Plagueis had not anticipated that the trip to the top-secret meeting location would take quite so long. But traveling overland on a planet with few roads and considerable jungle had taken nearly as many days as it had for him to get to Kalee from Coruscant in the first place. He'd also had to leave his ship at the landing site. Which he'd anticipated, but it was still something of a loss to him. He very likely wouldn't be seeing it again after all.

Still, when the land transport finally stopped at its destination, he exited the ramp with considerable enthusiasm. It was finally time--time to meet with the Jedi, of course, but also to accomplish his larger purpose here. He entered the humid jungle, the air thick with insects, and was met with a familiar Jedi standing at the bottom of the ramp. Qui-Gon's extensively hairy visage frowned dourly up at him.

The Jedi narrowed his eyes at Plagueis. "If you think that we're happy to see you, Magister, you are quite mistaken. Was this your motivation for assisting in the HoloNet negotiations?"

"Your suspicion is quite understandable, but I assure you this had nothing to do with that. I wasn't even aware there would be Jedi on Kalee until after the negotiations."

"So you thought you would just head on over here, then?" Qui-Gon asked, his eyes hooded. "For a holiday?"

"After having met you, I was confident that I would be in good hands, yes. But this is hardly a pleasure jaunt. I have a very important deal to negotiate with the yam'rii. I don't claim to have the vision of a Jedi like yourself, but I think once you have had a chance to see my proposal, you might agree on its value."

Qui-Gon's frown deepened. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Magister. As a Jedi, my purpose here is to protect life. All life. But you are here to make money off of a war. That is not, in my experience, a compatible goal."

"Your suspicion is understandable," Plagueis said. "Still, I--"

"And if the kaleesh should attack this base, our presence here will not be adequate protection against them. Your life is in mortal danger. You should leave now, for your own safety and the safety of others."

"I'm sorry to hear that I misjudged the situation. However I have already invested too much effort into this venture to pull out now."

Qui-Gon's face relaxed and he waved a hand, intoning, "You don't want to sell anything to the yam'rii. You want to leave Kalee for your own health and safety."

 Plagueis gave Qui-Gon a friendly smile. "Fascinating. The famous Jedi Mind trick. Kind of tingles in the back of the head." He waved the fingers of one hand for emphasis.

Qui-Gon's eyes widened momentarily, though his face showed no other indication of emotion.

And what a rare opportunity, he thought. Jedi tended to avoid using their power so as not to 'show off' or 'be frivolous', and so he had had little opportunity to directly observe their use of the Force in action. But he had long wondered about this particular practice of theirs. The suggestion had tugged at Plagueis's deepest fears, offering a simple solution to allay them, but of course had been easy for him to recognize as something quite foreign to his own intention.

Qui-Gon seemed to have recovered his resolve.  He raised his hand again before Plagueis interrupted.

"Oh, are you going to do that again? If you could--wait a moment?" Plagueis fished a datapad and pen out of his satchel. "Ah, thank you. Please proceed." He looked over to Qui-Gon, his pen perched between his hand and the datapad, meeting the Jedi's gaze.

This time one corner of Qui-Gon's mouth twitched slightly downward in his otherwise impassive face. Would Qui-Gon make another attempt? It was clear that Plagueis had given him more than a few misgivings. Still, Jedi were known to try this deception again if it did not initially succeed, often with improved results.

It seemed that Qui-Gon's hope for such results still outweighed his doubts, as he continued on, intoning, "You will leave Kalee promptly for your own good."

Plagueis used his pen to scribble a few notes on the pad. "Hmmm...that one wasn't as strong as the initial attempt, but I definitely noticed something. Like when a visitor just so gently taps at your door but is too timid to assert themselves further. Interesting. I've heard subsequent attempts are usually more strongly suggestive."

Qui-Gon sighed, his face losing its emotionless mask. "Well, it doesn't work on everyone," he said, lowering his hand in resignation. Plagueis had known about this limitation, but he'd long wondered about the reasons for it. The Sith version of this power had no such restrictions on species without natural mental barriers, and indeed Plagueis's own abilities exceeded even that, though Plagueis had found himself unable to continue his previous experiments on this ability.

"I won't fault you for trying to do what you believe to be in the best interests of all. Still, I find it good to know that the rest of us are not entirely disadvantaged when it comes to our dealings with your Order," Plagueis said, putting the pen and pad away. "Do you ever worry about it?"

"About what?" Qui-Gon asked.

"About the ethical implications inherent in being able to bend another to your will," Plagueis said. He had certainly worried over it a lot ever since the… incident.

"The mind trick can only persuade people to do something they already want to. As I believe your response has proven."

"My response proves only that I was not receptive to the attempt," Plagueis said. "It does not provide a reason for that lack of receptiveness, or for why others may respond in the expected manner. And if it was for some purpose a person truly wanted for themselves, surely it would be standard practice to ask permission beforehand."

Qui-Gon looked pensive. "Perhaps you have a point, though I hardly think one such as yourself is in a position to lecture on the ethics of asking permission . Given your lack of any attempt to ask that of us before coming here."

Plagueis laughed. "Indeed not! It was merely an observation."

"Since you refuse to do the sensible thing, come with me," Qui-Gon beckoned Plagueis towards him, his bearded face resigned. "I'll take you to your lodgings."

Plagueis followed at Qui-Gon's side as they walked toward the fortified yam'rii compound. "Thank you, Master Jedi. I do apologize for the imposition, but I assure you, I have come here to assist in your task, not hinder it." He reflected that from a certain point of view, this was even true. Not his point of view, of course. But from someone's.

Qui-Gon assessed him coolly. "One such as yourself may have a very different definition of assistance than we do."

Plagueis looked around. "Is the other Jedi about? The older one?"

"Master Dooku? Yes, he's in a meeting with the General right now, but he'll be by to talk to you later." Qui-Gon said the last part in an ominous tone.

"Excellent!" Plagueis said, pretending not to notice the obvious implication in Qui-Gon's voice that Dooku's talk with him would not be a pleasant one. "I regret I did not have the opportunity to converse with him during the HoloNet negotiations." That is something I definitely must rectify. Plagueis knew Dooku was probably not any happier about his arrival here than Qui-Gon at this point. However, he was confident the other Jedi would warm up to him in time.

The same was not true of Qui-Gon. He knew what he wanted to know from the Jedi, but not what made this Jedi tick. And he didn't expect Qui-Gon would be casually volunteering any of his own secrets given his current mood. Still, he had to try something.

Best start with something innocuous. "The life of a Jedi must be a difficult one."

"I shouldn't think so, actually," Qui-Gon said. "No more difficult or easy than that of any other being in the galaxy. We have our share of hardship, certainly, but our lives are hardly without joy or companionship."

"And what do you enjoy, Master Jedi?"

"A lot of things," Qui-Gon said. "But smashball is pretty high on that list."

"Ah. Sport."

"I take it you do not feel the same," Qui-Gon said.

"Some physical activities can be diverting." Plagueis laced his hands behind his back. "But I dislike the ones with rules ."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Because rules were made to be broken," Plagueis said.

"That explains a lot about you." Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes.

And not a lot about you, unfortunately. But Plagueis was hardly ready to give up.

"I'll admit, Jedi abilities are quite intriguing to me. Being able to move things with your mind must be useful."

"It can be," Qui-Gon said. "But I would hardly consider that our most important ability."

"And what would that be?" Plagueis asked.

"Our ability to sense, understand, communicate with, and heal the other lifeforms around us," Qui-Gon said. "Our ability to access the Living Force."

Perhaps we have more in common than I thought . This was a considerably more interesting piece of information to Plagueis than the Jedi's sporting activities. Immortality, the Living Force. Yes, there is much we should discuss. It might take quite some time to get Qui-Gon to divulge such information, but it was time Plagueis was more than willing to take. Of course, the Jedi were somewhat imprecise in their terminology. What they called the Living Force, Plagueis usually thought of as the two separate forces of anima and pneuma. But still, he was most interested in learning more about the Jedi approach to such things, and specifically, about this Jedi's approach. "A most worthwhile ability indeed,” Plagueis said. "I should love to hear more about it."

"Perhaps later. Here we are," Qui-Gon said, showing Plagueis a small, grubby room not much larger than a walk-in closet. "I apologize if the lodgings are not to your taste," Qui-Gon said unapologetically. "This isn't exactly a hotel."

"Oh, no, they are quite satisfactory, thanks," Plagueis said. "I appreciate your assistance, and apologize for my imposition on your time. But this meeting with the yam'rii is of the utmost importance. As I've said, I believe my dealings here will be a great help to you."

"I highly doubt that, but I will be interested to see what you define as 'help'," Qui-Gon said.

"You will learn that soon enough, Master Jedi," Plagueis assured him. He was quite looking forward to that moment.

There was a booming knock at the door. "Yes, who is it?" Plagueis asked, though he already knew the answer to that question.

"Master Dooku, of the Jedi Order," the clipped voice from the other side responded.

Plagueis opened the door. "Ah, I've been expecting you!"

Dooku's eyes narrowed. "I'll bet you have. Qui-Gon has told me you refuse to leave."

"Then he has told you correctly." Plagueis gave Dooku an apologetic smile. "However, I think there has been a grave misunderstanding. Your friend seems to think that I am here to stir up trouble. I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth."

"Your assurances do not count for very much among the Jedi. Perhaps you've assumed your comparatively low profile in the corporate world would shield you from scrutiny, Magister, but your many unscrupulous business dealings are still a matter of public record." Dooku scowled and crossed his arms.

"You have particular objections to me, then?"

"Oh, yes. Perhaps I should expand on that. Only I don't know whether to start with the lobbying activities, such as the ones that crushed regulations in the Chommel sector, or the hostile takeovers you have instigated, such as with Starside Pharmaceuticals, or the--"

Plagueis held up a hand. As much as he enjoyed researching others, he did find it most uncomfortable when others researched him. "Ah, no need. I get the idea."

"Then my objections with you should be most clear."

"I can understand your suspicion, even if I think it is misdirected in this case."

Dooku gave him a doubtful look. "I have been informed you will be delivering your pitch to the Yam'rii Military Council tomorrow morning."

"That is true, yes." Plagueis gave him an impassive look.

"Whatever you are selling them, know that I will see this stopped," Dooku said. "I will lodge a complaint with the yam'rii government, the Council, the Senate; I will send letters to every nonprofit focusing on the rights of beings; I will see that your name is splashed on the front page of the news and your current exploits exposed for the vile acts that they are--"

 Plagueis held up his hands, smiling nervously. My, my, such a firebrand! "Master Jedi, please! Is a being not innocent until proven guilty?" If I were planning whatever nefarious act you are assuming, this response would be quite worrying! Rest assured, Master Dooku, that I will not be nearly so obvious as that when I pull the rug out from under you.

Dooku made a dismissive noise. "You are not innocent."

"That is not an unreasonable assumption," Plagueis said, lowering his hands. "Still, give me a chance, Master Jedi. I must confess to a curiosity as to what you think I am selling." And what a fascinating question that was! While he could venture some reasonable theories as to the general shape of the conclusion the Jedi had come to, there was simply no way he could know precisely what that conclusion was. Beyond knowing that it was undoubtedly incorrect, of course.

"I've no wish to give you ideas in case I am wrong," Dooku said. "But...I highly doubt that I am."

"You will soon have the chance to judge that for yourself. You and the esteemed Qui-Gon are of course extended an invitation to my presentation. I should most like to get your perspective on the matter."

"You could just tell me what you will be presenting now and I will give you my perspective immediately," Dooku said.

"Oh, no, I'm afraid not," Plagueis said. "I am sure the Yam'rii Military Council would object to you knowing that information before they did. And even if they did not, I'm simply not in the right frame of mind at the moment. I'm still working out the final details of my presentation. I'll not reveal anything until I can be sure I can give the proper impression of what I have to offer. But not to worry, you'll have a chance to ask any questions and submit further comments during the presentation tomorrow."

"I will do that," Dooku said ominously.

"I look forward to it! Good day, esteemed Jedi Dooku," Plagueis gave him a small bow and closed the door to his room before Dooku could say anything else. He sensed the Jedi leave after several moments.

Though Plagueis had originally become interested in traveling to Kalee due to the presence of the Jedi, they were no longer his primary reason for being here.  Still, they were certainly a reason that he was here, and he looked forward to learning more about them.

Dooku would surely be unwilling to converse casually with him for the time being. Perhaps after the presentation. But his threats had given Plagueis an impression of the Jedi Master. With his aristocratic bearing and his political inclinations, Dooku reminded Plagueis a great deal of Palpatine. Of course, the difference was that where Dooku was stern and all sharp edges in his anger, Palpatine was easy-going and smooth, friendly until the moment he stabbed his enemies in the back. Plagueis marveled at the irony of it.

Plagueis had missed the chance to talk with Dooku at Serenno, but he fully intended to make up for that. Dooku was certainly very passionate--a quite un-Jedi-like quality. And there was a lot of anger in him. Of course, being a Jedi hardly exempted beings from anger. But most Jedi did not express it quite so openly. They were encouraged to let it flow over and past them like water and to appear above it all.

Plagueis, on the other hand, had been encouraged to cultivate his anger as a Sith. At any time he could be a seething sea of emotion, ready to unleash the full force of his power. Of course, he could calm that sea when he wished to, as he often did, but it could be called upon again in an instant, if needed. Though most of the time, Plagueis preferred calm deliberation, or at least the illusion of it. He thought that Dooku must be similar in nature, if inverted--fully capable of expressing the depths of his emotion, but able to place them aside at a moment's notice to call upon his power. Jocasta Nu had indicated that he was a Jedi of considerable talent, after all, and all of Plagueis' own investigations had indicated the same.

Dooku would surely be a powerful Sith, if he could be put onto that path. And Plagueis was confident that he could be. But first, he would have to have the right incentive.

What about Qui-Gon? Qui-Gon seemed less inclined to outbursts, but that didn't mean he was emotionless. Plagueis sensed a deep stubbornness in him, and that was not possible without deep feeling. Plagueis was still unsure what motivated him, and without that any attempt to turn him to the Dark Side would surely be a waste of effort. Still, he would find out about what Qui-Gon had found in his search for immortality. And he would find out why the Jedi was looking for it.

Plagueis rubbed his hands together, excited. He would study these Jedi carefully. One day, he would destroy the entire Jedi Order, but until then, field studies on them would surely prove most intriguing.

Plagueis surveyed the tiny room with its bare gray walls. Not exactly a hotel, indeed. Fortunately, he had brought his own entertainment. He took a flimsiplast magazine of Galactic Geographic out of his satchel. The cover image was of Kalee, but that was merely the camoflauge, not what had interested him about this particular magazine. There was actually nothing of value to him in the Kalee article at all. Turning through the pages, he arrived at the article of interest, carefully pulling the photo pages out of the magazine.

Removing a dartboard and darts from the satchel, he affixed the dartboard to the wall and taped one of the flimsiplast photos to it.

Moving to a spot across the room, he threw two darts which hit the figure in the photo. Walking back up to the photo, he removed the darts and focused his attention on the two holes in the image, using the barest trickle of Force power to relink the molecular chains of flimsiplast and repair the perforations. Satisfied with his handiwork, he turned away from the photo and dartboard.

Then, returning to his former spot, he aimed again and threw the pair of darts.

They hit the photo of the Nightsister directly in her double hearts.

One of the advantages of being a Jedi, Dooku reflected, was the ability to hold private conversations.

The yam'rii are unfortunately much more excited to see the Magister than we are, Dooku remarked as he watched the crowd of military officers surrounding Damask and peppering him with questions. The Magister was dressed as extravagantly as he had been at Serenno, though in an entirely different outfit. This one also had hints of green, though the predominant color was the golden gleam of aurodium, which was painful to look at in the bright Kalee sun. And in contrast to the tall, ornate hat he'd worn on Serenno, here he wore a thin circlet of aurodium.

What kind of weapons do you think he's selling? Qui-Gon asked Dooku through their Force Bond. It seemed Qui-Gon had also guessed something of the reason Damask must have come here in person.

Dooku glanced at Damask, who was smoothly evading all questions, insisting they be saved for the presentation. The yam'rii seemed to have been as kept in the dark about what the Magister was offering as Dooku and Qui-Gon were.

I should think that would be obvious, Dooku said. I've looked into Damask Holdings. They're a bank and investment firm. They don't normally sell anything tangible at all.

It was strange, actually. Dooku could hardly imagine the yam'rii military investing time on something if they hadn't even been told what it was. Certainly it couldn't be an investment or a loan, as he would typically assume. Damask Holdings was too small to offer those things at such a scale. Certainly it could offer nothing like what the IBC currently was. He had to wonder what Damask had said to them to induce such interest in a complete unknown like his company, and in a completely unknown weapon.

That sounds more mysterious than obvious, Qui-Gon remarked. Dooku quelled his exasperation, resisting the urge to suggest Qui-Gon try a Holonet search to help him gain enlightenment on the matter. Not every answer had to come from a Force vision! Sometimes more mundane sources could provide the necessary clues. Still, perhaps his expectations in this regard were unfair.

He's clearly here representing a company his firm is highly invested in, Dooku supplied. And all of his firm's top investments are in biomedical and pharmaceutical research. Therefore, he must be offering the yam'rii a bioweapon. Damask seemed to think that he could somehow gain the approval of the Jedi for such a thing; Dooku intended to counter that belief with harsh reality.

Dooku felt Qui-Gon's revulsion. We have to put a stop to this.

I agree, Dooku said. And the point where we must apply pressure is the Magister himself.

How? Appeals to reason do not work on him, mind tricks do not work on him, perhaps nothing works on him. Dooku could sense Qui-Gon's frustration.

Before Dooku could answer, the General's firm voice interrupted his thoughts, rising in volume.

"And this is our friend Serthal," General Letiliss said to Damask, gesturing the dagger-like end of an arm delicately to the kaleesh woman. "In truth, this war is hardly about ourselves at all. Rather, we wish to free kaleesh like Serthal from the oppressive rule of warlords like Drennil."

"Yes," Serthal agreed. "In fact, it was a warlord very much like Drennil who General Letiliss ousted from my village." she frowned. "And it was Drennil himself who took my sister from me."

Damask made a sympathetic noise. "Such dreadful business, war."

The Magister shook Serthal's hand, and they exchanged polite niceties. Then Serthal murmured something that Dooku didn't catch and all three of them glanced at Qui-Gon and Dooku. The three aliens laughed.

"Hmmm, yes," Damask said. "Humans indeed."

Dooku endured the exchange with a resigned smile. He knew Serthal didn't much care for him or Qui-Gon.

Dooku turned his attention back to his conversation with Qui-Gon and smiled. You are overly pessimistic, my friend. The solution to our problem is simple. Damask is a businessman. This is about profit, so we appeal to the profit motive. By threatening it.

That seems so crass, Qui-Gon frowned.

There are lives at stake, Dooku replied. I will be as crass as necessary to save them.

I don't know. I don't like this. This kind of politicking is exactly the problem with the Council. Do we really want to sink to the level of the CEO's, the Senate, the Chancellor --,

Dooku gave him a sharp look. Do not, he warned, ever compare me to that travesty of a Head of State.

Sorry. I just think we should follow the will of the Force, Qui-Gon glanced over at the Magister and the assortment of yam'rii military officers currently orbiting him.

And what is the will of the Force, Qui-Gon? To wander aimlessly until a miracle falls into our lap, hmmm? This was an old disagreement between them. Dooku had to wonder where he had gone wrong with his Apprentice. But Qui-Gon had always been a stubborn one. A lot like Dooku himself, as other Jedi had often remarked.

No, the Living Force wills us to be active agents in our own destiny. It is hardly 'aimless wandering' that I am called to, even if it looks that way to you, Master. Will you at least let me try my way first before you employ every underhanded political trick you know? Qui-Gon asked.

Of course, Dooku said. But if that does not work, I will expect your full cooperation with implementing my 'underhanded political tricks', as you call them. Dooku had always allowed Qui-Gon to take his own approach to problems. To do otherwise would only allow his former Padawan to assume the approach would have worked.

If it does not work, Qui-Gon said, Then perhaps your way is the will of the Force after all.

Dooku smiled. You are diplomatic as always, Qui-Gon. We'll make a politician of you yet.

Qui-Gon gave him a pained look. I should hope not.

I know you will do your best, Dooku said. But there are situations where it is not possible to avoid getting one's hands dirty.

We must never concede ground to the Dark Side, Qui-Gon countered. Qui-Gon often felt uncomfortable with Dooku's approach to problems. It was one reason why he would have preferred to have been on this mission with Sifo-Dyas. But perhaps it was good to have an alternative perspective available.

Of course not , Dooku said. But ethics is more than just a matter of Light or Dark. Even if one stays in the Light, one can still unknowingly commit great evil. Or through inaction, allow it to take root.

Qui-Gon pondered this somberly. That is true. Dooku was proud of his former Padawan, despite their many disagreements. Qui-Gon had firm convictions, but he was still willing to listen to others even as he argued his own case.

Dooku was confident that together, they could convince Damask to remove himself from this war, leave Kalee, and never return.

Plagueis sat on the cot in the small room. It wasn't quite long enough for him to lay on, but fortunately he didn't need sleep. This would serve quite comfortably as an area from which to utilize his power during meditation.

It was time to make use of his Force Bond to Sidious. As this was not an externally directed power, it wasn't in danger of detection from anyone besides the source and recipient, though Plagueis was adept at masking even the more obvious uses of his power.

He had only infrequently done this in the past, but never with any difficulty. He closed his eyes and reached his mind across the tens of thousands of light years between them and found his Apprentice.

This time, instead of immediately speaking as he had during past contacts of this sort, he sent a short, wordless query.

Sidious did not immediately answer, but Plagueis had expected this. He waited, and within a few minutes, his Apprentice responded.

Master? Sidious asked. Is everything all right?

Yes, Plagueis said. I merely wished to talk, but this area is insufficiently secure for a comm call.

Ah, Sidious responded.

If you are busy, we can talk later, Plagueis said.

No, now is fine, Sidious assured him. Plagueis could see through the Force bond that he was watching Maul sleeping in his crib. What did you wish to discuss, Master?

Plagueis didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied the small infant Sidious watched in fascination. This was only the second time he'd seen Maul, and the first time he'd seen him outside of a holo. Maul was a brilliant red and black, with a crown of horn buds already beginning to grow out of his head. Plagueis had no desire to raise children himself, but he found them immensely intriguing. The bold beginnings of life.

Plagueis knew Maul was a zabrak-human hybrid, a being possible due to the genetic experimentation of the long-extinct rakata, who had enslaved most other species in the galaxy, including zabraks and humans. For whatever reason, they'd genetically modified many of their slave species to be able to hybridize with each other. Only a few of these species, such as muuns and grans, had not been included in this modification.

Plagueis had first learned of the rakata from his mother, whose career as a historian had given her ample background on the ancient galactic conquerors. Muuns were not typically prone to fanciful stories, a trait which tended to make his species poor liars. But his mother would weave frightening tales to thrill him into her readings of the histories. The rakata considered muun meat, specifically the meat of younglings, a special delicacy, she might say, reading directly from one of her many thick tomes. But then she might add something such as: A friend of mine once went home from school to visit her family but found all of them dead. The bodies of the parents had only a single large scorch mark over their hearts, but the bodies of her young siblings were mutilated, as if chewed on by animals. Yet the teeth marks did not look like animal teeth, and parts of their bodies had been sliced off, as if with a knife. The holo-recording on their home security device was blurry, but showed a short creature with two eyestalks extending horizontally from the lower sides of a muun-like head. She turned from the holo after hearing the sound of boots on tile from the hallway. Someone was still in the house. Then there would be a loud thumping noise outside the bedroom door and she would exclaim that they were coming to eat her delectable child up, much to young Hego's delight.

The rakata had been the unquestioned rulers of the galaxy for nearly 10,000 years. But no civilization lasted forever--as Plagueis planned for the tiny Maul to one day witness with the current unquestioned rulers of the stars.

Maul was also, more specifically, of the Dathomirian variant of zabrak-human hybrids. This variant, which comprised approximately half of Dathomirians to some degree or another, also had further genetic modification that was responsible for the patterns on their faces and bodies, and this modification was entirely Dathomirian in origin, specifically found only in the Nightsister and Nightbrother Dathomirians.

The genetic tinkering of both the rakata and the Dathomirians themselves were what history had written into Maul. But one day, Maul would write into history.

Wrenching his thoughts away from these intriguing digressions, he brought his attention back to the topic he'd wanted to ask about. I was wondering, what was the marriage for?

Sidious didn't answer for several long moments. Could you clarify that question?

The Coruscant Times, Plagueis said. It mentioned your visit to the Jedi Temple, though it was rather sparse on details. Congratulations on that, by the way. But I read the whole thing recently, and I noticed it said you were married. He'd been completely baffled by the brief mention of a Kycina Palpatine in the article. A Baneite Sith marrying was more than anomalous. It was unheard of.

Yes, Sidious said. It was for... political connections.

Really? Plagueis felt deeply puzzled. Sidious seemed more than capable of forging those by other means, and he'd certainly never expressed an interest in marriage. He'd even adopted the phrase that Plagueis had often used as an excuse to fend off would-be suitors--that he was 'married to the work'. Like all other Sith of his lineage, Sidious had never had any pragmatic concern he couldn't remedy with considerably fewer extraneous entanglements than matrimony would inevitably present. Until now, it seemed.

Yes. You can be sure it won't interfere with anything. And I will end it once it has served its purpose.

Oh. Understood, then. I'm sure you've thought this through. A part of him wanted to ask how his Apprentice planned to end this marriage, but he quelled the impulse. Normally, he would have pressed for more details, but he could only imagine Sidious was having a difficult enough time coping with the emotional additive, and he didn't want to stress him further. Plagueis wasn't sure what answer he wanted to hear, anyway. He vowed to himself that the Nightsisters would pay for the emotional turmoil they had caused his Apprentice.

Yes, every detail has been accounted for. Was there anything else? Sidious asked, looking over at a stuffed shaak occupying a table near Maul's crib. As usual, his Apprentice transmitted none of his emotions through the Force Bond, so Plagueis could only guess at what he was feeling, but unusually for him, he had chosen to share what he was seeing. Sidious' gaze moved from the stuffed shaak back to Maul.

Have you picked a Sith name for him? Plagueis asked.

Since I've made his legal name Maurice, I thought he could simply use his original name as his Sith name. Darth Maul has a good ring to it, I think.

Yes, agreed, Plagueis said. Though I must confess, I do not think he looks much like a Maurice.Perhaps he should be glad that Sidious had not come up with the Sith name for this one.

He actually felt amusement from Sidious then. If the name troubles him, he can always change it. And what a valuable insight into bureaucracy that could be, don't you think?

I suppose so, Plagueis said.

If I may ask, Sidious began, what is it you wish to accomplish on Kalee?

Plagueis hesitated. The answer to that was certainly not to prevent the yam'rii from squeezing Kalee dry of its resources, much as he had sought to squeeze Naboo dry of its plasma. It was certainly not to help end the death and destruction in the villages, towns, and sprawling cities, the poisoning of Kalee's jungles, the covert enslavement of its people, and the theft of their eggs by the yam'rii to be used as a delicacy food item. No, none of that was something a Sith Lord would care about at all.

Two things, Plagueis finally said. Firstly, the Kalee war is a major investment of Chairman Tonith's. Tonith stood a lot to gain if the yam'rii won the war. And it was expected that the yam'rii would win the war. After all, they had the support of the Republic and the IBC. And the kaleesh had the backing of no one at all.

Ah. I understand then. You do not like him.

An understatement, Plagueis said. He has been a thorn in my side for many years.

Why haven't you simply killed him, Master?

Because I want to see him suffer. This was not untrue, but there was more to the matter than that.

Fair, Sidious replied. What is your other interest in Kalee? You said you were there on Sith business?

Yes. The other interest are two Jedi. And Plagueis had been looking forward to discussing them with Sidious.

Ah. Any potential Apprentices?

Master Dooku. The last padawan of Yoda. Plagueis offered.

Oh. Fascinating.

There is much anger in him, Plagueis said.

He sounds most promising. And the other Jedi?

Another Jedi Master by the name of Qui-Gon Jinn. A former padawan of Dooku's. Not as prone to anger, but of interest to me as a subject of study.

Oh, Sidious' intonation flattened. About Dooku--do you think he will turn?

I anticipate it would take some time. But that seems very possible.

Might I be able to meet this Master Dooku sometime soon? While his tone was casual, Sidious rarely made such requests.

I will see if I can arrange for it, Plagueis said. I would most like to hear your thoughts on him. Though Sidious expressed little interest in uncovering most of the deeper mysteries of the Force, he often had keen insights on politics and people. Plagueis was very curious what he might think about Dooku. And of course, it would help immensely if he got along with any other Apprentices Plagueis might take.

Plagueis had to end the discussion soon after that, as having such a long conversation at this distance required a significant expenditure of Force energy to stand in for the external power of the entire galactic comm system. Still, it was a reasonably workable alternative. Perhaps he should use it more often.

It occurred to him that in all his research on Force Bonds, he'd never heard of a sustained conversation of this length happening at this distance. Certainly all of his previous uses of this ability at such a distance had been considerably briefer. He made a few quick notes on his datapad. He decided he should look further into this matter at some point.

Plagueis turned his mind back to his current plots. This was going to require some politicking. But that was not a problem. Plagueis might not be a politician as Sidious was, but he was still quite familiar with navigating such intricacies. Nevertheless, he thought Sidious had exceeded him quite significantly there. There was much he had learned from his Apprentice in that regard.

Though he wouldn't be emulating the marrying part. Whatever situation Sidious had gotten himself into with this Kycina and her political connections was already worrying him enough as it was.