Almusian Brek was an intelligent man who had a fair amount of talents. He was a genius in mathematics, he had wit and charm, and he was a killer with the ladies (well, at least the ones who weren't biased by the Empire's view of non-Humans). He had grown up in a wonderful family and had lived a happy life on his homeworld, Gleeshra, until he had tried to enroll in college. He had aspirations of becoming a mathematician, possibly a professor, but when he slammed head first into the Empire's anti-alien laws, Almusian had finally come face to face with Imperial values (or, more accurately, their lack thereof). He had tried everything in his power to avoid confrontation while still attempting to get some rights for people like him, but eventually had grown sick of the hopeless endeavor. Disenfranchised, Almusian had begun his more illegal dealings.

But hell, even after ten years of working in the underworld, after eight years of smuggling, after three years of working for the Alliance, he still hated himself for his decision to rebel by breaking the law. And loved himself. It was freeing, but it was terrifying and unfulfilling, and he had to constantly live with the conflict of just being him.

It didn't matter at the moment though. Despite whether he agreed with his lifestyle choices or not, he hadn't survived in the dangerous world of criminals for nothing.

He knew when he was being followed.

This is what I get for having a panic attack, Almusian thought to himself irritably as he sifted through the enormous crowds of Imperial Center. It probably was a good thing the others hadn't taken his advice and left with him in the morning. It was amazing how after so many years in his line of work he still could panic like that. Upset clients? No problem. Annoyed Hutts? A nuisance and threat, but still not a huge deal. An entire galactic Empire breathing down your neck?

Yeah. He freaked out. Every time.

He'd get his head together afterwards, though, just as he had now. But now he had to get rid of his tail, preferably before Obi-Wan, Siri, and Padmé called him.

Dodging between people and crouching a little further so he'd vanish into the crowd, Almusian increased his pace, turned down a side street, doubled back, ran down some stairs, and waited at an air bus stop.

The tail was still there.

Blast it. This guy had to be a professional; no doubt an Imperial operative.

Almusian's comlink chimed. Sithspit.

Stifling a groan, he sidestepped into an alley and began to fiddle with his comlink as if he were going to make a call. The Imperial slinked closer, but hovered near the people at the bus stop. Al waited until the bus had arrived, filled, and departed, leaving the area barren of witnesses. Then he began to whisper into his comlink. The Imperial leaned in closer to hear what he was saying.

"Yep, got it on vector two. No, that's the cosine." Al muttered, just rambling random math words to confuse the operative into thinking he was using code. As soon as the operative got within his peripheral vision, Al turned farther from him to conceal the fact that he was reaching for a weapon. Then he immediately whirled around and fired the entire clip.

The agent fell to the ground.

Lowering his blaster, Al swore under his breath. "Shavit, this is the part I kriffing hate."

Slowly approaching the agent, he watched him warily until he stooped down to the man. The agent was dead. Nodding to himself, Almusian holstered his weapon and hastily departed before people nearby came to investigate the sound of a blaster firing. He immediately pulled his comlink back out to trace the signal of the incoming call. Tracking it, he went to a large plaza a few districts from the senate area. There he waited until he saw the familiar figures of Siri and Obi-Wan… but not Padmé.

Al approached the two quickly. "What's going on? Where's Padmé?"

"She's not coming," Obi-Wan explained quickly. "Siri and I are going with you as soon as the afternoon session is over. We need to go to Salkende."

"Salkende?" Al looked at him confusedly. "That's on the other side of the galaxy. And why isn't Padmé coming?"

"We… it's complicated," Obi-Wan said cryptically, looking frustrated. "Just meet us at our usual hangout immediately after the final session."

"Not packing?"

"I don't want to get any more attention than I already have." Obi-Wan sighed. Siri remained silent, looking stormily at her husband. "The sooner we get off-world, the better."

"Right. I'll be there, then." Al nodded, not wanting to ask any more questions. He was still very nervous about Padmé's predicament, but he just had to assume they knew what they were doing. It was all he could do at this point.

With the business complete, Al gave a small bow, which they reciprocated, and they all went their separate ways.

Padmé sat solemnly in her office, staring at her limp hands resting on the desk. She had felt full of nervous energy before—revulsion, terror, desperation… it had coursed through her, making her dizzy, but giving her drive. Now, though… now the deed was done. Now she just felt empty.

She dearly hoped Vader would say no. The entire point was for him to say yes and come along so Obi-Wan and Siri could conduct their business privately, but Padmé just didn't want to deal with that Sith Lord. She was exhausted; she'd had enough. She wanted the vacation that this final recess was designed to provide. She wanted it so badly.

Duty first. She reminded herself. It was the advice the previous monarch had given her when she was coronated six years ago. Her people always came before her; that was the sign of a good ruler, of a good person. Everyone always came before her.

Her office door opened, and Padmé sighed softly. Slowly raising her eyes she expected to see Obi-Wan and Siri returning from their meeting and demanding an explanation.

Darth Vader was there.

Jumping slightly, Padmé immediately tried to plaster a smile to her face. For a terrifying moment she couldn't find the energy to even make eye contact, but the adrenaline quickly kicked in.

"Lord Vader," she acknowledge as she stood and bowed deeply. "I wasn't expecting to see you so quickly after our meeting."

"I accept your proposal." Vader said. "We'll depart from the palace. Wait in the main entranceway and someone will escort you to the proper hangar. We'll leave at 1500."

Padmé raised her eyebrow, caught off guard. "The session ends at 1430."

"Thirty minutes is more than enough time." Vader replied. Then before Padmé could get another word out, he turned and left.

Standing there, Padmé just stared at the door. Well… that was that. Then she collapsed back into her chair and put her face in her hands, blowing out a tired sigh.

The door opened a short time later, and this time it was indeed Obi-Wan and Siri who entered.

"You're here?" Obi-Wan asked, sounding genuinely confused. "What about lunch with Vader?"

"Yeah, you mind explaining what in the blazes is going on?" Siri added harshly.

Padmé lowered her hands and stared at them again, unable to look up. Both Obi-Wan and Siri seemed to register just how drained she was.

She heard Siri sigh. "I'm sorry… Padmé, you should have let us help you deal with him."

Padmé just shook her head.

"Why did you say you were going to Naboo?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

Padmé took a long, deep breath, still staring at her hands with her eyes half closed. Eventually, she answered, "I'm keeping Vader off of you two so you can speak to Senator Tlenden."

She heard the rustling of fabric as Siri immediately began to walk towards the desk, about to argue. Then she heard Obi-Wan stop his wife. Between the two, Obi-Wan had mellowed over the years while Siri's temper had remained pretty easily ignited, but Padmé knew it was because the woman was concerned for her. She did appreciate Obi-Wan's calmer temperament right now, though.

"Padmé, please reconsider," Obi-Wan nearly pleaded in a gentle voice. "You can't handle Vader on your own, not in the state you're in, and certainly not for more than a few hours."

"What's done is done. I've already told Vader, and he's agreed to go to Naboo with me." Padmé explained tiredly. "Join us there when you're done."

"We'll be there," both Obi-Wan and Siri immediately said.

"Don't worry, Padmé – we'll get the issue with Tlenden over with quickly." Siri said.

"He may not even leave for Salkende today," Obi-Wan muttered.

"It doesn't matter – you two can't stay here any longer." Padmé shook her head. "And I'm leaving right after the afternoon session, anyway."

"That soon?" Siri asked worriedly.

"It wasn't your decision, I presume," Obi-Wan remarked darkly.

Padmé halfheartedly smiled and shrugged. "Not really."

She heard both of them sigh and then saw them walk to her side. Finally looking at them, Padmé attempted to smile again, but couldn't quite pull it off. Obi-Wan placed his hand on her shoulder as if to say something, but Siri got on her knees and gathered Padmé in a strong hug. Obi-Wan joined shortly after, and the three just held each other, unable to speak, but sharing what little strength they had left.

The rain started a little after noon. The cloud coverage was so thick sunlight barely penetrated it. The ground on various levels of the city had already accumulated enough water to soak people's feet.

Tarkin kicked at the water as if it would make it move out of his way. He had been prepared to relax this afternoon, but Vader's new predicament changed the agenda very quickly—at least until the Sith Lord left the planet.

Entering the palace, Tarkin stomped and rubbed his feet on the carpeting in the entrance in an attempt to dry them. Looking around the large entranceway he saw that it was barely lit due to the cloudiness. It seemed exceptionally barren as well, but it was normal at this time of day. Everyone was either at lunch or elsewhere in the city.

Tarkin hadn't seen Vader since their conversation; he wasn't sure what the Sith Lord was doing at this point, but he certainly was curious. Heading towards the lift, Tarkin pressed the button for Vader's floor, but the lift stopped at the level of the throne room first. Wondering if he might run into a guard or perhaps even the emperor himself, Tarkin took a step towards the back of the lift to make room. When the doors opened, Vader stood before him.

"Milord," Tarkin acknowledged, a little surprised. He bowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to report to the emperor," Vader replied, carefully addressing the emperor since there were other people in the hall.

"What did he have to say about your trip?" Tarkin asked, very curious to hear the answer.

"He said it was a good idea to seize the opportunity."

The emperor really didn't care if Vader took his sweet time, did he? Well, in either case, it still fit well with Tarkin's plans. "Did you tell him about your discussion with me? Or the kiss?"

"I told him that Senator Amidala wished that I accompany her to Naboo," Vader answered as he hit the button for his floor, not seeming to notice that Tarkin had already done so.

"That's all you said?"

Vader nodded, but his head bobbed a little too much. Tarkin quirked an eyebrow at him. "You still haven't slept, have you?"

The doors to the lift closed and Vader took a deep breath, saying nothing.

"You need to rest," Tarkin warned him. He couldn't be passing out in front of the senator; that would show weakness, and they both knew it.

"Master told me to sleep." Vader finally said.

Tarkin nodded curtly. Good. At least the emperor had some sense between the two of them. Then another question popped into his mind. "How are you two getting to Naboo?"

"I told the senator to come to the palace. We'll take a shuttle from here."

"Have you arranged for that?"

Vader shook his head. "I reported to Master first. I'll take care of it after I awaken."

"You don't need to lose sleep over that," Tarkin stated. "I'll arrange everything. Just pack and rest. What time do you want to leave?"

"1500."

Of course; Vader wasn't going to wait and let the senator have too much time to make any covert arrangements. Tarkin was surprised Vader hadn't said he would just meet her in the senate arena immediately after the session; he presumed the man was still a little wary around her after their last encounter.

"It'll be handled, milord." Tarkin assured the young Sith just as they reached his floor.

Vader nodded in acknowledgement and left.

The room was enormous. High arches held all four walls, and the ceiling was domed and had a mosaic of a beautiful garden. The place was made of stone and marble, and it echoed loudly as the inhabitants spoke in hushed, excited whispers. Fountains could vaguely be heard in the distance. Despite the architecture, it was apparent that this room was a recent addition to the palace; the stone color was slightly lighter than the rest of the palace, and it looked too pristine.

Everyone occupying the room was dressed the same. They all wore the battle outfit provided for handmaidens: black trousers, a magenta top with a skirt coat that reached the back of her knees, and a utility belt with a blaster holster. There was about twenty of them altogether. They had all applied and been trained to become handmaidens, ready to aid whoever was elected as the next monarch of Naboo. But now… now was the moment of truth. A queen had been selected—Padmé (the fact that she had run really shouldn't have surprised her, but knowing that her best friend was queen of the planet was still jarring)—and now it was time for the handmaidens to be matched to her. Out of the twenty, only six would be chosen.

Siri meandered through the crowd, listening to different conversations as they all pondered how they would be selected.

"You're Siri, aren't you?"

Siri turned around to see someone who looked strikingly like Padmé approaching her. She was very young, probably Padmé's age.

"Yeah, that's me." Siri replied, turning to face her fully. "Who are you?"

"My name's Sabé." She introduced herself. "I heard you were the best fighter in the group."

Siri raised an eyebrow. Was she kissing up to her? That wasn't going to make Siri go any easier on her.

"You'll need it for the competition," Sabé continued. "I heard that's what we were doing. We're going to go through some sort of course and compete with each other. But let me warn you – you may be the best fighter, but I'm the best impersonator. We'll both make it as handmaidens, but I'm first in line as a decoy."

Siri barked out a laugh. This Sabé person's confidence was somehow refreshing; the others were either nervous or so competitive they were completely unlikable. "Sure, you can be the decoy; I'll still be the one kicking the most asteroid."

Sabé also laughed. "We'll see."

Siri felt her stomach churn, and she opened her eyes. Echoing voices boomed around the large senate arena as Padmé sat in the center seat of the pod. Obi-Wan, Rekk, and Tsa sat along the right side of the pod, all looking out at whoever was speaking. Siri shifted slightly, putting a hand to her stomach to push away the intense ache that had filled it just thinking about Sabé. The two had been together since Padmé began her term as queen. Sabé had been extremely loyal and was willing to die for her queen. And now she…

Siri shook her head. She supposed Sabé did fulfill that oath. But of all the ways to go… it would have been a more noble death to die taking a blaster bolt or being shot while acting as a decoy, or just kriffing anything apart from what had happened. Sabé probably hadn't even known what was coming. She had never known of Padmé's involvement in the Alliance; yes, she had most certainly suspected something, but the trio had never included her for her own safety.

Kriffing, blasted, sick, twisted Empire. Siri had hated it ever since she was a child. When she had turned twelve she had immediately joined the Naboo Service Corps, both for the adventure and for the opportunity to help… and, yes, maybe also to just see Obi-Wan again; he had enlisted two years before her. In either case, what she had seen was not what she had expected; the atrocities the Empire had done were so unbelievable it sometimes felt like she had been in some sort of HoloNet drama. There was no way people could have been that sick, that cruel… and yet she had seen the repercussions of it over and over again. She had seen the slavery, the murder, the destruction… all of it. By the time she was fourteen she had made a solemn vow to take down the Empire, even if she had to do it by herself.

But then she and Obi-Wan had discovered the Rebel operative, and the idea of joining the Alliance had lingered in her mind for years to come. Eventually Obi-Wan and Siri both agreed to it and brought the issue up with Padmé, who had been queen for a few years by then. They had all thought it would be the best thing they could do: Padmé had thought it would help the helpless and the oppressed, Obi-Wan had thought it would bring peace to the galaxy, and Siri had though it would destroy the Empire. In the end, was it worth it?

Of course it was.

As much as Siri felt guilty for somehow not knowing that Sabé would get involved despite her innocence, she still didn't regret her decisions. As much as she felt like Padmé didn't deserve to be in this mess, that Siri somehow could have done something to ensure her sister-in-law didn't get into such a mess with Darth Vader, she still wouldn't change her life choices. Siri had never been on the front lines of the battles, but she had seen the corpses on the empty battlefields; she had heard the sobs of the families of the fallen; she had experienced enough. And she would fulfill her vow, no matter the cost.

She just sometimes wished Obi-Wan and Padmé hadn't also made similar vows. Still, she loved them all the more for it. There was no one Siri would rather fight alongside with and die with than her husband and sister-in-law.

But Padmé wouldn't be doing anything alongside them if she died alone on Naboo. Siri shuddered, thinking about what was to come; Padmé was going to be with Vader constantly, and without any sort of protection. She hated this plan; she hated every single bit of it. It made no sense to let Padmé go on her own like this. There was no way they could trust that Vader wouldn't take advantage of the situation. Obi-Wan had said they had to trust Padmé's judgment, but Siri didn't think Padmé was using any sort of judgment; not if she was crazy enough to think this was a sound plan. Padmé herself wasn't thrilled with this idea; why were they allowing her to do it, then?

Obi-Wan had barely spoken to Siri on the matter; just after they were shooed out by Padmé the two had quietly and hastily made their way to Al. The trip back had been equally as silent; Obi-Wan often said nothing when he was in a stressful situation. He would be too busy thinking of what was to come. Siri, on the other hand, preferred to think aloud. Inevitably, they both drove each other nuts when they were anxious, but they also calmed each other down.

Looking at her husband, Siri felt her jaw tighten. She had to talk to him before the session was over. They had to agree to fix this before it got any worse. She was definitely ready to throw caution to the winds; all three had basically come to the conclusion that they weren't returning after the final recess. Of course, that also meant that the negotiation with Senator Tlenden would have to go very well and be complete within two weeks. It was possible, but…

Siri shook her head. Obi-Wan could handle talking to Tlenden. Obi-Wan was good at talking to people. Siri was better at demanding rather than negotiating. Patience had never been her strength; she knew how to keep her mouth shut when people pissed her off, but being civil to them was a completely different matter. She had barely held it together with Vader at dinner, but that was because she knew that he could and would kill any of them in an instant if they said something wrong. Tlenden, on the other hand, was somebody who apparently thought that some internal matter was more important than the entire kriffing galaxy. Siri had no tolerance for that. As such, she wouldn't be helpful at the negotiations, so she needed to be with Padmé. Surely she could at least convince Obi-Wan and Padmé of that.

Glancing at her chronometer, Siri realized that the session was coming to an end. People began to file out steadily. Rekk and Tsa exchanged pleasantries with each other and then with Obi-Wan and Padmé. Siri smiled over at Cordé, who smiled grimly in return; she hadn't taken the news of Sabé's death that well, either. Siri felt guilty for not trying to console her, but she had enough on her plate right now. The best help she could offer at this point was to leave and ensure that no one else was threatened by proximity.

After the pod emptied except for the trio, Siri stood and immediately pleaded her case. "Padmé, let me come with you. Obi-Wan can handle the negotiations on his own; you know my temper would probably just get in the way, anyway."

Padmé, who had already begun to look both nervous and even more tired than before, tried to answer. Obi-Wan, however, interrupted her, directing his attention to Siri.

"Darth Vader would suspect something," he said. "It would be odd for you to not travel with me for a vacation."

"You could say it's work related," Siri reasoned.

"Yes, and then we'd have to make up some story, and then Vader would confirm or deny it through Intelligence." Obi-Wan immediately replied.

Siri shut her mouth and gritted her teeth, swearing internally. His logic was sound, but shavit why the hell was Obi-Wan defending Padmé on this? And why the hell couldn't Siri come up with a better argument against it?

Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan put a hand on his wife, and immediately his calming presence entered into her, soothing her frayed nerves. Siri felt her heart rate slow, and the angry, churning knot in her stomach settled somewhat. "Dear, we have to go as planned. It's the only way."

Siri closed her eyes and took a small step towards her husband, almost embracing him, but she held herself in check. Public displays like that were highly frowned upon in the senate building, and while Siri was never one for caring about stupid protocol, she knew better than to make a scene. Still, she just wanted to be held. She just wanted time to freeze and to just be with her husband and not worry about any of this junk.

Feeling her husband turn towards Padmé, Siri heard Obi-Wan say, "We will finish the negotiations as soon as possible, Padmé. We'll come for you on Naboo. Where will you be?"

"Varykino," Padmé answered.

Despite her husband's calming presence, Siri felt herself grow nervous again. Varykino was extremely isolated; it was out in the lake country where property was expansive and private. There wouldn't be anybody else for kilometers.

"After we convince Tlenden to help us, we'll meet you at Varykino, then." Obi-Wan informed her. As soon as he finished speaking, he removed his hand from Siri's shoulder. Opening her eyes, Siri saw him wrap one arm around Padmé, kissing her on the forehead. Looking her in the eye, he whispered, "Be safe."

Padmé nodded, her eyes growing glassy. "I will."

Siri immediately pulled Padmé into a tight hug. Krif protocol. Krif making a scene. She was not going to just sit around and act like Padmé didn't need support. The two held each other for an eternity, neither wanting to let go. "We'll come for you, Padmé. And we'll kick Vader's asteroid if he tries anything."

She felt Padmé relax under the embrace and chuckle softly. "I know you will."

The two released each other from the hug and then Obi-Wan touched Siri's arm as an indication that they should go. Siri suddenly felt her feet freeze in place. She didn't want to leave Padmé. Obi-Wan didn't seem to either, despite his earlier movement; he hadn't taken a single step out of the pod. It was instead Padmé who made the first move. Smiling to them both, she exited the pod and turned down the hallway, vanishing from sight. Siri looked pleadingly at Obi-Wan as if begging him to stop her. He just watched where she had been.

After a few minutes, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and then opened them once more. Stepping towards the exit, he nodded to Siri. "Let's go."

Siri followed mutely, feeling as if she had just said her last goodbye to Padmé.

The palace was relatively quiet today. Servants and slaves were busy at work, but many regional governors and officers were busy elsewhere. Some were going on vacations or tours of their sectors. The officers were at the military bases or Intelligence. The place was so silent and the pouring rain so loud that all one could hear was the pitter patter against the windows. The dull light barely lit the grand hallways.

And then he heard it: a distinct humming and buzzing sound echoing down the hall. It would change pitch often, growing louder and higher as if it were moving, and then it would resume its low hum. A higher pitch would shout suddenly and sporadically, piercing his ears. In his mind he sensed a presence so familiar it was practically his own.

Palpatine turned the corner and entered an internal balcony that overlooked a training room in the floor below. Darth Vader was circling, his eyes covered with some cloth tied around his face. Training droids buzzed all around him, firing at random as he easily deflected all their blasts. He eventually settled in the middle of the room, returning the blaster bolts to their owners. The training droids fell to the ground in a smoking heap. Vader paused in his work only for a moment, probing the Force. Palpatine sensed him lightly touch his consciousness; he was testing the waters to see if Palpatine wanted him to stop. When the emperor said nothing, Vader raised his blade once more and summoned twice as many training droids as before.

After watching the young Sith apprentice dispatch these droids in the same manner as before, Palpatine leaned slightly on the railing and said, "I thought I told you to sleep."

Vader immediately stopped and deactivated his blade. Pulling the cloth off his face, he bowed to Palpatine. "I did sleep, Master."

Palpatine said nothing. Instead, he immediately latched onto the Force and built up immense energy within himself, sending an enormous lightening strike at his apprentice. The young man quickly caught it in his hand and diffused it. Palpatine nodded; yes, he was alert enough now. He had been barely holding himself up before; the foolish boy sometimes forgot about his own well being while on a mission. He never seemed to remember one of the tenets of being a Sith Lord: survival. One would think that would be top priority in anybody's mind, but Vader was far from an ordinary person.

"Is everything arranged for your departure?" Palpatine asked.

"Yes, Master."

Watching Vader, Palpatine lowered his hand and leaned on the railing once more. The latest development in Vader's mission had certainly entertained Palpatine. He knew Amidala was a traitor and needed to be eradicated, but it had to be done just right. Also, the senator would do well as a training tool for his apprentice; there was no sense in letting her life go completely to waste. He would squeeze every last drop of usefulness out of her before she perished.

Nodding to the dismantled training droids, he remarked, "You need more stimulation than what those can offer. Continuing to train with them is foolish and a waste of time."

Vader nodded. "As you wish, Master. Is there anything you would prefer I spar with?"

Palpatine smirked. "Do you remember the training outpost?"

Vader was silent a moment as he pried the memory from his mind. Eventually he acknowledged Palpatine.

"Meet me there." Palpatine ordered.

Vader immediately bowed. "Yes, Master."

The young Sith apprentice immediately departed. Palpatine made his way to a different training room that lay far deeper in the palace. It was large and filled with statues of ancient Sith. Holocrons lined the shelves. The room was dark due to the dull light outside. Palpatine lowered the shades to make it almost pitch black. He strolled to another observation balcony and then gave a droid an order to retrieve the first sparring partner. Without bothering to look for Vader, he took his place on the balcony. He could sense the boy was already there and waiting.

A door opened and stark light blinded both Palpatine and Vader. Palpatine closed his eyes, seating himself right by the railing. Stretching his senses out into the Force, he felt Vader settled in one corner of the room as he filled the space with his consciousness. He also felt the sparring partner enter; it was at its wit's end, thinking erratically, but bloodthirsty for a kill. Palpatine felt himself smile; he never grew tired of seeing broken Jedi placed against his apprentice.

Vader immediately latched onto the Jedi's presence. Palpatine felt the young Sith focus his energy and creep ever closer to the prisoner. When he was halfway there, he gathered an enormous amount of the Force within himself, charging forward with ferocious energy. He didn't activate his blade until he was centimeters from the Jedi's face, and his blade immediately sank into its chest. The Jedi gasped and fell.

Sighing, Palpatine leaned forward. He had expected a quick fight; Vader's prowess was unmatched. However, there was still a vital mistake in his fighting, one that had to be rectified.

"Lord Vader," he summoned. He sensed Vader turn to him and heard him genuflect. "You are ignoring my teachings."

Ah, there it was. The Force immediately cried with shame, anger, resentment, hurt, and concern. It hit Palpatine like an explosion, but instead of lingering, it immediately vanished as if it had never been there. Palpatine remembered the first time he had ever sensed the eruption from his apprentice; he had physically flinched, not expecting it. Now he was used to it, but it was more frustrating than ever. Vader had such potential; every time Palpatine sensed those emotions, he sensed how powerful his apprentice could be. But the boy never let himself grow that powerful; he never used his emotions as fuel for fighting.

"On what matter have I disobeyed you, Master? How do you need me to improve?" Vader asked. His voice held none of the emotions Palpatine had sensed seconds before; the boy had them tightly under control once more.

"You are a Sith Lord," Palpatine snarled, shooting to his feet. "Recite the code."

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through—"

"That is precisely the problem." Palpatine interrupted him. "You have no passion. A Sith Lord uses his anger as a weapon. You almost act like a Jedi in your manner of fighting."

He felt a ghost of pain; whether it was his own exasperation or the boy's he wasn't sure. In either case, Vader remained silent.

"Use your anger, Lord Vader," Palpatine ordered. "Don't just defeat your next opponent—destroy it."

Motioning for the droid to bring another deranged Jedi (Palpatine had plenty from the purge; all he had to do was capture them and break their minds. It was simple and entertaining enough.), Palpatine sat back in his seat and awaited the next battle.

Vader barely waited for the next opponent to enter before literally cutting him into three pieces. Palpatine sighed. He still felt nothing from the boy.

"Brutality is not anger," Palpatine snapped as he shot to his feet, walking down to the main floor. "Summon forth your anger, Vader. Feel it."

Vader stood before him, his brow twitching slightly. Palpatine could sense it through the Force as the boy seemed to claw at everything in his environment to spark something that he couldn't even grasp. Eventually, the boy got down on one knee once more.

"Forgive me, Master. If I cannot serve you then I am of no use. Give the order and I will—"

"Silence," Palpatine hissed. Then he felt something twinge within him. His apprentice's devotion was extremely satisfying; Palpatine knew treachery would never be an option in the boy's mind. Something about the boy's loyalty made Palpatine feel odd; he wasn't sure what it was, but his anger diminished greatly and he just sighed heavily. Motioning for his apprentice to stand, Palpatine said, "Go prepare for your mission, my apprentice. This issue of yours will resolve itself in time."

Vader rose and bowed deeply, departing. Yes, the issue would resolve itself; that's what this mission was all about.

The rain was heavier than it had been in weeks. It was almost as if nature itself was fighting her every step. The wind nearly threw her off her feet, and she was soaking wet by the time she reached her apartment. Padmé shivered as she entered, immediately going to her room to dry off. After dressing more comfortably for travel, she looked bleakly at a luggage bag. She really hated herself for coming up with this idea. But it had to be done.

Packing her clothes and other accoutrements, Padmé felt herself slowing more and more. Fighting the weather had worn her out even more, and her emotional exhaustion was making itself more known physically. She wasn't sure she'd be able to make to the palace at this point. Glancing at the chronometer, she gasped; it was almost 1500. It would be a miracle if she could get to the palace on time at this rate.

Yanking the luggage off her bed, Padmé rushed out of her apartment, ensuring she had everything and that it was locked. She then hastily called for a taxi and was on her way to the palace. The flight was relatively quick, and she was a little grateful for it; the sooner she just started to get this over with, the better.

Exiting the taxi, Padmé looked at the palace. The monstrous building towered over everything in the vicinity. A large plaza stood in front of it with extravagant fountains flanking a statue of the emperor. Padmé shuddered, shaking off a wave of nausea. She walked to the large entrance stairs and told the guards who she was. They allowed her to pass, and she timidly made her way inside.

The entrance foyer was larger than some of the grandest rooms in Theed's royal palace. It was colored in blood red carpets and tapestries, and flora from many different worlds lined the charcoal colored walls. A large crystal chandelier hovered in the center of the room, shining light in the darkened area since the sunlight couldn't pierce through the dark clouds. The carpets seemed to muffle the echoes that would typically indicate the size of the room, but that somehow made it seem all the more daunting. Not only was she in this monumental space, but it was deathly quiet too; Padmé shuddered once again.

"Senator."

Jumping, Padmé turned to see Grand Moff Tarkin approaching her. She bowed stiffly. "Governor."

"Lord Vader is waiting for you," Tarkin stated. "Follow me."

Padmé obeyed, carrying her luggage and silently following the governor's lead. They went to a side passage and entered a lift, leading to another winding hall. Eventually the two arrived in a large hangar that held a single ship. It was active, its engines humming and causing a harsh wind to whip around the area.

Darth Vader stood by the entrance ramp. With a slight nod he acknowledged Padmé wordlessly before boarding without any other indication or formality. Padmé took a deep breath and squeezed her luggage to stop her hand from trembling. Nodding once more to Tarkin, she walked to the ship and up the ramp. Vader was nowhere to be seen; she supposed he went to his own quarters. The ship was a standard Imperial diplomatic shuttle, so she knew the layout well enough. Padmé made her way to a guest room and threw her luggage on the floor, collapsing on the bed.

Well, she was stuck here, for better or for worse. She had gotten herself into this mess; she had to deal with it, and she had to take advantage of it.

Hopefully this wouldn't royally backfire on her.