"Hey, Anakin!" Pete set a Blue Stinger on the bar. "It's been a few weeks. How's the old lady doing?"

"Just fine, according to the docs, but she still hasn't popped." Anakin sat and took his drink. "She's all happy about the war and stuff." The death of Count Dooku had thrown the Separatist leadership into chaos. Both sides had almost completely stopped fighting and Anakin was missing the action.

"That was good work on Dooku, Anakin. I could never figure out what the war was about anyway." Pete shook his head. "Why would the Trade Federation want to bust up the biggest free trade zone in history? The Naboo invasion and everything that followed was a stupid move. No one trusts them and their core business is dead because of it. The Nemodians are in an economic vice that's squeezing credit out of them like water from a bar rag. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face."

"Why does anyone do anything and who really cares?" Anakin shrugged. "What's done is done. I just wish that I could have chopped Dooku's arms and legs and other parts off and taunted him more before he finally bled out. Kriffin' Obi Wan showed up, got all sentimental and wouldn't let me." Anakin still had a whole lot of hard feelings about losing his arm.

"It was all pretty slick though," Pete smiled. "Having Solly fix up that R2 unit for you really worked out."

Anakin guffawed. "Yeah, thanks for that idea, by the way. Dooku never even saw it coming. R2 just rolled up behind him and blasted him right in the ass. The expression on his face… It was so funny… I almost lost the fight to an ass-less man, I was laughing so hard."

"Well, here's to the hero of the hour." Pete raised a glass to him. "Your money's no good in here tonight, Anakin."

"Thanks, Pete. That's a good thing because I'm flat broke. R2 was really pissed about losing his logiprobe for a blaster mount and ratted me out to Padme. She decided to invest my whole stash. No more war means goodbye easy pickings." Gratefully, he took a drink.

Pete washed out a glass and started polishing. "You should cash in on your fame. Write a book or two. You know, start small, the whole 'I was a slave,' thing, then milk it for a while. You could really cash out too with a tell-all when they find out about Padme. Really stick it to the Jedi."

Anakin snorted. "My only real talents are killing and lying, Pete. I can barely write an after-action report. If it weren't for the clones helping me out I would be laughed right out of the Jedi. Mom taught me some and I learned a little more in the temple school, but I missed out on most of it by cheating my way through with the Force. Obi Wan was too caught up in all the Jedi poodoo to notice that I could barely read."

Pete frowned. That explained a lot about Anakin. "You don't like writing? So hire a guy."

Anakin tapped his chin, thoughtfully. "I wonder what Cody will want to do after the war." Cody had taught him how to write a coherent after action report.

Pete frowned thoughtfully. "That's a problem alright. All those clones hitting the skids at once will be big trouble, especially with the recession. Think of it, half turn pirate and the other half go into the cops. Who could tell if they switched places every week?"

Anakin shook his head. "Padme already thought of that. She's going to keep the army, but cut it back to only the clone trooper regiments and some of the better Special Forces units. Those clones that want out can quit with a pension, but I don't think that very many of them will."

Pete stood shocked to stillness. This was very bad. "Wait, what? Padme is in charge of the army now? What about good old Palpy?"

Anakin shrugged. "He quit the Senate last night. Said that he'd had enough, thank you all and so-long. It hasn't been announced yet, but he threw the nomination to Padme on the way out and she was confirmed by the standing quorum. She's Chancellor now." He hoped that it would keep her busy and out of his face all the time.

Pete groaned. "And once she's in, good luck in getting her out with the laws Palpantine passed. Is she planning to change things back, Anakin?

Anakin shook his head. "You know that I don't care about that political stuff, Pete. I think she might have said something about keeping things stable, but she talks constantly and I really don't pay much attention to it, just sort of nod now and then when she says my name."

"Kriff!" Pete poured himself a stiff one.

There was a thump as a wheezing old server droid stopped working and fell. Anakin looked toward the back booths and saw a black cloaked figure, face down on the table. "Hey, Sid! That you?"

The figure mumbled something, but didn't sit up.

"He's been back there since I opened." Pete was getting a little concerned. "Whatever is bothering him, he doesn't want to talk about it."

"Huh. Better go see what the matter is." Sid was a good pal. Plus he always paid for Anakin's drinks.

"What's the problem, Sid? All that crazy Sith stuff finally getting you down?" Anakin sat down in the other side of the booth.

"It doesn't matter anymore." The usually smooth and well modulated voice had been reduced to a pathetic mumble.

"Come again?"

"Sith. The Dark Side. Both sides. It's all just a waste of time. You thrash around for a while and then you die. Even if you don't really have to die, what's the point?"

"I used to feel like that all the time. Trust me; you just need to balance things out a bit and oh, getting laid is good too." Anakin swirled his drink, smirking to himself. He was still in a great mood over killing Dooku and escaping the hundreds of Republic Bureau of Intelligence agents that Chancellor Padme had assigned to watch him as her first official act. "Cheer up, man! I got Dooku and the whole kriffing war is probably over!"

Sid snorted with sudden laughter and sat up. "I heard. The droid? Was that really sporting, Anakin?"

Anakin shrugged. "I thought it was sort of poetic. Count Dookey taking a blaster bolt right through the dookey-hole. Of course Obi Wan had to go all soft and ruin the moment. I will be so glad to finally get free of that sanctimonious fracker. He's only about eleven years older than me and you'd think he was fifty."

"Oh? Are the Jedi actually contemplating knighting you?" Sid sounded incredulous. "They have to know about Padme by now. In fact, they all have to understand pretty thoroughly that you don't believe in one single thing that they say."

Anakin shrugged. "Probably not, but I'm going to have to quit them pretty soon if they don't knight me. Come on, I won the war with a droid! I'll probably quit them anyway, even if they do. With no war it'll mean hanging around with them all the time and I don't think I can do that anymore without chopping Mace Windu into little meaty squares."

Sid gave a belly laugh. "Now that's cheered me up. Just be sure to bring your R2 unit along, Anakin. Windu is good. Very good. I'm surprised that he hasn't fallen yet."

"Heh. Thanks to Obi Wan's big mouth they're onto the droid trick now. R2 couldn't even get into the same room with them." Anakin smirked at the memory of Dooku's betrayed eyes. "You're right though, Sid, with this tin arm of mine Mace would probably win. I'm just glad that Pete figured out how to cheat and I finally got the fracker that took my arm off."

Sid looked at him thoughtfully. "I might be able to help you with that, if you can keep it quiet."

"You mean killing Mace?"

"Well, yes, we can go and do that if you really want, but I meant your arm."

"What, you mean get a new one? I've thought about that. I'm sure that someone, somewhere makes one that looks more like a real arm but it took me a lot of work to get this thing into fighting trim. I'd hate to start over." Anakin took a drink.

Sid pulled out a crystal. "This is the Holocron of Darth Plageous the Wise, Anakin. He used to practice his Force meditation by cutting his own fingers off and re-growing them as an exercise. This can teach you how to regrow your arm and many other valuable skills."

"Are you kriffin' shitting me?" Anakin grabbed the crystal as quickly as a striking snake.

"Not at all. He taught me that way, cutting off bits of me here and there from early childhood. It was a little sad, as I ended up cutting off his head at ten years old to see if it could regrow a body. Sadly not, though the resulting Force ghost annoyed me for years." Sid took a drink. "He taught me a lot though. If you study hard you'll be able to change your face, your height, your age, anything you want, really. The Master was a good old stick. More of a Force scholar than a real Sith dark-sider though. I wonder what he would say to me now that I've lost my taste for it? I actually kind of miss him."

"Wow! This is great, Sid! I'll regrow my arm and maybe grow something a bit lower out for Padme too." Anakin slipped the holocron into his robe. "I need to find someplace where I can study this without the RBI or Obi Wan spying on me. The kriffin' Jedi would just lock it up or destroy it." Padme wanted him to be her secretary, or hand or some-such, mostly in the same office with her all the time. He couldn't study there with her constant nattering.

Sid was laughing so hard that he was having a problem sitting upright. He finally trailed off, wiping tears away. "The RBI! What a pity that woman isn't just a little stronger in the Force. What an apprentice she would have made! Our dear departed Chancellor Palpy certainly left the Republic in capable hands. Perhaps you should get started on the Master's lessons sooner rather than later, Anakin. Directed Force meditation will enable you to perceive serious threats to Padme and your family long before they become imminent." It would be interesting to see what became of this experiment.

"Really? I'll wipe them from the galaxy!" Anakin finished the drink. Any threat to his family would die so fast that they wouldn't ever know that they were dead.

"That's the spirit!" Sid signaled to Pete. "If the threat is Jedi serious, have Padme ask one of your clone friends about the special security orders."

"What'll it be, gents?" Pete smiled professionally, glad to see Sid back on his metaphorical feet. He had unbent a lot over the last month and turned into a really decent regular.

"The good stuff all around, Pete. Corellian Whiskey for the house until this is gone!" Sid pushed out a credit chit that made Pete's eyes bug out.

There was a general cheer and the tempo of the place began to pick up as more regulars came by and stayed to drink with Ani and Sid.

Now beginning to approach the mystical state of Truly Sloshed, Anakin felt a great love of everyone, except the Jedi and various frackers that he had intended to butcher since the age of four back on Tatooine. "Did I ever say thanks, Sid? You're more of a pal to me than any of those dopa-meekie Jedi in the temple ever were."

Sid, swaying to the music that someone had put on, raised his glass. "There is no need. Just take an apprentice and pass it all along some day."

"Is that what I am?" Anakin had long had his fill of Masters.

Sid shrugged. "Technically I guess, but not really. Our kind is mostly self taught anyway. I'm heading for an off planet bolthole of mine and don't intend on coming back. I'll give you a holoboard address where we can communicate if you have any questions that the holochron can't answer." He took a pad out of his robe. "Here, your telepresence will be called 'Vader.' Just message 'Sideous.'

Anakin teared up a little, put the pad in his inner pocket by the holocron and opened his mouth to thank Sid again. There was a crash and shouting and he turned to look at the group coming through the door. Anakin's mouth dropped even further open as Obi Wan Kenobi, dressed in a virulently flowered sabbac shirt and a gamblers hat staggered drunkenly through the door, his arms around two huge-breasted strippers whom he lewdly groped.

Anakin's stunned expression slowly turned into a huge grin. "This is the best day since I first nailed Padme."