Darth Sidious arrived early at the designated meeting-place, a spacious apartment that Shya had rented for him, and now he sat idly in the living-room, letting time run by. He had determined the place and time, and it was at his two visitors to attend and prove their committment. Either one might betray him, if they had but an inkling of who, of what he was. But he had not revealed himself yet, and he was not certain if he ever would let any of the two in on his secrets. His spies on Roa Station had informed him of Count Dooku's arrrival, and he had made a mental note of the man's cautious nature in this endeavour. He had arrived earlier than his summons dictated, undoubteldy to prepare. Of Wu Ziryll there was no trace, and Sidious felt strangely pleased by that. It spoke of the agent's skill, and the Sith Master took pride in efficiency, be it in himself or others who worked for him. If Ziryll proved himself here, on Malastare, he might go a long way in Darth Sidious's service.

There was a discreet buzz, the door-alarm announcing a visitor. Somewhat surprised, Sidious rose from his seat to walk over to the door, but a soft thud from behind, so faint that only a Force-enhanced ear would perceive it, alerted him to the presence on the balcony. Turning back, he looked straight at the armoured warrior facing him through the transparisteel. It was a measure of self-control, that the Sith Master felt barely a whisper of the man's presence. Intriguing. At a gesture of his hand, the balcony door opened, and admitted the Mandalorian into the apartment's fresh, cool air. He gave the man a tight smile, his face concealed by the hooded cloak he wore.

"A dramatic entry," he chided the agent softly, "could well turn into an equally dramatic demise. What if I had thought you a threat? An assassin?"

"You were expecting me, my master," Wu Ziryll answered calmly, his deep voice strangely reassuring. "But won't you let your other visitor enter too? He is waiting in front of the apartment door now, I believe."

Startled, Sidious turned his head to glare at the door, then looked back at the bounty-hunter. "The other visitor?"

"Our paths crossed on the way here, and I thought that perhaps he was also coming to meet you. Therefore I took another way up. I was not certain, master, if you had planned on introducing us to each other."

Dooku was aready here? But their meeting had been scheduled to take place in two days! The faint note of mockery in Ziryll's voice prompted Sidious' temper to flare red hot. "A sharp mind and a sharp tongue sometimes are not as healthy a combination as one might believe," he snarled, and watched in satisfaction, as the Mandalorian's gloved hands came up to his throat, as if trying to dislodge the invisible collar that was choking him slowly. There was a strange sound from behind the helmet's face-mask, and Sidious let go again. "Now that he is here, I shall receive you both. Open the door."

Watching Wu Ziryll go, Darth Sidious frowned darkly at the man's back. He appreciated efficiency, yes, but back-talk and smart-mouth comments would not be tolerated. He could think for himself, and better than this rogue warrior, too. The man was too cocky for his own good... The Mandalorian returned, silently shadowing the tall man entering before him. Count Dooku, a beard adorning his noble features and accentuating his sad, strangely intense eyes, appeared not to be surprised by the bounty-hunter's presence. He gave Darth Sidious an appraising look, then nodded to himself, a small smile appearing on his thin lips. "A cautious ally," he said, his voice matching his majestic appearance. Without hesitation, the Sith Master drew back the hood of his cloak, revealing his face.. "Senator Cos Palpatine," Dooku intoned calmly. "An honor to meet you in person."

"The honor is mine, Count Dooku. Please be seated." Following his own words, Sidious noticed Wu Ziryll taking up position close to the door, facing the balcony, his hands crossed lightly in front of him in a relaxed posture. Listening.

"I must admit your message intrigued me," Dooku explained, "as you could well guess, since I have agreed to this meeting in the first place. You said we had interests in common – yet I cannot see that so clearly, with Naboo's past as one of the staunchest supporters of the Republic."

Sidious smiled indulgently. "The Naboo are a peaceful people, and democracy is the ideal we hold above everything else. Should democracy be threatened, be it from within or without, we do have an interest in common with people who seek to expose tyranny within our own ranks of government. People like you, my lord. The Naboo may be peaceful, but we have made diplomacy our weapon, words our shield."

"Words have power, certainly," Dooku agreed reluctantly, but what if more drastic measure were required?"

"Required for what?"

The count's gaze shifted momentarily, as if he were seeing something beyond normal perception. "The Republic is corrupt, inefficient and uncaring. Its self-proclaimed guardians share those failures. Some people grow discontent with things as they are. They might consider seceding from the Republic, and founding an independent realm, to begin anew."

"I must agree with you here, sadly enough," Sidious purred. "And under whose leadership would such an endeavour be conducted? Yours?"

Dooku gazed at him stony-faced. "Let us not speak of the future, when we both do not know it clearly yet. Fact is, that change is needed. Reforms. The Republic needs to conform itself to the wishes of its people. And this change can be brought about only by those who have the power to do so. Trade networks, conglomerates. The heart and soul of the Republic is trade. Change must be affected by way of money. Credits, Senator. I would like to know your stance on this observation."

Sidious almost smiled. The man was no idealistic fool, that much was clear. On the contrary. Dooku understood the workings of the Republic very well. "What change are you referring to?"

"I still believe in the Republic," the count replied, "but we need new leadership, people who understand the value of flexibility, who can work the Senate efficiently." His gaze sharpened once more. "Are you such a leader, Senator Palpatine?"

The Sith Master looked down at his hands in a humble gesture. "We all try our best to serve, do we not?" he answered quietly. Then he met Dooku's eyes again, adding, "I shall try to prove myself worthy of what dream you pursue. Perhaps we can even make that common dream true one day. I for one would welcome it."

"I appreciate your committment, Senator. You have an understanding for my needs, I believe, and I shall be watching you closely, for a while. As you can well guess, I do have plans of my own. Perhaps, one day, you will share part of them."

"It would be an honor," Sidious murmured, sounding truly stunned.

"And yet," Dooku continued, his tone suddenly cutting, "you surround yourself with vermin." He threw a pointed hlance at the bounty-hunter standing at his back. "The Mandalorians never were friends of any democracy."

"They are nevertheless testimony to the Republic's corruption. And I believe in redemption, personally," the Sith Master explained earnestly. "Wu Ziryll is an adept agent, and he is loyal. Alas, as Senator I do not have ready access to certain cycles that I might need to be informed about. Ziryll is of great assistance there."

"That I do not doubt," the count admitted, but he sounded doubtful. He rose abruptly. "Well, I must say it is always a pleasure to encounter people of like-minded interests. I have long admired Naboo for its unerring stance toward democracy, and I wish that it will always remain a bastion of freedom. We will meet again, Senator, I have no doubt."

"Neither do I. It would be a pleasure."

The two men exchanged more pleasantries, as Sidious escorted Dooku to the door to see him off. Once the Jedi Master had left, he spun around to glare at the Mandalorian, who still stood like a silent statue. "Tell me, Wu Ziryll, do you believe he meant what he was saying?"

"Every word, master."

Sidious gave a low chuckle of amusement. "Fine. Then we shall indulge the good man and prove our worthiness as allies."

"We, master?"

"Oh yes. You did not believe I had summoned you here only to act as my bodyguard, did you?"

"Not one moment."

"Excellent. Then I shall lay out yor assignment in detail, but first," he added, "tell me about your progress in tracking Alamys Jorka."

Alamys hesitated for barely a moment. The advantage he had was, of course, that he knew exactly where his supposed quarry was, so there was no danger of getting caught in a lie. Who was to prove him wrong? Meeting Sidious' gaze through his mask shield, the Jedi Master replied, "He is on his way to the Corporate Sector and I have enough connections there to find him again, once this assignment is finished. He will not escape me."

"Do you have any idea what he might want in the Corporate Sector?"

Alamy shrugged. "Your debriefing only specified his skills as a fighter, not his motivation. As long as I do no know what interest you might have in seeing him dead, I have no clue as to what he might be planning in turn."

"Yes, of course." The Sith Master gave him a curious look. "I want him dead and out of my way. But he is resourceful, and he might try to act against me. You have connections in the Coporate Sector, you say? Perhaps you should set them on discovering his plans there while you are stuck on this mission on Malastare. And you will give me the name of at least one of your contacts. In case," he flashed a cold smile, "this misson turns out to be too much for you."

"It will be as you wish, master," Alamys retorted calmly, bowing his head in acquiesance. He had hoped to draw Sidous out in the open with his plans by suggesting that the Jedi Master might outsmart him yet, but the Sith was too cautious for that. Unfortunately. When he looked up again he found Sidous looking a him placidly, obviously waiting for something. What? He wanted the names – now? Suppressing a surge of panic, Alamys frantically tried to think of someone besides Byrol, who might qualify. "A Devaronian, my partner," he said at last. "I have already sent him ahead, to Weyla, when your call came in." Sidious nodded encourgingly. "The other is a Falleen, a customs officer. He notices everyone who comes in. His name is Bray La."

"Excellent. Then we can proceed to your assignment." The Sith Master took his seat once more, his back to Alamys. "You will not question me, and simply do what you are told, is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear," Jorka replied, feeling just a little bit uneasy. But he had sworn to himself to do whatever it might take, to unravel Sidious' scheme, before he took the Sith out once and for all. It would be so easy to attack now, to take advantage of Sidious' ignorance of who he was. But he could not be sure whether that would be enough. Unconsciously, his hand twitched toward his blaster, but he stopped himself just in time. So easy ...

"Very well. Your presence is almost all that is required. Many still remember the Mandalorian supercommandos, and your appearance will remind them of the Jedi's failure to bring all of your compatriots down. A little sabotage, a few dead, it will certainly convince the local government that the Republic is inept and indifferent to its citizens' needs. Needless to say that you will be listed in the channels afterwards. I trust your abilities to keep you able to pursue Alamys Jorka. This datacard," a flat rectangle appeared in his right hand, "will give you the location and date of the operation."

Alamys took the data in solemn silence, sensing that more was to come. Sidious gazed at him out of keen blue eyes, and another smile was lurking at the corners of his mouth. He had aged, more than he should have, Alamys thought, and there was something about him that the Jedi Master could not quite identify, but it frightened him nevertheless. As if the cunning and cruelty he had witness in the young man he had been had deepened, matured, to a level were malice turned into madness.

"You have done well in the past, which is why you were selected for this task. But know this, Wu Ziryll, I do not take chances. Turn around." Alamys did as ordered, and for the first time he became fully aware of the tiny droid hovering in one corner of the room noiselessly, shaped like a bulbuous lamp. He had seen it upon entering, he remembered now, and had dismissed it again. Now it seemed very menacing indeed. "Do you know what this is?" Sidious asked, as Alamys turned back to face him. A rethorical question. "It is programmed to record the movements of everyone present in this room safe myself. A number of aggressive-behaviour patterns is stored in its memory, and it reacts quite violently. It does also transmit to this screen," he added pleasantly, holding up his hand, where a small, skin-toned rectangle was fixed to his palm. "I do not expect you to care for me beyond the credits that flow into your account on Bespin, my friend. But I do not take kindly to betrayal."

The Jedi Master swallowed hard. "Of course," he managed hoarsely. "I understand."

And now that Sidious had the names of his contacts on Weyla, he would have no problem in tracking his quarry without Wu Ziryll's help. For a moment the immediate future flashed hotly in Jorka's mind. The Sith was planning to sacrifice the Mandalorian and get rid of him at the same time. Whatever the 'operation' that he was to he part of, Sidious would make certain that there was no escape for him. It was in that moment that Alamys Jorka decided that Wu Ziryll would no longer serve the Sith Lord. Once Sidious was away from Roa Station, he would travel down to Malastare, for show, then slip out of the system the first chance he got, to rejoin Byrol, and warn Bray La. Of course, there was the chance that he would reveal his identity to Sidious then, but, knowing the Sith Master, that one would be amused by his enemy's efforts at subterfuge, no more.

"Good," Sidious purred softly, his smile widening as he closed his fingers over the tiny screen. "Now that this is understood, I wish you good luck on your assignment. You may leave."

With a nod and without another word, Wu Ziryll left the apartament, striding through the hallway and to the stairs quickly. He knew that the security cameras were off-line, so he did not bother to hide, but was cautious enough not to take the turbo-lift. He would be trapped in there, should anything go wrong. Besides, walking down the stairs would give him more time to think. Once he revealed his identity there would be no more hiding right under Sidious' nose, the man would be watching for it. Or perhaps not. The Sith was arrogant enough to assume that Alamys would not try the same trick twice. Smiling to himself, Jorka wondered whether that might not be an advantage he could use.

Yes, that sounded about right.

Once the bounty-hunter had left, Darth Sidious sat brooding in the small apartment, trying to mull over the past encounters. Dooku certainly was a promising ally, and the Sith Master did not doubt that in time he could convince the former Jedi Master of his own qualities as ally. The incident he had planned to take place on Malastare would draw the planet's government tightly into his snare, enabling him to unlock the Hutt's crime empire too, with care. He had not been idle since Darth Nexus had passed away, and he had unrelentingly pursued his plans even while apprentice to Roj Kell. And while the former had been the reason for this ambitious project, that would be his life's work, the latter had given him the tools and knowledge to further his plans. Now he only needed to implement them. The only thorn in his side, of course, was the fact that the Force-bedamned Jedi Master Alamys Jorka continued to breathe, despite several efforts at curing him of that particular burden.

And now he was daring to play his own games with the Sith Master, enlisting allies of his own. Wu Ziryll certainly had not realized what warning he had been given, and for whom it was intended. But the Mandalorian, false or real, would undoubtedly report to his master to inform him about the current happenings on Roa Station. And Alamys would understand that Sidious was watching, and not fool enough not to see through his nemesis' web. Had the Jedi truly believed that he could insert an agent of his own into Sidious' network without him noticing? Ziryll's 'success' at tracking Jorka had been pleasantly surprising at first, but on his voyage to Roa Station Sidious had been expecting some doubts as to the man's loyalties. Never let yourself be blinded by good fortune, Roj Kell had once told him. If things are running too smoothly, consider the possibility that someone is actually helping you along. Uncover his motives, only then can you be sure of yourself. It had been far too coincidental that Ziryll had appeared when he had, and that he apparently had no problem tracking a man who had proven to be extremely elusive over the course of years.

Lucky for Sidious that Jorka was apparently growing bolder with age. A curious development, to be sure. He had not expected the Jedi Master to resort to subterfuge and try to strike back at his adversary that way. Well, this game was for two players, and he would certainly not stay idle in forming a response. The first would be to deprive Alamys Jorka of his agents. First this Ziryll, then the Devaronian and the Falleen. Ziryll had already betrayed their location. Weyla, a small planet in the Corporate Sector. Belatedly, it came to him that any operation he conducted in the Corporate Sector at this point in time would prove to be extremely awkward. Especially with a set of allies that was edgy already. His right hand curled into a fist as he grunted his displeasure. Too bad. Then he would have to contend with taking out Wu Ziryll when he could. Preferably before he could contact Alamys.

Rising from his seat, the Sith Master felt oddly disgruntled. Why did he have to do everything by himself? Perhaps it was time he found an apprentice of his own after all.

And so it happened that one of the vilest terrorist acts of recent years was again laid at the Mandalorians' feet. The blast radius of the bomb that detonated in Malastare's most famous racing arena wiped out thirty thousand spectators and all of the thirty athletes assembled there to compete in a celebratory race to honor the economical upswing that had graced Malastare just recently. Of the man who had carried the bomb into the arena only his fire-proof armour was found. The rest of him had disintegrated along with his victims. No one mentioned the presence of a Jedi Master at the arena, and no one had seen his passing at high speed from the complex just before the bomb exploded. Had anyone taken notice of him, though, they would have been able to describe the man quite accurately. No one, at least no human, had eyes like that.

Those eyes, their blue fighting a losing battle against the sick yellow seeping into it, were now gazing at a tired, scarred face in the mirror above the bar, and the owner of those eyes was listening wearily to the recently named Senator of Naboo prattle on about galactic harmony and the need for governmental reforms. It was no surprising in the least that the representative of Malastare was the very first to side with the Nubian. By the time the bar-keeper switched the holovid to another channel, Alamys could be sure that Sidious had scored another victory in his grand scheme. And now he had at least an inkling of what the Sith Lord was planning. A little sabotage and a few dead, he remembered Sidious telling him. Alamys's face twisted in dismay. What a joke. People were calling upon the Galactic Senate to solve their problems, to the Jedi, and if Sidious kept on sowing his little disruptive terrorist acts, covert or not, demands would soar, and soon the government and the Jedi would have to think of new ways to battle the growing darkness.

Unfortunately, his own resources were too slim to affect anything for real. If he became too provocative the Republic itself would be on his trail. But then, he did not really have to go as far as the Republic. A smile appeared on his weathered features, the first one in days, and as he turned on the stool he perched on to look along the other patrons sitting at the bar, Alamys caught the cautious glance sent at him by Byrol. The Devaronian gave him a sickly grin, then turned his head away again. They were here to meet a few representatives of the pirates Alamys wanted to hire. That plan of his was still up to date. It would take some time to gather experience in working with his soon to be crew, to put them through a few maneuvers, a few tests perhaps. But he was patient, and patience always won out. He only had to look to Sidious for example. Raising the glass of Corellian brandy sitting before him, Alamys shot a crooked smile at the holovid, where the Senator of Naboo had long been replaced by a news show, and quietly toasted the Sith Master with his drink. Here's to patience. Let's see which one of us has the longer breath.

TBC