Note: We know this is a bit...unusual by the standards of SV roleplay. We cut our teeth on TFN, wherein you (almost always) lacked an OOC thread barring a well-established game. Ergo, you always put the prologue up to get interest.
So. Yeah. Doing that here too 
(also to establish where some of the more prominent characters will be, should someone want to *play* as those characters)
Galaxy Asunder
This is Galactic News, your source for all the latest news.
Chancellor Palpatine is dead!! A Jedi team lead by Master Windu has assassinated the Chancellor in his office! They claim that he was a 'Sith Lord' controlling the war from the background…
With a heavy sigh, Mas Amedda tuned out the broadcast. This was not going according to the plan at all. Palpatine should have killed the Jedi and formed the Empire to secure the Galaxy. Now…now he was dead and gone. The line of the Sith Lords had ended. Amedda knew, more than any, that he was far from capable of bringing that back. His understanding of the Dark Side was minimal. Even the lowliest Dark Acolyte of that fool, Dooku, was by far his superior. Perhaps he knew more of the Sith lore. Perhaps he could find more, hidden in places only he and the deceased Chancellor had known of. It would not be enough. Bane's line had failed.
Here he was, left to pick up the pieces of a plan spanning a millennia. A broken Empire shorn of its leader. Amedda was no fool. A sycophant and consummate politician, perhaps, but not a fool. He could attempt to continue the Sith, though what little he knew amounted to scraps and trinkets. He could lead the Empire, stepping into the role of Emperor, as he would have taken over the Chancellorship. Both of those tasks would push him to his limits. Only a true fool, or a power-hungry madman, would think it an easy task.
An Empire forged in the shadows by a human. An Empire reliant primarily upon pro-human and xenophobic power blocs. An Empire where the core ideology would see men such as myself relegated to second-class citizens, at best. Amedda sighed once more and resisted every urge he felt to run from his newfound responsibility.
I knew this would be the case, though I was content in the knowledge that His Majesty would allow me to remain as his advisor. Above all the discrimination and safe from retaliation. Now?
Now he was the only man who knew even a fraction of Sheev Palpatine's plans for the Galaxy. The one in position to step into the suddenly vacant role of Emperor.
While being a non-human, ruling over a coalition of anti-alien xenophobes and human supremacists. Men like Tarkin.
"So it shall be, then." Amedda squared his shoulders and made his decision. Live or die. He had not gotten so far without knowing when to make a move and when to retreat.
If I do not make a move now, the Empire will be stillborn. Torn apart at the seams by ambitious humans with too much power and too little brains. I will not see his- my -life's work die like this.
Decision made, Amedda rose the Chancellor pod to the Senate chambers. He was greeted by a still and deadly silence the likes of which he had never experienced. Even at the height of the Clone Wars. Or the moment of silence that had been anything but, when Valorum had been murdered. It was a distinctly alien sensation. Amedda knew it would not last when he made his statements.
"...nothing for it." The Chagrian whispered to himself, before squaring his shoulders once again. He spoke, smooth and practiced tones echoing in the silence. Senators watched with bated breath, as he said, "Greetings, my friends. Truly, I wish there were better circumstances for this meeting of our illustrious Senate." Sharp eyes and even sharper ears picked up on scoffs from certain corners, namely that accursed Delegation. "Alas, that is not why you have been called at such a late hour. I am afraid that our beloved Chancellor, Sheev Palaptine, is dead. Murdered in his office by those who claim to be our protectors."
The suffocating silence continued, save for murmurs of both disbelief and affirmation of long suspicions. Amedda allowed the murmurs and mutters to trail off, before continuing with a proper solemnness in his tone. He did not even need to fake it, nor the genuine pain. Perhaps it was not out of any true love for the man. More for the loss of a glorious future. Yet, it remained. A true pain of loss.
"Tonight is a night of mourning, my friends. The Jedi, our supposed protectors and guardians, have launched a coup against all they claim to hold dear." Now the shouting began. Amedda felt a hint of frustration as well as triumph, when he realized that the majority of the voices were shouting in anger
at the Jedi, rather than himself. Had he been a tad more attentive, he might have noticed that the most supportive voices for the Jedi were conspicuously silent.
He was not. Nor did he notice. Amedda continued his speech, running through the pre-planned words in his mind, "They will undoubtedly claim that the Chancellor was a Sith Lord. This is, naturally, a ludicrous claim. All know the Sith were extinct following the Battle of Ruusan a millennia ago." He held his hands high, a gesture to quiet the Senate. A futile one, as he was forced to rely on auditory augmentation to be heard. "Please, listen to my words, my friends! Even were the Jedi telling the truth, it would still be no reason for their actions! Adhering to the religion of the Sith is no crime. A religious squabble is no reason to take unilateral action and assassinate the leader of the Republic itself!"
A bold-faced lie. Had Palpatine not rewritten the laws himself, with Amedda's aid and approval, being a Sith
was a crime. Laws dating back to the Jedi Civil War spoke to that, even had the New Sith Wars not reinforced them. Yet the Chancellor
had rewritten the laws. Merely being a Sith or following their code did not constitute a violation of any laws, now, save for those of the Jedi. And those laws did not supersede those of the Republic. Quite a sound move on the Chancellor's part, even if it was being used posthumously, now.
With the Senate gradually quieting, once more, Amedda stared out at the pods. It was impossible to see each and every Senator. He did not need to do so. Everywhere he looked, save for the obvious troublemakers, he saw thoughtful expressions reflected back. As well as loyal nods from certain corners. It was time, then. Amedda tensed himself, clutched his staff tightly, and continued. It was time to do what Palpatine had planned. In spite of his lack of power. Or the respect the great man had held.
So be it.
"In light of this, I move in accordance with the final will and testament of Sheev Palpatine. The Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire." His soft voice was overtaken by shouting and cheers. By applause, grudging though it may have been when he spoke his next words, "I will take the post of Emperor, as I would have with the Chancellorship. I promise you this, my friends and colleagues. The Jedi are not above the law. No one is. I will use the power of my office to the best of my ability to punish those who took our beloved Chancellor from us."
The Chagrian, the non-human Emperor, stepped back as the applause continued. The Senators put a formal vote to go with his declaration, though it was always going to be a formality. Amedda would not have made it, were he concerned it would fail. Even with everything standing in his way, he knew the result before he had even opened his mouth.
He would be proven correct. As he stood back, the vote results came in. The overwhelming majority of the Senate voted in favor of the Declaration of Empire. He knew some of those votes were very begrudging, planets such as Kuat or Eriadu holding their noses as they voted for a non-human Emperor. Their desire for power still prompted them to vote in favor, however. All who did, at least those who knew anything of Palpatine's ambitions, did so because they knew they would be made rich by it. Greed was a powerful motivator.
And yet...
"This Empire is not legal." The voice that came from every Senate pod, and from Amedda's podium, was distorted. Covered up from identifying whomever it was. As it spoke, many Senators stood from their pods and exited the Senate building. "The Republic has stood for 25,000 years, through Sith Wars and Mandalorian conflicts. Through Civil Wars and Dark Times. As our ancestors did during the time of the Pius Dea Crusades, so we shall do now."
When the last of the dissenting Senators left the chamber, the message finished. With a note of finality, the distorted voice finished, "We cannot, will not, support this brazen seizure of power. If we must leave this Empire to preserve the Republic's ideals, so we shall. If you have any sense of what is right, you shall do the same."
Stunned silence rang through the Senate. Even the Separatists hadn't so brazenly left the Senate, operating in secret before their final break. This was unprecedented. Never before had so many left in unison. Never before had the Senate fractured with such a sense of brutal finality. The Republic had perished, and the Empire had broken before it could even stretch its wings from the ashes.
Watching it all, Amedda clenched his staff and let his shoulders fall. It was an act. Yet it was also not.
"It is unfortunate that they felt the need to leave in such a way," the newly crowned Emperor spoke sadly. His very real sorrow having less to do with those who left, and far more to do with how the Empire was already fracturing underneath him. His life depended on it enduring, after all. "However, we must and shall continue on. The people of the Galaxy need our guiding hand now, more than ever."
Perhaps Palpatine could have gotten away with
my guiding hand. Amedda could not. He ruled at the whim of the real power brokers, for the moment. Perhaps he might, one day, assume direct control. That day was not today.
As such, he held his hand up and brought it down sharply in the still stunned silence, "I request one simple vote, for the moment. To dissolve the Jedi Order and imprison their members. Let the dissenters be, without the Jedi, they will return in due time. It is inevitable."
It should come as no surprise that, with the most vocal voices gone, the vote was a perfunctory motion. The Jedi Order was doomed. With the full authorization of the rump Senate backing his words, when Amedda issued Order 66 later that night...the vast majority of the Clones heeded his words. Across the Galaxy, the Jedi would become wanted fugitives. Even if only from beyond the grave, Sheev Palpatine's will would be done.
Darth Sidious would see his plan come to fruition.
Inside the Jedi Temple, not far from the Senate building, chaos reigned. Jedi and Temple Security ran through halls and hangars, desperately attempting to prepare defenses. To prepare shuttles for a prompt evacuation. The news from the Senate had not taken long to reach the Temple at all, carried by sympathetic Senators. Even before Amedda had finished his speech, Masters such as Cin Drallig had begun evacuation procedures. Stepping over the authority of the High Council? Perhaps.
By the time that two members of said Council arrived, there were only four surviving members of the High Council in the entire Galaxy.
With grunts of discomfort, a wounded Mace Windu was hobbling off a Temple transport into this chaos. His arm was slung over Anakin Skywalker's shoulders, supporting a body still suffering from aftereffects of Sith Lightning. These two Jedi were the only survivors of the attack on Palpatine- Sidious -and only Skywalker escaped without injuries. Physical, at any rate. Dark bags lingered under the eyes of the younger Jedi. If one looked closely enough, they would see the faded tracks of tears upon his face. Red surrounding his blue eyes.
His decision had not been an easy one. He wondered if he would live to regret it.
For the moment, however, Anakin moved with a single-minded focus. He helped the wounded Master down into the Temple Landing Bay. He looked at the Jedi attempting to evacuate and knew that this was his fault. If he had just waited...if he had acted sooner...
No. No. Thinking about that didn't do anyone any good. He had made his choice and now he had to deal with the consequences. No matter what they may be.
"Master Windu! Master Skywalker!" A young Padawan, green eyes wide with fear, ran up to the pair. His lightsaber, unlit but held in his hand, shook with his clear emotion. No calm detachment here. "What--have you hear---"
"Padawan, I need you to sound the evacuation alert," Mace ground out, pulling his arm away from Anakin. The old black man shook his head, dispelling his pain at least enough for this. "There isn't any time to waste. The 'Empire' will be here soon." His dark eyes narrowed in clear frustration, though if he felt
anger he buried it deep, deep down. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life. We must evacuate to save the Order."
The Padawan gulped, his brown braid shaking behind his head, "I--I apologize, Master, but Master Drallig has already ordered the evacuation begun. He did before you even arrived...."
"Cin always did what he pleased," the Master of the Order grit out a thin smile. He placed a hand on the hilt of his own lightsaber and gripped it tightly. "Good. That's one problem solved. Skywalker!"
Snapping to attention, Anakin stared at Mace. His face still bore signs of grief, yet it was subsumed under the calm assurance of a veteran warrior, "Yes, Master?"
"I want you to organize the evacuation. We need someone who knows what they're doing, and no one has more experience in this damn war than you," Mace actually smiled properly at Anakin, for perhaps the first time, as he continued, "You did well tonight, Anakin. Keep it up and we might salvage something from this mess."
"You---" Anakin began, before fiercely shaking his head. If he rubbed at his eyes, no one commented on it. "I'll do that. Don't let yourself be killed now, Master. Obi-Wan would never let me hear the end of it if I let you run off and die."
Mace chuckled in spite of himself, "The same goes to you, Skywalker. Now go! We don't have time to waste!"
The Knight and the Master split up at that point. Anakin sprinted to the communications center to send out calls to evacuate and organize the defense of the Temple. Mace slumped to the ground, settling into a meditative pose to recover his strength. If he fought at that moment, he would be no good to anyone. So, he rested. Waited. Regained his strength. As he did so, he thought back to the Chancellor's office. His greatest regrets.
His fellow Masters falling, one by one, as he tried to keep Palpatine's attention. His defeat of the Sith Lord, only for the man to fake weakness and attempt to kill him by surprise. The blue light of Skywalker's blade severing the Sith Lord's hands, allowing Mace to fight past his pain and pierce the black heart of Palpatine.
"Skywalker...you earned my respect, tonight." Mace muttered, his eyes remaining shut. He could feel his body slowly recovering as the Force flowed through him. "You were conflicted and yet you still stood by the Jedi in the end. I was wrong about you, I suppose."
Opening his eyes, Mace stood once more, the Force and raw determination fueling him now.
"You will be a Master by the end of this. You have finally proven yourself."
The young man in question raced back into the hangar, just a moment too late to hear Mace's words. Anakin's blue eyes snapped to the older Jedi, returning a nod that Mace sent his way. Anakin rushed up to Mace's side, a deep frown etched across his face. "I did what I could, Master Windu. The rest of the Knights and Masters already went to the gate to fight." His uncharacteristic frown deepened, "Should I join them?"
It was telling, actually, how out of sorts Anakin truly was. Normally he'd just rush into the battle without question.
"No." Mace's word was final. He clapped a hand on Anakin's shoulder, squeezing gently, for him. "I don't doubt your ability, Skywalker, but right now we need you here. There isn't a better pilot in the Order, so get on one of those shuttles and make sure at least one of them gets out."
Anakin almost protested but held his tongue. Mace was right, of course. With Anakin as the pilot, at least one shuttle had a far greater chance of escaping. And if the sounds of blaster fire were any indication, they didn't have much time. When had the Clones breached the Temple? Had they been that slow to prepare?
"Come on, into the shuttles!" Without any hesitation, Anakin began to bark out orders. He waved his newly lit lightsaber to emphasize his point and draw attention to himself. "If you don't hurry, you're getting left behind! And trust me, those Clones won't miss! Hurry!"
Putting action to words, Anakin directed every youngling and Padawan he could find towards the shuttles, along with a fair few injured Knights. Dozens upon dozens of Jedi and Temple Security were stuffed into a relative handful of shuttles. No one had ever imagined needing to rush an evacuation like this. Several of the shuttles were down for maintenance or stored deeper in the Temple, where they couldn't possibly be brought out in time. It was little surprise that the shuttles were overloaded with evacuees.
And even so, they were going to be leaving behind most of Temple Security and the senior Knights and Masters.
Nothing for it. They could only save as many as they could. The rest would have to find their own way.
As soon as the last Youngling was aboard the last shuttle, Anakin moved to Mace's side again, "Come on Master. You're the last one."
But Mace shook his head, "I can't go with you, Skywalker. Someone needs to stay and help the stragglers." The old Master actually managed a wide and genuine smile, taking the bite out of his next words. "Get out of here, Skywalker. I'll get a message to Master Yoda and the others on the front. Now..."
With a rough shove of the Force, Mace threw Anakin into the arms of a Temple Security officer, smoothly transitioning to spinning around. His signature purple lightsaber sprang to life, catching a pair of blue blaster bolts. Those were reflected back into the visors of the Clones that had fired them.
"Get that fool aboard the shuttle and get out of here, now!" Mace shouted over his shoulder, as more and more Clones began to storm the hangar. The sound of lightsabers behind them spoke to continuing resistance by the Jedi, but Mace would have to face
these Clones alone.
Both the Master and Anakin felt a pang of loss when Clones fell to reflected bolts. These men, cloned or not, had become comrades. Allies. Friends. And now they were being struck down in self-defense, all due to the delusions of a dead man and his successor.
Knowing his job, even as he fought down the urge to jump back out, Anakin let the officer pull him into the shuttle. Once aboard, with the armored ramp closing behind him and the shields powering up, Anakin sprinted past crying younglings and Padawans, and into the cockpit.
With a deep scowl lining his face, Anakin plopped down into the pilot's seat and powered up the engines. Through the exterior cameras, he watched as Mace wade through the clones, fighting his way for the hallway. When he lost sight of the old Master, the young Knight pulled the shuttle free of the landing bay. With a flick of switches and a tug on the controls, Anakin shot the shuttle out of the Temple and into the night sky. Blue blaster bolts skittered off the shield and surrounded the shuttle, as the others formed up with him. They all soared away from a Temple in flames, the Jedi occupants doing their best to tune out the feelings of loss and pain. Of their fellow Jedi falling to the Clones.
Of the death throes of the Galactic Republic.
Through it all, Anakin Skywalker flew the shuttle. He had a job to do. And he would never fail a task once given.
