PROPHECY: BEYOND GOOD & EVIL

The Reckoning

Part I of VI

Dissolution Day +79

SUBTERREL SECTOR, Polis Massa

14:45 hours

The briefing had been lengthy and fraught with tension. Not that the venerable Jedi Master had expected any less when the military leadership of the Rebel Alliance had requested he join them and be present while they convened to discuss the Empire, and their campaign to bring it down. From his own past experiences, the Kel Dor had come to learn long ago that internal strife and infighting went hand in hand with the world of politics… and admittedly, he had never been particularly fond of that world. By nature, politics invariably led to conflict and discord. He had seen it time and time again over his many years, and it seemed that, much to his disappointment, even the top–ranking members of the Rebellion were not above throwing stones. He had witnessed yet another shining example of this when tempers had flared during the meeting which concerned a recent blow delivered to the fledgling organization by Imperial spies, and a heated debate had erupted between the assembled Republic loyalists.

As usual, the Jedi Master had refrained from speaking unless spoken to, and had, for the most part, kept his own personal views and opinions to himself. Such had been the case when he had sat on the Jedi Council prior to the great purge, and such was the case now. More often than not, he would simply observe and give his input only when those around him sought his advice, or asked for his perspective on a specific issue. And while the Rebel commandants had, in this case, asked him to participate and share his thoughts, his words had fallen on deaf ears amid the incessant bickering, and his involvement had made no impact. In more ways than one, their lack of patience and unwillingness to compromise had been reminiscent of the inner workings of the Galactic Senate before its collapse. In the end, they had quarreled over their devastating defeat and little to nothing had been resolved.

Stepping out of the Rebellion's designated conference chambers, the faint sound of several raised voices still audible but gradually fading in the distance, Plo Koon put the unpleasant ordeal behind him and thoughtfully stroked his chin while he lost himself in deep contemplation. If only Master Kenobi and Senator Amidala had returned from their assignment on Tatooine. Somehow, the indomitable politician from Naboo had always possessed the remarkable ability to mollify even the most belligerent of her peers. While others would argue and dispute, the young senator had proven herself the voice of reason on countless occasions. And if ever her extraordinary talent to unite feuding sides had been needed, it was with the group he had just left. He couldn't help but wonder how differently the session might have gone had she been there…

Making his way down the winding corridors toward the medicenter, Master Koon folded his hands beneath his dark robes and, with the assistance of the Force, cleared his mind. It would do him no good to dwell on the past, or fret over things that he could not change. Instead, as was the way of the Jedi, he would concentrate on the here and now, and put his quandary aside until he could meditate and better determine what course to take.

Once he reached the infirmary, Plo quietly drifted inside and immediately started toward the only occupied bed in the facility. He sidestepped a busied medical droid when it hovered in his direction, and very nearly collided with him.

So absorbed in the datapad clutched in its metallic appendage, the droid didn't even notice the Jedi's arrival until he cleared his throat to make his presence known. "You must be more careful, my industrious friend."

"Oh, my most sincere apologies," the droid replied before returning its full attention to the electronic pad, and continuing on its way.

Plo said nothing more as he turned back to the patient lying in the bed just ahead of him. Half expecting to find Master Fisto standing at her bedside, he approached the sleeping Twi'lek and stared down at her for a moment before shifting his focus to her padawan. Having obviously dozed off unintentionally sometime during the late morning hours, Aayla Secura's apprentice sat in a chair beside her master; knees tucked close to her chest and head lolled to one side while she slept. Moving around to the edge of the bed, he stooped forward and pulled her blanket up over her sienna shoulders when she trembled due to the biting chill of the medicenter's artificial air. She stirred, but didn't wake as he straightened and took a step back.

Watching her, he could still recall his mission to the small world of Shili so many years earlier… she had been so tiny then, no more than an infant. She had been hungry and alone, lost and confused as her planet was engulfed and ravaged by civil war. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Since that time, Ahsoka Tano had grown both in body and mind. She was no longer that frightened child, but had blossomed into an exceptionally gifted young woman. If not for her impatience and a tendency to defy authority, he felt that, considering how far she had come in her training and given the level of her skills, she would likely have already been knighted. When thinking about her, the Kel Dor couldn't help but be reminded of his old friend and fellow Jedi, Qui–Gon Jinn, and his frequent clashes with the High Council. While the other Jedi had been deeply respected by the likes of Master Yoda and himself, it had been his unorthodox beliefs and his own stubbornness that had kept him from taking a seat on the Council himself.

But also, he could still see some of the Togruta's former mentor in her. Her inability to control her emotions, the unmistakable undercurrent of anger that threatened to boil to the surface and disturbed him so, her penchant for using brute strength over reason; these were all traits that had belonged to one Anakin Skywalker. She had not been his student for long, but it was plain to see that their bond had never been entirely severed. In spite of the profound connection that she now shared with Master Secura, remnants of Skywalker's teachings still remained.

"Master Plo?"

Turning back to the bed, the Jedi Master smiled beneath his antiox mask when he saw a set of tired, leaden eyes regarding him with curiosity. Having spent several days healing in a bacta tank, the worst of Aayla Secura's injuries had mended, but she was still weak and undernourished, and her body still recuperating from the trauma it had endured.

"I am glad to see you are doing well," he greeted the wounded Twi'lek with a reverent nod. "The medical droids tell us that you have made much progress in your recovery. How do you feel?"

Her curiosity abating as she slowly came to her senses, Aayla began to lift her head until the elder Jedi moved forward and gingerly rested a palm on her shoulder; preventing her from sitting up.

"There is no need for that," he assured her. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"What's going on?" she asked, wincing in pain and submitting without resistance. "Is something wrong?"

"You need not concern yourself," he replied as she sank back into her pillow. "I only came to see how you were doing…"

"I will survive," Aayla said, releasing a labored sigh.

"And for that, we are all thankful," came the Jedi Master's earnest response.

Aayla offered a weak smile of gratitude, but it quickly faded. "How is my padawan?"

Plo followed her gaze when she looked to Ahsoka's sleeping form. "She has not left your side since you arrived."

"Yes, so I have heard," Aayla pensively replied; her voice strained and barely above a whisper. "She has been a good apprentice, and I am very proud of her. But I must admit that I sometimes worry for her."

"Might I inquire as to what exactly you worry about?" Plo wondered, once again clasping his hands beneath his cloak.

"She does not adjust to change well. Her reaction to everything that has happened…" Aayla trailed off, blinking and allowing another sigh to escape her lips. "More than anything else, she struggles with her attachments. I fear that when the time comes, she may not be able to let go."

"We all must learn to deal with our attachments in our own way," Plo stated, doing his best to provide what little comfort he could. "This is perhaps the most difficult aspect of being a Jedi, and a challenge that is never easy to overcome. It is a constant struggle for all of us, but one that is necessary. You must have faith that, in time, Ahsoka will find her way."

Staring at the stark white ceiling directly above her, Aayla took a moment to digest the magnanimous Kel Dor's advice.

"I do," she said, at last.

Their conversation was interrupted a few seconds later when Plo's comlink suddenly chimed. Retrieving the device from its notch on his belt, he glanced over at Ahsoka to make sure that the shrill noise hadn't roused her before turning back to her master.

"I suppose I should be taking this," he said while inclining his head. "Do you require any attention from the droids?"

"I will be fine," Aayla replied. "Thank you, Master Plo."

MOS EISLEY, Outskirts

18:10 hours

Not a word had been uttered since the trio had bid Tarah farewell, and set out to find Padmé's star skiff. Hidden just beyond Mos Eisley's borders, it didn't take them long to reach the ship, and the fretful protocol droid awaiting their arrival. Riding beside R2–D2 in the backseat of their landspeeder, Padmé had been looking between the two Jedi sitting directly in front of her with a mixture of confusion and trepidation; neither of them having exchanged so much as a glance for the whole of their journey. She wasn't entirely sure what had been said after she and Anakin had returned from their trip to the Dune Sea, and she had left them to speak in private, but she had surmised that there had been a confrontation easily enough. It seemed almost childish the way they refused to look each other in the eye, or even acknowledge that the other existed. If not for the very real and serious rift that now separated Obi–Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, she might have laughed at the absurdity of their behavior.

Padmé pulled herself from her thoughts when their speeder slowed to a halt, and the blue and silver astromech seated to her left whistled in excitement. Anakin was the first to climb out of the vehicle; followed by a still rather stiff Obi–Wan, and finally Padmé herself. C–3PO could hardly contain his joy as they made their way toward him.

"Oh, Mistress Padmé! Master Kenobi!" the protocol droid eagerly greeted them. "Welcome back! I trust your visit was productive?"

"Threepio?" Anakin spoke next.

"Bless my circuits, the Maker!" C–3PO exclaimed in delight. "Master Ani, it is so good to see you again!"

"You've had some upgrades," Anakin replied, giving him an appraising once–over. "I almost didn't recognize you with the gold plating. Very distinguished."

"Why, thank you, Master Ani…" Padmé could have sworn she saw the protocol droid blush before a chirping R2–D2 rolled up behind them, and caught his attention. "And little Artoo, is that you? My, it has been far too long."

"We should be going," Obi–Wan cut in, peering up at the sky while the cloak he had been lent billowed in the air. "A sandstorm is expected."

"He's right," Anakin agreed, quietly. Indeed, the wind had been growing steadily stronger and more violent since they had departed. "Artoo, go with Threepio and ready the ship. It's going to get ugly out here."

C–3PO was more than happy to oblige. "Well, I certainly will be glad to leave this dreadful planet."

R2–D2's reply was tinged with sadness, but he followed his golden counterpart up the yacht's boarding ramp without protest. Padmé didn't quite understand his reluctance until Obi–Wan turned to his old apprentice, and they finally locked eyes. Anakin's own gaze smoldered with an intensity that she knew all too well, while Obi–Wan's expression remained, for the most part, impassive. Padmé wasn't blind. They had discussed something, knew something, that she didn't…

"May the Force be with you, Anakin."

There was a brief, fleeting flicker of emotion in Obi–Wan before he, too, turned and retreated into the ship. Padmé could only stand and watch in stunned silence as Anakin averted his gaze, and said nothing in return. Realization slowly sinking in, it took her a moment to find her voice.

"You are coming?" she eventually managed to choke out, barely above a whisper. She drew closer when she received no response. "Anakin? You're coming with us, aren't you?"

"For the first time in my life, I don't have a master. This is where I belong," he replied after a short pause, his tone distant and disconnected. "I've already tried to be the hero. I never should have…"

Padmé's pleading stare fell on him as he trailed off. "Ani, please… don't do this. Don't keep punishing yourself. None of us are infallible. We all have our faults, we all make mistakes."

"And some are forgiven, while others aren't," he retorted.

Taken aback by the bitterness of his statement, Padmé faltered before speaking again. "There are some things we can't change. You have to let go of the past. Your mother would not have wished you to waste your life dwelling on–"

"My mother is gone," Anakin snapped. His expression immediately softened when he felt the pain his response had inflicted, and saw the hurt look on her imploring face. Releasing a weary breath, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and turned away. "I'm sorry, Padmé, but my place is here. If I had learned that a long time ago, I could have saved us all a lot of trouble."

"You don't mean that," Padmé shot back. "You can't. Anakin, how can you even say that? Obi–Wan is your friend. And I…"

The words died on her lips, but not before stopping the exiled Jedi where he stood. He didn't move for a long moment. It wasn't until she took a step forward, and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder that he finally turned back to her. She didn't even realize what she was doing; unaware of her own body and its actions as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him into a tight, desperate embrace. Uncertain at first, Anakin's resolve quickly faded and he readily reciprocated. Like music to her ears, Padmé could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart as she leaned forward and rested her head against his chest.

They stayed that way for what felt like hours, but must have only been seconds; simply breathing, touching. With some effort, she withdrew just enough to see his face. Lost in some distant dream, he didn't react at first. Then, raising his flesh hand, he lightly brushed his fingers over her cheek, with all the care of one afraid to damage the most delicate flower, and traced some imaginary line down to her chin. In that instant, she wanted nothing more than to give into temptation; to kiss him, to taste his lips and never look back. Instead, she tasted only the salt of her own tears as they flowed freely, and he shakily withdrew from their embrace completely. Never before had he looked so miserable, so visibly at war with himself. When he spoke, it was as if the voice belonged to someone else.

"Be careful, Padmé."

Her head swimming, Padmé didn't so much as stir until Anakin's landspeeder had vanished in the distance, and the thunderous rumble of engines roared to life behind her. She wiped the last of her tears away before joining the others.

He had made his decision.

CORUSCANT, Imperial City

23:00 hours

The galaxy was changing. There was no more democracy, no more civility. Any hope for peace that had once existed was gone; for words like freedom, justice and equality no longer held any meaning in Palpatine's new regime. The Senate, along with the voice of the people, had been promptly and unlawfully silenced. It had only been seventy–nine days since the fall of the Republic, but already liberty had become a thing of the past… to speak of it meant a prison sentence, or possibly even worse. That was why she was running, now.

Throughout history, during times of turbulence and great desperation, leaders such as herself had always turned to the Jedi for help. Tragically, that was no longer an option. Both the government and the Jedi Order had been casualties of the self–appointed Emperor's rule. It made her sick how easily so many had bought into the propaganda, and believed them traitors. Palpatine's rise to power had cost countless lives, and sadly, it didn't seem that he was prepared to stop there. Numerous reports of armed soldiers roaming the streets and scouring the city for known conspirators had been flooding the holonet for the last several hours. Dozens of once prominent and highly influential political figures, as well as many important world ambassadors, had mysteriously vanished without a trace. Some had been openly arrested, while others had simply disappeared or fled the planet out of fear that they, too, would be targeted. The young woman from Pantora fell into the latter category.

As a respected dignitary, and an avid campaigner against tyranny and oppression, she was sure that her long track record of speaking out against dictatorships would catch up with her. Her name would no doubt be among those placed on the former Chancellor's list of undesirable citizens. For at least a time, he had humored those few still left in the Senate and pretended to heed their advice, but not since the demise of the Republic had any of them wielded any real power. But now, it seemed that he was no longer interested in keeping up appearances. Like so many of her colleagues, she was now a wanted enemy of the state.

"This way, Milady…"

Following in tow as her faithful bodyguard rushed through the deserted hangar bay toward their awaiting transport, Riyo Chuchi kept her eyes and ears open. "Where are the others? They should be here by now."

"I'm not sure, Milady," her trustworthy escort answered, never breaking his stride.

"It's not like them to be late," she stated with a deep frown. "I do hope nothing has happened."

"Perhaps they were merely delayed?" her companion speculated, not quite believing his own words, but doing his best to alleviate her concerns.

His feigned optimism and encouragement, though duly appreciated, did little to ease her troubled mind, and Riyo's frown only grew more somber. "Let us pray you are right."

Once they reached the transport, she hastened up its extended gangplank and quickly made her way inside while her guard remained in the threshold to stand watch. Wasting no time, she entered the cockpit and found a lone pilot prepping the ship for takeoff. Focused on the task at hand, he was oblivious to the senators arrival until she joined him at the controls and made her presence known.

"The others… have you heard from them?" she asked without preamble.

"You received an urgent transmission just a few minutes ago, Milady," the pilot replied. "Shall I play it back?"

Fearing whatever information the recording might possibly contain, Riyo couldn't mask the feeling of dread and foreboding that spread in her chest, and sent her heart racing. "Yes, show me."

There was a flicker of blue light as the slightly distorted image of Senator Bail Organa materialized in front of her. Much to her relief, the esteemed representative of Alderaan appeared to be, at least for the time being, safe and unharmed.

"Senator Chuchi, you must listen to me," he began, dispensing with any pleasantries and getting straight to the point. "By the time you get this message, Imperial authorities will likely have taken me into custody. My efforts to evade Palpatine's agents have failed, and I have yet to receive word from Mon Mothma. I'm afraid you are on your own. You must forget about us, and leave Coruscant before it is too late. The resistance needs you… more than you know."

Riyo couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could he even suggest such a thing? She would not, could not, simply abandon her allies to save her own life. Not when doing so almost certainly meant condemning them to death, or whatever alternative methods of interrogation the Emperor had adopted since destroying the Republic and usurping his throne. Somehow, with everything that was happening, she suspected he was not above torture.

"We leave the future in your capable hands, Riyo," the shimmering image of Senator Organa proceeded. "You have no choice but to carry on without us. Please hurry, we cannot afford to lose anyone else. The Jedi will be expecting you on–"

Quirking a brow, she turned to the pilot when the recording came to an abrupt end. "What happened?"

"The signal was jammed, but it would seem that you're in charge," he answered. "What are your instructions?"

"I…" she trailed off, struggling to find her voice.

"They're coming!"

Both Riyo and the pilot turned with a start when her bodyguard suddenly burst into the cockpit. "The local police! They've found us!"

"What?" was the best response she could muster. "H–how can that be?"

"With all due respect, Milady…" the pilot said, punching a button on the ship's controls and firing up its engines. "At the moment, the only how I'm worried about is how we're going to get out of here alive. It looks like they've just sealed off our only exit."

"Can you get it open?" her bodyguard questioned as he anxiously drew his sidearm. "They'll be here any second."

"I should be able to override the command manually," the pilot answered. "But it's going to take some time, and that's one thing we don't have. We'll never make it."

"You have to try," Riyo spoke up, her initial panic subsiding. "It's our only chance…"

"He's right, we'll never make it," her guard retorted. "We can't allow them to capture you, Milady. Your life is more valuable than either of ours. I'll create a diversion and hold them off while you make your escape."

"Absolutely not. Whatever happens, we will face it together," Riyo countered, immediately dismissing the very notion of leaving another behind to die in her stead. He had to be mad if he thought she would sacrifice him, or anybody else for that matter, because of something as trivial as their difference in status. "I refuse to run while you stand and fight. To me, your survival is no less–"

"I'm sorry, but I must insist," he interjected as he tightened his grip on his blaster and took a step back. "I have a family to think about. If the Rebellion doesn't succeed, there will be no stopping the Empire and my children will never have their freedom. I know that you'll do everything in your power to see that it doesn't come to that. It has been a great honor serving you, Milady…"

"No!" Riyo cried out, lunging forward to catch him before he could retreat into the ship's cargo hold. "Wait! You don't have to do this!"

Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough. With his pistol, he delivered one swift blow to the control panel mounted on the wall directly beside him. Just as he had anticipated, the console erupted in a shower of sparks and the cockpit doors slid shut with a hiss; granting him an opportunity to slip away as they locked and cut off her access.

"Here they come!" the pilot exclaimed, sparing a sideways glance through the ship's viewport.

Following his gaze, Riyo spotted their pursuers an instant later. A squad of stormtroopers, flanked by several of Coruscant's standardized police droids, took aim as they rapidly closed in on the transport. However, they halted their approach and scattered to find cover when her bodyguard emerged and caught them by surprise; gunning down the lead trooper while ducking behind a nearby stack of durasteel freight crates for protection. Soon, the sound of sporadic blaster fire was all she could hear.

"They're going to kill him!" she shouted, helplessly watching on as the ensuing skirmish unfolded before her eyes. "We have to do something!"

"He's made his decision, Milady," the pilot replied. Visibly on edge, he attempted to keep himself calm and collected despite the bleakness of their situation; feverishly working to get the bay exit open. "With your permission, I'll be departing while I still can."

Riyo lifted a horrified hand to her mouth when she witnessed her bodyguard's last moments of defiance, and he went down in a hail of blaster fire. Just then, their transport jolted and, within a matter of seconds, careened out of the hangar and into the hazy Coruscant skyline.

"We made it!" the pilot panted, his shoulders sagging in relief. "I can't believe it!"

Wringing her hands together to keep them for trembling, the rattled Pantoran half staggered to her seat and unceremoniously sank into it. Relief did not come so easy for her.

Dead. Her loyal protector, likely countless others; hunted like fugitives, without the decency and right to trial. And Senator Organa… she couldn't shake the feeling that his uncharacteristic lack of formality, coupled with the fact that he had addressed her by her given name and not by her title, seemed to imply that he was saying goodbye. His outspoken views and public criticism of Imperial law were sure to have attracted special scorn from Palpatine. She shuddered to think what fate would befall him should he find himself at the Emperor's mercy, or what trumped-up charges, if any, would be brought to him. Conspiracy? Espionage? High treason? Or would he just be there one minute and gone the next; never to been seen or heard from again? It was appalling as much as it was heartbreaking.

"Do we have our heading, Milady?"

Riyo didn't answer for a moment. However, when she did, she managed to keep herself, at least somewhat, composed.

"Yes," she said, doing her best to convey far more poise and confidence than she truly felt. "Set your coordinates for the Subterrel Sector."

To Be Continued…

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, etc.