A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been having my bedroom redecorated and it caused complete chaos. Anyway, the plot thickens…

Chapter Forty-Eight – Unpleasant Truths.

After parting ways with Sabé and Bail, Yoda and Obi-Wan made their way discreetly towards the still-smoking Jedi Temple. It pained them both to see it in such a state, but being Jedi, they let the pain go. Several clones were stationed outside, on the watch for returning Knights, and the two ducked down out of sight.

"What should we do now, Master?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Of little help the element of surprise would be here."

"I agree."

"Perhaps a disguise we need."

Obi-Wan glanced down at his Master, feeling his heart sink at the expression of something that was not far off mischief on the wise green face. "What sort of disguise?"

The clones on duty weren't entirely sure what to make of the hunchback that materialised out of the shadows, clutching what appeared to be a bundle of rags. Being clones, their first instinct was to reach for their weapons. Their second was to bark, "Halt. Identify yourself."

"No, no, no, yer Graces," the hunchback croaked. "Oh, no, I'm bein' here to help, y'see, I'm on yerr side!" He offered the clones a glimpse at the bundle he was carrying. "Lookit I got here, I mean, lookit. 'Sa Jedi babby, ennit?"

"A Jedi baby?" the sergeant repeated, leaning over to look.

"Oooh, sher. Sher, yer Grace. Jedi babby, sher azzell iddiz! Come from outcher Temple, dinnit? Lookit!"

The clones crowded round to peer into the bundle at what did appear to be a baby of some kind. It didn't look like any healthy baby they had ever seen. "Anyone," the sergeant declared, "could grab some deformed kid and claim it's anything they want. How do you know it's a Jedi?"

Before their eyes the 'baby' sprang into life saying curtly, "My lightsabre, the first clue would be, hmm?"

"Please don't try to resist," the 'hunchback' said, standing elegantly upright and brandishing a sabre of his own. "No-one has to get hurt."

The words were lost on the clones. It did not take Obi-Wan and Yoda long to dispatch them all.

"To hide the bodies, no point there is," Yoda stated.

Obi-Wan concurred. "These are clones; an abandoned post is as much a giveaway as a pile of corpses. Lets get to the beacon."

The Temple was silent inside, almost peaceful. But it was littered with bodies, both of clones and Jedi. Obi-Wan and Yoda moved noiselessly through the rooms, their Jedi abilities stretched almost to their fullest in holding back their horror at the sight. Obi-Wan paused to glance down at a collection of young bodies strewn about on the marble floor. Unlike all the fallen Jedi they had seen so far, these were children. Older Padawans than the ones Sabé had seen sent up to the Council Chamber, but far too young to die so suddenly.

"Not even the younglings survived," Obi-Wan said mournfully.

Yoda studied the nearest corpse, frowning severely. "Killed not by clones, this Padawan. By a lightsabre he was."

Obi-Wan knelt down to look, the unspeakable horror of what Yoda's words might mean seeping in. "Who? Who could have done this?"

Yoda simply met his eyes. Know that already, you do.

Wordlessly, they moved on to the Temple's main holocomm centre, where it did not take Obi-Wan long to tamper with the beacon. "I've recalibrated the code warning all surviving Jedi to stay away," he told Yoda.

"For the clones to discover the recalibration, a long time it will take."

On the way out, Obi-Wan paused by the security holo. "Wait, Master. There is something I must know."

Yoda looked up at him, his expression revealing much. "If into the security holograms you go, only pain will you find."

Obi-Wan walked over to the panel. "I must know the truth, Master." Suspicion, even strong suspicion will only aggravate unless the truth is known. Briefly, his finger hovered over the activation button. A part of him didn't want the horrible suggestion that Yoda had presented confirmed. It lingered at the back of his mind; he was not quite brave enough to let it to come forward.

Pushing everything aside, he hit the panel and located the security holo. A robed figure cut down Jedi after Jedi, meeting little resistance. His manner was aggressive and dangerously confident. His conduct was Sith. His face was Anakin's.

"It can't be," Obi-Wan muttered. "It can't be."

The holo image changed, showing Anakin kneeling before Palpatine. "You have done well, my new apprentice," the Chancellor said, in a voice that was not Palpatine's. "Now, Lord Vader, go and bring peace to the Empire."

'Empire?' Obi-Wan thought blindly. 'Lord Vader?'

Yoda let out a deep sigh, leaning on his gimer stick.

"I can't watch any more," Obi-Wan declared, switching the holo off.

"Destroy the Sith we must," Yoda stated without sympathy.

Sith plural, he meant. It was now painfully clear that the Chancellor was the Sith Lord Darth Sidious. A Sith Lord who now had an Empire in the palm of his hand. "Send me to kill the Emperor," Obi-Wan requested. "I will not kill Anakin."

"To fight this Lord Sidious, strong enough you are not."

"He is like my brother. I cannot do it."

"Twisted by the Dark Side young Skywalker has become," Yoda said firmly. "The boy you trained, gone he is. Consumed by Darth Vader."

Obi-Wan fought to keep the anguish from his voice. "I do not know where the Emperor has sent him. I don't know where to look."

Yoda slowly turned and walked away. "Use your feelings, Obi-Wan, and find him you will."

Considering this, only one word came to mind that might possibly be of any help: Padmé.

But before he set out for 500 Republica, he headed back into the Temple, up to his old quarters. There was something he had to retrieve before he was ready to leave that part of his life behind.

As Sabé, Padmé and Bail made their way out of the Naboo box, a pair of pale eyes observed. Moteé, who had spent the session of congress sitting silently behind them, noticed the watcher and forewarned the Senator. So it came of no surprise to the group when Cherek materialised out of the Coruscanti box just as they were passing it.

"Good afternoon, Senators," he began.

A collection of greetings sounded out from the loyalists. As they made polite conversation with Cherek, Bail spotted Mon Mothma exiting the Chandrila box. "Excuse me," he interjected. "I must talk with Mon Mothma."

Sabé watched him go with envy, wishing she could think of a good excuse to run off, but none presented itself. She pulled her attention back to the conversation at hand and tried to look interested.

Padmé was making polite excuses to leave. "We must be heading home now, Senator. This session has thrown up some unusual points."

"Indeed it has, Senator Amidala."

Padmé did not take the bait of further discussion, but merely smiled and turned to go.

"Miss Naberrie," Cherek cut in. "Might I have a word?"

"Just one, Senator?" Sabé retorted without meaning to.

Cherek smiled shrewdly. "Perhaps more."

Sabé inwardly sighed and turned to Padmé. "I'll see you back at the apartment."

With concern, the Senator nodded. "Alright. Don't be too long."

Sabé smiled at the very thinly veiled order to Cherek and accompanied Coruscant's Senator down the corridor. She politely made small talk as they headed up to where the Chancellor's cronies had their offices. As they drew near Palpatine's office door, the newly named Emperor's voice rang out. "Tarkin? I want a word."

Cherek and Sabé drew level with the open door. "It's me, Emperor."

Palpatine glanced up. "Ah. Cherek. I wanted to talk to you too."

Sabé was struck with horror at the sight of his face. What had once been the visage of a healthy, elderly man had changed almost beyond recognition. It was skeletal, deathly pale with deep-set lines and hollow eyes. His new fashion of feature-concealing robes was completely understandable. She tried very hard not to stare, but for the life of her she could not fathom how a Jedi attack could have had such an effect on him.

Senator Cherek flashed Sabé an apologetic look. "Excuse me, my dear. I won't be long." He directed her to a small seating area a little way away and disappeared into the office.

Sabé stayed put for several minutes, watching the streams of traffic pass the windows, wondering just why the Jedi had been sent to arrest Palpatine. She had her suspicions, of course, just as everyone who had signed the petition did. But now that all the Jedi save two were dead, the truth would remain unknown. Her qualms continued to fill her thoughts until she could bear it no longer. Allowing her curious streak to take over, she ventured back towards the office.

"…Naboo is a system we cannot afford to lose," Palpatine was growling. "It has too much influence in the Senate."

"Well, that is easily solved, sir. We simply ensure that they are represented by someone who supports the Empire."

"Which means disposing of who represents them now."

"Surely, then, it is Senator Amidala who should be our first concern," Cherek voiced.

"She will be dealt with. Lord Vader will see to that one way or another. I left her associate to you, as per your request, and have you done anything about it? Not that I can recall."

"I will, Emperor."

There was a rustle of robes as Palpatine stood. "Let me put it in a plainer perspective for you. Either Cherek marries her, or Tarkin disposes of her."

"There's no need to involve Tarkin at this point," Cherek assured.

Sensing that the conversation was nearing its conclusion, Sabé stole back to the window. Presently, Cherek emerged looking somewhat disgruntled. He called her name and she pretended not to hear. Upon his repeating it, she turned and feigned surprise at seeing him standing there. "Sorry, Senator. I was lightyears away."

He nodded and gestured down the corridor. "Please, follow me."

Eventually they reached a large office, richly decorated with a variety of archaic weaponry. Sabé recognised a Gungan staff amongst the collection. 'So this is how Palpatine rewards his lapdogs,' she thought, looking around.

Cherek noticed her gaze and smiled to himself. "Not mine, I'm afraid," he said. "This is Tarkin's office." He sat himself down in the desk chair and waved a hand at the vacant one opposite it. "Please, sit."

"Thank you, I prefer to stand. Do you often invade other people's offices, Senator?"

"Oh I don't make a habit of it. I just happen to admire the décor in here."

"Nice view of the Jedi Temple," she commented.

He glanced at it indifferently. "Yes. Lovely."

Sabé smirked. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I was merely wondering if you had reconsidered my offer of marriage."

"I have not, but I'm afraid my answer is unchanged."

He looked more put out than upset. "Oh very well," he said with a sigh, rising to his feet. "In that case, by order of Emperor Palpatine, Sabé Naberrie I hereby arrest you on charges of being an enemy of state."

Her eyes widened. She had been expecting a second unwanted proposal, but not this. "What? You can't. You don't have the authority."

"Oh, but I do."

"How?"

"Forgive me for never properly introducing myself, my dear. My name is Tarkin. Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin."

Sabé involuntarily backed away. "You're Governor Tarkin?"

"That is correct."

"And Cherek?"

"As a feasible cover he has served his purpose very well."

Sabé narrowed her eyes. "I won't go."

"Then you'll be taken."

She glanced around the heavily adorned office, shrugging off her robe and snatching the nearest weapon off the wall. Taking a quick look at it, she identified it as a Hapan vibrosword. "You mean you'd like to try and kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you."

"I said you'd try."

Tarkin's expression contorted in resentment and he reached for a sword of his own. "So, it has come down to this, has it?" he said, twirling the weapon with expert control.

"It would appear so," Sabé replied, testing the vibrosword's weight. "Although I hope that you don't feel the need to battle every woman who turns down your proposals."

Their blades clashed together as Tarkin made the first move. "You've always been a special case, my dear."

Sabé shot him a glare and attacked, wishing she'd practiced more in her spare time. She hadn't handled a sword since the friendly spar with Obi-Wan some years ago. Tarkin was surprisingly fast, catching her by surprise on a few occasions. At a point when she gained the upper ground, she moved quickly with her blade, cutting through his sleeve and making a deep gash on his arm.

"That," he spat, "will only add to your charges."

"At least then I'll be charged for doing something wrong," she retorted, leaping out of the way of what would have been a nasty blow. Her footing was slightly off when she landed and she was forced to put a hand down to regain her balance. She paid for her mistake with a sharp cut on the cheek.

Tarkin took advantage of her state and kicked her supporting hand out from under her. On pure instinct she rolled, flipping herself back on her feet and bringing her weapon to bear once more. She could not help briefly wondering why someone had not arrived to see what the din was, but she couldn't recall seeing a soul on her way there other than Palpatine. And since Tarkin had shut the door upon leaving the Emperor's office, she doubted that he could hear what was going on. Just as well. If back-up arrived she would be grossly outnumbered.

"You're quite good at this," Tarkin admitted, dodging a vicious swipe from Sabé's blade. "You're actually staying level."

"There's no need to sound quite so surprised."

He gave a short, humourless laugh. "Such confidence. Yes, you are good, but I am better."

Sabé sneered, but in heart of hearts she knew he was right. She wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to hold her own.

Tarkin was spurred on by the glimmer of worry in her eyes. It was not long until he had knocked the vibrosword from her hand, breaking three of her fingers in the process. She cried out in pain and frustration, and he pressed her down on the desk, blade against her throat. "You've lost."

The pressure on her neck prevented her from replying. Desperately she thought, 'Force help me,' wondering what would happen to her now.

It seemed, however, that the Force had heard her plea. Obi-Wan, picking up on her distress, immediately headed towards the Senate. He had just left the Temple in a small fighter to visit Padmé when he had felt Sabé's panic. The Force led him to a particular window. Inside he could see Cherek threatening his wife with a weapon to the throat.

Lying on the desk, dark spots dancing in front of her eyes, Sabé shifted her gaze to look outside before she lost it completely. Seeing Obi-Wan lift the transparisteel bubble on the fighter raised her hopes. She gathered her strength, seized Tarkin's wrists and pushed with all her might. The element of surprise worked in her favour and soon she had gained herself enough space to aim a kick at his knee. He dropped to the ground and she knocked him out with the vibrosword's handle. The heavy weapon also came in handy for breaking the huge window. Obi-Wan hovered near enough for her to jump into the fighter, although it was a tight squeeze with both of them in it.

"Quick," Sabé panted. "They would have heard that."

He piloted the ship away to the landing platform where Padmé stored her sleek Nubian ship. Turning to regard his wife, who was sitting half in the cockpit's spare space and half on his lap, he examined the gash on her cheek. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, still getting her breath back, and leaned against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and asked, "What happened? I thought Cherek liked you."

"Wasn't Cherek," she muttered. "It was Tarkin."

"Tarkin?"

"Yes. He's been using the name Cherek as a cover. He repeated his proposals. I refused. Then he tried to arrest me as an enemy of state. I fought him. He won. Obviously."

"Are you injured?"

She shook her head. "Just a cut and a few broken fingers. I'll be fine. Where were you going?"

A shadow passed over his face. "To see Padmé."

"What for?"

There was a long pause before he answered. "The bodies were still at the Temple. Some of them weren't marked by blaster wounds, but by those made by a lightsabre."

"That Sith I saw," Sabé breathed.

"Yes. And now we know his identity."

"Good. Then he can be found. Was it Sidious?"

"No," he said with care. "It was his latest apprentice, Darth Vader."

"Vader?" Sabé sat bolt upright, banging her head on the hatch but hardly noticing. "I heard the Chancellor…I mean, the Emperor mention him earlier. He said that he would deal with Padmé one way or another. Do you think her life's in danger?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "It could be. I don't know."

"What's wrong? Something certainly is."

"Vader is Anakin," he said emotionlessly. "He's turned to the Dark Side and serves Sidious. He was the Sith you saw. He killed the Jedi. And Sidious is the Emperor with the whole of the galaxy in his hand."

Sabé was struck dumb. It couldn't be true. But Obi-Wan never lied. "Are you…are you certain?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. We have seen the truth too late."

"And you need to ask Padmé where he is?"

"Yes."

"What makes you think she'll know?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Elusive handmaiden to the last. Because she and Anakin are in love. I've known it for a very long time, I've just pretended not to. For Anakin's sake. Perhaps if I'd done something about his attachment earlier he could have been saved. But I couldn't, not without being the galaxy's biggest hypocrite. I should have heeded Master Yoda's warnings. Anakin couldn't handle the emotion."

Sabé bit her lip. She had been an elusive handmaiden. Perhaps now it was time to give it up. "Then there's something you should know. Padmé and Anakin don't just have an emotional attachment."

"What do you mean?"

"They're married. They've been married for three years." She had never seen Obi-Wan speechless before. "There's more," she added grimly. "Padmé is with child. Nearly eight months gone."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Because my first duty is to Padmé, just as yours is to the Republic…was to the Republic. We can't change what we are, Obi-Wan. We'll always place duty before anything else, it's the type of people we are."

"You're right," he said after a pause. "My duty is still to democracy. Despite all that's happened. And I will do what I must to protect it. I'm glad I'll have you with me when it comes to breaking this to Padmé. And I'm glad you told me the secret at all. I have no right to tell you how to perform your duty to your friend."

Sabé let out a deep sigh and kissed his hand. "I'll always try to be here when you feel you need me."

Obi-Wan reached up to stroke his wife's uninjured cheek, studying her for a moment. "I know I'll have to tempt my fate. I don't relish the thought. But whatever happens I'll remember you as you are now; my beautiful voice of reason."

Sabé choked down a lump in her throat and leaned in to kiss her brave Knight. "I love you."

"I love you too. May the Force grant us the strength to do what has to be done."

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A/N: Next chapter it's the M word – Mustafar.