Meet the Family of a Homicidal Sith Teenager

"How is the politician program?" Palpatine's father asked. The distance between them was evident.

Palpatine took a deep breath and responded as calmly as he could. "It's the Youth Senator ship program not a politician program."

"A Youth Senator. A politician. What's the difference?" his father told his son with an edge in his voice.

Palpatine sighed and changed the subject. "How's mother?"

"Good." His father said shortly.

"That's good. How's Mairda?"

"Good."

"How are you?"

"Fine."

The father and son avoided each other's gazes.

"Let's go see the others." Palpatine suggested and he strode on past his father.

"I agree." His father said stiffly.

The father and son walked alongside each other. A shroud of silence fell over them. Palpatine twisted his ring as they walked through the canopy of vines on either side of them.

Palpatine side glanced at his father. It seemed that his father had yet to support his decision to join the Youth Senator ship program. Palpatine had joined a preparation program about four years ago and his father must have known it was inevitable. When Palpatine left for Coruscant to join the actual program rather than keep studying for it in the academy. Let's just say…it was a rough day on both sides.

He's a salesman. What's the difference between a politician and a salesman? Very little. Why is he pretending that we're so different? That politicians are so much viler than a salesman. We are both designed to be deceitful.

After a few painstaking minutes, the silence was broken by his father. "Inspector Zarem Girris called when you and Predune first landed."

"Ah…he did." Palpatine recalled his murdered guard's father. Palpatine furrowed his brows. "He switched to Naboo again? I thought he was staying as a police officer on Coruscant for good?"

His father kept his tone steady. "No. Nuvan Girris' father is still stationed on Coruscant. His mother is doing the investigation for the sky-rage." His father arched a knowing eyebrow at Palpatine. His son's cheeks burned.

"Sky-rage? I would hardly call it that—"

"Sheev, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend that the situation is anything other than what occurred. You were engaged in a sky-rage with your brother. End of story." His father folded his hands behind his back. "Inspector Girris is currently asking Predune and Hearth their stories on what exactly happened. You will meet her shortly thereafter."

Palpatine gulped and glanced back to the Emperor. A piece of the hull broke off just as he gazed back at it. He inwardly winced as it skidded off and crashed onto the landing pad.

"You sure did a number on that poor ship." His father remarked. "It looks as though the repairs for it take at least a week."

"Father, it isn't as simple as that. Fex was locked outside of the corridor, so I took control of the ship in order to steer us to safety." Palpatine seamlessly lied.

His father threw him a dubious glance. "So, I see."

Palpatine and his father pushed the doors to the home open, the hinges creaked with age, as though welcoming him home. His home wasn't the grandest place, it was very unlike Coruscant and its sterile environment. His home was a little messy and a bit worn yet it was overflowing with memories.

The dent in the ceiling was caused when he and his sister had thrown a HoloFrisbee stupidly in the house. That red stain on the couch was when his brother had offered him a Raging Rancor for the first time and Palpatine had dropped it. Both incidents had ended with endless scolding. Otherwise, the house appeared very put together, with very little damage aside from the few things gone astray.

His house was very open, from the front door you could see the living room and kitchen. It was very bright; the house was composed of light blues and deep reds. There was high arching windows which overlooked the sparkling oceans and sprawling acres of vines beyond.

He hadn't been gone long yet his feelings were mixed. He was both happy and sad to be here once again.

His sister's voice drifted across the warm toned room. "I swear, if Veicre shows up, I'm going to wring her stupid neck."

Ah yes, Veicre. He'd heard that name cross Mairda's lips at least a thousand times, usually when she was complaining.

His mother waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sure she won't. She wouldn't dare show up. You wiped the racing track with her last time. She'd be too embarrassed to show her face again."

Mairda took a sip from their homemade wine. "Yeah, and also she's now wanted in fourteen systems." Her mother was about to inquire when Mairda went on. "I heard she got in some shifty business in Nal Hutta and—"

The door shut behind Palpatine and his father. His mother and sister turned to regard them. "SHEEVY!" his sister, Mairda cried. She flung her arms around her little brother, and he accepted it. "Oh, I'm so happy you could make it! You know with all the senator stuff you never know."

For the first time in a long time, a small smile quirked the corners of Palpatine's lips. As Palpatine brought his arms back to his side he said, "Mairda, of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world." He paused and glanced over at their mother who was having a hushed conversation with their father. Most likely about Palpatine's recent infraction. Palpatine's gaze shifted back to his sister, and he whispered, "How goes the wedding?"

Mairda sighed as she took Palpatine by the arm and they took a few steps away from their parents, "Honestly, mother's making too big of a deal out of it. Jim and me? We just want to do a little racing, do the vows, and be done with it. Mother's dragging it out a bit too much."

Palpatine glanced at their parents again and replied. "I think she just misses you. You've been off racing around for a while. Jim's been submitting his designs to shows. If I were you, I'd indulge her in all her madness. As soon as the wedding's over we'll all go our separate ways, and we'll barely see each other again."

"Well, that's until you have your wedding." Mairda said bluntly, a smile playing on her face. Palpatine blinked a few times at that, and a taste of disgust flooded his senses. "Why are you looking at me like that? Come on, you have not even one special someone in mind?" Mairda arched an eyebrow. No. Most definitely not.

Palpatine laughed awkwardly. "Eh…I'm think I'm a bit too young to be thinking about any of that. I have a career to focus on. I don't think I'll have much time to do…any of that." And I don't want to.

Perhaps it was odd, but Palpatine had truly never experienced any type of attraction to anyone. At all. He'd run into this same question before and whenever someone asked whether it be his siblings or acquaintances, he simply said no. He never had any desire for any of that, thankfully, for the galaxy's sake.

"UNCLE ARONDER!" a loathsome nasal like voice cried. To Palpatine it sounded like a screech from the depths of blazes. Palpatine pivoted on his heel, his eyes wide with alarm as he looked upon the most disgusting thing to ever grace his beautiful Naboo home.

It was Bratte. His loathsome cousin that somehow kept being dumped at the Palpatine Household.

Palpatine thought Bratte's appearance couldn't get any worse but somehow it did. Bratte was running down the spiral staircase with neon green dyed hair pulled atop his head into a loathsome manbun, a few tendrils escaping the mass of mangy hair. Palpatine knew many dyed their hair, he'd seen it plenty of times but this, this particular hue of green was frankly putrid and offensive.

Bratte hadn't changed much apart from the offensive dyed hair. He still had that stupid grin on his face at all times. He also skipped around like a twelve-year-old although he was older than even Predune. That annoying voice had barely changed. And he was an embarrassment to all the Naboo. Somehow after all these years he was still wearing the same stained Tuskan Raiders jersey, athletic shorts, and sandals with socks.

Bratte looked frankly out of place with Palpatine and his family surrounding him. A normal Naboo was never caught underdressing for anything, whether it be for a standard day or a wedding, under no circumstances would it ever happen. Bratte was a painful exception and somehow Palpatine's father, Aronder somehow still doted upon the annoying nuisance of a human being.

Thankfully, Aronder was the only one that supported this outlandish behavior. As Bratte skipped towards Aronder, his mother's lips pursed. "UNCLE ARONDER THERE'S NO HAIRSPRAY LEFT!" Bratte scratched his greasy hair as he caught up to his uncle. When Aronder was about to respond, Bratte interrupted. "UNCLE! I'M GOING TO DIE IF I DON'T HAVE IT RIGHT NOW!"

Promises. Promises. Palpatine thought as he took a deep breath. Palpatine could sense Mairda, and his mother were running the same thoughts through their mind.

Aronder ruffled his nephew's hair affectionately and answered with a certain calmness Palpatine could never cultivate. "Bratte, you needn't ask me of such things, simply ask your personal droid. It knows where everything is."

Bratte took a few moments to run that thought through his minuscule brain. "Oh…" he trailed off and then skipped away as though nothing had happened. "Thanks, Uncle Aronder." He called over his shoulder as he ascended to his room where he would lock himself in for another ten hours and demand unnecessary items from his family members.

"I'm always happy to help!" Palpatine's father replied, a small smile on his face. Why does he still dote upon that bumbling buffoon?

Palpatine felt someone tap his shoulder and he spun around to see Predune, a grim look etched on his face. "Officer Girris, is waiting in the courtyard."

Palpatine raised an eyebrow. "So, she is?" he faltered in asking a question. "Was she…angry?"

Predune shrugged and walked on. That isn't exactly helpful! Palpatine swept away trying to run over a thousand different situations in his head, composing a strategy. As far as he knew she was only an expert in forensics. He was surprised that she had expanded her skills since. And her son, had just died. That may affect things greatly.

The doors to the courtyard clattered open, creaking with age. Palpatine could see the Mikkian officer had her back to him. She was sitting in a pale, weathered chair gazing out to a pond installed in the courtyard sipping tea. Birds sang in the well-manicured trees and lazy bees flew from exotic flower to exotic flower.

"Officer Girris?" he said as he approached from behind. Officer Girris appeared to be lost in thought but then was called back to reality.

Palpatine sat down, smoothing the wrinkles in his robes and leaned back, appearing to be very comfortable. He was sure whatever Officer Girris had to say, it wouldn't bear much weight. It was just a stop by. If it were that serious, she would have taken him down to the police station…in most cases.

"You were sent here because I was involved in a…ship incident with my brother and his husband?" he asked nonchalantly.

Officer Girris flipped through her notes and then glanced up at him. "Yes, that is the reason I was sent here." She drew away, leaning back, and crossing her arms.

Palpatine called over a droid who poured him a cup of tea. "I see. And I assume my brother gave his side of the story?" Officer Girris nodded. "Look, I'm sure you have many duties to attend to. Why don't I make it easy? It was a small dispute, some damages, and…no one was hurt. There, case closed. Now, Officer Girris, you may be on your merry way."

"I'm afraid not, Palpatine." She pressed her fingertips on the table. "You entered a restricted lane of traffic and although no one was hurt, it could have ended very badly."

Palpatine waved it off and took a sip from his tea. "Yes, there's a first time for everything. So, what will it be? A reprimand or a warning this time?"

Officer Girris referenced her notes. "So…the last time you committed a misdemeanor, there was an unofficial reprimand and then there was an official warning for the second time." She sighed deeply. "We'll let you all off with a warning again this time…although next time, there will be consequences."

"Perfect. I'll lead you to the door." Palpatine was about to get up when Officer Girris raised a hand.

"Not so fast, Sheev." Officer Girris said. Palpatine had rarely heard anyone outside his family call him that wretched name. His fingers formed a fist as she spoke again, "I want to know what happened."

Palpatine scoffed. "I was in a dispute with Predune and Hearth. What more is there to say?"

Officer Girris' gaze flickered up, something stirred behind her eyes that made Palpatine teeter on edge. "I want to know the truth…" she took a deep breath, "the truth about my son…"

Palpatine furrowed his brows and lied seamlessly. "There's no more to tell, I'm afraid, Mrs. Girris. I told you all I could."

An edge crept into the officer's voice. "I know the chip didn't make it to the Jedi Temple."