So now this unhappy tale comes to its sad end. But there was one task left to do. One Gungan was indeed alive. For the moment. Jarjar Binks. His body was bruised, cut, bleeding and in pain. Plus there was the mental pain he was suffering. All of the events on Naboo where reported to him in considerable glee by his captors, always emphazing to Jarjar, the suffering of his people and the Senator's own role in causing the Genocide.
Jarjar was chained in the execution chamber, facing Whitesnake, Tarkin and the Emperor. 'So, this is he,' The Emperor gloated, 'the last member of the species we have destroyed.'
'Not for long,' confirmed Tarkin. 'We can execute him any time we like and have no reason to keep him.'
'How about now?' ordered the Emperor.
'As you wish my lord,' replied Tarkin. Tarkin took out his blaster and checked it carefully. Given the importance of this act, he wanted to carry it out himself.
Jarjar Binks looked on miserably. He knew he was facing death. Jarjar tried to look on the positive side and to keep some kind of hope in his heart, but it was difficult after all that had happened. Tarkin fired. Jarjar Binks twisted, his body flailed, for a minute he felt intense pain all around, and after that, the feeling left his soul, and he died.
'Very well done,' applauded the Emperor. He was impressed and happy with the turn of events. Whitesnake was happy. He knew that Tarkin had tried to test him with this operation, but as far as he was concerned he seemed to have passed and been trusted by Tarkin was a happy position to be in. Tarkin was happy. The Galaxy certainly had sat up and taken notice of the genocide that the Empire had committed. They would be taking them with a considerably more fear now.
But the Evil of the empire hadn't ended. In fact, it had barely just begun, and to start on the rest of the galaxy.
THE END.