[Short Stories] - Dark Emperor 3(6)

Vader stood. If he was put off by this ceremony, he did not show it. Instead, he went along with it. He handed a datapad to Sate Pestage. “Your majesty,” Vader intoned, “I have confronted and fought the young Rebel Force user, Luke Skywalker. I found him to be formidable, but his skills were undeveloped. He has enhanced physical abilities, the power to levitate objects, and reasonable skill with a lightsaber, but little else. What success he had in eluding me was due to a certain raw talent, perhaps inborn in him, as well as considerable good fortune. He resisted my attempts to turn him to the dark side. Kenobi must have prepared him for this before he died. The battle was ultimately one-sided, and when he was pressed to the last, he chose to leap to his death. His companions in the Millennium Falcon rescued him, and his current location is unknown. I am able to resume my search, but first I have brought something to you, your majesty. During the battle, Skywalker lost his right hand. I have recovered it for you. The Force gave me a sense of its importance.” He waved a black gloved hand, and the medical droid, Beevee, came forward with the Bacta tank.

Palpatine had been stewing while listening, his anger growing hotter as Vader presented an account that omitted his betrayal. He was tempted to accuse Vader on the spot, but he sensed that Vader would only deny it. He had lied about Luke Skywalker’s Force potential; Palpatine knew it was high. He would certainly lie to save his own life from a sentance of death for treason. But when Palpatine saw the hand, his rage evaporated. Here was an opportunity indeed—one that could tell him the future in a safe way. The Emperor actually smiled. “Well done, Lord Vader. The hand will be very useful indeed! But now I wish you to suspend your search for young Skywalker. Your new orders are to assemble as much of the fleet as possible at the new Death Star at Endor. Then you will oversee the final stages of construction. Moff Jerjerrod must be encouraged to complete the station on schedule. At the very least, the superlaser must be ready when I arrive at the station. Go now, and do my bidding.”

Vader bowed deeply, and left. The Emperor sensed his frustration at the orders. Beevee remained behind holding the tank. The droid looked intimidated by its surroundings. Palpatine turned to Sate Pestage. “Summon the Constable of Homunculi and Ars Dangor immediately. Return this droid to the command ship and bring the hand to the clone vat chamber. I shall wait for you in the conference room.” With that, Palpatine left the room, leaning on his twisted cane.

Beevee was relieved to have the hand taken from him, and as he was escorted from the throne room, he reflected that he was glad he was not a protocol droid. There was much about human interactions that quite bewildered him.



The Emperor gestured for Rollo Mon to take a seat at the large table where he, Ars Dangor, and Sate Pestage were gathered. Rollo Mon bowed to the other men at the table politely. He rarely saw them, as he was reclusive and habitually immersed himself in his work. Sate Pestage was a stick thin man who bore the weight of his uncounted years with a spry endurance. He wore a roomy cassock that glittered with rare gems from his homeworld, and he was quite lost in the gaudy garment. Its wealthy appearance contrasted with Pestage’s face, which had the stamp of an ascetic on its weathered features. He looked utterly at peace. Ars Dangor, the Emperor’s advisor, looked almost like a mirror image of Palpatine. Unlike most of the advisors, Dangor chose to garb himself in the fashion of the Emperor himself; stark black robes with a deep hood. Dangor had that hood removed now, and his widely spaced eyes gave his hot stare a disconcerting aspect. He wore a constant leer on his thin lips, and he had a towering reputation for ruthlessness. While Pestage dealt with Palpatine’s personal matters and acted as an intermediary in communications, Dangor made public addresses and ran the Empire day to day. Dangor dealt with all the “little pictures” while Palpatine dealt with the “big picture”, and Pestage dealt with Palpatine.

Rollo Mon himself was a short man who compensated for his lack of height with an almost absurd head ornament that nearly doubled his stature. He smiled nervously with his uneven teeth and sat down abruptly, unsure of social graces.

When all were seated, Palpatine rose. He was looking very old, and Rollo Mon well understood the reason. But the Emperor’s eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he began to outline the reason for their gathering. “My friends, welcome. Lord Vader has brought us the means to clone our elusive enemy, Luke Skywalker. The Force has shown me that I will confront him soon, but the outcome remains unclear. I am sure you can appreciate the need for more information.” The other three men murmured their agreement. Dangor displayed agitation at the mere mention of Skywalker’s name, and Rollo Mon leaned forward in excitement, pleased at the notion of a new challenge. Looking at Rollo Mon, the Emperor continued, “I wish to clone Skywalker and test him, to see what he will most likely do when he comes before me. I need the clones soon. Can it be done?”