Betrayal - Chapter 38

Aftermath

Empty. All he felt was empty.

Exhausted, only half-aware of his own injuries and not particularly inclined to move even if he had the strength, Obi-Wan sat there, and tried not to think.

He was surrounded by bodies. Next to him, Atel sprawled, a lifeless corpse, her hand already cooling in his. In some corner of his mind, he supposed it was his duty to get up, to go help sort out this debacle, give aid to the survivors, cover the dead. But he couldn't leave her, not like this. And he was so tired.

Catching his eye, Qui-Gon gave him a sharp concerned look and then turned back to comfort one of the Senators who had a little earlier called for his Master's death. Even injured, his shoulder blackened, his movements slow and deliberate, still his old Master managed to show compassion for those who would have wished him harm. A true Jedi in every sense of the word.

 Sle'fey, on the other hand, was rushing about, talking furiously into his comlink. All bustle and business, the Bothan didn't appear to be the least bit affected by the carnage. Master Xacor, supposedly Sle'fey's good friend, and the other Jedi were dead by Sidious's hand but he seemed to ignore the devastating losses. His fur was matted with blood and surely there were other injuries, hidden under his tunics. But his bark was still strong and his eyes clear and steady. He looked almost happy.

"Phen, we have at least 25 beings dead, Senators and bureaucrats as well as the Chancellor." Sle'fey stopped pacing for a moment, frowning down at the butchery around him, and then shook himself free and sank back into the manipulative slime Obi-Wan now knew him to be. "Yes, our sources were correct. He was a Sith Lord. There will be hell to pay but we still have a few people alive up here so send as many medivacs as you can."

Sle'fey must have noticed Obi-Wan looking at him. Scowling, his fur whirling slightly in agitation, he turned, facing him squarely, but continuing to answer whatever questions were being asked on the other end. "Of the twelve in our group, only three of us, Jinn, Kenobi and I, are still able to function." There was an almost imperceptible flash of sorrow in the dark eyes, so brief that Obi-Wan thought it might have been his imagination. "Most of the rest are dead, including Master Xacor, and some of the ones still alive may not survive."

Another nod as the Jedi Master said, "Be prepared to answer questions put to you by the Senate but stall as long as you can. I'll brief the Council when I return. Sle'fey out."

As he shoved his comlink into the fastness of his tunics, the Bothan watched Obi-Wan for a moment longer, looking for all the galaxy as if he were weighing his options and finding the balance unacceptable.  Or finding him unacceptable - Obi-Wan wasn't sure which - but it didn't matter. He'd lost everything he'd ever held sacred and now there was nothing left. Sle'fey's little games meant nothing to him, less than nothing. All he wanted to do was sleep and forget what he'd done, what had been done to him - and to her.

Sle'fey must have come to some conclusion because his gaze flicked up toward the entrance to Palpatine's office. A rustling behind Obi-Wan and he twisted, not quite curious, to see the doors open and Senator Amidala sweep into the room.

"Chancellor, I…." She stood there, looking over the devastation, seemingly shocked for a moment, then straightening up, suddenly alert and obviously ready for anything.

Obi-Wan had read of her courage during the Siege of Naboo and she was showing it again. No frail blossom here. She looked pale but stood vigilant, her hand gripping a blaster that she must have concealed under those vast robes of hers. Obi-Wan hadn't even seen her reach for it. An able young woman.

Behind her stood a dozen armed Naboo and a few Republic guards trailing them.

"Qui-Gon? What happened here?" Her voice was sharp with concern and Obi-Wan could see that she was assessing the situation, weighing the hidden potential for danger against the need for helping the injured.

Before Qui-Gon could reply, Sle'fey hustled toward her, paws wide, all oily manipulation. There was just a hint of groveling in his voice. "Senator, how fortunate that you have arrived. There has been a situation. I've called for medivacs but if your entourage could help with the survivors, it would be most appreciated."

"Of course, Master Jedi." Nodding, she motioned her staff to fan out. The way the Naboo moved quickly to the few still breathing spoke of long experience with triage. The Republic guards stayed by the door, clearly protecting the exit, whether to keep the Jedi in or intruders out, Obi-Wan couldn't tell.

Trying again to engage her in conversation, perhaps divert her attention from the fact that there were so many dead or that Palpatine's half-covered head lay jumbled among the rest, Sle'fey started to thank her but she shrugged him off, turning to Qui-Gon instead. "Qui-Gon, please, what happened?"

His wound was still oozing at his shoulder, and as Qui-Gon stood up, to her credit, Senator Amidala winced in sympathy. "Padmé, it was a trap. Palpatine…."

Stepping further into the room, her hand out as if to meet Qui-Gon half way, suddenly, one of the Republic guards, taller than the rest, leapt forward, shoving himself in front of the Senator. Putting up his hand, he said flatly, "Senator, I cannot permit this. You may be in grave danger. The Jedi are the only ones left standing. We must assume that the Jedi did this."

Glancing quickly at Qui-Gon and then Master Sle'fey, Amidala straightened up, bristling at the implications. "At the moment, we don't know what happened. But until we do, we need to take care of the living and assess the situation."  And as she tried to step around the man, he followed her, a wall of stubborn duty.

"Madam, you are the senior Republic representative here and must be protected at all costs." Obi-Wan could hear the persistence in the man's voice, although he had to admit that Amidala was looking more furious by the moment. "At least wait until backup arrives, Senator."

"My own forces are quite capable to protecting me, Lieutenant, and while I appreciate your diligence, you will let me pass." When he still didn't move, she shoved him aside – in other times, it would have been amusing to watch this slight girl pushing past a huge hulk of a man - and ignoring his protests, started to pick her way toward Qui-Gon.

Short of bodily removing her from the room, there wasn't much the Lieutenant could do. Looking thoroughly unhappy, he trailed behind her, muttering into his comlink, apparently waiting for more guards to appear.

With so many now looking after the few survivors, Amidala must have realized that her help was no longer necessary. As she reached Qui-Gon, she gently pushed aside his tunic and looked at the wound, shaking her head at the mess. "I'm afraid there is nothing to be done until the medivacs arrive with supplies."

"I thought as much." He stood there, white as a shroud, and Obi-Wan thought Qui-Gon might be going into shock.  He seemed to shake it off as he gazed down at her but his voice was husky with pain. "Padmé, it was a trap."

"Master Jinn, perhaps you should wait until you have seen the Healers." Sle'fey's voice was as pointed as shattered glass, obviously trying to contain the situation but the Senator wasn't having any of it.

Sending a scorching glare in the Bothan's direction, she began to look more closely at the carnage, growing paler and more appalled with every second. Piles of bodies, some shredded from plasma bolts, limbs sticking up and the smell of blood and cooked meat, the sharp ozone of lightsaber blades. It was almost overwhelming for Obi-Wan and he had been in the heat of it all.

She was coming into it with fresh eyes. Obi-Wan could only imagine what she must have been feeling. The horror bled through her voice. "How many dead? And where is Chancellor Palpatine?"

"Padmé…," Qui-Gon hesitated, obviously trying to soften the blow, but there was nothing to be done. "At least 25 and there may be more before the night is done." And with a tiny grunt as he shifted to one side, he nodded toward the gore-strewn pile. "Palpatine is dead."

Her gaze slid past him, searching among the dregs of corpses for a familiar face. She must have found it because her head snapped back and even from Obi-Wan's vantage point, she looked like she was going to be sick. "Where is the rest of him?"

Before Qui-Gon could say anything else, still hovering near Amidala's shoulder, the Lieutenant pulled out his blaster and pointed it straight at him, the other Republic guards gathering up behind him with weapons drawn. "You three are under arrest for the murder of Chancellor Palpatine."

She whirled on the man, her voice sharp as a blade, "Stand down. You have no proof at present for arrest. Until there has been an investigation sanctioned by the Senate Judiciary, you will refrain from making allegations of that kind."

The guard was sputtering with indignation. "But he's been murdered. His head is…."

She drew back, straightening, sending him a glare that would have destroyed lesser men. "Since you insist that I am the senior representative here, you will stand down until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?"

"If they escape, it will be on your head, Senator." But he motioned his men to return to the doorway and stood there, stone-steady, blasters drawn, waiting.

Once she realized that the Republic guards would stay put for the time being, Amidala walked over to the half-covered head and pulled back the cloth. This time she didn't recoil from the gore but her frown grew thunderous. As she stood up, she looked first around at the carnage in the room, then settled her gaze on Trest Sle'fey.

"It would seem that a lightsaber was used to kill Chancellor Palpatine. Do you have an explanation for this, Master Jedi?" Her eyes were as hard as durasteel and winter-cold but he didn't back away from her accusations.

"Self-defense, Senator." Master Sle'fey straightened, muzzle up, standing there as if ready to battle anyone who would dare challenge his words, looking every inch the leader of the Jedi Order. "Chancellor Palpatine used some kind of plasma weapon on us. Most here did not stand a chance."

Her eyes widened as she took in the implications. "Are you accusing the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic of murder?"

Qui-Gon flinched at the hostility in her voice. He must have been more injured than Obi-Wan realized. Usually, his old master would be the epitome of stoic calm, even in the face of overwhelming odds. "Yes, we are." He stepped forward, leaning down, his eyes soft with sympathy. "I'm sorry, Padmé. I know he was a friend but he fooled us all."

She jerked away, looking around again at the bodies. "What are you saying?"

"We were about to arrest him and turn him over to the Senate for investigation when he attacked us." His fur whirling madly, Sle'fey growled contempt as he nodded toward the severed head. "Chancellor Palpatine was not the genial, grandfatherly leader we all thought, trying to save the Republic from itself in these troubled times."

To Obi-Wan's eyes, Sle'fey was hesitating too long, staring at her, looking suspiciously like he wasn't sure if he should tell her everything or twist things as he had always done. Obi-Wan's experiences with him, the Jedi Council and their flexibility with truth made him wary. The Bothan was devious to a fault, the consummate trickster but he must have decided on honesty - for a change.  "Senator Amidala, he was a Sith Lord."

There were hurried whispers in the background; her face paled with shocked disbelief. "Do you have proof?"

Looking thoroughly sure of himself, Sle'fey bowed toward her.  "Oh, yes. More than enough."

From the entrance, there was loud condemnation. "He's making it up. It's not possible for our Chancellor to be one of those Sith creatures." Growls of agreement followed; apparently the Republic guards were not happy about the situation or believed the Jedi for a single moment.

But the mutters died down when Senator Amidala sent them a distinctly haughty stare and then deliberately turned her back on them. "It will have to be put before the Judiciary and there will certainly be an uproar. I would assume for your sake that you are prepared for the worst. They may dissolve the Jedi Order over this."

"That is one potential outcome, yes." Sle'fey sounded smug as if he'd already planned for that eventuality. Even Amidala sent him a questioning glance but he merely ignored her looks. "I am sure that the Senate will find the Jedi and the Order clear of all charges. Now if…."

He never finished the sentence. The first of the medivacs swept into the room and in a moment it was controlled chaos. Amidala quickly stepped forward and began to direct the efforts, making sure that the still-living were quickly hoisted into hoversleds and whisked away to the nearest infirmary, the Jedi to the Temple Halls of Healing and non-Jedi to Manarai Medical Center.

All the while, the Republic guards at the entrance kept their eyes on Sle'fey, Qui-Gon, and sometimes sent a glance toward him, likely trying to make sure none of them escaped. As if he would bother.

Amidst the bustle, Obi-Wan sank back again. No longer even mildly curious as to what was being said or done, too tired to think, he was sure someone would come for him eventually and it would be an effort to care. Instead, he turned away, staring at nothing and then reluctantly down at the shell of his Padawan, now just a cooling corpse. Closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain, the memories, the horror of it all. Tried to ignore the taint of the still darkened Force, all that sorrow spilling over into the oily currents, all that death. 

He didn't even hear Qui-Gon hobbling toward him, just felt the slight breeze as he knelt down. "Obi-Wan? We will need to leave soon."

He grunted in return. He knew he should put it aside, let his feelings go into the Force like a good Jedi would and be at peace but perhaps he wasn't that man any more.  Qui-Gon didn’t say anything else but he could almost hear his reproach. Obi-Wan let out a long, slow breath. "Do you think she knew what she was doing at the end?"

There was a long silence before Qui-Gon murmured, "Yes, she knew." Then he placed his hand on Obi-Wan's uninjured arm, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. "We will honor her sacrifice, Padawan. When we return to the Temple…."

"Don't!" He shook off the contact. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to be offered pity or understanding or any of the other compassionate Jedi platitudes. He'd led her here to her death, killed her as if he's wielded the saber with his own hands and he didn't need Qui-Gon reminding him of duty and sacrifice.

"Do you think I'm a good Jedi, Qui-Gon?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer; he wasn't sure he should have asked the question.

But Qui-Gon didn't protest, must have realized that Obi-Wan was still exhausted, at the end of his rope and thinking of letting go. "I think you are a good man in need of rest and meditation. These last days have been difficult." He said quietly, "When you've regained your balance, Obi-Wan, I think you will already know the answer."

There was a rustle of long skirts and Senator Amidala stood over them. "Qui-Gon, Master Jedi, we need to clear the room so that the Republic investigators can begin. If you will follow me, I will see that you are sent safely back to the Temple. Under guard unfortunately, but I'm sure you understand that." She seemed to hesitate, perhaps understanding how much Obi-Wan had lost. "The bodies will remain here for the time being but once the Judiciary team has taken the evidence needed to make a determination, all the Jedi dead will be sent back to the Order for cremation."

As Qui-Gon helped him to his feet and they stumbled away to the door, he thought about what would happen next. They would take samples, handle her body as if it were nothing, treat her like the corpse she was.

The Jedi would agree, would remind him that her body was just crude matter, that Atel was already one with the Force and when her remains came back to the Temple, they would burn the shell into ash.

But when he looked back, all he saw was her face, white and still, and wondered where his shy girl had gone.

To Chapter 39