Authors: James Luceno
His first thought was that they had attempted to drug him. His investigations into Sith sorcery had taught him how to nullify the effects of many common poisons and venoms—a practice he had performed routinely before he’d even seated himself at the table. Perhaps, then, they were waiting for him to slump forward and lapse into unconscious or froth at the mouth and be shaken by spasms …
Just when he was thinking that it was his acting ability that was going to be put to the test, two of the waiters converged on him, now showing their discreet but powerful weapons.
“Someone wants a word with you, Senator,” the taller of the pair said.
“Here?” Sidious said in apparent confusion.
The other one motioned to a door. “Through there.”
Sidious masked his smile: the Shimmersilk had a back room.
He stood clumsily, leaning deliberately toward one of the security men, gauging his body temperature, heart rate, and respiration. “I’m slightly intoxicated. I may have to count on you for support.”
The man made a sound of exasperation but allowed Sidious to place one arm on his shoulder.
How effortless it would be
, he thought, as the dark began to rise in him,
searing and hungry, yearning to assume control of his body and unleash itself,
to break the necks of both of them, to tear their beating hearts from their chests, to hurl and plaster them against the walls, to bring the entire sour-smelling place down on their heads …
But he didn’t. He needed to meet his abductor. He needed to learn the names of all those responsible. He needed to prove to his Master that he was adroit and capable—a true Sith Lord.
The back room had a second door that opened into a dark corridor leading to an ancient turbolift. Shoved forward by the guards, Sidious calculated the distance they had come from the Shimmersilk to the turbolift. He fell silent as they began to rise, and devoted his attention to calculating their rate of climb. He estimated that they had risen fifty levels when the turbolift came to a halt, depositing them in a corridor as aged as the first, though wider, tiled, and illuminated by wall sconces. Perhaps a maintenance corridor for the monads above, though still far below what would constitute the deepest of the sub-basements. The Santhe Security men guided him north across a stretch of stained permacrete floor to an intersection where a four-being speeder was idling, a heavily armed Rodian seated at the controls.
This one isn’t Santhe
, Sidious told himself.
A freelance mercenary or assassin
.
Shoved roughly onto the speeder’s rear bench seat, he was reminded not to do anything foolish. Restraining an impulse to reveal that
they
already had, he continued to play the intimidated abductee, cowering in the seat, hands interlocked in his lap, avoiding eye contact. The speeder traveled east at a moderate speed until the first intersection, then turned in the direction of the government district and resumed the same speed for a longer duration. Sidious reckoned that they were twenty or so tiers beneath the outlying buildings of the Senate when the speeder swung west into an even broader corridor toward a district known as The Flats or The Works—a kind of industrial plain situated well below the governmental plateau, overlooked to the far north by the Jedi Temple and the horizontal landing fields of Pius Dea Spaceport, and to the south by the resiblocks and commercial towers of the Fobosi district.
Where Plagueis was attending Larsh Hill’s induction into the Order of the Canted Circle.
The Rodian speeder pilot delivered them to an antigrav turbolift car.
While pretending to tremble in fear, Sidious had come to an additional conclusion: the fact that his abductors had gone to a lot of trouble to keep him out of public view meant that the plan called for him to be held for ransom or executed clandestinely rather than publicly.
The elevator carried them to a midlevel docking area of an abandoned factory, where several more guards were waiting. Oblique, particulate-suffused daylight streamed though massive windows yet to be smashed by the gangs that ruled The Works, falling on items that had been deemed worthless when the factory’s owners had abandoned Coruscant for less costly worlds in the Mid or Outer Rim. Sidious’s human handlers forced him to sit atop the boxy body of an overturned power droid. A portable holoprojector was moved into position in front of him, and a transmission grid placed under his feet.
One of the Santhe guards spent a moment activating the projector, then stepped aside as a faintly blue, life-sized image of Gran Protectorate Senator Pax Teem took shape above. Teem was dressed in a richly brocaded robe and a shimmersilk tunic banded by a broad cummerbund. The stable and sharply detailed quality of the image suggested that its source was Coruscant or a nearby Core world, rather than Malastare.
“We apologize for not having provided a seat more suited to your station, Senator. No doubt the head of House Palpatine is accustomed to more comfortable surroundings.”
Sidious rejected outrage and intimidation for rankled curiosity. “Is this the point where I’m expected to ask why I’ve been abducted?”
Teem’s eyestalks lengthened. “You’re not the least bit interested?”
“I assume that this has something to do with Naboo’s abstention in the vote.”
“That’s certainly part of the reason. You should have voted as your predecessor would have, Senator.”
“Those were not my instructions.”
“Oh, I’m certain of that much.”
Sidious folded his arms across his chest. “And the rest of it?”
Teem rubbed his six-fingered hands together in eagerness. “This has less to do with you than with the beings you serve. In a way, it’s simply your bad luck that you find yourself in the middle.”
“I don’t believe in bad luck, Senator, but I take your point to mean that my abduction is an act of retribution. And as such, you demonstrate
that the Gran Protectorate is willing to employ the same tactics used by those who ordered the assassination of Vidar Kim.”
Teem leaned toward the cam that was transmitting his image and allowed anger to contort his features. “You say that as if it’s still a mystery, when we both know that the murder wasn’t ordered by the Trade Federation but by your Muun master. By Hego Damask.”
Sidious’s expression didn’t change. “He is hardly my
master
, Senator. In fact, I scarcely know him.”
“He greeted you in front of the Senate Building like a close friend.”
“He was extending his greeting to two Jedi Masters I happened to be standing with.”
Teem’s right forefinger jabbed the air. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking that you can save yourself by lying. You and Damask have known each other for more than ten years. Ever since you were instrumental in helping him guarantee the election of Bon Tapalo.”
Sidious gestured casually. “An old rumor that has no basis in fact, begun and perpetuated by rivals of House Palpatine.”
“Again, you lie. Your treachery was to your father and his royal allies. In exchange for the information you released and the subsequent spying you carried out for Damask, he rewarded you by persuading Tapalo to appoint you ambassador.”
Sidious hid his ruefulness. That his enemies on Naboo had reached out to Teem came as no surprise. But the revelation firmed his decision to have those enemies eliminated at the first opportunity. And to see to it, as well, that information regarding his past disappeared from the public record.
“The appointment as ambassador came years later,” he said. “As a direct result of my political accomplishments on Naboo.”
Teem snorted a laugh. “In the same manner in which the appointment to the Senate was a result of your accomplishments?”
“Speak plainly, Teem,” Sidious said, his voice flat and menacing now.
Teem showed him a bitter smile. “Perhaps you had no direct hand in Kim’s death, but I suspect that you were complicit.” He paused, then added, “That little speech you gave in the Senate … I understand that it succeeded in attracting the attention of the Supreme Chancellor. Clearly you have all the makings of a career politician. Unfortunately, we plan to cut your career short.”
Sidious brushed dust from the shoulder of his robe. “Release whatever allegations you have. They will provide gossip for the day and be forgotten the next.”
Teem planted his large hands on his hips and laughed heartily. “You misunderstand me, Palpatine. We’re not interested in besmirching your reputation or holding you for ransom. We intend to
kill
you.”
Sidious took a moment to respond. It was odd to think now that he had once known fear. Though never incapacitating fear, and never for very long. But as a child, he’d experienced fear as a conditioned response to threat. Despite a reassuring voice inside him that had promised no harm could come, there had been, for a time, a
chance
that something terrible could happen. More than once his father’s raised hand had made him cringe. Eventually, he had understood that he had conjured that voice; that he hadn’t been fooling himself by exercising some infantile belief in invulnerability. And he understood now that it had been the dark side telling him that no harm could come to him, precisely because he
was
invulnerable. Since the start of his training, the voice had quieted by becoming internalized. Teem’s belief that he had power over him might long ago have moved him to pity instead of stirring anger and loathing. Raw emotion was a consequence of leading a double life. While he relished his secret identity, he wanted at the same time for it to be known that he was a being who could not be trifled with; that he wielded ultimate authority; that merely to gaze on him was tantamount to glimpsing the dark matter that bound and drove the galaxy …
“What is it you hope to gain by killing me?”
“Since you ask: to rid the Senate of yet another useless crony, and to send a special message to Hego Damask that his days of influencing the Senate have come to an abrupt end. For ten years we’ve been waiting to execute this …
retribution
, as you call it. For some of us, even longer. Reaching back to Damask’s partnership with a Bith named Rugess Nome.”
The assassination of Kerred Santhe
, Sidious thought. “I fear, Senator, that you have not given this matter sufficient thought.”
Teem’s face took on color. “Repercussions, Palpatine? Ah, but we have thought through the matter, and have taken the necessary precautions.”
Sidious nodded. “I’ll give you one final chance to reconsider.”
Teem swung to someone off cam and loosed a belly laugh. “Tell that to the beings who hold your life in their hands, Palpatine. And do take heart in the fact that you accomplished so much in your brief career.”
No sooner did the holoimage dissolve than two of the security men began to advance on him. Sidious readied himself for action. A Force blow to send them reeling back toward the holoprojector, then a leap, arms extended, hands curled into claws, one for each windpipe, which he would tear from their throats—
The Force intruded, drawing his attention to the windows in the upper walls.
At once, the sound of repeating blasters and pained cries echoed from adjacent rooms; then a nerve-jangling shattering of glass as Sun Guards crashed through the high windows and began to rappel to the filthy floor, firing as they slid down on their microfilament lines, catching the Santhe men and the Rodian with so many bolts that their bodies were left quartered by the volleys.
Other towheaded Echani rushed into the landing from both sides, some carrying force pikes, others blasters. Sidious had yet to move a muscle when a silver-eyed female hurried over to him.
“You’re safe now, Senator Palpatine.”
He smiled at her. “I can see that.”
An Echani male standing alongside the holoproj was using a handheld device to extract information from it. A moment later, an image of Hego Damask dressed in a ceremonial robe genied into view where Teem’s had been; the droid 11-4D stood behind him.
“We have the source, Magister,” the Sun Guard said. “Panoply Orbital Facility.”
Damask nodded. “Rendezvous with the rest of your team and execute the assault.”
The Sun Guard nodded briskly. “Shall I leave personnel with Senator Palpatine?”
“No,” Damask told him. “Senator Palpatine doesn’t require your protection. Leave us.”
Sidious could hear airspeeders hovering outside the factory. Without further word, the Sun Guards began to race from the room.
“You’ve obviously been keeping a close eye on me,” Sidious said as he approached the projector.
Darth Plagueis nodded. “Your abduction has been in the planning stages for some time.”
“Ever since you made it a point to greet me openly at the Senate.”
“Even before that. Veruna alerted me to the fact that a group of disgruntled nobles had made contact with the Gran.” Plagueis paused a moment. “You might consider using Sate Pestage to settle the score with them.”
“The thought occurred to me.”
“As for our public meeting, I needed to dangle you in front of them.”
“Without my knowledge.” The ruddiness that had come to Sidious’s face deepened. “Another test?”
“Why should I need to test you?”
“Perhaps you thought I was becoming so enthralled with life on Coruscant that I wouldn’t recognize danger.”
“Clearly you weren’t. I could see that you were aware from the start. You were determined to please me, and indeed you have.”
Sidious inclined his head in a respectful bow.
“Even in partnership with Santhe Security, Teem and the other Gran are rank amateurs,” Plagueis continued. “Our agents persuaded them to use the eatery in Uscru, and the factory in which you find yourself—owned by us, as it were, through a holding company called LiMerge Power. We were unable, however, to determine where the Gran would be taking refuge.”
“And now you know,” Sidious said. “But why go to such lengths to set them up? Why not simply kill them?”
“This isn’t Sith business, apprentice. For the sake of appearances we need to justify what we are about to unleash on them. They failed to understand our message and now they must be taught a lesson. Still, other interests need to be convinced of our reasoning.”