Coruscant, Senatorial/Delegate Speeder Annex, (15 minutes later, 21.9 BBY)
Evening made Coruscant a place of long shadows. There was an abundance of artificial lighting, of course, but rather than really casting back the darkness, they simply created isolated islands of light.
Surrounding these illuminated areas were larger territories of half-lit twilight. Places where colors were muted, and the exact dimensions of objects were difficult to discern.
Neither was the situation helped by many of the walls and buildings in this portion of the world-city being gray, silver, or black. The monochrome surroundings naturally drawing the eye to those rare splashes of color which did exist in the gloom.
Like the cobalt blue armor worn by the trio of Senate Guards who seemed to be waiting for us. Watching while we drew even with the gateway separating the landing complex and speeder annex.
The visors of their respective helms giving the trio an anonymous uniformity broken only by the two corporal's blazons on the right pectoral of the lead figure's armor. The sight of which bothers me enough my eyes flicked immediately to the right.
Taking in at a glance the large guard booth sitting flush within the entryway, so all foot-traffic passing in either direction could be easily scrutinized by the pair of Senate Guards who were always on duty here.
In addition to observing those moving in either direction for signs of anything untoward, the guards kept watch on the many security monitors within.
Coordinating as necessary with the patrol which swept back and forth across the landing complex and speeder annex. A patrol I didn't remember seeing as we'd crossed the landing complex grounds.
The lights in the booth were on, so I can see the screens of the four security-monitors on the furthest arm of the C-shaped panel visible through the large rectangular panes of transparisteel were active, but there's no sign of the booth's occupants.
While the pair of privates presently awaiting us could conceivably be the guards who normally serve at this duty-station, the presence of the corporal apparently in command doesn't track.
There's a corporal assigned to the lieutenant who oversees the four-strong roving patrol, but I'm having a hard time conceiving of an irregularity important enough to justify said officer's detaching his second to take command of the pair from the guard booth, without said irregularity also justifying the summoning of additional reinforcements.
I can sense a distinct unease coming from Captain Typho. It tells me I'm not the only one who's noticed there's something out of the ordinary here. The Senate Guards don't deviate from their command structure without compelling reason, so the present situation isn't simply some easily ignored oddity.
Padme can't help noticing as Gregar moves from a couple steps behind her right flank to occupy a similar position on my left. When I drop back a couple steps until she's directly to my right, the slender, dark-haired woman murmurs almost silently out the side of her mouth "What's going on, Anakin? Those are Senate Guards, but the two of you are reacting as if we're among enemies."
Without looking at her, or allowing the relaxed smile I'm wearing to lapse, I murmur back "It might be nothing, but the guards have deviated from both their regular command hierarchy, and standard procedure.
No one's manning the guard booth, and most of the legitimate reasons for redeploying the personnel stationed there would also be compelling reasons for making a call to S.G.H for reinforcements.
It's possible we're overreacting, but then again, the assassin I am most worried about is someone who specializes in making people do things they would never otherwise do. In either eventuality, caution costs nothing, as my Master constantly reminded me."
I sense her concern increase, but the little fear the woman feels is crushed immediately. Behind the opacity of her mental shields, I can feel her mind beginning to race once more. Our shared reaction to potential danger waking her up, and spurring an increase in focus.
The thought makes my smile a touch more genuine, as we cross the remaining distance, and I greet the trio of guardsmen. A casual looking run of my fingers through the hair on the left side of my head serving as cover to thumb on the filament-cam I'm still wearing.
In this era of increased suspicion with regards to Jedi actions and motivations, I think it's only prudent to capture an objective accounting of the imminent encounter.
"Good evening, Corporal. I'm Anakin Skywalker, one of Senator Amidala's escorts tonight. Is there something we should be aware of going on?" I venture in a pleasant and courteous manner.
The man's emotions were a turbid mire of anger and resentment bordering on active hostility, as were those of the guardsman looking on over his right shoulder, so I'm trying to be as diplomatic as possible.
Ignoring me entirely, the corporal addresses himself to Padme in an uncompromisingly flat tone. "Senator Amidala, you need to come with us, now. My men and I will escort you to headquarters, where a contingent of more senior guardsmen will take over. We received a warning from the office of the S.B.I's Director.
The report indicates a Changeling bounty hunter is pursuing a death mark recently placed on you by an unknown party, and it emphasizes the bounty hunter isn't working alone."
Padme glances from the guardsman to me ever so briefly, and the instant our eyes meet, it's like a thick veil of black fog parts. In my mind's eye, I can see her beginning to fall. One neat, perfectly circular bullet-hole punched above the inner arch of her right eyebrow, then a second round making a ruin of her nose as it smashes into it's bridge.
The hook of my right arm snaps tight like a trap about her midsection as I reach her. A pair of sharp reports reaching my ears as I blur past. The gunshots are so close together, they seem like one drawn out sound. My momentum yanks Padme off her feet like she's fired an ascension gun at the nearby wall and engaged the reel.
I concentrate on strengthening my outstretched left arm, as my semi-controlled dash fetches us up against the wall at speeds which by rights should turn my arm into a jellied mass of splintered bones.
I can feel the jarring impact through my entire body, but my furious denial of the assassin's actions has given me a perfect clarity of focus I hadn't believed possible before this moment.
My eyes flick sideways for the briefest instant to assess the slender woman as I set her back on her feet, then I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Other than a few locks of missing hair, and a flimsi-thin line of red slowly oozing drops of red down her right temple, she's entirely unharmed.
For an instant, I'm as staggered by the near-miss and hitting the wall, as I am by the fact the faint awareness of her in the hindmost quarter of my mind has suddenly become a significantly more pronounced presence in my awareness.
A development which seems to have coincided with the woman presently pressed so tightly against me beginning to process what very nearly just happened.
There's no time to focus on anything but the next threat to her life, however. Keenly aware of the now seething rage in the two men already turning to face our new position.
Both men beginning to bring their blaster rifles to bear. I push Padme behind me as my lightsaber comes to hand a tick before either can do so. A part of me which feels simultaneously alien and frighteningly familiar actually aching for them to fire.
"It will be no one's fault but their own, when these traitors get a couple of blaster-bolts bounced back through the visors." A vicious voice whispers in my mind.
One which reminds me pointedly that these men were undeniably complicit in the attempt on Padme's life I'd just thwarted, as it emphasizes their obvious willingness to pick up where the sniper's failure had left off.
I know there's something wrong with this assessment, but the icy fury demanding I end the vermin who have betrayed everything they were supposed to stand for is making it difficult to think of anything except punishment and retribution for their enormous crime.
It doesn't help that I can hear the murderous intentions foremost in the minds of both men, as they dash out wide of the wall with their weapons raised.
The resolve to murder the woman in my keeping so complete, it's like the killing fury has become a firestorm of all-consuming flame within each man. Burning away everything which isn't the denied predator seeking the ecstatic release that comes with the moment of the kill.
Yet for all that a horrifyingly atavistic part of my mind is insisting these beasts should be made to beg for death's sweet release, I'm revolted to my core by the thought of becoming what I beheld in both of them.
The thought of a truly visceral vengeance for trying to snuff out Padme's pure bright flame is sweet enough to tempt me to an unforgivable abuse of my power as nothing else ever had, but even as my hands tighten until my knuckles are white around the hilt of the lightsaber held in Shien's initial ranged-guard, there's enough sanity remaining to whisper urgently of the price for the moments of black rapture I've envisioned.
"This is not who I am. This is not what I want, not truly"
I find myself gasping beneath my breath. Feeling as if I've just run a hundred kilometers, and it's only now that I find myself wondering why I couldn't feel how frigid with resentment, how thick with with disdain, how oily with festering rage, and full of unalloyed hatred the air around me seems until this very moment.
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