A/N: Wow I cannot believe it has been seven years since my last update. I am so sorry. When I put this on hiatus I didn't mean for it to last between April 2010 and July 2017. So I finally got a chapter for you guys, Yay! I'm sorry for my absence, but I've had some personal and mental struggles to deal with and I was originally distracted by a couple switches of genre focus. I don't know when my next update will be but I promise, I have not abandoned this story and I never will. I don't care how long it takes me, but I will finish this story eventually. Oh and this chapter is unbetaed so I hope you guys don't mind if I didn't catch all little errors.

Dialogue translation: May you feel eternal fire, and know the same pain you inflict upon others/Balfaloch 'n dragwyddol danio , a adnabod yr un boeni 'ch wrecan i mewn ar arall

Pain, you don't know what pain is./Boeni , gwisgi t adnabod beth boeni ydy.

but I can show you/namyn Alla arddangos 'ch

Vader was at ease as he stroked his fingers up and down his wife's back as they lay together in the tub after their unexpected love making, until he realized that she had fallen asleep. He moved out into the tub from where he was laying on the first step, being careful not to jostle her, and lifted her up with the Force, he wrapped a big, fluffy towel around her and then let her down as he got out of the water, cradling her in his arms. He turned back, using the Force to pull the plug on the bathtub, and he faced the door once again.

She snuggled into his body, and he took her into the bedroom, laying her on his-their bed, then getting into bed beside her after lifting her with the Force to remove the towel, and drying himself off with it. With her asleep, he could feel himself wanting to drift off as well, and as he curled against his wife's sleeping body, a hand on her abdomen, feeling out to his two tiny children and an unfamiliar feeling welled up into his throat, making it hard to breathe. He pondered what it could be, but sleep claimed him before he identified it.

Hours later Vader woke up in the same position he'd gone to sleep in, feeling rested for the first time in weeks. Padmé was still asleep, which puzzled him, as she was usually an early riser, at least from what he had seen thus far. But he was glad of it, because it gave him time to savor the close contact without any of the complications that arose when she was awake.

Not that it was problematic, but he seemed to trip over his own words more when speaking with her, and that tendency had gotten worse as their marriage had evolved. His hand felt heavy on her belly, and he could almost feel the two tiny babies testing themselves against his presence. He was unsure how to comfort them, or communicate with them, or if such was even possible. He was certain that they were both highly Force-sensitive, just as he was, and Aidia, and this made them very vulnerable to Sidious's evil plans. He didn't realize that he was squeezing his wife so tightly until she woke, pulling at his arm.

"Anakin?" she asked as he released her, turning in his arms to face him. Seeing the look in his eye she grew concerned. "What is it?" she asked.

He released her and moved to get out of bed. "Go back to sleep," he told her.

Padmé sat up and watched as he left the bed to stand by the window. "I wish you would open up to me," she complained.

Vader didn't answer her right away. His attention was drawn to the view. The sky was clear and the trees had somehow parted enough that he could see the lake where Anya was buried. For a moment he was transfixed by it. And then before he could blink he saw what had to have been a hallucination, a female figure by the lake with red hair. But as fast as it appeared, it disappeared. It wasn't logical but Vader took it as a sign not to tell her what was on his mind. "You don't know what it is that you want," he told her, glancing over his shoulder at her before he left the bedroom for the sanctity of his office.

Vader quietly read from a datapad at the dining room table, checking his messages from his personal agents he had charged with keeping close tabs and spying the Emperor. These men were highly skilled at disguising themselves within the Emperor's personal security, men that were loyal to Vader first before the Emperor. He knew that he had a limited time frame to do what he had to do, to keep his family safe. He knew that the Emperor was displeased with the fact that he had yet to present proof that Padmé was dead and he didn't know how much longer he could delay it. This thought alone kept him awake at night while his wife peacefully slept beside him. He was trying very hard to figure out a way to kill Palpatine and somehow get away with it and he was nowhere near a solution.

His attention was taken away from his datapad when the serving girl, whom he had learned was named Adriana, stepped away, giving a respectful bow. "Milady," he heard her say quietly. Vader looked up to see Padmé enter the dining room, wearing a loose fitting nightdress and an open robe. At twenty weeks into her pregnancy, there really was no hiding it. Her swollen abdomen was proof enough and every single household staff and guard could see it.

As he watched her walk into the room, a hand placed over her abdomen, and take a seat opposite of him, he felt a strong protective instinct and it scared him. "I'm leaving for Coruscant tomorrow," he informed her.

"For how long?" Padmé asked as Adriana began serving her. Vader merely handed over the datapad he had been reading, which she took and began reading. Padmé scanned its contents. "He's calling in bounty hunters?" she asked.

"With instructions to follow me," Vader added. "He's become too paranoid which is too dangerous. I have to eliminate him before he figures things out."

It bothered Padmé how easily he could speak of taking a life as if it didn't really matter. Being a humanist first and foremost, she had hoped that she could influence him away from this tendency but she knew the necessity of Palpatine's death and felt that it could have been sooner. "And when he's dead? What happens next?" she asked.

"We all return to Coruscant and seize the throne," Vader answered.

"And how are we going to explain ourselves, Anakin?" Padmé asked. "You have a very public persona, do you have any idea on how you are going to explain my role in your life, as well as Aidia's?" she asked. Vader frowned and she knew that he hadn't thought of that. "I might have a solution," she told him.

"What kind of solution?" he asked.

"We could have the legal papers declaring our marriage doctored to date back three years and tell everyone that I am Aidia's mother. No one would say differently when she looks like you mostly," Padmé told him.

"If we did that, how would we explain no one knowing about it?" Vader asked.

"We wanted to keep our private lives and public lives separate. It may cause a controversy but once the women's press get wind of it and we allow the press to see us together privately in a certain way, they would spin it into some grand love story," she told him.

"You mean give them the pretense of them thinking that we're in love with each other?" Vader asked, not entirely sure that he liked the idea of it being a show.

"If we want the press to spin things how we want them to spin them, then a little manipulation must be used," Padmé told him.

Vader nodded, seeing her logic. "If you think that is wise," he agreed.

Padmé reached across the table, placing her hand over his. "I do have one request," she told him.

Vader look her in the eye. "What is that?" he asked.

"That you abandon the name he has forced you to use once he's dead," Padmé told him. When he didn't say anything, she continued. "It's a slave name, Ani. It's not who you are," she told him.

Vader was saved from saying anything when Aidia ran into the room happily, climbing up on a chair between him and Padmé. "What are we doing today?" she asked, unaware of the discussion that she had interrupted.

Padmé sat out on the patio and simply enjoyed being outdoors. She was outside more than she was inside these days. Complete bedrest for most of her first trimester had made her eager to be outside most. A small smile tugged at her lips as she felt one of her babies kick. She ran a loving hand over her swollen belly while the other rested on top of it. She tried to picture her children as they grew. Whether they would look like her or their father. Or who they would take after the most. A dozen images raced through her mind and Padmé marveled at her own thoughts. Her first pregnancy, she never stopped to think about these things, she didn't have time as her duties as Senator took precedence and then soon after, her miscarriage halted any thoughts of children completely. But she had no official duties besides lady of the house at the moment and it gave her time to think of nothing but her babies. It was a past time that she enjoyed immensely because she loved them very deeply already.

A full smile on her face as she pictured the faces of her children, she didn't notice Shmi sit down next her until she spoke.

"Anakin left?" Shmi asked, sounding disappointment that she missed him.

"He left after breakfast, he was called away," Padme confirmed.

"He didn't say goodbye, I was informed by one of the staff," Shmi said with a frown.

Padme signed. "He does that," she said grimly.

"He really isn't the boy I raised anymore, is he?" Shmi asked softly. But she looked right at Padme then. "But I know he's in there somewhere," she said fiercely. "A mother knows."

Padme rubbed her stomach were her babies grew, understanding what Shmi meant. "Yes, I know," she said.

"You can bring him back from whatever place that monster brought him too, I know it, you and those babies,"

Padme thought of the boy she knew so long ago and the man he had become. There were glimmers of that boy, she knew, somewhere. But the walls he had built up over the years were so thick that she wondered if she could penetrate them at all.

Neither Shmi nor Padme noticed Aidia standing around the corner, clutching her blue bantha.

As a reminder of Palpatine's success in establishing a new order, the anniversary of the Empire's establishment would be celebrated within one week. On the streets a military parade took place in a five day period. In the Imperial palace however, the celebrating was quite different. The Emperor only invited select grand moffs and provided palace dancing girls and female slaves for entertainment as well as a generous banquet. The Emperor himself only stayed for a few hours before retiring to his chambers. The guests, the grand moffs and other military personnel, split into two categories at this gathering. Some took the opportunity to gather allies, others took the opportunity presented by the staffed sex-slaves assigned for the entertainment, or ogling the dancing girls, taking much pleasure in the attentions of these women for their intended purposes. The smarter ones took the advantage of setting up their allies to support their ambitions. It was the blithering fools that succumbed to the traps set by the lascivious entertainers. Traps set by the Emperor himself.

Grand Moff Thracan was one moff who gathered allies at these affairs. He separated himself from the entertainment to discuss his ambitious plans with his friends. Like many ambitious fools, Grand Moff Thracan was overfilled with self importance and rich enough to raise an army of his own if need be. He could prove to be trouble, it was why Vader kept close eyes on him.

"I am quite certain that the dispute over Boz Pity firmly set me in the right side of the Emperor, I anticipate that anytime now I will be granted more responsibilities." Thracan boasted.

"I would watch for Vader if I were you. Remember what happened to Galac when he attempted to overstep him," a flunky cautioned.

"You let me worry about Vader. I am quite sure that he won't be a problem any time soon..."

"Moff Thracan. Aren't you enjoying the festivities?" Vader's emotionless voice said as he emerged from the shadows.

"Vader," Thracan greeted. "I'm surprised you've been able to make it, with your hunt for that renegade senator and all."

"And miss the festivities?" Vader rose an eyebrow. "Your fellow Moffs seem to be enjoying themselves yet you hide away in the corner. You understand how this may seem suspicious." He walked away then, sensing the arrogant Moff start to panic. He stood by one of the many statues erected in the grand ballroom in Palpatine's honor and kept his eyes on everyone in the room. A security officer took up residence near him.

"Everything is in order," the officer said.

"Good, we don't want the Emperor's festivities ruined," Vader said, pleased. Soon, very soon, the throne Palpatine sat upon would be his.

Igraine knew that she was risking her life but she had no choice. She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she would have no choice in many matters. Sixty-Seven years of slavery had taught her the harshest lessons. From the moment her dear husband, the eternal adventurist, suggested a family trip around the galaxy, she knew that no good would come of it. Ultimately, his charm and enthusiasm was infectious and she found herself agreeing to it much as she had when he suggested that they marry. The moment the pirates attacked their ship she knew it was a mistake and the moment when her children were ripped from her arms was consuming, she could still hear their fearful screams for her after all these years. She carried on in the hopes that one day they would be reunited. Hope was paralyzing because it was all she had and the not knowing continued to fuel it, kept her in the same state. If she had just known what had happened to them, if she just knew where they were, she would be okay, she would no longer fear for her life if she just knew they were safe.

But she did fear for her life, and she feared for her husband's. Three years of being a servant to the Emperor gave her more to be afraid than all her years as a slave. And she was tasked with the most perilous task of all. Find evidence of treason against Darth Vader for the Emperor or her husband would die and she would be forced to watch before dying herself.

She hurried through the halls of the Imperial Palace, ever conscious of the Emperor's fickle temper. The palace was built to be an example of the Emperor's wealth and power and had many maze like corridors. It was so vast that one could get lost and never be found. But Igraine knew the distance she had to travel, knowing that if she didn't deliver the package to the Emperor, she would die. However, as she was about to turn down the corridor to the Emperor's wing, she found herself blocked as Lord Vader suddenly appeared from behind a pillar.

"Going somewhere?" he asked darkly and she knew that she was dead.

Dormé waited until the household staff all gathered together for their hourly break that Padme had introduced to their schedule and walked upstairs to the third floor where she knew were Vader held himself up for hours. The floor was only occupied by his bedchamber and office. Reaching the door to his office and carefully started work at picking the lock open. Finally managing it in under five minutes. She turned the lights on and was met with a sparsely furnished room with only a desk in the middle and a chair. She rounded the desk and fiddled around for ways to open up drawers.

She had been given a very specific task by Senator Organa, and that task was to find out what Vader was planning in regards to the Alliance. Dorme was determined to figure this one out despite the displeasure it would stir up in her mistress. As the wife of Darth Vader, Padme was torn between her loyalties to her husband and her loyalties to democracy. Dorme decided to help her out in that respect by doing what her mistress should be doing.

She managed to open the holonet console. The security surrounding it was a jumbled string of codes that she couldn't unscramble herself. Reaching inside her bodice, she pulled out a small device given to her to unscramble codes. She plugged it into a port and waited. When the device was done, she found only a select number of information was unlocked. Feeling that she had a limited amount of time, she downloaded what she could unscramble without overlooking it and tucked it inside her bodice. She then went to rifle through the drawers for anything else when a rough piece of sheeting brushed against the tips of her fingers. She pulled it out to see an ancient sheet that seemed to be made out of a plant substance with child's paint on it. A child's drawing. From the smudges at the corners and the wear and tear along the folds, it seemed to be looked at periodically. Dorme stared at it, its place amongst sensitive information speaking volumes. Dorme wasn't sure what to think about this new information.

A sudden noise alerted Dorme that she had been inside the office for too long and she hastily replaced the drawing before making a quick exit.

Igraine knew no greater fear than what she thought was about to happen to her now. As she hung from the shackles suspended from the ceiling in the dank and gloomy prison, her eyes had long adjusted to the lack of clear lighting. This was a place where people came in whole and left in body bags. That was, if they left at all. The stench she was now mostly immune to wafted in from the rest of the prison which attested to any number of things-rotting corpses, accumulated biological waste, rats, bugs, and a number of other unsavory things she could no longer calculate.

She was acutely aware of the torture and death around her, the screams of fear and anguish, and she knew they were not just a reaction to what was happening to the people here, but the torture that was happening in her hearing to added into her own fear and mental anguish. She was in a room by herself, but she had a clear view of some of the worst off prisoners through the bars in her cell and she was positioned so that she could see several other floors as well. The gloom in her cell ensured that they could not see her, and she was far enough away that they could not hear her if she tried to reach out for them. Nothing had been done to her yet but she knew that it was only a matter of time and the longer she waited, the more agonizing it became. She had no way to tell how much time had passed but her senses seemed to make her time spent here seem like forever.

Igraine looked up when the door to her cell opened and Vader walked in. His very being was cold and void of any emotion. Igrain knew that a number of her fellow slaves found him to be quite appealing, to them the dangerous air around him seemed enticing, but Igraine felt the opposite. She saw Vader for what he was, a ruthless, evil man whom she feared becoming Emperor. The very sight of him sent chills down her spine. She watched him as he stalked towards her, a predator closing in on his prey.

"You possessed some damning evidence against me, I have to wonder if you were recruited in the hope that I would overlook your status," Vader said coolly.

"I have nothing to say," Igraine told him.

"A bold thing to say considering your situation," Vader noted coldly as his fingers brushed over some torture instruments before disregarding them. "And from a slave no less. I am surprised your defiance hasn't been beaten out of you."

"I have lost all I have cared for, I have nothing more to lose, should I die today, I die with only my will," Igraine told him.

Vader bore his harsh gaze into hers. "And I should kill you here and now for your transgressions," he told her harshly.

"Then what is keeping you?" Igraine asked.

"If I kill you it would only ease your suffering, what point is that?" Vader told her and motioned to the guards and Igraine noticed for the first time that they bore his insignia, not the Emperor's. They brought over a viewing screen that displayed an image of a shackled, sickly man curled in rags on a moldy stone floor. "I too can unlock and exploit the secrets and weaknesses of others," he said, looking at her.

At the sight of her husband in far worse conditions than she had last seen him forced Igraine to drop her brave demeanor as she turned to Vader. "Please, he has nothing to do with this!" she begged.

A sickly smile crossed Vader's face, giving Igraine a cold feeling. "Someone has to die for your crimes and I'm less inclined for it to be you. I'll give you a choice then. If you want your husband's life to be spared then you must choose three others to die in his place," he bargained, gesturing to the view of the other crowded cells.

"I will not participate in your barbarity," she hissed at him.

"They are all worthless scum, if you are interested," he continued conversationally. "That one," he pointed to the first cell on the second row, "is here because he raped three of the servants in my Coruscant household. And the one next to him is here because he watched."

"I do not care. I will not stoop to your level."

He started pointing to various cells in rapid succession. "That man brought a two-year-old baby to Palpatine, leading to her eventual torture and death. He has been here for a very long time, but I will kill him now if you wish it. He murdered ten people in eight systems, and no one caught onto the pattern until it was too late to save more of them. That man sold his sister to a man who raped and murdered her so that he would have money to gamble with, and that is the man who bought the sister. He is guilty of torturing slaves for his own sadistic pleasure. That man beat three slaves to death for no reason other than he was displeased with their work. None of the men here deserve anything less than death. Now choose."

"I will not give you the pleasure of playing your game." Igraine protested.

"You will choose or I will choose for you."

"No! I beg you, don't make me responsible for someone else's death."

"You've already made yourself responsible. Now choose!" Vader shouted at her.

"You are a monster, no better than these you have captured."

"I may be, but I am free and they are not."

"I see inside you and there is nothing there that has any value. You are just an ugly, evil, petty monster," she said, in tears.

"I give you one final chance."

"Why do you keep them here? Do they not remind you of your own bestiality?"

"They remind me of why I remain on the edge of the abyss, instead of plunging full force into it."

"So much death they have caused. I do not understand why you have kept them alive."

"I am offering you a chance to release them. To remove some of my dark mirrors."

There was a moment of vulnerability in Vader, and in that moment she understood what others saw in him. There was a glimmer of a small boy inside him, of the person that he could have been if he were not Vader. And that made him more dangerous still. But she would not play his game. "I will not choose."

"Fine," Vader said, and nodded to the guard at his side. She watched as he gave the orders for her husband to be brought to 'the chair.'

"NO!" she screamed, fighting against her bindings.

"You have a different idea then?" he asked her, displaying only mild interest in the subject. She watched in horror as the camera tracked her husband's stumbling progress in moving to the device of Vader's choosing.

"Kill me instead!"

"While that option will go on the table after while, it is not available to you right now. I must find out what you know before you die."

"I don't know anything!" Igraine protested.

"I am having your husband strapped into a chair and hooked up to a machine designed to give off a large electrical current all at once. The process is relatively painless, rather like being struck by lightning. He will not suffer for very long, if at all. You should thank me for being merciful."

"I should curse you for your black heart."

"Why were you specifically recruited to spy on me?"

"I don't know."

"I don't believe you."

"But it's the truth!"

"You have one more chance to save your husband before I tell them to proceed, now tell me the truth!"

Igraine's eyes fully fixed on her husband who could barely hold himself up. She didn't say anything but the tears formed in her eyes nonetheless knowing that she would lose him no matter what she said.

"CHOOSE NOW!" Vader shouted to her face making her flinch.

In one final act of defiance, Igraine looked him the eye. "Balfaloch 'n dragwyddol danio , a adnabod yr un boeni 'ch wrecan i mewn ar arall," she cursed at him in a tongue she hadn't used since leaving her homeworld.

Vader gave her a hard look, understanding what she had just said perfectly. "Boeni , gwisgi t adnabod beth boeni ydy," he retorted, making it clear that he too knew the language. At her wide eyes he continue more aggressively, "namyn Alla arddangos 'ch!"

Igraine broke down at this point, fear for herself, fear for her husband, the only one she had left. She was being forced to choose between her husband's life and the life of a man she never met. Neither choice was something that she could live with herself over. "Please, I beg of you, don't make me choose," she begged.

"Do you not care enough about the life of your own husband?" Vader asked coldly.

"I love him more than my own life," Igraine told him.

"Then why make this so hard for yourself?" Vader demanded.

"Because I could not live with myself knowing that I was responsible for another being's murder," Igraine told him truthfully. She watched as he signaled to his guards, her eyes widening when she saw that her husband was being released. She was even more surprised when she was released from the shackles and placed into a chair.

Vader gave another signal and the guards left, leaving him and Igraine alone. "The intelligence you were carrying, were there any copies?" he asked.

"Why would I make copies? I was taking what I had straight to the Emperor. He would have insisted," she said and she could swear that she could see relief flooding through him.

"This is why, in case you were captured. But Palpatine obviously didn't even teach you the most basic things about being a spy. But that little slip up will now cost him his life."

"You are going to kill the Emperor?" she asked, her voice flat.

"That was what you were about to give to the Emperor. That was what the intelligence you had said."

"I don't understand. Why would you wish to kill the Emperor, he gives you everything you want," Igraine said disbelievingly.

"The Emperor will only receive what he deserves," Vader told her cryptically as he opened the cell and spoke to a guard. "Have her and her husband transported to a safe location, send my personal physician to tend to them," he instructed before leaving.

Emperor Palpatine was a man with real paranoia. He lived in an erratic schedule to keep his enemies on their toes. He knew all too well the number of people who wanted him dead. He also knew that he was untouchable. His apprentice made sure of that but Palpatine was no fool to think it was out of loyalty but rather for the thirst of taking the kill for himself. Thus was the way of the Sith, an ancient tradition that Palpatine was all too familiar of. His master had made the mistake of choosing to sleep while he was around, Palpatine was determined not to make the same mistake. He had learned long ago how to suppress the need for sleep so that he never did. To ensure that he never ate anything that could lead to his demise, he had people taste his food and it was never the same person, only he knew who he would choose to taste his food. He had numerous spies at his disposal to keep him informed of his enemies and allies plots. He took every precaution he could and then some.

As the servants laid out his meal in his suit, Palpatine eyed them critically, reading their thoughts and feelings. Most had learned to keep their thoughts from showing during this time, aware of the fact that they could be chosen and possibly poisoned. It was self preservation and he wanted to squash it.

Settling on one of the servants, a middle aged man dressed in the poorest quality, Palpatine beckoned him forward. "You, test this and pray that it is not poisoned," he ordered. Sensing the servant's fear skyrocket, Palpatine watched intently as the man stepped forward and take a small sample from the meal, his hands shaking in fear. Eying the servant suspiciously, the emperor reached out with the force in order to sense any signs of poison. Unable to detect any, Palpatine concluded that his meal had been left safe for consumption. Dismissing the servant as throw swatting away a fly, Palpatine proceeded to eat the fine food set before him. It wasn't until he had finished his last bite and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin that he sensed that something wasn't right. Turning a thunderous glance at the servant who had tested his meal, he rose, his body beginning to tremble.

"Guards!" he spluttered, drops of blood flying from his mouth like spittal.

As on cue, his royal guards left the room and the servants backed away in fear.

"Gua.." Gripping his throat and heaving forward, Palpatine gasped for air, unable to finish as he felt his lungs close up.

"Nexu got your tongue, Master?"

Palpatine's fury rose as the servants disappeared and Vader appeared out of the shadows. Reaching for his lightsaber from his robes, the Emperor seized up before lurching forward. Feeling his body fail him as he collapsed in his chair, the Dark Lord of the Sith and Galactic emperor shot his apprentice a hateful glare for his betrayal.

"Don't try to fight it, Master. It's a poison made from the glands of a gorg. What did you think I was hiding on Tatooine?" Vader laughed as he circled the Emperor's chair. "This particular poison causes it's victims to have a stroke. It's something I learned as a servant to the hutts. You're unable to move, helpless, just the way I want you," he said with malice as he reached over the paralyzed Emperor to grip the carving knife laying on the table.

"I told you that you would know what you created and now you shall pay with your life and your throne," Vaver growled, gripping the Emperor by the scalp, pulling his head back to look him in the eye. "How does it feel to be powerless?" he asked viciously as he dragged the knife along his master's neck. Tossing the knife aside, Vader reached in and ripped Palpatine's throat out before dumping the Emperor's motionless body out of the chair.

As Vader stared down at his master, his rage continued. Even with Darth Sidious now dead, it was still far from over. Recalling the knife with the force, He gripped the hilt with both hands and raised the knife over his head. With an animalist roar, he proceeded to use the knife to rip the Emperor's body apart until all that was left to identify was his head, the blood of the Emperor on every surface. And when Vader rose to face his most trusted men, he was met with their silent, horrified gazes.

Dropping the knife, Vader took the napkin offered to him by Jix to wipe the blood from his face. Breathing deeply , he moved away, his eyes changing from sith yellow to blue. "Someone clean this up!" he commanded as he marched from the chamber, past the shaking servant who had tested the food earlier, knowing the poison was on the napkin.

Outside the Imperial Palace, the parade for Empire Day was going strong. The Imperial Navy, followed by the 501'st Legion marched by the large cheering crowds as the assembled Grand Moffs looked onward. Everyone celebrating the glorious Empire. Shouts of "Hail Emperor Palpatine!" were heard far and wide as all over grand speeches were given in reverence to their Emperor and spewing adulations of the Empire's achievements.

No one could have foreseen the gruesome sight to greet them all as the holo cameras panned up to the Imperial Palace where the Emperor himself would appear any moment. But on the day inaugurating the fourth year of the Empire and of Emperor Palpatine's reign, no one would ever forget the infamous sight that the entire galaxy had witnessed as the holocams finally reached the Emperor's balcony.

Screams of horror were instantly heard. The marching stopped and holochannles scrambled to cut the live footage. But no one could unsee the mutilated body hanging from the balcony nor the decapitated head resting on the the balcony. The chaos the erupted that moment was pandemonious. It would be hours before anyone would find some sense of controlling the situation.