Chapter 2:
Summons to Bastion
Two women in their mid-seventies with sharp facial features and stern jaw lines strode into the austere Imperial conference room on the capital world of Bastion. Although both women had long, graying hair and a fair amount of fine facial creases, neither Morgana nor Typhani could, in spirit, be called elderly just quite yet, particularly Lady Tarkin. Her Phelarian bloodline afforded her a much longer than human average life expectancy; in fact, by Phelarian standards, Typhani was just reaching the high side of middle age. Two more women in their mid-to-late thirties followed, their very resemblance bearing the fact of their sisterhood. A seeing-eye droid hovered dutifully at the side of the slightly older sister, who had darker hair and eyes akin to her mother. The droid assisted Lyjéa in finding her seat.
During the height of the New Order, Paleb Viorska, Dr. Paleb Viorska, that is, had been the chief administrator of a mammoth chain of hospitals, medical centers, pharmaceutical developers, and medical droid production sites throughout the galaxy, and also headed up the largest HMO in the Empire, landing the lucrative Imperial government contracts. His superior and useful management and administrative capabilities came to the attention of the Imperial military as well, and so Emperor Palpatine personally placed Viorska in charge of military medical response during the fight against the Rebellion.
Never considering himself a warlord, the rotund Viorska found himself compared to such as he did manage to muster his own faction of supporters following the Battle of Endor. He was much less zealous, less hot-headed, and a better manager than many of his warlord counterparts with whom he vied for control over various segments of the remaining Empire. He had prudently declined an invitation to attend a summit meeting during which his renegade counterparts had been eliminated, not wanting to be even remotely associated with such company. Thus, Viorska found himself in a position of respected leadership as Regent, a high-level advisor, when the New Republic and the Empire agreed to peace six years ago, and the Imperial Remnant Council was formed. In essence, Viorska had been there since the beginning and had seen it all; thus, he too was now quite on in years.
The Imperial Remnant Council now consisted of eight members, the best of the remaining leaders of the various sections of the fragmented Empire. Although the Council was now stable, and had been for over two years, no obvious replacement for their lost Emperor Palpatine had yet been identified. The best hope available had ended years ago when Grand Admiral Thrawn was killed. However, if Viorska and Vice Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, the only two lead Imperials privy to some very secret knowledge, had their way, all that would change over the course of the next few months.
Lady Tarkin drew an audibly shaky breath and began to wring her hands. The last time she had personally seen Paleb Viorska, it was through eyes parched with tears and an anguish so deep and utterly soul-wrenching that she barely remembered the event itself; only the pain and grief lingered. Lyscithea put a calming hand over her mother's as Viorska came into the room, excused the guards, and closed the door behind him. The reflection from the light panels in the walls shone prominently on the bald area in the middle of Viorska's graying head, and his dark blue, bejeweled Regent's robe rustled against his chair as he took his seat. He knew the forthcoming conversation was going to be especially difficult for Lady Tarkin. The last time he had seen her, she lay sleeping, albeit fitfully, from the powerful sedatives he had ordered. Their gazes met, and Lyscithea clutched her mother's hand tightly in reassurance.
"Greetings, my esteemed ladies. It is good to see you all so well," Viorska addressed them. He hesitated, then continued. "I think you have probably figured out why I have asked all of you to come here."
Lyjéa spoke up then. "Do you think it's possible now?"
"Yes, Professor Tarkin, I do," he assured her straight away. Viorska gave them a moment to let the information sink in. "You do understand, however, that the recovery process is likely to be very complicated and difficult, and so we need to discuss and agree upon some of the initial technical details," he advised.
Typhani leaned forward across the table and said to Viorska in a tense yet steel-stern voice, "No matter what, I don't want him cloned, and I don't want him to end up like Vader!"
"Yes, of course," Viorska reassured, extending his hand across the table. "Cloning is absolutely out of the question, rest our beloved Emperor Palpatine, and we don't anticipate the use of any major cybernetics."
"All right, but what exactly do you have now that you didn't have back then? His injuries . . . " Lyjéa asked.
"I'm glad you asked that," Viorska said, seeming to look forward to flaunting his latest medical breakthroughs. "We have developed and tested a new, non-bacta, cell regeneration nanotechnology that repairs the body cell- by-cell at the root of the genetic code. This technology can regenerate damaged organs and tissues, including bone, and can also help reverse the cell death from large radiation doses such as those emitted when the Death S--" He stopped short as Typhani turned her head away and moved as though she would get up and bolt from the room. Lyscithea put an arm around her mother. When Lady Tarkin regained her composure, Viorska continued, careful to speak in more generalized terms. "This technology is essentially the opposite of the biomechanical reducer we applied to the former Rebel Chief of State about fifteen years ago."
"I remember that," Lyjéa acknowledged. "But just because you can now repair all the damage doesn't mean that, well, that he'll--be there--when it's all finished," she cautioned. "Why, then he'd be a vegetable--no better than in the carbonite!"
"That's where a new neurobooster comes in. We believe it can essentially jumpstart the central nervous system," Viorska responded. At that point, he felt some of the wall of cautious skepticism between him and his guests begin to dissipate.
"And these technologies and drugs and such have been tested?" Lyjéa asked pointedly, turning her face even more in the direction of Viorska's voice.
"Yes, Professor, quite thoroughly, in fact. Full lab results are available for your examination, and we have arranged for a tactile readout holoplate terminal for your use. Alternately, we will be glad to have a droid read the material to you," Viorska explained, knowing he would get his most difficult technical objections from the Grand Moff's eldest, tech- head daughter. "It's so unfortunate about the Maw Installation," Viorska thought to himself, "Lyjéa would have been so much at home there."
Lady Typhani's ears rang and her head began to throb as the possibility started to become real to her. She was afraid to speak her next question too loudly. "How long?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
"Well, that's the drawback. As I mentioned, the process will be long and quite involved. After all, there are billions of cells in the body. The first step will be for our best medical team to stabilize him once we bring him out of the carbonite--"
Typhani shot in forcefully. "But you couldn't keep him stable before! You tried for three days! That's why we had to put him in the carbonite in the first place!"
"Mom, I'm sure they have better equipment and procedures now, and that Regent Viorska has planned this thoroughly. Before, everything was so rushed, and you were stuck all the way out on Tallaan, or all places. Now they know what's coming and can prepare for it, and of course we'll insist on the best facility," Lyscithea reassured her mother.
"But what if they can't--if they can't keep him stable again?" Typhani cried.
"Yes, what is the contingency for that?" Lyjéa asked.
Viorska's spirits sank. Now he sensed a split forming among his guests. "If that happens," he began, enunciating his words very slowly and precisely. "If that happens, and I think it is very unlikely that it will, but if it does, we can always have the chamber ready and put him back down."
"Back into the carbonite, you mean?" Lyjéa asked.
"Yes," Viorska answered.
"All right, but then assuming you can get him stable, and keep him there, how long is this neurobiomechanical regeneration process supposed to take?" Morgana asked, reiterating her sister-in-law's concern.
Viorska felt it best to be straightforward with them on this point. "A few weeks."
"I was afraid of that," Lyjéa said, and folded her arms across her chest. "And then what? He walks out of the medcenter and takes command?" she asked, a bit of sarcasm creeping into her voice.
"Well, not immediately," Viorska conceded.
"Uh-huh," Lyjéa muttered.
"If all goes as planned, he'll slowly come around during the initial regeneration process. After that, he'll just need to regain his strength and abilities. Now, considering the length of his encapsulation, and the types of injuries he has, there will probably be some tasks he'll have to learn over; in fact, he'll very likely have to learn to walk again." Typhani's head sank into her hands at that.
"And . . ." Lyjéa continued, "he may have reduced vision."
Viorska hesitated again, all the more uncomfortable that it was Lyjéa who made the point. "Some people emerging from prolonged carbonite encapsulation do, others don't. We do now have treatment protocols in place to minimize this effect, however."
Viorska had noticed that the end goal of all of these plans seemed lost on his four guests. He felt it timely to remind them. "But remember, ladies, if all does go well, his life's greatest dream will be realized. Your husband, your brother, your father--he will be installed as our new Emperor." He then glanced at his chronometer. "I'm afraid I have to call our meeting at this point, but I would like you all to stay overnight to consider the matter, and we will discuss it again in the morning. I have arranged for some secluded quarters to give you some privacy. So if there are no more questions at this point?"
Typhani looked up at him again. "You and the others, you could have proceeded without us," she said.
"Yes, yes we could have. However, considering your husband's status and his service to the Empire, we felt that he deserved the consultation of his immediate family. And, of course, your support will be essential."
Lady Tarkin seemed to settle into a quiet contemplation. She knew how badly her husband had always wanted to succeed Palpatine. In fact, she had ultimately agreed to the carbonite to give him that chance.
Summons to Bastion
Two women in their mid-seventies with sharp facial features and stern jaw lines strode into the austere Imperial conference room on the capital world of Bastion. Although both women had long, graying hair and a fair amount of fine facial creases, neither Morgana nor Typhani could, in spirit, be called elderly just quite yet, particularly Lady Tarkin. Her Phelarian bloodline afforded her a much longer than human average life expectancy; in fact, by Phelarian standards, Typhani was just reaching the high side of middle age. Two more women in their mid-to-late thirties followed, their very resemblance bearing the fact of their sisterhood. A seeing-eye droid hovered dutifully at the side of the slightly older sister, who had darker hair and eyes akin to her mother. The droid assisted Lyjéa in finding her seat.
During the height of the New Order, Paleb Viorska, Dr. Paleb Viorska, that is, had been the chief administrator of a mammoth chain of hospitals, medical centers, pharmaceutical developers, and medical droid production sites throughout the galaxy, and also headed up the largest HMO in the Empire, landing the lucrative Imperial government contracts. His superior and useful management and administrative capabilities came to the attention of the Imperial military as well, and so Emperor Palpatine personally placed Viorska in charge of military medical response during the fight against the Rebellion.
Never considering himself a warlord, the rotund Viorska found himself compared to such as he did manage to muster his own faction of supporters following the Battle of Endor. He was much less zealous, less hot-headed, and a better manager than many of his warlord counterparts with whom he vied for control over various segments of the remaining Empire. He had prudently declined an invitation to attend a summit meeting during which his renegade counterparts had been eliminated, not wanting to be even remotely associated with such company. Thus, Viorska found himself in a position of respected leadership as Regent, a high-level advisor, when the New Republic and the Empire agreed to peace six years ago, and the Imperial Remnant Council was formed. In essence, Viorska had been there since the beginning and had seen it all; thus, he too was now quite on in years.
The Imperial Remnant Council now consisted of eight members, the best of the remaining leaders of the various sections of the fragmented Empire. Although the Council was now stable, and had been for over two years, no obvious replacement for their lost Emperor Palpatine had yet been identified. The best hope available had ended years ago when Grand Admiral Thrawn was killed. However, if Viorska and Vice Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, the only two lead Imperials privy to some very secret knowledge, had their way, all that would change over the course of the next few months.
Lady Tarkin drew an audibly shaky breath and began to wring her hands. The last time she had personally seen Paleb Viorska, it was through eyes parched with tears and an anguish so deep and utterly soul-wrenching that she barely remembered the event itself; only the pain and grief lingered. Lyscithea put a calming hand over her mother's as Viorska came into the room, excused the guards, and closed the door behind him. The reflection from the light panels in the walls shone prominently on the bald area in the middle of Viorska's graying head, and his dark blue, bejeweled Regent's robe rustled against his chair as he took his seat. He knew the forthcoming conversation was going to be especially difficult for Lady Tarkin. The last time he had seen her, she lay sleeping, albeit fitfully, from the powerful sedatives he had ordered. Their gazes met, and Lyscithea clutched her mother's hand tightly in reassurance.
"Greetings, my esteemed ladies. It is good to see you all so well," Viorska addressed them. He hesitated, then continued. "I think you have probably figured out why I have asked all of you to come here."
Lyjéa spoke up then. "Do you think it's possible now?"
"Yes, Professor Tarkin, I do," he assured her straight away. Viorska gave them a moment to let the information sink in. "You do understand, however, that the recovery process is likely to be very complicated and difficult, and so we need to discuss and agree upon some of the initial technical details," he advised.
Typhani leaned forward across the table and said to Viorska in a tense yet steel-stern voice, "No matter what, I don't want him cloned, and I don't want him to end up like Vader!"
"Yes, of course," Viorska reassured, extending his hand across the table. "Cloning is absolutely out of the question, rest our beloved Emperor Palpatine, and we don't anticipate the use of any major cybernetics."
"All right, but what exactly do you have now that you didn't have back then? His injuries . . . " Lyjéa asked.
"I'm glad you asked that," Viorska said, seeming to look forward to flaunting his latest medical breakthroughs. "We have developed and tested a new, non-bacta, cell regeneration nanotechnology that repairs the body cell- by-cell at the root of the genetic code. This technology can regenerate damaged organs and tissues, including bone, and can also help reverse the cell death from large radiation doses such as those emitted when the Death S--" He stopped short as Typhani turned her head away and moved as though she would get up and bolt from the room. Lyscithea put an arm around her mother. When Lady Tarkin regained her composure, Viorska continued, careful to speak in more generalized terms. "This technology is essentially the opposite of the biomechanical reducer we applied to the former Rebel Chief of State about fifteen years ago."
"I remember that," Lyjéa acknowledged. "But just because you can now repair all the damage doesn't mean that, well, that he'll--be there--when it's all finished," she cautioned. "Why, then he'd be a vegetable--no better than in the carbonite!"
"That's where a new neurobooster comes in. We believe it can essentially jumpstart the central nervous system," Viorska responded. At that point, he felt some of the wall of cautious skepticism between him and his guests begin to dissipate.
"And these technologies and drugs and such have been tested?" Lyjéa asked pointedly, turning her face even more in the direction of Viorska's voice.
"Yes, Professor, quite thoroughly, in fact. Full lab results are available for your examination, and we have arranged for a tactile readout holoplate terminal for your use. Alternately, we will be glad to have a droid read the material to you," Viorska explained, knowing he would get his most difficult technical objections from the Grand Moff's eldest, tech- head daughter. "It's so unfortunate about the Maw Installation," Viorska thought to himself, "Lyjéa would have been so much at home there."
Lady Typhani's ears rang and her head began to throb as the possibility started to become real to her. She was afraid to speak her next question too loudly. "How long?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
"Well, that's the drawback. As I mentioned, the process will be long and quite involved. After all, there are billions of cells in the body. The first step will be for our best medical team to stabilize him once we bring him out of the carbonite--"
Typhani shot in forcefully. "But you couldn't keep him stable before! You tried for three days! That's why we had to put him in the carbonite in the first place!"
"Mom, I'm sure they have better equipment and procedures now, and that Regent Viorska has planned this thoroughly. Before, everything was so rushed, and you were stuck all the way out on Tallaan, or all places. Now they know what's coming and can prepare for it, and of course we'll insist on the best facility," Lyscithea reassured her mother.
"But what if they can't--if they can't keep him stable again?" Typhani cried.
"Yes, what is the contingency for that?" Lyjéa asked.
Viorska's spirits sank. Now he sensed a split forming among his guests. "If that happens," he began, enunciating his words very slowly and precisely. "If that happens, and I think it is very unlikely that it will, but if it does, we can always have the chamber ready and put him back down."
"Back into the carbonite, you mean?" Lyjéa asked.
"Yes," Viorska answered.
"All right, but then assuming you can get him stable, and keep him there, how long is this neurobiomechanical regeneration process supposed to take?" Morgana asked, reiterating her sister-in-law's concern.
Viorska felt it best to be straightforward with them on this point. "A few weeks."
"I was afraid of that," Lyjéa said, and folded her arms across her chest. "And then what? He walks out of the medcenter and takes command?" she asked, a bit of sarcasm creeping into her voice.
"Well, not immediately," Viorska conceded.
"Uh-huh," Lyjéa muttered.
"If all goes as planned, he'll slowly come around during the initial regeneration process. After that, he'll just need to regain his strength and abilities. Now, considering the length of his encapsulation, and the types of injuries he has, there will probably be some tasks he'll have to learn over; in fact, he'll very likely have to learn to walk again." Typhani's head sank into her hands at that.
"And . . ." Lyjéa continued, "he may have reduced vision."
Viorska hesitated again, all the more uncomfortable that it was Lyjéa who made the point. "Some people emerging from prolonged carbonite encapsulation do, others don't. We do now have treatment protocols in place to minimize this effect, however."
Viorska had noticed that the end goal of all of these plans seemed lost on his four guests. He felt it timely to remind them. "But remember, ladies, if all does go well, his life's greatest dream will be realized. Your husband, your brother, your father--he will be installed as our new Emperor." He then glanced at his chronometer. "I'm afraid I have to call our meeting at this point, but I would like you all to stay overnight to consider the matter, and we will discuss it again in the morning. I have arranged for some secluded quarters to give you some privacy. So if there are no more questions at this point?"
Typhani looked up at him again. "You and the others, you could have proceeded without us," she said.
"Yes, yes we could have. However, considering your husband's status and his service to the Empire, we felt that he deserved the consultation of his immediate family. And, of course, your support will be essential."
Lady Tarkin seemed to settle into a quiet contemplation. She knew how badly her husband had always wanted to succeed Palpatine. In fact, she had ultimately agreed to the carbonite to give him that chance.