Everything belongs to Lucasfilm - all disclaimers apply
Unbroken Vow of a Jedi: Chapter 7
The Light She Cast Pt.1
As Obi-Wan makes his way to attend the second Council meeting on the second night after the first wave of Order 66, Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker share an uncomfortable late-night conversation about the past; continuing to ignore their urge to speak about their past.
As Anakin considers his guilt, he also considers Padmé's blamelessness as he remembers the events of the time when the Delegation of 2000 confronted Palpatine a mere few days ago.
As Padmé considers Anakin's worry for his old Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, Padmé herself remembers a secret conversation she had months ago with an old friend of hers.
But the theme remains; what subtle effects has Padmé influenced on those closest to her?
Padmé's Senatorial Apartment on Coruscant
(At the end of Chapter 3, After Anakin and Obi-Wan's conversation)
"I know you're there, Padmé."
They were silent for many moments after Anakin called her out, each of them reflecting on too many things. Although only one of them was able to sense the other's thoughts, they could both feel the tension in the air. Through the darkness, they were unable to make direct eye contact.
There was too much that needed to be said between them, and they both knew it.
Suddenly uncomfortable with the energy they accidentally created, she wrapped herself tighter in her robe before officially entering the room to activate the veranda's lights. The tension eased tenfold in the absence of darkness. He loosely watched her over his shoulder as she lowered herself in the same place that she had sat in over lunch. He presumed that she wished for him to do the same, but he much preferred the distance he maintained from her as he was by the outer pillars.
Padmé didn't seem to care. "I did not mean to eavesdrop, I assure you. I only heard the very end of the conversation when you started to talk about Ahsoka."
He kept his sigh silent. "Am I bothering your nighttime rituals, or did you come here to ask me something? If it's the former then I can leave for the office to give you privacy."
"It is the latter. But, you are welcome to take residence in the apartment below us, if Threepio hasn't already told you so."
Anakin scratched at his eyebrow with his thumb as he thought of the wording, not wanting to make it sound like he just wanted to be close to her. "He did, I just thought it best to make sure that the night passes without incident."
"I am thankful for the adhesion you have for this mission, General Skywalker, but I must protest. You look thoroughly worn-out and it concerns me."
"As I have stated before, you need not worry about me, Senator," he said as he turned back to the scene beyond the window, desiring space from her after their conversation turned to an alarmingly technicalized word-duel. Again.
Really, he thought to himself with distaste, General Skywalker? Give me a break. Using such pretensions is embarrassing at this point.
"On that matter, we disagree," she sniffed.
"On many matters, we disagree," he clapped back as a rare feeling of boldness in her presence overtook him. It quickly made its retreat once he remembered that she deserved more respect.
"I know," she replied kindly.
He gave himself a mental slap to his nape before conceding to her. "Allow me to invite you to ask your question, Senator."
She nodded as she began to comply but then stopped herself short before she even opened her mouth, realizing then that her question might have come off as odd. In truth, she simply wanted to know about Ahsoka's well-being, but she had to take a moment to wonder briefly if he would question why she was quite so interested in his former Padawan. After all, he didn't really know the full extent of Padmé's regards to Ahsoka.
But, in true Amidala elocution, she was able to word herself around this. "I always keep tabs on those I owe my gratitude to. Tell me, has Ahsoka survived this ordeal? Has she been located – is anybody even able to help her return?"
The question pleased him; Ahsoka being the main character of the conversation forgave a lot of the… rousing vibes. The mention of his old Padawan's name alone was enough to cool him down. In any case, it allowed him to feel comfortable enough to at least turn his back on the cityscape to face Padmé. But his comfort vanished at the sight of a lovely dark gray satin robe with lace sleeves, and he immediately became self-conscious with the dusty and bloody designs in his apparel; not to mention his smell. He retreated further into his robe as he answered her.
"Ahsoka survived right after the Order was initiated, at the very least," he offered, apprehensive at the implication. "But I feel her, don't worry," he added, and Padmé could tell that it was more for his benefit than it was for hers. "And I asked Obi-Wan to see what he could figure out about her while he helped fortify the Temple."
"Did he find anything?"
"He was able to track the location of her ship and it turns out that it jumped out of hyperspace right after I warned her about the possibility of the Clones attacking her. I think she made her escape when that happened."
Her head tilted to the side. "You told her yourself? From what we could learn in the bunker, I was under the impression that the Council sent out a broadcast to all Jedi to return to the Temple."
Anakin nodded. "I was the one that made the broadcast, but I warned Ahsoka about it beforehand."
Something occurred to her then. "How did the Jedi come to learn about Order 66 in the first place?"
"From me, actually," he admitted.
She gave him a dubious look. "You? How?"
He thought for a moment. "Do you remember, not too long after the Temple bombing, when the Chancellor was attacked by an ARC trooper from the 501st?"
Padmé scowled as she drifted through a feeling of Déjà vu. She had a conversation about the same topics not too long ago and found the coincidence jarring. "Yes. And afterward, he called for an audience with you and your Captain. He was subsequently killed by Commander Fox. Apparently, the trooper was driven mad by a conspiracy theory?"
"That conspiracy theory turned out to be all that he had known about Order 66. It hadn't been much at all – really he just warned us that the Clones could've been forcibly compelled to kill the Jedi. And all along he claimed that the Chancellor was behind it. The entire ordeal had been brushed under the rug until we found Sidious," he said with a twisted frown. "Then his 'theory' didn't look so implausible anymore. After we took care of Palpatine, I remembered the trooper and warned Master Windu about it immediately and he told me to make the broadcast… the Temple had to be protected if it was true, and every Jedi had to be warned."
"And yet," Padmé said as her expression became increasingly confused, "you believe that the Council fears you? You saved them – surely they trust you, Anakin. I don't think that your friendship with Palpatine would be enough to warrant fearing you of all things," she offered as if the notion sounded entirely implausible to her.
His lips compressed into a forced smile. "If they trusted me then I would be a part of Council meetings. But I'm not. I'm also not good enough to be Master, but I think that that's just a childish dream that I'm going to have to pursue during more peaceful times," he said introspectively.
When he looked back into her eyes, he could see that Padmé looked disappointed in whatever he had said. "Is it because you were the Jedi that Sidious tried to indoctrinate?" She asked tentatively.
Anakin blanched and shuddered at being exposed so easily. He tried to inspect anything he might've said in the past 24 hours that would've given him away, and at the same time, hoped that he didn't give away the news of Palpatine's death at that.
More so the news that he killed him.
"It only makes sense, Anakin, and we need not talk about it at all," she supplied.
He merely fisted the sleeves of his cloak in answer, embarrassed to have been caught playing dumb to one as sapient as Padmé. After all, his sentiments and loyalties had been set in stone and made obvious to the both of them when she and her fellow Loyalist Committee presented the Delegation of Two Thousand to Palpatine.
The Delegation of Two Thousand's Confrontation with Chancellor Palpatine
A Few Days Earlier at Chancellor Palpatine's Office
[AU Version of a Scene in ROTS]
"Ah, here they come," Palpatine said pleasantly as a warning flashed across his interface. Anakin had been doing his best to remain from looking upon the Chancellor's screen to reserve his privacy, but he couldn't have missed the prompt even if he had tried.
On some level, he did try. He didn't want to believe that a few too many Senators didn't have anything better to do with their time than to call for their pound of flesh in indignant uproar at Palpatine's heralding efforts to end the war as it should be ended; accordingly, and in line with the sacrifices that had been made. Anakin knew that it was a frivolous pipe-dream to hope that a bunch of corrupted bureaucrats could surrender the possibility of guaranteed profit for the foreseeable future just for the notion of peace; something that they could have pursued by not starting the war in the first place. They had created the droid armies and attacked first. They had followed the political philosophies of a fallen Jedi. They had made a civil war into a business model for profit. They had tried to kill a Senator of the Republic and two Jedi peacekeepers of the Republic as a clamant invitation of war.
To negotiate with them would have led to nothing more than wasted resources and spilled blood that good soldiers would have to write the check for.
"And right on schedule," The Chancellor sighed heavily, exhausted, with several shades of purple underlining the eyes that were so crinkled by age. Anakin felt sympathy for his friend and took a step closer to adopt a guarded and powerful stance at his right side, suddenly feeling protective for the frail old man that he knew was hidden behind the layers of regal enrobes. "Just like I told you - although I am happy I didn't waste your time should they not have put in an appearance."
"You shouldn't worry about that, Chancellor," Anakin reminded him confidently. "I owe you this much, at least."
"After you've saved my life aboard the Invisible Hand, I'd think not, dear boy."
"It would have been time well wasted, either way, I'm sure. If you feel it necessary to have me… search them over for duplicity, then I am at your disposal. We cannot leave any stone unturned; whether they are innocent or not, we shall soon discover. Too much has been wasted in this war, and even the smallest details are becoming critical. The end may yet be near."
"After your disposal of Count Dooku, I am inclined to agree," Palpatine amended with a gesture of his hand. Anakin didn't know how to answer that, so he clamped his jaw shut instead. "Now we must have faith that Master Kenobi will not falter in dispatching the head General of the Separatist army. Though I must say, General Grievous' legend as the 'Jedi Killer' seems to grow by the month. It still worries me that they sent him to Utapau to face that monster alone, of all things."
Anakin's jaw clamped harder in agreement. He knew that his place was at Obi-Wan's side as he tracked down Grievous, not here in a political tug-of-war with the mistrustful Jedi Council and Chancellor; though he couldn't really blame Palpatine being on the defensive after the Council asked Anakin to spy on the Supreme Elected Leader of the Republic. Their actions of late made Palpatine's speculations concerning the Jedi and opposing Senators seem not so implausible to Anakin. They had been able to persuade him to spy on one of his dearest friends, after all. It wasn't an unlikely ploy for them to persuade a heard of power-grappling Senators to make their protests as a way to decrease Palpatine's legitimacy. It angered Anakin to think that such a treasonous move was even legal, much less humored by Palpatine. Or for that matter, socially acceptable during a galactic war. A heat radiated from his body as he realized that the trials faced throughout the war were only a footnote to the Senators that cared too much about their own grasp of power.
The very conception made him want to put the fear of the dark side itself into their very souls; he had been knighted as an acolyte of the Force, a peacekeeper for the people, and as a warrior of the Republic, and by the Force, he would do exactly as he was mandated.
The Senators started to file into the Chancellor's chamber one by one, and Anakin was disappointed to recognize the ones that entered so far. Each of them followed the other like little sheep, and Anakin couldn't help but wonder if this insurrection was their idea to begin with.
Nee Alavar led the group with Malé-Dee at the left shoulder, with Garm Bel Iblis and Fang Zar at their flanks. Anakin was able to easily dismiss them as anything other than the pliable little tools that they were as soon as they laid eyes on him. Fang Zar was a brilliant mind that wielded soft-spoken words, but Anakin knew that intelligence only translated to action if the odds were in their favor, which they were not. The Corellian Senator Garm Bel Iblis, while sported sharper words but softer intelligence, had an impressive sphere of influence within the Senate; but it was not in the realm of shadowing Palpatine's influence, so this meant nothing to the short-term agenda. The tall red-head that stood behind them caught Anakin's eye longer than the rest did; a task made easy with such a prideful air as hers, and he recognized the Senator as Terr Taneel.
They were all morbidly timid, and rightfully so, none of them even able to look at Anakin any longer than a few seconds. He could feel their anxiety expand slightly, but his expression remained stony and pitiless.
But it wasn't until they started to fan out to the seating area when Anakin finally caught sight of the flanking Senator at the back of the pack. The eyes that looked into his own betrayed no submission, no dread, no pride, and no disparity from the character of the woman who owned them.
That towering woman.
Padmé.
Anakin's stalwart conduct faltered under her distinct gaze as it always did, and for some reason that he didn't want to decipher, he felt the beginnings of contrition nip at his cheeks and forehead. In the moment it took for her to spot him, consider him, and show surprise at his presence, he had already found a point of interest on the floor at his feet. Her eyes remained on his form as if he betrayed her somehow, and he could feel her disappointment in him as it backhanded him across the face.
He abruptly did not want to be here. His righteous wrath turned flaccid faster than a ruptured coolant bladder.
Every other member present remained oblivious to the youngest Senator giving close scrutiny to the retreating Jedi.
Palpatine made a show of standing for them as they took their seats. A repressed look of aggravation settled behind his welcoming grin as he nodded to each Senator before reclaiming his seat.
"I'd recognize such a purposeful walk from a mile away," he said with an emphasis on a particular word. "Which begs the question; how may I serve some of my finest Senators?"
Padmé dropped her glance from Anakin immediately as she turned to Palpatine, the obvious leader of the opposition.
"Thank you for the audience, Chancellor," She began professionally, as suave and lovely as ever. Everything about her mere surface reeled Anakin's eyes in. The beauty of her face was heightened by the frosty sienna light from Coruscant's sunset, and the emblem of the Republic that acted as the crown holding her hair together shimmered smoothly as her head moved in a captivating display of solemnity. Her Senatorial Regalia elevated her fairness to a nearly celestial degree. She was like nothing else.
And Anakin could do nothing but keep his eyes lowered before her.
"Yes, well, I apologize for not having the luxury to attend to matters such as this all of the time. But I have come to understand that this audience has been inaugurated due to a certain… petition."
"You would be correct with that understanding, your Excellency," Padmé said. "It is a petition that has been forged out of our fears as the Senatorial Body in a deflection of the near-boundless powers you have been bestowed with - all out of the expense of arresting powers from the elected representatives of the diverse planets and systems loyal to the Republic."
At her admission, Anakin found the nerve to look at her momentarily. He heightened his attunement to her in order to probe her mind with the utmost care, shyly anxious at what he would find. Just as the last time he brushed her mind, he was welcomed to an open field that had the aftertaste of categorical nonsense. Her wonderful mind, unlike her demeanor, was abstract, undefined, limitless. It went down a labyrinth of avenues with a hurried pace, each avenue as intriguing as the one before.
Many things occupied her thoughts. But none of them were brackish, malignant, acquisitive, or unpleasant to peer upon. However, some were heavily critical; full of possibilities and questions concerning Palpatine's intent. There was paranoia she felt at the thought of relaying the Senate's power onto the shoulders of one man, and Anakin could sense a memory behind it that showed her shaking her head at the Naboo peoples' efforts to change the Constitution to allow her to remain as Queen. Then there was another part of her that was consciously assessing Palpatine's every facial expression and body language.
Anakin could feel that Padmé desperately wanted to trust in Palpatine, but felt that it was her duty to question his power when so much was at stake. She was genuine in her plea and was truly doing what she thought was the right thing to do. A resounding feeling of respect for her welled within Anakin as a result.
"In times of peace, I would concur with this stance without hesitation," Palpatine allowed. "But one must adopt more utilitarian philosophies when the Republic is held in a state of peril as these times have allowed."
"These utilitarian philosophies can, and have been, carried out by the Governing Body for many millenniums before the Clone Wars," Padmé pointed out.
"They have indeed. But you cannot deny to my face, my dear Senator Amidala, the uncontested existence of the rampant corruption we face every day. Although, of course, there has always been corruption, it cannot hope to hold a candle to the dissolution we face today. In times long past, it has been noted that evolutional eras of great advances have led to the maturing of the Galactic Market. And through this, societies are led down the black hole that is late-stage capitalism." He paused to give his words and gestures more meaning as he clasped his fingers together. "We find ourselves in this black hole now. And we are sinking in it.
From something that is wrought from prosperity, it all comes at the cost of birthing economical leeches. You and I have once personally been the target of such a corpulent leech if you'll recall the Blockade of Naboo."
"I couldn't forget it if I wanted to, Chancellor," she reminded him.
"Neither could I. They are predators, and they are not limited to the galactic conglomerates that shamelessly lined the foundations of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. They are here, with us at all times, making decisions paramount to the war that only leads us to ruin. Among another thing that you could hardly forget, I'm sure… you must imagine that I am referring to the most recent example of this."
Her defined eyebrow arched in recognition. "Senator Rush Clovis, I presume?"
"The very same. His agenda was never in favor of the Republic, was it? That is the issue at hand and one that is the very reason for the powers given to the Chancellor's office. It all comes down to priority, my good lady. As you said so yourself, each planet and system are diverse, and as such, their vision for what the galaxy needs to be is diverse. The very existence of the Separatist movement is a testament to this! And when greed and institutions that do not serve democracy become the central aim of society, that is where the collective vision of the galaxy diverges beyond the point of consensus. Rationality is thrown away. Deliberation for the collective good is thrown away. Direction is disregarded. And in response to this, it is only natural that a political body would centralize itself in pursuit of a goal that simply cannot be put up for debate – the end of a terrorizing war."
"We did not call for your audience on this day to decentralize the momentum of the Republic," Padmé said swiftly. "But only to assure that it doesn't remain centralized beyond its use - or to ensure that the momentum is not harmful to the individual."
Palpatine chuckled mildly. "I assure you that the powers of the Senate will endure."
"The individual, as in planets and systems, not individual as in Senators," she pointed out. "The unnecessary pressure placed upon Onderon comes to mind as testifying for the validity of this. And that is not mentioning the editions to the Constitution made that paved the path for you to appoint Governors in order to place military control on Loyalist systems."
"An appointment that will soon be adopted under the powers of the Senate," he countered. "But the approach of this power exchange will come to a halt if I cannot be trusted with the seat I was elected into - with the powers I was given. You must realize by now that this war must be won before this power transfer can occur."
"The end of the war, also, is a point of contention, Chancellor," Fang Zar added, finally choosing to invite himself into the conversation carried entirely by Palpatine and Padmé. "For this petition also wishes to make a compelling argument for why peace talks should be opened with the Separatists. The death of their political philosopher, Count Dooku, would bring about a chain reaction of decentralized power, just as you have said. The time to open diplomatic venues is the present."
"And to that end, I must remind you that, until the destruction of General Grievous comes to pass, there will be no decentralization of power for the Separatists. On the contrary; their momentum will become more vicious, more indiscriminate. Had you ever met the General in person, Senator Zar, then this would not have even been brought up."
"May I take it, then," Padmé began, "That these negotiations will occur after the death of General Grievous?"
Palpatine nodded. "On our part, at the very least. Though I cannot say that the Separatists will follow the same course of action. My power, unfortunately, does not extend that far," he said matter-of-factly.
"If only that were the case, Chancellor," Garm Bel Iblis added uselessly.
"Senators," Palpatine continued with the clearest note of gravity, "you must come to terms with the fact that I have been elected because the Senate chose to endow me with its faith in my character, morals, and policies. I have sworn to do what must be done. I have sworn to do what is right. All I ask is that you present to me the same faith that was bestowed."
Senator Taneel shifted in her seat for the Chancellor's attention. "Can it be said, then, that-"
"-That I will do the right thing? Yes, it can," Palpatine cut in sharply, and Anakin could feel that his patience was running thin.
Padmé's eyes recaptured Anakin's. "And what of the Jedi's stance on this?"
The gaggle of Senators exchanged awed-looking glances before all eyes turned on him.
He knew that the question lacked its proper meaning: "What is your stance on this?"
Anakin accepted the challenge, but he couldn't bring himself to look too harshly at her. "The Jedi are doing everything necessary to ensure that General Grievous is removed from power. And as for your other point of conjectures, I need not remind those present that the Jedi are peacekeepers and Generals and that the proper platform for discussing our stances remains largely removed from the political arena," he said, boundlessly impressed by the elegant spiel that he forcibly word-vomited.
Senator Amidala seemed unmoved.
"And with that, may I rest assured in the success of this debate? I have no doubt that I have given enough to please this Delegation," Palpatine said coldly, "And I do hope that word of this understanding will be brought to the attention of the rest of the Two Thousand."
"Naturally," Senator Taneel answered.
Anakin was given no further appraisals from Padmé as she left Palpatine's office with the rest of the Senators, her departure leaving Anakin feeling hollow.
"That," Palpatine breathed heavily, "was highly irregular."
Anakin looked down at him, confused. "How so?"
Palpatine raised his eyebrow at Anakin. "Tell me, did you learn anything from this?"
Anakin gave a breathless sigh, unable to fully put it into words. "I learned that many Senators see it as their duty to question you. I also sensed that they desire to trust you, but find that difficult due to the power you wield."
"Hm," the Chancellor mused quietly. "And at the same time, when I look into their eyes, I can't help but feel that they aren't telling me the full scope of things."
"What do you mean?"
Palpatine looked unpleasantly surprised. "I find it hard to believe that you didn't pick up on this, Anakin," he said disapprovingly. Anakin straightened in response, startled at being called out of nowhere. "Treason often comes from those that believe that they are doing the right thing, you know. And in that pursuit, they will do underhanded things to undermine the leadership they are trying to take down."
Anakin swiftly moved in defense of Padmé. "But surely, if they intended to undermine you, they wouldn't have come to you directly-"
"No, Anakin! You must understand! This Petition-" he sounded out with a slammed fist against the document panel that held the names of the two thousand Senators that signed it, "is a declarative threat. You must see by now that this body is divided against the very power that seeks to amend its corruption!"
"Senator Amidala only acts in fear of you becoming a tyrant, Chancellor," Anakin amended desperately. "I believe that should you do as you've said that their protests will be pacified."
"It is never that simple, Anakin. If you'll remember the accusations of the Council, you'd understand this.
"Listen to me very carefully; the Council has sent you to oversee my actions in response to them believing that a mystical 'Sith Lord' is traversing amongst the midst of the Senate itself. And, while I cannot say that I am a connoisseur of Jedi legends, I can say that their tyranny against this 'Sith Lord' title is immense. Should a single iota of so-called 'evidence' come against this body, then the league of Senators on this petition will be the only remaining Senators that will not be held under fire by the Council. Don't you see? They seek to regain their power, even if it's at the expense of perpetuating corruption, or of continuing this blasted war! And they will use this 'Sith Lord' persona to act as the scapegoat for this conspiracy! Their powers were given unto me as a way to centralize the war effort, and, I hate to be a broken record, but those who lose power will seek to seize it at all costs! This is a lesson I have taught you since you were a boy, Anakin. You cannot let your personal feelings for Senator Amidala get in the way at this critical moment, my boy. I need you to have the right sense of judgment on this."
Anakin felt as if he had been captured, drawn and quartered, held at gunpoint, and exposed bare to the entire slew of enemies he had ever faced or will face. "N-no, it's just that I don't sense any artifice from Pa-Senator Amidala," he choked out.
The Chancellor sighed heavily, the disappointment seeping out from his aurora cutting lashes into Anakin's back. "I will not fault you for your rose-colored view on this, Anakin. You are still young, and inexperienced in the field of politics, after all. That is why, for the sake of making sure that you remain from double-crossing the very oath of loyalty you swore to the Republic, you must heed my teachings."
Anakin felt a shaky heat ripple throughout his body as he refocused himself on Padmé's retreating signature, infinitely worried for her wellbeing.
He didn't know what to think anymore. He didn't know up from down. He didn't know those who were on his side and those who weren't. He didn't know where his morality stood in all of this. He didn't know where the Code stood in all of this. And, most importantly, he didn't know where the Force stood in this. There was an infinite carpet that muted the vibrations of the Force when he sought out answers; the silenced peal of darkness that encroached upon the whole of Coruscant, it seemed.
And in the face of that, Anakin Skywalker didn't know.
But he did know, that no matter what happened, he would look out for Padmé for her sake.
Back to the Present
The aftermath of animosity that Anakin knew she would unleash upon him had caused him to balk at the entrance of her apartment after he had been assigned to protect her. But as soon as he rounded up the courage, he had been rewarded with a tender welcome, an appealing call of 'Annie,' and an affectionate smile. Her grace humbled him now just as it did then, and just as it did when he stood at Palpatine's side.
Padmé had never been one to hold grudges to her heart.
But, as it was, Anakin was unable, at the moment, to fully digest the lies, the manipulations, and the coveting of Palpatine. To do so would have recognized that Palpatine was never Anakin's friend, nor was Palpatine a man that ever cared for Anakin, and the very thought was not a possibility that a man as loyal and sentimental as Anakin could come to terms to. The revelation would have told him that he was nothing more than a midi-chlorian count, nothing more than an impressive formulation of meat and potential that could be the sword held to the throats of men who fought for democracy.
Padmé, ever delicate in the art of conversation, mercifully chose to change the subject back to his Padawan. "Do you want to find Ahsoka?"
His troubled wince immediately retreated to pave way to the softest and most hopeful smile he could cast, once again grateful for the grace that his company so frequently bestowed upon him.
"Is it that obvious?"
"No, not at all," she laughed. "I just know you well. You've never liked staying in one place for too long, especially when someone you care about is in trouble."
"I hope I'm not that predictable."
"Well, you throw in a couple of stunts here and there," she allowed, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
His mood suddenly changed before her eyes as he looked at her imploringly. "Padmé, I-" he began, unsure of himself. She looked somewhat hopeful for whatever reason as he stuttered. "I wanted to apologize."
She looked crestfallen. "For what this time?"
"The Delegation of Two Thousand… the petition. I wasn't very, uh, cordial."
Her eyes softened upon him. "I'm sure I can find it within myself to forgive you."
His enjoyable expression was wiped clean within milliseconds, completely at the mercy of the Senator's sarcasm. "What- what can I do to-"
"Anakin!" she admonished. "It was a jest, of course, I bear no ill will. Then again," she added thoughtfully, her eyebrow raising critically at him, "I was slightly perturbed that he had you there to intimidate us. That was distasteful of him — of the both of you."
His eyes fell in shame before he shyly asked, "Did I at least do a good job?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Good enough. The rest of my delegation didn't want to come before him again because of it. I'm sorry to report that I was much less impressed," she sniffed.
He smiled coyly. "No, you wouldn't be."
Padmé's face fell and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm just disappointed that you had the audacity to read our minds. Just because you have the ability to do something, that doesn't give you the right to do it."
Anakin's eyes hardened, but he knew he deserved to be put in his place. "How did you…"
"I felt you," she said. "I've never felt another Jedi do it, so I just assumed that they don't."
This puzzled him. "No, I'm sure they have. You are a politician, after all. But… you shouldn't be able to feel me."
She huffed delicately. "You do it all of the time."
He gave her a disapproving look and crossed his arms back at her defensively. "No, I don't mean to. There's a difference between telepathy and Force empathy. I don't always look for your emotions, but I feel them all the time, even without meaning to; and that's less invasive than telepathy."
"Oh. You feel everyone's emotions?"
He grimaced. "Not as easily as yours."
"Why? Am I that open?" she asked, looking disturbed at the possibility.
"Not to everyone," he admitted.
Her face turned into a floral pink that intrigued him as he studied her closely. "Do- you don't know everything I'm feeling, do you? Or thinking, for that matter."
"No." He shook his head, amused with her. "As I said, I have to actively try to use telepathy. Your emotions just happen to be very easy for me to read, and I do it without meaning to." Then his expression spread into a mischievous grin that crinkled his face boyishly. "Why? You got something to hide from me?"
"Why am I so easy to read?" she protested as if Anakin could do something to fix the issue.
"Just are," he muttered, embarrassed. The fact that she was more open to him than Obi-Wan's mind is, or Ahsoka's, or another Force-user, had been a worrying thought that kept him up at night for years now, terrified that he was going to feel forever anchored to a woman that didn't love him back. There had been times in his meditations where he had been able to sense her emotions without meaning to over the span of light-years.
But he wasn't going to tell her that.
Not that he would do anything about it even if she still did love him; she made her choice, and he now knew his duty was more important than his personal feelings — if the GAR's reliance on him was indication enough. After all, he almost single-handedly won the Battle of Coruscant, not to mention that he saved the lives of thousands of Jedi. He was needed, and he told himself that constantly.
But still, he always wondered if she still loved him. He could remember the time on Naboo, just after the First Battle of Geonosis when she had told him – when he had felt it…
The pain of the memory sobered him instantly.
"Is it that you can easily read those that are close to you?" she asked.
Anakin's eyebrow twitched, and he wondered briefly if she considered herself to be a part of such a group of people. The petulant teenager within him wanted to correct her on the fact while the earnest little boy within him heartily agreed. The mere implication of the honor he held at such a title as being one of her loved ones made him feel like he grew two meters.
Then again, he didn't think she had that many close friends.
And maybe the sentiment had been born out of pity for the little slave-boy Annie.
He cleared his throat.
"Yes, but especially fellow Force-users; that way we can meet each other halfway. We can even have conversations over a distance using telepathy."
"Really?" she asked, looking impressed. "Do you have conversations like these with Obi-Wan all of the time?"
He shook his head and forced himself not to laugh for her benefit. He enjoyed her curiosity too much to accidentally embarrass her. "Not at all. Comlinks are much easier to use, so we reserve it for when we have no other way to communicate. I did this most recently with Ahsoka when she was imprisoned in the military base – when I wasn't allowed to see her."
"What did you tell her?"
His eyes vaguely unfocused.
"Ahsoka-! Ahsoka, I'm here to help you, please… I believe in you, I'll get you out of here, I promise."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. She never heard it, anyways. She was probably too distraught by that time to open her mind to me, and she hadn't even known that I was there. That actually marked the beginning of her distancing herself from me," he said, feeling like an unnecessary footnote. "I just wanted her to know that I was still on her side."
Padmé bit her lip then as she wondered if it was within her right to tell him the truth about Ahsoka. She had promised her silence to the fallen Padawan after all, and especially with regards to her estranged Master. Padmé knew that those Ahsoka could trust outside of the Order were few and far between, and she did not want to cross a line that would mean losing the trust that Ahsoka had shown in her all those months ago.
Two Months Ago; a Time After the Clone Wars Season 6, Episode 10 "The Lost One"
After Fives' Death
The Senate Building's Grand Convocation Chamber
Senator Amidala and Senator Organa shared the fifth and final existentially concerned look of the hour as the Chancellor sounded out the conclusions to the evening's Senate gathering. It was not so much the Chancellor's words that concerned them – although they certainly were concerning – as much as it was the Senate's reaction to them.
Cheers. All thunderous, of course, and all stemming from the enthusiastic Senators who didn't know that Palpatine's words of late had a funny way of turning into non-essential confetti as the toppings of his supreme masterpiece of gaslighting.
Palpatine's voice, as well, was assuring beyond reason. "With this appointment of a designated Governor to the Onderon System, we shall be able to monitor the passage of the citizen's fight against the Separatist cause in a way that will leave no room to doubt their loyalties and standing with the Republic. Furthermore, we will be able to dictate, in the least intrusive way possible, if Onderon will require further Republic aid. We must not allow a planet of the Republic to fall at the mercy of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and we must not allow the voices of a treasonous few to leave Onderon's cause under Republic scrutiny. We shall allow the wheels of their government to turn, as is the duty of our great and noble democracy!"
The crowd paid their dues in a bluster of cheers and claps while a few scattered Senate pods remained stony in their silence.
"They've always loved such flattering regards," Padmé said softly, making sure that only the Naboo delegation and the Alderaan Senator remained privy to such words. "Even if such regards are more barren than ever."
"Especially now," Bail added, his voice whispering haunted meanings. "Now, with the Republic faltering as it is, these promises… these fallacies that raise its actions past the point of cross-examination."
Padmé shook her head in agreement. "They do not seem to realize that the Republic is not greater than the sum of its parts."
"Meesa be agreein' with yousa on that, Senator," Jar Jar offered with a bowed head. The intent hardly glanced either Senator's attention.
Many speechless moments on Padmé and Bail's part passed as they listened to the Supreme Chancellor, both of them unable and unwilling to admit to the other that they felt a twisting in their guts at the sight of the Chancellor's podium. The Chancellor, they knew, did not care for such an outlook as theirs, and carried on with the conclusory speech. The gathering soon ended for a brief repose, but Senator Amidala knew that no consensus had been found; the entire gathering had consisted of Palpatine's showy excuses for the appointment of a Governor for Onderon, and any opposition that was raised was effectively smothered by an unrelated riposte and an overwhelming show of support from other Senators.
There was a pattern that was gaining momentum when it came to Palpatine's policies, and many minds that thought alike to Padmé did not like this one bit.
"The championing of Palpatine by some of our esteemed colleagues," she started to say in disgust, "left me in awe."
Bail lightly touched her elbow in acknowledgment as their pod re-established itself to its magnetic berth to allow them passage through the halls of the Senate building. "That's one way of putting it," he allowed carefully.
Padmé looked around them cautiously. "We should not have to be discussing this with an air of confidentiality, Bail," she said, disappointed at the state they have allowed themselves to come to.
"I'm afraid, my good Senator, that it is slowly becoming necessary. He used the word 'treason' far too much for my liking."
"And far too much than was neccessa-" she began to say before their conversation was intruded upon by an uninvited guest. R2-D2, who had been staking out unseen behind a pillar, suddenly rushed up to the Senators in a wake of beeps and whirrs. His approach came to its ordained stop just short of Padmé's feet.
"Artoo?" came her bemused reply.
A series of tonal astromech speak tumbled from the excited little droid as Bail watched Padmé listen intently. She had been around the droid for the majority of her reign as Queen, and as her serving as Naboo's Senator, so she had little difficulty with understanding the meaning of Artoo's arrival.
"This is General Skywalker's astromech droid, is it not?" he asked after Artoo said his peace. "What news does he bring?"
Padmé looked up at him with wide eyes before she restrained the surprise she felt at the droid's news. "He has come to tell me that someone wishes to meet me in private; a friend of mine, I mean," she added hastily in response to Bail's hard look of unease at the prospect.
"And this is a friend that you trust?"
She nodded confidentially.
He spared a glance towards Artoo, seemingly taking note of the immediacy with which the droid conducted itself. "And will you need me to cover for you in the next session?"
Padmé frowned at the thought of playing hooky but nodded reluctantly. "Unfortunately, yes. I've… drifted out of touch with this friend, so to speak, and I do not wish to keep them waiting. I owe them that much."
Bail nodded with understanding. "I assumed as much. And I doubt that you will miss anything if the next gathering is as productive as this one was."
A hollow look crossed Padmé's face before she gave Bail her thanks and proper good-bye. With her dealings in the Senate now in order, she turned her full attention to Artoo.
"And are you sure that the person who sent you this transmission is Ahsoka? The frequency it came on is secure to outsiders, correct?"
Artoo gave an affirming chipper as he sped off with Padmé in hot pursuit. They eventually ended up at the entrance of her office, and they entered for the promise of privacy. In his obvious eagerness, Artoo immediately pulled up the transmission itself. The beams of his holo-transmitter shaped themselves into a visage of a young Togruta whose face was shaded by the fabric of a heavy cloak that was not too dissimilar from the style of formal Jedi robes.
It was Ahsoka, that much was clear, and Padmé was glad to see it.
"Senator Amidala," Ahsoka began with slight hesitation, her eyes directed downwards with humility. "I have made contact with Artoo in the hopes that I can establish a brief dialogue with you. As of now… you remain to be one of the few people of whom I can ask out for."
Padmé clasped her hands together as Ahsoka continued with her obviously rehearsed plea, taking careful note of the fact that – while she may have been a professed warrior who could hold her own on the battlefield – Ahsoka was also a teenager who had been raised in the midst of a war, and as a result, probably didn't internally understand the turnings of society beyond the battlefield. It made perfect sense that Ahsoka would seek the company of someone who lived in a world that wasn't too different from the one she left.
"I've sent Artoo a set of coordinates along with this message; I hope to meet you there after the sun sets - any time or day this week. I'll be on the lookout for you."
The transmission ended as suddenly as it began, and Artoo gave the affirming chip-in.
Padmé gave the little droid a nod of acknowledgment. "You've got the coordinates? Good, let's not keep her waiting."
An hour later
Padmé had to grip at the hood of her robe as the air drafted from below. The light grew fainter and colder with each meter they descended. The air became stale despite their movement.
She raised her eyebrow as Captain Typho gave another suppressed sigh, but managed to keep to his course with the speeder without commenting upon it. He didn't like the sound of the meeting any more than anyone else did, and, if Padmé had not known who she was specifically meeting up with, she wouldn't as well. But Captain Typho, as dutiful as ever, had made his protests to her meeting an 'old friend' as loud but respectful as possible. Unlike Captain Panaka, Gregar Typho was able to view his misgivings without accidentally demeaning Padmé herself.
And Padmé knew well that any trip to the lower levels wasn't a laughing matter.
Which, when she considered the problem in general, was the problem.
Out of the 5,127 levels that layered Coruscant's infrastructure and social hierarchy, she, of course, was privileged enough to live at the very top; a fact that she always tried to remain grateful for. As one descended down the planet's main terminals, the waste, crime, darkness, poverty, and even population increased by tenfold while the air quality, healthcare quality, and way of life took a nosedive. It was a class issue that stood as the literal heart of the Republic – the very core of it. It stood as a testament to the Republic's way of shrugging off atrocities, inequalities, and blatant manifestations of corruption and vice. And, as much as Padmé hated it, an external war was not the time for her to present her draft to aid the people of the lower levels; a manifestation of Padmé's own design made from her growing fondness for her home away from home. It was nothing more than a simple call of reform in infrastructure, air quality, and general quality of living, and each task would be handled by the very population that would live there as an effort to decrease unemployment as well. A "House-cleaning Bill," as Sabé had called it. But the time for such a bill wasn't the present, and logically, she knew it. Its golden hour would come after the end of the war when reformation would be able to take root… but that time hadn't come yet…
But as the speeder descended, and as Padmé's eyes glanced past an uncountable number of derelict structures holding the lives of citizens who lived in dilapidated worlds all of their own, her lip protruded in angst.
She wondered if Ahsoka had resorted to living in such a state of poverty, and the thought disturbed her.
Captain Typho seemed to pick up on her discomfort and nodded knowingly. "Have you reconsidered what we discussed earlier?"
The 'discussion' being his articulate list-off of as to why she shouldn't have the meeting in the first place while she seemingly ignored him. She didn't, and he knew she didn't if the Royal blaster in her holster wasn't evidence enough. But then, she always had her blaster outside of her political stage.
She raised a playful eyebrow. "Not at all."
He nodded, suddenly gaining another year on his life. "Of course not, my Lady."
"Of course not," she echoed quietly. Artoo's dome turned to look up at her, accompanying her as he knew she would. It hadn't been much of a task at all to reincorporate the astromech back into her Senatorial defense plan, so he had been able to board the speeder without so much as a second glance from the good Captain.
"Thanks for coming along, old friend," she said as she patted the droid's head affectionately before laughing. "I wouldn't dare assume that Threepio could tag along. I don't believe he's suited for such an outing as this."
Artoo gave a dedicated round of chirps in heated agreement, and Padmé didn't breach the subject of Threepio again; they had gotten into a little spat before they had departed from her apartment.
Her lower lip protruded further as she began to totter on another subject. "Are you sure… no one will be missing you this evening?" she asked, the sensitivity of the topic completely lost on Artoo.
He gave a couple of bleats, and Padmé could pick up on the words 'mission,' 'Oba Diah,' 'respite,' 'Master Kenobi,' and, most concerning of all to Padmé, 'Anakin.'
The name being reported through a series of numerical beats didn't have the same effect on her as it would have if it were spoken in Basic, but it still did its number. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and wrists.
"And how is he? Both him and Master Kenobi?" she couldn't help but ask – the latter part being the hasty addition to the question.
"Tired. Mission was unsuccessful."
"That is a shame. I'm… sure it wasn't taken very well by either of them."
"Anakin doesn't speak as much after a failed mission," the droid answered.
Padmé accepted this information despite feeling like an intrusive stalker on her part. Here she was, with his droid, going to meet his old Padawan learner, and asking about his affairs. She pictured herself as a shameless fan of the status he carries around Coruscant and the rest of the Core worlds; 'The Hero With no Fear,' even if she found the title distasteful. She knew somewhat about the weight he carried from the title of 'The chosen one,' given to him by the Jedi. She knew it bothered him, as he had spoken to her about it briefly while he had still been a Padawan. Briefly, as is in he had lost interest in the conversation after only a few sentences were exchanged.
To put such an expectation that he must always be fearless, or indestructible, or heroic, even though he was barely in his twenties… Padmé knew that it made for a standard that even he had to eventually buckle against. A public persona such as his would lead him to believe that society saw him only as what he could give them, and it upset her on a personal level.
But she deigned to not speak of it further as Artoo linked up with the speeder's main controls at the Captain's permission.
It wasn't until they reached level 1333 when Artoo eased the speeder to a landing deck. Padmé stood as he found a suitable space for it (as the deck was cluttered with junk that was far less than what she thought could pass as shuttles).
"Stay here, please, Captain Typho," Padmé reminded him as he began to shift uneasily. She didn't want to cause Ahsoka any distress by bringing an uninvited guest into the equation.
"Senator, I find it within my call of duty to remind you that-"
"Consider me reminded, Captain, and fret not. I have Artoo with me, and my partner is fully capable of protecting me while I'm with them," she said before adding lightly, "And besides, should I become some quaint establishes' doormat, that would mean that you no longer have to deal with my… how did you put it?"
"Heedless recklessness," he said without spirit.
"That," she added as she turned away from him and began to flank Artoo.
Despite her bravado, she was able to acknowledge to herself that she was nervous to be within the belly of the beast. Not even the Coruscant Security Force would be able to help her should she find need of it, and with Artoo as her companion, she knew that should something go wrong, it would be made known to Anakin before anyone else, and Padmé didn't like the idea of that at all. She didn't trust Artoo to not snitch if things didn't go according to plan.
So, she huddled her plain tan cloak further around herself, kept her head down, and used her arms to alter the shape of her body slightly as she continued through the enormous cave that was the cityscape of level 1333.
This did not deter a certain roof-runner from realizing the Senator's identity after recognizing that blue and white astromech. From her perch far above the boulevard that the Senator and droid traveled, she crouched to affirm their identities before she began to make her move. The roof-runner followed the Senator with a passage as quick and quiet as a gust of wind against a window pane, continuing to remain completely unnoticed by the two she stalked.
But the roof-runner wasn't the only one that didn't miss the pair.
Before Padmé had even realized that the lump of trash a meter ahead of them was sentient, it had gone out of its way to latch itself onto Artoo as he passed, a whirl of panicked chirps protesting out in surprise.
The being, who was a very old and raunchy-looking Dug, inspected Artoo's surface and form as if he was a piece of merchandise. As Padmé started to give her own protest, Artoo had already unsheathed his electroshock probe and dealt out a quick set of fiery jolts that left the Dug shouting out a robust groan indicating trouble was up and calling for dues.
The roof-runner smiled to herself slightly. Only an old friend from her past could manage to walk into trouble this effortlessly. Although the Senator had nothing on her old Master's head-on collision with the fray, or on Master Kenobi's tendency to negotiate with the trouble, Padmé Amidala still had an aptitude enough for it to be morbidly entertaining; if she hadn't been a friend.
The old Dug started to charge a bit at the Senator after Artoo hid behind her, but Padmé gave a show of her defiance by standing her ground and looking down at the Dug in a nearly demeaning manner.
"Don't touch my droid," she said evenly. The Dug didn't seem to hear her as he gave her a line of nasty-sounding curses.
The roof-runner did hear her, just as she was beginning to make her way down, but paused at the Senator's demand.
Her droid? This puzzled her mildly.
But she quickly dismissed the thought as soon as the Dug started to try and dart around the Senator to make another grab at Artoo. When that didn't work, the Dug actually threw himself on the ground and started to bellow out, "My droid has been stolen from me-!"
Padmé gave an annoyed sigh but remained unamused at the sight. "You don't exactly fit the bill as being this droid's owner," she pointed out. "No one would clean their droid before cleaning themselves."
The Dug continued to throw a fit but looked offended for a moment and looked down at the filth that was his second skin before looking back at the dented but clean surface of the astromech.
"Go back to sleep and let us go on our way," Padmé implored, ignoring the Dug's glare. She wanted to shut down this little scene entirely before she left the premise, not wanting to have any loose ends to worry about – especially when that loose end was a dramatic Dug with a chip on his shoulder.
The Dug continued to ignore her. But, seconds later, his movements began to slow, and his face went somewhat blank.
Beyond the Senator's ears, the words "Go back to sleep and let them go on their way," was spoken without a sound; an immovable weight founded each of them despite never being heard by anyone, and it wasn't a suggestion, but a command that was non-negotiable.
The Dug's body started to slack as he obeyed the words. "I will go back to sleep and let them go on their way," he mumbled as he curled himself back within the trash pile, silent at last.
Padmé knew what was up immediately but stared at the Dug in surprise nonetheless.
Artoo gave a questioning chirp and rotated his dome 180 degrees to look around, very familiar with what just happened and very familiar with the kinds of people that are able to make it happen.
The roof-runner jumped to the ground, the sound of boots hitting tarmac the only clue for Padmé to decipher. The sound came from within the shadow of a building, but the Senator knew very well who it was.
"Thank you for helping me out there," Padmé said as the smile began to form itself once more on her face.
The figure stepped out into the light and returned the smile. "No, thank you," the young voice replied, "for actually coming. I didn't expect that you would come so soon, and I appreciate it more than you know."
"Of course I'd come, Ahsoka," Padmé admonished her after she paced to the Togruta to place her hands on her shoulders. "I'm always here to help."
Ahsoka didn't know quite what to say to such a statement, but she did know that she was very grateful for it.
Padmé's face morphed into her common politician's mask as she considered the severity of Ahsoka's expression. "Ahsoka, why have you called me here?"
Ahsoka looked up into Padmé's eyes. "I knew I could trust you not to tell anyone about this meeting," she began, and Padmé knew immediately who Ahsoka was specifically referring to.
Padmé nodded. "Him, especially, I'm sure?" she asked tentatively.
Ahsoka, suddenly looking guilty, nodded. "As far as he knows, I'm not even on Coruscant, and I'd like to keep it that way."
Padmé was confused with the implication but thought it would be best to not pry. She gave Ahsoka an inviting gesture to continue to speak.
"Senator Amidala," Ahsoka began once more, a determined look casting her face as she asked, "What can you tell me about the clone trooper from the 501st who recently died after he turned mad?"
Padmé's eyes widened as she wondered how the fallen Padawan could have possibly come to discovered such sensitive news.
"His name was Fives; I knew him. Please, tell me all that you know."
Warning, Ramble below:
I realize that I have been relying on flashbacks by a large degree, and I'm sorry, but this AU will make sense by writing about the events that only happened and/or changed everything in the AU. However, it IS a conscious choice: you can think of this first arc (the arc where we discover why Mace is afraid of Anakin, how Anakin killed Palpatine, and why Padme and Anakin never got together, and the events surrounding Shmi's death) as the arc of flashbacks, and it will be something that decreases as the story progresses. I want every climax to be deserved and properly led up to, and flashbacks serve that purpose (and other purposes) very well. I rely on them because I want total control on when things are revealed. The first chapter especially was a mess, but I never meant to publish it when it was first written so it remains to be the worst chapter in my opinion. I'll fix it when I hit writers block or something, but please bear with me; I am an amateur writer at the best of times, and this fanfiction is an exercise to reach higher heights - Chapter 1 is a joke compared to this Chapter, and this entire fanfiction is a joke compared to Matthew Stover's ROTS. I hope to improve as time carries on, but I'm an artist before I'm a writer (check out the cover I painted of Anakin with oil- or my deviation page of some cover art I designed using the painting at laurgray !). But really, I do want to improve, and that's why I'm putting a lot of effort into the plot following the first arc's reveal.
And I think I seriously convinced myself of Palpatine's point as I wrote his counter like have I accidentally radicalized myself? :=) Allow me to spit on capitalism as is my birthright, and may god bless 'Murica. And on that note, forgive my intense obsession with Star Wars politics; holy HELL can you parallel it with American politics, which has always been what had made the Western-Space Oprah of "Star Wars" so incredibly relevant, compelling and valid in the first place; I promise not to dump my political views in this fic; that is NOT what is happening. I just want to discuss shit like poverty, social class issues, slavery in different forms, corruption, etc, WITHIN the Star Wars universe. No Left/Right bullshit.
And political issues (while will be the background/driving plot issue with characters such as Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka like what we saw in chapter 5-6) will NOT be shoved down your throats, but… Padmé will be a character that will actually acknowledge the political significance/context of each issue, but only because it's relevant to how she views the world. She is, after all, a politician that just happens to be a bad-booty goddess. Seriously. Out of a world filled with self-proclaimed "Knights of Justice," Padmé remains to be one of the most blameless character (along with Shmi and 99). The Jedi better check themselves.
Notes for the future:
Ahsoka's story will be followed, and it will be important (Maul will be there to compliment her character)
Obi-Wan will also occasionally have his own parts (and, in compliment to his character, we will follow an aforementioned OC)
There will be a warning posted when a chapter doesn't have any romance because Romance is the main genre and is important to most readers (but those chapters will still matter since we will be following other characters' stories who don't have a romantic counterpart)
There will be explicitly erotic scenes taking place far down the line, but these scenes will exist outside of the main work to keep that T rating because, well, erotic literature really doesn't have a place in Star Wars, but it did happen in the background (These scenes will be published under a separate work for viewing with an Explicit rating, but it will retain the same name and be easy to locate should you want to read them)
There will be several huge arcs that go over important philosophies/character arcs (and that span over many chapters), and plot developments, all of which will act as thresholds for the romance
I'm estimating that this fic will take me a few years to finish (I am a full-time college student, so this will take time)
Darth Vader: the rating will have to be bumped up to Mature when we get there, and I want to really pick apart his unique psychology: I will research the subject well to remain faithful to canon, and it will be full-throttle with writing him… but we'll have to wait a bit; we need to build to get to that point.