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“To be strong in the Force is one thing. But to believe oneself to be all-powerful is to invite catastrophe. Remember, that even in the ethereal realm we inhabit, the unforeseen can occur.”
A common misconception held that midi-chlorians were Force-carrying particles, when in fact they functioned more as translators, interlocutors of the will of the Force.
He knew from his travels with and without Tenebrous that he wasn’t the galaxy’s sole practitioner of the dark side—nor Sith for that matter, since the galaxy was rife with pretenders—but he was now the only Sith Lord descended from the Bane line. A true Sith,
An individual’s midi-chlorians seemed to know to whom they belonged and become unresponsive outside their dedicated vessel.
The task before him was at once invigorating and daunting, and in the eye of that cycloning storm he could hear the faraway voices of all those who had laid the goundwork of the Sith imperative—the Grand Plan; those who had enlivened the hurricane with their breath and lives: Darths Bane and Zannah, and on down through the generations that had included Cognus, Vectivus, Ramage, and Tenebrous. One hundred years earlier, Tenebrous’s Twi’lek Master had opened a small rend in the fabric of the Force, allowing the dark side to be felt by the Jedi Order for the first time in more than eight hundred
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In the same way that tectonic forces cause a boulder to plunge into a river, forever diverting its course, events give rise to individuals who, stepping into the current of the Force, alter the tide of history. You are such a one.
We Sith are an unseen opposition, Tenebrous had told his young apprentice. A phantom menace. Where the Sith once wore armor, we now wear cloaks. But the Force works through us all the more powerfully in our invisibility. For the present, the more covert we remain, the more influence we can have. Our revenge will be achieved not through subjugation but by contagion.
Tenebrous had told him from the start that the Republic, with help from the Sith, would continue to descend into corruption and disorder, and that a time would come when it would have to rely on the strengths of an enlightened leader, capable of saving the lesser masses from being ruled by their unruly passions, jealousies, and desires. In the face of a common enemy, real or manufactured, they would set aside all their differences and embrace the leadership of anyone who promised a brighter future. Could this Palpatine, with Plagueis’s help, be the one to bring about such a transformation?
“Uncertainty is the first step toward self-determination,” Plagueis said. “Courage comes next.”
The Sith are not placid stars but singularities. Rather than burn with muted purpose, we warp space and time to twist the galaxy to our own design.
Force lightning requires strength of a sort only a Sith can command because we accept consequence and reject compassion.
“The power of the dark side is an illness no true Sith would wish to be cured of.”
“He goes on to compare the Sith to a rogue or malignant cell, too small to be discovered by scans or other techniques, but capable of spreading silently and lethally through a system. Initially the victim simply doesn’t feel right, then falls ill, and ultimately succumbs.”
Through power we gain victory, and through victory our chains are broken. But power is only a means to an end.”
“On Eriadu some believe that a cleft chin identifies someone the Force has pushed away.”
💀💀💀
“Just this.” She opened the soft shoulder bag to reveal a humanoid infant of less than a standard year in age. The infant’s hairless head was stippled with an array of short but still pliant horns, and its entire body had been garishly and ceremonially tattooed in red and black pigments.
Bb Maul first appearance 🥺🥺
“The child, whether yours or not, is a Nightbrother, conceived for the purpose of serving the sisterhood as a warrior and slave.”
“In the annals of Sith history, you will be known as Plagueis the Wise.”
Remember why the Sith are more powerful than the Jedi, Sidious: because we are not afraid to feel. We embrace the spectrum of emotions, from the heights of transcendent joy to the depths of hatred and despair. Fearless, we welcome whatever paths the dark side sets us on, and whatever destiny it lays out for us.
Plagueis was about to mention Kamino when he spied Jocasta Nu approaching, and a feeling from deep in the dark side rose up inside him, strangling his voice box, as if refusing to let the word escape. “I apologize, Master Jedi,” he said when he could. “The name of the group was on the tip of my tongue, but I seem to have swallowed it.”
🤔🤔
“It means that the pregnancies were not achieved by normal means of conception, but rather through the Force.”
Anakin? 🤔🤔
“Not an apprentice; not someone who could ever aspire to become a true Sith Lord. But someone skilled in stealth and combat, who could be eliminated when no longer needed.”
Cruuuuuueell
We are all two-faced beings, divided by the Force and fated for eternity to search out our hidden identities.
Most important, for Plagueis the provincial conflict had had a devastating effect on Jedi Master Dooku, deepening his schism with the High Council regarding its decisions to deploy the Jedi as warriors.
“I stranded him on Hypori for a month without food and with only a horde of assassin droids for company. Then I returned to goad and challenge him. All things considered, he fought well, even after I deprived him of his lightsaber. He wanted to kill me, but was prepared to die at my hand.” Plagueis turned fully to face him. “Rather than punish him for disobedience, you praised his resolve.” “He was already humbled. I chose to leave his honor intact. I proclaimed him my myrmidon; the embodiment of the violent half of our partnership.”
“Who applied the markings?” “The mother did—in keeping with rituals enacted shortly after birth. An initiation, during which a Dathomirian Zabrak infant is submerged in an oily bath, energized with ichor conjured by the Nightsisters’ use of magicks.”
Such questions were precisely what had driven generations of Sith apprentices ultimately to challenge their Masters. The uncertainty about who was the more powerful.
Political mastery and mastery of the Force. Someday soon, the Sith would wield both, with Sidious the face of the former and Plagueis behind the scenes, advising him about the latter.
“To that end, we must begin to move Viceroy Nute Gunray and King Veruna into position.
Ah yes, moving into Episode One
But has a political body ever succeeded in being the arbiter of what is right and just?
“Only Dooku and a handful of others have grasped the truth. All those years ago when I first met him on Serenno, I thought: What a blow it would be to the Order if he could be enticed to leave and embrace the dark side. What a panic it might incite. For if one could leave, then ten or twenty or thirty could follow, and the hollowness at the center of the Order would be plain for all to see.”
Conspicuously absent was Theed’s teenage governor, Padmé Naberrie, whose appointment had been Veruna’s compromise to an electorate that had been growing more oppositional with each passing year.
On the same day they had allowed Venamis to die. Then, by manipulating the Bith’s midi-chlorians, which should have been inert and unresponsive, Plagueis had resurrected him. The enormity of the event had stunned Sidious into silence and overwhelmed and addled 11-4D’s processors, but Plagueis had carried on without assistance, again and again allowing Venamis to die and be returned to life, until the Bith’s organs had given out and Plagueis had finally granted him everlasting death.
Drunk on newfound power, then, he had attempted an even more unthinkable act: to bring into being a creation of his own. Not merely the impregnation of some hapless, mindless creature, but the birth of a Forceful being.
The abandoned LiMerge Building had become the assassin’s home and training center; The Works and the fringes of the nearby Fobosi district, his nocturnal haunts.
Plagueis was right, Sidious thought. I have made him prideful.
Sidious’s smile barely escaped the cowl. “Even better, then. I am a Sith Lord.” There. I said it. I said it…
“Her name is Komari Vosa, and word has it that she is a former Jedi.”
“I’m giving thought to leaving the Order,” Master Dooku told Palpatine in the windowless room that was the Senator’s private study. “I can no longer abide the decisions of the Council, and I have to be free to speak my mind about the wretched state of the Republic.”
Dooku’s eyes flashed. “One man should be able to make a difference if he is powerful enough.”
They await the coming of a prophesized redeemer who will bring balance to the Force and restore order.”
Eriadu Senator Wilhuff Tarkin,
I thought it was his cousin in the senate???
graciously curved speeder bike he had named Bloodfin
Okay edgelord
The realization that his Master could be deceived, that he wasn’t infallible, had had a curious effect on Maul.
Surely Sidious felt as if Plagueis had made himself too much of a project, often to the neglect of the Grand Plan; that Plagueis had come to place more importance on his own survival than that of the Sith.
An up-and-coming contender at ten years of age and a champion at twelve. Under the markings that masked his face, sleeved his arms, and twisted around his legs and torso, the scars of those battles to the death. But this one will not be content until he has killed a Jedi Master, Sidious thought. Assuming that pride didn’t defeat him first.
How would he react to learning that his Master answered to a Master?
“Well, someone had to have dealt the wound you suffered to your left hand. Unless, of course, you gave it to yourself.”
He’s a pouty baby 😭😭 “IM SO STRONG” “yeah? Then how’d you get hurt?” “😒😒😒”
“And if by some marvel Garyn had managed to escape, or even defeat the one-being army that is Darth Maul, what repercussions might we be facing, Apprentice?”
This bitch is acting like he didn’t just reveal himself as Darth Sidious to the leader of the Trade Federation IN FRONT OF his own apprentice
“This may be the last time I’m permitted to appear in public without armed escort,” he said in a casual way. “When Queen Amidala informed me of Veruna’s unexpected death, she mentioned that her new chief of security—a man named Panaka—will be taking unprecedented steps to ensure the safety of all Naboo diplomats. The Queen, for example, is to be surrounded by a clutch of handmaidens, all of whom resemble her to some extent.”
