Author: TemporaryUniverse
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sheev Palpatine/Darth Sidious, Mace Windu
Summary: Was the Senate always this Dark? He could feel it oozing out of the walls, coating the floors and the people, but all of it concentrated in one area. On one person.
Impossible.
With all his effort, he slammed his shields back up, nearly cutting himself off from the Force.
"What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of a Dark Lord of the Sith?"
Dooku hadn't been lying.
Word Count: 1,670

In the weeks after his mission to Zigoola, Obi-Wan was unsettled. The darkness had invaded his mind, doing its best to kill him, and though he was no longer on that accursed planet, it would not leave, pressing against his newly rebuilt shields and haunting his every step. Any momentary lapse in concentration, of which there were many, and his shields would buckle under the pressure, threatening to flood his mind with the Dark again. He was exhausted, unending nightmares plaguing his sleep, often as soon as he closed his eyes. Meditation became a battle and took even more effort than it had when he had still been an initiate.

His injuries had kept him in the Healing Halls for two weeks. Well, almost two weeks. He'd managed to convince the healers to release him early with the promise that he wouldn't leave his quarters and would actually rest for the next few days. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept this much, even though it could hardly be called sleeping when he got an hour at most between nightmares. The rest of his time was spent rebuilding his shields, drinking tea, and generally being bored. After so long at war, all of this inaction was getting to him. Anakin and Ahsoka weren't even around for company, they'd been sent back out to the front a few days ago.

This morning, he was sitting at his window, sipping his favorite herbal blend, letting the mug warm his hands and banish the chill of his memories and the terrible mantra in his head. Die, Jedi. Die, Jedi. Die, Jedi. He stared down at his clenched fingers and chased the voice away with a breath.

His tea had gone cold and he set the cup down with an irritated sigh. Get it together, he scolded himself. He stood and dumped the tepid drink in the sink. The teapot was still warm, but he didn't feel like pouring himself another cup. There was a restless itch under his skin and the urge to leave, go, get out now was strong enough to force him nearly out the door before he stopped himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering the Healer's instructions, and returned to sit on his couch. He lay back and began to move through the most basic relaxation exercise he knew, searching for any semblance of peace.

He must have partially succeeded because he jerked awake hours later with his heart pounding due to a nightmare. Usually he'd have woken up at least three times in that period. Knowing that didn't help much when his heart was threatening to pound its way out of his too tight chest and he couldn't get enough air into his heaving lungs. The image of the lightsaber in his hand, the shock in Bail's expression as the blood-red blade seared through his gut, before his face morphed into Qui-Gon, Anakin, Ahsoka, Cody, Satine, back to Bail; one after another blaming him for their deaths, slayed by his hand.

He buried his head in his shaky hands and fought to control his breathing. Eventually, the panic subsided, and he managed to force himself back to some semblance of composure. Before he could think better of it, he was up and moving, cramming his feet into his boots and throwing on his robe. He pulled the cloak tight around himself as he left his room, putting his hood up so he wouldn't be bothered and trying not to run as he made his way through the Temple halls.

It was simple to leave the Temple by one of the side doors. Master Che would have his head when she found out he'd gone, but the consequences mattered very little to him right now.

He navigated his way through the Coruscant public transit system, slipping past crowds of beings all headed to their own destinations in their own lives, oblivious to the inner turmoil of the cloaked stranger in their midst. Obi-Wan continued on, intent on his destination, and arrived at the Senate building in under half an hour. Fatigue was already creeping up on him from even that short journey and the strain of maintaining his shields around so many sentients had brought back his headache. His leg was also starting to hurt, and he considered just how terribly thought out this excursion had been. The anxiety lingered, however, and he knew it wouldn't leave him until he was sure.

He took the lift up and tried not to limp as he strode through the halls. At last, he reached the correct office.

The aide set down their stylus as he entered, looking up from their datapad.

"Master Kenobi, how can I help you?"

"Is Senator Organa in? There is something I need to discuss with him."

"I'm sorry, he's in a meeting," they said. "You're welcome to wait, but I'm afraid it will be another forty minutes." Of course. A meeting. Why wouldn't he be?

"No, that's alright. Please have him comm me when he returns."

"Certainly." He bowed to them and left, cursing himself for not calling ahead like any sensible person would. What was he supposed to do now? The anxiety was still there, crawling under his skin, reminding him of hundreds of insect legs, like the fire beetles on Taanab swarming all over him.

This was a bad idea.

Should he return to the Temple to face the wrath of Master Che? Or should he attempt to hide in the Senate until Bail was done?

"General Kenobi."

Obi-Wan turned, hiding his startlement, to face Chancellor Palpatine. He hadn't sensed him approach.

"Supreme Chancellor." He bowed, struggling to keep the aggravation from showing on his face. Dealing with the Chancellor, or any politician, really, was difficult on his best days, and on his worst? Well, it would be a miracle if this didn't end in disaster.

"I didn't expect to run into you, today. I'd heard you were badly injured."

"I'm recovering well, Chancellor, thank you for your concern." Polite. Polite. Stay polite. He tucked his hands in his robe and grabbed his wrist tightly.

"What happened on your mission, might I ask?" There was a chill in the air, he could feel Darkness pressing in on him. His shields were falling. Not again! Not here!

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss the details. The Council is still debating. I'm sure you'll get a full report later." He needed to leave. It was getting harder to think, Zigoola was lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting for the moment to strike. He silently begged Palpatine to let him go.

"Actually, I wanted your opinion on the Ryloth campaign, if you have the time. Why don't you accompany me to my office?"

"I—" Was the Senate always this Dark? He could feel it oozing out of the walls, coating the floors and the people, but all of it concentrated in one area. On one person.

Impossible.

With all his effort, he slammed his shields back up, nearly cutting himself off from the Force.

"What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of a Dark Lord of the Sith?"

Dooku hadn't been lying.

He looked at Palpatine and Palpatine looked back. He could swear he saw a flicker of yellow in the Sith Lord's eyes. Palpatine knew that he knew.

The only thing that saved him was that they were in the middle of the hallway in the Senate Building, with people walking past. Palpatine wouldn't dare reveal himself where anyone could see. But Obi-Wan couldn't do anything either, his only proof was a feeling in the Force.

"I apologize, Chancellor, but you really must excuse me. I have a meeting with the Council." He needed to tell them, needed to warn them. Obi-Wan reached for his comm, but it wasn't there. It was still at the Temple, he realized. He'd left it in his rush. Worse yet, he didn't have his lightsaber. Foolish. Foolishness that may very well get him killed.

His mind raced through his options. If he could contact Anakin through their bond… but Anakin was across the galaxy and their ability to communicate didn't stretch that far. Besides, would Anakin even believe him? He was friends with the Chancellor, and it often seemed as though the trust between them was greater than that with his master. Obi-Wan pushed aside the implications of that for later.

Adi Gallia! Adi was scheduled to be in the Senate today, he could find her, she could contact the rest of the Council. He relaxed his shields and reached out in the Force, trying to pinpoint her location, but recoiled when he found Darkness instead.

"Perhaps we can talk while we walk," Palpatine said, smiling genially.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to respond and the Dark pushed. He felt the blood rush from his face. He stumbled.

Die, Jedi. Die, Jedi. DIE, JEDI.

"General Kenobi, are you well?"

If he didn't know, he would say the concern sounded genuine. The Force trilled a warning, but, disoriented, Obi-Wan didn't react fast enough. Palpatine's hand landed on his shoulder in a seemingly supportive gesture, and there was a prick in his neck. He jerked and the Sith let go, but the damage was already done, the Force began slipping from his grasp.

"General Kenobi?" The Chancellor sounded like he was speaking from the other end of a long tunnel and Obi-Wan's vision was blurring. The world tilted and then he was staring up at a wall and he couldn't move. Palpatine was talking, something about a doctor, something about another room, but he couldn't understand him. He tried to fight, but his limbs weren't cooperating, he couldn't even feel his body. Through his barely open eyelids, he could see shadows moving around, and the world tilted again as he was lifted.

He couldn't keep track of the events after that. Everything drifted away like a ship dead in space.

A.N. Next chapter updates tomorrow.

Thank you for reading!