Space Marine in Star Wars

===Padmé===

After the three Astartes had departed for Mandalore, Padmé shifted her attention to the festivities her people were hosting to celebrate their newfound freedom. The Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn and Plo Koon, along with their new Padawan learners, Anakin and Nira, would be in attendance, as both their mothers were to be laid to rest here in the palace. The newly elected Supreme Chancellor, Palpatine, would also be present.

She had recently received a notification from Duchess Satine, informing her that an agreement had been reached with the Space Marines. In exchange for Beskar, they would destroy the Death Watch, a group that had plagued the Duchess since the Civil War. However, Padmé pushed the news aside, focusing instead on the preparations for the evening's celebrations.

The first to arrive were the Jedi and their Padawans. The two children appeared different—almost as if they had matured beyond their years. Given everything they had endured, it was no surprise.

Next, Palpatine arrived. The moment his ship landed and he descended the ramp, Padmé couldn't help but feel concerned for him. His face was gaunt, his cheeks hollow, and his hands trembled slightly. He tried to conceal his condition, but she saw right through him.

"Chancellor, my goodness, what's happened to you?" she asked, her eyes scanning his frail appearance as he descended the ramp of his ship.

Palpatine offered her a flickering smile, taking her hands in his own. Padmé almost recoiled at how cold his touch was.

"Nothing, my dear. Just the weight of my new office," he replied, his voice strained. "I might also be coming down with something." He glanced away, looking out across the city.

"I should visit more often. In the past few weeks, I've found myself longing to come and take in the sights," he said, offering her another smile.

"But enough about me. We have a celebration to attend to!"

Padmé smiled politely, though a flicker of concern remained in her eyes as she led Palpatine further into the palace. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about him, but she pushed the thought aside. The festivities had already begun, and she had a duty to her people.

===

Padmé retired to her room at the end of the night, the weight of the evening's events still lingering in her mind. As she crossed the threshold, she noticed one of her comms links blinking—a new message, though this one was flagged for secure lines only.

Curiosity mixed with unease as she activated the transmission. The moment the feed came to life, her stomach dropped.

The image on the screen was nothing short of horrifying.

It was a massacre, plain and simple. There was no other way to describe it.

The footage showed the towering figure of Sebastian, the Black Templar, holding a Jawa by both its arms. The creature's small, dark eyes were wide with terror before it was violently torn apart, its blood splattering across Sebastian's black armor. The Templar let out a deafening battle cry as he discarded the limp body, the screams of the unfortunate creature echoing in the background.

The rest of the footage was a blur of brutality, images of the Astartes and surprising the Death Watch moving through the lawless streets of Tatooine, their heavy footsteps crushing any resistance that dared rise against them. Men and women alike were slaughtered without mercy if they drew their weapons, their bodies left in the dirt as the Astartes cut down anyone who even remotely threatened them.

Padmé's chest tightened as she watched. Tatooine was a planet of criminals, a den of lawlessness. In truth, she had assumed that many of these people—those who had drawn weapons—were guilty of terrible things. But this... this was something else entirely. The coldness of it. The savagery. There was no honor in what she saw, no sense of justice.

The brutality of the scene overwhelmed her. She turned sharply to the side, her stomach lurching. With a single, gut-wrenching motion, she emptied the contents of her stomach. Her breaths came in shallow gasps as she wiped her mouth, trying to steady herself.

The footage kept playing in the background, the echoes of battle and death reverberating through the room. But Padmé couldn't watch anymore. This wasn't the kind of victory she had hoped for, the kind she had believed in. This was a nightmare.

With a trembling hand, Padmé turned off the comms feed and sat back in her seat, her mind reeling from the horrifying images she had just witnessed. The silence of the room felt suffocating, and despite her attempts to steady her breath, the unease lingered in her chest.

Before she could gather her thoughts, a maid entered the room, quickly rushing to her side with concern etched on her face.

"My Lady, are you well? Can I get you anything?" the maid asked, her voice soft and worried.

Padmé gently brushed the maid's fussing aside, offering a small, strained smile. "I need to sleep," she replied quietly, her tone betraying her exhaustion.

But as she lay down, closing her eyes, she knew the rest would elude her. The footage played over and over in her, the screams, the blood. She could still hear the battle cries, the crack of bones and ripping of flesh. She could still feel the weight of it pressing on her heart.

When the first rays of sunlight finally peeked through the curtains of her bedchamber, Padmé knew she wasn't ready to greet the day. Despite the morning light, there was an emptiness inside her, a darkness that had been awakened by the brutal reality she had witnessed. She remained in her bed, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the thought of what the galaxy would become if left unattended.

===Duchess Satine===

The Duchess watched in outrage as the three Astartes she had made a deal with tore through the cities of Tatooine, their wrath palpable as they swept through the streets with the Death Watch in tow. Her eyes narrowed with fury, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

Unable to contain her anger, Satine stormed to her study, her every step filled with purpose. She demanded a private communication with Queen Amidala.

When the call was finally established, the Duchess was prepared to lay into the Queen, to demand answers. But what she saw when the hologram flickered to life stopped her cold.

Padmé was seated in her private chamber, her expression hollow and drawn. It was clear she hadn't had a good night—her eyes were bloodshot, and there was a weariness to her posture that made Satine's heart tighten. This was not the composed, strong leader she was used to seeing.

"I…" Padmé began to speak, but before she could finish, the Duchess cut her off, her voice sharp and filled with frustration.

"I see they fooled us both," Satine said simply, her gaze unwavering.

Padmé looked up at the hologram, her expression a mixture of guilt and resolve. She had expected this, but it still stung to hear it from Satine.

"No. I knew exactly how brutal they were," Padmé admitted quietly, her voice strained. "I just turned a blind eye because they saved my planet."

Satine's eyes softened for a moment, though her anger still simmered beneath the surface. She took a seat, her hands clasped together as she considered her words carefully.

"I will not hold this transgression against you, Queen Amidala," she said after a pause. "But they were envoys from Naboo. You must do something, or I'm not sure how your Senate will look at you in the future."

Padmé felt the weight of Satine's words settle heavily on her shoulders. She had always prided herself on her sense of justice, her unwavering belief in doing what was right for the people. But this—this was different. The actions of the Astartes couldn't be ignored.

"I know," Padmé whispered, her voice thick with the burden of responsibility. "But what can I do now? The damage is done."

Satine met her gaze through the hologram, her expression one of both sympathy and resolve. "You know what must be done. Show your people that you will not stand by and let this kind of violence go unchecked, even if it means cutting ties with allies."

Padmé was silent for a long moment, her mind racing. The path ahead was unclear, fraught with difficult decisions and potential consequences. But deep down, she knew Satine was right. She could not turn a blind eye any longer.

"I will act," Padmé said finally, her voice steady, though tinged with uncertainty. "I will find a way to make this right."

Satine nodded, her expression softening just slightly. "I will stand with you, Queen Amidala. But be careful. The galaxy is watching."

As the call ended, Padmé remained in her chamber, lost in thought. The reality of the situation was sinking in, and the weight of her duty pressed down on her like never before. There was no turning back now.

===Palpatine===

As Palpatine watched the recording he had come into possession of, a small smile crept onto his lips. The footage of the Astartes' brutal campaign on Tatooine played before him, and though the violence was disturbing, it pleased him. His new Master, Kharath, had orchestrated the entire thing, intending to isolate the Astartes before making his own move to deal with them.

"I care little for the machinations of the Astartes," Kharath said, his voice a deep, rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate the very air around him. The towering figure of the Chaos Lord, seated on his obsidian throne high in one of Coruscant's towers, turned to address the remaining Chaos Sorcerer under his command.

"I leave this matter to you. Three Astartes shouldn't be an issue for someone of your power," Kharath had added dismissively, his expression one of contempt for the Astartes' pitiful might.

Palpatine, standing at a respectful distance, had bowed his head slightly before speaking.

"I have plans that might be of use to him. If you will permit it." His voice was measured, careful to mask any hint of impatience or ambition.

Kharath's voice, though cold, seemed almost amused. "I don't care what you do, as long as you keep up with your studies." His dark gaze flickered over the galaxy map in front of him, a flicker of something ancient and malignant in his eyes.

Palpatine, ever calculating, stepped back into the shadows, his mind already working on the next move. He knew that his position in Kharath's shadow was precarious, yet his ambition burned as fiercely as ever. He couldn't afford to be careless, not with the power he craved so desperately.

But as he stood there, observing his Master, he was suddenly struck by a sharp command.

"Tell me what you have learned."

The Chaos Astartes' tone was imperious, demanding, and for a brief moment, Palpatine's thoughts darkened. The thought of explaining himself to this fool, this brutish creature who couldn't even begin to comprehend the subtleties of Sith manipulation, filled him with seething contempt. He wished for a moment that he could teach this kreeten—.

The pain came—sharp, sudden, blinding.

A blast of energy exploded from Kharath's hand, and Palpatine was thrown off his feet, crashing violently to the ground. His vision blurred for a moment, his breath stolen by the force of the impact.

"You would do well to remember your station, and watch your surface thoughts around me, welp," Kharath's voice boomed, a low, thunderous rumble that seemed to echo off the walls. The Chaos Lord's presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and Palpatine struggled to regain his bearings.

Before he could even attempt to rise, Kharath's boot came down on his hand, pressing with such force that Palpatine felt his bones grind and snap. He let out a strangled cry of pain, his body twisting in agony as the pressure mounted.

Chaos lightning crackled and danced around Kharath's right hand, sizzling with malicious energy as he looked down on his fallen disciple.

Palpatine gritted his teeth, the pain excruciating, but he dared not beg or show weakness. He had learned the hard way that power in the presence of Kharath was something to be seized with cunning, not with the desperation of a dog.

"Get up," Kharath growled, his voice dripping with malice.

Palpatine, struggling against the crushing pain, slowly pulled himself to his feet, his movements stiff and pained. He forced himself to meet Kharath's cold, calculating gaze, even as his hand throbbed with the remnants of the agony.

"I have learned much of this... Warp you speak of," Palpatine began, his voice steady despite the lingering discomfort. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not now. "It seeps into our galaxy from three tears in space. One above Naboo. One above Tatooine, and finally, the last above this planet, Coruscant."

Kharath's gaze sharpened, his interest piqued. The idea that the Warp had such influence over these significant points in the galaxy intrigued him.

"Tell me what else you have learned about the Warp. What of our God?" Kharath asked, his voice commanding, the Chaos lightning crackling around his fingers as if ready to strike at any moment.

Palpatine's heart beat steadily as he answered. The name had come to him in fragments, whispered in the shadows of his studies, and now, standing before Kharath, it was time to speak it aloud.

"Tzeentch." The word rolled off his tongue, carrying a weight far heavier than he expected. It was the name of the Chaos God he had started to study in secret, the one who manipulated change, the master of fate and sorcery.

For a long moment, there was only silence between them. Kharath regarded him with a look that was impossible to read, his eyes cold and calculating. Palpatine held his breath, knowing that in this moment, his survival depended on how Kharath responded to his revelation.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kharath finally spoke, his voice low and menacing. "Tzeentch, yes... The Changer of Ways. He is the chaos god of knowledge and manipulation, the architect of the future. Do you understand what that means, little Sith?"

Palpatine swallowed, forcing himself to remain calm, to maintain control over his emotions. He had learned enough to know that Tzeentch was not simply a god of magic; he was a god of endless possibility, of plotting and scheming, a patron of those who sought to bend fate itself to their will. Palpatine had felt the god's influence in the darkness, pushing him toward his own path of power, guiding his hand.

"I understand," Palpatine said, though his voice held a depth of reverence, a subtle recognition of the sheer power that Tzeentch wielded. "The Warp is a force that can shape everything, can alter the future, control destiny itself. And I... I intend to use it. To control it."

Kharath's nonexistent lips curled into a twisted smile, a smile that seemed almost approving. "Yes. You are beginning to understand, Sith. The power of the Warp is not to be feared, but to be mastered. Your place in the galaxy will be secured not by armies or titles, but by your ability to manipulate the threads of fate itself."

Palpatine's mind raced with the possibilities. With Tzeentch's power, there would be no limit to what he could achieve. The galaxy, his future, and his ambition all hinged on his ability to control this force. The Sith Lord's desire for power, for control over the fates of billions, had always burned within him, but now, with the guidance of Chaos, that power could be realized in ways he never imagined.

"I will master it," Palpatine said, his voice resolute, filled with the promise of his own ascension. "I will become the master of the Warp. I will reshape the galaxy itself."

Kharath leaned forward slightly, his eyes glowing with a dark, unspoken approval. "Good. Remember this, little Sith: The power you seek is not without cost. It demands sacrifices, and it will test you in ways you cannot yet fathom. But in the end, it will be yours... if you are worthy."

Palpatine nodded, his thoughts already focused on the future, on the path that would lead him to unimaginable power. His studies of the Warp, of Tzeentch, and of the dark forces at his disposal were only just beginning. And as he stood there before Kharath, he knew that this was just the first step in his journey toward becoming the true ruler of the galaxy.

===

If you enjoyed this chapter, maybe consider leaving me with a couple of your power stones? I promise I'll take good care of them:)