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The Weaving Force: Chapter 146
🕑 Added 2025-10-30 23:25:23 +0000 UTCChapter 146:
I can guess what you’re here for. I’ve had god knows how many interviews at this point.
I’ll tell you what I’ve told all the others.
None of us saw it coming.
The Committees and investigations all came later- deals came to light, back room negotiations, sure. But none of us knew, none of us really knew what he was. We never even suspected it could have ever gotten as bad as it got. A backroom trade deal, maybe a business transaction for an equity firm that’s one thing but…
No…
None of us ever knew what Palpatine was. Or… at the very least I didn’t.
If I had… well… too late for regrets.
Cerean Central News:
Interview with Senator Ulchtar Genvo, survivor of the Coruscant Massacre
Date: 3/22nd Galactic Standard 2:04 PM Coruscanti time
—
Padme
Her morning was not going particularly well at all.
She could say it was the Jedi ‘bodyguards’, but if she were being honest that was only a very small part of the problem.
Yes, it was irritating that they’d cut her morning with Anakin somewhat short with their arrival.
Yes, they were distracting with the way they patrolled around the house and how she could hear them just outside her home’s office door.
Yes, it was even genuinely infuriating that she had to take the extra laborious steps to hide her pregnancy even in the sanctity of her own home.
But genuinely, it wasn’t really them if she were being completely honest. Yes, these were all annoyances, but she was no stranger to any of them. Anakin was frequently pulled away by his duties and she to hers. She was used to being watched at all hours of the day by her aides, her actual bodyguards and staff, and even frequently did go to great lengths to hide her pregnancy in seemingly private locations. After all, the paparazzi lacked scruples anywhere in the galaxy.
No, what truly had screwed up her morning was her friend, Bail Organa.
Shortly after she sat down to get to work, Bail and Mothma called for an emergency session of the Senate. Using their combined authority and the backing of the signatory worlds of both Alderaan and Chandrila, they had the numbers to completely force the session over everyone’s heads and protests. Regardless of where they were or what plans or engagements they had, every senator needed to drop everything and rush to the Senate. If you weren’t present, you abstained from the vote and it would be counted in favor of whatever legislation, if any, was proposed.
Naturally everyone showed up, because no one wanted their votes counted against their interests or their constituents if you weren’t allied with the party that did this.
This move was exceedingly rare, and for Bail of all people to invoke it, she knew something truly important must be happening.
But when you’re nine months pregnant, suddenly needing to drop everything, get dressed in your far too elaborate gowns to hide your pregnancy while under the watchful eye of the Jedi around you and being bombarded with a half dozen calls in the span of as many seconds to try and find out what was going on because this move was made by your very known ally and close friend, it went from being a shocking disruption to a day ruining event.
And so, she felt she was justifiably… miffed and had every right to be.
So when she finally had a chance to pick up her holo and call, she could be forgiven, in her opinion, for practically snapping at the man. “Bail, you’d best have a very good reason for all of this!”
It didn’t take her very long to notice her friend’s somewhat… haggard appearance, at least by his usually immaculate standards. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say Bail looked almost… afraid.
Immediately, her worry began to overtake her annoyance. “Bail, what’s-
“Padme.” He began at the same time, accidentally interrupting her. “Sorry, but listen. I need you to come to the Jedi Temple.”
Now Padme’s eyebrows hiked up well into her hairline. “Bail, you just called an emergency session of the Senate!”
“I know, I know, but Padme, please, I’m asking you as your friend to trust me and come to the Jedi Temple. Do not go to the Senate Rotunda, there’s too much risk.”
Risk? “First the Jedi show up with a small army of knights at my doorstep, unannounced, and now you’re asking me to come to the Jedi Temple? What’s going on, Bail? Is this about the threat on my life?” Just how serious was this threat? She’d barely given it a second thought beyond the ‘inconvenience’ of it this morning. A woman in her position received death threats all the time, doubly so when you held sole authority over the control chips of the Corellian Guard.
For a moment, Bail looked like the question caused him physical pain before he shook his head. “I can’t say over an unsecure channel. But I am here, imploring you with all urgency, please take this request on trust and come to the Jedi Temple. You’ll be safe here.”
She balked. “Safe? While you go to the Senate to do… whatever this is all about?”
Had Anakin known about any of this happening? No. No, he’d been just as surprised as she was to see the Jedi here this morning. Oh, how she wished she could call him directly.
She wanted to press, to ask for more information, for him to give some inkling as to what the hell he intended to do here.
But then there was a knock at her door, and Knight Shryne entered with a slightly apologetic look on his features.
“Senator,” He cleared his throat, looking rather uncomfortable. “I’ve just been contacted by the Jedi Council, they-”
“Oh, let me guess.” She cut him off, it was the height of rudeness but she was more than a bit angry at the moment. “They’d like you to bring me to the Jedi Temple for ‘reasons’?” She waved the holocommunicator in her hand, Bail’s holo form flickering a bit as he was whipped through the air. “Yes, I rather got the message, too.”
“Padme, I would not ask this if it wasn’t of extreme importance, you know that.” Bail pleaded again.
She glared at her long time friend, one of her oldest friends. All of her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as everything warred in her mind.
Her responsibility as a senator, her responsibility to her children, her own pride chafing at being meekly told to go hide in a temple while events of galactic importance were happening without so much as an inkling of what they might be, and her innate dislike at being told what to do.
In the end, however, she ground her teeth, deciding that at the Temple, if she couldn’t get straight answers from Bail, she could get them from Anakin. And if neither of them would answer her, no one said she had to stay at the blasted temple. The shuttle ride to the Rotunda was ten minutes. Even on the fastest of days, ten minutes was barely enough time for most of her colleagues to even tie their shoe laces.
“Fine.” She spat out and could see the immediate relief in not only on Bail’s expression, but in the slight sagging of Knight Shryne’s shoulders. “Give me a moment to gather my effects.” She demanded and then glared at Bail. “I expect a thorough explanation once I arrive!”
Bail nodded and she hung up, turning away with a huff.
—
Taylor
The Jedi, or more specifically the Council, moved very quickly after the meeting was finalized. Alexandria and the other politicians would head to the Senate Building ahead of us, just long enough for Bail to convene an emergency meeting of the Senate without anyone getting spooked or not showing up with an army of Jedi surrounding the grounds.
That just left our jobs.
A part of me was surprised. Another part of me, maybe the Jedi part of me, understood.
They had been waiting for this.
Windu and Yoda both delivered rapidfire orders to everyone.
The Jedi that would take over for the Council if the worst happened would be evacuated immediately.
Master Yoda and Master Windu would, as mentioned before, lead the Jedi that would go to the Senate. With them would be Obi-Wan, Aayla Secura, Anakin and myself.
Every single unchipped clone would have a red mark identifying them on their helmet and their right arm. Something visually distinct enough to stand out, but not easily replicated by the chipped clones if it came down to a firefight.
There was talk about bringing Vicky with us, but even I could agree that it was already an almost excessive level of battle strength that we had on hand, and my powers were better suited for tagging and making sure Palpatine couldn’t escape or slip past us somehow.
Vicky would stay in the Temple, to either defend it with Masters Billaba, Gallia, Poof and Yaddle, or as an emergency reserve if she was absolutely needed. Poof himself would be coordinating his commandos and Shadows to begin monitoring all communication traffic of note.
She wasn’t happy about it, in her place I wouldn’t have been happy about it either, but she agreed with the logic behind it. Probably because she also knew, which many of the other Councilors didn’t, that with Alexandria there, her powerset was almost redundant.
That just left the fleets above. Masters Rancisis, Saesee Tiin, Halcyon, Shaak Ti, Kit Fisto and Kolar would head into orbit, Tiin and Rancisis with the whole of their fleets, and Shaak Ti and Kolar with smaller flotillas to take control of the orbital assets around Coruscant.
As the rush of activity whirled around us, catching everyone in the eye of this storm all of a sudden, Vicky’s hand slipped over mine, our fingers hidden by Jedi robes as I turned to look at her.
She smiled at me, that same cocky grin and wink that always had her charm behind it. “Give him one solid kick in the balls. You know, since I won’t be there.”
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you love me for it.”
I wouldn’t deny it. Not really. “I’m leaving you Noble team.” I said quickly.
I saw her expression slacken for a moment, obvious surprise halting her. “But-”
“I’ll be alright.” I promised. If Palpatine was somehow strong enough to kill all of us and Alexandria, then I doubted my squad would be the difference maker. Better they were here, where at the absolute worst they would get Vicky, Karla and Iskt off this rock.
Vicky’s jaw worked, and I wondered if she’d read my mind before she offered a stiff, hinging nod. She didn’t like it. None of us liked any of this.
But both of us understood.
She offered my hand one more squeeze, and then paused, before I recognized an impending “Vicky moment” about to happen.
Quickly, she darted forward, planting a quick kiss on my lips, no doubt some of the Jedi Masters around us must have seen it but she must’ve been beyond giving a damn.
She pulled away, smiling with a wink before turning her back, slipping on her serious expression as she marched over to Billaba and Gallia who, I don’t think actually saw us… or they’d turned away very, very quickly.
Before she made good on her escape, however, a solid thwack of stick hitting shin had her jumping in pain with a hiss and a nasty look.
I didn’t even look at Yoda’s expression. I didn’t wanna get hit next.
I turned and followed behind Windu, calling Noble to give them their assignment.
Before too long we were on our gunships, almost five hundred of them, rising into the sky and rushing headlong towards the Senate Building. Already, I could hear comms blaring as Coruscant air control rapidly tried to understand what was going on.
The clones ignored the hails.
One way or another, this would be over today.
—
Roan Shryne
“Mas-err, Knight Shryne.”
He spared a quick glance at his fellow Jedi ‘Knight’, doing his best to control his expression as he looked around, making sure no one had overheard the slip before looking rather pointedly at Master Velti.
Not a single one of them were Knights. They were all Jedi Masters and they knew what was at stake. The habits might have been ingrained, but the slip was not one that could be tolerated and they both knew it.
While Shryne had his doubts that Amidala knew anything about the Chancellor’s true nature, especially now (after all, he couldn’t imagine that a Sith asset with as much value as Amidala had would let themselves get pregnant) the precautions were still necessary. Who knew what monitoring the Chancellor might have in place.
All eight of them had been carefully chosen, Masters who were well tested in combat but didn’t enjoy the fame of Obi-Wan, Voss, Skywalker and so on. They were never at the head of legions, merely assisting in more obscure missions and assignments along the peripheries of the conflict.
If a Jedi Knight, even eight of them, arrived, people didn’t exactly go spreading the word.
If Master Windu, Dallon, Hebert or others did… well… word tended to get around very quickly.
“What is it, Knight Velti?”
Velti jerked her head a bit, gesturing past Shryne with a quick upturn of her head. “Lots of movement now.”
Shryne turned around, peering off into the distant silhouette of the Senate Rotunda, squinting as he gazed into the distance, past the Rotunda.
Yeah… yeah, the white dots on the horizon drawing closer from the Jedi Temple. Those were definitely clone gunships. He’d seen so many over the past few years he was practically counting them to get to sleep most nights.
He sighed, aggravated. “We have to move now.” He muttered to himself, this time out loud rather than internally. He doubted that Amidala was in cahoots with Palpatine but that didn’t mean the length of time she was taking to ‘gather her things’ was exactly helping their situation much, either.
He turned away from the window, marching briskly across the room and up the stairs leading to the master bedroom.
Clearing his throat, he gently knocked on the sealed doorway. “Senator. Forgive me, but I’m afraid circumstances compel me to insist we hurry.”
Perhaps he was being too gentle but she was pregnant, and this day, even if everything went smoothly, would be stressful enough as it was.
Luckily, the door hissed open and the Senator emerged. Her clothing, a rather voluminous set of robes in white and purple, was in place and she did look ready to go, her hair done up in a rather elaborately folded ‘crown’ with some sparing makeup.
“I understand.” She answered, though she looked irritated and her voice was not quite cold, but definitely not happy either. He saw a protocol droid just past her, beginning to put away the elaborate hair tools. “Shall I take my own shuttle or-”
“For security reasons, I must ask that you accompany us on ours.” He said.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and seemingly counting back from ten. “Very well…”
Turning away, she swept past him, and Shryne could empathize with her annoyance before he turned and followed behind her.
Calling the others, the collection of Jedi ‘Knights’ began to gather at the landing platform.
When the Senator saw that the intended shuttle were two LAAT gunships, Shryne could visibly see her fury mounting.
“Eight Jedi Knights, two fully armed gunships, being asked to march to the Temple with no idea as to why; what’s next, a battalion of clones hiding in a bush? What is this, Master Jedi?”
Shryne tried very hard not to wince. While it wasn’t a battalion, there were indeed two ten man squads of unchipped arc troopers very, very close by.
“I know that all of this must be very alarming, Senator, but once we reach the Temple, I’m certain the Council can address all your concerns and answer every one of your questions.”
She wasn’t happy, she didn’t like it, but even so she swallowed down her anger and marched forward, boarding the gunship.
The relief he felt was like coolant through his veins, shoulders sagging before he turned to the other Jedi, ordering them onto the ship.
The Senator was seated in one of the few seats, strapping herself in for the journey. LAAT’s were reliable, but not exactly comfortable. They were standing on a moving vehicle after all and given her condition, regardless of how she tried to hide it, the idea of standing and falling inside this ship must not have been a pleasant one.
Four Jedi boarded this ship with him, four boarded the other, the armored doors sliding closed.
The LAAT’s engines just began to lift off when it all went horribly wrong.
—
Padme
She didn’t really know what happened; the crash jerked her body in the harness like a doll, whipping her head and limbs in every direction. The back of her skull smacked hard into the seat and for all its padding, it still sent stars dancing through her vision, her eyes swimming in their sockets as sound, pain and vertigo all melded together in a disorienting lurch that completely removed all awareness of her surroundings.
She came to with the sound of blasterfire, crackling flames, the sight of a dead Jedi Knight and the howling of ship engines.
Even so, Padme didn’t move, her active mind struggling to catch up.
She heard the snap-hiss of lightsabers, then the chirps of blades striking energy and the high pitched bursts of blaster fire, all swimming through sludge in her mind and ears.
Their voices were so far away.
“RED TEAM, ENGAGE! ENGAGE! CONTACT, I REPEA-”
“WE CAN’T RAISE MASTER PLO-”
Someone rushed into her field of view. Knight Shryne, a cut above his eye, bleeding a waterfall of red down his face, and a burn across his lower jaw. The Knight’s blue saber hummed beside Padme’s face and she remembered that there was a threat on her life earlier, shying away from the dangerous blade as she wondered where her guards were.
But then the blade drew close, and Padme felt the sudden lurch of her body as the harness securing her to the seat was cut and she fell into the Knight’s arms.
She was moved, feet barely cooperating as she began to fight the disorientation, recognizing that she was in danger.
“Wh-what-”
“Red team-” The Knight grunted as he pulled her free of the wreckage. “Red team, do you copy? We’re engaged, Jedi Hunter and super battle droids on site.”
She couldn’t hear an answer, but suddenly the howling screech of engines and the buffeting winds of another LAAT gunship immediately sent her mind reeling.
Clones leapt free of the interior, already firing their blasters and heavy weapons into whatever was behind her, while bright, neon green beams burst out of the underside pods.
“Comms jammed, General!” A clone said as his boots crunched into the ground. “Can’t hear shit and can’t raise Central Command.”
“Get her out of here!” Knight Shryne commanded, moving to hand her off.
“Yes si-”
There was a sound, a tremendous crashing screech of metal crunching and folding like paper. A shadow passed overhead and dazed as she was, when she looked up, the harsh sunlight burned at her eyes but she could still see a writhing mass of flesh and tentacles, armored plates and bulging sinew tearing at the gunship’s cockpit, the twin laser pods now shooting wildly as the vehicle lost control.
Like a rubber band snapping back into itself, Padme’s cognisance finally caught up to the moment, her adrenaline spiking as her heart hammered under her ribs, fear punching through her chest like a stake as the gunship began to crash.
“Move! Move!”
The trooper rushed forward, grabbing hold of her before pulling her with him, damn near carrying her in his rush as Knight Shryne held up his hands, trying to use the Force to divert the crashing vessel.
The thing fell, then listed in the air just for a moment, just enough to miss the Jedi and the place Padme and the trooper had been standing in by about a foot.
But the side pod was still shooting.
And as the ship crashed it swiveled on its housing, and Knight Shryne probably never even realized he was dead before a green laser sliced the top part of his skull, from lower ear to temple, clean off.
The laser kept going, and the trooper dove over her body, as if he could physically shield her from it as it passed right over their heads. At least one other Jedi, contending with two Jedi Hunter droids, was caught unaware. She heard clones scream, the sudden burst of ruptured power cores and falling metal bodies.
Skycars blared their horns, warning klaxons from the flight lanes sounded out, safety shielding sprang to life and pure chaos exploded all around her.
The mass of writhing flesh rose up from the crash, three clone troopers in its grip. They screamed as their bodies were crushed, one trying futilely to stab at the wriggling mound he was trapped in with a vibroknife, his strikes growing more frantic as his bones, armor and body were slowly crushed before he went stiff and then finally slack with a deafening crunch.
Only when it reached its full height did she see the faceplate and recognize who this was.
Durge, the Gendai bounty hunter.
The trooper that had tackled her drew his side arm, firing into the blob as Jedi interposed themselves between her and the charging monster.
“GET HER OUT!” Someone shouted before one of the Jedi tore a whole section of the wall of her home down over the Hunter’s head, burying him in rubble, giving the trooper enough time to reach down, lifting her in a hasty carry before activating his jump pack to sail up to the roof.
“Central! Central, do you read? This is Red Actual, Epsilon contingency! I say again, Epsilon contingency! VIP in danger of capture!”
Padme’s heart hammered under her ribs, her confusion muddling her thoughts as her mind raced to understand.
They reached the roof, the trooper’s boot nearly catching on the railing. “If anyone is hearing this, I need an evac right-”
There was a shimmer in the air beside him, and Padme only just managed to scream out a warning before a one handed scatterblaster blew the trooper’s skull open.
Padme fell, the armored body falling with her, collapsing on top of her as her back slammed hard onto the apartment roof. She only just had enough presence of mind to place her hands on his shoulders to keep him from crushing her unborn child under his weight.
The air was knocked out of her, but still her arms held firm, joints locked even as the rest of her trembled with adrenaline, fear, and barely checked panic.
She tried to push the literal dead weight off her, but the trooper was armored and she had very little leverage.
The shimmer that had just killed her rescuer came again, the cloak falling away, to reveal the blood red eyes of a Duros standing over her.
The Duros pulled a communicator from his pocket. “Bane here. Got her, come in for a pickup.”
The man reached down, and Padme eyed the falling trooper’s gun still laying loosely in his slack grip.
With a burst of motion she let the trooper go, his full weight falling on her before she snapped her now free hands to reach for the weapon.
She managed to grab hold of the grip, only just beginning to pull it up to aim before a heavy boot crunched down on the weapon, pinning it to the floor.
“He warned me you wouldn’t go quietly.” The hunter said, kneeling down, his hand pressing on the dead trooper’s back to add his weight to the man’s bulk.
Padme whimpered, fear almost choking her.
“Take it easy, Senator.” Bane smiled. “You’re in a delicate condition, after all.”
—
Hannah
She’d never had reason to visit the Senate Rotunda before. Hell, she hadn’t even really been to Coruscant more than twice, once for work as part of Satine’s continued cooperation with Corellia to hunt down Death Watch members, and once to celebrate Taylor’s birthday. Victoria and the Clones had thrown her a surprise party.
Pulling off surprise on someone with local omniscience had certainly been… an experience. It was no wonder Hebert had proven so dangerous and impossible to pin down, at least according to Dennis’ stories and memories, seldom as he recounted them.
But Victoria had managed. She was surprisingly resourceful and scary when she was determined.
But back on point, outside of blueprints she didn’t know anything about the Senate Rotunda beyond its exterior dome. Now, as Satine arrived, Hannah felt herself slip into the old, well worn shoes of Miss Militia. She watched the senators as they passed by, including their aides and guards. She noted the clones in the hallways - these were chipped - but there weren’t many. They were guarding hallways, main thoroughfares, and a few key locations like the security room and the power relay.
Recalling the layout of the blueprints in exacting detail, she made a quick mental overlay of where the guards were stationed so far, and deduced where they’d be stationed around the building if the pattern held.
If her math was accurate, there would be around five hundred chipped clones. A sizable force, but vastly outnumbered by the thousands of clones and hundreds of Jedi on their way right behind her.
Besides herself, Aras was of course here, but so was commander Cadera and two other members of Satine’s Royal Guard. Five fully armed and armored Mandalorians. It was considerably more firepower than any other politician had in the building on hand, but it was unlikely they’d be outright stopped, not before everything was done.
Satine moved and acted with the practiced grace of someone who had long since become accustomed to putting her life at risk, and Hannah had to admit, it was genuinely impressive how incredibly calm the woman seemed. Even amicably chatting with a few ‘old friends’, some of whom seemed genuinely delighted and surprised to see her.
But she gave absolutely nothing away, even as the hammer rose up and made ready to come down over everyone’s heads.
For all her ideals of pacifism and butting heads with Alexandria, Hannah could almost laugh at the reality that her new boss was just as good at deception as her old one.
—
Cad Bane
The EML-850 light freighter, Bane had to admit, was an almost ideal ship for their needs here.
Large enough to carry a dozen and a half Jedi Hunter droids and more, armored enough to ram a much lighter LAAT gunship and come away clean, armed well enough to shoot down the other one and fast enough to get away before reinforcements showed up.
The inside had been almost completely hollowed out to make room for the droids. Even with the mini army they’d dumped back there to keep the last of the Jedi and clones busy to cover their retreat, he still had four droidekas, eight super battle droids, and two massive things he’d heard called MagnaGuards. Cutting edge new models.
Even so, for all intents and purposes, there were no ‘rooms’ inside the vessel anymore, just the engine room, the entry ramp, the cockpit and a place in the corner to keep the Senator in. They were basically flying a metal ballroom now that half the space had been cleared with a chunk of the droids gone.
The crew for this job, if you could call five hunters connected by a paycheck a crew, had Durge as the muscle, a Patrolian tech expert and saboteur Robonino who had devised the gear that was jamming the comms, their pilot, a Weequay man named Shahan Alama, and a Chadra-Fan droid expert in charge of keeping the droids in top condition while they were smuggled onto Coruscant.
And himself, the one coordinating this merry little band.
He cast one look at the Senator. There were mag cuffs around her wrists, bound to the chair she was sitting on. A pregnant woman wasn’t much trouble, especially with Durge looming over her, but Amidala had a bit of a reputation for getting out of troubled spots. He’d take no chances.
He marched into the cockpit, leaning through the doorway. “Keep it nice and steady. We don’t need to attract attention. Just one of a million other ships on the lanes.”
“I know how to do my job.” The Weequay shot back, hands on the steering. “Traffic being what it is, we’ll get to the exit sector in seventeen minutes, another nine to head up and break atmo, then around twenty more before we hit hyperspace.”
Planets like Coruscant had designated locations to enter and break the atmosphere, otherwise it’d be pure chaos across the skies. Boss had designated three specific sectors where they could leave safely, the others nearest to the Republica, the Senate and the Jedi would all be too closely monitored for that.
So, in total twenty-six minutes. In twenty-six minutes, once they broke the atmosphere and if nothing was on their tail, they’d basically be home free. It was near impossible to track a single ship once you broke the atmosphere in a system like Coruscant, not without a lot of droids burning out their processors scanning for IFF’s across the system.
He nodded. “Good.” Turning away from him he shut the cockpit door, ignoring the Chadra-Fan machinist who fiddled with the MagnaGuards.
“Shame we didn’t get to see these bad boys in action.” He lamented with a high pitched chuckle.
Bane shrugged. The droids were big and mean looking. The machinist,Troo-tril-tek, said they were made as a more mass production friendly version of the CIS’ cyborg monster, Grievous, but he didn’t care. Not needing to use them meant the plan had gone off without a hitch, and that was always the best thing when working with people you didn’t know and couldn’t count on.
He marched past the droids and their mechanic, making his way over to Amidala before looking at the Patrolian, ignoring the looming form of Durge just a few feet away. “That recorder ready?” He demanded.
Robonino nodded. “Aye, we’re good. Once you’re done, I can send the vid straight to the Money Man as requested.”
Bane nodded, meeting the Senator’s eyes, who glared at him with pure murderous fury in her gaze. Now that the immediate panic of the attack had passed, it seemed like she was finding her anger, and the spine that came with it.
He took a deep breath, pulling free his blaster as he marched forward.
This time, she didn’t flinch or recoil. She eyed the gun, then him, glaring with a steely sort of resolve as he knelt in front of her.
Bane sighed, using the barrel of his blaster to scratch an itch at his temple. “I’m gonna ask you real nice like to make this simple, Senator.” He half pleaded, half demanded. “I’d rather not kill a pregnant woman.”
She stiffened, and he could see that fear creeping back in. And honestly, if it was just her in this seat, he wasn’t sure that’d be the case.
“So-” He pressed on before pulling free a small slip of paper from his coat with his free hand. “-here’s what I need. Won’t cost you nothin.” He held up the paper for her to read, the words very legible, printed on a nice blank sheet so it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
Her eyes darted to the page, then widened in realization and horror.
“You read this out-” He nodded “-and nothing else happens. Cept that we go on a hyperspace ride and I drop you off at the next fuel depot for you to make your merry way back home.”
He saw her eyes harden, her resolve stiffening.
When she answered, her voice was firm. “No. Never.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
He sighed, then slowly leveled the blaster at her face. She leaned away, the back of her head pressing against the seat rest.
Slowly, he lowered the barrel towards her very pregnant stomach, pressing it against her just enough so she’d feel it.
“For the kid’s sake, that ain’t the right answer, Senator.” He said slowly.
Her eyes were clenched shut, tears beginning to leak from the wrinkled edges.
This time when she spoke, her voice warbled with the tears, but for all that, it didn’t lose any of its previous resolve.
“You shoot me and I’ll never say those orders!” She declared. “You shoot my child and the only order I’ll ever give is for every single member of the Coruscant Guard to hunt all of you to the ends of the frakkin Galaxy!”
Bane sighed, gun lowering until the barrel rested lightly on the deck.
Most victims panicked a bit more, didn’t realize they were useless dead till after the first couple minutes of panic and fear.
She was made of sterner stuff.
“Too bad.” He lamented, holstering the blaster.
He pulled free the hypodermic from another pocket of his coat, and even if her eyes hadn’t been shut, he doubted she’d have had any real time to react before he plunged the toxin into the side of her neck.
Her eyes shot open, wide and panicked as she gasped in pain and pulled her hands tight on the mag cuff, trying to reach for the needle.
“Wrong play, Senator,” Bane said. “But you shoulda taken’ the nice option.”
—
Bail Organa
It was a struggle, a test of all his skill, experience and ability honed through decades of service in the Senate, to pretend.
To pretend that everything was alright, that this was merely ‘another day’, that the emergency senate assembly wasn’t something too extreme, all the while knowing that the accusation he was about to level and its ensuing fallout would be the equivalent of dropping a literal bomb in the rotunda.
To pretend that there wasn’t a very real army about to fall on this building and all his colleagues with two hundred Jedi at their head like a hammerblow.
To pretend that the Chancellor was not a Sith. That any single one of his allies, cronies and lickspittles that he called his colleagues might already know this fact, might be a hidden Sith supporter.
To pretend that he had even the faintest idea what would happen after this was done. How in the galaxy would they manage the… by now dozens of crises he could already see on the horizon before the first words had been uttered. The banks, the courts, the Separatists… by the Corellian Hells, even the Jedi were a budding crisis now in any number of ways.
He pretended and pretended and pretended, even as his own allies called and asked him what was going on, even as the Senate Chamber began to fill, even as Alexandria took her place with Satine who both also pretended that nothing was amiss, even as Mon tried to assuage concerns and fears just out of earshot and Iblis glowered at the still empty Chancellor’s podium.
He pretended.
When the Jedi arrived, they did not do so with anything approaching subtlety. Armed and armored Jedi marched through the various doors that were the main entrances to the Rotunda with white armored clones at their backs, rifles in hand.
Shouts were taken up as he saw naked fear on the faces of many of his colleagues, and Bail had to remind himself that this was the only course available to them.
“SENATORS!!!” It was Iblis who roared over the bedlam, howling into the voice amplifier on his podium. Some went quiet, looking at him, but others were still panicking, still shouting, still trying to force their way through the blockade of armored men.
When the main holo bloomed to life with the image of Satine Kryze, her form towering over the entire chamber, that’s when most finally went quiet.
“Senators.” The Duchess spoke, and perhaps it was the knowledge of her pacifistic nature that calmed so many so quickly, that made people stop and listen. “I understand your alarm in this moment. I will speak to you now the reason for the Jedi’s presence here and for the emergency session as it’s been gathered.”
Bail swallowed thickly, he knew what was about to be said and he still found himself… afraid. Afraid of what it would mean, what it would do… the consequences of it all.
“A formal accusation, along with considerable evidence, has been levied here and now, to be examined by this body.” Satine, too, seemed to pause, taking a breath, bracing herself.
“Chancellor Palpatine is a traitor to the Republic.”
—
Taylor
I didn’t question, or judge, Alexandria as I laid eyes on her again, now donning the full regalia that was Alexandria, helmet and all.
Even if I could, it’d be hypocritical as all hell coming from me of all people, especially now as my own Skitter mask was firmly in place as it usually was when violence was called for.
Many of her colleagues didn’t recognize her, but damn near everyone got out of her way anyway. Master Windu marching at her side and Yoda floating behind them on his hover pod, along with dozens of fully armored clones probably helped.
Anakin and I were bringing up the rear of the formation. Even Palpatine’s security force did little more than put up a token protest before the clones very pointedly charged their rifles with high pitched whines of energy cells and the men promptly stepped aside to let us into the elevator.
Master Windu ordered the clones to fan out and secure the grounds here before we stepped into the elevator, the doors closing and the metal box beginning a rapid ascent.
“I understand.” Anakin muttered, fingers pressed into his earpiece before he looked to Master Windu and Yoda. “Masters Obi-Wan and Secura both report that the senators have been secured in the Rotunda.”
“Hrm,” Yoda frowned. “Dislike this, I do.”
I agreed. It was all going… too smoothly.
When Palpatine’s office slipped into range of my bugs, I felt my stomach drop.
“Fuck.” I hissed, the other four people with me all snapping their heads to look in my direction with various expressions, ranging from concern to naked anger.
The doors hissed open, admitting us into the antechamber, and both Windu and Alexandria practically leapt out of the elevator and made straight for the man’s office.
The final door hissed open.
Palpatine smiled.
“Master Yoda, Master Windu.” The kindly veneer was in place, but there was an undercurrent in the voice, something malformed and twisted that grew as he continued, “I’ve been expecting your visit.”
Windu pulled his lightsaber free from his belt, though he didn’t light it yet. “In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you’re under arrest, Chancellor.”
The man smiled. “Am I?”
“Its not him.” I growled.
I felt the spike of Windu’s anger, his frustration accompanied by his own realization as he felt past the shroud of the Force around us… There was nothing emanating from Palpatine himself.
The Sith chuckled.
My bugs crawled over him, tiny mites, flies and ants, their touch not finding flesh and skin and tiny hair, but rather cold metal under the robes.
A droid, a highly sophisticated holodroid.
The facsimile stood up, hands folding together, its every movement a perfect imitation of a real, genuine person. I could understand why the Shadows would have been fooled.
“I suppose it's time to draw our little dance to a close.” He drawled.
“You still think you can win this.” Alexandria didn’t phrase it as a question, but Palpatine seemed to take great delight as his smile widened, and then turned his eyes towards… Anakin.
“Tell me,” The old man leered. “Have those Jedi guarding dear Amidala checked in on time, Masters?”
As the man laughed, I felt a cold chill crawling across Anakin’s emotions, the pit of his stomach opening up. Master Windu wasted no time, turning away to march out and already hailing the Jedi team that had been sent to collect Amidala.
Palpatine grinned towards Master Yoda. “She was never my creature. She never could be. But thank you for believing her compromised. If you’d have trusted her, I doubt the next steps could have come about so perfectly.”
His laugh was a taunting, mocking thing. Anakin stepped in front of Yoda, a barely checked desperation in his eyes and voice. “We have to find her.”
Palpatine’s false self laughed again. “Go. Find her then. Or Find me. I doubt you’ll have time for both-”
Faster than even my eyes could properly track Alexandria shot forward. By the time I was done blinking, there was a fist sized hole sparking through the droid’s skull, the hologram that had been Palpatine, flick-flickering before the machine went slack, hanging off her fist like a limp puppet.
Alexandria sneered, her lip curling back. For her, that might as well have been a howling scream of rage. “He knew we were coming. Contact the fleet, quickly. Establish a blockade around the planet before he can get offworld!”
“No.” Yoda shook his head. “Escape he will not. Sense, I do… He will fight.”
“Then we need to find him and Amidala both, now.”
Windu marched back into the room, features grim. “The team isn’t answering on holo.”
There was a sudden nudge, an urge at the back of my mind. I gave it a moment’s resistance before I realized what it was, what was happening…
Queen?
The nudge came again, gently but firmly, more insistent.
“I can find them.”
The words spilled out of me, cutting off the oncoming argument before it even fully formed, all eyes turning to me.
I felt the Queen’s presence flood my mind, but not the whole of her, not a full communion, we were not Khepri. Just a piece, a small piece of something she, we, could do now as I felt my awareness expand, my mind bursting free of the confines of my skull to spread my senses through the Force across the whole of the planet for a fraction of an instant.
I saw it all, from the people driving across the hovercar lanes, working in their offices, living in their apartments, wandering through the streets, shopping in their markets from the highest spires down to the undercity and down further still, to the mutants and half forgotten wildlife, evolving in the ecosystem of the underworld where no sunlight reached. Coruscant teemed with life. Countless, numberless in their expanse, I felt them all. I sensed them all.
And then it was gone, the instant captured like a snapshot in my brain before she receded, pulling back before the sheer enormity of it all, of my mind touching hundreds of quintillions of beings all at once, disintegrated my gray matter.
But I had it.
Like a tether pulled taut, my senses latched onto their familiar Force presences.
I knew exactly where they were.
“She’s moving.” I mumbled, almost to myself more than the audience of four here with me.
“Padme?”
I nodded at Anakin’s question.
“We have to find her.” The desperation, the sheer anxiety in Anakin’s voice wasn’t even hidden anymore, not fully. He turned to Yoda with a manic earnestness, his composure fraying. “Palpatine himself just admitted that without her, his plans would fall apart. Even if that weren’t the case, Jedi don’t leave others to die out of expedience.”
Yoda nodded. “Agreed. Sense I do, that much rests on the fate of Amidala.”
Then, Anakin turned to me. “Tay, if they’re moving her around…” He swallowed. “You’re the one that can find her the fastest. Help me.”
He didn’t fall to his knees, but he very much was begging me to help him rescue his wife and likely his child over fighting and killing Palpatine as quickly as possible. Yoda, Windu and Alexandria were all powerful, I still saw any fight tilted in their favor, but without me present he very well might find a way to escape even them.
I warred with the choice in front of me, but the struggle was a short one.
What would Anakin do if it was me asking? If it was Vicky in trouble?
He wouldn’t hesitate at all. That’s why he’s asking me.
I let myself nod, my head rising and falling on a hinge. “Of course I will.”
The relief on his face was a palpable thing, a whitewash of feeling that almost made him cry before he mastered himself.
Windu’s eyes were fierce, almost glaring a hole through my skull as he asked. “And the Sith? Where is he?”
That answer was more dangerous.
“He’s waiting.” I shook my head, clearing the last of the cobwebs. “I need a holomap. I can pinpoint his coordinates.” I wasn’t an expert on maps, especially one no doubt as complicated as Coruscant with its multiple layers and impossibly complex city layout. With simple topographical coordinates they would still have miles of searching to do just on the vertical space available.
But that nudge was back. I couldn’t pinpoint him on a map, but the Queen would.
“I can get there faster than any speeder.” Alex volunteered.
“Dangerous, the Sith is. ”Yoda warned.
“So am I.” She shrugged. “Worst case scenario, I can hold him until you two catch up.”
Windu nodded. “Very well, then let’s-”
The intercom screeched as it blared to sudden life…
—
Hannah
The Senate Chamber was quite literally devolving in front of her very eyes. Senators were either reading the forwarded documents, or screaming. Some were screaming at Satine, others at the clones and Jedi still blockading the exits, screaming at each other, screaming at the Chancellor, reading the documents and then screaming at Satine, the Jedi, or the Chancellor.
Some just seemed to be screaming at everyone.
Bail Organa and several others tried to shout down their contemporaries and regain some semblance of order but it was almost no use.
Through it all, Satine continued to speak, calmly giving voice to the damning truth into the microphone, sound dampening fields blocking out the surrounding noise so it wouldn’t loop and feedback over her voice as she kept on going. Even if the senators were too busy to hear her, this was being recorded, and soon enough it would be broadcasted across the entire Republic.
Ultimately, it didn’t matter if the captive audience didn’t listen for now.
But as the Duchess spoke, there was a sudden, abrupt cutting of her voice through the chamber, the towering holo of her blinking out entirely, and Hannah wondered if someone had actually cut her mic. She could even hear commander Cadera calling the Jedi strike team in charge of the communications room now to see what the hell they were doing.
It became abundantly clear in the next instant that it wasn’t them.
“Greetings, My Friends.”
The voice preceded a hologram image blooming through the center of the Senate Chamber.
A bust of Palpatine now hovered in place of Satine’s form, and the Chancellor… smiled.
Hannah had seen many smiles in her life, from the genuine, to the insane and depraved. She could remember each with absolute clarity.
Palpatine’s smile sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
—
“Jam that frequency!” Poof demanded, standing at the center of the operations center in the temple as more than a dozen clone technicians tried desperately to see the order through.
“Trying to!” One snapped. “It's a broad line, it’s being sent across all channels and being replicated via comm buoys. We need three minutes.”
“We don’t have three minutes!”
—
“I see Mandalore has begun… the festivities in my absence.”
Mace ran swiftly through the halls of the Senate Building, the Force granting him inhuman speed that all but bowled over whoever was unfortunate enough to be in his path, the confined space turning into a wind tunnel in the wake of his movement as he called ahead of him, barking out orders to the pilot and a few designated Jedi to get the gunship ready because they needed to move.
Alexandria had already flown ahead of them, one moment standing in Palpatine’s office, the next a black dot streaking across the sky like an unbreakable missile. Whatever her powers were, he and Master Yoda needed to catch up.
But even as Windu ran as fast as he could, he couldn’t outrun the sound of Palpatine’s voice as it drilled into his skull.
—
“No doubt many of you demand answers. It must all be a lie, yes?”
Alexandria frowned grimly, her helmet’s interior display letting her watch the feed as she flew with all the supersonic speed available to her, descending down into the depths of Coruscant, the coordinates Hebert had given her drawing ever closer but seemingly not fast enough.
Her mind whirled, working faster than even her flight as she deduced what the play was, what this move could possibly be.
The answer was glaringly simple…
—
“Listen well…”
The gunship was a heavy, lumbering beast, but Anakin made it move with enough speed that even he recognized he was being reckless. Several near misses had already been too close for comfort and he could feel the genuine fear of the clones riding in the troop bay. For once, Taylor didn’t share in their trepidation, riding at his side, her mind focused on maintaining her tenuous hold on Padme’s Force signature.
He should be able to do what she was doing. He should be better, but his… fear… because that’s what it was. It was fraying his focus, sapping him of his strength and thus adding to the fear in an inescapable cycle.
Fear truly is the mind killer.
If Padme died because he didn’t warn her…
He pushed the gunship to go even faster.
Then, he felt his heart drop to his feet when the holoimage shifted, Palpatine’s smiling visage replaced by Padme.
The gunship swerved in his hands, another far too close shave with another skycar barely avoided as he took his eyes off the front for half a second.
Clones screamed in the back and even Taylor hissed out a curse, her focus breaking for a second, but Anakin could only stare at his wife.
She stared blankly at the screen. Her makeup and hair from this morning were in ruins and her clothes were damaged in some places with singe marks and tears that shouldn’t be there.
“All… all units…”
It was her voice though, more than anything, that told him something was wrong. She was… drunk?
No, not drunk. Drugged, he quickly deduced.
But still, drugged or not, he could still understand her, he could still recognize her. And with ever mounting horror he realized what she was about to say before the words even formed on her lips. Broadcast across the whole of Coruscant and the fleet above.
“Execute Orders Sixty-Three… Sixty-Four… and… Sixty-Six.”
