lazypadawan | Fright Fest Fic: Seance

Seance
Rated PG
Starring: Bad guys galore

Count Dooku raised an eyebrow at his surroundings. They very well could've had this little soiree at his palace on Vjun. It would've been far less drafty than this abandoned temple on Korriban and at least there were good caterers a planet or two away. But Lord Sidious insisted on having the Sith'ain celebration here on the legendary homeworld of the Sith Order, so he would have to endure an evening of heavily-preserved fare and boxed wine. He reluctantly filled up a glass from the refreshments table.

Asajj Ventress accompanied him this evening, all wide-eyed and excited as though she was attending an exclusive holo-star party. She must've spent hours covering herself with cosmetics. Right now she was chatting up Sly Moore, undoubtedly exchanging tips on head-shaving.

General Grievous showed up late as usual. Despite the warlord's many faults, Dooku rather liked him. He was ruthless as all get-out and watching him play with lightsabers was fun. Holding a bottle of Corellian ale, Grievous was staggering about and slurring his words. Did he really get drunk on the way here?

The rest of the partygoers consisted of Lord Sidious's hanger-ons and patsies, people like Mos Amedda, Nute Gunray, and San Hill. One overeager fanboy named Sate Pestage hung on every word Sidious uttered. Some girl dressed like a two-bit streetwalker from Coruscant's lower depths--what was her name? Isard?--was trying to flirt with a red-robed guard.

The people Dooku had to put up with for his access to power.

Sidious had assured him privately many times over these people were all fools he was using for their purposes. It was amusing to laugh about them behind their backs.

Around midnight local time, Sidious chimed a spoon against a glass to get everyone's attention. The party crowd quieted down. "It is time for the most important part of the Sith'ain celebration: communication with the dead." Everyone ooed and ahhed as they made their way to the seance table and sat around it. The scarlet-clad guards took their place behind Sidious.

"It is a tradition among the Sith to seek counsel from beyond the grave. You never know who will appear to us tonight," Sidious said. "Now, I must have total silence while I begin the incantation." Everyone watched as Sidious lifted his arms and chanted, "Mecca lecca hi, mecca hiney ho." He then bade his guests to repeat the chant.

"Mecca lecca hi, mecca hiney ho," they said.

"Great spirits of Sith past, hear us call to you. Rise from the depths of Hell and grace us with your wisdom tonight," Sidious called out, moving his hands around like he was kneading invisible dough. "Everyone, place their hands on the table."

"What is this?" Grievous slurred. "The table is shaking!" The table went from trembling to rocking to and fro. Nute Gunray looked as though he was going to poop in his pants.

"Nonsense," San Hill, head of the Banking Clan, grumbled. "You're all pushing the table!"

But Dooku could feel the sheer power of the Dark Side surround them. Some dark presence was indeed in the chamber. The flames on the torchieres turned blue and flared. Gunray's mouth dropped open and he looked around as though planning to flee.

"Don't break the circle," Sidious hissed at the frightened Neimodian. "Or you're out of the conspiracy and I'll arrange for Senator Amidala to use you as target practice." That got Gunray to calm down.

"Who here is among us?" Dooku called out. "I, Darth Tyranus, demand you show yourself!"

An apparition appeared, hovering above the seance table like a holo, only with a red sparkling glow around it. It was a big bald man with odd marks all over him. To Dooku he looked more like a bar bouncer than a Sith Lord.

"It is I, Darth Bane," the spirit growled. "Who disturbs my eternal damnation?"

Dooku and Sidious looked at each other and blinked. Darth Bane? THE Darth Bane? Founder of the modern Sith Order and inventor of the Rule of Two? This was huge!

"It is I, Darth Sidious, my apprentice Darth Tyranus, and our allies. We are honored with your presence this Sith'ain."

"Ah, Sidious! I've heard of you. You're good, my friend. Real good. In fact, the rumor among all of us here is that you may very well be the Sith'ari. The one who is going to lead us to glory!"

"Oh, that might be a bit much," Sidious said, with a dismissive wave and a flattered smile.

"No, really! I've met your old master Plagueis...he says hello by the way...and that kid Darth Maul. They think very highly of you," Bane said. "It's great to see 2000 years of hard work finally coming to fruition. Soon the Jedi will be toast and the galaxy will be ours!"

"Uh, what about me?" Dooku asked the spirit. "What's my destiny?"

Bane just ignored him. Hmph, rude bastard. "There's just one thing I have to tell you, Lord Sidious. Whatever you do, don't trust anyone named..."

A comlink ringtone went off and the magic circle was broken. Bane's spirit vanished. The party guests groaned with disappointment.

"Whose comlink was that?" Sidious spat with rage.

"Um, I think it's yours, my Lord," Asajj Ventress said sheepishly. Sidious searched through his cloak pockets and found the offending comlink, playing a jaunty cantina tune.

"Oh, fizzle-fazzle," he grumbled. "Hello? Oh, curses! It's an automated telemarketing call! Thanks for ruining my seance and taking up my minutes!" He shut off the comlink.

"Perhaps we can try it again," Dooku suggested.

"The hour has passed. Sorry, the party is over," Sidious said glumly. The guests got up and headed out of the abandoned temple. Dooku saw Grievous grab the wine box on the way out, laughing to himself.

Dooku wondered who Bane was going to say Sidious shouldn't trust. Was it Dooku himself or what?

Oh well, there was always next year to find out.

Th'End