by James Luceno
“Who in their right mind would fund an army that might never be used?”
“I would,” Damask said. “Along with some of my associates in the Banking Clan — and in conjunction with contacts in Rothana Heavy Engineering, which would supply the ships, armaments, and other matériel.”
Sifo-Dyas fixed him with a look. “Come to the point, Magister.”
“The Kaminoans will not create an army for me, but they would do so for the Jedi Order. They have been fascinated by the Jedi for millennia.”
Sifo-Dyas’s dark brown eyes widened. “You’re not proposing cloning Jedi—”
“No. I have been assured that such a thing is impossible, in any case. But I have also been assured that a human army a million strong could be ready for deployment in as few as ten years.”
“You’re suggesting that I circumvent the High Council.”
“I suppose I am. The Kaminoans need only a modest down payment, which I could provide to you through untraceable accounts I maintain in Outer Rim banks.”
Again, the Jedi remained silent for a long moment. “I need time to consider this.”
“Of course you do,” Damask said. “And when you’ve reached a decision, you can contact me at my residence downside.”
Sifo-Dyas nodded in glum introspection, and Damask spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. Palpatine was just returning to the place where they had been standing earlier, his eyes and his movements suggesting unusual excitement.
“You have the holocron?” Damask said as he approached.
“Yes, but not from Maul.”
Damask waited for an explanation.
“It was dropped into my hand by none other than the information broker Maul had been pursuing and thought dead — Lorn Pavan. The fact that Pavan’s right hand had been cleanly and recently amputated told me at once that the two fought in one of the air locks.”
“This Pavan defeated Maul?”
Palpatine shook his head. “But I suspect that Pavan somehow managed to outwit him and take him by surprise.”
“Incredible,” Damask said, astonished that events could become even more convoluted. “Then Pavan must know what the holocron contains.”
“I’m supposed to deliver it to the Jedi,” Palpatine said with obvious amusement; and looking around, added, “Perhaps to Yoda or Windu …”
“Pavan,” Damask snapped.
Palpatine squared his shoulders. “Pestage and Doriana are escorting him downside, where he’ll receive medical attention, maybe even a new hand, and a comfortable hotel suite in which to spend the final day of his life.”
“A reward we should withhold from Maul, but probably won’t.” Damask glanced at Palpatine. “In any event, it wasn’t Pavan who handed you the holocron. It was delivered by the dark side.”
Palpatine thought about it for a moment. “And Sifo-Dyas? Will he do it?”
“Even if he decides against it, there may be a way to place the order in his name. But the Force tells me that he will do it.”
“That will make him a potential danger to us.”
Damask nodded. “But it won’t matter. We have become invincible.”
This will never do, Palpatine thought as he sat opposite Valorum in the Supreme Chancellor’s cloudcutting office in the Senate Building, listening to him drone on about his troubles with the Ethics Committee.
The view through the large triangular windows was pleasant enough, but the office was far too small. Worse, it felt more like a relic from a bygone age rather than a nerve center for the New Order. No amount of remodeling could transform it into the space Palpatine imagined for himself. Perhaps a new building was required; an annex of sorts or, better still, an executive office building — if only to grant those who would work there the illusion that their pitiful efforts mattered …
“The deeper my lawyers and accountants pursue this matter, the more dead ends they encounter,” Valorum was saying. Dark circles underscored his eyes, and his hands were trembling slightly. “The aurodium ingots the Nebula Front stole from the Trade Federation freighter were converted to credits, which were used to finance their operations on Asmeru and Eriadu. But the ingots themselves moved through a series of specious banks and other financial institutions, and were ultimately invested in Valorum Shipping by unknown parties. I say unknown because the beings listed as investors appear never to have existed.”
“Baffling,” Palpatine said, drawing out the word. “I don’t know what to think.”
A week had passed since the Perlemian political gathering. Lorn Pavan was dead by Maul’s lightsaber, a day before an artificial hand was to have been grafted to the information broker’s stub of forearm. Cost cutting, Plagueis had remarked at the time.
Valorum was resting his head in his hands. “That someone or some organization engineered this to cripple me is beyond doubt. The question of why anyone — even my most stalwart detractors in the Senate — would essentially discard tens of millions of credits to achieve this in the final months of my term is inexplicable.” He raised his face to Palpatine. “My immediate predecessors were bold, and they knew how to manage the Senate. I believed I could bring something different to the office. A quieter diplomacy; one informed by the Force, and by the ideals of the Jedi Order.”
Palpatine suppressed an urge to leap across the desk and strangle him.
“I realize that I’ve made some poor decisions. But has any chancellor in the past century had to face more challenges than I have? Has any chancellor had to deal with a more corrupt and self-serving Senate, or more megalomaniacal corporations?” Valorum closed his eyes and exhaled. “Whoever is behind this machination wants nothing more than to destroy my legacy entirely; to make the name Valorum seem a stain on history …”
“Then we must double our efforts to exonerate you,” Palpatine said.
Valorum laughed without amusement. “I’m useless to the Republic if we can’t. Until the matter is resolved, I’m prohibited from sanctioning the use of Jedi or Judicials to intervene in disputes. I’m not permitted to convene special sessions without the express consent of this new vice chancellor, Mas Amedda, who blocks my every proposal and venerates procedure as if it were holy text.”
“Deception begins with bureaucracy,” Palpatine said.
Silent for a moment, Valorum adopted an expression of resolve. “I’m not without ideas.”
He tapped a touch screen built into his desk, and a large data display resolved above the holoprojector. Rising from his chair, he indicated a graph on which several dozen corporations were listed.
“One might assume — in light of the accusations stacked against me — that my family’s concern on Eriadu would suffer a sudden decline in the market. But precisely the opposite is happening. Credits have been flowing into Valorum Shipping at an unparalleled rate, and to several other shipping and transport concerns, as well — many of them based in the Outer Rim. And that’s not all.”
His hands returned to the touch screen, and a second graph took shape alongside the first. “Investments in minor suppliers of plasma and alternative energy conglomerates have increased threefold. But most important, a surge has occurred in the military supply sector, with astonishing growth in Baktoid Armor Workshop, Haor Chall Engineering, the Colicoid Creation Nest, and similar providers.”
Palpatine, despite himself, was impressed. “What do these data suggest?”
“That some nefarious business is unfolding under our very noses. That even the scandal in which I’m embroiled may be part of a larger plan.”
Palpatine was about to respond when the voice of Valorum’s personal secretary issued from the intercom.
“Supreme Chancellor, I apologize for interrupting, but we have received an urgent transmission from Queen Amidala, of Naboo.”
“The Queen!” Palpatine said with theatrical surprise.
“Can you direct the transmission to my office?” Valorum said.
“Our comm techs are telling me that the signa
l is very weak, but that they will do their best.”
Palpatine and Valorum turned to the office holoprojector table and waited. Within moments a noisy, fluctuating 3-D image of Naboo’s pale-faced teenage queen appeared.
“Supreme Chancellor Valorum,” she said. “We bring news of a grave development on our homeworld. Without warning, the Neimoidian faction of the Trade Federation has initiated a blockade. Their massive freighters encircle our world, and no ships are permitted to arrive or depart.”
Palpatine and Valorum exchanged stunned looks.
How perfectly she plays her part, Palpatine thought. Sitting on her throne like some costumed and overly made-up animatronic doll. The stately pose, the uninflected voice, long-bearded adviser Sio Bibble standing to one side, dark-complected security chief Panaka to the other …
“Your Highness, have the Neimoidians communicated any demands?” Valorum asked as the blue-tinged image flickered, stabilized, and flickered again.
“Viceroy Gunray states that the blockade has been launched in protest of the Senate’s decision to tax shipping in the free-trade zones. He assures that any attempts to break the embargo will meet with deadly force. Unless the new regulations are rescinded, he is prepared to see everyone on Naboo starve.”
Valorum clenched his hands. “Your Majesty, Senator Palpatine is here with me.”
Neither Amidala’s expression nor her flat tone of voice wavered. “Senator Palpatine, we are pleased that you are able to hear this news firsthand.”
“Your Highness,” Palpatine said, stepping into view of the holoprojector cams and inclining his head. “I will contact the Trade Federation delegates immediately and demand that this blockade be terminated.”
“Demands may not be enough to sway them, Senator. Naboo requests that the Republic intervene in this matter as quickly as possible.”
“And it will, Your Highness,” Valorum said all too quickly. “I will convene a special session … I pledge that Naboo will have my undivided attention.”
Amidala nodded. “You have shown us much courtesy in the past, Supreme Chancellor. We trust that you will do everything in your power, as you are our only hope.”
The transmission ended abruptly.
“The face of this nefarious business reveals itself,” Palpatine said.
Valorum returned to his desk and sat. “I give you my word — for your help during the Yinchorri Crisis and for so many years of friendship — that this situation will not stand. Though my hands be bound, I will find some way to resolve this.”
“I know that you will try, Supreme Chancellor.”
Valorum took a deep breath. “One word of advice, Palpatine. Prepare to be thrust into the spotlight.”
29: THE FORCE STRIKES BACK
Though the blockade of Naboo had been launched in direct defiance of Republic law — as much a protest against taxation as it was a challenge to the jurisdiction of the Jedi — it failed to achieve the immediate effect Plagueis and Sidious had anticipated. Far from the Core, Naboo hadn’t been invaded, and no important beings had died, as had occurred during the Yinchorri Crisis and at the summit on Eriadu. Thus the blockade was viewed by many as little more than saber rattling by the vexed Trade Federation; an inconvenience to those worlds that relied on the consortium for goods; the latest in a series of confrontations to expose the incompetence of a hopelessly splintered Senate.
Nevertheless, the two Sith had worked tirelessly to make the most of Naboo’s predicament to secure support among Palpatine’s peers, and ensure not only that his name would be placed in nomination, but that he could win if nominated. Equally important, they had to make certain that Palpatine could marshal enough votes in the Senate to ratify his decision to appoint Hego Damask co-chancellor.
For a change, Damask had taken the lead — making the rounds, making promises, calling in long-overdue favors and debts — while Palpatine, for appearances’ sake, made several futile attempts to meet privately with Trade Federation representative Lott Dod. Pestage, Doriana, Janus Greejatus, Armand Isard, and others were also busy behind the scenes, planting incriminating evidence where necessary, and seeing to it that instances of graft were made public.
Their joint efforts did not constitute a political campaign so much as an exercise in elaborate subterfuge.
“Bail Antilles remains the front-runner,” Plagueis told Sidious when he arrived at the Muun’s penthouse. “Ironically, the crisis at Naboo has drawn the Core Worlds into a tighter circle. Where Antilles has always been in danger of being dismissed as the candidate most likely to follow in Valorum’s footsteps, he is suddenly the darling of those advocating for strong, central authority.”
“He can be undermined,” Sidious said. “What about Teem?”
“In addition to the Trade Federation, Teem now has the backing of the Corporate Policy League.”
Sidious remained indifferent. “The Senate is not ready to elect a militant, much less a militant Gran. Embracing the support of the CPL is equivalent to promising the repeal of anti-slavery restrictions.”
Plagueis’s frustration was evident, even if his frown was hidden. “Interest in Naboo is already beginning to wane, and with it the sympathy vote we counted on.”
Sidious had his mouth open to respond when his comlink chimed, and he held the device to his ear.
Plagueis watched him closely.
“That is most welcome news,” Sidious said into the device, as if in a daze. “I didn’t expect this … A good choice, I think … I am certain of it, Supreme Chancellor … Yes, I’m sure she meant every word of it.”
“What now?” Plagueis asked the moment Palpatine broke the connection.
Sidious shook his head in disbelief. “Valorum somehow managed to persuade the Council to send two Jedi to Naboo.”
Despite all his talk about invincibility, Plagueis looked confounded. “Without Senate approval? He tightens the noose around his own neck!”
“And ours,” Sidious said, “if the Neimoidians panic and decide to admit the truth about the blockade.”
Plagueis paced away from him in anger. “He must have approached the High Council in secret. Otherwise, Mas Amedda would have apprised us.”
Sidious followed the Muun’s nervous movements. “Dooku mentioned that the Council would continue to support him.”
“Did Valorum say which Jedi were sent?”
“Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
Plagueis came to an abrupt halt. “Worse news yet. I have met Qui-Gon, and he is nothing like some of the others Dooku trained.”
“They are a pesky duo,” Sidious said. “The nemesis of the Nebula Front at Dorvalla, Asmeru, and on Eriadu.”
“Then Gunray and his sycophants stand no chance against them.”
Sidious had an answer ready. “Two lone Jedi are no match for thousands of battle droids and droidekas. I will order Gunray to kill them.”
“And we will have another Yinchorr, and the added danger of Gunray divulging our actions, past and present.” Plagueis thought for a moment. “Qui-Gon will evade detection by the droids and wreak slow but inevitable havoc on the flagship.”
“Then I will command Gunray to launch the invasion ahead of schedule. Protecting the Naboo will become the immediate concern, as opposed to arresting the Neimoidians. Gunray may balk at the idea, but I will assure him that the Republic will not intervene.”
Plagueis agreed. “Amedda can deny any request Valorum makes to convene the Senate in special session. Still …”
They regarded each other in stony silence; then Sidious nodded.
“I will see to it that Maul is ready.”
Plagueis pressed his hands together. “It is the will of the dark side that we finally reveal ourselves,” he said in a solemn voice.
It certainly wasn’t that he didn’t trust Darth Sidious. But Plagueis had never observed Maul at close range, and he was curious about Sidious’s relationship with him. He knew that they had seldom met outside The Works
, let alone walked together on a balcony of one of Coruscant’s most stylish monads in the dead of night, wrapped in their cowled cloaks. But it was only fitting that they should finally do so. With 11-4D close at hand, Plagueis stood observing the two of them from afar, his presence in the Force minimized.
The invasion and occupation of Naboo were proceeding on schedule, and the swamps were being searched in an effort to locate and isolate the principal underwater habitats of the planet’s indigenous Gungans, before they could pose a threat. But the two Jedi, Queen Amidala, and her retinue of body doubles and guards had succeeded in blasting their way through the blockade. With Maul’s help, counterfeit messages from the Queen’s adviser Sio Bibble had been transmitted to the missing starship, and one transmission had returned a faint connection trace to the Hutt-owned world of Tatooine. On learning as much, Plagueis had considered asking Jabba to apprehend the Queen, but not for long, out of concern for what the dark side might demand of him in return.
“Tatooine is sparsely populated,” 11-4D said, repeating what the Dathomiri Zabrak was saying to Sidious. “If the trace was correct, I will find them quickly, Master.”
“Go on,” Plagueis said quietly.
“In reply, Sidious is instructing Maul to make the Jedi his first priority. Once Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are disposed of, Maul is to return Queen Amidala to Naboo and force her to sign a treaty that cedes control of the planet and its plasma reserves to the Trade Federation.”
The droid paused, then added, “Maul says, ‘At last we reveal ourselves to the Jedi. At last we will have revenge.’ ”
In the distance, Sidious turned to Maul.
FourDee sharpened its auditory inputs. “Sidious says: ‘You have been well trained, my young apprentice. They will be no match for you.’ ”
The words stirred deep misgiving in Plagueis and he stretched out with the Force, attuned to its swirling currents. Momentarily, the gates that obscured the future parted and he had a glimpse of events to come, or events that might come.
Either way, he was not encouraged.
