Many Masters
By Arianwen P.F. Everett
Disclaimer: This vignette is not meant in any way to infringe on the rights of Lucas Films or anyone else holding rights to Star Wars. It is merely a labor of love.
As a Jedi, Obi Wan taught me to quiet my mind and to focus, gently reprimanding me over and over with each failure. As a Sith, Palpatine… Sideous demanded the same discipline, but slips in my control were met with moments of intense agony, as my weak lungs sought the usually steady supply of oxygen that wasn't forthcoming due to the force blocked tubes in my life support suit. Truthfully I came to prefer Sideous' method for on three separate occasions, as unconsciousness neared; I swear I heard the sweet call of the force, a call delivered in the voice of an angel. I think on those three occasions, my master had seriously considered destroying what was left of my mortal body, but the sadist in him couldn't resist the pleasure of wrenching me back from peaceful oblivion, and the pragmatist in him knew that despite those instances of failure, he had no replacement even half as efficient as I.
Still, looking out on this lush moon, my son's lightsaber in my mechanical hands, it's not Sideous or even my angel who my mind wanders to, but to my first master, Watto. I know I was owned by Gardulla the Hutt before him, but truth be told, I never even saw Gardulla till the Boonta Eve race when I was ten. All I remember about those days before I was owned by Watto is sitting on a stool in one of the Hutt's palace kitchen's chopping vegetables to feed Gardulla's henchmen during their meal breaks and occasionally fixing broken appliances or simple droids. Practically speaking, Watto is the first master I remember.
Qui Gon Jinn was my next master. He truly believed he had freed me, and like a good slave child I tried to believe what my master told me to, but looking back on it, I know now I never really believed him. If I had, I would've politely declined Obi Wan's offer to take over training me as a Jedi and gone to Padme to ask her help in returning to Tatooine so that I could get a job and work towards freeing my mother.
However, every slave knows that when your master dies you, as property, are inherited by his or her heirs. Not understanding the Jedi way, I had believed Obi Wan to be Qui Gon's heir, and so I bound myself to serve him. But Obi Wan didn't want a slave; he wanted a padawan. In the end that had been our downfall; neither I nor Obi Wan had seen the incongruity in how we each interpreted our roles.
Palpatine had, but like Obi Wan Kenobi and Qui Gon Jinn he'd thought he could free me. He let me play the slave boy for the Jedi, but everything he had ever learned from his own master and his own life experience had taught him that once I had gotten a taste of the dark side's power and gained victory over the Jedi, my chains would be broken. That was the heart of the Sith code. Passion, Strength, Power, and Victory begat each other, ultimately producing the truly desired state of freedom. A Sith apprentice was supposed to serve their master and the dark side, but as a student and a subordinate, not a slave.
No doubt this is why he now seeks to turn my son to the dark side, to replace me with him. In raw power and skill I am still far superior to my son, but Luke was born a free sentient. If turned to the dark side he would be everything Sideous had once thought me capable of becoming; the power and the skill could be taught once I was gone and his new apprentice had taken his place, the rule of two upheld. I've known from the moment he told about my son's existence that this was his plan, but if I were capable of thinking about my own welfare before deciding what actions would most please my master and carrying those out to the best of my ability, I would not be a slave. I would be the Dark Lord of the Sith, or a sage Jedi Master, or maybe just a free pilot, soaring over a beautiful Nabooine landscape in my self-constructed ship.
Turning back to my son, I look at him, and in him I see a light so bright, I know my arrogant master, Sideous, will be no match for. It is inevitable; Luke will outlive Sideous. The dark side has clouded my visions over the decades, but that fact is so obvious in my child's force signature, you'd have to be blind not to see it. Even then you'd probably hear it once your ears compensated.
Sideous is as good as dead, which means I have a new master. I will walk with my new master to Sideous' throne room. I will play the role my new master expects me to play. If necessary, I will give my life for his, as any loyal slave would.