[Short Stories] - Dark Emperor 4(3)

She returned to Coruscant in disgrace, but she was the only one who knew it. The Emperor had already left to go to Endor, where he planned to trap the Rebel fleet. He had not even contacted her, or acknowledged the failure of her mission. He had been forced to go and face his fears and it was her fault. Worry and a sense of doom hovered around her for several days until she finally came to the ancient hall to practice the meditation skills that Palpatine had taught her, to try to find some escape from her deep unease. She reached out to her Master, calmly and carefully, but his mind was closed to her. She could not sense him. Then, just as she was settling into a meditative state, letting the Force flow through her, a vision of Palpatine hit her like a silent explosion. Her eyes jerked open, but the view of the distant mountain range was utterly blotted out by larger than life figures that floated before her; they seemed more real than the room she was in. The Jedi, Skywalker, and the Sith Lord, Darth Vader, were standing in front of a seated Palpatine. Behind her Master, a circular window looked out on the stars. A moment later, she saw Skywalker gesture commandingly at Vader, and they both moved together to attack Palpatine with their lightsabers. To slaughter him. She saw his face between their grim forms as they closed the gap. He was looking directly at her. Such a sense of betrayal was in his yellow eyes—she gasped at his look of rage and terror. In his last seconds, a crystal clear message came through to her, so strong she could have sworn he was there in the room with her.

“YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER!” It was his last command. Vader and Skywalker cut him down without mercy, and the vision ended. Mara Jade crumpled to the floor, unconscious.



Emperor Palpatine knew he wasn’t dead, but then, he wasn’t exactly alive, either. As the Death Star began to erupt, he reached out through the Force to find Mara Jade’s mind. It was his only choice, given the pressing need for a swift escape. Finding it, he established a special link between them, through which he could use her as a “spirit anchor”. A moment later, the stormtroopers and officers around him screamed in final terror as simultaneously, a fireball devoured the air in the corridor and the floor vanished, opening a gate to an inferno. Palpatine’s pain was all-consuming, but very brief. His clone body was vaporized. He felt his consciousness stretch out, impossibly thin, bridging the gap from Endor to Coruscant. With a violent snap, he hurtled into the mind of Mara Jade. He huddled around the Force-sensitive node in her brain, trying to regain coherence of perception; the brief journey had been enough to leave him severely disoriented. For an eternal moment, he had been exposed to the dark side’s chaotic force of dissolution. If it had been able to claim him, he would have been swallowed into its madness for eternity. But now, Mara Jade’s living, organized mind provided him with a shield against that chaos. He was safe.

But something had happened that he hadn’t expected. Most of his dark power had been stripped from him and left behind in space near Endor. Mara Jade’s mind simply could not contain it. Additionally, his state was nothing like what he had expected from his studies on spirit anchors. It was different on the dark side, he now learned. He wasn’t entirely within the Force while retaining his individuality. This was more like a kind of possession. Worse, it was a kind of imprisonment. Palpatine was a guest who couldn’t survive leaving.

And so, diminished, shorn of his form and power, and almost defeated, the former Master of the dark side of the Force clung to Mara Jade’s mind as he slowly came back to himself.

His main goal now was his restoration. He had not panicked at the end, that was critical. Instead, he had sent a message to Sate Pestage, which would hopefully convince the Grand Vizier to bring Jade to Byss. There he could leave Jade’s mind and reenter one of his clone bodies. Even as he had made the transition into her mind, he had created a false vision of his death for her, calculated to make her blame Skywalker for his murder. Palpatine still wanted revenge, and he still felt Mara Jade was best suited to carry it out. But she must have the complete conviction that the boy must die. From his position within her mind, Palpatine would do his best to encourage that belief. Skywalker had an unfortunate talent for making allies out of his enemies, and that must not happen with Mara.

Even though he had lost, the game was not over. The Emperor’s power was merely eclipsed for a time, and before long, he vowed, his name would once again inspire fear throughout the galaxy.



Still dwelling on his feelings of inadequacy, Sate Pestage knocked softly at the door of the Emperor’s chief advisor, Ars Dangor. He had walked slowly through the ornate halls of the Palace, staring disconsolately at what he perceived as a terrible emptiness. The advisors and government officials he passed knew nothing of the disaster that had occurred. They went on about their business in blissful ignorance, and the vast body of the Empire continued to lumber along, not realizing that it had been decapitated. The news sat like a hot stone in Pestage’s gut. He had to share it or it would sear his innards. The first person who had to be told was Dangor, who took care of so many of the day-to-day details of running the Empire. After Palpatine and Pestage himself, Dangor had the most power in the government. He would know what to do to prevent a panic. All too soon, news from the surviving military elements at Endor and from the Alliance forces would pour in. The government on Coruscant had to be prepared lest the blow shatter it.