Hidden, Star Wars, Yoda, Bail Organa, Padme Amidala, Rated G
Title: Hidden
Fandom: Star Wars
Author: starkravinggood
Characters: Yoda, Bail Organa, Padme Amidala
Rating: Rated G
Word Count: about 800
Disclaimers: This is fanfiction and these characters were created by George Lucas.
Summary: How different would the story have been if Padme Amidala had survived?
Hidden
Yoda slowly paced the cold, almost bare room, his gait unsteady and his small form bent even more than usual. He leaned on his gimer stick, clutching it tightly. The events of the past few days weighed on his mind, dark and heavy and painful in their intensity. He fought against the instinctive urge to reach out with the Force, to reach out to his surroundings as he always had for many, many years. But he would not endanger the ship and its occupants. He would not endanger the man who had provided invaluable help to the last remnants of the Jedi Order.
The door opened silently and Bail Organa’s form filled the doorway. Yoda knew from the look on the Senator’s face that he had been unsuccessful in his quest.
“I can find no trace of her. I’ve had every inch of this ship searched.” He stood looking down at the aged Jedi Master, his face serious and tired, smudges ringing his dark eyes.
Yoda nodded thoughtfully. “Escaped she must have, though impossible it seems.”
Bail lowered himself onto a chair. “There were two small supply ships docked with us. She must have slipped onto one of them. It’s the only way. I’ve already had them searched at their destinations but there was no evidence she’d been on one of them.”
“No, no. Evidence she would not leave behind.”
“She…she could be ill. Hurting. The labor was very difficult.” Bail rubbed at his tired, bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t felt this tired in a long time. Not since Zigoola.
“A strong woman she is. Survive she will.”
“What of the children? She must think they are dead or she wouldn’t have left them.”
Yoda pondered the words for a moment before coming to a decision. “Think them dead, perhaps she does. If not, proceed with the plan we must anyway. All depends on it.”
“Any word of Obi-Wan?”
“No. And none there will be. This he knows. In secret he will stay. As will I.”
Bail nodded, sighed deeply and stood. “We’ll rendezvous with the other ship whenever you are ready. But are you sure you want to exile yourself? We…we need you.”
Yoda shook his head emphatically. “A liability to you I would be. Search for me Palpatine will.”
“But what about…what about Padme? I shall keep looking, of course.”
“Look you shall. But find her…I think not.”
“You know this? You’ve…seen it?”
Yoda lowered his head tiredly, the thin wisps of hair floated round his ears. “Shadowed the Force is. Hard to see things are. But know her I do and find her we will not. Hurt…very hurt she has been and a cure for her pain there is not.”
Bail licked his lips nervously, wanting to ask but oddly afraid to. “Do you think…she wouldn’t…go to him, would she?”
Yoda grasped the stick tightly. “No. Dead Skywalker is. To her as well.”
“Yes, Master Yoda.” Bail bowed quickly and left the room.
Yoda stood lost in thought, his hands twisting the old stick round and round until his skin tingled. “Yes. Dead Anakin Skywalker must stay, or suffer we all.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She shivered in the cold breeze that drifted briskly down the old walkway. The air was thinner here and seemed tinged with a strange mintiness that burned her nostrils and the back of her throat. She hurt. More than she ever had before. She had tried lying down and floating away, hoping never to return. But a shopkeeper had tripped over her and then had angrily grasped her by her arms and pulled her roughly to her feet. After several angry words she did not comprehend, he had flung her violently away. Her body had screamed in protest, and she had instinctively clasped her arms across her sore belly, in too much pain to protest his brutality. She had staggered away until she’d found the little alcove she now huddled in.
She thought perhaps she ought to remember something but her mind was like a stream of water that never seemed to stop, racing quickly from one odd thing to another with no comprehension at all. Her hand gently massaged her abdomen which felt odd, almost numb, and soft and squishy to the touch. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten and what it had been, but her stomach rumbled painfully now.
A face swam across her muddled mind and she struggled to focus on it. What had he said? The man who had been so angry with her. He had said something to her and she wanted to refute it but the threads of thought slipped once more from her grasp and were lost. She whimpered and huddled closer to the wall. She had been afraid of him. But perhaps he would not find her here, in this stark and dreary place.
Fandom: Star Wars
Author: starkravinggood
Characters: Yoda, Bail Organa, Padme Amidala
Rating: Rated G
Word Count: about 800
Disclaimers: This is fanfiction and these characters were created by George Lucas.
Summary: How different would the story have been if Padme Amidala had survived?
Hidden
Yoda slowly paced the cold, almost bare room, his gait unsteady and his small form bent even more than usual. He leaned on his gimer stick, clutching it tightly. The events of the past few days weighed on his mind, dark and heavy and painful in their intensity. He fought against the instinctive urge to reach out with the Force, to reach out to his surroundings as he always had for many, many years. But he would not endanger the ship and its occupants. He would not endanger the man who had provided invaluable help to the last remnants of the Jedi Order.
The door opened silently and Bail Organa’s form filled the doorway. Yoda knew from the look on the Senator’s face that he had been unsuccessful in his quest.
“I can find no trace of her. I’ve had every inch of this ship searched.” He stood looking down at the aged Jedi Master, his face serious and tired, smudges ringing his dark eyes.
Yoda nodded thoughtfully. “Escaped she must have, though impossible it seems.”
Bail lowered himself onto a chair. “There were two small supply ships docked with us. She must have slipped onto one of them. It’s the only way. I’ve already had them searched at their destinations but there was no evidence she’d been on one of them.”
“No, no. Evidence she would not leave behind.”
“She…she could be ill. Hurting. The labor was very difficult.” Bail rubbed at his tired, bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t felt this tired in a long time. Not since Zigoola.
“A strong woman she is. Survive she will.”
“What of the children? She must think they are dead or she wouldn’t have left them.”
Yoda pondered the words for a moment before coming to a decision. “Think them dead, perhaps she does. If not, proceed with the plan we must anyway. All depends on it.”
“Any word of Obi-Wan?”
“No. And none there will be. This he knows. In secret he will stay. As will I.”
Bail nodded, sighed deeply and stood. “We’ll rendezvous with the other ship whenever you are ready. But are you sure you want to exile yourself? We…we need you.”
Yoda shook his head emphatically. “A liability to you I would be. Search for me Palpatine will.”
“But what about…what about Padme? I shall keep looking, of course.”
“Look you shall. But find her…I think not.”
“You know this? You’ve…seen it?”
Yoda lowered his head tiredly, the thin wisps of hair floated round his ears. “Shadowed the Force is. Hard to see things are. But know her I do and find her we will not. Hurt…very hurt she has been and a cure for her pain there is not.”
Bail licked his lips nervously, wanting to ask but oddly afraid to. “Do you think…she wouldn’t…go to him, would she?”
Yoda grasped the stick tightly. “No. Dead Skywalker is. To her as well.”
“Yes, Master Yoda.” Bail bowed quickly and left the room.
Yoda stood lost in thought, his hands twisting the old stick round and round until his skin tingled. “Yes. Dead Anakin Skywalker must stay, or suffer we all.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She shivered in the cold breeze that drifted briskly down the old walkway. The air was thinner here and seemed tinged with a strange mintiness that burned her nostrils and the back of her throat. She hurt. More than she ever had before. She had tried lying down and floating away, hoping never to return. But a shopkeeper had tripped over her and then had angrily grasped her by her arms and pulled her roughly to her feet. After several angry words she did not comprehend, he had flung her violently away. Her body had screamed in protest, and she had instinctively clasped her arms across her sore belly, in too much pain to protest his brutality. She had staggered away until she’d found the little alcove she now huddled in.
She thought perhaps she ought to remember something but her mind was like a stream of water that never seemed to stop, racing quickly from one odd thing to another with no comprehension at all. Her hand gently massaged her abdomen which felt odd, almost numb, and soft and squishy to the touch. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten and what it had been, but her stomach rumbled painfully now.
A face swam across her muddled mind and she struggled to focus on it. What had he said? The man who had been so angry with her. He had said something to her and she wanted to refute it but the threads of thought slipped once more from her grasp and were lost. She whimpered and huddled closer to the wall. She had been afraid of him. But perhaps he would not find her here, in this stark and dreary place.