***make sure you read chapter 8 first I'm posting it at the same time***
Disclaimer time! I couldn't find anything on how a Palpatine trial would have actually gone if somehow a situation like this had actually happened. But as I've said, the whole political structure of the Republic is clearly inspired by the good ol' U S of A, baby, and ofc we have lines like "the Senate will decide your fate" and "I am the Senate" which both seem pretty realistic in terms of US politics…long story short, I ended up basing the trial loosely on the recent impeachment trials, all the info I could find on wookieepedia, and of course a courtroom drama because I know nothing about the law lol. Because of how terribly futile a trial like this would have been given Palpatine's authoritarian control at this stage of the war, I inevitably ended up writing about salty I am re: the state my country is in and I regret none of it lmao. But I still really wanted to explore this situation so here we go.
1 more thing: per wookieepedia there's a theory that Tarkin may have been made Grand Moff as early as ROTS based on info from the tragically deleted Padmé scenes, so I went with that because we love (to hate) Tarkin in this house
The battle on Mustafar didn't last too long.
Honestly, the ease of the whole thing had actually been a pretty big surprise, if a pleasant one. Ahsoka — and the Council, she thought — had expected the Seppies to have fled by now, frightened away by the deaths of Grievous and Dooku, and the capture of their chief leader Darth Sidious.
But they hadn't fled. They'd been here the whole time, and the 501st hadn't managed to capture the entire list of Separatist Leaders that Ahsoka had been given, but they did manage to snag a few of the big ticket items. Wat Tambor, San Hill of the Banking Clan, and Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild were all in custody. Poggle the Lesser had escaped again, but they had who they really needed, who had slipped in and out of Republic clutches time and time again for most of Ahsoka's life: Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade Federation. Neimoidian who had tried to kill Padmé like, at least five times. Verified and confirmed collaborator with three separate Sith Lords.
To be honest, Ahsoka hadn't really been paying much attention to this whole trial thing. Yes, it was important, of course it was, and she wasn't completely ignorant of it all. Obi-Wan and Padmé had been keeping her up to speed whenever they met. But she hadn't been watching any of the depositions, hadn't been pouring through the evidence herself. In that arena, there was little she could do. And watching the holonet news, seeing analysts and anchors discussing what they thought about Palpatine, the thought of whom filled Ahsoka with visceral disgust after having heard Anakin talk about their relationship — it wasn't the most productive way she could be spending her time, was all.
But now, this would help the cause. At least, Obi-Wan and Padmé said it would. And they knew a lot better than Ahsoka did.
She supposed, as she headed back to Coruscant with Gunray while a detachment remained on Mustafar to comb through any information left behind, it was in the Senate's hands now.
Now she could focus on other things, like a certain conspiracy that Rex had mentioned….
And so it had begun.
Nearly two months of tiresome, thankless work was about to culminate into an event that would either make or break the Republic. That would either save it, or see it crumble. That would either convict Palpatine of all the things he had done wrong, or let him walk as a free man to go finish dismantling democracy once and for all.
Oh, and — he would also arrest or kill all of his dissenters if found not guilty, probably. That was a big thing to keep in mind.
Before Ahsoka had come to her that one night and revealed the truth about the Sith Master's identity, Padmé had never thought it would come this far. She had known there was danger, and she knew Palpatine was working to gain authoritarian control…but she had never thought when rallying help and drafting their petition that it might actually end in bloodshed. If it wasn't for everything that happened with Anakin, she still wouldn't know any better. But now she did. Now she knew exactly the depths of this man's treacherous evilness, including but not limited to sparking a war that would cost billions of lives, and preying on the sweetest little boy she had ever met.
And now it was time to stop him.
Padmé had been doing everything she could. Talking with senators, talking with those who might have influence over other senators. Forming a potential rebellion in the shadows. Submitting a deposition to the trial attorneys that included absolutely everything she could say about how far back Palpatine's deception and conspiracy went.
It was a long process that took place over a few days and culminated in her giving an on-camera reading of all her notes and statements. She talked about when the Trade Federation invaded her planet on the orders of Darth Sidious, and how he had sent his then-apprentice to make sure the job was done. She talked about fleeing from Naboo and coming to Coruscant, and how Palpatine had used her — and the situation that he had caused on their mutual homeworld — to get himself into office. How she had later been targeted by assassination attempts by Gunray, who was working for Dooku, who was working for Palpatine.
She talked about all of this, and then Tarkin made it clear he'd be making sure half of it was dismissed once the trial started.
Yes, Tarkin. That Tarkin. The one who had accused Ahsoka of treason and had nearly gotten her convicted in a trial that, coincidentally enough (it wasn't!), Palpatine had presided over.
Tarkin had been granted a new title, apparently. Grand Moff. The leader of Palpatine's new band of thugs — ahem, governors. Enforcers of the system set in place by his most recent series of emergency powers. The organization whose function was basically to render the Senate obsolete. And if the Senate failed to convict, well. Then his little plan will have worked.
And it might be heading in that direction. Everything Padmé said in her deposition about Darth Sidious's influence on the Trade Federation and Maul on Naboo thirteen years ago was claimed as inadmissible by Tarkin, as was anything that came from those lines of thought. Conjecture, he said. Unprovable extrapolation. There was no way, he said, to confirm that Palpatine was in any way involved in this conspiracy unless they could provide infallible evidence that Darth Sidious was the same man as Chancellor Palpatine, and that Palpatine and Nute Gunray had collaborated.
Great. Ahsoka was working on the Gunray situation, though, so maybe...
Padmé had been working closely with Obi-Wan, cross-referencing what he could tell her with what was going on in the Senate. The Loyalists were not working directly with the Jedi Council but there was some information passed between them. Obi-Wan told her about the legal team that the Jedi had formed, headed by a constitutional lawyer named Charr Kheli that had been working in the Republic court system for many years. All she knew was that the Jedi had grilled him extensively and found him to be a loyal Republic servant same as any of them, uncorrupted by greed as those in Palpatine's government were. Obi-Wan said the lawyer had been extensively studying the historical background of the Sith and the ancient laws of the Republic from back when the Sith were a known presence in the galaxy, and understood the implications behind someone such as this being in charge of the Republic.
Meanwhile Padmé held interviews, press conferences, some of which made it onto the holonet and some of which did not. Because the main holonetworks had been taken over by the government (Palpatine's government!) for military purposes. Because of course they had. But she did what she could, she informed the masses, she informed her peers, she talked to whomever she could talk to and spread the word as far as she was able. This man is evil, she said. This man does not care about the Republic, she said. If this man wins his trial then we will all be doomed, she said.
She got dismissals. Disapproving looks. She got people pulling her to the side, saying it was dangerous to speak out like this and she could be killed for it. That saying the things she was saying would put her life in danger. They said this, and every time she would calmly respond: The very fact that people were telling her that speaking out would get her killed simply proved that she needed to keep doing it. If they were trying to suppress her then she would simply have to be louder. If they tried to censor her then she would simply have to be more insistent.
Padmé had meant what she had told Obi-Wan, and the Loyalists. She lived for this Republic, and she would die for it, too.
Not that she wanted to, of course, but she had known from day one that there was a chance. But at the end of the day, if the worst did come, she was emotionally prepared for it. If it happened, then it happened. It would be worth it either way.
Her only main concern (besides not seeing her children grow up, which was…less than ideal) was, well…that whenever her life was in danger her husband tended to go a little crazy. To put it mildly. But Anakin was getting better, and she would simply have to trust that he would not once again be tempted to go on a murderous rampage if somehow he thought it meant saving her life.
And at least Obi-Wan was keeping an eye on him. That really did set her mind at ease.
Finally the trial started. It was being held in a massive Republic facility similar to the one from Ahsoka's trial. It was a Senate trial, rather than one in the Supreme Court like Nute Gunray had had, or a military one like Ahsoka's, and all that meant was that the Chief Justice of that very Supreme Court would be the one presiding as judge.
Ahem. Ahem. The Chief Justice that Palpatine had appointed to the position. Yeah. That one.
…This was going to be rough.
The stands of the room were filled with Senators and other representatives. The Jedi Council had their own private section close to the prosecuting team. Palpatine was here in person, and Padmé wasn't sure whether it was the first time he'd been outside of the Jedi Temple since his arrest or not. There was a buzz in the air as the spectators and jurors (made up of the senators themselves) milled about and waited for the farce to begin.
Oh, did she say farce? She meant…completely unbiased and objective trial led by people who definitely did not have an agenda at all.
Bail, Mon, she thought as she waited there. Get ready. We might need a rebellion after all.
First came the opening statements. The Jedi's chosen attorney went first, explaining to the senators their intentions to prove the Chancellor guilty of treason, collusion with Count Dooku, and conspiracy against the Republic. He went over the evidence they had (there wasn't much, Padmé had to admit) and a summary of current testimonials that the Senate would be hearing of, her own included. Opening statements were intended not to be argumentative, and as far as Padmé could tell he did an excellent job being objective and factual.
Tarkin went next, on behalf of Palpatine's defense team, essentially saying that the Jedi had no useful evidence that Palpatine was in fact a Sith Lord, nothing linking him to collaboration with Count Dooku, and a lack of compelling testimonials that would prove their side infallibly. Padmé supposed all of that was true — from what Obi-Wan told her they had swept Palpatine's offices, private residences, every place and every databank they could get their hands on and had found nothing at all. All things considered, it didn't exactly surprise her. It did little to set her mind at ease, though.
The trial proceeded, and Padmé spent many long, tiresome days in and out of the courtroom, the Senate offices, contentious meetings, and then back to the courtroom for more. Expert witnesses were brought in. Testimonials and depositions were showed. Her own was ripped apart by Tarkin for the same reasons he'd given her when she'd documented it all — that there was nothing, he said, linking Chancellor Palpatine to the mysterious Darth Sidious that the Jedi claimed him to be.
What did that matter? she thought cynically. After everything Palpatine had done, all his power grabs over the years, his changes to the Constitution, how could anyone be swayed by this? But they were. Oh, they were. During the trial she saw in her periphery nods, heard murmurs of agreement and whispers of debate. Her peers ate up everything Tarkin said, and none of what was offered by the prosecution. At night, she would turn on the news and watch their analyses, trying to see what was happening from the public's perspective, that she might know what they could do to improve.
But the truth was, this was mostly out of her hands. Not nearly for the first time, she was starting to feel more and more like a helpless onlooker as democracy failed before her. Like when the Military Creation Act had gone through, like when the banks had been deregulated, she could do little more than what she had already done: give her perspective of it all, explain why their actions were heading in the wrong direction, and watch her words fall upon deaf ears.
It was so frustrating. It was so disheartening. And it was starting to make her think that maybe the rebellion really was what they needed. Maybe Bail and Mon's instinct to call to arms was the correct one after all. Not that they had made the decision lightly themselves — on the contrary. Bail was from a pacifist world with no military. The last thing Mon could be described as was militant and violent. But if this was how the Republic was going to be — if this was how they wanted to be — then maybe it really was time. Maybe it really was too late for politics. Maybe years of fighting for peace really had been futile all along.
Padmé wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She did, occasionally, but only in her office. That was fine — she could blame it her postpartum hormones. Or the failing Republic. What did it really matter, anymore?
…Ack! Was this what she had been reduced to?
Was this what they had all been reduced to? Was this what Palpatine had reduced them to? Was this what she was becoming? Was this what was necessary in a galaxy so torn apart? Was this what her beloved Republic had become? And how much of it actually was Palpatine's fault? Did these people want a dictator? Because they certainly acted like they did.
Yet another day in court. Today it was Mace Windu, who was responsible for the arrest, giving his account. He informed the onlookers of how he had been told of Palpatine's status as Sith Lord by Anakin, and had then gone to apprehend the man with three other Jedi Masters, who had each in turn been murdered by Palpatine's lightsaber. He explained, with prompting from the prosecutor, why being a Sith Lord was relevant. What the implications were behind it. He explained Palpatine's relation to Dooku, and the Confederacy, and Grievous, as far as the Jedi were aware of the connections.
He also explained that the dark side of the Force was extremely strong in Palpatine, but as Padmé expected that was immediately ruled as inadmissible and the trial continued as if it hadn't been mentioned. Something about how the senators could not feel the Force, and neither could the court justice or the attorneys, so there was no way to prove it was true or even slightly relevant to their case.
Great.
Then it was Tarkin's turn to cross-examine. It went on for a little while — Tarkin dismissed Windu's referral of Darth Maul the way he had dismissed Padmé's account of the same Sith: on the grounds that since Maul refused to testify, there was nothing linking him specifically to Palpatine himself, as they had not yet determined that Palpatine and Sidious were in fact the same person. Tarkin went on, picking apart Windu's claims that Palpatine had been working with Dooku, and the lack of proven communiques between the two men. And then:
"Master Windu," Tarkin said, "Is it illegal to own a lightsaber if one is not a member of the Jedi Order?"
"No," Windu replied coolly.
"What about being able to use the Force? Is it illegal for a non-Jedi to practice using the Force, if they have the ability to do so?"
"No, it is not."
Tarkin stalked back and forth, hands held primly behind his back, nose pointed slightly skyward with an air of conceited authority. "No, it is not," he repeated. "And is it illegal to consider oneself a Sith Lord?"
"It is what the Sith have done that is illegal."
"The answer to my question, Master Jedi, is no," Tarkin said. "It is not illegal to be a Sith Lord, although there was one point in Republic history when it was. As I recall, the Anti-Sith Bill was deemed unconstitutional approximately three thousand years ago, as it interfered with the freedom of religion across the galaxy."
"As I have explained to the court," Windu said patiently, "It is the actions performed by the Sith that are the true crime. Chancellor Palpatine directly collaborated with Count Dooku, Nute Gunray, General Grievous—"
"So you insist, and yet I have seen no evidence proving that Chancellor Palpatine is in fact the Sith that you claim him to be. Without that connection, your arguments are entirely unsubstantiated."
"He murdered three Jedi Masters with the Force and a lightsaber during his arrest," Windu said, his voice expressionless, giving away nothing. "He confessed to being a Sith Lord to Jedi General Anakin Skywalker. He knew the location of General Grievous and the Separatist Council without revealing his source. Chancellor Palpatine is none other than the Sith Lord Darth Sidious. This is a fact."
"It is not," Tarkin said condescendingly. "Not if you can't prove it." He turned to address the senators. "The only thing I see from the deaths of your three Jedi Masters is that the Chancellor was trying to defend himself. If owning a lightsaber is not illegal, and using the Force is not illegal, then neither was it illegal for the Chancellor to defend his own life."
"The Sith Order has a commitment to amassing power for themselves. Chancellor Palpatine has been gaining power for himself, and has remained in office past the expiration of his terms, because he intends on continuing to gain power and using it to control the galaxy. That is why he worked with Count Dooku to start the Clone War."
"Your Honor, I would like that stricken from the record on the grounds of speculation." The Chief Justice nodded in approval. Tarkin continued, "Master Jedi, The Chancellor has done nothing that was not within his legal rights, as granted to him by the Senate in a time of war."
"That war is now over," Windu said coolly. "As I recall, Chancellor Palpatine vowed to return his emergency powers as soon as the Clone War reached its end. When he refused to do so, the Jedi Order was forced to take action in order to preserve democracy."
"The Jedi Order performed an illegal arrest," Tarkin said, looking around at the audience. "Every action performed by the Chancellor was a legal action, intended for the betterment of the Republic, and a secure society that could not be broken by the actions of the Separatist movement." He looked at Windu. "No further questions."
Padmé's head fell into her hand.
This was a losing fight. The only thing she thought might turn it around was Gunray, and that…that was a long shot. But they would find out soon enough, she supposed...
Anakin was pretty sure that by this point, he owed part of his soul to Jobal Naberrie.
She didn't have to be doing this. Neither he nor Padmé had explicitly asked her to stay with them this long, but she seemed genuinely happy — honestly, thrilled — to be doing it. Maybe that was normal for grandparents. Anakin didn't know, because he didn't have any. Well, maybe he did, but they were probably slaves somewhere in the Outer Rim. Point was, as far as he was concerned Jobal was as much of an angel as her youngest daughter, and that was saying something.
(By the way, he'd seen the angels of Iego, finally, and they hadn't compared to the radiance that was Padmé Amidala. So there.)
Anyway, he'd been having lunch with Jobal while Padmé was off at the thing that Anakin was very much trying not to think about, the thing that was on the holonet all the time, and it was really just…pleasant. It wasn't exactly like having a mom again, but it was honestly pretty close. It was like a bacta patch on the ever-bleeding wound that was his loss of Shmi. Jobal was a lot like her: brown hair and eyes, yes, but also exceedingly kind, patient, open-minded. So at the end of the day, while it wasn't the same thing, it was still…family. Just, a different one. He'd been welcomed with open arms into their family, and honestly he still kinda couldn't believe it, the way he couldn't believe a lot of things.
He wouldn't exactly say that therapy was helping, yet. But he could kinda, sort of see that it might lead there, at some point. It had only been a handful of sessions now, and it still made him a little nervous, but he liked Dr. Druyan well enough. She was another for the list of exceedingly kind, patient women in his life. Not to say that he wasn't used to that — most of the Jedi were exceedingly kind and patient, after all. So it was…comfortable. And it was getting a little less nerve-wracking by the session.
Life was a little…not great, still, though. Being away from war was completely jarring, and he still couldn't get used to just how quiet Coruscant was. The time he'd spent here since the Battle of Coruscant was barely a fraction of the time he'd spent at war…and he missed Rex, missed the 501st, but at least they were in Ahsoka's hands, now. He didn't have to worry that much, even though obviously he still did.
So…yeah. Life was…uh…life. Not great, but could be worse, but could also be a lot better. Maybe it was going to be. Maybe. If Padmé and Obi-Wan's work panned out, and the Senate actually decided something for once.
Unlikely, if you asked him, but. Not his problem anymore, right? Right? Please say he was right?
After lunch, he took care of the twins' needs, swaddled them up and put them down for a nap — Jobal said that having a consistent schedule was key to retaining his and Padmé's sanity — then he yawned hugely and figured that dad needed a nap, too, so he collapsed on the bed and his eyelids grew immensely heavy...
His mind began to drift off, swept away by fatigue, hoping to dream about Padmé on Naboo, frolicking in the field of wildflowers, curls cascading over her shoulders like the waterfalls off in the distance...
She was there…it didn't look like Naboo but she was there, and she looked…lost? Frightened. She was frightened to her core, and he realized after a moment that she was calling out for him, but he couldn't hear her voice. She was begging, begging for him to help, but help with what? The twins? Where were — where were they, Luke and Leia? Leia, Luke — where are you—
They started crying, but he couldn't find them. The sound of it was foreign, gut-wrenching. It wasn't like any cries he'd ever heard. It pierced him straight through his heart, and he didn't think he'd ever been so afraid. But he couldn't find them — but he had to, because something was going to happen — something was looming over them, the same feeling that loomed over every battlefield he'd ever been on, that same suffocating veil of death, he didn't know what was going to happen but he had to stop it, he had to or they were going to die, no no no no no—
Please no, let him help, please just grant him the ability to help for once in his life—
His eyes snapped open. He sat up. Anakin didn't know in that moment where he was, but it came to him quickly — the bassinet nearby, the blinds half-open on the windows, the Coruscant sun outside—
Oh. Yes. He knew.
Oh. Oh, wait, no. No, no, no.
Nightmares were normal for him, all things considered, but this wasn't a nightmare. This was — this came from the Force. This was a message for him, and only for him. This was another one of those. Another one of those.
No…
No…
He dropped his head in his hands, heaving giant, repeated breaths, suddenly aware of the sweat drenching his clothes. Then he looked up, still breathing raggedly, and he reached out. Reached out with all his senses, feeling the pure essences of his babies, alive and well…then further, across the permacrete plains of the Senate District he felt for her, a beacon of light poking out among all the haze of corruption and darkness around her as she went about her day, ignorant of what he had seen and what he had felt—
She was safe. He could feel it. Safe for now, as were the twins. It was okay. They were all okay.
But…they might not be for long.
Not if it came true this time.
It hadn't the last time, when he'd almost done what he'd almost done, but it had the time before that.
Anakin's eyes stung, and he let the tears fall without trying to stop them. Any shred of contentedness at the current state of his life shed from him like a bird molted its feathers.
It had felt…so real...
Please, he thought out into the Force, if it had any love for him left at all. Please, not this again, not now…not again...