Chapter 6

"The Queen wants an audience with me?" Darth Vader repeated as he refitted his now-clean glove over his cybernetic hand, which he had inspected to make sure no blood or anything slipped in.

"Yes. There's been a development while you were gone and she wishes to hear your thoughts on the matter," Panaka explained briskly, making a point to not stare at the artificial limbs. "After you had rested, of course."

"Very well, Captain," Vader agreed as he stood to follow the man. Curious, whatever this was. He could sense Obi-Wan was busy speaking with Qui-Gon on the communicator, likely about finding the apparent Chosen One. So what could this be about?

Reaching the semi-circular room that, unless he was completely wrong, served as substitute throne room. Naboo had oddly adherent imagery and traditions of offices for having an elected monarchy.

"Your Highness," Vader greeted with a nod.

"Lord Vader," the false queen greeted, returning the gesture with practice nobility and respect. "We received a transmission from Naboo."

"A transmission?" Vader repeated, not recalling this detail, leaving him wondering if Obi-wan just failed to mention it or if it was an effect of himself being present.

"Yes, Governor Sio Bibble pleaded that I contact him for instruction. He says that the Trade Federation is starving my people," Sabe explained with a level tone. "The Jedi believe it is a trap, that any response would allow them to track us."

"They are correct," Vader confirmed, staring at her intently. He never knew Sabe, having died just prior to his reuniting with Padme just prior to the beginning of the Clone Wars. Yet he felt as if he knew her. Padme spoke of her at times. A body-double of someone like her needed to know her role intimately, leading to a deep friendship. Sabe knew everything about Padme; she needed to in order to pass as her. She knew how to behave as the Queen even on topics they did not agree on.

Which meant she asked him here because she thought it was what Padme would want, to ask him something about the situation.

"You wish to know if your people truly are suffering," Vader summarized, causing stiffened spines to form around the room.

"I can see the rift between you and the Jedi, Lord Vader, but on these matters you appear to be of similar minds," the queen commented, staring at him intently. "However, you appear more forthcoming in your council, so I would hear it."

"The message is both truth and lie in one," Vader stated, getting an odd look from Panaka. "That is no riddle. The Trade Federation are cowards. They would never risk the full consequences of what would happen to them if they endangered an entire world's population to such a degree, all over a trade dispute. Your people suffer, no doubt. Most in fear. If any are being starved, it is likely only the capital. Your world, as a whole, has suffered very little in the way of human lives," Vader assured.

"How can you be so sure?" Sabe asked with a scowl.

"To be a more clear version of the Jedi: The Force would have allowed me to sense an entire planet suddenly dying, from starvation or otherwise. Conditions for you people have only, at most, mildly worsened since our escape," he explained, mentally wondering why Jedi didn't just outright say stuff like that to reassure people. "Beyond that? Tell me, did your governor truly sound like himself, pleading for you in such a manner to surrender what your planet holds so dear?"

The handmaidens and guards all looked at one another in concern, some muttering. "You believe he is being controlled?" Sabe summarized.

"They have a...force wielder working for them. Could he be doing something similar to the Jedi mind-tricks I've heard of?" Panaka asked with a scowl.

"I'm truly not positive that your Governor's mind is weak enough for that," Vader admitted, having felt the politician was of some mental fortitude. Not great, but enough to resist such tactics. "More to the point, Captain? While the force is powerful, you should not underestimate how effective the more practical and straight forward method of threatening someone's family can be," Vader pointed out. "Regardless, I know what you and the Jedi think of this matter: You're running out of time."

The words reflected the grimness permeating the room perfectly. "Vader, do you believe we will be able depart soon?" Sabe cut straight to the heart of the matter.

"We will be returning on our journey tomorrow, the day after at the latest if the ship proves uncooperative with the repairs," Vader answered simply, surprising them all slightly, but they were steadily becoming accustomed to the efficiency of their dark ally. "If there is nothing else, Your Highness?"

It was phrased as asking permission to leave, but it was evident to everyone it was a courtesy offer. Without good reason, he'd depart regardless of their wishes.

"No, Lord Vader, thank you for your counsel," Sabe granted. With his cape flowing in his wake, the Dark Lord of the Sith departed without another word.

Mos Espa, Arena Hanger

Vader hated, no, utterly despised how much he did NOT hate this specific spot on this hellhole of sand. He only took comfort in knowing any vague fondness for the place was due to it being a place of engineers, practically artisans, using anything they could to make the best high-speed pod-based vehicle they could.

That and this is where he mastered most of his skills with electronics.

He stared frostily at the back of Watto as he spoke with Qui-Gon Jinn not too far from him. He had extremely mixed feelings about Watto, always had. Yes, they had been his slaves, but Watto ranked very low on the chart of cruelty. And he had sold his mother to a man that freed her...which had resulted in her death due to Tusken Raiders...but she lived those years of her life peacefully with loved ones...

Vader shook his head, realizing how messed up a Sith's life story must be if he can't decide if he should truly hate someone he had been enslaved to.

"Hello?"

Vader stiffened as he slowly, slowly turned around and stared down at the fair-hair boy staring up at him with wide eyes. The Dark Lord stared down at his younger self, a heavy silence growing in weight with every second as they stood there, unable to look away from each other.

This was off. He rode here with Padme and his mother on a pair of eopies. Why was he by himself?

"...Mister, you are so Wizard," Anakin said with what was definitely awe.

Vader blinked at an agonizing slothful pace, completely refusing the idea he had heard his other-self correctly. Because a child just said that he, Darth Vader, was wizard. Was he insane at that age? Then again...he supposed his image was appealing in a dark and intimidating manner.

"Are you a friend of Qui-Gon?" Anakin asked, eyeing the lightsaber that went unnoticed by most between his cape. Many a would-be assassin had believed the device to just be part of his suit.

The Dark Lord finally managed to gather himself. "An ally, of sorts. I take it you are racing today," Vader mused, glancing up towards the hanger entrance, where he indeed saw the camel-like creatures approaching with Padme and...his mother, along with a childhood friend of his, Kitster. He tore his eyes towards C3PO and R2, the latter pulling the podracer he remembered so vaguely and so clearly at the same time, having built the entire thing himself in one way or another.

"How'd you know?" Anakin asked with a curious scowl.

"You will know in time," Vader answered cryptically, glancing back at the pair that were now or soon would be bartering for the life of this boy. "Be mindful of your enemies, boy. You should be aware of how little others care for the fairness of their victory," he forewarned ominously. The statement also doubled as a scolding to himself. He really should he expected Sebulba to cheat.

"Hey, boy!" Watto barked, clearly angered as he flew over to the two. "Bonapa keesa pateeso, o wanna mee...tee... cho...bodd?" the Toydarian started to rant, his voice growing softer and more unsteady as he felt a chilly pressure on him. He slowly looked up into the empty, soul crushing lenses of Darth Vader's helmet. "Never mind. I'll...I'll just be going," Watto muttered fearfully, leaving while taking a cautionary glance over his shoulder as he did.

"What was that all about?" Anakin asked with a shiver from the chill in the air.

Luckily, Vader was saved from having to answer.

"Vader!" Padme called as they arrived on their eopies, the droids coming up as well. "I see you have met Ani," Padme greeted with a small smirk as she disembarked.

"Anakin," The boy corrected lest the nickname be mistaken as the real one, before blinking as the name registered. "Wait, THIS is Darth Vader?" he asked in surprise, looking the dark monolith over again.

"Ani, why does everything interesting here happen around you?" Kitster asked, staring with wide eyes at the Sith Lord before shrinking under his glance.

Vader rose an unseen eyebrow at Padme as Qui-Gon arrived to help Shmi down. "Indeed he is," the Jedi Master answered idly.

"What did you tell him?" Vader asked in the flattest tone his synthesizer could manage.

"I told him not to be scared of you," Qui-Gon answered truthfully.

"I told him not to be rude- he's a little tinkerer," Padme opined, glancing at Vader's limb before motioning to the mother. "Lord Vader, this is Anakin's mother, Shmi Skywalker."

Vader steadied himself as much as possible. Yes, he had spoken to her briefly before confronting Maul, but between said assassin and holding off the winds, he was able to not focus on just who he was talking to.

All he wanted to do was say he knew exactly who she was so they could move on, so he didn't have to stand here and remember her dying in his arms while standing next to the wife he unintentionally murdered while pregnant with their child.

"Acceptable advice on both fronts," Vader conceded frostily as he nodded to the woman in question.

"Apologies for my behavior last night. I thought you were a bounty hunter or something at first, but your friends explained things to me," Shmi apologized as the ever kind soul that she was before she gained a pensive and uncertain look. "They said you were like a Jedi, but...not."

"That is the mildest of explanations, but sufficient," Vader answered, keeping his responses as short as possible without appearing rude. Well, rude compared to his normal behavior.

Qui-Gon sensed the distraction in Vader, but obviously misinterpreted. "We should talk," the Jedi master stated, nodding to the deeper parts of the hanger. "I'm guessing you sensed him too," he started after a few paces.

"I was aware of the boy since we arrived on this world," Vader lied skillfully. "He is strong with the force, he will win."

"That, we agree on," Qui-Gon conceded as he stroked his beard, obviously contemplating what to say and what not to.

How very Sith of him, Vader noted with amusement. "You believe the boy is your Chosen One," Vader stated bluntly, shocking the Jedi. "Do not let your fears run away with you, Jinn. I am not here for the boy. He would learn well under you."

Qui-Gon scowled at that. Why, oh why would a Sith refuse someone with that much potential as an apprentice? But he couldn't ask that here, in the open. "Your friend left."

"Kryat dragons became involved," Vader answered bluntly. "He shall not trouble us for now, regardless. I have planted enough doubt in his mind that he will return to his...employer to seek answers," Vader assured.

Qui-Gon's eyes went wide at that. Vader knew they would. "I thought there was only suppose to be two?" the Jedi inquired tensely.

"In my lifetime, I have discovered something that you Jedi are mistaken about, backwards even on a very fundamental level," Vader stated, leaning in to drive the point clear, and to avoid being overheard. "Only Jedi deal in absolutes. There is nothing truly absolute about how the Sith operate. Not anymore."

As Vader leaned back, Qui-Gon was suddenly very, very worried. Not about what Darth Vader would do, but what he knew and the Jedi didn't.

How many Sith were there? Or Dark Siders? The Order had always known there were some groups hidden throughout the galaxy that dabbled in the Dark Side, but never anything as dangerous as the Sith: Or so they believed. Yet he knew there were two and a third was implied. Had the Sith discarded the Rule of Two? Was there some secret Sith Empire that had only now had tendrils exposed into the light?

But all of that, all those terrifying possibilities, still didn't give a single hint more on Vader himself and why he revealed himself in this way.

The tense moment was broken by Padme walking up to them, tension marking her face. "Master Qui-Gon, we might have a problem: Anakin has never even finished a race," she informed, keeping her voice low.

"It will be fine," Qui-Gon assured, almost absently.

Vader wished he could snort at Padme's almost dumbfounded expression. "While I agree with the Jedi, I did secure alternate methods to obtaining the parts," Vader reassured pragmatically.

"You did?" Handmaiden and Jedi questioned at the same time.

"Just because I am certain the boy will win does not mean I trust anyone on this planet to keep to an agreement," Vader explained simply and he meant it: the timeline was changing, he would not be surprised if getting screwed over on Tatooine would be a ripple effect. "Should the worst happen, I can use the items in the sack to procure parts I can form into makeshift replacements," Vader assured, deciding to leave out that Jabba the Hutt owed him a favor now.

"Then...should we really be endangering this boy with this race?" Padme asked in concern, glancing over at the sweet little boy that called her an angel.

And Vader was mentally face-palming as he remembered how corny young-him was when he met Padme. "There is more at stake in this race than you know, Handmaiden," Vader stated coolly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to acquire a seat: Podracing is perhaps the only redeeming quality this planet has," he informed bluntly as he stalked off.

Qui-Gon just shook his head, filing away that this un-sith-like Sith Lord liked podracing, apparently.

Meanwhile

Darth Plagueis was an old Muun and an old Sith. Well over eighty standard years old now, the twilight years for much of his kind. Just in terms of logistics he was happy that the Grand Plan was unfolding soon. Trying to explain how Hego Damask II, Magister of the InterGalactic Banking Clan, kept prolonging his life would be tough to explain. Yes, he could just take up a new identity, but his current need for a transpirator mask from an assassination attempt would complicate making personas that would not be recognized too easily.

Still, the finer issues of secretly being immortal, or so he believed, were not what troubled him. No what troubled him is what troubled the whole of the galaxy, even those they weren't aware of it.

The Third Sith Lord.

Plagueis should be mad, he knew. After all his master, Darth Tenebrous, had attempted to replace him with a secret apprentice, who the muun later defeated. But honestly, Plagueis hated the Rule of Two, wishing to do away with it entirely by him and his apprentice becoming immortal. Unlike other Siths, the muun was truly fond of his apprentice with all his scheming ways. He wouldn't call it something homoerotic, but more parental in its own way. Honestly, when the Jedi were gone, he would be fine just spending a few hundred years with Sidious to slowly take over the rest of the Galaxy if the Galactic Empire part of the plan fell through.

For that and more, like the purely scientific part of his mind, he welcomed this interloper and all that he brought with him- for now, at least. His mere existence would hopefully bring Sidious completely over to his way of thinking, discarding the Rule of Two. But more importantly, this could imply an entirely separate order of Siths! One that had remained hidden even from them! How had they developed, both as a culture- as much as an Order of Bane could be said to have a culture with only two living and true members- and as force users? What techniques and discoveries had they made on their own?

Of course, it was equally possible this Sith was a self made Sith. Something most of his order would scoff at, he knew, but he knew it was possible in theory. After all, the Sith started with one exiled and therefor "Dark" Jedi, so any force user could in theory build themselves up to being a Sith. And when one takes into account all the Holocrons and the existences known as Force ghosts, there was a ample supply of informative teachers if one could discover them.

Honestly, whereas Sidious found the whole thing infuriating, Plagueis only found amusement in the tantrums of his apprentice. That was the big schism in their personalities. While Sidious could and would rise to any challenge, he did so with hatred of surprise obstacles while Plagueis took to them with curiosity and fascination, saving his hatred for true setbacks and enemies. The Nabooian was so used to being in control and manipulating, it had been too long since something truly beyond his sight had shaken up his schemes. It was good for him, a learning experience.

True, Plagueis found it odd how readily the Dark Side seemed to jump to aide this new Master, as if it had a new favorite, but it only made the muun more curious. And the Dark Side still clung to himself readily, so it was not like this rival's presence diminished him any yet. Even more importantly, Sidious was throthing over nothing in Plageius's opinion.

Yes, someone this powerful in the force just revealing themselves was alarming and rocked several beliefs the Sith had, but ultimately this entity hadn't done anything to ruin their plans. In fact, he was helping in Plageius's opinion. Yes, they could complete this phase of the plan regardless of whether the Trade Federation succeeded or failed, but getting the Queen to Coruscant was the best way to get Sidious elected as Supreme Chancellor, and himself as Co-Chancellor. If she didn't, they'd have to get some of their puppets to finally call Chancellor Valorum's competency into question for failing to handle the Trade Federation properly or secure Naboo's safety.

That was how you win: make plans that can succeed no matter how a situation goes.

The true Dark Lord of the Sith honestly didn't believe he could defeat this entity with absolute certainty, but he also wasn't sure he needed to. For a Sith, this one was oddly non-aggressive at times. He had shaken Sidious up a bit when he expelled his tendril from his space in the Force, but had very much left Plagueis alone. And the muun was not stupid enough to believe he went unnoticed, even as careful as he was.

His mind began to wonder, did this one have an apprentice also? More than one perhaps? If not, perhaps he could aide Sidious in teaching Maul some restraint, maybe take him on as a full apprentice?

He shook his head at that, feeling he was getting too far ahead of himself. He needed to calm Sidious down and focus on the meeting with Maul that was coming up; the Dathomirian was returning to Coruscant but ignoring all attempts to communicate with him. He wanted answers. Answers Sidious had to be calm with delivering while keeping the assassin on their side. After all, if this was a new enemy, he was great and terribly powerful in the force. They might need all three of them against him.

But before all of that, Plagueis was confident in one thing: Watching and sensing the Jedi reacting to the newcomer was amusing enough, he couldn't wait to feel the Order's feeling at the idea of a Sith HELPING the republic. And if that was what this Third Sith was doing, or pretending to do long term, it could even make the Grand Plan's success easier in transition.

Yes, foe or not, this would be amusing to witness, if only through the Force.

Mos Espa, Arena

Vader glided through the halls of the arena, having left the stands as the race neared the end. He had observed that Sebulba had been unsuccessful in tampering with the pod of his child-self, all but guaranteeing victory this time around. Several instances had remained the same: Sebulba throwing something into another contestant's engines, one crashing in the caves in the first lap, tusken raiders making a surprise appearance. But several things had changed. There was, amazingly, less crashes all around. Only three, not counting the one who's pod failed to even start. Young Anakin had still gone flying up a service ramp, but so had two others: one crashing and another managing to land on top of the canyon, but unable to continue. Also, another pair of pilots had apparently gone awol and just kept trying to kill each other. Not surprising, him and Sebulba were hardly the only podracers with issues.

Still though, he contemplated the significance of this change: If he was truly honest with himself, there were two events that gave him a bit of an ego growing up. Shockingly, the Chosen One thing wasn't one of them. No, that would be having won the Pod-Race despite being sabotaged and having blown up the Federation command ship in the battle of Naboo. One had won his freedom, the other had saved a planet and his new friends. Big achievements for a child of that age.

While he hated to rob his younger self of that self esteem boost, something a former slave-child needed, he also felt it could be helpful for him. And Vader just wasn't ready to contemplate the idea of teaching himself to be a sith. Besides, Vader himself needed to cement his image in this timeline before some of the Jedi decided to paint him as the source of all the evils and problems in the galaxy. The Trade Federation's occupation of Naboo supplied the perfect stage for that, and the potential to deal with Sidious early in this grand game the Order of Bane had made of the galaxy.

Exiting out into the arena itself, he felt a strange proxy-yet-personal pride as he saw his younger self had crossed the finish line in first place, followed by the deafening cheer of the crowd over the unexpected victory. Anakin came to a halt not too far from Vader's location, basking in his moment of glory and praise. Standing a short distance away, Vader decided to save his own awkward(for himself) congratulations until after Qui-Gon and the others got theirs in as he had no desire to ruin this moment for the boy.

But others had different plans.

Vader was initially just annoyed that Sebulba hadn't crashed at all, but his mood grew darker when he saw the dug pull up close to the Skywalker pod...and jump out to lunge at the boy.

The cheering audience gasped into silence. Sebulba, for all his cheating and treachery, had never resorted to outright fighting his fellow racers outside races. The arboreal alien slammed the young slave against the human's pod, using one of his feet to all but strangle Anakin while launching a sucker punch into his gut with another.

That was as far as he would have gotten.

Qui-Gon would have pulled him off with the Force.

Several fans of the only human podracer would have pulled the raging former champion off.

A few people that hated the dug would have used this as an excuse to blast him.

Anakin would have force pushed him off in a moment of rage and fear.

Any of those things would have happened if Vader didn't do anything, he could sense as much.

He didn't have to get involved.

The Force would not let Skywalker die here, like this.

Darth Vader didn't care.

No one could mistake an invisible force pulling Sebulba as anything but, well, the force. But they could easily overlook an entity as large as Vader moving forward at seemingly impossible speeds.

Sebulba found himself ripped from the boy by a durasteel grip on his own throat. So great was his indignation at being defeated by this boy, this slave, this human that he did not even register who or what was grabbing him. He struggled hard and futilely in the hand of Vader, who slowly walked towards Sebulba's doom.

Anakin Skywalker was only vaguely aware of his mother and Padme rushing to him, hugging and checking him for injuries. He could hear Qui-Gon yelling at Vader, but couldn't make out the words.

All he could do was watch, utterly transfixed and uncertainly horrified as he watched Vader hold Sebulba up and against the still-spinning turbines of the dug's own engines. He couldn't see it, but he could hear and he could imagine it as the blades flayed and chopped at Sebulba, thrashing about and screaming to escape his fate. But Vader made sure to push him in slowly so that the podracer knew exactly what was happening to him.

The horrible, wet, crunchy thrashing of the engine eating flesh and blood soon came to an end, leaving ominous silence.

All gazed upon Vader as he cast aside the ruined torso of Sebulba and walked away. Fear and terror filled the hearts of many at such a gruesome and cruel death, even for Tatooine. He paused as he glanced at Anakin Skywalker. Whereas Padme had this look of slight disgust and confusion and Shmi was torn between gratitude and horror, Anakin looked upon him with purely uncomprehending eyes.

And looking upon his younger self, he said one thing. The only thing that truly mattered about this whole thing, really: "You are a slave no more, Skywalker."