=== Dooku ===
"This is outrageous!" Mace Windu thundered, rising sharply from his seat.
He wasn't alone. Several other Masters stood with him, voices raised in disbelief and outrage echoing through the Council chamber.
"Who do these Astartes think they are?" Ki-Adi-Mundi said, arms folded tightly across his chest. "They may be powerful, yes—but that does not entitle them to dictate galactic affairs. And these 'reinforcements' they speak of? I'll believe it when I see them."
Only Master Yoda remained still. Seated in his chair, he observed the room in silence, his ancient eyes fixed on Dooku and Qui-Gon. While the others argued, he merely listened. Slowly, he closed his eyes and allowed the clamor of the room to wash over him like a distant tide.
Then, after a long moment, his eyes opened.
"Silence," he said quietly.
The word was soft—but it struck like a gavel. The room fell still. One by one, the Jedi Masters returned to their seats, all eyes on Yoda.
"Troubling, this news is," he said slowly. "The Astartes... understand their true purpose, we do not."
He leaned forward slightly, his small hands resting in his lap. "Sit, we will. And discuss the future, we must."
The hours that followed were filled with debate. Possibilities were weighed, arguments made, suspicions aired. Some Masters called for caution, others for resistance. Yet none could deny the unsettling feeling that had crept into the Force since the Astartes' had first arrived so many years ago.
When the meeting finally recessed, the chamber emptied in a quiet shuffle of robes and whispered conversations. Only two remained—Dooku and Yoda.
The elder Jedi sat motionless, eyes closed again in meditation. Dooku stood with his back to him, hands clasped behind him, gazing out at the cityscape of Coruscant, the towers gleaming beneath the setting sun.
"Many paths lie ahead," Yoda said, breaking the silence. "Which one to follow... clear, it is not."
Dooku didn't respond at first. He took a slow breath and closed his eyes.
"My thoughts are... troubled," he said at last. "By what I've seen. What I've felt."
He turned slightly, his voice low and thoughtful.
"I believe we should consider their offer. If they speak truly—and they do have reinforcements coming—we may not survive the storm that follows."
Yoda opened one eye, watching his former apprentice carefully.
"Master Windu... disagrees," he said. "Thinks, for the Order we must stand. Must fight."
Dooku nodded. "As I said in the gardens, I do not think he is wrong."
He turned fully now, facing Yoda. There was no defiance in his expression—only concern.
"But to fight against the Astartes?" he continued. "It is foolish at best... and suicidal at worst."
Yoda was silent once more, lost in the currents of the Force.
Outside, Coruscant's sun dipped below the horizon—its light fading, as though heralding the approach of something dark and unknowable.
=== Mace Windu ===
In the stillness of the Jedi Temple gardens, Master Windu sat cross-legged beneath a flowering tree, its blossoms swaying gently in the Coruscant breeze. The calm around him was at odds with the storm inside his mind—a storm that had never fully passed.
Ever since that day in the Temple—so many years ago now—everything had felt… different.
He looked down at his right hand. The polished metal of the prosthetic caught the light, a cold, permanent reminder of what had happened. What had been done.
Windu closed his eyes, but the memory rose unbidden: the hulking form of the Black Templar standing over him, red optics glowing with something that felt like disdain—or perhaps judgment. That moment, etched into his soul, still haunted his sleep.
His jaw clenched, and with it, his fist. The servos in his metal hand whined softly in protest as he tightened it.
Dark thoughts began to stir. Anger. Hatred. The seductive pull of power through emotion. But he breathed deep, grounding himself in the Force. Slowly, purposefully, he refocused on his meditation.
'Would it be better to join the Astartes?' he wondered. 'If what they claimed is true—about the war, about what's coming…'
The thought tasted bitter. He couldn't deny the scale of the threat they warned of. But he also couldn't forget who they were—what they were. The Black Templar in particular. Cold. Merciless. Alien… Evil.
He opened his eyes and stared at the tree before him—its gnarled roots pushing through the earth, its branches reaching for the sky. A symbol of balance, of growth, of resilience.
He would never bend to the will of beings like the Templar. Whatever came, whatever storm loomed on the horizon, he would not yield. Not to monsters cloaked in armor and blood.
If and when the time came where lines were drawn, he knew where he would stand.
Even if he stood alone.
=== Nira ===
"This is the last time I listen to you. Like, ever," Nira muttered, arms resting on her knees, back pressed against the cold stone wall of the holding cell.
The journey to Geonosis had been doomed from the start. What was supposed to be a reconnaissance op of curiosity had spiraled into chaos. Now, the three of them were locked in a row of cells deep within a place they didn't know. The dim lighting flickered overhead, casting fractured shadows across the ancient stone walls.
They had barely escaped the droid manufacturing plant with their lives. Anakin had lost his lightsaber in the skirmish—again—and they'd been cornered by an overwhelming force of Geonosian warriors shortly after. Resistance was futile, even for two Jedi.
Captured, disarmed, and caged.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, slow and deliberate. Then, a set of glowing green optics emerged from the shadows beyond the bars. They hovered for a moment before locking onto them.
The figure stopped. A wheezing voice, like wind scraping metal, filled the corridor.
"Interesting," the voice croaked. "I sense great power within you," He said, looking straight at Anakin. "The Force runs strong through your veins."
Then it turned its gaze to Nira. The optics glowed brighter for a brief moment.
"And you… you are touched by both Universes. How peculiar."
Its eyes moved again—this time to Padmé. It studied her for only a second before letting out a broken chuckle.
"And you... are utterly useless in every way."
Padmé glared at the thing in the shadows, unflinching.
"But don't worry. I'll find a purpose for you. Even if it's only as a spectacle."
The laugh that followed was brittle and dry, like a dying engine failing to turn over. It echoed long after he turned away and began speaking to someone unseen.
"Prepare them," the voice rasped. "Give the filthy bugs what they want."
A mechanical hiss sounded as the cell doors creaked open. The hallway filled with the chittering of Geonosians—dozens of them—emerging from the shadows and swarming into the cell block.
Two of them seized Padmé, pressing a jagged blade to her throat. The Jedi froze.
Anakin's eyes flared, the Force coiling around him, but Padmé's sharp intake of breath stopped him cold as the blade was pressed into her throat. He exhaled slowly, fists clenched.
Reluctantly, Anakin and Nira allowed the restraints to be clasped around their wrists.
They were hauled to their feet and escorted down the hallway, flanked by guards. Padmé walked ahead, her posture defiant despite the blade still pressed near her neck.
Outside, a chariot waited—an ancient contraption pulled by a monstrous six-legged beast. It reeked of musk and dust, its scales twitching under the harness.
They were thrust into the seats without ceremony. Anakin and Padmé were placed in the front, side by side, their backs to Nira. Nira herself was shoved into the back seat, directly facing them.
Anakin sat rigid, his wrists bound, eyes fixed on the jagged bars ahead, leading to the arena. Beside him, Padmé sat in silence, the blade no longer at her throat but the threat still lingering in the air. Behind them, Nira sat watching—quiet, bruised, and trying to mentally piece together a plan, any plan, to turn this around.
But then Anakin spoke, trying to keep Calm.
"Don't be afraid."
"I'm not afraid to die," she said.
Anakin turned to her, surprised.
"I've been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life," she continued, her eyes on the horizon, not him.
He blinked. "Padmé, what—what are you talking about?"
She finally turned to face him, and in that moment, something fragile and true passed between them.
"I love you," she said.
Behind them, Nira's brows lifted slightly. Her gaze shifted from Padmé to Anakin, but she said nothing—just watched, the moment unfolding like a secret dropped in the open.
"You love me?" Anakin said, voice low with disbelief. "I thought we had decided not to fall in love. That we would be forced to live a lie. And that it would destroy our lives."
"I think our lives are about to be destroyed anyway," Padmé whispered.
Anakin stared at her, stunned into silence.
"I truly… deeply love you," she said. "And before we die, I want you to know."
Padmé leaned in, and drew Anakin into a kiss that lasted a few moments as they entered the arena.
Nira just watched, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.
She didn't interrupt. She just closed her eyes for a brief second, unsure of what to do.
The gates to the arena groaned open with the sound of grinding stone and rusted chains. Harsh sunlight flooded in, momentarily blinding them as the chariot emerged into a massive coliseum of rock and sand. Thousands of Geonosians lined the towering terraces, their shrill screeches creating a deafening chorus of anticipation.
Nira's eyes narrowed against the light. She could see the four tall pillars already waiting in the center of the arena, each one lined with ancient restraints, stained and worn from a hundred past executions.
This was no trial. This was theater.
The chariot came to a halt. Without ceremony, they were yanked from their seats. Geonosian guards swarmed them like ants, dragging each of them toward the stone columns.
Nira was pulled toward the right most pillar—her boots scraping against the sand as she was dragged. Her eyes scanned the arena, her mind racing. She wasn't afraid of dying—but she wasn't about to make it easy for them either.
The restraints clamped shut around her wrists, binding her to the pillar. She winced, not at the pain, but at the helplessness of it. She hated this feeling.
Anakin was shackled to the pillar to her right, his eyes burning with frustration as he tested the strength of his bindings.
Padmé was to his right, locked in place with a final metallic clunk. Despite everything, she held her head high, defiant even now.
Nira glanced over to Anakin. "So, uh," she said, dryly, "you two decided to start confessing life-altering secrets on the way to an execution?"
Padmé gave her a look—but there was a flicker of amusement beneath the fear.
"I'm just saying," Nira continued, "could've waited until after we survived the death pit."
Before either of them could reply, a fanfare of drums and horns blared from above. At the highest box of the arena, the Geonosian Archduke Poggle the Lesser stood with a flourish, flanked by his ministers.
To her shock, the figure standing next to the Geonosian was a tall Astartes, the one with the green optics from earlier.
They gestured to the crowd, and a fresh wave of shrieking cheers erupted.
The gates at the far end of the arena began to rumble open.
A massive creature stomped into view first—horned, thick-skinned, and drooling. Then another followed, insectoid with slicing limbs. And finally, a cat-like beast, sinewy and graceful, its fangs bared in anticipation.
The execution was beginning.
Anakin tensed, already testing his chains again. Padmé kept her eyes on the creatures, steady and calm, though her fingers clenched above her head.
Nira tilted her head slightly, eyeing the beasts with something that wasn't quite fear. She turned her head toward Anakin and Padmé. "Alright. Any bright Jedi ideas? Because I'm all out of sarcastic remarks!"
Anakin grinned faintly. "Just one."
With a sudden surge of strength, he leapt upward, grabbing hold of the chain above his cuffs. He began to swing, climbing the pillar.
Nira smirked. "Well… that's one way to start."
Just then the creatures charged.
===
If you enjoyed this chapter, maybe consider leaving me with a couple of your power stones? I promise I'll take good care of them:)