Work Text:
“This was not the assignment!” Threepio shouted, flinging his arms about. Normally he would have more self-control, but, well. “This was the Chancellor of the Republic!”
Artoo’s insistent, smug beeping didn’t help soothe any of Threepio’s concern, even if his logic was almost sound. His argument of, “Padmé wanted me to protect Leia. Leia is in danger because the Chancellor is a Sith. I removed the obstacle,” was direct. Even if it was ridiculous.
“That’s treason, you bucket of bolts,” Threepio snapped, waving at the smoking body on the floor. “How are you protecting the Senator, or Leia for that matter, if you just go off on your own and make these random, glitchy decisions?”
Artoo asserted his logic tree was infallible several more times, indicating that it couldn’t be treason to kill a Sith, because being a Sith was outlawed. “Chancellor equals felon, felons cannot equal Chancellor of Republic. Sith threat equals kill on sight. Command executed under acceptable parameters. Not a violation of organic law.”
“Yes, but that has to be determined by a court,” Threepio stressed, jerking back with an “Oh my!” as the door slid open and two of the Coruscant Guard poked their heads in. And stopped at the sight in front of them. “I want it on the record, the official, valid record, that none of this was my idea.”
One of the Guards said, “Oh shit,” while the other removed his helmet and approached the body, requesting a medical team to come to the Chancellor’s office as quickly as possible.
“Target is terminated,” Artoo beeped. “Medical assistance is not required.”
“He says he’s sure the Chancellor is dead,” Threepio translated. “Which he would know because he did it.”
No-helmet guard looked at Artoo for a long moment before asking, “Aren’t you General Skywalker’s droid?”
“Technically he belongs to Senator Amidala’s office,” Threepio corrected. “Although I can assure you she had no idea he would take such action. The Senator is a very upstanding, law abiding member of the Republic, and—“
“You’re not hers?”
“Me? Oh no, I belong to Lady Shmi Skywalker. I was a gift from her son, General Skywalker. Although that was quite some time ago, before he was a Jedi even! Can you imagine?”
“And what happened?” No-helmet Guard asked as his companion placed himself in the middle of the doorway. Treating them both like common criminals!
“Artoo insists that the Chancellor is a Sith Lord! Can you believe it? I asked him how he came to such an erroneous conclusion, and he claimed he was left here after General Skywalker had a visit with the Chancellor, which upset him? Artoo can’t say why. He didn’t really understand the particulars of their conversation. But the Chancellor made a call, directly after, Artoo said, to Count Dooku of all people! And Artoo claims that Dooku referred to the Chancellor as his master. He says he overwrote the code that was failing to file the call in the appropriate database, and that he recorded what he was watching, for evidence. But I can’t say I know what that is about. I was sent by the Senator to find him so we could send him back to General Skywalker, but obviously they’re going to want to trace his memory and get everything sorted, and, oh dear, the Senator will not like this."
There wasn't much of a reaction from No-helmet. Just a request to Artoo to play any relevant footage. Which Artoo complied with immediately, and in Threepio's opinion, a bit eagerly.
The footage did indeed show the Chancellor at his desk with a fuzzy image on call. The sound quality was poor. Artoo wasn't meant to record things at distance. He was designed for repairs, not espionage. But whatever it was was enough to prompt No-helmet to make a request for slicers to come up as well. In the meantime, he started poking around at the Chancellor's corpse, gingerly moving charred fabric and asking how exactly Artoo had managed to cover the man in so much accelerant so quickly. Which, again, Artoo cheerfully obliged, forcing Threepio to translate a murder of all things. Cheerfully! It wasn't authentic translation if he removed Artoo's glee.
"Really, I don't see—“ Threepio was going to try and insist he at least be allowed to leave when No-helmet moved a piece of fabric and a smaller cylinder was revealed. "Oh, is that a light saber?" Threepio asked as the medical team arrived.
No-helmet turned it on to reveal that it was a blade of a color most humanoid organics would consider "red." "Oh my!"
"I think," No-helmet said calmly, "we're gonna need some Jedi in here."