Location: Galactic Senate – Chancellor's Office
Date: 24 BBY – Four Years and Six Months Before the Clone Wars
The twilight sun spilled molten gold through the tall, transparent windows of Chancellor Palpatine's office, casting long shadows across his obsidian desk. Outside, Coruscant hummed with life. Inside—there was only silence.
Cain, cloaked in dark-trimmed Jedi robes, stepped into the office alone. His hands were folded, his expression composed. There was no fear. Just focus.
The receptionist had been told to give Cain a brief five-minute window. But they wouldn't interrupt.
Not for this.
Across the room, Chancellor Palpatine stood with his back to the boy, hands clasped calmly as he looked out over the cityscape.
"Knight Cain," Palpatine said smoothly, his tone friendly, grandfatherly. "A rare visit. I hear congratulations are in order."
Cain smiled politely. "And I hear you've been busy, Chancellor. Very busy."
Palpatine turned slowly, that practiced warmth in his eyes—the kind that fooled senators, generals, Jedi… even Anakin.
But not Cain.
The Jedi Knight stepped closer, still calm. Still respectful.
"You know, the first time I truly knew something was wrong," Cain began, "was when I met the clones face to face. Their eyes… their emotions. Their fate already sealed."
He exhaled. "That's when I started following the trail."
Palpatine tilted his head, curious. "And where did that trail lead, young one?"
Cain didn't sit.
He stood tall, centered, and said—quietly but without hesitation:
"To Darth Sidious."
The words shattered the calm.
Palpatine's expression did not change. Not yet. But his gaze sharpened behind the smile.
Cain stepped into the light, golden eyes glowing softly. "Let's cut the act, my lord. We both know it's tiring."
Silence. Heavy. Charged.
Cain continued. "I know what you are. What you've done. Who you've killed."
He raised a datapad in one hand—but didn't activate it.
"I know about your early years on Naboo—how your ambition started before you were even trained. You killed your mother. Your siblings. Burned your father alive in his sleep and passed it off as a tragedy. All before you ever took the name Sidious."
Still no words from Palpatine. But his fingers twitched behind his back.
Cain took another step closer.
"I know how you murdered your Master—Darth Plagueis the Wise—while he slept. I know of your Shadow Net, your blackmail on half the Senate. The financing of the clone army using Tyranus, who you cast aside once the pieces moved."
Cain lowered his voice.
"I know how you watched Anakin Skywalker grow. How you whispered to him as a friend. How you intended to turn him into Vader, your right hand. A tool of fear."
Now Palpatine blinked—once.
Cain narrowed his gaze.
"I know about the project under the codename 'Stellar Hammer.' Better known, once translated from your archives, as the Death Star."
Silence fell once more.
Palpatine turned fully to face him now.
"You've done your homework," he said softly.
Cain smiled faintly. "I've lived through your end once before."
Palpatine's eyes flickered for a fraction of a second. The first true emotion—recognition.
Cain pressed forward.
"You're not the first Sith Lord I've studied, Sidious. But you are the most effective. You don't burn the galaxy with fire—you melt it with lies. And it almost worked."
Palpatine said nothing.
"I'm not here to kill you," Cain said, voice dropping. "Not yet."
Now, Palpatine's expression shifted—mild interest lacing his face. "Then what, young Cain? What is this? A threat? A negotiation?"
Cain lowered the datapad.
"It's a deal."
Palpatine raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly are the terms of this… arrangement?"
"I won't expose you," Cain said, clear and direct. "I won't interfere with your puppets or your games… for now."
Palpatine's brows furrowed slightly, his voice dipping to a velvet edge. "And in return?"
Cain's eyes glinted.
"You stay out of my way. You don't move against my Order. You don't touch Anakin. And you don't tamper with the Republic's new alliance systems."
A pause.
Cain's voice turned cold.
"You're useful as you are dangerous. I have bigger enemies—ancient ones. The galaxy isn't ready to lose you yet. But the moment you step too far... I'll end you."
Palpatine stared, and for a moment—the mask cracked.
The Sith Lord behind the mask saw Cain not as a boy—but as a rival. A future enemy. Or perhaps… an anomaly even he couldn't predict.
Then, he smiled.
"Is that it?"
Cain nodded.
"For now."
"What makes you think you'll survive what's coming, boy?"
Codex Entry 037 – The Devil's Mask
Every Sith believes they are inevitable.
Every tyrant believes they are too valuable to remove.
I didn't confront him because I could win.
I confronted him because I wanted him to know—
the future no longer belongs to him.
Cain had just turned to leave.
The doors hissed halfway open.
That's when it happened.
In a blur of motion—faster than anything Cain had ever felt—Chancellor Palpatine was on him.
His ceremonial robes flared back, revealing a slim, hidden lightsabers—red and humming, already mid-swing. Cain ducked and rolled instinctively as the blades seared the air where his head had been a second ago.
"Let's see if your courage is anything more than foolishness."
The pleasantries were over.
Cain landed in a crouch, eyes wide with sudden clarity. His golden-blacked saber ignited with a snap-hiss, and just in time—he blocked the next blow with sparks screaming from their clash.
Palpatine moved like a viper, not wasting energy, but flowing from one killing strike to the next. It was elegance without form, grace twisted with murder. A Sith Lord unleashed—veiled no longer.
Cain used all of it—his years of training with Plo, reflexes from Seris, the subtle patience from Master Fay, and the deep teachings from Bastila and Revan.
But it wasn't enough.
Two minutes in, Cain's body was already screaming.
Three minutes in, he realized the horrifying truth: Palpatine was playing with him.
Not even breathing hard. Not truly trying.
The realization hit like a freighter.
"You disappoint me," Sidious snarled as their blades clashed again, forcing Cain down on one knee.
Cain's vision blurred. The air crackled around them from displaced Force energy. Still—he stayed centered. He focused.
He reached into the Force. Deeper.
And then it hit him—the fracture.
The Shatterpoint.
Sidious had overextended his left side in a movement no one else would notice—an unconscious echo of an old injury. Tiny. Exploitable.
Cain's eyes flared gold. He twisted his body, diverted a feint into a real counter, and struck clean across Sidious' chest—burning a line of charred fabric and flesh.
Palpatine staggered back, eyes widening.
A real hit.
For a split second… Cain thought he could win.
Then the air dropped.
Palpatine roared.
And the mask fell away.
He was no longer the Chancellor.
He was Darth Sidious.
His face twisted. His speed doubled.
Cain barely raised his saber before it was shattered, cut in half with a precise flick.
Lightning erupted from Palpatine's hands—a storm of hatred and power.
Cain screamed as it hit him, every nerve lighting up in agony. He fell to the floor, writhing, trying to call the Force to him, but the pain was too much—too loud.
He saw his end coming.
And then—
Two lightsabers blocked the lightning.
A purple blade and a curved red one.
Anakin Skywalker and Count Dooku.
Standing between Cain and Sidious.
The storm ceased. The office smelled of ozone and scorched marble.
Cain blinked. He was gasping, barely able to move—but he saw them.
Anakin's face was twisted in rage. "Step away from him!"
Dooku was calm, but the tremble in his grip betrayed his fury. "You've made your point, Sidious."
Palpatine straightened.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He deactivated both lightsabers, the room suddenly dead silent.
He turned his back on all three of them.
And walked to his chair.
Sat.
Turned it to face the skyline.
"You have a deal, Cain," Sidious said without looking back. His voice was cold steel now, stripped of charm. "And I've taken your measure."
Cain forced himself to stand, his legs trembling.
"You lost," he muttered.
"No," Sidious replied. "I simply let the game play another round."
He raised a single hand and waved.
"Now leave… before I change my mind. And kill you both, along with my apprentice-to-be."
Anakin's saber flared—but Cain reached out, gripping his arm.
"Don't," he rasped. "We came for truth. We got it."
Dooku turned his back on Sidious.
Anakin hesitated… then stepped back.
The three left in silence, the door hissing shut behind them.
Outside the Office – A Quiet Hall
Cain sat against the wall. His tunic was scorched. His hands trembled. His lightsaber was gone.
Anakin knelt beside him.
"Why didn't you wait for us?" he snapped.
"Because I had to know," Cain whispered. "I had to see how far he's gone."
Dooku stood silently, watching the lift doors.
"Now you do," the Count said. "And now we all know—we aren't ready. Not yet."
Cain closed his eyes, still feeling the lightning crawl in his veins.
"But we will be."
Codex Entry 038 – The Emperor's Wrath
He is no longer a shadow.
No longer a rumor.
He is real.
He is powerful.
But so are we.