.

And over the water came the war chants from the enemy.

Sola drew her sword.

The first boats reached the shore and troops clad in black began to leap from the gunwales to the water, their swords clanging up and down the coastline in a strange cacophony.

“Archers!” Sola yelled, and all of them turned as one to dip their first arrows into the coal buckets behind them.

The first Imperial soldiers had formed a line and were beginning their run up the beach. This was the moment they must all hold their nerves as the distance between them was perhaps a hundred yards. The oil line had been poured twenty yards from the surf, taking into account the tides.

“HOLD!” Sola called. They must be certain and get as many of the enemy as possible. The second line was following the first…

Five yards.

Two.

“FIRE!” she screamed, and brought her sword down.

“Do you think sending us was purely a show for the Republic then?” he asked, “To appear as though we are ‘dealing’ with Naboo, but in fact are protecting it?”

“Very likely,” Anakin agreed, “but again, I’m not certain why .”

“Then, General,” Veers said, pushing up carefully and retrieving his crutches. “I am at your disposal to find that out.”

Anakin rose as well and clapped him on the shoulder as they made their way toward an exit.

“Even if it is just us two on a rescue mission,” he said, “I will do my best.”

Veers gave him a look.

“While I appreciate that, sir,” he answered in skeptical tones, “I might suggest we save the one man, one Jedi, plan for the last resort.”

Anakin grinned. Oh yes, he liked the Colonel.

“What’s the matter, Veers?” he asked lightly, “don’t trust my ability?”

“I would like to not leave Naboo a smoking ruin, General,” the Colonel answered with a straight face.

“Noted,” Anakin answered, hope stirring in his soul now that he had an ally.

Cautiously he peered between the blue fabric pieces and saw that this porch overlooked magnificent gardens. A riot of color met his eye, a welcome contrast to the vast green patches and the pale orange stones that lined the paths and ringed the fountains. High walls surrounded this, but from this height, Piett could see the spires and towers of the city beyond.

The door handles behind him clicked and he turned slightly to see the Princess, dressed in pale green today, her hair in two looped braids on either side of her head.

She raised an eyebrow at him from the doorway.

“Doctor Braxten said you shouldn’t get to your feet until tomorrow.”

He inclined his head with a slight quirk to his mouth.

“Never been particularly good at staying in bed I’m afraid.”

She crossed her arms and regarded him for another second before she shook her head, smiling.

“Can’t say that I don’t sympathize. I’d go mad as well. On the other hand, I wasn’t flung all over the planet by beasts and gladiators for two days. Oh yes—and the stab wound.”

She gestured a hand, her tone dripping with skepticism.

“Bit of exaggeration,” Piett murmured, and for a moment the two of them shared a gentle battle of wills before she shrugged and moved aside.

“Well. I was going to bring things out to you, but you should come in seeing as you’re determined to be upright.”