Chapter Text
The holopad flickered and died, and once again, Darth Sidious was alone. He swiveled his chair, looking out from the office of the Supreme Chancellor onto the nighttime vista of Galactic City. An endless series of high-rise buildings, flashing lights, and, in the far distance, the towering ziggurat and spires of the Jedi Temple. The whole cityscape was swathed in light and, as there always was when lights were bright, darkness.
Of course, there was no greater darkness on Coruscant than himself.
Already, things were in motion that would finally see the Sith Grand Plan brought to fruition. In less than six months, he had supplanted his master as the Dark Lord of the Sith, had Sifo-Dyas murdered, thus securing the Clone Army from Jedi interference, and taken a new apprentice. Count Dooku would be the catalyst for a rising Separatist movement, and he would be able to destroy all of his enemies in one swift stroke in a matter of years.
He steepled his fingers, allowing himself to smile. His power was assured. Oh, he would be bound by laws and conventions fo the Republic for a time, but that would change. A few nudges here, some bribes there, and some… early retirements of troublesome senators, and everything would slide into place. He would be better able to concentrate power into himself, and thus be able to break the chains that limited him. He would rule!
… But it was that last method of removing obstacles that stuck in his head. He needed people he could rely upon to act upon his will. Sometimes, the soft power that had come to define the Sith for the past thousand years just wouldn’t be enough. There would be those he would have to remove permanently. And when the war started, he couldn’t rely upon the Coruscanti authorities to do the deed.
He had plenty of agents at his disposal, but none of them would work. The Sith Eternal and other such dark side cults were too crude and unsubtle. The Sun Guard, Blackguard, and Yinchorri Warriors were too notable to the Jedi. Bounty Hunters were unreliable. Assassin Droids, if captured intact, could give away too much information that might lead back to him. What he needed was something that could blend in, yet be both incredibly effective and loyal.
And that was the obvious solution, wasn’t it? The Clones. A whole army of elite, well-trained soldiers that would “serve” the Republic. They would serve him, of course, when he was ready to assume the position he was destined to fill as ruler of the Galaxy. Only a few thousand of them set aside, trained specifically to serve him and only him, and he would have a force that would be able to enforce his will on Coruscant. Not enough to arouse suspicion from the Jedi, but as always, enough to get the job done.
He smiled once again. It was perfect.
And, ten years later, he had them. Their commander kneeled before him, and Darth Sidious knew that it was a fine decision. While the man radiated willfulness and cunning, he was also loyal. The other clones Sidious had interacted with, even with their deference to him as Supreme Chancellor, were just too standoffish for his tastes. The Coruscant Guard, on the other hand, had been hollowed out of everything save ferocity and the words “Yes Sir” rattling around their skulls. Maul was much the same, but he was able to control the Zabrak for as long as needed. CC-1010 would be much the same. A tool to be used to its fullest and, when no longer needed, discarded. As with everything, he was a stepping stone.
A willing pawn. A useful one to his plan, but nonetheless a pawn. One that might yet help him secure the Sith’s, HIS, rightful place as the supreme and only power in the galaxy.