Hello people... well, I was watching Star Wars III for the sixth time this afternoon when an idea for a fanfic came to me. Now, it's been a long, long, long time since I've written anything, so I'm a bit out of practice. In other words, I suck. But hopefully I'll get the hang of it again soon. For now, this is the prologue. I have the rest of the plot generally figured out... for now, let me say it's about The Emperor's first apprentice, and the second rise of the Sith. At the moment, I'm completely obsessed with the Emperor... so maybe I'll write a separate one aaalll about him. He's the coolest villain E V E R . Anyway, this is what I have so far, please let me know what you think. And I need a better title.
Prologue

In the hollow darkness, a distant call for midnight struck lightly at the silence as the man crept through the room, a silent cat stalking its prey in the night. His robes rustled just slightly as he moved with surety and ease, no worry or pause in his mind. His eyes glistened malevolently, reflecting the dimmed lamp to the left of the bed in the center of the floor. When he reached it, he slowed further to a halt and stared down at the man sleeping there.

Darth Plagus was a Sith Lord. His identity was largely unknown to the rest of the galaxy- to most, he was just the leader of the underground anarchist movement, with the goal of overthrowing the Republic. And few knew that his capabilities and knowledge were beyond compare, that his expert use of the Force was as yet unchallenged. He possessed powers known to only one other in the galaxy- his apprentice. And it was this apprentice who now stood over him as he slept.

His eyes were alert, keenly studying the sleeping man's face. He smiled softly in scorn. This great Lord and Master, untouchable and unmatched, feared by his hundreds of followers, here sleeping peacefully. So much like a child, innocent and defenseless. Ironic that that hand, which now rested carelessly on the sheets, had been used countless times before to direct the murders of thousands of innocent people, simply because they may or may not have been a threat to his master plan.

As the apprentice watched his master sleep, the hatred grew within him. This man had been a fool. He had trusted his apprentice with all his knowledge and secrets. For what reason, he knew not. But he continued to smile down at him with grim triumph, knowing that fools cannot survive. They couldn't be allowed to. And now that he possessed the wisdom necessary to succeed his master, there was no further need for the sleeping man lying there to exist. Now that he had been trusted, he had the capability, even obligation, to betray that trust.

It's over for you, my Master, he thought to himself- an unapologetic farewell. And with that simplicity, his hand extended over the man lying peacefully, unaware. He closed his eyes and called forth his powers, summoning the Force to him. His hand rested just ten inches above the man's head and he clenched his fingers around the air, his eyes gaining a malicious glint as he saw the skin beneath his hand tighten at the same time. He began to feel the strain around his wrist, an uncomfortable sensation, but his smile broadened as the man's eyes flew open in terror. The master's hands went impulsively to his throat, grappling hopelessly at it. The sound of ripping tendons filled the room, and he tried and failed to cry out in agony. His eyes rolled back until he was staring straight at his assailant, his apprentice, his friend, who looked calmly back and said nothing.

He kicked his legs reflexively, his knuckles going white as they gripped some invisible force tightening even further around his throat. And all the time the man stood silently, watching as his master of many years was strangled, watching as he died. The helpless man's eyes were locked onto his, full of hate, staring at him even as he felt the life leaving him.

After what seemed like an eternity, his gaze fell away and his body went limp. The apprentice relaxed his hand, and dropped it to his side. His master lay dead before him. And he could not draw the smile from his lips- his triumph was too much to contain. And now that he was the only remaining of their kind, he knew he was obligated to choose another. But he would not make the same mistake Plagus had- he had no intentions of sharing his secrets, or trusting another, as long as he had breath in him. He, possessing the rare knowledge of the future, could forsee his long and prevailing reign. But for the moment, Darth Sidious required an apprentice.