Chapter Text
Chapter 19: Visitors
Mandalore-
The Fortress-
Jaster Mereel-
The room Jaster had been given was fine - plain and utilitarian. It was just to his taste as he had no use for ornate decorations or frivolous ‘stuff’ to fill a room simply for the sake of having it. There was the sleeping pit big enough for several adults, which was fortunate, considering Jaster’s height. There was also a desk and it was at that desk that Jaster had sat since leaving Kenobi and Anakin in the main room.
He STILL couldn’t write the speech he was expected to give when he won the challenges that had been issued and took the title of Mand’alor. Shame he didn’t have someone around who was clever with words.
After a short time, Jaster left his room to check on the children. To his surprise, Kenobi was sound asleep on the sofa in the main room with Aranar curled around him. Why Kenobi hadn’t chosen to use the sleeping pit with Anakin was a bit of a mystery, but perhaps that was a Jedi thing. Mandalorian siblings would often share sleeping pits when they were young, but perhaps Kenobi felt he was too grown-up for such things or Jedi simply slept alone. He took a moment to pat Aranar who woke up, looked at him briefly, then lay its’ head down and went back to sleep. Jaster then went to look in on Anakin. He, too, was fast asleep. In the sleeping pit, in the nest of pillows and blankets, Anakin slept with his arms and legs spread wide, as if he’d fallen into the sleeping pit and just fell asleep where he’d landed, with little Kal curled up on his chest.
All was peaceful.
Jaster closed the door of the room Anakin was in and saw no point in waking Kenobi. There were a couple of other sleeping rooms; in the morning he would ask if Kenobi would prefer to use one of those.
Back at his desk, with an unwritten speech in front of him, Jaster reflected on the previous day and the day that was yet to come. He’d made appointments with the Psych-Medics for all three children as well as a meeting with the head instructor at the local school to discuss placing Satine in a class and allowing Anakin to take a few classes until Jaster was forced to give him back to the Jedi.
With his shoulders slumped, Jaster let out a sigh. He really didn’t want to let the boys go. It would be a sad day, because though he knew he would be happy to have them back with their family, he couldn’t quite forget what Anakin had said only a few hours earlier.
“Obi, you gotta think. You don’t have your Force anymore. And no one at your Temple wanted me there ‘cept you ‘n Master Jinn. What if they don’t let us live at the Temple?”
The idea that their people might not take them back... it didn’t seem likely with how devoted Kenobi was to them, but there had been that incident on the Bral where Kenboi had gotten on his knees and begged and he couldn’t understand what they taught their children in the Jedi Temple.
‘Perhaps,’ he thought. ‘That’s the problem. I don’t understand.’
He made a quick note to remind himself to ask the first Jedi he saw - whether it was a rescue party who came to retrieve Kenobi and Anakin or if he escorted them back to their Temple on Coruscant and saw Jedi there - to ask for any information they were willing to share about Jedi. For a reclusive people, it was probable that they wouldn’t want to share anything about themselves, but he grew more and more curious with every moment.
Jaster crossed his arms and stared down at the note he’d written. He added another note:
“Cultural exchange?”
It would be educational and, after a few little comments from Kenobi about how the Jedi were treated by the Republic, perhaps it might be time to consider more friendly relations. The Jedi might be open to learning more about Mandalorian culture, if they were treated so disrespectfully, and it might be nice to have an actual exchange program, to have visitors come to them as well as sending representatives to live among the Jedi for a while.
There was a scratch at the door.
Jaster opened the door of his room and found Aranar, wide awake, and waiting for him. The moment it saw him, it raced to the door of Anakin’s room. It stood at attention, staring at the door with as much steady intensity as it would have at an approaching enemy in a battle. It didn’t move until Jaster got to the door and opened it and then it ran inside and carefully pulled little Kal out of the sleeping pit. Aranar put Kal on its’ back, like any good striil parent would keep its’ pup for safety, but then looked down into the sleeping pit and whined unhappily at Anakin.
The room was shaking. It was subtle - a painting on the wall, a chair in the corner of the room - but everything in the room trembled as Anakin cried in his sleep.
Anakin had curled into a little ball, his knees and elbows drawn up close to his body, and his fists were balled so tightly that his fingers were white. Tears ran freely from his closed eyes and his face was pale. He tossed his head back and forth but he stayed silent, no yelling or shouting despite how obviously disturbing his dreams were.
The glass in the small window cracked.
‘I really need to learn more about Jedi,’ Jaster thought.
Jaster knelt beside the sleeping pit and, without touching Anakin, said, “Anakin? An-ika? Time to wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” Then he raised his voice a little. “It’s alright. You’re safe. Time to wake up.”
Anakin went still. The room stopped shaking. His crying eased away. Slowly, he blinked opened his. “Boss?”
“Hello. Why don’t you sit up for a minute?”
Anakin didn’t sit up, he climbed out of the sleeping pit and sat on its’ edge, sniffling. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry. So sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for - I was already awake. Do you think you can go back to sleep?”
Anakin shook his head.
“Alright. Then come with me.” He led Anakin out of the sleeping room. They went passed Kenobi, who still slept, to the meal table. Aranar followed close at Anakin’s heels and didn’t seem inclined to leave him at any time. “Let’s sit for a bit.” When Anakin sat at the table, Jaster got him a glass of warm milk. “I think you’ll like this. It’s good to help people get some sleep.”
Anakin slowly sipped his drink and rubbed his bloodshot eyes, unhappily. “Thank you, Boss Jaster.”
“You’re very welcome. Would you like to talk about that dream?”
Anakin shook his head. “No.”
Jaster wouldn’t push. No good would come from it and Anakin had an appointment with the Psych-Medic in a few hours, so hopefully it would be dealt with there. They sat in silence. It had been a long time since Jaster had sat up with Jango because of a nightmare.
He knew very well that the nightmare was, most likely, because Anakin had killed someone. It was sad; Anakin was young for a first kill, even by Mandalorian standards, but it wasn’t uncommon for a child to have killed in order to protect themselves from some dire threat. The Psych-Medics would know how to best deal with it.
Jango had said, “I think Anakin has killed.”
They had all still been on the Bral. Anakin had been sleeping in the blanket nest with Aranar and Kal while the older boy, Obi-Wan, resting from the seizure, slept on the infirmary bed.
Jango went on, “He asked me if I ever stop feeling sick when I kill people. I know it’s not proof of anything, but the way he said it, the look in his eyes, I’d gambol my left boot that he’s had to kill someone.”
At the meal table, Anakin put both hands around the mug of warm milk and stared at it. “I miss my mom.” Anakin pushed the milk away then leaned forward and put his head on the table.
Jaster would move the stars and the moons to save Anakin from such pain, but even he couldn’t give Anakin what he most wanted. “Do you want to talk about her?”
“My mom gives great hugs.” Anakin fell silent as if there was nothing more important he could say about his mother.
“I’m sure your mother misses you, as well. It’s completely natural to have nightmares about being away from your mother, especially if this this the first time you’ve been separated.”
“I didn’t have bad dreams about mom. She wants me to be away from Tatooine so I don’t have to be a slave. I’m gonna make her so proud.”
“I’m sure you will.” He considered what little he knew of Anakin. There was a sickening possibility, considering an offhand comment Anakin had made. “Then were you dreaming about the senator? The one you told me was being creepy to you and your brother?” That was another detail he needed to see to. He really needed to find out if it was just a simple matter of Anakin not liking the senator or if the creepy senator was a threat that needed to be eliminated. “I don’t suppose you know that senator’s name?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t about him. I did something bad and I dreamed about it.” Anakin looked away from Jaster. “In Mandalorian school, are you sure I don’t gotta kill people?”
“Yes. I’m sure. You will learn how to fight and how to defend yourself, but you won’t kill anyone. I promise.”
Anakin nodded. “That’s good. I don’t want Obi to get mad at me.” Anakin gave a long sigh. “If the Jedi won’t let us live with them, can we stay here? I’ll work really hard to be a good Mandalorian.”
“You can absolutely stay here, if that’s what you want.” But, judging from the relieved face he’d seen from Master Windu when he’d caught a glimpse of Anakin during that too brief moment when they’d established a transmission connection, Jaster really didn’t think that was going to be an issue. The Jedi definitely wanted their children back - a strong mark in their favor. “Now, since you don’t think you can sleep, why don’t we do something fun while Kenobi sleeps? Would you like to learn some basic blaster maintenance?”
Anakin’s eyes lit up. “I’m real good with machines! I was building a droid for mom when... when I had to leave her.”
“Well, in that case, maybe I can find some broken blasters for you to play with.” He took Anakin’s hand and led him to the apartment’s modest armory, freshly stocked with Jaster and Jango’s personal weapons and plenty of room for new ones.
As Anakin explored the armory, Jaster considered how badly he would feel if anyone separated him from his children. It was an excellent, admirable notion Kenobi had to use the ship he’d been given as payment to buy Anakin’s mother, but it really shouldn’t be up to a youth to do such a thing. He should be able to keep his gift. All the same, Jaster couldn’t bring himself to ruin all Kenobi’s plans. He would keep his peace about the matter until Anakin’s mother was safely reunited with Anakin and Kenobi. After that... well.
“Boss Jaster?” Anakin asked, pointing up to a rather large, heavy rifle that hung on the wall. It was an elegant looking weapon with a bayonet blade strapped to the barrel. It had been a weapon favored by one of Jaster’s grandmothers. “Can I play with that one?”
“Sure.” He took it from the wall and handed it to Anakin.
Coruscant-
Palpatine-
Senator Palpatine watched in silent satisfaction while the office that was soon to be his, the Chancellor’s office, was decorated. New carpets, new art, new desk... all to his liking. It was a small step, perhaps, but it was also a sign that all was working out according to plan. Soon... very soon... he would legally be declared the official Chancellor of the Republic and, from there, it would only be a few more years of the appropriate words spoken to this person or that before he could assume complete control of everything.
A small flashing light on the computer on his new desk caught his attention.
“Well,” he said loudly enough to get the attention of all the workers in the room. “It’s been a long day. I think it’s time you all went home for the evening. Thank you so much for your help. It’s very much appreciated.” He spent a few minutes telling the workers how well they were doing, how much he respected their skills, and he wished them and their families well. They all left smiling and happy. The minute he was alone, he closed and locked the door of his future office.
He tapped the flashing light on his computer and watched as an image appeared on the screen. It was familiar, the landing area of the Jedi Temple. He’d had concealed security recorders installed months ago at the same time that he’d had recorders installed that observed the main entrance and the two small, lesser-known side exits of the Jedi Temple.
There were four ships landing. They were small and nondescript, the type that might have belonged to any mildly successful business or moderately well-off family. None of the ships had any ID that raised any alarms, just standard factory numbers.
Palpatine turned his head and looked out the office window. He could see the ships landing. One at a time, they set down on the Jedi’s small landing pad. He turned back to the computer and focused the image to get a closer look at what was happening. There were two Temple Guards, both wearing identical, pale robes and metal masks that completely concealed their faces. They were armed with lightsaber pikes and stood as if frozen in place, on either side of the Temple’s entrance, just as other Temple Guards stood at all entrances to the Temple. Even when the four ships opened their ramps and an occupant emerged from each ship, neither Temple Guard moved.
The four newcomers were unknown. They didn’t wear the robes of the Jedi and he had never seen them. That he didn’t recognize their faces was not really surprising, there were several thousand Jedi, some living in the Temple while others were spread out around the galaxy. The four strangers met together, exchanged a few words, then started walking to the Temple’s door. They were allowed to enter without even a single question from the Temple Guards and that, more than anything, made Palpatine’s eyes narrow with suspicion.
Temple Guards were known - to the people of Coruscant, at least - to be feared far more than the peace-loving Jedi, but there was little known about them. Even Palpatine had found precious little information. He couldn’t find a single name for even one of them. Logically, they were most likely Jedi, but he hadn’t been able to confirm that. They were fearsome, but unless one lived on Coruscant and actually went to the Jedi Temple, it was unlikely that one had even heard of the Temple Guards. No one entered the Jedi Temple without being confronted and questioned by the Temple Guards. It was not unheard of to have Temple Guards kill people who thought they could simply walk in. Despite that, the newcomers DID simply walked in.
Once the newcomers had gone into the Jedi Temple, Palpatine leaned back in his seat and thought. Most likely, the four newcomers were Jedi. Jedi were known to set aside their robes in order to complete a mission, after all. It was likely that they were Jedi returning to the Temple after their missions had ended. But to have four returning all at once did seem a bit odd.
He sat in his office for a few minutes, thinking. He leaned forward and tapped a button on his computer to cancel and reschedule his appointments, then left. It took only moments to reach the Jedi Temple and when he did, the Temple Guards, as he’d expected, stopped him at the door.
The two Temple Guards shifted their pikes, not in a threatening manner, but more of a warning.
As politely as anyone could ask for, Palpatine said, “I would like to speak with Master Yoda.”
They were silent, then one stood aside. The Temple door opened behind them and a Jedi, someone Palpatine neither knew nor cared about, emerged. “Senator,” she said. “Please follow me. Grandmaster Yoda has been informed of your visit and is waiting in the Council Chambers.”
The walk through the Temple was silent. They rarely encountered anyone as Palpatine was led through the Temple at the Jedi’s pace. He didn’t hurry her, but kept his mind still and at ease. When they arrived at the Council Chambers, the Jedi let him in, bowed to the room, then left, closing the door behind her.
Master Yoda was in the Council Chambers, standing in the center of the room, along with the four strangers, all wearing dull gray tunics belted at the waist with a simple rope. Master Yoda stood with both hands on his walking stick. “Senator Palpatine. This is an unexpected visit.”
“Well, considering the recent issues with your communication systems, I thought I might stop by. I was curious, you see. Not a good excuse to disturb your evening, but I’m afraid I let that curiosity get the better of me and I did want to know that your communication problem was nothing to worry about. If you need help with it, I hope you know you only have to ask.” Of course he knew it had been done deliberately, but there would be no profit in arguing such a petty slight.
“The senate’s generosity is well known to the Jedi.”
“I was informed,” Palpatine said. “That you’ve just received four ships at the Temple. I had hoped to hear good news about the missing children. Is it possible that they’ve been found?”
Master Yoda slowly shook his head. “I am grieved to report that they have not been recovered. Your consideration of them has been noted.” He motioned to the four people standing behind him. Firstly, he indicated a Wookie with long braids that had been decorated with metal beads. “This is Corpsman Ferlonna of the Medicorp.” He gestured next to a young human man who was so exceedingly unremarkable that he was sure to be forgotten. “This is Corpsman Pallo of Exploracorp.” Next there was a person who seemed to be an ugly mixture of several different species. “Corpsman Sal of Educorp.” The final person Yoda introduced was a human woman who did not stand. Instead, she sat on the arm of one of the Council Members seats. She was an older woman with steal gray hair and lines around her mouth and eyes and she stared at Palpatine as if she wanted to hurt him. “This is Corpsman Stara of the Agricorps.”
Palpatine smiled for them all, holding his hands together in front of him. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Will you be on Coruscant long?”
Corpsman Sal, that ugly mix, spoke up with a voice was that was entirely too strong, too confidant. “We are here to celebrate a Jedi holiday. It isn’t often that we are all able to return to see old friends we grew up with. We’ve been estranged for far too long.”
“I was unaware that Jedi observed holidays. May I ask more?”
“We are here for the Day of Service, a day in which we go out into the community to be of service to those who need us. Perhaps you would care to serve with us?” She raised her chin a little. “I would be pleased to have you serve the day at my side. I plan to go to the Undercity to bring educational materials to the people who are unable to afford schooling for themselves and their children. If that does not appeal to you, then Corpsman Strata,” she nodded at the angry, gray-haired woman. “Is going to bring food to the less fortunate of Coruscant and Corpsman Ferlonna is going into one of the free clinics to help with their terrible workload. I assure you - we are all willing to take you with us into the Undercity.”
To go into that filth? To the unwashed masses that were little more than scavenging animals? No. Still, he smiled. “It is a welcoming offer and while I applaud your generosity to those who need it most on our dear Coruscant, I’m afraid I have much work to do.”
“Yes. Grandmaster Yoda has informed us of your new title. It must have been unexpected.”
Unexpected? It was almost enough to make Palpatine laugh. It had all been planned years in advance. So many small, discrete steps taken had led to this moment and many of those steps had been taken by others well before he’d been born. But there were more steps to be taken before the plans were fully realized. Years worth of steps before the end goal was reached. He made himself as humble as possible when he said, “Unexpected or not, I live only to serve the Republic.”
“Indeed.” Corpsman Sal neither smiled nor frowned, but held Palpatine’s gaze steadily.
There was nothing in the ugly mix that he could read as troublesome to his plans. She was calm and honest. There was no deception in her. “Forgive me for asking,” he said. “But may I ask what relationship the Corpsmen have with the Jedi Order? I’m afraid I’m not terribly familiar with either one. I have been led to believe that the Corps was staffed by those had, forgive me if I must be blunt, failed to earn a place among the Jedi. Is this true?”
It was the Wookie - dreadful thing, no more a person than a tooka - who spoke and, when she did, she spoke with the rough, guttural, growling sort of way that all Wookies did when they spoke Basic rather than their own language. “All of us grew up in this Temple. That is true.”
He had expected, almost hoped to find, some bitterness in that. It was well known that the Jedi Masters only chose the best of their younglings to be trained as real Jedi while the rest, those not quite smart enough or fast enough or good enough were relegated to the various branches of the Corps. It was a pale ending for those who had surely dreamed of a future filled with lightsabers and the respect they would be given by wearing the brown robes of a Jedi, but they at least had food and shelter and a purpose for otherwise failed lives.
Not one of them, and he cast his mind subtly around the room, were a threat to him or his plans. There wasn’t one that was Force Sensitive enough to last even a few minutes in a battle against him. He didn’t even sense any turbulent emotions from them. Even the angry woman, Corpsman Stara, was calm.
“I will leave you, now. I do hope you’ll forgive this imposition. I hadn’t meant to intrude on this reunion. Have a good evening.”
***
For a long while after returning to his apartment, Palpatine sat and thought. Yoda was hiding something. He wasn’t entirely sure what or why, or why he believed the visitors had anything to do with it, but he knew deception. Whatever Yoda was playing it, it wasn’t precisely a lie, but deception all the same.
That deception had started when, earlier, Yoda had pretended to temporarily lose his mind before he had abruptly disconnected the transmission after refusing to allow Palpatine to socialize with Kenboi and Skywalker. That hadn’t been entirely unexpected, if displeasing. He had little doubt he could either force the Jedi Council’s hand in allowing him to have those boys or he could merely persuade Kenobi that there was no harm in a little socializing and where Kenobi went, Skywalker was sure to follow. Kenobi seemed open and willing to believe in the goodness of others, he would be easy to control.
No matter what Yoda had planned, Palpatine was sure he could find some way around it. No matter what, he would have those boys at his side. The power that radiated from Skywalker was so tempting that it almost had Palpatine drooling at the possibilities he presented, and Kenobi’s unexpected killing of Maul hinted strongly at skill that lay hiding under the surface of a modest youth. Palpatine knew perfectly well how skilled Maul had been and he hadn’t once guessed that young Kenobi would have had any chance of standing against him. If Kenobi managed to survive his exposure to Arkon Waves and if Skywalker mustered the control needed to wield the Force, he would have them.
“And not only them.” Palpatine activated his personal communicator and, making sure that all security measures were activated to prevent any surveillance, he input the private communication code he had long since memorized. There was one other person who had potential to be extremely useful to Palpatine’s plans. One other person who had been damaged by the death of Qui-Gon Jinn.
A few moments passed before the transmission was accepted and, above the communicator on his desk, the blue-tone image of the receiver appeared.
“Senator.”
As often as Palpatine liked to congratulate himself on how well-thought out his plans were, he was entirely surprised to see Mace Windu’s face projected above his communicator. “Master Windu? What a surprise. I was attempting to contact Master Dooku.”
To Be Continued...