James Luceno - Darth Plagueis

“Rest easy in your grave, Plagueis. In the end, I will be proclaimed Emperor. The Sith will have had their revenge, and I will rule the galaxy.”

Plagueis slid to the floor and rolled facedown. Death rattled his lungs and he died.

OneOne-FourDee started to approach, but Sidious motioned for it to stop.

“We’re going to have to find you a new home and a new body, droid.”

OneOne-FourDee looked once at the Muun, then at Sidious. “Yes, Master Palpatine.”

Sidious moved to the window, then turned to regard the murder scene. Hego Damask would appear to have died because of a malfunction of the breathing apparatus. He would have the droid alert the medtechs. But no autopsy would be performed, and no inquest would follow. Holos of their appearance at the Galaxies Opera would run on the HoloNet, and pundits would weigh in. Senator Palpatine might garner even greater sympathy; his delight in being elected to the chancellorship diminished by the sudden death of a powerful financial ally.

Sidious moved back into the room to take a closer look at Plagueis. Then, after a long moment, he returned to the window and pulled the drapes aside.

His spirit soared, but briefly.

Something was shading his sense of triumph: a vague awareness of a power greater than himself. Was it Plagueis reaching out from the far side of death to vex him? Or was the feeling a mere consequence of apotheosis?

Outside, the summits of the tallest buildings were gilded by the first rays of daylight.

Palpatine’s election to the chancellorship dominated the HoloNet. It was far from a landslide victory, but he won by a wider margin than even the oddsmakers had predicted, due in part to the unexplained absence of several of his key opponents. With two Supreme Court judges and Vice Chancellor Mas Amedda presiding, he took the oath of office atop the Senate Podium, after Valorum had shaken his hand and disappeared down the turbolift that led to the preparation room far below. In his address he pledged to return the Republic to its former glory and to purge the Senate of corrupt practices. No one paid much attention, since every Supreme Chancellor for the past two hundred years had made the same promises.

Pundits, however, were quick to weigh in on what the election might mean for the immediate future. The fact that Naboo had managed to defeat the Trade Federation without the aid of mercenaries or Republic intervention had many beings wondering whether planets might follow Naboo in establishing their own militaries and challenging the power of the galactic consortiums. How might the events of Naboo shape the new Supreme Chancellor’s policies toward the Corporate Alliance and other cartels? Would legislation regarding taxation of the free-trade zones and the legality of droid armies be reexamined? Would harsher enforcement lead eventually to the cartels’ secession from the Republic? And might entire systems end up joining the exodus?

With so much attention being focused on the election, stories that might otherwise have been viewed as significant escaped notice. One such story was the unexpected death of reclusive Muun financier Hego Damask. Hastily prepared obituaries contained the few facts about his life that were public knowledge but scarcely touched on the behind-the-scenes role he had played in shaping the history of the Republic. Members of the InterGalactic Banking Clan were refusing to release any information about the funeral or about the disposition of Damask’s substantial holdings on Muunilinst and dozens of other worlds. Off the record, beings remarked that the intricacies of the Muun’s business concerns might take decades to unravel.

With the Battle of Naboo concluded— lost , in his estimation — Palpatine had no time to bask in adulation or celebrate his win. His first order of business, indeed his first official duty, was to travel to his homeworld to congratulate Queen Amidala and her new allies, the Gungans, on their surprise victory.

It wasn’t until he arrived in Theed and learned of Darth Maul’s defeat at the hands of the Jedi in a power-generator station that he understood in part the reason for the sense of loss and profound solitude he had experienced following the murder of Plagueis. He could have pressed one of the other Jedi who had arrived on Naboo for information as to how Maul had managed to kill a master sword fighter only to be overcome by a lesser one, but he didn’t want to know, and as a result be able to imagine the contest. Still, it gave him great pleasure to stand among Yoda, Mace Windu, and other Masters and watch Qui-Gon Jinn’s body reduced to ash, knowing that the Jedi was just the first casualty in a war that had been declared but not yet begun; one in which ten thousand Jedi would follow Qui-Gon to the grave …

That Plagueis’s death and Maul’s defeat had occurred in relative simultaneity could only have been the will of the dark side of the Force, as was the fact that, until such time as he took and trained a new apprentice, Palpatine was now the galaxy’s sole Sith Lord.

Disappointment also attended the fact that the droid army of the Trade Federation had been so easily vanquished by a handful of Naboo and an army of primitives. But Anakin Skywalker was the larger issue. No one could argue that he had shown remarkable courage and Force ability in destroying the Trade Federation’s Droid Control Ship.

As Plagueis had said: Already his actions begin to echo across the stars .

“What is this place?” Dooku asked after Palpatine had welcomed him into the LiMerge Building.

“An old factory. It was owned by Hego Damask, but he deeded it to me before he died.”

Dooku’s brow wrinkled. “For what purpose?”

“He thought I might have some use for it in jump-starting a plan of urban revitalization.”

Back on Coruscant for a little over a month, Palpatine was wearing a cowled cloak closed at the neck by a Sith clasp, ostensibly as protection against acid-laden rain that was falling in The Works. Dooku was dressed as a civilian, in tight-fitting trousers and a smart cape.

The former Jedi regarded the factory’s enormous main room. “No Senate Guards?”

“They’re within comm range should I need them.”

“I would have thought you at least wanted me to see your new office,” Dooku said, brushing beads of water from his shoulder. “Then I recalled what you said last time we spoke, about our not being seen together in public.”

Palpatine waved negligently. “The office is temporary. One more suited to the position is already in the planning stages.”

Side by side, they began to walk through the room. “So you’ve hooked them already,” Dooku said.

Palpatine feigned a look of innocence. “Not at all. The Appropriations Committee approached me with the idea of constructing a dome near the Senate Building that will also serve as a docking facility.”

“You appear to be very pleased with the idea.”

“Most pleased.”

Dooku stopped to study him. “Your truer nature begins to reveal itself, I think.” When Palpatine made no response, he added, “Congratulations, by the way, on Naboo’s defeat of the Trade Federation. An odd series of events, wouldn’t you agree?”

Palpatine nodded and resumed a measured pace. “Everyone involved — including me — underestimated the abilities of our Queen. It pained me to learn that Master Qui-Gon had been killed.” He paused momentarily. “Was it his death that firmed your decision to leave the Order?”

“To a degree,” Dooku said, scowling. “I’ve learned recently that another of my Padawans — Komari Vosa — is alive.”

“I hope that’s some consolation,” Palpatine started to say.

“It isn’t, as she is said to be leading the Bando Gora.” Dooku looked at him. “She could be a danger to the Republic, Supreme Chancellor.”