Chapter 12: Reditum Venator

As soon as his shuttle landed, Vader charged down the boarding ramp and out onto the landing platform. The six squads of his 501st did likewise, marching from their shuttles to form up behind him. With no time to waste, he led them straight through the rows of troopers and up to the two clone commanders waiting to greet them.

"Lord Vader," the red and white troopers said. "Welcome back, sir."

Vader pulled his men to a stop and propped his gloved fists to his hips, splaying his midnight cloak wide. "Commander Fox, Commander Grey. Have your men secured the perimeter?"

"Yes, sir," Fox answered. "The building is secured and all access ways have been locked down tight."

"Good. And the checkpoints?"

Commander Grey gestured to Captain Styles and the other troopers stationed by the main entrance. "Positioned on every door, as per your orders, Lord Vader. We have instructed them to scan for facial recognition. No one is leaving without us knowing about it, sir."

Vader glanced to the doors, seeing the checkpoints for himself. In theory, three men on each should be enough. He turned back to the troopers. "Good work. That should be sufficient. Now, be ready commanders. If the Jedi tries to escape, arrest them, by whatever means necessary. Then have them transferred to my ship."

Fox pulled his blaster from his shoulder and got it ready. "Dead or alive?"

"I want them alive," Vader growled, jabbing his finger. "They may know where the remaining Jedi can be found."

"It will be done, my lord," Fox and Grey said, taking a step back.

"Good." With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his troops and left for the building, his black cloak swirling on the air, a sea of white and blue armour thundering behind him.

SENATE BUILDING: EMPEROR'S OFFICE

Caleb fought back a shiver, pulled his arms to his chest in an attempt to stay warm. He tried to strengthen his shields again, but they were slipping away, the constant effort proving too exhaustive to keep up.

Perhaps it wasn't so much maintaining his shields that was tiring, but more; fighting to ignore the persistent whisperings of danger; trying to overcome the paralysing fear of what could go wrong, should this already bad situation suddenly take a dramatic turn for the worse. So far, from what he could tell, the Emperor hadn't noticed the presence of two Jedi in his office. Or, if he had, he was too preoccupied in trying not to lose his cool with Senator Mon Mothma.

For as much as Bail Organa was working to diplomatically railroad Palpatine into a metaphorical political corner; Mon Mothma was instead trying a more direct, steam-roller approach.

And Palpatine wasn't having any of it. At first he had been delicate, chosen his words with purpose. All the while in-keeping with this façade of him being the kindly old Supreme Chancellor, who'd had to reluctantly declare himself Emperor in order to save the Republic. But with Mon Mothma's hidden glares and veiled accusations, that kindly old man charade was crumbling – fast.

Palpatine swung his chair back to the desk and leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "I caution you, Senator," he warned with a sneer, his robed head turning to address Mothma. "While I may be willing to listen to your grievances, others could see such accusations as being treasonous."

The situation was fast spiralling out of control and Caleb was battling to keep his nerves in check. He swayed in place; his senses suddenly thrown off balance. The Dark Side of the Force was throbbing; coming at them from every angle. He warily glanced to Ferus; who's expression seemed to mirror his own. An angry outburst from the Chandrilan Senator yanked him back to their conversation.

"Treasonous?" Mothma fired back, grabbing hold of both armrests and moving to stand. "How? Because I am concerned for the welfare—"

Organa laid his hand to rest on hers and quickly interjected. "Your Excellency, what I believe Senator Mon Mothma is trying to say, is that she, like all of us, is worried for her people. That there are those in the galaxy who are doing well under our current regime..." He looked to Mothma and nodded before continuing, "and those who are not. The military appears to be flourishing at the expense of the very people it was designed to protect."

Palpatine inclined his chin in silence, briefly exposing his disfigured face to the light. A flash of yellow defied the obscuring shadow of his hood for all but a second, but that brief glimpse was all Caleb needed. On instinct he reached for his lightsaber, his fingers grazing the metallic hilt concealed within the folds of his grey overthrow.

"Yes... yes, Senator," Palpatine said dismissively, "I understand. But unfortunately, some sacrifices need to be made in the name of peace."

"But what is peace without rights?" Organa pressed, waving his hand to the window. "How many sacrifices need to be made?"

Hand frozen by his belt, Caleb choked on his breath; the Alderaanian Viceroy's words inaudible over the sudden pounding in his head. The room darkened and started to spin. As if he'd slipped through the floor and was now stuck in free fall.

Free falling and ... cold.

Very, very cold.

Standing in the antechamber of his Master's office, Vader listened to the voices coming from inside, his senses stretched out with the Force. Two light side signatures shone from within, one barely visible – as though being shielded – and the other gleaming like a tracking beacon. It appeared there were in-fact two Jedi and not one as he'd previously suspected. Even better. He tightened his gloved fingers around the hilt of his lightsaber attached to his belt. As much as he longed for a decent confrontation, the presence of three others inside made him pause.

"Treasonous?" a woman's voice trilled.

Senator Mon Mothma. He recognised her voice from the many times Padmè had interacted with her during the days of the Republic. An avid spokesperson for the loyalist committee, and like Padmè, openly adverse to the military creation act. He quickly tuned back into the conversation as an all too familiar – and highly irritating – male voice cut Mothma off.

"Your Excellency, what I believe senator Mon Mothma is trying to say..."

Vader clamped his jaw tight. Organa, he inwardly cursed, barely containing his simmering fury at the man who had helped to steal his children away from him. What he would give to be allowed to squeeze that conniving, traitorous Alderaanian's neck... to watch his deceitful eyes bulge under the pressure... his hands futilely scrape at his throat as he gasped for breath...

Perhaps, one day. When his master no longer had need of him. Then — he smirked at the thought — then, he would be waiting.

Waiting. Force, he hated waiting. It seemed he was always waiting for something. Or someone. Just like now. But, with the two senators in there, he knew he needed to wait for the right moment. It's just that he'd never been very good at it.

Something brushed against his mind, stopping his thoughts dead. A cold, probing sensation scratching around the edges of his subconscious. He recognised it immediately. His master, now alerted to his presence, was seeking him out. He sent an acknowledging nudge back along their bond and once again focused on the conversation.

"Yes... yes, Senator," he heard his master say, his tone stiff bordering acidic. "I understand. But unfortunately, some sacrifices need to be made in the name of peace."

He had clearly grown tired of the meeting. Good. That meant it was now time for Vader to move in and end it. He straightened his cloak and strode for the door.

"How many sacrifices need to be made?" Organa asked, as Vader walked between the two parallel office waiting lounges. "How long before the garrisons are removed and our systems can go back to some degree of normalcy?"

"The local garrisons are not going anywhere," Vader stated, announcing his presence to the group. "They have been deployed to strengthen and unify all planetside armed forces." His augmented voice boomed through the mask's annunciator, causing the five visitors' heads to snap toward him in shock. Striding between the two half-moon lamps, pillared atop the low-walls preceding the circular main office floor, he took the left-most raised walkway and headed straight for his master.

"Ah..." Palpatine said, leaning back in his chair. "You'll have to excuse Lord Vader; he is quite the militant. A tactical genius on the battlefield, but rather inept when it comes to the subtleties of politics and diplomacy."

Ignoring the comment, Vader walked past the obsidian desk and took his place, just behind and slightly to the left of his Master's side. He crossed his black synth-leather clad arms and stood tall, allowing the continuous rasp of his respirator to dominate the room.

"I understand the Empire's need for unity, Lord Vader," Organa said, narrowing his eyes, his defiant glare masking the surge of fear echoing from him in the Force. "But Alderaan has always been a system of peace. We have no armed forces to unify. The only thing your garrison is doing, is making the people more nervous."

Behind the mask, Vader rolled his eyes. What a lie that was. He'd seen the undisclosed accumulation of starfighters in that mountain-side hangar through the Exactor's scanners himself. Grinding his teeth, he battled the temptation to call the man out on the lie, right here and now, right before his emperor.

"All the more reason for your system to be better protected, Viceroy," Vader growled lowly. "Besides..." he continued, inclining his mask toward the two poorly disguised Jedi stood at the rear. "Going by the two recent additions to your Senatorial Guard ... it would appear you hold no such reservations, when seeking to reinforce your own personal security."

"My ... personal security?" Organa asked, glancing over his shoulder. His expression turned bleak.

Vader smirked. Good. The insufferable man understood his intended double-meaning. The two Jedi lifted their heads, their fear palpable in the Force. And for the first time since he'd stepped foot inside his master's office, he was able to successfully make out their faces.

His smirk stretched into a feral sneer. It was them! Olin and Dume; the same two Jedi he'd hunted down on Naboo. He unfolded his arms and reached for his lightsaber.

A vice-like pressure suddenly seized hold of his mind. It suffocated his senses and turned his body to stone. At the exact same moment, his master slammed his fist on the desk, hissing through their bond.

"Not in here you don't. Not in my senate!"

Vader instantly recoiled. Then, pulled his hand back and lowered his masked eyes to the floor.

Before his master could say another word, a melodic chime rang from his desk and a small blue hologram of Mas Amedda rezzed into life. "Yes, grand vizier, what is it?" Palpatine snapped, impatiently rapping his fingers on the obsidian surface.

"My Lord, there appears to be an issue coming from the landing platforms," Amedda stated.

"Really?" he asked, briefly glancing to Vader. He turned back to the holo. "What type of issue?"

"I am fielding numerous complaints from the senators," Amedda continued. "It seems all of the building's exits have been sealed off, and the dignitaries are being subjected to identification checks and travel verification, my Lord."

"Is that so?" Palpatine again looked to Vader.

"Were you aware of such liberty breaches being implemented?"

"No, vizier. I was not," he said pointedly. "As for the senators, inform them that I am now aware of the situation ... and that I will be dealing with it personally."

Vader slumped his shoulders. He knew all too well what that meant.

"As you wish, your Excellency."

When the hologram rezzed out, his master sat silent, methodically tapping his fingers on the desk, before eventually turning his attention back to the senators. He let out a false sigh. "It looks as though, we shall have to reconvene at a later date."

Bail Organa rose from his seat and nodded. "I agree. On behalf of the people of Alderaan and Chandrila, I would like to thank you, Emperor, for taking time out of your busy schedule to discuss this matter."

"Yes... yes, Senator Organa, Senator Mon Mothma," his master said, rising from his chair. "And I thank you, for bringing it to my attention." He turned to face the cityscape and waved his hand dismissively. "I trust you can all manage to see yourselves out."

Vader watched the group – Jedi included – head for the exit and squeezed his fists tight. At least they weren't going to get too far, not with his troopers stationed on every door. When they were out of earshot, he spun to stare at his Master's back by the window. "You are letting them leave?"

"Contact your commanders," Sidious snarled. "Tell them, they are dismissed."

"What? But ... the two Jedi?"

He whirled from the window, his yellow eyes burning beneath the hood like a pair of flaming torches. "I said, dismiss them!"

Vader bit his tongue. "As you wish." Lifting his wrist, he punched in the secure frequency to his men on the platform.

"Lord Vader," Commander Fox answered. "We have scanned every visitor that has gone to leave. No Jedi as yet, sir."

"Commander, instruct all units to stand down and return to base."

"But, my Lord... you said—"

Vader quickly cut in before he could finish. "By orders of the Emperor, Commander."

Fox seemed to have gotten the message. "Oh... right. Understood, my Lord. It will be done."

He closed off the call and looked to Sidious, who had gone back to staring out the window. But Vader knew his master better than that. He was never simply gazing out over the city. He was planning, plotting, scheming, the view; merely a muse.

Vader stood listless; his arms hung limp at his sides. "I don't understand, master."

Sidious sighed, shaking his robed head. "No ... no, of course you don't." He spun around, anger tempered for the moment, and crossed the short distance between them. He grabbed him by the arm. "Come, my boy... escort me to the palace. We have a great deal of catching up to do."

Vader, respirator hissing, looked to the gnarled fingers wrapped tight around his arm, then to the wrinkly, pasty grey face half covered in shadow.

The palace.

One of the only places Darth Sidious could freely unleash his true identity and power, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public. He obediently lowered his head in submission. There was no point in fighting it. "Yes... my master."

Bail and Mon Mothma wasted no time in leaving the Emperor's office. Fighting the urge to run, Caleb stayed close to his master, huddled behind the two senators and Captain Antilles as they hurried down the winding corridors for the grand staircase. White and blue armoured clone troopers were everywhere: patrolling the walkways, guarding the doors, stopping beings at random and demanding their identification.

"Keep your head down," Ferus whispered. "If the 501st see us, we're done for."

Caleb nervously tugged his overthrow back up. "How are we going to get past the checkpoints? That Amedda guy said the doors were blockaded."

"We'll deal with that when we get there. Right now, I'm more concerned with Vader coming after us."

They rounded the last bend and stopped at the top of the stairs. The grand foyer was littered with dozens more troopers. Every door was covered, with lines of dignitaries queuing to leave. Amongst the crowd, the blue horned Chagrian vizier was engaged in debate with a bulbous Twi-lek and two other humans. It was utter chaos.

"How are we going to slip through that?" Caleb asked Ferus as he moved in to stand alongside him.

"Sometimes chaos can be as helpful, as it is hindering," Ferus said cryptically. He turned to Bail. "What do you think, Senator Organa?"

Bail stroked his chin. "We join the queue. I don't see any other alternative. Unless you can do one of those Jedi mind tricks on all of them."

Ferus shook his head. "No, there's far too many of them for that. Besides, I'm not overly proficient in it. I was still only learning when I left the order."

"Well, we're not doing ourselves any favours by standing out here in the open," Mon Mothma said, moving forward. "Come on. We may as well join the queues. Perhaps a more desirable opportunity will present itself in the meantime."

Caleb glanced over his shoulder as the others started down the stairs. Still no sign of Vader. He'd half expected the Sith Lord to be hot on their heels by now, chasing them through the Senate building with his crimson lightsaber in hand. But nothing, just swarms of clone troopers patrolling and controlling the crowd. Even the Force had gone silent. It was strange.

He turned and caught up to the others, making short work of the stretch of carpeted stairs separating them. A few more steps and they reached the landing, attaching themselves to the back of the main queue; the two Senators pulling both him and Ferus inside, while Captain Antilles covered the rear.

A pair of troopers, identifiable from their blue markings as being of the 501st, marched past. They stopped just ahead of their position, blasters at the ready. Caleb lowered his eyes and shuffled forward with the rest of the crowd. He elbowed Ferus. "So, any ideas?"

"No, not yet," Ferus said, turning to him. "What about you?"

Caleb shrugged as they both, again, shuffled forward. "You mean ... other than trying to fight our way out?"

"Preferably." His master sighed, stared at the gilded robes of the senator stood in front. "I don't know about you ... but I hadn't really planned on dying today."

It was his way of trying to lessen the tension, but Caleb wasn't in the mood.

The crowd shuffled forward again. They were directly in line with the two troopers now. Another two marched up the other side; stopped directly opposite. They were surrounded. And they couldn't turn back for the stairs, that exit too was blocked; not by clones, but by other visitors queuing to leave.

On the upside, they were getting closer to the doors. There were only about five groups standing between them and the checkpoint, so if nothing else, it would at least be over soon. But the question remained – how were they going to get past the blockade?

A commotion sounded from up ahead. Then, the pairs of troopers both left and right of the line broke away, marching for the doors. More of them followed from all around the foyer, filing through the amassed senators toward the exit.

"What's going on?" Caleb asked, looking up, trying to see through the sea of bodies blocking his vision. "I can't see a thing from here."

"I'm not sure," Ferus whispered. "But it looks like the clones are leaving."

"Leaving?" He tried to see again, peering left and right, looking through the tiny gaps between the senators in front. He turned back to Ferus as the crowd tightened together, started to push forward. "Where do you think they're going?"

"Who knows," he said shuffling closer. "But we're not waiting around to find out. Stay on my side, when we reach the doors we'll need to move quickly if we are to avoid their attention."

"Yes, master."

Shoved and pushed, suffocatingly crushed between the horde of agitated bodies pressing forward, Caleb stuck to his master's side, anxiously following the others as they made their way through the exit. The instant they were out, the crowd dispersed, breaking off in all directions and heading for their transports.

He looked to the platform. In the clearing, docked straight ahead, three white Imperial Lambdas were being loaded, each with a row of troopers steadily marching up the boarding ramps. Only the 501st though – a brief look over the lines revealed none of the telling red markings of either Commander Grey or Captain Styles. They had seemingly vanished. And the others really were leaving. Not just leaving the grand foyer – but the senate building altogether. Meaning, Vader probably wasn't too far behind them.

"Caleb, come on!" Ferus called standing alongside Bail, Mothma and Antilles. They had all been separated during the rush. Apparently, he'd managed to find them again. He pulled his eyes from the Lambdas and hurried over.

When they'd safely made it inside their transport, Caleb collapsed into one of the passenger seats and tried to steady himself. Ferus silently dropped in beside him, while the two Senators moved to the front. As soon as they were seated, Captain Antilles started the engines and pulled away.

Staring out the window, Caleb watched as the platform slowly slipped from view, giving way to the bustling traffic clogging the skylanes. He took a deep breath and slumped back. "Well, I guess that answers one of our questions."

Ferus turned to him with his brow cocked in question. "Oh? Which question is that?"

Caleb turned back to the window. "We know where Darth Vader is, now."

"Yes, Caleb. But unfortunately, he also knows where we are."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Sorry these chapters are taking so long to publish; I promise I haven't abandoned the story. There are a lot of events that occur in a very short space of time and I am working hard to ensure the story's continuity stays on track. Who knew trilogies were so challenging to write? XD

Thank you so much for your reviews/follows/favourites they are amazing and inspirational, please keep them coming.

Next chapter: we're off to the palace for the long-awaited Sidious/Vader reunion.