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Obi-Wan tried to push his speeder faster with guts filled with a dread like poisoned ice; but even from here he sees the smoke and tastes the ash and grief of the Force as it wails with the deaths of so many. His head is throbbing from Utapau but he can't think about that right now, this stupid fucking machine needs to go faster, Anakin always got it to go so fast, why won't it go fast now? There are bodies on the steps of the temple- don't look -so he crashed the speeder on someone's meditation balcony. He’s out of the vehicle so quickly it barely registers; all he can feel is his heart pounding, lungs burning, pulling on the Force even as it buffets him because now he was the one who had to go a little faster. Don’t look at the bodies -if he looks he'll see their face and if he even thinks their name the grief will sink a hook into his breast so sharp and vicious he'll drown. So he runs but he can hear fighting so there's still hope, so he begs his body for more, please just a little bit more .
He gets to a room that the crèche uses during assaults as a last stand in time to see a guard fall to Anakin's blade. Time stretches and in spite of the guard’s mask he knows he's been seen, too. It feels like a warm, calloused thumb pressing on his cheek below his eye. Its voice doesn’t command ' run ', it doesn’t beg ' help me '. He could taste tea with too much milk, warm hands gently correcting his stance, a surprised gulp of laughter that felt like sunshine through trees. The touch just pressed there on his cheekbone and exhaled one last message as Obi-Wan felt the thin tether of his lineage bond with Feemor dissolve sharing only one final thought as his brother dies. ' Obi-Wan .’
~~~
Xanatos wasn’t really a Sith. His kriffing traitor of a Master certainly acted like he was, calling it 'Falling' like he'd been so stupid as to trip when he preferred to think of it as a deliberate saunter downwards. Well, deliberate in that when he watched Qui-Gon kill his father he knew with every fiber of his being that he was going to destroy Qui-Gon Jinn until all he knew was Xanatos' pain and then twist it for more because it was never going to be enough. All the same Xanatos wasn't a Sith. Their ideology required ascribing to a faith just as restrictive as the Jedi and really the two should fuck and get over the stupid sexual tension-if rival religions could even fuck. He felt his mind wander down that bizarre ideological trail before refocusing.
Of course he, too, had felt the Dark gathering, had felt it deepening for years, but now it was suddenly slithering-coiling-tightening like a ball of serpents as the Real Sith on Coruscant enacted the final strokes of his 'master plan'. He felt the lights of the Jedi going out, like a startled flock of birds. He sipped at the agony of the Force and decided it was too bitter a brew, some finesse, surely, would be better appreciated. In that, at least, his late Grandmaster had excellent taste-absently he wished they could’ve compared their thoughts and discussed it but no, of course they couldn’t have, because that relationship was just one more thing Qui-gon had kept from him.
He felt it when Feemor died.
His first thought was that Feemor had always been weak.
His second was that Feemor had always been kind.
His third, starting to rage in his chest like a terrible building storm, was that all the Padawans of Qui-Gon's accursed lineage were HIS to torment and this Darth Sidious was going to learn just how badly he had crossed this line. Obi-Wan was on the planet and he could taste echoes of the redhead's anguish, burning the rage in his chest ever higher. That torture was supposed to be HIS.
Xanatos swept through the halls of the Senate; his robes were immaculately chosen, richly embroidered in a fashionable cut speaking so plainly of his superior station no one was stupid enough to stop him. He stepped into the Chancellor's office as if expected whilst examining his thumbnail as if his manicurist had botched the job and he was mildly distracted by his displeasure in noticing the error. This supposedly accounting for his ignoring the shattered glass on the floor and Palpatine's heaving bosom.
"It seems we have business, Chancellor.”
~~~
Mace was falling into the night; body still spasming with aftershocks as he slammed ignobly into one speeder, slipped off and managed to land in the backseat of another. Screams of alarm then terror at the sight of him rang in his ears but fortunately- There is no Luck, only the Force -they pulled over to get him first aid from a nearby Judicial. It felt like the temple was sitting on his chest while he drowned, gulping for air but a fresh burn of agony shocked his heart back into a safe rhythm. He gasped for breath, pushing against the medics who pushed back and gave him hyposprays for pain, to steady his arrhythmia, and to ward off infection with his newly amputated limb.
Shatterpoints had exploded over Coruscant and that migraine wasn't going away, but he could feel Yoda coming for him so he reached for his bond with the tiny ancient Master like he was still but a lad in need of comfort. Yoda reached back and he was able to finally lay back and just catch his breath for a moment. Palpatine was the Sith Lord and Anakin had betrayed them and he could feel the Jedi- his friends, his family! -dying around him and he moaned like a dying thing. But he wasn't the dying thing he'd have to live to see After, but Force forfend how was he supposed to live after this?
~~~
Quinlan Voss knew he was unconventional as a Jedi. It bothered him as a youngling but the sweet affection of his crèchemates and the fond indulgence of his patient Master taught him to embrace who he was without shame. Right now, bedridden in some shithole motel on one of Coruscant's lower levels while he waited for his injuries to recover from a mission gone bad,he wondered if staying as a Shadow was a mistake. He could be happy teaching, he thought, showing other little younglings that being 'too much' wasn't a death sentence like he'd feared it was.
The Force suddenly heaved, screaming in his mind and he screamed with it, nearly biting his tongue off when his body convulsed. So many...so many! Bant- Aayla -he felt them slip off into the Force with an agony he'd never known. Adrift, scrabbling for an anchor, he found Obi-Wan and grabbed their crèche bond with everything he had.
Don't die, don't die, you can't leave me too-don't leave me alone! And just like every time before he felt Obi-Wan reach back like a clasp at his wrist, like a little body laying on his to squish out his nightmares. Through the storm that was the Force he heard Obi-Wan murmur into him,
If something terrible is worth the price, can you forgive me?
And Quinlan knew. He knew. He'd done this before, he had come back. He would hold the line for Obi-Wan, he'd always forgive Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s love was like a lodestone to anchor him back into knowing who he was, showing him the path when he couldn't see.
Where you go, I go . He could taste someone else's tears, felt his chest warm as Obi-Wan sent him what he had left of himself to safeguard.
Your turn to be the anchor . And then it was Quinlan crying, sobbing into the dark of his room as he clutched the pieces of Obi-Wan’s soul as close as he could into his own and promised to hang on.
~~~
"You betrayed me!" Anakin's voice was rasping from his early screaming rage, "I hate you!" He'd kill them all, there was no going back, no redemption. All he could do was dive down, down, down-let someone else decide because then it wouldn't be his fault this happened. None of this was his fault! He gestured for the troops to stay back, his saber already starting to bleed and scream against the dissonance of who he was becoming. He was the master of the Force, he was the Chosen one-no other being alive could command-could control-as much as he could. He was unmatched, unparallelled-he could not be defeated, could not be checked. Certainly not by perfect fucking Obi-Wan Kenobi who had never struggled a day in his life with the code or understood what it meant to care about somebody else.
He drew it up like great gulps of fetid water-gathering the rising tide into his hands to ready himself like a beacon that would destroy worlds at his slightest command. In so doing he paused-checked by something strange. He frowned, watching as Obi-Wan merely looked back at him, into him, looking into all of his dark and shame and secrets and saw the ugliness and that there was nowhere to hide.
A cold finger of warning touched the nape of his neck, a frisson from the Force as he realized in the light of the hallway Obi-Wan's eyes seemed to gleam gold. A warning that was wrong, obviously. No Force user could ever conquer him, and he was going to destroy the Jedi who'd tried to curtail him from the power he'd always deserved, was his birthright! He screamed wordless rage as he charged.
~~~
Sidious- the pompous arrogant fool -never saw it coming. Xanatos was thinking about peeling off Qui-Gon's skin and perhaps trying that new rosé from Alderaan he'd heard was popular. Palpatine had wasted a few moments trying to babble as if his worthless persona of a mask wasn’t utterly destroyed in front of the wealthiest lobbyist in the Senate, and so had no anticipation or warning from the Force before his head was off his body and said body kicked ignominiously off his chair.
"Disgusting. All this bragging about Sith lines and he's as weak as the Jedi." Xanatos lounged at the desk, adopting his favorite insouciant pose as he helped himself to datapads and flimsi notes. There was a muted holo monitor showing the goings on inside the Jedi temple and he watched it for a few moments. Bored of Qui-gon's fourth padawan killing initiates-absolutely no subtlety, a disgusting waste of power-and he fiddled with a small modified comm unit.
Sitting in this chair, in this office, he quite literally occupied the Office of the Chancellor and he could take this convenient army of clones or...hrm another much more convenient army of droids. Droids were far less messy both legally and literally so he pocketed that datapad for later. He tossed the comm unit up and down in his palm as a wicked, mischievous thought occurred. How much it would just burn Qui-gon, so confident that he knew Xanatos and could predict him. He'd never fucking predict this -the bastard. With malicious, contrarian glee, he crushed the master control transmitter for the clone army in his fist.
~~~
Feemor was gone and Obi-Wan felt Quinlan reach. He reached back, ignoring the wet salt of his tears as he gave what was left of himself to Quin. Quin absolved him, Quin would help when it was over. If he could stay alive. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and focused on breathing; a breath in, a slower breath out. Heartbeats of time and he gave up everything he had left and let go, simply opening himself to the Force.
Take me now, or use me as you Will. I am nothing, but the Force is with me and I am the Force. He didn't try to push back the dark or ask for strength, he cracked open his chest and his guts and offered himself over. And the Force which had always loved him too well answered. Light and Dark, balanced, opposite, whole, two but one filled him up.
Anakin-no, Vader-screamed and subjugated and demanded more than any other Force user but only the Dark. And what he'd been given could be taken away by a different champion without agenda or ego to interrupt its Will. They locked eyes, Vader hesitating strangely before they clashed. He met Vader’s furious Djem So with his steady patient Soresu and his bones sang in harmony with his kyber. Obi-Wan barely noticed when it was over, Vader split from hip to shoulder into two and returned to the Force from whence he came. Something rippled through the Clone Troopers-and at first there was a slight whisper of concern in the back of his mind where a ghost that felt like Kenobi wondered if with Anakin gone they'd continue the slaughter.
He turned instead, going to Feemor. Callused fingers slipped over the still warm metal of the Temple Guard mask, it's cooling metal marked with a diagonal lightsaber slash from brow across the nose. Carefully-so carefully-he took it off the body and put it on his own face. He stepped in front of the safe room doors, lightsaber still lit. The cool blue light gleamed strangely on the gold and silver metal of his mask and the sweat of his hair.
He would not be moved.
~~~
Appo and rest of the 501st present fought to desperately rip off their buckets as the sudden resurgence of their free will presented itself with violent nausea and more than a few of the Vode collapsing in despair. He couldn't look at his brothers, he couldn't look at the bodies left behind or the one in pieces on the floor. He needed answers, what had happened, why had they done this? What had stopped them? He watched from outside his body as Obi-Wan looked up from Vader. As Appo met the absent gaze from another Fallen Jedi who should've never even been a possibility-and later he would wonder what it meant, that Anakin's eyes had been sulfur yellow edged with red and Obi-Wan's seemed like 212th gold- he lifted his blaster, shaking so bad there wasn't any chance he'd hit his target.
"I won't follow another Sith." Obi-Wan just looked back at him then turned away to the man on the floor further back. Strangely he took the guard's mask and put it on, then took the man's place. Appo didn't know what was behind the door but he still tried to bellow,
"Put down the weapon!" No reaction, not even a flicker. Hawk stumbled over and put his hand on Appo’s blaster, pushing it down.
"Wait." Everything was buzzing, there was so much, so much ; there was no chance of forgiveness-they had betrayed thr Jedi they had been made for and worse they’d marched on non-combatants -but he let his weapon drop. General Kenobi turned off his blade and just stood there. Watching, waiting, no movement, no sound. His baffled, wary brothers stumbled back from the hall- back from all of this- and tried to regroup. Nothing was going to be okay ever again.
Yoda and Mace found them in the Temple Annex and upon seeing the Council Masters the 501st laid down weapons and surrendered, hands on their heads. Mace felt like he had an icepick in his brain from the shatterpoints that had collapsed or exploded already today, to say nothing of fighting a Sith Lord mere hours ago. Yoda accepted their surrender but even as they were trying to figure out how to manage what the kark has happened, every comm in the room chimed and turned on.
A planet wide broadcast, emergency priority from the Chancellor's office itself. There was Xanatos-his black hair gleaming in the light of the holocam-addressing the masses.
"Good people of the Republic, a Galactic crime has been revealed tonight. I am Xanatos duCrion of the Maison du Crion Corporation. It is my terrible duty to inform you that upon an audit of the Galactic Army of the Republic's Clone outpost on Kamino it has been revealed that a Separatist saboteur has compromised our valiant troops. For the security of our Republic I cannot give details at this time, but this sabotage has led to the tragic loss of many of our forces and beloved Chancellor Sheev Palpatine has suffered a cardiac event from this revelation and has passed this very evening. Our condolences are with his loved ones and are respecting their wish for privacy in this difficult time.
“Be assured the Republic remains unbroken, an emergency session of the Senate has been called, and it is my humble honor to announce that I have been named Chancellor in Extremis. It is with my emergency powers that I am recalling the GAR forces to protect the Core Worlds but rest assured, this assault on liberty will not go unanswered! At this time an emergency Shelter In Place order is issued for all Core Planets. Further announcements will be made as we follow the rapidly evolving situation. Beloved citizens, we mourn together tonight, but we will rise stronger than ever tomorrow!"
The broadcast ended and Mace thought he might have died already, actually, and this must be a different universe because nothing made sense. Murmurs rose amongst the vode but Yoda smacked his stick against the floor to make it ring.
"Answers we have not. Surrender your weapons and armor, you must. Gathered, the fallen must be." He pointed with his gimer stick and started delegating. Appo thought he was going to choke on his guts as he managed to spit out,
"Obi-Wan's alive. Outside the crèche ."
~~~
Quinlan commed Mace, slapped a fresh bacta patch on his side, and limped his way to the temple. It seemed like a flock of terrible birds hovered in the sky as the ships of the GAR returned to Coruscant space, none of them with their Jedi Generals aboard. He avoided the large training rooms where grim faced, shellshocked Clones were arranging bodies and draping white cloths atop. He met the Masters at the mouth of the hallway and lifted his eyebrows. Mace sighed.
"He won't let us get to the door, but the younglings are distressed inside." Quin looked, because he had to look, and it took him a moment to understand the quiet figure in the scorched mask of the Guard was his Obi-Wan. Quinlan reached out-slow, slow, you have to show them what you're doing so they don't startle-and he brushed against Obi-Wan's presence in the force. Kark, he shouldn't cry again, but even when he opened himself to the dark, when the essence Obi-Wan ached of ‘I will not be moved. I am the only shield. I have the watch.’ -it was just so Obi-Wan Kenobi to fall to the Dark to protect innocent lives because he loved so deeply. Yoda grumbled,
"Fallen, Kenobi has. A risk, he is." Quinlan had to bite back at least four nasty sharp replies before he managed.
"Intent matters." To this Yoda grumped again but Mace looked like this had only just occurred to him and neither Master stopped Quin from walking closer. Quin focused on I want to soothe the babies rather than Yoda's remove the darksider, and Obi-Wan didn't even twitch as he let Quinlan open the doors. Mace sighed, rubbing his eyebrows hard.
"We'll leave it for now." Yoda's ears quirked strangely and the little imp squawked
"His penance, let this be. Guard the crèche Kenobi shall." And even though they had a whole army to manage, and a mutiny to investigate, they too entered the crèche to soothe the little lights and let themselves be soothed in turn.