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As to the slaveboy, it was obvious that he'd been severely punished for his runaway attempt- though he bore no outward marks he walked behind his owners with his head positively hanging, eyes so downcast it was difficult to tell how he managed to walk without bumping into things. He especially did not look at the female slave.
There was a short woman in her early fourties, with close-cropped blonde hair, waiting for them. Apparently Governor Yuria had grown tired of waiting for them.
"Hello," she said, bowing to Obi-Wan and Sabe politely, but briskly. "I'm Governor Yuria, welcome to the Hoth Colonies." Sharp grey eyes narrowed. "I heard you had a bit of a mishap last night."
Obi-Wan didn't even bother to shrug, voice the even and serene tones of a businessman of assurance, not bravado. "Thank you for your greeting and your concern, Governor Yuria." He bowed politely. "The mishap will not be repeated."
The female slave waited with eyes politely downcast, left hand resting delicately beneath her right elbow in a mute support of the wounded arm in addition to its sling. One would have thought the slight flush to her cheeks was embarrassment at the mention of the midnight excursion into this world's perpetually darkened snowdrifts, but Padme had an entirely different, hopeful bit of information on her mind.
There, in the women's section of the slave bacta tanks, she'd found an old friend.
Corde's here. She's here and she's /alive/.
Hoth had been the right choice. Even though it had been dangerous and she never wanted to do so again, getting mauled and then taken back to the mediccal facilities had proven without a doubt that whoever had taken the Naboo children had stopped here.
"Mm," said Yuria, without any further comment, and gestured for them to follow her. She led them down a short corridor and into a large and well furnished office, surprisingly well warmed. The door hissed shut smartly behind them. The woman leaned against the fine desk and folded her arms, giving Sabe, and especially Obi-Wan, a sharp look.
"Well," she said, "Exactly what business brings you here?"
"My wife and I are curious about the last few shipments of child slaves Hoth may have had." He crossed his arms comfortably, ostensibly admiring the craftsmanship of the office. "We're in the market for some new help, individuals we can train before they develop any bad habits."
(Obi-Wan is a badass actor. o.o He REALLY hates doing this.)
Yoinomyoujou: (Daaamn, yo.)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: .......... *inner TEETHCLENCH*)
"Bad habits like running away," said the governor, eyeing Anakin thoughtfully. The boy kept his eyes downcast, and said nothing, not even inwardly to Obi-Wan- he hadn't actually spoke a word to Obi-Wan all day. "I hope you don't mind if I ask you a somewhat personal question."
The bearded man raised his eyebrows amiably with a calm look towards his beautiful wife. His question was soft-voiced, only wondering genially about the change in topic. "Do you often ask personal questions of your visitors, Governor?"
"Where did you purchase this slave?" She left her desk and walked towards Anakin, touching his face lightly- she had to reach up far to do so. He was almost a full foot taller than she was. Her hand touched the bandage momentarily. The boy, for his part, did not move, nor did he raise his eyes, though he vibrated a sudden, angry tension at the uninvited contact. "And what," continued the Governor, "did he do to his head?"
If Obi-Wan felt any irritation at the woman's unasked-for inspection of his property, he did not show it. "The boy is clumsy at times, and always manages to land in the worst possible spot that yet allows him to remain alive." The man smiled a little under his beard, stroking it thoughtfully. "He's a rather hapless little fellow."
The female slave pointedly did not change her expression, instead staring at the floor.
Her master continued, "And what of our request, Governor? Do you think there were any shipments bearing children that would be worth our attention?"
"That depends on your actual motivations, sir," Yuria snapped, shooting him a genuinely poisonous look. "You're lying to me."
Anakin spared his Master a momentary, nervous glance- she was still touching him.
Padme didn't look up from the floor- she flicked her gaze sideways instead, to where the governor of Hoth stood next to Anakin.
Peaceful as always, Obi-Wan cocked his head gently, that very gentleness that made him so dangerous. "How have we been lying to you, Madam? We are looking for children, I can assure you of that."
Despite her height it took her only a swift, short movement to rip the bandage away from Anakin's head, to seize the Padawan braid at his ear and pull on it, dragging him down closer to her level before he even really realized what had happened; that split second passed quickly, though, and he grabbed her wrist with equal swiftness, half leaned and half balanced to the right side, eyes wide with surprise.
"What a fashion statement," Yuria declared, still glaring at Obi-Wan. Sabe, at his side, had one hand on her blaster, had moved in front of Padme, though her expression had not changed in the slightest.
Obi-Wan smiled, ever calm, arms still confidently crossed. "I'm sure we don't wish to start a fight, Governor."
Anakin's expression had moved from surprised and into tense and angry, though he hadn't moved at all. He was following Obi-Wan's lead.
Governor Yuria lifted her chin imperially. "Then tell me what you /really/ want, Jedi, and perhaps /then/ we can have this conversation."
"We /do/ want children, Governor Yuria." Obi-Wan sent a feeling of calm to his Padawan, motioning him down from that cliff of anger. "A group of young Refugee Relief Movement volunteers who disappeared from the wild planet of Tooai nearly four weeks ago. After last night's mishap-" He finally uncrossed one arm to gesture quietly at Padme, safe and secure behind the firm shield of Sabe. "-we recognized the adult chaperone of that group in one of your bacta tanks, much the worse for wear."
He cocked his head again, firm and quiet. "Information regarding the missing children is all we want, Governor. Nothing else regarding this colony will be touched by the Jedi."
The woman's jaw was set tightly, but she released Anakin's braid; the youth scowled at her and retreated behind Obi-Wan's left shoulder, though, being taller now than his Master, it didn't give him much shelter. He rubbed the sore skin of his scalp and remained silent.
"It will prove to be difficult," said Yuria, a little calmer now that the truth had come out. "The government here does not regulate the slave trade. The best I can do for you is offer you the names of the biggest sellers on the colony. Oh, and..." She leaned over and took something silver and cylinder shaped off her desk, and offered it to Obi-Wan. "...I believe this belongs to you."
"Thank you for your efforts, Governor." Obi-Wan bowed, then looked at the metal cylinder the woman held with an intensely reserved look that changed to grave and respectful as he took it from her and palmed it to the waiting boy behind him.
/Hold/ this, Anakin.
There was the ominous promise of a Discussion in Anakin's future.
"And we apologize for the inconvenience."
However far Anakin's presence had retreated from him earlier in the day, it now took another good long step back, and hunkered down in misery. He reattached the lightsaber to his belt without an outward word, and cast his eyes to the ground once again.
I'm sorry.
It was the first thing he'd said to Obi-Wan all day.
Yuria waved him off with a brief gesture. "Wait here," she said. "I'll go fetch the records."
Obi-Wan did wait. He crossed his arms and waited, gently, while the wet slap of ice melting outside the governor's windows hit the sill and dribbled down to the freezing street below.
Then it began.
Anakin, what have I told you about your lightsaber?
Padme Amidala frowned and looked askance at her best friend. The strained mood between the two Jedi worried her.
Sabe glanced back at Padme, and shifted to put a hand on her arm, lightly. Her expression said that she was fairly certain what this was about.
Anakin shifted his weight, unhappily, and looked everywhere but at his teacher. You don't have to say it again, okay? I know.
Padme moved into Sabe's touch, distinctly unhappy and ready for some form of physical comfort.
No. I do have to.
His Master's firm resolve was tangible.
As it is obvious you did not hear all the previous times I've spoken to you about it. Anakin, the lightsaber of a Jedi is a sacred thing. The weapon that you wear in your belt is an extension of your Force-power, sustained by the very Force that sustains /you/. With your lightsaber, you can protect yourself from all the dangers that a Jedi must face, whether alone or in the company of another Jedi. With your lightsaber, you can protect /others/ from dangers too dire for them to face alone, as your sworn duty as a Jedi decrees. The Force is your ally, Anakin, and your lightsaber acts as its tool. A very profound tool. Your lightsaber is not merely a tool of the Force- it is an extension of your /pledge/, your /self/, and your /life/. Do not be careless with it.
AraiYasha: (*claps!*)
Yoinomyoujou: (WOW. OBI-WAN WINS.)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *ARE YOU LISTENING, ANAKIN?*)
There was a familiar little set to Anakin's jaw as Obi-Wan spoke, that grew tighter and tighter with every word, a narrowing of his eyes and a heaviness to his shoulders. It spoke of rebellion and of hurt, impatience and disappointment and it did not hide the faint glittering of his eyes. Anakin was wounded, and tired, and the weight of his irresponsibility was already heavy against his back; he said nothing to Obi-Wan's tirade, did not nod or murmur or do anything but stand there, defeated and angry and quietly forlorn.
Sabe's arm stole around Padme's waist, supporting in silence, as was her way.
A minute or two passed in silence, the bearded Jedi reining in his considerable upset and letting it flow away into calm.
...My Padawan.
Here the words were soft and warm, the loving, exasperted term used by a patient teacher tried again and again by the unruly determination of his pupil. Take better care of yourself. Please. Do not frighten me like that again.
And there it was, honest. The root of Obi-Wan Kenobi's upset.
Yoinomyoujou: (ANAKIN JUST REALLY DESPERATELY NEEDS TO KNOW OBI-WAN DOESN'T HATE HIM)
Yoinomyoujou: (IN GENERAL, I MEAN)
Yoinomyoujou: (He needs reaffirmation a lot.)
AraiYasha: (OKAY)
Yoinomyoujou: (He's just stupid and like, "meh".)
AraiYasha: (OBI-WAN'S GIVING IT TO HIM. REAFFIRMATION, SUNNY SIDE UP!)
I didn't mean to, Anakin said at last, brow tightly knotted. His lips twitched momentarily, as though he were going to speak out loud, but thought better of it. There was warmth now, and that was better than the cold calm, but disappointment was still in evidence. That, in many ways, could be worse than anger. I'm sorry, Master, I didn't mean to let you down.
Don't do it again. Water reached for fire and pulled that reclusive, retreating presence deep into its fold, cradling it there in the protective, fatherly way he used to when the young man was still a young boy, so afraid and so small. ...You know I cannot stand to see you hurt.
And there was feeling there, deep and uncomplicated, completely free of disgust or loathing yet utterly full of pride, concern, and a fondness that could only be called love.
We're going to work on your meditation the first chance we get, Anakin- you had a few moments of good concentration within the Force before you lost focus, and I want to extend those moments as far as we can take them.
Yoinomyoujou: (SDsfg AWW. <3)
Yoinomyoujou: (A____A Obi-Wan is a good daddy. He really really is.)
AraiYasha: (Scold, then work on the positive. That's Obi-Wan's way.)
For the moment Anakin pressed close to him; though outwardly his position did not change, his internal reaction was one of quiet relief, of gratitude, of genuine regret. Obi-Wan was shelter, and safety, and despite his rebellion and his attitude, Anakin had no desire to disappoint him.
Yes, Master, he said quietly, but with less resistance, and more genuine feeling. His was the impression of a small child, clinging momentarily to a parent's leg. I'll try.
Obi-Wan gave the mental presence of the boy another squeeze. Remember to check your lightsaber before you use it again. There's no telling how many hands it passed through before reaching the governor's office, and it might have been tampered with.
He became even more serious. ...And on the matter of those unknown hands... Hide your lightsaber well. Jedi have far too many enemies here, and we wish avoid confrontation. It's possible that certain individuals already know what we are. Be mindful.
Yes, Master, Anakin repeated, and lifted his head finally, giving Obi-Wan a small, tight smile. I'll be mindful. Some of that awful weight left his shoulders, and his hand went to the lightsaber at his belt. It seems all right, in any case.
Mm... Obi-Wan patted his Padawan one last time before observing quietly, "I cannot help but wonder how many people are aware of our presence here."
'Our presence' had a certain ring to it that spoke of great caution; obviously now that the governor knew, someone else knew as well.
The corners of her mouth tightening slightly, Padme gave Sabe a look.
"You think the Governor is involved with others, perhaps," Sabe said quietly, releasing her grip on Padme. "It's possible. It's also possible she's lying to us. Do you think we can trust her?"
"I'm afraid the only people we can trust are ourselves." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "We'll have to move quickly. Even if we can trust the governor, she does not represent the true powers in Hoth."
"Quite right I don't," Yuria said agreeably, striding back into the room with flimsi in hand, without looking up at any of them. "I've got your list here. Three main sellers and a series of lesser ones." She held the paper out to Obi-Wan.
"Thank you," bowed Obi-Wan without missing a beat as he took the unorthodox method of record from the overwrought governor. "We shall conduct our enquiries as swiftly and quietly as possible- May I ask you a question?" He smiled beautifully. "Not a personal one, I assure you."
For the first time she smiled, herself, though it was a small, tight expression, and wary. "Ask."
"Who discovered it?" He did not elaborate upon the 'it.'
"One of my personal teams," she replied, and lifted an eyebrow. "Why? Concerned about betrayal, Master Jedi? Don't be. They're my men. They're trustworthy as long as I tell them to be."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in return. "Have you been watching our movements since we arrived?"
"Yes." A simple, unelaborate answer.
"I see. What else can we improve on, besides the obvious?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. I'm Coruscanti, I know Jedi when I see them. Your boy's pretty-" Anakin scowled and rubbed the place where his braid joined his scalp, again, "-and you don't treat him like a pleasure slave. And a labor slave isn't worth that much medical treatment, no matter how strong he is."
AraiYasha: (.......... *LOL*
Obi-Wan: /........../ *he is not a pleasure slave*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *Master, calm down*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Yuria: e_e)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *has had /enough/ of that, thank you*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *don't get bend out of shape* *it's over now*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *......*)
AraiYasha: ((Obi-Wan hisses and spits. XD))
Yoinomyoujou: ((*L* Well it's upsetting! ...Qui-Gon would've been furious if it had happened to Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon: *it never came quite to that, but there were a few... incidents...*))
AraiYasha: ((Obi-Wan: *don't remind me*))
Obi-Wan Kenobi's eyebrow twitched a little during a certain comment in Yuria's explanatory diatribe, but otherwise he remained placid, the perfect example of proper Jedi behavior. "Ah. Good." He bowed once more, the list of traffickers in living flesh tucked safely away in his coat. "In that case, may we consider our audience with you adjorned? We have quite a bit to do in a short amount of time- without disturbing your status quo."
AraiYasha: (Aaaaaaaaand meanwhile, Rabe and Eirtae are playing cards with Artoo.)
"Adjorned." Yuria waved a hand. "Be off with you, and don't cause me any trouble."
Sabe took Padme firmly by the good arm, to steer her out. Clearly she'd had enough. Anakin hung by Obi-Wan's side.
The undercover slave girl followed her mistress without a word of protest, silently lost in concerned and excited thought.
All right, Anakin.
His teacher gestured for the boy to move in front and sandwich himself between the handmaidens and Obi-Wan. He folded his hands into his sleeves calmly, a common enough gesture of warmth upon Hoth rather than a behavior particular to Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. We'll cover more ground if we split into two groups; Sabe and I will check the names, you and Padme will run errands. The bearded Jedi gave his Padawan an intensely firm look. Try to contain yourself today.
Of course, Anakin said, falling obediently into place. His eyes were on Padme's back as they walked, the line of bandaging that disappeared into the neckline of her clothing. His braid swung free at his ear, forgotten for the moment- he'd grown so accustomed to the tickle of it against his face that he didn't even notice it. There was still a hint of the darkness around the skin beneath his eyes, but he moved with the grace of a fighter who is not concetrating on his steps, and to those who could see it the Force billowed about him like a cloak of fire, trailing after him, a comet's tail of raw, untamed power.
Errands? Are we going to the market, then?
Obi-Wan caught his Padawan's braid delicately, without pulling, and carefully wrapped it back inside the bandages, multitasking with the amazing grace only a Jedi could muster. Yes, you are going to market. As slaves, you can disappear into the crowd and ask questions of other slaves without arousing too much suspicion. You might as well look for supplies. It could be a while before we stop again.
Anakin gave him a brief glance from the corner of his eye as Obi-Wan's hand moved to his braid, the smallest twist of his lips, the expression familiar. And where are you going?
To make inquiries regarding this list, of course. Obi-Wan finished the wrapping with a satisfied pat. The governor gave it to us; it's useful in some capacity at least.
Be careful? Not a question, but a request, soft, but the vulnerability of it covered swiftly by the addition: I'd hate to have to interrupt my own mission to save you, Master.
Again that comforting rush of warm water, the addition of a physical arm squeeze a small thing within that tide of mental reassurance. We will be. Don't get into trouble yourself.
Me? Trouble? Never. There was that touch of a smile again, and then Anakin pulled away from him, touched Padme's shoulder lightly. "Marketplace," he murmured in her ear, doing his best not to linger there. "Supplies and information."
Sabe glanced at him, but said nothing.
She nodded a little; it could have been a nervous headshake from a slave woman uncomfortable with her arm brace, but Padme adjusted it quietly and kept walking behind her mistress. In front of the slave boy.
The Hoth Market was surprisingly occupied, for such a hostile planet. Colonists of all shape and size, merchants and slaves alike, though the slaves they encountered were huddled, miserable looking creatures, whose clothing seemed only just barely warm enough to keep out the chill.
Anakin walked with his head lowered, at Padme's elbow, senses extended for danger.
"How's your arm?" he asked quietly, after a moment, underbreath.
"It's fine." She skimmed the huddled groups of slaves distractedly with her eyes, quietly disappointed to see the masses were full of adults instead of young ones. "I should have full use of it in a day or two."
"I'm really sorry." He hadn't had a chance to apologize for it previously, and when he said the words there was a tangible level of guilt in them. "I was stupid, and I put you in danger."
She turned to him then, put her hand gently on his arm. "It's all right, Anakin." Padme's smile was soft, hopeful. "We would never have found Corde otherwise. Besides-" She shrugged a little. "It's not so bad."
She was smiling, and it was enough to ease the guilt that clenched at his heart, enough to draw a smile from him in return. "It won't happen again," he pledged, and covered her hand with his own in one bold and daring moment. "I promise."
She smiled again, glad he wasn't so guilt-ridden anymore. "Come on." She pulled him by their joined hands. "Let's see if we can find anything on that list."
Yoinomyoujou: (And now he explodes with glee because SHE IS TOUCHING ME OH GOLLY)
AraiYasha: (THROUGH THEIR GLOVES OMG)
Yoinomyoujou: (HE DOES NOT CARRRRREEEE)
AraiYasha: (*LMFAO* Wow, the kid is gone. Gone, gone, gone in love.)
Yoinomyoujou: (He really, really is. He is hopelessly in love with her, he can see no other woman, honestly. Sabe's hot, yo, and he's barely even looked at her.)
AraiYasha: (...Wow. o.o ...I was thinking of implying lesbianism in regards to Padme later, but that would be too cruel.)
Yoinomyoujou: (HAHAHA Oh god he would be like, ".................;_____________________
AraiYasha: (*L* There would be tears. Poor kid. Which means I can't do it.)
AraiYasha: (For long. ^,^)
His own smile grew, a simple joy at the feeling of her hand in his, and he let her tug him along, through the snowy metal-reinforced streets, past street vendors who called to them to come and spend their masters' money.
"Let me see it," he said, pulling the flimsi out of his jacket to have a look at it. "We need more emergency rations..."
"Hm..." Padme looked around at the storefronts around the icy patch where they stood. The closest places seemed to be scrapyards and droid merchants. Her breath puffed out in clouds. "I don't think I see anyplace where we can get-"
She suddenly stopped in mid-sentence and looked downwards; there was a small blonde child of indeterminate sex attached to her leg. She bent down to pat it on the head. "...Hello."
The child said nothing, only squeezed tighter.
"Loolee, get back inside!" A boy of about thirteen, with dark brown hair and freckles, waited just at the door to one of the scrapheaps and tapped the doorframe with his clipboard, looking slightly irritated. "You have to stop capturing customers. Someone will eventually hit you." Seeing that the child had no intention of letting go, the boy sighed and huffed the hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry, miss."
Padme simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "...Exactly what do you have for sale in there?"
"This and that."
Anakin eyed the boy in the doorway in silence, finding something familiar in this scene. A memory, perhaps, of a time long past, for him.
He knelt, finally, folding his height enough that he was closer to eye level with the small blonde child. He made no move to touch, only said, quietly, "We'll come in. You can let go."
Loolee stared silently at him with big, dark brown eyes. Then the child released Padme's leg, still holding a handful of material in one tiny fist so it could pull the slave girl inside.
The boy moved ahead, clearing unruly bits and folding parts out of the way and absently swatting at an errant droid or two. It wasn't the neatest of establishments, nor was it the most derelict; whoever ran the place seemed to like keeping in the comfortably grubby middle of the fiscal spectrum. "You got a list of what you need?" He tapped a little at a nearby computer. "I could check the inventory if you like."
Padme didn't try to dislodge the little child from her clothes, instead quietly looking around the shop with interest. This was also a familiar situation for her. "Is this normally how you get customers?"
"Nah. You're a rare case." The freckled boy didn't even look up from his work. "Loolee, she's not going anywhere. You really can let go."
The child let go. But it still leaned against Padme.
Anakin put the flimsi on the countertop without comment on it; he was glancing around the shop with equal interest, noting machine parts, broken or ill-working droids. At last he reached over casually, opened the starter panel on an ancient and loudly clanking astromech, and twiddled a few wires without even looking at them.
"You running this place for someone else?" he asked, giving the droid a final tweak. It beeped, once, and then again as he closed the panel. The ugly clanking sound ceased entirely.
The boy took the flimsi and gave it a few cursory glances, typing with one hand. "...Yeah, our master's in a meeting right now." He shook his head. "Be glad you're just passing through."
Padme looked up from where she was playing with the shy child. "We never said we were passing through."
The boy put up one finger. "But you are." He put down the flimsi and squinted at the screen. "Oh. Good. We've got a couple of those." He looked sideways at Anakin, observing the open wires with a slightly disapproving look. "But you may have to fix them before use."
Anakin smiled thinly. "If it's machine, fixing it won't be an issue." He patted the repaired astromech lightly. "Why are we glad your master's not here?"
The boy gave him another disapproving look. "I said, 'Be glad you're just passing through.' Our master's a decent enough guy." He turned around and started shuffling through old parts. "Not his fault this crazy colony's about to explode- Hey, Ficha! Where's the 6599-87 capacitor part?"
A young girl's voice floated through from a separate room, halfway hidden behind a lot of blaster shields propped against the wall. "I'm sorting the rummage bin!"
"Do you know where the part is?"
"/No./"
"Would you come out here and help me look for it?"
"I don't even know what it looks like, Ruwee! We've only been here three weeks, how can you expect me to memorize EVERYTHING?"
Yoinomyoujou: (....Ohooo, have we found what we're looking for, here?)
AraiYasha: (XD Yep.)
Yoinomyoujou: (Are they all from the group, or...)
Yoinomyoujou: (And has Padme noticed?)
AraiYasha: (All. Their master used to run the place alone. And OH, yes, Padme's noticed. She knows them all personally, especially Ruwee.)
Yoinomyoujou: (have they not recognized HER?)
AraiYasha: (*L* Ruwee HAS. And the little blonde kid. Ficha's been in the back.)
AraiYasha: (*cackle* Ruwee's just LIKE this normally. *LOVES HIM*)
AraiYasha: (He is TEH ULTIMATE DEADPAN.)
Anakin blinked, once, and then again, and touched Padme's mind without looking at her. His right hand moved to his hip but did nothing to clear the weapon hidden there. His guard had suddenly gone up.
This is what we're looking for? Just nod.
To the boy he said, easily, "Extra help might be a good idea. In fact, maybe you could help us carry some of this."
Padme squeezed the little blonde child happily, the reply to Anakin's question coming easily, joyfully. Yes.
The boy named Ruwee gave him another look, serious. "We don't leave the shop unless the old guy's here. He'd worry." And appeared to be all the boy had to say on the matter, because he went back to sorting.
"Ruwee, if you want the stupid part, you have to come back here yourself!"
The young Jedi was trying to think as quickly and carefully as possible. Problem solving tended to be easier for him when there was more pressure and less time to doubt a choice. He opted at last for a slightly older trick, very simple, and enough to show that he and Padme were on the same side. A careful movement of the right hand lifted his coat just enough to show the lightsaber hidden beneath his heavy clothing, a momentary glimpse of the galactic symbol of safety while the boy was still looking at him.
"You're fond of your master," he said, carrying on the conversation without a change of expression. "You're lucky. Mine's not so nice."
Ruwee's expression didn't change in the slightest, taking in the recent wounds. "Hm, he must be a real taskmaster- Ficha, I'm not going back there!"
Finally, the dark-haired girl who must be Ficha stomped out of the back room, waving a twisted piece of metal in the air. "RUWEE, do you want me to shove this- .....oh."
Padme smiled at her. "Hello."
AraiYasha: (Ficha: *......Ru, I'm going to kill you*
Ruwee: *I never call you to the front* *use your brain*
Ficha: *shut up*)
Is there a reason why we can't just take them now and find the others? Anakin said to Padme, then added, Think of the answer really hard, I'll hear you.
"Hi," he said to Ficha, smiling wanly. "We are, apparently, just passing through."
Ficha stomped her foot. "I should hope so, the others aren't here!" She turned to Ruwee. "WHY didn't you SAY who was out in the main room!"
The boy shrugged. "You were doing your job."
Well, that answered that. Anakin coughed, trying to be businesslike. "All right," he said, "Do you three have everything you need? We need to regroup with the others, and get you out of here-"
He stretched for Obi-Wan, found familiar presence, murmured in his proverbial ear, We've found some of the children. They're here, safe.
The older Jedi reacted with great pleasure. That was very quick. Good!
"If you mean /our/ others, they're not on Hoth." Ruwee continued checking inventory.
"What do you mean?" Padme had Loolee in her lap now, and the blonde child was absently playing with her sling.
"He means they're not here," Ficha's voice floated back from that extra room, where assorted clankings and shiftings were heard as she packed. "Corde created a distraction and they took over the slavers' ship."
Padme grinned a little, surprised but not so surprised. "Really."
"Yeah. We're the only ones besides Corde who got linked."
The grin faded. "Ah. I see."
Do you want us to meet you? Anakin went on, focusing on his contact with Obi-Wan. Or should we wait here, Master? I think if we wait we run the risk of the master returning for the children.
Perhaps meeting us would not be the best idea, Anakin. Obi-Wan had another, verbal, conversation going on at the moment, and it was becoming a bit tricky. We may have to extract the children by other means- have they been linked?
So they say. The conversation in the background was distracting, as well, and Anakin moved towards the doorway to avoid further noise. Do you think it's best if we wait and return under other circumstances? I suppose the Handmaidens could try to pull off another trick like they did with us...
I'm not sure if that will work this time, Anakin- the Rajah knew for certain that he was in the wrong, and the Ambassador left him a door which he could exit gracefully. These people seem a more rough and tumble sort, if you don't mind my saying so.
"Who is your master?" Padme was playing with the long strands of Loolee's hair.
"As I said, he's a pretty decent guy- he only wanted one labor slave, but he didn't have a problem buying Ficha and Loolee as well."
The blonde child spoke for the first time, in a sweet, shy, soft voice. "Hurdn is a good man."
I know what you mean. Anakin frowned, and moved beyond the threshhold of the door, out into the cold and the sunlight to concentrate better. What do you propose then, Master? He shot a brief glance in through the doorway, to ensure that there were no ugly surprises coming out of nowhere for the children or Padme. They're talking about their master now- they say he's not so bad, apparently... I think they'd be safe with him for a little longer. Maybe we could even barter to buy.
That would be preferable. We'll discuss what we have to barter with as soon as we regroup- Anakin, please don't move so far off by yourself.
And from his Padawan there was no answer, not even presence, suddenly. It was as though he'd simply vanished in mid-connection.
Within the shop, there was no scent, no sight, no sound, but a sense of sudden, overwhelming dizziness, a rising of darkness that seemed impossible to avoid.
(And yes, that was a PADAWAN KIDNAPPING.)
