Star Wars - FanFiction - Emperor

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Star Wars - FanFiction - Emperor Page 7

by Brendon Wahlberg


  With the Moff's help, Palpatine reached a comm panel. He swiftly keyed a sequence that would send a coded message to his Grand Vizier. Sate Pestage would know what to do to prepare for the future. Now he had to ensure that there would be a future. Despite his precautions, he was very far from Byss now. To reach another clone, his essence would have to travel vast distances while fighting the dissolution of the dark side's chaos. Such a journey might take a year, perhaps too long to survive. But his studies with the Holocron had taught him about spirit anchors, how a consciousness could retain its individuality while entirely within the Force, provided there was a living mind to cling to. He planned to use one himself, to make sure he survived until he could reach Byss. It was no sure thing, but it was his only chance. He knew just the person.

  There was an operative named Mara Jade, code named the Emperor's Hand. She had the power to hear his call from anywhere in the galaxy, and he needed that ability now. He reached out with the Force and found her. The link was established in a moment, and just in time. Deep inside the station, the main reactor was exploding. Emperor Palpatine's last thoughts were of hatred for Vader and Skywalker, and of the vengeance he would one day have. Then the Death Star erupted with cleansing fire, bringing Palpatine's Empire to an end.

  * * *

  It was over. Palpatine, Luke, and Vader had gone through their personal crucibles and emerged forged into new shapes. Vader had lost his life, but won back his soul. Luke had lost his father and his innocence, but gained maturity and become a Jedi at last. The Emperor had lost everything, but somewhere within the dark side of the Force, he lived on as a hatred that would not die. Years in the future, he would live again in one of his clones, returning to menace the children of Anakin Skywalker once again. But for the present, goodness had triumphed. The newborn New Republic was removing its forces from Endor. The threat of the Ssi-Ruuk had been countered, and now the weary freedom fighters could begin to return to their homes and undertake the monumental task of creating a new government.

  Mon Mothma wanted to leave Endor the way it had been before the Empire had moved in, pristine and unspoiled. A few Ewoks had decided to go adventuring in space with the former rebels, but most of them bid farewell to their new tribe members and went back to their primitive lives among the lofty tree villages.

  The lights of departing starships dotted the night sky of Endor as one particular rebel said his last goodbyes to a place he might never see again. Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight gazed sorrowfully at the burned out funeral pyre of his father. The starlight of the clearing dimly showed him that there wasn't much left of Darth Vader's body, only blackened, melted armor. A far greater absence was felt in Luke's soul. He had regained his father for such a brief time, then lost him forever. That made it much more painful, somehow. It was time to say farewell.

  Slightly embarrassed, Luke spoke into the night softly. "Father. Anakin. I know you're at peace in the Force now. I think I saw you with Ben and Master Yoda, that night after I burned your body. I hope that was the right thing to do. You were turned before the end, but I felt your body should be freed from the machine that kept it a prisoner." Luke looked up at the stars. "I know you came to see Leia. She told me you wanted her forgiveness. It's a hard thing for her to forgive or forget. But she told me a while ago that she had made her peace with you, and that you would know it. I wonder if you can hear me? I wondered why you appeared to Leia and not to me. I'm sure you had your reasons, but there was more I wanted to say to you." Luke's voice trailed off.

  He stood there for several minutes, letting his silence convey the rest of what he felt. He turned to leave, his face full of disappointment. Luke was startled to find himself face to face with the glowing apparition of his father, standing at the entrance to the clearing. Anakin was dressed in plain brown robes, and as before, he appeared as a gentle faced late middle aged man. He was smiling at Luke. "Have you - how long have you been standing there?" Luke demanded.

  "I've been watching you, my son. I'm very proud of you, and of your sister. I meant to see both of you, Luke, and here I am. It was given to me to see you and speak with each of you once only. I asked forgiveness of your sister. As for you, my son, I want to tell you about the Emperor."

  Luke was pleased and saddened at the same time. "If that's all the time we can have, we should make the best of it. The Emperor is dead, what more is there to say about him?"

  Anakin's face was troubled. "You can't be sure of that, Luke. I was very close to the Emperor. He was strong in the dark side, but it made him weak in the flesh. I don't think this was the only time he died."

  Luke couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean, Father?"

  Anakin spread his spectral hands. "I saw him become very old several times while I knew him. Suddenly, he would be young again. He never told me how he did it, but I suspect he used a clone of himself to regain his youth. If he is able to do so again..." Anakin let his hands fall.

  Luke shuddered. Palpatine had been so evil, so powerful. Only his father's intervention had saved his life in the end. He doubted he could survive another encounter. "However," Anakin tried to reassure him, "the Emperor always went to a mysterious location in the core worlds in order to be rejuvenated. It may be that he could not save himself here at Endor. He may be dead forever. For now, at least, the galaxy is free of him."

  "You're free of him forever, Father," Luke smiled.

  "Thanks to you, my son," said Anakin. "Somehow you knew there was good in me when the Emperor didn't know, and I myself didn't know. How could you tell?"

  "I'm your son," Luke said simply. "I had to believe in the good in my father if I was to have any hope for the good in myself. Besides, once I accepted the truth that you were my father, I thought back to how on Cloud City, you could have killed me. But you didn't. There must still have been something of Anakin in you."

  "It was a near thing, my son. You took a terrible risk. I would have killed you, had the Emperor commanded me to. You came close to killing me, too. Such is the power of the dark side. Never underestimate it, my son."

  "I did come close. Too close." Luke remembered the moment all too well. The dark side had responded to him so quickly and powerfully once he had opened himself to it. "It was your threat to turn Leia to the dark side that pushed me over the edge. I'm not sure how to put this... I loved her, Father. I saw her image and followed it across the galaxy. I wanted her to be mine, to love me back. But she fell in love with Han, and then I learned she was my sister. I know she can never be mine, but I still love her, even now. I couldn't bear to think of her going through what I was going through. But in the end, when I had you at my mercy, when the Emperor was calling out for me to kill you, what held me back was this." Luke held up his prosthetic right hand. "I saw your severed hand, bionic like mine, and I realized that a vision I saw during my training was coming true. If I continued down the dark path, I would become Darth Vader. The hand that Vader cut off saved both of us." Luke couldn't help but recall the horrible attack of the Emperor that had nearly killed him. "You saved my life, too, Father. The Emperor would have killed me then and there."

  "The Emperor's hold on me was strong, Luke. I had to obey him, no matter what. Even when I realized he wanted me dead. When you and I fought, He didn't aid me with his powers. On the contrary, he clouded my mind as he once did to Obi-Wan. That, combined with the power given to you by the dark side, was enough to seal my fate as your victim. You withheld, but still I went back to my master's side. I needed his presence to replace the emptiness of all that I had lost because of him. He knew that, and thought his hold on me was absolute. But then I saw you dying. It was at that moment that Anakin was reborn. I realized that what I felt for you was love, an emotion I had forgotten. Palpatine's hold on me was broken. I suddenly saw him, not as my dark master, but as a small, twisted old man, full of spite and cruelty. And this foul creature was killing my son. I knew what I had to do. Though it killed me, I had to save you."

 
"Father, how did the Emperor come so close to winning? He seemed to know me completely, before I even arrived. He knew exactly what would tempt me to the dark side."

  Anakin replied seriously, "The Emperor could foresee many things. Before our battle, he told me that you would turn to the dark side if all you held dear was threatened. Your friends, and the rebel alliance itself were to be in mortal danger, driving you to seek the power you couldn't find in the light side of the Force. He did know you, and so he would have won, except that he did not know me."

  Luke smiled grimly at the irony. Palpatine had kept the instrument of his own destruction by his side for twenty years. His overconfidence had been his weakness after all. A man who had been one of the Jedi had avenged his kind against their conqueror in the end. "Yoda tells me that your destiny is a great one, Luke. He says that restore the Jedi you will. Excuse me, that you will restore the Jedi. I believe in you, my son. One day, you will be a Jedi master. Through you, the Jedi will return." Luke smiled at his father. Anakin had begun to fade away. " I must leave you now, Luke. Be strong, and believe that someday, you will find love. The Force will be with you, always."

  "Goodbye, Father," said Luke sadly. Luke's father shimmered and was gone, leaving Luke alone in the quiet starlit clearing. And you shall always be with the Force, Father, Luke thought. Deep in his heart, he knew the Jedi had already returned.

  3

  The Emperor Eclipsed

  The Emperor's Grand Vizier, Sate Pestage, knew his master was dead before anyone else in the palace. The message he found waiting for him on his secure holonet terminal left no doubt in his mind. Once he had decrypted it, using codes known only to the Emperor and himself, Pestage knew the Empire had lost its dark center. Like the gigantic black hole at the center of the galaxy, Palpatine had been the hub around which every destiny in the Empire revolved. Now, without him, the Empire would spin out of control, heading for disaster. Pestage should have been filled with despair. He had found his life's meaning in his service to the Emperor. Without that purpose, the emptiness would surely swallow him. But the Grand Vizier could afford neither despair nor oblivion. It was entrusted to him to turn defeat into victory, to salvage order out of chaos, to restore hope. Palpatine, his Emperor, was depending on him. Pestage reviewed the contents of the message once more, as puzzled by its cryptic lines as ever. My old friend, the fact that you are reading this means that the worst has come to pass. I have reached the nexus I feared, and have not survived. But you must not surrender. If ever you have been my servant, you must serve me now. You must bring Mara Jade to the Citadel on Byss. No one, not even Jade, must know the reason for the journey, but if you succeed, I will be restored. The Empire is in your hands.

  With one bony finger, Pestage touched the erase key. He knew that no one else must see the message. Bad times were coming. Now, a power vacuum existed, and someone would rush to fill it. No one had the right to the throne except his master. Not even Pestage himself could claim it. But those who would steal the throne would also kill to hold it, and that meant Pestage's life was in danger. Doubly so, if the usurpers knew of this message. Not that Pestage understood it. Palpatine was dead, somewhere near Endor. He had gone to face Skywalker, and that had led to the ultimate ruin. He had taken a clone with him, but evidently, that had not availed him. Pestage knew enough about the Emperor's cloning-based immortality to see that there was no salvation for his master, so far away from Byss. Without proximity to a clone, Palpatine was surely lost. Yet, he would trust that somehow, appearances were deceiving, and that there was hope. He would trust in his master, and he would trust in the Force.

  Suddenly, Pestage felt very old, very alone, and quite overwhelmed. He regarded his own frail frame. "It isn't fair," he muttered. "These weak bones cannot bear such a great burden. I must restore you, when you were all that kept me going... what have you done? You've staked all on an old man, whose only strength is his love for you. Well it may not be enough. But I...I will die trying to save you, if need be. There is no other way for me." Pestage hung his head. Now, he must deliver the terrible news of the Emperor's fall to Ars Dangor. He did not look forward to that duty in the slightest. Dangor was not a man who took bad news well.

  * * *

  The Emperor's Hand, Mara Jade, was the second person in the palace to know that Palpatine was dead, and the only one to see him die. She was standing alone in vast and ancient Manarai hall, in front of a huge window that displayed the breathtaking panorama of the distant Manarai Mountains. She could look down on the sprawling Imperial City that filled the valley, ocean like, its metallic waves braking against the severe rock of the faraway peaks. The city heaved with activity, but high above, Mara had sought out this serene and empty place for her much needed meditation. She had been tormented by anxiety and guilt for days. She was afraid that something terrible was going to happen, and most of all, she felt that it would happen because her last mission had failed. Mara had been summoned into her master's presence just weeks ago, by a mental command. She had made her way to his private chambers. She knew that every courtier who saw her pass by, saw her beauty and concluded that she was Palpatine's pleasure toy. That misconception, that underestimation, suited her just fine. It made her job that much easier. For Mara Jade was in reality the Emperor's Hand, a special operative who took care of the tasks that couldn't be handled by a legion of stormtroopers. She was an assassin and a spy, a versatile extension of Palpatine's will. He had trained her in the dark side of the Force personally, and she could hear his mental commands from anywhere in the galaxy.

  That last ability made her very special to the Emperor, for she often ventured into places where communication was impossible, to work his will with an immediacy and an effectiveness that was impossible for other operatives to achieve. When she reached Palpatine's rooms, Mara slipped inside with a slight swaying of her graceful hips, for the benefit of an advisor who was waiting at the Emperor's door. She saw a spark of outrage in the advisor's eyes, that he should wait even longer while the Emperor dallied, and then she was inside.

  Palpatine's rooms were sparsely decorated, and despite being well lit, had a sense of shadowiness to them. "Come, Mara Jade," said Palpatine from a side chamber. She found him in a tiny gallery of Jedi artifacts and lightsabers, each one representing a vanquished foe. "I have a mission for you, one well suited to your talents." She stood very close to him, and he placed a fatherly hand on her red-gold hair. In a sense, he was her father. Mara's parents had died when she was very young, and she remembered very little of them. Palpatine had brought her to Coruscant, and she had grown up there, thinking of the Emperor as her father figure, despite their infrequent contact. When she came of age, he had revealed his special plans for her, and she had been overjoyed. Ever since then, it had been her pride to serve as his agent, rooting out his evil enemies and bringing an end to their schemes. And now, here was another chance to do just that.

  "What do you need me to do?" she asked eagerly.

  "I have told you of my visions concerning the Jedi, Skywalker," He replied quietly. "You know that I will face him, and that there is some...uncertainty surrounding the outcome. I fear that the Force itself conspires against me. But you and I, my dear Mara Jade, you and I will cheat fate. We will deny destiny. I have intelligence that Skywalker is going to Tatooine to rescue his friend, the Correllian, from the local Hutt crime lord. You will take full advantage of this knowledge, and find him on Tatooine. There you will see that our young Jedi meets a premature death." He smiled at her warmly, conspiratorially. "I leave the details to your capable mind."

  Mara Jade was filled with feelings of determination, pride, and anger towards Skywalker. Anger that such a young terrorist could give the slightest vexation to her beloved Emperor, let alone threaten him. "As you command," she said with conviction, "so shall it be done." Mara had traveled to that forsaken dustball and infiltrated the grotesque slug's "palace" as a dancer. How it had disgusted her to perform for that drooling monstrosit
y! But apparently her lithe figure and shining hair had delighted the Hutt from the moment he saw her. It was degrading, but it was a good cover. She had waited, biding her time among the sick menagerie that thronged the Hutt's fortress.

  Then, finally, a few days later, Skywalker had shown up, walking into the palace with arrogant self- confidence. And Mara had been asleep! A long day of dancing had exhausted her, and by the time she woke up, the Jedi had already killed Jabba's rancor and earned the Hutt's personal hatred. Skywalker was to be executed at something called the Pit of Carkoon. Suddenly everything was spinning out of control. She didn't trust the bloated Hutt to be able to overcome the Jedi. She was in a panic that unless she came along to make sure Skywalker died, somehow he would escape. Anyone who could elude Darth Vader should have little trouble with a Hutt. Skywalker had some clever plan, she was sure of it. So she had asked to go with Jabba on the sail barge. And her cover identity had backfired on her. Jabba had become very "attached" to her, and wanted her safe in his chambers when he returned from his little excursion.

  The Pit of Carkoon was no place for a dancer, it was too dangerous. She had begged him, telling him she didn't want to be away from him for that long, but he had been adamant. She had even tried to use her Force skills on him, to no avail. And so, the sail barge and its prisoners had left without her. A day later, Bib Fortuna had made his way back to the palace, the only survivor of what was to him an astonishing debacle. Jabba was dead, Boba Fett as well, and the Jedi had escaped. Mara had been consumed by a helpless rage. Fortuna, already busy with his bid to take over the organization, did not even notice when she left. She returned to Coruscant in disgrace, but she was the only one who knew it.

 

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