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"Hush, now, Ani, it's time for bed."

"Please, Mom?  Just one more?"

"All right, Ani...just one more.  This one is an old Corellian legend."

"Corellians look like humans, right?"

"That's right...This story is about a great Corellian warrior.  Her name was Ronyne, and she served her master well, and bravely.  One day, her Master made a bad deal.  He would have lost quite a bit of money to another family, so he ordered Ronyne to go kill the head of the rival family.  Ronyne was a good warrior, but more than that, she was a good person, and knew that it would be wrong to commit murder because her Master did not want to pay a debt he had incurred.  She refused to carry out her Master's bidding, and he became very angry.  He ordered her killed.  The assassins came to her room late at night and attacked her as she slept.  They wounded her, and though she awoke and managed to kill the evil assassins, she could not save herself.  The Corellian gods were watching and knew that she was strong in spirit and soul.  They allowed her spirit to wander the galaxy, looking for a new family to protect.  Now, she does her job from the shadows, never to be seen..."

**********

Obi-Wan Kenobi gave the gruel a half-hearted stir as he waited on Anakin.  The boy woke before the sun and took off for parts unknown every morning until breakfast.  It was a daily struggle to retrieve him for meals and training.  Letting the spoon fall against the pot with a muted clatter, he strode to the door, his irritation showing in the lengthening of his strides.  He yanked the door open with slightly more force than necessary.

"Anakin!" he yelled, stepping outside.  He felt the boy's presence.  Satisfied that his message had been adequately conveyed, he turned to go back inside when something caught his eye.  Something dark and cold invaded the blood running through his veins as he stared at the wickedly serrated dagger pinning a scrap of paper to the door.  He reached out with the Force, pulling the dagger out of the door and to his side.  He unfolded the paper cautiously.

Cantina.  8pm.  Alone.

It was signed with a smear of blood.

**********

Anakin Skywalker could tell that his mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi, was preoccupied.  For one thing, he was actually eating the gruel.  Anakin wrinkled his nose.  Nasty stuff.  And even nastier today, since it had stuck to the bottom of the pot and burnt.  The black, charred layer at the bottom infused the rest of the meal with a bitter, smoky taste.  Obi-Wan didn't seem to notice.  Anakin could almost see the gears working in his Master's head as Obi-Wan shoveled gruel into his mouth.  He sighed.  This could mean one of two things.  One: Obi-Wan was developing some new training plan that would involve a lot of meditation and probably some ridiculous-looking gymnastics that would result in more than a few bruises.  Two: Obi-Wan had his mind on something else entirely, and Anakin was going to be spending a lot of time in meditation while Obi-Wan ran around doing whatever it was he felt needed to be done.  After careful consideration, Anakin decided the second scenario was more plausible.  When Obi-Wan was obsessed with new training plans, he got this gleeful look that filled Anakin with dread.

"Um, 'scuse me, Master," he muttered, sliding from the chair.  "Got chores to do."  He made a beeline for the exit, only to be stopped by his Master's magically restored attention.

"Anakin."

"Yeah?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, Master?"

"I have some errands to do.  I want you to work on that patience exercise I taught you yesterday."

"All morning?"

"No, Anakin.  Your line is, 'Yes, Master.  Your every wish is my command.  I live only to serve you.'  Now, go meditate."

Obi-Wan carefully transferred a scraping of the blood from the note onto a slide and pushed it into the computer.  He studied the writing again, as the computer performed its analysis.  The strokes were strong, harshly presented against the white paper.  The letters were neat and legible; the perfect formation of each letter like that of a talented schoolchild.  Like that of a person hiding their true handwriting.  The computer beeped and Obi-Wan shifted his attention to the readout.  An elevated amount of midi-chlorians made him raise his eyebrow, until he arrived at the DNA analysis.  Wonderful.  The note had been written by a Force-sensitive bantha.  He shut off the computer with a swipe of his hand and went to get his cloak.

"I'm going to town --"

"Can I come?"  The look of hope on Anakin's face almost made Obi-Wan cave.  He forced his heart to harden.  After all, Anakin had to learn discipline.

"You may not.  Continue with your patience exercises and when you truly feel you have achieved something, meditate on that."

"Yes, Master.  Your every wish is my command.  I live only to serve you," Anakin mimicked with a bit too much sneer for Obi-Wan's taste.

"Do not test me, Anakin.  You're not going to win."  Obi-Wan paused, wondering if he had been too harsh.  "But at least you are learning," he offered, with a grin.

The look he received from Anakin was less than rewarding.

**********

"What has become of the boy?"

"To which boy are you referring?"  Mace Windu's presence commanded the small room in which he stood with Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

"The child who helped save Naboo.  The one who is to be trained as a Jedi."  Palpatine knew he was hitting a sore spot with Windu, and decided to twist the knife.  "He seemed like such a charming little chap, though he seemed a bit old to start on your way of life."

Mace Windu's face did not change in any way.  "He is being trained by Jedi Knight Kenobi."

"Ah!  Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  The one who killed the Queen's mysterious attacker."  My apprentice, he thought darkly.  Who will be avenged.

"He was a Sith."

"Ah, yes.  Of course.  Well, I was looking forward to having two such heroic personalities pursuing the Jedi's duties to the Senate, but I have not seen either since that little debacle on Gaclena."  He had known he was treading on dangerous territory.  He was unsure of whether the true story had come been fully divulged to the Council, but the episode had filled him with great hope.  The boy had been overcome with fear and anger.  He was ripe for the influence of the Dark Side.  And so powerful.  So powerful.

"Padawan Skywalker is being trained by Jedi Knight Kenobi."

"I'm so glad to hear that.  I was worried about the lad during that mission.  He seemed so lost and scared..."  Palpatine trailed off, calculating on the Jedi Master's keen logic to fill in the blanks.  "I just wanted to make sure he was doing all right.  Write him a bit of a note, perhaps."

Mace Windu eyed the Supreme Chancellor.  Why all these questions concerning Kenobi's Padawan?  Windu did not like this.  Nor did he like Palpatine himself, and neither did Master Yoda, he knew.

"You may send it to the Council.  We will make sure he gets it."

"Oh?  Through the Council?  Isn't that rather unusual?  Are his whereabouts being kept a secret?"

You slimy garduin, Mace Windu thought.  What are you getting at?  "Padawan training is very serious," he said, aloud.  "It is essential that Skywalker's training is not interrupted in any way.  He has a lot of catching up to do."

"Oh, I understand, completely," Palpatine assured him.  "An excellent policy, I'm sure."  Inside, he was fuming.

**********

Obi-Wan stepped into the Ale Barrel, the town tavern where he sometimes took Anakin to eat, and let his eyes adjust to the low lighting.  The Ale Barrel was more of a town gathering place than a watering hole for the local scum.  That one was down the street, and he did not take Anakin there.  Technically, Anakin should not have been frequenting the Ale Barrel either, but Obi-Wan had managed to convince Samke, the bartender, that Anakin was old enough.  Anakin loved the tavern.  He got to run around and listen to the stories the old spacers had to tell.  He was a great favorite around the men, who seemed to think Anakin's stories of heroism and podracing were all exaggeration by the boy's overactive imagination.  Obi-Wan did all he could to encourage that view.

Now, as he let the sunlight filter in behind him, the usually friendly and ebullient spacers growled and entreated him to close the door.  He ignored their pleas to make his point, then allowed the door to swing shut behind him.  A brief scan of the room presented him with his target.  He headed straight for the corner booth and the lone spacer shoving a mound of yert eggs around his plate.

Spath Kadnau was not yet fifty, but had spent more than 30 years in space, first as a Republic pilot, then as a commercial transport and cargo pilot, and on occasion, as Obi-Wan had often suspected, a smuggler.  The stress of constant space travel, coupled with a diet of tavern food and ale had aged the spacer considerably past his prime.  He had thinning hair and was beginning to gather an extra layer of padding at the waist.  He was the survivor of countless brawls, double-crosses, equipment malfunctions, and tavern yert eggs.  He was a hard man, and right now, he was a hard man with a hangover.

"You're Spath Kadnau?"

"Unh."  Spath blinked painfully up at the tall, young man staring down at him.  He seemed familiar, but Spath was struggling to place him.  He blinked again, and suddenly the lights came on.  "Aw, yeah, you're Anakin's old man."  Spath nodded, proud of himself, and then racked his brain.  He knew there was a question he had always wanted to ask the man, and now he couldn't scrape it up from the depths of his alcohol-sloshed brain.

"He admires you very much.  May I sit down?"

"Sure.  Be comfy.  Not like I own the booth."  Spath grinned widely at Obi-Wan, doing his best to be friendly.  He liked that Anakin kid.

"Anakin tells me you are the most comprehensive source of legends in the galaxy."

Spath blinked at him and pushed his eggs aside.  He leaned back in the booth, hangover replaced by the sharp curiosity that made him so good at his job.  "If you mean I know every story there is to tell, then yeah, I got the goods."  He studied Obi-Wan's odd clothing and youthful face.  No way was this guy Anakin's father.  He was very nearly a kid himself.

"I was served with a request for a meeting," the kid said, laying a piece of paper on the table between them.  "It was accompanied by this."  Next to the paper, he lay a small, shining knife with a twisted, serrated blade.

Spath's face froze, his eyes locked on the evidence.

"You recognize it?"

"Kid, someone's playing a joke on you."

"I don't think so."  Obi-Wan opened the note and showed him the smear of blood.  "I heard a rumor once, of a bounty hunter who signed notes like this, but I didn't pay attention at the time, and never listened to the whole story."

"That's all it is, kid, a rumor.  Don't you go listening to that sort of thing."

"I'm not listening to anything," Obi-Wan said, practically.  "But I am still in possession of a cryptic note and a rather ugly piece of weaponry.  I think that's all the evidence necessary to want a few answers."  Obi-Wan was fully prepared to use his Jedi powers to coerce an answer from the man, but never needed them.

"Your rumor, kid, was about a bounty hunter named Ronyne."

"Ronyne?"  Obi-Wan recognized the name.  "After the mythical Corellian warrior who was killed by her master?  Her ghost was condemned to roam the galaxy, looking for acceptance into another clan."

"That's the idea.  Either way," Spath continued, sinking into his role as a storyteller, "this particular psycho chick is a bounty hunter and assassin.  She dresses all in black and melts into the shadows.  Word has it that she got burnt up in a ship disaster way back whenever, and she's all scarred and disfigured.  She keeps her face covered.  Don't cross this dame.  Bad news.  She's real big on knives, the nastier the better.  That little toy she left you is just a party favor.  I heard 'bout guys who double-crossed her and ended up in very little pieces in orbit 'round Alderaan.  She's a myth, kid.  Every spacer and outlaw has heard of her.  She's a nightmare."  Suddenly, Spath sat up straighter, and became the hardened, cynical spacer once more.  "A bad dream.  Nothing more.  I'm tellin' ya, someone's just trying to scare you."

"How did such a myth get so detailed, not to mention widely believed, if it had no basis in reality?"

"Aw, it had a basis, all right.  Some chick got it in her head she was gonna be a bounty hunter and dress up in black robes or something.  Spread some rumors, everyone's afraid of her, she don't got nothing to worry 'bout.  I think that was 'round ten years ago.  Girl's dead, now.  Heard she went down in a sabotage mission.  Got captured, didn't get out in time."

"So, she was real."

"Naw.  The person was real.  Rest of it's bantha poodoo.  It's like your little buddy's stories.  Believe me, kid, I've seen it all, and there ain't no way your kid did half the stuff he claims he did."

Obi-Wan knew otherwise, and made a mental note to remin Anakin to watch his trap around the spacers.

"Well, thank you very much for your help, Mr. Kadnau.  I appreciate it."

"Naw.  It was nuthin'."  In a flash, Spath remembered the question he had wanted to ask.  "Hey, how'd you get Sparky up there to let the kid in here?"

Obi-Wan turned to look at Spath.  "He's old enough," he said, with a seemingly careless wave of his hand.

"Aw."  Spath turned back to his eggs.  "'Course he's old enough.  What a dumb question."

**********

Obi-Wan returned to the small cottage, brandishing a container of kaadu kebobs and oirn noodles to make up for Anakin's morning of patience.  He was not happy to realize that Anakin was not to be found.  So, he waited.  In fact, he waited well into the evening, until Anakin trotted in the front door, as grubby as he had ever seen him.

"Anakin!"  Obi-Wan surveyed his charge's greasy attire, mussed hair and grimy fingers.  "Where have you been and what have you been doing to get yourself in this state?"

"Don't be mad --" Anakin started.

"It's a bit late for that," Obi-Wan informed him.  "Have you no respect for my authority?  Do you believe you can simply train yourself when you feel like it?"

"Aw, Obi-Wan..."

"Do you?"

"No, I was just bored..."

"Anakin."

"Aw, you weren't around, anyway!  If I can't train myself, why do you keep leaving me alone?"

"You are a ten-year-old boy.  I should hope that you are mature enough to finish what needs to be done before...what did you do, anyway?"

"Well...I sorta went down to the podrace stadium 'cause I wanted to check out the pods...there's a race the day after tomorrow, and I was talking to one of the racers, and she let me help her out a little..."

"Anakin!  Really.  Podracing?  What did I tell you about that?"

"You said I couldn't race.  But then you said we could go see a race sometimes."

"But not at the expense of your training.  Besides, there was no race today.  You had no business being there."

"Why?  I don't understand.  Why can't I race?"

"It's not proper, Anakin.  You are in training to become a Jedi Knight.  You cannot participate in such an event --"

"So?  Why not?"

"For one thing, it's dangerous.  A Jedi never puts himself in danger for the mere thrill.  Also, you have an unfair advantage.  You can use the Force --"

"I could use it before!  I did use it before!  I was the only human fast enough --"

"But you could not control it.  Now, you are trained in use of the Force, and it is inappropriate for anyone associated with the Jedi to participate in a contest in which they have an unfair advantage.  Not to mention, podracing is a haven for gamblers.  To be involved in such a --"

"Qui-Gon gambled for me.  He bet the ship to Watto that I would win --"

Obi-Wan felt a sharp pain in his chest at the mention of his old Master's name, but he ruthlessly pushed it aside, reminding himself that even as a Padawan, he often disagreed with his Master's methods, no matter how much he loved the man.

"-- and then he bet the pod against my freedom and Qui-Gon --"

"Just because Qui-Gon did it does not make it right!"

A deafening silence draped the room.  Too late, Obi-Wan realized the angle Anakin had chosen to pursue.

"Anakin, I did not mean that it was not right to --"

"Shut up!  Shut up, Obi-Wan!"  The boy looked to be near tears, but he was too angry to notice.

"Anakin, please listen to what I am trying to say."

"No way!  No!  Just stay away."

Anakin ran to his room, leaving Obi-Wan alone to stare after him.

**********

He was late.  Sharp green eyes tracked Obi-Wan's passage through the cantina.  He strode silently to the back, eyes catching every movement made in the dark hovel.

The booth in the corner seemed safe enough to the young Jedi, so he settled himself on one side, resting a one booted foot on the seat next to him.  He rested his elbow casually on his raised knee, dropping his hand comfortably close to his lightsaber.  He sat alone, longer than he would have expected, and was starting to think he had missed the meeting when a figure detached from the shadows, slipping soundlessly into the seat across from him.

"You're late."  The voice had a gravelly tone that rivaled Yoda's.

A careful evaluation of his companion warned Obi-Wan not to argue the semantics of whom had been kept waiting.  A black cape, similar to his own, in style, engulfed a small body, hiding it from even the most prying of eyes.  Black cloth swathed her face beneath the cloak's hood, her features hidden in a cowl, until she became a being black as the shadows, save only piercing green eyes, which were now studying him shrewdly.

"I'm here," he said instead.

She regarded him, silently.

"I figure you'll tell me why I'm here when you're good and ready," Obi-Wan responded, nonchalantly.  He reached out with the Force, trying to determine her intentions, and was met with a void.  It was as if there was no one sitting across from him.

She stared at him, silently.

"All right, then."  Obi-Wan was still trying to determine why he could not sense her.  She should have enough of an aura for several people, but he was getting nothing.  He tried not to let that irritate him.  He tried not to let her silence irritate him.  He reflected that he should be much more patient after several months of dealing with Anakin, but he just seemed to becoming shorter of temper all the time.

She held her black-gloved hand a few inches above the table top.

"Charades?  All right, then.  Low."

She shook her head.

"Short?"  Nod.  She pointed to him.  "Are you calling me short?"

He knew perfectly well that was not her intention; he was trying to goad her into speaking.  Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a withering look.

"Very well.  A short me.  My kid?"

"Your Padawan, Jedi."

Obi-Wan's senses screamed danger at him.  No one was to know that they were on Malastere or what they were doing.  The Council knew of their location, and it would be pretty easy to guess that they were Jedi, training on a few months of downtime, but her manner told of a source more deadly than pure observation.

"Anakin's in danger?"

A nod.

"Someone besides me wants to kill Anakin?"

A shake.

"They want him alive?  Why?"

"Hell if I know," she mumbled.  "I just shoot people."

"Why are you telling me, then?  Are you not interested because you can't kill him?"

"I like to let them know."  Her voice was starting to sound like it was coming from further away.  Her face had all but disappeared in her cloak.

"So this is --"  Obi-Wan blinked.  She was gone.  He was quite sure she had been sitting across from him just a moment ago.  There was nowhere for her to go...was there?  He jumped up and felt along the wall next to the booth.  Nothing but shadows.  He found a back door, along the other side of the wall, and pushed outside.  She could not have gone through this door.  She would have had to slip past him, for one thing, and for another, the door stuck horribly.  He struggled outside, and surveyed the lot.  A couple was leaning against a fence.  Obi-Wan was turning away when he heard the man shout at him.  He turned, just in time to deflect a blaster shot with his lightsaber.  He returned it, just a hairsbreadth away from the man's hip, and walked back inside, turning off his lightsaber and stowing it, before anyone else saw the weapon.  Where had she gone?

**********

Obi-Wan piloted the landspeeder back the little house on the town outskirts, his mind mulling the dual problems of Anakin's anger and Anakin's danger.  Why, he reflected, did all his problems center around the boy?  Surely life was never this complicated before him.

It was, he finally decided, just in different ways.  He no longer had someone looking over his shoulder, coaching him and grading him on everything he did.  He no longer had to argue the Council's mandates with Qui-Gon.

No, he countered himself.  I have to argue them with Anakin.  It was beginning to dawn on him that Anakin was really just a very small, rather helpless version of his former Master.  No wonder being around the boy caused such an ache in his heart.

He was feeling much more contrite on the matter of Anakin, deeply regretting his last statement, as well as his harsh attitude toward the boy's upbringing.  There really was no reason he had to turn podracing into an evil.  He had thought that it would be best for the boy to forbid him from it, no matter the momentary pain.  He now wondered if he was wrong.  After all, he had chosen Malastare for its attractions, to include podracing, because Anakin would miss it.  There was no reason he could not build a pod and fly around for a bit, even if the Code mandated that he could not participate in an actual race.

He entered the house, and walked toward Anakin's room, hoping the boy had calmed enough for a rational discussion.  He knocked on the door, and waited long enough to determine that he would get no answer. Was the boy still so upset, or had he simply cried himself to sleep?  The hour was approaching 10, Obi-Wan mused, and opened the boy's door, careful to be quiet, lest he wake his charge.  He need not have worried.  The bed was empty.

"Anakin?"  Obi-Wan flicked on the light, scanning the rest of the room in search of his Padawan.  The briefest thought that some mysterious, ruthless bounty hunter, with no twisted desire to warn him, had already kidnapped Anakin flashed through his conscious mind, making his search more vigorous.  He tore through the training room, his own room, the living room, and finally the kitchen, desperate to find the boy.  His aura was imprinted throughout the house, but nowhere with the strength to indicate his person.  A piece of paper lay on the table, decorated with a hasty, childish scrawl.  Obi-Wan snatched it up, recognizing Anakin's writing, read it, his heart breaking with the words.

I'm leaving.  I know Qui-Gon made you take me and you don't want me, so don't worry about it.  I'll be fine.
-- Anakin.

Obi-Wan sat down at the table, the room dimly lit by the living room lamp.  He leaned his head in his hand and regretted the entire day.

**********

"Well, I think his wife died of a long and tragic disease," Liana said, leaning her ample bosom on the bar, "and he had to take care of the kid and nurse her...and he's been in mourning since she died."

"Nah.  Not him.  I think he's a bum who's hiding from something, and the kid is some sort of disguise.  Maybe an orphan he picked up somewhere."

Spath Kadnau was torn from his admiration of the barmaids speculating on possible histories for Anakin's handsome guardian by a tug on his coat.  He looked down to find the charge of the conversation topic himself.

"Ani.  Where's the old man?"

"I dunno.  He told me he didn't want me, then took off."

"What?"  Spath nudged Rocno off the chair next to him and picked Anakin up, planting him firmly in the middle of the spinning circle.  Anakin made a full rotation before grabbing the edge of the bar.  "He said what?"

"Well..." Anakin screwed up his face.  "I've had enough of Obi-Wan.  It's time to go out on my own."

"Ani, you're what?  Eight?  Nine?"

"I'm ten.  And I'm old enough."

"Right, you're old enough.  Look, your old man has a lot on his mind right now --"

"But he told me I should have stayed a slave!"

Before he knew it, all three of the barmaids had flocked to their end of the bar.

"Come on, kid," Spath pulled Anakin off the stool, stepped over Rocno's happily drunk mass, and ushered him to a darker, quieter corner.  The barmaids looked disappointed.  "Now, tell me what's up."

"I need to get to Naboo."

"What's on Naboo?"

Anakin thought fast.  Spath would never believe he was friends with the Queen, so he would have to come up with something else.

"My sister," he said, quickly.  "She'll take care of me."

Spath looked doubtful.  "I don't know, kid," he said.  "I think you should talk to whatsisface, first.  Obi-What?"

"Obi-Wan.  And we already talked.  I'm going to Naboo."

"You talked?  What?  He just comes out with, 'Ya shoulda stayed a slave,' you say, 'Okay, I'm goin' to Naboo,' and he said, 'Yeah, have fun?'"

Anakin shrugged and looked innocently at Spath.  "Sure."

**********

Obi-Wan came awake with a start.  He had dozed off, sitting there at the kitchen table.  If Anakin meant to run away, there was undoubtedly one place he knew to go: Barant.  The ships and spacers would surely get him off planet.  And besides the ships and spacers was at least one psychotic bounty hunter out for a profit.  A profit that would be earned by delivering a certain wandering apprentice.  Obi-Wan cursed his own stupidity as he raced for the landspeeder.

**********

Anakin strapped himself in carefully to the huge seat he was given beside Trank, the pilot who had volunteered to take him to Macenek, an interplanetary refueling station situated between Malastare and Naboo.  Spath had called in a favor to get Anakin on the ship, and warned him that he would have to be careful when looking for someone to take him from the R&R station to Naboo.  Not all spacers were as kind-hearted as himself, Spath knew.  Anakin was less than concerned, though.  He was finally going to see Padmé again, and then he was going to start his trip around the galaxy.  He was going to be the first to see every star system, just as he'd promised Qui-Gon.

**********

Spath took a long draw from his mug.  His thoughts were with the kid, but his body was still at the bar, and demanding ale.  He needed to catch up to the rest of his companions, who were considerably drunker than he.  At least, that was his intention, before he was forcibly hauled away from his seat and pinned against the bar.

"Where is he?"

"Huh?"  Spath squinted at the brown-robed figure shoving the edge of the bar into his back.  Or something, his muddled mind told him.  The figure lifted its other hand and pushed back the hood to reveal Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Anakin.  He ran away from home."

"Ran away?  He told me -- you're Obi-Wan, right?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi.  What did he tell you?"

"He said you got in a fight, and he was going to Naboo to live with his sister for a while.  I couldn't take him, but --"

"He doesn't have a sister."

"Hey, kid, I dunno what your deal is with him, but he told me his sister would take care of him."

"Amidala," Obi-Wan realized, oblivious to the fact that he'd spoken aloud.

"Amidala?  The Queen's his sister?"

"No."  Obi-Wan released the aging spacer, who reached behind him and rubbed the pain out of his back.  "He's gone to Naboo."

"If it helps any, I sent him off with a guy I can trust.  They're going as far as Macenek, and then the kid's on his own.  I didn't like it, but he said you were all good with it."

Obi-Wan automatically chalked up misuse of Jedi mind tricks to Anakin's growing list of crimes.   "Can you take me there?"

"Not this week.  I got a run tomorrow that'll keep me busy 'til sometime middle of next week.  Even had trouble getting the kid as far as Macenek."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully.  He stalked from the tavern, mentally preparing the transmission he knew he would have to send.

**********

"Your Highness, we've received a transmission from Malastare."

"The Agricultural Minister concerning the shipping problems?"

"No, Your Highness, this one is from the Jedi Knight Kenobi."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?"  Queen Amidala of the Naboo raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.  "We owe him a great debt for his services and sacrifices for our planet.  Show me the message."

Panaka flicked a switch on the transmitter control, and Obi-Wan Kenobi seemed to stand solemnly before her.  She actually had very little contact with the Knight, though she felt she knew his fallen Master well, and had hoped to reach out to the Padawan after his death.  Obi-Wan remained a mystery to her, though, and she knew very little of him, save that he had taken young Anakin as his own Padawan.

"Your Majesty," he began, his voice the calm, brusque tone of the quintessential Jedi.  He sounded just like his Master, Amidala realized, sadly.  He had quite a bit more arrogance, and a bit of a humorous streak, she had thought, but the words of the man before her echoed strangely of Qui-Gon.

"I come before you humbly, in need of your assistance.  My Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, is en route to the interplanetary refueling and repair station, Macenek, in hopes of making his way to Naboo.  Since his departure, I have been informed that a price has been placed on his head and that he is in great danger of being abducted and turned over to an unknown force, for reasons I have yet to discern.  I respectfully request that he be met at Macenek and brought safely to Naboo where I will arrive to collect him in a week's time.  My humblest gratitude."

"Is that all?" Amidala asked.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Very well.  Send a ship to Macenek.  I want Ric Olié as the pilot.  Anakin will recognize and trust him.  Send two members of the Royal Guard for protection.  Prepare a room for the boy with above standard security measures."  She smiled, slightly.  "Put some old parts in it for him so he will not get bored.  Prepare for a transmission.  I wish to respond to Jedi Kenobi myself."

**********

Obi-Wan leaned against Anakin's tree.  The bark was cool against the back of his neck and he fought the urge to climb high in its branches. The boy was halfway to Naboo, and he was waiting for him under a tree.  Obi-Wan sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  It was finally starting to grow out and was turning into a most ridiculous mop.  He turned to go back to the house when the movement of a shadow caught his eye.  He moved silently to the window, knowing it would be the escape route of choice.  The assorted debris he and Anakin had managed to strew about the house made a stranger's escape nearly impossible from any other way, especially in the dark.  He boosted himself to the sill and swung his legs inside.  In one quick movement, he ignited his lightsaber and flipped the switch that illuminated the room.  He found himself staring at the same figure he had seen at the cantina.  She sat on Anakin's bed, one foot tucked beneath her, playing with a model Podracer.  Obi-Wan stared at her.

"Put that back!"

She held up the model podracer.  Her eyebrow arched, quizzically.

"Yes, that.  It's Anakin's.  He's coming back for it."

Both eyebrows raised, and a hand touched her mouth.  She reached toward Anakin's desk.  The model seemed to leap from her hand and settle on the desk, six inches from her fingertips.  From Obi-Wan's vantage point, he could not tell if she tossed the model back to its place or if it had moved from her hand by itself.

Then, she settled back on the bed, leaning her weight on her elbows and tilting her head at Obi-Wan.

He couldn't tell if she was laughing at him, flirting with him, or asking him a question.  He felt his frustration growing.  "What are you doing here?"

She tilted her head in the other direction, casting her gaze upward and to the side, as if thinking about his question.

"This is my home.  I'll ask you once to leave."  He stepped toward the bed.

She kicked him square in the jaw, shifting all her weight to her arms as her legs jackknifed off the bed.  Obi-Wan's head snapped backwards, causing him to stumble backward.  He immediately regained his bearings and reignited his lightsaber, to see her curled innocently on Anakin's bed, again.

"Don't like to get close to anyone, huh?" Obi-Wan asked, rubbing his chin.

The corners of her eyes crinkled, winningly.

"I don't think I like you very much."

Her eyes widened and filled with tears.

"My, but you're good at that.  You could give Anakin lessons."

A modest shrug, a tilt of the head, and another eye crinkle.

"You know, this has been a very frustrating few months, so if you don't try to kill me or deliver whatever message you have, I'm going to start trying to seduce you."

She narrowed her eyes and shook one finger at him.

"I know, I'm very naughty.  Now, why are you here?"

She swept her hand around the room.

"You're looking for Anakin."

Nod.

"He's not here.  I've sent him away to keep him safe."

She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, it seemed.  She raised her hand, in which a piece of white paper gleamed against the darkness.  The paper had been crumpled and smoothed back out.

"You aren't going to find him," Obi-Wan continued, dread creeping over his features.  He suddenly recognized the paper.  Anakin's note.  "You know."

Nod.

"Then why are you here?"

She smiled.  "Keep him safe, I will."

"You won't touch him."

She held up her hands, palms facing him, and lifted her shoulders.

"I don't believe you."

Her eyes clouded with anger.  Before he even saw her, she was off the bed, and her gloved hand had whipped across his cheek.  She was fast, but he was faster.  His fingers looped around her wrist, pulling her to him.  He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pinning her other arm to her side.  Her foot wrapped around his ankle, sending them both to the ground.

He pushed her over, and she let him...until the momentum took her to the position of superiority.  He used the same trick against her, and they rolled across the floor, until they bumped into the leg of Anakin's bed.  Obi-Wan found that a small piece of one of Anakin's models had been left on the floor and was now permanently imbedded in his shoulder.  And worse yet, he was on the bottom.  He kicked his legs up, curling his lower body over hers until he had flipped them all the way over.  Somehow, during the roll, she had twisted her shoulder under his, so she was on her stomach, with her hands pressed under her chest.  She pushed up and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, immobilizing her arms.  He was not expecting the next move.

Ronyne shifted her weight forward and off one knee, which she promptly drew up and drove back in a mule kick.  Obi-Wan immediately called on the Force to remove the pain from his throbbing groin, but his attention had slipped and she had escaped his embrace.  He looked up to see her sitting on Anakin's window sill.  She blew him a kiss, waved goodbye, and dropped out of sight.

**********

Anakin Skywalker woke up with no memory of falling asleep.

"Hey, Trank...Trank?"  He was also no longer buckled into the co-pilot's seat of the transport.  "Trank, where am I?"  He was in a small chamber with only one door and no windows.  He was cold.  "Where are you?"  He tried the door, but found it locked.  "This is not good," he told himself.  He could feel the ship landing -- which was probably what had woken him up.  "Trank!  I gotta get out so I can go to Naboo!"  No answer.  Anakin reached for his lightsaber and found it missing.  He wondered if it had fallen from his belt when Trank moved him after falling asleep.  He hoped it was that innocent.  Concentrating hard, Anakin used the Force to break apart the locking mechanism in the door.  He slipped out, silently apologizing to Trank and hoping he wouldn't have to pay for the door.  Obi-Wan had this annoying habit of finding ways for him to pay for various things he destroyed.  Obi-Wan. 

Anakin screwed up his face.  He was still mad at him.  How could he say that it wasn't right to free the slaves?  How could it be wrong to free a slave?  Did he really think it was wrong for Qui-Gon to free Anakin?  Maybe, Anakin's small rational voice told him, Obi-Wan was still mad about Qui-Gon's attempt to take Anakin as his Padawan.  After all, no matter what Qui-Gon had said after, Obi-Wan had still been his Padawan when he announced his intentions.  Tabling that topic for the time being, Anakin concentrated on working his way through the ship's corridors to the cockpit.  He never made it.

"A resourceful child."  Anakin turned a corner and came face to face with half a dozen strangers carrying assorted weaponry.  He swallowed hard and reached for the lightsaber that wasn't there.  Trank was behind the men, not meeting Anakin's accusing gaze.  One of the men was handing him a credit chit, and he shuffled off.  Anakin glanced around, searching for an escape route.  Men were walking up behind him.  He was about to be surrounded.  He thought of Obi-Wan's lessons in self-defense.  Too bad so many required a lightsaber.  Anakin kicked the nearest man in the shins, and ducked between the legs of the man behind him, taking off down the passageway.  He ran as fast as his short legs could take him, but he knew it was not going to be fast enough.  He drew on the Force to give him speed, and used it to summon any loose object he could identify, blocking the men chasing him.  He was nearly back where he started, and knew he had to find a new place to go.  Think, he told himself.  Where to go?  The cockpit.  Of course.  He jumped on the first ladder he saw, trying to use the Force to propel himself upward, but his concentration was not as it should be, after so much exertion, and he was resigned to scramble up the rungs on his own power.  He felt a hand grip his ankle, and then everything went black again.

**********

The Jedi Council gathered slowly, on Mace Windu's request.  The sun had not yet risen over the city of Coruscant.  When they had assembled, Mace Windu nodded to Ki-Adi-Mundi, who activated the transmission chit he had received a few short hours ago.  The flickering image of Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared.  He began with the usual honorifics, then began the explanation every person in the room had reason to dread.

"My Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, has had a price placed on him.  Whoever as dared such an act is keeping his identity well-hidden, but has made it quite clear to the mercenary community that Anakin is to be delivered alive.  I fear this may prove to be the more dangerous scenario.

"I was warned of this threat by a female bounty hunter of indeterminate age, with an affinity for sharp objects.  She claimed her interest in warning me stemmed solely from the desire for a greater challenge.

"My interaction with this bounty hunter, who calls herself Ronyne, as in the Corellian legend, has brought several disturbing facts to my attention.  She seems to be trained in the ways of the Jedi.  I have witnessed examples of Force-enhanced speed, movement of objects, and most disturbing of all, I can get no sense of her.  It is almost as if she does not exist at all.  And, Master Yoda, during one of her few verbal communications, she...seemed to be mocking you.

"Due to the danger to Padawan Skywalker's training, he has been removed to a location that shall remain undisclosed, lest this transmission be intercepted.  I shall remain on Malastare to investigate this matter."

Obi-Wan's image bowed slightly, flickered, and vanished.

The Council exchanged concerned glances.  "Troubling news, this is," Yoda rasped, leaning on his stick.

"Jedi Knight Kenobi sent his Padawan to safety?" Eeth Koth questioned.  "He did not allow the boy to learn and face his enemies?  Jedi do not run and hide."

"Skywalker may be dangerous," Mace Windu reminded his peers.

"And whoever wants him, wants him alive.  Kenobi was right to hide him."

"I don't like this, Master Windu," Depa Billaba said.  "It reeks of the Dark Side.  We must determine the identity of the bounty's sponsor."

"I agree," Windu nodded.  "And not only that...I want to know about this bounty hunter."

**********

Obi-Wan Kenobi ran his hands through his still-shortish hair and sat heavily on the dilapidated old couch Anakin had scrounged up somewhere.  He shifted to avoid a lump, but found another one in his new position.  Amazing how the couch could be eminently comfortable until his life went up in flames.  Now, even his couch had turned on him.  He stood again, and picked up the transmission device.  He turned it over in his hand and finally pushed the button to watch the transmission from Naboo, again.

Queen Amidala stood before him, resplendent in her court robes and ceremonial facepaint.  Her hair was twisted into an elaborate style that made her seem at least six inches taller than she really was.

"Jedi Kenobi," she said, her voice set in its regal diction, "we on Naboo have long been in your debt.  Even without regard for my own affection for Anakin, the Naboo would do whatever necessary to aid in your situation.  My personal transport is on its way to Macenek, piloted by the Captain of my Air and Space Corps.  Your Padawan will be kept safe. I promise you that, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan sighed as the transmission ended.  He believed Amidala.  The Nubians would keep Anakin safe from harm.  Ric Olie, who piloted the Queen's transport to Coruscant, through the Trade Federation blockade and back, would find him.  And Spath was confident in his friend.  Anakin would have no problem getting to Macenek.

**********

This can't be Macenek, Anakin thought, gloomily, staring into a huge pit.  He had woken up in some sort of cave structure, his hands and feet chained together.  He was now being held by a burly man on each side of him, and dangled over a sort of chamber imbedded in the rocky ground.

"Who are you, and what are you doing?" he called to the armored man who was studying the controls of the device.  "Why are you doing this to me?"

"'Cause you're worth a bundle, boy," the man replied, distractedly.

"Me?  I'm just a kid."

"Yeah, well, I don't know what the man's going to do with you, my job's just to deliver the goods."

"So you're going to drop me into a pit?"

"Why didn't I shackle your mouth?" the bounty hunter wondered, annoyed.

"What is this thing?"

"I dunno...they use it for mining.  Freeze it in carbonite, send it off.  Figure it'll work for humans.  You're too slippery to risk keeping awake."

Great.  Anakin swung himself between the two men, wondering how he was getting out of this one.

"Stop squirming, kid."

Anakin used his limited power of the Force to make the guy believe he was hanging perfectly still.  At just the right moment, he would make the guy believe he wanted to let go, and bam, he was back on solid ground.  He swung himself harder, bringing his feet high in front of him. Now...  He hoped the Jedi mind trick would work without him waving his hand.  Maybe the waving of his whole body would do the trick.

"You want to let me go," he announced, swinging hard.

"Why would I do that?"

Anakin's mind screamed in anger and frustration.  Calm, he reminded himself.  Patience.

"I am just a boy.  Let me go."

At that exact moment, as he swung out again, a small knife came flying from the darkness, catching one man in the shoulder, ripping his arm away from Anakin's hand.  Anakin's momentum threw him toward the lip of the pit, but he was pulled off balance by the other man's grip.  He hit the edge and was scrambling not to slip down the side.  The other man had fallen from the platform, and was now dangling from Anakin's arm.  Gravel slipped under Anakin's boots as he pushed with both feet.  His arm burned with the force of the man's weight, and he was almost positive it would fall off when the man suddenly let go.  Anakin rolled his way to safety, and bumped against a set of booted legs.  A hand jerked him upward, and the chains fell from his wrists and ankles.  Anakin glanced up to get a good look at his savior, but the figure was already sinking into the shadows.

"Run," it hissed in a gravelly whisper, snatching Anakin's hand and dragging him into the darkness of the unknown rock formations.  Anakin ran.

**********

He was dreaming about Bandomeer.  An ugly, little planet, where he was very nearly doomed to spend his life as an AgriCorps engineer.  Where he offered to blow himself up to save the entire population of the planet.  Where he earned his place as Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan learner.  He never dreamed about Bandomeer.  And yet, here he was, scrambling up through the layers of loose rock, through the dark tunnels.

He couldn't see.  He couldn't see a damn thing.  Something rained down on his head.  His feet slipped from under him.  He clawed at the air, praying for an exit.

And he was out, and he was no longer on Bandomeer, he was back on Malastare, but it was light, and he and Anakin were training.  They were running.  Running hard.  Running fast.  He was easily outpacing Anakin.  His longer legs and excellent conditioning carried him easily past his Padawan, and he knew he would need to work the boy harder.

"Faster Anakin!  Run faster!  Faster!"

He'd nearly gotten carried away that day, pushing the boy past his limits, yelling, not really at Anakin, but at himself, for not running fast enough to reach the melting pit before the shields reformed.  Not running fast enough to stay in the battle with the mysterious Sith.  Not running fast enough to save Qui-Gon.

He'd caught himself before any serious damage had occurred.  To this day, Anakin believed it was no more than a tough workout.  Only Obi-Wan knew how tenuous his control over the situation had been.

"Faster Anakin!  Run faster!  Faster!"  This time, he felt no wavering of control.  The boy had to run fast.  The boy had to run as fast as his stubby little legs would carry him.  Faster.  He had to use the Force.  Obi-Wan could not end this training exercise.  And yet, he was secure in his demands.  "RUN!  FASTER, ANI!  FASTER!"

**********

Anakin's small feet pounded the ground hard as he pressed to keep up with the wraith in front of him.  How anyone could run that fast in a cloak creating that much drag was beyond him.  The person was dressed all in black, and Anakin suspected the figure underneath was female, simply because of the small size and delicate limbs.  She ran without tiring, and Anakin's mind was brought back to Obi-Wan.  He chided himself, knowing he should be concentrating on the movement of his arms and legs in synchronization, of making the ground move under him, but all he could hear was Obi-Wan shouting at him.

"Faster Anakin!  Run faster!  Faster!"  The phrase repeated itself over and over in Anakin's mind, not letting him give his sore and tired body a moment's quarter, pushing himself as hard as he could.  Even Obi-Wan had calmed down eventually, but in Anakin's mind, he would not stop shouting, and Anakin would not slow down.  He saw himself running next to Obi-Wan, imagining himself racing him, running hard, ignoring the distance, pretending there was no one after him, pretending it was only a Master and a Padawan, trying hard to prove each other the better runner.  He stretched out his legs, drawing the Force to move his body faster, give him strength, and remove his weariness.  This technique finally proved successful, and Anakin managed to stay only a few steps behind his rescuer until she wheeled to the left, whipping out a control and opening the door to a small, private spacecraft, well-hidden amongst the leaves.

"In," she hissed, pushing him through the door and throwing herself in the pilot's seat.  Anakin scrambled into the co-pilot's place, a quick glance at the instrument panel orienting him with the controls.  She toggled the air-intake valve, ignited the engines, and adjusted the fuel intake.  Within seconds, the tiny craft was airborne and headed through the polluted atmosphere of Bandomeer.

"Hey, um, thanks for saving me, there," Anakin said, curious about the figure next to him.  "My name's Anakin.  What's yours?"

The hood turned toward him for a split second.  It was too dark to see any part of her face, and Anakin wondered if there was really any corporeal body inside the folds of black cloth.  He waited what seemed like an eternity to hear the gravelly voice finally whisper, "Ronyne."
 
**********

Obi-Wan shot straight up.  The sheets were twisted around his legs, and soaked with sweat.  He kicked them off, impatiently, and stood, wearing only his breeches, in the tiny room.  He took several deep breaths, gathering air into his lungs and rolling the tight muscles in his shoulders.  His pounding heart began to subside to its normal rhythm, and breathing became easier.  He gathered the calm the Force provided around him like a cool blanket.  The night was hot, but a soft breeze ruffled his hair and dried the sweat on his face.  It brought the scents of Anakin's tree, from the backyard, of the motor grease and oil that seemed to associate itself with Anakin, and of...smoke?  Obi-Wan sniffed and lifted one of his robes, pressing it to his face.  It smelled of the thick, cloying smoke that had obscured his senses in the cantina.  But the smell was not coming from the robes.  He dropped the garment, scooping up his lightsaber as he padded hastily for Anakin's room.  He paused outside the door, listening, then slammed the door open.  The room was empty.
 
**********

"Ronyne?  Are you the bounty hunter?"  Anakin's eyes widened to resemble china blue versions of Obi-Wan's horrendous keth patties.  He couldn't believe he had just gotten saved by a real, live bounty hunter.  Not only that, but a real, live, legendary bounty hunter.  Her head moved marginally in an affirmative nod.  "Wow!  That's so wizard!  Did you really get burned up in a ship explosion?  How many guys have you killed?  Can I see your knives?  How come you saved me?"

His answer was a backhand across the head that stole his consciousness.

*********

"Explain your statement."

"Well, Your Highness," Ric Olie said, over the long-distance transmission, "if Anakin left this morning, and he was on a decent ship, the latest he should have been here was an hour ago.  If that boy's on this R&R, I'll eat my wings."

"That won't be necessary, Captain Olie."  The Queen suppressed a smile.  "Possibly his ship was detained.  Or he already found a ride to Naboo.  He is a small boy, and small boys are excellent seekers of small nooks and crannies."

"I'll keep looking," Ric Olie conceded.  "I won't leave here 'til I know where that kid got himself off to."

"Very well."  Amidala ended the transmission and looked back at her handmaidens, worriedly.  "How likely is it that Anakin has already been detained by a bounty hunter?" she asked the room in general.

"Do not fret, m'lady," Saché said, practically.  "Young Anakin is training to be a Jedi.  They are a most resourceful people."

"His Master certainly looks resourceful," Sabé said, smiling at her Queen.  "It was certainly fun to watch his resources travel themselves around the ship while we were on Tatooine."

"Sabé!  For shame!  Making eyes at Jedi Kenobi!"  Amidala could not help but to laugh with Sabé and her other handmaidens.  Eirtaé exchanged glances with Rabé.  At least the Queen was laughing.  What else were handmaidens for?

**********

Anakin opened his eyes and sighed.  He was tired of waking up in strange places with no memories of going to sleep.  This time he seemed to be in a small metal cage.  He started to sit up and cracked his head on the ceiling.  He kicked and encountered more metal.  He pushed to the side.  He looked up and saw that the part in front of him was grated.  He pushed, and it gave a little, but not enough.  Then, he realized it was a door and that the latch could easily be tripped from the inside.  He opened the door and nearly fell out, before he realized he was in a top-row locker in some sort of terminal.  He wriggled around until he could slide out and land safely on two feet.  He sighed and looked around.  Where could he possibly be, now?  He wandered through several more locker rooms, following signs that advertised "Main Concourse" i