Nothing is Ever Truly Over
Chapter Nine
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"Zorii?!" Poe called out as he ran through the alleys, trying to find her. "Zorii?!"
Rey really delayed him with her little talk, so he had to play some serious catch-up with the former bounty hunter. Considering how mad she seemed to be, he figured it best to hurry and find her, and hopefully smooth things over.
He then reached a more open, multilevel area. Finally, he caught sight of her purple-clad figure a level below, at a railing by the gap created by the skyway, just standing there and looking up at all the buildings. On Coruscant, the absence of light grew stronger the lower they went. The darkness grew daunting.
He took one last moment to prepare himself for what he imagined was a massive scathing. With that extra courage, he approached her, passing a weapons cache with some Smart Rocket launchers atop it.
Zorii stared up into the entrenched darkness, searching for any speck of light. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to finally be free from the life of the underworld and reconcile with Poe. Explore life and its beauty, after experiencing its ugliness for years. For the first time in a long time, she had hope.
But then Rey returned. That's when everything changed.
She threw a wrench into their reviving relationship. She was driving a wedge between them, preying on Poe's loyalties and using them to turn him against Zorii. And the worst of it was that Rey knew him better than she did now. She knew the right words to say to keep Poe on a leash, and was also smart enough to restrain herself enough to maintain that innocent image, something Poe would fall for hook, line, and sinker. He couldn't help himself from being the hero.
But Zorii could see who she really was: a feral animal. She saw it even when they first met, when she leveled that blue laser sword at her face. That was pure primal instinct she saw in her eyes. She knew because she had been the same way once: the 'shoot first, no questions asked' kind of person.
She felt a presence approach behind her. In the blink of an eye, she drew one of her pistols and leveled it at the intruder's head.
Poe looked at the end of the barrel pointedly, completely unsurprised. He was kind of used to it by now. But the look in her eyes – sadness that she tried to cover with anger – told him she was on the edge of lashing out. There was a very real chance she would pull that trigger.
"Could I have some last words first?" he remarked, cracking a roguish smile, attempting to bring some levity and de-escalate the situation.
In the blink of an eye, all her anger washed away. How was it that Poe could always do that to her? It had happened before. She had spent years stewing her anger at him for leaving, only for it to wash away the moment she laid eyes on him again on Kijimi.
Lowering her pistol but not re-holstering it, she warned him, "You better have a damn good reason for going along with the farce Rey's propping up."
"Hey, she's trying to make a better galaxy," Poe defended. He was also somewhat frustrated at her inability to understand that.
"In the worst way possible!" She shot a doubtful look at him. She couldn't believe how blind he was. "I may not be as smart as you, but executing people who have already surrendered has got to be a war crime! How can you stand there and be okay with that?!"
He was ready to continue arguing, but he quickly realized he had nothing to counter with. Nothing substantial. "Sometimes we have to do things we don't like to make a better future."
"Where do you draw the line, then? Is the creation of a dictatorship still a good idea if it's supposedly for the greater good?" The annoyed sarcasm in her voice was prevalent.
"I want to make a difference!" he finally snapped, her persistence finally getting to him.
He saw the hurt in her eyes, and realized that was the wrong thing to say.
"Yeah. You said the same thing when you left," she muttered bitterly, looking away.
She remembered that moment like it was yesterday. She saw how bright-eyed and excited he was to join the New Republic navy. Seeing him so happy did make her happy, but then there was the other part of her. The part of her that felt selfish and was distraught with him leaving. What they had... did it even mean anything, if he was so willing to leave her behind?
It was only recently that Poe realized how much he had hurt Zorii when he left. For so long, he was riding the high of being the hotshot ace pilot that he didn't even think about it. But when faced with returning to Kijimi, he had been afraid to go back, because he knew he would have to face her. Now, she had made it clear that he had wronged her tremendously.
"I was so sure that you were a different man from the one I knew, but then we talked and you were still the same. I thought that was great." She then looked back towards him, a betrayed look on her face. "But then it wasn't. You truly haven't changed a bit; you still just want to be the hero."
That stung Poe greatly. Hearing someone talk about his passions like it was just some way to cover up his insecurities really bit at him. But hearing her specifically say all that was like a punch to the gut. He could brush off most anyone's harsh words, but not hers. Hers always left a mark on him.
Behind the both of them, a glimmer of white armor shone as its helmetless wearer stealthily made his way across the plaza. He kept an eye on Resistance General Poe Dameron and what looked like a female bounty hunter as he snuck over towards the weapons cache, attempting to not alert them.
Further back, on the same lower level as him and on the upper level, his comrades shifted into position to cover him with their FWMB-10 repeating blasters – fantastic when it came to suppressive fire – just in case. They needed those rockets, otherwise the Resistance would crush them.
Poe felt so insignificant under Zorii's unrelenting words. He wasn't used to feeling that way. "Well, what else am I good for?" he posed to her. "You know that there was nothing else going for me before I got that offer."
She couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for him at the sheer resignation in his voice. It was almost as if he believed himself inadequate. That wasn't like the Poe she knew. In her experience, he was just the opposite: always playing himself up to look better than he really was.
"Look, Zorii," he sighed. "I'm just trying to be the best man I can be."
Out of the corner of her attention, she caught an anomaly. A flash of polished white behind them. Alarm bells rang in her head as their eyes locked.
"I want to be better for-"
Though it required courage to say what he wanted to say, he was cut off when Zorii shoved him to the side with one arm, her other raising the pistol she never put away to fire at the trooper.
It was only thanks to their locking gazes that the trooper had just enough of a notice to evade the shot, stumbling over his feet and nearly tripping. With two rocket launchers over his shoulders, he didn't waste any time and just ran back for his comrades.
When her shot rang out, it provoked retaliation from the other troopers.
"Engage!"
Immediately, Zorii and Poe were met with a barrage of blaster fire. The former bounty hunter fired one last shot at the fleeing rocket-thieving trooper before being forced to dive for cover with Poe.
She pulled out her other pistol and peeked out of cover, only to immediately duck back in and avoid a torrent of blaster fire. A glance at Poe showed he was blindsided and caught completely off guard. Only now did he have his pistol drawn.
"Just like old times, huh?" she remarked, aiming to bring some levity.
Poe looked at her incredulously, wondering why she was bringing that up at a time like this. "Which time? The time we had to escape a New Republic prison ship, the time we got set up on Kessel, or the time we got drunk on Kijimi and started a gang war?"
"All of them!" She stood and peeked out of cover just enough to aim and release a brief salvo of blaster fire from her pistols, re-entering cover shortly after.
Poe thought she looked like such a symbol of strength, facing down multiple adversaries with nothing but a couple of high-power blaster pistols. She was not a pushover whatsoever. And he couldn't help but love that about her.
He peeked above the crate they used for cover, only to immediately get back down when a rapid burst of blaster fire nearly took his head off.
He couldn't face down the troopers fearlessly like Zorii, at least on the ground, so he instead chose to remain safe and blindly fire his pistol above cover. He wasn't nearly as good with blasters as she was. He had always been the pilot between them, and she the shooter. Granted, they helped each other out with the skills they lacked: he taught her how to fly, and she had taught him how to shoot a blaster. But between them, he was still the better pilot, and she the better shooter.
From behind them, on the other side of the skyway, came a flash out of darkness.
Following it immediately came the distinct booming crack of an NT-242 high-caliber longblaster. The incredible blast completely chewed up a concrete pillar one trooper was taking cover behind. Though it was just barely too thick to allow the blast to hit the trooper on the other side, it was a clear example of the sheer power of the weapon. It was also an eye-opener to the troopers that they were now outmatched. That in itself wasn't too concerning insofar as completing their mission, as their main objective was simply to get the rockets. Rather, it simply let them know that it just got a lot harder to escape.
"Retreat! Let's go!"
With that command, all of the troopers ran for it, some of them returning fire sporadically when confronted with the extra blaster fire coming from the same area as the sniper shot. Whoever that sniper was had company.
Now no longer under attack, Poe and Zorii recognized that this was the time to counterattack. They both stepped up and returned fire with their pistols, using the unexpected long-range support to their advantage.
She nearly got a shot on the rocket-thieving trooper, but he managed to evade only by his own desperation to escape back to safety. It was either run or die for the troopers. If they surrendered or were captured, they would die anyway. And they all knew this.
Despite being under heavy fire – not just from Resistance General Poe Dameron and the unknown bounty hunter but also from the unknown reinforcements from across the skyway – the small squad of First Order troopers managed to escape. The fear of certain death spurred them on; it made them stronger than before.
Both Poe and Zorii looked to each other, breathing heavily from the adrenaline. As both re-holstered their pistols, they looked into each other's eyes, fully blown with lust. For a moment, it was just like old times between them, just living each day at a time. Both had fond memories of the past between them, and it invigorated both their hearts to relive that for a moment.
But then Poe felt his comm go off.
Answering, he saw the blue hologram of Zay Meeko – daughter of Del Meeko and Iden Versio, both part of the infamous Inferno Squad within the Empire – smirking at him. "You're welcome," she said lightly.
Poe shook his head fondly. Of course it was her that saved their behinds. Only the new Inferno Squad were so stealthy yet bold. "Thanks, Zay. I owe you one." He then saw another figure on the outskirts of the hologram's reach. Even with that little to go off, he recognized the person. "Hey, Shriv."
The old, grizzled Duros grumbled, "Yeah, yeah, hi."
It was always refreshing, Poe found, to be in the grace of Shriv Suurgav. He was always good, entertaining company.
"Don't be such a dummy, Poe," Zay advised in farewell, cutting the comm right after.
The pilot wanted to talk to Zorii now while he still had the courage to do so. He was ready to finally say it. He faced her again…
… only to find her already walking away, back the direction he had come looking for her.
"Come on dummy, let's go!" she called out to him, not stopping for him.
He sighed in both disappointment and exasperation as his arms clapped against his sides. She must still be mad about Rey's execution order. But dammit, was it frustrating to get so close and yet remain so far away.
"You see, Zorii, I want to be better for you," he finished to himself what he wanted to say earlier. Even knowing she wouldn't hear it.
"Because you deserve better."
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"So, what have you found?" Rey prompted Beaumont Kin.
Both of them as well as Chewie stood before the former Imperial Palace. Though long since abandoned, it seemed untouched even after all these years. In the Force, the place felt like a dark, haunting stain on the planet. Perhaps that was enough to keep people away from it, even long after the fall of the Empire.
"We hit a block straight out the gate. From what we've seen, there's no way to open the doors," Beaumont answered Rey's query. "No handles, no electronic locks, nothing. The doors have to be opened through some other way."
Rey nodded. "That makes sense." At his curious look, she clarified. "This used to be the Jedi Temple."
"But the Emperor was a Sith," he countered, confused.
"Jedi, Sith, it doesn't make a difference." She waved it off. "They're more similar than you think. There's little that one side tried that the other didn't try also. It stands to reason they would both utilize doors that could only be opened using the Force." Her hand gestured out to the palace. "The Jedi may have originally created this temple, but the Emperor seems to have kept much of the basic design when he refurbished it."
"Huh," he went, fascinated with how much he was learning. "I didn't know that."
"Of course you wouldn't," Rey quipped, uncaring of how offensive she sounded.
She never held much fondness for Beaumont Kin. She always thought he bragged about his knowledge. Though it proved useful when it came to finding and eliminating her grandfather, it made her feel inadequate about how much more he knew when it came to the history of the Jedi. But she knew more about the Force from a practical perspective, and no longer did she care about specifically learning Jedi history. Knowledge was knowledge, no matter where it came from. And knowledge, was power.
"Get out of my sight." She dismissively waved him away.
He looked at her weirdly as he left, like he didn't know her at all. That satisfied her in a twisted way. The way she saw it, no one really knew her. No one still alive, at least.
"Chewie," she looked to the Wookie standing to her right. "Thank you."
She meant it. She really needed his great comfort after talking about Ben.
He moaned an inquiry.
She smiled and replied, "Yes, I'm okay now."
The Wookie moaned again, this time in concern.
She gave him a friendly, reassuring pat on the arm. "Don't worry, I can handle myself."
Chewie nodded hesitantly. He still felt something was wrong with her. He could see her fists were clenched, like they had always been ever since she returned. It reminded him so much of little Ben when he was still Kylo Ren. But he could see in her eyes that bright, young girl in her.
With that, they parted ways.
Finally alone, Rey turned back and strode alone towards the Imperial Palace, formerly the Jedi Temple. Something called to her within the building, and she didn't want her dark curiosities to turn her loyal friends against her.
She reached the entrance. Like Beaumont had said, it was not a conventional door. It was one that could only be opened using the Force.
Not a problem for her. With a wave of her hand, she flung the entrance open. The darkness within stared back at her ominously.
She was not afraid of the dark. Especially not now. She headed inside.
Once she was inside, she closed the way behind her. It was no one else's concern what she was doing here.
Once the last bit of light vanished and total darkness surrounded her, she brandished her lightsaber, flipping it into its staff position and igniting it. Blood red light lit her surroundings.
She walked throughout the palace, following the call she felt yet also taking in the place with the light she had. As much as she hated her grandfather, she had to admit he knew how to live luxuriously. It was the direct opposite of how she had lived most of her life. She couldn't help but wonder: had she been raised by him, would she have lived the same way? A part of her found that higher class lifestyle attractive, if only because she grew up the lowest of the low.
As she walked and navigated each floor on the way to her destination, she came across several different artifacts interspersed throughout the palace. She saw some that Luke had detailed in his books, one such being a large vase found on the planet Zeffo. According to the text, it was believed to be used in training Zeffo Force-wielders.
There were several Jedi as well as Sith artifacts she came across as well, and even artifacts she didn't recognize as being from either sect. Many of them she had never seen before. It interested her. Just from this great collection, she could tell that her grandfather had an exceeding knowledge of the Force. Even just a quick glance in the library further confirmed that. There was so much knowledge in this one building, all of it now available to her.
Finally, after climbing up the central spire, she arrived at the entrance to the throne room. Above the entry was a large painting of a woman in black brandishing a red lightsaber. For some reason, she looked extremely familiar.
Rey squinted. It took a moment, but with a start, she finally realized who was in the painting.
It was herself.
She didn't know what to think. How was there a painting of herself here? She had never set foot in here before. More importantly, when was this put up? The Imperial Palace had been abandoned for over thirty years now, let alone how she hadn't even existed until ten years after its abandonment.
A closer look told her that she was a little bit different in the painting than she was now. This was a Rey that was fully confident in her power, yet one who was also more monstrous. That deadly smirk that painted her lips was even more poisonous than her own thanks to sharpened teeth, like that of a predator. Deathly pale skin, with contrasting golden eyes, made her look inhuman.
Rey grit her teeth. She would not end up that way. That painting meant nothing.
With that resolute denial, she used the Force to open the door.
Immediately upon entering, she noticed how open the throne room was. It was large and there were actually windows in the room. For the first time, she could actually see out of the building. The windows featured a distinct spider web-like design, much like she had seen on the Death Star II's throne room. Outside of them, lied the Coruscant skyline. The buildings weren't lit up like they had been centuries prior thanks to the ongoing scattered battles. Power had only been restored to a handful of districts so far.
Regardless, there was enough light filtering in from the stars. Hence, she silenced her lightsaber, the unstable blood red blades all too happy to retreat back into the hilt.
She made her way up the steps to the throne, to the calling she felt. It was the very same throne she had seen on the Death Star II, only this one was merely deserted, not crippled.
Once upon a time, her grandfather sat on that throne. And what better way to show she had defeated him than to claim his throne as her own?
With that sense of superiority in mind, she claimed her grandfather's throne, now her throne. She perched herself on it very properly, hands folded over the lightsaber resting on the edge of her lap, like a princess. Technically, she was a princess. But it was only now she got to embrace her royal birthright.
A blinking button on the armrest caught her attention. Strange. This whole palace felt dead, so why this sign of activity?
She was too curious, though. She pressed it.
A hologram appeared before her, stood at the top of the steps to her throne. Then one word was crooned by it.
"Granddaughter."
By him.
The former Emperor Sheev Palpatine.
Immediately, her anger, her rage, flared intensely. She didn't even notice she had ignited her lightsaber again. She was just so consumed with the hatred she felt towards her grandfather that it overrode all other thoughts.
The Emperor smiled in that twisted way of his: that he knew something the other did not. "I knew you would come."
Rey's glare was smoldering enough to light a match. "How?" she growled out.
"Thanks to a place between places… a world between worlds… I foresee everything," his gravelly voice revealed. His lips twisted in an ironic smirk. "I foresee you killing me decades from now. And I foresee everything will proceed according to my design."
Rey didn't know what to think. Even though she knew for a fact her grandfather was dead, he somehow was able to still plague the galaxy from beyond the grave. He could communicate to her in real time while he was in the past, from a time before her own existence, which boggled her mind. It made her realize her grandfather was powerful beyond her own comprehension. And yet also, it made her so angry that he just wouldn't die for good.
It also angered her that he had foreseen her killing him. He had all the time to avoid that fate, yet he didn't. It made her victory over him feel worthless, because now she realized she had given him exactly what he wanted by killing him. And she hated giving him what he desired.
"You are so unlike your father. In a good way."
Bringing up her parents spiked her rage. "Don't talk of him like that!"
"My son," Sheev's own restrained rage shined, "was a coward. I gave him everything he needed to become great, and yet he never used any of it. He had no courage, no initiative, no cause he believed in." He smiled cruelly. "You could say he was the opposite of young Luke Skywalker."
The way he said 'Skywalker' sounded so nauseating and disgusting and filthy. So much so, that Rey even felt dirty just having known him. The way Sheev merely said his name made her want to disassociate herself from her former master even more than she already did.
"While young Skywalker had nothing but courage, my son had everything but courage."
Though Rey did ultimately agree and thought that her father keeping her away from her grandfather was the only good thing he ever did, she didn't want him to know that she agreed with him on anything, solely out of spite.
"He only grew a semblance of a spine once he met your street rat thief of a mother, after the fall of my Empire. And even then, it took years for him to agree to take you away. But you are different." He closed his eyes as he seemed to relish that fact. "I felt it when you were born in my ancestral home on Naboo… I felt just how special you were."
She was born on Naboo? It didn't matter too much to her since she never knew the planet, but at least it was a question she didn't have to wonder about anymore. She truly did not remember anything about the planet, but from a quick deduction, she can assume she was around five-ish when her parents left her. She did not remember anything else before that, so if what her grandfather said was true, she must've lived on Naboo, in her family's ancestral home, for those first five years of her life.
"You were my contingency, meant to carry on the ways of the Sith in the event I passed on. You are my greatest achievement." Sheev looked upon her with twisted pride. "Even greater than Darth Vader."
She hated her grandfather so much, but even she had to admit, that stoked her ego like little else. To now be seen as superior to the man that Kylo Ren held in such high esteem felt good. Because, though she hated her grandfather more, she also hated Kylo Ren. She hated how inferior she was to him, how he always seemed to have the upper hand over her. Now, she felt like she has one upped him.
But just getting one over on Kylo Ren was not enough for her. She wanted to be superior to her grandfather as well. What better way was there to stick it to him?
"Even greater than you, you shriveled old man," she countered with a hiss. "When people speak the Palpatine name in the future, they won't think of you. They'll think of me. I will be far greater than you ever were."
Oh, it felt so good to openly defy him. She wanted to stick it to her grandfather as much as she possibly could. The hatred she felt for him was blinding. And if there was one person who deserved all of her hatred, it was him. He was the one who had corrupted Ben Solo into Kylo Ren. He ultimately orchestrated the encounter that caused his death. There was no one she hated more than her grandfather.
"Yes, you will be," he crooned, that evil grin splitting his disfigured face. "After all, it is as they say: 'history is written by the victor.'"
The fact that he still had that twisted smirk made her feel so angry. He seemed to talk as if he had still won, even in death.
The truth of the matter was, he had. He pushed Rey far enough that she would willingly give him exactly what he desired: his legacy immortalized forever, thanks to her. With the last Skywalker removed from the picture, she could no longer resist the call to the Dark Side. She would carry on the legacy of the Sith, even if only to spite him. It was all too easy to stoke her hatred, her anger. Sheev was all too gleeful that everything had worked out as he had foreseen.
And Rey was blind to all of it. She had no idea she was playing into his hand. The hatred was too strong for her to think of anything other than destroying the legacy he had left behind.
"Then I will be sure to see your legacy wiped from the history texts," she sharply retorted. "As is my right as the victor."
Sheev just chuckled in dark amusement. Oh, how naïve she was. "Then you will be pleased to know that my legacy is now yours. Do with it what you will."
The confusion was plain as day across Rey's deathly pale face. What was his angle with this? "What do you mean?"
"Everything I own, I have left to you." He saw she was still confused, so he placed special emphasis. "Everything."
A wave of his hand let to another hologram coming up in between them detailing exactly what he meant: a Xyston-class Star Destroyer, specifically the Derriphan. Lines of text detailed its weaponry and crew, pictures and profiles of the ship's command were provided, any detail that could prove useful when forging a battle plan was there.
Including the communication codes to contact it.
"Use it wisely," her grandfather advised with a rotting grin, "and nothing will stop you, Empress Palpatine."
At his taunt, she gave him a withering glare, but did not object. Though there was power with that name and title, a part of her also despised it solely because it was what her grandfather desired.
Sheev's hologram then disappeared, though the hologram of the Derriphan remained.
With the source of her rage now gone, she retracted her lightsaber blades and her haze of anger receded. She recognized now that she had an important choice to make.
Option one: she could kill the hologram, and pretend this whole thing never happened. She immediately scrapped that one, because the power the Derriphan had could not be allowed to run freely.
Option two: she could locate the Star Destroyer and order the Resistance to destroy it. The problem she saw with that option, though, was that the Derriphan's sheer resilience would make it so any attack on it would claim a great number of Resistance fighters. She saw that amount of loss as excessive and needless.
Then there was option three: take command of the Star Destroyer and use it to serve her own goals. That sounded like the best option. It would avoid unnecessary loss of life and, what she prioritized more, would keep the power of the Derriphan under her control.
Something else also played a part in her decision-making. For the first time since Tatooine, she felt light. But unlike back then, she recoiled at it now.
"Jedi," she snarled as she stood up and began pacing like a caged animal. "I did what you asked. I destroyed your ancient enemy. And then you just left me." There was so much hatred in her that it was just begging to be let out. And she did. Dramatically so.
"AND THEN YOU LET BEN KILL HIMSELF FOR ME!"
She reignited her lightsaber and, with an angry yell, furiously threw it at a wall. Sparks flew from where the blades impacted.
"YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN WITH HIM!"
She then buried her face into her hands, muffling her sobs. Why did Ben have to die? It should've been her instead. She can't bear living without him. The pain of being forced to live without him was greater than anything she had experienced before. Not even when her parents left her did she feel as much pain as she did now.
It took a moment for her to compose herself. The red light in the room from her thrown saber reminded her she had lost control of her emotions again. But she was beyond caring about that anymore. Why should she care about Jedi teachings and philosophy when they failed her? She called her saber back to her hand, disengaging the blades when it smacked into her hand before folding it back up and holstering it.
Now back in control, she took back her seat on her throne and focused on that feeling of light, trying to find out where it was. It wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. It felt like she was connected to it in some way. It felt like a person, one so familiar. But it was impossible. Ben Solo was dead. Whoever this… this impostor was… enraged her.
"I can feel you, whoever you are," she muttered to herself. "And you will die."
With her perception of how the Light Side had betrayed her – had taken away that which she desired most – she finally came to a decision. With her choice in mind, she pressed a button on her throne's armrest.
XXXXXXXXXX
"Captain, we're receiving a holo-transmission request," one of the comms officers notified from the pit aboard the bridge of the Derriphan.
Captain Chesille Sabrond did not turn away from the window leading to the deep, pitch black depths of space. "Denied," she flatly refused.
She refused because she knew it was possible to trace her ship's location just through a holo-transmission. She would not allow her ship to be so exposed and vulnerable. Instead, she continued her musings, standing there with both hands folded behind her back.
A woman of discipline, it was hard to get her to change her mind. But she was good at following orders. She was aware of the destruction of the Sith fleet, and that her ship was the last of it. She also understood it meant she was no longer under anyone's command. It was a situation she wasn't used to, and didn't really like. She was trained to follow orders to the letter.
"Ma'am," the officer spoke again seconds later. "Whoever sent the request has sent another. It seems they are insistent to talk."
She turned her head, catching the gaze of Lieutenant Milon Lenwith, her second-in-command. There was no one whose opinion she trusted more than his.
And the look he sent her was one which reckoned this was a situation worth checking out.
Finally turning to face away from the window, she said, "Put them through."
A moment later, a large hologram of a head sprung up, filling the bridge. It was a woman, not one she recognized though felt similar to someone else she knew, covered by a hood. She had a huge presence on the bridge, literally as well as figuratively, as she stared down at her.
That did not intimidate the Captain, though. She had been in the presence of her Emperor over hologram. And she had great discipline.
"Who dares to contact this-AH!"
She was cut off at the end of her query as an invisible force pulled her down by the neck and slammed her into the floor, then dragged her across the floor to the other side of the bridge, now just behind the hologram. She was then forcibly turned around upon passing the large hologram.
The rest of the bridge remained silent. Nobody thought it wise to do anything for the moment, lest they encounter similar consequences.
"That is no way to greet your rightful Empress," the woman chastised her in a voice that made her skin crawl as her hologram momentarily phased out before reappearing, now with her head turned around to face her.
The combination of the whispery, serpent-like voice, the hooded figure, and the title she used jarred the Captain's brain. She knew who she was now.
She felt the invisible force recede from around her neck. She put her fallen cap back on as she got up to her knees before the woman. "My sincerest apologies, my Empress," she bowed her head to her subserviently.
Everyone else on the bridge followed her example, kneeling to her in submission.
"See that it does not happen again, or else your Lieutenant will be up for a promotion," Rey warned.
Chesille nodded her understanding. Then, she asked a question that burned at her mind. If she was Empress now… "My Empress, do you know what happened to our Emperor?"
She saw Rey's features twist in barely controlled rage. "My grandfather is dead. I have taken his place."
The Captain felt that invisible grip tighten just enough around her throat to level a threat against her.
"I will not hear anymore of him from now on."
Chesille quickly nodded, and the grip loosened.
"Now," Rey leaned forward, her hologram looming over the Captain menacingly, "I have a target for you to destroy."
If there was one thing Captain Chesille Sabrond was good at, it was following orders. Her Empress' commands were no different. "Name it, my Empress, and it will be gone."
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There's chapter nine! In this, Poe and Zorii have a lovers' spat, they get ambushed by desperate Stormtroopers, they get their asses saved by Inferno Squad, Rey investigates the Imperial Palace alone, has a LOVELY chat with Grandpapa Palpatine, and gains control over a planet-killing Star Destroyer.
I went back to chapter 8 and clarified Ezra and Sabine's fate. I left it vague at first because I thought I might get to explain it later, but then I realized there was no time for it so I decided to just put it in there.
I actually am really interested in Zay. I thought the Resurrection DLC for Battlefront II really gave her a great jumping-off point for making an interesting story for her. For any talented writer, please get out there and do her justice!
Now, the big guest of this chapter: Palpatine! Or rather, just Sheev, since there are now two people with Palpatine as their last name. Or maybe Grandpapa Palpatine? I actually really loved him in TROS. I would've loved him anyway, because it's Ian McDiarmid playing him. He can literally do no wrong. But I actually understood what the Emperor was doing, what his plan was. It was basically just like what he was doing all throughout the prequels and what he did with Luke and Vader: playing both sides, that way he wins no matter what. He supported both Rey's and Kylo's claims to his throne, Rey through right of birth and Kylo by right of conquest.
I kind of incorporated parts of that mentality here. Even though he's dead, he's always going to have multiple contingencies in place to make sure his influence continues to live on, even if it's through Rey unwittingly upholding his legacy. He literally cannot lose. He has prepared for everything; as such, he will always win.
I came up with the backstory for Rey's parents all on my own. As far as I'm aware, none of what I've used is actual canon. I've had the idea that her parents were like this ever since I saw the movie. Her father, the antithesis of Luke Skywalker, and her mother, a thief living from one day to the next. I didn't specify whether or not her father was a clone, because in the end it doesn't really matter. But personally, I treat him as if he was created the conventional way. It's so true to life that these monstrous people can still get some action. Some people out there have no standards, and would gladly sell their soul to the devil. It makes things more complicated, and I like complicated things. It's why my favorite Star Wars movie is Revenge of the Sith and why I absolutely LOVE the prequels.
Contrastingly, Rey actually was born on Naboo in canon, though there are no details of her early life on Naboo besides that. Well, not that I know of. I actually really like that idea because it fits her character. Naboo is a beautiful place, but she never knew it, much like how she doesn't know her own beauty.
Well, that's all I have to say. If you enjoyed, please feel free to fave, follow, and leave a review!