Reposted 9-12-05: Thank you, LZfOx1379, for telling me that there was a grammar mistake in this chapter. I did find something, but since you didn't specify particularly what the mistake was, I'm not sure if it's what you were talking about or something else entirely. XD So I apologize if I didn't catch the mistake you mentioned, but hey, I found and fixed a mistake, if not all of them. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. That right belongs to George Lucas. It should be noted that some things are borrowed from Greg Bear and Jude Watson, both who write EU (Extended Universe) Star Wars books.

Writer's Block: Raspberry Heaven by Falaphesian. This is PG-13, a Kingdom Hearts fic (an awesome PS2 game which I have beaten -does a happy dance-) and involves shojo-ai (otherwise known as fem-slash). There's also a tad bit of shonen-ai (slash), but the main story revolves around the shojo-ai. I thought I'd suggest a shojo-ai story here for a change in pace. Even if you're never read a fic like this before, I highly suggest you to at least try this one. There's some great character development in here, and I love Falaphesian's constant reference to music. It adds a nice touch to everything.

Well, the last chapter moved the plot along. I tried to do that without making it boring, and I hoped it worked. You know, the last chapter wasn't really meant to be anything big—just showing you how Obi-Wan used the reek attack to his advantage to get close to Anakin—but somehow I managed to accidentally introduce a new character and a subplot. I love it when creative accidents like that happen.

Oh yeah, Tarren and Darrien are creations of moi. I hope the original characters didn't scare anyone off…I try to use real characters when possible, but honestly…all the younglings were killed when Anakin stormed the Temple. So I had to create my own. Nyah.

Everyone who reviewed, thank you so much! Hugs for all of you! I love reading about what you think about the chapter—just how you view the characters, what you think about the plot. Honestly, sometimes you understand better what I'm trying to express in my writing than what I do myself. A few names have already started to pop up consistently (you know who you are. ;) A special thanks for you guys!), and I hope you continue to enjoy the story. For the new readers, I hope you find this story interesting.

Thanks again for the reviews: you make my day. If you find any mistakes, please tell me. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Page Amount: 6

Word Count: 5,493

Started 7-6-05, written on 7-10, and finished 7-11-05

Listening to: Breaking Benjamin: We Are Not Alone

Written by Ice Dragon3

Jedi Genocide

Chapter Five: Repression

Anakin entered the former Galactic Republic building, determination and anger building up inside of him. His stony gaze warned those around him that he was not in the mood to humor idiotic requests or greetings. The glare was intense enough that even acquaintances—he would never call them friends—veered away intentionally to give him a wide berth. Even though he wanted this response from them, practically demanding it with his hostile attitude, he still sneered inwardly at their cowardly actions. Normally, he would savor this feeling of power, given to him by the treatment he received and the fear he felt. But he knew that today, with the mood he was in, nothing any of these lowlifes did would be good enough. If they talked to him they were stupid—not brave; if they did the opposite and ignored him they were spineless—not wise.

Aggravation rolled off him in waves, and every imbecile that timidly tiptoed around him just made his irritation worsen. Which furthered their timidity, which only furthered his anger even more. He knew that he was working himself up, but even the knowledge of this did nothing to stop the action.

He stepped into an empty elevator, and it remained empty—no one dared to disturb him. He and Palpatine—Anakin's lips curled into a slight snarl at that name, the word instantly connected to the feeling 'hate'—were the holders of power here, and people knew that. While the Galactic Senate remained intact (renamed the Imperial Senate) it had no power. The true purpose of the Imperial Senate was to have representatives from every planet in the galaxy on Coruscant. Not only did it remind the planets that the Empire had control over them, but it made it easier to keep an eye on even the Outer Rim systems. A rebellion would be hard to foster if their representatives on Coruscant could be 'persuaded' to betray their friends.

The elevator came to a stop on the top floor and Anakin stalked towards Chancellor Palpatine's red room. He walked so fast that the air stirred around him, causing his black robe to billow out behind him. He made an imposing, dark figure.

There were guards posted outside of Palpatine's doors, but they didn't stir even as he neared the room with obvious intent to enter. Instead of stopping him, quite the opposite happened; they respectfully nodded their heads toward him in acknowledgement before acting as if he were invisible, allowing him entry though they had been instructed otherwise. Anakin barged into the room boldly, coming to a halt right in front of Palpatine's desk. His robe gave one last flutter before coiling around his feet, the movement and wind gone.

Chancellor Palpatine was sitting in his red velvet chair, talking softly with his two main advisors, Janus Greejatus and Sim Aloo. Anakin's disrespectful arrival had been unexpected, and the conversation abruptly ceased. One to always take control of the situation and deal with the unexpected calmly, Palpatine dismissed his advisors with a casual wave of his hand. They left quickly, like silent wraiths with their somber expressions and dark robes.

Leaning forward in his chair while lacing his hands together, he asked Anakin coolly, "May I ask the meaning of this interruption, Lord Vader?" The slight surprise that had accompanied Anakin's barging in was gone, replaced by a layer of infinite calm and thoughtfulness.

The act nearly tricked Anakin, and for a moment he wondered if he had imagined the brief astonishment in Palpatine's eyes. He angrily reined in such self-doubts. He was not going to fall for Palpatine's mind games.

"You know very well why I'm here," Anakin hissed out. He stood stiff and straight, towering over Palpatine's desk and sitting form.

"I'm afraid I don't, Lord Vader. But if you were to elaborate…" He waved one hand elegantly, demonstrating that he wished Anakin to explain. The single, tasteful ring on his right hand glinted in the rays issuing from the ceiling lights. The white gold ring had been a gift from the Senate to the Chancellor, to commemorate the birth of the Empire. The Chancellor had accepted the gift graciously, modestly protesting that the Senate deserved this more than him; but later on Anakin had glimpsed him examining his ring, chuckling good-humoredly at a joke privy only to him. The Chancellor's white hair matched his ring's color, as did his pale skin, as did his colorless eyes. Everything about him seemed washed out, even his humanity. The only color remaining was the crimson of his robes.

The calm, concerned expression never left his lined face, like a well-placed mask.

Anakin stared at him for a moment, gritting his teeth. He should have known that Palpatine would handle this situation as he did all others—with false innocence, curiosity, and concern. "Ever the diplomat, aren't you, Chancellor Palpatine? Why do you keep that ridiculous title, 'Chancellor'? It is obvious to see that you have no dealings with justice."

"I'm surprised and disappointed with you, Lord Vader," Palpatine said in a condescending voice, as if cajoling a small child. "I keep the title Chancellor because I have no need to create another official one—I have too many unofficial names as it is. Besides, the Imperial Senate is used to thinking of me as 'the Chancellor,' and I wouldn't want to upset their opinion of me by altering my title."

"Such a kind way to say that you don't want to disillusion your weak-minded followers." Anakin gave a stiff smile that was more teeth than friendliness. "Even though one could say that your attempts are in vain. Behind closed doors all the whispers already call you 'Emperor.' "

Palpatine didn't respond; there was no need to. Instead, he averted the conversation from that direction. "Now, what concerns have brought you here to my humble office?" Palpatine gazed at Anakin in a way that was both intent and mild. A disconcerting mixture meant to confuse and agitate; to make the truth fall from bumbling lips before the mind even realized.

"You and I both know why I'm here. You couldn't have forgotten already, having issued the order yourself so recently. Today, in fact."

"I don't understand your anger, Lord Vader: there are many orders I issue everyday. I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific for me to understand why this has provoked such rage in you."

"The order I'm talking about is an assassination." Anakin's eyes honed hawk-like on Palpatine, searching for a reaction or weakness.

"You misunderstand the workings of the Galactic Empire, my apprentice," Palpatine said smoothly. "Force is only used against those who compromise the safety of this fair galaxy, and it is done legally and rightfully in the name of justice. I'm sure that you're aware that no bills have been passed saying assassinations are lawful." Palpatine smiled slightly at his own joke, still treating the conversation as if it were light and trivial—an action that grated on Anakin's nerves. "It would certainly set a bad example if the Empire was to condone to these barbaric actions, since we are the ones trying to eliminate them."

Palpatine straightened in his chair until he sat at his full height. Resting his two hands on the arms of his chair, Palpatine said in a more serious voice, "But to ease your anxiety and execute the duties required of the Empire, I will have someone look into this matter if you so wish."

Palpatine's gnarled hand was already straying towards the comlink on his desk when Anakin stopped him with his forceful words. "So are you telling me that some of your clone troopers are beyond your control? Should the Galactic Empire fear for another rebellion of mass proportions? If you cannot handle the clone army, perhaps a new Chancellor should be nominated—one more fit to lead. The last time something similar to this happened, you yourself suggested for the Chancellor to be replaced by someone more capable of handling the situation. It would seem improper of you to protest against your own former suggestion when it is applied to almost the exact same scenario. One would expect you to…step down with some class."

"I don't see how you can assume that a clone trooper was the one to attack you. The clone troopers remain loyal to the Galactic Empire and to me."

Sneering, Anakin retorted, "Then you must have issued the order yourself, if your lapdogs are as faithful as you say."

Unruffled as ever, Palpatine asked mildly, "What proof do you have to assume it was a clone trooper?"

"The scorch marks from the blaster were of similar color, pattern, and size of that created by a DC-15…the standard clone trooper gun. The lack of tact was another obvious sign that this was the work of a clone. They aren't exactly used to assassination orders, now are they? Normally subtly is the last thing on their mind and brute force the first. But they would be the best option for a task like this. They never question a command. Easily removed and replaced, too."

"Perhaps in your distress you misread the scorch marks. Appearance alone is not a very reliable way to figure out the type of blaster used—it's not very solid evidence at all to base your whole speculation on. And if it was a clone gun, perhaps the assassin killed a clone and took his weapon, intending to use it for the purpose of creating dissension—as it seems to have worked. It's not uncommon for the depraved to pilfer from a dead body. Have you checked the surveillance cameras for any suspicious characters? If you are trying to mount an investigation, that is the first thing you should have done."

Anakin clenched his fists, folding them behind his back to hide them underneath his robe so Palpatine couldn't see his twitching fingers. He was furious with Palpatine: the Chancellor easily sidestepped every accusation of his, twisting all of his words around and treating him like a child. Palpatine had the gall to handle him as one would a simpleton. And then the false sympathy and helpfulness, which barely concealed the hidden jabs and insults buried underneath every word…

Realization dawned on Anakin: he was going about this the wrong way. He had to keep his voice level and his face calm, to feign civil conversation. Two could play this game. Sneering inwardly but keeping his outer appearance composed, Anakin said smoothly, "I'm sure that the assassin would be too intelligent to be caught on camera—I'm betting he has friends to help make sure of that. So while I thank you for the consideration, I decline your offer." Any information Palpatine gave him would be altered, with the evidence he needed wiped clean from the data-disk. And any clues that would be on it would be false ones meant to lead him in the wrong direction.

Palpatine stared at Anakin for a moment, and Anakin's inner demon was gleeful to see a noticeable spark of suspicion flicker in Palpatine's eyes for a second. But the Chancellor's surprise was short-lived, and the mask donned once again. Anakin's abrupt change of attitude had thrown the man off, he was certain. He could just imagine the thoughts running through the Chancellor's brain—did Palpatine worry that he had, by some unconscious action or word, accidentally revealed something to Anakin? Was he worried?

He should be.

"Indeed, that could be the case…" Palpatine consented slowly. "Although if your notion of the assassin being some degenerate—or as you put it, 'lacking tact'—is correct, perhaps it shouldn't be assumed that they have influential people backing them. Perhaps it was simply the actions of an over-enthusiastic protester of your new teaching laws. He or she might have simply been trying to make clear their opinion on your education stance, and unintentionally gone over the top."

"But I must disagree, Chancellor, since the attempt wasn't aimed at me. I doubt an unemployed, disgruntle teacher would have any reason to attack Obi-Wan Kenobi, since he is a teacher himself. I think the motives of the attacker—or the attacker's hirer—run a little deeper than that." Anakin leaned forward on the desk, his posture friendly, as if the reason for his nearer presence was to more easily confide in Palpatine.

The true motivation of his action was intimidation.

Palpatine, an air of mild interest surrounding him, deliberately ignored Anakin's blatant bully tactics. Instead, he stared Anakin straight in the eye. "Indeed, the motives might run deeper."

Anakin shifted his gaze away for a few seconds, unsure of how to answer. He had not expected Palpatine to act that way. Express concern, yes, maybe cast his eyes around the room guiltily, yes. But to almost admit to doing the deed? No. It was as if he were taunting Anakin, dangling a shadow of the truth on an invisible string. Palpatine was trying to play mind games with him again. The Chancellor had been doing that since the first time they'd met, and Anakin was getting sick of it.

Without him controlling it, he felt the Force sleepily gathering in his fingers, making them twitch. His anger was rising again, waking up from the dark place where it resided in his soul. He almost lost his self-discipline, but checked himself just in time. Not trusting himself to speak at the moment, Anakin merely nodded his head in agreement with the Chancellor's statement.

Anakin reminded himself to play the game, to remain composed. If Palpatine was baiting him, it was because he was worried… Palpatine's own tactics were working against him, their boldness revealing to Anakin just how pressed his Master felt. He had to bide his time, and wait for the right moment to strike. One misstep could be fatal; he had to be careful of where he treaded and when.

"Speaking of Knight Kenobi…" Palpatine went on to say when Anakin remained silent. "I'm not sure if it is healthy for you to see him. Your friendship was destroyed in such an abrupt manner that I'm worried about your attempts to re-forge it… It may be too stressful for your body and mind to handle at the moment. With all the troubles of the Empire, and having to take care of your children… Trying to resurrect a relationship that clearly died is an inefficient and strenuous use of energy that could be put to better use.

"The Empire needs you right now. Contrary to the popular belief, the Empire does not have an iron grip on the galaxy. Yet, that is to say."—Palpatine smiled thinly—"It is growing and expanding, being reformed and rebuilt. Like a child, it will be fragile until it fully matures. The Empire needs you, Lord Vader, just as you need it. One day we will rule with unquestioned authority; one day we will squash all resistance, all violence, and what will be left will be tranquility. But that day has not come just yet, and we must work diligently if we wish to see it."

"I have served the Empire faithfully, and I will continue to do so. My allegiance is to the Empire. However, I must remind you that my life is still my own. I commit most of my time to fulfilling my duties to the Empire, but what is left of that time is my own. I do with it what I wish, and the Empire—or anyone else—cannot dictate that, Chancellor."

"Oh, by all means I'm not trying to dictate what you're doing in your spare time," Palpatine said, his voice both amused and astonished, as if the thought had never occurred to him. "I'm simply an old friend concerned about your well-being."

Lies. It was all lies.

Anakin smiled and bowed down to his Master. "If that is the case, then I will take your advice into consideration. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have much work to do. As you have said yourself, the Empire is at a crucial turning point and much work must be done."

Palpatine gave a small chuckle. "Far be it from me to keep you from serving the Empire. I'm glad to see that you'll contemplate my words; hopefully you'll find my guidance sound and follow it. I'm only trying to look out for you, after all. Now, I have some business I need to finish up, but if you need to confer with me again you can leave a message with my secretary."

Anakin bowed once more before leaving, the smile still glued to his face. But the farther away he walked from the office, the more the smile twisted into something ugly. Hate and anger contorted his face, poisoning his features. Four years of repression, elusive mentions of greater power, and maddening hints of higher knowledge had made Anakin bitter.

Palpatine had promised to teach him the grand powers of the Dark Side, saying that there was much more to the Force than the dogmatic view the Jedi taught, and that he knew it. A curiosity had sparked in Anakin, and with every passing day it had grown. Before Anakin fully understood the transformation within himself, that spark had lit a consuming fire in his soul. He wished to obtain this knowledge, this power Palpatine spoke of, so that the fire—the need—in his soul could be dimmed to embers.

But Palpatine's promises were as empty as his compassion, and Anakin's raging curiosity went unabated. All Palpatine taught him of the Dark Side were the basics, frivolous tricks that would help him none on the battlefield. They were just enough to make Anakin aware of how much more there was to learn. It was as if he were coasting on the surface of a frozen lake, aware of how much deeper the water went but unable to break through the thin, cold barrier separating him from the final, drastic, satisfying plunge into the dark depth. So he foolishly pounded on the thick ice, thinking to break the barrier on his own. But no matter how much blood he spilled, how much sleep he lost, how much Force he wielded, he was always left standing on top of the ice, and not in the frosty waters he longed for. It was a thirst that drove him nearly mad.

Eventually, Anakin had awakened from his grand daydreams to realize that Palpatine would never teach him the secrets of the Dark Side; that he had never meant to in the first place.

In Palpatine's eyes, he was only a pawn. They were never meant to be equals.

Anakin gritted his teeth; every day after that revelation had strengthened his growing hatred for Palpatine. Now that he knew the promises were empty and the words false glitter, he saw past the thin veil Palpatine drew around himself. Anakin saw the way Palpatine manipulated those around him, slowly warping them to his will. Every person who succumbed to Palpatine's subtle evils painfully reminded Anakin of a younger him, for long ago he too had fallen under Palpatine's spell. And now that he had been disillusioned, he found that he had nowhere to go, nothing to do, no life left to live. Palpatine had ruined his life, destroying what could have ended happily.

There was no forgiveness in Anakin's harsh soul for a harsh man.

Anakin stepped into his personal office. While he did the more important—and sometimes unsavory—work in his home offices, he worked at the Galactic Empire building occasionally to remind people of his existence. His mere presence had the uncanny affect of driving rebelliousness out of a discontent Senator.

Before picking up a pen and stabbing signatures on papers of little consequence, he stared at the framed picture of Obi-Wan, Leia, and Luke that was standing on his desk. They were all smiling, although Obi-Wan looked a little worn with the lines underneath his eyes. 'But he always looks tired,' Anakin thought fondly. 'He's always going on about how those younglings will push him to the brink, and that it'll be Leia and Luke to finally shove him over.' Anakin closed his eyes for a moment. Yes, this was his oasis. It was the small happiness in his life that kept the anger from consuming him entirely and making him something less than human. His children and Obi-Wan were his family and all he had left in the empty space called the galaxy.

That was why he clung so desperately to them.

Opening his eyes, Anakin picked up his pen and started going through papers. Since he was the Military Executioner and Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy, there were always military personnel and ships awaiting his orders, reports notifying him of achievements or drawbacks, and spy notes updating him on the inside workings of the navy. He read a few reports and filed responses to them.

An untitled and secret job of his was to inspect bills that senators sent to the Imperial Senate to be voted on. While the Senate was supposed to inspect these bills as a whole and decide if they should be signed, altered, or vetoed, what the senators didn't know was that Anakin inspected each bill before it was presented to them. He scrutinized bills senators created carefully; searching in each one for minute details that, when put into legal action, might possibly weaken the Empire. If they were acceptable, he stamped the envelope they came in and sent them to the Chancellor. The Chancellor would then submit the bill to the Senate and let the senators trouble themselves over trivial matters; any bill that had to go past them was one that did not affect the Empire as a whole.

If flaws were found in the bills, little details that could give more power to the people and the Senate (therefore taking it away from the Empire—for Anakin was a firm believer that for power to be gained it had to be lost by someone else), Anakin had the pleasure of tearing them to shreds.

And if anyone commented on a bill they sent that was never submitted to the Senate, well… It was common for delivery droids to misplace mail, and there were too many bills to submit them to the Imperial Senate all at once…some had to wait while other, more pressing matters were discussed. And in the time it took to pass or veto that bill, other bills could be accidentally lost. Mistakes happened, even to the nearly infallible Empire.

Absently, Anakin noticed that all three bills Alderaan Senator Bail Organa sent were shredded, and mentally made a note to watch Senator Organa more closely. He had never liked the man to begin with.

After working for about fifteen minutes, Anakin paused in his drudgery. He wasn't expecting any visitors, and a decent amount of time had passed since his talk with Palpatine. He hadn't wanted to make his move too early, just in case Palpatine sent someone in to check on him, but he didn't want to wait too long either, in fear that he would miss his window of opportunity. But the Force was telling him that now was the right time to act. Putting away his pen and papers, Anakin got up from his seat and left his office room. Black robe sweeping behind him, he swiftly made his way to the surveillance room.

A single cleaning droid was in the room. "Leave here," Anakin commanded the droid. It beeped a bit while doing so, but complied quickly nonetheless. He watched it leave silently. When the door clicked shut he became a flurry of action. At the control panel he typed in command after command. Several times he was denied access, and he cursed softly as he backtracked and started again. His pupils darted back and forth as he read the contents of the screens flashing by, streams of numbers and words jumbling over each other on the monitor. He worked to break down barrier after barrier of codes and firewalls, fingers a blur on the control panel and keyboard. Despite the strong resistance, his superior technology skills and a few helpful nudges from the Force got him what he wanted within minutes. With a grim grin, Anakin typed in a few more commands, and suddenly—on the holoprojector to his right—a real-time scene started to play out.

Palpatine, Janus Greejatus, and Sim Aloo hovered in the air, tinged blue. Anakin fiddled around with the controls and suddenly sound was audible. Rotating his revolving seat to face the holoprojector, Anakin watched the three figures over his laced fingers, a small smile hovering on his lips.

The blue-tinged Palpatine was huddled close to his two top advisors, an infuriated look on his face. His voice rang out from the speakers, slightly distorted by the transmission signal: "How could you have let this happen?"

Sim Aloo, an old man with a hawk nose, normally looked severe as he stared down on people from that hooked nose of his. Now, as he shifted nervously in his black robes, he was reduced to a simple subordinate. "It's unacceptable; I agree completely. The clone trooper will be punished for his incompetence, I can assure you."

"That is no reassurance!" Palpatine hissed. "The clone trooper was never supposed to have lived in the first place, you fools! He knows too much now."

Janus Greejatus spoke out calmly, although his demeanor gave away his nervousness. "Chancellor, he knows nothing. We told him what to do and when to do it, and nothing more. He was given no explanation of what would happen from his actions. I assumed that a missing clone trooper would be more hazardous than the alternative—"

Palpatine rounded on Greejatus. "So it was your decision to let the trooper live?"

Aloo looked relieved that the anger had been redirected, and nodded his head enthusiastically. Greejatus gave Aloo a withering look before returning his attention to Palpatine. "Yes, Chancellor, I accept responsibility for that action. At the time it seemed like the wisest decision. I can say nothing more in my defense; I have failed you." He bowed his head; his bushy eyebrows furrowed together when Palpatine could no longer see his face. Undoubtedly, he was thinking that these were his last minutes in the living realm.

Yet Palpatine threw them off balance once again. Collecting himself, he settled down into a more dignified attitude. Smiling faintly at Greejatus, he said, "I admire your courage to take full responsibility. Because you have been valuable to me in the past, and a loyal friend, I shall spare your life. Just don't let this happen again, Greejatus, because I will not be so accommodating a second time."

"Thank you, Chancellor," Greejatus said, relief evident in his voice. He lifted his head up from its tilted position to look Palpatine squarely in the face as he proclaimed, "You won't regret your decision. I will immediately handle this problem and make sure that all evidence is destroyed."

"Yes, indeed, you should do so, and quickly. Lord Vader has become suspicious. Already he came to me; hence why our meeting was broken up before. He is stubborn," Palpatine mused, "and he will hunt down any fragment of truth that he can. He pursues his targets with an admirable amount of single-minded determination…part of the reason why he is so useful to the Empire. But that also makes him a danger, because he will continue to search when others would have abandoned hope. Perhaps it is because he has no hope to abandon, and only purpose keeps him alive."—Anakin gritted his teeth, hating how Palpatine evaluated and inferred about him, assuming he understood how Anakin thought—he knew nothing—"And I would like to keep him alive," Palpatine said pointedly. "He brings great strength to the Empire and great fear to the Empire's enemies."

"Yes, he is a great aspect to the Empire," Greejatus agreed wholeheartedly. His relief about having a second chance could be seen in how readily and vigorously he agreed with the Chancellor. "Almost to the point of being invaluable—not as great as your Eminence, but close."—Palpatine smiled at the thinly veiled (if veiled at all) flattery—"I will see to it that he has no evidence with which to follow. With no leads, he will undoubtedly resign himself to the fact that his suspicions were unfounded and drop the subject."

"Good." Palpatine turned slightly to make it obvious that what he said next was meant for both of them. "Now, current problems aside, there are other issues that must be commented on…such as the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi is still alive. While I have a backup plan, I would rather that you two deal with this mess personally, since you were the ones to fail. I presume that you will find another, more successful way to eliminate him. His mere presence is a danger to the Empire. His influence could destroy within weeks what I have built up for decades. I do not want to hear of this matter until you have given me affirmative news of Kenobi's death, or I have summoned you here myself." Palpatine looked darkly at both of them. "I will go to either one or two funerals in the near future; best be careful whose they are."

Sim Aloo and Janus Greejatus both paled to such an extreme extent that the action was mimicked even on their blue-tinged holographic images. With a wave of Palpatine's hand, they hastily retreated from the room. Palpatine sat down in his chair heavily and ran a hand through his thinning hair. His face, already aged beyond its years by extensive use of the Dark Force and stressful situations, sank into an even more abysmal state. Lines deepened to grotesque proportions and his eyes stared wearily out of two dark, skull-like holes.

Anakin turned off the holoprojector, having seen enough. Showing teeth, he saved the whole transmission on a small data-stick that he then slid into one of the many hidden pockets of his black tunic. He went back into the main computer's memory frame and deleted any images of himself in the surveillance room, or of him even walking the hallways close by. He then programmed the cameras to instantly delete any images of him recorded in the next ten minutes. After that, he set up two older images recorded on previous days: one of him working in his office and one—to go off in about five minutes—of him leaving his office.

All the recordings for the day would make it appear as if Anakin had gone straightly to his office after talking with Palpatine, and had stayed there for about half-an-hour before immediately leaving the Galactic Empire building. Right now, Anakin was a completely invisible entity in plain sight.

He leaned back in the seat; he had five minutes to savor the feeling. He should leave at the same time the recording of him walking out of his office played. That way, while the halls he used to exit the building would be different (though the exit itself would be the same one), anyone who witnessed him leaving would have the same time as the cameras. Besides, if they weren't suspicious of him, they wouldn't remember the exact details of where they saw him; he'd learned long ago that senators were only sharp when they felt they were being threatened. To them, it was just another day, and Anakin was just another being that constantly walked in and out of the building. If Palpatine questioned them, then compared what they said to what the cameras picked up, he would simply assume they had remembered wrong and that the cameras were right. That was another deficiency of leaning too much on technology; people began to believe that it was infallible.

Anakin grinned and didn't even try to contain the barking laughter that sprung from his lips. It was not a nice sound, laced more with irony and cruel amusement than humor. He fingered the data-stick in his pocket.

Yes, his assumptions had paid off handsomely. Anakin knew that Palpatine had cameras everywhere, and figured the fool would place one even in his own room. Palpatine was suspicious by nature, and would want recordings of whatever went on in his office, even when he wasn't there bodily (especially then). Furthermore, a camera could easily save information that could be used against people as blackmail; more than one person had unraveled under Palpatine's pressure in that red, red room.

Palpatine's confidence in his own insightfulness had blinded him. He disregarded the fact that the camera's feed could be broken into, and that same lens used to spy on its master as it did others.