The Grand Convocation Chamber was alive with noise whispers, posturing, movements of entire star systems reduced to voices echoing in a single domed hall. The floating senator pods drifted like small moons, converging and dividing in ever-shifting alliances.
At the center, in a raised seat of polished crimson and gold Chancellor Palpatine sat composed, thoughtful, watching the storm unfold beneath him.
His demeanor was one of patience.
His eyes, however, tracked power the way a hunter tracks blood in snow.
Below, the Separatist Crisis spread like cracks through ancient marble.Worlds withdrawing. Corporations arming. Banks renegotiating their loyalty.
Senators argued.
"The Republic must act!"
"We must negotiate!"
"We cannot afford war!"
"We cannot afford peace!"
But the Chancellor simply listened.
Because war was already coming. And he needed to appear the reluctant participant.
Across the chamber, Jedi Master Mace Windu rose.
"We do not have an army."
His voice echoed.
"To go to war now would be suicide."
A wave of uneasy agreement rippled through the Senators.
Palpatine breathed once soft measured.
He did not speak.
He did not need to.
Everything was going exactly to plan.
Across the skyline of Coruscant, in a tower of gleaming black steel, Palpus observed the Senate session through a silent holo-feed. His hands were clasped behind his back, posture perfectly straight.
A Sith did not lean.A Sith did not fidget.A Sith waited.
Beside him hovered a projection of market data:
Kuat Drive Yards: 58.3% secure
Corellian Engineering Corporation: 11% under acquisition
Fondor Shipyards: 16% covert interest established
But it was the newest report that drew Palpus' eyes.
Unusual order activity detected in bio-genetic development contracts.
Palpus smiled.
The clones were being prepared.
Not by him.Not by the Republic.Not even by the Jedi.
But by the Sith who was now ash and memory.
Plagueis' last gift.
Palpus touched the screen.
"Father will claim it was arranged for the Republic's protection. The Senate will beg for an army, believing itself in danger."
He breathed in deeply.
"And they will march into our war willingly."
In the High Council Chamber, sunlight poured through translucent windows. The skyline flickered like fire beneath the Jedi's quiet elite.
Master Yoda leaned on his cane, ears tucked low in contemplation.
"The future is clouded."
Windu folded his arms.
"The Separatists move with intent and resources. Someone is funding them, guiding them."
Obi-Wan spoke next, worry edging into his voice.
"Dooku perhaps?"
Yoda's eyes narrowed.
"A Jedi, he was. Yet lost, perhaps he is."
Windu exhaled.
"If the Republic falls into war unprepared, we will lose. The Senate is desperate. They look to the Chancellor."
Behind them, Anakin sat silently, listening.
He was not meant to be there.
Yet no one had the heart to make him leave.
His jaw tightened.
War.He understood war.He had lived war.
But the Jedi spoke of it as if it were abstract.Theory. Principle. Politics.
They did not understand that war had a smell. A taste. A weight.
That war left ghosts.
He closed his eyes.
And somewhere far across Coruscant
Palpus felt him.
A flicker in the Force.A spark.An ember waiting for wind.
Soon.
Not yet.
The Chancellor's private chambers were silent when Palpus entered. Curtains closed. Candles burning low. The galaxy map hovered between them like a glowing, floating starfield.
Palpatine did not turn.
"The Council feels the approach of conflict."
"But they do not see its shape," Palpus replied.
Father and son stood facing the galaxy, hands folded behind their backs in the same posture, unspoken synchronicity.
Palpatine: "Reports of Separatist shipbuilding are increasing."
Palpus: "Kuat is ready to triple output by year's end."
Palpatine: "And the Republic will request military expansion."
Palpus: "And they will find only one company capable of fulfilling the demand."
Their gazes met.
They smiled the same quiet, merciless smile.
Palpatine's voice lowered:
"And the Jedi?"
Palpus:
"Still blind. The Veil holds. They feel darkness but cannot see us."
Palpatine nodded once.
"Then the Clone War begins soon."
Palpus stepped forward.
His voice was soft. Almost reverent.
"Not yet. We need the Extractor first."
Palpatine's expression sharpened with curiosity.
"Progress?"
Palpus allowed himself a breath of satisfaction.
"The plasma lattice is complete. And the gravity well anchor is stable. Soon, we test it on a dwarf star."
Palpatine's smile widened slow and terrible.
"When we can swallow suns…"
"…we no longer need to conquer planets."
Their eyes burned gold in the dim light.
Two shadows.
One will.
Anakin knelt in meditation.
But meditation did not quiet the storm in him.
He felt movement.Not of wind.Not of thought.
But of destiny.
And somewhere across the city,
it felt him back.