AN: Okay, this is a completely-and I mean COMPLETELY-AU story. There is no Luke or Leia; Cassie is my own original character. You have been warned.

The Cassie Skywalker Chronicles

by Lady Dawson

Prologue

All throughout the streets and beyond, stretched out as far as the eye could see and continued on, the people of Naboo celebrated. The cheers for their victory, their renewed sense of freedom was constant; there was nowhere upon the planet that was not celebrated the return of peace. Both Naboo and Gungan alike were dancing and laughing, relishing in their new alliance.

All but one.

From the palace window, still donned in the white gown she had worn for the festivities, Queen Padmé Amidala watched the celebrations impassively, her brown gaze shifting towards the Jedi Cruiser as it flew away from the landing platform, shooting for the stars—and taking a certain young Padawan with it.

Her hands clasped over her gown, Padmé watched it disappear, her lips pierced together in disapproval.

"I'm not so sure this plan of yours will work," she said without turning around. She didn't need to look behind her to know who it was that was approaching her soundlessly; she had sensed him before he even stepped into the room. Even when he was across the galaxy, she could hear his commands as though he were standing right next to her.

"Do not worry, my dear," Chancellor Palpatine said with a quiet chuckle as she turned to face him. "I have every faith that my plans will succeed, when the time comes for it. We must be patient. I am not about to let this opportunity slip away, not now that it has presented itself to us."

Padmé took a deep breath, now more sure than she had been when she first informed him of young Skywalker.

"So I was right," she said. "The boy is the one . . . the one that the prophecies refer to . . . the Jedi's so called Chosen One."

"Oh, I have no doubt," her master agreed, folding his arms over his chest. "For one to be as strong as he is in the Force, he would certainly have to be. And his midi-chlorain count is higher than anyone I have ever come across, myself included. Thank you for forwarding that information to me," he added. Padmé inclined her head to him. "In any case, those foolish Jedi would never have allowed him into their Order so late unless they were sure he was their prophesized one. But do not fret, my dear; everything will fall into place and the galaxy will soon return to the rightful rule of the Sith. Already, we have revealed ourselves to them. Our vengeance will come and they will fall, the Republic with them."

"But how can you be so sure? Forgive me, my lord, but they have the Chosen One . . . they're going to train him . . . he will be the most powerful Jedi that has ever existed. I can already sense that; why can't you? Why didn't you let the droids finish him while we had the chance?"

"Do not raise your voice to me, my young apprentice," Palpatine said shortly. Padmé bit the inside of her mouth, silently chiding herself for talking back to her master. "And do not think that I am unaware of Skywalker's future. There is no doubt as to what he will become."

Shaking her head, Padmé looked back to the vanished cruiser. "We should have gotten rid of him while we had the chance. He's just a boy; he's not a threat to us now. In that space battle, we could have gotten rid of him and no one would have known the difference. But now . . . he's under Jedi protection now. He will become a man and a Jedi at that! And he will be our downfall."

"So certain are you of our failure," Palpatine said coolly, "but I have plans which include young Skywalker."

"If you plan on swaying him to our side, then it would be more prudent to take him now, before he is warped by their teachings—"

"I'm afraid that bringing him to our side no longer is of any interest to me; I have a much more interesting plan in store for him."

"And what is that?"

"I've had a vision," he replied, "of young Skywalker and his child united in battle against the Sith. And they succeed in destroying our order," he added, causing Padmé to gasp. "Do not look so shock, my dear. After all, the prophecies do say that the Chosen One will destroy our order and bring the Force back into balance. It is his destiny, after all."

"But—but his child? I don't understand; the Jedi would never allow their kind to father a child, let alone Anakin. They've already broken enough rules for him; they let him into their order long past the age requirement. Why would they allow him to have a child? They would not overlook it."

"Nevertheless, what I saw will one day come to pass."

Padmé paused, gathering her thoughts, choosing her words very carefully. "Then . . . why keep him alive? If what you say is true, then we should kill him now, before he can father that child, before he can become a Jedi."

Her master chuckled. "So eager for blood, you are, Padmé. I have to admit, I did consider that possibility, but . . . I have a much more interesting plan, one which includes the survival of that child . . . and this plan is entirely dependant upon you, my dear. Everything depends on your success."

"You know I would do anything to take down the Jedi and restore the galaxy to the rule of the Sith. Just tell me what I need to do."

"Nothing," he replied. "All you need to do at the moment is play the peaceful Queen who has fought for her people's freedom and ended an age-old feud between Gungan and Naboo. I must say, that was a brilliant move on your part," he added. "Let them believe that you fight for peace and justice . . . and then when your reign as Queen ends, I will arrange for you to be elected Senator. And then, when the time is right, I'll see to it that you and Skywalker will be reunited. When that happens," he added, "I want you to seduce him."

"Seduce him?" Padmé echoed, realization settling upon her. "You mean for me to bear his child."

"Any child of Skywalker's will be very powerful in the Force," Palpatine replied, "and I want that child to be raised in our beliefs, in the ancient art of the Sith. What better way to ensure that than for you to be his mother? Your son will be a powerful weapon in our war against the Jedi."

"Skywalker's blood, his incredible connection to the Force, but raised in our ways," Padmé murmured. It sounded too good to be true . . .

"Can it be done?"

"I will do as you bid me, my lord," Padmé said at once. "But can you be sure Skywalker will play his part?"

"Oh, I have no doubt that his childish affection for you will grow as he becomes a man, especially with proper encouragement. Love, you know, can be a useful weapon, if used properly. All you have to do is let him believe that you return that love, play on his love for you and he will do what we need. After you bear the child, then we can deal with Skywalker. But we'll speak of this more when you come to Coruscant. For now, let the Naboo believe in their victory. It is only a small one. Very soon, the Clone Wars will begin."

"Yes, my master," she said, knowing when the conversation was over. "I'll see you at the banquet tonight?"

"Of course, Your Highness," he said with the friendly smile that was his true visage.

Turning away, she slipped out of the corridor, her heels clacking all the way down the hall, but she hardly noticed, her thoughts focused entirely on the plan her master had divulged to her.

A smile wormed its way across her lips as she thought eagerly of the years that lay ahead.

They would have the weapon that they needed to destroy the Jedi.

Skywalker's child . . . her child . . . it was almost too perfect to image.

You had better enjoy your victory, she sneered towards the celebrating Naboo and Gungans. Because when our time comes, there won't be anything left for you to celebrate about. And our time is coming . . . and not even the Chosen One will be able to stop us when it does.

Thirteen years later . . .

Anakin paced back and forth across the Jedi Council Chambers, trying not to think of what was happening at the Senate building, forcing himself to sit down and pull himself together, but it was taking everything that he had just to remain there in that chamber and not race over to the Senate building and do something about all of this; whether to stop it or help the masters, he still wasn't sure.

He still couldn't believe it; the kindly old man that he had trusted with some of his darkest secrets, who had been his mentor for over a decade was nothing but a lie . . .

All this time, he had been a Sith Lord—and not just any Sith Lord, but the one that they'd been looking for all this time. Anakin still had trouble grasping this concept; this was his friend, his mentor that he was talking about it. He thought that he knew Palpatine, thought that . . .

But it was just a lie, to get him to trust him . . . but for what? To turn him against the Jedi, to seduce him to the Dark Side? The thought made Anakin sick. If he thought that Anakin was ever going to help him murder his brothers and sisters, then he was even more delusional than he thought.

Padmé . . .

The visions that had been plaguing him for weeks now flashed through his mind as he shivered slightly, lowering his head and gripping his bangs tightly.

She was going to die; he had seen it in his visions. And he knew that what he was seeing was true. As much as he loved the child that was growing inside her—their child—he hated that they would be the cause of his beloved wife's demise. He had to save her and the Chancellor was the only one who knew how.

Before he even realized what it was he was doing, Anakin had jumped from his seat, racing out of the Council Chambers, running as fast as his legs would carry him for the hanger, jumping into the first speeder that he reached.

Obi-Wan was forever reproaching his reckless piloting, but somehow, if he had been in the seat next to him, Anakin had a feeling that his old master would be longing for his piloting when he was calm. He pushed the speeder to its limits, forcing it to go as fast as it was capable of going, inwardly praying to the Force and any higher being that was listening that he wasn't going to be too late.

Anyone that was in the corridor jumped out of his way as Anakin ran through the Senate building, racing up to the Chancellor's office, bursting through just in time to see Mace Windu with Chancellor Palpatine a lightsaber-point, his dark gaze fixed upon the fallen Sith Lord. He was seemingly unaware of Anakin's arrival, but he still knew that Anakin was there.

"You are under arrest, my lord," he said calmly as Anakin approached them, torn between what he was going to do.

"Anakin!" Palpatine cried out, his gaze flickering towards Anakin. "I told you—I told you hat it would come to this! I was right! The Jedi are taking over!"

"The oppression of the Sith will never return!" Mace vowed. "You have lost."

And then, Anakin watched as the mask of Chancellor Palpatine faded away and in that moment, he saw him for what he truly was, a Sith Lord who was determined to destroy everything that Anakin knew and everyone that Anakin loved. In that moment, Anakin knew what he had to do.

Forgive me, Padmé, he thought. But he knew she was understand; if he helped Palpatine, if he turned to the Dark Side, he would become nothing more than the man before him, just a shell of who he was. As much as it broke his heart at the thought of losing his wife, at least their child wouldn't lose both his or her parents. This was, at least they would grow up free of a galaxy threatened by the Sith.

As Palpatine hurled Force-lightning at Mace, Anakin rushed forward, activating his lightsaber to aid the Jedi Master, deflecting the lightning and returning it to its master, grunting as Palpatine narrowed his eyes at him before hurling a blast of lightning at Anakin's chest.

Anakin flew over the desk and hit the wall opposite with titanic force, crumpling onto the ground, the breath knocked out of him.

Struggling to force air into his lungs, Anakin gripping the wall behind him, straining to pull himself upright, watching helplessly as Palpatine suddenly had a lightsaber in his hand—scarlet, like all Sith Lords—and then, Mace screamed as the hand holding his lightsaber was cut away, flung out the shattered window.

A split-second later, he was hit by Force-lightning and with nothing to deflect it with, he was flung backwards into the busy Coruscant skyline, falling through it and crumbling onto the streets below.

For a moment, Anakin couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except stare, aghast, at the place where Mace Windu—the strong, wise, noble Jedi Master who had been on the Council since Anakin first arrived—had finally fallen.

"You . . ." he gasped, snatching up his lightsaber and reactivating it after it had fallen from his grasp when he fell. "You're a monster . . ."

"And I see now that Padmé was correct all those years ago," Palpatine said. Anakin flinched at his wife's name. "She knew that we should have eliminated you when we realized who you were: the Chosen One. But I knew better; I knew that your child would play an important role in all of this. And now we have what we want."

"What are you saying?"

"My dear boy, do you really think that a respected and wise Senator would throw all of it away for a Jedi Knight, no matter who he is? She's even better than I thought she was," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You never once suspected that she might have an ulterior motive? You thought, perhaps, that she was willing to risk her reputation for you, that nothing was more important than her love for you? No," Sidious said quietly, "no, my young Jedi. She has been my apprentice since before she was old enough to speak. And she did what she was supposed to do; seduce you and bear your child. And that child will be the most powerful Sith that the galaxy has ever known."

"NO!" Anakin yelled, lunging forward with his lightsaber, but Sidious parried his attack. For such an old man, he moved with surprising agile, matching every one of Anakin's attacks with one of his own while anguish fell upon Anakin as doubt wrenched up in his mind.

What if he was telling the truth? What if Padmé really was . . . and if she was, then that meant that their love, marriage . . . everything had been a lie . . . Anakin had trouble breathing at the thought.

"Give up, boy, and I will make your death painless," Sidious crowed. "I assure you, we have a glorious future planned for your child—once I take control of the Senate and get rid of this pesky, foolish Republic and create the new Empire, that child will be groomed to be my successor—"

"Never!" Anakin vowed, shaking his head, taking several deep, calming breaths to clear his thoughts. "You'll never destroy the Republic and you will never lay a hand on my child!"

With furious thoughts running through his head, an enraged Anakin fought furiously against the Sith Lord.

"Dad, no!"

Anakin stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a small, faint, but distinctive female voice shout at him. His breath caught in his chest as he glanced furtively around him, wondering if he was going crazy, but there was no one there; he and Sidious were the only ones there.

But then, just when he was about to dismiss the voice, he heard it again.

"That's not the way, Dad. . . . Don't attack with anger or hate . . . that leads to the Dark Side. . . . You can't beat him using the tools of the Sith . . . you can only beat him as a Jedi Knight, with the Force as your ally. Remember Obi-Wan's teachings . . . they'll be what can save you. Fight him, Dad, as a Jedi."

He swallowed, stunned; was it even possible? Could he really be hearing his unborn daughter's voice, calling him back from the darkness?

Whether it was or not, she was right, he thought. He couldn't fight evil with evil; that would only lead him down a path that he did not want to follow, one that he wouldn't let his child be threatened by. Anakin refused to let his child be destroyed by the Dark Side.

He wouldn't let anything happen to his child.

Taking a deep breath, Anakin closed his eyes ever so briefly, holding his lightsaber up in front of him as he opened them again, staring down the Sith Lord, who faltered ever so slightly.

"It's over," Anakin told him, calling on the Force as his guide. "You've lost, my lord."

"Perhaps," Sidious snarled, "but at least I have one small consolation prize. You think you can beat me, Skywalker? My apprentice already knows what to do; she has already put our plans into affect." He smiled. "Order 66 has begun."

Anakin has absolutely no idea what that meant, but he knew that it couldn't be good. Lunging forward, he blocked every attack the Sith Lord made with one of his own and with one, quick movement, he knocked the saber out of Darth Sidious' hand and plunged his own into the Sith Lord.

Sidious actually looked surprised as he looked down to see the blue blade in his chest, looking up at Anakin.

"So the prophecy begins . . ." he whispered. "But as you will learn, young Skywalker, it is only the beginning."

He smiled in a very cold manner, so very different than what Anakin had been used to—but then again, the disfigured man before him only bore a faint resemblance to the Chancellor he'd known—before he fell backwards, dead before he hit the floor.

Anakin swallowed as he sank to the ground, shaking as he fell to his knees, staring at the death and destruction around him. And it was only about to get worse, he knew, especially if Sidious had been telling the truth about Padmé.

Padmé . . .

Slowly lifting his head, Anakin forced himself to stand up. He had to know; he had to protect his child if it was true. He had to do something.

And with that, Anakin raced out of the Chancellor's office, making a break for the chambers that he shared with Padmé, praying that Sidious had been lying, that he was merely trying to distract Anakin . . .

But in his heart, Anakin knew he was telling the truth.

Padmé knew he was coming, even before he neared her quarters, even before he set foot in the elevator.

And she knew, too, what had happened in her master's office; she had sensed Lord Sidious' death the moment that it happened, knew the moment that he passed into the Force. And she'd heard his last command, clear in her mind as though he had been standing right next to her.

"You will take my place as Empress, Padmé. . . . Do what must be done. . . . Do no hesitate, show no mercy. . . . You know what to do. . . ."

"I do," Padmé whispered, more to herself than to her fallen master. She approached the comm. channel, lifting the hood of her gown so to conceal her features as she made the call to the clone commanders.

"This is Lady Varen," she said in a voice that barely carried a trace of Padmé Amidala. "Apprentice to Lord Sidious. My master has fallen; I am now in command," she told him flatly, leaving no room for argument. "Execute Order 66."

"Yes, my lady," the clone said at once, snapping to attention. "It will be done."

"Good," Padmé said before ending the call. She took a deep breath, lowering her hood away from her face.

"What's Order 66?"

Padmé froze; she hadn't even heard him approach. She knew, of course, that he would be coming here, but hadn't realized he was so close. How had he entered her chambers without her knowing? she wondered as she turned around to face Anakin, whose expression was twisted into betrayal.

"Anakin . . ."

What she planned on saying, Padmé had no idea, but she didn't even have the chance to as he stepped closer to her and as her brown gaze collided with his ice-blue one, she knew that he planned on killing her.

"How could you?" he whispered. "How could you use me like that? How could you betray me like that, after everything that we've been through?" Padmé was speechless. "Was all of it just a lie? Was—was that all I was to you, just . . . just a pawn so you could get my child?"

Padmé met his gaze evenly. "Yes," she said honestly. Anakin blanched; he hadn't expected her to confess it, no matter what he believed. "Everything that I have ever done, everything that I have ever said has always been in the service of my master, Anakin. It's who I am," she said with a shrug.

"Not anymore," Anakin snapped. "I am not going to let you destroy the Republic or the Jedi. I'll destroy you," he said, snapping on his lightsaber.

She just looked at him. "If you kill me," she reminded him, "then you kill our son."

Anakin froze, as though he had forgotten completely about their unborn child that lay inside of her. His gaze shifted downward and then back up again, about to say something when he flinched suddenly, turning quickly to look out of her window, directly at the Jedi Temple.

Already, there was smoke rising from it.

Shaken, Anakin turned back to her. "What's Order 66?" he asked again.

She smiled. "The order that all the clone troopers have programmed in their brains," she replied, "for them to turn on the Jedi when they receive and eliminate them. Right now, all over the galaxy, troopers are turning on their Jedi generals." She laughed. "They won't know what hit them."

Anakin went white. "You . . ."

"There's nothing you can say to me, Anakin," Padmé said simply. "This is who I am; you fell in love with someone who doesn't even exist. The Jedi mean nothing to me; I will rejoice when the last of your kind is wiped from the galaxy. But you gave me our child," she said, "so I'll let you go. Just leave, Anakin. You can't save them, any more than you can save our child."

"Don't bet on that," Anakin retorted, ice-blue eyes flashing. "This isn't over, Padmé. I'm going to come back for my child. I won't let our child be raised by you; I won't allow you to corrupt them."

She met his gaze evenly. "We'll see," she replied as he backed away from her, racing for the speeder that lay outside her balcony and jumping inside.

With one last look behind him, Anakin sped away from her, with Padmé watching him go, heading straight for the Jedi Temple.

Behind her, Threepio hovered nervously. "Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?"

"Help me get ready," Padmé answered. "I need to call a special meeting of the Senate to inform them of the Jedi traitors."