Mara Tau and Weena Mondoon had each taken one of the crystals Kotto had gotten for their project, and tried to think of some way to actually use them for what they needed.
Late at night, after their families were in bed, and they should've been as well, both girls crept out of their beds, turned on a single light to illuminate their rooms enough to see and work by, and went to work.
In her room, Mara looked at the bright blue crystal that yes, felt warm to the touch like a kyber crystal, as Kotto could attest to because he'd handled them as a padawan before he got himself kicked out of the temple. He'd also told them that kyber crystals 'sang' to the padawans, sort of calling their master, to know which one to use in creating a light saber. Of course they'd also learned long ago to take everything Kotto said with a grain of dinner salt, he'd had a tendency to lie ever since they met him, which truth be told was probably one of the things that got him kicked out.
It just wasn't possible it could actually be a kyber crystal. It was also too big for what she'd had in mind. When they'd asked him to try and find a crystal they could use, she'd had something much smaller in mind, and more than one. Of course it would've been easier to try finding some shiny colored beads, but that seemed too simple for a gift for Senator Amidala. The 9-year-old girl sighed as she looked at the fabric she'd cut out. She held the crystal between two fingers and looked at it, and at the fabric, and thought, and thought...and thought.
She got an idea, it was probably a stupid one, but she was running out of time to come up with any other options. She measured the length of the crystal against the length of the fabric, then measured the diameter of the crystal, and cut two small holes in the fabric that were spaced lesser apart than the two ends of the crystal. Then she carefully and patiently inserted one end of the crystal in through one hole, and maintaining a hold on it, worked it inside and straightened it out so it ran straight across, and the blue shining crystal shone perfectly through both holes.
Examining her work from all different angles, the 9-year-old girl decided that actually worked out better than she thought it would. Now came the rest of it. First she took a needle and thread and stitched a small pink smile onto the fabric. Then, working as quietly as she could, she cut open a pillow and took the stuffing out of it, and packed it as tightly and compactly as she could into the fabric body she had sewn. When she was sure it was as stiff as she could get it, she sewed it shut.
Exhausted, she hid her project under her bed, turned out the light and went to sleep.
The next night, after her parents were asleep, Mara worked long into the night, very carefully and meticulously gluing Zeno's hair onto the fabric head she had made. One gold lock at a time, it was very messy work, strands kept coming loose and making the whole thing look bad, she had to pick them up and try smoothing it all out again. That took one night in itself. The next night she stitched a white tunic and pants and boots onto it that she'd made from scraps from their own clothes. It seemed to take forever, but finally, it was finished.
Filthy and exhausted, the blonde girl looked at the doll that she had made with her own two hands, her gift to the senator. Her eyes stung with tears as she felt overwhelmed by what she had actually managed to accomplish on her own. She hugged the doll against her and whispered to it, "The senator is going to love you."
In roughly the same time period, Weena sewed her own doll together for the senator. Unlike Mara, she hadn't been able to think of anything really good or useful to do with the white kyber crystal Kotto had gotten. It wouldn't work for the eyes, and it was too resilient to break down into any jewelry or ornamentation for her doll. She dug through her grandmother's caf can full of buttons and sifted through roughly 300 buttons of all sizes and colors until she found two that were matching size and color, a nice shiny dark brown. She sewed them onto the fabric for her doll's face. Finally she decided to stick the white crystal in with the padding, it could serve as the doll's heart. No one would have any idea it was even there, but it would make it even more of a one of a kind than it already was, and it would definitely be something that nobody, not even the senator of Naboo would have two of.
Weena's doll went through a very similar process of being stuffed and padded and stitched together, and it also had a smile sewn onto its face. Working very patiently and quietly so no one would wake up and discover what she was doing, she glued her own hair onto the doll's head, and gave it her own long braids. It turned out she'd miscalculated and the doll's braids ran clear to the floor, so she came up with a solution and rolled both braids up into large buns on the sides of the doll's head and pinned them into place.
Unlike Mara, Weena didn't have to make clothes for her doll, she had a white dress that her sister had worn when she was a baby. Getting the doll dressed was a lot easier than her sister, the doll didn't cry when its head was shoved into the collar or its cloth limbs were jerked to straighten out the sleeves and the skirt.
By the time her doll was finished, Weena was too tired to sleep, which put a slight damper on her own spirits, but when she looked at what she'd actually made, she felt herself beaming with pride. If she said so herself it looked just as good as the ones people paid good credits for to get in the store.
There was a bittersweet feeling in her chest as Weena hugged the doll against her for a second and said to herself, "I wish I didn't have to give you to the senator, I'd love to keep you for myself."
"I don't believe you realize your true power, Anakin," Chancellor Palpatine told the Jedi.
Anakin had his back to the other man but he rolled his eyes. "You sound like the Jedi, Chancellor."
"You allow yourself and your true potential to be shackled by the ways of the Jedi. Do you truly believe they have your best interest?"
"It's their job to defend the galaxy, they have a higher best interest," Anakin said.
"And why do you suppose there are no Jedi on the Senate?"
"Because Jedi are not interested in power," Anakin answered as he turned around to face the other man.
"Someone who was born a slave to a family of slaves is not interested in power?" Palpatine returned cynically, and grimly chuckled, "Don't lie to me, my boy, it won't do you any good."
"Well..."
"And just where did the Jedi order stand on the grounds of your marriage to Senator Amidala?"
"The Jedi order has its problems," Anakin admitted, "but I believe their contributions to the galaxy far outweigh them."
"Of course, perhaps I'm not thinking of just what true power would mean to you," the chancellor said.
Anakin had his shields up, he had since he entered the room to speak with the man. Theirs was a complicated work relationship, to put it one way. Palpatine had helped him years ago, and Anakin was obligated to help the chancellor in return when he so ordered it, but Anakin shared his wife's dislike and distrust of the man, however he knew he couldn't let Palpatine know that, just as he never let on that he knew the chancellor was only using him, for something. Aside from proverbial slave labor, he wasn't sure what, but he knew all the things Palpatine 'asked' of him far outweighed what he'd done for Anakin one time. Every encounter with the man felt like he was walking a fine line, and he must watch himself very closely, never flat out confront the man, but also never appear too interested in anything the chancellor had to say.
"What man wouldn't want the opportunity to rule the galaxy with his son? Oh."
That made his eyes widen. He hadn't anticipated that one. Keeping his own shields so high, it was difficult for him to try reaching past Palpatine's shields, especially without the chancellor knowing he was.
"That's right, you and your...beautiful wife...don't have any children, do you?" Palpatine asked in a tone that feigned remorse.
Anakin slowly closed his eyes and breathed. He knew Palpatine was prodding for something, but he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of whatever it was.
"No," he answered, "not yet."
"Not yet," the chancellor slowly repeated, "such a shame...and you've been married for how long?"
Inhale, hold it, exhale, stay calm. Forcing himself to do just that, Anakin answered as nonchalantly as he could, "The time just isn't right yet."
There was a small pause before Palpatine responded, "Still, it must be so frustrating when so many other people in the galaxy have children of their own, so many without even trying."
Anakin bit back on the hitched breath he felt in him, like someone had poked him in the chest with a vibroblade.
"And I can only imagine how hard it must be on your wife," Palpatine continued, "such repeated disappointments would surely have to leave her questioning if something is wrong with her."
Anakin gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn't lowered his shields, Palpatine couldn't have gotten that from him. And Padme could never know he even thought that.
"Tell me, Anakin," Palpatine said, "what would it be worth to you to give your wife what she most desires?"
And here they went, round and round again. Anakin felt his resistance override everything else he was thinking.
"Joining the Dark Side wouldn't solve our problem," he said.
"Oh?" Palpatine seemed to sneer, "Is that what Obi-Wan told you?"
Anakin didn't know why Palpatine kept bringing him up. He hadn't even seen the man in months.
"Just how well do you think he and your wife...know one another?" Palpatine asked.
Now Anakin wanted to laugh. "No offense, chancellor, but you're way off."
"Oh, you think so, do you?"
"I know so."
He knew his wife. He knew his teacher and best friend. And above all else he knew Palpatine wanted something from him, he just couldn't figure out what.
That was it. All of a sudden it clicked for Anakin, like the winning move in a dejarik game.
"No disrespect intended, Chancellor, but if the Dark side is as powerful as you say it is...why do you need me to help you reach a higher rank in the Senate?"
If he'd had time to actually give it much thought, he may not have been able to shield himself as well as he did. But as spontaneously as it came out, Anakin was able to maintain a straight face and an innocent look as he left Palpatine's office, but he did not miss the expression on the older man's face, that alone was worth all the power in the galaxy.
Palpatine was still fuming about his encounter with Anakin Skywalker several days later. He had specifically picked the young Jedi because he knew he could twist and bend and break him to the sith's own will, he was stubborn enough, hair-trigger tempered enough, and underneath it all, weak enough. Oh he had made a name for himself in the Jedi order, Obi-Wan Kenobi had seen to that many years ago, all of which he knew had gone to the young man's head. Inside of the former slave was a big gaping hole that the sith just knew the Jedi feared the rest of the galaxy finding out. He had to be the best, the fastest, the most powerful, it was that need that would make him a perfect and willing servant to Palpatine. That would be the case anyway, if it weren't for that infuriating woman he'd married.
All these thoughts swirled around in Palpatine's head as he made his way through the corridors of the senate building. Every time he thought he could get that Jedi right where he wanted him, Anakin always had a response that came more from Padme Amidala than his own thought process. That woman was a damned influence on him, she was the only thing in the galaxy that meant more to Anakin than unlimited power. Many was the time Palpatine wished he could get his hands on her neck and...
"What's that?" a distant voice drew him out of his own thoughts.
"A gift for Senator Amidala," another voice answered.
Palpatine pressed himself back against the corner and watched two guards walking down the corridor, one of them was carrying two large rectangular boxes tied shut.
"I thought the peasants usually just threw vegetables at senators," the other guard commented.
The second guard chuckled, "She must be doing something right, they were quite adamant that she receive the gift before she returns to Coruscant."
The conversation only sparked the mildest of all curiosities in the chancellor, but what got his attention was the sudden sensation he felt as they passed by. He was familiar with the security staff enough to know that none of them were strong in the Force, and what he felt now was not exactly the presence of someone who was, but it felt very similar to it. Whatever it was, he realized, had to be inside the box. Moving quietly, he followed behind the guards and saw them put the boxes on a table in an unoccupied room. After they had gone, he went over to the do and used the Force to override the coded lock. The door slid open and he entered the darkened room, and felt the presence grow stronger as he neared the table.
Two boxes of identical size, both tied shut. What in the seven sith hells could possibly be in there? He decided to find out.
The minor uses of the Force were vastly underappreciated, but it stood to reason if one could use it to levitate an entire ship, one could also use it to undo a knot of twine and pop open a box lid.
"Huh?" he found himself asking himself when he saw the contents of the top box.
It was a cloth doll, roughly two feet tall, with brown button eyes, brown braids rolled into buns, a white dress and white boots. The sith stood there for a moment feeling like this had to be some bizarre joke at his expense. How the hell could something like this...
But no amount of skepticism could negate the strong presence emanating from the toy. It didn't make any sense. Palpatine lifted it out of the box and turned it over, futilely hoping he could find some explanation to it, but he couldn't.
Then he heard the sound of someone taking a breath and sighing, and he dropped the doll on the floor when he realized the sound had come from it.
"This has to be some kind of trick," he muttered to himself as he picked it up again, "dolls aren't alive."
Through the walls he heard the clatter of footsteps and muffled voices. Of all the predicaments he'd been in during his life he couldn't begin to explain this one if anyone found him, simply because it was too ridiculous. He knocked the empty box under the table and concealed the doll in his robes and left through a back door in the room. Whatever was going on, he intended to find the answer.