Wait For Me

by Riniel o Imladris

Please...wait for me. A simple request, made by a man who loved her enough to sell his soul to darkness. And if she had heeded his plea, what then? Would their fate still be filled with sorrow, or would the light blaze a new path? Revenge of the Sith AU

13. Paradigm Shift: Intermezzo

Chapter Nine
Paradigm Shift: Intermezzo

Padmé wondered if Ani was all right.
The look on his face as she had been carted away by the med droids had plunged into her heart like a blade. He had scarcely left her side all during their flight, and she wanted to reassure him that she was healthy. The med droids assisted her in undressing, placing her soiled clothing in the waste container, and she shivered in the cooler air before a pristine white medical gown was draped around her body.
"Now, Milady," MD-02 said in its comforting motherly voice, "We will assess your injuries and begin treatment before conducting some tests on your babies." During their initial questions, Padmé had informed the droids that she was carrying twins. The other med droid – MD-05, she believed – helped her sit down on the cot and exposed her wounded shoulder. Noting the bandaging Anakin had wrapped around the burned skin, MD-05 stated in a warm masculine tone, "Field dressing has been applied to the wound, along with a kolto patch. Have you taken any painkillers, Milady?"

"No," Padmé shook her head. "I know the risks of those drugs harming my babies." MD-05 pulled out of pair of surgical scissors and snipped through the gauze, and then slowly peeled it away. Padmé felt as if her shoulder was being rubbed with sand, and she pressed her lips tightly together to keep from moaning.
MD-05 studied the wound for a moment, voicing an analysis. "Long-range blaster round into the left shoulder, most likely from a military-issue weapon. The bolt missed the clavicle and main arteries, and exited through the scapula, fracturing the bone." Padmé grimaced. A flesh wound healed easier and faster than skeletal damage. No wonder she was in so much pain. "Milady, I am going to give you a mild anesthetic to numb your shoulder and upper back, and then I will inject a chemical directly into the bone that will accelerate the regeneration process. It will not affect your offspring," MD-05 added after seeing her worried expression. "After that, we will repair the trauma to your skin and muscles."
That said, MD-02 floated over to the cot, carrying a tray stocked with needles, swabs, and various other instruments. MD-05 picked up a smaller needle filled with a clear fluid and disappeared from her field of vision, until its' voice came from behind her. "I am going to administer the anesthetic now, Milady."
Padmé squeezed her eyes shut as several jabs of the needle went into her back, shoulder, and part of her neck. Almost instantaneously, a strange tingling sensation consumed her entire shoulder, and no matter how much she concentrated, it refused to respond.

"Do you feel this, Milady?" MD-05 asked. She couldn't feel anything on that part of her body – it was like it wasn't there. She shook her head, stray ringlets of her dark hair hanging in front of her eyes.
MD-02 then handed across the cot to MD-05 a long hollow needle containing a milky white substance, and Padmé felt her heart leap into her throat. The needle had to be as long as her forearm, and she knew that it was going to be pushed in all the way to her bone.
Padmé gripped her gown in both fists and tried to take deep breaths, desperately wishing that Anakin were here with her. He would tell her in his deep, calming voice that everything would be all right, and then he would take her hand and rub the pad of his thumb over the skin. She imagined that he was there, right beside her, and the white-knuckled hands clenching her white gown loosened. She felt a slight pressure on her back, and she focused her mind on Ani's face – a face that she had memorized in great detail so that while he was away fighting in the war, she could pretend that he was with her.
"All finished, Milady."

Padmé opened her eyes with surprise. MD-05 drifted around the cot and hovered by her knees, holding a large jar of pale, viscous fluid. "This is bacta, Milady. It is a revolutionary healing product imported from Chandrila." She nodded slightly. Her colleague in the Senate, Mon Mothma, had mentioned it before. "It has not yet been made available to the populace, but it vastly surpasses the curative properties of kolto." MD-05 opened the jar and dipped a swath of gauze into the bacta. The scent reminded Padmé of a lake in autumn – earthy and rich. Once the gauze was thoroughly coated, MD-05 lifted it out of the jar with tweezers and placed it expertly over the blaster wound. The med droid laid gauze on the front and back of her shoulder, completely covering the angry red blisters, and then wrapped a flesh-colored material around it. The material bonded immediately to her skin, and MD-05 explained, "This will keep the moisture from the bacta against the wound and allow the healing process to continue."
MD-02 adjusted Padmé's medical gown so that her shoulder was covered, and then the med droid said, "If you will please stand, Milady, I will help you into the hoverchair so we can take you into the main examination room." Timidly, Padmé slipped her bare feet into a pair of thin slippers and pushed herself to her feet. She tottered to the hoverchair, lifting the hem of her white garment and sat down. Once she was settled, MD-02 guided the hoverchair as MD-05 led the way through a door opposite the one she had entered from the corridor. Padmé found herself in another corridor that was nearly an exact replica of all the others, except that this one had a row of curved transparisteel windows that framed a large room with an oval-shaped bed floating in the center. One entire wall was covered with panels and display boards that were lit up, waiting to receive data.

The hoverchair glided into the room, and Padmé found herself looking up at another droid – this one was fairly larger than the med droids, and its hands were spoon-shaped, with no finger-like digits. Its face was flat, with one blue eye and one green, and one was bigger than the other. But Padmé was not disturbed by the droid's appearance, even as it drifted forward and spoke softly in an alien dialect.
"This is MW-001, our midwife droid," MD-05 clarified, "She is programmed only in the language of the Polis Massans, but she is very competent and will assist in the examination." Padmé merely nodded, feeling slightly overwhelmed. It seemed as if everything in this room was designed specifically for her. She knew that wasn't true – but it gave the impression that it was somehow…appropriate that she was here at this MedCenter – a MedCenter that was part of a colony that she had never heard of before yesterday.
MD-02 bade her to sit on the table and lay down, and Padmé did so, her distended stomach bulging the smooth white fabric. She felt the twins shift around and smiled briefly. She remembered the first time that she felt movement inside her, and her shock had swiftly mingled with joy as she stared down at the barely-visible bump. And the first time she had seen them on the display screen during an ultrasound and realized that she was going to have twins…

Padmé quickly turned her head sideways and asked MD-02, "Before you begin, MD-02, would it be possible for Jedi Skywalker to join me for the duration of the exam?"
"I would like to grant your request, Milady… But the equipment in this room is very sensitive, and only an immediate family member is permitted to enter during an exam." The med droid said regretfully.
"He is family," Padmé retorted without thinking. She almost gasped at her lack of prudence, but now that she could think clearly about their situation – did it matter? If the med droids and other medical staff were made aware of Anakin's standing as her husband, he would be allowed to attend all examinations, visit her room, and be with her during labor – if indeed she gave birth here.
"Milady?" MD-02 was asking in puzzlement, pulling her out of her contemplation.
Padmé looked straight at MD-02, brown eyes blinking seriously, and said the words that had been burning inside of her for four years. "He is family. He is my husband and my twins' father. Please have him brought here before you begin the examination."

MD-05 suddenly zoomed over to the bedside, speaking to MD-02. "The Administrator has confirmed the Senator's relation." MD-02 dipped its head and floated away as MD-05 addressed Padmé. "Jedi Skywalker is on his way, Milady."
Padmé sighed gratefully and let her head roll back, closing her eyes with relief. She only hoped that Anakin was not upset that their secret was out.

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"A mild concussion, second-degree ion burn, bruised ribs, and a fractured tibia."
Obi-Wan managed a weak grin. "Is that all?" He joked at the med droid.
"Please lie back, Master Kenobi," MD-01 instructed calmly. Obi-Wan complied obediently, and fell inside himself as the droid chattered about mending his injuries, using this idle time to try and expand his awareness of the Force. He touched it easier than before, but its echo was faint and disjointed; like music that was playing through an old holoreader, he only caught broken strains of melody.
He felt as if he floated inside of a bubble, and the currents of the universe flowed around him, carrying him to his destination – wherever it may be. But he could not touch the currents. Like the thin membrane of a bubble, something still held Obi-Wan back, placing boundaries on his consciousness.
It was thoroughly frustrating.

In due course, MD-01 informed the Jedi Master that treatment had been successfully administered, and that it would be several days before the injury to his leg was fully healed. Then MD-01 said, "If you are well enough to travel, Master Kenobi, I will escort you to Administrator Tuun's private office."
"Very well." Obi-Wan gingerly swung his legs over the side of the cot and stood, testing his balance on the lightweight cast the med droids had wrapped around his right calf. They had given him a set of white medical clothes consisting of a short-sleeved shirt and pants that tied around his waist, as well as a pair of flimsy slippers. The med droids had thrown his burnt and torn Jedi outfit into the waste and had offered to store his lightsaber in a secure locker within the Administrator's office. He had agreed – reluctantly.
He wanted to demonstrate trust to their hosts. But he planned to retrieve the weapon from Tuun as soon as he was able. He sensed no immediate threat, but there was a…heaviness in the air, and it put him on edge.

Obi-Wan followed MD-01 through the door and down the corridor, turning left and right at seemingly random intersections until he felt as if the med droid was purposefully keeping him from memorizing the route. The corridors were abandoned, save for med droids and the occasional Polis Massan. The latter would slow as he approached and bow respectfully, and then continue on their way. Obi-Wan understood then that MD-01 was leading him through corridors that avoided the main sections of the MedCenter, ensuring that his presence remained a closely guarded secret.
He strode down a short corridor that had only one door, situated at the far end. MD-01 halted a few meters away and gestured for Obi-Wan to continue, saying, "Administrator Tuun will be expecting you."
Obi-Wan nodded his thanks and the droid zipped down the hall and out of sight. He walked towards the door, studying the alien writing engraved on the frame and, uncertain of what to do, touched a palm to the door. It was surprisingly warm, and as soon as his skin made contact, the door withdrew into the ceiling.

Tuun looked up from behind a translucent desk that hovered above the floor and called, "Come in, my friend." Obi-Wan stepped inside, the door closing behind him, and moved to the round chair across from Tuun. The Administrator typed on a keypad and a small display screen sank into the desk, and then he fixed Obi-Wan with unblinking black eyes. "How are you feeling?" he asked genially.
"Better, thanks to your skilled med droids," Obi-Wan complimented, shifting in his seat. "But I'm afraid that I may not have much time for healing. There are some matters we must discuss before-"
"Forgive me for interrupting, Master Kenobi," Tuun said, "But I have a matter to bring to your attention right away."
Obi-Wan's stomach clenched, and he gripped the arms of his chair, fighting to keep his expression neutral as he replied, "Go on."
"It seems that Senator Amidala is requesting that Jedi Skywalker be present during our examination of her offspring. In accordance to our policy, only an immediate family member is granted that right." Tuun leaned forward. "She has insisted that Jedi Skywalker is her husband."
The Jedi Master silently looked at the Administrator for a full minute, and then sat back wearily, running a hand over his eyes. Tuun said quietly, "I do not ask for explanations – what I do ask for is the truth. Can you confirm that he is the Senator's husband?" Obi-Wan closed his eyes behind the cover of his raised hand and sighed. His precautions for their safety would have to be severely modified. The Administrator had already stated that the med droids' memories would be wiped, but now records would need to be destroyed, data erased…every insignificant detail of their stay here must be eliminated. Except for Tuun himself.

Obi-Wan lowered his hand and stared at the Polis Massan. He suspected that Tuun had no idea how much danger he was putting himself into by attaining this knowledge.
He affirmed in a low voice, "Yes…Anakin is her husband."
At once, Tuun punched keys on his desktop and the computer chirruped, indicating that the information had been sent. He then folded his large hands and gazed at Obi-Wan with a slightly tilted head. "I know that what you have endured these past few days are horrors that I cannot begin to imagine. I know that I cannot prove to you that I am trustworthy. But know this – I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to guarantee the protection of this information."
Obi-Wan nodded, letting a tendril of Force energy brush against Tuun's essence. The alien psyche reminded the Jedi Master of a deep pool – unfathomable and mysterious. But he did sense the familiar flavor of empathy from the Administrator, as well as the genuine desire to aid them in any way he could.
He pulled away from the Force and gave a small smile. "I believe you. But I am afraid that this information could place you personally in danger. We must take every preventative measure to delete all tangible evidence of our sojourn at this MedCenter – but the mind is far more complicated."
Tuun nodded seriously. "As I said, I will do everything in my power to safeguard this knowledge. Anything you suggest will be done." He called up a trio of display screens and gestured to each one as he spoke. "I have access to the Port Control archives, medical records, and the colony mainframe. Where do we begin?"

Obi-Wan blinked. Tuun was giving him – a wanted fugitive of the Empire – direct access to the main computer, a feat that may get him arrested or killed. "Administrator," he said hesitantly. "While I am deeply appreciative of all you have done and are prepared to do…I must ask you a question." He paused for a moment, wondering how to voice his thoughts. "Why do you feel so indebted to the Jedi?"
Tuun looked at him, unblinking, his stark white face in sharp contrast to the fabric of his hood.
He answered in a tone that overlaid a myriad of emotions. "I have seen one lone Jedi stand between countless innocents and oblivion with no care for his own life, and I have seen that same Jedi pass on his selfless devotion to many generations." Tuun opened a compartment in his desk and held out Obi-Wan's lightsaber, the metallic hilt glittering in the wan light. "The Jedi are a light that must never be extinguished, Obi-Wan Kenobi. That is why I will do whatever is necessary to preserve that light."
Obi-Wan gazed at the Administrator with an indefinable expression, and slowly took his lightsaber from Tuun's long-fingered hand.

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Anakin followed the med droid down the corridor with barely restrained glee. He was going to see Padmé! He had no idea what story she had concocted to allow him to see her, but he did not care. MD-03 had cleaned and dressed the cut on his temple and declared that he was otherwise healthy, except for obvious physical signs of fatigue and stress. The droid had persistently told him to change into the medical clothes, and he had complied, if only to get him to shut up.
After he had folded his tunic and pants, asking that they keep the outfit in storage, Anakin wondered idly where he had left his lightsaber. With a shrug, he figured that it was probably on the skiff.
They entered an empty corridor with a long row of transparisteel windows, and through them Anakin could see his angel, lying on a floating table with droids hovering around her. She turned her head, beaming as she saw him. The med droid paused at the doorway and motioned him inside, saying, "Please go in, Jedi Skywalker. The exam of your wife has not yet begun."
Anakin felt his lungs seize up. His heart thundered in his ears, and MD-03 drifted away even as he stood there in utter stupefication. What did he say?

The door whooshed open, and another med droid greeted him, motioning him inside. "Please come inside, Jedi Skywalker." He walked in a daze, heading directly for Padmé. When he stood beside her, looking down into her dark eyes, her smile faded.
"Don't be angry with me," she pleaded softly, taking his flesh hand. "I wanted you to be here for this, and this was the only way you would be allowed inside."
When he heard her voice, Anakin seemed to snap out of his daze. His blue eyes shone with warmth, and he gently squeezed her hand. "I'm not angry. I was just…surprised. I'm not used to being called that in public." He bent closer, and his lips brushed hers as he spoke. "But it was wonderful to hear." He gave her a brief kiss and then straightened as MD-02 floated to the bedside.
"If you will step back for a moment, Jedi Skywalker." He slowly backed away towards the display wall, keeping his gaze locked on Padmé. "Now," MD-02 addressed her, "please remain still. The scanners will begin momentarily." The lights dimmed, and lines of pale blue light drifted over Padmé's body, concentrating on her abdomen. She glanced over at her husband, who was watching the scene with wide eyes. The room brightened, and MD-02 announced, "Preliminary scan complete."

Padmé reached out a hand. "Come here, Ani." He came forward immediately, taking her hand while staring at the white swell of her belly. She had been through this test before, and she could hardly contain her excitement over getting to share this with Anakin. He was still staring at her belly, biting his lower lip.
"What is it?" she asked softly.
"Does that hurt them?" He sounded so worried, and she had to laugh.
"No, it's only an ultrasound – I've had one before." She explained, "They use high-frequency sound waves to generate an image of what's happening inside me." Her eyes flickered sideways, and her face lit up. "Look," she whispered, pointing at the display behind him.
Anakin's brow wrinkled in confusion, and he turned to look, unsure of what she meant. One side of the monitor was displaying a circular image of reds and yellows. Anakin tilted his head, squinting. It looked like an arm, and there – that could be a leg. And he thought he saw the outline of a face. He glanced back at Padmé, and she was smiling with such beauty that it took his breath away.

"Heartbeat detected. Filtering through aural monitors," MD-02 announced. A rapid thumping noise filled the room, and Anakin listened in bewilderment. Padmé was still smiling like she was privy to a grand secret, and he looked back at the screen. The image had sharpened, and now he could make out a hand with tiny fingers half-curled, held up before a small mouth.
His head whipped around to his wife, and she could see that he was starting to understand. She gave him a small nod, feeling inexplicable tears welling in her eyes as she murmured, "That's our son, Ani."
The look on his handsome face made her want to laugh and cry and kiss him all at once. He turned back to the screen, his hand slipping from hers as he walked right up to the image of their unborn son.

Anakin felt stars explode behind his eyes. He could see his son before he was born – while he was still sheltered inside his mother. It was too miraculous for him to comprehend. He walked up to the screen, staring at the image in awe. He asked quietly, "And that thumping?"
"That's his heartbeat."
Unable to help himself, Anakin's palm stretched out and caressed the screen, a hot lump filling his throat. My son, his heart whispered reverently. The med droid's voice broke into his reverie as it pronounced, "Second heartbeat detected. Displaying image on screen."
On the far side of the display, another circular image swam into view, occupied by a tiny body twisted sideways. One of its legs kicked out suddenly and Padmé jumped in surprise.
She grinned at Anakin. "She's a feisty one." Anakin's jaw dropped. In his wonderment over his son, he had completely forgotten that there were two little ones nestled inside his angel. Feeling like he was in a dream, Anakin walked over to the other side, staring at the image of his daughter. Unlike her twin, she stayed in near-constant motion, feet flailing against her mother's womb as if she was eager to leave this dark place and see the world. "She can't seem to stay in one position for too long," Padmé commented in a soft voice just above a whisper, watching her husband's face. She chuckled under her breath. "She gets that from you," she teased.

Anakin's fingers stroked the image of their daughter, feeling his mouth quirk into a lopsided grin.
He slowly retreated from the screen, widening his view so that he could see both at once. Squares of colored lines and numbers appeared on other parts of the display, and he watched one green line jump up and down with each twins' heartbeat. Eyes glued on the screen, Anakin walked to the far side of Padmé's bed and knelt down. He closed his eyes and laid his head on her shoulder. Padmé instinctively rolled her head sideways and their foreheads touched. Anakin's broad shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh, and reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. His long eyelashes fluttered, and intense blue eyes burned into her gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, rubbing their noses together. "Thank you for making sure I was here for this."
Her dark eyes glowed as she smiled at him fondly. The sweet moment ended when MD-02 floated over to them, and the young couple drew apart to look at the med droid. "Prenatal exam indicates that both offspring are in excellent health." Padmé breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and Anakin glanced back at her with an encouraging smile. "I am concerned, however, with the rising probability of premature labor," MD-02 resumed. "At this stage in the pregnancy, your uterus cannot expand any further to accommodate the growth of two fully developed fetuses. But we must make every effort to extend their time in the womb as much as possible. So," The med droid moved closer to Padmé's head, looking down into her face. "You are to greatly reduce your physical activity. Use the hoverchair as often as you can, and get plenty of bed rest. Do not stand in one place for more than ten minutes, and always ask for assistance whenever you need to sit or lay down." Padmé nodded silently – it was not as though she could argue with a droid, and MD-02 motioned to MW-001.

The midwife droid guided the hoverchair over to the bedside, and Anakin slipped an arm around Padmé's back, supporting her as he helped ease her into a sitting position. Padmé hid a smile over the way he orbited around her, keeping his palm on her lower back while the other held her arm as she carefully put her feet on the floor. His delicate grasp made her feel as if she were made of glass, and while she did take the med droid's advice seriously, she was hardly fragile. Another med droid entered the room, and showed them the way back to Padmé's room. Anakin looked around curiously, noting that the room was considerably larger than his, with a round white chair on one side of her bed. A refresher unit was situated in the far right corner, and a rectangular viewport facing the bed showed the asteroid belt as it circled the colony.

The med droid folded back the bedclothes as Anakin helped his wife out of the hoverchair, and then settled her on the mattress, fluffing the pillow before she lay down. He tucked the covers around her as the droid soundlessly departed, and ordered mock-seriously, "You heard the MD; you need plenty of bed rest."
Padmé looked up at him wryly. "I don't like feeling helpless. I'm not weak."
Anakin kissed her, and leaning over the bed, replied softly, "I know you are not weak, or helpless. But if I have to tie you to the bed, I will. This is what's best for you and the twins." He said all of this with quiet sincerity, blue eyes alight, and she couldn't help but to agree with him.
She released a deep breath and snuggled under the blankets. Then she noticed the bandage on his temple and asked, "What about you? Are you all right?"
He smirked at her, pulling an extra cover from the bed and settling his tall frame in the chair. "I'm fine – it's only a surface wound. Although I do 'exhibit the physical signs of fatigue and stress.'" He mimicked, his grin broadening. Padmé stared at him worriedly, and his face softened as he reached out and brushed a fingertip across her cheek. "Trust me, I'm fine. I'm going to get some sleep right now, in fact." He spread the blanket over his chest and leaned back into the chair, bobbing slightly as the weight shifted.
Padmé continued to look at him, but the worry faded from her expression. She sank further into the mattress, eyelids drooping, and she said sleepily, "Promise me you'll stay here."
He smiled at her – that special smile he only gave her – and whispered, "I promise." He watched her until her breathing deepened, her chest rising and falling softly, the outline of her hand resting on her belly under the blankets. With the images of their twins – their hopes – drifting through his mind's eye, Anakin fell to sleep.

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After sifting through data files for over two hours, Administrator Tuun had declared that it was time for a reprieve. Obi-Wan got up from his chair, wincing as the normal flow of blood returned to his legs, and stretched his stiff neck. Tuun also climbed to his feet, and told the Jedi Master, "It is time for me to make my appointed rounds. Please feel free to move about. There is a small conference room through that door," he pointed at a portal on the left. "It may serve as a suitable change of scenery."
Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "That sounds like a good idea. After you finish your rounds, could you send Anakin here? I would like to fill him in on our progress." Tuun nodded, and then headed out of the office, the door closing as he exited. Obi-Wan made his way to the door that Tuun had indicated, a chill sweeping over his bare arms. The MedCenter's atmospheric controls were set at a lower temperature than most.
It must have something to do with Polis Massan physiology.
Obi-Wan entered the conference room, and immediately noticed that the room was bathed in a dim silvery glow. As he stepped inside, he realized where the light originated from, and paused in amazement.
The room had rounded walls, and the two opposite the door were made completely of transparisteel, revealing a spectacular view of the asteroid field and endless stars twinkling in the blackness of space.
The interior lights rose as he came further into the room, and Obi-Wan saw a cluster of round chairs hovering around a circular table in the center of the floor. He chose a seat nearest to the view and spun to face it, absently watching the asteroids tumble and spin in their eternal dance.

He began to meditate, determined more than ever to be restored fully to the Force. He focused on expanding his perception outwards, as he had done on the skiff, and felt ambiguous variations from the minds within the MedCenter. The heaviness he had sensed earlier permeated the air, and along with it was a flicker of anticipation. Something was approaching – an event that could shape the fate of the galaxy.
Obi-Wan pushed aside a fleeting desire to read into the future – he had seen firsthand what such knowledge did to a person's mind. Instead, he turned his awareness inward, examining the injury to his leg.
A healing trance was beyond his strength in the Force right now, but the Jedi Master coaxed his cells to work faster, repairing the damage to the bone.
And then he wondered what to do about Anakin.
Obi-Wan was somewhat persuaded that the young man's remorse was genuine – but it was clear to him that full conversion had not occurred until Anakin was cut off from the Force. The dark side was a poison, and should Anakin reestablish his connection that poison would once more course through his veins. It was still inside him, festering in the dark places of his heart. It might be beneficial for everyone, including Anakin, that he remain blinded to the energy field of life. He had decided to tell Anakin that the Force flowed through him again, and that he had sensed the Force Sensitive mind of one of his children.
Obi-Wan had had his fill of secrets.
From now on there would be only truth.

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"Jedi Skywalker."
Someone was shaking him. Anakin groaned at the interruption to his much-needed sleep and rolled away from the touch. "Jedi Skywalker." Again he was shaken, a little harder than before, and a muzzy sense of coherency slowly filled his mind. He became aware of the soft material of the blanket under his chin, the gentle swaying of the chair on which he was sitting, and a soft beeping noise that he had not heard earlier. And the voice still trying to rouse him – he knew to whom it belonged, but his sleep-fogged brain could not recall a name or face. He took in a deep breath and yawned, his eyelids grudgingly opening.
"Jedi Skywalker?" An empty white face hovered over him, staring with beady black eyes.

Anakin sat up with a start, his hand automatically diving for the place on his thigh where his lightsaber hung – and then his wits returned in a rush, slowing his pounding heart. Administrator Maneeli Tuun had jumped backwards from the young man, his hand half-raised from where it had rested on Anakin's arm. Anakin felt the tension drain from his body, and his blue gaze drifted to Padmé's slumbering form on the bed. Then he looked up at the Administrator ruefully, muttering, "I'm sorry. I should not have reacted that way – it was rude and unfair."
Though Tuun's expression was unable to change, Anakin noticed the rigid line of his shoulders relax. He replied quietly, "It is all right. With all that you and Master Kenobi has been through, I should have been more considerate in my method of awakening you." He kept at a respectful distance as Anakin lurched to his feet, stretching his arms high above his head. When he was settled, Tuun continued in a low voice, "I was making my rounds through the MedCenter and Master Kenobi asked me to bring you to him."
The dark tang of discord slithered into Anakin's thoughts. He pushed it aside as he asked, "Where is he?"
"A private conference room near my office. I will take you there in a moment." Tuun finished his explanation and turned to Padmé, retrieving a small datapad from the foot of her bed. Anakin tugged on a pair of slippers and followed the Administrator, watching him study the datapad and type occasionally.

He must have sensed Anakin's probing stare, for the Polis Massan moved slightly to show him the screen. "Everything looks very good. Her counts have stabilized, and the injury to her shoulder has healed by almost 35. And look here," Tuun expertly folded back the bedcovers and showed Anakin a small green light blinking steadily under the thin fabric of her gown, right by her hip.
"This is a contraction monitor. When it senses that her muscles have tightened in preparation for labor, the device will activate an alert system." Anakin stared at the tiny light, biting his lower lip. While he was incredibly thankful for all the attention they were giving his wife, he still could not escape the lingering disquiet seeping into the air. Tuun softly replaced the covers, oblivious to the young man's anxiety.
"Come," he said, heading for the door, "I will take you to Master Kenobi now."
"Can someone tell her where I am?" Anakin asked worriedly, looking at her peaceful face from where he stood by her bedside, vainly attempting to pull himself away.
"She will be told," Tuun reassured him gently. "But in a likelihood she will still be asleep by the time you return." He opened the door and gestured for Anakin to precede him into the corridor.

Throwing one last longing glance over his shoulder, Anakin walked outside, the familiar ache of separation squeezing tightly around his chest. He fell in step alongside the Administrator and tried to fix his mind on something else.
His missing lightsaber. He could get Artoo to search the skiff and bring it to him. Anakin inquired casually, "Where are our droids, C-3PO and R2-D2?"
The Administrator answered, "Master Kenobi had them sent to Maintenance. Both seemed quite at a loss as to what they were expected to do. Our droid technician is highly skilled and has been given explicit orders to limit his repairs to their exteriors." Anakin nodded, impressed in spite of the mounting friction between himself and his old friend. Obi-Wan had a far-seeing gaze; he thought five or ten steps ahead, while Anakin…he contented himself with one or two.
But a trip to Maintenance sounded promising. As much as he enjoyed being with Padmé, Anakin would go crazy if he sat in that room for hours, waiting for her to wake up. Perhaps the technician would let him borrow some tools so he could adjust his artificial arm.
Anakin straightened his right arm and held it out in front of him, flexing the black and gold digits as he eyed them critically. The response time for the middle finger seemed a millisecond off. He rotated his arm, listening to the servomotors, and made a mental note to lubricate the one operating the wrist.

Since that horrific day when he had lost his flesh and blood arm, Anakin had taught himself to see his cyber replacement as something better than what he had lost. He could manipulate the wires to make his arm carry more weight, bend in ways that a normal appendage could not, and withstand extreme temperatures. Yet whenever he brushed his hand over his wife's bare skin and saw cold metal against her body – disgust hollowed his stomach. Those moments made him wish that he had no arm at all.
Padmé paid no heed to his artificial limb. Indeed, she was far more accepting of it than he was.
However, they had not yet discussed how a metal arm would inhibit the care of two newborns. Anakin knew enough about babies to understand that their tiny bodies needed the gentlest touch. He supposed that he could always wear a gauntlet when holding one of the twins, and he also could tweak the circuits in his arm to ensure that their slight weight would not cause a power shortage. But he would not be able to hold them, completely, flesh to flesh. There would always be something that made him less human.

Choking off the dread that surged into his heart, Anakin was distracted by Tuun's curious glance at his extended arm. The gleaming metal flashed in the corridor lights as Anakin remarked, "I was thinking about making a trip to Maintenance myself after I speak with Obi-Wan."
Tuun asked compassionately, "Did it happen during the war?"
"At the beginning, on Geonosis. I saved my Master's life and jumped into a fight that I thought I could win." Anakin shook his head over his youthful arrogance. "As you can see, I lost more than the duel."
"I hope that whomever you fought was brought to justice."
Anakin looked away, his skin prickling as guilt poured hotly down his throat. Dooku's death had not brought him to justice, and it had not restored to Anakin what he had lost in that hangar on Geonosis. Death was an endless black cycle that had entrapped him for four years. He would not go back.

The Administrator broke into his tortured musings. "We have just received new research technology from a world beyond Wild Space with the potential to engineer a cybernetic replica of lost appendages."
Anakin looked over at him inquisitively. "The limb is still made up of artificial components, but it has the appearance of a flesh and blood limb. It has skin, warmth, and the sensors are infinitely more sophisticated than any droid's." Tuun paused and stared at Anakin, speaking with quiet sincerity. "I would be deeply honored if you would consent to be our first test subject."
Speechless, Anakin stood there in shock as Tuun grasped his artificial hand with both long-fingered hands and said earnestly, "We would construct the new limb to match your left arm. It will have the proper skin tone, the tiny sensory hairs, even fingernails."
"B-but," Anakin stuttered, struggling to comprehend something that was almost too good to be true, "But why would you choose me?"
"The process will be considerably simpler with human physiology, but I must tell you that it will be painful. The technology is experimental, and requires precise neurosurgery. Since you are a Jedi, and have already endured a cybernetic replacement, you are the best and most logical choice." He seemed so enthusiastic, and spoke as if he had just bestowed upon Anakin a priceless gift. And it was a gift – if this new arm did all the things Tuun said then Anakin would never have to wear a glove to conceal his metallic limb. He would never again feel self-loathing when he touched Padmé or their twins. He would be whole, on the outside anyway.

Anakin squared his shoulders and said determinedly, "When would this surgery take place?"
Tuun shook his hand and laid the other on his shoulder as he replied, "We would need some time to prepare, but it could be a early as tomorrow. The surgery will be lengthy, and you will have to remain conscious so that we can test if the nerve connections are working properly." Anakin barely resisted a shudder in remembrance. The surgery to implant his first droid arm had been excruciating. Only the Force and the memory of Padmé's softly whispered pledge had kept him from drowning in nonstop waves of pain.
He nodded. "I understand. I would like to have the surgery as soon as possible, so that my arm will be healed before the twins are born."
Tuun slowly released Anakin's hand and patted his shoulder warmly. "It will be a success – I know it. I will begin preparations at once, and the surgery will be scheduled for 0800." The Administrator turned sideways and swept an arm towards a corridor on the right. "Follow the hall to my office. It is the last door at the end of the hall. Through that door and the second one on the right you will find Master Kenobi."
His hand fell away from Anakin's shoulder and he strode toward the opposite hall.

Anakin spun and called hurriedly after him, "Don't tell Padmé about the surgery." A gleeful smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. "I want it to be a surprise." The Administrator waved in acknowledgement and continued on his way, and Anakin headed down the right-hand corridor towards the door at the end. Pressing his hand on it, as he had seen Tuun do numerous times, Anakin stepped inside the office, glancing around in mild curiosity until he spotted the second door on the right. It was open.
He inhaled deeply, promising himself that he would not sulk in like a criminal awaiting his sentence. Neither would he parade into the room as if he had done nothing wrong.
He simply started walking, only concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other as he crossed the threshold and saw the silhouette of his old Master against the backdrop of twirling asteroids.

------------

Obi-Wan sensed the whisper of movement at his side but remained focused on the view as Anakin settled into a chair. Peripherally, he glimpsed that the younger man was garbed in medical clothes as well, and was not wearing a glove over his mechanical arm. He looked impossibly young. Obi-Wan could see traces of the round-faced boy who raced Pods within Anakin's profile, softly illuminated by the starlight.
In that fleeting instant the last few days disappeared, and Anakin and Obi-Wan were The Team once again. Companionship and brotherly affection stirred in the air between them, and the Jedi Master let it warm him as it infused the Force. He realized that Anakin could not feel it – and like a heavy stone, the thought sank his buoyant spirit and pulled him back into the grey mists of the present.
Nevertheless, Obi-Wan murmured honestly, "I'm glad you came."
He meant it in more ways than one, and Anakin caught the innuendo, as Obi-Wan knew he would. "So am I," the young man remarked with equal candor, using the same layered inflection in his words.

Obi-Wan hazarded a brief glance at his old friend and saw the smile playing on his lips and the pensive gleam in his blue eyes. He's so young, Obi-Wan found himself musing again. He wondered why this particular truth had never crossed his mind before. Maybe because Anakin worked so hard to appear more mature in order to carry many responsibilities. Or maybe Obi-Wan just wanted to believe that Anakin's virtue had not been murdered by his plunge into the dark side.
The Jedi Master shoved aside his dark thoughts, asking softly, "How is Padmé?"
Anakin turned sideways in his seat, his expression shimmering with love and hope, and for a handful of seconds Obi-Wan did not recognize him. "She's doing fine. She's sleeping right now. Administrator Tuun says that her shoulder is healing, but the med droids have put a huge limit on her physical activity because of the risk of premature labor." Anakin's blue orbs twinkled happily. "The twins are fine, too." He leaned closer, practically jumping with excitement, and Obi-Wan looked at him in bemusement.
"Obi-Wan, I saw them. I saw my son and daughter before they are born. The med droids did this…ultrasound test on Padmé and I saw them on a display screen. It was the most…" He struggled to find the right word, and Obi-Wan felt a hint of joy tug at the corner of his mouth. "It was the most incredible, beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life."

Obi-Wan's amusement evaporated as he studied Anakin's beaming face. "You have no regrets, then." It was the wearily accepting statement of a man who still considered his only apprentice as his greatest failure.
Anakin looked away, his smile dissolving into a thin line of anger. He stifled the threatening eruption of his temper and glanced back at his old Master, his face wiped clean of emotion. "No – not about them. Or about Padmé. I will never regret the people that I love, Obi-Wan. Never."
Obi-Wan sighed, muttering under his breath, "I wouldn't expect you to." He sat up straight, the lines on his face settled into a well-used expression of authority, and decided to be entirely straightforward. "I can feel the Force again."
To say that Anakin was surprised would be a radical understatement. Blatant shock splashed across his handsome face, and his mouth opened and closed several times like a fish out of water. Obi-Wan would have laughed if their situation were not so dire. "Y-you…" Anakin spluttered, "What…?"
"It is nowhere near how it used to feel, but it is here." Obi-Wan continued speaking as if he had not heard Anakin's disbelieving words. "It was how I knew the twins were safe before you and Padmé felt them move on the ship. One of them reached out to me in the Force."

Now he had captured Anakin's full attention. The younger man rotated to fully face him, blue eyes igniting with intensity, silently urging the Jedi Master to resume his explanation. Obi-Wan said quietly, "The contact was very brief, and an undeveloped mind cannot communicate in ways that we can understand, but…" He thought of that tiny glimmer, and how it had darted around his mental touch, drawn to him – and yet somehow uncertain of him at the same time. "But I do think that the child was searching for you." As he spoke, his voice contained a note of surprise, as if he had just stumbled upon a revelation of great import. Obi-Wan's far-off gaze came back to his former Padawan, who was staring at him with a mixture of fatherly pride and wonder, and asked, "Have you used the Force to sense your children?"
"Yes," Anakin answered as though it were perfectly obvious. "I hadn't seen Padmé in five months, and she told me that babies can recognize their parents' voices from inside the womb." He shyly averted his gaze. "I was afraid that they wouldn't know me, and I wanted to know if they were – you know…" He trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
"You wanted to know if they were like you," Obi-Wan concluded grimly. "I should think that would have been a simple enough question to answer yourself, Anakin. You are the Chosen One, after all. The most powerful within the Order, next to Master Yoda."

"You don't understand," Anakin shook his head fervently, desperation in his eyes. "I don't want them to be like me." Obi-Wan leaned back, slate-colored eyes widening slightly. "I don't want them to carry this burden from the moment they are born. I don't want them to constantly look over their shoulders for a threat. I don't want them to make my mistakes." He slumped in his seat, head lowered as he finished sadly, "I want them to lead happy, normal lives." Anakin chanced a look at his old friend through the tousled locks of blond hair dangling in his eyes and saw the older man staring at him as if he did not know him. But it was not the same look he had given him yesterday on the veranda. This look held the same amount of surprise – but it also held traces of satisfaction and amusement.
He continued to look at him with that baffling expression for several minutes, until Anakin's impatience flared and he demanded, "What?"
An enigmatic grin brightened the Jedi Master's face. "You sound like a father." Anakin blinked at him, taken aback by his amused tone. Obi-Wan did not really understand what was happening himself.
All he knew was that as he sat there listening to Anakin's dreams for his children, he ceased to think of him as the betrayer, the enemy – and instead saw him as the young husband and father-to-be, and the best friend he thought was gone forever. Obi-Wan lightly slapped his thighs and stood, looking down at Anakin.

"And as a father, I called you here to let you know what precautions we are taking to ensure your family's safety." He grabbed a datapad from the table and handed it to Anakin, saying, "Thus far, Administrator Tuun and I have deleted all records of our conversation with Port Control and the computer logs of our arrival. We also removed all our names from the medical files and kept Padmé's under a pseudonym in case she gives birth. When and if that happens, the files will then be deleted and all data regarding the twins will vanish as well."
Anakin was staring at the datapad screen blankly, apparently lost in thought. "Anakin?"
Anakin glanced quickly up at Obi-Wan and replied throatily, "Thank you." Obi-Wan nodded, his expression softening, and strolled away from Anakin over to the transparisteel, watching the stars.
Anakin tossed the datapad onto the tabletop and came to his feet, following the older man to the viewport. The sensation that he was living within a dream had stayed with Anakin since the ultrasound, and now the feeling intensified as he stood side by side with a man he had once sworn to kill. He crossed his arms casually over his chest and asked quietly, "Do you think the Force will come back to me?"
Obi-Wan began fingering his beard – a clear sign that he was deeply ensconced in contemplation. "I honestly don't know, Anakin. Nothing like this has ever happened before – not in this way – and I have no idea how you did it in the first place."
"But you said it happened before?" Anakin was avid for more information, gazing at Obi-Wan with wide cobalt eyes that gleamed silver in the wan light. "When? Who?"

Obi-Wan inhaled a long, slow breath and recalled the ancient tale in his mind. "It is a long, sad story… But to summarize, there was a Jedi Knight long ago who fell to the dark side and in the midst of the great battle between him and the Jedi Order – he slew his younger brother. It grieved the man deeply, but his sorrow was not as strong as that of another Jedi – a woman who loved him. Witnessing the horror of the man she loved striking down his brother made something break inside her. In her mourning and rage, she used the Force to sever the man's link to his powers. She cut him off from the Force, and then he was no longer a threat. He teetered on the edge of sanity for many months, and eventually went into exile on a distant planet." He glanced sideways at his companion.
Anakin was motionless, his gaze fixed on the glittering stars. Then he inquired in a low voice, "Is that the end of the story?"
"No. As a matter of fact, the fallen Jedi found his redemption in a young girl – the daughter of the woman Jedi who had stolen the Force from him. She sought him out for training, and in so doing, found himself again. Unfortunately, he was shot by an ordinary cargo pilot wanting to be a hero, but after he died, his body faded from existence and his spirit was reclaimed by the Force."
"But he never could use the Force again."
"That is not known…but it is a valid point of view," Obi-Wan admitted quietly.
"What was his name?" Anakin asked timidly, like he almost did not want to know. Obi-Wan understood his reasoning. Names gave legends like the one he had just told power. Names allowed the imagination to shape a face, a personality, and make a legend more than just a story.
He replied, "Ulic Qel-Droma."

Silence blanketed the room for some time, each man examining his own thoughts like rare jewels, the facets twinkling at them as they turned them over in their heads.
Obi-Wan was uncertain of how to proceed without sounding like the sanctimonious teacher, and Anakin was wondering why he had even asked that question, especially when the answer created more questions.
Anakin broke the silence as he murmured to himself, "So I might never get the Force back."
"Perhaps it's for the best," Obi-Wan remarked, almost too softly for Anakin to hear, absently stroking his beard.
Anakin glanced sharply at him. "What do you mean?" He fired off the question like a laser blast.
His former Master sighed heavily and turned to look at him. "For the first time in your life, Anakin, you have balance. You have peace in your heart. And you and I both know that it is because of your separation from the Force – the dark and the light." He laid his hand on the young man's shoulder compassionately. "Can you honestly tell me that you want to go back to how you felt before?"
Anakin jerked away from his hand, blue eyes ablaze. "I'm different now," he growled.
"Are you?" Obi-Wan retorted bluntly. Anakin saw the unspoken words in his flinty blue-grey stare. Reckless, headstrong, impulsive. Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "You give your emotions too much power over you. Acting without thinking, following impulses blindly, letting your passions steer your course…" His eyes narrowed slightly as the shadows darkened Anakin's face, and challenged, "How are you different, Anakin?"

Anakin's cybernetic arm slashed the air between them in a cutting gesture. "Do not lecture me, Obi-Wan! I'm not your Padawan anymore! My emotions saved my life – or did you already forget?" In one long-legged stride, he stood toe to toe with the Jedi Master, glaring into his stern face. "I saw it in your eyes, Master." He used the title like an insult. "You were ready to kill me. You would have done it, too, if you hadn't seen the remorse eating me alive." He backed away a few steps, his voice a low rumble as he said, "It still eats at me. It gnaws on my bones every time I see you." Some of the anger faded from his fiery blue stare, but not from his tone as he bit out, "I can't change who I am."
Obi-Wan drew himself upright, ignoring the painful spasm in the leg as he countered, "Change the way you think, Anakin – how you respond to situations beyond your control. Are you able to reverse that while connected to the Force? The only reason you see clearly now is because you are blind to it! If the connection is restored the dark side will reach for you again – it haunts you even now. It will be easier to touch the next time, and the next, and the next – until you realize that you have lost everyone you have ever loved."
He echoed Anakin's own thoughts almost exactly. But it was difficult to hear them all the same. Anakin muttered bitterly, "I would fight it. I would fight it just like I have for thirteen years. Without the Force I can't protect my family. I told you yesterday – I made the only choice I thought that I had."
"You know better than that. Do not mask one excuse with another," Obi-Wan replied harshly, putting his hands on his hips.
Anakin's eyes sparked like kindling, and he jabbed a finger in Obi-Wan's face, snarling, "I thought I told you not to lecture me?"

"What's going on here?"
Both men whipped around to look towards the doorway. A petite woman with thick brown ringlets spilling over her shoulders and delicate features that did not disguise the fierce strength smoldering in her dark eyes consumed their attention as her hoverchair floated into the room. Padmé let her stare roam from one man to the other, perturbed by their silence. "What's going on here?" she repeated, hardening her tone. Anakin flinched just noticeably as her eyes came to rest on him. He nervously met her gaze, and then glanced swiftly over her body, assessing her condition. A soft white coverlet was draped over her belly, covering her legs, and a slender palm lay against the bulge as one cultured eyebrow rose expectantly.
"I thought you were sleeping," Anakin offered meekly, biting his lower lip.
"I woke up an hour ago. MD-02 told me where to find you, and said you were here with Obi-Wan." Her piercing stare transferred to the Jedi Master, and she asked, "What were you talking about?"

Obi-Wan felt trapped by Padmé's glare. He had never seen her like this before, but it must have happened in the past, or Anakin would not immediately quail under her gaze. He answered mildly, "Nothing of importance. Merely a philosophical debate, that's all." He tried on a smile. "I did relate to your husband earlier the steps that are being taken to keep us hidden from the Empire." He quickly leaned over and snatched the datapad Anakin had tossed aside from the table and held it out to her.
Padmé searched Obi-Wan's expression for a moment, her own face softening a little, but her eyes told him that she was not fooled as she grabbed the datapad and studied the screen. Obi-Wan glanced over her head at Anakin, feeling like a naughty child. The younger man was deliberately avoiding his look, and seeing the hand balled in a fist as his side told Obi-Wan that he was still inwardly seething from their argument.
Padmé announced in her Senator's voice, "This looks good. Although I suggest – Oh!" She broke off, hunching over slightly as both hands pressed against her stomach.

Anakin knelt before her in an instant, breath caught in his throat as he choked out, "What is it?"
She slowly sat up, rubbing her belly soothingly and gave him a tender smile. "I'm fine. One of them kicked me hard, right in the ribs."
Anakin placed his flesh hand over the swelling, the blanket shifting aside, and he saw the tiny green light blinking continually on her hip. Relief trickled down his spine. "Hey," he leaned closer, speaking to her stomach, "No more kicking Mommy, okay?" He flashed Padmé a lopsided grin and she laughed softly.
Obi-Wan politely cleared his throat, and Anakin sat back on his haunches, gently squeezing Padmé's hand before lurching to his feet. He turned to face his old friend, his ire leaking into his cerulean eyes as he said calmly, "I think we're done here, right, Obi-Wan? We've all had a long day, and Padmé needs her rest."
He swung around to the rear of her hoverchair, beginning to steer her towards the door.
As she opened her mouth to protest Anakin's ridiculous behavior, Obi-Wan called, "You need to think about what I said, Anakin. For your children's sake."

The leash barely restraining Anakin's temper snapped. He spun on heel and marched up to Obi-Wan, shouting, "I don't need to think about anything, Obi-Wan! Who are you to tell me how I should live my life, how I should take care of my family? Next I suppose you'll tell me how to love my wife!"
"Anakin!" Padmé cried in shock.
Obi-Wan was reaching the end of his patience. His chin rose, as did his voice to match Anakin's volume. "This is precisely what I was talking about! If you had the Force you would not hesitate to use it against me! Why can't you see that your anger is the deadliest weapon you possess?"
"I would never use it to hurt Padmé – or my children!"
"I don't believe you, Anakin!" Sadness mingled with the anger in Obi-Wan's eyes. "I can't believe you. Not anymore." Anakin's jaw clenched as he stared at the Jedi Master, the familiar flames of his rage licking the edges of his nerves.

"Enough!" Padmé moved her hoverchair directly in the middle of their shouting match and spoke in the icy, unyielding voice of a former Queen. "You will tell me what this is all about." Right away, she turned her brown eyes to her husband. "Anakin?"
His chest was heaving with suppressed fury, hands balled into fists at his sides. Ice-hot blue eyes glowered at the Jedi Master, and Padmé saw the corded muscles of his arms trembling as he fought against his darker tendencies. She hesitantly reached out and brushed her fingertips over his whitened knuckles. He jumped, and glanced down at her with widened eyes, almost like he had forgotten that she was present. His gaze softened just noticeably, and he took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. He held on with a surprisingly firm grip, like he was drawing strength from their physical connection.
Purging his tone of resentment, Anakin replied, "Obi-Wan told me that he can feel the Force again, and through it, he sensed one of the twins." Padmé's eyebrows rose to arch high on her forehead – clearly that was not the answer she had been expecting. Her dark eyes slid sideways to Obi-Wan for confirmation.
He nodded, saying quietly, "One of them reached out to me, very briefly, and I thought that perhaps they found me because they were looking for Anakin."
"But… How would the twins know how to do that?" Padmé was deeply confused. She was ignorant in many aspects of the Force, but she was fairly certain that a being required Jedi training before obtaining the knowledge to use the Force in such a way.
Apparently she was mistaken.

Anakin answered her. "Remember what I said to you earlier about our twins being very strong with the Force? This is a part of that. I touched their minds before with the Force, so they learned to recognize my essence." He saw the unspoken question in her gaze, and added, "I wasn't with you for five months, Padmé. I was afraid that when they were born, they wouldn't know that I'm their father." His eyes fell, and Padmé felt her heart turn over in sympathy. She tugged their intertwined fingers to her lips and laid a gentle kiss on his hand. He glanced up, giving her a sad, fleeting smile.
"All right…" Padmé said slowly, trying to put the pieces together so that she could understand, "So Obi-Wan can use the Force again, and from the nature of this conversation I assume that Anakin cannot."
Obi-Wan inclined his head in acquiescence while Anakin stated curtly, "And he thinks it should stay that way."
"Let's not have this argument again, Anakin," Obi-Wan muttered in a weary voice, eyes closing briefly. "You know my views on this subject. All I ask is that you give it some thought."
"And I told you that there's nothing to think about," Anakin retorted, some of his ire retreating from his tone as he felt his wife's slim fingers tighten slightly around his. "If there's a way for me to feel the Force again, I will find it."
"Without weighing the consequences?" Obi-Wan's normally tranquil blue-grey eyes flared with sudden intensity, and Padmé stared at him in astonishment. "You have not changed. Your desire for power may be founded upon selfless devotion, Anakin – but it is a desire nonetheless! That desire made you easy prey for Palpatine!"

Padmé watched her husband's face drain of all color, and then flush crimson with anger. "Ani, don't," she pleaded softly, clutching his hand in both of hers as he went to pull away. But he did not listen to her. Anakin wrenched his hand from her grip, bending her wrist painfully, and stalked up to Obi-Wan, his expression distorted by an enraged sneer. Padmé rubbed her aching wrist, a cold shiver slithering over her skin as she glimpsed Anakin's face. She had seen that look before, and she wanted nothing to do with that dark stranger lurking within the shadows of her husband's eyes. "Anakin…"
Obi-Wan saw the darkness invading the younger man's countenance, and against his better judgment continued ruthlessly, "What did he promise you, Anakin? The power to cheat death? And you believed him, didn't you? Of course you did, you had no reason to doubt him – he was your friend, after all. And I suppose what you did at the Jedi Temple was part of the agreement. Did you ever stop to think what else he would command you to do before he gave you what you wanted? Did you think that he would ever give you anything? And yet you have no regrets about the reason you fell." A small, weak voice in the back of his mind cried for him to be silent, but Obi-Wan allowed his grief and helpless rage spill over. "You never fooled me, Anakin. I knew – for a long time, I knew. And I held my tongue – do you want to know why? Because you were happy – she makes you happy, and I thought that she would give you the balance you so desperately need. And therein lies my mistake. You do not belong together, Anakin – do you understand that yet? What you feel for her," he jabbed a finger in Padmé's direction, "has made you vulnerable to the dark side!"

A small gasp escaped from Padmé's lips, her lovely face pale and washed with silvery light. But her reaction did not pain Obi-Wan as much as that of his old friend. Anakin's angry face was streaked with furious tears, blue eyes glaring with betrayal. His voice shook as he muttered through clenched teeth, "You will not…speak to…my wife like that. This…is…not…her fault!" In an act driven purely by instinctive rage, Anakin's fist slammed into the Jedi Master's jaw.
Obi-Wan, though he sensed impending danger, was lost in his own tortured emotions and turned his face just in time to see the blow before it sent him reeling backwards. He stumbled into a chair, his injured leg unable to support him, and he fell to the ground. His lightsaber, which had been tucked into the waistband of his pants, rolled across the floor and under the table, stopping near Anakin's right foot. The younger man did not notice as he stood over Obi-Wan, fists raised. "You have no idea what I've been through!" Anakin shouted, tears streaming down his cheeks, "You have no idea how hard it was for me to walk into the Temple that night, knowing what I had to do! I wanted to die afterwards, Obi-Wan! You can never understand what I feel – what I feel for her is so strong that I… I would die to save her! And that's what I did – I died. But you can't see that." He looked down, and saw the glimmer of a metallic cylinder lying near his feet. He bent and picked up the lightsaber in his artificial hand, holding the inactive weapon with casual grace. Padmé, who had been mute in shock, vision blurry with tears, saw what Anakin grasped in his hand. Her heart began thundering wildly against her ribs. "No. Oh no, Ani…" she breathed. She swallowed through a dry throat and said louder, "No, Anakin." She tried to steer the hoverchair closer, but a trio of chairs suddenly flew out from the table and blocked her way.

Obi-Wan slowly lowered his raised hand, sapped of his minimal Force energy, and he gazed up at Anakin with sad, watery eyes. "I think I understand now. But understanding does not change the fact that you are dangerous, Anakin – to yourself and to those whom you love, and who love you in return." He peered around Anakin's leg and saw Padmé's white face, her pleas for them to stop falling upon deaf ears.
Anakin's hand flexed around the hilt of Obi-Wan's lightsaber, the metal creaking slightly. His expression altered subtly, and Obi-Wan saw his opening. Swinging his uninjured leg in a roundhouse kick, he knocked Anakin's feet out from under him. The younger man landed with a dull thump, his breath escaping in a rush, and Obi-Wan made a lunge for the lightsaber.
Anakin found himself on the floor, momentarily dazed until a hand belonging to his old Master scrambled for the lightsaber. With a roar, he used the hilt as a club and sent it towards Obi-Wan's skull, waiting for the dull thud of impact. But the older man ducked at the last instant and jammed his elbow into Anakin's chin. His head fell back, and he lost his grip on the lightsaber, but he used the momentum to ram his heel into Obi-Wan's ribs. The Jedi Master cried out in pain, doubling over, and the weapon slid from his fingers. As they tussled on the floor, the cylinder rolled to a stop before a pair of white-clad feet.

"STOP IT!"
A powerful voice rang out. Blue light flared in the room, and the infamous snap-hiss filled the air, causing both combatants to freeze, stunned at the sight. Padmé towered over them, holding the blade in a two-handed grip, the indigo light illuminating her furious expression. Anakin and Obi-Wan sprang apart, staring at the young woman with wide, unsure eyes. Obi-Wan's lip was bleeding, and Anakin had a purplish bruise blossoming over the cleft in his chin. Padmé shifted her hands slightly, the blade humming as they watched her warily.
Pain suddenly thrust itself into Padmé's abdomen – so intense that she blacked out for an instant. She cried out, the lightsaber falling from limp fingers, deactivating as it hit the ground. Her arms instinctively encircled her belly as she doubled over, squeezing her eyes shut in a vain effort to block out the agony searing her muscles.
Anakin heard her scream and leapt to his feet as she tumbled to the floor, his toe kicking aside the now-forgotten lightsaber as he cradled Padmé in his arms. "Padmé? Padmé!" He called fearfully, stroking her cheeks as the wave of pain washed across her face. "What is it?" He asked urgently.
"It hurts…" she whimpered, eyes shut tight. "Oh…it hurts, Ani!" Sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead, and vestiges of his nightmare burst behind his pupils. "Anakin, help me!"
Anakin felt Obi-Wan kneel beside him, but whatever conflict existed between them had no standing now. All that mattered was Padmé.

Her eyes abruptly snapped open, nearly black with pain and fear, and she looked at him, whispering, "Oh, no." Padmé felt a warm gush of liquid, and Anakin looked down quickly, watching the puddle spread across the floor.
"What's happening? Padmé?" Fear was suffocating him, sucking the air from his lungs. "Padmé, what's happening?" She cried out again, her hands fisting on his shirt as her whole body tensed in his arms. And then she fell back, utterly spent, inhaling short little breaths.
In a fleeting moment of clarity, Anakin remembered the tiny device Administrator Tuun had shown him. Swiftly and gently, he rolled Padmé sideways and saw the tiny light blinking rapidly. It was no longer green, but a bright red.
And then it clicked.
Anakin hauled himself to his feet, Padmé locked securely in his arms, and told Obi-Wan in a voice that belied his raw terror, "We have to get her back to Maternity. I think she's in labor."