The healers came out later and informed Anakin the younglings most likely had a stomach virus.
A stomach virus. While it didn't seem to be a particularly deadly one, it was a nuisance to the kids that got it. And the least deadly viruses always seemed to be the most spreadable ones.
Hopefully this one wouldn't spread. The last thing Anakin needed was his six kids, one a baby, getting a stomach virus.
Armed with this wonderful knowledge, Anakin returned to his class. He would have liked to have the whole room disinfected before returning for anything, but Narthil had already let some of the kids get their projects. Nerves churning inside him, Anakin let the rest retrieve their parts and led them to an empty meditation room to finish while the classroom was cleaned.
After his Mechanical Basics class was his Advanced Mechanics class. The class had already half-built their complex droids, and Anakin was excited to work with them on finishing them. He hurried down the hallway.
A small green figure toddled down the hall as fast as it could go. Yoda, but much smaller. Anakin dodged the speeding figure that was moving much faster than it ought given the tiny legs. It held something in its arms, but Anakin couldn't quite catch what.
A friend of the twins, Ezra Bridger, pelted after the little green guy. "That is not a snack!" he called.
Anakin bit back a snort. Ezra had a constant rotating menagerie of animals that tended to escape in class at inopportune times. Several times, Anakin had found frogs, lizards, and loth-rats in his robes. He had no remorse seeing another youngling run off with one of his "pets".
The tiny green Yoda-esque youngling stopped and faced Ezra, then, holding him in a defiant stare, shoved the frog he was holding into his mouth.
"No!" Ezra dropped to his knees. "Not Doofus!"
The Yoda-youngling smiled innocently, then froze and vomited on the floor. Surprisingly, Doofus was still alive, and he sat on the floor stunned and covered in slime.
Ezra scooped him up and rubbed him on his robes. "Bad Grogu! Leave my pets alone!"
Grogu's ears drooped. He set one tiny, clawed hand to grip his stomach.
Anakin sighed. Yet another stomach virus victim. He picked up the tiny youngling and cradled him against his robes. "Go on to your class, Ezra. I'll take care of Grogu."
"Yes, sir, Master Skywalker, sir." Ezra saluted, oddly enough, then ran off, Doofus clutched tightly in his hands.
"You probably shouldn't eat Ezra's pets," Anakin told Grogu.
Grogu cooed, then groaned.
"It's all right, I'll take you to the Healers," Anakin said. It would delay his class, but it needed to be done. He turned and hurried back down the hall. This was not good. If Grogu had it too, that meant the stomach virus easily spread between species. Which meant any of the kids could get it. Which meant widespread sickness and vomiting. He had been foolish enough to wear light robes today, as Padmé had the baby, Menti, and he hadn't expected to need stain-proof clothing. "Don't throw up on me, little guy. I don't want to have to get the stains out."
Now without his newly-stained outer robe, Anakin stood in front of the Advanced Mechanics class. "Before we get started, I have to say that if any of you feel nauseous or like you're going to vomit at any time, you don't need my permission to leave, just bolt to the 'fresher as fast as you can. All right?"
"Yes, Master Skywalker," the class chorused.
This class was made up of mostly older initiates, so hopefully they'd be mature enough to recognize the signs before they made a mess.
Luke gave Anakin a smile that looked more like a grimace.
Please, don't be sick. "All right, then, let's get started."
Anakin had two students bolt out and then return to ask to go to the Halls of Healing. Of course he granted it. Unfortunately, he didn't have any trashcans or buckets to give them, but at least they wouldn't be puking in his classroom.
He bent over next to Luke. "Have you stabilized the power converters?"
Luke bit his lip. "Yeah, but when I did that, the flux aperture uncoupled." He pointed into his half-finished astromech. He heaved a defeated sigh. "This looks nothing like the insides of Artoo."
"Well, Artoo's insides are a lot different than most astromech's," Anakin said. "You remember last time we were doing maintenance on him, I told you that I'd made a lot of modifications. Your droid doesn't have to be exactly like Artoo."
Luke heaved another sigh. "I guess."
Anrus, an Ithorian, stuck his hand in the air. "Master Skywalker?"
Anakin straightened and strode over to Anrus. "Yes, Anrus, what is it?"
"Can you tell me how to put rocket boosters on my droid?" Anrus asked.
"Of course," Anakin said. Anrus's droid was half-astromech, half battle-droid, an interesting mix that rocket boosters would only make even more interesting. "Where do you want to put the rocket boosters?"
Anrus stood up and pointed at the rounded head. "Right up… up…" He sucked in a deep breath and spewed vomit all over the first few rows.
Anakin paled. He wasn't very squeamish, especially since becoming a father, but that was too much even for him.
The students squealed, and several vomited. Anakin pulled out his commlink and dialed maintenance. "Everyone in rows four and five, evacuate the room immediately. Do not stop to grab your projects. Do not step in any substances on the floor. Once outside, line up against the wall and wait for further instructions."
One of the initiates that was covered in vomit began to cry.
"Temple maintenance, how can I help you?" a robotic voice said.
"I just had a student projectile vomit over the first few rows in Classroom 27 Aurek on Level 36. Any assistance would be welcome. I'll be right with you, Hannah, just hang on," Anakin tacked on to the crying initiate.
"Uh…maintenance will be right with you." The comm clicked.
Anakin sighed. He pocketed his comm. Luke, picking his way around a puddle of vomit in the line of clean students evacuating, grimaced at Anakin. Anakin grimaced back.
"Anrus, if you can make it out of the classroom without stepping in anything, hurry to the Halls of Healing as fast as possible," Anakin said. Anrus was clean, and the last thing they needed was him vomiting again and making more of a mess.
"Yes, Master," Anrus choked out.
Anakin made his own way around the messes and headed to the 'fresher. He needed copious amounts of towels, water, and buckets for the poor filthy students. He restrained a groan. Days like this made him miss the Clone Wars. Blood, guts, and death were far more preferable to copious amounts of vomit.
Finally, everyone was cleaned up as best they could be. Anakin sent the others that had vomited to the Halls of Healing, though they didn't necessarily have the stomach bug. He'd almost vomited himself because of Anrus. The rest of the unlucky students he patted on the back and told them to go change and forget the rest of their classes. They deserved a break.
Anakin collapsed against the wall of the corridor and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He just wanted this day to be over.
"Dad? Are we going to continue class now?" Luke asked.
Oh yeah. He still had a third of a class left sitting against the wall. Anakin pushed himself up and glanced over his patiently waiting class sitting cross-legged and gazing eagerly at him.
"Can we go get our projects now?" Luke asked, eyes wide and bright.
Anakin shook his head. "That room's a biohazard. I don't know when you'll get your projects back. It might be a couple of weeks."
Mechanical wailing pierced Anakin's ears. Several droids careened down the hall, bumping against the wall near the classroom door and spinning out. One raised its hands and spread tape across the door.
"Do not enter this room. Unsavory biological substance spill must be eradicated prior to additional entry," the droid demanded.
"That's fine," Anakin said.
His comm beeped. He pulled it out and activated it. "This is Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, how can I help you?"
"Ah, yes, Master Skywalker, we need you to come pick up Shmi. She's vomited twice and she's got a bit of a fever," Shmi's creche master said.
Anakin's heart dropped. "I'll be right there." He turned his comm off. "All right, guys, class is dismissed. Go have some fun, relax or something. Try to stay away from and out of the Halls of Healing if possible. May the Force be with you."
"May the Force be with you," the children chorused, then they scattered.
Luke pressed up against Anakin's side and slipped his hand in his. "It's not been a great day, huh?"
"Definitely not, kiddo." Anakin squeezed Luke's hand and set off down the hall to fetch his daughter.
"We're almost there, Shmi," Anakin said. He glanced back at the four-year-old. Her red hair clung to her sweaty face as she bent over the space sickness bag they had given her. Apparently, most of their buckets had already been claimed.
"Hurry!" Shmi groaned.
Anakin pulled into their apartment building's hangar. As soon as the speeder came to a stop, he scooped up Shmi and bolted to the turbolift. Luke and Leia could handle the other kids for one time. He had to get Shmi to their 'fresher. "Luke, get the kids!"
"Yes, Daddy!" Luke said.
Anakin pounded the button for the elevator. He bounced on his heels.
Shmi pressed her flushed cheek against his shoulder. "Daddy, I don't feel good."
Anakin stroked her sweaty hair. "I know, sweetheart."
The elevator dinged open. Anakin stepped in. Leia and Ben followed on his heels. Luke tugged a whining Jinn in just as the doors started to close.
Anakin pounded the button for their floor. The elevator whizzed up. Shmi whined and pressed her face against his neck. He rubbed her back. "It'll be okay."
The elevator opened. Anakin hurried down the hall and opened the front door. He dashed to the 'fresher and set Shmi down in front of the toilet. He pulled her hair back. She vomited violently.
Padmé walked up to the doorway, a burp rag thrown over her shoulder. "Honey, what's wrong?"
Luke walked by. "Shmi's sick."
"So is a lot of people at the Temple," Leia added, following her brother into the living room.
"We had an Ithorian student vomit over three rows of seats," Luke said.
Anakin winced. He met Padmé's warm brown eyes. "There's an epidemic going around the Temple."
Padmé knelt down next to Shmi and stroked her hair. "How you feeling, honey?"
Shmi burst into tears. "Really bad, Mommy."
Padmé stroked her hair some more. "It's gonna be okay, sweetie, I promise." She pressed her hand to Anakin's forehead. "You look terrible."
Anakin leaned into her soft touch. "It's been a long day."
"Why don't you go lie down before dinner? The last thing we need is you getting sick too," Padmé said softly.
Anakin grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Anything for you, milady." He stood up and wound his way through the crowd of kids. He walked into the master bedroom and collapsed on the bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.
Anakin sipped a mug of hot chocolate, leaning against the kitchen counter. Padmé stood next to him with a mug of caf. She would be staying up all night with Shmi, most likely.
"I'm going to have to stay home for a couple days," Padmé whispered.
"Will that be all right, with the session almost over?" Anakin aside. The session was finally concluding after who knew how long. Bail would become galactic president. Padmé would—most likely—take his place as chancellor, then the session would end and Padmé would have about three months off.
"I can spare a few days," Padmé said. "Depending on how long she's sick though…I can't afford to be out an entire week."
"Well, in a couple days, she should be feeling a bit better and wanting her mommy a bit less, so I can stay home with her instead," Anakin said.
Padmé nodded. "Just as long as no one else gets sick." She put her mug down and wrapped Anakin in a hug. "Good night, sweetie. I love you."
Anakin hugged her back. "I love you too, angel."