by James Luceno
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.”
“Then thank you for the warning. How did the Council react to your departure?”
“Not well. They demanded more explanation than I was willing to provide.”
“And Master Sifo-Dyas?”
Dooku frowned. “He knew that my leaving was simply a matter of time. Although he did say something I found to be rather curious. He said that if I had any designs on instigating dissent, he would be one step ahead of me.”
Palpatine shook his head in confusion. “Are you planning to instigate dissent?”
Dooku smiled faintly. “My first order of business is to reclaim my title.”
“Count Dooku,” Palpatine said, assessing the sound of it. “Somehow it suits you better than Master Dooku.”
“I’m tempted to adopt a new name altogether.”
“A new beginning.”
“Perhaps I should do as you’ve done.”
“As I’ve done?” Palpatine said.
“Call myself Dooku, as you retitled yourself Palpatine.”
“I see. Well, what meaning is conveyed by a name, in any case?” Again, he paused for a long moment. “I understand that Qui-Gon fell to a lightsaber.”
Dooku’s head snapped around. “The same Sith he confronted on Tatooine. The Council is hoping that Gunray can shed some light on the matter once the trial is under way.”
“I wouldn’t put much faith in that. Does the Council know anything at all?”
“Not even his Sith name,” Dooku said. “But they know that there is another.”
“How could they?”
“In theory, when the Sith went into hiding one thousand years ago, they vowed that there should be only two of them at any given time — one Master, one apprentice, through the generations.”
“Was this one who killed Qui-Gon the apprentice or the Master?”
Dooku looked at him as they walked. “My every instinct tells me that he was the apprentice. Obi-Wan suspects as much, as well, based on the Zabrak’s behavior. The Council is being more circumspect, but naturally they want the other one found.” He fell silent, then added, “The Sith deliberately revealed himself on Tatooine and on Naboo. More than disclosing their alliance with the Trade Federation, he did so to send a message to the Jedi. It amounts to a declaration of war.”
Palpatine came to a stop at a broken window that overlooked the rain-drenched Works. “How would one even begin to know where to look for this other Sith?”
“I’m not sure,” Dooku said, coming abreast of him. “Several crises of the past decade bea
r the signature of a more sinister intelligence than those who planned and perpetrated the events. Yinchorr, for example; but especially Eriadu and the assassination of the Trade Federation leadership. Clearly, certain beings have dealt with the Sith — perhaps without realizing it — and some may be dealing with the surviving one currently. Now that I’m no longer a Jedi, there may be a way for me to extract information from the crime cartels and other organizations. Eventually I will find him — or her — and with any fortune before the Jedi do.”
“To avenge the death of Master Qui-Gon,” Palpatine said, nodding, and aware that Dooku was staring at him intently.
“The thought preoccupied me for some time, but no longer.”
Palpatine turned his head slightly. “Then why seek this one?”
“Because I suspect that Naboo was only the beginning — a kind of opening salvo. The Sith want to see the Republic brought down. Much as you and I do.”
Palpatine didn’t respond for a long moment. “But to ally with a Sith …”
“For many, they are the embodiment of pure evil, but the Council knows differently. What separates a Sith from a Jedi is the way each approaches the Force. The Jedi Order has placed limits on itself, but the Sith have never shied from incorporating the power of the dark side to accomplish their goals.”
“You wish to learn the secrets of the dark side?”
“I confess that I do.”
Palpatine restrained an impulse to reveal his true identity. Dooku was strong in the Force, and might simply be attempting to draw him out. On the other hand …
“Something tells me that this hidden Sith may eventually find his way to you,” he said at last. “And if and when he or she does, I hope that the alliance you forge will help us restore order to the galaxy.”
Sate Pestage showed Obi-Wan Kenobi and his young Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, into Palpatine’s temporary office in the Senate Building. Both Jedi were wearing light-colored tunics, brown robes, and tall boots. Facsimiles of each other.
“Thank you both for accepting my invitation,” Palpatine said, coming out from behind a broad, burnished desk to welcome them. “Sit please, both of you,” he added, gesturing to chairs that faced the desk and the large window behind it.
Anakin had nearly seated himself when Obi-Wan chastised him with a shake of his head.
“Thank you, Supreme Chancellor,” the short-bearded Jedi said, “but we’ll stand.” He folded his hands in front of him and waited for Anakin to join him before saying: “We realize that your time is valuable.”
Returned to his armchair, Palpatine smiled receptively. “Not too valuable to spend with two of the people who saved the life of my Queen and rescued my homeworld from the clutches of the Trade Federation.” He kept his eyes on Obi-Wan. “I am sorry for the loss of Qui-Gon Jinn, Master Obi-Wan.”
The Jedi nodded in gratitude, then said: “I have only recently been named a Jedi Knight, Supreme Chancellor.”
Palpatine adopted a look of surprise. “And already you’ve been appointed a learner. Qui-Gon must have trained you brilliantly.”
Again, Obi-Wan nodded. “He was an inspired teacher.”
Palpatine firmed his lips and shook his head. “Such a waste of a life …” His cut his gaze to Anakin. “I didn’t have an opportunity on Naboo to thank you, young Skywalker. Your actions were nothing less than extraordinary. May the Force ever be as strong with you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Anakin said in a quiet voice.
Palpatine interlinked the fingers of his hands. “I’m told that you grew up on Tatooine. I visited there, many years ago.”
Anakin’s eyes narrowed for the briefest moment. “I did, sir, but I’m not supposed to talk about that.”
Palpatine watched him glance up at Obi-Wan. “And why is that?”
“My mother—”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped in reprimand.
Palpatine reclined slightly, studying the two of them. Obi-Wan seemed not to have noticed the fury simmering in the boy, but for an instant Palpatine perceived a touch of his younger self in Skywalker. The need to challenge authority; the gift for masking his emotions. The yet-unrecognized power.
“I apologize if I’ve stirred something between you,” he said after a moment.
Clearly uncomfortable, Obi-Wan shifted in place. “The Jedi are trained to live in the moment, Supreme Chancellor. Our upbringings have little to do with our lives in the Force.”
Palpatine furrowed his brow. “Easy for an infant, I’m certain, but for a young boy …” He interrupted himself with a negligent gesture. “Well, who am I to pass judgment on the tenets of your Order, when the Jedi have kept peace in the Repubic for one thousand years.”
Obi-Wan said nothing in a definite way.
“But tell me, Padawan Skywalker, how it feels to have become a member of such a revered group.”
“It’s like a dream come true, sir,” Anakin said in genuine sincerity.
“A dream come true … Then you’ve long thought about the Jedi Order and about the Force.”
Anakin nodded. “I’ve always wanted to bring justice—”
“It’s not for you to decide your destiny, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “The Force will guide you.”
Palpatine smiled inwardly. Guide you to me, young Skywalker.
Dooku had talent, and could be a powerful placeholder. But this seemingly guiless pleasant-faced boy, this Forceful boy, was the one he would take as his appretice, and use to execute the final stage of the Grand Plan. Let Obi-Wan instruct him in the ways of the Force, and let Skywalker grow embittered over the next decade as his mother aged in slavery, the galaxy deteriorated around him, and his fellow Jedi fell to inextricable conflicts. He was too young to be trained in the ways of the Sith, in any case, but he was the perfect age to bond with a father figure who would listen to all his troubles and coax him inexorably over to the dark side.
“As I told you on Naboo, Anakin,” he said finally, “we will continue to follow your career with great interest.”
And assure that it culminates in the ruination of the Jedi Order and the reascendancy of the Sith!
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