"My boy, you have just stepped into a world larger than you have ever known." Damask—Plagueis—patted the young man's shoulder proudly. "Congratulations and thank you."

"Sir—er, Master, it is beyond an honor," the new Sith breathed. "Believe me when I say my heart is in this." He blinked and suddenly, the Muun's eyes had changed. No longer were they the deep pools of black that had always unnerved young Palpatine. They were now sickly yellow, rimmed with blood red, and they seemed to emit a faint glow in the dim light. "Your eyes!" he cried.

Plagueis grinned. "The Dark Side can have a number of physical manifestations on the organic body of its users. The change in eye color is only one of them. I have the ability to change my eye color to whichever I like. I rather enjoy the unsettling effect my black eyes have on people," said with a cruel smirk.

"I see…," said Palpatine. He had so much to learn.

"You do not seem to need to be convinced of the Jedi's misguided attempt to do the right thing," Plagueis commented, taking great interest in his new Apprentice's apparently inherent hatred of the rival order. "What has made you so open to the ideals of the Sith?"

"To be honest, sir—Master, I have always felt the Jedi were wrong in their chosen path." He became grave. "But recent events have motivated me to seek the destruction of every single one of the self-righteous, entitled Kath hounds." He stopped a moment; Plagueis shot him a confused look. "I told you that my parents died when part of the Theed spaceport collapsed," he said. "What I didn't tell you was that a Jedi was responsible." Anger came off of him in waves so strong, Plagueis needn't be Force sensitive to feel them. "He said that their loss was 'regrettable.'"

"Do you know the name of this Jedi?" the Sith Lord asked his Apprentice.

Palpatine nodded. "Sifo-Dyas."

"Never forget that name, Apprentice," Plagueis instructed. "You will have your revenge." Plagueis secretly thanked this Jedi for delivering to the Sith the means with which to destroy their order.

Palpatine's eyes glistened with tears, narrowing in rage. "Yes," he said. "I will."

Plagueis closed his eyes a moment. "I feel your anger. It gives you power, focus. Embrace your fury. Turn it back toward the Jedi. Take control of your anger, do not let it take control of you. Too many Sith have been corrupted by their own anger. They let it consume them and it destroyed them. It led to the near destruction of the entire order many times over."

Palpatine nodded. "When do we begin my training, sir?" He corrected himself, "I mean, Master."

"Immediately, my Apprentice. I have waited too long as it is to take on a pupil. We must begin now."

"Where do we start, Master?" Palpatine inquired.

Plagueis smiled, proud of his new pupil's enthusiasm. "We must begin with the Force," he told his Apprentice. "You must learn its every aspect if you intend to wield it as a Master." He poured them both another glass of wine without touching the bottle. "How much do you know about the Force?"

Palpatine shook his head, eyes glued to the bottle as it moved of its own accord. "Almost nothing," he mumbled, engrossed with the demonstration. "I know it allows one to do extraordinary things, but beyond what appear to be parlor tricks," he nodded at the floating bottle, "I don't know."

"The Force," Plagueis began to explain, "is an energy field that only a scant few are able to tap into and utilize. It infuses all matter in the universe. It creates life and is in turn created by life." He paused. "And by death.

"The Force is seen by the Jedi as a gift granted to them in order to better the galaxy. They view the Force as a two-sided coin, Light and Dark, Good and Evil. Their way is the way of weakness," he scoffed. "They willingly cut themselves off from half of the Force, stubbornly refusing to explore the might of the Dark Side. They strip themselves of their emotions, do not allow themselves to feel for anyone or anything. Attachment is forbidden. They are not allowed to love or hate.

"But the Sith understand that the root of the Force's power is in your emotions. Fear, hatred, anger, even love. Passion. These are powerful emotions that fuel the Dark Side. They give you strength."

"I've felt it," Palpatine interjected. "On Naboo, there was a fire controller. He wouldn't take me to the Jedi who killed my parents. I got angry and this—I can't even describe it. It felt like my anger was just released out of my chest. The next thing I knew, he was on the ground."

"Ah," Plagueis said with a nod. "Yes, that would explain what I felt that night," he said, finally understanding the nova-sized explosion of rage he had felt while Palpatine was away just a week earlier. "Your power must be great, indeed, for me to have sensed your anger like that from so far away."

"Really?" asked Palpatine, surprised. "I mean, I always felt a little different from everyone else. I could sense things about them. But if I'm so strong in the Force, why didn't the Jedi steal me away from my family when I was born?"

"Because you are special, my new Apprentice," said Plagueis. "When I first met you, I felt something in you that I had never felt before. You were a void in the Force. It was as though the Force bent around you, cloaking you from my perception. I could sense every mind in the room with the exception of yours."

Palpatine's eyes widened. "That's why you gave me such an odd look! Are you saying I was never taken by the Jedi because...they never knew I existed?"

Plagueis nodded. "You might have lived your entire life without coming into contact with someone capable of sensing this…anomaly. But the Dark Side has brought you to me. Your power was buried so deep, it took your rage at the Jedi who killed your parents to bring it into the open. That event was a catalyst. Once the power within you was given an outlet, it could no longer be retained. Now when you stand before me, I feel an incredible fountain of strength. You are by far the most powerful being within the Force that I have ever encountered. And I have personally shaken hands with Master Yoda." He warned, "You must learn to shield your presence. If I can sense you, so too can the Jedi."

"I—I don't know what to say. I only hope I can live up to my potential." Palpatine's pale face flushed red. He'd always felt he was destined for greatness, but this was beyond any of his wildest dreams.

"I am confident you will, boy. Here," he said, making a subtle hand motion, "Let me demonstrate for you what the Force is capable of."

The wine bottle rose from the table, levitating in midair. It tilted and poured the remaining deep green liquid into Palpatine's glass as the young man looked on in awe. When it righted itself, it began to spin. It spun so fast, the label became a light blur against the dark brown glass. Then something happened that Palpatine didn't expect. Thin wisps of smoke rose up from the bottle, the rapid spin causing the smoke to twist into a tight braid. The paper label was burning. Then Palpatine saw why; the bottle itself was heating up, starting to glow red hot. The air shimmered from the heat. When the glass became soft and malleable, its spinning motion flattened it into a disk. Then the sides folded up. Still spinning rapidly, the glass changed its shape from a disk to a sphere.

As the sphere formed, it expanded. Within a few moments, it was a meter across. The spinning slowed, the glass darkened as it cooled. Gently, the glass ball lowered itself down on the sitting room table. Palpatine kept his eyes locked on the fragile glass orb, shocked by what he just saw.

Plagueis caught the young man's amazement. "That was but a tiny taste of what the Force can do. The power of the Force is infinite. One only needs to unlock the secrets to using it."

"And you will teach me these secrets?" asked Palpatine eagerly.

"A great deal of the secrets one can only learn through time and experience, but yes, I will set you on the path," his new Master told him. "I sense that one day, you will be an incredible power in this universe." Plagueis stopped a moment. "But I must be certain," he said finally. "Follow me." The spindly Muun rose and gestured for Palpatine to follow.

Obediently, Palpatine got up and fell into step behind his new teacher. "Where are we going, sir—er, Master."

"To the future," Plagueis said somewhat cryptically. "We are going to the future. Your future," he said dramatically. "Hopefully," he muttered quietly to himself. While he foresaw great power in the boy's future, it deeply concerned him that he could not see anything more specific. This was a potential danger to him. But he was already beyond his species' middle age. Too old to continue on without an Apprentice and very nearly too old to find and train another should young Palpatine prove inadequate. No, he thought to himself. This is the one.

Plagueis led the young man through the enormous apartment. Every wall was adorned with artwork from dozens of worlds. Sculptures stood in every corner. Mixed in were various Sith artifacts he had acquired over the years. If one were to combine the values of everything in the apartment, the amount would be staggering. Enough to feed an entire planet. One frieze, carved from solid stone and depicting an ancient and epic battle between what looked like Jedi and Sith, took up an entire wall. He'd acquired it on the fourth moon of the gas giant Yavin. It was a particular favorite of his.

As they wove deeper into the interior of the apartment, the artwork ceased. The walls became bare. It now began to resemble the inside of a starship. Heavy duranium panels covered the walls and floor. They entered a hallway that, to Palpatine, appeared to be a dead end. There was a single sconce at the end of the hall, illuminating a bare section of wall. They continued to walk toward the dead end; Palpatine dared not to ask the obvious question. They walked until he was certain Plagueis would ram his flat nose straight into it. However, the Muun stopped abruptly, centimeters from the wall, staring into it. He placed a hand on a panel that, to Palpatine, didn't appear any more special than the others, and spoke loudly and clearly in a language he was unfamiliar with.

"Darthae Plageus, Luexemo lordo v Sithu." He removed his hand from the wall and instantly, the section retracted, revealing a hidden turbolift.

Plagueis turned to Palpatine and bade him enter. Palpatine obliged and was followed by Plagueis. The door slid shut and the lift immediately began to descend. After a few moments, it came to a halt. Palpatine could only guess how fast they had been going but he judged that they were now well below the planet's bedrock.

Silently, the door slid open and the two stepped out into a room that rivaled the senate rotunda in size. The most astonishing thing that Palpatine noticed was that it appeared to have been excavated out of the solid bedrock itself. Its floor was smooth and polished, though scuffed and damaged in places. The floor was marked everywhere with a series of concentric circles that seemed to radiate out from the center. The circles were intersected by lines at odd angles that crisscrossed over the entire floor. He saw many deep gouge marks in the polished stone. The furrows seemed burned into the rock, like something unimaginably hot had raked across it and vaporized the stone. Across the chamber on the far wall, he saw what appeared to be several powered down droids, the overhead lights glinting dully off their alloy skin. He also saw a pile of debris that appeared to be no less than four droids of the same model. They were horribly mangled and shattered. The edges of some of the pieces seemed to be melted.

Palpatine quickly sobered himself, having been looking around with mouth agape. "Master, what is this place?"

"This is where I come to train," answered Plagueis. "And it is where I will train you. This is where you will learn the art of the lightsaber as well as the more…physical…Force powers. This is where the Jedi will fall and the Sith shall rise again." Plagueis made his way to the center of the arena. His footsteps echoed off the high domed ceiling. He raised his arms and motioned all around him.

"Isn't it marvelous?" he asked. "Four hundred meters below the surface, right under the Jedi's very noses. It has seen the training of six previous Dark Lords. It was constructed in secret over two hundred years ago by Darth Lycan."

Palpatine stepped up next to his new master. "This is wonderful, Master. When do I begin my training here?"

"Not quite yet, my young Apprentice. You must first condition your mind before you can condition your body. This will be your playground, where you will come into your abilities. And then you will be named a Darth, heir to all the power of the Dark Side." He smiled. "I'm pleased to see that you are anxious to learn the ways of the Sith. But first," he held up a long finger, "you must learn to harness the Force. You must learn the very basic skills common to all Force users, Jedi and Sith alike. These are your Core powers."

Palpatine adopted a very serious tone now. "And you're absolutely certain I have the Force, Master?"

Plagueis' face turned cold, his eyes narrowed.

"Do you believe that I would waste my precious time and my secret with someone who had no power? If I wasn't certain beyond certain that they were the key to the eradication of the Jedi Order?" His eyes flashed for a second, then his expression softened. "I have already said it. You are the strongest being in the Force I have ever felt."

"Really?"

Darth Plagueis raised a grey brow. "We shall see," he said ominously. Across the room, three of the droids powered up, their eyes shining a demonic red as they turned their heads to face their master.

"Kill him," Darth Plagueis instructed, quickly backing away from Palpatine. Without hesitation, they charged the bewildered young man.

"WHAT?" Palpatine shrieked. He'd been betrayed! There was no time to dwell on his dismay; he had to do something. The droids were getting closer, their rapid footfalls echoing loudly around the stone arena. Time seemed to slow. He saw their red photoreceptors bouncing in the distance, each step bringing them closer. He saw the light glint off the deadly vibroblades affixed to their forearms, just waiting to slice him to ribbons. He stood frozen in place, his mind succumbing to his terror. The first droid had reached him now. It swung its arm in a wide arc meant to cleave his torso in two. At the last possible moment, instinct, or perhaps the Force, intervened. Without even thinking, he ducked and rolled just as the vibroblade hummed through the space he had just occupied. He completed the roll and began running.

"Use the Force to protect yourself!" yelled Plagueis, who was now watching from twenty meters away.

"But how?" cried Palpatine. "Tell me!" The youth ran as fast as his legs would allow…right in the direction of the other two droids.

He swore loudly, something unusual for him, but given the circumstances, appropriate. Quickly, he changed directions, breaking ninety degrees to his left. Now he had all three droids in pursuit. They were mere meters behind and closing faster than he would like. As it was, he felt on the verge of collapse and it would only be a matter of seconds before they caught up. He needed to do something.

"Use you feelings! Draw upon your fear!" instructed Plagueis.

"I don't think I can do this, sir!" Palpatine yelled back. He'd never been more afraid in his life, but he couldn't see how he could use that fear for anything helpful.

"Don't think!" said Plagueis. "You must feel. Feel out your surroundings. Use them to your advantage. See yourself defeating them. The battle must first be won in your mind!" Plagueis was becoming concerned. "Allow your fear to work for you, not against you. The Dark Side feeds on fear. This is where the Sith draw their strength." Would he stop the droids from killing the young man should he fail? Probably, he though. The boy is much too valuable to let die so needlessly.

Palpatine drew upon his fear to keep him going. He was amazed at this "second wind" he was experiencing. Was this the Force? He allowed himself a brief pause to check his surroundings. He saw the large pile of droid debris nearby.

"I want to hit them with those parts!" Palpatine yelled, breathless. "How do I do that?" He was seconds away from running out of room to run. The wall was rapidly growing closer.

"See the parts," said Plagueis. "Clear your mind of everything except those parts. Visualize them rising from the floor and hitting the droids."

Palpatine was out of time. He skidded to a halt a meter in front of the wall, the droids right on top of him. He pressed himself flat against the smooth stone, as though trying to melt into it. The first droid approached and took a swing. He ducked just in time as the massive forearm smashed into the wall where his head had just been. Large chunks of rock rained down on the cowering young man. He saw an opening between the droid's legs and dove through them. Allowing himself a slight grin of silent congratulations, he started to run again, narrowly missing the attacks of the other two droids that had just caught up.

He ran towards the debris pile. He envisioned one of the bladed forearms sailing over his shoulder and decapitating the nearest droid. He saw the scenario play out in his head a dozen times. He thought of nothing else. But still, the pieces lay unmoving where they sat. He stopped in his place and closed his eyes. The heavy footfalls behind him seemed to slow and fade. Why wasn't it working? For the first time, he allowed himself to be angry. His anger eclipsed his fear at this point. He was furious at the situation he'd been put in. He hated the droids for trying to kill him. He hated Plagueis for setting them after him without any kind of training. Finally, he hated himself for allowing himself to die before his parents could be avenged.

Suddenly, he felt a very familiar sensation coming on. That strange pressure in his chest was building like it had on Naboo. He focused on his anger, let it fuel him, let it burn through his body like a cleansing fire. He allowed it to build until he couldn't take it anymore. He let out a scream that seemed to tear apart his very soul. He felt the power release from his body in an explosion of hate.

The world came rushing back to him. He heard a loud impact and three distinct metallic thuds. He also heard a surprised grunt. He opened his eyes and turned around. He saw the remains of the three droids, twisted and mangled beyond recognition, their smoking hulks lay sizzling just four meters away. They were lying in a pool of their own fluids.

"D-did I do that?" Palpatine asked, breathless. Sweat rolled down his face.

Plagueis, who himself had been thrown to the ground, stood and brushed himself off. "Indeed, you did. That was very, very impressive," he said as he looked around the chamber. There was a small crater where his new Apprentice stood and small bits of droid debris were imbedded in the nearest wall. "There was no control, no focus, but given the circumstances," he motioned around at the demolished droids crumpled on the floor, "it worked."

Despite his extreme exhaustion, Palpatine managed a sly grin. "Can you teach me to do that again?"

Plagueis slowly raised a spidery hand, palm up, and the droids rose effortlessly from the floor, dripping fluid. He made a fist and their broken mechanical bodies were crushed into a ball, floating a meter off the ground.

"That, and so much more," he said, his own grin parting his thin lips. "In time, you will learn to wield the Force the way a master sculptor wields a hammer and chisel." He let the droids fall to the ground with a dull clang.

Palpatine approached his new master. "Good," he said. "I assume I have passed the test, Master?"

Plagueis' smile faded. "The true test will be your training. You have earned my respect, but we still have yet to see if you pass the test of time."

Palpatine's shoulders drooped, disappointed at his master's words.

Seeing this, Plagueis hardened his gaze. "A Sith is never discouraged," he barked sharply. "You must use the disappointment you feel to fuel your efforts. Prove to me that you will be the great Sith that your potential holds. Do not look to me to hold your hand."

"So what was this, Master, if not a test?" asked the young man, taken somewhat aback by the change in Plagueis' temperament.

"This was a lesson, which you have learned marvelously whether you know it or not," answered the elder Sith.

"Which was?" asked Palpatine, allowing a touch of impatience to creep into his voice.

"That a Sith is never unarmed. Even when seemingly vulnerable, we are a force to be reckoned with and should not be underestimated. With the power of the Force at our command, physical threats become insignificant." Plagueis led them back to the turbolift. They made the trip back to his apartment in silence. Upon reaching the top level and exiting the lift, Plagueis stopped Palpatine with a hand.

"You must go now," he said. "Go back to your flat and consider what you have been given. Here," he pressed his thumb to the wall and a small compartment slid open, revealing a pyramidal crystalline device of some kind. "Take this holocron. It is a repository of Sith knowledge. Study it. Listen to its teachings. Return here at the same time tomorrow night and we shall get started with your training."

Plagueis handed Palpatine the holocron and ushered him back to his speeder. For the entirety of the long flight home, Palpatine's thoughts were wild and excited. He knew that when he woke in the morning, he would discover that it had all been a dream. He would see Damask at his campaign headquarters and he wouldn't be a Sith. He would be an old Muun running for the Coruscant seat in the Senate. But if this was all just a dream, he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he could. So, for the first time in his life, but not the last, he simply didn't sleep that night.

When he got home, he placed the holocron on his sitting room table and stared at it for a while, unsure of what to make of it. It was 01:00 by the time he was able to quiet his thoughts and he reached out and picked it up. It was heavy, seemingly made of several layers of clear crystalline sheets, a faint glow shown in the heart of the fist-sized pyramid. Harsh glyphs were etched into its surface. He traced the outline of one with a finger and suddenly, the inner light flashed bright red. A grainy holographic figure materialized above the apex of the pyramid.

"I am Darth Lycan," it said in a harsh growling voice. Though details were difficult to make out in the tiny holoimage, Palpatine recognized his species; a Shistavanen.

"Within this holocron, you will find my teachings of the Force, my secrets collected over my many decades, and the fatal weakness of the Jedi.

"What is it you seek, young Apprentice?" it asked.

For a moment, Palpatine said nothing, then realized that the image was talking to him.

"I would like to know more about the Dark Side, Master Lycan," he said awkwardly. He had never spoken to a hologram before. Not one that didn't have a living being talking back, anyhow.

"The Force is an all encompassing energy field which saturates all matter in the galaxy. It emanates from all life forms but does not depend on living matter to exist. The Force can also be absorbed and stored by inanimate objects or locations.

"For many thousands of years, those who have wielded the Force have been split into two distinct factions: The Jedi and the Sith. Since the very first beings heard the whisperings of the Force, they have divided it into two aspects: a Light Side and a Dark Side. The Jedi swore long ago to devote themselves to the Light Side of the Force, dubbing themselves 'Knights of the Republic and Servants of the Light.' They branded those aspects of the Force which contradicted their beliefs the 'Dark Side.' Those who practiced the Dark Side were expelled from the Jedi Order and exiled from the Republic.

"The fallen Jedi who followed the Dark Side found and conquered an ancient civilization who called themselves the Sith. Over the centuries, these practitioners adopted the name for their order, in direct opposition of the Jedi Order.

"Many wars were fought, many lives were lost on both sides. And why? Because both orders ignorantly believed that the Force could be divided into two coherent pieces, two sides of a coin.

"The Force cannot be so easily broken. The Force is not a coin. The Force is one unified power. The two orders shared their greatest weakness. In following but one 'side' of the Force, they willingly walled themselves off from half of the potential power within them.

"My teachings revolve around the belief that one cannot ever achieve their fullest potential until they have mastered the Force in its entirety.

"Those powers which have been dubbed Dark Sided rely on powerful emotions, emotions which the Sith alone were willing to harness and use. Anger, hatred, passion, the Jedi fear these powerful emotions. But if they ever wish to truly be the power they claim to be within the universe, they must embrace their fears. In order to be a wise and powerful Sith and a strong leader for the galaxy, you must embrace a larger view of the Force."

Palpatine listened closely. "And how do I actually use the Force? I wish to move this datapad," he said, holding it out for the Sith Master's holo to see.

The image of the wolfman looked at him a moment, as though it were sizing him up. "Close your eyes and empty your mind."

Palpatine did as he was told. He took a deep breath and allowed his mind to drain of all thought.

"Now you must feel the object with your mind. Focus on it," he instructed. "Can you picture it in your head? Can you feel it with the Force?"

The young man concentrated for a few moments until finally, he gave up. "No," he said disappointedly.

"Do not think of moving the object with your mind. You must imagine the Force is an extension of your hand. Reach out and grasp it. See yourself picking it up and moving it."

He sighed. "Alright," he said. "I'll try."

"No!" the Shistavanen snarled at him. "Trying to win the battle will lose you the war. You must do!"

Palpatine was taken aback at being scolded by the image of a long dead Sith Lord. "Wise words, Master Lycan," he said uneasily. "Alright, I will move it." He closed his eyes again, emptying his mind of all but the datapad. Picturing the invisible hand of the Force moving towards the datapad, he formed fingers, which wrapped around the object, held it firmly. Then he "lifted." He felt the datapad leave his hand as he held it motionless in the air above his palm. He opened his eyes and saw it hovering. He concentrated harder and steadily managed to begin a slow rotation along its horizontal axis. It was shaky, wobbling severely at one point before he regained control. Finally, he allowed it to set back down in his hand. He had done it! The act had taxed him, though. But, it was a start.

"I did it, Master Lycan!" he proclaimed excitedly.

"I suggest practicing your control before proceeding any further," it said. "A journey of a thousand kilometers begins with but a single step." Without warning, the image blinked out and Palpatine was left in silence.

For the rest of the night, until the first rays of dawn peeked in through the blinds, he conditioned his mind. He went over the exercise over and over again, perfecting the exact mental steps it took to touch the Force and move objects. By the time day broke and sunlight streamed into his apartment, he had mastered the technique. While unable to hold an object for long, he could now at least detect things with his mind and physically grip them with the Force. He had actually succeeded in lifting his sitting room table a few centimeters off the floor before the strain became too much and he was forced to drop it. He hoped his new master would be proud.

He brewed himself a pot of caf and poured a cup. He drank it straight. Without sweeteners or cream, it was strong and bitter, but he didn't care. He'd exerted a lot of energy over the night with his exercises and didn't have the time to sleep before he needed to be at Damask's office. The election now was just days away. The home stretch. If Damask won, which popularity polls showed him to be well ahead of the other candidates, Palpatine would surely continue to be his aide, perhaps even his deputy senator. Even with this new secret career as a potential Sith Lord, he still held the ambition of someday becoming the Supreme Chancellor. What better position to wipe out the Jedi than right under their very noses and right above them on the chain of command?

He poured himself a second cup of caf, downed it fast, and rushed out of the apartment. He jumped into his beat up speeder and raced off toward his destiny.

Damask sat in his office, enveloped in his large comfortable chair and half hidden behind his enormous hardwood desk. A golden statue stood in the corner, a shadowy figure in robes holding a sword. He told people it was an ancient Tiionese warlord when in reality, it was the Sith Lord Darth Andeddu, whose power was so great, he continued to reign as a Dark Lord even after his physical body had expired and begun to rot, using the Force and his will to keep it animated. Darth Andeddu was the inspiration for Plagueis' experiments to prolong and even create life through the Force. For years, he had been working on discovering the secret. He knew that his new Apprentice would give him the strength he needed to break through the last veils of mystery surrounding immortality.

He had begun his quest for the secret of Life shortly after his master, the Bith Sith Lord Tenebrous, had met his…untimely…end. Plagueis had killed him with ease while they sparred. But afterwards, he began to be haunted by terrible dreams of his own death. He was terrified of the ease at which even a skilled master such as Tenebrous had fallen and vowed to find the solution to that problem. His labors had taken up decades of his life, but the secret was now just outside his grasp. He had managed to resurrect a dead hawkbat on several occasions. He was developing a certain degree of direct control over midi-chlorians, the tiny beings which resided in the cells of all life and allowed a fortunate few to hear the call of the Force. If he could exert complete dominance over them, he was confident that he could instruct them to not only reverse death, but prolong life indefinitely and, indeed, even create life.

Unfortunately for him, the only Sith teachings which delve into immortality rely solely on spirit retention after physical death and the transference of one's consciousness into a waiting body. But what Plagueis was searching for wasn't a way to cheat death, but rather to stop it cold, to hold it at bay forever. As far as he knew, he was the first in the order to travel down the path which he'd uncovered.

He was a member of the new Sith. After Darth Lycan had taken the title of Dark Lord of the Sith, he began to steer the order back toward the vision laid out by Darth Bane, whose tenets proclaimed that the Jedi could only be destroyed through deception and manipulation. The Sith would bring the order to its knees, of that Lycan had no doubt. But like Bane, he knew it would be much more subtle than an open war. And so, he began reshaping the order to achieve Darth Bane's glorious vision. Now, more than two hundred years later, Plagueis was passing on those same teachings and was at last grooming the final Sith in the line, the Sith who would bring down the Jedi. Plagueis was sure of that. Darth Lycan had been right. There would be no outward war on the Jedi. They would not be defeated with the lightsaber, but with the pen. If he could groom Palpatine to realize his dream and become Supreme Chancellor, that would be the end of the Jedi. A Sith commanding them as the head of the Republic would be so unexpected, they would have no clue of what was happening to them until it was too late. To defeat the Jedi, the Sith must wield political power as they wield the Force. It was the only way to destroy them since they had become so hopelessly entangled in the politics of the Republic since Ruusan. Despite counting some of the most powerful Jedi in history amongst its current membership, the Jedi Order had never been weaker or more vulnerable to just this sort of attack.

His ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of someone outside his office. It was Palpatine. His presence in the Force was positively glowing now. And, if possible, he felt an increase in power since the night before. At the very least it was much more finely honed. The young man's thoughts definitely seemed more confident, more controlled. He has found focus, Plagueis thought to himself. The boy is a prodigy.

Plagueis stood and straightened his clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fine fabric. He made his way to the door, put on the face of Damask, and stepped out of his office to begin his day.

Palpatine was just sitting down at his desk when he saw Damask leave his office across the room. When they made eye contact, they each offered the other nothing more than a polite smile and a head nod of greeting. There were scant few other campaign volunteers present. But he couldn't risk telling his Master of his quick advancement with anyone around. No matter. He was going back to his master's apartment later that night. He could tell him then. He was excited to formally begin his training.

As was always the case when one was looking forward to something in the evening, the day wore on like a sick bantha, slow and torturous. There was very little left to do. With the election now barely a week away, there were no more rallies to be had. The one the previous day had been their last chance to get the word out. Now, it was all contacting potential voters and reminding them of the polling times and places and of Damask's key points. Basically, it was the mind-numbingly tedious work that everyone knew would come at the end but dreaded every day until the time came.

But, despite the tedium, he kept the faintest shadow of a smile on his face throughout the day. Since the previous evening, he had felt powerful. But not in the Force. While true, he now felt the Force very strongly, this new strength had given his self-esteem a sudden boost. He felt like he could accomplish anything he put his mind to. All self-doubt had vanished. Damask would be a Senator. And he would see to it that Palpatine followed in his footsteps. He couldn't explain how, but he saw all the pieces in play, saw how they fell into place. He knew they would succeed. That was what got him through the day, kept his demeanor pleasant while repeating his spiel to dozens of voters.

As the day was winding down and Palpatine was shutting down his terminal, he felt a firm grip on his shoulder.

He turned, startled, and stared into the eyes of Damask—of Plagueis—his master.

"Sir," he said, refraining from addressing Muun as "master" around the office. "You startled me."

"A Sith must never allow himself to be caught off guard," he said in a hushed tone.

"Of course, sir. I'm sorry."

The alien squeezed Palpatine's shoulder painfully. "A Sith shows no regret," he proclaimed.

Palpatine stood, shrugging out of Plagueis' grip. "Then I am not sorry, sir," he said coolly, his tone not betraying the anxiety he felt confronting his new Master in this way. "My senses are not yet trained and I had no means of knowing you were there." He looked his master in the eye, hoping that he had given the correct answer. Damask returned Palpatine's gaze, a cold hard stare. But after a moment, his lips parted in a smile.

"Excellent, you are learning." He removed his hand from the young man's shoulder and straightened his back. "Come. The election is beyond our hands now. We have several days during which time we can focus on beginning your training."

"I am ready, sir." To anyone who may have overheard their conversation, it would sound like an over confident man counting his mynocks before they hatch, promising to share his yet-to-come victory with his protégé. Little would they know that these two men were about to set into motion events that would change the galaxy forever.