A/N: I don't know why I keep doing alternate pov chapters so don't ask cause my brain i NG as is.
Sheev Palpatine was an emotional man. He enjoyed laughing, smiling, and watching productions put on by whatever theater he could make time to reach. He was a charismatic politician because he enjoyed talking to others, enjoyed living life.
Darth Sidious was not very emotional. Ever. He was cold, defensive, and was able to pull the strings of other people as only someone with years of experience, having started out gifted in the art, could. He was born of a cold vengeance and looked for something else to avenge himself on when his original target was...paid back.
The Jedi sufficed.
When you put them together, well...It was what made him such a powerful Sith. His lack of channeling only hatred and rage, and instead embracing every emotion he could get a handle on during a fight, or at any moment really.
But there was the crux of it. Putting them together. The force-user was aware his rather...uniqe training left his mind less-than-in-one-piece, but split personality was oftentimes hard to keep concealed. Not for Sheev, but Sidious oftentimes had difficulty holding his more emotional side back during the...filthier parts of his lifestyle choices.
Bah, enough ruminating. He had finally started the war that would-one way or another-lead to the total destruction of the Jedi.
Which was one of the reasons that made the current dilemma such a confusing issue.
Sidious was marching through the stark halls of Kamino, his onyx robes clashing with its vibrant features. He was moving with a purpose, specifically, a purpose for his apprentice.
His apprentice was, in a word, weird. The boy made obvious references to things neither Sheev or Sidious had heard of, fought with a peculiar style that involved spinning and a heavy reliance on surprise, distraction, and unpredictability-something that brought him close to actually beating Sidious-and just...stared at things.
Even when he was not but a child, the small, red creature stared with pity and sadness after his clone brethren, almost as if he knew he would be pitted against them in the war…
No, that simply wasn't possible.
Regardless, Sidious had a mission for his curious protege, and just as he reached the younglings door-
Music.
At first, he didn't recognize it. The instrument and words were foreign, and while Sheev could hardly claim to know every language out there, even he was stumped.
But music wasn't about language, not really.
He felt his heart warm with familiarity and understanding the longer the song went on.
The moment he realized that he, Sidious, was...was feeling these things that his other half practically hoarded, he flinched-physically flinched!-away from the door. This...this was…
Sidious fled, all thoughts of the mission evaporating.
Sheev begged him to go back, to listen to the haunting melodies and uplifting feeling.
Sidious was tempted. So tempted, in fact, that he barely noticed when Sheeve tried to take control and turned them around. Oh, he wrested the emotional man from the forefront almost immediately, but it was the fact that he, Darth Sidious, almost lost control over that music…
Well, he had always seen the benefits of propaganda, and maybe, just maybe, he had an idea.
-Later, aboard the Devastation of Criphstophsis.-
Large and cavernous as they were, brimming with droids like a hive of insects though they might be, the ships of the separatists were lifeless, cold, and much too spartan for my tastes. I mean, yeah, warships are meant to not be the most personalized of places but still.
Even the cushions on the bridge chairs were solid and neigh-on useless, not designed for fleshy sitters.
But, here I sat, two ships over from the legendary Spider tactician, watching the wide bridge windows before us. Any minute now there should be-
A Venator slammed into view, the legendary thrum of exiting hyperspace a quiet rumble against my feet, but oh how I smiled regardless. "And so the fun begins…" I chuckled. The order to fire trickled through the coms and a wave of my hand sent the metallic crew into action.
It was almost disappointing how the mighty sounds of the space-batteries weren't nearly as dramatic as in the show and movies, but the faint echo was nostalgic none-the-less. I couldn't help the smirk that blossomed upon my face when the Republic's ship bay opened for but a few seconds before turning about, retreating to meet the rest of its compatriots behind the crystalline city-planets moon. I reached out cautiously with the force, brushing against two signatures, amused at the way they slammed guards up in preparation at the contact.
Sound drifted away, and two men in varied yet clearly Jedi clothing appeared, surprise coloring their faces at what was no doubt a cloaked figure, resting on one hand, face obscured….who was floating in space.
"Do keep your heat signature in check, gentlemen."
The connection snapped and sound rushed back in at the same speed the duo vanished.
My smirk grew and I slowly rose, turning and leaving the bridge with a flourish. "269857, I leave you in charge." I told the yellow-painted B-1, not responding to his confusion or queries as I left, entering the closest elevator and riding it to the hangar bay.
Stepping aboard the solar sailor and shedding my cloak was almost as easy as remote starting it with controlled bursts of pressurized force hitting just the right buttons with proper force. I slid into the pilot's chair and left the ship.
Thirty seconds after my departure saw the ship detonating with the speed and power of an angry meteor.
Ten seconds later another ship followed.
And another.
And another.
And more and more until only the 'dear' admiral's direct entourage were the sole surviving vessels.
It was enough to minimalize casualties for the Republic without completely annihilating the Separatists ability to put up a fight.
Win, win.
I guided my ship to the planet's surface, landing in a hidden-and rather destroyed-plaza and disembarking, dragging up the hood of my much-less restrictive(cloaky) outfit.
I moved with a purpose, gliding through the beautifully crafted, horrifically thrashed streets, ready to set my plans further into action, all without anyone being the wiser.
A/N: Please let me know what you think. Not exactly my best but I think it's pretty good. Love you all.
