SPEB - Round Robin

Rating: PG-13 Because it doesn't contain swearing or graphical sex, but the hero is a person without morals and there is some violence described in detail.
Warning: Some violence and a general lack of morals and ethics.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit work of fannish love about a character introduced by George Lucas. Set and setting of the story as well as the characters accompanying the hero belong to the authors who collaborated at this roundrobin
Summary: ."Once upon a time there was a boy named Palpatine..." - the formative years of Darth Sidious.
Acknowledgement: .First and foremost thanks to the initiator of this round robin game - Ide Cyan - and its contributors - Lady Selinthia, MaulsMate, saphsaq/Erik Böge, Darth Crone, Sith Lady, chemist. But without the encouraging comments and the interest of all the other regulars at the SPEB this work in progress most likely wouldn't have been so much fun and so fruitbearing. Thanks to you too.
Feedback to all authors: via saphsaq@lycos.com

Once upon a time on Naboo there lived a young boy named Palpatine, and we know what he accomplished, and that he grew old, and died. There lived a boy called Palpatine, but how he became a Dark Lord of the Sith, we do not know.

It is dark in the ruins of the Palace tonight. We are sitting around a fire and the skin on our faces is hot. We have wrapped blankets around our shoulders against the cold at our backs. We are waiting. We want to know.

The Lady sits with us, destitute of all her powers but the power of recounting tales. She loosens her cloak, which still has the stains of blood shed a long time ago. She warms her hands to the fire. We offer her a tumbler of wine. She drinks from it and seems to look down, into herself, into the past.

"Once upon a time there was a boy named Palpatine," she begins. "I did not know him as a child, but I have been told about his youth. Once upon a time there was a boy named Palpatine, who grew up on Naboo."

The boy, just eleven years old, watched the game on the sidelines of play. The other boys kicked the stuffed nerf ball about the large green field, yelling in excitement and occasional happiness as they scored some intangible victory.

The boy who watched did not bother to keep the sneer off of his face. He was annoyed by such mindless antics, finding them very tiresome and stupid. The other children, he had long ago decided, did not use their brains enough. They were content to roll about in the dirt like idiots. At times, he would provoke such games amongst the other boys, subtly, cleverly. Occasionally, it was even a fistfight between rivals that sprung full from his efforts. He once did it to prove that he was smarter than they were. That did not take much, and afterwards he simply did it to silently laugh at them, to know that, aside from their own emotions and motivations *he* was the one who had caused it. It made him smile at times, not happily, but cleverly.

The boy, who's name was Palpatine, had few friends. He did not consent to run with the masses as did most other children of his age. But he ensured that those friends that he did make were true and loyal companions. Holding casual companionship in derision, he knew what true friendship was.

At times, when he lay alone at night, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, he almost envied those mindless masses of casual companionship, who engaged in their games so very easily. At times, he longed to join into their play. But then, when he saw them the next day, walking near them, perhaps having one speak to him, he realised all over again the folly of that course. It was not worth it to throw himself into their masses simply for a few moments of enjoyment. It would become all too easy to linger with them, and loose himself, his individual identity, within their group setting, where all boys looked the same. And he knew that he was meant for far better than that.

But he suspected, with a deep conviction, that life would throw many more trials at him before it was through.

...As he grew a bit older, 16, 17, 18 years of age, he realised that other boys set aside childish games of play and turned their fancies to more romantic ideas. Some sought the company of young ladies, while others sought companionship among their own sex. Palpatine was not immune to these normal, physical stirrings. But, again, he could do nothing but sneer at his contemporaries. They looked to those who were fine of form and pretty of face. And always, they would gather in groups to bray of their conquests, most of them imagined or at the very least, enhanced. And Palpatine would sit and listen quietly off to the side and smile to himself. Fools all. He too sought out lovers, but not of the ilk his peers did. Always, he looked for one of high intellect, of cunning and wit. And Palpatine always had a gift for seeing peoples thoughts. Therefore, he made no mistakes. He never loved any of them, but he had to admit he held a quiet respect for all of them. However, in the end, he always found himself alone. Somehow, he knew he was above them all. And it was not conceit that made him think this way, it was a certainty that came from deep within his being. And so he plodded through his late teens, always searching for his destiny and the path that would lead him there...

Though his body was not yet fully mature, his mind had long ago gained fullness. He did not feel anything in particular on this, his last year as a teenager. For a long time, he had felt not young, not old, but ageless. More like an entity apart from all around him. Age had no real meaning for him.

Walking along the main street of Theed under the moonlight, he contemplated the energy that radiated about him. It seemed to seep from the people, swirl through the air, tease and tantalise his mind and senses. He'd felt it for most of his life, but of late, the sense had become more. . .intense. Long ago, he had suspected that this sense sprung from the Force, from that energy which the Jedi Order employed. Perhaps he could have been a Jedi himself, once, but he had never been discovered, never mind early enough to be 'recruited' by the Order.

His feelings upon that matter were mixed. He coveted the power that the Jedi wielded, but he most certainly did not agree with the Codes of the Knighthood, the weak teachings of hypocrites.

He should be returning to his home, soon, the young man contemplated. Orphaned at a young age, he'd been left everything by his rather wealthy parents, including their residence in Theed itself. He had been raised by a distant cousin, but she had been killed several years ago in one of Naboo's very rare violent incidents. The matter had never been solved, and Palpatine had been left alone. He didn't mind, never having been close to his cousin. He did not feel things as other did. Though he could respect, and grieve when the objects of that feeling passed out of his life, he did not loose control. He simply accepted what was, what could not be changed, and moved onwards, not looking back to the past.

Stopping by the channel, he looked up at the stars. Theed's University, of which he was a student, began classes quite early in the morning, and he truly did need his sleep, but something told him that he should wait here, stay a few moments longer. He had learned to trust those hints as he trusted little else, and so he continued to look up at the twinkling sky. Moving closer to the river, he sat down by the edge and, leaning over, ran a hand through the cool water. A splash on his face cooled him off in the summer warmth, and made him smile in vague contentment. It was rare that he would sit without thought or worry, and so, for once, he simply enjoyed it in the manner that those who did not think or worry often never could. It was the luxury of it that made it so enjoyable.

A quiet rustle behind him sounded, but Palpatine did not move. A dark shape lowered itself beside him, and two boots were place in the space between them, along with socks. Two feet were placed in the water and a contended sigh sounded.

"It's a good night to sit by the river," the other man--for it was a man's voice and form--observed.

Palpatine finally turned to the man, frowning as he saw that his face was completely covered by an enveloping black hood, and the rest of his body was cloaked and covered.

"Of course," said the man, sounding amused. "And you gave the right one. No exclamations of shock, simply cool disdain. Perfect. I have been watching you for many years. I have been *testing* you for many years. And I have come now to grant you a choice."

Palpatine was disturbed. If what this man said was true, then someone had been monitoring him, and he had never even suspected it. Anger stirred within him, along with resentment, but he quelled it. His need to understand outweighed it in importance. As well, the man was a potential danger. He did not want to get in over his head by sparking any hostilities that he may not be able to live up to.

"You're intelligent, logical. Most would react without thought or foresight. Very good. And I am dangerous. If you accept my offer, you could someday surpass me, but for the time being, I would destroy you quickly."

His voice was not that of a braggart, simply that of a man confirming a fact. Palpatine was annoyed, but much less so than he would have been had the man been boasting.

Palpatine has no clue why this actually straight talking stranger starts to wriggle at this point. The young man throw a stone in the canal ”No." The silence lasted long between them. At least Palpatine be forced to speak ”Once upon the time an outcast of the Jedi Knights should have rally round his person Knights who felt also uncomfortable with the rules of the Order. It must have been a great number. They fought the Jedi but lost at the end, bleed to death by struggling one against the other in useless intrigues." Carefully he avoids to mention the atrocities he also has been told.

”Why not, the were Jedi at the beginning ... But the Sith are extinct many years ago." Palpatine finds his patience fading away.

The man next to him moves his bare feet in the water in amusement. ”Well, not bad at all. For a look from the outside." He continues with his normal stating tune ”The *outcast* founded a Order. A countless number knights joined it. The chosen archenemy was the Order of the Jedi. With time is passing by it becomes clear the rules of the Sith Order needs revision. So it happened. Since this ancient times there is a unbroken chain of Sith masters and ... apprentices." Again with amusement he closes ”That should be enough history for today. We still alive. And we’re not so distinct from the Jedi, as you suppose."

Palpatine stared mute at the gloomy speaker. He wouldn’t let out the first word, for it was obviously what it should be about. A faint voice in his head starts to send warnings. Remembers him of thoughts regarding the Jedi Order. He has discarded the idea to join them without regret ... Sith is also a Order devoted to the Force ...

Silence. At least a second time in this negotiation Palpatine be forced to speak ”Yes, Master. May I become your apprentice?" The faint voice in his head could only mumbled a last word then he dropped it.

”Perfect again, my young apprentice. A choice made well thought, but with no unnecessary emotions." In contrast to this praising words the Sith Master sounds not really surprised.

”You told me, you’ve supervised me a long time ... Will there be more tests? May I ask for your plans concerning me?" Palpatine lowered his voice to the end wavering between his normal habit of staying calm and the excitement of entering a new universe.

”Ah, the rush of the youth! I´ve missed that a little, you know? As I said: you’re intelligent, logical, cold blooded, yet be able to control others. Your special forces lift you out of the masses. But a bit to high for your state, my apprentice. I will change your point of view ... You’re social skills needs shaping. You’re student? Fine. What a lot of possibilities to share time with fellows." Lord Gorgeon sounds sarcastic as he adds ”Yes, my apprentice, there are two ways. One starts with mental training and ends with the mastering of the physical world. The other starts on the physical side and ends on the mental. I set the first one for you. But don’t mind to ask if you wish a change."

The dark hooded Lord took a flat stone and throw it. The stone hits seven times the water surface before it lands on the opposite bank with a sharp click.

Palpatine loosed his eyes from the canal and turned the head. The stranger has vanished.

In the clear morning light, which define all things well, the lean, young man rose. His eyes were of the dark greys and blues storm clouds often show, the reddish-yellow hair met dishevelled nearly the shoulders. He has a new target.

Palpatine wandered back along the streets, wondering where the time went to. It seemed that only minutes ago it had been the middle of the night, and now the sun is rising. He wondered if the Sith had manipulated his perceptions in some manner, to demonstrate his mastery and remind Palpatine to remember who was the more powerful.

It was quite an interesting situation, he mused. An opportunity to gain power, to be sure. What did the future hold in store? And when would Gorgeon contact him again?

For the first time in a long time, Palpatine felt off balanced and unsure of his place. He was now apprenticed to a Sith. He didn't need to be told to keep quiet about the entire affair. Any Jedi would cheerfully slaughter him should they ever hear of the matter. He wasn't in the habit of speaking his secrets to anyone, however, so it was not a matter for distress.

So, he was to practice his social skills, was he? Palpatine smiled slightly as he made his way up a street filled with the ornate buildings that Theed was famous for all over Naboo.

He did admit that he was hardly a social butterfly, but that had never been a matter for concern, as he'd never wanted to be. Still, he did admit that there were some benefits to attaining a more public face. He would avoid a great deal of resentment and resultant suspicion should he become more. . .friendly. He felt resentment himself at the though, however, of putting his true self away behind one of the invisible masks that it seemed more everyone in the universe wore. The happy, polite, pleasant, conforming mask of society. He loathed it and he was being told to master it.

Still, he could gain influence through such manners, presenting a face that people weren't afraid to listen to and confide in. If he were going to wear a mask, after all, he was going to wear the most convincing.

He took out his key and unlocked the door, as well as running his palm over the security system. He waited until the red light signifying recognition and the deactivation of the security system appeared. Naboo may be without war, but that did not exclude it from common criminals.

Palpatine walked into the outer hall, yawning slightly. Classes were going to be hell today with no rest at all. It was very early, however. Perhaps he could afford two hours or so of sleep. It was better that nothing.

And then the odd things began to happen. Just little ones: After two hours' sleep, he felt refreshed and revitalised. His concentration on his own abilities and superiority sometimes faded as he looked at one of his classmates, until he glimpsed -dimly - the deepest needs and fears of that person. The knowledge given out in class began to flow into him even more effortlessly, and he could not stop himself seeking out other sources of knowledge, more rare and arcane. Uncomfortable with the idea that his new master was helping and controlling him at such a distance, nevertheless he took it all and learned to use it.

Palpatine sat in his philosophy class, pondering the matter in the text book before him. It was a theory upon the basic tenants of darkness and light within the universe.

He disagreed with it completely, but irritably followed along in any case. It was a means to an end. One needed good grades, after all, in order to pass the classes and graduate.

The professor, who had stepped out for several minutes, now came back into the room, observing the class in it's study, punctured by the occasional low volume chatter. He seemed pleased over something.

Palpatine, glancing up, frowned at the intent look upon the man's face. Something was going to happen, the young man suddenly sensed. Something. . .important.

"It has come to my attention," the professor spoke suddenly, gathering the attention of his students as they looked up with vaguely anticipatory expressions, "That we shall be having a guest speaker later this weeks. A Jedi Knight has agreed to make a visit to Theed and the University in particular. Our distinguished visitor will be discussing the Jedi philosophies and way of life. You're required to attend the session and make notes upon your thoughts of the Jedi philosophies."

The man sat down, looking satisfied at the students glanced at each other with interested expressions. Jedi were barely more than legends, and the opportunity to observe and perhaps question one was once in a lifetime for most people.

Palpatine felt a sudden chill of ice run down his spine. It seemed that he was to be tested in an entirely different manner than any of his schooling generally precipitate. He must ensure that the Jedi did not discover him.

"And that, as servants of the Light, is our main duty." The Jedi, a tall, dignified man was at the end of his lecture. Palpatine had been afraid to attend, and for a brief moment had even thought of feigning illness, but then felt that this was a test he must pass. So far, so good.

"Any questions?" The Jedi had a deep, clear voice and he spoke with an unseen authority that made the class sit down and pay attention. They had been listening every word with awe, not even making the background noise that a classroom full of young people usually made. Palpatine felt outsider. Not that this was a new feeling, he had felt outsider his entire life, but this was different. He had to struggle not to laugh. His classmates seemed foolish, hanging on the Jedi's words like they were uttered by a god. Slowly he raised his hand.

"Sir, you said that an important part of becoming a Jedi is to recognise and defeat the evil within you. But, if I may, how do you define that evil? You spoke earlier that giving in to the Dark Side is basically giving in to your baser desires. But surely that cannot be the whole answer. For is not hunger a baser desire? Or is starving a desirable Jedi quality?"

The Jedi looked at him thoughtfully for a long time before answering. Palpatine felt uncomfortable, feeling that the Jedi was reading his mind.

"Important part of becoming a Jedi is indeed recognising the evil within. Defining that evil is not, however, a simple matter, as you yourself noticed. Giving in to your baser desires does play a big role in it, but it is not all, and that evil is everyone's personal dark side." He turned his attention to the whole class. " In time, each one of you will have to face your own dark side. I hope that the struggle is an easy one and the outcome good. For a Jedi, the fight, be it physical or mental, can be a matter of life and death. But by following the Code we can face that evil more easily, knowing that we are not alone."

Palpatine frowned. "But does not the Dark Side have a Code as well? And even more binding? For from your words I have understood that the dark Side is continuously around us, and how could that be if it was just about baser desires? It wouldn't last five minutes. Rejecting the Light cannot mean accepting it's description of the Dark, and therefore the Code of the Dark Side must be stricter than the Jedi Code..."

Palpatine realised that he had been thinking aloud and closed his mouth quickly. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, the eyes of the Jedi in particular were looking at him curiously.

"You are a curious one" The Jedi said at last. "But that kind of curiosity can be dangerous and lead to wrong paths. Be careful where you tread, young man."

Palpatine felt both panicky and oddly secure at the same time. The Jedi couldn't see his mind! The realisation made him feel strong and he risked a smile. "Yes, sir."

The Jedi frowned, but at that moment the bell rang and the class began filing out of the room, Palpatine among them. Glancing past his shoulder he could see the Jedi standing still a thoughtful look on his face. Turning around Palpatine couldn't help a victorious grin. He had done it!

He found himself cursing in the street. How bloody boring it has been! Never - never ever - he would do this again! This invitation ... Well, if he thought about a little more calmly ... Palpatine took a deep breath:

On the floor, after leaving the class one of his rare friends joined him. ”He, old boy - what a battle! I never saw you so hot on this cold matter, philosophy. Have you something at the schedule for tonight? I’ll give a party – you’re welcome!" Suddenly Palpatine was becoming the centre of a chattering crowd. All seemed seriously working to convince him not to miss this party.

It must be because of a moment of completely blindness - no, he has to be honest: Two reasons let him stood in front of the door of his friend as the night has fallen. At first his high spirits about the victoriously passed test. The sky’s the limit!! After this victory the invitation to the party could only be another move in his game. (Yes, the Jedi Knight weren’t able to read his mind. A Jedi Knight! Even after this disgusting evening, this bloody bad party, he could feel the new level of strength he entered with the encounter.) The second reason was the advice of his new found master to broaden his social skills. According to this he had decided to wore the mask of the crowd and this means took part of social events.

He wasn’t the first nor the last who arrived. A crowd were spread over ten or more rooms (His friend belongs also to a wealthy family and his parents weren’t at home for some days.).

Some music. (Only chart breakers; he needed a while for finding the source of the music and convinced the dj to play one of his favourites.)

Some to eat. (It seems every one tried to bring in little tidbit to boast with its rareness.)

Some to drink. (This was the thing his friend was responsible for and therefore you could drink ‘til you loose your mind. A lot of the folks do so.)

Some drugs. (No, this wasn’t a event for escaping reality. Only enough for bringing a flavour of bohemianism to the party.)

Some conversation. (Relationships, Sports, Teachers,... always swimming at the surface. No one seems to be interested to dive in a real discussion.)

He roamed the different sites of the party only to find everywhere the same ordinary. Yes, he was able to read the mind of the people. But for what? He always detected the same thoughts, meanings, brains. And - rarely it happened - if there was a different thought, it doesn’t last long for altering it to the common line. He could only watch it in disgust the sheer volume of people hindered him to influence the minds of the people.

At least he found himself sitting next one of these party queens! Not that he has force it - it happened. Not that he would pay special attention on female beauty - she was a living daydream. It lacked her of intelligence and wit, but she was a patient listener. And she seemed to find a lot of comfort in a conversation (To be honest: He monologised mostly.) which is not turning round her and her beauty and how she like the counterpart. (And, another point to be honest: He enjoyed the amazing gazes of his friend, wanna-be-friends and all the others. Yes, he just sit and talk with one of the most idolised woman of the party!)

He held the stand for a long time. Then he gave up. It was too boring! Too enervating!! Even in the cold wind of the streets he needed a time to clear his mind of this ordinary he has suffered in the last hours. ”Interesting, isn’t it?" His master! A look aside showed him the cloaked man. ‘Yea, good question master.’ This tall an heavy figure radiated enough self-assurance to survive such party without a trace in its mind. ”You do a very good job today. Go to bed and sleep well. Didn’t you get another invitation to a party next week?" It crossed Palpatines mind softly. "Yes, master." He tried to recognise how his master disappear - the next thing he remembered he was laying naked in his bed. No idea how he come into his flat nor into his bed. Palpatine decided to sleep.

He was sitting in perfect darkness. It was not broken by the slightest spark of light. It was velvet and smooth and enveloping. Palpatine smiled in the depths of it, holding up his hands to his face, attempting to see if the dark truly was as pure as it seemed. He waited for night vision to kick in and pick up on any trace appearances of light, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He heard a noise, a low humming sound, ringing through the dark, and suddenly he was elsewhere. He didn't question this, in the manner of most dreamers, who, no matter their feelings in regards to a dream, generally don't question what is happening.

He was standing in a jungle. It was dark and damp and there were strange glass beads hanging from the branches, in necklace shapes and crowns. The beads shone as bright as jewels. Palpatine smiled and touched them. He wanted to pick some of them, like one would pick flowers, but somehow knew that he mustn't, that it would be wrong. Again, he didn't think about this or rationalise it as he would have when awake. No, he simply knew this as true.

Palpatine didn't mind. The person felt threatening in a general manner, very dark, but somehow inviting to Palpatine himself.

He felt a sudden, fierce, compelling urge to see this person's face, all of a sudden.

His breath was low and shallow as he turned, but reality flickered, and the jungle disappeared.

They were standing in a lushly appointed chamber in which a fireplace roared. They were both holding wine glasses, filled with ruby red liquid. Palpatine smiled and took a drink, watching the hand of the other, the only part he could currently see. It was strong and masculine, but slender. It's fingers were the clever fingers of an artist.

Palpatine looked up and smiled at the face before him. It was dark, very dark, hooded loosely in black silk, but it's skin was pale. The darkness was mental, not physical. The man smiled from beneath his hood. His lips were full and bloody. His eyes were glinting silver, pure and mettalic. They were full of dark secrets, the secrets of eternity.

"I know you," he whispered, enthralled. The man before him was incredibly compelling. The sheer power radiating from him was intoxicating.

"And I know you, boy," the man smiled, almost mockingly, as though he knew that Palpatine would protest anyone else calling him 'boy' but that he knew that Palpatine, captivated as he was, would allow this man to call him anything he wished.

Palpatine stepped forward. His eyes were fixed upon the other, and his breathing was again coming quick. He lifted a hand to the man's lips and nearly gasp at the pleasure that rushed through him with the barest contact of fingers to mouth. The pleasure was unnatural, shocking and strange, but in the dream the Sith apprentice was not surprised.

"Who are you?" he gasped. Something in him was telling him that he must control his reactions, that to loose oneself in this man was to loose oneself for all of time, but he didn't care. At that moment, he wanted to give in. He wanted to be lost.

"One who watches you closely. My name is Bogan," the man said with harsh glee. His eyes flashed and he pulled the young man forward, catching him in his velvet embrace. Palpatine gasped again as he felt the darkness envelope him completely.

Palpatine smiled as he was lost in eternity. He wanted to stay there forever, lost in perfect pleasure.

Palpatine bowed before his Master. Deep enough to show respect, but not so deep to show humility.

"Here, apprentice. Take it. It's time to move on in your education." Lord Gorgeon was holding a long circular object in his hand. Palpatine took it ant turned it around in his hands. "It's a light sabre, isn't it, Master" he said. "Yes. It once belonged to my Master. You are doing an excellent job on your developing your social skills, but we must not forget the physical training. Even if you yourself won't need the fighting skills, you will have to be able to train your own apprentice when the time comes."

Palpatine bowed again. He felt that he really didn't need the physical training, that his mastery laid elsewhere, but if this was what his Master wanted, then so be it. Palpatine had long ago found out that politeness and mental manipulation got better results than physical bullying. The trick was to make people believe that his suggestions were actually theirs, and after you found the right button to push, their hearts and minds were sure to follow. But Palpatine was ready to try the training, physical exhaustion might help him to clear his mind and focus.

He ignited the sabre and it flared to life with a low humming sound. The blade was of a deep red colour and it glowed with subtle menace. His Master smiled, then drew his own sabre and ignited it. "Time for your first lesson."

”Yes," the Sith Lord answered his apprentice thoughts ”your primary weapon is your mind. And as I promised you, you’ll mastering over mind the physical side of the world. But this needs a clear mind. You’re right to expect this clearing from physical training."

Then his master took posture and pushed back the sleeve from his sword hand. His forearm bore a pale leopard pattern. As he bend the wrist to point the sabres tip at Palpatine a violet shine run over the skin. He started to move toward Palpatine.

Because Palpatine has no experience with sabres - may them be of steel or light - he treed to copy his master exactly. Only to found himself give ground. Although he was also armed deadly! It seemed to him that his master didn’t need the sabre, his whole person pushed the opponent away.

”Good guess. The first thing is to made the weapon part of your body. Its belonging to you, is only a extension of you." The Master deactivated his sabre and gestured invitingly. ”To find comfort with your new limb just act with. Become used to its weight. Feel what happened if you move it. What happened if you move with it."

Palpatine felt a certain timidity and started with a few little steps. After a while his movements became more space taking. At least he began to enjoy the humming sound and the red flashes of the weapon. He walked freely and swung the blade with self-assurance.

Lord Gorgeon nodded agreeing and directed him to stop in the first position - sabre in front. Turning round Palatine he corrected with sure hand the posture of his apprentice. Unbend the elbows, lowered the shoulders, relaxed hip and knees, centred the body. ”The next point is to be aware of the space around you." With his again ignited light sabre the master show some simple movements. The strait down hit, how to turn and a rotation while one hand is cutting.

Again and again Palatine be forced to do single parts of this movements. Again and again he looked at his masters example to get a hint how to put sabre, arms and all. He felt he could see what to do but not sense why. ”Ah, another good guess. Understanding is with the mind. But its useless, what you’ve to do is perceiving. To get rid of your mind let’s repeat the movements again."

Time runs slow and Palpatine get bored. Also his arms and legs began to radiate flashes of pain. At this point Lord Gorgeon decided to change the issue. ”To do all movements with grace and no pain in any part of your body you’ve to learn about the third point - do all movements with the whole body." Grinning the Lord added ”More, put your whole personality in every step or hit you take. - Well, that’s a advice for the future not for the present lecture."

This part of the lesson was more interesting. Palpatine must do now the full movements. He was taught how to harmonise his breath with the hits, how to strike scissor-like - both hitting and cutting at the same time, how to find a rhythm in feet and arm movements - this especially made vanishing the pain in his limbs, how to stab like flashing into the opposite. But the more Palpatine was mastering his body and light sabre the more he realised how far he was from mastering the whole issue. After hours of monotone drill he was ready to perceiving how clumsy he stepped instead of putting the feet lightly or how he clasped the sabre instead of holding free and easy.

Palpatine tried harder. Sweat run down his face, breast and on his back between the shoulders. He got out of breath. The pain came back. But he hasn’t reach it! Not yet! This was only the prelude. Lets start again this move ...

”Stop that!" His masters voice took Papatine back into reality. ”Don’t underestimate your talent. You’r just a beginner in this art but a fast learner. Let me demonstrate it." With a knowing smile he ignited his light sabre ”This is the last part of your lesson for today."

With weak knees and a dry mouth Palpatine did as his master ordered. First Position - sabre in front. Sure he’ll be to exhausted and physically not able to hold the stand - but ... This encounter was different from the one at the very beginning of the lesson. The sabres met noisily at a point nearly one handbreadth beyond their tip. Two perfectly shaped spheres connected and streams of energy manage to flow to and fro! This amazing discovery let Palpatine ignore his exhaustion to long. Overpowered by his master he stumbled. At his back he felt a wall. Slowly he sank down.

”The next lesson will be about the right way to draw the sabre. Any question, my apprentice?"

"No questions this time, my master," Palpatine said, somewhat ironically. Usually, he did ask questions, a great deal of them. But he really didn't care much about the correct way to draw a light sabre. True, it could be useful and it would certainly be unpleasant should he learn it incorrectly, should he ever find himself in need of actually using the light sabre against an enemy, but still, the subject wasn't his favourite.

"I see," Lord Gorgeon said. His eyes smiled knowingly as he eyed his slender, devious apprentice. The Master Sith was built largely, a born warrior in his soul, though he was forced to take on a more subdued mannerism a great deal of the time. He knew that his apprentice worked more with his mind, with the force of his will, than he did with his body. But knowing the body, being aware of it's potential power, could someday be the difference between life and death, and Gorgeon was determined to show it to Palpatine.

He gestured to the floor of the large gym-room they were practising in. They were in the Master's home.

Palpatine sat down gratefully, feeling the true satisfaction that one can only feel after a through rousing of adrenaline and use of muscles. Pleasant exhaustion weighed him down.

Gorgeon gestured to a droid by the side of the room, and the mechanical thing brought over several tall glasses of something that looked and tasted like cool, refreshing water, but which restored the body's energy much quicker.

Palpatine smiled into the glass. It tasted good, the way only water can when one is uncomfortably hot.

Lord Gorgeon lowered himself down beside his student, drinking from his own glass.

"What do you hope to learn from your life, my apprentice?" he asked suddenly. "Not just from your training. Do you have a code? Do you have a way of life, or do you simply go from moment to moment? What is it that you think?"

Palpatine looked over at him, a wrinkle of thought between his eyes, surprised expressed on his features at the question.

Palpatine tried to think. He was still so pleasantly relaxed that his mind didn't want to work properly. "I want to be something great. I want people to remember me." He managed.

Lord Gorgeon slapped him sharply across the cheek. "That was not an answer, student! You already know you're better than the rest, otherwise I wouldn't have chosen you." He stood up and gestured Palpatine to follow. "You have to do better than that."

"I...I saw a man. He called himself Bogan. He..he is hard to describe" Lord Gorgeon came suddenly close to Palpatine and took his chin in his hand and looked deep in his eyes. "I knew there was something more in you..."He muttered "What did he tell you?"

"He said that he knew me." It was hard to describe that dream, just a memory of it brought back the wonderful feeling it had left Palpatine.

"You don't know who Bogan is, do you?" Lord Gorgeon was still staring intently at Palpatine. "No,Master."

"He is the Dark Side. He seems to favour you. I wasn't wrong at choosing you... Walk with me." Gorgeon opened a door and stepped outside to a balcony. Palpatine followed and they stood shivering in the cold night breeze.

"You know the Jedi myth of the Chosen One who will bring balance to the Force? No, you are not that one, you are too deep in the Dark Side, but there has been a severe imbalance in the Force during the last centuries. You will, in your part restore that balance, and possibly even tip the scale for our favour. The Light is growing weak. The Jedi is lulled in their belief that the Sith has been completely wiped out."

Palaptine stared at his Master. He seldom was surprised, but this speech left him speechless. "Thank you, Master." His voice was hoarse and he stammered a little. "But we are only two and the Jedi are so many. How can we ever match them?"

"Well, what happened to your arrogance, apprentice?" Gorgeon grinned. "There was more of us, but none of them was willing to bend anyone else's will. It led to bloodbath and chaos. The Jedi actually didn't have to do much, we practically wiped out each other. Chaos can never rule. Never." Gorgeon sipped his drink and continued. "Two of us is enough, student. You see, the Dark Side is stronger than the Light Side. It's more concentrated, more intense. The Light is about serenity, order, obedience. By Jedi standards the Dark Side, our side, is all chaos, intolerance and suffering. They perceive the world as black and white. They couldn't be more wrong..."

Palpatine frowned. "Then what is our side, Master? I've heard nothing but talk about baser desires"

"You're right, in a way. Consider them. A need to feed, sure, and the need to procreate. And above all a need to survive. It's called LIFE, apprentice, and that's what the Jedi are afraid of. Not us, not any nameless 'evil', but life itself. Don't underestimate the Jedi. Their fear gives them more strength that they are willing to admit. Learn from them. Be patient. And then destroy them from inside."

Gorgeon patted his student's shoulder. "Enough of this. You still have a lot to learn." With that he went back inside. Palpatine stared thoughtfully in the space for a long time. Then he raised his head to look at the moon. A slow smile settled on his face.

Laughter and the sound of tapping little feeds hit the silent man at the balcony. Palpatine turned and entered the gym. Three little children run around his master. His children. They hasn’t the leopard pattern and the violet shine of his masters skin, but their eyes were the same. Yellow with a star-like pupil.

As the children spotted Palpatine they giggled and try to hide behind the father. ”Say: Hello, Palpatine" bend Gorgeon friendly over his children. ”Hello, Palpatine!" Another giggling and hiding-seeking. Softly interrupted the father the playing. ”Well done. But now its time to go to bed. Hurry up!"

Palpatine decided this was also a good advice for him. ”May I leave you and go home master?"

”Sure, we’ve finish for today. Just keep the lessons and my question about the meaning of your life in mind. We will stress it again." Dismissed the Sith Master his apprentice.

On the way back home thoughts sailed slowly like heavy rain-clouds through Palpatines mind. He crossed the canal. 'Im not the chosen one. Why not? Is there only one possible end? Is there a fixed way running through time? Who is making the rules ...'. He passed patches of light - leaking out of open bar doors - and dark - falling down from huge buildings. 'Life? The meaning of it? Well, at the moment my life is shared between the so to say real world university and the so to say Sith university. ... Lord Gorgeon is a interpreter and spokesman, has a wife and three children. He is a Sith. The head of the Sith. ... And I? A lot of learning and discovering lay in front of me ...' A drunken man stumbled out of a bar and Palpatine has to make way. 'I have to hide which side I’m on. This is weak. ... The Jedi couldn’t detecting me. My fellow students - should I say friends - guileless share classes and spare time with me. Ah, there will be this party. Should I really go?' In front of the house his flat was located the young man stopped undecided. He felt uneasy with this criss-crossing thoughts. Unhappy because no mind clearing was the result of the physical training. At least his body convinced him to have a shower, or better a bath. Maybe this would refreshes him and allow another turn through the sleeping city or he would have another dream of Bogan ... Neither the first nor the last happened. Palpatine plopped at his bed 'I’m not the chosen one.'

e slept like a stone at the bottom of a well. And wake up with still the same maze in his head. The same feeling he has had while the sabre training: to see the mistakes he made but not to know how to avoid them. For practical purposes he decided to postpone the whole thing.

The day at the university goes by like every day. Until the afternoon classes. A seldom seen teacher - ecause he was of another branch - went into the room. ”Good afternoon. The today’s schedule has a little bit changed. I’m here in substitution for your regular teacher. And I have a problem ... What shall I teach?" He waved his hands in refusal ”Spare time, eh? No, no, we have to do serious work. Well, I make a suggestion. A few days ago this Jedi Knight spoke about his life, his order and so on. I found it very impressive. It made me think of my life. My plans and how they are realised. You’re young, standing at the begin of life. Why we don’t talk about your plans for your future?"

‘Brilliant! Everyone try to talk with me about the meaning of life.’ Palpatine thought.

The discussion run at first like thickly liquid. To gave a helping hand the teacher made another suggestion ”Which profession you’ll like to have, for example?"

Palpatine watched and listened while his classmates on after another took the opportunity to promoting their image. ‘Ah, you like to become a designer, a couturiere. Oh dear, you’r only a fashion victim. Probably you will marry early, have some children and sit at home and read fashion magazines ‘til you old and ugly. You will never contribute a single sketch to those magazines.’ Palpatine smiled. ‘And you?’ A tiny and gaunt boy stud up and spoke in a harsh manner. ‘A leader. To become a governor is not beyond you. Interesting. You could also see yourself as a high-ranking officer.’ Palpatine had a closer look to the speaker. ‘The next. I haven’t expect that he would have anything to say ... No, I am right, nothing new. You pretends to be a artist, because you’re an artists son. But, really, the maze in your head is much better then the one in mine. Your absolutely right to tell you have nothing to say about your future.’ Palpatine sat back. He was now sure of his ability to have at deep insight into a strange mind. And he felt this time more comfortable with the surplus of information. At the very begin it was overwhelming and with difficulty perceptible at the same time. Like to be in a huge waiting-room with a odd acoustic. All voices mixed into a enormous but silent noise - hard to distinct one single voice and understand what it is telling.

”You’re only sit and look around. Listen to the speech. I bet you see yourself in the senate one day. Also only sit and look around."

”Well, it needs some more then only sit and look around to be a senator. And it isn’t wrong to say nothing. We aren’t in a competition. If someone is not sure about his interests it could be better to listen to the thoughts of others. Reflecting on it will ease the decision." Relaxed the teacher the situation. Then he showed a startled look. ”We run out of time! Its a pity - however, I hope all enjoyed this irregular lesson like I did. As far as I know tomorrow will be no change in the schedule."

The room emptied fast. Palpatine - amongst the last who left - was taken aside by the teacher. The old man gazes with curiosity at the student before him. Then he became serious ”Maybe your classmate wasn’t wrong at all. Yesterday this translator has spoken to me. He - ah, I have lost his name, he is also a spokesman ... Anyway, he was telling me about the possibility of a assistance, a practical at a political mission for a student. You’re interested? I see. Please follow me. I’ve made some notes about the matter, I will handing out you. They are in my bureau."

Palpatine smiled lightly as they strode down the floor. This was a nice lecture. His master has demonstrate him how to use people for own purposes. Obviously its true: it doesn’t need a great number of Sith. This discovery reconciled him to he had failed with the code for his life.

Palpatine considered the matter of the information his teacher had given him a great deal that night as he read it and reread it at his desk. The light were down low and he could almost imagine himself in some ancient time where the issues of his life didn't exist.

He was normally a decisive person, but he found himself faced with a choice now. He had long ago decided that he wanted to effect the world, but now that he'd been given an option, a goal to work towards, he found himself frustrated and oddly apathetic, willing to take a detour to avoid confrontation with decision.

Politics. It was an interesting course in life, to be sure. It offered power, the chance to make choices that would effect others. The chance to make changes to his environment. The power was by no means absolute, especially in a democratic system such as the Republic, but it was something, after all, and there was always the chance to improve upon his influence.

He was a Sith, an apprentice who would someday be a master, but really, what better place for a Sith than in politics. A chance to influence the whole galaxy with Bogan's teachings.

He frowned. There was by no means any solid chance that he would ever make it that far, for even a fraction of the galaxy to know his name, but even now, he felt that dawning surety that this was his path, that he had to do this.

He decided to contact the translator the next day. He needed more information that the little his teacher had been able to provide. Still, it seemed intriguing, offering the opportunity of some off-world travel [which he'd never experienced before] and some practical experience to begin a life in politics.

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He had only just come to the decision of what he would do with his life, at least in the overall sense, but already he wished to leap and bound into the future, where he would see that decision realised.

Of course, he knew that he must take his time and gain experience, that there was nothing sure in life, that just because he wanted something didn't mean that he was going to attain any position, that. . . .

Palpatine was bored out of his skull. He was sitting in the Theed City Council hall fingering his stack of papers. He had been more or less in politics for a few years now, and even though he had experienced some success (six months ago he had been elected to the City Council as its youngest member ever) his new career seemed to be standing still.

This Council meeting was unusually open to the public, and Lord Gorgeon had also arrived to inspect his student’s work. During the previous weeks the good citizens of Naboo had been shocked by the news that some of the most high ranking politicians had been seen taking bribes from the emissaries of the Trade Federation. People took it very seriously, they were extremely keen on keeping their little planet independent from any big coalitions, and giving the first nation status to anyone by the means of a crime set them on fire. Of course they vented their rage where they could, even if it was only a City Council. Palpatine started developing a pounding headache. The protesters were making their point by mostly shouting over the Council members, obviously trying to get their victory by sheer volume alone. The chairperson tried to create some order into the chaos in vain, not her threats nor pleads were getting any results. She had already had the loudest protesters removed but that only increased the volume and determination of the remaining crowd. ”Not a good idea to give the enemy any martyrs” Palpatine remembered his Masters lesson and suppressed a smirk.

The chairperson had finally managed something resembling order. She looked as if all she really wanted from the world right now was a hot, quiet bath. She turned to Palpatine and since she had already lost her voice simply motioned him to start his speech.

Palpatine stood up gathering his papers. He glanced at his Master who was sitting calmly at the back row, a strange spot of serenity in the middle of a near riot. ”Chairperson, Council members, ladies and gentlemen. The scandal that has shaken…”At that moment a man from the removed part of the crowd decided to burst back in to the hall, yelling at the top of his voice what should be done to the guilty politicians. Palpatine tried to continue his speech, found it very difficult and settled back to wait. He didn’t understand what exactly had made the audience so frantic. The issue was grave, but it shouldn’t have touched the common people this deep, no matter how much they had trusted their government before. He cast a speculative glance at his Master. Something was going on in here…

The yelling man started a fist fight when the guards began removing him again, and soon a part of the audience was enthusiastically involved. The chairperson looked ready to be hospitalised, the Council members were almost joining the fight, and Palpatine had had enough.

The mental command left faint echoes circling the room. Everybody sat down. A silence ensued.

*Very well done, apprentice* came the amused thought from the back of the hall. *The next time, however, we probably should practice the art of subtlety*

Palpatine grinned and bowed. He felt good. Full of energy. Strong. Near invincible. He looked at his glassy-eyed audience and for a moment was at loss. ”The people will want a new election. This government is clearly incapable of doing its work” he said at last. ”Demand a new election. Tell everyone you know to demand a new election. Now go home.” He watched the people nodding vaguely and starting towards the door, until there was no one left but him and Gorgeon.

”It was you Master, wasn’t it? You were controlling the audience.” Gorgeon nodded. ”I wanted to see you handling that kind of situation. You are in touch with the Force, but the connection needs to be strengthened. That was a good use of it though you should learn to take the full advantage of the mind control. A new election, apprentice?”

”Yes, Master. There most certainly will be one. And frankly, Master, I’m tired of sitting in this petty Council.”

”Hey! You!” Palpatine turned around slowly. ”Were you talking to me?” he asked politely. The man behind him was probably the biggest man he had ever seen. He was also painfully clearly drunk; the smell of both old and new alcohol hit Palpatine in the face.

”Yeah. You don’t see anyone else around, do you?” The man grinned swaying on his feet. ”You look like you had a few extra items on you. You’d better hand them over.” Palpatine blinked. This was NOT happening to him, not in the middle of the day, not in the middle of Theed. Granted, the alley was a in the more disreputable areas of the city, and served only as a handy shortcut, but it was in the city nevertheless. ”No” he said, amazed at the man’s impudence and stupidity. It was the would-be mugger’s turn to blink. ”No?” he asked, equally amazed.

Palpatine acted on instinct. He lashed out with all his might, sending the man flying against a nearby wall. The power rush he felt was so good that he didn’t stop the pressure, not when the man started begging for mercy, not even when his begs turned into screams of pain. The Force flowed through Palpatine, it was better than anything he had felt in his entire life and he felt like he was flying and the real world seemed to be covered with thick mist. He heard the man scream and scream and scream until there was nothing else in the world but his screams and the noise of his body crushing under his Force-hold. Palpatine laughed at that noise, he laughed when the screaming turned into a wet gurgling sound and finally died away, he laughed at the sight of the crushed body slipping down the wall leaving a bright red blood trail on the white surface.

The Force finally left Palpatine and he stayed still for a few moments, swaying and rubbing his blurred eyes. He heard a faint groan and turned to look at his handiwork. The body, or what was left of it stirred something that had possibly been a hand and made another sound. Palpatine hit the ground with a loud thud.

He woke up curled up in a foetal ball, lying in a puddle of his own vomit. He did not dare to stand up, in case the man was still not dead. The sun had set and that calmed him down considerably. At least now he didn’t have to see the body.

Palpatine reached inside himself, studying his emotions. Something had broken inside him when he had seen what he had done, shattered like an exploding window. But instead of the emptiness or regret he half-expected to feel, it was replaced by something hard and cold and smooth, like black marble. He blinked. No emotions for the thief, nothing but cool and certain knowledge that he had deserved his faith for daring to attack him. He stood up gingerly and walked to the corpse. It still turned his stomach and he had to turn away.

”Palpatine. Are you all right?” It was his Master, walking down the alley. ”I sensed your distress… oh, I see.” Gorgeon prodded the corpse with his foot and sighed. ”So how do you feel now?” ”I didn’t know how easy it is to kill someone, my Lord” Palpatine answered. The biggest shock had been the realisation that he had actually been capable of doing it, and that he had enjoyed the feeling of absolute power after a lifetime of being taught that killing was the worst crime of all. He could still remember the rush of the Force flowing through him.

Gorgeon nodded. ”You have hardened yourself. That’s good. I have no use of a Sith apprentice who’ll lose his lunch over a mere thief. He was of no significance, you are. You always are.” His tone was very practical. ”I’ll take care of the body, you go home. Your career might suffer if someone saw you here. We’ll talk about this later. ” Palpatine nodded and turned away without even glancing at the bloody carcass at his feet.

He wasn’t in a hurry to come home - he made complicate detours. The first thought was to veil his presence at the spot of the died. The second thought was about the new level of sithdom he has entered. Palpatine felt a sudden urge to present himself the whole city, the whole planet. Couldn’t they recognise the change his life has become? He roamed the frequented places and boulevards of Theed’s centre and searched curios the faces in the crowd for a sign of detection. No, it seems this very moment made only a difference for him ... Abruptly he comes to stop and frowned. What a stupid idea! Clearly there is only a change in his character, while his body, his attitude, his features are still the same. And if not, it would guide right way to a disaster. A lone Sith apprentice in the middle of Theet! Ridiculous!

In a down to earth mood he continued his walk. Yes, he has been waiting for this moment a long time. His first prey - the shadow of a smile curled his lips for a second. It has been a waiting in fear. The fear for his master. What would happened if he disappointing him ... The other fear was the fear for the doing. Some well buried memories begun to emerge. Palpatine started another detour.

It has been years ago. At his first ride with his master. He as a trainee. The official mission was ... Palpatine sneered. But the one remarkable, the only one remarkable thing happened at the off mission trip. Lord Gorgeon had begged the leader of the mission to let Palpatine attending him for a couple of days. The mission was nearly over, wasn´t it? And with success. Why not give this young and brave student the chance to studying some - uh - seldom visited planets and their political systems? Palpatine has been knowing immediately that would mean a new lesson for him. And his spirits rose higher the more his master was cloaking himself in silence about the destination.

They landed at a little, tidy space craft port. The landscape around it bore a kind of loveliness: a lush

savannah was spread over rolling hills, speckled with tall trees. Shallow lakes seemed to reach ‘til the horizon, which was sharply marked by the dark line of a wood. The inhabitants of the planet were the ordinary mixture of folks which could found at every place in the galactic republic. Most of them are breeder - As expectable in such a landscape.

The common scum hang around the port. Lord Gorgeon pushed his way fast through. "By the way my apprentice, these are the locals. Don’t touch them and don’t let you touched by them. They are able to scan your body and mind state." The locals. Wretched figures. Naked. Dirty. Stinking. With Deficiency diseases. And Drugs. Despite their humanoid features Palpatine considered them as animals.

One especially old and smeary one of this locals submissive draw nearer to the Sith Lord. They started to

negotiate something. Palpatine was allowed to read the mind of his master, for he can follow the talk easily. But he wasn’t able to understand at all, partly because of issue, partly because of the permanent nervous laughter of the local. Between a haha and a god-grand-master he picked up there would be a ceremony and between another haha and a grand-master-god he picked up that it would start when the sun is two fingers under the horizon. Lord Gorgeon dismissed the old man with his last haha and master-god-grand. Than he turned to his bewildered looking apprentice "May I introduce: the Sith."

In the next hours should Palpatine learned a lot about the of the Sith-Order. "Your permanent questions

convinced me at least that it is time to show your our roots." He was informed about the relationship between the Sith-order and the Sith-folk. "No, there is no strong relationship. We took the place and the name from them. They are just primitives." He was listening to the history of the planet. "In this hills you will find many remnants of our order. Lets climb up this one." He was told about the presence of the planet "To veil all traces of our order some times ago the land was handed out to settlers from all over the galaxy."

"What should be with them? They will become extinct. Their golden age is over. Primitives will always become outrun by the modern times."

"Why not. Why not, my apprentice? Its a nice one." His masters sounded amused. "Well, time to go to the campsite."

The only landmark for the camp were the waste dumps. And some fireplaces. Palpatine looked around with

disgust. "Lets take a seat over there my young apprentice. Yes, they a nothing but primitive hunters.

Atechnoloida. Having limited abilities to morph the body for making handicraft work and to do live scans by touching a person or animal. But some are more skilled. Much more skilled." As to emphasise this words a line of brass-coloured figures appeared. Palpatine took a closer look. This was coming nearer his idea of primitive hunters: good health state, a firm skin made it hard to detect the age and dignified movements. Only few women.

The ceremony started with sporadic cries. More voices join in and sudden a waving sound was created. This sound lasted for the whole night and Palpatine wasn’t sure if had been this sound or the fire or the mute squatting brass-coloured figures or his master next to him - anyhow, he was taken away. Emotions of been right in front of the source of life awoke.

The ceremony was about the final step of a initiation. A young man - clearly in trance - was carried around. All were holding branches an hit him with them. Then he was buried under the branches. Then it was made a bonfire of the branches. In the early morning light the brass-coloured people dug another brass-coloured one out of the ashes.

"Time to leave my apprentice. I hope you have enjoyed the ceremony." Lord Gorgeon rose and gestured ordering to the old man with the nervous laughter they met yesterday. "We need a attendant for today. This new one there." With interest Palpatine sensed the sudden sorrows and fear which overcame the old man.

Apprentice and Master followed the new initiated young man in a short distance. The little group climbed some hills and was walking slowly over a plateau with high grass. Suddenly the Sith Lord pointed at the man walking at the top of the group and said: "This is yours." It needs a moment until Palpatine understand what his master was demanding.

To long. The young man turned in anger. His right hand morphed into a halfmoon-shaped blade while the left hand became a small circular shield. Without to hesitate he begun to attacking Gorgeon. The hunter was a nimble and fast fighter but could hardly hold the stand against a Sith Lord - even without his light sabre. Palpatine stud spellbound.

"Caution!" The hissed warning of his master and the rustling in the grass behind him reached at the same time his ears. Another brass-coloured figure. A woman crying loud in disgust. Instinctively Palpatine tried catching her and to pin down at the ground. Waves of pain flooded his brain, his body. He felt not only her struggle against his hard grip, her body shaken by the alternating of cries and sobs, her fast beating heart, he was also involved into her grief. Clinched at the ground in this strange connection both saw the Lord at least managed to shatter his attacker.

The woman surrendered, only sobbing from time to time. Palpatine felt how the waves of pain became less

frequent. Then he released her. She headed to keel aside the corpse. Above the painful pair at the ground met the eyes of the two Sith. The master made a inviting gesture. Palpatines gaze lowered to the bend neck and shoulders of the lamenting woman. A hot, animal kind of sympathy run trough him. He could only shake his head and say voiceless: "No. I can’t do that."

"Good. We will find another possibility for you." After a silent examination Lord Gorgeon continued with his normal stating tune " Maybe I’m wrong and you’re not mature enough for that. Follow me, my apprentice. We haven’t finished yet the visit of the historical sites of the Sith order."

The other day was their day of departure. Palpatine went restless around the main building of the space port. From a group of miners, waiting for their space craft, one person detached and blocked Palpatines way. The brass-coloured woman. "I owe you my life." And with a kindly look she reached out her hand. Palpatine wasn’t surprised by the fact that the more skilled ones of this primitive folk tried their fortune far from their home planet, but he was really astonished of the waves of dignity and intelligence step by step overwhelm him. He examined the face of the women, but the thick skin like the covering of a machine’s cloaking all personality of the features as well as her thoughts. This was interesting! Palpatine was glad to have the chance to touch one of these brass-coloured people again in a more relaxed situation. He was keen if he will be able to read the mind of this woman if he ...

"You will not put your hands at him." His masters deep voice let Palpatine step aside. The woman shrugged the shoulders, took her hand back and was scratching her left breast under the shabby overall of the mining company she wore. "Don’t panic, I will not take your" with a knowingly grin "treasure away, grandmaster." A nod to Palpatine "Could be, we’ll met in the future, my master." Then she go back to the other miners, which all ready have started to passing round a bottle.

Palpatine took a deep breath. This capter of his apprenticeship was closed. He had done it. His master couldn’t be disappointed any longer. With settled mind the young man turned and chose the shortest way home.

After a long bath Palpatine roamed idly his apartment while rubbing his wet hair with a dark blue cloth. He stopped in front of a large mirror. Should there really be no trace of the died ...? With a half smile about his silly idea he lowered his arms and examined the silent counterpart in the mirror. Nothing. The naked body. Nothing. The eyes. Nothing. He listened inside of himself. Nothing. Only calmness. Not the faintest echo of a bloody corpse in a nameless ally. But the glimpse of a thought, that blue would be very suitable for him. What?! With oddly amazement he turned the cloth in his hands. Not wrong at all ... it IS a nice colour ... He hardly cared for bodily beauty or outer appearance for years. And the first usage of the Force to kill a human had open his eyes for how to dress? This is the result?! This is too weird! Madly laughter Palpatine turned and went to the bath to finish his grooming.

A week had passed since the young Palpatine had killed the would-be thief. However, no mention of his death had been seen. Lord Gorgeon must have made good on his promise to dispose of the body. Palpatine was pleased with this, yet he wondered what he would do when the time came for him to dispose of his own "leftovers". Well, he thought, perhaps he'd worry about that when the time came for it.

Meanwhile he'd suffered no pangs of remorse. When he had contemplated the attack and its aftermath, he dwelt on the ease with which he'd dealt with the larger, heavier man, and the emotional consequences, which had been mostly... satisfaction. He had done this thing, an act of violence with fatal conclusions, and yet... none of his contemporaries had seen the difference in him. This was good.

And so it was that the young Palpatine was ruminating upon his mastery of appearing rational and peaceful, and yet capable of violence, that he was again accosted. This time, the consequences were far different.

As on the first occasion, he was walking home alone. Night had fallen, and the birds were quiet, but Palpatine's mind was not on his surroundings. He was remembering his first kill, and how good it had felt, and how easy it had seemed. The immense, heady flush the power had given him then was intoxicating, and he wanted to feel it again. He relived the event in his mind, walking along the streets, managing to avoid the light traffic present at this hour. He continued on his walk, slowing as he neared a small park. Another thief; that's what he needed. Repeating that experience would be so pleasant...

Without warning a figure stepped from behind a tree, clad in form-fitting clothes of brown and grey. The stream which gurgled nearby had obscured the sounds of his entrance, but nothing could disguise the Darkness of his Force-signature. Another Sith? Palpatine wrestled in vain with the perception. This man was not dressed like his master, and did not move as he had seen his master move. And he did not... feel... as his master did. The burly man stepped forward to block Palpatine's path.

"Who are you?!" Palpatine barked, his fear granting his voice greater volume. He stood his ground, as he had been taught; his right hand found the grip of the light sabre his master had given him.

The figure in brown said nothing, but wordlessly drew forth from his own clothing... a stick. A wooden stick, about three feet long; the man gripped it as one would hold a 'sabre, but instead of holding it up before him, he let its point rest a few inches above the ground, near his feet.

Palpatine could have sang for joy, if he had not found the man's appearance so disconcerting. His light sabre was ignited in an instant, and in a flashing red arc he brought it down upon the man's head.

Something changed, then, and faster than the young Palpatine could react. The wooden stick blurred up and around, striking the grip of Palpatine's weapon directly between his hands with a resounding thwack. Palpatine's hands stung, but he retained his grip, astonished. The wooden stick couldn't parry his light sabre blade; the light sabre would simply cut through it. But his attacker had delivered the parry to the weapon's grip, instead. Once he had parried, the man in brown had resumed his stance, the stick's end pointing toward the ground.

Palpatine studied the stance, trying to understand why it had seemed so deceptively indefensible. But before he had had much time to think of this, the larger man strode forward and swung, directing his stick at Palpatine's right midsection. As Palaptine made an attempt to parry, however, the stick reversed its motion and landed a shocking blow against the young man's ribs.

Palpatine crumpled against the force of the blow. His self-confidence had left him, and in its place, he wondered if his master would find him and avenge his death. The brown-clad fighter towered over him, and Palpatine looked in vain for his weapon, which he had lost as he fell. The larger man moved his stick few inches away from him, then slapped it sharply against Palpatine's shin. Palpatine sucked in his breath, but maintained his silence. He would give his tormentor as little satisfaction as possible.

"Given up already, have you?" Palpatine looked up in alarm at the masked face of his attacker, recognising the voice of Lord Gorgeon.

"Look at you! You've been defeated by a stick... and by your own inability to stay focused on the moment,"

Gorgeon rasped, his whisper sharp and cutting. "First, you came out here, bloated with your own prowess. Then, when you encounter resistance -- when things don't go as you planned -- you fail to employ your best weapon: your mind."

Gorgeon straightened up and stood now at his full height; he had concealed himself, in part, by altering his

posture so as to appear shorter than he was. He stepped around the thunderstruck Palpatine and poked about in the grass for a moment. A few seconds later, the familiar handle of Palpatine's weapon lay near the young man's feet.

Palpatine shifted his weight painfully. He was magnificently bruised from the sound beating his master had given him but the pain of the body was nothing compared to his agony on the inside. How could have he been so stupid? A child would behave like that, not a Sith apprentice who had not only his political career to think about, but also the continuation and more importantly the secrecy of his order to worry. The shock and humiliation of the defeat had been like a bucketful of cold water over his pride and arrogance. His master had been acting coldly and had hardly spoken to him, except for the few and select words with which he had made quite clear what he thought about adolescent idiots running around the city showing off their powers. The body of the thief might have been disposed of, but not so permanently that it couldn’t be brought back as a lesson of responsibility. And if Palpatine thought he was irreplaceable then he was wrong. It wasn’t that hard to find a new apprentice who would take his training seriously instead of fooling around. Palpatine had his suspicions about that, the Jedi were quick on adopting the Force-sensitive babies and ever since Palpatine had learned how to test someone’s Force abilities he had often amused himself by scanning the people. There were not many unfound talents out there. But he kept his mouth closed and let the scolding wash over him.

Limping after his master with his tail between his legs Palpatine had swore to himself that this would never

happen again. He would never let his emotions get control again. Never. And what had been his excuse?

Pleasure. He had risked his future for a moment of pleasure. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had been so furious at himself (and still was, he had to fight the urge to shout out loud his frustration until he realised he was letting his emotions rule him again and forced himself to calm down) he had wanted to plunge his light sabre through his stomach as an example to himself. He had always been secretly proud of his self-control and focus and he had always put himself above everyone else for not chasing the simple pleasures of life, and what had happened? He was no better than those young men he knew who spent their days talking about last week’s party or victory in the war between sexes or planning the next one. He had always despised them and now he was like them. Maybe his pleasure was killing instead of woman’s embrace, but that was beside the point.

Palpatine grimaced and shifted again. He could have had called in sick instead of attending this long City Council meeting about organising the annual spring parade, but had thought it as a suitable punishment for himself. He knew well that this was not the end of his punishments, his master was sure to think about something. He was pretty certain that Gorgeon wasn’t going to actually kill him, because why else would he still be sitting here alive and aching? He pressed his throbbing ribs and sighed. A lesson well learned and sure to be remembered, he thought. This was never going to happen to him again. Absolutely never.

Gorgeon, resting in his modest home, slowly stripped off his brown leather gloves and laid them carefully upon a shelf, contemplating his student's response to tonight's lesson. He had considered withholding it, but his pupil's attention had been wandering of late. True, there were many young men whose focus and concentration were hardly Palpatine's equal, but that was beside the point. Palpatine could do better, and so Gorgeon considered it proper to urge him on.

It wasn't likely that Palpatine's all-too-human reactions to his current situation were likely to cause him any sort of loss, personal or political. His position was reasonably strong; Palpatine was viewed as a moderate, with certain tendencies toward both reform and compromise. He was unlikely to make many enemies. Nevertheless, his ruminations concerned his master.

Gorgeon had seen what the consequences of allowing one's mind to wander could be. If the danger was sudden, the mental wanderer could be killed (as Gorgeon had been at pains to remind his student!); if the wanderer did not draw himself or herself back to the present, to reality, and most of all, to the goal at hand -- that goal stood in jeopardy. Physical safety was always a consideration for the Sith; Gorgeon had spent ten minutes in full concentration before determining that his house was empty save himself. For that matter, a Sith's safety also depended upon the ability of that Sith, as well as all others', to maintain their secrecy.

All of that took focus. Gorgeon tugged at the brown and grey cloak, having placed in a corner the relatively short stick he had used on his pupil. He finally succeeded at removing the rather cumbersome garment, and allowed it to fall to the floor. He knew he had done the boy no serious harm, but the knot he'd left on his shin would be one he'd remember.

Lord Gorgeon stepped over to a massive carved desk, pulled out its equally massive (and carved) chair, and sat down to remove his boots. He stopped momentarily, searching through the Force for his student. As Gorgeon listened, he heard the young man as Palpatine finally came to grips with his own anger at himself, as Palpatine repeatedly resolved to never allow such a thing to happen again. Gorgeon nearly intervened when he heard the student thinking about what sounded like suicide, but Gorgeon knew Palpatine better than that. Sure enough, his apprentice recovered himself nicely from self-imposed diatribe. Gorgeon was pleased, and, smiling, pulled off his black boots. All that was now necessary for his evening to be complete was a hot bath. Truly, he had found an excellent apprentice - and he had stolen him out from under the noses of those hypocritical Jedi!

”Is this safe, Master?” Palpatine was staring at the wonders of Coruscant stretching from horizon to horizon from the window of the small spaceship Gorgeon was steering towards a landing area. ”The most powerful Jedi live here.”

Gorgeon landed the craft expertly and lowered the ramp. A couple of droids hurried to them to take care of the formalities involved in interplanetary travelling. ”In time, apprentice, you will learn how wonderful device the mind can be. If it believes something to be impossible, it will continue to do so even if the said impossibility would stand right in front of its nose. Besides, there is absolutely no better place to practice being inconspicuous than this. Just stay close to me.” He nodded at the droids, counted his children and started towards the rented aircraft that was there to take them to their lodgings. Palpatine, carrying his master’s youngest child who had finally fell asleep exhausted after a lot of sleeve-tugging and pointing, hurried after him. Gorgeon had taken his family for a holiday trip to the see the sights of the capital of the Republic and Palpatine had been taken along as a sort of an extension to the family.

The senate filled Palpatine with awe. THIS was where the real power was, where the destiny of the entire galaxy was decided. He drank in the busy and important atmosphere and the power lingering all around him. He admired how everyone seemed to know their purpose in the whole affair, how even the smallest cleaning droid seemed to be faintly smug because it knew it was a part of something important. He listened the guide carefully, asking a myriad of questions. Gorgeon kept smiling to himself.

Finally they had to stop to rest, the children were getting tired and hungry. They sat down on a windowsill in a long corridor, and Gorgeon’s wife went to look for something to eat. For the obscure reasons clear to very young children alone Gorgeon’s youngest had chosen Palpatine to have the best lap in the world and she was now busily climbing into it. Palpatine picked her up absently, his mind was still occupied with the senate. He was jerked back to reality when a group of noisy children ran into the corridor. He looked at the children’s similar clothing and wondered idly about it until he sensed and saw a couple of Jedi walking round the corner. Palpatine eyed the Jedi warily, then looked at the little girl in his lap and the group of Jedi kids.

”What, those kids? No, no they don’t. They know not of other life than that of a Jedi’s.” Gorgeon looked at them too, quietly fortifying his mental barriers and stretching them to cover Palpatine as well. ”The Jedi have established a good way of controlling the galaxy. By adopting all the Force-sensitive babies they ensure that there will not be much room for any opposing opinions.”

”Ah, here we have an excellent opportunity to study the power of the words and beliefs.” Gorgeon smiled at his apprentice’s perplexed expression. ”The Jedi won the war, and therefore wrote the history. They claim to be the guardians of ‘Good’ against the ‘Evil’, whatever those are. The words Light and Dark are only descriptions of the presence or absence of the physical light, not definition of anyone’s moral standards. But the Jedi had their chance of defining those words in a way that suited them, and now they can pretty much do what they want in the name of the Good. The parents have to believe that it’s true, because otherwise what would they be, giving up their children? The Jedi have been saying that for so long than that is what everyone believes. But with the right words in the right place you can change the history. Words like ‘crime’ and ‘justice’, for example. History is only what you write it to be. ”

Palpatine leaned against the wall lost in thought. His choice of a career seemed right to him, this was where he wanted to be. This was the best place to pursue his ambitions, and ‘to speak the right words in the right place’. It would take time, he hadn’t noticed any of the senators being particularly young, but time was something he had plenty of. Time and ambition.

Palpatines thoughts shifted back ... Well, time could wasted. And to be honest, he had this tendency too ... the last fight with his master ... and at the same day ...

He absolved the City Council meeting in a astonishingly good countenance. He was even able to relax the debate two or three times, when it was short before turn into a chaos. Since the latest tumults about bribery in the senate, more and more often the discussion became driven by emotions. The young delegate had noticed this imperceptible evolution with rising annoyance. But he had also taught to stifle this also emotion-loaded, instinctive reaction and to look at the fact that the members of the senate lost their temper as a chance for improve his own position. The position of a rock amidst the howling sea. But a sympathetic rock. A moderator. And he would never again use a mental command to shut up senseless babbling mouths. Only if necessary.

The evening would bring another possibility for self punishment - a soirée. Even years after following the first orders of his master - to broaden his social skills - it was not easy for Palpatine to attending such a event. The gain of new or refreshed connections hardly outweighed the suffering by the ordinary.

Neatly dressed in the dark blues he recently discovered as very suitable, Palpatine went downstairs into the hall of the house were the soirée was held. And was suddenly emersed into a slowly undulating sea of smal ltalk.

While avoiding the too overcrowded places of the soirée Palpatine gazed a lean young man with a sharp, ascetic face. He wore the uniform of a captain. Palpatine stepped nearer. A remembrance. He should know him ...

”And I see you have made your dream come true. You´re a high-ranking officer.”

”Not so high at all.” Tarkin declined. ”I’m an aid. Amazing, you kept in memory our childhood dreams? I not. But let me try ... I guess, you must have to do something with politics ...”

Palpatine has no need to use the force to know he has breaking the ice - in the eyes of his vis-a-vis shined interest. Step after step the picture was revealed: Takin was the intellectual in the staff of his general. And like Palpatine he felt lone and a bit like wasting his talents for ignorant idiots. But there was also a great difference between the former classmates. The young officer followed a materialistic road, not touched by the spiritual world. He would made his way with focus on his work. As every specialist hard to lead if you try to tread him with ideologies. However, at the moment he was searching for some support. Every help for his ambitious technical projects were welcome.

And because Palpatine was sure - according to the teachings of his Sith Master - to have a companion amongst the military force of the republic was a investment for the future, the talk ended in mutual satisfaction and with a invitation for Palpatine to visit the deep space base of the detachment Tarkin belongs to.

Until this point he had not wasting his time. And, could it be a sin to be in elated mood about the unexpected turn of fortune which offered him a interesting new connection?

Yes, this would become a good, a strong connection. Because Tarkin and he were too different to compete which each other - military power and civil power, material force and spiritual force - it could develop to a synergetic partnership. And - as far as he could forecast it - the young officer would made a great carreer.

The young man leaning against the wall in Coruscant took deep breath and decided to follow the line of thoughts further.

He had roamed some halls, rooms and chambers. Lost in thoughts. Well, what should happened ...?

”Palpatine!”

He awoke from his pondering and found the crowd were dispersed. He was alone in a room with a women. She has calling him. He frowned ...

”Don’t you remember? We were at the same university!”

Of course he remember. Now. She was the not so intelligent party queen he had met occasionally. Mostly at parties. The one which had once be a patient listener to his monologues. With amazement he sensed her simple happiness to find him. And she was still the living daydream.

”How are you? You looks very good! They told your'e a young but popular council member. And I’m happy to find you at this soirée just to say you: congratulation and have good luck!”

Before he could hinder her, she took his hand an pressed it hearty. The stabbing pain made him shrinking back, only to let him paled for the pain also radiated from the injured ribs.

”What is with you?”

”Nothing. Really nothing. Only a little accident this morning.”

”It is your wrist, isn’t it?”

Even in concern her eyes were beautiful ... Again with amazement he sensed her simple and plain emotions. She like him?!

”I’m fine!!” For a moment Palpatine took into account to use the force to send her away.

Now it was the woman, who shrieked back and looked bewildered at the result of her pure wish to help. With a sort of slight shock she realised: ‘Still in the mid-twenties and has never be together with a woman ...' A warm empathy suddenly rose in her. She felt mature and a instinct of guard him awoke. She don’t know that the Sith read her mind. She detected no trace of the young mans rising uneasiness. She reached out a hand and caressed his cheek, the side of his face, his hair.

Palpatine wavered between following his first decision to end abruptly such a intimate situation and the sensations to be attractive for her cause inside of him. At least he ends up with the thought from after the lost fight, to be nothing more than this stupid, hormone-driven young mans. And if so, would to have sex not be better than to decide suicide? Palpatine gave up his stiff posture. With this once made choice he felt partially his mind became clearer. He took the challenge to find out how far he could trust in the instincts and intelligence of his body without lost complete control of his mind. And she was harmless - physically and mentally.

Abruptly the woman loosened herself. Turned the head to one of the doors. Steps? Damn, unwelcome visitor! Again Palpatine decided not to use the Force. Let transfer the kindness of his face to his voice and flavoured the one word he spoke with a undertone of helplessness: ”Please.” Jet before she turned her head, he know he succeeded.

***

The young man leaned against the wall in Coruscant smiled: Only one or two times they were interrupted, listening in tight embrace and with hold in breath to the fading sound of steps.

Then Palpatine was abruptly brought back to reality from the call of his master "Palpatine, we have to go."

chemist

Gorgeon's call was closely followed by the man himself. He stepped quietly up to Palpatine, his deep brown robes making no sound, his dark, lined face impassively studying his pupil's. He needed to know how his student was faring.

Lord Gorgeon's wife and children were only a hundred yards away, peacefully enjoying the remains of a light snack. While at the table with them, Gorgeon had sipped his hot beverage, enjoying their company, but not forgetting to keep them all well shielded, including Palpatine. His student's shields weren't bad, but they were not up to preventing a Jedi from recognising his training. And if a Jedi saw Palpatine, and recognised by Palpatine's focus that he had been trained, there was grave danger. Only two factions trained in the Force -- the Jedi, and the Sith. The Sith, while rumoured extinct, were the only option possible when one encountered an obvious student who was not known to the Jedi Council, unless one entertained the possibility of a rogue Jedi. (Most knights preferred not to consider that, for it meant betrayal from within.)

Gorgeon, having walked away to retrieve his student, did not worry for the safety of his wife or children. His wife was quite well trained herself, and more than able to cover for the two small ones, whose burgeoning talents would likely become her responsibility. But hiding was a speciality of hers, and right now she used it to great effect. Gorgeon himself would have to remember where they were sitting, because he could not trace them through the Force, so ordinary did they seem.

His student, however, was another matter. While Palpatine's aura did not exactly scream for attention, neither did it blend into the background. It had slipped further, Gorgeon knew, when the young man had become... distracted. Gorgeon sighed, striding forward. More training. Perhaps his wife, Sasha, could help teach his pupil. After all, it was her greatest strength.

The sight of Gorgeon brought Palpatine back to the present abruptly, and Gorgeon felt his student's shields tighten. Ah, that was gratifying. He studied the young man's face for a moment, and led the way back.

saphsaq

"Master, may I have a look at the city from the top of the roof?"

Lord Gorgeon smiled at his apprentices question "Of course, your first night in Corouscant ... If you not had asked, I would have command you. Let me see," He examined the room "every thing is prepared. So I have no further orders for today. Go, my apprentice, it is a very impressing sight."

Palpatine took one of the express-lifts. With every stop - ... level 600, level 700, level 800 ... - the lift became emptier. As he reached the roof-top level, Palpatine was nearly alone. Only two service-technicians left the lift together with him and vanished fast in the labyrinthine roof-construction. Because of this maze he had a hard time to find a appropriate place to watch the nightly city.

Than, turning around a last corner, passing under a last cable-bridge, it was spread out in front of him! Abrupt pleasant vertigo made Palpatine stepping back. It WAS impressive ... The first thing he saw, was the light. Countless lights-spots in every nuance between white and yellow. Some static - at the buildings, some moving - in the traffic. After a moment he was able to discern details: Despite the all over all artificial lights, the fading sun run glowing reflexes over the glass and metal facades. And the lasers. Their colourful rays relaxed the hard contrasts of the monochrome scene. From time to time a blast of wind placed some water of condensation from air-condition-systems in the way of the laser-beams. Than the straight line of light was scattered into tiny blinking pieces.

The building Palpatine stand on, wasn’t the highest, but high enough, to run a cold flash down the young mans spine, as he realised there was no vertical nor horizontal end of the "streets". Like canyons their ground became blurred by a blue dust. Palpatine gazed above to the grave but unstoppable running traffic. The vertigo was gone.

Than he felt the well known fear, sweet and compelling. The criss-crossing thoughts, the decision-making stopped. He mustn’t turn the glance, Bogan was there. "How do you like it?" He was encouragingly touched and suddenly Palpatine detected aside the lights the other life-signs of the city-planet. Jets of different tempered air hit his face. Waves of smell and noise throughout the gaps between the buildings washed over him. He sensed the minute movements the house they stud on made, to keep balance.

"It is too funny. The lights are so tiny but I can hear some of the peoples voices really clear. Its like looking into a doll’s house." As Bogan took his hand back, Palpatine turned fast. The black hooded figure pointed at the city. "If you think so, the city will be yours."

"Is that all? ... All for me?" Palpatine neglect the stressed "think". He felt suddenly without beaming, without enthralment. "Who had laid out this plan for me?! Which game is this?!!"

"To be an emperor, shall be enough for you." In the silvery eyes of Bogan was nothing except seriousness. No disdain, no maliciousness. He buried the hands in the sleeves. "It is always nice to see, a Sith will demand an explanation instead of the silent obedience of a Jedi." Bogan tilted the head - the first human gesture of him I ever saw, Palpatine thought, while a sudden weakness let dropping him on his knees. "There is more up to your own power than you expect, Palpatine. However, as long as you prefer to stay at a high building and looking down at the city, you’re wasting a part of your talents to embrace the Dark Side." Palpatine felt the metallic stale taste of blood. "I will not become only a emperor!" He hoped he uttered the words clearly, but wasn’t sure, maybe they were only thoughts. Nearly unconscious Palpatine sunk at the side into the puddle of blood streaming from his mouth.

The next face he saw, was his master bend over him. "It was Bogan, my master."

"I know."

"He told me I would become a emperor."

How nice. But now be silent. You will be soon at a secure place."

"And he told me, I’m afraid of the life, like the Jedi!"

"Enough! Don’t even try to whisper." After a impatient sigh the Sith Lord added ironical "I’m sure, that wasn’t meant you have to have orgies."

The secure place his master had in mind, was a hospital. Palpatine shared the room with a humanoid boy, probably ten to twelve years younger then he. And Palpatine felt grateful for his master managed this. Any other race or age would have drive him crazy. Crazy because of his fear to fail with his skills to read and manipulate a mind. To hide his Sith identity. The boy was a Jedi apprentice.

The boy followed Palpatines trouble to sat upright in the bed with curiosity, than he introduces himself "You can call me Hom. And what is your name?"

Good, maybe, we should stay at this informal level. "Mine is Cos."

"Glad to meet you, Cos. Why are you here?"

"A haemorrhage, a collapse. And you, Hom? You look healthy ..."

"I recovering after a intoxication. It was a accident happening while maintaining a combustion chamber of a space ship."

I see. It is no recovering, only a short and unstable high. "So young and maintaining space ships ... Will you become a ship builder?"

"A Jedi knight!" The light grey eyes of the young boy became even lighter. Conspiratorially he bend toward Palpatine. "Look. The doc is telling I should avoid draught, but what is wrong with fresh air?" He gestured vaguely against the window. It opened.

"Ah, I see, the Force."

"You perceive it?! You know the Force?"

Damn curiosity. "No, not really. In, ahm, my family was - generations ago - access to the Force. Maybe I have some remains."

"So? This would be a explanation. I felt there is something strange as they brought you to this room, you know?" To underline his discovery, the boy nodded. "The man who came with you, belongs he to your family? He’s really nice for a non-noble half-cast."

"Watch your words, Hom. It needs no nobleness of birth and pure breed to be nice. He is my mentor. A respected senates man. Like me."

"I apologise." The boy managed a sheepish grin "I’m bad at tranquillity, still a Jedi apprentice."

"And an apprentice of obedience."

"Obedience? Ah, I see, the window. Is it too cold? Sorry again, I’ll close it immediately."

"Thank you. Say, what is with your family? Will your parents visit you?" Now my little ice-prince will tell me right-way he is a orphan.

”No, they won’t come. I see them seldom. I left home with five."

No orphan? "So early. It must have been hard for your family. Did they not protest?"

"No. Why? It is a honour to become a Jedi! Only few are talented enough. And even with talent it is a way of hard working. At the end I will guard the ..." The boy sat upright in his bed and stared bewildered at Palpatine.

Maybe I can give you some more to doubt about. "And what is, if you will not recovering? If you die."

The boy laid back and pulled the cover up to his chin. Defiantly watching the ceiling he confessed, nearly voiceless: "Than I’m hoping, I have done my duty proper. If so, nothing is loosed. I will become a good example for the others."

That shall do for today. "Oh, sorry for that, Hom. I won’t you upset. Maybe this bad mood comes from my collapse. Better we talk about the Jedi. It is a order, isn’t it? I’m sure you are a expert in the knight code ..."

Sith Lady

See the planet and its satellites. Focus down until after the blur of the clouds you see a beautiful city and a lit palace. Past the hallways, past empty rooms, to the throne room…

The king of Naboo was a man who liked ceremonies. They made him feel secure, that there was some continuity in the uncertain world. Receptions he disliked, however, but they were a part of the job he couldn’t avoid. He sat down on his throne and looked at the people milling around the in the vast room, chatting amiably with each other. The cream of Naboo society celebrated its new government. The previous had resigned after a messy bribery scandal. The new government had been appointed today, in a long and solemn ceremony. The king scanned idly the crowd. Politicians in their ceremonial robes, diplomats in their evening dresses, their spouses, aides, relatives, jewellery, furs, expensive materials… Everyone who were someone were here tonight. The king stopped to look at a quite handsome young man discussing with a small group of Alderaanian diplomats.

Remarkable, that, he thought. The young man, what was his name again, Palpatine he thought it was, was an aide to the king’s new Minister of Agriculture. A remarkable position, given his age. Not a very powerful job in a political sense, but the king had not heard of anyone else getting such a job at such a young age. The king took a thoughtful sip from his glass. He was not a fool, you didn’t get to be a king, at least an elected king if you were a fool, and so it was obvious to him that there was a great deal more to this man than first met the eye.

Behind Palpatine’s seemingly open face, behind the polite and measured manner was an observant mind and sharp intellect and enough certainty and self-confidence to, whenever he slipped and accidentally let it show, make older men uneasy and somehow feel inadequate. He seemed to notice everything, analyse it and store it away for further use. The king recognised himself in the young man, who suddenly turned around, as if he had felt the king’s gaze upon him, raised his glass in a small salute and bowed. The king inclined his head raising his own glass in response. A man to be watched, he thought.

Doj was a proud man. He shouldn’t have been, it was a major flaw in his character for he was a Jedi, and pride was something he really should overcome. But he had only recently passed his Trials and now he was standing in the royal palace, in the throne room, and as if this was not enough, in the presence of the king himself. He had never been this close to an actual king before. He felt important, like a real professional, standing here in his brand new robe, his light sabre hanging from the loop on his belt (He had carefully placed it so that everyone would see it while it looked like he hadn’t really thought about it at all) and a serene look on his face (He had practised it in front of a mirror. This was how he felt a Jedi should look like and he’d be damned if he didn’t even try to look like a proper Jedi. He was also painfully aware that this was not how a Jedi should think and behave, but he was only a young man and sometimes couldn’t help himself). His carefully honed serenity was threatening to crack, however. He had been sensing some weird disturbances in the flow of the Force, like a big rock in a river, causing the stream to swirl and flow around it making unpredicted shapes in the surface. If only he could concentrate on it. But he could see the distraction only at the corner of his eye, flicking in and out of his vision, fleeing every time he tried to face it directly. The bloody thing kept slipping from his grip, mocking him and giving him the mother of all headaches. It was like having a particularly annoying berry pip stuck between the teeth. He put his pride aside and wished his Master would be here. Finally, after a tremendous effort he managed to focus enough to centre the origin of the distraction in a young man toasting with the king. Doj stared at him, slightly cross-eyed. He sensed a subtle wrongness in the man, but when he tried to probe him further the slippery feeling returned so strong it made sudden waves of nausea wash over him. He withdrew his mind quickly, fighting the urge to run out and puke his guts out.

The young man turned to look at the Jedi curiously, narrowing his eyes at him. Suddenly a smile spread across his face and he nodded and raised his glass in a mock salute, a gesture that inexplicably made Doj very nervous indeed. Probably just an unfound Force-sensitive, he told himself and then thought how the man seemed to be too much in control of his talents. An unfound Force-sensitive playing with the Dark Side. Nothing to worry about. Someone should tell him how dangerous it can be, he thought virtuously, but not him. Not today, at least, he chided himself for his un-Jedi thoughts. His head was throbbing too badly to do anything. He decided to find his uncle, excuse himself and flee home to see if he could remove the red-hot six-inch nail someone had cruelly hammered through his head. Still, the unknown young man intrigued him. Someone to be watched, Doj thought.

Arona Kedan, The Minister of Agriculture of Naboo, a happy if currently slightly drunk man, grabbed his aide by the elbow in mid-toast and guided him to meet some of the most interesting people of the reception. He was proud of his new aide, young Palpatine seemed to possess all the good abilities a political aide was ever thought to have, topped with a huge amount of ambition. Yet the young man was careful never to appear anything more than a respectful employee, always listening and learning. Always questioning and finding reasons. Kedan was sure that with such a treasure at his disposal he would yet make something big of himself. The thought made him beam. He made his way to a group of serious-looking politicians at the corner of the hall, his aide trailing behind him.

”Ah, here you are,” Kedan said. ”I want you to meet my aide. Palpatine, these colleagues here are the Minister of Defence, the Prime Minister and the captain of the palace guard.”

They exchanged nods.

”So this is the young man we’ve been hearing so much about,” said the PM.

”My word, yes. Our esteemed colleague here has certainly let everyone know about his strike of good fortune.”

The Minister of Defence was an elderly lady with a mass of wildly curled hair and a refined taste for clothing.

”You should be careful, Kedan, or someday you will find yourself without an aide.”

The PM patted Palpatine vaguely on the shoulder.

”Don’t mind us, we’re old and boring. The future is with the young, eh?”

Palpatine smiled. ”Oh, yes,” he said. ”I am the future. If you’ll excuse me…?”

The Minister of Agriculture watched his aide vanish into the partying crowd. He wasn’t sure why exactly he had hired the young man, but there obviously was something exceptional in him. The Minister smiled to himself. Young Palpatine was a man to be watched.

Chemist

Gorgeon raised his glass halfway to his lips, then held it there, studying his student's face. Palpatine's features were very slightly reddened; the effect, Gorgeon realised, of the alcohol they shared. Then he drank, considering his words.

"You did quite well the other night," he said, smiling and lowering his glass. "In fact, I believe that at some point you had nearly everyone's attention." Gorgeon leaned back a bit in the heavy wooden chair and watched for Palpatine's reaction to the praise.

Palpatine, however, had learned not to allow praise to go to his head -- or at least, not to allow it to appear to have done so. He beamed momentarily, canting his head a bit to one side, but then his smile reduced its intensity and Palpatine took a small swallow of the wine. "Thank you," he replied courteously. "I knew your advice regarding circulation and observation was sound. It was a pleasure."

Gorgeon observed the younger man's response with a gentle smile on his face, but with a critical eye. Clearly his pupil was learning! Palpatine betrayed neither desire nor repulsion for the tasks he had performed; this would protect him from others' manipulations.

"You have also learned to recognise when someone is paying too much attention to you," Gorgeon remarked casually. "And to insinuate yourself into another's attentions. Be careful with those things, boy, and don't move too quickly." Lord Gorgeon stroked the stem of his wineglass idly, the picture of inattentiveness. He knew that Palpatine would not be deceived by the mere image he presented.

Now it was Palpatine's turn to study his glass. His master was not telling him something, and the omission was galling. "I don't think any of the Ministers found me too forward, My Lord," he began, somewhat defensively. "I seem to have gotten on quite well with all of them."

"Yes. So you did," Gorgeon replied. "In fact, you did so well that I'm almost willing to believe that the Jedi on whom you inflicted that little headache might forget you. I don't think he will, though, no matter how well everyone else speaks of you." Gorgeon's voice had dropped to a near whisper. "You are not yet the powerful beast who can do as it pleases, fearing the contempt or wrath of no other. Remember this," he warned. "We are still few in number. That young fool whose sinuses you squeezed has entirely too many... friends." Gorgeon nearly spit out the last word. "There are other ways of deflecting a probe. We'll make sure you are proficient in their use." Gorgeon drained his glass.

Palpatine listened, dumbstruck, though forcing his features to remain impassive. He had expected his master to be proud of him, not critical... this time. He had been promoted, and had conducted himself at the party flawlessly. Well, almost flawlessly. He stared into the deep red in his wineglass. "Of course, master," he replied, complelling his voice to remain clear and raising his eyes to meet his teacher's.

Gorgeon smiled again, appreciating Palpatine's courage and determination. "Good," he rumbled. "And... congratulations. You're doing quite well, you know. Many students don't survive nearly as long as you have." Gorgeon picked up the bottle, refilled his glass as well as his student's, and then replaced its cork. He then selected a small piece of cheese from the tray before him, noting the utter absence of shock on Palpatine's face. *He IS good*, Gorgeon thought. *But then, he'd better be. Both our lives may depend on it.*

Palpatine heard both the warnings as well as the praise, and considered them to be, after all, what he expected. His master was a perfectionist, and he knew it. But he *had* done well, by any standards... Palpatine extended his hand and took a piece of cheese, as his master had done. He was confident that Lord Gorgeon's teaching would enable him to prevent any further prying by the next juvenile Jedi. And that was an important talent to have. Palpatine's rapacious desire for knowledge was, in many ways, well matched by Lord Gorgeon's wish that he be competent at nearly everything to do with the Force, and for that Palpatine was grateful. He nodded at Gorgeon, smiling, as he sipped at his wine.

Sith Lady

Of course Palpatine had recognised the young Padawan, and of course the Padawan had recognised Palpatine. They had almost bumped into each other in one of the long corridors of the royal palace, Palpatine running one of his numerous errands, the Padawan hurrying after his Master who was a member of a small delegation from Coruscant. They stared at each other for a moment, blinking, but had no time to talk. Palpatine went on his way with a frown on his face.

So the Padawan he had met in Coruscant was visiting Naboo. The boy had changed since the time at the hospital. His eyes weren’t so overly innocent anymore and most his youthful idealism seemed to be forgotten. Was it Palpatine’s doing? Their conversation had been long and the outcome hadn’t been much in the favour of the young Padawan. Their time together had ended with the boy’s Master moving her apprentice into another room, casting accusing and suspicious eyes at Palpatine. The training bond was a bugger.

The next day the Padawan went in search of Palpatine and found him working inside one of the palace’s archive vaults. He marched to Palpatine and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Hello. You remember me?’

‘Yes I do. You were at the hospital with me. Hom, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ The young man’s smile was a bit tight. ‘I have to talk to you.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Um. This is a bit difficult, but I just have to ask you this question. Why did you do this to me?’

‘Did what to you? All I remember is that we talked a little.’

Hom snapped. He began pacing restlessly. ‘A little!’ he cried. ‘Ever since our conversation my life has become more and more difficult. You and your words. ”What if you won’t become a Jedi?”’ he mimicked. ‘”How about your family?” Well, for your information the Jedi Order is my family! Why did you have to start questioning everything?’

Palpatine looked at him for a while, astonished. He found himself a chair and sat down leaning his chin on his hand. The Jedi stopped and pointed a shaky finger at Palpatine.

‘This is your fault! You put doubt in my mind! Because of you I can’t concentrate on my training, I can’t … I…’ His voice trailed off in the face of Palpatine’s polite disinterest. He gave a strangled cry and resumed his pacing.

Palpatine raised an eyebrow. ‘My fault?’ he asked mildly. ‘How can you blame me for what you think? Your thoughts are all your own. And so is your fear… Tell me how can you ever become a Jedi if you let your anger grow this strong and you blame other people for the fear that you have created yourself?’

The boy spun around his eyes blazing and a furious look on his face. He started to speak, but closed his mouth abruptly looking away and visibly trying to get control over himself. He took a deep breath and turned back shaking his head.

‘No.’ He said. ‘You’re right. I apologise for losing my temper and acting so rudely. I will be a Jedi,’ he added to himself. ‘This is just some sort of a test.’

Palpatine shrugged. ‘If you say so. But what if you fail this test?’

‘There you go again!’ Hom said and then paused, calming down again. ‘I guess I’ll have to train harder to understand the Force and the Code better,’ he said. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously he asked ,‘What would you care anyway? Just who are you?’

‘You know who I am.’ Palpatine said. ‘I’m Palpatine, the political aide to the Minister of Agriculture of Naboo and you’re Padawan Hom, a Jedi-in-training.’

‘That’s not what I meant. You ask too many questions. Who are you?’ The question was followed by a subtle Force inquiry.

Palpatine waved his hand elaborately, strengthening his shields ever so slightly. ‘I already told you,’ he said ‘But I’m afraid you still haven’t answered my question. What makes you, a Jedi apprentice for crying out loud, lose control over some words?’

Hom ran his fingers through his short hair. ‘Because I shouldn’t doubt. I shouldn’t question my lessons, the Jedi Code or the entire Order, and most definitely not the Light. Because I shouldn’t have to hide my thoughts from my Master. Because I shouldn’t be afraid, but I am. I am afraid, I do doubt, I’m angry at myself, at my Master, at the entire universe.’

Palpatine was taken aback by Hom’s intense reaction. ‘Ah. And fear and anger are not of the Light?’

‘Fear, anger and aggression leads to the Dark Side.’ Hom said absently and then blinked. ‘How come you know these things?’

‘Just read it from somewhere,’ Palpatine shrugged. ‘But still, they’re just normal human emotions. Why avoid them?’

‘Control is the essence of the Force. By controlling our emotions we gain control over the Force, thus becoming one with it and with the Universe, understanding it and living in peace with it and with the Universe.’

Palpatine rolled his eyes. ‘Then why do you carry light sabres?' he said. 'Aren’t they one of the most powerful weapons in the world? And what you are really saying is that the only way of becoming a Jedi is to suppress all your emotions. Death is a state without emotions. Are the Jedi afraid of life?’

Hom glared at Palpatine. ‘No. Of course not. We’re..’ Footsteps from behind interrupted him. It was a silvery serving droid, which had been sent to inform Palpatine that his presence was required at the Minister’s office. Palpatine rose from his chair.

‘I guess we’ll continue this conversation later?’ He said as he walked past the Padawan and out of the door. He was pretty sure the young Jedi hadn’t passed his shields, or found his arguments too obvious. And if he had… Palpatine shrugged mentally. There was an obvious solution for that problem.

Erik Böge

The aide found his minister in a mood he know too well. Kedan was passing solemn through his bureau, hands folded at his back, the shoulders bearing a imaginary burden. "Ah, here you are. We have a problem." The minister planted before his employee like a general visiting a army. Palpatine sketch a bow.

"You know about our negotiations with the government of Boryon. The agri-forming of the third plant in this planetarian system. Now they reject."

"ch´ Bho Ryo ´n athlan. The government reject?"

"Oh, no. Not directly the government of Bho Ryo ´n ... bloody language! Anyway, the government is not the real problem. They have no use of this planet. So the negotiations were easy - we sign last week the treaty and send it back for countersign. But an hour before I received THIS message." He presented a sheet.

Palpatine skimmed through the note. "I see, there are some local groups founding against the project." He shook his head slowly. "But this should not concern you, my minister. It is only a matter of time. As far as I know, the government is weak, but the local groups build also no strong movement. Their interests are too different, some against agri-forming and clones at all, some against evacuation, some just afraid of aliens. We have only to keep the good connections with the government while we wait until the flame of resistance is burning down. Shall I draft a note with our assurance of further interest in the project and support - if needed - for the government?"

"No, no and once again no!" The minister took a deep breath. "You were not involved in this project yet, so you could not know." He continued walking trough the bureau. "You heard of The Forth Colony?" Kedan cast a inquiring gaze at Palpatine, who sketched another bow. "The senate of Coruscant decided to solve the problem with military force." Again a inquiring gaze. "Well, I have to fly to Boryon and take the solution of this problem in my own hands. And I wish you attending me."

Palpatine managed to smile knowingly. "The senate of Coruscant won. The Forth is a colony now and a military base."

"Yes, they won. And why not we? All we want is a planet for agriculture, not a military base. This is not that much. Not too much for a small back-wood kingdom, isn’t it? The king agrees with me!" Nearly loosing his temper the minister of agriculture closed his speech with a big gesture: "At least, this damn barbarians with their tongue-breaking language should be grateful. We’re able to share a superior technology."

Silence covered the room. Than Palpatine was dismissed with a "I count on you."

***

... 'I’m not the powerful beast yet ...' Leaning against the wall, finding support in its solidity, he closed his eyes. Only in the every other force deleting atmosphere of the engine-room he allow himself a moment of weakness. Since boarding for the mission Palpatine was wearing round the clock the mask of the distinguished and polite aide. What a great discovery this dark, warm and power-humming room had been. Not full replacement for the lack of meditation, but it consoled. This shocking words: 'My apprentice, this is your first long range mission without my guidance.' That the mission due to some strange reasons relinquish of hyper-drive and so need days instead of hours, was only a little extra pain. 'However, don’t expect something extraordinary. It will just happen what is set on its way before: The young Jedi-in-training is boarding this moment, you will met Tarkin in a few days and one of the ministers you so deeply impressed at the party too.' Thirsty he had drunk from the flow of force in a last farewell-embrace of his master. Aboard the space-ship Palpatine considered three possible ways to survive: First he could submerge himself into the work for his minister. Because Kedan claimed to lead this mission, he has a lot to do. Second he could tighten his connection to the Padawan. He promised him to continue the conversation they had at the library. Or, third, he could establish a connection to the master of Hom - to dissipate her doubts at him. The first would mean self-isolation and the third could mean open confrontation. 'I’m not the powerful beast yet ... The things happen like set on its path before ... Like I set them.' He looked at his trembling hands. 'I’m not the powerful beast. I’m the powerless ... Powerless. Harmless.' The dark-blue dressed figure tighten. 'After all, we’re in stalemate. I’m alone, she’s alone.' Again the ministerial aide, he left the engine-room for the encounter with the Jedi-knight.

"You ordered to see me?" Palpatine took a seat across the Jedi. The map-room was empty, even with the both at one end of the large desk. "Its not up to me, to give you orders. Take my apologies, if its looks like I command you. I just wish to become a little better acquainted with you, after we met again." He kept it right in mind since he saw her last time in the hospital. There was somewhat of tiredness in her features and movements. Except. Except her beautiful hands. Their short, elegant gestures appealed to his aesthetic sense. The woman honoured the small moment of distraction he show with a smile. "You’re share a lot of time with my apprentice and I must admit, I have been doubting about your intentions. Hom is in a difficult state at the moment." A serious nod "I know." The woman cast a speculative gaze at Palpatine. "Your not inexperienced in the Force." "There was - long ago - some accumulation in my family. Maybe I bear a trace of it." "Why you never joined the Jedi-order?" Palpatine turned his head to look face blank at the wall. "Its to late." He let shine parts of his remembrance of years ago pondering about to become a Jedi through his shields and waited for her reaction. "My apprentice is in a really difficult state. I’m glad to see, you pay this fact the right attention." His clasped hands were untie and lightly pressed. "If you wish, I could give you from time to time fencing-lessons. ... Perhaps a Padawan is not a suitable opponent for you."

Back in his chamber Palpatine took one of these big folders Kedan used to overburden his employees, weighed it short in the hand and hurled it than with a loud cheering in the air. To mess with the Jedi! This must be the taste of satisfaction Lord Gorgeon ... Cooled down, Palpatine tried to remember the content of the folder, to collect the spilled sheets with a force command in the right order. The beast sleeps only, is not dead yet. Every new day would bring new encounters. While the dinner, while the fencing, while ... And now he had decided to mess with both, apprentice and mistress.

Erik Böge

Arrived at the destination the delegation became confronted with the situation, a detachment of Naboo army has arrived earlier. At this moment the minister of agriculture let miss his manners.

"This is my project! How could you dare to put your greedy hand on it!! Did you really think this stupid military power-play will solve any problem?! Or isn’t it rather one of your well known actions to enlarge your private list of glory?"

Naboo’s minister of defence answered coolly "We´r just correcting your failures. Accept, there is a bit more in this revolution than your limited sight is able to recognise."

While the two fury ministers crossed words like blades, their aides exchange looks. At one side Palpatine, at the other Takin. The later one felt obviously uneasy. This was not his arena. Due to the protection of the military minister he had raised in rank, had subordinates too. If asked they would describe him as clear and sharp minded worker, a technician - adjectives of personality they would barely use, perhaps rightful. So this situation here doesn’t match Takins mindset - if there are potentially danger in the riots, than was the usage of military power the best way, why should anyone of the agrar-delegation refuse the support? If no danger, than why fight his patroness so hard with this farmers-official?

To add more to Tarkins discomfort finally the defence minister patted his shoulder with the words: "This young officer here will underline my statements with unmistakably facts." Tarkin send Palpatine an imploring look.

"I think there is no need for." Into the first moment of astonishment Palpatine explained "At the moment. There is no doubt - and minister Keedan doesn’t deny that - the riots are not without importance. And we are grateful for any military support to have in backhand, madam. But we’re not without power." Minister Keedan straightened and put pride in his features, while Palpatine continued "The delegation of the agriculture ministry is attended by a Jedi knight, as you know. This should be surety enough for successful negotiations."

"There is no time for negotiations. The problem is acute!" insisted the defence minister.

Courteously replied Palpatine "Not that acute, that your troops couldn’t handle the situation at any time. I’ve great trust into them." He lowered his voice "I don’t talk about a large space of time - just one or a few days. Just for not to spill the chance of a peaceful solution. And I must admit, in my eyes, it would be more correct if we left the last decision if the realisation of the project is to force with military power with the Jedi ..."

"The Jedi is exclusively for personal protection of my dear ministerial colleague. But" And here the defence minister show her first smile in this talk "one or two days longer don’t matter."

"And what is with the facts this officer dug out?" Keedan had finally decided to contribute now something to the talk.

To Palpatines relief Tarkin himself took the chance to lock up this inlet to fuel a ongoing discussion: "I’d like to suggest, I speak about this issue with your aide, my minister. The data are in a rather raw format and contain lots of things of exclusively military interest. Perhaps we could go through and after that your aide, Palpatine, can present you a refined version. I mean, if we have now time until tomorrow ..." His voice faded under the gazes of the two ministers.

After a short but remarkable silence, Keedan closed: "Very well. Any objections? No. It is at least nearly dinner time - will my dear colleague attend me? Palpatine? You’ll report tomorrow." The two minister left the room in the elated moods only a personal success provides. Each felt he could be generous to his counterpart, because he had defeated him in a way.

The aides followed in a appropriate distance. "Thank you Palpatine for helping me out. This plotting and scheming - I can’t stand it."

"So? I´d thought our minister of defence is a honourable person ..."

"She is, she is. No doubt - but" Tarkin looked at Palpatine to make sure he wouldn’t get him wrong "she is so emotional." a delicate red rose in his face and he turned his head to stare at the floor "As a former space force officer - a flying ace should I better say - she is courageous and has high standards of honour. Of course these pilots reclaim a natural right for prestige. And why not ... ? Damn Keedan, how could he dare ... Anyway, the ministerial work she did with the same resoluteness like stirring a fighter spacecraft. The difference is, it has to do with people instead control panels - I mean, there is nothing fix. Sometimes it is, like there are no rules ..."

"Sounds like a uncomfortable aspect of your aideship."

The young officer nodded "I am grateful I can speak with you about the riot-issue. To see straight and simple facts become deconstructed just for the argument, would have been more than I could bear."

"To be honest, Tarkin, I am too happy to have you here. Anyhow I thought about to invite you this evening."

"Agree. We could have both - official talk and private conversation.”

Sith Lady

That evening, Tarkin knocked on Palpatine’s door. He waited for a while, knocked again and, when there was no answer, tried the door, found it open and walked inside.

‘Palpatine?’ Tarkin peeked around a corner, not wanting to interrupt if his host would be engaged in some other business. The small apartment was very sterile, without any personal touch. Tarkin knew the layout by heart; his was exactly the same. He straightened his jacket and looked around.

There was a teapot and two cups laid out on a table before a wide window. Tarkin let out a breath. His visit was expected, after all. But still, no sign of his host.

He called again, ‘Palpatine?’

Hesitating, Tarkin opened the door leading to Palpatine’s bedroom. His friend was indeed in, but sitting cross-legged on the narrow bed with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. Tarkin rounded the bed and coughed quietly, trying to make his presence known without actually interrupting. Palpatine opened his eyes, blinked and shook his head, then turned to Tarkin.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I must have lost the track of time.’

Tarkin made a noncommittal gesture. ‘That’s quite all right. Were you meditating, or can I ask? And I do apologise for letting myself in.’

Palpatine rose from his bed and ushered Tarkin back into the living-room. ‘I find meditating helpful every now and then,’ he said. ‘And no need to apologise, I should have paid more attention to the time. But welcome, nevertheless. Tea?’

Tarkin nodded and sat down at Palpatine’s suggestion. He took the steaming cup and blew into it.

‘So,’ he said after a moment of silence, ‘What do you think of the situation here?’

Palpatine took a thoughtful sip. ‘It’s…intriguing,’ he finally said. ‘There’s obviously much more going on than one might think.’

Tarkin frowned. ‘The way I see it is that the local people are rioting against our plans, nothing more. It’s only natural to expect some resistance - this is, after all their home world.’

‘Ah, my friend, if only it would be that simple. First of all, sending in the military forces was a mistake. Now the people can focus their energy on a visible enemy. The demonstrations wouldn’t have been this widespread had there not been a military intervention. Sometimes a lot can be done with the ‘political scheming and plotting’ you seem to abhor so much. I might go as far as to suspect a power-struggle going on within our own government.’

‘Now that sounds a bit far-fetched,’ Tarkin said, raising his eyebrows. ‘A power-struggle? Surely you don’t think that our ministers would settle their own skirmishes with something this big?

‘My friend, you clearly have not spent much time around politicians!’ Palpatine laughed. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them were ready to wage war on who’s turn it is to buy lunch!’

Tarkin suppressed a smile. He took a mouthful of tea, then suddenly remembered something and fished a small datapad out of his pocket. ‘Here. I almost forgot. This is the full report of the military situation here.’

He handed the pad to Palpatine who took it and put it on the table. ‘Thank you. I’ll look at it this evening and present it to Minister Kedan as soon as possible.’

Another silence ensued, as both men drained their teacups. Tarkin put his cup neatly on the saucer, dabbed his mouth with a paper handkerchief, and politely refused when Palpatine offered to refill his cup.

‘I really must be going, I still have work to do, and I don’t want to detain you from your duties.’

Palpatine bowed, and let Tarkin out.

END