Coruscant, Republic Center for Military Operations
Sidious stepped into the Republic Fleet Command wearing a dry black cowl. Thanks to the blaze and subsequent rain of fire extinguishing foam in his incantation room, the Sith Lord needed to change clothes.
Two Clone troopers carrying a body on a stretcher stopped, allowing Sidious to inspect it. Suppressing a smirk, Sidious unzipped the body bag and sighted the face and torso of a deceased Devaronian Jedi male.
"Chancellor on deck!" shouted a Pantoran Ensign, finally noticing the peculiar sight of Sheev Palpatine staring at a dead body.
All discussion ceased. The room became completely silent, save the staticky voices of personnel reporting via hyperwave comms and subspace radio.
"As you were," Sidious sighed, putting on a well-practiced visage of sorrow. He could sense the outright hostility pouring from many of the non-Clone officers, including Admiral Dodd Rancit, whom he had previously considered an ally.
That particular Admiral made it immediately clear why he disapproved. "Excellency, the Separatists are advancing on almost every front," he grunted, pointing up at the map of the Galaxy which was illuminating the dim ceiling overhead.
A broad crimson ribbon crossed the Galaxy, representing the advance of Separatist forces over the last few hours. In the chaos that followed the deaths of hundreds of Jedi Generals, Separatist Armadas were now advancing down the Tingel Arm, up the South Arm from the Western Reaches, and out of the Tion Cluster all the way into the Slice—as far Coreward as Kashyyyk.
"Kashyyyk has fallen then?" Sidious asked, frowning in pretend concern. The fall of Kashyyyk was not particularly alarming to him and, in fact, was potentially of benefit. If the Claatuvac Guild's secret hyperspace routes fell into Separatist hands, they would eventually find their way into his hands.
Director Armand Isard of the Senate Bureau of Intelligence cleared his throat. "We can't be certain of that, but the last transmission we received from the planet was from the Wookiees. It included footage of Clones abandoning their posts, attempting to assassinate General Unduli. In what followed, a massive invasion force of droids stormed the beaches—"
"Execute," Sidious corrected.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The Clones were executing General Unduli for treason," Sidious explained. "Mere hours ago the Jedi assaulted a squad of Coruscant Guardsmen who had been sent to extract Count Dooku from the Jedi Temple. The Jedi then made an attempt on my life, giving me no choice but to activate Order 66. The Clone behavior is not a mystery—this is not friendly fire. All Jedi who do not cooperate shall be terminated."
A hushed discussion broke out amongst the Generals, Admirals, and Directors. This time, it was General Locus Geen's turn to speak up.
"Excellency, with all due respect, have you really exhausted every other option?"
"The Jedi have forced my hand," Sidious said, a note of regret in his voice. "Once Clone Forces have taken the Temple, I will attempt to convince the remaining Jedi to surrender—"
"We are going to lose the war," General Locus Geen interrupted, stepping forward from the crowd to the left of Isard. "There is no dancing around it. You have been acting completely incompetent ever since the invasion of Coruscant. I vote to immediately activate Order 65, declaring the Supreme Chancellor unfit for duty."
"Are you mad?" asked Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin, Sidious's strongest supporter in the entire Republic military. "The Supreme Chancellor has laid out a perfectly legitimate and legal chain of reasoning for activating Order 66. They have been impossible to control for years—a completely rogue element, and now they have gone too far. They must be brought in line or crushed! As for your alarmist statements, the entire Separatist military leadership is on the verge of decapitation. Dooku will be back in our custody soon, and it's only a matter of time before Grievous is killed or captured. For all we know, the Jedi may have mind-tricked you into believing the Chancellor incompetent."
"I would not be doing this were it not a matter of preserving the Galactic Republic," Sidious insisted, adding to Tarkin's arguments. "Might I remind you, it was the Jedi who struck first. I barely escaped a Jedi onslaught… Were it not for the sacrifice of many of my brave guards, I would not be standing here right now."
It was a blatant lie, but without proof to the contrary it would likely suffice until a real Jedi attack unfolded, giving him a real (or at least better) reason to launch Order 66.
The holopresence of Admiral Yularen shirked, stepping backwards and shaking his head. Sidious could sense the words "I am absolutely disgusted. You killed the Jedi I have worked with for three years. I don't believe it for one moment," on the tip of the Admiral's tongue, but he kept the comment to himself.
"With all due respect, excellency," said Dodd Rancit, "I will require more than your word that the Jedi attacked you. Activating Order 66 is a serious matter, and I suspect the Senate failed to foresee that the Chancellor would have the unilateral ability to initiate it without the consent of the Security Council."
Sidious took a deep breath. A wave of sinking dread filled his stomach. Order 66 was supposed to happen so swiftly that the Jedi would mostly be annihilated before the military had any time to question the order. Thanks to the Jedi forcing Sidious's hand prematurely, and thanks to the lack of a real Jedi attack on his government, the Temple remained. Everyone had time to think about and debate Order 66.
"Still, I believe activating two contingency orders in the same day will wreak even more havoc than we can possibly imagine," Rancit continued. "I vote that we give the Chancellor twenty-four hours to resolve this issue."
"I second," Isard said. "Does anyone besides General Geen support activating Order 65?"
All of the remaining officers remained silent. Tarkin locked his jaw, looking like he now thought Geen was a traitor.
"Good, in the meantime, all fleets should be withdrawn to defensive positions. Excellency, you have twenty-four hours to fix this mess. Make your demands to the Jedi Order. Get them back under control. If you fail to do so, I expect we will recommend for the next Chancellor to rescind Order 66."
"Twenty-four hours?" Geen scoffed.
Sidious's hand inched towards the pocket carrying his lightsaber. With just one flick of the hand, he could end Geen instantly. It was so tempting, but the Sith Lord contained his bloodlust, instead narrowing his eyes as he regarded the General. But then he turned to Admiral Rancit.
"That sounds reasonable. I will endeavor to find a diplomatic solution."
Rancit nodded, relaying the order to a group of Clone navigation officers manning several communication stations.
Sidious lingered in the room, reaching out with the Force to all of the officers present, either in the flesh or via the HoloNet. He wanted desperately to leave the room—to take command of the army of Clones that was now surrounding the Jedi Temple, or at least to try and contact Anakin. But with the Separatist advance coming on all fronts, he had another fire he had to extinguish.
"Governor Tarkin?" he asked, using the Admiral's preferred title.
"Yes, your Excellency?"
"Let's take a walk," Sidious muttered, leading the way out of the exit. On his way out, he used the Force to listen into the hushed whispers between Dodd Rancit and Locus Geen, deep in discussion. They were wondering where Padmé Amidala and Bail Organa were, and whether they should raise the specter of Order 65 to the opposition.
Tarkin followed Sidious down the gray dimly lit hall, clasping his hands behind his back. "Geen is right about one thing," he muttered, "We could lose the war because of this."
"That is what we need to discuss," Sidious said softly. "Do you recall activating the Separatist PAL nearly two years ago?" he asked, referring to a Permissive Action Link—a device tied into the droid command codes, which provided authentication for a total shutdown.
Nine months into the Clone Wars, Tarkin had led the 12th Army (in an operation which had included now-Ensign Lir Sey'les) to the Corporate Alliance capital of Murkhana in the Tion Cluster. His target was the Separatist Shadowfeeds—a facility exploiting backdoor access to the Republic HoloNet. From this facility, the Separatists used the Shadowfeeds to sway the opinions of Republic citizens to peace. During the battle, Tarkin had activated the PAL, shut down the droid fleet in orbit, raided the Corporate Alliance headquarters, tortured the scientists, journalists, and technicians operating the Shadowfeeds, and put thousands of civilians to death. The political fallout was so great, that the Jedi had then assigned Even Piell to watch Tarkin's every move for the remainder of the war—or at least the remainder of Even Piell's life.
What Tarkin didn't know, of course, was that Palpatine was a dark lord of the Sith, and that the Separatist PAL had been obtained because Palpatine was also secretly in charge of the Separatists. The Sith Lord had the ability to shut down their droids at any time… in theory. Doing so without first winning a decisive battle, however, would raise serious questions. With the shut-down originating on Coruscant, anyone operating a comm station could figure out that the Republic shut the droids down. Anyone with even marginal experience with droid interfaces or communications networks would quickly figure out the Galactic Republic could have shut down the droids at any time, a line of thought which would inevitably lead to the conclusion that the entire Clone Wars were staged. A battle, or at least a Murkhana-style massacre on a Separatist stronghold was absolutely necessary to maintain the fiction of the Clone Wars' legitimacy and reality.
"Of course Excellency," Tarkin said, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Do you fear another communications breach?"
"No, this is about ending the war," Sidious said, ducking into a side corridor leading to the speeder pads. "New intelligence sources have uncovered a Trade Federation-owned droid uplink station on a remote world in the Western Reaches."
"And you have another Separatist Permissive Action Link device?"
"Indeed," Sidious said, a wry smirk forming in the corner of his mouth. He brandished the device, no bigger than a hairbrush, from one of his robe pockets. "The terminal is in the Klegger Corp Mining Facility… On Mustafar."
"A droid uplink station…" Tarkin muttered to himself, realization dawning. "Tied to all of the droids in the Western Reaches then? We can shut down an entire front? An excellent plan!"
The Sith Lord passed the PAL into Tarkin's hands. "It's even better than you realize. This terminal is in the secret backup headquarters of the Separatist War Council. It is capable of transmitting to all droid armies in the entire Galaxy."
"We can end the war," Tarkin said breathlessly, his eyes wide in shock. "How have I not heard of this? Does Isard—"
"No, no," Sidious interrupted. "This, my friend, comes from my own personal intelligence network."
Tarkin gulped, anticipation pouring from him. "How reliable is the information?"
"Completely reliable," Sidious said reassuringly. "Your orders are to assemble a taskforce and head to Mustafar immediately, capture the facility intact by any means necessary, and shut down the droids. Permanently."
"And if we should find the Separatist Council there at the time of our assault?" Tarkin inquired, clasping his hands at the small of his back.
Sidious smiled chillingly. He planned on ordering the Separatist High Council to relocate there, perfectly in position to be eliminated. Coming from a non-Force-sensitive like Tarkin, the question was uncannily prescient. "Their crimes are such that any court in the Galaxy would give them the death sentence… Exterminate them all and the Separatist 'Senate' will have no choice but to sue for peace. We would…" He paused, hearing the metallic clank of droid footsteps.
"My apologies for disturbing you, Excellency," said a silver-colored protocol droid, "But your senior aide Sly Moore wishes to speak with you. She says it is urgent."
Sidious briefly turned back to Tarkin. "Inform me when you are ready to launch."
Tarkin nodded. "Yes, Excellency."
The Sith Lord followed the droid down the corridor to the landing pad. Standing in the doorway, he found his Force-sensitive Umbaran aide and assassin, Sly Moore.
"We have a problem," she said in a hushed whisper, walking back toward the speeder.
"We have a lot more than one problem," Sidious said in a tired voice. "I assume you are referring to the unfortunate lack of Jedi action thus far." As he neared the speeder, he saw 11-4D seated in the back seat, with the orange Coruscant sunset gleaming off his metal frame.
"No, my Lord," the Umbaran said quickly, waiting for Sidious to take a seat. When he did, she added, "That is a problem, but we have lost control of the media."
Sidious rubbed his eyes. "We never had control of the media."
"Well, that's true," Sly sighed, seating herself immediately behind the driver, directly across from Sidious in the passenger compartment. She nodded to the driver, who set off, flying towards the Republic Executive Building. "The media has turned on us though."
Without saying a word, 11-4D activated a holoprojector from above his right eye, projecting a live news feed into the center of the passenger compartment. The holopresence was of a dark-skinned woman with frizzy hair, whom Sidious instantly recognized the face of either Clahra Fair or her twin sister, Anora Fair—both were some of the most popular journalists employed by CoreNews.
"We have not received any transmissions from within for more than twenty minutes. Well, I'll say it then. The Jedi Temple is under siege," she reported . "This, just hours after the Jedi Order rescued the Chancellor…" she seemed to lose her train of thought in a rare moment of unprofessionalism. Red anger flushed her face. "When will this insanity end? Why is the GAR following such an insane order? Where are the opposition leaders? Where is Bail Organa?!"
The view on the vidscreen was bisected by a dark line, and then a twin image of the reporter now occupied the right half of the broadcast, seated behind a desk in a brightly-lit studio. Now both of the Fair sisters were labeled, with the frizzy-haired one labeled Anora Fair and the sister with longer still curly hair labeled Clahra. Beneath both reporters, the words TEMPLE UNDER SIEGE appeared in solid yellow letters. Ticking across the bottom of the screen were other increasingly concerning headlines.
CSF COMMAND TO HOLD PRESS CONFERENCE ON CORUSCANT GUARD USE OF FORCE.
ANONYMOUS NAVY SOURCE SUGGESTS REVERSAL IN THE WAR EFFORT.
RIOT AT SOB ARCA BARRACKS; CLONE AGAINST CLONE?
"Those are questions we'd all like to know the answer to," said Anora Fair. "Where is Bail Organa? Where—"
"Where is Mas Amedda?" Sidious asked, anger rising. The temperature in the luxury speeder began to fall.
"My Lord, the Vice Chancellor is where you ordered him—he's at the Senate Rotunda!" Sly Moore stammered.
"By my calculations," said 11-4D, "Your chances of successfully retaining power reduce by two percent every thirty minutes the siege is permitted to continue. My Lord, is it not possible to order an attack on the Temple now?"
Sidious sat back in his chair, frowning. It was one thing to claim the Jedi had attacked him and quite another to actually have the evidence of an attack. Personally, he would prefer to massacre the Jedi right now, but he had seen visions of the future in which Mace Windu and a Jedi strike force attacked first. In these visions, the Sith Lord had overpowered all of the Jedi except Windu, who instead had been killed following intervention by Anakin Skywalker.
Such an attack would solidify his claims that the Jedi Order was out of control—that they wanted to take over the government. An attack like that would give him the absolute mandate necessary to end the Jedi rebellion by any means necessary, and secure Anakin as his apprentice once and for all. The temple siege would have to continue until the Jedi were provoked into a rash response.
"We must wait for the Jedi to make the next move," Sidious said at long last. He could sense that Sly Moore objected, but she made no effort to voice her objection.
"Well, this channel is relatively mild compared to HNE, my Lord," 11-4D said in his robotic monotone, which made his statement sound all the more dry.
The holoprojection changed, and a scene dominated by a female Bith anchor appeared where Clahra and Anora Fair had been moments ago.
"—opened fire!" the Bith whisper-yelled, seeming to shirk with fear as she continued. "Are you getting this?!" she asked an unseen camera man.
Sidious could sense panic rising in the Bith—a panic so great that whatever she was capturing could be no less than a matter of life and death.
"Her name is Nihi Duss," 11-4D said. "This reporter has never had a favorable view of your leadership."
Peering around the pillar, the camera view shifted cautiously. It zoomed in on a smokey marketplace in the dim Coruscant underworld, the darkness only broken by a dozen green and blue glows of lightsabers and the flashes of blasterfire.
Squads of Clones were weaving through the stalls, opening fire indiscriminately on an equally-large group of Jedi. Only, as the footage continued, it became clear that these were not full-grown Jedi.
A teenage Wookiee Jedi whom Sidious instantly recognized as Gungi, hacked down, slicing through the chestplate of an advancing Clone. He roared, swinging his lightsaber left and right threateningly.
"The Clones are continuing their pursuit of the Jedi Younglings," Nihi narrated, "And the children are now pinned down in the Uhmandasee Market. As you can see," she continued, raising her voice dramatically as a Zabrak Jedi youngling joined Gungi. Both of them carefully deflected fire back at the Clones, ignoring the civilians who were running by. "The children are taking great care not to injure any civilians. Troopers of the Grand Army of the Republic, however, are doing anything but… They—Oh my! I am at a loss for words."
In the midst of blasterfire, an Ithorian stepped forward from behind a stall, waving a pan angrily. His emergence distracted the squad long enough for Gungi and the Zabrak child to flee.
Seeming to regain her train of thought, the Bith began narrating again. "A shopkeeper seems to be trying to calm the Republic troopers down… Viewers, I will remind you again, do not attempt this. The troopers of the Grand Army of the Republic have—
In what was a ridiculous amount of disproportionate force, two of the Clones opened fire on the unarmed civilian. Plumes of fire erupted from the Ithorian's abdomen, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Sidious locked his jaw, unable to tear his gaze from the screen. "Do you have that squad leader's CT number?"
"I'm trying to get it, my Lord," 11-4D said, continuing to broadcast the live feed. "The quality is not high enough for me to obtain it visually. I am searching deployments… Searching…"
"Oh my! Did you get that?!" Nihi asked her cameraman. The view was still focused on the Younglings, who were sprinting between columns of stalls. "Once again we are witnessing Clones indiscriminately slaughtering civilians, right here on Coruscant. The Grand Army of the Republic, the Coruscant Guard no less, who are supposed to be protecting—"
"WHAT IS HIS CT-NUMBER?!" Sidious yelled, fists clenched as he felt himself beginning to lose control.
"Still searching. I know he is a Coruscant Guardsman—"
"I know that by looking at his armor," Sidious spat. He looked out the window to the speeder traffic. "Get me down there."
"My Lord," the Umbaran cautioned, "Going down to a firefight with Jedi… I can't see the media looking favorably—"
"My plan is not to fight those Jedi Younglings! Get me down there!" Sidious repeated, using the Force to amplify his voice. He felt the speeder jerk hard and pitch down as it turned around, descending into the lower layers of air traffic. But he could not peel his eyes from the news broadcast.
On the holoprojection, the male Zabrak youngling fell to the ground, flames sprouting from his back.
"Oh dear!" Nihi gasped. "Another of the Younglings has been shot. The Wookiee, I have been informed is named Gungi, is trying—Oh my!"
Gungi ducked down, barely evading a shot aimed for his head. Tears in his eyes, he bared his fangs at the Clones.
"Can we get audio?"
"Working on it," said a technician off-screen. "Working on it…"
Two more Padawans, a Tholothian and Rodian female, leapt over the stalls and landed at each of Gungi's sides. They covered the Wookiee with their lightsabers, deflecting shots while Gungi tried to render aid.
After a few moments, the Tholothian said something to Gungi, and he shook his head sadly. Then all three Younglings leapt away, leaving the Zabrak's body.
"To our viewers just tuning in," Nihi said over the action, "It seems the Grand Army of the Republic has murdered another Youngling. My sources inform me that Zabrak's name was Vastu. We will add him to the list of Jedi murdered in cold blood."
Sidious shuddered. He never had anticipated losing control of the narrative so completely. Now some news agency out there was making a list of fallen Jedi, undoing an entire war's worth of bad publicity of the Jedi.
After I become Emperor, Sidious promised himself, HNE News will be—
"My Lord!" Sly Moore gasped, pointing forward to the windshield. "She's—HNE—They've…" The Umbaran's confusion was so great that she was unable to explain what she was even seeing, but she didn't need to.
Sidious himself gasped.
The luxury speeder was now flying in the lowest level of traffic, just a few meters off the ground and, overhead, was a digital HNE advertising billboard. Even though his death had only been seconds before, an image of the Zabrak Youngling's smiling face was already displayed. Under it, the aurebesh caption read:
"VASTU—MURDERED BY GAR CLONES! On 16.05.20 GrS at least 236 innocent Jedi were murdered by troopers loyal to the Grand Army of the Republic. The reason remains unknown. You can help—dial the holocomm number 000 672 0405 1267 to report sightings of mad clones."
It took a moment for Sidious to reassure himself that, surely, more than 236 Jedi were now slain. These are only the Jedi HNE knows about… And yet, things were not going to plan.
The Jedi Temple still stood. Half of the military seemed to be bordering on mutiny. The Senate opposition had the numbers to force a vote on Order 65 if Sidious didn't stop them. The media was completely out of his control, and even worse, anti-Clone propaganda was being spontaneously created in support of the Jedi.
"This is impossible," Sidious said aloud, shaking his head as if to wake himself from a bad dream.
On the holoprojection, the view suddenly snapped back to the Bith. "We are—WE ARE UNDER FIRE!" Nihi yelled over the tumult of blasterfire. Behind her, bits of the pillar she had been taking cover behind were crumbling away.
A second of panic went by before one of the cameramen or technicians emerged into view, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her back to safety.
"The GAR troopers have sighted us!" Nihi continued, speaking quickly as she ran. The Bith moved her hand to the collar of her shirt, activating a mic in her clothes. "Change locations!"
Everything grew shaky as the journalist and her crew ran, blasterfire illuminating the underworld gloom all around them.
Fear and terror were tools, but this was not going to strike fear in the public. It was going to be an outrage. If there was anything in the Galaxy that would turn the entire media against his new Empire, it would be journalists being murdered in cold blood on live holovids. No matter how much military power Sidious wielded, the media would always have the power of setting the narrative—deciding how the people of the Galaxy see things. With a populace opposed to his rule, the Galaxy would simply be impossible to control, whether or not the Sith Grand Plan was successful.
"GET ME DOWN THERE!" Sidious yelled once more.
"We're going double the speed limit," the driver reported.
"Apologies to our viewers if the footage becomes grainy, but we remain under fire," the Bith continued, "This is Nihi of HNE, reporting live from the Uhmandasee Market. To our viewers just watching this, GAR troopers of the Galactic Republic have fired on Jedi Younglings. Now, they are firing on us for the purposes of stopping this broadcast. I only wonder whether the Chancellor himself has given the order. Whether the Chancellor—"
In the periphery of the camera view, one of the technicians, a Givin male, was shot in the shoulder blade. He cried out, stumbling as an Arconan cameraman helped him stand.
"Our sound expert Yantril Traav has been seriously wounded," Nihi said quickly, panting for breath. "Shot with a blaster held by a trooper taking orders from Sheev Palpatine. Shot by an… Oh." The Bith stopped running, and so did everyone else.
Wearing white and red Coruscant Guard armor, Clones converged from all sides, aiming their blasters at the journalist and her crew.
Mentally crossing his fingers Sidious closed his eyes, hoping against hope that these troopers would have the sense not to shoot an HNE reporter… At least not on a live holobroadcast.
"One must wonder how it is that the GAR has descended this far," Nihi said loudly, directly pointing at the Clone troopers. "How is it that Sheev Palpatine can unleash this insanity the day before he is set to be voted out of office? Where is the opposition? Where is Bail Organa? Trooper, for the record, where did—"
Nihi never finished her final question. As she approached the squad leader, the Clones opened fire. For five gruesome seconds, Nihi, her camera crew, and technicians screamed while blaster shots ripped through their bodies. Then all was silent, and the camera continued recording when the Clones stooped down to check their bodies.
From this moment, Sidious knew he would have not even twenty four hours before the government turned on him. Opposition had to be contained or eliminated now. "Pilot," he finally managed.
"Yes my Lord?" the pilot asked, circling the speeder around the portal to the underworld.
"Disregard my last order. Take us to the Executive Annex." He looked from Sly Moore to 11-4D. "We need to ascertain Bail Organa's whereabouts, immediately."