Anakin awoke in Padmé's bed the next morning to a soft tap on her door. He knew who it was—Dormé, awakening the senator for her day's appointments. His wife stretched, rolled over, and gathered him into a hug, and he buried his face in her soft curls. His eyes closed, he luxuriated in the warmth of her in his arms.
Every morning since the end of the war had been delicious beyond words. Every morning he awakened to find her in his arms, and he knew what it was to be grateful.
Padmé lifted her head to kiss him. Suddenly her eyes went wide and she struggled to free herself from his grasp. Anakin immediately let her go and helped her out of bed; he had learned the hard way what happened if he didn't. She jumped to her feet and staggered for the bathroom. The doors closed behind her and he heard her retching from the other side of them.
He got up and padded to the door and tapped. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she said finally. "At least it's only in the mornings now."
Reflecting with some guilt how glad he was to be the male spouse, Anakin turned to his drawer in Padmé's bureau and started to dress.
The bedroom comm came on and Threepio's voice said, "Master Anakin, may I enter? There is an important message for you from the Chancellor's office."
"Come on in, Threepio."
The doors opened and the droid whirred in. He handed over a plastic flimsy in an envelope. "It was just messengered over," he said.
"Thank you, Threepio." Anakin waited until the droid left the room before he opened it.
The note was unsigned and written in a flowing script, obviously feminine. "Call me!" it said. "ASAP!"
Anakin glanced over his shoulder, where running water could be heard from the bathroom. Hastily he slipped into Padmé's office and keyed on her comm unit, putting in the code for the Chancellor's office.
Sereine appeared on the monitor. "Chan-Oh, it's you. Thank you for being so prompt."
Anakin glanced up from the comscreen. No one was in the hallway. "What's up?"
Sereine lowered her voice. "I got in this morning, and what do I find on the Chancellor's schedule but a trip to the Jedi Temple at midday, to address the entire Council. I'm not invited, and neither are you."
Anakin stared at her. "You're kidding. He's never done that."
"He is now. I wonder if you could get Master Kenobi to holorecord it."
"No need to do that. He'll tell me all about it."
Sereine shook her head. "Not good enough. I need to see it."
Anakin gave her a strange look, but she was already looking over her shoulder. "Can't talk, have to go," she said.
Anakin said, "I'll do what I can. See you tonight?"
"Yes."
***
"There are three aspects to the training of a Sith apprentice," said Palpatine, steepling his fingers before them. "Proficiency. An in-depth study of the history of our Order. And a plan must be made for the apprentice's own lifelong contribution to the Order. Your legacy, if you will."
Anakin glanced at Sereine, who sat in her customary place to his left. "Proficiency," he repeated.
"You will learn to direct the Dark Force consistently to the best of your ability, at will."
"And how is that accomplished?" said Sereine dubiously.
"That," said Palpatine, folding his hands on his polished desktop, "is for the ears of my apprentice. And currently, I don't have one."
Anakin heard Sereine sigh uneasily and shift in her chair. An uncomfortable silence strained his ears.
"I want to know," he said finally, "how you plan to save Padmé. I want to know that you truly can do this."
Palpatine smiled, framed by the night sky and a million pinpoint city lights. "As well you should," he said.
"Allow me to explain the situation. I am confident that it can be done; however, there is a gap in my knowledge that must be corrected in order for us to have any chance of success."
"A gap," said Sereine, flashing stern eyes at Palpatine. The Chancellor had given them no idea what had transpired at his earlier meeting with the Jedi Council, and as of yet, Anakin had had no chance to speak with Obi-Wan.
Sereine was distinctly unhappy about it. Anakin was beginning to think they did need signals. One for "just shut up" would do well right about now.
Palpatine ignored her and directed his attention to Anakin. "I know that life can be created directly from the Uncreated Force," he said. "I assisted in the creation of the tulpa that my own master achieved. Among other things." He gave Anakin a nod, although Anakin could not discern the reason. "With such knowledge, to maintain life in someone already living would seem a small matter. Unfortunately, it doesn't appear to work that way."
Sereine interrupted him again. "Obviously," she said. "Finis and I know how sick you are, and you haven't cured yourself. Or have you?"
Palpatine flashed her one of his you-really-did-tell-him-everything looks again. "Mine appears to be ... a special case. Autoimmune disease waxes and wanes by its very nature. One can be very well for months, and then suddenly quite ill. In my case, the exacerbations of my various conditions appear to be brought on by the use of the dark side ... so anything I try to make them better seems to make them worse. I have been unable to practice any healing techniques on myself.
"Count Dooku and I attempted my master's technique with General Grievous. We were less than successful working together, and you know, Anakin, how very powerful in the Force Dooku was.
"The problem appears to be that in attempting to prolong life in someone already living, you aren't pulling midichlorians from the Uncreated Mass of the Force. You are restricted to those available in that being. It should be easier than it is, and I know that I'm missing something ..." his voice trailed off. His forehead wrinkled in a frown that looked genuinely troubled.
"I have made an extensive study of Jedi healing techniques. I'm sure you know, Anakin, that they are all subsets of two basic methods. The Ashlan technique is one a Sith can use with little difficulty—but you know, Sereine, that it takes a very long time to complete. That is what Healer Lyne was using for you, and it took six months before you were completely healed. That wouldn't be suitable for a woman in childbirth. And the other—I'm afraid the other requires long practice in the other side of the Force. I'm simply not attuned to it any more ... if indeed I ever was."
"So ... you were lying to me," said Anakin slowly. "You can't save Padmé. You can't teach me to save her."
The fingers of Palpatine's left hand drummed fitfully on the desktop. "I didn't say that," he said. "There is another way.
"My master told me that there are techniques for the manipulation of midichlorians by the dark side, similar to the Bogan healing of the Jedi. However, as I've told you, everything my master failed to write down before he died, has now died with him.
"You know that I can't leave here for weeks to go to Korriban—I haven't had that luxury in many years. I have all the writings of all the Fallen Masters in my possession, and all but one of their holocrons. The information isn't there."
"But ... there are three Sith holocrons in the Jedi Temple." Anakin frowned.
Palpatine smiled. "Two of those are forgeries. Originally they weren't, but Master Dooku, before he left, was skillful enough to 'retrieve' the larger two for us."
Anakin's mouth dropped open. After a moment he shut it and said, "So you're saying that what you need is the one that isn't. And it's in the Temple archives." He put his head in his hand with a groan. "Only masters are allowed to access those. I'm sure the information must be there, because it's often said that one of the holocrons isn't nearly so dark as the other two." He looked up. "Count Dooku had access to those holocrons. He spent years studying them!"
"Unfortunately, it was the two he returned to us which garnered most of his interest."
"What are we going to do?" Anakin groaned.
"Oh, I wouldn't despair, Anakin." Palpatine turned impish eyes and a puckish smile on Sereine. "You have the perfect accomplice to help you steal it. After all, she's already stolen something once from there."
Anakin turned to stare at Sereine, who blushed furiously all the way to her hairline. It was Palpatine's turn to get the now-you've-really-done-it eyes.
"You did what?"
"It was for a good cause!" she said. "It was something Palpatine, Bail, and I worked on together, it was a one-time-only occurrence, and no, I'm not going to do it again. And Bail Organa doesn't know exactly how we procured the information that constituted our end of the deal, so don't you dare tell anyone!"
Palpatine shook his head at her with overdone concern. "Not even for Anakin's wife and baby? Shame on you, Sereiné." He pronouned it like "Padmé," with an extra syllable on the end.
"What deal?" said Anakin.
Sereine glowered at Palpatine. "Stop it," she said. "You're not using this office to kill close to a million people and being rewarded with one of your holocrons. Besides, you know they have to be under the tightest security. It's not the same thing as taking something under low security. All that was was communication records ... not a Sith holocron." She turned to Anakin. "It was a diplomatic situation we had to coerce the Jedi to intervene in. You'll notice there are injustices, such as the slavery on your homeworld, that they seem bound and determined to ignore."
Anakin thought hard. Obi-Wan could read the holocron. But in order for him to do so ..."We don't have to steal it," he said. "There's still a way ..."
But Obi-Wan would have to know why, and that Anakin could not face. "I have to ... I have to think about it," he said. "I have to think about it ..."
He turned to Sereine. "Can we stop for tonight?"
"All right, if that's what you want."
"You don't mean I'm actually going to get some sleep tonight?" mewed Palpatine.
Sereine got up. "Oh, I'll bet you sleep. I'll bet your little mind is far too busy these days for you to sleep."
Anakin had had enough. "Sereine," he said. She stopped with a guilty twitch, and Anakin saw Palpatine's curious eyes flit from her to him.
"I am a bit overemotional tonight," she said. "Perhaps I need some sleep." She strolled up to Palpatine's desk, raised her long skirts a bit, and gave him a tiny, playful curtsy. "Chancellor, I bid you good night. I apologize for my sharp tongue this evening ... and I'll see you in the morning." And with that, she swept from the room.
Palpatine stood up and chuckled softly at her retreating back. "Perhaps you should teach me your technique," he said, lifting his wheaten-silver brows conspiratorially at Anakin.
Anakin frowned. "Why did you leave her?" He just blurted it out. He never would under other circumstances, but the sudden playful atmosphere had loosened his tongue.
Palpatine bridled a little at the familiarity of the question. His mouth twitched as if he had considered answering it.
Finally he said, "I didn't leave her. She left me. For him."
"That isn't what she said."
Palpatine gave him a long, slow look, as if he were trying to ascertain exactly how much Anakin knew. At last he sobered, dropping all pretense of humor or annoyance, and gathered the velvet folds of his black robe close to him in order to move around the desk.
His gaze lowered to the floor for a lot longer than was necessary, and Anakin got the sudden feeling that whatever he said would be of no little import, to the Chancellor if not to Anakin himself. The very air felt colder.
Anakin tried reaching out gently with the Force, and found that he could feel Palpatine. The Sith was not reaching out to him, but he was not closed and hidden, either, and Anakin found that strange. He felt carefully for any emotion that could be sensed. A sort of curious blankness answered him. A sadness, perhaps?
Anakin had it now. Regret. He tried to modulate himself in the Force, to listen without alerting the Sith that he was being overheard. A difficult thing to get right-but Palpatine's sense stayed with him. Anakin expected him to close down to him any second. Why the Sith lord did not, Anakin could not quite fathom.
Palpatine started along the raised walkway that encircled the room. Anakin followed, trying to gauge the exact distance that wouldn't distract the Sith lord and remind him to shield himself.
At last Palpatine spoke. "I know I've told you that with the power of the dark side, it's possible to indeed have everything that one wants. But I have to admit to you, Anakin, that that is not quite possible." He stopped and showed the young Jedi a wan smile. "Not yet, at least." He resumed his walk, Anakin following at a respectful distance. Surely he knew Anakin was listening and aware? How could he not? But that faint tinge of regret crept into Anakin's very pores.
"At the time," said Palpatine, "there were two distinct things I wanted, and I realized that both would not occupy the same space at the same time. I was ... grounded enough to realize that I could only have one, and that I had to make a choice." The older man turned to face him, and there was a touching dignity in his expression that made Anakin think, for a chaotic moment, that it was really still three weeks ago and the past two were nothing but a dream.
"I had to make a choice," said Palpatine simply, "and I made it."
He stared solemnly at Anakin another moment, and then he turned and stepped down to make his way to the door. That remorseful sense in the Force was gone in an eyeblink. Palpatine stepped briskly along, and the past moment might not have even happened, at all.
His voice assailed Anakin's ears from across the room. "Besides, I think it's apparent that she never really loved me, after all. Sereine is a classic overachiever... never happy unless she's doing something grand on the Galactic level, and you can't get any more Galactic than this, can you?" He turned and one corner of his mouth went ironically up; the humor was back. "Controlling the Sith lord who controls the Republic? Why, she may as well have run for Chancellor herself!"
He stopped in the doorway and waited, and Anakin walked over to join him. As they crossed the threshold, Anakin put out his hand and stopped him. "If I may say, sir, I think you're wrong about Sereine."
Icy blue eyes bored into him. From his stony expression, Palpatine had taken all the personal conversation he was going to put up with for tonight.
Anakin pressed on. "Maybe you think you know her, but you don't see what I see." He remembered her threats to Valorum, and a shudder ran down his spine. "Sereine loves you more than—"
He was about to say, more than Padmé loves me, but he realized it wasn't true. Sereine loved more tenaciously, more creatively, but only because she was forced to. Please, Anakin prayed suddenly to he knew not what, let me never put my wife through this.
"Sereine loves you more than she loves anything. More than she loves him." Privately Anakin did not believe this was true, but it could be-it could be-and he had to finish the sentence with something Palpatine could understand. "Maybe it doesn't look that way to you, but I've been with her all through of this. That first night I told her, if you could only have seen—" He was going to say, "the way she cried," but he realized she might not be too pleased to know he had shared that. Besides, Palpatine could take that more than one way, anyway.
He had a sudden thought. Let Palpatine fill in the blank. If it aroused his curiosity, so much the better. "I shouldn't tell you that," he finished.
Palpatine studied him, his lined face blank.
"You don't know," said Anakin again. "You don't!"
Palpatine gazed at him a little longer, then abruptly said, "I know enough. Let it lie, Anakin. It's late." He crossed the threshold, stepped out into his darkened lobby, and turned. "Are you coming?"
Numbly, Anakin followed him out. He was pleased at his first tiny attempt to snare Palpatine, to push him back toward the good side, but he knew more deeply that it was just a front. A distraction, to turn himself away from the words he did not wish to think about.
There were two distinct things I wanted, and I realized that both would not occupy the same space at the same time.
I had to make a choice, and I made it.
Anakin was beginning to understand that he, too, had a choice to make. That he, too, wanted two things-his Jedi knighthood, and his family—that could never exist side by side. If even Darth Sidious had had to give something up, who was he to believe he would not?
He took public transport back to the Jedi Temple. He knew he would be up all night, and there was no sense in having Padmé ply him with questions.
He needed to be alone to think.