Star Wars: Rise of the Machines (To Chapter 10)

[Battlehymn Republic]

Beautiful. I eagerly await for the next installment. It would be lame if no one believes Grievous, though.

[Chris OFarrell]

Yeah, I'm going to have to go with Chewbacca here.

Oh SNAP!

Charming. Grevious now has a picture of Kenobi and Skywalker staring at him, dumb with utter shock and disbelief. Now he just has to find a way to get it to the Huts and make a deal for licensing rights and the Confederates cash problems are over!

[Stuart Mackey]

Oh, damn thats good good work!
Post more.

[Spice Runner]

Hot. The truth is out. Grievious is seriously awesome.

[Darth Fanboy]

I do like the cold and caluculating side of Greivous that I think gets missed a bit in RoTS, what with the saber collecting and his insistence on dueling Obi Wan on Utapau.

I have high hopes for where this fic is going.

[NecronLord]

Chapter 4: The Nine Words

Nine words, spoken in three seconds by a harried ‘droid changed the galaxy for ten thousand years; – more.

In the same movement, their author pressed a single key. Spreading out so fast that no starship, no projectile, only precognition could conceivably outrace it, a ripple of change spread. Spoken words and written commands.

The strategic and policy directive, from the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies, and Head of State of the Confederacy of Independent Systems was expressly beyond the ability of the Confederacy’s ruling council to override, a feature Count Dooku had insisted on in private meetings, assuring each potentially fractious group that his concerns were purely about unity, spread from the Acquisitor, to the rest of the Confederate fleet, and to the command centre Unlimited Porjection stationed on the ‘sinkhole world’ of Utapau, and to tens of thousands of retransmitter stations and ships spread throughout the diameter of entire galaxy.

Such is the power of that moment, that for those sensitive to the force, with the right knowledge, it will live forever, in a perpetual now.


This is how it feels to be Obi Wan Kenobi, Hero of the Republic, General of the Grand Army, Jedi Master, right now:

You are one of the strongest Jedi in the galaxy. Humility aside, you know this, you may not speak of this pride, but you know it’s in you. You are too wise not to. You have spent your life becoming ever closer to the Will of the Force. To immerse yourself in it, and let its light side work through you.

And for all that, you had not known this. In recent weeks, you’ve had thoughts about the Chancellor. The Jedi had known that Darth Sidious was in 500 Republica, attached to the Chancellor in some way.

And yet, Palpatine had met and been friends with countless jedi over the years since he’d taken office. How was it that he could possibly have shielded himself so effectively if this were the truth? The force is your guide in all things.

Its answer to you is simple that is true, it says to you, in even less words than that. A feeling and a certainty, nonetheless, you know that to openly agree with such a monster on something so vital could be dangerous without proof.

Even if it weren’t, the Jedi Way has been investigation, not vigilantism, for hundreds of generations.

“Perhaps,” you say quietly, “in which case, we shall take him into custody. Regardless I’m sure it will stand in your favour, for what it’s worth, at some point if you help us return the Chancellor to Coruscant.”

The cyborg general’s hologram spasmodically shifts before you, as if he’s having some kind of seizure. You realise he’s laughing silently at you. Or at the young man next to you…


Outside, beyond the confines of the Invisible Hand, in one moment, almost a seventh of the guns in space stop as the confederate fleet stands down. New orders fly through robotic brains so quickly that they’ve been executed before the organic crews of the ships realise what is happening.

Heavy weapons shut down, redirecting the power flow that had been routed into them into shields and close in weapons systems…


This is what it is to be Padmé Amidala, watching and waiting:

You are aware, from lessons taken so long ago, that there is an infitesimal delay of latency on the holonet. But at this distance, it is so small that you know it pales compared to the delay in sound reaching your ears from the viewer you watch.

Your husband is surrounded. In numbers you can barely believe, thousands of battle ‘droids, tanks, destroyers, even things you’ve never seen before, and you’re hardly an ivory tower politician.

He’s dead.

And yet, the Seperatists seem to be unwilling to shoot. You would count it as a blessing, but you remember when you were with him at the beginning of the war.

There are worse and more humiliating ways to die than in the end of a blaster. You are certain Anakin won’t let that happen twice, though.

And then the ‘droid general says it… “How would you like an introduction to Darth Sidious? Surprised that he would come to Coruscant? He’s been here for years… Sidious is Palpatine. The Chancellor is the Sith Lord.”

Your world falls into pieces. You’ve wondered lately whether democracy in the Republic was truly working, if the fight to protect that venerable tree wasn’t burning away at the roots themselves.

Now, however, you know the awful truth of it.

What you thought were burns, were the surface symptoms of the rot at its core.

The Republic is ruled, almost dictatorially, by the Sith.

You’re not a historian, but you are well educated enough to know of the persecutions and horrors inflicted in prior millennia by the Sith Lords, when those quarrelling yet awfully powerful warrior lords had ruled entire sectors of the galaxy, and enacted ‘the policies of the dark side’ mad products of broken minds, crazed and insane persecutions of minorities for strange whims, systematic destruction of entire worlds to fuel mythic hungers. Worse, far worse.

You couldn’t stand for your child to live like that. It might well be better to perish than to live under the rule of a sith empire.

And that is surely what would have happened. Oh, it might continue to resemble the Republic on the surface, for a time. Maybe it might even seem like the Republic for decades. But the fundamental beliefs of the Sith cult, as you understand them, are related to power. They practically worshipped the very antithesis of democracy; the right of those who have it to use power to impose and control those who lack it. Strength, passion, and oppression were their creed.

And yet, with Dooku – Tyrannus, you remind yourself – dead, this Darth Sidious – your friend the chancellor? – was all that was left of them.

To your mind, so used to dealing with the concerns of hundreds and thousands of worlds, the question is not is Palpatine really the Sith Lord?, instead it is How far does this go?.

In order to lead a double life, given his massive public visibility, Palpatine must have conspirators. A nest of traitors nestled in the Chancellor’s office.

In moments you can think of a handful of suspects. Mas Amedda, Sate Pestage, Sly Moore…

And then it hits you, drawing you off track, as you think. Palpatine has used you, and your people, from the beginning. The Trade Federation invasion was his work. All that suffering – in truth, you now don’t think about it that much, there has been so much worse in the war, another invention of Palpatine.

There can be no doubt, now. Every instant, ‘Palpatine’ and ‘Sidious’ have played off one another, manipulating you, the jedi, the separatists and the entire galaxy. Horror and revulsion turns to unalloyed hatred.

What kind of man could do such things?

“A sith…” you say softly, to yourself.


On the world of Trantor, completely covered in urban sprawl, ‘droid and clone fought at the vast sinkholes of heat exchangers. Jalen Antaris, defence volunteer of Trantor, sweated with a blaster rifle in his hands as the ‘droids came on. Three million clones protected this radiator well, but it was not enough to stop the ‘droids advancing on their position, supported by a specialist form of long-range artillery invented by Trantor’s own Seperatist contingent.

Jalen didn’t even have an idea what those things were. They’d shown up three days ago, with some new means of making buildings explode. The scuttlebutt said it was some kind of sonic weapon they moved around at ground level. It was even said that there were jedi dealing with it – Like he believed that! Trantor had only seen one Jedi during the course of the war, and he’d been killed in the initial separatist landings.

“Wait ‘til you can see the blacks of their eyes lad,” the clone trooper next to him whispered, “And don’t fidget so much. They can’t see us through these walls. The heat around here makes infrared almost useless…”

“Reassuring…” Jalen croaked.

“Just stick with me lads… Cyclo’ll get you through,” the clone advisor winked, a curious affectation from someone with a distinctly visible prosthetic eye, and donned his helmet, hefting his heavy battle rifle, he claimed it had been with him in the battle of Geonosis, but Jalen guessed that the clone platoon-advisor was just making up a colourful story to cover the fact that he liked using the big old gun, capable of putting down a super battle ‘droid in a single shot, no questions asked.

Jalen hunkered down, buckling the faceplate of his nemesis power-suit on, checking his gun, checking the line of fire. The clone-only units had positioned themselves in the best firing positions, but his group was patching the gaps. Protecting a tower so huge was quite manpower intensive, after all. A fireteam of clones, painted in a dull yellow and grey camoflage pattern, occupied the central barricade ahead of him. His squad was over to one side of the underground corridor, while, slightly elevated, the rest of the clone squad covered the other.

“Well,” Cyclo said, “Me an’ stompy…” at that moment the lumbering shape of an AT-PT tromped into view on the other side, protected from the advancing ‘droids, as they were, by thick, insulation and anti-blast plate.

Jalen’s unit smiled for a moment. But they could hear the clanking boots of super ‘droids and the skitter-tread of their low slung ‘crab’ friends. They could all tell that there were rather a lot of ‘droids coming.

Suddenly, silence. Jalen, Cylco and the others raised their rifles. “Check masks! Bio-chem inbound!” Cyclo snapped. He didn’t know it, but he didn’t want any of his charges choking because they’d got it wrong. Usually when ‘droids stopped like that, they were going to use some chemical weapon.

Jalen leaned cautiously around the corner, “They’re turning…” and the sound re-started as hundreds of ‘droids with their usual precision, and began to move away.

“What the?” Cyclo leaned around the corner, “Weird. Stompy?”

The AT-PT stepped out of cover, the ball-turreted heavy blaster opening up indiscriminately, mowing down dozens of the ‘droids. They turned, a crab ‘droid hurling a flurry of fire at its legs. The vehicle toppled forwads, its pilot quickly bailing out away from the enemy.

“Thought that was too good to hold,” Cyclo said, “Looks like a fighting retreat…” he switched to another channel, “What’s goin’ on Loot?” The clones and defence soldiers stayed where they were, and the enemy continued to retreat, leap-frogging away, one squad covering the others as they moved away.

“Don’t knock it one-eye…” one of the other soldiers, a young woman Jalen wanted to to get to know better, said… Looked like they’d both have the chance. Jalen laughed.


This is what it is to be Nute Gunray, helpless and distant.

You’re baffled. It takes a few moments to take it in. General Grievous is betraying Darth Sidious… Which means there’s no one to stop him doing precisely what he wants… To, say, you.

It’s said that Neimoidians are the only sentient species in the galaxy with an entire organ devoted to worrying. Yours Is in overdrive. It has been from the beginning of this war, and before.

The ‘worry organ’ was actually part of the cardiovascular system, attached to the lungs, and right now, yours are reflexively shuddering in your chest, stopping you get the breath to speak, making your whole chest feel weak and tremulous.

You suffer from tunnel vision for a moment, accompanied by the dulling effect of your nictating membranes closing over your eyes and a creeping cramp snakes up your arm as you topple backwards onto your back.

This isn’t even your first heart attack this year…


Antane Boon sighed, she’d only signed on to this job for a couple of years to pay off her debts. Running a mining outpost was easy work, most of the time. You just had to remember what all the machines did, nothing difficult about it. But being out with five people on an airless asteroid was testing and lonely.

And at the moment, pretty dangerous, the planet on the edge of the Chomell sector, called ‘Padmé’s Victory’ but officially designated by a serial number, was under attack. Home to a low key resource collecting operation with a few roving collection drones that hovered above the surface of the desolate airless world, harvesting seams of high-iron rocks with ginding maws and low power blasters, the planet wasn’t very valuable.

Nonetheless, it justified a brief stopover by the Seperatists, a light freighter had put down a few days ago, and a squad of battledroids had trooped out, blasting away the communications facilities of the main base, and waiting for a surrender.

Antane and her compatriots, five people in all, three supervisors including herself, and two prospectors, hadn’t been too keen on being inconvenient statistics to whatever Techno Union types were responsible for this little raid, and had locked their security doors.

The Mining Guild didn’t seem like it was going to provide any help, it hadn’t heard yet and probably wouldn’t for months, until it arranged another pickup, so it was down to them to try and wait the attack out or do something about it. The prospectors, quite experienced in frontier-environments had been trying to come up with something to do about ten hostile battle ‘droids encamped with a power generator outside.

She just wanted to go home.

Abruptly the ‘droids, visible camped around the entrances on exterior cameras, got up. Turned around. And went home.

Antane wondered why. Then she realised that it didn’t really matter.


Mas Amedda, Vice Chair of the Galactic Senate, high traitor:

The chagrian politician frowned. Even if his master found a way off that ship, there would be an investigation. Only a coup could ensure success now, and even then, the senate would have to be killed…

It was unworkable. There was only one option that he could consider now: Flight. He reached down, depressing a button on his desk, the holoprojector still showing the confederate transmissions of events in orbit. “Captain Kagi…” he said, “Prepare the Emperor’s shuttle for immediate take off…”

He frowned. A quick jump from here to somewhere unexpected, say, Mundopolois III… Funds…

“Yes my lord…” the reply came after a moment, and Amedda got to work, he’d diverted more than his share of funds into secret accounts over the years.

Maybe he could borrow some extra transportable wealth from Palpatine’s office. It didn’t look like he would be needing it, and that art was quite valuable, for someone like Amedda, who knew precisely who to call about arranging a private auction.


On the surface of Coruscant, the greatest Jedi Masters fought against battle droids. Blades deflected hundreds of blaster bolts as the last elements of General Grievous’ distraction-invasion force were driven from the senate district.

Mace Windu cut a super-battle ‘droid in half, and rolled through the doorway it had come from, pushing another half dozen backwards, as the troops following him shot them with short, semi-automatic bursts that melted arms and pierced abdomens, blasting chunks from them.

“With me!” he cried, and the clones followed in a loose column, shooting over his shoulders, and on either side of him, while he deflected ‘seperatist fire away from them.

They ran out onto a narrow causeway below a vast lit screen, showing advertisements. Red and blue bolts criss-crossed on either side of the Jedi Master, and he flawlessly deflected the red ones back on their firers, like some incredible bat-sports champion.

“Master Windu!” one of the clones cried.

“What?” he said, shouting to be heard.

“I have a message from Master Yoda…”

“What is it?”

“The Chancellor… he is the Sith Lord!” the clone said, and his comrades looked at him, waves of confusion radiating from them.


This is the moment that defines Mace Windu.

Not his countless victories in battle, nor the numberless battles his diplomacy has avoided. Not his penetrating intellect, or his talents with the Force, or his unmatched skills with the lightsaber. Not his dedication to the Jedi Order, or his devotion to the Republic that he serves.

But this.

Right here.

Right now.

Because Mace, too, has an attachment. Mace has a secret love.

Mace Windu loves the Republic.

Many of his students quote him to students of their own: ‘Jedi do not fight for peace. That’s only a slogan, and as misleading as slogans always are. Jedi fight for civilisation because only civilization creates peace.’

For Mace Windu, for all his life, for all the lives of a thousand years of Jedi before him, true civilisation has had only one true name: the Republic.

He has given his life in the service of his love. He has taken lives in its service, and lost the lives of innocents.

And it is because of this love that now, here, in this instant, his heart is shredded, burnt, and pressed into his mouth as choking dust.

Palpatine is Sidious.

He doesn’t even take it in at once, the truth of it is too large to take in at once.

All he’s done, and all that has been done to him—

That all the Order has accomplished, all it has suffered—

All the Galaxy has gone through, all the years of suffering and slaughter, the death of entire planets—

Has all been for nothing.

Because it was all about saving the Republic; it was all for civilisation.

Which was already gone.

Which had already fallen.

The corpse of which had been defended only by a government that was under the heel of a Dark Lord of the Sith.

Mace Windu’s entire existence has become crystal so shot thorugh with flaws that the hammer of those words has crushed him to sand.

But because he is Mace Windu, he takes this blow without a change of expression.

Because he is Mace Windu, within a second, the man of sand is stone once more: pure Jedi Master.

“Come on. We’ve got to get to the Jedi Temple.”

“But General… The ‘droids.”

“Others can take over here. Let’s go!”


On Amador, an entire crèche of young Amadorans, with their attendants, watched the news. The image of the two jedi, and their clones, surrounded by ‘droids flickered in the middle of the room. The boisterous, bulbous hovering children twirled around them. Some of the supervisors were staring in confusion, others, conferring quietly, wonderingly.

“He’s lying!” one of the children decided after a moment, with a hiss of pheremones, and rapid-fire click-clicking of her coralline beak, “blast ‘im Annie!”


This is what it is to be Anakin Skywalker, for now:

You can’t believe it, you don’t want to believe it, you won’t believe it. You can’t even begin to take it in. Sidious is Palpatine. And yet, you trust Palpatine as much as you trust Obi-Wan, he’s been as much a surrogate father to you. Long ago, you wondered if perhaps he was your father somehow, a childish notion. You can’t believe it. You could never believe it. And yet somehow, it feels true. You hear Obi-wan entertaining the notion beside you.

There’s only one thing to say. One thing you can say… “What?”

[Crazedwraith]

Nice. Echoes Matt Stovers style quite well. Apart from the Mace Windu bit.. That was totally off...

[The Grim Squeaker]

. Jalen Antaris, defence volunteer of Trantor, sweated with a blaster rifle in his hands as the ‘droids came on. Three million clones protected this radiator well, but it was not enough to stop the ‘droids advancing on their position,

A fine parody messieur .

Your echoing of Stover's writing style is well done indeed ("Not even his first heart attack" - HAH), and this chapter is a fine kick-up of pace and effects .

[CaptainChewbacca]

The bit with Mace Windu troubles me. Is he going to enact the attempted 'Jedi Coup' we saw in Revenge of the Sith? To have the Jedi take over the Republic and secure it until it can be passed on to the people?

[NecronLord]

The bit with Mace Windu troubles me. Is he going to enact the attempted 'Jedi Coup' we saw in Revenge of the Sith? To have the Jedi take over the Republic and secure it until it can be passed on to the people?

He's going to do something similar to what he did in the canon.

[Chris OFarrell]

Necron, that was f*#(ing brilliant on so many levels, more or less exactly what you would expect of those Nine Words going across the Galaxy and the 'major players' reactions...

Just awesome, I can't stress that enough

[fusion]

It is great except that weird part with Mace. Otherwise keep writing!!!

[CaptainChewbacca]

The bit with Mace Windu troubles me. Is he going to enact the attempted 'Jedi Coup' we saw in Revenge of the Sith? To have the Jedi take over the Republic and secure it until it can be passed on to the people?

He's going to do something similar to what he did in the canon.

Get thrown off a building?

[lazerus]

The bit about mace was weird, but not bad. Excellent work!

[Spice Runner]

Excellent chapter. I'll echo others when I say that I really enjoyed your writing style.

[NecronLord]

Chapter 5: To Ashes

Chancellor Palpatine frowned. The bridge of this ship couldn’t really be operated by one person at the best of times, and while the force would tell him the right codes to unlock its various terminals, there were a number of code cylinders missing, and he couldn’t find a workaround for the system. The panoramic transparisteel windows showed the fleets drifting outside, for the most part now, the battle seemed to be slackening off, with both sides still flying muzzle-to-muzzle, but not firing.

More annoyingly, they were giving this ship plenty of distance. If they’d just have come in for a few hundred meters, he would have been confident that with the right breath mask, he could plausibly pick a Republic ship with its shields down, and land safely. Of course, explaining such a feat would be difficult, but then, people did like their miracles.

For now, however, he’d prefer something that had less of a risk of his being injured by one of the quadrillions of pieces of space debris that were flying out there.


“What?” Anakin said, “impossible. I’d know.”

Leaning back, and wishing he had a comfortable chair and the capacity to appreciate it, or indeed, smile, Grievous laughed. “Of course. It wouldn’t be that the Sith Lord who’s been menacing you all with his ‘shroud of the dark side’ could hide from you. Let’s be honest, your Jedi Council are so bumbling and inept that they couldn’t find a skyscraper on Coruscant with a map, a state of the art sensor suite and a dedicated team of rodian bounty hunters.”

“We’re not the ones losing this war…” the young jedi snapped.

“You’re the ones who’ve been choreographed to win. We’ve been wasting time with entire offensives designed to make you look good,” Grievous wasn’t, in fact, sure if the Confederacy could win the war, but it wouldn’t do any harm to let it be known that it could, “If you want the author of the atrocities of the confederacy, I suggest you go and find him. And if you want the Chancellor, the same. My men,” sisfree emphasised it strangely, “will help you.”

Grievous flicked the transmitter off, and watched the holographic rendition of IG-101 put the projector away. Despite this, he kept the camera-relays, selected from the gun cameras of some of the gunships buzzing overhead, running, and kept re-transmitting the jedi’s activities.

It would doubtless take them some time to find the Chancellor, and in the mean time, Grievous could be productively occupied. Sisfree turned to the Neimoidian captain. “Commander. The General wishes you to relay the following instructions to the fleet; they are to manouver into flotillas and prepare for retreat into hyperspace, while keeping all guns charged.”

“But Sir…” the captain protested, looking at the general, “The shield.”

“We will deal with that in time…”


Odd Ball frowned in confusion as with the sound of thousands of motors moving in synchronicity, the ‘droids put their guns up. “That’s it?” he asked incredulously, “They’re going to let us go get the chancellor?”

“Apparently so,” General Kenobi said, looking at his partner, “and that’s what we’re going to do. But no more than a squad of super battle ‘droids is coming with us,” he said, staring at IG-101.

The ‘droid understood Kenobi’s concern, of course, the jedi general wanted a manageable number of potential enemies, as much as he knew he wasn’t going to be able to simply escape the ‘droids. “Acceptable,” the magnaguard said, turning away, towards the corridor leading to the bridge, where the ship’s sensors had alerted him to tampering with the communications system.


“Authentication confirmed, Chancellor…” a lilting, probably non-human voice came over the speakers, “This is the integrity, how can we help you?”

“Excellent,” Palpatine said, “Integrity, can you dock with the Invisible Hand?”

“Chancellor, this is Lieutenant Commander Lorth Needa, on Integrity…” another voice took over, “We can’t really do that without having to run the guns of several enemy destroyer flotillas…”

Palpatine could sense the man’s unease, not just about the request, but dismissed it. “Then I suggest, lieutenant, that you tell the rest of the fleet to come and dock with this vessel.”


Needa reached down, and toggled the transmitter off, “Stand by, Chancellor…” he turned to the side, to regard a foot high hologram of the diminutive Jedi Master Yoda. “Should we?”

“Delayed, the chancellor must be, until resolved this matter is. Forwarded his instruction, you truly have…” the Jedi said, “Investigate, we will.”

The hologram, transmitted from some jedi transport, he guessed, flickered out, and Needa turned the transmitter back on, “Your instructions have been relayed to command, sir. A plan for your retrieval is being brought underway…”

“Excellent,” the Chancellor’s voice said over the communications system.

Needa looked up, from the integrity’s huge bridge windows, to see the corrugated shape of a separatist destroyer cruise overhead, a number of its underside heavy turbolaser turrets seeming trained directly on him. They weren’t taking any chances with anyone getting near the Invisible Hand, it seemed.

“Get the Separatist feed back up,” he said. He very much wanted to see what happened…


“You can’t believe them…” Anakin whispered…

“No,” Kenobi replied, “but for now, they’re letting us go about the ship as we please…”

They walked, the jedi ahead, feeling distinctly nervous about being so near battle ‘droids, with their weapons unignited, the ‘droids behind, and the clone pilots, last of all.

The bridge corridor was wide, and at the moment, dark, as the ship had, with the evacuation of its crew, shut down most systems. Ahead, the bridge was lit by the flickering green of several displays, and the awesome luminescence of Coruscant’s day side.

“Chancellor…” Kenobi said quietly.

The Chancellor looked around from the chair he’d appropriated, “General Kenobi? I must say, I’m surprised they’ve captured the pair of you…”

“And we’re surprised you’re sitting on the bridge,” Anakin said, quietly, standing in the doorway, feet apart, turning his head and looking back at the towering bodyguard ‘droid behind him.

“Yes, I had the opportunity to put some of the events we know about only too well to Count Dooku, during my stay. He tried to arrange for my escape, while he fought General Grievous…”

“Is that so?” Kenobi said quietly.

“Yes. Alas, it wasn’t to be. The escape pods were already launched when I arrived here. I’ve just been trying to get through to our fleet and arrange an evacuation. I assume you’re the help they said they would be sending…”

“No, we haven’t heard anything from Coruscant for some time,” Anakin said.

“Well in any case, it appears that we are all captives again…”

Palpatine sensed that something was wrong… The faux-naïve banter on the un-held assumption that the jedi were prisoners was a way of stalling. But it didn’t seem likely that there’d be a way out of this that didn’t involve stepping over at least one body.

“You are,” Anakin said, taking his lightsaber from his belt, pressing down, causing a blue-white blade to leap from his hand, “in the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you are under arrest, Chancellor.”

“Pardon?” he made every effort to look like a scared old man, even as he marshalled his resources, as though this was just one more insane interlude in a terrifying and unexpected day. He didn’t have to try too hard.

“You are under arrest,” Anakin repeated.

“But… Anakin, on what possible charge?”

“Treason.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Obi-Wan took his sword out too, activating it, “What else would you call leading an armed insurrection against the Republic, Darth Sidious?”

“Then it appears I have no choice, but to go with you…” Palpatine said, “Though for the record, I would like to protest this accusation…”


Grievous watched, and listened through Sisfree, as Palpatine was taken into custody. This was of course, unacceptable. Without more solid evidence, he would undoubtedly worm his way out of it. There was only one real solution.

‘Kill him!’


The super battle ‘droids reached forward as one with their built in blaster cannons, and opened fire. Palpatine, standing between the Jedi, had no choice but to act. Unfortunately, his instinct was to avoid the attack by leaping beyond it. The jedi turned, blades buzzing as they deflected the volley only partly aimed at them. Anakin leapt forward, bisecting a ‘droid, taking its arm off then slipping his blade through it sideways.

Obi-Wan grasped the significance instantly, however, pointing his blade at the chancellor. “I think that proves it…”

Palpatine inclined his head half an inch, “Ah, General… You don’t know how much pleasure this will give me… You, clones… Excecute Order sixty-six…”

Oh how he’d looked forward to saying that in anger. Lying half awake in the darkness of the night, scheming and anticipating…

It was a disappointment, though, the clone pilots, many of them shooting the battle droids, and the others ignored him. It was worth a try. With a wave of his hand, he smashed the ‘droids into the floor, and the clones, too. Most of the humans were probably killed by the force of it.

The staff in the hands of the bodyguard ‘droid shot towards Palpatine, and he caught it in an outstretched palm, sending IG-101 reeling away at the same moment. Pressing a button on it, causing both ends to flash into life.

He smiled.


He lunged.

The frail old man seemed to be gone, instantly, replaced with a surging figure of primal violence and anger. Obi-Wan brought his sabre to parry and block, again and again. The whirling, biting sounds of the staff clashed with the electric-buzzing of a lightsabre being wielded at speed.

The sith lord laughed, steadily forcing Obi-Wan backwards. Kenobi leapt to pass over a bank of computers, as the old man became more and more different, seeming, through the force, to be a great menace of blackness, with only approximately human features.

Sidious swung the staff like some kind of sporting bat, and Kenobi blocked it again, sending the phrick staff into a bouncing rebound. Quickly, unbelievably so, Sidious brought the weapon under control again, and thrust it into Obi-Wan’s back, violet lightning crawling up the length of his spine.

He toppled forwards with a cry of pain.

Sidious twirled the staff, raising it high behind him, to bring the heavy thing down on Kenobi’s skull. He could see it, before it happened. A flash of chain lightning and the pole sinking into his head like a finger poked into a Nerendaliin cream cake.

He brought the staff forwards, and at the last moment, Kenobi moved aside, and the end of the electrostaff sunk into the deck, buckling it and melting a hole about an inch wide at the centre.

Sidious turned. “Anakin…”

“Chancellor…” Anakin said, “Why?”

“The Republic…” he said, “Has become hopelessly corrupt. Only with the re-organisation I can bring to the republic can it be strong enough for what is to come.”

“Strong…” Anakin said, “by destroying it?”

“By testing it! Strength is made in adversity Anakin, you know that, you are the strongest of the Jedi my boy, and it’s no coincidence that you’re the one who’s had the most denied to him to forge that strength!

“The republic is like an ancient sword,” he twirled his staff a little, to look less aggressive, and resemble the kind old Palpatine once more, “so rusted through that the only course of action to make it usable again is to destroy it, separate out the iron, and start again!”

“So, you are a separatist then?” Anakin asked, confused at the vehemence of his unofficial mentor’s defence.

“No! I mean to re-mould the Republic, back as it was in its youth, a safe, secure, aggressive society that will be ready for anything the universe can throw at it! With safety, security, justice and peace for all! Even those in the galaxy that the Republic has ignored in the past, like your mother, when I am done, will be able to benefit from the Renewed Republic…

“You can help me, Anakin… I need your help…”


Grievous watched, and felt as though he were smiling beneath his mask, ‘All droids aboard the Invisible Hand, converge on the bridge. Kill Chancellor Palpatine.’


The young man looked troubled, his blade flicked back, to bisect a battle ‘droid that struggled to rise to its feet, “How can I ever trust you now?”

“I’ve never lied to you, Anakin. I’ve known from the beginning that you could, that you will, help me to save the galaxy. Did you think that the Sith did not have our own prophecies of the Chosen One?”

Anakin brought his weapon up at the reminder of the old man’s true alliegance, stepping back carefully into the wide corridor, part of him listening, the other part, simply telling him to lead the Sith Lord away from the stirring figure of Obi-Wan behind him.

“You are to bring balance to the force, Anakin, it is your destiny. But what do you think that means? An end to the old incompetence and misrule. Balance – safety, security, justice and peace… A society, an order, that will do, instead of talk!”

“So, what you’re saying, is that the Separatists are right… And you’ve sent my friends to fight a futile war against the truth…”

“No Anakin! The war will catalyse a wholesale transformation of the Republic, when we win… When you join me…”

Skywalker shook his head slowly, “No. You are under arrest…”

“Consider how the Old Republic failed you, failed your mother! Everyone you knew when you were young! Do you want your children,” Anakin dismissed the notion as rhetoric, “to grow up with such a government, where people and laws are perpetually for sale to the next Tagge, Mining Guild or Hutt… It’s not too late to give yourself to that cause, as I have!”


Watching through the slowly moving scanners of IG-101, rising to his feet nearby, Grievous leaned forward, and had Sisfree imitate his voice again.


The bodyguard ‘droid stood, the communications display it held instead of its weapon relaying the voice perfectly. “Wrong, Lord Sidious, everything you say is being re-transmitted…”

Palpatine turned, looking at the ‘droid. For a moment he couldn’t believe it. Then the enormity of it sunk in. Rage was a path to the powers of the dark side, and Palpatine had never been so enraged, in his long life, not even as a terrified, starved child, denied love and pleasure and rest and safety…

He reached out with his fury, and the ‘droid exploded into a million pieces, burning in the heat of his gaze, and crackling with lightning. More ‘droids were coming, up ahead. He dismissively waved toward them, and they fell into pieces. Then he turned his attention on Skywalker. He’d liked Skywalker, or at least, he’d had hopes for him. But now, all the could think of was rage. Lightning leapt from him, and the young Jedi raised his blade to block it, ineffectually. He toppled backwards, into the writing mass of one of the clone troopers, seething and burning in the maelstrom of rage.

Kenobi stood behind him, and Darth Sidious barely paid him any attention, letting the staff he held fly backwards, hitting the Jedi master like a spear, cracking ribs and puncturing flesh.

Breathing deeply, furiously, Palpatine stood over Skywalker. First, he would kill this ignorant ingrate, then, he would use the force to kill the machine general, which would take a fraction more concentration at range. Then…

He was without a plan.

It didn’t matter so much; he could make this last for a while…

He reached out, into the rage, letting it flow into his fingertips, and arc outwards, sizzling through the air and into the jedi’s bones. He would make this last. He would burn the flesh from Skywalker, piece by smoking piece.

Over and over he renewed his assault, circling Anakin and sending lances of shriving, searing energy into the writing, smoking form of the Jedi.

When he sensed, finally, that the internal damage was so great that total organ failure neared, he smiled. “Now… Jedi… You will die…” It gave him little pleasure, nothing could, now, for Palpatine, the pleasure of killing had always been in how it served his goals, not the act itself.

He dragged a greater strength from the dark side, and hurled it outwards in a blazing cone of cracking, questing energy. That stopped suddenly on the purple blade that interposed itself between him and his victim.

Palpatine looked to his side, to see the brown robed figure of Mace Windu rising to his feet, blade out. He had no idea how the new Jedi had arrived, he hadn’t seen or sensed any approach, but then, he had been focussed and distracted…

“I don’t think so…” he said, sternly, forcefully, absolutely confidently.

[Darth Yoshi]

So the clone pilots that accompanied the Jedi ignored Order 66 because Palpatine showed himself to be a traitor to the Republic? Good stuff, though. Keep it coming.

[NecronLord]

So the clone pilots that accompanied the Jedi ignored Order 66 because Palpatine showed himself to be a traitor to the Republic? Good stuff, though. Keep it coming.

Yep. I never really subscribed to the theory that they're complete automatons in that regard.

[Darth Fanboy]

So the clone pilots that accompanied the Jedi ignored Order 66 because Palpatine showed himself to be a traitor to the Republic? Good stuff, though. Keep it coming.

Yep. I never really subscribed to the theory that they're complete automatons in that regard.

It makes much more sense this way though, with the loyalty ingrained into the clones was towards the office of Chancellor and to a specific individual.

I would have liked to see Anakin put up a little more fight but the paralell between that moment and RoTJ was very nicely done.

[NecronLord]

I would have liked to see Anakin put up a little more fight but the paralell between that moment and RoTJ was very nicely done.

He's not quite done yet.

[Spice Runner]

Verrry nice.

[Chris OFarrell]

*Hums Shaft theme*

Why do I get the feeling this is going to end badly? Windu is not exactly in the best of moods if the previous chapter is any indication and Vapaad does take one rather close to the Dark side...

Still. I have to admit I loved Grievous smugly telling Palpitine to smile, he's on candid camera across the Galaxy!

Didn't forsee all of THIS, did you Palpy?

[NecronLord]

No one's come up with an outrageously extravagant theory regarding how Mace got there? I'm disappointed!

And yeah. I figure that the mechanics of seeing the future is that they see the most likely possibilities. This starts with a complete fluke Palpatine never took into account, and spirals out from there; if given the opportunity, he'd be able to see the probable future again. In the same way, a few chapters back, there's a bit about Anakin suddenly feeling positive about the future. This is because his original future as an iron lung wearing wife-murderer dropped off the subconscious scopes.

[Crazedwraith]

This party's over, motherfucker.

I look forward to Windu smacking Sidious down or vice-versa, either one is sure to be awesome but for a true Rise of the Machines, I'd assume Sidious is going to have to go down sooner or later.

[CaptainChewbacca]

The bodyguard ‘droid stood, the communications display it held instead of its weapon relaying the voice perfectly. “Wrong, Lord Sidious, everything you say is being re-transmitted…”

And yet again: Oh, SNAP!

My money is on Windu. The only reason he lost was because of Anakin.