Coruscant, Coruscant System
Corusca System
“Bode, Barriss, I want you two to keep an eye on PRIESTESS. If Palpatine communicates with Dooku, I want to hear it.”
“Copy that leader.”
“Understood, Master.”
Plotting a sche to depose the most powerful man in the galaxy was no easy feat, but it was a simple feat. One could make the sche extraneously complex and opaque, Jedi Master Adi Gallia could attest to, but in this instance she decided the outco would not be worth the imnse effort imputed. Ultimately, the influence of Supre Chancellor Palpatine now pervaded every facet of Republic governance in so way or form. There would be no concealing the eting of influential senators, representatives, generals and admirals and other political figures who were willing to stake their bets against Palpatine.
Especially so if the Supre Chancellor was a Dark Lord of the Sith.
In which case, Adi Gallia determined, she might as well host the council directly under his nose.
The Jedi Master patiently waited as the nurous eminent bodies of the Republic political strata trickled into the room; one of the too many committee chambers housed in the Senate Building. Master Gallia ntally took note of the personages in attendance, and what or who they represented, arranging them in order of importance and necessity. Many of them, Adi Gallia and her network had to contact–clandestinely or otherwise–and convince them to attend the dialogue.
So took more effort than others. After all, simply showing their faces here was tantamount to putting themselves in the crosshairs of COMPOR and other Loyalist lobbies. Especially should the particulars leak; which Adi Gallia had already accounted for. No doubt so of them were puppets of the Chancellor, standing by the relay every word spoken back to their dark master.
So took less effort, in other ways. The Palpatine Administration’s popularity had taken a massive hit in the recent months, following nurous Separatist incursions in the Core Worlds. Those who didn’t take much convincing included the main ringleaders of the anti-Palpatine faction still active in the Senate; Mon Mothma of Chandrila, Bail Organa of Alderaan, Bana Breemu of Humbarine. Their attendance greatly bolstered the legitimacy of the dialogue in the eyes of the Senate, the fact that a Jedi Master of the High Council was hosting notwithstanding.
Beyond the Core were the star sectors of the Rims, motivated by an equally vast panoply of reasons. The noble houses of the Senex-Juvex Sectors, chafing against the growing centralisation of power in the Core. Among them were representatives from satellite sectors, led by Senator Tanner Cadaman of the D’Aelgoth Sector. Then there were those motivated by more pacifist ideologies, such as the Ithorians of Ithor, led by Senator Tendau Bendon. Or those who simply stood against the corruption of the Palpatine Administration, such as Senator Lexi Dio of Uyter.
She will be important, Master Gallia made a note. Uyter was one of the most productive agri-worlds in the Mid Rim, especially in recent years as they replaced the thousands of Rimward agri-worlds that seceded to the Confederacy, and their support would be worth their daily export’s weight in beskar.
Then there were the wildcards, who even a Jedi Master like her couldn’t fully read, and yet their support could an life or death of this budding rebellion. Queen Neeyutnee of Naboo, attending in holographic form. She was a small woman, dressed in the traditional Naboo style, with regal headdress, facepaint, and all. And yet, her royal raints were simple and modest, at least compared to the downright ostentatious plumages sported by her predecessors. A simple red dress, covered by a sleek black topcoat of Cyrene silk.
It was a striking ssage, and one representative of her character. By all accounts, Queen Neeyutnee was not Padmé Amidala, and the sa argunts that may have worked on the forr queen of Naboo would not work on the current one. The current Queen was a warti monarch, and by all ans a rationalist. She did not so much act out of principle as Padmé Amidala may have, as she might weigh the potential gains and losses for the howorld and the star systems she held overlordship over.
Next, there was Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, who was a consummate pacifist, and leader of the Council of Neutral Systems in fact. Adi Gallia may have already written off her potential support, if not for her willingness to attend in the dialogue. Despite the pacifistic ideologies of the New Mandalorians that she ruled over, the Mandalore Sector remained a sleeping powerhouse in the Outer Rim. Well over a thousand neutral, strategic systems rested in Mandalorian Space, filled with a traditionally warlike people whom not all have converted to the ideology of the New Mandalorians.
Lastly, there was the representative of the Tapani Federation, the Mrlssi Senator Canny Bertar, who needed little introduction. The League of Tapani Freeworlds constituted over a quarter of the Galactic Interior and included an entire Sector Army.
The avian Senator started, her feathers ruffling with impatience, “For the sake of unambiguity, I attend here in the na of the Tapani Federation and her Freeworlds. With the power vested in my body, I listen and speak on behalf of the Octavian Grant and the Tapani Noble Houses.”
The Mrlssi’s eyes shifted, before continuing, “It appears to that we convene to discuss the nurous trespasses of the Palpatine Administration, and the continuous overreaches of the Executive Body. Am I correct?”
“You are, honoured Senator,” Master Adi Gallia replied kindly, gesturing for the doors to be closed. Jedi Master Plo Koon just about materialised from the shadows to do so, catching the attention of the gathered body.
Not just one Councilmber, but two? A wave of recognition washed through the seated audience. A similar wave washed through Adi Gallia, but one borne from Senator Canny Bertar’s words. How much can be believed; had the Tapani Federation truly vest their interest in their Senator? Would Octavian Grant truly act depending on her conclusion of the dialogue? Adi Gallia allowed the Force to fill in the missing details in her ntal image of the situation.
“I am glad we can all agree that sothing must be done against the overreaches of the current governnt,” Queen Neeyutnee’s voice was demure as befitting of her stature, and yet compelling enough to bid n listen, “And yet I must question; how much can be trusted of the Core Worlds? The Supre Chancellor is a canny man, and his staff are equally capable. Even in the Choml Sector, I hear news of his tightening grip in the wake of that scuffle at Rendili.”
“You are well-inford, Your Highness,” Master Plo Koon said gravelly, “Indeed, the Chancellor’s overreaction may prove to earn him allies in the Core nobility, but it is also a sign of desperation. He realises what we all do; support for his governnt is waning. His most recent actions are those of a man trying to salvage a terrible situation as much as possible.”
Many nodded in agreent with the Jedi Master’s words, Bail Organa and Mon Mothma in number among them. Following the Battle of Rendili, Honor Salima had been declared ‘Admiral of the Core’ for her victory, and near every one-in-three servicen in the Ho Fleet had been awarded the Republic dal of Valour–most of them posthumously. No doubt powerful Jedi detractors in the current military administration would have loved to derogate the Open Circle Fleet’s actions during the battle, if not for the fact that doing so would contradict the current narrative being built around the Ho Fleet…
And that for so reason, Admiral Honor Salima had praised the Open Circle Fleet and Task Force Hyperion for their conduct and tily assistance during the battle. Well, the Tholothian Master might say ‘for so reason’, but she had a strong suspicion she knew why. Regardless of the reason, few could oppose the awards lavished upon the Ho Fleet.
They had destroyed the Perlemian Coalition! The Perlemian Coalition that had obstructed the Republic ti and ti again since the Battle of Centares. And not just that, but also finally put the nail in the coffins of two most infamous Warlords of the Perlemian, Rain Bonteri and Calli Trilm. If it wasn’t for the fact that Plo Koon and Obi-Wan were Jedii of the Temple, and thus duty-bound to decline any awards, they too would have had dals and ribbons heaped high on their humble robes. The clone forces under their command, however, earned everything from dals of Valour to Bronze Crescents.
By all accounts, the Battle of Rendili had been a massive victory for the Galactic Republic. The Perlemian Coalition’s leaders were dead, its fleets rendered combat ineffective. The Bulwark Fleet was near annihilated in its entirety, with no more than a dozen ships still operational. The only dark lining in the battle was the escape of the Rendili Ho Defence Fleet, which emboldened the Provisional Independent Governnt to hold out against any Republic repercussions. The damage was limited, however, as the Ho Fleet’s ongoing tour of the nearby sectors stamped down on any budding restlessness in the region.
With the fleets recalled from the front now returning to their garrison posts in the Core, the unrest stemming from the prolonged lack of military presence finally began to ease. Unfortunately, the Grand Army of the Republic found itself back at square one when it ca to ending the war—but the national crisis had passed, and that brought a collective sigh of relief from just about every faction within the Republic.
Except one–
“Would the death of the Battle Hydra affect our agreents with the Separatists?” Adi Gallia had asked Plo Koon upon his return.
The Kel Dor Jedi had paused upon her worries, “I find it unlikely that he is dead, despite what the HoloNet may claim. Unfortunately, the nature of his being makes it difficult to ascertain anything. Nevertheless, we do not need him. Nor does the Pantoran. He is the right arm of the Separatist military, indeed, but a body does not stop moving just because a limb had been amputated. If his words prove true, then the Raxus and Serenno Governnts are diverging at an unmitigated rate. A Separatist civil war is all but inevitable, at which point continued war with the Republic would be undesirable.”
“You believe his death changes nothing?”
“Nothing at all,” Plo Koon confird, “The Pantoran will play her part, and we will play ours. Then, we will simply forge a lasting ceasefire between our two factions, so that we may focus on our respective enemies. If we manage to seize the Republic without bloodshed, then the matter will be even simpler; we cent an alliance with the Raxus Governnt and turn on our true enemy–Count Dooku.”
His argunt was sound, Adi Gallia had to admit, but even then it left a bad taste in her mouth to shake hands with a man and stand him in the back right after. Even as a spymaster, she still had so Jedi sensibilities–or rather, the sensibilities of any moral person. Master Plo Koon, however, seed perfectly capable of compartntalising which persona to use for the situation. The ‘Jedi Master’ or the ‘General of the Republic.’ Not that Adi Gallia couldn’t empathise. It was the only way to survive a war that stood for everything the Jedi Order was against.
“I concur with the Master Jedi, Your Highness,” Senator Bail Organa outstretched a hand, “Palpatine has too many parties to balance–not all of whom wish to be balanced. After spending his entire term curbing the autonomy and influence of the noble clans, only to double back and honour them as he loses favour with the military and citizenry? It is a precarious balancing act, and after a series of blunders leading into this national crisis; it has left most factions feeling lukewarm to him at best. The support base he boasts now is nowhere as large as the one he started the war with.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
A flutter of taphorical butterflies took to the air, rampant murmurs like the flapping of their wings. Until now, the Supre Chancellor’s position seed bedrock solid, unassailable as a political fortress. Cracks were forming, and for the first ti soone has openly pointed it out, that person being Senator Bail Organa no less.
Duchess Satine’s piercing tone cut through the commotion, “I would like to hear from the host herself; Master Jedi, what is the purpose you intend to unify this assemblage with? We may all share your sympathies regarding the Chancellor, but not all of us are unified in ideology or motivation. Rationalists, pacifists, self-interest parties. What is your compromise?”
Adi Gallia found herself nodding along with the Duchess' statent. The three most influential bodies in the audience–Mon Mothma, Bail Organa, and Bana Breemu–together leaned forward in anticipation. The three of them were a microcosm of her statent, in fact. Mon Mothma of Chandrila was a pacifist, seeking peace between the Republic and Confederacy. Bail Organa of Alderaan was a rationalist, one who supported Palpatine early on in the war, before distancing himself as the Chancellor’s true intentions revealed themselves. Bana Breemu of Humbarine represented the self-interest of her howorld, whose comrcial and industrial value had waned as Palpatine prioritised rival worlds like Kuat.
In fact, every character in the dialogue could be more or less organised into one of those three camps. And now Master Adi Gallia had to unify them under one banner. She shared a glance with her Jedi partner. It’s now or never.
“At this point in the war,” her mouth was as dry as Tatooine, though she did not show it, “We see no other recourse but to force the Supre Chancellor to stand down and surrender his post, and end this terrible conflict by making a conditional peace with the Confederacy of Independent Systems.”
Duchess Satine’s eyes widened. Perhaps she had expected them to be in favour of continuing the war–and she was not incorrect, to an extent. Adi Gallia and Plo Koon were only in favour of continuing the war to the extent of Dooku’s downfall. In fact, her words had prompted a swell of support from the gathered assemblage–the war had taken its toll, and even the most hawkish character among their number had to admit it may be high ti to cut their losses–bar one.
“That is easier said than done,” Senator Lexi Dio cut in severely, “Palpatine’s corruption runs deep. Can we truly say no senator in this room hadn’t made deals with his office that we shouldn’t have? The Executive Office is his, as is the Supre Court and its circuits. Half of the Galactic Senate is in his pocket. I doubt we will even find enough supporters for a vote to impeach him. The words you speak are large, Master Jedi, but where is the impetus behind them?”
…And that was where the kicker was.
“While we would obviously prefer a bloodless solution,” Adi Gallia saw no reason to mince her words, “We have considered the very real possibility that the Chancellor may refuse to surrender his powers peacefully. Without the courts or the legislation, there would be no legal way to remove him from office.”
“So you would… consider an illegal way?” Senator Bana Breemu raised an eyebrow, “How so?”
“War.” Master Plo Koon’s heavy tone felt like a sack of boulders falling over their heads, emphasised by his breathing apparatus.
War.
“You would have the Republic rip itself apart?” Mon Mothma was aghast, as were many.
“Tell your honest feelings, Senator,” Master Plo pressed hard, “Should the war end in a Republic victory, with Separatist worlds taken and subdued–do you believe the Supre Chancellor would surrender his ergency powers?”
“He must!” the Senator from Chandrila protested, though all could tell she was convincing her own self more than them, “He made an oath!”
“And if he does not uphold that oath, Mon?” Bail Organa asked gently, “Would any of us have the power or influence to force him? It is as the Master Jedi said; we wouldn’t have the courts or even the legislative power to do so. Palpatine has the Senate divided, as is his best interest to do so. Our caucus would be sizable, but it wouldn’t be enough.”
“At which point,” Adi Gallia hamred down, “Does the Republic cease being a republic, and begin being a dictatorship? From my perspective, it already is. But if you want it to be official, simply wait for the war to end, and I guarantee to all of you, the Supre Chancellor would declare himself on for life. And with the courts, legislation, and even the dia–it would be completely legal.”
There was a shaky breath. Adi Gallia reached into the Force, felt the atmosphere, and felt it favourable enough to continue. The perks of being a Jedi are paying off in spades, she thought humorlessly, yet I’m using them to font a civil war.
“Civil war is a possibility, ladies and gentlen,” she insisted, “Whether it becos a necessity depends on the Supre Chancellor. But in the case it does occur, we must prepare for it. This civil war–it will not be about whether to tear down one man, but about the very survival of the Republic itself. It is about how much democracy is worth to all of you, and whether it is worth shedding blood over.”
It was a difficult decision, matched by similarly difficult expressions. At this point, Adi Gallia might have said sothing along the lines of ‘sleep on it’, except she needed their answers now. Adi needed to know in no uncertain terms who she could consider her allies and enemies, even more so if Palpatine was listening, as he too would decide who were his enemies from this dialogue. Letting them go to ‘think on it’ would only invite unsurety and further complications.
If they declared their support to the rebellion in this quasi-open setting, then they could be trusted. After all, it ant they had thrown in the bet. There was no taking it back. Similarly, if they didn’t… vice versa. But for that to happen, sobody needed to break the mounting tension and take the first step.
Senator Canny Bertar’s beak clicked, “I have decided.”
Half a hundred heads snapped to who may be the most powerful person in the room, representing a quarter of the Core Worlds.
“Should this hypothetical civil war occur,” the Mrlssi said slowly, “The Tapani Federation and her Freeworlds would be willing to offer military access through Tapani space. However, we will not pledge our fleets to the fight. As we speak, we war with the Tombmaker on the Rimma Trade Route. We can afford nothing to fight a second front.”
“But you will not attack our fleets in Tapani territories?” Plo Koon questioned.
“We will not,” Canny Bertar confird, “We will, however, bar any Executive military fleets from using our spacelanes. That is the most we can pledge.”
The most you can pledge? Adi Gallia had not the mind for warfare, and thus prodded her partner for his decision. Master Plo Koon urged her to accept. This is nearly everything we can hope for, she suddenly found herself thinking, a quarter of the Galactic Interior off-limits to anything Palpatine can muster.
As for the political implications, Adi Gallia realised the Tapani were simply taking up the age-old practice of fence-sitting until a victor beca apparent. By offering military access to one side and not the other, however, they were clearly declaring to the galaxy which side they favoured. And that was enough for Adi Gallia. Because that was tantamount to support. And when a quarter of the Core Worlds supported a cause, the rest tended to follow suit.
“The Council of Neutral Systems supports this cause,” Duchess Satine was next, “Though I personally oppose conflict, I will allow the signatories of the Neutral Systems to pledge their fleets at their own discretion. Similarly to the Tapani, the Mandalore Sector would give Jedi fleets full access as well.”
Before anybody else could pledge their support however, Queen Neeyutnee of Naboo hampered the growing montum with a sharp– “Let us not be hasty. We speak of deposing the current Supre Chancellor, but what of the post-war galaxy? Peace with the Separatists? Would they even be open to a conditional peace? After everything they’ve done?”
“They would,” that, Adi Gallia spoke with so much confidence the Queen of Naboo was taken aback.
“Truly?” Mon Mothma stood up, “How can you be certain?”
“My spies tell a schism is brewing in the Separatist State,” she inford the assemblage, “Count Dooku and General Tann are currently locked in a power struggle over control of the Confederacy. Dooku is an idealist, as you may all know, and peace with him would prove difficult. General Tann, however, is a rationalist, and only seeks a favourable outco for the Separatist State, which would be–”
“It’s existence as an independent polity,” Bana Breemu finished, “In which case the cards would be in our hands.”
“My thoughts exactly, Senator.”
Queen Neeyutnee tapped her fingers against her throne, before finally rising to her full–short–height. Her youthful age was apparent for all to see, then, and it was admirable how such a young lady had held herself against politicians twice and thrice her age.
“In this case,” the Queen smoothened her robes, “I pledge Naboo and the Choml Sector’s full support to this cause, along with all of her fleets and armies. The institution of democracy in the Republic is a sacred thing, one held for twenty-five millennia. I would not let it end because of a single power-hungry brute. I am ashad to call him my countryman, and thus in my capacity as Queen of the Naboo, I hereby disavow Sheev Palpatine, and banish him from Naboo.”
The dam had been broken, and soon the tide of support and withdrawals started making themselves known. Uyter, Ithor, Taris and Feenix all pledged their support, as did Ikotchon, Allanteen-VI, and Hosnian Pri. At the sa ti, the delegates from Alsakan, Fedalle, and Comnor quietly left the premises, unwilling to openly air their disagreents in a chamber so heavily favoured to one side.
“Humbarine would be willing to pledge her fleets,” Senator Bana Breemu spoke over the commotion, “If not for that the Chancellor’s military reforms had seen them subsud into the Sector Armadas. Our defence is left entirely at the rcy of the GAR.”
“I agree with the Senator from Humbarine,” Bail Organa clenched his fists gravely, “Many of the Core Worlds are no longer garrisoned by their own fleets, and instead those attached to us by the Republic Navy. I fear this is as Palpatine had planned for; we simply have no ships to offer.”
“I beg to differ,” Master Plo told them, “You have ships–they are simply spread across the Sector Armadas.”
Adi Gallia hastily followed up, “As the face of the Jedi Temple, and on behalf of the Order, I will publicly demand that the Supre Chancellor surrender his ergency powers and vacate his office for a new election to take place. I will air all of his corruption and his treason, including the communiques he had with the Separatists in order to further his own profit from the war.”
She tactically paused, studying the various expressions at the outrageous claim that the Supre Chancellor of the Republic of all people was communicating with the Separatists for his own gain, “It is following this declaration that I hope all of you will make your own announcents. Declare to the Republic and to the galaxy. You are all popular leaders of your howorlds and sectors; it is why you are present in this dialogue. Decry the dictator; urge your countryn to protect the Republic and its values.”
“Chancellor Palpatine would see uprisings across the Republic,” Plo Koon finished, “Mutinies in every Sector Army would arise. Octavian Grant would declare his neutrality, setting a precedent. The Second Sector Army is commanded by Jedi, and will support the cause. The Governor-Generals would realise which way the winds are blowing, and either sit out of the conflict or pick a side. Thousands more worlds not represented here today will flock to the cause.”
“It is my most solemn hope,” Adi Gallia said truthfully, as she t every attending mber in the eyes, “That the Supre Chancellor will realise that should he decide to fight this war; there will be nothing left of the Republic for him to rule over. And he would stand down.”
“...Do you think,” Queen Neeyutnee asked softly, though in the silence every syllabus struck like a drumbeat, “That Sheev Palpatine is that kind of man?”
No. I think he’ll get news of this eting and panic, and communicate with Dooku to sohow turn the situation to his advantage. There will be the nail in his coffin. Rampant corruption is one thing; definite proof of the most grievous of high treason is an entirely different beast. There would not be a soul in the Republic who would support him then.
“I pray that he is.”
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