Chapter 16, This is How Democracy Dies

The Jedi Temple, Coruscant:

Damian left Jason in the passenger hold of the Scarlet Thranta behind the rayshield trap he had set. He wished Todd could see sense. Wished the man could block out the feelings he had developed for that harlot Tano and look at the situation from the perspective of one trapped in a world to which he did not belong. Of all his brothers, Damian had believed that Todd alone might come to see his point of view. For all his faults, Todd looked at things logically and could even, when the circumstance called for it, set aside his pre-programed code of conduct to get a job done. He did not follow blindly as Grayson and Drake so often seemed too.

But I was mistaken in him. And now I've been forced to hurt him. Though that couldn't be helped I suppose. He should not have been so foolish as to embrace an impossible dream. Leave that to Grayson; one romantically inclined idiot is quite enough to deal with.

Survive. They only had to survive. There was no need for heroics or grand plans. Damian had to remind himself of this constantly. He had to remind himself that, while the dangers of this world posed a very real threat to their persons back home, that was the only thing real about their situation at all. Ahsoka Tano wasn't real. Neither was Yoda. Or Anakin. Or Iki.

So why do I still feel like this is wrong? Why do I feel like I've betrayed them? They aren't real, it's true, but when they die will I change my mind?

Logically, that made no sense. Either they were alive, or they weren't. Either he was doing the right thing, or he wasn't. However many shades of gray Grayson claimed to see, Damian saw only black and white. In this case, the right thing to do was to save his brothers from their own naivete and blindness. No matter the cost. Which made him right. Or so he supposed.

Damian walked briskly away from the Serenity Spire transport garage where he had left Todd and the Scarlet Thranta. In minutes Palpatine's red guards would fly his brother to safety in the Pleth Foundry in Coruscant's industrial district, known colloquially as the works. There they would wait only for Drake to be taken into custody as well before heading to the safety of the Sith stronghold on the volcanic planet, Mustafar.

Palpatine had put the entirety of the red guard under Damian's authority. All the forces the Sith had at his back were now also the forces of his apprentice, Darth Rubin. Which did have its perks. He had strictly commanded the guards to bring Todd to Mustafar unharmed. In his own words, "if there is so much as a scratch or a bruise on him inflicted by one of you, you will all perish. I will carve your insides out with a spoon, and then set them ablaze in front of your eyes." Only when he was satisfied that they had understood him clearly did he leave Todd securely in their custody.

Now to deal with Drake, he thought.

He turned the corner and headed for the turbo lift, up to the spire's landing pad. Once safely alone and free from the prying eyes of the Jedi, he pulled the black hood away from his face. He folded his arms into the wide sleeves of the voluminous outer cloak and breathed into the silence. The Sith had given him new clothes to replace his Jedi robes. And while he disapproved of the symbolic gesture, he rather agreed with the new aesthetic. He had intensely disliked the impractical, flowing, cream-colored robes of the Jedi. They were as pointless, whitewashed, and cumbersome as the ideals the order represented.

Presently, the doors to the turbolift slid back into pockets in the wall. Damian stepped out onto the landing pad and made a beeline for the bright orange speeder Palpatine had put at his disposal. He slid into the pilot's seat and flicked the speeder to life. Setting the transponder frequency to signal the traffic droids he was a Jedi knight, Damian took the small craft up and away from the temple. He could have had a pilot droid, the offer had been made, but Damian preferred to keep as much power in his own hands as possible. He might be willing to work with the Sith, but he was a far cry from trusting the man. He was desperate. Not foolish. Luckily, Palpatine seemed to respect that.

Speaking of Palpatine…Damian dialed the Sith Lord's secured commlink frequency. The man in question answered almost instantly.

"Have you completed your mission, Darth Rubin?" Palpatine demanded without preamble. His voice was like the edge of a dark knife and Damian wondered if Trigon sounded much different.

"I have, my master. Todd no longer threatens our plans. He would not divulge to me any information regarding his mission to the bunker—save that he and Tano survived the explosion—but I'm inclined to believe he knows more than he is letting on," said Damian. He braced himself, certain Darth Sidious would demand he interrogate his brother more thoroughly.

To his surprise however, Palpatine held his peace. "It matters not," the Sith said dismissively, "everything is going according to plan."

Damian had learned from his grandfather not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he said, "as you say, my master."

"Things are well in hand. The holo-vid you retrieved from the records of the Jedi council chamber is all the evidence of treason I need. Spun in the right way, I assure you the senate will turn on their pathetic Jedi order and the Empire will be born. But that is my task. Your next task is to commandeer command of the 501st Clone division, formerly under the command of Anakin Skywalker, and to lead them against the Jedi Temple. Leave no one alive."

Damian knew the next words out of his mouth ought to be "it shall be done my master" or something to that effect, but he elected to risk asking Sidious the obvious question; "why would they follow me? The Clones are loyal to the Jedi. How am I to take command of them?"

Again, Sidious held his temper. When he spoke, Damian even thought he detected a hint of amused satisfaction in the Sith's voice. "The Clones will betray the Jedi. Every last one of them will commit themselves to my service and gun down those they formerly served, all in the name of the empire. The Jedi order will perish as I have foreseen it."

Gun down the Jedi. Every last one. Damian suddenly felt sick, as though a cold stone had been dropped into his belly and begun to rot. But Grayson is a Jedi. He's off on Utapau with Kenobi and Skywalker. For Grayson's sake, Damian once again dared his master's wrath. "My brother is a Jedi."

"Yes. Yes," said Sidious irritably, "such things cannot be helped I suppose. I will order the Clones to make an acceptation for your precious Dick Grayson provided you do exactly as I instruct. They will take him prisoner and put his under your custody. I trust you can keep him out of my way in exchange for this boon."

"I shall, my master," said Damian readily. Anything for Grayson. Never mind that it was already part of their deal, but it was best not to push his luck. He was reckless yes, but not foolish. And like Palpatine and his father, Damian Wayne could be subtle and manipulative. It was a trait that came in handy when playing the part of an obsequious bard. "Whatever you wish, Lord Sidious. I am yours to command."

The Sith seemed placated for the moment. "You have spoken wisely, Darth Rubin. Now go to the GAR barracks and take command of the 501st. The end of the republic is upon us."

"It shall be done, my Lord."

Damian cut the transmission. He adjusted his course for the Grand Army of the Republic HQ where he would find the 501st clone division. He dipped the speeder below the strictly regulated air traffic flightpaths and made his own way towards the republic military complex. Technically speaking, he was breaking any number of Coruscant's strict traffic regulations in favor of speed, but the Jedi transponder code signaled to all traffic cams and droids that he was above such laws. At least this once, the Jedi were useful.

The Red Guards will have to take care of Drake, he thought. But they can take him in. Drake doesn't carry weapons, and so long as they take him from inside the senate offices, he won't have any substantial back up. Soon, Drake and Grayson would join Todd in protective custody and be shipped off to Mustafar to wait out the bloodbath which was to come. And then all Damian's worries could evaporate. Once Palpatine had control of this galaxy and the story was over, they could all return to their own world safely. There would never be a need to speak of any of this nonsense again. Damian would have his family safe.

With that goal in mind, he contacted the red guards at the senate.

An unfamiliar low voice answered. "Captain Regnis of the chancellor's guard, how might I serve you Master Rubin?"

"You are to take Timothy Drake into protective custody and bring him to the Scarlet Thranta, and from there to these coordinates on Mustafar." Looking away from the air traffic for a brief moment, he transmitted the coordinates of the Sith castle. "Use whatever means necessary, but I want him alive and uninjured. Fail in this, and there is no place you can run I won't find you. If he's hurt, I will hunt you down and I will kill you. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, Lord Rubin," said the guard. He sounded suitably serious; reserved yet afraid. As well he should. "He shall be in our custody by nightfall."

"See to it," said Damian. And he cut the communication link.

In the distance, the long blockish buildings of the republic army complex were coming into view. There were a couple of the massive cruisers docked into the vast open-air hangar zones awaiting repair and a few smaller LAAT gunships ferried troops between the buildings. The clone troops were going about their work efficiently, fueled by a sense of purpose and duty—perhaps even misplaced loyalty to the republic that commissioned them—completely unaware that their fate would be forever altered in just a few hours. Damian felt a pang of guilt and regret, a kind of sorrow reserved only for soldiers who blindly followed what they perceived as their duty. They didn't deserve any of this. Not even the Jedi deserved to die, pompous and blind though they were.

But their fate mattered less than the fate of his brothers. It was that simple. Because they're only movie characters.

Damian parked the speeder in one of the upper transport garages above hangar B04. There was spot between two royal blue lines marked "Jedi". Now he had only to find the men of the 501st and get his mission over with. Palpatine would not back down from his plan. So neither would Damian.

For my brothers, he thought. Damian steeled his shoulders back. I have a mission.

The Senate Rotunda, Coruscant's Government District:

When Palpatine called an emergency meeting of the senate, Tim mentally prepared himself for the worst. Now, sitting beside Bail in the box designated for the representatives of Alderaan, his worst suspicions were realized.

Palpatine stood at the center of the Galactic Republic senate on a raise balcony atop a thin spire. He addressed the assembly with affected horror, sadness, and disbelief as he regaled the senators with the story of the Jedi's betrayal. He looks pointedly towards those certain senators who would be mostly likely to disbelieve and protest his narrative—such as Padme Amidala, Bail Organa, and the Pantoran senator Ryou Chuchi—and drove his point home with the pressure of his emotional gaze. The story he told was one of high treason, espionage, and conspiracy. And worst of all, Tim was fairly certain the story was true; that the events the Chancellor described actually transpired. He surmised Palpatine had somehow discovered that which he should not and was now using this information to spin the story in his favor.

Tim was well aware of both the nature of politicians and the power of the press. With careful editing, a story might be made to prove anything. With the proper sugar coating, people would be willing to gobble down anything crammed into their throats. And so he watched and he listened with growing dread. Order 66 was only hours away. Perhaps minutes. Perhaps seconds.

"This is preposterous," Bail hissed beside him.

Tim did not look at the man; he couldn't risk dropping his poker face and revealing everything he knew. Or suspected. A senator's aid was not supposed to be going through Kaminoan files on the cloning process, reading incident archives locked by the chancellor's office, or developing a method by which to take out the entire clone army in one fell swoop. And certainly Tim Drake, by all accounts an average citizen, should not know the future. Such matters were for the Jedi.

So he kept his eyes on Palpatine. "He's going to declare them traitors and enemies of the Republic. The entire order." He said it simply. Without any emotion. He was proud of that.

Bail merely shook his head. "So that's it then. The Oder will fall under investigation, the Jedi council arrested, and order disbanded."

"Or worse."

But just when Tim had managed to convince himself that the situation could not get any worse, Palpatine revealed the evidence for his allegations; a recording of the Jedi council in session. A holographic image of the high council chamber filled the room. Blue scanned images of worried and terrified faces looked up at two figures suspended in the air. Tim was horrified to see that he recognized them. One was Anakin Skywalker who, after their brief introduction outside the senate building, he was inclined to like well enough. The other was his brother, Dick Grayson.

The figures remained in the air for only a second longer before falling boneless and graceless to the tiled floor of the projected council chamber. And then the audio kicked in. Mace Windu addressed the council, "in light of this…prophetic revelation…from the Force, I suggest we confront the chancellor and insist on his abdication of the title and renounce his emergency powers. Forcefully if necessary."

"Removed from office. But isn't that treason?" Ki-adi Mundi pointed out.

"Palpatine's betrayal is the treason. If we are to follow the Force in this matter, we cannot be afraid of words like treason. I am prepared to act alone if I must, but he cannot be allowed to continue in office."

"No," said Yoda wrapping his gimmer stick on the floor, "proof we need. Proof not Jedi prophesy will the people need, if broken their faith in the supreme Chancellor will be."

Dick raised his head from the floor. "We'll have proof. The Red Hood, you've met him, is even now locating Palpatine's private bunker. All the proof we need will be in there I'm sure of it. But please, wait for him to get it. Don't do anything rash that we'll all regret."

"Agree with Knight Grayson, I do," said Yoda, "wait on the Red Hood we will. Till proof we have, move against him we must not."

Even in the imperfect holo-graphic recording, Mace Windu looked outraged and yet contained; like a man holding in an explosion but the coldness of willpower alone. "But when the time comes, and the time will come, we must remove him from office. The Si…"

The video cut out just before Mace could say a word that Tim strongly suspected was "Sith." The recording had been carefully trimmed and edited to avoid any mention of Palpatine's connection to the Sith. That much was obvious. Any discussion of Palpatine's betrayal, and Tim knew the recording was chockablock with it, had been either spliced or simply been discussed before and after the carefully curated clip shown to the senate.

But as Tim could have predicted, Palpatine had an answer for that as of yet unvoiced question. "For security reasons, I cannot play the whole session for you here and now. The investigators are still going over the footage and it took me some tome to convince them that I should show you anything of this at all," he said.

It was a lie and not a particularly good one. But somehow Tim wasn't surprised that the senators seemed to believe it. The greedy squabbling delegates that comprised the senate were too preoccupied with pleasing a handful of influential constituents, writing new tax legislation, and debating minor matters in useless committees. They forsook logic and reason in favor of an easy scapegoat on which to blame their mismanagement of the war. As the generals commanding the army, the Jedi were the perfect candidates. Tim could have facepalmed, darkly amused by their gullibility, if the situation weren't so serious. If Palpatine weren't about to announce the creation of the first Galactic Empire and the execution of Order 66.

Below and around Tim and the Alderanian box, murmurs of the disbelieving and shocked senators filled the rotunda. Those who had already processed the recording seemed to be angrier with the figures in the recording than anything else. An objective truth, irrelevant. An investigation, unnecessary. A fair trial, time consuming. They believed—or at least went along with—anything Palpatine had to say.

"So as you can see," Palpatine continued, "the Jedi are not only plotting to betray me, the nominal leader of the senate, but the senate itself. They are planning to overthrow the elected leader of this republic and take control of this entire governing body themselves. We have given the Jedi too much power—given them control of the greatest army the galaxy has ever seen—and they have abused this honor." Palpatine waited for the grumbling and the angry outbursts to dissipate. He pated the air gently to quell the senate then continued. "My good senators do not lose hope. The Jedi shall stand trial and pay for the crimes against the Republic. We can yet preserve our way of life. This Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire."

His speech was met with cheers and whistles. Senators were on their feet showing support for Palpatine and his plans. They were swept up in the frenzy of both fear and an unanchored sense of patriotism.

Beside Tim, Senator Organa rose to his feet. His hand hovered above the green recognition button; the button a senator would press when politely and discretely requesting the opportunity to address the assembly. It also came in handy in times like these, when the senate was in complete disorder and boisterous voices bounced off the walls of the great rotunda so that one could never be heard. It took Tim a moment to realize what the senator from Alderaan was doing. When he did, he reached over and grabbed the man's hand.

"Don't," Tim warned, "don't draw attention to yourself. Can't you see what's happening? Don't you see how dangerous it is to stand up to Palpatine? Even the Jedi order can't do it, what makes you think you'll have better luck?"

Bail looked down at him. An undiscernible darkness clouded his eyes. "What do you know about all this Timothy? What is going on here? Has your Jedi brother told you anything?"

"Yes," said Tim, almost in a whisper. It was the easiest way to get around outing himself. Convenient even. Blaming everything on Dick was at least something he could do. "That recording of the Jedi council is only part of the story. Palpatine conveniently cut out the discussion about why the Jedi felt the need to remove him from office in the first place."

"They want to remove him because, as they see it, he has too much power. And they seem to be basing their actions on some prophesy. While I have always thought very highly of the Jedi, and even now I was prepared to peak up on their behalf, everything about this situation feels wrong," Bail said.

"Chancellor—"Tim corrected himself, "Emperor Palpatine is the Sith Lord the Jedi have been looking for. A Jedi team uncovered the evidence, but they were killed before they could bring it up. The Red Hood was sent to retrieve it. Hopefully with better luck. There was an explosion. The Red Hood hasn't come back as far as anyone knows. So don't try to stand up to Palpatine. You won't survive it."

Bail seemed to swallow. "What will happen to the Jedi if I don't speak up?"

"They'll die," said Tim. "And you'll die with them if you don't keep your mouth shut. Look at these senators around you. Look at them. They're not interested in reason. Or saving the Jedi. You're out matched and alone on this one. The Republic is gone. Democracy is dead. You have an emperor now. And he isn't interested in what you have to say. None of them are. The only way you can help the Jedi and uncover the truth is outside the senate domain."

Bail seemed to consider. Then he nodded. Tim was right after all. He usually was. Unfortunately.

But as much as Tim had been hoping to avoid this scenario altogether, and as bad as things were, there was something else eating at him. A nagging in the back of his mind that just wouldn't go away for anything. Just how had Palpatine come by that recording of the council chamber? Obviously some traitor had leaked it to him; but whom?

Tim's first suspect was Anakin Skywalker. But that was unlikely in this altered timeline. Anakin was with Dick and Obi-Wan on Utapau. Furthermore, Dick watched the guy like a hawk. Tim knew from personal experience that once Dick had locked onto a target, it was near impossible to do anything without his knowledge. He was Bruce and, well like Tim himself, in that way.

The other possibility that came to mind was a thousand times worse. Tim almost felt the need to apologize for even thinking it. But then again, he did have good reason. Damian. If he was right about this, the betrayal cut him to the core. He wanted desperately to be wrong. Wanted Damian to be innocent. Wanted to have to apologize to his little brother for even thinking it was possible. But in his gut, Tim knew it was the truth. When he added things up, it all fit perfectly.

One, Dick wasn't watching Damian, he was watching Anakin. Two, the strange comm-call from a day ago. Three, Damian had never liked Dick's plan. Four, Damian loved Dick Grayson with every fiber of his little gremlin being. IF Dick was in trouble, Damian would do the most stupid and foolish things. Even striking a deal with the Sith if it meant he could keep his brothers safe.

Tim felt as though he understood. He hadn't a scrap of evidence. He didn't even full know for sure what was going on. But he trusted his gut. It hadn't steered him wrong yet.

For all Damian's bluster and rough edges, the kid had grown to love them all in his own way. First Dick. Then Jason. And finally, Tim had become his family. It had taken Tim forever to see what Dick saw in the brat, but at some point, he did see it. Damian loved them all with a fierce protectiveness that rivaled Bruce. And since he was raised by Ras AlGuhl for the better part of his life, the kid sometimes still acted on the principal that the ends justified the means.

In an odd way, Tim could see how Damian working for Palpatine would make sense. Palpatine threatened them so, Damian struck a deal with the man to save them. It was actually pretty straightforward in a twisted sort of way. And as much as Tim was going to pissed with the kid when his suspicions were confirmed, he also felt nothing but a sad kind of love for the boy who had become his little brother.

The whole thing was a nightmare.

And then it got worse.

Tim allowed his mind to wander over everything Damian could possibly be working out when a thought struck him.

Oh shit.

"I gotta get out of here," said Tim. He abruptly got to his feet and headed for the door to the Alderaan box that would lead out into the hall behind the senate rotunda.

Bail Organa looked at him, wide eyed. "Why? What's the matter?"

"My brother, I think he's working with Palpatine, which means…"

Bail looked confused. "But I thought your bother was a Jedi. That he was trying to take down…"

"Not that brother. A different one." Tim slipped out into the hall and began walking briskly back to Organa's office to get his data pad and all the research he'd put into the clones and Order 66.

"Timothy, wait. You're not making any sense." Bail followed him into the hall, jogging to catch up. "Will you just slow down and explain what's going on!"

A muscular hand fell on Tim's shoulder and spun him around. He was suddenly faced with a set of confused, panicked, slightly paternal eyes. Bail's expression was so open and honest and concerned—so unlike the standoffishness of Bruce Wayne—that he almost had to do a double take. Make sure he wasn't imaging things.

"I told you I have three brothers. Damian, the youngest, I think he's the one that leaked that footage of the council to Palpatine. I think he's working with the Sith in exchange for our lives. Palpatine won't kill us as long as Damian is a good little apprentice and does as he's told." Bail looked like he wanted to interrupt, but Tim held up a hand. "But Palpatine isn't going to let me, Dick, and Jason keep messing up his plans. He'll still want us out of the way. Which means, Damian will had to stash us somewhere out of the way where we can't do any damage."

They started walking again, back to the office.

Tim led the way, keeping a brisk pace. "Unless I miss my guess, one of Palpatine's people is coming to take me into 'protective custody' right now."

Bail didn't seem satisfied. "Kid, you're still not making any sense. Sith, messing up plans, protective custody, getting you out of the way? What threat could you possibly be to anyone."

Tim stopped short and the door to Organa's office and turned back to the man. "I'm sorry Senator Organa, but I'm dangerous. Palpatine means to use the Clone Army to execute the entire Jedi Order. I can kill his entire army with the stroke of a button. That's how I can mess up his plans. And both he and Damian know it."

The Grand Army of the Republic HQ, Coruscant:

Palpatine's hologram shut off in a flash of blue.

Standing in the Clone intelligence communication center with the officers and company commanders, Damian realized that this was the moment he proved his loyalty and usefulness to the Sith Lord. He could not mess things up. Not when his brothers' lives were on the line.

He turned to the Captain of the 501st Clone Division. "Get the men on the gunships. We march on the Jedi Temple immediately. We must deal with these traitors before they can escape to destroy the new empire."

"Sir, yes sir," said Clone Captain Rex when Damian showed him his lightsaber. He snapped to attention, worn white and blue helmet tucked smartly under one arm, chin set, eyes front. The man was a hardened soldier. Damian could instantly see as much without peeking at his personality through the Force. Good. Damian liked working with soldiers, perhaps a side effect of living with his grandfather.

But though Rex and the 501 seemed to be the perfect soldiers—the accepted his leadership as Palpatine commanded them—he could also see they questioned his ability. As much as it rankled him, Damian could be reasonable. He realized respect had to be earned and as such, he endeavored to act at the perfect commanding office despite his age and stature.

Fortunately for Damian, Emperor Palpatine—for such he must now be called—had already order the execution of Order 66. The Clone troopers who had been previously so loyal to Anakin Skywalker that they tried to arrest him at first, quickly did a 180 and swung round to obeying his every world. So the Emperor had commanded them. And so would they do.

He watched in both awe and horror as the entire company of white armored men marched up to the LAAT gunships and loaded in. Wave after wave of faceless soldiers, for so they seemed to Damian who had yet to look them in the eye, prepared for battle. The attack on the temple would be a massacre. A killing ground for both clones and Jedi.

Damian wasn't entirely sure why they would collectively set aside their past relationship with Anakin so quickly in favor of Palpatine's orders, but he didn't much care. He had a job to do. The why was irrelevant.

For Grayson, he reminded himself. For Todd and Drake.

Touching the tips of his fingers to the lightsaber bouncing at his hip, Damian followed Captain Rex to the forward most gunship and stepped aboard. A few minutes later, the doors slid shut and the gunship lifted off. Briefly, he thought of Iki and Yoda back at the temple. He thought about what it would be like if he had to face them. A pang of guilt twitched in his gut.

But this is just a movie. They aren't real. I can get a blue-ray copy of "Revenge of the Sith" at Bull Moose for $14.95. None of this is real.

Author's Note: Supposing you found yourself trapped in Control Freak's Star Wars survival challenge with your siblings/friends, what would you do? Would you go along with Dick's plan and fight on behalf of the Jedi, or would you pull a Damian and work with Palpatine to survive? I think they both have a point.

Sorry this chapter wasn't a lot of fun. Usually I like to throw in some goofy banter and levity, but I couldn't work it in here.

As always, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. May the Force be with you all and stay awesome :)