From the flashing satin ball gowns and pressed silk suits, the sparkling jewels dangling from earlobes and lekkus alike, and the melodious blending sounds of polite chatter and hearty laughter all present at the opera house, one might never believe a war was happening. They especially wouldn't believe that the very planet they were currently on had been directly attacked only days prior.

All of Coruscant's elite, from politicians to powerful blood families, were scattered around the main entrance, their blaring affluent looks serving as a sharp contrast to Anakin's muted robes. It eerily reminded him of his childhood on Tatooine watching the pompous off-worlders wander around Mos Espa, or the cantinas filled with crime-lords jangling credits in their pockets from collected bounties and spice shipments. If any of them had even breathed the same air as a slave boy like himself, they surely would've withered up and died in their disgust. Even when Padmé had taken him to her family's home on Naboo for the first time, he had been breathlessly overwhelmed, forced to call back on Obi-Wan's lessons on diplomatic politeness when they had served tea in cups probably worth more than his speeder.

His cloak billowed up the stairs as he quickened his pace, casting a quick glance at a large, ticking chrono hung near the massive chandeliers. His shoulder brushed by a tall Chiss woman, her indigo skin mimicking the night sky above and accentuating the red voids of her eyes—which were glaring at him. Sharp, claw-like nails held a flute of blood-red wine, some of which, on impact with Anakin, had spilled down her exposed collar-bone to stain the front of her ivory gown.

Anakin was sure she would've chewed him out if it wasn't for the saber at his hip, the weapon halting her sneer as a frantic protocol droid began dabbing at her front with a cloth napkin.

"My deepest apologies, madam," Anakin said, managing a slight wince before he continued on his rampant blunder into the building. The woman only scoffed, shoving her panicking droid away and brushing at her ruined skirts.

"Those damned Jedi," she hissed, stomping away to the refreshers.

Already having put the incident in the back of his mind, Anakin skidded past more of the crowds of rich and powerful. Yet, just as they had with the Chiss woman, his Jedi robes offered him a layer of protection, most people stepping hastily out of his way as he barreled through the halls, some gazes curious, and some nervous as they toiled over what a Jedi Knight could possibly be doing traipsing in the upper levels of Coruscant on a relatively quiet evening. Since the wars' beginning, the sight of a Jedi usually brought trouble along with it, and seeing as most of Coruscant's petty crime occurred in the lower levels, most of these people had probably never been within a few feet of a Jedi, let alone seen one.

Through his holonet fame however, Anakin was sure most of the gaping folk around him knew exactly who he was, which was all he needed to easily filter through the awed crowds and finally locate the Chancellor's personal box, his armed guards giving him a sharp nod before letting him through.

Just as Padmé had thought, he had been late, having struggled weaving through the late Coruscanti traffic while Luke had gripped the side of the speeder with a death grip, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull and his hair whipping violently around his face.

"Do you always drive so recklessly?" He had shouted over the speeding wind, switching his grip to his restraint harness to check its secureness over his chest for the fifth time. Anakin had only laughed in response, reminded of Obi-Wan's green pallor whenever they drove together, his knees quivering and his shock so strong that he couldn't even properly lecture his student without going faint.

But Luke had arrived safely at the Temple, reminding Anakin once again to keep him updated before he sped away once more, all to find himself here, staring at the giant pulsing bubbles glowing rosily amongst a sea of spinning Mon Calamari dancers and bored spectators with a puzzled frown.

One of the figures sitting in the lofty, plush chairs before him spun around, white eyes piercing and calculating. Anakin bowed low to the ground, head held stiff for the standard three seconds before rising to meet more familiar blue eyes.

"Anakin, my boy!" Palpatine rose from his chair with a broad grin, arms outstretched with welcoming air. He quickly shooed at the Umbaran woman sitting beside him, whom Anakin recognized as the man's Chief of Staff, Sly Moore. She rose with a rigid spine, her pale features glimmering like a corpse up against the reflecting lights of the ballet. She nodded at Anakin as she passed him by, migrating to the open seat beside Mas Amedda, Palpatine's Vice Chair. "Come sit, sit," the Chancellor continued at him, patting the newly available seat with a curled palm.

"I must be asking your forgiveness for my tardiness, Chancellor. I got here as fast as I could," Anakin said, crossing his ankles together as he folded into the cushions.

Palpatine chuckled at him, patting his knee. "Oh, no need for all that, Anakin. I asked you here as a friend. "

Anakin frowned. "So you don't have information for the Council?"

"Oh no, no, I do. I have had intelligence brought to me quite recently, but as I said, I wanted to discuss this with a more...trustworthy source." Palpatine's grin split neatly up his wrinkled cheeks. "I chose you and Mister Starkiller to be my direct line with the Jedi Council to ease the tensions. I thought it would be an offering of cooperation, seeing as they seem to have lost faith in my abilities as a leader. You were the best person, in my mind, to mend that little tear, and Luke served as fresh blood—a neutral opinion. After all, internal mistrust and biased ideals is the last thing we need if this conflict is to ever end, no?"

Anakin bit his cheek, prosthetic hand jerking as he tugged at the hems of his robes. He collected the Force around him, letting its warm, trickling presence ease him into a state of conscious meditation. Palpatine was staring at him patiently, a thin eyebrow raised in a bemused curve. Anakin cleared his throat.

"I am grateful for your confidence in me, sir."

Palpatine gave another chuckle. "You are too modest, Anakin. You're the best General the Republic Army could ever ask for. The holonet didn't take to you just because of your looks, you know."

Ducking his head in a rare moment of embarrassment, Anakin rubbed at his neck and turned to see if Sly and Mas were listening in. To his surprise, the both of them had gone, their chairs unnervingly vacant. It wasn't very often that his awareness of other presences in the Force around him were so dulled. He should've sensed their departure.

"So...the information you had, Chancellor?" he asked, turning back around and raising his voice to speak over the crescendoing music. He only hoped it would cover up the doubtful inflection in his tone.

Palpatine's face lit up in reminder, pride echoing around his Force signature. "Ah, yes. It is quite good news, you'll find. The best in months. Our Clone Intelligence Units have discovered the location of General Grievous in the Utapau system."

Anakin leaned back as if he had just been sucker-punched in the gut, struggling to keep his jaw from hanging agape. "That—that's fantastic news, sir. When did they tell you this? We'll have to act fast before that sleemo gets wind of our tail on him. He'll be on the first available cruiser off that rock the moment he loses the upper hand. Losing him again isn't an option."

Palpatine held up a hand, nodding along gently despite Anakin's sharp tone. "I'm fully aware of the importance, Anakin. In fact, I would worry about the collective wisdom of the Council if they didn't select you to apprehend him, hence why I wanted to let you know tonight, so you could show them tomorrow morning that you are the best choice by far. Alas, they can't always be trusted to do the right thing."

For a moment, Anakin was so distracted by the buzzing thoughts of how close they were to ending the war, how it could be just days away, that he almost missed the note of resentment staining the Chancellor's voice. He snuck a glance over at the fluid movements of the aquatic ballerinas, almost envious of their swift, blissful movements, oblivious to the sudden dark cloud that had blanketed over the Force.

Padmé's pleading eyes floated in and out of his headspace, a constant reminder of her request. A request he was beginning to feel like, if he brought up now, he'd be risking Palpatine's trust in him by echoing the treasonous-sounding fears of the Council about the amount of power he had accumulated over the years.

It wasn't like he could pretend the Chancellor's own hesitations were unjustified though. Palpatine had become like a father-figure to him in his youth, and unlike those close to him, Anakin saw the dedication in those crinkled eyes.

The Council had been very open about their concerns over the man's long-extended term, enough so that they had called for Anakin to report on his movements. For the Jedi to actively concern themselves so deeply with the political atmosphere of the Republic was not a common occurrence. However, Anakin had seen the same level of concern on Obi-Wan's face as he had on his wife's—had felt the thrumming apprehension slowly building up inside both of them. Even Luke, who had known them all for a few days, had been thrown off, his usual casual friendliness transformed into that of a desperate, war-weary soldier that ached to save every last soul he could. Surely not all of their misgivings about the Chancellor were unwarranted.

He took a deep breath, faltering as Palpatine's gaze intensified. "Yes, well, if we do capture him, the war could be over in a few rotations. The Separatist Council will have no choice but to surrender."

Palpatine continued peering at him, eyes narrowed as he watched him dodge his comments. That usual cocksure attitude he was accustomed to seeing in the young man had vanished in an instant. "I am also aware of that, Master Skywalker. Your point?"

Anakin didn't bother to correct the ranking, already wincing at the transition from his first name to his title. "I just wanted to know what your plans were after all of this. You've served such a long term, as long as I've been in the Order. Surely, you've grown weary of all this?"

"Politics has always been part of my life, young man. I have no intention of giving it up."

"Yes, of course, I just meant...as Chancellor. Such a high ranking position, so much responsibility... You've done so much for the Republic, sir, and you know I'd hate to see you step down, but—"

"But it is my democratic duty to vacate my emergency powers after the conflict and pass down the mantle to the next Senate-elected official?" Palpatine's eyes were now slits, his wrinkles more prominent and stretched. Anakin, recognizing the hostile energy, responded with a faint nod. He wasn't sure he had ever made the Chancellor so angry at him before.

Then, as quick as his anger came, it vanished, smoothed over by a neutral, almost Jedi-like face, his hands folded neatly over his lap. "Anakin, you must know that the Senate has had some corruption issues as of late. Individual Senators have taken the opportunities the chaos of the war has brought for their own personal agendas, negating the very democracy the Republic is supposed to stand for. In order to ensure that the transition into peace-time is smooth, I must stay on as Chancellor and maintain my emergency powers. Casting me aside for new leadership could toss us into another decline, or worse, another war. Taking me down is exactly what those corrupt people want. Exactly what the Jedi Council wants." He hummed in thought, ignoring Anakin's disquiet. "And was it not you who told me that you believed the decisions of one person are much more effective than the group?"

Anakin lowered his head, his brain burning in contemplation. If he agrees to step down once the war is done, then there's no issue... Padmé had said, her mouth drawn and more serious than he had ever seen her. She had known it was going to be an issue from the start, of course. He saw that now. She never would've brought it up on just a hunch. This was bigger than all of them, the very fate of the Republic hanging in the air.

He almost missed his prosthetic gripping the armrest of his chair with an unnaturally strong hold, parts of the cushion seam ripping to expose the stuffing. "With all due respect, Chancellor, I said that when I was a Padawan. Before this war changed a lot of my perspective."

"I see..." Palpatine hummed again, his focus riveted on the dancers, who had twisted into their final positions before the lights signaled for intermission. "Your troubles with the Council have cleared then, I suppose? Not my doing, I would hope."

"No, sir, I—" Anakin groaned. "I know the Order isn't perfect, and I know they don't trust you. They've made a lot of mistakes, making themselves into puppets for the political whims of the Senate instead of maintaining our duties as keepers of the peace. I've seen the loss of faith in them, from both myself and my own Padawan." He choked back the image of Ahsoka nodding after him on board one of the flagships, the tormented aura surrounding her far too hardened for a girl so young. "But I don't believe they're traitors, Your Excellency. Just desperately in need of reform."

Palpatine huffed. "And these mistakes you bring up...does this not include, perhaps, asking you to do something dishonest? Against the moral code they claim to stand for?"

Anakin suddenly paused, heart in his throat. "I—"

"They asked you to spy on me, didn't they?"

Shuffling in his seat, Anakin began looking at his hands, jaw tight. "I don't know what to say, sir."

Palpatine simply clucked in distaste, shaking his head like that of a stern, disappointed father. "Remember back to your early teachings, Anakin. All who gain power are afraid to lose it. Even the Jedi."

"But the Jedi use their power for good."

"Good is a point of view. One could say that the Sith and the Jedi are similar in their quest for power, hence their ongoing rivalry."

Anakin stared, a bit unperturbed to hear the Chancellor commenting on the complexities of the differing Force philosophies. The man may have worked closely with the Jedi over the years, but he could never truly understand the Force unless he could sense it himself. He supposed it was the politician in him, anxious to comment on any source of conflict he could find.

He shook his head. "The Sith rely on their passion for their strength. They think inwards, only about themselves."

Palpatine shot him a look. "And the Jedi don't?"

"The Jedi are selfless. They only care about others."

As Anakin spoke, Palpatine felt his tight semblance of control slipping further and further away from him. For over a decade he had groomed this boy to fall to him at his most desperate hour, to manipulate his anxieties and eventually use his abilities for his own gain, taking out the Jedi when they least expected it, and from one of their own, nonetheless. Anakin would serve his purpose as his apprentice, just as so many others had before him. The amount of power he had inside him was hypnotizing, and the amount of fear he had was fresh for the taking. Everything had been falling neatly into place, all according to plan—except for that time-traveling nuisance of a boy. Admittedly, his power was just as enthralling, but it was obvious that getting someone who had seen the future to trust him would be next to impossible.

Luke Skywalker, like all who discovered his Plan too early, needed to be disposed of, and in more ways than one.

He was more than aware of the close relationship between Anakin and Senator Amidala, otherwise he wouldn't have dove deep into the Force to snatch those dreams from the dark recesses of the young Jedi's pool of anxieties. Anakin was a very protective person, as his record showed. If anything were to befall his lover, the level of distraught and agony would be all Sidious needed to drag him over to the Dark. And, with her death, not only would the excruciating pain of her pestering existence be gone from Sidious's life, but her child's would be as well. It was perfect.

Anakin would never disclose any information about his breaking of the Jedi Code to the Council. If his fears were ever brought up, they would be dismissed, just as they had been with his mother years ago. In his desperation to save his wife and child, he would be vulnerable to anything, no matter who tried to convince him otherwise.

Luke was on his way to being out of the picture—another personal attachment ripped from Anakin's arms—and once he was, Sidious could pounce. But first he had to plant the seed.

"Have you ever heard the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?" he asked, flashing a crooked smile.

Anakin blinked at the sudden change in topic, opening his mouth to question it before shaking his head. "No, sir. I haven't."

"I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you." His eyes flashed. "It's a Sith legend."

Chest tight, Anakin let himself wish that Luke had accompanied him. He wasn't used to feeling so discombobulated. Normally, meetings with the Chancellor were his favorite part of the day, a time to unwind and talk with someone who understood his personal struggles—someone who allowed him to express some emotion from time to time without scolding him on it. Yet, like before, all he could think was that, "You've been talking a lot about the Sith, sir. May I ask how you came upon all this information?"

Palpatine blinked innocently. "A few of my advisors suggested I brush up on the history of the Force and its differing philosophies, seeing as we're fighting a war in which our enemy is led by a Sith Lord, or at least a Fallen Jedi as I've been told. My curiosity slowly got the best of me, of course. All of it is wildly fascinating to someone like myself, who cannot feel the Force as you do."

Anakin nodded along, glancing over the man's signature with an intrigued poke. He was overcome with a wave of passion and determination, but Palpatine gave no reaction to the probe—as expected from a non-Force-sensitive—his hands gesticulating as he pushed onward.

"But Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and wise that he could use the Force to influence the midi-chlorians and create life." He paused to gauge Anakin's skeptical reaction. "He had such a knowledge of the Dark Side that he could even keep the ones he cared about...from dying."

Carefully, his shields heavily saturated with internal suppressors, keeping all Force users from his mind, Sidious tapped back into the leaking memory in Skywalker's brain, smirking as the subdued echoes of Amidala's wails bubbled to the surface. Anakin winced in his chair, face draining for a fleeting moment before he cleared his throat. His own Force presence shoved back on the images, which allowed Sidious to slither back out, undetected.

He studied the thin purse of Anakin's lips, his eyes dilating in and out. "He...could actually save people from death?" From the slight reluctance in his voice, it was evident that Anakin had nearly forgotten about the nightmare, distracted as he had been.

"The Dark Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be...unnatural," Palpatine said, his voice dropping considerably. He dangled the temptation closer to Anakin's face, knowing all his political preaching would drain away at the idea of preventing his greatest fear—death.

"And what happened to him?" Anakin asked, scooting closer off the edge of his seat. "This...Darth Plagueis?"

"He became powerful enough to where the only thing he had left to fear was losing that power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, and in his own quest for power, the apprentice killed him in his sleep. It's ironic. He could save others from death, but not himself."

Anakin was boring holes into Palpatine with his eyes. "Is it...possible to learn this power?"

Sidious gave a wide, sadistic smile. "Not from a Jedi."

The Sith quickly shielded himself from Anakin's tumultuous thoughts, his inner conflict brawling between his marvel at the idea of being able to stop death and his nausea at the thought of confining himself to following a path he had always advocated against in order to achieve it. Obi-Wan had told him from the early days of his training that the Dark Side would always sound appealing, as was its very nature.

He knew Palpatine was only bringing up a story relevant to his interests. He mentioned little things on the side to Anakin all the time. After all, he trusted him like his own son, confiding in him about many things that Anakin always felt privileged to hear about. He believed all this because he was sure that Palpatine had no way of knowing about the dreams he had been having. Even with Padmé and Luke's reassurances the first time, they could never let him know for sure that the dream wasn't a premonition. Now there was an opportunity—a possible fabled opportunity, but an opportunity all the same—for him to find something that could put his mind at ease.

Dark Side or not, certainly all the Sith ideals weren't evil incarnate... He hoped.

It's times like these where I really wish one of the Masters could provide some insight without finding a way to chastise me in the process, Anakin thought grumpily, falling back into his chair as Palpatine began to clap for the second act of the show beginning. His gaze quickly fell back to Anakin once the lights dimmed.

"It's just a story, Anakin, one I thought would help you see that the Jedi ideologies aren't the only ones out there. I wasn't aware the particular topic would be of such interest to you, though." He inched forward, arm outstretched in support. "You're worried about someone. Your former student, perhaps? I heard she was on Mandalore with part of your battalion?"

Anakin shook his head, carding his hand through his hair. "It's nothing, Chancellor. Just...in thought." He regathered himself, sitting upright in the chair once more. "Thank you for passing the information on Grievous, the Council will greatly appreciate it."

Palpatine smiled as Anakin rose to leave, his hands clasped by his front as he bowed. "Anytime, my boy. Make sure you give Mister Starkiller my best regarding his health."

Brightening at the mention of Luke, Anakin gave another nod. "I will, Chancellor. May the Force be with You."

"And with you," Palpatine parroted, maintaining his smile until Anakin was out of the door and down the hall. Then, with a low, guttural growl, he swiped at the sleeve of his robe, inputting his message into his commlink with a violent tapping. It quickly buzzed with a returning confirmation, sating his discontent with the comfort that that foolish little Jedi girl was willing to oblige to his every whim.

◂◂◂

"I think your commlink's going off." Luke nodded at a small corner of the room as he positioned himself onto one of the medical cots, rolling up his sleeve in preparation for the vaccine sitting in its sterile tray.

Kirei glanced up from where she was typing his medscan data into the system, braids slinging backwards in her surprise. As she looked over, the pockets of her cloak, thrown over a spare chair, were chirping steadily and glowing with a faint blue light. Her cheeks flushed purple in polite embarrassment.

"You'll have to excuse the disorganization tonight, Mister Starkiller. My Master's in a meeting with Master Che, so he left me to handle the patients." She shuffled across the small room and pulled out the commlink, queuing up her recent notifications with a settling stone in her stomach.

PROCEED, the message read, simple and vague, but enough.

Unable to help herself, she glanced up at Luke, who was smiling softly in understanding. She noticed that his focus was on the room around him however, attentive and upright, as if something was going to leap out and attack him. She couldn't blame him for that. She felt the same.

It was hard maintaining her 'dutiful Padawan' cover around him, mainly because of how fascinating his very existence was. Despite her loss of faith in the Jedi, she never stopped trusting the Force. To know that it could send people through time was a power so intoxicating that it practically demanded her attention.

She pocketed the communicator back in her cloak, moving to pull out a pack of bacta bandages and her pre-prepared needles.

"Speaking of," she continued, hoping to nullify the silence. "That was him now. Checking up on me as always. Never confident in my abilities."
She laughed hollowly at the lie that wasn't really a lie, startled to find Luke now frowning at her, his previous tenseness draining slightly. "He doesn't trust you on your own?"
Kirei tapped absentmindedly on the needle, suddenly as uncomfortable as he had been. "Well, I'm a Padawan learner. He doesn't expect me to know everything. Just enough to maintain the patients."

Luke hummed, nodding. Kirei peered at him over the needle. He seemed awfully curious for someone who hadn't wanted to come in the first place. She'd spent enough time around the likes of Grievous and Sidious to recognize an interrogation. She knew that he knew about Sidious's true identity, but she was confident he didn't know about hers. What was he playing at?
Little did she know, Luke himself wasn't even fully sure what he was hoping to get out of her. Here he was, sat in the middle of the Halls of Healing and doing his best to see how much this Healer girl could tell him. Someone had accessed the files on his blood, and the healers had scheduled his check-up for tonight. Was it to collect more data on him for Sidious? And if not that, then an excuse to keep him away from Anakin, surely. He shuddered to think what doubts and fears Sidious was weaving into his father's head at that very moment.

Yet, he couldn't be sure any of the Healers were in league with the Sith Lord. All he had to go on was coincidence alone. Sidious had discovered things before with his eerie ability to have eyes on his enemies at all times. It had been a joke amongst most Rebellion pilots at the time, hyper-exaggerated stories to scare the rookies about how the Emperor could read your every thought, and even control your thoughts. The Force had many abilities of course, most of them through the mind and the soul, but after first hand experience of watching Sidious summon lightning from his hands, he began to have his doubts on just how exaggerated those stories were. The Sith ideology had a tendency to dive into the unnatural, and mind control, if real, was sure to be one of those things they strived to achieve in their quest for ultimate power.

Premonition, on the other hand, was a thing many Force-sensitives, including himself, encountered, most times involuntarily. The Emperor had supposedly foreseen the attack on the Second Death Star, baiting the Rebellion in what would've been a crippling final defeat...if not for Vader's decision. Foresight only went so far, and visions were not always to be trusted. If Sidious had seen some of the future, and the Force had intentionally revealed Luke's parentage to him, then it had to have been for a reason.

But he just didn't know.

Sighing, he watched the Pantoran girl pull a steady stream of liquid the same hue as her lavender hair into the barrel of the syringe, oddly mesmerised. A small beaded braid dangling behind her right ear caught his attention as well. It melded with the other, larger braids in her hair, yet still managed to stand out through its intricate weavings and colors. "Can I...ask you a question, while I have you?" he tried.

She reacted to his inquiry by gesturing for his arm, prepping the skin near his elbow in search of a vein, all without meeting his eyes. "I suppose," she finally said, her previous politeness a bit muted. Luke noted how tired she looked, and even more notably, how young.

"What's it like being a Padawan?" He finally caught her eye, the unplugged needle still in her hand. "I mean, having a Master, the learning process, everything."

"Why do you ask?"

Luke tugged at his collar with his free hand. "Well, uh, I was raised outside the Temple and taught about the Force in a more...unconventional way. Anakin—sorry—Knight Skywalker recently asked me if I would be interested in being his Padawan, and...I wasn't sure what to tell him. Mainly because I'm not sure how much longer I can stay here on Coruscant with my...other priorities."

Kirei continued to blink at him, marveling over his honesty. On one hand, the development of Skywalker asking his future son to be his Padawan was information she could pass on to Lord Sidious, but on the other, she heard someone asking her for the same advice an Initiate might ask for in the days leading up to their being chosen by a Master. He even held the same lost look of the wide, trusting eyes that sought out aid wherever it was available.

If she hadn't seen the results herself, she might've questioned that this was Skywalker's child at all. She knew Knight Skywalker from his borderline mythical reputation as the Chosen One. He trusted practically no one, especially not with personal matters. If ever questioned on it, he clammed up, defensive and sarcastic to cover up any stray weak points of emotion. Master Che had brought up her fair share of troublesome patients from time to time, and Anakin Skywalker was always at the top of her list.

She lowered the vaccine.

Luke stared at her as she pulled out a chair, sliding it across the floor and sitting to where they could face each other. "Um, are you—"

Kirei raised a hand.

"You do realize that if you become Skywalker's student, the Council will have you on the front lines within a matter of days? Even if they did approve your training, which would be out of character for them given your age, you'd have to fully dedicate yourself to the Code. Whatever outside attachments you already have would have to be irrelevant."

Luke swallowed, recalling how he had asked Anakin about his relationship with Han. "I've heard the talk, and it seems that the war's nearing its end. I already know some basic-level things, but I want to know more. Anakin feels like the right person to do that."

"Maybe. But you don't need the Jedi in order to learn the Force. If you're really dedicated, it's best you stay out of the politics of it all."

"Is that how you feel? Like a political pawn?" Kirei continued blinking at him, the silver of her pupils soaking him in. The genuine understanding in his voice was beyond what she had expected. She was only telling him what she would've told her younger self, given the chance.

"Not always," she admitted, rubbing at her arms. "I never wanted to be a healer, really, but the Order is all I've known. Some strangers who gave me life sent me off as a toddler, and just like that, being a Padawan became my only goal in life. Once Master Osh accepted me, I had to follow his path, not my own. Now, with the war on, and so many Jedi—my friends—dying while I stay here...I feel conflicted. Constantly. I should be doing more in my service to the galaxy."

"I understand that," Luke whispered, almost distant. Kirei squinted up at him, watching his kind smile filter through. "But you shouldn't be ashamed of your healing abilities. I'd argue that the most heroic people in wartime are those that dedicate their time to saving lives, not taking them."

A churn of guilt suddenly jabbed at her sides, churning inside her and bubbling around her ribcage. She looked over at the waiting syringe, almost itching to shatter it against the floor in a fit of passion. Her throat tightened. "I'm not a hero."

"Well you helped heal me. Let me at least be grateful for that."

He gave yet another charming, boyish smile, but Kirei couldn't bring herself to face it. The transmitted holo message was running circles around her brain, a reminder of what she had to do. Ironically enough, Master Osh had always insisted on his moral code of doing what was best for 'the greater good' no matter the individual consequences. The will of the Force was always the path they were supposed to follow, and despite what Sidious might've believed, she didn't blindly trust him. Blindly trusting the Jedi for all those years had gotten her nowhere, after all. What she did believe in was her cause—the idea that the Order needed immediate reform, and that Palpatine was her chance in helping to bring it.

Luke was a danger to that potential future. Force, he was that future.

She couldn't allow herself to hesitate. Not anymore.

The syringe clanged noisily against the metal tray as she picked it up, flicking at its contents and triple-checking the dosage she had been instructed to give. To her surprise, Luke's outstretched arm was still in place, the prepped spot on his elbow having since evaporated. She quickly re-swabbed the skin and slid the needle's tip into a bulging vein, practiced hands steady despite the restlessness she felt.

"Alright, so like I said, this should help clear out any lasting ailments left over from your electrocution. You might still get a flare up here and there, especially if you don't let yourself rest like we asked you to, but there's a mild sedative in it, so the wooziness is normal. Just a side effect." Kirei was back to her regular, monotonous healer voice, thumbing the syringe's plunger deep in and watching the liquid disappear into Luke's arm. "Besides that, your medscan's all clear and your blood is healthy. Strong midichlorian count."

As she removed the needle and wrapped the entry wound with a quick bacta patch, she watched with a bit of alarm as Luke's face drained of color. She was seconds away from thinking she had done something incorrectly when he spoke, "Can I ask who all has access to my bloodwork?"

She released some of her tension into the Force, moving back to finish cleaning up her station. It was inevitable that he would ask about it. The blood was the only way anyone could've found out about his real parentage, and the Halls of Healing had a file with his blood in it. Sidious had prepared her for him putting two and two together. As long as he didn't suspect her.

"Every healer has access to the medical records, but we maintain a strict patient confidentiality. We use blood work in the Temple to measure midichlorian levels as well as checking for infections. I apologize if we took it without your permission, but we needed to check your levels and you were unconscious at the time," she explained, watching Luke bob his head, his face still pale.

"So nobody goes any deeper than that? Say...theoretically...genetics?"

Kirei held back her smirk as he failed to cover his wince. He knew he was treading on dangerous territory. "It can. But there's no reason to trace your family background unless we needed a particular DNA match for certain surgeries or transfusions."

Luke absorbed the information with a steadying breath, trying to reassure himself as best he could. Whether or not Sidious had an insider in the Temple, he needed to focus on his task at hand—his father. Based on Kirei's reaction alone, he was starting to realize how big of an honor it was for Anakin to request to teach him. Accepting that offer was probably just the catalyst he needed to finally be one step ahead of Palpatine.

He rose from his seat on the medical cot, reaching out a hand to shake before the world swiveled upside down, sending him stumbling. Kirei grabbed his shoulders to hold him upright, eyebrows raised to her hairline.

"Told you. Woozy. It takes a pretty quick effect, so make sure you get to rest as soon as you return, no questions."

Luke blinked at her, the edges of his vision tinting red before he steadied himself with a heavy cough. Guess asking Anakin about his visit with Palpatine would have to wait until morning. At least I'll finally get a decent night's sleep, he thought with a semi-lucid chuckle.

Kirei was still patting his shoulder, leading him out of the room and to the exit where Anakin was waiting by the door, looking as exhausted as he felt. He and Kirei exchanged a few words, which all sounded muddled and convoluted to his ears, before they were finally leaving. Anakin, wisely recognizing Luke's drugged up state, stayed silent.

His Force presence trickled with a kind of unease that Luke couldn't pinpoint, but eventually, his swimming mind refused to let him think further, dropping him down and barely registering as Anakin helped him into his apartment, across the hall, and to the empty bedroom parallel from his own—the room that, unbeknownst to Luke, had once been occupied by Ahsoka Tano.

Anakin paid the irony no mind as he slid Luke's boots off and onto the floor below, resigning to maintain his privacy and let him sleep in his robes. Tepid snores signalled his cue to leave, which he did with a final onceover of Luke's still silhouette. He envied the ease of his slumber as he trudged into his own room, left contemplating the Chancellor's words through the hours leading to dawn.

◂◂◂

A deep throbbing in his temples combined by the abrupt shaking of his shoulders pulled Luke out of the blissful void of his sleep, the firm pillow grinding up against his neck like it was made of sharp metal. He squinted up at Anakin, who was leaning over him with a plate of scrambled nuna eggs.

There were dark circles cradled under his eyes, but he covered them up with an easy smile, shoving the plate in Luke's face and helping him sit up. "I let you sleep in a bit. Padawan Barizaan said you would need your energy." He shoved the plate closer, forcing Luke to sit up. "They're not as good as Padmé's, but they're edible."

Luke snorted, blinking away his remaining grogginess and quickly inhaling the warm meal, his stomach rumbling gratefully. Anakin was already dressed in his robes, the usual wrinkles pressed and his hair tamed around his shoulders. From the thin strips of light leaking through the blinds, Luke could tell how early in the day it was. Despite Padmé's teasing of her husband's heavy sleeping, it was obvious that the Order had instilled an internal body clock into him whenever he stayed at the Temple, able to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed before the sun could peek over the horizon. Years with Uncle Owen rushing him to tweak the vaporators before the peak of the suns' heat had given Luke a similar experience, but even then he had been a sluggish, lazy teenager, always tugging his bucket hat over his eyes and ducking inside the garage for a nap as soon as he was done working. His Jedi instincts were high-strung, but his body always won out in the end, today more so than usual. Kirei hadn't been kidding about the side effects of that drug.

Anakin caught on as Luke yawned through his bites, his blue eyes fluttering drunkenly. He passed him a bulb of water, patting his knee encouragingly before rising off the edge of the bed. "We have a meeting with the Council in a few hours. Chancellor Palpatine gave me some information to pass to them."

Luke used the Force's aid to pull his focus back to the waking world, chugging the water down his parched throat to prevent the early morning hoarseness of his voice. "What did you two talk about? You said—"

"I know. I promise, we'll talk about it afterwards. Just get ready to leave. Your stuff's on the dresser." Anakin gave a sharp nod, turning to leave before pausing. He glanced back, scanning Luke like a datapad. "You are good to leave, right? You were pretty out of it last night."

Luke waved him off, setting his now empty plate on the bedside table and swinging his legs over to the floor, his socked feet brushing against the wooden finish. "I'm alright. Just a small headache. You're not getting away from me that easy."

Anakin allowed himself a small smile, shaking his head fondly. "Well, good. Can't keep the Council waiting too long. Especially now that our attendance is mandatory."

Luke nodded back, squinting thinly amongst the sunlight to see if his foggy brain was imagining the tautness of his father's eyes. Maybe it wasn't the early-rising habit of the Jedi. Maybe Anakin hadn't slept at all.

He thought back to the nightmare Padmé had described to him when Anakin couldn't. The ones of her, locked in a scream of agony that eventually fizzled away into the stillness of a corpse, no one able to help her in her final moments. He had almost forgotten about it in the rapid pace of events the past day or so, but it was obvious Anakin hadn't.

The same dark cloud that hung over him when he had first had them had returned, clogging his Force presence with a thick, oily smog of terror and uncertainty. Just as he had feared, Sidious had done something to further poison Anakin's mind with doubts and anger-fueled desperation.

"Anakin," Luke called to his father's turned back, tongue heavy in his mouth. Asking if he was okay felt too simple, too emotionally detached for a person whose tribulations were far more complicated than they seemed on the surface. "Thank you."

The blue eyes that turned back to him brimmed with befuddlement. "For...the eggs?"

Luke ducked his head with a smile. "No. Well, yes, but..." He sighed, tugging at his hair. "For letting me in. Trusting me with so much, allowing me to listen and help... For asking to train me."

For a moment, the cloud of Anakin's Force presence dissipated into something warmer, the simmering light like a tight hug and a creamy mug of cocoa. Luke ravished in it, only ever having felt such a bond when he first connected with Leia properly, the both of them opening their minds to their full extent—no barriers whatsoever.

But the feeling dropped almost instantaneously, Anakin hastily returning his shields and closing off all invasive thoughts, particularly how he couldn't help but be reminded of Ahsoka and her passion, her admiration for her teacher, and the final betrayal the Jedi had thrust upon her. Palpatine's words flooded his head instead, just as they had all night long, circling round and round like a directionless starfighter.

Could keep the ones he cared about from dying...

He tugged on the growing tightness of his robes, his prosthetic deciding to resort back to its infuriating jerky ticks as he did so. "You're a friend, Luke. There's nothing to thank me for, it's just nice to have someone to talk to."

"It's nice talking to you too. Really." Luke kept up his smile before squeezing his eyes shut, this time a pain in his chest accompanying the pounding in his head. He waved off Anakin's concerned step forward, turning back to take another long sip of the water. "Go on, I should probably start getting dressed."

Stuffing his still twitching prosthetic hand into his pocket, Anakin fumbled with his belt, his tools falling into his free hand. Anything to keep his hands busy and his thoughts away from his problems. He needed his mind to be focused, especially if the Council sent him after Grievous. After that, he could divert his attention back to his personal life. Back to his wife, his unborn child, his future.

"I'll be waiting for you," Anakin said, finally letting the door close between them.

◂◂◂

By the time they arrived at the Council chamber, Master Mundi had already begun his debriefing on Master Yoda's attainments on Kashyyyk. His eyes glinted at the interruption of the opening door, but where he was expecting a remark from Anakin, he received nothing more than a terse nod of acknowledgement and somewhat apology.

As both Anakin and Luke approached the holo table, Obi-Wan peered at them from across the room, his hand fiddling at the auburn curls of his beard. Luke's headache almost tripled at the vulnerable wave of fretting emulating from the man's headspace. His blue-gray eyes shot to Luke in weary greeting, partly because he couldn't get Anakin to look at him and partly because a small part of him hoped the young man would show some kind of sign as to why his presence had done so much in the past few days, positive and negative.

Master Yoda's emerald eyes sparkled as he watched from afar through the hologram projector, allowing Ki-Adi to continue with his discussion swiftly, barely a second lost. Yet, as soon as he concluded, the attention turned right back to Anakin, who had raised his chin high in preparation to speak.

"Skywalker. You have news from your...assignment?" Master Windu inquired, sharing a brief glance with a shifting Obi-Wan.

"I do, Masters," Anakin said. "Chancellor Palpatine informed me late last night that our Clone Intelligence Units caught wind of Grievous in the Utapau system. They believe him and other Separatist leaders are taking refuge there against the will of the local people."

Ki-Adi's bushy white eyebrows fell down his face. "The Utapau system? We've had no reports of this from our agents."

Mace easily followed his sentiment, arms crossed. "And how could the Chancellor have come by this information without us knowing about it? We've had contact with Baron Papanoida, and he said no one was there."

"A partial message was intercepted in a diplomatic packet from the Chairman of Utapau," Anakin explained, his hands tapping impatiently. "Besides, we have no other intel. This is worth at least taking a look into."

Yoda's hologram form flickered as he nodded, humming thoughtfully. "Agree with Skywalker, I do. Act on this, we must. Risk losing Grievous, we cannot."

The Council filtered into muffled murmurings of contention before the deciding heads all bobbed in agreement. Luke caught Anakin's relieved slump from the corner of his eye. Despite the well-founded distrust of Palpatine, the Jedi knew when other priorities had to take precedence. Ending the war was their priority above all else.

Master Koon piped up amongst the assessment, his expression hard to read under his face mask. "I sense there is more information the Chancellor passed on to you, Skywalker. Is that true?"

Obi-Wan's grip on his beard grew tight enough to yank out the individual hairs as he watched Anakin's demeanor shift, his eyes cast away and his usually aptly focused mind distracted by an unreadable source.

"Yes, Master," Anakin said. "He...requested that I should be the one to lead the campaign. He expressed admiration for my dealings with Count Dooku, and thought it the best course of action for a successful mission."

"And do you agree with that sentiment?" Plo asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't disagree, Master. We should take every opportunity we can to one up the Separatists."

"Your determination is admirable, Knight Skywalker," Master Fisto said, his dark eyes glittering kindly. Anakin spared him a grateful nod before Master Windu sighed loudly, pinching his nose.

"Yes, but the Council is to decide who is to go, not the Chancellor. His impeding on our affairs is not something we are going to continue to allow. His dealings are with the Senate and the Clone armies."

"Keep Skywalker here, we must," Yoda followed, catching Luke's eye so briefly that he almost missed it. "Assigned to track him, Master Kenobi has been, therefore find him, he shall."

"I concur," Master Allie said, "Skywalker's assignment is here on Coruscant, with the Chancellor. Sending him would impede on those duties."

"And Master Kenobi has more experience with Grievous firsthand," Master Tiin noted. "His battalion is available and dependable."

"Very well," Mace silenced the Council members with a raised hand. "Obi-Wan, are you willing to take this assignment?"

Obi-Wan finally managed to catch Anakin's gaze, staring deep into the young man's soul and prodding ever so gently against their uncut training bond. To his surprise, Anakin acknowledged the nudge, pressing back with his own, albeit less enthusiastically than normal. He knew that Anakin's ego tended to get the better of him, and that he genuinely believed he was the best person for the job. If anything, Obi-Wan figured he needed the distraction, to have a goal so crucial to the ending of the war that was driving them all apart. But he couldn't directly defy the Council. He wasn't Anakin. Or Qui-Gon, for that matter. Besides, he didn't exactly disagree with the selection this time. Anakin did have other priorities, even if they were ones he wished he didn't have to have. Whenever he had spoken to the Chancellor, it had done something to him, his silent brooding a startlingly contrast to his usual heavy anger. It was as if he was made of glass, teetering on an edge and only a tap away from shattering.

Obi-Wan's goal as a teacher had been to be the person Anakin could confide in, to have the boy tell him of his every misgiving that they would then work on amending together. But he had always gotten caught up in the strict nature of the Code, stuck on his own failures and his fears of being a bad Padawan to his own Master Jinn. He had let all his own self-hatred fizzle down into shutting Anakin out when he had needed to be let in, and now, with even just the barest of acknowledgements, Obi-Wan could take solace in the fact that maybe...they were finally getting somewhere. He'd just have to work a little bit harder at it, starting with the root cause of Anakin's closed offness, whatever it may be.

He would have to comm Ahsoka and check up on her, see if she could get through. Or even Senator Amidala, as close as her and Anakin were despite their insistence on the opposite.

As he opened his mouth to respond, he caught sight of Luke, his presence bright yet easily missed as he stood beside Anakin with a bit of a dip in his forehead, a strain of some kind. The strange man's hand had found its way to Anakin's shoulder, squeezing it assuringly.

"Yes, Masters," he finally got out. "I can inform Commander Cody of the details."

"Good, you'll need as much support as you can get. If this report is true, there's no telling how many battle droids he'll have with him," Mace said, getting an assenting hum from Master Yoda. "Now before I adjourn this meeting, is there anything more to be added?"

Shaak Ti tilted her head up towards Anakin. "That was all the Chancellor mentioned to you, Skywalker? Nothing about forfeiting his position upon Grievous' capture?"

To Anakin's credit, his face showed no reaction. "No, Master Ti. Utapau was all he gave me."

Luke wondered for a moment if the only reason he caught his father in the lie was due to the fact that he and Leia had the same tell, a subtle twitch in their right eye.

Master Ti accepted the answer though, gesturing back to Master Windu to relay her time. In moments, the room had been cleared and the holograms had flickered away, resigning the individual Masters back to their assignments.

Luke strode behind Anakin's quick pace, casting a lasting glance at Obi-Wan, who was shouldering on his cloak as he watched them leave, almost lulled by how fast Anakin managed to dip away before anyone could properly confront him on his lie. 'Cause of course Obi-Wan knew Anakin's tells just as well.

Unfortunately, as distracted as he was, he didn't notice the unsteadiness in Luke's walk as he trailed beside Anakin, his hand continuously reaching for a spot in his forearm and gripping hard.