The Final Revelation
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. This is merely a fanfiction. I gain no income from this story.
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Pooja was not feeling confident with this latest meeting. Nor indeed was Starkiller who was pacing the communications room, his fists clenching and unclenching. Wedge stood at attention at her other side.
The Rogue Shadow's holocommunicator display flickered and the images of Mon Mothma, Bail Organa and Garm Bel Iblis sprouted from the floor. "We were terribly sorry to hear about the loss of General Kota," Bail muttered before the others could speak. "He was a good friend, and a good man."
Starkiller stopped his pacing and locked eyes with the Alderaanian senator. "Yes. He was."
"His death was a major blow to the Alliance," Mon Mothma interjected. "Without the hope of the Jedi as a symbol, I fear less systems will rally to our cause. Some may defect to the Empire."
"You still have Starkiller," Pooja shot back.
"With all due respect," Bel Iblis replied, "if your reports from Mustafar were accurate, Starkiller is no longer in tune with the Force. That means we're down two Jedi now!"
Starkiller's fingers were curled into fists. He could feel his nails cutting into his skin. "I may not be able to feel the Force, but you can rest assured I will do everything in my power to help the Rebellion -."
Bel Iblis cut him off. "Is that what you've been doing the past few weeks? Gallivanting halfway across the galaxy and for what? To follow visions and dreams about a dead Jedi!"
"Anakin Skywalker is not dead." Starkiller spat the words with disgust. "He is -."
This time it was Bail that cut him off and Starkiller was surprised to see a look of sudden fear in his eyes. "This bickering is pointless. Right now the Emperor is marshalling his forces around the Death Star. That remains our top priority."
"We have a new priority," Starkiller muttered. "The new Mandalorian faction … at least one Sith Lord stands with them. They're going to try to find Mortis."
Mon Mothma raised an eyebrow. "Mortis? I thought that planet was just a legend …"
"I can assure you it's real!"
Mon Mothma called up a keypad. "Transmit the coordinates. We'll send a recon team in."
Starkiller exchanged a glance with Pooja, before clearing his throat and turning back to the Rebel leaders "It's … location is unknown …"
Mothma's finger hovered over the keypad. Her frown was unmistakable. "Ah. I see."
"I'll find it!" Starkiller shot back. "I'll get those coordinates! In the meantime we need the Rebellion to marshal its full forces. We have to secure the planet before Plagueis gets there!"
Bel Iblis couldn't stop himself from chuckling. He turned to his two compatriots and gestured at Starkiller with ridicule. "First visions of Anakin Skywalker. Now a hunt for a planet that he's not even sure exists. Are we basing our military actions on dreams and speculations now?"
Starkiller could feel his fury bursting. He struggled to maintain his composure as he looked Bail Organa square in the face. "Senator Organa, you know I would never ask this if I wasn't absolutely sure."
Pooja spoke up in his defense. "Starkiller saved all of your lives on the Death Star! You all owe him some measure of trust."
"The original Starkiller saved us," Bel Iblis retorted.
Starkiller felt like punching a hole in the wall. "If Plagueis reaches Mortis, the Death Star will pale in comparison to the destruction that will be unleashed on the galaxy! We need your fleets!"
"I agree with Garm," Mon Mothma stated. "Our decisions need to be based on fact and evidence, not on dreams and rumors." She typed in the keypad. "We're grounding The Rogue Shadow for now. Return to the Rebel Fleet. We will discuss our next course of action then."
Bail gave Starkiller a sorrowful look. "Until then, may the Force be with you."
And the holoimage winked out.
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Starkiller really did punch a wall. He gave vent to his frustration and slid down on onto the floor. Garm was right. What use was he now? His connection to the Force was severed. Kota was dead – and it was all his fault. He held his head in his hands and broke down.
"Are you crying?"
Starkiller looked up to see Pooja standing over him, arms folded. He looked away. "I feel so useless. Zarbina believes I'm the original Starkiller … but if that were the case, we wouldn't be in this mess. The original Starkiller would never have allowed his connection to the Force to be cut. "
Pooja sat down next to him and stared at the wall. "You're a clone living in his shadow. I get it."
Starkiller raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
She shrugged. "Imaging growing up in the shadow of Padme Amidala. Everyone expects great things from her niece. She was queen at fourteen. At that age, I was still in primary school, held back a year for 'behavioral issues' and used to sneak out with my friends. My dad busted us once for trying death sticks."
"Those things are dangerous, you know!"
Pooja smirked. "Yeah. I know. Kinda the whole point of doing it. It's called puberty. In any event, my Dad sent me away to a private school on the other side of the planet. Told me Aunt Padme was watching down from heaven disappointed in me. The disappointment was his. He thought I would be Queen at age twelve!"
"So what happened?"
"I came back, the prim and proper daughter he wanted. I went into politics, just like Aunt Padme. I always looked up to her, I wanted to follow in her footsteps in some way. I wanted to make a difference the way she did, but not in politics."
"Is there a point to all of this?"
She playfully punched him in the arm. "The point is that I looked up to Aunt Padme. Everyone had huge expectations for me because I was her niece. I wanted to be like her, but not follow in her exact path. I had my own dreams, but I decided to follow everyone's expectations." She turned and stared Starkiller right in the eyes. "Whether you're only a clone or the real Galen Marek – it doesn't matter. That was your old life. You're a different person now. And you don't have to follow in the footsteps of that man. He served as a Jedi. You can be of assistance in other ways." She stood up and offered her hand. He took it. "Besides … we still have to save Juno, after all."
"But what if it's not enough?"
"Damn it, Galen! I'm sick of your moping! You screwed up, big deal! We all did!"
"It was more than a screw-up. Kota is dead because of me!"
Pooja refused his answer. "Kota is dead because he chose to fight for you! He knew the risks, we all did! Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, get back on the saddle and help us take down Plageuis and the Sith!"
"But -."
"No! No buts! You may not see it, but I do! You have the same spirit of Galen Marek. Whether a clone or not, you share his fighting spirit! Whether your Force abilities were the result of genetic tampering or not, you share his fire! Now show it to us!"
Starkiller was struck. "Genetic tampering … Pooja, you're a genius!"
"Yes, I know. But … erm … why exactly am I a genius?"
Starkiller was pacing again, but this time it was with pure excitement. "Don't you see! I'm a Clone!"
"And …?"
"In order to clone a Jedi, the Kaminoans would have had to tamper with the midichlorians! Of course – they would have had to engineer them! The same as Plagueis is doing with his cloning facilities."
Pooja's mouth opened in realization. "So maybe … maybe Kamino has an answer … maybe they have a way to restore your Force abilities!" Her face fell. "But Kamino's cloning facility is under Imperial control. And … you suffered immensely there. Do you really want to go back?"
Starkiller stared through a viewscreen at the stars beyond. "For me, that's where this all began. I have to face my past in order to confront my future."
Pooja nodded. "I'll let Wedge and Kaden know to set the coordinates. But … Senator Mothma ordered us to return to the Rebel Fleet. We'd be violating a direct order."
Starkiller smirked. "So … the girl who snuck out from school to try death sticks is worried about violating orders?"
"Good point. I'll let them know right away."
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Lightning arced down from the dark skies of the ocean planet, and waves lapped against the supports of the Kamino cloning facility.
"Keep the stealth systems on," Starkiller told Wedge in the cockpit. "We don't want the Imperials to pick up the ship's ID signature."
Wedge looked back at him from the pilot's seat as PROXY and Kaden took landing measurements. "Won't the Empire recognize you? They won't exactly give an escaped clone who tore through an entire regiment direct access to their facilities, will they?"
Starkiller smirked. "Vader kept myself and the Dark Apprentice secret. Just like he tried to conceal the real Galen's existence. The only ones who know of our existence are the Kaminoans and they don't know the Dark Apprentice – or Vader – went rogue to join Plagueis. They're still taking orders from Vader as though it's business as usual. And if the Dark Apprentice were to arrive and need access to secret files – on Vader's orders - the cloners would be all too obliged."
"Oh I get it," Kaden remarked behind them. "You'll pretend to be the evil clone!"
"That's right. With any luck, I'll be in and out before you can say 'bantha'."
Wedge sighed. "It's never that easy."
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The Rogue Shadow's cloaking systems went into effect, blinding the Imperial radar scanners to its approach. The ship's stealth systems were state-of-the-art, customized for the original Galen for his secret missions for Vader. The Dark Lord had wanted Galen's existence to be kept secret, even from the Empire and so he had had the ship's systems designed to bypass even the tightest Imperial security.
The Shadow approached a landing platform. Starkiller leapt from the landing ramp onto a circular platform below. He gave a thumbs up to the cockpit and The Shadow took off to the skies.
Starkiller had changed his clothing. They had had some black uniforms stored away in the ship's compartment, complete with a black hooded cape. Starkiller drew the black hood over his head, protecting him from the torrent of rain as he approached a sterile, white building. The door slid open and Starkiller stepped into a sanitized white hallway.
"Halt!" Two stormtroopers approached him. "We have no record of visitors today. State your business and identity." Starkiller glared at the two blaster rifles pointed at his chest. He threw back his hood and was prepared to give a cockamamie story when a voice rang out from the darkness.
"Stop! Place your rifles away at once! Our guest is expected!" A tall, male Kaminoan was gracefully sauntering up to them.
"I'm expected?" Starkiller was confused, but immediately hid his surprise. "Of course. Lord Vader has me on a special assignment. If you'll excuse me …" He brushed past the two stormtroopers and joined the Kaminoan, who waved for him to follow in his wake.
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Starkiller played along with the Kaminoan, who had now led him deep into the cloning facilities. They walked along a ramp overlooking the facility. Hundreds of thousands of tubes were filled with clones in various stages of gestation.
"So … you were expecting me?" Starkiller spoke in a measured tone, trying to find out as much as he could without giving himself away.
"Of course. We had distinct orders to give you full access to the cloning archives."
Starkiller chose his words carefully. "I – er, Lord Vader – is most interested in your research on midichlorians. How they were used to ensure successful clones would grow up to have a connection to the Force."
"All data will be yours to inspect." The Kaminoan hummed pleasantly as they reached an elevator. The door slid open and the Kaminoan gestured kindly. "Please … the archives are below on level 10. You will be free to access them at your leisure."
Starkiller nodded and bowed as he entered the elevator alone. He hit the button for Level 10 and the doors slid shut.
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The lower levels of the Kamino Cloning Facility were a sharp contrast to the medically sterile, white hallways of the upper levels. Down here, everything was dark. Black walls.
Starkiller found himself in a circular room. He remembered his early days here, after awakening. Vader would force him to face combat droids. And then … his final test …
"You must destroy what he loved."
He couldn't bring himself to do it. He fled that day, and that decision had sent him on a galaxy-spanning quest that had led him, finally, back here.
As he was lost in his ruminations, a gravelly voice rang out from the darkness. "Memories can be a painful blade. Piercing the marrow, even to the very core of our being."
Starkiller spun around at the voice that spoke with him. His eyes widened. "YOU!"
A hooded figure approached, leaning on a black and twisted cane. "Welcome Young Starkiller. I have been expecting you."
Emperor Palpatine stepped into the dim light, his twisted face morphed into an expression of glee under his hood.
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For the first time in his life, Starkiller felt true and utter helplessness. The same immense, demonic Force energies that emanated from Plagueis also emanated from the Emperor. He remembered the original Galen's memories on the Death Star. Darth Sidious was the most powerful Force user he had ever encountered; his feeble appearance belied the true seething cosmic energies broiling within. And without his connection to the Force, Starkiller was completely at his mercy.
"I can sense your fear," the Emperor cooed. "It drips off of you in waves. But for the time being, you have no cause for concern. I will not harm you at this time."
Starkiller was not comforted by those words. He remained wary, his eyes darting to the exit. If I have to make a quick dash … but damn, he'd have me before I even reached halfway across the room! It was a mistake coming here!
Darth Sidious continued speaking. "And I also sense great despair. Disappointment. And shame. Rahm Kota is dead, I take it? And you feel the grief and immense guilt of his loss."
Without any connection to the Force, Starkiller's mind was an open book to the Emperor.
"Even now, you are thinking of ways to escape, to elude me. Rest assured, if I had wanted you dead, you would already be so."
"You ordered Vader to kill Galen Marek! And then you killed him on the Death Star."
"But not you. Galen Marek made his final choice. But as for you, your destiny still hangs in the balance. You walk the tight line between the light and dark, swaying, every so subtly, one way or the other. And now that Lord Vader has betrayed me for my old master, I find myself in need of a new apprentice …"
" … then you'll just have to kill me!" Starkiller spat. "I'd rather die than ever serve the Dark Side again!"
"Indeed? Yet Starkiller's loyalties have proven to be quite … flexible … in the past. As have yours."
"Galen turned away from you and Vader."
Palpatine flashed a rotten grin. "And what of you? You wear his face, share his memories … but the similarities need not go beyond that. You can be your own person. Make your own destiny. One that is not tied to a dead man."
"And what makes you so sure he's dead?" Starkiller asked. "Perhaps Galen Marek survived. Perhaps Vader brought him here …" He remembered Zarbina's words to him the other night. "Perhaps I am the original Galen Marek!"
The smile never left the Emperor's face. "I see you have been listening to those who would fill your mind with delusions of grandeur."
Starkiller remained resolute. "Say what you will. But his spirit lives on!"
"Indeed." Palpatine turned and began shuffling towards a door. "Come, walk with me. There are many things to show you."
"I'm going nowhere with you!"
Palpatine turned over his shoulder. "Then you may stay here and rot. But don't you want to know the true fate of the original Starkiller? Do you not want to know whether he survived the Death Star?"
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Starkiller trailed behind the Emperor. He had no choice now. He was powerless to resist the Sith Lord's powers and if he tried to run, he'd be broken in an instant.
Besides … Palpatine's offer of knowledge was too tempting. He had to know. He had to know whether the real Starkiller survived … and whether he was him.
The Emperor motioned to a turbolift. "Where are we going?" Starkiller asked as he followed him in.
"A level below. Where Lord Vader kept the original Starkiller's body."
The doors to the turbolift closed and Starkiller's anticipation grew.
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When the doors finally reopened, Starkiller found himself in an immense laboratory. Equipment, cutting machines, test tubes littered the room. The walls, surrounding him on four sides, were covered in enormous telescreens. Vader had sat here, watching each clone's progress from these screens, making recordings.
Palpatine pointed a twisted finger at the far side of this cathedral of pain. A bacta tank. Starkiller staggered over to it, mesmerized by it. Memories. Memories of floating in there. Surgical tools cutting. Nerves being replaced and healed.
The Sith Lord was now behind him, practically breathing down his neck. "This is where Vader stored Starkiller's body after retrieving it from the Death Star."
"The tank is empty. I don't understand." He turned to the Emperor. "Where is his body?"
"Lord Vader has lied to you yet again. And again, you continue to fall for his lies."
"Either tell me or kill me! I'm sick of these games!"
Palpatine tapped his cane on the floor. "He lied when he told you that there were two successful clones. Lord Vader was only able to ever successfully clone Starkiller once."
Blood pounded in Starkiller's ears. "Then … then Zarbina is right …"
"The original Starkiller lives. His mind was too damaged to remember much of his past, and Vader convinced him that he was a clone. Convinced him that his memories were nothing more than the memories of a dead man. But the actions he took in restoring Starkiller's body resulted in a Force Bond between them, allowing Starkiller full access into Vader's mind."
Tears flooded Starkiller's eyes. "Then it's true … it's me … By the Force, Zarbina was right! I'm the original Starkiller!"
The Emperor's cackle echoed throughout the chamber. "My boy, did I ever say that?"
That sinking feeling was returning. A new dread was filling Starkiller's chest as he realized what the Emperor was insinuating. "No …" No, it couldn't be, the thought was too horrible to imagine …
Palpatine waved a hand. All around Starkiller, the telescreens came online, showcasing recordings from this laboratory's past.
He watched the giant recordings of the original Starkiller's lifeless body on a lab table, medical droids working on him as he thrashed in and out of consciousness, Vader standing over him, watching each second of the proceedings in excruciating detail.
Then the recordings showed the real Galen awakening in a bacta tank, the operations complete.
Starkiller watched the recordings, mesmerized, as Vader told the real Galen that he was a clone, that his feelings were not real. He watched as a droid transformed itself into a replica of Juno. He saw the real Galen take a blade, hesitate, and then resolve himself to Vader's will.
And then a final recording played. The real Galen was wearing all black with a cape, two red lightsabers, cutting down foes, before kneeling at Darth Vader's feet. "What is thy bidding my Master?"
The ground seemed to sink around him. His vision was swimming. He was the clone after all. And the real Starkiller … the original Galen Marek … was the Dark Apprentice!
And Sidious' cackling keened through the entire demonic auditorium …