Prologue

82 years before the Battle of Yavin

[hr]

Light burst out from behind the northern hemisphere of the rust-colored globe that was Zigoola, chasing oceans of shadow across the surface of the planet and then its three tiny moons, until it bathed the sleek chrome hull of the approaching starship in the advent of a new day.

Piercing in its intensity, the dawn temporarily dazzled the sight of Darth Plagueis, who flinched away from the transparisteel viewport that he?d been peering through. His eyes scrunched shut and he raised his massive hand to pinch the bridge of his long plateau of a nose between thumb and forefinger. As the sun-conjured specks of blindness danced from his vision, he turned back to regard the planet that he was currently hurtling towards.

Though technically fixed within the galactic plane designated by cartographers as Wild Space, Zigoola, its trio of satellites, and the scarlet nebula that unfurled behind it, lazed close to the threshold of the Unknown Regions. Its location was relatively unique among planets: situated within a realm of space that was far from civilized, far from the reach of the Galactic Republic. For this reason, it was an ideal repository world for the Sith order, which had been operating in secrecy for a millennium.

To Plagueis, Zigoola would have been a perfect choice if not for the fact that the major shipyard world of Mon Cala was a veritable stone?s throw away.

More than once during the standard century that comprised his apprenticeship under Darth Tenebrous, Plagueis had cautioned his Master to transfer Zigoola?s vast Sith archive to another location, perhaps another planet, moon, or even a space station?something more controlled, more defensible, and more remote. But while Tenebrous had listened patiently, he?d remained steadfast in his support of Darth Zannah?s decision to utilize Zigoola.

Bane?s apprentice certainly had her reasons for selecting the world, though Plagueis remained unconvinced by them: entrenched as they were in tradition and history, specifically regarding the infamous Darth Revan, for whom her late Master had all but deified in his reverence.

The fact that Revan ultimately played a hand in crippling the Sith?s efforts at the time by returning to the Jedi order was apparently of no consequence to him.

The ship?s steady approach was almost complete; Plagueis noted that Zigoola?s surface or, rather, the complex miasma of gasses that constituted its bloodstain-colored atmosphere?the result of long-term exposure to the particles of the neighboring nebula?had swelled to encompass the entirety of what was visible through the viewport, bullying aside the voice of space and silver pockmarks of distance stars.

Following Plagueis?s observation was a slight tremble that rippled through the length of the ship, alerting the Muun to the fact that the vessel punctured Zigoola?s atmosphere and was making its descent. By all rights, Plagueis should not have detected the turbulence, nor would he have had he been an ordinary Muun. The vessel was equipped with cutting edge technology, courtesy of his prosperous alliance with a quiet subsidiary of Santhe/Sienar Technologies; equipment of the sort that maximized luxury and minimized interruption. The hull had been retrofitted with prototype internal dampeners so refined that Plagueis could have directed the ship through the asteroid field of the Cron Drift without waking his pittin?figuratively, of course; Plagueis?s allergies compelled him to limit his interaction with most animals.

But an ordinary Muun Plagueis was not, and his attunement to the Force?honed thoroughly over the past hundred years?afforded him physical sensitivity exponentially superior to that of mundane sentient life.

A second after the jostles ceased, a synthesized baritone gave voice to that which Plagueis had already experienced:

?Lord Plagueis, we?ve breached atmo. ETA: approximately two minutes.?

?Thank you, Four-Dee,? said Plagueis, wryly. He didn?t bother pointing out that the Force had alerted him

 

Interesting!

 

Very interesting start. Please PM me when you update - I would like to keep reading.

 

I made several minor corrections to the above text, but TFN's window of editing is limited, so I'll post the corrected prologue along with chapter one by the end of the week.

Thanks.

Thanks and will do.
But as an aside, you can expect an update every Sunday/Monday unless notified by me here.

 

Excerpt from chapter one, which is to be posted Sunday or Monday. Enjoy!

[hr]

?Appropriate, I think,? mused Plagueis. ?After all, Zigoola is not this way because of rotting corpses or the residue of the ancient Sith. Nor has its secrets been plundered by the corrupt, the greedy, or the enemy. What is here is because of the archives?the lore we?ve compiled over the years.?

?Indeed,? nodded Tenebrous. ?We have the wisdom of Lady Zannah to thank for that, and the intuition of Revan before her. If they?d selected another world, perhaps one closer to the Core??it was there that Tenebrous?s tone briefly flared in accusation; Plagueis rolled his eyes??the archives would not have endured. Zigoola was an inspired choice.?

During her apprenticeship under Darth Bane, Zannah had become intimately familiar with the legend that was Revan. After she had assumed the mantle of Sith Master and the responsibility of perpetuating the order fell to her, she scoured the galaxy in search of a location that could function as a safe reliquary of Sith information?a vault that could hold the wealth of the Sith. Her quest compelled her to investigate her late Master?s extensive series of journals and it was from them that she became aware of the existence of Zigoola, which had been discovered and colonized by agents of Darth Revan during the outbreak of his war against the Republic.

At its zenith, Revan?s fiefdom encompassed a little more than a third of civilized space?but Mon Cala supposedly marked its farthest reaches, the extent of the turncoat?s thrust towards Wild Space.

Fortunately for the Sith, this conclusion was errant: it was Zigoola, not Mon Cala, that was the true outlier of Revan?s conquered territory. This truth might have been lost to time had fate not transpired to guide Bane to Lehon, where he found Revan?s holocron; and during the fateful encounter with the long-dead turncoat in which Bane was first introduced to the philosophy that would inspire him to fashion the Rule of Two, Revan had mentioned Zigoola.

The masked turncoat revealed to the captivated Bane that Zigoola was to be the launching point of concentrated expeditions into Wild Space following the Republic?s defeat. If Revan?s simulacrum had explained to his successor the reason behind these planned expeditions, Bane never articulated them either in writing or speech. Plagueis had reckoned that the plans found their origin in Revan?s well known penchant for exploration and investigation; his Master, on the other hand, had to Plagueis a justification born from Revan?s infamous sense of strategy: that he had been searching for evidence of the so-called ?True Sith??Vitiate?s empire?and Zigoola was but the first stage in the renegade Jedi?s plan to comb through the void of unknown space until he found them. Plagueis had been forced to concede that this was the more likely scenario.

 

Note: As promised, here's the entirety of Chapter One. I hope you enjoy! Please, read&review.

Chapter One


Plagueis entered the cockpit with more vigor than when he?d left it, energized both by the residual adrenaline coursing through his system from the near-confrontation with his Master and the implications of the Force-delivered epiphany that had interrupted it. He acknowledged that now was not the time for such contemplations, wary as he was of Tenebrous somehow divining what had transpired either through his command of the Force or his equally formidable intellect, but the timing of the disturbance was simply too peculiar to ignore.

Was it, perhaps, a consequence of their decision to journey to Zigoola? The world was strong in the Force, specifically Bogan, as a result of the temple?s archives. Or, more ominously, was the epiphany brought on by the mission itself, not the destination?

Plagueis cradled his chin and pondered this as quietly?and quickly?as he could. The entire trip had only been undertaken after weeks of entreaties by him to his Master, both advising and pleading that the two dedicate more of their time and effort to the investigation that had ensnared the Bith since the earliest days of his apprenticeship. Though Tenebrous had often derided Plagueis?s curiosity as dangerous obsession, he had nonetheless agreed to the pilgrimage?citing the fact that they had been neglecting Bane?s edict to periodically visit the archives, marinating themselves in a rare Bogan nexus, and exploring the wealth of lore that was its source.

Unlike his Master, the reason for the trip didn?t matter in the slightest to Plagueis, as long as it provided him the excuse he needed to explore his hunch. But if that was the source of the disturbance, how was he to interpret it? Was it a clue that Plagueis was on the right track, beginning his search on Zigoola and not Korriban, Ziost, or other worlds like them? Was the sensation that stayed his impulsive hand a hint that he would need his Master?s expertise in the time to come?

Or was it the third and most attractive interpretation of all: that the Force itself was offering its assent to Plagueis, perhaps suggesting coyly that it would?rather than obstruct?aid him in his endeavor? A search that could potentially grant him an understanding of the Force and a mastery over it that would be unprecedented.

Was it that the Force itself was at last prepared to reveal itself in its entirety to one of its adepts?

A heavy weight came to rest against Plagueis?s shoulder, hurling him from his thoughts, and infusing him with such panic that his right hand reflexively gripped cold metal?the pommel of the lightsaber dangling from his utility belt.

His yellow eyes darted to the source of the intrusion, apprehensive of its source, but relaxed when his vision beheld a limb of durasteel, not of flesh. It was Four-Dee, not Tenebrous.

?Lord Plagueis, are you well??

?Better than ever, old friend,? grinned Plagueis. He released the pommel and exhaled, willing two of his three hearts to resume their typical lethargy.

Four-Dee?s photoreceptors brightened, betraying his misgivings.

?I?m simply looking forward to what awaits within the archive,? assured Plagueis, waving aside the droid?s dubious inspection. ?It?s not often that circumstance allows us to visit. That?s all.?

?Your vitals have normalized,? Four-Dee conceded, before demurring: ?but they briefly spiked?symptomatic of a panic attack.?

?You simply detect chemical evidence of my enthusiasm,? objected Plagueis. He paused and arched an eyebrow at the droid. ?But while we?re on the subject, why is it that my privacy is so casually invaded? Am I some sort of specimen in a petri dish??

?Not at all,? reasoned the droid. ?But I am tasked with monitoring your physical health, Lord Plagueis. To ignore such readings or, worse yet, to not take them at all would be a violation of my service and a betrayal of function.?

That the topic had shifted from his bio-readings to a clarification of d

 

Wow. Just, wow. This is the type of fic which is necessary. What this site needs.

 

Thanks much!

I'm behind a little on my chapter due to schoolwork and social demands, but I should have the next chapter up anywhere from Sunday afternoon to Monday afternoon.

 

Take your time dude. Everyone knows how schoolwork and DarthRealLife can demand of aspiring authors. To that end, don't ruse it, and the quality of your work will be better.

 

Indeed.
I currently have three different drafts of Chapter Two, all written today, but I'm not sure which direction I prefer. There may indeed be a delay.