"And in the event of my untimely passing, the leadership of the Emperor along with all powers associated with such position shall pass over to Count Dooku of Serenno."
"Is that everything, your highness?"
"Almost, Amedda. I shall be entertaining guests this evening, ensure that the Senate building is quite vacant. I wish no interruptions for what is to transpire."
"As always, your will is my command."
With a bow, Representative Amedda left the Emperor's suite, taking the pair of Red Guard with him and leaving Emperor Sidious alone. From the Ceremonial Office for Official Meetings, the ruler of Coruscant surveyed the capital world of his new galactic order and he was most pleased. All of it was his. Every building visible and beyond, every vehicle making its way through the neverending traffic cycles and every living creature on the surface down the lowest levels. Even the artificial weather enhancing the sunset glistening the world in vibrant oranges was his to do with as he saw fit.
Oh, it had been his for a very long time already but now it was in an even more official capacity. The Republic was dead, the Empire was born a mere two hours past. He declared its lifelong leader. The final meager shackles were removed at last and the grand design of the Sith was at long last realized. A thousand years of plotting, subversion of order and justice wherever it existed had led to this moment. As the greatest of the line, it was fitting that Darth Sidious should see the seeds of Bane's labors finally spring to life.
Though his elation was not quite so grand before the speech to the Senate. In truth, a rare dark mood was upon him for most of the day. The Jedi Order, who should've been annihilated or brought to its very edge was vilified, yes, but alive in greater numbers. Scurrying about in their secret worlds and ancient hyperspace paths and waiting for their moment to strike. Not unlike what the Sith had done to them, how ironic.
As the Senate bowed their heads and slobbered on the floor as the beaten, indoctrinated hounds that they were, Sidious' mood improved considerably. Standing in their midst, reaching out into their fear, their anger, and their madness, Sidious let all of their darkest inclinations laid bare for the galaxy to see invigorate him. It was almost as satisfying as feasting on the pain and death throughout the Jedi Temple.
Yet the primary reason he now sat in his former Chancellor office, hands resting upon the chair arms and back pressed against the comfortable cushion, came from the Force itself. Ever since Skywalker returned to Coruscant, his renewed presence in the Force had done something to the children growing within Senator Amidala. Theirs was a connection unlike any he had seen before and such was its strength, Sidious lost the ability to influence Skywalker's subconscious thoughts. However, this was but the start. For as he attempted to perceive the future, his clarity was diminished as well, particularly in regards to the burgeoning Skywalker family.
It was, for this reason, he could not fathom the full currents of the future, could not properly prevent Amidala's flight from Coruscant, or complete the long-gestating corruption of her husband. For a time, this displeased him as well. Losing Skywalker, one so ripe with potential within the Dark Side, so self-aggrandizing and simultaneously weak to slightest of human affection was the perfect apprentice. Kenobi, always Kenobi, brought true calm to the young man since the first time Sidious met him over a decade ago and rendered plans spanning the same time span all for naught. Then the children of Skywalker escaped, more apprentices lost to him.
Not all failures were absolute, and the flight of the Skywalker family was no exception. With their troublesome interference to the Dark Side far, far away, Sidious could once again perceive the tangles of possibility, and this time they led to a most pleasing vision of the near future. Within but a short span of hours, after night falls on Coruscant and the rest of the galaxy remains completely unaware, as the useless masses always are, two great battles will happen. One here, and one on the faraway world of Mustafar.
Kenobi will engage Tyrannus in the Outer Rim. The student of Qui-Gon Jinn facing Jinn's own fallen Master. Dooku was already made aware of this in a final conversation following the Senate hearing. One in which Sidious instructed him to let the Jedi come to him and deal with them as he saw fit, they needed to thin the herd. Though truthfully, the outcome is of little consequence no matter who prevailed. If Tyrannus succeeds, then he will have proven himself useful enough for Sidious to forgive his foolishness this morning. If not? Then the Jedi will serve the Sith's purposes well again. Allowing Sidious to spin a great tale of Jedi retribution and of Count Dooku's valiant last stand to prevent the treacherous order from taking command of deactivated Separatist armies.
The true battle will unfold inside the Senate building. Between Sidious, Yoda, and Skywalker. The only beings left in the galaxy who might prove troublesome enough for Sidious to begrudgingly call them threats. His supremacy over them was assured, for as he saw the battle in his mind's eye, a smile of utmost contentment spread across his face and did not leave it since.
Yoda lied on the ground, his robes were charred and body unmoving. Sidious, victorious, strong, and laughing approaching upon him with yet more Sith Lightning. And between them? Skywalker, battered, bruised, and clinging to what little power he has left. Uselessly defending himself and his precious Grand Master with but one remaining hand. His eyes first clouded by despair, then reignited by anger and finally, pure hatred. The gaze of the Dark Side. It was the final part of the vision but it was all the proof the Emperor needed to understand.
Skywalker's fall was not averted, merely postponed. Though the vision did not detail further events, Sidious saw little reason to gaze beyond, the future was certain. The boy would, when pressed against a wall, lash out with hatred. Sidious will defeat him regardless, his last spurt of anger was no threat to a man who personified the Dark Side. Once he was properly cowed into submission, he would reveal all of the Jedi's secrets, in so doing dooming the Order at long last. None would be spared save for Skywalker's own children. Not even Anakin himself.
The advantage of the young, the pure, and the easily impressionable was how easy it was to condition them into what you wanted. And the thought of two Skywalkers burning with a Maul-like zeal to live, serve and die at the slightest of Sidious' whims was something he very much looked forward to. And if one chose to rebel? Well, it was of no great consequence, the advantage of twins was you always had a spare.
Some Hours Later, Mustafar...
Dooku knew who it was before answering the call. His Master had foretold the Jedi's arrival and the Count was most looking forward to facing this particular adversary. Perhaps even more than fighting Yoda, a privilege Master Sidious would partake in himself shortly, no doubt. Standing tall, Dooku accepted the unknown transmission and could not help but smile as the image of Obi-Wan Kenobi from inside a starfighter came to life.
"Master Kenobi, it is a pleasure to see you once again."
"Master Dooku," Obi-Wan inclined his head with the mild tone he was so fond of. "I see you've been expecting me."
The Count infinitesimally raised an eyebrow at the title used for him but decided to not press the issue. "Quite so, Jedi are so predictable after all. In fact, I am surprised you waited this long to strike in the first place."
"My apologies, we were all so riveted by Sidious' performance this afternoon it was difficult to stop watching."
"Do you see now, Obi-Wan? How far the Republic has fallen? How the rabble of the Senate frothed at the mouth like beggars waiting for the tiniest scrap of food?"
"The Republic has fallen quite far yes. Brought so low as to allow one such as Sidious into a position of leadership, though our own blame cannot be understated as well. Sidious' success is a testament to our own efforts as well."
This time, Dooku couldn't help the faint flash of surprise from crossing his features. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the exemplar of the Order, criticizing it so? Promising.
"Forgive me if I am mistaken," Dooku spoke pleasantly. "But I have heard you dislike flying? Why don't you land, so that we may converse as proper gentlemen?"
"I would be most grateful, no need to send me coordinates, I already know where everything is."
Ending communication, Dooku de-activated the station's defense systems. Though it could most certainly deny Obi-Wan entry, he saw little need for it. Kenobi was a known performer of the impossible, almost as much as Skywalker, and would get in regardless. Besides, Dooku did not wish for him to perish, not in this way. Under the still high probability that they did cross swords, Dooku wished to... Indulge himself in such a contest. To see Obi-Wan's skills privately, with no Skywalker to interrupt them. If he was half as good as the Count perceived from their battle over Coruscant, then it was worth the time he'd spend.
And if Kenobi was more amiable to Dooku's views this time around, well, why waste a potentially worthy ally?
The Jedi Master landed forthwith in a standard Actis starfighter on the landing pad outside. Initial scans showed it lacked an astromech, no doubt its navigational computer automatically erased its own data banks. Dooku would learn nothing of Obi-Wan's departure point from there. Not an issue, there were always other means of persuasion. Standing in the center of the command section of the station, Dooku smiled pleasantly and observed Obi-Wan enter with the doors wooshing behind him. Even a minute outside in the heat had left him sweating.
With the same mild interest, he observed the room first, taking in all of its details from the numerous tactical displays, control consoles, entrances, exits before settling on Dooku. Standing face to face, he continued to show nothing but mild interest, inwardly or outwardly at being face to face with a Sith Lord. A victorious one at that.
"May I interest you in a beverage?" Dooku asked, stepping aside and inclining his hand to the direction of a suite situated adjacent to the command center. "You look like you could use it."
"That's quite alright," Kenobi waved the offer aside, casting away his larger robes onto the floor. He made no reach for his lightsaber. "There, all better already."
"Then let us dispense with the pleasantries and get to the heart of the matter."
"Yes, lets," He said, still making no move toward his weapon. For the time being, neither did Dooku. "Master Dooku, I am here with an offer for you."
"An offer?" Tyrannus ignored the Master title again, instead of focusing on perceiving what Obi-Wan's intentions were. As ever, his presence in the Force was strong and pure. The same translucent being above Coruscant stood before him again. Nothing had changed? Not even the destruction wreaked upon the Jedi? Impressive in its misguided devotion but secretly, Dooku hoped it was but a facade. After all, he had wished to recruit Obi-Wan on numerous occasions, even before their duel on Coruscant. Having Qui-Gon's old student at his side would make a great many things easier.
"Indeed, per the guidance of the Force, I ask you, Master Dooku, to return to the Jedi and aid us in our time of need."
The Count stared for a time before chuckling and ultimately laughing, loudly and quite an undignified fashion. Indeed, it had been years since a claim so outrageous had amused him so. Not since Ventress' foolish proclamation of being a Sith instead of a mere, embittered tool for him to use. If Obi-Wan had truly learned anything from recent events, he would have used Dooku's apparent guard lowering to strike him down and achieve victory. Instead, he merely stood there, arms hanging at his sides, and waited until the laughter died out.
"Ah, Obi-Wan," Dooku let out a final chuckle. "I had hoped you'd become wiser, that you had learned something."
"My learning of something is what guided me here, to you with this offer."
"The offer from the Force?"
"Quite so," Obi-Wan inclined his head. "As Qui-Gon so often told me and the rest of the Council, it is the needs of the Force we Jedi should concern ourselves with. For we are, like all creatures, bound to it, and being so gifted with a greater connection must listen to its advice and always work in service to it. If we had done so, we might've been able to avert far more than the Clone Wars. Galidraan, Naboo,... All of these events may never have come to pass. Even Master Yoda has come to understand this."
"What?" Dooku asked despite himself, curiosity piqued again. "Yoda, admitting failure? Admitting the error of his ways?"
"I saw it myself, and while it was strange to witness, he was not altogether wrong. His realization of our faults is what allowed so many of us to survive, after all."
"That would have been something to see," Dooku said, imagining the sight of despairing Yoda with some measure of enjoyment. "Unfortunately, it is still but a half measure. Had you or Yoda or the rest seen true reason, you would've embraced the power of the Dark Side already. You should have accepted your birth-given status as beings above others and moved to remove your enemy by any means necessary. If you had, you would've thrived, not merely survived."
"What a strange thing to say, advocating for the defeat of your own side," Obi-Wan's faint amusement sparked an ire to rise from Dooku. "At a glance, one might agree with your assessment. Yet I find it equally fitting and peculiar to hear from you."
"What are you blathering on about?"
"You yourself stand as a testament to the very idea you suggested to us. A Jedi Master whose response to the legitimate failures of his government and Order has embraced the idea of power at all costs to try and fix it. You have certainly lived up to it and I cannot fathom how you can support them after everything that's happened."
Tyrannus scowled but said nothing.
"Look at what you have wrought upon the galaxy by embracing the Sith ideals. War, destruction, millions dead, worlds razed to the ground-"
"Order and security ensured, the corruption snuffed out-"
"And the Jedi order butchered in droves," Obi-Wan cut in with some force in his voice. Then he sighed. "All of this has occurred in part from a single Jedi choosing to fall to the Dark Side, how can you possibly say the rest of us should've done the same? Can you not see what madness would come from it?"
"Enough," Tyrannus barked, cape pushed aside and arm moving to his lightsaber. "I had hoped you'd learned, at last, the folly of the Jedi. Yet you've merely become conceited in another way. I tire of this meaningless banter, defend yourself, Master Kenobi."
"So I will," He removed his weapon from its belt. "But my mission remains clear, Master. I intend to save you because I can see you are not entirely lost. Not yet."
"Those who see things for what they truly are, are never lost, boy," The red blade came to life while a quick telekinetic suggestion prompted the doors and windows to shut down. There would be no daring escape from Mustafar. What happened next was to the death. "Now, let us see if Skywalker was the reason you survived our last duel."
"That goes without saying," He answered with a calm smile and ignition of his saber. "However, I will endeavor not to disappoint you this time, Master Dooku."
Meanwhile, Gormo...
Padmé stared past the wall of their room, past the Dreadnaughts hull and past the very stars separating her husband from their family. Since saying goodbye to him, hopefully for the last time in this war, she decided to get some rest but couldn't. Her mind was awhirl with too many questions. Were her fellow members of the Loyalist Committee all right? Were they already arrested? Did Bail do the smart thing and vote for Palpatine to buy himself some time or did he vote against and in so doing, placed a target on himself from a Sith Lord.
She worried for Obi-Wan, far away and alone on a mission just as dangerous as Anakin's. To redeem a Sith Lord, the Jedi Masters she asked on the subject told conflicting stories. Stories of Jedi who'd fallen and came back, like one Darth Revan or Ulic Qel-Droma. But there were others as well, Exar Kun, Darth Malak who refused even to the bitter end. Padmé hoped he succeeded, not just for all their sakes but for Anakin's as well. He would be inconsolable if something happened to Obi-Wan.
Yet what Anakin thought or felt became impossible for her to discern. Not thanks to the distance between them but thanks to the Dark Side and the twins. He and Master Yoda vanished somewhere she assumed was Coruscant. Disappearing behind a thick, black fog of chill which nearly suffocated them all. This time was different from the last, the connection between them was substantially weakened, in spite of what they all must've wanted. Parents and children alike.
Did that mean Anakin was already in danger? Or did the Dark Side discover some means of blocking the tie binding them together? Was it because of the twins? Since Anakin left, they started feeling strange, different. In a way she could not put into words. They'd become more detached for some reason, were they afraid too? No, she doubted that was it. The two of them, not even born were so very brave already, fighting off the Dark Side years before they'd even know what it is. Hopefully, they'd never have to.
With a smile, Padmé rubbed her belly once again but stopped when she felt something wet just underneath the spot she was sitting. It was a puddle, getting bigger with each passing moment... Coming directly from her.