The chamber beneath Coruscant did not appear on any Republic schematics.
It lay far below the Senate district, beneath layers of durasteel and forgotten infrastructure, carved into bedrock that had not seen light in millennia. The air was cold. Dry. Still.
Only one illumination source existed — a single suspended holoprojector casting pale blue light over a circular chamber of black stone.
Count Dooku knelt at its center.
His cape was torn at the hem. His posture still aristocratic — even on one knee.
The air crackled.
A shadow loomed before him.
Darth Sidious stood tall, cloaked, his face half-hidden beneath his hood. The faint light caught the unnatural pallor of his skin and the faint yellow glow behind his eyes.
"Say it again," Sidious said quietly.
Dooku kept his gaze lowered.
"Anakin Skywalker intercepted the holoprojector," he replied evenly. "He does not know what it contains."
Sidious' fingers twitched.
Lightning erupted.
It struck Dooku full in the chest, lifting him from the ground and slamming him against the far wall in a violent arc of white-blue agony.
Dooku did not scream.
Not loudly.
Sidious lowered his hand.
Dooku fell, smoking slightly, but still composed.
"You lost the plans," Sidious said, voice no longer quiet.
"They can be recovered," Dooku replied, breathing controlled. "The boy does not yet understand what he has."
Sidious turned away sharply, pacing in a tight arc.
"No," he murmured to himself. "No, no, no… this is not how it unfolds."
Dooku remained silent.
Sidious stopped and looked back at him.
"You were to test the Jedi. Provoke war. Not expose the culmination of decades of quiet construction."
"The plans were not complete," Dooku countered carefully. "The Geonosians still refine the reactor matrices. The main weapon is yet to be completed."
Sidious's head tilted slightly.
"Do not attempt to placate me."
Dooku lowered his gaze again.
Sidious resumed pacing.
"A Sith Pureblood," he said softly.
He let the words linger in the air.
"A relic species thought extinct. Hidden in plain sight within the Jedi Order."
He began to chuckle under his breath.
"Plagueis."
The name carried venom.
"He hid him from me."
Dooku's eyes flickered slightly.
Sidious' voice sharpened.
"You saw him. Speak."
Dooku lifted his chin slightly.
"It was undeniable when he removed his mask. The red skin, the ridges, the eyes. Anakin Skywalker claimed to descend from a line of ancient Sith nobles."
Sidious' expression darkened.
"And his power?"
Dooku paused.
"Considerable."
Lightning flashed again — not striking Dooku, but arcing wildly across the chamber walls in a momentary burst of rage.
Sidious's hands trembled slightly.
"Plagueis meddled further than I anticipated."
He stopped pacing and stood perfectly still.
"The boy is not meant to awaken yet," he whispered.
Dooku spoke cautiously.
"He does not serve you?"
Sidious' eyes flicked toward him sharply.
"Of course he does not."
The words were ice.
"He serves no one."
That was worse.
Sidious moved back toward the holoprojector, hands clasped behind his back.
"He steals from you," Sidious said quietly. "He challenges you. He exposes himself openly before Yoda."
Dooku's expression tightened slightly.
"He has control."
"Control?" Sidious snapped.
"The dark side flowed through him without consuming him," Dooku clarified. "It did not master him. He wielded it."
Sidious went silent.
That silence was more dangerous than the lightning.
He turned slowly toward Dooku again
"You believe him to practice the ways of his people."
Dooku considered carefully before answering.
"He is not trained in Sith doctrine. But his connection… is older."
Sidious' lips curled.
"He is unfinished."
He stepped closer.
"And unfinished things are dangerous."
Sidious' mind moved rapidly now.
The Senate had granted him emergency powers. The Clone army was now beginning to fall under the command of the Jedi, their fleets flying across the stars against the Confederacy. His plans were still in motion, still the gears turned.
All was proceeding.
Except—
The Death Star plans were no longer secure.
And Anakin Skywalker was no longer merely a promising Jedi.
He was a variable.
A wild one.
Sidious' voice lowered to a whisper.
"If the boy learns what he truly is… before I shape him…"
He stopped.
Then slowly smiled.
"No."
Dooku stiffened slightly.
"You will not pursue him further," Sidious ordered.
Dooku's eyes flickered upward.
"Master?"
"You will continue your role. You will fracture the Republic. You will feed the war."
Sidious' gaze burned.
"And you will stay away from Skywalker."
Dooku inclined his head.
"As you command."
Sidious turned away once more, speaking now almost to himself.
"A Sith Pureblood within the Jedi Order… trained by Qui-Gon Jinn… observed by Yoda…"
His fingers steepled together.
"Plagueis thought he could hide him from me."
The air grew colder.
"I will not be denied what is mine."
He began to laugh softly.
Not with amusement.
With anticipation.
"Let the boy believe he is heir to a long-dead Empire. Sidious murmured. "Let him taste the dark side. Let him grow."
His yellow eyes gleamed in the dim light.
"Because when the time comes…"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"He will choose."
Behind him, Dooku remained kneeling.
Silent.
Calculating.
///
The chamber was dim, as it always was.
Not dark — not like the suffocating black of a Sith tomb — but muted. Quiet. Intentional. Light filtered through tall, narrow transparisteel panes behind Hugo Damask's office, the skyline of Coruscant glittering far below like a field of fallen stars.
Anakin stood before the Muun's desk, helmet under one arm.
He had come alone.
Plagueis had insisted on it.
The door sealed with a soft hiss behind him.
Damask did not rise.
He sat with long fingers steepled beneath his narrow chin, pale eyes studying Anakin not as a politician, not as a financier — but as a scientist observing a phenomenon that defied precedent.
"You have brought something interesting," the Muun said quietly.
Anakin extended his hand.
A small holoprojector flickered to life above his palm.
Blue lines formed into structure — concentric rings, spines, exhaust ports, a skeletal superstructure that hinted at something monstrous once completed.
Plagueis' eyes sharpened.
He rose slowly.
The hologram rotated between them, casting shifting light across Anakin's scarred features.
"A battle station?" Plagueis murmured. "No… not merely that."
His long fingers adjusted the projection, zooming in on reactor schematics, power conduits, orbital alignment arrays.
"A superweapon.... capable of untold destruction."
Anakin crossed his arms.
"It was important to Dooku. He seemed desperate to have it back."
Plagueis' thin mouth curved faintly.
"Yes. He would."
The Muun circled the projection, studying it from every angle.
"This is not Dooku's design," he said finally. "This has the fingerprints of my former apprentice."
Anakin's jaw tightened.
Plagueis reached forward and deactivated the projection.
"I will analyze it," he said. "Thoroughly. There are… inefficiencies here. Flaws that can be exploited."
Anakin nodded once.
"In the meantime," he said, turning slightly toward the door, "I have other matters."
Plagueis' tone shifted — curious now.
"Where to?"
Anakin glanced back. "Trandosha. Krrsanten was taken there, and I plan to find him."
"The Wookiee," Plagueis said thoughtfully. "You continue to entangle yourself with bounty hunters."
Anakin shrugged, though there was something guarded behind the motion.
"They're family."
Plagueis hummed.
"How fascinating you are, Skywalker, holding on to someone whos so far away."
He folded his hands behind his back and paced slowly.
"Tell me, Skywalker, do you know how difficult it is to earn the loyalty of a Gendai?"
Anakin paused.
"Scud?"
Plagueis inclined his head.
"They live for millennia. They do not attach themselves lightly. Everyone they know dies. Empires rise and crumble within a single Gendai lifetime. Most live out their lives with their own kind, never exploring the galaxy."
He stopped before Anakin.
"For one to bind himself to you… that is not chance."
Anakin's brow furrowed slightly.
"He owed a debt," he said. "To my ancestor."
Plagueis' eyes gleamed faintly.
"Ah, debts, I do love them. But debts can be ignored in a galaxy this large, especially to a Gendai."
Anakin didn't comment.
He hadn't seen Scud in years.
Not since before Geonosis.
Not since before everything had started unraveling.
"I'll contact him soon," Anakin said finally. "But first I deal with one bounty hunter at a time."
Plagueis inclined his head.
"Sensible."
He returned to his desk and rested his long fingers upon its surface.
"Before you depart," he said, voice soft but pointed, "tell me something."
Anakin waited.
"When do you intend to take up your lordship?"
The air seemed to still.
"Korriban," Plagueis continued smoothly. "Dromund Kaas. Mandalore."
Anakin's gaze drifted briefly toward the skyline.
"Perhaps soon," he said quietly. "For Korriban. Or Dromund Kaas."
His voice hardened slightly.
"But Mandalore is another matter."
Plagueis smiled faintly.
"Yes. A volatile one."
He stepped closer again.
"Satine Kryze has fractured her people. Her pacifism has weakened the warrior clans. Mandalore stands divided — traditionalists, death-watch sympathizers, neutralists…"
He tilted his head.
"A throne destabilized invites succession."
Anakin's eyes flickered.
"I don't want to deal with Mandalore right now," he said. "Too many moving pieces."
"Wise," Plagueis replied.
"Claiming an empire is one thing. Managing a civil war while doing so is another."
Silence lingered between them.
Anakin shifted slightly, preparing to leave — then stopped.
He turned back.
"There's something else."
Plagueis' expression remained unreadable.
"Yes?"
Anakin studied him.
"You know who Darth Sidious is."
It wasn't a question but more an accusation.
The room seemed to contract.
Plagueis did not react outwardly.
But something ancient and sharp passed behind his pale eyes.
"Yes," he said calmly. "I do."
Anakin stepped closer.
"You said once he was your apprentice."
"I did."
"Then tell me who he is."
The Muun watched him carefully now.
Measured him.
Weighed him.
For a moment, something almost paternal flickered there — then vanished beneath calculation.
"That," Plagueis said softly, "would make things too easy."
Anakin exhaled through his nose.
"I figured."
Plagueis stepped forward until they stood only a few paces apart.
"Understand this, Anakin."
His voice lowered.
"Sidious believes himself the culmination of Sith evolution. He believes the Rule of Two is absolute. He believes he will reshape the galaxy in his image."
A faint smile curved his thin lips.
"He does not yet realize he has competition."
Anakin held his gaze steadily.
"I'm not interested in his throne."
"No," Plagueis said thoughtfully. "You are interested in something older."
A beat.
"Legacy."
Anakin said nothing.
The Muun gestured toward the door.
"Go to Trandosha. Retrieve your Wookiee. Strengthen your foundations."
His voice softened almost imperceptibly.
"And when you are ready to claim what is yours… we will speak again."
Anakin picked up his helmet.
He hesitated only briefly before sliding it over his face.
The mask sealed with a faint hiss.
When he looked back at Plagueis, the boy was gone.
Only the heir remained.
"I'll be in contact," Anakin said through the vocoder.
Plagueis inclined his head.
"I expect nothing less."
The door slid open.
Anakin stepped out into the corridor, boots echoing against polished durasteel.
Plagueis remained alone.
For a long moment, he stood still.
Then he allowed himself a quiet murmur.
"Sidious…"
His pale eyes drifted toward the stars beyond Coruscant's glow.
"You built your future on chance and schemes."
A thin smile.
"I built mine on the blood that created our very ways."
The Muun turned back toward the deactivated hologram.
Planetary annihilation.
Crude.
Inefficient.
But symbolic.
"Interesting times," he whispered.
And somewhere in the Force, three shadows moved — each believing themselves inevitable.