Senator Palpatine punctuated his latest speech by again condemning the events in his home world and the Senate's languid response to the crisis; he did little to measure his words as he openly called out his peers and urged them to right their wrongs. Once finished, his repulsorpod returned him to his Senate box accompanied by scattered applause, yays, nays, indignant grumbling, and chastised silence. While the Chommell Sector wasn't of any importance to Coruscant, the scandalous nature of the entire ordeal fattened the media vultures: a beloved Queen missing, dubious corporate takeover, legal loopholes, ineffective Republic response, the failing of the Jedi, a full-scale ground battle, and even rumours of an insurrection. Inflammatory publications were being issued faster than the Senators could argue and shift blame amongst themselves. Reporters had approached thousands of politicians for their stance and Palpatine himself was hounded near constantly.
The vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum was a delicious dessert unto its own. Before the resolution of the 'Naboo Debacle' — as the media now referred to it — the Senate resorted to its usual brand of inaction when Queen Amidala put forth the motion. Consensus was that the situation was blown out of proportion; it was all posturing and the majority banked on a settlement being reached in no time so the unimportant world could be swept under the rug and they could move on to more important matters. When the impasse escalated into an invasion and annexation, suddenly there was an armed conflict far too close to the Core for the Senate to be comfortable with — not to mention how the home of a frontrunner for the Chancellorship was under direct fire. It was a fiasco. All eyes were on Naboo and, despite the dire situation, some still held out hope for a miracle. That notion was shattered once the Jedi's report of what transpired was revealed to the rotunda: two of theirs were killed, an ancient enemy of the Republic resurfaced, and the planet's Monarch was missing. Any chance there still existed for the event to fade quietly from the public consciousness evaporated. After the initial round of bickering had passed, and the politicians were done trying to save face, they all agreed in a rare moment of unity to antedate the election. A provisional date for it was set for a month or two from now which was a quick turnaround for a decision of such magnitude.
Palpatine slumped in his seat with a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead as he attempted to drive the utter bore that yet another day of nothing but drivel caused to his mind. The election couldn't come any sooner as he was eager to cull the vast majority of these useless slobs that populated the Senate. That would be a cause for celebration and no small amount of satisfaction or, at the very least, it would ensure some measure of peace for his sanity. Despite the careful veil he maintained to mask his presence in the Force, he could still feel the melting pot of bitterness that permeated the Senate; how his words both galvanised certain parties and increased the selfishness of others. Such dissent was a delight.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Speaker?" Palpatine said without lifting his gaze as he felt the arrival of Mas Amedda.
"Peace, Senator. I only wish to talk." Amedda said with hands spread out.
Palpatine raised his head to take in the new arrival: the Chagrian was tall and light blue-skinned, with two large and straight horns atop his head which mirrored the two lethorns at each side of his head that pointed downwards. He wore more elaborate and finely embroidered Senatorial robes than most of his peers, signifying his position of relative import as the Speaker and Vice-Chancellor. Palpatine locked eyes with the man and felt his mental wards tremble slightly, at this Palpatine let a wry smile stretch on his lips and then pressed a hidden switch to activate a privacy shield around their repulsorpod.
"What is it, old friend? You look tense."
"The fallout of the Trade Federation takeover is more vicious than I could've imagined." Mas Amedda said as he took a seat next to Palpatine and fidgeted in place as he attempted to curb his nervousness. Despite the privacy shield, his eyes darted around in search of spies.
"Worry not. To always be prepared for the worst, expect the best, and plan for both is elementary. The media will always be sensationalist to draw as much of the masses as possible; this level of pushback was anticipated and it changes nothing." Palpatine said in reassurance.
"Are you unconcerned that Naboo's defeat might have tarnished your reputation before the Senate?"
"I have been nothing but a champion of both democracy and my people and have sagely advised the former rulers on numerous occasions. Besides, I was quite vocal against the Trade Federation's dubious practices." Palpatine said with a grin.
"Please, I hope you haven't forgotten that I helped you strip Valorum of power and that it was I who got you into contact with my allies on the Trade Federation's board of directors. Your Grand Plan would've been years away still were it not for me."
"What a forgetful fool I am; that completely slipped my mind. Perhaps I should send you a gift basket with wine to show my gratitude for your contributions." Palpatine said with extra theatre and a smile. Mas Amedda chuckled at Palpatine's remark before he straightened his back once more.
"What of Amidala?"
"There's still much to be gained through using Her Majesty as an asset. Gunray assured me that she has been taken care of." Palpatine said. Gunray had pushed his luck with the way he conducted his business on Naboo, but not even he would be foolish enough to let such a valuable asset as Padmé Amidala go to waste.
"Good. I take it you are pleased and thus the hegemony of the Trade Federation as the leaders of this budding Separatist movement is cemented."
"Naturally." Palpatine mentally scoffed at this notion. The Trade Federation was useful insofar as their considerable resources were concerned. Who is at the head of the Separatist movement was of little concern when he'd be the one to orchestrate their movements from the shadows.
"Are we to let news of the Separatists begin to circulate?"
"Not yet. There are a few pawns that need to be moved into position beforehand and Gunray's stunt needs to blow over first," Palpatine needed to ascertain his control over Gunray and initiate his contingencies regarding Plagueis before he could safely proceed with the next phase of the Grand Plan. "But soon."
A silence descended upon the pair for a few minutes as each contemplated the future in accordance with their personal agenda. In the meantime, Senator Bail Antilles stepped up to address the chamber with his brand of vitriol in regard to the election and Naboo.
"Teem and Antilles will be your main competitors for the Chancellorship." Mas Amedda said.
"Antilles is an idealistic fool and does not have the political savvy to navigate the intricate web of the Senate; I believe he will step down from his position before the year is out. Teem is formidable and cunning, but the Rim Faction is fledgling at best and they do not have enough influential members in their ranks to secure the election outright. To sway voters in his favour, Teem will need to build alliances and sell several promises. Seeing as the Trade Federation recently gained some unexpected political capital, I want you to ingratiate them to the Rim Faction and use your spies to relay their movements and whom they approach for support back to me."
"Consider it done."
Both men paused to clap politely as Antilles finished his address. Palpatine deemed he had remained in the Senate for an appropriate amount of time and excused himself from Amedda's company. He had other, more private business to attend to.
The trip to his suite at 500 Republica was uneventful besides yet another barrage of media vultures once he left the Senate. He entered his residence, breathed deeply, then ordered his secretary to bring him a meal for later and dismissed him. Palpatine enjoyed this little slice of private life; it was one of the few locations he allowed a sliver of his tastes to shine through the carefully crafted mask of the austere politician who's not too concerned with material goods. A mask he perfected and wore effortlessly meant to trick everyone from opponents to allies and assets, much like Plagueis.
He had a fondness for swoop racing and shah-tezh that he liked to indulge in from time to time — or when there were adversaries that could provide a worthy challenge — and he also wasn't afraid of some recreational gambling. Palpatine was a lover of music too as evidenced by his mastery of playing the Xantha bass. A prestigious and select circle of individuals also knew him to be a patron of the arts, and he often hosted small gatherings where his guests imbibed from his curated bar filled with bottles of exquisite vintage and quality. Some even knew that Palpatine's suite was the locale for some of the most debauched parties in all of Coruscant where many vices were freely indulged.
Palpatine made his way to his office which he kept much more utilitarian than the rest of his abode. There, he placed his hand upon a biometric scanner hidden in the wall that verified his DNA signature. With the authentication confirmed, the highest of security measures were activated to completely seal the room he was in from any possible intruders and spies. Even then, Palpatine was careful to stretch his senses with the Force to envelop the entire building and the immediate surrounding area of the complex to make sure there was no undue scrutiny on his person. Besides the usual paparazzi that were an ever-present spectre looming over virtually every politician in an attempt to capture a particularly salacious or scandalous image that could be their big break into journalistic stardom, the room was secure.
The Senator donned his Sith robes and sat behind his desk. There he performed another biometric check before he began a holocall that pinged for but the briefest of moments. Soon enough, the visage of Viceroy Nute Gunray appeared on the holoprojector atop his desk and he looked rather pleased with himself.
"Ah, Sidious. It is with great satisfaction that I tell you the acquisition of Naboo was a resounding success. Our plan worked flawlessly and this outcome is a great boon to the Trade Federation and our dreams of a powerful Confederacy."
"The plan called for a measure of restraint, Viceroy. You were not meant to alter the deal."
"I consider myself an accomplished businessman. You see, whenever an opportunity to maximise my gains presents itself, I take it — be they rival corporations or entire planets. Naboo is but the latest prize in a long list of deals and the crown jewel of my tenure as Viceroy, wouldn't you say?" Gunray said as he brushed an imaginary speck of dust off of his cloak.
"You overstep your bounds. The original deal was restrained for a reason: to allow further manoeuvring in the shadows — and you knew of this. With your stunt, you incurred the ire of the people, who are demanding both the Senate and the Jedi exact justice. They will place you and your Federation into further scrutiny and you ought to pray their investigation uncovers nothing. This is a needless complication that should have been avoided." Sidious said as he practically snarled at the self-aggrandising posturing that Gunray was currently engaged in.
"The Jedi are toothless and the Senate is spineless. I have outwitted them both and the value of the Trade Federation to the galaxy makes me untouchable. You should be grateful that I've gone to such great lengths to strengthen our powerbase by this much."
Sidious bit back a retort and swallowed the desire to send his apprentice to kill this simpleton at this very moment.
"What measures have you taken to safeguard Amidala?"
"Yes, yes, she is safe as per your request… mostly." Gunray said with a grin, "I have placed her under house arrest and she is being constantly monitored by a full array of security and spy droids; there is no way she can escape Theed."
"Excellent, she could still be of use." Sidious said and he did not bother to hide how pleased he was. Amidala was a bright child with potential for a prolific future in politics. If he played his cards right, he could have an invaluable tool that could easily be slotted into either the Separatists or the Republic to further his own goals.
"Although I must confess that I don't know why you are so interested in the former Queen. She is just a girl and clearly not as pivotal to us and our plans as the Trade Federation." Gunray said haughtily.
"Do not discount Amidala nor presume yourself to be irreplaceable, Viceroy. You remain as head of the Trade Federation because I allow it and you best remember that lest I send my apprentice to be rid of you with as much fanfare as snivelling, despicable worms such as yourself deserve." Sidious said as he sent a directed, albeit small, pulse of the Dark Side to Gunray. It finally dawned on the Neimoidian that he had displeased the Sith Lord and his countenance changed entirely to a more subservient one. His next words were quieter and meek.
"B-but I did as you asked, I just thought—"
"Silence! It seems I am not clear enough for your diminutive brain to comprehend. You would have been ousted as Viceroy by the Directorate long ago had I not eliminated your rivals and secured your position; you lie in a bed of Onderon silk because of my benevolence. I do not need you to think, only to follow instructions. So cease any delusions of grandeur that you harbour and know your place for I am not issuing a request nor a mere suggestion. I order you to maintain your backroom dealings to a minimum; the Federation needs to avoid suspicion for now while we recruit allies to form the core of the Separatists and I will not tolerate further blunders. You must also keep an eye on Amidala and make sure she's free from harm because I have plans on how to use her. Should you continue with your streak of insubordination then I shall find a replacement at once and the celebration of his promotion to Viceroy will happen over your corpse! Now begone!"
With that, Sidious slammed his fist on the desk and severed the connection. Sometimes a bit of theatre went a long way for intimidation. Truthfully, the presumptuousness of Gunray did little to damage his plans as both he and Plagueis had already sent feelers to other parties for adherence to the Separatist movement and many showed interest. What was needed was for the Trade Federation to negotiate the arrangement in a more official capacity so the organisation had due legitimacy and all Gunray's stunt did was push back the timeframe for now. It's a regrettable development that could have been avoided but what's done is done.
Perhaps he should expedite his decision to replace Gunray as the figurehead for the Separatists with someone more competent before long, regardless of his results. Amidala would be a prime candidate as she's gullible, and trusting, and Sidious had manipulated her before to great effect. She would need a new powerbase to leverage her position and show her worth, but it shan't be too difficult for one of the systems interested in the Separatist movement to want to get their hands on such a captivating personality. Amidala could then be placed as their spokesperson and, in time, be framed as the leader of the entire movement. That would be the preferred course as her charisma, and what she went through, could be portrayed as a symbol of perseverance and resilience which would sway the masses — they would love her. Meanwhile, he and Amedda would corral the politicians within the Senate to set up the board accordingly. Amidala's mind is her greatest asset, however, so he would need to be careful when breaking her down under his thumb; some remnant of willfulness would be desirable.
Now, that was for later. There were more pressing matters to deal with.
Sidious had lost his appetite and returned the meal his secretary had prepared for him. He also told him to cancel his remaining appointments for the day and instructed him that he was not to be disturbed. Afterwards, Sidious made his way to his private garage and boarded an airspeeder designed to be as inconspicuous as possible so he could leave his residence unmolested. He fed the coordinates of Sector 943 to the autopilot then his eyes scanned the Coruscanti skyline as the craft took him to his destination.
It did not take long for Sidious to know he was nearing his destination. The more orderly and pristine areas of the Senate District gave way to the exhaust towers and manufacturing plants of Sector 943 — The Works. An overcrowded and filthy den of the rejects and undesirables of Coruscant who scraped by on meagre salaries that were often only the meals they ate. A cesspool in the heart of the galactic capital and the perfect place to hide, second only to Nar Shaddaa. Sidious turned off the autopilot and weaved between the sprawling web of piping, factories, buildings, and walkways as he dove deeper and deeper into the sector. Soon the sky was blotted out by machinery and man-made constructs and he relied on his mental map of where he needed to go.
After a few more minutes of flying, Sidious was met with the unremarkable sight of the LiMerge Building. Once the headquarters of a weapons manufacturer, it fell into disrepair and was left forgotten as BlasTech and other companies overtook them in sales. It appeared modest in size but, in actuality, it had several underlevels and it was attached to a forge that Sidious managed to get into working order autonomously with the use of droids. It also possessed robust security systems that would have activated several hidden laser turrets if an approaching vessel failed to supply the required access codes. He set the airspeeder down on a landing pad in front of the main entrance and made his way inside.
Despite the lack of manpower in the building, it was well-maintained thanks to the fleet of droids and they paid no mind to a robed man walking its lengthy halls. He boarded a turbolift and descended to one of the many sublevels. Once he stepped out he was met by a spacious hall that had been converted to a sparring ring if the scattered remains of destroyed Duelist Elite droids were anything to go by. Sidious stretched his senses and he felt his apprentice off in one of the attached chambers.
The door opened with a pneumatic whoosh and Sidious entered Maul's private quarters. Much like the Zabrak, it was spartan, with only a bed, a refresher, a clothing rack, and his trophy wall. Said wall held items of his many conquests and feats, with Sidious having personally sent him to accomplish every one of them — its latest addition was the simple yet elegant cylinder of Qui-Gon Jinn's lightsabre. Sidious regarded it curiously; it wasn't uncommon for Sith to take pride in their victories but Maul often felt the Jedi were beneath him. To find Qui-Gon Jinn's lightsabre here was unexpected. In the centre of the room, his apprentice sat in deep focus in the middle of a meditation circle with the pieces of a new sabrestaff floating before him.
Sidious decided to not disturb him until that task was done and instead took the time to analyse his figure clinically: the damage dealt to him on Naboo had been healed by days in bacta, minus a bit of scarring and a missing horn. His torso was currently disrobed and drenched in sweat; it would seem Maul wasted no time in creating a new weapon after crafting the required crystals. The creation of synthetic crystals was an inherently laborious process and Maul particularly enjoyed being involved in it. For his first weapon, he spent three days before a furnace — the intense heat of which not even ferrocrete could contain. It was in those conditions that he poured every ounce of intent and anger into the shaping of the crystals that would power his instrument of war. Never once had his focus faltered nor could it if he desired a perfect weapon and, to Maul, anything short of that was unacceptable.
Sidious was sure that his apprentice had repeated that very same process flawlessly once more and a grin spread on his face as he approved of Maul's diligence. The Zabrak assembled the weapon with precision and, once finished, he stood then activated his sabrestaff to perform a few velocities. This was more a matter of habit than necessity as Maul had made sure thrice over that the sabrestaff would be balanced when complete. Although, he would admit to be surprised when the Zabrak split his sabrestaff into two separate single-handed lightsabres and went through some Jar'Kai velocities before he attached them back together with a flourish.
"Good, good. It pleases me to see you back at full strength, my apprentice." Sidious said when Maul finished his movements. At his words, the Zabrak shut off his sabrestaff, turned to face Sidious, then dropped to a knee.
"I live to serve, my Master."
"Rise, Darth Maul. Your victory struck fear into the hearts of those pathetic Jedi and it proves I've appraised your worth accurately. It would also seem that Naboo was a fruitful endeavour for your skills with the blade." Sidious said with a toothy grin.
"Qui-Gon Jinn was a fierce adversary. I had scoffed at Jar'Kai before for I deemed it too predictable and unrefined but… in the hands of a true master it is formidable," Maul had to restrain himself from touching the shaved off horn, "I would be a fool to not learn from my encounters."
"Indeed. However, I have come to learn of a graver peril than the Jedi." Maul locked a puzzled gaze at his Master as he failed to fathom an enemy more dire to the Sith than the Jedi.
"There exists a Sith Lord — an impostor and a false practitioner — skulking in the shadows. His cowardice had kept him hidden from my sight but no longer; I have felt his presence in the Force. His emergence is an affront to the Rule of Two and he can only mean to usurp me. He must be eliminated."
Maul felt unbridled rage boil within him. The reason for it was two-fold: one is that he pitied the fool that dared rise against him and his Master, the other is that he suspected this pretender was someone related to Sidious. He had long had this inkling of doubt that his Master was not the only Sith in the galaxy; regardless of what the Rule of Two would lead one to believe. The galaxy was simply too vast and too much knowledge was left buried, waiting to be found, for there to be only two. Perhaps this could even be Sidious' own Master and only now did he decide to make a move against him. Nevertheless, Maul respected his Master greatly and felt if he proved his loyalty beyond question it would guarantee his place in the Empire to come. He silently swore the most painful of retributions and that nothing would stop him from reaching his goal for power.
"Give the order and I shall rid the galaxy of the false Sith at once."
"Patience, my apprentice. While your exploits are many and your powers great, they are not enough to vanquish this interloper. He is no Jedi, but rather someone well versed in the Dark Side, and thus more powerful than any foe you have ever faced."
Maul bristled at the words, while Sidious grinned internally. He had felt Maul's conviction and his words spun an image of the grandest of prizes — of the final obstacle to overcome in his quest to attain ultimate power. If there was any suspicion before that Maul might betray him in the future, that was now erased and replaced with the singular desire to surpass his Master's expectations. Sidious had to restrain himself from smiling at the delicious irony that Plagueis could serve his plans in this fashion, even if said plan was borne out of necessity. If the need to rise against Plagueis were ever to come then Sidious needed to gather powerful followers to stand at his side, and Maul would be the first.
"While it is true you are not powerful enough to face this foe, you will be. Your latest victory on Naboo has shown me that you are ready for the next step in your training. I shall impart upon you the darkest, most secret, and most powerful of Sith arts and elevate you to heights you had never before thought possible."
"When do we begin?" Maul said with eyes that burned with determination and excitement at the prospect of becoming an even greater Sith. Sidious raised his hands and channelled a strong surge of Force Lightning that easily struck Maul. He had not expected it and was soon writhing on the ground as his attempts to not scream were in vain and a raw howl escaped his throat.
"Immediately." Was all Sidious said as he redoubled the onslaught of Force Lightning and his maniacal cackling echoed through the LiMerge Building.
Darth Plagueis was thoroughly annoyed. The contents of his archive that he spent decades carefully curating and indexing on Sojourn had evaporated during the latest assassination attempt over a year ago. Only a fraction of all the knowledge he had amassed in his life survived and he had to catalogue what remained manually. It was a tedious process, but a necessary one, as he needed to ascertain what sort of gaps of information there were so he'd know what to procure. How he had been ambushed at his private retreat still puzzled him and the fact it was an eventuality he hadn't planned for embarrassed him; something he could never confess to Sidious. Fortunately, his apprentice seemed to have believed his blasé attitude to the whole affair which kept him from inquiring further.
The loss of Sojourn was not a complete write-off, however, as several artefacts and various other items of interest and power were recovered or salvaged. It was mainly everything not within the vaults burrowed deep in the moon that was lost. There were Sith holocrons, weapons, and maps, along with records of his research into immortality — all of which survived. Many relics of the Great Hyperspace War also survived along with a few codices and Banite artefacts, all of which he safely stowed away.
"Will that be all, sir?"
The mechanical voice pulled Plagueis from his thoughts and he turned his head to regard his companion. He was a protocol droid — designated 11-4D — who had served Plagueis loyally for decades. Originally a medical droid, his arms had been retrofitted many times over and he currently sported four of them. His head was rounder than most other protocol droids and his shell was made of a durable alloy.
"Yes, FourDee. Return to your duties and leave me be for now."
Plagueis said with a wave as he turned to regard the pitiful remnants of his archives. The Muun combed through the information it did contain but found that it was lacking. There was nothing in his possession that shed light to the possibility of beings borne purely through the Force. He had posited it was possible and he was convinced both he and Sidious were close to accomplishing that very feat many years ago but it would seem they were one of the few who had tried, or at the very least, none before had bothered to record their attempts.
The Sith then moved on to the matter of Anakin Skywalker. Now removed from that sudden encounter, he took into account what he managed to ascertain more carefully. He knew an untrained Force-sensitive could dampen their presence in the Force, as Sidious himself was very adept at doing so subconsciously. What surprised him was the extent of cloaking that the Human child had achieved. Through direct contact, the perception one has of the Force gets magnified and, if one took into account the disparity of experience between him and the boy, then it should've been impossible for Plagueis to not have felt anything. It was as if it either wasn't there or it was so dense in the Force that it made peering into it exceptionally difficult.
He pondered whether such skill was merely a natural affinity or genetics. Perhaps Tatooine was a planet oddly attuned to the Force and it produced exceptional sensitives? Were there such vicious predators in its biome that the Humans there evolved to possess considerable skill in Force cloaking? No, that was a ludicrous notion. If Tatooine was indeed such a planet then the Jedi would have brought the dust bowl into its fold long ago — much like how they had Dorin, Mirial, and Haruun Kal. There had to be something else inherent to Anakin Skywalker, but what? He would need to investigate further; perhaps a second attempt at sensing the boy would yield better results. Now that he knew what to expect from it he would not be caught off-guard. For now, he needed better sources of information as his archive was naught but useless. There was a deep frown set on the Muun's brow when his thoughts were interrupted by a message on his communicator.
"Apologies, sir, but you are being hailed." FourDee said.
"Direct it into the office; I'll be there shortly." Plagueis said, then made his way to the aforementioned room where he did not need to wait long before the holoprojector connected the call and displayed the visage of his apprentice.
"Pardon the intrusion, Master, but I bring news from the Jedi Temple." Sidious said.
"Let's hear it then."
"The Jedi diplomatic envoy sent to Naboo has returned and I have on good authority that the boy has been taken in to be trained by the Jedi."
"And? We both knew that would be the case. Either provide useful information or leave me to my work."
"His Master is Mace Windu."
Those words gave Plagueis pause. Mace Windu was the second most powerful Jedi in the whole of the Order and a man not to be trifled with. Even if Plagueis was confident in his abilities and felt he could defeat the Master of The Order, he knew better than to assume the result of a confrontation was a foregone conclusion. Hubris was the most cruel of equalisers.
"That was a possibility." Plagueis said in a careful but curt tone that he hoped would convey that he had predicted this outcome.
"What is thy bidding, my Master?"
"Your instructions remain the same as before, Sidious: maintain your distance and observe. Anakin Skywalker being instructed by Mace Windu only reinforces our need to have it away from the Order. Now that we know who the boy's Master is, and are aware of his capabilities, we may plan accordingly and then strike when the time is right; not a moment before lest we succumb to an error of judgement."
"As you wish." Sidious said with a slight bow and severed the connection.
Plagueis steepled his hands and mulled over this information. Mace Windu was Master of The Jedi Order which meant both he and Anakin Skywalker would remain in the Jedi Temple for the foreseeable future. Thus, any possible move against it would be suicidal unless if he was in possession of an army capable of killing Jedi. Even then, Coruscant would have ample warning of their arrival and his forces would be intercepted before any serious threat could be levelled against the Jedi proper.
Therefore, the only alternative was to force them to leave.
The Muun rose from his seat and made his way to the cockpit of the ship he was currently in, and owned. The events on Sojourn taught him that a fixed base was nothing but a target; it was best to travel light and remain mobile. He had approached Reith Sienar — one of the foremost ship designer geniuses in the galaxy, and CEO of Republic Sienar Systems — to commission a vessel some time ago but the needs of the present expedited its creation. A blank cheque was all it took for Sienar to build him this heavily customised Heavy Corvette in record time: it was sleek and silvery, with a transparisteel windshield tinted red, and two swept-back wings. He took inspiration from Maul's Scimitar and asked Sienar for this ship to also be outfitted with camouflage technology and a considerable array of armaments: concealed turbolaser cannons and proton torpedo launchers for offensive action with auto-turrets for countermeasures and ablative plating. There were quarters for himself and a few passengers and two-thousand tonnes of cargo space. A Class 1.5 Hyperdrive propelled the vessel, and one of the stipulations was that it must require only a small crew to function which Plagueis staffed with droids for added security.
Plagueis would have liked to christen the ship with the same internal development designation the project had been filed under at Republic Sienar Systems — SP-37C — for he was not one for sentimentality. However, much to his dismay, a callsign for docking transmissions and hailing was required. Ergo, the name 'Venturer' was chosen. Once sat in the cockpit he altered the ship's transponder to mask his signature and inform any eavesdropper that this was a harmless passenger vessel then initiated a holocall.
"Magister Damask, it's been quite a while. It's good to see you again."
The person whom Plagueis contacted was his Muun compatriot and pupil, San Hill. He was a bright young man and head of the InterGalactic Banking Clan whom Plagueis helped mentor in his public persona of Hego Damask for years after Hill's father died. It happened during an attempt on Plagueis' life by Maladian assassins when he and the Order of The Canted Circle were gathered for Larsh Hill's initiation. There were no survivors while Plagueis lost parts of his respiratory tract and jaw and was forced to wear a respirator ever since.
"Likewise, San. I'm sorry if I've pulled you away from your duties."
"As if! Things have been so dull ever since you stepped away from the limelight to the point I almost wish a bubble would burst just so there's some excitement to be had again. If I have to answer any more nagging from a trillionaire because our interest rates were readjusted by point-one-two percent I swear I will freeze their accounts for a week. Where are all the high-risk dealings and hostile takeovers anymore?"
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Plagueis said with a chuckle over Hill's antics. "Listen San, I have a favour to ask," that perked the banker's attention and he nodded for Plagueis to continue, "I owe a debt to an important individual — who shall remain anonymous for reasons I'm sure you can infer — since he helped me when I was in dire straits years ago and now he has come to collect."
"I doubt it's credits as you'd have no issue paying." San said with a frown.
"Quite. What my… colleague wants is to locate someone; a slave to be precise."
"That'd be difficult seeing as records of slaves are sparse at best and nonexistent at worst. What's so special about this one specifically?"
"My creditor has a particular fondness for this one slave and he's come to learn they've been separated from their family. As a kind reward for years of good service, he wishes to reunite them. Sadly, he does not know where they are — well, that's not entirely true. He does know they're likely on Tatooine."
"Wait a second, that's Hutt Space. You want me to look for a single slave in the one area that has the highest concentration of slave trafficking in the entire galaxy by a wide margin? Controlled by a species that does not so much as deign to ask where said slaves have come from before adding a price tag and selling them?"
"If that wouldn't be too much of a hassle, yes." Plagueis said and had the decency to pretend to be sheepish. San Hill spent a few moments in silence before he ran his hand over his face and sighed in exasperation.
"The things I do for you, Mr. Damask. Alright, fine. Do you at least have a name or a description?"
"She's a Human mother with the family name of Skywalker and likely nearing their species' equivalent of middle age at this point. I'm afraid that's all the information I can provide."
"That's better than nothing I suppose. I'll contact the Hutts but they won't be forthcoming nor part with this information cheap, I'm to believe you'll incur those expenses?"
"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. Only… do try and keep this hush-hush — it's meant to be a surprise. Also, please keep me posted of any updates to her whereabouts if you'd be so kind; my creditor would be delighted."
"I can't promise it will be quick but I will do my best. I think the Desilijic wouldn't be opposed to a deal. Is that all?"
"Yes, that's it. Thank you San, you're a lifesaver. I'll be sure to secure private box tickets to the Galaxies Opera House next time you come to the core in return. Sadly I have to cut this reunion short as I'm about to enter hyperspace, goodbye."
With the holocall ended, Plagueis opened the astrogation computer and inputted the coordinates for one of the many caches of knowledge that he knew to still be scattered around the galaxy. He would visit them all if he had to in order to elucidate the conundrum that was the supposed Chosen One. The computer whirred and beeped as it accepted the string of numbers then the ship steered in the programmed direction and the hyperdrive propelled the Venturer to its first destination.
Korriban.