Post by crystalcat on Aug 29, 2006 18:45:22 GMT -5
16. “The Jedi are debating what to do about the report,” Obiwan told the chancellor smoothly,
in answer to his question.
Palpatine broke the enigmatic stare with which he had favored Sam long enough to reply,
“The Jedi are under my command now, Master Kenobi. They will do as I bid.”
At that moment, the hologram of Anakin appeared. Sam blinked, but ignored it. By now
he was used to Al’s intruding at odd moments; this was no different. He’d be able to hear
whatever Anakin had to say, but couldn’t acknowledge it without appearing to talk to thin air.
But Anakin didn’t say much of anything. Apparently noticing that he’d intruded at an
awkward moment, he murmured an apology and then stood to watch what they were doing.
“Return at once and tell them that if they don’t act on the information immediately, I’ll
have the council arrested for treason. I only hope they aren’t too late as it is; if Grievous does
manage to escape, believe me, the Jedi will be held accountable. Is that clear?”
“Err ... very much so, Chancellor,” Obiwan replied contritely. For a moment Sam feared
that he would be unduly swayed by the political leader’s threats, but, as before, he seemed oddly
distracted by Anakin’s hologram. Sam wished there were some way he could furtively signal
Anakin to go away; he needed Obiwan’s full attention.
“Anakin,” the chancellor began smoothly, his voice much more friendly, having dismissed
Obiwan from the conversation. Sam and the real Anakin both looked up, but oddly, the man
didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he seemed to become confused, blinking and squinting first at
Sam and then ... and then at the hologram? His behavior wasn’t exaggerated, but it was
noticeable given his normal extreme composure. The real Anakin seemed to notice it too,
because he abruptly walked up to Palpatine and waved his hands in his face right in front of the
man’s nose. When he got a reaction, he backed away and stood quite still, staring at the
chancellor in slowly dawning horror.
Sam took the opportunity to make a quick exit, taking Obiwan by the arm and murmuring
a quick goodbye. He was out the door and down the hall, still dragging Obiwan along, the real
Anakin’s hologram floating behind them (since it was tied to Sam’s location by a certain radius),
still staring back towards the chancellor’s door.
“Go away,” Sam hissed at Anakin as loudly as he dared.
“What?” asked Obiwan as the image in the hologram flinched slightly and winked off.
“I said we have to get away,” said Sam, not slowing down. He wouldn’t feel secure until
he was out of the building. Heck, he wouldn’t feel secure until he was off the planet - or out of
the galaxy and safely back in his own body.
“Yes, I figured that part out,” replied Obiwan wryly, peeling Sam’s fingers from his arm as
they hurried along.
“Sorry,” murmured Sam.
“Why are we running?” the other man asked. “I know he was unhappy about the report
not being delivered, but a normal pace would ...”
Sam started to explain, but then stopped. Obiwan ground to a halt beside him, looking at
him expectantly. Glancing at the walls and ceilings, Sam shook his head to himself and started off
again. But now Obiwan seemed to understand his concerns and asked no more questions until
they’d arrived at the public docking port. Walking away from the crowd waiting for the
transport, the two men spoke so their voices carried away into the wind and not back inside the
rotunda.
“The chancellor is Force-sensitive,” Sam told him succinctly.
“How do you ...” began Obiwan, but then stopped himself. “Were you doing that? That
double-image or Force-ventriloquism, or whatever it was; I don’t know what to call it.”
Sam nodded.
The other man thought a moment.
“He could detect it, couldn’t he?” he said quietly, then looked squarely at Sam. “You
know what this means?”
“He’s the Sith Lord.”
“We’ve got to warn the council.”
“They’ll never believe us. You said before they had to have verifiable proof.”
“This isn’t something you saw in a dream,” Obiwan pointed out. “We have two witnesses.
All you have to do is demonstrate what you did, and ...”
“I can’t,” Sam told him. “It’s not something I have any control over.” It was true; he had
no way of summoning anyone from the project, though there had been many times he’d wished he
could.
“So what happened in there was just a fortunate accident?” Obiwan asked.
Sam nodded, thinking, a fortunate accident ... Had God deliberately planted
Anakin’s hologram in that office at the critical minute? If so, would He provide when they
reached the council chamber?
Sadly, Sam realized he didn’t possess enough faith to be sure. But there was something
else he believed God would intercede in - so long as the good side paid attention to His directions,
anyway ...
“He’s the one who’s going to kill Padme,” he said. “She needs to leave right now.”
“You don’t know that for a fact,” Obiwan pointed out. “Although I agree it does seem a
possibility.”
The transport passed overhead in its path towards landing. Sam glanced up at it once,
then told Obiwan what Palpatine had said at the ballet, about the Sith having a way to save people
from dying.
“I just don’t understand how he knew I’d had the dream,” he finished. “That wasn’t
something I’d ever told him about.”
Obiwan’s face paled.
“He was targeting you,” he said. “You’re right, it does sound like he’s the danger to her.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t intending to take her to the brink of death just so he could
make the Sith look like heroes for bringing her back. Anakin ...” - he hesitated before continuing
- “... it sounds as if he intended to make you his next apprentice.”
The concept filled Sam with a sudden dread, and he realized suddenly and without
ambiguity that this was the real reason he had jumped into Anakin. To keep him from falling for
Palpatine’s lies and succumbing to the darkness. Not to save Padme.
No! thought Sam. She couldn’t be meant to die, not after all this! He remembered
Anakin’s words, relayed to him through Al, about such an outcome shortly after they’d switched
places: He actually said, and I kid you not, that he’d give his soul to save her if he had to, so
that anything you had to decide for him that didn’t include her survival, he wasn’t interested
in. Sam wanted to be sick; he’d never had to make such a decision in a jump before, and never
wanted to again. Why was he even here? He just wanted to go home.
“He said the method wasn’t something the Jedi would tell me,” he related. “I thought it
might be in the Masters-only archive at the temple. That’s why I was so upset when I wasn’t
granted the rank of Master.”
Obiwan blinked at him in surprise.
“What Masters-only archive?” he asked, bewildered. “There’s no such thing! The
knowledge in the temple library is for the use of all. What reason would we have for censoring
it?” He put his fingers to his temples and sighed heavily. “Oh, Anakin, I’m so sorry ...” he said.
“I’m so sorry.”
The transport landed; the doors on it slid open.
“I’ve got to see Padme,” Sam told him. “She has to leave now. Today.”
Obiwan nodded
“I’ll go back to the temple,” he said. “Palpatine will expect at least one of us to follow his
orders; I’m sure he’ll know if we don’t.” He looked up hopefully at Sam and added, “I do think
that with the rest of what you’ve told me, I can make a good case for him at least being in league
with the Sith. That ought to make them somewhat suspicious of any intelligence he passed -
especially as he’s so insistent on someone leaving immediately.” He glanced over at the now-
emptied transport and stroked his beard before continuing, “But if you’re right and they won’t
listen, I’ll contact Master Yoda directly. I don’t know what more there is I can do, though, at this
point.”
Sam nodded, and they boarded the transport in silence.
Anakin sat alone in the dark silence of the imaging chamber, having told Dr. Alessa, who
sat in the control chamber, to leave him be.
Palpatine is the Sith Lord, he thought, over and over again. Why couldn’t I see
it? Especially after the ... the Sith LEGEND! He pounded his fist on the floor angrily, feeling
his rage take hold. And then, just as suddenly, he stopped himself, horrified, and, gasping, put his
head in his hands. The anger threatened to return and he had to hold it consciously at bay,
understanding that he’d been trained from an early age to use it to shut away his fear. Even now,
his memory of Palpatine’s encouragement, his instruction, to do exactly that increased the level of
rage which threatened to burst through the block of his will. He’d been trained as a Sith at the
same time he was also trained as a Jedi. And he had ended up, somehow, as both - and neither; if
he was a less than perfect Jedi, he was certainly a very flawed Sith. But he couldn’t allow himself
to dwell on what Palpatine had done to him - what he’d allowed Palpatine to do. If he were to
save Padme, he’d have to focus on one thing and one thing only: fulfilling his destiny and
destroying the Sith, because he was absolutely certain now that Palpatine intended to use her as a
hostage to control him.
Turning him into his newest apprentice might be his major aim - and what better way
could he guarantee Anakin’s acquiescence than to promise him his wife’s life - conveniently
leaving out the part about how he was responsible for her death in the first place! Well, he knew
now how to prevent it without resorting to some arcane Sith method, if in fact one even really
existed. He would have to destroy the Sith Lord first, quickly, before the man had time to act.
Before he realized what was happening. But he would have to rid himself of his anger first, not
only because he was too close to the dark side path already, but because if he did not, Palpatine
would sense his motive and block his attack. He would have to appear to still be his faithful, if
troubled, apprentice. But he could do it. He’d have to, for Padme’s sake and the sake of their
unborn child. He knew he’d be arrested afterward; no real evidence existed against the
chancellor, and his action would be considered an assassination. But it didn’t matter. He would
not let the Sith Lord have Padme - or himself. His destiny would be fulfilled. Padme would live.
And no matter what happened to him afterwards, he knew he would still have his soul.
Everything was going to be fine.
Sam fumed as the elevator rose to the penthouse level; it seemed to take an inordinately
long time to get there. When at last it stopped and the doors opened, he ran through them past a
surprised Threepio, following his Force-sense to Padme’s office, where she sat looking at
something on the holonet.
“Anakin!” she exclaimed, happy to see him, but concerned for the way he was rushing in
towards her.
“Padme,” he said breathlessly, “You’ve got to leave. Now.”
She blinked at him, obviously confused by his sudden insistence that she go when he’d
argued for the delay until tomorrow only an hour before. Her dark eyes bored into his, hair long
now and framing her face. A crease formed between her eyebrows and he saw, superimposed
upon the face looking at him, Donna’s face. It, too, was concerned, uncertain, confused. He
swallowed.
Please you have to leave now, he thought he said. Please, I couldn’t stand it if I
have to let you die. Please. I don’t want to do this anymore; I want to go home.
Donna, I want to come home ...
The lights in the room refracted, spilling their rainbow colors, shifting, and then winking
out. He felt dizzy, disembodied, weightless. From far away he saw them, pinpoints of colored
light, dancing, playing music, each its own unique tune. He had just realized he’d made the jump
when the weight returned full-force to his body and he found himself sitting on a concrete floor,
disoriented and blinking. He was in the imaging chamber at the project headquarters. Someone
came running toward him in the glare of the lights, stopped, and knelt down. He squinted at the
face.
“Donna,” he whispered, and reached for his wife.
The End
in answer to his question.
Palpatine broke the enigmatic stare with which he had favored Sam long enough to reply,
“The Jedi are under my command now, Master Kenobi. They will do as I bid.”
At that moment, the hologram of Anakin appeared. Sam blinked, but ignored it. By now
he was used to Al’s intruding at odd moments; this was no different. He’d be able to hear
whatever Anakin had to say, but couldn’t acknowledge it without appearing to talk to thin air.
But Anakin didn’t say much of anything. Apparently noticing that he’d intruded at an
awkward moment, he murmured an apology and then stood to watch what they were doing.
“Return at once and tell them that if they don’t act on the information immediately, I’ll
have the council arrested for treason. I only hope they aren’t too late as it is; if Grievous does
manage to escape, believe me, the Jedi will be held accountable. Is that clear?”
“Err ... very much so, Chancellor,” Obiwan replied contritely. For a moment Sam feared
that he would be unduly swayed by the political leader’s threats, but, as before, he seemed oddly
distracted by Anakin’s hologram. Sam wished there were some way he could furtively signal
Anakin to go away; he needed Obiwan’s full attention.
“Anakin,” the chancellor began smoothly, his voice much more friendly, having dismissed
Obiwan from the conversation. Sam and the real Anakin both looked up, but oddly, the man
didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he seemed to become confused, blinking and squinting first at
Sam and then ... and then at the hologram? His behavior wasn’t exaggerated, but it was
noticeable given his normal extreme composure. The real Anakin seemed to notice it too,
because he abruptly walked up to Palpatine and waved his hands in his face right in front of the
man’s nose. When he got a reaction, he backed away and stood quite still, staring at the
chancellor in slowly dawning horror.
Sam took the opportunity to make a quick exit, taking Obiwan by the arm and murmuring
a quick goodbye. He was out the door and down the hall, still dragging Obiwan along, the real
Anakin’s hologram floating behind them (since it was tied to Sam’s location by a certain radius),
still staring back towards the chancellor’s door.
“Go away,” Sam hissed at Anakin as loudly as he dared.
“What?” asked Obiwan as the image in the hologram flinched slightly and winked off.
“I said we have to get away,” said Sam, not slowing down. He wouldn’t feel secure until
he was out of the building. Heck, he wouldn’t feel secure until he was off the planet - or out of
the galaxy and safely back in his own body.
“Yes, I figured that part out,” replied Obiwan wryly, peeling Sam’s fingers from his arm as
they hurried along.
“Sorry,” murmured Sam.
“Why are we running?” the other man asked. “I know he was unhappy about the report
not being delivered, but a normal pace would ...”
Sam started to explain, but then stopped. Obiwan ground to a halt beside him, looking at
him expectantly. Glancing at the walls and ceilings, Sam shook his head to himself and started off
again. But now Obiwan seemed to understand his concerns and asked no more questions until
they’d arrived at the public docking port. Walking away from the crowd waiting for the
transport, the two men spoke so their voices carried away into the wind and not back inside the
rotunda.
“The chancellor is Force-sensitive,” Sam told him succinctly.
“How do you ...” began Obiwan, but then stopped himself. “Were you doing that? That
double-image or Force-ventriloquism, or whatever it was; I don’t know what to call it.”
Sam nodded.
The other man thought a moment.
“He could detect it, couldn’t he?” he said quietly, then looked squarely at Sam. “You
know what this means?”
“He’s the Sith Lord.”
“We’ve got to warn the council.”
“They’ll never believe us. You said before they had to have verifiable proof.”
“This isn’t something you saw in a dream,” Obiwan pointed out. “We have two witnesses.
All you have to do is demonstrate what you did, and ...”
“I can’t,” Sam told him. “It’s not something I have any control over.” It was true; he had
no way of summoning anyone from the project, though there had been many times he’d wished he
could.
“So what happened in there was just a fortunate accident?” Obiwan asked.
Sam nodded, thinking, a fortunate accident ... Had God deliberately planted
Anakin’s hologram in that office at the critical minute? If so, would He provide when they
reached the council chamber?
Sadly, Sam realized he didn’t possess enough faith to be sure. But there was something
else he believed God would intercede in - so long as the good side paid attention to His directions,
anyway ...
“He’s the one who’s going to kill Padme,” he said. “She needs to leave right now.”
“You don’t know that for a fact,” Obiwan pointed out. “Although I agree it does seem a
possibility.”
The transport passed overhead in its path towards landing. Sam glanced up at it once,
then told Obiwan what Palpatine had said at the ballet, about the Sith having a way to save people
from dying.
“I just don’t understand how he knew I’d had the dream,” he finished. “That wasn’t
something I’d ever told him about.”
Obiwan’s face paled.
“He was targeting you,” he said. “You’re right, it does sound like he’s the danger to her.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t intending to take her to the brink of death just so he could
make the Sith look like heroes for bringing her back. Anakin ...” - he hesitated before continuing
- “... it sounds as if he intended to make you his next apprentice.”
The concept filled Sam with a sudden dread, and he realized suddenly and without
ambiguity that this was the real reason he had jumped into Anakin. To keep him from falling for
Palpatine’s lies and succumbing to the darkness. Not to save Padme.
No! thought Sam. She couldn’t be meant to die, not after all this! He remembered
Anakin’s words, relayed to him through Al, about such an outcome shortly after they’d switched
places: He actually said, and I kid you not, that he’d give his soul to save her if he had to, so
that anything you had to decide for him that didn’t include her survival, he wasn’t interested
in. Sam wanted to be sick; he’d never had to make such a decision in a jump before, and never
wanted to again. Why was he even here? He just wanted to go home.
“He said the method wasn’t something the Jedi would tell me,” he related. “I thought it
might be in the Masters-only archive at the temple. That’s why I was so upset when I wasn’t
granted the rank of Master.”
Obiwan blinked at him in surprise.
“What Masters-only archive?” he asked, bewildered. “There’s no such thing! The
knowledge in the temple library is for the use of all. What reason would we have for censoring
it?” He put his fingers to his temples and sighed heavily. “Oh, Anakin, I’m so sorry ...” he said.
“I’m so sorry.”
The transport landed; the doors on it slid open.
“I’ve got to see Padme,” Sam told him. “She has to leave now. Today.”
Obiwan nodded
“I’ll go back to the temple,” he said. “Palpatine will expect at least one of us to follow his
orders; I’m sure he’ll know if we don’t.” He looked up hopefully at Sam and added, “I do think
that with the rest of what you’ve told me, I can make a good case for him at least being in league
with the Sith. That ought to make them somewhat suspicious of any intelligence he passed -
especially as he’s so insistent on someone leaving immediately.” He glanced over at the now-
emptied transport and stroked his beard before continuing, “But if you’re right and they won’t
listen, I’ll contact Master Yoda directly. I don’t know what more there is I can do, though, at this
point.”
Sam nodded, and they boarded the transport in silence.
Anakin sat alone in the dark silence of the imaging chamber, having told Dr. Alessa, who
sat in the control chamber, to leave him be.
Palpatine is the Sith Lord, he thought, over and over again. Why couldn’t I see
it? Especially after the ... the Sith LEGEND! He pounded his fist on the floor angrily, feeling
his rage take hold. And then, just as suddenly, he stopped himself, horrified, and, gasping, put his
head in his hands. The anger threatened to return and he had to hold it consciously at bay,
understanding that he’d been trained from an early age to use it to shut away his fear. Even now,
his memory of Palpatine’s encouragement, his instruction, to do exactly that increased the level of
rage which threatened to burst through the block of his will. He’d been trained as a Sith at the
same time he was also trained as a Jedi. And he had ended up, somehow, as both - and neither; if
he was a less than perfect Jedi, he was certainly a very flawed Sith. But he couldn’t allow himself
to dwell on what Palpatine had done to him - what he’d allowed Palpatine to do. If he were to
save Padme, he’d have to focus on one thing and one thing only: fulfilling his destiny and
destroying the Sith, because he was absolutely certain now that Palpatine intended to use her as a
hostage to control him.
Turning him into his newest apprentice might be his major aim - and what better way
could he guarantee Anakin’s acquiescence than to promise him his wife’s life - conveniently
leaving out the part about how he was responsible for her death in the first place! Well, he knew
now how to prevent it without resorting to some arcane Sith method, if in fact one even really
existed. He would have to destroy the Sith Lord first, quickly, before the man had time to act.
Before he realized what was happening. But he would have to rid himself of his anger first, not
only because he was too close to the dark side path already, but because if he did not, Palpatine
would sense his motive and block his attack. He would have to appear to still be his faithful, if
troubled, apprentice. But he could do it. He’d have to, for Padme’s sake and the sake of their
unborn child. He knew he’d be arrested afterward; no real evidence existed against the
chancellor, and his action would be considered an assassination. But it didn’t matter. He would
not let the Sith Lord have Padme - or himself. His destiny would be fulfilled. Padme would live.
And no matter what happened to him afterwards, he knew he would still have his soul.
Everything was going to be fine.
Sam fumed as the elevator rose to the penthouse level; it seemed to take an inordinately
long time to get there. When at last it stopped and the doors opened, he ran through them past a
surprised Threepio, following his Force-sense to Padme’s office, where she sat looking at
something on the holonet.
“Anakin!” she exclaimed, happy to see him, but concerned for the way he was rushing in
towards her.
“Padme,” he said breathlessly, “You’ve got to leave. Now.”
She blinked at him, obviously confused by his sudden insistence that she go when he’d
argued for the delay until tomorrow only an hour before. Her dark eyes bored into his, hair long
now and framing her face. A crease formed between her eyebrows and he saw, superimposed
upon the face looking at him, Donna’s face. It, too, was concerned, uncertain, confused. He
swallowed.
Please you have to leave now, he thought he said. Please, I couldn’t stand it if I
have to let you die. Please. I don’t want to do this anymore; I want to go home.
Donna, I want to come home ...
The lights in the room refracted, spilling their rainbow colors, shifting, and then winking
out. He felt dizzy, disembodied, weightless. From far away he saw them, pinpoints of colored
light, dancing, playing music, each its own unique tune. He had just realized he’d made the jump
when the weight returned full-force to his body and he found himself sitting on a concrete floor,
disoriented and blinking. He was in the imaging chamber at the project headquarters. Someone
came running toward him in the glare of the lights, stopped, and knelt down. He squinted at the
face.
“Donna,” he whispered, and reached for his wife.
The End
