Star Wars - FanFiction - Emperor

by Brendon Wahlberg

  After that, it was possible that she would be hunted, so she would have to change her identity and go into hiding. Her first task was to get out of the palace and find a ship to steal or stow away on. That would be facilitated by her knowledge of the secret passages of the palace, and of the security systems. She could come and go like a ghost, and they would never suspect her of being able to do so. She decided she would take two things with her. One was Kenobi's lightsaber. The other was going to be tricky, but she felt she owed it to Palpatine. She was going to free Sate Pestage from his undeserved imprisonment and see that he got to go anywhere in the galaxy that he wanted to. He had served Palpatine faithfully to the end, and it was justice that he not be mistreated and exiled, without honor, to Wild Space. Now that Dangor was dead, Pestage might not even get the privilege of exile; in the chaos about to descend, he would probably become just another casualty. Mara tapped into the palace security systems through Dangor's computer, and disabled the cameras on all nine floors of the advisors' wing.

  Swiftly, she left Dangor's quarters and hurried towards Palpatine's rooms. From there, she would have access to the secret ways. Behind her, the body of Ars Dangor lay very still, his hot stare definitely beginning to cool.

  * * *

  Sate Pestage shifted uncomfortably on the hard slab that was the only furniture in his cell. He regarded the bars that imprisoned him. Beyond their super dense material was a sterile, empty corridor. He had had no visitors since he was deposited roughly here by the

  CompForce troopers. The former Grand Vizier was alone with his dismal outlook. The thing that tortured him the most was how he had failed Palpatine. His master had placed his only chance for restoration in his hands, and what had he done? He had failed to find Mara Jade and he had underestimated Ars Dangor. Now there was a new Emperor, he was sure, and he, Sate Pestage, had only avoided execution by choosing exile.

  Exile would take him to Wild Space, where he wouldn't survive long. He would be as far from Byss as it was possible to be and remain in the galaxy. He would never see Palpatine again. Now, for the first time since he had received the Emperor's final message, Sate Pestage felt despair. Even when he had known Palpatine was dead, he had not given in to despair, for he had to believe in the crazy hope that his master could be restored. He had clung to that, avoiding facing reality. But events had defeated him. Now, that cruel reality was his only companion. Sate Pestage was alone in the universe.

  Twice before, he had felt thus bereft, but those times had been many years in the past. He had lost his beloved wife in childbirth. Even today, as he thought of her, he still felt a pang from the loss of his Gemsaa, so long ago. His son, his only child from her, sadly had not reminded him of her. Gemsaa had been so full of light. Her powers in the Force as a healer had been widely known and revered. But her son, Espaa, had been more at home in the shadows. He had been a serious child, who shunned other children and seldom laughed. Even so, Pestage had loved Espaa, for the child was all that was left of his bright Gemsaa.

  One day, even that was taken from him; he was bereft a second time when strangers had arrived at his home to ask that his son be given to them. They identified themselves only as the Sith, a name that had meant nothing to him. He had refused, and despite that refusal, they had taken Espaa, stealing the boy in the night. And Pestage had been alone in the universe. What did it matter to him, that the strangers had spoken of his son's "destiny"? He had known only his loss. He could not quite recall what had kept him going during those bleak years. He wished he could remember, for he needed that something now. He did remember what had brought him back to life. He had found Palpatine, and found his life's work in the service of his awesome master. It was the meaning of his existence. A meaning that was now gone. Bootsteps in the hall intruded upon his misery. A group of four CompForce troopers marched into view, followed by a man dressed flamboyantly in metallic blue. It was Tarn Gemillian. Sate Pestage didn't get up.

  Gemillian looked scornfully at him. "So, Grand Vizier. I see that your fortunes have fallen somewhat of late," Gemillian gloated. "You will no doubt be able to recall a certain day, several years ago, when you disgraced me in front of the Emperor. I told you that someday our positions would be reversed. I told you that someday, you would pay. You probably didn't ever think that day would come to pass. But the late Ars Dangor has given me that gift, and so here we are." Gemillian smiled meanly. "Grand Vizier, your expression betrays you, even as you sit in silence. You didn't know Ars Dangor was dead." Gemillian shrugged his shoulders. "The new Emperor's reign was a short one indeed! A young woman named Mara Jade strangled him in his own room. She is being hunted, of course, and she'll be executed, but the damage is done. Dangor was the only chance we had to fend off riots and destruction here in the city. There will be many dead before the morning comes. I don't think you had anything to do with that. But there is still the old score that I have to settle with you. Who will notice one more death, especially that of an old man, and a traitor to boot?" Gemillian stepped close to the bars and looked straight into Pestage's eyes. "Have you nothing to say? Nothing? Well then. This is goodbye. You may have thought you were clever, choosing exile, but I cannot allow that. So sorry, old man. "Guards. As soon as I am gone, kill him." Gemillian gave a small bow, and strutted out of sight.

  Still Sate Pestage did not stand, or even turn away. He had accepted his own death already. There was nothing left in life for him. He looked steadily at the troopers, as they fingered their blasters.

  Suddenly there was an electric hum, and a bright blue bar of light flashed among the soldiers. They screamed and fell, revealing a young woman with red-gold hair. Her green eyes glittered in the sharp glare of an ignited lightsaber, held ready for further combat. But no other troops appeared, and she relaxed a fraction.

  "Grand Vizier Pestage," she said, "I've come to escort you to freedom."

  He stared in wonderment at the vision of redemption before him. Joy flared within him, burning as brightly as the Jedi weapon held by the young woman. "I would be pleased to accept your kind offer, Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand," he said tremulously, "but there is the small matter of my confinement." He gestured at the bars. Mara looked steadily at him for a moment, her eyes shining. Then, with two sweeping strokes of her lightsaber, she severed the bars, top and bottom. They fell with a clatter to the floor, and Pestage gingerly stepped over them and into the hall.

  "What did that man have against you, anyway?" asked Mara.

  Pestage frowned. "A few years ago, on his homeworld, the rebel alliance was making great progress in winning over the sympathies of the planetary government. Had the Emperor known, he would have punished Mandalore with a fleet of Star Destroyers, but Gemillian didn't want to lose his vast land holdings. So he hid the information from the Emperor. I merely informed the Emperor of the truth. Gemillian never truly had the ear of the Emperor again, having been shown to be a liar."

  “Why keep him on at all?" Mara wanted to know.

  "The Emperor liked there to be rivalry and scheming among his advisors. Gemillian was very good for that. So why waste good talent?" Pestage said simply.

  Mara let the matter drop, and led Pestage to a secret door at the far end of the cell block. "Sometimes the Emperor would come here to interrogate his prisoners in his own special way, privately," Mara explained.

  "Yes, I know," said Pestage. "It was very thoughtful of him to have planned for our escape like this."

  Together, they vanished into the dimly lit corridor, sealing it invisibly behind them.

  * * *

  Mara Jade and Sate Pestage descended into the tunnels far below the palace. Imperial City had been built up like rock strata upon the structures of days gone by, so that going down was like going back in time. Soon, they passed beyond the gleaming, modern corridors with artificial light, and entered halls of stone where the only light was the glare of Mara's lightsaber. Now and then, they saw creatures in the shadows that resembled Womp rats the size of Nerfs, but
these were evidently scared of the light and quickly vanished into their hiding places. Mara hurried along, followed by a puffing Sate Pestage, who was pushing his scarecrow like body as fast as it would go.

  "What...what are we rushing for?" Sate Pestage breathed heavily, "surely we would never face pursuit down here!"

  She turned, realizing for the first time how he was struggling to keep up. "I'm sorry, Grand Vizier," she said, "we can rest a moment. I'm not worried about being followed. I'm worried about them closing the starports to...to keep me from escaping." She paused, looking pained.

  "Tarn Gemillian told me that you killed Ars Dangor. Is this true?" Sate Pestage asked softly.

  "Yes, it's true. But I don't know how it happened. I didn't mean to do it. I didn't even know I was doing it...but then he changed, and he was dead, and - I think I'd better start from the beginning, huh?" Mara put a hand to her temple, and, not facing Pestage, told him the story. "It started for me yesterday, when I saw the Emperor die." Pestage peered at her in surprise. "I was in Manarai hall when I saw it in a vision. Lord Vader and Skywalker turned on him and killed him. It was awful. He looked at me, and he looked so betrayed. He told me I had to kill Skywalker. I blacked out, and had nightmare after nightmare of doing just that, in so many ways...so many ways. As for Vader, I think he's already dead. He was dead in all my nightmares...that must mean something. When I woke up, I had a splitting headache, and my ability to sense the Force, to use it in any way, was gone. I've had to deal with that loss, the loss of the Emperor, and on top of all that, I can't help but feel that it was all my fault." She started to weep softly. Pestage put a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, and said, "I had the chance to kill Skywalker on Tatooine. I was sent there to do it, and I failed. I failed. And now he's dead."

  Pestage felt the deep hurt of this young woman, and he knew he could help with at least part of it. "It wasn't your fault," he said gently. "The Emperor must have known he might die, and he had a message prepared in advance to send to me if it happened. In it, he told me to get myself to a safe place, and to see that you were safe as well. He knew it wasn't your fault, and he didn't blame you. He may want you to kill this Skywalker, but Palpatine's death was something he chose to face. But you were telling me about Ars Dangor."

  "Well," she continued, "Dangor sent his men to get me while I was still pretty messed up. It turned out he wanted me for his pleasure. He thought I was Palpatine's lover, and because he was going to take the throne, he wanted to claim me, too. I felt degraded, but not enough to kill him. I was sent to his rooms, where I broke into the security systems. I watched the meeting where he set you up, and took you down. Again, I was angry, but not that angry. But when he was actually declared Emperor, I felt such a rage that...that I blacked out. Then - this is the really strange part - I thought I was having another nightmare. Palpatine was dead at my feet, and Skywalker came back to kill me, too. This time, I strangled him with my bare hands. After he was dead, I could see that he was really Dangor. I wouldn't have killed him. I only wanted to escape from him and leave the planet. I don't know what's wrong with me." She looked into Pestage's eyes. "You don't know what it meant to me, when you called me Emperor's Hand. I was feeling like no one knew who I was anymore. It - it just meant a lot to me." She took his hand, holding it warmly.

  Pestage was thinking furiously. Something incredible was beginning to dawn on him. There was Palpatine's order for him to bring Mara to Byss, the nightmares and headaches she was having, the blackouts, and her hatred of Dangor when he became Emperor. He didn't know how it could have happened, but he suddenly understood that he was in the presence of his master. Palpatine existed within the mind of this young woman. "What you did meant a lot to me, too, Mara Jade," he told her. "You saved my life, and I owe you more than you will ever know. But there is something else I need to ask of you. There is a world in the Deep Core called Byss, where the Emperor has a stronghold of those loyal to him. I would be safe there. We both need to escape, we are both fugitives. Would you help me to reach there? Perhaps you, too, can find a home there."

  "I'll take you anywhere you need to go. That was part of my plan. But how are we going to get off planet?"

  "Don't worry about that, Mara Jade. I know of the ideal transport. The Emperor's personal shuttlecraft is in a docking bay near the palace. If you can pilot it, it can get us free of Coruscant."

  She clasped Pestage's hands firmly with her own. "Can I pilot it? Does a Wookiee live in the trees? Let's get out of here!"

  Pestage smiled at her, and they moved off in a different direction, sharing hope like the first taste of food after a long fast.

  * * *

  Emerging from the secret ways late that night, the fugitives found themselves in a quiet docking bay, empty of other people. Before them, a Lambda class shuttle crouched like a white bird with its wings folded. Sate Pestage motioned for Mara to stay put, then he walked up to the open boarding ramp that beckoned invitingly. "Sate Pestage, Grand Vizier, code SGW0027, deactivate defense systems." He turned back to Mara. "It's all right now, we can get on board."

  She climbed the ramp, looking nervously around her. "What would have happened if I had been alone?" she asked.

  "You would now be dead," Pestage told her. "This ship is equipped with the navicomputer programs necessary to penetrate the Deep Core, and the recognition signals for bypassing the Hyperspace Security net. It would not do to let those things fall into the wrong hands."

  Mara followed him into the cockpit of the little craft. She immediately began activating the ship's systems and monitoring communications from Imperial City. "I'm getting some information you should know about," she said to Pestage after a minute. "There's a total blackout on holonet transmissions, and traffic to and from Coruscant has been prohibited. That might slow down or even prevent any pursuit from the ground, but listen to this. A lot of the surviving Star Destroyers from Endor have returned at Dangor's orders, and are now in orbit. There are a lot of very angry, very confused Captains up there demanding to know what's going on down here. And no one's answering them. Imperial City doesn't want the news from Endor to get out until they're ready for it. Things haven't fallen apart yet, but they could at any moment. We'll have to fly right through a fleet of Star Destroyers to get away from Coruscant -"

  "And they could easily capture us or shoot us down, depending on their mood, which is no doubt poor," finished Pestage. "Don't worry - I said this ship could get us away from here and it will. The Emperor has given us a little insurance."

  Mara finished her preparations. "All right, Grand Vizier, here goes nothing. You'd better know what you're talking about." The shuttle rose up, wings unfolding into a triangular configuration, and shot out of the bay into the night sky of Coruscant, the city spread out below them like a glittering tapestry. Mara pushed the shuttle for all the speed she could coax out of it, and, as she had guessed, nothing rose up to intercept them. Driving towards the upper atmosphere, Mara powered up the weapons systems. Her scanners registered no less than twelve Imperial Star Destroyers directly above her. Her skin prickled as she pictured their hundreds of turbolasers locking onto the tiny craft.

  Sate Pestage was completely calm. He touched a switch with his long, thin finger, and sat back in his seat, smiling slightly. The shuttle continued to climb, leaving the atmosphere behind. The stars became sharp pinpoints of light as they came within visual range of the enormous wedge shaped cruisers. Mara fought the urge to turn and flee, and they hurtled past the fleet, at a distance of less than ten kilometers. Suddenly the Imperial ships were dwindling behind them, and they were in the clear. Mara let out a whoop of relief and called up the coordinates for the hyperspace journey to Byss.

  "You see," said Pestage, "this ship broadcasts a code that tells the computers of any other Imperial ships not to fire, and not to lock on a tractor beam. Palpatine never wanted to be in danger of becoming the victim of a quick and easy coup by an ambitious admiral while he traveling in such a
tiny vessel as this. So, they may have tried, but they couldn't shoot at this shuttle. We were perfectly safe."

  Mara stared at Pestage as the stars out of the viewport flared into starlines. "I've got to hand it to you," she said with admiration, "this is some rescue."

  * * *

  Sate Pestage awoke in his tiny makeshift bunk on the shuttle to the sound of Mara Jade's screams. She was clearly in the grip of her nightmares. Pestage was hesitant to approach her, recalling what had happened to Dangor. Why do you torment her so, my master, he wondered silently, looking sorrowfully at the restless form of the young woman. She tossed and turned, seeming to grapple with the air. She struck at nothing, and slumped down into a dreamless sleep once more.

  Pestage waited a few minutes, then, judging it to be safe, he gently prodded her awake. Groggily, she looked at him, grimacing in pain. She still had her headache. "Are you all right, Mara?" Pestage asked her.

  "Not really," she said, "I can't say I'm in any way right." Her eyes had a haunted look. "I may never be all right again. I can't shake this headache, I feel so empty, cut off from the Force. And the nightmares...I can remember that last one. The Emperor was dead, and Skywalker had his head on a sort of pike. I come in, and he doesn't seem to think of me as a real threat. He just sort of laughs. And this time I have this really wicked knife. I throw it, and it hits Skywalker in the eye. But he isn't dead. He comes at me, and we struggle hand to hand. Then I'm able to punch the knife hilt, and drive the blade all the way in. Of course, he dies then. And the dream ends with my putting his head on the pike. I don't know what's happening to me. When I kill, it's clean, fast, as efficient as possible, as painless as possible. You don't make it as an assassin by putting on some kind of scene from a horror holovid. I don't understand where these ideas, this hate, comes from."