Chapter Text
HOLONEWS DAILY
MORNING EDITION
This Week in the Senate
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“Oh, for Force’s sake.“ Obi-wan swiped his hand across the datapad, muting the tinny, nasal voice. The Holonews Daily’s new advertising schemes were an irritant. A petty annoyance which should have been inconsequential, if not for the spasms they set off behind his right eye.
Perhaps tomorrow they would cease to bother him.
Rubbing his forehead with his free hand, Obi-wan willed his muscles to relax. It would do him no good to allow these small physical symptoms to grow, to manifest as something that might be read in his features as displeasure, or Force forbid, hostility.
No, he would suppress those reactions, would dutifully ignore any urge to express his true opinions, to speak his mind to those he had been courting the past few weeks.
The Jedi lowered the datapad to his lap, fluttering his eyes closed. He reached inwards with the Force, pressing at the walls of tension in his chest. The impassive mass gave way to warm, almost sultry satisfaction - a soft, crimson blanket which dulled the edges of his irritation, settling the tendrils of a migraine that had been threatening to blossom for the past three days.
A simple calming exercise. Necessary, in light of what was to come - of what was expected.
The assignment required it of him.
A series of chimes interrupted his reverie, an unwelcome chill in his pleasant cocoon.
Damn.
The assignment also required he finish this research. Preferably before being summoned to the first of what was certain to be another day of tedious, pointless meetings.
Reluctantly, Obi-wan unfurled his senses from the comfort of his inner mind, bringing his awareness back to the room around him. He glanced at the small timepiece hanging over the door.
This was a meaningless charade - political theater.
On the other hand, a necessity. Not only for the Order, but for himself.
He brought the datapad level with his eyes.
Tap.
Security Bill debate continues in Senate
Debate over the controversial Military Enhancement Act II (MEA II) continued for the second week in the Senate, with no accord in sight. MEA II would further expand the powers of the Chancellor’s office, allowing the requirement of majoirty Senate approval to be bypassed in military emergencies.
Critics of the bill, including Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila, claim this latest of several amendments to constitutional law would render the role of the Senate moot.
“Already the Chancellor’s office has accumulated unprecedented emergency powers in light of the war against the Separatists. At what point can we admit the Senate has become all but perfunctory? When must we explain to our constituents that we no longer speak for them in matters of war and peace, of life and death? The balance of power must be kept in order for the Republic to remain a functioning democracy.”
Over-involvement of special interest groups and legislative gridlock are only two of many arguments cited by those supporting the bill.
“The recent fall of Hypoxia to the Separatists was a completely preventable event,” Senator Edcel Bar Gane of Roona told reporters in a press conference. “But this endless deliberation in the Senate has all but neutered the Republic, making us sitting ducks all while the Separaists move with single purpose under Count Dooku. We should worry more about the destruction of the Republic itself than a few temporary changes to our legislature. Changes, mind you, that would allow us to do our jobs - to legislate and protect our people from the Separatist threat.”
The original Military Enhancement Act, approved by the Senate immediately following the attack at the Festival of Light on Naboo, has led to heightened security measures on Coruscant, including the controversial “stop and search” policy, and well as stiff penalties for piracy, smuggling, and suspected terrorism.
Stiff penalties. Well, wasn’t that a pleasant euphemism for indefinite military detention and the "disappearance" of several mid-level criminal figures?
The criminals were most likely dead by the Republic's increasingly iron hand. And while Obi-wan couldn’t quite muster sympathy for those who had been eliminated, the situation as a whole galled him. After all, it was his failure at the Festival of Light that had precipitated -
No. Not his failure.
Obi-wan shifted in his seat, the coarse fabric of the ancient couch catching on his Jedi tunics.
Meditation on what he had come to call “The Naboo Incident” led the Jedi to the conclusion that there was nothing more he could have done. Every action, every decision he made had been in the interests of Republic, of helping the Order, of fulfilling his duty to the Council and their thrice-damned, thick-headed "plan" to fake his own death and go undercover as Rako Hardeen.
And look where that landed you, Kenobi.
Obi-wan balled a fist, ignoring the faint rattling on the other side of the room.
Tap.
He opened the next article.
Appropriations bill sets up showdown between GAR and Jedi Council
A new appropriations bill passed the Senate Military Oversight Commitee, sending the legislation to a full Senate vote next week. Appropriations Bill 5074 would curtail military funding to the High Jedi Council, redirecting funds to GAR command, which in turn disseminate those moneys under their purview.
Analysts believe the passage of AB-5074 would further restrict the long-standing autonomy of the High Jedi Council, which has already been accused of inadequacy and ineffectiveness in the war against the Separatists, criticism that only increased with last month's attempted kidnapping of Chancellor Palpatine at the Festival of Light.
Critics of the Jedi applauded this latest move as necessary and past due, as unsubstantiated rumors of a Jedi coup continue to swirl around the capital.
GAR press representative Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin disputed those claims, commenting that the Jedi have so far been “mostly capable partners.” Tarkin went to say that the new funding structure was an “internal matter.” When asked about repercussions for the Order, Tarkin only replied that he would work closely with the High Council on all matters of military funding, and that passage of this bill was a strong statement of the Republic’s faith in the GAR non-Jedi military leadership.
The Jedi High Council could not be reached for comment.
Obi-wan tugged at his battered leather gloves, gritting his teeth. They were too tight in the fingers, too loose in the palms - perfectly ill-fitted. He had been meaning to order replacements ever since Naboo, but...
The rattling on the far wall crescendoed. Obi-wan frowned. Certainly there were no imminent groundquakes on the planet (never on Coruscant, where WeatherNet would have seen to that imperfection long ago). Not an enemy assault, not a bombing, to be sure. Only a simple jangle of glass, likely the product of shoddy construction in a faraway factory. Nothing that would indicate a crack in the integrity of this multimillion credit building and its denizens -
Tap.
Sector governance trial period underway
The local government restructure known as “Sector Governance” kicked off its trial period yesterday with a small ceremony at the Galactic Opera House. Implemented under the "Emergency Powers Act,” the six-month test will see Levels 117 to 68 put under the direct control of a sector governor appointed by Chancellor Palpatine.
What was the point of attending these meetings? The political situation was rapidly slipping from their control, was likely beyond salvaging. Was this the best the Council could do? Send him to meet with obsequious senators and hawkish military leaders who wanted nothing better than the abolition of the Jedi altogether?
Obi-wan stared at the photo of Chancellor Palpatine and the three sector governors. The opera house served as a spectacular backdrop, golden balconies and crimson velvet curtains lending an air of opulence to the scene. Opulence funded by the very same senators, trade representatives, and Banking Clan members who flanked the edges of the image.
They were fools. Fools stewing in the sweet abscess of their own corruption.
And he perhaps the greatest fool of all for continuing in this futile endeavor.
He wanted to walk away. Every morning of the past few weeks, Obi-wan had envisioned striding out the front doors of the Senate building, of taking his meager belongings and jumping on the first transport off Coruscant. Let them wait, let them all wonder - let the Council try and puzzle together what they should have ages ago.
A quiet crack emanated from the corner - a subtle release of pressure, like a small geothermal vent.
Blood rushed to the Jedi's head, alive, almost jubilant.
There it was - viscous and ropy, an impossible shade of violet he couldn’t see but could feel in the pits of his organs. Projected beyond physical limitation and into the Force itself, it caressed his mind and soothed his fears.
Power crackled at his fingertips. Obi-wan wondered why he kept this facade at all.
After all, there was nothing left for him but hollow duty, nothing to salvage from the detritus of his own failures, no one -
Color faded to an empty grey.
Not quite no one.
Anxiety fluttered in his stomach.
No. No, this was wrong, this wasn’t him.
An aberration, a tool - a way to make it right, to help.
But just one more taste -
An unfortunate predilection. Temporary.
Nothing he couldn’t handle.
The glass pane spasmed.
Tap.
Eyewitness accounts of “Rogue Jedi” in Fourth Attack on Lower Levels
Supreme Chancellor Palpatine calls attacks “cowardly” and “an affront to the Republic and the Jedi Order.”
An explosion at factory #41 on Level 103 disrupted Holonet access for two hours in the newly-named Venmar sector. No injuries were reported.
Surveillance footage showed the explosion, which took place at 21:07, followed by a series of flashing green lights before cameras were disabled. Slash lines found at the scene were consistent with some form of plasma weapon, Coruscant authorities report. An unnamed official speculated on the nature of the marks. “The only weapon I know that could cause that particular type of damage is a lightsaber.”
This is the fourth such incident in as many weeks.
Previous attacks left three homeless Rodians dead near the Works. Republic authorities have not released autopsy results. Documents obtained by Holonews Daily indicate the theft of nanotech supplies from the bombed factories. The poisoning of a Republic scientist has also been linked to the attacks.
Once thought to be isolated incidents, authorities now believe these attacks to be the work of a small cadre of anti-Republic actors, possibly a rogue Jedi or someone posing as such, citing similar reports of flashing green lights and ozone residue at other sites.
Tap.
Op-Ed: The Jedi Order: Relevant or a Dangerous Relic?
TAP.
Mandalore holds firm on neutrality despite uptick in violence
“We refuse to be forced into action by these cowardly attacks,” Duchess Satine Kyrze told reporters. “The Council of Neutral Systems will - ”
TAPTAPTAP.
Too much Spice in your life?
Come see us at the CCAC.
Your life. Made right.
He imagines what the reaction might be, walking through the front doors of the Central Coruscant Addiction Center. The vacant stares of junkies he’s met in dark alleys of the Lower Levels (the same vacant stares he’s seen in the highest towers of the Senate apartments). Would they recognize him as different from any other fallen being who had crawled their way into this supposed haven for the lost?
Dangerous, the staff would think, narrowing their eyes.
A Jedi. Not to be trusted.
They had learned down here, had learned in the long and hard lessons forged in the crucible of an unending war - secrecy and death followed the Order like a long shadow.
They did not need the Jedi's help.
They did not want the Jedi's help.
(He wanted to help. That was his objective, his mission. That is what the Jedi did this was why he had - )
(But Jedi themselves did not ask for help. Qui-gon had never done so. Not on Bandomeer. Not when Tahl lay dying. Not even when faced with the angry, red Sith in a soulless reactor shaft on Naboo.)
(*He* asked you for help, didn't he? Asked, requested - extended his hand.)
What do you need help with, Master Jedi, the clerk would inquire.
(No, Obi-wan would explain, I'm here to help. This is only a tool, a method, something to be cast off when this is all over. Nothing irrational, no lack of forethought, of weakness. He was not weak, he was accepting the truth so many others wouldn't, he was only trying to help, to sew together the tatters of the Republic, to make the Order see, to protect Anakin, don't you understand - )
Knock, knock, knock.
Across the room, glass shattered in a discordant cluster of pain.
(Help me, please.)
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Master Kenobi?”
The voice held no malice or accusation, nor any worry.
It did not offer help.
“Yes?”
“Admiral Tarkin is ready to see you.”
Council business. His business.
(Was it helping, or further propagating a lie?)
Obi-wan Kenobi, Jedi Liasion to the Senate.
Jedi pawn.
The Jedi grit his teeth, waving his hand in a spastic motion. The door to the chamber groaned, then swept open, revealing a bored Senate page. Clad in the typical intern pale blue, he leaned against the wall of the corridor, the very picture of indifference.
Obi-wan rose from the couch, tucking his datapad under his arm. He brushed a hand over his tunics, hoping to dispel any stubborn pieces of lint.
"You will need to have that portrait reframed," Obi-wan said, gesturing towards the collection of broken glass near the window. "And next time do tell your repair staff to secure it with something a little more durable than tack. It wouldn't do for all the pictures in this building to come crashing down with a mere breeze." He gave a wry grin. "Bad for diplomacy, really."
“Of course, Master Jedi. I'll let facilities know.” The young man responded, not meeting Obi-wan’s eyes. His attention was diverted by the holopad in his grasp, slim fingers swiping through a Senate schedule and a series of Holonet articles, all while he typed in the service request with alarming speed.
"Very well, then. Please lead on."
Obi-wan made a lazy gesture at the waiting room over his shoulder. The door closed with a gentle whoosh, sending the flimsi of Master Yoda’s portrait fluttering across the empty floor.