We’re almost there, folks. Two more installments … then it’s notes. And a snippet of what was to come. Thanks for reading.
Sheev had taken little convincing to agree to the treatment, since he himself had endorsed the Council's suggestion on the way home from Naboo. It was not unusual for them to visit the Council together once a year, but she more often visited the public gardens on her own. She did not doubt that the media observed her visit to the Temple, but her presence there was not unusual enough to raise serious questions. The impression was heightened by the fact that she was there with a minimal number of guards. Zia was otherwise occupied and Uli escorted her past the security checkpoint on her own, chatting amiably about the previous day's events. The passing Jedi gave her sidelong glances and some of the younger ones stopped to stare, but no one interrupted them.
Once they entered the turbolift to the Healers' Wing, Uli fell silent. She may have felt uncomfortable alone with the Chancellor's wife or she might have sensed Amne's nervousness. Whatever her reasons, Amne appreciated the moment to collect herself.
The annex of the wing was nearly deserted, but the senior Padawan behind the desk immediately bowed in deference. “Good morning,” she greeted. “If you will come with me, Healer Thiau is ready for you.”
“Master Zia will come for you when you are done,” Uli added. “It was good to see you again.”
That was part of what she appreciated about Uli. She was capable of acting like a young woman, but she was concise for the most part.
“And you,” Amne agreed.
She followed the other Jedi back to a small room that might have been a collegiate dorm. The man she assumed to be Healer Thiau was standing next to an empty chair and extended a hand.
“Good morning, Amne,” he began. “I'm Du Thiau and we'll be working together.”
It was the first time in years that a stranger or even a casual acquaintance had spoken to her in such a familiar way. Even those she had known for years deferred to formality more often than not. She hesitated for only a moment before responding.
“Good morning, Du,” she responded. “I'm Amne Selrieen Palpatine.”
“I've seen you around,” he said dryly. “Would you like to take a chair or the bed?”
She moved without comment to the twin-sized bed, but sat on its edge instead of lying down. He smiled and shut the door behind him.
“In sixteen years of meeting with people, I have only had four friends choose the chair,” he stated. “You are welcome to remove your shoes.”
She was not quite ready to relax, so simply waited for him to continue. He sat in the chair at the desk and took a long, steadying breath.
“I am aware of your situation,” he said. “If you would like, you may speak of it.”
She shook her head, not wanting to be obstinate or resistant, but not having any desire to start things out on such an emotional subject.
“All right,” Du said as if that had not changed his plans at all. “Please tell me why you accepted the invitation to meet with me.”
“I have been troubled by nightmares and considerable guilt,” she said, as she had rehearsed. “I believe that both have become irrational and beyond my control.”
He nodded simply. “Thank you for your honesty,” he commented. “I hope you feel free to speak to me. We follow the same standards of confidentiality as the rest of the therapeutic galaxy.”
“Including the stipulation that, if there is something that endangers another sentient being, you are able to divulge it to others,” said Amne.
It was now his turn to hesitate in response to the frank cynicism in her tone. It had not come of a desire to offend him, but years of thinking of potential liabilities.
“You are the most powerful woman in the Republic,” he reminded her. “We will avoid that circumstance at any cost.”
She did not believe there was anything that would require a breach of confidentiality, but it was good to hear his reassurances. She nodded in return.
“All right,” he said. “Then, let me discuss with you how we might proceed. You seemed reluctant to talk about your situation at the moment. I will respect that. Would you be comfortable with letting me see one of your nightmares?”
“Will I have to see it as well?” she blurted out.
“Very little of it,” he responded. “I would only need you to remember something from the dream. I would repress as much of the rest as you allowed me. You will have to trust me without knowing me.”
For now, that had to be enough. “I am only interested in healing,” she replied. “To start with, I will just have to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
He finally smiled at that. “Then let us begin.”
*****
It was not until her third session that they left the one-sided conversation of her dreams. The nightmares had not stopped since the beginning of the sessions, but there was something comforting in the knowledge that she was doing something about them.
Du's next question was anything but comforting: “What do you blame your husband for?”
She flushed and turned her face toward the window that formed the fourth wall of the room. “What dream were you exploring?”
“The destruction of the hospital,” he explained calmly as if afraid of startling her. “But it was something of an observation. I have visited that one more than the others because it is the one that you most frequently associate with the trauma. You see him as your attacker, as the man responsible for that tragedy. Is this what you believe to be irrational?”
That characterization was specifically what had troubled her the night before the inauguration. That unease had been powerful enough to capture the attention of the Jedi, and she could not ignore it.
“It is one of the things,” she granted reluctantly.
“Do you believe your husband to be a threat to you?”
She rolled onto her back and gave him a sharply reproving look. “That is an inappropriate question,” she stated.
“I'm sorry,” he said quickly. “I am attempting to discover how irrational you think his replacement in this memory is.”
She had stood loyally by his side for ten years, through bad decisions and noble moments alike. She could not be disloyal to him now.
“He told me shortly before my capture that I would wish that I had believed his suspicions of the Separatists someday,” she said carefully. “That was the first time that I saw that prediction come true.”
Du finally nodded in understanding. “Of course you associate him with that moment,” he observed.
Sheev’s tone had never turned predatory. There was little, if anything, to fear from him.
Before she could speak again, there was a knock at the door. She sat up immediately, but Du held up a hand.
“Our time is not yet up,” he said. “One moment.”
When he opened the door, she caught a glimpse of Ilhur, one of her guards, outside the door before Du left. He returned less than a minute later, his expression solemn.
“Your husband needs to discuss a matter with you and only has half an hour before the Senate reconvenes again,” he informed her.
Amne slipped on her shoes and reached for her traveling cloak. “Where is he?”
“Guardsman Ilhur and Padawan Uli will bring you to him.”
Sheev was waiting in a remote conference room that stood two levels down and beyond the public gardens. His expression was worn; his face looked somehow aged since she had seen him that morning. Hoping to ease some of that tension, she kissed him quickly and then let him get to business.
“I'm sorry to disturb you,” he said genuinely, “but two hours ago, we received a communique from Master Kenobi. He has conclusive proof of a Separatist alliance that is moving against the Republic. It has the support of such organizations as the Banking Clan, the Techo Union and the Trade Federation, with all of its battle droids. As a result, one of the representatives from Naboo is going to call for a vote once the session reconvenes, requesting transferral of emergency executive powers to the Office of the Chancellor.”
Senator Amidala was still in hiding, so it would be Representative Binks, the excitable and high-strung alien, who decided whether or not to overreact to the Separatist movement. That was disturbing enough information in and of itself, but that could not be the only reason he came here.
“What do you intend to do with those emergency powers?” Amne asked frankly.
“Defend the Republic,” he answered firmly. “Details will follow, but we must be prepared to protect ourselves if it comes to war.”
“Protection meaning overriding the need for the Military Creation Act,” she observed.
Sheev nodded solemnly. “Much is undecided at this moment, but I request your support.”
You mean you require it. Requesting it is just a formality.
“This is not what we wanted,” she muttered.
“I have worked hard to ensure that the crisis did not come to this,” he insisted. “You have risked much and we have lost much because we believed that this was not to be.”
“And yet you would allow it.”
She expected to feel anger, but only experienced defeat. She felt more exhausted than she would have after a sleepless night.
“I have no other choice.”
She had never heard him use that absolute and had trusted in her husband's advisors to prevent such a terrible need for it. She pursed her lips to keep in an angry response or challenge.
“If you require my support, you will have it insofar as this response is absolutely necessary,” she said at last.
He reached out to take her chin in the hollow of his hand. “I know your loyalties to peace and your loyalties to me will be in conflict,” he soothed. “You may rail at me in private all you like, but for your public loyalty, I am grateful.”
She attempted a smile, but the sudden emotional exhaustion was too much. “Do you want me to be there?”
“It is not necessary,” he replied before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I will give you the results of the vote tonight.”
She tilted her chin to accept another kiss and then finally gave him the gift of a smile. “I wish you luck.”
It was all that she could offer him for now.
*****
Sheev did not need her at the vote, so Amne instead watched the broadcast of the last session of the day in her private office. The decision was not unanimous in favor of the emergency powers—they did not name names, but she could be sure that there were a few members of the Loyalist Committee who would have opposed this—but it was an overwhelming majority. The political commentators hailed it as an exercise in democracy and praised Representative Binks's wisdom. It was an optimistic way of things, but if it helped bolster support for Sheev, it could only help.
It was between the end of the session and Sheev’s return from the Senate that a rare call came through the household comm system for Zia. Amne had attempted to distract herself from the proceedings by making dinner and Uli was left, chopping vegetables in a distracted way.
“I bet they're reassigning us,” she guessed.
Amne had thought the same thing when she heard that the call was from the Temple. She turned the meat in the pan and added some raidu to the glaze before responding.
“What makes you say that?”
“If there's going to be a war, they'll be putting all of the field Jedi on assignment and we'll be left behind to take care of everything else,” Uli muttered. “It happened six months ago when the Jedi assigned to a peacekeeping mission on Bothawui had to help out on Ord Trasi. They were sent off and we took over making sure no one strangled each other during negotiations. Maybe we'll go off-planet again.”
“I hope not,” Amne responded. “I rather like having you two around.”
“Hold that thought,” Zia interjected as she returned to the kitchen. “Amia and I have a temporary reassignment ...”
One of Uli's lekku drooped in disappointment at being left behind in any circumstance. Zia glanced at her, but directed her comment to them both.
“The Council is sending a task force to Geonosis,” she explained. “The Jedi Order dislikes using force, but if we can capture enough of the Separatist leadership, they think it may buy the Republic enough time to negotiate a settlement.”
Making the creation of an army unnecessary.
“And what about me?” Uli asked.
“You'll be staying in the Temple for a few days,” Zia replied. “There are one hundred of us going, so we should be able to make short work of it.”
Amne heard in her tone the same kind of optimism that echoed in the earlier commentaries. If the people who had taken her had anything to do with the mainstream dissenters, this would be anything but short work.
Snatches of conversation came from the corridor. Sheev entered ten seconds later with both Vali and Michel in tow.
“You watched,” he greeted her.
“I couldn't help myself,” she responded. “Congratulations on the vote.”
He gave her a knowing look, but did not comment on it. “The Jedi Council sent over the proposed task force before I left my office and I had to approve it.”
“We were just discussing that,” Zia added. “Amia and I have been asked to go with them.”
Sheev gave her a genial smile. “I hope that you will resolve this crisis with the same diligence that you protect my wife.”
Zia returned the smile. POV shift. “Yes, Your Excellency,” she commented. “I think that won't be a problem.”
*****
Dinner was finally over and for the moment, there were no incoming comms. In the old days, they might have taken advantage of the privacy, but tonight, the mood was not appropriate for such activities. Instead, they sat in adjoining chairs and tried not to talk politics.
Eventually, after discussing travel arrangements for Vali's wedding and her schedule for the week, they gave up.
“What do you think of the Military Creation Act?” Sheev began rather bluntly.
“I think it's unnecessary,” she immediately responded. “Defense has always been a local matter, as evidenced by such things as Corellian Security and the Alderaanian Guard. If we have come to a need to protect ourselves from each other, we have not done our job.”
“That is not true,” he rejoined. “The Jedi Order would be out of work if defense had always succeeded on a local level. As it is, they are stretched too thin. Master Windu himself admits that the Jedi are not able to protect all of the Republic if it comes to a full-scale war.”
“I still think that there were alternatives to a full-scale war.”
“As do I.”
Amne blinked, caught off guard. “Is that why the Jedi are being sent to Geonosis?”
“In part,” he admitted. “They are there to forestall a war, but if it must come to the greater conflict, they will be able to assess the threat.”
The price of such an assessment would be high, and it might cost her two friends. She tactfully kept her silence.
“If you have something to say to me, it is best if you do it now rather than when there is a microphone in front of you.”
“I'm sure I'll have more to say depending on how the mission to Geonosis goes,” she said flatly. “For now, it's not my place to say anything more than what I have already told you.”
He was silent, waiting. Sheev could be remarkably patient in some situations. The tension in that silence finally gave her the courage to say what she had withheld since the vote.
“I don't think you had any reluctance about accepting the emergency powers,” she stated.
His expression remained perfectly impassive, but the air in the room seemed to change. It was an accusation of the sort she had made only once and he would remember just as clearly as she did that it had been ten years since that time.
“I thought we had outgrown that sort of suspicion,” Sheev observed in a disappointed tone.
“I thought you had outgrown your need for control,” she said. “I suspect that you have wanted this power since you learned the scale of the opposition to the Act.”
Sheev did not disagree with that. He stood and poured a glass of brandy for himself. It was nearly a minute before he spoke again, but when he did, his voice was controlled once more.
“For all my political strengths, I am a reactionary man,” he stated. “I feel the compulsion to act against my enemies when others would cry for pacifism. I am no warmonger ...”
“I never said you were,” Amne protested.
“...but while I do not believe in preemptive strikes, I believe in preparation. If my people had been given the benefit of the Grand Army of the Republic, thousands of them would not have died at the hands of the Trade Federation. An army will not just end a crisis. It will demonstrate that no enemy, foreign or domestic, will be able to threaten our citizens with impunity.”
She slumped a little, resting against the back of the chair instead of keeping herself upright. “I'm not one of your constituents,” she murmured. “I need honesty, not a speech.”
“I believe I gave you some of both,” Sheev stated. “And, to the contrary, you are my most important constituent.”
Amne sighed at the familiar refrain. He said something similar every time they disagreed significantly on a matter of policy. It was a signal that he was willing to listen to what she had to say next, but was not willing or perhaps able to act on it.
“When will the Jedi be leaving?” she asked.
“In the morning,” he supplied. “The news will break after the actual operation for security reasons.”
They were worried about the Separatists being forewarned of the attack. Of course, it was hard not to notice the departure of a hundred Jedi, but they would make the operation as covert as possible.
“I spoke to Medur Kilan today,” she commented. “He wanted to pass on his congratulations and condolences.”
“That was kind of him,” Sheev responded before finishing his brandy. “How is he?”
“Contemplating retirement as always,” she chuckled. “He offered me the chance to return as a part-time instructor.”
Her husband arched an eyebrow. “How part-time?”
“I would only be teaching the elective courses in government studies,” she explained. “Three days each week, starting next month.”
He sighed, but did not respond otherwise.
“It would give me time away from ...” Her breath hitched. “Everything here. Maybe take my mind off of things.”
“An excellent choice,” he commended. “If you believe it will help, I support the choice.”
For a moment, there, things felt as they had, before. They were both in unfamiliar territory here, but they were still able to maintain their loyalties. For now, that was enough. She rewarded him with a broad smile, and he crossed the room to her side. When he bent to kiss her, she accepted the gesture and even responded. When he pulled away, he left his hand on her cheek, steadying her.
“You're improving,” Sheev stated. “Are the Jedi really that much more powerful than I?”
She smiled at the note of teasing in his voice. “Healer Thiau has approached it from a different direction,” she answered. “Maybe what I needed was not a better course of action, but simply a different one.”
“Maybe,” he agreed.
Without further comment, he removed his hand and extended it to her instead. For the first time in days, she did not hesitate before accepting it.
Notes:
One of the purposes of editing and reposting these was to add certain touches that weren’t there in the original. For instance, here, we don’t know what species Thiau is or what he looks like. That was the sort of detail that would have been fleshed out here. Just a simple little thing that maybe doesn’t mean much to the whole story, but we all know how great Kaki was with secondary characters. All those little details add up to great writing.
Amne’s name comes from the root word amnesia. Kaki said she was supposed to be the first lady the galaxy forgot. Also, since Palpatine is Naboo, the a sound at the end of the name fits.
Here we see Amne’s latent Force sensitivity on full display.
Isn’t that THE greatest Palpatine artwork EVER? The artist is on Etsy under the name AnimaEterna.
This is a great piece of artwork tbh 🥰