Star Wars Infinities: The Warrior
By Christopher W. Blaine (darth_yoshi@yahoo.com)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by George Lucas and are used herein without permission for fan-related, non-profit entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in part or as a whole without the express permission of the author.
CHAPTER 16
Darth Deceptra walked briskly through the passageways that ran like veins through the Emperor's castle. Her high boots marking her pace as she moved past Crimson Guardsmen standing like statues, unmoving but yet ever alert. It felt good to move with such freedom and she enjoyed the fact that she now had real legs, grown from a clone of herself, to carry her along.
For many years, she was afraid that she would become more machine than woman, but the Emperor was fond of her and lavished her with gifts of flesh. Now there was only the mechanical eye to betray her injuries and she refused to have it removed. It had become a part of her, a reminder of the day her beloved Anakin was taken away from her. The same day she gave birth to her son.
And to her daughter.
She was not sure how she felt about Leia. From what she knew of the child, she was an excellent pilot and a born politician and Deceptra could not help but feel a little pride about that. She reminded the Dark Lady of herself so many years before. But Leia was, like Padme Amidala, blinded by her passions. She did not see that someone had to rule and when they did, it had to be with an iron fist. Debate sparked backlog, which led to apathy, and then the entire system would end up breaking down.
Anakin had once told her that maybe it was better if one person ruled; one mind to make all of the decisions. She had laughed at the time, thinking it was ridiculous. Now she knew otherwise. Had the Old Republic been allowed to continue with it's personal police force of Jedi Knights, then more worlds would have fallen under the influence of the alien minorities. Those minorities saw themselves as the masters of the galaxy and to that end; they would destroy the humans along the way.
Palaptine had proved to her that humans were destined to rule the galaxy. Any race that could accept that and accept their place in the order of things was rewarded, such as in the case of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Rebel, as the Gunguns of Naboo had, then there was only extermination.
"Lady Deceptra," Sate Pestage said, bowing low. He stood in front of the door to the Emperor's private chambers. Years before, when Deceptra had come to this chamber for the first time, to lie with her master in the manner expected of the female apprentice, it had been Sate Pestage who had waited with her.
He was a man who had many duties and held many positions, it was very hard to pin down exactly what he was to the Emperor besides a very trusted aid. He had aided the Emperor in his rise to power and had remained faithful to him over the long years since. "Sate Pestage, I should have known you would be here." She gave him permission to look upon her. "It does my heart good to see an old friend."
Pestage seemed taken aback by her friendly manner. "I thank you, my lady; you warm an old man's bones. How is your son, the Emperor's Fist?"
"Seeing action in the Corellian System I would guess," she replied with a smile.
"Indeed," Pestage said. He seemed unwilling to speak any further and she picked up the trickle of a thought coming from him.
"You have something else you wish to talk about? Surely you and I are not here at the same time to see the Emperor?" she asked.
"No, my lady," he said, his eyes lowered. "I must ask you for your weapon."
"My lightsaber?" she laughed out loud. "No. I will not surrender it. I may think of you more fondly than others, Sate Pestage, but don't confuse that with stupidity. I am a Sith; we do not surrender our weapons to anyone."
"It is by order of the Emperor himself. None may enter his private chambers armed," Pestage offered. "These are difficult times."
Deceptra felt something flowing through the Force. "Something has occurred, hasn't it?"
"It is better that the Emperor himself tell you. Your travels in pursuit of the Alderaanian rebels has kept you unaware of some affairs of state." Pestage looked nervous and two Crimson Guardsmen stepped up. It was not a threat but merely a demonstration that Pestage was only following orders.
"I will not surrender my weapon," she said and waved her hand. The Guardsmen flew back and slammed hard against the wall. Pestage looked ready to soil himself. "Open the door and announce me. My master has nothing to fear from me."
Pestage nodded and moved to the door and opened it in a hurry. Deceptra stepped inside right behind him and they walked towards the throne of the Emperor. Like most times, it was turned away from them so the Emperor could look outside at the lightning storms. Many said that the Emperor received his inspirations from the lightning, while others said he used it as a medium to speak with the ancient Dark Lords.
Pestage announced her and then backed away slowly. He did not leave, however, meaning that the Palpatine had granted him leave to stay and observe. Deceptra dropped to one knee. "Your servant awaits your command, my master."
The Emperor did not turn his throne. "You were told to leave your lightsaber outside. Instead, you attack my guards. Has everyone gone mad around me? Do you all forget who is in command here?"
"My master, you trained me to never surrender…"
"Silence!" he cried out, the throne turning as the lightning flashed and the thunder roared. His face was twisted in anger and his eyes were wild with rage. "I am the Emperor of the New Order, a Dark Lord of the Sith and master of the universe! Who are you to second-guess me?"
Deceptra was shaking despite herself. The Force was alive with pure hatred. When Tarkin had destroyed Chandrilla, Deceptra had felt it in the Force, but it had not caused her any ill effects. The deaths had bolstered the Dark Side. Now, it was the Dark Side that was surrounding her with a deathly chill.
The Emperor slowly stood up. "It was I who orchestrated the collapse of the Old Republic. Not through the use of force, not through troops, but through the Dark Side! It was I who manipulated the Jedi and led them astray!" He started to walk towards her. "Yet, I am surrounded by those who wrongly believe that their will should surpass mine. From my most loyal apprentice to those military officers I place over my forces."
Deceptra did not understand what the Emperor was talking about. She had never seen him in such a state. The Force was pressing down on her and she found it difficult to breathe. She was literally being crushed by her master's ire. "Tell me, Lady Deceptra, what news do you bring me? Have you found the rebel princess that you now obsess over?"
"She is my daughter," Deceptra squeaked out.
The Emperor laughed. "Of course she is. I should have guessed that Bail would betray me so. It was only his infatuation with you that kept me from guessing his true intentions."
"She could be a powerful weapon…"
"I did not tell you to speak!" the Emperor snapped.
Deceptra bit her tongue and kept looking at the floor. For several minutes, there was only the thunder outside and she tried to reach out in the Force to her master. When they had been lovers she had done the same thing, exciting him on a level far beyond the physical. It seemed to be working because she could feel the weight lifting from the air around her.
Then she caught something else on the Force. "You feel it, don't you?" the Emperor asked. "I have been spending several days trying to isolate it, but it eludes my every probe. Perhaps if my apprentice had been here with me instead of running around the galaxy like some distraught wet-nurse." The Emperor allowed her to finally rise. "There is a great disturbance in the Dark Side, but I cannot read it. Something far away and ancient, something close and new."
The Emperor was not speaking it riddles, he was simply trying to explain what he was feeling, silently asking for her evaluation. The truth was that she had not been relying on the Force as much in recent weeks. There had been no real need and now she understood her folly. Had she been fully open to the Force, perhaps she would have sensed the tremors in the Force.
"There is much more. Grand Moff Tarkin has arrested Baron Fel for treason. The Corellian system is in full rebellion even with the Death Star in system. Tarkin has requested permission to destroy Corellia."
"Baron Fel is not a traitor!" she exclaimed. The Emperor turned and regarded her with a crooked, yellow eye. "No, he is not and I will see to it that he is set free, but I have been preoccupied."
Suddenly, the Emperor's face showed the fatigue he was feeling. The drain on the Dark Side must have been incredible. "I am relieved…"
"I am sure you are, but now is not the time for your erotic fantasies. You will leave immediately for the Corellia system and assume control of the Death Star." The Emperor saw the surprised look on her face. "I have gleaned the future and I see Tarkin betraying me."
Deceptra coldly wondered if her master was just being paranoid. Of all of the officers in the military, save for Fel and Thrawn, none seemed more loyal than Tarkin. Placing Fel under arrest was probably not wise, but it certainly did not indicate treason. "Are you sure, master?"
"Why am I being questioned?" he snapped, his fury rising again. "Go! Do my bidding!"
Deceptra stepped back and whirled, her cape masking the horror on her face as she quickly exited the throne room.
The daylight of Imperial Center burned into his eyes for it was the first time they had ever been used in such a manner. Since his birth, his eyes had been closed as he grew to adulthood inside a chamber little bigger than his own body.
He had memories of the sun and of days spent under many of them, but he wasn't sure if they were his memories. He had awakened to find himself in a dark room filled with rows of chambers similar to the one he had been in. Several of them were dark on the inside; some held skeletons. It had been a technological graveyard and he was now the living dead he mused.
He knew his name, if it could truly be called his, and he understood the Force. He felt the Force around him and he reached out with it. Every time he did it was like putting his mind into an electric current. He knew what he was supposed to do, but his body was not reacting the way he thought it should.
It finally occurred to him that he was weak and hungry. He knew now he had to seek out something to eat and a predatory instinct washed over him. He called the Force to him and jumped ten meters into the air to land on a catwalk. Someone standing there made to say something to him, but he waved his hand and tore the man's mind from his brain. Such things were simple and required no extra thought, but it was still taxing. He had to find food soon.
With food would come energy and balance to his body. When the body was in balance, then the mind would follow and then would come balance in the Force. He was not sure what was supposed to come after that; in fact, he wasn't even sure where he was supposed to go.
His eyes drifted to the skyline where the Emperor's palace was lit against the backdrop of the lightning storm. Something in the Force stirred as he watched the lightning dance.
Something familiar.
