Chapter Two

A week after Lord Plagus's assassination, rumors and predictions were beginning to come to fruition. It was revealed that it had, in fact, been his apprentice who had done the deed- although, surprisingly, many were willing to claim the responsibilty, and the honor. Somehow, all the silent frustration that had existed unheard for many years was surfacing, and few now were able to keep their voices checked. So it was with some reluctance that the general populace let Lord Sidious take the blame.

And now he had come to power. As second in command under Lord Plagus, authority over the Resistance naturally came to him, and few had any complaints. However, the winds were beginning to change, and it was difficult not to notice the transformations beginning to take place in their society. Attacks against the Republic became far more aggressive and frequent. Uncertainty was creeping up into the ranks, and angry whispers were growing louder by the day.

For the last seven months, the Resistance Population had resided in a small space station in its orbit around Coruscant. The ship's true purpose as a rebellion headquarters was unknown to the rest of the galaxy, so they were safe, at least for the moment. They were living, for the most part, in perpetual tension, afraid every day of an attack once they were found out. Phinian was at home in this constant unease. He never felt really safe anyway. After walking out on his duties the week before, he had been simply staying out of the way, trying to sort out his emotions. So he avoided people and stayed secluded in his quarters, alone with his thoughts.

He was filled with a sort of vague, festering confusion. He knew he was unsatisfied with the Resistance, and it held no place in his heart. He knew he would be happier outside of all the hostility, all the juvenility he found himself highly contemptuous of as days went by. He also knew it was weak, its powers were meager and would never, at the rate at which it was going, succeed in its purpose. However... with the new leader, he was starting to think twice. Perhaps Lord Sidious could bring welcome changes to this insufficient force of revolution they were trying to create.

He knew also he had acted rashly before. It was unwise to leave one's duties at any time, especially in such an unforgiving organization as this. However, he knew with all the confusion that the transition of leaders was bringing, his offense would be overlooked, for now. But there was always something, nonetheless, about the Resistance that did not sit well, and he got the distinct impression he should no longer be a part of this childish cult he had tied himself into.

It was late. Phinian was carefully focusing on keeping his eyes open, and the effort was exhausting his energy. He hated sleeping these days, for every night, without fail, his mind would be flooded with confusing images and thoughts he did not understand. So he stretched out his joints, stiff from long disuse, and looked around his room for something to occupy him.

At last, he spotted it, and smiled softly. Sitting on his desk was a compact metallic box, gleaming gently in the dim light. He picked it up, and opened it to reveal a flat horizontal screen. It was unusually warm to the touch. He sat back on his bed and rested it on his chest. After pressing a series of buttons, a small hologram suddenly projected itself into the air above the screen. Seeing it, Phinian smiled again.

It was a woman, in her early twenties. She wore her hair tightly braided and tied at the base of her neck, and wore a brown shawl over a dress colored a light cream. And as Phinian looked at her, he felt a twinge of bleak loneliness, for her eyes were, he knew, just like his. And he also knew that this message had been recorded almost a year ago, that this woman was far away and unreachable. She began to speak, her voice soft and faint, but with a certain force behind it. It was the kind of voice that comes to soothe in the darkest of times.

"Hello, Finny," it said cheerily, and the woman's eyes sparkled. "I hope everything's going well for you... I know you've been having difficulty assimilating to the culture there, so I hope things have gotten easier since you last contacted me. I've been keeping fairly busy here, but it gets rather dull, and it's not hard to get bored. Anyway... I also wanted to remind you... that, of course, you can always talk to me about things, if you ever feel like you need to. I mean... I know you don't always like talking to people, but I hope you can trust me. And being so far away from your family, I just don't want you to feel completely alone. Of course, I may just be being paranoid... you were always able to take care of yourself... even if you don't make the best choices, I don't really have to worry about you because I know how smart you are. Still, sometimes I wonder about those people you're with now... Just be careful, please."

She paused here, looked at the ground as if she wanted to say more but didn't feel like she could. Smiling briefly, she finally continued. "Anyway, things are going pretty well over here... I've- I've been staying with a shopkeeper in town... he's very kind, he's been taking care of me." She stopped again. Phinian closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. Suddenly, he reached out and closed the top of the box, then dropped it in frustration it back on the desktop. With a sigh, he fell back onto the bed and lay in silence, alone again.

Shmi was his twin sister. And he had not heard from her in months. He had been trying to contact her, but very suddenly her messages had ceased, and he had not received any contact from her since. For all he knew, she was dead.

The last time he had seen his sister in person, spoken to her, was two years ago. Their father had died, leaving them nothing, alone to find their own ways. For many months, they wandered, living in near poverty, as the government had not the inclination to take any care of them whatsoever. Many times, their lives became endangered, and they doubted that they would live much longer. At last, his sister discovered that they had distant relations living on Tatooine, and opted to go stay with them, at least temporarily. Phinian, however, was still filled with anger towards the great Republic, which had done nothing for them. Which didn't care what happened to them. Now he wanted to strike back. How could this system of government stand when it cared not for the poor and the desolate, when it couldn't even take care of two lost siblings, alone in the galaxy with nowhere to go?

He knew of the Resistance movement. He knew it was very real, that, even if it wasn't considered by the government to be a true threat, it was out there and willing to take him in. He had dreams of becoming a great leader in the movement, turning it into a true threat, with guidance it did not already possess. He would singlehandedly bring down the Republic, and make them pay for their neglect and selfishness.

Phinian heaved a terrible sigh, closing his eyes. Looking back now, he could see his foolishness. He had been young, and naive. He had childish dreams of defiance and rebellion. In the heat of his wrath, he changed his last name and quickly discovered how to join this movement, which then seemed to understand him so well. Their ideals matched with his entirely, and his anger was parallelled. He had finally found his place in the universe.

Shmi had watched as his anger and need for vengeance increased. She no longer recognized him as her brother of so many years, who was so close to her, who had shared with her the loss of both their parents. Now, he was consumed with hate. He was wild and delusional with dreams of war and violence, a bloody revolution. He drew further away from her. Shmi, in sorrow and hopeless resignment, went to Tatooine alone to find family.

And so he was alone. But in his adrenaline, in the thrill of it all, he didn't notice. He was part of a great order, a great force that would reform the galaxy and its government, make it a better and safer world to live in. He had these dreams in the beginning. He would never look back.

However, as time went by, and months passed, he began to realize the illusion that had truly fooled him. The ideals he held so dear did not exist there. He began to realize the true nature of it- cold, uncaring, with a purpose completely separate from his. He was among hundreds of other young men like himself, all being used for some greater goal. And now he was filled with a sense of helplessness, because he had sworn alliegance to the Resistance. There was nothing he could do, no way to escape this fate. And now he was alone, facing a montrosity of a society that wouldn't care if he lived or died.

And now it seemed he had lost his sister, his one friend through it all- before, at least, this perversion he had embraced, that had ensnared him. It might be too late for me now, he thought, and turned out the light. He lay silently and waited for sleep.