A/N. Sorry about all the updating delays, especially considering the cliffie at the end of the last! It wasn't my intent to leave you hanging, but Christmas was strange this year and it completely threw off my rhythm.
Anyways, Happy New Years! May 2014 be glorious and amazing and not sucky :D
Posted at 11:11!
"The moral of Snow White is never eat apples."
― Lemony Snicket
Chapter 17 Brewing Storms
"He's not allergic to anything."
It was downright uncanny the way he didn't even look up when he spoke. Sabe stopped in Anakin's bedroom doorway, gazing across the bed towards the tense young man sitting on the far side. She'd known he'd still be up, hovering over Anakin, even though the doctor had left hours ago.
"There was no way to test every allergen in the galaxy. It's a big galaxy."
He looked up then, a hint of dry humor arching his eyebrows for a moment before it faded. Then he spoke, "It's a big galaxy, but there wasn't anything special in anything we ate tonight. It was a state dinner."
That was true—since no one wanted to run the risk of setting off an allergic reaction with important guests, the food at state dinners were usually carefully selected so that it agreed with everyone present.
"Besides, we've eaten similar food since we arrived," Obi-Wan continued. He scrubbed a hand through his spiky hair before it drifted down and played with the end of his braid-thing.
Sabe stepped fully into the room and walked over to the bed. "Whatever it was, some of the best doctors in the sector are looking into it as we speak."
And Sabe would know—she'd spent the last six hours helping the staff contact said doctors and working with Captain Panaka to organize the security investigation, all of which had been complicated by the need to keep the whole incident as discrete as possible.
It was just plain stupid, after all, to nose about the fact that someone had almost died while eating at the same table as the Queen of Naboo and the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.
Anakin was almost lost in the huge bed, skin washed out under his tan, though thankfully breathing deeply (unlike earlier when he wasn't breathing at all). The memory gave her the chills. It had certainly unnerved the Jedi; she'd never seen him so intense and controlled. Sabe smoothed out the bedspread, tugging it up higher before dragging her fingers along the threads and pulling her hand to her hip.
"They still don't know what it was?" Obi-Wan asked.
Sabe shook her head. "Not yet. But they caught it in plenty of time—they said he'll be awake by morning. They also said his blood work's clean—there shouldn't be any lasting effects."
Obi-Wan knew that; she could tell by the way he sighed, the way he shifted against the weight of the same old assurances, but there was nothing else she could say; they still didn't know what had caused the problem.
"I am sorry I couldn't bring better news," Sabe apologized. "I just stopped by to see if you need anything."
"No, I am alright. Thank you, though." She hadn't expected any other response. Obi-Wan was not an easy man to get to know, but she had talked with him often enough over the past few days to realize how little he asked for.
"Of course," she replied, giving an almost smile and ignoring the implied dismissal. Sabe sat on the edge of the bed, already planning, mentally scheduling the handmaidens into shifts to keep an eye on Anakin throughout the day to give Obi-Wan a break. She checked Anakin's temperature with her wrist the way her governess had when she was little. She thought Anakin felt cooler, but she couldn't really tell; she'd never been able to pick up the knack. "Maybe when Anakin gets better, Rabe's brothers can visit? They're a good age for him and we can't imagine he wants to spend all his time with us."
Obi-Wan gave a wan, though genuine, smile. "He hasn't had a chance to play with anyone his age since leaving Tatooine."
"I'll talk to Rabe in the morning then, she can get it all set up."
"Thank you." He met her eyes seriously, conveying his full sincerity.
Sabe felt inordinately pleased, like the people of Naboo had passed some kind of test.
"I've seen him happier here than he's been since he was with his mother."
"We'll do everything we can to keep him that way," she promised.
It brought a small, but genuine smile to Obi-Wan's features. "Thank you."
Keeping Anakin in bed had been far easier than he'd expected. With the boy's restless nature, Obi-Wan had been prepared for escape attempts and petulance, no matter how sickly the boy woke up feeling. Preparation fell far short of reality, and instead of being worn out chasing him down, Obi-Wan had watched amazed as Anakin spent the day basking in the undivided attention of every visitor he received.
Needless to say, after Anakin received an evening checkup and was officially declared in good health, Obi-Wan had left the boy to his well wishers and had a guilt-free, Anakin-free dinner in the hall. No cooing handmaidens or guards, no boardgames and no mechanical parts to be found. It was a pleasant and quiet and relaxing meal after twenty four hours of Anakin and stress.
Obi-Wan didn't stay long (he didn't know anyone in the hall that night and there was no sense in eating by himself) and he didn't take his usual walk through the garden (there was a storm rolling in after all), opting instead to return straight back to the suite.
There, he found Anakin deeply asleep, probably out of the night if his Force presence was anything to go by. Pleased, Obi-Wan left Anakin to his rest, escaping back to the living room to meditate on last night's happenings.
He had been at it for a good hour when he heard a knock on the door. Obi-Wan reached out through the Force as he stood, expecting to sense one of the handmaidens swinging by to check up on Anakin. He frowned, sensing a droid. It was a palace messenger.
"Padawan Kenobi, the Queen Amidala asks that you see her in her private study. I am to show you where it is."
Obi-Wan frowned. "Did she have a message?"
"Padawan Kenobi, the Queen Amidala—"
Obi-Wan interrupted, "Yes, yes, I get it." With the Force, he checked that Anakin was still comfortably asleep. Satisfied, he continued, "Lead the way," waving down the hall to reinforce his directive.
The droid led the way down the hall and up a flight of stairs. It wasn't long before they reached a discrete doorway. The Force rippled with the bad news that awaited him on the other side. The droid opened it and gestured Obi-Wan inside.
The study was a small, pleasant room, tastefully though practically decorated. The Queen was seated behind a large wooden desk, but she stood when Obi-Wan entered the room.
"The doctor's report on Anakin's reaction just came in."
Obi-Wan's stomach sank. No greeting, no small talk. Something is very wrong. "What is it?"
Padme pursed her lips and held out a file, leaning over the desk. The Force sparked with trepidation. She sat back down when he took it, while he sat himself in a chair she indicated on his side of the desk.
The Jedi skimmed through the datapad, stomach dropping out. He looked up with a frown of his own, meeting her worried eyes. "He's not allergic to any of the ingredients from last night? Not even the shellfish?"
Obi-Wan did not like what that implied.
"It seems not," Padme shrugged. "His food could have come in contact with something something else in the kitchen…."
"It is possible," Obi-Wan agreed. He doubted it.
"There's no way to test everything in the kitchen—with the refugees and the visiting Gungans, the kitchens are stocked with any number of things he could be allergic to. It will take days to test him against all of them."
Obi-Wan nodded, physically accepting the information and while mentally brooding over it, a finger looped in his padawan braid.
"He has recovered quickly." Which would point to an allergy. That didn't match up with his initial assessment, but was still a route that had to be investigated.
After all, why would anyone poison Anakin when they could poison the Queen or Chancellor instead? What would they have to gain by it? It could've been a ploy to undermine the Naboo leadership, but if that were the case, then surely word of the incident would have been leaked to the public. Right? Had it been a mistake? Had they just missed the bigger target?
But if someone had the skills to lace such a dinner, they had the skills to make sure a poison reached the right person.
What if it had reached the right person?
There was a moment of silence. Amidala ran her finger down a list of questions, stopping when she reached one halfway down the page. She pursed her lips and looked back up.
"Do you remember if he ate something at dinner we didn't? Or maybe it was something that affected him because of his homeworld?" Unvoiced were her real questions: was it a poison? And was it intended for Anakin or for someone else?
She thinks it's poison too, Obi-Wan realized.
Obi-Wan shook his head, looking into the distance and trying to recapture his memories from the night before. "He doesn't like vegetables, so I doubt he ate all of those. And I believe I saw him take two desserts, instead of just one."
"But we ate everything he ate," she confirmed, jotting down his answer.
Obi-Wan nodded. "If I'm remembering correctly, the only possible difference is quantity."
Padme slumped down, resting her head in her hands and rubbing her fingers through her loosely bound hair, "I thought as much."
He's recovering as if it's an allergy. But using a poison that mimics an allergic reaction is common in many sectors of the galaxy. But why Anakin? Was it a poison meant to kill? Terrify? Incapacitate? It doesn't seem like it was meant to have long term effects if the blood work came out clean…. Either way, the Naboo have a serious breach in their security if someone was able to slip something in to a dinner hosting the most important man in the galaxy. That thought was not comforting.
He shook himself sternly, setting aside his anxieties and releasing what he could into the Force. But the Force was no help either way, chiming with the same distant warning he'd felt since the whole Naboo incident began—but nothing more clear than that.
"This is just the preliminary report. My security teams are exploring all possibilities right now, Obi-Wan, and have already started interviewing the staff and reviewing the security footage. The moment I know something, I'll pass it on."
Obi-Wan waited a beat, staring intently at the Queen. "Does your security team think it could be an assassination attempt?" he asked her directly.
Padme looked up sharply, eyes sliding to the left in an uncharacteristic display of evasion. Yes. "They are exploring all options and they will not release the details until they have come to any conclusions. If we have any more questions for you, we will come find you."
Do not investigate this on your own, was unspoken. Obi-Wan acknowledged it with a tilt of his head, unhappy, but willing to acquiesce for now. The Naboo had proven themselves trustworthy; Obi-Wan would let the investigation go—unless something else happened. Besides, after asking Panaka for the hangar footage, he doubted he could pull another favor so soon. He regretted it now, wasting his influence on something he couldn't change when he needed it now for something he could.
The conversation wound down from there, devolving into small talk before petering out entirely. Obi-Wan left shortly after, unsettled by the possibilities, leaving the underage Queen to her work.
Distant thunder rolled as he slowly walked back to the rooms.
Anakin batted blearily at the form hovering over him.
"Anakin! Psst…Anakin! Wake up!"
"Wuh? Ob'-Wan? 's dark…" his voice trailed off as he rolled over and settled his face on a particularly well drooled on portion of his pillow. He snuggled deeper into his blankets, drifting off once more.
Flash of light and then BOOM.
The sudden noise jerked Anakin from his sleep, jackknifing him upright. He only just missed bashing his head into Obi-Wan's. His eyes flashed around the room frantically. It took him a long moment to hear Obi-Wan's soothing voice over the pounding of his heart, and it didn't slow until a cool-breeze-calm-relax feeling washed over him. He realized that he was gripping Obi-Wan's sleeves so tightly his knuckles were white in the dark.
Slowly, he started to make out Obi-Wan's words. "It's ok, Anakin! It's ok…it's a thunderstorm; I thought you might like to watch it. See—" Obi-Wan pointed towards the darkened window, "it's raining outside."
Anakin nodded, still startled and tense. He'd heard about thunderstorms on the HoloNet, but he'd never seen one before. Obi-Wan began to gently disentangle Anakin's fingers from his sleeve.
"I thought you might want to watch the storm. It's over the city—you can see it coming out over the lake. Would you like to see?"
Anakin nodded again, slowly crawling out from his blankets. Another BOOM and he jumped. The windows rattled. Nerves lent him speed and he almost beat Obi-Wan to the window in the main room. The lights from Theed were greyed out behind a sheet of water, making Anakin feel somehow cut off from the world. Rain lashed against the windows, the droplets smacking hard against the glass; when he rested his fingertips against it, he could feel the window vibrating against the torrent, just like the windows did on Tatooine during a sandstorm. Comforted by the comparison, he stepped away from Obi-Wan until he was pressing against the glass trying to embrace the storm.
Flash—BOOM.
He jumped, flying backwards and crashing into Obi-Wan's torso. The man gave a surprisingly rumbly chuckle. "The lightening is made up of plasma, just like a lightsabre. But it's uncontrolled; it races through the sky and rips open the air as it jumps from the clouds to the ground. The thunder—the noise—is the sound of the air slamming closed again."
Anakin moved forward again, until he his breath misted the chilled window. His fingertips glossed over the glass, dotting it with perfectly fogged circles.
"How come the thunder and lightning don't match up?"
"What?"
"The lightning…it keeps happening before the thunder."
FlashBOOM.
"Light travels faster than sound."
Anakin nodded, filing away the useful fact for later. Now that he was no longer startled—not scared, he never got scared—by the thunder and lightning, he was entranced, waiting eagerly for the next burst. When it came, the roiling clouds changed from an invisible grey wall, lit dull yellow by the rain scattered lights of Theed to a mess of purples in every shade. The sheer power of the thunder rolled through him, making him feel like he was a part of it all. It was like a sandstorm, the way it moved through him, but so much stronger, more powerful. It was glorious.
Anakin loved Naboo.
They watched the storm from the window until long after it passed over the palace, until Obi-Wan tucked Anakin back into bed.
"I'm not staying here with you, Anakin."
Anakin Skywalker did not want to be left alone. But he really, really wanted to stay in bed all day again. It had been so much fun yesterday! Obi-Wan had entertained him doing Force tricks and Sabe had come by with more holovids. Sache and Yane had brought over a board game and they'd played a few rounds and Ninte had brought over a small box of droid parts to play with. Why couldn't he just do that again today?
"Obi-Wan! You can't leave—"
"I can and I will. I will not stay here all day catering to you, not when you are perfectly fine."
Anakin gave a pathetic cough.
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. It made Anakin feel like he'd stolen water from a little kid. Hating it, Anakin scowled back, crossing his arms mutinously.
The man was unimpressed. "You were perfectly fine all day yesterday—"
Anakin coughed again, but Obi-Wan pointedly ignored him, continuing, "—and you had no problem last night, staying up to watch the thunder storm."
Anakin shifted. That thunderstorm had been wizard. "That's different."
"You are welcome to join me if you'd like," Obi-Wan said in that awful bossy voice he liked to use, "but I will not encourage you to lie in bed all day. Again. Certainly not when the healer said you are perfectly fine."
"But I almost died!" Anakin whined, sinking deeper into his pillows under the weight of Obi-Wan's renewed look.
Anakin was too busy scowling to notice how rigid Obi-Wan had gone, how his face had gone stiff. For just a moment, it felt like something crackled in the air before everything went still.
But then Obi-Wan took a breath and spoke and the moment disappeared. "I'm well aware of that, Anakin, which is why you spent the day in bed yesterday with our company." He snapped his wrist. Anakin felt something shift a split second before the blanket he had snuggled under flew to the floor. "You need to get up. Now. Breakfast is over in thirty minutes and your lessons start right after."
It was Anakin's turn to be unimpressed. He rolled over, burying himself in his mound of pillows like they were blankets.
The child heard the muffled sounds of the Jedi turning to leave and he couldn't resist grinning, trusting the pillows to hide the expression on his face. Then Obi-Wan paused at the door and added, in a non-committal tone, "Lady Rabe had planned on having her brothers come up to the palace for a visit, but if you are going to be in bed all day…."
Anakin compared the benefits of staying in bed all day again against those of playing with his new friends; the allure of playing with people that weren't old and that weren't girls was too great for him to resist, no matter how nice being waited on had been.
"Wait!" he stopped Obi-Wan before the man could completely leave the bedroom. "I'll come! I'm getting up!"
He clambered out from his nest of pillows and dashed off to get dressed.
Anakin shifted nervously, hovering just behind and below Obi-Wan's elbow.
"What if they don't like me?" The kids—initiates Obi-Wan had said they were called—at the Temple hadn't liked him. They'd been nice, nicer than anyone on Tatooine even, but they didn't like him and certainly didn't want to play games with him. What if Naboo kids were the same? This had seemed like a good idea this morning, but he'd spent all his lessons thinking about it and now he wasn't sure at all.
Obi-Wan turned to face him, setting a strong hand on his back and pushing Anakin to stand next to him. The child resisted, forcing Obi-Wan to take most of his weight.
"Come on, stand up. If they don't like you then we'll let Rabe know and they can help you find new friends."
Anakin looked up beseechingly, hoping to make Obi-Wan relent.
"Come on," Obi-Wan cajoled. "Rabe's convinced you'll like them—"
"You thought I'd like those kids at the Temple—"
"And when you didn't, did I ask you to keep playing with them? Anakin, the Naboo won't make you play with anyone you don't want to—they just ask you to be nice."
Anakin scowled. He didn't want to be nice and he didn't want new friends! He wanted to keep his old friends! He wanted the ones he'd known since he could first run around, the ones who teased him about his podracing and knew what it was like to worry about family, the ones he'd played in the sand with. Not these new people, people tearing him away from what was his—
He was tired of replacing people.
The door on the far side of the room opened. Anakin scowled, wishing he's stayed in bed, and pressed back into Obi-Wan, watching the newcomers warily. He knew Rabe. She was really quiet, so Anakin didn't know her that well, but she'd been super nice to him ever since he'd left Tatooine. Her two brothers looked a lot like her.
Feeling slightly more hopeful, he stepped forward without waiting for Obi-Wan's encouragement. A hesitant smile inched across his face and was quickly matched by two beaming grins from the boys opposite him. They met him halfway across the room, leaving their sister to trail behind.
The taller one immediately took the lead. "I'm Sahl and this is my brother Gil." His voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm eight, but he's only five so we hafta be nice to him."
"I'm not five! I'm five an'a half!" the younger objected, shooting his brother a betrayed look. He stomped his foot for good measure. Sahl rolled his eyes at Anakin as if to say see what I mean?
"I'm Anakin," he interrupted. Despite the near argument, Anakin was relieved; the brothers seemed loads more like his old friends than like the stuffy kids in the Temple.
The three shook hands solemnly.
"Anakin, my brothers brought their beat-ball. Why don't you three go outside and start up a game?"
Anakin didn't even have time to worry that Sahl and Gil didn't like him—immediately they latched on to their sister's proposal and dragged Anakin outside. Caught up in their excitement, he didn't even think to look back.
Within minutes, the three were covered in mud and grinning like fiends.
The sky was pink, the thick breaking clouds painted the dark colors of sunset, remnants from last night's thunderstorm. Up-ahead, Anakin was playing with his newfound friends, Rabe's two little brothers, Sahl and Gil. Rabe herself, who was closer to Anakin's age than to Sabe's, was down the path as well, giggling has loudly as any of them. Anakin was happy, and that meant a lot to Obi-Wan. Their short time on Naboo had done more to help Anakin with his grief than more than a month in the Temple; the boy hadn't had one flashback since they'd landed.
Obi-Wan and Sabe meandered behind, keeping an eye on the group and on the time. The Force was oddly silent, doing nothing more than to swirl lazily around the group and the garden, reacting only peripherally to the joyful children. It was unsettling. Obi-Wan wasn't sure why.
"Are the Queen and Chancellor still determined to take their goodwill tour?"
Sabe's lips pursed. "The Queen refuses to believe that there is any threat, and without evidence to the contrary, the Captain will not press her to remain behind."
A snort escaped. A girl who visited Tatooine was unlikely to be afraid to travel her own planet, regardless of the risks.
"It will be her? Not you?"
"With the Chancellor so close, we couldn't take that risk. Besides, as she said, it's a goodwill tour; if it's not her, it rather defeats the point." Regardless of her verbal agreement with the Queen's policies, the Force was clear on the handmaiden's true feelings on the matter. It was dangerous for the Queen, after all. The man-in-black was still free, roaming somewhere, a threat to the planet, and the inquiry into the dinner still hadn't ruled out poison.
"She does have a point."
"Not you too!"
He chuckled shortly, but without humor, "I'm sorry. But if it was poison…they could have gotten the Queen just as easily the other night as they did Anakin."
As much as he was ready to return to the rhythm of the Temple, the idea of leaving Anakin behind one that he was not completely comfortable with. Anakin's brush had sharpened what was already there, a logic defying…discomfort (and really, the emotion wasn't any stronger than discomfort) at the idea of leaving Anakin behind.
What was wrong with him that he still wasn't ready to let go?
"So, the Chancellor hasn't decided to cancel his trip?" Obi-Wan asked, forcing himself from his thoughts.
Sabe shrugged elegantly with her eyebrows, "He tried to persuade the Queen to cancel—that's what their meeting was about yesterday, but she was adamant."
Obi-Wan made an expansive gesture. "It's to be expected. The Chancellor cannot afford to be outdone by a fourteen year old girl."
Sabe huffed with mild amusement.
"It's the truth."
She sighed in reluctant agreement, "Still, I wish neither were going. Everything is so uncertain."
The Jedi nodded, a slight frown crossing his face. "Did the Chancellor say why he was so averse to the trip?"
"Nothing in particular. It sounded like he was worried about security, after what happened to Anakin. His secretary sounded surprised that the Chancellor hadn't gotten the trip canceled outright. Apparently our ex-Senator is used to getting what he wants."
"Nothing more?"
"Not that his secretary knew when I talked to him last night. Why?"
"I don't know. Something just feels…off."
Darth Sidious opened the door, smiling a bright welcome to Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi.
"Welcome, my friend, welcome! I am afraid I haven't gotten to see much of you since we've arrived on Naboo," he said, ushering the young man into the office and inviting him to sit.
Kenobi predictably waved away the apology with a small smile, "I understand, Chancellor. I'm sure you have been very busy, planning for the tour and everything."
"Still, that is no reason to ignore my friends! How is young Anakin?" Palpatine knew perfectly well Anakin was fine—he'd selected the poison himself and knew the symptoms would have long since worn off.
Sidious pushed a stiff drink into Kenobi's hand before sitting down on the other side of the chess table next to the white pieces. It amused him that Kenobi's sense of fair-play meant the Sith often found himself playing the 'light' side.
"He is improving. He slept through the night and woke up yesterday morning, just like the healers said he would." Obi-Wan pulled out his Queen-side knight. "He attended his lessons today, and even had a play date this afternoon."
Palpatine made his second move, dragging a pawn forward, using it as a cover to feel out Kenobi's emotional state. It had to be just right, an exact combination of failure, worry, and attachment, all smothered in classic Jedi dispassion. Palpatine was just sad he hadn't been able to meet with the Jedi the day before, but those meetings with the damned Queen had kept him too busy.
"I am pleased to hear that." He held his drink up in silent salute before taking a sip and shifting another pawn. "There's no chance of a relapse though? I hear that can sometimes happen when there's a respiratory attack, especially if after overexertion."
There, a flicker of fear. Now, to draw it out further, make it real. Make it permanent.
"No, the healers said they got to him in plenty of time." Obi-Wan moved a pawn, "keeping him on bedrest was a precaution, nothing more."
"And there's still no word on what caused the reaction?"
"Not yet, though I believe the healers think it is an allergy, considering his quick recovery—"
A carefully crafted visage of worry and dismay and skepticism crested Darth Sidious' face, sparking a deeper fear in the Jedi sitting across from him. The power of body language, Palpatine thought, as he elicited a sharp tang of panic, of doubt, that quickly receded under Jedi calm. Perfect.
"You must be so concerned," he pitched his voice up slightly, implying worry.
"What do you mean?" Kenobi asked, as he fidgeted, running a finger over the beast's carved head before spinning it along the rounded base. He placed it on the board, threatening Sidious' queen.
"Leaving him here." He swept a manicured hand towards the window where some of the rubble from the invasion was still just visible. "The Naboo, his new guardians, they are all so young and Anakin has already almost died! What if…I mean, if it wasn't for your cool head that night…" Palpatine trailed off expertly, just barely shaking his head. He played at Kenobi's strings with the same ease he'd lured Anakin into having that extra dessert.
"I trust the Force." The perfect Jedi answer. "Anakin will be well provided for."
He moved a pawn. "I wish I had your faith! Times have been so troubled…to leave a small child in the middle of all of this…" His voice trailed off, letting the comment hang open and allowing Kenobi to fill it any way he liked. Palpatine shook himself, sharpening his eyes and lifting them to meet Obi-Wan's. "I am glad Anakin's doing so much better."
Kenobi gave a dispassionate smile, his Force presence calming to match the image he outwardly wore, "We are grateful for your concern. I will be let you know if anything changes," he promised.
Sidious allowed the conversation to shift. Palpatine knew how to hold his ground, and this time, it meant stop pressing forward. Kenobi would require the long game, since despite his young age, he knew how to bide his time. Sidious had seen as much in the course of their matches. Kenobi was observant and patient, willing to scope his opponent's strategies before committing to one himself. It made predicting his movements difficult—but not impossible. Now that Kenobi had caught on to the play and made his defense, it was simply time for Palpatine to alter his own approach and use the most appropriate means to maneuver the Jedi to where he wanted him. Sidious was patient. Far more patient than the young upstart opposite.
Besides, there was no cause for concern; his plans were progressing exactly as he'd known they would. He licked a drip of scotch from the corner of his mouth. Maul had dealt with the dinner exactly as ordered and Skywalker and his Force-chosen teacher would be fleeing to the Jedi by the end of the week, solving that incomprehensible example of stupidity. Once back on Coruscant, he had all the time in the galaxy to groom them. Although he had expected to avoid that Force-cursed tour, it was of no matter. The plan would proceed as expected and he would maneuver the two where he wanted them.
As the conversation wandered to the relatively neutral topic of the missing palace guards (How is it that no one has found even the slightest trace of them?), Palpatine was reminded of how much was to be gained with such an astute slave. Maul was useful, but he had the subtlety of a blunted spoon and relied totally on animal cunning and brute force. Sometimes, the Darkside required a laser-scalpel, someone with precision rather than savagery. Combine that with Skywalker's dedication, his talent, his raw power? Palpatine delicately sipped from his tumbler while he angled to corner Kenobi's queen. How fortunate it was that he'd caught Kenobi when his foundations were cracked, when he was weak enough to reveal his hairline vulnerabilities. It was a gift he would not squander.
What use did he have for the Rule of Two? The Sith would not be hiding in the shadows for much longer.
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