AN~ I'm back to writing chapters
The throne room of Theed was drenched in light tall windows of polished crystal casting gold reflections over the marble dais. Naboo's nobility stood assembled in formal rows, ceremonial garments flowing like silk rivers of woven color.
At the center, before a gathered planet and a hundred holocams, Padmé Naberrie was crowned Queen of Naboo.
She looked radiant, resolute, her youthful features framed by regal makeup and an ornate headpiece. But there was no arrogance in her eyes only conviction.
Palpus stood near the edge of the ceremony, hands folded behind his back. His expression was gentle, approving, the look of a supportive childhood friend and fellow noble.
But inside, he observed her with surgical clarity.
She believes she can change the galaxy. Idealism is beautiful. Beautiful things shatter.
He applauded when the hall did. He bowed when she passed. He smiled when she met his gaze and she smiled back, still believing he was someone who cared for peace.
She did not see the wolf behind the silk.
Padmé moved swiftly once crowned.
Three weeks into her reign, she summoned representatives of the Trade Federation to renegotiate the plasma tariffs imposed on Naboo. Palpus attended privately observer, as always. His role was to advise quietly, to whisper like wind through marble corridors.
Padmé stood firm across the polished conference table.
"Naboo will no longer accept inflated taxation on plasma shipments. Our resource is fundamental to the Republic. We ask only fairness not exploitation."
The Trade Federation representative, a pale Neimoidian with twitching hands and wide unsettled eyes, forced a thin smile.
"Your Majesty, the Federation's rates are standard. We cannot make unique exceptions for Naboo. That would disrupt galactic equilibrium."
Padmé's voice did not rise but the steel in it was unmistakable.
"Then it is the equilibrium itself that is unjust."
Palpus watched her speak strong, articulate, brilliant.
And doomed.
He waited until the discussions ended in stalemate. Then walking with her down the palace corridors, sunlight catching her golden robes he spoke gently, as a friend would.
"Padmé… diplomacy requires compromise. Pushing too hard will only corner them."
She looked ahead, jaw set.
"If justice is cornering someone, then justice needs no apology."
He admired her fire the same way one admires a candle before smothering it.
"Then I trust you will stand firm," he replied softly. "No matter what pressure they apply."
She nodded without hesitation.
Perfect.
That night, in a private, shielded holocomm chamber black walls, no echoes, no sound allowed to escape Palpus contacted his father.
The hologram of Senator Palpatine flickered into shape, robed in senatorial crimson, expression calm and pleasant but his eyes were cold and bright, like stars burning behind frost.
"Is she moving as expected?" Palpatine asked.
Palpus did not bow. They were far past that formality now.
"She believes she can force reform. She will appeal to the Senate."
A thin smile.
"Good."
Palpus tilted his head.
"You are ready, then?"
Palpatine's eyes sharpened.
"The Federation will blockade Naboo. They will believe it their own choice. They already fear losing profit I simply nudge them to protect it."
"And the Vice Roy?" Palpus asked.
"Obedient… so long as he believes I support him. "A soft laugh. "He will do exactly as instructed and think it was his own idea."
Palpus exhaled, approving.
"I will position assets in the Galactic Market. When the blockade begins, panic will destabilize energy-sector securities."
"Short aggressively," Palpatine instructed. "Let the galaxy's fear fill your coffers."
"As planned."
Father and son conspirators across the stars.
The holo-feed flickered out.
It began before dawn.
Silent shadows passing over Naboo's atmosphere.
Massive rings of ships Trade Federation battleships, thousands strong locking into a grid around the planet, cutting off all hyperspace lanes and incoming trade routes.
The sky darkened.
Communication stations failed.
Panic spread through Theed like a slow-moving storm cloud.
Palpus stood on the balcony of his private suite, hands resting lightly on the railing, watching the calm Naboo sunrise glow softly behind the blockade silhouette.
Fear is predictable. Fear is currency .Fear is the hand that writes history.
Behind him, his steward rushed in breathlessly.
"My lord the Trade Federation has"
Palpus raised one hand to silence him.
"I see."
He turned slightly, enough to reveal a serene, composed smile.
"Have the Queen prepare for Senate appeal. She must believe this is still solvable."
The steward nodded and sprinted off.
Palpus watched the sky darken further.
When the Republic finally responded days later two figures were dispatched: Jedi ambassadors.
One tall, calm, measured Qui-Gon Jinn. One younger, disciplined, sharp Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Palpus greeted them with a light, warm expression as they entered the palace.
"Welcome to Naboo. I apologize that your visit must occur under such dire circumstances."
Obi-Wan bowed slightly, sensing the young noble's sincerity or what seemed to be sincerity.
Qui-Gon studied him longer. Palpus met the Jedi Master's gaze without flinching not with challenge, but with openness.
Warm. Steady. Gentle.
A presence the Jedi would never associate with the dark side.
"You have a calm spirit," Qui-Gon observed.
Palpus' smile was soft. Practice. Precision. Flawless.
"I have always believed peace begins within oneself."
Obi-Wan nodded in approval.
If only they knew the abyss behind the still water.
Negotiations failed. The Vice Roy revealed his hand. The blockade became occupation.
The Jedi and Queen fled.
Palpus watched them leave from the palace rooftop Naboo's royal yacht arcing into the atmosphere, pursued by Federation starfighters.
He did not try to stop them.
They would go to Tatooine. They would find a boy. They would play right into destiny
A destiny he intended to rewrite.
And while they fought for hope
He profited.
The Galactic Market convulsed. Energy securities collapsed. Trade fleets froze. Investors panicked.
And every credit flowed
To him.