"Chancellor, we have just received a report that Obi Wan has engaged General Grievous," Anakin said.
"We can only hope that General Kenobi is up to the challenge…" Palpatine trailed off with a rueful smile.
"I should be there with him," Anakin shook his head in disgust.
"It is upsetting to me to see that the Council doesn't seem to fully appreciate your talents. Don't you wonder why they won't make you a Jedi Master?" Palpatine frowned.
"I wish I knew. More and more I get the feeling that I am being excluded from the Council. I know there are things they are not telling me," Anakin admitted.
"They don't trust you, Anakin. They never have. Even your great friend Obi Wan has not told you what their true intentions are. It's because you're not like them. You're a man, not just a Jedi," Palpatine said.
"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, puzzled.
"Grievous is no longer the real enemy. Even the Clone Wars themselves are now only...a distraction," replied the Chancellor, not answering the question at all.
"What?" Anakin blinked.
"The Council is about to make its move," Palpatine, explained. "If we don't stop them, by this time tomorrow the Jedi may very well have taken over the Republic."
Anakin couldn't help it. He laughed. "But sir--please, you can't possibly believe that--"
"Anakin, I know. I will be the first to be arrested--the first to be executed--but I will be far from the last."
"Sir, I know that the Council and you have--disagreements, but--"attempted Anakin. The room began to press in around him. He felt hot and cold, dizzy. He drew in a breath, searching for focus.
"This is far beyond any personal dispute between me and the members of the Council. This is a plot generations in the making--a plot to take over the Republic itself," Palpatine interrupted.
"I don't--they wouldn't--"
"Ask yourself: why did they send you to me with this news? Why? Why not simply notify me through normal channels?"
And take careful note of his reaction. We will need a full account.
"Sir, I--uh--" stammered Anakin, his mind swimming. The room was growing darker now, and a heavy weight curled around him, squeezing. He struggled against it, blinking to clear his vision.
"No need to fumble for an explanation," Palpatine said gently. "You've already as much as admitted they've ordered you to spy upon me. Don't you understand that anything you tell them tonight--whatever it may be--will be used as an excuse to order my execution?"
"That's impossible! The Senate--the Senate would never allow it--" he shook his head vehemently.
"The Senate will be powerless to stop it. I told you. This is bigger than any personal dislike between the Council and myself. I am only one man. My authority is granted by the Senate; it is the Senate that is the true government of the Republic. Killing me is nothing; to control the Republic, the Jedi will have to take over the Senate first," Palpatine's voice was soft and grim.
"But the Jedi--the Jedi serve the Senate!" Anakin exploded.
"Do they?" Palpatine asked mildly.
"This is all--I'm sorry, Chancellor, please, you have to understand how this sounds..."
"Here!" Palpatine rummaged around within his desk for a moment, then pulled a data reader from one of the drawers. "Do you know what this is?"
"No…" Anakin's voice trailed off in confusion.
"This petition was brought to me this afternoon by the leaders of the conspiracy I told you about. Brought to me by Padme Amidala Kenobi," Palpatine said.
He shook his head. "You're lying!"
"No, Anakin, I'm not. I have never lied to you. Use your Jedi senses. You can still feel her echo here, can't you? She was standing right where you are now," Palpatine murmured.
Anakin's shoulders slumped. He couldn't deny it. Padme's presence was there, imprinted on the room as strongly as the familiar scent of her perfume would have been a few hours ago. "But--but, sir, please, surely, all they asked for is an end to the war. It's what the Jedi want, too. I mean, it's what we all want, isn't it? Isn't it?" he pleaded.
"Perhaps. Though how that end comes about may be the single most important thing about the war. More important, even, than who wins. Their... sincerity... is much to be admired. Or it would be, were it not that there was much more to that meeting than what it appeared to be," Palpatine said.
Anakin frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Their...petition...was nothing of the sort. It was, in fact a not-so-veiled threat." Palpatine sighed regretfully. "It was a show of force. A demonstration of the political power the Jedi will be able to muster in support of their rebellion. There are now only two kinds of Senators in our government, Anakin. Those whose names are on this so-called petition and those whom the Jedi are about to arrest."
"But--but surely--surely Senator Kenobi can be trusted--" Anakin stammered, coming around the Chancellor's desk in an open show of entreaty.
"I understand how badly you need to believe that," he said. "But Senator Kenobi is hiding something. I know you sensed it."
"If she is--" Anakin broke off, grabbing the edge of the desk to keep himself from falling. The floor was moving--tilting under him like the deck of Invisible Hand, and he felt as though Palpatine's desk was the only thing that was going to keep him from sliding into oblivion. "Even if she is, it doesn't mean that what she is hiding is treason."
"I'm surprised your Jedi insights are not more sensitive to such things," Palpatine told him, seemingly oblivious to his struggle.
"I simply don't sense betrayal in Padme," Anakin insisted raggedly.
Palpatine leaned back in his chair and templed his fingers, giving him a long, skeptical look. "Yes, you do. Though you don't want to admit it. Perhaps it is because neither you nor she yet understands that by betraying me, she is also betraying you.''
"She couldn't--" Anakin pressed a hand to his forehead and swallowed; his dizziness was getting worse, and if he didn't sit down, he thought he might lose his lunch. He didn't know what was happening here--what was happening to him--but there was one thing he did know. "She could never..."
"Of course she could," Palpatine said reasonably. "That is the nature of politics, my boy. Don't take it too personally. It doesn't mean the two of you can't be happy together."
"What--?" he could barely see, barely breathe. All he could think of to say was, again, "What do you mean?"
"I know how you feel about her, Anakin. I know how much you love her son. And doesn't he love you just as much? You could be that boy's father, Anakin. You practically are already," Palpatine murmured.
"Obi Wan is my friend!" Anakin cried, anguished.
"A friend who has lied to you for years?" Palpatine arched an eyebrow. "Who abandoned you before your training was complete, and now intends to abandon you again? Let me ask you something else, my boy. Have you ever been able to be honest with your friend Obi Wan? Haven't you kept as many secrets from him as he has kept from you?"
"What are you talking about?" demanded Anakin.
"She brought me something else," Palpatine went on in the same quiet tone, entirely unperturbed. The Chancellor reached into the desk again and produced a holodisk, which he held out to Anakin with profound sorrow in his eyes. "This is her husband's resignation from the Grand Army of the Republic."
"No," Anakin shook his head vehemently. "He wants this war to end more than anyone!"
"Yes. And he intends to end it. Then he intends to come back here and help his Jedi friends install a new government. Didn't I warn you, son? Didn't I tell you what Obi Wan was up to? Why do you think he was meeting with the leaders of this...delegation...behind your back?" questioned Palpatine.
Anakin discovered that he had no answer. Swirling darkness clouded everything now. It wasn't just in the room--it wasn't--it was in him. It always had been, and now it surged up from his heart in a relentless wave. Sweat broke out on his palms, trickled down the back of his neck, dripping between his shoulderblades. His breath began to come in ragged bursts.
"It's not true!" he insisted.
"Please sit, my boy. You're looking rather unwell. May I offer you something to drink?" Palpatine asked. His voice was coming from miles away. Anakin hardly heard it.
"I--no. No, I'm all right," Anakin drew a breath and fought to pull himself erect. "I'm just—a little tired, that's all."
"Not sleeping well?"
"No," Anakin's laugh was bitter, desperate. "I haven't been sleeping well for a few years now."
"I quite understand, my boy. Quite," Palpatine assured him. "Anakin, we must stop pretending. The final crisis is approaching, and our only hope to survive it is to be completely, absolutely, ruthlessly honest with each other. Do you think they won't kill you, too? They know your power will be too strong to control. But this is bigger than that, too. You must understand that what is at stake here is nothing less than the fate of the galaxy."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Anakin plunged a hand through his hair and grit his teeth.
"Don't be afraid. What is said between us here need never pass beyond these walls. Anakin, think. Think how hard it has been to hold all your secrets inside. Have you ever needed to keep a secret from me? I know that you are in love with your best friend's wife. I have watched you stand beside him--beside both of them--all these years, never asking for a thing in return. And it wasn't Obi Wan you told about the slaughter at the Tusken camp. It was me. A few days ago, I was there when you executed Count Dooku--"
"I didn't execute anyone!" Anakin barked.
"But you wanted to, didn't you? When you threw the lightsaber and watched his head roll onto the floor, you weren't horrified. You were glad. Glad that you had killed him, that you had gotten your revenge. I know. And I know where you got the power to defeat him. You see? You have never needed to pretend with me, the way you must with your Jedi comrades. Do you understand that you need never hide anything from me? That I accept you exactly as you are?" He spread his hands in a gesture of welcome. It seemed to Anakin that he was offering a hug. "Share with me the truth. Your absolute truth. Let yourself out. How often have you dreamt of not having to pretend--pretending to be the perfect Jedi--the Chosen One--everyone's savior?"
"I--" Anakin shook his head. "I wouldn't even know how to begin."
"It's quite simple, in the end. Tell me what you want," Palpatine replied.
"I don't understand," he said.
"Of course you don't. You've been trained to never think about that. The Jedi never ask what you want. They simply tell you what you're supposed to want. They never give you a choice at all. That's why they take their students-- their victims--at an age so young that choice is meaningless. By the time a Padawan is old enough to choose, he has been so indoctrinated--so brainwashed--that he is incapable of even considering the question. But you're different, Anakin. You had a real life, outside the Jedi Temple. You can break through the fog of lies the Jedi have pumped into your brain. Let me help you to know the real subtleties of the Force. "
"How do you know the ways of the Force?" Anakin asked as a sharp, sickening realization began to twist through his gut.
"My mentor taught me everything about the Force," Palpatine told him quite candidly. "Even the nature of the Dark Side."
