Free at Last (OMFG updated 10/21?!)
Posted: 2005-07-06 04:13pm
So, I got bored one day, and decided to throw this together. Please, comment!
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Yoda Goes Apeshit on Palpatine
”Why is there a Jedi Order?” This is a question asked by many padawans over the years, concerned about our induction of younglings at a young age, and their seeming indoctrination into Order ways. These padawans certainly go on to be fine Jedi; and, indeed, a few of them sit on this Council.
We shall therefore answer this question. The Jedi Order is an order of brothers and sisters dedicated to each other and to keeping peace and order in the Galactic Republic.
The latter goal of this Order is obvious, and is the purpose of the Order -- as far as outsiders are concerned; for how else would we use these powers the Force has given us?
The former goal is subtler, and often evades even Masters. Why should we dedicate ourselves to ourselves? It seems redundant, does it not? It is, in fact, obvious: the Dark Side.
We all know the evils of the Dark Side. From teh very first day a youngling feels the Force, feels it flowing through him, tastes the power of the Force, the Dark Side is there, singing its sweet song of passion.
This is why the Order exists: a group dedicated to each other, to keep each other from the Dark Side. This is why we have foresworn all possessions, all passion and love, all external contact beyond that which is required in our capacity as protectors of the Galactic Republic: such tangles are objects of passion, pathways to the Dark Side.
In fact, our roles as protectors stem from our obligation and duty to the Light Side of the Force: the power of truth, peace, and justice. Just as a Jedi cannot exist in peace without an Order to protect him from the Dark Side of teh Force, so a Jedi Order cannot exist in peace amid a galaxy of chaos and war; such disruption shall, inevitably, distract the Order, and participation in a partisan conflict will divide the Order, causing individual Jedi to fall to the Dark Side.
That is the purpose of the Jedi Order: to keep ourselves from the evil of the Dark Side of the Force.
~Jedi Council Bull 17829, 9876 years before Alderaan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Palpatine, newly crowned Emperor, sat in his office beneath the Senate chamber, supremely pleased with himself. Once more, the Sith ruled the galaxy: their rightful place. He half-touched his wrecked face; it had not come wihtout a price: there was still the occasional twinge of pain, even days after his own lightning had been turned back on him. But then, he reminded himself, nothing comes without a price. And this particular prize was worth the wrecked face: an unquestioning apprentice, powerful and blind to his own ambition. Love is the most powerful force in the universe, Palpatine thought, and chuckled to himself. Any force could be diverted, given the proper leverage, and Palpatine had diverted young Skywalker’s love perfectly: the boy was devoted to him, the shackles of his love for Padme tighter than ever. The child was the cement binding Skywalker to Palpatine.
Of course, there was only one thing Palpatine loved, and that was sheer, unadelturated, pure POWER. And he had it, with no restrictions, and no strings attached. I now, he thought, possess the power to order 18 octillion lives as I desire. No Jedi remained to hinder him, and he could relax, the constant, low-level strain of clouding their prescience, hiding himself, was over for good.
Mas Amedda, his assistant, had just said something. Palpatine cast about in his memory, and replied. “Excellent. Have teh deactivated droids incinerated. I don’t want a single one left.”
“My lord, the commission for the new prototype to be constructed. Bevel Lemelik has just submitted them, and --”
“Hand them to me.” Amedda produced a holopad, and Palpatine bent over, concentrating on the text.
Perhaps it was because he was concentrating on the commission, or perhaps it was because he believed there was no threat from that quarter, or perhaps it was just because he was taking a much-anticipated break from the constant, Force-centred vigilance he had exercised for the past thirty years; in any case, Palpatine did not notice the Force locus approaching, gathering strength outside his office.
The first thing he was aware of was an eruption in the Force at the door, smooth and well-practiced. The two red-garbed Imperial bodyguards lifted against the wall and crumpled, unconscious or dead -- Palpatine did not bother to check. His head snapped up in surprise, and, drawing on his sudden anger at this surprise intrusion, he felt the Dark Side flow through him. But he did not give in to it, not yet.
As Palpatine swiveled his chair, suddenly alert, Yoda spoke, keeping the anger from hi voice, as befitted a Jedi Master. “I hear a new apprentice you have, Emperor; or, should I say, Darth Sidious.” It was an accusation, indictment, verdict, and sentencing rolled into one sentence.
But Yoda was thinking: Calm, I must remain: my strength flows from peace and calm. It was a refrain to which he clung, drowning out all other emotions which threatened his equilibrium, threatened to push him unwillingly to the Dark Sie. Memories of his friends, colleagues, fellow Jedi, floated by his mind’s eye, and were savagely suppressed. Focused, I must remain. One task to be done.
“Master Yoda. You survived.” There was no surprise in the Sith Lord’s voice. Underestimate him, I must not. Palpatine rose, looming above his desk like a belligerent thundercloud.
“Your arrogance blinds you, Master Yoda. Now you will experience the full power of the Dark Side.” He raised his hands, and Yoda tensed, calming his mind, and drawing on the Force, as he had done countless times before, and as the lightning arced toward him, he cleared his mind and extended his tridactyl hands --
It came too fast.
The next thing Yoda remembered, he was lying on the floor in a crumpled heap, agony fading slowly. The first thing he felt was surprise: Stronger than I expected, this Sith Lord is! Then fear (Underestimated him, have I?), then anger: How could I have done this? Prepared, everthing was -- then, with a mental start, he realized the path he had been following: “Fear leads to anger; anger to hate...” In less than a second, he had regained his calm, and was bringing still-twitching muscles under control. The pain was bearable. He opened his eyes, and as if from a long way off, he heard Palpatine chuckling and approaching.
“I have waited a long time for this, my...little green friend.” The Emperor drew the words out, savoring them. “At last, the Jedi are no more.” Then he stopped, and, for an instant, gawked: Yoda was drawing himself to his feet, letting the Force flow through him, suppressing the unwanted memories and emotions: The time for mourning, now is not..
Sudden fear seized Palpatine, and he took a hesitant step. Yoda confirmed it. “Not if anything I have to say about it, Lord Sidious.” The Force surged through Yoda, and, before he could react, Palpatine was thrown back across the room, breath crushed out of him by the force of Yoda’s push. The Jedi slowly advanced on the Sith. “At an end your rule is, and not short enough it was, I must say.”
The Sith Lord, without bothering to regain his feet, flew up into the air, black cape flapping, toward the door. Yoda thought, Now!, and hurled himself into the doorway. Sidious landed, poised for flight, and Yoda stood in the only exit from the room. He took his lightsabre from his belt. “If so powerful you are, why leave?”
The lightsabre ignited with a snap-hiss, bursting into a short emerald blade.
Grinning, giving himself over to his battle joy, Sidious dropped the sabre from his sleeve, igniting it into the long, blood-red blade. “You will not stop me. Darth Vader will become more powerful than either of us!”
Yoda spoke, bouncing in anticipation of the conflict. “Faith in your new apprentice, misplaced may be, as is your faith in the Dark Side of the Force!” Yoda launched himself at Palpatine, blade spinning. With a crackle, they met, and then it was chaos, Yoda spinning, bounding offof the platform in the middle of the room, using every ounce of his strength and agility to counter the Emperor’s superior reach.
The two were almost evenly matched. Almost. But Yoda’s agility gave him a hair’s breadth edge, though he was still aching from the lightning.
I need space to maneuver! If I can last...I can! Palpatine leapt into the Chancellor’s platform, activating the lift, and it began to rise.
Yoda leapt after him, pressing the attack. For several minutes, as the pod rose into the vast empty Senate chamber, they fought evenly. Yoda fought an internal battle as well as an external one. Calm! Calm! Time for mourning there will be later! He had seen friends pass away before, had been at their deathbeds; never before had all of his friends, been killed by a mass murderer’s command. This was something entirely new. Never, in his 857 years in the Jedi Order, had Yoda encountered any training for a cataclysm of this magnitude.
Before, if there were problems, he took it to the Council. Now, there was no Council. Before, if on a particular day, the Dark Side seemed more seductive, he could talk about it, could seek counseling. Now, he was alone. Alone. The word rang through is mind as he very nearly gave in to his rage; the edge of his hatred, desiring revenge, gave him enough strength to launch a ferocious assault.
Palpatine was pushed backward to the edge of the precipice, and for an instant, as they locked sabres, Palpatine nearly fell.
Instead, his sabre fell, and Palpatine jumped away; Yoda jumped to follow, reminding himself: Flirting with the Dark Side I have been! Go there, I must not. Dispassionate I will remain.
But the Emperor turned, raised his hands, and unleashed a stream of lightning. It pushed Yoda back to the edge, but there he held his ground, and the bolts arcing away from his sabre blade began to slowly curve back to their origin.
Through the crackle of lightning bolts, Yoda grated, “Destroy you I will, just as Master Kenobi your apprentice will destroy.”
With a snarl, Sidious broke off the lightning, and leapt up to a high Senate pod. Yoda jumped to a lower one, pursuing. Laughing, caught up in the battle-joy that was the source of his strength, coupled with hatred, Sidious raised a hand. A pod ponderously snapped loose in a flurry of sparks, and accelerated toward the Jedi Master. Yoda dodged, leaping from platform to platform as the Sith Lord hurled them.
At last, he stopped, and caught one, slowly spinning it; suddenly, it flew back up at Palpatine. Caught in mid laugh, Palpatine jumped away, and Yoda was already pursuing, but Palpatine was ready.
Yoda was caught by surprise, and for a slow instant as he gathered his strength from his vast calm, fera gnawed at him, and pain. He felt his lightsabre sliding from his grasp, could hear the hiss of the deactivation as it fell. The lightning was as severe as the first blast to hit him, but Yoda was prepared: the Light Side flowed through him, absorbing the vile Dark Side lightning; but more piled on the barrier Yoda was building than was absorbed, and for an instant, a detached portion of Yoda’s mind dispassionately observed, This the shortcoming of the Light Side is: stability it provides, but not power, and power it is I now need.
Of course, Yoda squashed the thought, but a doubt remained, lingering, gnawing at his concentration. Yoda focused on the barrier, strengthening it over the protests of his aching muscles, pushing forward, until it reached a breaking point.
Palpatine was thrown back to the edge of the pod, and over, saved from the fall by the railing he grasped at the last minute, still laughing. Yoda, already on the edge, had no such luck: he was hurled out into space. Frantically, he pushed down with the Force, but it was not enough to stop him, only slowing him, and he landed, with an almost spine-shattering impact, on the Chancellor’s podium.
Before he could regain his footing, he was sliding, and then his body was over the edge, only one hand hanging on; the claws slowly screeched on metal, and then he was falling again, looking up, seeing the Senate, the symbol of the Galactic Republic, now the nest of a Sith Emperor, looming above him. He hit the floor, then, and for a moment, lay there, stunned. For the first time in over 800 years, Yoda tasted failure.
It was bitter, pervading his entire sense of being. And, with the failure, came the fear, and the anger. Failed, I have! The one thing to which Yoda had dedicated 853 years of his life, the one thing it could be said he loved, the sole holder of his allegiance, has gone. Gone because of him. The Republic was no more.
In an eyeblink, the fear and self-loathing snapped into rage like the release of a taut rubber band. He tried to calm himself, but the serenity would not come. Images of his friends, fellow masters, rose unbidden: Mace Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Ayala, Anakin... then, coupled with those, came the memory of the disturbance in the Force heralding their deaths: caming one-by-one, slowly, then faster, in a rising tide of surprise, fear, betrayal, and, finally, despair.
And still, the calm would not come. Why can I not peace achieve? he asked himself. But, as he asked it, he knew the answer: the Dark Side was calling him, calling him through his emotional chaos, calling him to command, rather than submit.
Can the Light Side Lord Sidious defeat?
Aye, there was the question. Could the Light Side defeat the Dark Side? For a thousand years and more, the general consensus had been “yes!” But there had been no tests, and Yoda found himself wondering... Perhaps only fire can fire defeat.
Still the Dark Side called him, and more thoughts rose unbidden. Only through the Dark Side can the Republic be restored.
Give in to your anger; anger gives you power, revenge gives you focus!
Why must you use your passions to gain power? Are they not put to better use restoring power to where it belongs?
Yoda picked himself up, shaking his head. Give in I must not! And yet, which is the greater evil: the Dark Side, or the Sith who rules the Republic?
Loyalty bought by 853 years of service does not die lightly. Neither does 853 years of indoctrination. But, in the end, all sentient beings are creatures of emotion.
A squad of clone troopers floated in front of Palpatine and Amedda’s pod. “No sign of him, sir.”
“If there is no sign of him,” chimed in Mas Amedda, “then he is still alive.”
“Redouble your efforts,” ordered Palpatine. As it turns out, it wasn’t necessary.
Five senate pods tore from their moorings, three above, two below. Before the clone troopers had time to react, they were crushed between two of the flying pods. Amedda was killed by the other three; only Palpatine leapt away in time, giving himself again to the battle joy. But doubt gnawed at him -- Where did that come from? Why did I not see it coming?
His questions were answered a second later. “Lord Sidious,” a voice echoed across the chamber, “die now you will!”
A green streak shot up through the Senate, and Palpatine dropped his lightsabre out of his sleeve (It had been recovered and returned), ready for combat.
Yoda had found his green lightsabre amid the wreckage, and now, he gave himself over to revenge. With a hoarse, unnatural yell, he hurled himself at Palpatine.
Their clash was so violent, the initial strike sent both lightsabres flying again, but Palpatine reacted almost immediately; he raised his hands, and lightning crackled from his fingertips.
Yoda did not respond as Palpatine expected. Electric blue lightning arced from his tridactyl hands.
The two attacks met in the center of the pod, throwing the Sith Lord and the Jedi Master back to the edges. Both held the lightning. Give in, I will not! shouted Yoda silently. Give in , I CAN not!
As they continued to hold it, the strain building, lightning filled the air, building on itself, flying out, until massive bolts shot from pod to pod, arcing through the Senate chamber, bright blue against a darker background, wildly seeking ground.
In the center of the storm, Yoda fought against his own aching muscles, fought against the involuntary twitching -- but gave himself to his emotions, surrendering; and, indeed, as he had earlier suspected, the Dark Side gave him power. Power! He could feel his strength doubling, tripling even, with each passing moment. He screamed, could not hear his own voice over the howling of the lightning, enormous claps of thunder from the gigantic bolts flying. And he pushed the middle, the point of contest where his lightning met Palpatine’s, back, inch by hard-fought inch, back, until Palpatine’s hands were little more than held up against the onslaught like paper ships before a hurricane.
Palpatine had lost his smile, and his eyes were wide, pleading, shaking. Yoda’s lips curved into a grim smile, and he said quietly, “For the Jedi Order, this is.”
A final effort , and suddenly, the lightning storm engulfing the Senate chamber collapsed on itself, falling back in onto Palpatine, and there was a massive thunderclap.
Yoda sat back, exhausted, but enormously pleased with himself. Palpatine was gone. Saved the Republic, I have, he thought, then: But at what cost?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yoda Goes Apeshit on Palpatine
”Why is there a Jedi Order?” This is a question asked by many padawans over the years, concerned about our induction of younglings at a young age, and their seeming indoctrination into Order ways. These padawans certainly go on to be fine Jedi; and, indeed, a few of them sit on this Council.
We shall therefore answer this question. The Jedi Order is an order of brothers and sisters dedicated to each other and to keeping peace and order in the Galactic Republic.
The latter goal of this Order is obvious, and is the purpose of the Order -- as far as outsiders are concerned; for how else would we use these powers the Force has given us?
The former goal is subtler, and often evades even Masters. Why should we dedicate ourselves to ourselves? It seems redundant, does it not? It is, in fact, obvious: the Dark Side.
We all know the evils of the Dark Side. From teh very first day a youngling feels the Force, feels it flowing through him, tastes the power of the Force, the Dark Side is there, singing its sweet song of passion.
This is why the Order exists: a group dedicated to each other, to keep each other from the Dark Side. This is why we have foresworn all possessions, all passion and love, all external contact beyond that which is required in our capacity as protectors of the Galactic Republic: such tangles are objects of passion, pathways to the Dark Side.
In fact, our roles as protectors stem from our obligation and duty to the Light Side of the Force: the power of truth, peace, and justice. Just as a Jedi cannot exist in peace without an Order to protect him from the Dark Side of teh Force, so a Jedi Order cannot exist in peace amid a galaxy of chaos and war; such disruption shall, inevitably, distract the Order, and participation in a partisan conflict will divide the Order, causing individual Jedi to fall to the Dark Side.
That is the purpose of the Jedi Order: to keep ourselves from the evil of the Dark Side of the Force.
~Jedi Council Bull 17829, 9876 years before Alderaan
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Palpatine, newly crowned Emperor, sat in his office beneath the Senate chamber, supremely pleased with himself. Once more, the Sith ruled the galaxy: their rightful place. He half-touched his wrecked face; it had not come wihtout a price: there was still the occasional twinge of pain, even days after his own lightning had been turned back on him. But then, he reminded himself, nothing comes without a price. And this particular prize was worth the wrecked face: an unquestioning apprentice, powerful and blind to his own ambition. Love is the most powerful force in the universe, Palpatine thought, and chuckled to himself. Any force could be diverted, given the proper leverage, and Palpatine had diverted young Skywalker’s love perfectly: the boy was devoted to him, the shackles of his love for Padme tighter than ever. The child was the cement binding Skywalker to Palpatine.
Of course, there was only one thing Palpatine loved, and that was sheer, unadelturated, pure POWER. And he had it, with no restrictions, and no strings attached. I now, he thought, possess the power to order 18 octillion lives as I desire. No Jedi remained to hinder him, and he could relax, the constant, low-level strain of clouding their prescience, hiding himself, was over for good.
Mas Amedda, his assistant, had just said something. Palpatine cast about in his memory, and replied. “Excellent. Have teh deactivated droids incinerated. I don’t want a single one left.”
“My lord, the commission for the new prototype to be constructed. Bevel Lemelik has just submitted them, and --”
“Hand them to me.” Amedda produced a holopad, and Palpatine bent over, concentrating on the text.
Perhaps it was because he was concentrating on the commission, or perhaps it was because he believed there was no threat from that quarter, or perhaps it was just because he was taking a much-anticipated break from the constant, Force-centred vigilance he had exercised for the past thirty years; in any case, Palpatine did not notice the Force locus approaching, gathering strength outside his office.
The first thing he was aware of was an eruption in the Force at the door, smooth and well-practiced. The two red-garbed Imperial bodyguards lifted against the wall and crumpled, unconscious or dead -- Palpatine did not bother to check. His head snapped up in surprise, and, drawing on his sudden anger at this surprise intrusion, he felt the Dark Side flow through him. But he did not give in to it, not yet.
As Palpatine swiveled his chair, suddenly alert, Yoda spoke, keeping the anger from hi voice, as befitted a Jedi Master. “I hear a new apprentice you have, Emperor; or, should I say, Darth Sidious.” It was an accusation, indictment, verdict, and sentencing rolled into one sentence.
But Yoda was thinking: Calm, I must remain: my strength flows from peace and calm. It was a refrain to which he clung, drowning out all other emotions which threatened his equilibrium, threatened to push him unwillingly to the Dark Sie. Memories of his friends, colleagues, fellow Jedi, floated by his mind’s eye, and were savagely suppressed. Focused, I must remain. One task to be done.
“Master Yoda. You survived.” There was no surprise in the Sith Lord’s voice. Underestimate him, I must not. Palpatine rose, looming above his desk like a belligerent thundercloud.
“Your arrogance blinds you, Master Yoda. Now you will experience the full power of the Dark Side.” He raised his hands, and Yoda tensed, calming his mind, and drawing on the Force, as he had done countless times before, and as the lightning arced toward him, he cleared his mind and extended his tridactyl hands --
It came too fast.
The next thing Yoda remembered, he was lying on the floor in a crumpled heap, agony fading slowly. The first thing he felt was surprise: Stronger than I expected, this Sith Lord is! Then fear (Underestimated him, have I?), then anger: How could I have done this? Prepared, everthing was -- then, with a mental start, he realized the path he had been following: “Fear leads to anger; anger to hate...” In less than a second, he had regained his calm, and was bringing still-twitching muscles under control. The pain was bearable. He opened his eyes, and as if from a long way off, he heard Palpatine chuckling and approaching.
“I have waited a long time for this, my...little green friend.” The Emperor drew the words out, savoring them. “At last, the Jedi are no more.” Then he stopped, and, for an instant, gawked: Yoda was drawing himself to his feet, letting the Force flow through him, suppressing the unwanted memories and emotions: The time for mourning, now is not..
Sudden fear seized Palpatine, and he took a hesitant step. Yoda confirmed it. “Not if anything I have to say about it, Lord Sidious.” The Force surged through Yoda, and, before he could react, Palpatine was thrown back across the room, breath crushed out of him by the force of Yoda’s push. The Jedi slowly advanced on the Sith. “At an end your rule is, and not short enough it was, I must say.”
The Sith Lord, without bothering to regain his feet, flew up into the air, black cape flapping, toward the door. Yoda thought, Now!, and hurled himself into the doorway. Sidious landed, poised for flight, and Yoda stood in the only exit from the room. He took his lightsabre from his belt. “If so powerful you are, why leave?”
The lightsabre ignited with a snap-hiss, bursting into a short emerald blade.
Grinning, giving himself over to his battle joy, Sidious dropped the sabre from his sleeve, igniting it into the long, blood-red blade. “You will not stop me. Darth Vader will become more powerful than either of us!”
Yoda spoke, bouncing in anticipation of the conflict. “Faith in your new apprentice, misplaced may be, as is your faith in the Dark Side of the Force!” Yoda launched himself at Palpatine, blade spinning. With a crackle, they met, and then it was chaos, Yoda spinning, bounding offof the platform in the middle of the room, using every ounce of his strength and agility to counter the Emperor’s superior reach.
The two were almost evenly matched. Almost. But Yoda’s agility gave him a hair’s breadth edge, though he was still aching from the lightning.
I need space to maneuver! If I can last...I can! Palpatine leapt into the Chancellor’s platform, activating the lift, and it began to rise.
Yoda leapt after him, pressing the attack. For several minutes, as the pod rose into the vast empty Senate chamber, they fought evenly. Yoda fought an internal battle as well as an external one. Calm! Calm! Time for mourning there will be later! He had seen friends pass away before, had been at their deathbeds; never before had all of his friends, been killed by a mass murderer’s command. This was something entirely new. Never, in his 857 years in the Jedi Order, had Yoda encountered any training for a cataclysm of this magnitude.
Before, if there were problems, he took it to the Council. Now, there was no Council. Before, if on a particular day, the Dark Side seemed more seductive, he could talk about it, could seek counseling. Now, he was alone. Alone. The word rang through is mind as he very nearly gave in to his rage; the edge of his hatred, desiring revenge, gave him enough strength to launch a ferocious assault.
Palpatine was pushed backward to the edge of the precipice, and for an instant, as they locked sabres, Palpatine nearly fell.
Instead, his sabre fell, and Palpatine jumped away; Yoda jumped to follow, reminding himself: Flirting with the Dark Side I have been! Go there, I must not. Dispassionate I will remain.
But the Emperor turned, raised his hands, and unleashed a stream of lightning. It pushed Yoda back to the edge, but there he held his ground, and the bolts arcing away from his sabre blade began to slowly curve back to their origin.
Through the crackle of lightning bolts, Yoda grated, “Destroy you I will, just as Master Kenobi your apprentice will destroy.”
With a snarl, Sidious broke off the lightning, and leapt up to a high Senate pod. Yoda jumped to a lower one, pursuing. Laughing, caught up in the battle-joy that was the source of his strength, coupled with hatred, Sidious raised a hand. A pod ponderously snapped loose in a flurry of sparks, and accelerated toward the Jedi Master. Yoda dodged, leaping from platform to platform as the Sith Lord hurled them.
At last, he stopped, and caught one, slowly spinning it; suddenly, it flew back up at Palpatine. Caught in mid laugh, Palpatine jumped away, and Yoda was already pursuing, but Palpatine was ready.
Yoda was caught by surprise, and for a slow instant as he gathered his strength from his vast calm, fera gnawed at him, and pain. He felt his lightsabre sliding from his grasp, could hear the hiss of the deactivation as it fell. The lightning was as severe as the first blast to hit him, but Yoda was prepared: the Light Side flowed through him, absorbing the vile Dark Side lightning; but more piled on the barrier Yoda was building than was absorbed, and for an instant, a detached portion of Yoda’s mind dispassionately observed, This the shortcoming of the Light Side is: stability it provides, but not power, and power it is I now need.
Of course, Yoda squashed the thought, but a doubt remained, lingering, gnawing at his concentration. Yoda focused on the barrier, strengthening it over the protests of his aching muscles, pushing forward, until it reached a breaking point.
Palpatine was thrown back to the edge of the pod, and over, saved from the fall by the railing he grasped at the last minute, still laughing. Yoda, already on the edge, had no such luck: he was hurled out into space. Frantically, he pushed down with the Force, but it was not enough to stop him, only slowing him, and he landed, with an almost spine-shattering impact, on the Chancellor’s podium.
Before he could regain his footing, he was sliding, and then his body was over the edge, only one hand hanging on; the claws slowly screeched on metal, and then he was falling again, looking up, seeing the Senate, the symbol of the Galactic Republic, now the nest of a Sith Emperor, looming above him. He hit the floor, then, and for a moment, lay there, stunned. For the first time in over 800 years, Yoda tasted failure.
It was bitter, pervading his entire sense of being. And, with the failure, came the fear, and the anger. Failed, I have! The one thing to which Yoda had dedicated 853 years of his life, the one thing it could be said he loved, the sole holder of his allegiance, has gone. Gone because of him. The Republic was no more.
In an eyeblink, the fear and self-loathing snapped into rage like the release of a taut rubber band. He tried to calm himself, but the serenity would not come. Images of his friends, fellow masters, rose unbidden: Mace Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Ayala, Anakin... then, coupled with those, came the memory of the disturbance in the Force heralding their deaths: caming one-by-one, slowly, then faster, in a rising tide of surprise, fear, betrayal, and, finally, despair.
And still, the calm would not come. Why can I not peace achieve? he asked himself. But, as he asked it, he knew the answer: the Dark Side was calling him, calling him through his emotional chaos, calling him to command, rather than submit.
Can the Light Side Lord Sidious defeat?
Aye, there was the question. Could the Light Side defeat the Dark Side? For a thousand years and more, the general consensus had been “yes!” But there had been no tests, and Yoda found himself wondering... Perhaps only fire can fire defeat.
Still the Dark Side called him, and more thoughts rose unbidden. Only through the Dark Side can the Republic be restored.
Give in to your anger; anger gives you power, revenge gives you focus!
Why must you use your passions to gain power? Are they not put to better use restoring power to where it belongs?
Yoda picked himself up, shaking his head. Give in I must not! And yet, which is the greater evil: the Dark Side, or the Sith who rules the Republic?
Loyalty bought by 853 years of service does not die lightly. Neither does 853 years of indoctrination. But, in the end, all sentient beings are creatures of emotion.
A squad of clone troopers floated in front of Palpatine and Amedda’s pod. “No sign of him, sir.”
“If there is no sign of him,” chimed in Mas Amedda, “then he is still alive.”
“Redouble your efforts,” ordered Palpatine. As it turns out, it wasn’t necessary.
Five senate pods tore from their moorings, three above, two below. Before the clone troopers had time to react, they were crushed between two of the flying pods. Amedda was killed by the other three; only Palpatine leapt away in time, giving himself again to the battle joy. But doubt gnawed at him -- Where did that come from? Why did I not see it coming?
His questions were answered a second later. “Lord Sidious,” a voice echoed across the chamber, “die now you will!”
A green streak shot up through the Senate, and Palpatine dropped his lightsabre out of his sleeve (It had been recovered and returned), ready for combat.
Yoda had found his green lightsabre amid the wreckage, and now, he gave himself over to revenge. With a hoarse, unnatural yell, he hurled himself at Palpatine.
Their clash was so violent, the initial strike sent both lightsabres flying again, but Palpatine reacted almost immediately; he raised his hands, and lightning crackled from his fingertips.
Yoda did not respond as Palpatine expected. Electric blue lightning arced from his tridactyl hands.
The two attacks met in the center of the pod, throwing the Sith Lord and the Jedi Master back to the edges. Both held the lightning. Give in, I will not! shouted Yoda silently. Give in , I CAN not!
As they continued to hold it, the strain building, lightning filled the air, building on itself, flying out, until massive bolts shot from pod to pod, arcing through the Senate chamber, bright blue against a darker background, wildly seeking ground.
In the center of the storm, Yoda fought against his own aching muscles, fought against the involuntary twitching -- but gave himself to his emotions, surrendering; and, indeed, as he had earlier suspected, the Dark Side gave him power. Power! He could feel his strength doubling, tripling even, with each passing moment. He screamed, could not hear his own voice over the howling of the lightning, enormous claps of thunder from the gigantic bolts flying. And he pushed the middle, the point of contest where his lightning met Palpatine’s, back, inch by hard-fought inch, back, until Palpatine’s hands were little more than held up against the onslaught like paper ships before a hurricane.
Palpatine had lost his smile, and his eyes were wide, pleading, shaking. Yoda’s lips curved into a grim smile, and he said quietly, “For the Jedi Order, this is.”
A final effort , and suddenly, the lightning storm engulfing the Senate chamber collapsed on itself, falling back in onto Palpatine, and there was a massive thunderclap.
Yoda sat back, exhausted, but enormously pleased with himself. Palpatine was gone. Saved the Republic, I have, he thought, then: But at what cost?
