The next day, Mace returned to Palpatine's apartment alone, explaining that T'ra Saa was scouting out the royal palace in Theed to plan out their approach. Talzin and Palpatine were there to greet him and continue their previous conversation.

"--and so it seems clear that Veruna and Bon Tapalo are closely in league with Magister Damask, whose plans for exploiting Naboo's plasma fields have been heavily opposed by Vidar," Palpatine explained.

"I see." Mace’s entire attention had been on Palpatine during his explanation, to the point that Palpatine had had to hide his own nervousness at the intense scrutiny. His encounters with Mace and T’ra Saa were his first time in close contact with any Jedi, and he had always expected that this encounter, when it happened, would be with normal Jedi. With average Jedi. Not with a Jedi that openly manipulated the Dark Side or sensed Shatterpoints. Palpatine had yet to get over that. Still, Mace hadn’t given any indication that he thought anything was amiss with either Palpatine or Talzin.

"Yes." Talzin scowled in an attractively fearsome way. "All three of them sound like true villains. They must be brought to justice!" She brought an enormous clawed fist down for emphasis, shaking the entire table with her fierce declaration. Palpatine smiled at the gesture. She was really getting into her role.

Though the words he had just relayed caused him considerable unease. Palpatine felt no small amount of discomfort over having detailed his Master's involvement in the scheme so closely to a Jedi. It just felt wrong. It was one thing to simply deny association with Plagueis when convenient. That was expected, encouraged even. Murdering him? A venerable Sith tradition. But selling him out to the Jedi? It made Palpatine feel like a traitor to the entire Sith Order. And unlike Zannah, he wasn't going to be making up for the betrayal with some brilliant about-face.

Still, this was necessary, if he was to convince the Jedi of his intentions, and if he wanted this plan of his to work. He would just need to stifle his moral qualms.

"Thank you for giving me a more complete background on this." Mace was all efficient professionalism. "Master T'ra Saa and I agree with your assessment of the situation. Usually we would use more transparent methods in our investigations, but as using such methods here could further endanger your and Vidar's life, we understand the need for subterfuge in this case. These are very serious allegations indeed, though, so we will need to verify for ourselves the truth of them. It could be that some other party is using this obvious motive as a cover for their own."

"Of course." Palpatine nodded, keeping his expression carefully neutral. "I would expect no less from ones such as yourselves. What will happen if the allegations prove true?"

"We will make the necessary arrests." Mace projected a serious confidence that instilled a sense of his utter certainty in this statement. It was not the foolhardy assurance of youth, but the air of one used to taking on responsibilities far beyond those typically expected at such an age. "And both Bon Tapalo and Veruna will be tried by the courts for conspiracy to assassinate public officials. Magister Damask will likely need to be tried separately, but rest assured that he will be brought to trial as well."

"I see," Palpatine said. "Then I hope justice prevails." He was curious how Plagueis would handle a direct inquiry by the Jedi, though despite how despicable his actions had made him feel, he truly doubted this scenario posed any threat to his Master. Plagueis might not be a politician, but he was well-versed in navigating through political encumbrances, and he had too many politicians in his pocket for anyone to be able to threaten him with something like this.

"As do I." Mace’s response was earnest, but made no promises. So he had some idea of how the Republic courts worked in practice and not just theory, then, Palpatine decided.

"I'm sure it will," Talzin said.

"Though I must also ask, what will become of Naboo's government, if the King and his right hand man are deposed?"

"I expect another king will be chosen through the line of succession--"

Palpatine moulded his face into an expression of concern. "Ah, excuse my interruption, Master Jedi, but it's not as simple as that," he said. "You see, the Naboo elect their monarch, and the backup option must also be elected. If Bon Tapalo and Veruna are both rightfully prosecuted, as I truly hope they will be, then there will be no one to occupy the throne, as Naboo has no other qualifying elected officials."

He could see both Talzin and Mace giving him horrified looks at this pronouncement.

In the privacy of his own mind, Palpatine allowed himself a malicious cackle. He was truly curious how the Jedi would try to resolve this issue, if they tried to resolve it at all. It didn't matter that it was his own planet's broken political system at fault here. No matter what option they chose, he was confident it would cast the Jedi in a deeply unfavorable light to many Naboo.

Judging by the series of expressions that were occurring on Mace's face, Palpatine wondered if his thoughts were not moving along similar lines.

"I see," Mace said. "I will confer with T'ra Saa on this matter, as they have much greater experience on these issues than I."

"I'm certain their wisdom will result in a satisfactory resolution to the issue, then. I have the utmost confidence in your Order." To utterly fail in this task, Palpatine thought with glee.

After which, he would go in and quietly clean up the mess. Two birds, one stone--the Jedi made to look incompetent to the Naboo, and Bon Tapalo and Veruna deposed and unable to ever pose a threat to Vidar again.

Mace went through the appropriate conversational niceties before taking his leave of them. As soon as Talzin shut the door behind him, Palpatine saw her black and white markings cloud back over her face, like watercolors blotting through paper. He also dissolved his own mask of normalcy, allowing his eyes to take on their true color. Talzin retrieved Maul from his crib, where he'd been napping. Maul gazed wide-eyed around the room, turning his head in all directions as if surveying the area. Then Palpatine and Talzin settled down next to each other on the carpet and Talzin placed Maul down to crawl around the living room under their watchful gazes.

"That was incredibly conniving of you," she said.

"Thank you." He gave her an amiable smile. "You played your part admirably as well."

"I may as well grow used to maintaining a public facade. It was good practice. Also your planet has the worst political system I have ever heard of," Talzin said emphatically.

"Yes, it's so beautiful," Palpatine sighed happily. "It's times like these that I truly love being a Naboo."

"What is even supposed to happen in a situation like that?" Talzin asked. "Surely the issue has come up before?"

"Yes, it certainly has." Palpatine greatly relished recalling that history. "Sometimes one of the noble families used the power vacuum to seize the throne and establish an autocratic dynasty. At other times, the planet was plunged into civil war, sometimes for several generations. During one such period an anarchist commune briefly seized control of the government before they were messily murdered and deposed by the former monarch's appointed council members. Interesting times, those."

"Did they never just… hold an election to choose a new monarch?"

"Oh, but what fun would that be?" Palpatine asked.

"I presume you don't plan to leave the results of this power vacuum up to chance." Talzin frowned over at him.

"No, indeed not," Palpatine said. "As entertaining as that might be. I'll find someone to stick on the throne." Just not me. Palpatine had no intention of being stuck in the dead-end job of being his homeworld's monarch, elected or otherwise, particularly since current and former planetary monarchs were both barred from ever being elected to the Republic's highest position of power.

"You might have competition." Talzin lidded her eyes and smiled fiendishly. "Several of the Nightsisters I've brought here have political aspirations. And of course I wouldn't say no to having some political influence on this planet myself, though I have no intention of being tied down as an official leader."

"Are you challenging me?" Palpatine said, intrigued.

"What are you going to do about it if I am, Sith Lord?" She leaned closer to him.

Palpatine really needed to do something about his fascination with this… charade. But he knew he had real feelings for Talzin. And as much as he wanted to be angry at her for what she'd done to him, and the Sith, he really wasn't. Still, he couldn't allow himself to become attached to her, for all that he found himself enjoying her company more and more.

"I would say revenge, but that would be as much a lie as peace is," Palpatine replied. "I don't wish to take vengeance against you at all. It's really very un-Sithly of me."

"Maybe you don't have to be a Sith all the time," Talzin said.

But what was he, besides a Sith? The insignificant nobility of a backward, backwater world? A common murderer, a serial killer? A man playing house?

"I have to disagree," he said. "In any event, I certainly do need to be a Sith when it comes to the Jedi, and I would very much appreciate your help with that. I do believe that was the purpose of our alliance." He glanced over at Maul, who had crawled over to the couch and was examining it. "A purpose of our alliance," he corrected.

"Certainly, I agree," Talzin smiled indulgently over at Maul rolling across the carpet at the base of the couch before looking back to him, her expression turning serious. "But what I know of your plans in that regard do strike me as deeply questionable."

"And your plans do not strike me as adequately addressing the threat the Jedi pose," Palpatine said. "Even assuming we could negotiate with the Jedi, a truce or peace treaty is at best a stopgap measure that does little to mitigate the actual threat. And such things are only arranged between equals in power, but we would be seen as nothing to the Jedi."

Talzin was silent, seeming to consider this.

He glanced again over to Maul and followed his exploits as the small zabrak hybrid successfully scaled the couch and crawled onto the caf table. He was now examining the marble statuette of Shiraya in the center of it with his teeth. Apparently deciding that the decor wasn't to his taste, he withdrew his mouth with a look of disgust and toppled the aspirant goddess with a single tiny hand.

Palpatine felt a swell of pride for Maul at this. Yes, that's right! Show righteous authority your wrath!

Palpatine turned his attention back to Talzin.

"You have a point." Her expression was serious. "Still, we simply cannot wipe them all out. Even if I was so inclined, the only thing more dangerous than the Jedi as they are now would be Jedi desperate to save themselves from eradication."

"You are right," He said. "And I have to think of Maul's safety now. So I can no longer execute the Revenge of the Sith in that way."

"The what?"

"The Revenge of the Sith. The culmination of our Order's plans to topple the Jedi Order and replace their Republic with a Galactic Sith Empire," Palpatine explained.

"So how do you plan to accomplish it now?" Talzin's focused her full attention on him then.

"That is a good question." Palpatine considered his response. "I think... there must be a way to hollow out their Order without necessarily killing the Jedi themselves."

"That sounds… less hazardous, at least. And the Republic? You're going to destroy that too?" Talzin gave him a dubious look.

"Oh, yes, definitely." Palpatine was still certain of his destiny as the Sith'ari.

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"That's easy. I'm going to be elected Supreme Chancellor and then I will slowly consolidate power to myself until I can dissolve the entire government and replace it with my own."

Talzin sighed. "And you were planning to do all this with just you and your Sith Master?"

"Until I killed him, yes." He tried to quell the irrational guilt that thought brought. "At some point he would have taught me everything I need to know from him. Sadly that can't happen now."

Talzin seemed to consider his words. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I must admit I am deeply skeptical of this plan. Still, I will do what I can to help you with defeating the Jedi. You're on your own with the 'Sith Empire' part, though."

"Fair enough," Palpatine said. He had to admit, he looked forward to working with Talzin on toppling the Jedi Order. Still, never satisfied with a mere half-victory, he asked, "What specific issues do you have with a Sith Empire, though?"

"Let's see: They begin with 'Sith', and end with 'Empire'."

"Ah, that presents a challenge, then." He met her smilingly implacable gaze. An exciting challenge. If he could convince Talzin to help him destroy the Republic as well...

He simply needed to work harder to sell the idea.

After his visit to the Jedi Archives, Hego had promptly returned to his ship and left Coruscant. En-route to Kalee, he informed Larsh of his plans, which had surprised his long-time friend and associate.

"Are you sure," Larsh asked. "I know you're a daredevil, Hego, but this seems dangerous even for you. Holding in-person negotiations with the yam'rii? In the middle of a warzone?"

"I assure you, Larsh, it will be more than worth the trouble," Hego said. "In any event, I trust the Jedi will have everything under control."

Larsh gave him a sardonic smile. "Hopefully not enough to go prying into your business."

"Actually, I intend to pry into theirs," Hego said, returning the smile.

"You have nerves of steel, Hego. Even your father hesitated to involve himself with Jedi."

"As you've said many times." Hego felt a slight catch in his hearts at the mention of his father, which he carefully tucked away for future examination.

"I must confess to being a bit surprised about your resolution to the Holonet construction dispute." Larsh's expression was mild, his eyes only a touch wider than usual, but Plagueis could tell he was more than a little concerned. "I seem to recall you saying that you would let the project fall through before you'd agree to a single demand."

"Yes, that was my original plan," Hego said. "But I reconsidered the long-term implications."

"I'm sure you know what you're doing." Larsh seemed resigned. "I suppose I'll leave you to your warzone travel preparations. Do be careful, Hego."

"I will. See you at the Board Meeting." Hego deactivated the comm. He was sure that Larsh harbored suspicions about his recent erratic behavior, but was probably trying to convince himself he was overreacting. Hego planned to deflect those suspicions for as long as possible, and by any means necessary. Still, he thought that at some point even he would reach the limits of his ability with diverting such notice. He wasn't looking forward to it.

But, in the meantime, he absolutely planned to learn more about Qui-Gon Jinn, the Jedi who was obsessed with immortality.

Plagueis had of course read everything he could find on Sith achieving immortality. There wasn't much, and most of it was highly disappointing. He expected the Jedi version to be even less appealing to him. Still, the fact remained that the information could yet be of some use to him. Also, he just Had to Know.

Plagueis could recite from memory every Sith who had discovered a path to immortality. He could also recite every horrific cost they'd endured to achieve that end. For some, like Darth Sion, he had wondered if immortality had been more curse than gift. What was the point of ultimate power, Plagueis had wondered, if you had no capacity to enjoy it?

Tenebrous had of course chided him for such questions. As Sith they were supposed to have grander interests than their own petty desires. And Plagueis was all for grander interests, but he couldn't see how such things could be accomplished by beings completely consumed by their own suffering and pain. He had also decided that if he must experience pain to accomplish his goals, there had better be some reward for him at the end of it.

And the reward he sought was immortality. An immortality that offered pleasures both simple and elaborate, not some mere clinging to existence through sheer fury. But in the end, every gambit for immortality that Plagueis was aware of had failed. Some, like that of Darth Zash, had floundered embarrassingly. Others had never even gotten that far. Even Vitiate, a being whose lifespan had measured well over a millenia, had eventually died. Still, Plagueis had studied Vitiate's methods for a time as a young Sith, obsessed with somehow imitating them, until one day when Tenebrous had taken notice of his interest.

"Do you think it was him, really, all that time?" His Master had stood peering over his shoulder at the dusty tome, his eyes glowing like yellow searchlights in the dim room.

"Of course it was him." Plagueis had looked up at him, irritated. "Who else could it be?"

"An echo," Tenebrous had said pensively. "A mere simulacrum of consciousness. Every memory, every ability preserved, but the core of the original nothing but a dead husk."

This pronouncement had chilled Plagueis. "But he seemed so… alive."

Tenebrous had looked amused. "Yes, he did, didn't he? But maybe the sorcery that consumed an entire world of souls to create its imprint took his as well as its final price."

After that, Plagueis had decided he would need to forge a new path to immortality. There would be no separation of his body from his mind, as there had been with Vitiate. And there would be no mere occupation of his distressed corpse, as there had been with Sion. He would find a way to keep his body in good health among the living in perpetuity. But in order to accomplish that, he would need to cultivate the ability to create and sustain life, an ability no other Sith had ever been known to have, much less to master. However, Plagueis had made great strides in that direction already. He'd just encountered a few...complications.

To that end, just as he had studied the Sith who (hadn't) lived forever, he would study the Jedi who sought to transcend the limits of mortality as well. Plagueis knew this preoccupation of his was excessive, but that didn't change how he felt. Even the Font, whatever else it had done to him, had not changed this. The fact remained that he was terrified of death.

And he was determined to do something about it.

Plagueis engaged in a frenzy of activity during the hyperspace trip. He commed San, 11-4D, Palpatine, his yam'rii associates, and the board members of Damask Holdings.

And as he sipped a glass of Serrenian wine, he reviewed his research on immortality. His recent acquisitions from the Jedi Archives had contained some illuminating entries in that regard. But he wanted to know what paths Qui-Gon's research had followed, if he had seen something that Plagueis had not. He considered at great length how he planned to approach his questioning of the Jedi.

He was also about to make the yam'rii occupation of Kalee a lot more uncomfortable. This was going to be a real pain to explain during the Board Meeting.

But it was also going to be immensely entertaining for him to watch.

Tradeoffs, he decided philosophically.

Dooku fled from the assault, deflecting the hail of slugthrower fire with a gesture as he levitated the unconscious Qui-Gon underneath the jungle canopy. Behind him, he heard as much as felt a deafening, though distant, explosion.

Distant, he knew, because if it had been nearby, he would already be dead. The yam'rii soldiers were retreating in a panic as the soldiers of the kaleesh warlord advanced through the humid jungle. The Force was howling with the deaths of both yam'rii and kaleesh alike, though at the moment, more yam'rii than kaleesh. And this was why Qui-Gon was currently unconscious.

Dooku sighed.

He had warned his former Padawan that nothing could prepare a Jedi for the experience of all-out war. But Qui-Gon had believed his resolve and the background he had gained from earlier missions would be sufficient to see him through.

The empathic shock had taken Qui-Gon by surprise when the kaleesh warlord Drennil lir Kummar had suddenly attacked the yam'rii outpost. Dooku and the remaining yam'rii soldiers reached the hidden base and he settled the unconscious Qui-Gon onto the cot in the small room. He bent down and placed a hand over Qui-Gon's forehead, quieting his own mind and slamming his mental shields shut to block out the screaming world around them.

A blue light glowed under Dooku's hand, and Qui-Gon's eyes fluttered. He was silent for several moments as he regained awareness. "I'm sorry, Master." he seemed genuinely remorseful.

"I'm sure you are. You shouldn't have come." The words came off harsher than Dooku intended.

"I'll recover. I can do this--"

"You could have died," Dooku said. "You still might."

Qui-Gon looked up at him. "How do you bear it?"

"Detachment, Qui-Gon." Dooku was encouraged by the lucidity of Qui-Gon's words. He hoped this was a sign of full recovery. "To connect yourself too closely to a dying creature is to risk yourself being pulled towards death in that creature's wake. To do that with a sea of death is exponentially worse. You have been taught to sense the world around you, but in a situation like this you must be able to shut it out. As I tried to warn you earlier."

"But is not our ability to sense others through the Living Force our greatest power?"

"Perhaps." Dooku felt calmer now, and made more of an effort to inject some gentleness into his tone. "But it can also be our greatest weakness. You must learn how to sense what you can bear, but no more."

"Master Jedi!" A voice trilled from behind Dooku.

"Yes, Commander Hiletek?" Dooku turned to face him.

"You must tell the Order we require more reinforcements!" Hilitek clicked, waving his pincher-like arms for emphasis.

"We are not here to fight your war, Commander," Dooku said crisply. "We are here to help you end it."

Dooku's comm began to beep. He looked at the name on the display. "Leave us, now. I need to take this call," he lied.

"All right." Hilitek said. "But tell the Order we need more Jedi!" The insectoid biped filed out of the room.

Dooku answered the comm. The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. "Jocasta! To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Just checking in on you, dear Count," she replied affectionately.

"I see," Dooku said. "How are you finding your new role in the Archives?"

"Most agreeable." She looked happier than she had been in a while.

"I know you will excel there. I still think you belong on the Council, though." Dooku could certainly think of a few choice words he’d like to share with certain of its members on the matter.

Jocasta gave him a wry look. "I know. But the fact of the matter is I can get more done where I'm at now."

"Only because some of our peers fail to grasp your brilliance," Dooku said.

"Regardless of the reason, I am happier here," she replied, though her cheeks flushed at his pronouncement.

"Then I am glad for that, at least."

Jocasta took a few moments to compose her expression back to her typical calm professionalism. "And how are your negotiations going?"

Dooku deflated. "Not well. Neither the yam'rii nor the kaleesh seem to be aware there are any."

"Oh." Jocasta gave him an encouraging smile. "I'm certain you will clear that matter up for them, though."

"That is exactly what I will do," Dooku said. It's simply going to be a lot more trouble than it ought to be.

"Stay safe." She seemed concerned now. "You and Qui-Gon both."

"I will try," Qui-Gon added from behind Dooku.

Jocasta tsked. "Is he causing you trouble?"

Dooku sighed. "Qui-Gon is an expert negotiator. He is exactly who I need to help me with this difficult situation."

"Glad to hear it." Jocasta smiled knowingly.

"I understand the Holonet construction project is back on track," Dooku said. "I wish I had been able to attend the proceedings. You must have been a force of nature."

"Hardly!" Jocasta said. "It was Magister Damask who set everything back on course."

"The Magister?" Dooku asked, bewildered. Damask had looked to be in a dreadful state when he'd arrived at the negotiations, smelling like he'd raided a Corellian brandy freighter and looking like he hadn't slept in the last decade. "Are you telling me he actually spoke during the delegations?"

"More than that," Jocasta said. "He resolved the whole thing!"

Dooku blinked. "Really?" He had only briefly encountered Magister Damask during the deliberations. Dooku had sensed such a deep despair from the man that he had inquired as to his personal wellbeing. The muun had barely acknowledged his existence before muttering 'never better' and sweeping sullenly away in his green finery.

"Absolutely." She seemed entirely serious. "You didn't tell him about that, Qui-Gon?"

"To be honest, I tuned out most of the proceedings the moment the Magister started speaking." Qui-Gon looked slightly embarrassed. "By the time I realized what was happening, I'd already missed the bulk of it. So I felt it was better that you recount the event correctly the first time than have to correct my version of it."

"I suppose." Jocasta seemed about to continue her response when her expression suddenly shifted to one of concern. "Which reminds me, the Magister asked about you, Qui-Gon, and that gave me the distinct suspicion that he was planning to travel to Kalee."

Qui-Gon groaned. "Truly? That man is up to something, I'm sure of it."

"I certainly hope he will not be so reckless," Dooku said. "It would be incredibly dangerous for anyone to be travelling here at this time."

Jocasta's mouth formed a thin line. "I'm sorry to dash your hopes, then. I looked into that suspicion. A brief entry in today's Coruscant Times states that Magister Damask plans to personally visit unnamed yam’rii associates on Kalee to work out...some sort of business deal, I'll not bore you with the details. Says that he expects the Jedi will keep order during the negotiations."

Dooku, sighing deeply, touched a hand to his forehead. "Then on top of everything else, a pathetic lifeform to look after? I can't wait."