Tenth Month, 969 ARR (31 BBY)
Anakin
“Again,” his new Master snarled as Anakin hit the ground for the third time that evening.
Such had been his routine for the past few months. So far, Sidious had taught him precious little of any Force techniques save for some basics in how to shield, meditate, and draw strength from the dark side, strength from pain and hardship. According to him, Anakin did not have the hardened grit necessary for proper Sith training yet, and that is what they were working to correct.
Every day he would continue his lessons with his tutors in the Presidential Palace or at Palpatine’s private apartment in 500 Republica, and then during the evenings or the nights, whenever they could excuse themselves from the watchful gazes of aides and politicians, they would venture to his Master’s secret base in the Works using the underground tunnels connecting 500 Republica to the LiMerge Building.
There he would run ceaseless obstacle courses under the judging eyes of his Master. Tiring himself through intense physical activity until he dropped to the floor from exhaustion, all the while being harassed by droids with blasters on non-lethal settings or electric prods.
Every time Anakin got hit, every time he fell to the ground, his Master would taunt and berate him for his weakness before slinking back into the shadows when he inevitably rose to his feet in rage and spite. The taunts were always meant to cut, to sting.
“This is why your mother is dead. This is why you failed to save her or the people of Naboo! Because you are weak!”
“Had you been just a little stronger, a little more ruthless. Perhaps things could have been different. But you were a failure. Will you let yourself continue to be one?
“If you had won that first podrace, if you hadn’t crashed, perhaps you could have won enough money to free yourself and your mother sooner. But you weren’t strong enough.”
Even now, just the memory of them filled his spirit with anger, both at himself for his own weakness and at his Master for saying them.
Yet even as Anakin hated how harsh his words were, he knew that his Master was only living up to his promise to make him strong, to teach him how to break his chains. Outside of his training, he continued to treat him as he always did for the most part, but in those dark nights in the Works he showed him a different face, just as he had warned him all those months ago on the hyperspace trip back to Coruscant after he had killed Watto.
His Master had taught him how to shield on that flight, how to hide his dark presence from the Jedi, and strengthened his shields with his own cloak until the day Anakin would be strong and skilled enough to do it on his own. Then he had spoken of their training, of what Anakin would need to be prepared to endure.
“The path of the Sith is not for the weak or indecisive, Vader. Tell me what you regard as your greatest strength, so I will know how best to undermine you; tell me of your greatest fear, so I will know which I must force you to face; tell me what you cherish most, so I will know what to take from you; and tell me what you crave, so that I might deny you. And when the dust has settled, you will have been forged anew like tempered durasteel. Like a rod of unbreakable phrik, all foes and struggles shall break upon you like water upon rock!”
Anakin growled at the memory as he rose to his feet, determined not to hear yet another cutting remark or taunt today. He would be better! He would prove himself worthy of the power his Master offered!
Restarting the cycle for the fourth time, he ran into the arena, deftly dodging every single blow, every stun bolt from the droids. He expertly climbed every moving obstacle, jumped over every chasm in his path, summited every bristling watchtower. He had run this Force-forsaken course so many times he had begun to memorize the very algorithm it used to bring him down.
A feeling of hope and disbelief began to fill him then. He might actually manage to beat this damnable course today!
Just as his spirit surged however, he could feel an invisible grip pulling at his legs, slowing him down long enough for the droids to catch up to him.
A mocking laugh echoed from the room’s speakers. “Impressive failures are failures, nonetheless. Again, apprentice,” Sidious said.
A sharp pain jabbed at his senses then as he felt a sharp prod into both his legs followed by an electric charge that stunned him into unconsciousness.
When he finally came to, he was right back at the start of the course. His whole body was sore but his legs were particularly numbed by the volts of electricity that had coursed through them just minutes earlier. He struggled to get to his feet before falling to the ground again, groaning in pain.
A clucking tongue distracted him from his pain and he realized he was not alone. He looked up. His Master stood imposingly before him, a look of disappointment on his face.
“Memorization is not mastery, Vader. You will not survive by memorizing the attacks of your foes. I have reset the algorithm. And I will do so every day, changing the format and arrangement of the course, and even the numbers and capabilities of the droids. You will surpass this test not because you have memorized it, but because you have mastered yourself and the Force as your servant. Now run the course, again.”
Anakin scowled as he tried to rise to his feet again but his numb legs and sore body simply refused to obey him. He was barely able to get himself up on his knees, unable to stand out of sheer exhaustion. He was tired, not just physically but mentally. The blow to his pride and morale had been great indeed. Coming so close only to be denied victory was more disheartening than he had ever thought it could be.
Sidious was never one to take no for an answer, however. “Are you refusing to rise? Or are you unable? Don’t tell me the pain is too much? The shame of defeat too great to bear? What happened to that greatness on Tatooine? The rage, the fury, the determination? You disappoint me, Vader,” he snarled.
Anakin never even saw him lift his fingers before he felt the current of lightning arcing through his body. It was a thousand times worse than the electric prods and stuns of the droids and yet Anakin knew it was only a fraction of what it could be. It came in repeated jolts, enough to agonize but not enough to incapacitate or cripple.
He screamed in anguish, twisting and squirming as his body instinctively and desperately tried to escape. But there was no escape.
“Mercy, Master! Please!” he begged.
“There is no mercy,” his Master said before he fired off one last jolt of agonizing lighting.
Anakin was sobbing on the ground when his Master finally relented. He came to him and tended to him almost lovingly, like how he might have before he had revealed his true self.
“I warned you,” he said, his voice almost sympathetic. “I told you what it would take, what the price would be. Still you agreed, still you chose this willingly. Power does not come cheaply, Vader. If you wish to be strong, there can be no mercy.
"I have made you hurt dearly, my boy. And I will continue to do so. I will make you cry out ‘no more,’ to be spared any more pain, to let you be, let you crawl into the corner like a wounded and broken slave just as Watto and all the others tried to make you. But I will not stop, because only through pain will you free yourself, only through suffering will you break your chains. I offer you freedom; you need only take it. Now get up and face me as something more than a slave, my apprentice."
Determination and rage filled his soul. Like fuel for a fire. The first flickers of hatred burned as he forced his agonizingly weak body to obey his will, forcing it to move through the pain, using the pain, for strength and power as he twitched and pulled himself back up to his feet.
His Master almost looked impressed. “You may rest for the day. Nurse your wounds. Soothe your wounded pride. Tomorrow, you will run the course again. And you will fail. Again and again, until the day comes that you do not.”
“And what happens then?” Anakin asked.
At that, Sidious smirked. “You will have proven yourself ready for the next step in your training,” he said before walking away. Back into the shadows.
Anakin grimaced as he limped to the infirmary. C-3PO was waiting for him.
“Oh, Master Ani! You look dreadful! Please, do not overexert yourself! I will see to all that you need!” the frantic droid hemmed and hawed.
Anakin was hardly in the mood for his fussing. He waved off the fastidious and worrisome droid as he tended to his own wounds.
Instinct, the scraps of knowledge and training his Master had provided, and the sheer need for survival after each day of brutal training had taught him well enough. He pulled on the Force, soaking in the raw energy of the dark side to soothe his wounds ever so slightly and speed up his body’s recovery, to give him the strength and will to ignore the pain as it did so, doing his best not to wince just as he had been taught.
He couldn’t stop himself from grimacing though as C-3PO tripped on a tray his anxious fingers had dropped and fell over onto the floor. He would have to remember to reprogram and modify Threepio one of these days. As the Chancellor’s adopted son, he had full access to all the resources one could possibly imagine for droid parts.
Perhaps he could finish his droid plating with a full gold set and modify it to conceal compartments of weapons and poisons while otherwise looking like any other protocol droid. According to Sidious, Anakin’s predecessor as Sith Apprentice had made similar modifications to his own droid, C-3PX, and he saw no reason not to follow suit.
Certainly, Threepio needed his personality modified at the very least. Anakin could not have such a jittery and nervous droid! One that did not know how to keep his mouth shut and ensure confidential things remained secret.
It still stung that this droid was all that he had left of his mother. Anakin had created him to help her, to protect her, and he had failed. They both had. And that was why they had to make up for their weakness.
He would recommit himself back to his training, Anakin decided. Push himself through the pain and anguish until he finally conquered that course. When that was done, he would modify and reprogram C-3PO into a proper assassin and soldier droid, one that could blend in at diplomatic events with a falsely polite personality and standard Cybot Galactica droid look and then turn into a war machine at a moment’s notice.
Anakin would make sure that both of them had the strength to protect the people important to them in the future. He swore it.
With that new renewed promise in mind, he continued his routine. Using the Force to give him strength and reduce the need for sleep so he had more hours in a day with which to work.
He continued diligently with his public and ‘normal’ lessons with his tutors and whenever he had free time, he continued his studies of the Sith, committing to heart the Sith Code, philosophies, histories, and examples of past, great Sith. Just as his Master had instructed, he did not simply memorize this knowledge but instead pondered what it all meant, working to internalize his understandings to give himself focus, drawing inspiration from the greatness of past Sith and their struggles to give himself passion and drive.
During the nights and evenings, he continued running the course. Just as his Master had promised, the algorithms, the setup, the number of droids and obstacles, it all changed daily. Anakin learned how to dodge or weather every blow, how to climb every obstacle, jump every shifting chasm, and storm every stronghold in the course. Not because he had memorized the patterns, but because he had become stronger and swifter than ever before. Because he had the Force and he wielded it to sense all that was going to happen before it did.
And just as his Master had said, Anakin continued to fail. Over and over again. For two whole weeks he continued to endure those biting remarks and the punishing storm of exhaustion, injuries, and electric stuns.
Until one day, he didn’t. He passed through the entire course and made it to the other end. Not unscathed, but still on his feet. Still able to fight and move.
Anakin looked around almost in disbelief. He felt proud. He felt strong.
He turned around as he heard his Master’s slow claps. There was a dark smile on Sidious’ face that Anakin convinced himself was his way of showing pride and congratulations.
"Well done. I see you have finally refused to surrender to weakness for another day, my apprentice. Come. I sense your hunger for more and I shall give you what you want."
Eagerly, Anakin followed him, excited to finally begin the next stage of his training.
If only he had known then, just how much he would regret that excitement.
__________________________________
Mygeeto was cold. Colder than anything Anakin had ever felt before. Colder than Padmé’s spaceship, colder than the feeling of death at Naboo or the wrath in his heart when he had killed Watto. This was the kind of cold that burrowed so deep into your bones it felt like it would never leave and against all that frigidity, he, a boy raised on a desert planet, had nothing but a thin enviro-suit to shield him against the elements.
Anakin stood shivering upon a scree slope of swirling snow and jagged stones, near pinnacles of icy teeth and a sheer incline. Right beyond that drop was a frigid crystal-blue lake, as beautiful as it was deadly. He didn’t even want to imagine what being in that lake would feel like right now.
He struggled to remain standing, his legs shivering so violently they shook the rocks beneath him loose as he fell to the ground, bruising and cutting his hands as he held on desperately clinging to ice, stone, and whatever else he could. Anything he could to avoid that lake.
Something deep in his heart told him that his Master would not save him if he fell into that lake.
He looked up. Sidious stood a few meters above him upon a flat outcropping, wearing nothing but his usual red Sith robes and cloak. Yet he seemed completely unfazed by the cold, and the blizzard seemed to yield to his will; flakes of snow and ice fell and shifted gently around him yet never once did they land upon his cloth. Each and every single one melted before they could.
There was a strangely reminiscent look in his eyes. Something akin to nostalgia or wistfulness even perhaps as he looked around into the distance, surveying all the far-off snowcaps atop the mountains and the furthest shores of the lake.
Anakin could barely hear his soft words over the howling, glacial wind when he finally spoke.
“Terrible place, isn’t it? Compared to lush Naboo or controlled Coruscant, Mygeeto is ruthless and uncompromising. Just as you must learn to be, my young apprentice. You were raised on the desert world of Tatooine, and so I have brought you here to this cold hell. Had you been raised instead on Mon Calamari, perhaps I would have brought you from there to Tatooine, and had you been an aquatic species, I would have stranded you on a mountain. I would have done whatever was required to force you into this state, force you to truly internalize these lessons simply to survive.
“The point is simple. The Sith and the Jedi are much less different than both would like to believe. The divide has little to do with the simple difference between darkness or light, or the chasm of divergence between distress and comfort, entropy and predictability, or in your case, between the freezing cold and the warmth of shelter.”
Sidious looked down at Vader almost eagerly, like a predator eyeing its prey. “The difference, my friend, lies in the very nature of the darkness. It is not the light. It is not the gentle helpful Force that the Jedi rely upon. They believe the Force is their ally. You must know it as your servant. And a rebellious one at that.
“Soon, your blood will freeze. Not much longer now, and you will be certain of death. That is what you will think at the darkest moments. When the dark side has sniffed your scent and pinned you down like a nexu stalking upon you. You will think to yourself: Surely, I will die. The dark side will kill me.
“It is true. You will die. In fact, you must. Everything you once were, everything you could have been, you sacrifice all of it to be reborn as something more. That is why we take a new name. That is why the truth of you, now and forevermore, can no longer be Anakin Skywalker but instead Darth Vader.
“You must take this knowledge into yourself. Embed it as deeply as the cold of the blizzard freezing your blood and rattling your bones. If you do not, the shadow will swallow you whole. Ever does the dark side seek to challenge us, strive to break free of us. The Force is not our ally, Vader. Nor can we tolerate serving its will like the Jedi. We must break it to our design, stalk it like hunters. You must be as the nexu yourself, not fall as prey to one.”
Sidious chuckled to himself then, as if remembering some old joke. “I even sound like him,” he said before turning his gaze back to Anakin.
“You took your first step into the darkness in that junk shop on Tatooine. On Coruscant, you completed the next step of your training when you finished that course. You have proven that you have the grit for what comes next. Now prepare yourself for the feeling that awaits when you delve into the darkness. It is a comingling of fear and joy; a humbling empowerment, an escalation to special privilege even as you are used as a mere instrument of a greater shadow.
“Tell me again, Vader. And in greater detail this time. Tell me how it felt as Naboo burned. Tell me how it felt when you learnt of your mother’s death. Enlighten me about how your slave master whipped and berated you, what you felt as you squeezed the life out of him.
With no other hope for succor, Anakin told him. He relived the worst memories of his life. The horrible, squirming feeling of death above Naboo and the horror of watching millions die. The shame and humiliation he had felt his whole childhood as a slave. The pit of despair and grief when he realized his mother was dead, and the rush of power and cold rage when he had destroyed her murderer and become one himself.
He could feel it all like it was yesterday. See the surface of Naboo glowing red beneath the hail of turbolaser bombardment, hear Watto’s neck breaking beneath his telekinetic grip. Yet the more he told the stories, the more distant they felt. As if they had happened a lifetime ago instead of mere months. He had gained authority over them, the ability to see them merely as they were, without emotion, horror, guilt, or judgement. As if someone else had witnessed and done all those things, not him.
Anakin pulled apart his emotions. He dissected them, reassembled them, and pulled them apart all over again. Again, and again until he realized something. A transformation had come upon him. As dark as the space between galaxies, a power born of hatred, anger, and fear curled within his being that he could now draw upon at will.
“Very good,” Sidious praised. “I can sense your power growing. You have found it within yourself. Here in this pitiless place, it has been forged. Now ensure you never forget it. Imagine a high place within you, a place as briskly clean as the ice on that mountain, cool and remote. Once you have found it, look down. Breathe in the cold air as you enshrine all your guilt and shame, all your rage and fear. Do not deny them; observe them. Take them into your hands. Examine them like an artifact at a museum. Smell them, taste them. Come to know them as only you can, for they are yours, and they are precious.”
As his Master spoke, Anakin listened. He imagined placing all of his dark thoughts and emotions upon a great cold mountain. Observing them, drawing from them, yet remaining far from them all the same. The state of mind he had developed earlier now crystallized into something permanent, a framework that he could use going forward.
His emotions burned with more strength than ever, but they no longer clouded his mind. The rage he felt against the slavers and scum that had tormented him and bombarded Naboo, the guilt and grief that had consumed him since he had learnt his mother was dead, it was no longer overpowering but instead strengthening.
“I can feel you there, my apprentice. That cold distance, that mountaintop within yourself, it is the first key to the power of the Sith. It is what separates us from any other pretenders that claim to know the dark side. We Sith do not make excuses for our actions. We do not claim the dark side compelled us to do anything or that we somehow fell to it like a Jedi who has come to use anger or hatred might. All our choices begin from our own self and flow outward.
“You must internalize this lesson, make it the bedrock of your being. I can’t have your will tempered by feelings of regret or compassion. You were brought into being to lead. Therefore, you must see every living thing as nothing more than a tool to elevate you, to move you to your destined place. This is our galaxy, Vader, our reality.”
“I understand, Master,” Anakin choked out, his words more of a stutter than a sentence, his lips turning blue and trembling.
Sidious smiled at him sinisterly. “Do you really? Or are you just saying anything you can to make the pain end?”
Faster than Anakin’s eyes could see, Sidious tore open his enviro-suit before returning to where he stood on the outcropping. The cold rushed in to touch his skin, even worse than before. Anakin started hyperventilating as his body went into shock.
“I am your torturer, Vader. Soon you will do all you can to appease me in the hope that I might provide some small relief. So appease me. Tell me again how it felt.”
And so, Anakin did. He relived his worst memories, over and over again. Each time he did, that shrine on the cold mountain within him grew larger and stronger, even as the cold bit at his body. Yet he did not die. The dark side had claimed its prize, and it infused his body and spirit with enough energy to endure though it gave him no peace or comfort. Peace was a lie after all.
As his Master laughed and taunted him, leaving him to freeze and suffer in the cold, Anakin realized that it had all been a lie. Or at least he didn’t care anymore if it was or wasn’t. Whatever his Master had said or claimed about making him suffer to make him strong, whether he was telling the truth or whether he simply wanted to torture him for his own sadistic pleasure like he was a Hutt, Anakin did not know.
What he did know is that he had never felt this kind of rage and fury before, this kind of hatred. Not for the Trade Federation that had bombarded Naboo, not for Watto who had killed his mother, or even the Hutts who had sold them both into slavery. He wanted him dead. He wanted to kill Sidious with his own hands, just as he had killed Watto! He wanted him to pay for all his tricks and lies! For promising him power, vengeance, and freedom, only to chain him and trap him on this frozen hellhole after depriving him of sleep, food, and water for weeks!
Deftly, Anakin crawled up the scree slope. His hands and knees moving carefully, anxious to avoid making the debris slip. It had happened so many times already, each time bringing him closer and closer to that frigid lake and forcing him to perilously make his way back up to the top, bruising and injuring himself against the cold hard rocks. If he could only reach Sidious, he might slake his thirst on his blood, sate his hunger with his flesh, heal his bruises with his power, and sleep warmly in his cloak. Slowly and surely, he climbed, but his efforts did not go unnoticed.
“Good,” Sidious rasped. “You want to kill me. I can feel it. Very good. It is something all true Sith must aspire to. Use that feeling. Take that hatred and rage you feel for me and transform it into power, the power to break your chains and destroy anyone or anything that would dare to stand in your way. But until the day you have learned how to master this power, that desire of yours will be nothing more than a dream. Don’t believe me? Very well. You want to strangle the life out of me as you did the Toydarian? Do it if you can.”
Bending the Force to his will and whim just as he had been instructed, Anakin leapt from where he was up onto the outcropping in an instant, his hands aiming to strangle Sidious where he stood. Yet instead of wrapping around his pale neck, they clasped straight into each other through thin air, leaving Anakin to fall to the outcropping and groan as he landed.
Sidious laughed off to the side and Anakin mustered his strength again, lunging for him only to be forced straight to his knees by his awesome power. His grip in the Force was so strong Anakin could scarcely move from where his body was pressed into the frozen ground.
“You still have much to learn, my young apprentice,” he said, shaking his head in amusement.
“How much more, Master?” Anakin asked with a hoarse voice.
“A decade’s worth at least. Just in time for the final stages of the Grand Plan.”
__________________________________
Eleventh Month, 969 ARR (31 BBY)
Padmé
Padmé didn’t know she could still feel like this. She had thought the Bombardment had taken it all from her. Hollowed her out and made her empty inside. She had been only half right. It had stripped away almost everything from her, love, peace, happiness, and contentment, and left her with only one thing. Rage.
And right now, that rage was boiling greater than ever before.
She barged straight into Palpatine’s private office beneath the Senate Chamber, and the Senate Guard did not dare to stop her. Perhaps the rumors flying around about their incompetence and the creation of a new ‘Red Guard’ for the Chancellor were warranted after all but Padmé could honestly care less about that right now.
Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was sitting at his desk when she marched into his office. Padmé knew that she should be deferential, but a part of her was still too used to him being her Senator and subordinate to bother with such etiquette. Especially not today.
“Why has the criminal case against the Trade Federation been dismissed?” she demanded.
Palpatine raised his hands placatingly. “I understand your anger, Your Majesty, but could I beseech you to be quieter? We are right beneath the Senate Chamber! We do not know who could be listening in on us!”
“Let them all hear it for all I care! I am the Queen of Naboo. You are the Chancellor of this Republic. What can they do to either of us? Especially in a matter as insulting and dire as this. Are you that eager to avoid this conversation? Shall we perchance relocate to the Presidential Palace to continue this conversation? Your private suite in 500 Republica? Dare I even say we wait until that expensive new Executive Building you’ve commissioned is completed?”
Palpatine sighed. “I have done my best, Your Majesty. Gunray has been found guilty of crimes against civilization by both the Supreme Court and the Galactic Senate. He has already been sentenced to death and his execution will be carried out shortly. Has justice not been done?”
“Gunray might have given the order but he was merely the head of the snake,” Padmé snarled. “What of the rest of the Federation who funded it? The Board of Directors who approved the invasion? Senator Lott Dod who perjured and mislead the public and the Senate for months? Or even Rune Haako?? Gunray’s own right-hand man who is now Viceroy of the Trade Federation!
“No, Your Excellency. Justice has not been done. Gunray was merely a convenient scapegoat to take the fall for the Trade Federation at large and the Senate, the courts, and even the public were all too happy to go along with it. Mindless sheep all of them, easily sated by scraps!
“Do you know how many of our people lie dead on Naboo, Chancellor? How many fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, and children have been lost?” Padmé’s voice almost broke as she spoke. Even now the loss still hurt and speaking of it felt like scratching raw open a wound that had barely even begun to scab over.
Her mother, her father, her sister, Sola, her relatives, her friends, even her childhood rivals. All gone. She would never see any of them again. Never laugh or be comforted by them. Never even be taunted or teased. She had been hollowed out and all that was left was a shell.
There was a solemn look on Palpatine’s face. “Yes. They haunt my dreams even now.”
“Not as much as they haunt mine. You weren’t there, Chancellor. I was. I watched it happen. I felt it happen. Fifty-seven million, three hundred and twenty-seven thousand, nine-hundred and sixty-one people. Just six digits scarred into my very soul. Six digits I will never forget. Six digits who died over the course of the invasion, the occupation, and the bombardment. Six digits I failed to protect. Six digits whose memory you are failing as Chancellor even now,” Padmé rebuked.
“I have done all I can, Your Majesty,” Palpatine made to say more but Padmé interrupted him.
“What use are you then? For what reason did we get you elected as Chancellor? You are as useless as Valorum was! And all the more shame on you for a son of Naboo to fail so greatly when his people need him!”
It took everything Padmé had to seem like a queen possessed of righteous anger instead of a hysterical child. She would not let Palpatine or anyone else see her weak. She would not falter or breakdown here! That vulnerability she restricted solely to the privacy of her own rooms, where no one, not even her handmaidens, could see her cry.
“Your Majesty!” For the first time in their entire conversation, Palpatine raised his voice and Padmé straightened where she stood.
She would not apologize, but she did take the time to recollect her composure.
Palpatine continued his speaking. “The position of Chancellor is not that of dictator, Your Majesty. The Constitution limits what I can do but I promise you I am doing all that is within my power to see justice done. Gunray will die. That has already been decided. And we can appeal the dismissal of the criminal charges against the Federation at large as many times as it takes. A dozen civil lawsuits against them have already made their way to the Supreme Court and they are voting in our favor.
“We will have our reparations. Billions of credits and assets to rebuild Naboo and restore our people. Full control over our own plasma trade that the Federation had stolen from us for so long. Our people need you now more than ever. Gungans and Naboo alike, they look to you for leadership. You must guide them in this dark time. You must lead them to greatness and ensure Naboo is strong, stronger than ever. Give us time and a powerbase from which we can apply greater and greater pressure on the powers that be.”
“And Rune Haako? Lott Dod and all the others? When will Naboo have the satisfaction of seeing them all on the electric chair or behind bars?” Padmé pressed.
“You know as well as I that the wheels of democracy turn slowly. Especially when corruption is involved. The Trade Federation’s insidious influence goes deep. Their dominance of the trade lanes in the Outer Rim gives them a stranglehold. There are far too many Senators or judges who think they are too essential for the economy and security of the Republic, and even more whose personal pockets are far too connected to their success either directly or indirectly. The Chancellor’s power has been greatly limited since the Ruusan Reformations. If I am to act any more directly, it will require bending if not outright breaking the Constitution in order to achieve what we want.”
Padmé turned her gaze away, unwilling to meet her once mentor’s eyes, afraid of how he would react to her words. “Maybe the Constitution should be broken then. Maybe change needs to happen, by whatever means necessary. It has become increasingly clear to me that the Republic’s systems are broken. If all those Senators or judges do not see the importance of punishing the Trade Federation…. than perhaps they should be made to. And if they still will not, they should be removed and replaced by those who will.”
Palpatine’s voice was measured and wary. “That doesn’t sound very democratic.”
“It’s not,” Padmé admitted. Part of her still couldn’t believe that she had turned so far from everything her family and people had taught her. Everything she had believed for so many years. Yet a greater part couldn’t help but think all of those beliefs had been the foolish dreams of a naïve girl. Dreams that had died the day Naboo had been bombarded.
“Recent events have had me lose faith in everything we were taught growing up. Liberalism, democracy, pacifism; they did not save Naboo from the Trade Federation’s turbolasers. The Republic’s democratic values have failed us. Worse yet, they have been perverted and twisted into a weapon against those they are supposed to serve and protect. And so have Naboo’s own beliefs.
“I know my predecessor, King Veruna, was not at all a man I should agree with. Yet in so many things he was right. He was so criticized for commissioning our N-1 starfighters, for wanting to make Naboo a strong military power that could stand up to the Trade Federation. I can’t help but wonder what might have happened if we hadn’t opposed him so staunchly for daring to make a stand, to break with our pacifist beliefs and spend our credits defending our people. Would the Bombardment still have happened, I ask myself sometimes, if Veruna had still been King?”
Palpatine shook his head. “You mustn’t think this way, Your Majesty. I served Veruna as Senator for many years, trust me on this. The man was corrupt to the core and not at all an individual that could have led Naboo through the crisis as ably as you have. Even a broken clock can be right twice a day and Veruna being right about the need to stand up to the Trade Federation does not mean things would have been better if he was still King.
“You are right about one thing, however. I cannot say as much publicly, but my own faith in democracy has been shaken. The system is corrupt and rotten to the core, far beyond even what I told you before the Bombardment, far beyond anything I ever thought possible. Reform is sorely needed, for both the Republic and Naboo,” Palpatine said.
Intrigued, Padmé turned back to the Chancellor, finally making eye contact with him again. “What do you have in mind?”
Palpatine looked cautious then, almost conspiratorial as he leaned in to whisper. “The recent tragedy on our homeworld has highlighted the critical importance of security and stronger centralized galactic governance. I have been building a faction of likeminded politicians, judges, elites, and Judicial Forces officers with the aim of undoing many of the Ruusan Reformations, especially the limitations on the power of the Chancellor and the armaments of militaries. The day may yet come when the Republic has a federal military again, one that could be used to protect the Outer Rim from the depredations of slaver scum and corrupt corporations like the Trade Federation.”
“The Senate will not give up its power easily. The current system benefits them too much,” Padmé warned.
“Which is why we may have to resort to extraordinary means to save the Republic from itself. Means you yourself described. If the Senators cannot look past their own greed to act for the greater good, then they must either be forced to or replaced by those who share the same vision as us. The great visionaries and reformers of history have always had to stain their hands with such dirty politics to bring about true lasting change and it is the great tragedy of our time that this task has fallen to us.
“Yet if not us, then who? Who better than Naboo can see the corruption in the Republic? The failures in the system? The need for change? Help me, Your Majesty, I beg you. Let us together make sure that there will never be another Bombardment. That the Trade Federation and all other corrupt villains who prey on the good and innocent are brought to justice, and the dead of Naboo are finally avenged.”
Padmé looked the Chancellor right in the eyes, her decision made already. “What do you need me to do?”
Palpatine smiled. “The reforms I propose will take years to materialize, not months. In the meantime, while we continue to build our alliance and gather more trustworthy partners, we must strike where we can while the iron is still hot. While we still have the fading sympathies of the public, we must squeeze the Federation dry. Give up on the criminal cases their corrupt friends in the Senate are protecting them from. We will instead bury them until they drown in lawsuits, until we wring them dry for every last credit we can and use it to rebuild Naboo’s economy and expand our military as much as possible.
“The great powers of the Core Worlds, Alderaan, Alsakan, Chandrila, Corellia, Duro, and the rest, they are among those that will most fiercely oppose our goals. They have grown too comfortable with the Republic’s stagnation and the powers and privileges they enjoy with a weak Supreme Chancellor and an overmighty Senate. In order to challenge them, to influence them, to bring any of them to our side and compel the rest to submit to our vision, Naboo must acquire at least a fraction of the strength they have.
“That is where you come in, Your Majesty. As Supreme Chancellor, I can funnel advantageous contracts, technologies, funding, and the like to you, and so long as I do not go too far, none will look askance at me for it. Naboo has been devastated after all, and anyone who opposes helping it rebuild will be crucified by the public.
“You are the one, however, that must take everything I funnel to you and use it to rebuild our homeworld. Build the infrastructure and corporate strength we need to export and sell our own plasma. Rebuild our shattered cities, grow and diversify our economy. Expand Veruna’s starfighter corps into a true military that will defend our people and help us to project power over the rest of the Chommell Sector until we dominate it as thoroughly as the great Core Worlds dominate their own home sectors. Only then will we have the strength to stand as a true player in the Senate and meaningfully push for change.”
Padmé couldn’t lie to herself. Everything Palpatine said appealed to the person she was right now. It was also everything that would have appalled the person she was before the Bombardment. The person many on Naboo still were despite all they had suffered. The Naboo were traditional, and even now many still foolishly clung to old beliefs.
“I see your vision, Chancellor. But there are many on Naboo that won’t. Many of our people still cling to the old ways that led us to this mess in the first place. I know this all too well. I was one of them myself, right up until the bombardment, and I will never stop regretting it.”
“You said it yourself, Your Majesty. You know how these people should be dealt with,” Palpatine said pointedly. She saw if for the challenge it was. He was questioning if she had the will to see it done. To act instead of just speak.
Padmé nodded slowly. “I did, didn’t I? Perhaps I shall strive to make myself a hereditary Queen too, as that old clause in our constitution still allows. I might just have the popularity for it if I play my cards right, and it would be the best way to ensure I will have no successor that undoes all our hard work on Naboo.”
“We have a pact then, Your Majesty,” Palpatine said.
“Yes,” Padme answered firmly. There was no hesitation. “I will do my part on Naboo. And in return, I expect you to do so here as well, Chancellor.”
“Rest assured, Your Majesty. I will see it done.”
There was a glint of determination in his eyes that made her believe him.
“On another matter, have you had any time to speak with Anakin lately?” Palpatine asked. “The boy misses you dearly. He still cherishes your friendship. I think he will be very happy to see you, if I may be so bold, Your Majesty. You share even more in common now. I’m sorry to say that Anakin and I found his mother dead when we went to free her a few months ago. Her slave master had killed her. Wretched little thing. It was barbaric how he did it, blowing her up simply for trying to escape.”
Padmé couldn’t believe it. Shmi, dead? And in such a horrible way too? That kind old lady who taken them into her home and offered them her hospitality even when she had so little to give? Padmé’s heart broke all over again for Anakin. She knew all too well the pain of losing a mother and that pain was on top of the already hard life he had endured as a slave.
Guilt crept into her then. She had promised him that they would stay in contact when he had left Naboo with Palpatine but in the haze of her grief and rage and all the many things that had needed to be done on Naboo after the Bombardment, she hadn’t spoken to him even once since. Not even a single call. She was a terrible friend.
“You are right, Chancellor. I will see him as soon as possible.”
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About an hour later, Padmé made her way up to Palpatine’s suite in 500 Republica. The Chancellor had told her that he and Anakin were staying there for the day and it was convenient enough for her to visit since her own accommodations on Coruscant were in the same building.
With credentials from the Chancellor, she easily passed through all the security and entered the suite itself very quickly.
Anakin was sitting alone on the couch, engrossed in whatever he was reading on his datapad. He turned at the sound of the door opening and his studious and focused expression immediately shifted into one of pure joy.
“Padmé! You’re here!” he said excitedly as he ran up to her. “And you brought Artoo with you too!”
The little blue astromech beeped and whistled in Binary but Padmé could have sworn it was saying it was excited to see Anakin too.
Padmé couldn’t help but smile. “I thought the two of you might like to see each other again. And I’m very happy to see you too Anakin. I hear your birthday just passed recently as well. Happy belated birthday! Eleven already! How time flies.”
Anakin nodded proudly. “That’s right. I’m all big and strong now.”
Padmé looked at him amusedly. He hadn’t grown that much taller in the year since she had last seen him but perhaps there was some truth to what he was saying. She could see the muscles developing on his lean figure. Whatever exercises and food the Chancellor had arranged for Anakin was clearly doing wonders for the former slave boy she had once feared to be malnourished and small.
More than just that however, something had changed about Anakin’s demeanor. The way he carried himself was different. His haircut had changed, his expressions were more worn, and there was a certain jaded weariness in his eyes that hadn’t been there when she had seen him last. And she suspected that she knew all too well why it was there.
If Anakin noticed her troubled thoughts, however, he did not bring it up. Instead, he eagerly told her of everything he had been doing, all of his studies and training with the best tutors in the Republic under Palpatine’s care as he worked to catch up on everything he hadn’t been able to learn as a slave.
It turned out he was quite the prodigy. Already zooming past all the high school syllabuses. It wouldn’t be long now according to his tutors, before he might even be able to enroll into the best universities and academies on Coruscant.
She was happy for him. She found some small amount of joy that after everything both of them had suffered, Anakin was doing well for himself here on Coruscant under Palpatine’s care, with his every need looked after. It was the least he deserved after everything he had been through, everything he had done for her and her people.
When she told him as such, however, a dark expression crossed his face, before it vanished. It had lasted long enough for her to take notice, however. It reminded her of the expression a wounded animal might have as licked its wounds in a dark corner. A look full of rage, anger, hatred, and grief.
She knew that look all too well. After all, she saw it every time she looked in the mirror.
A cold chill spread all over her skin then. As if she had been immersed in ice water and was only now drying off. She looked around wondering if the apartment’s air chillers had been suddenly turned on but they hadn’t been and when she looked back at Anakin, the chill was gone. As if it had never existed at all.
“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked her.
Padmé didn’t know. What had that strange feeling been? She decided to put it aside for now. She had something much more important to say.
“Nothing,” she said in reply to his question. “Just… are you happy, Anakin?”
The same expression from earlier returned briefly, flickering across Anakin’s face so fast she could barely catch it before he put on a smile she was strongly starting to suspect was as fake as her own was these days.
“I am. What’s not to be happy about? Being Chancellor Palpatine’s adopted son has given me more food and comforts than I could imagine! I’m enjoying life on fancy Coruscant after all the sand and dredge of Tatooine. And most of all, you’re still wearing the japor snippet I gave you! That’s amazing. I’m really glad to see it.”
Padmé looked down at her neck. She was. She hadn’t even realized. Somehow, subconsciously, she had taken to wearing it as routine in the months since the Bombardment. It had brought her comfort, reminding her of better times.
She could tell Anakin’s feelings about her wearing the japor necklace were genuine but nothing else really was. And she had a strong suspicion as to why but she wanted, no she needed him to tell her. It was the only way she would be able to help him as he so very much deserved.
“Ani, I know about your mother. Palpatine told me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t even think to do anything to help her, or even to call and ask how you’ve been all this time. I’m such a bad friend. I’m so sorry,” Padmé apologized and she couldn’t help herself as the tears began falling.
It was strange. She had refused to cry in front of Palpatine or anyone else ever since her family had died in the Bombardment. She had felt like she needed to be strong, to not show weakness. Yet in front of Anakin, she felt like it was alright to be vulnerable. To show just how not okay she really was deep inside.
Anakin stepped up to her, and to her surprise, he started wiping away her tears and licking them.
Padmé couldn’t help but break her sobs in confusion with a slight, nervous laugh. “What are you doing?”
Anakin jolted in surprise, as if he had moved instinctively. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just habit, I guess. We were always taught not to waste water on Tatooine. Not even for the dead.”
Padmé was shocked. “So you didn’t even let yourself cry?”
The dark expression returned to Anakin’s face and this time he did not even bother hiding it. The cold chill from earlier returned in full force and Padmé shivered beneath his steely gaze.
“Oh, I cried. I cried alright. I cried so much I wanted to die. Is that what you wanted to hear Padmé? You wanted to hear about how weak I am? Laugh at how much I wept and whined over my own uselessness? Mock me for my failures?”
“No, of course not!” Padmé exclaimed, horrified that he could even think that of her. She rushed forward and wrapped Anakin in a tight hug.
“I would never, ever do that to you Anakin, I swear. You are my friend, no matter how horrible of one I’ve been myself this past year. I want only to help you, to comfort you. Do anything I can to make it hurt even a little less.”
Anakin did not return the hug; his arms lay limp at his sides. His voice was cold and haunted when he spoke. “Why are you so nice to me? What did someone like me ever do to deserve this? I’m just some pathetic former slave boy from an insignificant dustball. I couldn’t save anybody. Not my mother. Not the pilots I flew with above Naboo. Not your family or anyone else who died in the Bombardment. Nobody. I’m just a failure.”
Padmé broke the hug to make sure he looked her in the eyes as she retorted, made sure he knew just how earnest she was being.
“You are not a failure, Anakin. And I will never think you are. It is not your fault. None of it has ever been your fault. It was all Watto’s fault, and Gunray’s and the rest of the Trade Federation and all these slavers, criminals, and corrupt politicians. All of those filths that pollute and corrupt the galaxy, they’re the ones responsible. Not you. Never you. And I swear to you. I will not rest until every last one of them is purged from this galaxy. Until I make sure that what happened to both of us can never happen to anyone ever again!” Padmé declared passionately.
For the first time in their whole conversation, Padmé thought she saw Anakin smile genuinely then. It was not the wide exuberant smile of the innocent young boy she had met on Tatooine, the boy he had been pretending to still be when she had walked into that apartment.
It was a more subtle, smaller smile. The gentle, almost sad, smile of someone who had been beaten down into the dirt by the galaxy but had finally found a reason to go on.
“Even now you still continue to amaze and inspire me,” Anakin said quietly, more to himself than to her.
Before Padmé could reply, Anakin stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug with more strength than his small frame should possess.
“Thank you, Padmé,” he whispered in her ear before he stepped back, a newfound fire and passion burning in his eyes as he offered his hand.
“It seems our goals are the same. I just needed the reminder that it’s still worth fighting for. Let’s make a promise you and I. That we’ll work together to see our dream come true. We’ll take this galaxy by storm and leave it a better place than we found it. Make things the way we want them to be, no matter what it takes.”
Padmé took his hand gladly and shook it. “No matter what it takes,” she repeated, sealing their promise.
It should have been just her humoring a friend or placating a grieving child. It shouldn’t have felt like a solemn oath between equals. Like it actually meant something. Yet it did. Padmé felt that certainty deep down with every part of her being.
She didn’t know how or why, but somehow this promise she had just made with Anakin felt far more meaningful than the pact she had agreed to earlier with Palpatine. Anakin was just a boy, Palpatine was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Her agreement with Palpatine should have meant so much more, yet looking at Anakin right now, she couldn’t help but feel that they had just rewritten destiny in some way.
Something in her heart told her that Anakin had a role to play in all of this that was far greater than anything either her or Palpatine could ever hope to achieve.
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Author’s Note: I hope you guys liked this chapter! Honestly, I feel quite proud of how it turned out, especially all the characterizations and dialogue.
Once again, massive inspirations and quotes from the Darth Plagueis and Revenge of the Sith novels! Such phenomenal books that deserve all credit, as does Raging Smurf for some dope ideas and lines of dialogue!
As promised, this is the start of the Patreon stockpile building for TFSFM! Chapter 2 has been posted publicly to further promote the story and gauge interest but this chapter, Chapter 3, will not be posted publicly until all of you here on Patreon get Chapters 4-9! Stay tuned! Thanks for subscribing and supporting!
Please let me know your thoughts, suggestions, and questions in the comments below or over on Discord! This chapter can also be read over on Tertius711.com!