One to Embody…
Palpatine instantly disliked the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.
The very instant he saw the man called Kalpana seated behind an ebony-colored crescent of a desk, Palpatine sighed and thought himself in store for bureaucratic ramblings. The subject matter was nothing new; Palpatine had heard it in the service of Naboo's King: fixing the system, staying the course, and maintaining an aura of peace for "our children's children."
Indeed, when Kalpana began speaking, Palpatine automatically tuned it out. Occasionally he would reply with a curt—if snide—"yes," "agreed," or something to that effect. But while he disregarded Kalpana, Palpatine focused his interest more on the man standing to the right and a foot behind Kalpana's chair.
A man who, on introducing Palpatine to the Chancellor, identified himself only as Valorum.
He was tall. Statuesque, even. Carried a certain quiet authority with him. Palpatine guessed this Valorum couldn't have been more than his own age. In between Kalpana's ramblings of corruption, Palpatine made a quick mental catalogue of Valorum. Deep set eyes, close-shorn silver hair, and a permanent expression of concern. As if the gods that created him had done so with the express intention of making him a soft-spoken monolith; just saying enough to be personable, and distant all at once. Palpatine called it determination.
Determination was a virtue.
Palpatine's eyebrow arched.
Virtue. Possibility.
Kalpana finally shut up, clasped his hands on the desktop and smiled expectantly at Palpatine.
"So," he said in a thick Coruscanti. "I trust your trip was successful. No problems? Delays? Traffic this time of day can be a bit of a botheration."
"No, Chancellor." Palpatine didn't even bother to look at Kalpana; instead staring just over the Chancellor's shoulder at the setting sun and the architectural angles of the skyline. "No problem. Why?"
"Just curious," Kalpana shrugged. "So why have you come, if you don't mind my asking."
"You're too humble, Your Excellency." Palpatine smiled. "I have come to ask for your patronage."
"Oh?" One of Kalpana's eyebrows arched.
"Yes. As you may or my not be aware, I was a servant under the King of Naboo for some time. I recently left his service to pursue personal endeavours. I deduced that Coruscant was the place to achieve those goals. After all, what is the old axiom? If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere?"
"True enough." Kalpana nodded graciously. "But I feel it requisite to mention—" his voice turned apprehensive and he cocked his head— "that you have breached the, ah, hierarchy. You should have gone through my personal attaché."
"Yes," Palpatine said frankly. "But I need help in the direct sense, Chancellor. I could not wait. And you, Supreme Chancellor, are the only man to whom I can confide safely."
Kalpana sighed and reclined in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He looked away for a moment, and came back to Palpatine. "Convince me."
"Name recognition," Palpatine said plainly. "A simple, unassuming civil servant wins a seat for the Chommell Sector, word spreads that he has been sponsored by the current Chancellor…a powerful celebrity you will become. Until all manner of people come to this august body for advice and patronage. You will be contributing to a system far greater than any mere desk job."
Kalpana examined the trappings of his desk thoughtfully.
The offer was…tempting. Name recognition. The chance to become a household name in nearly every system from the Core to Bothawui. A chance for…re-election. Kalpana stood.
"Surely," he said, "you must know that the Chommell Seat is occupied by one of our oldest members. His tenure surpasses even my own."
"So I hear," Palpatine said, following Kalpana and Valorum down the steps and out of the office. "But the mid-term elections are coming up. A run at his seat could portend some much needed reform in the Senate. And in this office."
Kalpana stopped and crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. Palpatine recognized it as a paltry attempt at looking into a soul. Kalpana possessed neither the strength of character nor the mental capacity to make such judgments.
"My dear boy, you have yourself a deal." Kalpana waved a hand and Valorum stepped forward. "This is my personal assistant Finis. Finis, you'll be working with our friend here."
Valorum gave a small, almost obligatory nod to Palpatine.
Valorum was even kind enough to take Palpatine to lunch at the Menarai. It was not difficult to get seating—despite whatever galactic media said about the Menarai's exclusivity. The Supreme Chancellor often dined there, had his own booth. It was simple for Valorum to say he worked in Kalpana's office. There, over sirloins of Waygu, they discussed Palpatine's pressing election.
"It's simply a matter of time, I think," Palpatine said, sipping wine the color of dark blood.
"You seem dedicated." Valorum's voice was as calm as it had been in the Chancellor's office.
"It's a virtue," Palpatine said laconically. "I prefer late nights to slothing about."
"Agreed," Valorum said dubiously. "So, ah, how does a Naboo like yourself end up in the Core?"
Palpatine cringed at the word 'Naboo.' He was no Naboo, and those who used the term did so out of ignorance. Most people in this universe think exclusively in terms of planetary affectations, Palpatine thought. Fools. The notions of Eriads and Naboo, Corellian and Alderaanian were all….misguided. We're all human. As they are we…we are all together. We are all human. Not Falleen, not Rodian, not Bothan. We are something greater.
We are our own gods.
Thus was Palpatine's thought process as he explained himself to Valorum. "I had resigned my services to the King on the condition that I could travel the galaxy and find more suitable ways to serve. After all, one does not have to be educated to serve. All it takes is a determination. The most serious mind. The deepest commitment. And a certain…appreciation for helping one's fellow man."
Valorum frowned and lowered the Waygu, skewered on a fork, to the plate. "Fellow man?"
"Oh?" Palpatine feigned surprise. Privately, though, Valorum gave the expected response. Valorum's disagreement was more proof that even the smartest were the dirtiest. His calm demeanor hid a great deal, Palpatine sensed.
"If I do say so myself," Valorum said, sipping more wine. "This is but a job for me. I do it because it's what I was trained and educated for. Seems that you do it for the joy of doing it."
"Yes," Palpatine said. He felt no need to hide his zest for the system. "Enjoying life for its own sake."
Valorum shrugged and sipped his wine.
"I want to run for the Senate," Palpatine said, cutting the silence expertly. "That's a way to achieve goals, yes? A way to serve the people."
"From a lofty perch," Valorum jested. "Senators rarely see their constituents, and if they do, it's in a fiercely sterile environment. No chance of closeness with the people one represents. No chance to truly see what they want."
"Then I must decide what they want, if I'm to serve effectively," Palpatine said darkly.
Valorum nodded. "I get the sense you wish to change that?"
"Yes," Palpatine said plainly. "I was firsthand exposed to the corruption in the King's office. The graft. It was obscene. Personal feelings getting in the way of true justice. It's part of the reason I left."
Valorum snickered and cut into the Waygu again. "An honest politician. How many of those have we seen?"
Palpatine shrugged and smiled thinly. "I serve the people, Finis."
"And they in turn serve us." Valorum said and finished the last of his wine. "In any event, I trust you won't be disappointed in the Chancellor?"
"No," Palpatine smiled and lied. "Chancellors are very powerful men. Kalpana will be no different."
"Good. I think His Excellency will be pleased." Valorum smiled. Palpatine repeated the gesture, and swiftly dropped it when Valorum left for the refresher.
He returned to his quarters in The Works later in the night. His master was waiting for him.
Plagueis sat with his legs crossed, perfectly upright, eyes closed, hovering a meter in the air. He was meditating, Palpatine thought. Doutbless, Plagueis had already discovered that his apprentice had returned.
"And?" Plagueis said quietly, eyes still closed.
"We have the support of the Chancellor, my master. Once I am elected I will...take care of him."
"Good." Plagueis' legs extended to the floor and he approached his apprentice. "And Valorum?"
Palpatine was marginally surprised that his master had felt Valorum's presence. Through the Force, beings could sense other places—other people—long gone, or yet to come. Indeed, at the Menarai—even in the company of dozens of other beings with no attenuation to the Force, Valorum had a slight…aura about him. Traces of the light. Kalpana's office had possessed those same traces.
The Jedi had associated with the Chancellor and his compatriots, Palpatine figured. Frequently.
He scowled. And continued.
"Valorum is Kalpana's attaché to my platform. He will help us."
"So certain are you?" Plagueis said, turning away.
"Yes," Palpatine said after a pause. "He will help me, whether he knows it or not."
In an instant, Plagueis shot around to face his apprentice. Bolts of blue light shot from his fingertips, trapping Palpatine in the glowing burn of lightning. He fell to his knees instantly and opened his eyes just enough to see his master. Bearing his teeth, feeding the lightning hatefully.
And the world went dark for a moment.
When Palpatine awoke, he recognized the dark iron of the ceiling. His body ached as he sat upright. He looked ahead, and saw his master standing motionless, just outside a radius of light emanating from the ceiling.
"I shouldn't have to tell you again." Plagueis' voice was calm and cold. Disparaging.
"M...master?" Palpatine asked, exhausted.
"This is not an exercise in friendship." Plagueis said. "This is not meant to be a weekend excursion with your friends. We answer to a higher calling, my apprentice. Not to the weak ambitions of corrupt Senators and bloated Chancellors. You cannot lower your guard, for they are judging you. Watching and judging and sensing your weakness. You must gain power by doing the exact same to them. Think as they do, and you will conquer."
He stepped into the light; the only clue of a man underneath the ebony cloak was a blue-colored chin shaped by a scowl.
"This is an operation between Us and Them. I have told you previously of the legend of Darth Bane, and the Rule of Two. Repeat it."
"Two there should be," Palpatine said dutifully. "No more, no less. One to embody power; the other to crave it."
"Now…tell me, my apprentice. Tell me what you regard as your greatest strength, so I will know how best to undermine you; tell me of your greatest fear, so I will know which I must force you to face; tell me what you cherish most, so I will know what to take from you; and tell me what you crave, so that I might deny you..."
"You…you cannot deny me," Palpatine said, slowly standing.
Plagueis sent lightning again, only by one hand this time and thus less powerful.
"One to embody power," the Master said. "And another to crave it." He flicked his wrist, and a lightsaber hilt slid into his hand. The crimson flame blinked to life, and Plagueis angled it at his apprentice's neck.
Plagueis inhaled slowly.
"You are not meant to make friends in pursuit of the revenge of the Sith. Your purpose is not to reason; your purpose is to do. To act, to think, to feel--as a Sith. As a servant of something far greater than the Force itself!"
Palpatine's eyes rolled in their sockets to meet those of his master, staring right back at him.
Plagueis switched his lightsaber off and slid the hilt back beneath the folds of his cloak.
"Against the power of the Dark Side…none can resist."
Continued...
