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[Short Stories] - Dark Emperor 4(11)

By:Brendon Wahlberg


The entire crime must have been recorded by Palace security cameras. Palpatine monitored all the rooms of his advisors. Even now, security might be on its way to take her into custody, or even kill her on sight. She had to flee. She forced herself to take stock of her options. One thing was certain, she needed to leave Coruscant. 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 good-bye. You may have thought you were clever, choosing exile, but I cannot allow that. So sorry, old man.