-1Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or concepts you read. They belong to George Lucas. Anything, and anyone, you do not recognise, along with the plot, is mine.

Category: Star Wars AU. Part of my as yet unposted Dark Queen and White Knight AU series.

Summary: AU. The Sith's hidden, secret apprentice is sent on her first mission. And her first true kill…

Rating: M. Definitely M.

Warnings: Extremely dark. Includes a vicious, torturous 'execution', sexual situations and mild language. Bear in mind that this is about a Sith.

Notes: This is part of a larger alternate universe entitle Dark Queen and White Knight, in which the Force turns back time, changing several things, including Anakin's age and Padmé's Force-sensitivity. Palpatine discovered a family connection, with an extremely high midichlorian count, and chose to train her as his true apprentice, while Maul and Dooku remain his other 'public' apprentices.

The year '28 BBY' is four years after TPM, six years before AotC. So, Padmé, for example, is eighteen.

This is a test of my alternate universe. If this is responded well to, I'll post up sooner, rather than later. I'll post up regardless, but I'd appreciate useful feedback.

It's a pretty grim story, but some people will probably like it. The main story will have sections along such lines (it's pretty dark), but with some lighter-hearted moments, and more explanation as to the way of things.

This is also the first of several one-shots that will no doubt be a part of the AU, along with the main stories.

Enjoy!

First Blood

By Tanydwr

28 BBY, Coruscant:

She'd killed before.

Her first was clean, ruthless and cool, a murderer brought to her by her Master when she was ten. He had not had her kill before that, fearful of a child's - even a Sith-in-training - ability to hide the effect such an act would have upon them.

She remembered her Master's words.

"You have done well, apprentice. You are truly a Sith now. I dub thee… Darth Bana."

In the eight years since then, killing had become easier, if messier and crueller. She had even killed publicly, if not obviously, during the Trade Federation Crisis four years ago.

But this mission was different.

This kill had to be perfectly carried out. It had to be brutal, messy, painful, and not the slightest hint towards the true perpetrator.

Her victim was a grotesque, foolish, corrupt human from the planet El'Dor. A planet famed for its natural wealth of gold, silver and gemstones, that made much of the best jewellery and suchlike in the galaxy. It had the most effective miners, and the best craftsmen. It was also a strong exporter of steel, a vital component in so much technology.

This man was selling out his planet.

It could not be permitted.

Then there were the other factors.

He was corrupt. He accepted bribes from anyone and anywhere if it suited him. He was a friend to the Trade Federation. An automatic mistake in her books. He visited brothels on a regular basis, even having women shipped to his home to 'entertain' him. His wife lived on their homeplanet.

Bana hoped the woman screwed him around as much as he did her, but she also hoped it was with someone she cared about. She would need someone to comfort her soon.

This man was the reason Bana was dressed in a silver bikini-like outfit, her hair 'cut' short and dyed bright pink, her face heavily made-up. She thanked the Force that she was capable of regrowing her hair when necessary, and even dissolving the dye if she needed to before she had time to wash it out.

This man was the reason Bana was dancing around a pole provocatively, her jewellery glinting in the dim light of the brothel's club, actively seducing any male who set eyes on her.

But it was his eyes she needed. He had not been down for a week - enough time for her to establish herself, and no doubt for him to place new 'orders' with Madam Berit, the Housemistress, a woman who actually seemed to care for the women in her service.

This man had a reputation for being rougher than he ought with the women sent to his bed. Madam Berit did not like that at all. And she was quite happy to co-operate when Bana informed her that she would be 'correcting his problem'. The Housemistress may even have understood the full scope of what she had meant.

He had arrived.

Bana could not hear the words uttered to the Housemistress as she danced, but put on a show nonetheless. Her outfit concealed little, tight as it was, and she was young enough to interest the man.

Ugh, she thought in disgust. The man's habits were not worth thinking of.

She slid up and down the pole sensually, loosing a hand to swing around it, briefly caressing each face that surrounded her platform. She leaned back, swaying to the music, mimicking the actions of sex, fuelling the desires of the men watching her.

Men who cannot even gain a mistress properly, she thought scornfully. She had learnt much of such things from her Master and her public life. She had little sympathy for men who had to pay a woman to get one into their bed, although she guessed it was an advantage for some.

She scanned the crowd as she danced, watching her mark, then looking for any other points of interest.

Jedi, interesting, Bana mused. But these Jedi were not here on business. They were here for release. They preach about doing good, yet have to come here for physical satisfaction. She almost shook her head in amusement at the contradictions and foolish restrictions of the Jedi Code.

But she supposed it was better than their getting too frisky with someone they were supposed to protect.

Her mark was watching her now. She smiled seductively, capturing his eyes with her own, the contact lingering just long enough to get him interested. She could sense his interest already.

She almost smirked. This will be far too easy.

Less than half an hour later, she was being led into his rooms in Coruscant.

"Ana." He murmured her false name, kissing her neck, running his hands over her midriff. "Such a lovely name for such a lovely woman."

"You flatter me too much." Bana replied, faking a moan as he flicked his tongue over her neck.

Despite his expert movements, he did very little to arouse her. She could not be aroused by such a weakling in the Force. And her life was already bound to another's. This was merely a job, a mission, that she accomplished with all detachment possible.

"Oh no, I don't flatter you at all." He smirked, suddenly ripping the bikini top from her body and flinging her onto the bed.

She turned, faking horror and fear as he attacked her breasts. She gave appropriate moans and groans, but felt so detached she could hardly look upon this as foreplay. It was merely… a distraction. For him. From her true intentions.

Finally she moved, and took his head in her hands, kissing him roughly. The kiss sent no shivers up her spine, flared no desire in her body, struck no love in her heart. Even as his tongue danced in her mouth, she moaned and acted the part of the lover. The whore. The prostitute. That was all she was to him. And to be honest, what she felt was probably what any other felt in the same situation.

He was not attractive. He was in his fifties, tall, but growing a pot-belly, his beard and hair grey, hiding a rigid, angular face that had few redeeming features from the thin, cruel mouth to the large, beak-like nose. His skin was sickeningly soft and smooth for a man of his age, but unsurprising for one of his station, and he smelt of herbs and spices too strongly to be attractive.

He made to tear the bottom half of her bikini from her, but she moved too quickly for him to do so. Now on top of him, she began grinding her hips into his body, arousing him, smirking at his moans and implorations.

"No, no, let me make it better." She murmured, kissing him softly.

She sank her nails into his back, pulling him on top of her, scratching wildly, making marks to join the others on his back. These would scar too, if he lived long enough. But he would not.

He hissed in pain seizing her wrists and pinning them above her head, attacking her neck and breasts, kissing her bruisingly.

He was aroused, distracted and intense. She used the Force to release her right wrist.

In a single move, she yanked the blade hidden in her boot free and plunged it into the soft flesh of his torso. He gulped in horror, staring at her in fear.

She admired the fear in his eyes, revelled in the feeling of the kill, the hunt coming to an end. It had all boiled down to this moment, when she rid the galaxy of a cruel, corrupt, dangerous politician. A man who didn't deserve his position. A man who hurt the women he paid to come into his bed. A man who betrayed everything he supposedly stood for.

He stared at her with eyes wide and open in shock.

"Wh-what?" He rasped out.

Blood dripped onto her bare torso, making her feel the most alive she had all evening. The iron smell stung her nose, but the power the Dark Side was now granting her was intoxicating as she poured her hatred into that first stab. She pushed him off and onto the bed, caressing his face… Then stabbed him a second and a third time, his torso, but carefully not hitting any major organs. Too make matters worse, his arousal exploded all over his body as he was unable to control himself, and too close to be brought down through fear, pain and horror.

She laughed at his scream of pain, mortification and discomfort.

"What… Why?"

"Men like you are worthless." She hissed. "Traitors to their wives, traitors to their planets, traitors to the Republic. Your execution was ordered."

"She - she hired you!" He gasped as she now struck the major arteries in his wrists, then his legs.

"Your wife? No. But I hope she has someone to comfort her. She's about to become a very rich widow. Appropriate, really, for a twenty-nine-year-old. She's got plenty of time left, and now plenty of money with which to enjoy it." Bana hissed, smirking, enjoying the man's pain as he screamed from the wounds.

He was in agony. It was so palpable she could taste it. And taste it she did. For all her greater intentions, her future plans, she was a Sith. And she knew how and when to use the Dark Side. She could even use it in 'light' ways. She used all facets of the Force, and that preserved her as much as only using the Dark Side would have twisted her features.

"You're in so much pain." She murmured, delighted. "The blood is flowing out of your body slowly, but you know that you'll die of blood loss before any other wound kills you." She moved the flat of the blade caressingly over his cheek before viciously slashing it. "You're a traitor, and the galaxy shall know it!"

Slowly, painfully, she carved the word 'traitor' into his chest, underlining it with a flourish.

"I'd leave you to bleed, but I can't risk anyone knowing about me." She murmured. She gave him a mocking kiss on his forehead, before hissing, "Sleep well."

Several knife flashes later, and the man was screaming for the loss of his eyes. A few more, and his throat was slashed, his stomach pierced and several more wounds made his face barely recognisable.

Bana looked at him dispassionately, before wiping her blade on the sheet and resheathing it in her boot.

She stripped the bikini bottoms from her body and draped them and the top over her victim's body mockingly framing the word 'traitor'.

She carefully entered the bathroom, washing away all traces of blood from her body.

Then she planted the evidence she had so carefully snuck into her victim's apartment three days before.

Metal scratched a doorframe. A few hairs littered the bed. Prepared data pads were planted on his desk.

She slid on the set of clothes she had left earlier and used the Force to grow her hair and twisted it up to hide the pink ends.

The leather was her classic suit for situations such as these, although she usually wore black, rather than silver, boots.

She carefully erased any further evidence of her presence from the room and used the Force to obscure any possible identification on the outfit she had used earlier.

Her victim was killed by a bounty-hunter for his crimes against his planet, albeit a female bounty-hunter.

She walked out of the apartment, and opened a comm-channel when she entered her speeder.

"Apprentice?"

"It is done, my lord."

"Excellent, apprentice. Now return home. Your decoy cannot fool them forever." Darth Sidious ordered.

Bana recalled the time, just two months ago, when her decoy had uncovered the truth of her identity.

"Very well, my master." She switched the comm-link off, and headed towards her ship.

Senator Kyn Claudon of El'Dor was found dead the next morning.

And Darth Bana disappeared to return to her duties as Queen Amidala of the Naboo.

XXXXX

A/N:

So, are you horrified, disgusted, disbelieving?

Yes, Padmé is Sidious' secret apprentice. You discover exactly how that happened in the Prologue of the main (first) story.

Before you shout at me that Padmé could never do such a thing, bear in mind that is definitely AU, and she has a different history to the canon Padmé we all know and love (or hate, if you want, but I don't).

I'd love some feedback and opinions on this. It's a lot darker than what I usually write and my first post in the Star Wars section. I don't believe it goes over an M-rating, but if you feel it does, tell me and I'll tone it down.

Please grant me feedback! I love feedback. I live for feedback!

Oh, and flames will be used to melt the snow we currently have, though it melts fine on it's own… Maybe to warm up my wardrobe, then, or help the central heating… It's cold…