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: Fated Rain by Tristripe. This is a Wolf's Rain fic, rated M, and involves yaoi. Tristripe is amazing with paying attention to the details. You really get a feel of who the people are and the environment they are forced to live in. This fic's dark, and does deal with some twisted people (one of Toboe's neighbors is a pedophile). This fic is teeming with so much life and chaos. And I love all the allusions buried within it also. It adds another interesting layer to an already multi-layered story.

I felt sorry when Threepio died…and I'm the one who wrote it! But there is a purpose for everything, and things will be revealed. I love creating hints and adding layers to my story. Anywho, to answer a question, yes, Anakin and Obi-Wan did sleep-sleep together. I'm just not one to write a lemon scene, so I made the whole thing really subtle. I'm more interested in exploring the mental side of a relationship than the physical.

I'm still in shock of how many reviews I got for the last chapter. Really, it's amazing, and I thank each and every one of you! I'm glad that so many people are enjoying my story. I love all your inputs, and I've probably said that too many times already, but I don't think I can say it enough times (if that made any sense). If you see any mistakes, or feel that the characters or plot's getting too loopy, tell me. I'll see if it's something fixable.

Page Amount: 4

Word Count: 3,140

Written 8-4-05

Listening to: Authority Zero "Madman" (put new batteries in my headphones. :) )

Written by Ice Dragon3

Jedi Genocide

Chapter Fifteen: Dawning of a New Era

They walked towards the mushroom-shaped Senate building, Anakin assured and Obi-Wan apprehensive. The reaction of the younglings weighed heavily on the Jedi's shoulders. He felt that their sorrow was his fault, just as Tarren and Skraith's deaths were. Guilt was an increasingly heavy anchor that he was trying to stay afloat with. Right now, he felt that his head was barely above water.

But no matter how he felt, no matter the pain and sadness and regret he suffered, he did not want to die. He wasn't ready.

If he were to be executed in this building, he would fight to the end. He didn't need a lightsaber to use the Force, and he would try to escape. Thoughts raced through his head at the speed of light particles. He'd been in this building many times before the Empire takeover (and none afterwards), and he went through all the escape routes he could think of. But it was hard to concentrate, as his mind kept drifting from strategies to stay alive to the actual reasons why he wanted to stay alive. He had so many unfinished plans. He wanted to complete the younglings' training, build a new lightsaber, rejoin Yoda and the other Jedi, travel back to the Outer Rim and stop the lawlessness there, have one last heart-to-heart talk with Dex, and, and…there were too many things clamoring in his mind for him to grasp them all. There were so many things he had meant to do and never got around to.

As they walked into the building a dark, tall man—Obi-Wan thought he might vaguely know him—was led away by a small squad of indistinguishable, white-armored Stormtroopers. His tanned, aristocratic face was grave and his hands cuffed together. They passed quickly, and while the man's dark eyes flickered towards him for a nanosecond, he gave no other sign of recognition as he was pushed out of the building at blaster point. Obi-Wan turned his head slightly to watch the small procession load into a waiting vehicle, a slight frown wrinkling his forehead. The man was a dark blob in a sea of sterile, aggressive white. There was just something about that scene that was unsettling…nearly disturbing.

Only after the man was long gone did Obi-Wan remember his name—Organa. He had been one of the politicians close to Padmé, and Obi-Wan could just barely remember her introducing him to Bail Organa once at a charity fundraiser. Both being polite and formal men, their conversation had been polite and formal. Or more to the point, brief. They both lived in different 'social spheres,' and small talk can only fill small spaces, after all.

"Where are they going with Senator Bail Organa?" Obi-Wan asked Anakin quietly as they headed down the hall. He may have only met Organa once, and maybe that wasn't enough to form a good evaluation, but he knew that the man had been a supporter of the Jedi and an acquaintance of Yoda's. Judging from what he had heard of Organa and the friends that he kept, the politic seemed like a virtuous man who placed the people before the government. That was hardly someone who would break the law.

"There is no need for the prefix 'Senator,' as he has been stripped of his political privileges for wrongly abusing them. He has been declared a traitor to the Empire, and has been sentenced as thus," Anakin said dismissingly. He didn't embellish on the statement, and Obi-Wan didn't press for more. He already had an idea of what was going to happen. And it worried him that the government was weeding out the individuals whose intentions were to actually help others.

"This is my wonderful office," Anakin said with a mock flourish of his hand, the action encompassing the drab room. Neutral colors and steel covered everything, and it had the personality of an anonymous gravestone. "It's not much, but it serves its purpose. Modesty before ascension, one may say. Now, before I can talk to you, I have an urgent meeting I must attend. If all goes as planned, it won't take too long, and I'll be back soon." Anakin left in a whirl of dark colors, robes flapping like a mini tornado.

The door, being a diligent guard, snapped to attention with a smart click.

Obi-Wan looked around the room, analyzing his surroundings and trying to find possible escape routes. If things went downhill and he needed an exit, he'd only have a split second to use it. He had to prepare ahead. The door was obviously locked and not an option. Unless he were to surprise Anakin and rush him when he first entered. But he didn't think that was a wise decision, since that would bring him within grasping-distance of Anakin.

Or, if he found something strong but skinny, like a paperclip, he could put his lock-picking skills to the test… But that meant starting his escape plan now because it would take some time, and he still wasn't entirely sure if he should run or not. If this turned out to be just a regular visit to the office, then there would be questions he'd have to answer later. And no matter how skillfully he responded, Anakin would remain suspicious and his mission would be in jeopardy from then on out.

Lifting the blinds on one of the windows, Obi-Wan welcomed in the pale, yellow rays of the sinking sun. No bars were on the window (he half-expected to find some, he felt that much like a prisoner), but the drop down was several stories too high for him to jump and survive…twenty-five stories too high, actually. He might live if he had the fortune of landing on a speeder passing by. Then he'd only have several broken bones to contend with, and perhaps a punctured lung, as he tried to run away. No, once again it was a plan that relied too much on luck. He had to find another route out, one that was nearly foolproof and could be used in a split second at the first sign of danger.

He looked around the room, hoping to find some obvious secret passageway. No such luck. He returned to his seat, cradling his head in his hands as he racked his brain for ideas.

He was stumped.

It turned out that he had a little less than an hour to think of his impending doom. He spent most of it watching the minute hand of a clock tick in a clockwise direction. Every time he saw the thick, long and black arm click down, he felt as if a guillotine was inching towards his neck. Tick, tick, tick, tick, the clock told him smugly, shaking its slender, second-hand at him. The noise bothered him.

Fifty-five minutes from his exit, or 3,300 ticks later, Anakin entered again, looking slightly more rumpled but decidedly more satisfied. One of his sleeves was smoking, and he proceeded to pat it out as he said cheerfully, "Unfortunately, the Chancellor has died of a heart attack. As second command of the Empire, I now am in control. While this event was unforeseen and leaves the Empire in distress, I must uphold my duty and carry on the Chancellor's great schemes for the Empire. It's the least I can do for him."

He grinned, finally extinguishing the smoking sleeve.

"This is…unsuspected," Obi-Wan said truthfully. "I didn't realize that you had come here for the exact purpose of—" Anakin put a slim finger on his mouth, effectively cutting him off.

Smiling, he said mysteriously, "I sensed a disturbance in the Force, is all, and arrived to see the Chancellor die. My timing was pure luck. The Empire is fortunate that I am willing and adequate enough for the responsibility of becoming Emperor. I will improve what has already been done; I will better the Empire. We have an emergency conference in about an hour. That gives me ample time to present my offer to you."

"And just what is that?" Obi-Wan asked as Anakin took the seat right by him. He felt more curious than nervous, now that he knew the execution had not been meant for him.

Anakin leaned in and said seriously, "I want you to become my main advisor. During the Clone Wars you were called the Negotiator for a reason; I'd like you to use those skills for me."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't know, Anakin—"

"Ani," Anakin interjected softly.

"Ani. I've never gotten along with politics before, and I don't think I'd like to become actively involved with them. I am busy already, and have other responsibilities. I can't abandon those."

"You can't refuse this offer…can't you see the benefits? You'll become main advisor. I know that you have no interest in power, but think of the influence you'll have. Remember our conversation at the zoo a couple months ago? About my new education laws? You pointed out some after-effects of my actions that I had missed. If you become my advisor, you can help me avoid situations like that. I want to improve this galaxy, and I want you by my side to help me."

"I don't know, Ani…" Although it was a tempting offer, he didn't know if he wanted to owe his allegiances, even superficially, to the Empire.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Offers like this don't happen everyday…you could say that you were simply in the right place at the right time, but I believe it's something more. You were meant to do this. You must decide now; throw away this pristine opportunity or take this power and use it for good." Anakin said encouragingly, "Improve the galaxy with it, destroy the corruption still lurking in the Senate, save the lives of countless people. You'll have no limits to what you can do."

Obi-Wan contemplated the Sith's words.

"I see that you're still thinking," Anakin said kindly. "How about I give you a suggestion of what I plan on doing, just to show you that my words are genuine? I want to outlaw slavery, starting with Tatooine. Slowly, I'll make slavery illegal in every star system. And before anyone realizes it slavery will be banned in the entire galaxy! Help back me with this decision—become an important part of the Empire and throw your weight in with me. If we both press for it, I know this bill will pass. And that's just the beginning. Think of the possibilities!"

Accepting this offer would serve three purposes, Obi-Wan thought. It would secure Anakin's confidence in him, give him a chance to liberate slaves and help others in equal need, and allow him to sneak around the Senate building without looking suspicious. "I'll do it." Looking at it in that light, how else could he reply?

Anakin comradely clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder. "I knew you'd see the light. Now that we're sharing the rest of our lives together officially, I wanted to also include you in my business life, since I'm already a part of yours. This opportunity was very fortunate, wasn't it?"

"Indeed, it was," Obi-Wan agreed. 'Fortunate' did not begin to describe it.

"Now, before the conference starts, we must look more presentable. I have extra clothes here for myself, and lucky for you I have a spare outfit normally worn by the main advisor…it got dropped off here by mistake weeks ago and I just never got around to moving it…" Anakin pulled the outfits out of a durasteel strongbox set in the back of the room.

"Chance and luck seem to favor you. Quite a combination," Obi-Wan said mildly as he took off his outer clothing to slide into the outfit Anakin gave him. He felt Anakin's eyes on him as he did so, and glanced up quickly to see that his comment had earned him that disquieting sidelong look. It made him feel uncomfortable, and he quickened the process of putting on the formal garments. He felt naked enough as it was with that look, and it didn't help when he was almost literally half-naked.

"I like to think of myself as a fortunate man." Anakin replaced his scorched and shredded tunic and robe with the new ones, which were identical, down to the last detail, to the first pair. "But I also like to think of myself as well-prepared. For what are opportunities but luck coupled with canniness?" He glanced at the clock on the wall. "It seems we still have about half an hour until our meeting… We should be there early, so it's really more like fifteen minutes."

"Then we shall have to wait," Obi-Wan concluded.

Anakin gracefully walked over to him. Sliding his fingers into Obi-Wan's hair and placing a kiss on his lips, he said slyly, "I can think of something better that we can do." He pulled Obi-Wan to his body and kissed him again. Obi-Wan didn't fight, or entirely hate, the sensation, but he kept his participation to a minimum (enough to not draw suspicion, but at the same time not enough to elicit a more heated response). He kept the reason why he was doing this in his mind the whole time, repeating it like a mantra or prayer.

My goal is to complete the mission and insure the survival of the Jedi. My goal is to complete the mission and insure the survival of the Jedi. My goal—

At that moment Anakin delved his tongue into Obi-Wan's mouth, and Obi-Wan had to stifle the urge to moan. Force, he felt horrible that a part of him actually liked this. Which dampened the pleasure, thankfully.

After ten minutes of kissing and a bit of heavy petting (Obi-Wan was thankful that it proceeded no further than that), Anakin stopped, breathing heavily. "Sorry about that… It's just that I'm so happy right now, and you're here, and well… I can't help but be a little affectionate towards you." He smiled, straightening his tunic before doing the same to Obi-Wan's, his hands lingering a bit. "Besides, you looked like you needed some comfort after what happened at the Temple, and I don't know how else to show you my love." He glanced at the clock. "We should start heading to the Senate conference room."

Anakin strolled the halls with an assurance and power that Obi-Wan only wished he could mimic. He felt extremely out of place in this madhouse for politics. He didn't know how Anakin managed to give the appearance of belonging.

They walked down a hallway to the small room. It held the podium Chancellor Palpatine had sat in for so much of his reign, slowly amassing power like a wine connoisseur hoarding fine vintages, each star system a rare bottle. Anakin stepped onto it, and motioned for Obi-Wan to stand at his right side. Anakin looked serene, even eager. "I've wanted to stand on this thing for so long," he admitted to Obi-Wan. "I've waited for this moment for a very, very long time." He wiped his hands on his legs, but it was more of an impatient gesture than a nervous habit as his hands were dry.

"I must confess that I do not share your excitement," Obi-Wan said dryly. "To be the focus of all the Senators in the galaxy, all of them scrutinizing me with their beady eyes as they look down from their elevated seats…hardly what I would call a good time."

"Don't worry. You won't have to say a thing. You're here to make them aware of your presence, so that when we announce later that you're my main advisor they can put a face to the name. Since I'm the one giving the speech, most of their focus will be on me. Just stand there looking grave and serious, and they'll instantly like you. And if they don't, then I'll take care of them for you. Does that sound good to you?"

"Me watching from a distance sounds even better," Obi-Wan chuckled, nervously straightening his stiff, dark burgundy robe.

A light blipped on the control system of the podium, and Anakin said, "It's time. Everyone's gathered." He pressed a couple buttons, and the platform started to rise through a recently opened gap in the ceiling. Obi-Wan tried to keep still as they entered into the enormous dome where democracy had been birthed and murdered. It was the room where Chancellor Palpatine had sacrificed democracy on the altar of tyranny and where Anakin, already having made his blood sacrifice, planned to make the monster his own.

"Senators of the Imperial Senate," Anakin said in a commanding voice, a hidden microphone in the stand making his words clear to even those sitting farthest away. "I come to you to talk of grave matters. The Chancellor has died, overworking himself to the point of a heart attack." The senate broke into hushed mumbles, and the droning and constant movement resembled a hive of bees. Anakin let them go on for a few seconds before raising a hand, calling for silence. He received it instantly. "He died serving this government, building it up to what it is today. But the building will not end with him," he said strongly as his voice rose, "The Empire will continue to grow stronger. The old emperor has died, and I willingly, as his second in command, step up to take the responsibilities he has left behind. With a new emperor, will come a new era.

"You are witnessing the dawning of that new era! An age of strength, growth, prosperity and wealth!" Anakin raised his hands, and it seemed as if he not only encompassed the chamber with them, but the entire galaxy and beyond. His outstretched fingers spoke of the faith of believing that limits did not exist. People leaned forward in their seats, drawn to his magnetic personality and passion, to his good looks and strength. "With your loyalty, I will bring this vision to life. The galaxy will be unified under one order, an order of peace, invincibility, and reason! An order that is the Empire!"

His speech was met with animated cheers and claps. The Senate as a whole got to their feet, giving him a standing ovation. Camera droids hovered about him, capturing and digitalizing the moment. The floating machines with their glass eyes whirled around him in dizzying circles, the noise of cheers and machinery humming bounced off rounded walls, and lights flashed spontaneously as picture after picture brutally grasped to contain the moment. There was a mad frenzy of noise and movement around him, a living hurricane, and he was the calm eye of its focus. Upwards and upwards it spiraled, as if it could never come down—.

He smiled.

The Empire was his.