Obi-Wan Kenobi's eyes sprang open and his hand clenched around his lightsaber. He was on his feet in a flash, and from behind him he heard Padmé's voice, nervous and heavy with sleep.

"What's going on?"

Obi-Wan turned around with his finger to his lips to silence her. He pressed his thumb to his lightsaber hilt to activate it, and he stalked forward slowly. He had been ripped from his sleep by a strong feeling of danger in the Force, and as he moved through the hotel suite, he could feel that he and Padmé were not alone. Obi-Wan took a slow breath, reaching out and trying to locate the threat. He held his lightsaber up and behind his head at an sharp angle, his other hand out and seeking in the darkness. The tickle of danger started to become a burn, and Obi-Wan scowled.

"Turn the lights on, Padmé," he murmured, and a few seconds later, the suite was bathed in a delicate white light. As if cued by the light, a pair of vibrant green hands appeared around the corner near the closet. The hands clutched a heavy blaster pistol, and Obi-Wan's fingers tensed around his lightsaber. He saw the red bolt just before it appeared, thanks to his strength in the Force. When the blaster bolt hurtled through the air toward him, Obi-Wan parried it with a sharp twist of his lightsaber. He rushed forward, and the blaster fired again. Once more, Obi-Wan parried the bolt. When the red shot collided with his blue lightsaber, there was a vibrant flash of purple.

The hands clutching the heavy blaster pistol turned into an entire body as a member of the Arcona species appeared around the corner. Its wide purple eyes were cold against its triangular green head, and Obi-Wan knew at once that the creature had come to kill Padmé.

"Put the blaster down," Obi-Wan said, warning in his voice. The Arcona sneered a bit and tipped the end of its blaster up so that he was aiming over Obi-Wan's shoulder - toward Padmé, Obi-Wan knew. Obi-Wan felt a stab of panic go through his chest, and he lurched forward as the Arcona fired. He blocked yet another scarlet bolt from the blaster, and then his patience with the assassin evaporated. He shifted forward on his feet and slashed his lightsaber in a clean downward arc. The Arcona wrenched itself away, but not in time. Obi-Wan's blue blade sliced neatly through the Arcona's arm, just below the elbow.

The blaster pistol clattered to the floor, the green hand still clutching it. The Arcona assassin writhed as he grasped the place where Obi-Wan's lightsaber had cauterized the wound. Obi-Wan watched with curiosity as the creature swore and spat and stomped about. This was not exactly an experienced bounty hunter, Obi-Wan realized. Whomever had sent this creature had drawn from the dregs of their manpower.

"Move back," Obi-Wan ordered, and the Arcona scowled deeply as he eyed his severed hand on the floor. The Arcona muttered something in another language. It glared up at Padmé, who had appeared beside Obi-Wan. The Arcona staggered backward then, still cradling its stump of an arm against its chest, for Padmé had lurched forward and bent to the ground. She shocked Obi-Wan by prying the fingers of the Arcona's severed hand from the blaster pistol, which she took in her own hands. She moved back beside Obi-Wan, aiming the blaster at the Arcona. Obi-Wan granted himself a split second to marvel at Padmé's courage, and then he looked to the Arcona and met its eerie violet eyes. Obi-Wan adjusted his hold on his lightsaber, focused his strength in the Force, and said smoothly,

"You will tell me who sent you."

The Arcona's eyes glazed for a moment before he said in a stilted voice, "Jango Fett. I was sent by Jango Fett."

Obi-Wan sent another wave of influence to the Arcona through the Force and said, "You will tell me where to find this Jango Fett."

"Kamino," said the Arcona plainly. "South of the Rishi Maze. Wild Space. S-15."

"I've never heard of such a place," Padmé said skeptically from beside Obi-Wan. Neither had he, but the assassin came bearing extremely specific coordinates to find the planet. Before he could question the creature any further, however, it did something very foolish. As soon as Obi-Wan's mind trick had passed, the Arcona assassin looked wild with anger, and it heaved itself forward and reached with its remaining hand for the blaster in Padmé's hands. She gasped and fired on instinct, but the blaster bolt went soaring into the ceiling as the Arcona knocked her wrists upward.

Obi-Wan acted quickly and decisively then, because it was obvious the Arcona assassin was not here for idle chit-chat. As the green-skinned alien made another stumbling move toward Padmé, Obi-Wan arced his arm downward and leaped. His blue lightsaber plunged through the Arcona's torso from behind, stabbing it through and eliciting a gurgling shriek. Padmé staggered backward, her eyes going wide, as Obi-Wan wrenched his lightsaber from the Arcona's torso. The alien crumpled to the ground and groaned quietly, and then was silent. It was dead.

Padmé made a little sound of horror, but she still aimed the blaster pistol at the alien. After a moment, Obi-Wan met her eyes.

"Thank you," Padmé nodded seriously, and Obi-Wan frowned. His assigned duty was to protect Padmé, not to attack. And that was exactly what he'd done in eliminating the Arcona assassin, he knew. Still, the feeling of killing left a metallic taste of displeasure in his mouth. He would never like doing it. He pulled his eyes back and forth between Padmé and the dead Arcona assassin.

"We need to contact Master Yoda and the rest of the Jedi Council immediately," he said. "If an assassin managed to track you down here, there is nowhere that is truly safe. There is a much greater sense of urgency now in getting to the bottom of all this."

"Kamino," Padmé said thoughtfully, echoing the Arcona's words. "That's where we need to go."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. " We? No. You won't be going anywhere near that planet if that's where the mastermind of these assassination attempts is."

Padmé scoffed quietly and lowered the blaster pistol. "With all respect, Master Kenobi, you've been assigned to guard me, not to order me about."

"I can't protect you if you walk straight into an ambush," Obi-Wan argued, feeling a twinge of frustration in his veins. Not just frustration, he realized then. Possession, protectiveness. Attachment. Everything that was forbidden. He gulped and shut off his lightsaber, and he told her firmly, "I don't want you out of my sight until all of this is solved."

Padmé's face went very serious then, and she asked patiently, "Are you speaking as my bodyguard, or as someone else?"

Obi-Wan's breath shook through his teeth. She was right, of course. He was only worked up over all this because of how he felt about her. The Jedi Council would see straight through him if he couldn't calm himself. So he nodded and glared down at the corpse of the Arcona assassin.

"Can you go get the holotransceiver from my belt?" he asked, and Padmé stalked away. A half hour later, Obi-Wan had managed to get himself dressed into his Jedi uniform, and Padmé had put on the green gown she'd worn on Naboo. The two of them sat on the sofa in the suite's sitting area, as far removed from the dead Arcona as possible. Obi-Wan had searched the Arcona's body but had found no communication devices. Now the holotransceiver beeped on the low table before them, and a blue holographic image appeared. It was Master Yoda and Master Windu.

"Masters," Obi-Wan said smoothly. "I apologize if I've awakened you."

"Sleeping, I was not," Yoda said, brushing his stubby fingers through the air dismissively. His holo face turned to Padmé and said politely. "Senator Amidala. A problem, there is?"

"We are in Ussa, the capital city of Bellassa," Padmé explained. "We came here unannounced, to try to avoid being trailed. Somehow, an assassin still managed to track us down."

"An assassin?" Mace Windu said sharply. "Another one? What happened, Obi-Wan?"

"I was awakened by a great sense of unease. I discovered an assassin, a member of the Arcona species, already inside the Senator's hotel suite."

He chose his words carefully, trying neither to lie nor to give away the fact that he had been in bed with Padmé when he'd woken up. He could have sworn he sensed a bit of skepticism in Yoda's face, but Master Windu asked,

"Did you take the assassin into custody?"

"I was not able to do so," Obi-Wan admitted. "I severed his hand to stop the blaster fire, but he moved to attack Senator Amidala again, so I killed him."

"Before the assassin died, he informed us that he was sent by someone called Jango Fett, on a planet called Kamino," Padmé said matter-of-factly.

Mace Windu and Yoda looked at one another, and then Yoda said, "Of that planet, I have heard not."

"He gave us very specific directions to find the place," Obi-Wan said. "I think I ought to send Anakin Skywalker there, and perhaps return to Coruscant with the Senator. She needs more protection than a single Jedi Knight on a remote planet."

He heard the tightness in his own voice then, and Padmé sighed a bit beside him. Now Obi-Wan was sure he felt suspicion from both Yoda and Windu.

"Anakin is not here," Mace Windu said, and Obi-Wan felt a jolt of alarm. Windu's holo image seemed to hesitate, and then Yoda cut in,

"Gone to Tatooine, he has."

"His mother." Obi-Wan nodded slowly. Anakin had been having dreams - or premonitions, it was difficult to say - about his mother for months now. And two nights ago, Obi-Wan had felt a pulse of fear and anxiety in the Force that he knew belonged to Anakin. He'd ignored it, thinking it was either something to do with the investigation on Coruscant or the boy's lingering anger about their interaction on Naboo.

"Why he has gone, only Anakin can say," Yoda mused to Obi-Wan. "Go to Kamino to look further into the claims of this assassin you will."

"And what of Padmé?" Obi-Wan asked, shutting his eyes as soon as he realized he'd used her first name. Beside him, Padmé's hands twitched on her lap. Obi-Wan quickly clarified to Masters Yoda and Windu, "Surely it can not be the best course of action to take the Senator to an unknown planet, when apparently the person behind these assassination attempts is there?"

Yoda's holo image looked at Mace Windu's for a moment, and Obi-Wan wondered whether they were communicating in a way he could not perceive. Master Windu tipped his head and said tightly,

"Senator Amidala, the Jedi Council has no authority to dictate your movements or actions. We have been entrusted with your protection, so if you'd like to come to Coruscant, you will find refuge at the Jedi Temple. We will gladly assign a dozen guards to secluded quarters here to protect you."

"I'm very grateful for the protection I have received from the Jedi, Master Windu," said Padmé carefully. "But I think I'd prefer to go to Kamino with Master Kenobi. I want to see for myself who it is that is trying to kill me. As it is right now, I am not able to properly perform my duties as Senator, so I may as well go to Kamino."

"Killed you may be, Senator Amidala," Yoda informed her in a grave voice. "But decide your own path, you must."

"Know that the offer stands for a safe harbor at the Jedi Temple," Master Windu told her. He turned his holo face to Obi-Wan and asked, "Is your astromech droid a good pilot?"

Obi-Wan smirked and nodded. "Arfour can get a bit reckless in a crowd, but she's never crashed yet."

"Dispatch her to you we will," Yoda said, "With a lightweight shuttle. Go to Kamino, you will, unless the Senator decides that to Coruscant she would come."

"I'll keep the Council apprised of any discoveries we make," Obi-Wan promised. Then, feeling a little clench in his chest, he asked delicately, "May I request to be updated should any new information about my Padawan arrive? I do feel worry over him."

"Worry not," Yoda commanded. "On his own path, young Skywalker is. New information will we give you. May the Force be with you."

"Here it is," Padmé breathed, pointing her finger to the holomap on the little shuttle's command board. They had input the information they had from the Arcona assassin - Wild Space, south of the Rishi Maze, S-15 - and they had discovered what appeared to be a small planet covered in water. Padmé looked to Obi-Wan, who seemed more skeptical than ever as he pressed a button on his comlink and said,

"Arfour, go ahead and jump us into hyperspace. We've locked onto the location."

There was a gentle beeping through the comlink, and a moment later, Padmé felt the shuttle lurch a bit. She glanced out the viewport and watched as the stars around them morphed into shearing lines of light.

"How long will it take to get there?" Padmé asked, and Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows as he noted,

"I've never traveled anywhere so remote in the galaxy. By the map's calculation, with this shuttle's less-than-ideal hyperdrive, it will take four full days."

Padmé glanced around the cramped interior of the shuttle. The furnishings were nice enough, but it was short on space. There were three reclining chairs in front of a holovid display, and there was a small round table beneath a cabinet of dehydrated food and water rations. There was a tiny 'fresher in the corner, into which Padmé had glanced when they'd come aboard. There were three stacking bunks that folded out from the wall, and there was a small shelf of holobooks. That was it. Four days with anyone but Obi-Wan aboard a ship like this would have likely been enough to drive a person mad, but Padmé figured she would make it somehow.

"I wish you would have let me take you to Coruscant," she heard him say gruffly, and she turned to face him. Obi-Wan folded his arms and touched his beard, looking thoughtful. "Masters Yoda and Windu sensed something was off. I could feel it; I could see it. Aside from the matter of your safety - which is a profound matter indeed - it would have been wise to split up, probably."

Padmé flicked her eyes out the transparisteel viewport and noted, "Too late for all that perseveration now, Master Kenobi. I'm highly trained with a blaster, and you've got your lightsaber. We've already agreed on my alias and disguise. Besides, I'm safer beside you than anywhere else in the galaxy, and -" She paused then, for Obi-Wan had winced as though he were in physical pain. Padmé reached up to touch his hand, and she asked gently, "What's wrong?"

"Anakin." Obi-Wan huffed out a sigh and paced a few steps as he said, "Whatever he's doing on Tatooine, it isn't good."

"Don't you have any way to contact him?" Padmé asked, unable to believe that Anakin would have gone somewhere without a communications device of some kind. But Obi-Wan shook his head and insisted,

"He doesn't want me to contact him. I can feel that very plainly. Still… I do hope he's all right."

Padmé nodded. No matter how Anakin's attentions upon their reunion had displeased her, she would always have a soft spot in her heart for the little boy she'd met all those years ago. And it was clear that Obi-Wan thought of Anakin almost like a son, and that he was pained to think of the boy being in trouble now.

"I don't like the feeling of coming between you and Anakin, you know," Padmé noted seriously. She moved to sit in one of the reclining chairs, arranging her feather-light black skirts about her. "You two are the only family the other has ever had, it seems. I dislike the sensation of being an interloper. And I don't want to get you into trouble with the Jedi Council."

"If I get myself into trouble with the Jedi Council, that will be my own doing. Not yours," Obi-Wan said. He sat in one of the chairs beside Padmé and dragged his fingers through his hair. His blue eyes looked so very tired, Padmé realized. He hadn't slept at all since he'd thwarted the assassin in the hotel suite, and that had now been about thirty-six hours ago. Padmé pulled herself from her chair and went to stand in front of Obi-Wan. He parted his knees and looked up at her, his hand still on his head as though he had a pounding headache.

"You need to rest," Padmé instructed him, sounding a bit like her sister did when she chastised her children. Padmé put a hand on either side of Obi-Wan's face and leaned down to kiss his forehead. He sighed as she did it, and Padmé whispered, "There's no danger here in hyperspace, and I'm not out of your sight. Just like you insisted. So go ahead and rest."

"If I close my eyes, then you will be out of my sight," Obi-Wan said. Padmé smirked at him. He always had a rebuttal, didn't he? She leaned down again, intending to kiss his cheek, but Obi-Wan caught her jaw in his hand and pulled her lips to his. Padmé felt a shock go through her, as if she'd been struck by lightning. She kissed him for a long moment, feeling his tongue explore her mouth with an unexpected sense of urgency. Obi-Wan's hands went to the embroidered bodice of her dress, and they pulled her forward a few inches. Padmé moved on instinct then, putting a knee on either side of Obi-Wan's thighs on the armchair.

She settled onto his lap and snaked her arms around his shoulders, kissing him again as Obi-Wan grunted quietly against her mouth. His fingers moved to her back and fumbled a bit with the ties there, and he pulled his lips from hers long enough to complain,

"Senator, may I ask why it is you constantly feel the need to wear such deliberately difficult-to-remove clothing? A part of me wonders if you do it to torture me, but I know you are not that cruel."

Padmé laughed a little and whispered, "I'm surprised that a Jedi Knight can not use the Force to solve this problem."

One of his red-gold eyebrows shot up, and he smirked. "What a marvelous idea. I can see why they say you've a mind for strategy."

Padmé tried not to giggle as his hands flattened on her back and his forehead pressed against hers. Her amusement turned to wonder, though, when she felt a sort of vibration against her skin. Then she was aware of the ties down the bodice loosening, the knots giving way, as if the fabric was subject to Obi-Wan's will. It probably was subject to Obi-Wan's will, she realized with a shock. For some reason, that made her want him more badly than ever, and as he wrenched the bodice from her, she ground her hips down hard and kissed his mouth again.

His hands cupped her breasts once he'd divested her of her bodice, and Padmé moaned a little at the feel of him squeezing her there. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, and he moved his kiss to her neck. It was all enough to make Padmé very, very dizzy, and she reached to hold onto his arms. One of his hands went between them and hiked up Padmé's gauzy black skirts. She knew what he wanted, so she helped him with the awkward logistics. In a few moments, his hard cock had been pulled from his taupe trousers, and Padmé's underwear had been shoved aside. She sank onto him, hissing and moaning at the feel of him filling her. It was a messy connection between them, with both of them almost fully clothed. But in that way, it felt more forbidden than ever, and Padmé nearly lost herself at once.

She held Obi-Wan's arms for support as she bobbed up and down. The chair was cramped, which only shoved them more closely together, and his tunics rubbed at her bare breasts as she moved. His hands were on her hair, on her face, on her back. Everywhere. He kissed her lips and then her neck again as she rocked her hips. The feeling of him, warm and hard and thick, inside her body was so overwhelming that Padmé held her breath and saw lights before her eyes. Then she felt Obi-Wan's hand on her cheek and heard him whisper,

"Padmé, believe it or not, this act does not negate the human need for air. Breathe."

She laughed at that, which forced her to take in a breath. The dizziness faded and was overtaken by the feeling that she was about to fall from a cliff. The grinding between them was pushing her nearer and nearer the edge, along with the feel of Obi-Wan's lips on her neck and his hand on her breast. She jerked her hips a few times as everything exploded in her head. There was heat and ringing in her ears, and she was clenching around him, and then she couldn't move her hips anymore. Distantly, she registered the feel of him pulsing inside of her and heard his voice groan helplessly.

Padmé leaned onto Obi-Wan's shoulder, unwilling to pull their bodies apart. They were sticky and he was going soft inside of her, but she found it very peaceful just to be cradled in his arms in the too-small chair.

"They saw right through me," she heard him say again, and he sighed deeply. He was talking about Master Yoda and Master Windu, she knew, and he was probably very worried about the consequences he would face. Padmé brushed her hand up and down his arm and kissed his jaw, and Obi-Wan sucked in air before he murmured, "If it was only this , Padmé, it wouldn't be so bad. If it was only your body that I loved."

Padmé felt her heart jump at that last word, and she shut her eyes against his chest. Obi-Wan's trembling fingers stroked at her cheek, and he kissed her forehead as he said,

"But it isn't just your body that I love, is it? It's all of you - your mind, and your spirit. If I could keep myself from loving you, it wouldn't be bad. But I can't. I'm not strong enough to fight you off, and I don't much want to do it, anyway."

"I love you, too, Obi-Wan," Padmé whispered, feeling a bit sleepy. She listened to Obi-Wan's heart through his Jedi tunics, and then after a moment she heard him say,

"You go take the first turn in the 'fresher, then. If I haven't fallen asleep by the time you get out, I'll go next. We'll see whether cleanliness or fatigue wins this time."

Anakin Skywalker didn't know what he'd been expecting to find on Tatooine. He certainly hadn't been expecting for Watto to tell him that he'd sold his mother, and he hadn't expected to discover that the man who had bought his mother had married her. And he hadn't expected to set off from a moisture farm in search of a horde of Tuskens with such a profound pit in his stomach.

Now he padded over some sand as he come across a hideous scene. There was the skeleton of a speeder, charred and smoking. There were three farmers' bodies, mutilated and starting to stink. This was the work of Tuskens. Anakin shut his eyes, calling forth every meditative technique Master Obi-Wan had taught him. He needed to be calm if he was going to find his mother.

He breathed in and out again, feeling the hot desert air fill his lungs. He pushed his anxiety out with his breath and reached out in the Force. There was a stab of pain that he knew was his mother's, and Anakin's eyes sprang open.

"Mom," he whispered, his voice cracking in a childish way that might have embarrassed him, had there been anyone to hear. He turned back and looked at the dead farmers. There was no time to bury them now. He would have to come back for them. He hopped aboard the speeder bike he'd brought, and he rode until the desert was bathed in moonlight. Eventually he came to a little oasis with huts and fires speckled around it. Anakin knew that this was a Tusken camp, and he could feel his mother's presence within it. He gulped and hopped off his speeder, pulling his lightsaber from his belt but holding off on igniting it. He stalked through the camp, searching and trying not to cry like a small child.

As he walked, he remembered the way Shmi Skywalker had always been gentle and caring, warm and kind. Even when little Anakin had disobeyed her, or when he'd broken something, Shmi's eyes had always been comforting. Anakin had almost forgotten exactly what those eyes looked like, after ten years away, until his awful dreams started. Then he'd seen his mother's eyes too clearly, clenching and going wide as someone tortured her.

When he found her tied to a rack inside a hut, Anakin realized that his worst nightmares had not adequately prepared him. His mother was bleeding and bruised, her body weak and thin after weeks of abuse. He cradled her head and whispered to her, and Shmi's eyes cracked open through crusted blood. Then he saw it - the warm look a mother reserved for her child - and Anakin's eyes flowed with tears.

"Ani?" Shmi's voice was a shadow of what Anakin remembered it being, but her bleeding lips curled up into a little relieved smile. "My Ani… is it really you?"

"Shh… Mom, I'm here. I've got you. I'm going to get you out of here, and everything is going to be fine." Anakin nodded with an confidence that he didn't really feel. Shmi's eyes shut for a moment, and then opened as she murmured,

"Ani, you've grown so handsome."

"Hold on, Mom. Don't waste your strength on words, now. I'm going to -"

"I am so proud of you ," Shmi interrupted him, just like she'd always done. Her shaking, skeletal hand reached up to cup Anakin's face, and suddenly he couldn't talk or think straight. His mother was all he'd had as a boy on this desolate waste of a planet. Now he could feel her imprint in the Force weakening and fraying. She was dying, right here in his arms, and there was nothing he could do for her. Shmi's eyes fell closed, and her voice was a raspy little whisper as she said, "I always knew… I would see you again. And now, I can sleep."

"No, Mom. Don't sleep. Stay awake with me, all right? I'm going to…" Anakin's voice trailed off when he felt a little snap in the Force. The thread that had been binding Shmi to this life had broken. He shook her gently, but it was no use. His mother was gone.

"Mom? We have to go. I have to get you home," Anakin whispered, a part of his brain knowing that she couldn't hear him, and another part denying that reality. But Shmi was utterly limp in his arms, and when he set her gently on the ground, he swiped at his eyes and murmured, "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, Mom."

Suddenly Anakin wished that Obi-Wan was here with him. With his mother gone, his Jedi Master was the only family he had left in the entire galaxy. Even with the betrayal Anakin had perceived from Obi-Wan on Naboo, he would have given anything just now to hear his master's calm voice. Instead, he was alone, rocking back and forth on the dusty floor of the hut with his lightsaber in his hand.

Over the next several hours, a seething rage began to develop inside of Anakin's chest. He had heard many times, from Master Yoda and from Obi-Wan Kenobi, that a Jedi must be able to suppress anger before it flamed out of control. Anger, when left unchecked, could lead to the Dark Side. This Anakin knew. But he also knew that, tonight, he was powerless against the rage inside of him. It grew and grew as he stared at his mother's face and studied the marks the raiders had left on her. He staggered toward the door of the hut, his lightsaber gripped in his fingers, and he whispered again,

"I'm sorry, Mom."

When he burst through the door of the hut, the two Tusken guards on the other side exclaimed and took up their weapons. They weren't fast enough. Anakin's blue lightsaber ignited in a flash that sheared through the night sky. The guards fell quickly, slashed across their chests with elegant, practiced strokes. Anakin felt more angry than ever, and he rushed out into the camp.

Anakin, stop! No, Anakin! It was the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn, clear and strong in Anakin's head as though the ghost of Obi-Wan's master was watching in horror from beyond the grave. Anakin ignored the voice, and indeed it only served to egg him on.

The next few minutes were a great blur of violence. The first Tuskens to fall were the ones who actively resisted the intruder with the lightsaber. The next ones picked up the weapons of the dead raiders and tried to defend themselves against Anakin. That was no use; he struck them down left and right with hacking swings of his blade. By the time the remaining villagers focused their efforts on fleeing the slaughter, Anakin was intoxicated by the act of killing. It felt good, in its own way, in the wake of his grief. It was, at the very least, cathartic. He could not think just now about the consequences of what he was doing, or the deeper meaning behind it. All he knew was that there was an inherent satisfaction in slicing his lightsaber over the back of a Tusken woman and watching her crumple to the ground with her child in her arms. There was something almost amusing about using the Force to raise a boulder and drop it onto a hut full of Tuskens, crushing them all. There was something deeply satisfying about it, and Anakin could not be disturbed about it right now.

"Obi-Wan, you have been pacing for an hour. In case you haven't noticed, there isn't much room to pace. You're exhausting me. Please tell me what is going on." Padmé sighed exasperatedly and tossed the holobook she'd been reading down onto her table. She stood and walked the three steps to Obi-Wan, putting her hands on his elbows and demanding again, "What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan finally stopped moving, and his face was grave as he mumbled, "Anakin has done something terrible."

He knew this to be true because an hour or so earlier, he'd felt a sudden tearing of agony in the Force. Obi-Wan was well tuned to Anakin, even over long distances, after ten years of serving as his mentor. When the gash of pain had come through to Obi-Wan, he had felt a sudden protective urge to go find his Padawan. But Anakin was a man grown now, he knew. Whatever was happening to him was his load to bear. Then there was the throbbing rage and flashes of satisfaction that had come through the Force, and Obi-Wan knew it wasn't just things happening to Anakin. There was violence happening, somewhere on Tatooine, at the hands of his pupil.

"Maybe we should take the ship out of hyperdrive and reverse course," Padmé mused. She seemed to be reading the discomfort on Obi-Wan's face, and she said seriously, "I know he's like a son to you. Like a brother."

Obi-Wan wanted to tell her that, yes, Anakin was all of that, but she meant just as much right now. The thought of saying such a thing alarmed him, though, and his mouth fell open without saying a word. Finally, he shook his head and insisted,

"We are less than an hour from leaving hyperspace and approaching Kamino. We haven't come this far for nothing."

Padmé sighed and walked to stand by the little round table. She drummed her fingers on its surface and seemed to be considering something. While she did, Obi-Wan studied her a bit. She'd already put on the simple disguise they hoped would be versatile enough for a few scenarios. It was a heavy velvet tunic in emerald green, beneath which Padmé wore tan breeches and a pair of brown boots. Depending on who they encountered, Obi-Wan planned on introducing her as his student, his servant, or his wife.

"You need to be prepared for someone to kill me on this planet," Padmé said, suddenly jarring Obi-Wan from his observation. He scowled and shook his head.

"No, I don't. I won't allow such a thing to happen."

"Obi-Wan," she said gravely, "For all you know, we're heading into a complete ambush. It was clear that the assassin sent to Bellassa was inexperienced, and he gave up information about Kamino far too easily. Someone wants us to find this planet. Someone involved in the assassination attempts."

Obi-Wan pinched his lips and said defensively, "I do not sense a trap in this. Genuinely, I do not."

"I hope you're right," Padmé nodded. "But you need to be all right with the idea of not blocking one blaster bolt, and it hitting me in the chest, and me -"

"Stop it, Padmé!" Obi-Wan's tone was sharp, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. His heart had begun to race from the imagery of what she was describing. He sniffed lightly and stepped over to her, taking her face in his hands and saying seriously, "I am not going to let anything like that happen to you. I promise."

Even as he said it, he knew he could not promise such a thing. Padmé knew it, too. She put her hands over his on her cheeks and flashed him a sad little smile.

"I am not afraid," she insisted. "And I do trust you. Please just reassure me that if something happens to me, you won't do anything rash. Nothing like what you've sensed from Anakin."

He knew what she meant. There was a very good reason the Jedi Order prohibited emotional relationships. Anakin's love for his mother had sent him all the way back to Tatooine and into some kind of mess. Now Obi-Wan had managed to fall in love with Padmé, and she was afraid that he would do something stupid if she died. It wasn't an irrational thing for her to suggest, though of course Obi-Wan hoped he would have the discipline and training to handle such a nightmare scenario properly.

He couldn't promise to keep her alive, and he couldn't promise to behave rationally if she died, either. It wasn't exactly an ideal way to walk into the unknown.

The fetus was a curled, wrinkled little thing, pink and squirming. In its cannister of protective fluid, it jerked at random times, as though it had the hiccups. Perhaps it did, Padmé thought. She struggled to contain her horror, to act as the 'noblewoman from Coruscant' that the Jedi Knight was escorting when he'd been detoured to Kamino.

Clones. An entire army of clones, and ostensibly for the Republic. This was terrifying, Padmé thought, and fascinating at the same time. Her eyes moved from the fetus in the tube up the shaft of matching transparisteel canisters. Hundreds and hundreds of growing humans in the same phase of development were visible, and Padmé tried not to ogle.

"If you will come this way," she heard Lama Su say. The Prime Minister of Kamino was lean, lithe, and very tall, just like all the others of his species that Padmé and Obi-Wan had seen thus far. Lama Su's strides were so long that Padmé had to trot to keep up as they followed him from the corridor. Padmé stole a glance to Obi-Wan, the first time since they'd arrived that she was able to read his face. His eyes were wide with confusion and amazement as he looked back at her.

They'd come here to track down a bounty hunter, but instead they had found an army of clones. It was bizarre, to say the least, and profoundly unexpected. Padmé could not help but wonder if this was part of why the inexperienced assassin on Bellassa had so easily given them the directions to Kamino. Someone wanted them to discover this army of clones that had apparently been ordered by a dead Jedi Master years earlier.

Padmé and Obi-Wan were shown a classroom of diligently working, uniformly disciplined students. They all looked identical, and they all looked to be about ten years old. But Obi-Wan asked from beside Padmé,

"You mentioned growth acceleration?"

"Of course," Lama Su replied smoothly. "Without the growth acceleration, an army would take a lifetime to mature. Instead, the batches we began ten years ago are now fully ready for combat. Now, would you care to examine the final product so that you can give your approval prior to delivery?"

Padmé felt her lip curl up with disgust. The verbiage being used to describe these clones was unsettling. These humans, identical though they were, had been mass-manufactured as in a factory and were nothing more than meat for the grinder of war. It was disturbing. The terrible tour proceeded through a commissary filled with young men about the same age as Anakin Skywalker, at least in appearance. They all picked up their forks in exactly the same way, seeming focused on the mundane task of eating.

"You'll find they are very obedient," Lama Su said proudly. "Naturally, their genetics have been altered to take away some of the tendencies toward individualism we found in the original."

"The original?" Padmé repeated. She was not meant to play diplomat now, but she could stay silent no longer. "Who's the original."

"A bounty hunter called Jango Fett," said Lama Su. "He lives here, but has the freedom to come and go as he wishes."

Padmé felt as though a cold metal spike had been driven through her stomach. She struggled to swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. Jango Fett - the name the assassin on Bellassa had given them. Were the assassination attempts all a ploy to get her and Obi-Wan here to Kamino, to get this army discovered? Or was it all just a bizarre series of coincidences?

"I should like to meet with this Jango Fett myself," Obi-Wan said, surprising Padmé. She flicked her eyes between him and Lama Su. The female Kaminoan who had greeted them when they'd arrived, Taun We, said obediently,

"I will be very happy to arrange that for you."

Taun We glided off. Padmé and Obi-Wan were taken to a balcony overlooking a rainy parade ground, where hundreds of thousands of the clone troopers moved in perfectly disciplined harmony. Padmé was more horrified than ever. She had worked hard in the Senate to oppose the creation of an Army of the Republic. This was precisely why. These humans that stood below her were not made to read or to create art or even to defend anything. They were made as war chattel, and with their existence known, war would be inevitable.

"Into custody, bring this Jango Fett," said Master Yoda over the holo transmission. Obi-Wan turned his eyes to Padmé and then back to Arfour's holo display as Yoda continued, "Question him, we will. Upon your journey back, sedate him you must… for the Senator's safety."

"Yes, Master. I will report back when I have him in custody. Arfour, cut the transmission."

R4's holo display vanished, and Obi-Wan turned to look pointedly at Padmé. She nodded back to him and said solemnly,

"The most important thing right now is determining the origin and implications of this clone army. The entire galaxy's political stability is at stake, Obi-Wan, and you know it. This is about much more than my life, or attempts on my life."

Obi-Wan had very reluctantly left Padmé in the guest quarters that they'd been given when he'd gone to meet with Jango Fett. It had seemed extremely unwise to put Padmé's face before the bounty hunter. That turned out to be a fair suspicion; Obi-Wan now strongly believed that he had encountered Jango Fett on Coruscant the night that someone had shot the changeling assassin with a dart to silence her. How all these disparate pieces fit together - the bounty hunter chasing Padmé being the base clone for an army - Obi-Wan still could not say. He could feel, though, that neither he nor Padmé were safe on this planet.

"Get behind the ship, Padmé!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, and Padmé dashed around the edge of the light shuttle on which they'd come. The rain lashed the landing pad fiercely, and she was soaked to the bone as Arfour tootled up alongside her. Arfour gave a worried little moan of beeps, and Padmé murmured,

"I'm sure he'll be all right."

She didn't know that for certain, and she became far less sure when she saw the way Jango Fett was firing a blaster pistol at Obi-Wan. His lightsaber deflected every bolt; he moved surely and confidently across the landing pad. His feet were nimble and his arm moved as though he had a half-second warning for each blaster bolt. It was an elegant pavane, light against light on the stormy night sky.

A little flicker of movement at the corner of Padmé's field of vision distracted her from the sight. She squinted in the darkness in the direction of the other ship on the landing pad. Through the transparisteel in front of the ship, Padmé could see the figure of what seemed like a child. Then, rather horrifyingly, she saw the shaft of the ship's laser cannon moving toward Obi-Wan.

"Look out, Obi-Wan!" Padmé screamed, as ferociously as she could. "Behind you! In the ship!"

Obi-Wan whirled over his shoulder, and then he was soaring hard to his right to get out of the cannon's range. Meanwhile, Jango Fett continued to fire at him, and he had to slash almost blindly to block the bolts as he ran across the landing pad. Suddenly Padmé had an idea. She glanced down at the small blaster pistol she'd brought for herself from their shuttle. She ensured that it was set to Stun, so that the shot she was about to take would not be lethal. Then she held up the pistol, rising just enough to aim around the wing of the shuttle where she'd taken refuge. Arfour booped worriedly, but as Padmé trained her weapon, she said quietly,

"Don't worry, Arfour. I'm just looking out for Master Kenobi."

Then she fired. A blue ring of light shot through the darkness and hit Jango Fett square in the chest. His entire body glowed blue for a moment, and then he crumpled down into a motionless heap. He was incapacitated, not dead, but it would buy Obi-Wan enough time to get him aboard their shuttle and sedate him.

Obi-Wan had noticed the child up in the other ship, though, and he was making his way toward that ship now. He was shouting something in the rain, probably for the child to come down from the cockpit, but Padmé couldn't hear him over the wind. Her eyes were so focused on what Obi-Wan was doing that she missed the way Jango Fett had staggered to his feet and was moving slowly across the landing pad. Obi-Wan didn't miss it, probably able to feel the danger behind him in the Force. He turned round, as incredulous as Padmé that the bounty hunter's body had overwhelmed the Stun bolt Padmé had fired.

So this was why he'd been chosen as the basis for the clones, then.

Obi-Wan managed to kick Jango Fett's blaster from his hands once they got close, and Jango seemed to be struggling against the lasting effects of Padmé's blaster bolt. But the fight that ensued had Padmé genuinely worried. She had never seen Obi-Wan move like this, not even years earlier on Naboo. His hands and arms were flying, contacting Jango's armor and being met with punishing strikes. The men grappled fiercely and seemed evenly matched. Every left hook was met with an expert duck; every snap-kick was met with a striking, twisting arm. Padmé stepped out from where she hid behind the wing of the shuttle, gripping her blaster pistol more tightly as she wondered whether she could get another clean shot.

Before she could think any more about that, her blaster pistol had been knocked roughly from her hands. Padmé gasped and watched as a rain-soaked child picked up her blaster from the ground and stumbled back a few steps. The little boy from the other ship's cockpit - the little clone Obi-Wan had said was called Boba - pointed the blaster at Padmé. His fingers dexterously flicked at the switch on the side, changing it to a Kill setting. Padmé's eyes went wide and she raised her hands as Arfour made a screaming sound beside her.

"Hold on, Arfour," Padmé commanded, and she tried to ignore the way Obi-Wan and Jango were still fighting halfway across the landing pad. She turned her face to the boy, to the end of the blaster, and she said with feigned calm, "You don't want to kill me, Boba."

"How do you know?" the boy spat, his face twisting into an ugly expression of hatred that made his youth dissolve away. Boba turned his face while keeping the blaster pointed at Padmé, and he shrieked, "Hey, Jedi! I'm gonna shoot your girlfriend!"

The taunt was successful in drawing Obi-Wan's face away from Jango Fett for a half second. That was all it took, and Jango seized the momentum. He and Obi-Wan were right on the edge of the platform, and in the half-second of Obi-Wan's distraction, Jango struck. He kicked Obi-Wan so hard in the chest that the Jedi Knight went careening off the edge. Padmé screamed in horror at the sight of him plunging toward the churning sea below. She started to run to him, but Boba Fett's little voice insisted,

"Stay where you are. I won't hesitate."

The confidence with which the boy spoke was frightening, and Padmé stilled her steps. She felt her eyes burning as she watched Jango Fett methodically peel Obi-Wan's fingers from the edge of the platform. She whimpered when she saw Obi-Wan slide down the metal skirting of the platform toward the sea. Jango Fett came dashing back across the platform, and he shouted at his 'son,'

"Get into the ship, Boba!"

"But the lady! Don't you think we should -"

"No time! Go! Go , Boba!" Jango snatched Boba's arm in his hand and dragged the child up toward his ship. The bounty hunter spared one glance toward Padmé, and she wondered why he didn't take Boba's blaster and shoot her. He had been contracted to make sure she was dead. Why couldn't he take a half second now and see that through? Her confusion and horror were compounded when Jango and Boba abruptly took off in their shuttle. It sailed up into the air and angled away from the landing pad, leaving Padmé bathed in light and wind as she crouched on the ground, sobbing.

"Stand up, Padmé. We need to go."

Obi-Wan panted where he stood in the sheets of rain, struggling to catch his breath after the long and vigorous fight. He'd managed to make his way to one of the landing pad's pylons once he'd been sent into the sea by Jango Fett. It was only through his strength in the Force that he'd managed to scramble back up and to dance his way along the structure's underbelly until he found an unskirted edge. Obi-Wan was more thankful now than ever for the physical training he'd received as a Jedi. Still, he was tired. He had tried to hurl a tracking device at the hull of the Slave I , the ship on which Jango and Boba Fett had escaped, but he hadn't succeeded.

Padmé turned over her shoulder at the sound of Obi-Wan's voice. She seemed shocked to see him alive, and he could hardly blame her. He had very nearly died just now, though of course near-death experiences were part and parcel of life as a Jedi. Padmé staggered to her feet and threw herself against Obi-Wan, her arms cinching around his sopping tunics as she exclaimed,

"Oh, I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead."

Obi-Wan scoffed lightly. "And here I was the one being warned not to overreact in the case of your death."

Padmé pulled back and flashed him a look that was almost angry. "Of course I would be upset if you died," she said defensively. She shrugged, her face streaming with a mix of tears and pelting rain. "I love you."

"And I you, but unfortunately we've no time for maudlin, rain-soaked assurances of mutual love just this moment," Obi-Wan said sharply. He reached his hand out and stared at the spot on the platform where he'd dropped his lightsaber, and he summoned it using the Force. It shot into his hand, and Obi-Wan tucked it into his belt. "Arfour, prepare the shuttle to depart immediately. We're going back to Coruscant."

"Home sweet miniature shuttle," Obi-Wan mused sardonically as he stepped away from the cockpit. Arfour had just jumped them into hyperspace, and it would be another long journey to get from the reaches of Wild Space back to Coruscant, at the center of the galaxy. "I must confess, I did not expect to be back aboard this ship so quickly, and I'm disappointed that we're headed back to Coruscant empty-handed. We need more information about who hired Jango Fett to kill you."

"You still think it was him?" Padmé asked, her voice skeptical. Obi-Wan watched her shiver in her heavy velvet tunic, which was soaked through from the rain on Kamino. He frowned and said,

"It seems a bizarre coincidence that the same man should be enlisted to serve as the alpha clone in a commissioned army and also be recruited to kill you. I admit I can not see the binding threads in it all, but I do think it is the same man."

"Honestly, Obi-Wan, I thought you were dead when I saw you go sliding down the edge of that platform. It was awful," Padmé said. She surprised Obi-Wan with her lack of self-consciousness then, peeling her soaked velvet tunic from her torso to reveal the wet undershirt that clung translucently to her skin. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and looked away, feeling an almost overwhelming spike of arousal at the sight.

"And what would you have done, had I indeed been dead?" He asked thoughtfully. "When I walked over to you, you were crouched on the ground crying without your blaster pistol in your hand."

Padmé huffed, and Obi-Wan flicked his eyes to her. She perched on the edge of one of the armchairs and yanked her boots from her feet. "I'm sorry to have disappointed you with my lack of combat prowess, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan felt chilled, too, so he carefully pulled off his wet brown robe and placed it on the back of the co-pilot's chair in the cockpit. He started removing his tunics, and they joined his robe on the back of the chair.

"There's a sonic washer on the wall near the 'fresher," Padmé said. "I'll put these things in there to get clean and dry. I'll dry trousers and underthings next."

Obi-Wan did not protest, and she gathered up her their tunics and his robe and balled them in her arms. He thought about making a snarky remark about 'respect for the Jedi uniform,' like they'd done on Naboo, but his throat had gone tight. She was very beautiful, he thought, with her hair falling in wet tendrils about her face.

"Anakin has left Tatooine," he informed her, feeling as though she ought to know. She raised her face to him as she shut the sonic washer and pressed the button to activate it. She shoved a few of the wet curls from her eyes and asked,

"You know… because you felt it in the Force?"

She didn't understand what it meant to be Force-sensitive. Not really. She could intellectualize it, like she could intellectualize everything else. But Padmé could not understand exactly what Obi-Wan had felt when he'd realized Anakin had done something awful on Tatooine, nor what he'd felt the night that Padmé had used her hands on herself on Naboo. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and said carefully,

"I think he's going back to Coruscant. We will probably see him there."

"Well, I hope we do. Then you can find out what's been going on with him," Padmé said matter-of-factly. She drummed her fingers on the lid of the sonic washer, still shivering in her wet undershirt, and she murmured, "What will they do to you?"

Obi-Wan didn't have to ask her what she meant. She had been there when he'd used her first name in the holo conversation with Masters Windu and Yoda. She had seen the way they had tensed, the way Master Yoda's eyes had narrowed with suspicion. Obi-Wan sighed.

"Some sort of exile, probably. Another border dispute mission, or suppressing piracy in the Outer Rim. Something very far away from you, for a long enough time for me to meditate and repent. Enough space and time for the two of us to move on from this silly little liaison. That's what they'll do."

Padmé looked a bit hurt then, and Obi-Wan felt a throb of regret from her in the Force. She blinked quickly, obviously trying to mask the way her eyes had glazed with tears.

"Is that what this is?" she whispered. "A silly little liaison. Tell me that's all it is, and I'll feel so much better. Tell me that it's only because of physical proximity and too much time together."

Obi-Wan lowered his head. "I should like very much to tell you that's all it is. But it isn't. Not for me, anyhow."

He turned to look out the viewport, at the stars that whizzed past in the blur of hyperspace. He shut his eyes and said,

"I'm breaking every rule that's ever been taught to me, and I can not stop. I'm not too proud to admit I'm ashamed."

"Well. I'm very sorry," Padmé said from behind him, her voice making Obi-Wan shiver even more than the air on his damp skin. "And I shall be very sad if I never see you again. But your life is… is so much bigger than me, and -"

Obi-Wan whirled around, stalking the few steps to Padmé and taking her shoulders in his hands. She seemed surprised by his abrupt sense of urgency. Obi-Wan stared straight into her eyes, a wild and desperate idea coming into his head. He waved his fingers in front of Padmé and said in a grave tone,

"You don't love me. I'm just your bodyguard."

Padmé glared at his hand and then scowled up at him. "What are you doing?"

Obi-Wan hadn't really thought it would work, but he had no better option. Jedi mind tricks only worked on the weak-minded, and Padmé was anything but weak-minded. Still, Obi-Wan was desperate to make her forget what had built up between them. He summoned all his strength in the Force, coiling it in his abdomen and pushing it toward Padmé as he said more stoutly,

"You do not love me, Senator Amidala. You barely know me. I am just your -"

"Obi-Wan, stop it !" Padmé snatched Obi-Wan's hand from the air, curling her fingers tightly around his. Her face was angry and offended as she shivered in her wet undershirt and breeches. She huffed out a breath and said indignantly, "I deserve better than that, don't you think?"

"My job is to protect you," Obi-Wan said, feeling his eyes sear. He hadn't cried in years. It had been at least since Qui-Gon Jinn's death, and maybe even before that. But his eyes burned now with the alien sensation, and Obi-Wan lowered his face.

It had been drilled into Obi-Wan Kenobi from a very early age that the Jedi did not fall in love, and so he had thought himself immune to it. He'd lusted after a few lithe female bodies in his day, and he'd admired a great many people's intelligence and wit. But the lust and the admiration had never tangled in such a way as to create love inside him. Not until Padmé. He shook his head and tried to speak, finding himself wholly unable to do so.

"Just kiss me, will you?" Padmé asked in a shaking voice. "Before the choice to do so is taken from you?"

Obi-Wan raised his eyes to hers, and in her face he perceived a strange mix of emotion. It was as though she was grieving a person on their deathbed. She had accepted, he could see, that the Jedi Council would put an end to their affair. But in the little time they had before reaching Coruscant, she wanted one last taste of him.

Something almost frighteningly feral came over Obi-Wan then. He seized Padmé's face in his hands and crushed her mouth with his. He kissed her like he was a starving man being nourished at last. She tasted sweet, he thought distantly. She tasted warm, but she was still shivering in her wet undershirt. Obi-Wan's fingers clawed anxiously at the back of her shirt, and he muttered against her lips,

"Have you ever worn clothing that was easy to remove, Senator?"

Suddenly a few of the threads on the shirt gave way, and Obi-Wan realized he'd torn the fabric in his haste to undress her. He froze, and Padmé giggled up at him.

"It isn't exactly my most fashionable clothing. Go ahead, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan smirked good-naturedly and ripped a bit more at the back of the shirt. The sound and feel of the material giving way was oddly erotic, and he huffed out a breath as he pressed his forehead down to Padmé's.

"What a strangely satisfying thing to do," he mused, "to be so destructive in the pursuit of you."

Padmé laughed again, and a good bit of their earlier unease dissolved. Soon enough they were both wriggling from their wet trousers, and Padmé stood before Obi-Wan, naked and resplendent. She still shivered a bit, and on instinct, Obi-Wan brushed his hands over her and called forth a skill he didn't use very often.

Tapas, the ability to use the Force to remain warm in a cold environment, was a survival skill Obi-Wan had been taught when he was a young Padawan. Now he used the skill to warm Padmé. He willed the Force to calm her shivering, to fill her veins with warmth. Padmé stared up at him, seemingly amazed as she realized what he was doing. Obi-Wan brought his hands to her front, fondling one breast carefully as he glanced around the interior of the ship.

"You have your choice of luxurious and comfortable locations for this next bit, Senator. Will it be the cramped chair, the too-small bunk, the hard floor, or the thrilling logistical uncertainty of the wall?"

Padmé grinned cheekily. "Oh, the wall, to be certain."

"Challenge accepted," Obi-Wan smirked. He kissed her again, pushing her shoulders gently toward the perimeter of the little space. She whimpered against his lips when her back hit the wall, and Obi-Wan felt a flare of heat in his core. Padmé's fingers curled around his length between them, stroking him with a feather-light touch that made Obi-Wan's knees buckle a bit. He could not help but watch, amazed at the sight of her hand on him.

"I ought not to have criticized… ungh… your actions on Kamino," he admitted, meeting Padmé's wide brown eyes. "Even if Jango Fett managed to overcome the Stun bolt, that really was a very accurate… kriff , Padmé… a very accurate shot you took."

He was panting now, his hands pressed against the wall to hold him up as Padmé ghosted her fingers over his tip. She flashed him a mischievous grin and said in a playful voice,

"You're not so bad yourself, with that lightsaber of yours. It was terribly attractive, Master Kenobi, I must say."

Obi-Wan quirked up an eyebrow and struggled to find enough breath to say, "Was it? I suppose if I ever want to seduce you again, I only need a good deal of rain and a sparring partner."

Padmé's face went a bit more serious then, and her fingers stilled on his manhood. Obi-Wan worried he'd said something wrong, until Padmé whispered,

"You've already seduced me, Obi-Wan, and it's had very little to do with your fighting skills."

Before Obi-Wan knew what was happening, he was kissing her neck and lifting her from the ground. He felt her legs snare around his waist, felt her ankles link behind his back, and he drove himself into her body. She was ready for him, wet and tight and warm. She cried out at the feel of him filling her, and her hands gripped his arms. Obi-Wan thrust himself into her, over and over, pistoning against her with an urgency he hadn't known was there.

Padmé was crying, he realized suddenly. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, silent and subdued. Obi-Wan held her thighs in his hands and paused for a moment, studying her sad eyes. He did not need to ask her why she was crying, and he felt a terrible clench in his chest.

"I'm going to miss you once they take you from me," Padmé whispered, and Obi-Wan felt something inside of him shatter. He was in almost physical pain as he rolled his hips a few more times and finished inside of her. It felt distantly good, as a climax always did, but as Obi-Wan set Padmé on the ground and took a step away from her, it hurt, too. It felt very much like a farewell, like a kiss on the cheek of a dying friend.

Obi-Wan rubbed at his beard and mumbled, "You should… take a warm shower, perhaps. That rain on Kamino… the wet cold gets into your bones."

"You warmed me plenty. I'm fine," Padmé replied. She moved to her suitcase and yanked out a simple nightgown, which she wrenched over her head. "I think I'll sleep."

Obi-Wan nodded, wishing that the bunks were big enough to allow him to cradle her while she slept. He probably would never spend the night in bed with her again, he thought. He probably never should have done it in the first place.

He washed himself in the tiny 'fresher, letting the water jets blast off the evidence of the physical act that he'd just completed. But there was no shower in the galaxy to wash away how he felt about Padmé.

Padmé Amidala stared out of her apartments onto the controlled chaos of Coruscant. Everywhere she could see, lanes of speeders moved in a steady, stacked criss-cross. The buildings were so tall that Padmé wondered if one would ever truly hit the ground if one jumped from the top. Coruscant was very different from Naboo, she knew, in its cosmopolitan nature. Naboo was a place built on balance, on pacifism. From such a mindset, the people of Naboo had reaped great comfort and stability. As their Senator, Padmé had sought to promote their views. She had argued vehemently for years against the creation of an Army of the Republic. War would inevitably result, Padmé had said, and she truly believed that.

Now there was an army of clones that had been years in the making. And Padmé Amidala knew that once news of those clones fell upon the wrong ears, there would be war. It was inevitable. Everything she had protested was coming to fruition.

Perhaps that was why she'd put on a mourning gown after she'd arrived on Coruscant and washed up. The heavy skirts, crafted of countless yards of Aeien silk, were inky black. The bodice was striped silver and black, again of silk. From the back of the gown, a cape flowed and pooled on the ground. Its weight was restrictive every time Padmé tried to move forward. And so her gown felt very appropriate just now - heavy attire perfect for mourning peace.

On the shuttle journey from Kamino, Padmé and Obi-Wan had theorized about all the loose threads of logic. How was it that the alpha clone for the army on Kamino had also been involved in the plots to assassinate Padmé? It had taken a good deal of speculation before Padmé and Obi-Wan had settled on a theory. Perhaps there was someone who knew about the clone army who also wanted Padmé dead. This person, they reasoned, was likely someone who resented Padmé's pacifist efforts in the Senate… someone who did not fear war, but instead embraced it and longed for it. It wasn't much to go on, they knew, but it was the only theory they had to connect all the disparate dots.

As soon as they'd arrived back on Coruscant, Obi-Wan Kenobi had gone to find Anakin Skywalker. Padmé had hardly been surprised at Obi-Wan's eagerness to find out what had happened to his student. As far as Padmé knew, the two of them were even now in the apartment next door, talking things over. Padmé stood alone and gazed out of her window, only turning around when she heard the voice of her handmaiden, Dormé.

"Senator Amidala, Master Yoda of the Jedi Council had come to see you."

"Thank you, Dormé." Padmé swallowed the knot in her throat as she walked toward her sitting area. She needed to force herself, now more than ever, to be the diplomat she'd been trained to be.

"Master Yoda," she said smoothly, giving a reverent bow of her head as the small, ancient master waddled into the room. She gestured to the twin white sofas in the sitting area, and Yoda slid himself up onto one. Padmé sat across from him, keeping her face pleasant and neutral as Yoda said,

"Senator Amidala. Relieved, I am, to see you alive and well. Hmm."

"I have the Jedi to thank for the fact that I'm alive, Master Yoda. Master Kenobi has been a capable and valiant bodyguard."

Yoda's green face crinkled with a knowing expression. He turned his eyes to look out Padmé's window, and then he said, "Something true I have felt, in the depths of the Force... in love with you, Master Kenobi is."

Padmé felt her mouth drop open, felt her stomach flip, and she shut her eyes for a second. Yoda had not lingered on small talk very long. He'd cut straight to the interrogation. Padmé opened her eyes and sighed.

"Volumes, your silence speaks," Yoda nodded, and Padmé knitted her fingers together on her lap. She put her lips into a line and murmured,

"Master Yoda, I only beg that you do not punish him too harshly for it."

"Punish him?" Yoda repeated, sounding almost amused. Padmé frowned, feeling a spike of confusion, but Yoda grunted out a little chuckle and shook his head. "For punishment, time we have not. Master Kenobi's skills will we need, when to the galaxy a great war comes. Your diplomatic prowess will we need, when that war comes. Great faith I have, in you and him both. Stronger together, the two of you are. Hmm."

Yoda slid from the white sofa, landing with a little plop on the floor. Padmé flew to her feet, feeling dizzy with surprise at what Yoda had just said. She struggled to gather herself and remain composed as she looked down to the wizened Jedi Master.

"Remain vigilant, you will, to ensure Master Kenobi's focus on his duty, hmm?" Yoda quirked up one eyebrow, and Padmé nodded frantically.

"Of course, Master Yoda," she said, her voice cracking a bit. She walked Yoda to the doorway and thanked him as he left, and then she shut the door. She collapsed back against the wall and felt her eyes sear with sudden tears. Was there a chance, then, that Obi-Wan would not be sent away from her? For punishment, time we have not, Yoda had said. Stronger together, the two of you are.

Padmé covered her mouth with her hands and tried to stay quiet as she cried. She did not want Dormé to hear and think something terrible had happened. And just this minute, Padmé found she needed to be alone with her racing thoughts.

"Anakin, I'm more relieved than I can say to see you alive and well," Obi-Wan said to Anakin when he stepped into the sitting room. Anakin sighed deeply and sank onto one of the black chairs. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and he said,

"I'm relieved, too, Master. I had heard that you saved Padmé - Senator Amidala - from yet another assassin."

Obi-Wan nodded, grazing his knuckles over his beard as he sat opposite Anakin. "She is safe and sound, thankfully."

Anakin frowned. There was something odd in the way Obi-Wan's eyes as they spoke about Padmé. Anakin was more suspicious than he'd ever been that there was an attraction between his master and the young woman Anakin had spent years fantasizing over.

"I was worried over you," Obi-Wan continued, his voice and eyes softening a bit. "I could feel in the Force that something terrible was happening on Tatooine. Tell me, my young Padawan, why it is you felt the need to go home."

"Those dreams I had about my mother?" Anakin said, his voice spitting the words a bit as he fought off the burn in his eyes. "They weren't just dreams, Master."

Obi-Wan's face went very grave then, and he sat back against his chair. Anakin wanted to hear Obi-Wan apologize for having downplayed Anakin's visions. Perhaps if Obi-Wan had given Anakin leave to go back to Tatooine at the first twinge of danger, his mother would still be alive. Flush with anger, Anakin said in a bitter tone,

"She looked so much older, Master, than I remember her being. Part of it was the injuries from the weeks of torture inflicted on her by Tusken raiders. Part of it was the years that have passed. But she died in my arms, and she said her life was complete because she'd seen me again."

There was a split second of silence between master and student that was very loud indeed. Anakin watched Obi-Wan's throat bob as the older man prepared to speak. Finally, Obi-Wan said delicately,

"I'm sorry to hear that she's died. Even more sorry to hear of the violence she suffered. Tell me, Anakin… after your mother died, what did you do then?"

He knew. Anakin could tell that Obi-Wan knew. He just wanted to hear Anakin say it, to hear Anakin admit to slaughtering the village of Tuskens. Instead, Anakin pulled himself to his feet and walked toward a window. As he stared out of the glass, Anakin sniffed,

"I did what I needed to do, Master. Now, will you tell me something? Will you tell me how you and Padmé passed the time on Naboo, on Bellassa, on the shuttle to and from Kamino? Wild Space… that must have been eight or nine days round-trip."

"Eight days," Obi-Wan said calmly from behind Anakin. "Four there and four back."

Anakin whirled around, feeling very angry with his master. Obi-Wan had risen from his chair, and he'd folded his arms into his brown robe. His face was stony as he asked Anakin,

"Did you kill people on Tatooine, Anakin? I could feel that in the Force. I could feel that you'd killed."

"Well, I could feel that you and Padmé were -" Anakin began, but Obi-Wan shook his head and said firmly,

"Right now we are discussing you , my young Padawan, and whether or not you have committed a grave violation of honor."

Anakin scoffed and shook his head. "Shall I have one of the Padmé's mirrors from her boudoir brought in, Master? So that you might have a look in the glass and see your own accusations?"

That was a degree of petulence and disrespect that Anakin had never reached before with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his master's blue eyes flashed brightly. When Anakin had been a young teenager, he'd been sulky and peevish, and had occasionally snapped at his master. But Obi-Wan had always handled such minor irritability with an unending supply of calm and understanding. No quarrel between the two of them had ever lasted very long, and they had generally enjoyed an amenable relationship. Now Obi-Wan's eyes glittered with suspicion, and Anakin felt a burning anger in his chest. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a hypocrite, he thought, to be scolding Anakin for what he'd done on Tatooine.

"Are you in love with her, Master?" he asked bluntly. As far as Anakin knew, Obi-Wan had never lied to him about anything serious. And if his master were indeed in love with Padmé, that would be a serious violation of the Jedi Code. Such an offense would erase Obi-Wan's ability to berate Anakin for the slaughter on Tatooine, if only Anakin could get Obi-Wan to admit to it. Anakin took a step toward Obi-Wan, whose chin tipped up almost defiantly as Anakin asked again, "Are you in love with Padmé?"

Obi-Wan chewed his bottom lip for a moment, and his hands tightened on his elbows. His face morphed into an expression halfway between hurt and anger, and he finally hissed, "Yes, Anakin. I am in love with Padmé. And you … you no longer recognize your place as my pupil. And you have lost your respect for life. I can feel that very strongly. I wish I did not sense so much darkness inside of you. The anger you are projecting toward me is not what I have taught you. I have -"

"You taught me how to properly wield a lightsaber, how to use Farseeing, how to track people down in the Force. You taught me all of that, Master, and those skills came in very useful on Tatooine. So, thank you." Anakin crossed his own arms over his tunic, feeling a throb of irritation and resentment go through his veins. He watched as Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed, as his lips turned down. Anakin had never hated his master before, not even for an instant. He didn't hate him now, either, but he felt much greater acrimony toward Obi-Wan that he'd ever felt.

"You wound me very deeply, Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly. He shook his head and said in a more confident tone, "I am due to meet with the Jedi High Council to debrief the discovery of the clone army and to discuss ongoing efforts to protect Padmé from assassination. You can be assured, my young Padawan, that I will not be recommending that you be placed on her security detail for the time being. Get some rest, Anakin, and we will talk later."

Obi-Wan turned to go, striding away from Anakin with long steps. Anakin scowled as he watched his master go. It felt like much more than Obi-Wan leaving a room. Something between them had fractured and torn, and Anakin felt more angry than he had since that awful night on Tatooine.

"Thank you, Estee Three." Padmé flashed a little smile at the ST-series styling droid that was moving away from her head. The cleansing unit on the droid had just washed off her makeup, and the droid's nimble arms had braided Padmé's hair into a single tight plait for the night.

"Have a wonderful evening, Senator," said the smooth voice of Estee Three. The droid hovered into its charging position beneath Padmé's boudoir and there was a low series of beeps indicating the droid had gone into sleep mode.

Padmé sighed and looked into her mirror. Her meeting with Chancellor Palpatine a few hours earlier had been unsettling, and ever since, Padmé had been on edge. She had discussed the complicated political implications of the Kamino clones with the Chancellor. He had, for some reason, not been as surprised to hear about the clones as Padmé might have expected. Perhaps he had been successfully masking his shock, or perhaps he was particularly skilled in using a measured tone after years in politics. But for some reason, the way Chancellor Palpatine received the news of the clone army made Padmé feel strange. Between that meeting and the one with Master Yoda, it had been a very strange day indeed for Padmé Amidala.

She turned over her shoulder at the sound of her door sliding open. For a half second, she thought perhaps it was Dormé coming to check on her before she went to bed. But her heart clenched as Obi-Wan Kenobi came walking into her rooms. He glanced around for a moment, as if to ensure they were alone, and then he kept walking toward Padmé. She flew from the stool at her boudoir and dashed toward him, knowing she probably seemed very childish as she flung herself against him. She didn't care what it would have looked like; she needed his arms around her just now. She felt Obi-Wan's hands on her back, felt his lips press against her hair, and he murmured,

"I met with the Jedi High Council. I was… I was not chastised at all by them. I thought you might want to know that."

Padmé pulled back and gave him a little half smile. "Master Yoda came to see me," she said, and Obi-Wan's red-gold eyebrows went up in surprise. Padmé continued, "He told me there was no time for punishment, not in light of discovery of the clone army. He also said he thought you and I were stronger together than we are separately."

Obi-Wan's mouth fell open, and he took a half step back as a mix of relief and confusion seemed to settle over him. "And what do you think of that?" he asked carefully.

"I think I feel safe with you, even though someone still wants me dead. I think you help me think rationally in the face of danger. I'm stronger because of you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm not sure I could say the same in reverse."

She remembered the way he had been distracted for an instant on Kamino when little Boba Fett had shrieked at him. Hey, Jedi! I'm gonna shoot your girlfriend! That had been enough to distract Obi-Wan just long enough for Jango Fett to kick him from the platform, and it had led to the bounty hunter's escape. If anything, Padmé thought, Obi-Wan was weaker because of her. She did not much like that thought. But Obi-Wan said,

"Master Yoda knows the Force better than anyone I've ever met. He's known me since I was a tiny Youngling. If Master Yoda is disinclined to exile me from the Jedi Order, I will not argue the matter with him."

Padmé slid her fingers through Obi-Wan's and led him toward her bed. Her silk nightgown moved about her like fresh cream as she walked. She could feel Obi-Wan's hand tighten on hers, and when they reached her bed, Padmé encouraged him to sit on the edge. He did, looking a bit hungry for a moment as Padmé situated herself between his knees. She dragged her fingers through his hair, noticing the way the light from the setting sun came through the windows and made his hair look more red than ever. She leaned to kiss his forehead, and Obi-Wan's hands moved to hold her waist. He grunted quietly, and it took quite a bit of self-control for Padmé to ask,

"And what about Ani?"

Obi-Wan's fingers tightened on her waist, and he let out deep sigh against Padmé's chest. He raised his eyes to look at her, and she was a bit alarmed at how sad his eyes were.

"What about Anakin?" she asked again, suddenly very worried. Obi-Wan hesitated, but at last he licked his lip and said,

"Anakin's mother was taken prisoner by raiders on Tatooine. He felt that she was in danger, and so he went to find her. She died in Anakin's arms, and he… he took revenge."

Padmé's jaw dropped. He took revenge ? What did that mean? Was Anakin Skywalker a murderer? There was a terrible crack in Obi-Wan's voice as he added,

"He hates me now, because he can tell that I love you. He wanted you for himself, or at least wanted a fair shake at seducing you. Now he hates me, he's done something terrible, and…" His eyes closed and his lips tightened. "I'm losing him, Padmé. I fear a growing darkness inside of him. I've failed him."

Padmé felt an awful cinch of guilt in her stomach. She was ruining everything for Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Jedi Council might have overlooked his offense for now, because there was the risk of war in the future, but surely his standing in their eyes had been irreparably damaged. His relationship with his Padawan was fraying, and it was mostly because of how Obi-Wan loved Padmé. She sighed and took a half step back from him, cinching her scarlet robe around her waist.

"Will you be standing guard out in the corridor tonight? I'd feel safer if it was you."

"Is that your way of evicting me from your bed, Senator Amidala?" Obi-Wan asked, a sly smirk coming over his lips. "Bidding me to go stand guard in the corridor? You know I could guard you much better if I were right beside you."

Padmé laughed under her breath. "I think I've done enough damage in your life for one day."

Obi-Wan pulled his thumb over his beard, looking very thoughtful as he said, "Forgive me for being so direct about this, but… I think just now I want nothing more than kiss you and hold you."

Padmé's chest fluttered at the way he spoke. She felt her cheeks go hot with sudden want, and her fingers snared back into his hair. "You want me, Master Kenobi?"

His breath shook a little through his lips as one hand dragged up her thigh. "Yes. I want you."

Padmé leaned down and put her lips beside his ear. In light of all the ongoing stress around them, she thought perhaps her bed might be an escape for them both tonight. She kissed the skin just below Obi-Wan's ear and whispered,

"Tell me… what exactly do you want, Master Kenobi?"

His fingers dug into the back of her thigh, eliciting a little gasp from Padmé, and his back went ramrod straight. He was tense, suddenly, as Padmé rubbed at his scalp, and she worried that she'd said something wrong. But then he whispered,

"I've always been much better at showing than at telling."

Padmé pulled back and smiled down at him. She nodded. "Show me, then."

Obi-Wan dragged himself out of Padmé's bed, feeling an odd twinge of unease as he did. Something in the Force, some kind of disturbance, was practically screaming at him to reach out and find it. He snatched his lightsaber from the table beside Padmé's bed and stalked through her rooms, not much caring just now that he was naked. He looked around for a few minutes, ensuring that the danger he felt was not in Padmé's apartment. He glanced back to her bed, to where she was sleeping peacefully, and his heart raced again.

They had spent over an hour earlier caressing and kissing, and then Obi-Wan had taken Padmé for what felt like an eternity. It had been soothing and tiring at the same time, and they'd both fallen asleep with their limbs tangled. But something had awakened Obi-Wan, and now he wanted to figure out the source of his discomfort. He hunted down his clothing, which had been scattered all over Padmé's floor earlier. Obi-Wan smirked a little at the memory of her wrenching his tunics from his body and tossing them haphazardly onto the ground.

As long as I'm breaking every rule I've been taught, I might as well let you go ahead and disrespect my uniform, he'd teased her, and Padmé had laughed a little. Obi-Wan felt his cheeks go hot as he put his clothes back on now. His mind was vibrating with the memory of how breathless she'd been when he'd touched her, the way her face had twisted and the sound of her moans as she'd finished around his fingers. She'd finished around his cock, too, just before he'd spilled himself into her. Obi-Wan stared down at Padmé's sleeping form and tried to shove aside the reality of how his body responded to her. The sight of her, curled naked beneath her blankets with her face peaceful, was enough to make Obi-Wan go a bit hard. But he wasn't about to wake her up for sex, and, anyway, he needed to get to the bottom of the the odd shiver in the Force.

Obi-Wan situated himself on the ground beside Padmé's bed. He folded his legs beneath him and put his hands on his knees. He shut his eyes and began to breathe more carefully. He drew in breath for six counts, held it for six counts, and released it for six counts. Over and over he did this, always counting steadily in his mind. One, two, three, four, five, six. Breathe in, hold, release. The rhythm was steady and soothing, and after awhile, Obi-Wan could no longer feel his own body.

He imagined that he was climbing the sheer face of a cliff. He was pulling himself up, one hold at a time, always getting nearer to the top. Up and up he climbed, steady and sure. Then he released the holds and fell backward into a bottomless black chasm. In his mind, Obi-Wan fell for a very long time. Falling, falling, falling. Down, down, down. One, two, three, four, five, six.

He had found his trance, and Obi-Wan sought out the strange feeling in the Force using the skill of Farseeing. Infinite time and space were at his disposal as he tried to find the twinge that had called to him. Finally, Obi-Wan felt himself being sucked into a scene, and he looked around him as he realized no one could sense him there.

The space around him was hot and bright, and Obi-Wan recognized it as a square in the center of a rather stark complex of buildings. A group of beings came from one of the buildings. There were several of the insectoid Geonosian species, along with a mixed group of others. Obi-Wan immediately knew two in the group. There was Nute Gunray, the Neimoidian viceroy who had led the invasion of Naboo ten years previously. There was also Count Dooku, the former Jedi whom Padmé had initially suspected was behind the attempt to assassinate her.

Obi-Wan felt a quiver of shock, even through his meditation. This was not a vision of the future, he knew. This was happening right now. This was real. He listened to the conversation going on in the group as they walked by.

"Now we must persuade the Commerce Guild and the Corporate Alliance to sign the treaty," said Count Dooku. Obi-Wan felt anger strike him through at the sound of Dooku's voice. What he would give to be able to call out to the traitor right now.

"And what of the Senator from Naboo? Amidala. I will not be signing any treaties until I have her head on my desk," said Viceroy Gunray. Obi-Wan's mouth fell open where he stood. Suddenly it all made sense. Nute Gunray had been humiliated by Padmé years earlier, and it was likely that the Neimoidian had retained a personal grudge. Still, it was disturbing to hear the vehement way Gunray demanded Padmé's death.

"I am a man of my word, Viceroy," said a man beside Count Dooku. Then one of the insect-like Geonosians paused in flight and said,

"Don't worry, Viceroy Gunray. The new battle droids we've made for you will give you the finest army in the galaxy."

"Hmm…" Gunray sounded skeptical, but he turned his unreadable face to Count Dooku and said, "Reaffirm for me, Count Dooku, that your proposals will be uninhibited free trade."

"Profits beyond your wildest imagination, Viceroy Gunray." Count Dooku's voice was smooth, and his noble face was reassuring. "Once our friends in the Trade Federation join us, and their battle droids combine with yours, we will be unstoppable. The Republic will be utterly overwhelmed."

Nute Gunray quirked his head. "I derive some confidence in your cause, Count Dooku, from the idea that the financial powers in the galaxy will come together and that the battle droid factories are operating at full capacity. Still, I want Senator Amidala dead."

"Rest assured, Viceroy, that you will have the Senator's head soon enough," said Count Dooku. "In the meantime, I hope you will go ahead and sign on with us."

Obi-Wan was suddenly yanked from the sunny square, as if a string were tied to his back and had been pulled by an unseen puppeteer. He was soaring, whirling through a black depth. He was coming out of his trance. He was awake again.

He blinked his eyes a few times and realized he was back in Padmé's bedroom. Outside her transparisteel windows, the sun was rising. Obi-Wan flew to his feet and dashed over to Padmé's bed. He shook her shoulder rather roughly, and she groaned as she rubbed her eyes and rolled to face him.

"Wake up, Padmé," Obi-Wan said firmly, and she pushed herself up to her elbows at his insistent tone.

"What's the matter?" she asked groggily. Obi-Wan struggled to the calm the panic spreading through him.

"Come get dressed," he instructed her. "You and I need to meet immediately with the Jedi High Council."

He explained to her what he'd seen as she rushed to yank on undergarments and a simple dress. She said nothing as Obi-Wan talked her through the scene on Geonosis. Her face was steely and determined, and as she slipped shoes onto her feet, Obi-Wan said,

"This war will be beyond anything we could have ever imagined."

Padmé met his eyes, and her face was both sad and angry. "Yes, it will be. So let's go make a plan, shall we?"

"Dooku. We should have known… we should have suspected him." Mace Windu shook his head and let out an irritated huff. Obi-Wan Kenobi gnawed on his bottom lip, glancing around the Temple refectory in which he and Master Windu were taking lunch.

"It is alarming, is it not, that Dooku has managed to so thoroughly conceal his darkness from the entirety of the Jedi Council?" Obi-Wan asked quietly. "I believe I was only drawn to that Farseeing vision because the conversation also involved Senator Amidala. I have been attuned in the Force to anything surrounding the assassination attempts. Hearing and seeing Dooku's role in the creation of a droid army was purely coincidental."

Mace Windu took a bite of a preserved gor apple from his plate. He chewed and said in a thoughtful tone, "Senator, correct me if I'm wrong, but I had thought the entire Trade Federation had publicly repudiated the Separatists."

Beside Obi-Wan, Padmé nodded. She set down her glass of Lyme's rose juice and folded her hands on the shining white table. Obi-Wan stole a glance up and down her form. She'd elected today to wear a stoic, simple tunic of dark blue velvet over taupe leggings with dark blue boots. Her hair was yanked back neatly into three braids, which had been wound into a bun at the nape of her neck. She looked serious and political, but still managed to be pretty.

"The Trade Federation maintains a presence in the Senate," Padmé informed Master Windu. "If the vision Master Kenobi witnessed is true, and the various parts of the Trade Federation join Count Dooku, then their public allegiance to the Republic is a total sham. They are not to be trusted. It makes me wonder who else can not be trusted. I confess that my faith in the Senate itself has been greatly shaken by these revelations."

"The Republic will have no choice now but to use the clone army from Kamino," Obi-Wan noted, slowly stirring a spoon in his bantha stew. "Overwhelmed. That was the word Dooku used. ' The Republic will be utterly overwhelmed. '"

"It's true," Padmé agreed. "If the Separatists have amassed widespread support and have a droid army that is essentially disposable, the only hope of resisting them is to try to match their military capabilities. It is a distressing notion, but war is almost certainly coming."

"The Jedi will be used as generals," Mace Windu said, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. "Chancellor Palpatine discussed that matter with the Jedi Council just a few hours ago."

Obi-Wan felt his eyebrows go up. "Jedi Generals?" he repeated. "I thought the Jedi stayed out of military conflicts whenever possible."

"It isn't possible to stay out of this one, General Kenobi," Master Windu said gravely. Obi-Wan felt an odd twinge in his chest at the use of that title… General Kenobi. He shook his head, flicking his eyes to Padmé.

"My orders at present are to protect Senator Amidala from attempts on her life. It was very clear from what I saw on Geonosis that some still want her dead."

"Master Kenobi," Padmé said carefully, and her brown eyes were wide when he met them. "The important thing right now is the preservation of the Republic. If you are needed to command clone troops and to triumph against the Separatists, then that is where you must go."

Obi-Wan wanted to tell Padmé not to be silly, that of course he would remain with her to keep her safe, but he knew she was right. He was a Jedi Knight, and if the Jedi were being called into battle, then he would go to battle.

"It is likely," Mace Windu said, lowering his voice and leaning forward onto the table, "that Grand Master Yoda will call the clone army into action to strike the droid foundries on Geonosis. But it will need to be at a seemingly random time. The element of surprise is critical. General Kenobi, I have no doubt that you'll be made aware when that time comes."

Obi-Wan nodded and gulped. "And my Padawan?" he asked carefully. "Will he be made a Knight? Will there be a General Skywalker?"

"We shall see about that," Mace Windu said. He sat back and picked up another slice of preserved gor apple. "In the meantime, stay on your toes. Things will be happening with a great sense of urgency now."

Master Windu had not been wrong about how quickly everything would begin to happen. It was only four days later when Obi-Wan was summoned before the Jedi High Council and informed he and Anakin Skywalker were to go at once to Geonosis. The clone army had been called into action from Kamino, they were told, and along with several hundred other Jedi, they were to lean an attack on the droid foundries and the droid army itself.

It had been very difficult for Obi-Wan to tell Padmé goodbye as he'd left. He'd stolen a quick embrace and a fleeting kiss, and he'd burned into memory the feel of her hand on his cheek. She'd reassured him that she would be fine, that the Council had appointed eight guards for her and that she would be staying ensconced in her apartments until Obi-Wan returned. Still, a stubborn coil of trepidation in Obi-Wan's belly had stayed all the way to Geonosis. He and Anakin flew interceptors to Geonosis. The second they exited their hyperdrive rings, Obi-Wan felt his heart begin to race.

"Whoa! Wasn't expecting to see this," he heard Anakin say over their linked comm headsets.

"Welcome to Geonosis, then," Obi-Wan answered. They'd come out of hyperspace and straight into a battle scene. Perhaps the element of surprise Master Yoda had been relying on had not been present after all, Obi-Wan realized. Before them, the red-orange orb of Geonosis loomed. But in the space above the planet, there were heavy-duty starfighters exchanging fire. Obi-Wan maneuvered his own interceptor down and to the right as a droid starfighter headed straight for him.

"Be careful, Master," Anakin said over the comm headsets. "Those droid fighters won't hesitate to sacrifice themselves. Artoo, dodge 'em!"

That was the entire problem here, Obi-Wan could see. They were surrounded by sleek new droid starfighters with no living pilots within them. The droid fighters were locking onto the other Jedi Interceptors in the area and firing vibrant red bolts in rapid succession.

"Master, there's a banking clan frigate down there. Do you see?" Anakin's voice was almost excited, and Obi-Wan glanced out and down through his viewport.

"I see it," he answered gravely, feeling his heart sink at the sight of the long, skeletal frigate. The Trade Federation logo that had been painted on its side said it all - Dooku had gained the allies he wanted. The frigate would be armed with many heavy cannons, Obi-Wan knew, so he said firmly, "Stay well above it, Anakin. Focus on the droid starfighters."

"There could be a hundred thousand droid troops inside that thing!" Anakin argued. "Don't you think we should try and take it out?"

"No! Our mission is to land on Geonosis and aid with the attack on the foundries! Stay away from that frigate, Anakin!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, shaking his head despite Anakin's inability to see him. Then, noticing a pack of oncoming droid fighters, he swerved his interceptor to the left and barked, "Anakin, break right! Break right!"

He glanced out his viewport and saw that Anakin had swerved his interceptor away. The droid fighters didn't react in time to the split of the Jedi interceptors, and they sailed in between Anakin and Obi-Wan.

"Lock onto them, Artoo!" Anakin exclaimed, just as Obi-Wan said,

"Arfour, lock rear projectiles, and…" Obi-Wan pressed his thumbs against the triggers on his steering column. He glanced into the mirror cam and watched as two of the droid fighters exploded. He smiled despite himself and heard Anakin whoop over the comm headset. Their elation was short-lived, though, as a sudden blast rocked Obi-Wan's interceptor. He felt his eyes go round and listened as Arfour beeped to inform him that laser flak from a Trade Federation battleship had struck them.

"Fix the damage, Arfour. We need to keep going," Obi-Wan commanded.

"You sure you don't want to go after those bigger ships, Master?" Anakin demanded, and Obi-Wan scowled.

"Home in on the Jedi who have already landed, Anakin. We need to get onto the surface of Geonosis. Now."

A few neat dodges and scraps of luck later, Obi-Wan and Anakin's ships were descending through Geonosis' dusty skies and rocketing toward the ground. Below them, Obi-Wan could see a phalanx of grey meeting a phalanx of brown. The great disposable armies seemed to have found one another. Obi-Wan and Anakin landed on an open patch of dust, each leaping from his cockpit with a lightsaber in hand.

The next few hours were a blur. Obi-Wan battled almost to exhaustion against the droid troops on the ground. The problem was that there seemed to be no end to the droids. They just kept coming, no matter how quickly Obi-Wan and Anakin sliced at their metal bodies. The Jedi spent hours parrying blaster bolts and hacking at the droids. They were slow and didn't seem to give much fight when confronted with a close-range lightsaber. It didn't matter. They just kept coming.

After a great long while, a voice inside of Obi-Wan's headset said gravely,

"Regroup, we must. General Kenobi, with young Skywalker to Coruscant you will return at once. Retreat, you will, to your interceptors."

"Well, if you insist, Master Yoda. And we were just beginning to have fun here," Obi-Wan said rather sarcastically. He held his lightsaber up before him at an angle as yet another blaster bolt rocketed through the air. He successfully blocked the bolt, glancing to where Anakin was slashing his own lightsaber in a horizontal line. Three droids emitting bloops of alarm, and Anakin's weapon sliced through them like butter. The droids collapsed into a heap, and Obi-Wan yelled,

"Let's go, Anakin."

"Just a few more, Master; I can -"

" Let's go, Anakin! " Obi-Wan was disturbed by Anakin's defiance today. He sensed another blaster bolt off to his right, and he raised his lightsaber to block it as he kept staring at Anakin. His Padawan growled with frustration but turned to dash back to his own interceptor. Obi-Wan climbed into his own ship and said, "Arfour, let's get back to those hyperdrive rings as quickly as possible. Assuming they haven't been blown to bits by the droid fighters, of course."

"There's more we could have done," Anakin said over the comm headset, once their ships had made the jump to hyperspace. Obi-Wan turned his lips down and shook his head.

"If you want to see value in endless direct combat against an inexhaustible supply of droid troops, that is your prerogative, Anakin. Master Yoda could see that there was no end in sight to that battle. We're going back to make a better plan."

Obi-Wan rolled his shoulder, feeling a crack as he did. He'd taken a hard fall onto a boulder after being nearly overwhelmed by five droid troopers. His shoulder had been dislocated and a few bones had splintered, but Obi-Wan had managed to mostly heal himself during the battle using the Force. Now, inside his interceptor, his shoulder ached deeply in a way he knew would take old-fashioned time to heal.

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé rose from the table where she'd been staring at a plate of food. She'd had no appetite, feeling far too nervous at the thought of what was happening on Geonosis. Reports of the battle had come to her via holographic meeting with Master Windu. There had been a few dozen Jedi killed, she'd been told, though Obi-Wan and Anakin had survived. The abilities and size of the droid army had been shocking, and there had been a swarm of ships in the space above Geonosis. It had been a bit of a mess, Padmé had been told. More importantly, it was very clear now that the war had begun.

Padmé turned her face to Dormé as Obi-Wan stepped into the room, noting her handmaiden's look of surprise at how Padmé had greeted the Jedi. Padmé couldn't care just now whether Dormé knew about them. She said delicately, "Dormé, you can go for the evening. I'd like to speak privately with General Kenobi."

"Of course, Senator." Dormé nodded and gave a little bow before sliding out of the door through which Obi-Wan had just come. Once they were alone, Padmé embraced Obi-Wan. She breathed in deeply, smelling sweat and dirt on him, and she knew he'd come straight to her after arriving from Geonosis. She didn't need to go on about how glad she was to see him alive. He could tell, she knew, by how tightly she'd wrapped her arms around him. He grunted quietly, and Padmé thought perhaps she'd hurt him.

"Are you all right?" she asked carefully, pulling back and watching as Obi-Wan curled his left hand around his right shoulder. He frowned and muttered,

"Who'd have known the most dangerous thing on Geonosis today would be a boulder?"

Padmé scoffed. "Boulders can be positively lethal. Would you like me to send for some bacta strips?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "This is as good as it's going to get for right now. It'll ache for a few days. It's nothing."

His blue eyes darkened a bit as he stared down at Padmé. "It is worse, I'm afraid, than we could have anticipated. The droid army is already massive, and there are foundries all over the galaxy to keep producing more. They fall easily, but their supply is endless. This war will not be easy."

"But it will be necessary," Padmé said, blinking back tears as she shook her head with dismay. "All of my efforts to preserve peace were for nothing."

"Preserving peace is an especially difficult task when faced with an enemy who so adores conflict. There is nothing you could have done."

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, and it was then that Padmé noticed his skin was caked with dried blood. She gasped and pulled Obi-Wan's hand from his hair, and he winced. Padmé studied him, seeing that there were no open wounds on his skin. She raised her eyes to him, and he said in a bit of an embarrassed tone,

"It's left over from where I fell. May I wash my uniform in your sonic washer?"

"You may," Padmé nodded. "And you should take a very long, very hot shower. You've earned it, General Kenobi."

Obi-Wan wrapped his blood-caked fingers around Padmé's, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed her knuckles and closed his eyes.

"How did Anakin do?" Padmé asked with genuine curiosity, and Obi-Wan's lips curled up a bit. He kissed Padmé's knuckles again and said,

"He was very competent with his ship and his lightsaber, and he was full of ideas that contradicted orders. So, it was very much an ordinary day for Anakin Skywalker."

Padmé smiled and pulled at Obi-Wan's hand. They walked to Padmé's sleek, luxurious 'fresher, where she helped him peel off his filthy tunics and leggings. She moved to put the clothes into the sonic washer. She popped in a detergent pod and shut the washer lid, pushing the button to activate it. When she turned around, Obi-Wan was stepping naked into her shower and fretting a bit over the controls. He pushed a button, and a harsh jet of frigid water shot from the wall straight at his stomach. Obi-Wan yelped and staggered away from the jet, pressing the same button as before to shut it off. He whirled over his shoulder and scowled at Padmé, who giggled at the sight.

"I promise you I've just come back from successfully piloting a starfighter and evading countless blaster bolts in battle," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head. "Explain this shower's ludicrous control panel to me, will you, Senator?"

Padmé grinned, jerking her chin toward the screen on the wall. "Temperature select… no, to the left. Yes. There. Then the number of jets and the desired intensi - no, no. To the right. Up. Yes. There."

Obi-Wan was laughing now, too, at Padmé's complicated instructions. He finally put one hand against the glass wall and raised one eyebrow.

"Why don't you just come in here yourself and help me?" he asked suggestively. Padmé felt an instant flush of desire at that suggestion. She smirked as she yanked her crimson dress up over her head. She was more slow and deliberate in removing her undergarments. As she stepped naked toward the shower, she could see heat in Obi-Wan's eyes. His fingers tightened against the glass, and he said in a bit of a husky tone,

"Suddenly I find myself downright grateful for overcomplicated shower controls," he admitted. He was very hard, Padmé could see, and she curled her fingers around his rigid length as she stepped into the shower with him. He hissed a bit and whispered, "Go on, then."

"With the shower or with this ?" Padmé teased at his cock, sliding her fingertips up and down the shaft. Obi-Wan groaned and shifted on his feet.

"Both."

Padmé kept her right hand on his manhood and turned her eyes to the control panel on the wall. Her left fingers were deft and practiced on the screen. She selected an overhead rain flow, hot but not scalding, and she pushed the green activation button. Suddenly there was a cascade of water from the ceiling, and Padmé stepped toward Obi-Wan as she touched him more insistently. She watched as his red-gold hair was soaked, as it clumped around his face. His erection twitched a bit in her hand, and she was breathless all of a sudden.

"Were you very brave on Geonosis, General Kenobi?" she whispered, and his eyes flashed.

"Only as brave as the circumstances required me to be, Senator," he insisted. His own fingers reached between them, delving carefully between Padmé's legs. She sighed as he pulsed his fingertips against her, and she was shocked when he murmured, "Difficult to tell if it's the shower water or something else making my fingers wet just now."

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé grinned at his surprisingly lewd words.

"It has been a very long day, Padmé," he said, his face going a bit serious. "I am finding it difficult to relax after all the chaos. Will you help me?"

It was definitely not the shower water making his fingers wet then. Padmé nodded and reached her hands toward the wall. She pushed a button on the dispenser, and foam cleanser hissed into her trembling palms. She reached up and spread the foam into Obi-Wan's hair, hearing his breath hitch as she rubbed it against his scalp. He rinsed the cleanser from his hair, and Padmé spread a bit of conditioning oil through his tangled locks before starting to wash his body. She washed her own hair and skin, amused at how Obi-Wan's eyes studied her as she did. He never took his fingers from her, and as she washed her own breasts and arms, his touch grew more urgent. Before Padmé knew what was happening, they were both clean and rinsed and twisting two fingers into her.

Padmé cried out at the feel of it, reaching desperately for his shoulders. He winced and grunted, and Padmé realized she'd gripped the place where he'd hurt himself on Geonosis. She yanked her hand away and muttered a clumsy apology. Obi-Wan responded by urging her back against the white shower wall. Padmé gasped when her back hit the cold tile, pressing her palms to the wall to try and steady herself. Obi-Wan's hand was continuing to stroke and twist and pulse, and Padmé's ears had begun to ring. Her skin tingled and her whole body was on fire for him.

He crushed her mouth with a fierce kiss, and Padmé realized she had never felt such urgency from him before. Perhaps the day of battle really had driven him to another place mentally. Padmé didn't mind. She moaned against his mouth as she came, her walls clenching hard around his fingers as water dripped from his hair onto her skin.

She sank to her knees, very much on instinct, once her climax had passed. Obi-Wan frowned down at her, taking her head in his hands and asking breathlessly,

"What are you doing?"

Padmé wrapped her fingers around him, positioning herself under the warm water and not minding the hard tile beneath her knees. She stared at his cock, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sight of it. She raised her eyes, blinking through the stream of water, and saw that Obi-Wan had put one hand against the wall and was leaning a bit as though he thought his knees would give out. He shook his head and panted,

"You don't have to do that. I don't want you… on the floor if it's…"

His words trailed off as Padmé pumped her hand on him, and his eyes closed as his throat bobbed. Then Padmé decided she definitely didwant to do this, and she drummed up some false confidence. She nodded to steady herself, and she put her lips around him.

He didn't taste like much here, not after being washed. She could feel the way he throbbed, and the bumpy veins along his length were more obvious inside her mouth. Padmé pushed her head forward, trying not to gag as his tip hit the back of her throat. Obi-Wan groaned loudly, the fingers of his right hand snaring in Padmé's wet hair. His voice echoed off the tiles, and Padmé smiled to herself. He liked this, and that made her very happy.

She pulled her head back, bringing her hand with her, and then pushed forward again. She tried to pretend her mouth was her womanhood, directing her motions as though her lips were making love to him. It seemed to work, because after a moment, Obi-Wan bucked his hips forward wildly. Padmé did gag then, wrenching her mouth from him and spluttering.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Obi-Wan shook his head and sounded almost as if he were in pain. His hand smacked the tile wall a bit, and he let out a shaky sigh. His blue eyes were glazed with want as Padmé smirked up at him, and she murmured,

"Does it feel good?"

He nodded, his lips open as he pulled his wet hair from his face. "Almost too good," he admitted, tipping his head and then reaching down to cup Padmé's face. "Stop when I tell you… it would taste absolutely vile."

Padmé believed him, but she wanted very badly to bring him to that point. She kept her eyes on him as she brought her mouth back to his length. Her own body came back to life, and she was wet between her legs again as she pleasured him. She brought Obi-Wan's as far into her mouth as she could manage and then made swallowing motions with her throat, as though she were trying to drink him in. That seemed to drive Obi-Wan over the edge, and his hand smacked at the tile wall again as his face twisted.

"St-stop, Padmé," he groaned, rolling his hips backward gently. "It's too… too much. Just… oh, kriff!"

Padmé pulled her lips from him just in time. She still held onto him, pulsing her hand along his length and watching as he came. His face contorted into an expression that seemed very much like pain, though Padmé knew it was pleasure. Creamy jets of fluid burst forth from the tip of his manhood, mingling with the water on the floor of the shower before disappearing down the drain. After a moment, Obi-Wan smiled down at her, panting as he recovered. Padmé started to stand, only now realizing how badly her knees ached. She felt Obi-Wan's hands on her ribs, helping her up. He leaned back against the wall, cradling Padmé in his arms and kissing her wet hair.

"Do you know… as I was flying back from Geonosis, dirty and wounded and exhausted… all I wanted was this? All I wanted was you." Obi-Wan's voice sounded tired and warm, and Padmé kissed the wet skin of his chest as she absorbed what he'd said. His hands were on her cheeks then, pulling her back enough to look up at him. She studied his blue eyes, seeing the desperate need in them for sleep, and she whispered,

"You can have me in your arms… but why don't we move this to my bed? I think a good night's sleep would do you well, General Kenobi."

She reached around him and shut off the shower. They stood there until the air was too cold, until Padmé had begun to shiver, and finally she pulled away from Obi-Wan. She laced her fingers through his and pushed open the shower door. She turned around when he pulled her back, and she looked up at him with concern. He frowned deeply.

"I love you, Padmé," he mused, sounding surprised by his own words. He shook his head, licking his bottom lip before adding, "I had no idea at all that it was possible to love to completely. It is more frightening than battle. That's for certain."

"Don't be afraid of me, please," Padmé said, pushing his wet hair from his eyes. "Just take me to bed and hold me."

War did strange things to tradition.

Anakin Skywalker knew that his master Obi-Wan had never formally completed the Jedi Trials. He had been made a Jedi Knight because he'd slain a Sith. Anakin never completed the trials, either. He was about to be made a Jedi Knight because the war effort demanded it. Only Jedi Knights could be generals, and Anakin Skywalker would make a very good general. That was what the Jedi High Council had decided.

After the Battle of Praesitlyn, Anakin had been notified by Master Windu that he would be made a Knight immediately. He spent a full day and night meditating in the sacred Tranquility Spire of the Jedi Temple. He had seen strange visions - just little wisps of the future. A shining black mask and a red lightsaber blade crashing against a blue one. A woman's voice screaming in terror. The crackling sound of a comm headset giving out as a ship crashed onto a dusty planet. The low rumble of laughter against a relentless sheet of rain.

When Anakin emerged from the Tranquility Spire, he found himself in a better mood than he remembered experiencing in quite some time. He would not be getting this Knighthood without the explicit recommendation of Obi-Wan Kenobi. For that reason, Anakin found himself willing to temporarily overlook Obi-Wan's affair with Padmé Amidala.

The Hall of Knighthood was more brightly lit than Anakin would have expected for such a legendary place. When he walked into the room, he found the entire Jedi High Council standing in a circle around the perimeter. In the center of the room stood Obi-Wan Kenobi, his face lowered to the ground and his brown hood pulled up. Anakin frowned, feeling confused by the way the room seemed centered around Obi-Wan. But he said nothing as he moved to the center of the room, waiting quietly as he'd been instructed to do.

There was a sudden and simultaneous flash around the circle then, as the members of the Jedi High Council illuminated their lightsabers. Green and blue blades were raised, and Anakin watched as Grand Master Yoda hopped down from his stool and walked across the floor.

"Kneel you will, the both of you," Yoda said. Anakin frowned again, flicking his eyes to the side as Obi-Wan Kenobi knelt. Anakin fell to his knees, pulling his hood down and raising his eyes to Grand Master Yoda, who said, "Bow your head you will, young Skywalker."

Anakin did as the Grand Master commanded. There was a silence that felt long and heavy, and then Yoda said firmly,

"By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, a Knight of the Jedi I dub you now."

Anakin didn't flinch as Yoda's green lightsaber blade came down beside his head. He soaked in the warm glow of the weapon, feeling flush with elation. Yoda quickly yanked his lightsaber up, and Anakin felt his Padawan braid give way. It fell to the floor, and Anakin thought to himself, Good riddance.

Anakin wondered what he was supposed to do for a moment, but then he watched as Yoda took a few steps and positioned himself in front of the kneeling Obi-Wan. Yoda held his lightsaber vertically before him and said,

"Obi-Wan Kenobi… by the will of the Force, to the Jedi High Council, you we bid welcome."

Obi-Wan nodded and murmured a quiet thank-you. Anakin felt his eyebrows fly up and his mouth drop open. Obi-Wan was on the Council now? So that was why he'd been in the center of the circle.

"Rise to your feet, taking on your new roles, the two of you will do now," Yoda pronounced, and Anakin pulled himself from his knees. He watched as the other Jedi Council members shut off their lightsabers. Obi-Wan walked from the center of the circle to a gap in the ring of Council members and took his place. Anakin marveled for a moment at the dual elevation in rank that had just taken place.

"One night of relaxation and celebration you will take, Jedi Knight Skywalker," Yoda said shrewdly, "For tomorrow, leave again you will. Wait, the war does not."

"Congratulations, Ani." Padmé gave him the warmest smile she could as she stepped into Anakin's apartments. She had agreed to meet Obi-Wan and Anakin here for a brief celebration of both men's rise in rank. It was important, Obi-Wan had said, for Anakin to be made to feel that his new rank was notable.

"Thank you, Senator," Anakin said carefully. He looked her up and down, which made Padmé feel self-conscious, but he stepped back from his door and gestured for Padmé to come inside. She gave him an exaggerated look of chastisement and rolled her eyes.

"Don't call me ' Senator ', please, Ani," she insisted. "Not when you and Obi-Wan are due to leave tomorrow on yet another campaign."

"And what will you do while we're gone?" Anakin asked, pushing a button to shut the door. "Will you stay trapped here on Coruscant?"

"Well, Chancellor Palpatine doesn't want me to go, but I mean to pursue a diplomatic solution to the hyperspace channel crisis," Padmé informed Anakin. He furrowed his brows and said,

"Don't you think you should be escorted if you're going to be meeting with the enemy?"

"Diplomacy requires delicate control over demeanor and connotation, Anakin," Padmé said, shaking her head. "The presence of lightsabers will not help peace talks with the Hutts; it will only make them dig in their heels."

"Or it would, if Hutts had heels to dig in."

Padmé turned at the sound of Obi-Wan's voice. He was walking into Anakin's apartments, a glass bottle clutched in each of his hands. Anakin's voice was friendly as he said,

"Well, if it isn't the newest member of the Jedi High Council."

Obi-Wan set the glass bottles down on the table in the middle of the room and walked to Anakin. He clapped his hand on Anakin's back and gave his former Padawan a little smile before noting,

"If only our respective promotions were not the result of unprecedented war. Ah, well. Beggars and choosers and all that."

He turned to Padmé, and she watched as his eyes flicked up and down her form. His expression flared briefly to one of hunger. Padmé flashed him a crooked grin, amused by how much he liked the sight of her. She had tried hard not to be overdone tonight, but she had still managed to make herself look decent. She wore a floor-length gown that hugged her body before flaring out a bit at her knees. It was crafted of soft, sheer material in a nude shade. The sleeveless, high-necked bodice was elaborately decorated with vibrant gold embellishments, which continued over Padmé's hips and onto the sheer skirts. Her ST-unit cosmetic droid had braided her hair in a fishtail plait that wound its way diagonally around her head, ending in a tight bun below her right ear. Her face was lightly painted with makeup, and Jorallan pearls dangled from her ears.

Obi-Wan visibly hesitated as he looked at Padmé. Then, seeming to decide it wasn't worth pretending anymore, he asked in a soft voice,

"However do you manage it, Senator? Looking more lovely every single time I see you?"

Padmé rolled her eyes. "I'm a woman of many talents, General Kenobi."

Anakin looked very uncomfortable beside Obi-Wan, and Padmé decided to deflect the conversation away from her looks. She pointed to the glass bottles Obi-Wan had set on the table and said, "Corellian rum? Shesharilian vodka? Stars… you did come prepared, didn't you?"

Obi-Wan curled up his mouth mischievously as he watched Anakin move to the table and study the bottles. Anakin quirked up an eyebrow and said accusingly,

"You so very rarely allowed me to get drunk as a Padawan, Master."

"Well, a Padawan you are no longer," Obi-Wan said matter-of-factly. "You've got juice in your conservator, I assume?"

Anakin smiled and nodded. He gestured to the conservator in the little kitchen area. "There's ghibli juice in there."

As the men prepared drinks, Padmé fiddled with the radio panel on the wall until she found a station broadcasting good instrumental music. She turned the volume low enough to allow for conversation, and she walked with Obi-Wan and Anakin into the sitting area. The three of them sipped drinks of rum, vodka, and ghibli juice for well over an hour, just talking. Padmé found after a few minutes that Anakin Skywalker was rather charming and pleasant when he'd decided to be. The two Jedi joked about battle droids, imitating their voices and their movements. They teased one another about their shortcomings in battle. For once, the inherent tension of wartime gave way to an easy relaxation. It would be brief, Padmé knew, but it was very important for all of their sanity.

"Did you hear that one battle droid to the others when you'd just taken down five of them at once?" Obi-Wan laughed as he shook his head, and Anakin grinned as he imitated the tinny sound of the droids speaking.

" Uhhh… it isn't very fun to fight them when they're this efficient. "

"And what of the good droids?" Padmé asked over the men's laughter. She took a sip of her sweet drink, blinking through the dizziness that was coming on. "Did Artoo do well for you in battle?"

"He's excellent," Anakin said, raising his glass. "I might have to keep him."

"If you think he's necessary for your war effort, Anakin, by all means take him with you," Padmé said. She sipped again at her drink and gave a sarcastic shrug. "I've got my ST unit to do my hair and makeup, so I'm all set, I suppose."

Obi-Wan snorted with laughter at that. His voice was slurred as he shook his head and said firmly, "You don't need a droid to make you pretty, Padmé. You know that. Isn't she beautiful all on her own, Anakin?"

Padmé's eyes went wide. She was shocked at Obi-Wan's boldness. It seemed Anakin was, as well. His cheeks colored a bit at Obi-Wan's question, and he squared his jaw. He spoke into his glass of liquor as he murmured,

"Very beautiful, Master."

Padmé suddenly sensed the effortless joy from earlier evaporating from the room. She set her glass down and rose, moving toward Obi-Wan and meaning to confiscate his drink. It was obvious he'd had more than enough. But as Padmé walked, her drunken feet stumbled over the long hem over her gown, and she tripped. She flailed her arms outward, distantly prepared to break her own fall. She was surprised to feel strong hands grasping her forearms, pulling her up to stand, and she raised her eyes to see Anakin Skywalker above her. He had flown to his feet and caught Padmé, and she wondered whether he'd sensed her tripping before she'd actually done it. She studied his face, not much minding that his hands were still clamped around her arms. She was too tipsy to look away, for he was very interesting just now. His eyes were blue, Padmé realized. Not quite so blue as Obi-Wan's, but still vibrant. They glittered a bit as Anakin breathed through clenched teeth, and Padmé felt his fingers tighten around her before he asked,

"Can you stand, Padmé?"

Padmé blinked quickly a few times, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. She nodded, and Anakin released her arms. Padmé turned her face to see that Obi-Wan, too, had risen from his chair. He seemed much more sober now than he'd been before, and Padmé wondered whether he'd erased the alcohol from his veins using the Force. He put a hand between Padmé's shoulders rather protectively, and he looked downright ashamed of himself as he murmured,

"Right. Too much for all of us, probably. Padmé, I'll take you back to your rooms."

"I'm fine. I can… I can walk on my own." Padmé plopped herself down onto one of the chairs and reached beneath her skirts to yank at her tall golden shoes. She held one of the shoes up, knowing her words were blurry with drink as she insisted, "I just need… need to walk barefoot is all. Then I won't fall."

Anakin and Obi-Wan were both standing above her, and they exchanged a quick glance that spoke volumes. Anakin's eyes seared into his former master, and his arms were crossed tightly over his dark tunic. Obi-Wan sighed deeply, and his face was rather sad. He held his hand out to Padmé and said in a gentle voice,

"Come with me, will you?"

Padmé frowned. Why was Obi-Wan bossing her around like this? She reached for her glass on the table beside her and swigged the remaining liquor and juice down. She made a face as she swallowed it, laughing as she noted,

"I think the last two of those were much stronger than the first two."

"Padmé." Obi-Wan's voice was rather firm now, and Padmé scowled up at him. She felt a little pressure on her mind, something willing her to stand up and take Obi-Wan's hand. She huffed and snarled impulsively,

"Get out of my head, General Kenobi!"

Anakin gave his master an alarmed look, and Obi-Wan's cheeks went scarlet. He lowered his hand and took a moment to collect himself before he said to his former Padawan,

"Be sure she gets back to her rooms safely, Anakin. I'm off to sleep; we've a busy day tomorrow. Goodnight, Padmé."

Padmé watched him leave, surprised by his abrupt exit. She blinked a few times, feeling the room sway around her, and she turned back to Anakin. She was very drunk now. The liquor was settling into her veins, into her head, and Padmé knew she should follow Obi-Wan's lead and go to sleep. She put her head into her hand and mumbled,

"He's right; I should just go to bed."

"I'll walk you back," Anakin said. He reached for Padmé's elbow and helped her up from the chair. Padmé hooked her two shoes over her right hand and linked her other arm with Anakin's. She leaned on him more than she would have liked to do as they walked from his rooms, and she said with embarrassment,

"Liquor always hits me much harder than I mean for it to. I always get… so much more tipsy than I intend to get. I'm sorry, Ani."

"Obi-Wan has a distinct advantage over you when it comes to drinking," Anakin said smoothly, guiding Padmé down the corridor. "Jedi can sober ourselves up using the Force."

"I know. Obi-Wan told me… one time he told me that he helped Qui-Gon Jinn get sober when… Oh, I don't really remember the story." Everything was spinning now, and Padmé paused her steps for a moment and shut her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Anakin asked, and Padmé nodded gravely. Once she found her balance, she walked again with Anakin. Soon enough they were in front of her apartment. It occurred to Padmé that Dormé was probably already asleep. Very much on instinct - and against the judgment her sober mind would have had - Padmé leaned up to touch Anakin's cheek. She thought of the little boy on Tatooine, and she smiled at how he'd grown into a man.

"You're a Jedi Knight, all right," she slurred. "Thank you, Ani, for being such a valiant escort. Congratulations again."

She turned to open her door, but Anakin's hand on her arm prompted her to turn back. She blinked up at him, seeing the look of determination in his bright blue eyes. Then he did something very shocking. His hands clamped around Padmé's shoulders, and he put his lips against hers. Padmé squealed, appalled by the action. She staggered back and hit the wall, and her hands flew to Anakin's chest. She pushed at him, and he finally tore his lips from hers.

Padmé reached up and smacked Anakin's cheek as hard as she could, feeling her fingers and palm burn at once. Anakin's cheek went crimson, and his eyes hardened, but he did not release Padmé's shoulders.

"Obi-Wan stormed out of my sitting room because you wouldn't go with him," Anakin noted, his voice gravelly. "If he loves you so much, Padmé, why would he abandon you?"

"Anakin, please just go." Padmé pushed again at Anakin's chest, suddenly frightened of him as his fingers cinched on her shoulders. She wouldn't have had the strength to physically fight him off while sober, much less after far too much vodka and rum. She shut her eyes and whimpered a little, wishing that Anakin would just walk away.

"For ten years, I dreamed of you," he was saying, and one of his hands moved to stroke Padmé's cheek. She felt tears come to her eyes, for she was profoundly uncomfortable with Anakin's touch and his words. She wrenched her eyes shut tightly and screamed inside her head.

Obi-Wan, please, please come here!

"I dreamed for years about what it would taste like to kiss you." Anakin's breath was hot against her lips, and he smelled strongly of alcohol. Padmé felt him press his body against hers, and she was horrified to feel an insistent firmness against her abdomen. She pushed once more at his chest, but Anakin whispered in a tortured voice, "You taste so much better than anything I could have imagined."

Ksshhh…

"Step away from her, Anakin. Now ."

Padmé's eyes flew open to see Obi-Wan Kenobi standing behind Anakin. His lightsaber was out, glowing a vivid blue in the dim corridor. Anakin looked over his shoulder at his former master, and his hands released Padmé. But he did not step away, and Obi-Wan's face contorted. Suddenly Anakin was thrown backward, and his feet stumbled as he careened against the opposite wall. He bent over at his waist, panting as something apparently happened inside his head. Obi-Wan spun his lightsaber slowly, adjusting his grip on his hilt as if prepared for a fight. When at last Anakin stood upright, Padmé could tell that something had changed.

He was suddenly sober, first of all. The glassy drunk look in his eyes had given way to a dry clarity. Anakin's mouth fell open as he looked from Obi-Wan's lightsaber to Padmé and back. His mouth twitched, and he stared at his boots as he mumbled,

"My sincere apologies, Senator. I let the drink come over me and I… well… I'm sorry. Goodnight."

He moved to walk past Obi-Wan, but the older man held his hand up to Anakin's chest to make him pause. Obi-Wan stared at Padmé, but he directed his words to Anakin. His tone was frightening.

"Come anywhere near her again, Anakin… ever … and my response will not be nearly so diplomatic. Go."

"Yes, Master." Anakin's voice was empty, for the honorific held no real meaning anymore. He stalked away, and Obi-Wan's hand dropped to his side. His eyes looked afraid then, and Padmé knew why. Even in her drunkenness, she knew why he was afraid. It wasn't just that he'd feared what Anakin would do to her. He was afraid, she could see, of how he'd reacted. He'd pulled a lightsaber on his former student. He'd been deeply possessive of Padmé. All of this, Padmé knew, was very frightening for Obi-Wan Kenobi. He shut off his lightsaber and tucked the hilt into his utility belt, and he closed the distance between himself and Padmé.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked, and Padmé nodded up at him. She was alarmed by the way his breath heaved through his shaking lips, by the pain she could read in his eyes.

"I'm fine," she whispered, though she wasn't sure she'd feel so fine in the morning.

"He was right about one thing, at least," Obi-Wan murmured, shaking his head as he pressed the button to open her door, "I should never have left you alone with him."

Obi-Wan put a hand to the small of her back and guided her into her apartments. Padmé shrugged as they reached her bedroom. "How could you have possibly known that he would do something like… like that ?"

Obi-Wan's fingers fumbled at the nape of Padmé's neck to unzip her gown, and Padmé stepped out of it. Obi-Wan's voice was frustrated as he moved to her wardrobe and yanked out a plain nightdress.

"I have sensed a growing darkness inside of him. I should never have trusted him alone with you. I let myself get emotional earlier, and I… this is all my fault."

Padmé was clumsy as she yanked on the white nightgown. When her head popped out of the garment, she swayed on her feet and reached for Obi-Wan's arms to support herself. He guided her toward her bed, and she murmured,

"None of this is your fault. I love you so much . You have to know that. Promise me that when you come back from -"

"Oh, no. I'm not leaving you now," Obi-Wan interrupted her. She was dizzy as he pulled her blankets up around her and urged her head onto her pillow. "I was tasked with keeping you safe, Padmé, and that is what I mean to do. I'll be going with you to negotiate with the Hutts about the hyperspace lanes."

Padmé shook her head, letting her eyes fall shut. "You're supposed to go with Anakin to track the -"

"I'm going with you to negotiate with the Hutts about the hyperspace lanes." Obi-Wan repeated. His voice was slow and steady then, as if he were willing that reality into being. Perhaps he was doing that. Padmé had no idea what he could really do. She opened her eyes and saw that he was kneeling beside her bed.

"It was a bad idea to get Anakin drunk," she noted, but Obi-Wan shook his head and stared at a loose thread on Padmé's blanket.

"On the contrary, I think it revealed even more of the darkness that I knew already to be within him. I am certainly losing him, Padmé. I will not lose you, too."

He leaned his head onto his hand, and his breath shook fiercely as Padmé reached to stroke his cheek. It was mildly terrifying to see him coming unhinged, and she felt guilty that it was all over her. She moved his face so that he would look at her, and she nearly cried at the sight of his sorrowful eyes.

"Go to sleep," he whispered unsteadily. "I'll be here when you wake."

"Will you hold me?" Padmé asked, feeling sleep washing over her. She wondered distantly whether Obi-Wan was making her fall asleep, but she couldn't muster the strength to fight him on it. She managed to pat the blanket beside her, and the words were thick on her tongue as she said again, "Lie next to me and hold me, will you?"

"I'm going to stay right here. Just rest." His fingers laced through hers, and he did not move from where he knelt beside the bed.

As Padmé slipped into the ether of sleep, she could once again feel the horrid sensation of Anakin's mouth on hers and his hands gripping her. She whimpered a bit, and the image was yanked almost violently from her mind. Obi-Wan had taken the image, she could tell. What he did with it, Padmé did not know. There was a heavy emptiness in her mind then that took a moment to settle. Then there was lightness - whirling, pivoting weightlessness. Then she could see herself and Obi-Wan aboard the shuttle from Kamino. He was kissing her against the wall, both of them naked, and he was whispering to her that he loved her.

It was a wonderful thing to remember as she dreamed. Padmé hummed happily in her sleep, wondering what exactly it had been to get her so upset earlier. She couldn't remember now, and she no longer cared.

"Good morning."

Obi-Wan eyed Padmé carefully from where he sat on the floor. He was leaning against the wall of Padmé's bedroom, having spent most of the night alternating between calming meditation and careful alteration of Padmé's memory. As she pushed herself up to her elbows, she touched her fingers to her forehead and murmured something about a hangover. Obi-Wan felt his chest clench as her eyes met his, and he wondered whether he had been successful.

"Why are you on the floor?" Padmé asked, quirking up half her mouth. Obi-Wan's throat was dry as he answered,

"It did not seem right to put myself in your bed when you were so inebriated."

Padmé scoffed, but her smile grew. She yawned and murmured, "You are an honorable man, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Yes, Obi-Wan realized at once. He had been successful. Padmé had no memory of what Anakin had done to her the night before. Under normal circumstances, Obi-Wan would not consider wiping Padmé's memory. It was a risky and invasive thing to do. But he loved her, very deeply indeed, and he had found himself unable to accept her being traumatized.

Of course, Obi-Wan would always remember the terrible sight of her pressed against the wall as Anakin touched her and whispered to her. He would never forget the way she'd begged Anakin to leave, the way she'd screamed for Obi-Wan in her mind.

It had been an eye-opening revelation of the worst kind to witness the darkness that was consuming Anakin Skywalker. Jealousy and desire had swirled inside of Anakin and had revealed what he was capable of doing. Obi-Wan would probably never be able to forgive Anakin, and his view of the newly appointed Jedi Knight was forever tainted and scarred. But at the very least, the woman Obi-Wan loved would not have to deal with the memory of being assaulted. That was, perhaps, the only step Obi-Wan could take toward ameliorating his own sin of leaving her on her own when she was too drunk to walk properly.

"I'm going with you to negotiate with the Hutts about the hyperspace channels," he said matter-of-factly, and Padmé looked confused for a moment. She sat up, arching her back to stretch a bit.

"I thought you and Anakin were going to Druckenwell to track down droid foundries?"

Obi-Wan gulped. He would not lie to her now, so he said simply, "General Jai Maruk is going with Anakin to Druckenwell. I just spoke with Master Yoda about it an hour ago. Druckenwell is General Maruk's homeworld, so it's no trouble. I will be escorting you to negotiations with the Hutts."

Padmé frowned as she pulled herself from her bed, but she said lightly, "Well, if I have to have an armed guard, I'm glad it will be the one they call 'The Negotiator.'" She moved toward her 'fresher, and Obi-Wan pulled himself from the ground at last. As Padmé opened the door to the 'fresher, she turned and looked right at Obi-Wan. For an instant, her face was so serious that Obi-Wan felt a spike of nausea. Then she murmured, "Something happened last night that you aren't telling me."

Obi-Wan's mouth fell open, and he struggled to find words. He licked his bottom lip and prepared to speak, but Padmé said firmly,

"If you of all people think it necessary to omit something from my mind… I trust you. I don't want to know. I'll be quick getting ready; can you check that the shuttle will be ready to go within an hour or two?"

Then she slipped into the 'fresher and shut the door behind her, leaving Obi-Wan breathless in her bedroom.