(Notes at the end of chapter)
Chapter 6
Jedi Master Kenobi shifted through countless databases of known criminals within the Jedi Archives. He had been doing this since returning to Coruscant with Senator Amidala in critical condition. Obi-Wan remained at the Temple while the Council agreed to have the Senator and infants personally guarded by an Order member. The Negotiator made Skywalker their shining candidate, which was a necessity, because Anakin refused to leave Padme and her, and most likely his, infants. He rung his beard with that thought and released a long suffering sigh.
Since the victim was in an induced coma, there was not much to go on. The security Galactic Republic Senate Capital's footage was conveniently unretrievable. Whoever did this was skilled and powerful. He suspected Cad Bane; he had successfully infiltrated not only the Senate Building, but the Jedi Temple as well. He was more than capable of this, and the only one near qualified.
Separatists received the Senator in orbit of Coruscant. The fleet used was massive; the Republic did not know they still had such forces at their control. There was a brief distraction of a skirmish, but the objective was the Senator. Apparently other members of the Senate, including the Chancellor, were targeted. All the other attempts failed. However, compared to Amidala's abduction and complexity, the other attempts seemed like red burra fishes.
It was quite bizarre.
Why was Senator Amidala the primary focus?
Indeed, she was a powerful political player. She often championed bills seen as impossible to pass. Also, she could sway the senate like no other voice- even the Chancellor's. But this did not seem politically motivated. Not at all.
Her abductor(s) were focused on her pregnancy, on her unborn infants. From what Kenobi gathered, there was preparation for two infants at the site they rescued the Senator from. An unusual detail because not even Padmè knew that. Amidala was not public with her pregnancy, either. Her garments and restricted circle of beings in her life were used to keep her pregnancy a secret.
If Master Kenobi's hypothesis was correct, having Anakin be the biological father would call for a hidden gestation. For that was the only reason he could find logical. Naboo's culture was positive towards single motherhood, suragacy, non-marital partnerships, polygamy usually of a female with multiple lovers, casual sexual relations, all sexualities, and bodily autonomy. The Senator had no need to hide or keep a pregnancy, the gender and identity of partner(s), or anything of that nature. Which made it puzzling for the secrecy. While Padme was a private person, Nubian pregnant people do not keep pregnancies private. They were all the same clothing styles, and are as valued and supported as those who choose not to carry pregnancy to term, who carry for others, or not have offspring at all. Childbearing was often a celebrated time, not a time of secrecy.
Ergo, Kenobi believed it was due to the galactic culture of being with a Jedi. Of willingly and full knowingly having offspring with a Jedi, something completely forbidden. Unless there were extreme circumstances, like Master Ka Umunduli fathering younglings due to his species being near extinction.
The fact that the abductors knew of the Senator's pregnancy, and that there were twins, was quite puzzling to Obi-Wan.
Kenobi searched through known Bane affiliates and connections, but no one felt right. The fact that the bounty hunter continued to outwit and escape the Jedi frustrated most of the Council, including Kenobi and Master Mace Windu. They had him, and yet he got away.
Kenobi felt personally responsible for what happened to his dear friend from Naboo. If he had managed to apprehend Bane, his friend may not be fighting for her life.
Kenobi banished those feelings, they were certainly not helpful to the Senator now. Forward was the only option.
Beep, beep, beep.
"Kenobi speaking," he answered.
"Hello Master," a tired voice replied. The worn voice of a good friend.
"Anakin? What's happened?" he worriedly replied. The Jedi Knight had been sending messages through his droid, R2-D2. He had not contacted anyone in person since being assigned to be the Senator's bodyguard.
"We've gotten a step closer to figuring out what's ailing, Padme. She's in a bacta tank now that effectively treats a part of the infection," Skywalker said evenly.
Kenobi's tense muscles relaxed. "That's good to hear. Do they expect her to be conscious soon?"
There was a pregnant pause. "No, no they don't. Not yet," he friend heavily responded.
Blasts.
"I wanted to request an audience with the Council, I have an idea on how to treat Amidala. But I need the permission of the Order."
A glint met the Master's eye. "Oh? What do you have in mind?"
"A large part of what the Senator suffers from is midi-chlorian in origin. I believe the Hall of Healing healers should attempt to treat Padme."
"Midi-chlorian related? I've never heard of anything like that before- ever." Kenobi pondered.
"I have the data to prove it," Skywalker sharply defended.
His response took Obi-Wan off guard. "I'm on your side, Anakin. Both you and Padme's. I've just never heard of anything like this," he offered hoping to quell his friend.
There was another pause, and a sigh, "My apologies, Master. I'm rather on edge recently. I greatly value your support. I know Padme does, too."
Kenobi had much to say. "Of course, friend," there was an odd stop in his speaking. He felt more should be added, especially with the all but confirmed distance and secrets between them. "I'll always support you," he added earnestly, hoping his former padawan felt the intention behind his words. Kenobi feared a pause, and continued speaking. "I'll make the request to the Council. I'll comm. you when the meeting is to commence."
Skywalker took a bit longer than usual to respond. "Until then."
"Kenobi out," and the Master ended the conversation. He got up and headed to the Council's room. This may be one of the easiest decisions the Council can make.
Hospitals were so taxing. Even in such a regal and accommodating one, the energy drained from watching a loved one suffer was swift and constant. Skywalker was putting massive amounts of energy into obtaining basic necessities: eating, sleeping, hygiene, exercises, meditation, but Force he was still doing it.
Padme had been moved to a bacta-tank in the medical laboratory and treatment area behind her luxurious hospital bed. The healthcare team allowed him in a few times a day. It was agonizing to see her pale form floating in the customized bacta. Her body curled into a fetal position; doctor Trevok Jarhade said that was normal, given her vulnerable state. He mentioned something about protecting main organs. All Anakin saw was how much smaller she looked. How frail and vulnerable.
Dr. Abipadal had been meeting with him daily, sometimes a few times a day. She had prescribed medications for sleep, different from what Dr. Brye had prescribed. Skywalker was uncomfortable with the idea of being hard to wake or drugged heavily, so there was a mild sedative to help encourage sleep, but not dull senses. He had been using it every night, along with some non-pharmaceutical routines with teas, not researching in the room prepared for him in the suite, some vitamins, and spending time in the droid workshop set up in one of the rooms. A personal gym was also installed, and that had been nice to break a sweat and distract himself while Padme remained in the lab.
When he was not forcing a meal down, staying busy, or with his therapist, he was with the twins.
His stars.
Anakim constantly kept them within eyesight. His room had two bassinets set up, a rocking chair, and baby essentials. That way he could actually sleep in a bed, which was a relief to his spine.
In his rapidly growing skills of newborn care, he has recently learned how to bathe the twins. After having done it a few times, his anxiety about doing it decreased heavily. He was not a master, by any means, but he felt adequate enough. Skywalker crammed in as much infant knowledge and infant care as possible in between helping Padme's medical team, actively caring for the twins, and mechanically tending his bare and basic routine. His supernatural memory and determination helped greatly.
Currently, he dozed while holding a calming Luke while "Leia" slept in a bassinet. He held his youngling's small body against his exposed chest for skin to skin contact. Even while on his Ventor-class cruiser, he had the instinct to cuddle his treasures to his chest and skin. It soothed the twins, it soothed him. Then he learned once on Coruscant about the importance of this "technique" for many species, including humans.
He could not believe that he went from ten standard months battling endless Outer Rim Battles, to being a father of twins within a few hours. There was so much he had to learn, so much he had to carry for them. He was loving them for Padme, as well. Waiting for her to awaken and love them consciously.
Skywalker did not mind the diapers, late night feedings, the bathing, the holding, and being essentially inseparable from his children due to their needs. If…no- when Padme woke up again, his involvement in their care would not change.
What he could not stand was that she was not getting to love them. It was breaking his heart.
It was impossible for him to replace her space as their parent and mother.
Their little lives were lacking his beloved, and it was sorely felt.
When they cried and cried, something rare with his keen awareness of their needs via the Force, he felt in his heart it was because they needed her. He would cry with them; he needed her, too.
He pleaded with the Force that the Temple Healers could help.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Skywalker's head snapped to the alerting communicator. Cautiously smooshing his chin into his neck to watch his son, he activated the comm. "Skywalker here," he spoke softly.
"Anakin, the Council is ready to discuss the healers assisting Senator Amidala. I'm on my way now to the meeting," Master Kenobi informed.
"Understood. I'll be ready in a moment; I have to find a way to get Luke into his crib without disturbing him," he informed worried about this mission. Compared to Leia, Luke was fussier and needier. Seemed he could live with cuddles and snuggles alone; he hated being alone. Something Anakin could understand.
He transferred his newborn with help from telekinetic abilities. The General's execution of this was as though he were transferring an active bomb on a battlefield.
It worked, though.
Skywalker dressed and wrapped his tunics and got into position for the hologram. Around him the Council's miniature, blue three-dimensional circle of seated members surrounded him.
"Council," he greeted with a respectful bow.
"Request for permission, you have?" Grand Master Yoda queeried in his unusual grammar.
"Yes, Grand Master Yoda," Skywalker stoically stated. The Council was especially critical of Anakin and his responses: verbal, emotional, and body language. The Jedi Knight was strenuously practiced in remaining collected and apathetic.
"Ask us, you may," the green creature allowed.
The floor was opened for Skywalker.
"Council members, there has been progress with Senator Amidala's condition. Though her induced coma must remain for her safety. In this state, the medical team can slow the division rate of the organisms infecting her with temperature and metabolism lowering.
What I've discovered is that the infection is midi-chlorian in nature." He activated an enlarged model of the organisms. "This is its breakdown, and here are the readings."
The highly intelligent beings studied and understood the readings.
"I had no idea such deformities were possible," Master Luminara proclaimed first.
Other members agreed with her statement.
They all turned to their Grand Master, being near a thousand years old. He had wisdom, information, and knowledge beyond all of them combined.
Yoda's heavily wrinkled face furrowed. "Seen this, I have not. New to me, this is."
The members exchanged concerned glances.
"I was unaware midi-chlorians could have any deformities, mutations, or ailments, either. I reran the results with new samples to be sure. The results are accurate. Due to the nature of the infection, I believe the Healers should work on Senator Amidala. The medical team here is stumped and has no experience or abilities concerning anything of Force nature."
The Council members exchanged glances with each other. Their telepathic abilities allotted many words to be said without being spoken.
Skywalker held his breath.
All seemed in agreement and eager to help. "Friend of the Jedi, Senator Amidala is. Help her, we will."
Anakin was elated, but masked it well.
"This will be the first time in known Jedi history a civilian has been allowed access to our Temple Healers. Are we sure about this?" Master Windu inserted.
All Council members' eyes darted to him.
Skywalker's eyes bored into Windu's. If looks could kill, the Master Jedi would be disintegrated.
"I don't understand your reasoning," Master Kai Amunduli said.
The Master sat up straighter in defiance of the other members. "Perhaps this should be allowed to take it's course. This appears to be an act of the Force," Windu argued.
"Surely, you cannot be serious? With that logic, the Order should not have Healers or any medical intervention," Kenobi quickly argued back.
The purple lightsaber owner sighed frustrated. "This is a mutation of midi-chlorian cells. I've never heard of this. It's so unusual there may be a meaning to it. I don't think there should be intervention, especially for someone outside the Order."
The longer this war dragged on, the more Master Windu became apathetic towards anyone outside the Order. Each remaining Jedi seemed to have developed something sharp during the war. They had good reason, the majority of the Order was dead. All that seemed left were the Masters, a handful of knights, the rare padawan, and the younglings within the Temple. Some became rigorously religious, others superstitious, and others questioned the Clone Wars as a whole.
Master Windu happened to form a strong in group and out group where everyone who was not a Jedi was a civilian. And civilians were less than a Jedi.
"Jedi should be protectors of the peace. Senator Amidala has long been a voice and champion for peace," Master Shak Ti proclaimed. Many nodded in agreement.
"I believe you stand alone, Windu," Kenobi spoke sitting forward. The Jedj gave a disapproving glare to Windu, who appeared unimpacted. Obi-Wan was displeased with the fellow Master. Ever since the wrongful expulsion of Ahsoka, mainly lead by Windu, Obi-Wan has been more admit and unyielding. "I believe it's decided, the Healers will attempt to aid Senator Amidala."
"Right course of action, this is,"Yoda proclaimed.
Skywalker gave a slight bow. Relief flooded him. "Thank you, Masters. I'll await their arrival and escort them into the Senator's hospital suite," he concluded. His blue irises gazing rose from their low focal point.
"Be there soon, they will be."
Skywalker nodded his understanding and the transition ended. His shoulders felt lighter and his chest unclenched. Maybe this is what would heal his spouse.
It took the Jedi Healers hours. Hours to admit defeat.
The Temple Healers could not help Padme's condition, which was incredibly disheartening.
They left saddened. Anakin Skywalker was heavy hearted. How could they have failed, too? What sort of horror are they dealing with?
Since main, secondary, and last resort sources were repetitively scoured, only incomplete ancient texts remained. They missed massive pieces of texts, and were more folklore than anything. He found some lines that stuck out to him:
"...the ladies of the shadows, night, and fog… unnatural abilities… bring life to the fallen, and health to the incurable…"
Ladies of the night? Nightsisters?
Anakin only knew one surviving Nightsister of sorts: Ventress.
The Coruscant underworld was putrid, put lightly. Dark, dank, with a slime covering everything. The air smelled of exhausts, and there were pockets of mechanical fumes and frigid air. Freezing or scalding temperatures, with many homeless beings huddled around exhaust pipes to stay warm. The incognito Jedi Knight gave them a sympathetic side glance, but he did not come here for them.
He sensed the Jedi youngling, turned Sith assassin, turned bounty hunter was near. His relationship, of sorts, with Ventress was… complicated.
She had given him the long scar across his left eye, massacred clones, and was a general enemy of the Republic. However, she also helped him discover the actual Temple Bombers, Barriss Offee. Without Ventress' help, Ahsoka could not have been proven guilty in the final moments of the trial.
As much as Skywalker wanted to loath Ventress, he could not. Not anymore, at least not fully.
He would have to leave his family for the first time since arriving at the hospital. His stomach turned. This was a necessity, however. The Jedi would need to stop at the Temple quickly to pick up some things from his quarters first.
The incognito Jedi Knight passed through the dank underworld streets. The air was humid and chilly, unless by an exhaust pipe. There were scorching hot pockets of steam, chemical waste and whatever else was being burned. Various species huddled around various vents for their individual climate needs. They looked pathetic, dirty, and faces hardened. Skywalker paid them a look of sincere empathy, his heart wanted to help them. But he forced his head forward. He was not here for them, not today.
Ventress was close, he could sense her. Not as shrouded as before when he last saw her. He looked up and saw her confidently peering down at him from an elevated walkway.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Skywalker? Another abandoned padawan in distress?" she sarcastically greeted. Her mechanical mask gave her voice a filter, and her tone had a hiss to it.
He pulled down his hood and fixed his hands inside his Jedi cloak's sleeves. "I'm here to talk with you," he said, as non-threatening as possible, though still firm.
She clicked the button on the side of her mask and her mask opened. "Oh?" her normal voice sounded. "No strangling me like last time?" she taunted, or perhaps tested.
He took a moment to respond. "I apologize for my brash tactics before. I was… in a hurry," he stated.
Her sharp glare remained on him as she sensed him out, watching for any twitch or flicker of the eyes. A sign of danger, a sense of deceit, but she found none. Her tight singular laugh echoed through metallic alley walls. "Please, don't flatter yourself. That's a simple hello where I'm from."
His tight shoulders loosened.
A moment passed of them staring at each other.
"I'm not coming down to you, Jedi," Ventress drawled impatiently.
Easily, Skywalker force leapt to her location. He landed crouched before her, careful to move slowly.
The former Sith assassin glared at him, hand near her blaster.
"I have something for you," he said, straightening to his full height. The Jedi reached into a side of his cloak and revealed an unsuspecting box.
Ventress scoffed at it, unimpressed. "I'm not interested in junk. My tastes are expensive now, Skywalker."
He gave a slight smirk, and opened the box. Inside lie her two lightsabers.
The flicker of utter shock did not go unnoticed by Anakin. Her fingers hesitantly twitched for them before she could stop herself. Suspicion grew in her and she moved away. "What do you want?" She challenged him.
He offered them closer. "Nothing. This is a thank you. Thank you for helping me prove Ahsoka's innocence. Without you… who knows what would've happened to her." His throat tightened. Right as he arrived at the trial, the verdict was about to be read by Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine. Tano's life hung in the balance, if guilty, she would have been sentenced to death. No one but the Chancellor knew what the selected senatorial council had chosen.
Ventress grabbed her weapons then without hesitation. A missing limb was regained. "They're in good shape," she observed. "Aw, did you clean them for me, Skywalker? Trying to impress a girl?" she said in a mocking tone, though perhaps some actual gratitude for their pristine upkeep was buried under her taunts. Perhaps.
The crimson blades were ignited and instantly their user's anger were as well.
"What did you do!?" she hissed.
He put his hand up passively. "Nothing, only maintained them." His eyes studied the red blade harder, he saw no difference. Maybe he did? They seemed… lighter? A whiter shade of red, getting closer to clear color, perhaps? Not pink by any means, but not so bloody crimson.
"They aren't as red!" she snapped, twirling them around wondering if there were any other horrifying changes.
Skywalker shrugged watching her reacquaint herself with the slender weapons. "I'm not responsible for it. Barris used them, maybe-"
"That brat couldn't have impacted them. She was too weak, they wouldn't yield to her…" she miserably sighed deactivating them. If she were honest, they had been slowly changing color in her care, too. But she was not about to admit that to the Jedi. The lightsabers were clipped onto her belt. "Surely you're not only here for a delivery," she stated matter of factly.
He tucked the empty box back into his cloak, not surprised by her lack of audible gratitude. "No, I'm not. I have something to ask you."
"I'm listening," she said impatiently.
He had rehearsed this, and chose his words carefully. "I was researching, and came across some legends of Nightsisters. I wanted to know if there was any validity to them."
Her eyebrows raised, "A Jedi wanting to know about the 'deplorable' witches? They're all gone, what does it matter?"
Skywalker deflated a little. He suspected as much after looking into reports from the Dathomir system. But these force users were crafty, always had been. Perhaps there were survivors? "An unusual disease came to the Order's attention, one midi-chlorian in nature. It's quite dangerous. The best doctors on Coruscant and the Temple Healers couldn't do anything."
"So you hunt down a sworn enemy? My, you must be desperate," she taunted.
His face tightened and he ignored her comment. "Can Nightsisters heal with the Force in ways… unnatural?"
She scoffed. "Unnatural? What my sisters did was natural. It's your crude, confined practices that are unnatural." Again, she watched him carefully sensing him out. "They could do many things, including heal and mend what was unmendable. But they weren't all powerful," her eyes saddened as she remembered their genocide. All because of her. "I'd need to know more about this 'disease' before I could say if they could have treated it."
Her past tense vocabulary did not go unnoticed by Anakin, but he refused to lose hope. "Here," he activated a data disk. The blue hologram projected between them of the make up, descriptions, cellular makeup, and anything else they had on Padme's condition. No names or personal information, of course.
She moved closer and studied it. "This is old magic…" she commented, still studying. Then her face soured and her teeth showed in disgust. "The Brotherhood!" she exclaimed.
"Who?" he asked, excited at the chance of a lead.
She looked at him, half stunned. "You've never heard of the Brotherhood? I guess I'm not too surprised…" she looked back at the projection half interested. "They could have handled this easily." Her hand brushed through the projection nonchalantly, as if to sweep it away like trash.
He nearly stopped breathing. "Is there a possibility of survivors, someone who would treat this?"
She leaned against the railing, arms crossed. "What's in it for me? Like I mentioned, I like expensive things now. Something tells me you can't afford me," she mocked, well aware of the Jedi's lack of materials, possessions, and monetary wealths.
He deactivated the hologram and reinstalled his hands in his sleeves. Negotiating, wanting something, these were good signs.
"You might be surprised," he nonchalantly stated. Her interest peaked, if not simply to know how he could possibly have such funds. "However, I can offer something better than credits."
She scoffed, "Oh? Well you already gave me back my lightsabers. Not quite the negotiator as Kenobi, are you?"
He activated another hologram, her image showed. A wanted sign, a list of atrocities against the Republic, the Jedi, and countless systems and powers that be. "A clean slate."
Ventress did not believe it for a second, but maybe she wanted to. "I doubt you've gotten a pardon for me from everyone I've committed crimes against." Still, she stared at the device.
"I never said that. But all the same, a clean slate. No records, nothing. A new life free of running."
Her eyes stared at him amused. "I always knew you had darkness in you, Skywalker, and a rebellious spirit. But erasing Jedi archives? My old master might be close to impressed."
He remained unphased, and refused to confirm or deny. "Well, are you interested? Or do those expensive things still hold your interest?"
A smile crept on her face, "Why not both?"
He sighed, "If you want."
"Tisk, tisk… You really aren't like Kenobi. You have no skills in negotiating."
"I'm not negotiating," he said darkly.
Her eyes flickered up to him. "Maybe he'd be more than impressed…" she said, again referring to her former trainer in the Sith ways, Count Dooku. "You're lucky, Skywalker. Today I woke up in a charitable mood. I know of someone who could help, and for the clean slate I'll tell you who. For some credits, I'll get her to do it for you."
"It's a deal, but I'm sure I could convince her." He had done it! He had a lead!
"No, you couldn't."
"If I can't, you'll get your credits, don't worry."
She straightened up. "Alright, let's go. I don't have all day."
"Where to?" he asked as patiently as he could muster.
"To this ailed individual, of course."
His face fell flat. "Not without the Nightsister."
She rolled her eyes. "You Jedi are all the same… She's already here, and I'm ready to go."
"You?" he said in disbelief.
"I find your lack of faith disturbing, Skywalker. Yes, me. Now let's get this over with so I don't have to speak with you anymore."
He stared at her, full of skepticism. Surely she was lying? He used the Force to probe her intentions. Venteress rolled her eyes, quite aware of his invisible investigation, and lowered her shields, letting him have full access. Anakin found no lies nor falsehoods. In fact, he sensed the gratitude he suspected and even a bit of that 'charity' she mentioned. It was bizarre, to sense the will to help within the former Sith Assassin.
"Satisfied?" she explained in an impatient huff.
He simply turned and lifted his hood up again. "Let's go."
~xXx~
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed! All interactions with the story are much appreciated, ESPECIALLY reviews!
Until next time.