Chapter 109 - My SI Stash #9 - A Galactic Balancing Act by Vergil1989 Crossover King (Star Wars)

-SI as the Sheev Palpatine, the key player that shaped the original trilogy. Butterfly Effect start!

ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

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Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/a-galactic-balancing-act-star-wars-palpatine-si-story.11031/ (Vergil1989 Crossover King)

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Chapter 1.1-1.3

An Unexpected Development

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Let's get this out of the way now.

Waking up in another body is weirder than people realize. Waking up in another body, with an entire slew of memories that could've come out of Hitler's darkest nightmares, is much, much worse. Thankfully the screams and cries for mercy as a figure wielding a crimson blade of energy cuts them down end almost as quickly as I sit up at a metallic desk with a start. So imagine my surprise when I see that I'm not in my house in Chicago, Illinois, a city with a reputation all its own which, in some circles is understandably not all that savory, a reputation well earned no less, to...well, quite the view outside my bedroom window.

"Oh...crap." I whisper, too stunned to dare anything above a whisper as a transport flies by my impressively huge floor to ceiling wall window, promptly followed by several other vehicles of various sizes, models, and styles, their drivers just as varied, and of far more interest to me, alien. The scarier part to me is that I could name most of them. Twi'lek, zabrak, togruta, bith, bothan, wookie, munn, the list went on and on as more vehicles buzzed by, some so close I could see the whites of their eyes, so to speak, and not in some cases, literal since the more bug like, concave eyes of some, the strange, uniform eye stalks of others, made that saying rather redundant.

I know where I am as a name comes to the surface, the knowledge as easy to access as is the identity of the body I'm now in when I scramble to my suite's private bathroom, which is just as upscale as the rest of the apartment, not that I was thinking about that at that moment. The warm, almost grandfatherly visage that stares back at me, eyes slightly sunken into my otherwise handsome face, has my now deep brown eyes wide with alarm before I remember a few calming, meditative techniques which spring up with the same ease as everything else has so far, and I use the metallic sink's edge to steady myself as I stare at my reflection. I wouldn't look away, because if I did, I'd never be able to face myself again, and that would not be good for me. So I breathe slowly through my mouth, and with the same slowness, force the breath out through my nose. Like the waves of an ocean against some stony shore, I breathe out the anxiety, the fear, terror if I'm being honest, as well as the shock at who and what I am in this new reality that's far, far away from the world I used to know.

"Okay...okay" I mutter in a voice that, even coming out of my own mouth, still has the effect it did when I was on the other side of the screen, "I'm Sheev Palpatine."

Just saying the name, acknowledging the reality of it, led to me remembering a few key elements, mainly that I'm not the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, yet. That I've at least met the future Darth Maul, and that I absolutely hate Plageius, or at least Sheev does, did? Meh, the Munn is my problem now, as is the cl.u.s.terf.u.c.k that's already been set into motion by the Sith, of which I'm now a part of. Shit....this could go horribly wrong real quick if Sheev's master figures out the truth, that I'm no longer his apprentice, not that Palpatine would let him live long anyway. Still, despite the mess I'm in, I can't help but smile as I glance down at my right hand and conjure up a little lightning between my fingers. I could get used to this.

No! Bad Palpy, no UNLIMITED POWAH for you!

Dark side, right, forgot about that part for a second. Then again, with how effective Palpatine in canon was in disguising his true nature, his efforts, set into motion by the Sith that'd come before, I was fairly sure that I could get a handle on this so long as I was careful. It helped I could recall a great deal of the events to come from too many hours spent on the Star Wars wiki, as well as looking through various EU articles and the various books of course, let alone the better shows and movies. That meant, even if I ripped canon apart, and I fully intended to do so, I had a pretty solid grasp of what to expect here. It also helped that, even as a Senator of Naboo, with secret ties to the Sith's grand plan and the network of allies, I had unimaginable resources and the means to effect truly great change against the future that was coming unless properly avoided. Because while some of the ideals for the Galactic Empire were actually good in preparing the galaxy for threats like the Yuuzhan Vong, the execution of those ideals were...to be frank, nearly as corrupt and morally bankrupt as Palpatine himself.

I didn't want to be the mad dictator of a galaxy spanning Empire that grew fat and decadent on the backs of countless innocent beings, fostering an era of fear, paranoia, and worse. That said, the Jedi were a problem as they were, and how they conducted their affairs needed to change lest they inevitably become that which they purport to stand against. As it were, they were already resented and hated by more than a few people with how they went around taking children, breaking apart families, and using their powers and lightsabers to solve almost every problem they came up against. So it was with a push away from the sink that I adjust my warm, long, stately black robes, a long red sash hanging from my shoulders, and put on my best, grandfatherly smile before going to my personal terminal to start making those promised changes.

My first order of business? Well...I first needed an accounting of my current schedule, an easy enough thing to figure out, but the sheer scope of what lay ahead of me now had me wondering if I was going to regret this into the first hour, let alone the first day. The sheer, monumental scale of the events to come would be impossibly intricate, a balancing act that only a true grandmaster could ever hope to carry out to their end.

In my past life, I was a college dropout with very little confidence in myself. Thankfully, Palpatine had more than enough self confidence and willpower, as well as arrogance, for any ten people, and while my old life felt like a dream already, a bad one in many respects, I knew this much as I effortlessly navigated my way through Palpy's personal terminal. I wasn't weak anymore, I wasn't helpless, far from it in fact, but of far more importance, I understood the value of power, having never had any before now. I also understood mercy, compassion, empathy, genuine and absolute, where the future Emperor if things went according to canon, had only hatred and worse for any and all he lay his eyes on.

I would strive to be better. I needed to be better.

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I can't help but feel glad that I don't have to meet with Hego Damask for at least a few days, because I've realized that I need time to calm my racing thoughts. Meditating, something I've never done, comes far too easily now, as all of Palpatine's skills have so far, his vast intellect, and his near endless rage and power. For all intents and purposes to an outside observer, I've fallen asleep at my desk, eyes closed, breath slow and even, body utterly relaxed, but the reality is very different. Because in truth, I'm intimately aware of everything around me. Of the billions of lifeforms on Coruscant, both high in orbit, and far, far below the cloud layer, where the labyrinthine Undercity spans across the entirety of the planet's surface. Just thinking about the Undercity has my expanding senses and mind zeroing in on the area immediately, if far, beneath my home in the Upper City, at the literal and metaphorical top of the world, where I can sense the suffering and impotent rage of hundreds thousand of individuals.

The cold, dark emotions associated with the Dark Side are a familiar comfort, even as it threatens to consume me like the cancer it is, while at the same time feeling utterly foreign and terrifying in a way I thought I'd never feel again. Certainly not since my dad from my past life, a cowardly yet verbally abusive, emotionally manipulative excuse of a man, tried to break into my mom's house in a blind rage brought on by the fact what control he'd had over his three children, with me as the oldest and thus the one to call the police while my mom kept him out as best she could, had been lost, utterly and completely.

I immediately pull back before I can dwell on my own traumatic childhood too much during such a dangerous moment for my future sanity, my old life in some ways mirroring Palpatine's, but I grit my teeth, remembering who I am now, and calm my fear of the Dark Side, acknowledging its existence, its wrongness, but I don't dismiss it as the Jedi do. It whispers, promises so much to me, but I tune it out for now, my mind drifting through the city's Undercity, familiarizing myself with the countless points of light that appear in my mind's eye. Thoughts, feelings, not all of them negative despite the vast majority being lost in the darkened corridors with no way out, either imagined or otherwise, all of it fills me and passes through me.

It's the most beautiful sight, the most euphoric, that I can ever recall before I woke up in this place. Is it any wonder then that both Jedi and Sith alike, those who hadn't already given completely to their passions, found it so easy to get lost to the power of the Force? Luckily for me, I don't have that problem as I remember myself, and start to pull my mind back into my physical shell. No easy feat I'll admit, since a part of me wants to remain out there, seeing just how far my mind can reach, how many lifeforms I can touch, but with a force of will I force myself to look away. When I return to myself, I feel much better about things as a whole.

Now that I know I can do this, that I believe it possible at all, I can expand upon my skills from there, delving ever deeper into the Force, the whole of it rather than the parts that the Sith foolishly try to make their bitch, so to speak. Crude as the thought might be, it's not inaccurate since most Sith, certainly Palpatine...me, and his master Plagueis, consider the Force nothing more than a tool to be used with no thought to the consequence. First though, I see I have a priority alert from someone. I frown thoughtfully, open up the message, and read its contents. When I'm done, I can't help but sigh as I realize exactly where in the timeline I am when the news that Queen Amidala, rather her decoy, wishes to meet with me. I type up a quick reply, and prepare for the inevitability of what's to come.

It looked like I'd have to make a trip to Naboo with my sovereign....not that she needed to know that, nor her two Jedi protectors, soon to be one if Maul was able to kill Qui-Gon Jinn, which left me with my first puzzle. Do I destroy canon sooner rather than later, stop Maul before he can deal the Jedi Knight, Obi-wan's master, a fatal blow? Or do I let it happen, and clean up the mess after the fact? The trip to Naboo in my own vessel would give me time to consider my options in either event, but I had every intention of being there for at least the aftermath if nothing else since Maul, I had decided already, needed to stay dead regardless of the outcome. Plagieus would order his death if he hadn't already anyway, so it was a good excuse to see to it myself. Something he'd likely praise me on, only furthering the lie in a way.

The only problem is that I, myself, have never killed another sapient being before.

And then another thought springs up, and I realize I have a far more immediate problem, mainly Hego Damask himself. I didn't have the luxury to wait and pop my murder cherry, as it were, on Darth Maul, bestial assassin that he is. I'd have to deal with Hego now, while he was flush with my victory in being named the future Chancellor to the rotted carcass that's the current Republic. Slogged in corruption, some of which having been encouraged by the Sith aside, trying to clean up the mess would take a large amount of money, resources, and manpower, all of which I could acquire with Hego's vast fortunes. Of far more personal importance to me however, Hego Damask was the epitome of a mad scientist, a diabolical researcher that had no regard for life outside of how he could manipulate it to extend his own existence. Every minute I left him be, gave him more of a chance to regenerate himself, something even Palpatine had never achieved at his height.

That thought led to another, the simple fact that Hego was becoming stronger as I sat here, making my plans to steer the galaxy down a far better path, one that hopefully wouldn't require the Death Star, let alone the terror and systems of control instigated by the Galactic Empire, wouldn't leave me. If left alone, Hego would be next to impossible to kill since he was close to achieving his ultimate goal of cheating death itself through the use of his unparalleled knowledge of biomancy, at least that's what I'm calling it until I can recall the actual name. Thankfully, I already knew how I was going to deal with Hego as I glance towards the mini bar on the far side of Palp-...my apartment. Turning to my computer terminal once more, I make it a point to ensure I've ordered a number of bottles of my master's favorite drink to celebrate my impending victory.

Before the night was over, Hego Damask would die.

That was the hope anyway...

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End Notes: So yep, the SI is Sheev Palpatine, and in case anyone's curious, my real life dad did indeed tried to break into my mom's house several years ago. It wasn't until I started giving this idea some serious thought that I realized I had a little more in common with Palpatine than I felt comfortable with since he too had a rather unhealthy relationship with his own father, but unlike him, I didn't nor would I ever actually commit patricide. That said, I can certainly sympathize with the desire, but all that aside, I hope you all enjoy the show and that this gets at least some positive feedback and active discussion. And make no mistake, I WANT constructive discussion and criticism, but I will not tolerate disparaging and disruptive arguments of the like that made Ashali quit writing their own story for months on end. Other than that, have at thee I say! :D Lol but seriously, enjoy the story, and as ever, may the Force be with you all.​

Chapter 1.2

The Rule of Two

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Even without my direct access to the Wookiepedia from my old life, I know the Rule of Two, and while it was made by the egotistical mind of Darth Bane, arguably one of the most innovative Sith to ever exist, it made more sense than I'd like to consider given my current situation. To quote Grandmaster Yoda, "always two, there are. No more, no less.", because anything more would not only draw the unwanted gaze of the Jedi as feuding Sith turned on each other, an almost certain inevitability due to their natural paranoia and distrust of each other, but also because the Dark Side had a tendency to make itself known if too much of it gathered in one place for too long. True, the ancient Sith aligned nexus beneath the Jedi Temple had had an instrumental role in blinding the Jedi, of weakening their ranks for decades, but secrecy had ensured the Sith survived their last near complete extinction, largely done by their own hand, and it would serve me for now as well.

My concern is in working up the nerve to kill my master, Hego Damask, but it's something I find startlingly easy to muster up as I meditate on the path ahead of me. Again I find it far too easy to sink into a trance, to meld myself with the all connecting, all powerful Force, and while it takes me aback to feel the Dark Side's cancerous touch on my psyche and soul alike, it's not the shock it'd been the first time as I let it pass through me without allowing it to find a weakness to exploit. I know I'll dip into it, even dive headfirst into its intoxicating power, but I'm resolved to never become the Emperor, to never allow Palpatine to destroy the galaxy at every turn, and I counter the darkness with my love for life, my capacity for compassion, empathy, even for the Dark Side, since I refuse to deny it or the emotions often associated with it, having felt them all at some point or another, and open myself to everything around me in an effort to see what my master cannot. When I come back to myself, I'm assured that I'm on the right course, having seen the ever changing future so clearly I could've touched it.

"Game on then." I mutter to myself, my previous life's memories of being a gamer surfacing for a moment, and stand from my desk to prepare for this fated moment.

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The Munn is every bit the monster in person, despite his seemingly frail appearance thanks to the recent addition of the breathing apparatus affixed to his face due to a previous injury, as I remember him being in the book I now know to be reality. For a thankfully very brief moment, the unnatural hiss of the breathing machine makes me think that Darth Vader was approaching my apartment, but the illusion is just as quickly dispelled as I see the man as he makes his way towards me. Yet for all of Palpa-...my fear and hatred of the man, of his power over life itself, I also know how to destroy him as I smile openly, a genuflect soon to follow as it always had before I'd taken over in Palpatine's stead. "Good evening Master." With a dismissive gesture, I stand per Hego's silent order, the quiet glee palpable in the older man's stance even without my Force attuned senses.

"You look well, my apprentice." Hego replies with a minute nod of his hairless, pale skinned head, his unusually flat nose visibly twitching as he inhales vital oxygen through the sophisticated machinery that conceals most of his mouth.

"I feel well." I reply as I chuckle openly, and as much as the thought still unnerves me, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to my time as the Chancellor. In that much at least, I can admit to as I pour my master a drink before serving myself. Hego doesn't think anything of my cheer, assuming, rightly to some degree, that I'm just as happy over recent developments as I am, as he picks up the finely wrought crystal glass, before all but inhaling its contents, while I take a far more measured sip. I needed to drink to keep up appearances, more so than canon Palpatine likely did, but I still needed my senses to be clear. "Your long years of planning have finally born fruit my old friend."

"Indeed." Hego agrees, having picked up the next glass once I'd poured for him. "Our partnership has come a long way Sheev. You've come a long way."

I'm glad that I'm in the middle of another sip because I might've snorted otherwise. As it is I 'cough', put a hand to my chest, and mutter an apology which Hego doesn't even acknowledge. And so it goes as more of the drinks are poured, with me barely getting through a single bottle, while Hego has gone through several. It's only when I'm absolutely certain that Hego is dead, falling down drunk, do I dare to stand, my smile having long since become strained, not that Hego ever noticed nor suspected. Because I've seen this kind of drunken stupor before one too many times in my past life. I've seen what sometimes comes of it if my own dad was disturbed after drinking himself into such a near comatose state. The worst part of my own father's failings is that he only ever got so drunk when he'd done something he felt incredibly guilty over, such as cheating on his wife, my mother, with another woman. And when he felt guilty and he'd been able to peel himself off whatever surface he'd fallen on in said state, he'd become a torment I wouldn't wish on almost anyone around us.

Couple that with the fact Hego is a far more greater threat, and a torment to Palpatine on a scale and magnitude far more potent than anything my dad could ever be even when he tried to kill me, my mother, and my two brothers the day he tried to break into the house, and it's shockingly easy for me to see Hego's Munn visage replaced by my own father's. Everything I ever hated about him, atop of Palpatine's hatred for Hego, I allow to push me towards what I need to do now to ensure not only my own survival, but those lives that would come later. Thus, I wait even as I stand, swirl the long black robes that I had hung on the back of my chair over my form, slide my arms into the long, billowing sleeves, and grasp hold of the twin lightsaber hilts that are secured to the inside of said sleeves in one fluid motion. Hego doesn't stir an inch, his eyes closed, breath even, body relaxed.

If I didn't know any better, I'd have said he was meditating, but I don't let that stop me.

Killing a man in his sleep is cowardice at its worst, I'd have preferred to look anyone else in the eye so they knew it was me out of respect rather than sadistic glee in Palpatine's case. In Hego's case, I can't risk such sentimentality, and I don't allow my thoughts to wander further as I point my weapons' towards the Munn's forehead, the other leveled for the right of his chest. The snap hiss that followers is promptly followed by a masterful slash through all three of Hego's hearts, while the other allows a crimson blade to erupt through the Darth's skull, and out the other side. I take a shuddering breath even as I go the extra step to sever Hego's head from his neck for good measure, feeling...relief, satisfaction even as his corpse falls to the side from his chair without a clue as to what's just happened to him.

It's only when I turn to Hego's old droid, a culprit as much as anyone in the Munn's vile experiments, that I give myself a moment to calm down now that this is done. "Are you going to be a problem?" I ask, knowing even as I ask the question, that I'll likely have to have Hego's droid destroyed. Chances were better that the droid, a longtime lab assistant to Hego, would attempt to gain some measure of programmed revenge against me by waiting until I was asleep, only to sedate me, drag me off to the lab, before proceeding to take its time in cutting me apart. I might be new to this whole SI shtick, but I've played far too many video games, watched too many movies, and read too many books, to know that leaving such a cold blooded mechanical at my back to plot my drawn out demise, is downright stupid. But I have more immediate concerns, mainly, I have to deal with the shredded remains of my now dead master. Getting the bloodstains out of the carpet without anyone being the wiser would be the more difficult, but as in everything, Palpatine has contingencies in place for this too.

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I have the droid taken away for now, fitted with a restraining bolt so it can't get any ideas, and ensure that it can't erase its own data archives before I can have everything downloaded onto a private terminal for future perusal. As vile and disgusting Hego Damask's experiments are, the knowledge he's managed to gather would be incredibly valuable to me, and if there's one other thing I share with my host body, is that we share a thirst for knowledge. The difference, as in all things with my host, is that I have mere curiosity guiding me in my consumption in any subject I strike a fancy for, whereas Palpatine is an unrepentant glutton in every conceivable fashion, his hunger for material wealth matched only by his sadistic tendencies.

Breathing out the last of my previous rage, hatred, and pain from killing Hego Damask, I gingerly grasp the controls of the vessel, which in turn is hooked up to a hyperspace ring. As for Hego's corpse, his personal vessel, its disposal I was watching even as I left Coruscant's orbit, had been set on an ill fated course towards the nearby sun, where it'd inexplicably explode due to a mechanical malfunction before whatever was left wound up being consumed by the sun before anyone could mount a salvage operation. The ease which all this had been arranged made me feel dizzy, and not in a good way. I'd just gotten away with murder, the only people with any knowledge of the deed already planning to scatter to the far reaches of the galaxy, their accounts noticeably fatter, but not so much they'd draw undue attention. Not only that, but gaining control of Hego's vast fortunes, I realized once I'd started to do just that before setting off, had been even easier.

Once I was sure the job was done to my satisfaction as Hego's ship exploded just on the edge of my vision, mindful of the array of sensors meant to monitor traffic to and from the capital planet, only then do I make the jump to light speed.

I won't make it to Naboo before the Jedi or Padme make it to the planet, but it'd take time for them to find the Gungans, let alone to organize their efforts to take back the capital from Nute Gunray. I wouldn't have long to get in touch with Maul, to stop him from killing Qui-Gon Jinn, having decided he'd be the better choice for Anakin over Obi-Wan, as much as I otherwise loved the guy, but I had to hope my new understanding of the Force, of the future that had yet to be unveiled, would provide me the means to do all that I'd set out to achieve. To that end, I ate, drank, slept, and meditated when I wasn't busy going over what I knew of Palpatine and his vast achievements already. A trail of blackmail, corruption, murder, and worse were already at my back, or had been perpetrated by Hego, but such was the price I suppose of dealing with the likes of such a twisted individual as the one I now inhabited.

Still, I let the hum of the ship guide my mind's efforts, giving me the means to achieve peaceful serenity despite the recent murder I've committed. The pain and anger I had allowed to take hold is still there, but it's much easier to deal with, to make my own as I subsume it with the peace I'd felt at having excised my personal demons in both lives in one move, nurturing the light that's only recently been allowed to grow in Palpatine's black heart, with the realization I've already started on the path to making the galaxy a better, gentler place for all of its inhabitants, not just those that were deemed 'valuable' to the Empire. My vow to be better, marred somewhat by my recent misdeeds aside, still stands. I'm aware of course how dangerous obsession, passionate or otherwise, can be, and do my best to keep my head on the entire affair. It's not a simple task, but the trip to Naboo gives me the time I need to do it.

I do however allow myself some dark glee when I make contact with the Trade Federation ship's crew, my hood pulled low, the menacing growl in my voice doing all the work as I demand safe passage through the blockade, such as it is with only one Lucrehulk starship still in orbit above the beautiful, verdant, resource rich world that stretches out before me. I don't contact Darth Maul, not yet, as I set down within Theed's royal palace, mindful of the rising sun. The anticipation, the tension I can sense in the air, it echoes what I know is already on the horizon, but I haven't told the Neimoidians about the impending attack. It wouldn't change anything in this late hour anyway, outside of a few, negligible details. What I intended would effect so much more.

That said, seeing the royal palace of Theed in person is...awe inspiring. CGI and practical applications made Theed visibly striking in a beautiful, sweeping sense, like looking upon the Sistine Chapel with their domed rooftops and cream colored stonework, disguising the metallic interiors of their hangar, their power generation, and the other vital systems. To make it better, I can see how the Naboo people have done their best to keep the natural beauty of their world protected, working to keep their influence to a minimum where possible, thus offering a truly breathtaking view to me even though I give it only a cursory glance for the time being. I have a far more pressing matter to contend with as I feel a broiling cloud of rage mixed with curiosity coming my way.

I don't contact Maul, because I don't have to as I sense his approach long before he makes his appearance just outside the royal palace's hangar. The power generator chamber where he'll have his fated duel with Obi-wan and Qui-Gon is just a short walk away from where we are, but I have a better idea as I stop just before one of the great falls that emanate from the palace grounds, on a cream colored, stony balcony, my arms at their sides in a relaxed, easy posture. I don't respond to Maul as the bestial zabrak kneels with the expected greeting of, "My master, what brings you to Naboo so unexpectedly?"

"Your forseen failure." I growl, mid spin towards him in a blur, my lightsabers snapping to life yet again. To his credit, Maul manages to roll back and away, the tip of a horn being cut away while one arm is singed, but he can barely grasp the impossibility that I've just turned on him like this before I casually wave a hand. He goes flying back hard, slamming into a stone pillar with bone jarring force before I just as quickly pull him towards me with the same ease. His startled cry is cut short as I sever his legs from the rest of his body as he passes by, my sabers crossing at the perfect moment. I don't let his upper half fall off the balcony however even as I effortlessly fling his legs over the balcony, I instead impale him through the chest. "You will not harm anyone again." I hiss into his ear as the life leaves his body. I can feel the moment when he returns to the Force, but by then I've let what's left of him to tumble over the edge, into the water far below us.

And like that, I leave, having concluded my business, but I don't intend to go back to Coruscant just yet.

I have another destination in mind first.

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End Notes: Holy shit guys, all that feedback's pretty awesome and this hasn't been up for long at all. Having said that, I know all too well how beloved Star Wars is, to myself included, so I sincerely hope I don't screw this up as badly as JJ Abrams and the rest of Disney has. (The 'new trilogy' is not my Star Wars...) That aside, things will slow down now that the immediate crisis has been averted, with canon otherwise progressing unimpeded for the most part, outside of the obvious changes of course. :D At any rate, I hope this meets with the same joy and acceptance as the previous chapter's been so far. And MadGreenSon, feel free to hit me with more corrections, edits, etc at any point my friend. I'll try to get to them when I'm not half asleep at my desk. :p In any event guys and gals, may the Force be with you all, and I hope this is a good start to the madness soon to follow. Adios!

P.S. I'm all for receiving Omakes and the like, just throwing that out there. :D

Chapter 1.3

Walking On Sandy Skies

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It turns out refueling a hyperspace ring is harder than you'd think. Thankfully it's not so difficult that it can't be regulated to droids and a transport crew that passes my sleek vessel once I make contact with the nearest spaceport as I navigate my way down to a landing pad in short order. I have far too much to do once I get back to Coruscant, damage control with Hego's recent death among them, explaining why I left my office at all, but I haven't been sworn into my new office, so my time, while limited, is still mine for the immediate future. It takes time for any office to change hands after all, few most of all as the Chancellor of the Republic, but not so much I could afford to dawdle.

Keeping my hood pulled low as I make my way through Mos Espa, the buildings and houses on every side sandblasted, dull, gray, an air of oppressiveness thick enough to dull a vibroblade, the people too hunched into themselves, I do my best to quietly make my way to my destination. I see now that I'm here for myself why Anakin hated Tattoonie, why he hated sand as a whole, because by the time I find my way to a certain junk dealer's shop, the almost constant breeze passing through the area has kicked up sand into places I'd rather not think about. Thankfully my long black, encompassing robes diverts most of it to either side without incident, but what it doesn't block manages to find passage to my neck, face, and upper chest, making them irritated to varying degrees. I cannot get off this dustball fast enough, but my business will take at least two hours, perhaps more if I run into any trouble.

Watto, the Toydarian I've come to see, perks up when the sensor above his open door chimes pleasantly, alerting him to my presence. I don't meet his gaze as the alien, a cloud of avarice and greed as thick as the literal noxious stench and black flies I can sense already, follows him as he flies towards me. "Greetings stranger. To what do I owe the pleasure, eh? Hehehehehe." He cackles, as if privy to a joke only he knows.

He stops laughing when I raise a hand, and he ends up pinned to the ceiling, his wings bent at unnatural angles against his back. "The control chip belonging to Shmi Skywalker, where is the deactivation transponder?" I ask coolly without looking up to regard the alien's terrified visage. While it's dangerous to do, I've always had a bit of a hate boner for Watto since it's strongly implied the junk dealer was physically and emotionally abusive to some extent to his charges. Seeing him up close, sensing his presence in the Force, I can safely say that the implications were just another harsh reality of this place I'm now a part of.

"Wh-what are you?! The Hutts-" I don't move my hand, I simply clamp his throat shut, silencing him even as I slowly choke the life out of him.

"Where...and how do I free Shmi Skywalker? You have about two minutes of air Watto, I suggest you don't keep me waiting." I don't intend to let him live past today, but he doesn't know that as I let up on the hold I have on him. I even go so far as to let him drop to the floor in a heap at my feet. Wheezing, gasping for breath, I let my presence become all Watto can focus on as he pushes himself back towards his counter, eyes wide in all abject terror. He scrambles away on his back, crab walking backwards with surprising alacrity for such a rotund, disgusting creature, but I sigh in disappointment when he pops over the counter, a holdout blaster in hand. "Really?" I ask, exasperated by this futile effort as I stalk forward, bending to the side as a red laser bolt flies over my shoulder. Ten feet, five, I lazily dodge two more shots, one of which ends up slamming into a repair droid, which promptly falls over, its singular optic sensor glass, and the delicate circuitry beneath its domed head, bursting into so much useless scrap. I don't bother taking his weapon when I'm within melee range, I simply freeze his hand so he can't pull the trigger anymore.

Understanding just how clearly outmatched he is, Watto's free hand goes for something under his desk. He slams down a box onto the countertop, which I make him open, but not before I force his blaster, fingers still locked around the stock, one on the hair trigger, so that its pointed at his own skull. "You won't get away with this outlander!" The words would be more intimidating if Watto hadn't soiled himself in terror by this point. As it is, his voice is a shrill whimper.

"You'd be surprised what I plan to get away with." I reply with such casual disregard, that even I am a little chilled by how routine this has already started to become. I've since started out of Watto's shop, towards the back where I'm sure I'll find his hidden treasury, not that I actually need it anymore, but I pull the trigger on the blaster before I leave. The few droids about the establishment I take the time to short circuit with a liberal application of some Force lightning, but I otherwise make my way towards where I suspect Watto lays his head.

The stench gives his den away long before anything else does, but thankfully I don't have to do much more than wave a hand to pull aside the pile of soiled linens and detritus, revealing an encoded and locked chest partially buried in the dirt and sand beneath the otherwise unremarkable sand blasted hut within the scrap yard's confines. Judging by the size and the weight of it that I can sense when I stretch out my mind, it's filled with every ill begotten cent he's ever earned. This will make a fine gift when the time comes.

I however, have one more stop to make before I can leave this dust ball.

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I arrived at Watto's shop in the early morning hours, with the planet's two suns, because for some reason one sun just isn't enough for some people, only just beginning to rise. I arrive, after a few friendly conversations with the locals, including the same old woman who had warned Anakin of a sandstorm coming their way, who greets me quite warmly indeed as I ask for directions, to Shmi Skywalker's home just before mid afternoon with both suns beating down upon me. It's hot, near to the point of being unbearable, but the natives I'm annoyed to note, seem largely unaffected by the oppressive heat. Then again, my past self was used to the bipolar weather of the American Mideast, specifically Illinois, where in the morning it might be spring, and by the same afternoon you're walking through a blizzard.

As for Watto's money and the transponder box I'd taken, the former I'd already delivered to my ship, hiding it away for the time being, while the other was securely tucked away in the new cloak and robe I've thrown on, this one a far more mundane brown. I was Sheev Palpatine now, rather than the Sith Lord, and for as long as I was able to keep up the illusion, that was all Shmi Skywalker would ever know about me until much, much later in life, assuming I told her the truth at all. Besides, I've murdered at least three people in a day and a half, if not longer by now, I've sated my bloodl.u.s.t well enough for the foreseeable future. Now, it was time to balance the scales in the other direction, to remember my ultimate purpose for being here in this galaxy, let alone on this planet.

Pernilia August was hard not to notice the few moments she's on screen during the Prequel movies. Even beaten and battered by Tuskan Raiders during Attack of the Clones, a group I very much intend to pay a visit to, someday, I thoroughly believed that Anakin's mother was probably one of the more striking of the characters due to her quiet strength and resilience that the viewer can't help but notice. So when I gently knock on her door, hood thrown back, a warm, genial smile on my face, I can't help but be a little giddy although to look at me, I'm the picture of warm tranquility.

That and while I'm currently ten years Shmi's senior, I'd had the opportunity to check, and I can safely say I don't have an old man's shriveled up p.e.n.i.s between my legs. Whether it's because of all of the training under Hego I've suffered through, or because humans in this galaxy live reasonably healthier, longer lives, I couldn't say. I'm just glad I'm surprisingly robust and hearty for a guy pushing fifty. Not that the reason really matters, I didn't intend to take s.e.x.u.a.l advantage of Shmi Skywalker anytime soon, not when she likely needed years of therapy and rehabilitation from having been a slave for most of her life. Really both her and her son could probably benefit from sessions with a licensed professional. I know I'd benefited from such sessions in my past life after everything with my dad had been said and done. And despite what some would say to the contrary, admitting you need help of any kind, especially mental health, is nothing to be ashamed of.

My thoughts are brought short, a first for me since waking up as Sheev of all people, when Shmi opens the door, and regards me with understandable suspicion, and an unfortunate helping of dread. "Yes?"

"I'm truly sorry to bother you, but are you Shmi Skywalker?" I ask, my voice a gentle tenor that I'm relieved to note makes the woman relax slightly even as she continues to regard me with veiled suspicion. There's only so many reasons why a man like me would ever visit a slave after all, and she has no reason to hope or even assume I'm here for her freedom.

"I am..." She trails off, giving me a chance to introduce myself.

"Sheev Palpatine, a Senator...well, honestly soon to be named Supreme Chancellor to the Galactic Republic." I chuckle, embarrassed or so she assumes as I humbly dip my head at the admission. "I know that seems rather farfetched, but I have it on good authority your son has aided in the liberation of my home planet of Naboo." That gets the reaction I'd hoped for as Shmi's chocolate brown eyes, set in a face that looks even more striking up close like this, and she takes in a shaky breath at the news.

"He's...doing well then?" She asks, scarcely able to process what I've just told her.

I smile more openly now, no theatrics necessary anymore as I gesture for her to invite me in if she wishes. When she moves aside, still in a mild state of shock, I gently brush past her, shutting the door before she can do so. "He is, and if I'm any judge," I begin, setting the transponder box down on the table in Shmi's living room, rather what passes for it, "I imagine a mutual friend of ours, Master Qui-Gon Jinn, will assure you he's to be trained as a Jedi after Anakin aided the liberation effort of Naboo's people from the grasp of the Trade Federation." I've since moved to the kitchen to pour her a glass of water just as she manages to jar herself out of her mental paralysis. She starts to say something to the effect I don't have to trouble myself, but I gently shake my head at her refusal. "It's truly no trouble, but as you've no doubt guessed by now, I didn't come here just to congratulate you on raising such a fine young man, Shmi Skywalker."

"Then why did you come here?" She asks as she reluctantly accepts the glass of water, her eyes finally darting towards the box on her low sitting table between two equally shabby looking chairs. Despite her suspicions, I'm relieved that she drinks up, no doubt needing the cool, precious liquid after the shock I've just dropped on her lap.

The budding, slowly forming hope I can sense from her makes this next part all the more joyous for me. "To take you away from all this, not as a slave, but as a free woman." She doesn't see it, but I quickly pull the closer of the two chairs out with a very subtle wave of my hand just as I feel her legs start to give out on her once she actually hears what I've just said.

I'd say I've done my good deed for the day, wouldn't you?

​

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Even though it's difficult to sleep on the way back to Naboo, mainly because I can sense Shmi's swirling emotions all too clearly in the comfortable if tight confines of my personal vessel, I wake up just as we drop out of hyperspace above Naboo, feeling refreshed and ready for the celebrations that are surely about to begin not long after we land. A fear that they might've failed, that we're flying into a trap, is quickly dispelled when we pass by what's left of the Trade Federation droid control ship, Anakin's handiwork in all its glory. As with Shmi, seeing the wreckage of the Lucrehulk up close is something else entirely as I do my best to avoid as much of it as possible while maintaining our course towards the planet's surface.

"He did that." I hear Shmi whisper from the copilot's chair, astonishment and awe audible to my ears.

"He saved so many people with that singular action." I assure her, again needing none of Palpatine's acting skills to convey my genuine gratitude for what her son has done for my home world, my people. It's soon after that I make contact with the ground, and I'm assured that it's safe to land despite having seen the evidence of this for myself. Once more, the verdant beauty of Naboo soon fills the c.o.c.kpit window, and I don't have to look toward Shmi to know she's utterly transfixed by the view. I was 'born' here, and I too can only marvel at the panoramic vista that stretches out before us as I make ready to land at the Royal Palace once more, this time as an honored guest. That and I know there's no record of my having been once already, having established the protocol to erase any and all evidence of my comings and goings when on Separatist business as I'd been previously, so for all anyone knows, this is the first time I've been home for some time.

I'm not surprised to find the Queen, the real Queen, her decoy standing behind her, along with a number of her retainers and guards, awaiting my arrival when I start down the boarding ramp. "Your Highness." I offer warmly and gladly, and while my gaze is on the decoy, my words are meant for Padme. "I see that congratulations are in order."

"Ours is not the only victory we have cause to celebrate Chancellor Palpatine." Sabe 'Amidala' replies, while a far more plainly dressed Padme darts her eyes from me to the last person she expects to see behind me, still at the top of the ramp.

"Shmi?" She gapes, before recovering her composure, putting her skill as an elected official to good use.

"Padme?" Shmi asks in turn, much to my quiet amus.e.m.e.nt as Lady Skywalker slowly descends the ramp.

"Anakin's going to be overjoyed to see you again." Padme adds before she turns to regard me, all pretense and facades forgotten. "You did this." She states rather than asks, already suspecting the answer.

"I did." I reply. "But come, there's much to discuss my friends, and much more to celebrate." Needing no further prompting, Padme, Sabe, and the rest of the entourage are all too happy to head towards the palace's royal dining hall, where a feast has already been arrayed for the victorious heroes of the Republic.

It's here that Shmi forgets she's surrounded by dignitaries, state officials, and royalty alike when she takes one look at the dinner guests just as a blonde haired boy that barely comes up to my waist spins around in his seat. In a burst of speed that would've put Hego to shame, Anakin is out of his chair and running towards his mother as fast as his little legs can carry him just as Shmi meets him halfway across the polished stone floor. The tearful reunion between them is a sight I'll hold onto for as long as I live, and to make it better, it's met with thunderous applause by those who are there to witness such a truly joyous moment. Even Obi-wan and Qui-Gon Jinn are smiling openly, the former joining in the round of applause while the other simply gives me a firm nod of abject respect for what I've just done.

The galaxy has just become a much brighter place from where I'm standing.

​

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End Notes: So the body count so far stands at three. Hego Damask, Maul, and Watto. Yet I've just reunited Shmi with her son after freeing her, albeit 'illegally' since the Hutts will no doubt hear about this eventually, giving Anakin hope and the only family he's got back, and to top it off, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are alive and well. I do believe I'm doing pretty well for the first few days of being everyone's favorite psychopathic Emperor, wouldn't you agree? :D​