Author's notes: Thanks for all the really wonderful and encouraging reviews! Sorry it took so long for this chapter to get up – betas were very busy.  Anakin and Padmé have the same age difference as in the original story, the only alternate thing about this story is the fact that the Queen's ship never landed on Tatooine.  The entire plot, then, is based solely on what was changed from this single fact.

I'd like to give special thanks to Herman Snerd, Jedi Anakin Solo, Darth Tim, and Mcily Nochi from the Jedi Council for all their sabacc help!

*****

Part Six (5/24/02)

And one … two …three …one …two…three, I continued counting the beats to the dance. Maecenas had made sure I learned everything there was to acting pompous, so keeping a mental commentary to my actions wasn't necessary. I was just bored.

The Duchess, on the other hand, seemed to be having a great time. Every chance she got, I found her smiling at me or looking me over. We danced several rounds, thus procuring my boredom even further.

Well, I suppose it was a better way to spend the evening than the alternative. My current plan was to get the Duchess drunk enough to not remember whether or not we did anything, and it was working well so far. At the end of every number, I'd stop to get us a drink. I could count at least ten songs we danced to, and the Duchess, despite her age, was getting a bit giggly.

"Anaaaaaaakin," she moaned out, leaning against me much like that blonde girl did at Mak's. "Wanna have some fun …" She propped her head on to my shoulder as we continued to cascade around the dance floor.

What is it about me that causes women to hang off my arm? I started to consider a serious lifestyle adjustment to remedy this behavior.

Suddenly, the Duchess started to drag me off the dance floor by the hand. I followed semi-willingly, wondering where we were going.

As if the Duchess could read my mind, she turned around, nearly running back into me in the process.

"The Governor was kind enough to provide me rooms here," she told me, her voice weaning on seductive.

Oh, no, no, no, no …

She grabbed my hand even tighter and led me completely out of the ballroom. As we walked out of the solid wood door, I literally felt the last of my dignity stripped away from my soul. Was this all I was born for? Was this it? Me, the son of a slave, doomed to a life of slavery myself?

No. This wasn't just slavery, this was something much worse.

This was Hell.

When I was a boy, I used to dream of a life as a hero, a pilot, a warrior, anything … somebody noble. A person worth more than a pile of credits. I used to imagine that I'd someday manage to escape this world, and maybe one day, have a family.

A soul mate.

I know it must sound lame, but that's all I've ever really wanted. Someone to share my life with - my hopes, my dreams, my future. Somebody to love and be loved by. I never knew how much I needed that until I was separated from my mom.

Oddly, my thoughts turned back to that slave girl from before. For some reason, I looked for her as I crossed the threshold out. It was as if seeing her, if only a quick glance, would make what I was about to do okay.

I didn't see her, though – the floor where she had been was now cleaned. Other serving girls were still around, but none of them were my angel.

The Duchess was saying something as we walked down the hallway adjacent to the ballroom. I tried to focus on her words, to focus on anything, but I couldn't. My mind didn't want to, it had had enough. It was as if my entire being was preparing to go numb. Well, I suppose it was better than having all my senses bare this experience.

We arrived at her room. It was a grand and spacious as one would have thought, given a view of the palace itself. A few servants were in the sitting room when we entered, but they mysteriously scattered immediately. Her bedroom itself was a few paces away.

We went into there, as well, and - after some serious foreplay - wound up on the bed. My mind completely detached itself from my body, and I set into my usual rhythm of seduction.

The Duchess was mumbling something I couldn't quite make out, and didn't really care to. She, at least, knew what she was doing, making my work all the easier. She probably had a boy my age on every planet.

She flipped me over on my back, my head missing collision with the headboard by near millimeters. She straddled me and began kissing my neck. I stared up at the ceiling, wondering if I could count the number of potholes in the elaborate tile job.

One …Two …

Her hands found their way down to my belt.

Five …Six …That one's only half a hole …Six and a half …

My arms must have been doing something right, because the Duchess moaned and giggled.

You're not really here, it's only a nightmare …

Eight and a half …Nine and a half…

Suddenly, I felt a weight slam into my chest. I stopped my counting and looked back down at the Duchess. It was her head that had thumbed my torso; her hair was a disheveled mess across my shoulders and her eyes were peacefully closed.

She was asleep. She had fallen asleep.

I hadn't been under the impression that she was that close to passing out, but alcohol has different effects on different people.

Everything inside the very core of my being began to praise whatever deity or supreme life energy had given me this great gift. My plan had gone through perfectly, even after I had already abandoned it.

I slowly and gently untangled the Duchess's grasp and freed myself from her and the bed. Now liberated, I ran my hand through my hair and breathed a sigh of relief.

Without wasting anymore time, I stripped the bed of its coverings, throwing some linen on the floor, while others found a place at the foot of the bed. That task finished, I undressed the Duchess, tossing her clothes in various corners around the room.

Despite the layers of garments that woman wore, the whole thing took less than five minutes. I placed her neatly in the bed, covering her with a wrinkled sheet. I made a nice little indent on the pillow next to hers, just the size of a human head.

Pleased with my work, I quietly turned around and prepared to leave. When I reached the door, however, I realized I had forgotten something.

Taking off my boot, I yanked off my left sock. I flung it atop the Duchess's chemise. Sure, there were other useless undergarments I could have left, but I felt the sock would be adequate proof of what should have gone on in that room.

Satisfied, I replaced my shoe and left the Duchess alone to her peaceful slumber.

~

The adrenaline rush from my daring escape caused the alcohol to leave my system pretty quickly. Now nearly utterly sober, I made my way back to the party. A few servants, both of the Duchess and the Governor, had spotted me walking away from the Duchess's quarters. The younger ones, especially the girls, snickered when they saw me. Apparently they had seen us going into her room, and were amused either by that fact in general or that I was returning after less than ten minutes.

Upon entering the ballroom, I caught Maecenas's eye. He was standing near the sabacc table, which was where most of the guests were now. He nodded to a few of his friends and then made his way over to me.

"Done?" He whispered, raising an eyebrow in the process.

"She fell asleep," I mumbled back. I found no reason to lie to Maecenas about the situation; he would only punish me if he found out the truth later. And he couldn't blame me for her. "I made it look believable."

He regarded me for a moment as if he was making sure I was honest. "Asleep?"

"She had too much to drink, passed out. She shouldn't remember anything."

"Fine," Maecenas sighed. "You better hope you're right." He turned to look back at the sabacc table. Like a true businessman, he then changed the subject instantly to something having to do with credits.

"Gujdim's got quite a game going on there," he commented. "A senator from Corellia has already lost a quarter of a million credits to him."

And I'm supposed to care because…?

"I want you to join the game and I want you to win it," Maecenas told me. I looked at him, confusion showing through my eyes.

"Podracing is one thing," I reminded him. "But a card game?"

He turned completely to stare directly into my eyes, a hint of darkness crawling through his pupils.

"Win it," he said again, pushing me towards the table and shoving a pile of credit chips into my hand.

I did as I was told.

"Hey, room for one more?" I asked the players when I arrived. Wiphshun seemed pleased by the idea – as I was still the guest of honor – and I found a spot at the table.

Sabacc is as much of a game of chance as it is skill, but some players, famous ones, have made an art out of it. I've only played a few times in my life, and the rules were perplexing because of the numerous forms. Based on what the other players said, this game was running on the more universal rules.

A gaming droid dealt us all two cards each. I carefully glanced at my pair - the five of sabers and the three of coins. That equaled eight in total.

The object of the game was to be the first to reach twenty-three or have the closest to that number. You couldn't go above twenty-three though, otherwise you "bombed-out" and automatically lost the game.

When all the other players had a chance to see their hands, the droid gave us the option of another card. I took it - the Evil One. That card was worth fifteen. I quickly added the three together.

Twenty-three.

I tried not to show my surprise and shock. I could win this thing. Bets were being called.

"Ten thousand," one of Wiphshun's associates said, throwing some jewels into the pot at the center table. The next two players simply dropped their cards and shook their hands, eliminating themselves. That left Wiphshun and myself.

"Ten thousand," Wiphshun echoed, placing a stack of credit chips next to the gems.

My turn. Maecenas had found his way behind me and now - having seen my hand - squeezed my shoulder lightly. I threw down the credits that Maecenas had given me, the chips equaling Wiphshun's.

The game went on as such for several more rounds, until Wiphshun's friend had folded. Wiphshun and I were in a betting war now, the funds getting larger and larger. The table was nearly filled with jewels, rare metals, credit chips, you name it. Maecenas's constant "recommendations" had caused a huge bruise to form on my shoulder. I tried not to grimace at the repeating pain.

"Heh heh heh," Wiphshun croaked up when I raised him another pile of credits. "I'm getting bored, lad. Let's pick this up a bit." I figured he would simply up the ante of money.

I was genuinely curious at what Wiphshun was going to do next. But that was until the serving girl came to bring us another round of drinks.

Not just any girl, mind you, the serving girl. She was nervous, that could be said easily, for she gently shook as she set our glasses down. She snuck a glance at me, since she was standing right before me on Wiphshun's side, and her eyes widened a little in recognition.

It was then that I noticed the small, but very prevalent, black semi-circle underneath her right eye. It would eventually - probably pretty soon, actually - turn into a dark blue contusion, covering the majority of her upper cheekbone.

I bit my lip, trying to push my sudden rage under my already present "game face." I let my left hand, which was resting on my knee bellow the table, clench and unclench several times, drawing blood as my nails continuously rammed my palm.

He had hurt her. Wiphshun had hit her.

I tried to focus on anything … anything but the girl. But her face haunted me, even when I stopped looking at her.

I had to help her … help her anyway I could.

"Pick it up?" I desperately tried to turn my attention back to Wiphshun. "I have a few ways to make this more interesting."

Wiphshun moved his eyes slightly, announcing that he was curious. "What did you have in mind?"

I felt Maecenas's nails bury themselves into my shoulder, but I ignored him.

"That girl," I nodded towards the angel. "I like her. She's yours, right?" I was able to keep my voice calm, business-like.

The girl, realizing that I was talking about her, discontinued her current chore. She looked at me and then at Wiphshun. Her eyes held a certain amount of … was that fear?

"What, this one?" he turned to look at her, and at my nod, grabbed her by the arm. Fortunately for her, the drink tray had long ago been set down. She landed harshly on Wiphshun's lap and immediately began struggling against his grip. I had the sudden urge to jump over the table and cause permanent damage to Wiphshun's face.

"She's mine, all right," he continued. "A feisty one at that, you want her? What are you planning on offering in return?"

Maecenas bent down, leveling himself with my ear.

"What the hell are you doing?" he whispered, his voice a low hiss. "You place this bet, and you won't have the use of your legs until next racing season."

I considered this threat for a moment. If I lost, he would certainly break either both my legs, or something equally drastic. But if I won … no more than a slap on the wrist.

I looked at the angel again. Her eyes dug into to mine, but her emotions were unreadable.

I would just have to win.

"My pod," I reported to Wiphshun. "Custom made, probably worth twice as much as the girl."

"The one you used yesterday?" he asked. I nodded, confirming that it was indeed the pod that won my last race. "Deal!" he nearly shouted, thinking he had gotten the better end of the bet. Little did he know that it was never really the pod, it was the racer.

Maecenas had given up on me; after all, having twenty-three, there was no way I could lose.

But, as if my confidence had alone called on it, the gaming droid called for a randomizing.

This little horrid process involved the players placing their hand in a randomizer, which changed the faces on the cards. It was called completely by chance, some games going without any randomization at all.

We both stuck our cards in the glowing field. After a few seconds, I retrieved my new hand. Terrified, I looked the cards over.

The mistress of sabers, the commander of flasks, and the master of flasks.

Thirty-nine total. I had bombed-out.

I felt my stomach lunge into my throat and my skin noticeably pale. I could only hope that Wiphshun, as a Gran, hadn't seen my human reaction.

The slave girl, however, had, her eyes still completely fixed on me. She raised her eyebrows, questioning the outcome. I tried to ignore her - I couldn't be distracted now. She only added to the fuzzy feeling in my stomach and the dizzy spinning of the room.

I watched Wiphshun closely as he reviewed his new cards. His face gave no hint of expression, causing me to worry. I focused deeper, entering a state I only felt during the races. It was like a trance, I think, and in it, the entire galaxy became clearer.

Wiphshun has … Wiphshun has … I stretched my mind out to him, well, at least that's the only way to describe it. I started to feel him.

Wiphshun has … fifteen.

Not an impressive number, to be sure, but one that would beat mine. I had to think.

I could draw another card. I faced the deck, sitting next to the gamming droid. I had to draw another card.

But, if I did, I would get the two of coins, causing my hand to go up even further.

Bets were being called again.

Should I drop out now? I felt Maecenas's grip back on my shoulder. This time it wasn't a signal; Maecenas wanted to cause me pain, any type of pain he could readily inject.

I had to keep going.

I saw Wiphshun's bet with my own.

He - mostly likely uncomfortable with his hand - asked for the card, making his hand seventeen.

I looked at the cards again, the next one was the mistress of coins - still too high. I didn't take the card.

As Wiphshun placed another bet, I felt my focus hardening into something so unreal, I could barely describe it. It was as if an entire world had opened up to my conscious. Everything in my view seemed to blur into oblivion, even the slave girl.

Wiphshun took the card. His total was now twenty-eight. He too had bombed-out. We had both lost. I could have easily laid down my cards, making the all bets null.

I glanced again at the deck. A lone card swam into my mind's eye - the Star. I quickly asked for the card, hoping against hope that my insight was correct. The Star was worth a variable value of either seventeen or negative seventeen because it, like the Evil One, was one of eight special face cards in a sabacc deck.

The droid dealt me the card. I grasped for it yet picked it up slowly, afraid of the possible result. Thinking better of myself, I forced my eyes to glance at it.

A shinny sun picture greeted me.

The Star! I now had twenty-two.

I laid down my cards, face up - open to all around me. Wiphshun did the same, and, after a few seconds of adding, the crowd knew who the winner was.

I felt Maecenas's hand let go of my now-aching shoulder.

Has he been gripping me this entire time?

Wiphshun nearly threw the shocked girl off his knee and stormed off, dragging her along with him.

Still dazed, I leaned back into my chair. I had won. I had won everything. I had won the angel.

If I had only known then what the consequences of that action would be.

*****