pronker

Part Seventy-Six

"You. And Obi-Wan."

Anakin drank the last of his caf. He wiped his lips on her elegant napkin and placed it beside her elegant table setting. He steepled his hands. How to explain this to a non-Force sensitive? Padmé had not a whit of truly understanding the sense of surety he enjoyed with every breath. "Yes. Trow showed me so much. If you could only know the Force, Padmé, you'd know this is real and true. My vision showed me how Master and I are meant to be together always, or something terrible will take place." He was no closer to discerning the meaning of the fog and the bridge and the meanness of Obi-Wan, but that didn't bother him. The pervading feel of a sick occurrence just over the event horizon in his vision had not left him.

Padmé only stared. "You. And Obi-Wan."

"Yes. I know this is a shock, but it's for the best. Won't you think about it? We'll work something out, I'm sure of it." It was important that he not sweat.

Padmé rose and clasped her elbows in her hands, prowling into the sitting room. "What do you expect me to say, Anakin? My husband loves his Master more than he loves me --- "

"Not true! Padmé, I love both of you. I, I follow the will of the Force in this --- "

" --- which told you all those years ago that you and I would marry. Or rather that you would marry me. Some difference, I think."

Anakin moved from the doorway of the kitchen into the sitting room and spread his mechno-hand out to her, but she wrenched away, her morning robe falling open. He dropped his hand to his side, wishing he could switch percentages of natural body to mechno-body, so that ninety per cent of him could be unfeeling circuits and ten per cent could be liable to heartbreak. "I'm n-not certain it was the Force when I was nine. I think it was simply me. You were lovely and rare and precious on Tatooine." My kata is so difficult. "I love you both now. I want you both in my life. Tell me how I can have that. Padmé, please." I bought both pairs of shoes in the mirage I saw by Gitchy. The vendor had red stiletto pumps and Jedi boots ... white boots, soft, sueded things I've never seen at the Quartermaster's ... "Please."

"Anakin! It's not easy being married, and now you want to make it worse?" Is Palpatine spying right now? Padmé regarded her vase filled with flameflowers. Tampered with? Spychips in their pistils, their stamens? She laughed harshly. Get a grip. You knew they loved each other. They are always together, except when Ani --- Anakin --- is with you. And how rare that is. And how you do like your breathing room. "Anakin, if this is what you want, all right. I'll give it ... six months' trial. After that, we'll see." Mama and Papa and Sola, I do have 'someone special' in my life. A special pain.

"You'll see. It will work out." Anakin couldn't bear the ensuing hurtful silence. He switched on the holocomm to audio only, the Diurnal Dron's Drive Time Download show and was startled to hear sobbing from ever-giggling Dron.

"He - He w-was the only Chancellor some of us have ever known, so dedicated to us all ... it's not right, he was so young ... " Anakin switched over to a visual feed, Coruscant Today. An image of Chancellor Palpatine filled the holocomm's screen along with the date of his birth and this year's date? Palpatine is dead? His friend, mentor to all non-Jedi aspects of life? He sat down, crushed. Padmé sank into the sofa beside him.

"Chancellor Palpatine, our dedicated leader, died some time last night in a freak power surge accident. He was discovered this morning by his oldest staffmember, also a confidant from Naboo. She called for emergency aid immediately and tried herself to resuscitate her fellow citizen, but he had perished." Professional attitudes deserted the announcer and her voice hitched. "Our Supreme Chancellor was, as many times before, spending the night alone" --- Padmé looked down guiltily --- "working in his office reviewing a security protocol. Protecting us, in his l-last conscious deed. Palpatine of Naboo, we will miss you."

Tears coursing down his cheeks, Anakin sobbed, "I gave him a ride around the city in our Courier th-three weeks ago. He needed a break, he said. He was so worn out, Padmé --- "

Padmé pressed Anakin's head on her shoulder. "Yes. Worn out. He was old, Anakin. It's the same with all of us. It's the war that's worn us out." She lay her cheek on his silky spikes.

"How will we go on?" My friend, my selfless friend ...

She cleared her throat. "We will go on, Anakin. Procedures are in place to transfer power in these situations." My colleague. Not that I trusted him lately, but ... an old Naboo colleague. She held Palpatine's friend gently, spying the droid-destroying chip on the caf table and thinking hard.

The river planned.

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Part Seventy-Seven

"Terrible news, Padawan Skywalker." The SP-4 droid's vocoder held no inflection. "Our sympathies on the loss of your friend."

Anakin figured his puffed eyes and downturned mouth alerted the droid's empathy-interface chip. He'd not had the inclination to self-heal this morning. It seemed to diminish the Chancellor somehow. "Thanks. It was a loss for the galaxy." He gathered himself a moment. "This chip I need to have analyzed: material, origin, purpose. It was found on Coruscant, but could be from illegal manufacturing, possibly from Nar Shaddaa. I'll wait." What a night on the town. Sometime today I need to see Obi-Wan and tell him ... tell him what? Not about Padmé, not about my lies. Tell him I need to talk about Palpatine, I guess.

"Understood." The SP-4 went into total droid mode, retrieving the chip from the input slot, bathing it in a stasis light that would hold clean all evidence touching the chip, while allowing analyzing techniques to envelop it. Anakin watched the SP-4 walk away to the bowels of the Analysis Room. He sat down to wait, placing the parcel containing his anniversary gift under his seat. He grimaced sourly as he kicked it further out of sight. My kata might never be completed.

"Padawan Skywalker, your requested fire damage investigation is ready to be appended to your Trow mission report." Another SP-4, identical to the first, addressed him in the same flat voice.

Anakin rubbed his jaw. "My what --- oh, the cause of the fire. Yeah, sure." So much had happened since Trow; the agreement with Strenghis had been nine days ago. Long enough for the Republic's teachers to have arrived, and Dimmie and Beebar to have returned home with them, if they so chose. Time enough for the retrieval team to locate the Courier in Gitchy's cold depths and begin to analyze the cause of the unusually tenacious fire that pierced the bulkheads of their craft. He shook his head, having trouble focusing, but he soldiered on. "All right. Give me a copy and a datapad." The slot produced the necessary items and Anakin sat down again to read. After ten minutes, he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "SP-4, when did this report come to you?"

"0800 today."

"You've analyzed it?"

"Affirmative."

"There was an accelerant used?"

"Affirmative."

"It's a common one, most often used for insurance fraud arson?" I need Obi-Wan's detecting skills on this one.

"Affirmative. There were remnants of a delayed-action timer attached to the melted container, which was labeled in an obscure Huttese code 'Undetectotane.' 'Undetectotane' is mostly undetectable. What was inside the container were not 'Undetectotane' traces; it was a more common accelerant called 'Flame-On.'"

Cheated. Whoever sabotaged our Courier was cheated. The throbbing dull pain that had begun with a stiff neck spread to his tired eyes. Why would someone sabotage their Courier? Was the damage even meant for them and/or their mission? The Courier was a generic vehicle, used by Jedi for all ranges of security, from delivering foodstuffs to groundquake victims to ferrying small groups of visiting dignitaries. It made little sense for Black Sun or the Separatists to target this one. Something more personal? Well, Obi-Wan and I did almost die in it. And I am the Chosen One. Was I the target of the CIS or specifically, Dooku? Could some agent of the Sith be after Master in revenge for the Zabrak who killed Master Qui-Gon? His brain dulled by grief, Anakin thumbed his signature on the report. Twenty minutes of apathy followed. He'd skipped his dawn meditation this morning and it showed.

"Report on the chip complete, Padawan Skywalker. You look fatigued; would you care for some water?" This droid had a fussing subroutine similar to Threepio's.

Water. Water goblets. Anakin shook his head as he trudged up to the window. "Go ahead."

"Analysis: Incomplete. Origin: Unknown, possibly Hutt world or colony due to Huttese codes. Material: Standard from any manufacturer, no significant variation in method of production. Purpose: Implant Huttese coding for conversion of standard droid programming to 'spy' mode upon input of chip in conjunction with subversion of partner droid's subroutines, to act in collusion with as implementer/enabler of transmission of information in the form of visual/audio clips upon triggering mechanism of key words and/or actions."

Artoo and Threepio, spies in Padmé's --- and his --- household. "What key words or actions?" It couldn't be anything too obvious, such as "My committee had a meeting with the Chancellor today and he funded all our requests" or "I hear Orto's minister is taking bribes." It would be something more subtle than "bribes," or "Chancellor," or "funded." Was Padmé right in thinking this was another assassination attempt, using the droids as spies to discover her travel plans or daily habits? Adrenaline chased away part of his headache. "What key words or actions?" he repeated.

The SP-4's vocoder spewed in a relentless monotone "darling, beloved, honeybunch, honey, sweetheart, no do it this way, sugarlips, angel, stud, big boy, sugardaddy, playtime, fuck me, harder, don't stop now, to the right, to the left, down front, faster, rub it, kiss it, kiss me, ooooooh, softer, I'm coming, oh Mama, more, baby, that's so good, wow, what are you doing, are you nearly there, my big man, my little man, my own sweetiepie, my you're big, suck it, put in the power converters first before you switch it on --- "

"Stop!" Anakin choked out hoarsely. "And --- the actions?"

"I shall verbally produce the Huttese binary code translations: sheets rustling, creaking bedsprings, in conjunction with room lights on or room lights off, tapping of furniture against wall structure or flooring, indistinct thumping from neighboring dwelling accompanied by muffled shouting. There are some obscure references to actions outside my database. Would you care to translate them for me?"

If only I could Force-suggest that you forget all this. This day could only get worse if I discovered that the droids had been spying when I last had sex with Padmé, uh, oh yeah, the same day that I gave the Chancellor his ride around Galactic City ... oh, Chancellor ... "No. I would not. And give me that chip. Place your findings under my security code, my eyes only. Top priority. Oh, and thanks." I need Obi-Wan.

The river blushed.

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