Chapter 5

The Peacemaker's Retreat was located to the west of the city of Moenia, in the Naboo hills overlooking a crystal-clear lake. It was a beautiful location, befitting the great man who lived there full-time since his departure from the galactic capital.

After Palpatine's resignation as Supreme Chancellor, a grateful Senate dipped into the Treasury to purchase the land and build him a retirement sanctuary. The name they gave it underlined the reason for the gift, as the leader who guided the Republic through the Clone Wars and brought back stability to a weary galaxy. Having had his fill of the complexity of government, and of directing an enormous war effort, the peacemaker in question lived a simple life with only a handful of droids to look after the premises and attend to his modest needs. Since he had no family, he wanted nothing more than a quiet old age on his homeworld, dedicating his days to agricultural pursuits and writing an autobiographical account of his career in front-line politics.

There were no security measures required to protect one of the Republic's most beloved servants. No guard towers, military vehicles or uniformed guards met Anakin's gaze as their 'speeder hummed toward the building along an approach road no wider than four or five metres. He could not help but admire the large central dome surrounded by several smaller ones, and the veranda adorning the front of the property. He knew the latter was balanced by a spacious balcony to the back with a view of the lake, upon which Uncle Sheev held occasional get-togethers. The last time he remembered visiting was a party in honour of their Army friend Captain Rex: under the pretext of celebrating his notional birthday, since as a clone he did not have a proper one. It had been an enjoyable evening nonetheless.

Although a while had passed, the grounds looked the same as ever. There were fields planted with a rainbow of flowers and vegetables, in service of Palpatine's main hobby. He loved coaxing growth out of the soil, nurturing plant life in a bucolic re-imagining of the role he had played as mentor toward a myriad of younger figures, including the now adult Jedi Master who came to see him.

Skywalker and Tano spotted him from afar, as their 'speeder passed a patch of brightly-coloured Ortolan orchids that regularly won awards at Chommel sector flower shows. In contrast with the fancy clothes he indulged in as a politician, the former leader of the free galaxy wore an outfit of rough fabric suited for outdoor toil. He knelt in the dirt, digging in the ground with a handheld implement and flanked by a repulsorbarrow of fertilizer. All such tasks could have been performed by mechanicals; yet he insisted on doing his part in tending his crops, at least to the extent his body could endure. If his droids were capable of appreciation, they appreciated the reduction in their work as a result of his willingness to share in it.

Judging from his movements as he creakily rose from his knees and wiped each of his hands on the chest of his tunic, he had heard them approach. A big grin washed across the old man's features upon recognising the visitors, and he strode in their direction with a palm held high to invite them to stop the vehicle.

Skywalker hopped out first, in what he hoped was a suitably apologetic manner.

"Sorry to turn up without notice, Uncle Sheev. I know you don't like unwelcome surprises."

The fellow enveloped his entire arm in a handshake. "Don't be silly, Anakin. This is a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. And speaking of surprises, if it isn't Jedi Tano! It's been years since we last met. My goodness, you've grown." He made a flourish with the gardening trowel he held in his left hand, in a parody of the customs of the Naboo aristocracy. "Grown more beautiful, I mean."

Master Skywalker stifled a grin taking shape on one side of his face. The unmarried Chancellor was always a charmer, though without forming any long-term attachments throughout his life. In that way, actually, he had something in common with the old-Academy Jedi Masters whom Anakin had clashed with regarding Padmé. Yet as amusing as he found his mentor's smarmy charm, he also liked his former Padawan's response to it.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Palpatine. I'm as beautiful as an old boot at the back of a closet, and I don't much care."

"Ah, young Ahsoka, fiery as ever. I should have expected nothing else." Palpatine motioned them to accompany him inside. "Come now. If you'll make yourselves comfortable in the main reception hall, I'll change out of these work clothes. I can't entertain two venerable Jedi with dirt all over my trousers, can I? It would be most undignified."

A short while later, the retired Chancellor returned to the room where he entertained his guests at the Retreat. Having shed his shabby gardening outfit, he was dressed in a loose black robe, adorned by a long red scarf draped around his neck. It was a much more civilised get-up for his visitors to see him in, old friends though they were.

He noted with a smile how both Jedi had – surely not coincidentally – chosen to sit cross-legged on rather meagre footstools. No backs, no armrests, only a small circular cushion to rest their limbs upon. It was, after all, typical of Knights to shun comfort as part of their ascetic religion. Some of them might have found the luxurious interior of his home disorientating, with its mottled pink and tan marble walls, and extensive gold-lined maroon carpets throughout. For, unlike the austere buildings the Jedi were accustomed to, the Treasury had been generous in covering the construction and furnishing costs for such flourishes.

"Here we are," he greeted them, settling into a plush velvet chair. "Now, do tell. What can I do for you, my dear Masters Jedi?"

Anakin took the lead. "This morning, at my place, when I hit my head. I don't remember what happened, and I've been feeling weird ever since." He hesitated, as the process of putting his suspicions into words, in front of anyone other than the apprentice he had almost considered a sister, embarrassed him.

"Haven't you had your head looked at?" replied Sheev with concern. "If you're experiencing significant disorientation, it could be a concussion."

"It's not that. Well, it is that, but it's more than that." Skywalker slammed a fist into his palm. "I've been hearing things, remembering things, that don't seem to fit in this reality. We conjecture something might be going on with alternate universes, the echo of events crossing from one to another without warning."

"Oh dear, that does sound bad. Is there a cure?"

Ahsoka broke in with a rumble of impatience. She did not seem to like their host's patronising tone. "Give a few examples, Skyguy. That might help him take you seriously."

"Well, I spoke to Master Kit Fisto on a comm call, even though I was sure he was dead; and I've heard about what Jocasta Nu and Mace Windu are doing, even though I thought they were too.

"I discovered I own a podracing team, despite feeling like that experience belonged to someone else, not me, and I was acting out a weird role talking to one of my employees about their work.

"I had trouble using the Force to defend myself from a squad of Neimoidian commandos who shouldn't exist in the first place, and shouldn't stanged well be here on Naboo. That's ridiculous, I'm extremely strong in the Force and have never had difficulty tapping into it.

"And worst of all, I have a persistent feeling there are 'Rebels' all over the place undermining the Republic. But my wife said that's not just false, it's not even a term anyone uses." He glanced at his friend. "Except for Snips and Republic Intelligence, apparently."

Palpatine shook his head, his lips pursed. "Though I'm no neurologist, it sounds like a paranoid episode. The Republic hasn't been in better shape for, well, decades! We've had no so-called 'Rebels' since they surrendered in the Armistice of Mustafar, to much celebration."

"That's what Padmé said. But I saw what I saw, and feel what I feel. Which leads me to the conclusion that something changed this morning when I had that accident."

They sat in silence for an interval, as the former leader of the galaxy made no reply. There was no way of guessing whether he knew nothing, or was choosing to say nothing. The usually ebullient politician remained quiet and enigmatic.

"What happened in that gym, Chancellor?" asked Ahsoka at last. "What did you do to him?"

"Really, I would never harm Anakin! You must believe me, my dear." Palpatine became agitated at the insinuation that he might have done something to harm his former protégé. It was absolutely not his nature. "I don't know what happened. I only recall what Anakin said he was doing, which obviously is mere second-hand evidence."

"That's the problem. I don't remember a thing."

Sheev gave a painful sigh. "You said you had been given a text to read. By whom, again, I don't know; Dooku is dead, so it wouldn't seem possible to have been him." He grimaced as he delved further into his memory. "The way you described it, the writing purported to be Sith lore; although we agreed it must have been a forgery, or a fiction, because those sorts of things don't exist in real life."

"Right. What was this… Sith text?"

"It was called: The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis."

Skywalker grunted from his throat in annoyance. "Kriff. I've never even heard that name."

"Of course: the concussion, the memory loss. You must have a med-droid give you a full scan as soon as possible. I beg you, visit my personal medic in Moenia; or if you prefer, I can comm the best facility in Theed for an appointment-"

"Back to the story," interrupted the Togruta icily. "You were explaining what happened. Please don't try to distract us."

Palpatine resumed with a frown in her direction. "You recounted something about a 'rend' that the author, or someone he knew, had opened in the fabric of the Force. I'm not one of you, I have no idea what that means. To me it sounded like Jedi gobbledygook… no offence."

A pallor made its way across Anakin's face. "Did- did I try to- to tear a hole in the Force?" he stammered. "Has that caused… all this?"

"It's plausible, Skyguy." Ahsoka stood up from her seat, a movement that emphasised the pair of lightsabers hanging at her belt as they clicked against her jumpsuit. "I have a feeling you messed around with the Force as a bit of fun, under the encouragement of the Chancellor. Because he was the one who gave you the Sith book: that's why he was at your house this morning in the first place."

Palpatine's jaw fell open in a cocktail of shock and outrage. "I assure you I did nothing of the kind! I would never-"

"Whatever experimenting you did in the Force, you succeeded in making a sort of hole in the fabric of space-time. Not a significant enough one for me, or anyone else to sense; just enough to mess with your connection to the Force, your experience of time and – flowing from this – memory. Since what we call memory is, in fact, just the mind's processing of time through reconstruction."

"You know what, Snips? Maybe."

"But to be honest," she continued with a dismissive gesture. "While it's all very fascinating from a theoretical point of view, I don't care about what happened. Your time-travel adventures aren't important. I wanted an excuse to come to the Peacemaker's Retreat with you."

Skywalker did not like the edge creeping into her voice. Something very wrong was in motion, like a giant starship slipping into orbit around a gravitational body.

"An excuse for what? What's going on? You're worrying me, Ahsoka."

"Indeed," agreed the former leader of the free galaxy, "I feel you're unusually negative in my regard, Jedi Tano. Is there an unresolved problem?" He smiled broadly, a little uneasily: ever the politician, ever the problem-solver. "Tell me. How can I make it better?"

"The problem is, the former Chancellor has been fomenting anti-Republic forces."

"That's preposterous!" erupted he. "I love democracy. I love the Republic-"

"Politicians always say that poodoo to curry favor with the voters," she snapped. "You love power more. Of course you do." She moved sideways, keeping him in her sights. "It eats away at you to give away your power – as it happened, at the moment of triumph when we, Jedi and Clones, finally won the War for you at the cost of so many of our lives. You've been plotting with the Neimoidian seditionists, to undermine the Republic and flatten the repulsorway for your return to the chancellorship."

She made a rectangle with her hands, imagining a propaganda image. "Terrorism is on the rise: Dowmeia can't protect you. Only Palpatine will bring order to the galaxy once again…"

"That's crazy, Snips!" cried Skywalker. "You're imagining things. Maybe things from another timeline, but still."

"Who's crazier?" she retorted with sarcasm. "The person with vision, or the one who banged his head and tore open the fabric of time?"

Ahsoka returned her attention to the old man. "Tell me about a rare bird you obtained. A certain red-spotted white pylat."

"I can't possibly be expected to remember-"

"You sent one as an expensive gift – or as it may also be known, a bribe – to Nute Gunray, twenty standard years ago. Through a million obstacles, our Verpine slicers tracked down datawork of a transaction involving a friend of yours: the late Muun financier, Hego Damask."

"My mentor Magister Damask had a way of persuading people to support his business interests, whether with words or with… financial incentives," smiled Palpatine. "He may well have had a hand in making such a gift, I grant."

"Did you send, as you put it, financial incentives to Gunray?"

"Perhaps I did. I must point out that during that period, it was not unusual to conduct politics in that fashion. I acknowledge that, both as Senator and as Chancellor, I made approaches to key figures in what became the Separatist movement. Attempts to keep them happy, to nurture their loyalty to the Republic like the flowers in my gardens. Sadly, as history attests, my attempts in that regard were to no avail."

"The funny thing is," resumed Ahsoka, "I paid Gunray a visit at Camp Enkner. He claims the bird was sent to him by a man calling himself Darth Sidious, and he maintained that story under… intense interrogation."

"Torture?" asked Skywalker. He doubted he would get a response, and did not.

"Count Dooku once told Master Kenobi that the Senate was under the control of a Sith Lord. The Jedi assumed it was a lie, an attempt to cloud Obi-Wan's mind, to shake his loyalty in case he might be open to joining the Separatists. After Dooku and Grievous were killed, and the Wars ended, we all forgot about it. Maybe we shouldn't have.

"You fraternized with the Trade Federation in its machinations. You conspired with the Separatists to start the Clone Wars. You are the Sith Lord, waiting a thousand years for your opportunity to strike at the heart of the Galactic Republic."

The accusation hung in the air like frozen mist, and stung nearly as much. A voice in Anakin's brain raised a concern he could not address: Why did you ask Uncle Sheev if he was a Sith Lord, when you came to after banging your head? Was it a question from another timeline?

Unaware of the younger man's musings, Palpatine found his own voice.

"This is madness! Firstly I know nothing about the Sith, beyond what little I learnt from the Jedi, who aren't terribly forthcoming in sharing their knowledge with civilians. And secondly, you know perfectly well I handed back my emergency powers and resigned as Chancellor. I don't control the Senate, I don't control anything! I'm just a retired politician cultivating my plants and writing my memoirs. Surely you can see that, child."

Tano did not appear persuaded by his arguments. "Maybe it's time to tear you away from your retirement projects and put you to the test. Of intense interrogation."

"Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?"

"Not quite… I'm not a Jedi anymore." She met Anakin's gaze. "And I'm not, technically, Republic Intelligence anymore either."

The Jedi Master's jaw dropped. His former Padawan had lied to his face? He was compelled to admit he had not sensed the deception. Was his ability to use the Force diminished? Or was she… more powerful than he imagined?

"What do you mean, Snips? If you're not in RepIntel, what- what are you?"

She drew herself up to her full height, straight as a flagpole outside the Senate building. Her hands went to her belt and took hold of her pair of lightsabers, with which she gesticulated without igniting them.

"Two years ago I joined the top-secret Inquisitorius Bureau, set up to root out and deal with the undesirables normal law enforcement can't handle." She sneered with contempt. "War criminals. Terrorists. Saboteurs. Insurgents. Subversives. And-" Fire filled her eyes as she stared vibrodaggers at Palpatine – "Traitors."

It was a disturbing speech to hear, consisting of information that pierced his heart. He had missed Ahsoka greatly since her disappearance, he loved her like a sister, and was so happy to see her again… yet her behaviour now horrified him. From the language she used, and the mindset she evinced, she was turning into something approaching a monster. A brainwashed fanatic, not unlike what he feared the Jedi would make his daughter.

He had to stop her from doing something irreparable. With a shudder, Skywalker forced himself out of his torpor: he rose to his feet and stepped between her and her quarry, arms extended. "Enough, Snips. I don't know anything about this Inquisitorius agency and what they do. But if you have evidence of treason, you have to bring it before a court of law."

"A trial?" She scoffed, and pointed a lightsaber hilt at Palpatine as he cowered in his chair. "No judge and jury will convict him. He controls the Senate and the courts; he's too dangerous to be left alive."

"Look at him, for kriff's sake! He doesn't control anything, he doesn't have power over anything but vegetables! The Ahsoka Tano I knew wouldn't kill a harmless old man."

"Are you thinking of another timeline?" she mocked. "A different me? An Ahsoka who wasn't framed for treason and murder by a fellow Jedi, expelled and abandoned by the Council? I saw through their duplicity, their hypocrisy. Turning their backs on me when it was convenient, 'welcoming' me back after my innocence was proven. A betrayal, typical of Mace and the others, which saying 'the Force works in mysterious ways' couldn't fix."

She referred to the mistreatment he too had thought about much in the intervening years with guilt and sorrow. It seemed the Togruta's experiences had radicalised her since her departure, filled her with resentment and anger, leading her down a path of darkness that he was not entirely unfamiliar with at his own lowest points.

"Yes… no… I mean- I don't know. You know I sympathize about how the Council wronged you, I was always on your side. They were petty to me too, letting me sit in without granting me the rank of Master yet. I was mad about it for a while, but we all have to endure injustices, or the mistakes our friends make, and let time heal the wound."

He rubbed his face at the irony in his words of conciliation, after his outburst at Kit Fisto and the Order earlier in the day. The passage of time had not healed his pain either. "Look, this isn't how we do things in the Republic. We have to follow the rule of law and the principles of beings' rights. You can't just kill a galactic citizen, whether you're a Jedi, an intelligence agent or a… an Inquisitor."

"You executed Count Dooku without trial. No one complained; you were celebrated."

"That was different! He was a declared enemy leader in wartime. This is in peacetime, with at best flimsy evidence. You can't assassinate the Chancellor!"

Her response chilled his blood. "Watch me," she said.

With that command, Tano touched the ignition button on her sabers simultaneously, holding them in a cross shape in front of her. Anakin's stomach sank at the sight. For the friend he thought he had regained, the little sister whose disappearance had racked his soul, the former Jedi of great promise whom he had trained… the two lightsabers he had gifted her, now shone with blood-red blades as the crystals fuelling them cried in pain.

As if in slow motion, he saw Ahsoka switch to her favoured backhanded grip, and wind up for a death blow with her right hand. Below her, Uncle Sheev was silhouetted against a yellow rug as he fell to the floor in terror, his legs ceasing to work in the attempt to get away. He was weak, he was helpless. It would be the work of a second to separate his head from his shoulders, a sai cha mark of contact serving as the means of execution of the man the Togruta, in her delusion, branded a traitor to the Republic.

Anakin ignited his own laser sword in a lightning-quick motion, and swung it across to protect Palpatine from the killer swipe. His blue blade locked with hers, in a colour contrast that reminded him of his clashes with Count Dooku. For he knew the idealistic fallen Jedi, the leader of the Separatists whom he had beheaded aboard the Invisible Hand high in the skies of Coruscant, was the real catalyst of the Clone Wars, not a shadowy figure named 'Darth Sidious'. Or, if anything, it was more logical for that pseudonym to have been used by the Count himself in the course of his machinations. As a Jedi Master, he had possessed great Force abilities and skill with the lightsaber. He had wielded great financial and political influence, in the guise of a wealthy aristocrat and ruler of Serenno. Surely, therefore, he was referring to himself, in the exchange with Obi-Wan, as the evil Sith Lord with his claws sunk into the Galactic Senate. It was obvious.

And Dooku's dead. I killed him. I destroyed the Sith, and brought balance to the Force.

Yet that reality did not sit well with Ahsoka. Why was she so obsessed, so insistent on pinning non-existent blame on the Chancellor? It seemed she was sent mad with anger and resentment, and drunk on the power she was afforded by the Inquisitorius department. Given he had not even heard of it, it sounded like an out-of-control black-ops operation accountable to no one, a shadowy threat to the liberty and justice promised to every citizen of the Galactic Republic. A phantom menace, hidden deep within the state apparatus.

"Please, Snips. I can't let you do this."

"Don't stand in the way of the Inquisitorius, Skywalker. If you're not with us, you're an enemy of the Republic."

"Only a fanatic deals in absolutes."

He choked back tears, as he realised what he must do. He had to subdue an insane, fallen Jedi, for her own good and to protect Palpatine. Perhaps by doing so, he could save her, bring his little sister back to the light. There had to still be good in her. He wanted it to be so.

"I'm asking you to stand down," he pleaded. "As your friend, your former Master-"

"When I left you I was but a Padawan learner. Now, I am the Master."

With that challenge, she lunged at him with her twin sabers.

He fended her off with wariness at first, for it had been years since they sparred. The former teacher remembered his pupil's tendencies, while recognising she was intelligent enough to lull him into a false sense of security. To follow her previous fighting style, only to unleash a new variation he was unprepared for when the time was right.

The stalemate was complicated by the knowledge that he needed to protect Palpatine, not just look after himself in a duel. Skywalker's movement was somewhat limited, as he could not leave too much of a pathway for her to attack her target. Something told him that Inquisitors were brainwashed enough to die in the service of their work, thus self-preservation would not trump murder.

"Your powers are weak, Skyguy," taunted she. "Give up and let me do my job."

"You shouldn't have come back. If this is what they've turned you into, I wish I could remember you as you were before."

"There it is, you still cling to the past. Mace always said you had attachment issues, never able to let go. Of your childhood, your mother, Padmé… and, I realized later, of me too."

"None of this is relevant!"

"Now you're hanging onto a false image of Palpatine: as your mentor, a kind fellow who took an interest in a troubled youngling, a wise father figure who held the galaxy together in its time of crisis. HoloNewsflash: all an illusion. You can't handle the reality."

"A reality from another timeline, possibly," he countered. "Or your version is an illusion. We live in a democracy, like I said: if you believe your story, take the evidence to a court of law and put it to the test."

In response she unleashed a new, devastating sequence of Jar'Kai, lightsabers pummelling him from all directions in almost incomprehensible vectors. It took every drop of focus he had to hold her off. Several times he realised he had escaped serious injury by nanoseconds, for her quickness and agility were superior to his. He felt encumbered by a suit of duracrete, weighing down his limbs despite the speed of his thought. It was as if the learner had indeed overtaken the master, in an inexorable cycle of growth and decay that would be repeated without cease as long as sentient beings existed, generation after generation.

Under the pressure of her attacks, Anakin found himself manoeuvred away from Palpatine where he cowered on the floor. The latter had, foolishly, crawled a few metres away from the perimeter the Jedi wanted to establish for his protection; the assassin's target lay below a long rectangular viewport that gave onto his gardens below, perhaps with a purpose of opening it to escape.

Skywalker's concern rippled in the Force, and his opponent picked up on it. She too noted the altered position of her quarry and smiled at the opening it afforded. Tano cartwheeled through the air, landing next to him with her laser swords at the ready.

"Now, old Palpatine, you will die."

"No!" shouted Anakin in desperation. "It's not the Jedi way!"

He called upon the Force for a last-ditch burst of speed. With its aid, he got there in time to block her sabers with his. They were in a precarious state, both fighters pushing against each other in an uneasy balance, just waiting to be broken to someone's advantage.

"He's to blame for all those senseless deaths in the Wars," muttered Ahsoka through the strain permeating her every muscle. "All the dead Jedi, all the dead Clones we fought alongside. He caused all our anguish and suffering. Including yours."

"I don't recognize you. This Inquisitorius has warped your mind!" snapped back Skywalker, almost touched by the hatred she emitted as it fizzled in the air between them. "What is it, who's in charge?"

She grinned, showing her teeth. "The blow to your head really did a job, didn't it? You have no idea."

"Answer me! Who set up the Inquisitorius?"

Ahsoka reduced her saber push by a tiny fraction as she answered. "You did."

With those two words, she pulled her weapons away from the shocked Jedi, causing him to stumble one step toward her. Going against his momentum, she hit him in the stomach with a Force-augmented kick, sending him flying across the room with a thud.

Freed of interference, she returned to her task. The tip of a saber floated ten centimetres from Palpatine's face, terrifying him with its crimson inevitability. All he could do was beg.

"Don't let her kill me, Anakin! Only I can save-"

Whatever he intended to utter was silenced by a blade plunging into his chest. The plasma sizzled upon contact, emitting a smell of cooked flesh as it was cauterised instantly. The human's shriek of agony was brief, as he went limp from the thrust to the heart and lay still. The beloved Senator and Chancellor's life energy was snuffed out, and returned to the cosmos too soon, after a mere seventy standard years.

From his prone position on the floor, Skywalker too went limp. There was no point fighting, now the man he wished to protect was no more. The galaxy's greatest Jedi had failed. He had not been able to save someone he cared about… again.

"What have you done, Snips? What have you done?" he could only moan.

The Togruta had no desire to continue the hostilities either. She deactivated her lightsabers with an exhale, her head slumping from the release of tension as she reattached them to her belt. Her work was complete, and did not require the destruction of Master Skywalker. She appreciated he had attempted to save Palpatine out of duty, and loyalty, however misguided, and so was not truly her enemy.

"Goodbye, Anakin. Maybe we'll meet again. In this timeline, or another."

And, without another sound, she was gone forever from his life.