Palpatine's personal ship named the Emperor was slightly rocking back and forth on the short but obnoxious trip to Naboo. He had always liked the sound of that word—emperor, it had a certain...feel to it.

Palpatine was in his boudoir sifting through his papers from the Youth Senatorship Academy. It was a vain attempt to distract his mind from the child, Javios, now he knew its name. And he hated it.

He typed into his HoloNet computer looking up in its database about the rise of the Republic. Palpatine was furiously attempting to get his schoolwork done he would miss for the next few days. It was much more than he had bargained for, but he was willing to do it. He wouldn't miss his sister's wedding for the world.

The child's dead gaze kept haunting him. He knew Girris' death should have been more frightening, more personal since he was his guard, but it wasn't. Palpatine couldn't quite understand how the death of a guard he had known for at least a few years wasn't as heartbreaking as the death of some random child.

He supposed the one explanation could be that he had always thought of Girris as a tool, something that was expendable. Yet the child, he had led it to his doom, but he had futilely thought about saving it. He tried to push the thoughts of the child from his mind.

Now, he had another tool. Plagueis had lent Fex as a temporary escort due to Girris' unfortunately...permanent absence.

While being an expert swordswoman she also was proficient in flying ships, which Palpatine couldn't do for his life. Well, he could do it, under dire circumstances, but if he valued his life, he might not take the chance. Palpatine lacked the temperament for piloting.

Palpatine also suspected that Plagueis had a more subtle reason for lending Fex.

She was there to watch him. Why? That was the same question Palpatine was asking himself. There were a thousand conclusions he could draw. The most disturbing conclusion that came to mind was: did Plagueis not trust him?

Palpatine's neck snapped to his HoloComm as a dull voice crackled over the line. It was Fex. "Come up to the bridge. We are approaching Naboo." Palpatine glanced at his papers and sighed. The last one he had to complete was Sith Mythology. That would have to wait.

Palpatine spoke into the HoloComm. "I shall be there momentarily."

Palpatine entered the bridge, he loomed behind the pilot seat with one hand on the top of the chair. Fex was guiding the Emperor along seamlessly pass the endless stream of ships entering and exiting Naboo.

"What's happening?" Palpatine asked as he squinted at the display. It appeared that Naboo space traffic was worse than usual. The checkpoint station ahead was overflowing with ships. In the windows people were scurrying to and fro. "Why are we at a standstill?"

Fex let out a long sigh before flipping a few switches on the cockpit display. "It's the end of the standard galactic week. Many people are going on day trips to Naboo." She kicked up her feet on the monitor and leaned back in her chair. "My guess, sir, is we're not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Boots off my monitor, Fex." Palpatine told his guard sternly as he sat down in the co-pilot seat.

Fex looked over at Palpatine with a bitter look before kicking them off and leaning forward in her chair. They spent a few minutes staring at the traffic, the Emperor edging forward an inch every five minutes.

Time crawled by as the minutes turned into hours. Palpatine checked his HoloBand and realized he was an hour later than he had promised his mother.

His hand was entangled in his red hair as he was leaned over and kept skimmed the words of his Sith Mythology HoloBook. At this point, he wasn't even processing the words anymore. An angry knot was welling up in his chest threatening to explode any minute.

Palpatine glanced up for the second time in one minute at the progress of the traffic. THIS IS ABSURD! OUTRAGEOUS! I BET SEVENTY-FIVE PERCENT OF THESE MORONS DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE.

Fex remained glacially calm, appearing to enjoy watching the steady stream of traffic. She kept taking uncouth sips from her water flask. He knew that Kallerans needed water continuously due to their amphibious origins, but her slurping was unbearable.

Palpatine took a pretentious sip from his Raging Rancor. It was his third one thus far. He knew the time change would be brutal, switching from Coruscant and Naboo within only a few days but the sweetened caf would help. Palpatine tossed his now empty Raging Rancor can into an almost overfilling trash can beside him and wretched open a small fridge by his feet.

He offered to Fex. "Would you like a Raging Rancor?" Palpatine held up a second can. Raging Rancor cans had a smaller opening which would perhaps reduce the obscene slurping.

Fex shook her head. "No, thanks." She put a hand to her chin. "Actually, I think I'll get a cup of caf tea. Do you have any on board?" she asked Palpatine as she stood up.

"Of course, I do." Palpatine scoffed as though it was even a preposterous thing to ask.

Fex ignored his comment. "Thanks." She started towards the back of the ship then she called back. "Don't touch anything. I'll be back in a minute."

Palpatine grimaced as he popped the lid of his fourth Raging Rancor and took a sip. Whenever he took any more than two Raging Rancors his heart would start to race which was perhaps unhealthy but thrilling, nonetheless. The serving size for Raging Rancor was three and no more due to safety hazards. Apparently, it severely impaired your judgement.

He muttered to himself. "This is my ship. Who does she think she is telling me that? I can't touch anything in my own ship?"

Palpatine sighed deeply as he looked at the time. He began muttering about his brother, Predune, and Predune's husband. "I'll be the last one to arrive. Ugh...Predune and Hearth have probably arrived on time. Its just me that's late..."

He knew it wasn't a competition between Predune and himself, yet he always felt like it was. Predune was perfectly nice, an embodiment of sunshine.

Predune was an athlete at the Academy while sickly looking Palpatine spent his time sitting in the stale smelling Academy library. His brother was a successful businessman, and he was to inherit the vineyard.

While Palpatine had no interest at all in the vineyard or his home, Palpatine resented the favoritism, nonetheless. It was painfully obvious how proud his father was of Predune.

Palpatine didn't realize he had been slightly crushing his Raging Rancor in his hand. He had been crouched over in his chair and now, he looked up, straightening his back. Palpatine splayed his hands before him, reaching out to the controls of the Emperor. "No...I refuse to be late a moment longer. To blazes with all these fools."

He knew a bit about flying spaceships, not much but enough. Palpatine edged the velocity up, only to jolt the ship abruptly forward and slam into the ship in front of him.

His eyes went wide. "Oh dear..."

"What in the blazes?!"

Predune rubbed his eyes as he stirred. He assumed his husband was complaining about the traffic yet again. Predune sat up in his co-pilot seat glancing over at Hearth. Beads of sweat were collecting on Hearth's light blue skinned temples. Hearth's cropped jet-black hair gleamed under the blue light of their ship, the Azure Gale.

Well, technically it was Hearth's ship, he had after all liked to stay true to his home world Aruza. And Predune was hopeless as a pilot, which seemed to be a theme in his family with one single exception.

Thankfully, he didn't share all his family's traits. It was curious how he and his brother were so different. While he was tall and muscular, his brother, Sheev, was short and skinny. Predune didn't exactly gloat but everyone around him took notice of it.

"What happened?" Predune leaned forward, studying Hearth's expression and trying to remain calm. The blue light had evaporated and had been replaced with blaring red lights. Alarms were going off.

Hearth was frantically scrambling, flipping switches and pressing buttons. Predune looked around helplessly, he truly did want to help but alas the ship life wasn't for him. Although he couldn't pilot, he was useful for punching in coordinates and keeping the 's computer organized.

Hearth shouted. "SOME IDIOT BUMPED INTO US!" he grumbled loudly as he switched on the rear-view camera. There was a noticeable space behind them as Predune and Hearth both peered into the camera. The ship that had bumped into them had moved. In the corner of the screen Predune saw the perpetrator, blue lettering was written on the side.

Predune's eyes flickered up from the camera to the cockpit view. "There!" the perpetrator zipped by in the droid control lane, an illegal move. Predune made out the name of the ship. "The Emperor?" he said aloud. It was a bold name for sure.

Hearth sighed deeply. "Some kid, I bet. Doesn't even know what they're doing." He glanced at Predune. "It's definitely a kid who needs a lesson." A mischievous smile lifted the corners of his lips, "What do you think, Predune?" Predune knew all too well what that smile meant.

Predune groaned. "You know what I'm going to say: No—"

Hearth laughed, "Aaaaand...I'm going to ignore that." He seamlessly hit the throttle and zipped into the droid control lane.

Predune had learned in his three years of being married to Hearth that double strapping yourself in would be wise. He still clenched the armrests of the co-pilot seat as the ship zipped ahead. "Here we go again." Predune murmured wearily.