The Weaving Force: Chapter 145

Chapter 145:

It… it had just seemed like any other day. I woke up, brushed my teeth, had breakfast with my wife and kids, Got ready for work, kids for school. You know. Just… normal. That’s the scary part. That became the scary part afterwards. Even you know, years later, sometimes I’m going through the normal every day routines and I’ll just remember Corruscant and get sick to my stomach with worry. My wife too.

The kids I think, brushed it off better than we did… after a while.

But that’s… that’s terrifying isn’t it? How one, normal day… can just end in complete hell.

Excerpt- Alderaan Galactic

Interview with Edmon Thermis, Corruscanti native and citizen

8/12 Galactic Standard 09:00 Alderaanian standard time

—

Dennis

After all these years, Dennis didn’t consider himself a particularly nervous or pessimistic person. Well, not pessimistic anymore at least. The years, age, experience and countless brushes with death and actual death had shrived him clean of such.

Life threw both good and bad at you. Sometimes the bad stuck out, but it was up to you to deal with it, not bitch and moan about it.

But even so, as… inured to pessimism as he was these days, he did feel genuinely nervous as another ship crept in right behind the Stalker, just as his ship slipped into the Coruscant system. 

“This’ll go great.” 

Keeping the sarcasm confined to the privacy of his own mind, he looked to Rugess. “All checks clear?”

The Bith nodded, babbling a quick rundown of all the safety checks and procedures they’d done to sweep the ship for anything. Even Hebert couldn’t sneak so much as a single fucking ant in here after they were done.

He sighed, “Alright.”

Opening a short wave transmission line, he linked up with Maul’s ship barely a few hundred meters behind his. 

Immediately, tall, dark and Sithy answered, scowling darkly and Sithly.

“We’re here.” he declared, looking past the hologram of Maul towards the far lights of Coruscant and the millions of shifting twinkles in the orbit around it that were the dozens of orbital stations, docking platforms, fuel depots and millions of arriving ships. “No one’s detected us, and as long as you stay by my ship no one will. Our IFF won’t be pinged in the system and our landing bay will be kept a secret.” He prayed that it was true. The Jedi - well, Alexandria, really - had given him all the codes needed to enter basically as a Jedi Shadow in the most classified of assignments. If there was any way to get Maul on that planet without alerting Palpatine, this was the best shot they had. 

Maul’s glare almost felt like a searing brand on Dennis’ flesh, even through the hologram. “If the Dathomiri children are not there, I will kill you, smuggler. Slowly.”

‘You’ll have to get on a long fucking line,’ Dennis didn’t say. Instead, he merely began plotting the ship’s course on the nav computer. “Duly noted. ETA is twenty-seven minutes. Sit tight.”

He cut the line. “Pleasant conversation,” he muttered sarcastically before taking a breath.

This time he opened another line, a very secure two way channel given to him exclusively for this.

It rang twice.

Just before the third ring, Alexandria was staring at him in place of Maul.

“Cook,” she drawled, raising an eyebrow. “I’m reading this transmission as in-system.”

He nodded. “I found Maul. We’re bringing him to you right now.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but her seconds-long silence told him that her mind was rapidly calculating what this meant.

Her answer was simple. 

“We’ll have to move fast.” She stood up, her face going out of screen. “We’ll meet at the Jedi Temple.”

And the transmission was cut.

As the Stalker drifted through the void of space, Dennis didn’t have to be a Jedi to feel the weight of the moment around him.

—

Vicky

“Scion?”

The name spilled from her lips like a glass slipping through numb fingers to shatter all over the floor. 

Taylor nodded, her features unnervingly still and flat. Even in the Force she exuded a sort of oppressive calm, like a press pushing down on the roiling feelings beneath. 

Vicky opened her mouth, the question ‘are you sure’ almost slipping free before she stopped herself. Taylor wouldn’t bring up this subject if she was unsure. Vicky didn’t want to come off as dismissive of a threat that, if she were being brutally honest, was almost an ephemeral abstract in her mind. 

Even so… “He’s… asleep? For now?”

“Reconstituting himself.” Taylor shrugged. “The final failsafe protocols saved the core of him, but as part of the process it excised all the shards deemed corrupted. Either by data, by the Shards’ own wants and desires, or any other number of factors,” she explained. “That in and of itself caused damage to his central processing, like getting in a car crash with an already fractured skull.” She took a deep breath through her nose. “But he is alive. I don’t know how long it’ll be, or how much weaker he might be, but eventually he will reform.”

Vicky let the information sink in, parsing it through in her mind before she decided to speak. “Tay, we-”

“Have a crisis to deal with.” It was Taylor’s voice, but Vicky’s thoughts. The brunette turned to look at her. “I know.” She nodded. “Palpatine first, then… then we can deal with everything else.”

Deal with everything else.

She agreed… in concept, because the truth was she didn’t have the foggiest idea of how to even begin dealing with this thing, and all the implications of said thing, but that was a bridge to be crossed later.

For the moment, however, she nodded and released a sigh through her nostrils. “Speaking of ‘dealing with everything else’...” She refocused. “Zygerria.”

She turned her eyes back to Taylor, and the woman didn’t flinch or look away. “I knew going in that there would be consequences,” she replied. “Anakin and I both did.”

“Just because you’re willing to face a punishment doesn’t make it acceptable!” Vicky snapped, standing up from her seat and beginning to pace. “I’m on the Council that has to decide your punishment. Did you even think about that before you did this?”

Now she saw Taylor shift, almost squirming uncomfortably in her seat. “You can abstain-”

Vicky scoffed. “Yes, because that would make me feel so much better! Leaving you hanging up in the freaking air while whoever’s left after the dust settles decides what to do with you while I have no goddam say!” She glared at the brunette, who at the very least had the grace to look genuinely apologetic where she sat. 

Vicky sighed, and took a moment to face and then kneel in front of Taylor, her hands rising to rest on the brunette’s knee. “Why didn’t you even talk to me?”

“If you genuinely didn’t know, there would be less blowback on you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me!”

“No. But I want to protect you.”

Vicky sighed again, shaking her head. “Tay-”

Her comlink rang. So did Taylor’s. 

The argument fell away, pushed firmly to the side as Vicky felt her heart leap into her throat. A spike of concern lanced through her as she wondered what the hell had happened in the moments she and Tay both spent scrambling to pull their holos from their robes.

Her eyes widened when she saw the caller. 

“Alexandria?” She looked to Tay, who showed her own holo in answer, showing that, yes, Alexandria’s name was flashing across the display as well.

“Did you… tell Alexandria about the Scion thing?” She dared to ask.

Taylor shook her head. “No… and I wasn’t planning on it if we could help it.” She answered. “She and Dennis don’t deserve that.”

Vicky looked back at her comm. “That means there’s only one thing she could be calling us both for.” She saw Tay nod out of the corner of her eye before Vicky answered her comm. “Yeah?” 

“Dallon, Hebert.” The woman forwent the formalities as she nodded, Vicky noticing the backdrop behind her, realizing the heroine turned senator was in a speeder. “We need to move fast. Gather the rest of the Jedi Council as quickly as you can.”

Taylor stood from her seat, Vicky doing the same from her kneeling position. 

“What happened?” Taylor asked, signaling Vicky to follow, no doubt she already knew where the Councilors were thanks to her insects. “Has Palpatine made a move?”

“Not him; Cook,” the woman answered. “He found Maul. He’s bringing him down to Coruscant as we speak.”

Vicky stopped for a moment, her steps catching with the sudden surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. We can’t know that Palpatine won’t sense him as he gets closer so we need to get everyone on the same page and we need to act now. I’ve already called Hannah and Satine. They’ll be going to the Temple soon as well. Get your contemporaries out of whatever meditation chamber they’ve stuffed themselves in and let’s move.”

She hung up, and Vicky stared, stupified, at the communicator in her hand for several moments before shaking her head.

She looked up at Taylor. Their previous conversation wasn’t done, but for right now, she smiled at the brunette. The small upturn of her lip wasn’t entirely forced. “Ready to go kick this fucker’s ass?”

Tay nodded and smiled back at her, trying to play along with Vicky’s effort to lighten the mood. “Come on. Master Windu is close.”

—

Anakin

“I can barely even fit in this anymore.”

He heard his wife’s complaint, and with all the wisdom and learned experience of a truly venerable and honorable Jedi Master, Anakin searched deep in the currents and eddies of the Force for what he should say in this moment, nursing the mug of caf as he did. 

“It still looks wonderful on you.” He promised.

Padme turned, offering him a flat, irritated look. “Thank you, Master Skywalker, for the wonderful vote of confidence, but that’s not the point. It’s already nearly impossible to hide the pregnancy. Most people think I’ve just been getting fat - nevermind that I have been - because your child is as gluttonous as his father, but at this rate it really will become impossible to actually hide, and then people will start asking questions!”

Anakin winced ever so slightly before mastering his fear - and let it not be confused with anything else, it was a healthy dose of fear - because Padme was scary when she was angry. Anakin marched over to her, reaching to take hold of one of her hands. “You could stay at home.” He offered. “The doctor did say that you were due in… what, a week? Two at the most? Senator Amidala can be sick for a week.”

She looked up at him and he could tell, even without the Force, that she was tempted. Oh, so very tempted to do as he asked.

But then, as always… her duty won out.

She sighed, giving a weary shake of her head. “I can’t,” She said miserably. “At least… not for two or three more days.”

“Why?” There were a lot of things happening in the Senate right now, and he was privy to many of them seeing as how the Council was directly or indirectly involved with most, but Padme’s perspective could be useful.

Diligently, he ignored the part of himself that reminded him that the two of them would have been on exactly the same page if he’d told her about Palpatine.

Then he ignored that part of him, because as much as he trusted her he didn’t have the right to betray the Council either, and they were too leery of Padme’s loyalties, in many ways justifiably, given that Anakin couldn’t vet everyone in her staff to trust her with that information. 

She sighed, pulling him from the guilt and second guessing he’d become far too accustomed to these last two months.

“I believe Alexandria is going to push for a Vote of No Confidence soon.” She said, and when she looked at Anakin the look in her eyes was miserable. “I… agree. Force, I hate saying that. I understand her reasons and they’re all valid. Chancellor Palpatine has in many ways pushed too far with his emergency powers but… he’s my friend… can I really just betray him like this? Blindsiding him with a vote against him if it comes to that? And if I don’t, what does that say? How can I preach the virtues of democracy while defending someone who has grown to undermine those virtues?”

Anakin frowned. He didn’t share Padme’s ideal view of democracy most days. Frankly, the Republic seemed more a bloated, dying beast that just hadn’t died quite yet on its best days. With all the corruption, self interests, conflicting views… The good people, people like Padme and Bail, were the exception.

But, his opinions aside, her love for democracy was one of her shining characteristics, and he couldn’t help but empathize with her pain, regardless of his view… or his knowledge. 

“Palpatine…” He began carefully. “The Separatist crisis isn’t over, but that doesn’t mean he should be serving in perpetuity; cancelling elections, pulling more power to himself…” He shook his head. “If you’re really that torn up about it, maybe you should stay home.” He insisted again. “The stress can’t be good for the baby.”

Again, he could see the temptation there, inching ever closer to winning out. 

“Padme,” He pushed once more, “Even if you don’t stay home now… you’ll need to stay home after the birth, at least to rest and recover. So what’s the harm in taking your break a little early?”

She smiled that coy, coquetish smile that he loved. “Master Skywalker, are you trying to see a Senator in dereliction of her duties? You should be ashamed.”

“Not if it works.” He answered with what Victoria had frequently called his ’stupid, shit eating smirk’.

Her smile was… promising, but before the conversation, or anything else, could go any further there was a sudden chime. It was such an uncommon sound that it genuinely took him a second to place it.

The doorbell? 

He looked to Padme in askance, but she looked just as surprised as he was before she marched over to the nearby security monitor, flicking it on to the front door. 

As soon as the camera image came up, Anakin felt his heart flop down to his stomach and then up to his throat.

There were six Jedi Knights at the door. 

Padme looked back at him, wide eyed and shocked. “Did anyone see you last night?” She whispered, as though the presence of the Jedi three stories down at the front door somehow meant that they could be overheard. 

Anakin shook his head to answer her. “No. I’m always careful.” He promised.

One of the Jedi pressed the button on the intercom. “Senator Amidala.”

Quickly composing herself, Padme answered with her voice as calm and normal as it could be given the circumstances. “Masters Jedi, forgive me if I sound a bit surprised or out of sorts, but… why are you here?”

“Senator,” The Knight that had spoken, who Anakin now recognized as Master Shryne, offered a nod. “I apologize for our unannounced arrival, but the Council has found credible information regarding a potential threat on your life.”

He suddenly realized what was happening even as Padme half whispered, half ordered him to go and take the shuttle out of their private hangar, and his feet woodenly carried him to obey and sneak out as he’d done dozens of times before.

There was only one reason so many Jedi would be here… the Council was moving on Palpatine.

—

Dennis

The Jedi Temple looked very, very different from what Dennis recalled the last time he came here, just a few years ago.

Back then, the Temple looked like just that, a temple. A structure that was a place of peace, of study, contemplation and serenity.

This was not that temple.

This place looked more like a fortress with manned walls and guns bristling along its perimeter. Clones marched in full battle contingents with rifles and heavy weapons. Jedi walked, armored and ready for a fight.

He highly doubted this was because of Maul, but no doubt the Zabrak was seeing the same damn thing as he followed behind the Stalker. Dennis imagined he was having a million and one second thoughts about marching in here in all his Sithy glory.

But still, they were literally on final approach now. So whatever his reservations were, he could stow ‘em or turn back… and if he turned back, he was likely in range of the Temple’s tractor beams. “Temple air control, this is Stalker, final approach to landing bay fourteen, please confirm all clear.”

A hiss and crackle, “All clear, Stalker. You’re free to proceed with landing.”

He tossed a look to his right, Rugess staring back at him. One look over his shoulder found Ventress doing the same.

“Show time,” he said, for lack of anything better to say.

The landing bay was one of the larger ones. The Jedi knew there would be two ships, so he had more than enough room to land two ships.

There were also people waiting for them.

Dennis didn’t even bother looking at who they were. Partly because it didn’t really matter who was there, partly because the Jedi had their robes on with their hoods up. 

He could hazard a guess that they all had a grip on their lightsabers too.

The ship lurched as it rested on its landing struts, and he untangled himself from the seat and harness, tapping Rugess on the shoulder. “Refuel, but keep it ready to move quick, just in case.” Normally, he wouldn’t need to be so paranoid with the Jedi, but over the long years in this galaxy he’d learned to trust that little voice in the back of his head when it said ‘Be ready.’

That little voice was outright screaming at him right now. 

Grabbing his blasters and some of his other goodies, he marched out. Ventress holstered her own sabers, and even her seldomly-used blaster, as she stepped up beside him. The entry ramp began to open up, giving them a path onto the platform and to the three waiting Jedi below. 

He stepped off the ramp, looking around, almost expecting to see a battalion of troopers about to fall on them like a ten ton sack of white armored bricks.

Luckily, no, no troopers in sight. As he fully stepped off the ramp, he finally managed to get a look at the Jedi waiting for them. 

“Obi-Wan!” Dennis almost sighed in relief. He liked Obi-Wan. Guy had a good, level head on his shoulders.

But as Dennis stepped closer, a further look told him he might have to reassess his initial opinion.

If Obi-Wan’s look had parahuman powers, then Maul’s ship would have probably burst into a spectacular fireball, with Maul still in it.

Before he even realized it, Dennis had settled his center of gravity a bit further back, spreading his stance as he came to a stop…

And his hand resting on the blaster by his hip. 

“So, not to sound like a total ass, but has it gotten to the point that I’ve got to remind the Jedi they do peace first, lightsabers second?” He paused for a second. “Or has Hebert really refined her sales pitch on her philosophy since I saw you last?”

One of the Jedi - a Whiphid that Dennis was pretty sure was named Krook or something -  spoke up. “Master Hebert’s philosophy?” 

“Bugs first, fire second, lightsaber third, peace maybe after six or seven.”

The half-joke at least got a snort of amusement from Obi-Wan.

But whatever tension had dissipated came right back when Maul’s own ship opened up its boarding ramp and tall, dark and Sithy marched out, lightsaber in hand, black robes catching in the wind and a feeling of hatred and barely repressed violence literally radiating off him like a heat haze.

Maul came to a stop. Dennis had stood in the same room with Black Sun, Exchange, Syndicate, and Hutt crime lords, all wanting to gun him down, and had felt in less danger than this.

Obi-Wan was the one to break the silence. “Can you be trusted to keep the peace while you’re in our halls, Maul?”

In a silence, thick, oppressive and heavy, Maul glared at Obi-Wan with burning yellow eyes. If his gaze had parahuman powers, Kenobi’s skin would have spontaneously flayed off his body right in front of him. 

Dennis leaned closer, half whispering a reminder to the Sith: “Your kids are in the Temple.” 

When Maul didn’t break eye contact with Kenobi, Dennis began to wonder if the man heard him at all. He was about to speak up again when, very abruptly, the Zabrak very slowly, but very obviously, holstered his lightsaber onto his belt hook. A moment more, and his hand equally slowly abandoned the cylinder. 

The other two Jedi beside Obi-Wan, the Whiphid and a black-bearded human Dennis didn’t know, stepped forward, giving Maul a very wide berth before standing behind the Zabrak like an escort, or armed guards. Three steps behind and two to either side of him.

Obi-Wan very deliberately turned his back, and Dennis could almost taste the bloodlust rolling off Maul. 

“Come along, then.” The Negotiator demanded before he began walking. 

Maul, quietly, followed. 

And Dennis felt like he could breathe again. 

Yeah… he never thought he’d see the day where he’d have preferred to play mediator between Lexi and Skitter, but here he was. 

Anakin

It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that Anakin broke several speeding laws to make it to the Council meeting practically in record time.

Just as well, too, because by the time he arrived the Council had already gathered. With so many people present they couldn’t properly fit them in the Council Chamber itself, but rather had gathered in the room of the Thousand Fountains, the whole chamber vacated by all others to allow them this space amidst the babbling waters of the ancient arcade.

There were, of course, the sixteen High Council members themselves, the other high ranking Masters that were the ‘contingency council’ in the event of catastrophe, but also some faces he certainly didn’t expect.

Senator Alexandria and Duchess Satine, Hannah and Aras as her bodyguards, and two of her aides that Anakin didn’t know personally. But also Bail Organa from Alderaan, Garm Bel Iblis from Corellia, Polo Se'lab from Bothawui and Mon Mothma from Chandrilla.

There were Dennis and Ventress who were also present, standing stiffly beside Alexandria, who had forsaken her usual black and purple robes for something that looked genuinely like a sort of battle armor. Anakin knew she had power like Victoria, though he didn’t know the specifics. But just that bit revealed more than enough about her intentions and what exactly was happening before even a single word had been exchanged. 

And even if that wasn’t enough of a clue there, alone and glowering at the world, even as he stared a burning hole straight at his Master, Obi-Wan, was Maul. 

His presence was a black, lead weight on everyone’s necks. Many of the Jedi Masters glared openly, and the senators each tossed the man a wary glance. Anakin gave a look at his Master who feigned utter indifference, with eyes closed and sitting serenely in his chair. 

He wondered who would break the awkward standoff first.

It just so happened to be Bail Organa. 

The Senator from Alderaan leaned forward in his seat before he seemed to find his courage and slowly stood up. “Masters Jedi… Senator Alexandria. I’m sure I’m not the only one here wondering what exactly this gathering is about. So if you might… elucidate?”

Anakin saw Alexandria’s features twitch lips turning down in the hint of a frown before she mastered it, which he knew to be an unusual display of emotion from her. But after a second, she settled back into her usual placid expression before turning to Yoda. “Grand Master, I believe you should open the conversation with the most pressing bit of information.”

“Hrm.” Yoda grunted before leaning forward. “Senators, as you know, searching we Jedi have been, for the identity of the Sith Master,” Pointedly, Yoda didn’t look at Maul, even though Anakin noticed a few of the senator aides tossing wary glances the man’s way. “Found, the Sith Master is.”

The senators and their aides began muttering amongst themselves, Iblis leaning forward. “And why hasn’t he been apprehended?”

Anakin ignored Maul’s derisive snort.

“We can’t.” Windu answered. “Not without the help of the Senate.”

“Help from the Senate?” Mothma seemed to balk, her eyes widening. “So the Sith is a senator, then.”

Anakin wasn’t sure who was going to correct her. But before he could, Bail Organa seemed to realize…

“The Chancellor isn’t here…” The Alderaanian muttered, and Anakin saw the Bothan senator’s ears perk up, his sudden alarm, like a klaxon in the Force, telling Anakin he figured it out.

Organa too, in his heart knew the truth, but even so, the man’s face was pained as he tried one more time. “Is the Sith in the Chancellor’s office?”

It was Taylor who finally cut through the guessing game, ‘ripping off the bandaid’ as she and Vicky would say. “The Sith is the Chancellor himself.”

The reaction was… predictable, shock and disbelief. Iblis seemed to be the first one to rally, leaning forward where he sat. “Do you have proof?”

It was Alexandria that answered, “We have fairly damning testimony.” She cast her eye sideways towards Maul. “Don’t we?”

It sounded more like a demand than a question.

The Zabrak snorted and began to pace, arms crossed and looking down his nose at all of them. “This is what you called me here for, smuggler? To give testimony on my Master’s identity? To do what then? Form a committee?” He sneered. 

“I find it hard to take the word of this… witness.” Organa said, the thin veneer of civility cracking “If this is all you have to offer then-”

“It isn’t.” Alexandria cut him off. “There is much, much more.” Emphasizing her point, she clicked a few keys on her datapad, transferring a datapacket to the senators’ own aides and devices which all of them quickly began to read through.

“The fact is,” The woman continued. “We needed overwhelming evidence to condemn him and silence his allies and sycophants in the Senate. All of this, combined with Maul’s testimony, will be more than enough.”

“You’re a fool.” Maul dismissed. “My Master will not surrender power because of your evidence.”

It was Windu who answered the former Sith apprentice.“That’s the idea.”

And that, Anakin saw, brought Maul up short.

Windu continued, expression flat, voice monotone. It was actually quite unnerving if Anakin was being honest. “This evidence will be presented to the Senate. That along with your testimony will be grounds enough to order the Chancellor to surrender the powers of his office pending a full independent investigation. When he resists… then we have free reign to act as needed.”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

Maul’s smile was a slow, cruel thing. “My my, Jedi. That almost sounds like an assassination.”

Tellingly, Windu didn’t answer.

“This sounds-” Mon Mothma squirmed where she sat. “-far too close to an outright coup, Master Jedi.”

“If the Sith has been in charge of the Republic and  the Separatists this entire time, then a coup is the most measured thing I can think of doing.” Iblis’ lips were curled back, his features twisting in rage as his eyes darted across his datapad, reading the bevy of evidence laid out in those files.

“You’re beginning to see why we could not act until now.” Master Billaba nodded. “Any aggressive move we made without this much evidence would have been perceived as something altogether more nefarious than bringing the hidden Sith to justice, and whatever contingencies he had in place for that eventuality would have been triggered outright.”

“Not to mention the clone troops still under Amidala’s control.” Se’lab pointed out. “I notice she isn’t here either. Is she in league with the Chancellor?”

“I will not believe that!” Organa answered hotly, glaring at the Bothan. “Padme is devoted to democracy and would never do anything like this.”

The gratitude the youngest Council member felt towards Organa would forever go unspoken. 

“Ten minutes ago, you likely would have said the same about the Chancellor.” Iblis shot back.

“For what it’s worth, Senator, I agree with you.” Alexandria cut in, nodding towards the Alderaanian. “I don’t believe Padme is involved either. But we could not be absolutely certain, especially regarding her staff.”

“A Jedi team has been dispatched to watch and secure Senator Amidala.” Master K’Khruk said.

“When was this!?” Anakin asked. “One of the Council should be with this team.” Preferably himself.

“Just before the meeting convened.” K’Khruk answered. “They are under strict orders to protect her in the event that Palpatine should attack, and to not harm her unless she proves to be some sort of threat herself. Once they reach her, the clone orders should not be a factor.”

“You should have killed her and been done with it.” Maul muttered, still pacing like a caged animal. Anakin suppressed his fury at the suggestion, keeping himself calm. 

“If she is not in league with Palpatine she’s innocent.” Adi Gallia glared at the Sith. “We Jedi do not kill innocents under any circumstances, let alone for expedience.”

“Killing is too far, but at the very least she should have been brought to the Temple and held securely.” Iblis stated.

“Imprisoned?” Bail shook his head. “She’s committed no crime.”

“She’s a risk!” The Corellian snapped.

Bail scoffed, his eyes closing as he counted back from ten to find his calm before looking towards Alexandria, forgoing continuing the argument. “You have some sort of plan for each of us, I take it?” He gestured towards each of the senators present.

The woman nodded. “Indeed. Organa, Mothma, between the two of you you have enough authority to call an emergency session of the Senate immediately. We can’t give him time to know we’re coming.” She gestured towards Satine. “Then the lady Duchess will present our findings and call forward the witness onto the senate floor. Removed from the workings of the Senate, her voice serves better than mine for swaying public opinion. Senator Iblis, Senator Se’lab, both of you have many allies within the Senate: Duro, Kuat, Ord Mantell. Present these findings to them all in private. The findings will spread like wildfire from there as the emergency session proceeds. It should be enough to rattle several senators into the emergency investigative vote that will remove Palpatine’s powers.”

“I will be going nowhere.” Maul suddenly said, and Anakin saw Alexandria round on the man, filled with hostile intent to force his compliance. “Not until my brothers and sisters are shown to me.”

“They’re safe.” Master Dallon said after a brief moment before she stood up, hands folded into her pale robes. “I can show you to them now.” She looked to the other members of the Council. “Are there objections?”

None protested. Anakin was fairly sure every Jedi present would rather see Maul removed from their presence forever, but they’d take what they could get. 

Vicky looked to Taylor, a whole conversation passing between the two of them through eye contact alone before Taylor nodded once and Vicky nodded back before she marched out of the meeting, Maul following behind her, and Dennis and Ventress following behind him.

“Two Jedi battlegroups will be joining you.” Windu declared. “Four hundred Jedi, led by myself and Master Yoda, and three thousand of our clones. One group will secure the Senate and make certain you are all safe, the other will go to secure the Chancellor and place him under arrest.”

Bail shifted, squirming uncomfortably. “Master Jedi... The optics of such a battle force-”

Windu, however, interrupted him. “I have been sitting here for nearly two months, held back by optics, Senator.” He answered flatly. “Its time for this to be over.”

—

Iskt

Iskt had to wonder, at least somewhat morosely, how he kept getting into these situations?

He was a Trandoshan, a fearsome predator species, already nearing the cusp of adulthood. He was already taller than Miss Vicky and even taller than Miss Taylor. 

With his parahuman, or ‘Para-Trandoshan ability, he was probably one of the strongest Jedi in the galaxy, if for no other reason that it was damn near impossible to kill him outside of some very specific countermeasures.

He’d faced down armies of droids, and even General Grievous without flinching.

And he was being used as a glorified jungle gym.

As if accentuating his internal monologue, a little boot stepped on his traps, the very enthusiastic Dathomiri child settling herself on his shoulders and grabbing hold of the ridges on his head, which were beginning to develop into the slight horn-like spines many of his species had when they reached adulthood. 

“Up!” The little girl commanded, legs swinging.

Iskt shot a very irritated glare that went entirely ignored by the very giggly Karla.

They, and by they he meant himself, a loose collection of Padawans and the Dathomiri children, were outside in some of the temple gardens, being watched over by three Crechemasters as they participated in some light contact sparring to give their guests some exercise and time outside. In truth, there were only a very small number of Jedi Padawans left on Coruscant. Including the ones here, maybe twenty in total. So, even though many of the Masters didn’t like having the Dathomirians interacting with Padawans, there wasn’t much choice, unless you wanted to make it obvious you were keeping others away and thus isolating them in the emotional sense, not just the physical. 

Cal was a few feet away apologizing to Merin for the hundredth time for managing to hit her in the head with his lightsaber set to stun. Needless to say, he’d won their bout. Karla was currently giggling at Iskt’s predicament as he’d mentioned before and he was pretty sure she wasn’t allowing anyone else to sense her because no one was approaching or calling for her to fight, and he himself was fighting with two of the older Dathomiri sisters, the oldest two, in fact. 

The ‘little sister’ wanted to participate… Master Beq hadn’t seen reason to discourage her.

So here he was, playing the role of walking battle tank to a… four? Was it four? Four-year-old. 

Reaching his feet, the little girl screamed in delight and pointed rather dramatically at her older sister. “Destroy!”

“Gee, thanks a lot, sister.” The older Dathomiri girl said with a very dry, unimpressed tone, pulling free her training weapon. It was a glorified stick with a handle and some repulsor fields so that the lightsabers wouldn’t cause damage. Not many Jedi Masters were willing to trust the ‘Brothers and Sisters’ with even low grade training sabers.

Still, Iskt put the thoughts out of his mind and let himself fall into the ‘role’ of combatant, grinning that needle toothed grin that Weber had told him would ‘scare the crap out of anyone who found you in a dark alley’. Being intimidating wasn’t particularly difficult, since he now measured well over two meters in height, towering above the smaller Dathomiri, and was ‘a hulking lizard’, but a little extra didn’t hurt.

The girl’s fighting stance was tense, nervous. Mission accomplished.

Of course, ruining his very carefully made image was the rather delighted little kick machine on his shoulders, still happily swinging her legs in anticipation of the fight. 

The girl struck first. That was one thing Iskt noticed very quickly about Dathomiri, brothers or sisters, they played aggressive. You didn’t have to wait long before they always made the first move.

He shunted aside her blow, his much greater strength making it easy to knock her weapon off its course, nearly throwing her completely off balance before she whirled around for another swing mid pivot.

His training blade was in the way, both weapons cracking together with a solid impact. His instincts and long years of fighting on the front told him a dozen ways he could hurt her. It was almost a reflex, a headbut to crack open her cheekbone, or a kick to the leg. With his heel it would shatter her thigh, with his claws it would cut, possibly into an artery. If he lunged, his fangs could bite down on her shoulder and start tearing.

It was… frightening in a way… realizing just what he’d learned. How incompatible it was with being a ‘good Jedi’.

He didn’t like it.

But for all his reflexes told him what he could do, he wasn’t an animal. He was Master Dallon’s Padawan and if she could control her strength, so could he. His hand reached out, ready to grab her, but the girl was fast enough to see it coming and pull away, avoiding his hand before she tried to swing at his limb to ‘cut it off’ as the rules dictated she would.

But he was the one to step forward instead. His large size often made people think he was slow.

She just found out he wasn’t nearly as slow as he liked others to think.

He stepped into her guard, too close for the blade to do much, and shoulder checked her, the broad side of his body hitting her like a ram. He felt the shocked ‘oof’ of the impact as the air left her in a whoosh.

She stumbled, body trying to find its balance before gravity proved stronger and she fell on her rump.

She tried to bring the stick up to defend herself, but he was still just that bit faster, training saber pointing down towards her neck before she was halfway back on guard.

She glared at him, not looking at all graceful or pleased with her loss by any stretch. In fact, her lip was curling in a displeased sneer, so was her other ‘older sister’s’, or at least Iskt assumed the other girl still waiting for her turn was older. It was always hard to tell age with other species.

The only one who did seem pleased was the little limpet holding onto the ridges of his head. “We win!” She cried triumphantly.

“We is a lot of people.” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

“You’re absolutely right.” Karla said somewhere behind him, very unhelpfully, “She gets all the credit!”

He shot her an unimpressed glare that was wholly lost on the little limpet who cried a very joyful “Again! Again!”

He felt a cold settle on him and a split second later Karla felt it too, the smile dimming from her eyes and vanishing from her face before she, for all intents and purposes, disappeared to every one of his senses. Even when physically staring at her, it was like his mind was telling him she wasn’t there.

She was getting far too good at that.

He saw several of the others, the Dathomiri especially, stop, eyes wide, gasps and quick lunges to reach their feet from wherever they’d been sitting.

Iskt turned around.

He’d barely seen the man above Yavin, but Maul wasn't exactly a face you forgot. 

“Brother!” One of the Dathomiri cried and like a tide, many of them rushed forward.

They stopped, just short of reaching the man, and all of the boys and some of the younger girls offered respectful bows.

Maul, for his part, stared at each of the children as if counting them, or taking it all in. Iskt could sense his disbelief and relief, oddly enough. Odd only because it was a Sith feeling it. 

“You’re alive.” The words slipped out of Maul as though he didn’t quite believe them. “How did you get here? What happened to Savage?” He asked, kneeling in front of the collection of other Dathomirians. 

As his brothers and sisters began to explain, Iskt set down the littlest one beside Merrin before heading over towards his Master, who stood just a little off to the side with Mr. Dennis and Ventress. She of course was now talking, or whispering, with Master Beq.

“He is a Sith, he should not be here, much less in front of the children.” The Crechemaster evidently was not happy. 

“Not my call.” His Master answered. “The Council is striking a deal with him.”

“You’re part of the Council.” Beq reminded pointedly. His Master winced as though being reminded of that fact was particularly inconvenient right now. 

“Its not just my call.” She amended. “We have a deal, and the Jedi don’t kidnap kids from people who don’t want to give them up.”

Now Master Beq looked downright apoplectic. “You expect us to surrender these children to him?”

“That’s what you will do, Jedi.” Maul’s voice was a wrathful thing, and seethed with the barely contained promise of violence. Master Beq turned, glaring back at him with a baleful look as the Sith stood up. “Go.” He commanded, “Gather your things. We will leave.”

The Night Brothers and Sisters all gave their own nods, some more haltingly than others before they turned and left to obey, Merrin taking the littlest one by the hand to tug her along.

“You won't be going anywhere till this thing with the Senate is done.” His Master declared, eyeing the man coldly. “That’s the agreement.”

Maul’s answering smile was all savage mockery and delighted cruelty. “Holding children hostage now, Jedi?” He shook his head. “My, you look more and more like my Master by the minute.”

His master shut her eyes, visibly doing that thing where she counted backwards from ten. 

“I must object to this.” Beq cut in as the other Crechemasters began to herd the other Padawans away. “Can I speak with the others of the Council?”

His Master's eyes snapped open. “Yeah, let’s make it quick.” She looked to Iskt this time. “I’ll be back.” She declared and then gestured. “If he becomes a problem… handle him.”

Iskt nodded.

“You underestimate me, Jedi.”

“No.” His Masters smile was little better than a sneer. “I’ve got you pegged perfectly.” She turned away, addressing Mr. Dennis as she started leading Beq back to the Council. “You too, kneecap his ass if it becomes an issue.”

“Hebert diplomacy at its finest.” Mr. Dennis sardonically declared. His gun’s holster, however, was loose for a quickdraw.

Iskt watched her go, then turned his reptile eyes onto this latest… issue.

Maul watched him, amused. “You would fight me, boy?”

Iskt let himself smile back, and there was nothing nice or kind in that fang mawed display. “Nah. I’d beat you, Sith.”

Maul snorted, then turned his gaze a little bit, as though he heard something.

“Put that lightsaber away, Twi’lek, unless you’d like me to feed it to you.”

To Iskt’s eyes, as though appearing from thin air, Karla sat on a bench behind the Zabrak, her lightsaber hilt twirling in her hand. 

“Sorry.” She answered with a fang toothed smile of her own. “I like to fiddle with it when I’m bored…”

She kept on twirling it.