Chapter 41. Obi-Wan Kenobi

You gave birth to your own death.

— Euripides, Electra

There was barely time for my wave of shock to crest.

Cobalt lagoons remained fixated on my face, even as the sound of Obi-Wan's boots meeting the floor came ever nearer behind me. I sought at an obscure point of sight on wall, collecting myself just in time to neutralize my features before Obi-Wan came into view of them.

The keen-eyed Jedi Master looked back and forth between us once he came to a stop on the other side of Anakin's hospital bed. The occupant, at the moment, was staring again at the hand in his lap. It was not formed into a tight fist, but it wasn't exactly relaxed.

Despite the blank slate of my face, awkward tension was pungent in the air, and Kenobi had to have known he'd interrupted something. Before he could delve too long into his musings on what that might be, I rose my chin and met his eye plainly.

"I need to speak with you."

My words, or perhaps the directness of them, had been unexpected. Now Anakin was trading looks between the two people on either side of his bed.

Obi-Wan smiled lightly as he spread his arms wide before bringing them together in a low clasp. "I am at your disposal, Senator."

"Privately."

The bearded face was an unreadable mask at this, but Anakin noticeably reacted. His forehead was becoming that mountain range of folded skin I'd seen so much of since leaving behind the tranquility of Naboo.

Obi-Wan nodded once and extended an arm towards the door he'd just walked through. "After you, milady."

I hesitated. I didn't know for sure that once the coming conversation concluded, I would be able to deftly pass through Anakin's room again on my way back to The Credence. As such, I rebelled against wiser thought and sent him more of an emotional look than I'd normally dare to with an audience. In it, I relied upon our unspoken language to relay my misery of parting again so soon. I held dire hope in my heart that it would only be temporary. Aloud, I said, "I hope all goes well with the prosthetic attachment, Anakin."

He was staring at me, incredulous. Not for my comment, I imagine, but because I was leaving his side to quite obviously conference with his Master without him.

"What? Do I not rise to the level of security clearance?"

Obi-Wan frowned sternly as my own face fell. "No, Ani, it's not like that at all—"

"—I don't see why you can't just say whatever you hav—"

"That's enough, Anakin." Both of us froze at Obi-Wan's reprimanding tone. "Apologize to the Senator."

The cheeks of the admonished burned red. This was exactly the regressive scenario I knew Anakin would hate— being disciplined like the child he always wanted to prove he no longer was, and right in front of me no less. I wanted to urge that no apology was necessary; that I was as despondent to leave Anakin's side as he was to see me go, but at least I knew why I was leaving while he indeed did not. And that if Obi-Wan only knew the heat gauge of arguments Anakin and I had already peaked, he would realize this fleeting moment was nothing.

In the name of our preservation, even to the detriment of it, I kept my mouth closed.

Anakin broke eye contact quickly after reading my face, shifting it to the hand he was flexing in his lap. "Sorry, my lady," he mumbled softly. Dejectedly. He raised his right forearm. "And thanks."

This wasn't the atmosphere I wanted to part from him in at all, but I had no choice. Obi-Wan was still examining every note of our interaction. I set my face in a show of apathy and moved first for the door.

I never had— and never did— become accustomed to the molten heat of feeling Anakin's eyes on my back.

I didn't want to leave him, but his presence was a distraction in every way, and I'd taxied over to the hospital ship to get answers. And my own fondness for them aside, there were larger issues at hand in the galaxy than the whereabouts of a protocol droid and an astromech.

My new companion and I made polite conversation as he steered us out of the bay and down hallways he was more familiar with than I. It was faint, but there was a limp to his step as he still compensated for his left leg. We traded pleasant inquiries about the status of each other's injuries, how comfortable or not the beds had been, the odd experience inherent when every medical attendant who looks at you bears the same face as the last— making for near-comical confusion when you're trying to remember which conversation you had with which clone. It was all strategic chit chat to fill the air until we found a more private space.

Said space turned out to be a vacant examination room some hallway turns down from the bay. How fitting of a choice.

I appreciated that Obi-Wan seemed to understand that whatever conversation was coming, it required more than a quiet corridor. The pleasantries dropped as we found our marks, facing each other on opposite sides of the low, elongated table. He dipped his chin ever so subtly. It wasn't another, belated gesture of respect. Time-chasing chit chat was over. Our standoff had officially commenced.

Blue-green eyes searched mine. "I'm assuming you're here to talk to me about Anakin."

I prayed he didn't catch the way breath flew into my body in surprise. For a moment, my veneer stumbled. I hadn't expected him to start with any preconceptions, least of all this one. But purpose cemented my feet to the floor, similar to the staggering mortar used to build thousand-story high skyscrapers on Coruscant.

"No. I'm not."

My back somehow straightened even more. I felt tall.

"I am here as a Galactic Senator to talk to the leading investigator on recent moves made by the Separatists and the Republic." My voice was full and clear. I may as well have been speaking into the microphone built into my podium at the Senate Rotunda. "You were first on the ground to meet with the Kamino cloners. What did you discover during your investigations?"

There was a pause as he tilted his head downwards, calmly circumventing my energy to the floor like a muffling conduit. The overhead lights bounced of the coils of his long hair. "That their ground is…" Eyebrows peaked for just a half-second. "Very slippery."

I stared back at him in the unwanted silence. I couldn't fathom if he was being literal or metaphorical and was in no mood for what I interpreted as only more evasion. "Master Kenobi… I'm here to do more than name warships while my requests to the Jedi go unanswered. I haven't forgotten how you did everything you could to ignore my questions on that transport after we left the are—"

His eyes darted up to meet mine, defensiveness abruptly permeating through. "And I would not change my dismissive behavior on the transport, no matter how it might have bothered you." His face softened a tad. "Though, I regret that it had to."

"You admit you were purposely dodging my questions?"

His clipped accent was as full and clear as mine. "I do."

Indignation accelerated my pulse. "If my being a representative and a leader of the Loyalist Committee isn't enough, I think you forget the Kouhuns were sent to my apartment, and the explosion on that landing platform killed my staff by hitting my ship—"

"Senator Amidala, your ears were not the only ones on that transport."

Because he had become so intertwined with my instincts, my thoughts first confusedly zoomed to Anakin.

But why wouldn't he want his own Padawn to have overheard…?

Obi-Wan waited as I visibly worked this out in my expression. After a second more of pondering it, I begin to understand his meaning.

"The clones?"

There had been three of them in the gunship with us, not even counting the pilot and the two gunners.

Obi-Wan fluently began, "As you perceived during our flight, the clones were originally sourced by the bounty hunter who targeted you. His name was Jango Fett. When he was not fulfilling other— egregious— contracts, he was kept on Kamino. It is isolated planet, far beyond the Outer Rim." He crossed his arms over his chest, but seemingly pensively, not defiantly. "I am not aware of how much the troops know about their original host, but I imagine word travels fast, even in an army genetically modified to be obedient." At my resulting mystification, he continued, "Yes, I was rather taken aback to hear it too." He shrugged a single shoulder. "It did not feel like the time or place to inform our armed listeners that the man they've been sourced from had tried to kill you."

Frustration at Obi-Wan that had lingered for three days embarrassingly disbanded. I should have thought of this reasoning myself. "I see."

Obi-Wan nodded as if my admission had been an apology. Almost off-handedly, he added, "Nor did I think it wise for them to learn he was an enemy of the Republic."

"Was?"

"Jango Fett was killed in the arena."

On the night of the cruiser explosion, I comm'd with seven different families who'd been thrust into mourning. I'd vowed to them all that their loved one's murderer would be held accountable. Orchestrators Nute Gunray and Count Dooku were still at large, but the two operatives most directly responsible for the explosion were now no longer a threat. For diligence to my own personal beliefs, I had hoped for capture as opposed to more death, but it was for those ragged faces in my hologram calls that I finally breathed an exhale of closure.

Then exactly what he'd just said clicked into place between my ears.

"Do I have this absolutely correct, Master Kenobi, that the same bounty hunter who was aligned with the Separatists was the same man who sourced the clones now fighting for the Republic?"

It was a simpleton's question. The answer had been obvious for days. Obi-Wan obliged me, however, with an unfazed, "That is correct."

"And any answers he might have supplied as to how this came to be died with him on the arena floor?"

Obi-Wan didn't seem as dismayed by this as I would've assumed he'd be. "There are many leads to pursue, Senator."

"Answers to come in the future will not undo the actions of the past. How can we trust in soldiers who came to us so suspiciously?"

"I spoke with the Prime Minister of Kamino myself. He made it quite clear the clones were ordered and raised to fight for the Republic."

"Ordered by whom?"

"A name was given, but as I said, the Jedi are still investigating leads."

"On Tartoon?"

An eyebrow lifted, but he continued on as if I hadn't just admitted to eavesdropping on his comm with Master Windu. "I can tell you he was not a Separatist."

"Will this individual be brought before the Senate to explain his unsanctioned commissioning of the clones?" It was a mostly rhetorical question. I wanted to start arranging this mysterious man's travel to Coruscant that very hour.

"No, I'm sorry to say that will not be possible." He saw my outrage rising and was quick to try to preempt it. "He, too, is dead."

My vexation only grew. "Did he die during the course of your investigation?"

"No, he was killed some ten years before."

I learned years ago, before I'd elevated to the position of Queen, how to hide the impulse to lean my weight on one foot, cross my arms, and deliver a cross stare. My mother nipped it out of me long before my mentors could. But just because one knows how to quash an impulse does not mean it forever disappears. "Master Kenobi, it seems every question I submit to you leads to more questions."

"Senator Amidala," Obi-Wan replied, with a sincere regard. "I can tell you truthfully that dedicated investigations are ongoing. I urge you not to jump to conclusions. Jango Fett was recruited as a host for the Kaminoans a full decade prior to the attacks against you. He was a formidable fighter who seemed to accept a spectrum of financial offers. I know how it looks, but given the many years in between, we cannot yet rule out that his recruitment into your assassination plot is but a stunning coincidence."

I willfully fixed him with an exasperated look. "Surely, the galaxy isn't that small."

"When he spoke of the man who recruited him on a Bogden moon, he named someone apart from Count Dooku. Fett was a man of secrets, obviously, but in this I sensed he was telling the truth."

"What name did he give you?"

Obi-Wan rocked slightly on his heels. There was a small "tsk" motion to the movement of his head. "The Jedi must be allowed to conduct their investigations covertly, milady."

If he thought this remark would placate me, he was wrong. "I was entrusted by my people to represent them to the best of my abilities. And yet, I'm trying to make our Republic appear strong at the conference table with one arm tied behind my back. I can't even explain where this fortuitous army came from. There are serious gaps of information I'm unable to fill— gaps the Jedi seem aimed to refuse to help me with."

One hand came up to calmly stroke his beard. "Precisely what holes are halting your efforts?"

Authority enlivened me again. "There's a state-of-the-art BioTech lab aboard this hospital ship, about to equip your apprentice with a new arm. There are robes in the brand new hospital rooms that would fetch a fortune on Coruscant. Even my slippers were some of the finest quality I've ever seen. Cruisers, clones, assault transports— obvious investments. But no expense seemed have been spared— even my stateroom on The Credence would humble a Hutt."

"Your discernment does you credit, Senator. Not much misses your eye."

"I can't help but wonder on whose credit such extravagant accommodations were ordered."

Amazingly, a smile teased his lips. "Well. If you were to ever meet the Kaminoans, I think their appreciation for an elegant style of life would come across quite clearly."

"Perfect, I would love to meet them. How soon can that be arranged?"

Obi-Wan straightened with his first sign of underlying discomfort. "I believe the veil has dropped on that end. At last report, they had a million more clone units on the way. I imagine the Senate will be in full communication with them soon to take delivery."

Take delivery. It was almost as if we weren't taking about human beings.

But Obi-Wan must've seen my unease comes across on my face. He now smiled timidly, apologetically. "I know. It will take some getting used to, for me as well."

"And the artillery they arrived with? The transports? The brand new assault cruisers?"

"Part of the contract that was drawn up ten years ago. The Kaminoans outsourced most of the construction to third parties. Rothana Heavy Engineering seems to have been their main supplier, but not their only one. We're still tracking down leads."

Between the brush offs I'd received over the past two days and my conversation with Obi-Wan now, I began to realize I could amass a tally on how many times I'd been told the Jedi were pursuing leads. As the man opposite watched me passively, awareness gradually dawned.

I had been so sure the Jedi were avoiding my requests for briefings because they did not want to share their information. Now, I fully realized, it was because they did not have answers to give. They couldn't explain this clone army or its miraculous timing— not just for our rescue on Geonosis, but for the war itself— either. Not only was this never something I would've assumed of the Jedi Order over matters so critical, but it was far more unsettling than the idea that they were only ignoring an irksome Senator.

Obi-Wan had no inkling as to the mood my thoughts had taken, yet ironically said, "Milady, I do not speak on behalf of the Council. I would never presume to. But I believe they would agree if I asked you, for the time being, to keep our conversation confidential. With war breaking out, the last thing we need is a crisis of confidence among the populace in regard to the Order. There are a great many pieces to put together and the Jedi do not like the appearance of being in the dark."

I looked back at him with a stare Anakin might claim would scare a wookie across a dejarik table. The volume and tone of my voice was quiet; low. "It seems it would be an error to say it is only an appearance."

In the resulting silence, the tension in the room palpably rose. Obi-Wan regarded me coolly. "To repeat, Senator, there are multiple leads to pursue." His demeanor faltered for just a moment, but long enough for my sharp eyes to see. "And we suffered severe casualties on Geonosis. There are practicalities to this loss which are being addressed as we speak."

As our gazes held, I swallowed back an increasing rise in shame. I had been putting everything on the shoulders of the Jedi at their most desperate hour. I reminded myself the Order and I were on the same side.

"Master Jedi," I paused to convey my hope to shift our tone, "I do recognize that you alone were assigned to investigate the attacks against my life and, in doing so, stumbled across something far greater than disgruntled spice miners. You had limited time to unravel this thread before you were captured for those efforts." The last of my frustration faded out. "I apologize if I have come across as… brash."

He smiled softly at me and shook his head. "Not at all, Senator. You want answers. I can respect that."

"What now?"

His eyebrows pinched in. I'd managed to puzzle him. "Milady?"

"Does the Republic blindly accept an army even though we do not know who ordered it, why they ordered it, why these clones have been hidden away for ten years, or that they were modeled after a man who was enlisted by the leader of the Separatists, and that almost everyone who can answer these questions is either dead or against us?"

My questions hung in the air with their own mood of rhetorical uncertainty. I was asking him something far, far beyond his jurisdiction to rule upon. Obi-Wan Kenobi did not speak single-handedly for his Order any more than I did for the entire Senate. Even if he were to speak with the gravitas and authority of Master Yoda, it still would not put the decision solely in his hands. That wasn't how democracies worked.

A warning chill passed through me as I realized who did now speak for the entire Senate and Jedi Order on this matter. And Palpatine had already made his decision known.

For the moment, I forced myself to put aside that such a reality meant we were heading towards being a democracy in name only. A dangerous slope. Instead, I asked my counterpart in a pillar institution of our Republic yet one more incomprehensible question.

"What happens if all this is not a stunning coincidence?"

Obi-Wan touched the edge of his beard between his finger and thumb, resting the elbow on the flat plane of his other arm. "I believe, Senator," he answered, with an encouraging trace of optimism. "That if this was a trick by those who would undermine us, it was very poorly planned. They outfitted the Republic with a trained and equipped army ready to fight just when we needed them. We owe our victorious ending to the day to the clones. Not for the last time, I'd presume." He tilted his head slightly. "I imagine we will be grateful for them in the months ahead."

His hope only served to weigh me down. "You speak as if you see war as the only recourse. Is the diplomatic route so easily discarded?"

There was an exhibit of compassion— the pure, straightforward kind, not Anakin's layered and deliciously debilitating style of it— on his face. "For the time being, I think we must accept that negotiation discussions are on hold, apart from the brand settled on battlefields."

A former wartime Queen from a pacifist planet gazed back at him solemnly. "That is something I cannot do."

There was a long moment as we regarded each other, though I can't say what thoughts were coursing in his own head. Eventually, Obi-Wan placed his arms at his sides. "We met during a very…" he paused. Blink and one would've missed it, but there was a flash of a vulnerability in his gaze. "A very important and transitional time in both of our lives, milady. I would like to think such a shared event means we have an understanding… that we can trust in one another."

I matched his solemnity. "We can."

I genuinely don't think he meant to bait me. But my answer was a nice segue for him, nevertheless.

"I'm sure you're ready to get back to Coruscant. Your attendance at the service last night was appreciated. However, now that the ceremony is completed and our investigations on the planet are near finished, an initial party of ships is making ready to depart for the capital. We can have your belongings stowed and have you and your ship transported to a departing cruiser within the hour."

I blinked. This was news to me. "Transported to another ship? What is to happen to The Credence?"

"My understanding is that The Credence and others of the fleet will continue to provide service for those on the ground for another day before following in kind to Coruscant."

"Are any Jedi staying behind?"

There was a short hesitation before his otherwise smooth reply. "Only two."

That's when I realized we had transitioned into talking about Anakin without actually bringing him up. Master Kenobi was trying to separate me from his Padawan.

Daringly, I shed light where he obviously preferred the clandestine dark. "Why are you and Anakin staying?"

The easy look he'd had before melted away before my eyes. "His prosthetic. It will be attached as soon as the BioTech lab has finished constructing it, but unfortunately, that will not be in time for me and Anakin to catch the contingent leaving for Coruscant. The Council and the others are scheduled to depart in a few hours."

"I was under the impression attaching the arm to the base itself is a relatively—" I flinched, unable to effortlessly say the words, knowing the emotional undertaking the event was for Anakin, "—simple procedure."

"The synchronization between him and the arm is untested. With the hospital ship staying behind to support the ground forces, the technicians would prefer to keep him close until he assimilates to it— and the arm to him."

I nodded, understanding. "Naturally." I met his eye more warmly. "It's admirable that you don't wish to leave your Padawan's side during his adjustment."

Obi-Wan held his hands low in front. "I don't say this to sound dismissive over his injury— physical or otherwise— but… I believe Anakin will come round to the prosthetic sooner than anyone thinks. Whatever mechano-arm he receives, he's bound to upgrade it well beyond its factory capabilities. There isn't a device made of alloy and wires he can't improve."

His tone said one thing, but his eyes clearly said another. They shone with fatherly pride. It was such a shame he felt the need to mask it under an insincere display of annoyance.

"I would like to stay behind until the second departure."

It wasn't until the awkward silence continued to stretch that I understood he was waiting for my why. If it was a matter of state, I would be under no obligation to supply him a reason. But the Republic was pointed in the other direction. It sat waiting for my attention several lightyears away.

And yet leaving Anakin so soon was out of the question, and absolutely not like this— not after that last moment at his bedside. And not when he was about to go through something so emotionally transforming as a receiving a mechanical arm.

And then, like a starburst, the solution came to me. "I am waiting for my droids to be found."

"I beg your pardon?"

"C-3PO and R2-D2. You'll remember Artoo from my apartment, and perhaps from the Battle of Naboo ten years ago. He's been by my side ever since."

"You only departed Coruscant with the one droid, milady; I watched you leave with him. Where did you pick up another?"

"He's a protocol droid," I replied, clumsily evading the question as I stalled to think of an answer. He waited. A sixth sense picked up from my career warned me this was a trap. A lie of Naboo would only trip the snare. "Tatooine."

His shoulders relaxed. I'd passed whatever test he'd just laid out for me. "I know of Threepio," he remarked with a nod. "I've heard about him from my Padawan, of course. He's spoken of the droid he'd built and left behind quite a lot, especially in the first year of his apprenticeship."

That meant Obi-Wan already knew by his first mentioning that Threepio came from Tatooine. Where we must've been. Where Anakin's mother must've been.

I looked back at him simply. "He belongs to me now."

"A great many droids were destroyed in the battle, Senator."

"Something tells me this one abhors conflict and would've wanted to stay as far away from it as possible."

Obi-Wan shrugged nonchalantly, as if he'd settled on an easy fix. "Very well. I can personally see to it that they are returned to you on Coruscant after they are found."

"I could never and will not ask a Jedi Master— who has recently done the Republic and myself so much service— to divert his attention to the location of two droids."

"But it is worth the time and presence of a Galactic Senator? Especially now?"

Well played.

I smiled amiably. Some offenses work better when you remove the tip of a spear and blunt it with charm. "With all due respect, Master Kenobi, that astromech is about as symbolically important to the people of Naboo as I am. I can't go back without him." I was exaggerating Artoo's fame to the Naboo, but not by much. He'd earned a reputation after being the sole surviving astromech to save the royal yacht when we ran the blockade. Astromech engineers across the sector even started mimicking his model specifications. "Just as importantly, he's very dear to my young nieces. They're often more excited to see him when I visit. What kind of aunt would I be if I left him behind?"

"Sounds like one with less competition in the eyes of your nieces."

I didn't need to worry about the limits of love shared between myself, Ryoo, and Pooja. Tempting fate, I pushed more firmly, "He saved your life that day too, when we ran the blockade. As long as there is a Republic ship left in Geonosian orbit, I'm not leaving until he's found. I'm sure you can understand."

His expression assured that he did not. "The Jedi don't practice in attachment, especially to droids. Why, my own astromech, R4, was with me when the droidekas attacked—"

"Has your astromech been recovered?"

"She has. But that's different."

"How?"

"She's quite literally built into my ship, milady. She cannot leave it." He bent forward a little at the waist, a somewhat condescending movement I did not appreciate. It immediately reminded me of the time his former Master looked at me in the same fashion outside Watto's shop during a disagreement. "And my ship, like yours, has been recovered." He straightened. "My offer stands. I would be happy to arrange your move once more and see you comfortably lodged on a vessel soon bound for Coruscant. I will secure your droids to follow, whether they continue to operate or have been regrettably blasted into decommission."

…Once more?

I scrutinized his face. He gave away nothing. Perhaps he didn't realize he'd already slipped.

"You moved me from the hospital ship to the cruiser."

Another silence passed between us. This time, we regarded each other much less deferentially than in the previous hiatus.

He ultimately shrugged casually. "You required new accommodations."

"There are cabins on board this ship."

"One which befitted your prestigious position."

"I am still wearing bandages, Master Jedi."

"And is the medical wing of The Credence not meeting your needs?"

I stared back mutely. He knew it was, otherwise he never would've moved me off the hospital ship, no matter what his goals were.

He nodded, accepting my silence as confirmation. "When I heard you were out of bed making late night comm calls on the bridge, I simply assumed you were anxious to get back to work."

I froze, dread flashing down my spine before I quickly reminded myself to breathe. The bridge of the ship was a public place, no matter the hour I'd charged in there to comm Jar Jar. Just because Obi-Wan somehow learned I'd ventured there didn't automatically mean he knew I'd been sitting with Anakin for hours by his bacta tank first.

"I understand you don't practice in attachments, Master Kenobi." I eyed him without apprehension. My voice dipped a few decibels lower than its normal tone. "But I am not a Jedi." I wasn't asking for his permission to stay behind— I didn't need it, and it was high time he remembered this. "I will remain with the fleet until the second contingent finishes their extraction and departs for Coruscant."

I expected Obi-Wan to continue to offer pushback. He certainly looked tempted to. Instead, he took several breaths, eyeing me before he muttered with growing confidence, "Perhaps, while you remain, you could have a conversation with Anakin— the kind a Galactic Senator ought to have with him."

I instantly wanted to go back to debating over whether or not the Republic was in jeopardy.

"I don't understand."

His face communicated plainly that he knew that wasn't true. He crossed his arms over his chest again. "He's been restless with wanting to see you. It has distracted him from his recovery efforts. From what I have observed, a conversation needs to be held reminding him of where his priorities lie and where they no longer should." Obi-Wan's chin dipped as he gazed at me with urgency. "I think you are the one who will get through to him best, in this particular regard."

I scrambled for an innocent explanation while trying to keep my face and heartbeat calm. "Master Kenobi, I am the first person Anakin has ever had the solo assignment to protect. I think a little difficulty in letting go comes with the territory, wouldn't it? At least for his first protection detail on his own?"

I was way out of my league here, trying to assume Jedi moods and patterns to a life-long practitioner. However, Obi-Wan seemed to think over my words more deeply than I would expect. Very thoughtfully, he replied, "You have a point, Senator Amidala. It is not unknown for… attachments to form during high-stress scenarios, when younger Jedi are assigned to protect in isolation." His eyes flickered, but then hid their story before I had a chance to read it. "The attachments may even go both ways."

I was sure we were caught. Somewhere between what he'd witnessed in the arena and my failed attempts to disguise my feelings in this room, Obi-Wan knew. I lost the tenuous hold I had on my mask for a second and opened my mouth to speak, but I only began to sputter breath.

"No, no, I don't mean to offend with any implication," Obi-Wan rushed, completely misinterpreting my reaction. Only when I saw the apologetic look on his features did I slam my mouth shut into a perfect horizon, playing the part of the startled Senator who would never put a toe out of line. "It's only that… In such extreme situations, emotions can rise to levels they normally would not. A byproduct of the dramatic frenzy, if you will." He visibly hesitated, but then continued, "My Padawan has had a journey unlike other Jedi. His slavery, his lingering attachment to his mother… And he is… Anakin is very important to the Order."

I dared to roll my dry lips under one another to moisten them again. Fear was snaking its way through me, tensing my shoulders and seizing my brain's functioning. I knew I could not fail to choose my words expertly.

My tone was even more serious than his. "I know how important Anakin is to the Jedi, Master Kenobi."

His eyebrows twitched at this before settling into more of a concentrated frown. "You do?"

I was just about to explain that Anakin had informed me of the Chosen One prophecy, then a rush of better wisdom thought better of it. I wasn't sure, but I doubted the information was widely known outside or even broadly within the Order. Anakin had shared it with me as a milestone act of vulnerability before going further to offer his entire heart and soul. Such a sacred moment, however much it still weighed on our prospects, was not something I could let backfire in this room. Revealing that Anakin told me would be evidence for our closeness far less than it would assuage Obi-Wan to believe the opposite. I could not give him more reason to fret over the depth of my and Anakin's bond.

"Of course," I let a smile draw my lips up. "I was there when he won the Boonta Eve Classic. Anyone who watched a nine-year-old accomplish such a feat couldn't forget that he's a very special boy."

I'd used the last word specifically to put distance between me and Anakin in Obi-Wan's eyes— or rather, to imply a distance I wanted him to perceive I felt.

He seemed to relax a fraction; I knew I'd ultimately made the right choice. He inhaled a deep breath, then began with a lighter air, "Anakin and I are to be moved to The Credence tomorrow morning." His eyes scrutinized mine for just a moment, checking to see if I had any reaction to his Padawan being moved to the very same ship Kenobi had just tried to kick me off of. But I was well settled into my mask again now, and I hinted at nothing. "I can arrange for you to talk with him privately after he's aboard."

"He's not staying here? I thought the whole purpose of him remaining behind was to be in the hospital ship with the prosthetic technicians?"

A brisk shake of the head. "No, his lead medic believes he's spent enough days here. He, ah, well… he thinks a shift back into social atmospheres will improve Anakin's spirits. I understand The Credence has more than enough passengers aboard to refill that need."

I thought of the long bay Anakin's bed sat in the middle of. How loud the sound of a single pair of boots walking across the polished floor had been. So many empty mattresses. Even Obi-Wan, it seemed fair to guess, had moved into one of the individual cabins on board the hospital ship. I had to quickly hide my heart's pang for the loneliness Ani must have continued to feel as every other Jedi patient around him was discharged and he was left more and more by himself.

Even if Anakin was moved to one of the hospital ship's cabins, with the remaining Jedi apparently leaving in just a few hours, there would be no one left apart from the monotony of the clones' faces. And, of course, his Master.

Obi-Wan was still explaining the order of events. "He will have his prosthetic attached soon, and then he will need time for observation and basic therapy, but he will be discharged and moved to The Credence by morning to continue his progress there. I will ensure that you both have space and privacy to talk one last time." He gave me some mixture of a smile blended with a grimace. "No one need overhear matters which should not be overheard."

Now I fought to stymie a tide of relief. Completely authentic, I nodded back at him and replied, "I completely agree. And I appreciate you providing this chance for me to speak with him—" here, my authenticity veered into its own mixed ground, "— as you said, as a Senator should."

We dipped our heads at one another respectfully, essentially ending the conversation. I was still not exactly sure what Obi-Wan did and did not know. But he was placing the severance of my relationship with Anakin in my hands, which meant he trusted in one of two scenarios. Either he believed my feelings did not run as deeply as Anakin's, and thus could be relied upon to bring whatever had developed to an end, or— his ideal scenario— I did not have feelings like Anakin's at all, yet I was still in the unique position to fatally stop what I must be surely aware of.

These must be the only plausible explanations. For if Obi-Wan Kenobi truly grasped how passionately strong my feelings were, he never would've sent me into Anakin's cabin alone.