Betrayal - Chapter 30Hard to see, the Darkside is
Something was wrong. Something had been wrong all day.
The Force was full with smoldering shadow. Ordinarily, Sidious would have reveled in it - the flashes of agony-red, the despair of those who had lost hope mixing with undernotes of confusion and melancholy, the crescendo of foul pleasure as pain and grief stained the currents. Someone had died, someone with a great deal of Force sensitivity and it was oh so very satisfying. It had all the delicious diversion of an innocent being tortured to death.
Sidious would have rubbed his hands in triumph if not for one small thing. In amongst the smoky tatters of darkness, there were also glimmers of light in the Force, not the corrupt blue explosion of darkside energy but clear, honest radiance. It was a trivial irritant, but nevertheless of concern.
Then there was the other problem. As he had prepared for departure to the Outer Rim to meet with Tyrannus, he had expected that rsshak fool, Tharten, to notify him of Jinn's death. It was likely that it had been Jinn's demise that he had felt in the Force but he needed to be sure.
Admittedly, he would have enjoyed destroying Jinn with his own hands, but alas, he would have risked discovery. Better to have a subordinate take all the liability and he acquire all the reward.
He did envy Tharten her task, though - the delicious pleasure of drawing out that pathetic fool's agony, pulling sheets of suffering from his flesh, spattering red pain across the walls, making sure that he vomited out his death in throat-tearing screams. She had the perfect opportunity to kill someone that she had hated for a very long time and he expected that she had used the time well.
But she had not contacted him and that was tiresome. Of course, it was conceivable that she had been caught but unlikely. More of concern was the distinct possibility that she had betrayed him. That was almost to be expected; after all, the Sith deal in betrayal as a matter of course. But she had been trained as a Jedi and sometimes the early mind-warping dogma was difficult to eradicate. If she had sided with the Order in this matter, it could be a problem.
It was a minor one at best. There was little the Jedi could do, trapped as they were by the laws of the Republic and their own ideas of 'selfless sevice'.
Besides, Tharten did not know who he was, did not know that Darth Sidious was really Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. He had hidden his identity well.
From behind him, on the spacious desk of his office, a soft chime pinged and then pinged again, signaling an incoming transmission for the Supreme Chancellor. Growling at the possibility of further delay, Sidious was about to cut off the annoyance when he saw who was calling - not Tharten but that pompous grub-worm, Zaros.
The man might be an insignificant insect but he had his uses.
Sidious smoothed his red robes, settled into the wide-backed seat and composed himself into Palpatine persona. Genial smile, grandfatherly-blue eyes, the picture-perfect leader of the Republic, and then with a wave of his hand, he opened the link.
The image was startling. Zaros, the overdressed buffoon, was never less than immaculate - his cravat studded with jewels, his hair flawlessly coiffed, the finest of shimmersilk tunics. Immaculate until now.
Palpatine tried not to laugh. It was clear that the bureaucrat had been in some kind of altercation. His hair was sticking up on one side of his head, refusing to lay flat even though Zaros kept patting it down and his clothing was rumpled. He looked thoroughly flustered.
Putting on his most concerned face, astonishment in his voice, he said, "Representative Zaros, are you well?"
"Supreme Chancellor." The man sputtered a bit as he tried, without success, to straighten his tunic. "It is those damn Jedi. I'll have you know that they are a menace to society. I have a good mind to resign from this job and go back to Chandrila where I am treated with more respect."
"Master Zaros, please do not even consider the possibility. I've always thought that your work as Jedi Representative is so very important to the Republic and it is key to the workings of this government." Palpatine nodded, putting on a show of concern for the simpleton. "The Jedi have been recalcitrant of late and it grieves me that they remain unwilling to help the Republic in these troubled times. But you have helped stabilize the situation. We need you."
The man flushed pink, accepting the compliments with a tilt of his head and another tug on his tunic. "Supreme Chancellor, I thank you for your support but it is not good news. They treated me abominably, keeping me locked up in one of their smaller rooms while they conspired among themselves." He sounded horrified.
"Locked up, you say. And conspired?" Palpatine allowed his face to show mild dismay but beneath the surface, he was surprised. This was an unexpected development. Conspiracies could be useful and he would certainly twist them to his advantage but he needed more information and this irritating clerk insisted on being coy. Trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, he said, "Who would do such a thing?"
The answer was even more troubling. "The Jedi Council."
Palpatine's thoughts immediately turned to Sera Tharten. She had missed her deadline, much to his annoyance, and now the Council was locking up the Senate's representative. It would seem that Tharten has some backbone after all.
Zaros was getting more energetic as he grew more furious. Incongruously, his mussed hair was bouncing about as his hands rose and fell with his story. "That Bothan, Sle'fey, was the worst, yelling at me to shut up. He has the nerve to tell me that my services were no longer needed. And they didn't even let me know that there was a meeting as they are required to do. Just started it without me."
Palpatine could almost admire the Jedi master for putting the little bureaucrat in his place. In his quieter moments, he had often thought about how enjoyable it would be to slowly skin Zaros alive, prolonging the agony with pain-enhancing drugs, and listening to the bloody screams as he gurgled out his last breath.
But it was also odd. Sle'fey was not known for defying the Senate's wishes; indeed, he was often the first to enforce their edicts and he always sided with Tharten. That the Bothan was beginning to show audacity and strength of will was a surprise.
However, it could be the start of a powerplay between Sle'fey and Tharten for leadership of the Order. Or it could be a signal for something that he had expected for quite some time now - the refusal of the Jedi to accept further dismissals, and perhaps a willingness to fight back on issues of money and support of their work from the Senate.
He would need to consider it further but not at the moment, not with Zaros looking at him expectantly. Palpatine knew he had to play to his audience. Drawing back, he sputtered, "This is unacceptable. You represent the Republic. They should not be treating you with so little respect." Frowning, he asked, "Did Master Sle'fey say why?"
Zaros grew thunderous, "No. But they were discussing Jinn. The Council seemed to be in an uproar about it."
Jinn again. The man had been a mastermind at thwarting his plans, even when he had no knowledge of them. Rescuing Jedi trash from certain death, organizing the Bendu to help the poor and unfortunate, spreading his powerbase by using compassion and public service to gather support for his causes, opposing the slave trade from which Palpatine garnered a great deal of money and control - the Bendu slime-toad had been relentless.
Destroying him was not enough. Although he was likely dead, Palpatine wanted to smash his family into blood and entrails, ravage his Bendu group and everything and everyone he had ever loved.
And if Tharten had failed to kill him, slim though that the possibility might be, he would make sure that Jinn did not survive the week, even if he had to do it himself. He would not make the mistake of letting subordinates handle something so important again.
Trying to keep the hate out of his eyes, Palpatine slowly shook his head, as if perplexed by all the news. "And where was Master Tharten in all this? Surely, she was present. As head of the Council, her voice should have carried some weight."
"She wasn't there. Xacor told me later that she was ill." Zaros shrugged off the question, unsure or perhaps uninterested in where Tharten was hiding. "At least, he had some sense, unlike that animal, Sle'fey. The Bothan idiot kept spouting nonsense about letting Jinn go. That he was innocent." He threw up his hands in the air, his voice rising shrill. "Ridiculous."
Ridiculous, indeed. This was troubling news. Palpatine said sharply, "Innocent? I am surprised. Master Tharten assured me that the evidence was incontrovertible."
Zaros nodded, an intense frown deepening the lines in his face. "I believe that it is but Sle'fey keeps prattling on about data crystals and some nonsense about corrupted files. But they refused to say anything more about them. It was really quite absurd."
"Surely, you were able to make them see reason. The Senate will not accept something of this magnitude to be swept aside so easily." Not that it would make much difference with Jinn dead but it was the principle of the thing.
"I protested. Vehemently. But the Bothan said that he was a guardian of peace and justice." The bureaucrat snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. "Forgive me, Supreme Chancellor, but I laughed in his face. It was too much, really."
"Yes, yes. I see that it was upsetting to you." Palpatine leaned further back in his chair, his hands clasped before him, looking thoughtful and concerned.
Zaros was growing more agitated with every word. "Sle'fey said that they weren't taking commands from the Senate any more. And then they hustled me out of the room and locked me up. Without any food or drink, I might add. I have never been treated in such a way in all my life. Quite beyond belief."
And then Zaros stopped his tirade and stood there, a little man glowing blue in the transmission haze, waiting for sympathy - one thing the fool would never get.
So it would appear that the Jedi were unhappy with the status quo after all. Sle'fey would never do this on his own. He was too much of a coward.
But Palpatine needed to make this news seem more urgent. Refusing to obey the Senate over money issues was one thing; the people of the Republic could even sympathize with the problem. But disobeying the laws and giving the appearance of a revolt, enough to overthrow the government, could be much more useful. It could push his agenda back on track. The Jedi had been much too mild in their acceptance of a shrinking Order up to now.
Sharpening his voice in dismay, Palpatine said quickly, "This news is most distressing, Representative Zaros. It sounds like the Jedi Council has gone collectively mad. It could even be called rebellious."
Zaros took the bait. He seemed positively terrified by the idea. "That's what I thought. Those abominable Force powers of theirs unleashed. How would we be able to stand against them if they do try something? Without an army to back the Senate up, they could easily take over."
However, although the idea of rebellion needed to be nurtured a bit, it would not do to allow it to spread too quickly. The hottest flame burns out too quickly. He needed a long, slow fire, one that would consume all in time.
Sitting there, Palpatine said carefully, "How indeed? But are all the Council members in agreement? Surely there must have been a voice of reason among them."
Zaros snorted again, sounding even more derisive. "Most of them just sat there, mouths open like great sucker-toads wasting valuable air. Useless, the lot of them. Master Zacor tried to placate Sle'fey but it was no good. That white-furred slime just kept ranting on."
"It may be that Master Sle'fey's time on the Jedi Council will be coming to an end. Madness must have taken hold of his senses."
Nodding in satisfaction, Zaros settled down a bit, admitting, "Well....I must say that Master Xacor was most apologetic when it came time to get around to releasing me." Swiping at his unruly hair, he said, "That Xacor fellow was much more appreciative of my efforts with the Council. He.. he told me in confidence that Sle'fey had been acting strangely over the past several months and that he thought Sle'fey was trying to take the Jedi in a new direction, with him at the head of it."
"A reasonable man, is Master Xacor?" Palpatine said mildly.
Sneering at the thought, Zaros ground out, "As much as any Jedi could be reasonable. Sle'fey had been less than appreciative of my work with the Order and, in the last wave of dismissals, he looked almost furious. But Master Xacor managed to calm him down." Nodding, he said, "Yes, he would be very helpful in keeping the Jedi in line."
Bowing his head in a gesture of acceptance, Palpatine said, "This discussion has been most useful, Representative Zaros. I will certainly take your concerns under advisement but I fear you need to rest after your ordeal." As the bureaucrat looked as if he were going to interrupt, he said, "No, I won't hear of you doing another thing today. Your service has always been exemplary but never more so than now. I will contact you tomorrow and we will discuss our options with the Jedi."
Blinking in surprise, looking very much like a gundark caught in the headlights of a speeder bike, Zaros said, "Of... of course, Supreme Chancellor. Of course." But then he bleated plaintively, "But what of the rebellion?"
Palpatine tried to look solemn. "It was all a misunderstanding, I'm sure. But we will keep our eyes on it, just in case."
At least the little fool understood dismissal when he heard it. "I appreciate your time, Supreme Chancellor. I await your call." And, with one final pat to his unruly hair, Zaros's image winked out.
Turning his chair around so that he could look out over the city, Sidious sat back and scowled. In the distance, the Temple was softly glowing against the backdrop of Coruscant's evening sky; it seemed a fortress of light to the naked eye.
Damned Jedi scum.
It would seem that the Force had guided his hand again. His plans for meeting with Tyrannus would have to wait as he dealt with this latest change to his plans.
It was about time. He had begun to wonder if the Jedi had any backbone at all. Allowing the Senate to dismiss wave after wave of Jedi knights with nary a whimper, all because of their outmoded idea of 'selfless service', was disconcerting. They hadn't complained when the Senate closed the other Temples or cut back on food, and other necessities of their miserable existence. They hadn't even tried to mind-trick Zaros into forgetting all about this latest dispute; it would have been easy enough, weak-minded fool that he was.
Useless lightside worms, all of them.
He needed their rebellion. It would push the Senate to make even more cuts. It would alert the teeming billions to the plague of Force-users and turn popular thought from Jedi as guardians of peace and justice into dangerous traitors.
It would force the Jedi into more and more dangerous positions until they had no support in the Republic. And then he would strike them down, all of them.
Starting with Sera Tharten.
********************************
Mace Windu was worried.
It had been three days now since Qui-Gon had been arrested and taken away to the Jedi Temple. The lawyers for the Bendu had worked feverously to try and find out what was going on with Jinn but without success. It was as if he had disappeared.
They had the transport records. Kenobi, his troubled padawan and Qui-Gon had arrived on Coruscant without incident but, once inside the Temple, there was no news at all. Even his mysterious contact in the Order remained stubbornly silent.
This was not good.
He could not even reassure Le'orath about her husband. The look on her face every time she called him was daunting but when he had no news, her haunted eyes only grew more bleak. She had tried to be brave but he could see how much the effort cost her.
Qui-Gon's son, Ben, wasn't doing much better. Le'orath had told him that Ben had disturbing nightmares, scenes of torture and flame, screams that cut into him and left him shivering and terrified. The last time he'd seen the young one, the four-year old had looked pale as death and kept blinking back tears. He had not strayed from his mother's side for a moment, holding onto her tunic with a shaking, white-knuckled grip.
Le'orath didn't know what to do with her son. Force-blind, she wasn't able to comfort Ben in the way Qui-Gon might have. Her physical presence and warmth of her embrace weren't enough, Mace knew, but she was also very stubborn. All motherly concern, she had insisted on handling it herself.
For the moment, he was willing to let her have her way. She needed to regain some control of her life, and he wasn't about to take that small comfort away from her. However, if the dreams continued, Mace might have to insist on helping her whether she liked it or not. If nothing else, she would know that she wasn't alone and might realize that Ben needed help with his abilities.
It was too bad his wife, Adi, was still away with the younglings at Otah Gunga. She might have been able to get past Le'orath's defenses but she wouldn't be back until next week. But, if the situation remained unstable, he would be sure to send Adi over to the Jinn farm when she returned.
Rubbing his head to push away the headache that threatened behind his eyes, Mace looked out of his window into the darkness beyond. It was late, past the first hour, and he still had work to do.
Two of the moons were up, bathing the courtyard in a silvery glow. Beyond, he could see tree branches swaying in the wind. The scene was usually soothing, especially in the moonslight, but there was so much to do, now that Qui-Gon was no longer at the Sanctuary. He hadn't had a moment's peace since that day.
Besides, Mace had his own problem. Anakin Skywalker.
As if on cue, he heard it, a sharp grief-stricken howl. The sheer terror of it echoed down the hallway, but Mace knew it would continue for a while longer. Ben wasn't the only one with nightmares.
Hurrying to Anakin's side took but a few moments. In the moonsglow, he could see the sheen of sweat on his face, the mouth pulled back into a snarl. His arms were flailing about, clearly fighting something in the dream. He looked as if he were in terrible pain; the Force was ringing with it, chaotic twists of darkness pouring in and out of his skin.
The small whimper sent a chill down Mace's back and he quickly sat down on the young one's pallet, deftly avoiding the fists, trying to shake him awake.
With a cry, Anakin sat up, his breathing harsh and rapid in the darkness, and Mace could see tear tracks. For an instant, he thought the teen would fight him or else burrow into his arms for comfort. But then Anakin seemed to realize where he was and who he was with and he froze.
"Master?" he murmured, his face still half-panicked in the moonslight.
"I am here, Anakin. It was just a dream," Mace said softly. "Take a deep breath and let it out. It was only a dream."
With that, Anakin sent a scowl in his direction and then straightened, one hand scraping across his face, smearing tears and sweat. He was trying to look dignified and failing miserably.
"Master.... " he stopped, swallowing hard and then tried again, "Master Windu, don't. We both know that it's no dream. The Force is telling us to do something before it is too late."
Trying to keep his tone calm and even, he murmured, "Anakin, it's already too late. You must accept that Qui-Gon may not be coming back."
Defiance glittered in Anakin's eyes, and grief. "Then why is the Force sending me these visions? Master Qui-Gon's in pain. He may be dying and we are just supposed to sit here, doing nothing." Shaking his head, he hissed sharply, "I don't believe you. How could you let him go like that?"
He could see that Anakin was lashing out, foisting his fear onto the nearest target. Qui-Gon might have allowed it but he would not. Frowning down at the angry young man, Mace reminded him, "We've had this discussion before. There was no other choice."
It had no effect. If anything, Anakin grew more upset. "There is always another choice."
This was not acceptable behavior. It was clear that Anakin was unhappy with his decision but it was the only one Mace could have made at the time. His tone stern and final, he said, "Apprentice Skywalker, enough."
Glowering at him, Anakin sat back, his eyes narrowing, his jaw set, his fisted hands trembling with effort. But he was silent.
Letting out a long breath, releasing his frustration into the Force, Mace warned, "Sometimes it is important to listen to your feelings but, as a Bendu apprentice, you know that the Force must come first. Qui-Gon has told you the same thing many times." Gentling his voice, he asked, "Is there any indication that you should go to Coruscant?"
For a moment, he thought that Anakin would lie again. He could feel the undercurrent of desperation and the need to do something, anything, in the young man; it was almost overwhelming. He had to admit that it was difficult for him as well and he'd had many years of training in letting go of his own desires and following the Force instead.
"No," Anakin grumbled, looking away. The rest of it caught between gritted teeth, "No, the Force wants me here."
The truth at last. Until now, the apprentice had always maintained that he should have gone with Qui-Gon. Perhaps this time, there would be some answers. "Any idea why?"
"No, but I feel as if I'm being ripped apart." Anakin looked almost ashamed for a moment and then he seemed to turn inward, seeking answers. "I want to rescue Master Qui-Gon..." he swallowed hard, "very much, but my visions of him dying are mixed in with Naboo somehow."
"Describe them. I may be able to help you." But when the young man shook his head, clearly unwilling to talk, Mace said, "Anakin, you are not thinking clearly about this. The visions may be a warning in the Force, not for Qui-Gon but for the Bendu." When the young one looked up in surprise, he reminded him, "Visions are often confusing. They might be taken literally or as something entirely different. If not approached carefully, they might bring on the very thing you fear the most."
Glaring at him, Anakin snapped, "This had nothing to do with the Bendu. I saw Qui-Gon in pain, trapped." Then his voice dropped to a horrified whisper. "Tortured."
As the words stumbled into silence, Skywalker sat there, arms wrapped around bent knees, shivering in the shadows. He seemed very far away.
In the Force, Mace could see the smoky tendrils of Anakin's despair moving like shrouds in the currents; the air seemed to clot with the copper tang of dried sweat and old blood. It was colder, too, in the darkness.
Mace shuddered in sympathy but this was too important to let go. "Anakin, what exactly did you see?"
Skywalker's face was chalk and charcoal as he leaned into the moonslight, the lines etched sharp and raw. His eyes, too, were dark with remembrance. "Fire surrounded Master Qui-Gon, his hair in flames and he was screaming as his flesh bubbled away in the heat." Muttering softly , half to himself, he said, "Master is afraid of fire. I don't know if you know that but he always has been. His greatest fear and he was surrounded by it."
Anakin drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to center himself. "He was with Kenobi. Both of them surrounded by clouds of red blood and fire, always fire. Master's skin was falling off, melting in the heat. I could see the muscles underneath and they turned into charred bits of cooked meat, the bones sticking through. There was searing pain, not just the flesh burning away but a sharp quick thrust of something that turned his belly into agony. I felt it. The pain was unbelievable."
One hand fisted against his stomach as if to will away the torment. Anakin's other hand absent-mindedly brushed at his face, the skin gleaming wet in the shadows. Blinking, he didn't seem to notice what he was doing, just stared off into some unknowing distance, caught in the memories.
Mace said softly, "Was Kenobi with him then?"
"No... no." Anakin shook his head, still remembering. "As I stared into Master's face, his mouth opened wider and wider as he screamed. His eyes were red with blood but as I watched, his face melted into Le'orath's. She was terrified, blood on the floor and she was trying to crawl away from the flames. Fire again. She was screaming about running away and I saw... I saw...." He leaned forward, curling in on himself and buried his face in his hands.
Mace moved to sit next to him, one large hand brushing against Anakin's back, making soft circles of comfort. With much sympathy, he murmured, "Take a deep breath and slowly let it go, young one. And take as much time as you need."
"Yes, Master." Ragged attempts to follow his advice, the sound of slow, deliberate breaths was harsh in the darkened room. But after a few moments, Anakin was calm enough to continue.
"I saw a face in black and red, yellow eyes full of hate and a red saber like fire. I couldn't tell where he was or what he was but he was surrounded by a wall of flame, heat and light and death. There was death everywhere. Piles of dead bodies, some without hands, the mounds of flesh writhing as they melted into bone and blood, turning into mountains... like the ones near Master Qui-Gon's house. Little Ben running into the night and Master again, still slick with agony and the heat of a lightsaber burning through him."
Shivering, Anakin turned to face Mace. "I tried to reach for him, to rescue him. Anything to save him from the fire. I had almost gotten to him when you woke me up."
Mace did not know what to say. The vision was indeed powerful, full of dread and terrifying images. It could well be that it was an echo of what Qui-Gon was experiencing in the Force or something entirely different, perhaps Anakin's fears for his Master or a warning to be wary. Since the teen knew of Qui-Gon's problems with fire, it could color his viewpoint. But the mixture of flame with Qui-Gon's wife and son was very troubling and he recognized Anakin's description of the black and red-faced being. Not for the first time, he wished Yoda were there.
"I am unsure of its meaning, Anakin. I will meditate on it and we can discuss it further tomorrow." Mace tried to sound convincing but the teenager must have heard the uncertainty in his voice.
"But what about Master Qui-Gon? He's in pain." The apprentice was scowling again, pushing for his own solution to the problem, trying to get Mace to agree to go rescue his master.
Mace was growing tired of this argument. "You don't know that."
Stubborn as a bantha, Anakin growled out, "He's in pain."
"We will not be rescuing Qui-Gon in the near future. Put it out of your mind." This child was sometimes thoroughly engaging, compassionate and energetic and sometimes he was just annoying. Why Qui-Gon allowed this, Mace could not fathom. "I want you to meditate also. The image of Le'orath and Ben is disquieting. And the face in black and red sounds like our mysterious Jedi killer." When Anakin shifted impatiently, he said, "I think we should visit with the Jinns tomorrow. See how they are doing with Qui-Gon away."
"But Master Windu..."
There was a tired whine in the boy's voice that fractured Mace's patience at last. He said flatly, "I will see them alone if you continue on this course."
Anakin stilled at the reprimand. Biting at his lip for a moment, he lowered his eyes and said quietly, "I... I would like to see them also. If it is permitted."
Sometimes, the boy just made it so difficult. With a short nod, Mace said, "Good. Now get some sleep. You have a full day tomorrow and so do I. We'll talk in the morning."
As he stood up and moved to the door, he looked back to see Anakin still sitting there, looking out into the moonslit night. Skywalker seemed lost, a sheen of fear crowding his spirit.
There wasn't much more that Mace could do but turn and walk away. And try not to think about the fact that Anakin and young Ben weren't the only ones having nightmares.
A demon face in black and red, the black figure standing firm in a pool of blood.
The Force was warning them. Something was coming and it dealt in death.
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