Chapter Text
The chancellor was behind Fox’s condition. There was no other explanation. Bail had skipped back through the footage that R2 had recovered more than once now; nobody else ever entered the office, and Fox never left.
As the truth of the matter sunk in, he leaned away from the datapads and took a moment to breathe. He needed to stop, needed to let himself think. What were the options here?
He could take what he had learned to the other senators, or maybe even the Jedi, but then what could they do with the knowledge that he could not? They all had as much influence as he did over the chancellor’s office.
He could follow R2’s advice, and get arrested for murder and treason (a tantalising option, looking back at the footage, but ultimately probably unwise).
Or, he could take the footage and attempt to use it as evidence against the chancellor… but then came the issue of the clones being in a difficult spot legally that himself and his allies in the senate hadn’t been able to shift them from.
If he went with that option then not only would he be contending with the fact that the footage never explicitly detailed the chancellor’s involvement, he would also struggle to see the man prosecuted with any accuracy – the clones were not yet legally considered sentient, after all. There would be no assault charge to level against him, and if it came to a dispute over the chancellor’s guilt, they wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.
No. This footage wouldn’t be enough on its own. If he wanted to do anything to help the commander, he would need something more.
What he needed was a plan.
—
The following days were nerve-wracking. Perhaps not as much as breaking into security records with the assistance of an astromech droid had been, but nerve-wracking enough.
After Fox’s reaction in Bail’s office before, he had quickly dismissed the idea of asking Fox to directly assist him with procuring further evidence. He had already caused Fox enough stress at the mere mention of a potential investigation, and didn’t want to imagine what the look on the man’s face might be if he explained his intentions now.
For the first part of his plan, Bail needed to act alone.
Getting close enough to Commander Fox to plant a camera on his armour was going to be difficult, but not impossible. He felt more than a little guilty for abusing the fact that the commander would never kick him out of the office, but reasoned to himself that it would be worth it in the long run. If this worked, and Bail was able to show the Republic the truth of Fox’s – of the clones’ – situation, then one day they would be able to speak up against anyone they liked without fear of consequences.
If any further doubts crept through, then all he ever needed to do to convince himself to continue was think of how he’d found Fox only a few nights beforehand; the empty expression, the cuts and the bruising, and the uncaring compliance that could have easily ended in… something Bail didn’t want to think about, but needed to think about, because if he didn’t do anything to stop it then who would?
With this as a focus, Bail always found it easy to steel his resolve.
—
After days of following the commander, making up excuse after excuse to remain nearby (excuses which often became truths, because the time spent conversing with Fox and the other troopers was certainly useful for him when it came to to gathering more evidence that a new bill for clone rights was required), the opportunity finally presented itself.
With another trooper calling Fox outside for assistance, Bail was left alone in the office, Fox’s helmet sitting across from him on the desk. Bail only waited a moment to make sure the coast was clear before making his move.
As Bail patched the recording software into the commander’s helmet, he liked to imagine that the man had at least come to trust him a little over the past few days if he was willing to leave Bail alone in his office unsupervised (and ignored the spike of guilt that followed the thought that he was immediately abusing that trust, now).
Before this point he had insisted on keeping eyes on Bail at all times… probably because of previous incidents involving senators and the guard, and, oh, there was that guilt again.
It would all be worth it in the end, he consoled himself, smiling innocently up at the commander from behind his own flimsiwork again as Fox re-entered the room. Holo-footage of the chancellor within his office would be indisputable, and Fox was the only one that Palpatine had shown his true colours to. This was the only option.
—
Of course, that wasn’t the end of it. There was still a frustrating amount more waiting involved, and then more time spent sorting through the data once it had been obtained.
The fact that he was having to wait for the worst-case scenario to happen again made Bail hate this approach the more he let himself think about it, despite the fact that he had looked through all of his other options and acknowledged that this was the best one. In fact he was almost at the point of taking up R2’s more radical plan of murder and chaos, when he finally made a breakthrough.
It was later in the day when the footage came through, late enough that Bail had almost decided to pack up for the night. As it was, he was very glad that he didn’t.
Bail watched the footage through once.
Then twice.
Then a third time, just in case he truly had started to lose his mind somehow over the past few days of frantic planning and illegal activities–
But, no. The footage didn’t change.
Bail had expected to collect evidence of corruption and abuse as a worst-case scenario. What he found in front of him now, playing out clearly on the screen, was corruption and abuse of the worst case scenario.
The holovid was short, but damning. Palpatine began with more scathing remarks than usual, apparently disappointed in the commander’s work during some mission that Bail couldn’t make sense of, before informing Fox that his failures couldn’t go unpunished. Then the chancellor – the Chancellor of the Republic! They’d allowed this man power over the entire Republic! – raised a hand, and shot lightning towards the camera viewpoint (towards Fox).
Lightning. From his hands.
Bail paused the footage – silencing the commander’s screams – and tried to stop the trembling in his hands.
He had only ever seen such an ability utilised by darksiders. Sith. There was no doubt that the chancellor was one of them, no matter how Bail might try to apply logic to the situation, or try to reason that they couldn’t have given one a position of power in the heart of the Republic.
He needed to contact the Jedi immediately. He reached for the datapad and tried not to think too hard about all of the other implications of having a Sith acting as chancellor, which he really should have known would be something of an impossible task.
How had nobody noticed? What could they do now?
A knock at the door interrupted his spiral. A knock, immediately followed by the door sliding open, despite the fact that he had very definitely sealed it to his security level before viewing any of the footage. Bail quickly slid his datapad under the desk, and did his best to look innocent before–
Sith hells.
Sith hells.
Before the chancellor stepped through the door, Commander Fox trailing in behind him.
Later, Bail would back on everything and feel a sense of pride at his ability to keep the panic off of his face, the hours of his life spent playing the part of the diplomat obviously having paid off – but in the moment all he felt was dread.
“Senator Organa,” Palpatine spoke up, saving Bail from having to make the first move, “I apologise for the interruption at such a late hour. I just wanted to catch you to discuss a matter that has been recently brought to my attention.”
His words were as sickly sweet as ever, and he was smiling. It was the same smile he’d been sporting moments before electrocuting Fox.
“I… is something wrong?” Bail managed to get out, trying not to linger on the comparison for long. Bluffing until he could make a retreat was his only option, but hadn’t Obi-Wan explained that force users could detect emotions? Did that include thoughts? He couldn’t quite recall, the memories of their discussions on Zigoola and beyond all becoming jumbled in his panic.
It was then that Bail realised the dilemma of trying not to think certain thoughts. It was impossible.
Bail watched Fox shift from his place behind the chancellor. Was that fresh scoring on his armour? No, of course not, why would there be scoring. Well maybe there was, but not from anything like lightning. Obviously it was from something like a blaster bolt. Or fire? Could fire leave scoring?
“Certainly not,” Palpatine responded, making Bail jump for a moment before he remembered what he had just asked aloud. “I actually came here to reassure you of this fact. I was aware that you had been in contact with the commander more often as of late, but I hadn’t been informed of the reason until recently. I understand the concern that you have completely in regards to his amnesia – the thought of one of the commanders of the guard becoming compromised is not one I like to entertain either – but I can assure you, the situation is well under control.”
Bail didn’t feel particularly reassured.
“If you had just come to me originally,” the chancellor continued, “I would have explained that the commander had already asked me for assistance, and spent time in the hands of my own private doctors – but, cruelly, the amnesia must have taken that from him too. The truth of the matter is that I only want what’s best for him. Believe me.”
Bail blinked – and for a moment, despite all logic and the damning evidence to the contrary, found himself believing the man.
It made perfect sense.
Until it didn’t.
That couldn’t be the case, couldn’t be the truth. He couldn’t accept it as such even as it tried to force itself upon him, force its way into his mind, because Bail knew that the chancellor was a Sith.
The chancellor was a Sith and he was hurting Fox, not helping him, and would continue to hurt Fox unless Bail did something about it!
Bail shook himself, struggling to make sense of the conflicting thoughts while scrambling for an acceptable lie to placate the man, head throbbing with a dull ache that (somehow, despite the insanity of the past half-hour) hadn’t been there until a few moments ago.
By the time he focused on the chancellor again, Palpatine was staring him down, expression far colder than it had been before his little speech.
“I see.” His words were as cold as his expression.
Behind him, Fox stepped up, looking as if he wanted to intervene. With his helmet still held under one arm, Bail had a clear view of the helpless look on his face – and the pleading look in his eyes. The chancellor turned to him, then looked back at Bail, who found himself frozen in place. Not literally, which he was thankful for given what he knew force users were capable of, but the realisation that there no longer any point in trying to lie was chilling enough on its own.
“How unfortunate,” the chancellor continued after a beat. “I had thought you to be a very sensible candidate for ensuring Alderaan’s future prosperity within this galaxy – but a curiosity such as yours cannot be allowed to thrive any longer. You understand.”
Bail did, and found himself trying to calculate how quickly he could make it to the door, before the chancellor’s next words made him falter.
“And you–” this time, Palpatine’s focus was on Fox– “since you are obviously unable to keep any secrets at all, I find myself seeking to kill two birds with one stone. Decommissioning after killing a senator unprovoked will be the only reasonable response, I believe.”
Once again, Fox shifted, this time as if to brace himself – but then the chancellor had stepped closer, speaking something to him that Bail couldn’t make out, and Fox stiffened.
Bail saw his expression flatten, and go blank.
It was a familiar and terrible sight. Before his eyes, the commander became the shell of a man that Bail had found wandering the corridors all those evenings ago; the empty person who had inspired him to begin this doomed investigation in the first place.
The commander robotically moved to put his helmet back on. Then, he drew his blaster.
Fox was going to kill him, Bail realised. Fox was going to do exactly as the chancellor had said, and kill him–
For the second time that night, the door to Bail’s office opened without warning.
This time, however, the sight that met him only filled him with relief.
“...Am I interrupting something?” Obi-Wan asked mildly, taking a very slow look around at the scene before him.
The group of them, collectively, blinked back.
Bail, despite the fact that he was still staring down the barrel of a blaster, swallowed the urge to celebrate. The Jedi had received his transmission with the footage in time. Perhaps he would get out of this alive after all–
Fox’s attention shifted from Obi-Wan back to him again, and Bail had a split-second’s warning to throw himself to the side before the commander was firing at him.
The desk provided him with cover for the moment but he still had to move before the commander leapt after him. The only comfort he had was the blue glow illuminating the office behind him… and then the thunk! of the commander’s blaster sailing from his hand and hitting the glass next to them.
“Execute Order 66!” he could hear the Chancellor screech in the background, “Kill them both!”
Despite the chaos that followed, both Bail and Obi-Wan dodging knife-swipes and grappling attacks from the commander, with his friend by his side Bail couldn’t help but let a little hope slip through the despair.
Then Obi-Wan stood, breathing heavily, lightsaber lost at some point in the fight, with his back to the chancellor.
The chancellor glared, and raised his hand in a gesture that was familiar to Bail – familiar because he’d seen it recently, seen it in the footage that had led to this scenario now.
He hadn’t been able to stop it, that last time. It had already happened. Fox had suffered and all Bail had been able to do was watch.
This time, he could do a bit more than watch.
Instinct carried him forwards, and he pushed Obi-Wan to the side. He couldn’t bring himself to regret his actions even as the lightning arced and struck him instead, even in the grip of the burning, agonising pain that followed–
Even as consciousness failed him, and everything faded to black.
—
Bail was moving. Someone was moving him. Someone who was talking, in a familiar, comforting voice.
“Hold on,” he could hear them saying. “Hold on, you can’t die now. We’re almost away.”
He drifted. He drifted, but as drifted, he made an effort to hold on.