Darkness enveloped the room, despite the abundance of lamps and light fixtures. But the Darkness didn't care for the inventions of this galaxy's primitive inhabitants. It had arrived in this world today, following the Force that had been so brazenly summoned by an arrogant Force-sensitive.
For some reason, the fool had needed to concentrate so much Dark Side energy around himself that even the Light retreated, allowing the Darkness to freely churn and coil, ignoring all sources of light in the chamber.
The hall was crammed with medical equipment, leaving only a small semicircle of open space near the operating table in the center. Three tanks of Bacta, which had so successfully replaced Manaan's kolto several millennia ago, stood in a neat row along one wall.
The opposite wall was dominated by a complex patient monitoring system, which allowed the subject to be instantly plunged into stasis if necessary. In the center, a tall representative of the Muun species leaned over the body of a man—a Human. The Darkness swirled around them, occasionally pierced by blood-red Force lightning.
A medical droid scurried back and forth, clearly unable to comprehend its master's actions. The patient had been dead for several days. There was no possibility of restoring the damage.
But this didn't bother the Muun at all. He had spent his entire life fighting Death. And he was the only one in history to have come this close to victory! Although he acknowledged that he was inspired by the achievements of the great Sith Emperor of the past, today would be his triumph and no one else's!
Yes, Vitiate had achieved much, managing to live for over a thousand years. But where was he now? He had lost to Death! That was not what the Muun aspired to. He was Darth Plagueis! He would conquer Death!
A wave of Darkness, following the flow of the great Force, struck the dead man's chest. Hundreds of scarlet bolts of lightning tore from Plagueis's fingers and literally enveloped the body lying on the operating table. Under such power, the human remains shouldn't have lasted long; the tissues should have turned to ash. But the Muun's intentions were different.
"I command you! LIVE!" the Sith Lord cried out, collapsing onto one knee, unable to remain standing any longer.
The strain was colossal; strength was abandoning Plagueis. The Force, the great Force itself, would not allow him to stop the ritual. It was as if it had seized the Sith's hands, now forcing him to draw on all his reserves, as if it, too, wanted the dead man to live.
The Darkness nourished its acolyte, silently mocking his suffering. The fool had decided to play with the foundations of the universe. Well, he wouldn't be the first. Many had tried before him, and some had even succeeded.
Force-sensitives, once they passed, had long since merged with the Force, sometimes even retaining their consciousness and gaining true power and freedom. That was the natural process... evolution. But this simpleton, blinded by the fear of death, fled from his future... just like all mortals...
A faint stream of light, a silver glow, joined the Darkness, swirling around the dead man.
The pressure of the Force intensified so much that cracks appeared in the wall and ceiling panels, and the medical equipment seemed to melt, like wax candles. The medical droid, whose programming couldn't process the events, emitted panicked sounds in an attempt to draw its master's attention.
The Force, meanwhile, seemed to rejoice... giving a sense of what was happening to those who could perceive its influence. This astonishing feeling of a living being's interaction with the Force was beyond words. Even all the senses and feelings of all the millions of species in the galaxy would be insufficient for an approximate description.
The silvery mist, along with another stream of lightning, entered the dead man's body.
Plagueis had never before experienced the sensations that now pierced his own form. The Force raged both inside and out, simultaneously incinerating his reserves and feeding his body with unprecedented power. But beyond that, for the first time, the Sith seemed to catch faint feelings and emotions that belonged neither to him nor to any sentient being nearby... he wasn't even sure a consciousness could fully grasp what the Muun's mind desperately tried to categorize as emotions...
What was it? A feeling of duty fulfilled... of success... the joy of deliverance? A sense that everything was right... Were these his emotions now? Or was it still an unknown Force illusion, baffling even the old Sith?
At that moment, a shockwave emanated from the body, throwing Plagueis to the far end of the chamber. The flow of lightning from his hands broke off, and the surrounding Darkness dissolved, giving way to the light from the ceiling lamps.
It took the Sith several minutes to recover. He was utterly spent and couldn't even move. The pain was faint, but the numbness throughout his body made it impossible to assess the damage. Finally, he managed to rise slightly and look around.
Chaos and complete destruction reigned. The shockwave had shattered the medical equipment and destroyed the unfortunate droid that had gotten in the way.
Concentrating on the pain from his broken arm and scorched palms, the Muun channeled it into anger, then transformed it into strength. This basic Dark Side technique, one of the first lessons taught to every Sith, helped him quickly recover enough power to stand and examine the ritual's results.
Darth Plagueis stumbled toward the operating table. He examined the body for a long time. He checked the vital signs, then reached out with the Force, probing almost every cell of the organism.
The result was the same: A dead man lay on the table.
Rage and resentment flared in the Muun's mind, and with a burst of the Force, he hurled the table into the ruins of the Bacta tanks.
It had all been for nothing! The ritual had failed, even though it had drained almost all his strength! Damn it, it had nearly killed Plagueis himself! And the result was exactly the same. Years of research and planning... all wasted.
Ever since he and his apprentice had failed to create life several years ago using direct control over the midi-chlorians, the Sith Lord had been developing a different plan. He needed a test subject who was strong in the Force, one who could surpass even a Jedi Order Master.
And he had found him!
There was a rumor that nearly two decades ago, the young Jedi Knight Sifo-Dyas had fallen in love with a woman—Tia Marr. Service to the Order forced him to leave his beloved. However, by that time, she was already pregnant. Tia was from the almost-forgotten Miraluka species. Their natural ability to see using the Force instead of ordinary sight indicated that many powerful Force-sensitives were born among their people.
Sifo-Dyas himself had told Plagueis about this, whom he considered a friend, never suspecting his true identity as a Sith Lord.
The child of the Jedi Master and the Miraluka was truly powerful. Potentially stronger than many on the Jedi Council. Perhaps only Yoda and two or three other Masters could compare with him, no more. Had he received the proper training, he would have represented a serious danger.
Therefore, Plagueis, under the pretense of protecting the child, his friend's son, ordered him and his mother to be hidden from the Order's seekers, who were always looking for future apprentices.
It was this boy, who had grown into a strong, precociously developed teenager, who now lay beneath the wreckage of the operating table.
And everything had been so well-planned. There were enough midi-chlorians in the boy's blood to withstand the immense volume of Force energy required to return him to life. The moment had been chosen correctly. Years of research allowed him to state this with confidence. And yet... it wasn't enough.
Perhaps he should have trained the boy? Would that have helped?
"It doesn't matter," the Sith said aloud, weary.
There were still many other test subjects. Not as powerful, but still meeting the conditions.
"Droids, restore everything here and dispose of the trash," he ordered, pointing to the dead man. A few service droids quickly rolled into the ruined laboratory and began their work.
Plagueis, departing from the hall and focusing on healing his injuries, didn't even notice the test subject's chest moving, drawing the first breath in a very long time.