As the transport made its descent toward Coruscant's planetary metropolis, the anticipation within was palpable. The rumbling of the ship softened to a low hum as it approached the Republic's capital, the view of towering skyscrapers and glittering lights expanding in all directions like a sea of stars in broad daylight. Inside, Lelouch's soldiers stood ready, forming into perfect ranks with precision as they prepared for the disembarkation. The transport doors whirred, decompressing with a hiss as they slid open, unveiling a scene that would etch itself into memory: an enormous crowd, millions strong, blanketed the landing platform and stretched far into the adjacent districts.
A thunderous cheer erupted, washing over Lelouch's men like a tidal wave. The roar filled the air, vibrating in the core of every soldier present. The cries intensified as Lelouch appeared, his silhouette striking as he stepped from the transport, his confident gait unshaken amidst the unyielding praise that seemed to shiver in every corner of the vast plaza. It was an overwhelming force of adoration, a salute not just to the commander but to the icon Lelouch had become, the High General whose victories had reshaped the course of a war. Banners waved with his emblem, faces lit up with smiles and awe; it was a reception fit for a hero, perhaps even more for a leader who had captured the heart of a nation at war.
Quickly, Lelouch and his entourage moved through the crowd, taking a swift route into the heart of the Senate building, guided by silent, armored escorts. The atmosphere shifted as they entered the Senate's quiet depths. There, the sounds of cheering were replaced by the soft padding of boots against marbled floors and the ever-present, subtle hum of security devices. Finally, they arrived before the grand office of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. The heavy doors opened smoothly, and Lelouch entered, the air inside thick with an unspoken gravity.
As the doors closed, the Chancellor rose from behind his desk, his expression warm, nearly paternal as he approached. His red robes were perfectly tailored, his eyes gleaming with an approving light as they settled upon Lelouch. Palpatine opened his arms, his voice rich with a kind of practiced benevolence that seemed to encompass both pride and admiration.
"My boy," he said, his voice brimming with pride, "another resounding triumph. The Republic owes more to you than words can express." Palpatine approached, his hand resting briefly on Lelouch's shoulder before gesturing to a comfortable chair. "Please, be at ease."
Lelouch inclined his head, a faint smile brushing his lips as he took the offered seat. He carried himself with an effortless authority, yet he acknowledged Palpatine with the respect due to the elder statesman and mentor before him. As he settled in, Palpatine leaned forward, his gaze intense with curiosity.
"Tell me," the Chancellor began, his tone lower, more intimate, "how did your latest venture progress? I'm very interested to know about this… search of yours." He waved his hand slightly, his curiosity sharpened by the subtle tension in his voice. "Did you manage to uncover anything of particular worth?"
Lelouch hesitated a moment, the memory of his recent pursuit flashing briefly in his mind. "Unfortunately," he replied, his tone thoughtful, "the journey was less productive than anticipated. I was only able to retrieve a set of directions, a trail that seems to lead near the Core. No more than a faint echo of what might have once been there."
Palpatine's expression tightened, a shadow flickering across his face as he processed the news. His eyes narrowed, the faintest hint of frustration visible before his features relaxed once more, his voice regaining its usual calm. "A disappointment, indeed," he murmured, almost to himself. "Though, I suppose it's not unexpected. The Jedi of old guarded their knowledge… far more meticulously than those of today. They were a breed apart." He sat back, his gaze turning reflective. "It seems they intended their secrets to remain hidden from all but themselves. I take this search did not leave any witnesses?"
"Due to the sad and untimely tragedy of Skustell... no." Lelouch reported with an unconcerned expression.
A silence settled between them, thick with shared understanding, before Palpatine shifted topics. He leaned forward, his face darkening slightly as he addressed a more immediate concern.
"Now," he began, a faint distaste coloring his words, "we face another matter with the Jedi Council. They've grown restless, displeased over recent actions—particularly concerning Pong Krell and his… unfortunate demise. They are questioning not only his actions but also the intervention that led to his execution at the hands of his own men." Palpatine's lips curled in faint irritation. "It appears they're eager to discuss your decision to override their authority concerning the clone trooper, who took Krell's life."
Lelouch absorbed the information, his expression neutral as he nodded. "I expected as much." he said smoothly. "The Jedi cling to their traditions. Any deviation, and they start to worry. And traditionally, they have rarely been dismissed so openly."
Palpatine let out a small, amused huff. "Indeed. But no matter, we'll manage them, as we always have." His gaze glinted with dark satisfaction. "They're too preoccupied with the superficial issues to realize how tenuous their influence has become."
For a moment, they spoke on the matter in quiet tones, Lelouch gauging the conversation with practiced ease, until he shifted the topic.
"And the Senate?" he inquired, his voice light, but with a carefully placed edge of curiosity. "I trust they're still favorable to certain… changes?"
A knowing smile spread across Palpatine's face, as if they had entered territory both familiar and deeply satisfying. "Yes, my boy. In fact, the Senate is aligning itself far more readily to our plans than even I expected." He leaned back, his fingers steepling in front of him. "The time draws nearer than we had initially foreseen, thanks in no small part to your recent achievements. You have fostered loyalty and respect, and your victories have shaped the very sentiment of the Republic. And, of course, your natural gift in… persuasion has done its part. The children you once conversed with in the Legislative Youth Program are now all grown up, a good number of them having already replaced their predecessors."
His gaze turned sharp with a touch of delight. "Take the Kuat of Kuat, for example. The title has just recently changed hands due to an unfortunate… accident. Undoubtedly, the work of those CIS agents." He shook his head, his tone both regretful and amused. "The new Kuat has expressed full support for the Republic's war efforts, pledging resources, and even one of their prized Mandator-class Star Dreadnoughts, to be placed under your command."
Lelouch couldn't help but let a wry smile slip through. "Pity I missed it."
Palpatine's expression softened with pride. "Oh, if only you had seen him in person. The man's fervor for our cause was almost blinding."
They raised their glasses, a brief toast passing between them as they drank, their mutual satisfaction creating a sense of camaraderie that hung in the air. Lelouch let a moment of silence pass before he spoke again, his tone inquisitive.
"Speaking of our cause, I've been giving thought to the Separatists," he said carefully. "Their leaders and political infrastructure… How does the other side of this war stand, given our accelerated timeline?"
Palpatine's expression shifted, a glint of pleasure in his eyes as he considered the question. "As it happens, I've taken to eliminating certain… loose ends," he said, his voice a mere whisper, laced with dark satisfaction. "In fact, even now, Count Dooku's prized toy general is en route to handle a bothersome nuisance—our former apprentice and her pitiful hole of witches, clinging to the Force like parasites."
Lelouch's eyes gleamed as he absorbed this revelation, but his interest took a new turn. "If I may make a suggestion," he ventured, "I would rather like to keep the general alive. While inconsequential to the force, he has proven himself a sharp blade, and an invaluable tool... in the right hands."
Sidious regarded him with a raised brow, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he weighed the proposal. "A pragmatic suggestion. True, it's rare to find an individual both capable and unthreatening to our aims." He allowed a dark smile to curl his lips, nodding slowly. "Very well. I will see to it that certain… stones are moved, ensuring the general's survival. Count Dooku will be none the wiser." He cast Lelouch an approving glance, his voice a touch conspiratorial. "After all, it would be a shame to waste such a blade, especially when it remains in our control."
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The surface of Dathomir loomed closer through the viewport as General Grievous stood in his command station, encased in a new, obsidian-black armor. The armor was formidable—heavier than the ivory-white plating he had once worn, now intricately carved with symbols of dark power and ancient, incoherent scripts. It seemed to pulse as if alive, an outer shell matching the pitiless, relentless warrior within. Beneath his mask, Grievous's eyes glowed with a lethal satisfaction, a feral anticipation.