Darth Nox: The Master of the Force (ON HOLD)

Chapter 47: Shadows in the Data

The chamber's dim lighting reflected off polished obsidian walls, casting long, shifting shadows as Darth Nox stood in quiet contemplation. His recent visions had left him unsettled, a rare occurrence for someone so deeply connected to the Force. Yet the name "Plagueis" lingered like a whisper in his mind, a phantom that demanded attention. This wasn't simply a curiosity; it felt tied to something deeper, something woven into the fabric of the galaxy itself.

Across the room, Scorpio waited with her usual detached expression. Her metallic visage betrayed no emotion, yet the faint hum of her systems indicated that her processors were running at full capacity, always analyzing, always calculating.

"You summoned me," she said, her voice calm but with an underlying edge of intrigue.

Nox turned, his gaze sharp and piercing. "I have seen something in the Force, a Muun—a Sith, I believe—by the name of Plagueis."

Scorpio's luminous eyes flickered briefly. "Intriguing. Yet the archives you provided me with hold no mention of such a name. Is this vision rooted in fact, or could it be a fabrication of your own mind?"

Nox's lips curled into a faint smirk. "You think me prone to delusion, Scorpio? No, this was no ordinary vision. The Force doesn't speak without purpose, and this name... it holds weight."

She tilted her head slightly, her synthetic curiosity piqued. "And what exactly do you expect me to uncover? If this Muun exists within the Sith records, I will find him."

"I doubt he'll appear in our archives," Nox replied, pacing slowly. His hands clasped behind his back, his voice dropped into the cadence of command. "But if this 'Plagueis' exists—or existed—his influence must have left traces somewhere. Begin with the Muuns. Search for any connections to high-ranking Sith or figures with unusual influence over galactic politics. Any irregularities. Start with the Banking Clan."

Scorpio inclined her head, already beginning to process the command. "The Muuns are notoriously private, but even the most secretive entities leave digital footprints. I will find what I can."

Hours passed as Nox remained in his chambers, his thoughts spiraling back to the vision. Who was this Muun? What role did he play in the shifting darkness that seemed to blanket the galaxy? The Sith's return under his own rule had heralded a new age, yet there was something far older, far darker, lurking beyond even his comprehension. The galaxy now felt heavier, denser with malevolence compared to the golden age of the Old Republic and Sith Empire—a subtle, pervasive corruption that seemed woven into its very foundation.

When Scorpio returned, her presence was heralded by the gentle hum of servos. She moved with precision, standing before him as she delivered her findings—or lack thereof.

"I have searched the Imperial archives, public databases, and even the restricted files you granted me access to," Scorpio began. "There is no record of a Muun named Plagueis, nor of any Muun directly associated with Sith activities."

Nox frowned. "Nothing? Not even a whisper of his influence?"

"None," she confirmed. "However, there are Muuns with significant influence in the Banking Clan. Several hold high-ranking positions, controlling vast portions of the galaxy's financial systems. Their operations span from neutral planets like Scipio to Republic-controlled worlds. They are skilled at masking their true dealings."

Nox narrowed his eyes. "And yet no indication of a Sith among them? No hidden dealings?"

"None that would point explicitly to Sith activities," Scorpio said. "Their influence lies in economics, not warfare or manipulation of the Force. If this 'Plagueis' exists, he is either extraordinarily adept at concealing himself, or he operates through proxies, never leaving a direct trail."

Nox dismissed Scorpio, turning his focus inward once more. The ritual chamber on Ziost, his chosen place of contemplation, welcomed him with its familiar aura of power. As he knelt on the cold stone floor, the Force swirled around him, charged with his determination.

His thoughts latched onto the fragments from his vision: the old man performing the essence transfer ritual; the young warrior driven by anger and ambition; the Muun—cold, calculating, and dangerous. Plagueis was a shadow, yes, but one with unmistakable weight. That name was not simply an echo from the past but a warning, a thread tied to the galaxy's current state.

As his meditation deepened, images began to form—disjointed, fleeting, but charged with meaning. He saw the Muun again, seated on his ancient stone throne, observing with a detached gaze as events unfolded before him. A puppet master, his influence weaving through the galaxy like an invisible hand.

The scene shifted, now showing the Muun in conversation with beings of power. Some wore the uniforms of senators, others robes of the Jedi. Yet none seemed aware of his true nature. He moved among them as one of their own, his manipulations so subtle they went unnoticed even by those attuned to the Force.

Then, a voice—low, resonant, and filled with purpose—cut through the visions like a blade. "The Force is not merely power. It is life, death, creation, and destruction. To master it, one must transcend its boundaries. One must control all things."

The voice sent chills through Nox. It was the voice of the Muun, Darth Plagueis, speaking as if directly to him or at least someone else he didn't see.

When Nox emerged from his meditation, his skin was cold, his thoughts racing. He could feel the edges of the truth beginning to coalesce, even if the full picture remained obscured. The galaxy had changed, and Plagueis—or something tied to him—was at the heart of it.

He considered the Sith of old and their legacy. Their hunger for power had torn the galaxy apart for millennia, but there was something different now, a calculated darkness that seeped into every corner of civilization. It wasn't the raw, chaotic destruction of the ancient Sith—it was something far more insidious, a corruption that spread quietly but relentlessly.

Could Plagueis be the source? If so, how far did his influence reach? And was he even still alive? These were questions Nox could not yet answer, but one thing was certain: the vision had shown him a threat, one that must either be neutralised or eradicated.

Nox rose from his meditative stance, his expression unreadable. He strode toward the grand window overlooking Ziost's verdant landscape. The planet, once a barren wasteland, now thrived under his rule, a testament to his power and vision. But even as he looked upon his accomplishments, his thoughts were drawn to the shadows.

"Scorpio," he said aloud, knowing the droid would hear him even if she wasn't present.

Her voice responded from a nearby terminal. "Yes, my lord?"

"Expand the search. Look for any irregularities in the Banking Clan's dealings, particularly those tied to the Republic. Focus on patterns—transactions that seem unusually precise, manipulated."

"As you command," she replied. "But may I suggest caution? If this Plagueis is truly as skilled as you believe, any probing could draw his attention."

Nox's smirk returned, faint but dangerous. "Good. Let him notice. If he is out there, I want him to know I am watching."

As Scorpio acknowledged the command and the connection closed, Nox's gaze hardened. His Empire was strong, but he would not allow the galaxy to be reshaped by forces he did not control.

This "Plagueis," if he truly existed, would learn that Darth Nox was no mere successor to the Sith of old. He was their evolution, their perfection—and nothing, not even a phantom from the shadows, would challenge that.