E M P I R E
Broken…shattered…
This is the state the galaxy is in after the Jedi Rebellion. However, there is
hope. A New Order, led by the recently proclaimed Emperor Palpatine, has come to
bring justice and law to the crumbling shambles of the old republic.
Unfortunately, there are many radicals that must be defeated, those who
cling on to ancient governments and arcane traditions. If they are not eradicated,
the galaxy could possibly fall into the chaos it was once in those many years ago.
Fortunately for the Galactic Empire, they have a limitless supply of obedient
soldiers, supplied by the cloners on the planet Kamino. But all is not as it seems, and
a small group of rebels descend onto Kamino, their minds thinking no thoughts but
that of chaos…
There was something there.
There had to be.
All of Jered's life he had been told to obey the Empire, that the New Order was the solution to everything. But he was a smart boy, as his parents had always told him. He had always had high marks in his New Order Education classes as a child, remembering all of the names, locations and events that had led up to the creation of the Empire.
At least, those they told.
He wasn't foolish enough to believe all the propaganda. There had to be more to the Empire. Why did it come into being? And there was the main problem. Why would a system of government, the Old Republic, that had been working for millennia suddenly crumble?
He shook his head vigorously. It was not his mission to think. It was his mission to act. His mission to make things right again. He could do that, right?
The rain fell heavily from the grey skies, and a voice called his name.
"Jered! What the hell are you doing? If we're going to do this, we need to hurry up, damnit! Our spies suggest that--"
"I know. For god's sake you've already told me a hundred times, maybe more. We have time."
In only a few minutes an Imperial ship would fly in to check on the cloning progress and to make sure things are going smoothly. The docking bays would open, and things would then go straight to hell.
Well, he hoped they would.
--
The rain splashed onto the windows, each drop with their own distinctive little thud.
He had always liked rain. Ever since he had first, as a newly harvested clone, heard the pleasant and beautiful sound of water pounding against the roof, he had wondered what caused it. It had to be something amazing…something beautiful.
Something like God. Or a god. Or something.
He, RK-279, was lost in the beautiful pounding of the rain. Only eight years old, with the body of someone in his mid-teens. He had always yearned to see other real humans, other real men.
Was he real?
He had often wondered, feeling his heartbeat pulsate through him, breathing in and out, if he had a soul. That little odd thing humans came up with that made you a real being.
Ah. It was always best not to think too much, though. As all the clones said (including him for some odd reason), it's best to think nothing at all than get treasonous ideas. After all, the Empire and its glorious civilization needed him to carry on its beauty.
Its beauty. He didn't understand it, or know what it was, but it was there. Like raindrops. Like God.
A thunderous noise pierced the RK-279's calm, bringing his genetically-engineered body to full alert. He grabbed his helmet and his blaster rifle. If there was an attack, his brothers would need all the help they could possibly get…
---
The smoke and fire burned and heated his body, not fatally, but irritably, like a fierce dog warning him not to come closer. He ignored its call, walking through the flame in the (hopefully) fireproof suit he had forged. His dark silhouette, masked by the smoke, made him look like a terrifying wraith of legend, his sword on his back and his blaster on his side.
There. A speck of white. He fired insanely, blasting at anything that could possibly be a clone. There was a muffled scream of horror, a gagging noise and the alarm began to sound.
Shit.
His cohorts had tripped the alarm while entering behind him. He cursed again, reloading his blaster, and began to sprint through the hallways, desperately searching for an exit. To the generator, to home. To any world other than this…
---
Several loud shots scorched the cool air in the cloning installation, startling RK slightly. He pulled out his blaster pistol, only to see a lightning-fast form of a human sprint past him, bolts of energy flying by. He took after him.
---
The Imperial cloning facility on Kamino is (or rather was) built with the cold and mechanical thinking of the Empire. In the middle of the base was a fusion core in a central, circular room. This was surrounded by many hallways and chambers, including a barracks, a clone harvester and a docking bay.
All of it was about to go to hell.
---
Jered paused. He had arrived.
The mechanical hum of machinery filled the walls of the dimly lit chamber, its white walls showing everlasting cruelty. He paused, contemplating the machine that was the Empire. Governments ran on people. Foolish people would volunteer, and the government would burn them. Fry them for energy, fusing them for power to keep running their utterly pointless tasks. This was how the Republic died, although it was more noble than the Empire's ways. They just cloned souls to throw into the fire, to burn to a crisp while the god damned nobles sat at their fires, the clones and volunteers and citizens dying, all to keep the machine running.
"Hell no," he muttered to no one in particular. "I'll kill you all before you can take any more families."
The shrill beeping noise of a mine being placed broke the hum, startling the quiet.
No more.
A bolt of fire seared the air, grazing Jered's shoulder. He flew to the cover of a large fuel crate, cursing this new arrival.
"For the Empire!" the clone roared, unleashing another round of blasts, this time aimed at the crate. It burst into flames as Jered jumped out of the way. He slipped his blaster out of its holster, taking cover behind the large cylindrical fuel core.
"Please comply with the Codes and Procedures of the Empire," RK-279 stated in a monotonous voice. "You have the right to surrender. If you are to surrender, you will be guaranteed a fair trial under Imperial Law. If…put the gun down."
Jered was, in a shaking hand, holding up a rifle, fire in his eyes. "You're a killing machine," he snarled. "You killed my father. You killed my mother." He shook his head, chuckling. "Do…does your kind even spare children?"
The clone grabbed the blaster, firing at the rebel, but he had already squeezed the trigger. Their screams melded into one horrific shriek of terror, with the pain, and the realization that the enemy was a person.
They both collapsed, blood running out of their mouths, painting the floor a deep crimson. Jered looked into the face of the enemy, the face of a boy, and the boy looked back. They were children. Children in a battle that no one should fight. That was started long ago and should've been over by then. But it wasn't, and the children imitated their fathers and got themselves killed.
Raindrops.
They fell onto the roof in waves of water, each making a distinct and beautiful noise. Rain…
And the mine activated.
---
It was a terrible loss, really.
A crooked, bent over figure stared out onto the skylines of Coruscant, contemplating.
Kamino had been important. Extremely so. However, they had never thought much of it. Not even the Emperor. It was like a gear in a machine, a small one. You pay no attention to it, but without it the whole thing wouldn't work.
But it was a minor setback. The number of Imperial planets had doubled in the last year. There would be many foolish enough, naïve enough, to die for a cause they could not truly comprehend. And there always would be.
His cold thoughts were interrupted by a deep, chilling voice.
"Master."
The figure in black, cybernetic and horrific, fell to his knees.
"I have news for you."
"Rise, Lord Vader."
"We have a captive. The former senator Leia Organa is ours to interrogate."
"Thank you, my apprentice. Return to your duties."
"Yes, Master."
The Emperor turned to the window, watching the beautiful city that was his. A large ship rose out of the docking bay, and an unnatural grin formed on his face. A snicker. And he began to laugh, a cold, mirthless laugh that stung into the soul. A laugh of death, a laugh of cruelty, and a laugh…of war.