Chapter Twenty Nine: Never Meant to End This Way

[ladyofleithian]

In which Padme finds out what Terminus did.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. 

Author's Notes: Warning for potentially triggering/upsetting content involving child death. I know that one should have figured that, but still...

There was something about entering the Temple corridors that was almost overwhelming for Padmè. It wasn’t just the fact that the younglings were slaughtered, although that was bad enough. It wasn’t just the fact that she could recognize so many Jedi in the carnage: Petro, for example, and Katooni, and so many others, and Jedi Master Cin Drallig, and so many others. It was the fact that it shouldn’t have happened. More than that. It was the fact that if anything, Padmè had never expected, even with how bad the Clone Wars had gotten, that something like this would have happened.

“It shouldn’t have ended that way,” Padmè found herself saying softly, and she knew that that well enough was an understatement. If anything, it shouldn’t have ended like this if only because if anything else, it wasn’t right. The fact that every Jedi had to be slaughtered like this. That she had to come home and realize that all of this was no more than a set up for some twisted game.

Home. Technically, this wasn’t her home home, but it was close enough. She hadn’t expected to get attached to the Temple the way she did, and yet at the same time, she had. This was her home. This was more than home. If anything else, it was as if it was part of her.

And it had been destroyed.

Even kneeling beside the prone bodies of Petro and Katooni, Padmè leaned forward if only to close their eyes. She couldn’t say that she had known them well at first. Petro, at least, had been a source of support after Ahsoka had died. And she had, though she was not technically his Master (technically, another Jedi, Kara Solo, had been his Master), decided to at least take care of him, at least in a sense.

Petro was a good Jedi. That couldn’t be denied. He mostly needed someone to show him the way. Someone to discipline him. Because if anything else, it couldn’t be denied that he could be impulsive. He was a good Jedi, really, but with the passion of a thousand theater actors and the common sense of an overenergetic pitten.

She could only wish that it hadn’t ended like this.

“I should have gotten here sooner,” Padmè said. “I really should have.”

“I know,” Sabe said, softly. “I know.”

She drew Padmè into a hug again, and it was in that moment, at least, that Padmè was grateful for Sabe’s presence. At least it was some degree of a reassurance that everything would be all right. Eventually, Padmè found herself strong enough to draw away.

“Come on,” she said. “We have business with the recall beacon.”

It was easy to really divert the recall beacon. Easy, at least, to divert it from COME HOME to RUN AND HIDE with the use of the Force. It was later, really, that Padmè turned to look at Master Yoda. “Master Yoda,” she said, “Can we at least look at the Temple recordings?”

Master Yoda seemed sad now. Then, “If examine the recordings you do, only pain you will find.”

“Then it is pain that we have earned. Master Yoda...if...” Somehow, Padmè couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence. “If Obi-Wan is somehow involved with the attacks, we need to know.”

Master Yoda’s ears seemed to droop. If anything, Padmè mused, she doubted that she had ever seen him look sadder, or more alone. Then, “Very well.” 

They followed him now into the security recording room. It was later that Padmè found the recordings, and she could only watch as a hooded figure, so much like the hooded man from some of her dreams, from some of the dreams that Obi-Wan had described to her once, marched into the Temple, slaughtering every Jedi in its path. She could only watch even as Petro ordered the other Jedi to run. “I’ll hold him off!”

“But Petro!” Katooni, this time. “You can’t! He’s no match for you!”

“I know,” Petro said, grimly. “But I’m not letting you get hurt.”

“I’m not leaving you, Petro.”

And Padmè could only watch helplessly as Katooni and Petro faced off against the hooded figure. As they tried everything – and at least Petro seemed to be working well against the Clone Troopers. He was good at creative thinking, the young boy. And the training balls seemed to be working against some of the Clone Troopers, at least.

But even Petro couldn’t hold out against the hooded figure forever. Even Katooni couldn’t hold out against the hooded figure forever. And thus they fell. Padmè fought the urge to avert her eyes, because if nothing else, she had to see this. She had to know what the hooded figure had done. What had happened at the Temple that day, because if nothing else, there was no other choice.

Because it already had happened. Averting her eyes would do nothing to change it.

It was later that the hooded figure knelt before Sidious, lowering his hood, and Padmè’s heart sank. No, if anything, she thought, it wasn’t the matter of the fact that it sank or not. If anything else, if nothing else, she felt as if she had been kicked in the chest by a Gamorrean, because kneeling before Sidious, of all people, was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He looked tired, so tired, and so guilty. Padmè supposed that he should. Because what he had done was, essentially, mass murder. He had turned on his own comrades and slaughtered them...but for what? For why?

Padmè knew full well that in the Force there was no why. But of all things, it didn’t apply here. Because Obi-Wan Kenobi had committed murder. But why?

“The traitors have been destroyed, Lord Sidious.” So calm, almost as if he was just ordering dinner instead of discussing the matter of mass murder and whatnot. “Lord Vader and Asajj Ventress have already collected the holocrons – they’re back in the hands of the Sith.”

“Good, good,” Sidious purred, almost like a contented rancor, and the kicked in the chest feeling returned again because Padmè knew that voice. The Chancellor’s voice. The Chancellor, a Sith Lord?

After everything else, she supposed that this was the least surprising of the day, and yet at the same time, it didn’t hurt any less. If anything, it hurt more. Because the man that she had looked up to all her life was the Sith Lord that had been controlling the Republic. Count Dooku had been right. And she had killed him.

The Jedi had killed him. So effortlessly playing into the hands of what Sidious wanted, and somehow, they hadn’t even realized it. The Dark Side had clouded everything, clouded their judgment...it was the only way that Sidious could have gotten away with so many things under their very noses.

“Padmè.” Sabe’s voice was soft. “It’s all right. Trust me.” And yet at the same time, there was something in Sabe’s voice that told Padmè that she was already struggling not to cry as well.

Padmè bit her lip, put a hand on Sabe’s shoulder. It was the best she could do.

“So,” Sidious said, “Where are they?”

“They’re on their way to your location right now,” Obi-Wan said. “They have the artifacts.”

“Excellent. Now go, Lord Terminus,” Sidious said, “And bring peace to the Empire.”

“I will, my Master,” Terminus said. And Padmè could tell that there was no joy in his voice at what he had done. Simply the calmness of, pure and simply, doing his duty.

“Padmè,” Sabe said softly, “You can shut it off now. Trust me.”

Padmè did. She slumped against the wall now, rubbing her temples, suddenly feeling very frustrated, very angry, and very, so very, tired. Sidious was the Chancellor, the Chancellor was Sidious. Her mentor was a Sith Lord. And the Republic and the Jedi Order had fallen. It was almost too much to take in.

Master Yoda, meanwhile, was completely composed. And yet Padmè could still sense the sadness in his voice even as he said, “Destroy the Sith we must.” Because she had a feeling that the sight of his students slaughtered and the sight of Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of his most beloved students, as a Sith Lord, was almost too much for him to take in.

“I know,” Padmè said. “Just...” She bit her lip. “Let me go after Obi-Wan,” she said. “I can help him.”

“Twisted by the Dark Side he is. Unable to help him, you may be.”

“You don’t know that, Master Yoda,” Padmè said. “I mean...you could have saved Dooku after all these years, but you didn’t. I know that I’m just as guilty of it, but you could have helped him. You...it’s as if you’re so focused on the fact that others have been corrupted that you can’t see the very concept of redemption.”

“Padmè – ’’ Bail began, but Padmè continued.

“If it’s possible to save Obi-Wan,” Padmè said, “Then that’s what I’m going to do. Because that’s what a Jedi does. And if I don’t do that...what Jedi will I be?”

Silence.

Yoda seemed thoughtful now. Padmè felt almost guilty after what she had said to him, and yet it needed to be said. After all, someone had to call out Master Yoda. One problem that Master Yoda had, when one really thought about it, was the fact that he was surrounded by people who didn’t call him out on things. Even when he needed to be called out.

She supposed that the best time to call him out was now. Even if it was possibly too late.

“Do what you believe is right,” Yoda said, “You must. But uncertain the future is. Doomed to failure you may be, or blessed to succeed. Simply be careful, Padmè. Too many Jedi have we lost today.”

“I know,” Padmè said. “I won’t fail you. I’m not afraid.”

“Afraid of your failure I am not. Merely afraid for your safety.”

“I’m going with you.” Sabe, this time. “Obi-Wan’s the responsibility of both of us. It’s only right.” She smiled if only weakly. “And I am armed. No need to worry.”

“May the Force be with you both.” Master Yoda, this time.

“And with you, Master Yoda,” Padmè said, softly.

Even heading towards the nearest hangar bay, Padmè turned to look towards Bail Organa. “If there’s any trouble,” she said, “We’ll contact you. I promise.”

“You’d better,” Bail said, and the slightly teasing note in his voice reassured Padmè if only slightly. Then he grew more serious. “Good luck, you two.”

“You as well, Senator,” Padmè said. “May the Force be with you.”

Even as Bail walked away, Padmè turned to look at Sabe. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” She said it if only for reassurance purposes.

“He will be,” Sabe said. “I mean...we’re going to be all right. All four of us. You’ll see.”

“I don’t know.” Padmè sighed. “Every time I’ve heard or used the phrase ‘we’re going to be all right’, something bad has usually happened. I don’t know if I’m quite certain anymore.”

“But we will be,” Sabe said. “After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Padmè supposed she was right. And yet at the same time, something prickled at her that said that what was about to happen would be worse than she could have ever imagined.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just hope that the Force is in our favor.”