If this weren't three pages long, I'd post another chapter. I still might, as an apology. There's quite a bit of content here I think...or I'm sleep deprived. I'm probably that, and you should go read and respond to what I borrowed to write on. There actually is a disclaimer in that.

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The Fall of an Angel

The suns are bright when I wake up. No one woke me at dawn for practice. Maybe that was my punishment? I don't know, nor understand. All I know is judging by the holo-clock in my room, I am very late for the Senators meeting. There is no reason to rush if I am already late. Apparently, a visitor didn't agree according to the rate she rushed through my side panel.

I barely get her name, Sabe, before I am rushed to the bath. My hair is done while its wet and it's an ornate robe day apparently. I ask the hurry while an Obi is tightened around my waist. "M'lady, the meeting was rescheduled due to a missing servant, and the Empress wanted you to be there specifically this day." All other words are impossible to hear and I see no reason to hear them all. If they aren't important, they aren't important, I guess.

Literally, I am shoved into a Senator's box and brought up to the Empress. The empress does nothing against my rough man handling, and barely smiles at me before starting the meeting. The boxes barely float with people numbering around 100 around her. They are more serious than usual and rather grave. I do nothing to ruin the mood. "The destruction of Alderaan."

There is no time for formalities judging by her briskness. "It was caused by a super weapon test that went wrong. The number of deaths is impossible to count. I fear more wrong tests will happen again." All remained silent and sad. Some were disgusted, some were just broken. No one was full out crying thankfully. There was a thought, louder and more common than the rest however that was force detected. It has begun.

It reverberated around the room, focusing on a tall blond woman in the back. I recognized her as Mon Mothma. We met gazes. Hers was challenging me. I started to half snarl at the challenge but a sideways flash of disapproval brought back my mask. "What is left to discuss, Senator Padme?" The empress' eyes fell to the ground bitterly. "Nothing I can discuss with you." The meeting that I was so quickly rushed too ended like that. The Empress and I were the last to leave. The air was somber.

The meetings soon ceased. The only remnant of the republic was gone, and the dictator ship of Lord Vader assumed position. Without the Senator and republic meetings, I had nothing to do. Well, I had nothing to do until Emperor Vader was alerted and doubled my studies. I swear, I think the end of the cycle goal was for me to memorize the intergalactic library. Granted, it wasn't that hard to use my photographic memory, but still. It was like something big was going to happen. Again. And he was either trying to avoid telling me, or was trying to mould me. Again. Sigh.

If before the palace assumed a non threatening environment, it did now, with a vengeance. Military replaced Democracy, and the Empress retreated to her thoughts in her rooms. When I was allowed to enter her rooms, it was cold. The Empress was not sleeping apparently well at all. My life mainly involved the Emperor.

My force studies were only brought up a few times in a week, and that was to make sure I could still do what I did before. The saber training was to the point where I could even beat Master Anakin every once in a while. No longer did any master and apprentice walks happen. It appeared that the walks were something like a publicity stunt. Now all power was secure in his eyes, I was guessing, so what, I wasn't needed? A part of me was rather insulted in that way.

When I could sneak into the military room late at night, or just when it was safe to wander, the map of the universe became a blue and red argument as proof of security. Purple meant that was where wars were being held. The wars were never discussed in the Palace.

One night, I made a small decision. I was going to see why I was getting no more force training. That involved merely entering a battle room, and turning it onto a familiar level of challenges. That took work due to I was never the one to set levels. Only my master would. Part of the process was going over the levels one by one.

The overall process took several nights but eventually, the outcome made me sit back with record books open, of mine, my master, and his former Jedi. If the level was correct, I was council material. Oddly enough, depending on my mood, I could rival Master Anakin. A dark thought of mine said that that was my right. A lighter thought 'meh'ed at the idea.

A part of me, despite the deep depression I had fallen in, refused to go that low. Pain was one thing. Excessive torture and murder was another. If I was to be a disappointment in becoming a sith lord, so be it. The red crystal still would not activate for me.

I tried many times, and built of burn marks upon burn marks, but then had them vanish with a wash of healing powers and bacta tank fluid. Even in the blank shell that I notice my self becoming, I could never reach the limits of what happenings leaked into the palace.

I want to know what has been happening outside my gilded cage. No one I speak to will tell me anything, so I am forced to lie. It involves the Emperor allowing me to take a trip. It's past my 17th birthday now, and rather near my 18th, and it was never noticed. I use it to my advantage to request something partially complicated. I want to live the life of a civilian of the Empire for a short time. A month would suffice. The Emperor gave me that eye and asks why I think I deserve this.

For starters my training has before gone outside the palace and done much more than a battle room. There are more objects of study than books to improve my future ruling. I am the heir to the throne of the only Empire, therefore, I deserve something. This something could ask for much more like those girls of the past who lived in riches as well as rolled in them.

To compare, I don't ask for much. A few months out on my own with a small bank would keep me settled for when I can start actively ruling. As the apprentice to Vader, I would not be in total danger for those who feared the Emperor. He hears this, and tells me he'll get back to me. For now, I am to go see the palace accountant.

He is an old man who needs an assistant. I growl at the concept of being a servant, again, but it was an order, not a wish. Silently, with frustration being built up at every moment he asks me to do something that day, I do the asked item, but not in pleasure. Really, the work isn't that hard.

Double-check these numbers here, file this, turn on this machine, eat a cookie…actually, the cookie isn't that bad. Apparently, he is the servant Mistress' husband. My frustration is lessened with that, but it does not disintegrate. I think it's my guilty conscience about my negative reaction to his wife that makes me actually be nice to the old guy.

My niceness goes until hours into staying in the dark, and dusty yet oddly homely, room, he asks about that girl. I refuse to stiffen. "She took my mother's ring." The old man looks at me with something in his face that I don't like. I feel the anger growing as he keeps looking at me that way. "What, old man?" He shakes his head. "Did she take it because it was hers? Or did she inherit it?" I blink at him, angrily. "Of course not. Maybe the time for your replacement is nearing quicker than you think." The door echoes what's left of my anger.

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So…like? Hate? Tell me so. You know the last chapter and the girl. Well...that was one of the points that a writer (or an attempting one) surprises herself. I feel as if I should feel guilty for that. But there is no rational thought behind it. Oh dear. I'm rambling, but you, don't mind me. Go review if you want.

This story nearly makes Saturns darkness' head hurt