Where Revolution Begins

After months of capture, Dooku decided that he had learned enough. To be clear, it wasn't enough, it wasn't the stream of information he had as the political leader of a new confederation of systems and grand general of a droid army; nor was it even close to the paltry information he was accustomed to as a Jedi; but he had "enough."

Enough to know that after years of being away the Jedi had not changed a bit - and that included protocol on how prisoners were treated. He may not have known which cell he was in exactly, but he knew what level, what location, the quickest routes out, the least used lifts; he knew all of it. He had no particular plans for escape, of course, but it gave his mind an exercise to play with. He knew that Sidious had miraculously placed Skywalker on the High Council. He knew that the Council was trying to lure Sidious out but to no affect.

From this, he had gleaned even more information. Sidious was waiting; waiting for Kenobi to die, waiting for Skywalker to turn so that he could fulfill his vision. The Council could ill afford to wait; Sidious' plans for the war had worked marvelously, the Jedi were thin and ready to break at a moment's notice, and so they were doing everything in their power to lure Sidious out, having no true idea what they were dealing with and yet taking the gamble anyway. Fools.

It was a stalemate. It all hinged on Skywalker turning, everything would fall into place once that happened, and yet it was not happening. Kenobi was preventing it though he was utterly clueless that he had become such a pivotal piece. After many weeks of meditation on what to do, Dooku realized - much to his consternation, that there were two things he simply did not want to see. He did not want to see the remarkable Kenboi die; his connection to Qui-Gon was too vivid and too important to him, whatever his feelings to Kenobi personally were. Secondly, he could not see Sidious' plans come to fruition without Dooku's interference. That meant, ultimately, that any thoughts he had of turning the whelp Skywalker were counterproductive.

Instead, he had to force Sidious' hand and watch the chaos unravel itself. In some ways that was beneficial; it showed that he had "switched sides" and furthered his own plans to kill Sidious and take over his position.

For this particular interview, Windu and Yoda were there, of course, and Plo Koon - reticent often in meetings but prone to black-and-white views of things; Dooku always liked him. There was also a Togrutan Councilor, Shaak Ti; Dooku remembered her as a very young Padawan with a gift for Form II. He had assessed them for several hours over the course of the interview, but ultimately decided that who was there was irrelevant.

"I think the time has perhaps come for me to reveal something important," he said, sweeping his arm to one side in a grand gesture. The effect was lost without a hand - the Jedi were not comfortable giving him prosthetics, but he refused to stop being anything less than impeccable even if his body was no longer perfect.

"And what would that be?" Windu asked, dark eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Why, the identity of the Sith Lord, of course," Dooku said with utter gentility; taking a moment to absorb their shock, then their disbelief, then their speculation.

"And what do you want in exchange?" Yoda asked with narrow eyes.

"Ah, therein lies the rub, don't you agree?" Dooku asked pleasantly. "I can give you the information you need to finally lure my former master out from hiding, but what price are you going to pay to see it carried out? There is also the consideration of myself," he added. "After all, I am going to betray one former master of another; the question quickly becomes whom I loathed the least: you for your betrayal of the very Order you think you're upholding, or he for trying to see me replaced?

"Suppose this, then," he said, sneering and watching Mace - for all his tightly covered façade - twitch in irritation and impatience. "What if I betray neither? What if, instead, I give you a hint towards the Sith's identity and, then, if you cannot guess his identity, I reveal his name because you were too stupid to figure it out? How does that sound?"

Silence hung in the room.

"Very well," Dooku said. "You have already surmised that the Sith is in the Supreme Chancellor's inner circle. This is correct. What you haven't realized is that the Sith is much closer to Palpatine than you could even imagine; and you have yet to even suspect him."

The four stared at him, in Windu's case impatiently waiting for more, but Dooku decided that was all they needed.

"If you cannot figure it out by the end of the week; then by all means return. Though, I would suggest those two: Skywalker and Kenobi, for consultation. They are very entertaining in that respect." He leaned back in his chair. "I look forward to seeing you soon."

Anakin was irritated. More than irritated. He loved and respected Palpatine dearly, but there were times when he was forced to remember that the man had led a life of privilege. Why else would he invite Anakin to a meeting at the opera of all places? On what planet did an opera sound like a good place to have a business meeting? It stank of ulterior motives and secret agendas and, at the end of the day, Anakin didn't really want to think that one of his beloved mentors was capable of that.

Then he remembered that he, Obi-Wan, and Padme were having backdoor meetings, too.

It irritated him even further.

Not for the first time, he went through his mental checklist of things he needed to keep track of:

First: that Force-be-damned, poodoo-sucking Sith Lord was in Palpatine's inner circle and feeding his poor mentor a ridiculous pack of lies.

Second: Padme was part of an inner council of resistance to Palpatine's - meaning the Sith's - political machinations and trying to create change in the Senate.

Third: The Jedi were doing the exact same thing as Padme and the others; but they were entirely separate from Padme and didn't want anyone to know that they were maneuvering to block the Sith's goals. As a side note the Jedi didn't even know what the Sith's goals were.

Fourth: Ahsoka; poor, sweet, impetuous Ahsoka, had gotten stuck as the middleman for the Senate and the Jedi, meeting and making good impressions on Padme's resistance while keeping Anakin and Obi-Wan in the loop so that at least some of the Council knew what was going on.

Fifth: The Council actually didn't know about the Senate's inner resistance, because Obi-Wan said they had to wait until the delegation was comfortable with the idea.

Sixth: Obi-Wan, for whatever reason, had caught the eye of that Force-be-damned, poodoo-sucking Sith Lord and said Sith Lord was trying very hard to kill him. There had already been one attempt on his life at a political function of all places, putting Padme also in danger and Ahsoka and his unborn child.

Seventh: In an attempt to rout out the Force-be-damned, poodoo-sucking Sith Lord, the Council, in their infinite wisdom, wanted to appear weak and had put Obi-Wan in charge of hunting down Grievous and sent Yoda to Kyshyyyk.

Eighth: A freaking vision of all his closest loved ones in agony in one way or another (or in Padme's case, dying) had been plaguing him for over a week. Sleep? No way. He hadn't slept in so long, there were bags under his eyes, his sense of time was screwed, and even Padme was starting to show signs of lack of sleep since his nightmares always sent him jolting out of bed, waking her. Obi-Wan was taking every free moment he had to research things in the Archives about visions so that they could have some idea of what to look for about this freaking vision.

Etc. Etc. Etc.

Needless to say, Anakin had a lot on his plate. Padme's latest visit with a healer had gone well, showing both her and the baby were doing well. While this helped ease Anakin's mind, that didn't mean a damn thing when it came to external factors that could go wrong.

Really, was it so wrong to want everyone he loved to stay healthy and alive? He'd barely had a week to mend things with Ahsoka after her hurtful realization that he, Obi-Wan, and Padme had been keeping some very large secrets from her. She still stung once in a while and Anakin did what he could to soothe it as best as he could. Padme was stressed to the extreme and good reports aside, Anakin didn't want to think about what that could do to the baby. Obi-Wan, thankfully, hadn't been sent on any missions to find Grievous, but it could still be done at a moment's notice and something about that didn't sit well with Anakin. At all. None of this.

But as he stepped into the Chancellor's private booth, he took a deep breath and pushed it all away. He could worry later, when he was deep in meditation with either Ahsoka or Obi-Wan and the Force could wash away his anxiety.

"Ah, Anakin, so good of you to come," Palpatine greeted warmly, as he always did.

"Chancellor," Anakin bowed, none of his irritation showing. "You sent for me."

Palpatine nodded, and turned to his companions. "Leave us," he commanded. Not asked, no requested, commanded. Anakin blinked. Palpatine was Chancellor, and he would always give orders so that the Republic could keep functioning, but they always sounded polite. Genuine. Kind and gentle. There was none of that in those two words, only a cold command from one higher in station to those below him. Which might have made sense, given that those with the Chancellor were people he worked with in the Senate. The Speaker and _. Technically, Palpatine was higher in station, at least in terms of job. But the Republic was about making people equal, so that all had a voice. It didn't always work well, but it was something that Anakin had appreciated when he'd started learning back when he arrived at the Temple. The Republic outlawed slavery for a reason.

But Palpatine had always smiled and told Anakin that he was above others as well. Something he'd appreciated growing up, since he'd been below everyone as a slave. But now, hearing him command people he worked so closely with, and with such a cold voice, was a little startling.

That wasn't the Palpatine that Anakin knew and respected.

Anger swirled briefly. This was all that Sith's fault. He was the reason that Palpatine sounded so cold. If only Anakin could find him.

With the box empty, Palpatine gestured to a seat by his side, something Anakin was more familiar with from his days as a youngling.

Anakin looked out at the Mon Calamari as they swim from one zero gravity pool to another with bright streamers flowing behind them.

"My boy," Palpatine started. "I have good news. We have discovered the location of General Grievous."

Obi-Wan, without many of the filters they usually keep on their bond, was already turning attention to look through Anakin's eyes after a soft request for permission that Anakin granted without hesitation.

"Sir," Anakin quietly replied. "I must tell the Council immediately. We must catch that monster to finish the war."

The old man nodded, turning a strange smile over to him. "We all seek the end of this war. And soon. My boy, how are you? You look... tired."

Anakin frowned, knowing he looked much worse than "tired".

"I have many duties, Chancellor, with a Padawan, the Council, this war. With Grievous found and soon caught, I will be very well indeed."

"Indeed."

Anakin started to stand. They had much work to do if they were going to get Grievous, but Palpatine put a hand on his arm. The young Jedi sat back down. "You seem stressed, my boy; tell me, is there anything I can do to help?"

That was the Palpatine he knew, the one who listened to all of his problems, the one who worried about others. Anakin almost instinctively relaxed; so comfortable he was with this Palpatine. Almost. He didn't relax, however, because he knew that he could not take advantage of the old man in that way. He could not dump his problems onto the Chancellor's lap; not with the Sith looming over their shoulders in the shadows. He could not compromise everything they were working for.

... What were they working for? It was hard for Anakin to keep it all straight sometimes.

He smiled softly, perhaps a little sadly, and shook his head. "It's nothing for you to concern yourself with," he said.

"Come, come," Palpatine said smoothly, "We don't keep secrets from each other my boy; you've told me everything before, why should that be any different now?"

Anakin squirmed at the question, asking Obi-Wan mentally how he could answer that and still keep his conscious quiet. His former master could offer no platitudes other than the truth: that Anakin couldn't say; and that just made the Jedi feel even worse.

Palpatine sensed his unease, however, and pulled his gaze back to the opera. "Perhaps I should take a guess," he said softly, genially, "to spare you the guilt of confession."

Anakin sank back into his seat, feeling like a child.

"You are under a great deal of stress, of course. I'm asking you to watch the Jedi, they are asking you to watch me most likely. Double agents never have an easy task, their loyalties are so strained that ultimately they are trusted by no one, to be cast off when the job is done." Anakin bristled at that; the words striking at an unrealized fear of his - but Obi-Wan was already offering support and reassurance along the bond, reaffirming that he at least trusted Anakin with his life. "You're stuck here on Coruscant, and I know you'd rather be on the front lines. Tell me, how is Master Kenobi fairing? I'd heard about the Separatist assault on Corellia, Master Kenobi was very badly hurt I'm told. Is he healing?"

"He's doing fine, Chancellor," Anakin said, happy at least to share this good news. It was also sticking it to the Sith, letting the bastard know that killing his master was going to be more than a little hard.

"I'm glad to hear of it," Palpatine said, smiling sincerely. "It so restrictive, putting you in this position; I'd rather have picked someone else but you're really the only Jedi I trust. Even Master Kenobi, for all your faith in him, I fear is in on the plot, and I can only imagine how their plans are fairing now that they have Count Dooku."

Anakin frowned. "Sir?"

"Count Dooku is in your custody; I can only assume his interviews are going badly, otherwise the Jedi would have turned the man over to the Senate for his public trial. Tell me, is he still alive or has the High Council quietly disposed of him?"

Anakin didn't even try to hide the balk. Obi-Wan too, in a corner of his mind, was groaning at the very suggestion.

"Chancellor," Anakin said, disgust in his voice, "Count Dooku is just fine. He's been given the best medical treatment, he's amputations are healing nicely, and he's more than happy to dance circles around the Council in debate. He gives very little information away and the rest is spent talking in riddles; like how he's going to reveal the Sith's identi-"

Anakin! Don't say another word!

Anakin blinked, sending back, Why not? He has a right to know.

Yes, he does, but the Sith doesn't. I know the stress this is placing on you, but you must keep your mouth closed.

The Jedi bit his lip hard, dipping his head down and pressing his forehead into his knuckles. Palpatine was watching him, he knew that, but he just needed a moment to feel before he could control himself. He mentally shrieked at the unfairness of it all, railed and moaned against the position he'd been put in and the terrible things he was doing to damage his relationship with an admired mentor. Anakin just needed to be angry, just for a moment, to let the dragon out of his chest and give it room to quail and roar before he could take a deep breath and settle his mind down. There weren't even any droids he could take his frustrations out on, and he mentally worked himself through the most difficult battle he could imagine, putting himself through all his paces and using up all his energy. Above everything else, he needed control, he knew it; he did, and so he did everything in his power to get control before he started swinging his lightsaber.

Dimly, across the choked bond, he felt Obi-Wan's deep sadness and understanding, before politely putting his filters back up and allowing him the privacy he could grant.

It was several minutes later that he sat back, straight, and glared menacingly at the opera, the Mon Calamari as they jumped from bubble to bubble, telling a story he didn't know nor cared about. Taking another deep breath, he finally turned to Palpatine, who was looking at him with cautious impassivity.

"I don't blame you," Palpatine said finally, sighing and turning back to the opera. "You have every right to be angry. Anger is a powerful emotion, and many people in history have done great things with it. Passion, too, makes a person capable of enormous feats, and I know that the day will come when you do these things to. I am reminded of the tragedy of Darth Plageus."

Anakin frowned, the foreign name breaking through his headache and perking his interest. "Who?"

"He was a great being," Palpatine said, watching the opera. "His anger and his passion gave him powers so great, it was said that he could even stop his loved ones from dying."

... What?

... What?

Visions of Padme in his dream filled his mind, her crying and desperation, Obi-Wan by her side - Wait, Obi-Wan was there? - begging her to hang on while he was dying with emotional pain. Padme, she'd died in the dream... was there a way to prevent that? To stave off at least one facet of the coming atrocity? Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, he didn't know how to help them, but could he really, really, stop Padme from dying? Stop the most terrible part of his vision? How...? Where...? Was it even possible?

Anakin voiced his question, and felt chilled when Palpatine, face cast in stark shadows of the dim light, turned slowly to him to answer.

"Not from a Jedi," he said simply.

The moment hung in the air, heavy, Anakin staring at his mentor with new eyes. How did he know this story? Where did he come across it, when did the Supreme Chancellor even have time to look up a story like this? Questions were firing back and forth in his head, too fast to completely process; he was overloaded with emotions he couldn't name. He needed to think, and Obi-Wan wasn't there to spur him on to it.

Suddenly, the moment past, and Palpatine gave a warm, friendly smile. "Don't worry my boy," he said lightly. "I'm sure you'll figure out what to do. You know you can come to me whenever you wish. I'll always be here."

Anakin blinked, all the emotion bringing up a mental picture of Palpatine prone to a red lightsaber. He shook the imagination off, growling at the thought. "Sir," he said softly, his tenor voice trembling with feeling. "Sir, it's not safe for you here."

Palpatine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Sir, Chancellor, I'm not the only one under stress," he replied, using his will to focus on this task. Padme had the right idea, and he would do everything in his power to keep the people he admired safe. He took a chance. "Sir, you've been in charge of the Republic since I was nine years old; you're over sixty now. I can't even imagine the stress you're under. I'm worried about you."

Palpatine smiled again, reaching out and putting a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "I manage just fine, son."

"Sir, it's dangerous for you," Anakin pressed, leaning forward. "Even putting your age and your health aside, there's one thing we can be sure of: the Sith wants control of the galaxy. You hold the highest political position in the Republic. That makes you a target. You're not safe."

To this, Palpatine actually laughed. "My dear boy, this wouldn't be the first time I've received threats on my life. I've handled it before; I'll handle it now. I have complete faith in my security."

"You shouldn't."

"And why is that?" Palpatine asked in a casual air. "What do you know that I don't?"

Cornered, Anakin threw discretion to the wind and plunged forward. "It's circumstantial, sir, but there's evidence that the Sith is in your inner circle. We don't know who yet, but he's been orchestrating things for years. With the way things are it wouldn't take much to completely take over. Sir, I don't want you in the line of fire when that happens. You need to retire."

Palpatine's face completely closed off, however, and he leaned back in his chair, away from Anakin. The action hurt deeply.

"How convenient," the Supreme Chancellor said. "A Sith in my office. Let me tell you something, Anakin: if I actually believed in the idea of the Sith and I learned he was in my office, do you know what I would do? I would ask him what was necessary to end the war. Who and what you are, is irrelevant, it's a founding principal of the Republic, so I don't care if somebody is a Sith. If they have a good idea how to save the Republic and restore order, I'll listen to it. That is what is important: that things get done, not who is suggesting what. Not even how it's done!

"Anakin, I will tell you right now, I don't think a Sith is in my office. I do think my life is in danger, and that the Republic is in danger, but not from some thousand years dead phantom. And I won't back down because the Jedi think it will further their agenda if I'm quickly removed from a job that I've worked for, for over a decade."

Palpatine sighed, suddenly looking very, very old. He put a hand to his head, rubbing his crisp white hair. The harsh shadows and dim light made him look almost ghostly. "I'm sorry, Anakin," he whispered. "I didn't mean to take my aggression out on you, but you can tell that damn Council that I won't be retiring any time soon, not when the Republic needs me."

And then, like at the beginning of there meeting, Palpatine gave an order:

"Leave me."

"Sir, I didn't mean to-"

"No, Anakin, I'm sure you didn't," Palpatine said, still completely closed off. "But your intentions are irrelevant. Intentions are always irrelevant; it is action that matters, and now you've shown me where your loyalties lie. Whatever you feel for the Republic, you will follow the Jedi first, and that means I can't trust you. Leave me."

"But-"

"Leave."

Anakin found himself compelled to comply.

Sidious had learned what he needed. Dooku was going to betray him and needed to be dealt with firmly. Skywalker could not turn with the Jedi still alive, but the seeds were there. Anger had many causes, and if arrogance had been stomped out of the boy, then there were certainly other means to ignite rage.

Genocide, for example. He had dropped enough hints to the Council, he could drop more if he needed to.

They would be at his office soon.

Author's Note: Okay. Start playing Battle of Heroes and Duel of Fates from now until the end. Because things start to get interesting.

Next week: Gee, what could it be... Order 66 anyone?