32 BBY – Coruscant, The Senate Building
The Chancellor's voice was hoarse from pleading.
"Senator Palpatine, I'm running out of allies," Valorum said, rubbing his temples, eyes sunken from sleepless nights. "The Neimoidians are acting outside the law. If the Senate sees weakness now—"
"They already do," Palpatine said softly, pouring a cup of tea.
He handed it to Valorum with a sympathetic smile. Warm, almost fatherly.
"You must understand, Chancellor, they don't see you as corrupt. Just… ineffective."
Valorum looked up sharply, wounded.
"I've stood for peace. For order. Surely they see that."
Palpatine turned, walking slowly toward the massive transparisteel window overlooking the Senate floor.
"They see a thousand systems in disarray. Systems hungry for strength. For someone who will act decisively, without apology."
He let that hang in the air like perfume. Valorum took a shaky sip, not noticing the subtle poison in the words.
"I won't become a tyrant," the Chancellor muttered.
"No," Palpatine replied, voice smooth as oil. "You'll become a footnote."
Aboard the Trade Federation Command Ship, Orbiting Naboo
Neimoidians weren't brave. They were useful.
And Gunray, for all his cowardice, had proven compliant.
The hologram of Darth Sidious towered in the command chamber, face cloaked beneath darkness, voice distorted into a chilling rumble.
"You will blockade the planet. Deploy droid forces. Cut off all trade and communications."
Gunray fidgeted. "But, my lord, this this violates half the Trade Charter "
"And the Republic will do nothing. They are crippled by procedure."
Silence.
"Or perhaps I should promote one of your subordinates instead."
Gunray bowed immediately. "It will be done, Lord Sidious."
The hologram flickered out.
On the other side of the dark veil, Palpatine smiled to himself as the pieces moved into place.
He didn't need control of the Federation. He needed chaos. Chaos that would force the Republic to expose its fragility. Chaos that would make the Senate cry out for change.
Coruscant – Palpatine's Apartment
The summons came faster than expected.
Two Jedi.
Qui-Gon Jinn and his young apprentice.
Palpatine hid a smile as he read the communique. He'd hoped for a reaction—but to send those two? Perfect.
He turned to his private terminal and drafted an encoded message.
Transmission: Red Protocol – To: Lord Sidious"The Jedi are being sent to Naboo under secrecy. Use them. Make them believe they are restoring order. Then push them toward open conflict. If they survive… I want to see how far they will go to protect a dying system."
He sent the message, then stood before the mirror.
To the galaxy, he was the ideal senator: charming, compassionate, a servant of democracy.
But Palpatine's eyes held the truth now.
The Republic was rotting. The Jedi were blind. And in their desperate grasp for stability, they would hand him everything.
Later – Senate Emergency Session
Valorum's voice cracked as he addressed the full chamber.
"I have authorized Jedi ambassadors to negotiate with the Trade Federation. We must resolve this crisis peacefully."
The chamber erupted in uproar. Whispers turned to shouts. Whole sectors accused him of favoritism, indecision, even cowardice.
Palpatine waited.
Then he rose.
"Chancellor," he said, his voice measured, "may I remind this body that the people of Naboo are suffering under illegal occupation?"
He paused. Eyes turned to him.
"It is not just a crisis of politics. It is a crisis of faith. In this body. In your leadership."
Valorum's mouth opened—but nothing came out.
Palpatine gave a slight bow.
"Let us act swiftly. For Naboo… and for the Republic."
As he sat, he knew he had planted the knife.
Closing Scene – Naboo Orbit
The Jedi shuttle emerged from hyperspace into chaos.
Gunray's fleet hovered like vultures over the green world below. Droid fighters swarmed in patrols. The blockade was real. And the Jedi's presence was… expected.
Qui-Gon frowned. "They were ready for us."
Obi-Wan checked the scopes. "Orders from someone high up. We've walked into a trap."
Below, in the shadows of Naboo, Queen Amidala stared at the stars with unease.
And back on Coruscant, Palpatine stared out over the skyline—eyes cold, calculating.
Everything was going according to plan.