FicWad

As before, it all belongs to George. Sue me, do not. Also, all credit to Tom for coming up with R2-M4, and for letting me borrow him for a while. Any constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. Enjoy :)


Chapter 2: Significance and Purpose


The pre-dawn light lay sullenly across the great, barren waste of Coruscant's Industrial District and illuminated the small speeder racing towards one of the abandoned towers. For a moment, the vehicle appeared to shine in the light of what would soon become day, then was swallowed by the gaping darkness of the old warehouse's loading bay. The dim interior lights of the hangar glowed into being as the green speeder parked carelessly beside a long, lean ship. The driver's door opened and a shadowed figure emerged.

The long drive to his ship had given Darth Sidious much time to think. He feared that his hasty departure had done much to damage his future plans, but there was hope yet. If the Jedi Council did as he suspected they would, and moved to take control of the Senate for the time being, then it would be possible to play on the fears of Coruscant's ordinary populace. The thought of a group of 'mind reading Jedi' running the government, even for a short while, would not sit well with a Senate and a people that were rapidly becoming weary of them. That he encouraged this discontent only helped to speed up the process - the Jedi were doing much of the work themselves. Yes, the Senate and the views of the people could be easily manipulated, and he still had people in place who could see that his will was done. More concerning were the actions and mindset of the one he had long ago selected as the apprentice who would see the Republic become an Empire. Anakin Skywalker had become an enigma, and Lord Sidious did not like that at all.

A mechanical scuffling at the far end of the hangar drew his attention then, and the Sith Lord noted the approach of one of the droids that maintained this complex. The silver protocol droid shuffled towards him. "Master Sidious!" It called, cheerily. "What a pleasant surprise! Did you have a good drive?" If the droid could have beamed, it would have done.

With a snarl, the Sith Master flung out his hand and seized the droid in the powerful grip of the Force. The astonished machine wailed as it flew across the ferrocrete towards its master, and came to a dead halt a foot or two from him. Through tightly clenched teeth, the Dark Lord issued his orders. "Get on board and instruct the astromech unit to get us out of here," he hissed. The droid attempted to stammer a reply, and was abruptly cut off as Sidious reeled off a set of co-ordinates from memory. "And tell him to plot the shortest possible course. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Lord Sidious," the droid almost whispered. "May I inquire as..." He got no further.

"Why no, you may not," Sidious snapped. "Do not question me again. In fact, when we reach our destination, remind me to have your memory wiped. Now. I am going for a shower." With that, he turned on his heel and swept up the waiting ship's landing ramp. The silver protocol droid cocked his head after his master in confusion for a moment, and then resignedly followed.

-----------------------------

In the white towers of the Jedi Temple, high above the awakening city, the same pre-dawn light that witnessed Darth Sidious's departure also cast its gloomy shadow over another event of significance. The Jedi Council was in session, and Obi-Wan Kenobi held the floor. As he concluded his report, the flickering, insubstantial hologram of Master Yoda leaned forward in his chair and regarded the rest of the Council.

"Evident it is, control of the Senate we must have. Like it, I do not, but no other way can I see."

There was a deafening silence. "I agree," the holographic Ki-Adi Mundi said, eventually. "The Republic needs a leader of good heart, one who can be... /trusted/. The people have suffered much in this senseless war, and there is much to be done to rectify their suffering. If we have control of the Senate, then we can begin the process of rebuilding. It is time we came to the forefront and took our part in the shaping of destiny."

Yoda shot the Cerean Jedi Master a long look. "Propose that we order the affairs of the Republic I do not, Master Mundi," he said quietly. "That we find one who can is my thought on the matter." He folded his wizened hands across his cane and looked around the room again. "But who?"

Anakin and Obi-Wan shared a look, then the Jedi Master spoke. "I can think of three suitable candidates. Senator Amidala of Naboo, Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan and Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila. All three are wise, kind and capable individuals." He gave the assembled Council a small smile. "You all know my opinions on career politicians, but I think I would trust either of those three with the destiny of the Republic."

Several of the masters nodded in agreement, but Yoda frowned. "Senator Amidala, strong she is, and kind-hearted. But an innocence I have observed in her on occasion. Experienced, yes. But naïve, also."

"She showed strength and presence of mind during the invasion of Naboo," Anakin argued, ignoring the warning look Obi-Wan shot him. "She took back her home planet with virtually no troops. She stood up to the Trade Federation and won."

Plo Koon leaned forward. "Master Yoda is right. Senator Amidala is a good person, but ruling a planet is very different from ruling an entire Republic. I would hate to see her crumble under the pressure, or worse, lose that basic goodness and innocence that is so rare in a politician. We need Amidala to counterbalance the cynicism and greed that runs rampant in the Senate. She will aid the Republic more as a Senator. Now, Bail Organa is a very strong candidate. I feel that he has the... aggression and the ambition necessary to succeed as a Chancellor..."

"How about Garm Bel Iblis of Corellia?" Even Piell proposed.

Anakin leaned back in his chair and let the discussion wash over him. Yoda's flat rejection of Padme as a candidate stung, but in his heart he knew the ancient Jedi Master was right. Padme's delicate light was one of things he treasured most about her, and to see that worn away by years of uphill struggle would devastate him. And she had never expressed interest in the Chancellorship, either. However, as the debate wore on and was narrowed down to Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, he could not escape the feeling that they were evading the subject they all knew they should be discussing. After all, Jedi Masters were as prone to ignoring what they did not want to think about as anyone else. Finally, his patience snapped and he leaned forward in his chair once more.

"This is all very well," Anakin said into the heart of the debate. The assembled masters stopped, and looked at him. The full attention of the Jedi Council was still a little unnerving, even after his knighthood, but he continued. "But we are evading a very important question. What are we going to do about Palpatine?"

Obi-Wan leapt into the silence that followed his former student's words. "He needs to be captured and taken to trial. Thanks to the war, we have an excellent intelligence network. We can turn it against Palpatine. He is not the sort of man to enjoy life on the run. I expect that his needs will force him to break the surface, as it were, on the worlds he visits. Also," and he grinned, "it's Palpatine. That face is a little hard to disguise."

"Unless he has it altered," Plo Koon noted.

"Well we can keep a weather eye on facial reconstruction clinics," Ki-Adi Mundi suggested, then raised his hand against the volley of protest that followed. "And yes, I am well aware of the immensity of that task. But Master Kenobi and young Skywalker are right. We do need to catch him."

"Plastic surgery aside," Even Piell growled, "what I want to know is what we are going to do with him if we catch him."

Anakin once again leapt in before a master could answer. "Take him alive, and put him on trial." He said it firmly, as if there was no other option.

Even Piell gave him a flat stare. "Should we?" He voiced the thought quietly, but it was one that they had all considered. "The courts and the Senate are his pets. And thus far, the hard proof of his evil is limited to three dead Jedi Masters and one in voluntary seclusion."

"And when," Ki-Adi Mundi said hotly "has the testimony of a Jedi Master been called into question by the courts?"

"Against the testimony of the Supreme Chancellor? I do not fancy our chances, Ki-Adi." The diminutive Master folded his arms across his chest and glared around the room. "I say, we kill him if we can. He is a Sith Lord. He does not deserve the opportunity for a trial."

The atmosphere in the Jedi Council chamber seemed to grow colder as the Council debated, and a clear division between those few who wanted to end Palpatine quietly and as quickly as possible, and those who wanted to see him on trial soon became clear. Though the former were in the minority, they argued as vehemently as they could for their cause. And throughout the argument, Master Yoda remained silent until Even Piell had the floor for the eighth time.

"Deny this Darth Sidious the basic rights of sentience we cannot, and should not. Justice, we must have. Legally, and publicly, must he be tried. Do the right thing, we must, and be seen to do so. Only then will we be able to overcome this distrust and the inevitable outcry of our actions in the Senate. And," he added, almost as an afterthought, "seek satisfaction from his suffering, we should not. To his level, that brings us."

Chastised, the Council members began to nod in agreement, and Master Yoda's suggestion became the focus of their planning.

Anakin released a breath he had not realised he had been holding, and sank back into the cushions of his chair. Palpatine's life was safe, for the moment. He could still save Padme.

----------------------------

Darth Sidious was woken from a hitherto soundless sleep by a light touch on his upper arm and a tentative "Master Sidious?" In that fogged moment between sleeping and wakening, his instincts took over and V-3PO the protocol droid found himself with a blazing crimson blade held against his mechanical neck, as, without even opening his eyes, the Sith Master rolled from the couch into a combat-ready stance.

"Oh my," the droid burbled, not daring to move. Sidious opened his eyes, blinked and gave what could be taken as a grunt of apology. He deactivated the blade, and the spare lightsaber disappeared into his sleeve. He fastidiously straightened the rumpled, dark wine-red tunic and black Jedi-like tabard he wore, and then glared at the droid.

"Well?"

V-3PO launched into a hurried explanation of the reason he had dared intrude upon his master's rest. "Master, R2-M4 brought us out of hyperspace to make a course correction, and while he was computing the next jump, we received an incoming call on your most private comm. code."

"The origin of the call?" Sidious asked over his shoulder as he strode from the ship's lounge, heading for his private chambers.

"Coruscant," the droid answered.

Sidious sealed the door of his private meditation chamber, and shrugged into the black robe left lying casually across a couch. The heavy, rough fabric napped at his hands, and as always, he ignored it. He fastened the intricate brooch at his throat, and drew the deep black cowl up to hide his features. The one he suspected was contacting him already knew of his identity, but one could never be too careful. Then he stepped into the holoplate on the floor.

Two shimmering, half-sized figures appeared before him. His loyal and reasonably trustworthy aides, Mas Amedda and Sly Moore, cringed before their Master. Moore was even wringing her hands, a rare sign of distress from the normally unflappable woman.

"Lord Sidious," they intoned in unison, bowing. He nodded gravely, and regarded them with a steady gaze until Mas Amedda began to speak.

"My Lord, the Jedi have moved to control the Senate! A delegation arrived this morning, and summoned a special session. They have declared their intention to 'guide the Senate' through the transition of power from yourself to another, whom they did not specify. The Senate is in an uproar!" The Vice-Chancellor took a deep breath, and boldly looked the Sith Lord in the face. "Master, your... departure has shocked us all. Are we to continue with your design?"

Sidious stared the Chagrian down. "Do not presume to question my reasons for leaving the Capitol," he said quietly, dangerously. "For I know that you are, indeed, afire with curiosity and perhaps some small hope that the 'another' you spoke of might be yourself." The Chagrian shivered, but said nothing, and Sidious continued. "I have anticipated the Jedi's move in the Senate, and it pleases me to allow them to play at politics for the time being. Their sudden interest in the affairs of state will be their undoing, I assure you. Now. There is something that you have not told me."

His insight served him well, as the two shifted their feet like errant schoolchildren. It was Sly Moore who braved the threat of her Master's displeasure. "My Master, the Jedi have... announced your identity to the Senate. Admittedly, those loyal to your cause laughed it down, and most of the Senators have been led to believe that is merely a trick by the Jedi, to gain more power for themselves, but... There is a vocal minority, My Lord. Mon Mothma in particular..."

Incredibly, the Sith Master laughed. "Let them believe what they wish. And whose idea was that?"

Sly swallowed. "Mine, Master. I thought to limit the damage such a revelation could cause." She cringed, the hologram flickering.

"You have done well, Sly," Sidious murmured, still chuckling. "And now we must discuss our future plans. Are our agents still in place within the population?"

"Yes, Master," Mas Amedda answered, still stung by the Sith Lord's rebuke.

"Excellent. Sly, I wish you to begin to circulate the rumours that you are so good at nurturing within the population of the city. Have our people let it be known that the Jedi have deposed me and intend to rule in my stead. The rumour mill should do the rest. But do not allow such rumours to run rampant too quickly. Timing is essential."

"Your will be done, Master," she murmured, bowing.

There was a short silence. Darth Sidious studied the pair until Sly Moore once again took the plunge. "Lord, what if the Jedi investigation reveals that Mas and I are your loyal servants? We have kept our positions thus far, but..."

The Sith Master gave a small sigh. Their concerns were only to be expected, but their lack of faith was a little... infuriating. "The Jedi need you to legitimise what they are doing in the Senate. Your persons and positions are safe, I doubt they will dare to make sweeping changes too quickly or they will undermine what support they have. They may investigate and search my private files all they please, but they will find nothing." He smiled grimly in the shadows of his cowl. "You have deniability, my dear. You can deny that you knew what I was until you are as blue in the face as our friend here, and they will have no recourse but to accept your word on the matter. Now. Return to your tasks and report to me tomorrow morning. Coruscant time"

"As you will, Lord Sidious," they replied together, and the holograms flickered out of existence.

Sidious removed the heavy robe and slung it back across the couch. He stretched, catlike, easing the tension in the muscles of his back and shoulders. Perhaps a little exercise in the cargo hold was in order. The thought of a little constructive violence was rather appealing. However, this train of thought was rudely interrupted by the sudden wailing of a distant alarm, and an almost simultaneous tapping on the door of his chamber. "Master! Master Sidious!" The familiar tone of a panicking 3PO unit reached his ears, and, wondering if protocol droids were programmed to be so highly-strung, the Sith Lord answered the door.

"Yes? What is it?" He growled, allowing displeasure to colour his tone.

"Oh, Master Sidious!" The droid wailed. "Come quickly! We appear to be under attack!"

Resisting the impulse to slowly crush the machine's vocabulator, Sidious brushed past V-3PO and marched towards the cockpit. The droid hurried after him. "How can we appear to be under attack?" He demanded of the 3PO unit, over his shoulder.

"Well, the screens have gone all red, and there are ships everywhere, and R2-M4 assures me that this is an attack," V-3PO babbled, gesticulating wildly.

The Sith Master clenched his jaw tightly enough that his teeth began to grind, and hurried to the cockpit. He saw immediately that R2-M4's assessment of the situation was absolutely correct. The astro droid beeped a tense greeting as Sidious slid into the pilot's seat and studied the screens before him. It had been years since he'd had to do any fancy flying in space... Summoning the memories and experiences he had gained during his time as Plagueis's apprentice, the Sith Lord seized the control column and took joint control of the sleek vessel. R2-M4 beeped in encouragement, and Sidious turned his attention to the view outside. It was ugly.

A very battered Munificent-class frigate hung in space ahead of the /Night Hunter/. Although the frigate's speciality was communications jamming and interception, it had enough firepower to cause the small scout ship a lot of problems. Furthermore, it was escorted by a blue-painted vessel that closely resembled a Republic diplomatic cruiser, save that this one bristled with weaponry. And to top it all, a squadron of vulture-droids and at least five captured ARC 170 fighters swept through the intervening space between their parent vessel and the /Night Hunter/.

The comm. unit crackled, and a thick voice emerged from the speaker. "This is the /Hushed Voice/. Power down your engines and weapons, and prepare to be boarded."