He gasped awake, and suffered a weird moment of vertigo to find himself looking at Padmé's abdomen, which was flat because here and now Padmé was not gravid. "Under the curve," he said, out loud. "Write that down, please. It's important."
читать дальше"All right," said Padmé, doing so. "Why? Does it have something to do with all the math?"
As soon as she said it, he knew it did. "Yes," he said, sitting up. "I need to get to work."
"You need to eat something! You missed lunch and a bowl of frozen yogurt does not count, and now it's nearly the twentieth hour."
"Um," he said, as his stomach informed him that, yes, it was empty. "Yes. I'll cook?"
"How's your headache?"
He checked. "Not as bad. I can work through it."
"But you don't have to," said Padmé. "You have no job right now other than to get well. I'll order something from the commissary - no?"
"Have you ever eaten in the commissary here?" He shook his head. "They are healthy calories. Generally they have about as much flavor as wicker furniture. Order out to Dex's instead."
"They deliver?"
"To here, they do," he said.
Padmé ordered. He turned on his 'pad - "Not to work, Padmé!" - and checked his comms.
Kenobi had written.
How in all the hells did you do that?
I could explain, but to do it yourself, you'd have to Fall.
Ahsoka had written.
Skyguy, I didn't think you'd get into politics the second I turned my back. I told Padmé to keep you safe, not throw you in with the rancors!
It needed doing.
Rex had written. One sentence, four words:
You have the army.
I don't want an army. I want you to live your own lives.
By the time he was done answering Rex, Kenobi had answered.
Make an attempt.
The opposite of empathy. Projective emotion.
Rex's message pinged while he was typing out Kenobi's, so he checked that.
Plenty of us are getting out, no worries there. Jesse, and probably that means we're going to lose Kix too. But you have us, all of us. If you need us.
There was only one reasonable response to that.
Nayc entye, Rex.
There was a pause, and then the incoming message pinged.
We know, sir. It's not about debts. You're our brother too. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Vode an.
He had to stop for few minutes while the Dark came. He wasn't lying, his headache had gone down, but that didn't mean he was ready to fill his skull with it again either. The Dark was shit for healing, he had to use the Light for that, and the Light was elusive while he was feeling like this. It wasn't an emotion he wanted to lose, either, so he just rode it out.
Force. A brother.
By the time he was able to respond, Kenobi's incoming message pinged.
What kind of emotion can force the Senate to sit down and have that vote?
He replied to Rex first.
I'm honored.
Then he sat and stared at the screen for a while before typing.
The way it felt when I realized that Sidious was either going to kill or corrupt my son, and the only thing I could do to stop it was to kill him first.
He turned off the power on the thing before Kenobi could ask any more questions.
When he arrived in the library, he didn't immediately jump into equations; instead, he sat down and opened up his comms, and checked the six separate messages Kenobi had sent.
Your son.
Of course you had a son. I don't know why I'm surprised.