The elevator stopped and the door opened. Anakin hit the door button. It wouldn't close.
He looked up at the ceiling. If he had his lightsaber, he'd have a chance at getting out of this.
If he had his lightsaber, he might not need a way out of this. He palmed Padmé's blaster. What am I supposed to do with this?
A low, dangerous croak reverberated through what looked like a forgotten storage room. Old crates, abandoned building materials, and large sheets of thick metal and wallboard cast ominous shadows across a dimly lit vault.
"Are you afraid of me, apprentice? You should have considered that much sooner."
Darkness poured into the lift. Darkness, hatred, and murderous intent.
"I don't understand why you're doing this!" Anakin called out. "I've never hurt you! We're trying to save you!"
"You swore an oath one is not allowed to break!" grated Sidious, eerily closer. "You think you will destroy our Order?"
A tingle in the Force brought Anakin's blaster up.
The ancient voice sounded closer still. "I will destroy you!"
A spinning fury of black robes hurtled through the door at him. Anakin had no choice but to fire at the strobe of crimson light that flashed in his eyes. And as the Force directed his aim, despair consumed another part of him.
This was exactly what he was not supposed to do! How would they ever save Palpatine now? But if the alternative was widowing Padmé and leaving his two babies -
- there was no alternative.
He had thought he was used to how quickly Palpatine could move. He wasn't. Anakin fired as fast as he could, keeping that crimson blade busy and away from his throat. Palpatine's arms beat like wings; this close, this furious, the tiny Sith lord seemed huge.
Blaster bolts ricocheted off the walls and zipped back and forth in showers of sparks. The Sith blade hummed and throbbed in Anakin's ears. Flashes of warning guided Anakin this way and that, just before a reflected blaster bolt would have killed him. Palpatine, too, dodged blaster bolts as he attempted to catch an unguarded chance at Anakin's neck and hands.
We've got to get out of here. This is dangerous! No sooner had Anakin thought it than Palpatine yelped and threw his smoldering robe to the floor.
Anakin saw his chance and darted over the Sith master's arm and out to freedom. With a growl, Palpatine leaped after him. Anakin spied a 'fresher sink on the floor and used the Force to hurl it at him. Palpatine jumped nimbly aside and crossed the floor to him in one long leap.
Anakin brought his blaster up. The bolt he fired squarely met Palpatine's blade -
- and returned to the blaster itself, superheating the weapon. Anakin felt the echo of darkness that guided it. The blaster exploded in his hand. Anakin screamed and jumped away, shielding his head with his mechanical arm.
"Hah!" shouted Palpatine. He flew through the air, as close behind Anakin as if he were drawing him on a string. His blade slashed at Anakin's head.
And now he had no way to defend himself.
Anakin ran, he jumped, he crawled, he rolled as fast as he possibly could. It wasn't enough to shake Palpatine. The old man knew where he was before he got there. His lightsaber singed a hole in Anakin's pants; lopped a panel off of his leather vest; singed off several pieces of his hair. The two of them twisted furiously across the floor, stumbling over discarded tools and lengths of pipe, tumbling over dusty packing crates. Coward, Anakin thought. But there could be no doubt. This time, finally, Palpatine meant to kill him.
Palpatine's lightsaber slashed his forearm and the pain burnt straight through to the bone. Anakin screamed and leaped across the room.
He only had one arm. To think that Palpatine would -
Fury sank him deep into the dark side, and Anakin began to move - faster than he had ever dreamed possible.
Suddenly, the Master could not keep up with him.
Anakin sprang for the ceiling. Palpatine followed, a second too slow. Anakin bounced off the ceiling, boots first, flipped to the opposite wall, and somersaulted over a hulking covered piece of machinery. He crouched on the floor and turned. Palpatine flew through the air after him like a giant bird, arms outstretched, teeth bared in an ugly snarl.
Anakin reached out with the Force and bumped whatever lurked under the tarp - just high enough to clip Palpatine as he soared over it. The Sith master went spinning into a corner, reducing a heap of dust-covered crates to plastic splinters with a crash. His yelp rang in Anakin's ears.
He pulled himself to his feet and turned, but by that time Anakin had pushed what looked like an old security scanner under the tarp - weighing as much as the two of them put together - across the floor at him. Crates and toolboxes slid ahead of it.
Palpatine let out a surprised snarl, then an angry one. He hopped on top of the tarp and looked around, but by this time Anakin was ready for him. A square of spare sheet metal angled like a knife for Palpatine's neck, forcing him back onto the floor.
A new awareness penetrated the furious Dark. Anakin remembered, on Tatooine and the Invisible Hand, his will disappearing into a cauldron of anger; but this time, although his anger fueled the power, he could think, too.
And Palpatine seemed to know it.
He stalked him, lightsaber at the ready. "You feel it now," he said, his voice an oily caress. "I have longed to show you this for months - for years!"
The Force was molten lava, but Anakin's brain was cold and it ticked, ticked as the Master approached him.
I can throw things at him all day long and never win. And an idea whispered, Get his lightsaber. Then you've got a chance.
"Give yourself to the dark side, Lord Vader," Sidious commanded. "Honor your oath to our Order, and you will have your wife, your children, power beyond your greatest imaginings. Refuse, and I must destroy you!"
Anakin heard that, but he heard someone else, too. Someone else who knew Darkness.
"The Force is a state of mind, Anakin. You feel the anger, the power is there, but you don't have to do everything that runs through your mind. You're in charge, not it."
And Master Windu had said something else. "Vaapad is all about your Intention. Intention, Intention, Intention, Intention."
Right now Anakin intended to have that lightsaber.
"Do you hate me, apprentice? For trying to take your arm? For trying to take your precious Padmé?" Sidious spat the words. "What do you want to do to me?" He shook his glowing saber at Anakin.
Anakin shot across the floor, half running, half crouching, to a wide piece of thick sheet metal that stood propped against the wall. Palpatine blocked him at the other end.
As he had planned.
"Do you hate me? For lying to you - for betraying you? For pretending to love you all these years?" The old man bent and snarled into the hole. His Sith blade threw his twisted face into horrible relief - a blood red visage of hate, topped by feral eyes. "You have good reason to hate me. Do as your hate bids you!"
Anakin darted forward, gripping a cut length of steel beam that rested just at Palpatine's feet. As Palpatine's sword arm swept to slash at his neck, he slammed the beam into his forearm with the blinding swiftness and crushing power of the darkness.
Palpatine saw, but not soon enough. He grunted in pain. The blow numbed his right arm just enough.
Anakin let the beam clatter to the floor, grabbed Palpatine's wrist, and held on with the power of the dark side. He refused to let go. The saber seemed welded to Palpatine's hand.
"Drop it!" Anakin grunted. "Drop it!"
Palpatine growled with rage and struggled to get free. Anakin began slamming his hand into the wall, throwing showers of sparks. The air smelled of ozone and burnt hair. Palpatine summoned the darkness and his own brute strength, and resisted him.
"Drop it!"
Palpatine gestured with his free hand; a dome from an old R2 unit sailed through the air at Anakin's head. Anakin ducked back under the sheet metal, pulling Palpatine with him. The droid part banged harmlessly against the metal.
Palpatine twisted, writhed, pulled with all his strength. Anakin held to that river of power he touched at the thought of losing his arm, and his mechanical fingers joined his real ones around Palpatine's wrist.
"Drop it!"
Palpatine pulled his left hand back, his fingers curling into claws. Just what Anakin had been waiting for.
He had been struck with plasma lightning more than once, and each time, Anakin had noticed an eddy in the Force. A pause, a shift in concentration, a gathering. The harder the strike, the longer this preparatory collecting motion in the Force.
And Palpatine was angry, and he planned to strike Anakin very hard.
Anakin waited for the moment of supreme tension, just before Palpatine struck. His master snarled, lightning flowed from his fingertips -
- and Anakin reached into the Force, twisting and yanking his lightsaber with all his might, shouting with the effort. The lightsaber slipped free of its master's fingers. Its crimson blade extinguished, and it flew straight into Anakin's hand. Palpatine let out a furious shout.
His lightning touched Anakin for only a second. He ignited the saber and held it aloft. It drew the plasma like a lightning rod, and reflected it back at Palpatine.
Hit squarely in the chest, the Chancellor grunted and stumbled backward. He brought up his other hand and struck harder. The plasma screamed against the blade. It buzzed at Palpatine's fingertips and crashed back against his body. It seared the walls with a squealing whine.
Anakin struggled against a pressure that angled the blade back toward his face. He crouched, trying to keep his footing.
Streamers of plasma touched Palpatine's face. "Traitor!" the Sith snarled. "You Jedi traitor! You think you can do this and live?" Anakin squinted through the flash of a hundred lightning bolts.
And saw the blue eyes he had always loved turn a bright, glowing yellow. Gritting his teeth, the Sith poured out the lightning still harder. Anakin strained to keep the blade upright and away from his face. His arms ached, but as long as he still had two of them, there was no way this monster would beat him now.
Bolts of plasma seared Palpatine. He sank to his knees. Each time the lightning licked his face, he went more and more sallow. The skin at the corners of his eyes puffed like rising bread.
Palpatine shrieked. His eyes went amber, then reddish orange. Anakin stepped closer. It was just as Sereine had said - his irises were bleeding. The sight made Anakin's stomach turn.
Holy Force - I'm killing him!
The realization sent Anakin's mind reeling in a thousand directions at once. He could kill the Master! Without Obi-Wan, without Windu, without anybody else. He could end the Sith order right here - right now!
What the Council wouldn't say when he brought them Sidious's body! They'd make him a Master then - they would put him on the Council! They would - they would-
Palpatine yelped and snarled, battering him with molten hate. And Anakin saw in his movements, in the way his shoulders suddenly drooped, the lift of his chin, the mixture of pride and fear in his eyes along with that smoking evil, a sadness and a terror - and some strange, lonely triumph.
He remembered, suddenly, when those eyes were blue and the cheeks rosy with health. The blond, curly-haired senator who gave him toys and took him on his lap. He remembered the white-haired Chancellor who listened for hours to all his troubles. The Sith who didn't believe in love.
Palpatine had just declared that he wasn't that man. But who really knew the depths of the extraordinary soul that was Palpatine's? If it was Anakin, and he didn't stop -
I don't want to kill him, he thought.
As he did so, the energy around them changed. Palpatine's lightsaber thrummed and vibrated so powerfully that Anakin almost dropped it. Some of the lightning that shot from Palpatine's fingers met the blade - and disappeared.
What?
Anakin hung onto those thoughts and tried it again. He looked into Palpatine's eyes, and instead of the horrible sight that was actually there, he visualized the smiling, blue-eyed Chancellor, the one who said, "I have said it many times, Anakin. You are the most powerful Jedi I have ever met."
The lightsaber absorbed more lightning, and reflected less at Palpatine.
He remembered the Palpatine with a humorous twinkle in his eye, mischeivously quoting, "'We are still flying half a ship.'" The Palpatine who loved firepath and wine and the Galaxies Opera. The Palpatine who smiled and held his little finger out to Anakin's tiny son.
If only it could be more, it might work. If the lightsaber could absorb all that Palpatine put out, it would be a stalemate. But the sheer volume of plasma the Master poured at him was overwhelming. No matter what Anakin visualized or thought, it just wouldn't absorb it all. Tongues of plasma still reflected back, and they still licked Palpatine's face.
And each time they did, an ugly welt of big, puffed swellings rose in their wake. One on Palpatine's forehead, one across his cheek, one along his jaw. His skin went stark yellow.
It's no use, Anakin thought in despair. I'm still killing him! He cast about for something, anything that might save them both.
He remembered cracking an eye open on Geonosis in that infernal hangar and watching Master Yoda fold a handful of plasma lightning into himself as if he were tucking it into his breast pocket. Wish I knew how to do that.
But then he recalled something else. Yoda had reflected plasma back at Dooku bare-handed, but he had also reflected it harmlessly around at the walls.
But I don't know how to do that.
But what if he tried?
Could he be powerful enough? The dark side drained away from him as surely as the saber blade sapped the lightning. But he could stand a minute or two of plasma bolts. He had done it with Dooku, and with Palpatine several times.
If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. I'll hold the lightsaber back up - and I'll kill him.
Anakin couldn't bear to look. He gulped a deep breath, looked down at the floor, switched off Palpatine's lightsaber, and extended his hand. Please, work.
He visualized the old Palpatine, his Palpatine. I need your help, son.
He heard him. Light is delicate, and gone in a moment. It can't be made to last any longer than starshine. And one should never, never trust it. Palpatine had thought he was helping him then. He really had!
The strangest sensation of sheltering energy leaped from Anakin's palm. His whole body tingled. He looked up in surprise to see all that Sith lightning deflecting away from both of them, just as it had for Yoda on Geonosis. Intention, Intention, Intention, Intention.
It's working! I did it! Joy seized Anakin, and he felt the shielding waver with the drop in his concentration. He tried to see the Chancellor again - and he had a sudden understanding of Yoda then, knew one of the ancient Jedi master's deepest secrets. Yoda still loved his old padawan...and he hadn't wanted to hurt Dooku, either.
Anakin blinked to clear his vision. Palpatine's whole expression changed, blind terror lived in his bleeding eyes - and it truly was a stalemate.
Who would give out first?
Anakin felt his shield wavering. It was difficult to maintain and control - and the growling Sith lord, injured though he was, showed no sign of fatigue.
Anakin crept slowly closer.
"Get away from me!" Palpatine spat.
Anakin hooked Palpatine's lightsaber to his belt, sprang forward, and grabbed Palpatine's wrists. He pinned the Sith lord's arms to the floor.
"You have to stop!" he shouted. "You're killing yourself!"
Palpatine spat in his face and struggled. He writhed and wailed like an animal. Anakin fought to hang on.
Palpatine lifted one foot and tried to dislodge him with a Force-kick harder than Count Dooku's. Anakin flew up two meters, but he held onto Palpatine's wrists.
He used the Force to nail himself to the floor while Palpatine twisted and bucked under him, Force-kicking him in the kidneys. Anakin could feel his grip slipping.
"Stop!" he shouted. "I don't want to hurt you! Please!"
Plasma lightning lifted them both from the floor and threw Anakin sideways. As he struggled to balance himself, they hit the floor again and the impact sent a crushing pain up his knees. He felt the Sith collect himself to try it again.
Anakin threw himself forward and head-butted Palpatine as hard as he could. Dazed, the Sith master shook his head, and tried again to collect himself.
Anakin head-butted him again, using the Force to knock that incredibly hard skull with all his might. The orange eyes closed. He felt the body beneath him relax.
Cautiously Anakin shifted his weight, well aware that Palpatine might be acting. Carefully he eased his grip on the Master's wrists and probed gently in the Force. Palpatine's presence was there, not masked as it usually was, but it felt muted - fuzzy.
Anakin got off of him and grabbed his comlink.
Sereine appeared in the storage room moments later, picking her way around the debris, agog at the battle scars on the walls and ceiling.
"How did you get here so fast?"
"The same way he did. Didn't you know? There's a freight elevator in the back of his office suite. It's how they got all those statues loaded in. Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." The burn on his own arm wept and stung, but he'd deal with it later. He picked Palpatine up in his arms. "Now what?"
"I think we should take him back to his office. I don't think it's safe to wake him up without an audience."
Anakin carried him through his gray office and down the hall to his red one. He laid him gently on the floor.
Sereine bustled up behind him and sank down beside Palpatine on her knees. "Is he all right?" She stroked Palpatine's forehead and ran her finger over the soft, puffy skin around his eyes, which was beginning to deflate like fallen bread into saggy wrinkles. The sallowness was draining from his complexion, leaving him a waxy ashen gray.
Sereine looked up, her fingers gently tracing the few lines of hard welts. "Anakin, what happened to his face?'
Anakin explained. "His eyes, too. It was just like you said."
The Chancellor stirred and moaned, his eyelids fluttering.
"Go and open the door," said Sereine. "Any racket and the whole complex will hear him."
Anakin complied and turned to see her fold herself in half and kiss Palpatine on the forehead. "It's all right, Palpatine," she said softly. "There's no need to fight. We're not going to hurt you. You're safe."
She began to gather his limp body into her arms.
"Sereine - " said Anakin. "I wouldn't - "
Palpatine came awake with a gasp and a start. His gaze fixed on Sereine and his bleeding eyes narrowed with hate.
He let out an ear-splitting screech and Force-pushed her before Anakin could even do anything. She flew across the room and landed with a grunt in a crumpled heap against one of the columns at the door.
"Are you all right?" Anakin reached down to help her. She pulled herself to her feet in a crooked upside-down U, one hand at the small of her back, stifling a groan.
Palpatine's eyes flitted around at the office and the open door.
"What was that?" echoed from outside. Dozens of running feet pounded down the corridor, and Palpatine's personal secretary, Vice-Chancellor Mas Amedda, and half the office staff crowded into the doorway.
Sereine pulled herself bolt upright as if not a thing had happened. "Chancellor Palpatine has had a seizure," she announced. "Get a medical capsule immediately!"
She pulled at Anakin's sleeve. "Come on!" she whispered. Anakin followed her across the floor, a little more slowly than normal, and they knelt at Palpatine's head.
"Palpatine, enough of this," whispered Anakin. "You have to cooperate."
Staffers poured into the room, some wringing their hands, some wringing out cold cloths for Palpatine's forehead. As the mob surrounded them amidst shouts of "What happened? What happened?" Anakin whispered to Sereine, "Let's take him to Temple! He won't dare try anything there."
"Are you kidding me?" Sereine hissed back. "With all the diseases they're going to find? They'll know something's wrong!" She held Anakin's eyes with a look that said, Now pay attention, here's our lie, raised her voice, and said, "We were just in there and he was fine! We heard him moan and fall out of his chair, and we ran back in, and he's convulsing on the floor! I don't understand it - he was fine!"
Anakin joined in. "He didn't say anything about not feeling well at all. He was fine!" And then he whispered, "Oh, kriff! I forgot his robe - it's still down in the elevator!"
Two hours later he strode through the corridors of Coruscant City Hospital to find Sereine holding court in the VIP wing. Flanked by a pair of stuffy, officious-looking hospital administrators, she fielded questions from some two hundred beings with microphones and holocams.
"- don't really know at this point if this episode we saw today had anything to do with injuries suffered on the Invisible Hand or not," she was saying. "He seemed fine when he got off the transport, but we know that that whole experience was rough and that he got shaken around quite a bit. And, as you know, he refused a medical exam after he got back so that the medical team sent to attend to him could go to those more badly injured, so, yes, something could have been missed."
She saw Anakin coming and held up one finger. "Gentlebeings, it's important to remember that we are disturbing hospital operations by being here, and since he's still undergoing testing we don't know any more. I'm going to stop right now, and bring you further news as it becomes available."
Amid shouts of "Lady Valorum! Lady Valorum!" she stepped off her podium and joined Anakin, steering him into an empty hospital room where kaffe, pastry, comm units, and a holovid had been made available.
"You leaked the 'seizure' to the press?" Anakin said. "Speaking of revenge. He'll never forgive us!"
"You saw how many staffers came in," she said. "I didn't leak it. This is just damage control. What happened?"
"Bad news first," said Anakin. "The robe wasn't there. The elevator was frozen there, but someone had gone into that room and taken the robe."
"That could be good or bad," said Sereine. "You said there was good news?"
Anakin smiled. "I dumped that whole situation on Amedda. I just crossed my arms and said, 'Look, we both know you're up to your neck in this. That place is a mess, his robe's still down there, and I'm not going after it. You want a lid on this, handle it yourself.' So, as requested, you are Mas Amedda-less." He gave her a little bow. "For now, at least."
"Oh, thank you!" She reached around to the small of her back, and he gave her a concerned look.
"I'm going to the doctor as soon as I think I can leave this for a couple of hours," she said. "In the meantime - " she held up a datapad - "I'm afraid I wasn't completely honest with the ladies and gentlemen of the press. We have a preliminary scan on Palpatine which shows - " She began to read. "Immune-mediated uveitis, arthritis, and multiple sclerosis - asymptomatic as far as we know. This on his face and around his eyes?" She pointed to where the hard welts had risen on his forehead, cheek, and jaw in response to the reflected lightning, and the new sagging around his eyes.
"Cutis laxa," she said. "Under the microscope, that's what the facial deformity is. The dermatologists are baffled. The doctors know about his blood problem, and they've got him on heavy drugs so it doesn't start again." She checked her list. "Oh, and it seems he's healing from a recent vasectomy."
"Vasectomy?" Anakin blinked.
Sereine smiled. "I guess you don't read the society tabloids. Queen Renata and her eighty-year-old King have just announced they're expecting a baby. I wonder what they'll name Palpatine's child?"
She looked up. "I hear their family name is Jade."
Palpatine's new face looked enough like his old one that you had no problem telling who he was. But while the bleeding had stopped and eventually resorbed, his eyes remained an eerie yellow. His skin returned to a more or less natural hue, but those first tracks of hard, raised scarring remained. Age spots had appeared seemingly overnight, and he looked as if he had aged twenty years in a day.
This was all plainly seen by every Republic citizen during a surprise address he gave on his second day back at his office, at the dinner hour. A blindsided Sereine happened to be at Padmé's, and they all saw it together.
Palpatine sat at his desk in the red room, evening speeder traffic passing behind him, dignified, sober, his newly gnarled hands folded regally in front of him. After briefly recounting, in a sad and gentle tone, the bravery of the clone troops, the Jedi, and the Republic as a whole during the war, the joy and relief of its recent end, and how the tenacious efforts of the ordinary citizen to rebuild a better Republic had gladdened and inspired him, he began the next portion of his speech:
"I had planned and intended to remain in this office rebuilding alongside each of you, for another six months at least, but my physicians have informed me that this is not to be. And so it is with a regretful heart that I tender to you, my fellow citizens, my resignation as Supreme Chancellor effective one month from this date.
"Words cannot express the pride I've felt simply sitting at this desk for these thirteen years. Your messages of love and support have sustained me through many a dark and difficult hour." Finis snorted at this. "I simply find myself unable to convey to each and every one of you the honor it has been to serve as your Chancellor."
There was more in the same vein. The three of them sat in stunned silence, their untouched plates of food growing cold in their laps. When the address was over and the inevitable recaps began, two heads swiveled to look at Sereine, who had studied Palpatine's every twitch as intently as if she could read his mind.
"We're in trouble," was her verdict. "He's got a Plan B, and it's going to be a killer."