Obey your master

You waste no time. Marching with an unfamiliar, yet comfortable and invigorating sense of purpose, you weave your way through the empty evening corridors of the Executive Building and out to the speeder on which you arrived, heavy rain pounding down on the landing pad and flowing violently over the towering city around. Climbing into your seat, you fire the repulsors, yawing and accelerating off to rendezvous with your troops.

Your haste is not fueled by glee; your task is grim and regrettable. Yet it is necessary. What you feel is the allure of the promise of relief. Soon, to be free of the Council's stranglehold. Soon, to have an end to this pointless war. Soon, to be reunited with Padme in love without shame, and soon to wrench from the **** the power to keep her.

As you reach the Temple Precinct, you see the 501st Legion marching deliberately toward the main boulevard. You guide the speeder to the berth of the Processional Way and vault yourself to its floor. As the Legion reaches your position, you address them without many words...