Shades of Gray

Chapter 2

Obi Wan kept his hood pulled well forward, and his hands folded into opposite sleeves. The few aides and secretaries who occasionally crossed his path passed by blindly, easily swayed by his diffuse Force suggestion of invisibility. He was not here; not interesting; nothing to notice. They would not even remember having seen him.

The Supreme Chancellor's private quarters were cold. He pulled the cloak closer about himself. He had never been this far into the man's inner sanctum; but the clandestine nature of his mission, and the fact that he was still dead in the public eye, necessitated a more private milieu for this meeting. The rich crimson tones of the walls did not warm the air; how odd that a man born on Naboo, a planet with a famously temperate climate, should prefer his personal accommodations to be so chilly.

He studied the bronzium frieze on the wall behind him. A battle scene, from the Republic's ancient history. An epic struggle in which the grotesquely sculpted figures of Jedi Knights were impaled and massacred by their foes…a heroic turning point in the old wars, but surely rather graphically presented here. His eyes traveled over the agonized clots and smears of the casting, the hot metal warped and shaped by some ferocious hand, hammered and bent into these exaggerated shapes as though in an ecstasy of sadistic enjoyment, and then left to cool and harden into rough hewn splendour.. He shivered, despite himself.

He never had been one for the modern school of art. There was no accounting for the tastes of politicians. He turned away.

And sill the Chancellor failed to appear. He released a long breath, chastising himself for his lack of patience. It was not as though he were eager to begin this distasteful assignment. He reached for the Force, out of deep-ingrained habit, drawing in its soothing currents….but it was disturbed, as it was everywhere in the Legislative district. A palpable veil of darkness hung over the Republic's heart, a cancer eating away at its vitality. Dooku had told him….on Geonosis….but that thought was for another place and time. Out of deep instinct, he shielded his thoughts and guarded his mind. Something was amiss here. Something….elusive. Just beyond his grasp, beyond the grasp of the entire Council, beyond the grasp of the Light itself, perhaps. He did not trust it.

Trust. Now there was something elusive. He grimaced, remembering how easily, how whole-heartedly, he had given his own trust to Qui Gon Jinn all those years ago. Trust had seemed boundless, ubiquitous, natural as breathing then. Now, it was as rare and precious as the most refined aurodium, and attained with the same degree of effort. Anakin's trust he had fought for, earned, fought to keep, over and over again. He had labored at the forge, hammering and refining that trust for so many years…even after his former Padawan had been Knighted. And yet, despite his heart-rending efforts, that trust had deep flaw lines. It shattered too easily, cracked and spilt beneath blows that should have left only a scratch or a dent.

It was perhaps badly damaged now. Anakin's snarling dismissal of him yesterday confirmed his suspicion that the young Jedi had not recovered from the sense of betrayal engendered by the Hardeen affair. It had been his decision to include Anakin in the deception. Yoda and Mace had been wary, arguing that the boy's attachment would lead him to rash action. He had objected that the ruse would not be a success unless Anakin's reaction were heartfelt.

That had been….a lie.

He released another breath. The Force knew what he had done. He had sat in the circle of the Council and lied. Because of trust. Because of his lack of trust. He knew of Anakin's too-intimate friendship with the Chancellor, of the misplaced paternal feelings his former Padawan harbored for the man. He knew it better than anyone else, and he feared it. He also knew, because Dooku had told him, because the Force told him, that somehow, somewhere, the hidden Lord of the Sith had access to the Chancellor's office, to at least some of what passed therein. By what dark art that might have been affected or sustained, he knew not. But the fact of it was something he could not deny.

If he told Anakin, then Anakin might tell the Chancellor. And that inexplicable leak might pass it on to Dooku's ears. And that would have been an instant and incontrovertible death sentence, an end to the mission and a far worse tragedy for Anakin than the planned farce and mock-funeral had been. He knew this; he saw it with cold certainty. And yet he could not openly express the damning fact to the Council, for to do so would be to condemn Anakin. And that he would not do. Because Anakin trusted Palpatine too well, Obi Wan could not trust Anakin. He had chosen to let his friend suffer for a short time than risk making him the unwitting tool of a disastrous betrayal.

The Council had not made him do it. He had done it himself. And it had cost him a decade of hard-earned trust. That was the severe consequence, the retribution visited upon him, for lying. Lying out of dreadful fear for another. Out of attachment.

He was really no better than a politician, a useless collection of half-truths and hyperbole.

As though on cue, the burnished outer doors slid open, to admit Palpatine himself. He waved his escort of four elite Senatorial guards aside. The blue-armored commandos took up positions outside the doors as they slid closed again, leaving Obi Wan alone with the charismatic and cultured Chancellor.

"Ah," the man beamed, offering an engaging smile and a gracious open-handed gesture, "I must apologize for my tardiness. There is so much to do, I fear, that I often fall prey to the delusion that I am running both sides of this accursed war."

Obi Wan lowered his hood and made the customary deep bow. He did not appreciate dark humor in others. At least not in politicians. "Chancellor."

"Master Kenobi," Palpatine smiled, "I have not seen you since the Festival on Naboo. I must say, your looks are much improved since then."

More dark humor. He was not amused. "I am here to discuss the final details of the mission. The Council has decided to honor your request."

The Chancellor's nod was grave. "Discreetly, of course," he said. "There can be no suggestion at all that the Republic or the Jedi are protecting a drug lord of Hojo Lenn's reputation and power."

Indeed not. "I will see to the matter personally, Chancellor. We have opted for an undercover operation."

Palpatine offered a charming lift of the eyebrows. "You seem to be developing that talent quite enthusiastically. You are quite the actor these days, Master Kenobi."

What a repulsive notion. "I should hope not," he said, curtly. "I will obtain a position as one of Lenn's personal retainers, and stay close to him until the assassination threat has effectively passed."

"Excellent." The Chancellor strolled across the lush carpeting to his desk. "Once the funds transfer to the Galactic Treasury has been completed, I think there will be no further need for concern. A matter of days, at the most."

It was his turn to nod - a much safer response than any words which might come to mind. He did not relish the prospect of playing secret bodyguard to a man who had effectively bribed the Republic into providing his extensive Mid Rim holdings with perpetual security in the form of war ship patrols; the fact that this same man was a criminal of the vilest breed was one he could not afford to think about.

"I am glad," Palaptine remarked softly, as he made his precise way around the edge of the polished desk, "That the Council was able to set aside any scruples they might have about Lenn's business pursuits, in light of the greater good. The money he has offered the Republic could make a key difference in the war. These are times when hard decisions must be made, if we are not to utterly perish."

"The Council is aware of the moral dilemma presented by war," he answered neutrally. The Council was aware; and he personally was nauseated and perpetually heartsick with it.

The Chancellor graced him with his most condescending smile. "I feel secure in the knowledge that this delicate affair is in such competent hands."

Obi Wan bowed again. Flattery was no salve to his conscience, nor did it engender trust. "It is my honor to serve the Republic," he said.

He dearly hoped that was true.

"Ah, my dear boy!" Palpatine greeted his visitor with an avuncular smile.

"Chancellor." Anakin bowed, a bit stiffly, keeping weight off his left knee.

"It is a pleasure to see you, Anakin, I must say. I've read the reports from Pylas Minor and Thermia, and there are no words to express my gratitude to you. I shudder to think what a disaster those campaigns might have been without your…creativity."

He shrugged off the compliment, limped to the broad panoramic window and enjoyed the peerless view of Courscant's metropolitan sprawl. If he strained, he could see the balcony of Padme's apartment in its distant highrise; if he concentrated, he could still smell the silpa spice perfume upon her ivory skin, her silken mahogany tresses.

"I do hope they've granted you a bit of leave, in light of your unfortunate injury," Palpatine murmured sympathetically. "It sometimes seems that the Council drives you too hard, my young friend."

Ha. He schooled his expression, although he had his back turned. "On the contrary," he said tightly. "They don't seem to trust me with anything important."

Palpatine's soft noise of concern held a world of meaning. "It pains me to hear that, Anakin."

He knew he should keep his mouth shut…but the Chancellor was his friend and mentor. He never lied to Anakin, never judged and condemned him, never kept secrets or manipulated him for his own purposes. Unlike his so-called master and the Council. He released a breath of bitter laughter. "They've sent Obi Wan on another undercover mission," he blurted. "Alone."

"Alas." Palpatines' sigh rustled like mournful leaves. "And such a short time ago, you were the golden team. How time changes all things. I do hope…well, never mind."

He spun round. "What? Do you know something about the mission?"

"I?" Now the Chancellor's face twisted for a moment with regret. "I fear the Council does not always deal with me in a completely open manner, Anakin. I do understand how you feel. They really don't know who their friends are, do they?" he paused, came to stand beside the young Jedi. "I was just wondering why you were so deliberately left out. I do hope it isn's because the operation is... ethically questionable."

"What do you mean?" Unease trickled in his veins.

The Chancellor clasped his hands together. "War forces difficult decisions upon all of us - yes, even the Jedi."

Anakin shifted, scowled out the window again. Obi Wan would never do anything in violation of basic moral principles...would he? Or would he? What about Hardeen? He had been involved in a jailbreak during his tenure as the infamous bounty hunter. A jailbreak which had left a swath of bodies in its wake. How many of those deaths had been Obi Wan's doing? What other atrocities had he committed under the alias of Hardeen, to maintain his adopted persona, to gain credibility? War had changed them all.

"I summoned you here to ask a persoanl favor," Palpatine continued. "A task I fear I cannot entrust to the Council."

That had his attention.

"The Senate is about to sign a very important agreement with a fabulously wealthy businessman from the Mid Rim territories - one Hojo Lenn by name. Lenn has contracted for military protection of his holdings, in exchange for a staggering contribution to the war effort in the form of ready cash. His liquid assets would be of great use to us...as you know, the Republic is hard pressed to keep up with the material benefits conferred by Dooku's limitless coffers."

"What does this have to do with me?" the young Jedi asked, cautiously.

"Well." Palpatine strolled acoss the room again, his sumptuous robes of office whispering against the carpet, "I shoud like you to look into these holdings of Lenn's. I should like to rest assured that the Republic is not accepting blood money or other ill-gotten profits. In our eagerness to accept Lenn's offer of financial support for the military, there is a chance that we might compromise our very principles. And that would be a tragedy indeed."

That was why Anakin so admired the Chancellor. He alone stood firm amidst the seething tides of war. He alone would not sacrifice principles to expediency.

"You want me to check out his property and business investments and report back to you - privately."

"Yes. I know you are still healing, of course, but perhaps that will work to our advantage? You are not expecting to be deployed again in the next week?"

"You can count on me." Yes, he could do that. He needed something to do, anyway. Idleness did not suit him.

"I trust you implicitly, my dear boy."

And Anakin knew that was true. Palpatine truted him without condition. "It is my honor to serve you, Chancellor."