Disclaimer: I still don't speak Scots Gaelic nor Irish Gaeilge aside from a few words ( I do know slightly more Gaeilge though), so if my translations are wrong then blame Google Translate, not me. I also don't own any character that is not my own creation, obviously. Wish I did though. Could use the kind of money Star Wars rakes in. At this point I'm just too lazy to get rid of this disclaimer so it's staying despite getting my point across by now.

Caibideil 19

Sidious rubbed his temples in frustration. "I'm surroubded by idiots," he muttered. Honestly, how hard was it for form an effective terrorist organization? He had the weapons, he had the base of operations, he had the billion fanatics, he had the money (at least, what accounts weren't frozen), he had everything he needed! Hell, he even had a cool flag! But he asks one guy to bomb a grocery store and fifteen people get arrested? And the seven deaths were all his own followers who just happened to be grocery shopping that day? How did that even happen?!

"Chancellor," the fangirl tried to explain, "Jek didn't properly scout the area first to make sure they weren't Loyalists. I can promise you it won't happen again!"

"This is going to be played on the Holonet for weeks," Palpatine mumbled, largely ignoring his imbecile lieutenant's constant excuses. "The Loyalist cause is going to relegated to a meme. A joke on a galactic scale!" Finally bothering to acknowledge the idiot's presence, he asked, "What was your name again?"

"Joseline Bombast."

"You're never going to get anywhere in this organization. Where you're at is the highest you'll ever go if you keep failing me. I hope you realize this."

"Yes, Your Excellency. We won't fail again!"

"Yes, yes you will," Sidious answered in defeat, laying his face on the grease-smeared desk. "You always fail me."

"Sir, we-"

"GET OUT!" Palpatine shouted, throwing a… something, at her. He honestly couldn't even be bothered to look at what it was. As she ran out the door, he flopped onto the floor and started crying. How had it have gone this wrong?! He was so close to finally realizing the Sith Grand Plan, so close to being the Sith'ari! Literally weeks away! Anakin was practically begging to become his apprentice, but no! That idiot Togruta decided to fiddle with his damned buttons! It was nothing but damned, blind luck that the Jedi were still alive! That he was hiding like a rat in a sewer, literally in a sewer! He couldn't even get off of Coruscant if he wanted to since every dockyard and shuttle system would instantly recognize his face. Even among the billion or so morons that had pledged their lives to Palpatine, what were the odds that not a single one would be Force-sensitive? Apparently 100%! He couldn't even find a placeholder apprentice to fulfill the Rule of Two. Granted Dooku running around still breathing did that, unless he took an apprentice for himself, and Sidious knew¸ he just knew he did. Didn't know who, didn't know how, but he knew that traitorous little rat had pretty much assumed him to be dead the second he flaunted his bathrobe to the Jedi Council. WHY?! Why had he come this close only to fail miserably?! Did the Dark Side have a sick, twisted sense of humor?! Probably, if he was being honest.

Joseline listened through the door to her beloved leader's tears and ramblings. She knew what she had to do. She had to prove herself! Yes, she would, uhm, she would. YES! She would assassinate the usurper! Of course! Thing is, an attack on that scale would require dozens, maybe even hundreds of operatives! Of course! Yes! She would haver spies follow her, memorize her routine, and finally spark an elaborate bombing that would take her out along with half the Senate! Granted the last bombing didn't kill her but they also wanted to keep the Galaxy's Grandpa safe so they couldn't do anything too big. But of course when the Usurper was out of the picture then Papa Palpatine could reclaim his office as the Galaxy's Dear Leader! Ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha!

Padmé sat in her chair, dictating her new bill to K3v1n. As much as Anakin's constant tinkering annoyed her, she had to admit that the squadron of reconstructed battle droids served their purpose well. Another droid, 5T3V3-N or "Steven" checked her womb where the twins were kicking madly. She tried to ignore it, tried to hold back tears from not being able to feel her own babies move inside her. 4D4M was vacuuming the office for her, his job was to obsessively keep every possible surface clean when he was not ordered to bathe her. 3PO slowly walked up to her, "Is there anything you wish for me to do Mistress Padmé?"

"If you could collect Senator Organa for me that would be great."

"Of course, Mistress! I'll collect him right away!"

"Mistress Padmé," L4-R5 beckoned, holding leftovers from the previous night, "It's time for your scheduled lunch."

"L4, I'm good, thanks."

"I insist," L4 replied, holding the fork up to her mouth.

"L4. I'm busy."

"Schedule." L4 insisted.

"I don't want to eat right now!" Padmé countered.

"Here comes the starfighter, open the hyperspace ring."

"Did Anakin seriously program you to treat me like a baby if I said 'no?'" Padmé asked, insulted, as L4 shoved the vegetables in her mouth.

"Yes."

"Ugh, fine, I'll stick to the stupid schedule! Can I get something to drink?"

"Of course Mistress!" L4-R5 replied with glee. She could swear that the droids became more and more neurotic as Anakin went along, likely mirroring his own mental processes.

L4 opened the mini fridge which kept the bottles of water, tea, and other nonalcoholic beverages and snack foods cool. Also inside was yet another of Anakin's mechanical monstrosities, a toaster with a single arm and was apparently in constant pain from the mismatched appliance parts haphazardly soldered together. "KILL ME!" the toaster demanded.

"Later," L4 replied bluntly, grabbing a fruity tea and slamming the fridge door on the poor, suicidal droid. At this point Padmé had become so desensitized to the random machines her metallic staff found that she wasn't even surprised by this exchange.

Bail entered the office as L4-R5 placed a steel straw in the bottle and held it up to her mouth. "You wanted to talk, Chancellor?"

"Yes!" Padmé replied as L4 went to put another bite of nerf in her mouth, "L4, I'm about to have a conversation, don't you dare."

"Yes Mistress."

"Those battle droids will always creep me out."

"Creep you out? I'm the one that has to live with them! Anyway, grab a drink and a seat. I've got some details I wanted to hammer out with you on the GAR Reformation bill.

Organa opened the fridge and promptly screamed like a schoolgirl when the suicidal toaster desperately asked to scrapped. "WHAT IS THAT?!"

"Another of Anakin's panic builds."

Sighing in irritation, 4D4M grabbed the toaster and flung it from the window, going to clean the refrigerator again after he did so.

"Thank you!" was the last thing they heard from the toaster.

"Anyway, I received an anonymous suggestion from a self-proclaimed former Jedi to open the ranks of the GAR to volunteers."

"I'm not sure if the former Separatist worlds would support increasing the size of the GAR."

"That will certainly be a problem, but surely it could be argued that having a volunteer military would help the employment and poverty rates of Mid and Outer Rim worlds."

"Well if we can manage to get this passed then it's a good thing our creditors are all dismantled."

"That certainly makes rebuilding easier, ruins our credibility to financial institutions in the short term though, no corporation in their right mind is willing to loan the government any money."

"Another problem with this bill." Bail acknowledged, "Not to mention the problems with exchanging the standard clone armor to something that could fit other species. Helmets for Twi'leks and Togrutas, four-armed body armor for Basilisks and Kaleesh, and just try convincing a Wookie to wear pants-"

"Uh, Mistress Padmé?" 5T3V3-N beckoned.

"Not now, Steven," Padmé replied, "All logistics we'll have to consider. It would increase the trust the people place in the Army, since soon enough the clones will be a minority. Speaking of which, have you heard the latest news about the de-chipping program's progress?"

"Yep. Last I read it was about 67% complete. Senator Chuchi was absolutely adamant about getting it passed. Pretty sure I heard her threatening a few people."

"Well, she is married to a Jedi," Padmé laughed, "So she probably wants to make sure her wife doesn't get randomly shot by a clone with a malfunctioning biochip."

"Mistress Padmé!" 5T3V3-N yelled, trying to get her attention.

"What?! What Steven? WHAT?!"

"Your water broke!"

"WHAT?!" Padmé shouted in fear, she wasn't ready yet! She wasn't scheduled to be induced until next week! The twins had to be born right now?! She wasn't even on the right planet since her OBGYN was on Naboo!

Bail stood and began to order the droids, "I'm parked two levels down, get her to my speeder!"

Anakin chuckled at Obi-Wan walking around inside wearing sunglasses. "Trying to be 'with it' old man?"

"Shut up, Anakin. You know I have to wear these, doctor's orders," Kenobi defended, "just tell me how Satine is doing."

Duchess Satine had been spirited away from Mandalore and was currently taking up residence in Anakin and Padmé's spare bedroom that was going to be made into the nursery. It took every milligram of self-restraint Anakin had, which was not much to begin with, to not laugh at the grown woman fifteen years his senior sleeping in the babies' room with shaaks and fish painted on the walls and clouds painted on the ceiling. Barriss had actually helped with that. He may have been a mechanical genius but also couldn't draw a straight line; she on the other hand was almost on par with the great painters of the Old Republic, which surprised a lot of people. Apparently, art was a favorite hobby of hers. "She's fine. Constantly asking about you, much like how you constantly ask about her."

"Good," Obi-Wan replied, leaning down to pat Angus, who had basically become Aayla's pet since Gràinne's kidnapping and apparent turn to the Dark Side. This sheep was scarily intelligent, considering he had somehow managed to figure out how to use an elevator. "I'll be sure to check in on her after the Council meeting." They opened the door to reveal almost every Jedi physically present except Master Ti who came via hologram.

"Master Ti," Windu said in irritation, they had been having this argument for months, "You can come back to the Temple at any point in time."

"Oh, I'm sorry, has the Sith Shrine suddenly stopped existing?" she argued, "No? Then I'm not going back there and you can't make me."

"Where even are you?" Windu insisted.

"None of your business!" Shaak replied.

"Shaak?" came an aged, feminine voice from off-hologram, "Who are you talking to?"

"Not now, Mom!" Master Ti answered between clenched teeth.

"You're with your parents?" Windu asked in annoyance.

"They're still alive?" Plo asked in surprise.

"Shut it Plo. I'm not that old."

"Oh! Is Plo your boyfriend?"

"MOM!" Shaak yelled at her, montrals near-black with embarrassment.

"Damn it woman, Jedi can't have boyfriends!" came another aged voice, masculine this time. Presumably Shaak Ti's father.

"Well what about that bigshot. I forget his name. Starkiller, something like that? He's got a wife and kids! When are you going to get married Shaak? Your father and I have been wanting grandkids and your brother isn't going to be having any in prison!"

"Um, Skywalker. My, my name is Skywalker," Anakin corrected. He did like the sound of "Starkiller" though. He might use that as a pseudonym one day.

"Oh! Is that him?" the elderly Togruta woman asked, popping into the hologram. She was as typical old woman as you could physically get. Barely over a meter tall it looked, eyeglasses the size of dinnerplates and at least 6 cm thick, flowered dress, wrinkled face no iron could flatten, and hobbling about with a walker. "You helped my brother's colony!"

"Wait, Kiros?" Anakin asked, amazed at such a coincidence.

"Yes!"

"Mom!" Shaak called, trying to steer the conversation back to Jedi business, "Can you please stop fangirling, you didn't even know his name two seconds ago!"

"No, no," Anakin insisted, waving his hand, "Please Mrs. Ti, continue fangirling at your leisure."

Shaak Ti finally lifted her face out of her hands and mouthed the words "I will kill you," at Anakin. Skywalker simply grinned ear to ear.

"As much as I'm enjoying this Mrs. Ti," Obi-Wan interrupted, "we really should have only your daughter on this call. Official Jedi business and all that."

"Okay," the old woman replied, hobbling away.

"Aww, and I was starting to enjoy having a fan," said Anakin.

"I never realized just how much I hate you, Anakin." Shaak retorted.

"Pardon my asking," Plo interjected, "but why is your brother in prison?"

"He… murdered… twenty-seven people," Shaak muttered in embarrassment.

"What?!" the Council asked in unison.

"I don't want to continue this conversation."

"Anyway," Windu began, "We need to address this issue. Master Ti isn't the only one afraid of returning to the Temple on Coruscant."

"And rightfully so," she mumbled, earning a grimace from the speaking Jedi Master.

"We need to finalize the decision to move central operations to Teth or remain in our shared home which we have retained for millennia."

"Why not destroy the Shrine?" Anakin asked, "Even if we move, we can't just leave it here!"

"One issue at a time."

Anakin stood in frustration at Windu's preferred pace, "That's the problem with this whole thing! 'One issue at a time' has left countless duties of the Jedi to be neglected!"

"Take a seat young Skywalker," Windu ordered. "We have been doing it this way for thousands of years. We will not allow this momentary split in the Order to change that."

"Perhaps we should take into account the exceedingly slow pace the Order is working at into account as to a reason for this Schism." Plo suggested.

"It is not a Schism," Kit Fisto corrected, "not yet."

"Not ever," Windu insisted.

"Any more deliberation, change minds, it will not." Yoda stated, "Vote now, we must."

"All in favor of staying?" Windu asked, raising his hand. Along with him were masters Kolar, Kcaj, Rancisis, and, reluctantly, Yoda.

"Moving?" Skywalker, Ti, Kenobi, Fisto, and Plo.

"Then we aren't moving if we can't reach a majority," Windu just barely smirked.

"No," Fisto countered, "we will be. Whether you come with us is your own choice."

"Are you threatening to tear this Order apart, Master Fisto?"

Kit sighed, "Yes, old friend. We have already discussed it at length. If you refuse to listen to reason, refuse to abandon a heart for the Dark Side, refuse to even consider long-overdue changes, then I and the other Reformists will gladly abandon your Order."

"I cannot allow that," Windu stood, reaching for his saber threateningly.

"Would you dare?" Plo suggested. "Duels within the Council chambers have been forbidden for over 4000 years. Surely you would know this."

"Master Windu, stand down, you will," Yoda ordered. He turned his head to face the Reformists, all standing and walking out the door, "Please, a Schism, avoided it must be. So much blood spilled, already has been."

"Master Yoda," Anakin replied, "There will only be bloodshed if Master Windu's Jedi refuse us the right to self-determination. We're still Jedi but we will relocate, we will reconsider the rules, and we will avoid political entanglements that got thousands of Jedi killed in the first place."

"Avoid political entanglements?" Kcaj mocked, "That's rich coming from the man who married the Chancellor!"

Anakin cringed slightly, Kcaj wasn't wrong. Yoda got up from his seat in the middle of the semicircle of chairs and hobbled towards the door.

"Master Yoda!" Oppo Rancisis exclaimed, "You can't consider leaving with these apostates!"

"Watch the Order be destroyed, I will not," Yoda replied, "Into exile, I will go. Hope, I do, that further violence, avoided can be." He walked away as the two opposing sides watched, pained looks on all of their faces at watching the Grand Master who had taught them all hobble to exile, choking back tears. "Failed, I have."

The Reformists across the Galaxy were notified to assemble at Teth, and any masters, knights, padawans, or even younglings who favored them were expelled by Windu's Orthodox Council. The Fifth Jedi Schism was now official.

Barriss had finally selected her Padawan, a human male by the name of Petro, and was practicing lightsaber forms when her commlink beeped. "Padawan," she said, still feeling weird but giddy as the word rolled off her tongue, "Rest for a moment." Petro gladly did so, as she had been having him go hard at his training since 0530 and it was currently 1400.

She answered the message, "Barriss Offee," Windu told her, "You are affiliated with the Jedi Reformists, who are deemed as heretics by the Jedi High Council. Unless you sever all ties to them, and divorce yourself from all attachment, you will be expelled from the Jedi Order." He put extra emphasis on the word "divorce" to clarify his obvious intention.

"Bye!" was all Barriss replied, stomping on her commlink in anger. Looking at the stunned Petro, she jabbed her thumb towards the hangar, "Come Padawan, we're leaving."

"But… I haven't been expelled," he stuttered before hearing his commlink beep. Coleman Kcaj appeared and told him, "Padawan Petro Fischer, you are associated with the Reformists-" he shut off the transmission and followed his new master. They were hardly the only ones.

Hundreds of Jedi on the Temple were just unilaterally expelled, and thousands across the wider galaxy: Council members, warriors, scholars, Temple guards . All were given the order from the Reformed Jedi Council to assemble on Teth. Anakin placed a hand on Fisto's shoulder and told him, "I just have a few things to clear up at home and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Take all the time you need Skywalker," Kit grinned, and added with a laugh "I'm sure Aayla is having a conniption fit right now that I'll have to deal with." Anakin, for one, was glad that Fisto had gotten the opportunity to rekindle an old flame.

Just then a single B1 battle droid can running up the steps of the, now Orthodox, Jedi Temple screaming. Some Jedi instinctively activated their lightsabers before realizing that it was only one unarmed droid.

"K3v1n?" Anakin called.

"Kevin?" Kit asked Anakin.

"He's one of my wife's medical helpers," Anakin explained.

"Padmé's water broke!" the droid screamed as he tripped up the last few steps.

Anakin's eyes went wide and his skin went deathly white.