Chapter Text
Mace Windu glanced at Master Fisto behind him and drew his purple lightsaber. “In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you’re under arrest, Chancellor.” He trusted Senator Amidala or Senator Organa to get Jango Fett to divulge incriminating details of nefarious activity, but right now Master Windu was bluffing, and Sheev Palpatine knew it.
“Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?” The Sith master sneered.
“The Senate will decide your fate.” Master Windu did not really believe this, but it was important to cover one’s backside, and to avoid feeding the perception that the Jedi were uppity and above the law.
“I am the Senate!” Sheev Palpatine remained seated, but loomed forward in his seat in a threatening manner.
“Not yet.” Master Windu called his opponent’s bluff.
The Supreme Chancellor rose to his feet and snarled, “It’s treason, then.” as he drew his red saber. With a savage cry and a spinning leap, he made straight for Master Fisto, who had slipped into the chamber behind Master Windu. He had only just entered the room and had his back to the wall, effectively cornering him as he tried to parry the attack. Darth Sidious proved to be more agile than expected as he thrust his red saber through Master Fisto’s left shoulder, quite close to his heart. Master Fisto turned those huge black eyes on the Supreme Chancellor but did not smile as he sank to the floor, the Dark Side Force-use having amplified the pain of his injury.
Mace Windu glared at the Supreme Chancellor as he led him from the office down a corridor, barely registering the golden statues of hooded figures, blood red carpeting, and other décor details that hinted at the Supreme Chancellor’s true affiliation all along. They reached a larger reception room, where Obi-Wan used to come for drinks, Sheev Palpatine consistently aiming directly for Master Windu’s belly.
Kit Fisto pulled himself up to his feet by the doorjamb and staggered back out into the hall, where Master Kolar was on standby. Seeing his colleague injured, he wrapped an arm around Master Fisto’s shoulder and walked him down the hall, back to the Jedi Temple. Master Fisto grinned through his pain when he remembered that he had recorded the entire exchange on his datapad. Let Senator Amidala leak that, too, while Bant inevitably mother-henned over him during his upcoming imprisonment in the Halls of Healing.
Mace Windu realized that he was holding back at some level, perhaps because they were physically in the Supreme Chancellor’s reception room and not in the middle of a dangerous mission on some sithspit planet, or maybe because he was used to friendly spars when both parties had lightsabers. This was no friendly spar; this was the Sith master who was not going to spare him. There would be no courteous bow at the end of the match. Master Windu screwed up his features into a terrifying scowl and redoubled his efforts, finally putting his Vaapad to use.
He pressed toward the window, thinking to corner the Sith master, who was jumping and leaping about in a manner most extraordinary for a man of his age. Not even Master Dooku attempted some of those moves. The Dark Side emotions powering Sheev Palpatine seemed to make him flamboyant in his approach. Good, keep him expending his energy with those feral yowls and wild leaps, tiring him out so that he could be cornered. Mace Windu knew how to pace himself.
When they reached the window, the Supreme Chancellor shattered the glass with his red lightsaber, in another flagrant act of disregard toward the taxpayers of the galaxy. Darth Sidious let his emotions fuel his wild leaps; Mace Windu saw his chance. A kick to the saber hand sent the red lightsaber hurtling down into the street below as the Supreme Chancellor scrambled into the corner of the oval window frame.
At that moment Obi-Wan, Maul, Jango Fett, and Cody entered the office suite, with Jeri-Mar Kenobi standing just outside at her boys’ insistence. Little Boba would be safe with Anakin in Senator Organa’s office, especially with Padme present as well. Anyone who actually knew her knew better than to underestimate her.
Obi-Wan smiled. Here we are, Master, rooting out corruption and combatting the Dark Side in the most maverick way I could think of. He could almost see Qui-Gon smiling at him, dismissing his very bad feelings about a variety of situations. Funny that he had a very good feeling going into this confrontation with the Sith master.
The group came into the reception room, where two dark figures were outlined against the aperture where the window should have been. “You are under arrest, my lord,” snarled Master Windu as he threatened the Supreme Chancellor with a purple lightsaber to his throat.
“Knight Kenobi. What a pleasant surprise. How nice of you to visit me in my office like old times. I still have some sweet brandy for Naboo kaf in the cabinet by the wall, and there is hot kaf in the urn on top of the cabinet. Do make yourself at home as we discuss your very promising career.”
All eyes turned to Obi-Wan, who looked down at his feet. How had he been so easy to fool, to string along for all those years? He had failed as a Jedi, to be sure, if he could not follow the Code himself and had not only tolerated but encouraged his apprentice to do the same as a culmination of the complete bungling of the boy’s education, and worse, had allowed the Sith master to sink his tentacles into both Anakin and himself. Poor Ahsoka was now also stuck with a proven failure for a master, the ultimate pathetic lifeform. This was all his fault. Back in his drinking days, being in the presence of the Supreme Chancellor had a way of making Obi-Wan feel bad about himself, generally until he shared a drink with the man, so that he would leave this office feeling important and sophisticated. He noticed that he had these thoughts again, now that he was back in this place. Was he being mind-tricked to feel this way, or was it simply the emotional memory of the times he had been here before?
“And Jango Fett. I’m sorry, I only pay for services delivered, not time wasted. That clone behind you is my property, which you are attempting to use without my permission. You have been quite unprofessional.” He raised his hands in that familiar gesture and began to choke Jango Fett. Cody rushed to his side, but since there were no visible hands on his throat, there was nothing he could do. The color drained from Jango Fett’s face as he gasped and collapsed to the floor, dead, his own hands wrapped around his throat.
Darth Sidious began to laugh, then turned his gaze on Maul. “So you fancy yourself a Jedi, now, do you? You know they will never accept you, given all the things you’ve done. Even young Skywalker was supposed to be too old at nine years old. You’re thirty. Thirty years I wasted on you. I fed you, clothed you, trained you. See for yourself, the Jedi are taking over.”
“Trained me? No, you abused me. The food was bad, besides. You took both of my biological brothers from me. I won’t let you take my adopted brother, too. The oppression of the Sith way will never return.”
Mace Windu edged closer to Darth Sidious. “See? You have lost completely.”
The pretense of helpless old man Sheev Palpatine started to drop, as Darth Sidious twisted his features into a snarling grin and began to intone, “No, no, you will die!” in a much deeper voice than anyone had ever heard him use before.
In the next moment, twin streams of Force lightning shot from the Supreme Chancellor’s two hands, one aimed at Master Windu, the other at Maul. Master Windu deflected the lightning back into the Supreme Chancellor with his purple lightsaber, aging his face well beyond the seventy Standard or so of its usual appearance, while Maul was not quite prepared. His hand was still on the hilt of his own double-bladed purple saber. It was Obi-Wan who caught the attack, giving Maul a chance to regroup. In his daily life as a newly-married hospital orderly on Stewjon, Maul did not have much use for his saber, and thus found himself a bit rusty.
Darth Sidious turned his head to look straight at Mace Windu. “He’s a traitor!”
Master Windu continued to adjust the position of his saber to deflect the Force lightning. “No, he’s the traitor!”
Obi-Wan’s lip quivered. All of this was because of him. If he submitted to the Chancellor, or at least made a show of it, the Force lightning would stop. Jango Fett was already dead, leaving Boba orphaned. The Organas would be happy to bring him up, but he would still bear the trauma of having lost a father violently, a trauma that Obi-Wan himself knew all too well. And Maul had been through enough already. He had a civilian bride and two little stepdaughters waiting for him at home on Stewjon, who would be devastated if anything happened to him.
“You have the power to save the ones you love, even those millions of worthless clones, and I have the power to grant you unlimited capacity for alcohol! You are the real Chosen One, you will master both sides of the Force, so that you will no longer be bound by senseless rules and regulations that jealous Jedi use to bind your power. If you join me of your own will, there will be no need for this or any more fighting with fools who will never understand you. You must choose correctly, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The Supreme Chancellor was looking straight at Obi-Wan now. It was clear to him that the Supreme Chancellor had indeed been deliberate in encouraging him to drink in the first place, and that he would zap or choke everyone around Obi-Wan until he returned to drinking full-time. He did not want unlimited capacity for alcohol, but he did not want his friends and family to suffer.
“Don’t listen to him, Obi-Wan.” Maul took a step forward to block any Force lightning aimed at Obi-Wan. He was not going to let his brother relapse.
The Supreme Chancellor continued to visibly age and weaken as the Force lightning bounced off of the lightsabers held by the targets, and his tone changed again, back to helpless old man mode. “Don’t let them kill me! I can’t hold it any longer. I can’t. I’m weak. I’m too weak. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope. I can’t hold on any longer.”
As soon as the Force lightning stopped, Mace Windu brought his purple lightsaber to Sheev Palpatine’s throat. “I’m going to end this once and for all. He’s too dangerous to be left alive.”
Obi-Wan merely stared, shell-shocked. He did not want to defend the Supreme Chancellor, but killing him did not seem like the Jedi way, especially when they had him outnumbered like this.
“I’m too weak. Oh, don’t kill me, please.” Sheev Palpatine continued his act.
“Well, it’s not the Jedi way.” Obi-Wan muttered to himself. When he looked up and into the Supreme Chancellor’s yellow Sith eyes, they reminded him of Maul, of Anakin, even of his own eyes when they were turning green before he got sober. Perhaps it was too late and the Dark Side had already claimed him. He was tainted, a pathetic lifeform. Just as it was not possible to reverse the pickling process and get a fresh vegetable again, even if he stayed sober, he would always be an alcoholic.
“Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are already mine. You were mine from the day you accepted that first bottle of whiskey. There is another like it in the cabinet. Go ahead, help yourself. You’re a drunk, you will always be a drunk, but if you join me, we shall have power, unlimited power!” Sheev Palpatine suddenly resumed his Force-lightning attack on Maul, who was caught unprepared and dropped his double saber, sinking to his knees.
“Clone commander, take that saber and give it to me.” Darth Sidious addressed Cody, clearly expecting to hook the part of his psyche that had been conditioned to obey saber-wielders without question.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you are no Jedi. I take orders from Jedi. I know a Jedi when I see one, too. Master-Kenobi-from-Stewjon is a real Jedi, because he’s a legendary figure among us clones. Taun We spoke highly of him, as did the clones who actually met him. I take orders from him and any other Jedi that he trusts.”
Sheev Palpatine’s face erupted once more into a truly horrifying snarl. He had never expected the clones to be smart enough to tell Jedi from Sith, or to side with Kenobi over the very person who had commissioned their creation. Perhaps it was Kenobi who was too dangerous to be left alive.
“That’s enough of that.” Master Windu raised his purple lightsaber to strike down the Supreme Chancellor, only to be Force-pushed out of the window, his lightsaber clattering to the floor. Sheev Palpatine summoned the weapon to himself and jumped up from his position. He was not actually helpless after all.
“You will take your medicine, Kenobi!” The cabinet doors flew open and the bottle of whiskey flew into the Supreme Chancellor’s hand. He unscrewed the top and approached Obi-Wan with it. “All of this can end, Kenobi. Share this bottle with me, drink of the power of the Dark Side, and I might spare this useless spicehead of a pathetic lifeform who is so inexplicably important to you. Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”
“Yes, I did. From a Jedi, in fact. It’s not a story the Sith will tell.” Maul spoke up from the floor, his eyes bright but russet, not yellow. He smirked despite being kept on his knees at saberpoint, enjoying the look of disgust and horror on his old master’s face. “Another thing the Sith don’t tell you is that the Dark Side is bad for your health, especially your teeth, and yet the Sith do not have any kind of medical care comparable to the Halls of Healing that you Jedi have.” Maul flashed Obi-Wan a recently-reconstructed grin. “You’re much better off as a Jedi.”
Garen was flying in a speeder just outside the Jedi Temple when he saw a humanoid figure in freefall just above him. He flew into position to catch the being, only to discover that it was none other than Master Windu himself.
“Master Windu? What happened to you?”
“The Supreme Chancellor himself was the Sith master. Obi-Wan and Maul are in there with him, along with one of the clones, trying to stop the barve.”
Garen knew better than to bring up the likely chain of events that led to Master Windu being thrown out the window. Instead, he frowned thoughtfully. “It’s all over the news about the Kaminoan clones and the Supreme Chancellor’s plan to kill the juveniles. His approval ratings have really fallen in the past few hours. It makes sense that he’s the Sith master if he comes up with a scheme like that.”
Obi-Wan took the bottle from the Supreme Chancellor, cradling it in his hands. A little over two years ago, he would have downed the entire contents without hesitation. It was incredible to think that this foul-smelling, foul-tasting brown liquid had had such a hold on him. If he drank from this bottle now, it would again.
“Remember, padawan. Your focus determines your reality.”
Obi-Wan smiled to hear Qui-Gon’s voice. He still missed his old master, all these years later. Obi-Wan caught a whiff of Qui-Gon’s hair oil, which immediately calmed him. It took him a moment to realize that it was Padme who was wearing it, probably for the management of her curls. Whatever the reason she had chosen to wear it, Padme was unwittingly helping Obi-Wan to stay centered. Surprisingly, even Maul reacted to it. He must have gotten more than a whiff of the fragrance during their duel all those years ago as Qui-Gon’s hair whipped in his face. Padme had entered the office.
“You’re right that I’m just a pathetic lifeform. But there’s nothing wrong with that, and if anything, I think it’s important. It takes a pathetic lifeform to truly serve the galaxy and the Republic, because how can a knight understand and protect the weak unless he accepts and embraces that weakness in himself? You say I am the Chosen One. But isn’t each of us chosen in some capacity?”
Darth Sidious was growling now. Kenobi’s confounded humility kept getting in the way. How was such a pathetic little being the Chosen One? The Force worked in mysterious ways, to be sure, but this was ridiculous.
Padme and Jeri-Mar Kenobi crept through the office, down the corridor, and towards the entrance to the reception room. The sight of Maul on his knees, kept there by Master Windu’s lightsaber pointed at his neck, made Mrs. Kenobi’s blood boil. How dare that monster threaten her boys. Padme had one hand in the billowing sleeve of her other arm, fingering the blaster hidden there. Seeing the look in the older woman’s eyes, she lifted up the skirts of her dress and produced another blaster from a holster on her garter belt, handing it to her.
Cody stood in the doorway, ready to offer support to the legendary Master-Kenobi-from-Stewjon certainly, perhaps even to the red-skinned man who did not seem to be a Jedi but was clearly on the same side as Master Kenobi. If he wanted to, he could probably escape undetected, but that was not what he was trained to do.
Obi-Wan moved even closer to the Supreme Chancellor, still cradling the bottle. “Oh yes, we are going to empty this bottle.”
Maul glanced up at Obi-Wan in alarm. No, don’t drink that. Nothing good can come from being Darth Sidious’ apprentice. I would know.
“You say I am the Chosen One, that I am special, that I can be above the Code. Did you even read the Code, though? Did you read the prophecy itself? The Chosen One is to bring balance to the Force.”
“Yes, by embracing the Dark Side. You have already been trained by Jedi chumps and losers in the Light. It is time to complete your training. The Code you have been taught is designed to keep you in servitude. Embrace the Sith Code and obtain unlimited power. Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The Force shall free me. But there is a shortcut to growing your passion and power. Drink of the power that I am offering you.” Darth Sidious was getting tired of this. How could Kenobi be so slow on the uptake?
“That is not how I understand the prophecy. By following the Old Code, I have learned much. Emotion, yet peace. My sympathy for suffering has strengthened my commitment to guarding peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. It is by being small, pathetic, and ignorant, like the weakest being I am sworn to serve and protect, that I have gained knowledge and insight into how to best safeguard them. Passion, yet serenity. Love and attachment are different things. My love has brought me clarity of purpose, thus serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. I have embraced the messy chaos of life through tolerance and acceptance of myself and others, which has brought me harmony. Death, yet the Force. My mentors and loved ones who have died continue to guide me through the Force. You say I am kept in servitude, yes, but there is honor in service to a greater good. I am far from a perfect, luminous being, but it is my very imperfection that makes me perfect for service as a Jedi.”
It was Cody who noticed the two women. Perhaps because of the way he was programmed, his training as a commander took over as he motioned to them to come closer while using the elaborate furnishings of the room for cover. Padme knew what he was trying to do as he orchestrated their approach, having experienced military situations before, but Mrs. Kenobi did not. She did, however, have years of experience of following directives from doctors in her long career as a nurse, and was thus used to taking orders. Cody was relieved to see how quickly she caught on.
Darth Sidious growled some more as he shifted his focus from Maul to Obi-Wan and back again. He was certain there was some kind of wordless communication passing between them, but he could not tap into it. They were not using the tentative bond forged through joint meditation. No, this was a different kind of telepathy, primal, most likely a brother bond.
Maul began to sing. “Vode an, ka’rta tor! ” in a semi-trained baritone. Cody joined in, then Obi-Wan. Darth Sidious was a bit unnerved by this, since he had not expected to be serenaded; he inadvertently lowered the lightsaber in his hand, allowing Maul to pick up his own double-bladed saber and rise to his feet. He ignited his saber, now purple, and sliced off Darth Sidious’ arm in the middle of his bicep. Mace Windu’s saber clattered to the floor along with the severed arm. As Darth Sidious reached down for it with his other hand, quite forgetting in his shock to use the Force to call it to him, Obi-Wan took the opportunity to leap on top of the seat of the Supreme Chancellor’s chair, still holding the open whiskey bottle in one hand.
“It’s over. I have the high ground,” he observed as he poured the whiskey out onto the body of Sheev Palpatine, who was still on all fours on the floor.
At a signal from Cody, Padme and Mrs. Kenobi opened fire on the Sith master, thereby igniting the whiskey that drenched his robes and hair. Cody found some bottles of utoz in the cabinet, which he opened and handed to Obi-Wan, who poured those out onto the Supreme Chancellor as well, prolonging the flames. The bottles were more than likely intended for Obi-Wan’s use anyway.
“As they say, a man takes a drink, the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes the man. You were my friend, Chancellor. I liked you. I didn’t want to believe that you were evil.”
“From my point of view, the Jedi are evil! It’s not too late, you can still join on me on the Dark Side!” Sheev Palpatine gasped as the flames engulfed him.
“I will never join you.” Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and held it above the Supreme Chancellor. The blue light from the blade combined with the bright firelight for an interesting effect that was strangely beautiful.
“Then you are lost!” Darth Sidious wheezed as Mace Windu came back into the office. He called his lightsaber to himself with the Force, casually prying the severed arm’s death grip off of the hilt, before pronouncing him under arrest again. Darth Sidious was still too dangerous to be left alive, but proper protocols must still be followed. When the severely-burned Sith master raised his remaining hand, albeit feebly, in an attempt to unleash Force-lightning, Mace Windu sliced this off as well, on the grounds that the disgraced Chancellor was resisting arrest.
Mrs. Kenobi approached from behind Cody, still holding Padme’s spare blaster, which she had never handled in her life before today. She regarded this man, who had targeted her boys, for a long moment. “Nobody hurts my boys and gets away with it.” The Chancellor’s yellow eyes went wide in horror as she delivered another shot at close range. It had not been Mother Talzin that he needed to worry about, but Mrs. Kenobi.
Cody and Maul helped Master Windu remove the charred remains of the dying traitor while Jeri-Mar Kenobi threw her arms around her third son, checking him for damage. A few minutes later Ahsoka came running in, Master Dooku and Bant not far behind her, while Garen appeared in the doorway.
“Master!” Ahsoka flung herself at Obi-Wan, wrapping her arms around his torso from the side. Padme smiled and slipped out. She had a report to file.
“That was wizard, Master.” Obi-Wan heard Anakin over their training bond, which was still robust. The young knight must have been watching the proceedings through the security holocamera footage.
When Maul returned, Mrs. Kenobi turned her attention to him and assessed him for damage as well, squeezing him in a tight embrace. “I’m so proud of my boys!”
Darth Sidious had been in his holding cell for less than a day when he died of his injuries, necessitating a Senate-wide vote to name a new Supreme Chancellor. Although Mas Amedda was one of the favorites, he declined the position out of shocked anger and remorse at having served so closely under a traitor and failing to notice. Bail Organa also declined, citing family concerns, namely, the adoption process for young Boba Fett-Organa. Thus it was that Naboo found itself in need of a new senator yet again.
One of the first new policies Supreme Chancellor Amidala adopted was to strengthen the Jedi Order and Republic’s mandate to aggressively prosecute slavers wherever they were found. A galaxy safe for the poorest, most insignificant “pathetic lifeforms” was, after all, a galaxy in which everyone was safe.