The sun was just beginning to cast its rays between the skyscrapers when Anakin parked his speeder next to Padmé's private veranda. Given the orientation of the building, the veranda was still cast in shadow. If anyone happened to drive by at that moment they would probably assume that Anakin was a burglar. Or a secret lover that the senator was trying to keep from turning into a scandal. He had a lot of experience skulking around in the shadows.
He had just never done it before without the promise of seeing his wife… or, for that matter, with the knowledge that he was an unwelcome guest who needed to get his shit and get out.
Their bedroom—Padmé's bedroom—was decorated in deep blues and lush grays that she had picked long before he'd come back into her life. Although the droids kept the place meticulously mess free, Padmé did have various knickknacks and random pieces of art she had gathered during her travels displayed around the room. The intricate quilt had been custom woven for her by artisans on Naboo. She had told him that the first time he had ever spent the night with her in the apartment as husband and wife, when she had stopped him from simply tossing her onto the bed and ravishing her on top of the covers.
The last time he had spent the night, he had carefully folded the quilt and set it out of harm's way, on a chair on the other side of the room along with all of his clothes, while Padmé had been finishing her nightly routine in the refresher. She had not stopped his advances that night.
He had spent ages with his face buried between her silky thighs, reveling in every little sigh and gasp she had made and at every tug of his hair. She had sucked and nibbled a deep bruise into his collarbone as he had taken her exactly the way he knew she liked best, somewhere right in the middle between gentle lovemaking and remorseless fucking. She had encouraged him with her words and her fingers digging into his back as he had released himself as deeply into her body as it was possible to go, the only way he could physically mark her as his without leaving a visible mark that someone might see. And afterwards she had whispered promises and professions of love into his ear as he just barely held his weight off her, unwilling to separate their bodies one single moment before he had to.
She was one of the only people who had ever made him feel like he belonged somewhere. He had thought he belonged with her. That he was wanted for himself and not just for what he could do or how he could be used.
But what place had he really had in her life? He didn't doubt that she had loved him, and he didn't think that she had used him…. But despite everything they had experienced together or said to each other in this room, the only sign that Anakin had ever been here before was a datapad he had left laying on the small table next to his side of the bed.
He picked it up and tossed it into his bag without looking at what was on it, studiously ignoring looking at the bed again lest he end up throwing himself on top of it and sobbing into one of Padmé's pillows.
He had a bathrobe hanging on a hook in the refresher, which could easily pass as one of hers in case anyone saw it, and a couple changes of clothing hidden at the bottom of a drawer full of Padmé's stockings, which no one would ever see.
He had never minded the secrecy, knowing that it was necessary and that it wouldn't last forever, but he had only just realized how easy it was to erase his presence from Padmé's life. It was jolting.
There was nothing else that belonged to him in the penthouse, other than C-3PO. The droid was puttering around the public living space when Anakin entered, looking right at home among the creams and browns and gold accents.
"Master Anakin, I'm so glad you came!" he cried and approached Anakin as quickly as he was able. "There has been a terrible misunderstanding and I am at a loss about how to solve it!"
Anakin knew that Threepio was high-strung and tended to be dramatic. Anakin had only been nine when he had rebuilt him, and he had based his programming on the stereotypical butlers he had seen in holovids the few times he'd been able to see one, and he may have gone a bit overboard... but this seemed like a bit much even for Threepio. Anakin put his hand on the protocol droid's shoulder and led him to sit on the nearest sofa.
"Calm down, Threepio," he ordered gently. "What misunderstanding?"
C-3PO was not able to make facial expressions, but when he slumped forward Anakin didn't even need his sense of the droid in the Force to be able to tell how distressed he was. (Although he did have that, of course.)
"Oh, I must have made a mistake or betrayed Mistress Padmé, although I can't remember how!"
Anakin felt his eyebrows furrow reflexively in confusion. "You haven't betrayed Padmé, Threepio. Why would you think that?"
"I overheard Mistress Padmé and Captain Typho discussing whether my memory should be wiped," he revealed, one of his flailing arms nearly catching Anakin in the kneecap.
"What?" barked Anakin, his temper quickly rising. "The only way your memory will be wiped is over my dead body."
Threepio grabbed Anakin's mechanical wrist in a tight grip. "Master Anakin, you mustn't say such things! Not even in jest!"
"I'm not jesting." Anakin placed his flesh hand on top of Threepio's and offered him a tired smile. "But don't worry, Threepio. There aren't many people who could kill me, and none of them have any reason to wipe your memory."
He had never been so angry at Padmé in his entire life. If he had showed up to find Threepio's memory wiped, he could almost guarantee that her apartment building wouldn't have still been standing when she returned from Scipio. He would have taken the entire building down to the foundations and fuck the consequences. He was having a hard enough time not rattling the paintings off the walls as it was, after hearing that she and her head of security had merely talked about the idea. And talked about it in front of C-3PO, no less!
Anakin knew full well that his view of droids as sapient beings deserving of respect was wildly outside the norm, but he had thought that Padmé, of all people, had come to share his point of view. At least about Artoo and Threepio, if none of the others. Had she just been humoring him when she had pretended to listen to his explanations about how he could feel droids in the Force? Had she just been placating a little boy when she had publicly commended Artoo for his role in saving her during the occupationo of Naboo?
Honestly, had they reached the part of the break up where they each kept stooping lower and lower to one-up each other, or something? Padmé had made it clear the day before that she thought Anakin was handling the break up like a child, and Anakin could admit that he had taken a certain childlike delight in telling her that he was taking his protocol droid back (though that wasn't the primary reason he did it). But that was no reason for Padmé to scare Threepio.
Maybe it was silly or unfair to his estranged wife, but the thought flitted across his mind that if this was how she treated their droid, then he was glad they didn't have any younglings to put in the middle of it.
Anakin allowed himself a deep sigh. Then, as matter-of-factly as he could manage, he explained, "Padmé and I are separating. I told her that I want you to come stay with me, so she was probably just concerned that you might accidentally reveal some of her secrets. Isn't it usually standard protocol to do a memory wipe when a droid leaves your service?"
"Why, I would never!" exclaimed Threepio. "It is completely against my programming to reveal my masters' secrets. The very idea is—Did you say separating?"
"Yes."
C-3PO was silent for longer than Anakin could ever remember him being since Anakin had first switched him on, to the point that he was beginning to worry that the information was so startling to the droid that he had short circuited something important.
Then, with a voice that Anakin might have described as meek, Threepio said, "But you and Mistress Padmé love each other."
"I love Padmé very much." Even if he was currently having a vivid fantasy of shaking her until some sense rattled back into her head. "But, apparently, love isn't enough sometimes."
"I will never fully understand human behavior," declared the protocol droid.
"Don't worry about it, Threepio. Even humans don't understand human behavior…. But do you even want to come with me? You can stay with Padmé if you want to. I won't be offended."
He most definitely would be offended, not to mention hurt, but he wanted Threepio to make his own decision.
To his immense gratification and relief, Threepio didn't hesitate. "Oh, I do care about Mistress Padmé and I have enjoyed serving her, but you are my creator, Master Anakin. And I just don't know if I can continue to serve Mistress Padmé knowing that she thought of erasing my memory banks."
"You don't have to come with me just because I rebuilt you," Anakin told him, just to be sure. "I don't want you to come with me just because you feel like you owe me something. And I could always give you a few upgrades to make it virtually impossible for anyone but me to erase your memory."
"Oh, I've quite made up my mind." Threepio patted his arm in an almost motherly way. "But Master, what will I do? Given your record, I don't think the services of a protocol droid will be helpful to you in the field."
Anakin felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. "Gee, thanks."
Threepio caught the sarcasm, but not the light-hearted tone behind it, and rushed to explain, "Forgive me, Master Anakin. I only meant that you seem to much prefer violent solutions over diplomatic ones."
"I know what you meant, Threepio," Anakin assured him, with a full smile this time. "As for what you'll do, you can decide for yourself. If you want to stay at the Temple, I'm sure we could find work for you in the library or maybe with the Council of Reconciliation. Or you can come with me and be my assistant—I may not go on any diplomatic missions anytime soon, but I am in charge of running an entire ship, keeping track of all the troopers aboard, and dealing with naval and army officers."
"An aide-de-camp? Oh, yes, that sounds perfect!" Threepio rose eagerly from the sofa, his arms swinging as much in excitement as to counterbalance himself. "I must research information on all of the senior officers in the Grand Army of the Republic. Master Anakin, I must go immediately to your flagship and take an inventory."
Anakin's smile had developed into a full on grin, but he managed not to laugh aloud. Barely.
"Alright, Threepio," he said as he stood. "The ship will be docked for another week or so, and I will be going on another mission in the meantime, but you can stay on board until I get back if you want."
The protocol droid hurried ahead of him back towards the staircase leading up to the veranda. "A week? Well, if that is all the time I have to prepare, then I will just have to make do."
It didn't take as long as Anakin had thought it would to get C-3PO settled aboard the Integrity. Captain Rex had seemed faintly amused by his nervous chatter and more than a little confused about his presence, but the captain was nothing if not professional. Plus he had been under Anakin's command long enough that he could take almost anything in stride. Anakin had left explaining the protocol droid's presence to the other clone troopers in Rex's capable hands.
After Anakin had given Threepio access codes to all of his files and communications, Threepio had become so engrossed in his research that he had barely noticed when Anakin said goodbye. Anakin probably would have been offended if he hadn't still been so tickled that Threepio had chosen to come with him instead of stay with Padmé.
His next task for the day was bound to be even more unpleasant than visiting Padmé's apartment had been. He stopped in the corridor in front of Yoda's personal chambers and took a few long, deep breaths in an attempt to center himself, but all of his efforts went out the window as soon as the door slid opened. Obi-Wan was staring at him from a low sofa set against the wall opposite the door, his normally expressive face serious and shuttered. Mace Windu was barely taking the trouble to hide his glare, not that Anakin wouldn't have sensed it through the Force anyway even if Windu had tried to conceal it. Yoda was sitting cross-legged on a raised meditation pad in the middle of the room, and the placid expression on his face annoyed Anakin almost as much as Windu's open dislike.
"Ah, Anakin, come in," said Yoda, tilting his head as he examined him. "Feel lighter already, you do."
He supposed he did; if there was anything guaranteed to fill him with joy at the moment, it was the prospect of leaving Coruscant as soon as humanly possible. He just needed to get through this briefing. And he supposed that he also felt sort of happy about having Threepio back, even if it was only because he and Padmé were separating….
And there was the ever-present anger and hurt, always lingering just below the surface no matter how good he was feeling, and now magnified by what had happened in his marriage. He mentally shook it off as best he could. The moment was so brief that, as far as Anakin could tell, only Obi-Wan had noticed.
He decided to stick with the most palatable version of the truth. "Yes, Master Yoda. My preparations for this mission have given me a sense of relief."
Windu scowled, his eyes shining with poorly restrained hostility. "Master Yoda told us what you said. Do you think you're too good for the Temple, Skywalker? Is that it?"
Anakin pressed his tongue hard against the back of his teeth to prevent himself from immediately responding how he wanted, but he quickly reconsidered. Why shouldn't he be honest? He had already lost the thing that meant most to him in the universe, and Yoda and Obi-Wan already had some idea how he felt, and Mace Windu already hated him anyway.
"No, Master Windu, but I have always known that most Jedi don't want me here," he declared, keeping his voice as soft and calm as he could manage. He was staring directly into Windu's dark eyes, but he could still see in his peripheral vision as Obi-Wan startled and reared back as if Anakin had used the Force to smack him directly in the face. "Being here, surrounded by people who can't hide their feelings from me, is really not helping me let go of my negative emotions."
"What you are feeling is frustration at your arrogance!" Windu burst out, rising from his seat to stand toe to toe with Anakin. "Our frustration at how you break even the most basic rules and think you know better than your master, your instructors, and the High Council!"
Anakin raised his eyebrow and stared back without blinking. "Yes, because when I was ten years old and trying to prove that I was worthy to a bunch of Jedi Masters who had said right in front of me that they didn't want me, so that they wouldn't send me back to my slave master, that was arrogance you sensed."
"Enough!" broke in Yoda, as Obi-Wan made some sort of wounded animal sound Anakin had never heard from him before. "Here to question young Skywalker's motives, we are not. Already decided to send him on this mission, the Council has."
Anakin wanted to continue the argument—to say everything he had ever wanted to say—but he didn't want to prove Windu right, so he kept his face as impassive as possible and sat down next to Obi-Wan. He left Windu still standing aggressively in the middle of Yoda's chambers for several long seconds, until the Jedi Master finally seemed to shake himself out of it and returned to his seat.
It was apparent from Yoda's silence, and the way that Obi-Wan kept looking between him and Windu, that Windu was supposed to have filled Anakin in on the mission that had originally been his. This continued for so long that Anakin was starting to get uncomfortable, until Obi-Wan finally decided to take the initiative.
"We need you to go to Arkanis," he explained. After pausing for long enough to ascertain that neither Yoda nor Windu was going to break in, he went on, "There have been two assassination attempts against the empress's granddaughter within the past week. Someone opened fire into a market where she was shopping. They didn't know at first whether she was the target or if it was just bad luck, but a few days later it was found that someone had tampered with the controls of the speeder she was scheduled to ride in later that day. Arkanis military intelligence suspects that the Separatists are trying to end Empress Elissa's line, because if her granddaughter were to die her heir would be her niece whose husband happens to be a general in the Separatist army."
Anakin had never been to the Arkanis system or its namesake planet, but it was in the same sector as both Tatooine and the Geonosis system so he was at least passingly familiar with it.
"The Arkanis system controls the intersection between the Corellian Run, the Triellus Trade Route, and Hutt space," he mused aloud.
"It also has one of the top military officer academies in the Republic," added Windu, who seemed to have calmed down from their earlier confrontation. Or at least gotten himself under better regulation.
"I can see why we care about protecting the existing authoritarian regime of the system." Though he did find it somewhat hypocritical, still, that the Jedi insisted on working with dictators while they proclaimed that their mission was to protect democracy.
"Your primary objective is the protect the empress's granddaughter, not to investigation the assassination attempts." Obi-Wan gave him a pointed look, and Anakin knew they were both remembering how well he had followed a similar order regarding a certain senator from Naboo. "However, it seems certain that someone from within the palace is giving information about the princess's movements to the Separatists, at the very least, so in order to protect her you might have to do a bit of sleuthing into which of the people around her is in on the plot."
The mission seemed almost too easy. Anakin wondered why they had needed to have an entire brief for this, when the information could have easily been put into an e-mail.
Windu crossed his arms over his chest. "I hope you realize that this is not a military exercise. You will be required to use discretion."
There it was. The Council didn't trust that he could do this.
"Anakin can be quite discreet when he puts his mind to it." Obi-Wan leaned in briefly and bumped Anakin's arm with his shoulder. "He just doesn't often put his mind to it."
"This change of pace will be good for young Skywalker, I think," Yoda added as he tapped his fingers along his gimer stick in a rhythm only he seemed to follow. "Always send him from one warzone into the next, we should not."
So, Obi-Wan had supported sending Anakin on this assignment, and Yoda had insisted regardless of what Windu and the rest of the Council thought. Interesting.
Anakin appreciated their advocacy on his behalf. Really he did. But quite honestly, he would have preferred being sent into another battle where he could lose himself in the flow of the Force and take out his aggression on a few thousand battle droids and maybe a Separatist officer or three. Still, it isn't like he could have told Master Yoda that, so instead he had asked to be sent away so that he could find the peace he was unable to achieve in the Temple. He supposed that he couldn't complain about the results of his deception. And getting away from Coruscant was the main goal, so if all he had to do to get his way was to babysit a spoiled little girl for a week or two, he could deal with it.
To his immense relief, the meeting ended soon after that.
To his dismay, when he arrived at the hangar he found that the ship Windu had procured for the trip was, to put it mildly, an absolute piece of shit.
Anakin gaped at it in disbelieving horror for what must have been a good ten seconds before he finally thought to reach out and probe the ship with the Force. But no, there were no surprises hiding beneath the rusty, pockmarked exterior. The light freighter was just as much a bucket of bolts as it appeared to be.
His astromech droid was also not on board. Anakin expanded his awareness in the Force and found him on the other side of the hangar.
He approached to find Artoo standing next to a distinctive red-and-white Skyspirit-class Courier, beeping suggestions laced with insults up at a mechanic who was perched on one of its wings. Anakin raised an eyebrow at the droid's colorful language, which would have been more appropriate in a pod race on Tatooine than in the Jedi Temple. He could only presume that the mechanic couldn't understand binary or else he wouldn't be sitting there so calmly asking Artoo to hand him a hydrospanner while the droid insulted his mechanical aptitude, his mother, and his cock size.
Upon seeing Anakin, Artoo chirped in welcome, then commenced beeping so quickly that Anakin had trouble keeping up with what he said.
"Hey, R2-D2, how about that hydrospanner?" called the mechanic, then he raised his eyes from the open panel on the wing and noticed that Anakin was there. His eyes widened in surprise and his cheeks turned red. "Oh, General Skywalker, sir, I, th-th-they told me that this droid belongs to you, but I thought they were h-having me on."
He was new, as far as Anakin could tell.
"He does," Anakin confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest, "and he says that the aileron you replaced is out of line with the others by two and half millimeters on the left side and three millimeters on the right side."
Artoo hissed something that Anakin did not think it would be helpful to repeat.
The young mechanic stuttered and nearly slipped off the wing. Anakin turned away, shaking his head, and made a note to himself to have a talk with the head of ship maintenance about supervising his employees more closely. Everyone knew that they were liable to be electrocuted by Artoo if they tried to mess with any of Anakin's ships, even to do routine maintenance, and that if Artoo didn't get to them first they would wish he had once Anakin got ahold of them. So he wasn't worried about his own ships, but it was the principle of the thing.
"Why aren't you getting the ship ready for takeoff?" Anakin asked as soon as they were out of hearing range of the young mechanic.
Artoo stopped for a moment, then rolled directly into the back of Anakin's knee in rebuke, beeping furiously that he had thought Windu was joking when he said that was the ship.
Anakin barked out a laugh as he shuffled awkwardly to regain his balance. "Windu, joking? No, I doubt he knows how. But he does seem to haven taken this whole 'discretion' business way too far."
By this time they were walking up the gangplank, which groaned and creaked alarmingly beneath them, and Artoo made a whirring sound that Anakin could only agree with.
"Yeah, I'm not sure even the two of us are going to be able to get this death trap all the way to Arkanis."
Padmé Amidala Naberrie had been in many dangerous situations in her life, especially since the beginning of the Clone Wars. A lot of situations that seemed impossible to get out of, even. She was more than capable of handling herself in basic combat situations.
But now, trapped in a room with Rush Clovis, the man she had put her trust in over her own husband, as a battle raged outside… Now, she realized that she had developed a bad habit of throwing herself headlong into situations that she knew might develop into ones she couldn't get herself out of, because she always knew that she could depend on Anakin to come to her rescue, come hell or high water.
Anakin. Her husband. Her sweet, handsome knight.
Anakin, who had been right about Rush all along, and who wasn't going to come save her now.
He had apparently changed his com frequency after that disastrous call before she'd left for Scipio, because she had called him half a dozen times and gotten an error message each time. She had called Obi-Wan, too, but he had not been willing to give her Anakin's new com frequency or even to tell her if he was still on Coruscant.
"I don't know exactly what happened, Senator Amidala," he had said, a frown visible beneath his beard, "but if Anakin has cut off communication with you then I think it is for the best."
She had been so surprised that all of her training had flown out the window and she had gasped out, "How could that be for the best?"
"Anakin is a Jedi, Senator Amidala, and his attachment to you is holding him back. If you really care for him, then let him go."
He had looked sympathetic when he had said it, but no amount of sympathy could take the sting out of his words.
Padmé had been frightened of what Anakin had done to Rush—of what he was capable of doing in general. The war had changed him. It had changed them all, of course, but her sweet Anakin had become so serious, so quick to anger. It reminded her of that horrible time on Tatooine, only she had been able to help him then, to calm him and support him and show him love. Somewhere along the way she had let fear creep in, and this time, instead of trying to help her husband, she had told him to leave.
She had only meant for them to be apart temporarily. She had been thinking that if she could just get some separation from him for a little while, she could… She didn't even know anymore.
All Padmé knew was that she may very well have driven Anakin away forever, and that was only if she managed to get off Scipio alive. She had called Supreme Chancellor Palpatine just before they had taken her prisoner, but Anakin hadn't been there. No Jedi had been there, and she had no idea if anyone was coming to save her now. Even if they came, she knew that she would not be the top priority for any other Jedi besides her husband.
If she died, she could only hope that Anakin wouldn't blame himself. It was too late to wish that her harsh words could be forgotten, or that the pain she had caused him could be taken away, but if there were any mercy or justice or good at all in the universe, she hoped that Anakin knew that whatever was going to happen to her was not his fault.
It rained on Arkanis nearly all the time, a constant drizzle interspersed with heavy downpours two or three times a week. Anakin was already miserable and he had just gotten there. He had barely managed to land Windu's piece of shit light freighter at the space port without crashing it into something; he honestly had no idea how Windu, who was not known for his piloting skills, had planned to fly the fucking thing. Then he had spent the next half hour trudging through the wet streets to get to the palace. The sidewalks were built slightly sloped so that the rain would drain off, and nearly every square inch was covered by a vast system of canopies, but that didn't stop the dampness from penetrating fucking everything.
As instructed, Anakin approached a discreet door used by servants and delivery people, and he was met by a security officer who had apparently been expecting him (no doubt he had an informant at the space port). The security measures he observed while walking through the palace seemed professional and efficient—stationary guards, roving guards, cam droids, security locks—so the theory that the assassination attempts had to be the work of someone on the inside seemed ever more likely.
The throne room he was shown into was very red. Red carpets, red wall coverings, and red chairs, with elaborate marble and gold columns and even more elaborate gold chandeliers and wall sconces. It was probably the most ostentatious display he had ever seen.
Empress Elissa was sitting in one of the gold and red thrones on top of the dais at the head of the room. Or at least Anakin presumed that only the empress would dare sit there. She was much, much older than he had expected. And smaller. Other than a small tiara perched on her perfectly coiffed hair and the fact that she was sitting on a literal throne made of gold, nothing about her person or demeanor screamed ostentation.
"Jedi Knight Skywalker, we welcome you to Arkanis." Her voice was soft and a touch too high to sound pleasant.
Anakin should probably have spent two minutes asking Threepio about the proper protocol for this situation when he had the chance, but he hadn't. He guessed that probably most people bowed, but were Jedi expected to? He didn't know.
He settled for inclining his head in what he hoped was a respectful way. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
She regarded him with shrewd blue eyes. He could not tell from her expression whether he had offended her or whether she was just sizing him up.
"This is my granddaughter, Princess Cailee." The empress's hands stayed folded perfectly in her lap rather than gesturing or making any sign, but the girl stood from her chair in the corner of the throne room and walked to the edge of the dais.
Given that he had expected a much younger empress, he had also pictured her granddaughter as a little girl, maybe with pigtails or a doll. Instead he was faced with a young woman of indeterminate age, but certainly not a child. He would guess at least sixteen but no more than twenty. She was very tall for a human woman, with blonde hair that flowed loosely down to the middle of her back but was held off her pretty face by a jeweled tiara.
"Thank you for coming, Knight Skywalker," she said, her voice more pleasing to the ear than her grandmother's.
"My pleasure, Your Highness."
The empress nodded, which must have been some prearranged signal, because the security officer who had led him through the palace, who had been waiting just inside the door, left the room. Anakin did not turn to look behind himself, but he could feel the man's presence retreat further away and could sense the door closing behind him.
Once the three of them were alone in the throne room, the empress declared, "It is difficult to know who to trust in these trying times. One of the people I have entrusted with my granddaughter's safety has betrayed us. I hope that I am not making a mistake to trust you as well."
Anakin's brow furrowed, but otherwise he thought he managed to hide his offense pretty well. "Of course not, Your Majesty,"
However, some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Empress Elissa asked sharply, "You disagree with my assessment?"
"I don't disagree," he replied, clutching his hands behind his back to avoid the urge to cross his arms over his chest. "But I have found that normally something as complex as an assassination involves more than one person."
Also he was a bit offended that she had questioned his integrity, but he didn't see how saying so would be helpful. He would much rather prove himself through action rather than words anyway.
"That is a troubling thought." The empress frowned, which was the most emotion Anakin had seen on her face so far. "Tell me, Jedi: How do you, a single person against these unknown forces, plan to keep my granddaughter safe?"
"Well, first of all, I will need to go through this place inch by inch and find anymore of these."
Using the Force, Anakin wrenched a small device from behind the curtain on the wall directly behind the empress's throne and levitated it across the room until it stopped in front of his face. He plucked it out of the air using the thumb and forefinger of his mechanical hand.
"Is that—?"
"A bug? Yes."
The princess stepped closer to him and peered up at the listening device as if she could solve the mystery just by staring at it hard enough. Anakin lowered his arm and turned his hand over to offer the bug to her. Without any hesitation, she reached out and took it between two delicate fingers and held it up closer to her beautiful face.
"How do we turn it off? I don't see any mechanis—" She let out a tiny gasp of surprise as the bug started crumpling in her hand, until virtually nothing was left. Her eyes flew up to meet Anakin's. "Oh. That is a useful skill, Knight Skywalker."
Anakin allowed a brief smile to lift up the corners of his mouth. "Almost as useful as finding them in the first place, Your Highness. This room is clear. For now."
The empress was still sitting perfectly straight on her throne, with her legs crossed demurely at the ankles, but her hands were now clutching the arms of the chair in a white-knuckled grip. "If someone has placed these devices throughout the palace, then perhaps they have not been receiving information from a member of our security forces after all."
"Maybe not, Empress Elissa." Based on the way the princess stiffened, he guessed that he had committed some faux pas in addressing the empress, but he was at a loss to know how so he shrugged it off. "Unfortunately, that means our list of potential suspects just got even bigger, since now we aren't only looking for someone who would have knowledge of the princess's movements. Anybody with access to roam around the palace without drawing too much suspicion could have planted the bugs."
"We don't even know how many there are," protested Princess Cailee. She lifted up the pea-sized ball of metal that used to be a listening device. "Maybe this is the only one."
Well, that would be easy enough to find out. Anakin closed his eyes to help himself push aside his awareness of all the other people and droids in the palace and focus on the distinctive tinny signal of the devices. Organic people were always the easiest to sense in the force but the most difficult to push aside when he did not want to sense them. Droids were exponentially more difficult to sense, and Anakin had come to learn over the years that there were not many Jedi who could sense them at all, no matter how hard they focused. Other electronics lacking the sentience of droids were even harder still, and he had never met another Jedi who could sense them. Even Obi-Wan and Ahsoka didn't seem to fully believe that he could do it. They seemed to think instead that he just had an outlandish, unreasonable affinity for machinery that defied explanation.
Even given his Force ability to sense and understand electronics, locating the tiny little bugs required Anakin to draw more heavily on his connection to the Force than he normally ever did outside of serious combat, and to concentrate more fully than he normally did under any circumstance.
Anakin finally opened his eyes again to find the princess staring at him with unveiled curiosity and the empress emoting just as much curiosity into the Force, although her outward appearance had not changed. He had to resist the urge not to try to shrink under the scrutiny—he was by no means a shy man, but something about having these two stare at him so openly in an otherwise empty room made him a tad bashful.
He cleared his throat. "I can feel at least a dozen more of them. After we figure out which rooms they're in, hopefully we can narrow down the list of potential suspects."
Both women were utterly silent for the space of several heartbeats, then the princess turned her head to look at her grandmother. The two seemed to have some sort of wordless communication with their eyes, which ended when the old woman gave a curt nod. When the empress lifted her head, her entire posture seemed to relax all at once. Anakin doubted that she ever sat in a way that could be described as slouching, but she came as close to it as one could without describing it that way.
"Very well, you'll do," announced Empress Elissa. "Tell me what you need."
Author's Note: The idea that mechanical aptitude is a Force power is in a few novels and legends materials. Daniel José Older's Race to Crashpoint Tower has a Padawan who can use the Force to understand technology, and in the New Jedi Order series Anakin Solo is a mechanical prodigy just like his grandfather was. The idea that Jedi can sense droids in the Force, at least in a kind of vague way (like "there is a droid over there" but not like "and the particular droid is R2-D2" or anything) is used in several places as well. I have just kind of combined the two ideas a bit here.
There is a particular scene in Karen Miller's The Clone Wars: Wild Space where Anakin sees the first star detroyer he is being given to command and Ahsoka is standing around impatiently, somewhat annoyed with Anakin as she watches him "commune in leisurely silence with the newly commissioned cruiser. As though they shared a telepathic conversation. As though the ship were whispering secrets in his ear." Ahsoka is "baffled" by this, but I find it really explanatory about Anakin.
