“You said soon,” Palpatine barked the moment the hatch had pocketed itself in the bulkhead. “A standard week is not soon.”
Plagueis entered, removed his robe, and folded it over the back of a chair. “I had business to attend to.” He glanced over his shoulder at Palpatine. “Was I simply supposed to drop everything in service to the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into?”
Speechless for a moment, Palpatine said, “Forgive me for having allowed myself to believe that we were in this together.”
“Together? How so?”
“Am I not your agent on Naboo?”
Plagueis rocked his head from side to side. “You did provide us with some useful information.”
Palpatine studied him uncertainly. “I did more than that, Magister, and you’re well aware of it. You share as much responsibility for what happened as I do.”
Plagueis seated himself and crossed one leg over the other knee. “Has it really been only a week? For you seem greatly changed. Were the Chandrilan and Naboo authorities so rough on you?”
Palpatine continued to stare at him. “As you promised, where there is no evidence, there is no crime. They went so far as to enlist the aid of salvagers and pirates in the search, but came up empty-handed.” His look hardened. “But it’s you who have changed. Despite the fact that you saw this event in the making.”
Plagueis motioned to himself. “Did I suspect that you and your father might reach an impasse? Of course. It would have been obvious to anyone. But you seem to be implying that I somehow divined that the confrontation would end in violence.”
Palpatine considered it, then snorted in derision. “You’re lying. You may as well have forced my hand.”
“What an odd way to put it,” Plagueis said. “But since you’ve grasped the truth of it, I offer a confession. Yes, I deliberately goaded you.”
“You came to Chandrila to make certain that my father’s spies would see us together.”
“Once more, correct. You make me proud of you.”
Palpatine ignored the flattery. “You used me.”
“There was no other way.”
Palpatine shook his head in angry disbelief. “Was any of the story about your siblings true?”
“Some of it. But that scarcely matters now. You asked for my help and I provided it. Your father attempted to thwart you, and you acted of your own free will.”
“And by killing him I’ve rid you of an opponent.” Palpatine paused. “My father was right about you. You are a gangster.”
“And you are free and wealthy,” Plagueis said. “So what now, young human? I continue to have great hopes for you, but before I could tell you everything I needed you to be free.”
“Free from what?”
“From fear of expressing your true nature.”
Palpatine’s expression darkened. “You know nothing of my true nature.” He paced away from Plagueis, then stopped and turned to him. “You never asked about the killings.”
“I’ve never been one for grim details,” Plagueis said. “But if you need to unburden yourself, do so.”
Palpatine raised his clawed hands. “I executed them with these! And with the power of my mind. I became a storm, Magister — a weapon strong enough to warp bulkheads and hurl bodies across cabinspaces. I was death itself!”
Plagueis sat tall in the chair, in genuine astonishment.
He could see Palpatine now in all his dark glory. Anger and murder had pulled down the walls he had raised perhaps since infancy to safeguard his secret. But there was no concealing it now: the Force was powerful in him! Bottled up for seventeen standard years, his innate power had finally burst forth and could never again be stoppered. All the years of repression, guiltless crimes, raw emotion bubbling forth, toxic to any who dared touch or taste it. But beneath his anger lurked a subtle enemy: apprehension. Newly reborn, he was at great risk. But only because he didn’t realize just how powerful he was or how extraordinarily powerful he could become. He would need help to complete his self-destruction. He would need help rebuilding those walls, to keep from being discovered.
Oh, what a cautious taming he would require! Plagueis thought. But what an ally he might make. What an ally!
“I’m not sure I know what to think of this, Palpatine,” he said at last. “Have you always had such powers?”
Color had drained from Palpatine’s face, and his legs were shaking. “I’ve always known I was capable of summoning them.”
Plagueis rose from the chair and approached him warily. “Here is where the path bifurcates, young human. Here and now you need to decide whether to disavow your power or to venture courageously and scrupulously into the depths of truth — no matter the consequences.”
He resisted an urge to grasp Palpatine by the shoulder, and instead paced away from him. “You could devote the rest of your life to trying to make sense of this power, this gift,” he said, without looking back. “Or you could consider a different option.” He swung to face Palpatine. “It’s a dark path into a trackless wilderness from which few return. Not without a guide, at any rate. But it is also the shortest, quickest route between today and tomorrow.”
Plagueis realized that he was taking a great gamble, but there was no turning back from it. The dark side had brought them together, and it would be the will of the dark side that decided whether Palpatine became his apprentice.
“In your studies,” he said carefully, “have you ever learned of the Sith?”
Palpatine blinked, as if preoccupied. “A Jedi sect, weren’t they? The result of a kind of family feud.”
“Yes, yes, in some ways just that. But more: the Sith are the prodigal offspring, destined to return and overthrow the Jedi.”
Palpatine cut his eyes to Plagueis. “The Sith are considered to be evil.”
“Evil?” Plagueis repeated. “What is that? Moments ago you defined yourself as a storm. You said you were death itself. Are you evil, then, or are you simply stronger and more awake than others? Who gives more shape to sentient history: the good, who adhere to the tried and true, or those who seek to rouse beings from their stupor and lead them to glory? A storm you are, but a much-needed one, to wash away the old and complacent and prune the galaxy of deadweight.”
Palpatine’s lip curled in anger and menace. “Is this the wisdom you offer — the tenets of some arcane cult?”
“The test of its value is whether you can live by it, Palpatine.”
“If I had wanted that I would have forced my parents years ago to surrender me to the Jedi Order instead of transferring me from school to private school.”
Plagueis planted his hands on his hips and laughed without mirth. “And of what possible use do you think a person of your nature would be to the Jedi Order? You’re heartless, ambitious, arrogant, insidious, and without shame or empathy. More, you’re a murderer.” He held Palpatine’s hooded gaze and watched the youth’s hands clench in fists of rage. “Careful, boy,” he said after a moment. “You are not the only being in this plush stateroom with the power to kill.”
Palpatine’s eyes opened wide and he took a step back. “I can sense it …”
Plagueis grew deliberately haughty. “What you sense is a fraction of what I can bring to bear.”