Against his better judgement and Obi-Wan’s advice, Anakin returned to Senator Stokra’s apartment the next morning. The night before had been untroubled by dreams so he was more than in control of himself when he entered.
Several of the security officers eyed him curiously, yet turned their backs to him without asking questions. They were almost done processing the scene, that afternoon Stokra wanted them out of there, not that there was much to see any way.
Anakin left them to it, they probably wouldn’t give him much information and he knew the real answers lay elsewhere. Much more elusive, and not detectable by any instruments.
Years ago on Avingnon, Kuan Yin Nevu had showed him how inanimate objects could still tell a story even in a situation where there was no witnesses. This was further heightened by what had happened to them, particularly if there had been violence.
He walked to the lightsaber gash on one of the halves of the desk, kneeling down and running his hand over the scar. This had happened fairly quickly, he could tell by the nature of the cut. He placed his hand firmly on the rounded edge, feeling through the Force, visualising the desk whole again…
Anakin saw the blue lightsaber blade slicing through the air as it cleaved the desk in two, behind the desk he could see the flicker of a robe as Senator Stokra backed away.
“You’ll never take me alive!” the senator shouted, feeling behind the wall for something.
Anakin looked behind him and up, Stokra’s attacker was just at his back but his face was shrouded with a hood.
A loud klaxon alarm started to blare.
“The general alarm,” he heard Stokra say, “not even you Jedi can stop that.”
The attacker turned, his hood shifting slightly from his face as he moved. Yet this was not enough for Anakin, he needed more to identify him. The attacker swung a lightsaber, yet as Anakin watched its path through the air it missed Stokra completely. The shove with the Force sent Stokra against the wall, his skull cracking with the impact.
The attacker then stood there for a moment, and it was at this moment that Anakin saw his face. For a moment he started, it couldn’t be possible. Then the attacker turned and left the room.
Anakin removed his hand from the desk, letting his senses bring him back to the present moment. It was then that he noticed that all the security officers were staring at him. Quickly he glanced at the chrono on the wall, two hours had passed. Anakin blinked, but what he had seen had only taken a few seconds!
He dismissed these queries and walked to the floor’s security office, he would need the security footage to confirm his suspicions.
Obi-Wan found Anakin at one of the terminals in the archives and was somewhat surprised to see him looking pleased. Obi-Wan assumed it could only mean one thing.
“You found the assassin?” Obi-Wan asked, pulling up a chair to sit beside him.
Anakin nodded. “I did, but there’s something I still can’t explain,” he replied.
“Take me through it,” Obi-Wan advised, “I’ll see if there’s any gaps in your findings.”
Anakin pressed a few keys. “We’ll start with the security footage,” he said, “that’s the only concrete evidence that I have.”
Obi-Wan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I used the desk to probe the Force,” Anakin told him, “that way I was able to get a real good look at him.” He pressed a few more keys, zooming in on one of the still images. “This is the best shot I could get of him,” Anakin continued, “he seems to know where the cameras are.”
Obi-Wan studied the image for a few minutes. It wasn't very clear. He could see a tall figure in a dark cloak carrying a blue lightsaber but that was about it. there were no distinguishing features. He couldn’t even see the face properly. “That’s all you can get?” he asked at last.
“Hey, I’m not editing a Holodrama here!” Anakin protested.
“Okay, okay,” Obi-Wan conceded. “So what have you done with that?”
Anakin brought another image to compare, it was of a Jedi that Obi-Wan vaguely recognised. “It’s Shinai Stel-Ardak,” Anakin told him, “and it matches up completely, height, build, everything. There’s only one problem, with this.” Anakin looked at him.
“I know,” Obi-Wan agreed, “he’s dead, been dead for about five years since the truce at Avingnon, but these things happen. We may have just lost track of him during the war, it’s happened more than once.”
“But I was there when he died, Obi-Wan,” Anakin argued, “I saw what happened to him, no one could have survived that.”
“What did happen to him?” Obi-Wan asked, looking at the details written next to Shinai’s image. “It says here—”
“Speeder crash, on Avingnon,” finished Anakin, “but that’s only part of it. He was fighting Pad—” Anakin stopped, taking in a few quick breaths.
“Go on,” Obi-Wan urged, “he was fighting, was it on top of the speeder?”
“Yes,” Anakin replied, “while it was going.”
“High through the air through a lot of traffic?” Obi-Wan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
Obi-Wan shook his head, but he should have he been expected nothing different. “And did he fall?”
“Not just that,” Anakin told him, “he was impaled.”
“Impaled?” For a moment Obi-Wan’s mind conjured up a grisly image. “In the chest?”
“No, the stomach,” Anakin said shortly.
“And why didn’t you tell me this until now?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Because it wasn’t me who did it,” Anakin barked, looking at the screen with a red face.
“Ah.” Obi-Wan chose to say nothing more for the moment. “You know there’s something else wrong with this.”
Anakin turned back to look at him. “What?”
“It’s not going to hold weight,” Obi-Wan told him, he gestured to the image comparison. “These bio-readings, they can be easily replicated if someone had enough time.”
Anakin frowned. “But why would anyone go to the bother of looking like someone that’s dead?”
“Why go to the bother of looking like someone else at all?” Obi-Wan asked as he got to his feet, he placed a reassuring hand on Anakin's shoulder. “And that, my friend, is what you have to find out.”
He left Anakin staring at the console.
“This constitution has been argued over long enough,” declared Stokra, his head notably shinier at the back with synth-flesh, “we as a body have decided the bulk of it, yet there is one issue on which some of my noble colleagues refuse to compromise.”
There were shouts of approval after he finished. The Chandrilla pod then entered the arena and it was recognised.
“Chandrilla fervently reminds the Senator from the Corporate Sector that the role of the Jedi in the Republic is a serious issue that cannot be taken lightly,” Mon Mothma decreed, her dark eyes flashing at Stokra.
“Well spoken, Senator,” remarked Stokra, “after all, it is not your own person that was subjected to a vicious attack, and by none other than a Jedi.”
Shouts and jeers echoed through the chamber.
Dekau called for order and Amedda eyed Stokra seriously. “The Senator for the Corporate Sector is warned,” the Chancellor said, “such comments are not appropriate for this chamber.”
“Since when it is inappropriate to speak the truth, Chancellor?” Stokra challenged. “Silence me if you must, but you know I speak the truth!”
Dekau called for order again and when it was re-established, Amedda continued to address Stokra.
“Even you know Senator, that it is erroneous to make accusations if they are based on circumstantial evidence—”
“Circumstantial?” Stokra repeated. “I must protest at your use of words, Chancellor.”
“And until the investigation on the attempt on your life has concluded,” Amedda said, continuing as if he had not been interrupted, “any statements you make can only be taken as assumptions.”
“Balderdash!” Stokra spat. “A Jedi has been arrested! You call that an assumption?”
“Point of order,” Amedda warned, a dangerous tone coming into his voice, “the Jedi Order has its own jurisdiction that is quite outside the legislation of this body—”
“Which is why it must be brought under us!” Stokra interrupted. “How much longer will it be until there is another attempt on the life of a senator, I ask you?”
The Senate erupted again and this time there was nothing Dekau could do to curb the noise. Mas Amedda stood at the centre of it, his blue-skinned face looking awfully fragile. Stokra noticed this with glee, retreating his pod to its station with a triumphant smile.