Chapter Five: Your Point?

Senator Amidala begins to slowly, slowly improve from her near brush with death. It's still unclear how much damage her body has sustained, though everyone counts it as a blessing that she is alive and awake. Meanwhile at the Jedi Temple, the halls are quiet while news of Siri Tachi's death spreads and they prepare for her funeral...

"You always have the most interesting stories Padmé."

"You do not?"

"You are currently sitting in a hospital recovering from an eradicated disease - how's that not an interesting story?"

The hologram of Padmé Amidala laughed, which was cut short by a hacking cough. She held a fist to her chest, head bent while she gasped for air. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Even through the hologram is was possible to hear the machines beeping rapidly in the hospital.

Satine swallowed, watching her friend struggle to breathe. It was incredibly sad, looking at the fiercely independent Senator rely on a breathing and feeding tubes and goddesses knew what else - she wasn't a medical expert.

She had gone to university for performing arts, for goodness sakes. She never was supposed to become the Duchess of Mandalore.

From somewhere in the hospital room, there were footsteps. Anakin Skywalker sat carefully on the bed, giving a small wave to the holo before easing his wife into his side, handing her a rag and grimacing while she coughed into it.

"Lovely to see you Anakin," Satine murmured when the coughing had subsided.

Padmé smiled a bit, dropping the rag onto her lap and leaning her head against her husband's shoulder. Her exhale of exhaustion was heard through the holo.

Anakin was frowning at the rag, then at the machines that were keeping his wife alive. He eventually shook himself, and glanced her way. "Satine - you look ravishing as always."

Satine raised her eyebrows, glancing down at her formal court robes - all flowing skirts and modest lines and opals sewn in. Not for the first time, she wondered how an apprentice of Obi-Wan Kenobi could be such a bad flirter. Nevertheless, she gave a smile. "I have to holo-into a Confederacy Senate hearing in an hour - I must look my best. Dignified."

"You're gonna try to reason with those animals?"

"Ani," Padmé murmured.

"How are you faring?" Mace Windu asked quietly while they walked through the quiet halls of the Temple. His concern evident on his face, a rare feat for him.

Adi rubbed at the band around her wrist - really, Siri Tachi's padawan braid. "How can one dare feel well when they lose the child they raised?"

"Mmm."

"Oh hush - you'd be a reck if you lost Depa - ah don't deny it." She smirked when he closed his mouth and gave a sigh.

"Maybe I would be - but unlike Kenobi and Vos I would not be drowning myself in drink and intercourse."

"Can you blame them?" Adi watched a pair of young padawans jostling a pile of course materials race down the hall, both of them throwing sheepish looks over their shoulders. She felt the smirk from her face falter. "To be young again."

"Garen should be on planet soon," Mace murmured, gesturing to a window for then to stand at. He kept his voice low. "He should able to calm those idiots down."

"You're so sympathetic."

"Adi."

"Those five were thick as thieves growing up - even Luminara and your Depa would be lured into their shenanigans from time to time."

Mace stared out the window, where the traffic of Coruscant was beginning to pick up - the morning commute was starting, after all. In the dim light he looked incredibly, incredibly old. Sad too, and very tired. Shoulders slumped, he murmured, "I never thought I would say those were the easy days."

Adi forced a laugh, putting a hand on her long time friend's arm. "Qui-Gon's probably laughing in his grave right now."

"Because we're wishing for the days were Kenobi would climb to the top of the Temple high and Vos would film?"

"Not the worse thing they ever did."

Mace leaned against the frame, tapping his fingers against his arm. "Bant and Fisto are escorting those affected by the Virus back to Coruscant by the end of the week. They'll be quarantined here until further notice."

"We lost another didn't we?"

"One of the younger clones - hadn't even gotten a name yet."

"Tizzy would make it a requirement they all had names if she could," Adi whispered, referring to the Togruta Jedi master.

"Heard from Skywalker?"

"No...have you?"

Mace shook his head. "He's basically off the grid - submitted his reports, commanding his men from Naboo - not answering any comms though. Senator Amidala, from what we've been told, is taking a leave of absence."

"You don't think she...still has the Virus -"

"God, I hope not. We cannot afford to lose her... she's one of the few people who can keep Palpatine in line."

"...what part of 'neutral' do you not understand Senator?!"

"A true Mandalorian would not shy away from fighting the Republic - especially when Jetti are involved!"

"You forget she has a soft spot for Jetti - only reason she's still alive!"

On the Separatist floor - broadcasted through remote channels all over the galaxy - the hologram of Duchess Satine Kryze slammed her hand down. The sound, or perhaps the violent action, silenced those whom were bickering. She glared around at everyone, a snarl on her face. "My system will continue to trade with all factions of this damned galaxy - war or no war!"

"Looks like she hasn't lost her fire," Quinlan murmured, leaning his arms against the couch.

"Like we want Mandalorian goods!" Someone shouted.

"The galactic economy is in shambles - you would not survive without our metals - Separatist or Republic."

"We'll -"

Obi-Wan sighed, pressing the holo on mute and leaning back in the armchair. He traced the figure of the Mandalorian Duchess for a moment with his eyes, then turned it off. Listening to the stations had been a good idea when he couldn't sleep the previous night...well, until he got memorized by the woman he had once thought of marrying and having a family with.

Fingers brushed the nape of his neck. Titling his head back, he raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"You look like shit."

"Well thank you," Obi-Wan muttered dryly. "I thought I looked rather dashing."

Quinlan gave a hard snort, pressing his brow against Obi-Wan's, eyes - though a little sad - were twinkling. "Well considering you've slept with half the galaxy and the enemy..."

Chuckling, Obi-Wan shoved his friend's face and stood. The living room of his apartment was still dark, the only light coming from the slow rising sun filtering between the curtains. "Ventress was a one time thing - I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"You slept with a Mandalorian for how many years?" Quinlan asked, then rolled his eyes when his friend - now rifling furiously through the cupboards. "Sure, don't answer me."

"Kriff you." Obi-Wan extracted what he was looking for - a bottle of whiskey and his container of Sapnir tea - and grinned. "Care for a drink, Quin?"

"It's not even noon Obes."

Obi-Wan turned around from setting the kettle. "Your point?"

Author's note: hello there ;)

It didn't take long for Satine to make an appearance, now did it? I couldn't help myself - you guys should know that by now.

Enjoy this chapter, and I'll see you guys soon

ii Digestive Reader ii.