Darth Sidious postured upon a posh, circular meditation chair. Black garments rested against the crimson padding; small breaths rushed across his soul; a brooding, raven cowl covered face and head, folding his hands in his lap. Inside these private chambers echoes from wars, essences past wailed and moaned through the darkness. Recollections of pain and suffering pounded upon Sidious' soul, providing a gleeful smirk. Amethyst crystals glimmered on bronze pedestals marking strategic, sensitive places throughout the room. The crystals echoed and reverberated as if in sync with the Master's spirit. Darkness permeated the room like the blood from a fresh, slain animal to be cooked. A void of sorrow and despair eschewed without mercy over Sidious' being.
His thoughts raced across the galaxy; reaping the plague that his master had sown. Through the darkness, Sidious envisioned greatness. In time, the galaxy would become his toy; to build, reshape and conquer under a Sith Empire. Patience, he excelled in that attribute. It was patience that allowed him to kill Plagueis. It was patience that brought the Republic to war. And, soon, it would be patience that would eradicate the Jedi and the revenge of the Sith would be complete. For now, he meditated on plans and the ultimate fruition of his dream.
Sidious never needed to lift his hands for his bidding to become absolute. He only needed servants. Force-sensitivity was never a necessity, yet it helped. Others would do his bidding believing they were doing good will yet allowing a conspiracy to take fold. It was on this; Sidious meditated.
Rité's fire-shorn hair grazed across Teek's bruised, right shoulder as she padded the left shoulder with cooling packs as careful as a mother's touch.
Purple pulses echoed slightly.
Darth Tyranus, the regal Count Dooku, felt his tremors as the Master focused upon his Apprentice in mutual meditation.
Amethyst vibrations… Fleeting across the galaxy…
Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear; sheared his cerulean lightsaber in battle against the Gen 'Dai hunter named Durge.
Amethyst brightness steadied, illuminating the chambers.
The brunette locks of Senator Padmé Amidala combed into place, a majestic dress flowing over her form as she received a plate of food from her goldenrod protocol droid. A look of concern always saddened her face whenever Sidious gazed upon her presence.
The crystals dimmed to a slight beat.
Darth Sidious wriggled his mental tentacles across the galaxy. Senses flowed into his mind as a river flows across the plains. He pricked at each thought, poking and prodding across the galaxy to events that either happened by chance, or by will of the Force. Sidious allowed his focus to wane from the events of the Jedi generals, to the Naboo students residing upon the Chancellor's abode.
You must begin by gaining power over yourself, then another, then a group, an order, a world, a species, a group of species…finally, the Galaxy itself.
The baritone words of his master, Plagueis echoed across his soul. The Clone Wars were Palpatine's doing yet the work of Plagueis' teachings infected the galaxy via the apprentice. Now Sidious was the master, besting his teacher in his weakest moment. Sidious endured. His cunning malfeasance proved his advantage in the ancient Rule of Two.
He would need an Executor, this much he knew. Maul was a weapon, a weapon of weakness bested by a Padawan learner. Tyranus, cunning and noble, a brilliant strategist however aged could never fulfill the legacy of the Sith. Plagueis taught the art of saving and creating life to his apprentice. Plagueis abided his time, training his apprentice to the perfect form; a servant not for him, but for the greater purpose of the Sith. A Sith to overcome and rule the galaxy for that was Plagueis' legacy.
Out of perfection, Sidious required a match. If he were to be the perfect Master, he would need a perfect Apprentice to fulfill the revenge of the Sith. But an Executor is only a single man of which he could not be everywhere. Sidious had concluded for his Empire, rogue mercenaries trained minimally in the ways of the Force, answerable only to him, would be needed to bribe and intimidate. Teek and Rité had been the ideal candidates.
Teek would need to be pried, bribed into submission. Rité was a willing accomplice. As Sidious regained his focus into the souls of the pair, the Force echoed an ecstatic joy as if the souls had become one; a unity that provided Sidious with a new purpose; a legacy of assassins to become his future "hands", to work the deeds that would need to be acted upon discreetly; of which the Executor's presence would be more high-profile and disadvantageous to secrecy.
Crimson-colored light punctured Rité's backside, exiting through her stomach. A stunned shock echoed upon her face, her eyes filled with a single tear. The odor of scarred, cauterized flesh emanated as the acrid air of war. The light blade retracts from Rité's lifeless body slumping onto the ground. A single tear plops onto her face from another soul as the humming reverberations from the lightsaber pounded as it were the drums of death.
Teek violently arose from his sleeping position, right hand grasping his forehead. E3 whistled softly from the corner. Rité, slightly startled, repositioned in her covers next to Teek. He clutched at his heart upon his bare chest as he slid from the bed, grabbing his jumpsuit on the table outcropping from the wall. Placing his jumpsuit upon his body, he worked his way toward the wash basin opposite the foot locker. Water splashed his face as he progressed toward removing the image of Rité dying at the hands of a Jedi.
If Palpatine's words were true, that the Jedi were meaning to usurp the Senate, then protection of the Senate, the Chancellor, and Rité was a priority. If the Chancellor surely trusted his abilities, he would need to trust the Chancellor. To protect the only woman he knew employing his services to the Chancellor became his only option.
Teek hurriedly dressed into his Academy attire, Rité stirred again, only to wake up from her slumber.
"What are you doing?" She asked eyes squinting as she managed to gather her sight.
"There's something I must do to honor the Republic."
"How do you mean?" Rité began to sit up clutching the sheets to her shoulders.
"I'm convinced that Palpatine means good. I've begun training to work for him, to aide him in eradicating the Jedi threat."
"But, didn't you once believe the Jedi were on the side of the Republic?"
"I once felt that way. Lately, I'm not convinced anymore," his words stammered out of his mouth as he envisioned his new future.
Teek pecked a kiss on her forehead and asked her to return to slumber. E3 chirped a low tone while the doors to Teek's bedroom slid open. Rité caught a glimpse of two clone troopers armored in red-trimmed plasteel while the gateway to the room slid shut. Rité formed a soft grin, her heart racing for a new calling as she heard a familiar voice call her name.
In time, he will be tested…
"Tell me, young Teek, what troubles you?"
Palpatine's words penetrated Teek's young mind as a laser blast to armor. Teek's overnight training drained his energies and his soul as he felt the Chancellor's presence piercing it as a claw to flesh. Sweat emptied onto his brow and soaked his jumpsuit as he positioned motionless on a paristeel chair amidst the Chancellor's private offices.
Palpatine's private office at his retreat was modeled similar to that back on Coruscant, however scaled to a smaller proportion. A holoviewing of a blonde-haired figure in Jedi robes flickered out from the wall a few feet behind the Chancellor's desk as Palpatine's chair rotated to face the young man.
"I… I've trained all night. I've decided that the Jedi are a threat, I want to be part of your New Order."
Palpatine's smirk became a grin.
"Your desire to become one of my operatives is quite impressive." Palpatine rose from his curved-back chair, his ebony robes flowed downward on his feet.
"My Jedi friend, Anakin Skywalker has advised me of the death of the Separatist bounty hunter Durge on Boz Pity. It would seem that the Jedi are resorting to criminals to further their Separatist goals. However, Teek, Anakin is a Jedi that we can trust. He appears to serve the interests of the Republic so as to not allow the Jedi to completely remove our liberties."
The Chancellor continued his way behind Teek, motioning to his Royal Guardsmen to vacate the room. The door hissed open, consuming the blood-robed guards into the hallway.
"There's something more, Teek. You don't need to hold anything back from me. Think of me, as an old friend."
Palpatine's voice recalled to Teek his times with his grandfather; reassuring and welcomed. He slumped in his chair, his mind racing to images of Rité, the visions of the war on Theed, and finally to himself. Teek ruffled his hand upon his dark hair, wiping perspiration. His body quivered, as did his mind and mysteriously he could sense Palpatine reaching into him, probing for some back thoughts that Teek could never even tell Rité.
"I've been having dreams, sir. Dreams of the Jedi murdering Rité, dreams of Sio Bibble and the Queen being captured…but, I was capturing them!"
"Ahh, they side with the Jedi, my friend," Palpatine's aging hands covered Teek's shoulders, patting them softly; "They are not to be trusted. The dreams of the Jedi killing your friend, I feel that the Jedi could be placing thoughts in your mind with their Force abilities. They can mind trick people into their beliefs, hence why they are dangerous."
"I hear that only Force-sensitives can feel others?" Teek asked, "If I have the Force, wouldn't I be dangerous?"
"Perhaps you do carry the ability to feel it, Teek. We can use that to our advantage. If you truly possess that ability, perhaps my trusted Jedi friend, Skywalker could help you in your mission as an operative."
"I support whatever you ask, sir if it helps save the Republic."
Palpatine returned to his chair, glaring at Teek as he answered him. He formed his fingers into a tent in front of his chest.
"Excellent, I shall see to it that your training begins immediately while you are here. Once I return to Coruscant, I will arrange for you to accompany me."
"Yes, your Excellency," Teek rose from his chair, bowing, as he turned to exit. Palpatine's chamber door hissed, revealing the crimson guards as Teek continued his way out. Palpatine's gaze followed the young man, accented by an accomplished grin.