“Why is it that we never see humans competing in the races?” he asked Teem after a moment.
The Gran waved his six-fingered hand in dismissal. “They haven’t the talent for it. The favorite to win today is the Dug at the controls of the blue racer.”
Plagueis tracked the Podracer for a moment. In the stands below him, thousands of Dugs — standing on all four appendages, on hind legs, or supported on arms only — were barking encouragement.
Plagueis found Malastare’s high gravity oppressive, and the Gran more so. They had arrived on the planet a thousand years earlier as colonists, and had proceeded to beat the native Dugs into submission. The protectorate had since grown to overshadow the Gran homeworld, Kinyen, and was a powerful force within the Republic Senate, with wide-ranging influence in the Mid and Outer Rims.
Seated alongside Plagueis, Larsh Hill leaned forward to address Pax Teem. “Perhaps Gardulla will be able to entice humans to pilot Podracers in the course she is refurbishing on Tatooine.”
Teem honked in irritation. “So it’s true: you support the Hutt.”
“It’s simply business,” Hill said.
But Teem was not appeased. “Is this the purpose of your visit — to reopen wounds that have not yet healed?”
“Yes,” Plagueis said flatly.
Teem’s trio of eyestalks swung to him. “I don’t—”
“Don’t compound the offense,” Hill interrupted.
Teem feigned incomprehension.
“From whom did you learn of our interests on Naboo?” Plagueis asked.
The Gran looked to his comrades, but found no support in their abrupt silence.
“From whom?” Plagueis repeated.
A low of resignation escaped Teem. “We were approached by Subtext Mining, following the unexplained disappearance of some of its members — the ones I encountered on Sojourn, I suspect.”
“They were in fine health when they left the Gathering,” Hill said.
Teem nodded. “I’m certain they were.”
“Why did Subtext approach you?” Plagueis said.
Teem hesitated, then said, “To inform us that you are involved in a deal for the plasma.”
“Trusting that you would try to subvert our efforts by making them public,” Hill said.
The Gran snorted. “First you strike a deal with Gardulla that favors Tatooine over Malastare, and now Naboo’s plasma captures your attention, despite your offer to increase the cost of Malastare’s energy exports. So why shouldn’t we have alerted your opponents on Naboo, when you would have done the same?”
Plagueis waited for him to finish, and for a group of Podracers to pass; then he fixed his gaze on the assembled Gran. “You harm yourselves by attempting to sabotage us. The Protectorate could have profited from Naboo, as the Trade Federation will, but no longer.”
Pax Teem’s huge feet slapped the floor of the private box. “We refuse to be demeaned! Again I remind you, Magister, that promises were made.”
Plagueis smiled inwardly. It was true that Tenebrous had had plans for the Gran. At one time Pax Teem had been put forth as someone the Sith could move into the chancellorship and manipulate from a distance into making mistakes that would bring the Republic to its knees. But Plagueis had now begun to explore other options.
“We are not without allies and cronies in the Senate,” Teem was saying in a huff. “We can crush any legislation you wish to see passed, or arrange for your bills and no-bid contracts to languish in procedure for years. We’ll put one of our own into the chancellorship. We’ll deny the Trade Federation shipping rights on Kinyen and along the Trade Spine. We’ll turn the Dugs loose on the Muuns.” He glared at Plagueis. “You’ll never get what you want, Magister.”
“On the contrary,” Plagueis said, as he and the other Muuns were rising. “I already have what I want.”
A rousing cheer went up from the stands as a Toong pilot overtook the favored Dug.
Plagueis turned to Hill as they were exiting the private box. “Order the Sun Guard to retrieve the miners we marooned in the Tingel Arm. Execute them and have their bodies dumped at the gates of Subtext Mining’s corporate headquarters on Corellia.”
A freshly minted Capital-class starship returned Plagueis and Hill to Naboo. Manufactured by Hoersch-Kessel and Gwori, the vessel was shaped like an elongated pod with a flat underbelly. A lateral wing transected the convex hull aft, in which were housed arrays of powerful hyperwave transceivers. On board along with the chief executives of Damask Holdings were several high-ranking members of the Banking Clan, including the nephew of Chairman Tonith, all of them dressed in full IBC regalia.
A month had passed since Plagueis’s initial visit, and in the interim he and Palpatine had spoken by holo on many occasions. The intelligence the human provided, though scant, had allowed Plagueis and Hill to keep one step ahead of Bon Tapalo’s detractors, and as a result he continued to enjoy a slight margin with the electorate.
The Muun groups were approaching Naboo’s spaceport immigration stations when they were intercepted by a contingent of armed security personal wearing leather jerkins, tall boots, and brimmed hats. Ushered into a glass-walled holding area equipped with not much more than benches and refresher units, the Muuns waited for over an hour until two Palace Guards entered, demanding to know which of them was Hego Damask.
After identifying himself and assuring Larsh Hill that he needn’t worry, Plagueis followed the guards outside the terminal to a waiting round-nosed Gian speeder. A uniformed guard seated at the controls ordered Plagueis into the open-topped speeder’s rear bench seat, where one of the escort personnel joined him. He didn’t have a clue as to where he was being taken, but refused to give the guards the satisfaction of telling him that he would soon find out, or words to that effect. Instead he sat silently in the cushioned seat, careful not to register even the slightest surprise when the pilot began to steer the speeder away from Theed and out across the rolling verdant terrain Palpatine had taken him through.
“You may as well make yourself comfortable,” his seatmate said at last. “We’ll be traveling for about two hours.”
Plagueis nodded in response and allowed himself to drift into a light trance, in preparation for whatever lay in wait for him at their destination. Gradually the undulating plains began to rise and a ridge of mountains came into view, limned against Naboo’s brilliant blue sky. The speeder followed a broad river valley into hills lush with foliage, where herds of short-limbed shaaks grazed and frolicked. As the speeder gained altitude, the river narrowed and quickened, fed by waterfalls and crystalline lakes. Pure white clouds were beginning to form at the summits of the higher peaks when the speeder slewed across a vast stretch of meadow and came to a halt in front of a majestic home built in the style of Theed’s fat domes and graceful towers. Two of the guards led him up a wide flight of stone stairs into a cool and dimly lighted foyer. Abandoned there, Plagueis wandered past wall hangings and plinthed statuary to the opposite end of the foyer, where round-topped, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a veranda and a large lake beyond. Seated at a table were an aristocratic-looking female human of middle age and a sulking male youth of Palpatine’s age or younger, engaged in what appeared to be serious conversation. Touched by a breeze coming down off the slopes of the mountains, the surface of the water sparkled like Mygeeto gemstones. As Plagueis turned his back to the lake, his attention was drawn to a tapestry depicting the same family crest he had observed on the pocket of Palpatine’s jacket, and featuring a trio of creatures: veermok, aiwha, and zalaaca.