Disclaimer: I wish I could take credit for creating Star Wars, but alas, I am not George Lucas, and I have no intention of getting sued.
Summary: As Qui-Gon, Anakin, and Bant protect the Republic from Darth Sidious, another Sith Lord emerges – Qui-Gon's presumably dead, former apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi. Can the Jedi save the Republic, or is it already too late? The third story in the Jedi Trials series.
Author's Notes: Rewritten for your personal enjoyment.
Revenge and Regret
By Kekelina
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Chapter Four: The Sith Lord's Plan
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"This is an outrage!"
"That's impossible!"
"I don't believe it!"
"He lies!"
Thousands of voices echoed across the dome-shaped room, each declaring their anger and disbelief. Qui-Gon stood silently in the middle of the Senate Hall in a repulsorpod as the voices raged around him, each seemingly louder than the previous. To his left stood Aayla Secura, her attentive eyes watching the enraged senators carefully, one blue hand resting lightly on her lightsaber hilt, mostly out of habit, but he had a strange feeling that it was there in case a riot broke out.
Not that either one of them expected a riot to engulf the Senate Dome. The senators were not physically violent beings; they preferred to fight with words rather than weapons. And Qui-Gon was positive that they had had more than enough fighting in the past week.
"Why should we believe you? You're a Separatist!"
"Yes so! You want to ruin our Republic!"
Qui-Gon shared a brief glance with Aayla. He had feared this. Although the Separatist movement had been dissolved after the death of General Grievous, members of the movement were still regarded with fear and apprehension. Could he blame them? No, not really. No matter his reason, the truth of the matter was that Qui-Gon had been part of a rebellion against the Republic. He was a traitor, a traitor to democracy and the people he been protecting his entire life. If he were in their position, would he trust him?
Fortunately, he was saved from answering, for Aayla chose that moment to speak. "Master Jinn is a member of the Jedi, and his only goal is protecting the Republic. He came here today in confidence that the senators would put their trust in the Jedi as they have always previously done."
Aayla, though much younger than himself, had wisdom beyond her years, which he greatly admired. So many Jedi found themselves frustrated by the Senate and politics in general (himself included), yet she seemed serene even in such a volatile setting.
"Why should we believe you?"
"In case you've forgotten," Aayla continued, "Master Jinn was the one to conquer Grievous, ending the Separatists. He is also the one who showed us the truth of Palpatine's identity."
"I won't believe it! Supreme Chancellor Palpatine is not a Sith!"
Qui-Gon, astonished by their ignorance and absolute loyalty to the Sith Lord, moved half a step towards the red-in-the-face Senator. "If what you say is true, Senator, about Chancellor Palpatine's innocence," he began calmly, each word slow and serious. He would make these people realize the truth somehow. Even if he had to spell it out for them. "Then tell me, why is the Chancellor not here to prove his innocence?"
The Senator stuttered and squirmed under the logic of Qui-Gon's question. "Well…I…h-he…he…just…T-t-the Chancellor has only ever helped the Republic!" He concluded, though that was neither true nor an answer to his question.
No, Qui-Gon thought to himself quietly. He was hurting it; we were all just too blind to realize that.
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The frigid wind swept over the desolate lands of Korriban, sweeping up anything in its path and twisting it about ferociously. It whistled through the sparsely populated city of Dreshdae, home to those who wished to stay hidden, and soared over the rocky terrain, squeezing through crevices, dancing to silent music. It whipped through the Valley of the Dark Lords, spraying up small rocks and other debris, anxious to leave the cursed place, until it came upon the sight of the darkest place of them all – the ancient Sith Academy.
Founded around the same time as the Great Sith War took place, the Sith Academy was home to such dark beings as Darth Revan and Darth Malak. The Sith Academy, like the Jedi Temple, was used to train Force-sensitives and Fallen Jedi in the ways of the dark side. Killing other students was not a forbidden practice, and backstabbing was commonplace. Unfortunately, infighting ended the legacy of the Sith Academy by turning it into a graveyard of Sith and Sith hopefuls.
It had remained dormant for a millennia; the residents of Dreshdae were far too afraid of its power to seek out the wealth of knowledge it held. It was the perfect place for two Sith to hide from the Republic until the time was right.
Shyracks soared through the Academy; wind beat upon the side of its duracrete walls in fury. Menacing statues glared down from their posts, casting long shadows in their wake. There were no glowlamps to light a path through the eerie darkness of the structure. Only someone who was either suicidal or knew his or her way around could possibly survive walking through a place so strong in the dark side of the Force.
Thankfully for Dementor, his Master was not suicidal.
Lord Sidious had surprised the new Sith with his arrival on the Force-forsaken planet of Korriban, but Dementor had been even more surprised when Sidious commanded him to take a walk with him through the Sith Academy. As Dementor had been on the verge of insanity from having been stuck below ground for so long, he had jumped at the chance for a little fresh air and a change of scenery.
Silently, they traveled the paths traveled by some of the greatest Sith Lords. Their footsteps echoed off the walls and floor. The air in the Academy was cool, nay, cold, but it wasn't the temperature that sent shivers up and down Dementor's spine. Whispers floated in the air around them. Their words were tantalizing…the opportunities they presented him were exhilarating. Sweet words, as delightful as a cinna sweet to children, each one more seductive than the one before. Power, they offered him, more power than he could possibly imagine. And revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge. All he had to do was ignite his crimson blade…that was all it took…and then the galaxy would be his and his alone. How could he deny their appetizing offer? How could he deny himself the power? His fingers inched their way towards his lightsaber hilt, centimeter by painful centimeter, until cool metal in the form of a cylinder met his fingers and –
"Lord Dementor."
Dementor snapped his head towards his Master, a coy smile on the Sith Lord's face, and blinked in confusion. The whispers were gone. Silence reigned. The gale outside pounded the sturdy structure. Critters scurried about in fear of the two humans that had invaded their home. And Dementor's finger rested lightly upon his lightsaber's activation button.
After what seemed like hours, Dementor finally spoke. "Yes, Master?"
"It is almost time," Sidious replied simply, resuming their walk through the giant, triangular halls of the Sith Academy.
"Almost time for what," Dementor questioned as he fell in step with his Master, his black robes swishing behind him.
"To take the Republic for ourselves, naturally," he said as if he was explaining it to a small child. Dementor stiffened at Sidious's tone of voice, but continued walking with his Master as he fingered his lightsaber, shooting a dark glare that would make anybody curl up and die on the spot at his Master from beneath the hood of his dark robes.
"Yes," the Sith Lord continued quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself instead of his young apprentice. "I have foreseen our victory over the Jedi. Soon I shall collect the clones from Kamino as planned, and the galaxy shall be ours."
Dementor tilted his head to the left, eyeing his Master in confusion. What plan? What clones? What in the name of the Force was his Master talking about?
"Clones, Master?" Dementor asked lightly, despite the burning desire for an answer to the puzzles his Master spoke.
Silence reigned between them for a moment or two, their echoing steps the only noise in the dark Academy. Dementor began to think that his Master was going to ignore his question, but finally, Sidious spoke.
"The late Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas was kind enough to create a clone army of Jango Fett for our uses." More puzzles. Why would a Jedi Master create an army of bounty hunters for two Sith? Such an action would have to go through the vote of the Council to get authorization, and Dementor knew that the Jedi Council would never agree to such a thing. Unless…
The puzzle began to unravel inside Dementor's mind, and a small smirk slowly grew on his shaded face.
The whispers returned.
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What Qui-Gon didn't realize about Aayla's calm demeanor was that she despised politics; she was simply a master at the art of masking her emotions.
She and Master Jinn had been standing in a repulsorpod in the middle of the Senate for almost an hour and nothing had been agreed upon. Arguing had been going on for most of the hour, and the arguing had been preceded by angry shouts directed at the two Jedi. How anyone could stand this, she would never understand.
If it weren't for her past lessons of patience at the Jedi Temple…
"We are not under your authority!"
"Representative Gaetal has made a strong point. We are a democracy; we do not have to do as you tell us…"
"I don't see you making any suggestions, Senator."
If her former Master, Quinlan Vos, were here at this moment, she knew his face would be smirking at her. He had always seemed to know how to provoke her, and he enjoyed using her own emotions to teach her valuable lessons. Bringing her to the Senate had been one of his favorite lessons…
But nevertheless, she was a Jedi, and she managed to release her frustration into the Force, giving her the air of peace and serenity. It was perhaps one of the hardest lesson for a Jedi to learn, but after years of practice (and sometimes failure), she had finally perfected it.
"Friends, friends," a quiet but commanding voice said suddenly, capturing the full attention of every senator in the room. Aayla searched for the source of the voice among the throngs of senatorial repulsorpods and finally spotted Senator Bail Organa from Alderaan making his way to the center of the dome, his repulsorpod whirring with every centimeter. "Let us put aside our pointless bickering. The fact of the matter is that the Republic is now without a Supreme Chancellor. Despite our personal beliefs on the disappearance of Chancellor Palpatine, we need to keep the galaxy running as smoothly as possible, lest we let it run away from us like a wild bantha. The Senate needs a leader. I myself do not feel qualified for such a position, but I believe my long-time friend and respected colleague could make this Republic greater than it has ever been. I nominate Senator Padme Amidala from Naboo for Supreme Chancellor."
The dome erupted in cheers at the senator's suggestion. Beside her, Aayla felt Qui-Gon smile as another senatorial pod whirred forward to nominate another candidate. Aayla bowed gratefully to Senator Organa, who nodded back respectfully.
The Jedi's work in the Senate was finished.
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The Other Author's Notes: Better than the original chapter, yes or no?
Author's Edit: 8-21-2007