Falling Pieces

by Flamethrower

Falling Pieces

Author: Flamethrower (flamethrower@deadcatharvest.net)

Archive: MA and my site, the Flamethrower's Archive (Still broken!)

Category: Q/O, AU, slashity Slash

Warnings: None

Summary: Fifth part of the tale that started with 'In a Lonely Place'.

Series: Yep.
In a Lonely Place
Defiance
Shades of Grey
Geonosis

Ten years ago:

Join me. I will give you what you seek.

No. You will never be what I want!

But I offer it freely, child. It is yours to take, if you want it.

All you have to offer me is death.

And yet you live. I did not tear you down to destroy you. I did it to free you.

This is not freedom! This is hell!

If it is a hell, my dear Apprentice, then it is a hell of your own choosing. What you do with your freedom...that is up to you.

When Qui-Gon Jinn was a child, listening to Master Yoda's stories of the war that had torn the galaxy asunder one hundred years before even the ancient Master was born, he had imagined what it might look like. Billions of sentients holding a line that ranged across thousands of stars, holding back a dark tide the likes of which no one had ever before seen. Sith versus Jedi, with the latter throwing themselves against red lightsabers in an effort to defend against an enemy that seemed to have multiplied overnight into an unimaginable force for destruction.

It had been almost three years since the battle on Geonosis had triggered galactic war, and Qui-Gon knew, now, that he hadn't even been close. There was no imagining the full horror of it. Even seeing it firsthand filled him with disbelief as he rode the winds in open transports, passing over seas of broken droids and bodies armored in white. It left his Knighted Padawan in tears, his lips a tight, grim line, while his wife stood next to him with her eyes full of steel.

They had defied the Council to wed after Geonosis. Qui-Gon had used profanity before that august body for the first time in his life to tell the nine attending Masters that there were certainly other, more pressing concerns in the galaxy to worry about than the marital status of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala. With that tide turned, a rush of bondings and weddings had followed, Jedi and soldier alike trying to find hope in each other.

Why the hell that had led to Mace and Yoda inviting Qui-Gon to join the Council was anyone's guess. He'd been asked before, long ago, and had turned the post down. This time, Qui-Gon had considered everything he had seen and learned since Roxuli before saying yes, becoming Depa Billaba's replacement when madness had seized Mace's treasured Padawan. Later, Micah Giett had confided that the rest of the Council had been considering Coleman Kcaj, which had made Qui-Gon shudder. Coleman was as hidebound as Poof and Piell, and the Council didn't need any more of that.

Qui-Gon had to admit, though, that it was nice to argue and rail against the Council without being expected to bow his head in deference. They had probably had the opportunity to regret that they could no longer shut him up when they wished.

The downside was that he was one of the first to see the mission reports coming in from the field (or sent to him in the field), to see the names of the dead scrolling past. It was worse when their killers were listed beside each name. Asajj Ventress, Tyrannus's apprentice, a fiery killing machine with hatred in her heart for anything Jedi. Grievous, the Kaleesh who had been molded by the droid factories of the Separatists into a cunning, brilliant general that was literally a machine. He had cut such a swath through the Jedi that there was a special task force assigned to the single purpose of hunting him down. Durge, the ancient Gen'Dar bounty hunter who killed Mandalorians and Jedi for sport. At least they didn't have to worry about that near-immortal enemy any longer. Anakin had saved them all a lot of grief and heartache by flinging the bastard into a sun.

When Venge was listed next to the names of the fallen, parts of him crystallized, and warmth could not touch him.

It was Durge's death that had given the Jedi and the clone army one singular chance at rest, for the Separatists had pulled back with the Gen'Dar's defeat. They would regroup, and the surge to push past Republic blockades would begin anew. Despite all of their efforts, the Separatists were winning, defeating the Republic army with numbers that were capable of near-infinite replenishment. Qui-Gon feared that, before things were over, they would be defending the skies over Coruscant instead of the Inner Rim systems.

He gazed out at Coruscant's skyline, mulling over the relative calm. We don't look like we're at war. Not here, he thought. The soldiers were around, on occasion, but they were men and women on leave and forbidden to wear their armor when not on active duty. It was a move from the Senate to help people to remain calm, and one of the few intelligent things they had done of late. It was also a large body swinging around the last of its power, for the Chancellor held sway, now.

That thought made his lip curl in anger, but he had no time to think about it. Micah was there next to him in that moment, a gentle hand on his arm. "Hey now, Qui-Gon. I could feel your anger the moment I stepped off the turbolift. Don't you go Sith on us now."

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes as he glanced at his lifelong friend. "Micah, that is a really inappropriate remark."

"Course it is," he said, smiling. The motion pulled at his face, highlighting the lines that had marked him as the war had raged. Qui-Gon had more than a few new lines of his own. "That's why I said it. You ready for our first big Council meeting since we bullied the others into getting you in last year?"

Qui-Gon blew out a long breath, turning away from the window. The antechamber to the Council room was empty, still, but he could sense the others approaching, exhaustion leaking into the Force from them all. "Not really, Micah. You?"

"Surprisingly, yes. If we're here, it means we're not out there," he said, and his eyes lost some of their usual spark. "If more bureaucracy means less dying, I'm all for it."

He had a point, Qui-Gon admitted. They both turned as Mace Windu, Yoda, and Ki Adi Mundi stepped off the lift, filing into the antechamber with little more than acknowledging nods. Mace's left arm was still wrapped from Grievous's latest attempt to remove it with his lightsabers. He'd refused a Healer, insisting that others needed it more. Yoda's limp was more pronounced than usual, his stick hitting the ground with echoing thumps. The ancient Master had joked that he had walked more in the last year than he had in the last decade, and his hoverchair had been tossed aside as an unwieldy extravagance. Ki Adi Mundi looked the least scathed, but his pain he hid within himself, for most of his daughters had been killed during a Separatist incursion on Cerea.

"Let's get on with this," Mace said, his tone a grumble, as he waved his hand at the control panel, signaling the great doors to open.

Three hours later, Qui-Gon was no longer sure he agreed with Micah's assessment on the usefulness of Council bureaucracy. Yes, they were accomplishing much, but it was minutiae, things that others in the Order could have done without them. He knew well enough that strategy was on the agenda as well, but it would have felt less frustrating if they had tackled those issues first.

The great doors swinging inward caught his attention, and his skin crawled when a whisper of darkness wafted into the chamber. "What the hell?" Mace was saying, as Qui-Gon's eyes locked upon the dark shadow that waited in the entryway.

Twelve Jedi were on their feet at once, half of the Council igniting blades of blue and green and pointing them in the direction of the cloaked and hooded man who seemed to be breathing out threat and promise. "Hold," Yoda said, his voice like iron, when Luminara Unduli and Kit Fisto moved towards the black shadow. "A guest we have," the ancient Master intoned, his eyes narrowed with anger. "Harm him, we will not."

"What, we should just wait until he starts harming us?" Kit asked, a thread of fear beneath his sarcastic response.

The shadow offered the Master a soft chuckle. "Master Fisto, if I wanted any of you dead, I would have chosen a much more convenient, less suicidal method." He paused. "Though if it makes you feel any better, take a swing."

To Qui-Gon's surprise, one of the Councilors took Darth Venge up on his offer. Agen Kolar ignited his lightsaber and swung, only to halt in surprise when his blade died before the attack could be completed. The Master uttered a frustrated growl as he turned his lightsaber hilt upside down. A gentle rain of crystal dust poured down onto the tiled floor.

"Feel better?" the Sith asked solicitously. The Zabrak swore at him, reattaching his now useless lightsaber to his belt. "Hmm. Thought not. Never made me any happier, either. If anyone else wants to give it a shot, feel free. Though I warn you: kill me, and you will never stop the Sith. You will never find Darth Sidious." He walked forward, stared at by twelve war-weary Jedi masters. All had lost friends to the man they had once called ally.

"You speak lies, Darth Venge," Ki Adi Mundi snapped. "The Sith will be found, and he will be destroyed."

"Oh, yes." In the shadows of his hood, Qui-Gon could make out the barest hints of that blasted smirk. "And a bang-up job you're doing of it, too. For two decades the Sith Lord has thrived under your very noses and you have yet to notice his existence. If he flees, you will never find him."

"And you protect your Master, of course," Plo Koon said, his voice a hiss of anger beneath his mask.

"Of course I do," Venge said, turning to look directly at Qui-Gon. "He's forgotten how to fucking duck."

Despite the tremulous nature of his feelings for the man standing before him, Qui-Gon managed a smile. "I did duck." That had been an interesting duel. Facing off against Obi-Wan-Venge, trying to defeat the Sith without killing him. Difficult, considering Venge seemed not to be granting the same courtesy. What had ended that horrible fight was Anakin's surprise appearance, his Padawan using a Force-push to shove Obi-Wan off of the landing platform. He had fallen into darkness, and that was the last they had seen of him. Until now.

"Mmm. And only lost half your hair instead of your head. Good job."

"Why are you here?" Mace bit out, interrupting whatever response Qui-Gon might have made. His hand still rested on the hilt of his lightsaber. "Speak quickly, Venge, for none of us are in the mood to spare you."

"At last, someone asks me a question." Venge's steps slowed until he stood in the center of the room, at an equal distance from each member of the Council. He received not the serene acceptance of other Jedi, but anger and a barely repressed need to strike. Qui-Gon looked around at the darkened faces of those he called friends and thought: This war has broken us.

"Then you do know the identity of the Sith Lord," Micah said, staring hard at the Sith.

"I have known for three years," Venge replied, startling all of the waiting Jedi save Qui-Gon.

Shaak Ti glanced at the three Masters who sat together - Micah, Mace, and Yoda, last survivors of the five Jedi who had once asked a new Knight to do a terrible thing. When the war had begun, they had confessed their role in Obi-Wan Kenobi's disappearance and subsequent Turning, for Darth Venge's identity was by then obvious. She looked back at the Sith, her eyes narrowed. "You have known all of that time, and said nothing? Why even come to us now, if not to bring harm?"

"It wouldn't have done any good," Qui-Gon growled, the anger he had felt earlier returning in a rush. "We would have taken the information and destroyed ourselves with it." This time eleven Jedi Masters all turned their attention upon him, registering varying degrees of surprise.

His features were still in shadow, but Qui-Gon could still see that Venge was smiling in genuine pleasure. "I didn't think it would take you long, not after Geonosis."

"Three months," Qui-Gon replied, his voice flat. How frustrating that moment had been, to realize the path Obi-Wan had led him down ended in chaos if he were to pursue it.

Yoda's ears were lowered, his eyes glittering with ire. "Told us, you should have!" he exclaimed.

"Wise he was, to tell you not," Venge mimicked. "Or do you think Qui-Gon Jinn a man who would betray you?"

"Why not?" Agen snapped. "You did." The Sith did not even acknowledge the other Master's words.

"Makes us do many things, love does," Yoda retorted. "Sane, most of it is not."

The Sith laughed, a strange, dry sound that echoed in the Council chamber. "It does indeed. You should know that well, Master Yoda."

The ancient Master dropped his gaze and sighed, but did not reply. Mace glared at Venge. "Can we assume, then, that circumstances have changed? Or are you just here to gloat?"

Venge was still for a moment before lifting his arms and pushing back the hood of his cloak. Qui-Gon stared at the white that was streaking his copper hair and mourned. Venge's eyes were harder, colder, than they had ever been, but he was tired, too. Qui-Gon could see it in the lines on his face, the slump to his shoulders, the hard set to his mouth. The black scrawl of tattoos across his cheeks and forehead did nothing but add to that air of exhaustion. "Do I look like I'm in the mood to gloat, Master Windu?" To his credit, Mace inclined his head, acknowledging the Sith's words.

Venge smiled again, but it was joyless, bitter. "Darth Sidious is well over one hundred years old, yet seems far younger. He bonds with his apprentices, and certain chosen few who can bear the strain. He feeds off of their life force, thriving while they falter and die."

"He's killing you," Luminara murmured, her voice filled with the revulsion that Venge's revelation brought them. "Is that why you're here? You want the Jedi to destroy him for you?"

"No. I have already set Darth Sidious's downfall in motion. Right now, certain members of the Loyalist Committee are presenting evidence unmasking Darth Sidious's true identity, his treason against the Republic, and the actions he took to instigate a galactic war that has taken countless lives." He looked at Qui-Gon, and there was a flicker of anger in Venge's amber eyes, but it was not directed at him. "Knight Skywalker is with them. It is best if he witnesses this firsthand, I think."

Qui-Gon nodded, stunned at his former Padawan's audacity. If Sidious reacted the way he suspected... then yes, it would certainly convince Anakin of the duplicitous nature of the man who claimed to be his friend. "Manipulative."

Venge inclined his head. "Learned from the best," he said, though Qui-Gon wasn't sure if that was a compliment. "If all goes well, Sidious will retreat to Byss, where he has a hidden base in the northern mountains. There he should meet his defeat, though it will take some doing. If that fails, then there are other contingencies in place that will at least make it difficult for him to ever develop another power base."

"I don't understand," Ki-Adi Mundi said, looking at Venge in irritated perplexity. "If you're stopping him - and I don't think you'll be successful, but that's another matter -- what do you want from us?"

Venge glanced back at Qui-Gon, their eyes locking. The muted amber flickered, and Qui-Gon sucked in a breath, horrified by the desolation he could sense lurking beneath that reptilian surface, coupled with a strange pleading. Then Venge turned his attention back to the entire Council, his jaw set. "I need you to stop me."

"Done," Mace said, though Qui-Gon and several others glanced at him in concern.

Venge didn't seem bothered. "Vengeance for Master Gallia, Master Windu?"

Mace gave Venge a cold stare. It had been no secret that Mace Windu and Adi Gallia had loved each other, though they had never bonded. Mace had not taken her death well. "You have killed hundreds of our number, Darth Venge."

"Do not seek my death for that reason. You know very well where that leads," Venge said, the counsel surprising, coming from a Sith. "Better this: the line of Bane must end, or the Jedi will fall."

Qui-Gon saw the sad, resigned acceptance in Yoda's eyes, and the part of him that had held out hope for six years grew angry. "There has to be another way!" I do not want Roxuli and death to be all that lies between us, he thought.

"Dammit, Qui-Gon!" Venge shouted, shocking him. "All you are is a means of control! That's the only reason Sidious hasn't had you slaughtered! You are mine, as Padme Amidala is Anakin's! Take away that control and the galaxy burns!" He drew in a deep breath, eyes near-glowing with anger. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer, but it was brittle, doing nothing to hide crumbling sanity. "As much as it may surprise you, I do not-" Venge's words became strangled, and he closed his eyes, teeth bared in a grimace of pain. Before anyone could question what was happening, a halo of dark, violet energy lanced his form, surrounding him in a brief corona.

"I guess that Senate hearing has concluded," Micah said, and then swore when Venge's image fluttered, became transient, before solidifying once more. "What the fuck was that!?"

Venge opened his eyes, gasping for air. The remnant of Force Lightning - for Qui-Gon knew of nothing else that looked like that - was still sparking off of his body. "I told you... wasn't suicidal. Think... I'd put myself... in a room with... twelve pissy Jedi Masters?" Qui-Gon had to smile at that, despite his increasing worry. He noticed the rueful agreement on Shaak Ti's face, found matching sentiment with Ki-Adi Mundi.

Venge paused, trying to collect himself. "Force Illusion... With a few tricks of the Sith thrown in... makes it more real. If you were unwilling to listen, I couldn't afford to die here. Not with Sidious still alive." The lightning struck again, and Venge hissed, his teeth clenched as he refused to voice the agony that Force Lightning brought. "Trying... to prove a point. Force Illusion doesn't get good press with you. Seen as too quick. Too easy. Too manipulative. But... when you ditch the knowledge of your elders... for fear of what it might bring... all you have done is hand your enemy yet one more weapon to use against you."

The Sith grimaced in pain and sank to his knees, head lowered. The violet electrical discharge kept washing over his slight frame, wrapping around him with vibrant yet Dark tendrils, seeking to tear things asunder. Somewhere else, far from the Council chamber, Venge was being assaulted by a Sith Lord's wrath. Qui-Gon couldn't ever remember feeling so helpless, for there was nothing he could do to stop this. There had been nothing he could do to stop this for far too long.

Qui-Gon was on his knees next to Venge, not even aware that he was going to move until he had done so. He could not even touch the man before him, who, despite the Sith name the Jedi had helped to brand him with, was still trying to stop the being who had torn the galaxy apart. "He's killing you," Qui-Gon whispered.

Venge shook his head, even as the pain seemed to worsen, his projection fading around the edges. "No, he won't. He can't. I've killed everyone else he was bonded to, and if I die, he can't make the first transfer to one of his damned clone bodies. He needs a conduit for that." When Qui-Gon drew back in surprise, Venge nodded. "Yes. Dooku, too. He never knew... how much Sidious was... using him. Just a... means to an end."

"The bastard has clones, too?" Kit Fisto said in disgust. "Thorough, isn't he?"

"Heh," Venge breathed out the laugh. "Very." The cords on his neck were standing out as he lifted his head, though by now his image was almost transparent as his concentration wavered. "Go... to... Byss, damn you all! You can stop him, you have just one chance! Take it!"

"Gods-all, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon all but yelled, his hands curled into useless fists. "How does he know?!"

Their eyes met, and for one brief, agonizing moment, clear blue overrode tainted amber. "He knows... because of the transmitter embedded in Master Giett's wrist." Then Venge screamed, the haze of electricity swallowing up the place where his image had been resting on the Council chamber floor.