=== Anakin ===
Anakin stood alone in the dimly lit operations room Palpatine had given him access to, the air still smelling faintly of smoke and disinfectant from the Temple ruins clinging to his robes. Holo-projectors hovered around him in a loose semicircle, streams of fragmented data scrolling past, transponder echoes, civilian ship departures, encrypted hyperspace wakes, anything that might hint at where the surviving Jedi had gone. His jaw was tight, his eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion and barely restrained fury. The Temple had been butchered, the Order shattered in a single, brutal stroke, and the not knowing who lived, who died, was eating at him far worse than the images burned into his memory.
"Come on," he muttered under his breath, fingers flying across the controls. "Someone has to have gotten out."
When the comm finally chimed, he froze for half a second before snapping his attention to it. The hologram flickered, stabilized, and Qui-Gon appeared before him.
Anakin's breath hitched. "Master," he said immediately, the word tumbling out with more relief than he intended. "You're alive."
Qui-Gon inclined his head, a tired but genuine smile touching his features. "I am, Anakin. And it's good to see you are as well."
Anakin let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding, one hand bracing against the edge of the console. "I thought… after the Temple… I didn't know who was left. I've been trying to track survivors since I got clearance."
"You weren't wrong to worry," Qui-Gon replied gently. "Many were lost. Too many." His expression darkened briefly before he continued. "But Obi-Wan is safe. Plo Koon as well. Quinlan Vos. A number of Knights and Padawans. And the younglings, we got them out."
Anakin's shoulders sagged slightly at that, the knot in his chest loosening just a fraction. "Thank the Force," he said quietly. "I was afraid the worst had happened to all of you."
Qui-Gon studied him for a moment. "You look… different."
Anakin swallowed. "The Imperium attacked the Senate at the same time as the Temple and left a bomb. I was… caught in the explosion when it went off." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're alive."
"I'm glad you are alright.," Qui-Gon went on. "When the attack began, we evacuated everyone we could reach. The Imperium came down right through the Temple. We were herding survivors down the rear steps when a ship appeared. A Weequay captain."
Anakin frowned. "A Weequay?"
"Yes," Qui-Gon said slowly. "Hondo Ohnaka. He said Count Dooku sent him."
Anakin stiffened instantly. "Dooku?" His voice sharpened. "He sent a ship?"
"He did," Qui-Gon confirmed. "The man claimed Dooku wanted to limit casualties, to ensure those who could escape, did."
Anakin's expression hardened, anger flaring behind his eyes. "That doesn't sit right," he said flatly. "The Imperium butchered the Temple, Master. They slaughtered Masters. Padawans. Younglings would have died too if you hadn't gotten them out. And Dooku wants credit for mercy?"
"I share your unease," Qui-Gon replied, unoffended. "But at that moment, I had little choice. Trust him, or watch everyone behind me die. I chose to save lives."
Anakin looked away for a moment, jaw working as he wrestled with his emotions. "I don't like it," he admitted. "But… I'm glad you're safe. All of you."
"As am I," Qui-Gon said softly. "For what it's worth, Anakin, I would make the same choice again."
There was a brief silence, the hum of machinery filling the space between them. Then Anakin straightened, resolve settling over his features. "Things are still chaos here on Coruscant," he said. "The Senate's in ruins, the Temple's sealed off, and Palpatine is trying to hold the Republic together by sheer will. Once things stabilize, I'll come to you. I promise."
Qui-Gon's eyes warmed at that. "We'll be here. Take care of yourself, Anakin. The galaxy will try to pull you apart right now."
Anakin gave a short, almost humorless laugh. "It already is."
"Then hold fast," Qui-Gon said. "And trust the Force. Do not fear."
The words lingered as the transmission ended. Anakin stared at the empty space where his master's image had been, his relief real, but uneasily tangled with suspicion, grief, and a growing sense that the lines between ally and enemy were blurring far faster than he was ready for.
Anakin left the quiet of the comms room behind him and stepped back out into the open air that surrounded the shattered Senate district. The sky above Coruscant was choked with drifting ash and haze, sunlight reduced to a dull, bruised glow that reflected off twisted durasteel and fractured transparisteel. Heavy lifters moved like slow insects through the wreckage, hauling away collapsed sections of the Senate spire while Republic engineers marked unstable areas with pulsing hazard beacons.
He spotted Palpatine near the edge of a temporary command platform erected along the broken outer ring of the Senate building. The Chancellor stood with his hands clasped behind his back, cloak fluttering faintly in the hot updrafts rising from the rubble below, surrounded by aides, officers, and holographic projections tracking demolition teams and emergency responders. As Anakin approached, Palpatine dismissed the others with a quiet gesture, turning slowly to face him, his expression etched with concern and fatigue that looked painfully genuine.
"Anakin," Palpatine said warmly. "You look as though you haven't slept."
"I haven't. I've been having… nightmares," Anakin replied honestly, stopping a few paces away. "I made contact with my master."
Palpatine's brow rose just slightly. "Qui-Gon Jinn?"
Anakin nodded. "He's alive. Obi-Wan too. Plo Koon. Others. They escaped the Temple."
"I see," Palpatine said, his voice measured. "And where are they now?"
"Alderaan," Anakin answered. "They were evacuated during the attack. An Imperium ship took them there."
For the briefest moment, Palpatine said nothing. The sounds of machinery and distant demolitions filled the silence as he turned his gaze back toward the ruined Senate spire, eyes narrowing just a fraction as though he were studying a puzzle only he could see. When he finally spoke, his tone was thoughtful rather than angry.
"An Imperium ship," he repeated softly. "That is… unexpected."
Anakin watched him closely. "That was my reaction too."
Palpatine inclined his head, then gestured for Anakin to walk with him. They moved together along the edge of the platform, boots crunching faintly against grit and debris as they passed beneath flickering holos showing casualty estimates and structural schematics.
"You see why I find this troubling," Palpatine said at last. "The Imperium strikes at the heart of the Republic, our Senate, our Jedi Temple, yet spares a number of Jedi and spirits them away to Alderaan. That is not the action of an enemy interested only in destruction."
Anakin frowned, folding his arms. "Maybe they just wanted survivors to spread fear. Or confusion."
"Perhaps," Palpatine allowed. "But I have learned that the Imperium rarely does anything without purpose. And I trust your judgment, Anakin. You are faithful to the Republic." He glanced at him sidelong, his expression softening. "And to Padmé. She is very dear to me, almost like a daughter. Naboo has suffered enough, especially now that it has fallen under Imperium control. I would never ask you to betray what you love."
Anakin felt a faint warmth at that, mixed with the ever-present tension coiled in his chest. "I know," he said quietly.
"That is why I want your thoughts," Palpatine continued. "Help me reason this through. If the Imperium's goal was to cripple the Republic, why send aid at all? Why allow any Jedi to escape?"
Anakin didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted back to the smoking ruins, his mind replaying Qui-Gon's calm voice, the mention of Hondo Ohnaka, of Dooku's name spoken so casually in the middle of catastrophe.
Palpatine let the silence stretch, then added gently, "Tell me, Anakin, did your master mention Count Dooku?"
Anakin stiffened almost imperceptibly. "Yes," he admitted. "Dooku sent the ship."
"And Qui-Gon accepted it," Palpatine said, not as an accusation, but as a statement of fact. "You remember Dooku well. Once a Jedi. Now a proud member of the Imperium. A man who believes the Republic and the Order lost their way."
Anakin exhaled slowly. "Qui-Gon always… understood Dooku," he said. "Even after he left. They spoke. More than most Masters were comfortable with."
"I remember," Palpatine said softly. "And Qui-Gon himself was never blind to the Republic's flaws. Nor to the Order's rigidity."
They walked a few more steps before Anakin finally turned to him, a troubling thought taking shape. "Are you suggesting the Jedi betrayed the Republic?" he asked. "That they aligned themselves with the Imperium?"
Palpatine stopped. He faced Anakin fully now, studying him with an expression that seemed both grave and sympathetic. "I am suggesting nothing," he said after a moment. "Only exploring possibilities. If there were… divisions within the Order, those sympathetic to Dooku's ideals, and those loyal to the Republic, then a schism is not unthinkable."
Anakin's jaw tightened. "You think there was a coup," he said slowly. "That Qui-Gon took who he could and fled… and left the loyalists behind."
Palpatine hesitated, then gave a small, regretful shake of his head. "I said no such thing," he replied carefully. "And personally, Anakin, I find it difficult to believe Qui-Gon Jinn would ever willingly condemn innocents to die. He is a good man."
Anakin nodded faintly, but the certainty he wanted to feel wasn't there. Images surfaced unbidden, Qui-Gon and Dooku speaking in hushed tones years ago, debates about the Council's blindness, the Republic's corruption, the need for change. Things Anakin had once admired, even agreed with.
"But…" Palpatine continued, his voice gentle, almost apologetic, "good men can still be led astray. Especially when they believe they are acting for the greater good."
Anakin stared out over the city again, unease twisting in his gut. "He never trusted the Council," he murmured. "He always thought they were too cautious. Too political."
"And now the Council is gone," Palpatine said quietly. "Slain to the last in the Temple. While your master lives."
The words settled heavily between them. Palpatine straightened, placing a reassuring hand on Anakin's shoulder. "It is all speculation," he said. "And I would never ask you to condemn your master without proof. But we must be vigilant. The Republic is wounded, Anakin. Surrounded by enemies we do not yet fully understand."
Anakin nodded, though his thoughts were a storm of doubt and confusion. "If Qui-Gon knows something," he said at last, "if he's hiding something… I'll find out."
"I know you will," Palpatine replied warmly. "For the Republic. For Padmé"
As they resumed walking, Anakin found himself replaying memories he had never questioned before, now colored by suspicion he hadn't realized was being carefully, patiently placed in his mind.
They continued walking along the fractured edge of the platform, the ruined Senate stretching out below them like a corpse being methodically dissected. For a time Palpatine said nothing, allowing the weight of what had already been spoken to settle before his voice returned, quiet, almost gentle, as though he were afraid of startling something fragile inside Anakin.
"Tell me about your nightmares," the Chancellor said at last. "The ones that have been troubling you."
Anakin slowed, then stopped altogether. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if grounding himself in the sensation of being awake. "They're always the same," he admitted, his voice rougher than he intended. "Every night. Padmé."
Palpatine turned slightly toward him but did not interrupt, his attention absolute.
"I see her on the ground," Anakin continued, swallowing hard. "She's unconscious. Hurt. Nira is there, and Imperium Mandalorians, dragging her toward a ship. And between me and her…" His jaw tightened. "The Salamander. Raxor."
Palpatine's expression did not change, but his eyes sharpened.
"I always fight him," Anakin went on. "Sometimes I win. Sometimes I don't. It never plays out the same way twice. But I can never reach her. The ship always takes off." His breathing grew shallow as the images resurfaced. "And then the dream changes. Suddenly she's not on the landing pad anymore. She's on a metal slab screaming for me."
He clenched his fists. "There are Astartes around her. Imperium personnel. I can see them clearly. Nira is there too, holding Padmé's hand. And I know… I know they're torturing her. Cutting her open. Hurting her. I wake up before it ends, but the screaming doesn't stop. It never stops."
For a moment, the noise of Coruscant seemed to fade, as if the city itself were holding its breath. Palpatine remained silent, his face composed, but his presence pressed in on Anakin like a steady, anchoring weight.
"I don't know what it means," Anakin said finally, his voice cracking despite his effort to control it. "I don't know if it's just fear, or if it's a vision. But every time I see it, it feels… real. Like the Force is warning me. And I'm scared." He looked up then, eyes burning. "I can't lose her."
Palpatine stopped walking.
He turned fully to Anakin now, resting both hands lightly on the railing as he regarded him, not as a Chancellor addressing a Jedi, but as an older man looking upon someone in pain. When he spoke, his voice was low, carrying the gravity of a confession rather than a lecture.
"The Force shows us many things," he said. "Some true. Some possible. Some shaped by our deepest fears. But fear itself does not invalidate a vision, Anakin. In many cases, it sharpens it."
Anakin's shoulders sagged slightly, as though a burden he hadn't realized he was carrying had been acknowledged at last.
"You are not weak for being afraid," Palpatine continued. "You are afraid because you love. And love is a powerful thing, far more powerful than the Jedi have ever allowed themselves to admit."
He let that sit for a heartbeat, then asked, almost casually, "Tell me, Anakin… have you ever heard the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?"
===
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