Attack of the Clones (AU) - Chapter 6

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“What did you do?” Padmé shouted.

They were hanging on to the back of the speeder as it took a nosedive through the lines of air traffic. Anakin had his free arm around her and for once she didn’t mind.

“I disconnected the engines,’” Anakin replied, though it was almost impossible to hear him.

“You WHAT?” She looked at him incredulously as the ground started to come into view.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin said with a shrug, “this isn’t the first crash landing I've caused.”

Somehow Padmé did not find that very reassuring.

---

Close behind, Obi-Wan followed the speeder at the same break-neck pace, shaking his head as he watched their antics. He wondered which one was worse.

---

For some reason either due to Zam or aerodynamics, the speeder levelled out as it made its final descent into Coruscant’s entertainment district.

As the ground neared Padmé rolled off and landed on her feet. Anakin followed somewhat less gracefully, skidding to a stop just ahead of her in the middle of a crowd of startled pedestrians.

The startled pedestrians advanced on the speeder after it fell, exchanging questioning glances as the vehicle ignited. Zam somehow staggered out as the crowds gathered around it and tried to disappear down Vos Gesal Street.

But Anakin and Padmé were watching her and Zam broke into a sprint. Running into people, dodging droids and low vehicles, they chased her through the crowd and to the doors of a nightclub.

“Should we tell them to lock the doors and not let anyone out?” Anakin asked.

“No, that makes it worse,” Padmé replied. “And it’ll take time.”

“Anakin!”

They turned to see Obi-Wan landing the speeder behind them.

“She went into that club, Master,” Anakin said, pointing.

“Patience,” he cautioned as he approached them. “Use the Force. Think. She went in there to hide, not to run.” At this he caught Padmé’s eye. “And the next time you two plan to pull a stunt like that again, let me know in advance so I won’t be there.”

“Oh, come on, Master,” Anakin gently reproached as they walked through the door of the club. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Probably in several pieces outside Senator Nalanda’s bedroom window,” Padmé interjected.

Even Obi-Wan had to laugh at this as they surveyed the crowd. The assassin was nowhere to be found but that was to be expected.

“Well, where is he?” Obi-Wan asked casually.

“A she,” Padmé corrected. “And I think she’s a changeling.”

“Then be extra careful,” he replied, he made a motion that Padmé and Anakin should search either side of the room then he walked towards the bar.

“But where are you going?” Anakin asked.

“For a drink,” his Master replied, walking off.

Anakin blinked and glanced at Padmé. She shrugged and walked away, but it wasn't long before she found herself the target of unwanted attention. Unwanted male attention.

“Nice threads,” said a leery voice reeking of Janx Spirit, a mottled-green Twi'lek stepped towards her. “Shame it hides your curves. What’s your poison? I’m buying.”

Normally Padmé would resolve this sort of situation with a few choice words that veiled a threat, but there was not time for that.

“You don’t want to buy me a drink,” she said, putting the right amount of Force-suggestion into her voice.

“I don’t want to buy you a drink,” the Twi'lek repeated, his eyes wide and his voice neutral.

“You want to go home and rethink your life,” Padmé said, gesturing very slightly with her hand.

“I want to go home and rethink my life,” the Twi'lek said, staggering away from her.

---

If the barman found there was something rather unusual about Obi-Wan’s attire and choice of weapon, he didn’t choose to show it. Obi-Wan tossed back the blue liquid he ordered, deliberately keeping his back turned.

Qui-Gon had once said to him that sometimes all you needed to do what wait and what you were searching for would find you. Even though his former Master had been speaking in the realm of the rhetorical at the time, it did apply here.

He didn’t need his eyes to see Padmé and Anakin combing the room in different directions. He didn’t need to turn around to know that the assassin was edging towards him, blaster rifle out.

Which was why it was such a surprise to Zam when he spun suddenly around with his lightsaber out, slicing off the barrel of her weapon and her right arm in one motion.

At the disturbance, curious eyes turned their way. Hands made their way towards concealed weapons.

“Easy!” Anakin stretched out with the Force, putting strong emphasis on his words. “Jedi business, go back to your drinks.”

Shakily, Zam was helped to her feet and dragged her outside with Padmé trailing.

---

“Who hired you?” Anakin forced her against a wall, trying to probe her mind with his own. “Tell us!”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his Padawan still had much to learn. “Do you know who it was you were trying to kill?”

“The senator from Naboo,” she murmured.

“Why?” Obi-Wan pressed.

“It…was just a job,” she said.

“Who hired you?” Padmé asked. “You can tell us.”

Zam smiled which for some reason frustrated Anakin profusely.

“Tell us now!” he demanded.

Her eyes went wide. “It was a bounty hunter called—” But that was all she managed to say. There was a short hiss behind them as a small metal barb landed in her neck. She started to choke, her face contorting in pain as it resumed its neutral Clawdite features. Then, murmuring incomprehensibly she fell to the ground.

Behind them an armoured figure with a distinctive helmet ignited a jet pack, they could only watch him take off.

Padmé and Anakin looked at each other; this had all taken only a few seconds. Obi-Wan bent over the corpse, removing what had caused her death.

“Toxic dart.” Obi-Wan examined it in his hand; it was still wet with blood.

“It gets stranger,” Padmé murmured, staring at the empty space where the bounty hunter had been.