Hold Fast

Chapter VII: The Intruders

[BEFORE]

When Anakin had seen the Jedi Temple for the first time, had gazed in awe upon the huge statues guarding the grand entrance, dwarfing anyone and everything, it had only reinforced his belief that the beings who had made such a magnificent building were surely the most powerful in the galaxy, capable of anything. He had wanted so badly to be one of them – the greatest of them. That naïve belief in the Jedi's omnipotence hadn't lasted very long, but that fervent wish to be the best had never really left him.

He had wanted to prove to all the doubters that he belonged in that ancient building, had wanted to show to all who looked at him with derision or suspicion or pity – too old, too fearful, too uneducated, too angry, too much – that he had earned his place to be there, that he would become stronger, better, more powerful than any of them.

However, despite all his accomplishments – or perhaps precisely because of them – he had never fitted in, always on the outside, apart. No one ever forgot just where he had come from, least of all himself. Often unable to sleep, he had roamed the halls of the Temple, exploring every forgotten passage way and deserted chamber, detesting the cold cavernous rooms that differed so much from Tatooine, but still feeling an odd kinship with the building, the empty spaces echoing back his loneliness. He recognized now, that there had always been two warring passions in him: one that wanted to tear down the Temple to its foundations, and one that yearned to find a true home within its walls. Based on his experiences, the first one had always been the most likely outcome of the two.

And yet, you did have a home, something whispered insistently, with Obi-Wan.

Aching to the roots of his heart, Anakin resolutely squashed the distant voice. All of his unwelcome, errant thoughts were trampled under the heavy thudding of boots that marched up the stairs of the Processional Way. With each step, he was nearing the main entrance, the massive pylons coming closer. Etched on their surface were the figures of the four Masters, who had founded the Temple, and they followed now Anakin's approach with stony faces. They could do nothing to stop him. No one could.

The 501st marched behind Anakin unquestioningly, never hesitating. Anakin had always known his men would follow him to the gates of hell and beyond; he had just never imagined they would do it like this. Should he be proud that they obeyed him still? Should he commend them for their loyalty to the Republic? No doubt he should. And yet, he could not help but be disgusted at how easily the troops had turned on their Jedi comrades, how blindly they followed orders, proving themselves finally to be nothing more than mindless clones. If Anakin had not been leading them, they would have been trying to kill him – they were not loyal to him or anyone else really. They only did as they were designed to do.

It cheapened everything they had went through together, diminished every bloody struggle and hardship they had endured on the battlefield. They were lesser men than Anakin had thought, and that enraged him, made him feel cheated. He was glad that at least Rex was not there, that the Captain's expertise had been needed on a mission and he had already left for the Mid Rim days ago. Appo had taken Rex's place on Anakin's right side, but he felt nothing for Appo, except the urge to sneer at his blank and cold obedience, the dark urge to plunge his saber into the clone's heart. Traitor, his mind whispered. Traitors, the both of us, all of us.

Ruin and destruction awaited those sheltering inside the Temple's sturdy walls, and yet Anakin knew it was him and his troops who were inexplicably marching into their own doom.

-o-

[NOW]

When Obi-Wan emerged from his meditation, he half-expected to find himself alone. However, to his surprise, Anakin was still in the room with him, sitting at the small table, just as he had been, when Obi-Wan had reluctantly immersed himself in the Force. It had been hours since then, and Anakin had had ample opportunities to ditch Obi-Wan and do whatever he wanted, but somehow, he was still there. He had not decided against waiting, had not rushed to the Royal Palace to try to kill Palpatine by himself. He had not left Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan did not want to think about what that could mean.

Except for the lone glow-lamp on the table, the room was dark. Head bent over his work, tangled hair falling into his eyes, Anakin fiddled with the different mechanical parts laid out in front of him. That sight was something Obi-Wan had witnessed innumerable times; he wondered if Anakin still got some measure of peace from tinkering, or if that old truth about his friend had also changed with everything else.

Obi-Wan rose from his cross-legged position on the floor, aching muscles protesting. Automatically, he stretched his arms and back, as he always did after a long meditation session. The Force around him hummed, restful yet expectant. Content yet yearning.

"Feel better?" Anakin's hushed voice still sounded too loud in the silent room.

"Some," Obi-Wan admitted curtly, feeling ashamed at his earlier defeatism and tiredness. Both his body and mind had been on the verge of a shutdown, too many shocks and hits having landed past his defences. Meditation had not been something Obi-Wan had wanted to do, but he had finally recognized it was something he badly needed in order to even begin to try to repair some of the damage.

As he continued his stretches, Obi-Wan took stock of himself; he did feel somewhat better, at least less like he would keel over at any moment. The techniques that he had learnt from Healer S`ghan, when he had been aboard the Refuge, seemed to have helped, the Force starting to heal the cells that the time travel had again frayed and torn. His mind felt sharper too, less muddled by guilt and grief. As for those emotions, and the many others – anger, despair, resentment, longing, hope, love –, they would take much more than one meditation to sort out, to let go. If they ever even could be released fully; they were now so tightly interlaced with the very essence of Obi-Wan's being, he felt like they would forever be a part of him.

If he let it, the small apartment echoed back all those feelings. The owners of the house were mere memories, smiling faces inside a picture frame, only a black mourning ribbon on the front door telling their fate. The family had in all likelihood died in the invasion, and their once happy home was now only an empty space, offering an opportune hiding place for Obi-Wan and Anakin, conveniently situated near the Royal Palace.

The blue numbers of the chronometer on the shelf told Obi-Wan it was late evening, the sky outside turned dark. The celebrations were to continue long into the night, but the Chancellor would retire to his rooms half-way through the festivities. The time to act drew ever closer.

"Soon," Anakin remarked quietly, as if he knew the direction of Obi-Wan's thoughts – and he probably did. They had waited together for the zero hour in all manner of places and situations, their plans well-thought-out or non-existent, but in the end, always sure of one thing: each other. That last surety now taken from him, Obi-Wan felt that anything could happen at any moment. There were no guarantees, even if Anakin wanted the same thing as Obi-Wan, even if he looked and acted like the partner Obi-Wan had once relied on. A familiar cold calm had settled over Anakin. The deadly focus was the general in him, the strategist and the leader. Was it also the Sith in him?

Obi-Wan joined Anakin at the table, looking at what his former apprentice was making. He recognized some of the parts, taken from common household items, Anakin fitting them together into a contraption, twisting them to form a purpose their manufacturers had most certainly not intended. He was making small explosive devices.

Of course he is. Perhaps Obi-Wan should have been more alarmed by that than he actually was.

Anakin shot a quick glance at him, lips quirking in wry amusement. "Just in case we run into some…complications."

Some of those complications could turn out to be the numerous guards who were only doing their duty, or all the other people gathered at the palace who had nothing to do with Palpatine, or the Jedi Council members who were no doubt still alert for the smallest sign of danger.

"Just remember, we are not here to kill innocent people," Obi-Wan said sharply, reminded again of what Anakin's dark temper had done to Ventress, to those soldiers on Nubia – to the Jedi in the Temple.

"Most of those innocent people will die anyway, if we don't stop Palpatine," Anakin spat out through gritted teeth, jaw clenched. "And those who get to live, he'll ruin their lives. He deceives and manipulates and destroys and he takes everything they have…" Anakin's bitter words tapered into heavy silence. Obi-Wan stared at the explosives, cold to the core of him, trying to retain that fleeting feel of restfulness the meditation had given him.

"He ruined me," Anakin said at last, all too matter-of-fact.

Since there was no help for it, Obi-Wan lay his hand atop Anakin's, carefully and gently, keeping it pressed against the leather-clad mechanical fingers for just a small moment.

He did not say, I know. He did not say, he ruined us both. He did not say, we will kill him.

He did not have to.

-o-

Only someone, who was either a complete fool or extremely desperate, would try to break in unnoticed into Naboo's Royal Palace. Either way, they had better be thoroughly prepared to even get near one of the entrances. The building was extensively protected; besides the highly trained and dedicated guards, the ancient palace itself had been situated and built with security in mind. It was located on the edge of a tall cliff, and there were several watch towers on the rock face, making the scaling of the cliff, if not wholly impossible, at least such a great folly, even Obi-Wan and Anakin knew better than to attempt it.

The side of the palace that faced the city didn't offer any less hardships for uninvited guests. The massive structure of towers and rotundas was surrounded by a huge garden, which in turn was enclosed inside an impressive security fence that could not be penetrated or climbed. Guards were stationed at every entrance, and they also patrolled the grounds and the perimeter of the garden, alert and ready to defend their Queen.

So, only the fools and the desperate tried to sneak in, and Obi-Wan and Anakin undoubtedly were both. But luckily, they also had several advantages that others did not. Firstly, they were experts in breaking out – and sometimes in – of supremely difficult places. Secondly, they knew the Royal Palace. Obi-Wan had searched his memory, had dragged forth everything he remembered of what the building had been like a decade ago. Thirdly, they were very determined, and that, Obi-Wan knew, sometimes made all the difference. Oh, and also, they could use the Force.

They bypassed the main entrance entirely, knowing the grand doors facing the Palace Plaza were too visible and central an entry point to try anything. The little known, out-of-the-way security gate leading into a side garden was a much better option. It could only be opened with a passcode that few knew, the guards stationed outside the gate being among those few – an oversight that would be corrected in the future. Naboo had only encountered its first dark Force-user mere days ago, and no one had yet had time to plan precautions against Force-sensitive intruders. None had imagined how easy it could be to mind trick the guards, to get them to give the password and make them forget anything uncommon had ever happened. However, that would change soon; Padmé was a quick learner.

Once inside the garden, they flitted from shadow to shadow, creeping around the patrolling guards, silent and quick. The secret passage that led through the garden to the palace's main hangar was exactly were Obi-Wan remembered; a practical way for the Queen to exit the building unseen, but also an easy path inside for those with less than noble intentions. More challenging than avoiding the guards and entering the palace unseen was the effort it took to mask their Force signatures. They were both all too aware that there were several Jedi and a Sith lord in the premises, and even a slight flickering of their tight shields could reveal their presence. And still, the most difficult thing was yet to come – confronting Palpatine.

But they had to find him first.

The Royal Palace was huge, filled with vast, cavernous corridors and stairs, with hundreds of chambers meant for official functions or private use. Obi-Wan knew where the Queen's throne room and audience chambers were, and he had also seen the massive library and the adjoining study rooms. These were all situated in the official part of the building, and their quarry was unlikely to be there. However, next to that section of the palace stood the lavish residence wing, where visiting dignitaries were housed, and where Palpatine surely had to be staying.

The closer they got to the residence wing, the harder Obi-Wan's heart slammed against his ribcage. They had gotten fairly far into the palace through deserted corridors, but gradually the emptiness gave way to approaching footsteps, quiet conversations or sounds of laughter. More than once they had to hide inside random rooms or behind big statues and tapestries, subtly diverting the attention of the passing guards and hurrying servants away from them with the Force. It made their progress excruciatingly slow, something that was getting on Anakin's – and, if he was perfectly honest, also on Obi-Wan's – nerves.

Woosh.

Ahead, a door suddenly swished open, and a servant stepped into the corridor. Standing in the middle of that very same corridor, half-way between its entrance and exit, Anakin and Obi-Wan both froze on the spot. Her back to them, the servant was manoeuvring a big silver tray through the doorway, trying not to tip over the various dishes heaped upon it.

Once again Obi-Wan found himself dashing for cover, wedging himself between a statue's butt and the wall. Perhaps in some other circumstance Obi-Wan could have seen the humour in the situation – because lacking any other viable options, Anakin squeezed unceremoniously next to him, elbow digging into Obi-Wan's side. The naked male statue, in size twice that of a normal human, luckily just covered them both, although it was an extremely tight fit. Obi-Wan was afraid to move even an inch, feeling the weight and shape of Anakin's home-made devices, some of them stashed inside the pockets of his own robe. With Anakin so near him, the situation was explosive in more than one way.

It was the closest they had been to each other since Obi-Wan had brushed his mouth against Anakin's forehead on the dock of the Vigilance, saying goodbye, seemingly a lifetime ago.

It was deceptively, torturously, wonderfully familiar.

Anakin was pressed against Obi-Wan from shoulder to hip, and like always, the warmth and firmness of his body was tangible and grounding, making Obi-Wan feel wondrously alive. The smell of him – a mix of sweat and engine oil, with an underlying hint of something sharp and cool, like the night air on Tatooine – hit Obi-Wan like a physical punch, making him breathe in deeply.

Anakin's nearness, however unintended and innocent, revealed a cruel truth: Obi-Wan's mind could protest and argue and scream how wrong it all was, but the body did not listen. No, Obi-Wan's body only remembered and yearned and wanted, not knowing any other way.

Flushing from sudden heat – Anakin, as always, was a furnace, running hot – and his skin tingling, Obi-Wan tried to concentrate on the sounds around him: another woosh as the door closed, a clink and faint cursing as the servant continued to struggle with the tray, and finally receding footsteps as she headed for the opposite direction from them. Then silence.

There was only the sound of Anakin breathing, the heavy exhales and inhales of air, just above Obi-Wan's ear, making him shiver. Anakin's mouth, almost touching the side of Obi-Wan's face, a strand of his hair tickling Obi-Wan's brow. The touch of Anakin's hand, pressing against Obi-Wan's ribs, hesitant yet possessive.

Close. Too close. Not close enough.

"Soon," Anakin murmured, his voice burrowing deep into Obi-Wan's bones, igniting every nerve. "He will be gone, and we will be –"

But he did not continue, and Obi-Wan chose to believe it was relief – and only relief – he felt, when Anakin detached his hold on Obi-Wan and eased himself out of their hiding place. There was suddenly distance between them again, room to breathe and think and focus. There was no time, no space for anything else but the mission.

"Let's get a move on," Anakin whispered, already striding ahead, not looking back at Obi-Wan. Feeling the same urgency, Obi-Wan followed him briskly, knowing they had to pick up the pace if they were to succeed.

Two members of the Senate Guard flanked the entrance to the residence wing. Hoods of their robes drawn over their heads, Anakin and Obi-Wan strolled towards them casually, banking on that the guards would believe them to be part of the Jedi retinue. That got them close enough to mind trick the men into believing they really were the Jedi staying in the palace.

The residence wing's opulent foyer was unoccupied, the large room opening into three wide corridors that led into the guestrooms and suites. Obi-Wan could sense dozens of minds nearby and – oh Force – Master Yoda was one of them. He had a mad urge to snicker; Obi-Wan felt like an errant youngling, trying to sneak into a forbidden room in the Jedi Temple. However, the thought itself was enough to sober him. The Temple was – would be – in ruins. Their home would be forever gone, if Obi-Wan failed.

Led partly by memory, partly by hunch, Obi-Wan cautiously took a peek at the corridor on his right side. It ended in old-fashioned double doors that were watched over by a pair of Senate Guards. And behind those doors – Obi-Wan could sense Palpatine. The Sith's Force presence was subtle and unassuming, ordinary. It was also a lie, a masterful disguise that had managed to fool even the best of Jedi. Deceiving everyone around him for decades, scheming and preparing for war right under their noses – could that kind of man really be taken by surprise? Soon they would see…

Behind him, Anakin was so tense, Obi-Wan felt him – felt that overwhelming urge to take action, to rush to the doors, yank them open and ignite his blade, felt the rough pull –

"No!" Anakin screeched, storming around Obi-Wan, but too late –

For there was only the blinding, pulsing, tearing white. The colour of bitter failure.