For all her skills in foresight, this was not the Coruscant homecoming she had anticipated. Padmé stared down through the cityscape as her ship cruised down onto the Senate platform, all the surrounding buildings and even the top of the Senate dome obscured by a dense fog. The low clouds created for her a false sense of reality, allowing her the opportunity to pretend that this was not really Coruscant...that she had not been forced back to essentially the heart of her enemy's territory and virtually against her will. Anakin would say she was moping, having confined herself to her own quarters for the entire trip, but she could not feign cheer towards her handmaidens, and there was no point in bringing them down with her mood.
Feeling the impact as her craft landed, she stiffened herself, took one last look at herself in her mirror, and straightened her dark green choker. If she was going down, she was going to look good doing it, adorned in one of her favorite dresses, a long, elegant shawl with light and dark shades of green, orange, and yellow interspersed elegantly alongside each other, a tableau reminding her of the beauty of her native Naboo and the Lake Country. Hardening her expressions until her face resembled a stone monument, Padmé emerged icily out onto the landing pad, forcing herself to look her conniving colleagues in the eyes. Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, awaiting her below, bowed politely next to their loyal Jedi companion, nay lapdog, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Her colleagues' minds were shielded ever heavily, and she strongly suspected that they were getting help from the Jedi in that regard.
"Consular Amidala, welcome back to Coruscant." Bail Organa greeted, his voice more stiff than usual, and while she gave him her hand to kiss, she wondered if the Obi-Wan was going to attack her here and now in the open.
Nothing yet, so she nodded to Mon and Obi-Wan, barely acknowledging them. "Mon. Obi-Wan. I assume you will brief me on our objectives for the negotiations?"
The young Consular from Chandrila forced out a smile, as if trying to lighten the mood. "Of course. But I am famished. So many restaurants I missed this past year. Any in particular you're looking forward to, Padmé?"
"I came here to work, not to eat," Padmé responded coldly, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes. She also restrained herself from the urge to strike first at Obi-Wan and catch him unawares. But he was probably just as much on edge as her. Besides, it would not look good this trap was just a product of her paranoia and she attacked him unprovoked...not a likely scenario, but not worth the risk just yet. She also did not want to say out loud that she really did miss the food at Dex's. Obi-Wan was a connoisseur of that charming diner as well, and at this point Padmé wanted to avoid as much awkward small talk as possible. Her only consolation was the knowledge now that her acting skills far exceeded those of Bail and Mon's.
"Consular Amidala," Obi-Wan said evenly, "I believe the Interim Chancellor is awaiting us."
Not bothering with protocol, Padmé walked past her retinue, turning her backs to them to forge ahead alone towards the Senate entrance. Her senses heightened, she awaited that painful, burning sensation in her back. Would the Jedi strike her down in such a cowardly way now? No. Obi-Wan was a lot of things, but he possessed the dignity of facing her as he did murder. Force, she missed Anakin. Recalling her time spent on this planet before the Clone Wars, a lifetime ago it seemed, she had never felt so alone on the crowded planet.
Padmé knew it was over the moment she walked inside the main lobby, where Fafi and Amedda awaited, alongside Mace Windu and almost a dozen Jedi, some of them remaining members of the High Council on Coruscant, others more obscure ones she did not recognize.
The new Interim Chancellor of the Republic stepped forward. "Consulars. Master Obi-Wan. I welcome you to back to our capital world. I have full faith our negotiations will be fruitful and complete."
Padmé walked along the row of Jedi standing in line besides Fafi, looking each of them in the eye, daring them to move, react, or just blink. None bit. She ended her procession before Mace.
"Master Windu," she said politely. "I see the negotiations will be secured by the Jedi? Most unnecessary, I assure you."
She felt Obi-Wan move into place behind her. "Chancellor Fafi has handed over full control of the Droid Army to the Jedi Order. The building is secure, and the negotiations will not require your presence."
"We are here for you, Consular Amidala," Mace said coldly. "I hope, with respect for the sanctity of the Senate building, that you will surrender your weapons and accompany us to the Temple without making a scene."
"You are outnumbered," Obi-Wan added rather gratuitously. "There are dozens of Jedi backing us up outside. You simply cannot escape. I hope there will be no unnecessary bloodshed."
"I'm flattered," Padmé said, laughing angrily, "that you would call nearly half the temple here to subdue me." She turned to Bail and Mon, who both averted their eyes from her. "This treachery I expect from the likes of Fafi and the Jedi. But I suppose I was naive to expect true loyalty in this world, even from my closest friends."
"You betrayed us with your actions," Bail said, and she sensed that part of him was still conflicted about his actions. "And your crimes."
"I ask you to list..."
Obi-Wan interrupted her. "Your trial will come, and it will be fair, I assure you. But this is neither the time nor place."
"Fine," Padmé spat. She took out both her lightsabers an dropped them onto the floor.
"Hands out where I can see them," Obi-Wan said, not falling for any possible ruse. Padmé grudgingly obliged, and did not flinch when Obi-Wan slapped a pair of Force binders around her wrists. She nevertheless smirked when the venerable Mace Windu himself had to bend downwards onto the floor to pick up her lightsabers. Unfortunately, Fafi interrupted the little satisfaction she could arrive from the arrest.
"Consulars Organa and Mothma, it is not my place to tell you what you should do, but I believe you have more urgent business to conclude before our negotiations begin."
"Ah yes," Bail said. He pulled out his comm and entered several codes, summoning the holo-images of the Alliance's two foremost ranking officers, Generals Skywalker and Rex.
"General Rex," he said, his voice sharp with authority.
"Consulars," Rex answered curtly. "What is your order of business?" He frowned. "I do not see Consular Amidala. Is she away?"
"Consular Amidala has been charged with crimes against the peace and turned over to the custody of the Jedi Order. General Skywalker?"
To everyone's surprise, the young Sith did not explode on the spot, though his rage was clear in his blue eyes, his nostrils flaring with every breath. "I hope this is a sick joke, Bail."
"There is nothing funny about this, and I will ignore your implicit threat against us," Mon retorted with more courage than she thought she possessed. "Anakin Skywalker, you are relieved of your rank and duties, effective immediately. A warrant has been placed for your arrest for the murder of Prime Minister Atai Molec of Zygerria, a prisoner of war at the time of his death. I suggest you turn yourself in."
"Or what," Anakin snarled, startling the Consulars as his eyes flared to a sickly yellow. "What will you do if I resist these baseless charges?"
"You will be branded a fugitive by the Alliance, by the Republic, and by the Jedi Order," Bail challenged back. Proper politician he might have been, the older man clearly did not take kindly to being threatened.
"General Rex," Mon said, "the 501st will apprehend Anakin Skywalker and secure him. You and the other battalions will report immediately to Coruscant, where you will be placed under the authority of the Jedi."
"But Consular...," Rex said, the young clone shaken to his core by these new orders, "we are engaged on Nar Shaddaa..."
"Nar Shaddaa can wait," Mon interrupted. "This is a matter of the highest priority."
Immediately wiping off his defiant expression, the clone general answered his superior reluctantly. "Understood, Consular."
"A coup by the Jedi against both the Republic and the Alliance," Padmé sneered as the transmissions came to an end. "And you condemn us Sith. I'll admit though, this power play is far more audacious than what I normally expect out of your Order."
"It is nothing of the sort," Bail retorted angrily, "and you know it. The Jedi can be trusted to secure these instruments of war you so indulged yourself with, Padmé. Once the negotiations are complete, authority will be returned to the Senate."
"And don't you dare speak on behalf of the Alliance," Mon added. "You betrayed us. You betrayed our principles. Never will you speak for us again."
"I am the Alliance," Padmé snarled back. "I created it, I birthed it from nothing. Without me the both of you will still be sucking and choking on Gunray's cock."
"Enough," Obi-Wan ordered. He looked over to Mace, signalling that there was no need to let the politicians continue their bickering. "Time to go."
Without one last look at her former colleagues, Padmé marched obediently towards her fate, her only thoughts centered around her only hope.
"I'm honestly surprised you took the bait," Obi-Wan said from outside her cell, buried in the depths of the Jedi Temple. To her, he was gloating, an act unbefitting of the Jedi.
"Don't overestimate your cleverness, Jedi." Padmé said stoically, standing with her back at the Jedi, facing the cell wall and refusing to look upon her captor. "You left me little choice. A Consular..."
"Former Consular," Obi-Wan interrupted, feeling a dark burst of anger from the Sith.
"Whatever. I may have been betrayed, but history will show that I carried out my duties to the Alliance until the end. Unlike my disloyal colleagues."
Obi-Wan scoffed. "I think histories will tell a great many different things about this period, once the full truth emerges."
"Why are you here, Obi-Wan? I won't believe you came just to gloat. Is it a confession you're looking for? Would you like me to apologize for being a Sith? Repent and embrace the light? Dye my hair blonde and take you in my mouth?"
She felt the smirk behind her disappear. It was a small triumph, and she needed them right now.
"Maybe I'm here to offer you a sympathetic ear to talk to," Obi-Wan said uncomfortably.
"Ha." Padmé shook her head. "It's that overwhelming intellectual curiosity of yours, isn't it? You want to know everything that makes me tick, how I think, how I hate, so that when you brief the Council, you can show off to those know nothing demigods your expert and analytical insights into the mind of a Sith."
"Whatever you say, Darth."
"You will not get away with this, you know."
The audacity of her declaration took even Obi-Wan unawares. "I won't get away with this? You're the Sith, lest we forget! You're the villain, the criminal, the murderess here. I'm just..."
She turned to look at him, her golden brown eyes burning through him with a frightening intensity. "Do you really think my husband will twiddle his thumbs and do nothing while I waste away in a cell? He will destroy you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He will destroy your Jedi brethren, your Temple, your precious little fountain rooms, , your Code. He will destroy Coruscant, he will destroy this entire fucking galaxy for me!"
"He is one boy against the whole Galaxy." His calm words belied his uneasiness at the Sith's declarations. "You overestimate his powers."
"Yet you all still believe him the Chosen One."
"He had the opportunity to be special, until you intervened. And for what? Not only did you lead yourself to ruin, but your husband's life as well. What will Shmi say to you now?"
"Shmi would still be a slave if you Jedi had your way. If she were still lucky to be alive, what with Hutts free to run roughshod over Tatooine, not to mention the Tusken Raiders and all the other miscreants on that dust ball the righteous Jedi Order would have abandoned the mother of their Chosen One to."
"That is..."
"The absolute truth and you know it." Getting up, she flew over to the bars of her cell, facing Obi-Wan with unnerving rage. "What do you Jedi care about anyone? I heard whispers even as you walked me to this cell. Many of your own kind are quite upset about how the Council is letting that poor Padawan girl rot in a cell, same as me."
"Padawan Tano violated the Code and acted without the authority of the Council. In doing so, she violated the laws of the Republic." Suddenly, he wanted to escape. It had been a long and mentally trying day, and he needed to meditate. Amidala had a point. Why exactly had he come down here again?
"Fafi has stated his intention to pursue the death penalty upon the girl."
"A negotiating tactic, no doubt. He will use it as leverage to obtain more concessions benefiting himself. His stance will soften, but Padawan Tano must face the consequences of her actions. Same as you and your apprentice."
"And the Jedi will face the consequences of their actions," Padmé teased with an evil grin. "My name is immensely popular with the people. When they hear the Jedi conspired with the likes of Fafi and Amedda against me, they will tear down your Temple better than I ever could."
"Popularity is fleeting," Obi-Wan said, more defensively than he would have liked. "The people will change their minds once they learn the truth."
"My truth differs greatly from yours," Padmé said, turning away and lying down onto the small cot, curling up and facing the wall away from Obi-Wan once more. "This conversation is over."
"Plotting my demise? Trying to summon the spirit of your deceased master?"
"Meditating," Padmé said softly, her tone almost as neutral as a Jedi's. "Thinking about my husband, reflecting upon our happiest moments." She paused, appearing to have fallen into a trance, and Obi-Wan turned to leave. As he strode away, he heard her speak again.
"And yes, fantasizing the ways we will torture you once we are reunited."
"Ah, and there you have it," Obi-Wan back around at the cell. "You just can't help yourself, can you? I was willing to believe your spiel, I honestly gave it a chance. Had you been able to control yourself and not go around killing everyone in sight, there never would have been a divide between you and your allies, or between Jedi and Sith. But it's in your nature, isn't it? The principles of a Sith Lord were never compatible with those of a democracy, am I not wrong? With trust, with right..."
He realized there was no point in continuing. The Sith was not responding. Probably not even listening. So for him to continue would only he mean was doing so for selfish purposes, to vent his own frustrations towards the Sith Order in a way unbefitting the Jedi Order. So he shut himself up and left to report to what remained of the High Council.
If an obese man in the latter stages of his middled age could skip like a child, that's would be how Fafi's gait looked to a bystander as he strode through the Senate hallways. Finally, after all these years in the shadows, the Senate was finally his, if only for a moment. Fafi was under no impression that he could remain in power. Mothma and Organa will take over, at least for a little while. But they were weak do gooders, and their regimes, like that of Bail Antilles, were doomed to failure. Perhaps then, the Senate would recognize his contributions. Even if he never again returned to power, his place in posterity was secured, and true historians centuries from now were certain to applaud his feats.
Hells, he had saved the Republic. There was no denying that, and the small pocket of idealism his heart still harbored gloried in that accomplishment. With one fell swoop, he had eliminated that vile threat of extortion that had hung over the Senate ever since Cato Neimoidia, the same threat that propelled Nute Gunray to power...with his help of course. Only three parties had seen the holocron: Amidala, Gunray, and the Jedi. The former was likely never leaving the bowels of the Jedi Temple, save for when the Jedi grew a set and decide to execute the damned, troublesome woman. As for the Jedi, they were prone to discretion anyway. Led now into what was clearly still a relatively unpopular coup against Amidala, and adding the fact that he could easily pin Gunray's assassination on them thanks to one very naive rogue Padawan, they would be meeker than ever, daring not even a shadow of interference into Galactic politics for centuries. As for Gunray, it was very inconvenient that the girl did not finish the job. He had to die of course, for the threat to abate. With the cowardly Neimoidian still in a fear coma, it would be easy to arrange for his death once the scrutiny of the Alliance members and the Jedi focused away from him and onto mopping up the remains of the war.
Settling happily into the Chancellor's chair after an admittedly exhausting day of negotiations, he frowned at the sight of an old rusty sword hanging above his mantle. The soon to be late Nute Gunray had offered him the vile tool the then Chancellor had used to cut the throat of the Naboo girl as some bizarre token of his gratitude. It would have to go soon, Fafi thought, the heirloom distasteful to him in many ways.
"What a waste of a good cunt," he muttered to himself, his attention pivoting to more important matters. Entering the code to the secret safe under his desk, he opened the drawers and breathed a sigh of relief. Though he had offered up Gunray's control chips for the Droid Army to the Jedi as a gesture of goodwill, even the venerable and wise masters did not know there was a backup. Gunray had shared the secret with only him and Amedda after one particularly drunken late night meeting. He did not expect to use it...but it didn't hurt to keep it either. Just in case the negotiations did not go as planned.
Nightshade's sydneylover150: I wouldn't say he left, it was a mutual parting. But who knows, Obi-Wan might be the one doing the killing! After all, he already has one Sith under his belt, doesn't he?!
Alexandra: Very interesting points. I have not read those books though I'm roughly familiar with the Xanatos plotline from reading wiki's, so I have not factored those motivations in this story. Here, Obi-Wan doesn't necessarily want to turn away Quinlan, but the Sith have driven an irreconcilable wedge between them.
Paul Lenzen: Thanks! They've definitely stepped in it for now, but you have to think they have something escape in mind. I certainly hope they do.
1saaa: Thanks! I'm actually ahead for once and some chapters are already partially completed, so hopefully the next ones come quick.