Excerpt from Darth Plagueis:

His thoughts rewound at frantic speed: to the landing platform on which he and Valorum had welcomed Amidala and her group. Actually not Amidala but one of her look-alikes. But the sandy-haired boy, this Anakin, swathed in filthy clothing, had been there, along with a Gungan and the two Jedi. Anakin had spent the night in a tiny room in his apartment suite.
And I sensed nothing about him.

Part One

The room is scary. It's too cold, too tall, too long, too open: nothing like the low and dusty habitats of your home planet. It's also covered in red, a color that stirs uncomfortable emotions deep inside you, though you don't know why. In fact, you're not certain why you're here anyway. By all rights, you should be at the Temple getting tested and fitted for a Jedi's robe, or even pattering around your cluttered room back on Tatooine putting parts on the protocol droid. But that's gone now, wiped out in a single night's test. Now you're without your family and homeless. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan whispered quietly together tonight before staring at you and leaving for the Temple. Leaving you behind. Some excuse about preparing for going back to Naboo with the Queen… but you've been a slave long enough to know when Authority is lying.

The topic stayed unmentioned in the room all evening, like an invisible krayt dragon. The boy will not be trained. Those words floored you in the Temple, and ever since you've been fighting down a gnawing sensation deep in your gut. You've wanted this more than anything in your life, and now all you want is a warm bed and a caring mother. Wait…you can't look back now. You're stuck in this overwhelming, busy city, and you couldn't walk to the nearest intersection without losing yourself or getting run over by a Bothan taxi driver. You're in over your head, you think and rub your arms in a vain attempt to warm up. You never guessed it could get so cold, and you certainly never thought cold would be so miserable.

It feels like it's settling into your bones. A dull ache that seeps in without notice until it's too late. And suddenly you startle, just like the man that has abruptly entered the blazing red and frozen room. For an endless moment, you stare at each other. He is not tall like Qui-Gon, or young like Obi-Wan. Strangely, the first thing you notice is his nose, long and hawk-like. He stands straight-backed and rigid, hands held by his sides in a controlled fashion. You find yourself stiffening as the pale, ice-blue eyes travel over you. Did he actually see you? It's hard to tell at first, because he looks like he's waking up from a deep dream.

And then he's in motion, moving across the room in long determined strides. Here is Authority, and you shrink back in an automatic response, hunching your shoulders and lowering yourself in deference. This man could make trouble.

He smiles broadly as he comes to a stop in front of you and bends down slightly. "Hello there, young sir," he offers, and you blink. Sir? Who is he talking to? You know it's stupid, but you turn to look for this third person. He laughs, and the sound is so…warm. Your mouth moves as you try to think of an intelligent answer.

"Me?" you squeak. Maybe you just thought it, because he keeps waiting for something, the smile only growing wider. "I…uh…hello, sir." You're doing good just getting something out of your mouth. This man oozes power, not like Jabba or the Dug crime lords. This power is self-confident, assured, warm, irresistible. Maybe like the Jedi, but different somehow. More personal.

"You can talk," he almost grins, not quite, but close. Instead, the expression is a little more dignified. His eyes are shining though. And they are shining on you. You are captivated by this face that is so open and so considerate, and you feel drawn like piece of scrap metal to a junk yard magnet. You look at him and think: that's a terrible comparison. He's nothing like a junk yard. You know this instinctively. Whoops! He's talking again. "…doing in my apartments?"

Oh no! Are you only an intruder to him? "I'm not here to steal anything!" You manage to stammer out. "Cross my heart and call me a Rancor!"

The smile turns baffled. He is confused by your reply, unused to being around rough slaves. You never thought to experience such a…naïve…thing. "I'm not accusing you, son. I'm only curious why Queen Amidala left you out here in my lounge. I saw you with her earlier today, on the landing platform."

"I'm…" Your heart sinks as you think of the two Jedi, hurrying away like they don't want you, as you recall the moment the Jedi Tempe turned you away, and something inexplicable spurns you to finish. "I'm…with her. Well, her handmaiden Padme. I guess she might have forgotten about me." The thought, even though you have only known each other for days, is nearly unbearable, and you shudder.

"Hm…yes, well," the eyes suddenly lose some of that desirable warmth, and the man straightens back up. "They've had a lot on their minds of late, I suppose. We all do…" He looks at you, but he's looking past you – through you – and now you're openly shivering again. The dull cold ache has crept in again.

He still hesitates, as if trying to remember something, but finally he notices you, a shaking mess in the middle of his home. "Ah, you look cold and tired." His large nose wrinkles slightly as you shift on your feet. "And filthy. I dare say Queen Amidala has made herself scarce by now. Come along, I should have a place for you to tidy up and rest before you leave. The queen will doubtless require some time to conclude her business." He turns and begins to stride away with a contagious energy, reaching out to dim the overhead lighting as he goes.

You don't dare disobey him, and besides, you don't want to be left alone again, so you traipse after him. "Sir, could one of your servants maybe take me? I don't want to be a bother…"

He barely turns to look at you, distracted ever since you mentioned Queen Amidala. His feet trace down the hall in a memorized pattern. "No bother, child. I don't keep servants in my apartment. I value my…privacy…a great deal."

You understand. You wouldn't keep servants either, but not for privacy. Because servants are a half-step away from slaves. This is another point in the man's favor, that he does not keep servants. You like him more and more, Authority aside. He doesn't flaunt his power; he wears it like a warm robe. Maybe someday you'll have a robe like that. This man is proof positive you don't have to be a Jedi to get it.

The two of you travel the entire length of the hall until you arrive at a thin automatic door on the left end. The red-haired man passes his hand over a small inset datapad, and the door swishes open. He goes inside immediately, disappearing into the inky blackness of the unlit room, as though he is one with the shadows. You rub your eyes at the optical illusion until a light comes on inside.

"Well?" he calls to you, a hint of impatience in his deep voice.

"Sorry, sir!" You call back, plucking up your courage and sliding in behind him. The room is small, and the low ceiling brings you some comfort at last. It is warmer here too, and you spy a small bed piled with thick blankets. The two of you almost don't fit, but he doesn't seem to mind standing next to you.

Until you find a bar of soap being pressed into your hands, along with a towel and too-large fluffy pajamas. You turn red as you realize how bad you must look and smell. An ugly little slave from some backwater planet. His face gives nothing away except detached amusement. "The refresher is through that door," he points.

"Uh…thanks…" You're still trying to understand his kindness to you, a lowly former slave. You know he's important, because you saw him talking with the Queen and the Chancellor earlier today. He is nodding and starting to move out of the small room, when you reach out and touch him cautiously on the arm. You don't know what made you do such a bold thing, but it's too late and he's waiting for you to speak. "I…uh, don't remember your name, sir."

He smiles faintly. "Senator Palpatine, child. You're in the Senate apartments. You can stay here for now, and I will make certain the Queen sends one of her handmaidens to fetch you when they are ready to leave." He steps out into the hallway. Something again compels you to lean out after him, to create a lasting memory.

"I won't forget you again, sir."

He pauses in the hall, his blue veda cloth-covered back silhouetted in the dim light. A deep breath, and he swivels to gaze at you. The light must be reflecting from his eyes, because you can see a small flash of yellow. "Few will, my boy." Then he is gone, melding into the shadows once again.

You hurriedly shut the door against the now empty, cold hall and focus on finding the thermostat. At least you have a warm bed now, thanks to Senator Palpatine.

Well, this is a one-shot of Anakin's first interaction with Palpatine, based on a few lines from Darth Plagueis, which is so inspiring of late. I think I may try to do Palpatine's POV of the same moment in a second part. What do you think?