Free Attack of the Clones by R.A. Salvatore

mysteries surrounding this threat will be revealed,” offered Padmé, ever the diplomat. She smiled alternately at Anakin and at Obi-Wan, an invitation for civility, and when both leaned back, shoulders visibly relaxing, she added, “Now, if you will excuse me, I will retire.”
    They all bowed as Padmé and Dormé exited the room, and then Obi-Wan stared hard at his young Padawan again, neither seeming overly pleased with the other.
    “Well, I know that I’m glad to have you here,” Captain Typho offered, moving closer to the pair. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but the Senator can’t have too much security right now. Your friends on the Jedi Council seem to think that miners have something to do with this, but I can’t really agree with that.”
    “What have you learned?” Anakin asked.
    Obi-Wan threw him a look of warning.
    “We’ll be better prepared to protect the Senator if we have some idea of what we’re up against,” Anakin explained to his Master, logic he knew that Obi-Wan had to accept as reasonable.
    “Not much,” Typho admitted. “Senator Amidala leads the opposition to the creation of a Republic army. She’s very determined to deal with the separatists through negotiation and not force, but the attempts on her life, eventhough they’ve failed, have only strengthened the opposition to her viewpoint in the Senate.”
    “And since the separatists would not logically wish to see a Republic army formed …” Obi-Wan reasoned.
    “We’re left without a clue,” Typho said. “In any such incident, the first questioning eyes turn toward Count Dooku and the separatists.” A frown crossed Obi-Wan’s face, and Typho quickly added, “Or to some of those loyal to his movement, at least. But why they’d go after Senator Amidala is anyone’s guess.”
    “And we are not here to guess, but merely to protect,” Obi-Wan said, in tones that showed he was finished with this particular line of discussion.
    Typho bowed, hearing him clearly. “I’ll have an officer on every floor, and I’ll be at the command center downstairs.”
    Typho left, then, and Obi-Wan began a search of the room and adjoining chambers, trying to get a feel for the place. Anakin started to do likewise, but he stopped when he walked by Jar Jar Binks.
    “Mesa bustin wit happiness seein yousa again, Annie.”
    “She didn’t even recognize me,” Anakin said, staring at the door through which Padmé had departed. He shook his head despondently and turned to the Gungan. “I’ve thought about her every day since we parted, and she’s forgotten me completely.”
    “Why yousa sayen that?” Jar Jar asked.
    “You saw her,” Anakin replied.
    “Shesa happy,” the Gungan assured him. “Happier than mesa see’en her in a longo time. These are bad times, Annie. Bombad times!”
    Anakin shook his head and started to repeat his distress, but he noted Obi-Wan moving toward him and wisely held his tongue.
    Except that his observant Master had already discerned the conversation.
    “You’re focusing on the negative again,” he said to Anakin. “Be mindful of your thoughts. She was pleased to see us—leave it at that. Now, let’s check the security here. We have much to do.”
    Anakin bowed. “Yes, Master.”
    He could say the compliant words because he had to, but the young Padawan could not dismiss that which was in his heart and in his thoughts.
    Padmé sat at her vanity, brushing her thick brown hair, staring into the mirror but not really seeing anything there. Her thoughts were replaying again and again the image of Anakin, the look he had given her. She heard his words again, “… grown more beautiful,” and though Padmé was undeniably that, those were not words she was used to hearing. Since she had been a young girl, Padmé had been involved in politics, quickly rising to powerful and influential positions. Most of the men she had come into contact with had been more concerned with what she could bring to