“I passed my tests and trials, but soon after, my father took ill. On his deathbed I sought his advice concerning my predicament, and he told me that I should do whatever I needed to do, as my very survival was in jeopardy. He said that lesser minds needed guidance, and punishment on occasion, and that I shouldn’t hesitate to use whatever means necessary to protect my interests; that I owed as much to myself, my species, to life itself.”
Plagueis paused.
“The cause of his premature death was determined to be a rare genetic abnormality that affected the tertiary heart, and one that all of my siblings had inherited, but I — having been born to a different mother — had not. Panicked by the thought of early death, my siblings launched a galactic search for the finest geneticists credits could procure, and ultimately one surfaced, claiming knowledge of a curative procedure. And so they underwent treatment, each and every one of them — my clan mother included — in full confidence that they had dodged the family curse and could soon return to their primary passion, which was to have me legally ostracized from the family.”
He looked hard at Palpatine.
“Little did they realize that I had hired the geneticist, and that the treatments he provided were as phony as his credentials. And so, in due course, they began to grow ill and die, each of them, as I watched from afar, gloating, even entertaining myself by feigning sadness at their funerals and indifference at the allocation rituals that transferred portions of their accumulated riches to me. Eventually I outlived all of them and inherited everything.”
His amalgam of fact and fiction concluded, Plagueis stood tall and folded his thin arms across his chest. In turn, Palpatine trained his gaze on the gazebo’s wooden floor. Plagueis detected the quiet whir of 11-4D’s photoreceptors focusing on the youth.
“You think me a monster,” he said when a long moment of silence had elapsed.
Palpatine raised his head and said, “You underestimate me, Magister.”
Hanna City Spaceport was chaotic with the launch of starships returning youth program trainees to their near and distant homeworlds. In the central passenger cabin of the Naboo vessel Jafan III, Palpatine and a young trainee from Keren were comparing notes on their experiences during the previous week. On a track to becoming close friends despite their political differences, the pair had segued into discussing Naboo’s upcoming election when a flight attendant interrupted them to say that Palpatine needed to return immediately to the spaceport terminal. The attendant didn’t know who had requested his presence or why, but no sooner had he entered the connector than he recognized the stern countenance of one of the security guards his father had recently hired.
“Palpatine won’t be reboarding,” the guard told the attendant.
Confused, Palpatine demanded to know why he had been removed from the ship.
“Your father is here,” the guard said after the attendant had reentered the starship. He pointed through the connector’s transparisteel viewport to the far side of the field where sat a sleek starship bearing the crest of House Palpatine.
Palpatine blinked in surprise. “When did he arrive?”
“An hour ago. Your mother and siblings are also aboard.”
“They didn’t say anything to me about coming here.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” the guard said. “You’ve already cleared Chandrila customs, so we can proceed directly to the ship.”
Palpatine glared at him. “Just discharging your orders, is that it?”
Unruffled, the guard shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s a job, kid. That’s the long and short of it.”
Surrendering to the inevitable but angered by the sudden change in plans, Palpatine trailed the guard through a maze of similar connectors to one that accessed the family starship. The elder Palpatine was waiting in the entry air lock.
“Why wasn’t I informed of this beforehand?” Palpatine demanded.
His father nodded for the guard to seal the hatch. “Your mother and siblings are aft. I’ll join you there once we’ve completed the jump.” Maneuvering around Palpatine, he slipped into the cockpit. Palpatine turned to the air lock hatch and considered leaving while he had the chance, but ultimately thought better of it and went aft, though into not the main compartment but a smaller one that housed the communications suite. Strapped into an acceleration chair, he stewed through the launch and the jump to hyperspace. Unfastening himself when the ship was between worlds, he stood up and began to pace back and forth in the cabin, and was still in motion when his father entered a few minutes later.
“Our course is set for Chommell Minor.”
Palpatine stopped to stare at him.
“For the foreseeable future, you’re going to be residing with the Greejatus family. Clothes and other items we thought you’d like to have with you are already aboard.” When Palpatine said nothing, he continued. “You and Janus got along well the last time we visited. A change of scene will do you good.”
“You decided this without conferring with me?” Palpatine managed to ask at last. “What about my university courses? What about my obligations to the youth program?”
“That has all been arranged. You can partner with Janus in Chommell Minor’s program.”
“The Greejatus’s hatred of nonhumans meets with your approval, then.”
“Their chauvinism notwithstanding, I approve of them a lot more than I do your current friends.”
Palpatine began shaking his head. “No. No.”
His father’s tone turned harsh. “This is for your own good.”
Palpatine’s nostrils flared. “Father of lies,” he muttered. “How would you know what’s good for me? Have you ever even cared? This is about my friendship with Hego Damask, isn’t it?”
The elder Palpatine snorted in derision. “Is that what you think it is? Damask is merely using you as a means of securing information about our strategies for the election.”
“Of course he is.”
Taken aback momentarily, Cosinga said, “And yet you continue to … befriend him.”
“What you consider the rape of Naboo, I consider to be an essential step forward, and Hego Damask a blessing. He’s powerful, influential, and brilliant — more so than any of my professors. Head and shoulders above you or any of your royal confederates.”
Cosinga’s lip curled. “It begins to sound to me that this confrontation goes beyond mere political differences.”
“You know it does. You’re using the situation as an excuse to put me under your thumb again.”
“Which wouldn’t be necessary if you showed even the slightest ability to conduct yourself appropriately.”
Palpatine sniffed. “My social infractions and trespasses. I refuse to go over old ground.”
“You’re easy on yourself, considering the shame you’ve nearly brought on us.”
“I’ve brought no more shame on the family than you have.”
“We’re not discussing me,” Cosinga said.
Palpatine threw up his hands. “All right. Leave me on Chommell Minor — but I won’t remain there.”
“I can see to it that you do.”
“By assigning some of your musclemen to keep me in line? I’m a lot smarter than them, Father.”
Cosinga made his lips a thin line. “After what you already did to counter our plans for Tapalo, there can be no hint of scandal. Have you no idea what’s at stake for Naboo?”
“And for you,” Palpatine said, with a sly smile. “The brother of your mistress becomes king, and you attain the lofty position you’ve always desired but don’t deserve.”
Cosinga flung his words with cruel abandon. “It will be so good to have you gone.”