The Senator from Naboo
The Senate was chaos. Voices clashed, echoing across the cavernous chamber as thousands of systems argued over trade routes, taxation, and corruption.
Amid the storm, Senator Palpatine of Naboo spoke with calm precision."Esteemed colleagues, the Republic does not suffer from lack of laws, but from lack of resolve. Our unity falters because we allow hesitation to paralyze us. If we continue down this path, instability will consume us all."
The chamber quieted, listening. Palpatine's tone was not fiery, but persuasive, reasonable yet laced with urgency. He appeared as nothing more than a servant of democracy, but in truth, he was shaping thought, planting doubts, bending wills.
Some senators applauded. Others frowned, whispering about his ambition. But no one ignored him.
The Master's Counsel
Later that evening, in the shadows of Coruscant's lower levels, Palpatine shed his mask. Cloaked in black, his voice shifted, deep with venom and power.
Kneeling, he addressed his master: Darth Plagueis the Wise.
Plagueis regarded him with sharp, calculating eyes."You maneuver well, apprentice. Already, they look to you as a voice of clarity amidst their noise."
Palpatine bowed his head. "Their trust is nothing but a leash. They are desperate for leadership, and desperation makes them weak."
Plagueis's smile was thin."Good. But do not mistake their weakness for yours to claim not yet. The galaxy must beg for order before it can be given. Patience. We are building an empire in the shadows.
Over the following weeks, Palpatine worked carefully.
He courted influential figures such as Mas Amedda, promising stability.
He whispered to trade guilds, stoking fears of piracy while offering himself as an ally.
He made subtle remarks about the Jedi never attacking, but questioning their ability to serve both the Force and the Republic.
Always measured. Always with a smile.
Yet when the Senate lights dimmed and he stood alone on his balcony, looking over Coruscant's glittering skyline, his thoughts burned darker.
Plagueis speaks of patience. But patience is chains. The Republic decays by the day. It will not wait for centuries of planning. It will fall, and I will be the one to claim it.
His lips curled faintly.
The galaxy does not yet see it, but its master already walks among them. And soon, they will kneel.