Darth Plagueis - James Luceno [93]
Kim scowled and studied the carpet. “Regardless, I was able to make contact.”
“And?”
Kim’s expression was cheerless when he looked up. “He told me that I’m a stranger to him, and that the Kim name has no significance for him.”
Palpatine sighed. “Then that’s the end of it.”
“No. He has agreed to speak with me in person on Coruscant. I’m determined to convince him, Palpatine. Family must come first.”
Palpatine bit back what he was about to say and began again. “Will you promise to keep me informed? Or at least let me know how to reach you?”
Kim went to the desk and sorted through the mess until he found the flimsi he was looking for. “This is my itinerary for the coming week,” he said, passing the flimsi to Palpatine. “Palpatine, if something untoward should happen to me on Coruscant …”
“Stop, Vidar. We’re getting way ahead of ourselves.”
Kim ran a hand over his head. “You’re right.” He returned to the couch and sat. “Palpatine, we’re too close in age for me to have thought of you as a son, but I do consider you the younger brother I never had.”
Palpatine nodded without a word.
“If I fail to get through to Ronhar or the Jedi, I can at least alert my colleagues on the Senate Investigatory Committee.”
Palpatine restrained an impulse to stand. “I think you’re wrong about Tapalo and Veruna, Vidar. But I can say without hesitation that you will be risking your life by making such accusations public.”
“I’m perfectly aware of that, Palpatine. But if Ronhar rejects my plea, what else will I have to live for?”
Palpatine placed his hand on Kim’s shoulder.
The small part you will play in the revenge of the Sith.
* * *
By the time he left Kim’s office the weather had turned sharply colder. Snow flurries were swirling around the palace towers, and the shallows to the Solleu tributaries were sheened with ice. The agent from Coruscant whom Plagueis had provided—Sate Pestage—was waiting in a small plaza behind the Parnelli Art Museum, warming his hands with his breath.
“The Naboo have never heard of climate control?” he commented as Palpatine approached.
Recalling his early conditioning sessions on glacial Mygeeto, Palpatine almost laughed at the man’s remarks. Instead he said, “Radical change has always come slowly to this world.”
Pestage cast a glance at the stately columns that enclosed the domed museum. “No doubt about that.”
Slightly taller and older than Palpatine, he was sinewy and capable looking. His brown eyes were close-set and glistening, and his pointed nose and angular cheekbones were emphasized by black hair that had receded from his forehead and temple. Plagueis had mentioned that Pestage had been born in Daplona on Ciutric IV—an industrialized ecumenopolis outside of which Darths Bane and Zannah had once lived secret lives. Plagueis hadn’t revealed how he had discovered Pestage—perhaps Damask Holdings had had dealings with Pestage’s influential and extensive family—but he had said that Pestage was someone Palpatine might want to consider adding to his growing entourage of aides and confidants.
From the pocket of his robe, Palpatine prized the flimsi Vidar Kim had given him and handed it over. “His itinerary for Coruscant.”
“Perfect.” Pestage slipped the flimsi into his pocket.
“I want you to wait until his business on Coruscant is concluded.”
“Whatever you say.”
“He’s threatening to alert the Jedi Order and the Senate Investigatory Committee about various deals that were made.”
Pestage snorted. “Then he deserves everything that’s coming to him.” He scanned their surroundings without moving his head. “Have you made a decision about who to use from the data I supplied?”
“The Maladians,” Palpatine said.
A group of highly trained humanoid assassins, they had struck him as the obvious choice.
Pestage nodded. “Can I ask why?”
Palpatine wasn’t accustomed to having to justify his decisions, but answered regardless. “The Mandalorian Death Watch has its own problems, and