"Chancellor," Padme interrupted, "if I may comment. I do not believe the-"

"Situation is that serious," Palpatine finished for her. "No, but I do, Senator."

"Chancellor, please!" she pleaded. "I do not want any more guards!" Palpatine stared at her as would an overprotective father, a look that Padme might have viewed as condescending from any other man. "I realize all too well that additional security might be disruptive for you," he began, and he paused, and then a look came over him as if he had just struck upon a logical and acceptable compromise. "But perhaps someone you are familiar with, an old friend." Smiling cleverly, Palpatine looked to Mace Windu and Yoda. "Master Kenobi?" he finished with a nod, and his smile only widened when Mace Windu nodded back.

"That's possible," the Jedi confirmed. "He has just returned from a border dispute on Ansion."

"You must remember him, M'Lady," Palpatine said, grinning as if it was a done deal. "He watched over you during the blockade conflict."

"This is not necessary, Chancellor," Padme said determinedly, but Palpatine didn't relinquish his grin in the least, showing clearly that he knew well how to defeat the independent Senator's argument.

"Do it for me, M'Lady. Please. I will rest easier. We had a big scare today. The thought of losing you is unbearable."

Several times, Amidala started to respond, but how could she possibly say anything to deny the Supreme Chancellor's expressed concern? She gave a great defeated sigh, and the Jedi rose and turned to leave.

"I will have Obi-Wan report to you immediately, M'Lady," Mace Windu informed her.

As he passed, Yoda leaned in close to Padme and whispered so that only she could hear, "Too little about yourself you worry, Senator, and too much about politics. Be mindful of your danger, Padme. Accept our help."

They all left the room, and Padme Amidala stared at the door and the flanking guards for a long while.

Behind her, at the back of his office, Chancellor Palpatine watched them all.

"It troubles me to hear Count Dooku's name mentioned in such a manner, Master," Mace said to Yoda as the Jedi made their way back to their Council chamber. "And from one as esteemed as Senator Amidala. Any mistrust of Jedi, or even former Jedi, in times such as these can be disastrous."

"Deny Dooku's involvement in the separatist movement, we cannot," Yoda reminded him.

"Nor can we deny that he began in that movement because of ideals," Mace argued. "He was once our friend-that we must not forget-and to hear him slandered and named as an assassin-"

"Not named," Yoda said. "But darkness there is, about us all, and in that darkness, nothing is what it seems."

"But it makes little sense to me that Count Dooku would make an attempt on the life of Senator Amidala, when she is the one most adamantly opposed to the creation of an army. Would the separatists not wish Amidala well in her endeavors? Would they not believe that she is, however unintentionally, an ally to their cause? Or are we really to believe that they want war with the Republic?"

Yoda leaned heavily on his cane, seeming very weary, and his huge eyes slowly closed. "More is here than we can know," he said very quietly.

"Clouded is the Force. Troubling it is."

Mace dismissed his forthcoming reflexive response, a further defense of his old friend Dooku. Count Dooku had been among the most accomplished of the Jedi Masters, respected among the Council, a student of the older and, some would say, more profound Jedi philosophies and styles, including an arcane lightsaber fighting style that was more front and back, thrust and riposte, than the typical circular movements currently employed by most of the Jedi. What a blow it had been to the Jedi Order, and to Mace Windu, when Dooku had walked away from them, and for many of the same reasons the separatists were now trying to walk away: the perception that the Republic had grown too ponderous and unresponsive to the needs of the individual, even of individual systems.

It was no less troubling to Mace Windu concerning Dooku, as it was, no doubt, to Amidala and Palpatine concerning the separatists, that some of the arguments against the Republic were not without merit.

As the lights of Coruscant dimmed, gradually replaced by the natural lights of the few twinkling stars that could get through the nearly continual glare, the great and towering city took on a vastly different appearance. Under the dark evening sky, the skyscrapers seemed to become gigantic natural monoliths, and all the supersized structures that so dominated the city, that so marked Coruscant as a monument to the ingenuity of the reasoning species, seemed somehow the mark of folly, of futile pride striving against the vastness and majesty beyond the grasp of any mortal.

Even the wind at the higher levels of the structures sounded mournful, almost as a herald to what would eventually, inevitably, become of the great city and the great civilization.

As Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker stood in the turbolift of the Senate apartment complex, the Jedi Master was indeed pondering such profound universal truths as the subtle change of day to night. Beside him, though, his young Padawan certainly was not. Anakin was about to see Padme again, the woman who had captured his heart and soul when he was but ten years old and had never let it go.

"You seem a little on edge, Anakin," Obi-Wan noted as the lift continued its climb.

"Not at all," came the unconvincing reply.

"I haven't seen you this nervous since we fell into that nest of gundarks."

"You fell into that nightmare, Master, and I rescued you. Remember?"

Obi-Wan's little distraction seemed to have the desired effect, and the pair shared a much-needed laugh. Coming out of it, though, Anakin remained obviously on edge.

"You're sweating," Obi-Wan noted. "Take a deep breath. Relax."

"I haven't seen her in ten years."

"Anakin, relax," Obi-Wan reiterated. "She's not the Queen anymore." The lift door slid open and Obi-Wan started away, while Anakin, behind him, muttered under his breath, "That's not why I'm nervous."

As the pair stepped into the corridor, a door across the way slid open and a well-dressed Gungan, wearing fine red and black robes, stepped into the corridor opposite them. The three regarded each other for just a moment, and then the Gungan diplomat, losing all sense of reserve and propriety, began hopping around like a child.

"Obi! Obi! Obi!" Jar Jar Binks cried, tongue and ears flapping. "Mesa so smilen to see'en yousa! Wahoooo!"