"Yes, my master." Vader hesitated. "Even so, I wish to find him andput an end to him. It does not make sense to ignore even a small threat. Surely, this is the lesson of the Death Star."
Palpatine considered Vader. There was some very subtle difference in him, feelings running just beyond Palpatine's reach. But the Dark Lord had been through a great deal recently. It was surely only the strain affecting him. Palpatine spoke firmly, "Young Skywalker, if that is his name, can be no threat to our might. But he is no doubt with the rebels, and if you wish to destroy him, you may do so when you crush the alliance. Now go, and work my will."
Vader arose and left, black cape billowing. Palpatine put his momentary unease aside. He could trust Vader implicitly, for Vader was entirely his, body and soul. The spirit of Anakin Skywalker was as lost as the very limbs of the cyborged giant who went out to plan the Empire's revenge.
* * *
Everything proceeded according to the Emperor's design, as he was so fond of saying. As three swift years passed, the galaxy felt the full might of the Empire. Vader's starfleet pursued the rebels across the galaxy, never giving them a chance to establish a permanent base. Rebellious worlds were swiftly punished and their resources fed into the Imperial war machine. Palpatine's vision for the galaxy was becoming a reality. Vader seemed obsessed with finding young Skywalker, but that did not seem to interfere with his search for the main alliance forces. The new Death Star took shape around the forest moon of Endor.
Then, one day, Vader sent news that he had located the main rebel base on Hoth, and was proceeding with his full armada against it. The clever rebels received a lucky break, however, when the fleet admiral brought the entire fleet out of hyperspace too close to Hoth. Had the fleet remained out of scanner range, it could have laid siege to the entire system and captured every last rebel. Instead, the rebels were alerted and had time to raise a planetary shield that Admiral Ozzel had not guessed they possessed.
The end result was a needless and costly ground battle. Sacrificing many lives in a delaying action, the Alliance managed to allow the escape of its command group. It was a rout, but it was not, frustratingly, a final victory for Vader. Palpatine received reports that Lord Vader had committed the entire fleet to the capture of one rebel ship, the freighter that had ended his defense of the first Death Star. His obsession had finally gotten the better of him.
There was a scattered, demoralized, and defeated remnant of the Alliance out there among the stars, and the time to finish them was now. There was no time for foolish hunting games. The Emperor stalked through the corridors of the palace, in full view of his court. His body had continued to age, after all, and it seemed to him that the decay might even have become faster this time. But this "age" was the one by which he was known to the galaxy, and so he could make public appearances, denouncing the terrorist Alliance and justifying the military buildup of the Empire.
In a way, public opinion was a thing of the past, irrelevant. But he liked to maintain appearances. It pleased him to let his people see him and know exactly who their master was. Palpatine strode into the main communications room, a hive of activity. Imperial Navy officers eyed him expectantly. They were angered over Lord Vader's summary executions, and felt that the Dark Lord was completely out of control. To mollify them, Palpatine had decided to reprimand Vader in public to avoid a mutiny. As he entered, the officers all knelt to him, bowing their heads. A nervous technician worked the communications station, and began the job of contacting the Executor. His fingers stumbled on the switches and he glanced up, sweating, expecting a reprimand.
But no one was watching him. All eyes were on the Emperor, who had silently collapsed onto the gleaming deck, to the open-mouthed shock of the entire gathering.
* * *
Sate Pestage tended to his master in the Imperial medical center, of which an entire wing had been cleared to treat the mysterious affliction that had overtaken the Emperor. The doctors were baffled when they were told that they would not be needed, but they were easily dealt with, and rumor control would soon have the matter in hand. Pestage knew that his master was in a vision trance. It had happened before in his presence, and he knew that all the Emperor needed was rest and privacy. Palpatine lay on a bed, occasionally whispering, eyes shut, his mind clearly elsewhere. This time, though,
Pestage found himself disturbed. He knew his master well, and impossible as it may have seemed, Palpatine was afraid of what he was "seeing." A young man stood before the Emperor, clad in black. It was the son of Skywalker. The Force was with him, and he had become a Jedi. He regarded Palpatine with defiance.
The Emperor was falling. He was filled with fear and surprise, and screamed all the way down. His body was ripped asunder by a collision with gigantic energy discharges. His life force was swallowed into the dark side, but this time, it was different. There was no immediate rebirth, only a terrifying chaos with no end...
Somehow, these two images were linked, a part of the same possible future. And Palpatine was very afraid. The Emperor's eyes flew open, startling Sate Pestage. The Grand Vizier had begun to sputter an inquiry as to his master's state when Palpatine cut him off. "Contact the Executor immediately. Send the signal to my own chamber. I require a conference with Lord Vader." And that was that. Without another word, Palpatine practically ran from the room, leaving Sate Pestage gaping.
* * *
"What is thy bidding, my master?" asked Vader, on bended knee. Before him was an enormous hologram of his master's hooded face.
"There is a great disturbance in the Force," said Palpatine.
Vader merely responded, "I have felt it."
Palpatine sternly stated, "We have a new enemy. Luke Skywalker."
So, his dark master had finally come to understand. Perhaps the great tremor in the Force had finally convinced him. Something important had happened while his forces had been sifting through the asteroid field for the Millennium Falcon. What it was, he didn't know, but all at once, his son had become significant to the Emperor. Respectfully, he intoned, "Yes, my master."
“He could destroy us," said Palpatine.
Vader tried to hide his surprise. His master must feel that his son was a threat indeed! Vader had, for three years, cherished hidden plans deep inside him, plans for his son. He knew he must downplay the boy's importance. "He's just a boy. Obi-Wan can no longer help him."
But the Emperor was adamant. "The Force is strong with him. The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi."
Vader knew this meant death for his son. The son of Skywalker. His master would not even acknowledge the boy as Vader's own, believing that when Anakin had "died," every last vestige of the man was gone from Darth Vader. But something did remain, something he himself did not fully understand. He wanted his son to live, and rejoin him. Now Vader played his hand. "If he could be turned, he would become a powerful ally."
To his surprise, the Emperor agreed. "Yes. Yes. He would be a great asset. Can it be done?"
"He will join us, or die, my master." Vader felt relief as the hologram faded. He did not understand why the Emperor suddenly feared that his son might become a Jedi. Could the boy have found a master? It did not matter. He would be the boy's master. He would show his son the true nature of the Force. He stood and moved to the doorway. There was much to be done.
* * *
Palpatine sat in his throne, pensive. He wondered what the outcome of their new course would be. He had agreed to Vader's suggestion because there had been a third vision in his trance. He had seen Luke Skywalker kneel before him, pledging servitude. My father's destiny is my own. Vader had been absent in the vision. Yes, perhaps it was for the best. Vader had become... uncertain, of late. It may be time to replace him, with another Skywalker. Perhaps this other possible future would negate the other two. The strange feeling was that he did not know. It excited him, this uncertainty. He had a new enemy, for the first time in years. He looked forward to their meeting. There was much to be made ready for
that meeting. Much to be done.
Thinking upon it, the Emperor laughed.
2
The Hand of Fate
Emperor Palpatine, master of the dark side of the Force, made no effort to hide his satisfaction as he strode across the throne room floor towards the two combatants. One of them was Luke Skywalker, a young man clad in austere black. He was holding his humming lightsaber blade at the throat of his vanquished enemy, Lord Darth Vader. Luke had given in to his anger at last, and he was astonished at how easily he had beaten the Dark Lord. Luke panted, barely containing his rage as he warily watched the approaching Emperor. The blade in his hand drifted perilously close to Vader's gasping mask. The once mighty Sith Lord was reduced to abject terror, trying in vain to crawl away from Luke. Luke saw Palpatine through a haze of anger.
The Emperor was a surprisingly small man, hunched with age and clasping his wrinkled hands together. "Good!" Palpatine said, his withered features stamped with lust. "Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny and take Lord Vader's place at my side!"
Luke looked at the fallen Sith Lord, once his most deadly foe, now completely at his mercy. He looked at his prosthetic right hand, gloved in black, and remembered that Vader had cut his real hand off when they last met. Not only that, Vader had also tortured his friends and delivered one of them to the ruthless crime lord, Jabba the Hutt, perhaps never to be seen again. And those acts barely began to scratch the surface of Vader's black deeds.
If he put an end to this evil being, he would only be giving the galaxy the justice it cried out for. Luke suddenly recalled another man who had once been helpless before a lightsaber blade, and what Vader had done to him. Then he made the decision that felt right and just. He reversed his grip on the lightsaber he had made with his own hands and swept it through the torso of the Dark Lord, crying "For Ben Kenobi!" Vader died screaming, cut in half in a heap of seared gore. Luke turned his back on the smoking corpse and faced the Emperor.
Palpatine was nearly beside himself with glee. "Well done, my young apprentice! Now, come and kneel to me, and pledge your loyalty." Luke didn't move. The Emperor smiled at Luke, but it was the smile of a crafty predator. "You cannot turn back, now, young Skywalker," he chided Luke. He held out a wasted hand, beckoning. "I shall raise you to such heights of power that your name shall forever eclipse the name of Darth Vader." Luke walked over to him, and with a grim set to his features, knelt deliberately at the Emperor's feet.
"Lord Vader's destiny is my own," Luke said with finality. Without warning, Luke moved. "Now you die!" Luke shouted, stabbing upward with his lightsaber at Palpatine's defenseless, robed body. The bright green blade did not find its mark, however. Even as the thrust began, the saber was deactivated by a proximity sensor hidden on the Emperor's person. The pommel of Luke's weapon thudded ineffectually against the Emperor's chest, and the galactic ruler lurched backwards. Palpatine saw a flash of crimson behind Luke, then the point of a force pike bloomed from Luke's chest. Luke was lifted from the floor, impaled on the long weapon of a hulking Imperial guard. Luke had known he would not leave the throne room alive, but to have failed in his one chance to kill the Emperor...it was too much despair to bear. Drowning in his pain, Luke was dimly aware that his lightsaber had returned to life. Knowing death was near, and desperate to end his physical and mental torment, he managed to turn the weapon onto himself. The red robed guard let the room's second corpse slide from his force pike and slump to the floor. He regarded his Emperor silently.
Palpatine stared thoughtfully at Luke's body for a long time. Then, noticing the guard, he dismissed him distractedly. The bland voice of Sate Pestage, the Emperor's Grand Vizier, interrupted Palpatine's introspection. "My condolences, master, on the loss of your servant." Palpatine looked at Pestage bemusedly, searching his timeworn face for a hint of the humor he thought might be behind the statement. There was nothing but a wizened serenity in Pestage's expression.
Pestage knew his master was experiencing a period of great stress, and he meant his presence to be soothing. Therefore it was with relief that he saw Palpatine calmly beckon to him and begin walking. Together, they went out into the halls of the Imperial citadel. They met no other person as they strode along in silence, for this part of the citadel was the Emperor's private sanctuary. There were times when Pestage worried a great deal about his master. Like the day, four months ago, when Palpatine had collapsed into a vision trance in front of most of the fleet Admirals. The glorious one had foreseen his own death, and despite his reliable means of overcoming that particular affliction, he had been afraid. Seeing fear in his master had shaken Pestage.
Palpatine was the foundation on which he built his life. He could not imagine what he would do if that foundation were taken away. Equally worrisome was the Emperor's accelerated physical decay as the ravages of the dark side became ever more harsh. For Palpatine was demanding more of the Force than ever before. Pestage had seen his master spend a great deal of time in his meditation chamber, trying, he suspected, to see the future. This ability awed Pestage, but for once, it did not seem to be working. Palpatine always emerged in a rage, flailing his fists and cursing his 'blindness'. He exerted more and more power, and his apparently futile efforts took a fearsome toll on his body. Only once had Palpatine given him any explanation, and Pestage had not fully understood. A great nexus was coming, the glorious one had told him, and the strands of probability were too much in flux to follow. But whatever barriers there were did not stop Palpatine from trying, and Pestage had begun to wonder if his Emperor would actually destroy himself.
Then, one day, Vader had returned with a prize. The Emperor had received his servant with a curious coldness, but once he discovered what the Sith Lord had brought, Palpatine had seemed rejuvenated. The prize had set in motion a series of frenzied preparations, as the Emperor immediately saw in it another means of gaining the information he sought - the probable outcome of his meeting with Luke Skywalker.
The prize had also made possible the contents of the room that they now entered. It was a large chamber, filled with row upon row of man-size tanks. The Emperor moved to the nearest one and wiped away the moisture beading on its glass surface. He stared at the face behind the glass with a searching intensity, but its eyes remained closed, its hair floating in the gentle currents of the nutrient bath. Sate Pestage suppressed a shiver. It was the face of Luke Skywalker. The Constable of Homunculi, Rollo Mon, stepped out of the shadows, his enormous head ornament casting bizarre shadows in the sharp green light illuminating the entryway. The Emperor turned to him, his hand still resting on the tank. "Prepare him," commanded Palpatine.
* * *
Three months earlier, Darth Vader was striding through the nearly empty halls of cloud city. Behind him, struggling to keep up, was a surgeon droid clutching a foot long cylindrical tank. They hurried past vacated apartments and hollow, silent casinos. Only stormtroopers marked their passage by saluting, their rifles held casually due to the lack of any threat. For the once thriving luxury resort was now in the hands of the Empire. Any citizens not able to evacuate in the exodus initiated by Baron- Administrator turned rebel Lando Calrissian were rounded up and forcibly deported. Those with questionable pasts had gone to Imperial prisons, as had some of the innocent, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Vader and the droid moved quickly into the lower levels of the city. The graceful sculptures and rich decor gave way to the gritty, exposed machinery of the Tibanna gas mining facility. Here and there, the squat, grotesque Ugnaughts scurried about, continuing the task of running the enormous machines. For them, one human master was much the same as any other, provided they were paid and not mistreated. Now the valuable gas, useful for antigrav devices and blasters, would go to the Empire, that was all.
Finally, the Sith Lord reached the bottom of Cloud City and entered a small control room. Vader stepped through a cloud of steam, suddenly appearing in front of Lieutenant Pralt and his work detail. Pralt bac
ked away before he could catch himself as the huge armored figure loomed up before him like a sculpted gargoyle. "Report, Lieutenant," demanded Vader.
"My Lord," the officer stammered, straightening himself. Pralt knew of Vader's reputation for anger, and he feared to give the Dark Lord even partial bad news. But over the past few days, a strange story had circulated through the ranks. A week ago, when the rebels had escaped both Cloud City and the Executor, Vader had failed to execute Admiral Piett, or anybody else. Instead, he had gone to meditate in his private chamber for three days. When he emerged, he had ordered a work detail to search the lower levels of the Cloud City reactor shaft for an unspecified object belonging to the rebel, Luke Skywalker. Rumor had it that the rebel had faced Vader high above and survived. His bravery bolstered by these tales, Pralt swallowed once and steadily reported, "My Lord, we have located what seems to be a lightsaber, but it lies in a rather difficult location." At least, Pralt assumed it was one of the old Jedi weapons. Its resemblance to the object hanging at Vader's belt gave the Lieutenant a bit of confidence.
Vader was already moving past him. "Show me," he commanded in a deep, mechanically amplified voice that was full of a surprising eagerness. Pralt signaled his men and the team led Vader and the silent droid into a narrow access corridor.
Star Wars - FanFiction - Emperor Page 3
