Chapter Text
Palpatine sat at his office, high above the never-ending traffic of Coruscant. He stared at the skyline as he drummed his fingers against his desk. He was puzzled. It had been a few days since he last saw Anakin, but the boy’s reactions still aggravated him. He’d acted like a nervous banshee around Palpatine, ready to bolt out of there if he had been well enough.
As far as the Chancellor was concerned, there was no reason for this behavior. Young Skywalker had been feeding out his palm, docile and pacified, shortly before this strange behavior occurred. Something clearly had changed between the time he left for his assignment and the hospital visit. The way the young knight reacted to his presence spoke for itself. He reacted with repulsion, eyes widening in some sort of revelation.
Palpatine didn’t understand it. He had spent years grooming the boy to become his apprentice. He took full advantage of his age to play up a grandfatherly persona. He had looked over the report of Anakin’s last mission countless times. The report was full of details from different perspectives, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Unless the report was falsified, nothing indicated Anakin’s turn. They could’ve make up that report to make him believe his plans were going smooth as usual. He scowled, knocking the papers off his desk. No. Skywalker wasn’t that smart! He was too impulsive to try a tactic such like that! Nor did he believe this of the Jedi council’s doings. He had made sure to plant enough doubt into Anakin to keep him from fully trusting the council ever.
He had hoped to make another visit to Skywalker’s hospital ward again, however the drudgery of a politician’s life kept him from going. Unfortunately, being a secret sith lord doesn’t allow him to bypass all the chancellor duties he was expected to uphold. Trust him, the senate meetings were no hoot to mediate. He knew sowing seeds of disharmony into the senate to make it divisive was part of his plan, but after a while, their incessant bickering started to grate on his nerves. There were too many voices, too many opinions all bottled up in one room. There’s a reason why he wants to do away with democracy. If not for the betterment of the galaxy as he sees fit, then for his own sanity.
He had naively hoped to be able to persuade all of them to readily follow his every suggestion, but there were stubborn minds in the senate. Some of them belonged to species that were impervious to Force tricks but others were just very stubborn idiots. Padme Amidala, being a key example. How he hated her!
He slammed his fist against the desk, growling at just the thought of that pestering woman. Another one of his foolish ambitions had been to make her into a puppet of his will. For a while, she’d been under his spell, or at least went along with his schemes. Begrudgingly, she had been vital to his rise as Chancellor. He’d orchestrated the entire conflict for that sole purpose; if she’d had refused to take his bait, it would’ve set his plans back a bit.
However, she grew up and shed her skin away from his control and he never managed to reclaim her as a pawn ever again. It infuriated him. The two played a game of chess. Sometimes he thought she was aware of his moves, his plans for the future. Other times he was fully convinced he had fooled her. Then again, she had grown to be quite a successful political activist. She was a thorn in his side and she knew it. She knew there was something about him that didn’t reek of the kind senator that she once knew.
Though they fully understood that the dynamic had shifted, they kept playing their roles. He played the role of her faithful former mentor and she kept playing her role as his grateful former student. He cursed himself inwardly for teaching her too well on how to work the political atmosphere. No matter. Sooner or later she’d either fall to his grasp once more or he’d dispose of Padme properly.
Of course, the main problem with Padme was Anakin’s schoolboy crush on her. He admired Padme greatly and it didn’t escape Palpatine’s eyes. She, too, appeared to share the same sentiment. Although young Skywalker claimed the two were only friends, even someone as blind as a bat could see they were in love.
Love. Even the word disgusted the Sith Lord.
The most worrying thing of this debacle was how easily swayed Skywalker could be of others. This was something Palpatine utilized to his advantage, but it meant he could easily fall onto Padme’s side. Something the Chancellor wished to avoid. It could very well be Padme’s influence that caused him to grow suspicious of Palpatine.
Palpatine sighed, mulling it over. He could not stoop to his future apprentice’s level and act impulsively about this matter. He didn’t get this far into his plans by acting on a whim. No, he thought things through slowly and deliberately.
As much as he hated having his pawn captured by Padme, it could prove useful in the end. A good Sith turns their opponent’s ambitions against them.
He smirked to himself. Yes, that’s exactly what he’ll do.
In another part of Coruscant, inside a dusty old temple, sat Anakin. He was completely unaware of Palpatine’s plotting, for he was in a predicament of his own.
He was alone in the suite, Ahsoka having stormed off somewhere into the depths of the temple. He hadn’t followed her, knowing it’d be best not to. She needed time alone to cool off. That wasn’t the only reason. He privately feared that the dark music would ensue if he attempted following.
It apparently hadn’t mattered though because the music followed him into the suite regardless. A melancholy tune hung over his head, taunting him of the events that occurred a few hours previous. It was a slow, dragging piece that kept subtly hinting those dreaded three notes. If Jedi were allowed to have holo discs, he might’ve tried blocking it out with space pop music or whatever was popular these days. He thought over the idea of smuggling in some discs, but he really didn’t want to try explaining his actions in front of the Jedi Council if discovered. There was a lot of tactics he pulled in defiance of the Council, but they usually had a justification behind them. This, he had nothing without sounding like a complete lunatic.
He hated the idea of what he was about to do: meditation. Having exhausted all the other solutions, it was the only option left. He hated meditation. He hated to sit still and try to focus on the massive feedback sent him all at once. However, it was the only option to hear what the Force had to say on this matter.
He wasn’t the most spiritually rooted Jedi; it one of the many reasons the Jedi Council loathed him. He never had to be, as the Force was always at his fingertips. Whereas others worked hard to strengthen the connection between them and the Force to grant them further strength and finesse. He still respected the Force, it was what freed him from his bondage of slavery. It was because of this respect that he was willing to attempt meditating.
Admittedly, the music sounded like it agreed with this sentiment, growing to a more hopeful tune again. It reminded him of the tune he heard with Ahsoka as they entered the Temple.
He took a deep breath and tried centering himself. His mind wanted to wander back to what Ahsoka had said and how she reacted—no, he couldn’t focus on that right now. The only thing that required his concentration was the Force. It didn’t matter how much the music was bothering him. It didn’t matter how squishy the meditation pillow was or how itchy his tunics were. Not even his aching muscles mattered. What mattered was being one with the Force and the Force being one with him. He was calm. He was peace. He was—
“Argh.” He complained out loud, opening his eyes before closing them once more.
He had to do this, he couldn’t go to Obiwan about this. For a brief moment, the idea of talking with Obiwan sounded alluring. He quickly squashed that idea down. He couldn’t face him when knowing how Obiwan would react. He’d think Anakin was going insane. He’d brush it off, telling him not to worry about it. That’ll “pass in time” much like his nightmares about his mom had.
Not to mention, Obiwan was busy trying to keep another planet fall into Separatists’ hands. He didn’t have a time to lend an ear to Anakin.
“Let me help you.” A voice interrupted his thoughts. Its words echoed against the crevices of his mind.
“W-what?” He spluttered out loud. He instinctively reached for his lightsaber as he scanned the room. Nothing.
“Relax,” The voice making a tsking sound, “Don’t be afraid.”
“How do I know you’re not some evil apparition?”
“Listen to the sounds, what do they think?” The voice spoke again. It sounded ancient and whimsical. He could tell by their tone that they were amused by his reaction.
Sighing, he listened intently to the music. It sounded nonthreatening, peaceful even. Nothing like those ominous trio of beats that still haunted the foreground of his mind. He felt like he could trust this voice. He didn’t know why, but it felt right by the Force to do so. It sounded crazy, but then again the Force is rarely logical in its’ actions. Very much like Anakin’s split-decision plans in heated moments of battle.
With that in mind, he slowly closed his eyes and once more focused on reaching out to the Force. The tidal waves that made up the Force crashed against him, threatening to drown him—but he didn’t struggle. He let them wash over him as he resisted the urge to fight against the immersion.
“Good.” The disembodied voice uttered.
Anakin twitched his nose but continued to concentrate on following the thread of the music. Everything leads back to the Force. The Force binds the whole galaxy together; without it, nothing exists. This is what Obiwan and the other Jedi cemented into his young skull. It was all about finding the connection between the object and the Force. As the Force makes up all things, so will a creation of the Force reflect its character. He was uncertain if this doctrine applied to a disembodied musical score, but it was worth a shot. He found himself losing control of his body, everything felt numb and foreign and unmovable by his thoughts. This worried him. He didn’t like giving up control of his body. It reminded him of bad things, like being a slave again—
“You are a child of the Force. The Force will not harm those who serve it dutifully.” The voice once again chastised.
Now that he had gone deeper into the Force, he attempted reaching out to the voice. He caught a brief glimpse.
The figure was shimmery, glowing dimly like a far-off star. The hood of the figure’s cloak obscured their face from Anakin. The glimpse faded once the figure turned its’ gaze towards him, catching him in the act.
“Don’t focus on me, young one. Focus on the Force,” They insisted, “My being is not more important than the Force that which binds all things together and holds the galaxy in place. I am merely here to give aid in your quest.”
He smirked. Typical dutiful Jedi. He shook his head—well his metaphoric head, as his spirit was currently detached from his body. He ventured further into the Force, past where he’d found the disembodied voice. He followed the music on a wild goose chase, straining his ears to hear strings and brass sections urging him to continue onwards. The music was the same as the one he encountered previously with Ahsoka and now the disembodied voice. That strong, united cry of hope. He pressed after it, always just a reach away from grasping it.
The music kept eluding him, leading him to going deeper and deeper into the Force. As he did, he felt the Force begin to move around him. Images of things long past flashed past him. A huge ship crashing into Corusant. Padme in pain. The Jedi Temple in flames. They flew by so quickly, he could barely comprehend what they meant.
Eventually, he came upon a forest. It wasn’t apart of his mind shield nor of anyone’s elses. The forest was alive with Force energy. The air hummed, replicating the tune he had been following the whole way down. He was starting to realize that the music wasn’t some crazy jacked up hallucination. Somehow it intertwined with the Force. No, it was the Force. Maybe the music acted like the language of the Force, its’ symphony screaming to anyone who listened hard enough.
“You are correct.” The spirit announced, appearing in front of Anakin.
Anakin stumbled back, surprised that the mysterious spirit had chosen to actually reveal itself to Anakin.
“Ho-how’d you—”
“My spirit is one with the Force—all thoughts known by the Force I also know.” The voice explained, “The music you are hearing—it is the music of the galaxy, something every Jedi could once hear. Each being has their own melody in the narrative. A melody that can shift and change depending on the paths one takes in life.”
“So those three beats,” Anakin swallowed.
“Could be a part of your melody if you keep going on your current path,” The spirit finished. His eyes had a gleam of sadness in them, and Anakin felt like he had let the being down despite having just met the being.
“The music is a manifestation of the Force. You should listen well to its’ warnings.”
Anakin drew a deep breath.
“Okay. You said that the music could be heard by all Jedi at one point, why’d that change? And how are you here? I was told that there is nothing—”
“but the Force after death?” The spirit raised an eyebrow, “In a way, that is true. I am not lying when I say that I am one with the Force. Like the ability to hear the galaxy’s symphony, it is an ability lost to the Jedi Order. One that requires extensive training while living. I died before completing my training—I can only manifest a physical appearance deep in the Force.”
As Anakin conversed more and more with the spirit, he couldn’t help but think how eerily familiar their voice sounded. There was no way he knew this person before they died—the ability to exist afterlife was something lost to the Jedi Order after all.
“What about the music, though? Wouldn’t that require training of some sort—like surviving being electrocuted a number of times?” Anakin cross his arms.
The spirit let out a booming laugh.
“While it does indeed normally require training, it does not involve being electrocuted a number of times,” The spirit said with mirth, “However, the Force felt like an…intervention was need on your behalf.”
“W-what?” Anakin said indignantly.
The spirit opened their mouth to say more when the forest began to shake, causing Anakin to grasp onto a tree trunk.
“Anakin?!” A voice echoed above the music of the forest—Ahsoka.
“It appears your padawan needs you.” The spirit commented, giving a meaningful look towards him, “It was good to see you again, Anakin.”
“Wait—what?!” He shouted. He attempted to step closer to the being only to be jolted backwards from the severance of the connection. His spirit flew back into his body quicker than he’d expected, as he suddenly snapped his eyes open into the increasingly worried gaze of Ahsoka.
He vaguely realized he was being cradled in her lap, something he remedied by sitting up hastily.
“Hey,” He croaked, “What’s up, Snips?”
Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at him before looking away.
“The Council wants to see us.”