Mace Motherfucking Windu

“Anakin. Help me. Help Me! I-I can’t h-h-hold him much longer.” The emperor’s sunken eyes had lost their fire and filled with terror. Jedi Master Mace Windu stood over the treasonous chancellor, purple lightsaber in hand. Anakin rose his own sabre to meet Windu’s.


“I need him Master Windu. Padme’s life depends on it.”


The clashing of the force between the three men knocked them in separate directions. Palpatine, already weakened, was sent sprawling into his desk while Anakin and Mace Windu staggered backward.


“Master, did you feel that?” Anakin said, clutching his stomach.


Mace stood in a daze. He’d felt it too; like a knock on the head sending his consciousness reeling. Then he was back. Windu looked confused as he patted his head and looked down at his robes. He pulled and prodded as if to look for something, reaching into the folds near his chest.


“What in the fuck?” Windu muttered to himself.


“Master, are you okay?” Anakin said, righting himself.


“What did you just say motherfucker?”


“I said: are you okay, Master Windu?”  


Windu smiled. “That’s what I thought you said…. Master,” he soaked the word in. “Now, I could get used to that. Where are we? And what is this?” Windu held up his sheathed saber.


“Master, we’re in the Chancellor’s office and that’s your lightsaber.” Anakin said, slowly approaching Windu. “Do you not remember anything?”


“Huh,” Windu spun around. “No, I remember everything. Crazy motherfucker got Vincent. Marsellus too. Bout to get me too. Some kind of divine intervention.” The unconscious Palpatine caught his eye. “Who is that motherfucker?” He said, cocking an eyebrow.


“Chancellor Palpatine. You were about to kill him, when we were knocked backwards. Please don’t Master, I need him to unlock the full power of the force. He’s the only way to save Padme.” Anakin said, placing his own hand on his sabre.


Windu saw the threat. Shit, he thought, I’m the one who usually gives ‘em out. He kept his hands where Anakin could see them, and walked over to the crumpled Palpatine.


“Help me get him up,” He grunted at Anakin. “Let’s get him in this chair right here.”


Together, the two lifted the wrinkled man to his chair wherein he promptly slumped over. His hood fell back revealing his sunken leathery face and Windu recoiled.


“What the fuck. What is wrong with this motherfuckers face?”


“It was the force,” Anakin said, nearly in tears. “He’s weak.”


The two yelling jedi’s stirred the Chancellor. He turned in his chair and tried to get his bearings. His attacks on Windu had left him near death. Anakin saw the stirring and rejoiced, kneeling into the lap of Palpatine.


“What the hell is going on here?” Windu said, looming over the two. He started to get a bad feeling and placed his hand on his sabre.


“You were about to kill him, without a trial or justice.” Anakin said into the lap of the Chancellor.


“Did he deserve it?”




“Did. He. Deserve. It?” Windu said, placing his thumb on the button of his sabre.


Anakin tensed up. Under the folds of his robes, he reached for his own sabre. “Master, what are you getting at?”


“Say ‘what’ again motherfucker. I dare you.”


Anakin rose without warning, sabre drawn. He was caught with the back of Windu’s left hand. Anakin tasted blood and then nothing. Windu’s sabre cut through the flesh of the young jedi’s neck. Palpatine writhed in terror and screamed.


“You will pay for this Windu,” Palpatine croaked. “You will pay dearly.”
Windu brought the tip of his sabre to the Chancellor’s neck “Allow me a retort. Have you ever heard Ezekiel 25:17?”


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