"Labyrinth"
Rating: PG-13 for action, violence and a little swearing
Padmé and Jar Jar head to Coruscant for a special conference on cloning, where they grab some R&R with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Bail, before getting kidnapped by bounty hunters and everything going downhill from there.
Chapter 7
Even though they now had a direction to aim for, their progress was slow. Since they had decided to travel inside buildings as much as possible, they were subject to wrong turns, blocked corridors and disorientation. By the time they decided to camp for the night, they still had no idea how much ground they had actually covered.
They made camp in an interior room where they could not be detected by anyone prowling the streets. The Jedi's speeder had come equipped with two small lamps, so they had light, two bottles with decontamination tablets so they could collect and purify water, and an emergency cache of food rations. The rations would not last long among the five of them, and they did not have a fuel source for cooking the food they hunted down, but at least they were better supplied than before.
Jar Jar, accompanied by Anakin, went to hunt for food while the others scouted for water and secured the room. By the time Jar Jar and Anakin returned with an armload of rats and other small mammals, Anakin had come up with an idea for cooking them. "I'll use my lightsaber," he suggested eagerly. "Barbecue, Jedi style!"
"Now wesa get to try your cooken, Ani!" Jar Jar thrilled, not noticing Obi-Wan's skepticism.
Jar Jar deftly skinned several rats and handed them to Anakin, who lay them in a row on the ground and crouched over them, igniting his lightsaber. As he cautiously lowered the super-heated blade over the meal, he quipped, "Master Mace would freak if he saw this. 'A Jedi must always treat his or her lightsaber with respect and honor,'" he imitated the Jedi Master in a stuffy voice.
"On the other hand, I think even Master Mace would appreciate our current circumstances," Obi-Wan observed, despite a twinge of guilt.
Bail watched as the rats began to sizzle under the blade's heat. "I'll take mine medium rare, if you please." One of the rats began to smoke heavily and spontaneously combusted. "On the other hand, well done will do just fine."
"You could just stick to really rare," Padmé offered.
Bail made a face. "No, thank you, I've had quite enough of that for a lifetime." Anakin raised his blade and surveyed his handiwork. The rats were either scorched or not cooked at all. He turned over the cooked ones and tried again. After a few moments of broiling, Anakin announced, "Dinner is served!"
The rats didn't look or smell at all appetizing, but they would surely be an improvement over eating them raw. As the others hesitantly bit into their servings, Anakin lined up another batch. With practice he actually got to be quite good at roasting them, despite the occasional exploding frog.
When the meal had been reduced to a pile of small bones, Padmé noisily licked her fingers and pronounced, "I can honestly say that was the best rat I've ever eaten. Thank you, Ani. You really are a good cook."
Anakin beamed, even when Obi-Wan quipped, "By the time we get out of here you'll be a gourmet of the gutter."
Bail had picked up the rifle they had appropriated from the bounty hunters and was examining it nervously, as if he expected it to turn into a snake and bite him. "I don't know why you're having me carry this thing. It's not as if I know how to use it."
"I could show you," Obi-Wan offered.
Bail's skepticism only deepened. "I don't know. My people tend toward pacifism, you know."
"Of course," Anakin sneered. "You don't want to do any killing yourself, so you let others do it for you."
Everyone tensed. Obi-Wan mildly observed, "It has a stun setting."
Shrugging off Anakin's rancor, Bail agreed, "Well, I suppose I should learn how to use it, although I have a feeling I'll prove to be more of a danger to myself and all of you rather than to anyone who might attack us."
He and Obi-Wan moved out into the hall to practice, followed by Padmé and Jar Jar, who also wanted to learn how to use the powerful gun. Anakin leaned in the doorway, skeptical that the Prince could manage the weapon.
Obi-Wan familiarized them with the various parts of the rifle, including the safety latch and the power setting, then showed Bail how to hold it. As he positioned the Prince's arms, Bail archly observed, "Actually, this is kind of sexy in a phallic sort of way."
Padmé chuckled, but Anakin and Jar Jar only looked confused.
"But then I shouldn't use such language in front of impressionable young minds."
"It's all right," Obi-Wan said with a wry grin. "He doesn't know what it means."
Indignant, Anakin protested, "I do, too!" Padmé laughed even harder, and Anakin swore Bail gave him a patronizing look. As Obi-Wan continued with Bail's lesson, Anakin leaned close to Padmé. "What does it mean?"
"Um," Padmé blushed furiously. "It...well, it means....manly," she flustered.
Anakin pretended like he understood, but he still didn't get it.
A blinding light flashed in the hall as Bail fired the rifle. The blast ricocheted down the corridor as the Prince dropped the weapon, startled. He held a hand to his cheek. "That hurt!" he exclaimed. "It hit me."
"It has a powerful kickback," Obi-Wan observed, picking the rifle up off the ground.
"Forget this," Bail said, "I don't want to have anything to do with that thing."
"If you want, you can have my blaster," Padmé offered, handing the Prince her tiny gun.
He took it and held it up dubiously. "Now I'm really glad Anakin doesn't know what 'phallic' means, because if he did, he'd be laughing himself silly."
Obi-Wan and Padmé laughed, leaving Jar Jar confused and Anakin fuming. He shot Obi-Wan a glance, half reproachful and half pleading. If they were going to be laughing at him, he wanted to know why.
"I can tell you," Obi-Wan offered, "but believe me, you'll regret it." When he saw Anakin would not be put off, he leaned close and whispered in his ear.
Anakin's face immediately flamed bright red. With a mortified glance at Padmé, he fled back into the room.
"I want to try firing it," Padmé asked, stepping forward. "It won't be too phallic for me."
Bail gave her a withering look, but Obi-Wan said, "Be that as it may, I don't think we should practice any more. We don't want to attract any more attention."
"Yes, next thing you know all the rats will be wanting to come out and play," Bail quipped, but Padmé noticed Obi-Wan's concerned expression.
"What is it?"
He lightly shook his head. "I don't know. I just don't like being in the hall." Trying not to be alarming, he ushered them back into the room and shut the door as securely as he could.
Anakin sat cross-legged on the floor, still smarting from what he perceived had been a joke at his expense. Bail chirped up, "So, what's for dessert?"
"Sewage surprise," Anakin shot back. "I made it especially for you."
"Ah. Too bad I'm still full from that delicious meal. I'll have to pass on it."
As Anakin and the Prince continued their verbal sparring, Jar Jar edged closer to Padmé. "Why theresa no peoples down here? Theresa so many peoples up above, but no one lives down here."
Padmé shook her head. She had wondered the same thing. "It is strange, isn't it? A trillion people live on this planet, but none of them are at ground level."
"Maybe theysa knowen something we don't," Jar Jar offered, and Padmé shuddered. That didn't sound at all promising. In a small voice, Jar Jar sighed, "My missen home."
Fighting back a sudden wave of homesickness, Padmé whispered, "Me, too."
"If my gettin back, my never leaven again."
Padmé wanted to agree, but something held her back. Her earlier realization of the needs on Coruscant was only further confirmed the more she spent slogging through the bowels of the planet. Her sense of duty and civic responsibility called to her in a way she could not deny. But it was more than that. She watched Bail and Anakin, now concocting fanciful recipes involving bugs, mold, and gravel "to give it texture," and even the stoic Obi-Wan piped up with suggestions for a sauce of toxic runoff.
Despite the tension between Anakin and Bail, the three of them shared a camaraderie that Padmé envied. On Naboo, Padmé had colleagues, even friends, but nothing like this. Partly this was due to her responsibility as Queen, but a large part of it was the Naboo reserve. Her people lived in a very closed society. They did not welcome outsiders, and it took them years to develop intimate friends. Interpersonal relations were governed by elaborate rules of etiquette and formality, but now Padmé realized how those very rules could be used to keep people at arms' length. Prince Bail's casual familiarity had annoyed her at first because it violated her sense of propriety, but now she realized that the Prince was not rude or insincere. Far from it. He used humor and good will to get around even Anakin's dislike of him. Despite the tension they were friends, and they had all invited Padmé and Jar Jar into their intimate circle. She liked all of them. She enjoyed taking part in their banter, and she was even beginning to understand the intricate rhythms of their relationship to each other. Now she and Jar Jar were adding their own rhythm to the symphony, and she did not want to have to sever those ties. On Coruscant, with these three people, she was learning more about herself than she ever could on Naboo.
"Ugh!" the Prince exclaimed. "Here's something new to add to the menu." He brushed something off his pants leg. It was a hairy worm, about the size of Padmé's little finger.
"Plump and juicy," Anakin commented, swiping at another worm crawling on Bail's sleeve.
Abruptly Bail shifted the conversation, asking Obi-Wan, "You said it was an old friend of mine who helped you find us. Who was it?"
Obi-Wan busied himself with inventorying their ration bar supply. "She said her name was Cait Nandreeson."
"Cait Nandreeson?" Bail echoed, pleased. "Bless me, I haven't seen her in years. How is she?"
"She seemed to be in perfectly good health," Obi-Wan muttered.
Anakin enjoyed seeing his master so out of sorts. "She wanted you to give a message to the Prince, remember?" he prompted, but Obi-Wan ignored him.
"A message?" Bail asked.
Forging recklessly ahead, Anakin supplied, "She said you should call her sometime."
"Ah," Bail smiled, then caught himself. Clearing his throat, he continued, "It's been years since I've seen her."
But Anakin wasn't ready to let up yet. "She didn't like Obi-Wan," he observed.
Affecting innocence, Bail remarked, "Didn't she? Why ever not?"
"Obi-Wan didn't like her, either."
"Anakin!" Obi-Wan snapped, angry for letting himself be needled so effectively by his padawan.
"Well, you didn't," Anakin pointed out.
Padmé didn't know whether to laugh or groan at this display of jealously. Here they all were in danger for their lives, and all Bail, Anakin, and even the lofty Obi-Wan could do was degenerate into cattiness. She rolled her eyes and muttered a disgusted, "Men!"
Bail turned to her, amused. "I beg your pardon? Women are not immune to jealousy, you know."
"Maybe not," she returned, "but we don't behave so childishly about it."
"You don't think so? Well, it so happens that I have a lot of experience in that area, and believe me, women are more than capable of turning into infantile brats."
"I've never behaved like that," Padmé huffed.
"I daresay you haven't really been in love yet."
The Prince was right, but Padmé didn't particularly care to admit that in front of everyone. "Yes, I have," she protested.
"Then it wasn't a very deep love. There's nothing like a good dose of jealousy to inflame true passion," Bail expounded. "The threat of a rival turns love from a treacly sentiment into a most delicious torture. Love that isn't in agony isn't --"
"Oh, shut up!" Obi-Wan exploded. "No one wants to hear your stupid philosophies!"
The others stared at him in shock, Bail most of all. He had only been teasing Padmé, and maybe Obi-Wan, too, a little. Usually Obi-Wan didn't seem to mind the Prince's jibes, but he had never yelled at Bail before. The Prince tried to cover up how deeply Obi-Wan had wounded him. "You really are jealous, aren't you?" he observed with a false note of levity. "I didn't know you cared that much."
Unable to endure the conversation any more, and ashamed of his outburst, Obi-Wan stood and crossed the room to leave. But when he opened the door, hundreds of worms spilled into the room, and he sprang back in alarm. They filled the hall in a relentless march, millions and millions of them. Now that the door was open, they surged into the room. Obi-Wan tried to shut the door, but there were too many of them. They jammed in the doorframe, preventing the door from closing all the way.
The others backed up against the far wall, watching the invaders nervously. "Are they dangerous?" Padmé asked, trying to stay calm.
"I don't know," Obi-Wan admitted, picking up the edge of his robe to keep the worms from climbing up.
"You know, I don't really care if they're dangerous or not," the Prince confessed, his voice rising in distress. "I don't fancy myself being overrun by them."
"My neither!" Jar Jar agreed.
"Right. Let's gather our things and get out of here," Obi-Wan ordered.
They hastened to reclaim the lamps and rifles before the worms swamped them. Padmé tried to avoid stepping on the worms, but it was impossible. She pranced from foot to foot, trying to keep them from climbing up her legs.
"Which way do we go?" Anakin asked.
"Let's follow their path," Obi-Wan suggested. "We'll outrun them eventually. Let's go!" Taking a deep breath, he plunged out into the river of worms, Anakin close behind. The others hesitated a moment, but realized they had no choice but to follow.
The hall undulated with the flow of worms in a living stream an ankle deep. They flowed up the walls to a meter in height. It was impossible not to step on them. With each stride, Padmé set her foot on a squishy, squirming mass, and the soles of her shoes soon became coated with their crushed bodies. They crawled up her legs, and she tried to shake them as she ran, but this only made the already slippery footing more precarious. Ahead of her, Bail slipped and almost went down. He managed to right himself, but he picked up a number of passengers during his moment of hesitation. Jar Jar whined in a high pitched squeal, his eyestalks bulging in fright.
The hall dead-ended into another corridor where the river of worms divided and flowed in each direction. The Jedi hesitated only a fraction of a second before turning and heading down the right branch. Bail and Jar Jar pivoted and followed, but as she made the turn Padmé slipped and fell. Her hands and knees crushed the small, squirming bodies, and a ripple of tiny feet flowed up her legs and arms. In a moment she would be swamped. She suppressed a scream, trying desperately to shake them off.
A pair of hands reached under her arms and hauled her to her feet. It was Anakin. He took her hand and pulled her along after him, steadying her.
The river seemed like it would never end. There were more slips and falls, and they had to slow down in order to maintain their footing. Padmé could feel the worms crawling into her hair, and she pressed her lips tightly together so they wouldn't get into her mouth. She constantly had to suppress the urge to stop and wipe them off her. At this point, their only hope was to keep running.
Eventually the river dried up to a trickle, and they outstripped the worms, but they didn't stop running. The deluge was right behind them. They ran on and on, eventually spilling out onto the dark street. They stopped, shaking their arms and stamping their feet to rid themselves of the creatures. Padmé brushed them all off, but she could still feel their horrible little feet crawling all over her skin. Was she just imagining it?
"They're in my clothes!" she screeched and began tearing off her clothing. The others did the same, ripping off shirts and pants, shaking out the worms. It was too dark in the street to see much of anything, but Padmé could hear the frantic grunts and gasps of the others as they shook out their clothes and fought to rid themselves of the hangers-on.
Padmé could still feel them crawling all over her, but she found no more of them on her body or her clothes. It was only her imagination. She stood still for a moment, gasping for breath, struggling to regain a sense of control. As her panic slowly faded, her Naboo propriety gained hold of her. Reluctantly, for fear of any worms she had missed, Padmé dressed herself again.
For a long time no one said anything. She could hear the others' breathing slowly even out, but their breath was still shaky. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the near total dark, she could just discern the Prince, his face buried in his hands. Jar Jar swayed slightly, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
"We shouldn't stay out here," Obi-Wan cautioned, his voice low. "We should get back into shelter."
"You call that shelter?" Bail protested. The near panic in his voice echoed in Padmé's chest. "I don't want to go back inside that building or any other."
"They were just worms," Anakin observed, but he didn't sound as confident as he wanted to appear.
"I don't care! I can't take this any more. This may all be in a day's work for you, Anakin, but I've been kidnapped, beaten, chased by bounty hunters, forced to eat rats, and now swamped by worms. I'm not exactly used to it."
"Why not? You deal with slime in the Senate all the time," Anakin shot back.
"Stop it, both of you!" Obi-Wan rebuked. He could hear Jar Jar whimpering, and he knew Padmé was on the verge of tears. They were all frazzled. Projecting a sense of calm, he said, "Come on, let's all gather together. We'll be all right."
At Obi-Wan's bidding, they settled onto the ground in a tight circle. Bail leaned against Obi-Wan, pressing his face into Obi-Wan's neck. To the Jedi's surprise, Padmé took his other arm, laying her head against his shoulder. She took Anakin's hand in hers as he huddled next to her, and Jar Jar managed to embrace both of them in his lanky arms. All four of them leaned close to Obi-Wan, and through the Force he sensed their need for assurance -- even his normally intrepid padawan. Obi-Wan smiled to himself. If the rest of them weren't on the verge of emotional collapse, he knew he would be having to fight back his own panic. As it was, he felt like a mother cat huddling with her brood of kittens. It was a nice feeling, to have the others turn to him for comfort. He wasn't accustomed to playing such a paternal role, but he had to admit he liked it. He found himself wanting to sing them all a lullaby or tell them a bedtime story.
Obi-Wan let a sense of calm flow out from him to embrace the others, and slowly their tension and fear melted away. Before any of them realized it, they were all sound asleep.