James Luceno - Darth Plagueis

“Does your mother share his views?”

Palpatine forced a laugh. “Only because she espouses no views of her own; only because he has made her subservient to him — as he has my well-behaved brothers and sisters, who treat me like an interloper and yet, to my father, represent all I can never be.”

Plagueis considered the remarks in silence. “And yet you honor your House by going by its name.”

Palpatine’s expression softened. “For a time I thought about adopting the name of our distaff line. I haven’t rejected the dynasty I was born into. I’ve rejected the name I was given . But not for the grandiose reasons some think. Just the opposite, actually. I’m certain that you, of all beings, understand as much.”

There it was again, Plagueis thought: the deceptive cadence; the use of flattery, charm, and self-effacement as if rapier feints in a duel. The need to be seen as guileless, unassuming, empathetic. A youth with no desire to enter politics, and yet born for it.

Tenebrous had told him from the start that the Republic, with help from the Sith, would continue to descend into corruption and disorder, and that a time would come when it would have to rely on the strengths of an enlightened leader, capable of saving the lesser masses from being ruled by their unruly passions, jealousies, and desires. In the face of a common enemy, real or manufactured, they would set aside all their differences and embrace the leadership of anyone who promised a brighter future. Could this Palpatine, with Plagueis’s help, be the one to bring about such a transformation?

Again he tried to see deeper into Palpatine, but without success. The psychic walls the youth had raised were impenetrable, which made the young human something rare indeed. Had Palpatine somehow learned to corral the Force within himself, as Plagueis had concealed his own powers as a youth?

“Of course I understand,” he said finally.

“But … when you were young, did you question your motivations, especially when they ran counter to everyone else’s?”

Plagueis held his challenging gaze. “I never asked why this or why that, what if this or what if that. I simply responded to my own determination.”

Palpatine sat back in the speeder seat as if a great weight had been lifted from him.

“Some of us are required to do what others cannot,” Plagueis added in a conspiratorial way.

Without a word, Palpatine nodded.

Plagueis had no need to delve any further into whatever traumas had given rise to Palpatine’s cunning, secretive nature. He simply needed to know: Does this young human have the Force ?

Two standard days later, on Malastare — a world of varied terrain that occupied a prime position on the Hydian Way — even the deafening clatter and nauseating odor of speeding Podracers wasn’t enough to distract Plagueis from thinking about Palpatine. Damask Holdings had requested a meeting with Senator Pax Teem, and the leader of the Gran Protectorate had provided the Muuns with box seats for the Phoebos Memorial Run. They had arrived directly from Naboo in the expectation of discussing business matters, but the Gran, Dugs, Xi Charrians, and nearly everyone else in the city of Pixelito were more interested in sport and betting.

“Have you picked a winner, Magister?” Pax Teem asked after two Podracers ripped past the viewing stands.

Lost in his thoughts about Naboo, Plagueis said, “I believe I have.”

His conversations with Palpatine seemed to have opened some sort of emotional floodgates in the human. The Muuns had scarcely left Naboo behind when the first of several holocommuniqués was received from Palpatine, regarding the royals’ latest plans for undermining Bon Tapalo’s bid for the monarchy. Plagueis had listened attentively, but, in fact, Palpatine had precious little to offer. Since the release of the information about the royals’ actions during the Gungan conflict, Palpatine’s father had been conducting his meetings behind closed doors at the family estate, and had forbidden his son from so much as discussing the coming election. Tapalo’s campaign, by contrast, was on the upswing, as a result of having announced a pending deal with the InterGalactic Banking Clan. The urgency of Palpatine’s transmissions suggested that he had formed an attachment to Plagueis and was reaching out to him not only as a secret employer but also as a potential adviser. In Hego Damask, Palpatine saw the wealth and power he had long sought for House Palpatine. Confident that the young human would continue to be useful long after Damask Holdings’ plans for Naboo had been realized, Plagueis did nothing to discourage the attachment.

“Why is it that we never see humans competing in the races?” he asked Teem after a moment.

The Gran waved his six-fingered hand in dismissal. “They haven’t the talent for it. The favorite to win today is the Dug at the controls of the blue racer.”

Plagueis tracked the Podracer for a moment. In the stands below him, thousands of Dugs — standing on all four appendages, on hind legs, or supported on arms only — were barking encouragement.

Plagueis found Malastare’s high gravity oppressive, and the Gran more so. They had arrived on the planet a thousand years earlier as colonists, and had proceeded to beat the native Dugs into submission. The protectorate had since grown to overshadow the Gran homeworld, Kinyen, and was a powerful force within the Republic Senate, with wide-ranging influence in the Mid and Outer Rims.

Seated alongside Plagueis, Larsh Hill leaned forward to address Pax Teem. “Perhaps Gardulla will be able to entice humans to pilot Podracers in the course she is refurbishing on Tatooine.”

Teem honked in irritation. “So it’s true: you support the Hutt.”

“It’s simply business,” Hill said.

But Teem was not appeased. “Is this the purpose of your visit — to reopen wounds that have not yet healed?”

“Yes,” Plagueis said flatly.

Teem’s trio of eyestalks swung to him. “I don’t—”

“Don’t compound the offense,” Hill interrupted.

Teem feigned incomprehension.

“From whom did you learn of our interests on Naboo?” Plagueis asked.

The Gran looked to his comrades, but found no support in their abrupt silence.

“From whom?” Plagueis repeated.

A low of resignation escaped Teem. “We were approached by Subtext Mining, following the unexplained disappearance of some of its members — the ones I encountered on Sojourn, I suspect.”

“They were in fine health when they left the Gathering,” Hill said.

Teem nodded. “I’m certain they were.”

“Why did Subtext approach you?” Plagueis said.

Teem hesitated, then said, “To inform us that you are involved in a deal for the plasma.”

“Trusting that you would try to subvert our efforts by making them public,” Hill said.

The Gran snorted. “First you strike a deal with Gardulla that favors Tatooine over Malastare, and now Naboo’s plasma captures your attention, despite your offer to increase the cost of Malastare’s energy exports. So why shouldn’t we have alerted your opponents on Naboo, when you would have done the same?”

Plagueis waited for him to finish, and for a group of Podracers to pass; then he fixed his gaze on the assembled Gran. “You harm yourselves by attempting to sabotage us. The Protectorate could have profited from Naboo, as the Trade Federation will, but no longer.”

Pax Teem’s huge feet slapped the floor of the private box. “We refuse to be demeaned! Again I remind you, Magister, that promises were made.”

Plagueis smiled inwardly. It was true that Tenebrous had had plans for the Gran. At one time Pax Teem had been put forth as someone the Sith could move into the chancellorship and manipulate from a distance into making mistakes that would bring the Republic to its knees. But Plagueis had now begun to explore other options.