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"Relations with the Chancellor's Office are…difficult. I feel he has lost his trust in the Jedi; I have certainly lost my trust in him." – Mace Windu, ROTS novelization
Chapter Twelve
Obi-Wan could not describe the relief he felt upon seeing Anakin's dusty and bruised and alive face. His former Padawan stood at the side of the supine Chancellor, twisting his hands together and staring into the ground as though he would burn through it. Even from this great distance, the Jedi Master could feel a disturbing amount of fear and anger rolling from Anakin's aura. Similar to his own heart-stopping experience in the Jedi Archives and yet different, the emotions were wild and untamed. Something very personal had happened to Anakin. But what?
As if reading his bewilderment, Mace Windu leaned in as they walked and muttered just below the hearing of the following Jedi knights, "It's a miracle the Chancellor and Skywalker survived. The stabilizers only just managed to stop an entire collapse, and that only thanks to the way the Opera House fell. The odds were astronomical. I can hardly believe it."
"Master Windu," Obi-Wan barely took his eyes off the pair before them. "This whole incident has me greatly disturbed. The things I felt tonight, well frankly, I've not felt since fighting the Sith who killed Qui-Gon."
On his other side stalked the tall Zabrak Master Agen Kolar, one of the dwindling number of high council members still on Coruscant. He beckoned at himself and Mace. "We talked before you arrived from the archives, and we came to the same conclusion. There is no question between us of the Sith's involvement."
"I can only imagine this Sidious attempted to kill the Chancellor or Skywalker," Windu added. "This could have been nothing less than an inside job, judging by the level and manner of destruction. Perhaps a follow-up to the last failed attempt. Or perhaps we pushed him into this." After all, that had been their goal since finding the tracks that led to 500 Republica.
"I agree. There is more to this than a mere assassination attempt," Obi-Wan knew it without doubt. "But now the question is, what happened to the Sith Lord if he was indeed the one behind this attack?"
Windu's eyes darkened and he nearly growled, "We can only hope he was destroyed in the process."
Obi-Wan shot a sharp look at his companion. The words were tinged in poison, dripping with a bleak anger that never should have belonged to a Jedi. He thought back and recalled the disturbing conversations just a few weeks prior, of Mace's fierce dedication to ending the conflict by any means necessary, even if it meant – and Obi-Wan shuddered – treason.
Yoda had disagreed, and now Obi-Wan wished for the old sage's presence more than ever. The tiny Jedi had always been able to calm Mace down, to talk away the darkness that was never far from the Master of Vaapad. But Yoda was currently wrapping up his business on Kashyyyk for the return to Coruscant, and Obi-Wan was left to manage on his own. Kolar was no real help; he could be as headstrong as Mace.
The Negotiator settled for a noncommittal answer. "I suspect we'll have the truth before long," he finally replied, unwilling to spark the glowing fire that was Mace Windu.
Kolar grumbled, "We would have had the truth long ago if our hands were not so tied by politics." Obi-Wan nearly laughed with relief that someone else felt as he did about such unsavory topics. Mace never cracked a smile, eyes fixed on the scene spreading out before them.
As the group of Jedi drew nearer, Obi-Wan let out a long breath as he determined that Anakin was not seriously harmed. His lightsaber was another matter: nowhere to be seen. Anakin, Anakin… He held one shoulder stiffly and his eyes were half-shut, but Obi-Wan's dearest friend was still standing.
The same could not be said for the leader of the free worlds. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine lay on his back on the evac board, and Obi-Wan had never seen him looking so haggard, not even after the Grievous kidnapping. As his aide Sate Pestage hovered over him, he quietly talked. His face bore long streaks of bloody scratches and dark bruising. His once immaculate robes were tattered and soaking wet, much like Anakin's Jedi robes. How on Tatooine had they gotten drenched?
Yet now also, for the first time since he had stopped focusing on Anakin, he sensed a new great darkness surrounding the Chancellor, almost seeping into him, or was it seeping out? The darkness made the situation too hard to clarify. Palpatine's Force presence was what it always had been to Obi-Wan. Nothing. An empty space in the Force, like a blind, mute, and deaf man. Only now the slowly dissipating darkness surrounded him. He looked half-dead, and Obi-Wan wondered, what had the Sith done? What had happened in there?
But most importantly, what had happened to Anakin?
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Mace Windu was stunned. In all his years of studying the shatterpoints and fault lines of the Force, the vision that greeted him was unprecedented. The strong lines that had so closely bound Anakin Skywalker and Chancellor Palpatine were now thin and jagged, blazing red and oozing a black ink-like substance into the Force around them. The connection was straining to hold together, nearly at the snapping moment.
He wondered how this came to pass, and the darker part of him wondered if it could not be helped along in its dissolution. Mace shook himself back to his senses. He did not yet understand these ominous lines, and to intervene without understanding was to invite calamity. One simply did not manipulate the Force lines around them like a youngling moving blocks. The Force was delicate, and it demanded understanding and respect.
Mace Windu wondered, not for the first time, how the other Jedi saw this same scene. His "gift" left him with a unique view that was hard to explain to his comrades. Yoda came the closest to comprehension, but even he could not discern shatterpoints. How did Obi-Wan see Skywalker and the Chancellor? How did Kolar? How could Mace provide evidence for his fears when the evidence was invisible to others?
He straightened to his fullest height when the party arrived on the scene, forcing the frustration away, turning to the Jedi Knights behind him and instructing that they keep watch. Then he, Obi-Wan, and Kolar approached the Chancellor's party.
"Supreme Chancellor," he inclined his head – formal, cool, careful. "We are relieved to see you unharmed."
A fleet smile crossed Palpatine's face, or was it a grimace? Hard to tell through the blood. "Relatively unharmed, Master Windu. But alive." He barked a sharp cough and waved his hand at Pestage, who had tried to help him straighten. "Mostly."
"That is the important thing," Obi-Wan stepped up now and bowed slightly.
Palpatine turned half-glazed eyes on the younger master and murmured, "You have no idea." At Obi-Wan's open confusion, Palpatine's gaze cleared and he hastily added, "The devastation was tremendous, the loss of lives, entirely regrettable, but if ever the Force was with the Republic, it was tonight." Mace lifted an eyebrow; it had been long since he had seen the Chancellor stumble in a conversation. Within the last few months, he could count the number of times on one hand.
Beside him, the Chosen One shifted on his feet. In the Force, the lines flashed bright red, pulsing from Skywalker toward the Chancellor. Mace struggled to remain focused on the physical faces in the conversation.
"We greatly desire to learn what happened here, Chancellor," Kolar, always the one to get down to business, had come up on the other side of Palpatine's stretcher. The Chancellor studied him for a long moment, mouth working.
"I, also, greatly desire clarity for this night. Thanks to Anakin, I believe we may have that truth before long, Master Kolar. He has a definite proclivity for saving lives," and here the mutually dusty and bloody men regarded each other. Mace watched in amazement as the connecting lines briefly glowed blue before settling back into red. Something significant was occurring, and he was blind to the meaning. Blind!
The Dark Side choked the air around them all, swirling, obstructing, tricking… Mace struck at it with his mind and only bogged down. He decided on a different tactic and turned to Anakin Skywalker. "How did you manage to do it? How did you stop this attack?" he demanded.
Skywalker's eyes opened wide. The Force trembled around him. "I…I –I can't. I couldn't!" His mouth opened and closed like a drowning man's, and he looked between Palpatine and Mace when he spoke, refusing to even glance back at Obi-Wan. His former mentor stepped closer, concerned.
"Anakin, are you all right? My word, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Obi-Wan stretched out and took the Chosen One's arm, pulling him away from the Chancellor's side and lowering him to the platform. Skywalker dropped without protest, still gasping for air and still trying to speak.
Mace was completely flummoxed at the sight. In the last few weeks, the haughty young Jedi had developed a powerful and confident presence when with the other Jedi, losing his cool only when the Council had denied him mastery. He had fine-tuned an emotional distance that now lay in tatters. He looked like a frightened padawan as he sat on the platform clutching Obi-Wan's arm.
Mace crouched down before the two and leaned in. "Skywalker, I need you to focus. What happened? Was it the Sith Lord?"
Skywalker stared back. "Yes," he said, so soft Mace could barely hear. "Yes, it was the Sith Lord. It was… it was –"
"He was…greatly overcome by the attack tonight," the Chancellor interrupted, almost as quiet as Skywalker, but his words muted the boy as surely as if he had shouted, and Mace swung to his feet and faced him with a look to break stone. The Chancellor stared back with surprising boldness. His pale blue eyes seemed to burn with an inner light, challenging the warrior that towered over him. Beside him, thin and greasy, Pestage bore an identical glare.
"What do you mean?" Kolar asked in the deadly silence that followed.
One of Palpatine's hands twitched. "I mean he was incapacitated early on. He was not able to engage our attacker, although he did manage to hold off several gunmen. I'm sure he will submit a full report if you give him time to recover," and now Mace detected impatience in the Chancellor's face.
"Where the Sith are concerned, there is no time for luxuries like recovery," Mace reminded him coldly, disliking Palpatine's tone. "We need the truth."
Palpatine laughed, actually laughed. "You do," his voice lowered to a strange half-growl. "You really do need the truth." He pointed a shaking finger at Anakin Skywalker. "He has it now, but I am not so certain you deserve it yet, the way you treat him."
Obi-Wan rose to his feet in alarm. "Chancellor, what are you saying? We are Jedi, and we take very good care of our own. Anakin will be all right with us."
"Will he?" Palpatine sneered. "I'm not so sure, Master Kenobi. Look at him cowering before Master Windu. That boy has saved my life, and you treat him like a newly initiated Padawan. He deserves better."
Anakin's head shot up straight to look at Palpatine, and Mace saw the fault lines of the Force flash blue again. What was happening between the two? The anger he soon felt was his own, decidedly non-Jedi-like but belonging entirely to him. Why did these two always bring out the worst of him?
But the Chancellor's intrusion into matters of the Jedi was objectionable. Mace brought some of his anger to bear on the smaller man. "With all due respect, Chancellor – and then some – this is an internal matter. You may hold sway over the High Council's military and political decisions, but you do not have any say in the way we conduct our Order."
Palpatine smiled back at his scowling profile. "Perhaps someone should, Master Windu. All your talk of Sith plots and the Dark Side…This was an assassination attempt on my life, no more, no less. It was taken care of."
Mace felt his dislike for this Chancellor bloom into something darker. Palpatine had played them all early on, swallowing their warnings of the Sith with wide-eyed wonder and following their suggestions with enthusiasm. Things change, his own words mocked him. Now the Chancellor was clearly under the influence of the Dark Lord, surrounded by the Dark Side, and no longer heeding the Jedi warnings.
Suddenly, Mace did not care that Palpatine was in danger from the Sith as well. He did not care that the Chancellor might be being manipulated. He was angry to find a blockade at the highest point of government, poking its nose into Jedi business and pronouncing them morally inadequate. Palpatine went too far.
"My lord," he grated out, throwing some of the sarcasm back at the politician, "We Jedi have always been able to access greater knowledge and abilities than the average being." He motioned to Obi-Wan and Kolar. "We all felt the presence of the Sith tonight. You may believe we have conjured some sort of bogeyman to frighten the masses, but we know the Sith is moving. We will find him, and we will utterly destroy him and his diseased practices."
Time froze. Obi-Wan looked appalled, covering his gaping mouth with one hand; Kolar was amused and trying to smother a smile, not in the least frightened by his aggressive friend. It was a good thing Yoda was elsewhere. Anakin's face had gone completely white.
Palpatine never moved, perfectly still as he lay on his back. The medics around him were speechless, the troopers awkwardly shifting in place, rifles half-lowered as they tried to determine any threat level. But Palpatine still did not move, except for the slightest narrowing of his eyes. Mace waited for a reply, for even a challenge.
He was not prepared for the answer.
"You will try, Master Windu."
The very air crackled, and suddenly Skywalker was surging to his feet at the same time Pestage was stepping between Mace and Palpatine.
"Master!" The boy nearly screamed, shrugging away Obi-Wan and lunging forward to grip Mace's shoulder. He hung on to the Jedi Master with a barely controlled desperation. "Do not blame the Chancellor. He…is only concerned for me. We barely made it out alive. Please don't!"
"Don't what, Skywalker?" Mace frowned. What did Skywalker think he was going to do? Strike down the unarmed, injured, and non-Force-sensitive Supreme Chancellor of the Republic? He was only frustrated with the man's interference, with the man's stubbornness that was dooming Mace's Republic. That did not mean he wanted to take off his head. Not entirely…
Around him the troopers were closing in. One helmet turned toward the Chancellor. "Is there a problem here, Your Excellency?"
Sate Pestage answered instead, "Yes, we need to get the Chancellor to safety. The assassins may use this confusion to try again. Please make certain these Jedi are protected as we leave." His expression said the complete opposite, and Mace was certain he was the object of the man's ire. Palpatine's entire staff treated the Jedi with cold disdain, and Pestage was the worst of them all. Would the troopers be protecting them, or guarding them?
Before the Jedi could object, the medical stretcher was hovering away, and troops were moving between them and the Chancellor, obscuring him from their view. Red mixed with the white as Palpatine's personal guard arrived. He would be taken to the Senate medical centers, where the finest treatment awaited him. Once upon a time, Mace thought wistfully, chancellors and politicians preferred the Jedi facilities. Once upon a time, there was trust between them all…
Mace shook the dark musings away and returned to business. Anakin Skywalker, on the other hand, would have the medical finesse of the Jedi. And while there, they could get to the bottom of this. Nothing felt right, and in these dark days, that was saying something.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Though he was a perfect specimen of calm control on the outside, Mas Amedda shook inside as his borrowed speeder approached the platform. The smoke rising from the place where the Opera House once stood and the small fires that littered the crowded platform turned his stomach. Was the Chancellor even alive anymore? Were all his hopes for an uncorrupted and efficient government down some dark alley of Coruscant?
He parked the speeder hurriedly, ignoring the outraged cries of a security droid, and strode quickly across the platform, forcing himself to slow down. No good would come of seeing the Speaker of the Senate panicking like a young tadpole and running pell-mell into this disaster.
Just ahead and to the right, he could see a small body of Jedi conferring together, their sharp eyes noticing him instantly. He recognized General Kenobi, General Skywalker, and Mace Windu among them, and he nodded once. They ignored him. Typical Jedi, above common decency.
At last he caught sight of the signature bright red robes of Palpatine's guards, bunched around a large medical transport. He pushed through their outer ranks with a low warning growl, and they parted without protest.
Amedda forgot his complaints when he spotted his leader through the gaps in the white clothed medics. "Excellency!" he called, and began to move in. One close emergency trooper shoved him back with his blaster half-raised. "Fool! I am the Speaker of the Senate. Let me pass!"
"Let him pass, soldier," Sate Pestage was suddenly before him, and the trooper immediately retreated. Together they moved back to the Chancellor, and Amedda stopped at the side of the stretcher and gazed down, startled at the copious amounts of blood. Palpatine's eyes were tightly shut, and his teeth were gritted. Amedda assumed it was from the pain.
"Are you all right, sir?" he rumbled. Pestage crowded him, watching Amedda closely with his dark and beady eyes.
Palpatine did not look at him. "Lord Speaker?"
"Yes, Excellency. I was with Senator Dmiddo. I feared the worst, when I saw that the Opera House had been … when I saw the explosions, I thought you were dead!"
Two slivers of pale blue appeared and focused on him. "An unforeseen development and a deviation from our plans, my friend," Palpatine's hands rose slightly in a small wave, as though he were sitting at his desk instead of lying on a medical stretcher, being poked and prodded by several medics. "Unfortunate timing for all of us, potentially. We must act quickly if we are to maintain momentum. I find myself unsuitable for conversation, Mas."
"I do not understand."
Palpatine's gaze drifted toward the Jedi bunched a short distance away, and he pressed his thin lips together tightly, angrily, before replying, "I mean, I shall need to keep my schedule very carefully for a time. But right now, I need you to muster several of our strongest supporters, seven or eight should do."
"Senators?" Amedda was briefly confused. What good was a fear-stricken Senate in this situation?
Palpatine lost his ever-present outward cool. "No, interns!" He snapped. The look on the Chagrian's face was of polite disbelief. "Of course, senators! Strong supporters, Mas, and make sure you pick ones that view the Jedi unfavorably. If a scene is to be made, I want reliable witnesses."
"A scene?" Amedda began to understand, feeling a cold block of ice forming in his chest. This could be bad.
"Bring them to the medical facility. I want them there as much as possible, and always when the Jedi are present."
Amedda hesitated to acknowledge the feeling of fear that threatened him, the feeling of losing control. "Witnesses? My lord, do you think the Jedi have discovered you?" If that were true, they would be hard-pressed indeed.
"One, and perhaps more soon. I cannot be certain. Our plans to turn this Republic around are in grave danger, Mas," the Chancellor reached out and pulled Amedda closer, putting the Chagrian between himself and the distant group of Jedi. "If the Jedi attempt to take me, we can make them the aggressors only if we involve the Senate. I am not in peak condition to repel their attacks personally."
"No, indeed, my lord." But he was alive, and that meant they had a fighting chance.
"Mas, the safety of our worlds is in your hands. Stall the Jedi as long as you can, and stall the Senate from making any impulsive decisions." Palpatine sighed softly. "I'm not certain how long this setback may last. Can you do it?"
"As always, sir." And he could. His skills with the most obscure procedural rules and etiquette were legendary. He could hold back a tide of unruly and corrupt senators easily enough.
Palpatine grunted and rested back against the medical stretcher as the medics began to hover it into the roomy transport, apparently satisfied with Amedda's assurance. His eyes closed once again, and he seemed almost in a trance as the medics began latching down his bed for takeoff. Amedda, unsure if he had been dismissed, followed his Chancellor onto the transport. Pestage followed closely on his heels.
"How long will it take to reset the bones?" Palpatine suddenly asked, sounding distracted as he snagged a passing medic, clutching the white sleeve in a claw-like hand and leaving a small smear of blood.
The young man looked like a Jawa in the headlights of an onrushing speeder. "Um…I'm not certain, my lord. Your legs have not been entirely scanned yet, but rest assured, the Bacta tanks do the best jo –"
"No. No bacta tanks. Casts only. I need to be aware."
"I understand sir, but those will take much longer, as they are less concentrated doses."
"And so they will do." He left no room for argument, and the medic, having completed his duties, fled the room, leaving only the two humans and the Chagrian.
Amedda saw Pestage lean in close and whisper, "Why will you not take the tank, my lord? We can remove you to a secure location if you are concerned with the Jedi…"
Palpatine shook his head. "No, Sate, no. I need to be able to speak with him."
"Who?" Amedda blurted without thinking.
Palpatine answered without hesitation, which greatly startled the Speaker. Usually he was not privy to the specifics of the Chancellor's alternate plans. Usually, he was brushed away or given a stern look. Today produced neither result. "Anakin Skywalker. He is the key to our future."
"Sir, you are the key for us. I cannot say how relieved I am that you were not killed," Pestage was sickening, Amedda thought again as he watched the fanatical gleam in the human's eyes. The man was a brownnoser and a slimy underhanded gangster. Amedda could not be convinced that Pestage's concern for the Chancellor was authentic, but his disdain derailed when he realized that Palpatine was speaking once again.
"Many others were killed however, all thanks to the betrayal of Sly Moore. I want a count of our losses as soon as is feasible." He turned thoughtful. "I want you to eliminate her contacts, Sate, every individual she may have swayed to her side. I want no more surprises."
"A purge," Pestage was practically purring with delight. Amedda felt his lethorns twist in disgust. A purge might be necessary, but who could enjoy such a thing? Pestage kept nodding. "Yes, that should be easy enough."
"Well, do it quietly, at any rate," Palpatine appeared to be rallying his strength with each passing moment. "Also, spread the news that it was a Force user. Don't say anything about Sly Moore. We will let the Jedi stand alone on that report. Say instead, something that moved like a Jedi, fought like a Jedi. The Senate will draw its own conclusions. Can you do that quickly?"
"Definitely. I work well with rumors," Pestage affirmed, and Amedda snorted quietly. Palpatine's eyes shifted back to him, and for the first time since his work with the Chancellor began, Amedda felt open curiosity and a little suspicion in that gaze. Suspicion that would be better placed on this slimeball beside him, but for some reason, Pestage had top billing with Palpatine.
Well, Amedda would show both of them what true loyalty was. He had this one chance to rebuild the Republic, and might he be condemned to the depths of Kamino if he did not succeed. No Jedi plot would hold them back. That he promised himself as the medical transport rose and sped toward the Galactic Senate Medcenter.
So the Jedi make an appearance at last and know something is up. They are so close to finding out, but that Anakin Skywalker has to go off and be his usual indecisive self. An indecisive Chosen One, how ironic…Ahem, sorry. What will happen when they meet again? And will Anakin choose a side or try to juggle it all?
Apologies for the delay. These longer chapters take longer to form up. To be honest, what would my readers prefer: shorter chapters and faster updates, or longer chapters and slightly slower updates?
Oh, and I do have a new one-shot up, called "At the Present Time," featuring Palpatine and Obi-Wan. Feel free to check it out.