[Short Stories] - Dark Emperor 2

By Brendon Wahlberg

As the Galactic Emperor finds a new to immortality, a galaxy in the throes

of civil war faces death on a gigantic scale. A new battle station capable

of destroying an entire planet, ensures that the Empre will rule by fear.

Palpatine is secure in his belief that he has no enemies left to threaten him.

But on an obscure rim world, the son of the Emperor’s greatest servant is

stepping onto the galactic stage.

Guided by the force, Luke Skywalker carries the power to throw the

Emperor’s meticulous plans into chaos…

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 had 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 the dark side world of 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 had the first time, and although this was going to be his second death, it was impossible to become accustomed to such a thing. 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, and lose his last physical form, 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 knowledge of cloning, and dark side lore from the Holocron of Ashka and Vantos Boda, 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 Sate Pestage to see the dark one thus diminished. His Master’s discovery of a way to cheat a premature death had been a great relief to Pestage, but then they had learned the harsh truth that the new body would only last a few short years. Already it was time to take another. 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 holo-technology. When he was thus afflicted by the aging, the Emperor did not make public appearances, delegating the day-to-day running of the Empire to his most trusted advisors, such as Chief Advisor 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 Darth Vader, the Sith Lord, and Mara Jade, the Emperor’s Hand. It was a strange affliction to deal with, to be sure. Aside from his trusted inner circle, no one must see the impossible changes in the Emperor’s appearance. His mastery of the Force had to be kept a secret from the Empire as a whole. This led to some odd situations. Sometimes, Palpatine had to use a personal holographic projector to disguise his sudden great youth, or great age. For example, Bevel Lemelisk, the designer of the Death Star, had seen the Emperor in his aged state. After Palpatine’s rebirth, he would have to meet with Lemelisk while holographically concealing his youth. Helping to maintain these deceptions was one of the ways in which Pestage faithfully served his Master.