AN: WOO! Happy Birthday to me! Quick celebratory note, we're fast approaching the end of this story, and given how I have a lot to tie up, it may take a day or two between chapters to get them up. Here in my world, we are dedicated to quality, and as this thing concludes, I want to hold up to that standard and make sure there aren't any loose ends. Just so you know. Alright, enjoy, my lovelies! As always, your thoughts you share with me are often the highlight of my day. Love you guys, and enjoy!
Chapter 114: Order 66
Ahsoka trudged up the steps of the Jedi Temple, her body covered in dirt and dust and blood, her shoulders slumped in weariness, her arm hanging limply by her side, in far too much pain to move it. The wound in her shoulder, crusted with blood and dirt, never had a chance to heal properly. It was difficult to reach, and there was never enough bacta patches in the escape pods she rummaged through, and never enough time to allow the treated wound to rest like it needed to facilitate healing. In her good hand, she clutched a data stick and held it close to her chest. It was the most valuable thing she had ever owned, though as a Jedi, as a former Jedi, that wasn't saying much. Jedi weren't supposed to have possessions, and the thing she so tightly clutched was more valuable than anything anyone could possess.
The information on the tiny drive had been paid for in blood, had been bought with the lives of three radiant people that never deserved to die. Asajj Ventress, who walked in the dark, only to turn away when she found herself in too deep, a hard thing to do, but she had done it. Ahsoka got to know her, though not terribly well. Ventress had been reluctant to get close to others because of her terrible losses, but when Ahsoka knew her, that was changing, and it became clear that even those steeped in darkness could rise out of it and feel love. She died in the light, sacrificing herself to save the man she loved, a sacrifice that had only bought the man a few extra minutes, and it pained Ahsoka to think that Ventress' life wasn't worth more than that. The exchange was an unfair one. Ventress deserved more.
Plo Koon, who had walked in the light, had always walked in the light, had been her friend, her mentor, the first Jedi she had ever met, the first person to explain to her what the Force was. He had found her and brought her back to the Jedi Temple, took her under his wing when she was a youngling instead of taking a Padawan of his own, instead wishing to guide her and watch her grow, sensing promise and potential in her. They had been fast friends, like the father she could never remember, and as he lived, he had died to protect her, to give her a chance to save herself.
Quinlan Vos, who had walked in shadows with graceful ease and a carefree nature, the mischievous Kiffar always ready for anything, be it joke or prank or fight, and took it all on with a smile on his face. He had been her Master, her brother, her closest friend in the horrors of the war. He wasn't like any Jedi she ever knew. He took to the Code not at all, viewed them as helpful suggestions instead of rules, and he felt deeply, lived for those he cared about, loved those he let close, and he had died for the student he adored. He had lost his way in the end, or found it, she supposed, right into the arms fallen Obi-Wan, the two men tied together in grief and loss, and thought it had hurt her, Quinlan hadn't changed that much. He died to save her, sacrificed his life to give her a fighting chance at survival, stared death defiantly in the face so that Ahsoka could live to deliver a message that would destroy the one that killed him.
I am so proud of you, he had said. There was nothing to be proud of. She had failed as a Jedi, failed as a friend, and she wasn't worth the lives that were given to save her. She wondered how Obi-Wan was faring. The sinister Sith Lord had been weirdly kind to her when last they met, had pulled his resources and influence to help her, though she'd never understand why. He and Quinlan had been closer than close, a bond so deep that not even darkness could sever it. But death did, and it came for Vos, swift and uncompromising, on the red blade of the lightsaber that had been his lover's, held in the hand of a Jedi that Ahsoka once called friend.
Anakin Skywalker. A low growl resonated in her chest as she kept her eyes fixed on the Jedi Temple, her legs shaking and sore after days and days on the run from a relentless hunter. Revenge was not the Jedi way, but Ahsoka was no Jedi, and she felt the need for it now. She didn't know what possessed Anakin, the best and the brightest of the Jedi Order, to fall into darkness, but that thing, that creature that murdered her Master and her friends was not the boy she had known and fought beside, was not the friend she had cared so deeply about. She didn't have the strength to beat him, not when Master Plo had fallen before his blade, but she knew someone who did. When her message was delivered, she'd get her shoulder fixed, and then she'd look for Obi-Wan. The Sith Lord could stop Anakin Skywalker. He had to be able to. There would be no justice for what happened otherwise.
There were way more stairs than she had remembered. Ahsoka looked behind her to see how far she had climbed, and there must have been hundreds of steps. She felt dizzy all of a sudden, faced forwards once again, and after taking a deep breath, she ran the rest of the way, her sore, tired legs complaining, but reluctantly complying. Nobody kept her from entering the Temple, and she jogged down the long corridors toward the elevator that would bring her to the Council. Her lungs were burning, but she was close, and she wouldn't stop now. Her Master's final orders had to be carried out. She had run and hid without rest, she had evaded clones and droids, had stolen a ship, had escaped death just to get here. Survive, Quinlan had said, no matter the cost. And she would.
The feeling in the Temple was...weird, an odd mix of triumphant and morose, of joy and frustration, and she couldn't place why, and didn't spare another thought to it as she stepped inside the elevator that would carry her to the Council. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited, the elevator swiftly rising, but not swift enough for her. What would she even say to them? Would they even believe her? Quinlan had mistrusted the Council because of what they had done to Obi-Wan, and he had passed that suspicion down to his student. They would certainly trust Anakin's word over hers, right? After all, she left the Jedi, had been trained by a Master so close to darkness that he succumbed to it. She gripped the data stick tighter. Three people died for this. It would do what it needed to. It had to.
She strode into the Council Chamber without announcing herself, ignored the stares of the present Masters upon her, and stood before Mace Windu, her mouth drawn in a straight line as she pressed the data stick into his hand with a shaky, relieved sigh. "Anakin Skywalker," she began, "is a murderer." The reaction she got wasn't the one she was expecting. The Masters assembled, Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin, Agen Koler, and Mace Windu, the four best swordsmen in the Order with no exception, looked at each other not with confusion or surprise, but with grim resolve.
"We've heard that from someone else," Mace said, holding up the data stick and observing it carefully. "From Obi-Wan Kenobi. Have you been in contact with him?" Her temper instantly flared and she snarled, her eyes narrowing in anger until Mace put up his hand. "Peace, Ahsoka, I believe you. Though I suspect that you and he are talking about different incidents. He was referring to the massacre on Stewjon."
"Anakin did that!" Ahsoka cried, her hands balling into tight little fists until pain shot up her arm, and she relaxed, gingerly reaching up to hold her wounded shoulder. She inclined her head toward the data stick. "That's the proof of what Anakin's done, there were witnesses." Mace nodded and silently inserted the data stick into the reader on the arm of his chair, the room dimming as the holoprojector turned on, and the four Masters watched in rapt attention at the recorded interviews. Ahsoka couldn't bring herself to watch them, and covered her ears so she didn't need to listen to Quinlan's voice when he spoke. Instead, she looked through teary eyes at the Masters in the room as they watched, their faces impassive and expressionless, as though they were getting conformation on something they had long suspected. For the first time in a long while, Ahsoka felt she could trust the Council.
The recording ended, and the Masters leaned back in their seats, and for a long while, nobody said anything. Ahsoka couldn't believe how tired, how weary they all looked. The war had gone on for a very, very long time, and the Jedi had suffered more than most. "You were on the Enigma," Mace finally said. It wasn't a question. "Tell us what happened."
"Anakin," Ahsoka growled. "Anakin happened."
"Ventress was there," Kit Fisto said somberly. "We haven't figured how she fits into this."
"Skywalker said Vos captured Master Plo Koon," Saesee Tiin said, and Ahsoka felt her eyes begin to run with tears. "He said when he got there, Quinlan had Ventress and Master Plo backed into a corner. Skywalker says he tried to save them, but Vos killed them both."
"He's lying!" she shouted, her breath hitching as she began to sob. "Ventress was there because Master Quinlan forgave her! They were getting back together because they loved each other." She sniffled and wiped her nose on her arm, which only served to get more dirt on her face. "Anakin came on the ship with his clones and started shooting at us. We all tried to fight him, but he was too strong. I got shot, and Master Plo came to protect me." Her eyes narrowed in anger as her heart started to beat faster. "Anakin was going to kill Master Quinlan, and Ventress gave her life to save him! Master Plo fought him to give me and Master Quinlan a chance to escape, and Anakin killed him too!"
"You don't need to say any more, Ahsoka, we understand," Mace said softly, but the Togruta was not done.
"He murdered Master Quinlan!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face. "He bought me time to escape by standing against that monster, and he stabbed my Master through the back! All so I could live to give you that, and it wasn't worth it!" She dropped to the floor, her face buried in her hands as she helplessly sobbed, and Kit Fisto got out of his seat, knelt beside her, and took her into his arms.
"General Grievous is dead," Mace said softly. "At the hands of Anakin Skywalker. He went behind our backs and defied our orders, and if that wasn't enough for you to detain him, I think we can all agree that this is."
"Skywalker must be apprehended," Master Tiin growled, and the other three Masters nodded in agreement.
"I'm going to take Ahsoka to the infirmary," Kit said softly, carefully inspecting her shoulder. "Don't leave without me."
Mace rose, taking the data stick from the reader after checking that the file had been copied, and handed it back to Ahsoka, the Togruta taking it with a shaking hand. "Thank you," he said softly. "It feels like this is the first bit of clarity we have had in a very long time." He turned to face the other Masters. "I'm going to contact Master Yoda about what's happened. Do what you need to get ready and meet back here in an hour. We've got a job to do."
"You said," Anakin snarled as he paced before his Master, "that when Grievous was dead, we could go and kill Kenobi!" He slammed his hand upon the desk where Sidious stood, the Master looking up at the raging man. He wasn't impressed. "Well, Master, Grievous is dead, along with Barriss Offee! He has nobody left!"
"Nobody, yes," Sidious said, nodding in agreement before his eyes narrowed and he pointed at the pacing young Sith. "Nobody except for the Jedi Order, two clone battalions, and an Empire of Mandalorians." He folded his hands upon the desk. "I advise patience, Lord Vader."
"Patience!" Anakin spat in contempt. "If I wanted to listen to some old fool prattle on about patience, I'd have stayed with the Jedi!" Sidious scoffed and rolled his eyes. He had forgotten what it was like to raise a young, newly fallen Sith Lord. It had been such a long time since the contemptuous Obi-Wan Kenobi had fallen into his embrace, the young man bitter and angry and so very, very strong. He was rough, yes, but he could see the beginnings of a masterpiece through hard edges. The boy had sunken himself deep into the Dark Side, had studied carefully and experimented for years on his own, and by the time Sidious had laid his hands on him, little Obi-Wan was already slain by the Sith that would come to be known as Lumis. He was a patient, devious little thing, obedient, loyal and measured and possessing a talent for subversion. Before Sidious even began working on him, Lumis had been beautiful, and when he joined the Sith, he was well accustomed to darkness.
Not so with Anakin Skywalker. Sidious had his eye on the young vergence the moment that he had walked into his office nearly fifteen years ago. The boy had begun his training too late, was too emotional, too fearful for the Jedi, and with so great a potential, he quickly made it his plan to take the boy as his apprentice when he was ready. Then came Obi-Wan, gift wrapped by the Dark Side, and Sidious became distracted, absorbed in training a new, powerful apprentice, and when he hadn't been looking, Skywalker had been stolen from him by Qui-Gon Jinn. He had been taught patience, compassion, understanding, all things that stood to ruin him for the Sith, and with the boy bound tightly to a Master that was just as rebellious as his student, Anakin had no complaint, no challenge that he would have to face alone.
He hadn't intended for there to be distance between them, he had intended for he and Skywalker to grow close, but Qui-Gon had prevented that. He had to arrange for Tarkin to get close to the boy instead so he could slowly be shown that brutal, ruthless tactics produced results, and with his manipulation of Padmé Amidala, he turned a childhood crush into a real problem. His influence had been indirect, but it had worked regardless, and now that Qui-Gon lay dead, Skywalker was left with no support and a mountain of problems, leaving him open and willing for the Dark Side to slip inside his soul and corrupt him.
It was a raging mess.
"Do you really want to go against Lumis knowing that he can call upon allies to aid him? Even alone, he is more than your match." Vader snarled in anger, and Sidious held up a hand. "You need time to train, apprentice. Time to curb your impulsive temper, time to hone your powers into a weapon to be feared."
"I don't have time!" he shouted again. "He has Padmé, that beast has Padmé!" Vader rushed to his Master's side and knelt, took his hand between his and kissed the gnarled fingers. He could feel the Force pulse through his Master like blood, and it was exhilarating. "I need to save her, and I need to do it now, the visions won't stop, the screams won't stop!" He looked up at the older man, the Master's face tinted with disgust, but otherwise blank. "We can do it together! You and I, we'll go and kill him together! We'll kill him and save Padmé, and after that, I'm yours forever!"
Sidious scoffed. He could feel the boy's murderous intent. Skywalker thought he was lying to him, unaware of the truth he spoke. "Do you think I need you to kill Lumis?" he whispered, watching carefully as Vader looked up at him with shock and not a little anger. "Lumis is nothing before me. He is quickly becoming a rival because he fashions himself a Master, and there can only ever be two Sith." He was lying, of course. He had always lied on this matter. Bane's Rule of Two was over, and since the death of his own Master, he had enforced the Rule of One. There was only him. His apprentices' learned a mere fraction of what he knew, and needed no more than that. With him, the Sith Imperative would be complete, so there was no need to pass down all his knowledge to one that would come after him because he would need no successor. Which is why it was such a cruel twist that it was Lumis who had discovered immortality.
"If you can kill him..." Anakin began, shaking and angry until he felt the Force seem to rush out of him, power replaced by complacence.
"Killing him is your task, Vader, if you are to take his place," Sidious said softly, smirking when he found how easily the boy submitted, how badly he craved direction in a life that had become chaotic. "Only the best will serve me as a Lord of the Sith. It would be improper if I were to interfere. It's not the place of the Master to kill the Apprentice, the Apprentice is to defend his title from all who challenge him."
"I'll do it!" Anakin gasped eagerly, swallowing to wet his dry throat. "He's taken everything from me, it's only right I take everything he is."
Sidious nodded, but said nothing. Skywalker was extremely powerful, but a few months of untrained, unfocused rage did not make a Lord of the Sith. He would be a fine apprentice, in time, but he needed tempering and refinement. He was a child suddenly in possession of a deadly weapon that he had only a basic understanding of. He would need to contact Lumis and get him to surrender the girl. An uneasy peace could be made, of this, Sidious was certain. At least long enough to learn Lumis' secret, and when he did, Lumis would have to be killed. He was barely an apprentice any longer and could stand in opposition to his rule, and holding on to him long enough to learn the secret of immortality would be difficult enough as it was.
But it was still manageable. The war was very close to over now that Grievous was dead, and in the birth of the Empire, Lumis would be brought in and reminded of his place, the considerable Dark Side within him grasped by Sidious and forced to submit to the Master. A cowed Lumis and an eager to learn Vader would make for a powerful pair, and if Sidious was forced to choose, the choice was obvious. Vader would stand by his side, his final test being the death of Darth Lumis.
Vader needed years of training, was so, so far from the level of divine perfection of Lumis, and was even further from his own potential. Lumis, on the other hand, was months away from a serious attempt on Sidious' life, and while he did know how to remain young, it had yet to be seen if it could keep him from death. Sidious suspected not, and given the choice, he would make the exchange. A dead Lumis was unfortunate, but the additional time gained by training Vader would allow him to meditate on Lumis' discovery. What's more, Lumis had nothing left to lose, which made him dangerous and difficult to control. Anakin, on the other hand, had a very real weakness, one which allowed him to be easily manipulated. A great deal could change in the time it takes to raise a Sith Lord, and Sidious was both powerful and clever.
It was all hypothetical, though. Lumis could continue the war for a few more months. In that time, he could solidify his alliance with the Mandalorians, continue training Vader, warm him up to the idea of working with Lumis, remind Lumis why he was merely the apprentice, show him that he still had much to learn and much to gain from his Master. Such thoughts had kept Darth Plagueis alive for over a decade, well past the point of his debilitating injury, long after Sidious could have killed him. He needed to know everything, and he had taught his apprentices, Maul, Tyranus, Lumis, and soon Vader, very little of what he knew. He just needed time. Those few months would set everything perfectly in line.
The doors to his office suddenly slid open, and Anakin quickly stood, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared into the cold, hard faces of four Jedi Masters. "I told you he'd be here," Kit Fisto said, and Mace Windu nodded, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the rogue Jedi.
"Defying the Council, Anakin?" Mace asked, his voice colder than the air in the room, and Skywalker growled deeply.
"It was idiotic that I should be contained to Coruscant because of something a Sith Lord said!" Anakin snarled. "I brought us one step closer to the end of the war! I killed General Grievous while you would have had me locked up in the Temple! You should be thanking me."
"Master Jedi..." Palpatine said softly, rising to his feet and his hands extended in an attempt to calm the Masters. "This seems to be a misunderstanding. I fear I'm to blame for sending General Skywalker. We got good intelligence on Grievous' current location, and I thought it too great an opportunity to miss. I called for him. I was unaware he had other orders, but..." Palpatine shrugged. "The business of the Republic is the Jedi's top priority."
For a moment, Mace was silent, his eyes drifting between Anakin and Palpatine, his brow knit as he weighed his options. "Chancellor," Master Windu finally said, "we have evidence to prove that Anakin Skywalker is responsible for the massacre on Stewjon. This matter about Grievous is ultimately irrelevant. He needs to come with us. Now."
Palpatine's eyes widened as he stared at Anakin, the young Jedi tense and shaking and furious. "Evidence?" he muttered. "What evidence?"
"Three witnesses," the Master said swiftly. "He killed them and blamed it on Kenobi."
"It was the Sith!" Anakin snarled, and Mace's face hardened considerably.
"You're right. It was."
"This is outrageous!" Skywalker shouted, stepping back as all four Masters blocked the now locked door and only exit. "Kenobi must have done something, like he always does! Manipulated their minds, or-"
"That doesn't explain what happened on the Enigma," Mace growled. "Three people dead, Anakin, one of them, two of them Jedi Masters, and we can prove you did it."
Anakin gasped, his vision tunneling as fear began to sit in the pit of his stomach. "You found Ahsoka..." he muttered softly before he snarled in rage. "She's lying! Ahsoka Tano was trained by a Sith, she's working for Kenobi! How could you believe her over me!" His breathing became faster as panic began to set in. "You're working for him. You're trying to stop me to save your Sith Master! How long have you been serving Kenobi, Mace?!"
"Again with Obi-Wan," Mace snarled. "Your obsession with him has gone on long enough. Come with us, Anakin. We can get you the help you need."
"I don't need any help!" Skywalker snarled, his lightsaber flying into his hand and igniting, and the cascading chorus of the hiss of plasma filled the air as the Jedi lit their own weapons.
Palpatine looked on with a worried, frightened look on his face, but Darth Sidious was furious. All his careful planning, all his perfect timing, ruined in an instant, all his extra time, all the time he needed consumed by carelessness and a foul temper. He had half a mind to hide under the desk and wait for Skywalker to die, but the Jedi wouldn't kill him. The Jedi would disable him, imprison him, question him, And Sidious had no doubt that he would reveal his identity. Skywalker's fall was complete, but he was bold and brash and impulsive, good qualities when put to purpose, but in the hands of one who ran wild with raging emotion, it was a liability. Furthermore, Vader had no loyalty to the Sith. Not yet.
The Dark Side surged, the vortex of the Force drawing immeasurable power to Vader that Sidious quietly added to, and with a snarl of fury, his blood rushing with strength, Skywalker rushed at the Jedi, the Masters quickly dispersing to surround the furious fallen Jedi, and Kit Fisto jumped over the desk and placed himself protectively between the fighting and the Chancellor. This was a test, Sidious decided. An opportunity to judge the worth of Darth Vader, to see how truly powerful the apprentice was. The more he thought about it, the more Sidious liked the idea. He had been waiting for the right time, the right moment to put an end to the Jedi, the perfect opportunity to not only kill them, but their memory. The Jedi, protectors of the Republic, in league with the Separatists to kill the Chancellor, and thank the Force that Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Clone Wars, was there to stop them.
Vader was still young, and despite his youth and inexperience, and in this moment, he stood to bind the Force nexus to his will. This could still be managed. He could still secure both Vader and Lumis, he would still have his Empire, and he would still destroy the Jedi Order. All the pieces had fallen into his lap, delivered by the Force itself. Too early, perhaps, but better this than none at all. And as a bonus, he had been waiting for a chance to get his hands on a Force sensitive. He needed to attempt what Lumis had accomplished.
Palpatine watched as the three Masters fought against the raw fury of the Dark Side, the Jedi to incapacitate, Vader to kill, and the difference, that slight hesitation to keep from landing a fatal blow made all the difference. Lightsabers arched in the air at blinding speeds, and with three blades against him, Vader drew his second, the green humming to life and wildly slashing. The problem was Mace Windu, the use of the fatal Vaapad allowing him to tap into the Dark Side and draw upon its powers without ever letting it touch him, and emotional Anakin was giving him all the fuel he needed.
It had to end here. Palpatine laid a nervous hand on the Nautolan's shoulder, peering around him at the fight that raged within the office, and he pressed the end of his lightsaber to Master Kit Fisto's back, the Jedi not realizing what was happening until the red blade pierced through his chest with a vicious hiss as it ignited. With a shuddering breath, the Jedi fell, and was dead before he hit the ground. The violent tremor that ran through the Force as one of their own was suddenly slain was enough to knock the other Jedi off-balance, all three gazes darting to the source of the disturbance, and eyes widening as they saw Chancellor Palpatine standing over the body of Kit Fisto, a red lightsaber in his hand and his eyes a pale, blazing yellow.
In the moment of their shock, Vader swept his lightsaber low and severed the legs of Agen Kolar, and the blue blade arched swiftly up to split the Zabrak up the middle as he fell to the ground. With gasps of physical pain as two of their members fell in the span of seconds, the remaining two Jedi drew close together and took a defensive posture, eying the Sith Master and Apprentice standing between them and their only exit. They were trapped, let to stare in astonishment at the Chancellor who ran the Republic, the kindly old man that had existed among them for years, the Sith Master that the Jedi couldn't detect when they stood right next to him. Darth Sidious. The one who had controlled the Jedi since the war began.
It was over, and Mace knew it, felt it when the Force was suddenly torn open and darkness flooded through, so thick it was hard to breathe, so oppressive he could barely feel his connection to the Force at all. He rose his purple saber and pointed it at the Sith, Sidious calm and measured, Skywalker shivering and moaning in pleasure as the darkness filled him with intoxicating power. He was going to take as many of these Sith bastards down with him as he could. Windu stood firm and resolved, finding his focus quickly, but Saesee Tiin was not so fortunate. For a very long time, the Iktotchi had lived in this darkness, had been tortured in it, had been made to stare at the barely alive husk that was Master Eeth Koth, and though he felt he stayed strong, it had effected him deeper than he knew. Now, in the face of Darth Sidious, Master of the Sith, his mental defenses crumbled as past trauma flashed through his mind.
A moment later, and the Sith attacked. Saesee Tiin never regained his balance, and he did the best he could to fight against Vader's onslaught, the man laughing and cruel and gazing at him with glowing yellow eyes. The Sith knew the Jedi was done, and now, he was playing, toying with the prey he had caught as he sliced off one horn, then the other, and only ended it when the Iktotchi, in a moment of resolve, thrust his blade forward, overextended, and lost both his hands for the effort. One swift, sweeping slash, and Vader's blue blade bit through the Jedi, severing him in half, and with only one left, he turned his yellow gaze on Mace Windu.
On reflection, Mace Windu realized, it made a great deal of sense that Darth Sidious was as fast, as athletic, as aggressive as he was, despite being an old man. The Sith apprentices strove to kill their Masters, and somehow, Obi-Wan hadn't killed Sidious yet, which could only mean that this particular Sith Lord was powerful beyond his comprehension. It took the full measure of his focus to avoid the swift red blade, and for a moment, as he drew in the darkness around him to fuel him, Mace thought he might have a chance. Maybe, just for a moment, with his focus clear and balanced within the Force, the Korun could best the Lord of the Sith in single combat. This wasn't like Haruun Kal in the fight against Kenobi, where the laughing Sith had gotten in his head, had fought like a Jedi to cripple his ability to draw upon the darkness necessary to fuel Vaapad. Here, his intention was clear. Here, with the real intent to kill, Mace Windu could win against Darth Sidious.
But it wasn't just the Sith Master.
Anakin's blue blade swung at Mace's head, and Windu only just barely ducked out of the way, the Jedi retreating as the Sith pursued, Skywalker laughing and yellow eyes wide with excitement, the rush of the Dark Side brought by his murders intoxicating him with power. The attack was fast and brutal, and Skywalker was fighting better than Windu had ever seen, the green and blue blades trailing light through the air as they slashed down at the Jedi in a flurry of spins, jumps and flips that characterized Anakin's highly athletic style. The boy seemed to be coming from multiple places at once, and Mace expertly maneuvered his blade to block each strike. He saw a flash of blue out of the corner to his eye off to the left, and he quickly dodged right as lightning arched through the air, striking the ground right where he had been standing a moment ago. His dark eyes quickly darted toward the Sith Master, the man chuckling in amusement as he watched the Jedi struggle.
Anakin jumped to Mace's other side, forcing the Jedi to turn and face him, and for just a moment, Windu couldn't see the Sith Master, but he could feel him. He circled his blade around Anakin's knocking the savage stab away from his chest, and Mace quickly spun around, purple blade extended as he blocked the Force lightning that Sidious aimed at him, too late to dodge out of the way, and Mace realized his mistake less than a second after he made it. He was trapped, his lightsaber occupied with protecting him from the Sith Master's lightning, and he couldn't move, lest he be electricuted. Skywalker's blue lightsaber came down on Windu's extended arm, and the Jedi Master was engulfed in lightning as his arm dropped to the ground.
One low, sweeping cut severed the Jedi's legs, and as he fell, Darth Vader brought the other blade through his remaining arm. He brought his lightsabers up, blue and green thrumming beside each other and sparking as they touched, and prepared to plunge them down when Sidious approached and commanded him to stop. Rage gripped Vader as he looked at the defeated Jedi, and try as he might, he found he couldn't bring the blades down upon the traitor, couldn't end his miserable life, and instead, found himself shutting the sabers off and kneeling, head bowed as Sidious approached.
The Master raised his hand, lifting Windu into the air with the Force, and with a growl of triumph, he closed the Dark Side around the Master, violently shattering his crumbling defenses and entered his mind. He had been dreaming of this moment for a long time, and the moment got only sweeter when dear, sweet Lumis told him how to steal the Force out of a living being, and there were little in this world more abundant in the Force than Mace Windu.
The Jedi was dying. The Force was leaving him, dispersing back into the energy that surrounded them all, but Sidious followed it back deep within him, grabbed the strands of the Force and traced it back to its source in the deepest part of the Jedi's fading being. He had done this before to inflict pain, to send agony through life itself and torture a being until the Force burned right out of it. He reached out and grasped it, took it into his hands as Lumis had said, and with a deep breath, Sidious drew the power within himself. He was met with resistance, which he did not expect, and he opened his eyes and looked down at Mace Windu, his face contorted with pain, but his dark eyes fierce and defiant. With a snarl of rage, Sidious grasped the Force harder and pulled, the powerful resistance giving way as the Master ripped the life out of the Jedi and brought it into himself.
It was warm, euphoric, an immediate rush of hazy, addled pleasure that rushed through him, the effects intense and immediate like a powerful drug that poisoned his blood and left him wanting for more. And then the warmth turned to fire, burning and blistering, and in Sidious' hands, the Force became corrupted, the soft, white light of life turned mottled and gray as it rotted in his hands, and he could feel himself change, though instead of the rush and vibrancy of youth, he felt his skin begin to crawl, watched as his hands seemed to dry up and become wizened and pale, could feel the skin on his face becoming wrinkled and deformed. With a howl of pain and rage, Sidious let go of the Force, but it wouldn't let go of him, the rotting sludge that was once life wrapping itself around his hands, his arms, his entire body, and it threatened to drag him under. This wasn't life, this was killing him, the Force itself snapping back at him for the attempt, snarling and vicious and uncompromising.
With a scream of fury, Sidious pushed outwards with the Force, the power of the blast so strong it threw bodies against walls, broke windows, sent chairs flying, and he could feel the corrosive touch of the Force release him as it was burned away. Gasping for breath, Sidious touched his face and could feel the deformity, his skin raised and wrinkled, a cruel mockery of the youth he had tried to obtain. Lumis had either lied to him, or in this aspect of the Force...Sidious lacked the talent. It was possible he had done it incorrectly, that he had missed something that Lumis had done right, but he couldn't try again. Not like this, not when another attempt very well may kill him. Cold rage filled him, his eyes narrowing in anger as he calmed his racing heart. He would find a new way to immortality, since Lumis' way didn't work. Lumis' youth was...mocking him. The Force, such a difficult mistress, had finally bit him. The Force was using his dear, sweet apprentice to insult him, and there was only one thing to be done with such a slight.
"Master..." Vader gasped, quickly rushing to his Master's side and laying a caring hand upon his shoulder. "Master, what happened?"
"The final revenge of Mace Windu..." he growled softly. "It's time to end this, my apprentice. The Jedi are traitors to the Republic. They would stop you, apprehend you for killing General Grievous."
"I've long suspected they've been serving Obi-Wan," Vader said quietly. "They're infected, corrupted, the lot of them. They need to be destroyed." Sidious said nothing as he walked over to his desk and pulled open one of the drawers and removed a holodisc and placed it upon the bare surface. Vader moved to follow him, but Sidious raised a hand, and the apprentice stopped in his tracks, observing the Sith Master as he opened a com channel, and shortly after, the tiny blue hologram of Darth Lumis flickered to life over the disc. Lumis' head was bowed, and when he looked up, he looked completely despondent before shock crossed his face.
"Master!" he hissed, and Sidious glowered at the man, bitter and angry that what worked for his youthful apprentice failed him so terribly. "What happened!"
"Never you mind that, Lumis," Sidious hissed. "What happened on Utapau." The concern fell from the youthful face, his expression blank and forlorn and lonely, and for the fleetest of moments, Anakin Skywalker felt a twinge of pity. The man was completely, hopelessly alone. The feeling faded, and he hardened again, and he felt his chest swell with glee. Soon enough, the man in the hologram would be dead, and he'd have his wife back. Soon. Soon.
"Grievous and Barriss are dead," Lumis whispered, and Sidious sighed in irritation, the man in the hologram wincing as he did.
"I said I needed more time, and you said you could drag the war out longer! You have failed me, Lord Lumis." He sneered in disgust, but Lumis wasn't looking. "You are a disappointment."
"Well, that's a relief," Lumis drawled, his clipped accent affecting a lazy mein, but it failed to conceal the obvious pain he was in. "I thought I was the only one that was disappointed in me. It's nice to know I'm not just being hard on myself. Again."
"Your levity does you no credit," Sidious sneered, but some of his anger had faded. Lumis' personality had always been infectious. "With Grievous dead, we must move quickly. Go to Raxus and kill the Separatist leaders."
Lumis' eyes widened and his jaw fell slack, and for a moment, he was speechless. "So soon?" he asked carefully. "Master, I can drag the war out, I-"
"We are out of time," Sidious interrupted. "Put an end to the Separatists, and I will see to the execution of the Jedi. Return to Mustafar when you have completed your task and wait for me there. We will enter this new Empire together."
He started to protest, then shut his mouth and inclined his head. "As you wish, my Master." The hologram faded out, and Sidious stood and stared at the holodisc for a long while.
"Darth Vader," the Master hissed softly, and the apprentice quickly moved to Sidious' side and knelt beside him. "Go to the Jedi Temple. Bring your clone troopers with you. Catch the Jedi there off-balance and kill them all. Root out the corruption within the Republic, use their deaths to fuel your power in the Dark Side. Only then will you be strong enough to stand against Darth Lumis."
"Kill the Jedi..." Vader softly repeated. "I understand, Master."
"After that," Sidious growled, "your first real test will begin. Show me your worthiness of being my apprentice by killing Darth Lumis, and know that if you fail, there will be no saving Padmé." Vader shivered, a pitiful whimper in his throat as he bowed his head.
"It will be done, Master," Vader whispered, and a sinister smile crossed Sidious' face as he activated the holodisc, the image of a clone commander floating above it. While Lumis killed the Separatists, while Vader killed the Jedi, Chancellor Palpatine would become Emperor Palpatine. Everything was in line, all the pieces in place, all the cogs in motion. All that was left to do was trip the switch.
"The time has come," Sidious said softly, slowly, reverently, tasting the words that felt like victory. "Execute Order 66."