Chapter 7: 7. The Sith
===Sheev Palpatine===
Sheev Palpatine sat at his desk, reviewing reports about the blockade above his home planet, Naboo. He cared little for the people or the planet itself—only for what it could offer him to further his own ambitions.
Suddenly, a sharp pain struck his head, so intense it knocked him from his chair.
"Gah!"
He clutched his forehead, propping himself up with one elbow. One of the guards quickly moved to assist him.
"Are you all right, Senator?" the man asked.
"Ah, yes, thank you," Palpatine replied, still reeling from the headache.
The guard helped him back into his seat and motioned to the other to fetch help.
"I'm quite fine now. Please, don't trouble anyone on my behalf," Palpatine added, feigning indifference.
"Are you sure, sir? It's no trouble," the guard insisted.
"I'm sure. I think I just need a moment to rest," Palpatine said, allowing the guard to fuss over him for a bit before the man finally left.
Then, he felt it—death. The slaughter.
An evil smile curled on his lips as he gazed out the window toward the Jedi Temple. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but he could sense the Jedi dying. He was certain his Master felt it too.
"Well, it looks like I need a walk," Palpatine murmured, standing up and heading for the door, making his way toward the Jedi Temple.
===Sebastian===
The Black Templar strode from the Jedi Temple, his armor slick with blood. He powered down his sword, hefted his shield, and surveyed the planet around him. It appeared to be a hive world, though one unlike any he had encountered before. A mixture of disdain and suspicion rose within him as he took in the scene. There were no orbital weapons, no statues of Imperium warriors, no gothic spires, and, most glaringly, no imperial Aquila.
It was disgusting.
His blood began to boil as his optics scanned the people going about their business, oblivious to the chaos unfolding beyond their little bubble of influence.
Sirens wailed in the distance, drawing closer. Raising his shield, he decided to investigate, watching as a dozen flying machines descended before him. They released squads of soldiers and automata, forming a line to confront him.
"Drop your weapons!" one of the men shouted.
Sebastian did the opposite, tightening his grip on his sword and shield.
"Identify yourself, guardsman," he demanded.
The man hesitated, then repeated his order. "DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"
Sebastian stood firm, unshaken.
"LAST CHANCE, DROP YOUR WEAPONS OR WE'LL OPEN FIRE!" the man shouted, drawing a blaster pistol and pointing it at the towering figure before him.
"You dare threaten me?" Sebastian growled, stepping forward with malice in his stride.
"OPEN FIRE!" The captain screamed.
The roar of blaster fire erupted, but the bolts shattered against the Black Templar's armor, leaving him completely unharmed.
"May the Emperor have mercy on your souls, for I will not!" Sebastian bellowed, launching himself into the throng of soldiers and machines.
His blade flashed in the air, cutting through the ranks with a single swipe. Men and automata fell in pieces, blood and oil spraying across the ground. He hurled his shield into the line of enemies to his left, reducing their bodies to broken heaps. His sword swung out again, scattering limbs and coating the steps of the Jedi Temple red.
Screams echoed in the air as Sebastian pressed forward, cutting down those who dared stand in his way. The remaining forces broke formation, retreating toward their ships, firing wildly as they fled.
"Weaklings!" Sebastian shouted through his helmet, raising his left hand and aiming his bolt pistol.
His first shot obliterated the top half of a man attempting to climb into a transport, the bolt ripping through the ship's hull. The transport continued to fly, but it was only a moment before his second shot detonated the vessel, sending it plummeting to the ground far below.
The remaining soldiers scrambled to board the other transports, but they, too, met the same fate. Sebastian emptied his magazine, each shot finding its mark.
One man, too slow to escape, screamed in terror as he lost his grip and fell from the transport. His chest slammed against the edge of the platform, and he dangled there, panicked and desperate.
"No! No!" he cried, his fingers desperately clawing for purchase.
Sebastian walked over, his heavy steps shaking the platform before reaching down to seize the man by his uniform. With a grunt, he hoisted him up to eye level.
"You'll tell me everything about this planet. Then, I'll decide whether you live or die. Understand?" Sebastian said coldly.
The man trembled in pure horror.
Before the conversation could continue, another transport appeared, landing on the platform. Instead of guards, two men stepped out, their faces concealed by shadow.
"Quickly, we don't have much time before more arrive!" one of the men urged, motioning for Sebastian to board.
Sebastian stared at them with disdain.
"I would welcome more," he said, his voice dripping with contempt.
The other man seemed unfazed. "I don't doubt it, but surely you wouldn't want an entire planet out to kill you?"
Sebastian smiled darkly. "A great honor. I would welcome the challenge."
The man's voice turned desperate. "Please, just come with us. We can help you with whatever you need!"
The Black Templar paused, considering the offer. After a moment, he made up his mind.
"You should have spoken sooner." He glanced down at the man still dangling from his grip, then casually tossed him off the platform. The man screamed as he fell into the abyss below.
Sebastian stepped onto the transport, feeling it sink under his weight before it lifted off. The two men stood silently, watching him from beneath their hoods. The taller of the two had unsettling yellow eyes, though his hood and respirator concealed most of his face.
"Speak," Sebastian commanded, his voice cold.
The taller man's yellow eyes narrowed, as though he believed he held some measure of importance. Sebastian couldn't care less. This world was untouched by the Imperium, and in his eyes, it held no real significance. That, and the fact that the world seemed Xeno-friendly—the tall one's eyes alone were enough to make Sebastian suspect he was either a Xeno or a warp-tainted human like the ones he had just slaughtered.
"First, let me ask you a question. Who are you, and why did you slaughter the Jedi at the temple?" the younger man asked.
"I told you to speak, not ask questions," Sebastian replied coldly. He leaned in, bringing himself face-to-face with the younger man. "Now, if you want to leave this transport alive, you'd better start talking." He paused, eyes narrowing. "My patience is running thin."
Before the younger man could respond, the older man raised a hand, silencing him.
"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation you're in," The Xeno said, his voice measured but firm. "We've chosen to intervene because we share similar goals. Let us find common ground, where we both benefit." He gestured toward his companion. "My apprentice will explain everything as we go. But for now, we've arrived."
The transport doors hissed open, revealing a dark platform stretching into the unknown.
"Please, follow me," The Xeno said, stepping out first.
Sebastian merely hummed in response, stepping out of the transport side by side with the younger man. Without warning, he raised his bolt pistol and fired once, the shot echoing as it struck the man square in the back.
===Sheev Palpatine===
The droid—whatever it was—didn't seem to understand the position it was in. After feeling the chaos erupting at the Jedi Temple, Palpatine had contacted his master, Plagueis, who had ordered him to prepare a transport. The two had met, then traveled together to the Jedi Temple to investigate what had happened.
It was there they encountered the massive metal figure, a Droid—or at least, that's what they assumed it was. The droid had just finished slaughtering the Coruscant guards, and as Palpatine stepped forward to ask it to follow, the machine casually tossed the man it was holding off the side of the platform, sending him plummeting into the abyss below.
The ride to the underground facility at the bottom of the LiMerge building wasn't long, but Palpatine sensed something unusual about this "droid." He could feel it—the creature's killing intent towards his master. His mind raced with the possibilities before him, and he had to admit, he liked what he saw.
Using his mastery of the Force to mask thoughts and feelings, Palpatine concealed the killing intent from the metal man, knowing that Plagueis wasn't as adept in this subtle art as he was.
"My apprentice will explain everything as we go. But for now, we've arrived," Plagueis said as the transport doors hissed open, revealing a dark platform stretching into the unknown.
Plagueis stepped out first, and Palpatine followed, the mechanical figure next to him. But then, Palpatine felt it—a sudden surge of killing intent. Before he could react, the man raised his left hand, holding some kind of weapon, and fired. The shot rang out, striking his master in the back.
It was a split second, but Palpatine was fast. He masked the intent from Plagueis, even as the bolt tore through his master's protective plate, exploding in a burst of shrapnel.
Plagueis screamed in pain as the blast shredded his back, sending debris deep into his body. His respirator sparked and died, choking him in the process.
Palpatine couldn't help himself. He began to laugh, a low, cruel cackle, as he walked toward his master, who was still struggling to move, his body wracked with pain.
"Now I am the master, and you, old friend, are nothing more than a nuisance," Palpatine sneered. Lightning crackled from his fingertips, lashing out and enveloping Plagueis in a vicious storm.
Plagueis gurgled and screamed, smoke rising from his charred body as violent convulsions wracked his form. Palpatine let the torture drag on, enjoying the moment. He paused briefly, letting his master have a brief respite before starting again, laughing even harder this time.
Sebastian, still standing off to the side, watched with cold indifference. But as he observed Palpatine's actions, a new understanding formed in his mind. The younger man torturing his master was the apprentice—the one who had been so eager to make a deal moments ago.
If these two were willing to betray and destroy each other in an instant, what would they do to him?
After what felt like an eternity, Palpatine finally brought an end to Plagueis's suffering, the crackle of lightning ceasing as the body of his former master lay still. A sudden wave of euphoria washed over him as the Dark Side of the Force anointed him the true master, filling him with raw power. But that brief moment of triumph was shattered by the sharp hum of a power sword activating, crackling with energy.
Palpatine turned, locking eyes with the Black Templar, whose red optics glowed menacingly in the dim light.
"Thank you for helping me rid myself of this man," Palpatine said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I've been planning this for some time, but you gave me the perfect opportunity."
Despite the violence that had just unfolded, Palpatine's tone remained calm, almost cordial. "I still wish to find a way for us to help each other. Please, follow me, and I'll answer any questions you might have." He gestured toward a black door in the distance, which slid open with a soft hiss at his command.
Sebastian glanced down at the fallen man, his expression unreadable. If it came to it, he would deal with Palpatine, but for now, he needed answers. The brief alliance might allow him to learn something useful—but Sebastian didn't trust him at all.
"Very well. Lead on," the Black Templar said, his voice low and measured as he holstered his bolt pistol on his left thigh, and deactivated his power sword.
Palpatine, seemingly unconcerned with the possibility of another attack, turned his back on Sebastian and started walking toward the door.
Before following after the man, Sebastian nudged Plagueis's charred body with his foot, rolling it over as he searched for something.
"Another one." The Black Templar muttered to himself as he retrieved a cylindrical tube—one of the weapons these beings used—from the robes of the burnt corpse.
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