Waking to familiar gray metal and the faint lighting of a ship during the rest cycle the boy let out a groan of despair. All over his body ached and felt weak, as if he had been heavily beaten or drugged. Deep inside he felt as if he had been drained, like a bantha at a butcher's shop. As he tried to sit up his vision exploded into black and white spots, his ears filling with a loud static.
Falling back to the bed he curled into a tight ball of misery, clutching the blanket to him for comfort. Biting his tongue so he wouldn't cry out he remained still, waiting for the pain to slowly die down.
Unclenching his hand from the soft blanket he let out a quiet sigh when the static died down to a small buzz in the back of his head.
Wait… soft?
Eyes popping open he looked at the rich red fabric between his hands and frowned. Pressing into the comfortable mattress beneath him he marveled at how it sprang back slowly. Uncurling slowly he took in the fluffy pillows and the very large luxury bed he was laying on and frowned.
He… had no idea how he'd gotten there.
The last real memory he had was being held by his mother. A woman who had been so broken by the Hutts that she clung to him as a way to protect herself. Few wanted a slave woman who was saddled with a young child and with an 'exotic appearance' he was far too valuable to be tossed aside.
He remembered one of the slavers coming into the hold to threaten them. The alarms blaring and lights flashing overhead. Screams of fear and the slaver yelling at them to shut up. The world turning on it's head, an indescribable sound of thunder that shook his body to the core, metal shrieking then… nothing.
"Aii sii hyu aur ahwayk. Haou aur hyu faheilang?" A deep refined voice spoke from the darkness of the room he'd thought empty and the boy froze in fear. The language wasn't recognizable but he understood the tone as questioning.
The Boy, so called because he had no name he could actually remember, knew a lot of languages. Huttese, Ryl, Basic, Rodese, and Bocce just to name a few. A fact he kept hidden from everyone including his mother. But the lilting syllables spoken by the deep voice was like nothing he had heard before.
A figure materialized from the darkness before him and the Boy felt his lungs seize from fear.
The figure was tall, taller than most humans, with piercing gold eyes that burned brightly in the darkness.
Which only made it all the more terrifying.
"Ahh, hyu cyanhot sii thoruw thyss dhrknyss." The figure slowly raised a hand and the lighting in the room brightened enough that the Boy could see more details. "Aii huop thyss hiz beytahr?"
With more light in the room the Boy realized that the looming figure had dark red skin, like a zabrak, but without any markings or horns. Instead there were odd ridges on their nose and over their cheeks.
From the faint shimmer and silken way the clothes draped over the stranger's form the Boy could tell they were made of a very expensive material.
They figure moved and he spied a flash of metal at their hip, it made him even more wary.
All together it painted a picture of someone who had a lot of money and influence. The only people he knew of like that were Masters. Which meant he had to have been sold and just didn't remember it, or something had happened and he had been taken with force. Either way, waking up on the bed of a stranger was a terrible situation to find himself it.
"Aur hyu ahlraijt?" The stranger reached down to touch his arm, fingers warm against his chilled skin.
Fear welled up inside him and quickly turned to anger. Hatred for the slavers and the masters burning through his veins. "No!" He snarled, slapping the hand away from him. The Boy didn't want a master, he wanted to be free!
With all of his might he shoved the stranger away from him, earning a startled grunt.
Deciding he'd rather take the chance to run he yanked the blanket off of his body and scrambled off of the bed. His feet touched the floor and he threw himself away from the bed, only for the heaviness in his limbs to drag him down to the floor. The black and white spots returned, swamping his vision as he gasped in pain. Cold shivers wracked his weakened body as he tried to frantically crawl away.
The dark figure loomed above him, looking angry, and reached down towards his head.
Expecting to be punished the Boy closed his eyes tightly and curled into himself, knowing that to fight was futile.
Something pressed gently against his temple and he let out a hiss of surprise as warmth flooded into his body, easing the ache in his limbs and fighting off the chill. Something slithered into his mind, dark and imposing, and the pressure made him whimper in discomfort.
'Shhh, you're going to be alright. Can you understand me now young one?'The rich voice echoed slightly inside his head and the Boy stiffened in surprise.
'Who-?'He looked up into burning golden eyes and gaped.'Wha-how!?'His thoughts blurred together in a jumble of curiosity and confusion as the figure chuckled.
'Be still, young one, I will not harm you.'The figure smiled and he could feel a whisper of amusement in his mind.'You have my word.'
The Boy scowled.'Masters always lie.'Realizing that the stranger could hear his thoughts he braced himself for the anger that was sure to follow… but none came.
Instead there was a feeling of sympathy and understanding.'I am not your master, nor am I anyone's master.'He said calmly, his inner voice firm with conviction. There were other emotions brimming just under the surface of his mine, carefully contained, but they were too faint for the Boy to make hide or hair of.'Have you a name, young one?'
'…just Boy. I had one a long time ago but… I don't remember.'
'I see.'Pulling his hand away the stranger knelt next to him, holding out an open hand. "Would you allow me to help you off of the floor? You are still exhausted from your ordeal. Shielding yourself from the crash was clever, but you used a lot of power to do so. It will take time for you to recover."
The Boy startled at the sound of their voice. It had the same refined and rich tones to it but now it was in a language he understood.
"You speak Basic?"
The stranger chuckled. "No, young one, you now speak Imperial Common. I did you the courtesy of sharing my knowledge of the language so that we might speak properly."
He stared at the stranger in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned. "Did you download it into my head like a droid1?" He squeaked, angry that someone could mess around with the only safe place the Boy had- his mind.
"The practice is not far off, I imagine. Do not worry, I did nothing but give you knowledge of Imperial Common. Your memories, your feelings, everything is exactly as it was before. You just know more now." The figure shook their head and lifted their hand slightly, bringing attention to it. "Now, will you allow me to help you off the floor? It cannot be comfortable."
The Boy looked at the hand then back up to the stranger's eyes. He couldn't feel any of his 'bad' feelings but he didn't really trust the stranger either. But… the floor was cold and very hard. After a moment of hesitation he reached for the hand.
The stranger helped him stand, a second hand coming to rest against his back and steady him. Once he was upright his stomach recoiled and a wave of nausea hit him all at once.
"Urk!" Why did it feel like he'd swallowed an eel and that all his bones had turned to jelly?
"As I thought. You gave yourself a nasty case of Force Exhaustion." Carefully the stranger maneuvered him back to the bed, helping him sit down before backing away.
"Force exhaustion? Is that when they force you to work way too hard and you get sick?"
The stranger shook their head. "No, the Force is a power that few have the ability to use, and even fewer can master. Once you are feeling better I will explain more about it. For now, you should lay down and rest. You are too sick to be up and about."
It rankled him to obey the stranger but as he warily lay back down on the bed he could feel sleep dragging at the back of his eyelids. The last thing he saw was the smiling face of the stranger as he tucked the blanket around the Boy and wished him a good rest.
The Emperor watched as the child quickly fell into a deep slumber, helped along by a subtle Force suggestion. The Boy, as he called himself, was a bit of an enigma. While he was still quite young, the medics surmised he was somewhere around five years of age, his mind was far too mature. If he had to guess he'd say the child's true age was far closer to twelve. That meant one of two things. He was older than he appeared or he was exceptionally intelligent for his age.
Either way, it boded well the the future.
Across the room a shadow, darker than those around it, made its way to him and knelt at his side. Awaiting orders.
"I want every scrap of information you can wrench from the minds of the survivors. But leave them intact, I have a feeling that they will be useful to me." The shadow bowed their head before disappearing, off to do the bidding of her master.
Staring down at the child the Emperor brushed some of the Boy's white hair away from his face. The child was a gift from the Force, and he had not become Emperor by letting potential opportunities pass him by. The Boy was powerful. With time and training he would be make a formidable Sith. And perhaps… an Heir.
Imperial Common;
Aii sii hyu aur ahwayk. Haou aur hyu faheilang?- I see you are awake. How are you feeling?
Ahh, hyu cyanhot sii thoruw thyss dhrknyss.- Ah, you cannot see through the darkness.
Aii huop thyss hiz beytahr?- I hope this is better?
Aur hyu ahlraijt- Are you alright?