Star Wars - Darth Plagueis

made it public, when actually only someone with access to the family archives could have discovered it.”
    His interest piqued, Plagueis said, “What is the name of the royal family?”
    “Palpatine.”
    “And the son?”
    “Just that. He goes by the cognomen alone.”
    Plagueis leaned back in the chair to consider this, then said, “We may have found a potential ally—someone willing to keep us informed of the royals’ plans for the election.”
    “An agent,” Hill said. “An inside man, as it were.”
    Plagueis canceled the mute function. “We wish to visit Naboo in order to discuss these matters face-to-face.”
    Veruna was clearly surprised. “A public appearance by you would allow us to refute any allegations of secret collusion.”
    “Then all of us have something to gain.”
    Veruna bowed at the waist. “It will be our great honor to welcome you, Magister Damask.”
    Later it would be said by Naboo and Gungan alike that they couldn’t recall a colder winter than the one that followed Hego Damask’s autumnal visit to their world. The rivers and even the falls below Theed froze; the rolling plains and tall forests were blanketed three meters deep with snow; plasmic quakes rocked the Gallo Mountains and the Lake Country, the Holy Places and the undersea city of Otoh Gunga; and many of the egresses of the underwaterways that hollowed the planet were blocked by ice floes.
    Tapalo and Veruna had insisted on sending one of Naboo’s signature starships to transport the Muuns from Muunilinst, and the sleek Nubian had set down at Theed spaceport, a small facility that would have to be enlarged twentyfold if Naboo hoped to one day become a player in galactic commerce. The city itself struck Plagueis as the very antithesis of Harnaidan; where the capital of Muunilinst was vertical, angular, and austere, Theed was low, convex, and condensed, dominated byrotundas crowned with verdigris domes or flat roofs and tiered towers supported by round-topped archways. A river and several tributaries ran through the place, spanned by filigreed bridges and plunging in a series of high falls from an escarpment to verdant flatlands below.
    A cortège of air skimmers carried the black-robed Muuns through streets better suited to pedestrian traffic to the interior courtyard of an ancient palace, where pretender to the throne Bon Tapalo, Veruna, and several other human advisers and would-be ministers of both sexes were on hand to welcome them. Draped in shimmersilk robes and propped by boots with high heels, the bearded and blond-haired Tapalo already carried himself like a regent—albeit of a second-rate world—remaining seated while Hego Damask and the rest of the Muuns were introduced, and flanked by guards dressed in flare-skirted uniforms and armed with vintage blasters. Veruna, on the other hand, immediately fell into step alongside Damask as the Muuns were being escorted into the central building of the complex.
    “As I said when we spoke weeks back, Magister Damask, we are honored by your visit.”
    “And as I told you then, we all have something to gain.” Damask turned slightly to look down at him. “Especially you, I suspect.”
    Veruna gestured to himself in question. “I—”
    “Not now,” Damask said softly. “When the time is right, you and I will confer privately.”
    Under a broad arch and through a lobby of polished stone they moved as a group, ultimately arriving at a second small courtyard where several tables had been set up, some overflowing with food and drink, and the largest reserved for the Muuns. No sooner were they seated than servants appeared and began serving food, including various meats that the Muuns politely declined. The practice of consuming food while conducting business was one that Damask had grown to tolerate in his dealings with humans, but in secret he detested it.
    For many years he had detested the company of humans, as well. Barbaric meat eaters that they were, humans were a highly evolved species. Given their native intelligence and shrewd faculties, they deserved to be treated with the same deference Muuns were afforded. And yet many of the galaxy’s sapient species considered themselves to be equal to humans, who had only themselves to blame. Unlike Muuns, humanshad no compunctions about lowering themselves to the level of less advanced beings—the slow-witted, disadvantaged, needy, and pitiful—making a pretense of equality and demonstrating a willingness to