James Luceno - Darth Plagueis

“All the things you’ve done and can still do.”

“What would you do?”

“Everything,” Palpatine said.

They got up from the bench and began to amble back toward the university complex. Plagueis submerged himself deeply in the Force to study Palpatine, but he was unable to glean very much. Humans were difficult to read in the easiest of cases, and Palpatine’s mind was awash in conflict. So much going on in that small brain , Plagueis told himself. So much emotional current and self-interest. So unlike the predictable, focused intellects of the Outer Rim sentients, especially the hive-minded among them.

Palpatine stopped alongside a brightly colored, triple-finned landspeeder with a pointed nose and a repulsorlift engine that looked powerful enough to raise a loadlifter droid.

“This vehicle is yours?” Plagueis asked.

Pride shone in Palpatine’s eyes. “A prototype patrol-grade Flash. I race competitively.” “Do you win?”

“Why else would I bother racing?” Climbing into the speeder, Palpatine centered himself at the controls.

“I have just the thing to adorn your rearview mirror,” Plagueis said. From his breast pocket he fished a coin of pure aurodium dangling from a length of chain, and dropped it into the palm of Palpatine’s hand. “It’s an antique.” The young human appraised the gift. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” “It’s yours.”

Palpatine showed him a questioning look.

“Who knows, perhaps you’ll go into banking one day,” Plagueis said.

Palpatine laughed in a relaxed way. “Unlikely, Magister Damask.” “I suppose there are better ways to earn credits.”

Palpatine shook his head. “Credits don’t interest me.”

“I’m beginning to wonder just what does.”

Palpatine bit back whatever he was about to say.

“Palpatine, I wonder how you would feel about working with us — Damask Holdings, I mean.” Palpatine’s thick eyebrows beetled. “In what capacity?”

“To be perfectly blunt, as a kind of spy.” He went on before Palpatine could speak. “I won’t say that you and I want the same things for Naboo, because clearly — and notwithstanding your feelings about the architecture — you hold your world dear. My group, however, is less interested in Naboo’s government than it is in Naboo’s plasma and what it will fetch on the open market.” Palpatine looked as if the plain truth was something new to him. “If you had phrased that any differently, I would have rejected your offer out of hand.” “Then you accept? You’re willing to update us regarding whatever political machinations your father’s group may have in the works?” “Only if I can report directly to you.”

Plagueis tried once more to see him in the Force. “Is that your wish?” Palpatine returned a sober nod. “It is.”

“Then by all means, you’ll report exclusively to me,” Plagueis said. “I’ll see to it that the necessary arrangements are made.” He stepped away from the speeder as Palpatine powered it up.

Palpatine fell silent for a moment. “I could take you for a ride tomorrow,” he said at last, above the whine of the engine. “If you have time, I mean. Show you some more of Theed and the outskirts.” “If I have your word you won’t go too fast.”

Palpatine smiled wickedly. “Only fast enough to keep it interesting.”

Flying a meter above the ground, Palpatine’s agile speeder skimmed over the plains below Theed plateau, leaving long curving trails in the tall grasses. The day was bright and clear, the warm air abuzz with insects and strewn with pollen.

“Exhilarating,” Plagueis said from the passenger-side bucket seat when Palpatine’s foot had eased off the accelerator.

“Maybe I’ll become a professional racer.”

“The Naboo might expect more of the eldest son of House Palpatine.”

“I ignore the expectations of others,” Palpatine said without looking at him.

“Was the speeder a gift from your father?”

Palpatine glanced at him. “A bribe — but one I accepted.”

“Does he approve of your racing?”

Palpatine made a harsh sound. “My father hasn’t ridden with me for years.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“It has nothing to do with my talents.” Palpatine turned slightly in the driver’s seat. “When I was younger I was responsible for the deaths of two pedestrians. At the time, my father threatened never to allow me to fly, but he eventually relented.”

“What made him change his mind?”

Palpatine swung forward. “I wore him down.”

“I’m sorry,” Plagueis said. “I didn’t know.”

Although, in fact, he did know. With help from 11-4D he had learned that Palpatine’s troubled past had seen him bounced from one private school to the next, following incidents of petty crime and offenses that would have landed a commoner in a correctional facility. Time and again his father, who shared with his son a penchant for violence, had used his influence to rescue Palpatine and avoid the specter of family scandals. To Plagueis, however, the youth’s transgressions were only further indication of his exceptionality. Here was a youth who had already risen above common morality and had judged himself unique enough to create an individual code of ethics.

Palpatine pointed to the distant tree line. “There are some ancient ruins in there, but that’s Gungan territory.”

“Have you had any dealings with them?”

“Personally, no. But I’ve seen the ones that come into Moenia to trade for goods.”

“What are your thoughts about them?”

“Aside from the fact that they are long-eared, slimy-tongued primitives?”

“Aside from that, yes.”

Palpatine shrugged. “I don’t mind them, so long as they keep to their submerged cities and waterways.”

“Not get in the way.”

“Exactly. Humans deserve to have the upper hand here.”

Plagueis could not restrain a smile. “There are many worlds in the galaxy where the matter of who has the upper hand, as it were, is in dispute.”

“That’s because most beings are afraid to take charge. Think what the Republic Senate might accomplish under the leadership of a strong being.”

“I have given thought to that, Palpatine.”

“What does the Senate do in response to each and every crisis? It dispatches the Jedi to restore order, and moves on without addressing the roots of the problem.”

Plagueis found the boy’s youthful ignorance entertaining. “The Jedi could rule the Republic if they wished,” he said after a moment. “I suppose we should be grateful that the Order is dedicated to peace.”

Palpatine shook his head. “I don’t view it like that. I think that the Jedi have dedicated themselves to limiting change. They wait for the Senate to tell them when and where to intervene, and what to fix, when in fact they could use the Force to impose their will on the entire galaxy, if they wanted. I’d have more respect for them if they did.”

“Do you grant your father respect when he attempts to impose his will on you?”

Palpatine’s grip on the steering yoke tightened. “That’s different. The reason I don’t respect him is because he’s not half as intelligent as he thinks he is. If he could admit to his weaknesses, I could at least pity him.”

Bringing the speeder to a sudden halt, he turned toward Plagueis once more, his face flushed with anger. Between them, dangling from the rearview mirror, was the coin Plagueis had given him.

Before long, I will own this human , Plagueis told himself.

“House Palpatine is wealthy,” the youth went on, “but not nearly as wealthy as some of the other houses, and not nearly as influential with the King and the electorate, despite my father’s attempts to take a leadership position with the royals. He lacks the political acumen needed to elevate our House to a position of true entitlement, and along with it the awareness to recognize that the time has come for Naboo to exploit its matchless resources and join the modern galaxy. Instead, he and his cronies, in complete and utter political ineptitude, want to keep us caged in the past.”