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 23
He had some memories that he hadn't recalled previously, memories of a life before the change, before he realized exactly what he was. He remembered a father figure, but nothing maternal. Was that significant, he wondered, giving his mind something to occupy itself as he made his way to the Imperial palace?
He had eaten and his strength had returned and then, strangely enough, he had gone back to sleep. He knew that he had been in cryogenic suspension for many years, as his last memory was from more than a decade before, and during that time, he should have gotten plenty of rest. Still, he had been very tired after his meal and had gone to sleep in an alleyway.
During his slumber, he had dreamed of the world and of the galaxy as the Force continued to pour into him. Awakening, he had a better sense of his purpose and that had led him to this place that radiated so strongly in his mind.
There was a legion of stormtroopers milling about the front of the palace as well as several special operations troopers in heavy-grade armor. Civilians were being kept far back and more than once he saw a curious gawker get shot down by the guards. Full military curfew was in effect, but he didn't care. He was going inside the castle.
"Halt," a stormtrooper captain said, pointing his blaster at the man as he approached. Several other troopers marched over and kept their weapons trained on him. "This is a restricted area and you are in violation of current operational procedures. State your name and business."
The man laughed. "My name is none of your concern because you are dead."
All of the troopers went to pull their triggers at the same time, but the man called the Dark Side to him and used it as a neural whip. Not just the troopers, but also everyone in the area suddenly arched their backs in pain as their nerve endings were set on fire and muscle control became something they would never achieve again.
Various sounds and smells permeated the immediate area as each and every person lost control of the bodily functions. Some began to bleed out of their eyes and noses, others could only whimper as their hearts stopped between beats, never to move again. One by one, they started to fall, stormtrooper, common guard and government functionary.
Those not within the immediate area that saw the event started to either move away if they were smart, or move closer if they had a death wish. There was a firmly established perimeter to man's power as he was keeping it in close. With each passing second, the Force opened up more doors to him, showed him more things he thought he had forgotten.
Finally, the last man fell and not a moment too soon as repulsor carriers with more troops began to race into the court square. The man could battle them, but he had better things to do. He knew that this castle had an impressive array of defensive weapons and all he had to do was reach out with the Force and find the mind of the technician responsible for them.
He entered through the front door and was surprised to find two Crimson Guardsmen awaiting him. Each had some limited Force ability and it aided them in the way they expertly wielded their force-pikes. One made a cut for his head but he threw him back with a wave of his hand. The other was smarter, coming in low and drawing a small holdout blaster at the same time.
The man deflected the blow and dodged the blaster bolt, surprised and pleased that the martial training was one of those memories that had returned. The Guardsman with the blaster tried to twist away to get another shot in, but the long cloak he wore condemned him. The man grabbed and with Force0enhanced strength, yanked hard on it and snapped the Guardsman's neck.
He stepped over the body of the other one and made his way down a side passage to the main control room. Through the Force, he had sensed the fear of the persons inside as they watched him dispatch all of those troops via holocams. Standing before the door, he smiled and cleared his throat. "Hello?" he called. "Won't you open the door?"
A tech called from the inside, telling him to go away for he had called for more guards. "Good; it's been a long time since I've been able to kill so easily." He then rapped on the door with his knuckles, once again requesting entry. Again he was refused and despite the fun he was having, he knew it had to end. With a simple thought, he projected his will through the plasteel door and into the mind of the tech. With no more effort than he would have used to scratch his head, he had the technician kill his partner and activate the castles outer defenses.
The man was rewarded with the sounds of turbolaser fire and the staccato beat of repeating lasers as they targeted the Imperial troops on the outside. He left the technician the way he was, for he was a weak-minded fool who would serve no other purpose. Already the Dark Side was burning away the remnants of personality from the tech's brain and by the time the man had entered the turbolift and dispatched the guard on the inside, the tech was dead.
Sate Pestage never knew what hit him.
A loyal servant of the Emperor, Pestage had remained in the castle and pledged his allegiance to Palpatine the minute that martial law was declared. The Emperor had noted with some satisfaction that there was no duplicity on his aide's behalf and that he truly did wish to serve his master in this time of crisis.
Always ready to pleas, Pestage had been running back and forth between the Emperor's throne room and the communications alcove several floors down. Every few minutes, Pestage would push his way past the Crimson Guards and Dark Side Adepts to personally deliver an updated status report.
The people were, for the most part, staying out of the conflict between Tarkin and the Emperor, though some worlds chose this moment to swear fealty to the Rebel Alliance. The military was divided down the middle, however. Several of the older commanders were remaining true to Palpatine, no doubt hoping to gain Tarkin's position after his execution. Those units loyal to Tarkin had deserted their posts and were being tracked where they could.
The Emperor would soon be fighting a two-front war, but Palpatine did not care for he had a back-up plan. Pestage would bring a report and offer some bit of advice, but the Emperor would only smile. He did, after all, have another, larger Death Star being built over Endor and even if that failed, he had a multitude of secret weapons hidden away for a rainy day.
Then there were the Hapans whom he was sure he could convince to help him combat the rebellious Tarkin and accursed Alliance in exchange for something of value, say the Corporate Sector! Palpatine always had a back-up plan; one did not become a Dark Lord of the Sith without being completely prepared for every eventuality.
That was why it was so shocking to him when Pestage's head hit the wall next to him, a bewildered look upon its face. Five more Guardsmen perished before the strange man in the dark clothes stolen from a local store. The Dark Side Adepts screamed and suddenly the full effect of the Dark Side permeated the room. The man before the Emperor was powerful, able to hide his ability even from the Dark Lord.
"Who are you?" Palpatine asked, stepping past his quaking Adepts. The man stood in the doorway with a force-pike in his hand. Palpatine asked him again in the ancient tongue of the Sith.
Surprisingly, the man responded back with a slight Naboo accent. "I am the future; I did not realize it until I stood before you and our wills were joined in the Force."
"You have the mind and disposition of a Dark Lord," the Emperor said, trying to see his opponent in the shadows. As he stepped closer, the man stepped farther into the darkness. "Is that you Lord Maul?"
"Old age has made you senile," the man scoffed. "I am no apprentice."
"Then I face a rival master, then? Lord Vader? Is that so?" the Emperor asked, fishing for clues.
"I am a warrior, I am what should have been. I was created as a tool, but I realize now I am the upgrade." The man stepped forward into the light and Palpatine gasped. He was looking into a mirror; a mirror from decades before.
It was he, back before he became a senator, back when he had completed his Sith training. There was the cocky grin, the steely eyes and thick brown hair. A noble chin that helped hide the dark forces brewing inside. "You are a clone!"
"Yes, your clone, the one you created years ago to house your dying body. The odd part is you never got around to using it, did you?" The clone stepped a little closer and Palpatine stepped back. "You tried having children, but they were all deformed or lack Force ability. So you then created me using the same technology that created your clone armies in the days of the Old Republic."
Palpatine glared at the clone. "I forgot all about you! You were a pet project that is all. Why settle for my own body when I could have my scientists work on a perfect one."
The clone spread his arms wide. "This body suits me for it is much more preferable to your dying carcass."
"It doesn't matter, pup, for I am the Dark Lord! I am Darth Sideous! I am the Emperor!"
The man moved quickly and struck with the force-pike, stabbing it into the Emperor's thigh. "You are a fool who lost sight of the objective. The Dark Lords of old speak to me, do they speak to you?"
The Emperor used the Force to trip his clone and then tried to crawl away. The clone was back up and he kicked the Emperor. "Do you not feel it, worm? Do you not feel how the Force leaves you and comes to me! You are a failure, Palpatine!"
"I rule the galaxy!"
"But not in the name of the Sith! That is the bargain, that is the deal with the devil, my dear Emperor!" He kicked the fallen Palpatine again and then went back to retrieve the force-pike. "You lost your focus doddering over Darth Deceptra!" He saw the look on Palpatine's face. "Oh, yes, your mind is an open book to me. The Force guides me to destroy you, to take your place, to become a true Dark Lord."
"You know nothing!"
Palpatine tried to summon the Force lightning, the most destructive of Sith talents, but his clone, in a full rage, pummeled him with his fists. Palpatine tried to defend himself, but the Force was truly leaving his body and he was becoming vulnerable. In his mind, he heard the voices of the ancient Sith Lords he saw, in his mind, the laughing visage of Darth Maul.
Palpatine began to see where his mistakes in life had been, starting with Anakin Skywalker. Had he trained young Skywalker, then perhaps he would have been better suited at the arts of subtlety. Instead, as a student of Maul, he had been direct in his confrontations. Without a Darth Vader by his side, the Emperor had tried to rely on a woman whose only real passion was trying to keep the memory of her lover alive. Anakin had true hate burning in him; Padme had simply been sad. It took anger to be a true Sith; sadness was a tool, hate was a way of life.
And it was hate that was giving his clone the power over him. His hate at Palpatine for having created him as nothing more than a vessel to house the Emperor's conciseness, a vehicle of immortality, disgusted the clone. The clone was realizing that if he just killed the Emperor, the galaxy was his. Instantaneous godhood.
The Emperor tried one final time to bring up a defense, but it was to no avail. This was a Dark Side warrior he faced and he was simply outclassed. Politics had made Palpatine soft and now he was paying the price.
"Now, Palpatine," the clone said, his face covered with splatters of blood, "now, you will die."
"I will see you in hell," the Emperor croaked.
"I'm a clone; I don't have a soul, so I don't think you'll be seeing me anywhere."
The clone stood up and raised the force-pike up in a double-handed grip. Crying out loud an ancient Sith battle cry, he plunged it deep into Palpatine's chest, piercing his black heart and pushing it out his back.
The Emperor's body shook and gyrated and small trails of lightning ran around it as the Force completely left the corpse. The clone smiled, imagining that the Emperor's spirit was watching the whole spectacle. He called out to it. "Watch, father," he laughed as he stared down at his handiwork. "I will achieve what you dreamed of, I will bring about a true resurrection of the Sith. I have all of your accomplishments in my brain and none of the failures."
He stepped away from the body and looked at the Adepts. "You…worms…I am your new master."
The Adepts fell to their knees and clasped their hands in front of them, begging for a command, any instruction to provide a way to show their new loyalty. To them, this was the natural way of succession and often they had talked among themselves about the potential end of their former master. It was the way of the Sith to decide matters through combat; Darth Maul had realized this and he had taught it to Darth Vader. Somewhere along the way, Palpatine had lost track of the way of the Sith, becoming self-absorbed in himself and his fetishes for technology.
Here before them was a Palpatine in his dark prime, yet even the Adepts, behind their praises and benedictions, could see the slight hint of madness in the clone's eyes. Perhaps it was a simple defect in the genetic engineering, or a result of cryogenic damage; maybe Palpatine had always had a little insanity running in him.
"What shall we call you master?"
"Emperor! He is the Emperor!"
"No! He must assume the title of Darth to be a true Sith!"
"Bah! That is not always so!"
"Silence," the clone said quietly, his voice carrying weight through the Force. The Adepts were quieted immediately and the clone walked over to the throne. He could almost feel the disease in the chair that must have fallen from the Emperor's withered bones. It would have to be disinfected.
"I shall be Darth Ravage."
The Adepts clapped and shouted more praise for the decision and did so for many minutes until Ravage silenced them. "You," he said, pointing to one of the Adepts. "You will select a member of the government to speak to the people and announce that I am the Emperor's son, come to assume the throne. The Emperor will be reported assassinated by the…the…tell me, who is the enemy now?"
The Adept bowed his head. "There is a rebellion both by the populace and another one by a faction of the military."
Ravage thought about it. "Blame it on the military and then tell your prostrating brethren to bring me up to date on the state of affairs."
Ravage looked at the throne and shrugged, plopping down into the chair and turning it around to face the constant thunderstorms that were produced just outside. He put his feet up and listened as the Adepts hurried to carry out his orders. Several approached him and began telling him of their area of expertise.
Of course, he would have to kill them once he had an apprentice, but for now, he would let them have a life of servitude to him.
