Chapter 25: Speed of Sound 4

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*As I reread this story that I wrote almost twenty years ago, I keep thinking of clarifying additions that could be made. So I'm sprinkling them through the text. There aren't very many, but some of them are in chapters that have already been posted. I worked Palpatine's canon first name in, for example. More to come ...

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Late evening on Coruscant. Anakin thought about comming Padmé again as he approached the planet, but decided against it. What would she say if she knew where he'd been? He thought about what she might be doing now -- changing into her nightgown, taking down her hair. Or maybe changing a diaper. He thought about his love for her for a moment. Really felt  it. Analyzed it.

It seemed  the same, so far. And that much was good.

He needed to talk to Sereine, but she wasn't answering her comm at home. If she was still at the office, then so was Palpatine. He decided to hurry there and try to see them together.

As if she could save him from Palpatine. Ridiculous, that.

He had trouble getting the sword into the building. Only the Hero with No Fear could bring a hand weapon into the Senate Office Building, and then only with the intercession of the Chancellor's Office.

If he didn't know I was here before, he does now, Anakin thought sourly.

Sereine and Palpatine were alone in the office, arguing peevishly over a speech when he walked in. Anakin caught the words, "-- because it is my job  to save you from looking like a pompous bantha's behind!" and had to smother a smile. Like it or not, Palpatine still had one foot in the everyday world, and Sereine was still bold -- or stupid-- enough to bite the Sith lord's ankle.

Palpatine looked up. His voice, already halfway there to begin with, dropped into that gravelly low vibrato. "Lord Vader," he said. Then, "Sereine. Leave us."

Sereine had dyed her hair in Anakin's absence. Arranged in a loose pompadour, every strand was a rich, deep, gleaming red. As she turned away from Palpatine, the Chancellor's hand slipped langorously across her bottom.

Anger flared in Anakin, but he said nothing. As she passed him, he whispered to her, "Please stay." She gave no sign, but he knew she had heard him.

When the doors had whispered closed behind her, Lord Vader lowered himself to one knee.

"My master."

"I see that you have brought me something." Palpatine arose and came around the desk, and Anakin extended the sword to him, hilt first.

Palpatine took it and made a few short moves with it, balancing it, playing with it. "Well done," he croaked. He held it straight up, admiring it, but Anakin felt him at the edges of his consciousness, probing. He shrank away from the sensation.

Two ice blue eyes peered down at him from beyond the blade. "Well, Lord Vader," he said mischievously, "how feel you?"

Anakin wasn't sure how to respond. The only real answer was, I don't know.

He felt Palpatine touch  that, and sink back, frustrated. "You are  a slow learner."

Suddenly bewildered and sad, Anakin merely accepted the insult.

The Sith master sighed and his shoulders dropped; he turned and laid the sword on the polished desktop, then turned to perch on the edge of his desk.

"You were angry with me a moment ago. Explain that. Tell me why."

Anakin said, "Why do you have to do that to her, master? You don't love her. You don't even want  her. Do you have to ruin her marriage just to get back at both of them, is that it?"

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