Chapter 9
"He's in the Archives."
Kain glanced up from tuning his weapon. "Who?"
Palpatine gave a feral grin. "Who else? Skywalker."
"Which one?"
"The elder."
Kain feigned interest, but in truth he could have cared less about Vader. The man was an annoyance to be disposed of at convenience. As far as he was concerned, the Emperor could have his way with him.
Luke, though… oh, the thought of that upstart farm boy who had the nerve to call himself Jedi made his juices boil. He clenched his robotic hand, fury coursing through his veins. He would have his vengeance yet. He would make young Skywalker suffer, sink to the very depths of agony until he pleaded for the mercy of death…
"Go to the Archives, Lord Kain," Palpatine ordered. "Engage Vader in battle."
Kain twisted his lips in a snarl. His master would deny him his revenge and send him after that scum of a traitor to the Sith Order?
"Go, my apprentice," Palpatine repeated. "I'll see to young Skywalker."
Kain straightened, looking his master in the eye. "No."
Palpatine cocked an eyebrow, amused. "No?"
"I will not fight Vader," Kain hissed. "I will not allow you to fight the battle that is rightfully mine to wage."
The Emperor laughed mirthlessly. "So the apprentice will think to order the master around, never thinking that there might be a purpose, an ultimate goal, to his superior's orders."
He growled wordlessly under his master's mocking words.
"Use the gray matter in your dense skull, young one," Palpatine went on. "You want revenge? To make Skywalker suffer? What could wound him more deeply than to watch his father die?"
That cleared the fury from his mind like a hand brushing away cobwebs. This was it – the ultimate vengeance. The terrible legacy of bloodshed between the Jedi and the Fett family would come full circle. As his childhood self had looked on in terror as an emotionless Jedi Master had brutally murdered his father, so would Skywalker witness the destruction of his father at the hands of Kain. There could be no sweeter revenge than that.
He bowed low and swept out, eager to begin.
Break…
Palpatine watched Darth Kain depart, silently thoughtful. The former hunter was an excellent warrior, there was no denying that. But if he didn't learn to manage his emotions better, they would be his undoing.
He wondered if he'd made an error in recruiting the cloned mercenary to the Sith cause. Kain had the rage to feed the dark side, yes, but he hadn't the discipline to control it. And as was always the danger with the dark side, there was always the possibility that the power of the Force was driving him insane. That theory was made all the more probable by the fact that he was not a natural Force-sensitive, and his body was unused to the power of the Force.
Oh well. He'd keep Kain around awhile longer. He had his uses. But once Luke was converted…
He smiled wickedly and turned to the nearest door, which had just been kicked open by a reckless intruder.
Break…
Luke reached the end of the corridor without further incident, relieved to find the hall terminated in nothing more threatening than a lift. He entered and keyed it to go to the third level.
/I sure hope Father's all right/ he thought. Knowing all the traps and dangers this place presented wasn't a foolproof safeguard against becoming ensnared by them. And there were still the forces of Kain and Palpatine to reckon with.
The lift doors opened, revealing a set of elaborately carved ebony doors. A dark force seemed to pulse behind those doors, as if the chamber behind them contained the black heart of the Sith Order. This had to be the doorway to the Archives, he realized, and he reached for the old-fashioned iron handles, but the door wouldn't budge. Experimentally he kicked the doors… and to his surprise they popped open immediately.
The chamber he'd entered was huge, easily the size of any of the hangars on the first Death Star. The marble walls were the deep dull red of blood, streaked with yellow like jags of lightning. The black steel floor reflected a high vaulted ceiling upon which the swirls and fires of the cosmos had been painted in all their splendor. Instead of glow rods or other electronic light sources, what appeared to be phosphorescent amber gemstones glowed in brackets along the walls. Life-sized statues of former Sith Lords, all crafted of aged bronze, lined the walls. At the end of the chamber, behind a black stone throne, reared a massive statue of a mythical winged dragon, carved from some black stone that winked and shimmered with a thousand colored lights, as if it had been hewn from stars.
/This isn't the Archives/ he thought.
"Welcome, young Skywalker," a deep, hoarse, thoroughly malevolent voice bade. "I have been expecting you."
Emperor Palpatine stepped out of the shadows, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. His ghostly-pale face, withered and hollowed by age and the parasitic forces of darkness, was twisted in a hideous parody of a smile. He stopped in the center of the room and gazed at Luke like a hungry acklay eyeing a hapless orray.
The doors behind Luke slammed shut with a foreboding boom.
"You never thought the Sith could live amidst beauty, did you?" the Emperor went on, sweeping his hand in an all-encompassing gesture. "A savage beauty, but beauty nonetheless. Many artists and architects came to Byss and contributed to these chambers. And all were well-rewarded for their work with a painless death."
"That's interesting, but I didn't come here to sightsee," Luke replied, his hand on his saber.
"Ah, yes," the Emperor said condescendingly. "You and your father have come on a noble mission." The word "noble" was said with a mocking sneer. "To destroy our fortress. Jedi call their actions noble, while the rest of the galaxy calls them insane."
"If the worst you can do is insult the Jedi Order, then Qui-gon overestimated you."
Palpatine laughed coldly. "Oh no, my young Skywalker. It is you who have underestimated me." He gestured behind Luke. "Look, young Skywalker."
He hesitated, wondering if he was about to fall for the oldest trick in the book.
"I assure you that this is no trap," Palpatine said. "Don't you trust me?"
"I trust you about as far as I can throw a bantha," Luke replied.
The Emperor's grin widened. "You're certainly nobody's fool, Skywalker. You may look behind you if you wish, but I certainly won't force you to."
His curiosity got the better of him, and he turned. A glossy, dark bronze statue glowered down at him, the light of the gems glittering across the aged metal – Darth Vader, in full armor, in all his fearsome majesty.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Palpatine inquired, stepping up beside Luke to admire the statue. "It's somewhat inaccurate – Vader no longer wears most of the armor. But I like to keep it around as a reminder of my conquest of the Order… and the corruption of their Chosen One."
At one time the image of Vader would have deeply frightened Luke. But not now. Now he only pitied the man. The Vader represented by this statue had been little more than an indentured servant, a slave to the dark side, used and manipulated by the Emperor. He couldn't fear or hate him, even knowing that he was responsible for so much bloodshed. After all, how much of that bloodshed had been his own decision… and how much had been ordered by his master?
"I look forward to adding your image at his side, you know," Palpatine said easily. "Like father, like son, after all."
"I won't turn," Luke said firmly. "Your overconfidence is your weakness."
"Your faith in your friends is yours," the Emperor hissed, and he passed a hand over a fixed point on the floor.
The entire wall seemed to wash out as a holographic image burst to life. An image of the Death Star, its unfinished lower half gaping open like an infected wound, dominated the picture. Around the space-bound leviathan swarmed Rebel and Imperial ships – and there were far too many of the latter for Luke's comfort.
"Your 'surprise' attack on my battle station," he gloated. "You see, young Skywalker, it was I who let the Bothan Spynet know of the second Death Star's existence. It was I who let them believe that Kain and I would be aboard it, perfect targets for destruction. And they have absolutely no idea that they are flying directly into the jaws of a trap… right into the arms of the Imperial Armada."
Luke stared in horror at the unfolding battle. It seemed that the entire Imperial Starfleet was surrounding the Death Star, hemming in the Rebels from all sides, blocking off escape.
"And as a special surprise…" The Emperor smiled his most malicious smile yet.
As if on cue a slender burst of green fire lanced from the Death Star, obliterating a medical cruiser.
/It's operational/
Yes, Skywalker," Palpatine cackled. "My Death Star may be incomplete, but its weapon systems are quite functional."
Luke gave the Emperor an incredulous look, then turned back to the scene of the battle.
"Your Alliance is doomed," he went on, "and your friends on the forest moon will not survive. They are no match for the legion of my best men that are stationed there, awaiting their attempt to deactivate the energy shield. The Rebellion has failed, Skywalker. You have failed."
A hatred unlike anything Luke had ever known before boiled within him, burning and building like a long-dormant volcano rumbling to life. He couldn't tear his gaze from the violent battle, couldn't wrench himself free of the white-hot fury that threatened to reduce his reasoning to ash.
"Yes," breathed Palpatine. "Yes. With every passing moment you take one more step in your father's footsteps. With every second you make yourself more my servant."
Luke struggled to gain control of his anger, but it refused to relinquish its hold. He wanted to kill the Emperor with a passion beyond reasoning… he wanted to strike out at the malignant heart of the organization that was killing his friends… even if it meant falling to the dark side…
/No! I won't resort to that! I won't betray the Jedi/
He ripped his weapon from his belt and flung it away as if it were tainted.
Palpatine chuckled. "I almost had you there, Skywalker," he taunted.
"I'll never join you," Luke insisted. "You'll have to kill me."
"Oh, that won't be necessary." He gestured to the other wall, which slid aside to reveal a second chamber, one identical in size to the throne room but with far different contents.
The anger bled out of Luke instantly, replaced by cold damp fear. He charged forward, but a wall of deadly, transparent energy blocked the way.
The Emperor practically roared with laughter.
/Father/ Luke screamed.
Break…
Vader pushed open the doors leading to the Archives, a huge chamber that glittered with a thousand stars as light reflected off of the many Holocrons stored here. Three of the walls bore shelf after shelf groaning under the weight of crystals of every shape and size – some the size of a man's thumbnail, others as large as melons. Most glistened in various shades of red – pale red, berry red, blood red, fire-red, and every other shade imaginable – but here and there gleamed a Holocron crafted from yellow, green, or blue crystal. A few of the lower shelves carried more conventional information sources, such as books and datapads, but these were generally few and far between. The fourth wall contained no shelves but was covered with scrawled messages, as if a team of deranged scientists had had a field day scribbling their demented formulas and theories. A single table occupied the center of the chamber, a few crystals sitting atop it, no doubt in the process of having data encrypted into them. The entire room pulsed with a cold energy that seeped into his very core.
Luke was nowhere in sight.
Concerned, Vader entered the room. He prayed Luke had come to no harm. Perhaps he had gotten himself lost, or perhaps he had been here already and left to search for his father…
A blast of sheer darkness hit him from behind, and he spun to face this new threat. What he saw would haunt him forever.
The being that stood in the doorway bore Luke's face, true. And his Force signature resembled Luke's. But this Luke was robed and hooded in jet-black, black battle-armor gleaming underneath. A black-hilted lightsaber, almost identical to the one Vader had wielded years ago, dangled from one hip. The being stepped closer and raised his head to stare directly into Vader's eyes.
An icy hand seemed to close around his heart. His son's eyes were no longer blue, but a bright burning orange like pools of flame.
"Father," Luke said in a soft, oddly sinister voice. "Don't be afraid. What you see has yet to happen. You won't live to see it."
Vader shook his head. "It can't be. Luke would never join the dark side."
The illusionary Luke smiled – but it was a cold, unnatural smile. "Why not? All my life I've wanted to be like my father. Why wouldn't I choose to idolize him further by following in his footsteps… all his footsteps?"
"The Luke I know has had his brushes with the dark side," Vader countered. "On Dagobah, on Bespin… and both times he has emerged more strongly bound to the light than ever. I don't know what you seek to do by making a mockery of my son, but stop now."
The dark Luke's eyes blazed brighter. "Why would I mock my destiny, Father? The Jedi Order is extinct. Its Codes are senseless and outdated. It is time for the Jedi to accept that they have become obsolete, to step aside and stop fighting the inevitable. The Sith are the true masters. And I will elect to throw my lot in with them. You can do nothing to stop that."
The false Luke vanished.
Behind Vader, a lightsaber ignited.
Without conscious thought Vader activated Qui-gon's saber, swinging it upward and behind his back to shield himself from the blow Kain dealt. The Sith growled in rage and struck again, and this time Vader met him face-on, his emerald blade crackling against the shaft of ruby fire Kain wielded. Amber sparks rained onto the floor, alighted on Kain's sable cloak and Vader's gray robes, reflected in a thousand fires from the Holocrons that seemed to watch like so many blood-red eyes.
For a time they seemed evenly matched – the raw fury of Kain against the calm power of Vader, the former's savage angry blows against the latter's calculated parries. The tide of the battle shifted back and forth almost imperceptibly, with first Kain gaining an upper hand, then Vader.
Then Kain sprang like a pouncing nexu, one boot catching Vader in the jaw and knocking him backward. He slammed into the shelves, and Holocrons came crashing down all around him, smashing into scarlet shards on the steel floor. He scrambled to his feet just as Kain's saber plunged hilt-deep into the wall a few centimeters from where he'd been standing minutes ago.
Yanking his weapon free, Kain charged again. This time Vader went airborne, landing on the other side of the heavy table. Rather than go around or over the table to face his foe, however, the Sith simply raised it with the Force and hurled it at Vader. He hit the floor, and the table slammed into the shelves, causing more gems to rain down and shatter.
/Maybe I won't need Luke's help to destroy the Archives/ Vader thought amusedly. /Maybe Kain and I can handle it ourselves./
Kain and Vader circled warily like fighting massifs, their sabers held ready, never taking their eyes off each other. The broken Holocrons at their feet glistened like so many drops of blood in the light of their energy swords.
"Surrender yourself, Vader," rasped Kain, "and I may only cripple you."
"Destroying me will accomplish nothing," Vader replied. "It will only worsen the damage." He gestured to the destroyed Holocrons.
"Do you honestly think I care about the Sith history, fool?" snarled Kain. "About those long-dead warriors and their failed attempts to take control, their glorious dreams without the guts to fulfill them, their apprentices that abandoned the Order, their suicide missions that served only to reveal their ultimate stupidity? No, Vader. The only thing that matters is the present, the here and now, and the only Sith worth remembering are the ones that finally gained power over the galaxy and slew the Jedi." He nodded in his direction. "The death of a traitor will bring more glory to the Sith Order than those represented in this chamber could ever accomplish." He lunged.
Vader parried a succession of blows, keeping himself on the defensive. Hopefully Luke would come in soon, and they could take Kain together. He wasn't sure he could defeat him alone…
With a start he noticed that the graffiti-covered wall had opened up, giving the duelists a view of the throne room. Memories flooded his mind of countless missions assigned to him in that chamber, of kneeling in submission as the Emperor ordered him to commit some atrocity or other, of brutal training exercises conducted there…
Luke stared at him from in that chamber, the gloating face of the Emperor just behind him. His first instinct was to run to him, but a laser wall separated them, promising instant death if either of them sought to breach that transparent barrier.
/Father/ came Luke's cry.
/Luke/
Kain laughed wickedly and slashed again. The Siths' intention hit with a sickening jolt – Palpatine would have Kain kill him before his son's eyes, driving Luke to the dark side. And there was nothing Vader could do to stop that plan from being carried out.
/Luke/ he pleaded/no matter what happens, be strong. Better to die a Jedi than to live a servant of darkness./
There was no reply from Luke. He could only pray his message had gotten through… and struggle to defend himself from Kain's mad wrath.