Hello all! I hope you're enjoying the story so far! I can't believe I have gotten as many views as I have, and only four chapters in too! And though its probably not nearly enough to warrant it being addressed like this, I just can't help it because you all make me really excited! Especially when I read your reviews! So THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! And If you have any questions feel free to ask and I will try my best to do so without spoiling anything.

But before you all get typing I'll try to address some points here first. I see that some people want to see the badass Sith Lord Vader sooner, but I'm afraid Anakin is going to stay a scared little child for just a bit longer. I want you to see his progression from innocent boy to heartless sith lord in more detail, it will add weight to the story later on when things start to develop more. So hang tight, he will become the all-powerful badass we all love in good time! When he does he will be awesome! :D

Will Anakin see his mom anytime soon? Well, as much as he wants to I don't think Dooku is going to let him out of his sight anytime in the near future so the answer to that is… highly unlikely, unfortunately.

So, in short. Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. You're going to see more of baby Vader. Less of Schmi, and A WHOLE LOT OF SHITHY ANGST. Enjoy! x

He wakes suddenly from a tormented sleep. A certain mindless discomfort are all the clues he has to what nightmare he had been experiencing. A small gasp escapes his mouth and his eyes flash open. Fear and pain ripple through his body. For a second, just a second, he is about to call for mom. But the cold dark room he finds himself in reminds him that he is far from home.

He lies there for a minute, with breathing harsher than usual, and looks at the towering ceiling. It climbs higher and higher until the walls disappear into a black mist above. One deep breath. It was just a dream. Another deep breath. Dreams aren't real. He focuses on the present, turning his head to look at the small space he now sleeps in. His room is almost completely empty, spare the Dura steel desk in the far corner of the room. And devoid of any devices bar a chronometer, whose shrill beeps break the heavy silence that seems to fill the air.

It's time to get up and get dressed. Dooku doesn't like it when he's late. But every cell in his body screams for just five more minutes. To just.. close his eyes, only for a moment. Only a Little longer. No. He shakes his head, as if to shake rid himself of those thoughts. Last time he was late Dooku made him do so many push-ups he couldn't even lift his arms over his head afterwords. And that was only yesterday. Who knows what Dooku would do if he was late twice in a row.

With a face scrunched in determination, he swings his legs around to the floor. Which is freezing to the touch. Everything about his room is cold. From the rims of the bed to the icy sting of the air. It's as cold as space. With a reluctant sigh, he gets up and walks over to the wall adjacent to his bed, then presses the light switch. Dim white lights flicker to life along the walls, instantly brightening a room void of anything worth illuminating. He flicks anther switch, and the grinding of hidden gears pushes out one of many concealed drawers within the wall.

He puts on a dark shirt and matching trousers. The worst part about his uniform is the sheer amount of layers that it requires. First is the shirt, then several different overlapping tunics which must be individually secured at the waist with hidden straps. Along with pair of boots which must be strapped to his trousers. Followed by a light set of flexible armor to cover his shoulders and chest. Not that he particularly minds the complicated and rather grueling procedure that he now does whenever he dresses himself, it's just that it takes time that he would rather spend sleeping. Rest is a much sought after luxury here.

Annoyingly, the straps of the first layer don't quite make it around his waist on the first try. Blinking tiredly, he grabs the straps firmer and forces them in place. This outfit is getting a bit small for him, and that thought alights a brief flurry of dejection. It goes as quickly as it comes, and as he simmers in the emptiness that emotion brought, he remembers. Today is his tenth birthday. Not that he would have remembered if the straps hadn't reminded him. A mellow feeling of disappointment washes over him, if only briefly. Neither Dooku nor Palpatine celebrate birthdays. In fact, he was sure neither of them had even bothered to ask him when his birthday actually was. And so, for his past five birthdays, Anakin found himself coming to the bleary observation that that day marked his separation from his mother at a random point during the day. The first one had been the worst; just before he settled into a session of evening study, it had hit him. He cried when he remembered. Thankfully neither of his masters were around to see. Now however, he just finds himself feeling distantly melancholy. Anakin wonders if mom still remembers. He walks over to his desk and opens its drawer, Looking inside and spotting its only occupant instantly; the pristine surface of the hyper spanner reflects his face back unto him, and suddenly he finds himself looking into his own eyes. It had been five years today since he last saw her. Five long years without her embrace. Did she still miss him? Or had she moved on? A prickle of fear bites into the back of his neck. She wouldn't forget him, would she? Breathing out an uneasy breadth, he glances at his chronometer. Its 7:55, and he has to make his way through the palace to the dining room for breakfast before 8:00. He didn't have time to worry about this right now. Mentally he mentally pulls himself together and steels himself for another day. Palpatine says worry is a weak emotion anyway.

He closes the drawer, leaves his room, and heads down one of the many huge corridors within the palace. Tall black columns rooted to a polished floor hold up a large, slowly curving ceiling. Streams of green-tinted light stream through a line of green-tinted Windows. The corridor leads to a set of spiral stairs, which leads to another corridor, at the end of which is one of two dining rooms in the residential sector of the palace. There is also another dining room closer to the main hall, which would be used on formal occasions or when dining with guests. Though Anakin rarely sees the inside of that room, and can't even really remember where exactly it is. Dooku always uses it when Palpatine visits, but Anakin is never allowed inside.

He trots down the large set of stairs and hurries along a corridor so large an entire street of slave families could have lived in it. To be late by even a second would merit punishment in the counts eyes, so he makes up for all the time he can now by running up to the large pair of ornately carved wooden doors, almost five times his height, that mark the entrance to the dining room. He swallows hard, crossing his fingers and hoping that taking the time to look at his last present hadn't cost him to much time, and pushes the door open.

There is a large, twenty person table inside. Made from a deep dark wood polished to the point that you could see your own reflection in it. Dooku sits on the opposite end to the entrance, at the front of the table. A cup sits quaintly beside him, yawning out long streams of steam. A plate of colorful fruit lies below him, another to the counts left, where Anakin will sit. A serving droid waits by the single large, clear window at the back of the room, which allows for a view of the endless forests surrounding the palace.

"Good morning, master" Anakin says.

Without even acknowledging his existence, Dooku wordlessly glances at the time. Anakin waits for some sort of response, but Dooku gives none, neither condemning him nor praising him. It's almost as if he is drawing out the wait to just toy with him. Anakin bites back his growing uneasiness, clenching his fists together behind his back as he does so.

After several very long, tense seconds, Dooku finally turns and nods curtly at Anakin. "Apprentice"

He sighs inwardly with relief, Dookus rather plain response meant that he is probably just on time. He cautiously makes his way to his seat. The large, hand-crafted and cushioned chair he sits on is drastically different for any chair he would have sat on Tatooine.

Picking up a fork, he begins to tuck into his breakfast. Dooku, as usual, is ignoring him, favoring the data-pad to his side. Which could hold a whole manor of treasures inside. The count idly flicks through whatever he is looking at before taking a neat bite out of his breakfast. The curiosity quickly begins to eat away at all of Anakin's resolve, eventually forcing him to try his best to inconspicuously peer at whatever the count is looking at.

He really shouldn't, but nobody ever tells him anything and that data-pad probably holds an entire plethora of useful knowledge inside. Information is also a much sought after luxury here. While Anakin can rattle off all the senators currently in office on Coruscant, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone the first thing about count Dooku or Palpatine. They're enigmas to him. Them and their plans. On the rare occasions that Palpatine does come to visit, he always tells Anakin that he must train harder, because he is the key to the 'great ascension of the Sith'. But they won't tell him anything more other than the fact that he is important.

Just as Anakin leans forward enough to allow his eyes to graze over the information on the data pad, Dooku looks up at him. Anakin jolts back and fixes his eyes on his breakfast. He holds his breadth, but can feel warmth in his face, signifying that he was likely blushing. A cold fear simmers in his gut. Out of all the luxuries denied to him, mercy is the one he wishes for the most. But that is a gift rarely bestowed by the Sith. Dooku, again, remains frustratingly silent, he feels the force signature of the Count brush against his mind, making him flinch.

"Tell me Anakin, what is the role of the apprentice" Dooku asks with an odd calm that instantly puts him on edge. Dooku only ever uses that tone on certain occasions. Very specific occasions Anakin would very much like to forget.

Anakin instantly recalls the definition of a Sith apprentices role. "To obey his master's command, and to learn from him" He answers quickly. Dooku asks this question a lot.

Another long silence from the count. By now, Anakin is almost sure that he is drawing out the wait just to inflate his anxiety.

"And when did you learn to pry into your masters personal records without any prior command to do so? " Dooku says, using the same casual tone.

Anakin bites his lip, and can feel a cold sweat surging through his veins. He never knows what to say in situations like these, because even though Dooku sounds at ease, Anakin knows that underneath his mask there is a monster waiting to pounce at the slightest mistake.

"I wasn't prying master" He says, hoping that maybe he can convince the count that he is innocent, despite that fact that he isn't.

"I asked you a question" The counts says, his tone ever so slightly more threatening.

"I-I never learned to pry into your- I mean my masters records, master"

"Apparently you were learning to lie instead" Dooku says sharply. He suddenly stands, causing a bolt of fear to strike Anakin like lightning.

"What is your role?" He asks again, all the while glaring down at the young boy with fiery yellow eyes that were brown a moment before.

"To obey, and to le-"

"To Obey" Dooku cuts in before Anakin can finish.

"Since you're not Obeying, I can see that you obviously aren't a worthy sith apprentice" That word. It always causes a fiery anxiety slam straight into Anakin's chest every single time its uttered. Worthy. Palpatine chose him. Palpatine says he is the key. Palpatine says he has to be his best, all the time. Yet all the time Dooku calls him unworthy.

Anakin's face instantly darkens, and Dooku knew it. He felt the surging emotions crashing within the boy. Of course, the word worthy is always the safe, reliable card to play. Dooku knows Anakin has to feel worthy, because if he isn't worthy to be here, then he would have been ripped away from everything he cared about for nothing. And that feeling of being denied everything for nothing brings the boy to his knees quicker than any punishment Dooku has ever carried out on him.

"Who are you?" Dooku asked, his tone less threatening.

"Darth Vader" Anakin replied instantly.

"Are you?"

"Yes, master"

"Does Darth Vader disobey those teaching him?"

"No, master"

"Would Darth Vader carry out any task commanded of him by his superiors?"

"Yes, master"

Dooku scoffed, crossed his arms, and leaned into Anakin's personal space.

"Then you are not Darth Vader"

"I-I Am master" Anakin insists, suddenly growing a lot more anxious.

A smile slid across Dookus face. "Then prove it"

Obi-Wan gazes out large, oval-shaped window of the meditation chamber, soaking up the brilliant cityscape before him. Its towering buildings casting long, tired shadows indicating a slow creep into the darkness of the coming night. Obi-wan sighs; he should be meditating, that's what he always comes here to do, yet he often finds himself doing the opposite; brooding. His master is dead. Dead and gone at the hands of a Sith. A sith, who he only just managed to kill. A sith, who had awoken within him an inner turmoil he was not yet ready for. His master is dead. Even though a year has already passed, the pain he feels over Qui-Gon's death is not yet gone. A Jedi should rejoice when one dies, for they are being released into the force. A Jedi should be at peace knowing that all who leave are joined into the force itself, to live forever as part of its collective energy. A Jedi should take consolation in that the force will always be there to guide them, no matter the circumstances. Yet Obi-Wan felt little joy, even less serenity, and no peace.

Traffic lanes crowded with hundreds upon hundreds of speeders zip by. Every speeder representing at least one person, who, in all likelihood is blissfully unaware of all the horrors the universe holds. If only he could be like them; existing without waking up every morning to remember that the Sith now pose a very real threat to the galaxy. A war was coming. His master's death signaled the beginning of the Siths awakening, everyone can feel it. The council is being more cautious than ever. The knights are jumpy. The padawans restless. He even more so. To have been the first person to kill a Sith in over a thousand years, it's no surprise that he is feeling a little shaken up. He closes his eyes and he see's Mauls yellow eyes, bright with a ravenous hunger to kill. He sees the red blade pierce his masters stomach, watches him fall helplessly to the ground. Those yellow eyes, nothing can represent something so cruel, so violent, so unrelenting, so inhumane as those yellow eyes.

As the chronometer ticks steadily past the nineteenth hour, the sky gives way to an explosion of yellows and purples. The day's final burst of color before the inevitable night. Obi-Wan takes in the beauty of the sky before him, observing silently as lights flicker in the windows of the towering skyscrapers. He furrows his brow in resilience; he had felt the very real pain of grief and had wallowed in it for almost a year. But is a knight now. He is truly a member of the Jedi order, and as such, it's his duty to uphold all of their virtues. The darkness may be coming, but he will be ready. His master will not have died in vain. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and with some difficulty, releases his emotions to the force. Then, he turns from the window and sits, cross-legged, upon the meditation mat in the center of the room. There is no passion, there is peace.

A storm is coming, but the rain it brings always allows for life to grow. Obi-Wan has been through the storm. He has felt the very real pain of grief and has wallowed in it for almost a year. Has endured the cascading torrents of Mauls fevered assault. He takes in another deep breath, and allows the force to flow freely through him. Now, he will blossom to life, he will grow tall and dependable. He will be ready to weather whatever was to come. He is a Jedi knight, and no storm will break him. No loss will cripple him. No war will thwart him. No Sith will ruin him. The force washes away his grief as he surrenders to the light side. Qui-Gon is gone, but his teachings will live on through him. There is no death, there is the force.

It's dark. Anakin inches forward, trying in vain to gain some sort of awareness from his surroundings. Dooku had thrown him into the large training room underneath the castle, and had flicked off the lights without giving Anakin so much as a hint as to what would come next. He can feel small prickles of fear tickling the back of his neck, causing an outburst of Goosebumps to run along his skin. He has to prove himself once more; prove that he is worthy to be Sith. Yet Anakin doesn't truly know what that word means.

"Obedience is the singular trait every apprentice holds" Dooku's voice echoes throughout the room. "No matter his own motives or desires, the apprentice always obeys"

Anakin takes a tentative step forward, with fists clenched nervously. He is unsure. He wants to prove himself, he wants to be obedient. Yet to obey one must first be able to complete the order given to them. There is a groaning of movement around him. But Anakin can't pinpoint it in the darkness. He shifts his weight in preparation to some sort of conflict, reaching for the newly constructed lightsaber resting peacefully on his belt.

"Now, apprentice, you will kill your advisories"

The groaning gets louder, he hears hatches opening, then a ragged breath. The force warns of foreign life nearby, echoes of fear and confusion similar to his own simmer in the distance.

Suddenly a brilliantly blue lightsaber bursts to life a few feat away from him, illuminating the face of a teen a few years older than him. His dirty brown hair is tossed and messy, and the makings of a beard frame his youthful face. A long braid of hair hangs towards his shoulder, the tell-tale symbol of a Jedi padawan.

"Kota?" The padawan asks warily.

"Anim?" A distinctly feminine voice calls back. It's a young voice, one belonging to someone a few years behind him. Anakin grips the hilt of his lightsaber in shaking hands full of high-strung fear and adrenaline. Kill your advisories.

"Kota, where are you?" He asks again.

Anakin creeps towards the boy. He cannot fail, he cannot endure any more of Dooku's sick punishments.

"I-I'm coming towards you" The young girl reply's

He draws closer, but not close enough to allow any light to fall unto him.

"Don't be afraid Kota, we'll get out of here" the padawan says, turning his face away from Anakin as he attempts to get an idea of his surroundings.

Anakin takes the opportunity to strike; igniting his blood-red blade and a millisecond later slashing down towards the padawans shoulder. But his advisory senses him, darting his head around and drawing his lightsaber up to block Anakin's' just before the blade makes contact with flesh. An instant later and the boys are dueling viciously in the darkness. Anakin concentrates on the singular glowing blue blade whirling around in front of him, the padawan is taller than Anakin, and stronger too. Before he knows it he is on the defensive, and being forced backwards into the unknown behind.

"Anim!" The girl shouts from the darkness. The padawan pays her no heed, his eyes are locked on Anakin's. Anakin puts his gaze past their lightsabers and to what they are illuminating. As the blades twirl he catches sight of the padawans body, his pose is wrong, the right leg to far forward. A weakness to exploit. Anakin blocks another heavy strike from the padawan before quickly swiping at his legs, the padawan jumps into the air and kicks Anakin in the head as he does so. Sending him flying backwards. Sharp pain erupts from his chin as he falls to the cold ground. A blue blade swings towards his face. He rolls, just dodging the hit. Anakin stands and just manages to regain his balance before the padawan is on him again.

"Use your anger" The count commands distantly.

"Blasted sith!" The padawan shouts and swings for Anakin's' neck. He dodges again, his breath becoming more audible under the strain of the fight.

Their blades clash a second later as the relentless padawan pushes his assault. Anakin trys to conjure up a rage to match his advisories but only finds fear within him. Another powerful belt against Anakin's blade sends shivers down his arms. The padawan clashes again, so hard that Anakin has to use the force to match the strength in the strike. As Anakin focuses all of his force energy on deflecting the attack, the padawan takes advantage and releases a wave of energy that sweeps him off his feet as he fly's backwards. His back rams into the hard wall. His vision is starry and for a few moments he can't orientate himself.

The padawan uses the force to charge towards him, roaring, his lightsaber raised for the kill. But just as the blue blade is about to strike him down as pair of small hands latch onto the padawans and freeze them in place.

"No! Not in anger!" The young girl cries.

Suddenly, the lights flicker on, and Anakin's' gaze falls upon his savior; a young twi'lek girl with muted green skin. She wears the clothing of a Jedi youngling, though her small tunic in tattered and frayed, with burn marks on the edges. Her pudgy, young face is filled with dread and torment. She can't be more than six. The padawan's gaze leaves Anakin and turns to the girl, and that fire in his eyes dim significantly. He looks as if he was been caught in the act of some heinous crime, the padawan suddenly drops his lightsaber and takes several terrified steps away from Anakin.

"Be tactical apprentice" Dooku hisses.

Anakin, for a moment, doesn't know what to do. After a few seconds he gets up and takes the padawans lightsaber off the ground. The girl watches him warily, her steady, green eyes denoting a wisdom surpassing her age. He is blown away; this girl saved his life. He should be on his knees thanking her. Not contemplating her death.

"They must die"

In an instant, fear strikes him again. Stabbing in the center of his heart like a dagger. But this time, he isn't afraid for himself.

The girl's eyes don't leave his for a second, yet her gaze isn't angry, or threatening, or even fearful. Its controlled, its understanding.

"You don't have to do this, you know" She says evenly.

The dagger twists in his chest. How can he kill her after she saved his life?

The padawan, disarmed and defeated, is now shaking visibly.

"P-please, kill me not her. I'm the one you want" He pleads.

"I can feel the light within you" The girl continues. "You're lying to yourself"

"Finish them, apprentice" Dooku barks suddenly, making everyone jump. "Or you will face the consequences of your indecision"

Memories of Dooku ripping through his mind with the force send shock-waves of dread through his system. He hesitates, something inside of him stilling his hand, rooting his feet in place.

"Who are you?" Dooku prompts, his voice rising. Anakin doesn't answer intimately. "Who are you?" Dooku asks again, more forcefully this time.

"Darth Vader" Anakin whispers.

"Who?"

"D-Darth Vader"

"Does Darth Vader show mercy to the weak?"

"N-no"

"Does the Sith apprentice obey his master?" Dooku said, his voice raising to the point to where he was nearly shouting.

Anakin is silent, adrenaline courses through his body. His hands clench tighter around the hilt of the blade. HIs muscles are constricting so tightly that the slightest pressure will set them into deadly action.

"Does he?!"

He shuts his eyes, every cell in his body trembles with unreleased power, with fear, with revulsion, with so many emotions he can hardly contain himself.

"Who are you?!"

The blade activates, and in the blink of an eye Anakin slices through the young girl beside him, crying out as he does so. The padawan cry's with him.

His knees are weak, his hair sticks to his forehead. He opens his eyes, hatred and revulsion for the horrific act he just committed fueling a hidden power within him. Fueling the dark side. His first murder. The padwan takes a fearful step back. Anakin feels wet tears spread down his cheek, but he moves forward anyway. He runs into the padawan, stabbing him in the gut with another pained cry.

He Looks up to see blood pour out of the padawans mouth. His eyes glaze over and he falls away as Anakin removes the blade. He feels cold, so cold. His clothes stick to him, his breaths come erratically. There is a short silence.

"Who are you?" The count asks once more, calmer this time.

Anakin takes a deep breath, only to exhale a shaky one. It's done. He killed them. The dark side latches further unto his emotions, pulling away his fear and guilt and replacing it with power. Sheer, uncontrolled, power. Power that is so blinding it almost burns him. Every fiber of his being is alive, more alive than they have ever been. Waves of anger pulse through him. He is a monster, he killed them. Yet the thought only makes the roaring assault of the dark side stronger. The strength steadies his shaking hands. Dries up his watery eyes. Who was he? Would Anakin do this? Would a slave rise up to kill another like he had? No. Would a Sith?

Anakin's face tightens. His muscles tense in anticipation. He holds his head up high, and looks towards Dooku, who stands upon the observation balcony above him.

"I am Darth Vader"