Darth Plagueis

29: THE FORCE STRIKES BACK




Though the blockade of Naboo had been launched in direct defiance of Republic law—as much a protest against taxation as it was a challenge to the jurisdiction of the Jedi—it failed to achieve the immediate effect Plagueis and Sidious had anticipated. Far from the Core, Naboo hadn’t been invaded, and no important beings had died, as had occurred during the Yinchorri Crisis and at the summit on Eriadu. Thus the blockade was viewed by many as little more than saber rattling by the vexed Trade Federation; an inconvenience to those worlds that relied on the consortium for goods; the latest in a series of confrontations to expose the incompetence of a hopelessly splintered Senate.

Nevertheless, the two Sith had worked tirelessly to make the most of Naboo’s predicament to secure support among Palpatine’s peers, and ensure not only that his name would be placed in nomination, but that he could win if nominated. Equally important, they had to make certain that Palpatine could marshal enough votes in the Senate to ratify his decision to appoint Hego Damask co-chancellor.

For a change, Damask had taken the lead—making the rounds, making promises, calling in long-overdue favors and debts—while Palpatine, for appearances’ sake, made several futile attempts to meet privately with Trade Federation representative Lott Dod. Pestage, Doriana, Janus Greejatus, Armand Isard, and others were also busy behind the scenes, planting incriminating evidence where necessary, and seeing to it that instances of graft were made public.

Their joint efforts did not constitute a political campaign so much as an exercise in elaborate subterfuge.

“Bail Antilles remains the front-runner,” Plagueis told Sidious when he arrived at the Muun’s penthouse. “Ironically, the crisis at Naboo has drawn the Core Worlds into a tighter circle. Where Antilles has always been in danger of being dismissed as the candidate most likely to follow in Valorum’s footsteps, he is suddenly the darling of those advocating for strong, central authority.”

“He can be undermined,” Sidious said. “What about Teem?”

“In addition to the Trade Federation, Teem now has the backing of the Corporate Policy League.”

Sidious remained indifferent. “The Senate is not ready to elect a militant, much less a militant Gran. Embracing the support of the CPL is equivalent to promising the repeal of anti-slavery restrictions.”

Plagueis’s frustration was evident, even if his frown was hidden. “Interest in Naboo is already beginning to wane, and with it the sympathy vote we counted on.”

Sidious had his mouth open to respond when his comlink chimed, and he held the device to his ear.

Plagueis watched him closely.

“That is most welcome news,” Sidious said into the device, as if in a daze. “I didn’t expect this … A good choice, I think … I am certain of it, Supreme Chancellor … Yes, I’m sure she meant every word of it.”

“What now?” Plagueis asked the moment Palpatine broke the connection.

Sidious shook his head in disbelief. “Valorum somehow managed to persuade the Council to send two Jedi to Naboo.”

Despite all his talk about invincibility, Plagueis looked confounded. “Without Senate approval? He tightens the noose around his own neck!”

“And ours,” Sidious said, “if the Neimoidians panic and decide to admit the truth about the blockade.”

Plagueis paced away from him in anger. “He must have approached the High Council in secret. Otherwise, Mas Amedda would have apprised us.”

Sidious followed the Muun’s nervous movements. “Dooku mentioned that the Council would continue to support him.”

“Did Valorum say which Jedi were sent?”

“Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Plagueis came to an abrupt halt. “Worse news yet. I have met Qui-Gon, and he is nothing like some of the others Dooku trained.”

“They are a pesky duo,” Sidious said. “The nemesis of the Nebula Front at Dorvalla, Asmeru, and on Eriadu.”

“Then Gunray and his sycophants stand no chance against them.”

Sidious had an answer ready. “Two lone Jedi are no match for thousands of battle droids and droidekas. I will order Gunray to kill them.”

“And we will have another Yinchorr, and the added danger of Gunray divulging our actions, past and present.” Plagueis thought for a moment. “Qui-Gon will evade detection by the droids and wreak slow but inevitable havoc on the flagship.”

“Then I will command Gunray to launch the invasion ahead of schedule. Protecting the Naboo will become the immediate concern, as opposed to arresting the Neimoidians. Gunray may balk at the idea, but I will assure him that the Republic will not intervene.”

Plagueis agreed. “Amedda can deny any request Valorum makes to convene the Senate in special session. Still …”

They regarded each other in stony silence; then Sidious nodded.

“I will see to it that Maul is ready.”

Plagueis pressed his hands together. “It is the will of the dark side that we finally reveal ourselves,” he said in a solemn voice.


It certainly wasn’t that he didn’t trust Darth Sidious. But Plagueis had never observed Maul at close range, and he was curious about Sidious’s relationship with him. He knew that they had seldom met outside The Works, let alone walked together on a balcony of one of Coruscant’s most stylish monads in the dead of night, wrapped in their cowled cloaks. But it was only fitting that they should finally do so. With 11-4D close at hand, Plagueis stood observing the two of them from afar, his presence in the Force minimized.

The invasion and occupation of Naboo were proceeding on schedule, and the swamps were being searched in an effort to locate and isolate the principal underwater habitats of the planet’s indigenous Gungans, before they could pose a threat. But the two Jedi, Queen Amidala, and her retinue of body doubles and guards had succeeded in blasting their way through the blockade. With Maul’s help, counterfeit messages from the Queen’s adviser Sio Bibble had been transmitted to the missing starship, and one transmission had returned a faint connection trace to the Hutt-owned world of Tatooine. On learning as much, Plagueis had considered asking Jabba to apprehend the Queen, but not for long, out of concern for what the dark side might demand of him in return.

“Tatooine is sparsely populated,” 11-4D said, repeating what the Dathomiri Zabrak was saying to Sidious. “If the trace was correct, I will find them quickly, Master.”

“Go on,” Plagueis said quietly.

“In reply, Sidious is instructing Maul to make the Jedi his first priority. Once Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are disposed of, Maul is to return Queen Amidala to Naboo and force her to sign a treaty that cedes control of the planet and its plasma reserves to the Trade Federation.”

The droid paused, then added, “Maul says, ‘At last we reveal ourselves to the Jedi. At last we will have revenge.’ ”

In the distance, Sidious turned to Maul.

FourDee sharpened its auditory inputs. “Sidious says: ‘You have been well trained, my young apprentice. They will be no match for you.’ ”

The words stirred deep misgiving in Plagueis and he stretched out with the Force, attuned to its swirling currents. Momentarily, the gates that obscured the future parted and he had a glimpse of events to come, or events that might come.

Either way, he was not encouraged.

Had he and Sidious misunderstood? Would it be better to abort the plan and trust that Palpatine would be elected even without having Naboo fall to the Trade Federation? Once the Jedi learned of the existence of one Sith, would they launch an intense hunt for the other?

Sidious had formed an almost filial bond with Maul. Attached to the present, he failed to grasp the truth: that this was the last time he and his apprentice might see each other in the flesh.

* * *

Events were converging rapidly.

Unexpected obstacles notwithstanding, Maul’s tracking skills had led him to the missing Queen. But he had failed in his mission. Despite a brief confrontation with Qui-Gon Jinn, the Jedi Master and his party had managed a second successful escape. The Zabrak hadn’t been killed, as Plagueis had initially feared, but his crimson blade had identified him as a Sith, and now the Jedi, Amidala, and her retinue of guards and handmaidens were inbound to Coruscant in the Queen’s reflective starship. Sidious had ordered Maul to go to Naboo to oversee the Neimoidian occupation.

“Pestage and Doriana have put a plan in place that will weaken the campaigns of your chief rivals,” Plagueis was saying as he and Palpatine hurried toward the skyhopper that would carry them to the antigrav platform on which the Royal Starship had been cleared to land. “Coruscant will soon know that Senator Ainlee Teem has been protecting a Dug who is deeply involved with Gardulla the Hutt and the Bando Gora’s death stick distribution network.”

“Another favor from Jabba?” Sidious asked.

“The Hutt has become an ally,” Plagueis said.

“With Black Sun headless, he’ll have free rein over the spice trade.”

“For a time,” Plagueis said. “The information about Senator Teem has been sent to Antilles, who has been trying for years to have him removed from the Senate. When the corruption inquest is announced, Teem’s support will disappear. And so will support for Antilles, whose ambitions have blinded him to the fact that no one in the Senate wants an overzealous reformer in the chancellorship. The Rim Faction will then flock to you, in the hope of being able to manipulate you, and the humancentric Core Faction will back you because you’re one of their own.”

Sidious regarded him. “Were it not for you—”

Plagueis waved him silent and came to a sudden halt.

Sidious walked a few more steps and turned to him. “You’re not going to accompany me to greet the Queen?”

“No. The Jedi are still with her, and our joint presence might allow them to sense our leanings.”

“You’re right, of course.”

“There’s one more issue,” Plagueis said. “The Naboo crisis has finally caught the fancy of Coruscant. If we could force a similar crisis in the Senate, your election would be guaranteed.”

Sidious thought about it. “There may be a way.” He looked hard at Plagueis. “The call for a vote of no-confidence in Valorum.”

“If you—”

“Not me,” Sidious cut him off. “Queen Amidala. I will fill her head with doubts about Valorum’s inability to resolve the crisis and fears of what Trade Federation rule would mean for Naboo. Then I will take her to the Senate so that she can see for herself how untenable the situation has become.”

“Grand theater,” Plagueis mused. “She’ll not only call for a vote of no-confidence. She’ll flee home to be with her people.”

“Where we wanted her to begin with.”


“I trust that the food is better than the view,” Dooku remarked without humor as he joined Palpatine at a window-side table in Mok’s Cheap Eats the following day. A small establishment catering to factory personnel, it overlooked the heart of The Works.

“The Senate is studying plans to develop housing projects in the flatlands.”

Dooku frowned in revulsion. “Why not simply build over a radioactive waste dump?”

“Where there are credits to be made, the lives of ordinary citizens are of little consequence.”

Dooku cocked an eyebrow. “I hope you’ll put a stop to it.”

“I’d prefer The Works to remain unchanged for a time.”

Dooku waved off a waiter and regarded Palpatine with interest. “So, a blockade prevents you from going to Naboo, and what happens but Naboo comes to you. Quite a piece of magic.”

Palpatine showed him a thin smile. “Yes, my Queen has arrived.”

“Your Queen,” Dooku said, tugging at his short beard. “And from all I hear you may soon be her Supreme Chancellor.”

Palpatine shrugged off the remark, then adopted a more serious look. “That is, however, part of the reason behind my asking you to meet me here.”

“Worried that you won’t receive Jedi backing if you’re seen with me in the usual places?”

“Nothing of the sort. But if I am elected, and if you and I are going to begin to work together, it behooves us to give all appearances of being on opposite sides.”

Dooku folded his arms and stared. “Work together in what capacity?”

“That remains to be seen. But our common goal would be to return the Republic to what it once was by tearing it down.”

Dooku didn’t say anything for a long moment, and when he spoke it was as if he were assembling his thoughts on the fly. “With perhaps your homeworld as the spark that touches off a conflagration? Clearly the crisis has benefited you politically, and that fact alone has certain beings wondering.” He scanned Palpatine’s face. “Under normal circumstances, the Council wouldn’t have subverted the authority of the Senate by honoring Valorum’s request to send Jedi to Naboo. But for Yoda, Mace Windu, and the rest, Valorum is a known quantity, whereas Senators Antilles and Teem and you have yet to disclose your true agendas. Take you, for instance. Most are aware that you are a career politician, and that you’ve managed thus far to avoid imbroglios. But what does anyone know about you beyond your voting record, or the fact that you reside in Five Hundred Republica? We all think that there’s much more to you than meets the eye, as it were; something about you that has yet to be uncovered.”

Instead of speaking directly to Dooku’s point, Palpatine said, “I was as surprised as anyone to learn that Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan Kenobi were sent to Naboo.”

“Surprised, of course. But pleased?”

“Naboo is my homeworld. I want to see the crisis resolved as quickly as possible.”

“Do you?”

Palpatine held his look. “I begin to wonder what may have prompted your confrontational mood. But for the sake of argument, let us say that I feel no shame in taking full advantage of the crisis. Would that cause you to distance yourself from me?”

Dooku smiled with his eyes, but not in mirth. “On the contrary, as you say. Since I’m interested in learning more about the possibility of an alliance.”

Palpatine adopted a hooded look. “You’re resolved to leave the Order?”

“Even more than when we last spoke.”

“Because of the Council’s decision to intervene at Naboo?”

“I can forgive them that. The blockade has to be broken. But something else has occurred.” Dooku chose his next words carefully. “Qui-Gon returned from Tatooine with a former slave boy. According to the boy’s mother, the boy had no father.”

“A clone?” Palpatine asked uncertainly.

“Not a clone,” Dooku said. “Perhaps conceived by the Force. As Qui-Gon believes.”

Palpatine’s head snapped back. “You don’t sit on the Council. How do you know this?”

“I have my ways.”

“Does this have something to do with the prophecy you spoke of?”

“Everything. Qui-Gon believes that the boy—Anakin is his name—stands at the center of a vergence in the Force, and believes further that his finding him was the will of the Force. Blood tests were apparently performed, and the boy’s concentration of midi-chlorians is unprecedented.”

“Do you believe that he is the prophesied one?”

“The Chosen One,” Dooku amended. “No. But Qui-Gon accepts it as fact, and the Council is willing to have him tested.”

“What is known about this Anakin?”

“Very little, except for the fact that he was born into slavery nine years ago and was, until recently, along with his mother, the property of Gardulla the Hutt, then a Toydarian junk dealer.” Dooku smirked. “Also that he won the Boonta Eve Classic Podrace.”

Palpatine had stopped listening.

Nine years old … Conceived by the Force … Is it possible …

His thoughts rewound at frantic speed: to the landing platform on which he and Valorum had welcomed Amidala and her group. Actually not Amidala, but one of her look-alikes. But the sandy-haired boy, this Anakin, swathed in filthy clothing, had been there, along with a Gungan and the two Jedi. Anakin had spent the night in a tiny room in his apartment suite.

And I sensed nothing about him.

“Qui-Gon is rash,” Dooku was saying. “Despite his fixation with the living Force, he demonstrates his own contradictions by being a true believer in the prophecy—a foretelling more in line with the unifying Force.”

“Nine years old,” Palpatine said when he could. “Surely too old to be trained.”

“If the Council shows any sense.”

“And what will become of the boy then?”

Dooku’s shoulders heaved. “Though no longer a slave, he will probably be sent to rejoin his mother on Tatooine.”

“I understand your disillusionment,” Palpatine said.

Dooku shook his head. “I haven’t told you all of it. As if the announcement of having found the Chosen One wasn’t enough, Qui-Gon discovered that the Trade Federation may have had the help of powerful allies in planning and executing the blockade of Naboo.”

Palpatine sat straighter in his chair. “What allies?”

“On Tatooine, Qui-Gon dueled with an assassin who is well trained in the Jedi arts. But he dismissed the idea that the assassin is some rogue Jedi. He is convinced that the warrior is a Sith.”


Ignoring the reactions of apprehensive residents and wary security personnel, Plagueis hastened along a plush corridor in 500 Republica toward Palpatine’s suite of crimson rooms. He had planned to be at the Senate Building to hear Amidala’s call for a vote of no-confidence in Valorum, which would strike the first death knell for the Republic. At the last moment, however, Palpatine had contacted him to recount a conversation he had had with Dooku. The fact that Qui-Gon Jinn had identified Maul as a Sith was to be expected; but Dooku’s news about a human boy at the center of a vergence of the Force had come as a shock. More, Qui-Gon saw the boy as the Jedi’s prophesied Chosen One!

He had to see this Anakin Skywalker for himself; had to sense him for himself. He had to know if the Force had struck back again, nine years earlier, by conceiving a human being to restore balance to the galaxy.

Plagueis came to a halt at the entry to Palpatine’s apartment. Eventually one of Queen Amidala’s near-identical handmaidens came to the door, a vision in a dark cowled robe. Her eyes fixed on the breath mask.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, “Senator Palpatine is not here.”

“I know,” Plagueis said. “I’m here to speak with a guest of the Senator. A young human boy.”

Her eyes remained glued on the mask. “I’m not permitted—”

Damask motioned swiftly with his left hand, compelling her to answer him. “You have my permission to speak.”

“I have your permission,” she said in a distracted voice.

“Now where is the boy?”

“Anakin, you mean.”

“Anakin, yes,” he said in a rush. “He’s the one. Fetch him—now!”

“You just missed him, sir,” the handmaiden said.

Plagueis peered past her into Palpatine’s suite. “Missed him?” He straightened in anger. “Where is he?”

“Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn came to collect him, sir. I suspect that you can find him at the Jedi Temple.”

Plagueis fell back a step, his thoughts reeling.

There was still a chance that the Council would decide that Anakin was too old to be trained as a Jedi. That way, assuming he was returned to Tatooine …

But if not … If Qui-Gon managed to sway the Council Masters, and they reneged on their own dictates …

Plagueis ran a hand over his forehead. Are we undone? he thought. Have you undone us?