Assassin (A Star Wars Fan-Fiction) Book 3

Chapter Eighteen

Bail's hands turned into fists and he let out a loud yell of fury. He kicked his desk chair over, sent his papers and documents flying through the air, ran his fingers through his scalp and pulled til his skull seemed to scream just as loudly as him in pain. It wasn't true, it couldn't be. But it was. Padme hadn't been lying when she said that the Chancellor didn't listen to him, or any of the other Senators for that matter. His speech had been in vain. No matter how hard her tried, he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop Windu.

After finishing up his much-deserved tantrum and a sigh filled to the brim with frustration and pure discontent, Bail walked over to the cupboard in the corner of his office, pulled out his bottle of purple gumba-juice wine imported from a distant tropical planet in the Outer Rim he kept for special occasions,  popped the top off, climbed onto his empty desk and crossed his legs, and stared out the window. 

He couldn't stop the Republic cruisers as they flew by, their destination his home world where his most trusted friends and companions would be slaughtered in a civil war he'd given his all to stop. No, he couldn't stop them now. Bail pressed the bottle to his lips and took a long, slow drink. The purple wine bubbled and fizzled as it traveled down his throat and manifested in his stomach. Drinking on the job was usually something the Senator from Alderaan frowned upon. Regardless, he took another swig.

There was no point in staying sober now, anyway. No point in working, no point in paying attention to the rules. He examined the dark glass bottle, the bottom half covered in a label with a language printed on it he couldn't read, before pressing it to his lips again and the bubbly liquid traveled down his throat. Palpatine hadn't even considered his opinion on the matter, that meeting of the Senate was all just for show. Just to get him riled up, make him look like a fool. The old bastard probably spewed a bunch of filth about Bail after he'd left the Senate chambers in a huff, about how he was blind to see the real threat or some bantha-poodoo along those lines.

Democracy was dead.

So Bail was drinking.

* * * * * * * * * *

Denali didn't even really know where she was going, she just let the Force guide her in the right path. Her feet traveled quickly through the halls of the base, rushing past supporters of her cause and friends she'd made within her visit there, dodging and jumping over random objects in her way like chairs or stools or even people crouching down to pick up something off the floor.

When the pull of the Force became strongest in front of one of the many metal doors that lined every hallway in the facility, Denali slid to a sudden stop, arms pin-wheeling to prevent from falling on her face, and pressed the button on the control panel next to the piece of metal separating her and the hangar. Before the door was even open all the way, she sprinted into the hangar, where a fighter ship sat parked among the other ships that belonged to many of the Rancor Slayers.

He was climbing out of his ship, he hadn't even seen her yet. But he sensed her. And she was coming fast. Once he was safe with his boots on the ground, Anakin spun around just in time to catch Denali and wrap his arms around her waist tightly. It'd been so long since he hugged her last, touched her, felt her physical presence. It brought him peace, an inner peace he barely understood. She hugged him back, pressing her head into the crook of his neck and hanging on like her life depended on it. He was here. Her best friend, the little boy who called her an angel all those years ago, was here.

Everything was going to be alright. Anakin was here, supporting her, and she knew that he'd fight right along side her if he was able to. Sure, Obi-Wan being here would've been better and put her mind at a little more ease, but she couldn't complain. She knew how much the Order meant to him as well and she understood. She was just happy to have Anakin at the very least.