The Unabridged Memoirs of Darth Plagueis the Wise [Star Wars AU]

[YeahOkayCool]

Prologue: From the Jaws of Victory

​

"A being trained in the killing arts doesn't wait for you to acquire him as a target, or establish him or herself as an opponent, as if in some martial arts contest. Your reactions must be instantaneous and nothing less than lethal, for you are a Sith Lord, and will be marked for death."

--Datafile #44328, Darth Plagueis' Holocron​

---

Penthouse level, Kaldani Spires Residential Apartments, Coruscant, 1 standard day following the Battle of Naboo

Coruscant was locked in darkness.

On one level, this was a completely banal statement--of course Coruscant was locked in darkness, dawn would not break for several hours now--but on another, deeper level, it was a statement that could set a chill deep into the heart of even the most stoic Jedi. Seen through the eyes of the Force, Coruscant was teetering on the rim of the event horizon of a supermassive black hole; a single purposeful nudge would send the entire world toppling into an abyss of despair and hate.

The entire planet was drowning in the dark side.

A testament to the workings of the Sith. Something of a minor masterpiece, really.

The current state of the galaxy was the culmination of centuries of planning. For a thousand years the Order of the Sith Lords had kept to the shadows, slowly building our strength and working to subvert the Republic and Jedi from within. Where the Sith of old wore armor, we wore cloaks. Where the ancient dark lords raised armies of dark-siders, we were only two. A master and an apprentice-- one to wield the dark side's power, the other to lust after it. Unlike the loathsome Jedi, whose egalitarian delusions pursued recruitment to absurd levels until they were but an army of peasants with lightsabers, we knew better than to spread ourselves too thin. The Force is not a fire to be passed from torch to torch until the horizon blazed with fire. It is a poison, which is diluted as it is spread among the unworthy. Within the two true Sith was concentrated the accumulated wisdom and power of a millennium of Sith lords before us. And our combined powers created a deadly venom indeed; one that in less than a standard day would be injected into the very heart of the failing Republic.

My apprentice, Darth Sidious, was on the verge or being elected Supreme Chancellor.

Through a combination of my financial pull and his own political wranglings, we had deftly manipulated the corrupt Senate and incompetent Jedi like a Codru-Ji virtuoso playing a vibro-fiddle. We had engineered a diplomatic crisis on his home planet of Naboo, forcing the moribund state into action and reaping the sweet rewards of gridlock. With the Senate in disarray, a call had gone out for a vote of no confidence in the current Chancellor, which led to a new Chancery election immediately. Given his "long and distinguished" career in the Senate and astonishing skill at playing the naiive provincial politician, Sidious soon found himself on the short-list of candidates. From there, it was a simple matter of drumming up support--which involved a rather enjoyable combination of bribes, threats, and subtle mind tricks.

It was all so childishly simple. The entire edifice was already rotted through with red tape and kickbacks; nothing but inertia was keeping the Republic functional at all. Two Sith lords with precision and skill were able to fatally compromise it with a mere nudge. By this time tomorrow, the Republic would be the effective property of the dark side. With Sidious as Chancellor and me advising him as "co-chancellor" (an absurd but sadly necessary euphemism), we would work side-by-side to usher in the final stages of the Grand Plan--and with it our long-overdue revenge against the Jedi.

And from there, eternity awaited.

After making the customary appearance at the Galaxies Opera and silently basking in the wary awe of our inferiors, Sidious and I retired to my penthouse at the Kaldani Spires. With the Senate to vote for a new Chancellor tomorrow morning and Sidious' victory all but assured, we both saw fit to have a subdued celebration of our own. I had given my guards the night off, which left us alone in the cavernous suite, enjoying some of the finest Sullustan red wine credits could buy.

Sidious leaned back in his chair and proposed a toast. "To the culmination of thirty years' brilliant planning, Lord Plagueis."

"And to the new meaning we shall soon give to the Rule of Two," I agreed with a smirk, visions of the burning Jedi Temple dancing in my head.

I drained my glass--the wine was dry and strong, with a slight musk to it--and signalled to my droid to refill it. 11-4D trundled over, two of his six manipulators gripping the opened bottle. Even though he was an advanced medical droid by design, his fine motor skills and advanced chemical sensor arrays made him a passable sommelier. Most importantly, he was unshakably loyal to me, and by extension to the Sith as a whole.

I let 11-4D fill my glass almost to the brim, then delicately tipped the glass up to my nose and letting the liquid run down the nasal passages into my throat. A close call with some assassins decades back had resulted in most of my lower jaw and neck being sliced away, forcing me to take in all nourishment through or around a transpiration mask. Irritating for a connoisseur of fine wines, but by no means an insurmountable problem.

Sidious continued pouring on the flattery. "None of this would have been possible without your incomparable intellect, Master," he gushed like a born politician. "Surely you will go down in galactic history as Darth Plagueis the Wise."

"I hope not, Lord Sidious, for I intend to be around to write my own history."

"Of course, Master," Sidious purred, taking a small sip of his wine. "I meant no disrespect. Why, it would hardly do to start off our new co-dominion with such misunderstandings! I will endeavor to live up to all your expectations and fulfill my role in our partnership to the best of my abilities."

I grunted through a noseful of wine, hardly listening. After two decades in almost total seclusion achieving true mastery over the midi-chlorians, I had forgotten how much humans liked to fill the air with unnecessary verbiage. A useful trait in a politician, but one I had little patience for, especially when neither of us needed to keep up any pretense with each other. "With your charisma and my knowledge, we shall have a partnership the likes of which no two Sith have ever had before."

I motioned for 11-4D to leave the bottle where I could reach it, then leaned forward. "I can feel it in the Force, Sidious. The portents are right, and victory will soon be at hand. The final stages of the Grand Plan are moving into position."

Sidious' eyes flashed a predatory yellow. "Our revenge will be glorious, Master."

"Indeed. We have permitted the Jedi to stumble in the darkness for too long. Soon they will be but a memory, and we two Sith shall rule forevermore."

"Are you truly that confident in the results of your experiments?"

"That I am. FourDee and I are on the verge of a breakthrough. Before long the midi-chlorians will have no secrets left to hide from me, and we shall have finally learned the impossible--a foolproof way to conquer death."

Sidious' face was unreadable. "How lovely for you."

"How lovely for us, Sidious," I insisted. "There will be no secrets between us. My successes are the successes of all the Sith, and benefit us both equally." I drained my glass and began idly pouring another. "Speaking of which, have you given any thought to your acceptance speech? Given the new precedent we are setting, this may make a large difference in the public's perception of it."

"I do have some remarks prepared," he said with a smile. "I wouldn't dare presume to spoil the surprise, but they are rather good, if I do say so myself."

I lifted my newly-refilled glass in a mock toast. "Spoil away, Chancellor Palpatine."

Sidious stood up, smoothing his dark blue robes. "To begin, I thought I would mention that while we in the Senate have managed to keep the Republic intact for a thousand years, we would never have been able to do so without the assistance of a few influential beings whose accomplishments behind the scenes have made the galaxy into what it is today. Furthermore, that it is high time for the accomplishments of one such being, my good friend Magister Hego Damask of Mygeeto, to be fully appreciated."

"Bah!" I smiled. "Transparent flattery. Not that I disapprove, of course. Do go on."

Sidious straightened slightly, raising his arms as if giving a benediction. "It was Hego Damask who was responsible for overseeing development of the Republic Reserve Administration, helping stabilize the galactic economy of the shocks that plagued the tenure of Chancellor Kalpana. Not to mention the work Damask has done to further galactic exploration. He has proven himself a Muun of incomparable foresight for providing such generous financial support for the Resettlement Acts. It was his generosity and far-sightedness that has enabled so many beings to blaze new hyperspace routes through the Outer Rim and Wild Space, opening up vast new venues for settlement and commerce."

"Impressive. Most impressive."

"Further," Sidious continued, "Magister Damask's peerless negotiating skills are what compelled the Trade Federation to--"

"Stop," I snapped. "Associating us in the public's mind with the Trade Federation would be a disaster."

"But Master, your brokering of agreements with the large conglomerates--"

"Can be mentioned using less politically-charged examples," I pointed out, taking a long quaff of wine. "At such a delicate juncture, we must avoid controversy. Mention my work with the Intergalactic Banking Clan or the Skakoans instead. The Trade Federation deal, I'm sure, will come out on its own, but not for some time."

Sidious looked sheepish, a rare thing for such a self-assured human. "Of course, Master. I don't know how I could have overlooked something so obvious. I must be more nervous than I assumed."

"Be mindful, Lord Sidious. A Sith does not fear his emotions, but he is always their master."

"Yes, of course." He took a deep breath, while I called for 11-4D to open a second bottle. "Well," he said with the air of a man about to do a large amount of unwanted cleaning, "now I'll most likely have to restructure my entire speech."

I adjusted myself to a more comfortable sitting position, motioning for Sidious to keep going.

And did he ever. Sidious picked over every turn of phrase for hours like a microsurgeon. He paced back and forth, vacillated between amusing anecdotes, and kept re-working the order and emphasis of his remarks. For the first few hours I gave him some feedback, but it was plainly clear that he was too nervous to listen. Everything sounded fine to me, but he kept re-working even perfectly innocuous sentences. It was all getting to be a bit much; all I had wanted to do was have a few drinks and celebrate our ascension to galactic power, and now it was looking like Sidious was going to keep himself up all night worrying. I had not slept in the last twenty years, so a lack of it would not leave me any worse for wear, but I did want to have all my faculties clear and sharp for tomorrow. But Sidious, the conspirator who would have the eyes of the galaxy on him the most, was also the one most likely setting himself up to be an exhausted wreck come morning. Was it really conceivable that Darth Sidious, a Sith lord with the power and control to hide from Jedi in plain sight, would be this rattled by the prospect of giving a simple speech?

I stared into the liquid ruby depths of my wineglass. Something tugged at my intuition, and in a flash a whisper from the dark side wound through my mind--

Sidious' election assured, no guards, the master being plied with his favorite wine...

It didn't exactly take the brains of a Bith to make the connection. In one crystal-clear snap of revelation, I knew that Sidious was going to try to kill me.

A surge of Force energy washed away my pleasant drunkenness and I suddenly sat in my chair fully alert. Sidious was still working on his speech and didn't seem to have noticed.

Good. The next part of this dance would be exceedingly delicate.

"Thass enough for now," I interrupted, giving my voice just enough of a slur to not arouse suspicion. "Go home, get at least some rest b'fore tomorrow."

"Just once more," Sidious insisted. "I've almost got it sorted out; I'll run through my remarks one more time and then I'll go."

I groaned, making sure to slump a little bit to one side, tipping a little wine onto the rancor-leather armrest for emphasis. "Again?"

"Master, you once said that all aspects of the Grand Plan required the utmost preparation. This speech is going to be the device that brings us both to power as equals;" (did his eyes tighten slightly at the word equals?) "should we not give it the same amount of care and planning we gave to, say, the blockade of Naboo?"

"Of course, Lord Sidious," I slurred. "Droid! Another bottle, if you please."

11-4D toddled over and filled both our glasses. Sidious set his on the table while I made a great bumbling show out of sending half the contents down my shirt before letting it tip out of my slackening hand. Then I slowly leaned back, let my eyelids droop, and feigned slipping off into a drunken snooze. Sinking deeply into the Force, I immersed myself in the unseen currents of the world. From there, I brought an illusionary Plagueis into being and let it assume my place sleeping in the chair. Cloaked deeply to avoid Sidious sensing what I had done, I maneuvered out of his way and watched.

For a few minutes Sidious just stood there, watching the false Plagueis for any signs of activity. When he finally moved, he did so with almost unbelievable speed. Arms blurring to near-invisibility, a wave of hatred rippled through the Force and erupted from Sidious' outstretched fingers in a blast of blue-white lightning. The gamboling electricity wrapped itself around the illusion-Plagueis' body, filling the plush penthouse with the scent of ozone. I controlled the false me like a marionette, snapping the eyes open, jerking and flailing it around, and making it howl like it was in agonizing pain.

All in all, I was quite impressed by it.

Sidious ended the flow of lightning as abruptly as it began, moving closer to the illusion-Plagueis that was now slowly writhing, grublike, and groaning in the chair. A sneer crept across his face like a morning frost over transparisteel. "You pathetic, doddering old fool. Did you really think I was going to share power with you?"

He loosed another blast of lightning for emphasis. "You abandoned the Grand Plan for decades, puttering away in your laboratory while leaving me, your so-called equal, as a glorified messenger! What, did you really think you could placate me with all your talk about rising above the Rule of Two? Were you really such a fool at the end that you thought you were an exception to the nature of the dark side? There are no exceptions to the truth, Plagueis. As a scientist you should have known that. And as a teacher you should have known what happens when the student has no use for him any longer."

Another eruption of lightning, and the monologue continued. Sidious really did like to carry on. "Never, not for a minute, did I ever intend to share power with you." He was gloating now, yellow eyes shining like a feral beast lurking at the edge of the campfire. "I merely kept silent while I sat learning at your feet. I needed your secrets, to be sure, but what in the world made you think I needed you once that was through? Vanity? Trust? Perhaps even some misplaced affection? Pathetic."

Sidious pumped another blast of lightning into the illusion. "Plagueis the Wise," he sneered. "So wise that he actually thought two Sith could trust each other! If I weren't having so much fun right now, I might even be moved to pity your delusions." The Sith apprentice moved in even closer, cocked his foot back, and delivered a Force-powered kick aimed directly at the illusory Plagueis' ribs--

Only to have his foot pass right through the mirage and glance off the chair itself.

Momentarily off-balance, Sidious whirled backwards, cloak flapping in the static-charged air. He was fast, but not quite as fast as I. Letting go of the illusion, I gathered all my anger and thrust it outward with the force like an iron fist, seizing Sidious' heart and crushing it. His furious snarl suddenly fell away as his pale face went slack with shock from the sudden pain grinding in his chest like a vicegrip.

I suspect it was at this moment that he suddenly realized how bad he'd been suckered.

Now it was my turn to gloat. "Oh, Sidious. You never did show much interest in learning about Force illusions. Perhaps you should have spent less time rehearsing your monologue and more time practicing. Now, I'm afraid, it's too late." I fastened my Force grip tighter around his heart. By now the organ was unable to pump blood at all, muscles desperately twitching and fluttering. If he had been born a Muun, one of his other two hearts would have picked up the slack and he might have been able to resist. But alas, evolution had a sense of humor when shaping the human species. Sidious' legs buckled and he collapsed to his knees. He snarled up at me, struggling for breath as his face started to take on a bluish cast.

Clenching my fist tighter, I looked down at him. "And to think I really did trust you, after a fashion. I assumed that you would be a genuine co-conspirator, a partner rather than just an apprentice. I can see now that you would never be satisfied with that. If not here and now, then this reckoning would just have come later. Don't worry, your death will be far more quick and merciful than what you attempted to inflict on me." I tightened the Force around Sidious' heart and through the Force I could feel the muscle walls split open like an Onderon bloodfruit. Sidious began to give out gasping cries of pain between his frantic gulps of air. A useless gesture; with his heart stopped, the oxygen could not transported through his body. Suffocating from the inside out, I could watch him through the eyes of the Force as his midi-chlorians began to wink out one at a time, like little lights deprived of electricity. A thundercloud of power gathered over Sidious' head, a roaring and raging but rapidly weakening storm that battered at my mind impotently.

I couldn't help but crack a smile. Beneath that fearsome facade was the same callow boy I'd recruited on Naboo all those decades ago--shameless, vicious, conniving, and utterly without pity or restraint. My taming of the young human had failed; if anything, by training him as a Sith I'd made him infinitely more dangerous. Darth Sidious would bring the entire Grand Plan to ruin if left unchecked.

This execution was no longer self-defense, or even revenge, it was a cleansing of the Sith Order.

Sidious weakly raised one arm and sent one last feeble bolt of lightning at me; I contemptuously parried it with my right hand. "You're a disgrace, Lord Sidious," I said, looking down at the dying figure slumped on the floor, blue and black robes puddling in the light. "Did you ever have any interest in the Sith, I wonder? You have no interest in weapons, or suggestion, or even the healing arts. You have no interest in upholding a legacy. No, to you the Sith are only a convenient way for you to amass power and rule. Nothing but your own grandeur matters to you; your conceptual world doesn't extend beyond your own skin. You're an animal at heart, Sidious, and animals need to be culled."

I knelt down and peered into his eyes. They were stained with yellow hate and turning glassy, but they still followed my hand. Sidious was still in there, but fading fast. "Know this as you head to your grave, my apprentice: your plan almost worked. I dare say if I'd kept drinking you would have carried off your plan very well indeed. I'm being truthful when I say that I applaud your attempt at deception--you have learned your Sith lessons well. But you made a grave mistake when you abused my trust and forgot that I made you. You are my creation, and I can destroy you whenever I wish it."

I stood up. "And whatever has been created can be re-created, given enough time. And time, my dear Sidious, is something I have in unlimited supply. There will be other apprentices. The Sith shall rule the galaxy unopposed forever, led by me. And that journey begins with your death."

Sidious' lungs let out one final rattling wheeze as his bilious yellow eyes rolled back into his head. He was gone.

11-4D started towards the body, but I waved him off. "He's already dead. Clean up this mess and alert the medtechs. In that order."

The medical droid looked down at the body, weighing my words against its first-aid programming. "At once, Magister Damask."

"Very good." I left 11-4D to its business and studied the statue of Yanjon the Sage in the corner. Senator Palpatine, a man in otherwise good health, would appear to have had a sudden, massive heart attack, likely brought on by stress. Understandable, the pundits would say, given the strain recent events on Naboo would place on any man, let alone a politician. By the time the medtechs arrived, the aged human would be beyond all hope of survival. However, the news would throw the Republic into turmoil. The front-runner for the Chancellorship, dying the night before he would have been sworn into office? I might be able to pull strings to avoid an autopsy, but there would almost certainly be an investigation into what happened here tonight. As the last being to see Palpatine alive, the investigation would home in on me first. The next few weeks would have to be handled with the utmost delicacy. The Sith would survive, but there was no doubt that the Grand Plan had suffered a major setback, possibly the worst in centuries. The only way this could have been worse is if Sidious had succeeded in killing me.

How many assassination attempts had it been now? Three? Four? It mattered little; I would outlive them all.

I sighed and poured a new glass of wine. Somehow I sensed it would be a long time indeed before I next had anything to celebrate.​

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NOTES: As you can see, this TL is basically examining what would have happened in the Star Wars galaxy if Darth Plagueis had survived Palpatine's attempt to kill him. This first part, since it deals with the actual circumstances of Plagueis' death in Legends, takes a lot of inspiration from James Luceno's Darth Plagueis novel, especially the dialogue. This is purely because I like Luceno's take on the event, and think that it serves as a good jumping-off point for the rest of the story. I'm going to try to have one to three updates per week, at least until SV catches up to where the story's gotten to on AH.com.​

 

[Moxas]

Watching, I'm sure this will be very enjoyable

 

[Finagle007]

Always in motion, the future is. This will prove most interesting...

 

[YeahOkayCool]

My first "hug" response! Thank you, kind stranger!

This is my first time posting a long work here, and I have a lot of stuff to port over. Lots of ground to cover. Can any veteran SV-ers give me an idea of what sort of intervals between updates would be appropriate? Would one update a day until you get caught up with the AH.com crowd be too fast?

 

[Moxas]

My first "hug" response! Thank you, kind stranger!

This is my first time posting a long work here, and I have a lot of stuff to port over. Lots of ground to cover. Can any veteran SV-ers give me an idea of what sort of intervals between updates would be appropriate? Would one update a day until you get caught up with the AH.com crowd be too fast?

Click to shrink...

AHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHA. The updates will never be enough.

 

[YeahOkayCool]

Chapter 1: A Matter of Perspective


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BREAKING NEWS: CHANCELLOR-ELECT DISCOVERED DEAD, HEART TROUBLE SUSPECTED

FOBOSI DISTRICT-- Chancellor-elect Cosinga Palpatine Jr. has died of a suspected cardiopulmonary event. Fobosi emergency medical teams responded to a distress call at the Kaldani Spires building late last night. They arrived to find Palpatine collapsed on the floor, unconscious with no pulse. The chancellor-elect was rushed to Kalpana Memorial Hospital for emergency treatment, but was pronounced dead on arrival. Doctors have listed the cause of death as a severe heart attack, possibly brought on by stress and alcohol consumption.

Palpatine was born in 918 Post-Ruusan to the aristocratic House Palpatine of Naboo. Known by his peers to be very bright and astute for his age, he attended Theed University and enrolled in the Naboo Legislative Youth Program as part of his planet's custom of mandatory civil service. While left orphaned at a young age, Palpatine threw himself into his vocation, electing to stay in public service and, after five years in the Apprentice Legislator Program, becoming Royal Ambassador of Naboo in 936. He replaced Senator Vidar Kim as the Chommel Sector's representative to the Galactic Senate in 948, a post at which he served with quiet distinction until his death. He is survived by no family.

As per tradition, Chancellor-Elect Palpatine's remains will be returned to Naboo for cremation. Friends and colleagues will be received at Theed City Municipal Temple until the time of the service at noon local time, with Hierophant Yaron Bibble officiating. Cremation will follow the service at Theed Palace, followed by the scattering of the ashes in the Solleu River. A small reception will be provided afterward. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Galactic Heart Disease Society.

--HoloNet News Special Edition, Year 968 Post-Ruusan​

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Theed City Municipal Temple, 1 standard week following Battle of Naboo

I have never seen much point in funerals.

There is nothing mystical about life at all. Like a lode of metal or a pocket of tibanna gas, it is simply a resource to exploit. It is unique in that those who possess it find it priceless beyond imagining; and yet in the aggregate, we see that the galaxy is so teeming with life that any individual being's life simply must be worthless. Machines require resources to construct, but any animal can create another of its kind. Billions of beings die every moment in this galaxy, and none of it means any more than the chaotic buzz of electrons around an atom. Only through communion with the dark side can even a small fraction of beings--a mere handful through all recorded history--be truly said to matter. Only thirty in a millennium had been worthy of the Order of the Sith Lords, the select few in each generation who aligned the Force with their will rather than letting the Force carry them.

And now, thanks to the late and unlamented Darth Sidious, there was only one.

Sidious was a reminder that for all our power, the Sith were not infallible. I'd known from the beginning that his taming would need to be cautious indeed, but somewhere along the way I had failed. Rather than treat him as an accomplice, I had gone into reclusion, leaving him to coordinate the final stages of the Grand Plan on his own while I learned how to bend the midi-chlorians to my will. It was obvious in hindsight that I had never fully broken him. His resentment and ambition had been stoked too much and too quickly. Ambition was a cornerstone of the Sith, of course. Countless Dark Lords before me had raised an apprentice to maturity, all the while knowing full well that when the time was right their apprentice would strike them down and take their place. I dare say that many of them were quietly proud that the Sith Order would remain in the hands of the truly ruthless.

Killing your master was the final test of every Sith apprentice. But attempting to kill you master and failing--

That was a sign of a failed master.

As I stood in the assembled crowd watching Darth Sidious' body burn on its pyre, my thoughts were circling me like angry ghosts. How many Sith Lords throughout history had raised apprentices, only to have them fail in their final test? Had something similar once happened to Darth Tenebrous, my old master? I wondered quietly what Tenebrous would have said if he could see me. You are a fool, Plagueis. When I was in your position I had trained two apprentices to parity without either of you knowing about the other, and you cannot even train one? Had you been a more attentive master, perhaps you and the human would be Co-Chancellors of the Republic at this very moment. Your childish fear of death has put the Sith in yet more jeopardy. That seems to be all you're capable of, is it not? First Bal'Demnic, now Sidious-- your every choice brings the Grand Plan to the brink of disaster.

No. A wave-front of anger rippled up my spine and burned away my doubt. A mason, even a master builder, cannot work with flawed stone. Sidious had been flawed to the core. Had I not outsmarted him in Kaldani Spires, the inevitable confrontation would only have been delayed a time. I would have eventually drawn Sidious' ire and envy like a magnet draws in iron shavings. His death had been the will of the dark side. Another apprentice would reveal themselves when the time came.

In fact, that was one of the only reasons I had bothered to attend Sidious' funeral at all. Aside from an admittedly petty desire to watch the fool's mortal shell be reduced to ash, one of his missives on the Coruscanti high life had alerted me to a certain Jedi Master of our mutual acquaintance. It would require extreme care, but I might be able to use this Jedi to salvage something from this debacle. I took note of him standing aloof at the far end of the crowd and focused on seeing him through the eyes of the Force. While the human was outwardly calm, his presence in the Force was like a looming blizzard. There was a dangerous darkness about him indeed. I smiled behind my breather mask. Whenever the Force closes a door, it opens a window.

After the ceremonial scattering of Sidious's ashes in the Solleu River, the funerary party moved over to a large pavilion in Theed Palace bedecked in black banners like thick jungle vines. Most of the party--Senators, ambassadors, and other Coruscanti vermin--flocked to the refreshments, eager to trade platitudes now and favors later, when the small contingent of Jedi present were out of earshot. My target was not among either group, though. He stood by himself, silhouetted in a window that offered a commanding view of the grassy plains below the city. I made no effort to conceal my approach, and he turned to face me.

"Master Dooku," I said, stopping some ways behind the Jedi. "I thought I had spotted you earlier. I hadn't expected to see you among the contingent here."

Dooku's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Nor I you, Magister Damask," he said in a smooth baritone. "My apologies. The events of the last few days have been... trying."

"I quite agree. To have the Chancellor-Elect die the night before getting sworn into office, and before learning about his own homeworld's liberation on top of it all..." I spread my hands. "Forgive me, Master Jedi, but I need no precognitive abilities to sense that dark times are ahead for the Republic."

"Quite."

"Palpatine was a rare individual indeed--a politician as well as a modest man. I'm confident that in all he did, he truly wanted what was best for the Republic."

Dooku said nothing, but continued looking out over the plains, hands folded behind his back. Perhaps I sounded dishonest-- after all, to Dooku I was merely another lobbyist; a political ally of Palpatine's but nothing more.

"Senator Palpatine and I spoke regularly," I offered. "He mentioned that you had become his...confidant of sorts."

The Jedi looked at me imperiously. "Nothing so secretive. We merely met on occasion to hold frank conversations about the state of the galaxy. The Senator was a refreshingly forthright man."

I nodded, smirking on the inside. "That he was. And what sort of conclusions did you reach about the galaxy in its current state, if I may ask?"

"We both agreed that the Republic, for all the potential it once had, is in shambles." Dooku said, still looking out the window. "We seem unable to solve crises anymore without more Jedi dying."

A light wind rustled the black curtains, bringing a slight whiff of carbon scoring to my nose. A week after the Naboo resistance fighters had recaptured the palace from the Trade Federation, and subtle echos of the fighting lingered everywhere. Anger and despair radiated from the opulent hall like a convection oven. I was sure Dooku could sense it as well, and that it was preying on his mind. The Republic and Jedi of centuries past might have been able to resolve the crisis with the Trade Federation peacefully, but thanks to the tireless work of generations of Sith Lords, the galactic balance was tipping back into darkness.

The pendulum had swung far enough into the light, and now it was swinging headlong back into the the shadows.

"Muuns live almost twice as long as your species," I said. "I can remember the old days, back when Damask Holdings was still in its infancy. The Jedi of a century past were decisive. They acted quickly in defense of justice, and were not afraid to go against the will of mere politicians if it meant serving the greater good. It must be disheartening to see the Republic rely on the Jedi for such trifles, and yet be so willing to throw their lives away." I snuck a glance at Dooku. He was fixated on something in the distance, stroking the pointed tip of his beard. This, evidently, was something he had been considering as well. The man was halfway into the dark side's grip already and he didn't even know it.

"You aren't telling me anything I haven't already been telling myself, Magister," Dooku said with a restrained sigh. "This Naboo debacle has forced me to confront the Order in a... a new light, let's say. The two Jedi knights Chancellor Valorum sent to negotiate with Gunray and the Federation leadership? They were my former Padawan and his apprentice. He died defending the palace hangar somewhere below us."

"I understand." An icy satisfaction filled my chest. Maul had finally killed a Jedi Master. The Zabrak had been imperfectly-trained animal, but ultimately effective nonetheless. "Death often never quite seems real until it impacts someone close to us."

Dooku's mouth pressed into a thin line. "A Jedi is supposed to avoid attachments to keep his mind clear. All life eventually passes back into the Force, which by its nature makes regret meaningless. Desiring to prolong one's lifespan beyond its natural end is selfish."

"I sense an and yet left unstated here, Master Jedi."

He took a deep breath. "And yet, when the Jedi Order refuses their responsibilities to the dead, suddenly one's attachment seems to be the only motivating force for justice."

I looked at Dooku oddly. "Whatever do you mean?"

"My former apprentice, Qui-Gon Jinn, was killed by a lightsaber. His apprentice eventually put down the murderer, but he swears to the Jedi Council that Qui-Gon's killer was trained in the Jedi arts. Some on the Council believe it was a Sith Lord."

"A Sith Lord? That's extremely hard to believe. As I recall, their cult was wiped out a thousand years ago." I was starting to enjoy this.

"Nevertheless, Master Windu and some of the others believe that this dark warrior was Sith," Dooku said. "I tend to believe them. Obi-Wan is a level-headed young knight, not prone to exaggeration. But many others on the Council believe that the Zabrak was merely a Dark Jedi, a failed apprentice working for the Trade Federation as a mercenary." His cold eyes flashed with anger. "So now, as far as the Council is concerned the matter ended with the killer's death."

"I take it you disagree."

Dooku's clipped tones became more insistent. "The Dark Lords of the Sith have wreaked untold chaos and destruction across the galaxy. If there is any possibility, however slight, that their order has survived, then hunting down the remaining Sith must become the Jedi's highest priority. But the Council, in their infinite wisdom, refuses to do anything. They refuse to acknowledge the threat. In fact, the Council has come very close to formally censuring me." Dooku turned back to look over the balcony. "Their complacency has become intolerable."

"My knowledge of Forceful matters is strictly second-hand," I lied, "but is there no way for you to let them see reason?"

His jaw set like a durasteel trap locking shut. "The only thing left to do is act, Magister Damask. I plan to resign from the order in protest. From there, I shall return to my native Serenno and claim my family title as count. If the council will refuse to investigate the possibility of the Sith having returned, then I will use my family fortune to do so-- without their approval."

Suddenly, in a sudden snap of dark insight like the ignition of a lightsaber, the beginnings of a plan came to me. As Darth Guile once said, the Sith must act as a malignant tumor in the body of the Republic. But, to extend the analogy, what about a tumor within the Jedi Order itself?...

It was risky, but the long term benefits would be the sweetest of ironies.

I cleared my ruined throat through the breathing mask. The next five minutes would have to be handled with the utmost subtlety.

"A close encounter with death is often a reminder to live," I said, turning away from Dooku slightly. "Twenty years ago, Maladian assassins ambushed me and my associates at a social gathering. A decapitation disk sliced off most of my neck and lower jaw. I survived, but only barely," I continued, tapping my breath mask for emphasis. "I was very, very lucky. The medtechs tried to convince me to retire, but the very idea is foreign to a Muun. But somehow I still sensed that I could never go back to Damask Holdings and resume my old life, as though I had not almost died. I began to reflect on my life. Then one day I had an epiphany. My entire career has been focused on ensuring that Damask Holdings, and by extension myself, profits. But how much richer would we all be in the long term if I put my resources towards solving galaxy-wide issues? My own investments and those of Damask Holdings will continue to accrue credits, but those credits will be re-invested into worthy causes throughout the Republic. But the only reason I can do this is because the world of finance falls within my bounds of expertise. I understand it. But this larger world of the Force I know nothing about. Likewise," I continued, "You are a Jedi Master. The mysteries of the Force are your purview-- by your nature you Jedi understand the Sith better than anyone else alive. Wouldn't leaving the Order for an aristocratic title be more of a hindrance in your investigation? Surely the wisdom of the Jedi Order will be of more use to you than mere credits."

Dooku raised an eyebrow. "You sound a great deal like the late Senator."

"Palpatine provided much of the impetus for the idea," I said, inwardly smirking at how true that was. "Despite your troubles with the Jedi as an organization, I have a strong feeling that they will be much needed in the coming years. It seems to me that a crisis like this is when the Jedi will need someone like you the most."

The Jedi Master said nothing for some time. Flocks of carrion birds wheeled in the clear blue sky over the plains, likely feasting on Gungan dead from last week's battle. Not for the first time I wondered how a being as strong in the dark side as Sidious had come from such a lush world.

When Dooku finally spoke, it was quiet and steady. "You are right, Magister. My duty is to the Republic and the Force, and if the Sith are to endanger that, then the galaxy will require Jedi Master Dooku much more than Count Dooku." He gave me a tired grin. "I seem to have misjudged you, Magister Damask. You possess a wisdom quite uncommon in your species. I respect Senator Palpatine all the more for bringing us together. You may have just saved me from a grave mistake."

Smiling behind my mask, I spread my hands. "Thank you, Master Jedi. I wish you the best of luck in the years to come. Incidentally, do let me know if you begin investigating into tracking down these possible Sith. I might be able to help in some small way."

I turned and walked back to the refreshment table, leaving the Jedi Master alone among the carrion birds.​

 

[Serious_Senator]

Excellent chapter. I'm digging the symbolism

 

[Redshirt Army]

Very interesting. I'm excited to see where this goes.

 

[YeahOkayCool]

Excellent chapter. I'm digging the symbolism

Click to shrink...

My favorite part of writing Force-sensitive characters is all the many, many opportunities to use overwrought metaphors to describe what it feels like to touch the Force. Matthew Stover is a huge influence on my writing style in this regard.

Very interesting. I'm excited to see where this goes.

Click to shrink...

You're in luck: I have 22 chapters and various assorted interludes to catch you all up on.

 

[Finagle007]

Darth Plagueis the Wise, indeed. Palpatine could never have come up with such a daring plan.

Incidentally @YeahOkayCool, Palpatine's first name is Sheev, not Cosinga.

 

[YeahOkayCool]

Darth Plagueis the Wise, indeed. Palpatine could never have come up with such a daring plan.

Incidentally @YeahOkayCool, Palpatine's first name is Sheev, not Cosinga.

Click to shrink...

Not in Legends-- the Sheev thing is purely a Disney Wars accretion, and thus I discard it entirely.

The Darth Plagueis novel states that Palpatine only goes by his surname out of distaste for the name his parents gave him. He also hates his father, Cosinga Palpatine, more than anyone else in the galaxy. So it's a pretty safe assumption that the reason he goes only by "Palpatine" is that he was named after his hated father. Thus, "Cosinga Palpatine Jr."

This is all headcanon, but I'm sticking with it. Maybe Sheev can be his middle name or something. Doesn't matter, since his "true name" is Darth Sidious, and anyway he's dead and staying that way.

 

[brer rabbit]

Not in Legends-- the Sheev thing is purely a Disney Wars accretion, and thus I discard it entirely.

Click to shrink...

No I think it comes straight from Lucas himself so it's canon to me and plus there's a deep meaning to his first name as Sheev is based upon Shiva the Hindu god of destruction.

 

[YeahOkayCool]

No I think it comes straight from Lucas himself so it's canon to me and plus there's a deep meaning to his first name as Sheev is based upon Shiva the Hindu god of destruction.

Click to shrink...

Look man, Comparative Religions was an elective at my university. I took Creative Writing instead.

I'm not gonna fight with anyone over this, since the narration refers to him almost exclusively as either "Palpatine" or "Sidious." Seriously, by the time this story's done you'll be able to count on one hand the number of times you read the name "Cosinga." Let's table it and move on.

 

[NuclearBird]

Oh God, yesss! I remember this one from AH.com
Glad to see it here.

 

[Max Uristwell]

Aw yiss, it's here.

 

[Temes1066]

*Steeples fingers*

Soon, we shall see the ruin of the jedi, as brought to us, by Darth Plagueis the Wise.

 

[Dark as Silver]

You're in luck: I have 22 chapters and various assorted interludes to catch you all up on.

Click to shrink...

If you could just post all of them now I'd be very appreciative.

 

[YeahOkayCool]

If you could just post all of them now I'd be very appreciative.

Click to shrink...

Aw man. I don't want to overwhelm everyone with 150K+ words all at once, but no point in dragging it all out, I guess. Any other takers?

 

[Skychan]

I like one a day. It gives me something nice to look forward to.

 

[Temes1066]

How about 3-5 chapters a day?

 

[YeahOkayCool]

I think 4 a day seems like a fair compromise. Speaking of which:

Chapter 2: Crowning His Anger


​

"The first step to controlling the midi-chlorians is to embrace your selfishness. Unlike the Jedi, we are not afraid to turn our minds inward and explore ourselves. A Jedi obsessively focuses his perceptions on understanding others, because every Jedi glows in the Force like a whitewashed tomb. They do not look within because they fear what they will find. We Sith do not fear ourselves, and we have no illusions. We embrace ourselves in all our aspects and eventually attain a full knowledge of ourselves. This is the key: if a being can entirely comprehend even the smallest grain of sand--really, truly understand everything about it--then they also entirely comprehend the universe in doing so. By attaining perfect self-knowledge we gain equally perfect world-knowledge. It is this knowledge of the universe which we turn back on itself to impose our wills on the midi-chlorians. It is a constant challenge. The Force tries to resist the callings of ravenous spirits; therefore it must be broken and made a beast of burden. It must be made to answer to one's will. This is our great project."

--Datafile #42119, Darth Plagueis' Holocron​

---

LiMerge Power Building, The Works, Coruscant, 2 standard months following Battle of Naboo

Unburdened from the macroscopic, I immersed myself in my own body.

Looking inward at my body's cells through the eyes of the Force, each cell thrummed with energy, lit up inside by glowing clusters of midi-chlorians. Every last one shone like a tiny star, channeling untold amounts of raw power directly from the Force, suffusing my body with gleaming light.

Not good enough.

I concentrated my mind like poison, gathering my entire mind and spirit under conscious control and honing it into an infinitely fine, incomprehensibly dense mass. I gathered my ego to myself, wrapping my will within it. I breathed in pure self, clenching down on my will and focusing until I could feel the spin of the entire galaxy around me.

I had become the center of the universe. All the power of the universe, forged by my will, gathered into the innermost core of my soul until the Force itself only existed to do my bidding.

And with this power I imposed myself on the midi-chlorians. Instantly I saw their light shift-- not get dimmer, but shift to accommodate my will, as though the Force energy was starlight seen through the gravitational lensing of a black hole. Light and life, filtered through a being so purely being, so unavoidably existent that it circled around again and became nothingness. Absolute, perfect nothingness. Darkness so powerful that not even the strongest light could stand to ignore it.

In the Force, I was a black hole at the center of the cosmos. What mere midi-chlorians could stand in my way?

The Force rippled ineffectually as all the midi-chlorians of the universe, connected through their universal will, attempted to push free, to escape the event horizon that was Plagueis. It mattered nought. I pulled them into myself and made them truly mine; instantly pure Force energy fountained out of every cell, rushing to infuse itself through the tissues of my mortal shell. The Force ate itself in reverse, endlessly excreting new life from itself--life that was rightfully mine as Dark Lord.

Flesh to Will, Will to Force, Force to Cosmos, Cosmos to Flesh once more.

Ouroboros.

Expanding back into myself, I snapped out of my meditations. The distant glow of Coruscant's setting sun shone red and gold through the choking industrial smog of The Works, bars of it lancing through the slitted blinds. On a good day, the converted office I was in had a commanding view of the industrial decay plaguing this district of the city-planet. Back before LiMerge Power had gone bankrupt and Damask Holdings bought it up, this had been the office of the company's Coruscant manager, the corporate headquarters of all the squat abandoned factories that surrounded it. The citadel-shaped building was the tallest structure for miles, looming over the decaying infrastructure like the tower of a dark wizard in a children's story. I had begun to refurbish the building slightly, as befitting the head offices of the Hego Damask Foundation, but other than structural repairs and reconnecting the water and power, much of the facade would stay untouched.

The LiMerge Building was a fitting symbol for the Sith's self-imposed exile. Our order had always flourished hiding among decay. Not for nothing did the ancient Sith rule from the tomb-world of Korriban.

The Works also reminded me of the Grand Plan's purpose. The abandoned industrial plants, collapsing and riddled with vermin, were a testament to what happened to a so-called "civilization" whose leaders had no vision. Given a clear goal for the future, the means to enact it, and the ability to do so at any cost, a Sith regime could build wonders here.

Entropy had no place in the Darth Bane's vision. Chaos was for the ever-permissive Jedi. The Sith Lords would bring purpose to mundane existence.

The conquest of entropy lingering in my mind, I unfolded my legs and got up from my meditation mat. The nagging aches that plagued my knees were gone, and I felt a surge of new vitality buzzing in my nerves. I didn't need to take off my tunic to know that the patches of youthful skin covering my limbs and torso had expanded. My control over the midi-chlorians was becoming easier now, and the benefits of the ritual lasted an order of magnitude longer than they had a decade ago. With a ragged, triumphant smile creeping wide under my breath mask, I produced a hypo from a robe pocket and took a blood sample from the center of a particularly large youthful patch on my arm. I noted with some wonder that my meditations had healed even the track marks from the previous month's sample. I transferred the blood into a vial and popped them both into a biohazard stasis pod, for later delivery to 11-4D in the biolab that was slowly taking shape downstairs. The droid and I had been studying the samples for decades and by now the results were obvious, even to a droid with no knowledge of the Force. The youthful-looking areas of my skin and organs were functioning at the efficiency of a Muun half my age. And every time I went into the deep meditation to impose myself on the midi-chlorians, the effects lasted longer and longer before they returned to their aged state.

Every day and in every way, I was slowly conquering death. This was, of course, only the first step. First you gain power over yourself. Then another. Then a group, an order, a world, a species, a group of species...

And finally, the galaxy itself.

Stretching my back, I turned to regard the view. The key to the galaxy rose like bloated silver mushroom on the horizon in the form of the Senate Building. Manipulating the Senate with credits and promises was something the Sith had been quietly doing for centuries. Taking direct control via co-Chancellorship with Sidious, it seemed, was not the will of the dark side just yet. My apprentice's death had not been a complete loss, however. Far from it: with the death of the Chancellor-Elect the Senate was in more chaos than ever.

Sidious as Palpatine had won by appealing to the middle: moderates from both Core and Rim factions were willing to buck their faction's favored candidates for a mild-mannered compromiser, a classic Mid Rim yokel. Unfortunately without Sidious as a calming influence, many moderates simply recused from the Chancery vote, leaving the Rim and Core hardliners too evenly-matched to reach a decision. The Chancery elections were entering into their third recount, and tempers were running high. At first, Vice-Chancellor Amedda had wanted to simply award the Chancellorship to the runner-up, Bail Antilles. But Ainlee Teem and many pro-Palpatine moderates balked that this was unfair. So it was decided to hold a new election, which Antilles again won by two votes. However, new controversies over possible remote slicing of the vote-tally system of the Senate pods forced Amedda to call for another election. This next vote was effectively deadlocked; Antilles again had a slight lead in number of votes, but he failed to achieve the number needed to win outright. This was due to the surprise entry of two spoiler candidates into the second round of the election. On the one hand, many moderate Senators put forward Rodian Senator Onaconda Farr as part of a desperate (and franky rather sad) attempt at replicating the Palpatine effect. At the same time, Senator Com Fordox of Corellia put himself forward at the urging of a small clique of pro-decentralization Senators, evidently trying to look proactive to please the voters back in their home systems. Once again, Amedda had no choice but to call for a recount. Teem was making furious speeches about "humanocentric bureaucracy," Antilles' backers were losing confidence in his abilities, Farr and Fordox were milking the press for attention, and all the while an increasingly helpless and depressed Valorum looked on from the podium, unable to formally step down until a replacement was named.

Put simply, the Senate was falling apart, and it was the best show on the HoloNet.

At this point in the process, letting them fight was the best option. With Palpatine's body burned, it was imperative that his death pass out of the galactic news cycle before the Senate began asking serious questions. Happily, the initial investigation had overlooked me as a suspect. As 11-4D cleaned up the crime, I had drank as much wine as I possibly could and passed out in my bedchamber. The waste of so much good wine did pay off, however-- Coruscant Police were quite happy to believe my alibi, corroborated by Fourdee, that I had been drinking most of the night and gone to bed. They inferred that Palpatine had suffered a tragic heart attack and closed the case. But it was very important to distract the Senate with other political developments, lest they open up a committee and look deeper into what happened. The devolution of the election into chaos served that purpose well, with no need for direct interference.

Which was just as well, as I had another serious loose end to tie up. Sidious had been the one to coordinate the invasion of Naboo with the Trade Federation, and he had done so under his Sith identity. At the time, re-alerting small groups throughout the galaxy to our presence seemed like a risk worth taking. Eventually, we would have to begin working with factions semi-openly. But with Sidious dead the focus had shifted from conquest to survival. Nute Gunray and his inner circle knew too much. There was no telling what the Republic prosecutor could get him to divulge; the only way to destroy any last links between the Naboo incident and the Sith was to eliminate him before he could testify.

The comms station at the other end of the room chimed softly. I pressed the receive button through the Force and a half-sized image of Sate Pestage sprang to life, hovering over the console.

"Magister." The hologram-Pestage nodded slightly.

"I trust you have good news for me, Sate." I said. It was not a question.

"In fact I do. I've been looking through some of the Naboo records and I think we may have found our man."

I smirked. The Judicials hadn't got all the classified data the Trade Federation had stripped from Theed Palace's mainframe. "Very well then. Give me the relevant details."

Pestage pulled out a datapad and began reading from it. "Sykes, Gavyn. 27 years old. Lieutenant in the Royal Naboo Security Forces. After the Federation invasion, he vanished to join the resistance in the countryside. From there, Trade Federation intel implicates him in at least eleven major raids on Federation prison camps and security checkpoints across Naboo. Sykes also took part in Queen Amidala's counterattack on Theed Palace, and he may also have been one of the squadron of fighters that destroyed the Nemoidian flagship, the Saak'ak."

"He appears to be something of a war hero, no?"

"That's not the end of the story, Magister." Pestage fiddled with the datapad again. "I met with one of the late Senator Palpatine's old contacts in the Naboo civil service to corroborate the data we'd gotten from the grubs. She confirmed it, and got a hold of some supplemental data whose provenance I'd rather not get into."

I nodded. Pestage's discretion was even more valuable than his connections. "And what exactly is this data?"

"Well, once the Naboo resistance transitioned back into normal life, those that had been part of the RNSF were debriefed. This is Lt. Sykes' latest psych profile."

"I'm intrigued. Please keep going."

Pestage obliged. "The RNSF psychologist recommended he be put on extended leave. Depression, irritability, violent outbursts, and possibly the beginnings of substance abuse. I'm no doctor but this has all the signs of a man with ghosts in his past he can't cope with."

I smiled. So many lesser beings, lacking the purity of Sith resolve, found themselves consumed by their darker emotions. They were devoured from within, rather than drawing upon them productively. Still, as Maul had shown, they had their uses as disposable tools.

"That will suffice," I said, "for what we intend to accomplish here."

Pestage nodded. "I agree. In fact, I was just about to instruct Wesell to make contact."

"No," I said. "Accompany this bounty hunter when she goes to speak to Sykes. Explain to him that you require his assistance to avenge your friend Senator Palpatine. Play to his patriotism. He was there when Theed fell and the Judicials did nothing. He knows that the Republic does not have Naboo's best interests at heart; inflame his fears of the Supreme Court letting Gunray go with a slap on the wrist. Stoke the fires of vengeance within him, make him see himself as an instrument of universal justice. Then give him the blaster rifle and leave. The dark side will push him into motion like a dejarik piece, and Gunray's cowardly mouth will be silenced."

A cold satisfaction settled into my heart as I reflected on the plan's brilliance. The HoloNet News reports would write themselves. A Naboo war hero, a veteran of the recent fighting, likely lost friends to Trade Federation battle droids, clearly lost and disturbed and out to deliver justice on the alien who destroyed his homeworld...

It was a classic tragedy: the Hero's Fall. Nobody would think to look farther than the "Justice for Naboo" angle, especially with the recent news that the Queen had planetized all the planet's lucrative plasma reserves.

And besides, nobody would really miss Nute Gunray. Least of all his subordinates.

"On my way, Magister." Pestage's face was impassible. "I'll report back when Wesell and I have reached Naboo."

The ghostly blue image of the man dissolved into the air, leaving me alone with my thoughts again. I cycled the office doors open with a wave of my hand and re-emerged into the darkened hallway. Red-gold sunlight streamed into the cavernous hall, making the ribbed and vaulted ceiling look like the body cavity of some long-dead leviathan. Motes of dust circled in the air. Decay upon decay, awaiting the sharp sting of rebirth into the dark side.

As I walked to the door to my library, an inexplicable frustration hit me. How long would I have to spend on the defensive? When will I be able to move out of the debris field left by Sidious' ambition? Ever since that night the Grand Plan had been on the brink of failure. The Sith needed to regain the initiative, lest the work of Tenebrous and his master be undone and the Force thrown back out of balance once more. But it was becoming increasingly clear that I would be unable to move the Grand Plan forward on my own. Pestage was a good enough assistant for now, but without any connection to the Force his uses were limited to the mundane sphere.

I needed a second Sith. I needed a new apprentice, someone to carry on the Sith tradition while I ruled eternally from the galactic shadows. One with whom I could avoid the mistakes I had made with Sidious.

So engrossed was I in these thoughts that I had failed to hear the approaching footsteps, or sense a looming presence in the Force.

But I did hear that familiar snap-hiss came from behind me, and I most definitely felt the heat of a lightsaber blade thrumming at my neck.

I am not a Muun given to strong language, but the curse that almost left my lips would have made a Corellian smuggler blush.​

---

NOTES: Oh hey a nice cliffhanger ending for you. I wanted to delve a bit more into the mysticism Plagueis has become famous for while still moving the plot forward. Things are moving a little faster from here on, as chaos reigns in the Senate and dark forces move to silence Sidious' Nemoidian co-conspirators. As always, suggestions are very much encouraged.​

 

[Finagle007]

I doubt Maul has made it back to Coruscant just yet. Yes, it's been two months, but he was cut in half. Could be Dooku, of course.

 

[YeahOkayCool]

I doubt Maul has made it back to Coruscant just yet. Yes, it's been two months, but he was cut in half. Could be Dooku, of course.

Click to shrink...

I've never liked the idea of Maul coming back after being cut in half and falling into a bottomless pit. As far as I'm concerned, Maul's dead, and no amount of space-voodoo's gonna change that. He won't be appearing in this fic.

 

[Finagle007]

I've never liked the idea of Maul coming back after being cut in half and falling into a bottomless pit. As far as I'm concerned, Maul's dead, and no amount of space-voodoo's gonna change that. He won't be appearing in this fic.

Click to shrink...

That's your prerogative. Bit of a missed opportunity, but your fic your rules. Does mean that Plagueis' visitor is almost certainly Dooku, however.

 

[Moxas]

When you mess with the midi-chlorians, the medi-chlorians punch back. And there's a lot more of them