Chapter 6 – Part One - Death Star
All that had been mentioned at the beginning of the journey was that they were going to the site where the construction of a new fleet would begin and Jorus had been incredibly tight lipped despite being ordered on several occasions to part with the information. He stalked the bridge of the Star Destroyer growing ever more agitated, pacing backward and forward – not really doing much to the hide his feelings while subtly trying to discern their destination despite the gleam of mischief in the Admiral's eye, his knowing smiles. How this was to be accomplished was befuddling but if recent successes were anything to go by he was going to have to wait. After about half an hour he'd caught a glimpse over a tech's shoulders of their destination - Had Abaddon – which meant they would be there soon.
It hadn't escaped his notice that Galen and Mara both stood side by side, although, neither seemed to like Anakin overmuch, unsure of the reasons why but it was obvious in slight gestures, comments all which seemed to snub the so called saviour, Chosen One. Having now seen the true nature of the Force he scoffed at that suggestion, Anakin was likely a fluke being unnaturally powerful but something was amiss - Galen was easily his equal. From his research and Sith lore it was known that Darth Bane had been a true Sith'ari, but he was doubtful anymore would follow. His thoughts were interrupted by their exit from hyperspace, as he could indeed see that the impossible had indeed been realised.
There, floating before them in space was the fabled Star Forge, thought destroyed, yet obviously whole and intact. Could two have been manufactured? He mused, or was history wrong about its destruction? It seemed that both Admirals been colluding, building the weapons of mass destruction by using the legendary Forge to increase production - although he added silently it was all done without permission. It showed good initiative and thinking but that is why they were part of his Inner Circle, while his tools were not. Quite clearly he had underestimated them as both men had surpassed all his expectations. Promotions would be required, Grand Admirals perhaps? His thoughts drifted back to Byss, of the new batch of clones that were almost ready, a younger and more able Count Dooku, Darth Maul and many others. But first they must decide on a plan of action – the ultimate choice would be his but always best for the subordinates to feel they were contributing.
Jorus looked at both of them; the project was proceeding excellently as each had its superstructure in place. It had been merely four weeks since they had acquired the device. Its rate of manufacture was astounding. He turned towards the Emperor gesturing towards the meeting room. "M'lord the others are waiting for us"
"I wish to meditate for a little while first." This was a lie of course, wanting to stare out of the window passively into the depths of space wondering absently what lay in other galaxies – dreaming of universal conquest. So far he had absorbed the knowledge off half a dozen Holocron's as his power and skill grew in leaps and bounds. Soon, very soon this war would end with victory for the Empire, his Empire.
"We will be waiting," he said bowing his head once, walking off to the suite set side for their meeting, his footfalls falling silently as the doors clicked shut.
The doors opened half an hour later with a slight hiss admitting Sidious into the room as his very presence seemed to leech light and vibrancy out of the room. Colours that were warm and inviting were now dull, lifeless. Tarkin for the most part seemed to more or less immune to the effects although his forehead did furrow briefly then relax as though whatever the troubling him was now past. Anakin noticed that the Emperor seemed sprightlier than ever before moving with an inhuman grace and energy. A quick glance picked up that he was still clutching the same pyramidal holocron, in one palm, holding it reverently then placing his other hand atop it as he sat down – subtly caressing it with an index finger.
"How long before the Death Stars are complete?"
"At the fastest possible rate probably a year"
His tones were incredulous. "That long?"
"Yes and that's using the Star Forge"
"Using the technical specs in the Iconian database both me and Jorus have come up with some new ships designs"
Anakin's comment jumped out unbidden, but his tone suggested disbelief, that they were both ignoramuses with the skill and knowledge of a moisture farmer, "Really? Is that so?"
Tarkin looked up in surprise mouth opening briefly, his expression spoke volumes of his intent to admonish but of deciding at the last minute to remain silent, leaving words unsaid – hoping Anakin would have mellowed after being beaten…but that had just made former Jedi more vicious. Since his arrival on Byss he'd racked up quite a body count, killing any who displeased him. Silence was the better option for now.
"Are they complete?"
"Yes my Emperor" acknowledged Jorus beaming. "It seemed the Iconians had fantastic technology way beyond us." He shared a conspiratorial glance at Tarkin, neither betraying the truth. What neither let slip was the fact that plans already existed in the database which suggested other rather troubling things, namely that the technicians or Force users of the Old Republic had seen, even using the schematics for the construction of ships that were still in use today.
If Sidious was aware he neither showed nor acted upon it.
"Is there anything else we can use?" Inquired Anakin who had been itching to read the contents, but so far had been denied by his Master.
Tarkin's smile was something that contained neither warmth nor happiness; the reply was cold and calculating, more like a predator who's snapping jaws were waiting for the unwary, its hapless prey already straying too close as it was. "Yes."
Silence reigned at the table but it was another who filled the gap, the Emperor himself. "Teleportation"
Anakin scowled in frustration wanting to say something but scared to do so, after last time…..
He walked the hallway aimlessly concern etching his features at the reports that were circulating over the Holonet, living beings dead by the millions. It was either that or be converted to some religion called Origin. Never had Jedi or Sith been so soundly trounced before, it was…he searched for the right word, unheard of. Whatever the Priors did it was not the force, either dark or light, but something else entirely. Even Sidious hid here from his defeat on Coruscant behind barred doors. Kicking a small droid watching in delight as it skidded across the floor only to emit a shrill cry as it hit a wall, exploding into small pieces.
Galen walked by casting a reproachful eye. "You are angry."
He did not bother to hide or deny it. "So what!" It was not even satisfying to vent anymore somehow the energy of the dark side seemed to feed on it, twist it, making the feeling worse.
"Perhaps if you calmed down," but he never finished the sentence as the Chosen One reached for his lightsaber. "Maybe you should discuss your feelings with the source of the problem," he whispered conspiratorially looking pointedly at the intricately carved doors.
"Maybe I will," the tones showed defiance and deep resentment.
Good riddance thought Galen that was too easy watching as Anakin strode confidently away. Truth was he felt the same way just that the former Jedi was competition and it was best to get rid of any challenge, sneaky was always best.
The doors did not open or show any signs of moving by themselves so summoning the force pushed hard, grunting in annoyance as they stood…defiant. So that's how he wants it. He ignited his lightsaber thrusting angrily it through the metal door, secretly wishing it was Sidious' heart. Surprised it remained unyielding despite the resemblance to plasti-steel realising it was comprised of something far stronger and more resilient. A thought entered his head, unbidden, Mandalorian? Surely they would not supply such material willingly?
Very few things about his master were straightforward, well apart from his cowardice to face his foes again. It kept coming back to that! Although he felt sure that all together they could vanquish their foe, to learn the secret of their power. He kicked the doors which still refused to budge causing the Sith to wince in pain. The pain only fuelled his rage however as he lashed out again then pushed somewhat more explosively with the force than he intended. The metal squealed like a stabbed Jawa, finally giving way as it clattered onto the floor, swinging ajar, inviting. The throne room was deserted, empty, but he could feel the presence of his Master down the dark unlit corridor where none were permitted.
In the distance there was a reddish hue that made the corridor shadows darker than they actually were, personally pitch blackness would have been preferable as whatever the cause was making it impossible to see using the Force. It many ways it reminded Anakin of some of the afterlife legends that persisted of a dark gloomy placed where the dead were made to pay for past sins. Not that he believed in any of that. Arcane energies resembling a miasma the colour of blood surrounded the Emperor and the pyramidal holocron. Moving with a will all of its own the mist came towards him, seeming to crawl along the walls and ceiling. Despite years of training he felt unable to move, feet rooted to the spot in fear. Wood and stone crumbled under the assault of the esoteric forces, followed by a strange spectral wind blasting anything still standing apart in its wake. Whatever it touched became subject to extreme entropic decay.
Whereas an older man would have stifled any comment or gasp at what he saw as common sense as fear overrode any innate reflex, Anakin however could barely stop himself. "What the….."
A voice replied but it did not sound even remotely human making the words impossible to discern. Whatever remained of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was replaced, by this…thing. It slavered like a rancor but the voice was something he would take to his grave. It had the noise, the buzz and power of a starship engine. The assault changed as the reddish hue was replaced by pure unadulterated Dark side energy, some kind of vaporous mist making it hard to breath, drawing life from the young Sith. Unable to stand any longer, collapsing to the floor, cushioned the fall with his hands. Colours seemed to drain becoming almost black and white, the stone floor crumbled under his fingertips and objects seemed to blur.
"Please." His pleading came to naught, even reaching out trying to grasp his Master's robe in the hopes it would bring salvation in the form of awareness of what was happening.
Suddenly it stopped and all that he could hear above his own heartbeat was the droning of an unfamiliar voice. Eyes briefly saw the fabled figure of Darth Revan talking on a holocron laughing at…at him. When was Darth Sidious going to share his knowledge?
"Do not ever interrupt me again", the voice that accompanied the threat was human once more but the tone carried no anger, just a warning. Then he seemed to be whisper, the tones were too low to hear anything coherent, to the holocron itself which caused the fabled Revan to nod once.
"But Master, people are dying in the millions. We have to stop these Priors"
Satisfaction was evident in the tones, obviously caring nothing for anything other than pure power. "Let them die", he tried to interrupt only to be silenced by a gesture, "Leave me"
Bowing once he left, ashamed, browbeaten, drained. He barely made it out of the doors before falling into the arms of Mara Jade and before consciousness slipped from him the awful and malicious stare of Revan.
