Star Wars - Darth Plagueis

fair,” Hill said evenly.
    Teem gave him a scathing glance. “Fairness has no part in it. You’re interested only in having the directorate do your bidding on Coruscant.” Abruptly, he got to his big feet and ground his square teeth. “Even a rate hike for Malastare’s fuel will profit Damask Holdings and the Trade Federation more than it will me!”
    The Gran showed the Muuns his back and began to stamp toward the door, leaving his aide to stir in confusion for a moment, before he, too, rose and hurried out.
    Hill’s mouth was open in surprise. “He can’t—”
    “Let him go,” Damask said.
    The elder Muun compressed already thin lips. “If we’re to benefit from the power they wield in the Senate, we’ll need to find some way to placate them, Hego.”
    “I disagree,” Damask said. “We need to find a way to show Teem that he is expendable.”
    By the time the guards had ushered in the quartet of Gossams who managed Subtext Mining, his ire had risen so high in his throat he could taste it. Typical of their diminutive species, the three saurians had reverse-articulated legs, fish-shaped heads, and long necks Damaskknew he could snap with two fingers—and perhaps would, for how they had double-crossed Tenebrous.
    “We were stunned to receive your invitation, Magister,” Subtext’s chief operating officer said. “We had no idea we were even on your scanners.”
    Damask smiled thinly. “We keep a close watch on galactic events. I trust you’ve been enjoying our food and entertainment?”
    “More than you know, Magister,” the chief Gossam said with a meaningful laugh. “Or perhaps more than we care to admit.”
    Damask forced a kindred laugh. “More than I know … That’s very funny indeed.” He broke off laughing to add, “Allow us to show you how we execute some of the inner workings of the Gathering.”
    The Gossams looked at one another in surprise before their leader said, “We’d be honored.”
    Damask stood and nodded to four of the Sun Guards, who fell in alongside the Gossams as he, Hill, and two other Muuns led them to a bank of ancient turbolift cars.
    “All the real action takes place below,” Damask said, setting the car in motion with a wave of his hand.
    In silence they descended two levels, and when the car’s doors parted, they filed into a cavernous underground hall. Central to the dimly lighted space were several large square platforms that could be raised by means of hydraulic poles, operated by separate teams of sweating, snuffling snub-nosed Ugnaughts. One platform, burdened with a slag heap of metal, was just descending, to sounds of raucous cheering and wild applause entering through an opening in the towering ceiling. Secured by manacles and chains on an adjacent platform writhed a hissing, snarling, fanged beast the size of a bantha.
    “We’re directly beneath the central courtyard,” Damask explained as the beast-laden platform was elevating. “Each cargo symbolizes an abhorrent aspect of the Republic—practices we all wish to see overturned.”
    By then the platform had been raised to the level of the courtyard. The crowd quieted for a moment, then, simultaneous with massive discharges of energy, erupted into ovation once more.
    “Those discharges were the laser cannons doing their work,” Damask said loudly enough to be heard as the platform dropped backinto view, revealing that what had been the beast was now a smoking, foul-smelling husk of sinew and bone. He aimed a sinister smile at the Gossams. “It’s all theater, you understand. Merriment for the masses.”
    “Obviously a real crowd-pleaser, Magister,” one of the Gossams said, swallowing some of his words.
    Damask spread his thin arms wide. “Then you must join in.” Approaching, he nodded his chin toward one of the empty platforms, beside which the Sun Guards had positioned themselves. “Climb aboard.”
    The saurians stared at him.
    “Go ahead,” Damask said, without humor now. “Climb aboard.”
    Two of the guards brandished blasters.
    The chief Gossam looked from one Muun to the next, terror widening his eyes. “Have we done something to displease you, Magister?”
    “A good question,” Damask said. “Have you?”
    The chief Gossam didn’t speak until all four had clambered up onto the platform. “Precisely how did we come to your notice?”
    “A mutual friend brought you to our attention,” Damask said. “A Bith named Rugess Nome. You recently supplied him with a