The Rising Sun - Prologue

The Rising Sun

Dramatis Personae

Anakin Skywalker
A 19-yr.-old Jedi Padawan with the largest midi-chlorian count on record, the most gifted Force-sensitive in history as a result. He's a hotshot at the helm of anything that flies, and a mechanic who can fix anything, including his own mechno right arm. He is secretly, illegally married to Senator Amidala.

Padmé Amidala Skywalker
A 24-yr.-old Senator, representing her native planet Naboo as well as the Chromell Sector after serving 2 terms as the Queen of Naboo. She's a gifted speaker, and a passionate philanthropist. She is the secret wife of Anakin Skywalker.

Obi-Wan Kenobi
A 35-yr.-old Jedi Knight, mentor of Anakin Skywalker. He's a great pilot who hates to fly, and an excellent diplomat who prefers to stay out of others' troubles, as he has enough of his own with his unruly Padawan. Once as unruly himself as Anakin, he is now one of the most orthodox Jedi alive.

Ruwee Naberrie
A retired professor from Theed University, father of Senator Amidala. Anakin still had to ask Ruwee for permission to marry Padmé, permission that Ruwee readily granted, despite the secrecy of the arrangment.

Jobal Naberrie
Ruwee's wife, Padmé's mother. She's spent the past ten years of her life worrying over the safety of her younger daughter, and is grateful that Padmé now has someone to take care of her.

Sola Naberrie
Older sister of Padmé, married to Darred Janren, and mother of 2 boys and 2 girls. Both her boys are "hopefuls" in the Jedi Temple, and her elder daughter Ryoo is an adoption. Sola is excited about her "baby sister's" marriage, and she had even tried to play matchmaker before the wedding.

Dormé
Padmé's right-hand handmaiden and decoy. Dormé is very devoted to her Lady, and is dedicated to helping protect the Skywalker secret.


Siri Tachi
A 33-yr.-old Jedi Knight, and special friend of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Siri is a very unorthodox Jedi, and consequently a good friend of Anakin's, as well. She was trained by former Council member Adi Gallia.

Lúthien Skywalker
The firstborn child of Anakin and Padmé Skywalker. A little baby, probably with a vast potential.

Prologue

The Crash

“Hold on tight, Padmé!”

Padmé nodded wordlessly, gritted her teeth, and clutched at the armrests of her seat until her knuckles were white. She forced her eyes to stay open though reflex told her to squeeze them shut.

Sweat broke out on Anakin’s face. His hands clenched the steering yoke of the shuttle so tightly that the servos in his mechno arm protested. His grip on the Force was heightened by his fear, and he called upon the Force to hold the ship relatively steady as it veered down to the planet’s surface in crash collision.

The atmosphere buffeted them hard. Thank God that the inertial compensator, unlike most of the ship’s systems, hadn’t failed. If it had, he and Padmé would have been crushed by now.

Padmé. So recently his wife. He was her guardian – he had to protect her. To save her from any and every danger.

His grip on the Force slipped and the shuttle careened. He desperately tried to grab hold of it again, but it was too late. The mountains filled the viewport.

“Anakin!” Padmé cried. Her hand flew instinctively to her still-flat abdomen.

“Hold on!” he repeated.

As Padmé seized the armrests again, her eyes squeezed shut, not in fear now but in desperate prayer. Father in Heaven, keep us safe! Keep us safe! Keep us safe...

“We’re almost there!” Anakin gritted out.

The ground rushed up to meet them violently, and their crash-webbing could not hold them in. Both were hurled forward at the control consoles, and their world went black.

Pain was the first thing he was aware of. His body was full of pain. It seemed that every muscle and bone in his body ached. His mechno arm was strangely numb. Something warm and wet plastered his forehead, where a sharp pain throbbed.

He opened his eyes and groaned. The protective shell of his right arm was gone, shattered by the crash’s impact.

The next thing that he saw was that he was gracelessly spread out over the console. Then he tilted his head just enough to see Padmé – she was spread out over the console, too. Only, she was still unconscious.

“Padmé?” he tried. His voice was shaky. He pushed himself up, grimacing as he realized that not only did his bones ache, but also his left collarbone was fractured. Oh, this is good.

“Padmé.” Still no answer. She was out.

The cockpit was a mess – it looked literally as though a tornado had run through it. Damaged equipment lay between him and Padmé, who was only about four feet away. Slowly, carefully, he pulled himself onto and over the twisted pile, his collarbone protesting cruelly. He eased over to her side and…

Blast! If I lift her, my shoulder is going to go. He clenched his damaged right hand into a durasteel fist. Okay, okay, just use the Force.

He reached out for the Force and directed it towards his wife. Her body slowly rose off the console, and backward into his right arm. She sagged into him, her head lolling up to face him. Blood snaked out of the right corner of her open mouth. Her whole left cheek was one blackish-purple bruise. Anakin winced. This was probably nothing compared to the time that that nexu had ripped her back open in the Geonosian arena, but… Wounded was wounded

“Padmé,” he said again. He kissed her. “Padmé,” he said louder, “it’s time to wake up.”

Her body shuddered before her eyes fluttered open. “Ani,” she whispered in a shaky breath. She frowned and feebly reached up to his face. “Your forehead. It’s covered with blood.”

“Just a cut,” he assured her. Blood… I should have known it was blood.

“My chest… hurts. Ribs… I think a couple are broken.” She coughed, and cried out in pain. Oh yeah, they’re broken, all right. Sudden fear lanced through her heart. Oh no! The baby!

Anakin instantly sensed it. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

Padmé tried to damp down her fear. He’ll be okay, he’ll be okay, he’ll be okay… “It’s nothing. I’m just – worried.”

Anakin frowned, clearly not reassured, but he let it go as he looked up and around. “I’ve gotta get you outta here. This thing is gonna blow soon. I’ll get you out, then I’ll get out the emergency packs.”

“Make sure you get my travel case,” Padmé urged.

Travel case? “Padmé, the emergency packs are a little more important than your wardrobe.”

“Anakin!” Her voice was sharp – she’d never spoken to him like that before. He wasn’t even sure that he’d ever even heard her use that tone. Just as his temper was about to rise, he realized something. Her sense in the Force radiated fear. “Please,” she pleaded softly, “just trust me. Do as I say.”

Anakin nodded, confused inside. He supposed that he’d just never understand women, just like Gilraen Starrider had said. “Can you stand?”

“I think if you’re helping me…”

With the help of the Force on Anakin’s part and prayer on Padmé’s, the young couple managed to make it about a hundred meters from the shuttle. Padmé rested on a fallen tree while Anakin quickly retrieved her travel case and the emergency packs. He had to make two trips, and as he left the hatch the second time, he felt a surge of warning in the Force. He broke into a dead run, and made it about halfway to Padmé before the shuttle exploded. The force of the blast blew him down to the ground.

“Anakin!” Padmé’s scream was lost in the roar of the fire.

She felt a sudden reassurance in the Force. I’m okay. I’ll come when it’s safe for me to get up.

Padmé nodded to her husband’s telepathy, and then remembered that he couldn’t see the gesture. Be careful.

She felt a telepathic boyish grin, and had to smile in reply. Aren’t I always?

As long as Anakin was safe, Padmé had to get in the playful last word. No comment.

The whole galaxy could be exploding around them, just so long as Anakin was still okay. That was all that mattered. Well, that, and then the other…