Jedi Knight 13 – Ha! I'm glad you're enjoying Obi-wan's display of complete naivety. It's been fun to write – and a good opportunity for some levity in a story that's about to turn pretty dark. Thanks for the kind words!
Avschick33 – Yeah, Palpatine is one sneaky dude, huh? As for the ending – the end result is similar to RotS. So… So, I guess the answer would be that technically it's not worse. Hooray! Thanks for reading!
Jedi Master Arie Skywalker – I'm thrilled that you noticed my choice of words about Palpatine's voice. That is so cool! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Your support has been wonderful!
Eriks leadinglady – I have to agree with you – orange juice with pulp is definitely not my beverage of choice. And yes, Palpatine is definitely a jerk of the highest order. I hate him and yet my muse insists that I keep him alive. Sometimes I want to punch my muse. Hee! Congrats on the cool myspace page. And I love your Yoda comment – too funny! Thanks for reading!
ThoseWereTheDays – Hi there! Welcome to the story! I'm glad you're enjoying it – hope I can continue to capture your attention. There's still a lot more story to tell!!!!
The Last Guardian – Aw, I would never abandon you guys! Unfortunately, real life creeps up more often than I would like but I'll keep plugging along. As for Anakin – well, this is setting up for ANH so things are not looking so good for our hero.
meandmysharpie – It was so great to hear from you – you've been such an avid reader, it's always nice to see your name pop up. Hope you've had a good trip – and if you thought you were annoyed at Palpatine before… Oooh boy; I have a feeling you'll be off the charts after this one.
ALL – Things continue to be incredibly busy but I'll be back as soon as possible with more. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!
"Keep pushing, Senator!" the droid instructed.
Padmé groaned as her body struggled to obey, rivulets of sweat soaking the neckline of her thin nightgown. She knew she must look frightful, having abandoned all traces of decorum hours earlier - well, almost all traces. Thankfully, a medi-shield still covered her from waist to knee.
"Push!"
"I can't!" she cried. Exhaustion pulsed through her, and she gave into the urge to sink into the pile of pillows behind her.
Yet Obi-wan was right there to prop her back up again. "You can do this, Padmé," he murmured. "I know you can."
"No," she protested. "I need Anakin, he should be here."
"He'll be with you soon, but you know he wouldn't want you to give up. So, on the count of three, I want you to push."
"No."
"One-"
"Obi-wan."
"Two-"
"I can't!"
"Three!"
Padmé's fingernails dug into the skin of her thighs, leaving behind crescent-shaped imprints as she focused every ounce of her remaining strength. Gritting her teeth, she let out a strangled scream…
…and was finally rewarded with the beautiful sound of a baby's cry.
"Senator, you have a boy!" the droid announced.
"A son!" Padmé breathed.
She turned towards Obi-wan, noting his awestruck gaze. Side-by-side, they watched the droid cleanse the squalling infant and wrap him in the folds of a soft blanket. Once the two tasks were completed to her satisfaction, Eight-Bee rolled towards the cot.
Padmé was already stretching out a shaking hand, longing to trace the contours of the tiny face. At her touch, the indignant cries slowed into hiccupping gasps.
"He knows me," she murmured, flinching as her abdomen tightened in another wave of pain. "I want to hold him, but the contractions... I shouldn't risk it. Eight-Bee, can you give him to Master Kenobi, please? I think the little one should meet his honorary grandfather."
"Oh, no," Obi-wan sputtered. He threw his hands up in a show of surrender. "I mean, I don't even know the proper technique-"
His denials were cut off by the weight of the squirming bundle as it settled easily into the crook of his arm. Tiny arms flailed uncontrollably, bumping him repeatedly on the chin. He instinctively tightened the blanket and the baby relaxed, enjoying the familiar sensation.
"It seems to me your technique is-" The rest of Padmé's statement went unsaid as pain gripped her midsection even tighter than before. Eight-Bee took a hurried check of the scanners, servomotors whirring quietly as the results were processed.
"The time for the next birth is approaching more rapidly than I anticipated, Senator," the droid reported.
"I just had a baby," Padmé moaned. She knew she was being deliberately argumentative but she couldn't bring herself to care. "I think I deserve some rest before I have to do it again."
"You mustn't delay-"
But Padmé was already turning away, nodding towards her newborn son. "He's all right?"
"He's perfect." Obi-wan moved closer so she could stroke the downy hair that covered the baby's head. "But I have noticed that he seems to miss the presence of his sibling. I do hope you won't make him wait too long, he's had quite a tough day as it is."
She sighed in defeat. "You're too sneaky for your own good."
"I may have heard that a time or two before." He grinned before stepping out of the way, leaving Eight-Bee more room to maneuver. The droid immediately took advantage, setting out a clean set of medical instruments. The unexpected sight of the scalpels made Padmé queasy and she averted her gaze to something more pleasant.
Her son.
Obi-wan was whispering to him animatedly, using the calm tones that were renowned for soothing even the most hardened warriors. Despite the Order's rules on attachment, it was clear her children were going to be well loved - something that was only going to be reaffirmed when their father finally had the chance to meet them. She couldn't wait for that day to arrive.
Unfortunately, at that moment her daydreams were shattered by a spear of white-hot pain. It careened through her abdomen with the impact of a thousand knives. Her body arched off the bed and she pressed a fist to her mouth in attempt to stifle her shrieks.
She was unsuccessful.
"What is it?" Obi-wan asked. His eyes darted between her and the now-wailing infant, looking uncertain and torn.
"I don't know," Padmé whimpered. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks but she couldn't find the will to wipe them away. "Oh, it hurts!"
Even as her patient tossed and turned, Eight-Bee settled a curtain around the lower half of her body. The medi-shield was then discarded, the metallic tray moved into a more strategic position and another scan initiated.
The results were not what they wanted to hear.
"The baby is not in the proper birthing position, and the heart rate is dropping," the droid explained. "A surgical procedure must be performed to ensure the health of both mother and child. Senator, I am going to give you something for the pain but my programming tells me it will temporarily counteract the ysalamiri's effects."
"Try to maintain your shields, Padmé," Obi-wan urged before turning to Eight-Bee. "Surgery? Will she be all right?"
Padmé didn't get to hear the droid's response as a blue mask was fitted over her face, muffling the conversation until it sounded as though it was coming from another room. The edges of her vision blurred, shapes and colors swirling together until everything faded to black.
And she felt him. Anakin.
Yet there was no accompanying feeling of warmth, of the light she always associated with her husban's presence... No, this time his aura was… different. Ominous.
Cold.
"Ani?" she called worriedly. "What's wrong? Where are you?"
She took a step forward, her hands outstretched in the hopes she could still find him amidst the darkness.
Nothing.
"I can't find you, Ani!"
She could feel the tug of her consciousness, the slip of a needle into her vein. She knew what it was - the next dose of ysalamiri. Time was running out.
"Please hear me," she cried. "I love you!"
There was a flicker of recognition, of hope... but the connection evaporated as quickly as it had come, and she found herself staring at the ceiling as a second's baby cry joined the cacophony of the medical ward.
"Senator, it's a girl!"
But this time, her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
CORUSCANT - CHANCELLOR PALPATINE'S OFFICE
Anakin stared at the doors, startled by what he had seen. It was as if they had been slammed shut by an invisible hand. "How did you do that?"
"We shall discuss that later," Palptine insisted airily. "In the meantime, let's just say that I am a man of many hidden talents. Now, please have a seat."
Too puzzled to disobey, Anakin sank into the closest chair.
"Thank you. Would you care for something to drink - a glass of wine to soothe your nerves, perhaps?"
Anakin shook his head and leaned forward impatiently, his hands on his knees. "Chancellor, what's going on?"
"First, you must know that I do not wish to add to your troubles. You understand that, don't you? The timing... oh, if there was anything I could do to spare you from this, I would." At the young man's pained nod, Palpatine continued, "I've received word that the Jedi are about to launch their attack against me."
Anakin shot to his feet so abruptly he nearly lost his balance. "We've been through this. The Jedi are the guardians of the Republic! They wish you no harm. Why else would they send me to oversee your security?"
"They sought to distract you."
He snorted in disbelief. "From what?"
"From the real reason they sent Senator Amidala away."
At the mention of his wife, Anakin's legs gave way. Thankfully, he was still standing in front of the chair he had previously vacated, thereby avoiding an embarrassing tumble. "What about Padmé?"
"They wanted to take her out of the equation, to destroy the woman who would dare to interfere with the Chosen One's destiny."
"You're lying!" Anakin snarled. "Such an accusation goes against everything the Jedi stand for. Besides, the Council views Padmé as a friend, and even if they didn't - she is one of their greatest allies in the Senate!"
"That is how they used to see her. That is, before she became the wife of Anakin Skywalker."
"Are you saying her death is my fault?" he whispered.
"By the stars, of course not! How could you have known that you would be betrayed by the Order you came to trust so deeply? The injustice of it sickens me, my boy... but you must know the truth. All of it."
Palpatine bowed his head, pretending to gather the courage to continue.
"The official reports are claiming that the transport exploded due to a fuel leak," he noted. "However, my aides tell me there are whispers of something much more sinister."
Suddenly, Anakin didn't want to hear any more. "No."
"They say Master Kenobi executed the supposed 'accident.' In his defense, he was apparently quite upset with the Council's instructions. But being the dogmatic Jedi that he is, he couldn't bear to refuse; after all, it was for the good of the Order."
"No."
"The Holo-net report that your former Master has gone into hiding is true. I have no doubt that he is ashamed of what he has done. And most likely, he is afraid to face you."
Anakin gave a bitter laugh. "Obi-wan Kenobi does not fear me."
"But we both know he should, don't we, Anakin? Remember what you told me about the Sand People. If you were to face your former Master wielding that type of power, he could never defeat you. All you have to do is bring it to the surface. Together, we will stand against the traitors that destroyed your wife and now seek to do the same to the Republic."
Palpatine watched Anakin begin to pace, his metallic fist clenching and unclenching in a physical manifestation of his anger. He hid his smile, sensing victory was at hand - all that was left to do was throw out one last piece of bait.
"A member of my intelligence staff has intercepted the coordinates of Master Kenobi's hiding place. Say the word and the information is yours - as you know, my shuttle is already prepared for whatever destination you choose."
"And what of the rest of the Jedi?" Anakin murmured.
"I know it would be difficult for you to face them and that is quite understandable, son. That is where our clone army comes in. As we've discussed previously, their programming does not allow them to share the same clouded sense of loyalty as their commanders. They will do their job and do it well."
"What job? Are you going to have the Jedi killed?"
Palpatine fought a flare of annoyance at the unease that permeated the question. The loyalty his future apprentice still displayed for the Jedi was not something he would tolerate much longer.
"Well now, that will be up to them, won't it?" he lied smoothly. "Of course, I do hope they will come willingly. Contrary to what they may plan for me, I do not believe in cold-blooded murder."
He strolled to his desk, waiting for Anakin's response. But one never came. He finally turned to seek out his wayward companion and found him standing before the window bay, gazing at the bustling cityscape beyond. His blue eyes were narrowed in concentration and actually seemed... hopeful?
Palpatine's stomach clenched.
"Anakin?" he ventured suspiciously. "What is it? Has something happened?"
"I felt her."
At the whispered confession, a flurry of curses ran through the Chancellor's mind though years in politics kept his expression neutral. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"I must go."
Offering nothing further in the way of explanation, the Jedi sprinted from the room. Several moments later, the roar of the shuttle's engines could be heard. Palpatine waited for the noise to fade away before pulling the dark side around him.
"This isn't over yet, Jedi," he smirked.