Star Wars - FanFiction - Emperor

by Brendon Wahlberg

  FanFiction

  Emperor

  By

  Brendon Wahlberg (bwahlber+@pitt.edu)

  .lit creation 03/03 by DrB

  A series of stories about The Emperor during the film trilogy and leading up to Dark Empire, the comic saga by Tom Veitch.

  Note: the character of Grand Admiral Saren and the Zingali are the creation of Michelle Slaughter. The final quote from the Book of Anger in this story, concerning Force Storms, is from Dark Empire, by Tom Veitch.

  1

  A New Enemy

  Palpatine was the undisputed master of the whole galaxy, and he had no enemies left. His piercing yellow eyes gazed from a face mostly hidden by a deep black hood. What could be seen of that visage was severely etched with age, the eyes sunken into cavernous sockets surrounded by withered, mottled skin. The forehead seemed oddly misshapen, and the mouth was a rictus filled with ragged nubs of teeth. But that mouth was set in a wicked grin, and the eyes burned with a hungry fire.

  There were some, of course, who thought of themselves as his enemies. The irritating Mon Mothma and Bail Organa, for example. This was their foolish conceit. They were nothing, as were the pitiful insurrectionists who had of late been calling themselves the

  "Alliance". To the most powerful dark side master who ever lived, these were not enemies. The Jedi , weak-willed practitioners of the impotent side of the Force, were dead and gone. Knowing that they could have threatened him, Palpatine had unleashed the Sith and their Dark Lord to hunt them down. As if to prove their inferiority, many of the Jedi had practically set their necks to the blade. Disheartened by the fall of the Republic, they had not even resisted. A few fought or ran, only to be overcome by the brute force of Imperial technology and the relentless, merciless pursuit of Palpatine's servant, the fallen Jedi, Darth Vader. The bravest had brought the fight to his own doorstep; these Palpatine personally annihilated. The purge had taken a great deal of effort, and of the Sith, only Vader remained. But with the Jedi exterminated, Emperor Palpatine had no enemies left.

  Anyone seeing Palpatine in his private meditation chamber, deep inside the Emperor's citadel on Byss, would have noticed the frail manner in which the ruler of known space clutched at his gnarled walking stick and concluded that this man did indeed have an enemy – death itself. But he would be wrong. Palpatine felt death approaching. It felt like it always did. There was the sense that the very fabric of his tissues would soon be torn apart by the energies he daily channeled through them. He knew that if he were to die in truth, he would be forever lost within the howling chaos of the dark side itself. It would claim him for its own as he had claimed the galaxy. Here on Byss, however, Palpatine could laugh at death. For he sat a stone's throw from his clone vat chamber, where a dozen clones floated suspended in nutrient tanks. He had come to Byss to die.

  And to be reborn. The Emperor would erupt in blue energy, leaving a shattered shell behind. Then, thanks to his researches into dark side lore and cloning, he would enter one of his own mature clones. When he opened his new eyes, he would have a strong, young body once more. The dying was painful, and the transition unpleasant to be sure, but a little suffering was a small price to be paid for immortality. The very thought of his new body made his grin widen, and a dreadful cackle emerged from deep within his throat. Most people who heard that laugh immediately found good reasons to be elsewhere.

  The Emperor's Grand Vizier, Sate Pestage, was merely used to it. Pestage stood waiting silently at the threshold of the small room, still as a statue. He had come to confer with his master, but he would not emit a whisper until the dark and glorious one acknowledged him. Pestage was a wizened figure of a man with ancient, craggy features. In some ways, he seemed older than the Emperor, and his emaciated form was lost in his voluminous bejeweled robes. Nonetheless, Pestage was tireless in his service to the Emperor, and acted as his personal assistant in all things. He prepared meals, managed affairs, and scheduled the day's events.

  Now Pestage simply stared at his master's decrepit form in sorrow. Pestage may have been old, but he had an aura of stubborn health around him. Palpatine radiated only decay. It pained him to see the dark one thus diminished, and Pestage gave silent thanks to the Force that the citizenry of the Empire did not see their sovereign this way. To the rest of the galaxy, Palpatine was a middle aged, charismatic figure with a commanding presence. Of course, this image was the product of the finest holotechnology. When he was thus afflicted by the aging, the Emperor did not make public appearances, trusting the day-to- day running of the Empire to his most trusted advisors, such as Ars Dangor.

  Dangor made all the public addresses and Pestage acted as an intermediary in all communications with the Emperor. Only a tiny handful of beings saw Palpatine as he really was, beings such as the Sith Lord and the Emperor's Hand. Palpatine slowly turned to face the Grand Vizier. "What is it, my friend", he said quietly, beckoning to Pestage. The galactic ruler had a voice full of eerie sibilance that would seem appropriate issuing from a sepulcher. That voice, Pestage knew, could change from gleeful satisfaction to blackest menace in the space of a moment. Now it was calm, almost gentle. "Is the proclamation prepared as I have ordered it?" Pestage took a step into the room, robes whispering, and held out an ornamental datapad. On its small screen, a short paragraph was illumined.

  His Imperial Majesty has decreed that the current emergency involving armed terrorists spreading death and destruction throughout the galaxy requires the temporary institution of martial law. The regional governors will now have direct control over their territories, allowing them to take the necessary steps to put a swift end to these cowardly and criminal attacks that threaten the families of every law-abiding citizen. For the duration of the crisis, the Imperial Senate will be in recess. Reports that criminal activities have been supported by members of the Senate are being fully investigated. Rest assured that the terrorists will soon be brought to justice, and stability will reign throughout the galaxy.

  The Emperor finished reading and nodded in satisfaction. This proclamation would complete his New Order. There would be no "recess", of course. With the disbanding of the Senate, the last vestige of the "Old Republic" would be expunged. No political opposition to the New Order would be possible. The impassioned speeches of Senators such as Leia Organa could influence public opinion, and those voices must be silenced. Mon Mothma had brought this on herself, giving Palpatine the perfect excuse. She had gone too far, openly declaring against him and then orchestrating the theft of the data on project Death Star. Vader was even now on a mission to recover the information. Mothma was beyond reach for now, but at least her accomplices in the Senate could be stripped of power. One day, though, the Emperor mused, he would find her and teach her the true meaning of fear.

  The proclamation also formalized the Tarkin doctrine. Now, each system would be kept under control through fear, a potent weapon indeed. The Death Star had been completed in the Horuz system and was very nearly operational; it would soon become the symbol of the New Order. When Palpatine next opened his eyes in the clone vat chamber, they would gaze upon a galaxy totally under Imperial power. "You've done well, Sate Pestage. The phrasing is excellent as usual. Ars Dangor will make this proclamation as soon as possible." The Emperor grinned blackly and handed back the datapad. He moved to sit in his thronelike chair with some difficulty. "I will not make any more decisions until after I am young again." Pestage nodded. Palpatine pointed a crooked finger at him. "I wish nothing to disturb my meditations. I must have peace for the transition. When my time is near, I shall call on you to assist in my preparations."

  Sate Pestage bowed deeply. "Yes, my master", he intoned, and quietly left the
Emperor's chamber.

  Moving through the labyrinthine halls of the Citadel, Pestage reflected that he was a free man for the next several days. His master's meditations were trance-like, and Palpatine neither ate nor carried out any activities, weakening himself to the point where he could simply will the transition. Pestage would help his master to his bed, then leave him in complete isolation for that most private of experiences.

  The Grand Vizier did not pretend to understand the workings of the Force, but he knew his life would be empty without the glory of his master to light his universe. Even to be away from him for a few days made Pestage feel a little hollow. Perhaps he would visit the combat arena as a diversion. There was a fight to the death between a Wookiee and a Gundark this afternoon. Perhaps. But he would stay close to the Citadel, just in case.

  * * *

  Palpatine was at one with the Force. His frail physical form was left behind, and his mind roamed the galaxy. His galaxy. He could feel its life and death energies, and through his connection to the dark side, he could savor the strength that was his reward for service. For the Emperor himself was only a servant. All of Palpatine's efforts were directed towards the creation of a galaxy where the emotions of a thousand million worlds would feed the dark side with anger, fear, and aggression. Certainly, he loved the personal power he received as the foremost user of the dark side, and he had every intention of holding that power eternally. Together, he and the dark side would rule every living being.

  Fundamentally, the dark side was chaos, entropy, a destructive force ever held in balance against the light side. But the dark side hungered for dominance, and Palpatine gave it a chance. He had no illusions. It would consume him, too, if he let it, but that would never happen. He would serve it for always, and everything else would serve him. Through the Force, the Emperor could communicate with others such as Vader across huge distances, though he sometimes preferred the holotransmitter for the way it created a huge image of his form to intimidate the viewer. Often, he could "see" what was happening where he turned his mental gaze, an ability which had given him a huge advantage during his rise to power.

  Now he sent his mind in search of the Death Star, and the familiar presence of his servant, who by now should have recovered the data and returned to the battle station to act as the Emperor's representative. Tarkin had been given a free hand in using the Death Star, but anyone with power needed watching, no matter how loyal. It was with some surprise that he located the Death Star in orbit around the jewel-like world of Alderaan. He could "see" the enormous sphere floating against the starry blackness of space. The Emperor was not in awe of any technology. As he had so often told Vader, the Force was the true power in the universe.

  But he did find the Death Star to be beautiful. It was merely a means to an end, but it was a lovely and impressive means to an end. Palpatine sent his mind into the station, reaching out for Vader while keeping his servant unaware of his presence. Vader was in the command center, with Tarkin and the young Senator (former Senator now) Leia Organa. It took an extra moment to focus on Vader, since there seemed to be a strange echo of his mental signature present. The strain of the approaching transition was evidently beginning to take its toll.

  Tarkin began to speak, with a crisp superiority. "Princess Leia, before your execution I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now."

  Palpatine had chosen Tarkin well. Another man might have his own power in mind, rather than the Emperor's. But what had this young woman done to deserve execution? Now she spoke back with a haughty defiance evident in her stance and tone. "The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers." Anyone could speak with defiance when they didn't see quite how much trouble they were in; Tarkin was holding back something devastating, and now he decided to show it to her.

  He was terribly polite, however. "Not after we demonstrate the power of this station. In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that'll be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power ... on your home planet of Alderaan." Palpatine felt the shock in the young woman. So, she was a rebel agent! It was more proof that he was right to disband the Senate; it had become a viper's nest of rebels.

  Curiously, he also felt shock in Vader. His servant did not like this development. But what of it? What was the Death Star for, after all? Through the influence of Bail Organa, Alderaan had become a hotbed of sedition. Better to have it gone.

  Organa had begun to babble futile protests. "No! Alderaan is peaceful. We have no weapons. You can't possibly-"

  But Tarkin let the mask of civility drop. Beneath it was the face of the Imperial War Machine, cold, hard, and merciless. "You would prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system!" He moved menacingly towards her, and she retreated, only to come up against Lord Vader. That strange mind echo of Vader vanished, finally. Tarkin spoke in a low voice. "I grow tired of asking this. So it'll be the last time. Where is the rebel base?"

  "Dantooine", Organa seemed to crumble. "They're on Dantooine". "There, you see Lord

  Vader, she can be reasonable", Tarkin gloated. "Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready."

  "What?",shouted Organa.

  Tarkin let his amusement show. "You're far too trusting. Dantooine is far too remote to make an effective demonstration. But don't worry. We will deal with your rebel friends soon enough."

  "No!" protested Organa, but it was, of course, too late. Immense beams of force emerged from the Death Star's superlaser, joining to form one awesome shaft that stabbed once at the core of the planet Alderaan. That was when a stunning and wholly unexpected surge of power hit the Emperor like a tidal wave. In his private chamber in the Imperial Citadel on Byss, Emperor Palpatine lay prone on the cold floor, limned in dark fire, his yellow eyes burning like twin suns.

  * * *

  Sate Pestage responded to the biomonitor alarms immediately, crossing the citadel in minutes. He pounded the door release of the meditation chamber, expecting to find his master overcome by disaster, and was completely taken aback to find himself staring into the face of an erect and apparently healthy Palpatine. The Emperor's face was dominated by a savage smile, and he seemed full of vitality. "Don't fear", the Emperor rasped, reaching out a reassuring hand to Pestage. "I am in no danger, but something has happened to me that I have not foreseen! It changes everything - I must understand it."

  "Master", Pestage stammered, "it is well that you are safe. When I heard the alarms, I was in conference with Lord Vader. He wishes to speak with you. Should I transfer his signal?"

  "No, Sate Pestage." Palpatine seemed highly agitated. "Delay him while I consult the Holocron." He was already heading for his bed chamber, moving with a new strength that amazed the Grand Vizier. Pestage bowed and the door hissed shut. The Emperor reached towards an ornate stand on which rested a smooth cube that softly glowed blue. He took it in his gnarled hands, caressing the ancient writings on its elegantly tooled surface.

  The Holocron felt warm and alive. Deep within the object, organic crystals awakened. He felt a light touch on his mind as the Holocron sensed his surface thoughts and summoned the knowledge he required. There was a shimmer in the air, and a hologram of a somewhat grotesque alien with clawlike hands and an exoskeleton appeared above the cube.

  "Dark One", the hologram spoke. "Listen to the words of Bodo Baas, the gatekeeper, and learn the story of the Krath sorcerer, Gant Feer. In the bleak days when Ulic Qel-Droma was a leader of the conquering Krath, Feer was one of the dark side adepts under his command. Feer was both depraved and ambitious. It is thought that he alone had access to certain terrible secrets of the power, and he used them without Ulic's knowledge. Feer captured Jedi and ritually murdered them. Each terror-filled death weakened the light side and strengthened the dark side. B
ut one Master escaped to tell the tale, and so we know that Feer boasted of being able to feed on their dying energies, absorbing strength through his link to the dark side."

  Bodo Baas paused. It was hard to tell from such a face, but the monster seemed reluctant to speak to him. When it resumed, it seemed to look right at him. "Gant Feer did not live to enjoy his gains. Ulic noticed how powerful his underling had become, and had him assassinated. Feer's secrets died with him. Take heed, Dark One. To take life from the death of others is possible, but it may bring ruin in unforeseen ways." With a steamy green glow, Bodo Baas dissolved.

  Palpatine sat silently in thought. As Alderaan was shattered, he had felt a huge surge of power flowing into him through his connection to the dark side. At that moment, he had been unprepared for it, too surprised and stunned to move or think. But he had felt like he could have done anything, anything at all. He thought he knew how to prepare himself for the next time, how to defend himself and turn the power to his own ends. He might even find a way to overcome the problem of his vulnerable clone bodies. An entire world, teeming with life, had died in terror! If the story of Gant Feer was any indication, such an event would have strengthened the dark side.

  As one with the Force, Palpatine had been filled with that power, though it had passed through his grasp like a gale force wind. He laughed suddenly as he realized that this gave the Death Star a wonderful new purpose.