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Chapter Text

“I need him!” Desperation radiated off Skywalker and his blue blade emerged from nowhere severing Mace’s sword hand. Mace’s lightsaber went tumbling.

Without it, he could no longer block the lightning.

“Unlimited power!” Palpatine screamed with corrupted glee, throwing bolts of force lightning at the Jedi Master. It crackled and ripped at his skin, burning its way through flesh, muscle and bone.

Mace’s last defences folded under the assault and he was blasted through the shattered plexiglass window frame, away from the Sith, out into the Coruscanti night. The Jedi master tumbled through the air; above him the stars burned, below the lights appeared so small. 

Betrayed.

Broken. 

Mace felt only shock, he had finally trusted Skywalker. Anakin had spied on Palpatine, revealed the Sith Lord, stayed the course and finally trusted the council—trusted Mace— to finish the job. Anakin was supposed to be a true Jedi.

Perhaps Mace was the one who was wrong. Palpatine’s trust in Skywalker was supposed to be his weakness, but weakness and strength flipped like two sides of the same coin when the path was so unclear. Skywalker’s desperation—his dependence on Sidious for guidance—had been stronger than his loyalty to the Jedi. 

Steam curled around his stump, the stench of scorched flesh suffocated in the wet night air. Whirling, whipping, swirling, falling. The pain around his stump couldn’t compare to the fire in his nerves. Mace couldn’t hear, he couldn’t breathe. Between him and the ground was only air. There were no speeders to slow his fall, no platforms or ships to catch. He was too close to the Senate no fly zone and too far from the building itself. His lightsaber was gone.

It was all so quiet now. 

The quiet was serene, his thoughts no longer so loud but clouded and muted. He was so tired with the edges of his consciousness fraying under the weight of exhaustion. For the  umpteenth time he thought about finally going to rest.

But no. There was still work yet undone. Mace felt himself slipping and gripped tighter. He held onto his consciousness like a lifeline, it was life or death. Who knew what Palpatine was capable of while still free. Mace’s failure had been a shatterpoint of catastrophic potential. He had to regroup, to warn the temple! 

Why hadn’t he secured the temple before! 

Because he was confident in his victory?

Skywalker had been there to do it for him? 

Excuses. His arrogance blinded him.

Mace drew on his last wells of strength and pushed through the pain. TAKE CONTROL . He centred himself in the eye of his own storm. Extending his limbs, focusing the scream of his nerves and cloud of the dark side into his task. His fall slowed. 

The Jedi Master immersed himself deeper into the force, deeper than he went fighting Palpatine, drowning himself in the living force. The deeper he went the more pain he felt, opening every one of his senses to perceive everything. He would not join the force, but it would be close. Familiar outlines and shapes played in his mind. Familiar signatures in the force, ghosts of Jedi long dead and times long past.

The Korun Jedi searched for a path, a choice, a shatterpoint away from death, a weakness in the ground which rushed closer to kill him. He still had PURPOSE. 

The force guided his hand and he pulled a repulsor billboard flat right before impact. The sign absorbed his impact with a sickening crunch and he rolled across its surface, his mauled arm shattering with a sickening snap. Flesh against chrome. In the end he could only let out a whimper. 

Mace lay there as the billboard righted itself, sending him tumbling into the warren of streets and alleyways below. Black spots overcame his vision and the last thing he saw was Palpatine’s grandfatherly features plastered on a shattered signboard. 

…

The Tranquility spire was quiet. 

“Master?” His padawan looked up at him. 

Mace put a hand on his forehead “I’m alright Depa, I felt strange for a moment…” 

“It must be joy.” Depa joked, coaxing a small upturn from his lips. “Hey, you smiled.” She was grinning from ear to ear.

Mace refocused and assumed an emotionless expression “I did no such thing padawan.”

She pulled his mouth into a smile. “Yes you did.”

Mace turned his head and scoffed, hiding his grin.

“Hey, you did so!” She put her hands on her hips.

Depa was twenty four now. All the time they had spent with one another was now at an end. He felt saddened and happy to see her knighted. Mace wasn’t sure which he felt more but chose to be honest. “It is important to let go my Padawan… but still, I will miss you.”

“We’ll still be together.” She gave him a small smile but brushed her hand across her padawan braid. Separate from the rest of her long braided hair, the padawan braid, twelve years grown, was a rainbow of coloured bands, a story of moments in her apprenticeship. 

He looked with pride at the complete braid. White for when she saved her first life, blue for when she fixed something broken, yellow for the time she defeated him in combat… it continued until it reached her waist where the colours were cut off by a blue bow at the bottom. She had tied the bow there on a whim when she was 15 but it ended up staying there, marking the end goal of their partnership.

She beamed “Come on master I’ll be fine” wrapping him in a hug.

“I know.” He replied “I will see you when your meditation is finished. Padawan, may the force be with you.”

…

When the time finally came, he felt Depa was ready. Mace climbed the Tranquility spire with pride.

The old words felt right as Mace activated his lightsaber. “We are all Jedi. The Force speaks through us. Through our actions, the Force proclaims itself and what is real. Today we are here to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed” Depa knelt and his amethyst blade moved down above each of her shoulders. With one quick stroke he sliced off her braid. “By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, 

Depa Billaba, you may rise.”

And like that she was no longer his Padawan.

…

“ RISE JEDI KNIGHT! ”

The old padawan bond snapped.

His eyes shot open and the force shuddered. Depa! ’ His padawan, his little girl, was gone. The child he had saved, he couldn’t save again. 

Mace took a shaky breath. 

Then the force screamed and thousands of lights in the force went dead. It was blinding. And Mace Windu, General of the Republic, once Grand Master of the Jedi, wept. In agony he felt their deaths, in pain he felt his wounds, and in solitude he felt so alone. The galaxy drowned in darkness.

…

When Mace opened his eyes for the second time all was drowned in quiet. Waves of past death radiated from the direction of the temple whispering too late, too late… Who could have done this? he thought. The force felt raw like an open wound. But still Mace opened himself further, he was a Jedi Master and his people would know he was with them. It didn’t matter that his mind and body might break from the effort. 

The Jedi lay in a broken heap in a lower level residential trash pyre. After many moments in the oil slick pyre he began to feel his wounds. Broken bones, burns, nerve damage, dulled senses… it was nothing compared to the screams and cries he felt ripping through the fabric of the universe. 

Mace moved to get up, his legs were the least damaged of his limbs, the impact had been distributed by the way he landed with most of it absorbed by a roll, allowing him to rise to his feet. Mace stumbled and reached for the wall to balance himself, only to find he was missing a hand. 

He hit the ground hard, landing head first into duracrete. 

He let out a muffled yell and used his good arm to wrench himself up. To solve his struggle of walking he pulled a piece of metal from the garbage pile, giving him a walking stick to lean on. Master Yoda was right about getting old. Mace felt around the clammy metal for a grip; what he would give for Master Yoda’s gimmer stick. Was Master Yoda even alive? He couldn’t tell. 

With much of his upper clothing torn and burned away, Mace rooted through the trash again and found a foul smelling robe stained with trash burning oil. It fit well enough and its hood obscured his face. 

Then his trek began. It would take almost an hour to reach a main thoroughfare. He hobbled and wobbled as fast as he could manage, guided by the force down the quickest path. Through alleyways, cantinas, roofs, shady spice dens, and a massive rainwater reservoir which served to clean his wounds and dull the smell of his clothes and burnt skin.

All the way the force cloaked his presence and his smell discouraged anyone sharp enough to take notice. The dark side blazed in the night and from a rooftop he saw pillars of smoke from the direction of the temple. Again he asked himself, who could have done this?  What force had ravaged through the temple on the Sith’s command. In the back of his mind he knew. The thought seemed too painful but Mace pressed on, following the guidance of the force and the sound of heavy underworld traffic, straight into a patrol of shock troopers.

He opened his mouth ready to ask for a speeder or transport then stopped, Mace ducked his head and turned away. There was only one army on Coruscant capable of taking the Jedi by surprise.

“Sir” one of them grabbed him, a heavy hand on his shoulder. Mace panicked and turned around slowly, keeping his face obscured. The clone reached for something around his belt and Mace tensed for a fight but the trooper only pulled out a handheld holoprojector. There was no hostility from him, just the usual underworld wariness.

“Have you seen this Jedi?” The holoprojector lit up revealing a projection of Mace Windu, Jedi Master, with a million credit bounty beneath his name. His answer was proved right, of course the Clones were against him. The Clones served the Republic and Palpatine was, effectively, the senate.

His question was answered by the Trooper’s action, the Clones attacked the temple. Mace looked down at his boots, he couldn’t fight but his rage at this outcome felt like a blazing inferno. “Noh…” his voice was so raspy and broken it sounded inhuman. 

The clone pulled off his hood. Mace wanted to rip and tear and kill this man to make him suffer for the deaths he felt now. The inferno promised him the strength to lash out, it whispered and hissed power. Mace was shaking now. Only stayed by the voice of wisdom which wanted to drive that rage towards saving his family, his clan, his people.

“Got anything!” Another clone called over.

“No just some humanoid.” 

“Then move it trooper!” The officer called,  “We don’t have time to scan every life form, squads four and two need support enforcing the quarantine.”

So that’s what they were calling their search curfew. The clone moved on and Mace pulled his hood up. 

As he limped, the Jedi caught his reflection in a puddle of filth, it was unrecognisable. Swollen, scarred and burnt he barely looked human, much less a Jedi master.  

Still the force guided him elsewhere down the thoroughfare to the fastest way back to the temple. An automated military garage of Coruscant police speeders, all equipped with force locks. Locks that gave him complete legal access to any such vehicle or building.

Mace unlocked the garage gate with a wave of his stump, disabling the droid security, and hobbled towards a Rapid Response speeder. Speeding into the night, he gunned his way down military speeder lanes. 

With one hand Mace flew, reckless like a podracer, directly to the temple. Kilometres away Mace watched the temple fires begin to smoulder. It was over before he arrived, the lurch of death slowed to a trickle. When Mace landed on the temple roof he could feel it was done. Only one light blazed in the temple heart, one only of terrible need and anguish. Skywalker. 

…

Sidious entered the temple mentally preparing his speech. Traitorous Jedi, scarred and deformed, first galactic empire. It all seemed so worth it now. The Sith Lord admired the statues scorched and melted by blaster fire. 

The waiting had been agonising but fun at moments. So many beings to twist and dominate. But his endless patience was finally rewarded with a bloodletting of glorious proportions. The haughty Jedi crushed underfoot like roaches. No other Sith could claim such an achievement. 

Sidious poked at a dead Jedi child with a grin. At least they didn’t breed. 

The blueprint had been there of course, laid out by his Baneonite predecessors. But it was Palpatine who achieved it. He ironed out the hiccups in the plan, HE trained two apprentices, HE got elected Supreme Chancellor, cavorted, recruited and deceived. Truly Plagueis would be proud, if he could find the strength to rise from the ground. Palpatine chuckled. 

He entered the cavernous halls of the Room of One Thousand Fountains, a seven-story greenhouse of light and life. First shown to the Supreme Chancellor as a rare treat when he was allowed to visit young Skywalker. Now on his stroll he stepped over the bodies of Jedi sinking in the soil. He even found Jedi Battlemaster Cin Drallig half consumed by a carnivorous plant, Savaa he thought. Sidious took a moment to watch it and appreciate the beauty.

A Jedi master marred by lightsaber wounds, enveloped by an angry tentacle flower. The vines swaddled the Battlemaster in a chokehold of bloody viscera, burrowing into his skin and creating a violent slow feeding frenzy of flesh eating vines. It was true art.

He’d have to rewatch the battle footage.

Skywalker approached from the nearby hallways and knelt, eyes darting from Drallig to Sidious. He was clearly distraught seeing the bodies he’d made. The boy reverberated with despair, and sadness. However, more than anything he coveted Sidious’ secrets. 

Still… Palpatine could tell he had been crying. His apprentice’s eyes were puffy red. Concerned, he skimmed Vader’s mind. It ran only with thoughts of Padmé. Good. A distraction was good for a Sith’s first true extinction.

The Sith Master tried to look less like he was enjoying the sights. “Rise my Apprentice.” He gestured for Anakin to stand and walked for the exit “we will speak elsewhere.” 

He let Anakin leave ahead of him then turned, looking over the centre of Jedi peace and calm full of every colour imaginable and form of life possible.

Sidious was not one for hedonism but to indulge just once… he beckoned a nearby trooper over. “Burn it.” He spat.

“Yes sir.”

They gathered flamethrowers and cutters and Palpatine mulled over the waste. But when they began it smelled divine, and that made it all worth it. After a moment of indulgence he left to find his apprentice. 

… 

Mace beelined his way through the Temple over what felt like an endless carpet of corpses, clones and Jedi alike. Dark tendrils slithered through the temple searching for survivors and when it came close he used Vapaad to hide. Turning the darkness back onto itself so he could hide in its reflection. The technique was unrefined but the cloud of the dark side was so thick it worked.

First he made his way to the halls of healing, no door in the temple was locked for him so he moved freely, snatching stimulants and pain suppressors to keep himself moving. Not too many, not too few, he thought, counting the pills he took. With the drugs came the usual slurring effect on his force connection so he sharpened his focus, his movements were awkward enough using only one hand.

He left the Halls of Healing with a large sackcloth bag. The troopers were becoming more frequent now, reinforcements flooding through the halls of the temple securing every room, bolt hole and exit. Mace avoided them by expanding his senses, close enough to avoid Sith detection but far enough to see every patrol coming his way. 

Near the archives he took a set of turns that spiralled into the archival balconies. Bodies. everywhere there were bodies. They littered the floors of the great library from the littlest Padawan to the oldest Master. Mace struggled to feel more sorrow. The remnants of our last stand, he thought. 

From his vantage point Mace watched a trooper team enter and begin to hack at the holocron vault doors, the only living beings in a sea of corpses.

Their work made his more urgent. He found a terminal and using his access codes Mace pulled everything on the Sith Lord investigation. He would have his proof. From there Mace wove his way downwards, through obscure corridors stuffing his bag with surviving Jedi tomes, most were scorched with lightsaber damage; the last work of his doomed people keeping their knowledge from Sith hands. 

Two levels above the Clone breaching team he turned and passed through a set of concealed passageways; each equipped with a taxing force lock. The last challenged his concentration but then he was there, inside the vault. 

Mace lit the darkened room with a glowrod, the Holocron shelves were ravaged by a thousand saber cuts.

“Master?” the voice rang out faintly from behind him.

Mace turned, taking in the battered Padawan’s appearance. She was propped against a wall clutching her belly with one arm and her lightsaber with the other. 

“Oh Padawan…”

“Bene, I’m Bene” Her words were urgent but her breath was shaky “Master you must know! Skywalker he… he…” 

Mace knelt next to her “I know Bene.” His words were gentle, " Please move your arm.” 

She moved it with his help revealing a violent gash. “Knight Skywalker he… he did this.” she wheezed. 

“Stay with me Bene.” Mace cursed inwardly, the wound would kill her.

“Master, I don't want to die.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“It will be fine Bene.” he soothed “Please, call me Mace.” Rummaging through his bag he found a painkiller injection. 

She dropped the honorific “Why is this happening Mace?” 

Tears welled up in his eyes “I failed Bene, I’m sorry.”

Her next words were unintelligible, like quiet prayers. 

He administered the painkiller “You’ll feel a little prick Bene nothing to worry about.” Her eyes fluttered “Bene? Can you hear me?”

“Bene?” 

Her eyes fluttered open, desperate “Please Mace, destroy the rest.”  She pressed her lightsaber into his hand. “Finish my task…” 

“I will Bene, I will.” He swore. 

She smiled and her grip loosened. 

“Bene?” He felt for her in the force. 

She was gone. And he was alone again. Too late, too late,  his heart whispered. Mace closed her eyes. 

He examined her blade, it was a classical construction, hefty, with complex silver accents and grey-white plating. Beautiful. The Jedi master rose and Ignited the blade, bathing the room in pale yellow light, its hum sang sorrowfully.

Mace found the few surviving holocrons easily and transferred them to his bag . I am sorry Bene, I cannot finish your task. Then he brought up the blade and reduced the shelf to slag like the rest. 

Conscious of the clone team outside Mace left the way he came, sparing a pained glance towards Bene. 

Exhausted but not done, Mace accessed the master record from Jocasta’s office, wiping the master list of living… once living Jedi. 

Leaving the archive, Mace found his way to an unguarded auxiliary security office and took the night's surveillance footage. The galaxy would know how the Jedi died. His eyes flicked to movement on one of the monitors. Palpatine was here! Before the robed Sith Lord knelt Skywalker. Mace focused intently on the recording. 

“You have done well my new apprentice.” Palpatine’s voice spoke with corrupted glee “Now Lord Vader go and bring peace to the empire.” 

Anakin left the recording and Palpatine after him. 

Vader!  His heart raged, Anakin was now a Sith. In that moment he wanted to embrace the darkness and kill them both now. Mace put aside his fury and copied the recording. Anakin would be tried for his crimes, justice would be done, he would see to it. 

From the office he descended into the temple depths, towards a small auxiliary lift. Then from there Mace fled out of the temple roots and into the wormways of coruscant. 

…

Dexter Jettster watched the temple burn from his diner window. He closed as soon as word came in that something was going down. Thousands of thoughts raced through the Besalisk’s’s mind, none more pressing than worry. Worry for Kenobi, worry for his friends, and worry for himself. His contacts had reported Clones marching on the temple, If that was true he was next as a Jedi associate. 

The door buzzed. Then again. Then again. 

Dex adjusted his pants drawing three blaster pistols. ”Yeah, Yeah, I’m coming!” he yelled with seeming calm. Dex checked the door monitor with his fourth hand, a single hooded figure waited outside, swaying. 

He might as well get this over with. Opening the door the hooded figure ran straight into him, almost bowling Dex over. Almost. Dex grabbed the figure with his open hand and tore his hood aside. 

“Windu?” he spat flabbergasted.

“Citizen Jettster!” the voice was panicked and rushed but attempted dignity “I require shelter, we’ve met once through Master Kenobi. You are a friend of his?” His last words were erratic. 

“You’re a friend of Kenobi, you're a friend ‘o’ mine.” Dex reassured, confused. “What happened at the Temple?”

At his words of reassurance the Jedi master’s face calmed and lost most of its hardness. “I.” Windu’s face contorted with pain, anger and exhaustion, then his eyes rolled back and the human collapsed in his arms. 

Chapter Text

“I need a doctor.”

“Good luck with that Dexter.” Dannl muttered. The middle aged con artist finished up his uniform polish. 

“Good to see you too Faytonni.” Dex said, fixing his coat absentmindedly. 

The human’s eyes rolled “Don’t even try to turn on the charm, not for me.” 

“Right then.” Dex’s expression solidified "I need you to get me a doctor.” 

The human’s mouth twitched in annoyance, “How? I’m guessing since you’re coming to me you need someone under the table, but I can’t get you anyone.” Dannl looked him in the eye  “Ever since the War, Coruscant’s nationalised medical care and forced everyone else underground. And those undercity labs are…” He shuddered. “sketchy.”

The Besalisk slouched, his eyes had to be broadcasting his worry, “I can’t move my patient, they’re in critical condition.”

“Then you’re out of luck Dexter. I. Can’t. Find. You. A. Doctor.” Dannl turned away from him. 

“That won’t be necessary Dannl,” he rumbled. “I already have a doctor, I just need you to bring them to me.” 

The con man turned back, face refreshed with a winning smile, “Then where are they? And how much are you offering?”

Dex held up two fingers on two separate hands, “Twenty thousand for the pickup, another twenty thousand upfront.” 

Dannl’s lips downturned. “That’s too much for a simple pickup. Where is this doctor?”

The Besalisk smiled an innocent smile. “The Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center.”

“No.” The human’s voice was unflinching. “No. I'm not going back to that blockhouse.” 

“Hear me out,” Dex pleaded. “The clones are spread out across the planet. The RJC’s got very few guards. I’ve got access codes, transportation, documents… Everything. All’s I need is you, your partner and your skills.”

“You’re crazy.” Dannl snipped, “There’s no way in hell I’ll take this job.” 

He met Dannl’s eyes “After every favour I've done for you? You will do this job. It’ll make us square.”

“No.” Dannl replied “We’re too old for this. I’ll pay my debts some other way.”

Dexter sighed, I didn’t want to go this far Dannl. he moved to walk out the door then turned thoughtfully, “Maybe Achk will do this alone then.”

The con man laughed nervously. “And how will he do that if I don’t tell him about the job?”

Dex folded his arms. “Unlike you, Achk Med-Beq pays his debts of gratitude.”

Dannl paled and drew his blaster. “Schutta!” He spat. “How’d you get to him!” 

The Besalisk fiddled with his hidden blaster “He gave me his comm code weeks ago, the three of us…” Dex spread two of his arms jovially, “We're friends after all!”

“Then you’re taking advantage of him!” Faytonni protested.

“Are you in?” Dex asked, aiming his concealed blaster centre mass.

Dannl kicked his desk. “You’ll get him killed!”

“Then protect him.” Dex scowled, a mean feat for his jovial face. “Are. You. In?”

“Dammit, fine,” Dannl caved. “But I’m not letting him out of my sight.”

Dex beamed “That’s all you had to say buddy!” He spread all four arms out for a hug “Now get that blaster outta my face and get in here!” 

…

As the gunship rattled through the police skylane, sunlight peeking through its troop bay doors, Dex watched Dannl adjust Achk’s armour nervously. The two of them complimented each other in the opposite sort of way. One was shorter, the other taller, one was darker skinned the other paler. Their mouths moved silently in rushed conversation, the shorter Dannl with a furrowed brow and the taller Achk with a calm smile. Dex adjusted his grip on the controls, he hoped they would get away with this, elsewise his reassurances would mean nothing. 

The police gunship was nothing to scoff at; it was fast moving, with twin blaster cannons and a twin seated cockpit. Dex was seated above HELIOS-3E in the pilot seat. Using Mace’s codes they had taken the ship easily from an automated lot and were barreling towards Republic Judiciary Central, he only hoped their transfer request got them in. 

Dex let his gaze turn towards HELIOS-3E below him in the gunner seat. The droid was an IG-86 model assassin droid who’d been sold to him by a brightly coloured Patrolian bounty hunter two years back. All in all 3E was a curious droid, having been active for more than 5 years its brain unwiped; it showed a measure of fear many droids lacked. But still, 3E had proved its mettle with a wealth of experience. The droid brain improved on its base programming through years of doing. 

The mushroom shaped tower of the prison came into view on the early morning horizon. Dex turned to the troop bay. “Helmets on boys we’re coming in.”

Achk threw him a thumbs up, “Gotcha Dex!” 

“This is a terrible idea!” Dannl shouted over the hum of the engines and traffic. 

“Relax love!” Achk placed a kiss on the shorter human’s brow before donning the helm of an Underworld Policeman. 

“The things I do for you…” Dannl’s face took on a tight smile before being obscured by his police mask. 

The gunship set into a tight turn commanded by the autopilot, corkscrewing out of traffic and beneath the metal umbrella of the prison’s superstructure.

Dex pushed his way into the troop bay, leaving 3E to pilot. The bartender adjusted his uniform and addressed his con artist escort with a level voice. “May the force be with us.” 

… 

The landing pad was a thick slab of duracrete that jutted out from a hanging tower. Dex had chosen it for its discreteness and its proximity to the protected custody wing. 

Before he could make his entrance, Dannl and Achk made a show of securing the landing pad. Steering clear of the shock trooper pair on duty. While they worked their magic Dex opened the concealed door opposite the pad and let 3E swing over the side. The droid had a separate mission.

When the con artist performance was done Achk signalled to him. Dex readjusted and the left bay door swung open for the second time. He stepped onto the landing pad giving every step he took the official weight of an officer. After all, the Republic Intel uniform lent his stature credence. 

A clone officer emerged from the building doors to meet him halfway. Dex looked the clone up and down. The man looked drained. The bags under his eyes communicated stress and exhaustion but oddly he stood straight. Even his movements were rigid. When Dex met the clone’s gaze an uncomfortable feeling overcame him. The human’s eyes were hollow, emotionless and so very dead looking. It was as if his soul was far away from his body. 

“Agent Haken, on time, as expected.” The clone’s monotone voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Present identification.”

“Of course.” Dex reassured the officer, passing a code cylinder for him to run through his datapad. 

The questioning began as the data processed, “Reason for visit?” 

“Prisoner transfer.” Dex kept a professional tone, the transfer was commanded hours before through secure military channels, courtesy of Mace. The officer was just testing him, “There are too many threats to the Doctor’s life, he has valuable research for the republic.”

Dex felt the officer’s distant gaze lock onto him, so he shifted his stance confidently. Dexter knew he was a portly individual and an alien besides, an unexpected look for any republic officer, but not for an Intel officer. Their uniform made the unexpected expected. 

“Where is the prisoner being transferred?” 

“That’s on a need to know basis.”

The datapad made a chiming sound. “Your codes are clear.” The officer announced. He produced a comlink from his pocket flicking it on. “Bring out the package.”

The building doors hissed open and out walked a gangly Faust in an orange prison jumper. He was flanked by one trooper and wore a pair of heavy stun cuffs. Security seemed too minimal, even for the overtaxed clones. He filed the thought away.

Dex addressed the Doctor as he walked by. “Dr Nuvo Vindi I presume.”

The Faust’s face lit up “Yea-yea-yea-yea-yea-yea-yea-yes!” His basic was heavily accented “Finally somevone recognizes my proper title.” Dex felt discomfort at the doctor’s approval, this was the madman who had tried to poison Naboo with the blue shadow virus. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he was a highly qualified physician with dozens of degrees including biomechanics, epidemiology and more importantly emergency medicine. If anyone could heal Mace it would be him.

A rifle butt slammed into the doctor’s chest. “Shut it.” The trooper escorting Vindi passed the winded Faust to Dannl and he wrestled Vindi into the gunship at gunpoint.

Dex took his code cylinder back from the officer, then took on a chastising tone. “Security’s looking scarce, why’s that lieutenant?” The clone’s face tightened and Dex felt Achk sidle closer protectively. 

The officer lowered his datapad warily, enough fear of his superiors remained in the man’s cold eyes. “There’s a prisoner transfer on level 400, maximum security.”

Dex waved Achk off with a hidden hand signal. There’s the spineless response I was hoping for,  he thought. Now why doesn't this sit well with me? “Who’s being moved?” he asked.

“That’s need to know sir, maximum security” the clone replied.

“Very well, lieutenant, we'll be on our way then.” The two parties separated, Dex and Achk boarded the gunship as the clones reentered their prison, 

“Lock him down.” Dexter motioned Dan and Achk towards the back of the craft where Vindi’s binders could be secured to the hull. A beeping on his comlink got him to peer over the side. 3E was done and the droid appeared within seconds, clambering over the side, rifle underslung.

Dex pulled HELIOS aside. “You got it?” Hopefully the droid had stolen all the data he needed about the prison, Dex had friends on the inside he wanted to check on but they could wait.

A cold nod from the droid told him everything. “Then give me all the info you took on prisoners on level 400, maximum security.”

3E’s voice was curt, 

“LEVEL 400 MAXIMUM SECURITY: One prisoner 

PRISONER: Jedi Padawan Barriss Offee 

CRIME: Terrorism 

TRANSFER TO: Nur ”

Dex was shocked. How hadn’t he remembered Barriss? He’d watched her trial live in disbelief that a Jedi could be so cruel, then remembered Dooku. Jedi weren’t perfect. He thought of the burning temple. Barriss was still a Jedi. Still just a kid. How could he save her? Dex thought quickly, and passed a satchel to 3E along with whispered instructions. The droid goes over the side once again. His con artists would not like what he wanted from them.

“Dan! Achk!” Dex barked, “We have more to do.”

The two helmeted men looked over to him. “What?” they said in unison, voice scramblers creating a discordant chorus.

“There’s another Prisoner we have to get. We’re going in hot. I'll give the both of you one hundred thousand more for your trouble.” Dex waited for the reaction.

Dannl threw off his helmet and exploded “WE ARE NOT SOLDIERS! I knew this would happen! You always want more, more, more!”

Achk took off his helmet and shushed Dan, he turned to Dex “You know we can’t do it, even for a hundred thousand. If we do…” his face was painted “Dex we’ll all die fighting here.” 

The Besalisk’s face hardened, I’m taking it too far. Another voice in his head whispered, not far enough for your friends, the Jedi. “Do you know who my employer is?” He threatened “Jedi Master Mace Windu. The prisoner up there is a Jedi. If you two don’t do this he’ll hunt you down, the both of ya. We’re doing this whether you like it or not. I’ve already sent 3E. Take the credits, after this you can live comfortably like the two of yous have always wanted.”

Dannl’s face embodied fury, Achk just looked hurt. The con artists exchanged tender whispers. Dannl turned to him and Achk turned away. 

The shorter man spat spite, “We’ll do it.” He laughed manically “You’ve got us again!”

A confused voice spoke up from behind the con-artists “Ummm, Vhat is going on?”

Dannl turned to the doctor with crazed eyes “You caught us! We’re not republic intel! We just needed you. You’ve one last job Doctor! Then you’re a free man!” Dan chuckled madly “Just. Like. Us.” 

Chapter Text

Barriss counted her steps, but every movement was a struggle. They had injected her with some kind of sedative or paralytic, probably tranqarest or something the old healers had marked down as dangerous for Jedi. It made her thoughts slippery.

The force had been ripped open the day before and still felt like a gaping wound. The drugs had made her grip on reality tenuous but the force wasn’t affected by that, only her connection. Before the drugs something had happened, something that hurt. A thing that made her feel like curling up into a ball or retreating into the deepest recesses of her mind. Barriss had wept at a horror she didn’t understand. 

The dark side? She’d thought in disbelief. Now she was more inclined to believe. The whispers of darkness had intensified when she attacked the temple, this felt like that but stronger. It was like… the absence of light.

‘ Death’  another part of her mind hissed. 

Stop thinking, Barriss, she thought. In the cell she had time to think, outside of the cell it was time for action. She could ponder later. Barriss rendered what little attention she could away from the guards who held her arms and towards the front of her escort column. Two beings led the way: Sly Moore, the Chancellor’s Umbaran chief of staff and a Clone Commander in red armour, Thire was it?

She strained to hear their conversation. 

“...transfer to Nur, we’re having a compound built there. It will house the swords of our new Empire once completed.”

“Ma’am I was asked to see to the prisoner personally.”

“As was I.” The Umbaran’s haunting eyes glanced back towards her. “Our Emperor will be making his address soon…” 

Emperor? She chastised herself, No. focus Barriss.’ 

The pale woman finished “...You will accompany the prisoner to Nur. I will be along after shortly. Our Emperor has foreseen the construction of this fortress and wishes me to oversee…” 

“WHOOOSSHHHH!” Moore’s words were cut off by the noise of wind gushing through the blast doors. Barriss squinted at the sunlight. Any conversation she might have recaptured in the quiet halls was quickly drowned in the sounds of engines. Still though, the morning cold was made easier by her permitted black attire, there was that to be thankful for. 

Barriss blinked through the morning glare and opened her groggy eyes. The deck was flanked by two large cannons with the rest of it occupied by V-wing starfighters and a single shuttle, probably for her. Otherwise, there were clones everywhere she looked, all armed in full combat gear. It was probably time to give up any idea of escape, just like she had in her ascetic cell allowed for ex-Jedi.

She was jostled towards the shuttle, defeated. 

Then her heavy eyes spotted something. It was blurry and moved like a bug clambering over the ships. Something tingled in the back of her brain, MOVE!

Barriss’ muscles lit on fire as she lunged away from her guards, catching them by surprise. “KKHOOOM” Every ship on the landing pad erupted in a cloud of detonations spitting fire everywhere. The shuttle's wing, mangled by the explosion, groaned and dragged the ship over the edge of the platform. 

Barriss looked up from her landing spot and thought she must be hallucinating. Everywhere it was an inferno. The sound of exchanging blasterfire crescendoed and the screams of the dying outpreforming those of the living. 

“Assassin droid!” A clone yelled before being shot in the neck. 

“Shoot to stun! I want her alive!” Sly Moore screamed as she was hustled to safety. 

The assassin droid danced across the hulks of dead starfighters, cloaked by fire and smoke, periodically firing as if to cage the clones to one side of the platform. 

After what felt like hours, the clone commander brought order to the chaotic fight, pulling together his forces and directing a sporadic, “fire and advance” towards the unknown assailant.

Barriss felt bolted to the ground, the heavier drugs seemed to be taking effect. She wanted to just sleep but the heat and sound kept her awake and watching .

The now surely doomed droid, had taken a few blaster hits and was slowing down, cornered on the edge of the landing pad.

Suddenly, the darkened landing pad was illuminated by red light. Cannonfire blazed and half of the clones fell where they stood. A gunship appeared out of the smoke, its floodlights batting aside the darkness. 

It hovered menacingly before firing again, and again, peppering the landing pad with annihilation.

“Fall back! Fall back!” Screamed the clone commander as blasterfire ripped through his formation.

Heh, Barriss thought. The drugs were getting to her now, she could no longer move anything. The Mirialan accepted that the landing pad would be her grave. It was a comforting thought to know the end was near, it meant less thinking about her actions, how to escape, what to do, her life, it could all just be over. She closed her eyes and the noise from the battle faded into the background.

“Come with us if you want to live.” A horribly distorted voice made Barriss open her eyes, her gaze was greeted by the glowing mechanical eyes of an Underworld policeman. 

What, she thought.

Another cowled assailant pulled her up and addressed the other. “No time for explanations! Let’s go!”

She was manhandled into a carrying position and virtually dragged across the platform towards waiting climbing lines that led to… her gaze wandered upwards… to the gunship. A belt was fastened around her waist and she was clipped to a line.

The line started to retract with a hiss but was overpowered by a powerful mechanical groaning. 

“They’re getting the guns online!” She heard faintly as blasterfire resumed. Her head hit the lip of the gunship and her vision shook. Blurry red figures scurried around the landing pad towards her would be rescuers in yellow armour.

The last thing she saw was an exchange of blaster fire and pistol fire before she was heaved into the craft by powerful arms. 

…

Dex was having a stressful day, first the Jedi at his door, then the need for a Doctor, then  destroying his pocketbook, having to wine and dine Dan and Achk and now attacking a republic facility. 

He fired another volley into the landing pad. The comms crackled to life “We’ve got her Dex.” The Besalisk looked into the troop bay to see Vindi fussing over an unconscious Mirialan that had to be Offee. A loud mechanical sound drowned out his victory cry.

“ They’re getting the guns online! ” Achk shouted to him through the comm. 

Dex began to pull the gunship away from the platform.  “ All aboard for departures. Confirm .”

The comm buzzed  “ Here .” Dannl said.

“ Here .” called Achk.

3E’s vocoder crackled “STATUS: Aboard ”

Dex gunned the ship’s engines. The clones were beginning to swarm and looked to be readying grappling cables.

“ACHK!” Dex looked back towards the screaming man. Achk had lost his footing and was holding onto Dan for dear life.

“Hold on!” Dex closed the opposite door and banked the gunship, throwing everyone back aboard and turning wildly away from the prison. A dragging force made the gunship unsteady. He toggled the engines putting distance between them and the superstructure’s weapons.

After a long few minutes he disappeared into Coruscanti traffic and called the damaged 3E over to the cockpit. “You fly while I check on our crew,” he said. “Also There’s some drag on one of the repulsors, compensate for that.” 

The businessman turned and sidled into the troop bay. Dan and Achk looked caught in an embrace, Dr. Vindi was pulling an unconscious Barriss into a sitting position.

“Are you all okay?” Dex asked.

“We will be,” replied Achk, cradling Dannl like a frightened Tooka. The taller man whispered comfortingly to his terrified partner. 

“My patient is fine,” muttered the doctor, preoccupied. He began to speak to no one but himself “Lecepanine and tranqarest. So that’s how they kept you passive for transport.” Vindi set aside his testing kit. “This combination of stimulants should work.” The doctor produced a needle from nowhere and injected the sleeping Jedi.

Barriss awoke with a gasp as if all the life was reentering her body. “Where am I!”

Dex moved non threateningly. “With friends.”

“And enemies?” Barriss recoiled from the separatist doctor warily.

Dex chortled, “I suppose so my Jedi friend.”

“I don’t know you.” She nodded to him, cautiously. “Friend.”

“I’m Dexter” he introduced “I know you, though you may not remember me. Ahsoka took you to my diner once.” Her eyes filled with something resembling recognition. Dex continued “It seems you already know our other jailbird.” He gestured to Nuvo Vindi. “We’re rescuing you both on behalf of one of your… colleagues.”

“Why?” Barriss asked, “I’m a criminal and a traitor.”

“We can all earn forgiveness.” Dex said, placatingly. “When you bombed the temple. It was a political action. You saw something wrong with your people and tried to make change. Misguided as it was…”

“I was not misguided.” She argued, “My actions were my own. What's the real reason?”

He sighed. “There aren't many of you Jedi left. You were in danger. We came to rescue you.”

Barriss’ hostility collapsed into confused desperation. “What do you mean? What happened? Why can't I sense anyone anymore? There has to be something wrong with me, right!” her voice became progressively more panicked “Where is everyone!” 

Dex sobered and sat down beside her. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He tried to soften the blow. “The Jedi… they’re gone.”

“No, that's impossible,” the Mirialan hissed, “How could they be gone?”

“The clones,” he said, “they betrayed all of you. A day ago they marched on the temple on the Chancellor’s commands. He was the Sith who controlled the war from the beginning.” 

She looked at him incredulously. “That’s an insane conspiracy? Why would he do that? Why would the clones do that? It makes no sense.”

“There’s proof.” Dex stated. “We just don’t know why the troops went along with it. The facts are undeniable.” He helped her stand and opened a door that had a commanding view of the smouldering temple. “Look for yourself.”

“No.” Barriss sobbed, reaching for the building on the horizon as if to grab it. “No!”

“Careful there.” Dex pulled her away from the door and shut it. The girl leaned on him for support. “Now just breathe. We’ll be safe…” 

“SSSSSKOOOOOOOM!” An explosion rocked the gunship. 

The intercomm buzzed with the sound of HELIOS’ vocoder “SHIP: Damaged STATUS: Crashing . PRIORITY: Crew Safety. INSTRUCTIONS: Brace !”

“Crash positions!” Dex commanded the con men. He grabbed Vindi and Barriss to instruct them. “You two, this is your position.” Then Dex moved to his spot and hunkered down.

Dex watched 3E struggle with the controls as the gunship shuddered and began to lose height. They dropped dangerously through the skylanes bobbing and diving into the warren of coruscanti streets. Each collision was like being put through the ringer. Death could come at any moment. 

Every crewmember braced for death in different ways. Achk and Dan protected each other, while every hit seemed to flow around Barriss but the mad Dr Vindi laughed the whole way down. Dex found himself laughing too at the absurdity of the escapade. I’m a diner owner not a commando!

“STATUS: Landing ” buzzed 3E. The ship lurched and groaned, slamming into different surfaces then with a screech hit the ground. 

Dust and noise filled the troop bay and then there was quiet. The Besalisk found himself thrown clear of the ship. He had felt nothing. T hank goodness for my hardiness, he thought. 

They had set down in an abandoned part of town, safe from prying eyes. Good move 3E.

The wreckage was mostly intact. Dex went about pulling everyone out of the mangled hulk. There were no injuries aside from 3E who was destroyed in the crash (Dex recovered its head) and himself who found out had a broken arm. It was handled quickly by the rattled doctor. Aside from avoiding death, Dex found he was only missing a blaster, it was a good trade.

They combed over the wreckage quietly for their things. A shout emanated from the back of the gunship. “Found our culprit!” 

Achk dragged a half conscious clone commander from the crash site. “Looks as though he hitched a ride with an ascension cable and brought us down.”

“YOU!” Barriss shouted at the clone in anger. “Why? Why would you do this!” She ripped off the man’s helmet. 

Everything about the clone was odd, “Good soldiers follow orders.” The clone’s head bobbed uncomfortably and his eyes rolled around his head. They flicked from one person to the other  as if in a trance. The same phrase repeated like a mantra,“Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders.”

Barriss screamed at the clone in anger until her voice failed. She produced Dex’s pistol from her sleeve and pointed it at the Clone.

Dex pulled the pistol from her grasp. “That’s enough! There will be time enough for vengeance later.” He understood her anger at the clones but was more frustrated with her stealing his blaster. Dex set the weapon to stun and incapacitated the clone. “We will learn why later.” Something was off about the clones and Dex finally had a subject and the medical experts to find out why. 

Barriss stared daggers at the clone.

“Come on. Let’s move before the police respond to the crash.” Dex lifted the clone with his good arms only to find a blaster pistol in his face. “Dannl what are you doing?”

“Money now Dex.” The shorter human gestured to Achk.

A sorry expression played over the other con artist’s face. “Sorry Dex, we need to get out now. We won’t go another step with you.”

“Please. You’ll get your money at the safe house.” You two know too much, he thought. 

“Be honourable Dex.” Achk asked “I’ve honoured my debts, it's time for you to settle yours.”

Dex caved, “The accounts will be in here.” he handed Achk 3E’s head, then a data chip “And here’s the access code for the amount promised. Are you sure you want to leave now? I'm sure our doctors can help with your injuries.”

“We are sure. I want no more part in your crusade.” Dannl began to back away putting on his helmet. 

“Good luck.” Achk darted after his colleague and they both disappeared into an alley.

Dex waved after them feeling grim ‘ Don’t get caught’ he thought ‘ Or we’ll be exposed.’

“Come on.” He gestured to the puzzled doctor and the bitter ex Jedi. “The safe house isn’t far now.”

Chapter Text

In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society.

Dexter watched the Republic wide broadcast with growing dread. He took another shot of  Corellian whiskey.

…

“Master Windu?” Barriss was in shock and it wasn’t Vindi’s adrenaline cocktail. The Korun master occupied a tiny corner of a large suite bed. The symbol of the hierarchical warmongering corruption of her Jedi Order looked so small beneath her. 

She reached out cautiously. He was only faintly visible through the force which either meant Windu was exceedingly skilled at hiding his presence or that he was near death. She guessed the latter and suddenly understood why Dexter Jettster had freed her on his own initiative, not Mace’s commands.

Barriss felt paralyzed around Master Windu. If he could be defeated they were all doomed. What if it were her master? She thought about her old Master, Luminara. Oh no. She hadn’t thought about what happened to Master Luminara. Barriss scrabbled for their old padawan bond in a brief bout of desperation… and found it was still there. Barriss breathed a sigh of desperate relief. She tugged at the bond, no response.

It’s fine. Barriss told herself, Master Luminara might still be alive even if she was unreachable. If distance kept them apart and not death… sShe would find Master Unduli and everything would be fine again…

Or would it? Master Unduli had said nothing the last time they spoke. Barriss had ranted and raved, begged and pleaded but Master Luminara wouldn’t speak. Not to her. Everything was communicated through the look in Luminara’s eyes. At the memory tears welled up in Barriss’ eyes. Threatening to escape... 

A sharp hiss snapped her out of her daze. The doctor entered the room behind her, he wore clean medical smocks and carried all manner of portable medical equipment. Nuvo thumbed the lights and illuminated the darkened room. “Is this the patient?” he asked.

Barriss hesitantly removed Mace’s covers. What she saw was horrifying. The Jedi Master looked mummified by bacta patches. Where amateur's desperate patchwork was broken Mace was scarred head to foot by fractal lightning flower patterns; his skin was charred and scorched by burns, his limbs appeared mangled; even worse where his right arm ended the hand was gone. Barriss swallowed, it was a miracle he was even alive. 

She probed at him with the force. It was worse than it appeared. Beneath the skin there was injury after injury. Countless broken and shattered bones, damaged nerves, ravaged organs and within the Master’s mind reigning turmoil. She responded to the doctor, “Yes… he is.”

Vindi looked over the broken human with a displeased expression “Disappointing how even a strong lifeform can break so easily no?” 

She gave him a look.

He gave her an offended glance in exchange, “I’m making an observation that he can be improved. I'm not a sadist.” Vindi returned to studying his patient.

“Your actions say otherwise.” She shot back.

Nuvo whipped around “Please Jedi! I vant to heal this lifeform. That business with the Blue Shadow Virus…” he said its name wistfully “It proves I want to help not the opposite.”

Barriss scoffed. 

“I seek the perfection of all lifeforms!” He squawked “The Blue Shadow Virus was a superior lifeform unfairly murdered by those who thought they were superior lifeforms!” he became angrier and angrier “Murdered before it could run its proper course! I was passing judgement on the Galaxy for their hubris! Just like what you did to the Jedi with your bombs!” His eyes widened as if catching himself misbehaving and the fire in the doctor’s voice dissipated. “Now you claimed you were a healer, could you please help me? The human needs to be stabilised so we can take him to a superior medical facility.” 

She felt angry and ashamed of his comparison. She wasn’t like this maniac. Barriss was far better than him. How could he talk down to her? She wanted to scream. 

Remember Padawan, we must do our duty above all else, because our duty is to all. We are never above others. Because of this we are not above helping. Not ever. At the old memory a wave of shame overpowered her feelings and she swallowed her anger. She had no right to look down on him, it was her duty to help not hinder the doctor. And maybe… Just maybe, if she helped Master Windu, Luminara would forgive her. Maybe.

“We are nothing alike,” Barriss said, "but we are on the same side.” She rifled through the medical gear, “What do we need?” 

…

After hours of operating they all shoved into a new stolen police speeder and fled the apartment. Dexter flew them deep into the abandoned Coruscant works. Barriss noted that she was kept away from the sedated clone.

The Besalisk brought them to a building that appeared dead but on the inside was very much alive. A prepared medical facility was explained away by Dex with a convenient, “I know people,” as he carried off the clone.

She and Vindi moved Master Windu together. “I’ll prepare the Bacta tank, you prepare the patient.” The doctor left her with the repulsor stretcher. 

Barriss carted Mace to what appeared like a prep area and began the exhaustive task of changing the human without harming him.

“Luminara?” Halfway through removing a bacta patch Barriss stopped and watched as Master Windu’s eyes flickered open.

“Krif.” She prepared another sedative. 

“Luminara is that you?” He began to move and she fumbled with the shot. The human’s brown eyes were cracked by gold coloring. Tears poured from his eyes “Luminara I’m so sorry. I failed. I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t stop Sidious.”  She injected Windu with the sedative.

“Stop calling me that.” she muttered angrily “I’m not her.”

He went on seemingly unaffected, “I couldn’t stop Dooku on Geonosis… I failed to stop the war. I’ve failed us all Luminara.”

Barriss tried to calm him through the force but the rolling turmoil threw her back. 

“Please.” Barriss begged trying another force suggestion, “Sleep.”

Things began to shake around them as Mace tapped back into the force. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Vindi had taken notice, “Do something,” he urged.

“I’m trying!” She replied. The Jedi healer cleared her mind, or tried to. It was enough to dive into Windu’s mind through waves of sorrow, anger and fear and plant a deep force suggestion. “SLEEP.”

The Jedi Master’s body went limp. 

“Get him in quickly.” Vindi leapt over to help her move him. “We’ll put him in a deep healing sleep.”

With considerable effort they manoeuvred Master Windu into the tank. Leaving him suspended safely where he couldn't reach them.

“How are we supposed to fix that?” Barriss gestured towards the floating Korun. “His wounds will heal but… his physiology is damaged.”

“Excellent question.” The Faust looked excited, a bad sign. “Zer is wonderful parasite called the Conduit worm that grew in my prison cell. They feed off electricity and can grow hundreds of metres long, they are very small and they grow along electrical conduits.” 

“Your point?” She asked warily.

“I can catch one. Zen we grow it along his nervous system! The Jedi will be stronger and better than before with full feeling restored. The parasite will bind him back together!”

“That's insane!” Barriss yelled.

“I know!” The doctor squealed. “We can even replace his hand. We don’t have the proper equipment but a droid hand will do just fine. And if we attach it to him with the worm it’ll have an eternal source of power from his body, and he’ll have full feeling in his hand! It will be like the Jedi never lost it!”

“How are we supposed to prevent this parasite from running rampant?” Barriss asked pointedly. You aren’t seriously considering this are you? She thought.

“You will use your force abilities to control the creature's growth!” Vindi exclaimed, “It's not impossible vith your help!” The doctor frowned. “Otherwise I foresee years of disability recovery. No one should survive these injuries.”

Barriss did the mental calculus and came to a generous conclusion: It could work. She breathed in, then out. “Fine. But I am watching, and I decide when we stop.”

Vindi smiled, “Let us begin! I’m sure there are adequate droid hands from vhat remains of the separatist Coruscant strike force.”

…

Days Later…

Sidious stewed in his apartments. There was yet more work to be done but he sat feeling restless, he was still recovering from the ordeal of the past few days. The Jedi as an institution were annihilated, his Empire had been declared unanimously and the war was over! Palpatine should have been rejoicing.

Yet maddeningly, in this fragile moment Yoda and Kenobi had reappeared, mutilated his perfect apprentice and sapped him of his strength. The twin duels on Coruscant and Mustafar displeased him greatly; his apprentice had failed but more importantly he had failed. Yoda escaped and all of his plans for the Hero With No Fear went up in smoke at the stroke of Kenobi’s blade. 

The dark lord of the Sith consoled himself. At least it offered the opportunity for greater control over his apprentice in a body of Sidious’ choosing. Kenobi had given Sidious a boon that way; a blank slate to destroy Anakin and craft Vader. Moreover Amidala had shown up dead in the aftermath. Her control over Vader was lost and her image could be made to suit the Empire. Not to mention having Vader wounded meant not having to deal with a twenty year old child pining for their lost lover. Ugh, Sidious never quite understood that mysterious desire for another being’s companionship. But Palpatine supposed it wasn’t all bad.

Speaking of Vader. He decided to give the boy Mustafar. The hellworld would work well as Vader’s fortress. A constant reminder of Padme’s death, of Kenobi’s victory and of his apprentice's own death and rebirth. It would keep Vader’s emotions fueled. Plus he could give life to an old idea of his and relocate his Inquisitorius Project to the water moon of Nur. They would need a Sith supervisor.

Aside from future plans, thoughts of the Inquisitorius invaded Sidious’ mind. His prize candidate had been stolen alongside some psychotic separatist scientist… and with little evidence left behind it seemed comically nonsensical. All Palpatine could ask himself was Why?

He pondered, Who could have use for a Jedi and a Separatist? The voice of Plagueis, his old master, rang out in Sidious’ mind. Look for the commonalities.

What did they have in common… he cycled through the shorthand of traits the two possessed: J edi, scientist, hero, epidemiologist, madman, madwoman, terrorist? Hmm terrorist. Both were terrorists? Was someone in need of cutthroats? No, he thought, correlation does not make causation.

He thought again, Scientist. Vindi was a Doctor was he not? And Offee she was a Jedi healer. Who could need doctors… A smile played out across Palpatine’s face. Indeed only an injured being could need a doctor and an injured Jedi would need a Jedi doctor. Who was a hurt Jedi trapped on Coruscant… It could only be…

Yoda. Sidious cackled. I believe I've found you, my friend.

Palpatine decided against contacting his apprentice, finding Yoda was no job for Vader. The Sith Lord thumbed his desk and the hologram of a kneeling figure appeared. “Grand Inquisitor,” he deadpanned.

“Your majesty.” The thin Pau’an still wore his Jedi guard uniform, it had been stained by battle and by his betrayal.

“I have new commands for you. Cease your activities in the Jedi archives and go to the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. You will preside over the Offee investigation. I want her found.”

“Yes Master.” The golden eyes of a darksider watched him carefully.

Sidious continued, “An aide will provide the necessary details, you will be rearmed and re-equipped. Find Offee but do not strike. There may be a greater prize behind our target and I do not want them to escape.” He paused. “And Grand Inquisitor?”

The traitor looked beside himself for a split second and spoke slowly, “Yes my lord?” 

“Do keep in mind this is your chance to prove your worth.” The Sith stressed his words. “So long as you are useful, you will be given the knowledge the Jedi kept from you.” What’s left of it that is, Sidious thought bemoaning the destruction of the temple archives .

The fire of desire reignited in the Inquisitor’s eyes. “I will not fail you.”

“See that you don’t.” He extinguished the hologram. 

Darth Sidious bathed in the darkness of his apartments rejuvenated by the new quest. He  reflected upon his duel with the Jedi Grand Master, Yoda… I hurt you more than I realised my little green friend.

…

Chapter Text

“Designed by the Dark Lord of the Sith, this web is,” Yoda said, calmly, as his brainpan was cracked open by an enormous black carrion crow. “For now, play his game we must.”

Mace relived the council meeting. Except all its members were corpses—a feast for a giant bird . Obi-Wan and Anakin called from their mission to Oba Diah and delivered a report. Dooku, under the name Tyrannus, had created the clone army. Then the council, led by Mace, decided to keep it secret, to avoid chaos. His own words.

Mace had missed the shatterpoint in the force. Combined with the incident on Ringo Vinda, where Clone trooper ‘Tup’ CT-5385 had killed Master Tiplar, the evidence was overwhelming. The clones were created by the Sith to destroy the Jedi. The inhibitor chip wasn’t a precaution but a trigger. And it had been pulled.

As Mace’s dream shade spoke, the crow tugged at its eyes— as if to say “See! See! How could you not see?” The Jedi let the force flow through him. Mace was done here, what he needed to see was over. He grasped for awakeness.  

The force slipped away from his grasp and Mace hit the floor hard. Every nerve screamed. Whatever stressors his body was under, Mace couldn’t regain any control.  

So the Jedi Master waited, with time he could awake, Mace knew so. Instead of wasting effort he watched.

The crow pecked at Kit Fisto’s entrails, sending them sloughing to the ground. As council leader I had all the evidence and failed, Mace thought. Knowing now was too late. 

His memories acted out the meeting of ghosts again and again. When the meeting finished his world distorted and the crow came back to feast. On the eleventh replay he knew every council member’s lines down to the inflection.

By the fifteenth, he was reciting with them. 

On the thirtieth replay of the council meeting, Mace threw up his hands and sat next to his shade humming quietly The Death of the Soammei . 

On the fortieth, he spoke the truth to his eyeless shade, hoping, somehow he could reach back to the moment. 

By the fiftieth, Mace could no longer control his breathing. The bird circled him waiting for him to die so that it could feast. Its eyes were sickly gold, its feathers black as shadow.

On the seventieth Mace stared out the window at nonexistent Coruscanti traffic trying desperately to tune out his fellow council members.

By the hundred and eighty second Mace lost track.

So he waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

Until…

The vision cracked and wavered, his imagination entirely distorted. Mace fell down and down. Then he had a second of control, reality flipped and Mace fell upward. The Jedi Master grabbed at consciousness.. and entered his body.

His eyes fluttered awake, greeted by light and…  “Luminara?” His voice crackled and popped. The green figure shuddered and wavered. Ghosts, Mace thought, more ghosts. Even his mind was failing him. Mace was failing. FAILING. He reached for the force…

The darkness bounded to his call. Mace recoiled but it was onto him like sticky tar, he wrenched at the darkness but it wouldn’t let go. Mace blabbered at the ghost. He needed to escape. He needed to get away from it. The force shuddered.

SLEEP

His mind fought but the body obeyed. Everything was pulled into darkness. 

…

Master Windu recovered from his injuries in a fashion that could only be called brutal. The worm burrowed under his skin knitting together torn ligaments, reviving burnt nerves and twisting bones back into the correct shape. 

His hair was regrowing in sandblasted white clumps, stimulated and growing faster than hair should grow. As his wounds began to close and Mace Windu began to look… hale. Where the stump once was they’d found a magnaguard hand, filed off the second thumb and grafted it on. Barris felt sick when the worm, attracted to the latent power, burst out of the sealed stump to slither into the prosthetic. 

Against all her best instincts Barriss used the force to guide the parasite deeper beneath his skin. When he wakes up, she thought, what will I tell him?

…

Mace Windu opened his eyes on a medical table of soft bedding. He felt strong again. When Mace looked his wounds were closed, and he could move. Mace sat up, he was in a small boxy room. When he moved his limbs felt… slippery. It felt like there were snakes under his skin, moving. Something was wrong, he stretched his fingers— why do I have a right hand? 

The hand was covered with a thick black glove that reached up his forearm. Mace used his real hand to peel it back, filling the room with the thick sterile scent of bacta gel. He continued, peeling off the rubber turning it inside out— like a flayed animal—  to reveal skeletal metal beneath. It was laced with something organic? 

The door slid open, his eyes snapped up. And Dexter Jettster, a being who deserved every medal he’d ever earned, stepped through. All other thoughts left him. “Dexter. The clones have a chip in their brain. It was supposedly to prevent the Clones from being overly independent and aggressive—”

“—but it was actually meant to kill the Jedi?”

“Yes.” Mace hung his head. “How did you know?” 

“I guessed.” The Besalisk shrugged. “With what we know now, plus the files you gave me… Mace, I can put two and two together. Sith created the clones and made the biochips. And since we captured a clone I had the good doctor extract his chip. It’s real. We’re transcribing the inscribed orders now.”

Mace frowned. “Who is we?” 

“Your doctors.” 

 
At that moment a traitor and a war criminal stepped into his room. 

“Barriss?” 

“Master.” The room froze. 

Mace moved his attention. “Vindi.”

“Doctor. But, Yea-yea-yea-yes! It is I who has perfected you!” He approached Mace, with a large needle.

Mace used the force and ripped it from his grasp. Instinctively he used his right. The tube slapped into the metal hand then crushed with the squealing of servomotors. Vindi hopped away, scared. Mace got the feeling again. Instinctively he wanted to rip off his skin. There was something inside! Instead he controlled himself. “What is this?”

“Mace,” Dexter started. “This is the doctor I could free,” he gestured to Vindi. “And this is the doctor I found along the way. I know there are disagreements here—” 

“—disagreements?” Mace deadpanned, “she bombed the Jedi temple. And he,” Mace used his good hand, “Is a war criminal of the highest order.” 

“But they’re both doctors.” Dexter said, “And she’s a Jedi.” 

“My name is Barriss.” Barriss stepped forward. 

Mace gave her a cold look. 

“Don’t give me that!” She met his gaze with fire. “I am still a Jedi. I acted against a system of power that corrupted our values, tied us to a republic and made us fight a war. I became a criminal on those battlefields. A trained Jedi healer standing by watching sentients die to stop a handful of planets that wanted to be free. I complained but no one heard. I spoke and one listened! So I acted. Your council could only hear war so I made war! Now I learn we were fighting for a Sith. I was right you would lead us to ruin! And now we’re all dead!” 

“You killed civilians and tried to frame Ahsoka Tano.” In the corner of his eye he saw Dexter pull Vindi from the room.

“Yes.” Barriss broke eye contact. “I should have stood up and said it was me the first time.  But I was scared, unsure of what to say, full of false bravado and the desire to stay free in my home! But there was something wrong with our order. Can you see that now!” 

“On that we agree.” Mace stood up on wriggly legs. “I failed—”

Barriss stared into his soul.

“—and something needs to change. Will you help me?”

“Only if I know everything .” 

“You will,” Mace said. “As long as you stay with us.”

“I’m sorry,” Barriss whispered, “before all of this… I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

Mace fell, but she caught him and he regained balance. At that moment they were alone in the force, together. Mace felt her pain, and he embraced her. “I am sorry, Barriss. We should have done better.” 

Tears fell, but only very few. 

…

“Grand Inquisitor. We’ve found a large credit transaction from a known Jedi sympathizer and caught two men.” 

The Inquisitor placed the hand back in the evidence box. Windu’s lightsaber hung on his belt.  Exantor Divo, the human head investigator, was a vile careerist. But the Inquisitor had promised Palpatine results and Divo had collected Jedi evidence quickly enough. “I will interrogate them myself. Leave the accounts open and trace every transaction.” The Inquisitor read the offered datapad. Dannl Faytonni & Achk Med-Beq. Petty criminals. 

…

The Emperor perched on his balcony letting the air sting his skin. The report from the Grand Inquisitor had so much promise. Palpatine would only torture him a little for damaging the prisoner’s minds. His creature Vader stood menacingly behind him, if it weren't for the blinking lights on his life support panel the boy would be invisible at night in the armor. 

The newest development had made his presence a necessity. “Lord Vader… what do you know of a Beselisk named Dexter Jettster?” 

Vader’s respirator breath flinched. “He is a known associate of Skywalker and… Kenobi .”

“Indeed.” Palpatine’s lips curled into a smile. Across the surface of Coruscant, propaganda holos of The Hero With No Fear winked out, never to be seen again.