Star Wars - Darth Plagueis

“No. No.”
    His father’s tone turned harsh. “This is for your own good.”
    Palpatine’s nostrils flared. “Father of lies,” he muttered. “How would you know what’s good for me? Have you ever even cared? This is about my friendship with Hego Damask, isn’t it?”
    The elder Palpatine snorted in derision. “Is that what you think it is? Damask is merely using you as a means of securing information about our strategies for the election.”
    “Of course he is.”
    Taken aback momentarily, Cosinga said, “And yet you continue to … befriend him.”
    “What you consider the rape of Naboo, I consider to be an essential step forward, and Hego Damask a blessing. He’s powerful, influential, and brilliant—more so than any of my professors. Head and shoulders above you or any of your royal confederates.”
    Cosinga’s lip curled. “It begins to sound to me that this confrontation goes beyond mere political differences.”
    “You know it does. You’re using the situation as an excuse to put me under your thumb again.”
    “Which wouldn’t be necessary if you showed even the slightest ability to conduct yourself appropriately.”
    Palpatine sniffed. “My social infractions and trespasses. I refuse to go over old ground.”
    “You’re easy on yourself, considering the shame you’ve nearly brought on us.”
    “I’ve brought no more shame on the family than you have.”
    “We’re not discussing me,” Cosinga said.
    Palpatine threw up his hands. “All right. Leave me on Chommell Minor—but I won’t remain there.”
    “I can see to it that you do.”
    “By assigning some of your musclemen to keep me in line? I’m a lot smarter than them, Father.”
    Cosinga made his lips a thin line. “After what you already did to counter our plans for Tapalo, there can be no hint of scandal. Have you no idea what’s at stake for Naboo?”
    “And for you,” Palpatine said, with a sly smile. “The brother of your mistress becomes king, and you attain the lofty position you’ve always desired but don’t deserve.”
    Cosinga flung his words with cruel abandon. “It will be so good to have you gone.”
    “Finally you admit as much.”
    Cosinga was suddenly crestfallen. “You’re as much a mystery to me now as you were when you were young.”
    Palpatine’s smile bloomed. “Only because you lack the ability to understand me fully.”
    “Grandiose, as ever.”
    “Grandiose, in fact , Father. You have no idea what I’m capable of. No one does.”
    Cosinga exhaled deeply. “I know that you are of my blood, because I had you tested, just to be certain. But in truth, I don’t know where you came from—who or what you’re actually descended from.” He glared at Palpatine. “Yes, there it is: that glower I have been on the receiving end of for seventeen long years. As if you want to murder me. Murder has always been in your thoughts, hasn’t it? You’ve merely been waiting for someone to grant you permission to act.”
    A darkness came over Palpatine’s face. “I don’t need anyone’s permission.”
    “Precisely. You’re an animal at heart.”
    “King of the beasts, Father,” Palpatine said.
    “I knew this day would come. I’ve known it since the first moment I tried to swaddle you, and you fought me with a strength that was too powerful for your size or age.”
    Palpatine looked out from beneath his quirked brows. “I was born mature, Father, fully grown, and you hated me for it, because you grasped that I was everything you can never be.”
    “Hated you more than you know,” Cosinga said, allowing his ire to rise once more. “Enough to want to kill you from the start.”
    Palpatine stood his ground. “Then you had better do it now.”
    Cosinga took a step in Palpatine’s direction, only to be hurled back against the bulkhead separating the communications room from the main cabin. A female voice from behind the closed hatch asked in distress, “What was that?”
    Nursing an injured shoulder, Cosinga looked suddenly like a trapped animal, his eyes wide with surprise and fear. He made a move to strike the handplate that opened the hatch, but Palpatine thwarted his effort without raising a finger. Twisting violently around, Cosinga fell over one of the acceleration chairs, bloodying his face as it struck the armrest.
    A pounding began on the hatch.
    “Guards!” Cosinga shouted, but the word had barely left his lips when the bulkhead against which he was slouched buckled inward,