Chapter Seven
The Shape of Things to Come
The Institute of Applied Science had been an unknowing beneficiary of Damask Holdings for decades. As far back as the last years of his apprenticeship under Darth Tenebrous, Plagueis had foreseen that the Institute might be a wellspring of talent from which his plans for the galaxy might be able to draw capable – and, if they were kept in the dark, perhaps even willing – participants. Consequently, the Institute had seen its budgets rise steadily for some forty years, and that had allowed it to extend its reach far beyond the Core and bring in gifted staff members from places that it would never have been able to search before.
Plagueis's insistence, therefore, that he be the Supreme Chancellor who attended the Institute's annual gala dinner was met with little resistance by Darth Sidious, who had pressing matters of his own – Sith business in his case – to attend to on Vjun. Knowing that Jedi would also be present, Plagueis cloaked himself in the mundane sphere and strode into the hired dining hall with an accompaniment of the new Red Guard flanking him and 11-4D by his side. As he entered, the gathered attendees stood and every eye was fixed on him.
"Chancellor Damask," said the Institute's Duros chief, extending a grey hand which Plagueis shook. "Welcome. You honour us with your presence."
"Your invitation was an honour in itself, Doctor Ferrugh," Plagueis said. "I have long admired the work that the Institute of Applied Science undertakes."
He cast his gaze around the room, and took in the variety of species that made up the Institute's membership. Humans were most in evidence, but there were also Neimoidians, Rattataki, Twi'leks, Togruta, Miraluka, Ongree and a host of others that made the Institute seem to be almost a microcosm of the galaxy.
Plagueis was shown to his seat at the centre of the top table, and food was brought out and set before the diners. Helping himself to fresh fruits and vegetables, which he ingested by means of a hatch in his transpirator mask, Plagueis fell into relaxed conversation with Doctor Ferrugh about the Institute's projects, both those currently being undertaken and those that were being planned pending additional funding. Funding which Plagueis was secretly confident the Institute would one day discover from its anonymous backer.
"We are currently looking into the feasibility of major, ground-breaking research into the field of crystallography," the Duros scientist said excitedly. "Yes, I know what you're thinking Chancellor," he said with a laugh before Plagueis had a chance to respond. "It is a well-covered topic, not least by the Jedi Order. But I am confident that there is something fundamental in crystallography which other researchers – including and perhaps even in particular the Jedi – have overlooked."
Plagueis was genuinely curious. "What would that be, Doctor Ferrugh?"
Waving a self-deprecating hand, Doctor Ferrugh said, "I confess, Chancellor, to having a poor understanding of crystallography myself. It's not my area at all. But we do have here at the Institute a brilliant young professor, just joined us last year."
Half-standing from his seat, the Duros called to a young Human who was in conversation with an Ithorian whom Damask recognised as a prominent expert in the field of planetary magnetics.
"Galen! Galen!"
The Human looked over and then excused himself from his companion, abandoning his dinner but bringing his glass of Cerean wine. When he reached them he extended a hand to Damask, who shook it politely.
"It's an honour to meet you Chancellor Damask," the man said, inclining his head as he spoke. "Galen Erso, at your service."
"A pleasure to meet you, Professor Erso," Plagueis replied. "I am told that you are something of an authority on crystallography."
Erso smiled in mild embarrassment, though it was plain that he himself agreed with the assessment of Doctor Ferrugh.
"Galen is not just a crystallographer," Doctor Ferrugh said enthusiastically, tapping the young man in the chest with an index finger. "He is quite the polymath. Mathematics, physics, engineering, nothing seems to be beyond his mental faculties. Tell us, you speak how many languages, Galen?"
"Six," the young Professor Erso answered. "As well as Basic I am fluent in Mirialan, Huttese, Bith, Ryl and Falleen."
"And tell the Chancellor how many languages you are currently learning," Ferrugh said, the light of excitement by proxy in his eyes.
"Four more," Erso answered. "The doctor here is teaching me Durese, and I have smatterings of the Naboo dialect, Ithorese and Muun."
"Muun?" Plagueis said, the note of interest in his voice real. He switched to the language to say, "How are you finding the language of my people?"
Erso frowned, paused for a moment and then said in Basic, "I think I understood about eighty percent of that, Chancellor. But I'm afraid that my knowledge of your native tongue is not yet enough to be able to converse with a being born to the language."
Plagueis widened his eyes. "Regardless it is rare indeed to meet a being of such varied abilities," he said in genuine compliment. "Especially in one so young. Forgive me, Professor Erso, I am not particularly well-versed in Human physiology. But I would be surprised if you were any older than thirty standard years."
Erso smiled again, that same look of embarrassed agreement. "Twenty-four," he said. "Twenty-five in three standard months."
Plagueis was surprised by Erso's youth relative to his capabilities. A being such as this was a rare thing indeed, and if Erso's mind, faculties and research could somehow be turned toward the furtherment of the Sith's eventual goals then it was possible that he would have a greater role in shaping galactic history than the young Human had ever dreamed of.
"And what is this element of crystallography that the Jedi have overlooked?" Plagueis asked. "Please, Professor Erso, explain the science to me as though I know nothing on the subject."
"I believe," said Galen Erso without further hesitation or preamble, "that the Kyber crystals that the Jedi use to power their lightsabers are even more energy-rich than anyone has ever suspected." The Human scientist appraised Plagueis for a moment. "Pardon, Chancellor, but how much do you know about energy?"
Plagueis was in fact well-versed in many aspects of science, not least that of Kyber crystals, but he decided to keep such details to himself and to instead play the role that Erso and Ferrugh were expecting.
"It can be neither created nor destroyed," he answered slowly. "But beyond that I am little better than ignorant."
Galen Erso raised a finger as though to make a point. "My research, Chancellor, has shown that Kyber crystals are capable of breaking that fundamental law of reality. They can create energy, seemingly indefinitely, if properly acted upon by outside stimuli."
Plagueis was disappointed, though not in Erso personally. The young man was plainly brilliant, it was merely a question of steering him in other, more beneficial, directions.
"We have detained you from your dinner and conversation long enough, Professor Erso," Plagueis said, shaking Erso's hand once again. "But I do not think this will be the final time we speak to one another."
Erso thanked Plagueis for his kind words and rejoined his Ithorian friend. Plagueis turned to Doctor Ferrugh.
"How did you acquire such an impressive mental specimen?" he asked.
"He has glowing references with regards to his intelligence and abilities as far back as his school days," Ferrugh answered. "One might call Galen Erso a diamond in the rough."
"How so?"
"He comes from Grange, a world that few beings have heard of and even fewer have any desire to visit. It is –"
"I am familiar with Grange," Plagueis interrupted the Duros.
Doctor Ferrugh smiled forcedly. "Forty years ago, the Institute would have never been able to recruit him. Grange is not a world that is on the priority lists of many interplanetary bodies, especially those with limited budgets. But for the past few decades our credit balance has remained healthy thanks to some wealthy and influential backers."
Plagueis feigned curiosity. "Could you tell me who these enterprising beings are?"
Ferrugh blew out a sigh of long-standing disappointment. "Alas not Chancellor. The credits simply appear in our accounts monthly, and we have been unable to ascertain their source. Of course, my predecessors in this post, as well as our accountants, tried to investigate the matter thoroughly."
Plagueis gave Ferrugh a frown. "And they failed to discover who had been channelling credits to the Institute?"
"They concluded with almost irrefutable certainty that they did not come from any criminal organisations," Ferrugh said in a tone that Plagueis might have called placatory, as though Ferrugh had just realised that speaking to a Supreme Chancellor of the Republic – and one who had been a well-known financier at that – was not strictly speaking in his best interests. "We are not being funded by Black Sun, Chancellor, or by Jabba Desilijic Tiure."
"I am gratified to hear it," Plagueis said. "Well, as long as the credits are coming from a legitimate source it is hardly worth looking a gift guarlara in its maw."
"My sentiments precisely," smiled Doctor Ferrugh, and the two of them clinked their glasses together.
"Did you record the conversation, FourDee?" Plagueis asked the droid when Ferrugh had vacated his seat and moved off to join a group that included a Kaleesh, a Zabrak and a Rodian.
"Yes, Chancellor," the droid answered. "Every word is logged."
"Excellent," Plagueis said.
Ferrugh was a being who was utterly without consequence, and Plagueis could sense all too well the Duros's lack of scruples. While that was an admirable trait, indeed one which the Sith had taken to its final logical extreme, it also made for poor partners. And based on his meeting with Galen Erso, Plagueis was already formulating plans for the future of the Institute of Applied Science.
Plans which did not include Doctor Ferrugh.
Vjun was a planet perpetually soaked in rain so acidic that it had prevented the growth of any significant plant life. Its surface was brown and barren, and the only lifeforms that managed to call it home were extremophilic and limited in number.
That the desolate world had once been home to an advanced civilisation in the centuries before the birth of the Republic was a fact that most in the wider galaxy were completely unaware of. But the ancient Sith, dating back as far as the time of the first Sith Empire of King Adas, had studied the species that had given the world its name in detail, and even many centuries after their extinction the Sith still found themselves drawn to Vjun.
Perhaps it was a lingering attachment to the strong Dark Side resonance of the planet, but to the mind of Darth Sidious as he looked out from one of the balconies of the ancient fortress known as Bast Castle, it was more to do with Vjun's remoteness and effectiveness as a hideaway from the eyes of the wider galaxy. Jedi seldom visited Vjun, and when they did they never left the planet again.
"This will be your home now," Sidious said to Sly Moore as the two of them stood beneath a durasteel awning that protected their heads from the lethal rainfall. "It is not much to look at, but you will be safe here. Maul will not be able to find you, I promise you that."
Moore smiled broadly in great relief. "Thank you, Lord Sidious," she said. "Will I be alone here?"
"At first, yes," Sidious said to her. "But this will make you all the stronger. You will learn self-reliance and strength in isolation. In time others will join you here, and you will be the first among them. My Dark Side Adepts."
"Your apprentice."
The word was said with a note of expectation, and Sidious scowled at Moore for the first time. She recoiled slightly, sensing the irritation and suppressed anger within him. She had sensed it immediately upon their meeting, of course, and she had been by turns wary of him and desperate for his attention and approval ever since.
"No," Sidious answered her bluntly. "My pupil, yes. My agent, yes. My tool, even, yes. But not my apprentice. Not yet, at any rate. Perhaps, one day, if you prove yourself to me sufficiently …"
He left the thought hanging in the air, knowing that it would provide the Umbaran with all the motivation she would ever need to carry out his commands and be ever loyal to him.
"Sidious," Moore began.
"From now on you will address me as Lord," Sidious corrected her. "Or master, or Darth Sidious. If you are to be my pupil, Moore, you will also be my subordinate. That is the way of the Sith."
Moore bowed her head. "As you say, master."
"What did you wish to say to me?" Sidious asked her, looking away as he spoke, casting has gaze back out across the Vjun wasteland beyond the fortress.
"When will my training begin?" Moore asked.
"It already has," Sidious told her without looking at her. "The isolation in this castle, the hostility of Vjun, the necessity of survival despite both of these challenges, this will be your first test in my service. It will be difficultly passed and easily failed, but should you still live and breathe and retain your sanity when I return, I believe that that will be a signal from the Dark Side that you can indeed be trained." He turned to face her again. "The way of the Dark Side – of the Sith – is difficult. Far more difficult than that of the Jedi. We know what it is to feel loss, to hurt, to be consumed with fiery rage at the galaxy and its injustices. And yet this is what gives us strength."
Neither of them said anything for long moments as the rain hammered audibly on stone and metal.
"Peace is a lie," Moore said eventually.
Sidious looked at her in genuine astonishment.
"Where you did hear that phrase?"
"I have searched for the Sith before," said Moore. "When I was young, on Umbara. Peace is a lie," she said again. "There is only passion."
"Through passion I gain strength," Sidious said in answer, reciting the ancient Sith Code whose origins were so old that they had been lost to time. "Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken."
"The Force shall free me," Moore finished.
Sidious raised an index finger, as though a teacher in a classroom of younglings.
"The Dark Side shall free us."
Moore knelt before him, the first time she had done so. "As you say, my master." She looked up at him with something akin to a plea in her large white eyes. "How long will I be alone here?"
"A standard year," Sidious answered without emotion. "Perhaps longer. You will have no contact from me until I return. You will be completely on your own."
For a moment a look of fear and trepidation crossed Moore's face. Then she annihilated it and her face set into a look of grim determination.
"I was lone in the cave for months," she said. "Here, at least, I will be able to breathe."
Sidious bristled. "This will not be easy," he warned her. "Vjun is not a forgiving world, and you may find yourself without food or even water for days, even weeks at a time. Remember the Force, my pupil. Remember the Dark Side."
"I will put my utmost faith in it, master," Moore said.
"The wrong approach," Sidious admonished her. "Do not think of the Dark Side as a friend to rest your weary head on. It is a wolfish predator, and if it senses any weakness in you it will claim you as its own. Perhaps you will die, perhaps you will be driven mad, but if you allow it to the Dark Side will take you." He looked Moore straight in the eyes once more, and locked her with such a fiery gaze that the Umbaran began to quiver with fear. "That is why you must break it, make it your creature, command it through the power of your will. That is the way of the Sith, Moore."
She nodded. "Then that is what I will aspire to."