Obi-Wan considered Fett's comm, hesitant. He had managed to mobilize the assets at his disposal, but there was still a call to make—the most important of all.

"Dooku is a slippery bastard. You won't find him easily," Fett said.

It was like a complex game of Dejarik: when the opponent was good, it was necessary to create openings to hope to win. But this meant taking risks that could prove fatal, and trying to anticipate more than a few moves in advance required considerable mental resources.

But reality wasn't a Dejarik board: there were so many variables, so many situations that could simply go wrong. It was impossible to foresee everything. Obi-Wan breathed and closed his eyes, trying to find reasons not to go down the path he was about to take. It's the only choice, whispered Old Ben's voice.

The only way to preserve as many lives as possible. But it required sacrifice. For the greater good. Obi-Wan sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "All I have to do is make sure it's in his best interest to meet me."

Fett raised an eyebrow, and his gaze went to the case that held the Wayfinder. "What exactly is this thing? Why would he be so interested in it?"

Obi-Wan passed his fingers over the still unarmed case to open it. He would have to reactivate its security before getting out of there. "This is a key. A key to a great power. And if there's one thing a Sith can't resist, it's the promise of power, of control." He paused, feeling a deep sorrow wash over him. "Even if control, in the end, only robs one of freedom."

Fett didn't answer. His face was marked by shadows, which emphasized both the unyielding angles and the tired lines. The bounty hunter seemed less hostile than earlier, his grim expression betraying a form of understanding. Everything has a cost: his presence here was only the price for his decisions.

But enough delaying.

Resolute, Obi-Wan composed the code Fett had given him. The comm was one provided with holographic capacity, and he waited only a few seconds before Dooku's image appeared before him. He was dressed in his usual tunic and cloak, but it was impossible to guess where he was and what he was doing. The Count frowned immediately at the sight of Obi-Wan.

"Obviously, you're not Mister Fett, and if you're taking the time to contact me, it's because you have something to offer me." His voice was cold, but a tad curious. Obi-Wan guessed they would not lose time on pleasantries

"I have in my possession something you covet."

"Are you proposing the immediate surrender of the Republic, and the Jedi along with it? How very smart of you."

"No. Something far more precious," Obi-Wan said, raising the Wayfinder to display it. Dooku's eyes narrowed.

"Interesting. But I suppose you want something in return?"

"I'm willing to hand it over to you, if you cease your assault immediately."

Dooku took a few seconds to reply. His appraising gaze detailed Obi-Wan's features.

"You understand that I cannot accede to this unreasonable demand. I can very well seize that thing from your death-stiffened hands, Jedi."

"I can destroy it before you find me. And you won't be able to open its protecting case without me."

"Yes, maybe so, but I can also take a group of crechelings hostage, and execute them one by one until you come and find me. How about that?"

Obi-Wan carefully maintained a neutral expression, despite the sudden image of bodies littering the Temple's bloody corridors flashing in his mind. It was one of OId Ben's worst memories. However, being the outstanding politician that he was, Dooku must have spotted this tell: he let his narrow lips stretch into a cruel smile. "Yes, I think this would be an effective way of negotiating with you. If it's not to your taste, come and find me now, and we'll see if I'm in the mood to work out an agreement."

Obi-Wan's primary goal was to meet Dooku, but he had to keep subtlety on his side. Folding too quickly would not send the appropriate message.

"I can't accept those terms. I need guarantees."

"You have no choice, Jedi. I'll give you one hour to come and meet me on the Invisible Hand. Mister Fett can show you the way if he's still alive. After that, the sole guarantee I can give you is that I'll take no prisoners."

Obi-Wan knew it was a real possibility. Dooku had been too wrapped by the Dark Side to know mercy anymore. Feeling cold, he said, "You don't know what I'm capable of."

Dooku said nothing, letting the silence stretch for a moment. His evaluating gaze did not deviate from Obi-Wan. After a few seconds, he said, "You will not take me by surprise, as you must have done with Sidious. But I'm curious, do you know what I'm capable of?"

Obi-Wan wasn't surprised that Dooku knew he was the one who had killed Palpatine. Fett roaming the Temple for who knew how much time had been a critical security leak. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. "I'm coming to find you, and we'll negotiate."

"Yes, we'll see about that. But in the meantime, know that I will not stand idly by. Time is not on your side, Jedi. I will get what is rightfully mine, one way or another."

Dooku cut the line.

Obi-Wan's hand tightened around the Wayfinder. One hour. Everything could turn upside down in such a short time. He knew he had no real arguments to make Dooku feel truly threatened. For that, Obi-Wan had to strike at the heart of his power.

He possessed various contingency tools he had accumulated over the years. In particular, he had a datadisk with a virus capable of considerably hindering the operation of battle droids. Getting on the Invisible Hand could be very well the door he needed to deploy it—with Anakin's aid.

Obi-Wan could no longer afford to hesitate. He wished he would have the means to save Anakin from the fury of battle; to keep him safe forever. But, above all else, he would give everything to offer the Jedi a chance of surviving the night. To do that, people had to die tonight. Even if it meant endangering his precious people. Sacrifices, for the greater good.

]o[

One troop carrier managed to get close enough to Coruscant's atmosphere to drop its cargo. Within a second, it was destroyed by a concerted assault of fighters and heavy laser fire, but too late to prevent the multiple units from entering the atmosphere. Soon, others would follow, and their defense would be overwhelmed.

"Master Windu, we have a breach," Depa's voice was clear and poised despite the situation, but Mace could still perceive, through their bond, just how much stress she was under. "The enemy army is dropping units. You must get ready for ground assaults."

"Understood, we've got plenty to cope with. You must hold the line."

Despite what he just said, things were looking bad. They had to make critical strategic decisions on too many fronts at once.

The bulk of the battle was currently taking place in space, but as things developed, they would soon have to fight planetside.

The communications room had been transformed into a command room. There were enough independent communication stations to maintain a continuous flow of information that could easily be centralized.

Mace had recruited intelligence specialists for this purpose, and was fortunate to have a few Shadow Jedi on hand. Tholme, Tera and others were proving efficient. The adrenalin and stress of battle made everyone forget their fatigue, but Mace could see the exhaustion in the drawn features of his companions.

"We need to deploy ground units, moving fast, to deal with the bulk of the aggression." They couldn't leave the people of Coruscant defenseless. Every local government had security forces at its disposal, but they weren't cut out for war. They would quickly be overwhelmed by battle droids facing them.

They had to protect civilians. Coruscant had the best hiding places, but its architecture made it vulnerable to artillery strikes: a collapsing building could have catastrophic consequences for the entire surrounding area.

Mace focused on making the best possible decisions, but, insidiously, a voice was telling him to break definitively with the imperatives that bound them to the Republic and stop their loss for good. But their duty was to the most vulnerable; the Force had endowed them with the power to act for the good. And if that meant sacrificing their lives for it, then so be it.

"Tactic, have you composed the units as requested?"

"Command, Commander Fox has transmitted the orders, about half the units are ready for deployment."

"Very well, we have two lines of defense, deploying upper-atmosphere fighters. We need to shoot down as many vessels as possible before they can deliver their payload. Second line of defense, low altitude in strict mesh: no chase, hold the position, and third line on the ground, hunt, and strike. But the emphasis must be on mobility, maximum priority."

"In position."

On the holo-display, a myriad of luminous symbols materialized the units currently deployed on the battlefield. It was so large that they couldn't afford to keep an overview. Mace had broken down the Jedi at his disposal to monitor the tactical displays, which were updated in real-time.

Kit put a hand on Mace's shoulder, "I have to go, Mace." The Nautolan had equipped himself for battle. Like most combat-capable Jedi, he was going out into the streets of Coruscant to support the allied troops. He said, "May the Force be with you."

Mace wished he didn't have to hear that phrase so often. It had a taste of farewell that he intensely disliked. "Be careful. Fight well," Mace said, trying to sound confident. Sending as many fighters out as possible was necessary, but it worried him. The Temple would be virtually without seasoned warriors, aside from Temple's Guards, and Padawans. Hence the need to conduct an evacuation without delay.

He kept an eye on the regularly updated data. The Council had decided early on to evacuate the Temple. No one really believed in their victory, and a race against time was on to save what could be saved.

]o[

Jocasta was packing. She wanted to cry, but her heart was too dry to find tears.

She knew she had to bid farewell to a large part of what had defined her life so far. Yan Dooku, the man who had been her friend—her brother, had returned from exile to destroy everything the Jedi Order stood for.

It had broken her heart.

Jocasta directed her teams, from archivists to students, to quickly and summarily pack up their most precious possessions: pieces of history, documents unique in the galaxy, anything irreplaceable.

Jocasta knew they wouldn't have time to save everything.

Choices had to be made.

That broke her heart a little more.

But saving what could be saved was also a guarantee that the Order would survive despite the possible destruction of their home. The priority was to ensure a future.

"Madam Nu, the last transports are scheduled to leave in thirty minutes! We don't have time to pack everything."

"Take mostly what's remaining in the vaults and in the restricted section. The rest is probably archived elsewhere."

Jocasta was uploading the complete list of documents currently held in the Archives to her datapad. So, although they wouldn't manage to save everything, she would at least have the references of the documents they'd had to leave behind.

If the Force so-willed, she would spend the rest of her life piecing together as much of what would be lost as possible.

"We won't leave without. Don't make us stay behind."

Jocasta sighed. He knew her well. She knew she would have been tempted to stay and fight to her last breath against an enemy who only wanted them harm. But she couldn't let her comrades, and her hopes of rebuilding the Archives, go with her.

She had to think of the future, and that meant running away and not looking back.

]o[

Obi-Wan had given Anakin a rendezvous, giving him a location at one of the remote docking bays, usually housing older spaceships the Order barely used. Anakin's long strides ate the distance, but he kept his composure to avoid raising questions. Occasional tremors and distant explosions told about fights that had broken out outside. On his way, he crossed paths with numerous Jedi, their arms laden with unidentified load. Despite them looking all troubled and hassled, Anakin thought it prudent to do his best to look as if he had every reason to be there. Snips was hot on his heels, eager to be helpful, and Anakin didn't have the heart to send her back to safety with the other junior Padawans.

He knew all too well the pain of being constantly sidelined. He wanted to prove his worth too, and show his Master that he could be trusted.

At times, Anakin felt like he was being treated like a bomb ready to explode. He was willing to admit that he was a sensitive individual, and perhaps a little impulsive, but he knew how to control himself, thank you very much.

"If Mace asks, you'll have to tell him that you came with me without my approval, and that I did everything I could to keep you safe, is that understood?" He kept his voice low so as not to attract attention.

"Don't worry, Skyguy, I'm not stupid," she whispered with a grimace that vaguely resembled a smile. "Who's this guy again? Why we shouldn't tell Mace we're going to see him?"

Anakin didn't feel like asking himself this question. He knew he was in a difficult situation, with conflicting loyalties, but the promise of finally being able to take some real action was too good to pass up. Besides, he trusted Obi-Wan.

"This guy's my friend, I've known him since... I don't know, I think forever." Anakin said, while checking the floor's plan. They had finally reached the right level, and now they had to move in the right direction. This corridor would lead them toward the hangar Obi-Wan spoke about. "For decades, he's been pretending to be someone… he's not really. And he's managed to fool everyone."

"What? Even the Jedi? How is that possible?"

Yes, that was a concerning thought.

The last one having managed that feat had been a Sith Lord, apparently.

Anyway.

"Guess he's talented, and if someone has the means to turn this kriffing battle, it must be Obi-Wan." As he spoke these words, Anakin felt them resonate in the Force as truth. This reassured him, and only strengthened his resolve. He only hoped that Mace would forgive him.

Finally, they reached the docking bay, which was almost deserted. Anakin let out an appreciative whistle. The cavernous expanse, dimly lit, was a haven for a motley assortment of starships, ranging from sleek and nimble vessels to hulking, outdated behemoths. They weren't probably the most functional for an evacuation, but Anakin would have liked to take a closer look. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of exploring this place earlier.

A sudden movement caught his eye, and he saw Obi-Wan waving to him beside an old ship that must have been a century or two old, hull dented and pockmarked. The archivist wasn't alone: a clone sporting a spectacular frown was flanking him. Anakin did a double take. Were those handcuffs around his wrists?

"Ah, Anakin. I'm glad to see you." Obi-Wan said, his voice strong, yet poised. Anakin was having trouble reconciling the mental image he'd formed of Obi-Wan with the way he looked now. Obi-Wan looked considerably taller than usual.

No, not taller, but his presence radiated a charisma Anakin had never seen him express. He stood very straight, with square shoulders and a direct gaze. Obi-Wan had even added pieces of plastoid armor to his outfit, and it was weirdly fitting. Totally at odds with the meek persona he sported as an archivist. Obi-Wan frowned slightly when his gaze landed on Ahsoka, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Are you alright? I heard you collapsed earlier; I hope it's not my fault?" asked Anakin, moving slightly to keep Ahsoka behind him. It was too late to regret the decision to let Ahsoka follow him, though.

Obi-Wan smiled before placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and used it to push him aside. "No, Anakin, everything isn't always about you, don't worry." His eyes crinkled as they landed on Ahsoka, softening his expression marginally. "Why are you here, little one? Not to be rude, but it can be dangerous for you."

Anakin felt Ahsoka's hackles rising immediately, but she kept civil when she answered, "I've already fought on the front line. I can be useful. Besides, it's dangerous everywhere."

Something akin to sadness crossed Obi-Wan's face. "Yes, I suppose it is. But if you're here, it means you want to fight. The question is why you would fight for me."

Ahsoka remained silent for an instant, eyes riveted on Obi-Wan. "The Force is telling me to listen to you. And I won't fight for you. I will fight alongside you, for the Republic. For the Jedi."

"Ah yes, fair enough." Obi-Wan sighed, and bluntly added, "It could lead you to your death, are you both okay with that?" His gaze shifted to Anakin, who could sense the emotional turmoil his friend was feeling, despite his shields.

"Of course yes," answered Anakin, careful to keep his face blank. He wouldn't show his fear, which blended with the excitement he felt building inside him. This was the first time someone was willing to trust him, and he finally had the chance to make a difference. To prove his worth. "What should we do?"

Obi-Wan gave the restrained clone an inscrutable look. The man looked bored, but Anakin could see tension in the line of his shoulders.

"Anakin, Ahsoka. You are both extraordinary Jedi. I have confidence in your talents, but I'll be honest with you: there's a high risk that we won't come back from this operation unscathed. So I want your full loyalty. I don't want anyone questioning my orders. If these terms don't suit you, I'd prefer to leave it at that. Is that clear?"

Ahsoka looked at Anakin, uncertain. She was probably waiting for him to position himself so she could follow him. Obi-Wan spoke like a soldier. Like a general, experienced in combat and command. This added thickness to the mystery of who his friend really was, and the question he'd asked about their loyalty resonated in the Force. Was he willing to put his life on the line for someone who had much unknown in their background?

But you've always known Obi-Wan. He was always there when it counted. Anakin wasn't quite sure where this thought was coming from, but he knew it spoke the truth. The Force wanted Anakin to act. Obi-Wan was probably his best bet to make a difference.

"I'm with you, Obi-Wan." Anakin felt Ahsoka wrap herself tightly around his arm. "And Ahsoka, too. How can we help you?"

"We're going to board the enemy's flagship. Here's the plan."

]o[

Quinlan ran a hand over the wooden panel. It was seemingly just another decorative element in the room. The craft was well-made, with intricate patterns. If it hadn't been for the clues provided by his psychometry skills and his map, Quinlan wouldn't have known that there was a passage behind this wall. "We need to go through this wall," he said, both for Fox who was with him, and for Tholme who was following the operation over the comm.

The situation reminded him strangely of the moments when their team had begun investigating Palpatine's assassination. It had seemed like an eternity ago, even though only three days had passed. He hadn't slept much since, but still. His vision of the galaxy had been completely shaken, and he no longer felt like the same man.

Fox approached with his hand-held scanner. The device beeped, and the Commander said, "It's armored steel. We're going to need the right equipment and some time to clear a path." Fox looked exhausted, as they all did, but in his eyes shone a determined gleam, at odd with the kind of resigned patience Quinlan had been used to see on the face of the Corries' leader. For him too, the world had changed radically.

Tholme had tried to obtain the access codes, but had been unable to get in touch with the head of security. From what Fox had told the Jedi, it was possible that the obstruction was deliberate.

Well, they had to act anyway.

"I guess it's not the time for subtlety anymore." Quinlan closed his eyes, removed his glove, and took in the memory wisps floating in the Force. He soon spotted the hidden identification panel and the locking points holding the security door sealed. Quinlan activated his lightsaber and drove it through the alloy with decisiveness. Few materials could really withstand the power of a lightsaber beam.

Flashes of light illuminated the room intermittently. Coruscant's defenses were crumbling: bombs and landing units were beginning to fall on the surface. Most were neutralized by anti-air defenses and ground-air lures before reaching the ground, but some managed to pass through.

Irregular tremors could be felt through the permacrete. Each time, Quinlan felt lives blown in an instant through the Force, and this did nothing to improve his concentration.

Quinlan tightened his grip, both on his lightsaber and on his mental shield, and continued to cut steadily through the metal.

"Convenient," Fox said, eyeing Quinlan's progress appreciatively. He made a sign before adding for his men, "Prepare the battering ram."

Fox had joined Quinlan with an entire platoon. The clones moved and organized themselves almost without speaking, communicating mainly through subtle signs. They were all veterans, and Quinlan could feel their harmony in the Force. Without being Force-sensitive, the Clones' particular nature made them almost permeable to a form of communion of spirit, not unlike the Jedi's relationship with the world. Quinlan enjoyed working with them.

When he judged that he had weakened the panel sufficiently, he deactivated his blade and took a step to the side. The clones, with precise coordination, hit the panel with their makeshift battering ram. They only had to use it twice, before the door collapsed with a disquieting screech, revealing a shadowy corridor. According to Quinlan's information, it led into the depths of the Senate, into a secure section that was a priori resistant to orbital assault.

"Master Tholme, do you have readings on the security?"

Static answered him for a few seconds, soon replaced by Tholme's voice, "It seems that this part of the Senate is off-grid, and it's possible that the electromagnetic waves are dampened there. Your signal is definitely worse when you're standing close to the wall than when you're in the middle of the room," Quinlan frowned. He couldn't see more than a few meters, as the corridor took a sharp bend. "We'll have to continue our progress either way, Master. It might be more prudent to send a Jedi team after us."

"I'll check with Mace to see if we can assemble a team quickly. Be careful, Quinlan."

"I will, Master," said Quinlan before putting his comm in his inside pocket. "Well? What do you think, Commander?"

"I say there's no backing out, General," answered Fox, flanked by his men. Quinlan couldn't see their faces, but he could clearly feel their determination.

"My opinion exactly. Let's go, gentlemen."

Without further ado, they entered the bowels of the Senate. It was a succession of dimly lit corridors and elevators that all looked alike, which seemed not to have been used for a long time. An impression of antiquity pervaded. The network was extensive, and connected other parts of the Senate, allowing a select few senators and politicians to move discreetly and maintain privacy when necessary.

"We need to keep going downward," whispered Fox, to his scouts. Quinlan nodded. He was doing his best to project his senses, but for the moment he hadn't detected anyone's presence. He had, however, spotted the Chancellor's trail. Amedda had been there, but it was impossible to say exactly when. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours earlier.

As they went deeper, Quinlan had the impression that they were becoming more and more cut off from the world. There must indeed have been some kind of shield, as he no longer felt external events as strongly as before, which also affected the information carried by the Force.

After what seemed like an eternity, Quinlan finally detected the presence of a large number of people. They had reached a more open part of the complex, clearly designed for defense. One massive security door closed off a hallway that offered no blind spots or space for attackers to take cover. The defenders, on the other hand, had barricades. Quinlan spotted the concealed presence of security turrets, uncomfortably pointed at them.

As Quinlan and the clones stepped into the space, he could feel the moment they became a target. Fortunately, no one opened fire, but he clearly sensed in the Force that their arrival was not perceived as a positive thing.

"Halt! We're on lockdown, no one gets in!"

Quinlan put his hands open before him in a non-threatening gesture. "I'm on a mission from the Jedi High Council. Known Force darkusers are part of the CIS army. The Jedi must protect the Chancellor from their actions. Or do you think you're qualified for this task?"

The CorSec team leader–as attested by her uniform–showed clear signs of nervousness, and Quinlan could taste her fear in the Force. Still, she didn't back down and continued to stand up to him.

"Orders are orders. No one gets in." Her fingers visibly tightened on her assault rifle, and the other security personnel tensed. They looked at Quinlan with hostility.

Something fishy was happening here.

"I am not your enemy," he said soothingly with the Force. Something was wrong with the loyalties expressed here.

Mace had warned him that Mas Amedda had been difficult regarding relations with the Jedi in the aftermath of Palpatine's assassination. If the acting Chancellor had been aware that Palpatine was a Sith Lord, chances were high he knew about the plan to get rid of the Jedi.

And it was only a short step from there to the conclusion that he was maybe in collusion with Dooku.

Quinlan gritted his teeth.

With these facts in mind, he couldn't afford to back off.

You need to intervene. Amedda has the power to set off the Clones' control chip.

The thought came to him clearly, directly from the Force bond he had with Obi-Wan. He had to admit it was handy, even if a bit unsettling on the privacy side. Well. Quinlan would address the problem when the time came. Now, all that mattered was the slightest advantage that circumstances could offer him, and unfettered communication with an outstanding strategist seemed to him to fall into that category.

What do you propose?

Get to him, take him to the Temple.

This will be an act of high treason. The Republic will prosecute the entire Order for this.

Doesn't matter. Only survival matters at this point.

Quinlan, for his part, sensed Obi-Wan's intention to confront Dooku directly. And it made sense, even if he didn't like the idea of him going in like that almost without backup.

Through the bond and with the memories that went with it, Quinlan deeply understood Obi-Wan's motivations and his determination to set things right. But he didn't like the taste of ruthlessness he could sense in Obi-Wan's resolve.

This conversation had allowed them to exchange several times, but at a speed far greater than the spoken word could convey. Barely a few seconds had passed, and Quinlan was still facing the security guards, who seemed determined to not let them pass.

Quinlan couldn't afford to eliminate potential innocents either, and he'd have to be smart about this.

There was an entire contingent between him and an armored door. With the Force, Quinlan was reasonably sure he could manage to disable the security agents without too much damage, but his team would have to be creative about the armored door. With time, they could find a way to bypass the security, but he wasn't sure he'd have the hours to do it.

Force, what to do?

And the Force answered with a clear warning.

They were attacked, but not on the front. The attack was coming from the rear. On cue, he heard the telltale sound of smoke grenades being fired, soon followed by the quiet hiss of the smoke being released in the atmosphere. The enemy fire was coming from the one of corridors. Quinlan's team was stuck in a really uncomfortable position.

"Find cover! We're under attack!" shouted Fox, and his men retreated immediately toward the barricades.

Quinlan waited a few seconds with his activated lightsaber to fend off the few blaster bolts coming through the smoke, then Force-leaped next to the security chief. "For now, we're on the same side!"

She swore and let Quinlan take cover beside her. "The Chancellor was afraid of that! We're facing a security breach!"

"What do you mean?"

"Part of CorSec is on Dooku's payroll!"

Of course. Compartmentalized loyalties were probably the result of cleverly orchestrated corruption. They really didn't need that on top of all the other things. But things were never fair in war.

Smoke was spreading slowly, blurring vision and making those without a helmet cough. Quinlan filtered the air around his head, but it cost him precious energy. He prepared to launch himself fully in the battle, when he heard the characteristic snap-hiss of a lightsaber being activated amongst the shouts and the blaster shots.

At first, he didn't recognize the cloaked Force-signature, too faint to be perceived clearly. Something tasted familiar, though, and suddenly, a name came to him from the part of his mind that was now connected to Obi-Wan.

Ventress

Oh, no. Quinlan closed his eyes for an instant. He had read a few reports describing the Darkuser that numerous Jedi had had the misfortune to meet on the battlefield. She was probably Dooku's apprentice, and as such, was an outstanding duelist, specially trained to face the Jedi skill set.

Many had fallen under her blade.

From Obi-Wan's memories, a certain amount of information about Ventress came spontaneously to him, about her favorite feints and her fighting style. This flow was laced with anxiety, but Quinlan could do nothing to assuage this kind of fear. Before a battle, one needed to feel fear, and to accept its presence. This was what differentiated an actual combat from a training session or a spar. Because fighting was, at heart, about preserving life.

To fight was to face death.

And today, death would reap its share of lives.